Chapter 4
He stood, waiting by the gates of Hogwarts.
A blustery wind blew his robes around his body, the snapping material mirroring the hidden turmoil unsettling his stomach. Something was wrong, he just knew it. There was no other explanation for the sight of his mother walking towards him with a large smile on her face.
Daniel resisted the urge to run toward her and bound in her arms. The unbearable homesickness he'd tried so hard to hide from his friends and push out of his mind for a month abated with each step she took toward him. But when she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, the scent of her brought the feeling of hopelessness back in full force. He swallowed the sob threatening to escape on the wings of the knowledge that this reunion, one he'd been wishing for since he'd arrived in Scotland was short lived. In a few short hours he would still be here - alone, away from everything that was familiar to him and away from the person he missed the most.
She squeezed him and rocked from side to side. "I'm so happy to see you!" she said.
He didn't want to leave her familiar embrace, but the eleven year old boy's fear of embarrassment was stronger than his need of assurance. He pulled back and looked up into her shining face. "Hi, Mum," he said.
"Let me look at you," she said, holding him at arm's length. "Whew! You look the same." She bent down and said, "You're going to think I'm crazy, but I was worried you'd have changed."
I have, he thought.
Hermione ran her hand through his dark hair and smiled. He tried to return the smile, but the queasiness in his stomach turned it into more of a grimace. She knelt in front of him and said, "Estàs bé Daniel? Et passa res?"
The combination of her reverting to his native tongue, something he hadn't heard save inside his own head and her hand resting on his neck, cradling his face - a familiar gesture that he didn't realise he'd missed until now, put him on cusp of tears. He was on the verge of answering her when his eyes settled on the man standing behind her.
Hermione looked over her shoulder and in English said, "Oh, you remember Harry, don't you, Daniel? He's Joanne's father."
What a stupid question, Daniel thought. Of course he knew who the man was. Although his mother didn't talk a lot about her role in the defeat of Voldemort, he'd heard enough and read enough to know exactly who the man was. Then there was Jo, who talked about her father as if he was the second coming of Christ. Of course, everyone talked about him like that. In a way, Daniel guessed that he was. None of that mattered right now. He was more interested in what Super Wizard was doing here, with his mother.
"Hi, Daniel," Harry said with a wave.
"Harry suggested that coming to a Gryffindor Quidditch match would be a good excuse for me to see you," she said. "Since he's on the Board of Governors, I'm able to come as his guest."
"Ever been to a Quidditch match before?" Harry asked with a smile.
"I'm not a Muggle," Daniel snapped. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. "My dad took me."
"Right," Harry said, embarrassed. "Who's your favourite team?" he continued.
Daniel didn't want to admit to him that he didn't have a favorite team. His Quidditch-watching experience consisted of two matches his dad had taken him to when he was eight. He'd loved it and they had planned to get season tickets the next year. It didn't happen, though.
"Chudley Cannons," he said, blurting out the first team that came into his mind, which he immediately regretted. It had only been one month and he'd grown sick of hearing Theo talk about the Cannons.
"From what I hear, they have a lot of potential this season," Harry said. Moments passed while Harry waited for some response from Daniel. When it didn't come, Harry's hands moved around in his pockets, emitting a faint sound of jingling coins. "Well, I'm going to try to find Jo. I'll meet you in the top box," he said to Hermione. He looked down at Daniel. "Good to see you again, Daniel."
"Bye," Daniel said. He felt his mother's eyes on him as he watched Harry walk away. When he returned his gaze to hers, he saw concern etched in her features.
"¿Qué pasa, Daniel?"
"Nada," he replied, looking down.
"You know you can't lie to me, Daniel. How are classes going?"
"Fine."
"Are you having any problems? Kids picking on you?"
"No, Mum."
"Then what is it? What are you not telling me?"
He met her eyes. "That's what I wanted to ask you."
"What?"
"Something's wrong, isn't it? That's why you came here, to tell me something bad."
Hermione sat back on her heels, stunned. "No, that's not why I came."
"You hate Quidditch."
"I don't hate Quidditch."
"You never talk about it. You never wanted to go to a match."
"I'm not interested in Quidditch. That doesn't mean I hate it. I came to every game while at Hogwarts." She cocked her head to the side. "You thought I was coming here to give you bad news?"
He nodded. She pulled him into a fierce hug. "No, honey. I came here because I wanted to see you. I miss you terribly. I don't have any earth-shattering news to tell you. My life is dreary and dull since you've left. I wake up, go to work and come home." She pulled back and looked at him. "If I have to suffer through a boring Quidditch match to see my boy, then I'll gladly do it," she smiled.
The dread that had been residing in his stomach for a fortnight evaporated at the sight of his mother's smile. "The match isn't going to be boring," he said, regaining his normal animation. "Theo and I've been watching practices. Jo is phenomenal. You should see her fly," he said as they walked toward the Quidditch pitch. "I wouldn't be surprised if she scores ten goals."
"Ten? That would be impressive," Hermione said, her hand draped across Daniel's shoulders.
"How is Andres?" Daniel asked.
He felt his mother stiffen a bit but thought nothing of it when she answered in a normal voice. "He's fine. Sends his love."
"I've got a letter I was writing him. I wanted to wait until after the match to finish it."
They were now walking with the crowd of students and professors that were exiting the castle. They were stopped by a few of the professors - Flitwick, Sinistra and, Vector - who greeted Hermione with warm embraces, generic questions about life and praises of Daniel. It was during the fourth or fifth encounter of this sort that Daniel saw Katie Potter and her band of friends walk by, muttering to each other behind their hands while keeping their narrowed, scheming eyes directed on him. He heard snippets of their comments…"teacher's pet", "mummy's boy"…before they dissolved into a cackle of laughter.
"Daniel!"
He turned from the gaggle of girls to the voice of his friend, Theo. He'd been wearing his hair in dreadlocks ever since the two of them met. As soon as they'd arrived at Hogwarts and he was allowed to do magic, he'd shown off his nascent metamorphic skills, sprouting puke green dreadlocks down to his waist before he had been able to stop the transition. His skills had improved with practice, and today his hair was shoulder length with alternating locks of Gryffindor gold and red.
"Hiya, Theo!"
"Oh, my," Daniel heard Hermione say. He turned to his mother, who sported an expression of shock and thinly veiled parental disgust.
"He's a metamorphmagus like Tonks," Daniel explained. "He doesn't always look so weird."
"Yes, I do," Theo said with a smile. "Hi, Mrs. Duran…I mean Dr. Dur…Granger?"
Hermione smiled at him. "Call me Hermione. But just so you know, it's Dr. Granger."
Theo smiled sheepishly. "Right." He turned to Daniel. "Ready, Danny-Boy?"
"Yeah." Daniel turned to his mom. "I guess I'll see you after the match?"
"Yes. I owled Professor McGonagall and got permission to take you to lunch in the village. Theo, too, if you want to come."
"Brilliant!" Theo said. "Can we stop by Honeydukes, too?"
"Theo! Stop thinking about your stomach for a minute," Daniel admonished.
Hermione laughed. "My God, that sounds so familiar. Yes, Theo, we can stop at Honeydukes. I wanted to take some chocolate back with me, as a matter of fact."
"All right!" Theo said, punching the air with his fist. "Let's go, Danny." He grabbed the sleeve of Daniel's robe and pulled him toward the stairs leading up to the Gryffindor stands.
"Bye, Mum," Daniel said, waving. "See you after the match!" He watched his mum wave at him with a brilliant smile and a bubble of affection rose in his chest and burst. He beamed at her and bounded up the stairs two at a time, happier than he had been in a long time.
"Why am I not surprised that you are a Mummy's boy?"
He stopped and watched Theo continue up the stairs, his multi-coloured hair bobbing up and down. Resigned, he turned to Katie Potter ascending the stairs behind him. "Why am I not surprised to see you here, irritating me?"
She narrowed her eyes in thought, trying, he could tell, to work out what he meant by the comment. "So, how is your mummy?" she mocked.
"Very good," he said. "How's yours?" He snapped his fingers. "That's right, yours isn't here, is she? I bet she had a pressing engagement, like a manicure or a mud bath."
"What would you know about my mother?" she asked in a dangerous voice.
"Oh, I don't know. Just what your sister, my best friend, tells me."
Katie barked out a bitter laugh. "Best friend? You think Jo actually likes you?"
Daniel stood there mute as Katie's face changed from vicious to gleeful. "You do, don't you?" She bent over at the waist and slapped her knee, laughing. When she stood, she picked up the edge of her green and silver scarf and dabbed at the corner of her eyes in a dramatic fashion. "Oh, you slay me. Jo only tolerates you because of Theo. Though why she follows what that oaf does is beyond me."
"He isn't an oaf," Daniel said, taking a step forward, his fingers curling around the handle of his wand.
"Easy there, Catalan," she said, holding up her hands. "I wouldn't be so protective of Theo. He's only your friend because his dad has bribed him to be nice to you. I believe a season pass to the Cannons is at stake." She placed a placating hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry about it, Catalan, I'm sure there are plenty of other losers in Gryffindor you can befriend," before moving up the stairs and leaving him alone.
"Hi Theo," he heard her say in a jaunty voice.
"Katie," Theo replied. "Hey! Danny-Boy! Come on, the match is about to start," he called down to Daniel.
Daniel took a deep breath and turned, plastering a smile on his face. "Coming!" he said.
"What did she want?" Theo asked when they settled in the front row of the Gryffindor section.
"To take the piss out of me. The usual," he replied.
"Don't believe a word of anything she says. Jo says the girl is a professional liar. Mental, that one. Look! There's Jo." He pointed to the zooming blurs of red that were streaking onto the field. "WOOOOOOOOOOOO! GO GRYFFINDOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Theo's enthusiasm, along with the excitement of their housemates, was contagious, forcing Daniel to forget, or at least push to the back of his mind, the accusations Katie had made. He didn't want to believe her, content for the moment to accept whatever friendship Theo and Jo offered, no matter how forced or contrived, with the hope that their affection would grow to become genuine. The alternative was to suffer through a year of solitude in the highlands of Scotland, performing so poorly in his classes that he was either expelled or his mum was compelled to move him to a school in Spain.
"Can I see those?" Daniel asked Theo, who was looking through a pair of omnioculars.
"Sure," he replied, handing them over.
Daniel adjusted the glasses to fit his eyes and searched out his friend. He found Jo just as she tackled a Slytherin chaser and stole the quaffle. She leaned forward on her broom and swerved away from the attack of a bludger as she accelerated toward the goal. The next series of moves she did to evade Beaters, bludgers, and Chasers were too complicated and fast for Daniel to even catalog before she tossed the quaffle through the hoop, scoring easily and making the Slytherin keeper look ridiculous. A roar of approval went up around Daniel as Jo was bombarded on every side by her teammates. Her gaze traveled to the top box and she pumped her fist in acknowledgement. Daniel followed her gaze to see Harry standing by his mother, pumping his fist in response, a beaming smile on his face. Harry turned to Daniel's mother, who was clapping and yelling, and said something to her. She smiled and looked…
"Give me those," Theo said, ripping the omnioculars out of his hands. "I want to see that replay. That was unbelievable!"
Irrational annoyance at Theo's rudeness flamed inside Daniel before he realised that the omnioculars were Theo's after all. He strained to see his mum and Harry across the pitch, a seed of concern rooting itself in the back of his mind.
"Bloody ancient, these are. I can't wait to get a new pair," Theo said in disgust.
"Can I use them again?" Daniel asked.
"Sure. Keep them for all I care."
Daniel readjusted the glasses and focused on the box across the pitch again. His heart clenched when he saw his mother holding her hair back from her face with her hand, the wind making the long curls jump around her head in protest. Harry leaned close to her, moved her erratic hair out of the way and whispered something in her ear. Her expression changed into something he didn't recognise, then she broke into laughter. Harry was grinning at her, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses, his gaze never leaving her face. She turned to look at him, their faces only inches apart and Daniel gasped, sure that they were about to kiss. Instead, she shook her head with a grin and turned her attention to the game. Jo scored again and the moment was broken; they both stood and cheered along with the rest of the stadium, save Slytherin.
"Okay, I lied. I want them back," Theo said. "Every time I give them away, she scores." He paused before taking them back. "Maybe you should keep them," he said, his superstitious side getting the best of him. "Maybe you're good luck."
"No, I don't want them anymore," Daniel said pushing them into Theo's hand before sitting down, a queasy feeling invading his stomach.
Daniel's prediction of 10 goals for Jo had been spot on. He and Theo rushed down to the field after the match to offer their congratulations to their friend and the team which had beaten Slytherin handily 340-120. Jo was standing in the middle of the group, being jostled around by her older teammates in celebration. The Seeker, a burly seventh year named Peter Weatherly, was rubbing the top of her head, dislodging strands of her jet black hair from its precarious ponytail. She ducked out from under his hand and slapped it away playfully, her green eyes shining with excitement.
"Jo!" Theo called out.
She turned to see them and her face lit up even more, aided by her red, wind-chapped cheeks. Theo strode forward and gave her a high five. "Brilliant flying, Joanne."
"Don't call me Joanne," she said sternly, the rebuke never getting to her eyes.
"You did great," he said, walking forward and giving her an awkward punch on the shoulder.
"Thanks," she said.
"That first goal was great! Well they were all great, but the way you made the Slytherin keeper look like a Chudley Cannons third-stringer was just brilliant."
"I just got a good angle on him, that's all," she said.
Daniel and Theo exchanged an eyeroll. One of the best, and worst, attributes of Jo's was her self-deprecation. She gave credit to everyone but herself and always talked about the team this and the team that. Her teammates loved her for it, but everyone knew that she was the best of the bunch. But Daniel knew that he would never hear those words pass her lips. It was one of the things he liked best about her.
"There she is!" a loud voice said from behind them.
"Daddy!!" she squealed, pushing around Theo and Daniel to run and jump into her father's arms. She wrapped her legs around him and hung on for dear life. Harry twirled her around in a circle a couple of times before placing her back on the ground. He bent down to her eye level, a beaming "proud papa" smile on his face, and said, "You, my dear, are the best Quidditch player I've ever seen."
This comment made her blush. She looked down at the ground and said, "It's all because of the team."
"Oh, come on," Katie said, walking up to the group. "Even I can tell you are better than everyone else on your team."
Jo looked around quickly, checking that her teammates weren't within hearing distance. "Shut it, Katie. That's not true."
"I'm trying to give you a compliment, you daft git," Katie said, teasingly. "You'd better take it, you know I don't give them out often. Congratulations. You played really well."
"Thanks," Jo said, looking pleased with the compliment. Despite the fact that Jo and Katie were two completely different people in personality and temperament and the fact that most of the time they fought like cats and dogs, Daniel could tell that Jo welcomed the approval of her sister.
"Hiya, popkin," Harry said to Katie, lifting her up into a hug.
"Hi, Daddy," she said. When he put her back down, Daniel was surprised to see fear in her eyes. "I'm surprised you are talking to me," she said.
"Why wouldn't I?" Harry said, surprised.
"Oh, well, you know," she said, playing with the tails of the green and silver scarf around her neck.
"Oh, that," Harry said, looking at the scarf. "Yes, well, I'm not going to hold it against you." He bent down to look her in the eye and said with a wink, "You've always looked good in green."
Daniel saw her face soften in relief. He also saw the admiration for her father reflected in her eyes. She turned and caught his eye. Before she could mask her dislike of him he caught a glimpse of a very different girl. The thought raced through his mind, so quickly that he would forget about it until years later, that he could like this girl - the girl she was with her father. Her eyes hardened into the look of contempt that she seemed to save just for him, and all compassion for her dissolved and was whisked away in the blustery wind.
"Where's Olivia?" Harry asked, looking around.
"Right here," she said, pushing through the group of older Gryffindors that had surrounded the Quidditch team. "Good game, squirt," she said, ruffling Jo's hair.
Daniel immediately began studying the toes of his shoes. He was intimidated by Olivia Potter, not only because she was a prefect, but mainly because she was beautiful and smart. He'd spent many nights in the common room hiding behind a book and sneaking glances at Olivia while she sat by the fire, talking and laughing with her fifth year girlfriends.
Hermione stood by Daniel and draped her arm over his shoulders. "I'm taking Daniel and Theo to lunch. Do you all want to join us?" Daniel's head shot up. The thought of spending an hour sitting at the same table with one girl who clearly hated him and one who he couldn't look at without blushing sounded like pure torture.
"That sounds good," Harry said, clapping his hands together. "What do you say girls?"
Olivia looked at her watch and said, "I have a meeting at five, but I reckon I can make it. I'm in."
"Where are we going?" Katie asked, appraising Hermione.
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I thought the Three Broomsticks."
"Sounds good to me," Harry said, to Jo, Olivia, and Theo's approval. Katie narrowed her eyes at Hermione, doing little to hide her scrutiny of Daniel's mum.
"I'll go shower and change," Jo said, bounding off with adrenaline-infused energy.
Harry, remembering his manners, said, "Olivia, Katie, do you remember Hermione Granger?"
"Yes, nice to see you again, Dr. Granger," Olivia said formally, holding out her hand.
Hermione gave her a warm smile and shook her hand. "Call me Hermione, please." She accepted Olivia's smile in acknowledgement and turned her attention to Katie. "Hi, Katie. Nice to see you again."
"You've taken a long journey for a Quidditch game," Katie said.
"It was worth the trip. What a great match," Hermione replied, looking at Harry. "Plus, I got to see Daniel, which was the real reason I came," she said, ruffling his hair. He stepped out from under her hand and ducked his head in embarrassment, smoothing out his hair. Katie smirked at him and he sighed, knowing that this little exchange would come back to haunt him.
Jo returned quicker than expected and soon they were sitting around a table in the Three Broomsticks ordering drinks.
"I'll have pumpkin juice," Harry said to Madam Rosmerta before glancing down the table at Hermione. Daniel looked at his mum and saw her looking at the menu with a half smile on her face. When Rosmerta asked for her order, Hermione looked up and said, "I'll have pumpkin juice, too."
"What?" Daniel said. "You hate pumpkin juice."
"No, I don't," she replied.
"You never drink it."
She gave a nervous chuckle. "Just because I don't drink it doesn't mean I don't like it." Daniel followed her quick glance down the table to Harry, who had an amused smirk on his face.
"That's all Dad drinks," Jo said. "I'm surprised he doesn't have pumpkins growing out of his ears."
"I don't drink it that much," Harry responded.
Olivia choked on her laugh. "Yes, you do."
Rosmerta sat a goblet of juice in front of Harry, who shrugged and said, "I guess I do," before raising the glass and taking a drink.
"Mamá, ¿cómo están Nan y Pop?" Daniel asked.
"Están bien y te mandan besitos." She leaned toward him and whispered, "Daniel, it's rude to speak in another language when others can't understand you. They might think we're talking about them."
"Are you staying with them tonight?" he continued in English.
She cleared her throat and cast a glance down the table. "I stayed with them last night. I'm going back by there after I leave you."
"You are going home tonight? Do you have to work tomorrow?"
"No, I have tomorrow off."
"Then why aren't you staying with Nan and Pop?"
Hermione flattened her serviette in her lap. "I'm staying with some friends in London," she replied.
Daniel was confused. "Who?" He tried to remember anyone she had mentioned enough to warrant an overnight visit.
"Just an old friend from school," she said, adjusting the location of her knife and fork, as well as her goblet of juice.
He was about to ask another question when Olivia interjected with a query about Hermione's career and they were off to the races. Soon, the occupants of the table were divided up in conversation; Olivia was quizzing Hermione about being a Healer, St. Jordi's, the wizarding hospital in Barcelona, and about the city itself while Harry, Theo and Jo talked Quidditch. Daniel spent his time apprising the Three Broomsticks, which he had heard about but had never visited before. It was really rather unremarkable. Aside from the obvious magical touches, it could have been any pub in Britain. He took a drink of his butterbeer and glanced around the table. The conversation about Quidditch was as animated as the conversation about healing was intense. Daniel joined the conversation about Quidditch as best he could. Katie sat across from him, arms crossed over her chest, a bored look on her face.
"So, Daniel, how do you like Hogwarts?" Harry asked.
"Er," he said, shifting in his seat at the silence that befell the table. "Good. It's good," he replied, trying as much to convince himself as the others.
"Not quite as picturesque as Barcelona, is it?"
"Yeah," he said, thinking fondly of his hometown and the view from the terrace of his home. "Wait!" he said, looking at Harry. "Have you been to Barcelona?"
Each face that had been turned to Daniel was now turned to Harry, curious looks on them all, save one which had found interest again in the positioning of her cutlery. Harry took the attention in with an uneasy gaze before settling his eyes on Hermione. "As a matter of fact, I went there on business a few weeks ago. Your mum showed me around Barcelona. It is a very beautiful city; I can understand why you would miss it." He pushed his cutlery back from the edge of the table and rested his crossed arms on the edge. "Did all of your friends go to the school in Spain? What's the name of the wizarding school?"
"Blanquerna. Yes, my friends went there." He ignored the snort from across the table.
"Do you keep in touch with them? Send them owls?"
"A couple of them."
"This one bloke has the biggest owl I've ever seen," Theo said, holding his arms wide. "Its wingspan is probably as big as this table."
"That's Andres' owl," Daniel said, beaming, "my uncle. He bought Don Quixote when he learned I'd be going to Hogwarts so he wouldn't have to use the international post owls." He turned to his Mum, eyes shining with excitement. "Did I tell you that he sent me a package with all of my favorite sweets? We've been feeding on them for a month. I've had to hide them from Theo, or they would've been gone in a week."
"I've always wanted to visit Barcelona," Olivia said.
"You'll have to come visit, then," Hermione said to her. "I'll take you on a tour of the hospital."
"Would you?" she asked, eyes lighting up. "That would be lovely."
"It'd be my pleasure," Hermione replied.
"What did you think of Barcelona, Mr. Potter?" Daniel asked.
"Mr. Potter," Theo said with a snort.
"Oy," Harry said, swatting at Theo with his serviette. "At least he has manners, which is more than I can say for you." He looked at Daniel. "You can call me Harry, by the way. And I loved Barcelona. It is very beautiful."
"You must go to the Festival La Merce some time. It's a muggle festival, but rather good anyway. We go every year." He turned to Theo and Jo, who were sitting beside him. "There are these castellers who try to build the tallest human pyramid possible. There are street theatres, bands, open markets. The best, by far, is Carrefoc."
"What's that?" Jo asked.
"It's a midnight parade of dragons, eagles and devils in Bari Gothic. The square is filled with hundreds of people, with fireworks going off everywhere. It is really spectacular."
"Dragons?" Katie said. "Real dragons?"
"No, not real dragons," Jo said. "He said it was a muggle festival, or were you not listening?"
"Jo," Harry said in a warning tone.
"I just don't see what is so impressive about fake dragons," Katie put in.
"It doesn't have to be real to be enjoyable," Daniel said. "Ever been to a play? A muggle movie?"
"Yes," Katie said.
"Well, those aren't real, but they're fun."
Katie gave a practiced shrug of nonchalance. "I guess when you've seen a real dragon…"
"Even so," Hermione interrupted. "It is a lot of fun. Too bad the festival is in September when you lot are in school."
"I guess you'll just have to come after we are out of Hogwarts," he said to Jo and Theo. "Just to La Merce. You can come to Barcelona to visit during break anytime. Right, Mum?"
"Of course they can."
"Brilliant," Theo said.
"Sounds fun to me," Jo piped in.
"So, Dad," Katie said, raising her voice to interrupt. "Where's Mum?"
A crackling tension settled over the table. Jo sat back, crossing her arms. Olivia affected a look of supreme unconcern and engaged Hermione in yet another conversation. Harry had gone completely still.
"I don't know," Harry replied.
"Didn't you tell her about the match?" Katie asked.
An uncomfortable silence followed. "No. I assumed Jo did," Harry said, turning to Jo, who was looking down. "You did, didn't you?"
"No," she said, almost inaudibly.
Harry gave a great sigh. "Joanne, you should have told her. I'm sure she would have wanted to be here."
Jo gave a snort. "Not likely."
"I guess we'll never know, will we?" Katie said, glaring at Jo.
"Why didn't you tell her? You send her a letter every day!" Jo shot back.
"I do not," Katie huffed, her cheeks tinged with red. "And it isn't my job to relay your so-called accomplishments," she said, spitting out the last word.
"Of course not. That would mean you would have to talk about someone besides yourself, wouldn't it?"
"Girls, stop it!" Harry said much to Daniel's displeasure. He looked over at Theo, whose expression of glee mirrored his own. There was something special about watching Jo go at it with her sister. Neither backed down and both gave as good as they got. Daniel was sure, and was secretly hoping, that one day it would end up in fisticuffs. He imagined Theo thought the same. His money was on Jo.
"Jo, you need to write your mum and apologise for not telling her."
"Yes, sir," Jo said.
"And tell her the schedule for the rest of your matches." Madam Rosmerta waved at Harry to let him know the food was ready. "Who wants to help me get the food?" Harry said, waving at Rosmerta in acknowledgement.
"I will," Hermione said.
"Me, too," Olivia offered.
As the three walked away Katie turned to Daniel. "I take it I'm not included in the invitation."
Daniel's good manners struggled with his aversion to have anything to do with Katie. "I just assumed from your comment that you wouldn't be interested. Of course you are invited," he said, good manners winning out.
She tossed her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. "Oh, I wouldn't want to go anyway."
"You are so rude," Jo said to her sister.
"Don't' worry about it, Jo. I just asked her to be polite. I wouldn't want her there anyway," Daniel said.
"Oh, in that case, I must come," Katie said with glee.
"Whatever. No me importa," Daniel said, as Hermione, Harry and Olivia returned with their food.
He ate quickly, hoping that the others would follow suit. He wanted to get away from Katie as soon as possible…and preferably not see her for the rest of his life. He knew Theo would scarf down his food and he knew that his mother would take forever, as usual. His only hope was that the peer pressure of being the last eating would encourage her to give up. However, as was par for the course, Katie was as slow an eater as his mother, and matched her bite for bite. At first he thought this was just an unfortunate coincidence until he saw Katie start to smirk with every excruciatingly slow bite she took.
She either knows I want to get out of here or she is mocking my mum. Either way, I want to kill her.
He sat there, trying his best to ignore her presence, his dislike for her growing stronger every minute.
**
"That was a complete and utter disaster, don't you think?" Hermione said as she breezed past Harry into his home. She dropped her duffle onto the ground and turned to face Harry. Her hair was still slightly windswept from earlier and her face was flushed.
"A disaster? That's a little extreme, don't you think?"
"A little extreme?" Hermione said shrilly. "It's obvious that Katie and Daniel hate each other."
"Did Daniel say that?" Harry asked.
"No. But every time they looked at each other I expected daggers to fly out of their eyes."
Harry chuckled. "I didn't get that at all, Hermione. I'm sure they just don't know each other very well, being in different houses and all." Hermione paused, as if she was about to say something more before shaking her head. "What?" Harry asked.
"Nothing. Never mind." She shook her head again. "Let's just forget it. It isn't as if we were…," she paused. "Never mind."
"What?" Harry repeated.
She cleared her throat. "It isn't as if we are checking the compatibility of our families or anything. It's way too early for that."
Harry nodded solemnly. "You're right. Way too early."
"Right," Hermione replied, looking around the entry hall.
"So, what's the bag for then?" Harry asked jerking his head toward the duffle she had tossed aside.
Hermione looked first confused, then abashed. "Um…I was…just stopping by…on my way back through…"
"Hermione?" Harry asked, stepping toward her. "Shut up," he whispered before pressing his lips to hers.
This was what he'd been waiting for all day - for the past two weeks, actually. Finally, he had time alone with Hermione and an opportunity to kiss her without interruption or distraction. Before he had the chance to enjoy his achievement, she pulled away.
"That wasn't very nice," she said. "Telling me to shut up."
"You talk too much," Harry said, staring at her lips.
"And your solution is to tell me to shut up and kiss me, hoping I'll be distracted from your rudeness?"
"Pretty much," he said kissing her again, this time not waiting to invade her mouth with his tongue. He'd been talking and listening and thinking all day. He had even given serious consideration to skipping the Quidditch match when he'd first seen Hermione outside of the Three Broomsticks, an idea that would normally be unheard of for him. He wanted to push everything and everyone else out of his mind and feel for just a few minutes. Gauging from Hermione's reaction, she felt the same way.
When they finally pulled apart, she said, "I can't fault that plan." She smiled at him, her eyes roaming over his face. "I've missed you," she whispered.
"You've missed me since we left Hogwarts two hours ago? Or since I left Barcelona two weeks ago?"
"Barcelona," she replied.
"Nice," Harry said, leaning down to kiss her again.
She placed her fingers over his lips stopping him. "What is it with us and snogging in the hallway?" she asked, looking around.
Harry followed her gaze. "I don't know," he replied. "We could always take it somewhere else, like upstairs," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Hmmm," Hermione said, looking at the stairway with a grin. "Maybe later."
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "You can't fault a guy for trying."
"I'd be offended if you didn't."
"We wouldn't want that." He moved behind her and grasped the collar of her cloak to slip it off her shoulder. "Why don't I tell you the rest of my evil plan to keep your mind off of everything but me."
"Evil plan?" Hermione said, shrugging her cloak off. "That sounds…nefarious."
"Oh, it is. Dobby and I spent hours devising it," Harry said, laying her cloak over the banister.
"This should be good."
"Well, you see, we were in a conundrum," he said, placing her hand on his arm and leading her toward the kitchen.
"A conundrum?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "That's a big word."
"Yes. I had to look it up."
"Ah," she said. "Trying to impress me with your prolific vocabulary."
"Er, right," he said. "Anyway, we were in a conundrum. Should I try to sweep you off your feet with a five-course dinner, wine and candlelight?"
"That sounds nice."
"Or should I be more subtle and have a small elegant picnic in front of the fire?"
"That's good, too," she said.
"Or would the perceived expectations from all of that be too stressful, so maybe ordering up a curry from the Indian place around the corner would fit the bill?" he asked, stopping her before they entered the kitchen.
"And, how is this curry?" Hermione said skeptically.
"Very good." Harry looked at her askance. "Are you implying that because we live in the country, we don't have good curry?"
"No! Never," she said with a smirk. "What did you and Dobby decide?"
"We didn't," Harry said, shaking his head.
"You didn't?"
"No, it was too much pressure. We decided that you should decide."
"Right. Let me think," she said, tapping her finger on her chin. "They all sound good. I haven't been wined and dined in…oh…too many years to count. A picnic by the fire sounds lovely and romantic. But I haven't had good curry since moving to Spain, so that sounds good, too."
"So…you can't decide," Harry said.
"No, I can't."
He nodded his head solemnly. "We thought that might happen." He opened the door to the kitchen and stepped back. "So we went with all three."
Hermione stepped into the kitchen. A rather small room, a large stone fireplace took up a majority of the opposite wall. Cream-coloured cabinets rimmed the room, and a rough-hewn wooden table and six chairs were pushed to the side to make room for the picnic. A large blanket laden with curry (which smelled delicious) and wine was lying across the flagstone floor in front of the fireplace, which, except for the numerous floating candles, was emitting the only light in the room.
"Harry, it's lovely," she said. He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.
"Not nearly as lovely as you are," he said, kissing her on the cheek.
She turned her head and threaded her fingers through his hair. "Thank you," she whispered, tilting her head up to give him a kiss.
"You're welcome," he said with a smile. "Hungry?" he asked.
"Honestly? No," she said with a cringe. "I'm sorry. I'm still full from lunch."
Harry feigned disappointment. "Me, too," he replied. "Why don't we drop your bag in Olivia's room and go for a walk in the village. Maybe we'll be hungry when we return."
"Sounds good," Hermione said. "But, what about the food?"
"Dobby has mastered warming charms. It'll be fine," Harry replied leading her back into the central hall.
The house that Harry shared with his girls wasn't what you would expect from one of the richest wizards in England. Three years ago after his divorce from Bridgette and expulsion from their cold, modern flat in London he had chosen to build a family home on his family's land in Godric's Hollow. So instead of a large and impressive home befitting one of the richest and most celebrated wizards in England he had designed, with imput from his daughters, a small, cozy home suitable for a family. The main hall spanned the entire length of the house, starting at the front door and ending at the back of the house with the door leading to the garden. Mahogany paneling lined the walls and oriental rugs of varying sizes and colours covered the hardwood floors.
"This way," Harry said, grabbing her bag and leading her up the stairs. "Here is the bathroom," he said, flicking his wand to light the lamp. A basic bathroom, its walls were painted a pale green. Painted frogs rimmed the bathroom just above the chair rail. "Nice," Hermione said as the life-like frogs leapt over each other in an endless game of leap frog.
"Remus painted it for us," Harry said. "The man is talented."
"No kidding. That's amazing."
"Here is Katie's room," Harry said, turning on the light to the next room.
Hermione was assaulted with pink walls covered with varying sizes of orange, green and white polka dots, four colours that she would have never imagined together, but that she was shocked to discover looked quite nice together. Her furniture was white with hand-painted pull knobs shaped like flowers. Her iron bed was painted a pale green that matched the polka dots and sheer white bed hangings draped from a central point above the bed. "Bright, but I like it," she said in admiration. "She is obviously very girly," Hermione continued.
"Oh, yes, she is. She did all of this herself. Came up with the idea, the colours, the decorations, everything. She was nine years old," Harry said with pride.
"Nine?" Hermione asked in shock. "That is impressive."
"She also helped Jo and Olivia with their rooms."
"Are they all like this?" Hermione asked.
"You'll see," Harry said, walking across the hall. "This is Jo's room," he said.
This room was as different from Katie's as possible. Pale blue walls sat atop a wooden floor painted a deep hunter green. Her bed was pushed up against the far corner and was covered with a deep purple Pride of Portree blanket, a gold star blazoned in the middle. On one wall, a snitch whizzed around, deftly avoiding the two bludgers that were being beaten by bats on either end of the wall. The remaining three walls seemed to be dedicated to posters of Oliver Wood, Catriona McCormack, and The Weird Sisters.
"It's a Quidditch pitch," Hermione observed.
"Yep."
"Did Remus…," she started.
"Yes, he did."
"Wow."
Harry flipped off the light and led her to Olivia's room. "This is where you'll be," Harry said, tossing her duffle on the bed.
Olivia's room consisted of pale yellow walls, white, unadorned furniture and bookshelves filled to the rim with books. A squishy deep red armchair that could have been stolen from the Gryffindor Common Room sat in the corner beside a table with a lamp perched on its well-worn surface.
"Much more my speed," Hermione said.
"I thought you would like it."
Holding her hand, he walked her back down the hall toward the stairs. "Do you need to…," he crooked his head toward the bathroom, "before we go?"
She shook her head and glanced at a closed door that he hadn't shown her. "Is that your room?" she asked.
"Yes, but it's boring."
"Show me," Hermione said, tugging his hand.
He opened the door to a rather bare room. An enormous bed, sans head or footboard with a soft, chocolate-coloured duvet cover took up most of the room. The chest of drawers was a deep mahogany with a small mirror hanging over it. The bare walls were painted an uninspiring beige.
"Katie didn't decorate it for you?"
"She did. Apparently, this is my personality." Hermione's head whipped around to find him grinning at her.
"You're having me on," she laughed.
"Yes, I am. I was afraid of what Katie would come up with, truth be told. Not very exciting, I know. So," he gestured to the plain walls, "beige it is."
"It's nice," Hermione said, looking around.
"It's horrid, but thanks for being polite."
They stood there, looking anywhere but at each other. "Right, well, this room is boring me already. Let's go," he said walking toward the door. "Why don't we go for a walk, I can show you the village…"
"Harry, I've been thinking…," Hermione said in a tiny voice.
Harry stopped and turned, trying for lightheartedness but finding himself filled with dread just the same. "Uh-oh. That's never a good sign," he teased. He attempted a winning grin. "What is it?"
Hermione was wringing her hands and was looking at him with an apprehensive expression. "I…." She cleared her throat, shifting her gaze to the ground. "Yes, well, I've been thinking…," she started before stopping again and swallowing with some difficulty.
Harry walked toward her. "Yes, you've said that."
"Yes, I know," she said impatiently. "Bloody hell," she swore, still not looking at him.
He grasped her chin and lifted her gaze to his. "Should I be worried here, Hermione?"
She opened her mouth, an indistinguishable sound escaping. She closed her eyes and gave her head a slight shake. When she opened her eyes, the apprehension from before was gone. In its place was a look of steely determination, which confused Harry to no end. She leaned forward and placed her lips gently on his. Harry stood frozen for a moment, his mind, which had been preparing itself for heartbreak, took longer to adjust to this turn of events than his body. Her tongue danced along the seam of his lips and thoughts of everything else vanished from his mind.
He cupped her face in his hands and reveled in exploring the wonderful, small cavern of her mouth that he'd been lost in since their first kiss two weeks ago. What struck him then, and now, was how natural it felt to be in her arms. There was no uncertainty, no hesitation; their lips melded together like two halves of a whole. It was this, more than anything that assured him that what he felt for Hermione was right. It was this that made him want more.
He grasped her arms and pushed her away from him. His chest was heaving and he had difficulty focusing on Hermione's face. "Wait," he said. He took a few deep steadying breaths to allow time for her face to come into focus. "The male, testosterone-driven part of me wants me to think this is going…somewhere. The other, much smaller, logical side thinks that I'm reading this wrong."
"Listen to your testosterone-driven side this time, Harry," she said.
Trying to not get over-excited he said, "Right," in a neutral, wary tone of voice. He knew they were treading on delicate ground here where one word could send everything skidding out of control in the wrong direction. "This is what you've been thinking about?"
She cleared her throat again and blushed. "Yes. I'm sorry I'm not being very clear. I'm nervous."
He rubbed her arms up and down, in an effort to console her. "I am, too. That teenager thing coming back."
"Exactly!" she said with a relieved grin. "I never thought I'd feel like a teenager again. Petrified and excited all rolled up together."
"I believe that is called teenage angst."
"Angst!" she said rolling her eyes. "As much as I hate that word, I think it fits," she laughed.
Harry turned his head toward the door. "You think we'd feel more comfortable in the hall? We've never snogged anywhere else."
She stepped closer to him and placed her arms lightly on his chest, her right hand fingering the collar of his shirt. "That all depends."
"On what?" he asked, distracted by thoughts of what was about to happen and the fruity smell of her hair.
"Where's Dobby?" she asked.
"Dobby has been threatened with clothes if he shows his face before morning."
"Harry! You did not!"
"He knows I'd never do it. But it gets the point across that I don't want to be disturbed."
"You are cruel," she said, forcing back a smile. "So you were hoping we might end up in this situation if you're threatening a house elf with freedom."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I swear. I just wanted you to myself with no inopportune interruptions."
Hermione nodded her head and quirked her mouth in a way that told Harry that she didn't believe a word of what he was saying. "Hermione, I swear…" he started, feeling the need to justify himself.
"Harry, can we stop talking? Talking leads to thinking and that always gets me in trouble."
"I seem to remember that your thinking always got us out of troub…"
"Harry, really, shut up," she said, pulling his head forward into a kiss.
"I'm sorry," he said against her mouth, as he walked her backward toward the bed. "I'm nervous."
"Actions speak louder than words," she murmured, nipping his lower lip and turning him around so that his legs bumped against the bed.
She pulled his shirttail out of his trousers and began unbuttoning from the bottom up, her knuckles brushing lightly against his crotch. He thought it was unintentional until he saw the mischievous glint in her eye. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" he said, his heart thumping against his chest.
After finishing with the buttons, she pulled the shirt off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She ran her hands up his bare arms and around to his chest. "God, I hope so," she replied, capturing his lips and pushing him back onto the bed.
**
Daniel stood in the middle of the corridor, book bag slung over his shoulder, and turned around in a circle. He let out a dejected sigh and let his bag drop to the floor. It was no use. He was lost.
He'd been in the library with Jo and Theo studying Charms and listening to them whisper to each other about their second year Transfiguration notes. He watched their camaraderie from the corner of his eye and waited for them to draw him into the conversation. The fact that they were studying second year subjects and assumed that he wouldn't want to talk about it never entered his mind. Instead, the evil seeds of doubt that Katie had planted earlier began to germinate until he felt as if he was going to jump out of his skin.
He bolted up from his chair, shoving stuff in his bag, startling the two of them. "I'm going back to the Common Room," he said.
"Is everything okay?" Jo asked. He paused at the hint of real concern in her voice. Part of him considered staying, but the larger, more immature part of him wanted to brood.
"I'm fine. Just tired. I'll see you two later."
He stood outside the library doors, wondering where he should go. It was too early to go back to Gryffindor Tower. It would be teeming with people still high on the victory over Slytherin from earlier in the day. He didn't want to be around people. He wanted to be alone. But where to go?
He turned to his right, the opposite direction from Gryffindor Tower, and started walking, with no destination in mind, only the idea that he wanted to look out over the grounds. He climbed stairs and walked down corridors, descended stairs and passed too many suits of armor and statues to count until they all started looking the same. His plan, he realised too late, was to go to the Owlery, but he had only a general idea of how to get there from offhand comments by Theo.
Which is how he came to be standing in the middle of a corridor, completely lost. He dropped to the floor and leaned against the wall, reasoning that someone would eventually pass by and give him directions, hopefully before Filch found him. He looked at his watch and saw that he wasn't out past curfew, thank Merlin. He sat there for a few minutes, trying to decide which way to go when he heard a voice from out of the darkness.
"You're lost, aren't you?"
He peered into the darkness, the light from the torches spaced periodically down the hall casting shadows in large, semicircular chunks. Katie Potter stepped out of the nearest half circle of darkness, refueling the feelings of anger Daniel had been trying, without success, to walk away from for the past hour.
"Great, it's you. Where's Filch when you need him?"
"Ouch," she replied. "You'd prefer seeing Filch to me? That is harsher than anything I've ever said to you."
"Yes, well I remember the comments you made to me about my nose when I was six. And I hold a grudge."
"Obviously," she said, trying to restrain a smirk. "So, are you lost?"
"No," Daniel said defiantly.
"Oh, so you enjoy sitting alone in a cold, dark hall surrounded by rusty suits of armor and moldy pictures of dead wizards?"
"You do know we can hear you, right?" a bespectacled overweight witch asked with a yawn.
Katie leveled her gaze at the wizard. "And what are you going to do? Glare at me from your frame?"
"Well, I never," the witch huffed.
"Come on," Katie said, pulling on Daniel's sleeve.
He jerked his arm out of her grasp and followed. "Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you back to Gryffindor Tower."
"And how do you know where Gryffindor Tower is?" he asked incredulously.
She turned to him and wiggled her eyebrows. "I have my ways."
"Why do I not trust you?"
"I don't know. Why don't you trust me, Catalan?" she teased. When he didn't reply, she continued. "Could it be because I'm a…," she gasped dramatically, placing her hand over her mouth, "Slytherin!"
"Maybe it's because you've never been anything but cruel to me."
"You're too sensitive."
"I am not!"
"You are being sensitive right now when all I'm doing is showing you where to go."
He opened his mouth to respond then clamped it shut, realising that she hadn't said one nasty thing to him. But it was early in their encounter and he knew it was only a matter of time. "Where are your minions? I thought you moved in packs."
"My minions?" she laughed. "Now that's funny, Catalan! I didn't know you had a sense of humor."
"Who's joking?" he said, trying not to laugh at her response.
"You must be. Minions, indeed. Are you talking about the girls I was with today?" she asked.
"Yeah, the pack of Aryan-looking witches."
"Ooooh, that does make us sound evil, now, doesn't it?" she said, the good humor still in her voice. "Those are just girls in my year."
"Your friends," he stated.
She stopped and turned to look at him. "No, they aren't my friends," she replied before walking on.
Puzzled by her frankness and disquieted by her demeanor, he followed her. "So, wherewere you going when you found me?"
"To the owlery to send a letter to my Mum," she said, holding a piece of parchment he hadn't noticed before.
"Oh," he said, remembering his original, fuzzy goal. "Would you show me where it is? I've never been up there."
She studied him for a minute. "Sure," she said. "This way," she said, turning around and heading back the way they came.
It turned out that he had been closer to the Owlery than he thought. Two flights of stairs up from where he was, Katie opened the door to the Owlery. The floor was littered with the bones of small animals and the entire room had a stench of feces about it. Despite this, the sight of the rafters soaring up through the circular room to the opened sky above was magnificent to Daniel. He wondered for a split second where all the owls were before remembering that they hunted at night. The rafters were sparsely dispersed with owls, most munching on their latest kill. Daniel ducked as a large eagle owl swooped through the opened window, a rat in his beak, to settle on the rafter just above Daniel's head.
"Wow," he whispered, turning around in a circle, bones and straw crunching beneath his feet.
He saw Katie at the far end of the room, tying her letter onto the leg of a brown barn owl. He walked toward her and heard her speaking in soft endearing tones to the owl as she stroked his feathers. "Is he yours?" Daniel asked.
"Yes, she is," she replied. "Her name is Trio."
"Trio? Why trio?"
She gave another lopsided grin. "She always hoots in sets of threes, don't you, girl?" she said to the owl. As if in understanding, the owl hooted three times.
"Mola," Daniel said, enthralled despite himself.
"Do you want to pet her?" she asked.
"Can I?"
"Sure," she replied, stepping aside to make room for him.
The owl's amber eyes never left him as he walked forward, hand outstretched tentatively. She swiveled her neck, following his hand until it rested on her wing. The feathers were softer than he imagined. "She's beautiful."
"Do you have an owl?" she asked, stroking the owl on its other wing.
"No. I wish."
"Maybe you'll get one for Christmas. Or your birthday."
"Maybe," he said, stepping away from Katie and her owl.
"Off you go," she said to Trio, who hooted three times and launched herself from her perch. They watched her fly off, her wings gracefully carrying her higher and farther away until the pinprick she became vanished.
"Let's get you to Gryffindor Tower before Filch catches you," she said, leading him out of the room and down the corridor.
"What about you? Won't you get in trouble?" he asked. A moment of shock settled on him when he realised that he actually cared if she did get in trouble or not.
"Are you worried about me, Catalan?" she said in a mocking tone, one he was more familiar with.
"No," he replied.
"You shouldn't be. Filch loves me."
"Filch loves you," he deadpanned in disbelief. "Why?"
The wicked grin returned. "He doesn't know me yet."
"Seriously, Potter," he said.
She rolled her eyes. "You just have to have all the answers, don't you? I grew up hearing all about Filch from my Dad. I know enough about him that I think I can manage to work my way out of just about anything."
"You mean manipulate him," Daniel said, relieved that the Katie he knew was returning.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Call it what you want. I call it my trip to Paris."
"What?" he asked, thoroughly confused.
"Nothing. Never mind. We know why I was out in the halls, but why were you wandering the halls alone?"
"I was going back to the Gryffindor Tower."
"Were you?" she asked, arching the eyebrow over her left eye in a perfect half moon. "All alone? Where are Theo and Jo?" she asked as if she knew the answer.
"Studying Transfiguration," he replied.
"Hmm," she said.
He waited for the death blow he knew was coming. She'd set him up perfectly for one of her well-placed jabs. He was rather disappointed when it didn't come. "What? No mocking? No, 'I told you so, Catalan?'" he said, perfectly mimicking her tone of voice, albeit with a slight accent.
She looked at him in surprise. "Funny and a mimic. You have loads of hidden talents, Catalan."
He was completely confused. First she was cruel, then she was nice. Then she would say something that he thought was meant to mock him, but he wasn't entirely sure. Periodically, she flashed a vulnerability that he wouldn't expect before the razor sharp edge of defiance returned.
"You saw it, too, didn't you?" she asked. "That's why you are out here alone."
"If you are talking about Jo and Theo again…," he started.
"Jo and Theo can sod off for all I care," she replied angrily.
Daniel stopped. She turned to face him with her arms crossed over her chest. "What?" she snapped.
"You're jealous," he said, the dawning of realization hitting him.
"What are you talking about?" she replied, a hint of fear in her eyes.
"You're jealous because Jo and Theo are friends with me but won't have anything to do with you."
She let out a bark of a laugh. "You're way off base," she said, pushing past him.
He grabbed her arm and turned her toward him, too excited about the realization that Jo and Theo were actually his friends to see the pain in her eyes. "Am I?" he asked.
She snarled at him. "Yes, you are. And I'm going to laugh my arse off when you realise what I already know." She wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "You are an even bigger idiot than I thought you were. That, Catalan, is quite an accomplishment."
She turned on her heel and stalked off.
"Hey! What about helping me get back to Gryffindor?" he said as she turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
"Hem-hem," he heard a voice behind him say. He turned to see a fat lady in a pink dress staring at himwith an amused expression on her face. "You're there, young man."
"Expecto Patronum," Daniel growled.
"You're Hermione Granger's son, aren't you?" the fat lady asked.
"Yes," Daniel replied sullenly.
"Oh, I remember her fondly. Such a sweet…"
"Yes, I know. She was sweet, smart and an all-around great witch. The smartest witch of her age. Can you please open the bloody door?"
"Obviously, the apple fell far from her tree," the Fat Lady replied tersely before the portrait swung open.
"Daniel! Where have you been?" Jo asked, jumping up from an armchair by the fire.
"I got lost," he said, throwing his book bag on the ground beside the sofa opposite Jo's chair. He looked around for his dreadlocked friend. "Where's Theo?"
Jo looked down, embarrassed. "He was tired. He went to bed."
Daniel snorted. "I'm glad he was so worried about me," he replied.
"I told him I'd get him if you weren't back by eleven."
"You're the one that should be tired," he snapped. "Not Theo. All he did today was stuff himself at the Three Broomsticks and Honeydukes."
"Yes, well, eating has always taken a lot out of Theo," Jo said with a sarcastic smile. She forced her face into a serious expression. "He takes it very seriously."
Daniel looked at his friend, his best friend, and laughed. The fact that Jo, as tired as she must be after her Quidditch match, had stayed up to make sure he returned safely to the common room made him ashamed of all of his pitying self-centered thoughts. He felt foolish for ever believing Katie in the first place and not seeing the real issue, her jealousy, until now. After all, Jo and Theo had gone out of their way to be nice and to include him from the first moment they met. In contrast, Katie had been a constant source of irritation and annoyance. He vowed to never believe another thing that Katie Potter said.
"How did you get lost?"
"I don't know. I was trying to find the Owlery and wasn't paying attention. Next thing I know, I'm in the middle of a long dark hall full of moldy portraits and rusty suits of armor."
"Sounds creepy. How did you find your way back?"
He opened his mouth, Katie's name about to tumble out unchecked. "A Slytherin passing by gave me directions."
"And you trusted them?" Jo asked in disbelief.
"Well, I didn't have much choice, now, did I?"
"At least it wasn't Filch," Jo said bracingly.
"Yeah," Daniel said, staring off into the fire, Katie's parting comments darting around his mind.
"Are you okay, Daniel?" Jo asked. "You've seemed distracted since lunch. Everything okay with your Mum?"
"Oh, yeah, everything's fine," Daniel said, sadness at missing his mum returning to the forefront of his mind.
"She's really nice," Jo said. "Your mum. Pretty, too."
"You think so?" Daniel asked, pride creeping in his voice. He'd always thought his mother was beautiful, and he took inordinate pride when others expressed the same opinion.
"I do." Now it was her turn to gaze into the fire. "Very natural," Jo finished. She looked back at Daniel. "I love her hair. It's so curly!"
"She hates her hair," he replied, laughing. "I've heard her swearing like a sailor about it in the mornings."
"Really?" Jo replied, bending over in laughter. "She doesn't seem the type to swear."
"Oh, trust me. She's the type. Just have to push her buttons."
"Have you ever pushed her buttons?" Jo asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Not since…," he stopped, the smile fading from his face. "Not since my dad died," he finished weakly.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"
He waved her apology off, feeling the familiar burning sensation in his stomach. "It's okay."
An uneasy silence settled over them as the Common Room emptied until there were only a few stragglers left. "You lot had better get up to bed. It's getting late," Olivia said, walking toward them.
"Oh, please," Jo said. "You stay up later than this all the time."
"Yes, well, I'm older."
"I hate it when you use that excuse!" Jo replied, thumping her fist on the arm of her chair.
"Oh, calm down," Olivia said, pushing Jo's hand off and sitting on the arm. Jo playfully punched her before Olivia grasped and held her hand. "What are you two plotting over here?"
"Nothing," Jo said. "We're too young to plot," she finished with a sly grin.
"Cheeky little bint, you are," Olivia replied, tweaking Jo's nose.
Daniel felt an unbidden pang of jealousy on Katie's behalf. His brief wallow in jealous misery at the idea of Theo and Jo excluding him gave him a bit of perspective on how heartrending it must be for Katie to be excluded from her family. As he watched Katie's sisters exchange comfortable barbs, he understood why Katie knew the exact location of Gryffindor Tower.
"Actually," Jo started, "I was about to make a proposition to Daniel."
"I know you are too young for that," Olivia said, winking at Daniel. He felt the heat rush across his face and looked down.
"Stop it, Olivia," Jo said, swatting her sister again. "You are embarrassing him. You know he has a crush on you," she whispered loud enough for Daniel to hear.
Daniel's head shot up, his face in full flame now. "I know," Olivia said, giving him a cheeky smile. "And it is so cute. If only he were a little older…," she said.
"Merlin's beard, Olivia. He's never going to come out of his room after this," Jo chastised. "Daniel, I was going to ask you if you would teach me Spanish," she said in a tone that brooked no refusals.
"Spanish?"
"That is what you and your mum were speaking today at the Three Broomsticks, isn't it?"
"Actually, it was Catalan."
"Oh," Jo said, confused. "I thought you were from Spain."
"I am. I know Spanish, too. Catalan is a dialect common in Barcelona."
"Oh, okay. So, will you teach me?"
"Sí, te enseñaré," he said in Spanish.
"Oohh, very sexy," Olivia teased.
"Gross, Olivia," Jo said, pushing her off the arm of the chair. "Would you go away?"
"Adios," she said, wiggling her fingers at the two of them.
"I'm so sorry," Jo said. "She gets goofy late at night. She is really the serious one of the three, I swear." Jo scooted forward in her chair, draping her arms across her knees in a rather masculine way. "I was thinking, in exchange for teaching me Spanish, I'd teach you how to fly."
"On a broomstick?"
"No, sprout wings and fly. Of course on a broomstick, silly."
"But aren't we going to take a class for that?"
Jo gave a dismissive wave. "Yeah, but I'll teach you all the stuff Madam Hooch won't. Do you know how to fly? Ever been on a broomstick?"
"I was starting to learn before…," he paused almost imperceptibly, "my dad died. Mum won't get within ten feet of a broomstick."
"You're a beginner. That's okay," she said as if devising a lesson plan in her mind. "We're going to get you on the house team next year!"
"What?" Daniel asked. "The house team?"
"Sure, why not?"
"I don't know. I've just never thought about it before."
"Well, start thinking." She stood up, stretched and yawned. "Now, I'm knackered."
Daniel stood up and draped his book bag across his shoulder. He cleared his throat. "How did you know?" At Jo's nonplussed look, he continued, not meeting her eyes. "About Olivia."
He heard her chuckle. "You are rather obvious, Daniel. And anyway, everyone has a crush on either Olivia or Katie. Considering how you and Katie act, it wasn't too difficult to figure out which one you chose. Good night," she said, punching him on the arm and walking up the girls' staircase.
Daniel trudged up the stairs, visions of his four poster bed beckoning him higher and higher.
**
"Are you alive over there?" Hermione asked, pushing on Harry's shoulder.
"Barely," he replied with a sigh. "Good lord, woman. I'm an old man. If this is what is in store for me, I might have to rethink this whole thing."
"Too late, Mr. Potter." She rolled over on her stomach and crossed her arms under the pillow, staring at Harry, a sated grin on her face. Harry was lying on his back, staring with glassy eyes at the ceiling. His chest, covered with a thin sheen of sweat, was rising and falling, slower and slower as his heartbeat settled back down to normal. His glasses were somewhere…maybe the floor, she thought…and without them his face looked bare. Small indentations on his temple where his glasses usually sat pointed the way to the locks of sweaty hair that framed his face.
He jerked his head to the side, catching her gaze. "What?" he asked with a grin.
She shook her head rapidly. "Nothing," she said, trying to suppress the giddy smile at the memory of his expression when he came. Thoughts of the noises she'd made, the faces that she was sure would be embarrassing to see, and the knowledge that she'd just, to put it plainly, fucked Harry to within an inch of his life flew through her mind, mortifying her. She picked the pillow up and buried her head under it and let out a muffled scream.
She heard Harry laugh and felt him move onto his side, closer to her. "What?" he chuckled, trying to remove the pillow.
"NO," she said, a fierce grip on the pillow.
"Okay, you asked for it."
She felt the rush of cool air as he threw the sheet off of her body. He planted a soft, warm kiss on her shoulder, chasing away the chill from the exposed air. "What are you doing?" she murmured from under the protection of the pillow.
"Torturing you," he said, continuing to plant sensual kisses along her back.
"Yes, Harry, you're right. This is torture." She shivered as his tongue ran up her spine. "Please stop making me feel all gooey inside this instant."
He skimmed his body over hers, moving his lips up to her neck. He pushed her hair to the side and kissed the base of her neck. "That is the torture," he whispered beneath the pillow. "The threat that I might stop," he said, kissing her other shoulder. "Why do you have the pillow over your head?"
She picked it up a fraction and said quickly, "I'm embarrassed," before clamping it back down.
Harry stopped kissing her. "Embarrassed? Whatever for?"
"Keep kissing and I'll tell you," came the muffled reply.
"Tell me and I'll keep kissing."
"Compromise," she said. "Pull the sheet up and I'll tell you."
"What? Why?" he said, running his hand down her back, across her arse and down her thigh.
"We may have the teenage angst going, but I don't have the teenage body to go with it. Pull the sheet up."
"Compromise," he said, covering her body with his own. He grasped the pillow and threw it to the end of the bed. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to recapture the darkness of the traitorous pillow. "Why are you embarrassed," he whispered in her ear, before placing a soft kiss on her cheek.
She covered her face with her hand. "I just…" she paused, not able to say fuck out loud and embarrassed to admit that was what it had been. "Shagged you," she finished.
"And that's embarrassing, why?"
"It isn't altogether embarrassing. It is the little, individual things that made up the one big thing that's embarrassing."
"Like when you…"
She reached back awkwardly and covered his mouth with her hand. "Don't. Don't say it."
"Why not?" he laughed. "You did it, why can't you say it?"
"I don't want to hear it spoken out loud, on the record, making me feel like I'm some sort of randy tart."
"Does this mean that…that won't happen again? Or that thing…"
"Harry, stop, really," she laughed, struggling to turn over underneath him. She clasped her hand fully over his mouth. "Really," she said. Harry nodded his head in assent and she removed her hand.
He smoothed her errant hair away from her forehead, his eyes searching her face. "We both know what that was," he whispered, his green eyes settling on hers.
"What?" she said, voice quivering with fear.
"That was two years of sexual frustration being laid to rest…and probably something else," he said.
"Harry…," she started.
"Shhhh," he said with his lips pressed to hers. He kissed her cheek, her forehead, the tip of her nose and her other cheek. "That's okay. It's over and it was amazing. But now it's my turn." His soft, velvety lips met hers in a tender, lingering kiss. The timbre of his voice deepened as it moved in soft caressing waves through her mind. "Now, it's time to make love" he breathed into her ear, in between planting kisses along her jaw and down her neck. "Are you ready for that?"
She nodded her head in assent, unable to wrap her voice around the small word of affirmation. "I didn't hear you," he said, kissing the curve of her shoulder.
"Yes," she croaked, her mind taken captive by the sensations humming through her body. She swallowed the fear that was rising in her chest. "I though you were an old man," she croaked, the feel of his hardening penis on her inner thigh.
"I'm not dead yet," he whispered.
She closed her eyes and tangled her fingers in Harry's soft locks as his mouth traveled down her body, pausing to give detailed attention to her breasts, before continuing on to kiss and lick the small bump that was her belly button. She watched in her mind, as if from above, Harry's hand slide down her leg and back up her thigh. His hand rested at her hip, his thumb fondling the soft pale skin of her inner thigh, just brushing the curls between her legs. She moved her hips in anticipation of that thumb continuing its exploration but was rewarded instead with Harry's warm lips planting a trail of kisses down the line where her leg ended and her frustration began.
"Harry," she pleaded.
"Yes, love," he said, nuzzling the curls between her legs and inhaling deeply.
"Stop teasing…," she began before feeling his finger glide inside her. "Oooookay," she said as his tongue began to fondle her nub. She threw her arms out to the side, completely surrendering her body and soul to Harry. She opened her eyes and looked down at the top of his head, bobbing up and down, sending her reeling into oblivion with every lick of his tongue and thrust of his hand.
Love, not desire, swelled up inside her chest. She saw the paths of their life draw together again, a final time, completing a great circle started almost thirty years before on the day they met. Everything that had come before - their lives, their experiences without each other - it was all necessary for them to become whole. They had suffered, that much was impossible to deny. But the pain, the discovery, the paths they'd chosen…it had all led to this moment of completion. A sense of inevitability hit her; she realised that she had known all along that this chapter of her life, the one with Harry as the central character, hadn't ended when she was a teenager.
"Harry," she whispered, her fingers brushing at the forelock of hair draped across his scar. He opened his eyes to hers and stopped. Their ability to communicate without words, a skill taken for granted during their school days, returned the instant theirs eyes met. He crawled up her body, a boyishly giddy grin on his face.
"Yes, love?" he said, eyes twinkling with their unspoken understanding.
She rubbed her thumb across his wet chin, the stubble of the day rough under her finger. "Make love to me," she replied, her eyes sparkling in acknowledgement.
"As you wish," he said as he slid inside her, their journey back to each other complete.