Number One Girl

lonelywriter

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 04/03/2005
Last Updated: 11/03/2005
Status: in_progress

‘For my number one girl – always you.’

Chapters

1. Wanting

2. Welcoming

3. Meeting

4. Discussing

5. 'Ship' Notes

6. Preparing

1. Wanting

The ripples on the water called out to her as they did, every afternoon; beckoning her to pour out her woes. A giant squid lazily waved its tentacles at the blue sky while the clouds seemed as if they were winking at her, whilst floating over the land.

Hermione Granger sighed - for what felt like the millionth time - as she embarked on her daily ritual of lunch by the lake, obsessing over her life, analysing it to the point of distraction, and stomping back off to the castle in a fit of frustration at the lack of answers she inevitably came up with, every single day.

The castle….she turned her head to look up at the castle towering up amidst the hills it nestled in and looming majestically over the Scottish countryside. It reminded her of another one, some distance away, much more impressive and much more ancient. If she closed her eyes, she could picture herself on the Quidditch pitch, sitting with bated breath in the stands. She could easily hear the roar of the Gryffindor team, the cheers and mad applause that thundered throughout the air at Quidditch matches and the deafening screams – a sure sign that Harry Potter, youngest seeker in a century, had once again, as usual, caught the elusive snitch.

Hermione opened her eyes haltingly to find tears streaming down her cheeks again, unbidden as always whenever she thought of Harry. Of course, since this was just about every minute of the day, she had taken to having a regular supply of tissues somewhere on her person.

Stop it, for God’s sake, Hermione,’ she scolded herself sternly. ‘He’s absolutely fine and he said he would be back, It’s been only two months after all…and…and…and…’ But it was a lost cause and her shoulders heaved as a heavy sob wracked her body, escaping her lips as a strangled gasp. ‘Harry, oh Harry, please come back to me. Please, please come back to me…’

‘When I first heard about you, I never thought I’d see the day when the SPEW’s revolutionary leader would burst in tears so much over a man.’

A soft teasing voice, laced with humour cut through her gloom and hastily wiping her cheeks, Hermione turned around with a smile to find Luna Lovegood standing over her. She gestured to a spot next to Hermione, ‘May I?’

Hermione grinned ruefully at her ‘Sit down Luna, I guess the SPEW’s revolutionary leader is looking pretty pathetic right about now. I’m a right buggered mess, aren’t I?’

Luna shook her head and replied. ‘Not at all, Hermione. You are in love. There’s nothing pathetic with that.’ She turned her gaze to the lake, while still looking sideways at her bushy haired friend and continued, ‘What could be considered pathetic would be your adamant refusal to divulge the same to my emerald-eyed brother.’

Hermione scoffed and turned her head away from her, mock-offended and then stared at her thoughtfully, ‘It still seems…unusual…when you refer to Harry as your brother…I mean, I can understand why, but well, I never ever thought…’

‘That a dreamy, weird, crumple-horned snorcack hunting character like me would end up with Ron and have the The Boy Who Lived wanting to make me his sister?’ Luna arched an amused eyebrow at her, but her blue eyes shined with mirth and her blonde locks stirred merrily in the breeze that had deigned to start.

‘No, no, no’ Hermione blushed furiously. ‘I didn’t mean it like that Luna, its just I guess…I was already with him as his best friend for six years at the time and he never, not even once…was affectionate and open with me, like he was with you…’ she trailed off, feeling uncomfortable and a bit selfish.

She could see full well why Harry and Luna would be drawn to finding empathy within each other.

Both had lost parents, both were scorned at various times by the Hogwarts community. But the ease with which Harry had been able to talk to Luna made her uneasy and suddenly she felt that she had been nothing more than a horrible nag all their years together at Hogwarts. Seeing Harry affectionately converse with Luna, tease her like he really would tease his kid sister and be physically demonstrative such as hugging her and giving quick pecks on the cheeks had been painful for her…

‘But then, you wouldn’t want sisterly affection from Harry now, would you?’ Luna’s smile was sly and she waggled her eyebrows comically at Hermione, who looked stunned for a minute and then burst into laughter.

She suddenly realised what Luna had said and whipped her head around to stare at her ‘Luna, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that out loud…I…I’ she looked stricken and Luna gently pulled her into a hug.

‘It’s alright Hermione.’ She released her, tucking a bushy lock of brown hair behind her friend’s ear. ‘Just remember that it’s easy to be open with sisters, but not with girls you don’t consider your sisters.’

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Luna interrupted her yet again, ‘That’s why Ron was so tongue-tied around you in Hogwarts.’ Hermione closed her mouth feeling uncomfortable but there was no malice or jealousy in Luna’s face.

Then again, Hermione thought, she didn’t really have anything to be jealous about. After all, she and Ron were together for barely three months and besides trying to kiss exactly 2 times, they hadn’t done anything else other than holding hands. It was this impasse of sorts that made both Ron and Hermione call it quits.

Would you really want to be with a guy or a girl who was technically known as your boyfriend or girlfriend and still behave exactly as if you were just friends?

Hermione bit back a smile as she realised that the inadvertent catalyst to the ending of their brief ‘dating’ had been Harry. He had been slightly reserved with both of them, feeling a tad left out although he had valiantly declared otherwise. Still, their ‘dating’ hadn’t really altered the dynamics of the trio. They did go everywhere together, do everything together.

However, when three Hogsmeade weekends had been spent by them together as a trio, Harry had ventured to delicately enquire if the couple was alright. Ron and Hermione were truthfully surprised at his question and upon asking why, Harry had muttered that well…they didn’t seem to want to do anything alone….just the two of them. He had made it perfectly clear that they could go to Hogsmeade weekends alone if they wanted and confessed that he had been only initially scared of feeling left out.

This had made Hermione and Ron consider their so-called relationship in a whole new light. Both realised that what they had been looking for in each other was security. They had fought like mad, seen each other in horrible mood swings…..

….and they were ok with it.

Which basically translated into a feeling of complacency that they didn’t need to change themselves for each other and, things could continue at status quo. Hermione had admitted that they were both stagnant and lacking spontaneity. Neither had given impromptu gifts, they had never felt the urge to cuddle and for Heaven’s sake they hadn’t even done anything romantic! Ron had asked with a sheepish smile if they could just go back to being friends and Hermione had instantly agreed, relieved and cognisant that a large part of the reason they had been together in the first place was the general pressure that opposites attracted and the expectations of the Hogwarts community at large, that they would get together.

Hermione was jarred out of her reverie as Luna waved a hand in front of her face. ‘Hullo, hullo…’ she tutted exasperatedly.

Hermione gave her a small smile and suddenly crushed her in a hug. When she pulled away she was smiling through her tears. ‘You are a wonderful person, Luna and I’m sorry I was dismissive of you when we first met way back. I am really happy for you and Ron and thanks so much for being my friend.’

Luna gave off a musical chuckle. ‘Honestly Hermione, there’s nothing to be thankful for. I am grateful that you welcomed me into your fold so warmly. With you as my friend, Ron as my guy and Harry as my brother, I really have nothing else to ask for.’ Her face darkened as she remembered her father. ‘It’s been sad that we have lost so many.’

Hermione choked down a lump in her throat and nodded, ‘I still miss Hagrid and even though Professor Dumbledore comes around here almost everyday, he isn’t the same...I’ve never seen him looking so old and frail, Luna.’

‘That’s why he entrusted the school to you, silly goose. After all, who better than the witch to get the highest number of NEWTS ever, and scores second to only Voldemort and Dumbledore themselves?’

Hermione nudged her friend playfully, ‘I wasn’t aiming for that, you know.’ She sighed wistfully, ‘I was more concerned with keeping Harry alive at the time.’

Luna snorted and then sighed, ‘You’ve done a brilliant job, Hermione. This school is the perfect place for kids to learn, grow and find themselves before they go to Hogwarts.’

Hermione shook her head, ‘It was Harry’s idea. The thought of all those children, alone and orphaned…he just couldn’t bear it’

She shuddered as his haunted visage floated in front of her eyes. The gaunt look in his eyes as he had seen the hordes of wailing children, rendered defenceless and homeless by Voldemort’s mad and insane rampage for power. She remembered as he came storming to her one evening, aglow with tentative plans for opening a school for magical children – a haven before Hogwarts.

‘You think it could have been done without you?’ Luna asked softly. ‘Hermione, the reason he came to you before he even came to Ron or me was because you were the person he most trusted….and he still does, you know, even if he doesn’t overtly realise it.’

At Hermione’s surprised look, she nodded emphatically and continued, ‘Honestly love, your opinion is what he respects the most. He might have had this brilliant idea but there was no way he could have pulled it off without you. And there was no one happier than him when Dumbledore conferred the running of the Marauder’s Mansion for Young Wizards and Witches on you. I know he left and promised to come soon, but he’s just been through so much...’

‘I know, Luna. For God’s sake, I was there at the time; he came back after defeating Voldemort so bloody, battered and bruised…I hate a part of myself for wishing that he wouldn’t go. He, more than anyone else has the right to take a few months off…but oh gosh, I just miss him so much. I know the dark thoughts that haunt him. Luna, what if he is somewhere in pain with only his thoughts….you know how he blames himself for everything…’ Hermione broke down in tears and barely registered Luna pulling her into a hug again and stroking her hair.

She gave a tearful laugh as she recalled how she and Harry had gone about trying to name the school. After combing through some ridiculous names, she had tentatively put forth the idea of naming it after the Marauders. This way Harry, you would be honouring your parents and Sirius as well….they sacrificed themselves to aid your defeat of Voldemort. This would be a fine way to thank them and preserve their memory. She hadn’t expected Harry to react so enthusiastically and suggest to Dumbledore that she run the school – for Merlin’s sake they were only nineteen years old!

Of course Harry had been very understanding telling her that she needn’t do it if she were enrolling for something else. After all with her NEWT scores, the sky was practically the limit for her but the chaos of the war had jarred her. She wanted to do something that satisfied her heart as well as her mind and the prospect to help in rebuilding the wizarding world seemed very timely and appealing.

Another incident had further clinched her decision. As Hermione and Harry had walked towards Hogwarts to assist in the ongoing repair work, she had come across a tired and decimated wizarding family. The mother sat alone surrounded by two precocious little boys, looking bewildered and not quite believing that her husband had left her. Her sons were encased possessively within her arms and the lost, vulnerable look that adorned her wizened, grieving face was horrifically etched on Hermione’s mind. In a blinding moment of clarity, she realised how a school for young wizards and witches would go a long way to restoring peace, order and security in the aftermath of Voldemort’s defeat. For victory came with a terrible price - the loss of numerous loved ones, and their beloved Hogwarts all but razed to the ground.

Hermione shivered as she remembered how she, Harry, Ron, Luna and hordes of other students had stared in disbelief at the flames leaping up from various points in the castle. Harry’s eyes had blazed a roaring green and Godric Gryffindor’s sword hung limply from his hand as he got his first view in the daylight of the carnage that Voldemort had created, all in an effort to kill his teenage nemesis. His haunted eyes had shown only two purposes for the next year. Firstly, repair Hogwarts. Secondly, provide housing for the homeless children. Hermione had watched him struggle to accept that the war had torn families apart and knew that vivid and terrible memories of the Dursleys were now forcibly surfacing and confronting him, reliving themselves in his head through these homeless children. She had hugged and soothed and rocked and cradled his battered body and bruised mind as he struggled to come to terms with his life and move on from The Boy Who Lived.

Her heart had shattered inconsolably when Harry had come to her one morning after Maruaders was well underway and requested a favour. There was finality in his tone that made her flesh crawl and although she was relieved that he was intending to come back soon, it had taken all of her self-control not to scream and plead that she loved him, wanted him to stay and not go. But one look into his hollow emerald sockets had stopped her.

More than anyone, he deserved to take a little time off to think and when he had wrapped his arms around her, whispering fevered promises into her hair, she had broken down. Demanded that he come home soon, if not for anyone else, then at least for her. She despised herself for being so emotional and weak in front of him who needed her to be strong but then, Harry had always been her ultimate undoing.

Unconsciously, Hermione’s hand reached up and clasped the locket around her neck, given by Harry on that fateful evening before he left. While requesting that she run Marauders in his absence along with Ron, Neville and Luna, he had presented her with a silver locket engraved in old English script with a heart-warming message that simultaneously managed to send pain rocketing through her body.

‘For my number one girl – always you.’

Hermione had firmly told her dancing mind to shut up – he doesn’t feel that way about you, idiot – and replied softly that she would preserve this locket to give to his number one girl in the future, his wife. Harry had simply grimaced and cynically remarked that love wasn’t going to be finding his screwed up mind and personality anytime soon.

But a tiny part of Hermione clung to the hope that he would realise that she had always found him and that she might never have to take the locket off.

Lost in reverie as she was, she didn’t hear the steady crunch of feet behind her or the gentle hand that had placed itself on her left shoulder.

She was startled when she felt another pair of arms wrap themselves around her from behind and relaxed when a familiar and loved voice sounded playfully in her ear, ‘I am still getting used to looking for you anywhere other than the library.’

Hermione smiled and made a weak effort to wipe her tears as she found herself encased within Ron Weasley’s bear-hug. Luna still held her hands and Hermione thanked the Lord yet again that she was surrounded by such warm and caring people. But I still want Harry; I need him and only him! When will he arrive…?

Apparently she had voiced the last aloud, as she felt Ron stiffen and awkwardly move away. She lifted her head from his shoulder in surprise and turned to find Luna looking at her boyfriend questioningly as well. Luna spoke quietly, ‘Is anything wrong Ronald? I was expecting you a while back…are Mum and Dad alright…Fred, George and Ginny…’

‘They’re fine’ was Ron’s curt reply as he strode over towards the edge of the lake.

Hermione and Luna stared at each other and then took off after him. ‘Ron, what in the world is going on?’ Hermione panted as she struggled to match his ludicrously long strides. It would seem that Ron Weasley wasn’t content at towering over everyone at an impressive 6’1. Luna was literally jogging.

Ron abruptly stopped nearly sending Hermione and Luna careening into each other as they both scrambled to get in his path. He shoved his hands in his pockets and steadfastly looked at the sky. ‘I got an owl today.’

Both women exchanged uncertain glances and Luna spoke up. ‘Love, that doesn’t sound like such bad news, now.’ She laid a hand on his arm and then squeezed his fingers with her other hand. ‘Who’s it from?’

Ron’s gaze quickly shifted to Hermione and then back to his girlfriend. He opened his mouth and closed it with a snap again, muttering something inaudible. Hermione groaned and stomped her foot in frustration, looking very much like her eleven year old self. ‘Ronald Weasley, what on earth are you going on about?’

‘Before coming here this evening, I received an owl from Harry Potter. Said he’s coming home.’

2. Welcoming

A/N: Many, many thanks for the reviews and for the warm welcome – I was quite apprehensive as I have been a closet writer and haven’t really had the courage to post something up. But thank you again, for all your comments – all duly noted!

Regarding more updates, I am giving the 2nd chapter now – it might be a week before I can get the third up, there are some plot issues that I am trying to resolve *wink*

Thank you again! And hope you enjoy this instalment!

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

Of course keeping in nature with the general cussedness of things in general, Hermione would feel that the last thing she wanted was to see Harry again. She paced in her office feverishly thinking about the bombshell Ron had dropped without ceremony, the previous afternoon.

Harry Potter was coming back.

After 5 months.

When he had promised to be back in two months.

Well actually no, Hermione relented. He really hadn’t made any such promise, only vowed to come as soon as he could and as soon as he was able. It was she who had stipulated that he had come back in two months. He had smiled ruefully with that trademark megawatt grin that never failed to make her forget where she was and had softly kissed her forehead murmuring that he would try and that all the forces couldn’t keep him away from Scotland and home.

Scotland. Hermione let her forehead rest against her arms as she collapsed in near exhaustion at her desk, her legs screaming in relief. Scotland had become home for all, she mused. The war as hateful and grotesque as it had been, had also served to make the bonds of friendship and love deeper and tighter than ever and people had been sharply alerted to the fact that life, fragile and fleeting could slip from their grasp in the next minute, hour, day, week, month or year.

Everybody had scrambled to make a concerted effort to live close by. Reassurance and comfort, provided unconditionally was what had made all of them persevere and Hermione knew without all of them looking out for each of other, the dark ages would still loom over like a gloomy spectre and threaten the slightest glimmer of happiness.

It was also odd to see people marrying at such a young age. While Ron was nearing his twentieth birthday, Fred and George already twenty-two had nearly given Molly and Arthur Weasley a heart attack by announcing their engagement to Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, respectively. A small chuckle escaped Hermione’s lips as she recalled the pasty white shade that Molly had turned – she’d been so convinced that her wayward twin sons would be the last to settle down.

It wasn’t just them though. Everybody seemed to have a significant other to lean on, except her. She gave a hollow laugh that the walls of her office seemed to throw back at her. And she couldn’t blame anyone either. As much as she was in love with Harry, life didn’t stipulate that he absolutely had to love her back. ‘I’m going crazy. Any minute now, I am going to see him and then I am going to blurt something absolutely stupid and spectacularly idiotic and then Ron wont stop teasing me and Harry will never want to see me again and-..’

‘Hermione Jane Granger!’

Hermione turned to see Luna’s blonde locks peeking through the door and her blue eyes laughing joyously. ‘He will be here any minute, Hermione! Come on! We are all in the Hall!’

Hermione’s heart thudded loudly in her chest and she distinctly felt the sweat coat her hands. Torn between disgust for such a forceful reaction to merely his impending presence and rapture at actually and finally seeing him, she felt as if she were on an emotional rollercoaster and grabbed the edge of her desk.

Luna’s eyes morphed into a concerned turquoise as she saw Hermione shakily sit on the singular armchair. She hurried over to her, ‘Hermione...Good Lord, you are pale and sweaty. Are you alright?!’

Hermione vigorously shook her head in protest but found herself clutching at Luna with panicked hands, ‘I’m fine, Luna, really I am. Oh God no! No, I am not. Luna, what do I say? What if he doesn’t like what I have done with the Maruaders? What if he hates some of the things I have introduced? I should have told him, sent an owl…oh, and my hair is acting up again and I know he thinks I’ll nag -..’

Luna stared, dumbfounded. Finding her voice, she tried to interrupt edgewise and finally took out her wand, training it on the other occupant of the room, now adding hand-wringing and sweat on her forehead to her already hyperventilating self.

‘Silencio!’

If Hermione had not been so deathly pale, Luna would have had a hearty laugh. She looked surprised and then started to angrily gesture. Luna smiled and clutched Hermione’s trembling hands. ‘Oh Hermione, he’ll love everything you’ve done with the school.’ When Hermione still looked at her dubiously, she pressed on, ‘because it’s you, silly. In Harry’s eyes, the chances of you doing anything wrong are about on par with Snape actually liking him.’

Hermione rolled her eyes at Luna’s analogy but then frowned and insistently pointed at her non-existent lips. Luna’s eyes gleamed but she forced a stern expression, ‘No, not until you promise that you will pull yourself together, right now.’ She held up a hand to stave off the inevitable protest and continued, ‘It’s Harry. Your best friend. You needn’t be anything but yourself for him. That’s all he would ever want.’ She finished softly tapping her wand against Hermione’s face. She stood up and inclined her head towards the door. ‘Come on Hermione and don’t be worried. And it’s about time you tell him when he gets back.’ She finished, smiling slyly.

Hermione gaped at her effecting an affronted expression but then sniffed disdainfully and sailed past her with Luna laughing silently to herself and following behind.

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

The Hall was looking fantastic.

No, beyond that. It was splendidly breathtaking.

She gulped silently forcing herself to move towards the small group huddling and whispering excitedly a little behind the doors. Ron was the first to notice her and he grabbed her into an impromptu waltz twirling her madly around to hideously loud and off-tune chants of ‘Harry’s coming home today, home today, home today! Harry’s coming home today, home today, home today!’

Hermione’s flushed face and breathless shrieks of protest echoed through the hall and all its occupants turned towards the friends now engaged in a mad spin or rather Hermione trying with little success to disentangle herself from Ron’s less than graceful display of dancing skills. Laughter and hooting floated through the air to the group near the doors where Luna and Ginny were hanging onto each other with tears of mirth streaming down their faces. Ginny leaned over and whispered, ‘Gods, it just isn’t the same without Harry, is it? I’m so glad he’s finally coming back.’

Luna nodded, valiantly trying to restrain the tears of relief hiding beneath her joy. ‘It certainly isn’t Gin. I’ve missed him so much and the Trio just isn’t the same as well. I mean we are all close friends now but Ron, Hermione and Harry would never be the same if anything happened to any one of them.’

Ginny placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and was about to reply when a roar arose from the throng of students swarming the gates to the Mansion. She was dimly aware of an answering one from Ron, a rapturous cry from Luna and Hermione and giggled as she caught sight of even stern, schoolmistress-faced, bespectacled McGonagall trying to keep up her waspish front and avoid bursting full-speed towards the grounds.

However, it wasn’t necessary for any one to move.

For in the doorway, stood the object of all their affections and musings.

The lightning bolt scar was a dull red but was still healing itself. Blue jeans, a thick polo neck sweatshirt and a knee length coat, both black completed his muggle ensemble while a dilapidated but curiously bulging backpack lay slung over his right shoulder. He looked much older than his nearly twenty years, and the chiselled lines of his face spoke of an old soul scarred and bruised by frequent brushes with death in its numerous and grotesque forms. Hermione let her eyes travel in unconcealed anguish and wonder over his lanky frame, and held her breath as he began to advance with cat-like grace and measured, precise steps. She shuddered as she imagined how his lithe figure could easily creep up on someone unawares and how adeptly he could melt into shadows. His gait radiated confidence, poise and self-assuredness.

A shiver raced down her spine, an intense tingle settled in her toes and fingertips.

For a moment, she was forcibly reminded of the very moment she had first seen him after his defeat of Voldemort. She, Ron and the rest of the DA had been furiously battling with Death Eaters just outside the majestic gates of Hogwarts but Harry and Voldemort had taken their own sixteen year old battle into the depths of the Forbidden Forest. No one knew what had happened in there and Harry had offered no answers. All they knew was that an unearthly howl of unimaginable agony and pain-wracked sobs had rendered the air for a continuous ten unbearable minutes and the very earth had begun to shake. For the first time, the trees of the Forbidden Forest swayed violently under the sheer magical aura that was pulsing from within. Hermione full of terror at the mere thought that any of that pain could have come from Harry, had raced to Dumbledore’s side ready to beg, curse, plead, cajole, threaten or hex him into helping or allowing her to help.

Dumbledore had turned serious eyes upon her sadly and worriedly. An impenetrable shield had been struck all around the forest and not by him, preventing any possible entry or exit, even from any wizard as powerful as himself. Hermione desperately fought back a wave of nausea and overwhelming horror determined to engulf her as she realised what Harry had done.

He had put up the barrier. One that even Dumbledore couldn’t break through. This was Harry’s fight to the finish. Either he or Voldemort would come out at the end.

She absolutely refused to consider that perhaps no one would. She just wouldn’t accept that she could lose Harry. No. That wasn’t an option at all. Most certainly not.

She was just about to make a mad and hopeless charge against the barrier when a sudden deathly silence fell over the grounds. Fervent thankfulness over the cessation of the inhuman wailing morphed into painful knots of tension, as the Light and Dark alike stopped mid-battle and looked towards the plumes of dark smoke pouring copiously out of the forest. Hermione thought she distinctly made out a shiny rip, pulsing and twisting in the sky above the forest but the image was gone as quickly as she had imagined it and she rubbed her eyes tiredly.

Then the smoke cleared. Hermione felt her throat constrict and go dry as she was able to make out a hazy outline of a figure slumped at the shoulders and head bent down. Her heart pounded furiously and sweat slid down her figures in rivulets as the first signs of a tired but undeniably victorious Harry James Potter became visible to all.

Nobody spoke. The silence was deafening as the Death Eaters and the Light stared in stunned disbelief, albeit for opposite reasons. Harry had the sword of Godric Gryffindor held over his right shoulder and was clutching a bundle of robes in his left arm. Fawkes was perched on his shoulder.

He was slowly but steadily making his way towards Dumbledore who was watching him with nothing short of pride and unconcealed, unabashed love. As Harry passed Hermione, he turned to wink tiredly at her and Hermione couldn’t conceal a strangled gasp.

Good Lord, Harry. What happened in there?

His scar was a fierce red and it was open with the blood flowing freely down the right side of his face. His hair was matted with what looked like a mixture of dirt, mud and dried cakes of blood. More blood trickled down out of the left corner of his mouth in an obscenely uniform fashion and his hands appeared singed with horrific burns. His robes were in tatters, his lips were chapped and cracked, gray shadows ringed his eyes but oh Merlin! She had never seen them blaze to this intensity. For the first time ever Hermione closed her eyes and tried to calm herself as she tried to assimilate the true extent of his sheer magical prowess. How could his eyes glow so vividly? It was almost as if Lily’s love and sacrifice for Harry was physically tangible at that moment. Hermione instinctively knew that Harry had seen his parents inside the forest. They had somehow assisted in Voldemort’s defeat. But she wouldn’t know anything for a while yet.

A long while. Not until he had healed. Not until the fires had cooled, the scars soothed and the shards of his heart and spirit brought back together.

Harry had reached Dumbledore by now and she saw him wordlessly drop the bundle of robes at his feet. From inside his left pocket, he withdrew a wand, snapped it in two and proceeded to drop the two halves on the bundle. Hermione held up a hand to her mouth to stop the nausea creeping up again. He had brought Voldemort’s robes and wand as proof. He had done it. He had finally done it.

He had fulfilled his destiny. But how?

That would be something she could find out later. Harry had just collapsed in Dumbledore’s arms and Hermione found herself at his side not a second later, hugging him as if attempting to will the life and love back into him through her warm touch and loving caresses.

It would be only after two whole days that Dumbledore would inform her that she had apparated over to his side without knowing it and without having ever gone through a single lesson. Such was the strength of her conviction and intensity of her love.

As she looked at Harry still slowly making his way down the hall towards the centre, Hermione closed her eyes and took a steadying breath, aware that the very same intensity burned today. It hadn’t dimmed one wit.

And she was going to be in big trouble if Harry continued to stare at her with those emerald beauties that should be made illegal.

Ron apparently was untroubled by any such observation and also wasn’t on memory lane as he shoved her unceremoniously to the side and launched himself at Harry with another resounding roar.

The two friends - no, brothers - stared at each other until Ron felt the unshed tears in his eyes begin to traverse his cheeks. ‘You dumb, bloody prat’ was all he could manage before he threw his arms around him, letting the tears flow freely and sobbing into his shoulder while managing to speak at the same time. ‘You prat…why were you gone so long…I was angry when I got your owl yesterday, couldn’t have relaxed at home, could you….do you have any idea how much we missed you so?’

He felt Harry’s tears wet his neck in turn and pulled back to see Harry flashing a trademark lopsided grin at him that had signalled the beginning of yet another Invisibility Cloak adventure back in their Hogwarts days. Harry was gripping Ron’s forearms tightly and nodding back at him, ‘God...I’m so sorry but I had to go and oh Ron, I missed you so much as well.’ Then, in an afterthought as a wider grin split his face, ‘especially whenever I ate anything delicious. You and your fearsome appetite were never far from my thoughts.’

Ron snorted and then clapped him on the back, unaware that the entire hall was rejoicing in the devotion between the two boys. He then turned around and was surprised to find Hermione still standing stiff and seemingly frozen away from them. He frowned, ‘I would have thought that she would have knocked me over to reach him first.’ The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile and he backed away looking at Harry pointedly and then inclining his head with a wry smile towards Hermione.

Harry looked at her and the grin turned up a notch to blindingly radiant. He silently opened his arms, beckoning her to him wordlessly and that was all Hermione needed.

Her feet must have touched the ground at some point, she was certain. Otherwise how would she now be so tightly encased within his arms, inhaling the scent of something mysteriously and yet so indefinably him? She clasped her arms tighter around his waist and pushed her face into his chest. He wasn’t as tall as Ron but he was tall enough to tuck her head under his chin and she couldn’t stop the sob escaping her mouth as she felt Harry press a soft comforting kiss on her hairline and squeeze her tightly. He pulled back and cradled her face within his hands. ‘Come on now, Hermione. No more tears. I told you I’d be back, and here I am.’ He tapped the side of her nose with a callused finger.

Hermione sniffed, aware that her face must be ridiculously red and puffy from intermittent bouts of violent sobbing and that her cheek would bear the imprints of the buttons from Harry’s coat where she had pressed her face into. ‘I’m sorry. I know you were expecting a happier welcome and here I am just sobbing on you, but I have worried about you for eight years and I can’t just stop-..’ Harry placed a finger on her lips and exchanged a grin with Ron who was rolling his eyes but smiling tenderly at his best friend’s teary outburst. Harry removed one arm from Hermione and held it out to Ron, who stepped into their three way embrace.

‘Hermione’, he whispered planting another kiss on her head, ‘You are here and you are safe. And so is Ron. The fact that you guys care and the fact that you guys are my best friends means the world to me.’ He playfully stuck his tongue at her, ‘I would be quite miffed to find my unexpected arrival had no effect on you at all.’ Hermione thwapped his shoulder in retaliation and giggled as she found herself buried in a bear hug between Harry and Ron.

She sighed contentedly and deeply inhaled Harry’s fragrance again. He was back and she would be damned to hell before she let him out of her sight ever again.

3. Meeting

A/N: Ok, here is the next chapter and I don’t think I will be putting up the fourth chapter until next Monday – hope you are all enjoying the story!

Thanks yet again for all the reviews, they are like chicken soup for a writer’s soul J

P.S…Erm, do I need to put a disclaimer….oh well, here goes: None of these characters are mine. They belong to JK Rowling. If I was, Harry and Hermione would have gotten their groove on already and seen the light!

P.P.S…I am kind of hooked on the idea of future fics that are one shot. As I said, they aren’t really spoilers for this story because we do know that Harry and Hermione will realise that they are just prolonging their agony by not succumbing to the obvious J.

Right then…enough said…take care, all and have fun!

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Countless fairies scattered pin-pricks of light all along the length of the enormous hall that had finally managed to bring itself to some semblance of order. For three hours Harry had been hugged, kissed, punched, wrestled and idolised to death. The last of course was thanks to what Hermione in a rare fit of immature display proudly proclaimed the start of The G.R.O.P.E – Gathering of the Reverent Order of Potter for Eternity.

Harry had barely escaped with the clothes on his back as all the gaping, drooling young girls – for Merlin’s sake, they were all of six to ten! – had descended upon him in one screaming and hefty swoop, complete with hyperventilating gasps and war cries worthy of a cowboys and Indians game. He actually had to be levitated out of their midst through the combined and concentrated efforts of a struggling Hermione, Luna and Ginny who were alternating between righteously frowning at the normally demure girls and firmly weeding the laughter from themselves at the desperate and harassed look on Harry’s countenance.

Ronald Bilius Weasley would not assist of course. Harry scowled darkly at him but he may as well have been cooing with a rattle in either hand for all the effect it had on Ron. The redhead had sat down at the head table in the hall, shoulders heaving with laughter as Harry had been plopped in his seat by Ginny’s wavering concentration amid various continuing bouts of laughter, missing Ron’s head by an inch.

‘So Harry,’ Ron winked, deliberately slapping him on the back with enough force to send his friend’s glasses wildly askew. ‘How’s the lavish and dedicated fangirl welcome?’ He then proceeded to clutch a hand to his heart and mimicked the girls now eating their meals quietly under Hermione’s stern hawkish eyes, ‘Oh my God! It’s Harry Potter!’ His high pitched squeal sent the table denizens into choked bouts of spluttering and titters.

Harry groaned knocking his head against the table, while waving a dismissive hand, just short of a rude gesture at Ron. ‘Sod off Ron. Very funny. I thought I was going to die out there.’ Then in a lower voice meant for their ears alone, ‘Some of them nearly got me in the dark places, mate!’

Ron snickered at Harry’s panicked expression. His friend glared back. ‘It’s not funny, Ron. Hurts if you get mauled there, you know.’

‘Well, that’s just great.’ Ron huffed. He scratched his temple thoughtfully and stuck his chin out in a pout. ‘Now, if only Tommy Riddle had known this precious widdle secwet of Potty-boo. All he had to do was shorten his height, squeal at you and you’d duck and run for cover like a rabbit.’

Harry glowered back but couldn’t help smiling at the bright twinkle in Ron’s eyes. He suddenly reached out and tightly hugged Ron, ‘I really missed you, mate.’ His throat closed with emotion. ‘You have no idea what a sight for sore eyes you are.’

Ron choked down a lump the size of a good sized golf ball threatening to close up his own throat and attempted to surreptitiously wipe his eyes. ‘You think you aren’t Harry?’ His voice was quiet, but firm and strong. ‘We’ve all missed you. Luna was quite distraught for a while and here I was, chuffed to bits thinking that I was numero uno in her life. But no, it was Harry this and Harry that, all the way.’

Harry sniggered into his pumpkin juice but let his eyes trail affectionately to where his honorary sister was now chatting to another redhead he had also become a brother to. He arched an eyebrow at Ron and playfully shoved him affecting a gruff, menacing voice, ‘You been taking care of my sister, Weasley? I told you I don’t want to see her crying ever, because of you.’

Ron shook his head, rolling his eyes but his smile was understanding. He squeezed Harry’s hand, ‘I promise you mate, I have been taking good care of her.’ He swivelled his head around at the sound of her laughter; she seemed to be giggling over a private joke with Ginny and Hermione who had just joined them with her own dinner after lecturing a couple of wayward students who still couldn’t peel their lovelorn eyes from The Boy Who Lived. ‘I don’t know what I would do without her.’, he said quietly. ‘I guess I regret never trying to get to know her better. I mean we lived close by all our lives and I just never bothered.’ He sighed, a shamefaced expression on his face, but a thankful grin playing on his lips.

When he looked up, Harry found himself at a loss for words. The sheer love radiating from Ron’s eyes and the depth of its sincerity rocked him to the core. He grinned back and then reached out to pinch Ron’s cheek, putting on his own puppy dog eyes for good measure, ‘Aww…would you look at that. My ickle Ronniekins is all grown up.’ He pretended to wipe tears from his eyes and both men burst into raucous laughter. His expression slowly became serious, his green eyes bright and piercing. ‘But I am glad its you mate. I couldn’t have picked anyone better myself.’

‘Well, well. What’s this entire racket about then?’

Ron reached up to clasp the hand gently squeezing his shoulder. ‘Oh nothing. Just the usual. I was telling Harry what a right git he was and he was agreeing wholeheartedly.’

‘Oh hush, Ron!’ reprimanded Luna with a shake of her head. She kissed his cheek to let him know he was joking and then reached over to stand by Harry. ‘Is there place in my brother’s lap for me?’

Harry smiled warmly at her and pushed back his chair. Luna promptly sat down and put an arm around his shoulders reaching out with her other to push Ron’s red curls away from his forehead. She tutted exasperatedly, ‘For heaven’s sake Ronald! I have been yelling at you to comb your hair countless times since morning. Why on earth don’t you ever listen to me?’

Ron meekly lowered his eyes to the floor at her righteous tirade but sneaked a look at Harry, who was smothering his giggles in Luna’s shoulder. He lifted his head long enough to bravely summon his courage and interrupt, ‘Harry has much more messier hair than mine and you never yell at him.’ He stuck out his lower lip in an injured pout and crossed his arms over his chest.

Luna exchanged a wry grin with Harry and then stroked Ron’s head again, albeit with a lot more love this time. ‘Ronald, I don’t tell Harry because it isn’t my place to tell him. Soon, the right woman will come along to tell him that.’ She ignored Harry’s indignant splutter and her smile became a teasing grin, ‘I love you and so I look out for you. Harry is my brother but bossing him on his hair and clothes isn’t my job.’ She emphasised her statement with a pointed jab at Harry’s chest. ‘Get yourself a woman soon, big brother.’

Harry groaned and stood up, relinquishing Luna into Ron’s lap instead. ‘I’m not here for more than two minutes and you start on about me and relationships.’ He waggled a finger at her comically, ‘If you didn’t look so happy with Ron, I’d be tempted to spoil the mood by fighting tooth and nail with you.’

Luna simply sighed, a dreamy look that was pure vintage Luna finding its way back onto her face. ‘You keep looking for love in all the most unlikely places, Harry. Sometimes its right under your nose but you have to make an effort to look more carefully.’

Ron rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. ‘Umm...yes, love, see I know that I took time to notice you but well I did do better late than never-…’

‘…and we finally did get together.’ She smiled at Ron and then shrugged her shoulders, looking from Ron to Harry. ‘You are both guys though. It’s ok. In fact, it’s practically expected that you be clueless for a very long time.’

Harry held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘You two sound so together and married ‘tis extremely scary.’ Ignoring the blush on Ron’s face and the dreamy smirk of Luna which told him she at least had already named two of their three children, he looked around the table. ‘Hermione!’ he called upon spotting his quarry.

Hermione looked up from her conversation with Professor McGonagall who had come over from Hogwarts to see Harry and partake in the festivities, and gestured with her hands as if to say what? He rolled his eyes and walked over to her and their former Professor and Head of House. While Minerva McGonagall was still very much a part of Hogwarts, she took over the duties of a retired Dumbledore (or so he was, for real this time, he passionately claimed) and Remus Lupin was the current head of the Gryffindor House, along with being conferred the dubious honour of the only long standing Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Nobody had been more excited than Harry. It thrilled and warmed his heart no end that a man with such a responsible and strong disposition was finally given the chance to really feel at home and be a part of the magical community.

‘Well, Potter.’ McGonagall huffed. ‘What have you to say for yourself? Up and leaving and nary an owl?’ She narrowed her eyes and looked at him speculatively. ‘You are going to be twenty soon enough but that’s not too big to spank. In fact’, she continued, ‘Molly Weasley was telling me the other day of a particular brush she tested on Gred and Forge.’

Harry meekly nodded daring to peek up at McGonagall from beneath his eyelashes. Internally he smacked himself. What was it about this lady that made him feel like a wet, gangly eleven year old? He sneaked a peek at Hermione and hmphed under his breath. Of course, she would be looking straight at their professor with all the confidence she had possessed when she had burst noisily into his and Ron’s compartment demanding that they help her search for a lost toad belonging to a boy they hadn’t even met.

‘Harry! Harry!’ Hermione was shaking his shoulder none too gently and he shot her a dark look to which she jerked her head towards the Professor. Apparently the venerable lady had asked him something and was tapping her feet expectantly, waiting for an answer. Harry lamented deplorably that he was involuntarily rocking on the balls of his feet and stuttering when he tried to reply intelligently, ‘Umm...yes, Professor. Sorry about that – I was just thinking-..’

‘Oh be still my beating heart!’ the lady interrupted dramatically placing a hand in a bid to calm the aforementioned organ. ‘Harry dear, are you alright? Well, I never! You thinking! Miss Granger, have you heard the like?’

Harry simply stared. He whipped around to the sound of Hermione’s muffled giggles which turned to full-blown chuckles as Professor McGonagall’s lips twitched and then curved into what was as close to a smile as she would ever wear. Torn between wanting to admire such a rarity and scowling at Hermione for laughing at him, he hmphed yet again and folded his arms.

Professor McGonagall laid a warm hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry Harry.’ Her tone became wistful. ‘I miss all my students. Hogwarts just isn’t the same anymore.’

Harry’s reply was subdued but clear. ‘I don’t think it ever can be, Professor. It’s seen too much for it to go remaining as it always as.’ Then he smiled, ‘But it doesn’t mean that cheerful memories are lost or that new ones can’t be created to counter any dark remnants.’

Professor McGonagall shook her head and grinned at Hermione, ‘You know, I attribute this sudden spurt of philosophical wisdom to you, Miss Granger. Even if Potter and Weasley never listened to me, I used to take a small degree of solace in the fact that they apparently hung on your every word.’

Hermione blushed brightly and gave Harry a teasing grin as he wrapped an arm impetuously around her in an affectionate hug. ‘Of course, it’s due to me.’ Her eyes flicked over to the green orbs shining back genially at her and a devilish smirk crossed her face. ‘Harry, maybe I should have a chat with the professor about some of our more interesting lessons which nearly always involved adventure and slight rule breaking…’ she broke off in peals of laughter.

Harry merely snorted, ‘Ah, but then you risk ruining your reputation of the model student. Professor,’ he began, ‘perhaps you and I could have tea one afternoon and I could tell you all the reasons Hermione should not have been given that Prefect’s badge, let alone made Head Girl.’ He smiled smugly at Hermione’s appalled expression which soon shot daggers at him.

‘Oh go on with the two of you.’ Professor McGonagall shooed, flapping her hands at them. Her eyes twinkled with a soft light that rarely if ever revealed itself, and Harry and Hermione nearly swallowed their tongues as she stepped forward and put her arms around Harry in a tight hug. He was completely taken by surprise but hugged her back as a sudden rush for emotion for his old professor overtook him. She pulled back and squeezed his hands in her own, ‘Its good to see you back, Potter’ Then turning to Hermione, ‘See that you keep him here this time, Miss Granger.’

She walked away winking at Harry who turned to Hermione, bewildered but absolutely certain that they had talked in that annoying feminine manner without words and most definitely about him.

Hermione was wiping the tears off her face. Seeing Harry’s concerned look, she shook her head, linked an arm companionably through his own and led him out of the hall.

Languid eyes and drawn out sighs stalked their every step and Harry noted with astonishment that quite a few girls were actually casting baleful glances at the woman having the esteemed honour of being on his arm. He rolled his eyes and quickened their pace; barely noticing that Hermione had begun to pant to keep up with him.

‘Harry, what on earth is wrong? What’s the sudden rush all about?’

Imagine if he were like this because he wanted to whisk you off alone and have his wicked, way with you all defenceless… She shivered at the thought, noticing the way he had firmly looped his arm around hers and at the sheer strength that his gait invoked…

Stop it, she groaned. He’s right next to you and you are fantasising…she blushed furiously at that thought.

You keep blushing like that and you may as well permanently become a tomato.

Stop, stop, stop!

‘Er, Hermione. We just did. Are you alright?’

Hermione flinched, wincing internally at how dreamy she must have come across as. Harry was staring at her quizzically.

Speak, Hermione, speak!

‘Hermione? Hermione!’ The woman in question blinked and then smiled nervously as Harry exaggeratedly flapped his hand in front of her face. She rolled her eyes and batted his hand away. ‘Yes, yes, Harry. I’m listening! Sorry about that.’

Harry shook his head and regarded her with an amused smirk. ‘Still the same old Hermione. Bet you were thinking about lesson plans and the latest books.’

For some reason, Hermione felt her blood boil at that seemingly innocuous remark and she pursed her lips tightly and resolutely stalked ahead. Harry stared at her form for a second and then ran to catch up.

‘Hey, hey! Hermione, come on, what’s wrong? What did I say?’ He grabbed her am forcing her to stop and turned her around to face him. When she still firmly kept her gaze trained on the ground, he placed two gentle fingers under her chin and made her look up at him.

‘Come on, now’, he coaxed in a soft voice. It turned into concern as her face even as it was looking up at him showed her eyes to be steadfastly closed with tears falling down her cheeks. He reached the hand under her chin to wipe the moisture away and Hermione’s lips parted on a shuddering breath, savouring this gentle caress.

‘Hermione,’ he continued in a soft voice. ‘Come on now, what’s wrong? What did I do?’ He drew her into a hug for the second time that day and stroked her hair absently. ‘Please don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong. What happened?’

Hermione was torn between staying nestled in the warm cocoon of his arms and alleviating his concern. Perhaps she had overreacted a tad but a part of her still felt deeply wounded. She pulled back and looked at him, gratified to an extent at his display of genuine concern and his affectionate gestures. If only he was in love with me. It was sheer torture and a barb to the heart to see the tapestry of care and compassion in his eyes but know that it was solely threaded with platonic fibres.

She sighed and pulled away, immediately feeling bereft and alone. All was quiet for a moment and she looked at him thoughtfully to find him looking right back at her, ‘Harry, am I really that boring and predictable to be around?’

In the still of the twilight atmosphere, there was a deafening silence. Harry blinked. He certainly hadn’t been expecting Hermione to ask a question like that. He wracked his brains worriedly. What in the world had he said to her to make her think that?

‘No’, he replied. He took her arm and led her slowly forward on their original path towards the lake. ‘Hermione, you aren’t boring at all. What made you suddenly think you were?’ He frowned as an idea occurred. ‘You and Ron have a blow-out?’

Hermione attempted to shove him away with a watery smile but he flashed her an unrepentant grin and she unwillingly found herself leaning into him and resting her head on his shoulders. So broad and nice. It was disgustingly cliché but she really did feel as if resting on his shoulders would make all her doubts melt away…

The shoulder in question disappeared as she felt her bottom abruptly connect with the ground. Harry had flopped them both without ceremony near the trunk of the Battering Banyan, the Marauder’s answer to its Hogwarts counterpart with the added advantage of having branches that stretched ten times as long and a trunk that lived on for a hundred years more. However it was considerably more discerning of friend and foe without the propensity to lynch anyone within a radius of a metre. She levelled an icy glare at those green eyes which glinted – yet again! For the love of Merlin, stop doing that, Harry! – and then took on a solemn darker shade of forest green as their owner returned to his interrogation. While Hermione was pleased that he was taking an interest in knowing more about what she had blurted, she wasn’t entirely happy that every single insecurity trampled and thundered rampantly across her mind at a random comment from him.

He raised an eyebrow questioningly at her.

She replied dismissively, ‘Nothing’s wrong Harry. It’s just that you and practically everybody else seems to think that I am only about books. Isn’t it possible for me to zone out about anything else at all? Has my reputation as a bookworm been so firmly cemented?’ She concluded with enough bitterness to make Harry have a shocked look on his face although it was momentary and disappeared to make way for one of thought.

‘Well?’ she challenged. ‘Isn’t that what you meant? Thinking only about books?’

4. Discussing

A/N: Erm, I guess I got my chapter 4 done earlier than I thought! I am working on two essays for university coursework as well, so I am a bit proud of myself for getting this in!

Ok, this is where I introduce the mystery ship…I don’t think I have seen it anywhere before and it comes at the very end…and it will be completely revealed next chapter…

Thanks again for reviewing – feedback is much appreciated. I anticipate that the story might not be longer than 10 chapters; the trouble is that there are quite a few directions the plot can take and I am trying to settle on the strongest one..

Will try to get chapter 5 out on the weekend.

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Why on earth was he staring at her like that? Hadn’t she just demanded an answer?

Even as her emotions ran rampant colliding blindingly and making her feel completely overwhelmed, she knew that she wasn’t being entirely fair. Harry hadn’t made his remark with any snide undertones, it simply contained an affectionate warmth and if anything, was teasing at its very worst.

But she couldn’t help it. His innocent observation had unleashed a sudden tidal wave that she was utterly being submerged by. The events of the day were catching up with her – all these months of waiting and wondering and imagining the very worst horrible scenarios, all involving Harry and running the gamut from hearing him declare his engagement to some unknown and incomparable bombshell of a witch, to being summoned by the Ministry to identify his body, to his abrupt arrival and her own horror at the fact that she was oh so close, to desperately revealing the deepest secret of her heart.

And now, it seemed like her very worst suspicions were confirmed….wasn’t she even a girl to him?

‘Hermione!’

Harry’s voice brought her out of her reverie and she squinted trying to make him out in the blanketing twilight. He was in front of her, wasn’t he? So why was he all fuzzy? And why was the ground suddenly moving up to meet her?

‘Oof!’

Harry caught Hermione just in time as she almost pitched forwards into the ground. Supporting her with his arms, he lowered them both to sit upright again and peered closely at her. Her face was pale and drawn, there were black circles under her eyes and her fingers were quivering. He grasped them firmly, and rubbed them to bring a little warmth. He was thankful that this was just a dizzy spell – she wasn’t completely unconscious, but was quite disoriented – but he was very concerned all the same. She had seemed fine earlier today, and what was all that about his comment? He had simply teased her, he honestly couldn’t see a Hermione that wasn’t fiercely passionate about her work…

Well, they would be discussing this soon enough. The object of his thoughts was giving off a soft moan of discomfort as she attempted to bring the world back on its orbit and straighten her vision. Harry helped her steady herself as she swayed for a bit yet again and waited while she composed herself.

Hermione, on the other hand, felt anything but composed. Had she really almost her head there for a moment? Drawing a deep breath and steadfastly ignoring the bright, little darts of light that still seemed to be merrily clouding her vision, she nodded, ‘I’m…I’m better now, Harry , thanks.

Harry was still gazing at her with concern. ‘What was that all about? Are you really alright? And you look so pale, have you been sleeping well?’

Before she could stop herself, the words flew out with a biting sting that was quite alien to Hermione’s normal demeanour, ‘Oh yes, I have. Considering that my every waking moment was spent wondering what had become of you and imagining the most terrible things possible, I had a smashing time of trying to force my mind to shut down!’

Harry’s eyes snapped to hers and she flinched at the way he seemed to recoil at her words. Internally she throttled herself. What was wrong with her? Why was she being so mean to him? For Heaven’s sake, he had promised to come back, kept his promise and here he was and instead of showing him the school and helping him integrate himself back into the wizarding world for his first ever attempt at a semblance of normal life, she was berating him and none too tactfully at that.

Harry’s voice was low and defeated and Hermione instantly hated herself for that, ‘I’m…I’m sorry Hermione, I didn’t mean to make you worry, you know that.’ He ran a hand thorough his hair in a combination of frustration and what she recognised as guilt and continued, ‘Look, I just had to get away alright? What with all the parties being thrown every which way, there wasn’t a pebble in the wizarding world that could shield me.’

He raised an eyebrow at her unladylike snort and grinned when she looked abashed. ‘Anyway, I could get no peace here at home, and I had to leave. I didn’t do it to escape from you or anyone, surely you know me better than that. And I didn’t sneak off, I did tell you, all of you in fact.’

Hermione sighed and then squeezed his arm, ‘Harry,’ she began, trying to keep a hold of her voice, ‘Its not that you went away that really gets to me, although I am a tad selfish for wishing you hadn’t gone. Its just that…that…I kept wondering what had happened to you, because there was no word, not even a little snippet of information. Merlin, Harry you can’t blame me for that!,’ Her voice rose and Harry closed his eyes against the emotion in her tone. He opened them to see she was looking at him intently and felt his heart break at the tears streaming down her face, ‘Do you have any idea how I’ve been these past months? Everyday I kept expecting an owl from someone telling me that they had found a green eyed man lying dead by the side of the road!’ She broke off on a choked sob and pressed her lips together.

Harry said nothing, but silently stared ahead at the lake, letting her pull herself together. He did reach out to firmly hold her hand and listened intently as she went on, ‘Its like I said earlier, Harry. I know I might be a nag and oh, I know very well, that I am doing the same thing now, but I can’t help it, Harry! I have been worrying about you for eight years and I’m sorry but I can’t just stop!’ She ended on a defiant note and with a stubborn up tilt of her chin that made Harry give a gentle chuckle.

‘Oh Hermione, never apologise for that. I am truly touched and flattered that you care for me so much. I am very grateful for you and Ron. If I didn’t have friends like you, God knows where I’d be right now.’

Hermione seriously contemplated a jump into the lake. Upon realising her feelings for Harry, she had struggled with the loathing for the word ‘friends’ that always enveloped her whenever anyone was kind enough to point out the status of her relationship with Harry.

Of course, friends. The best of friends. Like a sister and brother.

It was all Hermione could do not to fling herself at Harry and blab all that her heart held at that second. But she knew what would happen. Harry would most likely feel guilty for not returning her feelings and things would become awkward. The last thing he needed at this moment was another guilt complex, and besides, if he didn’t even see her that way, was there any point in suddenly blurting out how she felt?

‘…-and so that’s why I said that, you know.’ Harry’s voice floated through her thoughts and she scrambled to catch up.

‘Oh, what? I’m sorry Harry, what did you say?’

Harry rolled his eyes. ‘I was giving an answer to your earlier question. About you being all books and lesson plans.’ He had a wicked glint in his eyes that made Hermione waver between jumping on him and strangling him.

‘Yes?’ She queried with interest and straightening, not realising that she resembled a bird fluffing up its feathers for battle.

Harry laughed at the mental imagery and replied softly, ‘All I meant was that the books make you…you, Hermione. Yes, its true that you are bookish,’ – he ignored her outraged gasp – ‘and yes its true that you can be predictably found in the Library’ – her face was becoming dangerously purple – ‘and yes, its also true that you are a bit of a worrywart’ – an indignant splutter – ‘and you….oh, did you know your face is purple, Hermione…and yes you are all this but most of all, that’s what makes you so special. That’s’ what makes you Hermione.’

The purple vanished to be replaced by a deep red as Harry’s green eyes bored steadily into her own brown ones. She listened as if in a trance as his dulcet timbre continued to wind itself through the air around her. ‘Hermione, there’s nothing boring about you. So you are a tad more academically inclined, but that doesn’t make you predictable or staid or in a rut. I only meant that as a tease. Its like me, whenever anyone sees me, they always tend to ask if I am being broody, just because sometimes I am quiet, not to mention that whenever I am missing, its always assumed that I am on the Quidditch pitch.’

‘Yes but the Quidditch pitch is attractive to girls and not the Library.’

The words waltzed past gaily before she could stop herself and she clapped a shocked hand to her mouth. Why, oh why was she being so incredibly stupid? She sounded like a petulant thirteen year old! Didn’t she fight in the war with Death Eaters? Hadn’t she made the Polyjuice Potion at twelve? Hadn’t she deployed the Protean charm at fifteen? Then why didn’t that brain shut her mouth now when she needed it the most?

Harry raised an eyebrow, ‘Erm, so you…umm…like girls then, do you?’ His expression was an ingenious hybrid of curiosity, fascination and utter incredulity.

Hermione gave an exasperated huff, ‘Honestly, Harry! You...it’s just…men don’t and they can’t…like girls like me….so boring…who have books…’

Harry placed a finger on her lips and gave a devilish smirk which only made the remaining bit of rationality in her head whimper in surrender and flee. He cocked his head to the side and considered her profile appraisingly.

‘So that’s what this has been all about then?’ There was a triumphant ring to his voice and it made Hermione feel dreadfully vulnerable, considering she hadn’t even told him anything that mattered…yet.

‘Hermione, are you still under the impression that no one knows you are a girl?’ His voice held disbelief and Hermione bristled defensively. She wrenched her hand out of his grasp and sniffed as she turned away. Harry only sighed and placing a firm hand on her arm yet again, swivelled her back to face him. ‘Listen to me. Everyone knows you are a girl and that you are pretty to look at. Come on, we aren’t in fourth year anymore.’

Hermione gave a bitter laugh. ‘Yes, and that’s why I didn’t have luck with boys in Hogwarts, other than with Ron…who liked me because we could put up with each other.’

Harry rolled his eyes, ‘And what about Krum? May I remind you that he was three years older than you – he could have picked any girl in his own year or school, for that matter, and yet he homed in on a fourth year from a competing school.’

Hermione blushed at the teasing in Harry’s voice and kept silent. She had to admit, she couldn’t argue that. ‘But it didn’t last!’

‘Did you want it to go beyond a dance, then? If I recall, you were glad that you stopped at being just good friends.’

Hermione’s shoulders slumped and she nodded wearily, ‘You’re right on that, of course. We had different priorities and focuses in life. And then of course there was the war…and the other things that happened at home…’

Harry reached out to give her a hug as her face crumpled, remembering the awful saga that had plagued her home throughout her seventh year, and she had to force herself not to purr. Hmmm….no wonder Crookshanks begged to be petted and scratched so often…

He pulled back and again gave her a kiss on her hairline much like the one earlier in the day and tapped the side of her nose, ‘you silly goose, you are a great witch and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. And you’ll find the right wizard out there.’

As Hermione tried her hardest to ignore the bittersweet pain his words caused, Harry added as an afterthought, ‘Of course, he’ll be thoroughly screened by Ron and me, before he can put on the moves.’ He tried to say the last phrase in the suave and affected tone of a casanova but it only served to make Hermione break out in peals of laughter. She shoved him playfully, ‘So you and Ron are going to assess his suitability?’

Harry returned her shove good naturedly and followed it up with a tug at her still bushy curls. ‘Of course, we have already decided, no one but the best for our dearest Hermione.’

Hermione suddenly hugged him fiercely and pulled back to reach up and press her lips gently on his scar. This was a private sign of affection between them that had come about in seventh year. In yet another of his well intentioned but spectacularly misguided motions to shield his friends from Voldemort by distancing himself, Harry had finally broken down completely and yelled at them. He had gone on hoarsely for hours, alternately veering between begging and hexing them and had finally collapsed, exhausted, his body aching, his mind drained and his heart overflowing with regret at the numerous cruel utterances that he had shot with the utmost deliberation and calculation at them.

Ron and Hermione hadn’t said anything for a few minutes, and then Hermione walked forward until she was beside Harry. She knelt by his slumped form, and brushed the lacklustre locks away from his forehead. The scar pulsed, a simultaneous legacy of love bequeathed by his mother and a terrifying conduit to the dark and she leaned down slowly. Harry had stared at her with wide and unblinking eyes, closing them in a soft, resigned groan when he felt her lips directly nudge against his scar and then seemingly envelop them. Out of the corner of his vision, he registered Ron, also coming to stand near by and then kneeling by him. Hardly had Hermione pulled away, when Ron – accused infamously having the emotional range of a teaspoon – had reached out and for the first time in their seven year friendship, pulled Harry in for a bone-crushing hug.

It was on that day that Harry had finally accepted that nothing he could do or say would ever force Ron and Hermione from his side and their little circle had expanded to welcome Neville, Luna and Ginny from then on.

Now, as Hermione drew back, he smiled brightly at her and her heart soared. Oh Harry, I don’t need anyone else but you… ‘Please promise me that you’ll smile more often, Harry.’ She requested softly.

Harry jumped up and then pulled her upright as well giving her a fake bow, ‘Your wish is my command.’ And then promptly stretched his face in an ear-splitting grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes and again linked her arm with his they set off back towards the castle, simply enjoying feeling Harry next to her again. He turned to wink at her as she attempted to surreptitiously hug his arm even tighter.

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

They were met by a very excited Ginny, who was on the verge of collapsing from sheer breathlessness, as they stepped back into the Hall. Harry noted with a fervent sigh of thankfulness that the kids had all been sent off to bed and took the opportunity to really soak in the atmosphere of the Marauders for the first time since he had come back.

He had to admit, leaving his school in his best friends’ capable hands had been the smartest decision he had made so far in his twenty year old life.

While the Marauders was certainly not as large as Hogwarts, it was just as infused with strong ancient magic and a charismatic charm transcending time. It was after all, one of the oldest buildings in the wizarding world and a prized heirloom in the Potter family. Harry had learned of its existence upon turning sixteen when a second round of family wealth had made itself known to him through Gringotts and it was only then that he truly comprehended the affluence of his bloodline. The Potters were as old, established and respected as the Malfoys with the only exception that they had always fiercely upheld the Light side and Harry had never been more proud of his heritage than the day when he had received a book about his family tree with a carefully preserved tapestry tucked in a pouch between its sheaves. He had noted with a strong pang of sorrow that the last names sown into it were James and Lily Potter.

And there’s plenty of time to think about settling down, he observed as his eyes took in the furnishings of the hall as well as the various little touches that differentiated it from Hogwarts. He finally realised that the Marauders felt more informal and like a home, and felt a surge of pride in his friends at their success in converting a cold, forbidding and lonely stone antiquity into a house of learning where love, warmth and the innocent squeals of children seemed to pervade the very stones.

He suddenly caught sight of Ginny and Hermione chattering excitedly and walked over to them. Ginny shrieked on seeing him and then grabbed his arm, shaking it about enthusiastically, ‘Oh Harry! Where were you? Remus just flooed in, he’s waiting in Hermione’s office and he wants to see you so badly.’

A large grin lit up Harry’s face and Hermione smiled indulgently – he looked nearly ten years younger in an instant. Harry’s close friends knew just how much Remus meant to him – he had been her friend’s rock throughout his sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts taking on the role of surrogate parents, godfather and older brother all in one. Although she knew that Harry did think of the Weasley boys as his own family, he still possessively cherished his own link to Remus. He looked up to their former professor for advice, comfort, and a kick in the behind from time to time.

She laughed; Harry’s excitement was so very contagious. ‘My office you say, Ginny? But how did he get in? The only people allowed to properly floo into my office are you, Luna, and…oh’ Her voice trailed off as a thoughtful frown creased her eyebrows.

Harry who was looking back and forth between the two, grumbled, ‘What’s going on? Is there a problem? Is Remus not supposed to floo in there?’

Hermione hastened to reassure him, ‘No, no, Harry. Come on, lets go I’ll tell you on the way. Thanks for the heads up, Ginny.’

Ginny caught Harry in a warm hug and kissed him lightly on the cheek, ‘We need to catch up and I need to know about all the sordid things you’ve been up to in the last five months.’

Harry grinned, ‘Sure thing. I just need a little time to settle in over the next few days but we’ll definitely go for a few butterbeers soon enough. How’s Neville treating you?’

Ginny rolled her eyes, ‘I’m going to ask him to marry me, I think.’

Harry’s jaw dropped and Hermione blinked. She spoke hesitatingly, ‘Could you repeat that, please?’

‘I’m going to ask him to marry me!’ she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘Honestly, for the past two months, he’s been trying to ask me the same thing and every time he chickens out at the last minute. And for crying out loud, he actually brings the box out and then quickly shoves it away, thinking I haven’t seen it! Its happened about three times now and that’s a time too many!’ She finished looking quite angry and a shade of red only a bit lighter than her hair was spreading itself across her face.

‘Come on Ginny, you know Neville loves you. He’s always been shy with girls and this is a very big decision. Besides, he has his own insecurities…’

‘I know, Hermione, I know.’ Ginny sighed and then smirked, ‘According to a muggle tradition, a woman can propose in a leap year, cant she? And this is one, so…’ she trailed off, a smug look replacing the anger.

Hermione laughed and shook her head, ‘A very unique idea, Gin. Oh, by the way how are Charlie and Tonks?’

Ginny walked with them until the corridor to Hermione’s office, ‘Oh they’re fine. The moving back is taking some time though and the..’

‘Hold on a minute,’ Harry interrupted, ‘Charlie and Tonks are moving back here?’ At Ginny’s nod, he laughed, ‘Bet your mum will be right chuffed! She was so disappointed that Bill wanted to persist in staying on at Gringotts in Egypt.’

Ginny laughed as well, ‘Oh yes. And they’ll be here by the end of the week for the dinner at the Burrow. They cant wait to meet you, Harry.’ She shook her head at his pink cheeks and then ruffled his hair, ‘Nymphadora still thinks you have a cute backside.’ And both she and Hermione went into gales of chuckles.

Harry stared at both of them, an unwilling smile on his face, ‘I should never have let her see that Witch Weekly article about me. Rating men on their backsides? Don’t people have better things to do?’

Hermione took his arm and led him towards her office. She called back to Ginny, ‘We can never answer that no matter how blue in the face we get. You take care, Gin and keep in touch!’

Ginny waved back and they saw a flash of red disappear down the corridor.

‘Hermione? What’s all this about the floo and Remus?’

‘Oh Harry, its just that since there are children here, the rule of thumb is to ensure that only three people have access to one’s floo outlet. But each coming in can bring in someone else if they are told the passwords – something Ron and Neville came up just to increase more security, considering the amount of young children here…’

‘A floo network with a password?! Wow! Who would have thought it?’

Hermione had by now undone the network of charms on her door and nodded, ‘Yes that was a really novel but much needed idea. And Remus doesn’t have the password, so one of my three contacts would have bought him in.’

By this time, she had opened the door and they stepped inside. ‘But Hermione,’ Harry was saying, ‘one of them was Ginny and I bet another would be Luna..’

Hermione nodded again.

‘So who would the third…’ He trailed off as he caught sight of another person standing next to Remus Lupin. Hermione had a large grin on her face and he shoved her playfully, ‘I should have known who it would be…’

5. 'Ship' Notes

Hi all,

This isn’t a new chapter (which I am working on of course!), but just a quick note to say that Tonks/Charlie is NOT the mystery ship.

I have received a few messages/emails asking if that is the case, and hence my response here: the mystery ship is Remus/? – and this will be revealed next chapter. As I said, I haven’t seen this ship anywhere – please correct me later on, if I am mistaken on that.

The reason I put Tonks/Charlie together is because I cannot accept a ship that puts students with professors, or uncles with nieces or any other humungous age difference issues that would simply beggar belief. Hence none of my stories (if I ever getting around to doing them all!) will contain Remus/Tonks, or the kids (H,Hr, R etc) with any professors or much older people. Besides, I sincerely think that Tonks and Charlie would make an excellent pair, I can just see her tripping all around the dragons..haha… – any one knows of any fan fictions featuring them, please do let me know!

Right, having clarified this – many thanks again for your comments and with respect to them, yes, I do like to pay attention to detail simply because I feel one of the jobs of reading is to allow yourself to be transported into the world that the writer has created. For me, the hallmark of a good author is when I can picture in my mind as I read along and this is precisely what I am trying *very hard* to achieve!

Some of you also mentioned the H/Hr interaction – thank you for your praise, I am very touched because I was deliberately trying to keep away from an overdose of what seems to me, mostly unnecessary angst and drama concerning them. First off all, they have been very firm friends for seven years and having faced a ‘murderous raving lunatic’ in Ron Weasley’s words, I would think that you would be able to still talk to such friends despite whatever romantic feelings may still be there. There might be some slight angst but I am trying to very hard to add it only if needed.

Ok then, that’s my epic long author’s note ! Take care all and thanks for the reviews – do keep them coming!

6. Preparing

A/N: Right then, here’s chapter 5 with the ship revealed…although the shipping as such, isn’t underway, if that makes any sense…*ahem*

Congratulations to Tennant Stuart who gave me quite a pleasant surprise by hitting the nail on the head about this ship. Also, a big thank you to all those who emailed me about Tonks/Charlie…I need to dash over and read those stories…haha

I am working on a one-shot set way ahead in the future, and hopefully chapter 6 will be out in a few days…thank you very much for reviewing, it’s truly motivating!

*********

Hermione laughed as she turned towards the fireplace and flew into her mother’s arms.

‘Oh, it’s so good to see you!’

Jane Granger pulled back from the warm embrace and kissed her daughter’s cheeks tenderly, smoothing a hand over the bushy locks that had not changed a whit since she had brought their owner into the world nearly twenty years ago. She caught sight of a grinning Harry over Hermione’s shoulder and rolled her eyes, playfully swatting at her daughter, ‘No wonder you look happy today, he’s finally come back.’ Then extending an arm out to Harry, ‘I know that you won’t let go of Remus for a while, so how about giving me my hug first?’

Harry’s heart leaped into his throat as he wrapped his arms tightly around Mrs Granger. For all that Mrs Weasley had been like a surrogate mother, in a way he was closer to Jane Granger than any other maternal figure. A large part of it stemmed from the fact that she was the first concrete example of good natured muggle acceptance of magic. While he had always spent his summers at the Burrow or from fifth year onwards in some secret location with Ron and Hermione, his summer before the seventh had included a brief week long sojourn with the Grangers. There, he had come to understand and accept that the Dursleys were the exception rather than the rule and seen first hand the support that Hermione had been given when the tide of her life had changed when an owl had swooped into her life with a memorable letter for the very first time.

Or at least, how her mother had always supported her…

Harry had never been close to Hermione’s parents – at least not long enough for him to arrive at any sort of conclusive judgement about them. But he had been distinctly aware of a thin veil of frostiness from Mr Granger that seemed to meander its way through the very minute of cracks in their home. At first, he had simply attributed it to the fact that he, a sixteen and now nearly seventeen year old boy had come to actually share living quarters with a female best friend who clearly was still her father’s little girl.

He found out in the most terrible of ways that he couldn’t possibly have been further from the truth.

In all their years of friendship, Hermione had never given off the impression that her familial environment was anything other than stable. The regularity with which she visited home, corresponded with her parents and kept them up to date frankly of increasingly dangerous events in the wizarding world, had always made Harry more than a little envious of their strong bond as well as the luxury of being able to openly discuss all things magical at home; thus he had been as surprised as Hermione to see an extremely agitated Minerva McGonagall bear down on them during a routine breakfast.

Even more unexpected was her brusque command for Harry and Ron to follow, even though the message was a direct communication from Dumbledore to Hermione, who had instantly gone pale and ghostly white. Harry and Ron had kept a firm hold of her and literally half pulled, half dragged their best friend who was now on the verge of a minor hysterical outburst, given that their Head of House had adamantly refused to answer her pointed requests for information.

Dumbledore’s office was not a place that Harry had ever wished to be in more than necessary, especially after what he regarded as the Headmaster’s unforgivable duplicity towards himself, but now he looked on, as did Ron, in a mixture of worry and fascination as the old wizard slowly kneeled down by the armchair that Hermione had been deposited in, and proceeded to gently explain the contents of the letter in depth, all the while clasping her limp hand in a gesture of reassurance.

Harry and Ron had not even been aware initially of what had transpired in that conversation but one look at Hermione’s face, which wore such a terrible expression of despair, hopelessness and fear was enough to galvanise them into pulling her into a tight embrace between their persons. She was trembling violently, her lips quivering, and they noticed with consternation that her fingers were turning blue. Dumbledore had promptly dispatched them to Madame Pomfrey and her hospital wing for an instant dose of calming draught and as they both sat beside their best friend, each holding her hand, he had unfolded the web of events that had brought Hermione to this state.

There was one thing Harry Potter had thought he would never ever in all his entirety of existence, on the planet, want. As he listened in growing horror, it was the first time that he was sincerely grateful for the fact that at the very least, his parents had loved each other until their final breath - enough to unthinkingly give their lives up for each other and the child conceived of that fierce love - and had prevailed upon being united in death as well.

Was it really possible that a man would do such a thing? Thoughtlessly wreck his marriage of nearly eighteen years? Destroy his family so heedlessly?

But apparently he could and in Mr Granger’s case, rather spectacularly as well. Without a need to delve into the sordid details, Harry and Ron had gathered enough to know that trouble had been brewing over the last three years, approximately around the time of their fifth year’s commencement. Mr Granger had suddenly been inexplicably seized with a desire for professional ambition prompting a proposal to move the family to the United States. While the boys were at once appalled at the abhorrent notion that Hermione may never even have returned for the fifth year, they were extremely thankful that she herself had never come to know of this – Jane Granger had flatly opposed the move and hadn’t breathed a word of it to her daughter. Hermione’s stability was to be their number one priority, she had argued, and she wasn’t about to see her moved, especially when the highly insecure and subsequently ridiculed and antisocial child had grown into a happy and confident teenager at Hogwarts, with the added and much needed blessing of two best friends that she had implicitly grown to trust and care for.

That hadn’t been enough for Mr Granger, however, and the barrage of thoughts had continued to viciously poison his mind until he began to question the very feasibility of Hermione even continuing on as a witch.

Up until here, his desire for professional advancement although at debilitating odds with his family’s happiness, could have still been somehow excusable. His challenging of Hermione’s status as a witch could have somehow been attributed to the insecurities of a parent worried of losing a child to an altogether more exciting world.

But his treatment of Mrs Granger could never be forgiven.

Even a few years on, Harry knew that the scars would never completely fade away. How could you forget that a person to whom you entrusted your soul would turn so viciously back on you and threaten your very existence? That the man you had promised yourself to, heart and soul, till death do you part, would lower himself to the level of incessantly seeking extra-marital companionship while ignoring any and all attempts from his wife to engage in a meaningful conversation that may yet have saved their marriage…

As Harry stood now with his arms around Mrs Granger’s smaller form, he yet again felt anew the admiration for her sheer strength, willpower and love for her daughter that had enabled her to endure three years of her husband’s open infidelity. To compound the situation, Hermione’s magical orientation was revealed in a fit of revenge by her father to all members of their family, effectively distancing Hermione and anyone who supported her to a somewhat arm’s length and acquaintance level interaction. Within the blink of an eye, Jane Granger found herself inextricably ostracised and subsequently she and ‘her witch daughter’ had become like strangers to their own relatives. Hermione had never particularly discussed her extended family in any way but to be so openly reviled was something she had never foreseen either.

The crux of the letter centred on the fact that Jane Granger had been whisked to a muggle hospital for treatment of extreme shock. Marital unfaithfulness in itself was a horrendous blow to her sanity but to wake up one morning to a husband who had flown the coop abandoning his family and leaving them penniless was utterly incomprehensible, especially given that there was a twenty five year old friendship of which eighteen were spent in marriage, between them.

Harry could only be grateful that the shock hadn’t completely killed her. It had certainly achieved that with near perfect success as far as Hermione was concerned. Both he and Ron had decided to accompany her to visit her mother and Hermione’s grief at the time had been absolutely devastating to live through. Yet, she was a rock for her mother and both boys had never been more proud of their best friend than during those few months. Her own anguish at her father’s doings was forcibly locked away in the deepest recesses of her mind as she battled to save her mother and then struggled to set them both to start anew and get a semblance of life back on track.

It also became a passport for Jane Granger’s honorary induction of sorts into the magical world. She wasn’t remotely magical although she had always unconditionally believed in her daughter’s abilities. With her husband having abandoned her, and their extended family wanting nothing more to do with a witch and her mother, it was her daughter’s world that became her salvation. While she could pay out of her own finances for Hermione’s education, the very logistics of the entire situation would have been rendered absolutely unbearable had it not been for the constant stream of goodwill from the Weasleys, Harry, and the Hogwarts faculty.

Seventh year was famed enough for the NEWTS but Harry doubted if Hermione had even vaguely registered their impending exams with all that had been going on. Seeing that his friend was running herself into an early grave between her somewhat comatose mother, and trying to cope with the ramifications of events on both a pragmatic and an emotional level, Harry had suggested to Dumbledore that Mrs Granger be moved to Grimmauld Place. There was nothing more the hospital could do, what was required now was a healthy dose of care, compassion and support and at the aforesaid venue, she would never be alone and someone could be stationed to stay with her. Most importantly, Hermione could also floo to see her mother at least two or three times a week, which would greatly aid in the latter’s recovery.

Yet, the question remained: who was to be a conduit between Hermione and her mother? Mrs Weasley was one of the first choices, but was soon dismissed as the lady had rather a large family of her own to cater to. Besides, she wasn’t particularly skilled at any sort of defence against dark magic, and by moving Hermione’s mother to Grimmauld Place, an open flaunting of the divide between muggle and magical would further exacerbate the threat that Harry knew Hermione and Mrs Granger were already under, given the restlessness and unrest about Voldemort nearly having reached a crescendo at the time.

Ergo, a minder was needed who was skilled at defense. However, he or she had to be someone that both Hermione and her mother could trust implicitly. The Hogwarts faculty were out of the running, as they had significant responsibilities at the school and Order members who were registered Aurors such as Kingsley Shacklebolt or Tonks would have been hard pressed to justify why they were guarding a lone muggle woman in a magical house when their services were increasingly called upon every second to aid in the assistance of wizarding communities, decimated under a dark forces assault.

It had been at Hermione’s own suggestion, that Remus John Lupin be appointed for this task.

No one had been more surprised than Remus himself at Hermione’s suggestion. Looking back now, Harry did not know how he and Ron had valiantly restrained themselves from sniggering wildly at the rainbow of expressions that had whizzed dizzily across his new godfather’s face in a span of seconds. Remus had gone from amazement to disbelief to incredulity as he vehemently protested each and every bit of Hermione’s arguments for his recruitment as her mother’s guard.

Few people who had witnessed it would ever forget that occasion. Hermione and Remus both characterised by holding logic and stability as their guiding lights, had been perfectly matched as each came up with various protests and counter protests to defend their position. Upon Remus’s objections that her mother might not be comfortable given recent events, seeing as he was a man and a werewolf to top it all, Hermione had given the man a near heart attack by calmly mentioning that her mother was already aware of the latter.

Over the years, her parents had come to meet various Hogwarts faculty members and after third year, Hermione had spoken so consistently in praise of Lupin that the first meeting between him and her parents had been spent with him in extreme discomfiture. It was a sad occasion given that it was a reading of Sirius’s will, with his funeral carried out just minutes before in an attempt to give the deceased a respectable and heartfelt departure from the worldly, but Harry and Ron overhearing the conversation were truly amused at the sheer capacity that Remus Lupin displayed for succumbing to the brightest of blushes, all throughout his conversation with her parents, with Hermione eagerly extolling his academic virtues at every opportunity.

Hermione and Remus had argued long and hard but she had finally caught him when she pleaded tearfully, ‘I trust you the most of all, Professor. My mother knows you and besides, we both don’t mind that you are a werewolf. Dumbledore has given me, Harry and Ron permission to stay at Grimmauld during your transformations or perhaps someone else will replace you just for that period or so. But please, don’t say no, Professor, you can’t turn me away like this.’

Remus was wavering between agony at wanting to acquiesce to his student’s wishes and anguish at the insecurity about his own animalistic persona when Hermione had driven her point home, ‘I trusted you during third year as well, Professor Lupin, and you didn’t fail me then. I already knew you were a werewolf, but that didn’t make any difference to me…wont you please help me now, when I need you the most?’

And Harry knew that Remus wouldn’t, indeed couldn’t, possibly have said no to such an impassioned plea, coming as it did from a student whom the last remaining Marauder had an extremely soft spot for, first brought about by her silent and unconditional acceptance of his dual persona, all those months ago.

And thus, it was decided. Remus would stand guard at Grimmauld while Hermione’s mother recovered. His innate sensitivity to hurt and his gentle but firm sense of compassion and empathy were of great assistance to both the mother and the daughter as they struggled to put their life back together in the long months that followed.

Now, after all this time, Hermione’s mother had set up her own dental practice yet again, but moved it to Central London so that she could be in proximity to the Leaky Cauldron and the magical world while being comfortable with the muggle environment around herself. Hermione visited her mother often, as did both Harry and Ron who had also found to their great delight that having a friend who lived in London’s West End was no small source of convenience when it came to exploring the delights of the city.

Remus and her mother had developed a steady friendship that was predicated upon mutual respect and gratitude. She was grateful for his assistance to herself and her daughter and he had, in the first time for many years since Lily Potter, come across a woman who had looked beyond the beast and ventured to connect with the man within. The fact they were also similarly matched in age and intellect was a further advantage, and Hermione was glad that her mother had made a firm friend in the wizarding world.

However now, as she saw her mother releasing Harry with a loving kiss on the cheek, and turning to relinquish him to Remus, Hermione could not help noticing the subtle exchange of the tiniest of glances that passed between them.

While it did not make her entirely upset, she was more than a trifle uneasy.

Was it -? Could it be possible - ? But no, there had been nothing to even remotely suggest that anything was developing and even if there were, how was she to feel about it? How was she to - ?

‘Hermione! We’ve been calling you for minutes now, where were you?’

She met the concerned gazes of Harry, Remus and her mother and forced herself to smile brightly. Remus and Harry were simply gazing, nothing covert underlying their expressions but she flinched slightly as she met her mother’s eyes, they held a sliver of knowledge that she wasn’t quite sure she wanted revealed as of yet.

Giving herself a shake, she walked over and gave Remus a quick hug, leading the way out of her office and towards the kitchens where they would still be able to get a bite. While not as huge as the Hogwarts kitchens, some traditions were simply too heartfelt to let go off and so Hermione had made sure that the entry to this kitchen too was through the tickling of a pear who was perched precariously in then hand of a small girl, rather than in a limp bowl of fruit. There were house elves here as well and all were new but two who had left Hogwarts and transferred to the Marauders upon hearing that it was henceforth to be Harry Potter’s new domain. Hermione shook her head in exasperation as Dobby and Winky insisted on laying out a veritable feast, when all they wanted was a light snack.

‘So Harry,’ Mrs Granger was saying, as she speared a bit of mashed potato on her fork and liberally soaked it into the gravy that was on her plate with relish, ‘How does it feel to be back?’

Harry grinned, ‘Its been fantastic so far and I can’t wait for tomorrow – Hermione is going to give me the grand tour…although what little I have seen looks fabulous, I’m sure there are some more secrets up her sleeve that she hasn’t revealed to me as yet.’ He gave her a friendly poke in the ribs, knowing that she was ticklish.

Hermione squealed as she jumped and dropped her spoon, ‘Harry! Stop doing that, it tickles.’ Then she bit her lip and smiled nervously, ‘I…I hope you aren’t angry, tomorrow. I mean, there have been some changes, but I only brought them after a lot of deliberation and after consulting everyone else, and…’

‘And very good changes, they were too,’ interrupted Remus, smoothly, contriving to polish off his plate in record time as well. Apparently Harry’s abrupt arrival had stressed them all out so much, that their appetites were beginning to catch up only now.

Harry registered a twinge of mingled guilt and thankfulness for the presence of people in his life who cared deeply about him, but also knew that there was no way he could not have left. The parties and other occasions all in the name of the great Boy Who Lived who had now gone on to become The Boy Who Saved The Wizarding World, was reaching atrocious levels of pompousness and Harry had snapped when he had come across a store in Diagon Alley glorifying his life as akin to that of some masked avenger for a child’s bedtime story. No, he had to go away to regain his sanity and gain a fresh sense of perspective, and it was a relief to come back to a quieter setting, no parties, no balls, no proposals, no propositions, no-

‘-And Harry, there is a party this Friday at Hogwarts, given by the Ministry, so please do come in good time.’

WHAT?

Harry turned terrified eyes on Remus, gaping at him in horror, hadn’t he gone away to avoid all this nonsense in the first place?

Remus shrugged and returned to chasing the grape from his fruit salad, which was stubbornly refusing to climb onto his spoon, ‘Don’t look at me like that, Harry. I had absolutely nothing to do with it. In fact, I was told of it by Mineva only seconds before haring over here. She’s warned you to show up, or else.’

And on this ominous note, unseen by Harry who was still trying to close his mouth, he turned and exchanged sly winks with Hermione. She leaned over and sympathetically squeezed his arm. He turned eyes luminous with despair on her and half growled, half pleaded, ‘I’m not going! Oh no, I’m not going at all! This is ridiculous – and hold on, how in the world did the Ministry know I’ve come back anyway?’

Hermione rolled her eyes, ‘It’s the wizarding world, Harry. News travels as the owl flies,’ her eyes were twinkling merrily although she desperately contrived to maintain a suitably injured face for the sake of her best friend who was looking for all the world, like a petulant boy, with his brow furrowed, arms crossed across his chest, shoulders hunched and a pout making his lower lip jut out in the most adorable manner ever.

However she restrained herself from leaping on him, even as her mother reached over and teasingly pinched his cheek, ‘oh come on, the wizarding world wants to welcome its hero back. You have to admit the whole setting has a rather sexy appeal to it.’

Remus snorted, Hermione broke out in laughter and Harry glared affronted, ‘Excuse me?’

Mrs Granger got up to deposit her plate in the sink only to be intercepted by an appalled house elf and good naturedly winked, ‘Look at it from the perspective of my gender. Here you are, the strong hero, withdrawn from the world, when suddenly you return and looking none the worse for wear, if I do say so myself.’

Harry felt himself blushing and smiled in spite of himself, ‘I cannot believe I am hearing this…’

‘Look, just come for at least an hour or so, alright Harry?’ requested Remus. ‘I’m sure a lot of your friends will be there who’ll want to see you as well…come to the party, for them at least.’

‘He’s right, Harry. Other than us, the rest of the DA don’t know you are back. They’ll be thrilled. Just ignore the ministry and spend time with them and it’ll be like a reunion; you’ll definitely enjoy it’ affirmed Hermione.

Harry sighed and nodded, ‘Fine, alright. Friday, you say? I’ll be there.’ He brightened up considerably as a thought came to mind, ‘It’s going to be in Hogwarts? It’ll be good to go back and see the school too.’

They laughed, happy to see that his mood had lifted and as they trooped off back to Hermione’s quarters, from where Jane Granger would go back to the Leaky Cauldron and Remus to Hogwarts, the latter pulled Harry aside, ‘Do you think we can talk for a few minutes, Harry? Alone?’