Number One Girl by 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.’




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!

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

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.*

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

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?’