Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Only the wacky things I put them through.

A/N: Sorry I haven't answered everyone's reviews yet. I spent several hours answering about half of them on Saturday when suddenly the entire site disappeared. When it returned, almost all of the replied I'd sent were now gone. I'm going to give it another day or two to see if they magically reappear before I try to answer any more.

Confession time: I made a mistake. GASP! My days are off. I've been keeping a calendar of events (nerd) just so I can see at a glance where everything was and when it happened. As I was updating it for this chapter, I casually glanced ahead as I toyed around with ideas for the train ride back to school. And then I realized it. I started this calendar on September 1, and filled all the dates is forwards and back from that point. I kept thinking, "back to school, September 1, Monday." But today I finally realized it: they take the train back to school on September 1, yes, and classes start on Monday, yes, But those two events CAN'T happen on the same day. September 1 has to be a Sunday!

Okay, it isn't anything major that ruins the plot; it's one of those embarrassing things for people like me who USUALLY pay such close attention to the details. Nothing changes... it just now means Harry's birthday was a Wednesday instead of Thursday... no biggie. I'm not going to rewrite the first 26 chapters to fix it, but I will use the correct dates from here on out. So if you look at my calendar, see bottom, you'll see my little oops on there.

Well, as a birthday present from me to you, I give you... thirty-six pages (longest one yet)! That, and this chapter just didn't want to come out at ten pages. So, make them last, as there will be a delay until the next chapter comes out. I won't say how long because I still don't know yet. There are a couple things I've been putting off in favor of writing these last two chapters, but I really can't anymore. Just know that I'll be back at my keyboard as soon as I can.

I just want to say that I defend fully the dinner table scene. Let me just say that I have a sister, and I also spent six years in high school and college assisting with my high school's softball team, so I know exactly what even the most bookwormish of girls are capable of in the right circumstances. What circumstances those are, I think Emma accurately explains.

There's another just-for-fun shout out to one of my favorite TV shows in here. Ten points if you recognize it. Here's a clue. If you know what Barty Crouch Sr., Barty Crouch Jr., and Madam Hooch all have in common OUTSIDE of the HP world, then you're likely to get it... no appointment necessary.

As always, similarities to Book 6 are entirely intentional... as are the differences.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, MapleMountain for trudging through thirty-six of them.

And finally, congratulations to Renaiya for making it through Muggle high school. I'm sure you would have preferred that diploma be from Hogwarts instead of you-know-where, but still, an accomplishment nonetheless! CONGRATULATIONS!

Chapter 27. The Month that Followed: Unexpected Tidings, and a Movie.

With the activity and excitement of Harry's birthday, the reading of Sirius's will, school shopping, and Voldemort's failed attack behind them, life at number 8, Broomhill Road soon settled back into a routine.

The Sunday Prophet was pretty much devoid of any new information about the attack at Azkaban. After a late breakfast and leisurely morning, Emma announced that it was cleaning day. After Dan, Harry, and Hermione all went through the customary "Do we have to?" whining period (and Emma replied with an equally whining "Yes, we have to," they all got to work. Cleaning house wasn't so bad when everyone helped do it.

Everyone was responsible for their own bedroom of course, but aside from that, Harry was assigned the upstairs hallway, bathroom, and staircase, Hermione the living room, and Dan and Emma the dining room and kitchen. Afterwards, Harry and Hermione worked on the front yard while Dan and Emma did the back.

Even with the lack of rain and watering, weeds still were able to grow, well, like weeds. A few of Hermione's neighbors out and about stopped to say hello as they hadn't seen her since the previous summer.

"Hullo, Hermione, m'dear," Hermione heard a familiar voice call as she was on her knees weeding the front flowerbed while Harry worked on the narrow bed along the wrought iron fence.

"Oh! Hello, Eve! How are you? It's been ages since I've seen you!" Hermione exclaimed as she stood up and gave her neighbor and former babysitter a warm hug.

"Oh, I know m'dear. Not since last summer. I'm fine. And yourself?" Eve asked.

"Just wonderful!" Hermione replied. "So what are you doing today?"

"Oh, just taking the little one out for her walkies," Eve explained as she indicated the highly-energized Pomeranian that was now excitedly jumping up at Hermione's leg.

"Hello, Precious," she greeted the dog as she leaned down to scratch that little "scritchy-spot" (as Eve called it) that she knew the small dog loved so much. While Hermione was kneeling down, Eve finally noticed Harry in the upper part of the yard.

"And who is this strapping young man you have weeding your mother's vines?"

Hermione turned simply out of instinct to look in the direction her neighbor was pointing. She found Harry facing away from them, currently bending over to pick up a pile of weeds. Hermione wondered how Eve knew Harry was so handsome. Then again, the view he was currently offering them was quite nice as well.

"Oh, that's Harry. Just a friend from school," she answered as the two women watched him dump his pile into the clippings bucket. As he turned back to the fence, Hermione turned back to Eve, only to see her with her eyebrow raised and wearing a look that clearly asked without words, "JUST a friend?"

To be entirely honest, it was not such a large leap to make that assumption. If asked, any of Hermione's neighbors would have realized that they'd never seen any boy over at her house... ever... until now. It was one of those things that people didn't notice the absence until now that he was here.

Hermione knew that Eve was a very warm, very friendly, very talkative person who could easily say the wrong thing in front of Harry by accident. She knew that she had to explain to Eve why it was important that she be careful about what she said. There was only one way to do that.

Blushing slightly, she could only smile and hold her hands together in a "hoping" sort of way, and then brought her finger to her lips to ask her to not say anything. Eve nodded in understanding.

"May I at least meet him?" she asked. "Or are you trying to keep him away from every other female on the planet?" she added quietly.

"Yes to both," Hermione replied quietly, then turned to Harry.

* * *

Three little words. Harry hadn't been trying to listen to Hermione's "reunion" of sorts with her neighbor, but her words had carried.

"Just a friend."

They echoed in his mind as he walked back to the fence. "Just a friend." "JUST a FRIEND." He had not at all been prepared for the impact they would have on him. They cut through him like a cold wind on a sharp winter morning.

"Harry?" Hermione called, which he didn't hear.

He really couldn't have expected her to answer that question in any other way. But still, it reminded him of where he did, and didn't, stand with his best friend, whom he just happened to fancy.

"HARRY!"

Harry's mind snapped back to reality as he turned towards the sound of her voice. He walked over to them as they looked at him with bemused expressions.

"Sorry, my mind was wandering there for a moment," he explained lamely.

"Eve, this is Harry. Harry, this is Eve. When I was small, she used to watch me after school until Mum and Dad came home from work.

"Nice to meet you, dear," Eve said warmly, offering her hand to shake. Precious also noticed Harry and began pulling on her leash in an attempt to investigate the new human being. Harry looked questioningly at Eve, knowing it wasn't a good idea to pet a strange dog without permission. "Just hold out your hand and let her get a good smell."

Precious came over and sniffed Harry's outstretched hand. She must have decided he seemed safe enough, for she immediately began to wag her tail and lick his hand.

"That's enough," Eve said to her dog, and pulled very gently on the leash. "Oh, by the way. Did you get the booklets for getting your driving license? I gave them to David to give to your father."

"I did. Thank you."

"I know you're going back to school at the end of the month, so be sure to look them over before then. If you have any questions at all about anything, give me a call. Also, once you've taken your theoretical, let me know when you get ready to take the practical, and I'll talk to my friend over at the DSA and make sure you get one of the good examiners.

"Well, I best be off," Hermione's neighbor suddenly said. "Need to let Precious have her fun in the park before it gets too hot today. Heard it's supposed to get to thirty-four today. Far too hot if you ask me.

"Like I said, it's wonderful to see you again. I know your mum and dad said it's a wonderful school, but I don't get to see you anymore, dear. Be sure to stop by and say goodbye before you head back. Nice to meet you, Harry." Eve then gave Hermione one more hug and shook Harry's hand again. She and Precious then continued walking down the street towards the park.

As the two of them returned to their weeds, Harry did his best to banish from his mind those words that had so thoroughly put a damper on the rest of his day. He knew it was a straightforward question and a literal answer. But still...

After that, the only good thing about the rest of Sunday, in Harry's opinion, was that while still sunny it was significantly cooler than expected. The official, recorded maximum temperature for the day ended up being a downright pleasant twenty-two, twelve degrees below forecast. No one knew why. Then again, no one complained either.

Monday soon arrived and Dan and Emma went back to work. With little new to discuss (which is probably more accurate than 'report') about the "incident" at Azkaban, the Prophet returned to one of their favorite, and profitable, topics: Harry. Things were a little different this time, however.

HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?

After the failed attack on Azkaban Prison on Friday, talk has begun to resurface again about the mysterious disturbance at the Ministry of Magic six weeks ago. While there were no reports that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was directly involved in the siege of Azkaban, the presence of Death Eaters suggests his involvement.

"We're not allowed to talk about it. Don't ask me anything. Don't you have anything better to do on a Sunday night?" asked one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry last night.

The possible reappearance from the shadows of You Know Who, combined with what appears to have been an attempt to free prisoners has brought attention back to the incident in June. Highly placed sources within the Ministry, speaking under condition of anonymity, have confirmed that the disturbance centered on the fabled Hall of Prophecy.

Though Ministry spokeswizards have hitherto refused even to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing number of the Wizarding community believe that the Death Eaters now serving sentences in Azkaban for trespass and attempted theft were attempting to steal a prophecy.

The nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation is rife that it concerns Harry Potter, the only person ever known to have survived the Killing Curse, and who is also known to have been at the Ministry on the night in question. Some are going so far as to call Potter "the Chosen One," believing that the prophecy names him as the only one who will be able to rid us of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if it exists, are unknown, although (ctd. page 2, column 5)

"Great!" Harry spat, annoyed, as he carelessly tossed the newspaper onto the kitchen table, nearly knocking over his glass of milk. "Another title for my collection."

He glared at the piece of magical newsparchment with such intensity that one might think he was hoping to scare it into changing the article. Hermione, having already read the full article, picked up the newspaper and refolded it neatly.

"There wasn't much else in the rest of the article," she told him since he'd only read the front page. Harry nodded vaguely.

"Looks like Madam Bones was able to keep your vision quiet," she added hopefully. Harry nodded vaguely.

Realizing the sour mood he was now in, Hermione stared at the headline for a few moments.

"You know what we really ought to do?" she said seriously. "We should have some badges made for you. You know, like the ones you get at the Ministry. They could say things... all sorts of things." Hermione then changed her voice to mimic Yogurt as he professed the wonders of merchandising in Spaceballs.

"'Harry Potter: the Boy Who Lived,' 'Harry Potter: the Chosen One,' 'Harry Potter: the Flamethrower!' The kids, they love this one!" A small smile began to break though Harry's glowering visage, along with a quizzical look. "With the right fire spell," she clarified. "Do I need to continue?"

Harry smiled sheepishly and shook his head. "People are going to call you what they will, Harry. It's just a title. What's important is how you see yourself."

"I know," he said petulantly in the tone of a small child being reminded of that which he knew he should have known better. "It's just...." He didn't finish the sentence when he realized the look on her face warned him that she wasn't going to let him start a pity party.

"FINE!" he conceded exasperatedly, trying to give the impression that he really was irritated. Whether he was or not, the tiny uptick around the corners of his mouth betrayed the fact that he knew she was right... again.

Already done with his breakfast, Harry waited for Hermione to finish hers, occasionally casting brief glances at her. As he thought about her words, he began to think about something of Hermione he'd noticed all along, but really hadn't given any conscious thought until now.

"Erm... can I ask you a question?" he asked tentatively. She looked up at him and waited. "Yes, right. I just did," he conceded.

"Well, I was just wondering... how come you've never talked about movies before? I really don't remember you ever talking about them much in the last five years. I mean, it feels like all we've done is watch movies together these last few weeks. Now, don't get me wrong," Harry added quickly, "I LOVE watching movies with you, and your parents. I feel like I'm making up for all those lost years with the Dursleys. It's just that I didn't know that about you before."

Hermione sat there for a moment; she seemed to be struggling to find the right words. "Well, there's a question I wasn't expecting," she said with a small smile. "I guess part of it is because I really didn't think I had anyone to talk to about it. Most everyone at school lives in the magical world, so their exposure to movies is quite limited, if not nonexistent. I know Ginny once mentioned to me that she's never seen a movie or watched television before. I'm pretty sure the same is true for Ron. And I got the distinct impression that you weren't much better off.

"Part of it is also that, believe it or not, but as I started going to Hogwarts, my movie and television intake has actually increased. When I was at my other school, I never watched movies or television. I was always reading books. Yeah, imagine that," Hermione snarked as she saw Harry's grin.

"Remember Mum's rule about no books when we spend time together? She and Dad started that after I went to Hogwarts. I don't think they really were prepared for me to be gone for nearly ten months out of the year. I usually read in my room, so for me to be gone for most of the year, and then be hidden away in my room reading when they got home from work was a little hard on them.

"That summer after first year was when she instituted that rule. I could do my homework and read as much as I wanted while they were at work, but when they got home, they wanted to make sure we all did something together as a family... even if it was sit together and watch television or a movie.

"When we're all reading, each of us is encapsulated into our own little world," Hermione explained. "At least when we're watching a movie, we're all doing the same thing. We laugh together at the same jokes, we all fight against each other to answer the game show questions first.

"As the years have gone by and I've spent less and less time at home during holidays, together time has become even more important. By the time they get home and we've had dinner, there's really only enough time to watch a movie or a couple programs before they're ready to go to bed. So in that sense, I've really only started watching movies since I started going to Hogwarts, which is also pretty much why I didn't really talk about them early on."

For some reason, the tone of her voice as she finished that last sentence suggested that there was one more thing that she hadn't shared.

"And?" Harry encouraged her.

"And... I am my parents' daughter. My preference in movies reflects theirs. Let's just say that there are more than a few who would consider their tastes as... nerdy... geeky? I'm already the bookworm of Hogwarts. The last thing I need is for people to know about my movie habits as well. So, run for it, Harry! You've now just seen the real Hermione Granger; the one I keep locked away until I'm at home."

Harry thought about it for a moment. "Oh, okay then," he said simply. "So the real Hermione Granger is the same as the old one, except now we get to watch movies also?" Hermione thought about it and finally nodded. Harry then jokingly held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, the real Hermione Granger."

"Git," she teased, as she playfully swatted his hand away.

"The real Harry Potter," he confirmed. "Or should I say the Chosen One?" he replied grinning.

"Never," Hermione replied. "Just Harry. You'll always be just Harry."

Harry felt as though his heart skipped a beat as she said that. Seeing that she was now done with her breakfast, he desperately tried to think of something clever to say to cover his own flustered feeling. Knowing that she'd had the last word about his titles, he quickly thought of something he hoped would give him the last word. Or it might just get him killed and they'd be his last words.

"By the way, I think you forgot one," he said innocently as he started to walk around the table in case he needed to start running. "Harry Potter: the teddy bear!"

He was right; he did need to run.

* * *

With their sixth year classes selected and books purchased, Harry knew it was time to start his homework (once he'd unlocked himself from the safety of the upstairs bathroom). A closer look at his homework list promised a lot of reading and far too many essays.

"Yay!" he said unenthusiastically about starting his homework, repeating himself from the previous Monday when he'd gotten his O.W.L.s and realized he had two more years of Potions to look forward to since he qualified for the N.E.W.T. class.

"That's the spirit, Harry!" Hermione again encouraged him, just as she had before. Right before lunch, Hermione went upstairs to use the bathroom. As she climbed the stairs, the telephone rang.

"Would you grab that, Harry?" Hermione called from the top of the stairs. "If they're selling anything, tell them we don't want any and to not call back."

"Hello?" Harry answered the phone.

"Hello, Harry. It's Emma. Is Hermione there?"

"Erm, yeah, but she's... busy at the moment."

"Busy? What is...? Oh, smart boy. Anyway, Dan and I will be home late tonight. We let all of our month-end paperwork slide this weekend, so we're going to stay tonight to try to finish it up. Let Hermione know. We'll grab something to eat here, so tell her F.F.Y. tonight. Oh, gotta go. Dan's got a fighter in his chair. Doesn't like coming to the dentist, this one."

"Little boy or little girl?" Harry asked, hearing the amusement in Emma's voice.

"Neither," she replied. "Man, thirty-something. REALLY doesn't like dentists."

"Before you go, there's something I needed to ask you real quick. Is it all right if I use the telephone? To call someone I mean," Harry asked tentatively.

"Of course, dear," Emma replied. "As long as you're not calling the States or anything. I don't want to find any calls to Oregon or somewhere like that on our phone bill this month. You're not calling some secret girlfriend, are you?" she teased.

"No, just wanted to call a shop in London," Harry explained. "There's... something I wanted to get... someone... for their birthday, and I needed to talk to the shop owner... about it."

"Someone, huh?" Emma asked shrewdly. Harry could tell she saw right through him already. Knowing her, it'd only be worse if he denied it. He wouldn't be too obvious about it, however.

"Yeah, and I can't exactly go back into London, into the store, on my own without tipping my hand to this person, and ruining the surprise."

"I understand completely. Oh, and if you need either me or Dan to pick something up for you, just let us know."

Wow! Harry thought to himself. He really hadn't thought that far ahead yet in his plan. He'd briefly discussed his idea with the store clerk he'd spoken to in the record store, but was told he'd need to speak with the manager, considering the unusual nature of his request.

He knew that at some point he'd need to pay for and pick up his present, assuming it could be done. But since he still didn't know if it could be done, he hadn't given thought to the end part of it. At least now he knew he had a way to pick up the present without Hermione finding out about it.

"Thanks, Emma, I will," Harry replied.

"Gotta go, Harry. See you tonight. Don't fall asleep again. Bye," Emma said, then hung up, not giving Harry a chance to say anything. He was pretty sure he heard her chuckling as she hung up the phone. He turned three shades of red by the time he put his own receiver back on the hook.

"Hermione was right: this IS worse than being yelled at," he commented to himself. Knowing that she could be back at any second, he decided to look up the telephone number and make the call another time.

Ten minutes later, Harry realized that Hermione still hadn't returned from the bathroom. He was about to the point of debating whether to knock on the door when he heard it open and heard her go into her room, closing the door. Several minutes later, she returned downstairs and immediately returned to her Arithmancy text.

"Everything all right?" Harry asked gently; Hermione nodded. "I was about to start wondering if you'd fallen in," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"No," she said with a slight chuckle, "everything's fine." A moment later, she added, "Though... I should probably warn you."

Harry looked at her in concern. "I just want to apologize in advance if I suddenly scream at you or attempt to remove any number of your body parts. I might be a little tetchy for these next few days."

"Why? What's so special about this...? Oh! That time of the month," Harry whispered.

Hermione just glared at him, but softened when she saw nothing but concern and support on his face. "Um, yeah," she admitted. "And I can't take anything for it."

"Erm... aren't there... Muggle medicines you can take?" Harry asked awkwardly, genuinely trying to help. "Feminax?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. Oh, how he wished he could sink through the sofa and disappear.

The only reason he even knew the name of that particular medication was because Dudley would make fun of the actors in the advertisement when it was on the telly. It was one of the few times Aunt Petunia actually looked displeased with her precious son.

Again, Hermione glared at Harry; this time, he did find it quite scary. But again, seeing his own discomfort, she relented.

"No, I can't take anything," she explained. "No potions, no pills, nothing! Not even an aspirin. I'm down to only one potion per month... you know, from June. But I'm not supposed to take anything else that might interact with it... at least not until Madam Pomfrey sees me again, and that won't be until we go back to school.

"Ordinarily, I just bring the appropriate relief potion home for the summer. She brews it by the gallon for all the girls at school. The problem with using such an effective potion is that your body gets accustomed to it. Now that I can't take it, everything feels five times worse than it normally would."

"I'm sorry..." Harry began to say.

"Don't you DARE apologize for that night again, Harry," Hermione snapped at him. "I would have followed you there no matter what... and you KNOW it... so let's not start that, okay?"

"Erm... okay." Harry said, almost afraid. "Actually, I was just going to say that I was sorry that you were feeling bad, and was going to ask if there was anything I could do for you."

Hermione just smiled sadly. "Just promise that you'll forgive me for any more snappish moments."

"Okay," Harry agreed smiling. "But I will defend myself if you try to remove any of my body parts. I am rather fond of all my bits and pieces, thank you very much."

"Thank you," Hermione sighed gratefully. "Who was that on the phone?"

"Oh, just your mum. She said they'd be home late tonight. She also said to tell you F.F.Y. I didn't know what that meant, but I didn't get a chance to ask her."

"Fend for yourself," she explained. "It means we're on our own for dinner tonight."

"Ah... cereal. Perfect!" Harry joked.

Tuesday was the sixth, Harry's turn to make breakfast, allowing Hermione to sleep in until the tantalizing aromas from below became too much to ignore. It was, she decided, one of the few good things about his's time with his relatives: he was actually a very good cook... at least of those things the Dursleys liked to eat.

When her stomach (and her nose) would no longer allow her to lie in bed, she roused herself and dressed quickly. Her shower could wait until after she'd been fed; that, and she was hoping to be able to sneak up on Harry and watch him cook for a few moments before he noticed her.

She always found it... reassuring... to see him do everyday sorts of things: cooking, homework, watching television with her, sorting his laundry into light and dark piles. It was associating with him the mundane details of life that fascinated her the most. It suggested that there was more to him that just defeating dark lords.

It gave her hope that once everything was all over, he would be able to go on with his life. She tried not to think about it too much however. When she did allow herself to get swept away in one of her fantasies about how the future might play out for the two of them, it often led to certain other fantasies; fantasies that might have her more closely investigating foreign cultures... certain Veela customs, for example.

As she descended the stairs and approached the kitchen (it smelled like eggs and sausages this morning), she heard him talking to someone. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she made sure to stay out of sight as she crossed the living room.

"I'm holding for your manager," Harry said. His voice sounded pleasant enough, but after five years, she could hear the annoyance in it.

He must be on the phone, Hermione reasoned to herself. She could hear him continue to make breakfast as he talked on the phone. Cordless telephones were very handy.

"How many people are there in a store that size?" Harry muttered to himself, still on hold. "I don't have all day. She'll be up... YES! Hello? [...] No, that's all right. I didn't mind waiting." Hermione smirked to herself.

"I don't know if the guy I talked to told you, but I stopped by on Friday and asked him about the possibility of getting a... [...] Yeah, that's it. That's me. [...] Oh, well, first I was just wondering if it was even possible. I saw that thing you had and wondered if it could go the other way. [...] Yeah. Exactly."

Hermione knew she shouldn't be listening in on Harry's conversation, but she just couldn't help herself. She was nearly positive he was talking to the record store owner, or at least the manager. What he'd been doing in there, she was still determined to find out. The way he almost playfully told her it was nothing the other day was like dangling a bit of string in front of Crookshanks.

"You can? I mean, it can be done? Brilliant! What's it for? Erm... well..." he stuttered awkwardly. "Yeah. How'd you know? [...] Oh. Is it obvious? [...] Well, no, not yet. I wish. Actually, that's kinda what this is for. At least partly. [...] Thanks. So, what's involved. What do I need to do? [...] Oh, there are? What's the difference between the two?"

What Hermione wouldn't give for a pair of extendable ears right about now. Of course, she wasn't really sure if they'd be much help. And fortunately for her conscience, she knew that if she tried to pick up one of the other phones, there would be an obvious click as it connected. That saved her from having to even decide if she wanted to go that far.

"Okay. The small one would be fine then. I really only need room enough for one. [...] No, nothing original. [...] Yeah. [...] Okay, so I have to buy it first, then you can do the... process... or whatever it is? [...] No, that sounds fine. [...] Now, what would something like this cost? [...] Oh. Really? Twenty-five? Well, I wasn't expecting that. I only needed... [...] No, that's fine. I mean, if that's how it is, then that's how it is. I've just never ever thought about it before."

Hermione felt as though she was about to scream. She was getting so much information about what he was up to, but without the other half of the conversation, she couldn't make sense of any of it. She was beginning to reconsider taking the risk of picking up on of the other phones when Harry laughed.

"Well, there you go. Now you know. If anyone else comes in and wants to do the same thing, you can tell them that they're the second person to ever ask you about it. [...] So, considering what you said, what are we looking at for cost? [...] Oh, okay. [...] Well, like I was saying... I really didn't have the faintest idea about any it. I didn't know if it would be ten pounds or a thousand."

Hermione could hear the surprise in his voice, but without seeing his face or knowing what the manager said, she couldn't tell if it was a good surprise or not. He mentioned 'twenty-five.' Twenty-five what? Pounds?

"And I have to pay in advance? Okay. That might prove tricky. [...] No, it's not the money. Money's not a problem. It's just getting it to you. I can't drive yet, and if I were to jump on a bus or take the Tube, my absence would be noticed." Harry laughed again. "Exactly! What if... what if I have someone else pay you? Would that work? [...] Okay, great! [...] Well, I don't know who it would be yet, but I'll tell them to tell you it's for me. [...] Of course. It's Harry. Harry Potter.

"So, how long does something like this take to do? [...] Oh, really? No, that's great! [...] Oh, they are? Erm, how long will they be gone?" The disappointment in his voice was evident. "Oh. That is cutting it rather close. [...] Well, ideally I would liked to've had it in hand by the first of September. I'll be leaving for Scotland on the first. But there is some room in there. I absolutely, positively have to have it on September 19, or this whole thing will have been for nothing."

Hermione put her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping aloud. Whatever he was doing, it was for HER birthday... it had to be! She heard him flip the calendar on the wall... at least she assumed he was since he was talking about dates and she heard the rustle of heavy cardstock paper.

"The nineteenth is a Thursday, so, allowing a few days to get it delivered to me, and with my luck, for anything else to go wrong, can we plan on having it done by Monday the sixteenth? [...] Brilliant! [...] Oh, no, of course not! If we can get this started before they leave so they can get it done by the first, then by all means! I'd even pay extra as a rush fee if necessary. Like I said, I can't have it any later than that day, but much earlier is perfectly fine too. It would just be easier on everyone here in the long run if we could have it done before I leave.

"Okay, if anyone calls, just make sure they ask for me. [...] Oh, Mer- I don't even know the telephone number here," Harry said, embarrassed. Simply in reflex, Hermione opened her mouth to start to tell him it. She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth again when she realized she almost gave herself away.

"No," Harry said with a laugh, "I don't see it written down anywhere." When Hermione was small, their telephone number was written on a sticker on the telephone itself in case of emergencies. But when the phone finally stopped working a few years ago and they replaced it, no one saw the need to write the number down again. "It's a long story, but I'm just staying here temporarily. [...] Well, I've never needed to call her at her parent's home before. Like I said, it's a long story."

Hermione could only imagine the look on Harry's face as he verbally danced around with the manager. It wasn't always easy thinking up believable answers to simple questions when the real answers were of a magical nature ("I don't know her telephone number because I would ordinarily send a message by owl.")

"Okay, I'll call you back a little later once I find out the telephone number. If I've figured out the money by then, I'll give you the details then too. Otherwise I'll just have whoever comes in mention my name. [...] Okay, and what's your name so I can tell them who to ask for? [...] Okay. Listen, thank you SO very much. I don't know how to thank you for your time in helping me figure all of this out."

Harry laughed again. "All right, all right. Payment will be thanks enough. Okay, I probably should go now. Breakfast is done and she'll probably be up soon. [...] Okay. Thank you again. Goodbye," Harry said as he hung up the phone. Hermione, on the other hand, had retreated back up the stairs as soon as he'd mentioned breakfast, knowing he'd be up to fetch her soon.

"Breakfast is ready!" Harry said as he knocked on the bathroom door. He could hear the sink faucet running as he walked by.

"Okay, I'll be right down as soon as I finish brushing my teeth," Hermione replied. Harry thought it odd that she was brushing before she ate, but simply chalked it up to being the daughter of a dentist. Besides, he really didn't care at the moment because now he finally knew that that little stroke of inspiration he'd had looking through the windows of the record shop next to The Leaky Cauldron was finally coming to fruition.

Everything he'd hoped was possible. Sure, it would take some money, time, and a little coordination, but it was more than worth it. Regardless of anything else that might or might not happen between now and then, he was absolutely sure this would be the best birthday present ever.

Over breakfast, the two of them got caught up on the latest updates. Today finally brought the first real new news about the attack at Azkaban. In actuality, it was little more than rampant speculation, the kind the Prophet was all too well known for in recent years. It didn't appear until today however since it had to wait for everyone to get back to work on Monday and start gossiping about it.

"It says here that neither the Minister nor her office is commenting on suggestions that the dementor's attack was actually an assassination attempt on her," Hermione read to Harry.

"What?" Harry asked in shock.

"Yeah," she confirmed, then began to quote from the story.

"Sources familiar with the investigation, speaking under condition of anonymity... surprise... report that the Minister's presence was specifically requested by one of the prisoners at a hearing at the exact time of the attack. The Minister was unable to attend however as a previously scheduled but unpublicized meeting forced the postponement of several other meetings that morning to the afternoon, at the same time of the attack."

Hermione started speaking quietly to herself as she scanned down the article, deciding which bits were worth reading aloud.

"Hmm," she said, sounding intrigued, then resumed quoting. "An anonymous owl reported that the Minister was in fact attending the reading of the will of Sirius Black that morning." She skipped ahead a little. "One shop owner near Gringotts recalled numerous cracks of Apparition that morning and seeing a large entourage, including multiple Aurors, entering the bank early that morning."

Hermione let out a small snort of disgust. "I wonder who that anonymous source was," she said sarcastically.

"Probably someone who found themselves not invited," Harry observed. "I'm still amazed that my name hasn't been mentioned yet."

"I'm still only on the front page," she joked back in a tone of voice that would have been very fitting if he'd actually been hoping that he was mentioned. She continued to scan the first page, occasionally quoting something she felt particularly interesting. Finally, on the second page...

"Oh, I spoke too soon. Here you are," she said, to which Harry groaned. "Well, not you exactly... just related to you," she tried to explain.

"As I said before," Hermione read a quotation of the Minister, "I will not comment on that point as it may interfere with certain investigations. But to your other question, I will say this." She then paused for a moment. "Hmm, I think the Prophet may have quoted her out of context, since I can't find in here what those two questions were. Top-notch reporting, as always," she said, rolling her eyes, then returned to the quote.

"I will say this. As you may or may not recall, when You Know Who's return was first reported, and subsequently denied, immediately after the Triwizard Tournament over a year ago, also reported was the existence of Peter Pettigrew." Harry watched as Crookshanks walked into the kitchen and jumped up into Hermione's lap. She absently began petting him as she continued to read.

"Mr. Pettigrew was supposedly killed by Mr. Black that night all those years ago. All that was found of him was a finger. As originally reported by The Quibbler, the 'hero' Pettigrew had in fact been living comfortably all those years, minus said finger, biding his time waiting for You Know Who's return."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, comfortable except for when Crookshanks was trying to eat him."

"Oh, yes, and what a good boy you were," Hermione said in a very sweet voice as she set down the paper and vigorously scratched the sides of the cat's neck and the top of his head. Crookshanks looked so happy and content at that very moment that he probably would've fallen over if Hermione let go of him.

Now looking over her four-legged familiar, she quickly scanned through the article, looking for anything else. At one point, she made a small noise of interest, then began to quote mid-paragraph.

"... which begs the question: what else didn't Mr. Black do that night? How many of the crimes for which he spent thirteen years in Azkaban for was he actually innocent? If he didn't kill Pettigrew, then maybe he didn't kill all of those bystanders also." Hermione then finished reading to the end of the article.

"Well, I am impressed," she finally said, folding the paper back up. "She seems to be starting by building public sympathy for Sirius now. Most everyone knows they didn't get the truth about Voldemort last year. Some call it lies, some call it a 'misunderstanding.' Personally, I think 'head in the sand' is the most fitting," Hermione said with a satisfied grin.

"But regardless of how or why, they know they didn't get the truth. And to now find out, or at least be reminded, the Pettigrew is still alive and that he played an active part in Voldemort's rebirth," she said, pointing at a paragraph that she didn't read aloud, "I think it'll have a profound impact on people's opinions about Sirius.

"Did you also notice that at no point did she ever mention your name? There were half a dozen times in here she could have dropped your name and try to tie herself to you. Most of the stuff in here was straight from what you went through. Thanks to Luna and her father, everyone knows that. And it looks like she isn't trying to take credit for that. Not for that information, and more importantly I think, not for you either."

The day ended up being pretty much the same as Monday: plenty of reading, Dan and Emma working late to finish their paperwork, and cooler temperatures. With all of the weather forecasters looking quite silly for being so wrong about their predictions (again, no one complained about the break from the heat; it was now simply a matter of forecast-ego), they had all taken great care to explain this morning why the weather was supposed to be hot again.

They displayed repeating loops of satellite images that showed cloudless skies. Barometric pressure maps showed high pressure hovering over the country, keeping temperatures hot. And despite all of that, they were wrong again. Forecasts were off by nearly twenty degrees today. At only thirteen degrees, these unexpected cooler temperatures were quickly beginning to shift from pleasant to downright cold. And to top it off, there were scattered reports of fog around the country.

"But there is none, according to the Doppler radar," one frustrated forecaster was caught saying on camera. Taking Harry's mind off the strange weather were two surprises. The first was a welcome, if curious, letter: Neville had written back.

Hermione heard the owl tapping at her kitchen window about an hour after lunch. She sent it on its way after offering a drink of water and giving the letter to Harry. Neville started by expressing concern for Hedwig, since he didn't recognize the owl that delivered Harry's letter. He then thanked Harry for the sentiment about his birthday and said he could deliver his present whenever it was convenient.

He also told Harry that he found an invitation to tour the Ministry waiting for him upon his return home. He went, met some people, but stressed that he felt it was rather something of a "third class" tour. Harry grinned seeing that. He also agreed that the premise of their essay was now completely wrong, so he got rid of it. The part Harry felt curious was the last paragraph.

There is one other thing I wanted to ask you. I don't know if you know, but Sunday, the 11th, is Ginny's birthday. I don't know if they're going to have a party for her, what with everything going on and all, but I still wanted to get her a present. I really wanted to get something that she would really like, so I was wondering... if it's okay with you... if you knew of anything, or if maybe you could QUIETLY find out from Ron what she wanted.

Thanks, Neville.

Harry read it several times, trying to figure out what about it caught his attention. How did Neville know when Ginny's birthday was? It wasn't a secret by any means, but as far as he knew, it simply never came up as part of everyday conversation since it was during the summer.

But more than that (since there were lots of people who knew when her birthday was, and Neville could have asked them), there was that one little bit that kept drawing his attention: "if it's okay with you."

Maybe it was just his imagination, but the more Harry read it, the more he thought Neville was asking his permission. Why would Neville be asking anything of Ginny from Harry?

"What if... what if Neville fancies her?" Hermione asked in surprise after Harry shared his thoughts with her.

"Fancies her?" Harry asked in shock. "But how does that involve me?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?," Hermione answered. "Everyone knows that Ginny has fancied you practically forever. It could be that he's subtly trying to find out if you fancy her."

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, think about it. If you did fancy her, would you be amenable to helping him find her the perfect present?" she asked.

Harry looked at the paragraph again, and substituted Hermione's name for Ginny's. As he reread it, he felt the green eyed monster (very fitting for him) awaken.

"No," he admitted. He handed her Neville's letter when he saw that she wanted to read it, then started to think about it some more. Neville fancies Ginny?

"Well, he did ask her to the Yule Ball," Harry remembered. "She might have originally wanted to go with someone else," he added embarrassed, "but she seemed to have a good enough time once they got there." He raked through his memories, trying to look for anything else.

"And he did come to her defense last year from Umbridge's squad. No offense, but this is Neville we're talking about. How often does he go out looking for confrontation?" Harry observed.

"And you'll notice," Hermione added, "that he doesn't seem too eager to attract Ron's attention. We all know about how Ron feels about Ginny having boyfriends."

"Unless they're me," Harry added glumly.

"Well, that I think might've just been him trying to get you out of the way," she replied absently, still looking at the letter.

"What do you mean, 'out of the way'?" Harry asked.

"Well," she said with a nervous chuckle, "you know, get the two of you together so that she isn't with anyone else... you know... get it over and done with... out of the way. I think Ron trusts you with his sister... if you were interested, that is."

"Well, I'm not," Harry assured her, "but I suppose that's sort of a compliment... if he trusts me with her. At least, I think it is," he added, now confused.

"If Ginny was your sister," Hermione said, changing the subject, "would you trust Neville with her?"

"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation. "If she was my sister, I wouldn't want to know about them... doing things... snogging... but I would trust his intentions."

"So, back to his original question, do you know of anything that she might like? Pretend we knew for a fact that he didn't fancy her. Does that change anything? Do we still know of anything that she might like?" Hermione asked.

"Wasn't there something that she wanted from the Magical Menagerie?" he asked. Truth be told, he was a little too preoccupied with watching Hermione walk (and not get caught by anyone) to pay much attention to what Ginny was saying.

"Puffskeins," Hermione replied with a slight smile. Harry nodded and smiled back in response as he made a note of it on the parchment so that he could reply later.

That evening, after they'd finished off their leftovers from the Chinese restaurant from Saturday, the second surprise arrived: a second letter, this one from Ron... delivered by Hermes. While Harry was a little curious why he would use Percy's owl (unless Pig was currently delivering a letter to someone else), the contents shocked and delighted him. He also noticed it was quite possibly the longest letter Ron had ever written, even longer than his first thank you letter about a month ago. He would soon find out why.

HARRY!

WE'RE GOING HOME!!!

When we were gone Friday, Mum and Dad had a long talk with each other about what Dumbledore said about not being scared about what could happen. They both decided they felt like they were hiding here, so they told him they wanted to go back home.

AND DUMBLEDORE AGREED!

Dad said that Dumbledore was glad they'd decided on their own, since it saved him from having to ask us to share the house with some others. Oh, I think Dad said that he wanted to talk to you about that too.

Anyway, we're all getting packed up again. We'll be moving this weekend. Mum's going to throw a huge party on Monday. It's going to be a combination of everything: Ginny's birthday, moving back home, not being afraid, and Bill getting engaged.

OH! Did I forget to tell you? Bill asked Fleur to marry him!! Can you believe it? Damn, that's one HOT blonde off the market. Course, there are still more out there, so there's still hope, right? But bloody hell, mate. She's going to be my sister-in-law! Believe me, that's a whole lot more effective than a cold shower!

Hang on. Ginny's bugging me to make sure I say this and that.

At this point, Harry noticed the handwriting switched to Ginny's.

That is SO disgusting, Ron!

Mum was so furious with Bill at first, but now she's so happy. Seriously! She and Bill had a huge row over it.

*** Flashback to 12 Grimmauld Place, last Saturday, 5:00PM ***

Ron and Ginny landed in the entrance hall reasonably well; all of their shopping survived intact, and that was what mattered.

"Quiet, innit?" Ron asked curiously. "Where is everyone?"

"Do you hear that? They're down in the kitchen," Ginny answered. Sure enough, muffled voices were carrying up from the kitchen downstairs in the basement.

"Dad'll go crackers when he sees everything we bought," Ron said with a grin as they started to descend the stairs. "We should probably set some aside for him... you know, to stave him off."

"I doubt he'll want any of my jewelry," Ginny replied.

"Gin, this is Dad we're talking about here. If it's Muggle, he'll be begging you for it. He won't wear it, but he'll still want it. He took straws from the burger place, remember?"

"Yeah, that's true," she agreed. They were just about to announce their arrival and open the kitchen door when they heard their father's voice through the door.

"So, what's so important that it just couldn't wait?" he asked. "Ron and Ginny will be home any minute, and I want to tell them the big news."

The youngest Weasley siblings looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders and wondering what could have their father so excited... aside from a new car or something like that.

"Mum, Dad," Bill finally said, his nervous breathless audible even through the door. "Fleur and I are getting married!"

Something crashed inside the kitchen as it was dropped. "WHAT??!!" shrieked Molly. "What do you mean you're getting married?" she asked, not yet shouting but her voice definitely raised.

There was an awkward pause. "I mean... I asked Fleur to marry me, and she said yes. What else could I possibly mean?" Bill asked defensively.

"Where did this come from? When did this happen?"

"It happened today. And it came from the two of us realizing that we loved each other, and wanted to spend the rest of our lives together," Bill replied civilly.

"But you're so young! And this is all happening so fast!" Molly shot back. Her voice then raised up another level. "You CAN'T possibly understand what you're getting into!"

Muffled sobs could now be heard through the door. Ron and Ginny looked at each other with a sickening feeling in their stomachs. They had the feeling that this was Percy-Part II about to happen.

"You're right, this is happening fast, but in case you didn't notice," Bill said acidly, "there's a war going on out there. A war that just yesterday started back up again! Anything could happen to anyone of us. At any time. Whether we do this today, or next month, or next year, it doesn't change how we feel about each other! How would it be any different?"

"IT WOULD BE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!" Molly shouted back. But she was unable to find anything to say about how it would be different.

"The only thing that would be different would be the time lost together!" Bill said.

"That's NOT the point!" Molly stormed. "You ARE together! Whether you call it married or not, you ARE together!"

"THAT'S EXACTLY THE POINT!" Bill practically screamed back. "We WANT to be married! We WANT to be husband and wife. There are no guarantees in life, especially in war. We HAVE to seize the time we have NOW!"

"She's pregnant, isn't she?" Molly said, coldly, furiously. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? ISN'T IT?"

Ron and Ginny's eyes widened in shock as they looked at each other. Whether Fleur was pregnant or not, Molly's accusation and the way she made it had just taken this argument to an entirely new level.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE IF SHE'S PREGNANT OR NOT??!!" Bill roared.

"IT MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE IN THE WORLD!!" Molly screamed back.

"You know what? At least I didn't use a love potion to get her attention!" Bill spat venomously.

Several gasps could be heard coming from inside the kitchen. The whole house felt like all the air had been sucked out of it. Ron looked at his sister, completely lost. He stared at her intently, silently asking her what that meant. Ginny avoided his eyes. She shook her head, not wanting to answer for several reasons, the least of which being giving away their presence.

A deathly silence hung over the kitchen for several seconds, broken only by the occasional quiet sob.

"Bill," Arthur said quietly, restrained. He hadn't spoken a word up to this point.

"Dad... I'm sorry... I shouldn't've... I didn't mean..." Bill spluttered, his voice beginning to crackle.

"Stop," Arthur said in the same voice; Bill stopped.

"Don't you DARE compare..." Molly seethed dangerously.

"Molly," Arthur interrupted calmly, at which she stopped too. "Are you pregnant?" he asked in a calm, rational voice. Ron and Ginny slowly started to face each other, suddenly realizing what his question implied. They were sure of what they were about to hear, but terrified just the same.

"No," came the voice of Fleur, her voice broken from crying. Ron and Ginny looked at each other, horrified. She'd been there the whole time. The entire argument had gone on right in front of her.

"I don't believe you," Molly scathed.

"Molly!" Arthur interrupted again. Unable to see anything going on inside the kitchen, the stunned children on the other side of the door could hear the different tone in their father's voice, even though it was no louder than before.

"Bill and I 'ave not been... togezer yet," Fleur answered, proudly. A noise of disbelief could be heard coming from Molly. "Eet ees true. Veela tradition demands eet. Veela mate for life. Custom demands zat we 'ave been... intimate with each ozer, to ensure physical compatibility and attraction. But it also demands zat ze final act of joining be reserved for after bondage... bonding... marriage."

Inside the kitchen, the tension was so heavy that no one noticed. On the other side of the door however, for two unintentional eavesdroppers to hear their brother and his girlfriend (now fiancé) defend their sexual activities-what they had, and hadn't, done-and then for the word 'bondage' to be thrown in mistakenly, it was almost too much. Almost.

Ron and Ginny both looked at each other and did everything they could to keep from laughing out loud at what had to be the Freudian slip of the year.

Inside, Fleur's word had gone unnoticed.

"Why didn't you just say so?" Molly asked sharply. "Why didn't she just say she wasn't pregnant?" Her voice was still angry, but no longer quite as loud.

"Why would it have mattered?" Bill asked again, also still upset but not as loud. Arthur interrupted again, since he already knew where this would lead, having been there a minute ago.

"Bill, Fleur," he said calmly. "Look at me. Tell me that you know this is all very sudden." They agreed after a moment. "Tell me that you both know that marriage isn't something that should be rushed into."

"But, Dad," Bill began, but Arthur cut him off.

"William," Arthur said. Ron and Ginny's attentions perked up. Bill's name was not William, but Arthur used it occasionally when he wanted to make a point of talking to him as an equal, not as a father lecturing a son. "I know that you don't need my approval or blessing to get married. But as your father, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be able to give it to you anyway.

"So let me... how do the Muggles say it... run this up the yardarm... just as a thought. I will give you my blessing, and support you completely... on one condition." A moment of silence suggested that Bill and Fleur were willing to listen.

"I will support your engagement. I will support the two of you living together, under our roof if you wish," he said pointedly. Fleur had been staying in a flat near Gringotts in Diagon Alley since moving from France. The two of them had been visiting each other on a daily basis, in both places.

"I will support the two of you getting married... IF the two of you agree to wait a little while... to delay the actual wedding ceremony a little."

There was another long, silent pause.

"For how long?" Bill asked.

"I don't know," Arthur answered honestly in a tired voice. "Until I'm sure that the two of you know and understand exactly what you're getting into. All I'm asking is to delay the wedding. We'd go ahead with the engagement... but then just slow things down a little after that... and before we set up an aisle somewhere."

Yet another long, silent pause hung in the air.

"Eet would give us time to plan ze most perfect wedding," Fleur finally said to Bill, who remained quiet for a few more seconds. "I would like your parents' blessing, if zey are willing to give eet." Bill must have given some indication that he was waiting for his mother, for Arthur now addressed her instead of Bill.

"Molly?"

"So... he's... they're... we're..." she said weakly.

"We're going to take it slowly, going forward from here," Arthur told her. "Bill and Fleur are engaged. They're going to get married. And we're going to be happy for them. Then they're going to take their time, to make sure everything gets done when the time is right."

Seconds passed by like hours. After what felt like three hours, Ron and Ginny heard their mother completely break down as she burst into uncontrollable sobs. That was immediately followed by a small OOF! as she threw herself upon her first-born in a world-famous Mrs. Weasley hug (patent pending).

"Oh, Bill!" she cried into his chest. "I'm SO sorry for what I said. I was completely out of line."

"'T's okay, Mum," he wheezed under her grip, letting out a groan when she finally let go.

"And you, dear. You must think me mad for wailing like a banshee, saying such horrible things as if you weren't even there. Please, can you ever forgive me? And please, enough of this 'Mrs. Weasley' business. You're going to be family soon. Please call me Molly."

"Of course I forgive you, Molly," Fleur replied, her voice a little stronger. "Eet was all very sudden," she squeaked as Molly gave her a hug too.

Molly was still crying, but now for a different reason. "Oh, Arthur! Our little boy is all grown up and getting married! And Fleur! We're getting another daughter!" Now Arthur could be heard struggling within his wife's grasp.

About a minute later, after many shared apologies and reassurances, Arthur again spoke up. "Well, it looks like we're going to have one more thing to celebrate. Merlin's beard! It's nearly twenty after! Ron and Ginny must've gotten back ages ago!" he gasped in realization.

The two youngest Weasleys looked at each other in panic; everyone would come looking for them in a minute. Not wanting to be caught by the door, they quickly whispered a foot-fall silencing charm on each other that they'd picked up from the twins (without their knowledge), then ran up the stairs.

*** End flashback ***

Ron and I then ran up to his room and pulled out his chess board and set up the pieces to make it look like we'd been playing a game the entire time.

Fleur as my sister-in-law? At first, I thought it was going to be so wonderful. A beautiful wedding, and finally I could have a sister. (Harry got the distinct impression Ginny was writing to Hermione now) But the more I think about it, the more I'm not so sure. I mean, Fleur is a bit like a Pepper-Up potion. In small quantities, she's brilliant, energizing. But in large quantities, you feel like your head is going to explode. I agree with Ron (but for non-perverted reasons): BLOODY HELL!

Let's just hope Bill moves into her place and not the other way round!

The handwriting now switched back to Ron's.

That's a first... Ginny agreed with me. And who said anything about being perverted. I'm a bloke, she's a veela. It's hard not to notice her.

So anyway, the party for everything is going to be Monday. If you see Hermione, be sure to let her know. You're both invited. Oh, and by the way. I think their engagement is supposed to be a surprise. When Dad came up a couple minutes after we did, he said we were going to have a big party to celebrate.

Ginny asked to celebrate what... absolutely innocently! It's a good thing she did it. I probably would have started laughing. Anyway, that's when he told us about going home (that WAS a surprise) and said it was for that and for her birthday. But then he added it was for something else... a surprise. So yeah, I guess it IS supposed to be a surprise. Oh well, too late. Just be sure to act surprised.

I'll let you know if I hear anything else.

Ron

"Wow!" was all Hermione could say after reading the letter.

"Yeah!" Harry confirmed.

* * *

Wednesday afternoon, Dan called home to inform them that he and Emma might be a little late coming home that night; they would be home for dinner this time, however. He asked them to be thinking about what they wanted so dinner could be started as soon as they got home.

Harry and Hermione, up to their eyes in their own "paperwork," could fully relate to how her parents must be feeling. As such, they decided they would surprise them by making dinner and having it ready for them when they got home. Rummaging through the cupboards, they decided to make spaghetti.

Actually, Harry ended up making the entire dinner by himself. He insisted on it, saying it was a small gesture on his part to express his appreciation for them letting him stay there during the summer.

"I hope the three of you like garlic," Harry called from the kitchen into the living room where Hermione was reading.

Only if you don't mind me snogging you with garlic breath, Hermione thought to herself. "Yeah," she replied aloud.

Dinner was ready half an hour before Dan and Emma actually arrived home. With the help of several warming charms however, no one knew any different. As they sat down to eat, Dan jokingly observed that all that was missing was a lovely loaf of French bread. The magic of their warming charms fresh on her mind, Hermione went over to the bread box and retrieved four slices of sandwich bread. She set them on a plate on the table with a slight grin.

Dan and Emma blinked in surprise when their daughter transfigured them into four slices of French bread. They were truly at a loss for words. They'd known for years that their daughter was a witch, but they were never allowed to see her do anything at home because of the underage ban. They'd seen a few bits of magic performed here and there during their trips to Diagon Alley over the years, and to last week's visit to the Ministry, but all of those were performed by other people.

They'd watched her expand the space in the back of their car, but that didn't really "look" like much; there wasn't much to see happen. But now, to witness first-hand four slices of bread magically (appropriately, and yet also for lack of a better word) change into something else was really quite powerful for them. Their daughter was a witch. They'd known it for years, but now, for the first time, they were actually able to see it. And they were so proud of her.

But, Harry's spaghetti dinner was waiting, and they were famished, so they just said 'thank you' as if it were any other everyday occurrence (because, deep down, they knew it really was for their daughter), and then they all began to eat.

Everyone ate far too much that night as evidenced by their inability (or unwillingness) to get up out of their chairs for a good ten minutes after they'd all finished eating. They all basked in the glow of a wonderful meal.

Burp!

The other three burst into giggles as Harry apologized profusely. "Excuse me! I definitely ate too much. It just slipped out."

"Well, they say that a good burp is a compliment to the chef," Dan joked. "So... are we just bragging now, Harry?" Shaking her head in good humor, Emma was the first to finally get up to take her plate to the sink.

Hic-BAAAARRRRRRP!

The hiccup-triggered belch rolled through the otherwise silent kitchen like thunder. Emma didn't need to turn around to know from whom that came. Her hearing was working perfectly well, thank you very much, and it told her that that miniature earthquake came from the person sitting directly behind her.

"HERMIONE GRANGER!" Emma scolded in her dutiful motherly way.

"EXCUSE ME!" Hermione replied genuinely.

Emma cast quick glances at Dan and Harry. Dan was looking at his daughter with a decidedly impressed look on his face. Figures! Emma thought to herself. He never really was ever able to "crank one out" like that. After twenty-two years of marriage, they were long past the point of being embarrassed by little things like burping. In fact, when they were alone, after a particularly good meal, and if the mood struck them, they'd even try to out-do the other. Emma won. She always did.

Emma noticed that despite the stunned look on his face, Harry didn't at all look offended or disgusted. He just looked as though he'd just heard Hermione belch for the very first time... which was probably the case.

In the privacy of her own home and in the presence of the two people who were her family, Hermione had no compunction about relieving excess pressure if needed. It was rather uncomfortable, after all.

It was from that, therefore, that Emma wondered if her daughter didn't actually try very hard to not eruct in front of Harry. Oh, it was obvious that it was an accident... the spasm of her diaphragm from the hiccup causing the uncontrolled release of pressure. But... she could have closed her mouth.

Had Hermione become so comfortable around Harry these past few weeks, Emma wondered... so used to his presence that she now treated him literally as one of the family? If so, Emma was quite certain that "brother" was not the familial role her daughter had in mind.

Harry just sat there, Emma noted, shocked, bewildered, maybe even impressed. He also looked like he wanted to start laughing but wasn't sure if he was supposed to. Whatever Harry was feeling, whatever Hermione did or didn't do on purpose, Emma knew what she had to do... at least for show. Daniel Radcliffe Granger, would you quit grinning like an idiot?!

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" Emma asked her daughter.

"Um... my compliments to the chef," Hermione said timidly, almost in the form of a question. Emma was glad that Dan finally let out a snort of laughter at that, for it covered her own. The show must go on, however.

"You two," Emma said to the two teenagers, "such behavior at the dinner table I cannot believe. Dishes, the both of you, now!" she said sternly. Harry looked confused, afraid even that he was actually in trouble. Emma knew however that her daughter saw right through her. Fortunately she went along with it.

"Now, now dear," Dan suddenly said consolingly to his wife. "It was an accident. I think you're just jealous that your daughter can now out-belch you." He then turned to Harry and added in a undertone, "She definitely is her mother's daughter in that regard."

If there was any good thing about what Dan just said, Emma decided, it was that Harry was now grinning and Hermione now looked genuinely embarrassed. Dan, on the other hand, knew he was in trouble.

"Harry, Hermione? You two, go on into the living room and watch some television or something. Dan. Dishes. I'm going to take a nice long bath. And NO, you can't join me when you're done." Emma turned away from her husband and started towards the living room. As she passed the other two, she shot them a wink on her way out of the kitchen.

Out of sight from all of them, Emma smiled to herself as she climbed the stairs. Harry was now grinning, Dan was doing the dishes and annoyed about the bath thing, but she knew he would get over it for she still owed him a back-washing from their earlier wager. Hermione was grossed out by the blatant reminder that the two of them bathed together. All in all, everything worked out, she felt. For her especially, as there was a nice hot bath in her imminent future.

Voices from the living room made her smile even more just as she closed her bedroom door. "Were we really in trouble?" Harry asked.

"Nah," replied Hermione. "Middle names never came out, remember?"

That evening, around eight o'clock, the doorbell rang.

"Professor! Tonks!" Harry greeted their visitors warmly as he invited them in (with his wand behind his back).

"Hello again, Remus, Miss Tonks," Dan also greeted them. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Business, I'm afraid," Remus said regretfully. "Might I borrow Harry and your daughter for a few minutes?"

Dan's smile faded at the mention of business. "Of course," he said, directing them towards the kitchen. "Would either of you care for a cup of tea?" They both politely declined.

"Well, I'll leave you four to it then. I, uh, think I go on up and check on Emma," he said with small grin to himself.

The four sat around the kitchen table quietly for a few moments. "It's been a very busy day today, Harry," Remus said. "Very busy. Some of it you will read in the Prophet tomorrow, some of it you won't. But we felt you should be aware that things are now in motion."

"'We'?" Harry asked, confused.

Tonks now spoke up with a large smile on her face. "Yes. Of course he wouldn't tell you himself. Remus here now has a full time job. He's been... deputized... would be the most accurate term. With all of his years of experience, the Ministry feels he should be gainfully employed, fighting the forces of darkness and all that good stuff," she said, obviously enjoying herself.

"I'm not a full, official Auror mind you," Remus tried to downplay himself, "but at least they don't have me out there doing probie-work, chasing down kids who blow up their aunts. But I am on a bit of a leash, so to speak, until I complete the Auror training."

Harry noticed Remus become slightly embarrassed as he said that. "Whose leash?" he could not resist asking, having a pretty good feeling he already knew the answer. Tonks just grinned evilly, not saying a word.

"So, what's happened today?" Hermione asked, getting back to the "business."

"Well, several things actually. I'm not sure which is worse, so I'll just pick one and start there," Remus said. "A reporter came up to interview Kingsley this afternoon, wanting more information about the Department of Mysteries. Ever since that article came out, Mr. Chosen One, interest has picked up again." Harry scowled at Remus for bringing his new title up again, but the werewolf laughed it off.

"So, what's new about that?" Hermione asked. "They're always trying to dig something up."

"Well, he gave up rather easily on the Hall of Prophecy when we gave him the usual 'no comment' routine," Remus explained. "But then he switched tracks. He wanted to do an article about the six of you who were there that night. Said he wanted to give the six of you the credit you deserved."

"Yeah, right," Harry scoffed.

"Wait," Hermione suddenly said. "How did he know there were six of us there that night?"

"See? I told you she'd figure it out," Tonks said triumphantly to Remus.

Remus ignored her and continued. "Did the Minister talk to you about 'need to know'?" Harry and Hermione nodded.

"Well, so, Kingsley and I decided to play along. We asked him to tell us what he had and we would ever so generously fill in the gaps, since it was for such a noble cause as bringing Harry Potter publicity. He didn't have much to say, actually. He briefly mentioned that he knew about you two, Ron, Ginny, and Neville. But he was very interested in 'the young blonde girl.' He didn't know anything about her, and wanted to find out as much as he could."

"Of course!" Hermione gasped. Harry looked at her surprised. "Don't you see, Harry? They don't know anything about Luna. Everyone knows you were there, and anyone who knows you well enough would know who Ron and I were. And it's not exactly hard to guess who Ginny is if Ron's around. And Neville. Bellatrix had to've known who he was. But no one knows who Luna is. He had to be a spy fishing for information, wasn't he?" she asked excitedly.

Lupin smiled in pride at his former student, but then it faded. "Yes, and no," he replied. "He was after information, but he wasn't a spy. At least not a willing one." Harry looked at him ominously; Lupin nodded. "He was under the Imperius Curse.

"We arrested him and put him in a cell. We had someone come in and look at him, and were able to get the spell lifted. Unfortunately for us, the caster was much more skilled at memory modifications than he or she was at Unforgivables.

"So, Mr. Harry Potter, Miss Hermione Granger, I am here to inform you that with increased interest in the six of you now apparent, it has been decided that you shall all have minders from now on. They're not babysitters, they're not chaperones. Just think of them as an extra pair of eyes, in case you need them."

"Great," Harry complained. "Who are we getting?" he asked, fully expecting some first year Auror who no doubt would treat this like babysitting. That, or Mundungus Fletcher.

Remus grinned broadly, as did Tonks.

"Are you serious?" Harry asked enthusiastically.

"No, I'm Remus," Lupin deadpanned. "Oh, come on, Harry. I saw that one coming a mile away!"

"Harry gets Remus here," Tonks said, "and I have the pleasure of tending Miss Granger. Although," she added dramatically, "I wonder if I'm really needed what with Harry over here all the time."

Remus looked thoughtfully at Harry for a few moments, but then turned to Hermione.

"We've been told that both you here, and Harry at his undisclosed location, are relatively protected. Not having to watch you two twenty-four hours a day will free us up for more... leisurely activities, like tracking Voldemort," he said.

"As I understand it, about the only time either of you should need either of us is if you plan on going out for extended periods, say for more than an hour or so. Just let us know where you're going and when you're leaving, and we'll take care of the rest. Neither of you should even see us unless you actually looked. The entire goal of this is to not interfere in your lives. You're not under lock and key," Remus emphasized. "We just want to know where you go so we can tag along... out of sight."

Remus and Tonks looked at both Harry and Hermione for a few moments to allow everything to sink in. They knew that out of the six, these two would be the most likely to object. And they still didn't know where Harry was staying. They both knew it would be hard keeping track of Harry (assuming he cooperated) without knowing where he was. Every time the subject came up, no one was able to tell them.

Harry thought about it for a few moments. It did sound a lot better than last year... though that probably wasn't saying much. "How do we get in contact with you?" he finally asked.

"Well, if there's enough time in advance, you can owl us. I understand Miss Granger has her own owl now. Or... you can just call us," Remus said as he pulled a Muggle mobile phone out of his pocket; Tonks did as well. Harry and Hermione stared at them in surprise.

"Mobiles?" Hermione asked, impressed.

"Unlike most of the rest of the Ministry, or much of wizarding Britain for that matter, the Auror Division does try to keep current with Muggle technology," Tonks explained. "It's crucial for when we have to be out in public. You can't exactly send an owl if you're following someone along the streets of downtown London, now can you?"

"What about Tonks' wristwatches?" Harry could not resist asking.

Tonks gave him the evil eye then returned to the mobiles. "The only drawback is that they don't work in locations of high magical concentration, such as the Ministry building and St. Mungo's. They actually work quite well in Diagon Alley.

"So if you telephone us and get a message saying we're out of the service area, then you'll know where we are," she explained. "But then again, if we're in the Ministry, you can just call us by Floo."

"What about my house?" Hermione asked. "The Headmaster said he put a Floo ward over it... not that it was ever hooked up to the network."

"Well, now it is... temporarily," Remus informed her. "Now that we're doing this, the ward has been modified. Think of it like bars on a window," he said, then looked awkwardly at Harry, silently apologizing. Harry shook his head to say no apology needed.

"You can look through them. You can speak through them. You just can't travel through them," he explained.

"Oh, okay," Hermione replied, seeming satisfied. Except, "I don't have any Floo powder."

"Got you covered on that, dear," Tonks said, pulling a small bag out of a third pocket that just now appeared on her black leather jacket.

"And you too, Harry," Remus said, pulling a similar bag out of his sports jacket. Harry noticed that Remus looked almost exactly the same as he did when he was teaching, except now all of his clothes were new. And he looked like he'd been eating well also.

"And speaking of the Headmaster," Remus segued. "There is a matter he asked me to discuss with you, Harry. Paperwork aside, Sirius's house is now yours. With the Weasleys returning home, he would like your permission to resume using it for his... extra-curricular activities, if you catch my meaning."

"Of course," Harry agreed immediately. "Just be sure they clean up after Snape." Everyone smiled; their love for the head of Slytherin House was evident.

"Was there anything else?" Hermione asked, remembering Lupin's earlier words.

"Yes," Tonks said solemnly. She looked at Remus.

"There was another dementor attack today," he said, "in Cardiff."

"Cardiff?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Why does anything happen in Cardiff?" Remus joked, to which Tonks immediately jokingly (and yet not) punched him on the arm.

"My dad's mum was from Cardiff!" she admonished him. "Just because the south Wales coast could fall into the sea and London wouldn't notice, it doesn't mean you can... Oh, I sound like Nana," a stunned Tonks observed, then glared at Remus. He nodded guiltily, apologized, then continued with his report.

"Do you remember Dumbledore telling you that no one knew what would happen from them taking so many souls?" he asked. Harry and Hermione nodded in foreboding. Remus looked like he might become sick. "The dementors are breeding.

"We don't know how," Remus answered Hermione's unasked question of how that was possible. "All that we know is that they are. And that's what's affecting the weather. The Aurors who arrived on scene reported a heavy mist in the area... unnaturally cold... just like you feel with the dementors. The scattered reports of fog around the country, we suspect, are sites of additional... dementor activity."

"A few Auror visits and several memory charms later, we've learned that there have been unexplained deaths in each of those places," Tonks now picked up. "But it's all happened within the last couple days. All of the Muggle investigations are still ongoing so nothing's made it into the press yet.

"And since we only just found out today about the dementors, we're already that much further behind. If there hadn't been a Muggle-born wizard living in that same neighborhood who recognized the dementors' cold, we might never have found out about it until many lives later."

"What do we do?" Harry asked grimly.

"Brush up on your Patronuses is about all you can," Remus replied. "Of course, as I recall, for you," he said to Harry as a small, hopeful smile returned to his face, "that may be more than enough."

"Any more happy news?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Actually, I would like to talk to Harry alone for a moment, if you don't mind," Remus said to the two females, surprising them. After they went into the living room, he slid closed the pocket doors that were tucked into the walls between the kitchen and living room. Harry's curiosity was piqued when he cast a silencing charm on them.

The last Marauder (who Harry actually cared about, that is) sat down across from him. He set his hands on the table and looked awkwardly at them. After clearing his throat, he finally spoke.

"On our drive over here, Tonks told me that this is the second time she's come over and you've been here with Miss Granger... with Hermione. If the two of you..." Remus started to say, extremely uncomfortably. He then cleared his throat again.

"This is really something James should be talking to you about, or even Sirius," he managed to force out.

No, Harry thought to himself, becoming embarrassed. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

"But, since they're not here, I guess it falls on me then," Remus trooped on valiantly. "I seriously doubt your uncle would have this discussion with you. Harry, if you and Hermione are-"

"We're not!" Harry said in a panic, desperate to stop this conversation before it went any further. He was somewhat certain he didn't care if Remus knew how he felt about Hermione, for he knew he could trust him to keep his secret. But the last thing he wanted was for him to think there was anything "inappropriate" going on.

"There's nothing going on between us," Harry insisted.

"It's all right, Harry," Remus tried to assure him, not believing him. "Hermione's a wonderful young woman, and I think the two of you-"

"Professor, I swear. There's nothing going on between us. I'm here because..." Harry started to say, but then a very strange thing happened. Right as he was about to tell his friend why he was always here, he suddenly found that he could no longer remember. It was as if the knowledge of why he was in her house simply disappeared from his mind. He honestly did not know why he was in Hermione's house.

He knew that he was supposed to know why he was here, but no matter how hard he tried to remember, he just couldn't. As soon as he stopped trying, the information suddenly reappeared. He was at her house because he was living with them for the summer.

He quickly opened his mouth to try again while it was still there. "I..." he started, and then it was gone again. Remus began to smile.

"It's all right. I understand. I do. I was your age once, believe it or not. I think it's wonderful that the two of you are together. I trust your judgment, Harry. And hers. It's just that once you're together, the time quickly comes when you begin to think about being together in other ways as well.

"All I want is for two of you to be safe. Maybe you're not at that point yet, but I know it will come much faster than you might expect. And I know that they don't teach you that at school."

Harry felt his face become so hot from embarrassment that he wondered if his hair might catch fire.

"Please, Harry. Whatever is or isn't going on, wherever you are or aren't," he said, stressing the negatives as though he really didn't believe him, "just know that I'm here for you if you have any questions. ANY questions. I just don't want your schoolmates to be your only source of information. Bad things can happen that way."

Well, at least Harry was slightly amused by the fact that Dan had said the same thing about his classmates. He was still extremely embarrassed and frustrated that Remus didn't believe him.

Harry growled in annoyance as he grabbed his friend's hand and led him into the living room. Sound rushed at them as the silencing charm was broken when the doors slid open.

"Hermione," Harry called in desperation. "Please tell Remus why I'm here. I can't. I've tried twice and I keep forgetting." Hermione looked at him, perplexed. "He thinks... that I'm over here... that you and I... that we're... you know..." he said, trying to imply that they were doing more than just studying.

Hermione however did not understand his implication the same as it was intended. She took it as he meant that Remus thought they were merely dating. She felt as though her breath had been knocked out of her.

Fine! Hermione huffed to herself, rather upset. If he'd rather share the secret than let anyone even think that we could possibly be dating, then that's PERFECTLY FINE with ME!

"Professor," Hermione said calmly, "Harry is over here because he is living with us, with me and my parents." And with that, suddenly Tonks and Remus understood. Both of them recognized the effect of a locked door being removed from their minds.

"Oh," Remus said in realization. "Sorry," he said to Harry sheepishly.

"It's okay, Professor. I just didn't want anyone jumping to the wrong conclusion," Harry replied, relieved.

Hermione stared coolly at Harry. She was pretty sure she was overreacting about what Harry said, but she was having her period. She felt bloated (and Harry's phenomenal dinner didn't help that at all) and she had cramps, so she felt she was entitled to overreact a little. She sat and stewed in her own juices as the three others started talking again.

"So when did the Auror thing happen?" Harry asked Lupin.

"Today, actually," he admitted. "That reporter from the Prophet? He came in right as Kingsley was swearing me in."

"Wow, you work fast," Harry said with a laugh. "So what about Ron and Ginny? And Luna and Neville? They're getting babysitters too?"

Lupin glared at Harry about the 'babysitter' comment but then went on. "Yeah, we've already talked to them. You two were last since we actually had to drive here," he explained at Harry's curious look. "They'll all have minders. Well, except for the Lovegoods for a while."

"Why not them?" Harry asked.

"They're leaving for Sweden next week."

"I thought they already went to Sweden," Harry replied, confused. He'd simply assumed that their trip would be during the first part of the summer, not the last. He never did ask her about it. And now that he thought about it, Ron only said that she'd written him every day. He never did say what they discussed.

"I don't know," Remus replied. "Her father said something about this month being when the mating season was. Believe me, at that point, I didn't want to know any more. I still remember her from in class."

* * *

Ten minutes after Lupin and Tonks left, Hermione was still silently brooding as she watched television.

"I still don't see what the big deal was," she suddenly said, surprised that she'd verbalized her thoughts, but grumpy enough that she didn't care at this point.

"About what?" Harry asked.

"About what Remus thought and why you had to have me tell them the secret," she explained.

Now Harry was confused. Did she misunderstand... that which he didn't actually say? Okay, maybe innuendo wasn't the most reliable form of communication, especially when it could be taken different ways.

"Hermione," he said, then dropping his voice even though he knew Dan and Emma were still upstairs... doing what, he didn't want to know. "Remus thought we were having sex!" he whispered.

"WHAT?!" she whispered back.

"YEAH! He got flustered, and then started talking about how Tonks told him I was always over here, and then he kept talking about you and I, you and I, getting more and more embarrassed. He said it should have my dad telling me this since they don't teach it at school, but that he just wanted us to be safe, whatever we were doing."

Hermione groaned as she leaned back in the loveseat. "Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry!" she apologized.

"Well, now it's no big deal," he replied from over on the sofa. "The last thing I wanted was for him to think we were doing anything inappropriate, or that I was taking advantage of you or something like that." Harry neglected to mention the part about Lupin saying that he thought the idea of them together was wonderful.

Hermione was pretty sure she was overreacting again, but still, the thought of Harry defending her honor was quite possibly the most romantic thing she'd ever heard.

* * *

Thursday came and went with no new information... for them, at least. There was no mention in the Prophet about their "influenced" reporter. The dementor attacks more than made up the space in the headlines however. It detailed the latest attack, as well as the others that were suspected. It also briefly mentioned the strange chilly mist that was beginning to spread across the country.

Up until this point, there had been no mention of the strange weather other than that the Muggles were baffled by it. Amazing how there was no mention that the wizarding world didn't know anything either until there had been a "witness" who had felt the dementors' presence.

In the morning, Harry finally started reading Numerology and Grammatica; he'd put Arithmancy off until last. He wanted to do all of his reading first (to let it "soak in"), and then he'd start his essays. Hermione, done with all of her reading, decided to take a break, so she started reading her driving manual instead. This being their fourth day of homework, they decided to do something different after lunch: they quizzed each other.

"What's the numerological significance of the number four?" Hermione asked. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember.

"Four... four legs on a table. Four represents stability," Harry said and began to grin. This one in particular had caught his attention when he read about the meaning of the numbers. "People who are fours enjoy hard work. They are practical, reliable, down to earth. They prefer logic and reason to flights of fancy. They are good at organization and getting things done. Like the four seasons, they are predictable."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well, most of the time. They can also be stubborn, overly practical, and prone to angry outbursts." Harry grinned again. "Gee, I hadn't noticed."

Hermione smiled sweetly back to him. "Keep it up, mister, and I'll show you an angry outburst. Okay, your turn."

Harry took the driving manual she'd handed him and opened it to a random section. "What is the difference between double white lines and double yellow lines on pavement?" he asked.

"That isn't one of the approved test questions, Harry," she complained.

"Angry outburst," he replied in a sing-song voice.

"Fine," she said succinctly. "Double white lines prohibit overtaking. Double yellow lines that run along the carriageway indicate no waiting at any time." Harry was about to confirm her answers when she continued. "Double yellow transverse marks on a curb, on the other hand, indicate no loading or unloading of vehicles at any time."

Harry looked down at the book again. He hadn't read that part. She was right, of course. He looked back up at her; she smiled again.

After the nice diversion of the quizzing session Thursday afternoon, they both returned to their normal routine on Friday. Harry resumed his reading and Hermione began her essays.

Dan and Emma were home early Friday evening, as compared to the rest of the week. They must have left immediately at five o'clock. Within five minutes of them walking in the door, Harry and Hermione found out why.

"Do you two have any plans tonight?" Dan asked eagerly.

"Nope," both replied simultaneously.

"Well, what do you two say to going out tonight to go see a movie?"

"YEAH!" they both replied enthusiastically.

"Which one?" Hermione then asked. "There're several coming out tonight."

Dan just looked at his daughter as if she sprouted a second head. "Do you really need to ask which one?" he asked her dramatically. "Aliens attacking the earth, and it has Lonestar and Mr. Data in it?"

Hermione smiled and turned back to Harry. "Independence Day, Harry."

"Oh yeah, that one," he said, remembering the previews on television. "With the aliens, and the guy who was Lonestar from Spaceballs. And that guy from Jurassic Park, too."

"When's the next show?" Hermione asked.

"Well, the movie's nearly two and a half hours. There's one starting right now. The next one's at 8:45."

After calling Lupin and informing him of the theater and show time (Harry was quite certain he heard Tonks in the background shout, "We get to go to a movie?" and then promptly knock something over), the four of them had a light dinner. Sandwiches were the general rule, however Emma found in the refrigerator her leftover Chinese food from earlier and decided to finish that off. That left plenty of room for the movie-mandatory hot buttered popcorn... or at least popcorn with lukewarm "buttery-flavored topping."

On the short drive to the cinema, Dan explained how the movie had been released over a month earlier in the US to coincide with their Independence Day holiday weekend. "Despite some mixed reviews, it's doing quite well over there, so I figure it's worth seeing at least once. Besides, it's been ages since all three of us have gone out to watch a movie. What about you, Harry?"

"Erm, I don't know... seven or eight years ago?" Harry remembered. Silence filled the car. "The only reason they even took me was because Dudley started screaming about getting there late, since they were having a hard time getting hold of Mrs. Figg."

"Well, there'll be no screaming tonight," Emma promised, "unless it's from the movie being too scary for you two."

"Honestly, Mum," Hermione complained. "It's rated '12'. I think we're all old enough to not get scared by the movie."

As they stood in line, Harry noticed a movie poster for a small independent film that would be opening soon. He recognized that the title was in Welsh, but he'd never learned how to read or speak it.

"Do you know what that says?" he asked Emma while Dan was purchasing their tickets.

"Blaidd Drwg," Emma replied.

"Do you know what that means?" Harry asked.

"No," she said as she smiled and shook her head. "I know how to pronounce it, but I never learned the language." Harry shrugged his shoulders as they walked into the cinema.

"Go pick out a seat, Harry," Dan said as they entered the theater. It was a good thing they arrived early, for now with fifteen minutes before the movie started, the auditorium was already nearly half full.

Harry lead the group down to about the middle where there was still a row mostly empty, with Dan and Emma right behind him and Hermione bringing up the rear. As Harry and Hermione sat down, Dan and Emma between them merely took off their jackets and set them in their seats.

"Popcorn for both of you? Drinks too?" Emma asked. Replies were in the affirmative. As the two headed back for the aisle, Emma nearly tripped over Hermione's leg as she tried to get past her.

"Scoot down, dear, would you?" Emma asked. "I'd hate to stumble over you and spill everything when we come back."

After moving down next to Harry, Hermione began to massage her abused shin. Harry started looking around in his seat to see if he could find either Remus or Tonks. He jumped in surprise when he saw them grinning at him in the two seats directly behind him and Hermione. He was absolutely certain they weren't there when sat down.

Remus let out a little laugh. "I told you you wouldn't see us unless you actually looked for us."

About five minutes later, Hermione started to get up but stopped when she saw that the rest of the seats on her side of the row were almost completely full. The ones on Harry's side on the other hand were still mostly empty.

"Harry, would you mind going and making sure Dad doesn't drown my popcorn with that fake-yellow seasoning salt they have? He loves that stuff, and just goes crazy with it sometimes." Harry agreed, seeing she really couldn't easily get out on her side.

As he got up, Harry couldn't help but notice that Remus and Tonks already had their popcorn. He knew for sure they hadn't had that before. How do they do that? he wondered.

Returning to the lobby, Harry found Dan and Emma waiting in the concessions queues. He went over to stand beside them. As he did, the person behind them gave him a dirty look for jumping the queue. Harry pointed to Dan and Emma, and the person held up his hands in apology.

When he joined them, Dan and Emma were talking to each other. He missed the first part of their conversation, but what he heard, it sounded like they were talking about two people, coworkers most likely considering the subject.

"I think that the two of them sharing a drink would be classified as obvious, Emma," Dan said in a tone that suggested they'd discussed this before. Harry didn't want to eavesdrop, so he tried to listen as little as possible while at the same time still paying enough attention that he could know when to safely interrupt to deliver Hermione's message.

"Maybe it's time to start being obvious," Emma replied. "They're so close you can almost feel it. And yet..." Harry smiled slightly to himself. Now he knew they were talking about two people and whatever was going on between them. From the sounds of things, he felt sorry for whoever they were, being so close and yet not knowing it. He only wished he was that close himself.

"Which is all the more reason to stay out of it," Dan reminded her. "Give them the chance to figure it out for themselves... in their own time, their own way."

Emma sighed in agreement. Harry felt now was as good a time as any to interrupt.

"Hey, Dan," Harry said. Both Dan and Emma jumped.

"For the love of... Harry, don't DO that!" Dan complained. "How long have you been standing there?" he then asked suddenly.

"I don't know, less than a minute? Hermione just wanted to make sure you didn't put any of that yellow stuff on her popcorn. She says you always put too much on."

"Told you so," Emma happily chimed. Dan glanced at Emma momentarily, but then returned to Harry.

"Okay, no yellow stuff on your popcorn. Was that all?" Harry nodded. "Okay. Would you do us a favor and grab napkins and straws for everyone? Two fewer things for us to carry."

"Harry," Emma then said hesitantly after looking around for a moment. "I just wanted to apologize for Hermione's behavior at dinner the other night. It wasn't very ladylike of her." Behind her, Harry could see Dan grin as though he felt Emma was not one to be talking.

"Oh, please don't apologize, Emma. I could tell it was an accident, and like Dan said, it is supposed to be a compliment, right?" he said. "She's hardly even hiccupped at school, so to hear that, it makes her seem... I dunno... a little more real. Believe it or not, but that made this whole summer worthwhile... the 'before I moved in' part, I mean. Moving in made this summer survivable.

"And yes, I know she would kill me slowly and painfully if I ever told anyone about it, so it'll just be our little secret," he finished, grinning, and then returned to the theater auditorium.

Dan and Emma returned with their four drinks and two large boxes of popcorn just as the movie previews were beginning to play. "Two larges are cheaper than four smalls," Dan explained.

Since they had to share the same box, several times within the first half hour of the movie, Harry and Hermione each reached for the popcorn at the same time, their hands getting in each other's way. After the second time, they felt it was becoming quite humorous. The third time it happened, Hermione decided to simply smack his hand out of her way.

Oh, she did NOT just do that! Harry said to himself. He began to watch her out of the corner of his eye. When she started to reach for the popcorn again a few minutes later, he grabbed her hand, immobilizing it. He then reached over with his other hand and took some popcorn.

Hermione, not one to be outdone, immediately grabbed that hand with her other one. They then began to struggle with each other to break free, desperately trying not to burst into laughter in the middle of the silent theater.

Only the clearing of a throat behind them snapped them out of it. They both immediately let go of each other. Harry turned and looked at Remus with a very guilty look on his face. Harry's minder raised an eyebrow in a "lecturing" sort of way, then nodded towards the movie screen.

As Harry began to turn back to the movie, his eyes dropped. In doing so, he saw something that almost made him shout out in surprise. Looking forward, Harry's mind raced. He knew there was no way he could keep this to himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Hermione had set her arm on the armrest between their seats.

He casually moved his own arm next to hers and then set it on the narrow armrest as well, intentionally pressing it against hers. He could see her move her head slightly in his direction, but it didn't seem like he'd gotten her full attention yet. He pressed a little more firmly. She finally turned slightly to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

Harry looked down at his own hand, then gently touched the back of hers. She looked down at their hands for a moment then looked back up at him. He then turned his head slightly and rolled his eyes in the direction of Remus and Tonks as he let go of her hand. Hermione waited a few moments, then snuck a glance at their minders.

She quickly looked back at the screen. Harry could see her grinning in surprise. He knew she'd seen it: Remus and Tonks were holding hands. Their hands weren't next to each other; they weren't on top of each other. They were actually holding each other's hands!

Though there was no screaming, the fact that the movie was rated '12' did not mean it didn't have its scary moments. Harry certainly didn't mind when Hermione grabbed his arm when she was startled (along with almost every other person in the audience, including himself) when the alien's biomechanical suit unexpectedly popped open on the examining table. She immediately let go and mumbled an apology as the fixated her attention back on the screen.

Aside from just being plain creepy, Harry was actually quite disturbed by the scene in the movie where the alien was speaking through and controlling one of the doctors. It was a little too reminiscent of when Voldemort had inhabited him in the Ministry that night. It also caused him to think of the Imperius Curse.

The reporter from the Prophet had come after Harry and his friends (indirectly) because of that curse. Not that the other two Unforgivables were to be taken less seriously, but the Imperius Curse probably scared Harry the most of the three. The Killing Curse was merely death; a flash of green light and it was all over instantly. The Cruciatus Curse was simply pain; excruciating to be sure, but still, just pain.

But the Imperius Curse was much more sinister than the other two in Harry's mind. A person could be made to do anything the caster wished. Murder, lies, betrayal, torture, they could all be performed remotely. A lot of people didn't have the stomach to take a life or to torture another human being. But to simply make someone else do it? That was so much easier, so much... tidier. And that was what scared him the most.

And worst of all, the "instrument" didn't even know they were doing it. From the sounds of things, most people couldn't defend against it.

Harry began to wonder about the curse. Professor Moody... erm... Barty Crouch, Jr., had shown him how throw off the curse. But therein lie the problem. Practice made perfect. He could practice his Patronus for use against dementors. He could practice stunners to incapacitate an attacker. But how could he practice throwing off that curse?

He certainly didn't plan on picking a fight with a Death Eater in the hopes they'd cast it on him. But was there another option? He'd have to discuss it with Remus after the movie.

While they waited for the ladies to "powder their noses" after the movie, Harry pulled his former professor aside. "Remus," he began, remembering the repeated requests to not call him 'Professor' anymore, "that reporter from the Prophet? I was wondering if you could tell me a little more about the Imperius Curse."

"Well, that depends on what specifically you wanted to know."

"I guess I was wondering just how 'unforgivable' is it?" Harry explained. "Suppose I wanted someone to use it on me. Would they be sent to Azkaban. Crouch used it on us in fourth year, teaching us how to throw it off. I was thinking about wanting to practice that again. But I'd need someone to cast it on me to do that."

Remus considered the question for a few moments before answering. "The Imperius is a crime against a person. If someone cast it on you, you'd have to press charges for them to be punished. There is no light that starts blinking down at Auror Headquarters anytime someone uses an Unforgivable." Harry was secretly very glad about that. As far as he knew, no one knew about his own use of the Cruciatus on Bellatrix (besides her, of course).

"However, if you were killed or in some other way incapacitated and unable to level charges, then your family or the Ministry could do it on your behalf. But if you are a willing volunteer and you don't want charges filed, then there really is little that can be done." Remus explained. Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"If you are seriously contemplating having someone perform the Imperius on you, I suggest you discuss it with Tonks first. All Aurors are taught how to resist it as part of their training. Whether they succeed of course boils down to their strength of will, but they're still all taught how. She can definitely give you some specific suggestions however on what to, or what not to do."

The two of them looked over from the isolated corner they'd moved to, to see that they were still waiting for Hermione. Remus began to smile slightly. "You know, I'll admit that thanks to not having a crucial bit of information, both Tonks and myself jumped to a hasty conclusion as to why you were always over at Hermione's house."

Both of them appeared to be equally embarrassed, though for different reasons. "That said," Remus continued, "after that little display during the movie, I must admit that if I didn't know any better, I'd almost say it looked like the two of you were flirting with each other, Harry."

Harry suddenly became very interested in the Blaidd Drwg poster on the wall beside him (even though he still had no idea how to pronounce it). "I'm the first to admit that I might have been a little premature in miserably failing my way through 'the talk,'" Remus said with a chuckle.

"But," he emphasized heavily and then lowered his voice, "let me just say that although my deductions were wrong, I still stand by my earlier statement. Hermione is a wonderful young woman, and I think you'd be hard pressed to find anyone better than her... if you're interested." Remus smiled as he watched Harry turn red again.

"And since I've embarrassed you again, let me finish it off properly. When the time does come when you feel you might want to have 'the talk,' regardless of who that special someone is, please do not hesitate to ask me. And let's just leave it at that, for now."

Thankful that Remus was letting the subject drop, Harry was about to explain that it was Hermione's fault, that she started the whole popcorn fight by slapping his hand away. As he was about to, what he was going to say suddenly sank in: Hermione was the one who started it. Truth be told, he did rather feel like he was flirting with her, again, much to the credit of Remus's observations. But now there was a new piece to the puzzle: what was she doing?

While Hermione tried to briefly explain to Remus how movie special effects worked, Harry spoke with Tonks the entire way back to the car about how to practice throwing off the Imperius. She gave him some generic advice that, based on his memories of doing it in fourth year didn't seem very helpful; he'd give them a shot though. What he did find very useful were her suggestions on how the spell should be cast upon him... the setting in which to do it, what kinds of commands should be given, etc.

Eager to focus all of his attention on this crucial bit of defense practice, Harry allowed his ponderings on the popcorn fight to be put off to the back burner... for now.

Saturday soon arrived, and a thoroughly awake Harry wandered into the kitchen to find everyone getting ready to eat breakfast.

"Rise and shine, Harry," Dan joked as Harry took his seat. "Nice of you to join us for breakfast," he said with a grin. Harry decided he wouldn't share with them the reason he took a very long, very cool shower this morning. At least he'd only had one dream this time... unlike last time. He still needed a cold shower though....

As they all began to eat, Harry could not help but notice that Emma didn't quite look up to par that morning. He also noticed Dan surreptitiously watching her (and her scowling back at him whenever she caught him doing it).

After breakfast, they all went into the living room to enjoy a slow quiet morning before deciding what to do with the rest of the day. It was very cold today. By now, the ethereal mist had spread across most of country, even though there were no new reports of dementor activity. The Muggle investigations into the deaths had finally been concluded Friday, and were published in this morning's newspaper in a small, unimportant side note.

Autopsies revealed no definitive information; the causes of death were therefore ruled as "Unknown, probable natural." With zero physical evidence of anything, it was deemed that there was virtually no chance of human involvement in their deaths. Oh, how right they were and they didn't even know it. The different Muggle medical examiners compared their findings with each other for the unusual cases. Again, with no physical evidence of anything, they ruled the eerie similarities as merely coincidence.

Stretching out on the sofa, Emma enjoyed a hot cup of tea as she relaxed. Dan's mollycoddling was addressed when she finally snapped at him when he brought her a blanket after she shivered slightly. In both of their defenses, it was rather cool in the room.

"Would you stop it?" she chided him. "It's nothing. I'm just cold. It's cold in here. The central air system is still set to 'cool' mode, not 'heat.' If you want to do something, go change the setting so the furnace comes on instead of the air conditioning not coming on."

Hermione glanced curiously at Harry, then looked expectantly at her mother.

"Oh, your father is just being his usual overprotective self again. I'm not feeling one hundred percent this morning, and he feels it necessary to pad everything now, to start pre-chewing my food for me. Honestly, dear," she said to Dan, "I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You threw up this morning," Dan replied, not backing down.

"It's nothing," she assured him. "All this cold weather, I've probably caught something. Or maybe that leftover Chinese food was a little too leftover. You're making a big deal of nothing. I hardly ever get sick."

"Exactly my point," Dan insisted. "You hardly ever get sick. I honestly can't remember the last time you were sick enough to actually be sick."

"Dan, listen to me. I'm. Fine. Just let me relax, enjoy my cup of tea, and I'll be good as new. MEN!" Emma exclaimed exasperatedly, with a hint of a smile.

Hermione returned her mother's smile. "Yeah, they do tend to have a 'saving people thing' sometimes," she said, fighting back a laugh.

"Hey now," Harry objected, also with a smile, "don't drag me into this one."

"They just can't help it," Hermione added. "Always have to rescue the damsel in distress... even if it is just a stomach bug or overly-ripe Moo shu pork."

Dan wisely did not reply, but continued to watch Emma protectively. "Fine," she eventually said. "If I don't feel better in the morning, I'll stop by the doctor or chemist at lunch, okay?" Dan agreed.

"MEN!" Emma again complained, this time more humorously.

About an hour later, when they all decided it was time to get the day properly started, Emma certainly did look much better. Before they decided how they would spend the day, Dan and Emma shared a look, then addressed Harry.

"Harry, there's something we've been meaning to ask you for quite a while, but we never really got around to it. We've talked a little with Hermione about it, but we figured we really had to go to the source."

"Mum, Dad, no. Don't do this. Harry didn't come all the way here for this," Hermione complained.

"Hush dear," Emma said with a smile. "As I'm sure you can imagine, this is really important to us, so I'll just ask."

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione said, looking embarrassed. "I tried to stop them."

"Harry, when was the last time you've been to the dentist?"

Next time...

Chapter 28. The Month that Followed, More Unexpected Tidings: Life, and Death.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, "you're reacting to all of this as if you had gotten me pregnant."

"Hermione," Harry, annoyed, replied louder than he intended, "They had SEX!"

Exactly like in the Muggle movies, Ginny's birthday party came to a complete halt as every single person in the room stopped whatever they were doing and turned to look at them. If a phonograph had been playing, the needle surely would have been scratched across the record.

A brief credit. Undoubtedly there are numerous schools of Numerology. The one I referenced in this chapter comes from The Sorcerer's Companion, by Allan Zola Kronzek & Elizabeth Kronzek.

And finally, last but certainly not least, here is another wonderful manip done by Evernight, from Chapter 25. I was truly caught off guard when I first saw this. It really is a touching picture. As of the instant I posted this, the Portkey Gallery was being flaky, so if when you click this link you can't see the picture, just try back again later. Please leave him a review if you like it. Thanks!

http://gallery.portkey.org/galleryView.php?viewDetails=943

A link to my calendar of events for the story.