Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though after HBP, I'm not sure I would want to. No, I take that back, I would want to own it, just not be the one to write it. No, I take that back too. I would want to. Then maybe HBP wouldn't have happened like that. I'll show you delusional. Oh, I'm wandering, aren't I? Where was I? Oh yes.... I'm just playing here.
A/N: No, I didn't forget about the "cliffhanger" from the last chapter, though our new housemates seem to have. Yeah, it looks as though they may have gotten slightly distracted there. Oh, how horrible for them! :-) Thanks, as always, to my beta, MapleMountain. I told you so. You keep making snarky comments and they may end up in the story. Never stop, please.
Chapter 8. Erm... Did We Forget Something?
Harry and Hermione stood silently for a few moments. The muffled voices of Dan and Emma putting groceries away downstairs seemed to be the only signs of life in the room. Harry still had his arm stretched out in front of him from when he looked at the letter, his eyes still locked on his now empty hand.
"Harry," Hermione whispered. He did not respond.
The silence was broken by the sound of a soft thump. Crookshanks had evidently followed his mistress into Harry's room and jumped up on the bed to see what had captured her attention. As Hermione slowly reached out to try to lower Harry's still-raised hand, Crookshanks suddenly mewed softly.
Harry seemed to awaken from his frozen state and turned to look at the ginger-colored cat that was now sitting on his bed, staring up at him. Crookshanks had the appearance of just having woken up from a long and restful catnap.
"Hello Crookshanks," Harry greeted the half-Kneazle. He reached down and absently started to scratch his head. Crookshanks immediately stood up on all fours and started pushing his head into Harry's hand as if demanding he not stop. As Crookshanks enjoyed a good head scratching, Harry's body began to relax from the highly tensed state he went into upon seeing the Gringotts seal.
After a few moments, Harry slowly sat down on the bed. Crookshanks made sure to not let Harry's hand get too far away from his head. Hermione, unsure of what to do, simply sat down beside Harry on his left. After staring blankly at the chair across from him, Harry started looking around the room. On the far corner of the bed, nearest the door, he saw the two unfinished thank you letters he had set there only hours earlier.
After retrieving them, he held them in his lap and stared at them for a moment. He then cleared his throat and spoke in an uneven voice.
"I need to send out my thank-you letters," he said. It sounded as though he was saying it to himself more than to anyone else.
"Harry," Hermione again whispered, trying to get his attention.
"I wrote them after I wrote yours... but... I didn't... get a chance t... to send them," he managed to get out, his voice beginning to break up. He turned and set down his unfinished letters behind him.
Hermione set down the two Gringotts letters and reached over, putting her right hand over top of Harry's left. "Harry, stop," she whispered.
Harry stopped talking and closed his eyes. After taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and stared at Hermione's hand on top of his. Crookshanks mewed again, obviously satisfied with his head scratching. He took a couple steps forward and then sat down so Harry could now scratch his back.
"We'll send your letters out this evening," Hermione promised him and then gave the back of his hand a comforting squeeze. Even though she was sitting beside him and he was still looking down, she could still see his face lighten a little.
"Thanks," he told her in a very quiet voice.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"No," he answered honestly, his voice trailing as though he hadn't finished his sentence. Much to Crookshanks disappointment, Harry stopped stroking his back and moved his right hand towards his left. He took hold of Hermione's wrist and lifted her hand off his. If he had looked at her at that very moment, he would have seen a look of disappointment to match Crookshanks; fortunately for him, he did not.
Before she had a chance to say anything though, Harry turned his left hand over, palm up, and then replaced her hand in his. "But I will be," he said, finishing the sentence he had started only two seconds earlier. He then gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and then resumed stroking Crookshanks' back. If Harry had looked at either of them at that moment, he would have seen identical looks of contentment.
A couple minutes later, Harry broke the peaceful calm that had settled upon the room. "I'm sorry," he said.
Hermione, her eyes having gone out of focus after staring intently at her right hand, suddenly looked up at Harry. He was still staring at his left hand; he seemed unwilling yet to look directly at her.
"I'm sorry," he said again. "I'm sorry for that... a couple minutes ago. Today's been the best day I can remember in a long time. I almost forgot that Sirius was gone. Then I saw the letter from Gringotts. It just sort of knocked the wind out of me," he explained. "I knew what it was... without even opening it, I just knew what it was."
"It's OK, Harry. You don't have to apologize. It's OK," Hermione reassured him.
Harry closed his eyes again and bowed his head. "I wish I could believe it was, Hermione. I really do," he whispered.
Harry felt Hermione remove her hand from his. Again, he felt cold and empty with its removal. He was surprised at how much stronger it felt this time than the last time. He stopped scratching Crookshanks' back; his eyes still closed and head bowed forward, he took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose.
"Harry, look at me," she whispered. He replaced his glasses and then turned to look at her. When he opened his eyes, he saw Hermione looking directly back at him. On her face was not a fake smile put on just for display. Instead, what he saw was a smile that seemed full of sadness. She was sad for some reason, and yet she was smiling. When he looked into her eyes, instead of finding pity and sympathy, he found acceptance and understanding.
As he studied her eyes, he also saw them as though he had just seen them for the first time. Ever since the day he first met her all those years ago, he knew she had brown eyes. But now, he noticed that her eyes were not as he assumed they always were. He simply expected that they were brown, plain and simple.
Now however, he saw that mixed in those pools of liquid milk chocolate (yes, it was lame, but as hard as he tried, he could not think of any better way to describe them) there were tiny flecks of caramel, imperfections in the color of her irises. He had never noticed that before. And yet, that uniqueness seemed to make the sight before him even more real than he might have ever expected. He simply assumed that brown eyes would be all-brown. Then again, he never had cause to study someone's eyes, so what did he know?
As he stared into her eyes, he could just barely see her smile widen in his peripheral vision. He didn't think it was possible, but he could actually see that smile translate into her eyes. As he did when he saw her smile from the sofa a couple hours earlier, he again felt comforted by that smile. He had been so afraid to not see that smile.
When he finally did see it, he felt a sensation starting in the pit of his stomach sweep through him. He was totally unprepared for the intensity of it. If he had to describe it, and for some reason he felt the need to, it reminded him most of his feelings of relief when Neville told him that Hermione still alive after being hit by Dolohov's curse in the Department of Mysteries.
Finally forcing himself to stop staring into her eyes, he noticed that she was talking. The odd thing was that he couldn't hear any of her words. He watched her talk for several seconds, not taking in a single word she said. He watched with some amusement as she continued to speak. He saw how her lips formed words that she obviously thought he was hearing; lips, he could not help but notice, that were so very... not moving?
She had stopped talking. Hermione was now looking at him with a decidedly amused expression on her face. She said something again. Harry couldn't read lips, but he was pretty sure what he saw looked familiar. Eh-Ri? he thought to himself. Why does that look familiar? he wondered. Harry! he suddenly realized. She was saying his name, trying to get his attention.
Harry snapped back to attention with a visible start. Hermione seemed slightly surprised by the suddenness of it.
"Harry? Harry! Are you all right?" she asked, looking concerned.
"Hermione," Harry exclaimed with a surprised sounding voice. "I'm so sorry. Yes... Yes, I'm fine. My mind was just a million miles away there for a second. I didn't hear anything you said. I'm so sorry."
She gave him a searching look he knew meant Are you sure you're OK? He nodded his head in assurance.
"I was saying that it's OK, Harry. You don't need to apologize for your feelings," she told him. "Look, I won't sit here and tell you that I know or understand what you're feeling right now, because I don't. I've never lost anyone who was important to me."
Hermione paused for a moment, and then again put her hand on the back of his.
"But," she continued, "I will tell you that I have read a little about it." A small smile threatened to break through Harry's guarded expression. "Do you know what I read?" she asked. Harry shook his head no.
"It said that even though there are some common stages that everyone seems to go through, in the end, everyone has to deal with it in their own way," Hermione explained to him in a very soothing voice. "I can't give you some Kwik-Spell instruction manual on how to handle this. What I can do," she promised, "is to simply be there for you, to help you, however you want me to. We all will... me, Mum, and Dad."
Crookshanks chose that very moment to meow again softly. "And Crookshanks," Hermione added, trying not to laugh at the timing. Evidently however, Crookshanks' meow was to indicate that he was bored. Since it was obvious (to Crookshanks) that his favorite one, who brought food and cleaned his litter box, and this nice one, who scratched his head and didn't threaten to curse him (unlike the red-haired one), were now paying more attention to each other than to him, he decided he would go find something else to do.
Crookshanks jumped down off the bed and headed to the door, his bottle-brush tail twitching as he looked around for another source of entertainment or attention. As Harry and Hermione watched him go out and head downstairs, Hermione jokingly added, "Or maybe not." She then returned her attention to Harry.
"If you want to sit around one day and just share memories, we will. If you want to go talk to someone who specializes in helping people with the loss of family members, we will. Honestly," she promised him after seeing the surprised look on his face. "If you want us to let you sit up here and brood for the rest of the summer, we will." Harry was entirely sure that last one was a bluff. The interesting thing however was hearing her say it like that, it was now absolutely the last thing he wanted to do.
"If," Hermione said, emphasizing the word as though this was what she thought was best, "you want to just take things one day at a time and try to have a nice, pleasant, normal holiday, we will." As Harry looked at her, he noticed that her expression had a degree of finality to it, as though this option had already been selected for him. Harry knew he should've been mad that she seemed to have already decided what was best, but as hard as he tried, he just couldn't.
"Life goes on, Harry," she continued. "What's in the past is in the past. All we can do is learn from it, and use that knowledge to decide how we want to handle today and tomorrow."
Harry stood up and walked over to the window. Looking out, he ran his hand through his always unruly hair. After letting out a deep sigh, he turned around and looked at Hermione, remembering something she said. "When did you read it?" he asked.
Hermione immediately blushed slightly and quickly looked down at the floor with an extremely guilty expression on her face. "Erm... the day before yesterday," she finally admitted after some hesitation. It was now Harry's turn to roll his eyes at her.
Harry thought back for a few seconds. "Saturday? The day I sent you the thank-you letter?" Hermione nodded, still blushing and looking down. He thought again for a second. "Before or after you received it?" he asked as he suppressed a smile, even though he was already sure of her answer.
Hermione looked back up at Harry and did her best to look as guilty as possible as she answered. "After."
"Should've known," Harry said in mock-defeated voice; he was actually quite impressed. "What would I have ever done without you?" he asked. It was intended as a rhetorical question, but Hermione, seeing an opportunity, decided to answer it anyway.
"You'd've probably gotten yourself killed by now," she said in a very guarded voice. Her eyes then narrowed as though she were going to lecture him. "Or worse, expelled," she deadpanned.
For a few deathly silent seconds, Harry and Hermione looked at each other as though they were in a staring contest. Then Harry blinked. The two of them burst out laughing as they remembered when she said that nearly five years earlier. Wiping the tears of laughter out of his eyes, Harry suddenly remembered his earlier conversation with Dan.
He walked over to the chair he sat in earlier and sat down again, facing Hermione. "You are wrong about one thing though, Hermione. I do need to apologize for something." He paused for a moment and shuffled his feet nervously. "I'm sorry for my behavior last year. I know it's a little delayed, but I just wanted to say it anyway. I'm sorry. I never really meant for any of it to hit you, but you always seemed to be there right next to me, so you know..." his voice trailed off. "What do they call that, 'friendly fire?'" he asked, trying to lighten the situation a little. After saying it, he wasn't sure if it was a good idea to make jokes like that, but it seemed like it was at the time.
Hermione looked as though she was about to say something; Harry put up his hand to stop her. "I also wanted to say 'Thank you.' There were times last year when I felt so helpless. It seemed like everyone was against me. But you were always there. Even in fourth year when Ron wasn't talking to me, you were always there." Harry had already said all this a few hours earlier, so he thought it should be easier the second time. He found however, that it was actually harder.
"Now that I think about it, I really don't know what I would've done if you weren't there. I probably would never've come out of Buckbeak's room after Ron's dad was attacked. I mean, I know it was Ginny who told me I wasn't being possessed by Voldemort," Harry conceded, "but I wouldn't have even given her the chance to talk to me in the first place if you hadn't dragged me out." He paused for a second. "I know I would've never thought to start the D.A. And I as sure as hell wouldn't've agreed to do that interview with Skeeter if you weren't there, regardless of whether it was your idea or not."
Harry silently wondered for a moment if he was intentionally tailoring what he was saying based on what Dan had said earlier. As he thought about it, he knew that Hermione had helped him out in so many ways the previous year. These, however were some of the most important to him, even to this day. He supposed it was simply a coincidence that the things that were so important to him also just happened to be the ones that Hermione got so excited about.
Without really realizing it, Harry's train of thought suddenly jumped onto a different set of tracks. "I think that's why I got so frustrated last year when the two of you were fighting all the time... you and Ron. My two best friends constantly having at each other. I think, deep down, I was afraid I might lose you if one of the rows got too big. I was scared that you might stop talking to me because Ron would still be around me. Or Ron and you, vice versa," he quickly added.
"You know, I think he fancies you," Harry suddenly blurted out, the thought seemingly coming out of nowhere. Where the bloody hell did that come from? Harry asked himself, as irritated that he actually brought it up as he was surprised.
Hermione, who seemed to have been hanging on Harry's every word, suddenly flinched at Harry's sidetrack. He expected her to be as unprepared for his unexpected outburst as he was. Hermione's slight sigh, however, only added to his own surprise.
"Yes, I've suspected as much," she admitted. "Though I think that'll be the least of his worries soon. I think there's some other witch out there with her eye on him," Hermione added with a look that suggested she knew more than she was letting on.
Harry leaned back in his chair and let out a chuckle. "Yeah, and somehow I don't think Luna's the type to take 'no' for an answer." Hermione immediately looked as though someone spoiled her big secret.
"You knew?" she asked, sounding both disappointed and impressed at the same time.
"I suspected," Harry corrected her. "But hearing you say it pretty much confirmed it for me."
"But I could've meant Lavender or Parvati or Susan Bones. How did you know I meant Luna?" she asked.
"Well, I do have eyes, you know," Harry said pretending to act hurt. He leaned forward in the chair. "I saw how she acted around him. I mean, she is a little different than everyone else, but the way she acted around Ron was different than even that. Don't tell anyone I said this, but she seemed absolutely fascinated by him."
Hermione looked at Harry as though she were appraising him. "How is it, Harry, that you can be so perceptive like that sometimes, and yet other times...?" she said, leaving the question unfinished.
"You mean other times, like with Cho?" he asked, seeing right through her. The guilty look on her face answered for her. She then raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to answer.
Harry again leaned back in the chair and then stared at the ceiling for a couple seconds, thinking. He brought his hand to his forehead, massaging his temples. "I don't know... maybe because it didn't involve me? When I saw Luna, I didn't have my own feelings for her getting in the way, playing tricks on me. I wasn't worrying about whether she did or didn't fancy me... All I saw was a friend of mine who seemed very interested in another friend of mine."
"So... what do you think about them... the two of them... together?" Hermione asked in a very innocent sounding voice.
"Call me crazy, but I think they'd go well together. I don't know why... I just do. Assuming Ron ever took a moment to notice her, that is. I'll admit, when I first met her, I thought she was really strange. But now that I've gotten to know her a little better, I really like her." Hermione seemed to again be paying very close attention to every word he said.
"What I might've then thought strange now seems unique and special. You see, this is exactly what I was talking about. If last year you had asked me the same question, but about Cho and anyone possibly getting together? I would've been tripping over myself to find a way to not like the idea. But now, I mean, I like Luna a lot, but I don't fancy her, so everything just seems easier, and makes sense. Luna certainly seems to like him, so I'm sure if he just gave her a chance... you never know...."
Hermione certainly seemed pleased about something Harry said. He noticed this and decided to ask her opinion. The fact that Ron seemed to fancy Hermione did not appear to come as any surprise to her. Since she asked him what he thought about Ron and Luna getting together, he was only naturally curious about how she felt about it.
"So Hermione, since you brought it up, what do you think about the two of them getting together?" Harry asked her. For the first time in the conversation, Hermione seemed surprised by what he said. A strange look came over her face for a second, one that Harry could not read. He was afraid maybe he had crossed some invisible line of things boys weren't supposed to ask girls. Whatever she may have been feeling, Harry could not detect any signs of anger. In fact, if anything, she seemed happier than she had been since Harry first mentioned Ron.
"I think they could go well together. You're right though, of course. Ron would first have to take half a second to actually look at her, and see the real Luna... the way you do," she added, almost as an afterthought. A slightly pink hue appeared on her face for a second or two. Harry had no idea what that was all about. She didn't appear to be out of breath and he couldn't think of any reason why she might be embarrassed.
"If he ever got beyond that," Hermione continued, "I think there's some real potential there. And that, I think, is another thing that Luna has going for her. How do I say this?" Hermione mused to herself, obviously trying to find a delicate way of saying whatever she was about to. "Forgive me Harry, I know he's your best mate, and he's my friend too. But sometimes, Ron can be... high maintenance." Harry smirked. Hermione visibly relaxed seeing Harry's reaction.
"Sometimes, he can just be so..." Hermione trailed off, trying to find the right words.
"Yeah, I know," Harry agreed. "Pigheaded?" he volunteered.
"Your word, not mine," Hermione said quickly in defense. "I know that some people out there just could not stand to be in a relationship like that where the two sides were constantly butting heads like that." Harry was quite sure he knew who she meant by 'some people.'
"And then we met Luna last year. I mean, she's obviously been here all along; we just never really got a chance to meet her. But she seemed to already know you and Ron. Sure, who doesn't know who Harry Potter is-no offense," Hermione quickly added. Harry shook his head to indicate that none was taken. "But for her to already know Ron? I don't know, but it makes me wonder if she's had her eye on him for a while," Hermione reasoned.
"And if that's the case, then surely she must've seen how well we get along," Hermione said, pointing to herself, "and she must've seen what happened in the beginning of the tournament," waving her hand towards Harry.
"If she sees all that and still is interested in him, then I think she truly is something special. She's seen through the outer layers and already knows what lies beneath... what you and I both know is there." Hermione paused for a minute, shifting her position slightly. "But, like you said... who knows? If he got to know her better, maybe he'd start arguing with her too. I'm sorry, but if it were me, I just couldn't be in a relationship like that where we were always fighting. But if he doesn't... then I think he has a real shot at something good."
Something about what Hermione said caused a strong surge of hope to rush though Harry. He had no idea why, but he decided to take a guess at it. Almost without even realizing it, he said under his breath, "Yeah, it'd be nice if some of us did."
Hermione quickly pounced on what he said. "What do you mean by that?" she asked. Harry's sudden panic attack that he might have said the wrong thing diminished when he realized her voice seemed inquisitive, not accusatory.
"Well, look at us," Harry tried to explain. Hermione's eyes went wide as though she were afraid of what he said. "You, me, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Neville... I mean, look at what we've been through together." She seemed to relax a little. "You'd think that people who've been through what we have should deserve to find something nice like that. But look at us. I'm not seeing anyone. You're not seeing anyone. You're not, are you?" Harry found himself asking unexpectedly. He'd never asked her about her love life before, but he assumed he'd hear about it if there was some development on that front.
Hermione shook her head. Unexplainably worried that he might not have noticed something like that, he continued, feeling a little better. "Ron's not. Luna's not, as far as I know. Neville's not. The only one who is, is Ginny, but she seems to be rotating though them right now. You've got six lost souls here, and if any of us could find something nice for themselves, so much the better. Especially now that this war might be picking up."
Hermione's expression seemed far away. After a few seconds, she focused her attention back on Harry. When she finally spoke, her voice had something of a dreamy quality to it. Quite frankly, if Harry hadn't been watching her speak, he might have thought it was Luna talking, rather that Hermione.
"Yes, it would be..." She cleared her throat then hastily added, "Nice, if some of us could find something." If Harry didn't know better, he would've thought she looked a little embarrassed. "'Six lost souls'?" she asked with a curious look on her face.
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I heard my aunt say something like it once. I think she read it in one of her 'scarlet woman' books," Harry said with smirk, remembering what Ron had said a few years earlier,
And on that note, the wonderful little discussion Harry had been having with his best friend suddenly ended, simply because neither knew what to say next. Hermione cleared her throat again, rubbing her hands on her knees as if to just do anything to keep her hands busy. "You said you had letters that needed delivering?" she asked.
Harry nodded, pointing at his trunk where the rest of his completed thank-you letters were. "I'm going to go downstairs and help start dinner," Hermione said. She walked over to the closet, sliding opening one of the two doors. "Why don't you start getting yourself settled in? There should be enough hangers here for everything." Reaching behind the other still-closed door, she pulled out an empty laundry basket, showed it to Harry, and then put it back behind the door. "Just put anything you wanted washed in there. We usually do laundry on the weekend. Did you buy enough to last until then?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded.
Hermione walked by the dresser where Hedwig's cage sat, glancing at the owl which was now napping. Not wanting to wake her, she waited until she was on the other side of the room next to a desk before speaking again. "How are you on owl treats?" she asked.
Harry had to think for a moment. While he had kept her adequately fed and watered, Harry really had otherwise neglected Hedwig since returning to Privet Drive. "I... still have half a bag I had left over from school," Harry admitted, feeling quite guilty. Fortunately, Hermione didn't seem to notice; she didn't know how many treats he should've had left.
"OK, well, let me know if you need any more," Hermione told Harry. "I still have most of the bag I bought for Hedwig in case she showed up here." She looked at the desk next to her, and then looked expectantly at Harry for a couple seconds. "While you're unpacking, you can put your school books here. Don't give me that look, Harry," Hermione warned.
"You didn't really expect that you could live with me and be allowed to not do your homework, did you?"
Harry noticed she had a bit of a sparkle in her eyes as she said that. He couldn't quite place it, but it was there nonetheless. Hermione wouldn't joke about homework, would she? He shook his head.
"Good," Hermione said, looking quite pleased. "But don't worry. I'll be generous. I'll wait until tomorrow before I start reminding you about your homework." The sparkle returned, Harry noticed; if anything, it looked mischievous. Hermione then looked around the room, checking to see if she overlooked anything. Her eyes landed on the night stand next to the bed.
"Oh, and before I forget," Hermione added. "I put a couple of hooks on the underside of the table next to your bed. It's perfect for keeping your wand close at hand, but still out of sight. With all the preparations the headmaster made to make it possible for you to stay here, I don't expect any trouble. That said, however... you know... 'Constant Vigilance,'" Hermione explained.
"Yeah, I know." Harry agreed. He decided it didn't sound quite as annoying when Hermione said it in her normal voice as compared to Moody's repeated shouts. Hermione smiled and then turned to the door. When she was nearly at the door, Harry suddenly turned to look back at her and decided something very quickly.
"Hermione?" he called.
She stopped and turned towards him, with the same happy look on her face as before. "Yes, Harry?"
Harry walked over to her very quickly. He put his hands on her shoulders. Trying to summon all the gratitude he felt, he looked deep into her eyes. "Seriously," he assured her. "Thank you. For everything," he said, and then Harry Potter did something he had never done before, and scooped her up into a great big hug. Hermione had always been the one to initiate the hugs.
Harry could feel her tense for a fraction of a second as though she had been completely taken by surprise. By time he registered that feeling though, he felt her relax and return the hug. Harry hadn't intended to, but with his face buried in Hermione's hair, he could not help but smell it as he took in a breath. As he inhaled, the fragrance of whatever shampoo she used slowly began to seep into his brain. He didn't know exactly what it was, but it was floral, and very relaxing... and very familiar. It reminded him of the sample bottle of bubble bath he found back in the bath store. That, of course, reminded him of the bath in the prefect's bathroom back at Hogwarts.
Harry's face suddenly went bright red and he was immediately grateful that his face was hidden by Hermione's hair, where she could not see it. He hadn't actually pictured anything in his mind, but simply associating Hermione and the prefect's bath together in the same thought was enough to make him so embarrassed that he felt as though his face were on fire. When he was reasonably sure the blazing inferno on his face had died down somewhat, he released her from the hug. Not wanting her to see how many different shades of red his face could turn, he turned around as quickly and as casually as he could. He prayed his body wouldn't further betray him with any other physical reactions.
Looking away, he could not help but see her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. He watched her as she watched him, again as though she were trying to decide something. She then noticed that he was watching her through the mirror. She turned her head to look directly at him, through the mirror.
"Dinner should be ready in an hour, hour and a half. Once you're unpacked, you can come down and help if you want. You don't have to of course... you're our guest. But you can... if you want, that is." She looked very hopeful as her voice trailed off. Harry smiled; Hermione smiled back then turned and headed down the stairs.
Once she had left, Harry turned and made his way to his trunk and shopping bags. As he opened his trunk, he could hear Hermione downstairs talking to Emma. "So Mum, what're we making?" Even thought it had carried all the way from the kitchen downstairs, he could still hear how cheerful her voice sounded. After that, they must have lowered their voices since he could no longer clearly hear what they were saying.
A half hour later, Harry had all of his clothes unpacked. His robes and his other sets of school clothes, as well as all the clothes the Grangers had purchased for him were all now neatly hanging up in his closet. All of his dirty laundry was tucked away in the basket, waiting to be washed. He then went through the remaining items in his trunk.
As he rummaged around in the trunk, he came across a few old Every Flavor Beans and an empty Chocolate Frog box. "Ron..." Harry muttered to himself as he threw away the empty box. Finding a few more beans, he decided now was as good a time as any to completely empty it and see what other surprises, good or bad, he found.
Pulling out his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map, he decided they would be secure in the dresser for the time being. To be safe though, he wrapped the map in the cloak and put it in the bottom-most dresser drawer where no one would have noticed it unless they actually touched it.
He also retrieved the completed thank-you letters from his trunk, setting them next to Hedwig's cage. Seeing as she was still napping, he retrieved an owl treat from his bag and quietly wedged it between two of the bars of the cage, a nice little present for her when she woke up.
Finally, the last things remaining in his trunk (at least of the things that were supposed to be in there) were his supplies of parchment, ink, and quills, as well as his school books. He looked over at the desk, and then at where Hermione stood a few minutes earlier.
Hermione and her parents had taken Harry into their home. They offered him a room of his own, a bed of his own, a closet, desk, and dresser of his own. They did this freely and willingly, without any thoughts of the loss of the extra space (at least as far as he could tell). If taking things one day at a time, helping cook dinner, and doing his homework were all that were expected of him in return, then he decided he was more than willing to pay that price.
And so, probably for the first time in his life, Harry happily pulled his books and school supplies out of his trunk and set them on the desk, ready to be used. Once everything was set out, he looked at his books and smirked. Well, he thought to himself, I've got until tomorrow at least before I have to start. Returning to the trunk, he carried it over to the trash bin and lifted it up, shaking out the remaining trash (a few more beans and empty candy wrappers).
Harry looked around the room, just as Hermione had done. Everything seemed to be in its place. With a strange feeling of accomplishment, Harry then went downstairs. Walking into the kitchen, he joined Hermione, Dan, and Emma in helping prepare dinner. All throughout the preparation, Hermione and Emma kept Harry and Dan busy chopping vegetables and preparing the side dishes while they worked on the main entree. They did their best to not let him see what they were making. The smells wafting over promised that it would be worth the wait.
A short while later, dinner was ready and the four of them started bringing serving dishes full of food into the dining room and setting them on the table that Dan and Harry had set. When everything was nearly in place, Dan discreetly nudged Harry's arm and raised one eyebrow, as if to say "Watch this."
As Emma moved to go sit down, Dan stopped her and then pulled out the chair for her. Once she was seated, he helped push her chair in. He then went and sat down opposite her. Hermione, who had been the last one in the dining room with a bowl of mashed potatoes (roasted garlic mashed potatoes, Harry would soon discover), caught Harry's eye after observing that scene and rolled her eyes and shook her head with an amused smile.
Harry, not wanting to be outdone by Dan, innocently kept himself busy as he delayed returning to his seat. When Hermione set down the potatoes, she made for her seat. Harry then quickly stepped over and stopped her, pulling out the chair for her as Dan had done, then helped push it in once Hermione was seated. He then finally took his seat across from her. So that's why he insisted I leave the chairs pushed in, Harry realized as he remembered what Dan had asked him to do while they were setting the table.
Emma, who had been watching intently, let out a small laugh. She looked from Dan in front of her to Harry on her left. "Such gentleman," she said in a sarcastic voice, even though it was obvious she was highly amused. "So, which one of you put the other up to that, hmmm?"
Dan and Harry looked at each other with puzzled, very innocent-looking expressions on their faces. Though neither had intended to, they both answered identically and simultaneously. "I don't know what you're talking about."
With their duplicate responses, all four of them immediately started laughing. After catching their breaths, they all looked eagerly at the food waiting for them. At Dan's proclamation to "Tuck in!" they all started loading up their plates.
Whatever Hermione and Emma had made, it was absolutely wonderful, Harry decided. It was some sort of stuffed chicken breast dish. He knew there was cheese in it along with many herbs and spices. There was also some kind of tomato-based sauce that had been placed on top of the crispy breadcrumb coating.
At one point in the dinner, Harry had asked Hermione and Emma what exactly the dish was. "A Granger family specialty, as requested," was all Emma said.
"We could tell you," Hermione added, as Harry turned to look at her, "but then I'd have to Obliviate you." He knew she was joking, but he decided this dinner was too nice to risk forgetting about, so he agreed anyway.
After dinner, Emma was the first to stand up. She looked Harry in the eye and told him, "Everyone takes their own dishes to the dishwasher." Seeing him nod, she added, "But if you really want to help later, I'll let you press the start button once it's full. How does that sound?" Smiling, Harry nodded.
As Harry walked over to the dishwasher with his plate, silverware, and glass, he looked out the window over the sink. It was now early evening, but there were already storm clouds on the horizon. It promised to be another cool refreshing evening, the last one for the foreseeable future, however.
Harry remembered hearing a brief weather forecast on the radio during the car ride home from shopping. They said that... well, he couldn't remember what exactly they said. I'm a wizard, not a weatherman, he said to himself. All he knew was that whatever had been causing the storms was beginning to break up, which would mean the evenings would become hot and muggy as they had been before. Fortunately for Harry, his new home was air conditioned, so no matter how miserable it was outside, he was sure to find a comfortable, inviting environment inside.