Count Me In

KesleyPotter

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 27/07/2005
Last Updated: 27/07/2005
Status: completed

If heartaches and tears and shadows of doubt Are part of the deal, you can count me out But if you're talking about a game I can win You can count me in A tale of love, a tale of hope, of trust, and of dispair. This is the tale of Harry and Hermione.

Chapters

1. Count Me In

1. Count Me In

If heartaches and tears

And shadows of doubt

Are part of the deal,

You can count me out.

But if you're talking about

A game I can win,

You can count me in.

~Count Me In, Deana Carter

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was your typical September night, really late--so late it was early. Most people with any common sense were asleep in their beds. I, however, was asleep in the common room.

Please understand this. I did not intend to fall asleep in the common room. I did not intend to fall asleep at all. I was up really late because I was working on my homework. The sad thing was, it was a Friday night--Saturday morning, really--and the homework wasn't due until the following Wednesday. That Saturday also happened to be my sixteenth birthday, but that was just a meaningless coincidence.

At the time, though, I wasn't aware that I was asleep. I was right in the middle of this really amazing dream, and it seemed so realistic that I didn't quite realise the truth yet.

It was one of those confusing dreams with everyone you ever knew crowding into it. Professor McGonagall played the bagpipes as Neville and Ginny, Ron and Luna danced a rousing jig--I think the song was Ratlin Bog. The little Creevey brothers threw handfuls of Weasleys' Wildfire Whizbangs at Snape, Filch, Malfoy and the other Slytherins, Fudge, and Umbridge, who all ran for cover behind a pack of centaurs duelling a wounded unicorn. Hagrid threw a softball for Fang to chase, and Grawp threw boulders for Fluffy to chase. Death Eaters tossed glass balls containing prophecies to one another over the heads of the Order of the Phoenix, and both Fang and Fluffy, no longer interested in Grawp or Hagrid, jumped around trying to catch them, barking the whole time. Charlie Weasley engaged in a game of Wizard's Chess against a Hungarian Horntail while Bill tried to untie Fleur Delacour from an underwater statue where she was surrounded by merpeople and grindylows.

Suddenly I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Hermione," said a soft, quiet voice.

I knew who it was without even turning around. I had heard the voice so much in my life, not to mention my dreams, that I "knew the sound". A smile crossed my face. I turned around, but there was no one there. Oh, no! My first frantic thoughts screamed that he had been captured, injured, killed. Frightened, I turned towards the Death Eaters, who were still throwing prophecies around but had begun throwing, in a scene reminiscent of The BFG, something that looked vaguely like a person.

I started to run forward, calling his name desperately, wanting to save him. But the pressure on my shoulder was there again, this time accompanied by a gentle shake, and the voice came again, a little more insistent. "Hermione!"

My eyes snapped open. I still had my face pressed into the book, and it disoriented me for a moment. Raising my head a little, I saw Harry sitting next to me, concern written all over his face.

"Hermione, are you okay?" he asked me in the same quiet tones he'd used to call my name.

I nodded and sat up, feeling my face grow a little hot. "I'm fine. I..." I glanced down at my book and gingerly touched my cheek, where a couple of damp curls clung stubbornly. "Was I asleep?"

Harry nodded. "Sorry I woke you up. It's just that you looked like you were having a nightmare. Sounded like it, too." He raised his hand like he was going to brush one of the chestnut strands of hair off my face, but stopped himself and lowered his hand.

"No, it's all right," I assured him. What was? I wondered to myself. Brushing my cheek? Waking me up? "I was...it was kind of confusing." Something he'd said registered suddenly. "Was I yelling something?"

Harry hesitated, then nodded. "You were...you kept calling a name, over and over and over."

I blushed a little. "Sorry." I brushed a couple of stray curls off my face and changed the subject a little. "Is something wrong?"

Harry shook his head. "No, no, nothing's wrong. It's just..." He half-glanced out the window. "Would you...would you come and take a quick walk with me? There's something outside I want to show you."

I gave him a strange look and checked my watch. "Harry, it's four in the morning. We'll get in trouble if we're caught."

"No, we won't," Harry told me. "I've cleared everything with Dumbledore."

Yet another strange look from me. "You've been planning this?"

Harry looked like a trapped animal, but nodded. "Coming?"

Okay. Curiosity was eating me up. I had to know what it was he wanted to show me. And besides, I kind of welcomed the chance to take a walk with him. "Okay."

Harry stood up and took my hand. (My heart did a sort of backflip into my stomach.) Together, we left the common room and ran through the castle, moving quietly to avoid attracting undue attention; although we had permission, we didn't want to be caught by, oh, say, Peeves.

The cool night air felt good on my face as Harry and I slipped out the castle doors. He led me partway across the grounds and stopped.

I was a little confused. "Harry, what...?"

"You'll see," he promised. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

Something flew down towards us out of the sky. I gripped Harry's arm tightly, but he didn't seem too concerned. When the whatever-it-was landed, I saw that it was Buckbeak. I relaxed and released Harry.

We bowed to the hippogriff, and after a couple seconds it bowed back. I was even more confused now, though. I could see Buckbeak any time--why (I checked my watch again) five in the morning particularly?

I suddenly noticed that Harry had approached the creature and was clambering onto its back. "C'mon, Hermione," he coaxed. "Climb on!" He held out his hand to help me on.

I swallowed. "Erm...Harry? The...the last time we flew on Buckbeak, I...didn't like it. I was terrified, to say the least. I can't get on him." I was positive I would fall off and die.

Harry was still holding out his hand. "It'll be all right, Hermione. I won't let you fall." He suddenly smiled; it was a true, sincere smile. "And if you do, I'll catch you."

Okay, here's the thing. Harry hadn't smiled--really, sincerely, honestly smiled--since June, since Sirius died. I had always loved it when he smiled; it made me feel warm and safe. I couldn't bear to see that smile fade. And besides, the way he reassured me, I believed him. I smiled back and took his hand.

Harry helped me onto Buckbeak's back. I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist and drew breath. Harry nudged the hippogriff with his heels, and we took off.

I couldn't help but notice that it wasn't quite as terrifying this time around. Maybe it was because I knew ahead of time what was coming. Maybe it was because we weren't involved in a desperate race against time to save an innocent man. Maybe it was because Buckbeak wasn't in danger of being executed--and us along with him--if we were caught.

A little later, we landed in the mountains opposite Hogwarts. Harry slid off, helped me dismount, and tethered Buckbeak to a tree. Then he turned to me.

"We're going to need to climb up a bit," he told me. "It shouldn't take very long, I promise."

The two of us headed up the path carefully. The sky hadn't lightened very much as we ascended the peak. Harry took my hand and helped me over the last, difficult bit. (My heart did another backflip.)

We stood at the top of one of the tallest mountains, Harry resting his hand lightly on my shoulder. "Any minute now," he said quietly, almost reverently, glancing at his watch.

We waited a few seconds more. (As you might have guessed, I was in no hurry for the moment to end.) Then, all of a sudden, the eastern horizon was shot with pale orange.

"Here it comes," Harry said, sounding somewhat pleased.

I was astounded. After the orange came a darker orange, then an even darker orange. The few clouds in the sky turned bright pink and pale purple. And then, all of a sudden, up came something red (and I mean red). I gasped and gripped Harry's hand. "Oh, what is it?" I breathed.

"The sunrise," he answered.

I had never seen a sunrise so beautiful, so bright, so...so perfect. The colours were glorious and clear, the atmosphere was crisp and clean. Perhaps it was because of the temperature, perhaps it was the particles in the air, perhaps it was the "close-clinging damp" that sprinkled the grass. What I thought--what I will always think--is that the whole reason it was so beautiful was that I was seeing it from that mountaintop, just Harry and me.

Harry seemed to share my thoughts. "I've never seen a sunrise so beautiful," he said softly. He turned to me and gave me a gentle smile. "Maybe it's because you're watching it with me."

I smiled back. "Harry...thank you. That was...it was beautiful. The sunrise, I mean."

Harry's smile deepened. "I had it ordered up special just for you."

I chuckled shyly. "Thank you double."

Harry chuckled shyly as well. All at once he did something I'd never known him to do: he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Hermione."

I felt my face grow hot; I know I was beet red. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I threw my arms around his neck. Harry hugged me back. We both drew back slightly, and I looked up into his bright green eyes. He touched my chin lightly, raising my face to his, and kissed me again, this time on the lips--my first real kiss.

I knew it wouldn't last--the kiss, I mean. I knew we'd eventually have to let go of each other and return to Hogwarts. But for right now, with the sun rising in the distance and the lake shining below, time stood still and my world revolved around him.

~~~

"Gosh, Ginny, it was..." I was searching for the right words. "It was amazing! I mean, the sunrise was just...oh, gosh, it was like magic!"

"Hermione." Ginny fixed me with her best I-can't-believe-you looks. "That wasn't what I asked and you know it. What I meant was, what was it like?"

It was a little later that morning. Harry and I had shared a small, early and semi-private breakfast, where we escaped the notice of maybe twenty out of twenty-two people. Of course, the two people who noticed were probably going to make sure he whole school knew about "us" by noon. Then I had retreated to Gryffindor tower, while Harry headed out to the Quidditch pitch looking for Ron, and been instantly accosted by Ginny, who immediately wanted to know where I'd been that morning.

She was sitting cross-legged on my bed, raptly attentive, eyes shining. I was pacing a little, too excited to sit down. But when she asked me that last question, I had to. I joined her on the bed.

"Ginny, it was...it was perfect," I said softly. "For a minute I was flying past the stars on silver wings. I really can't explain it...it just was."

Ginny looked at me as one might look at a pop icon--or at an older sister, which I kind of am to her. "Gosh. I guess I'd understand if any of the guys I liked were the real thing, huh?" She looked a little wistful. "What's it like? Knowing that he really and truly loves you, I mean?"

I hesitated, then said, "Let me put it this way. You know all that sappy romantic claptrap they use in books? Things like 'It's all the more beautiful because you're here' and 'I picked this sunset out just for you'?"

Ginny nodded with a grimace. "Oh, yeah. First-aid devices to induce vomiting."

I smiled a little and nodded. "Well...I know why they use it now. It's just...natural to speak that way. And when he says it...it's perfectly beautiful."

Ginny stared at me open-mouthed. "Wow."

Just then the door flew open, and Parvati and Lavender burst in. Ginny jumped up guiltily, but they hardly seemed to notice the redhead.

"So, is it true?" Parvati blurted, plunking herself down on her bed.

"Tell us everything," Lavender begged, throwing herself onto her own bed.

Ginny and I looked at each other and laughed. She rejoined me on the bed, and I started the tale over again.

"Oh, that's so romantic," Lavender sighed in ecstasy when I finished.

"Yeah," Parvati added. "You know, I always knew you two would get together some day. I mean, you've been head over heels for him since the first day you met him."

"And it was pretty obvious, even when he was chasing Cho, that he was crazy about you," Lavender added. "I was afraid there was no hope when he asked Cho to Hogsmeade and she said yes, but everything worked out the way it was supposed to."

"And in the Department of Mysteries last year," Ginny added softly, "he was always so worried about you...Neville told me that when you were knocked out, he was afraid he'd lost Harry, too...it was like all the life drained out of him."

I'm sure I was positively crimson by this time. "Gee, you...you could tell all of that?"

"Honey, we could tell a lot more than that," Lavender told me. "We know all that boy-girl stuff."

"And it doesn't hurt that I'm the first Seer Hogwarts has seen in quite some time," Parvati admitted.

Lavender and Ginny started laughing. Parvati joined in. After a second, I did too.

~~~

I bet you think I'm going to tell you that Harry and I spent every waking moment of the next few days together. We didn't. We spent just the same amount of time together as always, which was actually quite a lot already. And we didn't act any differently either. That's the great thing about falling in love with your best friend--you're used to them and know what to say or how to act, so there's no need to act any differently. The way Ron was acting, though, you'd think we spent all day snogging on the couch or giving each other puppy-dog eyes or something. I couldn't figure out why--he kept giving us these weird looks when we talked to him, and he kept avoiding us. Ginny didn't know what was going on any more than we did.

"I'll talk to him," Harry promised that Wednesday evening when I finally voiced my curiosity. "I can't for the life of me figure out why he's acting like this."

"Maybe he’s afraid he'll be left out," I suggested.

"Or maybe he's just jealous that Harry's got a girlfriend and he doesn't," Ginny speculated.

"Well, I'll try to find out," Harry said.

~~~

A little bit later, Ginny and I were sitting downstairs. I'd finally given up on the house-elves--as Harry had pointed out, of course Dobby had wanted to be freed, he worked for the Malfoys--and I was tired of knitting anyway, but I had taken up cross-stitching over the summer. The point of all that was that I was working on a sampler. I'd taught Ginny how to knit before putting down my needles, and she was knitting a scarf. The fire crackled and popped. Ginny's needles clicked gently. My needle punctured the cloth stretched taunt by the embroidery hoop, making a soft plunk sound. We were chatting blithely about classes. I was giving her a few pointers on Colour-Changing Charms when Harry came over to join us. I looked up and gasped. "Oh, Harry! What happened?" I asked softly, not calling attention to the three of us. Ginny looked up and stabbed herself with one of her knitting needles.

There was a large purple bruise on the left side of his face. His cheek was cut and bleeding, and a web-like crack latticed his the left lens of his glasses. He didn't tell us what had happened; he just pulled off his glasses and repaired them.

I set down my sampler and reached out a trembling hand to touch his cheek. "What happened?" I repeated. All sorts of fears awoke in my mind.

Harry swallowed and looked down at his lap. "He hit me," he said in an almost inaudible voice.

"What?" Ginny and I asked in unison, for two entirely different reasons.

"He hit me," Harry repeated, a little louder but still quiet. He wouldn't look at us.

Maybe I was jumping to conclusions, but there was only one "he" I could think of at the time, and I couldn't believe he would do something like that. "Ron hit you?"

Harry swallowed again and nodded.

Ginny gasped. "But...but why?" she squeaked. "I thought...I mean..."

Harry sighed slightly and continued staring at his shoes. "He...well, I went up to talk to him, like I said I would. He snapped at me a couple of times, and finally I asked him what was wrong. He told me that I was. He said I was being selfish."

"Doing what?" I demanded. "Being in love?"

"He didn't have a problem with you going out with Cho," Ginny spoke up timidly.

Harry shook his head. "He didn't say, but I guess that, yeah, he's got a problem with us for some reason. Anyway..." He swallowed a third time. "He said I had to choose between the two of you. I told him I couldn't do that--I couldn't make that kind of choice. He accused me of choosing love over friendship, and when I tried to calm him down he hit me."

"With what?" I asked uncertainly. I wasn't sure how sharp his fingernails were.

"His fist," Harry answered quietly. Looking away, he added almost inaudibly, "...the first time."

"The first time?" Ginny and I squeaked in chorus.

"How many times did he hit you?" Ginny asked indignantly. I dreaded the answer. Once was bad enough.

"Three times," Harry answered quietly. "The first time with his fist, the second with the flat of his hand, and the third time with a book."

Ginny put her hands over her mouth. I slid down the sofa to sit a little closer to Harry. "What did you do?" I asked quietly, putting my hand over his.

He shook his head. "I left."

I noticed the barely veiled threat of tears in his voice. "Just like that?"

"Hermione, what could I do?" he asked me, and now I could hear the tears in his voice for certain. "I don't know why he was acting the way he was, but if he doesn't want me around..." He broke off. A single tear dropped out of his emerald green eyes and wended its way down his cheek.

"Oh, Harry," I said softly. I put my arms around him, embroidery forgotten. He leaned his head on my shoulder and started to cry.

The bustle of daily life went on behind us, and after a couple of seconds Ginny resumed her knitting. I sat on the sofa with Harry and rocked him until his tears subsided and he was able to calm down. He gave me a weak smile, reassuring me that he was okay now.

All the same, he didn't return to his dormitory that night. I went downstairs in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep and found him sitting on the couch right in front of the fire, chin in his hands, staring into the flames meditatively.

"Harry?"

He looked up and quickly arranged his far-too-serious face into a somewhat sincere smile. "Oh, hi, Hermione."

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked him, coming down the steps. I was wearing my old red flannel nightgown, as I'd sort of been in bed. He was still wearing the clothes he'd changed into after class, a pair of khaki trousers and the sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted for him our fourth year.

He shook his head. "You?"

I shook my own head. "D'you want some company?"

He moved over on the seat and gave me a half smile. "Sure."

I slipped across the room and joined him, leaning my head on his shoulder and drawing my feet up onto the sofa. He put his arm around me. We just sat like that for a while. He didn't say anything to me, but he didn't need to. I understood anyway.

After a while, he looked over at me. "Mione?"

I looked up. "Mmm?"

He bit his lip. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"I was...I don't know," I admitted. "I just...had this creepy feeling. It was like...like I don't know what. Dad would've called it premonition, but I've never been very big on that. You know how I feel about divination and fortune-telling, but..."

"But this time it seems real?" he said softly. "I felt it, too. I think something's going to happen. I don't know why. But I think we're going to be all right."

"Just as long as we're together," I said softly, snuggling up next to him. He held me a little tighter as the fire died slightly. "We can handle anything."

Harry rubbed my back a little. "Hey, Mione?"

"Mmm?"

"You don't mind if I call you Mione, do you?"

"No, of course not," I assured him. And funnily enough, I didn't. Mother called me Mione when I was really little, but I hated it. When she said it, it sounded more like "mini", like I was small and insignificant. Harry saying it sounded like I was his, like I actually belonged somewhere and meant something to someone.

"I'm glad," Harry murmured. He stroked my hair absently. "I'm glad."

~~~

When I got home that summer, I saw and spoke to my mother for the first time in about a year.

(Okay, I'm going to pause for a second here since you're probably thinking "WHAT?!!" in much the same way I did when I finished the last book in the Narnia series. The reason I skipped straight from September to June is that nothing terribly important to this story happened in that time period. Obviously, Harry ran into Death Eaters and narrowly escaped death at the hands of Voldemort yet again, but nothing happened to "us" beyond going to Hogsmeade together and falling even more deeply in love. As clichéed as that sounds. And, obviously, we made up with Ron.)

It was my dad who picked me up from the train station. I gave Harry a quick hug, then climbed into the car with my dad. I always could talk to my dad better than my mother--I'm my daddy's little girl, I guess. So as we drove away, I told him all about Harry. Dad had the same reaction that Lavender and Parvati did--"Took you long enough!" he chuckled--and told me the story of how he and my mother had met and become engaged. Then I told him what Ron had done.

Dad looked over at me as we stopped at a red light. "Are you still fighting with him?" he asked me gently.

I shook my head. "No, he made up with us--sort of--but we're kind of on tenterhooks around each other. I don't think he trusts Harry the way he used to anymore."

Dad smiled sadly in understanding. "Did you ever find out why he was acting that way?" he asked me.

"Ginny calls it BBS--Big Brother Syndrome. He thinks of me as his little sister, and he's kind of irate that I started dating without checking with him first. More than that, he was afraid he'd be left out. He was worried we'd forget about him, which is why he said we were being selfish...does that make sense?"

Dad nodded thoughtfully and gave me a small smile.

~~~

I discovered very suddenly that my parents had moved. Dad pulled up to a new house and explained that it was more convenient. "We've picked out the best room for you, sweetie, but you can arrange it to suit. Sorry we didn't tell you, but we had no way to reach you."

It was fine with me. Everything else was exactly where it used to be in the old house. And I didn't mind the move so much. Mum wasn't home yet, which was even better. Entering the kitchen, I fixed tea, just the way Dad and I like it. We were enjoying ourselves and discussing the books I'd read that year. I had just told him the basic plot of a book called Of Mice and Men, which is full of American vernacular and therefore rather hard to comprehend (I understand that even Americans have trouble deciphering it) when Mum walked in.

"Hello, Rob," she said cheerfully, giving him a kiss. Then she glanced at me and made a big show of snapping her fingers. "Darn. You showed her where we live now."

She meant it to be a joke. I think. It sounded just a little too serious. "Gee, Mum, glad to see you too."

Mum laughed. "Welcome home, Tabby."

I grimaced inwardly. Mum has this thing for old American sitcoms like Cheers and Happy Days and Get Smart and I Dream of Jeannie. But her favourite is Bewitched. The main character of that show is a witch named Samantha, which is my mother's full name. Samantha has a baby named Tabitha (who is also a witch), so when I started at Hogwarts Mum started calling me Tabitha. Dad calls me Talitha instead, usually when I'm upset. I don't mind it too much--actually, I kind of like the names--but when Mum starts calling me Tabby it gets a little irritating.

Dad turned to me brightly. "So, what did George do when he found Lennie?"

"Well, first he distracted him, and then he shot him in the back of the head."

Crash!

Dad and I jumped up. Mum had dropped one of her bags of groceries. I noticed a broken jar of jelly.

"Sam?" Dad asked anxiously, running over to her. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Is he in prison, at least?" my mother asked, her face white as death, her voice not her own.

It took a second for me to realise this question was directed at me. "Is who in prison, Mum?"

"Your friend...or your friend's brother...whichever one George is," Mum answered in that strange voice.

I frowned at her. "Now why would Geo--oh," I said suddenly, realising at what point Mum had come into the conversation. "No, Mum, I wasn't talking about George Weasley. We were talking about a book by John Steinback--you know, Of Mice and Men."

"Oh," Mum said. "Well, that's good." Things would have been fine if she'd just left it at that, but she added, "For a minute I thought you'd put your lot in with the devil again."

My eyes narrowed. "Again? When have I put my lot in with the devil before?"

Dad rolled his eyes. "Now, Sam, she just got home. Can't you--"

"When you were hanging out with that awful Piers Polkiess that one time. Remember that?"

"You made me hang out with him because you were best friends with his mother!"

"And then there was the time you covered for Becky while she set the woods on fire."

"I was not covering for her! She told me that she was going to the bathroom!"

"And when you went out with Viktor Krum--"

"What did he do to upset you so much?"

"He looked just like that awful convict they showed on television, that Sirius Black, I'm half convinced he was..."

"Mum, Sirius bloody well wouldn't have been playing Quidditch!"

"But the ultimate," she yelled, ignoring me, ignoring my father's placating hand on her shoulder, "the straw that broke the camel's back--what took the cake--was that letter! Oh, I knew, Hermione Jane Granger--I knew as soon as I saw that letter that no good would come of it! But your father--" She jerked out from under his hand and levelled an accusing finger at my father. "Your father absolutely insisted you be allowed! And I agreed! And now look at you!"

I saw red. Everything clicked. "Are you referring to my Hogwarts letter?" I said in a low, dangerous voice.

"Yes, I bloody well am!" Mum shouted, furious now. "I used to be proud of you, Hermione. I used to be so proud that we had a witch in the family. I even told myself your powers were a gift. But now I know better. You...you...you are a shame on this family! A blemish! A spot! And one which I intend to have removed!"

"Samantha!" Dad scolded.

"Oh, stop standing up for her, Robert! We never should have let her go to that...that school. She's been nothing but trouble since she got home."

I was trembling. I knew it. All of a sudden, I started doing something I hadn't done in years, at least not in front of my mother. I started to cry.

Turning around, I ran out of the living room and into my bedroom. I threw myself face down on my bed and started sobbing.

~~~

I don't know how long I was up there--probably not very--but I had sobbed myself dry when my dad came in my room.

"Hermione, honey?" he said softly, rubbing my back a bit. "Someone's here to see you. Do you want them to come in?"

I nodded, figuring it was one of my two friends from our old neighbourhood. I could use some cheering up right about now. I didn't get out of my pillows yet; Lisa and Su and Caristìona wouldn't care how wretched I looked.

I didn't know anyone had come in until I felt someone's hand on my back, just resting there, not pressing down. "Hermione?" came a gentle voice.

I looked up in astonishment, my face still streaked with tears. "Harry?" I gasped upon seeing him. "What are you doing here? How did you get here?"

"I live around the corner," Harry answered. "At least for now. Aunt Petunia sent me down with a pudding, and your dad apparently recognised me from pictures or descriptions or something. He said you were kind of upset. What happened?"

"I had a fight with my mother," I told him, forcing myself to a sitting position. I explained our whole argument. "I don't know where she is now."

"She left," Harry answered. "She almost ran me over whipping out of here. Your dad says she's gone to the movies."

I leaned on Harry's shoulder and almost started crying again. He put his arms around me and rocked me slightly, comforting me. "It'll all work out, Mione," he said softly. "You'll see."

"I wish we would just stop fighting," I said fiercely. "I wish there was some way to make her shut up and stop telling me I'm 'putting my lot in with the devil'."

Harry gave me a sad and proud half-smile. "Hermione, you're more likely to fight with the devil and go down swinging than put your lot in with him."

I relaxed and settled into a more comfortable position. "Thanks, Harry."

"Any time," he said softly.

We sat like that for a few minutes. I started looking around my room, which I hadn't got around to unpacking yet. (I'd been too busy sobbing. I knew where it was because Dad had told me during our tea, but this was the first time I'd really seen it.) Instantly, I knew two things. First of all, this room had once been the library. Second of all, that's why my parents had chosen it for me. The bookshelves were built into the walls. About thirty large cartons were piled against one wall, with two more by the closet and dressers and three more by the door. Obviously Mum had labelled the cartons. The three by the door read in big black letters TABITHA'S ROOM. The two by the closet and dressers read TABITHA'S CLOTHES, and the pile by the wall read TABITHA'S BOOKS. Harry had noticed them too.

"Who's Tabitha?" he asked me.

"It's Mum's nickname for me." I explained about Bewitched. "She must've labelled my things."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Looking around at the bare walls, the dressers clustered together, and most of all the bare bookshelves--except for one or two books and a pair of bookends that had been left behind--I got an idea. "Say, Harry...what time do you have to be home?"

"Before eight," Harry answered with a shrug. "Lupin'll kill me if I'm out later than that. Why?"

"D'you want to help me organise my room?"

Harry looked surprised. "Sure, why not?"

"Great!" I stood up and looked around thoughtfully. After a few minutes, I had marked out where I thought my furniture should go, then had Harry give his opinion.

"If that's what you want, it's fine," Harry nodded. "But you've got your dresser over this window here...come here."

I joined him. He pointed to the window just on the other side of the fence. "That's my window. There...the one directly across."

A thrill ran up my spine. I could see Hedwig in her cage just beyond the window. "Small change," I told Harry. "I'm switching my bed and my dresser."

Harry helped me push my furniture into the position I wanted them. I left my clothes, planning to put them away later, but we opened the two boxes labelled TABITHA'S ROOM. The first one had my photographs in it, mostly from around Hogwarts, although there were quite a few of my father and me. We actually had a lot of fun arranging them on the wall. The second box was my stuffed animal collection, and the third contained my porcelain dolls. I strung a net across one corner of my room, and we piled my stuffed animals into it. I carefully unpacked my dolls and set them on a shelf on the wall.

"Those are really nice," Harry commented, looking at them.

"Thanks," I said, pleased.

And they were pretty nice. There was Cinderella and her Fairy Godmother, Dorothy and The Scarecrow and The Tinman and The Cowardly Lion (and Toto too, of course), a ballerina, a girl with long curly hair in a pink dress, and two girls, one taller than the other, wearing Norwegian costumes. I explained about the first seven (he knew about Dorothy and company, of course), then pointed to the others. "The ballerina's name is Christina, the girl's name is Rachel, the taller Norwegian doll is Alfhield and the shorter is Elsa."

"Did you name them yourself?" Harry asked me with that half smile of his. I nodded.

Then we started shelving my books. That was fun. Mum had thrown them in willy-nilly, so I put them in an order I'd not ever tried before. We put them in order big to small by colour. First we sorted them into piles by size, then shelved them by colour. It sounds complicated, but it really isn't.

We were working through the medium-sized books when Harry suddenly clapped a hand to his forehead. "Ouch!"

"Are you okay?" I asked anxiously.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, but I could tell he was kind of bothered. "It's just my scar again. Worse than ever that time...wish I knew why. The only time I've ever had it hurt worse was..." He broke off and didn't finish.

We finished shelving the books and headed downstairs, chatting, but broke off when we went into the kitchen. Dad was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of tea in front of him. Opposite him sat a man who, young as he was, had a heavily lined face and hair streaked with grey. It was Remus Lupin and he, too, had a cup of tea in front of him.

"Oh, hello, Talitha," Dad said with a smile. "Feeling better?"

Alarm bells went off in my head. First of all, as I said, Dad only calls me Talitha when I'm upset--or when he's worried. It means "little girl" in Aramaic. Second of all, that smile was false. I've been around Harry enough to know how to tell. "Dad? What's wrong?"

Dad gave a strange kind of chuckle. "Can't fool you, can I, Talitha?" He nodded to Lupin. "This is your party. And I'm still not sure why you're here."

"Actually, I was looking for Harry," Lupin said. He pushed his mug of tea away and took a deep breath. "There was...it was one of the biggest...we were wondering if you saw a face...heard a voice...anything helpful..." He trailed off helplessly. It was obvious that he had no idea how to say what he was trying.

Harry seemed to understand. "Just for a second. Three people, I think. I recognised Lucius Malfoy's voice...one of them was Macnair..." He bit his lip and added quietly, "The last one had a silver hand."

"Pettigrew?" Lupin asked, sort of sharply.

"Must be."

I swallowed. "What...what did they do?"

"Massacre," Lupin said quietly. "A movie theatre. Even twenty years ago, when he was at the height of his power, we'd never seen anything like this. The theatre was packed. Maybe six, ten people escaped, all kids under the age of thirteen." He closed his eyes briefly. Harry glanced at me, suddenly looking almost as old as Lupin, and a flash of understanding jumped between his emerald eyes and my amber ones: this was only the beginning.

Opening his eyes, Lupin stood up. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, Dr. Granger."

"Oh, no bother at all," Dad assured him. "I've heard so much about you...it was great to meet you."

Lupin opened his mouth to answer, but there was a knock at the door. Frowning, Dad crossed to the living room followed by Lupin. Harry and I looked around the doorframe into the living room as Dad opened the door, revealing two tall people dressed in black.

I screamed. (I couldn't help it.)

Dad and Lupin both looked just as alarmed as I was, but Harry seemed calm, if suddenly pale. Then one of the two people started to speak.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"Tonks?" Lupin and I said in chorus. Lupin looked relieved. I grabbed Harry's arm because I thought I was going to collapse from relief.

"Sorry," Lupin apologised. "We're kind of jumpy."

"Oh, Lupin, I didn't know you were here," said the other. Mad-Eye Moody.

Harry and I stepped out from the kitchen. Tonks noticed us and swallowed. "Um, we...that is, Alastor needs to tell you something," she said evasively.

"Oh, thanks," Moody said sarcastically. I hadn't known he was capable of being sarcastic. Looking at his list, he said, "Dr. Robert Granger?"

"That's me," Dad said, stepping forward. "Is something the matter?"

Harry, with whom the penny had already dropped, moved forward a little and stood just slightly behind and to the side of me. I moved a little closer to him, still a bit nervous from my earlier scare.

Moody took a deep breath.

"I regret to inform you that your wife, Dr. Samantha Welting, is dead."

I felt all the colour drain out of my face, and I saw it drain out of Dad's. "What?" he asked faintly.

"She was at the movie theatre," Moody said gruffly. "I'm terribly sorry. It's lucky you weren't there...you could have been killed."

Suddenly it occurred to me. Mum was at the movies because of that fight we had...if I hadn't been so rude she wouldn't be dead. And I wished she'd stop fighting with me...I wished her to death. Oh, God.

"Hermione?" Harry said softly, looking pale and frightened and concerned.

The world seemed to swirl around me and the carpet came rushing up to meet me. I sank into blackness, not even caring that Harry caught me just before I hit the ground.

~~~

Harry came to my mother's funeral the next week. I had tried to tell him he didn't have to come, but he just said he did. I didn't fight it after that. I needed someone there for support. His aunt came, too, which surprised me.

Actually, now that I've had time to think about it, I know why he felt like he had to come. When Sirius died the year before, almost no one had come to his funeral. Actually, Harry and Lupin had attended. No one else. I couldn't because I hadn't known about it. I don't remember what excuse the rest of the Order gave. But Harry was really upset, even if he didn't show it. He was determined that no one else should die so seemingly unloved and unremembered. He goes to the funeral for everyone he knows who dies. In that past year he'd been to twelve Order funerals, three funerals for families of his friends, and one funeral for a Ministry official.

I was glad he came to this one. Besides the two of us and my dad, there was his Aunt Petunia (who, as it later transpired, was an old childhood friend of my mom's) and Lupin. No one else came.

Finally, as we were leaving the graveyard, I told Harry my secret fear: that it was my fault my mother was dead. But he shook his head.

"Hermione, remember how guilty I felt after Sirius died? Remember how much I blamed myself? And after Cedric died, I blamed myself then too. But it wasn't my fault, Mione, and you spent the better part of last year telling me that. And you're right. I couldn't have known what I'd done would have the effect it did. And besides, from what you told me, your mother started it."

"That doesn't make me feel much better."
"Maybe it doesn't right now." Harry leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "But it will, Mione. it will. Trust me."

And you know what? I did.

~~~

About a week later, Harry and I were taking another walk through the woods. It was one of those peaceful woods where you could enjoy the air and the plants and the sounds, the kind of walk where the feel of his fingers curled protectively around yours and the look in his eyes and the way he gently guides you around branches and roots seems to say everything and you don't need to talk. We took a lot of that sort of walk.

All of a sudden, Harry glanced over at me. "Mione?" he said gently.

"Mmm?" I said, looking up at him.

He bit his lip. "I...Lupin asked me to go and spend the rest of the summer with him. There's a lot to do this summer."

"What do you mean?" I asked, befuddled.

He gave me a sort of half-smile. "I didn't tell you? Well, remember when Lupin and Aunt Petunia came to visit me last year?"

I nodded. Harry had been injured playing Quidditch--really badly injured--which was why Lupin and his recently divorced aunt had come to visit him. Even now, he still has difficulties with his left hand at times.

"Come to find out, they'd been childhood sweethearts," Harry told me. "They got engaged while they were there...wedding is in a month, so the next few weeks are going to be kind of hectic. You're welcome to come if you'd like."

I smiled in spite of myself. "That would be great."

Harry's smile widened a little. "Actually, Aunt Petunia said to ask if you'd be her bridesmaid--she has no sister and no friends, and she rather likes you. Says you remind her of Mum."

This was high praise from Petunia Evans, although just a few short years ago it would've been taken as an insult. It was just the pickup I needed. I flushed pink and smiled again. "Sure. I'd like that."

~~~

Harry wasn't kidding. The next few weeks were hectic. Dad had dropped me off at Grimmauld Place the morning after our conversation, and I walked in to find that I was immediately immersed in wedding planning. While Petunia and Lupin worked out guest lists and site bookings, Harry and I took each name as they gave it to us and started working out a seating arrangement for the reception. Once all of that was worked out, Harry and Lupin planned out a menu while Petunia and I talked about flowers for the bouquet and our hair and the flower girl's basket. Harry was going to be Lupin's best man, Ginny planned on being Petunia's other bridesmaid, George said he would be Lupin's other usher, Mrs. Figg's granddaughter Zoey had agreed to be flower girl, and Dedalus Diggle's nephew Ryan was to be ring bearer, so at least the wedding party was settled. Still, we needed our clothes, so about a week after I got there, George and Ginny turned up just after breakfast. Mrs. Figg dropped off Zoey about an hour later, closely followed by Diggle with Ryan. Lupin took George, Harry, and Ryan to Diagon Alley for formal wizarding wear, but Petunia, Ginny, Zoey and I headed to an ordinary Muggle shop for our dresses.

Okay, it wasn't exactly ordinary. It was a bridal shop, which means fancy frills and huge prices. Ginny, being nearly sixteen, was old enough to know not to touch, although she was overawed by the dresses. Zoey, at nine, knew better than to touch anything but held a childlike fascination for the fairytale splendour of the gowns.

Petunia tried on dress upon dress--white, eggshell, cream, even a silver one (which was quickly vetoed). Nothing seemed to jump out at us. Suddenly, Ginny, Petunia, and I spotted the same dress in the same instant. Petunia tried it on. It had a lace-up back, graceful shoulders, and a long skirt. There was just the slightest and most delicate sweep to the skirt, just enough so that it didn't drop straight. "That's it," Ginny and I said in the same voice.

Bridesmaid and flower girl dresses were a little harder. There were more factors to consider, such as that I can't wear straight dresses because I have kind of wide hips, Ginny can't wear pink because of her hair, Zoey won't wear green, et cetera. Finally, though, we found the perfect dresses. They were a dusky blue-grey with white trim, of a soft and silky material. Everything was purchased, and we headed back to Grimmauld Place.

Mrs. Figg was waiting for Zoey when we got back, so with a "See you at the rehearsal" she peeled off and we went inside. The boys weren't home yet. Petunia and Ginny and I hung our dresses up--Ginny was going to be staying with us for the rest of the summer--then went downstairs. Out of sheer force off habit I started making tea. We sat down with our cups and started chatting about the day, the wedding, and school. Ginny was fretting--she was expecting her O.W.L. results any day, and she worried about her Transfiguration grades. Petunia and I started discussing books at some point, and I was telling them about Of Mice and Men. Must be a good way to get people to come home. Lupin, Harry, and George walked in just as I was wrapping up.

"...So, of course, George knew just where to look for him, so he went down to the lake--which was right where he'd told him to go. Then he distracted him briefly, and while his head was turned, George picked up the gun and shot him."

"I did not!"

Ginny and Petunia both jumped, but I didn't even look up. "Not you. I'm discussing a book."

"Oh," George said as the three guys came in. "Well, that's okay then."

I rolled my eyes. "How was the expedition?"

Lupin made a big show of collapsing into an armchair, looking half-dead.

"That bad, huh?" Ginny asked, smothering her giggles.

Harry made a big show of plopping down on the sofa next to me and lolling his head. George made a big show of sprawling on the loveseat. Petunia made a big show of bringing them all tea and helping Lupin to drink his. Ginny and I made a big show of fanning Harry and George off with pieces of paper. We started giggling and couldn't stop, even Harry and Lupin, who hadn't laughed like that in a year, and Petunia, whom I used to think didn't have a sense of humour.

George tried to wave Ginny off like a fly, but she wouldn't leave. Finally, he picked up a pillow and went to slug her. She ducked and the pillow slipped out of George's hands, flew behind her, and got Petunia full in the face. There was a brief moment of silence. After a second, Petunia picked up the pillow and stared at it, then looked at George and threw it at him. She missed entirely and hit me. So I threw it back at her. She ducked and it hit Lupin, who threw it at me but hit Harry, who just threw it and hit Ginny. In a matter of seconds we had a six-way pillow fight going, all of us giggling and hitting each other with throw pillows off the sofas and dodging and parrying.

We were having so much fun that we didn't hear the knock at the door. Finally--obviously whoever it was had been there or a while--the doorbell rang, and it was this which pulled us back into the real world. George and Ginny and Harry and I just sat on the floor where we were, still laughing. Okay, maybe "sat" is the wrong word. We collapsed in a helpless, giggling heap. Lupin tried to find a chair, but he kind of missed and wound up being a part of our giggling heap. Petunia, wiping tears of laughter out of her eyes, went to answer the door.

We were still laughing when whoever it was came in. "Did I miss something?" a familiar voice asked.

"No fair!" a voice said in joking protest. "You started the fun without me!"

"Finished it without you, too," George gasped out, clutching his side, helpless with laughter.

"Hi, Fred, Mr. Weasley," I giggled.

It was hopeless. The room was strewn with feathers and pillows. Every time we managed to stop laughing, Ginny would find a pile of feathers that looked like an exploded chicken, or Harry would notice a feather on top of my head, or George would put his hand down on a pillow that then spewed feathers all over, and we'd start laughing again.

"What happened in here?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking around. "It looks like you've been plucking geese."

Lupin, greying brown hair tousled, sprawled on the floor, looked up with a grin. "Nothing major. We just had a pillow fight is all."

"A pillow fight?" Fred repeated, clearly astonished.

Harry nodded and ran a hand through his messy black hair, his emerald eyes shining. "We were clowning around when we got back in and it kind of got out of hand...I think George tried to get Ginny to stop fanning him off by throwing a pillow at her but missed....and it kind of snowballed from there."

Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Well, we just came to drop off George and Ginny's things." He handed each one a suitcase.

"Well, see you at the wedding, I guess," Fred said with a grin. "Have fun!"

"No worries!" George assured him. We all looked at each other and cracked up again.

~~~

With George and Ginny helping us out, wedding planning went almost smoothly and a lot more quickly. We held the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding, and it went all right. There were a few minor catastrophes, just enough to ensure the wedding would go all right. Still, Petunia was an absolute basket case, and that night she came in to sleep with Ginny and me.

There were enough rooms that all six of us could have had our own rooms, but Ginny said she felt better sleeping with me, so we shared. And it was one of those silly wedding traditions that it was bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding. Since the wedding was to be held out back and Ginny and I would be helping her dress, she came in to spend the night with us.

We spent all night discussing every wedding we'd ever been to. I entertained them both with the tale of my Cousin Helena's wedding, when her fat old bulldog Prince carried the rings in, then interrupted the service to bark at a squirrel on the roof. Ginny told us about the wedding she'd seen in the village, when birds swooped down on the outdoor reception and ate all the food. Ginny and I swapped a couple more stories, then looked to Petunia for her tales.

"I've only been to two weddings in my life," she said quietly. "Mine...and Lily's."

"What was your first wedding like?" I asked, curious.

Petunia gave me a grotesque, twisted smile. "Nothing like this one will be, I hope. First of all, I hadn't intended to marry Vernon at all. Actually, I'd been engaged to someone else. His name was Oberon...Oberon Lewis Dursley--Vernon's brother--but we always called him Lew. I'll never forget it. We had this wonderful fairy-tale wedding planned. Two months before the wedding, he died."

"Oh, that's awful!" Ginny gasped. "What happened?"

"Well, no one ever told me. Mysterious circumstances, they said. I was crushed. Vernon said he'd marry me in Lew's stead, and I said yes before I had time to collect my thoughts--I was just so afraid I'd never have another shot at marriage. Back then, except for being fat where Lew was thin, Vernon looked just like him. After I found out I was pregnant with Dudley, I started discovering what he was really like."

"But the wedding?" I asked, trying to get away from painful memories. "What was that like?"

"Goodness, I can't remember now...I was so upset I couldn't think straight. I just remember looking at the bouquet--they were bright pink petunias--and remembering that Lew used to bring them to me...for the first couple of days I thought I was married to Lew, but then I remembered all of a sudden."

I swallowed, trying not to cry. "What about...what about Lily's wedding?"

A real smile crossed her face this time. "Oh, I loved that one. Lily looked like a queen. We were both slender when we were kids, but mine was that thin, angular boniness. Hers was that graceful, ballerina-like slenderness. If you compared us to trees, she was a birch and I was just a stick." (Ginny giggled.) "We'd both been planning our weddings since we were little kids--mine didn't turn out the way I intended it to, but hers did. She had this beautiful dress--looked like a queen. I'd always thought James looked kind of silly, but he didn't look silly then--he looked proud. I didn't have a present for them, but he gave me this grin...I was representing the family, and that grin made me feel like I'd already given him the best gift I could have given him. The whole thing was a fairy-tale wedding." A faraway look came into her eyes. "I never saw them after that but once, and I had to sneak out to manage that...Vernon didn't approve. I said I was going shopping and left Dudley with Arabella...anyway, it was just after Harry was born. Lily had written and asked me to stand in as godmother. Lily...she wasn't the baby sister I remembered anymore. We were twins, but I was older...but that day she looked so much older than I was. She was never really strong when we were kids, but she looked so pale then I was really scared. We talked about babies for a while--Harry and Dudley--and then James came in. He had Harry in his arms, and Sirius was right behind him. James shocked me. Like I said, when I first met him I thought he was just a geek, and at the wedding he just seemed like a jock with his girlfriend. But then..." She looked me directly in the eye. "I know you've seen the kind of strength Harry has in him. Remember the way he acted last year? The way he looked, the way he carried himself?"

"The way he still acts when he's worried or unhappy or scared," I added softly. "I know. I remember."

Petunia nodded. "That's what James was like. He knew he needed to protect his family--his wife, his son. He knew what was at stake, he knew he might have to die to save Harry, and he was ready. He was willing to die for his family." She bit her lip. "That's why I've always cared about Harry so much, even when I wasn't allowed to show it. Because he was his father--or very nearly so."

"Sirius said that Harry wasn't as reckless," Ginny pointed out.

"So he wasn't," Petunia answered. "So he isn't. And in that way he's so like Lily...that and his eyes. But that determination, the courage, the steadiness, the knowledge of what he has to do and the willingness to do it...that reminds me so much of his father. Whatever he's called to do, I know he can do it."

Petunia and Ginny drifted off a little after that. I was having trouble sleeping, though. What Petunia said about Harry's father made me worried about Harry himself. Finally, I slipped downstairs and headed for the living room. Harry was already there, staring into the fire. He looked up at me and our eyes met. Not even thinking, I crossed the room on a dream and settled in next to him. Sitting like that, his presence reassuring me that he was okay, we fell asleep.

In the morning we discovered that we were not the only insomniacs. Someone had covered us with a blanket in the middle of the night.

~~~

If I thought Petunia was a basket case the night before her wedding, that was nothing compared to the morning thereof. Harry and George took Lupin upstairs and kept him busy until noon while we kept Petunia busy downstairs. Finally, when we noticed people start arriving, we took her into the room we'd selected to get ourselves dressed.

Zoey joined us. We got her ready first, helping her get into her dress and style her hair. She's got a bob, so really we just pulled it back with barrettes and put a circlet of flowers on her head. I think hers were daisies, to match the petals in her basket. Then Ginny and I fixed each other up while Petunia tried to relax. Ginny's been letting her hair grow out and it reaches almost to her waist. We left it loose, except for a little bit at the top that I pulled back into o a ponytail. My hair, on the other hand, is so bushy and thick that it defies styling. We just brushed it out and left it. Each of us had a circlet of flowers as well, but ours were rosebuds. We would each be carrying a flower--a tiger lily. Then our attentions turned to Petunia.

We helped her into her gown and buttoned her up the back. She's been letting her hair grow too, but it only reaches to about midback. Unlike Ginny's ruddy locks, which are stick-straight, Petunia's hair fell in gentle, rippling waves of cornsilk. I was brushing it when there was a soft, fairy-like knock at the door.

"Get that, would you, Gin?" I said absently, focusing myself on Petunia's hair. She'd said she wanted something simple (her first wedding she'd worn an elaborate hairstyle) so I was going to fix her hair the same way I'd done Ginny's.

Ginny opened the door and froze. "Erm...Hermione?"

"Yeah, Ginny?" I asked, pulling Petunia's hair back carefully.

"S-someone here wants to see Petunia..." she said, sounding nervous.

"Well, if it isn't Remus, then by all means let them in," I told her. "There. Think we've got it."

I looked toward the door and blinked. A tall young woman, with bright red hair and kelly green eyes--eyes I knew, eyes I remembered--stood before us. It looked like...but of course it couldn't be.

"Lily?" Petunia gasped.

The woman smiled. "What ever happened to Vernon, Penny? I know you hated him, but..."

"Divorce," she said a little breathlessly. "Oh, Lily, you came!"

"Of course I came," Lily said with a warm smile. "I missed your first wedding and it was an awful marriage. I wouldn't miss this one for the world. Remus is a good kid."

"How...how'd you know?" Petunia asked. "About the wedding, I mean?"

"And how'd you get here?" I added.

Lily chuckled. "Penny, you've been praying for this to go well since you said you'd marry him. One of the archangels happened to mention it to me, and we got special permission to come."

"'We'?" Ginny repeated with a squeak.

"James and Sirius are waiting in the church," Lily answered. She started to say more, but just then there was a call from outside.

"Oh, gosh, we're ready to start!" I gasped. I checked my watch, which I had set on a dresser. Yup. We'd be heading down the aisle in a couple of minutes.

Lily looked startled. "Well...good luck, Penny. I'll see you after the wedding."

"Thanks, Lils," Petunia said with a weak smile. Lily left.

I draped Petunia's frosty veil carefully and lowered it over her face. Ginny handed her the bouquet, a large bunch of moonflowers, stems wrapped in satin ribbon. As nervous as she was acting, you'd think it was her first wedding instead of her second.

Finally, we were in the back of the house, at the end of the long aisle leading to an archway adorned with flowers and ribbons. Remus, Harry, and George stood on one side of it. In the centre stood Dedalus Diggle, who is an ordained minister in the United Methodist church (as well as in Joeyism, a religion started by a thirteen-year-old boy in Norfolk, Virginia in which everyone worships him. Obviously, this service was to be United Methodist). Ryan joined us in the back. He, like Lupin, Harry, and George, wore dress robes of a deep blue. It wasn't navy--it was just deep. I can't really explain it. Ginny made a joke about a blue wedding when it hit me.

"Oh, gosh!" I whispered. "Petunia, it's kind of late for this, but do you have something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue?"

Petunia looked pale. "Well...my necklace is old, my dress is new, my earrings are streaked with blue, but...oh, no, I didn't borrow anything!"

"Here," I said quickly. I unfastened my charm bracelet and handed it to her. It was a fine gold chain with three minute charms on it. "No silver," I assured her as Ginny clasped it around her wrist.

And then the music started up and the wedding began.

First Ryan headed down the aisle, holding the pillow carefully on which two rings rested. Zoey walked up after him, scattering the petals around her with a smile on her face. Then Ginny and I walked up, holding our lilies, and took our places opposite Harry and George. And then Petunia came in.

I knew she was still scared about this. I knew she was afraid things would go wrong. But one look at her face and I could tell that she knew deep down that they wouldn't. And she knew that no matter what happened it would be fine. This was the fairy-tale wedding she'd always wanted. Maybe Prince Charming had arrived a little late. But he had come for the princess. And after all, Sleeping Beauty had to wait a hundred years for her prince.

When she finally reached the front of the room, the music died away, and the service began. I let myself get caught up in that special wedding magic and just let everything sweep over me. Finally, Diggle pronounced them husband and wife. Petunia handed me her bouquet, and Lupin raised her veil. The yard burst into applause as they kissed.

After the pictures of the wedding party, Remus and Petunia cut the cake together. Everyone was just sitting around talking when I heard someone call Petunia's name.

Now that the wedding was over, now that she was Mrs. Lupin, Petunia was far calmer. She smiled and waved as Lily threaded her way over to Petunia, Ginny, and me. (The boys were still trying to get over to us.) Right behind her were two men. One I recognised right off--it was Sirius. The other...well, I could see why everyone talked about how much Harry looked like his father. The man could only be James Potter. The only differences beyond the scar were that James had hazel eyes and a different shape to his nose.

Petunia stood up and beamed. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Well, we wanted to be here for you," Lily said with a smile.

"All we knew was that you were marrying someone, though," James added. "I just dragged Sirius along for the ride. If we'd known Remus was the groom we'd've been here earlier."

"And gone up to see him," Sirius added. "Where is he anyway?"

"Here he comes," I said, nodding in his direction. Harry was right behind him.

Remus smiled as he joined us. "Big turnout."

He hadn't noticed Lily or James or Sirius yet. Judging by the look on Harry's face, though, Harry had. He tried to speak but couldn't say anything. I moved over next to him and squeezed his hand. "It's okay," I whispered softly. "Come on."

Petunia's eyes twinkled with merriment. "It is a big turnout," she agreed. "We had a couple people turn up I was never expecting, though."

"Really?" Lupin frowned. "Who?"

"Us," Lily answered, her eyes dancing.

Remus half glanced at her. "Oh...hi, Lily." Then he did a double take. "Wait...Lily? James? Sirius? What are you three doing here?"

"You didn't think I'd miss my big sister's wedding, did you?" Lily said with a grin. "Sirius just kind of came along for the ride."

"If we'd known it was you, Rem, we would've come up to see you," James added. Then he caught sight of Harry and blinked. "Good Lord, Remus. Who's that?"

Sirius seemed stunned, too, and I knew why. In the last year or so Harry had grown up. He wasn't the same boy he'd been before Sirius's death. It wasn't a bad change, just a slightly shocking one. He looked--and acted--more like his father every day.

"James, you prat, it's your son," Remus said good-naturedly, pushing Harry forward.

Green eyes met hazel. Both seemed stunned at seeing each other. It was Harry who cracked first. He gave his father one of his warm, totally transforming smiles. "Hi, Dad."

A slow smile crossed James's face. "My boy," he said fondly. "You grew up."

"Boy, did you ever," agreed Sirius. "Your birthday's coming up, right? On the twenty-ninth you'll be sixteen, won't you?"

"The thirty-first. And I'll be seventeen."

"Seventeen?" James and Sirius repeated as one.

"When did you turn sixteen?" Lily asked incredulously.

"Last July."

"Smart-arse."

I laughed, which drew James and Lily's attention to me for the first time. "Friend of yours, Harry?" James asked.

Harry put his arm around me and drew me forward. "Mum, Dad, this is my girlfriend Hermione."

"Pleased to meet you," they said. They weren't the only ones.

~~~

That evening, the guests gone, Harry and I collapsed in the living room, tired but happy. I was leaning my head on Harry's shoulder--it was the most comfortable position--and he was sort of playing with my hair. Petunia and Lupin had already gone up to bed.

I didn't want to admit it, but I was almost scared to go to sleep. The day had been wonderful--almost perfect. I was afraid something would happen. As long as I was awake, with Harry next to me and his arms around me protectively, nothing would go wrong. And meeting James had reminded me anew of how much like his father Harry was. What frightened me was the knowledge that Harry would make that same sacrifice--his life for his family, his friends. I didn't want to lose him...he meant too much to me. He was the only person with whom I didn't have to be perfect. And I worried to think that he might not be around. I didn't want to burden him with my problems--he looked like he had problems of his own.

He seemed to read my thoughts, though. I was a little drowsy when I saw him give me a sidelong glance. "Penny for your thoughts?" he murmured.

"Only if you'll tell me yours," I countered.

"Ladies first," he told me, giving me a small hug.

I sighed and snuggled a little closer to him. I hesitated for half a second, then told him what worried me.

He didn't answer for a minute. Finally, he said, "I wish I could give you some sort of comfort, but the truth is that I don't know if I'll be all right. I want to promise that nothing will ever happen to me, but...well, you know, I might not make it to June." He hugged me tighter to him. "I want to be able to tell you that I'll be okay. But, Hermione, I don't know. I guess...I guess we'll just have to take it one day at a time. And if that gets to be too much, we'll take it one hour at a time. And if that's too much, we'll take a minute at a time, or a second at a time. We can handle this if we just don't try to do too much."

I gave him a hug and snuggled a little closer to him. We were already occupying a space normally intended for one person, but the closeness felt comforting and...safe. "Your turn. What's bothering you?"

Harry bit his lip. "It's...it's my scar. It hasn't hurt for almost a week--not even a tiny little twinge--which means the Death Eaters have been laying low. That isn't good. They don't just lay low for long, and I'm worried they're planning something big."

"Does Lupin know?"

"We talked about it, yes, but we both know there's nothing we can do about it but wait. What are we going to do? Arrest them for not doing anything? We can't do anything if they're lying low. It's just worrying."

I sighed deeply and stared into the flames sleepily. "But everything will be all right, won't it?"

"If I have anything to do about it," Harry promised softly, his hand caressing my hair. Safe in his arms, the fire flickering comfortingly, I slipped into sleep.

~~~

I had a nightmare again, but this one was even more realistic than the one I'd had on my sixteenth birthday. And it started bad and went to worse.

In the dream, which I thought was real, I woke up to find Harry gone, the fire dead. I was alone and frightened. Pushing myself out of the sofa, I discovered that the room was cold, as though no one had been there for a long time. Frightened, I called for Harry. No one answered.

My fear mounting, I ran through the whole house, calling for Harry, getting louder each time. (Harry told me later that I was curling into a tighter and tighter ball, digging my fingernails into him deeper, and that's what woke him up.) I heard laughter coming from down a corridor and followed it hopefully, praying it was Harry. I threw open the door to the room the laughter was coming from and stopped. Harry was sprawled across the floor, dead and bleeding, and a figure in a dark cloak stood behind him. Two hands with unnaturally long fingers pulled back the hood, revealing the person standing there. I saw a pair of red eyes, a snake-like nose, a lipless mouth grinning out of a white face, and I knew it was Voldemort, even though I'd never seen him before. And I knew he'd killed Harry.

With a malicious grin on his awful face, he raised an arm. A wand was between those long fingers. And he yelled the words that had haunted my dreams for so long--"Avada Kedavra!"

I screamed. And screamed.

"Hermione, Hermione, wake up!"

My eyes flew open. I was still on the sofa, clutching something soft. Looking up, I saw a face white as death and almost screamed again--until I saw the emerald globes behind the glasses and relaxed. Harry. His face was pale--probably with fright--his eyes full of concern. I saw that I was digging my fingernails into his chest and let go.

"Hermione?" Harry asked me softly, rubbing my back. "What happened?"

"It was...it was a bad dream," I told him. "I woke up and you weren't here...and I started looking for you but I still couldn't find you...and then I went in this room upstairs because I heard laughter, and you were lying on the floor dead. And Voldemort was there, and he raised his wand and..." I swallowed and couldn't finish. Tears started to spill out of my eyes.

Harry hugged me tightly, stroking my hair. "Shh. Shh. It's okay. It's okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," he soothed me. "I'll be right here. I'll always be right there for you, even when you can't see me. I promise."

~~~

Petunia and Lupin walked with us to King's Cross on September first. We had a grand time--laughing, talking, joking. It felt like we were a real family. I wasn't even a part of the family, but they made me feel welcome.

We said goodbye at the entrance--since Petunia was a Muggle, she couldn't get on the platform, and besides they were leaving on their honeymoon. Harry took my hand, and together we walked onto the platform. People jostled us as they rushed to get with their friends. Students shrieked to one another from opposite ends of the platform. Younger siblings whined because they couldn't go too.

I caught Harry's eye and grinned. "Complete chaos."

Harry's grin matched mine. "Ah, how I missed it."

With a giggle, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my instruction sheet. "Shall we, then?"

"To the front," Harry said in a monotone. "Woo-hoo. We are having fun."

I laughed--I knew he was joking. "Come on, then."

Harry and I had been appointed Head Boy and Girl. Neither of our letters had detailed the reason, but looking sidelong at Harry I could see why he'd been appointed. He was a born leader, he kept up with his studies, and he always put everyone else before himself. In the past two years he had changed from a little boy into a young man. He was someone you could depend on to do what needed to be done. I knew that the prefects--even Draco Malfoy--would respect him.

The prefects have a couple of compartments up front that are better than the rest of them. However, Head Boy and Girl have a whole car to themselves at the very front, and it's great. I know they invite their friends in there sometimes, and Harry and I planned to invite ours in. At the moment, however, we just stowed our trunks and waited. The prefects were going to come in for their briefing shortly. It was easier than going to the first two compartments.

The first prefect came in a couple seconds later, looking small and frightened--a fifth year Gryffindor. I smiled kindly, and he took a seat nervously.

Ten minutes later, the train underway, the last of the prefects--Neville Longbottom, who was the Gryffindor seventh year prefect as Harry was Head Boy--straggled in, and we began.

Harry started off by calling roll, welcoming the newest prefects, and explaining the basic rules of prefecthood--no more than ten points could be taken at a time from any student, detentions could be assigned for severe infractions, no abusing your authority. Then I stood up and explained about the duties each prefect would be expected to fill.

After I had finished, Harry stood up again. "I believe that's everything of importance. You can either go into the prefect compartments, in which case we will give you the passwords, or go and sit with your friends. Don't forget to check on things in the corridors every so often."

Most of the prefects scuttled out. Neville and Ginny, who was one of the sixth year prefects, started to leave as well, but Harry caught them. "You two can stay if you'd like," he offered. "We're allowed to invite a couple friends in."

Neville set his trunk back down. Harry helped him stow it away. Ginny, however, paused briefly. "Want me to go get Ron?" she asked hesitantly, chewing her lip.

Harry grinned slightly. "Sure," he told Ginny. "If he wants to come in. I was about to go get him, but if you really want to you can."

Ginny slipped out of the compartment, leaving her trunk behind. We chatted for a while, talking about little things. I pulled out a couple bottles of butterbeer and handed one to Neville, one to Harry, and set one out for Ginny. We were just starting to think about lunch when Ginny returned, looking crushed.

"Is Ron coming?" Harry asked. Though his face didn't change, I noticed the look in his eyes and it broke my heart.

Ginny shook her head. "He sounded really annoyed that I asked him, too. I don't know why."

Neither did I, but Harry seemed to understand. He stood up. "I'll be right back," he said quietly. "Hopefully with Ron."

I blinked in surprise as Harry left, but I passed Ginny her bottle of butterbeer.

I never knew what Harry had in mind when he left the car, but when he returned thirty minutes later Ron was with him, his face alight with a hopeful eagerness. Harry himself seemed less grave than before.

"Butterbeer?" I offered, masking my surprise by ducking into the cabinet and pulling out a bottle.

"Sure," Ron said, taking it from me. "This is pretty nice."

Ginny hugged him. "Glad you could come in."

Harry sat down next to me and picked up his own bottle. "What'd you tell him?" I asked quietly.

"Told him the truth--we really wanted him to come and sit with us, that we missed having him around, and that Ginny hadn't gone to get him because you and I thought we were too good to ask him ourselves--that she'd asked if she could and she'd been closest to the door."

"He thought we thought we were above him?" I asked softly. Harry nodded.

Luna stopped in a little later, and the woman with the lunch cart came through shortly after that. The six of us had a fine time on that trip. I'd never enjoyed myself more. When we got closer to Hogwarts, we changed into our robes. Neville and Ginny pinned on their prefect badges; Harry and I donned our Head Boy and Head Girl badges. Then, as the train pulled to a stop, Luna and Ginny scuttled off to join some of their other friends. Harry, Ron, Neville, and I got off together. Our final school year had officially begun.

As we got to the carriages, Ron stopped in his tracks. "What are those?" he asked uncertainly, pointing to the front of the carriages.

"They're thestrals, Ron," Harry said quietly.

Ron looked slightly ill. "Oh."

I touched his shoulder lightly. "Who was it?" I asked gently.

Ron didn't answer. He looked down at his shoes and climbed hurriedly into the carriage. Neville gave me an apologetic glance and followed him. Ginny and Luna appeared from nowhere and climbed in with them. Harry touched my arm gently and led me to the next carriage. Once we were seated and moving, I turned my eyes inquiringly to him.

Harry hesitated, then told me, "It's Percy. That's what took us so long to get back when I went to get him...he wanted to talk about it. Remember when Percy died?" I nodded. We had gone to the older Weasley boy's funeral earlier that summer. "Well, Ron saw him die...it was pretty bad. Ginny doesn't even know he saw it yet...he says I'm the first person he's told."

My hand went to my mouth. "Oh, no. I can't believe it."

"You can't, or you don't want to?" Harry asked me quietly.

As usual, he got right to the heart of the matter. "I don't want to," I admitted. "Innocence is a precious commodity these days, and I don't really want to believe that I'm the only one in our year who's never seen someone die before." I'd been exaggerating, but a thought struck me all of a sudden. "I'm not, am I?"

Harry hesitated for a minute. "You know, I'm not sure," he told me. "I mean, Neville and I have been able to see the thestrals longest. Then Lavender saw her father die...and Parvati saw her cousin...Dean saw Seamus die...and now Ron. So, yeah. In Gryffindor, at least, you're the only one in our year who still can't see the thestrals."

I didn't say anything as we alighted at the castle. What was there to say?

~~~

My seventeenth birthday fell on a Sunday this year. Harry had planned this one out too. Early morning, he woke me up and took me flying again, this time on his broom. We flew to a higher mountain than before, just in the right spot to watch the sunrise catch the surface of the lake. Then, as the first crimson rays crested the horizon and set the diamond waters ablaze, Harry pulled something out of his pocket and took a deep breath.

"Hermione, I...I have something I need to ask you," he said a little breathlessly.

I looked at him curiously. He took another deep breath and did the last thing I expected--he dropped to one knee and opened the small black box, revealing a ring with a small flower on top. Each flower petal was a fine diamond and the centre was a pearl. "Hermione Jane Granger, will you marry me?"

I gasped as he held out the ring. My hand trembled as I extended it, and he slid the ring onto my finger. Overcome with emotion, I flung my arms around his neck. He hugged me tightly, then drew back slightly, raised my chin, and kissed me.

"When do you want the wedding to be?" Harry asked me after he'd released me--sort of.

"June?" I suggested. "After graduation?"

"June works for me," Harry answered with a smile. He completed the sentence by kissing me again.

I don't recall exactly how we came to the consensus that we not tell anyone we were getting married until a couple of months beforehand. However it came about, the decision was made. Mentally, however, I was already compiling a guest list. I knew who my maid of honour would be; Ginny was my best girlfriend.

About a week later, Harry and I were sitting out by the lake. I was finishing my mountain of homework while Harry, who had less than I did and had already finished, read the Daily Prophet. Looking over at him, his brow furrowed with worry, I wondered why he read the paper if it upset him so much, although in my heart I knew why. And I couldn't help but wonder, with a lump in my throat, if Harry would live to June and graduation.

With a sigh, Harry put down his paper and turned his emerald eyes on me. "Mione?"

"Mmm?" I said, startled out of my thoughts.

"You're worried about June, aren't you?" he asked softly.

Did he think I was having second thoughts about marrying him? I swallowed. "Not really June. More like what might happen before June."

Harry nodded in understanding. "I've been worried too. D'you--" He hesitated, then finally asked, "D'you want to push the date up? Say, Christmas?"

A swell of emotion rose up in me. "It sounds perfect," I said a little breathlessly.

Harry smiled at me. "Guess we've got our work cut out for us then. We’ll need to get started."

"Just let me finish this essay," I responded, and Harry laughed.

~~~

Ginny was the first one I told, obviously. She looked a little nervous when I cornered her and beckoned her into my dorm. We sat cross-legged on my bed, face-to-face.

I took a deep breath. "Ginny," I said seriously, "I have to tell you something."

She looked really nervous now. "What?"

I kept my serious face for a split second, then grinned. "I'm getting married."

Ginny shrieked, launched herself across my bed, and gave me a huge hug. In the background, I heard a loud whoop of ecstasy indicating that Harry had told Ron.

"Congratulations, Hermione!" Ginny squeaked. "You and Harry, right? When's the wedding?"

"Christmas vacation, which brings me to my question. Would you be willing to be my maid of honour?"

"Duh," Ginny said with a grin, sitting back. "Of course!"

I opened my mouth to ask her about bridesmaid dresses when Parvati and Lavender came in, talking and giggling. They stopped when they saw us.

"Did you hear that shrieking a minute ago?" Lavender asked us, sitting down on her bed. "Like to have scared me out of my skin."

"That was me," Ginny admitted sheepishly. "I got excited is all."

"About what?" Parvati asked, sitting on her own bed.

"My news," I said, pleased. "I'm getting married."

More shrieks. That's what girls do, I guess--shriek and squeal. "When is it?" Parvati asked excitedly.

"Christmas vacation," I answered with a huge grin. "D'you two want to be my bridesmaids?"

"I'd love to!" Parvati squealed.

"Not me," Lavender said, sounding thrilled just the same. "I know you have that best friend back home you'd rather be your bridesmaid. But I'll come if you want to invite me. Why so soon, though?"

My smile faded. "It's...well, Harry and I were just worried that he won't live until June."

"Then why not Easter?" Parvati said sensibly. "Go down to Hogsmeade over Easter vacation..."

"We can't," I explained. "We're going back to Surrey for the wedding."

"Why?" Ginny wanted to know.

"We're going to invite Lupin and his aunt, and Petunia's a Muggle. Besides, I want my dad to be there and he's a Muggle too."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about him," Lavender said thoughtfully.

We spent the next hour discussing bridesmaid dress styles and colours. By the time I went downstairs a little later, we had decided everything.

Harry was sitting by the fire, grinning a bit. I joined him. "Took you long enough," he greeted me.

"Dress styles," I explained. "What did Ron say?"

"Mostly masculine whoops. Same with Dean and Neville...Ron'll be my best man, Dean and Neville will be ushers. Ginny?"

"Feminine shrieks and squeals. Same with Parvati and Lavender. Ginny says she'll be my maid of honour, and Parvati will be bridesmaid. I'm going to ask my friend from back home to be my other bridesmaid."

Harry smiled and held out his arm. I settled against him, and together we watched the fire burn for a while.

~~~

I worried at first that we wouldn't get everything done, but I was surprised how many people pitched in to help us. Mrs. Weasley took care of the food for the reception. Petunia promised to bake the cake. I sent Dad my measurements and he braved a bridal shop to get me a wedding dress, then wrote and said he'd keep it at the house until I got there. Everyone was quite helpful, doing anything Harry and I couldn't do between homework, his Quidditch practices (which I took to attending whenever I had the time), and our Head Boy and Head Girl duties.

Finally, the holidays rolled around. About half the school got on the train to go home--all the members of the D.A., our classmates, friends we had made--even some of our teachers were going to come. Harry and I sat with Ginny, Ron, Neville, and Luna, talking about the wedding, which was to be December twenty-third, two days after our arrival home.

Petunia and Lupin were waiting for Harry when we exited the platform. Luna's father had come for her, Mr. Weasley had come by to pick up Ron and Ginny. Neville, who like Harry and Ron had turned seventeen before the school year started, already had his Apparation license and, with a jovial wave, had simply Apparated to his home.

And my dad was waiting for me. I told Harry I'd see him in a couple of days, then ran to my father and gave him a hug. Dad's tall--six foot seven--and he’s strong, so he swept me up in his arms and twirled me around before letting me down. "Welcome home, baby."

"Thanks, Dad," I said.

Dad and I talked the whole way home about my wedding and the preparations. My bridesmaids had selected dark red dresses with long sleeves and bell-like skirts. Our flower girl was going to be Molly Mallone, my friend Caristìona's little sister, and her dress was a dark red sailor-type dress.

"What does my dress look like, Dad?" I asked him as we pulled into the drive.

"Come on upstairs, and I'll show you," Dad offered. He let me into the house and led me up to my room. Heading over to my closet, he stuck his hand in and appeared to lift something off the rack. "Close your eyes," he instructed me.

I closed them expectantly. There was a slight click of metal against metal, a rustling of a plastic bag, and then another click. "Okay...open them."

I did...and gasped. The dress was exactly what I had imagined when I was little. The sleeves were long and lacy, the top lace over white satin, the full skirt of the same white satin. It was beautiful.

Dad pulled a box off the top shelf of my closet and showed it to me. It was the veil--fine tulle over white chiffon, mounted on a silver tiara. "Oh, Dad, it's beautiful," I gasped.

Dad smiled warmly--and a little sadly. "Only the best for my girl."

~~~

Dad drove me to the church five hours before the wedding. I went into the room I was supposed to use to change, where my bridesmaids already waited. Caristìona helped me into my dress. Parvati took care of my hair. She used a HUGE bottle of Sleak-Eazy’s Hair Potion and finally got my hair under control, then twisted it into a bun. Kind of like the hairstyle I had at the Yule Ball, except it sat at the nape of my neck instead of the top of my head. Once she'd finished that, which took forever, we had about an hour to spare, so I pulled on my stockings and the satin slippers Dad had bought me. Ginny handed me my bouquet. I was actually rather proud of the bouquet; it was composed of flowers important to Harry and me. A petunia and a lily for his aunt and mother, a moonflower for Remus, a cluster of dogwood blossoms for Sirius, a poppy for his father, and a white rose for my father. (I didn't want to honour my mother in any way, shape, or form.) In the centre of the cluster, since this was a Christmas wedding, was a poinsettia; the ribbon wound around the stems was red and gold.

Caristìona draped my veil carefully, then stepped back in satisfaction. "There."

All of this took longer than you think. Mrs. Weasley stopped in after a couple of seconds. "They're ready for you. Come on out."

We took our places at the back of the sanctuary. I could see Harry, Ron, Dean, and Neville up front, wearing suits. The minister stood behind the altar. Mrs. Weasley took her seat, and Dad came to my side. I saw his eyes fill with tears. "You look wonderful, baby," he whispered to me.

"Thank you, Daddy," I whispered back. Daddy. I hadn't called my father that since I was about seven. It just seemed to fit the situation, though.

The organist struck up a wedding march. My little cousin Bailey, who was eight, marched up the aisle in his little suit, holding the pillow carefully. (Dad and Lupin had picked out the rings for us.) Molly went next, scattering the rose petals from side to side. My three bridesmaids went next, each clutching a red rose...and then it was my turn.

I rested my arm on Dad's as he led me up the aisle. Fearing I'd trip or faint if I looked at anyone in the pews, I focused on Harry. His hair was just as messy as always--nothing could make it lie flat--and he seemed kind of pale, but I thought he'd never seemed more handsome.

Dad let go of me as we reached the front row of pews and took his seat between Lupin and Mr. Weasley. I took the last few steps alone. Then Harry took my hand and the ceremony began.

First of all, to clarify: we weren't actually in a church. It was a wizarding wedding hall. Second of all, Dad and Petunia were the only Muggles in attendance, so the ceremony we were having was okay. It was a combination of Muggle and wizarding weddings; ergo, we had bridesmaids, ushers, etc., but the ceremony was a Crossing of the Wands ceremony. We repeated the vows read to us, then pulled out our wands. When his wand tip met with mine, a beam of light surrounded us both. I heard a couple of gasps, obviously from people who had never seen this ceremony before.

And then, finally, it was over. Harry leaned over and kissed me, and the hall burst into applause. We headed down the aisle together.

As we stepped outside the church, as people threw handfuls of rice, it finally hit me. I was married to Harry. I was irrevocably Mrs. Potter. I looked up at Harry--my husband--and grinned. He grinned back; I knew the same realisation had just struck him.

My dad, Remus and Petunia, and the Weasleys had all chipped in to get Harry and me a honeymoon; we were going to a small inn near a loch in Scotland. Dad drove us to the station and gave us the address of the inn. The whole wedding party saw us off.

We had a long walk on the lonely moor in the fading twilight, then returned to the inn for the dinner included with our reservation. That night, tired but happy, we went upstairs to our room and spent our first night as a married couple.

~~~

We returned to Hogwarts at the beginning of January after a glorious Christmas and even better honeymoon. People who hadn't been to the wedding stopped to congratulate us. People who had been to the wedding asked us how our honeymoon had been. After about a week, though, things settled down to completely normal.

Just before Valentine's Day, Ginny and I were nervously brewing a potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"What colour is it supposed to be now?" Ginny asked me, peering into the cauldron.

"Puce."

"Is this puce?"

"I think so...add the hair now."

"What colour should it be turning now?"

"Clear."

"We're good on that. You ready?"

"I guess." I took a deep breath and entered the nearest stall, leaving the potion outside with Ginny.

A few seconds later I came out with the final ingredient and added it. Ginny and I studied the potion nervously. "Five...four...three...two..." I muttered.

The potion suddenly flashed, blinked, and turned bright blue.

"Blue?" I asked Ginny uncertainly. "What does blue mean?"

Ginny picked up the recipe and read through it quickly, then gave a shriek of ecstasy. "Positive!"

I shrieked in joy. This was going to be great!

The next morning, I went to watch Harry's Quidditch practice. I wondered what I'd tell him. We hadn't discussed...well, anything really.

The team came off the field, and I was there to meet Harry before he went into the locker room. He leaned over and gave me a kiss. "Hey, Mione. What's going on?"

I took a deep breath. "I've got to tell you something."

He instantly looked worried. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really," I assured him. "It's just..." I hesitated, resting my hand lightly on my stomach, then smiled. "You're going to be a father."

A change came over his face. "A...you're..."

I nodded. "I mean, we didn't talk about...but..."

Harry hugged me tightly and swung me around. His emerald eyes were sparkling. "A baby."

I laughed from sheer joy. I couldn't wait to tell my father that he was going to be a grandfather.

~~~

The farther along I got, the more difficult it was to get around. By the time I entered my sixth month, I was big as a house and about as comfortable as an arthritic polar bear in Kenya. With a stomach virus. I had to move slowly and was stiff as I moved, I felt hot half the time, and two mornings out of five I had morning sickness. (Actually, by the sixth month I was pretty much over the morning sickness.)

But at this point, it was exam time. The fifth years were in the middle of their O.W.L.s, we seventh years were taking our N.E.W.T.s, and the rest of the students had just started their exams. We seventh years had taken Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Ancient Runes the previous week; so far that week we had taken Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, Arithmancy, and Divination. Our final exam was that morning, History of Magic, and the seventh years who no longer took it mostly slept in. Harry got up, though, and came down to wish me luck. When the Great Hall cleared after breakfast, Harry hung about in the entrance hall while I sweated out the exam.

I couldn't help but remember the last History of Magic exam Harry and I had taken in this room, right before we had gone to try and save Sirius. Praying nothing would go wrong this time (it would be just my luck if I collapsed into premature labour mid-exam), I started working through the questions.

I am not kidding; I finished the exam about five seconds before Professor Marchbanks called time. As I handed it in, I breathed a sigh of relief that I had not gone into labour.

Harry was still outside waiting for me when I finished. "How'd you do, Mione?" he asked me, giving me a brief kiss as I came out of the Great Hall.

"I think I did pretty well," I told him, smiling as I kissed him back. "I was afraid the whole time I was going to go into labour, though. Would've been just my luck, too."

Harry chuckled. I heard cheers erupting from the other rooms and knew that their exams had just let out too.

We were halfway upstairs when Harry clapped a hand violently to his forehead. "Ouch!"

"What's wrong?" I asked him anxiously.

"It's my scar," he said absently. "It hasn't been that strong since..."

"The movie theatre?" I asked nervously, remembering the massacre of that summer.

"No," Harry said quietly. "Before that. It hasn't been that strong since the graveyard."

I paled. "Oh, no."

Both of us glanced out the window at once. In the darkness beyond the forest, I saw a flash of something moving and knew it was neither centaur nor unicorn. I gripped Harry's arm "Harry..."

Harry had seen it too. All the colour drained out of his face. "We need to talk to Dumbledore. Immediately."

~~~

Twenty-five minutes later, every student in the school was assembled in the Great Hall. Dumbledore and the other teachers stood in front of us all, making sure we were all in. A silence fell over the group.

Dumbledore's voice rang out. "Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters are in the Forbidden Forest. This is not a game. This is real. I want all students fourth year and older--and any students who were members of the D.A. under Harry Potter--to remain in here to fight. All students younger than fourth year, and any unable to fight, should report to your common rooms immediately and shut the portrait hall. Open the portrait for no one! GO!"

Small children ran for the door. Harry nudged me towards the door. "Hermione--go up to the tower with the younger students."

I was shocked. "Harry, I was in the D.A. same as you."

"Yes, Hermione, but you're unable to fight," he said softly. "Don't worry about me." He placed his hand lightly on my swollen abdomen. "Think about the baby."

I swallowed. Harry was right. I had to keep care of the baby. Trembling, I gave him one more hug. Then, with one last backward glance, I followed the frightened crowd of younger children.

I don't recall how long we sat in that common room together, holding hands, trembling, praying. I know it seemed like forever, and the whole time I was trembling and tense. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I felt this odd sensation, like a fragile link had been severed. About twenty minutes later, Remus Lupin came in, looking battered and shaken, his right cheek split open and bleeding.

He looked round the silent common room. "It's over," he said in a tired sort of voice. "We won. Voldemort is gone for good."

The room exploded. Everyone was jumping up and down, cheering. Even I was grinning. Then Remus tapped me on the shoulder and jerked his head for me to come outside.

I stepped outside with him, and noticed all of a sudden that he looked...almost lost. "Hermione," he said gently, "I don't know how to tell you this, but...our victory had a dear cost. Harry paid it."

I felt all of the colour drain from my face. "Oh, no," I said in a small voice. "Remus, wh-what do you mean?"

He knelt down on my level and put his hand on my back. I suddenly realised he was trying to support me in case I fainted. "He's dead, Hermione," he said gently.

Everything seemed to go dark. About five seconds later, if I'd still been conscious, I would've been extremely grateful his hand was there.

~~~

They wanted to bury him at Hogwarts. I couldn't believe it. Remus was even willing to go along with it. But I told them no. Harry had wanted to be buried with his mother and father--and with Sirius. He would have wanted his aunt to be there, and she couldn't come if the funeral was at Hogwarts. And on a more personal level, I wanted him somewhere where I could visit him on a regular basis. Somewhere I wouldn't miss him. Somewhere where I knew his grave would always be marked and tended, where a three-headed dog wouldn't dig him up or a tree wouldn't grow on top of him without my bidding. Somewhere I could always see him, remember him, and love him. Somewhere I could be buried next to him, when my time came to die.

~~~

"And that's right here, right, Mum?"

"That's right, Sirius," Hermione said fondly. "Your father is buried right up here."

James, Sirius's brother, looked up at his mother. "How come you never brought us here before, Mum?"

"I wanted to wait until you were old enough to appreciate it. Now I know you'll love this place, respect it."

"Forever and always, Mum," promised Remus, the third of the triplets.

Triplets. Hermione smiled fondly at her boys as they climbed the hill towards the four monuments. All three of them had at least some element of Harry in them. James, in fact, who was the oldest, looked just like him. Sirius, the middle triplet, had Harry's messy black hair and Hermione's brown eyes; Remus, the youngest, had his father's emerald eyes and his mother's bushy brown hair. And even if all of them had looked like her, she would have felt that some of Harry was in them. And she often felt that Harry was with her. Just as he'd promised her twelve years before, he was always with her, even though she couldn't see him.

As the boys reached the monuments, Hermione caught up to them and looked solemnly. The stag marked James Potter the elder's grave, looking magnificent and noble. An angel, wings spread and arms outstretched, guarded the tomb of Lily Potter. An intelligent but playful-looking dog stood impishly above the final resting place of Sirius Black.

And the statue of a boy, marvellously carved even down to the messy hair, with one hand outstretched, a noble look in his lifeless eyes, stood proudly. Hermione hugged her boys--their boys--as she read them aloud the inscription on the base of the statue. "Harry James Potter. July 31, 1980-June 25, 1998. The Boy Who Lived. The Man Who Won."