Oh, my goodness! Such a lot of favoriting and WONDERFUL reviews! Thank you, Thank You, THANK YOU!!
This is it, folks - the last chapter in this story. Can't believe it's finally over!
Although, if ANYONE has any ideas on how it should continue, PLEASE share them with me!! Who knows - maybe there's more to this story than I thought!!
Please - PLEASE! - let me know what you think!!
With so much gratitude, fondness, and eager anticipation,
Island Girl,
A.k.a.
Nancy
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The Last Chapter….
All Good Things Come to an End…
And Yet, Some Things Have Only Just Begun…
Some time later that night…
In the far distance, beyond the outer edges of the lake, lightening flashed. The thunderstorm was still too far away to be heard.
She kept her face to the on-coming breeze generated by the storm. She liked the way the wind buffeted the bridge of her nose, the skin underneath her eyes, and fluffed the fine hairs that framed her cheeks and jaw.
She had come there to wait for someone.
It wasn't the lad currently walking towards her.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
With every clap, he came one step closer to her.
Lucky prat - every stride of his equals two of my own.
Her Fall Ball costume hadn't left a lot of room to secret away anything, but the inside of her shield was a suitable place to affix her want.
Too bad she'd left it against the wall, a good twenty feet from where she rested her forearms on the cut-stone railing of the Astronomy Tower. Granted she could've Accio'ed it wandlessly. But as of yet, it could stay where it was. The time would come - soon enough, too - when she'd have it permanently in her grip.
"Proud of yourself?"
She didn't turn to speak to him. Her gaze stayed where it was, on the constellation Orion. "Don't know what you're talking about."
He harrumphed at her denial.
"You'd've made a good Slytherin, Granger."
It was her turn to harrumph. "Yeah - it's terrible when things like integrity, loyalty, and courage get in the way of something as wonderful as that."
Malfoy rested a hip against the railing. He was close enough that she could smell his expensive cologne but not so close as she could feel any of his body heat. She didn't meet his eye but she could see that he still wore his elegant evening clothes.
"Slytherins have courage, integrity, honor, and our loyalty runs deep. We're also smart enough to know when to cut our losses instead of flinging ourselves needlessly onward despite the most probable outcome."
She guessed at his subtext, which had nothing to do with Sorting and everything to do with the looming final showdown between Harry and Voldemort.
"Are you trying to explain why you're going to do what you're about to do or are you using that to hide behind the things that you've done?"
How he managed to make a derisive snort sound polished was a talent all his own. "My father's, how shall I put this?, `choices' aren't mine, but they affect me. Can't do anything about that."
"I don't believe that." Her nose lifted fractionally. "Voldemort has made `choices' about Harry his whole life and, somehow, he's always been able to walk his own path." Her subtext was crystal clear as was the way she looked at, what she knew to be, his unmarked forearm. "Your life is your own, Draco, until you do something that can't be undone."
She didn't like the way Malfoy's dark chuckle insinuated that she was utterly naïve. Or the way he scoffed, "Is that what you think?"
He earned the glare she sent his way.
"Potter's danced to his tune for years." Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest and leaned towards her slightly. "One day, before the year's out, Granger, the music's going to stop. Then we'll see who's still standing."
She peered into his face and shifted her stance into one more contemplative than defensive.
"Are you hoping he'll win or that he'll self-destruct?"
She'd taken a chance at cracking Malfoy's rah-rah-Voldemort-façade, and won, even if it had been for the smallest of moments.
"Plan for the worst, hope for the best, and above all else, have an exit strategy - it's the secondary Malfoy Family creed." He tilted his head, glanced out at the school grounds and at the still distant lightening, before refocusing on her. "Let's just say that rose-tinted glasses clash horribly with someone of my unique coloring."
Hermione continued with their game of semantics. She didn't bother to hide her surprise at his use of that particular Muggle phrase. "How do you know that?"
Malfoy was too poised to do something like shrug his shoulders. "I had an aunt who was - how shall I say this? - a little more `Muggle-friendly' than her sisters."
Ahhh - Andromeda, Tonks's mother. That makes sense.
"You could learn a lot from her, Draco."
"Her seminar on familial banishment is always the talk at the Malfoy/Black Family reunions."
Well, there's that too, Hermione conceded.
An awkward silence stretched between them. She felt uncomfortable. They both had made assumptions about the other, and each of them was a little right and a little wrong.
She gave up on her watch on the storm. She leveled her gaze at the tall Slytherin who still hadn't moved closer or further away from her.
The light breeze lifted his bangs and the lapel of his robe.
"What do you want, Draco?"
He looked down at her, for no other reason than their difference in height. "To let you know that our deal still stands."
She rolled her eyes. "I know that." She mimicked his pose. "I'll continue to take all your Friday afternoon Head duties until we return from the hols; you'll go to Vectors and come January, you'll take over."
If Malfoy were to ever grin, this would be the time. As it was, she'd settle for the closest approximation: his wolfishness.
"Always the clever one." His wolfishness deepened; not sinister but definitely more predatory. "And yet, not as clever as she thinks she is."
She fought the urge to stiffen. It was an effort, though, to appear nonchalant. "And here I was thinking that we were getting along so well, Draco."
"Oh, we are. Don't mistake that." The corners of his mouth pulled back, revealing the tops of his gleaming white teeth. "I wasn't speaking of the deal we made at start-of-term."
"Then what are you going on about?"
"I'm referring to me not telling anyone about your not-so-little pet project."
That made her stiffen.
What caught her by surprise was that Draco Malfoy tapped the underside of her chin with a crooked finger. His expression held no malice. There was no warmth, but there definitely wasn't any malice.
"Like I said; you'd have made an excellent Slytherin, Granger."
With that, he stepped away, and made for the door.
She turned, faced Malfoy. And, he made sure he had the last word.
"By the way… You may want to tell Weasle-bee and Pott-head that McMillan knows what they did to him and he's not going to let this go."
With that, Malfoy gave her a very deep, very telling, bow before he sauntered through the door and, ostensibly, down the stairs.
She drew in a deep breath and let it out in one burst.
Draco Malfoy is so frustrating! One minute, he makes like he's grown up at least a little bit, and in the next, literally, he's back to being the same miserable prat he's been since First year.
She turned and faced the lake. Not even the promise of bad weather or the memories of a lovely night could distract her thoughts.
No, that's not entirely true. She chided herself. He didn't stop me from using his first name nor did he attack me in any way. Maybe there's a glimmer of hope for him afterall?
A pair of strong arms circled her waist. The point of a chin rested just above one of her ears. A wall of masculinely fragrant body heat spanned the length of her back.
She relaxed into the warmth generated by Harry. She shifted her arms so that she could pull him even closer to her.
She didn't look up at him. She didn't have to. "Malfoy figured it out."
"Someone was bound too."
She felt the rumble of his restrained emotions. She didn't think there'd ever be a time where Draco and Harry would call a truce or cease to antagonize each other.
"By the sounds of it, he figured out a couple of things."
She let the wind carry that ambiguous comment away. She didn't want to talk about what Harry thought of her complicated relationship with Malfoy. Instead, she rubbed her palms on the sleeves of his robe. She knew that Harry couldn't've liked watching Malfoy confront her, nor the way their conversation ended.
"Thanks for trusting me enough not to interfere."
He harrumphed.
What is it with guys and harrumphing?
"Let's just say that I learned my lesson well, Hermione."
She knew he was referring to the row they had last week.
She also knew what he was going to add a caveat.
"But just so you know - I trust them, `them' being anyone and anything that could, can, or will hurt you, to do everything in `their' power to do whatever it is `they' intend to do. Which is why I hold the right to protect you."
There was no getting around that. "I know, Harry." She had a caveat of her own. "Protection is a two-way street, Mister Potter. You best be aware of that fact."
"Oh, believe me, Miss Granger - I am."
The first peel of thunder reached their ears. Hermione felt herself respond to it with a certain sense of thrill even though the storm was still some ways off.
"You and storms, who'd have thought?" He nuzzled her hair and gave her a squeeze. "Who'd have thought a lot of things about you?"
She smiled and gave his arms a squeeze as well. "I don't know what you're talking about."
She could feel his chuckle at her half-hearted denial. "For years, you've been listening to Fred, George, me, Ron, not to mention all our escapades, and took the phrase, `the getaway is the crux of any good plan' to heart."
"Did I?"
"She said oh-so-innocently." Harry shifted his feet slightly more apart as he encouraged her to settle against him more completely. "It took me a while, but I figured it out."
"And what did you figure out?" She still pretended not know what he was talking about
"Actually, it was a lot of small things. Things you counted on people over looking." His admiration for her accomplishments and his deductions showed. "The key was something Ron said, something that didn't register until just a little while ago, once Ron and Luna walked off together and Dean and Ginny stayed glued to each other's sides."
She rocked slightly on the balls of her feet. "How's Luna?"
He loosened his grip, enough for the two of them to shuffle forward a couple of steps. He didn't let her go, though.
"Now? Better than she's ever been. Ron's little outburst embarrassed her thoroughly, as it did Ginny. The general consensus is that her dreaminess is deliberate rather than an innate personality trait."
She fought the urge to snort but gave into the impulse to chuckle. If there was ever a walking, talking, enigma, it was Luna Lovegood.
"Ron's totally gone on her. Not because everyone believes she's the Hooligan, but I'm sure that has something to do with it. I think it was a wake up call for Ron to hear his own voice saying out loud everything he didn't have the guts to say to Luna herself." He tickled her side lightly, and she squirmed slightly. "But I think you know - knew - that would happen."
She was a little breathless from his tickling. "I would? What am I, some sort of master puppeteer?"
"Honestly? Sometimes."
She could feel the nod of his head.
"Now, where were we before you attempted to distract me?"
She stayed mum. She was enjoying his attentions and the fact that he hadn't let her go.
It had taken Harry little more than six years to have Hermione in his arms like this. He wasn't going to let her go just yet.
He shifted his arms and rubbed his palms up and down her chilled arms. He liked the way she relaxed just a little bit more and settle more deeply against him. He tilted his head closer to her ear.
"Ron made a comment about the prank on Dumbledore, how it was apropos that Dumbledore's office had been turned upside down just like my life had been turned upside down by Dumbledore." He let go of her long enough to spread the folds of her robe out and round Hermione. "That got me to thinking… Who would do such a thing? Then I thought… Why would someone do such a thing?"
"That's a lot of thinking, Harry Potter."
He chuckled at her half-hearted admonishment. "Don't I know it."
He gaze was on the approaching thunderstorm, his body was fully aware of the girl in his embrace, and his memory dwelled on the span of time between when he found her on the Astronomy Tower and after he made sure Ron was okay.
"That led to more thinking… Whoever that someone was, they'd have to feel a bit of anger at Dumbledore, don't you think? I mean, that level of protectiveness could only have come from-"
"Someone who felt that Dumbledore might have failed you, on more than one occasion?" Hermione guessed.
"That, too. Not to mention that the prank would have given this person some sort of a means to vent his - or her - frustration at some of Dumbledore's decisions pertaining to me."
"Been nicking psychology books from the Muggle Studies classroom?"
"Hardly. Just had to think about things, that's all."
In his mind, he remembered events from the past six years. How Hermione had threatened the Dursley's. How Hermione had fretted over his nightmares. How she'd been outraged at his treatment by Umbridge. How she'd gone to every length to back him up even when she counseled him to do things differently. The fact that the only person she'd ever been physically demonstrative with was him and that she was the only person, aside from Molly Weasley, he'd ever accepted any type of physical emotional connection.
"Then, it all came together. Again, got Ron to thank for that." He felt her jerk slightly in surprise. "He said that every one has a signature; a tell. Something that says `hey, it's me, I did this'."
"Did he, now?" Her skepticism was blatant.
"Yep. Took me a while, but I eventually got it." He slipped one hand free and withdrew his wand from the inside pocket of his robe. "What took a while was figuring out just how literal your signature was, Hermione."
He whispered a charm and the tip of his wand glowed with a gentle golden light. With it, he drew words on the air in front of them.
Hufflepuff
Snape
Ravenclaw
McGonagall
Slytherin
Gryffindor
Nearly Headless Nick
Dumbledore
Then, he shifted the words so that certain letters glowed more brightly than others.
Hufflepuff
SnapE
Ravenclaw
McGonagall
SlytherIn
GryffindOr
Nearly Headless Nick
DumbledorE
"It was brilliant to stagger the victims the way you did, but not even you could get away from your need for symmetry."
"You learned a new word, didn't you?" She teased and didn't deny what he spelled out for her.
He ignored her good-natured jibe. "What was also brilliant was the fact that you successfully `framed' two of your closest friends which, in turn, preserved your anonymity while at the same time benefiting the House. Not to mention how I know you hate the lime-light."
He did, though, frown. "You know, now that I know this, it's a good thing that there's so much trust between us. From anyone else, this could give room for doubt."
He could tell she didn't like what he said, which was why he let her go when she started to wriggle away from him. He did, though, keep her at arms' reach by placing his hands on her shoulders and making sure she didn't turn her face away from his.
"Hermione, I trust you. Totally." He meant it. He also meant what he added, "But this level of manipulation is a little scary. Granted everything turned out all right in the end; your plan worked brilliantly. But to know that you could plan all this with this much accuracy, well… it's a little un-nerving, even for those who know you and for someone who really cares about you."
He hated the way he saw different emotions, ones not entirely happy, pool in and around her eyes.
"There's going to come a time when we're - I'm - going to need everything you have in order to have a chance at winning." The future loomed darkly. He couldn't imagine Hermione not at his side, either in battle or quieter times. "But you know how I feel about secrets. The last thing I want to do is keep something from you, even when I want to."
She didn't resist when he gently tugged her towards him. The fact that she wrapped her arms around him told him she didn't hate him for telling her what he did. His palm rose of its own volition and cupped the back of her head when she pressed her cheek to his chest.
Merlin, this is wonderful.
"That's why I did this, Harry. I wanted to do something fun, and different."
He tightened his arms. Enough with the heavy conversation; those will happen soon enough. "How'd you pull the prank on the Hufflepuffs?"
"You mean the Knights?" Her laugh was contained by his evening wear. "I was, for a briefest of moments, Sorted in Ravenclaw. It was enough to call on them."
"And the Won Shot Wands?" Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Ron said that…"
"Since when do the twins tell Ron everything? I swear, Harry, I've talked to Fred and George more in the past weeks than Ron has in the past year!"
She wasn't saying that Ron was out-of-touch with his own brothers. Between running a successful business and Ron still being in school, distance and the differences in their respective lives had taken their toll.
"So that's how you Silenced McGonagall?"
Her quiet laughter warmed him. "That? Those lozenges were sent to me from Madam Pomfrey to send back to the twins when the twins, somehow, slipped it into her start-of-term supplies. They'd hoped she wouldn't know the difference between those lozenges and her medicinal lozenges."
Harry conceded to letting her go as she straightened. The storm was growing closer, and she wanted to see it. He settled for standing next to her, much, much closer than Malfoy ever had.
"Snape?"
She shrugged. "That happened just like everyone said."
He bumped her gently. "I know about the Ravenclaw prank."
"You do, do you?"
He rose to her good-natured challenge. "Yep. It might've been Ginny's name on the box, and me and Ron might've delivered it, but those things came from your office. Who'd have thought that the Head Girl would prank?"
She didn't say anything. Her border-line smug grin spoke volumes.
He shifted so that he could see more of her. She did the same.
"Here's what I don't fully understand."
"What's that?" The vagueness of her question could've meant that she was referring to his question or any question he'd ever asked in his entire life.
"I get the whole robe prank on the Slytherins. I even get how you did it, I think. What I don't get is how you got away with it, when Parkinson made her Accusation."
She looked at him for a moment, then he felt her hand on his arm. "Think about what Dumbledore asked me."
Harry remembered everything about that disastrous afternoon. Including the question put to Hermione about the dragon's bones.
"Miss Granger, are you guilty of casting a Repercussion Spell on the bones of dearly departed Guilford?"
She shot his a mischievous smile. "Professor Dumbledore asked about the dragon's bones, Harry. Not it's preserved wings."
The girl has a love affair with semantics.
"And when Parkinson pressed me about where I was when Hufflepuff was hit…"
"You cut her off and deflected." Harry snorted, not with disapproval but with marvel with which Hermione walked between truth and perceived truth. "Man, too bad you don't have the same skill with a Beater's bat that you do with words."
Her expression darkened slightly. She never did like the fact that there was something she didn't excel at.
Harry had to know about Nearly Headless Nick. "How did you prevent him from being able to float through walls and stuff?"
She gave up any last shreds of maintaining her `innocence'. "Harry - I've spent HOURS patrolling the castle, by myself, when I've only had my shadow for company. If anyone had seen me, muttering to myself and tapping my wand at various expanses of walls, at doors, and such, what would they have thought?"
She was right; anyone would have thought she was reciting lessons or something.
"And in the Common Room, when you pushed McGonagall and tackled Malfoy?"
"Couldn't risk breaking the rules Dumbledore set," she admitted. "Professor McGonagall had already been pranked, as had Malfoy."
The mention of Malfoy reminded Harry that the Slytherin had been the one to find Hermione unconscious and had taken her to hospital.
"You know you had me worried." He pressed his lips together, to keep himself from saying more than he was ready to admit.
She nodded in understanding. "I'll admit that I didn't fully anticipate how much it energy it would take to do a full class work load and to do everything I'd planned."
He scowled. "That's why you nearly fainted at lunch that day."
She met his eyes, owned up to not telling him the truth about her dizzy spell.
"That's why, when I went to your office, I found you dead asleep?" He didn't like her pushing herself to the brink of exhaustion.
Her chin dipped up and down. "That morning, when I did Dumbledore's office… I'd taken my Rune work with me, so that's what it'd look like that's what I was doing, in case something went wrong."
"So Malfoy was right when he said that it was too early for you do what everyone thought you did." Harry hated giving the Slytherin any kind of credit.
She nearly guffawed. "I'm ambitious and all, but can you imagine what could've happened if I tried that at this stage?"
He glowered at her. His memory of her lying inert and unresponsive was entirely too fresh for his liking. "I know exactly what happened, Hermione. I stood by your bedside.'
She didn't like his connotations. "Harry, I understand that I scared you. For that, I'm sorry. I don't tell you what you can and can't do."
"Yes, you do! You do it all the time!"
"I remind you to do your homework, Harry. There's a big difference."
"I'm not going to debate semantics with you, Hermione."
Her hands bracketed her hips. "I'll do what I have to do."
Her tone hit home. It matched his view of his impending showdown with Voldemort.
He needed her to truly understand. For that to happen, he had to truly understand. He wasn't anywhere ready for that. He was seventeen, not a hundred and seventeen.
"Hermione. What about this?" He could, though, make her a deal. "Things seem to happen when we don't tell the other what the other is up to."
No longer defensive, she cocked her head to the side and turned out her hip. "Is this your way of asking, `I'll show you mine if you show me yours'?"
He thought about it for a second, then smiled. Leave it to her to say what he meant. "Yeah - I guess so."
This time, the silence between them was comfortable. Harry could feel a hint of anticipation bubbling up inside him. As much as he trusted Hermione, and by extension Ron, he'd been waiting for the chance to really open up to someone. Trust, for him, came in layers. He trusted people to behave in certain ways based on his experience with them. Like the Dursleys. He could trust them to treat him like dirt. He could trust Dumbledore to do things in Dumbledore's time. He could trust Voldemort to do everything in his power to kill him. He could trust Ron to be his brother, including the loyalty and sibling rivalry that came with that relationship.
He trusted Hermione as more than a sister, more than a best friend. He had always hoped for the chance to trust someone, and have them trust him, in a way that his mother and father had in each other.
This was hard for Hermione. He knew that. Even Ron knew that Hermione gave her loyalty to a select few, and allowed those she gave her loyalty to trust her. Her trusting someone back, though, was something she did in layers as well.
It made sense why he'd fallen for her. They were so much alike, but shared enough differences as to make sure they weren't each other's clones.
Her nervous laugh broke into his thoughts.
"We've certainly run a full gamut of topics, haven't we?"
Harry fidgeted. He could feel her on the cusp; he wanted her to cross her emotional barrier without his prompting.
She turned, looked back at the length of the lake and valley.
He did the same. He could wait for her, all night if need be.
Amazing how someone as bright, and clever, and self-assured on so many levels had trouble with this. He wanted a Time Turner so that he could prevent who ever it was from hurting her so badly. If there was more than, then so be it.
"There was a reason why I didn't travel with you and Ron to see Bill in Turkey this past summer."
He stayed silent, mentally cheering her on. Physically, he wanted to reach out and draw her hands from where she had them clamped by her arms.
"I received an owl from the Ministry." She took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. "At first I thought it had something to do with you." She quirked a rueful smile. "Let me tell you, I wasn't going to stand for that."
He knew she wouldn't, either.
Less riled, she only tightened the grip she had on herself. "As it turns out, it was the Department of Mysteries that wanted to see me." Her voice became quieter. "They told me that my name had come up, along with a handful of others, as a potential Unspeakable."
Harry had to really work as to not to say anything.
"Do you know that Unspeakables have to give up everything, Harry? Their names, their families, everything. All for the sake of being one of the guiding hands of the Wizarding world." She let out a sigh, her way of conveying just how much of an honor, responsibility, and sacrifice such a position would hold. "Think of it…"
He couldn't wrap his head around it completely, but he understood enough.
"All the professors know as they'd been contacted at the end of last term by the Department of Mysteries, before they sent me that owl." Hermione kept her gaze on the approaching thunderhead. "That's why Professor Snape has been giving me an extra-hard time in class."
She withdrew her hands from underneath her arms. She laced her fingers and leaned forward, until she rested her weight on the stone railing.
"That's not the real reason why I pranked everyone."
Her honesty brought a mist to his eyes.
"I haven't given the Department of Mysteries any commitment. How could I? Things are going to become very complicated very quickly…" Her allusion to the significance of the arrival of Halloween matched Ron's.
She looked up at his, her eyes shined with emotion. "I wanted to have some fun memories to buffer the not-so-fun memories I know that will be coming."
The first time Harry Potter kissed Hermione Granger was in a broom closet. The first time Hermione Granger kissed Harry Potter, it was prove a point.
The first time Harry kissed Hermione and Hermione kissed Harry was in the small hours in the morning, on top of the Astronomy Tower, and it was because neither could do anything else.
There wasn't anything to say. There wasn't anything to do. There wasn't anything… but emotion, connection, and the manifestation of that emotional connection.
Their lips separated. Harry's hand stayed where it was, on her cheek, his thumb softly stroking her skin. He leaned into the palm she rested against his cheek. "We're both going to need to get started on that, won't we?"
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He needed no second invitation. Or a third.
When he re-opened his eyes, he was slightly out of breath. Her hands had twined through his hair and he had her thoroughly pressed against the length of his body. Happiness bubbled up inside him; both he and Hermione giggled.
Sobering slightly, he tucked his head until his forehead touched hers. Her hands moved from his head and rested lightly his shoulders.
The first drops of rain started to fall. Lightening flashed. Several seconds later, a peel of thunder sounded.
Yes, there was a storm coming. It had already begun to brew. Yes, there was going to be forces beyond their control at work. But it hadn't arrived in full-force - yet. There was still time.
As he watched Hermione turn her face to the sky, and cheer for the thunder, lightening, and rain. Somewhere deep inside him, a kernel of true hope planted itself. He couldn't help but believe that, someway, somehow, there were going to be a lot kisses in the rain, kisses in broom closets, kisses under a sun-filled sky, and, hopefully, a deeply symbolic kiss in front of friends and family, in his future.
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