Bound Together

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Bound Together (1/?)

Chapter 1—The Betrayal

It was a cold and starless winter’s night, which made it so dark outside that nobody could see their hand in front of their face without the aid of artificial light or night-vision goggles. Down in the nearby village, the last light visible through a window was turned off as the occupant of the house decided that it was finally time to go to sleep. If it had been a larger town, perhaps the street lights would have remained on all night, but as there were only a few people living there, and the only road into town never saw any travelers after dark, the lights were turned off at midnight to save money. It was a quiet night, just like any other.

About a mile away from town, there was a hill. It wasn’t big; it was really more like a mound than a hill, but children from town would soon be sledding down it after the snowstorm that was coming into town in a couple of days. It would be hard to imagine a less likely place in all of Britain, for anything to happen at that time of night.

But this night was different. A man, tall, pale, and somewhat lanky, wearing a thick black cloak suddenly appeared at the apex of the hill. His eyes were an unnatural scarlet color, his nose was flat and undefined, and he had an extremely weak chin. This man didn’t exactly look human at all, but more like a daemonic being straight out of the pits of hell. In fact, the only thing missing was the forked tail.

“Come to your master, my servants,” hissed the man, who had a voice that was somehow colder than the night. Suddenly, others began to appear in a circle around him. These men, for they were all men, were also wearing heavy black cloaks, but they were all wearing black masks that covered their faces except for their eyes.

“And where is my newest servant?”

Two of the men stepped forward towards their master, muttered some words, and suddenly, another man stood before them. He, unlike the others, was wearing a hooded red cloak. The pale-faced man then stepped towards this figure and lowered the hood.

“Cornelius Fudge, you have finally decided to give up the losing fight, I see. Honestly, I still wonder what took you so long,” said the master.

“I was blinded by that fool, Dumbledore, into thinking that fighting you was worthwhile, my lord. However, I renounce the ways of cowardice and suffering to join you and become more powerful,” Fudge said.

“Yet you have power of your own, do you not? After all, you are the Minister of Magic, aren’t you?”

“That is true, my lord, but adding my power to yours could be beneficial to us all. I am sick and tired of trying to protect Muggles when I honestly feel that we should be ruling them. We are superior to them, and as such, we should be the ones in charge.” Fudge began to shiver from the cold.

“Ah, so you finally came to your senses. Then you are certainly most welcome into the fold as my right-hand man. To complete the process, there is yet one more thing you must do for me,” the master hissed. “Bring the victim forward, please, Lucius.”

One of the men in the circle then came forward, and pulled a piece of wood out of a pocket. After waiving it around in the air, an old woman suddenly appeared.

“Please don’t hurt me, I beg you. I’ve done nothing to you, and I have grandchildren to look after,” pleaded the old woman.

“Silence, Muggle. Never plead to Lord Voldemort, as it is of no use. Now, Fudge, do it,” hissed the Dark Lord.

“Indeed my lord,” responded Fudge. “Avada Kedavra!”

And in a flash of green light, the woman fell to the ground, dead.

“Welcome to the fold, Minister Fudge,” said Lucius Malfoy. “Now, if you would, please remove your cloak and bare your left arm.” Fudge did as he was told. Then, Voldemort stepped up to the Minister of Magic, pressed his wand to his arm, and the Dark Mark began to form.

“There’s just one thing left, my servant,” Voldemort hissed.

“And what would that be, my lord?”

Voldemort then extended his wand once more, pointed it towards Fudge, and roared, “Crucio!”

At that same moment, two hundred miles away, a loud scream awoke the entire population of Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione came charging into Harry’s room frantically. She was the closest person to him as they were Head Boy and Girl, and their rooms were joined by a small common area for the two of them. The panic on her face was evident, considering the fact that Harry hadn’t screamed that loudly in his sleep since the night Voldemort and his Death Eaters attacked the village of Hogsmeade last year. Unfortunately, the Aurors hadn’t gotten there in time to apprehend anyone, and all anyone could do was stare in dismay as the bodies were collected.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Hermione asked, already knowing at least part of the answer: Obviously, Voldemort had used one of the Unforgivable curses on someone, and given the intensity of the scream, it must have been someone involved in the fight against him.

“It’s Fudge.”

Hermione automatically assumed the worst thing she could think of: Voldemort had killed Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

“Voldemort killed Fudge? Oh, Harry. I know you didn’t like him all that much, considering the fact that he never believed a single word you said, but still…”

“Fudge isn’t dead. He’s become a Death Eater.”

Hermione pulled Harry into the hardest hug that had ever been given. This was a heavy blow to all those who were fighting Voldemort’s second rise to power. Now that the head of the magical government was no longer on their side, things seemed bleak indeed.

“We need to get to Dumbledore immediately. He needs to know,” Harry said, a dejected tone evident in his voice.

“I agree. Let me cover up a bit, and we’ll go together. I might suggest you do the same,” Hermione stated, noting that Harry was wearing no more than a pair of silk boxers. Not that she was wearing much more herself—just a pair of shorts and a tank top. She looked back at Harry, noticing the physique that he had grown into over the years. While it was true that he didn’t exactly look like Fabio, and he didn’t have a true washboard stomach, his muscles were quite well-defined. She thought, just for a moment, that she would like to see a bit more of him, but then she reminded herself that he was her best friend, that she shouldn’t be thinking about him like that, and that the last time she had dated one of her best friends, it had been disastrous.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Harry noted nonchalantly, though not taking his eyes off of Hermione for one moment. Her nightclothes left very little to the imagination, and Harry could easily see that she wasn’t the little girl that he had saved from a troll just six years earlier. She had filled out quite nicely, with a chest that he spent many hours a day admiring—when she wasn’t paying attention of course. If she had known about that, she probably would have caused him a significant amount of pain. She curved pleasantly in all the right places, and her legs had become quite long and defined. This, on top of the fact that many guys (but not Harry or Ron) would comment that she had the nicest butt in all of Hogwarts when she wasn’t around. Harry awoke from his Hermione-induced trance when he heard the door close behind her. No, he shouldn’t be thinking of her like an object. After all, she was Hermione, for crying out loud.

Harry pulled on his bath robe and stepped out into the antechamber that connected their rooms to the common room outside to find Hermione sitting by a fire that she had just conjured up to heat the room.

“Okay, let’s go,” Harry said.

It was a good thing that they were Head Boy and Girl. Among the perks of the job was that they were allowed to go out into the castle at night without worrying about running into Filch or Mrs. Norris. As they set out to Dumbledore’s office, they began to instinctively seek out each other’s warmth, as it was winter. They weren’t exactly fully dressed, and the castle had a tendency to be a bit drafty. If a passerby had seen them, he would have immediately concluded that the two of them were a couple. In fact, many had noticed how close the two had become over the years. Even Ron was beginning to get a bit jealous of Harry, as he still carried a bit of a torch for Hermione, though the feelings were never quite returned. However, as long as neither of them acted on the feelings that they constantly denied they had, even to themselves, he was fine. Actually, a good number of the residents had taken to starting a pool on when the two of them would get together. Fred and George, though no longer at Hogwarts, managed the pool from their store in Hogsmeade. Fortunately, their shop had not been attacked on that horrible night the previous year. Of course, Ron didn’t know, as the twins knew what the consequences of informing him would be.

At length, Harry and Hermione reached the gargoyle entrance to Dumbledore’s office. After speaking the password (“African Swallow”—over the summer break, Dumbledore took some time to study Muggle entertainment, and acquired a less-than-healthy obsession with the comedic style of the Monty Python gang), the two took the now-familiar moving staircase to the wizened old headmaster’s private chamber.

When they entered, they saw Professor Dumbledore at his desk, in his nightclothes, yet very much awake.

“What’s going on, Professor?” Harry asked, noting Dumbledore’s attire.

“Harry, your scream was loud enough to wake the entire castle. I figured you’d be coming by here shortly. What’s Voldemort up to now?”

“Fudge has gone and joined the Death Eaters.”

At this pronouncement, the expression on Dumbledore’s face changed, becoming highly distraught.

“For some reason, Harry, Hermione, I’m not surprised. He and Lucius Malfoy were quite chummy in their days here. When I found out that he had been selected to be Minister of Magic, I was quite worried, knowing the Malfoy family’s deep entrenchment in the Dark Arts. Someone that close to such a family installed as the head of our government was a bad idea in the first place. If I had known that the ministry would choose him when I turned the job down, I would have taken it in a heartbeat.”

“But sir, what happens now?” Hermione asked, the fear evident in her voice.

“Leave that to me. However, since we can no longer trust the government, all students will be allowed to stay here at all times, even over the summer holidays, especially those from Muggle families. I will also be calling those who are loyal to our side here to figure out what to do immediately. You two will also be invited to the meetings, as well as your friend, Mr. Weasley, considering that the three of you have a vested interest in our plans. Now, might I suggest that you get back to your rooms and try to get some sleep?”

With that, Harry and Hermione left Dumbledore’s office. When they got back to their rooms, neither wanted to let the other out of their sight, nor did they want to give up the comfort of being in the other’s arms, so they decided to sleep in Harry’s bed, as it was closer to the door, and the two of them were still quite tired.

When Harry came to consciousness the next morning, he was startled at the extra presence in his bed. Memories of the night before came rushing back to his mind, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing happened, he told himself, no matter how much he wished something would—though he would never admit it, even to himself. Harry took the time to just watch Hermione sleeping there, in his arms, looking so peaceful and content. He knew it was cliché, but he couldn’t help himself. What else was he supposed to do? Wake her up? No, he decided that it was probably best that he not disturb her, as he had no clue how she would react to their situation, especially if she didn’t awake naturally.

Just then, Hermione’s eyes opened, and looked straight into his. He was busted, and he knew it.

“You know, you’re not supposed to ogle your best friend, Harry,” Hermione joked sleepily. If she had meant it, she would have felt a bit hypocritical, as she had secretly been admiring him for a while now. She didn’t know when it had started, but all the same, it was a bit disturbing, being intensely attracted to her best friend.

“I wouldn’t have that problem if my best friend wasn’t one heck of a woman. Smart, funny, sassy, and the perfect body, what male with a pulse could possibly stop himself from admiring you?”

“You’re just saying that to be nice. I know I’m not that good looking. That’s Lavender and Pavati’s department.”

“Hermione, dear, look in the mirror some time, would you? You’re easily the most attractive girl in all of Hogwarts.”

“If I didn’t know any better, Harry, I’d say that you were coming on to me. But you really were never one for flirting. In fact, I’d be surprised if you even knew how.”

“There’s some truth to that statement. However, I stand behind my judgment. Several others do too. Heck, there are a lot of guys who are just queuing up for a chance to date you.”

“So then, why don’t they ask me out?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they witnessed what happened with Ron.”

“They should know that the whole Ron incident was a mistake on both sides. Besides, sometimes I think his idea of trying to chat up a girl is to get a rise out of her to the point that she must slap him, just because she’s tried everything else. Frankly, it might be a good idea if someone were to set that poor boy straight.”

“Perhaps the boy could take some lessons from the rest of the girls, if you can talk them into it. They could set him straight.”

“Or at least, they could give him a makeover. That would be good for a laugh.”

“I can just see it now: Ron with layers of makeup all over his face. That would be one heck of a picture, and you can bet that someone would take it.” They both started to laugh so hard that the mattress began to shake beneath them, moving their bodies against each other in a fashion that sent both of their minds into places that they didn’t belong. After all, they were best friends, nothing more. Harry’s reaction, in particular, was enough to make him stop laughing quite suddenly. Silently, he prayed that she wouldn’t notice. As it so happened, luck was with him, and she didn’t question why he suddenly sat up.

“You know, we’d better get dressed and get down to breakfast,” Harry said in a tone that he hoped was lazy.

“Yeah, it would be best, considering the fact that I’m actually quite hungry. I’ll go so we both can get dressed,” Hermione replied. She then got up, kissed him on the forehead (even hours later, he still felt a burning sensation where her lips touched his skin), and left the room.

Without a single moment’s hesitation, Harry leapt up from his bed and ran to the shower, where he turned the water on as cold as it would go. He had no clue that Hermione was doing the exact same thing in her bathroom.

Hermione was frustrated, to say the least. Even after an ice-cold shower, she still found herself uncomfortably aroused. Damn Harry and what he did to her without even knowing it. Perhaps if she ignored the fact that she absolutely needed him, the sensations would go away. Yes, that was the ticket: think about something else. However, that was easier said than done, as no matter what she thought about, Harry would come flooding into her mind, causing her even more trouble with some of her more basic urges.

Harry wasn’t faring much better. True, the cold shower lasted him long enough to get dressed, but when he saw Hermione’s bathrobe on one of the hooks beside his door, he lost control of his thoughts. If he couldn’t get himself under control soon, he’d be walking funny for a while, much to the amusement of every guy at Hogwarts. But no, he needed to maintain some sense of control, his reputation, his respectability, his ego demanded it. When he finally was able to will himself into a more presentable state, he picked up Hermione’s robe and went to return it to her.

Hermione was standing in her underwear when she heard a knock at the door. Suddenly, she realized that she had left her bathrobe in Harry’s room, and correctly concluded that Harry was on the other side of the door, her robe in hand. Her mind was racing. Here she was, barely covered, and Harry, the very thought of whom did unspeakable things to her, was on the other side of the door. She quickly slipped on her school robes and opened the door.

“Forgot your bathrobe,” Harry said, avoiding Hermione’s eyes. “Come on, let’s go get breakfast.”

“Can it wait a bit? I’m not exactly fully dressed yet,” Hermione stuttered.

With that statement, Harry lost the control he had wrestled from his hormones. Thank Merlin these robes were loose enough so that she wouldn’t notice his reaction to this statement.

“Yeah, I think we can,” Harry replied. “We can go when you’re ready.” To be honest, he needed to take care of himself before he could go out into the Gryffindor common room. With that, Hermione closed the door, and Harry ran up to his suite to make himself more presentable.

After fifteen minutes, the two of them were finally fully dressed and ready to face another day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Breakfast that morning had a surreal quality to it, Harry mused. The fact that Hermione was practically sitting on top of him notwithstanding, the fact that the head of magical government in the United Kingdom was now formally allied with the forces of evil began to surface in his mind. For the first time in his life, Harry found Voldemort to be of some use, as it kept him from reacting the way he had earlier this morning. Seeing everyone carrying on with their business as usual just didn’t seem right. Perhaps ignorance really was bliss. Being ignorant of the Fudge situation would certainly ease his mind. Maybe he wouldn’t tell Ron just yet, as he should be able to enjoy part of his day.

The arrival of the morning mail temporarily took Harry’s mind off of thoughts of impending doom. Three owls suddenly made their way towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione. After being relieved of their messages, they flew off. Then, one more owl came a crashing halt right there on the table. If the scene hadn’t been so pathetic, and the owl had not been Errol, the Weasley family owl, it might have been funny. He too had a letter for Ron, which Ron opened first.

“It’s from my mum and dad,” Ron announced. “I wonder what they have to say.” As he read, the color began to disappear from his face. “They’re coming here. All of them. They won’t say why though.”

Harry then turned his focus to his own letter, which was identical to the letters Ron and Hermione received. When he opened it, he was puzzled, as the message was quite cryptic.

Mr. H. Potter:

Your presence has been requested in the Hogwarts staff room at 3:00 today. You are excused from your classes for today.

“That’s odd. I’ve been told to go to the staff room at noon,” Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione.

“So have I,” said Ron and Hermione at the same time.

“Jinx! You owe me a drink!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Next time we’re in Hogsmeade, I’ll pay,” Ron sighed.

At this pronouncement, Hermione took out a piece of parchment and a quill, and proceeded to write something down.

“What was that?” Harry asked.

“That was a reminder that this git over here owes me a drink,” Hermione said, smiling.

At about 11:00, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had made it back to the Gryffindor common room and both Harry and Hermione had lost several games of chess to Ron. As their attention span waned, the length of the day suddenly dawned on them, and they were lounging on the couches lazily. It was Hermione who broke the bored silence.

“Since we’re all out of class for the day, what do you want to do?”

“Good question. I’m tired of Ron beating me at chess, and you can’t play exploding snap with only three people,” Harry noted with a yawn.

“How about we break out the old cloak and take care of that debt I’ve just acquired?”

“Ron, I seriously doubt that the three of us can fit under there,” Harry said.

“That’s okay, my parents decided to splurge on me for my birthday and got me a cloak of my own,” Hermione replied.

“And why haven’t you told either of us about this development, dear?” Ron was stunned by his friend’s revelation, but Harry seemed to accept the idea right away. “Don’t tell me that you told him and not me, Hermione.”

“I didn’t actually tell Harry about the cloak. He saw me with it one evening when I was out on rounds. They’re actually quite useful for lulling students into a false sense of security, you know,” Hermione replied, somewhat exasperated at Ron’s attitude.

“And why did you feel that you couldn’t trust me with this information?”

“Ron, who has been caught out in the halls at night more than anyone else in the history of Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

“Well, the last time I was in Filch’s office, I managed to get a look at his files. It seems that record is still jointly held by James Potter and Sirius Black,” Ron said with a look of amusement on his face.

“Hermione, could you verify this? Surely Hogwarts: A History would say something about this,” Harry besought.

“For the first time in his pathetic, miserable life, our dear Ron here actually got something right. However, it isn’t in Hogwarts: A History, but in The Best Magical Pranks of All Time, Second Edition by James Potter, Fred Weasley, and George Weasley,” Hermione said, in a tone that was something of a cross between cooing and pompously omniscient.

“My father wrote a book with your brothers?”

“Don’t be so thick, Harry. He wrote the first edition. As a lot of the information in that book was still quite good and re-used in the second edition, Fred and George felt it best to give him some credit. I’ve been helping with the research. That’s why I’ve been out at night so much lately.”

“Likely story,” said Harry and Hermione.

“So, are we going to Hogsmeade or not?” Ron was apparently thinking with his stomach again.

“Okay, just wait here while we get our cloaks,” Harry said. And with that, Harry and Hermione went into their suite.

Once Harry and Hermione got to their private common room, Hermione turned towards Harry and looked him straight in the eye for the first time since he had his dream.

“Why didn’t you tell him about Fudge?” Hermione implored, and her tone demanded that Harry give her an honest answer.

“I just want him to enjoy part of his day. If I had told him about it right then and there, there would be absolutely no way we could at least try to put the recent turn of events on the back burner for a while and let Dumbledore deal with it for once. He’ll find out soon enough, I think. In fact, I’d be willing to bet all of the gold in Gringotts, as well as all the gold in the Muggle world that the notes the three of us got are in some way connected with Dumbledore’s plan. And since he knows more than we do when it comes to dealing with these situations, it would probably be best to let him do the planning and organizing.”

“That’s probably the most thought-out thing I’ve ever heard you say, Harry.”

“Should I take that as an insult?”

“No, you shouldn’t. You at least are not embarrassed to give an honest explanation for anything.”

“And you don’t think that was an honest explanation?”

“Actually, I do. I can always tell when you’re lying to me.”

“We’d better get the cloaks before Ron suspects us of doing anything illicit,” Harry suddenly snapped out after a short silence. If he hadn’t broken eye contact with her right then, he would have probably found himself doing things with Hermione that you aren’t supposed to do with your best friend.

“Sure took the two of you long enough? What did you do, have a quickie?” Ron asked as though he were a guy trying to extract information about a reluctant friend’s sex life.

Harry quickly glanced at Hermione, and their eyes locked once again, but this time the expression was far more playful, though the sparks were still there.

“Oh, crap, Harry, he’s found out about us. I knew we should have put that silencing charm on the room before we went too far,” Hermione quipped, but Ron was the only person who found the joke funny. Harry found it to be pure torture. Figuring that turnabout was fair play, he decided to play along, hopefully making her as aroused as he was becoming.

“Well, just looking at you makes me forget about everything else, you know, dear,” Harry said in a playfully seductive tone. This, apparently was too much for Ron, who hadn’t gotten over Hermione, despite the fact that they had broken up two years earlier in a display of verbal sparring not seen since Cassius Clay’s pre-match onslaughts.

“Okay, you two. You’ve had your fun at my expense. Cut it out now, before I have to lock the two of you in separate rooms for the rest of the year.”

Hermione was just as thankful as Harry was for Ron’s demand that they stop. Harry’s little line had more of an effect on her than anyone else would ever know. In fact, she began to dread going outside, as it was snowing out there, and she didn’t want her knickers to be covered in ice. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Ron was there, she probably would have jumped Harry right then and there.

At this point, Ron came to a startling revelation.

“There are three of us, but we only have two cloaks. Two of us are going to have to share.”

“Well, Ron, I don’t exactly trust you when it comes to the two of us being that close together. I most certainly don’t want you to try to feel me up, and I know how you can’t resist temptation. I think it would be best if the two of you shared Harry’s cloak and I went solo in mine.” Harry couldn’t help but agree with Hermione’s plan for a myriad of reasons. First, her observation about Ron trying to cop a feel was dead-on, and he really didn’t want to put her through that. Then, there was the fact that he most certainly wouldn’t be able to make it out of the common room with Hermione right up against him, underneath an invisibility cloak, especially after the exchange that they had just had in regards to Ron’s quickie joke.

So, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way through the castle under their cloaks to the statue of the one-eyed witch, which concealed a passage to the back room at Honeydukes. Harry had learned of the passage from a map that Fred and George Weasley had given him back in his third year, and that his father had helped write when he was in school. The three of them had used that passage so many times though, that they didn’t need a map to find it. In fact the most difficult part of the trip inside the castle was the fact that they were traveling in two separate, invisible groups, and had no way of finding out where the other group was without revealing their presence. They probably wouldn’t have even bothered with the invisibility cloaks if it hadn’t been for the fact that they were using a secret passage, and they didn’t want to get caught using it. Upon reaching the statue, Hermione spoke the password, which alerted Harry and Ron to her location. It turned out that she was just to their left, and the three of them slipped into the passage without anyone noticing anything was up.

Once in the passage, the cloaks became pointless, as there was nobody who even knew about the passage there at Hogwarts, and even if someone did know about it, he or she would have no reason to suspect that the Head Boy, Head Girl, and their best friend would be using it to make an unscheduled trip to Hogsmeade.

The Three Broomsticks was having the slowest lunch hour Madam Rosmerta had ever seen. In fact, she didn’t even question what three Hogwarts students were doing in her establishment on a weekday, when for all purposes, they should have been in class. She was just thankful for the business.

“So, what brings you three into town today?” she asked, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down at the bar.

“We were given the day off today, and Ron here owed Hermione a drink,” Harry said.

“That, and we might want to pay a small visit to my brothers,” Ron supplied. Fred and George had moved into Hogsmeade and had entered a partnership with Zonko’s Joke Shop, along with Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet. The nature of the personal relationship between the five was hard to explain. It seemed that they were dating each other simultaneously, and none of them had a problem with it. In fact, this arrangement had developed about two years ago, when the fivesome started up their admittedly confusing relationship. When Fred and George told their mother about their romantic situation, Mrs. Weasley almost put them both under the Cruciatus Curse. Arthur, however, took it quite well. As long as they were all committed to each other (and they were), it was fine with him.

“What’ll it be, dears?” Madam Rosmerta asked, though as she already knew the answer, she began to fill up three mugs with butterbeer.

“The usual,” Ron, Harry, and Hermione chimed in. Then, to everyone’s surprise, Harry added, “And something for yourself as well.”

So, they spent the lunch hour sitting at the bar, drinking butterbeer and eating fish and chips for the next hour, talking about nothing, really. While butterbeer isn’t all that strong, though, Ron had one too many in too short of a period of time, and he was beginning to get a little tipsy. He completely forgot about the drink he owed Hermione in his altered state, but to be honest, Hermione didn’t really care who paid. Before they got up to leave, Harry put down two Galleons on the bar and told Madam Rosmerta to keep the change.

The walk to Zonko’s, though, was a bit more interesting. It turned out that Ron was a rather blunt drunk. He wasn’t really mean, but the alcohol seemed to make it so that he just blurted out whatever came into his mind.

“So, when are you two finally going to admit that you’re in love with each other?” Ron asked, his speech slightly slurred.

“Ron, what are you talking about?” Hermione asked, the embarrassment evident on her face and in her voice.

“Whatever gave you the idea that there was anything going on between us?” Harry blurted out, just as stunned as Hermione was.

“It’s obvious, just by looking at the two of you. There’s a spark in all four of your eyes that I’ve only seen once before, and that was when Gin was going on about you, Harry.”

“If I was in love with Hermione, what would you do about it?”

“Well, Harry, considering that it’s you, I’d probably just throw a hex or two at you and then go on my merry way, not minding about the two of you. Besides, the looks you give each other are beginning to make me nauseous, and I doubt that any hex, curse, or fist could stop it. Now, if it were any other guy, he’d be in St. Mungo’s Intensive Care Unit for a few years or so.”

“Surely, Ron, you can’t be serious. I know how overprotective you are of me, and you’ve always been a jealous ex-boyfriend who never quite seemed to figure out that the relationship was over.”

“Hermione, I’m too drunk to come up with a lie right now. Seriously.”

“I’ll give you that.”

The twins’ apartment, which they shared with their lovers, was actually quite tastefully decorated. Hermione silently mused that the décor was probably meant to try to make up for the lack of decency that the flat had when they were there. Perhaps it was her more conservative nature, but she actually felt uncomfortable in that apartment, considering the relationship with the inhabitants. But then again, it might also come from the fact that Fred and George Weasley lived here, and their practical jokes were legends.

“So, what brings you lot out here today?” Angelina asked Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“We got the day off for some reason, and we decided to pay my brothers a visit,” Ron replied, the slur in his speech noticeable.

“You do know that there is a potion for when you want to drink, but don’t want to get drunk, Ron?”

“Do you have some here, Angelina?”

“How could anyone live with Gred and Forge Weasley without it?”

“You mean Fred and George,” Hermione supplied.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“No, you said Gred and Forge,” Harry said, barely holding in the chuckle. He wondered if Angelina had ever heard the twins refer to themselves by those names, as he had back in his first year.

“Oh, well. They’re practically interchangeable. Except, of course, when you’re having a ménage a trios with them.”

“Angelina, my intoxicated mind did not need those mental pictures,” Ron exclaimed. Harry and Hermione also expressed similar sentiments.

“Perhaps it would be best not to talk about that part of our relationship, I gather?”

“Right in one,” Hermione said. “So, about that potion?’

Angelina went over to the ice chest in the kitchen and pulled out a vial of a clear liquid, and a small cup, into which she poured some of the liquid. When she got back to Ron, she handed him the vial, which he took and emptied in one gulp.

“That should set you straight shortly. However, Fred and George aren’t here right now. Fred is currently somewhere in Spain, looking for materials for the next invention, and George is taking care of Zonko’s business down in London today. Thankfully George will be back in time for dinner, as I would at least have one man to be with, even if I have to share him with two other women. It really just isn’t the same without the guys. Although, Katie is a surprisingly good lay, even without the guys, considering the fact that she is the quiet one.”

“Again, too much information, Angelina,” Harry said, beginning to get disgusted with his old Quidditch team’s carousing.

“I’m actually feeling a bit better now. Tell the twins we stopped by,” Ron said, obviously sober again. All three of them were in a bit of a rush to get out of there, as they certainly didn’t want to know about the goings on in the flat’s two bedrooms.

The three of them then made haste to leave the apartment, as none of them wanted to hear any more tidbits about what its five occupants did after dark.

“I’d say that I’m officially freaked out by your old teammates, Harry,” Hermione said, the disapproval evident in her voice.

“At least you’re not related to two of them, Hermione,” Ron said, matter-of-factly.

“For once, I’m going to agree with you on that sentiment. Merlin’s beard! It took extreme acts of perversion to get the two of us to agree on something, Ron. I think that might be a little perverse in itself,” Hermione remarked, and Harry shared her astonishment at the fact that she and Ron had agreed on something. “Although, they might be a good source of first-hand information for a little research project I’m doing on my own.”

“What, something on how sick and wrong people can be if their names are Fred and George Weasley,” Ron offered.

“No, you prat. How thick are you anyway?” Hermione was beginning to get red in the face.

“From what you’ve said over the last six years, I seem to be thicker than old molasses in January.”

“Okay, you two. Do I have to send you to your rooms without any dinner?” Harry shot at his arguing friends.

“Oh, all right,” Hermione said. “Look at the time! We need to get back to the castle for that meeting!”

“The meeting! I totally forgot!” Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand and began to run, with Ron chasing after him.

Bound Together

Author’s Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I’ll try to keep the fivesome’s hormones under control next time they appear, but I won’t make any promises. In fact, their relationship has given me disturbing cookie ideas that might appear on other sites. If this chapter gets a bit boring, I apologize. There will be more action in future chapters—take that as you will.

Chapter 2—New Foundations

The Hogwarts staff room was filled with high-ranking Ministry officials, Aurors, and other people known for their association with Dumbledore. Harry was able to recognize a good number of the people in the room: Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody was standing in a corner, brooding, Remus Lupin and his dog Snuffles (known to a few as Sirius Black) were sitting by the window, Arabella Figg was standing in the middle of the room, talking to Mr. Weasley, and all four heads of houses, Snape, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, and Professor Flitwick were there as well, pacing around. Harry and Hermione took seats on the couch next to Lupin’s chair, and Ron sat across from them.

“So, Professor Lupin, Snuffles, how’s it going?” asked Harry.

“Ah, pretty well. Had to get Snuffles licensed with the town government where I live. Can’t be too careful. He’s also still stinging about that last visit to the vet. He really didn’t appreciate the rabies shot they gave him.”

“Poor Snuffles,” Hermione said, and then began patting Sirius on the head. He would have growled at her if he didn’t have to keep up the whole dog persona.

“Snape’s been scowling at the two of us since we got here. I suspect that he’s still stinging about the loss of the Order of Merlin when Snuffles here escaped from the castle.”

Snape overheard this comment, and while he knew that Sirius had never been a Death Eater or allied with Voldemort in any way for any length of time, he still would rather see Sirius in Azkaban for the rest of his life for a prank that Sirius pulled on him many years ago.

“That dog of yours belongs in Azkaban, Remus, as he tried to get me killed for a laugh, if I remember correctly,” Snape spat.

“He wouldn’t have pulled that prank on you if you had kept your oversized nose out of places where it didn’t belong, Severus. Though I agree with you that the joke was in bad taste, it’s actually quite lucky he pulled it on you then. If he hadn’t, you may have walked straight into your grave, as none of us would have known until it was too late.”

“I always thought that curiosity killed the cat, not the Hogwarts student.”

“Well, McGonagall knew about it the entire time, and I did actually kill Mr. Norris. Why Filch ever got another cat is beyond me, though.”

“You killed Mr. Norris?” Snape said, looking at Remus in an entirely new light.

“Yes, I did. Frankly, I don’t know of any student that actually liked that cat.”

“I must admit, it was quite annoying.”

“Wait? What do you mean, Mr. Norris?” Harry asked.

“Shut up, boy,” Snape spat at Harry.

At this moment, Snuffles pounced on Snape, knocking him to the ground. He gave the Potions Master a steeled look of sheer contempt and emitted a low, menacing growl.

“Boys, boys,” Professor McGonagall said, quite disapprovingly. “Break it up this instant, or I shall be forced to remove you both from this room. If you cannot behave like civilized wizards, then there is no place for you here. Professor Snape, you shall not address anyone like that when we are in this room.”

Sirius then transformed into his human form, and shot one more contemptuous stare at Snape, then walked back over to stand between Remus and Hermione. However, before Harry had a chance to say anything to his godfather, Amos Diggory walked in the door.

Amos Diggory, who worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry, was the person Harry was most worried about, as his son, Cedric, was Voldemort’s first publicly-known victim from this reign of terror. Harry had been there that night, and still blamed himself for Cedric’s death. There were nights when he couldn’t stop himself from reliving the terror of that night. If only he had taken the TriWizard Cup alone, instead of coming up with the idea of drawing for the Tournament Championship, Cedric would still be here today.

“Hello, Harry,” Mr. Diggory said calmly. “I wonder where Dumbledore is. After all, he is the one that called this meeting, why shouldn’t he be here at it?”

“I honestly don’t know, sir,” Harry replied, glumly, wishing that he could be anywhere but here. “He should be here shortly. You should know that your son’s death still haunts me, sir, and that had I known…”

“Harry, nobody really can see the future with much accuracy. There was no way you could have known that Voldemort had turned the cup into a Portkey. I wish I could understand how you feel about his death fully, but I’ve never been a murder witness. You should never have had to see that. Nobody should ever have to witness a murder. I’m just glad that you were able to bring him back so we could grieve properly. Bertha Jorkins’ family didn’t have that luxury, much like most of Voldemort’s other victims.”

“But I should have been able to save Cedric, somehow,” Harry said, staring at the floor.

“There was no way anyone could have done that. Though there is obviously a way to survive it, as this conversation demonstrates, nobody really knows what it is, as the only two witnesses don’t know exactly why the curse failed. There really is no reason to blame yourself for Cedric’s death,” Mr. Diggory said, trying to cheer Harry up.

“That’s what everybody tells me, but for some reason, it just doesn’t help. At least Cho is gone. She felt that I led him into a trap in order to get him out of the way.”

“Well, I must say that from what I’ve heard about her reaction to you after that night, I must say that I was appalled. Though, come to think of it, that news shouldn’t have been plastered over the wizarding press, either. But you know the press, probably better than anyone else in this room. Anything to sell another copy.”

Harry shuddered as he remembered the way the press hounded him through his entire fifth year. As he wasn’t in touch with the wizarding world during the summer, save for letters from Hermione and Ron, he didn’t know what kind of hailstorm the news of Cedric’s death caused. Dumbledore was able to protect him from the onslaught during the summer using the same charms that protected Harry from Dark wizards at Privet Drive, but once he was back at Hogwarts, journalists had come out of the woodwork to hound him. Though Dumbledore tried to stop them from entering, they were able to sneak into the castle using some of the passages from Hogsmeade and remain in the fairly large castle undetected for a while, until Harry came their way. Harry himself had come out of the experience having learned how to express himself a bit better as well has having learned how to deal with the press.

“I just wish there was something I could do to make it right,” Harry said.

“The only person to whom you need to prove anything is yourself, if anyone at all. However, if that’s the way you feel, just helping in the fight against You-Know-Who is enough to keep me going. I know I haven’t been able to sleep well since that night, and I don’t think I will be able to do so until You-Know-Who is gone once and for all. That, and your strength to carry on despite the emotional hardship that You-Know-Who has put you through has more than proven you to everybody in our world.”

“Why? I didn’t defeat him the first time. Though my mum’s sacrifice for me was somehow able to protect me from that curse, it was her act, not mine, that gave us those thirteen years of peace. Not me, her.”

“But I know about your other encounters with You-Know-Who. Dumbledore told me himself when he was explaining what happened to Cedric. Your encounter with You-Know-Who at the end of your first year was enough to prove to me that you are tough and good enough that you wouldn’t have done anything to Cedric.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, Dumbledore walked into the room, and a hush swept over all those gathered. The look on his face was not the usual, cheerful expression, but far more careworn and grave.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Dumbledore announced. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. It has come to our knowledge that Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, has become a Death Eater.” A stunned silence resonated for a moment over the gathering. Suddenly, a witch that Harry didn’t recognize stood up.

“You can’t be serious, Albus. Fudge is one of the leaders in the fight against You-Know-Who. Surely, he wouldn’t betray us.”

“Please, Eleanor. His name is Voldemort. Call him by his proper name. There is no reason to fear his name. He is only one of a long list of foes to that which is good in this world, both past and present. If we fear his existence, we cannot defend everything we hold dear. But what I said is true. Our list of allies grows shorter by the day, and now we cannot even trust our own government.”

“So what are we going to do?” Eleanor asked.

“That’s what I called everyone here for. Unfortunately, we are going to have to step up our efforts against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, now that Fudge has joined his ranks. As the government cannot be trusted to enforce its laws, we need to inform the Aurors about this most unfortunate development.”

“Consider that done,” Mad-Eye Moody growled. “I’m pretty sure that most of my colleagues would not be surprised by this chain of events. Many have been suspicious of Dark involvement in the government before. In fact, a few even thought that Barty Crouch was among those who secretly supported Voldemort. However, I don’t know how many of the younger, more able Aurors would believe me, considering my reputation. Perhaps it would be better to send me with a letter to convince them. However, I have taken the liberty of securing a few valuable and trustworthy Aurors to assist us at this early date. Unfortunately, none of us can march straight up to Fudge and place him under arrest, as we must appear to be aligned with the Ministry. After all, they are the ones that cut our paychecks, and we don’t control the courts.”

“That is another point that needs to be taken care of. Our efforts cannot succeed without the ability to try anyone accused of Dark activity, and we cannot trust someone allied with the Dark side to fairly judge and punish those committing the same crimes of which he is guilty,” Dumbledore said. “Unfortunately, due to the increasing age of those that we know we can trust, their numbers are dwindling. In the past year, Fudge has installed four new judges, though we don’t know how many of those benches were vacated by intimidation or other methods of ‘persuasion’.”

“What about Demetra Connally? I happen to know her quite well, and I know that both she and her husband, who is among the Aurors I have recruited, are both willing to stand with us,” Moody announced. “She is known for being level-headed and respected among the other judges. She’s even managed to help me out a few times.” Everybody there knew about Moody’s paranoia and attack reflex, so the fact that he would have needed a judge’s help was not a surprise to anyone.

“I shall be owling her after the meeting,” Dumbledore said. “Now, Arthur, I fear that with this new change in its leader’s attitude, wizarding-Muggle relations will be put to the test. Muggle-baiting will probably become much more common. Therefore, many of you who are not otherwise employed will be helping Arthur track down charmed Muggle items and make sure that they don’t fall into Muggle hands.” Dumbledore paused for a moment and asked, “Is your son willing to help us?”

“Unfortunately, he refuses to believe that anything is amiss. He’s too focused on his career and potential for advancement to see the truth. Therefore, it would be best to leave him to his job,” Arthur said somewhat grimly.

Ron looked a bit uncomfortable at the news that his brother refused to believe his father, but remained silent. Harry’s attentions, however, began to drift to the girl sitting next to him. How on earth was he supposed to concentrate when he was inhaling the intoxicating scent of Hermione’s hair? A part of him wanted to bury his face in her hair forever, just soaking in that scent. What shampoo did she use to get her hair to smell so good, Harry wondered. He tried to think exactly what her hair smelled like, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything but Hermione. Turning to look at her, his eyes fell upon her face. Though she never wore makeup, Harry didn’t feel that she needed to. It would have been that one extra brush stroke that ruins the painting. No, he liked her face just the way that it was. It was all he could do to keep his hands to himself instead of just reaching over to touch Hermione’s natural perfection. Those brown eyes, whose sparkle never seemed to fade, her smooth, clear complexion, and those red, oh-so-kissable lips were right there, teasing him, beckoning for him to forget everything and act on what he felt.

For her part, Hermione wasn’t as attentive as she usually was, either. In fact, she had caught even less of the meeting until, just by a casual glance around the room, her eyes fell onto Harry. The one person that was always there, no matter what. Her best friend of six years. And one hell of a looker too, Hermione thought. She could spend days just staring at his face and its almost-angelic quality. But what got her completely lost was his aftershave. True, it was late in the afternoon, but she could somehow still smell traces of it on him. She made a mental note to find out which brand he used and get him some more of it. Hmm, maybe I could help him out with using it one morning, Hermione mused. And with that, she slipped into a daydream.

Harry was in the bathroom one morning, getting ready for the day. He had just showered, and was reaching for his razor when there was a knock at the bathroom door. Slowly, the door began to open, and on the other side was Hermione in her bathrobe.

“Good morning, Harry,” she said, with a gleam in her eye that he had never seen before.

“Hermione! I- I’m not exactly dressed,” Harry stammered. In fact, the only thing on Harry was the towel he used to dry off with after his shower.

“I can see that. Could you use some help?”

“I’m just shaving.”

“I know. May I?”

“I don’t know…” Harry said, but he was just melting at the thought of what she wasn’t wearing under that bathrobe. Slowly, she stepped up to him and reached for the shaving cream. As she shook the can, a seductive smile spread across her face.

“Calm down, Harry,” Hermione said as she pressed down on the top of the can, spreading the shaving cream all over her hand. “I’ll be careful.”

Harry watched intently as Hermione rubbed her hands together, building up lather on both hands. It was all she could do to keep herself focused on the task of slowly seducing him, as his lack of clothing provided her a good look at his chest and torso, which she wanted to touch so badly. But that will have to wait for a bit later, Hermione thought.

Reaching up to his face, she gently started to rub the shaving cream onto Harry’s face. His emerald eyes began to darken, and she could tell that he was beginning to catch on to her plan. Just as she finished with lathering him up, she reached over to the sink to wash the extra cream off of her hands. Turning around, she picked up his razor and muttered a charm on it so that while it would effectively take care of the unwanted facial hair, she wouldn’t actually cut his skin. She reached out a hand to him, which grazed his chest. She could just feel the shudder running through him at that touch.

She raised the razor to his face, and began to shave him, making sure that she never broke eye contact. After a good ten minutes, she finally finished. Turning around one more time, she splashed some aftershave on her hands and rubbed it into his face. However, when she finished, instead of letting go, she pulled him down and crashed his lips onto hers. He didn’t stiffen in surprise, but instead leaned in and took up residence in her embrace, thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

Oh, dear God, Hermione thought. He’s kissing me. That’s his tongue down my throat. Perhaps I should reciprocate.

So she did, which got a groan from Harry. By now, he was so aroused that his towel was beginning to fall off. Moving one of her hands behind his head, she took the other hand and divested him of his towel.

“Earth to Hermione,” Ron shouted.

“What’s going on? Where is Dumbledore?” Hermione asked, clearly just coming out of a trance.

“The meeting’s over. It’s been over for the past five minutes. I expected Harry to have dozed off, which he did, but how you got lost, I have no idea. Normally, you’re one of the most attentive people I know.”

“Oh. We’d better get going, then.” She felt it best not to mention the fact that it was Harry who sent her off into a daydream, but instead turned to Remus and Sirius, who were still standing there.

“Good seeing the two of you again. I wish it could have been under better circumstances, though.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. The two of us are getting a flat in Hogsmeade, so we’ll be a bit closer. Feel free to drop by if you ever need to talk. I wouldn’t mind having the three of you over for tea on Saturday.”

“We’ll be there,” Harry said.

And with that, Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the staff room for the Great Hall.

The hallways seemed unusually quiet that night. Even someone completely unfamiliar with the climate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry could have sensed that something was gravely wrong. Dinner had been subdued, as the students had been informed of the recent turn of events. Though the Weasleys, except Percy, were staying there at the castle, Harry’s mind had been unable to leave the unfortunate turn of events since Ron awoke him from his trance in the staff room meeting. The mere thought of the fact that he had been daydreaming about a girl who just happened to be his best friend when the fate of the world was being discussed was slightly embarrassing to admit, even to himself. But he wasn’t the one to blame for the fact that he had an attractive female best friend. About the only thing that Harry understood that came out of the afternoon’s meeting was that he was going to have tea with Remus and Sirius on Saturday.

Author’s notes: Short chapter, I know. Next time: Tea with the Puppies, and a few more hormone-fueled thought sequences, and perhaps a completed fantasy scene. Maybe. I don’t make any promises.

Valued Sony Customer Normal James McCormick 2 0 2003-08-05T21:41:00Z 2003-08-05T21:41:00Z 1 3509 20002 Laptop 166 46 23465 10.2625 Clean Clean 6 pt 2 2 MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

Bound Together

Chapter 3—Tea With Remus And His Dog

Author’s notes: Well, it’s the third chapter. And I’m still coming up with ideas. I don’t know how I’m doing it. It’s certainly not the plot bunnies. I’m putting a slash warning on this chapter, for reasons that shall become more evident as the chapter goes on. Also, there will be further mention of the ever-so-squicky five-some. And, as always, special thanks to Sugarjet Erin, Bingblot and Landlady of the Universe. *glomps you guys* And of course, I’m also going to give a shout-out to the Order of the Pumpkin (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/orderofthepumpkin) and the HMS Pumpkin Pie.

Thanks to those of you who reviewed the last chapter…all TWO of you (at Schnoogle…Portkey people shouldn’t feel so bad about themselves, as y’all are pretty good at leaving reviews). *glares at readers at Schnoogle* READ AND REVIEW!

Also, this fic is officially AU, as I’m not going to go along completely with OotP. At least I have some characters to work with now, but I’m keeping the dog. However, there will be some spoilerage for OotP. He’s too important to the story, even if JKR, ebil woman she is, killed him off, though I still love her anyway.

As the week wore on, Harry tried to keep his mind on the upcoming tea with Remus and Sirius, but his thoughts kept straying to Hermione. When she was around, it was all he could do to keep from grabbing her and inspecting her tonsils there on the spot. This made concentrating in class very difficult, since Hermione set next to him in every one save Divination.

“Harry! Harry! We need to get to work on our paper for Charms,” Hermione exclaimed, seeing that Harry was just staring at her absentmindedly. “The N.E.W.T.’s are only five months away! This is no time for glazing over!”

“I haven’t glazed over,” Harry said defensively. Instead, he was fantasizing about doing obscene things to her right there on their work table. “I was just thinking.”

“Good, then do you have any idea what you’re going to write about?”

“No, I really don’t. Do you have any suggestions?”

Well, you could just throw me down and shag me, Hermione thought. She didn’t think that would be the answer that Harry was looking for though, no matter how good the idea sounded to her. However, unable to turn her mind to other thoughts, she said, “Well, you could do something on the efforts to produce a prophylactic charm that isn’t affected by other spells or potions. I mean, there is one; we learned about it last year in that really embarrassing seminar from McGonagall and Snape, but they did say that it didn’t always work when either partner was taking a good number of potions.”

“Sounds like a good idea, Hermione. I might actually do that.”

At that moment, a knock came at the window of Gryffindor Tower. There was a medium sized barn owl flapping by the window. Harry was loath to go and open it, considering the fact his robes were a bit too tight; the effects of being around Hermione were making him a bit uncomfortable. After a few seconds of shuffling papers and books off of her lap, Hermione went over and opened the window. The owl then swooped across the room and dropped a letter in front of Harry.

“Who’s it from, Harry?” Hermione asked, noting the look of surprise on Harry’s face.

“Professor Lupin. He’s given me directions to his house for tomorrow. He says that he has a few things to tell us. He told us to meet him at 2:00.”

“That’s perfect. The twins want to talk to the three of us. I just hope that they don’t go into detail about their polyamourous relationship. Last time, I was about to puke, given how Angelina was talking,” Hermione mused. Harry shared similar thoughts. The twins had outdone themselves when it came to the situation in their private lives. He knew about being a bit randy, after all, he had gone through puberty, but the twins and their girlfriends took the concept to new extremes not heard of since polygamy became socially unacceptable. Besides, he didn’t exactly understand how things worked when it was just one guy and one girl, let alone with more than that.

“Yeah, they are a bit too frank, aren’t they? I know that I wouldn’t want to share those kinds of details. But then, they have been known for flamboyancy in the past, so what would anyone expect from people who are sleeping with Fred and George?” Harry replied.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Ron came in. He was obviously quite torn, but between what Harry and Hermione had no clue.

“I’ve just been talking to dad. He wants to take the family out into Hogsmeade tomorrow and spend the day there with us,” Ron said. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make it to tea with Remus and Sirius.”

“Spend time with your family, Ron. You’re lucky to have them,” Harry said dully. “After all, it’s what I’d do.”

“I suppose you’re right, Harry. You can make my excuses to Moony and Padfoot. I’m sure they’ll understand,” Ron said, slightly relieved. “I just want to know everything about it. Don’t leave out any details.”

“You’ll hear everything, Ron,” Hermione said. “It’s not like we’d leave you out of the loop.”

And with that, Ron turned and headed for bed.

The next morning, Harry woke with a start. Hermione, who was already dressed, was standing over him, shaking him.

“Get up, get up!” Hermione yelled, almost like a little child trying to rouse her parents on Christmas morning. “We’ve only got fifteen minutes before the carriages leave!”

“Wha—Dear God, Hermione! Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” Harry asked, all manner of sleep shocked right out of him at the sound of Hermione’s yelling.

“I would have, but I know that you don’t like being woken that early. And besides, watching the great Harry Potter asleep is quite enthralling.”

“Perhaps you ought to get a Pensieve and put it the memory in there if it was so great. It’ll last longer,” Harry quipped.

“I think I’ll do just that. Thanks for the idea, Harry! Now, I’m going to leave so that you can get dressed. I know you don’t want me seeing you unclad.” Hermione said.

“I’ll see you in a bit, Hermione,” Harry said, as she turned and left the room. Why did she always get the good sights? He knew he’d love to see her sleeping, and he wouldn’t mind her seeing him naked, provided that she returned the favor. With that thought, it suddenly got much harder for him to get dressed.

When the time came to board the thestral-driven carriages to Hogsmeade, Harry and Hermione waved goodbye to Ron, and took a carriage to themselves. After a silence that wasn’t tense, but was quite thick with pheromones, Hermione decided to speak.

“I wish there was another way to see the thestrals without having watched someone die. I would quite like to know what they look like, but I know I don’t want to have to go through something so gruesome to see them, though.”

“Well, I’m not so sure that you’d like them at first, but they really are amazing,” Harry replied, as if he was making a side-comment to her in a lecture in Hagrid’s class. “They’re a bit strange, but they are quite handsome. If you must know what they look like, they are a bit reptilian, and their heads aren’t shaped like normal winged horses.”

“So, do you have any idea about what Sirius and Remus want?” Hermione asked.

“If I knew, you’d know. Honestly, I’d like to know myself. However, when it comes to those two, it’s not so great to blindly ask questions for fear of the answers,” Harry stated sagely.

“You make a good point, Harry. Those two were the ones who wrote the plans for many of the twin’s pranks. While the vast majority of pranks the twins pull have come from their own imaginations, I recognized a few of them the book they gave you.”

They bantered on like the old friends they were, with only the faintest trace of the hormonal impulses that had overtaken them of late. In fact, Harry was quite proud of the fact that their banter hadn’t caused any unwanted reactions. And for her part, Hermione was perfectly fine, and the knot that always turned up in her stomach when Harry was around didn’t flutter nearly as bad as normal. Overall, it was a pleasant trip, which came to an end all too soon in front of the Three Broomsticks.

“Want to get a butterbeer before we get along to our business, Hermione?” Harry asked, desperate to continue the conversation.

“Sure, Harry,” Hermione said, and she unconsciously took his hand and the two of them walked into the pub. The physical contact, however slight, though, was enough to completely throw Harry’s brain out of control once again.

“Oh, my, I’m holding her hand. Get a grip on yourself. She’s just Hermione. Your best friend, with whom you’ve always been physically close. But I certainly wouldn’t mind if she was closer. Come off it, Harry, you aren’t supposed to think those thoughts about your best friend,” Harry thought to himself. However, for some reason, this banter in his brain was being ignored by his more southward parts, which had already made their collective mind up, much to Harry’s embarrassment.

Hermione was fighting a similar battle. On the one hand, Harry was her best friend, and she didn’t want to lose that. On the other, she also wanted to jump his bones right then and there. After all, he was good looking, a decent and intelligent person—when he wanted to be—and oh, God what a butt.

Neither said anything, though, as they walked in, sat down at a table, and ordered up a couple of butterbeers.

After seeing that Angelina was the one behind the counter, Harry and Hermione ran for it, knowing that they didn’t want to hear the conversation that she’d provide. Neither wanted full details of that she, the twins, Alicia, and Katie had been doing to each other the night before. So, instead, having an hour before they had to meet Remus and Sirius, the two of them decided to take a silent stroll through the village.

Remus Lupin’s house wasn’t much, but it was pleasantly comfortable. It was one floor with five rooms on it, not counting the bathroom and kitchen, but it was comfortably furnished. As Harry entered the house, as the door had let him and Hermione in as though it had been told that he was expecting them, Harry felt like he was at a slightly less dilapidated version of the Burrow.

“Hey, Harry, Hermione,” came a voice that was definitely too low to be Lupin’s. Harry and Hermione turned around and saw Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black.

“Oh, hello Sirius,” Hermione said. “I didn’t know that Professor Lupin had other guests.”

Another voice, this time higher, said, “Don’t call me ‘professor’. I don’t teach anymore. And besides, Sirius isn’t exactly a guest. He lives here too.”

“Ah, yes, that’s right. You’re still in need of a place to hide,” Harry said as Lupin walked to join Sirius.

“Here, you two have a seat. I’ll go get the tea,” Sirius said.

“Where’s Ron?” Lupin asked.

“His family is staying at Hogwarts for the time being. Dumbledore figures it’s safer for them there than at the Burrow. After all, Fudge knows exactly where it is, considering that Percy is in his inner circle, and that Percy refuses to believe that Fudge is doing anything illegal. So the eight of them decided to go and spend the day in town together,” Hermione explained.

“I’m wondering where Molly and Arthur went wrong with Percy. I mean, they’ve done a decent job with the rest of the kids, even Fred and George. Do they think that he’s being controlled?” Lupin asked.

“According to Ron, if anyone is controlling him, they’ve been doing it his entire life. They haven’t noticed any change in Percy, other than his sudden turn from the family,” Harry volunteered.

Sirius then came into the room carrying a tea tray. As he set it down on the table, he said, “Yes, we do have something to tell you. We just hope you understand.” After pouring the tea, he sat down beside Lupin.

“Yes, I’d certainly hope so,” Lupin said. “Remember when I said that Sirius was living here? Well, it’s not just because he’s on the run and needs a place to stay. You see, the two of us, are, well…”

“We’re seeing each other,” Sirius finished for Lupin. Harry and Hermione sat there in stunned silence, their jaws on the floor.

“Do you mean to say that the two of you are, well, gay?” Harry finally asked, after he had gathered himself together from the shock.

“Yes, we are,” Remus said. “Just please realize…”

But he never got a chance to finish. Harry and Hermione started in at once, but it all came out in an excited garble.

“One at a time, please,” Sirius said. “Hermione, you go first.”

“Well, I must say that I’m a bit shocked, to say the least. However, I think that I speak for both of us when I say that I’m not bothered at all by your sexual preferences. After all, you two have been more help to us than a lot of other people. So, why should it matter to our perception of you that you are gay?” Hermione said.

“What she said. She took the words right out of my mouth. At least the two of you have found somebody. Who’d have thought that it would be each other?” Harry added.

“There’s a bit more than that too. We’re going to be undergoing a formal union. It’s actually a spell that will bind our souls and powers together. While we are having it modified slightly for the fact that Remus is a werewolf and that the two of us are gay, we are expecting it to work,” Sirius said.

“The thing about this is that the magic that we are using is actually the oldest form of marriage known to mankind. In fact, it’s where we got the idea. However, it is rarely employed these days, as it demands monogamy, and the spell cannot be reversed. If the terms of the spell are broken, it would mean death for the one who broke the spell. It does have its advantages, though. As our souls are combined, any fatal spell would have to be cast upon both of us simultaneously for us to die. That includes the Killing Curse. Also, it amplifies both of our magical abilities. There’s even a possibility that it could be a cure for my condition, but we’re not exactly sure.” Lupin said.

“How exactly does this work?” Hermione asked. “Exactly how dangerous is casting the charm?”

“The charm isn’t difficult or dangerous to cast, Hermione,” Sirius explained. “It’s just that there is no way to end the spell other than natural death. What will happen is that we will both take a potion, which is also simple enough. In fact, they used to teach eight-year-old girls to brew it back in the Middle Ages. Then, we cast a spell on each other, which begins the process. The bond, though, is not complete until it has been consummated. That introduces another aspect of the spell that makes it unpopular these days. When you do this, you cannot be under any kind of birth control or use any kind of protection. It seems to interfere with the spell. Not that that’s a problem for us.”

“One more thing about the spell, though,” Remus added. “Though any couple can get it to function, its full effects can only be achieved if both people are virgins.”

“I can see why a good number of people don’t use it, then,” Harry said. “I do believe that Hermione and I are the only seventh years at Hogwarts who haven’t done it. But then, it may just be because the two of us are chasing the rest out of each other’s beds.”

“Actually, I don’t think Millicent Bulstrode has, but how could anyone actually have sex with her?” Hermione quipped.

“That wasn’t nice, Hermione,” Sirius replied.

“No, as in physically, how? I’d like to see a guy who could mount her.” This elicited a bit of laughter from everyone.

“But what about Ron?” Lupin asked.

“Oh, he lost it to a Ravenclaw girl that lived nearby over the summer. Wouldn’t shut up about it once we got on the train. I think you met Luna, didn’t you?” Harry said, the laughter fading from his voice.

“No, I don’t think we did,” Sirius said. “Isn’t she the daughter of the guy who runs the Quibbler?”

“Yes, the two of them are probably the only people who believe everything they print. She’s a bit weird, yes, but she and Ron are a great couple,” Hermione said.

“I bet Molly and Arthur are absolutely thrilled about that,” Sirius said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Actually, they don’t mind. Especially since it has kept Ron out of their hair,” Harry said.

Suddenly, Lupin and Sirius gave a significant look to each other. Lupin jerked his head twice towards the kitchen, and Sirius nodded.

“Hermione, could I speak to you in the kitchen,” Remus asked.

“Sure, Prof—Remus.” And with that, Hermione and Remus disappeared into the kitchen. Harry felt a pit develop in his stomach, not out of nerves for what other bombshell Sirius may be preparing, but because he really wished that Hermione could just be with him.

“So, when did you fall in love with your best friend, Harry?” This inquiry caught Harry a bit off guard, because he hadn’t told anyone about his feelings for Hermione.

“Me and Ron?” he asked, stalling for time. “You do realize that I’m straight?”

“No, Hermione, you prat. Oh, and before you ask, it was written all over your face through the whole conversation we just had, and at the meeting of the Order the other day, you weren’t paying attention to what was going on, but instead you were staring at Hermione. When did you fall for her?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Harry said. “It just happened. One minute, she was my best friend, and the next, I just wanted her to be more than that.”

“You know, I may be gay, but I do know when a woman has fallen in love. And Hermione is showing all the classic symptoms as well,” Sirius said.

“Are you telling me that Hermione’s fallen in love with me?”

“Yes, Harry, I am. And I’m also telling you that hormonal longing does nothing for mental health, and we need everybody to remain sane. You should probably tell her, and soon. Just don’t be stupid about it.” And with one meaningful glance, Sirius changed the subject to Quidditch.

“Hermione,” Remus started, “You and Harry…is there anything going on between the two of you?”

“No! Absolutely not! Harry? I don’t think so!”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much, Hermione.” With one glare, Hermione began to spill her real feelings.

“Yes. I know he’s my best friend, but I’m beginning to find myself wanting more than just friendship with Harry. I see why other women want him…because I want him. Pr—Remus, I think I’m in love with Harry,” Hermione admitted.

“So do I, Hermione. And speaking as someone who’s done the same thing, I think it would be foolish for the two of you to ignore it. I know for a fact that trying to ignore my feelings for Sirius did nothing to help preserve the friendship. In fact, my efforts to maintain what we had did more damage than actually admitting my feelings to him ever would have done.”

“Yes, Remus, but what do I do?” Hermione pleaded.

“Well, there’s always the option of snogging him senseless. That’s what Sirius did to me once I came out. He told me that he had been harboring feelings for me for some time, and that he was the same way. Believe me, things are much better between us now than they ever were when we were trying to ‘preserve our friendship’.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Remus. I think I’ll talk to him about this next chance we get. If what you say is right, then there’s no reason for me to have to run when I see him,” Hermione admitted.

“Well, I don’t know about the arousal bit, but I certainly can say you won’t be able to take care of those urges somehow,” Remus said.

After rejoining each other in the living room, Harry, Hermione, Sirius, and Remus sat down once more, and Sirius began to speak,.

“Now, I must tell you both to be responsible. Something tells me that we’ve got a rough time ahead, and you two are going to need all the protection that you can muster. Especially you, Harry. If Voldemort can’t kill you, he’s doomed.”

“Thanks for coming by and understanding about us,” Remus said. “You two had better get to the carriages, because it’s a long walk back to the castle.”

Percy Weasley was sitting at his desk at the Ministry of Magic when there was a knock at his office door. “Come in,” he called to the visitor.

Cornelius Fudge then appeared in the room. He had apparated inside instead of opening the door. He was dressed in black, but he kept the bowler hat.

“Good day, minister. What can I do for you this evening?” Percy asked as he leapt to his feet.

“Mr. Weasley, where is your father?”

“I have no clue, sir. Why? Did he not report to work today?” Percy asked, with the tone of someone who was getting excited about the prospect of firing someone.

“No, he didn’t. When we called The Burrow, we found that nobody was there. Everything looked as though the family had moved out.”

“Well, if they were moving, they certainly wouldn’t have told me. They still believe Dumbledore and Potter about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I honestly don’t know why they believe a couple of nutcases instead of sane, rational people, but I could never explain why my father did anything,” Percy told Fudge.

“Your father is one of about 20 Ministry officials that have gone missing in the same manner. We’re fairly certain that Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphamodora Tonks are hiding with Mad-Eye Moody, as he has always had an unusual amount of sway over them. I don’t know how Miss Tonks came to know him, as she joined the Aurors’ Guild after Moody retired. The twenty of them are from each department, save the Department of Mysteries, who wouldn’t be traceable in any case, as the Department of Mysteries keeps its payroll secret, even from me,” Fudge said. “They are all known supporters of Albus Dumbledore, and I believe that the old man is beginning to make a move to unseat me as Minister of Magic.”

“So, what do you want me to do, sir?” Percy asked.

“I want you to organize a raid on Hogwarts. You shall be the officer in charge, but take as many Aurors as needed, and inform me when you are ready.” Fudge said.

“Yes sir! I’ll get right on it.”

And with a pop, Fudge disapparated from Percy’s office.

With a loud pop, a man suddenly appeared in a room where two other men were waiting: Wormtail and Lord Voldemort.

“So, my servant, how are our plans proceeding?”

“Very well, My Lord. I’ve got one of my most loyal assistants organizing the assault. There should be a large number of Aurors there. If we’re lucky, they’ll apprehend and kill Dumbledore and most of his faculty, as well as whatever allies that he may be hiding there, and then we can storm in and take over ourselves.”

“Very good, Cornelius. I am quite pleased with you.”

“What else do you want me to do?”

“The next thing may not go over well, but I need you to start pinning any problem on the Mudbloods. You’re the Minister of Magic, you can lean on the Prophet. Invent problems if needed. I know that we have to take care of the boy, but it has taken two years for you to discredit him and that fool Dumbledore. We need a quicker turnaround than that. We need popular support before we can truly begin the second part of my plan, and as the boy will soon be no more, I do not want to wait to take over.”

“Very well My Lord,” Fudge replied. “Consider it done.”

And with another pop, Fudge left Voldemort and Wormtail alone again.