He was a vampire. She was a werewolf. Who saw that coming?

Oatmeal

Rating: NC17
Genres: Humor, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 12/11/2005
Last Updated: 02/12/2005
Status: in_progress

Smut, comedy, action, parodies and insanity all around! Everything a great or horrible fanfic should be and more...or less!

Chapters

1. First a little Background

2. Geez that was a short chapter!

3. The story title totally spoiled this chapter; right? RIGHT?

4. Do Gratuitous sex scenes make you laugh or chuckle? YOU CAN

5. Contrived? Well I never been so insulted! HMPH!

6. And now...an intermission

7. Hindshadowing totally works! AKA

1. First a little Background

Chapter 1: First A little Background

Harry Potter was once again contemplating what he was going to do with the rest of his life. It has been seven years since the defeat of Voldemort, a memory he wishes to forget. The pain, the suffering, the casualties of a war that ended with him and him alone with one of the most evil Dark Wizards to have ever lived. He was twenty-four years old and had his entire life ahead of him. His pale skin seemed to glow in the shadows of the shop. His eyes glossing over the inventory as he just merely tapped his wand on the counter of the store.

“Oi…oi! Harry!” said a George Weasley, “Turn into a bat! Come on, just this once.”

“I told you George,” sighed Harry as he lazily levitated a box onto a shelf, “it doesn’t work that way. It’s usually animagi that do that sort of thing.”

“How about mist?” said George, “you can turn into mist right? Pass right through door cracks?”

“No George,” said Harry, “I can’t turn into mist. No person on earth can turn into mist.”

George looked a tad miffed at the statement. Fred however seemed determined for something to happen.

“Turn invisible!” he suggested with eager eyes, “just for us. Come on!”

“Oh lay off it,” said Harry, “it’s really not that impressive you know.”

“Come on Harry,” said George, “it’s the least you can do. After all, we did give you this job you know.”

“Oh that’s rich. I gave you the money to start up this business,” replied Harry.

“But we gave you this job. Harry. Please for your friends?” said Fred batting his eyelashes making them very round.

“Oh alright!” said Harry, “anything to get you to leave me alone.”

Harry stood up from the stool as the Weasley Twins waited in anticipation. Harry cleared his throat once, closed his eyes and concentrated. He thought of every fibre of his body disappearing. He imagined melting into the floor, the counter taking on the very colour of the wood. When he opened his eyes, he saw Fred and George with strange looks on their faces.

“Is that it?” questioned Fred.

“That’s just….pathetic,” said George.

Harry had become invisible. Except for his glasses which floated between his robes and his messy black hair. His eyebrows frowned as his sleeve hovered near where his cheek was supposed to be.

“I told you it wasn’t impressive,” he said and with a small blow of breath, his head appeared again.

“An invisibility cloak it ain’t,” said Fred, “But still cool nevertheless.”

“Actually. There are some vampires that can become entirely invisible,” started Harry, “but they are really, REALLY dedicated. They shave everything…everyday. They are usually used for stealth assignments where usually they don’t wear anything.”

“Nudist vampires. They sound like a pleasant lot,” said George.

Harry didn’t laugh. He looked extremely bored as if he had done everything. However the problem was that he hadn’t done everything. Ever since becoming a vampire he couldn’t do anything normally anymore. His problem, as Fred and George called it, caused him to be blacklisted from many jobs that he would easily get had he not been a vampire. Vampires were still one of the most misunderstood people, even in the wizarding world, and continuing stereotypes didn’t exactly fall into Harry’s favour. His most favorite excuse for not being hired was that he was cited as a liability.

“Oh Harry, we finally put up those sun blocking curtains so you won’t burn all up in the morning. Now you don’t have to sleep in that stuffy coffin anymore,” mentioned George as he checked off inventory.

Harry nodded in thanks wondering if George had noticed that he was sitting right by the window where the sun was falling directly on him. He considered telling them that sun doesn’t kill vampires…again. And that his so called “coffin” was just his trunk…again. He did appreciate it though. Even though the sun doesn’t kill vampires, it does leave them extremely vulnerable. Bruises can appear on them on the slightest touch, and limbs ripped off with enough force. So in a way the sun can kill vampires, if they are caught in a dangerous situation.

In another way the sun had killed Harry. It killed any hopes for leading a normal life. He can’t play quidditch, even apply for a job at the ministry because of the light. He can’t even teach at Hogwarts because he’d just be too weak in the daytime to even stand on his two feet. He didn’t even want to work in any of the shops in Knockturn Alley which eagerly accept vampire employees. He could barely keep up with helping out at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He didn’t exactly need the pay considering the small fortune his parents and Sirius left him but the change of pace gave him strength. It made him feel happy if only a little.

“Excuse me sir, what does this do?” asked a small child as he brought up a small flesh coloured string.

“Oh that…that’s an extendable ear. You just put one end into your ear and the other end picks up noise or conversations you want to hear on the other side. Use it to listen in on your parents or you sister snogging her boyfriend,” explained Harry in a very blasé way.

“Oh,” said the child looking a tad confused, “Then…I’ll buy one sir.”

“That’d be five sickles,” said Harry.

The small child gave him five small silver coins and walked out of the store, the extendable ear in his own ear and his hand pointing the other end randomly around the air.

“Hey Harry,” said Fred as he came over, “Listen…we appreciate the help and all.”

“You’re going to fire me aren’t you?” said Harry completely not surprised.

“No,” said Fred quickly, his face full of concern, “We appreciate you helping us out for the summer…but really can you act a bit more chipper in front of the customers?”

“Yeah Harry,” said George, “Just…smile a bit more. You’ve been such a gloomy git since you became a vampire.”

“Well I can’t help it,” said Harry defensively, showing the first signs of life in what seemed a long time, “it’s that blasted castle I’ve been living in for the past six years! Everyone’s so pale and gaunt in there, I’m surprised they all haven’t fell down on the floor with boredom. Not to mention all these ‘elder vampires’, the supposed ones that ‘lived for centuries’ and ‘seen all that humanity has to offer’. Yet all they do is drone on and on about their own miserable lives through ages of conflict and darkness. It’s really no wonder considering they probably haven’t seen daylight since they were bitten. They never have any fun, all they do is drink wine and talk about being a vampire and what they can do. Now imagine that every night for six years.”

“That sounds terrible Harry,” said Fred looking a tad sympathetic, “I can’t imagine what we’d do if we were stuck in a place like that.”

“You’d probably pull some pranks and they’d all die from the shock of something so funny,” laughed Harry.

They all laughed a bit, Harry having a great big smile. He imagined some vampire’s cheek cracking from a laugh that would shatter their stiff face caused by centuries of glowering and solemn looks.

“Why don’t you just leave Harry?” asked George.

Harry sighed as if remembering a painful bitter memory, “I can’t. The one vampire who bitten me can control me at times. In the end he can always bring me back if he ever needs my services. Besides the castle is really the only place I can go to be accepted. It’s not great, but it’s home.”

“Well how do you get released from his control Harry?” asked George.

“When he dies,” said Harry very matter of factly.

Fred and George laughed but stopped soon after they saw Harry was dead serious. Harry had thought about trying to escape, plenty of times. However it didn’t help that his vampire master was right hand man to the head of the entire vampire population. Taking him out personally would result in making some very unsavory enemies. Harry looked outside at the sunlight as children played, wizards and witches went about shopping and shopkeepers chatted with customers.

“Well Harry you can stay here as long as you want,” said George.

“Like our dad used to say, ‘A man’s nothing without pride in his work’”. And if we can help you in anyway don’t hesitate to ask,” said Fred.

Harry smiled a small warm smile. Children had come into the shop with their parents who looked very apprehensive in promising to buy them something from here. Harry politely greeted them and forced a mechanical smile as the parents nodded nervously reading some of the product details. The children seem especially interested in the Skiving Snack Boxes. Fred and George were about to go into the back when Harry stopped them.

“Say, there is one favour I need to ask you to do,” said Harry.

“Sure thing Harry, just name it,” said Fred.

Harry handed them a small bag of clinking coins, “I need some new dress robes. Would you please go out and buy some new ones for me? I need them for the reunion this weekend.”

Fred smiled, “Don’t worry Harry. You’ll look right spiffy for that reunion.”

The Twins disappeared into the back telling some children to stop mucking around. Harry told Verity that he was going on his break. He walked outside into the sunlight which shone harshly on his eyes. He put up the hood of his cloak, already feeling fairly tired. He walked down the street and stopped in front of the only store he would bear going outside for. It was Quality Quidditch Supplies showing the latest models of brooms in their store windows. A small group of young wizards gathered around staring at it with hungry eyes, frowning whenever they saw the price tag. He could feel his two teeth growing longer…sharper as he eyed the broom in the window. Controlling his urges he quickly turned around putting his hand up as if he was coughing.

Harry smiled as he walked back to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He imagined flying on a new broom, his hair flowing in the wind, far away from the vampire castle; away from the gloom and the darkness and off to find new adventures.

2. Geez that was a short chapter!

Chapter 2: Geez that was a Short Chapter!

“Harry!”

Harry had woke up, his stomach lurched at the sight of ground quickly approaching him. He pulled up on his old Firebolt zooming back into the air and right back at a tall man’s side also on a broom. His red freckles stood out on his face on the clear day, but not as much as his flaming red hair.

“Really Harry, I don’t know why you had to fly in daylight like this,” said Ron Weasley, “I mean with your condition, I’m surprised you haven’t passed out and fell off your broom by now.”

“I just want to get in some flying,” said Harry weakly, trying to keep his eyes open, “before we don’t have any time at the reunion. Besides the fresh air is doing me good.”

“I don’t know why we couldn’t just disapparate. It’d be much easier.”

“Ron. Wasn’t it you who always suggested we take a little road trip by broomstick one day? Well, we’re doing it now.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect that I’d have to babysit you so you don’t crash into a tree or something,” laughed Ron.

The sun was already setting and Harry began to feel more and more like himself. The cool evening air refreshed him as if he just woke up from a good night’s rest. He zoomed off on his old Firebolt while Ron called out to him wait up.

It was already dark by the time they reached the castle. Some wizards and witches were already walking through the front doors of Hogwarts, attending the banquet party inside the Great Hall. Small tents were being packed up which no doubt had some reunion related activity earlier in the morning. Harry and Ron dismounted their brooms, and went inside. The Great Hall wasn’t as full as they remembered it when they attended school, but nevertheless there was a significant amount of people. Some of their old classmates brought dates, husbands or wives, friends. Even a few of them had brought their entire families. Everyone was chatting with each other, reminiscing about old times, introducing each other to new people and telling about what they did with their lives.

“Hey Harry!” shouted Seamus, “How’ve you been? We never see you in the papers anymore.”

“I’ve been busy,” said Harry acting a tad embarrassed. Not everyone knew he was a vampire.

“Well you should come and visit me sometime. Got me own kid now. Named him after you,” he said with a proud smile.

Harry felt a bit happy by the news. Seamus showed him a collection of photographs of Harry Finnigan, most of them crying due to the camera explained Seamus. Harry could only imagine how much his ears would hurt if the pictures had sound. Dean Thomas eventually caught Seamus’ attention as they walked off chatting about all sorts of things. However Harry just sat at the snack table. All these people in the Great Hall, people he so wanted to talk to, but had nothing to say. He can’t exactly blurb out that Yeah about a year after graduation I got bit by a vampire. So now I just sit around and mope all day about my existence. Even if he could tell them that much, he couldn’t explain anymore about his life considering that some of the missions he was sent to perform for the vampire community was very secretive. Current events were positively boring and he’d rather not subject anyone to such a torture. He noticed a bottle of wine which he resisted every temptation to start drinking.

Ron came about once in a while to keep him company. They’d make jokes and Harry would learn about what his classmates were up to nowadays. But even Ron had his limits as someone else caught his eye and he’d jump up to greet them. Harry thought about doing the same thing when he thought he would have so much to talk about working at the Weasley’s joke shop. However he decided against it feeling shameful that since graduation he achieved nothing more than just being a shop assistant. He soon felt guilty for even thinking that way about his job, Fred and George were respectable people after all. Instead he looked around the room at smiling faces engaged in wonderful conversations.

Something then caught the corner of his eye. A big brown bushy head of hair something.

“Could it be?” he thought to himself.

She was down the table a few meters chatting to Lavender Brown and the Patil Twins. She leaned over to grab something from the table. Just as he was about to confirm his suspicions, someone else leaned over in front of him reaching for cauldron cakes, obscuring his view.

“Damn!” thought Harry. He moved his head trying to get a better view but it was too late. The back of her head was facing him again, thoroughly engaged in talk.

Harry moved a bit closer accidentally knocking butterbeer down Seamus’ robes.

“Watch it there Harry!” said Seamus.

Harry apologized profusely but managed to see the girl turn around…with a napkin over her mouth. He saw her eyes though. Brown keen eyes that was eager to prove something. There was no denying who it was, but for some reason he had to make sure.

“Hey Harry,” hissed Ron.

“What?” said Harry not paying attention to him.

“Your teeth…they’re getting a bit long,” warned Ron under his breath.

Harry snapped out of his trance touching his teeth with his fingers. Two of his teeth had grown half an inch longer and gotten extremely sharp. Harry rubbed them as if it’ll calm them down.

“You’re not in a bitey mood are you? I mean we’re all safe right?” asked Ron with a bit of concern.

“No, I’m fine,” said Harry, “This just happens when I get a bit eager about something. Happens all the time when I look at new brooms.”

“Oh…good,” said Ron looking a bit relieved.

“Say, do you know if Hermione came to the reunion?”

“I wouldn’t know why she wouldn’t,” said Ron, “I mean I told one of the Patil Twins I was coming and she’s still friends with them. It’s not like when we broke up it was especially terrible.”

“What happened between you two?” asked Harry.

“Well what happened was…”

At that time a small shouting match between Neville and Dean happened right beside Harry’s ear. They were arguing something about Herbology and Quidditch at the same time, although how such two subjects can possibly be discussed is beyond Harry. Ron took no notice of it as he motioned with his hands, rolled his eyes and seemed to drone on about something. Harry couldn’t hear a single word and was about to stop Ron until a teacher came about to calm them down.

“…and that’s what happened. I don’t really like talking about it, but since you are my best mate I’ll tell you this one time,” finished Ron.

Harry looked a bit surprise, he didn’t know what to say because he didn’t hear what Ron actually said. He nodded, patted him on the back a bit too forcefully and thanked him, all the while laughing a tad nervously.

“Why do you ask Harry?” as Ron poured himself some punch, he eyed Harry’s fangs which were receding slowly, “You don’t have a thing for her do you?”

“No!” defended Harry, “No…not at all. I mean she’s like my best friend just like you Ron. And besides. I can’t do that to you.”

Ron looked uninterested in the moment, “Well it doesn’t matter really. We are through after all. I mean really Harry…after what we’ve been through.”

“Yeah I know what you mean,” said Harry who busied himself by getting a chocolate frog.

With that Ron walked off into the crowd looking for another conversation. Harry looked at the wizard card from his chocolate frog. He often wondered if he’d ever make it into the wizard card collection.

“Hi Harry!”

Someone had wrapped her arms around his neck. He felt a brown head of hair envelope half his face, and for some odd reason he took a deep breath, taking in her smell. After a short moment she released him and held his hands.

“Hi!.…..uh…Hermione!” stuttered Harry.

She was wearing a chocolate brown dress her hair melting into her dress. He looked into her eyes which shined brilliantly and were as keen as ever. Her smile lit up the room, or so it seemed to Harry as she stood there grinning away.

“It’s been so long! We have so much to talk about,” said Hermione as she dragged him away from the snack table. Harry looked a bit nervous as Hermione took him through the crowd, he felt he made a nice little nest at his spot at the snack table. He wondered if someone else would stake claim to his seat.

Harry relaxed a lot when they started talking. They talked for a good hour, about everything. It mostly came back to their years in Hogwarts but Harry did actually discuss his life one year before he got bitten. He tried as much to steer the conversation about Hermione’s life who talked about he job at the ministry and how exciting it was. When asked what he did recently he didn’t feel embarrassed at all saying he worked with Fred and George in their shop. She laughed a bit as if she wondered why she didn’t appreciate their jokes before.

“So what happened to you and Ginny?” asked Hermione casually, “I don’t see her around.”

“<___insert a very very plausible reason why Harry and Ginny separated___>,” said Harry.

“Oh,” said Hermione quietly, her eyes looking a bit sad, “That sounds very strange, yet very plausible in an official sort of way. I thought you were ‘the’ couple you know. You two always looked so cute together.”

Harry nodded contemplating something. The moment felt a bit awkward until Hermione started to speak up again.

“Listen Harry. I’m wondering if you would have time for me and you to…”

“HARRY POTTER, I NEED YOU ASSISTANCE,” boomed a voice in his head.

“Pardon me, what?” said Harry, trying to listen to Hermione.

“Well I was wondering that if we could…”

“HARRY POTTER. THIS IS YOUR MASTER CALLING YOU. COME BACK TO THE CASTLE IMMEDIATELY,” boomed the voice.

Harry felt a twitch in his stomach area like someone tied to line to it and was trying to pull him backwards.

“Harry what’s wrong?” asked Hermione as she touched his shoulder.

“Nothing…uh,” said Harry as his got up slowly moving backwards into the crowd. The truth was he tried restrain himself from moving at all.

“I just remembered I had something to do…back at the shop,” said Harry.

“But…but Harry,” said Hermione, her face looking a bit confused.

“That sounds like a great idea Hermione,” said Harry as he was pushing his way through the crowd towards the exit, “I’ll send you an owl sometime!”

He saw Hermione’s face disappear as the crowd passed in front of him. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay, stay with the first person he talked to normally in a long time. Harry walked down from the castle to just outside the gates mumbling all the way. With a small crack his disappeared from where he stood and popped in front of a dark forest. He walked in still grumbling until twenty minutes later he arrived in front of two large doors. He knocked and was admitted in by a very pale looking man. Moments later he entered a great chamber, similar to Hogwarts' Great Hall but colder, darker. Small torches barely lit the stone which was covered with cobwebs. A cold wind blew in from the empty fireplace.

Harry asked a vampire that stood next to him why they all of them were summoned, still fuming about having to leave Hermione so abruptly. The vampire merely shrugged, looking just as clueless as the other vampires.

“Fellow brothers and sisters,” harked a tall slender looking man with long black flowing hair, “we have gathered all of you for some unsettling news.”

Murmurs flowed through the crowd. Renoir was a vampire count, the right hand man to the King of the Vampires. He is one of the king’s top advisors and often has his ear concerning many matters, especially those concerning the safety of vampire-kind.

“We have reason to believe that the werewolves are planning something and they are gathering forces on the border these past few nights,” announced Renoir, “so…as a precaution we have summoned all available forces to defend the borders if needed. That is all.”

“What about the treaty?” shouted a vampire in the group, “we have peace with them for over a decade!”

“I do not claim that I know how a werewolf’s mind works,” said the Renoir with a slight patronizing tone, “but apparently there are still rogues amongst them. If history has taught us anything, treaties are nothing more than flimsy agreements between warring nations to fight at another time. Be on your guard everyone.”

Harry felt incredibly furious that he was summoned for such a lousy announcement. Here was another example of vampires being prats about their survival, thinking everybody is out to get them. He often wondered what vampires had against werewolves, how this great feud between them started. He would amuse himself thinking that perhaps a werewolf urinated on some important vampire’s coffin one night, causing this blood feud between them that last few centuries. He was about to make his way back to his room when someone called out his name.

“Harry!” said Renoir in a cheerful voice, “Just the person I want to speak to.”

Harry rolled his eyes as Renoir came up to him. Harry did a small bow, a common courtesy to your vampire master. Renoir laughed and told Harry to get up saying he never had to do that. But the fact remained it was hardwired into vampires to do that every single time. There was no denying it. He had the sinking feeling that Renoir wanted him to bow as an opportunity to act nice to Harry in front of other vampires.

“So how are you feeling Harry?” he asked looking very eager, “Are you feeling strong at all?”

“As fine as any other vampire,” said Harry, trying to finish the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Well we need more than that Harry. We need you to be the best that you can be,” said Renoir with a very fangy smile.

To tell the truth, Renoir was very interested in Harry. He actually bit him thinking that having such a powerful wizard on their side would bolster the vampire ranks. Every opportunity he had, he would talk to Harry. Encouraging him to be the best vampire ever. He hasn’t felt so pursued by a single person since Lockheart and that was no picnic. However with Renoir it is worst considering that he could actually summon Harry to come and talk to him at anytime. Even though six years is like a week to a vampire who lived for over a century, Harry knew that Renoir’s patience was growing thinner with each uneventful year.

“The truth is Harry, I need you to go along for a secret mission,” whispered Renoir.

“When has any mission hasn’t been secret master?” said Harry.

“Ho ho ho, your words ring true,” chuckled Renoir, his fangs giving him a strangely demonic appearance, “but this one is extra special. I need you to join some of the guards near the border. I think this is the time Harry. The time you show the entire world what you’re made out of.”

Harry was a bit insulted by that comment. After all he defeated Voldemort. However when fame and fortune reared its ugly head, he did at times wish that he wasn’t Famous Harry Potter or The Boy Who Lived. He had wished he could live a normal life. And in some ways still staying in the castle with the vampires has granted his wish. No one gave him special treatment, aside from Renoir; which Harry tried to make it as rare as possible. He wasn’t considered extraordinary and considering he hasn’t did anything that stood out during his tenure as a vampire, no one really paid attention to him.

Renoir gave him specific directions for Harry to go out to the borders in two nights in support of the forces already gathering there. Harry agreed, bowed and headed towards his room. He locked himself inside and sat on his bed, attempting to remember the night before he was rudely interrupted.

“What was Hermione trying to say?” he thought.

However all he could thought of was her hair, her eyes, her face and how warm her hands were on his. Her chocolate dressed danced in his mind, lulling him to sleep. He felt relaxed as he slowly drifted off to sleep. He had a peculiar feeling when with her because not once did he ever think about biting her neck.

3. The story title totally spoiled this chapter; right? RIGHT?

Chapter 3: The story title totally spoiled this chapter; right? RIGHT?

Harry sat by the border dividing the line between vampire and werewolf territories. One thing that Harry considered even worst than elder vampires droning about vampire culture was new vampire fledglings droning on about how cool it was to have their new vampire powers. They’d turn invisible, knock down trees and make their fangs grown longer then back to normal. They’d try to fly but vampires can’t fly, then can only jump very long distances. Harry still preferred a broom but sometimes stealth is more important than convenience. It was a cold night and he’d tell some of the new vampires to shut up and settle down, even though some of them were twice his age. He sighed as he used his wand to pick up scraps on the forest floor and toss them into a hole at the bottom of a tall tree.

When it seemed that the night will bring no surprise the clouds suddenly parted. Howls came around them and suddenly they heard shouts of vampires and barks. The attacks started. Harry rushed off following the vampires closer to the sounds of battle. In a small glen there were dozens of werewolves and vampires locked in battle. Harry tossed spell after spell at the werewolves as the other vampires fought tooth and nail. Suddenly something hit him and he fell backwards. A dead werewolf was on top of him its lifeless eyes staring right through him. He couldn’t move, and his wand was just out of reach. He was stuck there unable to see the battle going mere meters away from him. He could only hear vampire screams and werewolf howls. His heart pounded thinking what would happen. What if they’d loss? They’d find him here and rip him limb from limb. He tried to calm himself but the stench of death and werewolf made him gasp for air.

Moments seemed like hours when finally the carcass heaved and it was off him. Two older vampires helped him up.

“Good job Harry on you first kill, Renoir will be pleased,” said one of the older vampires.

“Yeah…Thanks,” said Harry feeling slightly guilty afterwards.

“Yeah Harry, we managed to capture one from the pack. Pretty wild that one is,” said the other vampire as he pointed down into the glen.

All the werewolves were dead and along with a third of the vampires. It looked like a war zone with ripped up trees and blood everywhere. Slash marks scarred the landscape as much as there was blood. A single werewolf was snapping at its captors, it was slightly wounded on its stomach. Its head thrashing wildly as it tried to get out from the chain that held it. Some vampires started to wrap bonds around it, carefully avoiding its claws and teeth.

“Come on Renoir would like to see if we can interrogate it,” said one of the vampires.

They traveled back to the castle, entering into a small arena on the west end of the castle. The moon still shone brightly down on the area as they stopped. Renoir came out of a side door, looking very pleased. He approached the werewolf his hand brought up as if to pet it. It was growling and trying to bite off his outstretched hand. Renoir smiled and in a flash grabbed its snout firmly holding its mouth close.

“Such wild beasts; werewolves,” he said as if talking to himself, “so unrestrained, so powerful. If you only had some pride in your race like us vampires, perhaps you would rise out of the caves you live.”

Harry rolled his eyes expecting to hear some boring speech about vampirekind.

“Ah,” said Renoir looking up at the sky, “just what I’m waiting for.”

He let go of the mouth and stepped backwards. The arena grew darker, as a cloud passed over the moon. Soon enough the werewolf’s fur began to shed; its snout grew smaller and into its face. Its hind legs were going back into normal human feet. Its shackles fell off her as her stature shrunk. In a mere moment a human stood where the werewolf had just been, a woman with locks big bushy brown hair flowing down her shoulders.

Harry was in total shock. He slowly moved to the front of the crowd, trying to move around to see a better look. His mouth was agape as he rounded the arena looking right into the woman’s face. Hermione Granger was a werewolf.

“What were you doing near our borders?” asked Renoir, “Did you know that you were violating the Treaty of ’94 by trespassing in our lands?”

“That’s a lie,” Hermione said, shivering in the cold, “we were clearly on our side of the border. It was your group who attacked us!”

Renoir sighed, “You rogue werewolves should really change your tune. Had it not been for the more civilized of your kind that signed the treaty, we’d have eradicated you long ago.”

Hermione said nothing. She just glared into Renoir’s eyes.

“Well then, if you won’t tell us why you were here, then perhaps death with loosen your tongue!” he said as he raised his hand ready to strike.

“NO!”

Harry had jumped in front of Renoir hands outstretched. His mind raced as he was trying to think what to do. He was protecting a werewolf which was one of his best friends in an area full of vampires ready to kill her.

“What is it Harry?” asked Renoir, looking very confused.

“I…uh,” stuttered Harry, “I’ll do it!”

Hermione’s eyes widen in shock, Harry looked around thinking that it was all over. They’d never believe him. Who would possibly believe him?

Renoir looked thoroughly surprised but a wide smile spread over his face, “I knew you had it in you Harry! I knew this night was going to be special, the night that you prove yourself!”

Small cheers rose from the ring of vampires. Harry nervously smiled, he took out his wand but Renoir stopped him.

“Harry, please,” Renoir said, “no wand this time. Use your hands like a real vampire.”

Harry gulped as he put away his wand. As he brought up his hand ready to strike, fear in Hermione’s eyes, glee in Renoir’s, Harry closed his eyes wishing for a miracle.

“RENOIR!” shouted a voice.

A vampire had bursted through the door from the castle panting, “Renoir…you’re needed in the castle.”

“What is it now?” yelled Renoir looking displeased.

“Tonight is the Vampire Werewolf Mixer, to improve vampire/werewolf relations,” panted the vampire.

“Was that tonight? Damn! I thought that was next week?”

“Well remember we had that rescheduling?”

“Damn. If they find out we have one of their own here…oh this does not bode well.”

Renoir paced around as nervous murmurs spread into the crowd.

“Ok,” sighed Renoir, “Harry, you take this werewolf out back into the forest a few miles then finish her off. And make sure you do not get caught.”

“Uh…yeah sure,” said Harry, but Renoir was already heading towards the doors.

Harry held Hermione and kicked off into the air about thirty feet. Hermione was still in a state of shock, shivering in the cold. Harry tried his best to wrap her around his cloak. They were about a mile away from the castle when he propped Hermione against a tree. She opened her eyes looking at him. They both had the same look of shock.

“You’re a…” they said at the same time.

“But when…” they said…at the same time.

They paused and let a moment of silence pass. They didn’t know what to say, where to start. Questions flooded into their minds yet they knew they didn’t have much time. Hermione winced as she touched her wound on her stomach. Harry walked over took out his wand and bandaged it, being very careful not to stare at her body.

“So how long?” asked Harry solemnly.

“About three years ago, I was doing some research with Lupin and then I got caught by another werewolf,” said Hermione, “How about you?”

“Six years ago coming this June,” said Harry, “apparently some vampire wanted some celebrity power on their side.”

Hermione laughed a bit but her face grew grim, “You’re not…really going…to kill me are you?”

“No!” said Harry looking a bit insulted, “I mean…no. When I saw it was you, I wanted to take you away…protect you.”

“Oh Harry that’s so sweet,” said Hermione and she got up and hugged him.

“Hermione! No!” said Harry as he pushed her away, his face looking very red. He turned around and tried to focus on the bark of a tree.

“What’s a matter Harry?” she asked, looking a bit sad.

“Well…you’re…you’re naked!” he stuttered, forcing the words out.

Harry pulled off his cloak and handed it to Hermione behind his back, still very interested in the tree bark. Hermione walked over and took the cloak and wrapped it around her.

“Oh Harry, it’s nothing!” she said, “Ever since I’ve been a werewolf, I’ve been naked plenty of…”

“Hermione!” said Harry, “This isn’t something I would like to know about my best friend.”

“Harry,” she said as he could hear her getting closer, “it’s nothing. It’s just skin not anything you haven’t seen before.”
“Well that’s different,” he said as he felt himself being turned around, “You’re my best friend and..and yeah friends don’t see each other naked.”

Harry opened his eyes seeing a certain playful look in Hermione’s eyes. His face grew redder if that was ever possible.

“You’re blushing!” she said coyfully, “is it because Harry Potter fancies me?”

“No! No I don’t mean…it’s just that,” sputtered Harry as he turned even redder.

“Did you like what you saw?” said Hermione suddenly, a wide smile over her face.

“Wha…What?” stuttered Harry looking confused.

“When I was naked…did you like what you saw?” she reminded him.

“NO! Don’t say that word! I mean…I don’t think you’re…uh,” stuttered Harry again.

Truth be told Harry didn’t remember her being naked because he was in too much shock in just finding out she was a werewolf. He would be lying to himself though, if he said he didn’t think about Hermione at all in her dress at the reunion. He calmed himself as much as he can while Hermione looked at him expecting an answer.

“Hermione, we’re friends. Best friends,” said Harry firmly with steely resolve.

“Then kiss me,” said Hermione bluntly.

Harry did not expect that answer. He froze as if he was caught by a hex. He couldn’t move as Hermione moved slowly towards him, her brown intense looking eyes locked on him. He could lose himself in those eyes for days.

“Wha..” said Harry sounding quite dumbfounded, “We…we don’t have time.”

“Just kiss me. And if you don’t feel anything then…we’ll just be friends,” said Hermione quietly sounding a tad serious.

He felt her arms reach around his neck pulling him in slowly. He wanted to stop, vampires might come out of nowhere at any minute to see if he’d done his job right. Renoir could summon him at any time. However he couldn’t stop. He was so close to her, feeling her breath flowing into him. He closed his eyes and fell into her embrace.

Her lips felt wet…very wet. Almost sloppy to tell the truth as her lips seemed to have pursed itself into a small ball. It was like kissing a cold wet prune. Harry’s stomach seemed to jump an inch up and not in a good way. He pulled back feeling a tad disappointed.

“See? I told you Hermione, we’re just not…”

He stopped talking when he opened his eyes. There he was standing in the middle of the forest, nose to snout with a fully transformed werewolf. The moonlight illuminated the strange scene of Harry Potter kissing the nose of a werewolf wearing a wizard’s cloak. The irony wasn’t entirely lost on Harry. He felt himself being tossed into the air and smacking right into a tree. The werewolf Hermione was fast, too fast for Harry to even follow with his eyes. In a second it was on him, one hand up in the air, ready to strike.

“No Hermione!” shouted Harry.

She stopped as if she recognized the voice, or at least the command.

“It’s me Harry. Please, I know you’re in there somewhere. Just fight it! I know you can do it!” pleaded Harry.

She paused, her breath panting steaming up Harry’s glasses. It was like she was debating to strike or not. Harry relaxed a bit when a few tense moments passed.

RIIIIIPPPP

Harry stared at the two inch long wolf claws that just sunk into his right shoulder. He looked up at the somewhat confused face of the werewolf standing over him.

“Ow!” he whined as he pushed Hermione off of him.

She backed off a step as Harry got up and propped himself against a tree. She whimpered and whined to him as if trying to apologize in wolf speech.

“Yeah you better be sorry,” said Harry looking ungrateful, “I spare your life as a vampire but as a werewolf you just skewered me.”

Hermione kept on whining, emitting small growls as a cloud passed over the mood, “aarrrooo….arrr…mmm…arr..arry, I coul..rrrrr…dn’t control myself. Oh Harry…does it hurt?”

She walked over trying to look at the wound when Harry said its alright.

“It’ll heal, don’t worry,” he winced as he touched his shoulder.

“Harry!” shouted a voice in the bushes.

His face froze as he looked out into the forest. Vampires were coming.

“You have to get out of here Hermione, if they find you, they’ll kill you!” whispered Harry quickly.

“But what about you?” asked Hermione.

“Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine. Just go! GO!”

Hermione gave him a small hug in which he suppressed the urge to call out in pain. She took a few steps before she stopped and looked over her shoulder.

“It was nice to see you again Harry,” she said and with a small smile she disappeared into the shadows.

Two vampires came out from the trees and landed gently on the ground.

“So did you do it?” one asked.

“Yeah, it’s done,” said Harry.

“So where’s the body?” asked the second one.

“Uh…I buried it. Yeah. Don’t quite remember but yeah,” lied Harry.

“Good we don’t want them sniffing around,” said the second vampire, “you’re needed back at the castle.”

They jumped back into the trees and out of sight. Harry just stood there, still feeling his wound. He saw his blood on his hands. The moon suddenly came out again from behind a cloud casting a silvery sheen on the blood. Figuring that after what happened he deserved a bit of a snack he dabbed a bit on his teeth tasting it. It was warm; boiling almost like it was active. He never tasted blood so good, even from himself. He slowly suckled on his fingertip as he looked up at the full moon in the sky.

4. Do Gratuitous sex scenes make you laugh or chuckle? YOU CAN

Chapter 4: Do Gratuitous sex scenes make you laugh or chuckle? YOU CAN'T CHOOSE BOTH!!!

Harry had felt a different the next few days. He had a lighter step in his walk. Some vampires bid him hello in the corridors. Renoir praised him for “killing” two werewolves in one night. Fred and George wondered why he was so nice to the customers on the days he actually bothered to show up. Something was different about him.

He woke up one evening feeling more refreshed than ever even if the wound on his shoulder had not completely healed. Vampires usually regenerate quite quickly for major wounds, even quicker for minor ones. In a day they would have nothing but perhaps a scar left, but even then, unless very serious, scars disappear as well. Werewolf wounds were different since they actually heal at a slower rate. Almost at a the normal rate of a human. He had to stay in the castle at night in order to be looked over just in case something happens. Harry looked under his dressings at the claw marks that Hermione had left them on their forest outing. Even though it didn’t hurt at the time it still stung and ached.

Harry was feeling a bit peculiar the past few days. He taste for his own blood has piqued ever since the night with Hermione and he would find himself pricking his own finger then sucking on it until it healed from time to time. Although satisfying in its own little way, it wasn’t as powerful or as tasty as it was on the night he met Hermione. Yet he was beginning to think about her more and more. How her hair flowed down her shoulders. How eager her eyes were when they almost kissed. How worried she was when she injured him.

Harry looked out on his balcony watching as the moon waned. He had if Hermione had made it back and what would happen to her. Would she report this to her superior? Would they hurt her at all for being the only one remaining alive? To tell the truth he didn’t know too much about werewolf culture except for the hateful musings of Renoir and other vampires in the castle. However most of the time he ignored it all.

“Where are you Hermione?” thought Harry.

“Psssst!”

Harry was about to go back to his room when he turned around. He looked out over the forest, it was silent.

“Psssst! Harry…Down here!”

He looked down. There he saw a peculiar brown bush of hair moving among the the trees.

“Hermione!” Harry said enthusiastically, but his face turned grim, “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous for you to be here!”

“I wanted to see how you’re doing,” whispered Hermione as she parted a few tree branches.

“You could have just sent an owl!” hissed Harry, as he looked over his shoulder.

Hermione struggled at a thorn patch that caught on her robes, “And I wanted to see you too.”

“Hermione you can’t just…” said Harry, but he looked back into his room making sure that no one could hear them. By the time he finished checking Hermione had already climbed up the stone wall and was hanging over the balcony.

Hermione looked at the moon as if she first noticed it.

“Arroooooooooooo!” she howled

“Hermione! No!” hissed Harry.

“Harry?” came a knock at the door, “What’s going on in there?”

Harry pushed Hermione over the balcony sending her falling into a group of trees. He gasped at what he done and looked over to see if she was alright just as the door to his room opened. A burly middle aged vampired looked in supiciously.

“What’s going on here?” he asked eyes searching the room, “I thought I heard a werewolf howl.”

“Uh…right,” said Harry thinking quickly, “that was me! Yeah. Just practicing howls so we could lure werewolves into traps and such.”

The vampire looked at him suspiciously, “Ok then, but keep it down. Your howl sounds pretty genuine…and it’s making me nervous.”

The vampire shut the door just as Hermione came over the balcony. She spat out some grass as her hair was full of leaves and her robes covered in thorns.

“That’s a nice way to greet your friend who came over to see how you are feeling,” she said ungratefully.

“Shhhh!” shushed Harry as he walked over, locked his door and took out his wand. He whispered a small incantation and a green light appeared in front of the door for a split second before turning invisible again.

“There. I muted the door but not too loud! It’s not absolute soundproof,” whispered Harry.

Hermione was just shaking the rest of the thorns out of her robes. She then fixed her hair and looked around the room. It was simple really. Nothing entirely impressive, in fact even more boring than the Hogwarts dormitories.

“So this is where you live?” she asked, not really caring for an answer.

“Yes,” said Harry, feeling his heart pounding from fear, “thank you for visiting but can you please leave?”

“So you don’t like my company?” asked Hermione with a questioning look.

“No it’s not that, it’s just…” Harry was searching for the right words but noticed his fear was slowly disappearing. His heart still thumped the same pace though.

Hermione got a bit closer to him, “You know, we still haven’t finished what we started in the forest there.”

“Uh what?” asked Harry once again tongue tied. He knew perfectly what.

“Just a kiss, that’s all Harry,” said Hermione. There were those eyes again, looking at him eagerly.

“We’re friends Hermione. Just…” he sputtered as he was walking backwards trying to not concentrate on her warm lips upon his.

“That excuse is getting old Harry,” said Hermione quietly as she closed her eyes and moved in even closer.

Harry tripped on his bed, falling down into it. It felt like time slowed as they fell, as Hermione was going to dive bomb her lips onto his mouth. He had half a mind to close his eyes and enjoy the moment when Hermione’s full weight fell right onto his shoulder. He winced in pain and Hermione snapped out of her task.

“Oh Harry, I’m sorry. Sorry sorry,” she said as she began to prop him up on a pillow.

“I’m fine…I’m fine Hermione,” said Harry, a bit disappointed, “It just caught me by surprise that’s all.”

Hermione sat on the bed beside him. She looked at the floor as if she was thinking about something.

“I never did thank you for saving my life Harry,” said Hermione abruptly.

Harry was speechless. He seemed surprise that after all they’ve been through Hermione would still have to thank him for doing what’s right.

“You don’t have to say that,” said Harry quietly, “we’re…”

But he stopped himself from saying it. Instead he took his hands and looked into Hermione’s eyes with care.

“His eyes are so beautiful,” Hermione thought, “I could get lost in them forever.”

Harry was gently rubbing her hands and she felt a sudden warmth in them. She always thought vampires were dead thus their bodies cold, but this wasn’t the case.

“You know, I just wish there was a way I could thank you Harry,” she said quietly.

“No Hermione you don’t have,” but it was already too late. Hermione had reached over staring him straight in the eye and started to unbutton his shirt. When she got halfway down she spreaded her hands over his chest. Harry felt the warmth from her hands pulse like energy over his heart, his lungs, even his ribs. She moved her left hand parting his shirt so it exposed his right shoulder. Slowly she took off the banadages.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked seriously.

“Yeah,” said Harry his eyes feeling dreamy, “Just a bit. It stings really. Aches sometimes.”

She placed the bandages on the dresser and lent down given the area around the wound a small kiss. It did hurt but Harry felt relief anyways. Hermione kept kissing around the wound, her gentle lips caressing his skin. He could feel her breath flow warmly over his chest.

Harry could feel his arms wrap around to the small of her back. Then he felt nothing. No pain not anything. He looked down and saw Hermione looking at him from his chest with those beautiful brown eyes.

“Hermione,” he said quietly as he drew her in closer.

Their lips met into a deep kiss. They felt as if a train had hit them as they positioned themselves better onto the bed. Hermione had taken off Harry’s shirt completely as Harry started to take off Hermione’s robes, they lips still locked together. He flipped her over onto her back as he unbuttoned her blouse. Hermione gave a small yelp of pain and Harry drew back.

“What’s wrong?” he said looking very worried.

Hermione touched her lower lip, “it was your fangs. They cut my lip.”

“You’re alright aren’t you?”

Hermione answered by rising up to kiss him again. Harry took this oppurnity to take off her blouse. He clasped onto the back of her bra trying to undo it. Meanwhile he tasted a bit of her blood in his mouth. It tasted warm, active and familiar. It was the blood he tasted the night in the forest with Hermione. Somehow some of her blood must’ve gotten into his wound. He remembered her holding onto her wound with her hands that night. Tired of the bra being so stubborn he took his fingernail and with a flick, cut off the strap.

Hermione sensed this and slowly leaned back onto the bed. Her full breasts laid bare in front of Harry who stared at how beautiful Hermione looked. How had he never noticed it before? He looked into Hermione’s face, she looked a bit nervous. She never felt this vulnerable before, but also never felt this excited. Harry leaned down hovering over her face and kissed her gently. Slowly he moved his way down, kissing her neck, her chin and each shoulder. He glided his tongue over the top of one of her breasts and she gave a slight shudder. He swirled his tongue around her nipple and ended by sucking on it. Hermione guided his free hand to her other breast; gently instructing him, by hand, how to fondle it. Her other hand rubbing his smooth black hair messing it up even further, if that was ever possible.

Harry was moving his kisses over to the other breast when his fang rubbed against her nipple.

“Oh!” she moaned.

Harry looked up at her worried, “What’s wrong?”

“Do that again,” she said quietly eyes still closed in pleasure.

“Do what again?”

“Something hard rubbed against it, just do it again,” she said quietly unable to quite make coherent sentences.

Harry went down and started to kiss her nipple again and then started to move down into her cleavage when Hermione squealed.

“Oh just like that,” she said with a wicked smile, “Your fangs. Rub your fangs against me.”

Harry smiled, “You are so…”

“Dirty?” suggested Hermione.

“That’s one way of putting it,” said Harry.

Now knowing what to do Harry moved over to her other breast, while gently massaging the other. He put his tongue on his front teeth, hovering between his two enlongated fangs and proceeded to gently but firmly move his mouth from side to side over her nipple.

“Oh Harry,” she moaned with each pass as Harry was careful not to hurt her.

Slowly he began to unbutton her pants. With enough room he reached down in between her legs.

Hermione shot up and Harry backed off. He looked at her wondered if he did actually hurt her this time.

“Did I do anything wrong? Am I going too fast?” he asked.

“No,” said Hermione with a smile, “just took me by surprise.”

He leant down and made small kisses down her stomach.

“What are you doing?” she asked playfully.

“Just checking if I like what I see,” replied Harry.

Hermione chuckled as Harry took off her pants.

“Do you like what you see?”

“Yes…yes I do,” said Harry in amazement.

She took off her panties and he started to kiss her stomach again as he reached down she spread her legs to give him room and started to give long deep laps. Hermione moaned as she placed her hands on Harry’s head asking him for more. He kept on working away consuming her fragrance. He looked up and Hermione looked back in complete pleasure. Harry wasn’t even sure she was completely there anymore. He was very careful even when Hermione tried to buck her hips into him for more. Hermione felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over her as she climaxed, still wanting more. Harry saw her smooth inner thigh. His urge was too great so he let off and gave a small prick on the side of Hermione’s thigh. She sqeauled at the pain, but relaxed when Harry started to suck on the small pin point hole on her leg.

Hermione brought him up to her mouth kissing him deeply. He could feel her pleasure through his mouth. She was trembling with it. He looked down on her with loving eyes and she returned the gaze.

“I want you in me Harry,” she said quietly as Harry kissed her neck.

Harry took off his pants shortly after and let her guide him into her warmth. She bought herself to his chest in pleasure and moaned as Harry filled her.

“Oh Harry,” she said as she kissed his chest, “More…please.”

Harry thrusted feeling himself falling in to her. She writhed in pleasure as she dragged her fingernails over his back, drawing blood.

“Ah! Hermione!” moand Harry, half in pain half in pleasure.

They clasped their hands together interlocking their fingers. Hermione struggling to keep her eyes open to look at Harry’s. She gasped as she was nearing climax. With a yelp she flipped Harry onto his back riding his hips. He could feel her clasping onto him, dragging his hips up from the bed. Harry tried to thrust with Hermione’s movements, until they got into a perfect rhythym. Their bodies were in a perfect unison of passion.

“Hermione,” gasped Harry, “I can’t hold on any longer.”

“Just a bit longer Harry…I’m nearly there,” panted Hermione.

Harry propped himself up holding onto the small of her back, holding on so they can climax together in the perfect moment. Hermione looked into his eyes one last time before she let out a great howl as they both climaxed. Hermione kept on howling when there was a banging on the door.

“Harry! Keep your werewolf howling practice down! Some of us are trying to drink wine in peace here!” yelled a voice through the door.

Harry put a finger into Hermione’s mouth, telling her to settle down, “Yes sir! Sorry about that! Ouch! Stop that!”

Hermione had bit his finger, drawing blood . She began to suck on his finger eagerly, apparently she had developed a taste for his blood.

“What’s going on in there. It sounds like you’re with someone!” yelled the voice.

“Uh…no one in here! Just my owl that’s all!” shouted Harry trying to push Hermione under the sheets, but she resisted as she pawed him, “Yeah just writing a letter here. Nothing to wor…OW! Stop biting me Her…wig! Stop that Herwig!”

Hermione started to nibble on Harry’s ear.

“Well just keep it down!” shouted the voice and it was never heard from for the rest of the night.

“Why did you have to do that?” pouted Hermione looking disappointed but her huge smile said otherwise, “Are you afraid that someone will know you’re doing something naughty in here?”

“No! It’s because I don’t want people to know that I’m sexing it up with a werewolf,” Harry replied as he shut the windows and the door to his balcony.

“The Harry I remembered loved to take risks,” Hermione said, “If I remembered correctly it was I who was the resident prune.”

“Well this time it’s different Hermione,” said Harry seriously, “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I don’t care Harry. I would die protecting you with my own life,” she said.

“That’s all great, but who’ll protect me when your dead?” he asked with a slight smile.

Hermione laid her head on Harry’s chest breathing calmy. Harry looked out in the distance while running his hands through her hair.

“I just can’t believe it Hermione Granger,” said Harry a bit playfully.

“You can’t beileive what Harry Potter?” asked Hermione as she looked up at him.

“That I am so in love with you,” he said looking into her eyes, “Two warring houses, vampires and werewolves. And yet we still come together despite it all. It’s like…like…Rome…

“Don’t Harry,” said Hermione abruptly.

“Don’t what?”

“Say it.”
“What?”

“It’s so cliché. We don’t need that.”

“But I love you Hermione.”

She looked up into his emerald eyes and there was a certain intensity about them. She melted at those eyes. She drew up and kissed him deeply.

“I love you,” she said simply but sincerely.

“This is like Romeo and Juliet,” said Harry lazily after a moment’s silence.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” said Hermione looking unappreciative.

“Why? It’s true. You came by my balcony. Here we are, in love,” explained Harry.

“Now’ve you done it,” said Hermione getting up looking at him with a slightly disgruntled look, “If you think, Harry Potter, that I’m going to kill myself for you, just because you mucked up a plan and killed yourself first, you’re dead wrong.”

Harry looked at her increduosly, “Didn’t you just say an hour ago that you’d die for me?”

“I’d die protecting you,” smiled Hermione putting her head back down onto his chest, “I didn’t say anything about dying to be with you in death. That’s entirely different.”

Harry looked a bit disappointed while Hermione laughed a bit. They snuggled up to each other, sharing their own heat and letting it warm each other as they drifted off to a wonderful sleep.

Harry woke up thinking he had a most wonderful dream, but upon feeling a big bushel of brown hair flowing over his face his stomach dropped. He looked over a the clock, it was nearly dawn. The sky was slowly growing red but there was not enough light the floor fo the room. Harry randomly grabbed at the lumps of garments on the floor, tossing them onto the bed.

“Hermione wake up!” he hissed.

The mound of brown hair stirred as Hermione started to sit up with the blankets wrapped around her. She looked like a sundae topped with chocolate shavings.

“What’s going on Harry?” she said yawning, trying to get her eyes to adjust to darkness of the room.

“There’s no time, you have to get out,” hissed Harry as he tossed some robes into Hermione’s face without realizing it. “They’re going find out you’re here!”

Hermione ripped the robes off her face. “Let them Harry. They can’t do anything what with the treaty in place. They can’t touch me,” she said defiantly.

Harry glared at her and yelled, “Now is not the time Hermione! Now get dressed!”

She looked at his face, her eyes smoldering. Harry could see she was about to say something when she turned around and started to sort through the clothes on her side of the floor. Harry stood there panting, trying to remember what just happened. He felt the heat of his anger die down regaining his senses. The growing red light hurt his eyes slightly as he winced almost snapping out of his trance. Hermione silently dressed on the bed, her back facing him. Harry sat down feeling all his guilt fall down on his shoulders as he buttoned up his shirt.

“I’m sorry…for yelling at you,” said Harry quietly.

“My underwear please,” she said.

Harry looked confused, “Pardon me?”

“You have my underwear in your hand,” Hermione said without looking at him. “You handed me yours instead of mine.”

“Oh…sorry,” said Harry apolgetically as he reached over. Hermione grapsed at it, and left Harry’s on the bed, trying her best to quickly dress.

Harry finally gotten his pants on and walked over, seeing Hermione doing up her robes. He sat down beside her trying to look at her, but she tried her best to look away.

“I said I’m sorry,” said Harry trying to hold her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you that way.”

“No it’s ok,” said Hermione forcefully. “You don’t want to get into trouble that’s all. You just want to protect me. That’s perfectly fine.”

“Please don’t be like that,” pleaded Harry.

“Be like what?” she said glaring at him. “Treating you like I care about myself more than you?”

“That’s not fair. I did not do that,” said Harry, feeling that bit of anger rising up again from his stomach.

“Why can’t you leave Harry? Come with me…we’ll leave all of this behind. Vampires, werewolves, we’ll go somewhere where it’ll just be us!”

“I can’t do that,” said Harry, “My master can call me back at any time!”

“Then fight it Harry!” pleaded Hermione. “You don’t have to be under his control!”

“Oh just like how you fought so hard to rip me while you were a werewolf? It’s not so simple Hermione, it’s not a matter of will power.”

“That’s not fair,” she protested.

“Harry?” said a voice from outside the door. “Are you ok in there?”

Harry just stared at Hermione, their anger at each other rivaling the passion from last night. Another string of knocks came from the door and Harry looked outside as the sky grew redder by the second.

“You should leave,” said Harry solemnly. “Now.”

Hermione looked around the room, as if contemplaing options; perhaps trying to find something to toss at Harry’s head. She closed her eyes for a second as if trying to steady herself and let out a sharp outtake of breath. She walked out to the balcony and sat on the ledge. She was about to jump down she she looked back, the skylight illuminating her face.

“The Harry I once knew would do anything for his friends. Just like his friends would do anything for him,” she said before she jumped down into the forest below. Harry walked over to the curtains and looked out seeing Hermione’s head blend into the red leaves below. Unable to bear the sunlight anymore, he closed the curtains resting himself against the wall. Just that moment the door opened, the inquisitive vampire had broken the lock.

“Harry are you alright? I though I heard voices in here,” asked the vampire.

“Yes…Yes I’m fine,” he said.

“Ok then…sorry about the lock,” said the vampire as he closed the door the best he could.

Harry felt lower than he ever had in the past seven years. He sighed reflecting upon what good happened last night but the crash ending kept popping into his head.

“Well that seemed awfully contrived,” thought Harry to himself. In that instance he felt the room shake a bit. Must’ve been a small earth tremor, the mountains have been known for such things.

5. Contrived? Well I never been so insulted! HMPH!

Chapter 5: Contrived? Well I never been so insulted! HMPH!

Over the next month, Harry was more disgruntled than ever. The vampires welcomed the scowling, Renoir mistaken it for the vampire lust for blood. When Fred and George tried to ask what was going on, Harry ignored them, angrily checking off inventory. The twins were a bit disappointed, but they had to regulate Harry to work in the back to prevent him from snapping at the various customers. His appearance did not improve either. Everyday he seemed less and less motivated to groom himself for work, his robes getting more wrinkled and worn; his hair more disheveled even for his usual self.

As angry as Harry was with Hermione, he still thought about her constantly. He would remember the night they spent together, but just as soon as a smile crept over his face, he would recollect the argument that happened between them. He tried once to send a letter to her apologizing. Hedwig came back carrying a small pouch which contained the shredded remains of his letter. He took that as a no.

The castle offered no console either. Ever since his exploits, vampires have been expecting great things from him. He was officially back on the celebrity radar. While this boded well with the vampire community’s morale, especially for Renoir, Harry spent most of days at the castle in his room fuming. Harry was about to turn into bed at dawn when there was a slight rap on his door. Renoir stepped in, looking as debonair as usual.

“Harry! I’ve been wanting to get a hold of you,” said Renoir.

Harry got up, lazily bowed and sulked back down into his bed. “What do you want master?”

“Tonight is our monthly Vampire/Werewolf mixer. One of our dignitaries has been…away on business to the south. I was just wondering if you could take his place. We need to keep up appearances after all,” request Renoir.

Harry contemplated how wonderful it would be to spend a night in a hall full of vampires and werewolves, all of them no doubt wanting a chance to rip their heads off at the slightest insult. Harry knew it was futile to resist. “Yes master,” said Harry with a tired look on his face.

“Wonderful, I’ll inform the others,” said Renoir with a delightful smile on his face. “And please do freshen up Harry. We don’t need to lower our standards for our guests.”

Harry scoffed as the door closed and he got up. He did his best to clean himself up, feeling a tad refreshed by his shower and donning new fresh robes. Tired of staring up at his ceiling, he walked out to the balcony and looked over the forest. Half the moon lit the grounds. He felt the cool wind fill his lungs, lifting his spirits slightly. A slight murmur caught his attention from below and he quickly looked. He half expected a brown bush of hair to be heading towards his way, but instead it was a small congregation of werewolves heading towards the front doors. Sighing, Harry took one last look at himself and he headed towards the great hall.

The Great Hall looked a bit more lively than usual. Torches were lit, illuminating the room, chairs and tables full of warm food were situated against a wall. The fireplace roared with life and even the vampires’ faces looked a bit more alive. Harry looked more surprised than pleased that vampires could be this warm and welcoming as they greeted werewolves at the door. One thing he did notice had not changed was the cobwebs, still clinging desperately to the torches. He wondered if they treasured the cobwebs because they are so similar to themselves, ancient useless things unwilling to leave this world.

Renoir’s snide voice echoed in the halls, giving out false welcomes and praise. A werewolf standing beside him returned the gesture. Harry began to wonder if they were brothers separated at birth on the similarity of their voices. He was tall, slightly taller than Renoir and burly. He had a long gaunt face with flecks of grey in his brown hair. When one of his kin prodded him to wake up and listen to the great Renoir, Harry actually looked up and caught some of the words of the speech.

“Now before we mingle a bit, we might as well start out with the dance,” said Renoir boisterously. “Nothing speaks more harmony between two people…or in this case two races such a good dance. So come on now people, partner up, we are all friends here.”

Harry looked across the room and saw a great divide, vampires on one side of the room, werewolves on the other side and what seemed to be the dance floor in between. Had there not been a banner saying “Monthly Vampire/Werewolf Mixer” on the back wall, he’d would have thought this be a battlefield. Looking at his fellow brethren, it was clear that most of them were apprehensive. He looked over to the werewolf side and they were equally displeased. When Renoir finally encouraged the crowds to join (with his counterpart almost barking commands), Harry felt himself being pushed along with them amongst many low murmurs.

He looked lazily around the room feeling a bit compelled to find a dance partner. His had his doubts when a lot of the werewolf females looked more disgruntled than anything else. He was about to turn around until in the corner of his eye he caught something…a big brown bushy something. He blinked, almost knocking his head into another vampire to look. He apologized profusely and saw the big bundle of hair move off into the center of the crowd. The band slowly tuned their instruments. Harry rushed up to a figure in a pink dress, knocking a suitor out of his way.

“Sorry, so sorry,” apologized Harry, grabbing a hold of Hermione’s hand. “Uh…she’s already taken.”

The vampire looked a bit displeased, all the same he drifted into the crowd who were still trying to organize themselves.

“Harry,” exclaimed Hermione, her face lit up a bit. As if remembering something particularly sour, she turned her head as if looking for someone else.

“What are you doing here?” hissed Harry looking over Hermione’s shoulder to make sure no one was watching them.

“Not seeing you, if that is what you’re thinking,” said Hermione with a bit of a scoff. The music had started. With no one else available in their vicinity, she reluctantly took Harry’s hand. They were dancing a small waltz albeit poorly.

“I gathered that much with your reply to my owl,” said Harry, his head twitching to look off in every direction.

“I didn’t think you’d care much for a written reply from me,” she said.

“Look I said I’m sor….could we not do this now? What are you even doing here?” said Harry as he saw a vampire whisper into Renoir’s ear. Harry guided them deeper into the dance crowd.

“I was asked to attend this meeting by my superiors,” she replied coldly. “Something that I could not control so it seems.”

“Could you please stop being so stubborn?” said Harry as he was dancing towards a far wall.

“I don’t think you’re in any position that call me that,” replied Hermione looking very angry. “And furthermore you….”

Hurry put his hand over her mouth and pushed her into a broom closet. Hermione started to protest while Harry tried his best to close the door as quietly as possible. When he turned around, he saw Hermione looking very crossly at the corner of the room.

“Hermione would you at least look at me?” pleaded Harry.

The icy silence of her back stared at him. He felt a sudden drop in his stomach, lower than every before.

“Hermione please…I already said I was sorry,” continued Harry. “What more do you want?”

“No it’s fine,” she replied in an indistinct tone.

Harry felt a slight sense of relief until she started speak. “I mean I’d assume that the both of us haven’t been close to anyone for some time. We all need some physical release every now and again. I completely understand.”

“That’s not fair!” exclaimed Harry feeling more hurt than angry. “I’ve never intended it to be….”

“A one night stand?” interrupted Hermione. “Well sorry if I’m mistaken, because it certainly felt that way.”

“Hermione!” said Harry, not caring anymore if anyone hears them. He walked towards her turning her around. “Will you quite being so stubbo…”

He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Hermione’s face. She stared at him sternly; straight in the eye, faint tears streaming down her cheek. What seemed like hours, she turned away and attempted to regain her composure. Harry gently touched shoulders and brought her in close. He gave out a deep sigh feeling Hermione’s sobs reverberate against his chest. He stepped back and looked down.

“Hermione. I’m…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ have treated you that way. I should have known better,” he said quietly.

Hermione sniffled and looked up into Harry’s eyes. He felt relief wash over him as she forced a small but sincere smile. “I’m sorry too Harry. I guess we both were a bit high strung lately. I’ve been so lonely…and when I saw you at the reunion, I just…just felt something life my spirits again,” she said as she dipped her head again. “That night when I found out you were a vampire…well I thought you would of all people would understand.”

Harry smiled and put a finger under her chin gently bringing it back up; her face still glistened slightly from the tears, her eyes very red.

“I do understand,” he said as he leant down to give her a kiss.

“No Harry,” she said, just as he could taste her breath “Stop. I thought about what you said. And you are right.”

“What?” said Harry, feeling something sharp hit him in his gut.

“We can’t be together,” she said. “Not like this. Not like in our states.”

“Hermione,” he said. “When I first saw you again that night of the battle in the forest on our side of the border…”

“The werewolf side Harry,” she said very plainly.

“Whatever,” brushed off Harry too excited to argue. “The point is we can make it work. We can think of something together! You always come up with something.”

“I’ve already given it thought Harry,” she said sadly, “and…it’s just not meant to be.”

She looked at him as if to see if he understood, but he was beyond comfort. He looked at her beautiful eyes again, perhaps for the last and final time. With the decision that they can not be together again he sighed and closed his.

“I’ll see you Harry,” said Hermione apprehensively. She gave him a soft kiss on his cheek and exited the broom closet. Harry heard the music leak through at full volume and then muffled again shortly but the shut door. He felt as if the broom closet was closing in on him. In fact he wouldn’t mind so much if the ceiling collapse right on top of him now. A wash of muffled applause from outside wakened him from his misery. Seeing this an opportune time, he headed for the door until it actually started to open.

He literally jumped into the air, eight feet and instinctively clung onto the walls with his hands and feet, his body splayed flat against the ceiling. As the applause continued two figures bustled into the broom closet. It was Renoir with the person who was onstage with him earlier making the announcements.

“Do you know that girl who just left this broom closet? She looks familiar. Is she one of yours?” inquired Renoir as he walked into the door.

“What were you thinking talking like that earlier?” growled the man pushing Renoir.

“Please,” said Renoir with an insincere smile. “Could you watch your hands? I had this suit made especially for me over a century ago. I had some fond memories with this suit.”

“Now is not the time for passive aggressive proddings Renoir; from either side!”

“What do you ever mean my dear Kain?” said Renoir. “I was just merely keeping up appearances.”

“It looked like you were trying to start a war out there Renoir. As much as I would relish our first battle to in your,” Kain paused, looking up and down at the vampire in front of him; as if sizing him up, “quaint little castle, we have higher priorities.”

Renoir laughed as if the idea amused him very greatly.

Kain glared at him and grabbed Renoir by his shirt, “We can’t have any suspicion happening so close to the completion of our goals. Especially by your rantings.”

Renoir eyes widened at where Kain was holding him.

“Keep your filthy paws off me,” said Kain quietly.

Kain pushed him against the shelves of the far wall, shaking the broom closet. Harry slipped down an inch, his heart felt it slipped down twelve.

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” said Kain with a great defiant smile. “You know Renoir…as much as it aggravates me to have to work with you. I find slight comfort knowing that such a proud vampire as yourself requires the assistance of a werewolf.”

Harry gulped as he saw possibly for the first time ever, Renoir show a loss of composure. He was ready to strike, fangs bared, hands clawed, his eyes full of intent to kill, but he just stood there panting. Kain just laughed as Renoir just stood there, glaring at him knowing full well Renoir couldn’t just rip his head off. Moments passed and the sound of applause came through the doorway. Renoir’s fangs retracted and he smoothed his hair back, regaining his dignity, but Kain just smiled.

“The night is ending. Thank you for a pleasant evening Renoir,” said Kain, still grinning at his small victory. “Keep your tongue in place in the future…lest you want our rise to power be cut short.”

Kain was about to leave when he turned around. Harry didn’t think he could hold on for any longer, his arms were burning, his legs were shaking. “And for future meetings, something better than a broom closet if you don’t mind. It’s far too stuffy in here.”

Renoir sneered as Kain left and closed the door. He hit the side of the closet, smashing a hole into the stone with his fist causing the room to shake and Harry to lose even more of a grip. His robes were inches away from touching the top of Renoir’s head. Renoir closed his eyes, sighed and moved his head up, taking deep breaths. Harry froze daring not to even breathe.

Renoir then brought his head down, forcing his eyes open almost in an attempt to stay awake. He left soon after, putting on his best smile. Just as the door closed for the last time, Harry dropped right onto the floor. He held his nose, feeling it slightly bruised. With his ear pressed against the door, he heard Renoir bidding a fond, but fake farewell to the werewolf company. There were signs of relief and murmurs of disgust as the voices outside died down. Harry waited until he heard the great hall empty and fall silent.

When he finally got out of the broom closet, the great hall was dark again. Golden embers cracked quietly in the fireplace and a draft circled the room. Off in the distance he could hear howls in the night. Harry didn’t know what to say or even to think. He felt a need to do something, yet was there anything to be done? Can he actually do anything at all? He headed towards one of the exits of the great hall.

“What was that all about?” thought Harry as he headed towards his room. For the first time in a month, as he headed toward his room, Harry did not think about Hermione.

6. And now...an intermission

Chapter ?!: And now you are cordially invited to the foyer for an intermission

Nov 24th

Dear Hermione,

I have to meet with you to discuss something important. It happened the on the night we spent in the broom closet. Please respond as soon as possible.

Regards

Harry

Nov 29th

Dear Harry,

Please do not send me any further owls. It is not safe anymore for us to be together and even correspondence puts us in danger. Think of our safety. We tend to screen our owls and now people are asking me about my fascination with brooms. I don’t need this extra attention, especially now.

Sincerely

Hermione

Dec 3rd

Dear Hermione,

This isn’t about us. It’s about something else that happened. It involves ‘our’ bosses at work. Please we need to meet to discuss.

H.P.

Dec 7th

Dear Harry,

So we are no longer important anymore? I should have figured, men are all alike, I went through this before Harry, and I’m not about to fall into old habits again. And I don’t care about your work. Please stop sending me owls, I imagine Hedwig is tired of flying so much.

Regards

Hermione

Dec 12th

Hermione,

I didn’t mean it that way. I still care for you. I didn’t mean to hurt you but we really need to get together despite our ‘differences’. This concerns both of us.

H.P.

Dec 18th

Dear Hermione,

That howler you sent me was not funny. It was during the weekly wine tasting party and now everyone is concerned about my ‘rash’ that you mentioned. If you’re not going to meet me that is fine. Don’t expect another owl from me any time soon.

H.P.

7. Hindshadowing totally works! AKA

Chapter 6: The Reintroduction of the best Harry Potter characters ever

Harry’s face looked storm ridden as if a dark cloud has become a permanent fixture on his face. This was not far off the mark considering he volunteered to be a test subject for one of Fred and George’s new products: "The Pocket Storm." A small black cloud was gently raining on Harry’s head, causing his usual messy hair to fall flat. He didn’t show an inch of discomfort. In fact it wasn’t so much volunteering as the Twins just floated the cloud his way as he sulked on the counter. Sadly the small dark little storm cloud looked positively cheery compared to Harry’s demeanor.

The cloud dissipated after a few moments, much to the Twins’ dismay. George picked up a towel and tossed it at Harry while Fred scribbled on some parchment.

"Here Harry," said George, "dry off now."

"I like the flow," commented Fred while still looking over his parchment, "but we still have to work on the longevity of the cloud. I’m afraid we might make it too heavy if we add anything more to it."

"Once again brother of mine, you are correct," said George with a smile, "perhaps if we tweaked the amount of powd…"

George stopped in his tracks as he saw that Harry hasn’t moved from his spot. In fact he didn’t even catch the towel as it just slumped there on his head; making him like a poor half visible ghost. They slowly walked over and slowly picked up a corner of the towel as if trying to join Harry under the small piece of cloth.

"What’s a matter Harry?" asked Fred.

"Why are you so miserable?" asked George.

Harry just sighed, his face looking blanker than Lockheart’s obliviated mind.

"Come on now Harry," said Fred. "We’re your friends. You could tell us."

When Harry’s face didn’t change at all, George said, "We’re also your bosses…we can make you tell us."

"Fine…then fire me," said Harry coldly without blinking. "It’d probably do me a load of good."

The towel dropped, covering Harry’s face again. Fred and George were taken aback with his forwardness. Fred actually felt a bit flustered by the comment, even angry.

"Now see here Harry," started Fred, pointing his finger at the towel covered face of Harry. "We’ve put up with a lot since you’ve been here. It’s been bearable at first, even funny, but recently you’ve just been bringing the vampire gloom that you complain about into the shop. I’m sorry but that’s bad for business and we’ll have to let you g…"

George stopped him mid-sentence bringing his twin to the back of the shop. They whispered between each other. Fred seemed a bit more apprehensive, his voice sounding loud enough to hear words like; no we can’t or it’s his problem. Harry even thought he heard something about a claw and a throat. It ended with Fred begrudgingly accepting his brother’s suggestion, whatever it was. They gathered their composure and walked back to the counter where Harry hadn’t moved at all.

"We’ll help you Harry," they said together with a smile.

Harry paused until he monotonously said, "I’m fine. I don’t need any help…really."

"No Harry," said Fred, "We can help you."

"Especially with your problem with….Hermione," said George putting a specific but innocent emphasis on the last part.

Harry ripped off the towel to see the twins wearing huge grins. He was speechless; he felt his stomach had vacated his body through his mouth. He felt his pulse rise and his neck tense up. He knew that they weren’t assuming anything. They wore the faces of people who were completely sure of themselves. Those sneaky bastards.

"Wow Harry, that’s the most we seen your face move all week," said Fred plainly.

"Be careful now Harry," warned George. "You might cramp your face if you keep that up any longer. Oh wait now, is that a crack I see in your cheek there?"

Harry just stared at them, as if completely puzzled by the two people standing in front of him. Slowly but surely and with a slight hint of venom he said, "How did you find out?"

"Come off it Harry," said George. "We may be jokers, but we’re not stupid."

"Give us some credit," continued Fred. "We saw your face before you became…like this. It was like you were looking at a Veela photo album."

"Besides…we read your letters."

"WHAT?!" exclaimed Harry.

"It was a real bugger putting together that first one…you know the one all ripped up and such," said Fred as if reminiscing a particularly troublesome night.

"Yeah, the first time around it look like you were asking Hagrid for some threstrals for a carriage ride. But through perseverance…"

"As we are always known for," interjected Fred.

"…we read that heartfelt apology. And by Merlin…any girl would have accepted that apology."

"Ah my fellow twin," said Fred. "Hermione’s not just any girl. And if Harry’s going to win her back, we’re going to have to help him out."

"Just wait a second!" interrupted Harry. He was feeling violated, angry, slightly hysterical and above all else confused. The Twins were moving so fast, he has yet to catch up. He took a calming breath and exhaled sharply. "I can handle this myself."

Fred and George looked at each other as if they’ve seen something very odd. They walked behind the counter and stood beside him, one twin for each side. They put their arms over his shoulders as if consoling a comrade in arms.

"Harry…Harry," started Fred in a fairly patronizing tone. Harry was quite used to this tone before, having heard them talk to Ron this way on countless occasions. "Don’t get us wrong Harry, we like you. But you’ve a been a bit clumsy when it comes to the girls."

"Like a giant walking down Diagon Alley," said George.

"Or like Hagrid walking down Diagon Alley," added Fred.

"Same thing."

"Is not."

"Ok...OK!" said Harry, getting quite tired of being a telephone between them. "I get the idea. But I think…"

"Harry," stopped George. "You’ve been going about this all wrong. You can’t just plow head on with the problem with the girl. They are complex creatures…an enigma wrapped in a puzzle…locked in…uh…an enigma."

"You have to be more subtle Harry," said Fred patting him on the shoulder. "You have to give her want she wants…but in reality you are getting what you want as well."

"So you want me to trick her?" replied Harry, looking clearly disgusted.

"No, not trick," said George. "Woo…you have to woo her Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. There was something especially wrong when the Weasley Twins are talking about the art of courtship. What he wouldn’t give to turn invisible right now and escape them, but a twinge of desperation kept him firmly planted in the grip of the Twins advice session. How he wished a customer would walk in the shop right now.

"Alright," sighed Harry, admitting defeat. "So are you going to teach me how to ‘woo’?"

"We got something better," said Fred, winking at his brother.

"We’ve got a plan," said George with a great smile as he slapped Harry on the shoulder.

A customer just came through the door as the Twins laughed, filling the store with their echoes. The Twins continued to laugh as one of them served the customer and the other went into the back to work on more projects. Harry dried himself off and began to reconsider what he gotten himself into.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Three days later, Harry found himself back in the shop nearly closing time. As per the Twins’ request he wore his dress robes. He felt a bit silly wearing them considering that they were the same dress robes that Hermione saw him at the reunion, but since it’s been so long Harry was hoping she forgot how he looked that night. Fred was counting something on the counter, and every time Harry tried to walk over to talk to him or even see what he was doing; Fred would just pause and cover up his work. As each minute passed Harry, his doubts grew and grew. He was thinking of just rushing out the door and taking his broomstick to fly off away from it all.

"How much longer?" said Harry.

"Patience Harry. A good plan needs patience," said Fred not looking at him. He continued counting something.

"Tell me an estimate at least. Half an hour? Twenty minutes?"

"When George gets back," said Fred hoping to ending the questions.

Harry looked at him, expecting more answers. When it was clear Fred was too engrossed in his current task, Harry paced on the floor. "Well at least tell me why I’m doing here…in my dress robes. They are getting cramp," complained Harry. He felt his collar becoming like a noose.

"Well isn’t it obvious? You’re going to meet Hermione here," said Fred looking a bit disappointed at Harry’s deduction skills.

"What?" shouted Harry, "You’re bringing her here? Why?"

Fred looked a bit scared at Harry being anxious. He started to pace more around the floor, fixing his hair, straightening out his robes. Harry nearly jumped at him at the counter repeating his questions.

"I know this isn’t the most romantic of places," said Fred.

"It’s a JOKE shop!" shouted Harry as in an effort to show the obvious to Fred.

"But it’ll get better…trust us."

Harry growled pacing back to the center of the shop. He could leave now, Hermione wouldn’t even know he was here. He could leave and attempt to talk to her again at a later time. Sweat was beginning to form on his brow.

"Harry," said Fred in an effort to calm him down. "In order for this plan to work you have to let us do our job. Everything is taken care of."

"Well at least tell me what you are going to do!" he demanded.

"I can’t," declined Fred. "In order for it to look genuine, you have to know as little as possible Harry. It’s on a need to know basis."

"But I need to know Fred," said Harry. "I’m the one you’re trying to help here."

"Listen Harry…we can’t have..Oh wait here comes George now."

A big head of bushy brown hair appeared through the door first. Hermione was wearing a powder blue dress, looking incredibly gorgeous and very disgruntled. George followed behind her, trying to calm her down.

"Really George," said Hermione in an exasperated voice. "Don’t ever ask me to do that again. Do you know how hard it is to apparate with dress robes? And why did we have to appear on the roof? I know there are werewolf detectors in Diagon Alley, but there are other ways of getting around them. I still don’t understand why you need me in dress robes to help you out with your storm thin…."

Hermione stopped in her tracks when she saw Harry. There was a great sense of tension in the air, so thick that the Twins felt they were being choked by it. George slammed the door, snapping the two out of their stares.

"How….What is he…why is he dressed?" sputtered Hermione, but after a long thought provoking pause her eyes narrowed and she glared at George, then at Fred.

"You…you two," she growled. She started to walk out, but George blocked her way. He wisely looked up observing some Wildfire Whiz-bangs to see if they were properly stored on the shelves. Had he hesitated he’d probably struck dead by the gaze that Hermione had locked onto him.

"Now come on Hermione, why don’t you and Harry kiss and make up. He’s been missing you…a lot. All he does is talk about you," proclaimed Fred.

"No I did not! Hermione thi…this wasn’t m..my plan," stuttered Harry, holding his hands up.

"And you…of all people I would have never…" started Hermione as she turned around to face Harry. But something stopped her dead in her tracks. In fact something stopped Harry from even trying to apologize. A great stink emanated from the floor causing them to almost gag.

"Whoops!" shouted Fred over the coughing. "Damn these dungbomb cases! They are so flimsy during transport!"

Fred looked over to George and nodded at him. George quickly took out his wand and tapped the doorknob just as Hermione ran over to try and open it. She struggled a bit and then yelled something at George through her sleeved arm.

"What’s that Hermione? I can’t quite hear you," said George between coughs.

"Get this door open!" she shouted as she removed her arm for a second.

George half-heartedly tried jiggling the latch. "Oh dear," he said in a concerned voice. "Its done it again. Must’ve happened when I slammed it. The door is sticky that way, I’ve always asked Fred to fix the darn thing."

Hermione didn’t listen as she was coughing from the stink, her eyes watering. Harry was trying to look for her with teary eyes but he grabbed onto Fred. Fred steered him towards Hermione in which Harry crashed into her, falling into a pile on the ground.

"Alright, everyone out the back entrance!" shouted Fred.

"Come on you two, now is not the time to be fooling around," said George as he helped them up by the arms.

He guided them through the green cloud of stink. As they exited the back door, they nearly lost their breath at the sight of Fred in a gas mask.

"Pretty neat eh?" said Fred behind the mask, making his voice sound hollow. "Just imagine that muggles wore these when there’s gas around."

"Alright stand back now," commanded George as he took out his wand and tapped it two times on the back door. The door shone silver for a brief second and then returned back to its normal colour. Harry and Hermione were trying to catch their breath, still coughing from the smell.

George, looking very pleased with himself, started to say, "Ok now that we’ve gotten it all sealed up we can…oh dear."

Evidentially the sealing spell was not as good as George imagined. The same stinging smell started to fill the back alley. It was even worst because it was so cramp.

"You know Fred was always better that this than I ever was," said George with a sort of nervous smile.

"Come with us then," said George, "let’s get down the alley here. Not that far, I’m sure we’ll get out of range soon enough."

They walked down the dark alley, carefully avoiding trash bins and stray cats out for their late night dinner. Everytime when the seemed to have made just out of range of the dungbomb smell, just as they could breathe in fresh air, it seemed to have caught up with them and filled their current position. They probably passed five stores by now. Harry tried his best to shield Hermione, but who can really shield someone from stink? The twins lead them further down the alley until Fred stopped.

"Whoops, end of the line folks. We can’t progress any further," announced Fred.

Harry and Hermione were about walk past him to see what the problem was when George pushed them into an open doorway.

"Quick in here! It’s safe!" hissed George.

Harry and Hermione didn’t argue at all, desperate for clean air. They walked into nearly blinded by torches that hung near the wall. They heard Fred and George come in behind them, shutting the doorway. When their eyes adjusted, they felt themselves being lead a few steps away from the door and plopped unceremoniously onto chairs. Harry blinked, trying to see what was around him when he felt something thrusted into his hands. He blinked some more, trying to get black spots out of his vision and when finally his eyes and his nose cleared, he saw he was holding a menu.

He looked across the table and Hermione was staring at one as well. He looked around and there in a small alcove off from the main dining area they were in a restaurant, looking quite busy from the waiters zigzagging back and forth between tables and patrons. A broom lazily floated in the air with a basket of bread handing off it. The diners were buzzing with discussion, busy with their own food.

"Would you like to see the wine menu sir?" said Fred, who now apparently discarded his own robes for waiter robes. "I recommend the 867 Elf Wine, very good year."

"What is this?" scowled Hermione with a glare so deadly, Harry was surprised that Fred didn’t turn into stone.

"Oh I’m sorry madam," said Fred in a very official manner. "My name is Fred and this is my brother George…we’ll be your waiters for tonight."

He nodded towards the back where George was standing guard over the door. He was just the in the process of nudging the last of his robes into a dark corner and straightening out his waiter’s uniform.

"This is subtle?" shouted Harry, not caring if anyone saw him.

"Well you got to admit Harry…it was a pretty brilliant plan," said Fred proudly.

"I knew it," said Hermione, slamming the menu on the table. "I knew it was you Harry. I gave George the benefit the doubt, trusting him that it was your day off today, but I knew something was up when he asked me to get into some nice dress robes."

"Hey now," protested Fred. "Don’t let Harry take all the credit. I mean it was our plan after all. No offense Harry, but he couldn’t have thought of anything as brilliant as this."

"Brilliant? Nearly choking us to death?" said Harry looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Well you’re still here aren’t you?" said Fred as if expecting an apology…or an award. "Look, don’t think we didn’t make any sacrifices. We wasted some perfectly good dungbombs, all in the name of getting you two back together. Which reminds me."

Fred snapped his fingers in the air over to George. George nodded, opened the door and tossed out what seemed to be an entire sack of dungbombs. A slight rumble shook the floor and thus George quickly closed the door and used the sealing charm. This time the charm did served it’s purposely flawlessly. He nodded back to Fred.

"George was always better at sealing charms," said Fred with a wink. "But a few well placed dungbombs in the alleyway could make it seem otherwise."

Hermione stood up from the table and growled at Fred. She started to walk towards George taking out her wand.

"Get out of my way George or I swear I will…"

"Can’t go back through that way Hermione, the shop is going to stink for a solid week!" said George.

Hermione scowled and walked back towards the table. She walked past Harry not even looking at him and was about to exit when Fred stepped in her way.

"I wouldn’t go that way either Hermione," warned Fred. "Unless you want to disrupt the diners. You’re not…exactly smelling like roses right now."

Fred had a very nervous face. Hermione sniffed once at her sleeve and recoiled from the residual stench. Harry noticed this as well with his suit. He began to wonder how more wrong this night could be.

"Fine…I’ll take my chances with the dungbombs," said Hermione with uttermost restraint.

"I wouldn’t do that either," said Fred. He looked over Hermione’s head and snapped his fingers at George again.

George nodded. He reached into his robes and pulled out what looked like three pieces of grey lint or cotton candy. Harry and Hermione looked on at the peculiar scene as George pulled out what seemed to be a small red ribbon out from the center of each of the grey fluffs. Quickly he unsealed the door, opened it and tossed the three things outside. A rumble sounded, louder than even the bag of dungbombs going off. George sealed the doorway just as a pitter-patter could be heard outside, spreading along the ceiling. George got back up, straightened out his uniform and nodded back to his brother.

Hermione looked at Fred with wide eyes.

"It’s raining tonight," said Fred. George gave Harry a wink and a thumbs up. "And you don’t want to go out while our Pocket Storms are in the middle of a test, you’d ruin the results of our observations."

Harry was shaking his head. He could see that Hermione was nearly boiling point if it wasn’t already past it. He saw the incredibly sense of betrayal in her eyes. Moreso he seemed to imagine that she’s angrier that she could have possibly hoodwinked by these two.

"ARGH!" yelled Hermione as she walked towards the door. The dining room discussion died down a bit as a few patrons craned their heads to see what was going on.

George stepped in front of her but Hermione jabbed her wand up into his chin.

"Hermione NO!" shouted Harry as he jumped up from his chair. Fred grabbed his shoulder stopping him and forcing him back into the chair.

"Now Hermione, we’re all adults here. We should stay reasonable now," said George with as much calm as he could muster.

"You…," hissed Hermione.

"Now Hermione…please," said Fred calmly as he handed Harry the wine list. "All we are asking is for a moment of your time. I mean here you are all dressed up and nowhere to go. I mean tonight you could have a nice reconciliatory dinner with Harry; or you could go back to the shop and ruin that nice dress you have on right now."

"I heard that blue dresses tend to attract lightening more. Read that in Dress Robes Weekly one time," whispered George, keeping his eyes carefully focused on the wand in his jugular. As if by cue, a giant rumble of thunder sounded through the door and swept through the dining area.

"Please Hermione," said Fred bringing her chair out. "We went through a lot of trouble to set this up. The owner reserved this area as a favor to us. Plus you are disturbing the patrons."

For the first time Harry and Hermione realized that a few amount of tables were looking over at what the commotion was all about. Hermione’s anger turned to slight embarrassment until she took down her wand. She begrudgingly took her seat and George glad to have his neck back intact did a small hop of joy to help set up the table.

"See?" nudged Fred. "Subtle."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Like a bludger."

The dinnerware was set before them and candles were lit. It was a fairly romantic scene was it not for the death glares emanating from Hermione.

"Would you like to hear the specials for tonight?" said George very officially. "I recommend the eye of newt soup. It’s been double boiled for that extra flavour."

"No…cough…I don’t think I could really eat anything right now," said Harry still lightheaded from his stench.

"Oh silly us, how could we forget?" said George. "Fred?"

Fred nodded and took out what seemed to be a perfume spray bottle. He spritzted a cloud full of blue mist above Harry’s and Hermione’s heads. They coughed, the mist smelling almost as bad as the dungbomb.

"What is that for?" protested Hermione, trying to swat the mist away from her.

George on the other hand was below them, sweeping up what seemed like small black rocks under their feet. They saw more appear and noticed they were dropping from the air.

"It’s Smell-o-way," said Fred. "It solidifies stench particles and makes them into completely odorless pellets."

Just as Harry and Hermione was about to protest, they stopped and actually didn’t feel faint anymore. The smell was gone. Fred looked on enthusiastically and asked if they wanted to order anything. Harry and Hermione looked at each other for a brief moment when they decided the menu seemed more important. They ordered their dishes and waited awkwardly at the table. Fred and George seemed to have given them some alone time. Hermione was often seen eyeing the door, while Harry looked off into the dining area.

After a few tense moments and multiple refilled glasses of water later, Harry broke the silence. "You look nice tonight."

Hermione just scoffed, not looking at Harry. The tension began to build again and when it was near the point of being unbearable something had to be done.

"Hermione, I’m…"

"What was so important that you had to get Fred and George to trick me to come here?"

"It wasn’t my plan," protested Harry. "But I need to talk to you Hermione. It does concern both of us."

"Well then spit it out," she demanded.

Harry steadied himself, trying to subdue the anger slowly boiling in him. Her stubbornness didn’t help with the situation. Finally after a calming breath Harry said precisely, "Kain and Renoir are working together. Your boss and my boss are planning to do something."

Hermione looked slighted. She expected something regarding their relationship, but the comment slowly sunk in. She then saw that Harry was dead serious and looked at him for the first time without malice.

"Your steak sir…extra rare," said Fred.

"And your steak madam…er…extra rare," said George.

Harry and Hermione gave a look at them that the Twins translated to bugger off. They walked of laughing and congratulating each other. After they were out of ear range they focused back on each other.

"Of course they work together, they are the one of the highest dignitaries between our two races!" said Hermione obviously.

"This wasn’t about the progression of peace between vampires and werewolves," said Harry. "They were plotting something. Something about taking over reigns of power."

"Do you know what you’re implying?" whispered Hermione, looking around to see if anyone heard.

"That our bosses who hate each other are working together for their own gain? Yes I think I figured that much by myself thank you very much."

Harry proceeded to explain what happened in the broom closet after their talk a month ago. Hermione seemed attentive, but has yet to suspend her disbelief during the whole story. Yet something in her eyes hinted at Harry that she wanted to believe, but something was holding her back.

"That’s just silly. If this is the only thing you wanted to talk to me about, I’m sorry. It’s just a veiled attempt to get me to see you."

"Hermione, why won’t you believe me?" said Harry. He didn’t notice that he actually put his hand onto hers.

Hermione paused. She saw Harry touch her hand, but didn’t try to swat it off or pull hers back. She looked up at him with calculating glances unable to look at him straight in the eye for longer than a moment.

"It’s just," said Hermione, "they could be talking about anything Harry. You know they are next in line to rule each of our respective groups. Perhaps they just want things to run smoothly."

"They were at each other’s throats," he reminded.

"I admit, they aren’t the on the most best of terms. But it’s the best they have now don’t they? It just seems…so…."

Hermione looked up at him with sheepish eyes. Harry seemed more interested in talking to his steak than with her. He wondered why she changed so much, why so long ago back at Hogwarts she would believe almost any outrageous plot out to get him. The restaurant rumbled from the thunder, shaking the dishware a bit. He couldn’t convince her, not with what he had, not anymore. He didn’t know how, but just like Hermione had read his thoughts she put her napkin onto the table.

"Is that all you needed to tell me Harry?" Hermione asked with hopeful eyes, like she was expecting something else.

"Yes…that’s all," said Harry quietly. At least the night ended without total chaos.

"Well then I’ll just have to…oh my goodness!"

Harry looked up to see a brown blur of hair disappear under the table. The clatter of dishware attracted the attention of nearby diners who deemed it a bit rude for so much noise being made. Harry looked under the table to see Hermione huddled by the legs.

"What is it?" hissed Harry.

"Renoir, your boss! He’s here!" squealed Hermione.

"What?!"

Harry sat back up and looked over at the entrance. There was Renoir looking as pompous as usual and sulking right beside him was Kain. Renoir very displeased as if dining here was beneath him; he looked very disgruntled with the Maitre D. Kain on seemed equally displeased, but probably more due to the absurdity of completely cooked food. Harry felt a sharp pinch on his leg and returned under the table.

"What are you doing? Don’t look at him, he might see you!" said Hermione.

"Kain’s with him!" said Harry.

"What?"

"Kain, your boss is with him!"

"I know! But he said he was off on business in Paris this week. He’s not supposed to be here," said Hermione.

"See?!" hissed Harry. "I told you. They are up to something!"

Hermione didn’t care, "Quick, you better get out of here before they see you!"

Harry got up to head out the alcove until he heard something that would freeze him to the bone.

"Harry!" shouted Renoir from halfway across the dining room.

"Too late," he said to Hermione under the table.

Harry sat back down and casually waved over to Renoir. He seemed more happier after sighting Harry. Kain looked more disgruntled because he was following in tow.

"What do we do? He’s coming over," said Harry through gritted teeth, still waving.

"I don’t know!" hissed Hermione, who was getting fidgety under the table.

Harry looked for options around the room. The door was still sealed, but that wasn’t so much the problem; it was the dungbombs. Worst all, it sounded like a thunderstorm outside. Harry contemplated spending a dinner with Renoir or getting electrocuted to death in the back alley. For some reason the latter seemed to be a more logical and merciful choice until Hermione jabbed him in the leg.

"Harry. Call Fred and George over! Maybe they can help!" whispered Hermione.

Harry quickly looked over and saw Fred and George talking with the owner a young lady who seemed to have caught both pairs of eyes. He signaled for them. George saw it first and they quickly came over. They looked a bit surprise seeing Harry all alone.

"Wha happened?" asked Fred looking very disappointed as if the plan had gone sour. "She didn’t leave did she?"

"No she…" started Harry.

"Well she went off to powder her nose then," interrupted George. "Bloody girls you could never…OUCH!"

George looked down to see Hermione having jabbed him with her wand, "Quick you have to do something. Renoir and my boss are coming over. They can’t see me here!"

George looked a bit puzzled but picked up on the situation nevertheless. Fred joined his brother and developed a small on the spot plan. They nodded and Fred was off, blocking off the entrance to the alcove. Renoir was taken aback a bit as was Kain by the sudden obstacle in their path.

"Excuse me," said Renoir with certain disdain. "I know Harry Potter. He’s a close personal friend."

"Sorry sir," said Fred. "A lot of people say they know Harry Potter. But we really respect his privacy."

George was making a slight ruckus under the table.

"What are you doing?!" whispered Hermione.

"Just give me that hair pin!" demanded George.

"Harry," said Renoir smoothly. "You don’t mind if we join you do you?"

Harry could feel Renoir’s will being bent upon him. He waved off Fred who let him and Kain pass into the alcove. Harry got up and bowed, and Renoir laughed again asking it wasn’t necessary. Fred came by soon enough with two more chairs where Renoir and Kain seated themselves accordingly.

"Well Harry, I didn’t quite expect to see you here tonight," said Renoir with a slight bit of curiosity.

"Well you know me…full of unexpected surprises," said Harry nervously laughing.

"Yes…Oh I don’t think you’ve been introduced properly. Harry, this is Kain from the werewolf clan. Kain…this is Harry Potter," said Renoir proudly. He made sure Kain heard the last part clearly.

"It’s quite the…opportunity…meeting you Harry Potter," said Kain as he looked over Harry the exact same way he was sizing up Renoir that night in the broom closet. Harry shook his hand which was as tight as a vice.

"Harry I think I saw you with someone here tonight," inquired Renoir with even more curiosity.

"Oh yes…she’s just powd…."

"Dropped her fork," said George from the other side of the table giving Renoir and Kain a start. "Yes madam just had some trouble finding it under the table.

Hermione stood up facing away from the table. Her big bushy brown head of hair bobbing slightly and catching the eye of Renoir.

"Madam, have we ever met?" asked Renoir as he stood to take her hand to kiss it. "I normally don’t forget…a…….face."

Renoir paused mid bow. Hermione slowly turned around but she might as well not have. Her bushy brown hair had been pulled over her entire face, making her look like a giant fuzzy upside-down ice cream cone. She looked a bit awkward as she turned, using her other hand reaching for empty air. She struggled to maintain some semblance of grace as she let Renoir finish kissing her hand but any interest in her identity seemed to have disappeared if only for a while. Fred was trying to keep from bursting into laughter. Harry glared at George with a look that questioned the redhead’s very sanity and George just shrugged his shoulders as if saying that’s the best he could do. Renoir guided Hermione back down to her seat, this time sitting right between Renoir and Harry. She nearly fell off her chair. After a bit of stabilizing she was sitting straight again.

"I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced," said Renoir eyeing Harry.

"Oh! Renoir, Kain…this is my date…uh friend. Angelina Johnson," he said.

Kain rose from his seat and bowed. Hermione randomly nodded her head around the table making sure she didn’t miss anyone. Her hair bobbed like a giant balloon.

"That is quite the…interesting hairstyle you have Madam Johnson," said Renoir.

Hermione pretended she did not hear. Harry elbowed her in the rib.

"Oh yes…it’s all the rage in Bulgaria," said Hermione.

"Ah yes, I see," contemplated Renoir. "I’m afraid I’m not quite up to date with the latest styles. You could say that I haven’t aged well with the times."

Renoir smiled his fangy smile towards Kain who just glowered. He too was paying attention to Hermione, trying to remember where he saw her.

"I dare say, Harry…what brings you out so early in the evening? Are you trying to recruit this fine specimen into our country club?" asked Renoir.

"Er…yes. Master," replied Harry on the spot. "We’re going out later this evening."

"Excellent Harry," praised Renoir, clapping and smiling. "You’ve really progressed the past few months. I am impressed. I dare say, soon enough you’ll be having my job."

Renoir grinned at Kain who didn’t return anything but utter contempt for his boldness. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Here’s your soup sir and madam," said Fred as he bustled into the alcove with George.

"But we didn’t order," started Harry.

"Compliments of the chef," said George. "It comes highly recommended."

"Oh then I’ll order one as well," said Renoir.

Harry accepted the soup and placed Hermione’s serving in front of her. She grabbed a fork and tried to navigate the fork under her curtain of hair. Harry held out a spoon when Hermione realized her mistake which she took after a few failed attempts resulting in her grabbing thin air.

"Will you be eating that steak then Harry?" asked Renoir.

Harry offered it to Renoir who accepted it and began to eat it graciously. Kain on the other hand just reached over to Hermione’s portion and grabbed the steak, taking long strips off it with his teeth. They truly were as different as night and day. Hermione enjoyed her soup, well at least as much as she can, considering that each spoonful resulted in a portion of her hair accompanying it. Apparently it was too much and she actually coughed, shaking the hairpin that kept her hair all together in the front, right into the soup. Her hair parted showing a bit of her face. Renoir’s interest piqued again and Hermione froze as he began to raise a hand to part her hair further.

"Now, let’s see what beauty is being hidden behind this hair," said Renoir silkily.

Harry considered ways to prevent this from happening, all of them resulting in his and her's immediate death. Kain seemed to have paused in mid bit on the steak, also curious as to the identity of Hermione. Harry saw her grip her wand from under the table, but he stayed her arm. There was no need to escalate the situation until absolutely necessary. Just as Renoir was about to part the hair all the way a great shadow descended upon the table. A great crash and a bang later, Fred was splayed on to the table with George looking over Hermione. They had spilled soup all over Renoir.

"You clumsy oaf!" yelled Renoir as he tried wiping newt eyes off his shirt. Kain looked in complete amusement, the steak wagging from his mouth. Fred got up trying to help and apologized profusely but his hand was swatted away. George was busy helping up Hermione.

"Blasted eyes!" said Renoir as he continued to pat dry his shirt, he looked up towards Hermione who had a small spot of soup on her dress. "I’m quite sorry madam, it seems that the waiters here are…"

Renoir paused again. This time he was even more in shock than before. Even Kain stopped laughing only to stare at Hermione. Hermione’s hair was out of the way of her face. It was also out of the way of her black horn-rimmed glasses, her huge bulbous wart covered nose and a giant puffy red moustache. She looked a bit perplexed at the people staring at her. Harry felt a flood of panic wash into his head. Fred and George were giving winks from across the table.

Renoir looked away immediately after he saw that Hermione was looking right at him. He continued to dry himself nervously with a forced smile.

"I’m sorry madam, it was rude of me to stare," apologize Renoir. Kain on the other hand had his steak drop right into his lap. His mouth was agape, staring at Hermione’s face.

"Yes…I mean…," stuttered Hermione. "My family was cursed by a gypsy witch long ago. Everyone since then, my family had to bear this burden."

"Yes!" said Fred. "According to legend the oldest child gets the bulbous nose"

He gave Hermione a pinch on the nose in which she yelped in real pain.

"And the youngest child gets big red moustache!" continued George.

Renoir seemed to have accepted this explanation, but it was more due to avoid the unbearable sight of Hermione’s face than the reasons behind it.

"Why is it then that Ms. Johnson has both of these curses?" asked Kain.

Fred and George froze in their tracks. They never quite thought that far ahead. Harry, with his wand ready under the table, was sweating bullets. This is it; there was no way out of this time. At least he’ll die with friends at his side.

"It’s because I’m an only child," replied Hermione with a slight shudder in her voice.

Kain looked a bit taken aback. He resumed eating his steak. Renoir sat down after the table seemed to have been reset. Harry sighed a quiet breath of relief as he stood up.

"I’m sorry master, but we have to be going," said Harry with a small bow.

"Very good Harry," said Renoir with slight apprehension as he looked at Hermione again. He seemed to want to take back his suggestion of making her part of the vampire camp.

Harry and Hermione walked off very quickly but only stopped a few feet away from the alcove making sure that they were out of eyesight.

"What is this?" hissed Hermione, as the patrons stared at her. A few of them pushed away their plates, apparently they had lost their appetite.

"It’s a new product we’re testing," chuckled Fred.

"Percy Specs!" laughed George.

"Yeah, you put on the glasses and the nose and moustache actually become your real nose and a real moustache!" explained Fred between giggles.

Even Harry found some slight humour in this situation as Hermione tried to pull the glasses off.

"Why won’t these," struggled Hermione. "Blasted things come off?"

"Well we did say it we were still testing them," said George.

"Yeah…it’s taking them off that has been the problem," said Fred.

Hermione groaned. The Twins assured her that they could go back to the shop to take them off, but Hermione was considering putting her hair in front of her face again. Harry watching this amusing scene suddenly got an idea.

"Fred…George," said Harry. "Do you have any extendable ears on you?"

"Never leave home without them," said Fred as he brought out two.

Harry took out and thrusted another into Hermione’s hand. Slowly they crept up near the entrance of the alcove until they were barely out of sight of Renoir and Kain. Harry pointed at her to use the extendable ears on their conversation. The flesh coloured string wriggled along the floor, near the entrance and just like a telephone they could hear the conversation.

"… don’t care. You just have that ready next month," growled Renoir.

"Just make sure you are ready with the silver. We only have one shot at this," said Kain in a deadly voice. "If I get caught, I’m making sure you are coming with me."

"We won’t get caught," said Renoir reassuringly "By this time next month we’ll be lords of our empires, empires that will reach past the horizons of the world."

They heard Renoir laugh, which sent shivers down their ears.

"Now enough of this," said Renoir. "We’ve aroused enough suspicion. Even Potter sighting us here could compromise us. Let us use the back door to leave."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other wide eyed. Quickly they leapt up and ran back, grabbed the Twins with extendable ears in tow.

"Hey now, what’s with the rush?" questioned Fred.

"Yeah…did you find out anything?" said George.

"Not now…have to leave. Right now," said Harry forcefully.

They were feet away from the front door when suddenly they heard a blood curdling scream from the back of the restaurant. Like a wave the cries, that only a bagful of dungbombs could produce, began to wash over the restaurant. Clueless waiters asked patrons what was going on, or tried to calmly direct them to the exits, expecting that there was a fire of some sort. However when they too smelled the noxious gas, all pleasantries were abandoned and they joined the stampede for fresh air.

Harry, Hermione and the Twins were already outside watching the front doors burst full of patrons. The Pocket Storms had dissipated a bit, becoming a nice mild rain. This of course was very peculiar considering that it was in the middle of winter, which caused the streets of Diagon Alley to be a solid sheet of ice. As diners tried to catch their breath, a lot of them slipped and ended up sprawled on the cold road. It looked like a penguin party gone wrong.

Fred laughed but he was the only one. Harry and Hermione gave them a disapproving look, but it was more due to what they learned from the conversation. Fred however looked a bit more angry.

"What? It’s funny!" said Fred with a slightly puzzled but jovial look

"You know we can’t eat here anymore you git!" said Fred looking very disappointed. He looked up to the sign of the restaurant, even the magical moving picture of the sign was wretching from the smell. "I really loved their blood pudding. It was the best in town."

"Aw don’t worry. We’ll just lie low for a while," said Fred with a consoling pat on the back.

"But I really love their blood pudding," whined George.

Harry and Hermione were a bit preoccupied with their recent discovery.

"Harry this is big. Very big," said Hermione.

"That’s why I’ve been trying to tell you!" said Harry feeling a bit vindicated.

Hermione looked at Harry with apologetic eyes, "Oh Harry, you were right. I’m so sorry."

She leant forward to give him a kiss when Harry stopped her. She gave him a surprised look and asked what was wrong.

"Uh…your face," said Harry apprehensively.

Hermione raised her hand, and accidentally touched her wart covered nose. She was still wearing the Percy Specs.

"Oh…," said Hermione with a disappointed air.

"You better get out of here Harry," suggested Fred. "You’re boss is probably going to be coming out of there any second now."

"And we have to get Hermione back to the shop to get the Specs off," said George.

The Twins began to walk down the street as casual as possible and careful as possible because of the ice. Hermione looked torn in where to go, and with a small sigh she quickly went over to Harry and gave him a small peck on the cheek. Harry closed his eyes, trying to avoid the image of a moustached nose kissing him on the cheek. Regardless of his attempts to block the image out of his mind, it felt like an orange toothbrush was scrubbing his cheek clean.

"I’ll keep in touch Harry," said Hermione with a small smile. With a few steps she disappeared down the street trying to catch up with Fred and George.

Harry felt slightly relieved as he watched Hermione disappear into the dark. She believed him again and now he had an important ally. An ally in what, he does not know, but the creeping feeling of adventure stir in his stomach again. As much as he disliked his fame and the trouble usually associated with it, he never felt so alive in such a long time.

A great argument erupted in front of the restaurant, which was quickly silenced as Kain told Renoir to not attract any attention. Harry snapped out of his euphoria, and realizing the severity of the situation he jumped, landing on the roof of a nearby shop just as Renoir started to scan the streets to see if anyone he knew was in the area. It was a close call, as Harry looked down. Renoir looked more disheveled than Harry has ever seen him. He smiled, reflecting on how well a disastrous night could end and with a crack Harry disapparated from the roof.