Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: All Roads Lead Back

Keywords: Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco and the rest of the gang. Primarily H/Hr, but a whole lot of ships that just might piss some people off. Post-HBP.

Summary: Harry Potter always figured that once he had fulfilled his destiny he could finally have a happy, normal life. Unfortunately for him he fell in love with his best friend...and everything went straight to hell. A very gradual, slow moving H/Hr love story told thru multiple canon character perspective. Set 7 years after the final battle.

Spoilers: All six books.

A/N: I am so sorry for how late this chapter is. I never wanted it to take this long to get it out. I took an honest to goodness break from the computer, came back after a week or so, got to about the last five pages typed and BOOM ...lost almost every thing. This one version is completely from memory because (like a dumbass) I threw away my hand written notes or save the chapter to a disk. This chapter isn't what I would like it to be, but I hope you guys can find something to like in it anyways. You might think that this is the longest piece of fluff ever written and if you do, cool. If you find more to it, that's always cool too. :)

Thanks to Padfoot and murphsmine for their help and insight I couldn't do it without them!!

As always, thank you for all of the encouraging, thoughtful, funny, and even critical reviews. I really do take them all to heart.

Warning: Lucky, lucky. No warnings needed for this one. It's a long one, but it's also a Harry and Hermione free for all. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: If it looks like it's JKR's, well, that's because it is. She's provided me with the canvas and I'm truly enjoying painting on it.

Tuesday, 05/31/05

"So then she makes her eyes all big like this," Ron said as he gave his best impersonation of Hermione's sometime wide eyed look, "and goes, 'Oh Harry, we have to tell her, we have to tell her.'"

Ron had Glinda, Fred, George, Charlie, and Hermione in stitches. For the last half hour or so he had been plying them all with tales of the Trio's formative years at Hogwarts, mainly for the benefit of Charlie and Glinda. As Ron went into his over exaggerated impression of the embarrassed yet amused woman sitting on the couch all five of them laughed uproariously. It was a pretty good copy. Judging by Hermione's ringing laughter, she thought so as well. Harry however barely glanced at Ron. His field of vision was too occupied by the sight of ten little toes with nails the color of candy floss. Merlin what they must taste like, he wondered. The two tanned limbs that they were attached to weren't bad at all in his estimation either. Poor Ron! He could have very well been Professor Binns, with the amount of attention that Harry was giving him.

"Not a tear in her eyes mind you, but that old bag Umbridge hardly seemed to notice."

"Hermione, I'm shocked," scolded Glinda from her seat next to the brunette. "Pulling the poor helpless female routine?" Despite the words she was giggling madly.

"Well, what else was I supposed to do?" Hermione asked, trying to hold back her own laughter. "That ghastly woman was about to Crucio Harry. I couldn't allow that to happen!"

"No she couldn't," continued Ron as everyone's attention shifted back to him. He was still standing as he finished his story. "So what she does is make up this cock and bull story about Dumbledore having some secret weapon in the forest and the toad faced hag actually falls for it!"

Although Fred and George had heard this story dozens of times they still laughed the hardest, especially at any insulting word against their one time Headmistress. If anyone had hated Delores Jane Umbridge as much as Harry it was the twins.

"I knew from the moment I laid eyes on Um-bitch that she was as stupid as she was ugly," George said with a snigger. He was stretched out on the floor next to the big squashy leather recliner that Charlie was seated in. Lizzie was obediently lying down next to him. He had been feeding her bits of food and the two of them had become friends for life.

"Cor! That sure is a lot of stupid in' it?" Fred joked. He was sitting on the arm of the couch next to his wife. A poor lonely love seat was positioned to the left of all of them.

As Ron fell back on to the couch on the other side of Hermione he looked as if he was still too tickled over the story he was recounting.

"Fred, you've never spoken truer words," Ron said as he chuckled. "Unfortunately I didn't get to witness the centaurs carry her off, but I'm sure it was brilliant," he said as he looked down at Harry who was on the floor near Hermione. Harry however missed what Ron said because he was too busy being distracted by her bare legs that were dangling enticingly beside him.

Oh look, she just uncrossed them again.

"Well Harry, wasn't it brilliant?"

"Oh y-yes," stammered Harry quickly as he turned his attention towards Ron. "Quite brilliant," he added with a nervous smile. He prayed that no one could tell that he didn't have a clue what he was agreeing with.

The small party of seven was all seated in the newly refurnished living room of the Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow. Half eaten bowls of melting ice cream were littered on the floor and the coffee table as well as empty take-away cartons and bottles of butterbeer. The mood was cheerful and merry as they celebrated Hermione moving into her new home.

Every time Harry thought those words to himself he couldn't help the giddy little smile that settled on his lips.

When the idea to bring Hermione to Godric's Hollow and have her live in his family's cottage came to Harry it seemed truly inspired. She needed a place to stay and he had an empty house that was begging to be filled. What better place for Hermione to live? She loved the old house as much, maybe even more then he did if he remembered correctly. When Harry first apparated them over to the house Hermione's eyes had been closed. It was almost as if she had known somehow where Harry was taking her and wanted to hold off the big moment of reveal to savor it. Then again she probably hadn't apparated in years and the sensation of being transported side-along made her dizzy and she was just trying to get her bearing. Still, Harry preferred the first explanation better. Especially when he saw the awe-struck look of wonderment and joy that was on Hermione's face. Harry felt breathless whenever he saw this look.

Since the house was way at the edge of town and the villagers still thought the place was haunted he wasted no time pulling out his wand and saying the incantation that would break the snow globe over the house. Once that was done he slipped the wand back in its holster and looked at her. As she turned to face him, tears of happiness glistening in her eyes, she worked her mouth open and closed but no words came out. Harry tried to tell her that it was alright, that she didn't have to say anything, but before he could get those words passed his lips 135 lbs of soft, trembling, wonderfully fragrant flesh threw its self into his arms. Her arms latched around his neck to pull him into a hug. His arms found themselves wrapped around her waist tugging her close. And dear Merlin, did it feel good! This by itself would have been amazing, but coupled with the dizzying feel of her breasts pressed firmly into his chest tantalizingly moving up...and then down as she bounced in excitement all thought quickly left his brain.

Before he knew what was what he had bent down and had her cradled in his arms. She could say nothing to halt or hinder him because her mouth was too busy being suckled, massaged, and nibbled on by his own. Any doubt that she didn't want this too was squelched once her tongue hesitantly flickered against his lips. Taking this as a good sign his tongue sought hers and swirled and danced with it. Someone moaned and he wasn't too sure that it wasn't him, but Hermione didn't seem to care. Using the arm that she still had around his neck she placed her hand on the back of his head, threaded her fingers in his hair and roughly held his head in place. As if he needed the encouragement. Ha! Her other hand then began to gently caress his cheek and that tender action was all that was needed to give him the impetus to swiftly make his way over the threshold of the door, cross quickly to the foot of the stairs and, taking two steps at a time, make his way up. Without breaking his stride he turned towards the nearest bedroom, the room that used to be his. He had long ago placed all of the old house furniture in the basement so there was nothing in the room but the bluish gray plush carpeting. But that should be enough, he assured himself. He was just about to lower himself and Hermione onto the floor when she breathlessly pulled her lips away from his, looked desirously into his eyes and said the words he longed to hear from her.

"Harry...need...air..."

Well, not exactly the words he had been longing to hear.

"Harry," she said again. "Don't you think this hug has gone on long enough? I kind of miss breathing."

Harry took a step back and shockingly realized that he was standing outside of the cottage. Hermione was in his arms but only wrapped in a friendly hug and not in the passionate embrace that he had been imagining. He instantly understood that what he had just experienced had only been some fucked up delusion worked up to obviously drive him insane!!! As he slowly loosened his hold on her Harry had to wonder just what the hell he was thinking. It was almost as if he tried to make one of his crazed dreams come true. What happened to all his good sense?

It went straight out the window once you thought about shagging her on the shag rug, said the little voice coming from his head. Sadly it wasn't the one attached to his neck.

Shut it you! Hermione would probably sock me for thinking such things.

You never know unless you try, it answered back. Such a helpful little fiend it was.

And then what do we tell the missus later?

Bugger! I Forgot about her.

Exactly.

If Harry wasn't already in such an anxious state he would have realized that he had now graduated from conversations with abstract beings to having chats with his own dick.

"Sorry Hermione," he said with chagrin as his arms dropped to his side.

She skittishly smiled back at him. "Quite alright. I guess we both just got caught up in the moment."

Harry wished fervently then that he had still had his Auror robes on. Surely they would have hid the fact that he was sporting a rather impressive semi. Maybe she won't have noticed, he fervidly hoped. That wish was dashed as soon as he saw Hermione's saucer like eyes glance down at the tented material of his slacks and quickly look away.

"Let's go inside," she said, voice slightly higher then normal. She walked quickly towards the house, as if to hide her crimson cheeks from him.

Sorry, said the little criminal in his pants.

Duly fucking noted, he disgustedly thought to himself.

That brief moment of embarrassment was glossed over once he and Hermione stepped into the house. As soon as she got inside she started running around the place like a kid on Christmas day. She didn't even care that the place was empty. She sprinted up the stairs and back down. She twirled around the wide living room to the point that she collapsed drunk-like onto the floor. This only made her laugh and Harry laughed right along as he helped her back up. She then headed towards the patio, practically yanking the sliding glass door off its tracks and made a bee-line for the tree. The tree swing was still there and this seemed to please Hermione greatly. She daintily seated herself on it and using her own feet to give herself the momentum she needed, pushed from the ground and began to lazily swing back and forth. As Harry watched her big glowing smile that grew larger by the second, he felt some of the tenseness that he had been struggling with from the moment he had been left alone in her presence slacken. It was a welcome change. With all of the conflicting emotions inside of his head it was starting to sound like a cacophony in there.

First there was the undeniable chemical reaction his body seemed to have whenever Hermione looked at him, smiled at him, or even touched his hand. What to call it? Was it lust? Desire? Need? That morning, when she had cheerfully greeted him while walking down the Burrows stairs dressed in a simple, yet very nicely fitting jog suit all he had wanted to do was take her hand, walk her right back up those steps, and convince her that she would feel so much better if she took the suit off. He knew he would feel much better. It would definitely give her something to smile about. Harry loved sex just as much as the next warm blooded male of his species, but there was just something about this woman that turned him into some kind of lust crazed maniac. Randy? It was more like he was ravenous for her. Forget having a monster in his chest, the one in his pants seemed to now be working independently from the rest of him these days. Was it any wonder he had chosen to block out these feelings for her all those years ago? If he hadn't how would he have ever passed Transfiguration back then? Or Potions for that matter. He would have spent every waking hour he could trying to figure out how to get around the damned enchantment that turned the stairway to the girls dorms into an indoor slip and slide just to get at her. That wouldn't have been very conducive to his studies now would it?

These thoughts were usually followed closely by shame. If what he harbored for Hermione was some sweet, innocent, "never meant to be" kind of love, Harry was sure he would have been able to handle that. Probably. Maybe. After all wasn't that basically what he had unwittingly endured all these years in the first place? He had always loved Hermione for the person who she was; her giving nature, her fierce mama bear tendencies, her stubbornness to usually look for the good in others as well as a million plus one other amazing qualities that she possessed. But now all of that coupled with the acute awareness that he also wanted her made him feel guilty over his failure to control his raging libido. It was one thing to deal with a dream Hermione (Merlin, how many ways had he dealt with the dream Hermione in the last few months). But it was a completely different matter to have these desires running through him now that the flesh and blood version was here. Harry was pretty sure that she wouldn't appreciate all of the things they had been doing together, so to speak, in his head. She would probably be disgusted and worse, disappointed in him.

The guilt was however being drowned out by a stronger emotion. Grief. Grief for what could never be. Through the dreams he had gotten just a taste of what being with Hermione could have been like. But that was just it, they weren't real. It was never going to happen. Hermione didn't see him that way. Had never seen him that way. Would never see him that way. If Harry thought there was a chance other wise...who knows what he would have done. But Harry knew that trying to hold on to that kind of pipe dream was useless. In fact, if Harry's worse fears were true, Hermione was probably still in love with her best friend. The one with the red hair. Oh, there was also that sticky little matter he called his marriage to consider also.

The emotion that outweighed them all was fear though. Now that Hermione was home, he had to make sure she stayed here. He couldn't allow her to leave again. He wasn't sure he could stand it if she did, either by her own will or by that of some outside menace. The information she had told him about Carrows was distressing enough and as soon as he got the chance Harry planned to use all the pull in the Department he had to see if Amycus could be tracked down and put away for good. If they could never prove that he had something to do with the Grangers' deaths he would still have to answer for all of his years in service to Riddle. No matter what Harry would never allow Carrows to ever hurt Hermione again. But truthfully it was a different madman that was Harry's main concern. There was a picture of a dead girl, still sitting on his desk at the Ministry that just couldn't be ignored.

And what of Mrs. Potter? Oh, Harry was quite disgusted with himself as well. None of this was fair to Ginny. She was his wife, he had pledged a vow to her. He had promised her forever. Of course he was stupid enough to do all of this without the benefit of actually loving her, which still didn't mean that he could just toss her to the side as though she were rubbish? He couldn't cast her off like she was some albatross around his neck?

Could he?

Of course not. There was nothing he could do to put an end to his marriage.

Was there?

Of course there wasn't. There was no way to overturn the Rites. None.

But Merlin help him, Harry could no more stop how he felt for Hermione then he could make the tides turn direction. Actually he probably had a better chance at the latter. So where did all of this leave him?

Nowhere.

As Hermione went back and forth in the swing all of these crazy, jumbled, mixed-up thoughts that plagued him thankfully tapered down to a dull roar. He simply became just another love sick fool with a goofy grin on his face watching a pretty girl...no...an attractive woman gliding through the air. It was a perfectly innocent picture. Sweet even. He just wondered what it would look like if she was wearing a skirt instead. It was with that thought that he excused himself to the bathroom. If you wanted to be technical about it he ran like the dickens for the downstairs loo as Hermione's concerned voice called after him.

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

Early the next morning Harry stopped by Ron's to fill him in on Hermione's new living arrangements. She had been so excited about living in the Hollow that she wanted to move in that very night. The two of them went straight to the Burrow, after collecting her vehicle, so she could get her trunk and dog. He suggested just letting Molly pack up her trunk for her and send it later, but she seemed pretty adamant that no one touch her things. Although Harry found that odd he let it go for the time being. When they got back to the Hollow Harry immediately set about putting up several protective wards around the house. He put up restrictions for Polyjuice, burglary, and apparition among others. He also put up a ward that prevented anyone who intended harm to Hermione from getting within 10 feet of the place. Such a spell was only used to protect witnesses who testified in high priority cases brought before the Wizengamot, but Harry didn't bother telling Hermione that. She would probably yell at him for treating her like a fragile child. Truth be told if Harry could have put her under the Fidelius he would have, he was determined to make sure that she was safe all the way out here by herself, but he knew that would never fly with her. So he did the next best thing, he asked her if it was alright for him to be her fail safe, for emergency purposes of course he strongly reminded himself. He alone would be able to bypass the wards. She told him that she just assumed that such would naturally be the case. Who else did she trust as much as she trusted him? she asked. Harry felt as though he were walking on air after that statement.

Harry came by to see if Ron would help him get Hermione's old furniture out of the basement. When Hermione took off she originally left all of her parents old furniture behind. Since she was such an over achiever her rent was already paid up for the next month so they remained there. Once that ran out Harry, sure that she would come back any day, continued to pay the monthly fee. He wanted to make sure she was able to pick right back up where she left off when she returned. It took a year for everyone to convince him that all of this was for naught. Harry still couldn't bare the idea of anything happening to her beloved possessions so one afternoon he and Ron spent the day shrinking the furniture and other knick knacks and putting them away in boxes. Harry then stored the boxes away in the cottage's basement where they remained, untouched, for years. When Harry informed Hermione of all of this she was so moved that she thankfully forgot the awkwardness from earlier and gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. It took all of Harry's will not to turn his head. Instead he decided to put all of his 'energy' to good use and set up her bed and other things in the master bedroom. Once that was done they both collapsed on the mahogany bed, side by side, and chatted away about nothing and everything for hours. After they ran out of words they still remained next to each other, content to just be in the other's presence. Harry would have been perfectly fine remaining where he was forever if she hadn't yawned and suggested that they call it a night since it was nearing three in the morning. She was tired and wanted to spend some quality time in the house alone. Besides he had a wife to go home to, she reminded him.

At first Ron seemed to be in a daze as Harry told him everything. It was nine in the morning and the redhead had just rolled out of bed to answer the door. Harry hardly noticed the time, he had already been up for hours. He had gone to work early to handle some matters with the Cadmus case, make some inquiries about Carrows, and to see about hooking up the fireplace in the cottage to the floo Network so Hermione could floo back and forth between her place, the Burrow, Fred and Glinda's, or any place else she wanted to go. He also took it upon himself to put a restriction on who could floo into the house; only Ron and Glinda for now. Although he was sure Hermione would probably be a little peeved by his boldness he told himself that he was simply doing it for her safety.

Once he had about two large cups of coffee a toothy grin spread on Ron's face. The caffeine was starting to kick in and Harry could tell that his best mate thought that both Hermione's new place of residence and the suggestion of stopping in were smashing ideas. Just the day before Ron and the majority of the Wasps had managed to convince their crazed captain that if he didn't lay off all of the special training they all would be useless by time it came to face Appleby for the Cup. This put the fear of Merlin into Talbot so bad that he forbid them all to even go near their brooms for at least three days and to get some much needed relaxation. In Ron's opinion spending the day with Harry and Hermione, two of his favorite people in the world, was just what the Healer ordered. Harry also looked forward to spending quality time with his two best friends, but if he was being honest, he did have a few ulterior motives behind the visit. Mainly he wanted to be near Hermione as much as he could, but the problem was that Harry simply didn't trust himself alone with her. He might foolishly stare at her like a puppy or spend too long sniffing her. Just what was that new smell that clung to her, he wondered. It was nice. Different. But nice. He might even get so wrapped up in one of his little fantasies that he would forget himself again and...who knows...ravish her or something. How does one 'ravish' someone anyway, Harry absentmindedly wondered. No matter, he could not allow this to happen. So he needed Ron to act as a buffer between Hermione and himself. Plus there were those suspicions that Harry had, a few unsavory misgivings on what truly brought Hermione back home only a few weeks before the wedding of one Ronald Weasley. Harry wanted to see the two of them interact with one another. He needed to see if any of that sexual tension that he used to hear so much about, but truthfully never noticed or cared to, still simmered between the two ex-lovers. Why? Because Harry Potter is a masochistic son of a bitch, he sullenly told himself.

Once Ron showered and dressed they were both about to apparate to the village when George suddenly came home early from the shop. He left the WWW in care of the store manager so he could go over to Hogsmeade and spend the day with his other half. Fred, who took the day off from his own store as well, was staying home with Glinda and Charlie. George had originally planned to go over to his twin's house to have breakfast and had come home to see if Ron wanted to join him, but when he heard where Harry and his brother were going he wanted to tag along. Harry tried to make it sound very dull and boring so George wouldn't come. Harry had already suggested throwing a Welcome Home party or get together for her, but Hermione strongly declined. She wanted some privacy for a while, she told him. That answer actually relieved Harry. The less attention Hermione's homecoming garnered the better, he believed. Harry tried his best to explain to George that Hermione wasn't up to seeing too many visitors. Ron chose to convey the situation succinctly to his brother.

"No gits allowed."

Harry rolled his eyes towards the havens at the remark. Ron might as well have rolled out the Welcome mat for George Weasley.

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

It was somewhere between the fourth and fifth time he knocked urgently on the door and didn't get a response that Harry nearly went into a blind panic. When he knocked a sixth time and still received no answer Harry apparated directly into the house frantically calling Hermione's name. He was so distressed that he ended up on the bottom of the stairs instead of the foyer as he planned and ran smack dab into Hermione running down to see what the commotion was. They collided with one another and both went tumbling to the floor, Hermione on top of him.

His body immediately reacted to the feel of her pressed up against just about all of the places a bloke liked to be pressed up against. She was wearing the barest scrap of some silky turquoise material that sent all of his blood rushing in a downward direction. In some circles the tiny article of clothing might have even be considered a dressing gown. It did cover up the most important, vital places. Drat! But Harry had seen just enough of golden colored thighs, arms, and the barest sliver of breast to almost send him into a tail spin. Hermione scrambled off of him and plopped herself on the bottom step of the stairs, using a hand to pull the top of her dressing gown closed. As Harry sat up from the floor he could only thank the stars that this time he was mercifully wearing his work robes.

Oh yes, because when she was just straddling you she didn't feel a thing right, he could practically hear his little Harry tell him.

Wait 'til I get my hands on you, he thought crossly.

Flirt!

Hermione eyes went wide with shock. It was an almost comical expression and Harry would have laughed at it if he hadn't realized just what caused her to jump off of him. The bugger in his pants had obviously been right. Harry ashamedly tried to apologize to her when a wild and crazy idea suddenly struck him. She almost seemed to be as affected...hell, aroused by this little scene as much as he was. Her pink cheeks, rattled countenance, and shallow breathing seemed to attest to this fact. And Harry couldn't be sure, but he almost thought he saw the faint impression of her nipples through the flimsy material of her dressing gown. It was almost as if they beckoned him and Harry couldn't stop himself from answering the call.

Harry slowly stood up from the floor and crossed the short distance that separated the two of them. There was no thought in his action, it was simply as though some magnetic force was drawing him to her. As he stopped before her, his eyes never leaving her own, Harry wasn't sure what he was about to do. He wasn't even certain if this was actually happening, but as his right hand tentatively left his side he just knew he had to touch her. Somewhere. Everywhere. Or die. And the fact that she looked as though she were making no move to stop him only spurred him on. His tips of his fingers had barely touched the surface of her cheek when a loud pounding noise startled them and they both turned in the direction the noise was coming from.

"Are you guys alright in there?" came the muffled sound of Ron's voice through the front door. He pounded again. "I heard a noise. Is everything ok?" he asked worriedly.

Who the hell invited Ron?!

The sound of Ron's voice produced an quick intake of breath from Hermione. This caused Harry to look back towards her and see a befuddled and panicked expression cross her face as she looked between the door and him. Before Harry could say a word Hermione sprung up and ran up the stairs. That's when Harry cursed himself. He was a married man who almost made an inappropriate pass at his childhood friend. She hadn't been turned on just then, she had obviously been shocked at his forwardness. That was the only way to explain it. Now she was probably trying to get as far as she could from him. Hermione was barely settled back home and already, in the space of two days, her best mate who was supposed to be happily married had practically jumped her. She must think the worse of me, a gloomy voice said in his head; the one up top this time.

When Hermione finally came back downstairs Harry's worries were confirmed. Her face was pinched and she looked harassed. She had changed into a pair of lounge shorts and a bulky orange sweatshirt that had the picture of a cow in gray silhouette. Under the picture, written in block letters was the words 'Longhorns Do It Better'. Her face looked freshly scrubbed and he noticed that it was devoid of all of the goop she seemed to be so fond of putting on it these days. He liked this version better. She looked more like the girl he had fallen in love with. The hair was still highly distracting however, but since it was pulled away from her face in a no frills ponytail he didn't focus too long on it. Lizzie had come running down the stairs behind Hermione and headed straight towards him. Harry bent down to pet the dog and let her playfully lick at his face. He tried to use the poor thing as a shield to protect himself from Hermione's ire, but when he took a peek from behind the animal he found that Hermione wasn't even looking at him. She kept her eyes on Ron as she told them that she didn't feel much like company. She had just come in from an early morning run through the village and when the two of them showed up she was just getting out of the bathtub. She had hoped to spend the day alone. To his dismay she didn't even spare him a glance as she said all of this. It looked like Hermione was trying to very politely, yet firmly kick them out of the house and Harry couldn't help but think that he was the reason why. When she headed towards the front door and opened it the three of them were not prepared to see the grinning faces of Mr. And Mrs. Fred Weasley as well as George and Charlie standing on the other side, arms filled with packages.

Their appearance only seemed to heighten Hermione's irritation, but before she could slam the door on her guests faces (and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that she was close to doing it) Glinda decided to play her trump card. When George mentioned that Harry, Hermione, and Ron were all goofing off at the Hollow and suggested that they go crash the party Glinda knew that it would take some pretty big guns to get them through the door. Remembering Hermione's love of the Chinese restaurant around the corner from the old flat in Brixton, she made sure that their little group stopped in at Mister Chopsticks and picked up some vital bargaining chips; spring rolls, shrimp dumplings, lo mein and just about all of Hermione's favorites. They even stopped at a grocers to get a few cases of Neapolitan ice cream to scoop up with the fortune cookies, a long held tradition in the former Granger/Vengadasalam household. When Glinda told Hermione what was in the bags she grudgingly let them in the door.

After about ten minutes the tense air that hung about the house dissipated and the day turned into a fun gathering of good food, friends, and memories. First the guys set up the rest of Hermione's furniture. She and Glinda directed them from the couch while sampling all of the food. Ron let them know that if there were no potstickers left when the men got done with the grunt work that there surely would be hell to pay. After that was taken care of everyone settled down in the lounge and began passing back and forth various take-away cartons as they all ate a little bit of every dish and laughed and gossiped about everything under the sun.

George filled them all in on why Charlie had decided to spend the night at Fred's the night before. When George stopped in to have dinner at the Burrow he discovered his big brother laid out on the couch asleep looking like a five knut Knockturn Alley whore. It turned out that Violet and Rosemary had "borrowed" some of their Aunt Hermione's make-up from her room and decided to make their uncle look pretty. Charlie took the ribbing from everyone in stride and told Hermione as she tried to apologize through tears and laughter that there was no need to. George let them all know that as soon as he got the pictures he took developed he would let them all have copies. Ron told him to make sure he got him wallet sized ones. Charlie told them all that he preferred the calm and quiet of a dragon preserve to a household filled with five kids and he was going to stay with Fred since he and Glinda only had one little one.

Glinda shared some of her horror stories she experienced with her little one man company. She ran a muggle match making service where she set up young London singles on lunch dates all from the comfort of her home. Of course the use of two desk top computers, a laptop, a PDA, a Blackberry and two separate mobile phones also helped lighten the load. Their Hogsmeade home had so much electronic gadgetry in it that Fred hardly was allowed to use magic in it. Too much magical energy caused the muggle technology to go haywire. When Felicity's accidental magic started to increase they had to start sending her to the Hogsmeade Little School in town to help keep Glinda's business from exploding, literally. For six years she practically ran the company as a lark, what better way to be in everybody's business? But the last three years of success and financial solvency had been a nice surprise. She was even starting to look at the prospects of crossing over and working with witches and wizards. Her only mistake was that she accidentally made mention of these plans in front of Pansy McLaggen one night at a social gathering. The blonde harridan got it into her head that she would make an excellent partner in the venture, even if Glinda was (regrettably) a muggle. Pansy hadn't left Glinda alone since.

Ron gabbed on about the upcoming British Cup, Fred and George entertained them with tales about the stores, and Charlie told them some amusing antidotes about his time in Sweden. When most of them tried to fish stories out of Hermione about her years in Texas she looked uncomfortable, but ended up telling them funny stories involving her former flat mates Amelia Calhoun and Benitez Cohen as well as the daycare center where the three of them worked together. The talk of kids led Fred and Ron to bragging about their beautiful daughters. This time it was Harry's turn to get cagey as once again his family wondered just when he and Ginny were going to start popping out babies. Mercifully Hermione told them that Harry would have kids when he was good and ready and to just leave him alone. He wanted to kiss her for the comment, but then remembered that he was in a room with four of his six brother-in-laws and decided that it probably wouldn't be a good idea. Harry then expertly switched the subject to their former years at Hogwarts.

It was as if they had all found a Time Turner and stepped back through time. The series of memories that they began to share were so palpable that Harry felt as though he could almost hold them tightly in his arms. The Weasley twins nearly flooding the castle, Bill almost loosing his Head Boy badge and Charlie almost getting thrown off the House team when the two of them and Tonks threw a wild party in the Forbidden forest, the Trio's experiences with the little baby dragon Norbert; although all of these stories had been told and told again through out the years they still seemed fresh and still made all of them laugh. Glinda also loved to hear about all of their old adventures. When Glinda first discovered Hermione's little secret it always amazed Harry how well she took the news. Hermione later told him that one of Glinda's favorite books as a child was all about good and bad wizards, elves, magical rings, and dark overlords. The woman was simply ecstatic to grow-up and find out that magic really did exist in the world. Glinda also off-handedly mentioned once that she used to belong to some club called the D&D where she was a Dungeon Master in her wild and misspent teen years. Since it sounded kind of kinky Harry chose not to press further.

It was a lovely day. The only sore spot for Harry was that he couldn't help the feeling that Hermione was purposefully ignoring him. Of course no one else would have thought that such was the case, she talked to him easily and answered his questions as well as asked him some of her own. However Harry felt that she seemed distant. When they first all sat down to eat she didn't save him the other place on the couch next to her. Instead she grinned gaily at Ron when he plopped down where Harry felt he should have been sitting, the git! Of course this did afford Harry the prime spot to look at her legs to his heart's content and not be caught at it, still the whole thing rankled him. Then there was the fact that she would hardly look him in the eyes, but every now and then he would catch her staring at him. She would always turn her head quickly and act as if she had been listening to Ron or the twins and found whatever they were saying particularly funny, but Harry knew that she had been looking at him beforehand. He figured that she was probably still put off by the run in they had earlier. Either that or she was still annoyed that he and Ron had intruded on her day of rest. But that hasn't stopped her from laughing at every word that's come out of Ron's mouth, he grumpily thought. In fact she had nearly laughed herself into a stupor when Ron began to tell them all about the time that he and Hermione were snogging away in a broom closet near the Infirmary when they were supposed to be at an Order meeting. Peeves caught them at it and was on his way to rat them out when Hermione and Ron offered to get the Bloody Baron off his back for him if he didn't say a peep. Hermione thought that appealing to the Baron's intellectual senses was the best route to go. She tried to have a meaningful conversations with the blood stained ghost about the castle's rich history and offered to read to him from her many books if he liked. The Baron merely looked at her grimly. When it was obvious that her tactics weren't working Ron introduced the terrifying ghost to the wonders of wizarding porn magazines. The Baron forgot all about Peeves and Ron and Hermione were safe to snog in any broom closet of their choosing from then on.

As Ron told them all of this and the rest of the group laughed Harry had to actually sit on his wand hand, the need to hex Ron was just that strong. Harry felt nearly nauseous with jealousy and the worst part was that instead of smacking Ron, or at least berating him for telling the story, Hermione only smiled brighter at her ex-boyfriend and girlishly giggled as he tickled her on her side and she poked back at him. And she still won't look at me in the eye, a sad little voice in Harry's head sighed. Harry almost wanted to run from the room and hide his face, but then Hermione did something miraculous that nearly made his heart dance inside his chest. She reached into one of the bags nearest her, pulled out a fortune cookie, and absentmindedly cracked it open in her hand. She then removed the little paper, tore up the printed words in tiny pieces, and gave the two broken halves of the cookie to Harry. It was a routine they had developed long ago. Whenever they would go to a Chinese restaurant or get take-away Hermione would remove the fortunes from the fortune cookies for him. Although he loved the little crunchy cookies themselves any talk of future telling reminded him of being told over and over again that he was going to die in Trelawney's class or brought up unpleasant reminders that his whole life had been dictated by a prophesy. As usual, being sensitive to his needs, Hermione would get rid of the offending strip of paper before he could even look at it. Their friends all thought it was just another one of those weird Harry and Hermione things, but after awhile hardly noticed it anymore. When she left he no longer wanted anyone to break open his fortune cookie for him, not even Ginny. In truth he had almost forgotten that Hermione used to do this, but as soon as she placed the shells in his palm he was so over come that he he clasped her hand in his own and held onto it. Although that panicked look flickered in her eyes for a moment when it faded away she smiled down at him tenderly before she removing her hand from his. Harry hoped that no one looked too closely at him because if they did they couldn't help but notice his flushed cheeks and gleeful little smile. Ron could keep his closet snogs, Harry had his own precious memories of Hermione too! Although he had to concede that a closet snog would be nice.

Once the fortune cookies started being handed out Hermione got up to get the ice cream out of the freezer. After she was gone for a good length of time Harry went towards the kitchen to see what was taking so long. When he discovered that she wasn't in the kitchen he opened the patio door to see if she was outside. Not finding her there he headed back out to the staircase to see if she had gone upstairs. He was about to head up when he heard a curious sound coming from the bathroom in the little area near the stairs. It almost sounded like Hermione was arguing with someone, but Harry couldn't detect a second voice in there with her. Although Harry knew he shouldn't, he was actually surprised that she hadn't knocked him silly for reading her mind the other day, he still pulled his wand out of his robes and cast a charm on the door so he could hear what was being said.

"I don't care how you got this number! You're not allowed to call me again, am I making myself clear," he heard Hermione's agitated voice yell. It was almost reminiscent of the way she would talk to him and Ron when they were being particularly thickheaded about something. But Harry also detected a pleading note to her voice.

"Don't call me again. Never! Just leave me be!"

Whoa! What was this all about, Harry wondered. Who was she talking to?

"Loose my phone number. Pretend you never never knew it. Are we understood?!"

And then there was silence. Harry pressed himself closer in hopes to hear better. But all of a sudden the knob was being turned, the door was yanked open, and before him stood Hermione. She had her mobile in her hand. She obviously hadn't been prepared to see him standing there because she jumped back at the sight of him.

"H-Harry," she barely choked out, "Um...did you need to use the loo?"

He answered the question the only way he knew how. "Er...yes!"

"Oh." She tried to nonchalantly hide the phone behind her back but Harry noticed.

For a few moments neither of them said anything, just stared at each other. The air between them however felt thick with a myriad of unsaid words and actions. As though both of them were waiting, almost impatiently, to see what the other one would do, who would make the first move. It was a feeling almost akin to holding your hand over a flame and seeing how close you could get your fingers to it before scorching yourself. And then doing it again. It felt reckless. It felt tempestuous. It felt willful, as though possessing a mind of its own and Merlin help him Harry loved it! In fact he could almost see himself giving into it, pulling her into the bathroom with him, and closing the door just so he could see what her response would be. The way she was looking at him from beneath heavy lids made him wonder if she felt the same taught energy that was longing to be unleashed. Instead of giving into the temptation though he tried his best to push past it. He also was curious about the yelling.

"Is everything alright Hermione?"

"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Oh, no reason."

He didn't want her to know that he had been listening at the door a few minutes ago. He feared that she would think he was either a prat for being so nosy or a perv. Probably both. She probably just got another one of those wrong number calls again he figured. If something was really wrong he felt certain that she would tell him now, especially after they had cleared the air the day before. Having gotten that out the way he smiled shyly at her and she blushed prettily as she returned his smile with a timid one of her own and cast her eyes to the floor. But when she glanced back up at him and their eyes met that mind drugging tension soon settled in again. It practically begged to be released. Harry's eyes even drifted from Hermione's face to the door behind her again as he wondered...

"The bathroom..." she mumbled in a thick voice

Harry quickly shifted his eyes towards her again. "Huh?"

"Didn't you need to use the bathroom?"

Dammit! His desire for this woman was obviously making him loose his mind.

"Um, yes. Bathroom."

"You could have used any of the ones upstairs, you know."

"I didn't want to be rude."

"Silly," she playfully chided him. "This is your house. Everything in it is at your disposal."

Harry had to stop his mind from going to a very bad place at these words. Well actually it was a nice place, but still...

"....since I'm all done in here you can use this one. Too bad though, you just missed your opportunity to rifle through my knickers," she said tartly with a naughty smile. And then, as though realizing what she said, her face blanched.

Harry's eyes widened at the quip. Did she...did Hermione just flirt with me? As Harry watched Hermione's teasing smile suddenly falter and he heard her squeak out an apology as she rushed passed him Harry realized that it was too hard to tell. But the thought of what her knickers might look like did fill his mind with some lovely little images as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Hell, he told her he was going in there anyways. He just made sure that he took the charm off the door.

When he was done and joined the others back in the lounge Ron was just beginning the highlights of Delores Umbridge's greatest hits at Hogwarts. Everyone had bowls of ice cream but Harry didn't feel left out. As soon as he sat back down on the floor Hermione handed him a bowl of strawberry, his favorite flavor. She then promptly returned to half ignoring, half stealing covert glances at him. It was all very confusing for Harry so he decided to focus on her legs instead. The legs were safe, even if he did long to run his index finger down the length of her left calf muscle. He was curious to see if it was as hard as he thought or as soft as he hoped. Thankfully Ron asked him another question before he decided to test it out for himself.

"Come again?" Harry asked confusedly as he turned his attention to Ron.

"Mate, what the hell is wrong with you? You've been out of it for the last hour," his oh so helpful friend pointed out. Harry looked up at Ron and the redhead actually reared back from the annoyed look Harry gave him. Ron's puzzled face showed clearly that he had no idea what he could have said to make Harry that aggravated with him.

"Probably having flashbacks of all the horrible things that toad woman did to him," said George. Harry always knew that George was his favorite Weasley twin. "I mean taking away Quidditch from a bloke was just a low blow."

"My hand still hurts a bit when it rains," Harry added as he held his right hand up.

"Oh Harry," cried Hermione as she reached down and grabbed the hand. She held it in both of her hands and inspected the skin as if to see if she could still see the faint imprint of the words 'I must not tell lies' there and make them go away. As Harry watched her work her bottom lip between her teeth as her soft warm hands held on to him tightly he felt a calming, soothing sensation move through him. This was his Hermione; always worried about him, always looking for someway to take care of him...protect him. It almost boggled his mind to think that she had been like this with him since he was thirteen years old and got his brand new Firebolt confiscated. For his own good, she told him then. Why had it taken all these years for him to see what he had in her? Never mind Ron, or Ginny, or Cho, or even Riddle. Why was he destined to be a dumb clueless git for the rest of his life? It was so unfair!

"It's alright Hermione. It's feels just fine now," Harry said as he brought his other hand to touch hers. At the contact she blushed and withdrew her hands from his. Well that was interesting, he thought to himself.

"Whatever happened to the woman?" Charlie asked, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"Centaur stampede," Harry answered as uninterestedly as if he was describing paint drying.

Charlie wrinkled his brow. "But...centaurs don't stampede."

"Exactly," said both Fred and George at the same time as they raised their butterbeers in a toast, huge grins displayed for all to see.

"Somehow Bane and the rest in the Forbidden Forest found out that she was organizing a protest rally in Hogsmeade," began Harry as he explained the circumstances surrounding Umbridge's death barely a year ago.

"What was that shite organization called again?" asked Ron.

"People for the Unethical Treatment of the Four Legged," replied Fred.

"In her later years she just became an out and out bigot," said George.

Ron shook his head in disgust. "Completely barmy."

"So a handful of people show up to the rally but before she could begin her speech about twenty centaurs galloped through the town and...uh..." Harry faltered, looking for a delicate way to describe the woman's body after the attack.

"Flattened her like a pancake," Fred said for him. Since that was about right Harry really saw no need to negate what Fred said and shook his head affirmatively instead.

"Merlin! What a way to go," said Charlie.

"I just hope that the hag has beach front property in hell right now and there is sand up the crotch of her thong currently."

"Oy!" shouted Ron as he threw both of his hands over his eyes. "Thanks a lot for the hysterical blindness Fred!" Fred chuckled at his little brother's discomfort.

"Well, although I can't say that I take any particular joy out of another's pain, I'm not too saddened to hear that Umbridge is no longer able to ruin the lives of others," said Hermione. "I think I'll hate that woman forever for what she did to Harry," she said primly.

Harry smiled adoringly at her. "You did take care of her for me though. The look on her face when Grawp came bursting through the trees is still one of my favorite memories."

Once again her cheeks were tinged with pink and Harry had to wonder if he was really seeing it or if it was just a figment of his very frustrated imagination.

"Well that was our Hermione for you," said Ron mirthfully. "She always came through for you in a pinch. Isn't that right Harry?"

Harry tried to sneak a peek at her again, but to his dismay her eyes were steadily focused on Ron. "Yeah," he answered, a touch of misery in his voice.

"Even right from the start," continued Ron, totally unaware of his best friend's inner turmoil. "Take the troll for instance. Glinda, you should have seen this beast," said Ron as he turned to face his sister-in-law. "He had to have been 20 feet at the least. And he was a mean looking bastard too! The blood lust shone clear in his eyes..."

"Brother," George said to Fred as he interrupted Ron's story. "Ever notice that every time he tells this story something else changes?"

Ron gave them both scathing looks, but they ignored him.

"I reckon the next telling will have the troll doing the can-can through the Great Hall," answered Fred with a smirk.

"Shut it you two," snapped Ron amidst the laughter from the others. "As I was saying," he said as he tried to continue his story. "Hermione told McGonagall, Quirrell and Snape the sweetest little lie right on the spot. She didn't even blink. Saved Harry and my arses for sure!"

Harry chuckled at the memory. He could still see Ron's stunned expression when Hermione told the tall tale. Truthfully the look on his own face couldn't have been much different.

"I think I might have even fallen in love with you that very night!"

Harry's smile fell. Just like that the story wasn't as funny anymore.

Hermione giggled and playfully swatted Ron on the arm. "Flattery gets you everywhere," she teased him.

Although it was obvious that Hermione and Ron were just joking with one another Harry was just this close to petulantly telling them to go get a room. His two friends had never had this easy-going rapport with one another, even back when they dated, so what made now different? Harry could still remember Hermione telling him once, ages ago it seemed, that loving someone completely could be difficult. Since her relationship with Ron always appeared so angst filled and stormy Harry figured that was what she meant. He assumed that whatever difficulties Hermione had with Ron was what kept her from staying with him. Had Hermione finally made peace with whatever it was that made her break it off with Ron in the first place? Was this the reason behind her return? Harry shook his head as if to free these thoughts from his mind. If I think about this too long I'll go nutters, he told himself. Besides, he shouldn't worry about them being all gooey with each other. It was when they argued with each other the so called "sexual tension" was on display, right? This? This wasn't so bad. He could handle this.

Although if she puts her hand on his thigh just one more time....

"Listen Blondie," George said as he fixed Hermione with a rueful stare, "just because you were all hot an bothered for this one," he said as he jerked his thumb in Ron's direction making Harry decide that Fred was now his favorite Weasley twin instead, "I still don't think it's fair that you let these two get away with murder when you were always coming down so hard on me and my poor innocent brother."

"Yeah! No fair Blondie! No fair!"

Charlie began laughing at the word 'innocent' so hard that tears actually sprang to his eyes.

A small smile tugged at Hermione's lips, but she valiantly fought it. "That's because most times I didn't have to worry about these two exploding the castle," she said as she looked at Harry and then at Ron.

"Well, most times at least."

"Hey!" Harry and Ron exclaimed with equal parts amusement and scorn.

Glinda and Charlie laughed along with her, but Fred and George seemed unwilling to let the argument go for the moment.

"It was always 'George, you can't make the ickle firsties drink that green goop, it'll a burn holes straight through their tongues'," said Fred in a mocking, shrill voice that made Ron roar with laughter.

"Or 'Fred, I'm taking five points from Gryffindor if I catch you and Angelina in the Astronomy Tower again," George said as Glinda snickered.

"Stop sending Moaning myrtle Valentine cards addressed from Harry. It only encourages her!"

"If you think I won't tell Professor McGonagall that you broke the window trying to fly into the girls dorms you're mad!"

"And I won't stop Filch from hanging you up by your thumbs either!"

Ron found this conversation thoroughly entertaining. He practically bounced on the edge of his seat as he raised his hand excitedly. "Oh, I've got one! I've got one! 'I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could have been killed, or worse, expelled'."

"No! No!" Hermione protested as she hid her embarrassed face with both of her hands and shook her head. Everyone laughed. "I was never that bad! Never!"

Ron poked her in the side as he chuckled at her mortification. "I'm afraid dearest that you were."

"Thank God you lost that stick up your ass by time I met you ducks," Glinda kidded. "I mean sure you were uptight a bit, but you must have been a monster back then."

"Ron called me a nightmare," she said in a feigned accusatory voice as she smacked Ron's thigh...AGAIN!

"But I meant it as a compliment," he replied to her as he threw his arms around her shoulder and pulled her in for a friendly embrace. Harry practically felt his blood boil under his skin.

"I don't recall that one," Fred said to Ron.

"That's because it happened in our first year," Harry said, dragging his eyes from his two best friends who were making him increasingly annoyed by the minute. Ron still had his arms wrapped around her!

"If I recall correctly we had just had our first brush with Hagrid's sweet puppy," Ron told Fred.

"You lot were scared of a puppy?" asked Glinda in puzzlement.

"Well Fluffy was quite special you see," Harry explained. "Fluffy was guarding the Philosopher Stone."

Glinda however still looked confused.

"Oh, did we neglect to mention that Fluffy was 25 feet tall and had three heads?" Ron asked her cheekily.

"Blimey!" Glinda then turned to Fred. "And I'm actually supposed to send my daughter to this school?"

"Don't worry Glinda," Ron said turning to her, "What doesn't kill Felicity will make her stronger."

"How reassuring," Glinda drolled.

"Ron!" admonished Hermione as she pulled away from him (finally) and pinched his arm causing Ron to yelp. The rest of the group laughed at this, Harry the loudest.

"Tell her you're joking," she told him. She then turned towards Glinda. "He's joking," she said to her friend. "Besides, Fluffy doesn't even live in the castle anymore. Felicity will never see him."

"Like there's a Weasley worth their salt who is going to stay out of the Forbidden Forest," said George.

"I don't think Perce has ever gone in," Charlie mentioned.

"I rest my case."

Glinda rolled her eyes. "So Percy was a wanker even then?" Glinda bitingly asked.

"You and Percy don't get along?" Hermione questioned.

"Not since the day that Philmore, Kentmore, and Barrymore," Fred said pronouncing the names in a snooty voice, "set fire to Glinda's mum's antique Persian rug," he answered for her.

"You mean the one she got from Korea?" George jokingly asked and ducked when Glinda tried to bean him with a spare fortune cookie. George cracked it and shared half of it with the dog ignoring Hermione's protests.

"Aren't the triplets too young to be doing any magic?" Hermione asked in wonder.

"Of course," replied Fred. "That's why one of them got a hold of Glinda's lighter instead."

Hermione gave Glinda a disappointed look. "Right before I left you quit."

"I didn't quit, I got pregnant. Big difference," Glinda easily said. "And I only have a fag or two a day now. But that wanker of a brother of Fred's tried to blame the whole thing on me. Said that my disgusting muggle habit could have killed his precious brats, the git," she seethed. "Before I had no problem watching the terrors for Penny so she could go to work, but now I refuse to do it!"

"Did you ever find out which one did it?" Ron queried.

"No," she gruffly answered. "The little bastards dummied up when I tried to get it out of them."

"The trick is to get Kentmore by himself," George said. "He's the one most like Perce. He'll squeal on the other two in a heartbeat."

"You know, I kind of feel sorry for Percy," Charlie generously said which was met with boos and hisses from the twins, Glinda, and Ron. "No, seriously," he continued. "From Bill's letters I kind of get the impression that none of Percy's dreams and goals ever came true for him."

"Well that's what he gets for selling out his family to the Ministry," said Ron indignantly. "He even tried to turn me against Harry at one point. As if there was anything that could have ever made that happen."

Hermione looked pointedly at him.

"Well," he sheepishly mumbled, "not after the last time."

"Yes, well...regardless of the fact it didn't work out for him. He's still just the Minister's assistant and it's been what, nine years? They don't seem to have much faith in him over at the Ministry."

Fred didn't appear to have as much sympathy for Percy as Charlie did. "Well the idiot was taking orders from a man under Imperio for almost a whole year. Can you blame them?"

"That's just what you call plain incompetence," snickered George. "Bloke couldn't organize a piss-up in a brewery."

"Well with Scrimgeour bringing Adair in from Burkina Faso and promoting him over Percy I can only imagine that our brother probably feels used and discarded."

"Then he should leave the Ministry," Fred stated. "It's not like George and I haven't offered him jobs.

Harry looked at him in disbelief. "You told him that he could sweep up the back storeroom two nights a week."

"See," said Fred as he looked back towards Charlie. "I was even willing to overlook the fact that he's under-qualified!"

"Listen," said Glinda interrupting the Weasley brother chat, "since Percy Weasley isn't my husband it really isn't my problem if he feels inadequate, now is it? I just feel sorry for Penny."

Harry and George both howled with laughter while Hermione and Charlie tried not to laugh along with them. Ron looked at his sister-in-law in wide eyed awe, mouth open. Fred bent over and lovingly smacked her on the forehead.

"I don't want to talk about him anymore," she continued as her eyes merrily landed on Hermione. "I rather talk about Hermione," she leaned back into the armrest on the couch and laid her head against Fred's chest. "And her lovely blonde hair she brought all the way from the States for us to play with." Fred and George snickered.

"Bother," said Hermione. "Should have seen that one coming."

"So what's with the hair?" Glinda asked.

"What," said Hermione, "you don't like it? I haven't had it too long." She self-consciously smoothed her hand over the top of her head.

"I like it," said Ron helpfully, earning a smile from Hermione.

Dear Merlin, did she actually dye her hair for Ron?! Everyone knew that Ron had a thing for blondes. The very idea did not sit well with Harry. At all!

"You would," Harry grumpily mumbled which made Hermione look at him with almost a hurt expression and caused Harry to want to sink into the carpeting.

"Good one Harry," said George. "Ron would marry a screech owl if it had blonde hair."

"Low blow. No need to bring Lavender into this," quipped Fred with a smirk.

Although Charlie had the good grace to avert his head so Ron wouldn't see him laugh, Glinda and Hermione nearly collapsed on each other from laughing so hard. Harry even cracked a smile himself until he realized that Hermione was laughing a bit too hard at Lavender's expense. This in turn made him frown. Ron however looked like he was ready to murder Fred. He jumped up from the couch, but Hermione yanked him back down again.

"That's not funny," Ron shouted at his brother. He then looked at Hermione. "It's not funny Hermione!"

"Well it is a bit," Hermione said as she tried to stifle her giggles. At the sight of Ron's pained face she looked contrite as she mumbled, "Sorry."

"So why did you change your hair?" Glinda asked again. "It's a bit dramatic for you, isn't it?"

"What? A little hair dye? It's not drastic at all like Harry's," Hermione said bringing the focus of the conversation and her attention to him. "I mean, look at him," she said as she started to run her fingers through his long hair. The sensation made him want to nuzzle her. "He looks like a Beatle."

Harry raised a brow and looked at Hermione. She was making no sense again.

"Oh don't worry Harry," Glinda said as she spied Harry's mystified expression. "I'm sure she means one of the cute ones. Ringo." Glinda winked at Hermione.

"Stop it," Hermione barely got out due to her crazy giggling. "Harry's a Paul or a John at the least."

George turned to his Charlie and asked, "Do you know what these two are going on about?"

"Not a clue."

Fred simply smiled. "Welcome to my world."

"Well there's no need to insult poor Harry. He's a good enough looking bloke," said George in defense of Harry's honor. "I mean sure the hair's a bit girlie..."

"Thank you George," Harry dryly said.

"Welcome mate," he replied. "But I don't see why you have to say he looks like a bug."

Glinda turned fully to face Hermione. "I blame you for making me marry into this family." Hermione rolled her eyes at the comment.

"It's a band," Ron said as every turned towards him. "The Beatles. It's an old muggle band known for their long hair and some bird who broke them up."

George threw Glinda an exasperated look. "Well why didn't you just say that?"

"Wow Ron," said Hermione to Ron, "I'm really impressed. How did you know that?"

Ron, puffed up with pride by Hermione's compliment said, "Well see, Lavender has this book..."

"And suddenly I'm not interested anymore," said Hermione as she feigned a yawn and turned from Ron. All he could do was huff at the dismissal.

"Well back to the hair...." Glinda tried again.

"Hair, hair, hair...it's like you are obsessed Glinda Weasley. And what do you find so funny George?" Hermione asked as she dodged the question once again and looked down at George.

"Oh nothing," he said with a grin. "Just thinking about all the dumb Blonde jokes me and Fred are going to get to use on you."

"You mean you lot actually have some new ones instead of the same tired ones you've used over and over again on Lav and Fleur?" Ron bitingly asked.

"Say Brother, he has a point," said Fred to George.

"Yeah, on his head!"

Ron muttered a nasty retort under his breath. It was drowned out by Glinda's put out growl.

"I'm starting to think you are purposely avoiding the subject," she said to Hermione. Harry inwardly agreed to this assessment.

"So what?! I'm blonde now, who cares?" Hermione asked in a highly nettled voice. "It's no big deal. I just wanted a change. People do change, you know? Am I not allowed to change?"

"Of course you are," said Glinda. She didn't look fazed by Hermione's contentious demeanor, but Harry was a bit taken aback at it. She seemed a bit too riled up over a simple matter of hair dye.

"I actually like the color on you. Just takes a bit to get used to. You hardly look like yourself. People probably won't even recognize you at the V-Ball." Glinda clapped her hands excitedly. "Ooooh! I can't wait 'til the reactions!"

Shit! He hadn't even thought about the V-Day Ball, Harry realized.

"The V-Ball," Hermione said, almost to herself. "I almost forgot about the V-Ball."

Harry couldn't of course. He was basically the guest of honor every year.

The Ministry hosted the Victory Ball at Hogwarts each June to celebrate the end of the Second War and Voldemort's reign of terror. Technically the war had been over since April, but when Harry and Hermione went missing for weeks after the final defeat the British wizarding society...hell, the wizarding world as a whole all went to a stand still waiting for their boy hero to return to them. Once he and Hermione reappeared at the Burrow near the end of May and the Ministry got word of this plans were put into motion immediately to celebrate the return of

the Chosen One, The Man Who Triumphed. On the 13th of June Scrimgeour hosted a gala at Hogwarts to bestow the Order of Merlin, First Class on Harry as well as other commendations to Hermione, Ron, Remus, and many of the other Order members. Harry didn't really want to go. In fact he wanted nothing to remind him of the ordeal he had gone through. He was ready to have a normal life that had nothing to do with Tom Riddle. As far as Harry was concerned that chapter of his life was over. But he couldn't turn down the chance to see his friends get the recognition for all their hard work. They deserved the honor, far more then he did in his opinion, so he agreed to go along with it. Ron in particular seemed quite excited at the prospect of such a big party, but he kept mum over why. He just said that he had big plans. Harry shrugged the cryptic words off.

The night of the gala he had been so proud of Ron and Hermione as they both received medals for their heroics. In fact he had been so preoccupied with gazing at Hermione who was standing to the left of the podium while the Minister was droning on and on that he barely heard what was being said. But as he saw Hermione's lovely face go from confusion, to disbelief, and then to out and out shock he knew something big had been said. Harry however hadn't been prepared for Scrimgeour's little ambush as he tried to declare July 31 Harry Potter Day. Harry had been incensed! He threw the medal on the ground, stormed off the dais, and marched right out of the Great Hall. Ginny, his date, had tried to get his attention as he crossed the floor, but he just wanted to be left alone.

He ended up hiding out in the Room of Requirement. When he had walked back and forth before the door he had no idea what he would find on the other side, but he honestly hadn't been expecting his nursery from the cottage in the Hollow. Like a zombie he walked inside the blue and yellow wallpapered room with its teddy bears dancing and frolicking about and plopped himself on the the blue-gray carpet. His head lolled back onto the wooden crib and he waited for Hermione to find him. She would come, he knew she would. She alone would understand why he was so upset. Riddle had already taken so much away from him. Now it was expected for his own birthday to be forever linked with that demon? Instead of quiet little gatherings with Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the rest of his make-shift family he was supposed to endure ticker tape parades and long boring speeches about how wonderful he was for all eternity? Like hell he was! Harry wasn't going to stand for it! As soon as Hermione came through the door he was going to tell her that too.

But hours seemed to pass and Hermione didn't show.

Harry was starting to drift off to sleep when finally the door opened. Well it's about time, he nearly said before biting down on his tongue. There was no need to wind her up, he was just relieved that she had finally come for him. But when the door fully opened and the other person walked into the room it wasn't quite who he had been expecting.

"Malfoy?!"

Harry leaped from the floor and his hands automatically clenched into fists.

"If it isn't the Git Who Hid," Malfoy's oily voice drawled. "I figured you would come here to sulk. What happened Potter," he said as he leaned against the closed door, "not enough admiration for you?"

"Malfoy, you don't know shit about me so get the fuck out!"

Malfoy's lips curled into a smug smile as he crossed his arms in front of him. "I don't think I want to."

"Why don't you just go back downstairs," Harry said gruffly. "That is if the party is still going on."

"Oh, it's just breaking up." Harry flinched. It was as if they all didn't even care that he was upset.

"What? Thought that the world would come to a screeching halt just because you had threw a wobbly?"

"Go to hell," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Been there," the blond said as he pushed off from the wall and walked towards Harry. "The room service was dreadful and they forgot my mint on the pillow.

Harry wanted to break every bone in the git's body, but he was trying to control himself. Hermione would be quite peeved if he did.

"You know, Azkaban would be well worth the trip if I could just make your ugly face disappear. Permanently!"

He could still threaten the hell out of Malfoy's life though! But the Slytherin merely laughed at what he perceived as idle threats.

"Ah, but you see Potter you can't kill me. You won't. You have too much 'honor'," his lips smacked disdainfully on the word, "in you to do a thing like that. Besides, you owe me."

Harry disgustedly snorted. "And to think Hermione actually thinks you've changed."

Malfoy's superior smile dropped. Struck a nerve did we, Harry smirked to himself.

"Like you know anything about it," Malfoy angrily said as he stuck out his chin towards Harry. He then decided to change tactics with his assault.

"I got to dance with the Littlest Weasley."

"Thanks for telling me, I'll make sure Ginny gets sanitized."

"Talks on and on about you, you know. She's quite annoying. The two of you are perfect for one another."

Harry rolled his eyes.

Draco moved closer to Harry and glided his fingertips across the top of the crib. The seemingly innocent gesture made Harry want to re-arrange Malfoy's face.

"Danced with Hermione too," he said nonchalantly.

Harry stepped so close to Malfoy that if someone had walked into the room at the very moment they would have thought they were interrupting a very intimate moment.

"You are nothing to her," Harry said in a low, deadly calm voice as he grabbed onto the fabric of Malfoy's dress robes and pulled the other young man towards him. "You will never be anything to her. Don't ever forget it."

"And who are you?" he spat in Harry's face.

"I'm her best friend," Harry said as he pushed Malfoy back from him.

Malfoy scoffed. "Then why don't you go and be her best friend."

Harry gave Malfoy a blank look that made him roll his eyes and curse under his breath.

"I don't even know why I bothered," Malfoy muttered as he turned on his heel, crossed to the door, and pulled it open.

"Finally," Harry said as he turned his back on him. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say if he wanted Malfoy to leave.

"You missed the floor show Potter," Harry heard him say. Harry didn't bother to look at him. He figured that if he ignored Malfoy that ass would go away. "Yes, it was quite the spectacle. The Red Menace actually got down on his knees and proposed to Hermione."

"R-Ron asked Hermione to m-marry him?" Harry somehow asked although he had to wonder how he managed it as there was currently no air in the room.

"He did indeed. A pretty impressive ring too. Can't imagine how he could afford it. But you sound shocked Potter. Don't tell me you didn't know about this?"

Harry actually had no clue. Ron hadn't mentioned it to him. Of course to be fair he didn't like discussing Hermione much with Ron these days and Ron seemed to notice the fact...still...this was the kind of thing you tell a best mate! Didn't Ron think that Harry might have liked to know this?

"Of course I knew," Harry said as he looked at Malfoy dismissively. "It's a given that the two of them are going to get married eventually."

Malfoy snorted.

"So what did she say?" Harry tried to casually ask although his voice wavered. Anyone with even a drop of sensitivity to them would have noticed his tenseness, but this was Malfoy after all. The jerk only shook his head and turned to the door again as if to leave without answering. Harry felt an intense wave of anger burst from him and suddenly the door swung closed and locked. Malfoy stepped back from it and turned rebellious eyed towards Harry.

"What. Did. She. Say?!"

Malfoy studied Harry's belligerent face. Harry could see the conflict on the other man's face. It was obvious that Malfoy wanted to tell Harry something, but the need to aggravate him was almost as powerful. In the end the former purpose won out.

"You should go see about you friend," was his reply.

For a second Harry's heart seized in his chest and he just stared helplessly at his nemesis. "Is Hermione hurt?" Harry took a step closer to him. "Is she alright?"

"No," Malfoy said. "Probably won't be for awhile." Malfoy then sighed. "The party ended because...a messenger arrived. There was an accident. The Grangers...the Grangers are dead...Hermione..."

Harry didn't stay to hear the rest. The door to the Room of Requirement wrenched open as Harry went careening into the hall. He needed to find Hermione. He needed to talk to her. Comfort her. He had to be there for her like she had been there for him all these years.

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

He found her sitting by the lake, her back resting against a tree. As he walked up to her she gave no hint that she noticed him even standing there. Her eyes were looking at the surface of the water, but by the dreary, listless look to them Harry had to wonder if she even saw anything before her. She had taken off the fancy blueberry robes that were sitting next to her and was dressed simply in a ivory blouse with tiny delicate buttons and a black skirt. Her legs and feet were bare, her shoes and hose were nowhere to be seen. Harry's could almost imagine that he felt the sorrow coming from her, but her face was for the most part expressionless. Her face was still blank when she looked up at him, reached for his hand, and placed an object in it.

"Here," she said in a low, even voice.

Harry practically goggled at her. Of all of the things he had been expecting her to say, that wasn't one of them. He was so shocked at her odd behavior that it took him a moment to realize what she had placed in his hand. It was the Order of Merlin pin that he had thrown at Scrimgeour's feet. Harry put it in his pocket.

"I got it for you. I know you don't care anything about it, but one day your children might."

Harry didn't want to talk about the stupid medal. "Hermione..."

Harry paused to think of something to say. What could he say to her? Sorry?

"Where's Ron Hermione?" Harry asked as he slowly sunk down to the grass next to her.

"I think he went home," she murmured. Her eyes still were looking ahead of her. A large tentacle broke the surface of the water and crashed back down, but Hermione didn't seem to notice the antics of the Giant Squid.

"I said some things that he wasn't too happy to hear."

Her words made no sense to him. He figured that she must be in shock and just babbling.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself," he said as he took one of her cold hands in his.

Hermione turned her head and the smallest trace of a smile played about her lips and lit up her eyes before she turned back to the lake. She squeezed his hand. "I'm not."

He waited a moment, expecting her to say something else, but she seemed perfectly fine to just sit quietly with him and hold hands. Truthfully Harry would have been fine with this too.

"You should go find Ginny," she finally said after a few minutes. "She's worried about you. She was going to try and look for you, but Arthur thought you might like to be alone." She then looked at him again. "Your girlfriend needs you right now."

"You need me right now."

Once again Harry thought he saw a sad smile before is faded away.

"What happened Hermione?"

"A car accident," she mumbled before chuckling darkly. "A car accident," she said again, her words filled with bitterness this time.

"Hermione..."

"I don't want to talk about it right now Harry. I just want to sit here."

"Alright," he said. "Then we'll just sit."

How long they sat beside the lake was anyone's guess. The Giant Squid even eventually grew weary of performing for them. But Harry was willing to sit there next to Hermione as long as she needed. He held onto her hand and tried to convey to her in the single act of his touch how much she meant to him, how much he cared for her, and how much he knew just how she felt. Dawn was just beginning to break across the sky when Hermione finally released her grip on him.

"I should go," she said as she gathered her robes from the grass and began to stand up. "I need to go back to the Burrow and take care of a few things...rent a car. Nan is flying in later. I called her. She wants to be with me when I go to the m-mor..."

Hermione's whole body lurched forward a bit, as if the words were too heavy and caused her to loose her footing. Harry reached out to hold her steady, but she had already straightened herself and was standing firmly upright.

"She wants to be there when I go to collect my parents." Her voice was so icy that Harry had to stave off the shiver they produced within him.

"I'll go with you."

She shook her head. "That's sweet, but not necessary. Although Ron was quite furious with me he offered as well. But I'll be fine." She turned as if to walk away from him.

"Hermione..."

"I'll be fine," she said again and began to walk away. Hermione had only gotten a few steps away when suddenly she turned back to Harry, a determined look on her face.

"Can I ask you for a favor?"

Harry quickly advanced towards her. "Anything! You know I'd do anything for you," he said and hoped that she believed how heartfelt the sentiment was.

"Reconsider what Scrimgeour was offering."

Anything but that! His jaw actually dropped in shock at the suggestion. She couldn't be serious! He knew that she was grieving, but to actually ask that of him...

"Hermione..."

"Hear me out. I know that you just want to go on with your life and forget all that you have suffered because of that...that..." her face scrunched in disgust as she searched for the right word. When she wasn't able to find it she morosely sighed and said, "Because of Voldemort. But you have to realize Harry that you aren't the only one who has suffered. All of us have lost...something because of this war." She looked directly in his eyes and grabbed him by the shoulders. "When you took down that bastard that wasn't just for you Harry. It wasn't just your victory. All of us won! All of us won and the world must always remember that! Because there is always going to be another Dark Lord to fill the place of the last. It will never stop! Dumbledore killed Grindewald and Voldemort followed right on his heels. Why? Because people became complacent. Because people forgot what it was like to live in fear because of who or what they are. They forgot what it was like to see loved ones killed for senseless reasons. They forgot because there was no reason to remember. But no one should ever forget what you did for this world."

Although her eyes were red and her face was splotchy and her eyes were pooled with tears, Hermione fiercely restrained herself from giving in to the misery and pain that was so strong that her body shook from it. It was almost like she was forcing herself not to cry. But in a way it was alright. Harry's own face was wet with the tears that he'd shed for her.

"Please Harry, don't let them forget! Because then all of this would have been for n-nothing! And I have to b-believe th-that it was for s-something!"

Hermione threw her arms around him and clung to him desperately. He had to step his foot out behind him so as not to teeter back due to the force of her embrace. His arms came around her to bring her closer as he tried to comfort her.

"Please Harry! I have to believe that," he heard her whisper into his robes. Then she pulled away from him and ran across the lawn towards the castle.

Later that day, although his head was mostly filled with thoughts of Hermione, Harry went to the Ministry to see Scrimgeour. Although he had behaved badly the night before and he apologized profusely for it the Minister of Magic was more then happy to see him. Harry thanked him for his award and explained the reason for his visit; a proposition. More like a compromise. Although he was proud that Scrimgeour would bestow upon his birthday the honor of a National holiday (Harry had nearly choked on the ridiculous lie), he felt that he was undeserving of such accolades. Especially when he had so much help in defeating Voldemort. In fact, Harry said conspiratorially to the Minister, through out the whole ordeal and months of trying to bring down Voldemort it had almost felt like he had the power of the Ministry backing him all the way. Harry honestly didn't know how he kept a straight face through the conversation, but somehow he managed it. It was important that he get across to Scrimgeour that all of wizarding kind should feel responsible for Riddle's end, that he couldn't have done it with out everyone believing in him. It was bullshit, but it was good bullshit. Of course Scrimgeour was too savvy to fall for Harry's spiel, but there was just enough of the politician in him to see how well such tripe would go over with the wizarding populace as a whole. Two days later Harry read in the Prophet the Ministry's plan to make the second Saturday in June Victory Day, a day of celebration for magical people all across Great Britain. Scrimgeour took the credit for the idea, but Harry didn't mind. Hermione actually smiled for the first time in days the morning the article was printed. Ginny playfully teased him at the Burrow's breakfast table that Harry Potter Day had a nicer ring to it, but seeing how proud he was of how the whole thing came about she didn't tease him for too long.

"I haven't gone to a Victory Ball in ages," said Hermione.

"And you're not going to this one," Harry said, his voice nearly screeching with dread. Everyone in the room looked at him as though he were mad. Harry didn't care though. The idea of Hermione going out in public stirred warning signals in his fevered mind.

Glinda arched a a dark eyebrow in his direction as she tossed her long, inky black hair over her shoulder. "And what's to stop her? Planning on locking her in her room and tying her to the bed Potter?"

The effect of such naughty imagery wasn't lost on him. It almost wasn't lost on the rest of the people in the room either, but Harry delicately shifted his position on the floor. It didn't help matters though that Hermione's cheeks turned pink as she looked at him and then quickly looked away again. Isn't that just great! Now she doesn't just think you are a pervert, she has proof of it.

"Er...um...It's just...you know...the papers." And the people who read papers. "The media was always so harsh with Hermione."

"Fuck The Prophet," Glinda said, tossing off the curse word as though it were part of her every day speech. Which it was. Woman had a mouth like a bloody dockworker.

As usual Fred was amused by just about everything that his wife uttered. "Here, here," he said as he clapped his hands. George and Charlie joined in as well. One would have thought that they were at a Quidditch match, the way they were acting.

"In fact, fuck Bitch Weekly too! That's the problem with you magic people, so goddamned old fashioned! So what if Hermione dated a bit?! She fooled around with a few men, big deal! I've had more!"

Ron's mouth dropped open. He was completely scandalized.

"And a woman or two at uni!"

Even Charlie's eyebrows raised up at that. Ron gulped, too mortified to speak. George and Fred only grinned. It was their regular entertainment to see Glinda on a tare. Sometimes they would set her off just to see what new combination of swear words she would invent. It looked like Hermione was also enjoying Glinda's rant and the discomfort that it produced in Ron as well as Harry.

"That's what I've never gotten about your 'world'. Everyone acts as though you're supposed to marry the first bloke you ever kiss and have a house full of kiddies by time you're 23. Sometimes life just doesn't work out that way. Why those two bitches that are friends with Angelina act like I'm the one responsible that she and Freddie didn't work out. When she's the one that slept around on him."

Fred rubbed at Glinda's shoulder reassuringly, but she was warming up to her subject now.

"Every time they see me it's the same look in their eye; usurper."

"Oh, you get usurper?" asked Hermione. "I used to get interloper and social climbing muggleborn," she said with a mirthful glint in her eye.

"That's not funny Hermione," Ron said sourly. "Don't make a joke out of it! It's all that no-good Skeeter woman's fault. Making it out like Hermione was some...some...flirty floozy only out to date purebloods."

"But you, Wood, and Davies are purebloods," George said helpfully. He jumped back when both Ron and Harry growled at him. Poor Lizzie went running from the room and through the kitchen.

"Skeeter made it into a bigger deal then it was," Harry muttered. "You know she hated Hermione since fourth year. As soon as she became editor at the Prophet she used it as her personal pulpit to attack Hermione. Then the other papers followed suit."

Harry turned towards Hermione, trying his best to sway her from the idea of making such a public splash so soon. "If you go it's just going to start up again." He remembered well how much some of those stories used to hurt Hermione, even though she tried her best to act as though they didn't. Harry however was shocked by her response.

"Let it," she said. "Glinda's right, to hell with the press! I don't care what they say about me anymore! The only people's opinions that really count know who I am so it doesn't matter. Besides with all of those people who were at the Burrow after the party I'm sure my reappearance is already making the rounds."

Harry didn't utter a peep. He didn't share with them the fact that just the other day, right before he stopped in at the Burrow to talk with Charlie (and get a peek at Hermione) he paid a visit to the guests who were the last to leave the commencement. For a wizard as skilled as Harry it was quite easy to erase just one small memory from a person's mind. They wouldn't even miss it. Of course Harry felt terrible for going to such extreme matters, but really, how else was he going to keep Marietta Edgecombe and her like from blabbing the news that Hermione was back all over town? However when he got to Neville's house he couldn't bring himself to callously take advantage of his old friend. He was actually shocked to find Neville still at home so late, Harry figured that he would probably have to stop at the store to catch him. But when Neville's house guest came down to the kitchen wearing only one of Neville's t-shirts and a smile and then ran right back up again at the sight of him, Harry grinningly understood the reason behind the late start to the brown haired wizard's day. Ten minutes later Candide came back downstairs looking very wrinkled but gorgeous still in the same floral print sundress she wore to Ron's engagement party, apologized to Harry, gave Neville a long and passionate kiss goodbye, and walked out the house. Neville tried to play the whole thing off with as much dignity as he could, but Harry only laughed and gave him a congratulatory clap on the back. Once the male bonding was done he told Neville that he needed him to keep mum on the fact that Hermione was in England again. Harry was a bit taken aback when Neville suspiciously asked him why, but Harry easily told him that it was because of a case he was working on that somewhat concerned their mutual friend. In a way it wasn't that much of a lie.

"Anyway, once I go to Ron's game everyone will know I'm back."

Ron practically jumped on Hermione. "You're coming to my game?!" he asked excitedly.

"Of course I am," she said as she smiled indulgently at him.

Just great! She might as well call a press conference. Harry was almost disconsolate. What could he do, forbid her from going to both the Ball and the game? That was like asking if he wanted a black eye with his split lip.

"Its settled then," said Glinda. "Hermione goes to Ron's little thing..."

"Little?!"

"And the Victory Ball. And I get to buy a new gown."

Fred pulled Glinda back so he could look in her face. "But you just bought a frock."

"Yes love, but Hermione's back now. I simply must get a new one!" She turned back to Hermione as a huge smile spread across her face. "We'll go into London, hmm?"

Glinda's excitement was rubbing off on her because her smile was just as cheery. "That sounds do-able."

"And," Glinda said as her eyes took on a sly glint, "you can let me drive Big Ben out there," she said nodding her head in the direction where Hermione's truck was parked outside. Hermione laughed at her brazenness.

"I thought muggles gave their motor vehicles female names?" Charlie asked as he chuckled.

Glinda smiled cheekily at her brother-in-law. "I'm a feminist."

"And I'm the Maharajah," Hermione quipped.

"Well I'm the best friend," said Ron. "So if Glinda gets to drive Ben so do I."

Harry's ears perked up. He had been hoping to ask Hermione to let him take the truck for a spin since he rode in it the day before.

"If Ron gets to drive it, I get to drive it."

Fred and George both sat up straight. "Oy!" they shouted.

Hermione laughed at their jockeying for her favor.

"Who among you have a drivers license?" she asked in a teacher-like voice. Harry and Glinda both raised their hands co-operatively...like idiots. Harry had to laugh. For the first time Harry could see how she might have made a good teacher. Ron looked at the both of them an scowled.

"Bloody tests!"

On a whim Ron tried to get a license the same time that Harry did, but failed the exam brilliantly!

"You drive Harry?" Hermione asked in a surprised voice.

"It's part of the requirements for the Department. Sometimes we have to drive muggle cars when we're undercover."

"Oh," she remarked. "Do you like it much? Being an Auror?"

Harry hesitated for a moment. He wanted to tell her about the Defense professorship that was awaiting him in September. He could just picture her amazement and the proud look that would be on her face. But he wanted to do it when it was just the two of them. He didn't want to share that moment with anyone else.

"It's alright I guess," he said as her forehead wrinkled. She opened her mouth to speak, but Charlie cut her off.

"Stop being so modest Harry. According to Ginny we are all sitting in the presence of the future Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement ."

What the hell was Charlie talking about?!

"When did Ginny say that to you?" he asked. Charlie had to have it wrong. Why on Earth would Ginny tell her brother something like that?

"She sent me a letter just last week. She's very proud of you mate. Bragged on and on about you."

"Ginny brags when Harry ties his laces correctly," Ron leaned over and stage whispered to George causing him to laugh loudly.

Ignoring Ron's comments Hermione said briskly, "Well she's his wife isn't she? Ginny should be proud of Harry!" Hermione then gave Harry a big smile that made him feel sick to his stomach. Harry just hoped that he didn't wince every time she said the words "his wife." That would be just perfect...except not.

"Congratulations Harry," she said. "That's wonderful news!"

Harry tried to correct her, tried to tell her that Ginny made the whole thing up, but she cut him off before he could.

"So how is Draco?"

Malfoy?! Why the hell did she have to mention Malfoy?! Oh that's right, to drive you bat shit crazy!

"Is he even still with the Department? You all haven't mentioned him. Do you ever work together? Do you see him much?"

Charlie, Fred, and George burst into laughter. George actually laughed so hard that he threw himself across the floor and practically rolled around on the carpet. The only comfort Harry found was that Ron at least looked as displeased as he felt.

"Oh, they work together...much," giggled George.

Fred concurred. "You could even say that they work side by side."

"They're quite the pair."

"Each other's better half."

"Could you two idiots be quiet!" Ron looked between his two brothers and rolled his eyes. He then said to Hermione, "The Great Albino Ferret is Harry's partner."

Hermione laughed. Madly. She laughed so hard that she threw her head back and her arms wrapped around her as she fell back onto the couch. But slowly the realization that no one else was laughing at the joke began to sink in. Her laughter began to peter put, her grin began to fade. Her eyes searched the faces of all those around her before saying, "But they would kill each other!"

George picked up Harry's arm near him and pretended to feel for a pulse.

"Well he is a bit pale..."

"Prat!" Harry snatched his arm away. "Yes, Malfoy and I are partners."

Hermione's baffled face was adorable. "And...and you two get along?"

"Define 'get along'," Harry half-jokingly said.

"Harry..."

"We get along well enough. We've never hexed each other in the line of duty," he said proudly as though that made all the difference. "He's still an arse, but Luna has been a calming influence on him."

"Luna?" Now Hermione looked completely perplexed now. "But what does Luna Lovegood have to do with Draco?"

Glinda grabbed Hermione's arm to turn her around. Her grin was nothing short of colossal. "Oh duckie, have I a story to tell you."

And Glinda told it. Everything! Warts and all. Harry watched Hermione's face intently as she heard that Malfoy and Luna were now a couple. Harry was curious as to how she would handle this news. He was rewarded with a non-reaction. Hermione gave no outward sign one way or another on how she felt about the pair. This didn't give Harry much comfort though. It was beginning to dawn on Harry that somewhere along the way Hermione had become quite adept at hiding her thoughts and emotions from him. He had to wonder just how long such had been the case. But Harry didn't have time to think on this long because Glinda had just reached the part in her tale on just how Luna and Malfoy got together.

"You left poor Luna at the alter for Lavender?!" Hermione thundered as she whipped her head around towards Ron. "LAVENDER?!"

"What's wrong with Lav? She's a good sort!"

Hermione scoffed disgustedly at Ron.

"C'mon Blondie, don't be so hard on her," Fred said good naturedly. "To tell you the truth I'm willing to give any bird high marks who could take you on when it came to these two prats," he said as he pointed at Harry and Ron.

"Lavender Brown? Take me on?" Hermione rolled her eyes arrogantly. "Honestly."

"Now you must admit that sweet little jinx she hit you with at Ron's party was a winner?"

Hermione was facing Fred therefore didn't see the frantic hand signals that Ron was making, trying in vain to get Fred's attention.

"Almost didn't think those ears were going to come off of you. It was brilliant!"

George looked questioningly at Ron. "But I thought that you told me that you were the one that hexed Hermione that night?"

"What?!"

Ron's eyes bugged out in terror as he looked at first from George then at Hermione. "Sweet merciful Merlin," he whimpered.

Harry sighed resignedly. Batten down the hatches boys, Hurricane Hermione was about to roar through.

The incident Fred was referring to was one that Harry didn't actually get to witness for himself, but he had heard enough accounts of it to get a good idea of what took place. He had even heard a dramatic retelling of it on the Wireless one evening as read from the Daily Prophet not too long after. According to all the reliable (and some not too reliable) witnesses one night, at a party to celebrate Ron finally making it onto the starting line up for the Canons, Lavender jinxed Hermione with a pair of long, brown donkey ears that replaced her own. The spell had been so powerful that no one at the party could manage to get the ears off Hermione, not even the talented witch herself. Harry missed the whole thing, he had been...busy...in a corner with Ginny at the time, but as soon as they heard the commotion coming from outside of the house Harry ran out to investigate. He found the crowd electrified by the scene they had just witnessed. Apparently Hermione and Oliver had been sucking each others faces off (at least according to Ron) on a bench when Lavender approached Hermione to take her to task for throwing her relationship with Wood in poor Ron's face. Especially at a party in Ron's honor! Hermione tried to ignore the other young woman, but Lavender wasn't having it. She began to insult Hermione calling her all kinds of names. Still Hermione ignored her and tried to leave the party with Oliver. Hermione would have gone quietly too if Lavender hadn't accused her of using Ron. It was that accusation that broke the camel's back. Hermione began to spar with Lavender like a champ. Although Lavender was no slouch, when it came to confrontations, Hermione could get vicious with her barbs and retorts when pushed to it. And according to most there that night she put up an excellent show. Eventually Ron and Oliver joined the argument and as a matter of course wands came out and Hermione ended up with the ears. When Harry reached the scene Hermione had already disapparated away, Oliver and Ron were trading blows, and just about everyone was pulling out two-way mirrors or looking for the nearest floos so they could spread the gossip. Once Harry got a grasp on the situation he told Ginny that he was going to look for Hermione and quickly disapparated on the spot. After checking her flat, his, the Burrow, and a few more places he eventually found her in a private room on the fourth floor at St. Mungo's. As soon as Harry walked through the door his footstep faltered and his eyes were drawn to the hairy ears. She was sitting up in a bed reading from a book about animal transfigurations that was in her lap. She looked up as soon as he opened the door and closed the book.

"I look like an ass."

Harry paused for a moment, somewhat unsure of what to say to her. "But a cute one," he finally settled on. He even added a surely goofy looking smile for good measure.

Hermione scrunched up her face, determined not to smile at the remark. "You will not make me laugh Harry Potter. I'm quite alright stewing in my righteous indignation, thank you very much."

Harry chuckled. He approached the bed and sat down on the chair next to it, leaning in towards her."What happened?"

"What, Ron had nothing to say?"

"He...uh...Ron and Oliver were still...discussing matters when I left."

"Figures," she said with disgust. "I reckon one or both of them will show up here before long. I need to get the hell out of here before that happens."

"Sure. Right after you tell me your side of the story."

"What's to tell? Lavender just decided that I would look better with a set of ass' ears. Oh, that's right after telling me that I was acting like a tart."

"We're you?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed at him and Harry sat back in his chair. "Don't you start with me. Maybe I shouldn't have been so...forward with Olie like that in front of Ron. But I honestly didn't know he was out there in the backyard. Plus I've had a few so I can't be blamed entirely for my actions."

Harry now understood how all of this confusion could have happened. Hermione was a light weight when it came to alcohol. She couldn't handle the stuff. A single glass of champagne or wine made her giggly and loopy. A shot or two and she was just this side of dancing on tables. Half a flagon of firewhiskey and either he or Ron were carrying her home over their shoulders. The next day she would hide her face in shame over her antics from the previous night. It was for this reason that she rarely drank. It was very hard for her to act all superior and high minded with him and Ron after one of their pub crawls if she could barely stand up or remember her name. She once told him that she didn't seem capable of making good decisions when in that condition. Bad things tended to happen. In fact,the last time, Wood happened.

But there was something that bothered Harry. He didn't remember Hermione drinking that night. When Hermione and Oliver first showed up at the party she and Harry had settled down on a worn couch and chatted away for hours. He had been keeping his distance from her for the last few weeks, due to Wood, but as soon as she walked through the door of the house he realized just how much he missed her; her company, her laughter, the way the corners of her eyes would crinkle when she smiled just so. He didn't even mind that she babbled on and on about her work or the really cute thing that Crookshanks had done the other day. In fact he missed her so much that he tried to convince her to move back in with him and Ron. He had never really gotten over her moving out. Just one day everything was happy in their little household, excluding a tense moment here and there between her and Ron, and the next her things were packed up and she was living in Brixton with Glinda whom she barely knew at the time. When he asked her about it she said that she needed to learn how to live without him and Ron always being there. The answer was painful to hear, but in a way he understood it. Hermione and Ron had been permanent fixtures in his world for nearly half of his life. They all were closer then close. Some even said too close. Harry knew that there were whispers about what went on behind their closed door...but that kind of thing didn't concern him. Just like it still didn't concern him. He wanted Hermione back with him...and Ron, where she belonged, and told her as much while the party raged on around them. She laughingly told him that she would have no place to sleep since Ron turned her old room into a game room. Harry joked that she had to come back since he and Ron were just two helpless wankers who needed her to clean up after them and pay a third of the rent. She teased that he should have his girlfriend move in and do that for him. Harry rolled his eyes mirthfully. Ginny had told him very firmly that she would live with him only when she was Mrs. Harry Potter. Harry said this to Hermione. At that exact moment Ginny, who had been gossiping away with a few friends, showed up and plopped herself in Harry's lap. Hermione told Ginny that her ears must have been burning and then timidly excused herself to go find her date. Thirty minutes later the drama started.

"You seemed alright when we were talking. I didn't notice that you were tipsy."

"Harry, and I mean this in the nicest way, you wouldn't notice it if a kelpie roller skated through the door and kicked you in the balls."

Harry's jaw dropped at the insinuation and her language. As if he were really that thick!

"You know how Olie loves his whiskey. I took a sip out of his cup and...whoo...there went the world."

Harry glowered at Hermione. He was tired of hearing about Olie this and Olie that, thank you very much. If she would just stop this foolishness and go back to Ron where she belonged...

"So what's going to happen with..." he eyed the troubling appendages, "those?"

Hermione frowned and distractedly began nibbling on her lip. "Nothing. For at least three days. Something must have went wrong with Lavender's spell. Healer Wilkie thinks that she got the incantation mixed up in her head...the idiot. The ears don't want to budge now. He gave me a potion, but it's going to take three whole days before they fall off and my own ears grow back in. Three whole days! I'm absolutely mortified by this whole thing! I can just imagine tomorrow's headline. And when I was filling out my paperwork in the waiting room everyone was looking and pointing at me."

Harry reached out and took a hand in his. He knew just what it felt like to have people look at him like he was a circus freak. He could sense that she appreciated the comforting gesture.

"Oh by the way, when I was filling out the forms I had to put down someone as my medical guardian. I put you. I hope you don't mind? It's just...well...it would have been my parents but...and Ron...well...Any way if it's too much of a hassle..."

"Hermione, you know I'd do anything for you."

"I know." She gave him a small smile as she removed her hand from his.

"So what exactly do I have to do?" he asked.

"Nothing," she stated. "Harry you won't even have to worry about it. Trust me. The guardian is just in place to make decisions for you in case something happens. But really it's just a formality. Just a name to put on a blank line. I mean, I'm not like you and Ron, flying all about the place willing to break my neck for Quidditch." The way she wrinkled her nose as she said the word so disdainfully made Harry snicker. "Nothing ever happens to me."

Harry folded his arm across his chest and raised an eyebrow at her. "Hermione, you've been turned into a cat, petrified by a basilisk, and stayed in a coma for nearly a month...and thats just the highlight reel."

"Know-it-all prat," she huffed as she fell back on the bed.

"Takes one to know one."

It was a good thing that he was already at a hospital. If the book she threw at him had actually connected with his skull he would have had one monster of a headache.

"Ronald Billius Weasley! You hexed me?!" Hermione was standing up in front of Ron, arms planted on her hips, feet spread wide apart. She was gloriously enraged! Harry almost imagined he could feel the air crackle with electricity. Everyone was simply riveted by her display of fury. George even conjured up a bag of popcorn that he and Charlie passed back and forth between them. They munched away as they enjoyed the floor show.

"Just a little," Ron squeaked out. He looked as though he were trying to make his large frame squeeze between the cushions of the sofa in order to get away from her.

"And you let Lavender take the blame all of this time?!"

"She wanted to! She knew you'd kill me then if you knew that it was me that did it."

"I'm in a mind to kill you now!"

"It's not like I was aiming for you. You just got in the way," he foolishly tried to explain. "I wanted that git Wood! I bet you didn't even hear what he was saying to me. He had the nerve to call Lav a replacement shag!"

"Well if the bed sheets fit!"

Ron jumped up from the couch and nearly dwarfed her. His eyes burned furiously at her. "Now you wait one minute miss! Don't you say that about Lav! You were just as responsible for that fight."

"And how do you figure that?!"

"If you hadn't acted like a...like a...a..."

Hermione rolled up the long sleeves of her sweatshirt. She fixed Ron with a steely glare. "Say it and you walk down the aisle with a limp Weasley!"

In Harry's opinion she looked like she meant business. Ron must have thought so to because he paused to rethink his next words.

"You were trying to make me jealous," he accused her.

Hermione laughed mockingly. "Jealous? Ha! Must have been a Thursday if I was trying to make you jealous."

Glinda giggled. "Well you must admit duckie, you did turn into the kissing bandit as soon as you had a pint or two."

George began to choke on his popcorn. Charlie slapped him on the back helpfully. Hard. Hermione's eyes fleetingly glanced at him before she turned a murderous glare on Glinda.

"Oh please, that shite doesn't work on me and you know it," Glinda dismissively said with a smirk.

"Listen Hermione," interjected Ron, hands raised before him in appeasement. "It was an honest accident. I didn't mean to hurt you," he said sincerely. He then grinned. "Besides, it could have been worse. I actually meant to turn Wood into a horse's ass. Who knew that equus asinus augeo would do that?"

Harry dropped his head into his hands. Ron really could be an idiot at times.

Hermione made a sound that was a cross between a lion being bitch slapped and an elephant being circumcised. In other words it was inhuman. She threw her hands in the air and seethingly stamped her way out of the room and into the kitchen.

"And they said those two crazy kids would never make it work. Oh wait..."

Glinda smacked Fred hard on his arm causing him to yelp in pain.

"I better see about her," she said as she exited in the same direction as Hermione.

After a moment of silence Charlie said, "Well, that was...fun?"

Ron slowly sat back on the couch.

"She's never going to speak to me again, is she?"

Fred dismissively rolled his eyes at the question. "Please! How many times have you said that before? And mum would always catch you two snogging somewhere shortly after." A big grin then formed on his face as he looked at Harry. "Almost reminds you of old times, doesn't it mate?" he asked him.

Harry's heart sank. It sure did.

"I'm going to go talk to Hermione," Harry said, avoiding Fred's question as well as his concerned look.

Harry got up and left the living room. When he walked in the kitchen he saw that the sliding door was still open. Looking outside he saw Hermione pushing Glinda in the tree swing. Lizzie was yipping and yapping as she frolicked around them. If Hermione was still mad she gave no outward sign. The two women looked like they were enjoying themselves and Harry felt himself wanting to join them. He had even began to walk out towards the patio when he an odd sound broke his stride. It was like a buzzing, humming sort of a noise. Harry looked all about him to see where the sound was coming from. When his veered to the right of him he found the answer.

Hermione's mobile.

It was sitting on the maroon and crème striped cushioned bench that was a part of Hermione's old breakfast nook. Harry's head quickly turned back to the patio. Hermione obviously was too far away to hear her mobile go off. He had barely heard it. He just couldn't believe that she had been so careless to leave her phone out in the open. What was she thinking? Anyone could just walk right up to the table and pick it up, turn it on...answer it to see who was calling. Harry slyly glanced out the doorway one more time before he decided to do just that.

As he picked up the phone he scolded himself for what he was doing. He was about to invade Hermione's privacy...again! But Harry couldn't fight off the unmistakable curiosity that swelled inside him at the sight of the mobile as it vibrated in his hand. Just who was calling Hermione? Who needed to reach her? Here he was, Hermione's best friend, and he didn't even have her phone number. Then again he didn't have a phone in his house either, but that wasn't the issue here. Focus Potter, he told himself as his finger wavered over the little button that read 'talk'. He wondered if he could go through with it, could he actually sink this low? He then reminded himself that he had obliviated nearly a dozen people just the other day. His morals had obviously decided to take a holiday. Harry figured that after working with Malfoy so long some of his Slytherin-y ways were starting to rub off on him. Finding that excuse satisfactory he prepared to answer the phone. Of course that was when it stopped vibrating.

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

Harry was so mad that he almost hurled the tiny gadget against the far wall but thought better of it. In frustration he glanced down at the screen of the phone and just before the light dimmed saw the name Collier on it.

Collier. Where have I heard the name Collier before, Harry painstakingly wondered. The answer seemed destined to allude him until he drifted back to his conversation with Hermione the day before as they were out driving. Hermione had mentioned a Collier, didn't she? As Harry's mind began to recount the conversation he realized that Hermione had in fact mentioned some fellow named Collier. She said he was her friend. Harry, being a jealous arse, asked her just what kind of friend Collier was. And what did she say? She avoided the fucking answer is what she did, Harry reminded himself. She was really good at that, wasn't she? Then again if this Collier was her friend it would make sense for him to call her, right? See how she was doing. Ask her if she had a safe trip. That was the friendly thing to do, wasn't it? What was one little call?

Harry's eyes looked outside again. Both women were now sitting in the grass, heads huddled together. Glinda was eating an apple while Hermione was trying to tear the rind off of an orange she had obviously picked from the tree. Good, Harry thought to himself as he tried to figure out just how to look at the mobile's call log. Although Harry had rarely used a mobile phone, quite frankly he had gotten used to using very little muggle technology, he wasn't that inept when it came to operating them. His Aunt Petunia had given one to Dudley the summer that Hermione and Ron had stayed at Privet Drive with him. The human blimp had used it to order pizzas from his bedroom. Harry had politely asked him once to borrow it so Hermione could use it to call her mum and dad. The fact that Harry did so while purposefully twirling his wand through his fingers was arbitrary.

As soon as Harry accessed the menu he found what he was looking for. There were three options to choose from. Calls Made, Calls Missed, and Calls Received. Harry decided to see who Hermione had been calling first. The number of the last person she called was listed as Cynthia. If Harry recalled correctly that was her cousin's name. Finding nothing wrong with that he then went to the next name. Collier.

"Ok," he said, speaking the word out loud. "So she called him once. No harm."

Then he scrolled through the next seven names. Collier. Collier. Collier, and so on.

Harry didn't think he much cared for this Collier bloke.

He irritably decided to look at the other lists. He went to the Calls Missed. Once again there was Collier's name, mocking him. Harry practically snarled at it. The next few calls were all from a different person. Laurie.

Wonder who she is, Harry thought to himself. Shrugging it off, he was just about to look at the last call list when Ron came tiptoeing into the room. In Harry's opinion he did, anyway.

"Do you think she still wants to kill me?"

The sound of Ron's voice spooked Harry to the point that he almost dropped Hermione's mobile on the ground. As discreetly as he could he turned around as he held his arms behind his back and gingerly placed the phone back onto the cushion. He prayed that Ron hadn't seen it in his hands. Since his back had been to the kitchen entrance it looked like that was the case. Ron didn't even seem to notice the phone sitting there. As Harry got a look at his friend's worried face Harry tried to make his own face smooth with concern.

"Well," the redhead anxiously asked again, "do you?"

Harry shrugged as he crossed the floor to Ron. "You know Hermione, she can't stay mad at you for long. I'm sure you two will kiss and make-up," he said, his own words causing him to wince inwardly. It was almost like he enjoyed digging the knife in deeper.

Ron smiled broadly. "You're right Harry. That's our Hermione for you."

A tiny smile formed on Harry's lips. "Yeah, it is."

The two men then looked out the patio door where the sound of Glinda shrieking could be heard. Lizzie was trying to eat the apple out of her hand as Hermione looked on, giggling. Harry smiled goofily at them before turning around to find Ron looking just as interested. This did not help Harry's already troubled mood. He decided then to get Ron's attention.

"So what do you think about her?" he asked him. "Her being back, I mean."

Ron's smile grew. "It's great, isn't it? She looks good doesn't she?"

"She looks alright I guess," Harry tried to say lightly, though he couldn't look Ron in the face when he said it.

"Alright?!! She looks fanbloodytastic!" Ron exclaimed. Harry glared at him disapprovingly.

"Sorry mate, I'm engaged, not dead." Ron then chuckled and Harry was hard pressed not to join him. "Then again you never did see her like I did, huh," he said as he clapped Harry about the shoulders. Harry wasn't in the mood to tell Ron how wrong he was.

"She is a bit different though, don't you think?"

Harry looked questioningly at Ron.

"If it wasn't for the fact that she still seems to have a love for overly large house pets and can still manage to make me want to piss my pants, I'd be asking her what her favorite jam flavor was."

"Orange marmalade," Harry said offhandedly.

Ron's face screwed up. "Really? I always thought it was boysenberry."

"That's your favorite Ron."

"Oh yeah."

Harry shook his head at his friend.

"By any account she's a bit more free spirited then she was. Texas must have done her some good."

Harry nodded his head in agreement of the assessment.

"She even has a tattoo."

"What?!!"

Ron placed a finger low on the side of his back. Very low. "Right about there."

"WHAT?!!"

"Calm down Harry, it's not like she lifted up her shirt and gave me a free show. Fred is the one who told me."

If Ron was trying to help matters he was doing a piss poor job of it.

"Relax Harry! Glinda was the one who noticed it. She saw it when Hermione got up to go to the kitchen. That's when she told Fred and he just told us just now in there." He pointed his thumb back towards the living room.

"Then you missed it when she came back with the ice cream. Glinda asked her about some of the places she's gone. When Hermione mentioned Negril George, the prat, asked her if she had ever gone to one of those nudie beaches there and went starkers. She said 'when in Rome'."

Harry's mouth fell open.

"My reaction exactly! Glinda and Fred thought it was just the funniest thing. 'When in Rome'...just what the hell is that supposed to mean? You think she was having us on Harry?"

Actually at the moment Harry was having a bit of a hard time thinking at all.

"That's why I was talking about Umbridge when you got back. I figured that something was needed to deflate the situation...if you understand me."

Harry did, but he couldn't say that a nude Umbridge was enough to do the trick, even for him.

"I didn't like the way that George was eyeing her after that."

Harry gave Ron a mystified look. "George? Eyeing her?"

"Yeah," Ron said disparagingly. "I always had a feeling that the wanker was sweet on her."

"George? Sweet on Hermione?" Harry was dumbfounded by all the things Ron was telling him. Hermione with a tattoo? Walking around starkers where he couldn't see? George fancying her? And then to top it off Ron's over protective tone. Harry felt like his brain was slowly leaking out of his head.

"It doesn't matter one way or another," he said shaking his head. "Not like Hermione would give George the time of day."

"Oy! What's wrong with my brother?"

Harry rolled his eyes irritably at Ron. The Weasley boys and their sister were famous for ridiculing and abusing each other, but let anyone say an unkind word about one of their siblings in their presence, even Percy, and they went into attack mode.

"Nothing, you git! I just don't see Hermione being interested in dating your brother after she was with you for so long. Do you?" At least I hope not, Harry thought to himself.

Ron grinned sheepishly. "I suppose you're right, eh? I just hope she stays," he continued. "I just can't fight the feeling that one of these days she's going to be right back out of that door."

Ron's gloomy yet profound words sounded almost prophetic in Harry's ears. "Yeah," he said.

"Than again," the redhead brightened, "something had to bring her back, right?"

Harry's eyes still looked to the ground. "Yeah," he half whispered again.

"Can anyone join the conversation or are you lot lot talking about chucking me out of the band?"

Without them hearing her, Hermione had come back into the kitchen. She stealthily crept up between them while their backs were facing her and threaded her arms around both of their waists. She radiantly smiled at them both. After getting over the initial surprise he and Ron wrapped an arm around her bringing them all into some kind of three way hug.

Ron looked down at her. "I don't know," he said skeptically. "How are you on the bass?"

She wrinkled her nose as she cheekily said, "Dreadful! But I play a mean triangle."

Ron guffawed loudly as he dropped a wet kiss on her forehead. "Forgive me?" he asked.

"Always," she answered. Her voice then cracked as she dropped her head on his shoulder and sobbed, "Oh Ron, I've missed you so much!"

Although he was standing right next to her Harry felt as though he might as well have been miles away. The way she was looking at Ron made him feel like he had a clenched fist in his chest. He morosely wondered why she couldn't look at him that way? If he could have taken back all of his past mistakes would she have ever looked at him that way? If things were different could she look at him that way now? Then he reminded himself that regardless of the answer it still wouldn't make a difference.

Ron, noticing his heartsick expression, jovially nodded his head towards him, "Don't be such a berk Harry! You know that she's missed you too!"

At these words Hermione lifted her head off of Ron and looked Harry directly in the eyes.

"With all my heart," was all she said as she smiled sweetly at him. It was as if that clenched fist in his chest loosened and began to caper and skip about inside him. As Harry tenderly gazed at her for all he knew they were the only two people in the world. But then he came crashing back to reality.

"Ow Ron! You're pocket just burned me!" Hermione squealed loudly, jumping back from both he and Ron.

"Oh shit!" Ron dove a hand into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a glowing blue compact. He turned around so that Harry and Hermione were facing him and opened the compact.

"Hi L-Lav Lav," he saccharinly said.

"Ron, where the hell have you been?!" came the voice from the tiny mirror. Harry roared with laughter. Hermione giggled. Ron looked at them both pleadingly before looking back to the two-way.

"I'm at Harry's love."

"Funny that Ron, I'm at Harry's too!" the squeaky, tiny little voice replied. "Your sister is here with me. She would like to know just where in the hell her husband is as well!"

Harry's smile dropped at that. He began to feverishly make hand signals to Ron, trying to tell him not to say that he was in the room. He pretended not to see the odd look that Hermione was giving him.

"Well...I, um...me and Harry stepped out for a bite. I was at his office, you see..."

Ron still couldn't lie for shit.

"And um...Harry had to step away. A case. Big case happened and I...uh..."

"Are you lying to me Ron?"

Ron spluttered a few times, trying to deny the accusation before just giving up completely.

"I'll meet you at the flat Ron," was all the reply that came back. The mirror then ceased its glowing and Ron closed it.

"Well it's been fun, gotta go," he said hurriedly.

Hermione chuckled. "Oooh, someone is in trouble. Wonder if she'll spank you?"

"Oh shut up Hermione!" That made her giggle harder.

"Nice leash. Small too. You can even use it to put your lip gloss on. When did you get it?" Harry asked him.

"Lavender gave it to me yesterday. Said that we needed to be able to reach each other now that the wedding was so near."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"As though you can talk Harry! Ginny gave you one too!"

"And I finally got the bollocks to get rid of it years ago."

Hermione looked at him quickly and asked, "You did?" When Harry replied that indeed he had she gave him a smile of approval. "Good on you, Harry!" Harry's chest puffed out at the compliment.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ron darkly muttered. "But Harry's already married, I'm trying to get there. I need to be home before Lavender makes it or there will be hell to play."

Ron walked up to Hermione and gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek. Harry told himself if was brotherly, anyhow.

"I will see you later, yes?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Harry," Ron said, acknowledging his best friend. Harry playfully turned his cheek to him waiting for his kiss too. Ron walked out the patio door muttering a dozen or so dirty insults concerning Harry under his breath. Once outside he disapparated away.

Harry and Hermione weren't in the kitchen by themselves for long. Soon Glinda came in saying that she had an hour left before she had to pick up Felicity from school. Harry was shocked to realize that it was the late afternoon and they had all frittered away the day. Glinda called out her husband's name and Fred came gamboling into the room.

"Blondie, you have an anti-app on the house?" he asked her.

Hermione pointed to Harry. "Blame Super Auror here."

"She needs some protection, doesn't she?" Harry defensively said.

"Whatever," said Fred as he walked up to Glinda and scooped her up in his arms. Glinda squealed like a school girl. "Come wench!" As they walked out of the door Glinda promised to floo Hermione later. Fred called out that it would be much later over his shoulders. Harry and Hermione both awkwardly blushed at the loaded statement.

Charlie and George then walked in the room.

"Where did Fred and Glinda go?" Charlie asked.

"Home," Hermione answered.

"And if I were you I would wait at least half an hour before popping off there," Harry advised. Fred and Glinda were pretty notorious for shagging right on the living room carpet where just anyone could floo or apparate in to see.

Charlie rolled his eyes skyward. "I've never met a randier married couple then those two. I'm surprised that they only have Felicity the way they carry on." Charlie shook his head.

"Come home with me then," George offered.

"Ron and Lavender are there," Harry told them.

"Yes. Poor Lavender feels neglected apparently," Hermione said with all of the innocence of a black widow spider.

Charlie sighed. "Well, I guess its off to mum and dad's for a bit," he said to George. Harry and Hermione laughed. "I hope you don't mind if I knick a few pomegranates from you Harry. I hear that they are the best."

Harry said that he didn't mind at all. Charlie had never been to the Hollow himself, but all those who had always bragged on his tree and the plethora of delicious fruit it bore year round.

"Funny how everyone seems to leave while the living room looks like a sty," Hermione tartly reproached them all

Charlie and George coyly averted their eyes from her causing her to shake her head.

"I'll take care of it for you," Harry said helpfully.

Hermione grinned at him. "My hero."

George whispered to Charlie, loud enough for the benefit of the room, "Ever seen such a brown nose?" Charlie tried not to laugh, especially when Harry gave them both such a withering look, but it was pointless.

Harry didn't care what they said. He couldn't leave the huge mess for Hermione to clean alone. And it was all his fault that everyone converged on her anyways. Cleaning up the living room was the least he could do. Besides one of the perks that came with being a wizard meant that it would only take a minute or two.

When he was done he walked back into the kitchen where he found Hermione sitting on top of the counter on the left of the double basin sink. George was leaning into her, whispering in her ear. Something he said made her laugh girlishly and she gave him a playful smack on the arm. George would have been ashes if the Potter Death Glare was strong enough.

"Hem, hem." Harry was trying his best to remain cool and calm. The two of them look towards him. George smiled brightly while Hermione, seeing his strained smile, gave him a puzzled look.

"Pretty good Umbridge there Harry. Next time just try it with a tad more sexual frustration," George advised as he stood up straight and leaned in to give Hermione a kiss on the cheek. If that wasn't bad enough he had the gall to then give the other cheek a kiss as well.

"Make sure you come to the store sometime this week," he said to her.

"As long as nothing gives me a black eye," she quipped. George, in feigned solemnity, promised on his honor to make sure of it. He then cordially waved at Harry before walking out on to the patio. After that the sound of two separate disapperations was heard as well as the dog barking.

For awhile silence filled the sunny cottage kitchen. Hermione still sat atop the counter, her legs swinging back and forth while Harry stood across from her in the doorway. It was nothing short of awkward and yet not unpleasant. They were alone together, his longing glances ultimately betraying his carefully relaxed pose, and the rapid breathing he was trying to control. His eye was captivated by Hermione's absently swinging leg and the naked feet that kept banging at the cabinets below it. He silently wondered how she could be breathing so steadily and look so relaxed when he was over here all but dying inside with the need to touch her.

"So," she said as her eyes locked with his for a moment then skirted away.

"So," he mumbled as his eyes did the same.

"I think..."

"Maybe we should..."

They both stopped and laughed as they realized that they were talking over each other. Harry came further into the kitchen and stood in front of Hermione.

"So did you enjoy our little makeshift housewarming?" he asked as he rested a hand on the counter next to her.

"It was alright I guess," she nonchalantly said as she turned her eyes towards the ceiling pretending to be bored.

"Just alright? You even looked like you were enjoying laying into Ron again."

"Rather like riding a bike. I guess you never forget," she kidded. "Although I think I would have much preferred a nice kip then sitting around with you lot."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Harry joked.

"Doth not," she practically purred in such a naughty manner that Harry felt himself harden in his pants. How the fuck does she do that? he wondered. He leaned in closer to the cabinet in case she chose to look down.

"So, did you clean up in there?"

He gave her a winning smile. "That I did," he said, very proud of himself. "All the trash was vanished."

"And what did you do with all of your mum's dishes?" The cupboards and closets were still filled with his parents' linens, dishes, flatware and the like and he gladly gave Hermione permission to use whatever she needed until she bought more of her own.

"Sent them to their proper places."

Hermione gave him an appraising look. "Very impressive Mr. Potter. I'm pretty surprised that you know cleaning charms. I just assumed that Dobby spoiled you rotten. Dobby and Ginny that is," she said as her lips that were spread in a big smile twitched. She then hopped off of the counter and began to open the cabinet doors and drawers looking for the bowls they had been eating out of and the spoons and forks they used. After finding the cutlery and putting them in the sink she then bent down and looked in one of the cabinets giving Harry a fascinating view of her round, pert bum.

"I never liked using scourgify on dishes myself though. I always found that the cups or plates were still a bit sticky. I always enjoyed cleaning the muggle way. Always helped me relieve tension." She straightened and looked at Harry. "Know what I mean?"

"Huh?"

Hermione shook her head and bent down again as she began to collect the bowls she found. "Cleaning Harry," she said. "Its a good way to get rid of your pent up frustrations, let loose some of your tension. You should try it," she said encouragingly as her lovely behind bobbed up and down before him.

"Yes...frustrated..." he absentmindedly mumbled.

As her sweatshirt began to slowly ride up, inch by inch of her skin was revealed. It was enough to turn him into a babbling Neanderthal. But then his eye caught sight of something that absolutely floored him. As if it had a mind of its own his hand reached out to touch the piece of bare back that was exposed. Although his touch could have only been feather light the infinitesimal moment of contact discomposed Hermione so much that she cried out and dropped the bowls from her hand. As the dishes fell to the floor and shattered in dozens of tiny pieces she wailed in dismay and dropped to the tiled ground. Harry fell to his knees as well and motioned for her to stop picking up the broken fragments with her hand. He reached into his robes and pulled his wand out of its holster and waved it over the debris. Within seconds the bowls were mended as if they were brand new and Harry quickly healed the tiny knicks and cuts Hermione had received on her hands, knees, and legs. Without saying a word, without even looking him in the eye she gathered the bowls to her and hurried them over to the sink. After turning on the water faucet she looked in a few drawers until she found a wash cloth, a towel, and a bar of soap. She didn't realize that Harry had conjured them for her. She just seemed terribly flustered and on edge and looked like she desperately needed something to focus her attention on. As Harry watched her rigid back he could feel the uneasiness rolling off of her. Hermione looked like she was ready to go back to ignoring him again and now that he finally had her to himself he realized that he didn't want that to happen.

"You have a tattoo," he said simply.

She turned the water off and turned to face him. "What are you on about?"

"I hope you're not going to deny it," he exasperatedly said. "Because Glinda saw it too and I don't care what she and Fred are doing right now, I'll floo her and have her confirm it."

She made a sound that meant she was quite put out by him.

"I didn't deny it. I just asked what you were on about," she snootily said. Hermione then turned back around to the sink and sank her hands into the water. "So I have a tattoo. Big deal."

Harry had no idea where he found the balls to ask what he did next, but once the words were out of his mouth he didn't regret them.

"Can I see it?"

Hermione spun around to face him. Her amber-brown eyes went extraordinarily large.

"I, uh...I don't think that's such a good idea Harry."

Harry boldly stepped closer to and never took his eyes off of her own.

"Why not?" he confidently asked. "If its no big deal that you have it it should be no big deal for me to look at it, right?" He winked slyly at her.

One of his hands rested on the counter beside her although he was mindful to give her space. He searched her eyes looking for the response that he was hoping for. Harry saw a bit of sweat bead at her hairline. If he knew his Hermione Granger well enough he was certain that no matter what the woman would not stand down to a challenge. She was stubborn, obstinate, and willful at times and Merlin how he loved those qualities about her! She was willing to stare down anyone for him, be it the Dursleys or Riddle and she never hesitated to take him down when he deserved it too. So now he had thrown down the gauntlet and he was waiting for her reaction. He got it in the form of her stamping her foot down, turning around, and lifting her shirt up.

Although Harry wasn't sure of what he might have done he could only conclude that in another life he had been a very good boy. Sure Hermione only lifted the shirt far enough so that Harry could get a peek at her lower back, but what he did see was heavenly. He even got down on his knees so he could 'inspect' the tattoo closer. When he placed his palm on her skin it seemed to warm to his touch and tremble just so. Oh how he wanted to glide his tongue against the little area where her back dimpled inward! But Harry retained an outward semblance of control and went about the whole thing as though he were just satisfying a mild curiosity. Before the temptation to hoist her up against the sink and take her right then and there on the counter top could play itself fully as it did in his mind he yanked the shirt down and stood up.

"N-nice," he said in a low, thick voice.

She turned around and folded her arms in front of her.

"Nice?!" she asked incredulously.

Harry dumbly nodded his head. "What is it? Looks like a cartoon?"

"It's Bambi."

Harry's blank stare seemed to annoy her.

"Haven't you ever heard of the movie Bambi? Forest fire, dead mum, inappropriately named character named Thumper? Everything thats needed to make a great children's classic?"

Harry only scratched his head.

"Harry really, you were raised by muggles..."

"Yes Hermione, we've been through this enough times before."

She tutted at his remark.

"Well Bambi is a fawn. A baby deer."

"Why would you want to put the picture of a baby deer on yourself?"

"Its not that I wanted it. Its just...I..." she paused trying to explain. "Let's see...how can I explain this properly?"

Realization dawned on Harry quickly.

"You were ripped to the tits weren't you?"

"And how!" Hermione said in shame as she cupped her red cheeks. "One night my stupid roommates and myself were so pissed that we decided to get tattoos. I was moving out and we wanted to have something to always remember each other by." She looked at him anxiously. "I don't know, I think I might have been the one to suggest it."

Harry placed his hands on his knees and bent himself over to laugh. She was just so darned cute when she got that helpless look in her eyes.

"Laugh it up Potter!" she irritably snapped, only causing him to laugh harder. When his laughter settled down she continued with her story.

"We ended up in this dodgy little place in Fort Worth. Amy picked out mine. She thought it would be cute. Benny made her, the tiniest little blue eyed blonde haired Southern Belle you could ever meet, get a skull and cross bones on her shoulder. I'm not even going to tell you where he has 'I HEART MUM' emblazoned for life," she said.

Harry sniggered. "You really are a terrible drunk."

"I know," she said forlornly. "And I do almost everything else so well!" Harry chuckled harder. "Every time I drink I just end up doing something I eventually regret! The last time I..."

Hermione's eyes bulged. It was obvious that she was about to say something that she didn't want Harry to hear. That only meant that Harry would not rest until she told him.

"You what?"

She cracked an innocent smile.

"I think I hear Lizzie calling. Oh Lizzie," she called as she tried to run out onto the patio. Harry blocked her path. She gave him a vexed look before walking back to the sink and leaning into the counter.

"You what?" Harry asked again as he walked up in front of her.

Hermione rolled her eyes before looking down at her feet and mumbling, "I kissed George."

Harry laughed. "I'm sorry, you have to speak louder. It almost sounded like you said you kissed George."

Hermione turned her big brown, guilty eyes up towards him.

"You kissed George?!"

Hermione then decided to channel Ron.

"Just a little."

Harry spit and sputtered in a daze. I'll be a boggart's uncle, Harry thought, Ron was actually right about something!

"Oh relax dad," she said in distaste. "It was no big deal! He kissed me too!"

"Not helping Hermione!"

"We were both drinking Harry! Three sheets to the wind. Banjanxed out of our gourds," she said simply. "And we both instantly regretted it."

"But Ron thinks George fancies you!"

Hermione smiled amusedly. "George? Fancy me? Honestly! I assure you that George Weasley does not fancy me. The look of utter horror on his face after our ill-fated smooch was enough to confirm that fact. If I wasn't already so disgusted with myself my ego would have been severely bruised!"

"Did you kiss Fred too?!" Harry knew he was being a jerk to say it he, but he couldn't control his jealousy. It almost felt like everyone had gotten a chance to kiss Hermione. Everyone, but him.

"As if Fred would have me! I'm nowhere near exotic enough."

This was true. Harry still would have preferred it if she had simply said no.

"I once fancied Percy though, but that was ages before I realized what an arse he was."

"Percy?!"

"Well he was Head Boy! Don't give me that look. The Weasleys are a good looking lot."

Harry folded his arms and shook his head in disbelief. "What's a bloke got to do to get noticed around here? Dye his hair red?"

"Oh, you're attractive too. Sort of. If I tilt my head like this. And squint." And she did just that.

"Cute. Does anyone know about this? The George thing."

"I've never told anyone. Certainly not Ron. And I'm pretty sure George didn't say anything to Fred because if he did Fred would have told his wife and if Glinda knew I would never have heard the end of it. Actually the only person who might have known was..."

"If you say Malfoy..."

"Why would Draco know something like that? No, I was going to say your wife."

Harry was in shock. "Ginny?!"

"It was after one of those little gatherings leading up to your wedding. George and I were out in the backyard sharing a bottle of Absinthe. I don't know what he was drinking to forget but I..."

Hermione's face took on a pained look as her voice faltered and her eyes flickered to his and then darted away. She walked back over to the sink to avoid his eyes.

"It was as we were pulling away from each other that Ginny walked into the yard."

This information absolutely astounded Harry. "What did she say?"

"Nothing. Like I was trying to say before, I was never really sure that Ginny even saw anything. She didn't mention it. She just asked us if we knew where you were and walked back into the house."

Harry released his breath. That made far more sense to him. "She must not have seen. If she did Ginny would have told me," he confidently said. Hermione then mumbled something so unintelligible that had Harry not been paying such close attention to her he might have missed it.

"Like your wife tells you everything."

Harry bemusedly asked, "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." She turned back to face him and smiled. "Unruffle the feathers Potter. All I mean is that wives rarely ever tell their husbands every thing. If they did then all the mystery would go out their marriage. Besides, I'm sure you don't tell your wife every thing. Do you?"

It was time now for Harry to avert his eyes.

"Exactly."

Harry was not amused. In fact he was getting more agitated by the second. There was something about this conversation that just wasn't sitting well with him, but he couldn't put his finger on what it could be.

"So if George doesn't fancy you what was all that whispering about when I walked in on you two?"

"Oh that?" She turned her back to him as she put her hands in the water and began to wash the few dishes in it. "That was just George being a plonker. Asking me if I had come to town to stop Ron's wedding. Honestly."

Although Harry could hear the amusement in Hermione's voice he still flinched at her words. George had actually put it out in the open. George had actually asked the question that Harry had been too frightened to hear the answer to. Because in his mind it all added up. Why else would Hermione come tearing home, after being gone for so long? It made perfect sense to Harry. She had already proved time and time again that when it came to Ron she did things completely out of character for herself. Why not interrupt his wedding ceremony, beg him to take her back, run off with the groom and have a house full of red headed children? Ron had already dumped one bride at the alter, why not go for a second? Because there was no way that he would choose Lavender over Hermione. Harry knew this for certain. What man in his right mind would just throw away the opportunity to be with her?

As all of these thoughts ran through Harry's mind his silence made Hermione turn from what she was doing and look at his troubled, distracted face. Before he could erase the expression that was on it she gasped as her eyes widened.

"Oh my God! You think I came back to stop the wedding! Don't you?"

"Well," he began, unsure at first of how to continue...if he wanted to continue. "Have you?"

Hermione removed her hands from the water and shook them out before using them to cover her mouth.

"Oh my God!" she said again.

"Did you come to England to win Ron back? Is that what you're doing here?" It absolutely killed him to say these words, but he had to know. It wasn't as if he could stop her or change her mind if such was the case. But he had to know!

"I don't know whether to laugh or to hit you." She still sounded as though she thought he were telling her a joke.

He growled at the back of his throat. "And once again you avoid the topic."

"Oh, there's a topic?" she asked in an immensely superior tone that made the hairs on Harry's neck bristle. "I thought you were just stringing along nonsense words hoping to make a coherent sentence out of them."

"You and Ron looked awfully chummy out there on the couch earlier."

"So did Glinda and I. Think I'm trying to get in her pants too?"

Harry ignored the question.

"And you started a fight with him." He folded his arms across his chest. "Trying to relieve some of that old sexual tension?"

"Sexual tension? Are you mad?!" she exclaimed as she searched Harry's face trying to see if he really were out of his mind. "Sure I wanted to knock Ron down, but to strangle him! Not to have my wanton way with him."

Hermione then began to giggle .

"What could possibly make you think that I have any intention of trying to stop Ron from marrying that scatter brained half wit of his?"

Harry shook his head in disbelief at her.

"Well that for example," he said as he pointed at her. "Why are you constantly harping on Lavender? Jealous maybe?"

This accusation only made her giggle more. To the point of hiccups. And tears. Harry was beginning to feel very silly all of a sudden.

"Jealous?!" She said the word as if it were the most improbable thing ever. "Jealous?! Honestly," she dismissively said as she rolled her eyes.

"Argh! I hate it when you take that tone with me," he said in a very frustrated manner. "It makes me very angry."

And horny, a little voice said to him.

"And annoyed."

And horny, it said again.

"And it makes me want to...to..."

Shag the living daylights out of you!!!

Harry tore at his hair as he yowled in aggravation. He turned his back to her and walked towards the kitchen table. He seated himself on the cushioned bench, placed his elbows on the table, and dropped his face into his hands. Now was not the fucking time for his trousers to want to get involved in this!

"Ok," he heard her say in bewilderment. When he looked up again she was standing right beside him. She motioned for him to move over. He hesitated for only a moment before doing so. As she slid over on the bench she looked at him warily, as if she were awaiting his next outburst cautiously.

"I'm not jealous of Lavender," Hermione reiterated as she placed her hands on the table and clasped them together. "I just can't stand the sight of her smug face. And that simpering little way she speaks. And if you ever had to endure her singing in the morning you would swear that there was no God!"

Hermione was warming to her subject now.

"And the way she clings to Ron like a burr! And..."

"But you're not jealous, right?" he asked archly.

"I'm not!" she exasperatedly said. "Just protective. I want the best for Ron just like I want...wanted it for you. But Lavender just isn't good enough for him!"

He asked in a tight, almost hurt voice, "And I suppose you are?"

She pulled back from him, amazed. "Me?" she asked. "I love Ron too much to ever wish myself on him again!"

Harry looked at her in total confusion.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but closed abruptly. She then asked, "Have you ever took the time to ponder on how utterly amazing Ron Weasley is?"

The question completely threw him.

"Ye...no."

She laughed.

"You know you are absolutely adorable when you're mind thinks in two directions at once," she said, playfully nudging his shoulder.

Harry didn't quite know how to take the compliment. After all, infants were adorable. And pixies. And baby jarvies before their mouths got too filthy. Harry wasn't so sure that he liked being called adorable.

"Ron is the best friend to top all best friends," she began. "A partner in crime, a confidant. He's loyal almost to a fault and when he loves you he does it fiercely. Sure he has had his moments, but when he finally grew up he was more then happy to stand behind you, be your support system. Why? Because you needed him. And he needed you. I think that's why I was so upset when you two were acting so cold to each other back during the Triwizard competition. I couldn't stand the idea of anything coming between you two."

Her eyes misted for a second before she shook her head bravely, straightened her shoulders and pressed on.

"Ron didn't care if he didn't have the spotlight as long as you were alright. He stopped caring that others only saw him as second best to you. It didn't matter to him." She lovingly placed a hand on his cheek. "Not like you mattered to him. But it mattered to me," she sadly said as she slowly removed her hand.

"Ron deserved the best kind of love. He used to tell me how he felt lost in the shuffle of his family and he was so accepting of that. It hurt my heart that he could feel that way. So I was determined to make it better for him. I just knew that I could be the one that loved him best. I was certain that it was supposed to be me. And he wanted it to be me so bad. But eventually I realized that we were both wrong."

Hermione sniffed loudly and leaned back on the bench. She wiped a hand across her right eye before folding her arms over her stomach.

"You know how I hate to be wrong about anything," she said as she cracked a smile. Harry returned it as he leaned back as well.

"That's why I fought it for so long. I thought that I could make everything right by the strength of my own will. I mean, I was still attracted to Ron and he still made me laugh. And we never had any problems in the bed..."

At the sight of Harry stricken face Hermione paused.

"Sorry," she sheepishly apologized. She cleared her throat as she sat back up to continue. "It was for these reasons and...others...that I tried to make it work. I tried to force myself to make it work. I kept going back to Ron because I would tell myself that this would be the time that it would work. And there were even times that I almost fooled myself into believing it. But I could never give Ron all of me."

She turned her head and held his gaze intensely. "Does that make sense?"

Harry only nodded his head. He was bowled over by all that she was telling him.

"The truth is I didn't want to give him that part of myself that I held back. I felt like it was wrong. It didn't belong to him! But the worse part is that Ron somehow knew all of this. He could sense that I stayed with him out of some sense of obligation...fealty. And he was willing to accept even that. That wasn't fair to him! And it wasn't fair to me. That's why Ron and I had to end it finally. That last break-up? Hurt like hell, but it needed to be done because eventually Ron and I would have ended up hating each other. And I couldn't live with that happening. That's why out of all of my regrets that has never been one of them. Do you get me now?"

Harry did. He could now see that the playfulness and easy going atmosphere that he witnessed between Ron and Hermione had no other connotation other then two dear old friends who had finally found peace with one another. If he thought about it they were almost like siblings, laughing, teasing, making each other insanely annoyed. He felt almost foolish for letting his jealousy blind him as it did. Just that easily all of his qualms and insecurities dissolved away into nothingness.

"I do not want to stop Ron's wedding. I want to be there on the day that he marries the woman that he loves. And I'm more then ok with that person not being me."

"Ron told you that he loved Lavender?"

Hermione quirked a smile. "He didn't have to. I saw the way that he looked at her and just knew."

The smile dropped however when she said, "That doesn't mean that I have to like her though."

She got up from the breakfast nook and walked back to the sink.

A lighthearted smile formed its self on Harry's lips. She could be so damned stubborn, he thought to himself.

"No, you don't have to like her," he said as he crossed to her. "But could you cut her a little slack for Ron's sake?" he asked. "Say what you like about Lavender, and believe me I have, she loves our best mate. Religiously almost."

Hermione tutted at the sentiment.

"She laughs at all of his jokes...unfortunately," Harry said, grimacing a bit. "She fights tooth and nail for him when the twins have a go. Did you know she's been to all of his games? Even when he was warming the bench for Chudley."

"Like I was just going to go to some silly match like some lobotomized Quidditch girlfriend and watch a few blokes I don't even know fly into a goal post just to..."

"Hermione!"

"Sorry."

Harry shook his head as he turned her around by her shoulders to face him. "Point is, if you want the best for Ron you are going to have to accept that Lavender might be it!"

Although she was rolling her eyes again he could tell that he was getting through to her.

"Besides, who else will have the big lummox?"

Her lips twitched ever so slightly and Harry knew he had her beat. His grin widened.

"You just hate it when I'm right, don't you?"

"I don't hate it," she said as her eyebrow arched upward, "it just happens so rarely that it gives me pause is all. Hmph!"

"Whatever. So you will lay off of Lavender?

Hermione held her right hand up, palm facing forward. "Starting tomorrow I will never say another disparaging word against that blonde, big breasted, bubble headed blabbermouth."

Harry was impressed by the alliteration, but he still gave her a disappointed frown.

"What?! I said tomorrow!" She put her hand down.

He tried his best not to laugh although he found it a very difficult task. Hermione smirked and went back to the sink.

"But when you're made the godfather of little Lilac Weasley just remember that I was the only voice of reason through out all of this."

At this Harry did laugh. Not just because he found it humorous, but because he could also see Lavender picking out the name and Ron stupidly going along with it.

Hermione picked up the towel and held it out in his direction. Harry, understanding the gesture, unzipped his work robes and laid them over the table. He also took off his holster. Harry then rolled up his dress shirt sleeves, walked over, and took the towel. He noted the appraising look she had been giving him as he took off his robe and almost fooled himself into thinking that she was checking him out.

Hermione began to wash the assorted dishes as she handed them to Harry to dry. As he dried each one he put them in their appropriate drawer or cabinet. In comfortable silence they went about this little chore although every time Hermione handed him a bowl or a spoon and their hands brushed up against each other Harry had to wonder if it the electrical charge he felt was all a part of his psychosis, his wishful thinking. To take his mind off of this he tried to make pleasant conversation.

"So," he said glancing at her sweatshirt, "Longhorns do it better?"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and a mischievous smile pulled at the corner of her lips.

"Are you asking me or propositioning me?"

Harry nearly fumbled the last bowl in his hand. It was almost hard to believe he had once been a world class Seeker. When the bowl was safely in its cabinet he took a peek at her smug, pleased smile and, deciding to throw caution to the wind, figured that as long as Hermione was in this happy-go-lucky little mood he would test the boundaries of it.

"You're flirting with me."

It was more of a fishing experiment then a statement. Harry was beginning to notice an interesting pattern. Whenever he and Hermione were in the company of others he could practically touch the wall that she put up between him and herself. Ron was right, she did come off rather distant. But to Harry she might has well have been on the other side of the Great Wall of China. It was as if she would rather focus her attention on anyone but him. But when they were alone? When it was just the two of them whatever barrier she tried to erect didn't stand a chance against Harry and Hermione doing what they did best, just being Harry and Hermione. And truth be told she had been a bit flirty with him. Then again he had been acting like she was a pot of honey and he was a bumblebee sniffing about. He really had no room to talk.

Hermione's self-satisfied smirk quickly dropped and she looked at him as though he had whispered that there were a cell of Death Eaters in the next room.

"What?!"

"It just seems like you're flirting with me, is all," Harry said coolly although he could feel his feet sweating in their boots.

She turned her head from him and said briskly, "Don't be silly Harry." She continued to wash the same spoon over and over again.

Harry was terribly put out. She completely dismissed the idea that she could possibly flirt with him, find him attractive. What was so wrong with him?

"What's wrong with me?" he asked childishly.

"Oh Harry, you're still fanciable." Although Harry should have been pleased with the compliment the fact that she barely glanced at him when she said it spoke volumes to Harry. She thought he was good looking, just not to her. Just not for her.

"You used to flirt with Malfoy," he accusingly said.

Hermione scoffed. "I never flirted with Draco, he would flirt with me."

"Malfoy would flirt with a bowl of cornflakes if he thought it would get him somewhere. But you," he peevishly said eying her up and down, "you used to encourage him."

"I nev-"

Harry turned to face her fully and gave her a piercing look.

"Maybe I flirted a little," she conceded. "But that was how Draco and I got along. That was our thing," Hermione said, trying to explain her position. Harry wanted to kick something. Preferably Draco Malfoy's fat head. "That and witty banter. You and I," she warily eyed Harry before turning back to the sink, "we never had that."

"Witty banter?"

"No. Flirting. That...that was never a part of our relationship. It wasn't our 'thing'." She turned back to the dishes.

Harry looked at her wondrously. "We had a 'thing'?"

Hermione gave him an incredulous look. "Of course we did."

The answer pleased Harry and he smiled to himself. Of course they did.

Just not the thing he wanted, Harry wistfully sighed.

"So the shirt," Harry said, trying to clear his mind of his unrequited feelings and referencing her sweatshirt again.

"It's the University of Texas," she said as she turned towards him and smoothed down the front of it. "A friend of mine went there. I can't tell you how glad that I'll never have to go to another Shootout as long as I live."

Harry looked at her quizzically and she explained, "It's this football game. I went to it almost every year. Not like our football, mind you. Then again all sports are the same to me."

"So was it Amy or Benny?"

Hermione wrinkled her brow and said, "Excuse me?"

"The friend," Harry said, trying to make himself clear as he leaned into the kitchen counter. "You said a friend went there."

Hermione blinked her eyes at him before turning away from him.

"Neither," she said in an even, nonchalant tone that grated on Harry's nerve. She then hopped up on the counter on the other side of her basin.

"I actually took some courses there myself," said Hermione.

Whereas a moment ago he had been irritably wondering if this 'friend' of Hermione's was this Collier person, who made her go to football games and had called her an obscenely amount of times, this revelation piqued his interest.

"Really?"

She nodded. "I was considering actually becoming a full fledged teacher but I...I just couldn't find the time. But I did enjoy a lot of my classes. American Literature, anthropology, a simply divine art history class...the professor wasn't that bad either," she said as she smiled naughtily. Harry simply rolled his eyes.

"A psychology course or two," she continued.

"I thought you hated psychology," he asked curiously.

"No, I said I hated a psychologist," she primly informed him. "I never saw a good reason to hold that against the entire field, hmm?" She eyed him inquisitively. "Like you obviously," she said. "What happened to you, a therapist told you that you had an Oedipus complex or something?"

Although Harry knew that she must have made one of her little jokes judging by her saucy grin, he shook his head and ignored it.

"I saw a psycho-therapist," Harry frowned, "Psycho is the operative word. I only saw the git once."

Hermione's smile fell as she looked at him worriedly. "Why? What for?"

Harry nearly beat his head into the counter top. Good going Potter, he practically shouted at himself.

"Oh nothing," he said casually and tried to smile innocently. "Just some dreams I was having."

"Oh?" Since Harry was smiling she smiled as well. "Sounds interesting. What were they about?"

"Hmm?"

"The dreams," she said, "what were they about?"

Harry's mind clouded over . Your lips. Your hair. The way you giggle when I kiss the pads of your feet. The moan that escapes your throat when your back arches just so...

"I rather not talk about it," he said as his eyes embarrassedly darted away from her own. He missed the frown that settled on her face. "It doesn't matter anyhow."

Harry hadn't actually had another one of those dreams since the night before Ron's party. That made for three days now. Although they had driven him to the point of madness and distraction Harry now found himself missing them terribly. But in a way it was a blessing in disguise. Ginny had moved back into their bedroom, permanently it would seem.

"Alright," she said, voice unsure, as she looked at him warily. "So this therapist was of no help to you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not much."

"That's a shame." Hermione said. "I actually find a lot of merit in the field. I've read quite a few books, especially on dream analysis."

"I have too," Harry said dismissively. "Dream books, oneiromancy..."

"Oneiromancy?! Oh Harry," she said giving Harry a rueful look.

"It's a legitimate field!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm talking Jung, Alder, Perls, and Freud Harry, not Sybil Trelawney doused in cooking sherry!"

Looking at the bewildered expression on Harry's face Hermione sighed.

"Have you never heard of Sigmund Freud?" When Harry answered "no" Hermione continued. "Some people like to think of him as the father of modern psychology. He had a whole theory about dreams," she explained. "He believed that nothing we did occurred by chance, that our unconscious selves motivates every action we make. When you repress all of your urges and impulses, generally those of a sexual nature, they have to manifest themselves in some way, right?" she asked him.

"So they do it in dreams," Harry said.

"That's right. But he was a bit of a pervert. To him everything was about sex, sex, sex."

Harry gulped anxiously.

"But then there is the Jung school of thought," she continued. "Where as Freud saw everything as sexual and animalistic, Jung saw dreams as being more spiritual. That our dreams provided us with what could make us whole."

"I...I like this Jung fellow," Harry said in a slightly strained voice.

"I kind of like that Jung fellow too," Hermione said with a small smile.

"You know a lot about dreams."

Hermione's smile wavered, but held. "I've had a bit of a vested interest in them you could say."

"Well let's say this...I don't know...random bloke had been having these dreams," Harry said as he came closer to her. His face then paled. "These very detailed dreams. And lets say that all of a sudden they just stopped." He looked her in the eye. "What do you make of that?" he asked.

"Are we talking hypothetically or are we talking you?"

"Just humor me Hermione," Harry said huffily.

Stifling her giggles she said, "Well 'Hypothetical Man'..."

A giggle escaped.

"He must have achieved his goal. Yes?"

"No."

"Alright then. It sounds like his unconscious mind is trying to motivate him into action. Kind of like a rat in a hamster wheel chasing after a piece of cheese. He knows what he wants, it's his job to go get it now."

Harry pulled away from her as he pondered the meaning behind her words.

"So Harry, if you want to go and live out your dreams of being some Rock God, and borrow my stilettos, call yourself something foppishly outrageous like Ziggy Glitter and nancy about in nothing but a pair of assless chaps; Ron and I will support you a hundred percent. We'll be right behind you all the way."

Harry's mouth dropped open at the sight of her serious face and oddball words. He almost asked her if she were feeling well, but when he saw the merry glint in her eyes he couldn't help but smile.

"Well, maybe not Ron. But can you blame him? Assless chaps Harry? Honestly!"

"You know you've developed entirely too much cheek since you've been gone."

She giggled and her nose wrinkled in the most precious fashion.

"I think," he said giving her an ominous look that made her rear back on the counter, "something needs to be done about it." His fingers glided over the edge of the basin as he neared her. "In fact," Harry said as he dipped his hands in the luke warm water that filled the sink, "I think you need to be taught a lesson. Don't you?"

"Harry," she said as she raised her hands before her, "whatever you are planning, stop it. Or I'll...I'll..." she warned. This only earned her an impish grin from Harry.

"Or you'll what?" he asked as he flicked water out of the sink at her causing her to shout.

"Harry stop!"

"Can't," he said as he sent more water at her, soaking her shirt and letting little drops roll down her legs. She hollered again. "You were going to do something to me, remember? I wanted to hear what it was." Once again he flicked the dish water at her as he moved closer.

Hermione tried scooting herself as far on the counter as she could to get away from him. "Harry Potter if you don't stop..." she said cried through a mix of indignation and mirth. He splashed her again.

"I can do this all night," he playfully responded to her idle threats as he suddenly lurched forward and grabbed hold of her wrists, pulling her flush to him.

"Stop, stop," she giggled madly as she tried to ward him off . "You're making me all wet Harry!" she scolded him as her knees, in what seemed an unconscious move, came up about his hips and pressed Harry even closer.

And thats when everything stopped. The foolery, the failing limbs, the ringing laughter. Everything came to a grinding halt. Everything except both of their ragged breathing as the realization of the position they were now in began to slowly seep in: Harry, between Hermione's legs, as the throbbing, pulsing muscle in his pants pressed against her.

Hallelujah! For Harry, it was as if a choir of seraphim had peeled back the roof of the house to sing down upon him. The sensation of being wrapped in Hermione was so powerful, so strong, so utterly mind blowing that Harry gave into the dizzying feel of it and rocked himself against her. The immediate result produced a shudder in Hermione that seemed to travel the length of her body. As if exerted from the force of it her eyes closed and her head lolled back. A whimper escaped her parted lips. That was when Harry suddenly realized that he was going to kiss her, right then, right there. He didn't care about the consequences. He didn't care about Ginny. He didn't even care if Hermione was going to stop him. He just knew that if he let this opportunity go to finally find out if she tasted like strawberries, like she did in his dreams, he would without question go mad.

With his hands still wrapped about her wrists he gently eased her towards him as he began to lower his head. As his lips began to hover over hers Hermione languidly opened her eyes of deep dark golden amber, their eyes locked and Harry felt himself wanting to fall in them and loose himself to the deluge.

It was at this time that Lizzie decided to interrupt.

The sudden impact of a weight being thrown against him startled Harry and threw his hazy mind for such a loop that he instantly dropped Hermione's wrists and stepped back from her. This movement gave Lizzie ample opportunity to rear herself up on her hind legs and rest her paws on Harry's chest as she leaned against him. Her pink tongue hung out as she panted, in a warm mannert, and her bobtail swished back and forth. Harry tried to gently push the dog off of him, but Lizzie, thinking that they were playing a game only barked affectionately. She even tried to take a few loving licks at his face.

"Lizzie down!" Hermione called to the dog in an authoritative, as well as slightly disgruntled tone. At the sound of her master's voice the dog dropped down to all fours and obediently padded towards her, her tail wagging low. Hermione hopped off of the counter and dropped to her knees as she put her arms around Lizzie's neck. Subsequently she also hid her face from Harry's view in the thick of Lizzie's fur.

"She saw that we were playing a game and she wanted to play too," Hermione crooned to the dog in a babyish voice. "Didn't you girl?"

As if on cue the dog barked making Hermione giggle. Her eyes then looked up at him.

"Sorry Harry, as soon as she sees a little rough housing she wants to jump in."

Rough housing? Is that what they were calling it these days?

"She must have come in and saw you and I playing. She just tends to get carried away. Don't you girl?"

Harry distractedly ran his fingers through his hair and tried to get himself, all of himself, under control. As his breathing returned to normal he cast his eyes about him to see if he was actually standing inside the kitchen or if his physical body was some place else. For a moment he had to honestly question himself if the 'not quite kiss' had actually just happened or if it was just another fantasy running away from him. Did he just loose himself again? Had his stressed out mind turned simple horseplay into some longed for heated encounter? The citrus smell of her perfume that lingered on his fingers, was he imagining it? Harry actually contemplated pinching himself. Maybe he was still hallucinating. He looked at Hermione, who seemed intent on ignoring him in favor of the dog, to see if anything was amiss. Her eyes flickered to his nervously and just as quickly skirted away. And Harry knew.

She's going to pretend that nothing happened, his frantic mind shouted. She's going to pretend that I wasn't about to kiss her just now. She's going to pretend that she wasn't going to let me. Because without a single doubt, as soon as Harry looked into her eyes right before the goddamned dog came between them he knew that she was going to allow him to kiss her. Maybe she got caught up in the moment. Maybe she replaced his lips with a pair of her own imagining and forgot that it was him, Harry, wedged between her thighs. Harry didn't know which it was. But what he was terrifyingly certain of was the fact that Hermione, for whatever reason was going to act as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened between them. Harry was so distraught that he almost hauled her up by the shoulders and begged her not to do that to him.

"She's probably hungry, poor thing. It's a wonder there isn't dog puke everywhere seeing as how George seems to think that they can eat just any old thing."

Although she was technically talking to him Hermione's was speaking towards the dog.

"I should go change and take her for a walk. Stop off at the grocers and pick up a few things for us to eat tonight and tomorrow morning. Would you like that girl?"

"Let me go with you," Harry said eagerly as he took a step towards her. Hermione stood up and Lizzie, looking back and forth between them and somehow sensing the unease in the room, trotted out of the kitchen and into the living room.

"I don't think that's such a good idea Harry," she said as she followed the dog into the other room. Harry ran back to the table to scoop up his things before following her.

"It's late and you should go home," she continued as he entered the living room. "I'm sure Ginny will be worried," she said as she stood in front of the stairs. Lizzie had laid herself out on the love seat.

Harry wearily sighed. Ginny. It really all came back to Ginny, didn't it?.

"Was she terribly upset about me keeping you?" Hermione asked him as he walked up to her.

"Not really," he replied. Although Ginny had been half asleep when he slipped into bed in the early hours of the morning she had been awake enough to ask him if he had been out with Hermione. After hearing his answer and telling him to say hello for her the next time, she promptly rolled over and went back to sleep.

"She asked after you though." Harry noticed the very briefest flicker of disbelief light her eyes but made no mention of it.

"I'll have to floo her or...something," she said, her face inscrutable.

"Yes," Harry uneasily said, "you do that." Of course inside his head he really hoped that she didn't. He had yet to tell Ginny where Hermione was going to be living now. That was a conversation that Harry was really looking forward to. Wanting to avoid all thought of Hermione and his wife being anywhere near each other he tried to dispel the awkwardness of the mood that was settling about the them.

"So," he said in a jovial voice that belied the truth of things, "what are we doing tomorrow?"

Following his lead she said in a lighthearted tone, "We, as in you, are going to work." This made Harry scowl at her.

"I will not be blamed for you slacking off your duties," she said prissily. "Meanwhile we, as in I, will drop by the Ministry later."

The thought of Hermione coming by his job almost made him smile until she added, "I'm coming to see Draco."

"What do you want to see that git for?" he fairly snarled. She showed him just how intimidated she was by his outburst by rolling her eyes.

"Well the git was a good friend of mine once. I hope he still is seeing as how I've been in England for nearly three days and have yet to call on him. I'll never hear the end of it!"

"Well you won't find him at the office," Harry said petulantly. "The bastard requested a few days of leave in the middle of a big case! Said he had some important matters to take care of, but if you ask me he's holed up there at Lovegood House. I stopped by early this morning as well as yesterday to discuss matters with him, but that demented old house-elf of Luna's wouldn't let me in the door."

"Is this the same case you were discussing with Charlie," she asked curiously, an inquisitive light coming to her eyes that made Harry want to hex himself.

"Hermione," he said warningly.

Her eyes nearly popped at him in surprise at his tone. "What?"

"It doesn't concern you, do you hear me?" he asked. Although he was being harsh about it he wanted her to understand fully that he didn't want her sticking her nose into this case. He didn't even want her to know Cadmus' name. "I want you to drop it about the case. It's none of your business. Are we clear?"

"Alright, alright," she said, aggrieved. "No need to get tetchy."

"I can't help it when it comes to you," he said as a reluctant smile formed on his lips. "Which reminds me," he said as he reached into the pocket of his robes, "I have something for you."

"Ooh, a present?!"

"In a manner of speaking," he remarked as he withdrew the long, maroon satin box from out of the pocket it was in. Tiny little moonstones were stitched into the top and it had a clasp made of pure gold. He proudly held it before Hermione. The reaction he got was less then stellar.

"A wand box," she said dully. "Some girls get diamonds and I get a wand box," she sassily quipped.

"It's a lot more then just a wand box," said Harry.

"Well as sweet as the sentiment is Harry, if you recall I..."

"...threw your wand away," he finished for her. "I remember everything you've ever said to me," he offhandedly said. The effect of his words however caused her cheeks to bloom pink and he wondered just what could have produced such a rosy flush. Whatever it was he would give anything to see it happen again and again and again. Instead he said, "Open it."

She took the box out of his hand, opened the clasp, and pulled back the lid.

"A wand," she said. She removed the wand from its maroon velvet lining and held it up in her free hand. "You bought me a wand?" she asked bemusedly.

"I bought the box. I've had the wand for quite awhile," he cryptically said.

Although his words obviously stumped her she wasn't immune to her own inquisitive nature. Her brow wrinkled as she curiously examined the magical rod in her hand.

"Well, it's a good quality wand as far as I can see. Hardly a knick or a scratch. I would say that this wand was well loved."

Those words made his heart swell happily.

"Looks about 9...10 inches maybe. My wand...my old wand was a little more then 8."

"It's a willow."

"Oh, those were supposed to be excellent for charm work."

"I know, Mr. Ollivander told me so once," Harry said. "The wand belonged to my mum."

The admission made Hermione's eyes swiftly look to his and her jaw drop down.

"How? When? What? Harry!"

Harry chuckled at the flabbergasted look on her face.

"I found it, years ago, at Grimauld. My dad's wand too."

She still looked at him as though she expected him to tell her any moment that it was all some elaborate hoax, but when those words didn't follow she slowly closed her mouth and closed the wand back in its box.

"I can't take this Harry," she said as she tried to hand it back to him. Harry's hands did not budge from his side.

"Yes you can and you will," is all he said.

"Harry I haven't used a wand in four years. I...I'm not sure I would even remember how to," she protested.

"Of course you would. Because you were born to this," he said, motioning to the wand box. "It's who you are. No matter how much you try to deny it you will always be the greatest witch of your age."

Harry watched her as his words sunk in. He saw the the trepidation in her eyes, but he also saw the way both of her hands tightly crushed the box to her chest.

"Now I'm not telling you that you have to use it. Just...if you step out the house keep it your handbag or something. Put it up on your bookcase when your home. I just...I just would sleep better if I knew that you had it."

Harry wouldn't actually be able to rest really unless Hermione was somewhere he could see her from dusk 'til dawn, but the wand was a nice compromise. He had kept it, as well as several other mementos locked in a safe in the basement of his and Ginny's house since the day they moved into it. Ginny didn't even know the contents of the safe. Although he knew that Hermione seemed adamant about living this muggle-like life of hers he felt compelled to give her his mother's wand just in case she needed it to protect herself. Because no matter how hard he tried to push the fears from his mind the fact that Hermione looked so much like Harmonia Cadmus absolutely terrified him. There were the obvious differences between the two women of course. Harmonia was a pureblood, Hermione a muggleborn. Harmonia had been a Ravenclaw, Hermione a Gryffindor. Harmonia had sleek, long, rippling brown hair. At the moment Hermione's barely reached her shoulder and was a rich blonde tone. And then there was the most glaring difference of them all, Harmonia had been dead for 75 years. But to a psychopath like Ptolemy Cadmus, who had obviously lost touch with reality long ago, what would a little thing like death mean? He doled it out so casually anyways. Just what would happen if he caught sight of a pretty young woman whose face resembled that of the child whose murder set him on his destructive path? What would he do? What actions would he take? It could be argued that there wasn't a witch or a wizard in Great Britain who didn't know Hermione's face and that had Cadmus any intention of doing anything to her he would have done it already. But from the case file they had, the case file that Harry had combed over and over again for the last few days, Harry wasn't so sure if Cadmus had even stayed in England after he murdered Harmonia's muggle husband. It would have happened right around the end of the war, before all of the publicity, before all of the scandals. Maybe he had never seen Hermione's face before. Maybe he didn't even know that she existed. What happens when he does?

I'll kill the son of a bitch if even harms one hair on her head.

"Just take the wand Hermione. Humor me, please."

She searched his eyes, looking for what Harry didn't know, but after the smallest of pauses she said, "Alright, I'll take it."

Harry exhaled gladly. "Good."

"Good," she said in return.

"Well then..."

"Um...yes..."

"I guess I should leave you and Lizzie to your walk."

"I guess," she said as her eyes lowered and she studied the floor.

"Um...do you think," Harry began uncertainly, "I could visit you tomorrow."

Her eyes looked up and met his.

"Evening, that is. After work." Harry held his breath, praying that she didn't turn him down. He could see the look of apprehension in her eyes.

"I don't..."

"Ron can join us," he quickly said to stall her from telling him no. "Or we could go see Remus. I'm sure he would love to see you. And you could see the baby."

Hermione's eyes brightened at the prospect.

"That sounds like fun. Of course you can stop by. This is your house after all."

"I wish you would stop saying that," Harry said, put off. "I want you to think of the cottage as your own."

"Well I would like to," said Hermione matter-of-factly as she placed her free hand on her hip, "but someone refuses to tell me how much the monthly is going to be."

Harry pulled a face. "I am not charging you rent Hermione."

"I can't just live inside you house like some...some...squatter Harry. Like some vagabond. It just won't feel right unless I pay you something."

"Pay me? What could you..."

Harry stopped himself from continuing. A brilliant idea had just come to him.

"Do you still knit?" he asked.

She looked at him skeptically. "I...Yes. I actually got quite good at it."

"Remember those hats you used to make for the kitchen elves?

"Yes," she said unsurely. "Harry where are you going with th..."

"Dobby used to love those things."

She gave him a disbelieving look.

"He did!" he insisted. So here's the deal. You make Dobby a new cap a month and we'll be squared."

"Harry!"

"And while I'm feeling power hungry, throw in a matching scarf as well."

Hermione threw her hand over her mouth to hold her chuckle in.

"My aren't we playing hardball Mr. Landlord," she teased.

With a serious look about him he said seriously, "A bloke's got to do what a bloke's got to do." She smacked him on the shoulder.

"Now you are just being silly."

"So are we agreed?" he asked as he held his hand out towards her. "Ever since I told him that his Hermy Miss was here to stay he's been bouncing off the ceiling."

She regarded his hand for a moment before placing her own in his and shaking it. When her gaze demurely veered from his own he wondered if it was because she experienced the mild charge that sparked in him every time something in his blood called to something in hers. Could Hermione possibly feel it too?

"Agreed," she said as she slipped her hand from his hold.

"So no more your house," he asked.

"But it is your house," she stated.

"But I want it to be your home too. So think of it as...our house," he said brazenly as his eyes locked with hers.

"Our house," she said with uncertainty before shaking her head as though to clear it. A tiny smile appeared on her lips. "Alright then, our house." The grins that they were both wearing could have lit up the whole of Hogwarts.

"I uh...I should get going now," said Hermione as she took a step backward and went up on the bottom stair. "You know the way out," she said and she turned her back on him and slowly began to climb the stairs.

As Harry watched her ascent his mind was going a hundred miles a minute. Our house. The beauty and simplicity in those two words awakened something in Harry so strong that all of his fears and doubts and insecurities seemed to slowly seep away. Our house. Harry had finally found his purpose. He was going to make his dreams come true.

He was going to head out to work early again tomorrow. He wanted to go to the Ministry's Hall of Letters, find anything and everything he could find out about the Olde Rites. Even if he found a loophole the size of a needle's eye he was going to push through it with all of his might. And as soon as he found what he needed he was going to sit down with Ginny and discuss with her just how they were going to make their lives right. Because if he knew that he was unhappy he was sure that she was too. Maybe they could help each other out in this. Maybe they could undo what should have never been done in the first place. The person that Ginny truly belonged with was out there somewhere probably still waiting for her. Harry already knew just where his heart lay. It was time for them to set each other free so that they could be happy. Surely Ginny wanted that, right? And if she didn't? Well, Harry would cross that bridge when he got there. As for now Harry was ready to reach out for his happiness with both hands. For years he had believed that if he waited patiently eventually it would come to him. He told himself this after he left the Dursleys, after the war, after he married Ginny but he waited in vain. Now he was ready to take action! Now he was ready to do whatever it took to make himself whole, whatever it took to have Hermione.

And when the time was right he prayed that Hermione might feel something for him. Not like what he felt for her. Harry wasn't stupid enough to think that could actually happen. But maybe, just maybe, he could convince her that he could be so much more then just her friend. That their 'thing' could go deeper then friendship. The 'not quite kiss' had been enough to give Harry some hope and for now that seemed the most powerful form of magic there was.

Hermione was at the top of the stairs when Harry called her name. She looked over her shoulder at him apprehensively and turned around fully as he took the steps two at a time. When he reached the step just below the one she was standing on he all of a sudden paused, unsure of what he meant to do. It almost put them at about the same height level and with this vantage point Harry looked her levelly in the eye. He raised his hand to her cheek and tenderly stroked it. He leaned in and left a gentle, wisp of a kiss on her other cheek.

"See you tomorrow Hermione," he said as he pulled back from her and disaperated away feeling a tingling sense of euphoria surge through every molecule in his body. He felt as though he had been asleep for years and suddenly someone woke him up with a stab of adrenaline to the heart. Harry had never felt so alive! In fact his head was so high above the clouds that he never stopped to notice the few teardrops that had melted into his fingertips.

Poor Harry, like it's really going to be that easy. :)

Next chapter features a very Draco/Hermione reunion. Things to look forward to; insults/innuendos, Luna, and a long overdue reveal. Mwahahahaha!

I know I promised the Boadicea resolution, but I decided to ditch it, save it for another time, and let this chapter stand alone (as the peanut gallery releases a sigh of relief...lol).I think it came out better for it. Not great, but what can you do?

Equus asinus is the latin species term for a donkey. Equus caballus is the term for a horse. Augeo is latin for grow. Ron is an idiot, but we love him any way.

The "club" that Glinda belonged to was a Dungeons and Dragons group, just in case anyone cared or didn't get it.

My explanation of Freudian and Jungian dream theory is very rudimentary, but it is the basic premise. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dream_analysis and http://www.dreameducator.com/generic17.html give you a little information.

Since I don't think I ever fully explained the inspiration for Ptolemy And Harmonia Cadmus here is this as well; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cadmus

If you have other questions ya know what to do.

Tell me if you like it. Tell me if you hate it. Just tell me something. Please review.