The Light

JazzyGeorgie

Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 07/03/2006
Last Updated: 12/06/2006
Status: completed

**********CHAPTER 21, (Last Chapter!): No words were necessary for either of them to express their devotion, their love and commitment to each other. For it had been cemented when Hermione first set eyes on Harry over ten years ago and showing this boy how to fix his glasses. But, over those years their feelings and their bond were buried by the events that flew around them--causing Harry to spend more time on surviving then trying to live like a normal child growing into a teenager. *****All seven Horcurxes are destroyed and Voldemort was defeated two years ago. However, a small band of death eaters claim Ginny and Ron Weasley's lives setting Harry and Hermione into a year of sadness and self-healing. A year after their senseless deaths Harry is still struggling with trying to create a life for himself and realizes he needs Hermione's help. On the flip side, Ron and Ginny are watching, waiting and trying to help the two of them make the best decisions they can, without physically interfering. *This story also has Draco, Ginny and a bit of Ron, in it; they parallel Harry and Hermione.*****

Chapters

1. The Darkness

2. Shades of Gray

3. Colorful Conversation

4. Chasing the Blues Away

5. Moving Colors

6. Green vs. Orange

7. Sunlight

8. White House

9. Warming Up

10. Invisible Magic

11. Affectionately Warm

12. White Light

13. Full Spectrum

14. Kaleidoscope

15. An Unlikely Pair

16. Revelations

17. Coming Together

18. The Prophecy

19. Lady in Red

20. Surprise!

21. Tripping the Light Fantastic

1. The Darkness

A/N: I have to give Laura Whitcomb, the author of A Certain Slant of Light credit for coining the term “The Light”. The Light are ghosts which are essentially stuck in the real world, trying to survive by attaching themselves to a “Host” and essentially living with that person. They aren't visible to the living and only their strong emotions can be seen, This is how I hope to portray Ron and Ginny, with my own ghostie twist and thoughts.

Thanks to my very first Beta “Forever Optimistic”!

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The Darkness

The only sound penetrating the cool silence of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was the diligent scratching of a quill and the occasional sound of a sheet of parchment being flipped over, revealing a new unblemished side.

The sun splashed a soft yellow haze over the floor in front of Harry Potter's desk and a very lazy Crookshanks made the patch of sunlight his own, nearly stretching the length of it, oblivious to the sound of the quill. His purr echoed loudly off the stone walls of the classroom, but his mood was strikingly different than Harry's own at the moment.

It was the one year anniversary of the last uprising of a group of rogue Death Eaters; the group that had killed Ginny and Ron Weasley, Zacharias Smith and an elderly wizard who just couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

Harry hoped the writing of the following week's lesson would keep his mind occupied to help him forget the curious and uncomfortable looks of his students. He tried to ignore it, act like June 9th was any other day of the year, but everyone knew that one year ago today his best friend and girlfriend had been killed. The students and a few of the professors simply didn't know how to approach him. He made a comment to his first DADA class of the day, a group of sixth years, about the Death Eaters and the spells they used in their attempt to kill most of the witches and wizards in Hogsmeade. Harry actually heard someone gasp as if they couldn't BELIEVE Harry would say those words on today of all days.

Crookshanks' incessant purring ceased, jarring Harry from the jumble of words on his parchment and for a moment, he stared at the last sentence he had written. Even HE couldn't read his handwriting. Dropping the quill and flexing his fingers, he realized he had a death grip on that quill and the ink had soaked through to the next piece of parchment. All the stress, anger and sadness he held inside flowed out from his hands onto this one piece of paper.

“Bloody hell,” he mumbled to himself casting a cleaning spell, wiping away the words that adorned his latest lesson plan. Pocketing his wand, he leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling as if searching for something. Lacing his hands behind his head, he stretched his torso then relaxed somewhat, trying to summon up the energy to stand up to grab his bag and floo back to Grimmauld Place.

“Harry.”

Harry's eyes shifted to the doorway but his posture remained unchanged as he tried to appear relaxed and unconcerned.

But this was Hermione; she'd know exactly what he was thinking and that he was faking this nonchalant posture. Sighing quietly, he pushed himself to his feet, causing Crookshanks to open a lazy eye at him and yawn widely.

“How were your classes today? Stressful and uncomfortable like mine?” Hermione walked slowly into his classroom, shutting the door behind her. Everything she needed answered was in the quick glance he gave her and the set of his mouth. He busied himself with collecting the parchment for his lesson plans and shoved them into a well worn bag that sat on the corner of his desk. For a moment he rested a hand on the soft brown leather bag. It held tough through two years of teaching and he thought it reflected his feelings at the moment: it had seen better days.

“Hullo, Hermione.” Harry avoided answering the question since he knew they both had the same group of students and the atmosphere was the same in both classes. He knew each student was thinking, depending on whether they were in Transfiguration or DADA, `Harry lost his girlfriend Ginny Weasley a year ago,' or `Hermione lost her boyfriend Ron Weasley this time last year.'

Harry couldn't blame everyone for feeling a bit uncomfortable around them. After all, he wasn't sure if they wanted to hear him say aloud that he knew what June 9th meant or just ignore the fact that it was indeed June 9th.

“Harry? Are you okay?” Hermione's voice took on a more concerned note and her brown eyes ran over his tired form. She was now standing right in front of him, separated only by his desk.

“Sorry…I'm a bit distracted. How're you doing?” Harry made it a point to stop fiddling with his bag and looked at her, knowing she wasn't having an easy time either.

Hermione leaned over and placed her hand on top of which was now still on his bag. She conveyed her concern in that single touch and he appreciated that she was there; and that he wasn't alone.

“I'm hanging in there. Are you going to make it through the rest of the day? It's been a long one, believe me, I know how hard this is for you.”

“Thanks, Hermione…and yes, I'll make it.” He smiled for her benefit and patted her hand, giving it a brief squeeze before he slipped it away and grabbed his bag. Hiking it up on his shoulder, he looked over at Hermione, noticing the circles under her eyes. He knew she didn't sleep well last night either. While he laid in bed staring at the ceiling and thought he'd get up early and floo to Hogwarts, Hermione had still beaten him to school.

“Do you want to order takeout and hang out, or would you rather be alone tonight?” Hermione asked, carefully watching him bend down to scratch Crookshanks who began purring and kneading the stone floor.

“I don't think I want to be alone tonight, but there are a few things I need to do before dinner,” Harry answered, giving the cat one last good scratch before standing up straight. Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he met Hermione's eyes again and saw that she was handling this anniversary much better than he was.

“Why don't you come over around seven or so? I can get Thai and bring it back,” Harry offered, taking a few steps towards her and in one swift move she leaned in and hugged him. Wordlessly, he rubbed her back as she kept a viselike grip around his waist.

“Okay, sounds good.” He could feel her take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You're going to her grave, aren't you?” she asked, her voice muffled against his robes.

“Yeah, I couldn't get away at lunch to do it. You okay?” Harry asked, taking her arms and moving her back so he could see her face. It was clear of any tears but her eyes looked so much older. They had both lived through more than twenty year olds should have; Harry defeating Voldemort with the help of his two friends many times over before finally eliminating him from the magic world. Only to have their best friends and significant others killed roughly two years later.

Hermione gave him a shaky smile, patted his chest and took a step back.

“I'm fine.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “You go visit, I actually got there around lunch time. I'll meet you at Grimmauld around seven then?”

“Sounds good,” Harry agreed placing a quick kiss on her cheek. Squeezing his arm, she returned the gesture then retrieved a sleepy, warm Crookshanks and headed back to her classroom to finish up her plans for the following week.

After another quick glance around his room, he flooed to Grimmauld, intent on changing into non-teaching clothes and heading to Ottery St. Catchpole to visit Ginny and Ron's grave. He would later pay a quick visit to Molly and Arthur. He really wasn't in the mood to be around a large group of people. He dealt with three classes with over twenty students today and was looking forward to sitting with Hermione. He didn't have to hide his true feelings from her. After all, she was going through this right along with him.

------

She had the perfect perspective of watching Harry. His face was turned toward Hermione as they ate Thai food, interspersed with conversation or stories about their seventh year or their first year out of school.

“It's been a year and you think he would've moved on a bit more than he has,” Ron said lounging in mid air next to Ginny, watching Hermione twirl a noodle around her fork and pop it into her mouth.

“It's Harry. He lost everything he loved, including me. It's going to take some hard work on everyone's part, including his to get him past our deaths,” Ginny said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, I know. Hermione seems to be doing a bit better than him though,” Ron observed now watching her place her hand over her mouth as she tried to stifle a laugh with a mouth full of food. He wished he was paying attention to what made her laugh. He noticed she had been doing a bit more of it the past few weeks.

“She laughs a bit more than he does,” Ron said aloud, leaning back against the wall a few inches under his sister.

“Well, Nick did say that everyone takes their own path to healing. He said his friends were almost back to their normal selves in six months.” Ginny floated to the other side of the living room, not disturbing any physical items in her path. Even Crookshanks seemed oblivious to her movements.

“I bet Nick had strange friends,” Ron muttered to himself. Sighing, he shook his head and followed his sister around the perimeter of the room.

“We need to let Harry know it's okay to move on and not hold onto us so tight.” She trailed her fingers along the wall, over the rough brick of the fireplace where she paused. “He needs to know that we are with him, not matter what; in his heart he needs to know that,” Ginny mused aloud, more to herself than to her brother.

“I know that Ginny; that's what we are here for…we could've just gone to the next world but no, you had to get all noble and stay here in this…middle ground…to help them.”

Ginny cut him a look and Ron held up a hand. “Not that I'm complaining. I DO want to see my best mate and Hermione happy. I'm still not quite sure how we can help them achieve that though.”

“Just stick with me. I know what we'll need to do when the time comes.” Ginny was very vague and Ron sighed, after a year still trying to get used to the unemotional sister; and his unemotional self. It was so much harder being human. Here, you just dealt with things and moved on. Very rarely did an emotion come through the Light that would have an affect on the livings physical world. But when it did, it was never more than a slight breeze or a shifting shadow that was there one minute, and not the next.

“You know, Gin, we could try what we did at mum and dad's. That seemed to work.” Ron's eyes followed the empty food containers as Harry magicially disposed of them.

Neither one had appetites, but Ron still remembered how food tasted and he remembered how much he enjoyed that part of his human existence.

“Somehow I don't think making one of the garden gnomes go flying while working in the garden will work on Harry. Mum always said you were the best garden de-gnomer and you managed to prove her point this morning,” Ginny said evenly, watching Harry take off his glasses and rub his eyes. She had tuned out Harry and Hermione's conversation in order to communicate with her brother but at this moment, she wanted to hear what they were saying.

“…it was just hard, Hermione. I think because they were so young and stood by my side so much, and now they're gone,” Harry said quietly setting his glasses down on the sofa next to him. Hermione pulled herself up off the floor and sat next to him, taking his hand.

“Harry, they, we, made the choice to stand by you. That's what friends do. We were so lucky to have known them, to have felt their unconditional love for us. Who else would've done that? Not Seamus, not Lavender…maybe Neville, but definitely anyone with the last name Weasley. It's not your fault Harry. We thought those Death Eaters were safely inside Azkaban…but they're gone now. ALL OF THEM; and we have the Weasleys, Zacharias-,” Hermione said intensely, squeezing his hand trying to get him to believe that the deaths of their friends was not something he needed to carry around.

“You too, Hermione,” Harry interrupted lacing his fingers through hers, but keeping his eyes downcast, taking in the blurry patterns of the carpet.

“Yes, Harry. We all did our part to kill those Death Eaters. I know you feel cheated and that everything you've ever loved has been taken from you. I can totally understand that, but Ginny and Ron went into that battle willingly. They weren't taken by surprise or forced to fight back to defend themselves like your parents. It took me a long time to accept that, about Ron and Ginny. But Harry,” Hermione gripped his hand harder, getting his attention. “I'm still here. I'm not leaving.”

“Thanks Hermione. I know all this.” Harry stared at their intertwined hands in his lap. Reaching behind him, he grabbed his glasses and placed them back on his face so he could see her more clearly.

“Did Katie come try to cheer you up? I must've received three Owls from her today,” Harry said, gently letting go of Hermione's hand so he could stretch behind him and reach for the bag of movies she had set there.

“She did stop by, asking how we both were. She also wanted us to come with her and Fred to the Burrow, but I begged off.” Hermione sensed the subject closing and resigned herself to trying to enjoy the movie. She curled her feet under her, watching Harry go through the motions of starting the comedy she had hurriedly picked out from the video store.

“I sent her an owl back saying essentially the same thing. I feel guilty for not being with everyone, but after talking with McGonagall about it this morning and visiting Molly and Arthur this afternoon…I was all talked out.” Harry flopped back on to his couch; arm stretched along the back of the sofa, and propped up his feet.

“I understand,” Hermione sympathized. “I just wish sometimes…that I had just five extra minutes with Ron so that I could've said goodbye.” Hermione's fingers played with the fringe on the pillow she had in her lap, one that Ginny had picked out and Harry used regularly whenever he fell asleep on the sofa.

“Exactly. But, unfortunately Avada Kedavra doesn't give us five extra seconds.” Harry's gaze rested above the TV. Something in the corner had caught his eye. He wasn't sure if it was a movement, a shadow or just a fly buzzing around but as quick as it appeared, it was gone.

“No,” Hermione resigned sighing heavily, leaning back against the sofa, feeling Harry's hand touch her shoulder. “No, it doesn't.”

Not acknowledging what he saw aloud, he fixed his attention to the movie, shifting his position so Hermione could lean up against him. For the first time that day, Harry felt himself relaxing, distracted by one of the few Muggle objects in the room, his TV, and what was now his best friend, Hermione.

An hour into the movie with a blanket settled around their legs, they were both asleep, helping June 9th pass by a bit more quickly.

-----

“Do you think he saw you?” Ron asked as he followed Ginny down the hallway and through the wall to the street outside.

“No idea. He seemed to look right at me though. We've been following them around for a year, and this is the first time he even glanced in my direction.”

“That's a start. I just wish we could do something more.” Ron paused at the edge of a group of trees, shoved his hands into his pockets and stared up at the stars.

“Part of the rules Ron…we can't do much at all. Once they accept our deaths, Harry especially, they need to move forward, and then we can too.”

“I know…I wish they'd just get on with it. They deserve to be happy…and I can't wait to see what lies beyond this middle ground we're stuck in.”

“We'll get there Ron, don't worry. We just need to help them see the light at the end of this dark tunnel they're in.” Ginny tucked her arm through Ron's as they entered the forest. “And once they see that, then we're free to seek what we want.”

“I know. I remember everything Nearly Headless Nick told us…just because I'm dead doesn't mean I don't remember anything, Ginny.” Ron said. “I remember more than I did when I was alive…the strangest thing though, is not being able to feel much emotion. I look at Hermione and know I miss her, I can say it but I certainly don't feel it as strong as she feels it about me.”

“I know…it helps us to remain focused though. To see what we can do to help them move on. We'll get there Ron. They've had the required year to mourn, think, get angry…all those emotions. Now, it's time to move on.”

Ginny stopped and turned Ron towards her, wishing she could feel the solidness of his arms. Still, she grabbed him above the elbow and stared up into his pale blue eyes. The one thing she missed was the ability to feel what she COULD touch, which wasn't much, but she could still see him and a few of the other Light that moved around. But right now, they were in this alone.

“We'll do this. We'll help them be happy again.”

-->

2. Shades of Gray

Shades of Gray

Harry was in the semi-awake state where he knew his arm was asleep, that he needed to move it but couldn't understand why it wouldn't move. Shifting a bit to relieve his stiff neck he felt a weight resting against his left side and something pushed up against his right hip.

Opening his eyes, finding that his glasses were still on he blinked the sleep away and finally found the source of his pins and needles.

Hermione was curled up between him and the couch, his arm under her neck with his hand resting on her arm. Crookshanks was pressed up against his other side, curled up into a ball, nose tucked under his tail.

Very carefully Harry moved his arm, feeling the blood rush back into his unfeeling fingers. Hermione shifted, her head falling on to his chest, freeing up his arm but he made no move to disengage himself.

For the first time in a week he had a restful night's sleep; he was warm and mostly comfortable but still a tad bit surprised to find himself stretched out on his sofa with Hermione draped over him. Her breathing was deep, slow and even; she was as relaxed as he had ever seen her. Then again, maybe she was always like this when she slept but he had never been in this position with her. Ginny was constantly moving, rolling around in bed, stealing the covers the few times she had spent the night with Harry. Hermione seemed to be a deep, restful sleeper; just like Crookshanks who still hadn't moved an inch.

As Harry stared at the ceiling watching the dim shadows slowly lighten with the rising sun, he felt a twinge of relief that the one year anniversary of Ron and Ginny's death was past. He had noticed Hermione seemed to handle yesterday much better than he did. But today, just in the few moments he was awake…he felt a bit better, a bit more of himself. Whether it was because he had actually slept peacefully or that he was, in fact, insanely comfortable at that moment, Harry truly didn't know.

Hermione shifted slightly again murmuring something sleepily then fell quiet. Her arm tightened around his waist then relaxed. He wondered what she was dreaming about, feeling her snuggle closer. Thinking she might be cold he pulled the blanket up over them and tucked it in the best he could sealing in the warmth. Crookshanks evidently didn't like being stuck under the covers and jumped down stretching lazily and walked out of Harry's line of sight. Harry made the most out of the few more inches he had on the sofa and found an even more comfortable position. Reaching up and taking off his glasses, he used his free arm to drop them behind him onto the side table. Closing his eyes he let the warmth of the blanket and Hermione relax him even further into a satiated state. Soon he drifted off into another dreamless sleep.

-----

Hermione awoke to find herself sprawled out on Harry's couch, but mostly over Harry. She could hear the soft thump of his heart and the unmistakable breathing of someone who was asleep and wondered briefly how she could've slept so long in one position. She was stiff but warm and comfortable. Lifting her head slightly she saw at some point Harry had removed his glasses. His profile was sharp against the soft light that filtered in through the double windows.

He looked so different while he was sleeping. Not counting his glasses, his face had an unmistakable relaxed look. Nothing like the stress and nightmares she heard about through their years at school. He deserved so much to be able to relax while awake or sleeping. He had gone through so much just to ensure that good would prevail over evil and as she let her gaze run over his shadowed jaw and cheeks, she hoped that the beginning of this second year without Ron and Ginny would be a bit better for him. Pushing herself up on her elbow she kept her gaze fixed on his face wondering if he always had such dark, long lashes. His glasses hid so many of the small features of Harry in a way she never realized before.

She saw his eyes open slowly and fix themselves on hers, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“What? Am I drooling or something?” Harry teased in a raspy morning voice. Hermione had the grace to blush, realizing he caught her staring at him. Her gaze traveled down to his mouth then to his hand which was resting on his chest. Moving her eyes from him to the clock on the wall she pushed herself up, squinting at the clock.

7:35am.

“No…just…you looked so relaxed,” Hermione managed stifling a yawn and struggling to sit up a bit more. Harry kicked off the blanket and sat up, scooting down to give her some space feeling the warmth quickly evaporate.

“I'm sorry to fall asleep on you…your couch,” Hermione started, running her hands through her hair.

“Don't apologize. We both fell asleep…something we both needed.” Harry dismissed her apology, forgetting how nice it was to wake up with someone in the morning. An image of Ginny shot through his head then raced away as he grabbed his glasses and stood. “Be right back,” he touched Hermione's shoulder and paused as she looked up. “Don't be sorry. I don't even remember who fell asleep first.” She nodded then stretched her arms as he walked down the hall to the loo.

“Do you want me to make some breakfast or do you want to do that on yourself?” Hermione called from the living room, tucking her shirt back into her jeans, still feeling a bit discomfited that she fell asleep on Harry.

“I don't have any big plans for today, so feel free to stay,” Harry yelled in her general direction as he dried off his hands. Staring at himself in the mirror, he ran his hands through his hair twice before giving up. Hermione had seen him in worse shape, so why should he care? Pushing the door open he walked barefoot into the kitchen where Hedwig was waiting patiently for a treat, eyeing Crookshanks warily as the cat drank water from her bowl on the window sill.

“Do you want to get a shower and meet me at my place? I can go whip up something there. You have nothing much to eat here,” Hermione asked pulling her hair back into a ponytail.

“Yeah, I hadn't gotten around to shopping; wasn't very hungry.”

Hermoine nodded in understanding and watched him refill Hedwig's water bowl, shooing the cat out of Hedwig's perch in the window.

“Breakfast at your place sounds nice. Thanks.” Turning around he threw away his owl's old food and placed the dish in the sink. “And, thanks for listening and being here last night,” Harry continued a bit awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets forcing himself to meet her eyes. “I never said how much I appreciate you being here for me…it's helped.” He saw her eyes light up the way they did when she realized something she did helped make a difference.

“That's what friends are for Harry,” Hermione tried to make her words light but inside she felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. He seemed to be trying to grab back onto his life and pull himself up out of the mediocre life he had lived for a year.

“What do you say,” Hermione asked walking towards him to rest her hands on his shoulders, “after breakfast we go to London and be Muggles for the day? Escape this magical world, shop, do a touristy thing or two?” She searched his face and saw he was seriously thinking about it. His eyes shot to the ceiling as he ran through his head what school work he needed to have finished before school on Monday, then he smiled and Hermione knew his answer before he even opened his mouth. She patted his shoulders then turned to search for Crookshanks.

“Bring your best walking shoes,” Hermione told him, finding her cat under the table.

“What? No flying on my broom?” Harry joked leaning against the counter. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and he gave a small laugh.

“You haven't been on a broom since our first year…I'll get you up before you're old and gray,” Harry teased and she rolled her eyes.

“Good luck, Potter,” and with that she disapparated out of Harry's kitchen, cat securely held in her arms.

----

Ginny sat across from Harry watching him tie his shoes. She got the feeling he seemed lighter, a bit less like the world rested on his shoulders.

“I think it's because he actually slept,” Ron said hearing Ginny's thoughts bouncing around in her head.

“Could be. Or, it could be something else.”

“Like what?”

Ginny shrugged, her eyes following him as he walked to his dresser, pocketed his wand, slid some change into his hand and placed it into his pocket.

“Are we following them to London?” Ron asked standing behind his best friend, his eyes resting with Harry's on a photo adorning the tall dresser; a picture of the seventh year Gryffindor Quidditch team with Harry holding the snitch and Ron holding the cup. They only played for two months, May and June of their seventh year. The hunt for Voldemort and Horcruxes had taken up most of their last year of schooling. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall had let them slide back into the school year, letting them pass nearly all the classes they had been scheduled to take. After all, they had learned so much more than any other student…how to defeat Voldemort.

From Ginny's position she could see the sadness fill up Harry's eyes as they roamed over the picture. Reaching out he touched the frame as if saying good bye the he quietly disapparated.

Turning back to her brother she answered his question.

“No, we aren't going.” Ginny could see a flicker of reminiscence move through Ron's eyes, as he remembered the last time he had played Quidditch with Harry. Reaching out she touched his arm in a supportive, sisterly gesture.

“Nick needs us to explain this type of existence… to a new member. I recieved a message this morning and was told we will probably take a special interest in this case.”

“Really? Who is it? Someone we know?” Ron asked feeling a tingle of excitement, causing Harry's bedroom curtain to stir slightly.

“Probably, but I'm…you'll see…just follow me. We need to be at St. Mungo's within the hour. We'll visit Harry and Hermione tonight if we have time,” Ginny explained passing through the wall to air outside.

“If we have time?” Ron echoed, stopping Ginny with a single movement of his hand on her arm. “Who are we going to see? The last time we explained this to someone it didn't take long until they caught on.”

Ginny remained quiet staring at a point past her brother.

“You know who it is don't you? Why did Nick tell you and not me?” Ron said a whisper of his old whining coming through.

“What? And have you blow out every light bulbthat Harry has in those Muggle lamps of his in anger? No way…you'll see soon enough, Ron. Just…come on.” Ginny shook her arm free and made her way down the street at an amazing pace, heading towards St. Mungo's where their next “student” was waiting to be versed in what it meant to be part of “the Light”.

An hour later Ron stood staring at a pair of familiar gray eyes.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy. What'd you do to get here?” Ron asked in a neutral voice, surprising himself with the lack of hatred that should've bubbled up inside him. Draco Malfoy stared at him then back down at his very still body four feet below them.

“Apparently, I tried to kill myself. At least, that's what I heard a healer say before I came…here. What the hell am I doing here? I assume I screwed up big time.”

“Very hard to commit suicide when you are a witch or wizard; only you could make it look easy,” a breezy voice said behind Draco and he spun around seeing a very pale version of Ginny Weasley.

“Should've known you two would be here together,” Draco said snidely raising a blonde eyebrow; actually having the gall to smirk at the red heads in front of him.

“Don't worry…your rudeness will dissipate the longer you are part of the Light, Draco,” Ginny said evenly. He gaped at her thoroughly shocked she used his first name, then as if realizing he was staring, he recovered, turning his attention back to his prone body.

“The Light?” he managed to ask, but Ron talked right over him.

“So how'd you'd to kill yourself? Couldn't take anymore of your banishment? Nice timing you know, dying on the first anniversary of our death,” Ron professed cutting Ginny a look that held all the meaning in the world. `This isn't going to be fun'.

“Never mind how. I'm just pissed it didn't work. I'm here…I should be…not here.” He gestured to the area around him, clearly confused as to why he wasn't being tended to by many Angels or burning many fathoms below. “And as for being banished to Malfoy Manor, yes, it was pretty much the worst two years ever. Thanks to you, Weasley,” Draco directed at Ron who nodded but kept his mouth shut.

“Don't worry,” Ginny repeated in the same even tone, “your anger will dissipate along with your rudeness. Then you'll be just like us,” Ginny said coming up behind him and peering over his shoulder. “Well, looks like you succeeded. If you really wanted to live, you'd be there, not here. So, what is it you want now? We're actually here to help you.”

“Help me with what? I just wanted to be dead; gone from the hell I was living.” Draco looked at her amazed at how she could look so pale and clear, but he could still make out the red of her hair and the hazel of her eyes.

Ron snorted, then waggled his fingers at Draco as he looked back over his shoulder at the tall red head. He muttered something that sounded close to “freaking git,” before turning back to Ginny.

“Help you with what you need to move onto the next and final world,” Ginny told him in a firm voice, causing him to stare at her, wondering if she was joking.

“What I need to move on from here? I thought I DID that by swallowing that poison. Or, did I really die more than two years ago when I was caught and banished by your lot? Doing nothing but sitting at home listening to my mother talk incessantly about not being able to save my father.”

“Your brave attempt to kill Dumbledore didn't have anything to say about that then?” Ron asked crossing his arms and watching the platinum blond Slytherin struggle with his emotions.

“I was young and stupid,” was all Draco would say watching as his mother walked in and sat down beside him, taking his hand. Turning he walked out of the room, with Ron and Ginny following.

“Blimey, Ginny…this isn't going to be easy. He really doesn't know what he wants does he?” Ron followed him with Ginny close behind.

“That's our job. Help him make the decision. Help him find the strength to move on from here to the next world. We can't do it for him.”

----

“Well, Hermione, I can honestly say I never knew anyone who could buy so many books in one day,” Harry gasped setting down the huge bag on her kitchen table with a dull thud.

“I will read and use every one of them; you know that!” Hermione pointed her wand at him and he held up his hands in mock surrender. With a flick of her wrist her books flew from the bag and found slots on one of her three bookshelves in the living room. Her flat was small, but cozy with the sheer number of books and tomes lying on her bookshelves, or any other flat surface she could find. Harry settled himself at one of the two chairs at her kitchen chair and popped open a butterbeer she slid in front of him.

“I can't believe I've never watched the Changing of the Guards before,” Harry mused, watching Hermione putter around her kitchen, throwing chicken breasts and onions up on the counter. He made a move to help but she pointed at him to stay.

“I saw it a few times with my parents, but it's still so interesting to watch. I always wondered if someone out there could get one of them to laugh, or break their stony stare and silence, you know?”

“I wondered that today,” Harry admitted twirling the bottle around in his hand. “Ginny wanted to go once, but we just never got there. I think she had to work that weekend or something.”

“I'm sure she would've tried; then want to fit in some shopping too,” Hermione said carefully, placing two chicken breasts into the pan purposefully not turning around. She knew if she kept busy and didn't drop everything to give him her full attention he would keep talking.

“Oh, I'm sure…if anyone could've succeeded she probably would've been the one.” Harry took a sip of butterbeer. “Her Ministry paychecks, after helping her parents with certain bills, went to clothes then stuff for her nephew. I think I actually saw her buy two books in the year that…we went out,” Harry trailed off. He fidgeted in his chair listening to the hissing, splattering sound of the chicken on the stove.

Hermione felt his change of mood, but pretended to be busy moving the chicken around with the onions and garlic in the pan.

“Probably Quidditch related am I right?” she asked gently, feeling him nod behind her.

“Yep. Molly gave them to me…when…after she died.”

Hermione snuck a side long glance at him and saw him staring down at her table, fiddling with an almost empty butterbeer bottle. She was quiet as she cut up the onion magically, so she wouldn't induce crying. It also gave time for Harry to reflect on the more intricate parts of being Ginny's boyfriend.

“Harry?” Hermione set down her spatula and turned around. Harry looked up at her, green eyes expressionless behind his glasses. “Why don't you go get those movies I left at your place? There's one more in there and I'm not wasting what little Muggle money I have by not watching it. It'll help take our mind off things too.”

Harry nodded, and tilted back the butterbeer, finishing the last swallow. He had just realized when he mentioned Ginny that it was the first time that afternoon he had really thought about her. As he disapparated, hunted down the movies and got ready to return to Hermione's (with an apple pie that appeared at his table courtesy of Molly) Harry wondered what that meant. He didn't want to forget her, and seriously doubted if he ever could. But for a few hours he had walked the London streets with Hermione, enjoying the simple Muggle life and realized that he had fun. Something he didn't think he would ever be able to have again.

He felt as if his heart was beginning to mend itself, and he had Hermione to thank a million times for that. He realized for the first time how hard she was working to bring him up out of his emotional rut he was living. She had been there every day since last June. Once the families had bowed out of their lives, thinking that they could get back to their own daily routine, Hermione still came to visit Harry on weekends. She stopped by his classroom every morning and evening. For his twentieth birthday, she took him to her parent's where they ate a quiet dinner. And she was still there, holding him up and he truly wondered if he could move on, socially and emotionally with out her. One day, one of them would meet someone else and begin their own lives, again. And then one of them, or both of them, would be moving on. However, he had a feeling it would most likely be her first; she always bounced back from tough situations faster than he ever had or could.

Harry appeared in Hermione's kitchen to a table set with silverware, napkins, and empty glasses. Hermione was in the process of sliding the chicken onto two dinner plates. Setting the bag of movies down in the hall he made his way to the refrigerator.

“So, have you given anymore thought to McGonagall offering you a place to stay at Hogwarts?” Harry asked as he poured two glasses of milk.

“I have and I still like it here. If money becomes an issue then Hogwarts is a fall back. I'm not Head of House, so there's no pressing reason for me to stay there. Besides, I think this place is bigger than what you get at school anyway…where would I put all my books and things?” Hermione placed a baked potato on each plate and set them down on the table.

“Yeah, my thoughts exaclty. And, with only teaching fifth through seventh years, I figure the office hours I keep should be enough.”

“Harry, I know McGonagall will offer you the rest of the years in due time. You know Professor Gallows isn't happy teaching the other half of DADA. You're still young, barely two years older than the oldest seventh year.”

“I know. I'm in no hurry to add more classes. I'm still trying to grade Thursday's exam,” Harry joked lightly, placing the basket of rolls in the middle of the table.

“Really Harry, you should be a bit more organized,” Hermione told him sliding into the seat across from him. “It would help to just write out a schedule and stick to it. Even with my four classes, it works well.”

“You've been telling me that for the past two years I've been teaching and I haven't yet done it, have I?” Harry bit into his chicken and gave her the thumbs up sign that it was cooked perfectly.

“No,” Hermione sighed, “One day you'll realize I'm right you know.”

“I know you're right, I just choose not to take that path. Every time something is scheduled in my life, it falls to pieces. I guess I'm used to flying by the seat of my pants and getting it done that way.” Harry was cutting up baked potato when her lack of response drew his eyes upwards. “What?”

Hermione was just staring at him, her fork resting in her hand on her plate as if he interrupted her in the middle of taking a bite. She looked as if she couldn't believe he had just said he chose not to keep a schedule.

“Hermione, of all the classes I get to teach I've never been late-,” he began trying to explain himself, thinking she was angry he actually admitted he chose not to listen to her.

“I know,” she interrupted, leaning forward urgently, “but do you really believe that now with the Death Eaters gone, Voldemort gone and the school back on track, making it past the anniversary, that your life is going to still fall apart?”

Harry set down his fork and wiped his mouth. “Yes I do. I even thought that back in the Spring of ninety-nine. We get back from destroying the bastard and all the horcruxes and I find that Ginny is giving me the silent treatment. Fine, I can deal with that. I hurt her; I probably deserved the silent treatment. I get through the summer, turn eighteen and hang out with you and Ron here. I end up teaching Ginny's class and we eventually become friends again and after she graduates, even more. I think for the first time, when I kissed her on graduation day, `I'm happy! Nothing can ruin this now!'”

“Harry-,” Hermione pleaded, her eyes wide, wanting him to stop but he held up his hand.

“For a year I thought that my life wasn't going to fall apart. Then, Ginny AND Ron die because I couldn't save them when those Death Eaters cornered the lot of us at Hogsmeade. Everything I believed crumbled, and quite fast too. So, I'm sorry if I can't, or I won't, believe that something is going to shake my foundation yet again,” Harry said vehemently, his eyes flashing. He surprised himself with the force of his words and obviously Hermione was taken aback too because she literally sat back and stared at him.

“So, for this past year, it hasn't been all about missing Ginny and Ron? Some of it is your…hesitancy of building back up your life again only, because you think if you do, that it'll fall down again?” Hermione whispered feeling her heart ache for him. He was almost twenty one and had yet to build his own life out of fear he'd lose it.

“That about sums it up,” Harry answered moving his eyes down to his potato noticing all the butter had melted, blending into the potato. Feeling a hand on his knee, he blinked and realized he had been staring intensely at his dinner plate. Hermione was now on her knees, her hands resting on his leg.

“As much as it…hurts me to admit this I can see where you are coming from. I thought maybe this was part of everything you've been feeling the past year, but I thought that if I stayed by your side-,” Hermione jiggled his leg as his gaze moved away from hers. Reluctantly he turned and glanced at her, seeing her eyes bright with tears.

`Great, now she's going to pity me for the way my life pretty much has sucked up til now,' Harry thought to himself, trying to keep his face blank as she launched into a typical, drawn out Hermione explanation.

“I thought you would understand that you can count on me. You can count on the Weasleys. Just because Ginny and…Ron,” her voice caught for a moment but she moved on, “are gone Molly and Arthur are still wanting you to be a part of their life. You are Bill and Fleur's son's godfather! I've been with you through seven years of school and we're coming up on ten years of being friends. I'm not going to leave you…ever,” Hermione grabbed his hand as he tried to pull back.

“You can't promise something like that!” Harry informed her, quietly, rearing back so her head wouldn't collide with his chin. She raised herself up on her knees and was now eye to eye with him.

“I am promising that. I'm not moving, the enemy is gone. I'd like to think that I know you better than anyone else out there and know that in due time you will move on. I'd like to say at that point, we'll move on with our own lives but never stop being the close friends that we are! I'm not pitying you Harry,” Hermione shook his hands for emphasis, not surprising him that she was able to see that it was something he was thinking. “I care for you and love you and know that we needed each other to get through the past year and I know you still need some time to put things together and move on. This is about my friendship with you, not me pitying you. If there is another way I can help you or a way to convince you to trust me that you can start living again…,” her eyes closed as she pushed back tears and chose her words carefully. “And be that happy, almost carefree person you were back when you were with Ginny then tell me. If that means I need to step back and give you space… I will,” she finished with a whisper. Her grip on Harry's hands mirrored his own as she tried to push some of the strength she had found within herself during the past few months into him.

“Ron was really lucky to have you,” Harry managed past the lump in his throat. Her offering to help him even if it meant giving him space touched him. He couldn't imagine his life without her and didn't want her to give him the chance to experience what hell that would be. “I know it wasn't all…great… the last few months you were with him, but still….”

“You and Ginny were really lucky and I'm so happy she brought you fun and happiness while you two were together. Ron and I…well…I think we all knew that we were on two totally different levels, but I still loved him. I would be doing the same for him if he needed it if the positions were reversed, Harry.”

A tremor ran through him and Hermione tightened her hands around his as if she felt it. He finally realized that she was indeed the greatest friend anyone could have ever wanted. Sometimes he wished it had been him instead of Ron, then he wouldn't be causing so much pain in his friend's lives. He lifted his eyes from their clasped hands as she began speaking again.

“You never asked for my help. You don't like to do that and I know that…I would never tread anywhere I wasn't wanted and I really felt that you needed someone, that you needed me, who could identify with you and comfort you. Now, you seem to be pulling yourself up…do you still want me to be a….a…constant presence?” She asked it with a tone that Harry recognized in her voice. She wasn't sure if she wanted that to happen, but she was going to abide by what he said. He looked at her for a moment taking in the freckles across her nose the way her eyes stayed glued to his. For the first time in his young life he felt that he had someone in his corner. His heart began to pound with the possibility that for once, someone would be constant in his life and not end up being taken away from him.The Dursley's never were.

Professor Dumbledore wasn't around anymore to help him. Snape, who had been killed in the hunt for the horcruxes, had made sure of that.Ron was gone. So was Ginny. Neville dropped him the occasional owl but was busy with his advanced Herbology degree in the swamps of Florida.

As his eyes shifted over her face during the few seconds that ticked by, many thoughts flew through his head.

The triumphant smile she had when she found the counter curse to destroy the horcruxes. The way she and Ron ran to him after he convinced her to perform it on him, knowing his scar was the seventh horcrux (after the book, cup, ring, locket, Ravenclaw's wand from Ollivanders, and the Gryffindor sword), the pain muffling charm she performed until they could get him to Madam Pomfrey.

The way they held each other after the double funeral each trying to be strong for the other one, but tears still streaming down their faces. Molly's arms around both of them, soothing them with words of comfort.

But Hermione was right here in front of him, waiting for him to say something.

Taking a deep breath he kept his eyes on hers to show her he meant every word he was going to say. He had no idea where the words came from that were swirling around in his head, but everything suddenly made sense.

Whether she understood it or not, that was a different story.

“You're my anchor, Hermione. Every boat, whether afloat or grounded needs one. I need you.” Harry felt the words flow out of his mouth still wondering where in the hell that philosophical thought came from. For a moment he thought he sounded a bit like Ginny and airy Luna Lovegood mixed together.

Suddenly, he felt himself being smothered in another vice like hug from Hermione. Brushing her hair away from his face, he settled his cheek against the side of her head, feeling her trembling with emotion. He was all talked out and had no idea what to say, but the next words seemed to be the right ones because they got her laughing.

“Hermione? I think our food's cold…and I'm still hungry.”

----

“Where in the hell did Potter come up with that boat analogy?” Draco asked staring over Ginny's head as she lounged against the wall closest to Hermione's kitchen table.

“Luna said that to me once and I was thinking it when Hermione was talking; he must've picked it up,” Ginny explained with a small note of amusement in her voice. She had been thinking that, hoping Harry would say the right thing back to Hermione.

“That's the first step in Harry accepting that we are truly gone when you can communicate with them almost subliminally,” Ron finished, watching his two friends eat the food that was now re-warmed with a few charms.

“That amazes me, Weasley, that you know a big word like that,” Draco pointed out, then sighed as if he was bored. “So, this is all you do…watch them? What the hell am I here for?”

“No idea, Draco. Whatever your own personal reasons are for not moving on are your own personal reasons. We are just here to show you what we DO while hanging out in this middle life. We chose to be here, to help them,” Ginny pointed to the couple at the table, “but what you are here for, only you know.”

“That's the thing, Miss Weasley, I don't know,” Draco snapped at her as he crossed his arms, fidgeting with anger and unanswered questions.

For a moment no one spoke as they watched Harry and Hermione finish their dinner and Harry insisting on cleaning up the dishes. Draco glanced at Harry then at Ginny, who was watching him quite impassively.

“How can you be so blasé, about this whole dead “thing” and seeing him, your boyfriend, out there acting like a baby over the fact that you're indeed…dead,” Draco asked finally. Ginny lifted her shoulder then relaxed.

“I wasn't at first, but your emotions even out after awhile.I chose, Ron and I chose, to stay behind to help him and Hermione heal.”

“Mainly Harry,” Ron interrupted reading the newspaper over Hermione's shoulder.

“I loved him; still do and when you love someone you don't ever leave them. Sometimes it takes awhile for THEM to realize that…and that's what we are here for.” Ginny turned and beckoned to Ron.

“Let's go…we have a meeting with Nick about you, Draco.”

“Nearly HEADLESS Nick?” Draco felt that surprises were dropping on him from every angel.

“The one and only. Let's go boys,” Ginny commanded and they left Grimauld Place as the sun began to set behind the row of houses signaling the end of another day.

-->

3. Colorful Conversation

A/N: thanks to Lynney who was my substitute Beta for this chapter!

----

Colorful Conversation

“So, what do you think? Can men and women can just be friends?”

“Hmm? What?” Harry's eyes popped open, realizing it was Hermione's voice and the movie they'd been watching was over.

“You fell asleep? It was a great movie!” Hermione reprimanded and smacked him in the arm as she stood up to remove the tape.

“Ow!” Harry frowned at her and rubbed his upper arm struggling to sit up a bit straighter. “You insisted on watching the credits. That's when you lost me.” He readjusted his glasses and turned to her offering his full attention.

“The people that worked on that movie, any movie should be commended, so I watch them. And they were funny!” Hermione defended settling herself on the opposite side of the sofa.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. Now…what did you ask me again?”

Hermione repeated her question and Harry mentally kicked himself for agreeing to watch “When Harry Met Sally”. He should've seen this question coming, then he could've prepared himself for the conversation that would ensue. Or feigned illness and disapparated home quickly.

“I would like to think so,” Harry answered slowly in a questioning voice, knowing that it wasn't the right answer by the way she looked at him. “What? You know I'm rubbish at these kinds of conversations. I was friends with Luna during school and the sex thing, as Billy Crystal's character describes-.”

“That'd be Harry, Harry,” Hermione joked, smiling a bit as he avoided saying the name of the lead character.

“I know, Hermione. Anyway…I think it can be done.”

“Really?”

“Yes…we've been friends for almost ten years like you said…and none of that stuff has happened to us.” Harry managed to stay still on the sofa, not wanting to fidget and give away his lack of comfort in being part of this conversation.

“So, you can honestly say you've never thought about me in any romantic way; or Luna in that way either?” Hermione questioned trying not to giggle at the expression on Harry's face.

`Shit! Nothing good can come of this conversation…damn!'

“Do I have to answer that? What about me posing the question back to you?”

“I'll answer; then you still have to answer, Harry. And yes, I've thought about it.”

“What?” The conversation had turned around so fast Harry didn't know what to say. “You have?” Harry stared at her and wondered how she could not be embarrassed; he certainly was. “You must've talked to Ginny…after…well…my birthday, then.”

“Of course I did; that's something you do share with your best friend. I know Ron probably told you about the first time we had sex, even though he swore he wouldn't, I knew he would. Sweet of him to say he wouldn't…but Ginny wasn't the reason, for me to think about you in that way, anyway.”

That piqued Harry's interest. Only now, of course, the thought of sex and Hermione was embedded into his brain. He COULD NOT BELIEVE he was having this conversation with her and as much as he didn't want to ask, he really wanted to know when she had thought about it. `Any boy, man, would want to know,' he rationalized.

“Okay, Hermione…don't make me ask,” Harry leaned back waiting, drumming his fingers against the back of her maroon sofa.

“Seventh year, Christmas,” she said, as firmly as if telling someone the way to perform a summoning charm.

“Why?”

Hermione shrugged and looked down at her hand, picking at her nail. “You were so tired, so down about trying to find the wand horcrux that disappeared I was wondering what Ron and I could do to make you feel better. We were discussing it one night while you were here, in the shower, and he said, jokingly, I should just go up and snog you. It was all a joke, mind you. That it would probably lead to something else and that would make you feel better. I think I hit him, pretty hard because at that point I was more interested in him. Having him say that to me just wasn't something I wanted to hear.”

“Uh-huh,” was Harry's stunned reply. “I'm glad you didn't…then…because I knew Ron fancied you. Just took forever for the two of you to get together and that would've thrown a wrench into things.”

“So, by that you mean you would've returned…the affection?” Hermione glanced at him stealthily, surprised by her own boldness in continuing with this line of conversation. She could feel that he was uncomfortable talking about it, and now that she had actually put the thought out there so was she. Still, as she had never had this conversation with him before, she figured that it would be a learning experience if it continued.

“Ummm…I honestly can say I have no idea what I would've done. I'd like to think I would've done the gentlemanly thing and not gone there, seeing as you two would end up an item four months later.”

“Fair enough…so answer your end now.”

Harry sighed and felt his heart start beating painfully against his ribs. He really should not be having this conversation, not with his best friend…a woman.

Woman.

That word and thought struck him hard. He always viewed them as equals in certain ways, never bringing the subject of their gender into their tight relationship. Now, she was and he was scared it was going to change everything.

He began to try and verbalize his thoughts slowly, not looking in her direction; suddenly, finding her overflowing book shelf more interesting.

“Umm…well, honestly, I never thought about that until until this moment. And, only because we're talking about it.” She saw Harry look down and blush while reaching up to fiddle with his glasses like he always did when he was nervous or uncomfortable about something.

“Can I go back to sleep now?” Harry muttered stretching out on Hermione's sofa and closing his eyes so he didn't have to look at her. He heard her sigh in reply, knowing that the conversation was over. Now that the image of Hermione was in his mind, he found himself trying to imagine himself kissing her. Astonished that a picture came easily to his mind, he found he couldn't look at her without now thinking highly inappropriate thoughts, as she was just his friend.

`Damn that movie,' Harry thought hearing Hermione open a book and feeling her stretch her legs out next to his as she went about reading. He felt himself relax but as he began drifting off, Hermione poked him in the leg.

“What?” he mumbled keeping his eyes closed and his arms crossed over his chest.

“I'm going to bed…you should get going. Or you can sleep on the couch if you like.”

Harry vaguely heard himself murmur something about being too tired to apparate anywhere. He had tried apparating to The Burrow from his place one time while after running on only a few hours of sleep and ended up missing it by almost a mile and in the town below.

“Your floo is closed?” Hermione questioned, knowing the answer was yes already. He always closed it on the weekends since he only floo'd to and from school during the week. Harry nodded and dimly felt Hermione stand up and place a blanket over him.

“'Night then,” she whispered brushing her lips across his forehead, pausing on his faded scar. Harry managed a nod before the thick velvety feeling of sleep overtook him.

---

Harry awoke with a start and had that panicky feeling that told him he didn't know where he was. Sitting up he recognized the soft, Gryffindor blanket that had been laid on top of him and he took a few deep breaths, slowly calming himself. Clearly, it was the urge to use the loo that woke him up and softly he crept softly down through the kitchen towards the one bathroom in her flat. Hermione's bedroom was just down the hall so he shut the door and noticed a small nightlight was magically glowing on top of the sink.

What he didn't notice was the new hall table she had bought. He'd managed to avoid it without evening seeing it on his way in, but as he tried to negotiate the left turn back to the living room he cracked his shin against it, yelling out before he could register that Hermione was still asleep.

Hermione flew out of the bedroom and skidded to a stop in front of him, hand on his arm.

“What? What's wrong?” her voice wavered with fear, still not fully awake, but knowing that Harry had just yelled in pain.

“Nothing…I just cracked my leg on that blasted table,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “I'm sorry-.”

“Come on. Come sit and let me see,” Hermione led him slowly to her bedroom and her light turned on with a wave of her wand. Lowering himself onto the edge of her bed that was still made he pulled up his pant leg to reveal an already bruised and swelling knee.

“I have some cream that will stop the swelling and a Bruise Vanishing Cream too. Just sit tight.” She stood up and walked back towards the bathroom. He could hear her opening drawers against the wall that sided up to the bedroom and wondered if she was mad at him for abruptly waking her up at…his gaze roamed her room and found a clock on the other side of the bed…three in the morning? He looked up as she walked in and noticed she was clad in a short sleeve shirt and shorts nightgown set. Her long hair was braided down her back, something he hadn't seen since their seventh year at school.

“I'm sorry,” Harry frowned as he lifted his leg up onto the bed.

“It's okay. I shouldn't have put that table there, because it is a bit too big. But I liked it because my new collection of books fit perfectly on it so, I had to have it.” Hermione bent over his leg and carefully felt around the bruise, gently holding his leg as he flinched. Harry leaned back against the pillow and felt her rub the cream in carefully starting with the outer edge and working in with her thumbs. It actually felt good; so good he wondered if there was a numbing cream mixed in with it.

“Doesn't hurt at all,” he mumbled as Hermione paused and squeezed some Bruise Vanishing Cream into her hand.

“Bit of numbing cream in there. Nasty bruise Harry…I'm so sorry. I should've warned you about that table.” She ran her palm up above his knee causing Harry's eyes to fly open wondering why she was moving up his leg.

“What're you doing?” he questioned lifting up his head and instinctively knowing that Hermione rubbing his leg shouldn't feel that good.

“I need to spread this cream beyond the bruise too, so hold still.”

“I can do that you know,” Harry tried to sit up but she glared at him. Realizing that meant he wasn't going to win that part of the argument he sat back thinking of the exams he had to grade yet. Anything to get his mind off of her hands massaging his knee and thigh. Harry let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when she finally stood up, declaring she was done.

“Keep your pant leg pulled up for a few minutes,” Hermione told him from the hallway. “And stay off it. Just lay back and sleep. I'll go to the sofa.”

“No.” Harry surprised himself with how awake he was at that moment. “It's your bed, I'll move.”

“Stay.” Hermione walked in and sat next to him on her side and his eyes fell to the buttons on her shirt. He squinted at the pattern on her pajamas and couldn't help the smile that broke across his face.

“What's so funny?” Hermione demanded leaning towards him.

“You have broomsticks on your…pajamas. And you won't even fly!” Harry grinned as he grabbed her hand in time to stop her from smacking his arm.

“They were on sale...and they're comfortable. I don't really care what I sleep in,” she told him. She tried to pull her arm away but he held tight.

“I'm pretty sure I wore my broomstick boxers today,” Harry grinned as Hermione gaped at him. “We match you know.”

Her eyes widened at his unexpected comment, causing Harry to break into a full smile; happy he had stunned her into silence for a change.

“Did you hit your head too?” Hermione asked seriously, feeling his grip loosen on her arm and the warmth of his touch fading away.

“Nope. At least I don't remember if I did.” Harry pushed himself up only to find a hand on his chest pushing him back down.

“Stay. Here.”

“I'm not making you sleep on the sofa.” Harry saw she wasn't going to let him move and gave in, setting his glasses on the nightstand next to her bed. “You stay here too, then. I'll be a perfect gentleman. Promise.”

“No more pajama comments?” Hermione asked pointedly as she dimmed the lights and crawled under the covers.

“No…and why is it so warm in here?” Harry asked suddenly realizing that he had been a lot cooler out in the living room.

“I'm always cold, so I cast a warming charm in here until July or so.”

“Get warmer pajamas,” Harry said.

“Harry! You promised no more pajama comments!”

He sat up and stared down at her. “I was just giving you practical advice,” he told her as he pulled off his long sleeve shirt. She sighed and Harry interjected before she could say anything, “Thanks for taking care of my leg.” He felt her smile at his gratitude and their little spat was over.

“Sure. Now, go to sleep.” Hermione turned onto her side with her back to him and wiggled until the covers came up to her shoulders. Carefully Harry lay back down and settled his head back against the pillow, feeling sleep come over him once again.

What felt like only minutes later, Harry felt gentle fingers running over his knee, down his shin then back up towards his thigh. Softer, then harder they pressed and it felt so wonderful a small sigh escaped him.

“I'm sorry, did that hurt?”

Harry's eyes snapped open and he jerked his head off the pillow.

Hermione. Sitting towards the bottom of the bed holding his leg. Letting his head fall back onto the pillow he managed a “No” and felt grateful for the blanket that was covering his torso and other leg.

She needed to stop touching him, soon, or he was going to be very embarrassed.

“Fine. Doesn't hurt,” he gasped and pulled his leg away from her touch, glancing at the now faded bruise. He pulled his jeans down and left his leg bent at the knee, foot flat on the mattress. “Thanks Hermione. What time is it?” Harry turned but couldn't see the clock. Stretching out his arm to flatten her pillow he saw it was almost seven, a very blurry seven and some other numbers he couldn't make out.

“Early still.” Harry closed his eyes thinking another hour of sleep would do wonders for his stiff knee.

“I had to get a drink and thought I could check while you were still sleeping. Thinking if it hurt you wouldn't know.”

“Noooo, it doesn't hurt,” Harry felt her flop down beside him, his arm now stuck under her neck. Mentally he sighed and admitted to himself that the “sex thing” was now officallyout there. `Bloody movie', Harry thought to himself. His hand slipped to her arm as she turned towards him, her knees touching his unhurt leg.

“The cream worked great; your bruise and the swelling have gone down,” Hermione told him quietly, her hands unconsciously fiddling with the button on her shirt. Harry gave her a one armed hug, effectively pulling her towards him then relaxing.

“It feels just about normal. I'm sorry I woke you up with my clumsiness.” Harry looked down at his feet as Crookshanks hopped up, surveyed the two of them and then proceeded to curl up at their feet.

“Harry, stop apologizing. As long as you're okay,” Hermione tilted her head back to look at him, “Just don't sue me or anything.”

Harry smiled down at her. “I wouldn't want all those books which is probably all I'd get anyway.” Harry laughed as she held up a finger indicating for him to stop his comment right there. Reaching between them he grabbed her hand and poked her getting a shriek in his ear. His hands skittered up her sides, pushing hers away from him, surprised at how strong she was. After getting his feet attacked by Crookshanks he captured Hermione's hands, pushed her arms down to her stomach and straddled her.

“You,” he gasped trying to catch his breath from the laughing and shrieking that signaled the start and end of their tickling fight. Managing to maneuver her wrists into one of his hands, he sat back, appraising her with a smile on his face.

“Give up?” Harry teased, waiting as she caught her breath. She tried to move her arms but he held tight.

“No, I'm just gathering strength for the next fight,” she retorted trying to move her legs. Harry clamped his thighs around them and heard a sharp intake of breath. Suddenly, a chain of events happened that he couldn't explain or rationalize no matter how hard he tried later on that day.

His eyes flicked downward and for the first time saw how Hermione's shirt was riding up, revealing her abdomen, belly button and all. Moving his hand off his thigh he couldn't help but to reach down and touch her stomach. Feeling her flinch he raised his eyes to hers, and even though it was blurry he could still see she was staring right at him.

“Ticklish?” he whispered letting his fingers rest above the elastic of her shorts.

“No,” she whispered back, suddenly still. Slowly, he spread his fingers out splaying them over her stomach and felt her warm skin quiver under his hand. Her hands suddenly relaxed in his and he felt a feather light touch on the top of his hand. Her fingers had slipped free and he actually felt she was telling him what he was doing was permissable.

Who knew he'd be enthralled by such a small patch of skin? Boldly, he slid his hand up a fraction of an inch and at the same time released her other wrist, letting his other hand rest near her hip.

“You aren't ticklish here?” Harry asked quietly briefly wondering why in the world he was doing this. Placing gentle pressure below her rib cage caused her to suck in her breath, and her fingers curled into a fist. She stared wonderingly up at Harry.

“No…not…ticklish.” Hermione's hands relaxed and seem to move in slow motion. He watched her touch his knee and when he didn't stop her she moved on. Hesitantly she slid one hand up his thigh and stopped mid way. Every nerve in his body was firing off all the wrong signals in response to Hermione's touch. SHE should not be able to render him speechless and cause him to become quite disconcerted. He shifted his body slightly, resting most of his weight on his uninjured side and felt Hermione's hand press into his leg.

“Harry?” Hermione's voice reached his ears, but it didn't sound like her at all. So much meaning, it almost sounded sensual to his ears; his mind reeled over what they were doing. The breathlessness that came through clued Harry into the fact that Hermione was indeed feeling something too.

A shriek filled the air and both of them leapt up, knocking into each other as Crookshanks suddenly tore out of Hermione's room, fear-fluffed tail disappearing around the door jam.

“What the hell?” Hermione gasped still holding Harry's arm. He shook his head.

“Something spooked him. Or he doesn't like me...touching you.” Harry took the moment to turn away, and reach for his glasses.

“He got spooked by something,” Hermione said quietly crossing her arms across her chest. They met each others gaze and Harry knew he had to leave and go back to his house. Now. Right now.

“Thanks for the movie, and for fixing me up.”

“Not a problem,” Hermione smiled shyly then dropped her eyes. “Time to get up now I suppose.”

“I'm going to head home, get dressed and grade those exams. I'll talk to you later, alright?” He couldn't even look at her, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and wonder at where he had just touched her and the way she had said his name. Questioning softly; her tone not unwilling or angry but it had shot to his very core and made him feel almost bewitched.

“Alright,” Hermione followed him as he grabbed his shirt off her chair and walked out her bedroom door, feeling her presence a few feet behind him. With a small wave, he disapparated from her kitchen.

----

Minutes earlier, Draco and Ginny had floated into Hermione's flat. Ron stayed behind, having too much fun watching his older twin brothers concoct a new candy. Ginny had said he was free to move onto the next world since he felt Hermione was able to carry on with her life, but, he'd told her he was waiting for Ginny to go with him. Ginny also believed that he really wanted to see Harry and make sure he was doing alright. They had been like brothers and that bond never breaks.

Draco glanced at Ginny as she watched Harry flip Hermione over after a bout of tickling.

“So, this doesn't bother you?” Draco waved his hand towards the couple on the bed.

Ginny shrugged. “I wish it could still be me, but it can't. So, if it's Hermione he needs to make him happy then so be it. He still doesn't know what he wants.”

Draco lounged againt the wall looking every bit like the GQ model in this month's magazine, but a few shades paler. She got the feeling he was studying her; waiting for her to say something more about how she felt, but she found that nothing else summed up her feelings any better than her original answer.

Ginny watched Hermione suddenly go still and with a tilt of her head, she could see Harry touching Hermione's stomach. For a moment, Ginny actually did feel something…not jealousy exactly, but a remembrance of what it was like to be held and loved by Harry. She let out an involuntary sigh. Crookshanks' head popped up and swiveled looked in her direction. He let out a yowl of recognition and tore out of the room. Startled and disbelieving, Ginny moved back, coming up against Draco. He put a hand up to her shoulder steadying her, purely out of habit. As a being of the Light, even if she fell, she wouldn't hurt herself.

Spinning around after the cat Ginny caught Draco's steady, knowing gaze.

“What'd you do? That cat sure didn't seem to see you until just now.” Draco's hand dug into her shoulder holding her back. Ginny could actually feel the pressure of his fingers and moved her shoulder trying to dislodge his hand.

“I…I don't know. A memory I guess…missing that part of what it was like to be human?” Ginny didn't move to follow Harry and Hermione out into the hall, still a bit unnerved at actually feeling something, since it had been a good ten months since she had her last outburst of emotion. She remembered the day she was watching Harry, over at Bill and Fleur's, holding her four month old nephew… how Baby Will had smiled and looked right at her, over Harry's shoulder. Becoming more aware of Draco's hand on her shoulder she looked down at it, then up at him. Smirking, he removed his hand and clasped them behind his back.

“What now?”

“Time to go visit your mother; see if you can figure out what you need to do to move on.”

“Why don't you just “move on””? Draco asked following her out through Hermione's bedroom wall, through the flat next door and out into the morning sunlight.

“Harry hasn't fully let go of me yet. When he does and I'm sure he's happy and ready to move on, then I am gone.”

“You still care in other words. I thought being part of this…Light…for the past year made you impervious to caring or loving or feeling.”

Ginny stopped under a tree and waited for Draco to turn around once he realized she wasn't next to him.

“Not impervious. I can control my emotions a hundred times better; it's just something that happens when you move from human to Light. I could choose to become a Ghost if I want to, but I really don't fancy everyone being able to see me and be reminded about me. So, after this I plan on going to the next great adventure. Ron too.” Ginny was amazed he didn't interrupt her once during her explanation and she fell silent seeing him think about what she just said.

“So…once Potter is happy, with or without Granger, you'll move on. And he has to let go of you one hundred percent?”

“Well, you never fully let go of the ones you love. Harry loved Sirius and never forgot or fully let go of him. He still lives in Grimauld to feel like he is a bit closer. He has some of his things in the attic. Once its obvious Harry has moved on, then I will feel that I can move on as well. I don't expect you to understand it. Ron wanted to make sure Hermione was okay and now he is just waiting for me. Just a bit scared to go on by himself I guess.” Ginny actually gave a small smile. Draco responded with a nod showing he understood or at least pretended to comprehend what she had just thrown at him.

“Come on, my name should be in the paper today. Better go see how my mother is doing.”

Draco turned; walking and floating all at once down the sidewalk with Ginny on his heels. Neither was even remotely aware that at that moment both Harry at Grimauld and Hermione at her flat in Hogsmeade, were just about to read the news of Draco's suicide in The Daily Prophet.

---

Harry actually felt a pang of sadness reading the obituary for Draco L. Malfoy; his seventh year picture gracing the front page of the Prophet. He was one of the few people Harry could count on to make his life hell in the past. Banishing him to Malfoy Manor apparently hadn't been a reprieve for Draco. He had only another three years to go before he was free to live again. Presumably, he couldn't take the seclusion, lack of social interaction and took his own life by swallowing some complicated Potion that Harry had never heard of.

Hedwig and an overseas owl appeared at his window. Gently pulling them from the two owls beaks and giving them a treat he returned to his kitchen table and looked at them.

One from Hermione, one from Neville and one from Bill Weasley.

Inside, they all asked if he had heard the news about Draco Malfoy.

Writing three identical notes back, he replied he had and sent Hedwig and the overseas bowl back to the places they had just come from.

He wondered if he could blame himself for sending Malfoy to an early grave. After all, it was him that found Draco's hiding place in the mountains, with the Giants that had sided with Voldemort. Using Harry's invisibility cloak the three of them had managed to sneak in and perform the stupefy curse on Draco before Snape was aware they had arrived. He and Draco were there alone; the Giants having followed Voldemort to the other side of the mountains, trying to find more trolls and Inferi to join his army.

After a long, intense battle between Snape, Hermione, Ron and Harry, the trio actually triumphed after a Pertificus Totalus and a Stupefy spell connected from Harry and Hermione's wands. Taken by surprise at the intensity of the spell, Professor Snape tumbled backwards down the steep bank, where he struck his head on the rocks below. None of them being healers, they couldn't (or was it wouldn't?) do much and he died an uneventful, quick death.

Now, Draco was dead too.

Harry read through the article wondering what finally sent Draco over the edge. Not sure if he wanted to keep the article, he folded the paper and stuck it in his desk drawer. The thought of Ginny running into Draco wherever the dead happened to be, caused a slight smile to grace his lips. He would pay many galleons to see those two interact on that level.

As he walked upstairs, pulling off his shirt on the way, he tried turning his thoughts to something that was positive.

As he flicked his wand at the shower, adjusting the spray to a comfortable temperature he thought of Hermione. Nope. The image of himself straddling her and still not clear as to what led him to touch her stomach, and the feelings she invoked in him, still had him confused.

Ginny…well, there were good thoughts and wonderful feelings there but it made him sad to think about her at the moment.

Ron…his one and only best friend, gone. `No, not helping me to feel better'! Harry thought stepping into the shower.

Shifting mental gears he thought about the summer job he would be doing with Headmistress McGonagall through the month of July. Updating the wards around Hogwarts…not very exciting but it gave him something to do and he would learn something new. He would learn the most powerful charms; ones Dumbledore cast himself to ensure the safety of Hogwarts and its students.

That thought managed to bring Harry back to from the worst of his dark mood and in record time he finished his shower and was in his den, grading the last of his sixth year exams. He actually turned around the picture of him, Ron, Ginny and Hermione that graced the corner of his desk. He found that as he tried to grade papers his eyes would stray to the picture taken outside The Burrow. And instead of his eyes falling upon Ginny who was striking a glamour pose next to him, they strayed to Hermione who was smiling and waving from her position next to Ron.

-->

4. Chasing the Blues Away

Chasing the Blues Away

Harry unfolded the note Hedwig dropped in his lap and ducked as she executed a sharp U-turn and flew out the window to spend some time up on the roof of his home scoping for mice. He was sitting by the open window as he finished grading his DADA exams when the note fluttered on top of Dennis Creevey's exam.

“Harry,

I am finally finished my Advanced Herbology degree and plan on coming home on June 17th! Would it be an imposition if I could stay with you for a week or so? Luna's flat mate doesn't like male visitors. We plan on looking for a flat together, but she doesn't want to start the process wit out me. I would love to see you and catch up.

Thanks,

Neville”

Harry hadn't seen Neville since he came home to visit his Grandmother last Christmas and had stayed with him at Grimmauld for five days. Harry took up a piece of parchment and scribbled a note back to Neville telling him it wasn't a problem if he and stayed with him until they found their own flat. A bit excited to see his old friend he actually shot off a note to Hermione about it as well and sent Hedwig back to the local owlry to get the overseas message delivered. He figured Hermione would be apparating over as soon as she heard the news and would help him figure out what room would be best for their two friends.

Harry had six bedrooms in Grimmauld, more than enough for guests. He himself would have just let Neville and Luna pick one, but he realized reluctantly that having one ready for them would be the sign of a good host. Hermione had tried to teach him that lesson last Christmas when she'd made him follow her around cleaning and straightening up all six bedrooms so Neville could pick the one he wanted. The concept had baffled Harry, but he'd tried, anyway.

He finished grading Dennis' exam, scrawled an “O” on the top and shoved the exams back into his leather bag. Leaving the window open for Hedwig's return, he made his way upstairs to scout out which bedroom would work best for Neville, with or without Luna.

He opened the door at the top of the stairs and then quickly shut it. Too small. There was just a twin bed, a small dresser and Harry's old Quidditch equipment. The second bedroom was empty except for a few boxes of old schoolwork that Hermione insisted on Harry keeping. The third one, two down from his own bedroom, seemed to be the most appropriate. There was a nice sized bed for the two of them, two dressers and a desk that he had found at a yard sale years ago. As he stared at the bedroom he realized that a six bedroom, five and a half bathroom, three level house was just way too big for him alone. He briefly entertained the thought of renting it to another witch or wizard, or offering it to a Weasley; Bill or Fred since they were married. They could fill it up with kids and he could get a nice flat closer to the school. Hedwig's distant hoot jerked him out of his reverie. Drawing out his wand he began the process of cleaning the floors and dusting. He was getting ready to work on the small attached bathroom when heard Hermione downstairs.

“Harry?” her voice echoed up the stairs.

“Up here, Hermione,” he called back, trying to keep his mind set on cleaning the small bathroom. The thought of what happened earlier that morning had reared up again and he wondered if she was going to say something. He wouldn't put it past her to try and rationalize what happened. He wished her luck, really. Harry certainly couldn't find any explanation for why he felt compelled to touch her stomach of all places, a part he'd never seen with out a shirt or robe covering it.

“I just got your note. It seems ages since we've seen both of them,” Hermione greeted him as she walked in and turned a slow circle in the middle of the room. Harry came out of the bathroom with a set of sheets in his arms. Without a word, Hermione took them from him and began setting them properly on the bed.

“You actually started cleaning already?”

“Yeah. I'm giving two quizzes this week and figured I wouldn't have time. Besides, I knew you would be coming over and wanting to do this, so I thought I'd get a head start,” Harry answered as he bent down to retrieve the quilt that fell on the floor. Giving it a few good shakes he draped it over the bed catching Hermione's eyes as he did.

For a moment they started at each other as the quilt floated down onto the bed, perfectly aligned.

Shoving his wand into his back pocket, Harry thought maybe she was going to bring up what transpired that morning. Her eyes shifted over his face then flicked to his hands which were now in his pockets.

“You shouldn't keep your wand back there,” Hermione said absently as she slowly turned and flicked her wand at the window, opening it. “I believe you actually thought ahead, Harry. About cleaning this room. Maybe there is hope for you after all,” she joked giving him a smile.

“Was that a compliment?” Harry asked flippantly as their wands flew in separate directions, bringing in towels, soap, an extra lamp, a photo of Hogwarts and a potted plant Harry had actually managed not to kill. Hermione just shrugged but a small smile tugged the corners of her mouth. Harry got the distinct feeling that she was just a tiny bit impressed that he had known what she was going to do and actually did it without being asked.

“How's the grading going?” Hermione asked as they finished up and appraised the now welcoming room.

“All done. I'm free; until tomorrow morning anyway.” Satisfied with how their efforts he headed out the door and back downstairs with Hermione following him.

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

“No. You?” Harry saw Hedwig sail in through the window, leaving her spot on the roof, and make her way to her perch. Moving to his desk, he reached over and shut the window feeling the temperature drop as the sun set behind the trees.

“Not yet. I was writing out lesson plans when I got your note. I was only contemplating dinner. Do you…want to go out and get something?”

Was it Harry's imagination or did he actually hear something that sounded like nervousness in her voice? It wasn't his imagination how his stomach flipped, not unpleasantly, at the thought of spending the rest of the evening with Hermione. Nodding he leaned over and grabbed his sweater from the back of his chair.

“Do you need something warmer?” Harry asked pulling his red sweater over his head.

“Actually I think I do. I can just apparate back and grab something.”

“Do you want my jacket?” Harry asked, pulling a gray sweat jacket out of the closet. “You can charm it to whatever color and size you want.”

“Thanks. Sure, I'll take that,” Hermione reached for it, and waving her wand over it changed the color to a soft yellow and shrinking it a few sizes. As she shrugged it on she caught the scent of what she knew to be Harry. Nothing she could readily identify, but she would recognize that spicy scent anywhere. Startled that she would notice such an intimate feature of Harry she found her silence was causing him to stare at her oddly.

“Muggle or magical?” Hermione asked quickly. Harry's eyes wandered to the ceiling actually giving it some thought.

Magical would surely mean they'd overhear talk and stories about Draco Malfoy's suicide and how Narcissa was probably beside herself with grief. Something he didn't really want to expose himself to. Muggle it was.

Taking Muggle transportation wasn't difficult for either of them. They blended right into the crowd on the bus and the short line of people at the hostess stand in the restaurant they had decided on the bus ride. Once they were seated across from each other, Harry asked how her parents were doing knowing she usually went to visit for a few hours on Sundays.

“They're fine. Nothing new or exciting to report.” Hermione kept her nose buried in the menu, probably trying to decide between two different types of entrée's. Harry was getting steak, something he normally didn't cook at home and it sounded perfect to him at the moment.

Silently he sat back and watched Hermione as she kept her head bowed over the menu. Her brown, curly hair was pulled back off her neck in a tortoiseshell clip, one he recognized as a gift from Ron for her birthday two years ago. Her hand was resting on the side of her neck and one finger was idly tapping as she read down through the menu for what must have been the third time. In his head he picked that she would chose: shrimp. Shrimp was something her father was allergic to, so she almost always ordered it when they would go out to eat. One of her favorite dishes was shrimp scampi.

“Okay!” she exclaimed snapping her menu shut. She looked up at Harry and found him smiling. “What?”

“Nothing…nothing. I'm getting the steak, you?” He waited, knowing what was coming.

“Shrimp scampi,” she answered looking at him strangely, wondering what he was smiling about. She didn't get a chance to ask him again as the waiter came, took their order and walked it back to the kitchen.

“So,” Hermione started moving her eyes back to their table. Harry immediately recognized the tone in her voice: the firm, we have something-to-talk-about tone was quite evident and from the way she clasped her hands on the table he knew she was serious. Quickly he searched his mind to see if a good reason would happened that morning might have popped into his head about what happened that morning…of course, nothing.

“About this morning,” she started softly raising her eyes to his face. She saw him watching her, the light from the ceiling reflected off his glasses so she couldn't see his eyes. However he remained still and seemed to be listening. Taking a deep breath she leaned towards him, discovering by happy accident this brought his eyes into view. She was always able to decipher and gauge his feelings better if she could see his eyes. Right now, they were watching her intently.

“I'm sorry if I did anything to make you uncomfortable.”

`Well, that wasn't what I thought she was going to say. Why is she apologizing?' Harry thought, totally surprised she would start the conversation that way. He noticed that her words seemed slightly rehearsed making him realize how much she must've been thinking about that morning. He was mulling over whether that was a good thing or a bad thing when two words popped into his mind and seemed to be the appropriate response.

“Me too.” His voice came out as quietly as hers had. He expected her to thank him or smile and nod but she didn't. She continued to stare at him as if she was trying to read his mind and gauge the exact meaning of the words they'd just exchanged. She seemed to want him to say more. Or maybe she wanted to say more, but for the first time ever she wasn't sure what to say. He took a deep breath, trying to buy some time to get past the awkward moment as he slowly slid his hand across the table to her clasped ones. Resting his hand lightly on hers he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Luckily he was saved by the waiter returning with the water they had ordered. Harry pulled his hand away and took a sip of his drink. Hermione seemed to sense there wasn't anything else he could think to say and he was thankful when she changed the subject.

“I heard Peeves planning another practical joke today. I truly think, last month you telling him you liked his practical joke on Professor Flitwick, wasn't very appropriate. You totally egged him on you know.”

“I know. You told me that back when it happened. I still think it was funny, though--putting an exploding slinky inside that book. The students said he pretty much shot clear across the room,” Harry told her, trying not to laugh.

“He could've been hurt you know!” Hermione scolded him. He quickly cut a piece of meat and put it in his mouth, not quite sure he had anything else to say about Professor Flitwick's flying adventure.

From that point on it was if nothing had changed between them. They talked, laughed and even wondered a bit about what Ron would be thinking of the undefeated Chudley Canons and Ginny's thoughts on the new robe shot that had opened up to lure younger customers from Madam Milkin's in Diagon Alley.

It was only later that night when Harry got home and was in bed that he realized what she hadn't outright told him what he had done was wrong.. So, therefore it seemed what had happened on her bed seemed to be okay with her. Of course, that made him more confused than ever and that night his dreams were a mix of Ginny, Ron, Hermione and the way a pair of brown eyes seemed to be smiling at him.

-----

“Your mother was understandably upset,” Ginny told Draco as they sat around a table in the corner most dungeon of Hogwarts. Ron was playing with a charmed deck of cards (that Nick had obtained decades ago) with Peeves (who was cheating), Nearly Headless Nick and a few other ghosts who floated in and out of the room, checking up on the progress of the game.

Ginny could hear Ron questioning how he could get another deck of cards that he'd be able to use at his leisure, but Peeves refused to answer his questions.

It was a long moment until Draco answered.

“I know. But,” Draco shrugged as he drew a pattern with his finger on the scarred tabletop, “she was so depressed the whole time I was there. At least now she can get on with her life, go out and do something she enjoys.”

“I guess,” Ginny answered trying to figure out what Draco Malfoy needed to move on. He seemed to have almost everything he could've wanted back when they all went to Hogwarts together. Money, smarts in most classes, a group of followers (she wouldn't necessarily call them friends), parents who were interested in what he was doing and notoriety, for a short amount of time, as someone who was going to do the Dark Lord's bidding.

“Maybe you're missing love,” Ginny said suddenly. His head snapped up and she stared at her, his gray eyes narrowing.

“Love? What in the bloody hell are you talking about?”

She saw she had his full attention and she thought through her answer before saying it aloud. As she pondered the best route to take with this obviously touchy issue, and as his stare never wavered from her, she heard Ron yell at Peeves, who just cackled as he won yet another hand at Poker. A few ghosts sat in the corner, talking in a low murmur about that day's events throughout the castle.

“Well…do you feel your parents loved you like they should've? Or have you ever loved anyone that wasn't a family member? Pansy perhaps?”

Draco stared at her, visibly startled that she would bring up his personal love life.

“I…what the hell does that have to do with anything?” he demanded trying to smack his palm down on the table, making a noise of frustration when it went right through. She could see she had struck a nerve and he continued before she could answer. “You're saying I need to love someone to go on? And let me guess how you are thinking I should love someone—completely, wholly, without any reservation—and then I can move on? How in the hell am I supposed to do that if I am dead? Answer me that, Weasley.”

Ginny kept her gaze on his and smiled, which was the last thing he expected her to do.

“You can love someone like that from here. You can try to help your mother understand what you did and why you did it. That's a form of love.”

“I explained all that in the note I left. You're telling me you loved Potter like that? You were never concerned that a new Dark Lord was going to rise or those few Death Eaters were going to rise up…until they did?”

Ginny thought for a moment, looking at the back of her brother's head behind Draco. “That was on everyone's mind, Draco. Not just mine-.”

“You were snogging and probably shagging the boy who defeated Voldemort. You can't tell me you loved the part of him that seemed to always be connected to the Dark Lord…defeated or not. The Death Eaters came back for him as you know.” Draco insisted impatiently.

“No, I didn't love that part, honestly. I knew that I would stand up and fight for him, whether he wanted me to or not...and I did. Ron and I got ourselves killed doing that but Harry lived! I would do it again too.” Ginny leaned forward. “You need to think about what you wanted out of your old life. Was there anything missing that you wanted or needed? Once you acknowledge that, maybe even find it, then I bet you'll move on.”

Draco snorted and stood up. “Sure…whatever…I'm going to go haunt the castle.” He floated through the wall and left Ginny at the table by herself. Ron turned and glanced at her, eyebrows raised questioningly. She smiled at him and told him she was going to go see Harry, but not stay long.

“I'll go with you tomorrow. I might actually beat Peeves here.”

“Good luck,” Ginny said and followed Draco's path out of the basement.

`Ron has truly moved on', Ginny thought as her Light form apparated across the countryside. She remembered how upset he was when he saw Hermione crying out her sadness at missing Ron the month or two after the attack. She thought that with Hermione's very nature, her strength and determination to learn her way through things helped to convince Ron she was going to move on with her life.

In moments, she found herself suspended in Harry's bedroom a few inches above the wood floor. She glanced down at his sleeping form. He was sprawled out on his back, his face turned towards the window.

She remembered the nightmares he had after her and Ron's death when all she could do was watch helplessly as he thrashed the bed, until he woke up calling her name and drenched in sweat. She remembered trying to soothe him; telling him he was okay and trying to touch him but she was never sure if she had helped him at all. Now, he was still and quiet; his breathing even. For the first time this month he seemed totally peaceful. The approaching one year anniversary was hard on him. Dreams, thoughts, little things seemed to bother him and set him on edge.

Now, he was almost like she remembered him from when they dated. The first time she spent the night she noticed how quiet and still he was while sleeping. Nothing like Ron had told her, back in school when Voldemort invaded his thoughts. That last night she had spent with him she had lain on her side, for an hour, watching him sleep, replaying how she had surprised him in the shower that evening and the pleasant events that occurred because her spontaneous visit.

Turning around, she floated downstairs and stopped near his desk, touching the leather bag he used for school. Next to it was a piece of parchment which she had to lean in closer to read.

Neville and Luna were coming…or at least Neville was. That meant Luna wouldn't be far away.

Loony Luna Lovegood. Ginny smiled…an idea popped into her head and she raced away to talk to Ron.

----

Harry waited until the end of the class to return the exams he had graded. He learned that his students were very competitive and they always compared grades which interrupted class. As they walked out the door he handed them their exams and the last one he handed out to Christy Bell was taken softly from his hand. Instead of moving on she stopped next to him in the doorway.

“Something wrong Christy?” Harry asked knowing she got an “E” on her exam so she wouldn't be upset about that.

“No. Ummm…a bunch of us were talking in the common room last night about forming a Quidditch Club, for the kids that didn't make it onto their houses team and we need a teacher to sponsor us.” Christy said it in a rush as if she was nervous asking him to help her.

“Ah, I see,” Harry answered fairly sure where this was heading. The thought was a good one actually. There were a lot of talented students who could play; some who chose not to compete at that level and some who didn't make it by the skin of their teeth. There were many who enjoyed the fun of it but weren't champions. He could actually feel the thought taking hold and smiled at her.

“I'll have to talk to the Headmistress about it, but I like the idea.”

“Great!” Christie's face lit up. “I'm sure I'll see you at Fred and Katie's over the summer, you can just let me know then.”

“Sounds good. See you Wednesday,” Harry bade her goodbye and returned to his desk, sorting through the homework he collected.

“Harry.”

He looked up and saw Hermione appearing in the doorway, teaching robes immaculate like always, swishing about her legs as she walked towards his desk.

“What's up?” Harry smiled at her and continued to arrange his desk. Seeing her walk into his classroom had resolved a nagging feeling of loss he had experienced all day long. He hadn't seen her in the morning as she had decided to come early and breakfast with the students, and he'd missed that short visit.

Now, he felt satisfied, complete, that he was at last seeing and talking to her. His day-long unsettled feeling had seemed to dissipate into thin air but he sensed that if she walked out that door, it would come spiraling back. Right then, he made the decision to ask if she wanted to have dinner with him. Anything. Just to get a conversation and a few extra hours with her. He was also ravenously hungry having skipped lunch to help a student with an assignment.

“My mum sent me home with some homemade lasagna yesterday. Would you like to come over and have some for dinner?” Harry's head snapped up, surprised that she mentioned the very idea he had been thinking about.

“I would love some. I'm starving,” Harry replied, snapping his bag shut. “Let me go home, change and I'll be over. Do you need me to bring anything?”

“I don't have any butterbeer if you wanted any of that. I do have one small bottle of firewhiskey, but other than that, no.”

“Firewhiskey? YOU?” Harry set his bag on his shoulder and gazed at her in astonishment. He had only seen her drink it once, and that was at Fred and Katie's wedding earlier that year. And even then one glass made her slightly tipsy and she swore she wasn't a regular drinker. He believed her, especially after she tripped over her own feet, landing in his lap at the reception table.

“I partake on occasion. Only a small amount. I have bad days where one of those makes it bearable.”

“I hear you there. I'll bring over a bottle or two of butterbeer. You must've had some Monday.”

Hermione smiled, pleased he recognized that her day hadn't been as good as she'd hoped. “Great. See you soon.” She turned and walked out and down the hall. The sound of her low heeled shoes against the stone floor getting softer the further she was from his room. He realized that he knew the rhythm of her steps by heart. He always knew when she was walking through the corridors; he had always been able to distinguish her light but sure step from Ron's heavy ones.

His stomach clued him into the fact that he was thinking way too much, Harry took one more glance at his desk and headed towards the floo in the teachers lounge.

As he threw down his bag and cloak on his sofa and hurried upstairs to change he wondered if he should talk to Hermione about what to do with Grimmauld. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed more economic for him to get a place that was a bit smaller, and let someone use Grimmauld who needed the extra space. Hermione would be able to help him talk it through since he was still on the fence about it.

As he changed out of his teaching robes, he played with the idea of asking Hermione if she wanted to get a place with him. He knew that she didn't have a lot of extra money and lately she had complained about the lack of space for her books and the fact she would like to have separate office. He could buy a place, big enough for the both of them and she could pay him rent. Not that he needed the money, but he knew she would insist on paying her share. It seemed like a logical idea. She wouldn't want to move to Grimmauld; being closer to Hogwarts was a huge plus for her. Once in awhile she actually walked to school when she needed time to think through her lesson, or to enjoy the nice day. Hogsmeade seemed to be the best choice.

He made the decision he would broach the subject at dinner. The conversation would probably naturally steer towards books, or he could easily nudge it there if it didn't. That would be a good way to introduce his thought. The notion that she might say yes sent a jolt of happiness through him, causing him to pause his procession down the stairs.

Happiness was something that was rare for him and it wasn't the chief feeling he would describe as something Hermione brought to him. Friendship, loyalty, a sisterly kind of love was what he remembered throughout their seven years of Hogwarts. But happiness to the point where it almost ached in his chest? This was something new to him, coming from thoughts of her. He wondered if she knew that just seeing her thirty minutes earlier had brightened his whole day.

`Maybe that isn't something she wants to hear', Harry thought to himself continuing his path down the stairs. Was a friend, that was a girl, supposed to invoke feelings like that in him?

His thoughts went back to his first year of teaching. Having Ginny in his class for DADA forced them to interact and slowly he could see her warming up to him again. She hadn't been happy when he told her that he had to complete his quest for the Horcruxes by himself.

She began talking to him before and after class; volunteering regularly and asking questions when appropriate. Christmas of 1998 he stayed at the Burrow for a few nights and they sat up late, talking; him telling her all about the hunt for Horcruxes and it was at that moment he realized how comfortable he was with her. They had kissed under the Mistletoe and that soft kiss brought out the happy rush of feelings he experienced in the Spring of his sixth year. By February they had talked about keeping the relationship as platonic as possible until her Graduation. The moment she was officially graduated she had run up to him and snogged him in front of the entire student body.

Harry realized he was so engrossed in his thoughts of Ginny and Hermione that he was about to disapparate without the Butterbeer. Pulling open the cabinet door he saw four bottles of Butterbeer left. Grabbing all of them and putting them into a bag, he made his way to Hermione's flat.

-->

5. Moving Colors

Moving Colors

All throughout dinner, while Harry's mouth was idly chatting with Hermione, his mind was elsewhere. It was frantically working out a way to ask her about moving into whatever house or flat he might find. Somehow in between those thoughts he realized that she looked spectacular in the deep green, short sleeve shirt she was wearing. Harry couldn't remember her ever wearing a shirt that hugged her curves like in a way that drove home the point that she was a woman. The way he was fairing the past few days he wouldn't be surprised if she had worn it since seventh year and he just now noticed. Almost everything about her seemed to be unnerving him to say the least.

The past few days found him noticing how her hair looked up or down and sometimes he would try to remember if it was always that curly. He was enchanted by the different shades her brown eyes took dependent upon her mood: dark when angry or almost amber when excited. He noticed certain items of clothing, like her top, that she wore under her teaching robes. He knew it wasn't typical for him to view a female friend like this. He still saw Luna and a few other former female classmates around town from time to time and he never looked at them like he was looking at Hermione.

He wondered if everything would fall back to normal if one of them left for a few weeks. Maybe he was thinking about the more personal side of Hermione lately, because he was spending so much time around her. Whenever he thought about taking a vacation, going away from her, his heart constricted until he dismissed the idea. He didn't want to be away from her that long, that much he admitted to himself.

Harry drew his attention back to the table as Hermione talked about whether or not to include certain questions on her final exam. He contributed his thoughts about the quiz and was rewarded with a thankful smile. He watched her accio the exam over and put lines through a few of the questions. Their conversation moved on to how her students did on their pop Transfiguration quiz and when she seemed to be finished by stopping to take a drink, he dropped his thought out on the table.

“I think I'd like to move.”

Hermione stared at him, her butterbeer suspended in mid air, and Harry saw a shocked, scared expression pass over her face. Immediately, he felt guilt rise in him as he realized she was probably thinking he was going to move far away, leaving her behind.

Wording his statement a bit more clearly, “Just somewhere…smaller. Maybe here in Hogsmeade. What do you think?”

“Oh… Harry, don't scare me like that.” A relieved smile touched her lips and she sat up straighter ducking her head as if hiding the relieved expression that had come across her face. “Well,” she began wiping her mouth with her napkin then setting it on her finished plate. “I know Grimmauld is quite large, so it doesn't surprise me that you would say that. Do you know what your plans are for it?”

Harry shrugged while he twirled his fork around on his empty plate, rolling up invisible spaghetti noodles.

“I was thinking of seeing if The Order still wanted it or maybe Fleur and Bill, since they have Will and I know they want more kids. Or, to Katie and Fred…I don't know,” he sighed and set his chin in his hand, staring past Hermione now, “I don't want to sell it. I'd rather like someone I know to use it.”

“I think, if I heard right, Fleur is pregnant again, only a month or so. And since Bill is second in command under Remus, it might be nice to offer it to them first. I'm sure their two bedroom flat near the bank is getting a bit tight.”

“Pregnant again? Really? Well, then, once I find a place maybe I will offer it to them,” Harry rationalized feeling relief trickle into him as he realized he and Hermione seemed to be on the same page as far as Grimmauld went.

Standing up he grabbed his and Hermione's plate, before she could protest, and took them to the sink. For a moment he stood there, staring into the sink contemplating if moving was the best idea. There was a lot of stuff in Grimmauld. Most of it was Sirius', and he struggled with the notion if it was right to move or take any of his godfather's personal property. He knew everything was left to him but it still didn't feel like his own. Very few things in the house did.

A pair of arms circled around his waist from behind startling him and for a moment he forgot he had been standing in Hermione's kitchen. Hermione started talking, her cheek pressed against his shoulder blade.

“If you don't mind me asking, what will you do with all of Sirius' things?”

Hearing that question, Harry sighed visibly.

“I don't know. I was just wondering that myself. If I find a small house then I could fit some of his things in there.”

“House? I thought you wanted a flat.” He felt her arms tighten slightly around his middle reassuring him that this was something she supported.

“Yeah, me too until just now. “House” just kind of popped out of my mouth,” Harry admitted, resting his arm over hers. His hand cupped her elbow near his hip and he stood there for a moment thinking and staring at the white wall above her sink.

“You know what I think?” Hermione questioned, feeling him wavering on the decision to move as a whole. He never was good at making decisions for himself. If it involved saving the world at large, or doing something to protect her or the Weasleys she knew he wouldn't hesitate.

“I'm nutters for trying to pay for a place instead of staying somewhere that is free to me?”

“No, not at all!” Hermione laughed at his answer that was nothing near her thoughts. She felt him turn around in her arms and watched him look down at her, enjoying how he instinctively held her a bit tighter so she wouldn't step away. When she began talking she took a step closer, keeping her eyes locked with his wanting him to take this opportunity to do something for himself.

“I think a small house would do wonders for you. Your own yard to putter around in, a basement to store things you just can't part with. Your own place; that has Harry James Potter written on it. A flat wouldn't hold the furniture you've collected or bought, or even inherited over the years. There are a lot of places in Hogsmeade or even a lot of nice Muggle neighborhoods from here to Scotland that you could look into.”

“So you don't think it's a bad idea?” Harry continued looking down at her and before he could stop himself he reached up and brushed her hair off her shoulder. Shocked he quickly lowered his hand but she didn't seem affected by the simple, yet tender motion. Instead she smiled and answered his gesture, reaching up and trying to smooth down a few strands of his rebellious hair. These little intimate movements they had started doing lately felt like they were taking her a step closer to something fantastic. But, Hermione wouldn't let herself fantasize too much about what that would be. This was Harry! She couldn't jeopardize their friendship over something she did not yet understand. Making a conscious effort to pull her hand away she answered him slowly so that he would know this was his decision, but she stood by him.

“I don't think so at all. You should do what you want, Harry.” Her hand fell to his shoulder willing him to think of just himself, just this once.

“I know. But the more I think about it, the more I keep thinking why get excited about something new only to have my hopes dashed by something unforeseen?” He felt her step back, crossing her arms across her chest and she glared at him.

`Uh-oh, I said the wrong thing…again,' he thought, waiting for her fury.

Her voice was calm and controlled. “Harry James Potter…stop thinking like that. You'll never do anything if that thought keeps floating around your head. Looking for a house, which is sounds like you want, can be fun if you let it. I had a great time looking for flats, trying to envision where my books and furniture would go.”

“I know. I remember how excited you were when you found this place. Though I think you may have outgrown it in the year and half you've live here.” Harry patted the book next to him on the counter then froze. The moment was coming to ask her and his nerves were jumping, much like they had when she had wrapped her arms around his waist. For a moment all he heard was the low volume of the latest football match on her TV, and even that couldn't distract him from the way his heart fluttered, thinking about her living with him.

“I can't afford anything bigger and the places at Hogwarts aren't much…,” she paused and cocked her head watching him carefully, “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said slowly still thinking and mulling over his thought. “I…I think we can solve both our problems.”

“I have a problem?” Hermione asked cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, you could use more room for your books,” he began still not looking at her. His brain was struggling with the thought if asking her to live with him was purely a friendly, financial type of move or something his humming hormones were telling him.

“…then in two years time I would need another place to house even more books. I'll never win my battle over the love of the written word Harry.” She flashed him an amused smile as he raised his eyes to hers, glad he caught the last part of her speech.

“Maybe we could look for a place together,” he said wondering, apprehensively, what her reaction to the thought of them living together would be.

“Sure, I'll help you look,” Hermione patted his arm but was stopped by his hand grabbing hers.

“No, that's not what I meant. A place. Go in on one together. I mean…I could buy one and you could stay there. We could work out rent or…whatever,” he began in a rush knowing she didn't have a lot of extra money to spend. Hermione's mouth dropped perceptibly as she looked at him, her eyebrows drawing up in surprise.

“You…I…Harry…you don't like a lot of people around. Won't my constant presence make you insane?” She seemed to be sputtering many different ideas at once and took a deep breath to gather her thoughts. “I mean…the idea makes sense, very practical, but I don't want to-.”

“I've never had anything larger than a small bedroom as my personal space. Look at me at Grimmauld. I do most of my work at a desk under the window or in my room. You're never a bother, Hermione, but please don't feel like you have to say yes. It was just an idea…,” Harry couldn't finish as Hermione's hand covered his mouth.

“Harry. Don't go bashing yourself. I just want you to think about it; what you are asking. In a years time you may meet someone and want to get married, and I will need to leave-,” she began only to feel him take her hand away from his mouth.

“Well, you could get married too you know. I think that marriage has a better shot with you than me right now. And I wouldn't ask it if I didn't mean it. Let's just drop it-,” Harry tried to talk over her but she stomped her foot in frustration, her hands on her hips now.

“Stop! I was just giving you hypothetical situations, helping you to think it through.” Harry could see she was beginning to get angry and insistent and he didn't want this conversation to escalate to an arguement. Not after a nice dinner and then having that lead to bickering about something as inconsequential, in his mind, as a house.

“I'm sorry…I…I was thinking too much I guess. Shocking I know,” he joked tugging her towards him and enfolded her hands reassuringly. “Just think about it. If you don't want to, no offense or anything taken okay?” He enveloped her in a tight hug, loving how she moved her head under his chin where it always fit perfectly.

“Okay. Thank you for the offer. But you know me, I have to think about it from every angle. I really do like the idea though.”

“Okay. Let me know whenever you're ready.” Harry hesitantly placed a kiss on the top of her head and held her a moment longer. Reluctantly he dropped his arms and headed towards the table to collect the rest of the dishes.

“When are you thinking of doing this? After school I presume?”

“Yep. With NEWTS coming up and final exams, there's no time for me to find anything now.”

“I think you should get an estate agent.” Hermione handed him the bread basket, wadding up the paper napkin and throwing it into the trashcan. “You just need to tell them what you want and they can narrow everything down for you.”

“Good thought,” Harry agreed wondering what he wanted in a place. “Ummm…what do you want in a house?”

Hermione stopped waving her wand causing the dishes to pause in midair on their way to their cabinet. “Harry, this is your place. You should pick what you want.”

The thing was, he really wanted to hear what she wanted in a home. Bookshelves were a plus, he knew, and having two bathrooms was something he had heard her mention in the past. But, did she want a large yard? An attic? Something with a cat door?

“I'd be glad to go with you. Do you want me to find some names of an estate agent also?” Hermione turned her attention to the dishes once again after seeing him nod.

“We both have tomorrow off, but I know you still have to go into school. Why don't you come up with a list of the must haves and I'll look around for a witch or wizard agent. Would you prefer Hogsmeade?” Hermione questioned wiping off the counter, then throwing the sponge into her sink.

“I lived the Muggle life,” Harry said slowly sitting down at a clean table. “I think it's time I lived in the only all-magic village, don't you?”

“I do.” Hermione rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, reassuring him he had made the right decision.

---

“They're going to move in together?” Ron repeated making sure he had heard his sister correctly. He had been in Hermione's living room, watching the TV set she had invested in when they had begun dating, so he never heard the conversation in the kitchen.

“He asked her, and she hasn't given an answer, but I bet Hermione says yes.”

“Huh. How `bout that.” Ron floated back and forth, like he was pacing. “I had always envisioned the three or four of us shacking up together, never just the two of them though.”

“Bothersome?” Draco asked dryly, not shocked to see Ron shake his head.

“Intrigued is more of an accurate description.”

“I think it's just one step closer for Harry. He's making a life change by moving out of the house, moving in with Hermione who seems to be becoming more of a…an…entity-,” Ginny started but was interrupted by Draco, who was lounging on the grass as if sunbathing.

“He's falling in love with her.”

“What?” Ron questioned but Ginny only nodded knowingly.

“Really?” Ron pushed, his tone still even. He wasn't upset, just surprised that he didn't see what Ginny or Draco seemed too with regard to Harry and Hermione.

“Really,” his sister answered. She stretched out next to Draco, mimicking his pose, wishing she could feel the warmth of the sun on her face. Closing her eyes everything was a bit hazier, not dark like when she was human, but it would do.

“I think it's a good thing, Ron. They, or at least Harry, are treading very carefully. There's a fine line between friends and more than friends.”

“And what would that line be, Ginny? A snog?” Ron asked sitting a few feet away from his sister, watching a little boy chase after his dog in the field they were occupying at the moment.

“Well, depends on the kind,” Draco interjected, not moving. “If it's one of those chaste, quick kisses on the lips--no problem. If it's full out, tongue down their throat, then that's where you've crossed the line.”

“So, what if he kisses her on the lips “chastely”? He's never done that that I can remember,” Ginny began just playing devil's advocate. She felt a small amount of joy that Draco was actually discussing this with them, calmly. “Is it still considered friendly if it's something that you don't normally do?”

“I've never seen them kiss on the lips before,” Ron backed up Ginny's comment.

“Well,” Draco sat up and Ginny turned her head towards him. Before she could prepare her self, he swooped down and brushed his lips across hers. A flash of warmth flowed across her mouth then left, right along with him.

“That would be chaste, friendly,” Draco explained to Ron in almost the same even tone he had used earlier. Although, Ginny thought she heard a note wonderment behind his words.

“You just kissed my sister,” Ron pointed out watching Ginny sit up and stare at Draco.

“I felt that,” she told him and both boys looked at her as if she lost her mind. “I mean…it was warm. When I touch Ron or any other Light, or even Ghost, all I feel is them. No warmth, no coolness…just a neutralness.”

“Strange, Ginny. Something to ask Nick maybe,” Ron looked at her calmly. Draco stayed quiet, still sitting cross-legged in the grass.

“I'm leaving. This is boring,” Draco said suddenly, standing up and a second later he was gone.

“What's his problem? He was actually…decent earlier,” Ron asked, standing up, extending a hand to his sister. He felt her pull him closer and plant a quick kiss on his mouth.

“What'd that feel like?” Ginny asked searching his eyes. Ron shrugged, not bothered.

“I felt your touch, but it was like you said…just there. Like my sister kissed me.” He grinned down at her, as she nodded in agreement.

Floating back towards Hogwarts, Ron chatted about the Muggle football game he has watched on Hermione's TV while Ginny tried to figure out why Draco would cause her to feel warmth. For her, touching anyone else who was Light was just like touching a brother.

---

Hermione spread out the two lists on her kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee that Tuesday morning. Harry had given her his list that she requested, apparating into her flat before he went to Hogwarts.

Smoothing out Harry's crumpled parchment next to her neatly folded piece, she compared what they both wanted. As he relinquished his short list, he asked her to make one of what she wanted, or desired, in a house.

“I don't need to see it. Just…make one to see what you want,” he told her after her answer on moving in together.

She had explained to Harry that morning she liked the idea of moving in with him, but would do so only after he was settled. She wanted to make sure that her being around was something he still wanted after he had a taste of living in his own house, alone.

Admittedly, the moment he asked her to move in, she had wanted to jump up and down and shout “yes” and start packing right then. The flush of feelings that ran through her scared her so much she stuttered until her brain went on autopilot and calm, rational Hermione kicked into gear. For the first time in over a year, she was truly excited about something other than watching young minds learn. She wanted to be with Harry as he began moving on with his life; she wanted to be a part of it and see his smile when he was happy, which seemed to be occurring more often.

She stared at the picture of the two of them on her desk taken at Bill and Fleur's wedding four years ago. Looking at that picture watching herself wave, she saw how she and Harry were almost the same height, and for the first time she realized how much older he really was. Not just physically but emotionally in the way he dealt with Ginny and Ron's death. He had grieved but struggled to retain a bit of normalcy by continuing to teach. He was depressed at times, but never cut her or The Weasley's out of his life. Years before, after Sirius' death, he was angry and hurt; secluding himself by not writing to any of his friends. And of course, back then the Dursleys didn't help him much either.

Now, he was performing something quite enormous for Harry Potter…making his own life. She really hoped that she could remain a part of this new chapter of his. However, her heart was whispering that she yearned for something more with Harry than just friendship. That fluttery feeling had been yanked up out of the depths of her soul the moment she head him yell in her hall in the middle of the night. She truly thought something awful had happened and, with the way her body reacted to the thought of him being gone, betrayed what she kept trying to believe were normal, close-friend feelings.

Someone's door slamming out in the main hall forced her to shut the door on her feelings for the moment. She needed to find Harry an estate agent. Smoothing out his list, again, she ran her finger down the parchment.

Harry

1) at least three bedrooms

2) storage for Quidditch supplies

3) attic for Hedwig, with window

4) fireplace with floor level hearth, so I don't kill myself stumbling out after flooing!

5) yard big enough to fly around in, comfortably-or area close by

6) apple trees, or places to plant them

7) relatively secluded

Hermione could tell he struggled with just the seven items on his list as the last two items were written in blue instead of black ink. She had to smile at “apple trees”, knowing he equated them with the Burrow. It was the only place, besides Hogwarts, he viewed as home in the 17 years he was a child. Tucking his list under hers, she was not surprised hers was longer.

1. three bedrooms

2. library, or den

3. cat flap

4. large yard

5. many bookshelves

6. sun room or reading nook

7. secluded

8. telephone capabilities

9. larger bathroom

10. attic

11. Sunny, airy rooms throughout

Running her finger down the columns, she noticed the “wants” they had in common and how Harry felt the need to explain why he wanted what he had listed. She rubbed her forehead wondering if he would ever just want something without knowing the reason, but knew the answer before she even finished the thought…he never received what he wanted until he got to Hogwarts. Even then it wasn't an easy life for him; he really felt that he didn't deserve anything for free. There had to be a reason behind what Harry Potter wanted, one that made sense.

Hermione searched through her desk and found the information of the estate agent she had used to find her flat. She pulled it out hoping the witch that helped her still worked at the Three W. Hermione really liked this agent; she was patient and very astute at figuring out what would work for Hermione.

Witches, Wizards and Warlock Realty (Three W)

Estate Agent Frieda Wallengampit

Owl anytime! Or for those of you with telephones: 44-3WREALTY

Office hours 8am to 6pm, Monday through Saturday

Other hours by appointment

Hermione grabbed her cell phone, not being able to remember the last time she talked on it to anyone other than her parents and dialed the phone number, happy to hear the loud, familiar voice on the other end.

“Miss Wallengampit, this is Hermione Granger, do-,” Hermione began only to be interrupted.

“Of course I remember you, dear! How are you?” the pleasant voice floated over space.

“I'm wonderful, thank you. The reason I am calling is my friend Harry Potter is looking-.”

“THE Harry Potter is looking for a place? That's…” Hermione heard her stop and clear her throat, “…I am sure we can help him out,” Miss Wallengampit quickly recovered from the surprise at hearing the famous wizard's name.

“He and I teach at Hogwarts together and I told him I would help him look for a new house. I have a list of things he would like. Could I give them to you and see what you come up with?” Hermione grabbed a quill, poised to check off the list Harry gave her, number by number.

“Go ahead, dear, I'm ready,” Miss Wallengampit answered and as Hermione read down the list, she could hear the quick scratching of a quill in the background. “And do you know a price range he is looking at?”

Hermione stayed quiet and quickly berated herself for not asking Harry about this issue. Money was never an issue for him, and she learned to never bring it up especially when they had been around Ron and his family.

“I think if you could just get a list together of what is available, he could narrow everything down from there,” Hermione told her bypassing the question. It wasn't her place to tell Miss Wallengampit that Harry could care less what it cost; he was a very rich individual.

“Will do. Should I send this list to him or to you?”

“You can just send it to me. He's busier than I am with the end of the school year. I know he plans on starting to look seriously by the first of July,” Hermione twirled her quill between her fingers as she heard the rustling of parchment in the back.

“Not a problem. I should have a nice stack together by the end of this morning and I'll owl them right over. Your flat is still meeting your needs?”

Hermione gave a small laugh, not ready to tell Miss Wallengampit that she might be moving in with Harry. “I'm fine thank you. I'll call you if I need anything though!”

Hermione hung up and filed the lists under the new folder entitled “House” in her desk drawer. Pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment she wrote Harry a note telling who she got in contact with and that she would have some of the house specs later that day. She then found Hedwig, who had spent the night hunting with Crookshanks, and gave her the note to deliver to Harry.

That being done, she opened her school bag, found her lesson plans and began reviewing what new information she was going to tell her fifth years about their OWLs. She only taught third, fourth and fifth years while Professor McGonagall managed the other three and also acted as Headmistress. Hermione wasn't sure how she managed to do those duties plus still be Head of House to Gryffindor but everything was running smoothly so far.

For the next few hours she busied herself with making notes, fine tuning the exams for her third and fourth years and ate lunch. Hedwig came swooping back in Hermione's window and skidded to a stop on top of Hermione's desk. Seeing the lunch plate, she dropped the note, stole a cracker and managed to escape out the window before Hermione could catch her.

“Bloody owl!” Hermione sighed and she flipped over the scroll, recognizing Harry's handwriting on the front she unrolled it and read down through his quickly scrawled note.

Hermione,

Got your message and thanks for contacting Miss Wallengampit. I appreciate you starting this whole process. If you let me know when those specs come in, I can come take a look at them. I should be done here around six this evening, unless someone needs help with the latest assignment. If that doesn't work for you, you can just send them onto #12 and I'll look at them there.

Love,

Harry

Hermione felt her heart race inexplicably when she saw the word “love” then Harry's quick signature. It was the same feeling she had when he had touched her stomach…and a similar feeling to when she had her first kiss with Ron near the end of their seventh year. The first we-are-more-than-friends kiss.

For the second time that day, she tried to squelch the happy, jittery feelings that threatened to overtake her logical mind.

“No, no no no, Hermione. You cannot be feeling anything like this for your best friend,” she said aloud as if hoping that her vocal affirmation would slow down her racing heart.

`Oh, Hermione. It seems as if you are and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it,' a voice seemed to say outside her ear. Startled she turned around her eyes scanning her small living room. Nothing. Her heart was racing furiously knowing that where ever that comment came from, it definitely wasn't in her head. It sounded like a whisper that barely reached her ear. That much was for sure. Jumping and letting out a small shriek, as a loud “thump” jerked her around, she saw a gray local post office owl sitting on the windowsill, blinking as if bored by his job.

“I am going mental. I truly am,” Hermione mumbled to herself taking deep breaths to slow down her racing heart. She threw her last cracker at the owl who snatched it out of midair and took off. Taking the stack over to her sofa she turned on the Wizarding Wireless hoping that the music, and the packet of twelve house and flat listings, would distract her from the voice she had heard.

---

When Ginny heard Hermione's declaration out loud, she actually smiled and rested her chin on her friends shoulder, happy that Harry at least had someone out there who loved him wholly and completely.

“Oh, Hermione,” Ginny said so Ron wouldn't hear. He was standing behind her a few feet talking with Draco about how Peeves cheats at Poker, so the two of them never even heard Hermione's thought aloud.

“It seems as if you are and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it,” Ginny advised her friend sensing the air move as Hermione swung around and stared right at her, visibly startled. Ginny backed up as Hermione's eyes searched around the room and without her knowledge rested right on Ron who was lounging against her sofa, now looking back at her.

Turning back around to the gray owl at the window, Ginny heard her mumble she was going mental.

“Did she see me?” Ron questioned noticing she had looked right at him. He floated over to stand behind Hermione.

“I don't know. She actually heard something I whispered in her ear. That's a first.”

“I thought humans couldn't hear Light?” Draco asked from his spot against the bookcase.

“Normally…no, but…?” Ginny shrugged, for once not having an answer. Backing up from Hermione's desk she turned and floated down the small hallway and out the door.

“Well, it's a fact that they are in love with each other. But, with the way Granger and Potter are dancing around the issue, they'll both be thirty by the time they realize it.” Draco was staring at his nails as if bored and uninterested in the whole scene before him as he followed them through the building.

“Ah well, as the song goes, “You Can't Hurry Love”,” Ron said and began laughing at his own joke. Then stopped as quickly as he started, surprised by the irregular outburst of emotion.

“Muggle song,” Ginny clarified for Draco. She slowed down and stopped at a park bench, then turned to Ron.

“I heard that the Canons are undefeated. Would you like to go see if they are playing?”

“Of course,” Ron said coolly, ignoring Draco's grumbling. Draco knew he didn't have anything better to do so he drifted off after the Weasley's wondering why they didn't now go pay a visit to Harry at Hogwarts. It seemed to him that Ginny was stepping back for longer periods of time, not watching or being around him. He wondered what that meant, and if it meant that Ginny felt Harry was moving on in the direction she hoped he would.

The fact that he just thought of Harry Potter and his well-being shocked him. Cursing under his breath he began questioning why in the hell he was actually aware of something Ginevra Weasley was doing, or not doing. He spent the next indeterminable amount of minutes watching the ground race beneath their feet, intent on thinking of anything else but Ginny and why he cared, or wondered, why she did what she did.

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6. Green vs. Orange

A/N: thanks to Beta Mabel and my friend Lynney for their proofing and help on this chapter!

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Orange vs. Green

The rest of the week went by so fast Harry could barely keep up. After briefly stopping by Hermione's and going through the list of houses with her, they had narrowed it down to five. The original twelve that were delivered included some large flats which they nixed right away. He ate a quick dinner with her, talked about the study hall proctoring he had to do that day and how the students were so stressed and tired many of them fell asleep on their notebooks. Hermione could sense he was stressed by the way he moved---tight and controlled. He wasn't relaxed, stretching out his long legs away from the table or dangling a hand over the chair to scratch Crookshanks. His mind didn't seem to fully be on the specs in front of them and after twenty minutes she could see him getting frustrated at comparing and contrasting the homes. Using the excuse she had to get ready for class the next day, she gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and sent him back to Grimmauld, potential houses in hand, hoping he was relaxing a bit at home.

By Saturday morning, Harry finally felt caught up. Hogwarts was in quiet chaos with the end of the term so near; students were studying hard while teachers were more than ready for the summer, Harry included. After talking to McGonagall about a Quidditch club (he had good news for Christy Bell) he found out he wouldn't have to report back to Hogwarts to work on renewing the wards until the second week of July.

With all that happened during the week, he barely had time to talk to Hermione, let alone get ready for Neville and Luna. Since the bedroom was done, he concentrated on cleaning out Hedwig's cage and checking for any of the dead mice Crookshanks hid where Hedwig couldn't get to them. Soon Neville, with Luna in tow, would be apparating in and Hermione would be coming over so they could rehash their years at Hogwarts, concentrating on the lighter more fun times. Firewhiskey would probably be consumed, courtesy of Fred and George who acquired it at a deep, discounted price.

Harry finished his breakfast and looked over the house listings in front of him, jumping as Hermione appeared next to him.

“Good morning,” Hermione greeted breezily, walking over to Harry.

After glancing over his shoulder to see what he was reading, she bent down to peck his cheek. Looking up to return her greeting caused her lips to brush his, which was not the intended destination. For a moment they both froze, wearing identical expressions of amazement.

“Sorry,” Hermione gasped, “you moved at the last minute.”

“It's okay,” Harry told her quickly, flashing her a grin. “Best thing all morning.”

“Harry…,” Hermione warned and actually blushed as she turned around to make herself a cup of coffee giving them both a moment to gather their senses about them. Cup in hand, she joined him at the table and they talked houses, exams and about the new Weasley grandchild due early next year.

When the engaged couple apparated into Grimmauld, several hours later, hugs, handshakes and kisses on the cheeks were exchanged. Luna immediately began talking about wedding plans and asked both Harry and Hermione to stand up in their wedding, which would be late August. Harry and Hermione both accepted and after going out to lunch, they went back to Harry's and cracked open a bottle of firewhiskey toasting the very first wedding of their mutual school friends.

------

They had been drinking and snacking since four o'clock that afternoon, so when Luna first mentioned the presence she felt, Harry chalked it up to her being quite tipsy.

“You know Harry, you're very much loved; you know that, right?” Luna asked, her blue eyes roaming around the living room, not quite resting on Harry for any length of time. It was as if she was following something only she could see. Harry glanced at Hermione who gave a slight shrug and a little smirk; they've heard strange things from Luna, similar to this, many times.

`Very much loved?' he repeated to himself, wondering if he heard her correctly. With Luna, anything that came out of her mouth, if you weren't prepared for it, sounded strange.

“Er, okay?” he replied cautiously not sure where this comment might lead too. Neville remained quiet, used to Luna's strange remarks.

“I mean…the vibe in here is incredible. Do you feel anything surrounding you or your house?” Luna now looked at him, then a point over his shoulder. He briefly saw Hermione's eyes flick in the same direction then back at Harry, waiting for his answer. Sitting at the other end of the couch, with Luna across from him, he turned around and looked; nothing but the stairs to the bedrooms.

Turning back around, he cast his glance over Hermione who was watching him carefully, then let it fall on Luna, who was watching him with the same rapt attention. “I feel a bit tipsy that's all,” Harry told her holding up his third glass of firewhiskey but Luna shook her head like a teacher indicating that he gave the wrong answer.

“I feel…,” she paused and frowned for a second, then a pleased smile took its place, her blue eyes sparkling as they swung in his direction.

“Harry, Ginny wants to talk to you,” she said so suddenly that both Hermione and Harry jerked upright where they had been lounging at each end of the couch, their attention now fully honed in on Luna. Even Neville glanced at her in surprise.

“That's not funny Luna,” Neville said slowly, gently taking her half empty glass from her hand. She shook her head and glanced at him briefly, her many silver necklaces making slight clinking noises as she moved.

“She's here, Nev, in spirit form of course…she wants me to tell Harry that she is waiting for him to be happy.” Luna was now staring at the carpet as if deep in thought. Neville gaped at her but it was Hermione who broke the silence.

“Luna! This is NOT funny.” Hermione leaned forward and her voice had the no nonsense tone all around it as it reached Harry, who was sitting like a statue at the other end of the sofa. His hands wrapped around his now empty glass, willing it not to break as he processed what Luna had just declared. Every nerve in his body felt like it was exploding; like the fireworks he had seen years ago at the Quidditch World Cup. He tried to concentrate on the air around him, trying feel Ginny's presence but all he felt was a slight tilt to the room and the awareness of Neville and Hermione's gaze.

“Only after you're completely happy, she says, then can you move on.” Ignoring Hermione's warning, Luna now looked up at Harry who stared at her, eyes wide behind his glasses. His mind was struggling to keep up with what she was saying. The three glasses of firewhiskey had slowed his brain and common sense way down.

“I'm not quite sure what to make of you saying this, Luna. Ginny is…gone,” Harry told her, slowly, hoping she understood him.

`Maybe I passed out and this is a dream. A very strange dream,' he heard himself thinking. Suddenly, he felt a body next to him and turned, surprised to see Hermione pressed up against him. Her lips were very near his ear and for a brief, almost horrifyingly exciting moment he thought she was going to kiss it.

`I am really drunk I believe,' Harry said clearly, he thought, to himself.

“You don't have to listen to this you know, and you're not that drunk,” she said quietly for only him to hear. Harry started, not realizing he had said that last thought aloud. His attention was brought back to Luna as she cleared her throat and began speaking.

“She knows you don't believe she is here, but she is. Ron is out watching a Quidditch match with…Draco?” Even Luna looked surprised as she said his name and Neville stared at her.

“You're trying to tell us the three of them hang out? Luna, I think that first glass of firewhiskey has been your last.” Neville made a move to help her up but she stopped him with a wave of her hand.

“Luna if what you are saying is…true, I need some kind of proof. I know everyone wants me to be happy. I hear it, and have heard it, all the time,” Harry said in a firmer voice than he thought he could. Inside he was shaking, almost believing that Luna was indeed channeling Ginny's thoughts from wherever she may be.

“Okay…proof,” Luna was quiet as she stared back down at the carpet. Harry shifted in his seat, feeling Hermione's hand come up to his back, steadying him.

“She says you have a small mole between your shoulder blades.”

“I do?” Harry was visibly surprised and almost slapped Hermione's hands away as she yanked up his shirt and looked. Sudden movements around him still made him jump making him want to yank out his wand and hex away.

He shifted uncomfortably as he felt her light touch in the middle of his upper back. She applied gentle pressure making sure he could feel where she was touching.

“You do, Harry,” Hermione said quietly, pulling his shirt down slowly as if stunned, then clasped her hands in her lap.

“I do?” he repeated dumbly, then shook is head for a moment. “I never look at my back in the mirror.”

“Maybe Neville mentioned that once to you, Luna. After all he and Harry roomed together for almost seven years,” practical Hermione said, looking pointedly at Neville. He just shook his head.

“I don't look at people that closely, Hermione.”

“Ginny says,” Luna began, garnering everyone's attention once more, “…what? I can't say that aloud!” Luna seemed to interrupt herself and Harry felt himself turn a shade paler. Luna certainly seemed to be conversing with someone, that much he was convinced about. Though, with whom, he was uncertain. He certainly couldn't rule out that it was a voice in her head.

“Harry, I need to whisper something to you.” Luna said it such finality and in such a way that it truly did remind Harry of Ginny, just a bit. She could be very forceful when she wanted something to go her way. Many times he had given in to a purchase or a place she wanted to go, just because he couldn't think of a compelling reason not to. He also realized it would be nearly impossible to win any argument with her if she had it in her mind that she was right.

“Luna, if you can't-,” Hermione started putting a hand on Harry's knee. He shook his head, silencing her. He was still capable of making his own decisions, and Luna seemed to be very serious, so he gently removed her hand. Standing up he took a moment to make sure the room wasn't tilting anymore and walked over to where Luna now stood near his desk. He leaned down for her to whisper in his ear while holding the desk; his eyes seeking strength from Hermione's dark gaze from the sofa.

“She told me that once you guys were an item, she asked you what your first thoughts were, down in that chamber when you thought Quirrell, er…You-Know-Who was going to kill you because he wanted the philosopher's stone. She told me that you told her your first thought was, “What will Ron and Hermione do?” and the second was how you would finally get to see your parents.” Luna pulled back a bit and Harry's eyes shifted to her pale face, feeling as if all the blood rushed from his head. He suddenly found himself sitting in a chair with Hermione's hand firmly planted on his head, pushing it between his knees, aware of her angry voice.

“Luna what did you say to him? He just about fainted!”

Neville was pressing a glass of cold water into his hands, which he now found the strength to take and hold.

“I told him something only Ginny knew and from the looks of it, it's true,” she said, lightly resting a hand on Hermione's shoulder. “I'm not doing this to be mean or to hinder him. When spirits choose me and I think it helps the other person, I'll participate. She just wants Harry to be happy and…for you to be, too.” Luna took a step back as Hermione pushed herself in front of her, squatting down to Harry's level, hands on his knees.

“You okay?”

“Give me a minute,” he said weakly, feeling her take the glass and set it on the floor. Harry clasped his hands behind his neck as if shielding himself from any other truths that might come raining down unexpectedly.

“Did…what Luna say…was it true?” Neville asked tentatively returning from the kitchen where he deposited the empty Firewhiskey and Butterbeer bottles.

“Yeah,” Harry intoned dully, feeling the pounding slowly recede from his head. Hermione's hands rubbed his shoulders and that helped, tremendously, for him to regain his footing.

“She just wants you to be happy, and to not feel guilty for moving on with your life. You deserve it and as much as she wishes she could be a part of it, she knows it's not possible. You moving on with your life, marrying and having children will bring her and Ron the greatest joy. For each of you,” Luna's mouth curved into a smile. “She also apologizes for making you almost faint. She's gone now.” Luna stopped her pacing around the sofa and plopped herself next to Neville.

“You okay Harry?” Luna asked in a genuinely concerned voice.

“Yeah.” He kept his head bowed, trying to bring his emotions under control. The mixture of disbelief mingled with the painful memory of remembering a happy, carefree Ginny was draining all his energy at the moment. He reached down next to him and felt for the glass of water. With help from Hermione he took a few sips, feeling the metallic taste of shock disappear from his mouth. He dropped his head again, taking deep breaths, barely aware of Neville moving the glass to the desk so he didn't knock it over.

“We'll talk a bit more in the morning if you want. I'm sorry if I caused you any pain, but she truly wants you to be guilt free and happy; almost impossible to accomplish half of that given the circumstances, I know. But she knows, as do I, that you can do that. She wanted me to reassure you she isn't spying or anything. If you want her to…return…she will. She'll know when you want her to,” Luna said softly, standing and wrapping an arm around Neville's waist, apparently just as drained as Harry was after the last few minutes of excitement.

“Come on, let's go to bed and give Harry time to recover,” Neville suggested and within moments both disappeared upstairs, leaving Hermione crouched down in front of Harry who was still staring at the floor.

“Harry. Look at me, please?” Harry lifted his head almost colliding with Hermione's chin. She pulled back but kept her hands on his shoulders anchoring him to the real world. “How are you really? Was that stuff she said true?”

Pulling off his glasses he set them down on his desk then rubbed the bridge of his nose nodding his answer.

“It was. And it was only something she would know. Something I had never thought of until she asked and I thought it wouldn't be worth mentioning to anyone else. Why would she be…here?” Harry's voice pulled at Hermione's heart. He sounded like he did on the one year anniversary. Sad, a bit lost and overwhelmed.

Hermione bit her lip trying to word her next question without sounding like she was prying into a private moment. “Do you…think you could tell me what Luna said to you?” Without any reservation Harry repeated the words Luna said; the very same ones he spoke aloud to Ginny almost two years ago.

“We both know Ginny and how she likes everyone to be happy. It's probably true, if you believe Luna, that it is truly what Ginny wants.” Hermione gripped his shoulders feeling his knees press into her stomach as she leaned towards him so he could see her clearly. Hermione's heart lifted as he told her, helping her to believe that he didn't harbor any deep dark secrets from her. She thought she knew Harry pretty well, better than their other friends and if someone asked her what he thought at that moment he faced Quirrell, she would've said the same thing he did.

Finishing his thought he lifted his head a bit, “I believe her. Strangely enough I know it would make Ginny happy to see me moving on. I've come to that point over the past year, that I do want to move on,” Harry admitted, his eyes searching her face. She looked so concerned he managed a small smile for her benefit. “I'm okay. Just one of the stranger things that has happened to me over my life of twenty years.”

Hermione nodded. Her hands were gripping his shoulders, rather tightly, making him wonder how she was dealing with the Luna/Ginny experience.

“How're you doing?” he whispered. Instead of her usual, `I'm fine, honestly, Harry,' she slowly slid her arms around his shoulders and hugged him gently. As he held her, he felt his emotions begin to level out and his mind started doing the “crazy game”, he had taken to now calling it. Picking up on the scent of Hermione's shampoo, the curve of her shoulders under his arms seemed to start overtaking any ghostie thoughts that had been spinning around in his head after Luna/Ginny's speech.

“I'm okay,” she mumbled, finally, against his shoulder.

“I'm thinking I'll have all sorts of dreams I could write books about tonight,” Harry admitted, letting his hand smooth down her curly hair. “I'm beat now.”

“Do you want me to stay? I could sleep on the sofa,” she whispered in his ear. Her cheek was now pressed against his and he closed his eyes savoring the feel of her so close to him. Hermione's presence had superseded Ginny's and in the back of his mind he realized that this may be what Ginny meant about moving on.

“I'm fine,” Harry said automatically.

“No, you're not. I'll stay at least until you fall asleep.”

“Alright,” he sighed, “if you want.” He felt her nod in agreement and for a moment they held each other, cheek to cheek. All he needed to do was pull back a small ways and he could kiss her.

As that thought entered his head he pushed it back. After just “hearing” Ginny, Harry realized that those weren't the appropriate kinds of thoughts he should be having; it made him feel a tiny bit guilty too. Pulling away he helping her to her feet and stood up, glad the room seemed to be on firmer ground. Silently, Hermione followed him up the stairs not aware that Harry was inwardly yelling at himself for thinking about kissing Hermione. And now, he realized, he was leading her to his room, instead of insisting on the sofa.

`Damn Firewhiskey. This whole evening has been a bloody mess,' he thought to himself as he entered the loo off his room.

After they visited the small bath, with Hermione transfiguring a comb into a toothbrush, Harry collapsed on his bed fully clothed sans his glasses. He felt Hermione take off her shoes and climb on top of the covers next to him, not hesitating in turning and facing him then reaching out and resting her hand lightly on his chest. Moving his hand up he grasped it tightly, eyes still closed. The room was spinning slightly, now that he was prone on his bed.

“Do you need to talk about anything?” she asked quietly, her head on the pillow next to him. Through his shirt she could feel the steady thump of his heart and she realized that it was something she had never felt before in all the years of knowing him. The heart of “The Boy Who Lived”, “The Chosen One”, “Savior of the Wizarding World”, (all ones he hated) beat under her fingertips. So few people got to feel this about him, though she never doubted many wanted to, but this beautiful feeling was all hers for the moment.

“No, thanks. `Night Hermione,” Harry mumbled, squeezing her hand. She whispered it back to him as she leaned over and brushed her lips across his forehead, always pausing on his scar.

----

He was the one who usually had the nightmares. Not her.

Sowhen Hermione woke up to Harry grabbing her arms, hearing herself yelling his name, she didn't know who was holding her and tried with all her might to get away. She sat up trying to run, but was held back, frightening her even more.

“Hermione! Wake up…you're dreaming!”

The sound of Harry's determined voice, not the horrific yell that she had dreamt came from him, caused her eyes to snap open and in the dim light she saw Harry kneeling in front of her. She was sitting on the bed sideways like she was getting ready to stand up. For a moment all she heard was her ragged breathing. Harry's hands relaxed but didn't lose their hold as she began to take stock of herself.

Tears were running down her cheeks, her heart felt like she had just run around the Quidditch Pitch at full speed and the dream with Voldemort was still vivid in her head. Until now, she had never had such a vivid nightmare involving him. Somehow she had escaped that horror, though she wished she could've taken the ones Harry had just so he could sleep the first week they were allowed to rest.

It was her careful, methodical research that eventually led her to find the curse that would release Voldemort's soul from the Horcruxes. And when Harry finally told her the last one was his scar she hadn't believed him. In real life, he convinced her to trust him and with a sense of fear she preformed it, watching him collapse as a white, wispy figure of Voldemort vanished in flames as it searched for its original host.

All went wrong in her dream which had effectively turned it into a nightmare. Instead of an orange pulsating light coming out of her wand it was green and she hadn't been able to stop it. She had heard Voldemort's evil laugh as Harry fell, much like the one he did before the three of them turned their wands on him in real life.

Four winters ago, they had pressed together with Harry in the middle fighting THE battle. Harry had suggested they all try thinking of spells they could use, one right after another no matter how small or insignificant the spell or hex seemed to be.

He hoped it would cause interference on Voldemort's Occlumency and also confuse him as they tried to let as many spells fly as possible. Voldemort knew they were coming before they had even seen him and much to his nature, Voldemort wanted to properly duel to the death. Every spell Voldemort shot at him, Harry managed to deflect or escape. Hermione and Ron's spells would sometimes intersect sending a scattering of sparks in time to let Harry get off a spell of his own.

Sectumpsempra didn't work, but he didn't expect it too. The every trusty Stupefy was easily deflected by Voldemort also. But, Harry managed to keep these inconsequential spells flying and with the help of his friends, shielded behind him, he was keeping himself alive until he saw his chance.

Letting fly the Imperious Curse towards Harry, Harry deflected it, causing a small frown of surprise to cross Voldemort's face. In that one heart beat, where Voldemort was truly confused, Harry muttered the counter curse, forcing Voldemort to release his own part of his soul. Cessciddium. To withdraw and kill. No wonder they hadn't been taught it in DADA, Ron had mentioned when Hermione found their answer. Harry had performed it on the locket and when it had seemed to worked, successfully, they stuck with that spell.

Four years ago, as Harry uttered that four syllable word, Voldemort had screamed in agony, suddenly erupting in flames and with an air sucking “woosh,” his ashes disappeared with the cold winter wind. Harry had then fallen to the ground, void of any energy and in pain from the beating he had taken both physically and emotionally. In her dream, it was Harry that yelled out when he saw the green, instead of an orange light explode from her wand. He then proceeded to fall lifelessly to the ground.

“Hermione, are you okay?” Harry's hand pushed back damp strands of hair from her forehead until she looked at him meeting his gaze.

Hurtling herself to the present she took a few deep breaths and shakily let them out. Resting his hand on her shoulder he waited for some confirmation that she was indeed awake and coherent.

“I'm okay now,” she whispered, making slow movements to get back on the bed. Harry watched her the whole way, noticing the tears she was wiping off her cheeks with the palms of her hands.

“I hate those nightmares.” Harry laid down next to her, wrapping an arm under and around her shoulders. Rolling towards him she nodded, glad he wasn't pushing her to tell him about what she dreamt. Under her hand she could feel Harry's heart beating as wildly as hers causing her to realize she must've scared him as much as the nightmare scared her.

“I'm sorry,” Hermione whispered clutching his shirt in a fist now, anchoring herself to this reality; the one where Harry was talking reassuringly to her.

“Don't be. You can't control what you dream about,” Harry reassured her, touching her curled hand. As if by magic Hermione's tense fingers opened and slid between his, gripping tightly making sure he was still there and still alive. Thoughts like mini nightmares ran through her head about what it would feel like, what she would do, if he did die. She felt a chasm open up in her chest producing a shudder and gasp that shook her to her core.

“What's wrong?” Harry questioned softly, feeling Hermione's breathing turning erratic.

“I don't know…I mean I do…I just…Oh God Harry, that dream…instead of the Cessciddium Curse I performed the Avada Kedavra on you…it was awful,” her voice reverberated through his chest and he didn't know what to say, what to do, except to continue his reassurances. Gently, he pulled the hand intertwined with his up to his shoulder, forcing her to lift her head and look up at him. Even without his glasses he could still see she was upset and her tense body against his side clued him into that fact as well.

“I'm not going to die,” he declared in what he hoped was a firm, believe-me voice. Hermione let her head fall back to her pillow but kept her eyes fixed on his face.

“Harry,” she began in the voice he knew meant she was going to argue. Tiredness rang through her words, but the sharp tone was still evident. Closing his eyes he thought of some way to make her believe him. Releasing her hand he turned to his side and mirrored her position, opening his eyes to see her watching him.

“Hermione. Trust me,” he whispered, touching her face so she wouldn't look away. Instead, she leaned in and touched her forehead to his, cupping his rough cheek. He could see her biting her lip, struggling to not argue with him, to place her trust in him yet again. “Trust me,” he repeated, almost pleading with her to do so.

She lifted her forehead and looked straight at him. The feelings that coursed through her from the moment Harry shook her awake were even stronger as he touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers. With a slight curl of those same fingers he brought her mouth to his.

In that brief moment each would remember, for the rest of their lives, the reality of how deep their friendship was.

Very lightly, calling upon all the control he had both magically and Muggle, he let his mouth rest upon hers, and not push the kiss, he then whispered “trust me” one more time. He fought the urge to pull her to him and feel more of what it was like to kiss the woman that was making his heart race. Instead, he let his hand drop as he pulled away. The sound of her rapid breathing reached his ears and from the lack of words and her wide eyes, she seemed stunned. After a moment, she dropped her hand slowly to her leg and nodded, mutely.

Reassured that she wasn't going to haul off and smack him for kissing her in a way he never had before, he smiled and saw her smile, shakily, in reply. Turning around she lay back down on her left side.

“You're the only person I trust that much Harry,” she whispered so softly he had to raise his head off the pillow to hear her. Confused, he moved closer feeling his body seeking hers. He fought with his erratic thoughts and hormones to keep a few inches of safe space between them. Touching her lips with his had awakened a desire he didn't know he had. Sexual, yes he knew he had that. But, the desire to just be near her, protecting her was different now than in their seventh year. He couldn't quite reason why or how it was different, so he turned back to her comment, wondering exactly what she meant.

“How much is that Hermione?” he asked, now propped up on his elbow looking down at her. She refused to turn over and look at him but she did answer.

“Trusting you with my life that you won't lose yours. I can't bear that thought. If something happened to you…,” she began but couldn't finish as her voice caught. Harry felt his heart blossom at those words and tentatively reached out and touched her hip hoping he wasn't overstepping his bounds. He already kissed her, and now was purposefully touching her, trying to let her know in a non-threatening way, how deeply he cared about her.

“I feel the same,” he answered back and thought that this time he did have the right words, because her hand touched his, the one on her hip, and held it until they both fell asleep.

---

“How was the visit you paid to your mother's?” Ginny asked as Draco came floating through the wall of the dungeons.

“As well as it can go without her realizing I'm there. She was re-reading the note I wrote.” Draco floated over the table where yet another poker game was taking place. Peeves wasn't playing this time around so Ron was actually winning.

“How'd she seem today? Any better?” Ginny asked as she fiddled with a deck of cards. Draco's eyes went from Ron's hand of cards to Ginny, who was staring at her fingers which were spinning a deck of cards in a small circle on the table.

“Hey, where'd you get that deck? Peeves said he'd never tell Ron….” Draco came over and took the box from her loose fingers and opened it, making sure all 52 were present.

“I asked nicely. He actually pulled one out from behind a statue in the Great Hall…he says it's the last deck he has.”

“Probably not.” Draco lowered himself to table level and began shuffling the cards as Ginny agreed with his assessment of Peeves truthfulness.

“So, your mum?” Ginny raised her eyes and found him staring at her. He looked as if he wanted to ask her something, but at the last minute he changed his mind.

“Okay, I guess. Had a friend over and was talking to her about how she could've prevented this…blah blah blah.”

“Could she have prevented this?” Ginny asked softly and Draco took that moment to look down and shrug, continuing to shuffle.

“Mostly likely not. My friends moved on; I would be labeled for the rest of my life, and the thought of living another few years in that house not being able to do much? No. She's better off….”

“You don't truly believe that do you? It's not easy when a parent loses a child,” Ginny interrupted, pulling the cards he had dealt towards her.

“In my family, I was just an heir. No tears were ever shed over me.” Draco fanned out his cards and began rearranging them. Ginny wasn't sure what game there were playing so she assumed Rummy and began moving her cards around, trying to formulate a response.

“I'm sorry,” Ginny said simply and he gave another shrug and laid down an eight of hearts and drew a different card from the pile.

“I swung by Potter's place; saw you there,” Draco said nonchalantly moving onto another subject. Ginny paused with her hand on the deck in front of her.

“I didn't see you there. Ron and you were at a Quidditch match, I thought.”

“I was. Got bored; it was a blow out. He came back here and I was bored, so I figured that's where you'd be. Interesting using Loony as a messenger.”

“Just giving Harry and Hermione a nudge, that's all.” Ginny drew a card and placed it in the middle of her hand.

“I was there after you left, Granger stayed you know. In his room.” Draco saw Ginny's head pop up sharply from behind her deck of cards. He winked at her. “Maybe they listened to you and decided to cement their friendship in a way they probably never have before.”

“Draco, that's not how they are.”

“Probably not, but it bothers you doesn't it? That the two of them might be having sex some day and you won't ever get to do that again…I don't think…I don't even know if that's possible or not…being Light, Ghosts, whatever the hell we are,” Draco rambled on then stopped as he noticed Ginny wasn't taking her turn. “What?” His gray eyes found hers and locked on and for the first time, he saw something that mirrored emotion.

“Nothing,” she said shortly and looked down at her cards, placing one down and picking another from the pile.

“Liar. But fine, I'm not going to press.” Draco laid down his entire hand and heard a sigh of exasperation from Ginny as she flipped hers down and shoved her cards towards him.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Draco said lightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “they went right to sleep. No shagging or anything.”

She nodded silently and he couldn't tell if that meant she had heard him or she felt better that Harry and Hermione went right to sleep.

An hour later, Draco figured it meant that she felt better that sleep was what her two friends did because she beat him at every other hand they played.

-->

7. Sunlight

A/N: thanks to Beta Mabel. Also, it's a bit wordy in the beginning, but it's a reflection on both of them and their feelings for each other. Please bear with the fluff! LOL

----

Sunlight

When Hermione woke up the next morning she was startled to see a Hogwarts trunk with Harry's initials sitting against the wall. It took her a moment to realize why she wasn't in her room, opening her eyes to her childhood wardrobe. Piece by piece, as her body began to wake up, last nights events came back in a rush and if it wasn't for Harry's warm body behind her, she would've been up searching for him, making sure he was indeed up and alive. Shifting a bit and rearranging her head on her pillow, she felt Harry press closer, comforting her. His arm which was draped over her side tightened momentarily then relaxed.

Warmth flooded through her, causing tears to well up unexpectedly. His promise last night, sealed with a kiss and everything, was so raw and innocent she thought she might fall apart from the dam of emotions in her heart. For him to kiss her, on the mouth and breathe the words “trust me” had forced her to inhale them and hold onto his promise. His kiss had been full of meaning, full of promise and he had made her believe him from the moment his lips had touched hers feather brushing her arm. He was pressed up so tightly she could feel his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest against her back, solidifying the fact that he was very much alive. As her eyes traced the contours of the trunk, she wondered what it was like for Ginny to wake up with Harry, especially after having intimate moments with him.

Ginny had talked to her a bit about sleeping with THE Harry Potter. She quietly told Hermione how their first time was on his nineteenth birthday and how it was sweet and awkward all at once. Piecing together several different conversations with Ginny, Hermione had learned that Harry was very attentive, moving somewhat slower than what Ginny wanted, almost as if he was unsure of himself; though, Ginny swore no one could hold a match to Harry and professed this knowledge based from the conversations she had with her old school friends and her experiences with previous boyfriends. Ginny had been pretty sure Harry's reputation of being a powerful wizard had crossed over to his intimate side as well. When the conversations turned towards his aptitude in bed, Hermione remembered feeling very uncomfortable and usually changed the subject. There wasn't any way she was going to tell Ginny that Ron seemed just as attentive but could turn goofy in a moment, tickling or blowing raspberries on her stomach.

Feeling a blush rise furiously to her face as she thought more about Harry than she ever had (and recalling that side of Ron) she squirmed a bit, causing Harry to press his knees into the back of hers, seemingly still asleep. Stilling her movements, she concentrated on regulating her heartbeat and breathing, quickly becoming aware of a slight pull that seemed to pulse out of Harry. Concentrating on that faint vibration he was emanating, she rifled through the stores of her mind, trying to figure out what she was feeling. Very slowly, she arched her back off his chest and stomach and felt the pull lessen. Relaxing again, the pull seemed stronger, subsequently leading to her to confirm he was performing something she had only read about.

His magic was creating a kind of shield around him and she had read very powerful wizards could control this in ways that almost manipulated other people and small objects. They could call small objects to them without an accio charm, cause people to feel stronger than usual emotions or even enabling the other person to receive what they are feeling on a bio rhythmic level. Hermione briefly wondered if Harry even knew he was radiating an energy. It certainly made her feel warm, safe and even loved. Half of her wondered if it was intentional. She had been uncharacteristically upset lat night, but she had to admit that the fact that he kissed her (she knew how difficult it was for him to express affection in any way) had been a comforting and a slightly pleasurable way to abate her fears.

Feeling sleepiness over come her again as the first gray light shown through the window, Hermione closed her eyes and listened to Harry's deep, even breathing. Her last thought, as she floated into sleep, was how nice it would be just to lay in bed all day, surrounded by Harry and his warmth.

It wasn't long after Hermione had fallen back to sleep that Harry had woken up to find himself curled around Hermione, holding her tightly against him and for a brief moment he let himself relax and relish the closeness. She fit perfectly, like a puzzle piece he had always known he was missing but hadn't found until now. That thought startled him and his brain raced to figure out what was missing when he was with Ginny. He remembered that she wasn't one to sleep curled up against him as she constantly moved or spread out over the bed. The close contact with Hermione filled him with comfort and warmed him in places that never, until now, responded when he thought of Hermione. Shifting his hips back from her he tried to push back the not-so-pure-thoughts he was having of his friend and was glad when he heard Neville making his way down the stairs. He forced himself to roll out of bed, careful as to not wake up Hermione and took a quick shower, dressing in his bathroom.

As he walked out of the steamy room, he was surprised to see her still asleep, not on her stomach, her hair falling over her cheek. Quickly, before the urge to push her hair back overtook him, he walked out quietly shutting the door behind him.

Lightly, he ran down the stairs and encountered Neville and Luna in the kitchen, drinking juice and feeding Hedwig some owl treats.

“Harry, about last night,” Luna started apologizing but Harry held up his hand.

“Luna, I know you didn't mean anything upsetting by it; you never do. It took me by surprise and seemed a little…surreal to me. I'm okay now.”

“Are you sure? You were really pale there for awhile,” Neville asked sympathetically filling up a glass with pumpkin juice and handing it to Harry.

“Thanks, but I'm okay. Got a pretty good night's sleep.”

“Did Hermione go home?” Luna asked so flippantly that even Harry picked up that she was asking a question when she already knew the answer.

“She's upstairs, asleep,” Harry admitted and he saw Neville smile and wink.

“So you and her…?” He made a motion with his hands for Harry to hurry up and tell him the details.

“No,” Harry quickly interjected, looking down at his juice.

“Not yet,” Luna said in the same flippant voice and saw Harry's face flush a bit. “Be patient Harry.”

“What?” Neville asked looking back and forth. “Patient with what? Luna, you can't be this vague around me….”

“Sorry, Nev. I'm just telling Harry to be patient and in time he and Hermione will be together.”

“How do you…think that?” Harry asked quickly changing his mind from saying “know” to “think”. He busied himself with drinking the rest of his juice, while trying to remain relaxed against the counter. His question was never answered as Hermione came in, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, her shirt un-tucked and wrinkled, crease marks making light patterns on her cheek and her dark eyes were still looking sleepy.

“Morning Hermione!” Neville said brightly, accioing a glass over and pouring her some juice.

“Thanks, Neville.” Hermione took her glass and drained it before saying anything else.

“Luna…you sleep okay after last night?” she asked letting her friend know she wasn't angry about the events that happened. Rifling in the cupboard she pulled out some bagels and cream cheese. Harry found a knife and went through the motions of making a bagel; anything to distract him from thinking that a sleepy Hermione was a very cute sight.

“I did. That wore me out. I've only ever channeled someone once before for my dad. I hope I didn't upset you either, Hermione.”

“I'm fine,” Hermione answered her sleepy eyes drifting over to Harry. He gave her a small smile then bit into his bagel he had prepared, forcing his eyes back to his owl. Obviously, neither Neville nor Luna had heard her cry out in her sleep. “I need to go get a shower at my place, so I'm taking my bagel with me. Did you all want to meet up later?”

“Sure. I have to get ready for next weeks lesson but I'll do that later. I'm free this afternoon,” Harry said watching Hermione prepare her bagel, managing to catch her eye. He wanted to ask if she was alright, if she had slept anymore, but he felt that Neville and Luna didn't need to know about her nightmare.

“Neville and I are going flat hunting, but we'll be back in time,” Luna answered smiling then receiving a quick kiss from Neville. Harry politely let his eyes drift towards Hedwig seeing Hermione give him a small nod, as if answering his unspoken question. Telling everyone she would see them later she disappeared with a small, silky sounding “pop”.

Harry found that he had nothing else to do after Neville and Luna left, so he pulled out the school work he still had to grade, which wasn't a large amount. He had eased up on the homework for his students, remembering how hard he worked at the end of each year, especially when the all important exams were to be taken. Finishing the grading, he took another look at the houses for sale when an idea popped into his head. For a moment he sat there at his desk looking at his calendar seeing that he did have a large block of free time on Tuesday, Friday night, and Saturday most of the day. In another week, school would be winding down and there was no way he could look for houses when he needed to be around to proctor exams. Walking to the floo, he called on Hermione.

“Hi Harry.” Hermione was holding a book crouching in front of her fireplace.

“I had a thought…you know how Luna and Neville are looking for a flat? Well, what if I speed up the house process and if I find something sooner than later, and you could offer then your flat? You know how hard it is to find reasonably priced flats IN Hogsmeade and you are near the--,” Harry stopped, seeing understanding dawn in her eyes.

“Harry! That's a great idea, but...remember? I'm waiting until you're in the house for a bit.”

“Hermione, come on. You know I won't find it any more…scintillating to be on my own there than here, so you should just move in at the same time.”

“Did you just say “scintillating”?” Hermione gaped at him, seeing him smile.

“I did. I do have a few big words tucked up my sleeve you know.”

“Wow, I'd say so,” Hermione shook her head getting back to the subject, “Harry, I really think I should wait.”

“Hermione, just move in at the same time, then we don't have to hire two movers. You know we can't accio or levitate our stuff in the middle of the street. We'd knock someone over,” Harry told her, appealing to her sensible side.

“I don't mind hiring-,” Hermione began stubbornly, but the next thing that Harry said surprised her.

“I want you to. Please. Look with me and move at the same time. If Neville and Luna like your flat, then it'll work for everyone.”

I want you to. Please.

Hermione couldn't stop those words from ringing in her ears and just nodded mutely. She had never known him to be so insistent with her and found she couldn't resist him asking her in that coaxing voice.

“Great,” Harry smiled happily. “I finished my grading, figured I'd call Miss Wallengampit and we could go looking on Tuesday. Are you free then?”

Hermione nodded again struggling to find her words which seemed to have escaped her for the moment. When did the tables flip so Harry was actually planning out his week? She was still stunned at the whole conversation so she just nodded again, giving him a small, unsure smile.

“I'll let you know the specifics then; I'll send her an owl now. I do have a meeting with McGonagall in the morning but I can probably look at three or so in the afternoon.” Harry said goodbye and disappeared from Hermione's fireplace, leaving her staring at an empty grate, wondering when Harry had become confident that almost pleading with her would work in things going his way. It made him happy, the smile that crossed his face had light up his eyes and she figured it was worth giving in. Not to mention the fact that his idea was very practical.

---

After lunch, Harry played a game of chess with Neville, telling him his thoughts of moving. Their conversation steered from finding flats and houses to Draco's death then to Neville's degree. He had taken a position as part owner of an Herbology store in Diagon Alley, where he would supply Hogwarts with the items they needed to instruct their Herbology classes.

“Do you remember Hermione's flat when you were there over Christmas?” Harry asked taking Neville's Castle and getting an earful from his pieces.

“Yeah.” Neville moved his Bishop protecting his King and Queen.

“Well, Hermione said she'd move in with me as she does need a bigger place. Do you think you and Luna would be interested in taking over the rent on her flat?” Harry got Neville into checkmate and his friend sighed.

“Damn…ummm…I think so. Have to check with Luna you know.” Neville moved his Queen then realized that there was no way he was going to win, so he knocked it down, hearing curses from the other pieces on the board. “When are you going to look for a house?”

Harry began picking up the pieces and placing them into the case he had received two Christmas's ago from Ron and Hermione. “We are meeting tomorrow around two thirty with the estate agent.”

“We?” Neville questioned leaning back in his chair, finishing off a bottle of butterbeer.

“Yeah. She's pretty good at asking the right questions and stuff. Plus, I want Hermione to like whatever I buy, too.”

“What happens if…well, you know, one of you gets a significant other…again,” Neville sounded uncomfortable asking the question and Harry didn't blame him. Not many people, except Molly, had asked if they were going to start dating again. She had asked just a few weeks ago and Harry had only shrugged, not knowing how to answer that without making himself, or Molly uncomfortable.

Lifting a shoulder Harry shrugged. “I'm not worried about that. I'll deal with it when or if it comes about.”

“You're bloody Harry Potter…you'll have no trouble finding anyone to date you,” Neville complimented. Harry gave him a shy smile and shook his head hearing laughter break out in the next room. Neville shot Harry a glance.

“Should we go investigate?”

Vehemently, Harry shook his head. “They're watching a movie called, “When Harry Met Sallie” and if you watch it you'll get roped into the same conversation I did.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, `can women and men be just friends without the sex thing getting in the way'?” Harry told him laughing when he saw Neville shudder.

“I think I'll avoid that area. Want to show me the houses you're going to look at?” Neville quickly steered the subject away from sex. Just the mention of it made him turn red and he avoided mentioning the word at all costs. It actually made Harry grin a bit, he knew Neville was easily embarrassed but they weren't sixteen anymore. One day, Neville was going to have to say the word aloud, or even admit that he had sex; especially whenever he and Luna started having children.

Kids. Neville and Luna. That thought made him smile even more and he hid it by turning around and waving his hand in the direction of his desk.

Accioing his specs to the kitchen he laid them out for Neville, showing him the ones he liked best, at least on paper.

-----

Tuesday afternoon was bright and sunny much to everyone's relief. Three solid days of rain had finally ceased and the residents of Hogsmeade were in happier moods than usual. Neville and Luna decided to stay at Hermione's and scope it out, while the two of them met Miss Wallengampit at her office next to Honeydukes.

As Harry held the door to Frieda Wallengampit's office for Hermione, she paused halfway through and looked up at him, confusion apparent in her eyes.

“What's wrong?” he asked quietly, hearing the estate agent talking to someone in the next room. Shaking her head, Hermione quickly passed him and walked up to the counter waving to a gray haired lady in the back. The woman returned the wave and held up a finger telling them she'd be there in a moment; Hermione and Harry took a seat on the wooden chairs that lined the room.

Pictures adorned the walls, occasionally changing from interior views of each room to exterior shots of the front of homes, sides and backs. As Harry's eyes traveled the walls, Hermione was debating with telling him that she felt him radiating that energy again. As soon as she passed by him, her shoulder touched his arm and she felt it grab hold. As she moved away it lessened until now; because they were sitting in different chairs it had faded totally away. The unsettling way it had stopped her in her tracks scared her. It was something she didn't understand and she realized she was going to have to talk to him about it sooner than later. It'd be interesting if Miss Wallengampit felt anything, so Hermione decided to pay closer attention than usual to how someone reacted around Harry.

“Mr. Potter, it's an honor to meet you,” Miss Wallengampit interrupted Hermione's thoughts as she came out from her desk, hand extended towards Harry. He rose and shook it firmly.

“Thank you, nice to meet you. Hermione said you were a tremendous help in finding her flat.”

Miss Wallengampit waved her hand, dismissing his compliment, then shook Hermione's hand. “It's my job, Mr. Potter.”

“Harry,” he said, letting go of her hand.

“Harry. Well, shall we go look at the closest one first? It's a lovely four bedroom right behind Honeydukes.” She directed them out the door, grabbing her bag and wand and following them outside to the busy street. “It's back this way.”

Hermione walked next to Miss Wallengampit talking about her semester at school as Harry took in his surroundings. Some witches and wizards seemed visibly surprised to see him walking about during the day, knowing he taught at Hogwarts. But, being polite, they raised their hand in greeting instead of rushing up to him to chat or ask numerous questions. He was thankful for that. He had enough attention after the defeat of Voldemort, and on the anniversary every year to last him six lifetimes. Nodding in reply, he then turned back to the women in front of him. They had stopped by a pleasant looking house, though it was to close to the street for his taste.

“Shall we?” Miss Wallengampit opened the wrought iron gate and walked up the sidewalk that parted two small gardens. She muttered the password and she pointed her wand at the lock. Opening the heavy wooden door, the three stepped inside and Hermione immediately started walking around looking out windows and in closets. The first thing Harry noticed was how dim it was inside even with the sun out and not a cloud in the sky. Slowly he walked through the rooms, not feeling anything less than ambivalence for the house.

“I don't think so,” Harry said coming out of the dining area, not even making an effort to go up the stairs

“I honestly didn't think so, either. But, I wanted to show it to you since we were close,” Miss Wallengampit agreed ushering them back outside. “Now, let's head on to the other side of town where it is a bit more secluded.”

The three of them linked arms and disapparated from the corner of Honeyduke Alley and appeared near the train tracks. Harry noticed at once it was much quieter, except when the Hogwarts Express would go through and that wasn't too often.

“Much quieter,” Hermione voiced and Harry agreed realizing it was the first time she spoke to him since they had entered the 3W offices.

“Up here on the hill we have a newer home. The owners were transferred by the Ministry to work in Greece, so they are all moved out and anxious to sell,” Miss Wallengampit explained as they walked up a curving stone walkway towards a large, one story home. Instead of a door, there was a blank wall between two windows.

“There isn't a door,” Harry pointed out, but much to his surprise when Miss Wallengampit pointed her wand at it, and whispered a few words, a door the same shade as the blue house appeared.

“They were very private individuals and if there isn't a door, people don't usually bother you,” she took a few steps up to the porch and pushed it open.

Hermione walked through and stood to the side looking around a the nice sized living room. A modern looking kitchen graced the back of the house and looked out over a small grove of trees. Off the kitchen was the living room which merged into a small hall that led down to three bedrooms. As Hermione went into the kitchen he decided to look at the bedrooms but was disappointed to see only one full bath, and that was in the hall. Instinctively he knew one bath wouldn't work. Personally, he had no problems sharing a bathroom with Hermione, but if they had a guest, she would stress out about how cluttered it would look. He didn't think he could conjure up a new bath either, so that idea was out. Feeling only a small sense of disappointment, because it was a nice open house, he truly felt deep down it wasn't THE ONE.

“Well?” Miss Wallengampit asked him as he approached the kitchen. Hermione had her head out the back door surveying the yard as Harry shook his head “No”, feeling guilty that he nixed two in a row.

“Not a problem, Mr. Potter. You need to find the one that is right for you…that's what this whole process is about.”

“It's Harry,” he reminded her as she turned and walked back towards the door.

“No?” Hermione asked as she came up along side of him outside. He shook his head as Miss Wallengampit pointed down the hill, towards Hogsmeade Lane.

“There are two down there if you want to go look. The last one is up towards Hogwarts a bit.”

“We can look at the two down there, then maybe the last one Friday evening? I know Hermione still has paperwork to do.”

“I'm okay, Harry,” she interjected, moving away from him as they walked down the hill. Trying not to make a big issue out of her not walking next to him, he hung back wondering if she was re-thinking her decision to move in. She had been awfully quiet and seemed to be avoiding him the hour they had been together. As he walked down the hill, watching Hermione pointing towards Hogwarts while chatting, he made a mental note to treat her to ice cream before heading back to her flat and ask her what was wrong.

After he nixed two more houses due to one being way to small and the other just being to dark and eerie feeling, he and Hermione were enjoying some ice cream at Fortesque's.

“Hermione is something wrong?” Harry asked timing the question when she didn't have a spoonful of vanilla ice cream in her mouth. She paused in scooping the sides of her bowl for just a moment, and then continued.

“No. Why?”

“You just seem distant. Are you sure you want to move in? I didn't mean to pressure you-,” he began but was abruptly interrupted.

“Harry, I do want to move in with you. I'm just tired, that's all,” she insisted, still working on scraping every last bit of vanilla off her bowl. “Do you still want me to look with you on Friday?”

“If you don't mind,” Harry hedged and she nodded.

“Not at all.” She stood up and tossed her bowl into the trashcan, hearing it burp quietly. She cast a look at Harry's empty bowl and he realized their conversation was over. He wasn't too sure if she was telling him everything, but an hour later she had hugged him at her flat before he, Neville and Luna disapparated to Grimmaould. That one small hug helped him feel a bit better about her actions earlier that day.

He had no clue that as he and his two friends walked around Grimmauld Place talking about who would be best suited to occupy the house, that Hermione was diligently pouring through her Extraordinary Witches and Wizards collections. She was trying to figure out why Harry seemed to be radiating magic that only she was able to discern. Miss Wallengampit seemed totally unaffected when she shook his hand or stood next to him, looking over the spec sheets and this both bothered and intrigued Hermione. She had to find out the answer.

----

Ginny floated up and down Hogsmeade Lane looking at the last house Harry was going to walk through. She hadn't been following them earlier that day; in fact she had been at The Burrow watching her mother play with her grandson. She heard that Fleur was expecting another baby in February, and Ginny secretly hoped it was a girl. Later that evening, she and Ron decided to visit Honeydukes just to enjoy the smells. She then found out all the talk was about Harry Potter and how was looking to move to Hogsmeade. Numerous people had spotted him with an agent from 3W looking at a few houses.

“He had his friend Hermione with him,” a tall dark haired witch said to the elderly wizard behind Honeydukes counter.

“She's a smart one, that witch. Wouldn't be surprised if she was helping him,” he said waving his wand over the counter, watching it magically become clean.

“I heard she's going to move in with him,” the witch gossiped, lowering her voice, even though she was the only customer in the store at the time.

“Might be good for both of them. People are getting anxious you know. Ever since his girlfriend died, no one has seen him with any other witch,” said the wizard, restocking the candy cases with a few flicks of his wand.

“I hear you. I really thought they'd both be out there dating, as cute as she is and as famous as he is, but I bet it's hard teaching and having a social life.”

Ginny felt the need to go search for the homes with the 3W sign in front of them and motioned for Ron to follow her out of the store and down the lane.

“I've wondered why Hermione hasn't dated anyone. I've heard blokes ask her when she's just shopping in town. I think even Seamus asked when they ran into each other a few months ago,” Ron mused, glancing at his brother's store which was locked up tight.

“Knowing Hermione, she didn't feel right dating if Harry wasn't ready at the same time.” Ginny turned left onto Hogsmeade Lane and headed back towards the railroad tracks.

“He seems to be ready now. Maybe Lavender will find out he's moving here. They could have fun together,” Ron mused stopping at the end of a small sidewalk. Ginny made a non-committal noise, remembering the “relationship” he and Lavender had years ago.

Ginny looked at the outside of the house Harry hadn't seen yet and immediately shook her head, then proceeded up the road a bit. She shot past a small walkway then suddenly stopped, backing up right into Ron.

“Let's go up here, Ron,” Ginny called making her way up the dark walk to the house with the shiny roof.

Ron appeared behind her a moment later and let out a low whistle.

“Nice house.”

“Harry needs to look at this one.”

“How do you know it's not on the list?”

“Because this is the Gladrags house and has been up for a year. They want something like two hundred thousand galleons for it and I bet that estate agent doesn't know Harry can afford it. But I feel…he needs this house.”

“Who owned it before the Gladrags did?” Ron floated through the wall and Ginny followed him. As they made their way through the house, they talked about how to find out the answer to his question. Some of these houses had very interesting histories and if the wealthy Gladrags had lived here, it probably had some history to it. They would've called upon that and added it into the price, just for historical reasons.

“I believe Phineas Nigellus originally owned this house, or one of his sons did,” a voice came from behind Ginny as she sat on the porch with Ron.

“Draco, what've you been up to?” Ginny asked conversationally.

“I watched my mother go out to dinner with a friend. First time she actually got out of the house in awhile actually.”

“Good for her,” Ron said swinging his legs back and forth. He was “sitting” on the railing to the porch looking up at the stars in the night sky.

“What're you doing at this house? Moving out of the dungeons?” Draco eased himself down next to Ginny, who again felt something akin to warmth as his shoulder brushed hers.

“Looking for Harry. Ginny here says he must have it.”

“Why?” Draco turned and looked at Ginny who seemed to be staring into the trees.

“I don't know why yet. I just feel this would pretty much…,” she paused trying to word her thoughts aloud, “that this one would make him feel at home more than the others.”

Draco gave a nod but didn't say anything and looked in the direction she was staring. “What're you looking at?”

“Hmm?” Ginny turned and looked at him, catching his gaze. For a moment she searched his features trying to figure out why he felt different and even looked a bit different but she didn't notice any outward signs of change.

I'm just thinking,” she said softly then forced her gaze from him and over to Ron.

“I'm going back, are you two joining me?” Ron floated down and stood in front of Ginny and Draco.

“Be there in a few, Ron,” Ginny said distractedly. Ron disappeared leaving Draco and Ginny alone on the steps. The only sound surrounding them were the distant hoots of owls as they flew over head on their way to or from Hogwarts.

“Not going to go play poker and kick everyone's arses again?” Draco questioned trying to get Ginny to converse. He wasn't sure why she was so quiet but just in the week he had been stuck with them, he knew it wasn't her normal behavior. Being a Malfoy he still had the need-to-know gene and wasn't happy when he couldn't figure something, or someone, out.

“No, it's nice to just sit here, quietly, sometimes,” Ginny leaned back on her elbows and her eyes skipped over the tops of the trees that graced the front lawn of this house.

“You're moping,” Draco pointed out.

“What? No, I'm not,” Ginny retaliated in a sharp voice, shooting up from her relaxed position.

“Yeah, you are. I think you are realizing that Harry doesn't really need you to be happy and as much as you want him to be happy, it still hurts that you are just a memory to him now.”

Ginny turned and stared at him seeing him watching her carefully. “I…what? I never said anything except I want him to be happy.”

“I know, but it's evident from the way you've been so quiet that you're thinking of what the past was like.”

“Who are you to tell me what I need to feel? I've been Light for a year, you've been here a week!” she said angrily. Her words drew a smile across Draco's face. “Stop being so smug! And I don't appreciate-,” Ginny continued but a moment later she felt his mouth on hers. Shocked she sat there, completely still as warmth flooded her chilled form.

“Shut up and let me finish,” Draco whispered against her mouth and mutely she nodded, their eyes locked onto to each other. For a moment, Ginny wondered if this was the same Draco Malfoy that attended Hogwarts with Ron. That Draco would sooner push her off the porch and laugh, than lean in and kiss her. The unfamiliar flood of emotions rendered her speechless and motionless so she had no choice but to listen to him.

“I think that one of my jobs here is to help you. You've become something akin to Potter's guardian angel and he's never needed one; with all the times he has survived, he has one already or he's incredibly lucky. Or, maybe he does actually know what he's doing. Anyway, he's moving on with his life now, and I think once you see that he is happy, whatever that takes, then it's going to be very hard for you to let go and move onto the next `great adventure', as you say. Then again, maybe I'm here for my own personal reasons, making sure my mother is happy and all that crap. Either way though, you need to realize now how attached you still are to him, and to Granger too. You need to come up with a way to become unattached without hurting yourself more than you are hurting now.”

With that being said, Draco sat against the post, crossed his arms and looked at her as if daring her to argue against anything he just told her.

For once, Ginny had nothing to say. Not only did that unexpected warm kiss shock her senseless, the thought that maybe some small part of what Draco Malfoy had said was true kept her mind reeling. Without saying anything, she stood up with Draco following her, and she floated above the trees back to Hogwarts, fully aware of him watching her from behind.

-->

8. White House

White House

Harry stared at the spec sheet he was holding, willing himself to make a decision. Hermione was quietly talking to Miss Wallengampit on the porch of the latest house he had gone through. He liked two of the houses, the last ones he had seen, but none of them pulled him in. A passing breeze rustled the paper out of his fingers and it fluttered a few feet away, landing softly on the grass. Bending down to retrieve it, it was lifted aloft again and this time floated a good way down the sidewalk until coming to rest under a tree.

“For bloody sakes,” Harry grumbled, not in the best of moods. This wasn't fun anymore for him and he could see Hermione was getting a bit impatient that he hadn't made a decision yet. He walked quickly to the tree and snatched it up before it could float away again. As he did, his eyes caught the flash of something bright between the trees drawing his attention to structure behind the small grove. Walking a bit further he saw a 3W sign floating at the end of a tree covered walkway.

“Harry!” Hermione yelled cupping her hands around her mouth, “What're you doing? Wrong way!” Harry looked back at her and then down the walkway to what he knew ended at a house. He stood his ground and waved Hermione over with Miss Wallengampit not far behind.

“What's down here? I see your sign but never saw a spec sheet for,” Harry glanced at a wooden sign nailed to the tree, “Seventy-three-and-a-half Hogsmeade Lane?”

“Oh,” Miss Wallengampit waved her hand as if dismissing the idea. “This house is way over priced. The original owners, the Gladrags, won't let it go for less than two hundred thousand galleons. They've moved on to Paris and pretty much have all the time in the world to sit on this house to get what they want out of it. I didn't think you wanted to spend that much on a home, being that you're so young.”

“Well, I'd like to see it and be the judge of that myself…please,” Harry told her with a note of authority in his voice that Hermione hadn't heard at all in the past year. Standing next to Harry she could feel that strange force radiating from him; noticing it was much stronger than before. As Miss Wallengampit nodded and raised her wand to accio the paperwork, Hermione took Harry's arm to move him aside for a private conversation, but was amazed to feel a kind of magic surge up her arm and straight down to the pit of her stomach exploding in a warmth. With a small “oh” she jumped back and stared at her hand then his arm. Harry glanced down at her, eyebrows raised at her sudden movement.

“What?”

“What's up with you? You're radiating magical energy all over the place!” Hermione blurted out, shoving her hands in her pockets so she wasn't tempted to touch him again. The feeling that coursed through her, for the few seconds her hand lay on his arm, shot to her very core and sent blood pounding to places that should not be that sensitive while standing in the middle of Hogsmeade Lane.

“I am? No one has said anything about it and I was at school all morning.” He looked down at himself, arms spread wide and Hermione couldn't help by smile at the simple gesture. “I feel fine. I just want to go see this house, that's all.”

He turned back towards the lane and glanced down the walkway. All he could see was a white house with a shiny roof, and the numerous trees that seemed to shade it from the road. It was set back about thirty feet from Hogsmeade Lane and the whole length of the yard, from the street to as far as he could see was covered with trees.

“Okay, here it is. Let me know if you have any questions.” Miss Wallengampit walked up and traded spec sheets with Harry. He began reading down through the parchment as the three of them walked down the walkway.

“73 and a half Hogsmeade Lane—listed May 1.

G200,000

Built in 1888, this spacious house is one of the newer homes in Hogsmeade. Numerous trees shade this three level abode from the street, but once they reach the house fade away into open land. The property sits on three acres and the outermost edge of the property borders the railroad. A small porch adorns the front of this home as well as a stone patio in the back. Once inside you are greeted by a nice sized two story foyer with marble and limestone floors. On the main floor there consists a living room, a new kitchen, bathroom and a large, sunny office/library. Upstairs, you will find three large bedrooms and one small den, along with two full baths. One full bath is housed in the master suite, which has a gorgeous view of the countryside out the back of the house. In the basement, the older kitchen is still in working order as well as ample storage space for anything you may have. The attic is accessible to owls, bats and eagles. Two fireplaces are accessible for flooing; one in the master bedroom and one in the living room. The current owners, Gladius and Principella Gladrags have been the owners for the past fifty years and have made every magical update imaginable.”

Wordlessly, Harry handed the paper to Hermione who was keeping a longer than usual distance from him. Standing on the porch, giving Miss Wallengampit privacy to cast the appropriate password charm, Harry took time to appraise the outside. It was white brick with a shiny, silver roof. The porch was small but covered, and there were four sets of windows on either side of the porch. A large wooden door squeaked slightly as it was pushed open.

“Here we go, Mister Potter-.”

“Harry,” both Hermione and Harry corrected and he laughed softly. “Please,” he added and Miss Wallengampit nodded, stepping to the side so Harry could take in the two story foyer. Looking up he saw a walkway to what must be the bedrooms connected to a curving, carpeted staircase. His eyes followed the stairs down, where he saw Hermione looking at the banister. Her hand was tracing a pattern he couldn't discern, and then she looked up. For a moment he forgot everything else about the house. His vision seemed to zero in on the way she stood at the bottom, poised as if she was going to climb the stairs and the emotion that flooded him rendered him speechless. The house seem to fit her perfectly. In his minds eye, he could see her walking up those stairs to her bedroom, carrying a book or a glass of water and she looked so at home he knew, right then and there, he needed this house.

“Harry?”

Harry started and swung his gaze to Miss Wallengampit who regarded him curiously.

“Would you like to walk down this way and look at the other rooms?”

“Sure,” Harry agreed walking behind Hermione as they moved past the stairs and into the living room.

---

As Harry walked into the sunny office/library, hearing Miss Wallengampit's footsteps echo away from them down the hall, he also heard the unmistakable sound of Hermione's gasp. He was about to ask her what was wrong when he figured it out for himself. To his right and left were floor to ceiling bookcases, covering the entire length of the walls. Ladders adorned each side so one could get to the very topmost shelf. All were empty; all were a deep rich wood that shone with age, love and care.

The set of four windows in front of him opened up onto a backyard that was spacious and ran straight out to a small ridge of trees, and beyond that he knew there were train tracks. As he walked towards the ladder on the right wall he felt the pull to look behind him. As he did his green gaze slowly swept over the windows then found Hermione staring above him at the bookcases. The look on her face was one of utter bliss. He wanted to see that face, the one that showed every emotion, again and again. The way her lips parted, the way her eyes were sparkling, the slight flush to her cheeks, her hands clasped together and under her neck, almost as if she was praying “thank you” to a God.

He knew that at that moment, this house was his. No matter what the price. It was the least he could do for someone who had been his better half for a decade, and if it made her happy it made him happy. And he was transfixed watching this rare moment pass across Hermione's face and body. He backed himself up against the ladder, needing something to support him and he also needed to hold her. He had no idea why, but his body ached for her to be pressed against him.

Clearing his throat she looked over at him and the look in her eyes was one he had never seen. Desire. Not knowing what else to do, he smiled at her and nodded that this was the house.

Hermione ran over and hugged him so hard he fell back further against the ladder. He managed to catch her with one arm, and the ladder behind him with the other arm so they wouldn't fall.

“God, Hermione can you imagine how many books you could fit in here?” Harry laughed, situating himself against the ladder so he felt balanced enough to hold onto her with both hands.

“Millions,” she gasped and Harry let out a low laugh, pulling her closer so he could bend and whisper into her ear.

“Maybe not that many, but your rare books would fit perfectly on that top shelf. That way Crookshanks couldn't shed on them. And, I can just see your tomes on those middle shelves, the ones that are twice as tall as the rest? They'd fit perfectly in there. Of course, I'd have a small corner for my six books on Quidditch and the Hogwarts: A History that you bought me.”

“You can have more than a small corner; it's your house,” Hermione murmured, and moved so she was standing on the bottom rung of the ladder and was now face to face with him. Pulling back to look up at the top shelf, she grabbed the ladder railing on either side of his arms to keep steady. As her eyes met his they locked, and neither one seemed to move or breathe, as they both realized what kind of position they were in.

Hermione didn't want him to move; she didn't want herself to move. His body was radiating a heat that she could feel in her bones, and despite trying to look away, move away, or talk, she was drawn to him. When he started talking, his voice took on a husky quality she was sure she had never heard from him and Hermione could feel herself spinning out of control right there.

Through the ceiling they could hear the slow footsteps of Miss Wallengampit.

“I don't need more than a small corner. The rest is yours, Hermione. Your Muggle and Magical Encyclopedia's can fit in here. All those volumes on Magical Artifacts and Their Powers can be shelved together,” Harry whispered, startled to feel her head fall to his shoulder. His arms tightened around her, bring her effectively closer and through the thin cotton shirt, he could feel her heart beating quickly; quicker than what he thought was normal. His heart picked up and seemed to race along with hers as the thought dawned upon him to keep talking about books, anything to keep her pressed up against him. He reached into the depths of his brain, recalling titles of books she had mentioned or he had seen, maybe even read back in school.

“Your new, first edition copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them could have it's own special spot. God, Hermione with all these shelves you will have to go out and find more books to fill them or the room will look empty,” Harry told her as his hand began rubbing her back, feeling her press closer and her hips now pressed against his in the most intimate manner. “Or, maybe we could find you that book Erratic Movements of the Planets: A Magical Interpretation.”

“Yes,” she whispered and her voice sounded thick, lower than he had ever heard it before, causing him to wonder what she was thinking. He felt the need to keep talking, so he plugged on remembering titles of books that randomly popped into his head.

“Transfiguration Secrets Revealed would be a great addition to your collection. I might actually have to read that one.”

Harry felt one of her hands move to his shoulder and grab it with a strength that he didn't know she had. Tentatively, he stroked his hands down her back, slower and more deliberate than he had ever done before…and he felt her respond as he pressed his palms against the small of her back. Slowly, purposefully she pressed her hips against his, bringing blood to body parts he never thought would be pressed against Hermione of all people.

`Holy shit, this is brilliant,' was all Harry could think through the pounding in his body, feeling every part of her pressed against him. Then, the thought crashed into his head that a combination of him talking about the books, and the fact they were in a library pressed together, had completely turned her on. Based upon the grip she had on his shoulder and the fact her mouth was pressed against the crook of his neck clued him in that she was trying to rein it in, control it. A wicked thought passed through Harry's head and it went un-checked. A primitive part of him wanted to experience Hermione whirling out of control.

“Remember that book I found in Florish and Blotts?” Harry asked, bringing a hand up to her neck, pulling her hair away from it. Lightly he let his fingers rest on the back of her very warm skin, feeling the fast race of her pulse. “Remember the one called Theories of Purebloods and Sex? I might have to buy that and add it to this library, just for conversations sake…it'd definitely be stimulating. Oh, and imagine all of your childhood books, sitting on the lowest shelf for Will to pull out and read at his leisure.”

It wasn't his imagination. Now she was moving against him, causing the ladder to move a bit from side to side as he shifted his balance and tightened his arm around her waist. The thumb on his other hand began making absentminded circles on the base of her neck causing her to arch into him even further.

“Imagine, Hermione,” Harry whispered in her ear, wondering what in the hell was possessing him to play along with this. He hadn't counted on the fact that she'd be rubbing against him and it felt incredibly good. Knowing they could get caught heightened the erotic sensation. He could still hear the footsteps upstairs in a different part of the house now. “We could read in here all day, especially when it rains. I know how you love to read when it rains.”

He heard a small gasp come from his shoulder and his hand tightened on her neck as he felt her grasping the rail with her free hand; she was bearing down onto him, into him, harder and closer than he ever knew was possible. It was like she was melting around his body, and the movements her hips were making against his brought out a similar movement in him.

“We can dust each book, slowly and carefully before putting it on the shelf, by hand,” Harry told her in a husky voice, his lips touching her ear now. “I think it would be a good idea to categorize them too, so you know exactly…,” he felt her push up, hard, against him managing to wrap a leg around his and hooked into the ladder behind him. Her hand was digging into his shoulder as her mouth pressed against his neck, muffling the sighs he knew were desperate to be released. He was beginning to lose his train of thought from their slow movements against each other, the way her hips slid up and down brought out sensations that he never experienced quite this way before. He couldn't get enough of her movement, her touch…then the ladder moved, causing a slight shift in their movement. He vaguely remembered he had been talking, “...exactly where to put each book,” Harry managed to finish. He had never been so turned on in his life…and this was Hermione!

“Your own library, `Mione,” he whispered thickly feeling her hand clutch at his shirt. He had never called her that before in his life. And he had never kissed her at the base of her neck, then up to her ear before. For once, he was doing something right if he gauged the small, quiet pants against his neck. A deep almost inaudible moan escaped him as he pulled her hips towards his.

“Harry,” her voice pleaded, the same exact tone she had when he had touched her bare skin for the first time.

Her hips ground into his and he gasped despite trying to keep some semblance of control.

“You keep this up…,” Harry panted hoarsely in her ear, “and I'll read whatever book you want, aloud, to you!”

“Please,” she hissed, struggling for breath. “Harry…Oh, God!” He felt her shudder against him and he pressed his own mouth against the soft skin of her throat, muffling his groan as the spasms that racked her body flowed into him. His hand moved to her leg, yanking her against him; his hips moved in rolling rhythm with hers forcing him to growl out her name.

Everything ceased to exist as a billion points of light, or maybe they were asterisk marks, raced in front of his eyes and the knot they both felt, unleashed like a whip for a few glorious seconds. He wasn't sure if they were still breathing, or still standing and not floating in the air. Some semblance of reality returned as her fist relaxed on his shirt and her body seemed to go limp. He noticed her ragged breathing creating a warm breeze against his neck and it gave him goosebumps. This was a moment he could never forget and would remember for the rest of his life. Using all his strength he lifted his head from her neck and laid it back against a rung of the ladder.

“Fuck,” Harry breathed, holding her tightly, knowing she would stumble if he let go. He hadn't even kissed her properly and now they experienced an orgasm that should fill a volume of books. “I am definitely getting this house,” he whispered, his voice a bit stronger. He felt Hermione step back and tentatively plant her foot on the ground, taking stock in her balance. Slowly she brought the other foot down, at the same time lifting her head from his shoulder. She glanced up at him then stared at an area on his chest, not able to meet his eyes.

“I…I'm sorry,” she managed to struggle out, horrified.

“What?” Harry managed to bring his head forward, his hands still touching her waist, not wanting her to break contact. “Hermione, don't.”

“I have no idea…whatever magical force you were radiating and your voice…it…us…dammit…I can't even look at you,” she whispered, running a hand through her hair, still looking away from his face.

“I don't know why I'm emanating any…force…but it took two of us, so if anyone should be apologizing, I…,” Harry began while flicking his wrist, casting a cleansing charm, on both of them. Hermione looked up surprised at his use of wandless and silent magic. She almost lunged herself at him again, not knowing he could do that, but this time she pulled up all the willpower she had. Whatever attraction he was emanating was pulling at her body, her mind, her heart and it was all she could do to not collapse into his arms again.

“Don't apologize.” She met his eyes this time, her face flushed, her lips parted as she regulated her breathing.

“I won't if you won't,” Harry said baldly and she nodded mutely, taking a step back as they heard a shoe hit the wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs.

“Miss Wallengampit?” Harry called, standing up and gently moving Hermione to the side, squeezing her elbow in a silent gesture of reassurance. He met the agent in the hall to give Hermione a few moments to gather herself. “I'll take it.”

“You…you haven't seen upstairs,” she gaped at him, her brown eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh, well, I'll go take a look then, but I don't think that will change my mind at all,” Harry said hoping he sounded sure of himself. He brushed by her and took the stairs two at a time. Three bedrooms, a full bath at the top of the stairs and in one of the bedrooms. A door to the attic. Perfect.

“When can I sign the papers?” Harry called down over the railing to the foyer. He heard two sets of footsteps approaching and Hermione came into view first. She turned and looked up at him and their eyes met for a moment before she glanced at a point below him.

“You sure, Harry?” There had to be more in those three words than Miss Wallengampit heard. The fact that she was biting her lip and couldn't look straight at him clued him into that fact. She was still a bit embarrassed by what happened and he got the feeling that their relationship was moving in a direction he never stopped to think existed.

`Ah, sensible Hermione is back,' Harry thought not being able to suppress the grin that was the result of happiness and his moment with Hermione. He gripped the railing with all his strength, anchoring him, forcing him to not run down, scoop her up and snog her senseless. A taste of what he could do to her, and she to him, had opened a whole new world of feelings for him.

“Quite, I assure you.”

-----

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror above her bathroom sink. Just three hours ago she had done something she never dreamed she'd do. Partially, she blamed it on this energy, force, attraction, magnetism…whatever it was that Harry was radiating. The way his voice lowered an octave as he held her and talked about books had touched her in a way she never thought possible. Then, when she felt him starting to respond to her movements (she still thought someone must've cast an imperious curse on her) she had lost all sense of herself and given into her feelings. Something she didn't usually do, and had never done with Harry.

Admittedly, it was the most amorous she had been since Ron was alive and the current of energy Harry was seeping was almost like an aphrodisiac. According to the research she had done, it was a combination of being similar to that and a signal that emotionally and physically he was in control. Hermione had actually gone through a few rare books she owned and found that only the person for which it was intended would pick up on the energy vibe. He didn't even feel like he was emanating anything so how could she tell him all this? Though, Merlin knew that normally she never let a hug go past a hug, with Harry, and what had happened in what was now Harry's house went way past a hug.

After he told Miss Wallengampit that he wanted the house, he had signed some papers and had to make his way to Gringotts Bank to get the Galleons needed. Hermione had begged off, and a quick look at his bright green eyes told her he understood her need to go home and digest what just happened.

And that brought her to eight o'clock in the evening. Sighing, she ran a brush through her hair and quickly pulled it back into a clip, ready to just sit and try to sort through this year's paperwork. School was done at the end of the following week and after that she was taking a vacation with her parents to America. She was genuinely excited that she could go visit the museums in the country's capitol and then experience The Library of Congress. Maybe what she needed was a week away from Harry; to reassess how deep her friendship was with him. Obviously, to her anyway (based upon the information she had read) he seemed to have developed more than a friendly interest in her over the past week or so. And, the way her heart was racing now and the quick thought that she'd miss him the week she was gone solidified the truth that indeed, something more than friendship was growing in her heart too.

Walking out of the bathroom she ran right into Harry who apparated in her hall at the exact moment she walked out of her bathroom.

Jumping back and stifling a squeak, Hermione grabbed the wall, taking a moment to understand who was standing in her hall.

“I'm sorry. I was aiming for the kitchen and was a bit off…you okay?”

Hermione nodded, leaning against the wall and hugging her arms to her chest trying to sum up the courage to look at him.

“Everything alright?” she asked slowly, pushing herself away from the wall and heading towards her kitchen.

“I was just bringing you a key,” Harry explained stopping in the doorway to her kitchen.

“Congratulations,” Hermione said softly, turning around and seeing him holding out a key. “You deserve that house.”

“Yeah, well…it'll be strange leaving Grimmauld. I just sent an owl to Bill and Fleur about possibly living in the house. Neville and Luna wanted to talk to you about your flat, they can come here or you can come over…,” Harry trailed off, not quite sure what Hermione wanted at this moment.

“That's very kind of you, Harry.” Hermione reached out and took the key from him, inspecting the code written on the side of the silver bar. It was something they could connect to their wands; only hers and Harry's would open up the door once the numbers were “programmed”.

“I made plans to move my things in tomorrow and told the movers I'd check with you about moving yours…if you still want to?” Harry asked quietly. He had his hands in his pockets and looked a bit unsure of himself.

“I do and tomorrow afternoon should be fine. I need to box up personal papers and things,” Hermione answered just as quietly, aware of the strange tension between them. She truly wondered if she had messed up the best friendship she had ever experienced, all because she gave into her urges and Harry had to go emanating magic all over the place. Rubbing the key between her fingers she finally raised her eyes to his and found him quietly watching her, lounging against the wall. For a moment she took all of him in. How much taller he was than their sixth year, how he added muscle and grew into his lean frame over the past few years. His hair was till a tousled mess, but he kept it cut a bit shorter so it wasn't as bad to take care of anymore.

Taking a deep breath she started apologizing again for her actions.

“Hermione…Hermione!” Harry interrupted her holding out a hand for her to stop. “Stop, please?”

Hermione pressed her lips together and nodded watching him walk towards her. She felt that pull from him, but it didn't seem as strong as when they were in the library so she stood her ground, one hand on the back of the chair anchoring her to the floor.

“I think that whatever energy I'm radiating didn't help the situation any, but I'd like to believe that I could've also stopped and walked away if I wanted to,” he began softly, still keeping his eyes connected with hers.

“I don't know if I gave you much choice in--,” Hermione started arguing but fell silent as Harry covered her hand with his.

“There was a choice and I chose not to stop it.” He shifted his weight and became quiet as he tried to organize his thoughts. Hermione watched him in amazement as he seemed to gather his wits about him, then physically draw himself up to his full six feet. “There really wasn't one moment where I was thinking it was wrong, or I didn't want to, or that I felt guilty. It was quite the opposite actually.” He finished the last few words in a rush, anxious to get his feelings out there and now he searched her face for an answer. She just stared at him, her mouth opening then closing again.

“I…wow…I wasn't expecting to hear that,” she finally admitted shyly. She felt as if she was standing on a corner with Harry and they were about to make a major turn instead of staying on the straight and narrow path of their friendship.

“Well, I wasn't expecting to feel this way…about you, but your friendship is the most important thing in my life and I would NEVER jeopardize that,” Harry's forcefulness took her by surprise again, but he continued. “So, I'm not sure where to go from here, Hermione. What do you want?”

`Indeed, what do I want?' Hermione asked herself searching his face for a clue as to what he wanted. But, he was able to keep a neutral look everywhere but his eyes. They were a deeper green than she had ever seen them before and the slight pulses of an electrical current she could still feel, along with the still tingling sensation she had throughout her whole body the last three hours helped her chose her next few words.

“I want…you…us…maybe for there to be an us,” Hermione whispered shocked to hear herself say “you” when she was thinking plural. She had never felt such a deep desire for anyone before, to have and hold them and protect them to the point where she would drop anything just to be with someone...Harry. And now, she was giving up her private flat and independence to move in with him. She felt in her bones, in her heart and even in her mind she was making the right choice, and she hoped he would agree.

Harry took another step closer, now squeezing her hand gently. “I'd like to think there was always an “us”, just never at the…level we're talking about now,” he whispered, feeling something akin to a string pulling him towards her. Pausing for a moment he realized that what he was feeling must be what he was radiating. She began talking as he was taking stock in himself.

“We just need to do this slowly and honestly, Harry. If something doesn't feel right or off, we need to talk about it before we ruin what we have now,” Hermione told him watching a spot on his neck where she could see his pulse beating. She could feel that he was a nervous and just as scared as she was to be talking about taking this next step, and then whatever pull she had felt seemed to recoil back into him and a slightly surprised look graced his face.

“Where did…what did you just do?” she gasped her eyes running over his body. He hadn't moved at all, but yet that pull was gone for the moment.

“I finally felt that…energy you were talking about and concentrated on bringing it in. I…I didn't want anything to sway your thoughts,” Harry whispered his eyes boring into hers.

“I actually researched that, you know,” Hermione gave him a small smile and he returned it.

“I figured you would…d'you mind telling me about what it is?”

Hermione then told him, the short version, of the shield he would put up and how she figured it was around him when he was around her. She explained how it was something only she could feel, explaining how the energy was an extension of his feelings and thoughts. She said once he realized how powerful those feelings were, he could rein them in and control them, just like he now figured out how to do.

“So…,” Hermione murmured. “What should we do now?” Her eyes flicked down to his hand, as his fingers tightened around her palm then back up at him. Harry paused for a moment, gently pulling her towards him.

“I think we need to start at the beginning,” he whispered. Very gently he touched her face, cupping her cheek, feeling her mimic his gesture just like the time she had her nightmare.

And without pause he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, lightly at first taking in the feel of Hermione's soft lips opening under his. Suddenly, his hands slid to her arms pulling her closer, relishing in the fact that her bare arms slid around his neck, feeling one of her hands touch the back of his head pressing his lips harder to hers. The thrum of emotions poured over him and as he felt her hands move and grip his shoulders, her thumbs rubbing in time to the feather light touches of their tongues.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, their kisses becoming more urgent, their hands beginning the journey over previously uncharted territories, until a soft double pop in her living room shocked Harry back to reality. Lifting his head, he recognized the sound of Luna and Neville, then wondered briefly how Hermione became pressed against the counter five feet away from where they started out. Stepping back a bit when he heard Luna's voice calling out, his gaze met Hermione's, unspoken thoughts passing between them as their chests heaved in oxygen, forcing their brains to start thinking again.

Jerking his thumb back over his shoulder towards the bathroom, he saw her give a small nod. Quickly, he crossed the kitchen and ducked into the bathroom, hearing Hermione greet their guests, saying, “Harry'll be out in a minute”.

Grabbing the sink, he stared at himself trying to catch his breath. Never had he felt such a flood of emotion, warmth, such a loss of time. He had glanced at the clock in her kitchen and noticed a good ten minutes had passed. In that amount of time, he had her against the counter, her hands under his shirt and one of his on the buttons of her blouse…so much for going slow. He could still feel her light touch on the small of his back. He was going to have to work on controlling himself around her. It didn't take him long to find out that he loved the feeling that charged between them when he was kissing her; he was sure if Luna and Neville hadn't stopped by he would not have stopped at the buttons on her shirt.

Using the toilet helped relieve some of his emotional and physical stress; he took his time washing his hands in cold water, feeling the shock of it bring his arousal down a few notches. Taking a few deep breaths he pushed open the door and found his friends in the living room, coordinating the moves to house and flat. Hermione was showing Neville where to sign on the contract Miss Wallengampit had owled over. Without looking up Neville greeted Harry in his typical style.

“Hey, Harry, what's up?”

Harry bit back a laugh as Hermione met his eyes briefly then looked away, biting her lower lip to keep the smile at bay.

“You have no idea Neville,” Harry mumbled and Luna turned around, raising a blond eyebrow at him. Harry just smiled at her and walked over to an owl that appeared at Hermione's window.

It was a note from Bill, expressing deep gratitude and thanks for offering them Grimmauld. He and Fleur decided to take Harry up on his offer; it also said that Charlie would be joining them for a few weeks on vacation from his demanding job dealing with dragons in Romania. Harry smiled to himself, as he found a quill and scrawled a note back to Bill.

He finally felt as if his life was falling into place…the first big pieces of the puzzle being his new home and the fact that Hermione and him seemed to be starting off on the next “great adventure”…wherever that was; regardless he was estatic she was taking the journey with him.

-----

“So, he took that house that we looked at?” Ron asked sitting in the courtyard at Hogwarts next to his sister.

“Yep, I was so excited that we happened to be in the same place at the same time, I managed to create a breeze which actually carried the paper down to the For Sale sign.”

“Cool, Ginny. I wonder why you feel so strongly about it though?” Ron asked, watching students study hard under the trees and some first years running around playing tag.

“I'm not sure…Draco said he can probably find out who owned it after Phineas Nigellus did. His mother has an updated family tree or something at her house. He just needs to see if it's out in the open so he can take a look at it. That's where he is now.”

“Well,” Ron said watching Ginny carefully, “That's nice of him to help you…us…out like that.”

“Yeah,” Ginny slid her glance across the lawn, where she was watching people study, over to Ron. “What?”

“Nothing. I wonder if his emotions will ever even out?”

“NO idea…he's a Malfoy. Sometimes it seems rules don't apply to them. Or, he'd like to think so…,” Ginny began then stopped, thinking of the kiss he gave her. She had meant to ask Nearly Headless Nick about feeling an actual sensation she had felt.

“Why do you say that? We're all on the same field here, being Light,” Ron told her, but Ginny shook her head. She told him about Draco kissing her again and what she felt.

“Fuck, Ginny…come on. Why Malfoy?” Ron asked slightly irritated. “Why him and why does it have to be you that has to feel something?” He paused for a moment, seeing her eyes widen at the unusual display of anger. “I'm sorry…it's just Malfoy…he irks me.”

“Its okay; and, I have no idea why it's him. But, don't get mad at me; I didn't plan him to kiss me or plan on feeling something! Come on, let's go find Nick and see if he can shed some light on the subject.” Ginny stood up, grabbing Ron's arm and pulling at him to get stand.

“Nice pun…shedding light,” Ron smiled at her, his irritation now under control. “Good idea, let's go ask Nick. I wouldn't put it past Malfoy to change the rules around here.”

“Me neither,” Ginny agreed wondering indeed if Draco had any idea what he was making her feel. And after the second kiss, she swore she felt something more than warmth…some vague memory of actually enjoying the kiss.

“But, rules were meant to be broken,” Ginny said quietly, knowing Ron heard her.

“For sure. Harry and I, and sometimes Hermione, did that all the time. You remember when she made that Polyjuice Potion…,” Ron began talking as Ginny tuned him out. She needed to talk to Nick, sooner rather than later.

-->

9. Warming Up

Warming Up

Saturday morning arrived and by noon, all of Harry’s personal items and a few pieces of furniture had been moved into his new house at seventy-three-and-a-half Hogsmeade Lane. Luna and Neville helped him push furniture around trying to figure out where to put his large sofa, while Neville tried to figure out how to get a signal to the TV, which occupied most of his time. Hermione was still working with the movers, packing up items and said she would apparate over a bit before they delivered her furniture, all shrunk down, but in one huge, heavy box.

“Harry, want to come up and see if your bedroom is to your liking?” Luna called from the stairway. Harry draped the towel over the sink he was using to wipe down the counter, and sprinted up the stairs.

“Luna, you didn’t have to move stuff around in my room,” Harry told her as he walked to the end of the hall and opened the door.

“I just levitated a few things…you need to achieve harmony with your environment and having your bed over here, across from the window, will help bring you peace.” Luna’s arm swept through the bedroom and Harry’s eyes followed the arc.

“I see. And is there a reason my dresser is under the window instead of to the side?” Harry asked, grinning at Luna; he knew she had an answer.

“That way when you get up to grab your clothes in the morning, you can look out the back of the house to the peaceful rolling lawn and feel relaxed. Who wants to look at a white wall anyway? Hence, the reason they are a now a sage green color. I also changed the color of your bed covers, just a bit; they now have some gold in it. That’ll help you in the romance department,” Luna spouted, finally stopping for a breath of air.

Harry stared at her, taking in the serious note in her blue eyes, then looked around at his room. He struggled not to break into an amused grin seeing how serious she seemed.

“Luna…you truly amaze me sometimes,” Harry complimented her, patting her shoulder a bit awkwardly.

“Well, the gold…I figure you and Hermione might need some support.”

“What? Me and Hermione?” Harry was visibly surprised Luna brought that up now of all places.

“Yes, Harry,” Luna sighed as if they had this conversation a million times already, “It’s in the stars; you two were meant to be together. Didn’t you pay attention in Astronomy?”

“Sometimes,” Harry answered, glancing at the picture of him and Ron in their Quidditch robes on the top of his dresser.

“Well, it’s out there. You and Ginny made the first step together into the relationship world, and now Hermione is your landing,” Luna told him, watching him look at the picture on his dresser.

Harry thought about her words for a minute, thinking about what they could mean to him.

“So, you’re saying, even if Ginny lived, she and I wouldn’t have lived happily ever after?”

Luna reached out and touched the frame of the picture as Harry watched. She seemed to be struggling with emotions he hadn’t seen in her before.

“Not with each other, no. If you combine everything that I saw in the stars, the charts and my own…sights…it was supposed to be you and Hermione, Neville and Ginny, me and Ron. Two thirds of that will never happen, so I need to see the other third happen.”

Harry stared at her, his mouth agape in surprise, trying to process what she just said. She simply stared down at the picture of the two sixth years in their Quidditch robes, playfully jostling each other out of the picture.

“Luna?” he touched her shoulder softly and she turned towards him, her hands gripping the frame tightly.

“I love Neville, I really do. I loved him before I even knew I was going to be paired with Ron. I found that out looking at charts a few days before he and Ginny died. So, maybe all that was meant to happen. If those Death Eaters never came and took our friends lives, then what I said earlier was to be the outcome. Nothing is written in stone, but I truly think you and Hermione are the best pair this world could ever have.”

“Yeah? I never ever thought that way until a week ago you know,” Harry told her truthfully, watching Luna now place the picture back on the dresser. She had been looking at it a bit wistfully as she spouted off her theories.

“I know,” Luna smiled her dreamy smile towards him, but was stopped from saying anything else as Neville yelled that Hermione was in the house.

Harry couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he walked out his door, Luna at his heels. He peered over the top of the railing down to the foyer. He could hear Hermione directing the movers where to set her furniture, but couldn’t see where she was.

“I’m thinking we should move so they can bring her bedroom up here. We don’t want to be in the way,” Luna told him, moving him along down the stairs.

The next few minutes were a flurry of movements. Hermione smiled and waved at Harry where she was standing in the kitchen. She was busy manually sorting her plates, utensils, and food into piles as the movers hovered around her and then moved upstairs, Hermione leading the way to her bedroom.

Harry had insisted she take the one with the bathroom, so she could have privacy. Of course she refused so they resorted back to the old fashioned Muggle game: rock, paper, scissors. With Luna officiating, she confirmed Harry had won. He made his decision to sleep in the bedroom at the end of the hall, which was right next to the hall bathroom. He didn’t feel the need for privacy and thought that Hermione might like the fact she didn’t have to leave her room to take a bath or shower.

“Harry…I can not figure out your TV…you’re going to have to do it. I’m sorry,” Neville sighed emerging from the hall bathroom.

“Not a problem. If I can’t get a signal, I can’t get a signal, no big deal. Thanks for trying,” Harry thanked him as he made his way through the kitchen and back into the library where boxes of books were waiting to be sorted and placed on the shelves.

“Need help with these?” Neville asked opening a box and removing some Quidditch manuals.

“No…I’ve got it. Why don’t you and Luna go get your things ready to move? You’ve helped tremendously,” Harry told him, standing back and looking up at the shelves trying to figure out if anything needed to be rearranged or if shelves needed to be removed.

“You sure?”

“Yes…take Luna and go to your new flat. We can catch up later; if not this week then after school is out.” Harry bid Neville good bye and began working on unloading the boxes.

He lost track of time opening box after box and placing Hermione’s piles in orderly stacks on the floor. He levitated his books to a middle shelf and found that all the books he owned, not counting the ones in his school bag or in his classroom, took up just half a shelf across.

Crookshanks came to investigate, sniffing around the boxes and books. When Harry crossed the room to open the window, and lifted the screen to get rid of the stuffiness, Crookshanks leapt through and took off across the back yard. He watched the tail end of the cat disappear under a bush and he couldn’t help smiling at how roomy the backyard was for flying. He hadn’t flown for fun in ages and he was itching to get on his broom and just take off leaving all the past year, except for yesterday, behind him.

Drawing his head back out of the window, he took a step back and felt a hand touch his back.

“What’re you looking at?” Hermione asked softly, letting her hand drop as he turned around.

“The yard; thinking about flying and such. I let Crookshanks out,” Harry told her letting his eyes travel along the bookcases, until they rested on Hermione.

She was standing in front of him, hands in her back pockets looking out the window. He wasn’t sure what to do with her now that they finally decided to take their new level of relationship slowly; he wasn’t certain what the next move was. He really just wanted to hold her and (he finally admitted to himself) kiss her, then maybe follow through on dusting off the books and putting them away. Briefly, he wondered if she was going to hold him to his “in the heat of the moment” comment about reading to her. Nothing interrupted his train of thought and he realized for the first time, since arriving at his house bright and early that morning that it was quiet; they were alone. His heart skipped a beat when she looked up at him and smiled.

“I’m glad you finally found yourself a home, Harry,” she said quietly reaching for his hand and holding it with both of hers.

“Me too,” he answered, covering her hands with his own. “Whatever you want to do in here decoration wise is fine. I owe you so much for being-,” he began but was silenced when her finger settled on his mouth.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“My life pretty much, Hermione,” Harry mumbled gently removing her finger and his hand from hers. He hesitantly placed his hands on her hips and drew her closer, sighing as she hugged him, nestling her head under his chin.

“I don’t think so, Harry. Ron and I were…are…your friends. Friends watch out for each other; we’ve had this discussion before,” she answered rubbing her hands up and down his back, letting her short nails scratch his back ever so lightly. No one ever scratched his back before and next to kissing Hermione and maybe other things he had yet to experience with her, this was the next best feeling.

“I know but I still feel that way and after all that we’ve been through, I owe you everything,” Harry whispered kissing the top of her head.

“No you don’t…well, maybe more of that shoulder rub you’re doing,” Hermione sighed and Harry moved his hands slower across her shoulders, not even realizing he had been doing it.

What started out as a nice, slow rub, ended up with Harry cupping her face and slowly kissing her. This time, he kept himself in check so he could enjoy how her hands ran up his arms and over his shoulders. She in turn, pressed herself closer to him, and Harry noticed the soft curves under his hands and against his him. Staying in control didn’t help Harry however, knowing what the outcome of what being close to Hermione would be. The way she kissed him back, unhurried and almost leisurely, made him wonder how long he’d be able to stand here clasping her hips so she wouldn’t move away.

Hermione knew as soon as his lips touched hers that this was going to last awhile. Something about him, the library, and the way his lingering kisses all mixed together made him the only thing on her mind at the moment. Forget all the boxes that were still packed; forget her unmade bed upstairs…she just wanted Harry.

That thought frightened and excited her at the same time. After all these years, she felt a connection with Harry she never had with anyone else and her body was telling her “more”. Pulling him backwards, she fell back against her sofa, which they had decided looked better in the library, bringing him down with her.

After some awkward movements of arms and legs, he finally settled himself down between her thighs. She felt his kisses become more urgent, his tongue teasing hers, running along her teeth, finally her lips then down her neck to where she remembered his mouth being yesterday. Her hands tangled in his hair as blood pounded throughout her body, loving the heaviness of him; the unfamiliar hardness of him slowly removing all sense and control from her mind and body.

Pressing his lips to the nape of her neck, she arched against him helpless to his soft kisses. One arm supported his weight and that hand was snaked under her neck, gently rubbing his fingers in small circles, sending shivers down her spine. The other one was free and roaming around her thigh causing her to squirm against him, desperately seeking completion to what he started. The fire that burned deep in the pit of her stomach, and the pulse she felt throughout her body, confirmed her heavy feelings for him. This whole new side of Harry, one she had never known was fascinating and scorching all at the same time. Quiet, moody, powerful and endearing Harry had a side she had never seen; Ginny had mentioned this part to her but her words didn’t do Harry justice. To fully experience it was exhilarating.

Her hands tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers; her blouse was now unbuttoned and she felt a bit embarrassed as he sat up and whipped off his shirt then stared down at her. His glasses had came off with his shirt, revealing dark, jade green eyes and she could see him look at her chest, covered only in a light pink shirt that was open now down the middle, then come up to her eyes. Nothing was said, only the sounds of their breathing and the creaking of the sofa as he lowered himself towards her, brushing her blouse to the side.

Hermione gasped, feeling his warm, smooth skin against hers. As his lips claimed hers she felt her control slipping even further as he pushed into her and she answered his movement, sighing against his lips. She wanted to feel his hands on her bare skin so she hoped her hands traveling the valley of his back then the ridges of his shoulders would give him the hint to move his hand from her hip. His back was firm with muscles she never knew he had and slowly, she felt his hand slid up her ribs, then up further, his thumb tracing the curve of her breast and coming to rest on her neck.

“Hermione,” he whispered against her ear, where he had just kissed her.

“Hmmm?” she wrapped her fingers through his hair, then relaxed them feeling him move so he could see her. For a moment he let his gaze run over her face until she was forced to ask him, “What?”

“This is…you’re sure this is what you want? I mean…us doing this. You’re the most important thing in my life and-,” he began but was silenced this time by Hermione’s finger over his mouth once again.

“Harry, I’m sure. I…we know each other on every other level imaginable and I think once we realize that our friendship will never falter and we move on, we will realize that this is right.”

“That’s what I’m scared of…it suddenly hit me that this feels, sounds and looks,” his thumb caressed her cheek softly as he smiled tenderly at her, “so right. It took a long time to realize that…well, part of that… with Ginny, and now all of a sudden we go from comforting each other as friends to the point where I can barely keep my hands and mind off you.”

Involuntarily, a happy smile curved over Hermione’s lips as she heard his last words. She wondered what he meant by only part of what he said applied to Ginny, but that was quickly pushed back in her mind for another day; another conversation. His words were by far the sweetest thing she had ever heard him say and her throat closed up realizing how hard he worked to get his thoughts out and in the open for her to hear.

“We’ve done everything else Harry,” Hermione managed to choke out, her hands resting on either side of his neck.

“And more…defeating villains, riding Hippogriffs…I know. But, I still feel that once we cross that line that separates friends and…lovers…our friendship will never be the same.” Harry watched his hand run through her hair, oblivious to the goose bumps that raised up on her arms from the feel of his fingers skimming over her scalp. “That sex thing will be in the way, just like that movie.” He looked sheepish as he let his eyes rest at a point above her head. “That was a bold statement; it just kind of came out.”

“That’s okay Harry. I think we are on the same wavelength…sex wise,” Hermione said quietly smiling as his head bowed down and kissed her forehead, not responding aloud. But, she could tell he was happy they were both thinking that at some point, they would both like to go further.

Hermione watched him thoughtfully, feeling him shift slightly, settling deeper into her. She draped a leg over his, planting her foot between his knees and he looked up from his hand, still in her hair, down to her as she moved her stockinged foot between his knees.

“Gradually we’ll get there, Harry, that’s all I can say. Sex isn’t something I take very lightly you know. I’m sure Ron complained about how long THAT took---but with you I want it to take us past that plain of just friends and into something deeper. I’m not sure if that ever happened with Ron, so I’m not sure if what I want is even out there. Does that make any sense?” Hermione trailed her fingers down his spine, feeling the flicker of his muscles under her fingertips. “And,” she continued before he could answer with much more than a nod, “you’re so important to me, so much a part of me that I would do anything for you-,” Hermione felt his finger come to her lips this time and she smiled at his gesture.

“I know and you have-,” he began but Hermione shook her head so vehemently his eyebrows shot up. Now he pushed himself up on both forearms and looked down at her, still not moving off of her, quite content with his comfortable position at the moment.

“There’s still so much more…,” she whispered then fell silent, afraid of revealing her deepest thoughts that had been taking root and growing over the past few weeks.

She finally pinpointed the date her thoughts of Harry slowly started turning from being friends to a curious flutter in her stomach whenever she saw him. It was Mother’s Day. Ever since he had hugged her mother and quickly, awkwardly, kissed her on the cheek almost six weeks ago, these thoughts of hers had been growing slowly, almost unknowingly to her. And now they seemed to blossom in front of her eyes, in the form of a dark haired, green eyed man.

“What? What else could you possibly give me? Don’t say your life either because I won’t allow that to happen.” His voice took on a rough edge and she knew him well enough to not take that path. He took a deep breath and let it out his nose, bent over and kissed her forehead then rested his cheek on it. “What else is there, Hermione? I believe it’s MY turn to give you whatever you want, as repayment for what you’ve done for me…and Ron.”

“No, you don’t need to give me anything but…yourself. I—I can’t say now, what more I have. But I will, I just need to figure out how to word it,” Hermione breathed, smelling the same shampoo she always smelled whenever she hugged him. Her thoughts were whirring in different circles, not in their usual organized pattern.

Part of her thoughts left her feeling unnerved for actually not having the words to describe what she wanted to give him. The other part was aching for him to touch and kiss her again, surprising her with the forcefulness of her own wants.

Tentatively, she kissed his neck, arching up to move her lips from his collar bone to the hollow under his ear. She heard him exhale slowly and took to his sigh to mean that he liked that, so, experimentally, she flicked her tongue as her lips trailed a line of kisses around his jaw towards his mouth. Her heart was beating painfully, the thought heavy in her head that this was Harry she was kissing; and managing to turn on quite successfully, if the way his hands were cupping her head and his breath was fast against her cheek was any indication.

Her mouth finally met his and she felt him kiss her hard, fast, and wanting. Her hands gripped his back tightly as his hand finally brushed over her chest testing that it was okay for him to touch her in a place he’d never seen. His touch was perfect, and she pushed up into him, a small moan escaping her, telling him he could do more, move more and he did. The thin material of his shorts left little to her imagination. The gentle rocking of his hips against her spurred her towards the edge so quickly she couldn’t do much more than wrap her arms around him, sliding her mouth to his cheek, taking in big gulps of air. His hand trailed quickly down her side, over her hip and cupped her bottom, holding her still as he pushed against her. His fingers were so close to touching her right where he was moving against her, that she shifted and moved erratically against him trying to get more of him into her. She wanted him…all of him and he sensed the change in her movements as they become insistent. Her hands moved, grasping his lower back and pulling him towards her, pushing up her hips to press harder against him. His fingers grasped the inside of her thigh, harder increasing the pressure throughout Hermione’s body.

His name fell off her lips as if trying to release the pressure building up, wanting to explode yet wanting it to last at the same time. They moved harder and faster they moved against each other; his breaths were coming unevenly against her ear and she squeezed him hard, loving the intimate noises he was making because of her…because of them.

Harry recognized the small pants against his neck, and felt truly amazed that he could bring her to the brink so easily, so wonderfully he lost himself in their movements, feeling closer to her than he ever had before. Her arms enfolded him against her, tight as ever, holding on to him as if she was afraid she’d fall.

Hermione possibly needing him, the way she was sharing this side of herself with him was the undoing for him; he buried his face in her neck hearing her husky but quiet cries echo off the wall; feeling her arch and freeze against him bringing his movements to a sudden, satisfying release. He groaned and thought he said something, though he had no idea what. Her hips rocked against his gently, slowly as if trying to sustain the sensation then slowly stopped as her arms went slack and rested lightly on his sides. For a few glorious moments they rested and caught their breath, hands stroking his hips; his fingers stroking her shoulders.

“You know,” Hermione began softly, almost wistfully, her voice sounding miles away, “that you are the only person who has ever called me ‘Mione?”

“I called you that just now?” Harry asked not remembering what he said, or how loudly, or if he said anything at all.

“Yes, you did.” She kissed his jaw, feeling the rough unshaved Harry against her lips and loving it.

“I’m sorry-,” Harry began not sure if she was trying to tell him not too say her name like that. It truly had been unconscious on his part.

“No…I kind of like it…something that’s…ours,” she whispered, watching him raise his head to peer down at her.

“Ours…,” he repeated as a slow, almost mischievous smile came over his flushed face. He could see that Hermione recognized his smile and she began smiling back, waiting for him to finish his thought. “I would really like to think that ‘Mione is mine, or on the way to being that.”

That comment draped over her like a soft blanket and she lovingly stroked his cheek with her finger tips and could only nod, for fear she’d break into tears if she opened her mouth.

---

“So tell me, what did Nearly Headless Nick finally say?” Ron settled down next to his sister, watching students study diligently for the final exams happening in the next few days. “I take it you finally caught up with him?”

“I did. I asked him, you know, why I feel something when Draco touches me and he said something very interesting…,” Ginny started then fell silent. She was still trying to process everything and wasn’t sure she could tell Ron what was said. “I…you just need to hear for yourself…let’s go find him.” Ginny stood up suddenly and Ron had no choice but to follow her, not used to seeing his sister at a loss for words. After a few inquiries and finding Draco along the way, who decided to see for himself what was going on, they finally found Nick in one of the kitchens, staring longingly at the food being prepared for lunch.

“Nick, can you explain to Ron what you told me earlier today? I…I’m still…,” Ginny just waved her hand in his direction, asking him to tell the story.

“Alright…why don’t we go up to the library? Less distractions,” Nick said and they followed him through the floors to the library and situated themselves on a bench in the back of the hall. Nick looked down at the young group in front of him and began his speech for the second time that day, knowing Ginny needed to hear it again.

“Once in awhile, usually hundreds of years actually, a few people that choose to be Light have another option besides going onto the next ‘great adventure’, or in my case becoming a ghost or in rare instances a Poltergeist like Peeves. This other option is another world, entirely parallel to the real world, almost mirroring it but you are still dead. Not breathing, not able to reproduce like the real world, not needing much sustenance to live, but other than that you look, feel and can interact much like other live people can. I’ve only seen ten people, in my time here, that fit the criteria for being able to cross over to this world, which we call so eloquently,” Nick gave a wry smile as Ron just stared at him and Draco’s eyes flicked back and forth between Nick and Ginny, “Echo.”

“Shouldn’t it be Echo Echo?” Draco drawled, as he interrupted, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall as much as he could.

“Ha ha,” Ron intoned making a motion for Nick to continue.

“Anyway…Echo is what we call it, plain and simple. When Ginny came to me asking why she could feel things that Ron and other Light, ghosts etcetera can’t feel, I realized that she is the eleventh person I have known that has the option of moving onto this world. Apparently, Draco has this option too since together they can feel something. You’d be the twelfth.”

Ron swung his gaze to Ginny, his eyes wide, then slid to Draco who looked calm and collected as if he knew this would happen.

“So, what you’re saying is that she can choose to go to this parallel world and Draco can too just because they can feel each other?”

“Yes, Ron. But it’s not an easy choice. She’d be living there with other people like her; there are hundreds of them from all different points in time. Some are old, some are young. Time is pretty much like it is here, you grow older and when you choose to leave the world there are ways to do that. Nothing we need to get into here, now. But when you do decided to leave, then you become a ghost or go on further. She could work, have a family….” This time Draco interrupted.

“How can she have a family if…she’s dead? Nothing could grow inside her and I’m pretty sure no male would have anything growing inside them either,” he said matter of factly, “if you know what I mean.”

“Good question and there is an answer. Babies that don’t make it, whether they die in the womb, are miscarried, or can’t live for the first few days beyond birth for whatever reason become small points of light. I’m sure you all have seen them, especially Ron and Ginny. That small point of light you sometimes see floating around then winking out is their little soul, making its way to Echo. Sometimes they look like specks in front of your eyes then they are gone. They move onto that world and when there is a couple that is ready to have children, they go to one of the magical doctors there and a charm is cast upon them.”

Ginny took over at this point, her voice growing stronger by the minute.

“There’s a charm enables the mother to get pregnant. Technically speaking, you go through the motions and whatever speck of light happens to be the closest is absorbed into the mother and is able to start a life. They are entirely self-sufficient in the mother for the first month. Then, once you know you are pregnant, you go every week to the doctor to get a nourishment charm cast upon you until the baby is born. This is only needed for the baby to grow and once he or she is born, they are pretty much the same as us. They will continue to grow with the appropriate charms and supplemental nourishment. It’s a whole other world, Ron, one where you can technically live but you aren’t alive. I also found out on Halloween anyone can visit. So, you could come visit or I could leave and visit you or any other friend I wanted to see that wasn’t an Echo. So, we wouldn’t lose contact at all.”

“Bloody hell, Ginny. From what you’re saying it sounds like you want to do this! Are you sure?” He spun around to Draco, not waiting for his sister to answer.

“What about you Draco? Sounds like you can go there too,” Ron asked directly.

Draco shrugged and looked thoughtful for once.

“I have no idea. I just wonder why she and I can do this but he can’t,” he nodded to Nick, “and neither can you. What makes us so special?” Draco asked the question pointedly and felt Ginny shift next to him as she looked at Nick too.

Nick thought for a moment then began slowly, “Something awaits you there that is bigger than us here. It may not be there now, or next year. But something is there. I’m not a seer so I couldn’t tell you what it is. Just that you two were meant to go. It could be anything from finding a new charm to a magical incantation that can be passed on to the live magical world, that will change the way we live. Anything along those lines could be your contribution. You don’t have to go, but the option is there. Once you are ready, you just need to let me know.”

“How do they get to this other world?” Ron asked standing up and staring at Nick, still trying to absorb everything that was said.

“We’ll get to that later. It’s a ritual, painless and all that, but nothing we need to get into now.”

Everyone was silent, processing all the information that was just thrown at them.

“I have to go. I’ll see you all later; we can chat then. Now, I have a meeting with the Headless Society,” Nick bobbed his head and Ron mumbled “good luck” to him and a moment later the three of them were left alone.

“What’re you going to do?” Ron asked Ginny who still seemed a bit shocked. She wasn’t sure if it was from everything she had learned about Echo that day or from the fact that Draco’s arm was touching hers and that one spot was very pleasurably warm.

“I first need to make sure Harry is happy so I can rest assured he’ll make it,” she whispered and turning around she fled towards the Gryffindor Common Room, leaving Ron and Draco staring at each other, wondering what decision would be made.

10. Invisible Magic

Invisible Magic

Harry fidgeted in his hard chair, discreetly casting a cushioning charm and then followed that up with a cooling charm. Moving his wand ever so slightly, under the robe that covered his arms, he pointed it in Hermione's direction and wordlessly cast one in her direction.

He saw her turn towards him and mouth “thanks”, as her hand touched his arm lightly then disappeared back into her lap.

It was hot. And it was the last day of school. The seventh years, teachers and parents had been sitting out in the boiling sun for over an hour and Harry wished that this was one of the smaller seventh year classes. He could only imagine how hot many of the Muggle parents were, since they couldn't cast a cooling charm.

Harry only half listened to Headmistress McGonagall talk about how proud she was to graduate this class and how she hoped they that they would do the best they could in their chosen field. The other half of his brain was trying to remember the last time he had sat down and actually talked with Hermione.

After unpacking all day Saturday and buying some furniture on Sunday, Monday came in like a lion. Exam after exam was given, distraught students, especially seventh years were consoled and calming charms seemed to be cast just about every day.

Harry and Hermione both stayed late at Hogwarts just about every night helping to grade exams or tutoring students who thought they didn't know the needed material. Often, either Harry or Hermione would be home later than ten at night and immediately they'd kiss the other one hello only to say good night five minutes later, proceeding to collapse into their bed. They would sleep soundly, just to get up at six to begin the process all over again. The last time he spent any quality time with Hermione was Sunday morning when he came down to find her cooking breakfast. What started out as a hug, meant to thank her, ended up with them snogging so long, the bacon burnt and had to be thrown away.

Now, at three in the afternoon, Harry was almost free. He had a whole week off until he met with McGonagall to learn about renewing the magical wards around Hogwarts. Hermione would leave for a two week vacation with her parents, that same day. He sensed it deep in his heart just how much he was going to miss her. He tried to question her about what Muggle Books she was going to look up at The Library of Congress and about what she was going to read at the beach. The way she seemed to vaguely answer him gave him the idea that she wasn't really in the mood to talk about her vacation. He chalked that up to maybe her missing him too and, maybe, she didn't want him to think she was going to have more fun without him. He tried explaining to her that he was going to be in training for five days and wouldn't be able to do anything, so it made sense for her to go do something entertaining. Hermione had just nodded, then changed the subject to George dating Lavender Brown. So, he pitched in his two cents on how those two were made for each other and professed the thought that a wedding would be happening in the next year or so.

A sudden roar interrupted him from his thoughts and he began clapping, seeing students rising from their seats. He was genuinely happy that, yet, another group of Hogwarts Students had finished and were ready to move onto the real world.

A half hour later, Harry had made his rounds to a few of his students who wanted their parents to meet him and he was finally inside his cool, stone office gathering up the books he wouldn't need again until the following year.

“Harry?” Professor McGonagall knocked on his door, which was wide open.

“Come on in,” Harry waved her inside and finished locking up his cabinet.

“Did you talk to Christie Bell by chance?”

“I just did on my way into school. I told her the club was all set to begin next year and that I'd sponsor it. All she needs to do is pick a date to start the meetings and get out the information to the students.”

“Wonderful. And, thank you for taking this club under your wing. I'm not sure I could've added another item to my plate.”

“Not a problem, Professor. I'm free two days a week so it gives me a lot of time to play around with it.” Harry snapped his bag shut and held it in both hands, meeting his Headmistresses gaze.

“Well, that's one of the reasons I am here,” she said, hesitantly, perching herself on the edge of the front most table. “I would like to offer you the DADA position full time. All seven class years.”

Harry felt his heart jump as a smile crossed his face. Finally, a full time job! This was something he truly enjoyed doing and now he'd be able to do it himself, with no one to share the responsibility or trying to work around the discrepancies of teaching styles.

“I accept! Thanks Professor!” Harry answered excitedly, holding his bag tightly. He felt like jumping up and running to tell Hermione, but knew, at the moment, that acting like a fourth year wasn't appropriate.

Professor McGonagall smiled and extended her hand. Harry quickly scooted around his desk and shook it firmly.

“And, I offered the same to Hermione, just so you know. Though, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough,” she said slyly then turned around and walked quickly out of his room, her heels tapping an echo that faded away.

`She knows,' Harry thought. He had hoped that he and Hermione could discuss over the summer how they would tell their Headmistress they were an item, but it seemed she knew. It reminded him a bit of Professor Dumbledore knowing things before most people did. Smiling to himself he locked up his desk and made his way down to Hermione's class room.

“Harry!” she launched herself at him as he stepped through her door and he fell back against the wall, hugging her just as tightly. “I got offered full time!”

“That's great! Me too!” Harry laughed holding her a bit longer than usual. Finally, he gently pried her away as he heard footsteps in the hall. “I take it you accepted?”

“Of course!” she slapped him on the arm, turned and grabbed her bag which was lying on the table. “Come on, let's go home. I need to change into something cooler then maybe we can take Molly and Arthur up on dinner at their place. We haven't been there in a long time.”

Harry held the door for her on the way out, feeling slightly nervous about going to The Weasley's for dinner. Would Molly or Arthur, and probably everyone else, be able to see his feelings for Hermione? And, if so, how would they feel about it?

---

“We're never going to get to Molly's if you keep doing this,” Hermione mumbled against Harry's lips, hands intertwined in his dark hair.

“Me? You started it,” Harry said good-naturedly, pulling her closer and giving her one last, heart racing kiss; his fingers curled against the bare skin on her sides as her tongue moved against his, tasting of cherry candy. Hermione sighed and slowly slid her hands down his chest as he forced himself to pull away.

“You finished it so nicely though,” she answered back, feeling him pull his hands out from under the back of her shirt. He gave it a tug and released her, but not before he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Molly's going to know as soon as we walk in there you know,” Hermione told Harry slowly stepping back then tucking in her shirt.

“I know…a bit nervous about that,” he admitted. He ducked into the half bathroom and tried to fix his hair which had Hermione's hands running through it minutes earlier. She followed him in, accioing her brush from her bathroom upstairs.

“Me too,” she admitted back and for a moment their eyes met in the mirror. He watched her brush her hair then set it down on the sink.

“We'll be alright. I think everyone there will be fine with us. God knows they've been after us for the past few months with questions about if we're dating.”

“Tell me about it. Maybe George and Lavender will be the highlight of the conversation,” Harry told her, taking her hand and leading them outside where they would apparate to The Burrow.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling reassuringly. She nodded and squeezed his hand and a moment later they left that `squeezed through a tube feeling' behind them and stared up at the Weasley House in front of them.

“Harry, Hermione, great to see you!” a booming voice came from the side of the house. There, broomstick in hand, stood Charlie Weasley, the stockiest of the clan and definitely the most outdoorsy of them all, since he dealt with dragons all day. His longish red hair was tousling around in the breeze and there were a few more wrinkles around his eyes than when Harry saw him last. Quickly, Hermione dropped Harry's hand as they walked forward to greet Charlie.

“Charlie…I heard you were coming into town,” Harry said warmly, shaking his hand. Hermione received a bone crushing hug and a few spins in the air. They hadn't seen him since the funeral last year, but Harry didn't feel any uneasiness being with the second-eldest Weasley.

“The lot of us are going to strike up a game of Quidditch. I haven't played in ages…why don't you get your broom?” Charlie asked them as the three of them entered into Molly's kitchen.

“Sounds great. Let me go say hello to everyone first,” Harry answered excitedly. He had never seen Charlie play, and with both of them being first rate seekers it would be interesting to see how they faired against each other.

He could hear Fred, George talking to Bill in the living room. Hermione immediately went up to Molly and asked if she could help with the cutting of the vegetables but was told to go relax.

“Harry my dear, how are you?” Molly lifted her cheek for kiss and Harry granted her one.

“I'm doing great, thanks.”

“What're your plans for the summer? I think Bill said something about helping out McGonagall?” She looked at Hermione who was standing very close to Harry. Then her eyes flicked to Harry and a small smile tugged the corners of her mouth.

“He's going to be renewing the wards around Hogwarts,” Hermione answered quickly for him as Harry snuck a biscuit and shoved it into his mouth. He pretended to be hurt as Molly swiped his hand.

“That's pretty powerful magic there, my boy,” Arthur said from behind Harry, peering over his shoulder at Molly's dinner. Hermione swore she saw Molly wink at her before she turned back to her steak and kidney pie.

Hermione glanced up at Harry and she could see the same thoughts were going through his head; Molly knew something more than friendship was happening, but thankfully she wasn't advertising it at the moment.

“I've a week of learning, reading and training, week after next. Should only take about three weeks to do the whole school…that's what I am told anyway,” Harry explained, guiding Hermione to the side of the kitchen as Charlie came up and tried to steal a biscuit.

“Have you seen the get-up you have to wear for renewing those wards?” Arthur asked leaning back against the counter. Harry shook his head as Arthur laughed. “Well, you never know what spells might bounce back and hit you, so you'll be wearing something short of Muggle armor. From the sunglasses to the shoes. Though, I hear the uniform is very fancible, but definitely expensive and powerful. It's designed to deflect 99% of the spells used on wards and the spells used by people to try and break through them.”

“Wonderful,” Harry mumbled. “I can't wait to see what Professor McGonagall dresses me up as then. Good thing you'll be on vacation,” Harry nudged Hermione. She just smiled, a bit to evily he thought.

“Who knows? Maybe I'll come home early and take pictures so we can all partake in how you get gussied up,” Hermione nudged him back, then moved so Bill could try and sneak a hand in towards a biscuit.

“Stop it all of you. Go play or something,” Molly scolded and Harry took that moment to whisper to Hermione he was going to apparate back to his house for his Quidditch broom.

Harry popped onto the front lawn of his house, unlocked his door and sprinted down the stairs to the basement, realizing it was only the second time he had been down there. He maneuvered his way through empty boxes, a few miscellaneous pieces of furniture and Hedwig's old cage when he saw his broom and the trunk with the balls in the corner furthest from the stairs. As he went to grab his broom, his hand skimmed along the stone wall and a jolt of magic surged up his arm, literally making him throw the broom on the ground.

“What the hell?” Harry gasped rubbing his arm where it was tingling near his elbow. He let his eyes travel along the floor and up to the ceiling but didn't see anything except the undulations of the stone wall. Hesitantly, he reached out and slowly moved one finger in towards the wall. As he got closer, he could actually feel the hum of magic and paused with his finger a few hair breadths away from the stone He concentrated on the feeling, trying to locate any information he had about what the spell or charm was that could be cast on this part of the wall.

Nothing. Nothing about the feeling, texture or sensation of the magic was familiar to him. He had the house swept for curses and hexes and it had come away clean, but this one escaped the estate agent's attention. He needed Bill, who specialized in curses, and without thinking, shot is patronus through the wall to his right. As he waited, he moved down the wall taking note to where the magic energy seemed to stop.

“Harry?” a voice came from the floor above him and the footsteps moved towards the basement door.

“Down here,” Harry yelled and a moment later saw Bill, followed by Hermione who had a very concerned look on her face.

“It's okay,” Harry immediately reassured Hermione. She didn't look convinced but stood next to him wondering what he was staring at. Harry quickly recapped what had happened when he reached for his broom and saw Bill nodding as if he dealt with this all the time. He waved his wand over the wall, then asked for Harry's proceeding to do the same movment.

“The reason your estate agent didn't pick this up,” Bill demonstrated by placing his hand on the wall and leaving it there, “is that this spell isn't for us. It's for you. Something is behind this wall, or written on it, but just disguised or invisible at the moment; you or someone in your family was to find it.”

“What? How could that be? No one knew Harry was going to buy this particular house,” Hermione insisted, touching Harry's forearm protectively.

“Probably someone he was related to owned this house before him and left the Potter signature. Your magical signature is like the genes inside us. You share certain characteristics with your mother and father, but since your father's parents were magical then it'll logically follow the Potter line back to whatever ancestor left this here.” Bill took out his wand and muttered some words in a language Harry had never heard before. Hermione squeezed his arm reassuringly and absentmindedly he reached up and patted her hand, watching Bill move down the wall seemingly to mark the beginning and end of the magical signature.

“Well? Am I doomed?” Harry joked, but was inwardly relieved when Bill shook his head. Turning around, his eyes flicked down to where Hermione was now holding Harry's hand, then moved up to Harry's face.

“It's a charm to hide something from people for which it wasn't intended. It's not a curse or hex; you just need to find the spell to break it and whatever is inside that wall, or written on it, will be revealed. But, since you're the only one that can feel it, and I know it's a charm with the Potter signature, then only you can break it.”

“Soooo…someone in my family lived here? I'm pretty sure my father never did.”

“Do you know where your grandparents lived, Harry?” Hermione asked quietly. Harry thought for a moment and shook his head, letting go of her hand to take his wand back from Bill.

“All I know is that they were older when they had my dad and he was an only child.”

“Well, as long as what is on that wall isn't dangerous,” Hermione began, seeing Bill shake his head that it wasn't, “then we should probably go reassure Molly that you aren't hurt or something. Everyone was surprised to see your patronus come shortly after you had just left.”

“Sorry,” Harry grinned sheepishly, “It was the first thing I thought of. I didn't want to leave the area to use the floo.”

“Understandable. Sometimes these kinds of charms do move around. But this one seems pretty stable; and old too,” Bill added, taking another reading. “Over sixty five years old I'd say.”

“After we're done dinner maybe we can do some research on your family tree and the previous owners of this house? I'm pretty sure you aren't related to the Gladrags,” Hermione smiled up at him watching him shake his head vehemently.

“Wouldn't Ginny have loved that, if you were?” Bill said lightly, pocketing his wand and Harry had to laugh. Ginny loved clothes and most of her extra money had gone to her wardrobe; Harry remembered a few shopping trips that left him laden with bags.

“Thank Merlin I'm not. Shopping for clothes the three times I did was enough for a lifetime.” Harry laughed, glancing down at Hermione who was smiling. It was the first time they had talked about Ginny with an ease that hadn't be apparent before. It felt almost…freeing…to Harry that he could talk about her with her family. He knew Bill had obviously seen Hermione gripping his hand and still had brought up Ginny. And Bill did it with such ease; without making Harry feel guilty that he was standing here with someone that wasn't Ginny.

“Hermione's right, let's get back to the Burrow. Just don't forget your broom. If you need help with researching let me know; I have numerous books on the subject. Probably some even Hermione hasn't seen,” Bill winked at her as her face lit up. Minutes later, all three were back at the Burrow and quickly explained what transpired. Of course, the twins were immediately thinking bodies of Harry's ancestors were buried there, making Fleur cover baby Will's ears.

“I think on that note, its Quidditch time,” Charlie interrupted and all the men, along with Hermione who was holding two year old Will (who insisted on watching) began traipsing through the apple orchard to the makeshift Quidditch field.

---

As the sun set behind the trees, and dinner was consumed without a crumb left for any owl that happened to fly by, Harry was walking around with Will, patiently answering questions about “why” a Snitch had wings. Harry tried to explain simply that it was named after a bird and that the name Quidditch was named after a place called Queerditch Marsh. Will had found it fascinating to watch Harry and Charlie zoom around trying to catch the snitch they had charmed to not go above the tree line. He rooted for both of them, screaming “Uncle Harry” or “Uncle Charlie” when he saw the snitch zoom by him, where he was safely perched on Hermione's hip most of the evening.

As he walked with Will settled in his arms, Will suddenly pointed a chubby finger at a picture on the wall.

“Uncle! Uncles!” he chortled and Harry nodded his eyes resting on his best friend. The picture was one of Ron, Harry, Fred and George in their Quidditch uniforms, waving happily to the camera.

“Yep, there's your Uncles Fred and George and Uncle Ron, who you probably don't remember,” Harry said quietly. He felt Will's hand grab the back of his shirt as he leaned closer to look at the picture. Harry pointed at Uncle Ron.

“There's your Uncle Ron…you've seen pictures before, right?”

“Uh-huh. At home!” he said bouncing up and down, turning his blue eyes to Harry for a second then back to the picture.

Harry pointed out the robes and mentioned what the castle was in the background.

“Your Uncle Ron was an excellent Keeper once he began playing. Maybe you will be one day too,” Harry mused, slightly surprised to see Will nod. He was very intelligent for a two year old and understood more than people thought he did so Harry went on. “He was very brave too, you know that?” Harry moved down the hall way, slightly, to Ron's seventh year picture and paused as Will's head swung back and forth between Harry and the photo as if asking Harry to continue.

“He tried to protect your Aunt Ginny and Aunt Hermione when those…bad people…came to hurt us. He didn't hesitate to step out in front of them and use his wand. Know that your uncle was one of the bravest people that I've ever met, along with your Aunt Ginny. I hope you're able to find friends just as loyal, as I did, when you get bigger, Will.”

“Dinny,” Will said simply pointing to the next picture. Harry cleared his throat trying to disengage the lump that had formed there, and simply nodded to Will as he pointed to Ginny, then moved his finger to Percy and on down the hall.

Hermione watched the exchange between Harry and his Godson as she struggled to keep her emotions under control. She had rarely heard Harry talk so freely about Ron and the Death Eaters, and leave it to a two year old to get Harry to talk. She could tell by the way he ran a hand over his eyes, as he and Will moved down the small hallway, looking at pictures, that he was also struggling with emotions he hadn't experienced in awhile. She hadn't felt them during the past few weeks either, which she thought was a huge step to healing for both of them and a huge step forward in their relationship. It didn't help that Will had the same blue eyes Ron did. The same expressions could be read in them as they could've in Ron's. Hermione quickly forced as smile to her face as Harry turned around and caught her eyes.

Will saw her and shimmied down Harry, running full force at Hermione and tackling her legs. Bending down she scooped him up for a quick hug before he struggled to get down and run over to his mother, who was talking to Katie in the kitchen.

“You okay? I heard what you said to Will,” Hermione whispered touching his hand. For a brief second he squeezed her fingers then shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding he was fine and smiling to prove it.

“Just hit me talking to Will, but I'm okay. Really, Hermione,” Harry reassured her. “Let's go; looks like Molly is serving dessert.”

---

Ron stared at the back of Harry as he walked down the hall, pointing out the different pictures of his family. For the first time, he heard Harry call him brave and shower him with compliments that were almost always associated with Harry himself.

He had seen the tears in Hermione's eyes as she watched Will and Harry look at the pictures; he had heard Harry's voice catch when he mentioned their names. Ron just wanted to reach out, lay a hand on Harry's shoulder and tell him he was the best mate anyone could have. But, instead, he watched his family eat dessert around the table. He took notice on how big Will was getting and let his eyes rest on Fleur for a moment. She was truly glowing with her early pregnancy (he had heard his mother ask how she and the baby were feeling when he came during dinner) and for the first time he could see everyone seemed to be moving on with their life, but hadn't forgotten him or Ginny.

Turning from his family's dinner table he floated outside, wishing he could feel the humid, summer air but instead feeling something akin to a tether, which had been holding him down, had been cut. He actually felt a wave of happiness wash over him, surprising him so much he actually gasped aloud, noticing he shook the leaves on the small scraggly tree in his parent's front yard.

Quickly, he disapparated and made his way to the dungeons where Ginny was hanging out playing cards and talking trash with Draco.

“Ginny!” Ron found her in the corner and rushed up to her.

“Ron? What's wrong?” Ginny could see the look of happiness over his face and wondered where he had been and what had happened. But all Ron answered her with were two words.

“I'm ready.”

-->

11. Affectionately Warm

Affectionately Warm

End of Chapter 10:

He had seen the tears in Hermione's eyes as she watched Will and Harry look at the pictures and had heard Harry's voice catch when he mentioned their names. Ron watched his family eat dessert around the table, noticed how big Will was getting and let his eyes rest on Fleur for a moment. She was truly glowing with her early pregnancy (he had heard his mother ask how she and the baby were feeling when he came during dinner) and for the first time he could see everyone seemed to be moving on with their life, but hadn't forgotten him or Ginny.

Turning from his family's dinner table he floated outside, wishing he could feel the humid, summer air but instead feeling a tether, which he felt had been holding him down, was suddenly cut. He actually felt a wave of happiness wash over hi,m surprising him so much he actually gasped aloud, noticing he shook the leaves on the small scraggly tree in his parent's front yard.

Quickly, he disapparated and made his way to the dungeons where Ginny was hanging out, playing cards and talking trash with Draco.

“Ginny!” Ron found her in the corner and rushed up to her.

“Ron? What's wrong?” Ginny could see the look of happiness over his face and wondered where he had been and what had happened. But all Ron answered her with were two words.

“I'm ready.”

----

“Are you sure, Ron that being a Hogwarts Ghost is what you want to do for the rest of…well…eternity?” Ginny asked her brother quietly.

“You could haunt the kitchens,” Draco added lightly, shuffling the deck of cards then dealing them out to the three of them.

“Yes, I'm sure. I can see everyone in my family and everyone in Harry's future family go through here. I can talk to him; talk to Hermione. I can see you on Halloween, if you decide to go to Echo, then let everyone know how you're doing.”

“Do you really think that Ginny's ex and your ex are going to want to hear everything; year after year about what she's up to?” Draco asked holding his cards in front of his face and moving them around in his hand.

“You called me Ginny.” She stared at him trying to figure out what he was playing at. So far, his interest lay in only his cards, although he did acknowledge her comment.

Draco glanced at her over his cards and gave her a brief, tiny smile.

“So I did.”

Ron continued, “Hey…if they don't want to know then fine they can tell me. But, I think it'll be great to be a ghost! And yeah, I could haunt the kitchens, but I don't want to be taken as the Hufflepuff ghost. They already have one anyway, since their dorms are down there. Hmmm,” Ron tapped a finger against his lips, “maybe the Dining Hall? I could have fun there. I'll have to tell Nick what I want to do soon.”

“When will you do this?” Ginny asked, laying her cards face down on the table, paying more attention to Ron than the poker game.

“No idea yet, really. All depends on what Nick says needs to be done.”

Ginny found she was having a hard time accepting the fact that she could be here without Ron. Obviously something clicked in that formerly ginger head of his and he was sure he was making the right decision. She needed to change the subject so she asked about their parents.

“Well…Fleur is pregnant again, but only like two months or something. And Harry found something in the basement of his house. It was some kind of magic that only he could feel. He called Bill to come take a look at it and he said it had the Potter signature. So, it could've been left by one of his relatives. Did you see anything on the chart family-tree thing you were looking for, Malfoy?”

Draco shook his head. “It wasn't out in the open. I think it was rolled up somewhere. Mum usually gets it out when someone gets married or dies, so I'm sure she'll be adding my death date any day now. I'll check tomorrow.” Draco sighed and laid his hand down.

“I'm done playing this. Anyone want to go check out Diagon Alley?”

Ginny and Ron looked at each other, but Ron shook his head.

“I'm going to find Nick. You go ahead, Ginny.”

“Alright. Nothing else to do.” Ginny stood up and placed her cards back into the pile.

“Let's go,” she motioned for Draco to go ahead of her out the wall and she followed him, leaving Ron to roam the castle in search of Nearly Headless Nick.

----

Harry laid awake in his bed, arms behind his head staring at the blurry patterns of leaves on his ceiling. The full moon shown through the trees and for a moment he thought of Professor Lupin and wondered how he was doing. Bill seemed normal enough that evening given he had been bitten by a werewolf years ago, but since the offender wasn't in werewolf form, Bill hadn't had any serious effects--except some pretty nice scars on one side of his face. Harry never even really noticed the marks anymore having seen them numerous times since the attack in his sixth year.

He could hear Hermione coming up the stairs from talking to her parents on her cell phone and she paused outside his door, looking in. He only had his bedside light on, and his glasses off, so he could barely make her out in the doorway.

“How're your parents?” Harry asked, not moving from his comfortable position on his bed. He was clad only in a pair of shorts and as Hermione walked in and got closer, he could see she was already changed into her broomstick pajamas.

“They're doing fine. They just got back from some dental convention in Wales, so they're tired.”

She perched herself on the edge of his bed near his knees but didn't look at him as she continued talking. “They made some plans for retirement so I got to hear about that too. What're you doing in here in the “almost” darkness?”

“Just thinking…noticed the full moon and thought about Remus. So, I'm basically just relaxing and happy to have a week off.”

“Oh yeah, I hear you on that. As much as I love teaching, I really need the break to regroup and start planning for next year.”

Harry knew better than to remark about how next school year was two months away, therefore he kept quiet.

“You know, you'll be twenty one in less than a month…have you thought of anything you'd like to do for your birthday?” Hermione now turned to look at him. Harry pushed himself up so he was propped against his headboard and shook his head.

“Just have a quiet day I suppose. I'm not too big on parties, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know…but I'd like to do something. Dinner out, go somewhere…you've been through a lot for a twenty one year old. You deserve something fun and frivolous!”

Harry laughed and nudged her with his knee.

“I'm fine, Hermione. If anything, it should be you getting that for all you've done for me!” he crossed his arms over his stomach and watched her shift towards him, knowing she was going to refute what she just said based on her body language. “I should be thanking you by taking you out or something,” Harry continued, interrupting what he knew would be a long speech about friendship, love, loyalty and the like. “We've had this conversation and I know you don't feel that you deserve to be…recognized as the person who basically held me up the past year but you have.” Harry sat forward, rested his elbows on his knees and touched her knee lightly. “So, just accept the fact that I'm eternally grateful for the support and…everything.”

“Harry, you did it, healed I mean, mostly by yourself. I was just there to listen and offer advice-,” Hermione began, taking his hand and tracing his knuckles but not looking up at him.

“Stop. You were there for me and if I didn't realize it then, I certainly do now. What can I say or do to make you believe my thanks to you?” Harry asked urgently, trying to get her to realize that she had intertwined herself into his life so deeply that he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to, or want to, untangle her from his life.

“You don't have to Harry,” she said softly. For a moment Harry sat still and felt her fingers tracing his knuckles, then stop as she noticed him staring at her. She lifted her eyes to him, at the same time lifting her mouth in a small smile, questioning him.

“I think I do,” he whispered feeling himself responding so fervently to her light touch. Right then, he realized he wanted to do something that he had never been able to finish with Ginny. He wanted Hermione to have a moment that was hers; all about Hermione Jane Granger and not about anyone else.

Taking a deep breath, Harry ran his hand up her smooth leg, feeling her tense then relax her thigh muscle under her touch. Resting his hand on her hip, he leaned in and touched his lips to hers, feeling her immediately respond by seeking entrance to his mouth with her tongue. After a bit of shifting, and lifting her up onto his now prone body, he began the slow process of kissing her tenderly, slowly relishing in the knowledge that this woman who had stood by him since childhood felt the same way about their new level of relationship. Her hand was rubbing slow circles on his chest as the other rested on the blankets beside his neck. God, it didn't take much for him to respond to her…sometimes all it took was a glance from her or a seeming innocent touch to send his blood roaring everywhere but his brain.

She was starting to pick up on the change she had brought about in him. For instance, Harry got the feeling she had meant to let her fingers trail along his leg, while under the table during the Weasley dinner, for just a little longer than normal as she picked up his napkin. Or, that she discovered that when she raised herself up on her tiptoes and pressed into him he could barely suppress a moan as every part of her hit him just right.

But now, as he carefully slipped her down to the bed and let her rest on her side, he began to force himself to control the urges he was feeling to speed things up. Slowly, he let his hand slide down to the hem of her shirt, and slid his hand under it, not hesitating in gently cupping her breast and squeezing it, feeling her instinctively arch against him.

Hermione brain screamed for him to continue and as if hearing her, he complied, squirming his hand to the other breast and squeezing, caressing so softly Hermione could feel herself turning into liquid. She almost stopped kissing him to just fall into the loving feel of his hands. He must have sensed her intense state because he trailed his hand to her back and rubbed it softly, massaging her from the neck down to her waist. She copied his movements, feeling him push against her slightly which awakened every cell in her body. In one deft movement, he slid off her pajama shorts and Hermione gave a small kick behind her to free her foot from the waistband. She is only too conscious that this is the first time she's been this intimate with Harry (Hermione now only clad in knickers and a thin, broom-stick patterned top).

She was sure that his hands were emanating unusual warmth as they moved slowly over her bum, pulling her towards him. Gasping against his mouth encouraged him to become bolder and a moment later his warm, strong hand was against bare skin where only one other person had touched before. But Ron's hands had never been this warm…this blazing hot and she could only writhe and grind her hips against Harry's, trying to quell the rising tide of fire inside her.

Some part of her brain told her to let Harry know how much she loved what he was doing; how she loved the small sensual squeezes his hands were making under her knickers and she reached a hand between them, seeking his hardness. She felt him falter in his movements for a second then actually felt him pull in every ounce of control he had to not push against her. It actually felt like static being drawn away from her and back into him. He gently pushed her shoulder down so she rolled to her back, forcing her to dislodge her hand. So, she slid it around back feeling the warmth of his skin, grabbing the back of his shorts trying to anchor herself to the bed as his impassioned kisses covered her mouth and her neck.

The light touch of his fingers trailed around her ribs, making her squirm against him. She let out a soft cry as his hand trailed up her stomach, pausing as he pushed her shirt up. The pounding she felt deep in her abdomen, she was sure, transferred to his hand as it rested on her stomach. Her hands tangled in the softness of his hair as his mouth trailed down her jaw, kissed her earlobe and painstakingly moved to her throat where he sucked gently, triggering a quiet moan from somewhere deep inside her. He then moved his mouth up and over her shirt to her breast, which he explored sensuously with his tongue and lips. She clutched his shoulders pushing up against him, softly crying out his name feeling every part of her body responding to his touch. She tried to wriggle herself underneath him but his free hand pinned her hips to the mattress. As his lips brushed the valley between her breasts she found she couldn't move her other arm because it was pinned between his body and the bed. She felt frozen- immobile- and at the same time so feverish with desire, she didn't know if she wanted him to continue or beg him to stop. She opened her mouth to encourage him as his warm, soft mouth kissed the other side of her chest but instead of his name tumbling out she whispered three words.

“What're you doing?” those words released his lips from her breast and he quickly reclaimed her mouth, demanding all her breath so she couldn't repeat herself. Very slowly, she could feel him pull away, letting air rush back into her lungs and she opened her eyes to admonish him for stopping. Hermione saw him staring at her and without the barrier of his glasses, he literally stole her breath away again. His beautiful green eyes were shining and full of the image of her.

“Being grateful,” he finally answered simply, and kissed her again, stealing every last coherent thought so she couldn't question him further. The cool air that had been swirling over her chest was replaced with the pajama top he so sweetly tugged back down…but his hand didn't stop. His fingers left the hem and as she felt them touch the waistband of her knickers, they were suddenly gone.

“OH!” Hermione gasped, wondering where in the hell they went. His hand hesitantly moved down, waiting for her to give any signal for him to stop but instead the slight shift of his weight let her wrestle her pinned arm free and she reached above her, grabbing his headboard, pushing down against his hand. She could feel the heel of his hand sliding down following the torturous path of his fingers and it was all she could do to keep herself against hid bed.

“Harry, please,” was all she could say against his soft but demanding lips, as sweat trickled down her back. Her heart beat in time with the throbbing ache deep inside her; trying to pound its way out of her. Her other hand clutched his arm, digging her fingers into his shoulder as his warm hand pressed against her more intimately and lovingly than anyone had done before. She couldn't catch her breath and she tore her lips from his where she had stopped kissing him minutes earlier, losing all sense of herself. She felt her body take over, pushing against his hand, creating friction which burned deep inside her. Her fingernails dug into her palm as she gripped a spindle of his headboard and the momentary flash of pain brought her back to his bed. She feels an arm snake under her shoulders half rolling her to him as his hand left imprints that burned on the insides of her thigh.

“Now, please…,” she heard herself moan against his cheek. Suddenly she sucked in a lungful of air as his finger moves down a very sensitive part of her body. Then, without any more warning, he pushed his wonderfully warm finger inside her. Hermione felt like she was falling, spinning, teetering and flung her arms around his back, gripping so hard she is sure she's drawing blood with her nails but she didn't care. She only wanted him to finish what he had started. The tight knot that formed began to unravel and she moved violently against his hand, seeking something she couldn't get to fast enough. A word she rarely used flew out of her mouth as a second finger joined one inside her, pushing her to the limit of her insanity. His lips sucked at her neck and she cried out his name, jerking and moving against him: faster, harder and more furious than she knew she could move; feeling something like electric lava shoot through her veins, up through her neck and rushing back down seeking release. His name tore from her throat as the unbearable ache exploded around her, paralyzing her with a pleasure she had never felt this intensely as every part of her body, every shred of her soul, clung to Harry which was the only thing anchoring her to the bed. He absorbed her uncharacteristic yells and cries with his mouth…and slowly, leisurely, she feels him pull her back to the real world using that force she had felt weeks ago.

His hand slowly moved to her hip as he pulled her knickers back up from wherever he had magically sent them. He eased her back to the bed and she could feel the softness of his bedcovers under her bare back. Her top is twisted and barely cover her breasts, but she didn't care. The boneless, giddy feeling takes over and she lets her arm fall from his shoulders, taking deep breaths to try and fill her mind with needed oxygen.

“I died,” she whispered haltingly and Harry slides down to his side, quite satisfied with the surprisingly forceful response Hermione gave him, stoking his ego quite a bit. “This is heaven, right?”

Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling her curl into him, snuggling her head on to his shoulder.

“No…still in Hogsmeade…early Saturday morning, but you did travel into another day,” Harry joked softly and felt her laugh weakly. She was so relaxed he was sure she had no energy to move even if a herd of wild animals came stampeding through his room.

“Why, Harry?” Hermione asked, a bit of her seriousness back. Her arm was wrapped around his waist and he hoped she wouldn't move it any lower. He was successfully calming himself down, still fully intent on making this all about her. He was sure though, if he knew Hermione, his turn would come…quickly he banished that thought from his mind, squeezing her shoulder instead.

“Best way I could think of to thank you for always being there for me,” he said quietly. “For once, Hermione, let something be about you; just about you…for a change.”

Hermione was silent and from the way her hand was moving against his hip, absentmindedly, he could tell she was trying to think of an argument. As the silence grew longer, he felt a small trickle of victory seep into his heart; she was speechless or finally realized he truly meant that he wanted something for her. And, he so enjoyed the way she clung to him and the sexy way she moved and called his name he was sure he would do this to her again.

“Hermione…,” Harry kissed the top of her head not sure whether to say the thought on the tip of his tongue or not. His brain was running through scenarios that would happen after he told her this thought, or the particular response she might give. Nothing he could come up with was awful enough for him to not voice it. So, summoning up his courage he gently wrapped both arms around her pulling her closer to him.

“That was a first for me…doing that to a girl, uh, woman. And-,” he began explaining but Hermione interrupted him with a startled, “What?”

“You were with Ginny a year and she never let you do that to her?” Incredulity filled Hermione's voice.

Harry pressed his mouth into her hair and breathed in deeply, trying to figure out how to have this conversation without faulting anyone.

“I don't know if it's appropriate to talk about her…here like this or not, but she never let me…finish what I started…so to speak,” he said haltingly against her hair.

“Why? Was she stupid?” Hermione joked, still on a high. Harry choked back a laugh, disguising it as a sudden cough turning his head away from her for a second.

“No,” he answered, turning back to her, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Ummm…every time I got her close, she'd push me away and basically climb on top of me and finish…well, it's always lead to sex. I never really asked her why. Why would I complain about sex?” he said softly feeling slightly embarrassed for revealing this to Hermione, who was curled against him like a cat, and a very warm, soft one at that.

“Well, if we're being honest here, Ron wasn't a huge foreplay person…so, I guess you do whatever works or find common ground somewhere. I have to admit I can't imagine anything better than what you just gave me. You had to have some kind of powerful magic mixed in with…that-,” Hermione said into Harry's neck. He shrugged, truly not able to reassure her that 100% of his magical powers were in check, as he was touching her, so he just nodded. He was afraid to say anything that might jinx the satiated, happy feeling he had just lying with Hermione. And he was afraid to take away that comfortableness with which they had just talked about Ron and Ginny and the personal details of their past intimate lives.

Hermione curled up closer against him, making Harry wonder why they had never discovered this side about each other sooner.

“How did you make my knickers disappear?”

He smiled and gave the shoulder she was laying on a shrug. He truly didn't know. He remembered thinking it'd be nice if they were gone and suddenly they were.

“Well, patent it because that was brilliant.”

“Glad you liked it. Another first. Ginny always liked to know where her clothes were since she sometimes had to get up and go back home,” Harry said before he could stop himself. `Do NOT talk about Ginny here, with Hermione in your arms! Bastard!' Harry berated himself, closing his eyes against the darkness that was now prevalent in his room. Hermione didn't seem angry or flustered in the least with the mention of Ginny.

“Feel free to do that…umm, knickers thing…again,” Hermione whispered shyly and he could feel the heat of blush in her cheek against his shoulder.

“You just wait,” Harry told her frankly, surprising himself with how easily that slid from his mouth. He felt her smile, then moments later her breathing evened into a steady, sleepy breathing. Smiling to himself, Harry let himself relax and felt the comfort of sleep fold over him.

----

“Basically, Ron, you just need to tell me when you want to become a ghost and we just need to recite some magical incantations, lift a ward or two around the tower or area you want to spend most time in and that's it,” Nearly Headless Nick told Ron plainly. Ginny stared at Ron, realizing for the first time he fully felt that Hermione and Harry were happy and had healed past his death. She knew, as a female, she required more commitment from her friends that had recently come together in the live world. She was barely conscious of Draco's hand, steady and reassuring against her back.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny asked her brother if he was sure this is what he wanted. She had just returned from Diagon Alley with Draco, where they had trailed a very mopey looking Pansy Parkinson for a bit before Draco said he was done trying to figure out what was wrong with his previously on again/ off again girlfriend. Now, she had just floated back in to the dungeons to be accosted by Ron's decision to move on, sooner rather than later. Her head was truly spinning.

“I am sure, Ginny. I've never been more sure in my life. It's almost like…almost like,” he struggled to find the words to portray what he was feeling, “hmmm…like I really drank that Felix Felicis Potion. This is right. Think, Ginny,” Ron turned to her, excitement in his pale eyes as he repeated what he said earlier that day. “I can talk to Harry, Hermione or anyone else I chose to. I can relay to them how you are doing, if you chose to go to Echo. I'll still see you once a year, unless there are other times too,” Ron's gaze shifted to Nick who gave a small shake of his head. Ron turned back to Ginny and smiled reassuringly.

“I'll be okay. It'll be fun for me. I can sit in on classes and not get tested, I can talk to people and they can talk back...to me. I can watch all the Quidditch I want. I can see our nieces and nephews go through Hogwarts and they'll know me.”

Ginny swore if she could cry, she would; the tables had turned. She had been so sure it would be her that healed first; it would be her that made the first decision as to what she wanted to do when being Light wasn't an option anymore. But hearing Harry praise Ron had been the cement in Ron's decision.

“Just think of all the jokes Fred and George can tell me, that I can take back to school,” Ron told Ginny, relieved when she gave a small, but genuine smile. She could feel her brother already distancing himself from her. She didn't realize she was leaning against Draco, searching for something solid to anchor her down; something to stop her from trying to physically keep her brother from leaving.

“I…I'll miss you Ron,” Ginny whispered, watching Ron's eyes shift from hers, to Draco next to her, then back down to her.

“I'll miss you too, but it's July first now. I'm pretty sure, if I know you at all, you'll head to that Echo world and I'll see you in three and a half months.” Ron laid a hand on her arm and she felt him squeeze. “Besides, since Nick is one of the few ghosts that can be seen in The Light and The Ghost world, we can communicate through him.”

Nearly Headless Nick nodded silently watching Ginny struggle with letting her brother go; letting him out from under her control she had over him for most of their time as Light wasn't easy for her.

“Okay,” Ginny whispered.

“Enjoy,” was all Draco said to Ron. Ron nodded at him, paused as if thinking about something then took a step closer.

“You better take care of my sister,” he told Draco. It sounded like a threat, command and elicit of a promise all at once.

“She could do just fine on her own, but I'll do what I can,” Draco answered. Ginny felt him tighten his grip around her waist and for the first time became fully aware that she was pressed up against his side.

“Do you want to do this now?” Nick asked Ron, who nodded without hesitation. Ginny pressed her fist against her mouth, happy for once that she couldn't cry even if she wanted. That's all she needed at this moment was for Draco Malfoy to see tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I'm ready. What do I need to do?” Ron asked eagerly, touching Ginny's hand, and mouthing “I love you”. His eyes rested on Ginny's face for a moment as she mouthed it back, then he turned to Nick.

“All you need to do is repeat these words after me,” Nick flicked his hand and a small bit of parchment floated down from the ceiling. “Then, you'll have thirty seconds to find where you would like to pick as your resting spot in or out of the castle. The ward for that section will be down for only a short time and you'll know it as you hover outside it. You just need to float through that space you feel is open and you'll be a ghost. Probably a good time to be doing this so you don't scare an unsuspecting first year to death. I would recommend getting acclimated to life as a Ghost before you reveal yourself to anyone you may know that is in the castle. Know where you can and can't go, or pass through. Peeves and Bloody Barron all have areas they consider theirs, so you'll need to learn where they are.”

“I can still visit wherever I want to right? In the castle or on the grounds?” Ron asked, reading down through the paper Nick had handed him.

“Yes. But at night, you must always return to that spot you picked until dawn or you'll be locked out, so to speak.”

“Okay.”

“Where are you going?” Ginny whispered, knowing the answer before he even said it.

“Why, the dining hall of course, then split my time between Gryffindor Tower and the Quidditch Pitch.”

Draco snorted and Ginny realized he also had known what Ron was going to say before she had asked.

“Okay, Nick, let's go do this. Ginny, I'll let you know, through Nick, how I am in a day or two. Don't worry okay? Please?”

Ginny gave a shaky smile, crossing her arms around her waist, feeling her fingers skim over Draco's hand. She just nodded and after Ron placed a lukewarm kiss on her forehead, he turned and she watched him disappear through the dungeon wall up to the dining hall where he was to reside for the rest of Hogwarts' life.

A moment later Ginny felt a small tug from somewhere inside her and realized that Ron had indeed left The Light.

“He's gone,” she whispered, turning to leave Draco's side but he held her firmly.

“I said I'd make sure you were okay and you aren't right now, so don't be trying to go anywhere,” Draco said firmly, startling Ginny with the forcefulness behind his words. For a moment she felt truly lost and just spread out her arms in a helpless gesture.

“I think I need to go see how-,” she began falling back on the Harry and Hermione excuse to feel in control again.

Draco shook his pale blond head, his hand still firmly gripping her hip.

“You need to process and let this sink in. Let those two be for a moment.”

Ginny looked at him and wondered when niceness had entered his body. He pulled her towards him and with each inch she drew nearer the more solid she felt. And suddenly, she was in his embrace, his arms wrapped around her waist. Her hands were resting on his back with her cheek against his shoulder. And for one brief moment, she felt human, warm and alive again. He was feeling very warm to her and also hard, solid and strong against her. The thought that she could get used to standing like that with him startled her so much she pulled away and dropped her hands.

“Let's go see your mother. I wonder if she has your family tree out yet.”

Draco looked at her for a moment then let his hands drop.

“I guess it wouldn't hurt to hang around there and see if she pulls it out over the weekend.”

“Good. Let's go. It'll keep my mind off of Ron and-,” Ginny shut her mind before she spouted out Draco's name. He looked down at her as they floated through the wall and across the darkened grounds.

“ `And' what?”

“Just…everything.” She said it too quickly for Draco to believe that was what she was going to actually say. But, for once he stayed quiet.

“Come on, let's go see who lived in Harry's house after Phineas-- if it indeed passed down to his children,” Ginny said, her voice a bit firmer. And together, they headed out to Malfoy Manor.

-->

12. White Light

A/N: I reference the Black Family Tree in this chapter. There is a wonderful copy at this site: http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/blackfamilytree.html. JK just released this a few months ago. She put it up for auction to raise money and, for those of you who don't know who won the tree--- it was Daniel Radcliffe's mother. She paid around $32,000 (American Dollars). And now…on to the next chapter!

-----

White Light

Harry stared at the wall in the basement after confirming that the magic he had felt a few days ago was still there. Hermione had spent most of Sunday in the library at Hogwarts trying to find ways to break through the Potter Magic that had been cast so long ago.

He rocked back and forth on his heels, staring and thinking as he tried to come up with any clues as to how to break through the magic; nothing he remembered from his education prepared him for this. He wondered (if the tradition continued backwards through his family) that maybe “love” had something to do with breaking through it. He truly felt helpless that he didn't have the answer.

“What do you think, Hermione? Could something along the lines of love be the answer?” Harry asked loudly so his voice carried upstairs to where she was still eating her lunch.

“Perhaps, but I'm not sure how that could be incorporated into the magic. Tell the wall you love it,” she laughed from upstairs.

Harry smiled at her levity. Both were fully de-stressed from teaching, having spent yesterday doing their own things in the morning: Hermione researching and Harry flying with Fred for a few hours, but only after Hermione thanked him for the previous night in a way he would never forget. He realized that what she was doing with her hands, as he woke up late Saturday morning, was the best wake up call in the history of mankind.

Saturday afternoon he and Hermione actually took in a Muggle movie and enjoyed a relaxing dinner out. She had fallen asleep on the sofa that evening as they each read their own material. He had laid a blanket over her and headed up to his room, noticing that it was much nicer to have her in bed with him.

“The wall just told me it loved me back…what do I do now?” Harry joked back to her, jumping visibly when she answered him from his side. He had been so lost in his day dream about Hermione sharing his bed he hadn't heard her come down the stairs.

“I think you should kiss it,” she answered, smiling slyly at him.

“I prefer…softer things to kiss. Besides, it's not the Blarney Stone,” Harry rebutted, snaking an arm around her waist, still staring at the wall.

“Not that we know of anyway,” Hermione turned serious, “I managed to trace your family tree back pretty far. I went to Grimmauld and looked at that tapestry you put in the back bedroom and that, combined with some books at Hogwarts, helped me find some interesting connections in your family. I just finished drawing up a family tree upstairs; do you want to see? It might add some insight into what is behind wall number one.”

“Okay…show me what you have,” Harry answered, guiding her up the basement stairs and following her into the library. She found a large book on a middle shelf, opened it and set it on the table behind the sofa. Together they sat down and she pulled out a large piece of parchment tucked between the pages.

Hermione pointed to Draco Malfoy's name at the bottom and traced a zig zag line about half way up the page.

“See here it says Dorea, that'd be Black, married Charlus Potter; that'd be your grandparents, since you said they were older when your dad was born. If you go back further you'll recognize some of these last names from school: Bullstrode, Crabbe…over here is McMillian…but none of those magical signatures are on your basement wall. Just Potter. So, my thought is that your grandparents probably lived here or visited here. Bill said the magic was probably over sixty five years old. Look at when your grandmother was born: 1920…if she got married around 1937 or so, maybe later I couldn't find a date, that spell, if she cast it, would definitely be over sixty years old. Charlus and Dorea could've lived here. Your father probably wasn't born here because Miss Wallengampit said the Gladrags owned this for fifty years. So, for some reason the parents of Dorea moved away and sold to the Gladrags. Someone in Dorea's family, or her husband's, cast some charm down there in the basement. Or, on the flip side, the item in the wall is Potter oriented and someone else stuck it there for some unknown reason; using dark magic to cover it,” Hermione slid the paper over towards him and muttered, “for now anyway.”

Harry stared at the paper in front of him. He remembered hearing that all purebloods were related…and it seemed as if there was pure blood far back on his father's side. But given that his father's name, or even his mother's name wasn't even added to the tree, yet Draco's was, he could only conclude that his father marrying his mother had take away the “privilege” to appear on the Black Family Tree. He was pretty sure the Potter side was pureblooded until his father married his mother. All that was written under his grandfather's name was “one son”. And what about the object downstairs? He truly didn't know what it was, just that it related to him somehow.

“Luna.” Harry turned towards Hermione as his friend's name popped into his head. “Maybe she can help. Either tell us what is behind, or on the wall, or maybe has some sense of what needs to be said or done to break that magical…,” he paused as he struggled for the word to describe what was downstairs, “well, I don't want to say curse but I'm at a loss as to what else to call it.”

Hermione nodded. “I know; `curse' is too strong; `charm' makes it seem like it we could find the countercharm easily and so far, we haven't been able to, but Luna is a great idea. Why don't I floo them and see if they want to come over for lunch? We could have her take a look down there.” Hermione scooted away from the table and headed for the fireplace in the living room. Harry continued staring at the family tree Hermione had drawn up.

`What could possibly motivate my grandparents to hide something in or on that wall?' Harry thought to himself. He used his finger to trace tiny circles around his grandfather's name, feeling that the absence of his mother and father's name had something to do with whatever was down on his basement wall.

Four hours later, Luna twirled her shell necklace around her finger as she stared at the four by four section on the wall. Hermione had marked the area of magical energy with a semi-permanent charm. The lines glowed brightly and it faintly resembled an empty picture frame.

“Anything?” Neville asked Luna from his spot on an overturned crate. Harry sat next to him as the girls stood in front of the wall seemingly just staring into space.

“For some reason I sense that we know part of what is back there. Either it's something we have seen, or know; maybe a story that has been told to us before. I just can't put my finger on what it is though, Harry. Would you mind if I tried to summon Ginny? Since she is able to float through walls, maybe she can see something we can't.”

At the mention of Ginny's name Neville and Harry looked at each other then over to the girls, both remembering how uncomfortable they were when Ginny appeared the last time.

Hermione gave Harry a small raise of her eyebrows letting him know the decision was up to him. Harry vividly remembered the last time Luna had channeled Ginny and wasn't looking forward to feeling that faint and sick again.

“Maybe now that you're ready for her, you'll feel a bit better about it,” Neville suggested as if reading Harry's thoughts.

“Hermione, what do you think?” Harry asked as he rested his hands on his knees, tightly gripping his legs, trying to keep his nervousness at bay. What if Ginny came and could sense what was happening between him and Hermione? What would she think? He felt a very filmy sense of guilt creeping around his subconscious. `But, she's dead so her thoughts don't-,' his own thoughts were interrupted.

“That it's not a bad idea actually,” Hermione said softly walking over to Harry's spot, next to Neville, and crouching down in front of him. Harry met her eyes and for a moment they locked together, which effectively locked out everything around him.

“Don't you think it'll be awkward?” Harry whispered referring to the two of them.

“We won't be seeing her and it might be a good way to test the waters,” she whispered back resting a hand on his knee. Neither one was aware of the slight smile that curved over Luna's full mouth nor the slightly surprised look from Neville just a few feet away. “Besides, she's smart enough to understand that neither of us was going to take a life of loneliness because we each lost a significant other.”

“I know,” Harry nodded as his eyes searched her bright, warm brown ones that stayed locked on his. Harry took a deep breath and gave her a small nod, gripping her hands tightly. “We'll do it.”

“I'll be here with you, Harry. As will Luna and Neville and we'll both be ready when she decides to make her presence known,” Hermione leaned towards him and in front of Neville and Luna placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips.

Neville whistled and Luna sighed the word, “Finally,” to which Harry smiled at her, through his blush.

“How long have you been keeping that secret?” Neville asked grinning at his friend.

“Not very long, the week we moved pretty much,” Hermione answered, pulling Harry up with her and turning to Luna.

“I told you it would happen, Harry,” Luna said and Harry nodded, pretending not to see Hermione's quizzical look. He had forgotten to relay the conversation Luna had with him the day he and Hermione moved it. Harry squeezed her hand in silent communication that he would explain it later.

“So, you are okay with me trying to summon her to the house?”

Harry nodded, still gripping Hermione's hand.

“Okay…I just need some time and some space.”

“Why don't we go upstairs and wait?” Neville suggested seeing his fiancée nod in agreement. He quickly planted a kiss on her cheek and the three of them walked up to the library. Harry figured he'd show Neville the family tree Hermione had managed to put together as he tried not to think about Luna summoning Ginny's spirit.

Harry's thoughts were actually fully into the Black family tree as he talked through many different scenarios about why his parents weren't listed when he heard Luna's voice calling for him. All talking stopped and Neville looked at Harry, who was looking apprehensively at Hermione who was looking at the open basement door. Wordlessly, the three of them stood up and Neville led the way downstairs, standing to the side once he reached the bottom to let Harry pass.

“She's here, Harry, and we're just waiting for you to tell us whether you want her to check out what's behind that wall,” Luna talked to Harry in a breezy voice as if this was something she did everyday. Harry felt for Hermione's hand and held it tightly, feeling her wrap both her hands around his. He could only nod as his eyes shifted around the basement, looking for any sign of Ginny's spirit.

“Okay.” Luna saw his nod and clasped her hands in front of her. “Ginny said she'll go through it from inside until she reaches the lawn, and then do it in reverse.”

Harry nodded again, his pulse racing with the knowledge that Ginny was probably just inches away yet he couldn't see her, or hear her; and his mind was racing wondering what was behind “Wall Number One” as Hermione had taken to calling it.

Harry and Hermione both stared at the square which was illuminated by the light markings when a sudden blur of one of the lights startled him. Hermione hadn't seemed to notice but when Harry's eyes shifted to Luna he found her looking at him. Smiling reassuringly, she gave a nod, answering his unspoken question if that small, short blur was Ginny passing through the wall. Harry held his breath, his heart beating wildly beneath his cotton shirt. What was she going to find…if anything? He could tell Hermione was anxious too, from the way her thumb was moving back and forth across his knuckles. He glanced down at her and caught her eye only to hear Luna start speaking again.

“She said that it was the strangest thing, once she tried to go through the wall, from either way, she got pushed to the side. So, even she couldn't see what was in that four by four block that is magically protected.”

“Nothing?” Harry asked with an element of surprise in his voice. He had never known a ghost or any other kind of spirit to NOT be able to pass through something.

“That's what she says. She says she's sorry,” Luna told him softly. Harry couldn't help but smile, knowing how Ginny hated to let him down. His eyes roamed around Luna's tall thin form, wondering if Ginny was looking at him and Hermione.

“It's not her fault,” he and Hermione said in unison.

“She did say it was the first thing that she hasn't been able to pass through,” Luna paused and cocked her head to the side as if listening to a song only she could hear, “and that she will ask Nearly Headless Nick when she returns to Hogwarts if he knows anything about how she can't physically pass through that spot.”

“Nearly Headless Nick?” Neville gasped then started laughing. “He is in charge of them in the afterlife?” Neville hooted with laughter, causing Harry and Hermione to smile and start the contagious laughing.

“Yeah; she's laughing too,” Luna grinned and that set all four of them hysterically laughing until they were holding their stomach, wiping the tears streaming from their eyes.

----

“The only kind of magic that can propel you away is if a charm is placed upon it so only the person for whom it's intended can access it.” Nick was actually galloping his horse around outside the grounds as Ginny and Draco watched him make a circuit, slowing down when he came within a few yards of where they were standing near the lake.

“So, it's probably a Potter's signature; one of his ancestors,” Draco deduced. Ginny turned to him hands on her hips but he continued on, holding up his hand for her to stay quiet for a moment longer. “Ginny said she felt that Potter needed that house. Harry seemed intent on getting it and from what Ginny's brother said it has a Potter signature so probably only he could open it. Maybe his great grandparents lived there or something.”

“I think we need to see your mum's family tree; why don't you tell her to hurry up and pull it out?” Ginny interjected as Nick came galloping back around and pulled his horse to a stop. She and Draco had hung around his house all weekend and she refused to go near the drawer it was in.

“Not a half bad idea; you figure out how to make her. Once we see it, we might be able to trace back the Potter line a bit and come up with a name at least. Then, ask around to some of the ghosts to see if they remember who lived in it before the Gladrags. Also, it doesn't have to be a Potter that owned the house; the object could have the Potter signature on it as well or a Potter could've hidden it there. There's only so much you can do as Light, so you'll have to rely on your friends to do most of the research.”

“Knowing Hermione she'll be all over this charm. She hates when she doesn't understand or know something,” Ginny remembered fondly.

“Kind of like someone else,” Draco said lightly giving Nick a half hearted wave as he seemed to run over the lake to the other side.

“I do not,” Ginny defended herself as they walked back towards the courtyard in the evening light.

“Sure you do. You've asked Nick a hundred times already if he's heard from Ron. You know it takes him awhile to get acclimated and meet with the other ghosts.”

“He's my brother, that's different,” Ginny argued, stopping suddenly as he seemed to turn around in a blur.

“And I bet your mind is running a mile a minute as you try to make sense of this charm in Potter's house. And, the fact you don't know if Potter and Granger will get together for good is bothering you too. Why can't you just let that go? It's been a year and it's obvious, at least when I saw them out and about in Hogsmeade with Longbottom, that they are in a relationship. You don't just hold hands with friend for that long,” Draco said boyishly as he looked down at her lounging near the stone wall near the door to the castle.

“I know that. I saw them holding hands in his basement and saw the looks they gave each other. It really made me happy to see them together and just the looks they gave each other…,” Ginny stopped herself from revealing too many of her thoughts by taking a deep breath. “Though, I admit I don't know what is holding me back from just going on to Echo. I think they need to take everything one step further.” Ginny tapped her finger against her lips as she tried to make sense of why she didn't feel her “mission” was completed.

“See, it's bugging you. I have no idea why I'm here but I'm just letting it roll off my back. I'll know it when I see it; or when I am suddenly yanked from this world to whatever is next for me.” Draco stood next to her looking up at the passing clouds.

“Don't you want to go to Echo since you can?”

“Don't know yet. Why?” he turned towards her with a small smile on his face. “Do you want me to go with you to Echo?”

Ginny opened her mouth to answer but quickly shut it, which was all Draco needed as an answer. She didn't adamantly say “no” so in his mind, her non-responsiveness meant that she hoped he would go to Echo with her.

“Why do you want me to go there?” he turned so he was facing her, dangerously close so Ginny could actually feel warmth radiating from him. She suddenly felt a sense of nervousness and knew if she had one, her heart would be beating a mile a minute, betraying what she hoped was a calm exterior. She couldn't meet his eyes, so she looked off to the side, past his arm towards a tree in the middle of the courtyard and just shrugged.

“Look at me,” he whispered and she felt compelled to pull her eyes back to his. They stared at each other for a moment and Ginny realized he was waiting for an answer.

“Who said I wanted you to go there?” she asked quietly, startled to feel his hand sliding up her arm then resting on the crook of her elbow.

“You didn't say either way, which to me means you are leaning towards a yes, but I'm just intrigued as to why you would want me there.” He squeezed her elbow slightly and she just looked at him, feeling slightly mesmerized by the way his gray gaze held her hazel one and the tingling, warm feeling that was radiating through her arm.

“I don't know Draco,” she finally admitted, her eyes widening in surprise as he smiled then lowered his lips to her ear.

“Oh, I think I do,” he said so quietly she could barely hear him. She reached out to steady herself, grabbing his arm as a strange feeling of weight seemed to take over her Light body. The next moment his lips touched hers and she gasped in how real and alive he felt to her. His lips were soft and knowing as they explored hers. She felt a strange humming start from the tip of her head then work its way down slowly, seeming to circle around her like someone was wrapping her up in a soft ribbon. A small moan escaped her as his lips slid over her cheek and back to her ear. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt to steady herself, she heard him whisper yet again.

“And I think you do, too.” Carefully, gently, he reached up and took her hands peeling them away from his shirt. With a small squeeze he dropped them, turned and flew off towards one of the towers, leaving Ginny bewildered and feeling strangely weighted down. She looked down at her hands and thought maybe they looked a bit more opaque than translucent, like they had been for over a year. Her mind was swirling with images of Harry and Hermione holding hands, the feel of Draco's mouth against hers, the feel of being pushed to the side as she tried to pass through the four by four square on Harry's wall. All these new feelings were making her confused, so she decided to go down to the Quidditch stands and think. Hopefully, before she saw Draco again after dinner that evening, she would have herself under control.

------

A/N: I'm sorry it took longer than usual to post the last two chapters. I had to go out of state for a few days to attend a funeral and in between that and the traveling to get there, and getting things under control here (so I could leave) writing took a back burner. This is shorter than usual, because I think it ends well for both Ginny and Harry's world. Also, thanks for the reviews. I read them all!

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13. Full Spectrum

Full Spectrum

It was Wednesday. Three days until Hermione left for the States with her parents and she was determined to make some headway on the mysterious “Wall Number One” in Harry's basement. All day on Monday and Tuesday, as Harry flitted in between meetings with McGonagall and the Ministry (gathering information on renewing the wards), Hermione visited the stores in Hogsmeade trying to drum up information on who owned the house before the Gladrags.

One conversation had been very informative and it came from a newer store called “Dot and Cross” ( a store specializing in all kinds of writing instruments both magical and Muggle). The owner, a Mister Fillpott, had said when he moved into the area decades ago he had spoken with the Gladrags about how they came to start a business in Hogsmeade. He, too, wanted to expand into Hogsmeade, from his native Finland and then move onto countries such as France and Germany. Mister Gladrags had told him that they bought the house after the original owner's wife died in 1950, whose name happened to be Violetta. A bell had gone off in Hermione's head with the mention of that name and she had hurried home, only to find Harry gone. She pulled out the Black Family Tree she had drawn and found that Violetta Bulstrode had married Cygnus Black…one of the three sons of Phineas Nigeullus Black and Ursula Flint. Dorea Black was Cygnus and Violetta's youngest child and could've been living in the house while dating Charlus Potter.

But, why would Charlus Potter hide something in the basement of his in-laws house? Different scenarios flitted around in Herminoe's mind. Maybe this had something to do with James not being written down under their names. James and Lily had thrice defied Voldemort, just as Neville's parents had…and Neville's father wasn't written under the Callidora and Harfang Longbottom section of the Family Tree either. Dorea and Callidora were cousins, only five years apart. Maybe they had something planned?

Hermione rubbed her temples as a headache began to edge its way into her consciousness. There were just too many explanations. She needed to find out where Dorea and Charlus went. There was Godrics Hallow where Harry's parents had lived. Maybe his grandparents had lived there? Hermione wished Sirius was alive. He would be able to explain a lot of what was going on; such as where James' parents lived and what could've been so secret that it needed to be hidden in Dorea Black's house?

Sighing heavily, she tucked her notes back into her school bag and placed everything into one of the many drawers under the bookshelves. She could tell, from the way her mind ached, that she wasn't going to get much else done today. Pausing a moment, making sure she didn't hear Harry anywhere in the house, she pulled out a piece of parchment in her Transfiguration text book. She knew Harry would never pull that book off the shelf to read it, so her list of people to invite to his surprise party was safe inside there. Carefully, she unfolded it and glanced down the list, seeing if she had missed anyone.

Molly and Arthur Weasley

Fred and Katie Weasley

George Weasley

Lavender Brown

Charlie Weasley

Bill and Fleur Weasley

Remus and Tonks Lupin

Neville

Luna

Dean

Seamus and Hannah

Angelina Johnson

My parents

Christie Bell and boyfriend (Kevin? Calvin?)

Padma and Parvati Patil and boyfriends

Professor McGonagall?

Hagrid? (will he fit?)

She couldn't think of anyone else to add to the list. She had already quizzed the Weasley's and they had told her that they couldn't think of anyone else. Her party was under the guise of dinner. She planned on taking him out, then having Lavender owl her that she caught Crookshanks outside and he was acting strangely. Knowing Harry, he would apparate back with her, to make sure her cat wasn't hurt, and would follow her inside…and into his own surprise party. Music, food, decorations, impromptu games…all the ideas swirled around Hermione as she planned Harry's party.

He wasn't much of a dancer but, many of the guests were. Bill was helping her locate music that could be played. She made Fred and George promise to not do anything elaborate and dangerous with the decorations. Lavender was having great fun, with Katie, planning the kinds of food and snacks to be served. Hermione had asked Hannah Abbott-Finnegan to make a white cake with a broomstick on it for Harry. Now, all she needed was a gift for him, and right now that was the hardest part of his party. She needed to find something that he didn't have, that wasn't common and that was something he would absolutely love.

Hearing his pop with the slight crackle at the end, out on the porch thankfully, she quickly put her list away, taking note that she only had three weeks and three days until the 28th, when she had scheduled his party. She knew more people would be able to come on a weekend, then in the middle of the week when his real birthday happened to fall.

“Hermione?”

With a flick of her wand she sent the book back into the drawer and walked out into the hallway to see Harry hanging up his bag on a hook by the door.

“Hey,” Hermione smiled at him. “What've you been up to?”

“Just got out of a meeting, talking about the security of the wards and had to sign papers about confidentiality. If I tell anyone what magic lies within the wards, I disapparate immediately into the Ministry.”

“Nothing written on your forehead like other people we know?” Hermione joked, returning his quick kiss and following him into the kitchen.

“No, nothing like that. Though they wouldn't tell me what would happen once I was brought to the Ministry. They don't need to worry about anything though. My lips are sealed,” Harry made a zipping motion across his mouth then began rummaging through the cooling cabinet looking for lunch.

“Do you just want to heat up some leftover ham?” Hermione suggested, feeling her stomach begin rumbling. Agreeing, they began the process of warming up leftovers as Hermione told him about the new information she had found at “Dot and Cross”.

“This sounds way too complicated,” Harry mumbled between mouthfuls of salad. Swallowing, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and continued. “So, what we DO know is my grandfather had my mother hide something in the wall?”

“Well,” Hermione paused, her fork resting on her plate, “it could've been him that did it. Or something of the Potter family that Dorea, or her parents, hid in there. We don't know for sure if it's the hidden item or the magic sealing it there that has the Potter signature. It could've been Phinneas himself since it was his house. Then, we'd be talking dark magic to conceal the Potter item.”

There was a moment of silence, interrupted by Hermione pounding her palms on the table excitedly. “We could go ask Phinneas! We could see if he's in the portrait at Grimmauld or Hogwarts and just ask him!”

“True,” Harry sighed looking thoughtfully out the window. “We could go ask him but maybe we should try to get in first. That way, we'll be armed with even more knowledge in case he does know something. I have a feeling that he won't just come right out and tell me…if he even did hide something. I guess what we need to focus on right now is trying to break the spell, if it's dark magic. Obviously it's something I need to do and if it is dark, maybe it needs blood from me…like that cave Dumbledore took me into sixth year.”

Hermione shuddered but her brown eyes lit up at his words.

“Not that I want you to go cut yourself or anything, but it wouldn't hurt---to much anyway—if you tried.” A rare moment of agreeability for Hermione and she smiled at the surprise that flitted across Harry's features. Quickly, he nodded in agreement as they both fell silent while finishing up their lunch. Harry was processing the danger that could await him if he tried such a tactic, but he trusted Bill and Bill didn't seem to think that the spell was hurtful in anyway.

`Only the part where I need to cut my own hand,' Harry thought grimly to himself. He looked up to see Hermione watching him carefully and knew what she was thinking.

“You stay up here while I go try,” Harry finally said as he whisked his plate to the sink.

“Harry, I-,” she protested but he held up his hand, looking right at her.

“I don't want you to get hurt if something happens. Just…stay up here, please?”

“Nothing is going to hurt me, Harry,” Hermione told him, her plate following his.

“I'm not going to do it unless you promise me that you'll stay up here. You can stand in the hall and listen, but don't come down with me…please.”

Hermione could see that Harry wasn't going to budge, so biting on her lip to keep the next plea from falling out her mouth she nodded, seeing a relieved smile cross his face. She couldn't help the way her heart flipped when she saw him smile at her like that.

“Go, do it now before the suspense kills me.” Hermione stood up and tugged on his arm, pulling him up out of the kitchen chair.

“Fine, fine,” Harry threw down his napkin, leaned in and kissed her, letting his lips linger lightly until he felt her take a step forward resting her hands on his hips.

“I'll be right back,” he pulled back and grinned at the look of bewilderment on her face.

“You'd better be. You can't just kiss me like that then walk away without finishing what you started,” Hermione told him sternly, her eyes glinting with mischief. Harry just grinned at her and ran down the stairs, pulling out his wand in the process.

It was cool down in the basement and very quiet. The marks that Hermione had placed on the stone were still glowing brightly, adding a bit of extra light to the dim room. Splaying his fingers, Harry placed his hand upon the stone and felt the tingling of a magic, cast so long ago, flow through his arm. He wondered if this was what Dumbledore felt when he was looking for ways to get through the wall in the cave years ago. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his hand away and thought of the modified Sectumsempra he had been able to devise. It was enough to leave a small cut, which he knew either him or Hermione could heal quickly. Pointing the wand at his left hand he nonverbally said the spell and flinched as a cut suddenly opened on the palm of his hand. Quickly he pressed his hand against the wall and held it there for a moment.

Slowly, the stone began to shift and he jerked his hand away watching, in amazement, as the grayness seemed to swirl in upon itself like a spiral. Around the edges of the circle he could see a sliver of light that became brighter until he had to squint his eyes. Stepping back, his left hand clenched and his right hand pointing his wand at the wall, he watched in awe as the stone seemed to melt away in a spiral of gray and black swirls.

Then nothing moved. But there, in the wall sat a gold container with a stopper on top. It was long and cylindrical, about six inches high and had some kind of inscription on it that flowed around the cylinder in graceful curves.

“Hermione, you may want to come see this,” Harry called his voice sounding odd to his ears. He heard her run down the stairs then stop and stare at the now open spot in the wall.

“Oh my…your blood did that?” she asked walking closer, but sure not to touch anything around it.

“Yeah, it sure did. So you were right, it was dark magic that hid it there.” Harry moved closer and felt her grab his hand and examine the cut. With a flick of her wand the cut healed and nothing was left to remind him of what he had done to himself.

“Do you think you should reach out and take it?” Hermione looked at it, trying to make sense of the symbols and lettering that flowed across it. But it sat recessed in the wall, almost seemingly on the outer edge so she couldn't see it very well. Whatever magical light was inside also glared off the gold, causing her to squint as she stared at it.

“I think maybe Bill should look at it first,” Harry said wisely, holding her hand and peering at the cylinder inside his wall

“Good idea. He's probably at work so why don't we go up and send him an owl? Directly to work, we don't want to worry Fleur.”

“Good idea,” Harry echoed and allowed himself to be lead up the stairs. He was too nervous to write so he paced the library while Hermione wrote a quick note to Bill and let Hedwig fly out the kitchen window, interrupting her snack, to deliver the note.

“Relax, Harry. Nothing zapped you or threw you back. If that item has Potter magic, it can't be all bad.” Hermione grabbed his hand and forced him down on the sofa. Crawling behind him, she raised herself up on her knees and began massaging the tight muscles under his shirt.

“Hopefully. Unless someone made it seem like a Potter signature,” Harry added, dropping his head and letting a little moan of happiness escape. Her hands felt so good moving down his neck, over his shoulders and down his arms.

“Why would someone do that? I would think if that was the case, you wouldn't have felt the pull you did to this house.”

“We both know what's out there and what Voldemort could do. Granted, if Bill is right about the age of this spell it was right around the time Voldemort was born or even a bit before that.”

“I don't think it was Voldemort, do you? Why would HE be HERE after you vanquished him for good?” Hermione asked running her hands down his arms, reaching forward to take his hands and rub her thumbs over his palms. He shook his head indicating he actually agreed with her.

As he fell back against Hermione, Harry began to quickly put any thoughts of dark magic to the back of his mind. Her hands began trailing back up his bare forearms, then over his biceps, causing a flood of warmth to move through him. A moment later he felt the light touch of her lips against the back of his neck, reminding him of how long it had been since they had the time, or the energy, to bask in each others company. He shifted to his hip and turned around reaching for her. Their lips met fiercely; moving roughly over each others as they lost themselves in the moment. The noise of birds outside the open window, and the occasional meow from Crookshanks as he caught sight of one, was lost as Harry pulled her back with him against the sofa. He could feel her soft warmth enveloping him, all his senses and the desire that ran through his veins mingled with hers, creating an incredible feelings that he had never experienced before on such an emotional level.

He wanted her; he could feel his body telling him that and her hands caressing him on his chest helped that feeling move along. Their hips were already moving against each others, their hands slipping under clothing.

He needed her; that was something he always knew. Hermione grounded him, but this “need” was different. He had been thinking about her two week vacation and when he realized that he would be waking up and going to bed in an empty house, it created an ache in his chest that wouldn't go away until he saw her.

He loved her; which was something he knew he did on a friendship level. But, a little voice in his head, sounding so unlike Hermione and more like an older adult, told him that the mix of feelings he was having about her, the ache in his chest when thinking of not being with her and the fierceness to which he protected her was guiding him towards an undeniable, romantic, mature love.

Rational thoughts were thrown out the window when he felt Hermione push herself against him, pulling her name from his lips. Her eyes gazed down at him. Her lips parted as she stared at him and he wondered if she was thinking the same, animalistic thoughts he was.

“Upstairs?” she whispered, and Harry couldn't help but smile a bit and nod. Before she could even pull away, he reached up and cupped her face, simultaneously disapparating them off the sofa and into her bed.

“Damn,” Hermione whispered looking around her room, then back at Harry as they now lay on top of Hermione's bedcovers. “You know how to impress a girl,” she teased, letting her hands slide up under his shirt as he slowly moved on top of her, waiting to see her reaction. He still couldn't believe that she was here with him and he began to let himself think that maybe she felt the same, deep, nerve-wracking, although incredible, feelings he was.

“I don't think I have ever tried to impress a girl,” Harry finally answered, pressing a kiss against the smooth skin at the base of her neck, feeling the quick beat of her pulse under his lips.

“No need to,” Hermione whispered in return, tangling her hand in his longish hair, pressing his lips against her neck. Answering her motion, he sucked gently at a spot near her collarbone taking pleasure upon hearing her breathing speed up and feeling her hands tug at his shirt. He heard himself internally pray that Hedwig would take her time in coming back, and that Bill would show up after work, not on his lunch hour or something. Harry was fairly confident, from the way Hermione was moving beneath him, that they were going to have an incredible, passionate afternoon.

He had no idea how long they twisted and moved on Hermione's bed. Or, how long it took for the shirts and the shorts to be tossed over the side. But, Harry suddenly felt he was ready to cross over the line that neither one of them wanted to admit existed. He was cradling her in his arms, struggling to not just push her down and tear off her knickers, but instead make slow, gentle sweeps of her mouth with his tongue enjoying her response back to him. He really enjoyed the way she ran her nails down his back, causing him to shiver. It was during her journey down his spine that she pulled away from his kiss letting their lips cling to each other until the last possible moment. He knew what she was going to say before she lifted up a shaky hand and brushed his hair away from his face, his glasses long since discarded.

“Harry-,” he heard her say, shocked to hear a slight tremor in her voice. Was she scared of what was going to happen next? He didn't trust himself to speak so he raised his eyebrows, encouraging her to go on. His hands rested on the middle of her back, having successfully unhooked her bra minutes before. He was still relishing in the way she felt pressed up against him, and at the same time fighting for control of his own hormones, not wanting to push her away by doing something she didn't want.

“I-,” she started, then faltered looking almost embarrassed as she shifted her eyes away from his. Leaning in closer and kissing her forehead Harry realized, for once, Hermione couldn't find the right words to tell him what she wanted.

“Just tell me when to stop and I will,” he heard himself whisper, surprising himself with that thought. He felt the tension release out of her body as she nodded, her mouth searching for his, desperately hanging onto him as they deepened the kiss, both of them shifting so he was pressing her down into her mattress. Together, slowly (and so painstakingly Harry thought) they pulled on the elastic of their undergarments, sliding it down their legs and kicking them off.

A moment of hesitancy, even through the pounding haze of their hearts and their desire he could feel her pause and wonder if this was what they both truly wanted.

“Want me to stop?” Harry asked haltingly, hoping she didn't. He respected her so much, that he would stop if she gave him one single nod.

“No,” she whispered on the heels of his question, wrapping one arm around him then reaching towards the bedside table with her free hand.

“Let me,” Harry whispered, feeling his heart swell at the thought of what was about to happen. She nodded and he placed his hand on her abdomen, feeling the spell he was taught in seventh year, but knew since fifth when girls became interesting, flow out of his mind then down his arm and into Hermione. His heart was racing as he inched his hand lower, letting his fingers wander over her moist warmth then sliding down the inside of her thigh, trying to hone in on his control so it wasn't all over in sixty seconds.

“Harry…now,” she breathed, clutching his arms and pulling him closer. He realized this wasn't just making out anymore and what they were about to do was serious and would permanently change the delicate balance of their friendship. As he arched his neck back, feeling the moist heat of her lips at the base of his throat he absorbed everything about that moment. How she felt perfect under him; that somehow she was the one who filled the void inside that had always nagged at the corner of his thoughts--ever since Sirius had died. He moved his body up and across hers, feeling every part of her against him; gasping at the sudden warmth that enticed him from between her legs. With one swift movement she moved up against him, pulling him into her without any hesitation. He couldn't believe the pulsing heat was Hermione and a pleasureable groan rumbled in his chest. Harry could feel everything around him melt away; feeling and hearing only her. The tension in his abdomen and groin grew with each movement she made towards him. He was going to explode if he didn't slow her down. He didn't want it to be over so soon so he gripped the pillow next to her, as her legs came up and wrapped around him, letting him push deeper. He became aware of her whispering something in his ear and he forced himself to pull his cheek away from the side of her head and look down at her.

Her eyes were almost black, her face flushed, her hair was flowing in every direction around her head reminding him how beautiful she was.

“What?” Harry gasped, resting his forehead on hers, forcing the rocking of his hips to slow down.

“Let go…of your control…just…let go,” she panted, closing her eyes as she pushed down against him. Harry trusted Hermione more than anyone, and was fairly certain if he let all his control go he wasn't going to hurt her. But, he still didn't know what would happen if he did let it go. Ginny had never asked such a thing. He had known, somewhere, deep down, that he always maintained a sense of control. He wasn't exactly sure what would happen if he didn't. Being older and more mature, his magic was the one thing he could direct in his life. He was quickly understanding how much magic to hold onto and to let go until Hermione had brought out the kind of magic he never knew he had; true love for another human and once he had identified that “force” she had talked about weeks ago he pulled it in, not wanting to scare her into leaving him.

“Please,” she gasped, as he started rocking against her again. As she tightened her legs around his back he lost all boundaries of where he and Hermione began. He wrapped his arms around her back, bringing him closer, meeting her lips. He began to relax into her softness, feeling a small curl of magic flow out of him and into Hermione. They moved faster against each other, the friction of her skin against his, electrifying his movements. He heard her gasping and murmuring his name against his ear; their lips forming each others names. Her legs suddenly unwrapped from his and she shoved her hips against his, hard, demanding him to answer her.

Energy poured out of him, consuming Hermione and she begged him to hold her tighter; needing him. Harry's arms tightened and his mouth kissed that spot behind her ear that he knew made her shiver.

Faster they moved, hips crashing and grinding and she felt a sense of sudden weightlessness come over her. She grabbed onto his back, hanging on, calling out his name as she grew numb everywhere but where they were joined.

Just him. Just Harry…he filled her every pore, pushing her towards a spectrum of lights so beautiful she cried out his name, hearing him echo hers back to her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, hearing him say her name over and over, awakening every cell, ever fiber in her body until she thought her body would fall away from her soul. Never had she felt such want, such love for another person. She buried her head in his shoulder, scared and violently amazed as the feeling of being one with him overtook her mind. She could feel one hand splayed against her upper back, the other caressing her chest, her hips, pulling her leg tighter against him. Ever part of him that touched her skin burned with a desire she could never describe with words. Lights swarmed around her and she flew dizzyingly towards the ground. The tight, aching knot that Harry instilled inside her was slipping and she arched into him pulsing, trembling all around him. She felt him shift, his arms creating support behind her, his hands cradling her head and she forced herself to open her eyes and look to see if the colors were just in her head.

Green eyes met hers, and for one brief second she saw his magic, the flashes of white and gold that swirled around him. Beautiful sounds rolled off the colors and filled her head with its melody. Her eyes widened at the thought of hearing colors and a moment, before their eyes fluttered shut, she swore she felt him inside her head; swore she heard and felt the word “love”. His mouth captured hers before she could process anymore, filling her with a sweet hotness that he seemed to be pouring into her, down her chest to a place deep inside her body. Ribbons of ecstasy rose from her and swirled around them, mingling with the flowing, chime like sounds the beat through her head; mouths absorbed muffled cries and yells. She tore her lips from his, arching against him feeling no resistance behind her. She grabbed his shoulders, his back while whimpering his name over and over. Her hands slid to his elbows as he raised himself up on his hands and thrust into her at a slightly different angle. She heard his groan deep in his chest, the alter ego to her own crescendoing cries. Suddenly, unavoidably, they both froze as their hot sweaty bodies melded to each others. They both held onto their orgasms as long as possible and Hermione's mind leapt free past any pleasure she had ever known. Neither one really noticed the strange sounds surrounding his house, which ceased as Hermione felt the bed under her once more. She felt the boneless weight of Harry on top of her, their chests heaving against each others as they struggled for air.

She wanted to say something; to describe what she felt. Millions of thoughts that had been pushed from her mind came racing back as she slowly regained her mental faculties.

`That was the most amazing sex ever in the history of the world.'

`Did I just hear colors? Did I just hear his magic?'

`Did he say he loved me?'

`Wait, did I imagine I heard a crash?'

That last thought was enough for her to open her eyes, seeing Harry's dark hair against her cheek. Weakly, she reached up and touched the back of his head. He didn't raise it, instead she heard him hum in his throat as if asking her what she was doing. Turning her head slightly away from Harry she took sight of her dresser and let out a small laugh.

This time she caught Harry's attention and he shifted, moving only his hips, and slid out of her. Hermione gave a small hum of disappointment.

“What's so funny?” Harry asked thickly, his gaze sweeping over her face. Ever so gently, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair back from her eyes.

“I just noticed that everything fell off my dresser. Reparo charms galore, I think,” she whispered watching his eyes shift from her face to a point over her shoulder.

“Even though it's blurry, I can see what you mean. Your desk is the same way; I'm sorry,” he started, but she placed a finger against his lips.

“That was the most amazing experience, Harry. Don't you ever be sorry.”

She saw the familiar boyish grin come to his face as she said the word “amazing.”

“Really?”

Hermione smiled shyly and nodded, taking his hand which was resting on her hip.

“It felt like we were weightless for a time…I saw and heard colors; your magic maybe.”

To this, Harry's eyes widened as he stared at her.

“I think maybe we were weightless for a bit because I felt the same thing…there was nothing under you for a minute but I thought maybe it was just me…ummm,” he suddenly looked away from her eyes at her neck, “getting lost in you.” He felt her squeeze his hand and he forced himself to look up at her, his heart swelling at the sight of her, the feel of her in his arms. “That was just bloody brilliant, Hermione.”

She gave a small smile, raised his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss against his knuckles.

“I didn't do much; I certainly enjoyed the moment. But, do you really think you levitated us? I've never heard of that happening.”

“Me neither. I guess that's what happens when I let go of all control,” he whispered pointedly. Hermione heard the undertones of his statement. That levitation (if that was indeed what they experienced for a brief moment) had never happened before; he had never experienced that with Ginny. Smiling almost secretly, as she ran a finger down his cheek, she felt almost relieved that she had done something with Harry, something so intimate, and was the first one to do so. Levitation while having sex? Who would've have guessed? That happening, made this moment all the more special in her mind.

“That was the most…brilliant moment, ever. And…,” he paused and swallowed, making Hermione wonder if she did something wrong. `Oh, no,' kept running through her mind as she looked straight into his eyes. “…and you do way more than you give yourself credit for,” Harry told her, his heart pounding so hard, even Hermione could feel it across the small space separating them.

“What do you mean?” Hermione whispered feeling nervous and jittery all of a sudden.

He opened his mouth, but all she heard was a loud hoot. Shocked, she stared at him. Then, throwing back her head, she dissolved into laughter as Hedwig came and settled herself down on her messy dresser.

“Bloody owl,” Harry grumbled, turning over and stretching out his hand towards Hedwig. Hermione smiled as she caught sight of the full Harry and sighed as she realized him, in all his nakedness, was probably the most beautiful sight in the world.

“Bill's coming over in an hour. We should probably get up and inspect the rest of the house,” Harry turned back towards her, seeing her arms tucked over her breasts, with her hands under her head like a pillow (which were now on the floor). “You made quite a mess, I believe.”

Hermione grinned and playfully slapped his arm hearing him murmur something about domestic violence.

“Takes two to make THIS kind of mess, Harry.”

She watched him crumple the letter and toss it towards her overturned trashcan, then watched him bend down and kiss her. His lips were soft and promising against her own and she couldn't wait to see where things went from here.

----

Ginny stood next to Draco and stared at the family tree spread out over what was his father's desk at Malfoy Manor.

“I remember some of this from…well, I've seen this before.” Ginny caught herself, not wanting to reveal Grimmauld place even in the afterlife. “Except, I never looked at it this closely. You'd think, since it seems you and Harry are kind of cousins, you'd get on.”

Draco snorted as he walked around to the other side and looked at it upside down. “Never. But, check this out. Remember how I said that the house Potter bought was Phineas Nigellus'?” His long pale finger pointed to the topmost name, then drew a line down to Dorea Black. He didn't need to say anything as Ginny's eyes widened in comprehension, as she saw, right there in black and white, a Potter marrying a Black. She wondered if she had been Slytherin like most of the Black's and wondered how they came to fall in love.

“Well, I guess those are Harry's grandparents. No wonder he feels a pull to that house. Combine that with the spot in the basement, there has to be something family oriented in that wall.”

“Lovegood didn't tell you anymore, did she?”

“She couldn't. Not even Bill, whose great at curse breaking, could find the key to reveal what was behind the wall. Makes me wonder if it's a dark magic; maybe something unwritten.”

“What would a Black want to hide in the wall that would draw a Potter to it?” Draco asked, his finger resting on his name: 1980-2001, which had been written in hours before by his mother, who only shed a few tears as she wrote the numbers down in her careful handwriting. She had left when they heard the tell tale “whoosh” of someone flooing Malfoy Manor.

Ginny was quiet for a moment, mulling everything over. Leaning down, to get a closer look at the names, she let her eyes wander over the parchment, totally surprised at the number of last names she recognized from her years at school.

“Possibly something a Black stole from a Potter?”

“Maybe,” a low voice came from near her ear. Her eyes shot up and saw him crouched down, seemingly resting his chin on his crossed arms, which were placed on the desk. “Makes the most sense so far. But, there isn't much you can do, especially if you get pushed away every time you tried to go through that section. You didn't feel any pull towards that part of the wall did you?” he asked seriously.

Ginny met his eyes and slowly shook her head. “Why would I?” She watched his eyes and finger dart to the left most part of the parchment.

“Ignatius Prewett…wasn't that your mother's maiden name? You'd be related, just as much as me, to the Potter's.”

“No, I didn't feel anything. It was meant for a Potter; for Harry. That much I know. I can feel it.” Ginny pushed herself away from the table as Narcissa came walking back into the study and reached for the parchment. Instead of rolling it up, she took out a quill and, with a hand that was visibly shaky, began writing something next to Draco's name.

“What in the hell is she doing?” Draco asked, coming to Ginny's side so he could get a better look. A moment later, Narcissa stepped back and Ginny's eyes went to the red quill which she recognized as a non-permanent inking quill.

“Fuck,” she heard Draco whisper and she looked down where the quill had been moments before.

Draco Malfoy===Pansy Parkinson

1980-2001~~~~~~ 1980-

:

Twins due late Dec. 2001

“You're going to be a father,” a surprised whisper fell from Ginny's lips. However, Draco didn't move. He was stock still, almost frozen in place, as he watched his mother cast a drying spell on the ink, then begin to roll it up.

“Draco…you okay?” Ginny asked, not sure why she was asking quietly. His shoulder twitched, the only indication he gave that he heard her. Tentatively, she reached out and touched his arm, feeling something flutter under her fingers as she rested her hand on his upper arm.

“Draco? Let's go somewhere else and think about this, okay?” she was thoroughly surprised to see him nod slightly then turn towards her. His face was unreadable, but a spark of something filled his grey eyes then faded away. She had no idea what she just saw but knew he must be conflicted in what he was supposed to be feeling. He had just found out he was going to be a father. Pansy was probably three months along and from the way Draco reacted he never knew she was pregnant.

“Come on,” she whispered and was surprised to feel his warm arm turn in her grasp as he followed her out of his mother's den and into the dusky twilight. Ginny had never known Draco to be at a loss for words and so readily do what she asked. She felt this was affecting him more than anyone would ever know and secretly, she hoped he would let her know just how much this hurt.

She wanted to help him.

-->

14. Kaleidoscope

Kaleidoscope

“Jet lag, Harry, is the worst,” Hermione's voice came loud and clear over her cell phone. She had left it with Harry before she flew to the States. Since her vacation was entirely Muggle, she wouldn't be able to floo or owl him during her two weeks abroad.

“I'm sorry. It's been three days and it isn't any better for you?”

“Not really. Once I get used to it, it'll be time to come home,” Hermione laughed softly over the long distance and Harry smiled, his heart feeling a bit lighter since he was talking to her for the first time that day.

“What have you done today?” Harry asked, laying back in his bed listening to Hermione describe her tour through New York City.

Five days had passed since Harry managed to open the first part of the mysterious “Wall Number One”. Five days passed since he and Hermione had amazing sex; something they hadn't done again, not for lack of trying but for commitments to their job and an impromptu babysitting night as Fleur and Bill went to visit her mother in the hospital. He and Hermione had managed to put the house back together before Bill had shown up, as the note said he would.

He had done test after test, calling upon his years of education and experience. After spending an hour in the basement, he told Harry that the magic which was keeping the cylinder solidly anchored to the ground was not dark magic, but indeed held traces of Potter magic. The item was definitely from the Potter family and Bill had quickly interpreted the symbols around the gold cylinder as “Potter” and “1820”. Bill had also said he saw another letter “P” on the front but the word wrapped around to the back and he couldn't get the cylinder to move, or even get a mirror behind it to see what the rest said.

“This cylinder is definitely NOT dark magic, Harry. It's something that was given to an ancestor of yours, and apparently, stolen and hidden here. I agree with Hermione, go talk to Phinneas and see what he says. Fred and George are out on a business trip for the next few days so Grimmauld is free. I bet you'll find your long lost ancestor, there, in the quiet,” Bill had told him. They had shook hands and walked outside together, chatting at the end of Harry's property. Bill had turned to leave, then quickly spun around calling out to Harry before he disappeared down the walkway to his house.

“I saw something interesting when I was at the bank. Narcissa Malfoy came in with that Parkinson girl. The one that Ron always made fun of, I believe?”

“Pansy. Yeah, I remember her,” Harry explained, wondering where this story was going. Hermione nodded, indicating Bill should continue.

“Well, I can't really tell you what they did transaction wise, but Pansy is pregnant. Now, why would she be with Narcissa, and not her own mother, if she was pregnant.”

“How far do you think she was?”

“Further than Fleur. She was showing…maybe three, four months?” Bill shrugged, then grinned.

“Just from what I saw, I think Draco's going to be a dad.”

Harry shuddered, Hermione sighed and Bill shook his head saying something about how hard it is with two parents raising a child. He bid them farewell and headed down into town for some supplies Fleur had asked him to get.

The next three days had Harry and Hermione chasing down Nigellus, who would only admit that the cylinder was something from the Potter family and it was he that hid it in the house he built.

“For the safety of the Black family”, was his reasoning, “at least when I was younger I thought it was a good reason to hide it. Now, that I'm more intelligent and worldly, I realize what I did really had no bearing on the future. That's all I will say about it.” He refused to talk anymore about what was inside, or how to get it out of the wall and instead just turned and left, going to his other portrait at Hogwarts.

Now, Monday morning brought a wake up call from Hermione on his first day of walking the grounds with Hagrid and McGonagall, doing some trials on renewing the wards.

“So, tomorrow, er… later today, we'll travel to Washington and then I finally get to go to the Library of Congress,” Hermione finished saying.

“Let me know how it goes,” Harry told her, stretching to his full length in his bed then relaxing hearing Hermione yawn in the background.

“You should get some sleep. It's only what…one in the morning there?”

“Yes. We're five hours behind England. Still not used to this though. I wish I apparated here, then I could've brought my Pepper-Up Potion.”

“Do you want me to send it via Owl to you? There has to be a central magical post there somewhere.”

“There is, but it's in Salem, Massachusetts. Thank you though. I'll manage. Really though, Harry…thanks for offering.”

“You're welcome.”

Harry paused for a moment, hearing her breathing on the other end. Raising himself up onto his elbow, he gripped the phone tighter, trying to summon up the courage to say what he really wanted to…but failed.

“I miss you, Hermione,” he said quietly, feeling her absence more and more every day.

“I miss you,” she responded simply and they both seemed to hold their breaths; the unsaid hanging between them. Hermione was the first to break the silence as she yawned once more.

“I better go. Big day tomorrow, well, today for you. Good luck with the renewing and I'll call you later.”

“Okay. Have fun and get some sleep,” Harry said then hung up, and flipped her phone shut. For a moment he stared at it, then placed it gently on his nightstand.

“I almost told her I loved her. Get a grip, Harry,” he said to himself, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. “You can't do that over the phone.”

Sighing heavily, he walked to the bathroom and took a long hot shower, dreading changing into the protective uniform issued to him. He turned his thoughts to the last few days with Hermione. After Bill had left they talked a bit about Draco and Pansy and the possibility of more Malfoys coming into the world. That line of conversation led to a discussion on children and for the first time in his life, he seriously thought about what it would be like as a father. He loved Will, and had a great time playing and visiting his godson, but he never thought seriously about what kind of father he would be. As Hermione chatted on about babies, describing her ideal family (if she had the choice, she would like one boy and one girl born about three years apart) he wondered what kind of father he would be. Strict? No, he couldn't see him being that strict, probably a bit too laid back because he really was clueless when it came to disciplining the correct, humane way. His Uncle hadn't been any help and all he had to fall back on was tales from Remus about his parents and observing Arthur Weasley. Sirius had helped in the sense that Harry got a taste of what it was like for someone to look out and protect you. `Over protective,' Harry thought while rinsing off his hair. `That would probably be me with my kids.'

The thought of his parents came back to him as he toweled off from his shower, wiped clear a spot on his mirror and looked at himself. He could see the resemblance to his father, more than his mother (not counting his inherited green eyes that stared silently back at him). He wondered if his children would get his color eyes; wondered if that was a blessing or an annoyance. Merlin knows how many times people commented on his eyes looking like his mother's. Reaching for his toothbrush, he pushed the thought of children out of his mind for a bit and concentrated on getting ready and slipping into the mindset of a hard day renewing the wards around Hogwarts.

As he got dressed, he paused by his calendar of the Chudley Canons and counted 11 days until Hermione came back. July 23 was circled in red. July 31st had a smiley face that Luna had drawn in there when she rearranged her room. He couldn't wait for Hermione to get home. The silence and the way Crookshanks just looked so lonely sleeping in the middle of her large bed, made Harry realize all the more how much he valued having Hermione in his life. He also could feel twinges of uncertainty with what was happening with her. He wasn't used to having her gone so long; him not knowing what she was doing. At least during the summers, when they were in school, she was with her parents or at The Weasley's and owled him weekly. Just living the past three days without her clued him into the fact of how protective he was of her. Voldemort wasn't so easily dismissed. The Death Eaters had seen to it that Harry lost, yet, two more people he loved and he was scared that something else would happen that he couldn't foresee. And having Hermione so far away unnerved him because he couldn't protect her that far away.

He just kept having to remind himself that she was a very smart, very able witch and that nothing bad was going to happen. The past year had been the most peaceful in decades, in the magical world anyway.

----

Ron watched as Harry walked the perimeter of the Herbology Greenhouses with Hagrid and McGonagall, intently listening on how to secure those wards even better than before.

Ron learned, just by observing, that every time someone tried to apparate to, or from the school, or some shady person tried to break through the wards, the wards diminished ever so slightly. Professor McGonagall explained that the length of the security of the wards depended on the power of the wizard performing the renewing. He or she held a lot of credence in how long the wards lasted. She told Harry that when Dumbledore first became headmaster of the school that the wards had just been renewed by the previous headmaster. However, because of his age and some weakness the wards needed to be renewed five years later; weekly routine tests had found weaknesses around the Quidditch Pitch.

“And they have held up until the last year. I tested them myself and found a few areas that needed to be strengthened, then thought that we should renew all of them while we were on summer break.”

“An' have a powerful wizard among us,” Hagrid had chimed in, clasping Harry roughly on the shoulder. He mumbled embarrassed thanks and turned to his McGonagall who asked if he understood everything that needed to be done.

“I understand. I don't have any questions right now,” Harry said, gazing up at the sky watching a few birds come in for a landing on the lake. After a few more minutes of being observed, as he strengthened a ward near Greenhouse 3, Harry said he was comfortable to try working on the Herbology area himself. He secured his protective glasses, looking like Muggle sunglasses to him, and began taking readings with his wand as his two former professors headed back to the castle.

As Ron settled into a passive, observer mode he wondered when he'd feel ready to reveal himself to Harry. He still had hesitancy and had learned to listen to his instincts, therefore he kept himself hidden.

After flitting about the castle, seeing where other ghosts had “staked out their territories” he had made his resting place in a nook by Gryffindor Tower, but found it was more fun to move about the dining hall. He couldn't wait until school began when he could go up behind a first year and just say “boo”. The thought made him smile and made him realize that he had made the right decision. He was talking to the other ghosts, hearing numerous stories about how they each died. He was able to pretty much go wherever he wanted and was still able to get updates on his sister through Nearly Headless Nick. He had heard that Draco was going to be a father and Ron realized that he would be able to see Draco's children go through Hogwarts; something Draco wouldn't be able to do if he chose to go to Echo.

Ron stayed behind a tree watching in amazement as Harry raised his hands, as if warding off an attacker, closed his eyes and concentrated on the ward in front of him. His wand was in a special holster on the side of his black pants. Ron never knew Harry could do such intense wandless magic. If the flicker of light coming off his hands was any indication of how powerful he was, then Dumbledore might be a tad less powerful than Harry---once Harry got older and learned more about the art of magic.

He didn't want to interrupt his friend's concentration and understood that now wasn't the right time to reveal himself.

Hermione was someone else he would like to see and the thought of what her first expression, or words would be, when he revealed himself to her, made him laugh quietly to himself. He could just hear “RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, YOU SCARED ME TO DEATH!” While slapping a hand across her heart, her brown eyes narrowed angrily at him. Maybe he would wait until they were both together. Surprise both of them at once. `Now, that would be fun,' Ron thought as he floated behind a thicket of bushes near Greenhouse 4.

After watching Harry for an hour, and being duly impressed, he turned and headed back towards the castle. He was on a mission to see if he could locate anymore secret passages that his older brothers may have missed.

Harry was amazed to feel how easily the magic he learned seem to roll out of him and into the wards. He could feel it drain him, just a bit, each time and knew that at the end of the day he was going to be one tired wizard. `Probably a good thing Hermione isn't around. I wouldn't have enough energy to even kiss her properly,' he thought to himself as he took a break for lunch. He never noticed two invisible figures standing near the steps where Harry was eating his packed lunch, and he never heard them as they appraised him.

“So, you think he and Granger…you know…,” Draco asked Ginny as they watched Harry lean back against the wall, eating some pretzels.

“Probably. Hell, if she saw him in that get-up she'd be crazy not to jump him right here,” Ginny said admiring the black uniform that Harry seemed to fill out quite nicely. Draco had found her watching Harry renew the wards, never knowing that Ron was nearby hiding behind a tree. She couldn't see him anyway. Even if that had been possible, she had been so engrossed in the wandless magic, and the black fitted top and pants Harry was wearing, that she had visibly jumped when Draco floated up next to her.

“Uniforms do that to you females?”

“If it's the right one on the right male, sure we stand back and admire,” Ginny told him glancing sideways at the form next to her.

“I'll keep that in mind.”

“You can't change clothes, Draco. That wouldn't work here,” Ginny reminded him, watching Harry appreciatively as he downed the last of his bottled water, then flipped his protective sunglasses down back onto his face.

“In Echo we sure can. It's just like this world…only…not,” he answered lightly, smirking as she spun around and stared at him.

“So,” she struggled to make her voice sound even, not filled with the relief and surprise/excitement that seemed to bubble up from somewhere inside her, “you made the decision to go?”

“I think I promised your brother I'd watch over you, or something to that affect. I can't really do that from here, or, anywhere else can I?” Draco floated back a bit as Harry finished his lunch and headed down the steps towards the outer boundary by the lake. Ginny didn't follow Harry, instead she just looked at Draco trying to figure him out.

“Do you feel that you are ready to move on then, now that you have made your decision and seen that your blood lines will live on?” she finally asked, after a moment of just staring at each other. Draco seemed to give her question some thought, then finally shook his head.

“I think, after I know those babies are okay and what sex they will be, I'll be ready. I'd like to see them, but I really just don't want to hang around here until December. They won't know me any better if I stay or go.”

“But, then you'd have the satisfaction of seeing them born…,” Ginny began absently reaching out and touching his hand. Her eyes widened as he intertwined his fingers with hers and looked right at her.

“Which might influence my decision to leave here,” he interrupted smoothly. “I want to stop being here in limbo. If you knew me, you know I can't just sit around waiting for things to happen. When I was bored at school I went out and caused trouble or found something to do, just to be entertained. I fear if I stay Light and saw them being born, I would want to hover and watch them. That's not fair to me when I have a chance to move out of here, to another kind of world…,” he took a step closer and lowered his voice as if people were listening. Ginny's eyes flicked around but they were alone, so she wasn't sure why he was so close and talking quietly. He continued his thought, “…like Echo where I can at least experience a different way of life. But, as I told your brother I need to watch out for you. I know my decision. And if I know Pansy she'll find out the sex of those babies in another month or so, then I have the feeling my job is done here. But, when will yours be?”

Ginny stared at him, not being able to comprehend that Draco just had a serious conversation about his future with her. Part of her was a bit angry that he knew when he was ready to leave, while she now was in limbo about when she felt she could leave. Draco's hand was squeezing hers. He was so close now, Ginny had to tilt her head up to look at him. His question swirled around in her head as she absorbed the warmth he was emanating towards her.

“When they tell each other “I love you”,” Ginny blurted out slightly jerking her head back, in surprise, at her sudden answer.

“Really? That's all?”

“I-I guess so,” Ginny stuttered and stunned she seemed to speak without thinking. “I have no idea where that answer came from. But, it seems to make sense.”

“How will you know if they have said it? Maybe they already have?”

“I don't know. Harry is a long time thinker on those feelings since he never experienced love as a child,” Ginny murmured, trying to ignore the feeling that she wanted Draco to kiss her again. He was standing so close, a very personal type of close that she hadn't experienced in over a year. She never tried feeling for another being, never wanted to as a person of Light, but Draco seemed to be breaking all the rules that she began to trust and believe in when she died last June.

“He'll say it, probably after she gets back from the States…what is that Muggle saying?” Draco mused looking over her head and Ginny answered quickly, glad to have something distract her from his nearness and the fact his hand was still attached to hers.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

“Yes, that one,” he looked down at her, openly watching her.

“What? Why do you keep staring at me?” she asked quietly.

“Why not?”

“Is it possible to ever get a straight answer out of you?” Ginny asked, her voice a bit stronger this time. She tried to tug her hand away, but he held fast and even pulled it towards him, effectively pulling her up against him. His legs pressed against hers and Ginny relished in the feeling of warmth and solidity against her.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Maybe it'll be easier for me to go to Echo myself. You can stay here and drive everyone crazy.”

“I don't think you'd want to go there without me,” he responded cockily, but so quietly Ginny could barely hear him.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she whispered back, wondering when their faces got so close. She stared up at him, their noses almost touching and vowed she wouldn't be the one to kiss him first. She was a Weasley, he was a Malfoy. They were supposed to hate each other.

A moment later, his lips were on hers reproducing the same humming feeling she felt the previous week. She felt almost as if she was being sucked into him, his warmth was overpowering and the more she felt, the more she wanted, like some kind of drug. His lips pressed harder against hers, daring her to respond. Thoughts of doing this with Harry and other previous boyfriends rushed through her head, helping her remember what it was like to be kissed. Although, being Light it was a totally different feeling…like she was almost solid, that he was almost flesh and almost solid bone beneath her hands but not quite there yet. Somewhere, something in her mind clicked and she parted her lips, introducing her tongue to his. At the moment she felt the inside of his mouth she heard voices behind her and they jumped away, guiltily as if they were sixth years being caught in a broom closet.

It was just Hagrid talking to McGonagall about checking up on Harry and they brushed by the pair as if they weren't there.

“I…I have to go,” Ginny whispered, turned and headed towards the castle, while Draco stared after her for a moment. Then he too turned and headed towards Hogsmeade…in the opposite direction of Ginny.

----

As Harry walked into his house, a bit slower and a bit more tired than usual he could hear Hermione's cell phone ringing; an odd sound in a magical house. Even though Harry was brought up amongst Muggle's for ten years, he hadn't been around telephones that much in the past four years. He accio'd the phone, forgetting where he left it and flipped it open.

“Hey, Hermione,” he said a bit breathlessly. He had just finished picking up groceries at the store in Hogsmeade and had been hurrying up the walk; later than usual to feed Crookshanks and Hedwig.

“Were you running to the phone?” Hermione laughed softly at the other end. Harry tucked the phone between his shoulder and chin and set down the bag he had been carrying.

“No, just got in actually. I had my first day at renewing the wards then went to the store. How was your day?” Harry glanced at the clock and saw it was almost seven; that meant it was early afternoon where Hermione was.

“Tell me about yours first!”

Harry launched into detail about how it felt (draining) to renew the wards, how physically exhausting it was but how it was nice to be able to learn something new.

“I actually took Hagrid's advice and began working out. I went to some Muggle gym with Charlie, who's still visiting, on Sunday…and let me tell you how hard that was.”

“Harry James, you lifted weights?” Hermione broke into a fit of laughter, causing Harry to join her.

“Yeah, and let me tell you I'll probably need it by the time I get away from the smaller areas, like the greenhouses. Once it's time to work around the castle…can't even imagine how tired I'll be then.”

Harry poured some food in to the cat's bowl and Crookshanks stopped his twisting around Harry's ankles and set to work on his dinner.

“When do you think you will be done?”

“Well, if I don't run into any problems, like spells I've never heard of or don't understand, I should be done next Thursday or so. You'll be back next Friday?”

“Or Thursday. I'm thinking of just apparating home. That flight was just way to long.”

“Well, if you do apparate home, come by and see me at Hogwarts,” Harry flipped the phone to his other ear and began making himself some soup.

“I will, maybe when you're eating lunch. I don't want to interrupt you.”

“You never interrupt me, Hermione. It will be a most pleasant diversion,” Harry said, grinning to himself as he said that.

“Pleasant? Hmmm…I could think of a very pleasant way to divert your attention,” Hermione told him with a teasing edge in her voice.

“Hermione Jane…just what are you suggesting? You're supposed to be the pure one!” Harry stirred his soup, not being able to help the grin that spread across his face.

“I'm full of surprises,” she responded and the laughter they shared made Harry miss her all the more, but cemented the fact that he was truly falling in love with her.

“You're in Washington now?”

“Yes. Took a swim at the hotel pool, going to see a show tonight then off to the Library of Congress tomorrow. We'll be here til next Sunday then dad wants to go to Baltimore. Something about some ship there he wants to see. Then, maybe down to Florida…I'm just along for the ride. They are crazy travelers. I can't believe I promised them I would go to the States with them if they ever went!”

“Well, only about 10 more days then you'll be home.” Harry said, and as he glanced at his calendar a light bulb went off in his head.

“Hey, will you be at the same hotel on Friday night or Saturday, in Washington?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered, the typical note of caution creeping into her voice. She told him the name then questioned why he asked.

“Well, I have something here to send you. I was going to wait until you got back, but I want to make sure you're there when it arrives.”

“By regular air mail? I'll be here Friday night and probably until ten or so, our time here, on Saturday.”

“Okay…I'll see if I can get it delivered between those hours.”

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

“I'm not telling, Hermione. You'll have to deal with the suspense of the surprise.”

“Is it a set of books?”

“I'm not telling you ANYTHING. Just, call me if you plan on going anywhere else.” Harry confirmed the name of the hotel and the address.

“Well, give me a hint then.”

“No. I like the fact that I know something and you don't,” Harry teased while stirring his soup as he cast a warming charm upon it.

“Now that doesn't happen very often,” Hermione teased right back.

“Just for that, I think I'll go eat my dinner now and hang up on you!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” she apologized half heartedly. “But, I…I really do miss you Harry. And if I knew it would be this much, I don't think I would've gone with my parents on vacation,” she finished in a rush. Harry could hear something akin to her taking a deep breath and holding it; like she couldn't believe she said those thoughts aloud.

He took a second to think of his reply as he stared down at his nice warm bowl of soup.

“You know what Hermione…if I knew how lonely it was going to be here without you, I would've suggested the same thing; that you stay here with me.”

“Well,” Hermione sighed, apparently relieved that Harry validated and understood her feelings. “Now we know.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed quietly, fully aware of the undertones of the last bit of their conversation. “Now we know.”

A moment later they said their goodbye's and hung up the phone, only to hear the telltale sign of someone flooing him. Charlie's voice resonated throughout the lower level.

“Hey Charlie,” Harry walked over the fireplace and knelt down.

“I ran into a girl today who says she knows you and would like to ask you a few questions, if you have time later tonight or tomorrow.”

“Really? Who is it and where did you meet her?” Harry asked racking his brain for someone that would be able to put him and Charlie Weasley together. Who hadn't he talked to from the female population from school in awhile?

“I met her at The Three Broomsticks during lunch today and her name is Pansy Parkinson.”

-->

15. An Unlikely Pair

An Unlikely Pair

Harry walked into The Three Broomsticks a few minutes before eight that night and immediately saw familiar red hair in the corner. Automatically his heart jumped a bit as he thought of Ron, then the rational side of his brain kicked in and told him it wasn't Ron…just Charlie.

And Pansy.

Charlie and Pansy.

The words felt like a very bad sour ball on his tongue, but he took a deep breath and kept repeating he was an adult, he could handle a simple question and answer session with a pregnant Slytherin, right?

Quickly, he turned and ordered a shot of firewhiskey from the bar before he made his way through the throng of witches and wizards who smiled and nodded at him.

“I drive you to drink, do I?” Pansy's smooth voice floated over to him as he made his way to the table, shot glass in hand.

“Depends on what you want to ask me,” Harry said cautiously, nodding at her and then shaking Charlie's hand, cocking an eyebrow at him as if asking, `What the fuck do you think you are doing with her?' Charlie lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug and together the two men sat down across from Pansy. Harry stole a glance at her and realized she looked quite a bit older than when he last saw her…graduation day three years ago.

“So,” Harry began, not quite sure where to begin. Pansy cleared her throat and as if by habit now, smoothed her hands down over the small swell under her plain red shirt. Her summer cloak hung on the back of her chair and her now long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She had lost some of the weight she seemed to carry constantly at Hogwarts and Harry realized, for the first time as she looked at him, that she had a unique shade of dark, almost eggplant purple eyes.

“What did you want to see me for? You aren't going to blame me for something are you?” he asked, not being able to help the note of contempt enter into his voice.

The rational side of Harry told him to reign it in a bit. Pansy had lost Draco a month ago and was pregnant; give her a break.

“No, believe it or not,” she shot back just as easily. “Maybe I should start with how we came to be sitting here.”

“Please,” Harry said and at this point downed the shot then let it hit the table with a solid thud. “How did you meet Charlie, first off.”

Pansy's eyes slid to Charlie who was now leaning back on two legs of his chair, his back resting in the corner where the two back walls met. He just raised his reddish blond eyebrows at her and she then looked at Harry who was patiently waiting, twirling his now empty shot glass between his fingers.

“I only met him about three hours ago. Literally, we ran into each other as we came around the corner from opposite directions. For a moment, I thought it was Ron and did that double take as we bent down to pick up our belongings. He must've seen what I was thinking and introduced himself, so I did the same. Quick apologies, we went on our way. Then, a half hour later I came in here for a drink and to meet with my parents. After they left, he came over and said it looked as if I could use a drink. I told him I couldn't drink because I was pregnant so he bought me a pumpkin juice, sat down and began to tell me that it might possibly be harder to raise a baby orphan dragon than a little human baby...even twins.”

“Interesting,” Harry said dryly and looked pointedly at Charlie.

“It's true. From what I hear anyway. Don't have any kids myself, and I wasn't around much when Will was younger,” Charlie defended himself, letting himself fall forward towards the table.

“Who's Will?” Pansy asked her eyes moving between the two.

“Will is my nephew; Bill and Fleur's son and also Harry's Godson,” Charlie answered casually.

“Ah. Okay,” she nodded as if filing that information away for the future. “Anyway,” Pansy continued, looking up as three glasses of water floated their way. Harry nodded to the bartender and took a sip. “We talked and talked. I told him about Draco being the father of my...the…twins and he said something about a friend helping you contact Ginny.”

“Well. I didn't contact her. Apparently she sought me out. But it wasn't like a séance or anything,” Harry explained carefully, wondering why Charlie told her this. It was beginning to dawn on usually clueless Harry that Charlie must find something interesting in Pansy…something Harry himself couldn't see. Most Weasley's, except Percy, were usually tight lipped when it came to himself. They had this notion to protect Harry Potter…so Harry looked at him carefully as Pansy continued on. He needed to make sure that Charlie wasn't imperioused or anything.

“I understand. I read up on that stuff; especially ever since Draco…took his life,” Pansy's voice caught but she plugged on, now staring down at her hands where a nice set of manicured nails were nervously twisting a ring around on her right hand. “But, I was wondering, if you think there is any way that Luna could try and contact Draco. If he wants to be. I just want him to know he's going to be a father…and to see if…just to let him know that,” she finished in a rush.

Harry watched her carefully wondering what he should say. He sure couldn't speak for Luna; but if he knew Luna, she would be more than happy to help and…who knows? Maybe this could be her new calling in life. So, he decided to just say what his instincts were telling him. He had never known Luna to get mad, so hopefully she wouldn't now, when her help was wanted.

“Well, Pansy…I don't know what to say. I can pass along the request to Luna and if you give me an address to contact you, I can have her get in touch with you directly. I can't answer for her,” Harry said trying to keep his voice gentle. He could see she was hurting, but didn't want to step on Luna's toes either. Charlie was still quiet; acting like himself so Harry pushed the thought of one of the three unforgivable curses might have been cast upon him.

“That'd be great. I'm at Malfoy Manor now…my parents were just being way to over protective seeing how the pure-blood blood line will now live on. Besides, I think with me staying at the Manor, it helps Narcissa deal with Draco's death a bit better.”

“Oh, well…okay. I'll probably talk to Luna sometime this week and pass along the information. Or, if you check the Herbology Shop in Diagon Alley she could be there with Neville. I think he owns half of it or something,” Harry offered, seeing the first smile come to her face that evening.

“Thanks. I might go there tomorrow then.”

“Do you want an escort?” Charlie asked casually and Harry bit the inside of his cheek from laughing out loud. But, Pansy took it in stride.

“If you have nothing better to do, feel free. They should be open by ten you think right?”

Harry nodded mutely, still not trusting himself to speak. `Arthur and Molly will have a fit if they knew Charlie was befriending Pansy. Oh, how I would loved to see that conversation!' was all that Harry could think at the moment, as he struggled not to laugh at the absurdity of Charlie…and Pansy.

“Fine, I'll go then…that way you aren't in the middle, Harry. I'll just say I heard through the grapevine what she can do.”

“Luna's very laid back. She won't mind if you say I told her you were there,” Harry told her after finishing his water. “I need to get home. I'm beat…anything else I can help you with?” he asked politely.

“No…umm…thanks,” she added with a note of awkwardness in her voice. Harry nodded and hurriedly stood up, anxious to get out of that atmosphere. A Weasley, a Parkinson and two Malfoy babies…it was all making his head roll. Maybe the world was coming to an end!

“Well, good luck…and…um, I'm sure Draco would be happy about the babies,” Harry added pushing in his chair. Pansy looked up at him, looking slightly happier.

“You think?”

“Yeah, you know Malfoy. He'd be happy; even just for the fact that he managed to make two at one time,” Harry gave a small grin as she actually laughed aloud.

“Yeah, you're right…he would've.”

On that note, Harry bid Charlie and Pansy good bye and practically ran to the door. He couldn't wait to tell Hermione what just transpired but it wasn't something he could tell her over the phone. This story had to be in person!

---

“Hey, Draco?” Ginny skirted around the edge of the main staircase as she caught site of Draco, staring down into the Slytherin dungeons.

He turned towards her keeping his face neutral. She had been avoiding him for the past day and a half, but after hearing what Luna had said to Neville, while perusing the Herbology store, she knew she needed to talk with Draco. She came to a stop a few arm lengths away from him and called his name again.

He turned towards her fully, so she was now face to face with him. He still wasn't saying anything and she got the vibe that he wasn't too pleased that she had just up and left him alone. In her mind that meant she might have to do some serious “sweet talking” to get him to talk to Luna.

“I was in Diagon Alley and heard Luna talking about you to Neville,” she began, then paused, watching him closely. He cocked an eyebrow.

“So?” he asked as if bored by the subject.

“Well, apparently Pansy contacted her because she wants to know if you know she's pregnant. I think it's a form of closure for Pansy.”

“Really? Well, how does she know that Luna can even talk to people that are dead? Did you tell Pansy somehow?”

“No,” Ginny said gently, “I didn't. From what I gathered, my brother Charlie ran into Pansy, literally. One conversation led to another and Pansy found out that I had talked with Luna. So, Pansy wanted to try and locate her and knew Harry might know, so she asked through my brother, if she could meet him. In a nutshell, she found Luna, but Luna said she would have to figure out a way to contact you.”

“So Luna sent you?”

“No, Draco,” Ginny sighed, the word `hardheaded' coming to mind as he made this conversation difficult for her. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I heard that she was trying to figure out if she should try and ask me…so I decided to just let you know and you can make the decision.” Ginny got the faint vibe that he was angry…which he had a right to be. These emotions that were coming back into play for her, after being void from so many of them for a year, were really making it hard for her to think clearly.

“I'm sure you still love Pansy and that it'll be hard to let her know-,” Ginny began, trying another tactic.

“No,” Draco said firmly, taking a step towards her. Confused, Ginny looked him questioningly.

“No…what?”

“I don't still love Pansy.” He threw the words back at her forcefully. So much so that Ginny took a small step back. “I don't believe I ever did.”

“But,” Ginny spluttered, “you and her…you-.”

“Yes, “me and her”,” Draco imitated, actually putting up his fingers and making quotes with them. Ginny could see she definitely hit a sore spot and wisely kept her mouth shut. “She was allowed to come see me. It was her birthday and well, that's all you really need to know. Obviously, I shouldn't have let her do the charm…it sounded correct to me when she said it.” He stopped suddenly as if he felt he said too much.

“Well,” Ginny quickly tried to organize her thoughts. Images of Draco and Pansy having sex began racing through her head and she quickly pushed them far, far away. “I think if you want to help Pansy with some closure, you could seek out Luna. And, obviously you're angry with me for just…running away the other day. I apologize, Draco. I just…everything took me by surprise and I didn't know what to do,” Ginny admitted, casting her eyes down to the stone floor. She could see the almost imperceptible slump of his shoulders. She took this to mean that he accepted her apology, but knowing the Malfoy in him he would never admit that he did.

“Alright, I'll talk or whatever to Luna. Is this something that I can just go…do? Or do you need to set this up?” Draco asked, changing the subject so Ginny figured that she must be forgiven for just ignoring him. Though, they weren't a couple (they couldn't be a true couple being Light ) why did the sense of guilt she had been carrying around on her shoulders, suddenly lift as he looked right at her?

“I'm pretty sure you could probably let her know your thoughts. It should be a private moment I guess, as much as it can be with Luna there. Luna and Neville's shop-,” Ginny began but Draco held up his hand.

“Just…show me where it is.”

Ginny nodded, surprised that he wanted her there. “Follow me,” she turned and led him outside the gates to the school grounds. Laying a hand on his arm, she apparated them into Diagon Alley.

-----

Harry stepped out of the shower at the end of his first week of renewing the wards. Every morning he had gotten up at six, gone to work-out with Charlie for an hour, showered at the Gym then went to Hogwarts where he changed into his uniform and worked until about five in the evening.

He had made so much headway the past week, that today he was able to leave before lunch, and rest over the weekend, only to start renewing the wards around the castle the following week. He had promised Hermione to not do anything with the cylinder in his basement until she came home. She thought that she might be able to find something on the magical item in a book at the Library of Congress. Harry agreed, knowing he wouldn't have time to do much else anyway.

It was Friday. One full week since Hermione had left (she had spent the night at her parents the previous Friday and left very early the next day for the States). Now, he was about to send his surprise to her. She had called him and left a message on her phone that she would be out to breakfast with her parents until ten or so that morning, then, because it was raining she was going to be making notes for her classes that would start again in a bit over a month. Her parents were going to walk in the rain around some of the monuments.

Harry stepped into a pair of lightweight khaki colored shorts and pulled on a shirt Hermione had given him last year for his birthday…a dark green Muggle style golf shirt. He looked through his bag and saw he had a change of clothes, just in case. He had carefully wrapped up a small vile of “Pepper Up Potion”, the latest Daily Prophet and the latest copy of “Transfiguration Monthly”. He charmed the last two to look like plain, Muggle notebooks in case she wanted to look at them outside of her hotel room.

He had borrowed an umbrella earlier that morning from Charlie, who had been given one by his father. It was still wrapped, never used. He had told him to keep it; at least Harry knew how to use the blasted thing, was what Charlie had said. Zipping up his bag, he glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly two the afternoon.

By the time he apparated to the International Floo Terminal and went through the process of getting permission to apparate into the States, it would be close to half past. So, he hurriedly dumped more water and food into Crookshanks bowl. He left some treats in the attic near the window she flew in and out of, locked up his house, slung his bag on his shoulder and disapparated straight out of his kitchen.

He found that being Harry Potter, and being recognized, came in handy when traveling. As more and more representatives of the Floo Authority began to recognize him, they expedited his money exchange to Muggle American Dollars. They moved him to the VIP line at the floo center where he would stumble out in New York. From there, he was already given permission to floo into a small store in Washington, DC that magical witches and wizards frequented. From the information he had received, with the help of Arthur who had done some research on where Hermione's hotel was located, Harry only needed to walk three blocks.

By three in the afternoon England time, and ten in the morning in the States, Harry was standing that the entrance to where the Granger's were staying. He already knew her room number, so that wasn't a problem. He needed to calm down his nerves. He didn't want to intrude on their vacation but he had the need, the urge…almost something primal that he HAD to see her. Thankfully, her parents were out for the moment so she was alone, at least until lunch. Taking a deep breath, he pulled down his umbrella and gave it a shake as he walked through the door to the hotel. He was able to locate the elevators and punched the “up” arrow. A few people fell in next to him, waiting for the one that would ding and light up, but, he managed to ignore them…and found it to be a sense of relief that no one recognized him. Dressed the way he was, with a rucksack slung over his shoulder he looked like any other Muggle out during the tourist season.

He stepped into the wood paneled and mirrored elevator and hit the number eleven. A quick ride later and a turn down a nicely carpeted hallway, Harry stopped outside room number 1142. He could hear the faint sounds of a television through the door. Nervously, he raised his hand and knocked, immediately hearing footsteps towards the door.

He knew she looked through the peephole because he heard a squeal and a moment later was holding Hermione in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder.

“Oh my God,” she murmured into his shoulder. “You're the surprise…I really thought you were going to send me some book or something. I thought you had to work!” She clung to him until Harry suggested maybe she invite him in so they weren't standing in the hallway.

“Right, sorry…it's just…I'm so glad you're here!” Hermione pulled him into her room and stared at him, her eyes shining.

“I wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do or not,” Harry admitted, but his doubting thoughts were immediately stopped when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for nice, thorough kiss.

“It was the perfect thing to do! Nothing is wrong I hope?” Hermione held his hand and led him to her bed where he sat down next to her, stretching out and enjoying how she settled down next to him, still holding his hand.

“No, nothing is wrong, though, I do have to tell you about who Charlie met earlier this week.” Harry turned towards her and found that she looked more tired than usual. He bent down and pulled up his bag, taking out the vile of potion he brought her. Silently he handed it over to her, not asking if she was still tired because he could see the faint circles under her eyes.

“Thank you Harry! This should last five days, perfect…thanks so much for remembering!” Hermione immediately placed five drops in her glass of water and drank it down, then turned back to him. “I'm so glad you're here…I've really missed you.”

Harry smiled and touched her face gently, keeping his eyes glued to hers. “Me too…,” he said quietly making the mistake of letting his eyes glide down to her mouth. Before he knew it she was straddling him, their hands pulling at each others clothes, mouths crashing together as they moved their heads to get rid of their shirts, his glasses…breathing.

Harry had no idea how she did it, but in less than ninety seconds she had them both naked and was pressing his hand to her stomach, not needing to tell him what charm she wanted him to do. Harry was slightly, but pleasantly, surprised at how forward Hermione was at the moment. He was still leaning back against the headboard, feeling Hermione's hands travel over his shoulders, down his arms and with a sense of wonder he let his hands travel over her body. He never knew how perfectly his hands fit on her hips or how soft her skin was on her thighs. After all the years of knowing her, receiving hugs and friendly kisses it flashed through his mind that Ron was the first one to discover that about her. He had never said anything about this part. He had told Harry two years ago that he wasn't sure how he could've ever lived with out sex; if only he had discovered it earlier. Harry briefly remembered Ron saying something about how Hermione was tentative, but very responsive. Harry was sure he must've been talking about a different Hermione Granger because this one had just pushed him back down the headboard a bit and was straddling him in just the right spot.

Lifting up his hips just a bit, he felt her mouth freeze on his and open up into a sigh as he slowly pushed into her, firmly holding onto to the little bit of his control that was left. After all, this was a Muggle hotel and he was certain neither of them had cast the silence or sticking charm upon the hotel room.

Hermione couldn't believe she was doing this. The way his eyes had slid down to her mouth, she had given into her hormones and couldn't stop herself. Something inside of her, deep within her primal self, was telling her to make him hers. She felt his hands grip her hips as she began rocking against him. Every sense of hers was heightened…the softness of the mattress under her knees; the slight scratchiness of his leg hairs against her just shaved legs; the taste of toothpaste that lingered in his mouth as his warm tongue moved in circles around hers. The way he just shifted his hips, hitting that hidden spot inside her.

Her body seemed to skip over every little sexual feeling and planted her right at the edge of her undoing. She could tell by the way his breathing had suddenly sped up that he was just as close as she was. Her chest, along with her stomach, rubbed against his and she could feel the flicker, the tightness, of every muscle in Harry's body. His shoulders were under her arms, her hands caught in his hair, as she moved her hips in rhythm to his…faster, trying to keep him pressed against that spot deep inside, but not being able to stop her movements to do so. She felt his hands slide up her back as she arched against him; his lips brushed the tops of her breasts drawing out a surprised gasp. His mouth was so warm and soft as it moved up her neck and she tilted it back, feeling a surge of pressure erupt from where she was joined with Harry. Her soft cries pushed Harry towards the edge. He buried his face in her chest, a little moan escaping him, vibrating through her chest and for a moment she could only hear her heart roaring in her ears and swore she felt a slightly different beat against hers; Harry's. All her strength sapped, she sagged against him, physically aware of the newer, harder muscles in Harry's chest and shoulders. Lightly she kissed his neck and heard him sigh her name, “'Mione”…and just the way he said it made her already pounding heart flutter just a little.

“You know what?” Hermione whispered, not moving off of him, ignoring the soreness in her knees.

“Hmmmm?” was the intelligent reply she heard, and felt throughout her body.

“That was the best part of my vacation so far,” she kissed his neck again, feeling his arms tighten around her, warming her now cooling back.

“I'm glad I was able to experience that with you,” Harry joked lightly, nuzzling her neck, causing Hermione to jerk involuntarily. “Ticklish,” he murmured, reluctantly letting his arms drop as she slowly removed herself from his lap and crawled under the covers.

“I am,” Hermione admitted, nestling up next to him. She wanted to apologize for her boldness and looked up at him, only to see him looking down at her, a dreamy smile touching his lips. He didn't mind, so she mentally threw out her apology. He bent down and kissed her softly, before the Hermione he knew took over. Placing her hands on his chest she pushed herself away slightly so she could look straight at him.

“So, before I rudely-,” she began and heard Harry let out a bark of laughter then felt him hug her harder, “…interrupted, what were you saying about Charlie?”

“Charlie?” Harry tried to grab all his thoughts--which pretty much had left him the moment Hermione began kissing him. “Oh…Charlie…well, he floo'd me the other day…,” he began and over the next ten minutes he told Hermione all about his meeting with Pansy. To his surprise, he felt Hermione nod at the end of the story.

“I think Pansy does need closure. Just like most women…I hope Luna can help her.”

“Yeah, Pansy did seem a bit…lost. Maybe Luna can or maybe she already has? I haven't heard anything from Charlie in a few days. Guess I'll have to find him when I get home.”

“When are you leaving?” Hermione pulled back and looked up at him. He turned and looked down at her and managed to catch himself before he said “never”. He knew he was a coward for not saying what he felt…he just hoped that the time would come and the words would fall out of his mouth without reservation. He hoped. Hermione saw him struggling with the right answer, so she smiled reassuringly.

“Well, why don't we get dressed and when my parents come back, I'll tell them you just stopped by…they'll invite you to spend the rest of the weekend here and…I'd really like it if you did.”

“Okay…twist my arm,” Harry grinned at her, and yanked his arm away as she reached for him to do just that.

----

Ginny hovered a few feet behind Draco, so she didn't hear the private conversation that Luna was relaying between Pansy and him. It was Friday night, the first that Luna had been able to get away from rearranging the shop with Neville. He was playing Chess with Seamus that evening, so Luna made the plan to meet Pansy and Draco near the Shrieking Shack at eight that night.

Draco had managed to contact Luna days earlier with the help of Ginny. Once Luna found Draco's spiritual signature, as she called it, she could now talk with him as freely as she did with Ginny. Floating over towards the shack a bit more, she looked up at the crazy, tilting structure remembering stories of friends and their boyfriends who had gone there for privacy.

She knew that Harry and Hermione had sex, probably within the past week, she thought to herself. She just knew…but, she still felt a tense ball in her chest; something that could only be released when they admitted their love, aloud. Hermione was always so careful with words; Harry so tentative in what he was feeling she wondered if it would truly happen in the next month.

She had no idea how long she had hung there, watching the shack tilt slowly one way, then the other She heard someone call her name and turned to see Draco moving towards her. The sky was darker now and the first stars were hanging in the sky, just like she was suspended over the ground.

“Did everything go alright?” Ginny asked, staying in her spot. Draco pulled up in front of her, shrugged and nodded.

“She cried a lot but seemed happy that I knew and that I wasn't mad this happened and all that. I just requested if one was a boy to not name him after me. With everything that had happened in my life, he wouldn't need the name Draco to go along with his life.”

“Did she say when she'd find out the sex?” Ginny questioned softly, watching him vacantly gaze at the tilting structure behind her.

“August first. She'll be sixteen weeks and magical tests can detect that early. Said she would tell Luna, who will try and find me I guess. Though,” he gave a small smile, “she told me when and where the test will take place if I want to be there.”

“Sounds like a good plan; something you can be involved in. I guess you won't need to hang out here much longer then, will you?”

“I guess not,” Draco answered, moving his eyes to hers. “Do we even know where or how to live in Echo?”

“I talked to Nick about it a few days ago. He said there are always houses available. You claim one that has a sign on it, then go about finding a job you would like and begin to set up your life as you would if you were alive. We don't get sick, we keep the house and items within as long as they function. Replace them when needed. When you want a child you go to one of the healers—there are healers because there are accidents and births--and get some spell put on you, well, the woman, so they can accept one of the little souls that are floating around.”

“Those little lights?” Draco questioned actually interested in something besides himself for once. Ginny nodded and pushed on, glad he was paying attention.

“Ummm…what else…oh, we'll age just like we would here. There are potions we take to naturally age us, if we so wish. It's strongly suggested. Apparently a few haven't and have gone mad and had to be put in a hospital. They lived too long, apparently. Nick said only a select few make it and that right now there are probably about five thousand people there, ranging in age from babies to someone who is eighty…not counting the ten people who are hundreds of years old locked up somewhere. So…that about sums it up. We are given a guide when we first arrive to show us around the area…like a very large town I hear. Oh, and they are the ones who invented the Room of Requirement…the only way they can take vacations really.”

“At least dead people are good for something,” Draco said with a small smile. Ginny smiled back.

“It'll be an interesting trip,” she turned quickly as a snap from the house behind her caught her attention.

“It already has,” Draco said candidly, watching the house with her for a few more minutes. Then, turning together, they left for the castle for a poker game where bets were being placed on Ginny to win, hands down.

-->

16. Revelations

Revelations

Harry awoke, unsure of where he was for the moment. It was darker than normal and the bed was different, especially with someone curled up against his side. He heard a far off echo of a door closing and realized he was in Hermione's hotel room. He had crashed when they had finally came back around ten that night…his body was telling him it was three in the morning and he figured he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Now, as he glanced at the clock, it was almost seven in the morning. No wonder Hermione was tired…five hours time difference could really screw with you.

Slowly, he extracted his arm from under her head and quietly picked his way to the bathroom without managing to ram any toes into the wall. When he climbed back into the warm bed, she had turned onto her side, still breathing deeply. Knowing he wasn't going to fall back asleep he stared at the dark shadows on the ceiling, thinking about the cylinder in his basement. He was still trying to come up with a way to get it out of the niche.

He and Hermione had yelled at it, cursed in its general direction; each had tried to touch it, only to hit an invisible barrier. Charlie had even taken a look and was as clueless as Harry was. Bill said there might be some old magic in one of his books, but he would really have to dig for it…Hermione's advice was to try Nigellus again. So, Harry heeded her advice while he was renewing the wards and found Nigellus in the Headmistresses office. However, Nigellus refused to speak to him, agitating Harry. He had even appealed to Dumbledore's portrait. But, all that Dumbledore had to offer was just `be patient and the answer would come'. Harry had sighed and turned away a bit angrily. He wasn't sure what made him more mad…being ignored by the very person who knew what it contained or being told to be patient like he was twelve.

He decided to turn his thoughts to the past day he had spent with the Grangers. Once they had gotten over their initial shock of seeing Harry, they had welcomed him warmly. Hermione made no secrets about what kind of relationship was going on between her and Harry now. They held hands while walking through the inside of museums; they posed for pictures with the goofy grins on their faces for her parents. He could see, at first, her parents weren't sure what to make of it, until finally her father asked if they were exclusively seeing each other. After each of them had said “yes” in unison, Harry swore he saw her mother wipe a tear away. He guessed she was happy that Hermione had finally found someone…and Harry was very happy it was him.

“Harry?”

Harry jerked a bit, being startled out of his thoughts. He thought Hermione was still asleep; she hadn't moved from her position on the bed, where her back was to him.

“Yeah?” he slid down onto his side and propped up his head with his arm, draping the other one over her waist. She shifted a bit until she was snug against him, yawning then stretching.

“I was just making sure you were still there…you were awfully quiet.”

“I was just thinking…I thought you were still sleeping.” He felt her take his hand and pull it towards her chest, tucking it under her chin.

“I'm awake now. Are you leaving today?”

“Probably. I had promised I'd go to Molly and Arthur's for dinner tonight and also promised Fred and George a game of Quidditch Sunday morning. Why?”

Hermione shook her head, then turned onto her back, letting go of his hand and staring up at him. He had his glasses on so he could clearly see her watching him in the dim light.

“I wonder if it would hurt my parent's feelings to much if I left, with you, a week early,” she finally said, gathering her hair which had spread all over the pillow and tucking it down and over one shoulder.

“That's something you'll have to ask them…but why do you want to come back? I thought you were going to Baltimore tomorrow, then leaving for Florida on Monday?”

“I know,” Hermione sighed. “I just…I don't really have any desire to go there…and…now that I've seen you it'll be harder to not see you. Does that make any sense?”

Harry nodded, slightly amazed that her thoughts were identical to his. He knew it was going to be hard to leave her after lunch, he just didn't know how hard until he remembered she was to have another week here, in the States.

Hermione excused herself and headed towards the bathroom and Harry was left alone with his thoughts for a moment. He remembered the few times Ginny had to go on business trips…trying to find certain deals on dragon hides or shimmering cloths. She loved going with Lavender and would often be gone over a weekend. Harry never really missed her to the point where he thought about her all the time. It was nice seeing her when she came back, but they would fall into the same old routine. However, from the moment Hermione had left, Harry felt alone that night…and that first night she was only at her parents; still in England. He heard Hermione open the bathroom door and watched her walk to the bed, perching on the end next to him. Sitting up, Harry moved over giving her some room. He noticed she was looking away from him, down at her hands which meant she was hesitant in asking something.

“What is it?” Harry asked gently. She fiddled with the hem of her nightgown before answering.

“I'm going to tell my parents I'm coming back. I'm almost twenty two, I shouldn't need to ask their permission…but since I did promise to come with them I should talk to them about it.”

“I understand that,” Harry said slowly. “But, why are you so hesitant in event talking about it?”

“I don't want to intrude on any of your…time,” Hermione answered. Harry finally understood that she thought he must be having a grand time by himself, when in actuality he was miserable when he came home to just her cat and his owl.

“Hermione,” Harry reached out and turned her face towards his. He kept his palm cupped against her cheek and continued, “I get up a bit before six, I work out with Charlie, go to Hogwarts and don't come home until five. Most nights I'm asleep on the sofa, in front of the TV or with a book in my lap, before nine at night. But, when I do come home for the first few moments I anticipate seeing you, then remember you are here. I would love it if you came home early, but I understand if you want to stay with your parents. The decision is yours but, remember, it's your home, too.”

“Actually, it's your house,” Hermione gave a small smile watching Harry give a shake of his head.

“It's yours also, like I said,” he said earnestly, trying to make her understand that this was something he wanted to share with her. And he knew that this was only the start on what he wanted to share with her.

“Harry,” Hermione turned towards him taking his hand in hers. “I appreciate that, but you bought it, you chose it, it's yours. I just live there with you for the time being.”

“I don't want it to be `for the time being',” Harry blurted out, shocking himself as much as he shocked Hermione. Her mouth opened in shock then shut again, her brown eyes wide as understanding dawned quite quickly.

“Harry…I-,” her voice was drowned out by a knock on her door.

“I hear you two are awake in there…do you want to go get breakfast in a few?” Dr. Granger's voice floated through the door. Hermione was still staring at Harry, and nodded in response, then realized her father couldn't see her agreeing.

“Sounds good dad,” Hermione uttered sitting back a bit as Harry removed her hand from hers and grabbed his clothes.

“I'm going to get a quick shower,” he said and quickly walked into the bathroom. He leaned his head against the closed door, silently berating himself for not controlling what was coming out of his mouth. It looked as if he scared her and that was the last thing he wanted to do. That was precisely the reason he hadn't told her he had fallen in love with her.

As he adjusted the shower spray, he vowed to not bring it up again unless she did, or if the moment felt exactly right…and knowing Hermione she was going to analyze everything he said which would take days. He did entertain the idea that he was an adult and it was silly to play childish “I wonder how she/he feels about me games”, so he tried to figure out a way to find the appropriate time to tell her.

It was time he called upon that Gryffindor courage he supposedly had and act upon it.

----

One week later…

Harry still hadn't acted upon his Gryffindor courage. In fact, he managed to push it back into the deep recesses of his mind and pretend he didn't say anything. He couldn't really talk to her with her parents hanging around. As it turned out, she had stayed a few more days with her parents and after they had taken off for Florida, Hermione had floo'd home five days earlier than planned.

Harry had met her at the International Floo Center and twenty minutes later they were stumbling around her bedroom, yanking off each other's clothes, crashing their way through suitcases and bags to her bed, which they ended up falling onto sideways. It was him, this time, that was demanding her in a way he never knew existed. It was as if all his crazy thoughts that had been running around screaming “you love her” (in his head) were coming out in physical form. Afterwards, Hermione told him that it seemed they had become greedy. Harry just agreed, which got her to laughing. The house seemed, fuller, warmer and happier with her in it.

Now, he relished in the fact that it was his last day of renewing the wards…he only had to go over the entire Hogwarts grounds and double check everything. And as lunch time approached, he got the feeling he was being watched.

Nothing scary.

Nothing that was making him anxious to pull out his wand and crouch down in the bushes and wait. Just that fact that, once in awhile, he'd hear a soft noise or feel like someone was watching from afar. He knew Hermione was supposed to come into the school around lunch time; she said she would bring a picnic lunch and insisted on seeing him in his uniform. He felt very self conscious in it and always changed at school after the gym; then changed before he came home. So, she never saw him in it, but he had promised her if she came to see him and brought him lunch, then he'd have to be in it because he was working.

And that was what he was doing at the moment. He had gone around the grounds…four hours of checking, double checking then registering the spell he used into his wand. He realized, just from how the sun was positioned in the sky that it was close to noon and he was hungry. He had told Hermione he would meet her in one of their classrooms for lunch, since she couldn't come down to find him-- secrecy and all that. He pocketed his wand in the special holster on his leg and took a glance over his shoulder…he swore he saw movement.

But, again, nothing was there.

---

Ron peered out from behind a tree, knowing that Hermione was just up the hill in her classroom. After their lunch, he thought maybe he'd pop in and surprise them. Professor McGonagall knew he was there, but he had sworn her to secrecy. She said she had too much on her plate to go around telling her teachers that there was a new ghost, so she said she'd just pretend she didn't know.

So, he settled himself down behind a tree and figured he'd give them an hour for lunch, then pop in as they were cleaning up…he couldn't wait to see their faces!

---

Hermione sat at the top of the stairs, fiddling with the buckle on her sandal when she caught sight of something moving out of the corner of her eye. Looking up she squinted into the sun, then lowered her sunglasses over her eyes.

That couldn't be Harry…could it? She squinted and as he walked closer she realized it had to be him. He was the only one out on the grounds, besides Hagrid, and this tall figure taking long strides up the hill wasn't him.

“Bloody Hell,” Hermione whispered, watching him get closer. She could now see he was dressed entirely in black with long sleeves and he had on plain, black, leather boots that stopped a bit below his knee. Something glinted in the sunlight and Hermione realized he had on mirrored shades; and knew he saw her because he raised a hand in greeting. She told her hand to lift and wave back, which thankfully it did because her mouth was to busy gawking at him. The black top, which she could see ended at his hips, stretched over his torso much like a muggle wet suit, showing every defining muscle and ripple as he walked. His pants were slightly form fitting but were a bit looser and the bottoms disappeared into his boots. The waist seemed to be connected to the shirt somehow. He had on black gloves which he began pulling off as he started up the stairs and stopped in front of her, raising his sunglasses and setting them on his head.

For a moment they just stared at each other, until Hermione realized she needed to breathe. She grabbed the wall feeling strange pulsations beat through her body.

“Hermione?” he questioned, folding up his gloves and tucking them into a pocket in the back, that she didn't know he had. “Are we…are you alright?”

Hermione nodded as the realization hit her. For the first time, she was turned on by someone in a uniform. Sure, the Quidditch uniforms were great, but she had been to busy worrying about Ron getting hit by a bludger or Harry falling and cracking his skull again to truly appreciate them.

“Yes…I'm fine. Holy Merlin's Beard, Harry, why didn't you tell me the uniform was like-,” Hermione gestured towards him wordlessly, as he began walking towards the door.

Harry put his hands out to the sides and looked down as they walked side by side to her classroom. “Like what? It's awful, I know.” He gave her a sheepish grin. She shook her head vehemently.

“Not awful, no…not at all awful,” Hermione murmured reaching out and touching his arm. The material was soft, almost like silk.

“It repels spells, most of them, or absorbs them, depending on how deathly they are. Doesn't work on the Avada one, of course. The sunglasses protect my head…etcetera,” Harry explained quickly, feeling her hand run down his arm, then back up again. He looked down at her, as he held her classroom door open for them to walk through. Hermione just stood there momentarily forgetting her picnic lunch and watched him walk over to the table and set down his sunglasses, then take out his gloves and set them down next to his wand.

Every movement he made brought her closer to the feeling she just wanted to launch herself at him and snog him senseless. Peeking into the basket he looked over his shoulder and asked her something, but she couldn't hear anything through the roaring in her ears. Then, the pull she was feeling towards him was incredible…she wondered if his suit absorbing all that magic combined with just his magic was making it impossible for her to think straight.

She watched him walk back to her, concern on her face and she knew if he asked if she was feeling well. She just nodded, then reached up and pulled his head down towards hers. She could tell she took him by surprise when he seemed to hesitate on where to put his arms. She curled her arms around his neck and leaned into him, feeling him respond hesitantly at first. She knew he was thinking anyone could walk into her classroom at the moment and see them like this, but she didn't care…her mind had shut down and all the energy she felt went into them.

“Hermione,” Harry managed to whisper against her lips. “You sure you're alright?”

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione smiled at him, her arms still wrapped securely around his neck. “It's you in that uniform…,” she started, seeing understanding finally cross his face.

“Really? Damn. I would've worn this every night at home then,” he joked before kissing her softly.

“If you only had shown me earlier,” Hermione whispered, tilting her head back as he nipped at her jaw bone then under her chin. “I'm really not in the mood for lunch right now.”

Harry's laugh tickled her ear. “We're in your classroom, not the best place to be snogging each other.”

Hermione pulled one of her arms back from his neck, found her wand in her shorts pocket and flicked it towards the door. Locking and silencing the room, she turned back to Harry.

“This is my classroom and you need to do what I ask you to do,” Hermione said playfully tossing her wand onto her desk.

“What happens if I don't? I am kind of hungry,” he kissed her ear, then let his lips slide down her neck.

“Ummm…detention.” She gasped as he kissed her collarbone, letting his hand slide up her back and into her hair.

Harry hummed an amused reply in his throat and captured her lips again, pressing her up against the wall, feeling his control slipping as her hands pressed and massaged over his chest and back.

“How does this thing come off?” Hermione tugged at his collar looking for a zipper. Gently he reached up and guided her hand to the back of his neck where she felt a metal slide for a zipper. Pushing into her, as she pulled the zipper down, Hermione couldn't help the shudder that ran through her body. Moaning, when he did it again, made his hands move faster over her, sliding her shorts down, letting his fingers brush against her knickers. Crying out, she jerked against him, tugging at his uniform so it slid down over his hips…she needed him…NOW. He must have sensed it because she felt him hold her tighter, pulling one of her legs up to his hip, one hand pressing against her bum and she felt her knickers fade away.

“Harry! How?” She gasped as she felt the full length of him against her. He just shook his head slightly and pulled her other leg up so she was now pressed against the wall but being supported by him. Never in all her dreams did she ever think she would have sex against the wall of her classroom…especially at this frenzied place. She wanted him…like what had been their first time. No control had by any of them.

“Please…,” Hermione moaned pushing against him. “No control…,” she gasped feeling Harry move under her.

“But,” he whispered thickly against her neck, imagining chaos in her classroom.

“Charmed,” she gasped, meaning she had sticking charms on everything so her students wouldn't accio something over that wasn't theirs and play a trick by transforming it. Harry nodded in comprehension, not holding anything back as he pushed into her, sighing against her chest with every movement of her hips.

Hermione didn't think being with Harry could get any more sensual than their first time, but she was wrong. Everything melted away except him, but this time everything came faster as she started to reach her pinnacle. Lights swirled behind her eyes and she swore she heard him say something with her name at the end.

“What?” she gasped, crying out as his mouth captured hers and his hands pulled her hips towards him…faster and more roughly than she had ever known him to be. Heavy pants, jumbled thoughts, sounds of chimes, colors of gold and sliver swirled around her and she suddenly felt a piercing warmth penetrate her. She heard, or maybe she read his thoughts, either way “I love you, Hermione” echoed in her head until she arched against him, crying out as she hurdled down to a solid ground, hearing his name echo off the walls. His tender cries were muffled in her neck as she held onto him, until they both stopped trembling. She wondered how he had the strength to hold her up.

She didn't have the willpower to stop the thoughts that tumbled out of her mouth, ranging from: “Oh My God, that was brilliant” to his comment of “Fuck, yeah”. He grinned as she lightly slapped in on the arm, reprimanding his use of language.

Then as if someone flipped a switch he pulled his face from her neck and kissed her, leisurely and deeply, holding her as tightly as he could. Slowly , he pulled away and their eyes met and locked.

“I love you,” he said quickly as if he thought that the words might not make it out of his mouth if he didn't say them fast enough. Hermione smiled at him, her eyes filling with warm tears as she leaned over and kissed him lightly.

“I love you,” she whispered, feeling his arms wrap around her tighter, if possible, and heard a sharp intake of breath. “I think I always have…and always will.”

Harry's breath hitched in his chest as her tears spilled over her cheeks and wet his shoulder. He was at a loss for words, and was sure that what started out as a fun, spur of the moment lunch ended up being so serious, and so heart-felt he was sure he didn't want this moment to end.

But, hunger had it's own plans. Someone's stomach growled, which led them to straighten up, get dressed, all the while quietly looking at each other. Reaching over he touched her cheek and felt the need to tell her again.

“I've never felt this way about anyone Hermione…you're…you're so deep inside me that I truly can't imagine life without you,” Harry began, feeling Hermione's hand zip up his uniform. Her arms went around him and she hugged him, hard, silently telling him she felt the same. If she spoke, she was sure a sob would escape and she wasn't going to cry…again.

----

“That was one of the best lunches I've ever had,” Harry complimented Hermione, as they whisked away the crumbs from their sandwiches.

“Thanks…having dessert first was the best, though,” Hermione grinned and winked at him. He laughed, leaned over and kissed her cheek and as he pulled away he saw something float down from the ceiling.

Immediately his hand went to his wand and he jumped back from Hermione who looked up at him in surprise.

The form turned around and Harry's mouth dropped. Hermione's heart sped up as she looked up from her spot in the chair. Harry's face had suddenly gone pale and his wand clattered to the table. Spinning around in her chair she saw a familiar face with red hair and screamed, her hands flying up to her mouth. Harry's hand gripped her shoulder, more to steady himself than anything.

“Hullo mates…how was lunch?” Ron's familiar voice echoed through the room.

“What the fuck?” Harry questioned in a hoarse whisper, his hand slipping off Hermione's shoulder as she sprang to her feet and pointed a finger at him.

“Ronald Weasley, you little prat…you scared us to death. What the hell do you think you're doing!” Hermione's hand shook as she pointed at him, but all Ron did was laugh.

“Merlin, it feels great to hear you yell at me, Hermione.” Ron smiled down at her and Hermione stared at him trying to get all her thoughts in a sensible row. She saw his eyes flick to Harry, who was strangely quiet. Turning her head, she saw Harry staring at Ron with a mixture of expressions flying through his green eyes.

“Don't worry, mate,” Ron floated closer until he was floating on the other side of the table, causing Harry and Hermione to turn ninety degrees to look at him. “I'm really dead-.”

“I can see that,” Harry said quickly, his voice lower than normal.

“And,” Ron continued placing his hands behind his back, “I know about you and Hermione and I'm glad…Ginny's glad…no one else deserves each other more than you.”

Hermione felt tears prick the back of her eyes, cleared her throat and suddenly bowed her head---totally overwhelmed that the three of them were standing together once more. Also, that her former boyfriend had immediately given them his blessing.

“Thanks,” Harry whispered still floored by his best friend's form in front of him. Hermione nodded, her hair forming a curtain around her face as she kept her eyes trained to the floor. She felt Harry's arm come around her shoulders.

“I didn't mean to make you cry,” Ron said gently to Hermione watching her run a hand through her hair, then look up at him. Their eyes met and the feelings that Hermione thought she would experience—confusion, guilt, anger---were not there. Happiness, took their place. She gave him a small smile.

“I've missed you,” she said honestly, feeling Harry nod in agreement. If the way his hand was gripping her shoulder was any indication of what he was feeling, she knew he was just as overwhelmed as she was. She curled an arm around Harry's waist and held him tightly.

“I know you have a job to do, Harry, but…when you guys want to I'd like to get together and talk. I have loads to tell you,” Ron said carefully, a bit confused by Harry's silence.

A second ticked by and then his confusion slipped away.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered thickly, wiping the back of his eyes quickly with his free hand. “I'd like that.” Harry gave Ron a watery smile, then buried his face in Hermione's hair, kissing the top of her hair trying to compose himself.

“Maybe tomorrow?” Hermione suggested. Ron nodded in agreement.

“And, if you don't mind…can you let my family know I'm now an official Hogwarts ghost?”

“Haunting the dining hall?” Harry questioned his voice a bit steadier. Ron grinned widely.

“You got that right! I'll see you sometime tomorrow,” Ron winked at them and disappeared through the ceiling, leaving his two best friends staring up at the heavens in silent wonder.

-->

17. Coming Together

Coming Together

Harry looked straight past Pansy while she looked down at her plate. He was thinking of all the ways Charlie was going to pay him back for keeping an eye on Pansy. Two days ago, Charlie had owled Harry saying Pansy seemed upset in her last letter and wanted Harry to see her in person; give him an unbiased opinion on how she seemed to be fairing.

Unbiased.

Hermione had laughed aloud at that one, knowing how Harry didn't really fancy any kind of friendship with her, anything remotely relating to Draco, or many of the other Slytherin's that had helped make his life hell. But, she understood that Harry respected the Weasley's and that he had promised Charlie to check up on Pansy. So, he managed to owl Pansy and asked her to meet him at the Three Broomsticks.

“So, how're you and Hermione doing?” Pansy asked twirling her spaghetti around her fork, still not looking at him.

“Uh, fine. What've you been up to?” Harry quickly shoved a piece of bread in his mouth so he wouldn't have to answer any other questions that came his way.

Pansy lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “Basically helping Narcissa with stuff around the house. No one wants me to go get a job in case I accidentally fall or get a cut and maybe bleed to death,” she began sarcastically, “so I basically try to relax all day. My life is pretty boring, actually.”

“Yeah, that doesn't sound too fun,” Harry mumbled pushing his food around on his plate, wishing Hermione was here instead of her appointment at a bookstore in London. She wouldn't tell him for what, and he didn't press…he only knew she couldn't make it to dinner. He racked his brain for something to say to Pansy because he was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute. Hermione's advice came back to him now; he asked what he was going to talk about with Pansy.

`Ask her about the babies. Most women would love to talk about their pregnancy.' So, he did just that and asked how her pregnancy was progressing.

Pansy finally looked up at him and gave him a small smile.

“In a week I find out the sex of the babies, so that's something I'm looking forward too.”

“Any ideas?” Harry asked cautiously, amazed at how her eyes seemed to light up when she talked about herself, and her babies.

“One of each, I think. Apparently some old friends have bets going on, so we'll see who's right.” Pansy took a bite of her spaghetti as Harry nodded, not really wanting to know what friends she was talking about.

“Don't you have a birthday coming up or something? I thought Luna said something.”

“Yeah…July 31st…the day before you find out about your babies,” Harry answered, nodding to the waiter when asked if he could take Harry's plate.

“Doing anything big?”

“No, just dinner with Hermione and her parents the weekend before. You should know I don't like fanfare,” Harry gave her a slight smile as she nodded in agreement.

“And Draco did like fanfare,” Pansy added looking wistful.

Harry remained silent, not really know what he could say other than agreeing with her.

“I know Charlie told you to ask me here. Never in a million lifetimes would I ever expect you, Harry Potter, to owl me and ask me to dinner,” Pansy finally said firmly, folding her hands and leaning on the table. “I've only written Charlie two letters. One, letting him know that my mini vacation with my parents to Germany went fine. Another thanking him for the stuffed dragon he sent me for the babies. I have to say, I never thought I'd be writing a Weasley in my life, let alone accepting a gift from one of them.” Pansy now looked down and twirled her water glass around in a small circle.

“Apparently he thought in those letters, since they were short, something was wrong. I'm not a letter writer. I'm fine; babies are fine. I'm bored…that's about it.”

“Okay. I understand…I'm just doing my friendly duty.” Harry placed some galleons on the table and waved Pansy's hand away when she tried to place some down. Their eyes met and for a moment, Harry thought she might cry. She looked so sad and he prayed that she wouldn't let the tears over flow. He was rubbish when it came to crying females.

“Thank you, Harry,” Pansy suddenly blurted out as she stood up. Her top flowed over her round stomach and Harry couldn't help his eyes flicking to her middle, then back up at her face.

“Sure. I'll write Charlie and tell him you're just bored.”

Pansy nodded wordlessly and headed back to the front of the restaurant, disappearing into the loo before she headed out into the humid air.

Harry sighed and finished his juice, wondering if his life could get any more twisted from how it was a month ago.

----

“Two weeks I'd say, Miss Granger. That's all we can tell right now,” a kindly healer told Hermione. The healer moved around to her desk and sat down making a note in Hermione's file.

“But…I still don't understand. How could this happen? The charm was done, correctly. I know it was. I've never heard of it not working before, if done correctly,” Hermione repeated nervously. Her stomach was twisting around in knots, threatening to spill out the water and toast she had earlier.

“Well, considering what you told me about your partner, and just from what you said about how you found a few items uprooted from their sticking charms, I believe that he is truly more powerful than anyone knew. You know how hard it is to override some charms. However, we all know how powerful Mr. Potter is normally and if he lets go of the control that he keeps over his magic, he can override just about any curse. Maybe not the Avada Kedavra or the Crucio, but probably the ones lower on the totem pole, so to speak.” The healer leaned forward and smiled kindly. She could see tears threatening to spill over Hermione's eyes and knew how nervous she was at this moment.

“You didn't know. No one did. I know you're a bright witch and will see the logic in this. Also, based upon your previous relationship and the spell working correctly back then…I believe you are dating someone so powerful, not much stands in his way. Not even a contraception charm.”

“So, I got pregnant the first time we had sex? I mean…I thought all the tiredness was jet lag. Then I thought maybe, in the back of my mind that all the symptoms I had could be related to pregnancy; I had every symptom that I had ever read about… but then remembered we did the charm the first time. But, the last time, just a few days ago we forgot…,” Hermione's soft tone trailed off as she stared at her hands, truly unable to comprehend what she had just found out.

“Well, it wasn't from a few days ago. The readings we took, based on your last menstrual period are confirming that you are two weeks pregnant. I can't tell you any more than that. You said your period is due tomorrow. If you don't get it in the next few days, that might cement the fact in your mind. Miss Granger, there isn't any need to be scared. I'm sure Mr. Potter will-,” the healer thought but stopped short as Hermione shook her head sharply.

“I'm not used to things that aren't unplanned but, usually, I can handle them…but telling Harry will be one of the hardest things I will ever have to do. Also…ummm…how can pregnancy be prevented if he loses control again?”

The healer flipped Hermione's folder shut and looked at her pointedly.

“A Muggle condom. The Muggle Contraception Pill probably won't work on you since you are a witch, but the condom works on everyone. Some people I see have never mastered the magical contraception charm and use the condom so they don't have twelve children. That's the only advice I can give you.”

“Great,” Hermione intoned, knowing what a condom was and not looking forward to telling Harry that piece of news. The healer was still talking as Hermione brought herself back to the reason she was in the office.

“…you will tell him though won't you? You know I'm sworn to patient/healer confidentiality so nothing will get out from this end. But, based on my twenty years of experience, it's always best if the father knows.”

“I'll tell him… I just don't know when I can,” Hermione sighed, standing up and now looking at the healer, a neutral expression on her face. “Thank you. When should I come back?”

“Come back in a month or so. We can do some imaging and see what's going on in there.”

Hermione nodded, quietly shook the healers hand and walked quickly out of St. Mungo's lest anyone saw her there. She felt bad enough lying to Harry about where she was going to be while he was eating with Pansy. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to him now…then as she looked up and saw a Muggle billboard with a test tube on it, promoting some new Muggle pharmaceutical, a thought slammed into her, actually pushing the thought away briefly that she was pregnant.

She had an idea on how to get that cylinder out of the niche it seemed to be permanently stuck on Harry's basement wall. Thoroughly concentrating on that, so she didn't have to feel the guilt and nervousness that she felt moments ago, she ducked into an alley and disapparated back to Harry's house.

It was dark and quiet when she appeared in the library at Harry's house, so she took the moment to floo Bill at home, praying Fleur wouldn't answer the floo. She wasn't sure if she could look at another pregnant woman at this moment. Luckily, Bill appeared and immediately asked how they were doing.

“Fine, thanks,” she answered automatically. “I have a thought I'd like to run by you on getting that cylinder out of the wall. We've tried the blasting spells we were taught at Hogwarts and everything related to that. But, I thought of something…maybe if we can get Harry to lose all his magical control…and have him direct one of those blasting spells or even accio the cylinder, he might override whatever is holding it down.”

Bill stared at her for a moment, confused. “What do you mean `all his magical control'? I'm not sure I follow.”

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, already embarrassed that she was going to have to reveal this next piece of information. Taking a deep breath she quickly explained about, how during an intimate moment he let all his control go and even with the strongest sticking charms she knew, she still found some items knocked off their perch. She didn't mention this happened to be in her classroom a few days ago. Thankfully, Bill was the most mature Weasley child and just nodded knowingly.

“I've actually read about that somewhere. Very few wizards can override that kind of magic. Let me run to the office and find the book I saw it in and bring it over. We might be able to figure something out.”

“I don't want to take time away from Fleur and Will,” Hermione began apologizing, rocking back on her heels in front of the fireplace.

“Not a problem. They're in France until Sunday. Fleur wanted to go while she could still travel safely and took Will with her. So, it's been obscenely quiet here the past few days,” Bill smiled at her and said he's be over in an hour or so. With a soft crackle, he disappeared leaving Hermione sitting on the floor, staring into an empty fireplace.

For once, she was at a loss as to what to do or say. Part of her mind knew that the sensible thing was to sit Harry down and explain what happened. But, the emotional part of her kicked in and told her to hold off on telling him, citing all the reasons why: he just finished a long two weeks of renewing the wards; he was racking his brain trying to figure out what was in the cylinder and what could be done to remove it; he was planning the Quidditch Club via owl's with Christie Bell; he had been helping her, Hermione, find the last two volumes to Transfiguration and Astrology: The Stars and Moons of the Changing World. And for the first time in a year, he seemed relaxed, happy and enjoying life. She needed to let him experience that relaxed state as long as she could. He deserved it.

Her thoughts then inevitably turned to the future. She played with numbers and came up with an estimated due date at the very end of March, or early April. Her mind was so muddled and tired from just being pregnant she couldn't truly be sure what date it would most likely be.

She didn't even hear Harry come in finding her sitting in the living room staring into a blank fireplace, her arms wrapped around her knees. For a moment he watched her, wondering why she was sitting on the floor with one magical lamp lit. He expected her to be reading whatever new book she found, or maybe taking a bath since she had been working outside all day and seemed to be physically sore when they had parted that evening---going their separate ways.

“'Mione?” Harry called softly smiling as she spun around, obviously startled. He couldn't see her eyes in the dim light bur got the distinct feeling she had been crying. “You alright?” He watched her pick herself up off the floor and walk straight into his arms, hugging him hard.

“Yeah…how was dinner?” Her arms were tight around him causing Harry to frown a bit. He held her against him and quickly ran through the non-events of dinner then asked how her trip to the bookstore was.

“They…didn't have what I was looking for,” Hermione said quickly. He noticed as she pulled away she didn't meet his gaze. Instead she turned and walked towards the kitchen citing she was thirsty.

“Volumes four and five of Transfig and Astrology?” Harry questioned, reaching down to pet Crookshanks who had made his way down the stairs for a snack.

“Yes…oh, by the way, Bill is coming over. I had an idea about the cylinder downstairs.” Harry noticed she changed the subject quite quickly but went along and asked what her idea was. After hearing what she said to Bill, and feeling a flush creep into his cheeks, he had to admit that it seemed very possible.

He hadn't noticed the bottles he had knocked over in Hermione's classroom until the next day when they were going to meet Ron. Ron was already waiting in her classroom making fun of Hermione for not keeping her classroom neat. Both Harry and Hermione looked into one of the darker corners where just a few bottles and odd machines had been sitting on top of a locked cabinet. They were now on the floor in pieces and hadn't been noticed by Harry nor Hermione the day before.

She had told him later that night, after talking with Ron for hours, that she had cast the strongest sticking charms she knew on those items. Harry had apologized, but she blew it off citing that their reparo spells seemed to restore them back to their natural state.

“Did Bill say anything about Ron?”

Hermione shook her head and sipped the tea she had made for both of them. They were leaning back against the counter hip to hip, each trying to relax from their out of the ordinary evening. Harry noticed Hermione seemed to be back to herself and chalked up her curious behavior to tiredness.

“No…after we went to Arthur and Molly's and told them about Ron, I noticed he seemed to be the one that had the biggest problem going to see him. I'm pretty sure the next day Fred, George, Katie, Lavender and Charlie went…before he left for Romania.”

“Molly and Arthur haven't gone?”

Hermione shook her head. “I think they need some time to get used to the idea, especially now that they know Ginny isn't going to be a ghost and seems friendly with Draco.”

“Maybe they're angry at Ron for letting her become friendly with Malfoy,” Harry mused.

“I don't think so. Ron made it clear that they could take care of themselves and there is nothing we can do from here. She's beyond their control now. I'm just curious as to why Bill seems hesitant in seeing him; you think he'd jump at the chance to go talk to him and hear about being Light and what that means.”

Harry swirled that last of the tea in his cup thinking about an answer. Bill was always very mature and serious and Harry thought truly it would've been Bill, Arthur and Molly that would go see Ron first. Obviously he had been wrong. A picture of Will flashed through his head and Harry set down his teacup.

“I think I know why.”

“Why what?”

“Why Bill won't go see Ron. It's Will. He looks so much like Ron it's eerie; maybe he just has issues with going to see his brother, then coming back and seeing Will. It could be that he isn't ready to introduce Will to Ron yet either. You know how relentless Will is with questioning everything.”

“Yes he is…and he does look a lot like Ron. I think you may have a point actually,” she paused for a moment as she thought that reason over. “Do you think we should talk to him about it?”

Harry immediately shook his head, placing his cup in the sink then walking back towards the basement.

“Give him time. Men need time to get used to ideas that are sprung on them like that. I bet by next week, he'll have figured out how to handle it,” Harry advised her, never knowing that he had helped lift a small weight off of Hermione's shoulders on how she was going to tell him she was pregnant.

---

“Well…they said it—they said `I love you'-- according to what I heard Neville tell Luna,” Ginny said to Draco as she idly passed her hand through a flowering shrub near the entrance to the castle.

“So, you're free and clear now?” Draco asked watching her struggle with her decision.

“I guess…I know this is what I kept saying I needed to move on, but it still doesn't feel completed.”

“Maybe you need to hear them say it, instead of hearing someone say they said it.”

Ginny laughed, then stopped short realizing she hadn't done that in a long time. Her eyes drifted to the other side of the stairs where he was sitting.

“You almost made sense there, Malfoy,” she gave him a small smile then let her hand drift back down to her side. “But, truthfully I'm confused as to why I don't feel like I had been set free when I heard Neville say that. I'm sure Harry probably said something to Neville about how strange it was to say those words, or how hard it was. I know Neville wouldn't talk about it unless it was true. And, I remember Ron saying how he felt when he was ready to move on and I certainly don't feel like a tether has been cut from me.” Ginny realized she was rambling and forced herself to stop talking before she talked Draco's ear off.

“Maybe it's different for each person? Your needs are different from his…rather, were different. Just as mine are different from yours.”

Ginny stared at him wondering when he began to actually philosophize about things. Maybe he was starting to become that neutral emotional being that the Light becomes after “living” this life for awhile.

“What?” Draco asked seeing the look on her face. “It's true. I just want to know the babies are healthy and fine and I can move on. I don't want to hover…I'm not a hovering kind of person.”

“Yeah, that's obvious…I mean, I know,” Ginny quickly corrected seeing him narrow his eyes at her. “But…I guess all this time I thought that those three words were what I needed them to say in order for me to move on. Maybe I was wrong all this time.”

Draco moved closer to where she was and waited until she glanced up at him to continue.

“You know why we were chosen to be able to go to Echo…if we so choose right?” He didn't wait for her to acknowledge she knew but launched into his thoughts, “Nick said it's because we have some connection to each other that needs to be completed AND that is added to the fact that our lives were cut short and Echo gives us a chance to finish our so-called life. But, we can't take any baggage with us to the next place…and if you can't let Potter go and not hover, then I'm not sure how you will be able to move on.”

“It's hard to let go…I have no idea what to expect in Echo. I don't know who'll be there; I'll know only you there and…I'm not sure what even that means.”

“Sometimes you have to just leap before you finish planning everything…and considering that you won't kill yourself doing it as Light, what harm can come of it?” he asked quietly. It was easy to see how conflicted she was. After all, he had known her for years at Hogwarts and the month and a half of being Light; he knew she hated not knowing what was going on.

Ginny absorbed his words and turned them over in her head, trying to make sense of her feelings. He was patiently waiting next to her, their legs bumping when she shifted position as she thought. After what must've seemed like hours to him she looked up at him and told him the truth.

“I'm scared, Draco. I know what I have here,” she watched his eyebrows shoot up in surprise at her blatant honesty, but kept silent. “All my familiar places and my friends are here. I can even communicate if I can find Luna…but there in Echo…well, the more I think about it the more scared I get. What if I don't like it? What happens after you take your aging potion and you die at whatever predetermined time is in the cards for you? Where do I go after Echo? Nick said he truly didn't know because after Echo there isn't any way to communicate back to here. I just don't like not knowing.” She kept her eyes riveted at the bottom stair waiting for Draco to say something. He seemed to be struggling for something to say because he got up and began moving across the stair as if he was pacing.

Just as she was getting ready to give up on a response from him, and leave for the dungeons, he grabbed her arm pulling her towards him until they were eye to eye. Her arm tingled where his hand gripped it but she managed to concentrate on what she had just said in order to not relish too much in the feel of him.

“I can't believe I am going to say this…especially to a Weasley so I'll say it once,” he looked right at her making sure she understood. Giving a small nod for him to go on she waited for him to continue. His eyes flicked up for a moment then back down as if summoning the courage to say what he felt.

“There's no need to be that scared of Echo…I'll be there with you.” He waited for her reply but all he got was a confused look from her.

“You said that already,” she responded slowly trying to read between his lines, but found there was nothing to read. Sighing Draco squeezed her arm then relaxed his hand, letting is slide down to hers.

“I mean, I'll be there with you. I'm not going to abandon you there…we'll be together. I'll be there for you; we'll learn that world together.” His eyes searched hers seeing that she understood what he meant. Her mouth formed a silent oh and he couldn't help his gaze slide down to her lips. Quickly he jerked his hand away from her arm as a vaguely familiar rush of heat flooded through him.

“Did that make sense?” he asked making his voice sound a bit more firmer than he actually felt at the moment.

“Yes…and…it does help to know I'll know someone there and that you just won't dump me and run.” Both were quiet and avoided looking at each other, awkward as teenagers. “Thanks,” Ginny whispered floating backwards a bit. “I need to be alone for a bit, think things through.”

Draco nodded curtly. “I'll see you later then,” and he turned and flew off towards the Quidditch Pitch, leaving Ginny alone to mull her strange life over in as many ways as she could. She needed to make a decision soon, or it'd be too late. She's be stuck as Light forever.

---

Harry, Bill and Hermione stared silently at the glimmering cylinder that seemed to be mocking them.

“So,” Hermione began tucking her hands into her jean pockets and cocking her head towards the niche. “What now? Did your book say anything?”

“Well, it talked a bit about how, like you said in certain instances it's easier for a wizard, or witch, to let go of their control…and that it's harder when they actually TRY to do it to obtain something. Whether to just be destructive in general or to show off. So, for us to tell Harry, “Hey mate, let go of all your power and while you're at it, accio the cylinder,” won't be the easiest thing for him to do.”

“So…what now?”

“Well, it'll work…I meant that you need to want to let go of it. You'll have to keep just a tad of it behind to pull the cylinder out of the wall. That's what takes the utmost concentration. We can't really help you, especially since this seems to be something only YOU can do.” Bill tossed his book onto an overturned crate and walked over to the cylinder.

“What I would recommend is for you to sitdown here, relaxing, almost meditating on what you want to do, how you plan on doing it. Visualzing what it feels like to let your power go, how you can keep a bit of it back to remember to say “Accio Prophecy”. Some wizards let it all go to the point where they end up passing out and don't have any recollection other than the destruction, or testimony of those around them.”

“We can't stay in case he needs our help?” Hermione asked edging closer to Harry not liking the fact that she would have to leave him alone with an object they've never seen.

“He'll be fine…it's ultimately up to him though. I've scanned the cylinder and there aren't any dark spurts of magic waiting to be unleashed. You know, like those Muggle joke-cans filled with the worms that spring out at you.”

Harry nodded knowingly, remembering Dudley's can-o-worms from so many years ago. “I would actually prefer if you two stay. Hermione can probably sense when I'm almost…well, she could probably tell me when to “accio” and I'll hear her,” Harry tried to explain. He remembered, when losing his magical control, that he was only conscious of her; could only hear her, so he hoped maybe it was the same when he was actually letting his control go for a different reason.

“Alright,” Bill nodded. He asked Hermione and Harry to help him move some empty boxes to a corner where they shrank them down to the size of quarters. They found a trunk Harry had acquired his first year at Hogwarts and sealed them inside. No one wanted anything flying around. His Quidditch equipment was already in the shed out back and the empty crate was something Harry chose to sit on, facing the cylinder. Hermione stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders rubbing them slightly to try and ease the tension out of him. All his natural defenses didn't want him to let his magic go but he was going to have to find a way around that in order to get the cylinder out of the wall.

“I'll go sit on the stairs,” Bill motioned towards the center of the room. Harry swiped off his glasses and held them out towards Bill who pocketed them in his button down shirt.

“You can do this,” Hermione whispered in his ear. “Just think of letting your control go slowly, let it trickle out. I can try and help you if you want, but I'm not sure what I can do.”

“I'll let you know,” Harry said quietly, turning his face towards her and kissing her quickly. She felt him settle himself more comfortably on the crate and bow his head towards his legs. It didn't take long until she felt the familiar pull that emanated from him. It made her want to climb into his lap, curl up and just hold him but she managed to keep her feet rooted to the floor behind him. Her hands on his shoulders, her stomach pressed against his back. She watched the cylinder for any signs of movement.

Nothing.

A minute later she could feel a ripple of warm air flow through the room. She glanced over at Bill who was watching the cylinder intently. Harry's shoulder twitched under her hands and she brought her attention back to him. She moved her hands slowly over his shoulders and as she did so, she could feel the intensity jump up in the room. It was if there was static in the air but not quite enough to make her hair stand on end.

“There's a piece of parchment in there,” Harry said suddenly, surprising Hermione and Bill.

“What's on it?” Hermione asked quietly her hands still rubbing his shoulders. Something told her to not stop touching him, that somehow she was anchoring him in his thoughts. That he needed her to guide him in some small way to the end of this mission.

Harry shook his head and was quiet again…the air was filled with anticipation and out of the corner of her eye she saw Bill glance up the stairs as the door clicked shut. A low hum filled the room and Hermione recognized the first step of him losing his control. The basement door had shut on it's own accord and a dust bunny rolled across the floor and settled in the opposite corner.

“Good, Harry,” Hermione whispered feeling him twitch under her hands. “Keep thinking about getting that cylinder out of there…it's about you, your family. You want to see what's in there.” As Hermione was saying these words the pressure seemed to increase in the room and her ears popped. She swore she saw the light flicker in the niche, which was a good sign and the cylinder seemed to tremble as the hum in the room grew louder. Hermione crouched down behind Harry, her hand gripping his biceps, looking for some sign that the cylinder was free and he could accio it towards him.

There was a small metal scraping noise and she saw the cylinder tremble on it's spot, still upright. The light popped out as if some extinguished it just by blowing in its direction. Something rattled in the corner of his basement but she didn't want to turn her head to see what it was. His arms were tense, his breathing was faster. She heard him mumble something that sounded like a question, but the sudden roar that filled the basement stifled his voice.

“What?” Hermione asked loudly against his ear as she felt a shudder go through him.

“Now?” he asked quickly, his voice just as loud. Hermione glanced up and saw the cylinder swaying from side to side…she had a feeling it needed to be levitated in the niche so it wasn't touching anything.

“Almost Harry… a little more,” Hermione now yelled as it felt like a tornado was whirling around her. “A little more!” The cylinder suddenly jumped up and was suspended in mid air.

“NOW! ACCIO NOW!” Hermione yelled in his ear. He was so turned into himself, his mind and magic, he didn't even lift his hand as he uttered the words, “Accio cylinder.”

Hermione stuck her hand out at the last minute and felt something cold and hard slam into it, pushing her back, roughly, onto the floor. A swirling of gray filled the hole and one heart beat later, the hole was sealed as if it never existed.

Immediately the wind, the roaring and rattling in the basement stopped. Bill rushed over to help Hermione stand while Harry rested his head on his hands, still sitting on the crate.

“You both alright? That's was bloody amazing, Harry,” Bill grabbed Harry's shoulder and gave him a little shake.

“Thanks,” Harry said weakly, plucking his glasses from Bill's hand and turning around to face Hermione.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes…here,” Hermione struggled to catch her breath as she handed him the surprising heavy cylinder. Harry took is slowly, still weakened by what he had just accomplished.

“I don't understand these symbols,” Harry said turning it over in his hands and giving the black stopper a tug. It was stuck in there very tightly. Bill gave it a tug and it wouldn't budge, then he held the words up to the light.

“It says, “Potter Prophecy; July thirty first eighteen hundred and twenty one. To be Opened by the one for Whom it was Intended.” Bill's voice trailed off at the end as he gave it a shake, not hearing anything inside and looking slightly dazed at what he just read.

“Another fucking prophecy?” Harry's asked wearily. “I don't want to know.”

“But, it's your family's. It can't be that bad,” Hermione consoled, helping him to a standing position as Bill continued to exam the cylinder.

“I need to eat something,” Harry said weakly feeling as if every ounce of energy was pulled out of him. “Then maybe nap…I'm in no hurry to open another prophecy. We'll figure out what to do tomorrow.”

Harry led the way, slowly, up the stairs and into his kitchen. Bill set down the cylinder on the kitchen table and, for good measure, placed a sticking charm upon it.

“Do you need my help for anything else?” Bill asked watching Hermione fetch Harry some pumpkin juice and push a slice of apple pie under his nose.

Harry shook his head, his mouth full.

“I'll get in touch with you tomorrow and we'll all open this together…if we can figure that out,” Hermione answered for Harry.

Bill nodded then turned to Hermione complimenting her on her idea.

“How did you come up with that?” he asked shrugging on his summer wizarding robes that had been draped over the chair.

Hermione's mind flew in all directions trying to come up with an answer. She didn't want to give away that she wasn't anywhere near a bookstore, so she just shrugged and stole a piece of Harry's pie so she didn't have to answer.

“Well, good thinking there, Granger. I'll see you all later then. Impressive, Harry…you could come break curses with me anytime!”

“No thanks, this was enough to last a lifetime. I'm going to sleep for two days after I finish this,” Harry waved goodbye as Bill let himself out the front door.

“You're okay?” Hermione asked Harry watching him closely. He raised his eyes to hers and gave a weak smile.

“I am…just tired that's all. You?”

“Same…I think it's early to bed tonight,” Hermione said softly her hand running lightly across her stomach as she placed a napkin in her lap before she ate a piece of pie.

“Remember our dinner with my parents tomorrow,” Hermione said softly, briefly wondering if he knew about his surprise party. He nodded and took a long drink of juice.

She felt that she needed to wait to see what was in the prophecy before she told Harry that he was going to be a father. The words Harry and father together in one sentence made her tear up…she had no idea what his reaction was going to be when he found out he was going to be a dad.

-->

18. The Prophecy

A/N: No amount of thanks would be enough for my friend Lynney who wrote the prophecy, borne of my ideas and storyline. It fits here perfectly and without her, this chapter wouldn't be here!

Also, I know this is shorter than normal (and took longer to post b/c of the long weekend and other daily life activities!) but I thought this Prophecy deserved a chapter unto itself, pretty much…so here it is! The next chapter will have Harry's Surprise Bday party and certain news for Harry….

----

The Prophecy

“Harry, something happened you'll never believe…I'm pregnant.”

Hermione paced in front of her mirror shaking her head as she mulled over what she would say.

“Happy Birthday Harry! I have a present for you that I can't really wrap,” she muttered to herself, twisting her robe sash in her hands nervously.

“Dammit, Hermione, think of a way to tell him!” Hermione chastised herself as she sunk down onto her bed, cradling her head in her hands moaning quietly to herself. It was early morning, the day after Harry managed to remove the cylinder from his wall. After dinner the previous night they had both gone to bed, exhausted but for two entirely different reasons. Hermione knew she had to tell Harry about her being pregnant sooner than later. She needed him to know, it was his right, but she had to find the courage to tell him.

As she began the process of getting herself showered and dressed, Harry was wrestling with a different issue as he stood on a sidewalk in Hogsmeade. He had told Hermione he needed to go out and get some butterbeer as Bill, Fred and George would be coming over later to see what was inside the cylinder or to help them open it, whatever came first. He had every intention on following through and buying a few bottles, but he also needed to get to Jasmine's Jems right when they opened. As he walked down the sidewalk towards the small out of the way jewelry shop, he could see Jasmine herself flip a sign that now read OPEN. Harry hurried inside just in time to see the tall, red haired witch disappear in to a back room, then come out again carrying a tray of sparkling necklaces.

“Good morning Mister Potter! Merlin, you are prompt!”

“Thanks. I had to sneak out under the guise of butterbeer,” Harry took the outstretched hand and shook it firmly. She had an amazing grip and he wondered how she could create such fine jewelry and not break each and every piece. “I'm guessing you got my message I owled last night?”

“Well, if it worked, that's all that matters! Yes I did and I believe I came up with something you might like. Now, you told me you wanted a platinum engagement ring, not too flashy, and with her birthstones incorporated right?”

Harry nodded, his stomach fluttering at the word “engagement”. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. And it was all Ron's fault…truly.

The night before, after Hermione had fallen asleep next to him, Harry had laid awake, tossing and turning and finally decided to head to Hogwarts and see if Ron was around. He just to update him on the cylinder and see how his friend was doing.

Three hours later (with only a half hour being a conversation pertaining to the cylinder) Ron and Harry had talked about Quidditch, school, Ginny, and how weird it was that she might be with Draco. Then, Ron had asked the big question.

“Are you going to marry Hermione?”

Harry stared at his friend across from him in the DADA classroom, not sure if he had heard him correctly. Ron grinned at the surprised look on Harry's face and repeated the question.

“Uh…I haven't really thought…,” Harry started but Ron interrupted him.

“Oh, come on! She's perfect for you. You've known each other forever, you're now sleeping with her I'm sure,” a typical Harry blush accompanied Ron's statement, “and no one can see either of you with anyone else. If you are sleeping with her and now living with her, I wouldn't string her along. You know how she is about things.”

“Yeah, I know…I mean…I can't really see myself living without her,” Harry hedged, the idea taking full bloom in his head. It amazed him how warm and happy he felt when thinking about her, with him, for the rest of their lives.

“So, what're you waiting for? If you ask her over the summer, then you could be married over Christmas, take your honeymoon and come back to school a happily married couple!” Ron told him, pointing to Harry's calendar which still said June. Harry nodded, staring at the calendar thinking about what it would feel like to ask Hermione to marry him.

“Ron…it's just weird. I mean, you were with her longer than I have been,” Harry started seeing Ron shake his head.

“You've known her a year longer than I have—if you take into account my death, and if you want to get specific about it. You and I can also see how she has matured over the past year. I couldn't ever really see myself marrying her. We were in one of those “first serious relationship” scenes and now we aren't.” Ron actually used his fingers as quotes causing Harry to stifle a laugh. He had never seen his friend so conversational about relationships before. “But…as I see the two of you interact and how you basically predict each other's movements, I know you two were meant for each other. Nothing would make me happier than to see the two of you live happily ever after, to be cliché,” Ron told Harry.

“Yeah…me too and now that you mentioned it, the whole idea seems so…,” Harry let his eyes wander around, trying to find the words to portray how it made him feel to think about marrying his best friend. “I guess it just all of a sudden feels so right.”

“Do you think you could surprise her? No one has ever managed to do that before,” Ron mused. They were silent for awhile as Harry thought through what he was doing. He knew this was one of the biggest steps in his young life and to surprise Hermione? Well, that would be the icing on the cake.

“I think I can, if I act quickly. If I can get the ring done and propose to her on my birthday, then she would never suspect anything. I mean…who gives someone else a present on their own birthday?”

Ron laughed, which was music to Harry's ears. He had missed his friend so much he wasn't sure how he ever managed to survive the past year.

“Good luck…and go home before she wonders where you are. Keep me posted, mate!”

And so, Harry was bent over the counter looking at three different rings that were on display before him. All were platinum; all had diamonds one carat in weight but that's where the similarities stopped. Harry was truly amazed at the talent Jasmine had in creating a ring for someone she didn't even know. The middle one was seemed to be calling out to Harry. In addition to the sapphire slivers on either side of the ring, Jasmine had added a small ruby between the diamond and sapphires. There were two…and Harry thought of Ron and Ginny when he saw them; that this was everything coming full circle. They were all together, maybe not in this plane of existence but in each other's memories…and a plane Harry had yet to visit. He also knew that ruby was his birthstone and before he could stop himself, he pointed to the middle one.

“I'll take that one.”

And just like that, fifteen minutes later Harry had paid in full for Hermione engagement ring. Now, as it was tucked safely in his pocket, he managed to remember to grab a case of butter beer and then hurried back home before she suspected anything.

---

Hermione was quiet most of the morning as she poured over books looking for anything on “Potter” and “Prophecy” and Harry was nervous about having such an enormous question looming in his head. But, both were so focused on the cylinder, neither one really noticed the other one was acting out of sorts.

“This is ridiculous,” Harry finally said, exasperated as he tugged on the stopper for the umpteenth time. “I think I could use as simple reducto curse and have this stopper out of here.”

“I'm not sure that's the best idea, Harry. You might ruin what's inside,” Hermione walked over to where he as laying on the sofa, the cylinder was in his hands which were resting on his stomach. “Do you think that maybe we could shrink just the stopper?” Hermione asked reaching for the cylinder. Harry handed it to her and shrugged.

“Maybe if one of us put a shielding charm on the cylinder and the other used a shrinking charm on the stopper, we might be able to do it,” Harry thought aloud as he watched Hermione roll it between her hands.

“Do you want to try it? I don't think that would hurt anything. Worse thing that could happen is that it doesn't work,” Harry continued as he sat up and moved next to Hermione, where she was standing near the window.

“I agree…okay. Do you want to shield or shrink?”

“I'll shield,” Harry took his wand out of his pocket at the same time Hermione pulled hers out. Carefully, she set the cylinder down on the floor and they took a few steps away from it and each other. Their eyes met and Harry nodded that he was ready. Pointing his wand at the cylinder he silently cast the shielding charm while Hermione carefully aimed her wand at the black stopper. Slowly, Harry could see the black stopper begin to move, so slightly and if he wasn't so focused on it at the moment, he was sure he probably would never have noticed if he just happened to glance in the cylinder's direction.

A slight sucking sound reached his ears and, suddenly, the stopper dropped out and rolled away. Simultaneously, Harry and Hermione raised their wands and looked at each other.

“Good job,” Harry praised and saw a blush reach her cheeks as she smiled at him.

“Thanks, now let's see what's in there!”

Harry pocketed his wand and reached for the cylinder, his eyes straying to the clock on his wall.

11:07 am was the time. He wasn't sure why he noted that, but for some reason it seemed important to him. He reached for Hermione's hand and tugged her down next to him, then shook the cylinder, upside down into his hand. Easily, a piece of rolled parchment slid onto his hand.

“Wow, that looks pretty old, just like the cylinder hinted,” Hermione murmured, leaning over and seeing nothing else in the tube. Carefully, Harry flicked his hand under the wax seal, which was a fancy red “P” pressed into the wax and unrolled it. It was only eight inches or so long and about five inches wide.

“Thankfully, nothing too exotic happened, like last night. Don't think I could do that again,” Harry sighed feeling Hermione shift beside him.

“Read it aloud!” Hermione whispered excitedly, grabbing his knee. Harry cleared his throat and began reading the carefully penned words.

“Magic follows no man's will
Heeds no man's call, no wish fulfills
No Wizard masters all its skills
Its secrets writ by no man's quill

The source a mystery of old
Hidden well in tales foretold
Wizards wise will ere behold
Their magic's borrowed, not bestowed

Alas the time shall come to pass
When magic folk will live to ask
The meaning of their earthly task
As evil grows and sheds its mask

Amongst their number will it show
And though they may search high and low
The answer they'll already know
Twixt pride and blood no love can grow

The true creator will ensure
That balance always does endure
By price of magic Wizards' secure
Their sacrifice will be the cure

There'll come then a branch of ancient tree
Marked to all by eyes of green
Whose fate will ever after be
Ensuring balance magically

A mother's love will light flame
To fight the evil without name
The one who lived will know well pain
A pawn in other's faceless games

Blows to the heart must 'ere be met
And darkness shunned while light is kept
'Til Seven wicked shades that slept
Are vanquished, and from this world then swept

Still will the victor know great loss
And friendships two will bear the cost
Despair will be his constant cross
While graves of loved ones gather moss

If true love can be found again
By Wizarding's Savior, only then
Will Prophecy the future bend
And balance restore their world to them

Their children ever after, too
Born of love unquestioned true
Will bear amongst them one that who
With eyes of green will carry through.”

--H. Potter-Trelawney

“Trelawney? What the hell?” Hermione and Harry voiced at the same time, looking at each other in amazement. Harry's heart was beating rapidly as he tried to make sense of the poetic words that filled his head.

“I don't think I got it all the first time around,” Hermione voiced and Harry handed it to her, feeling like he was in a daze. She began reading it aloud again, slowly. As she read, a tone of awe filled her voice. Now being the second time hearing it Harry truly realized what this was. Someone from Professor Trelawney's family was related to him. She, or he, had written this prophecy and once he heard “marked to all by eyes of green” he realized this was about him.

“Well…this basically predicted everything that you and your family have gone through,” Hermione said quietly, running a finger gently down the parchment.

“I'm still struggling to understand it all. Once I heard “eyes of green” I knew it was about me,” Harry added, reaching in front of him for the cylinder and looking at it carefully.

“Well, in short it talks about where our magic comes from, then talks about your mother's love and how that gave you protection…and if you go on to here,” Hermione tilted the parchment towards him and pointed to the eighth stanza, “it's about the Horcruxes and that you rid every single one of them…but in the process of that and Voldemort's followers being around, we lost two loved ones, Ron and Ginny, then goes on about how true love will be found again.” Hermione lifted her eyes to Harry who looked at her evenly, knowing that there was a very expensive ring upstairs in his room, hidden. Taking a deep breath he looked to where she was pointing now. She had been running her finger down as she explained each part of the prophecy.

“So, after all this…everything we have gone through,” Harry started, his eyes wandering further down, “our children will continue to keep good over evil and one will have green eyes?” Harry questioned, startled to hear a small hiccup sound come from Hermione. He glanced at her and saw her staring at the parchment.

“What is it?” Harry touched her hand and she gave her head a small shake then a small nod, confusing Harry even more.

“You said…you said our children,” she whispered, blinking back tears that threatened to spill over. Her hand clenched the paper a bit harder as Harry gave a small, uncomfortable squirm next to her.

`What if I'm wrong? What if she doesn't want to spend the rest of her life with me?' he said to himself. Outwardly, though, he managed a stuttered reply.

“Well…I just thought…I mean I assumed…I know you shouldn't assume but I thought at some point you and I-,” Harry began then fell silent as she lifted her head and looked straight at him. He felt his heart jump as he saw the look in her eyes. There were tears glistening in the corners and she looked almost scared and happy at the same time. “Am I wrong?” Harry whispered, hoping she would tell him if he was. He would rather find out now, than on his birthday.

“No,” Hermione whispered, shaking her head and carefully placing the parchment on the ground. She leaned over and he met her hug halfway, drawing her to him, “Not at all.” She buried her face in his shoulder and forced herself to bring her emotions under control.

Now she knew he thought they would be together in the future. He had thought about them having children and with that truth a great wave of relief washed over her. She felt his hands rubbing her back and she nestled closer, realizing now how much she had gone through to be with him, at this moment.

Now, she could stop wondering what she could get him for his birthday, because she had the one thing no one else had, or would ever have, to give him. And as she pulled back and saw the seriousness in his eyes she gently pushed him back onto the rug. And, right there on the floor, showed him how much she loved him.

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19. Lady in Red

Lady in Red

Previously, at the end of Chapter 18:

`What if I'm wrong? What if she doesn't want to spend the rest of her life with me?' he said to himself. Outwardly, though, he managed a stuttered reply.

“Well…I just thought…I mean I assumed…I know you shouldn't assume but I thought at some point you and I-,” Harry began then fell silent as she lifted her head and looked straight at him. He felt his heart jump as he saw the look in her eyes. There were tears glistening in the corners and she looked almost scared and happy at the same time. “Am I wrong?” Harry whispered, hoping she would tell him if he was. He would rather find out now, than on his birthday.

“No,” Hermione whispered, shaking her head and carefully placing the parchment on the ground. She leaned over and he met her hug halfway, drawing her to him, “Not at all.” She buried her face in his shoulder and forced herself to bring her emotions under control.

Now she knew he thought they would be together in the future. He had thought about them having children and with that truth a great wave of relief washed over her. She felt his hands rubbing her back and she nestled closer, realizing now how much she had gone through to be with him, at this moment.

Now, she could stop wondering what she could get him for his birthday, because she had the one thing no one else had, or would ever have, to give him. And as she pulled back and saw the seriousness in his eyes she gently pushed him back onto the rug. And, right there on the floor, showed him how much she loved him.

-----

Harry stared at the ceiling of his living room, not quite believing that he and Hermione had just shagged each other's brains out. They hadn't even taken the time to remove their shirts and the Prophecy lay in the same spot where he had carefully set it down. It was her fault they ended up half naked. She had began the whole thing with a hug.

One of them had pulled the blanket off the sofa and it was now draped over their lower bodies. Hermione was lying next to him, their fingers loosely intertwined as their breathing slowed down to a somewhat normal pace.

“I think it might be time for a nap,” Harry mumbled feeling very lazy and satiated.

“Men,” was all Hermione said as she pulled herself up and looked down at him. His glasses had long been discarded and she searched his bright green eyes, briefly wondering if their baby would have the same ones. According to the Prophecy, they were to have “children” and it could be this one or the next with green eyes.

“I am man. Here me snore,” Harry responded cheekily, feeling her fingers lift up his bangs as she gazed at his scar, laughing softly.

“Can you believe Neville and Luna will be married in two weeks?” Hermione asked as she shifted her gaze from his scar to his mouth. Harry shook his head slightly.

“I never really thought about Neville marrying anyone until he said he was dating Luna last year. Then it all kind of fell into place and made sense, for the two of them to be together.”

“Do you think it was always meant for them to be together?” Hermione asked her fingers taking up a soothing rhythm as she brushed back his hair. Harry let his eyes close and shook his head.

“Luna told me when I first moved in that it had been meant for Ginny and Neville, me and you, then Ron and her to live happily ever after, to be cliché. It was in the stars, so to speak, and she chastised me for not paying full attention in Astronomy class. She said that the Death Eaters changed the way it was supposed to work out. I think she was also a bit pissed that she didn't foresee that one coming.”

Harry then realized Hermione's fingers had stopped moving a gentle path through his hair and he squinted up at her to see the oddest expression on her face.

“What? I just now remembered it or I would've told you earlier,” Harry began a bit defensively.

“No, it's not that. I'm just wondering if that was the way it was supposed to be, then why did you get together with Ginny and me with Ron? Why not just skip all that?”

“Dunno,” Harry answered letting his eyes fall back closed. “Maybe so we could feel the different kinds of love that are out there.”

Hermione was quiet for a moment, her hand falling to his shoulder. “Maybe you're right. My feelings for you are quite different than they were…are…for Ron.”

“Same here,” Harry agreed feeling the beginning stage of sleep creep up on him.

“You aren't going to fall asleep on me are you?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, at least put your pants back on, Harry.”

Harry felt around blindly for his pants and boxers and with a wave of his wand they were on in no time. He felt Hermione's lips press against his forehead as he turned onto his side, feeling a pillow being slipped under his head.

“I love you,” she whispered in his ear, feeling his hand come up and cup her face.

“I love you,” Harry whispered right back letting his hand trail down her arm to her hand where he squeezed it lightly. The last thing he remembered was the dull clinking sound of Hermione picking up the cylinder and placing it on the table.

---

Harry tugged at his tie in the mirror, pulled the knot out and began again. In about an hour they were to meet Hermione's parents in London for a quiet birthday dinner. She had told him that her gift to him would be given later that night and he let his mind run wild a bit wondering exactly what that would mean. He was just happy that she had no idea about the ring hidden in the back of his wardrobe underneath an old Quidditch shirt. The only other person who knew what he was planning, besides Ron, was Neville, and probably Luna too. She had come over with Neville, the twins, Lavender and Katie two nights before and they had read and pondered The Prophecy. Luna had dragged Hermione into the kitchen to show her something and Harry took that moment to tell Neville, as the twins and their respective partners had gone to the basement to check out where the cylinder had been hidden. Neville had given him a hard clap on the back and told him how happy he was, and volunteered any advice in the wedding department as theirs wasn't too far away.

The following day was taken up with trying to find Phinneas, who managed to avoid them probably guessing that they were going to come ask him how he managed to get the Potter Prophecy. In the end, they found Ron and explained what they had found. He had promised to see if he could corner Phinneas and question him, to which Harry was grateful. He was getting tired, and a bit pissed off, that this dead person was avoiding him and Hermione by hiding between portraits.

“Harry?”

“Come in,” Harry answered as he tugged his tie into place and tucked his shirt into his pants. She opened the door and he could see her reverse image in his mirror. For a moment, he forgot what he was doing. She was standing in his doorway in a dark red dress. Spaghetti straps divided her smooth neck and her slender shoulders and it hugged her curves in a way that Harry had never seen before. He had seen her naked, had run his hands along her many times in the past few weeks, but knowing what was under there and seeing how lovely she looked in the simple red dress, and the fact that she had on matching dress shoes had rendered him speechless for the moment.

“Harry? Say something,” Hermione walked in and touched his arm, seeing how his eyes followed her form in the mirror. He turned around and looked down at her, gently touching her hair which barely went past her shoulders in waves of curls.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered, smiling as she flushed. Placing her hands on his chest she ran a finger down his tie.

“Thanks. Lavender helped me pick it out.”

“Lavender is one of my favorite people right now,” Harry murmured resting his hands on her hips and feeling a pull to run to his wardrobe and grab the ring.

`Why the hell not?' a little voice questioned in his head, sounding very much like Ron Weasley.

`Shouldn't I wait until after dinner or something? I need to think about-,' Harry's thoughts were cut off as she stood up and placed her lips on his in what was supposed to be a quick kiss. But it didn't take more than a second for Hermione to be pulled closer to Harry and to be kissed harder than she had ever been kissed before. Hermione had the fleeting thought she was glad she chose not to wear lipstick or they'd be a mess.

“How much longer,” Harry gasped as he came up for breath. His voice was so quiet Hermione had to push past the blood pulsing in her ears to hear what he said.

“Until what?”

“We meet your parents?” Harry brushed his lips across her forehead and carefully hugged her, willing his voice to not shake as he realized he was only a few feet away from the rest of his life.

“An hour. But if you're thinking about getting in that bed-,” Hermione began, letting her hands rub his back.

“Well, I'm always thinking that but I know now is not the time to shag you into oblivion.” He heard her gasp then laugh at his boldness. “I just…I have something for you and wanted to make sure I had time to give it to you and all,” he finished in a rush closing his eyes for a moment and pulling away slightly. He didn't want her to feel how fast his heart was beating.

“It's your birthday, Harry. Why would you have something for me?” Hermione pulled away and felt Harry steer her to his bed, indicating she should sit.

“Why not? It's not my birthday, technically, yet. Just sit there, close your eyes or something so you can't see,” Harry touched her cheek and she sighed but complied and shut her eyes. Harry quietly accio'd the ring from his wardrobe, caught it and flipped open the round box. He took a deep, quiet breath and pulled it out letting it hang on his finger for a moment. He had purchased the ring with the automatic sizing spell placed on it because he truly didn't know what ring size her fingers were. He sat down next to Hermione and took her hand softly. She laced her fingers through his and asked if she could open her eyes yet.

“Not yet…,” Harry said quietly, gently removing his hand from hers since it was her left he was holding. He had no speech prepared. She knew he loved her and Harry knew she loved him. He could see it in the way she was always touching him, the way she listened when he just needed to vent about something, the defiant way she promised him nothing was going to take him from her. So, taking a deep breath he pulled her hand onto his lap, slid the ring on her finger and asked that four worded question.

“Will you marry me?”

He was watching her face, his heart beating wildly. She managed a strangled gasp at the same time her eyes flew open. Slowly, she pulled her hand off his lap. For a brief second her shocked brown eyes met his then swung down to her hand.

“What?” she asked dumbly and Harry bit back a laugh, taking in this moment. She was shocked speechless and she just stared at the ring on her hand. Harry knew he didn't need to repeat the question; that she was just now processing what he had asked. The fingers on her right hand touched the ring and traced the edges, then paused on the rubies that were placed on either side.

She couldn't believe this was happening. She had hoped it would, some day, probably further down the road, possibly after the baby was born. But the timing had completely surprised her.

“Do you know-,” Hermione choked out, almost asking if he knew that she was pregnant. But he had interrupted before she could finish.

“Know what?” he asked quickly, wondering if giving into the little voice in his head had been a good idea.

He didn't know…how could he? Luna was the only one who knew and she promised Hermione that she wouldn't say anything to Harry. Not even to Neville---at least until after the party. If Neville got drunk, he would surely let it slip.

Quickly, Hermione changed her thoughts and looked at him, tears shining in her eyes. She laid a hand against his cheek and bringing his head down to hers, pressed her forehead against his.

“Do you know how much I love you?”

Harry gave a shaky smile. “I think so…that's why I asked and…because I know how much I love you.”

Hermione swiped a tear away from her cheek and nodded slightly.

“Yes, I will,” she whispered and felt his lips touch hers, the salt from her tears getting trapped between their lips.

“Good, I was hoping you'd say that,” Harry said against her lips, pulling her down onto the bed with him, kissing her softly. For the next half hour they laid next to each other, kissing softly and looking at each other with new eyes…trying to wrap their minds around the terms “fiancée”. Both laughed as the words “husband” and “wife” were mentioned; it felt so strange for those words to be coming off their tongues.

Before they left Harry's room however, Hermione tugged his arm, making him turn around in the doorway and look down at her.

“Many girls would've been ecstatic to become Missus Harry Potter…I'm just happy and a bit surprised, still, that it's me.” Hermione looked at him a bit shyly which was an emotion he had never seen before. He never really thought of all the females out there who wanted his attention. He never really knew how jealous some where when he dated Ginny. He could see some of the looks they would get when they'd be out walking or eating together, but he never thought about anything beyond that moment of jealousy.

But since the death of two dear friends, he had been truly focused on Hermione the past year. First as his anchor and pretty much he thought, his savior, then as someone who settled deeper into his life than anyone had ever been. And now this woman was his future wife. He was going to get married; five years ago he never thought he'd live to see twenty, let alone twenty-one and being engaged.

“It's you…it's always been you,” Harry replied simply, feeling his heart constrict as she smiled and then hugged him. They clung to each other for a moment, each trying to get their footing on this new ground, then headed outside. Now, it was time for Hermione to give Harry a surprise, or two, of his own.

----

Only a few minutes had passed from the time Harry and Hermione stepped out of Harry's bedroom until Ginny saw them walking hand and hand down the walkway. She didn't know what made her glance down at their hands, but she did and there she saw it. There was no hiding Hermione's engagement ring, and from the slightly stunned look on Hermione's face and the way Harry kept looking down at her, Ginny knew it had just happened.

She was happy for them, she really was and as they turned the corner, getting ready to disapparate to where ever they were going Harry turned and asked Hermione the name of the restaurant again. He happened to look up at the tree where Ginny was “perched” and for a moment their eyes met. Ginny swore he could see her, and if she had been human she would've fallen off the branch. Just for a second their eyes locked and she believed he saw her. His eyes widened a bit then a small smile touched his mouth as Hermione touched Harry's arm and with a small “pop” they vanished. For a moment, Ginny sat stunned in the tree. He had seen her, somehow…hadn't he? She felt a sense of relief fall over her and she realized that she saw how happy they were, they were moving on and now, it was time she moved on too.

A moment later, Ginny found herself in the dungeons searching for Draco. She needed to find him and talk to him about her feeling of peacefulness and that her issues were laid to rest. She also had to find Nick and see what kind of ceremony they had to do, if any, for her to move on to Echo. She wanted to go and see who else was there; she was curious about that world and how it worked. Nick had said it was populated by witches and wizards whose lives were cut short by a tragedy. As she had these thoughts swirling in her head she found Draco in the dining hall talking to Nearly Headless Nick. The Bloody Baron was sulking in the corner for some reason, but she ignored him and moved towards the head table where she saw Draco.

“Hello, Ginny,” Nick said nodding in her direction.

“I'm ready,” she said breathlessly, feeling the first stirs of excitement.

“You are?” Draco and Nick asked at the same time with an element of surprise in their voices.

“I am. I just saw them. They're engaged now and looking happier than I have ever seen them. And, I swear Harry saw me,” Ginny rushed on, ignoring the skeptical look on Draco's face. Ginny relayed what had happened to Nick and how Harry had seemed to look right up at her. How he had given her a small smile then disapparated (to some magical place so they could go from there to the Muggle restaurant she had heard of once or twice) with Hermione.

“Well,” Nick said thoughtfully stroking his chin, “He might've sensed you there. Especially if you were so overcome with emotion you moved the branch or something.”

Ginny hadn't thought about that possibility. She might have moved something or made some sound. The intense feeling that had rushed through her once she saw Hermione's ring had been almost too much for her to bear.

“So, then you feel you are ready for Echo?”

Ginny nodded moving up a bit further next to Draco. “Are you going for sure?” she asked him and him nodded wordlessly, turning and following Nick as he beckoned them out of the dining hall.

Quietly, the two followed him up the stairs and down the hall towards the Room of Requirement. Nick waited for them to catch up and when they did the three of them floated through the door into a small, plain room. There was something that looked like a crystal ball in the corner that emanated a faint bluish color. Ginny peered into it and noticed clouds swirling around a blue sky. It was larger than the crystal balls Trewlaney had; this was the double the size of a Muggle basketball.

“What is that?”

“Where you two are going,” Nick came over and the three of them stood around it.

“You can see Echo through that?” Draco asked a bit hesitantly. All he and Ginny could see were clouds slowly moving across the sky within.

“Well, just the sky. All you need to do is place your hands on there, hold each other's free hands, I'll say some words and you'll be pulled in. Very similar to a portkey, but a bit rougher of a landing. There will be someone waiting for you on the other side as you will fall into an area where newcomers always go first. Then, that person will explain everything to you and I won't see you again until Halloween, if you so wish to come back and visit for a brief time.”

Ginny felt Draco's hand brush hers and she reached for it, holding tight.

“That's all? Nothing more…complicated?” Draco asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Nope.”

Draco turned to Ginny and addressed her. “I still need to find out how those babies are doing. Then I'm ready. Do you want to go now or do this together?”

Ginny smiled and squeezed his hand, then let it drop.

“Together. I want to hear how those babies are doing, too.”

“And when will this be?” Nick asked politely, knowing what they were talking about, but also knowing it wasn't his business to advise Draco on it.

“August first…that evening we'll be ready,” Draco answered quickly.

“Okay then. We'll meet at the door at six in the evening on the first. That's…what? Three and a half days from now?”

Ginny nodded and again followed Nick through the door. He stopped in the hallway outside the Room of Requirement and turned on his horse to address them.

“There's no turning back after this. So, you have three days to make sure you want to go to Echo. You can stay here as a ghost, like Ron, or just give all that up and see what lies beyond. Being limbo as Light isn't fun for very long.”

“No,” Ginny said quickly, “No, it's not. And, yes, Echo is what I want.”

Draco nodded in agreement.

“Well then, it's a date. I'll get things set up on the other side, make sure someone is there to meet you. They only get new witches and wizards a few times a month, so I don't want you dropping in unannounced.”

“Thanks….I think,” Draco said as Nick turned and floated through an outside wall. They watched him leave then at the same time turned to each other.

“Well, we have three days…anything special you wanted to do? Not that we can do much anyway,” Draco said sarcastically, shoving his pale hands into his shorts pockets.

“I have no idea…I'm still just…stunned at how quickly I gave up Harry.”

“Well…you knew you needed just “one more thing” and I guess them getting married is it, for you.”

“I guess so…and, I'll still get to hear how they're doing every year,” Ginny justified, already making plans in her head to find out how to come visit over Halloween.

“Yes, you will. Well, I think I'm going to head to Malfoy Manor and visit my mother one last time.”

“Do you want company or would you rather do it alone?” Ginny asked, hoping he'd say that he'd prefer the first thing she had asked. Instead, he did the typical Malfoy thing.

He shrugged.

“If you want to come, that's fine.”

So, Ginny took that as a `yes' and followed him to visit his mother and Pansy. She wondered if Pansy would be able to see or notice his presence as Harry had with her.

She had never felt as complete over the past year as she did at this moment. Harry and Hermione were happy. Draco was going to Echo so she wouldn't be alone. Ron seemed to be doing alright. Her family was moving on and she would have a niece, thanks to Bill and Fleur, to add to her status as Aunt in a few more months.

She wasn't sure if she could be any happier.

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20. Surprise!

A/N: I was going to add Draco and Ginny to this, but knew you all were so eager to get to the part where Hermione broke her news, that I posted this with out it. The next chapter will open with Draco and Ginny and their big “move”. Thanks for all the reviews! I was so happy to get above 400, I never thought that would happen! And now, here you go…

---

Surprise!

“What do you think could be wrong with Crookshanks?” Harry asked as they hurried up his walkway.

They had just sat down and were waiting for Hermione's parents when someone had tapped Hermione on the shoulder and passed her a note. It had been delivered via Owl to the magical post office in London, but someone had hand delivered it to her at the Muggle restaurant. Harry had never felt his nerves fire off so fast; he thought something was seriously wrong with her parents or one of the Weasley's being that the note was hand delivered. He managed to hide his relief when she said it was from Lavender and about her cat. He almost felt guilty that this time, the problem was with an animal, not a human…magical or Muggle.

“I don't know. Maybe he ate something he shouldn't have,” Hermione answered, clutching his hand as she walked quickly up the dark driveway. Her nervousness was apparent to Harry but little did he know that it didn't have anything to do with Crookshanks.

“What about your parents?” Harry had asked as they had hurried out of the restaurant. She told him she had let the waitress know what to say if they showed up, so Harry, having his question answered followed her dutifully to the alley they could disapparate from and quickly found himself at the bottom of his driveway.

Lavender was sitting on his porch, and Harry said hello, noticing she was still wearing her work clothes. He found that a bit odd being that she usually was done working around five or so. He noticed it looked a bit like Ginny's favorite item of clothing, a soft light weight green robe with gold trim. He turned his attention to the cat in her arms, Ginny momentarily forgotten. She was holding Crookshanks, who appeared to be asleep, safely to her chest.

“How is he?” Hermione asked, not having to force any nervousness into her voice. She knew there were well over twenty people waiting inside the dark house and wondered what Harry's reaction was going to be. She hoped it wasn't a heart attack.

“Sleeping. I came over to drop off that robe you wanted,” Lavender nodded to a bag sitting against the door, “and found him meowing pitifully at the front door. Should we take him inside?”

“Better light in there,” Harry murmured, waving his wand at the door. The door creaked open and he held the door, bending down to retrieve the bag and ushering Lavender through followed by Hermione who now had Crookshanks. As soon as Harry stepped inside and turned to close the door, someone flicked on the lights suspended from the walls and ceiling and he heard a roar of voices yelling at him.

“Surprise!” was the only thing that registered in his stunned mind as he jumped back so far he ran into the door. His hands went numb and he dropped the bag he was holding as he stared at the sight in front of him. Hermione was standing to the side; Crookshanks now happily licking her hand so she let him down. He barely had time to register that he saw Seamus and Dean in the sea of faces in front of him, before Fred and George were clapping him on the shoulders and steering him towards the Butterbeer and Firewhiskey in the kitchen. Harry turned around as the twins guided him down the hall and locked eyes with Hermione who just smiled widely at him. He pointed at her and mouthed something that she thought was, “You will pay.” Laughing, she smoothed down her dress and went to find her parents to share the good news…that they were going to be gaining a son-in-law; and soon she'd tell them a grandchild, as well.

“So, are you as surprised as you look?” Katie asked giving Harry a quick hug. He found himself with a Butterbeer in hand and his tie discarded and he had only been standing in the kitchen for five minutes.

“Merlin yes, I'm surprised. I had no idea you all did this. The whole Crookshanks ruse worked great,” Harry gave a nod towards Lavender who was talking with George near the cooling cabinet. “I can't believe some of these people are here! I haven't seen Dean in forever…Seamus too.” Harry grinned as Dean came over and shook hands with him. They chatted Quidditch and progressively had to talk louder as the music started, courtesy of Bill's wireless. He had come over and given Harry Fleur's regrets for not making his party. She wasn't feeling well and was home sleeping off a headache. Harry was about to tell him he didn't have to stay when Hermione brought her parents over to him, then got pulled away by Luna.

“Harry, congratulations! One surprise deserves another I suppose,” Mr. Granger shook hands with Harry and noticed the confused look on Lavender and Dean's faces.

“He didn't tell you?” Mr. Granger asked his eyebrows shooting up above his glasses. A few more heads turned in Harry's direction, as Harry tried to explain he was now engaged. But Fred jumped in quickly, not liking to be left out of any type of news.

“What didn't he tell us?” Fred asked quickly, walking over to the small group.

“Seems he proposed to Hermione this evening,” Mrs. Granger said, tucking her arm through her husband's. Fred let out a whoop so loud it quieted everyone. George took advantage of the quiet and yelled the exact words Hermione's mother just uttered. Cheers and yells were heard and Harry felt that he had never been hugged so much in his life. He tried to find Hermione but she was in the corner with most of the females gushing over her ring.

Secretly, he was happy with how well the four Weasley men took it. He knew they had been happy he and Ginny dated and in his mind he knew that they had thought of him dating someone else. Being it was Hermione he hoped it had softened the blow that it was Hermione he proposed to and never Ginny. Arthur came up and shook Harry's hand, looking genuinely happy. Molly just kept waving a hand in his direction, dabbing at the tears running down her face. He knew she always thought of him like a son and she was surely acting like it was one of her own getting married.

After Harry had made his rounds to friends he hadn't seen in awhile and talked to Remus, Bill guided him over to the birthday cake. It was three layers, one floating over another and the candles on top looked suspiciously like the ones Ron got on his cake from Fred and George three years ago. A piece was magically cut and Harry had to only use a bit of magic to get the candles to extinguish; after cake was consumed the dancing, card games, chess games and some flying outside moved the night along until well past mid-night.

That evening was the best of Harry's life. He couldn't believe that Hermione had managed to pull this off and that all his friends managed to keep it a secret. He wasn't much of a dancer but to be a good sport he let Lavender, then Katie, pull him out onto the dance floor. He managed to get in one slow dance with Hermione and it wasn't until they were half way through the song that he realized that everyone had left them alone on the floor and were just watching the two of them. He met George's gaze who gave him the thumbs up which made Harry blush. He didn't want attention called to himself, but it seemed inevitable at the moment. Hermione's parents were also watching him dance with their daughter and when it was over, they had come over and talked a bit before leaving. He received a hug from each parent and a teary smile and kiss on the cheek from Hermione's mother. They made plans to get together within the week to discuss wedding plans, which still seemed to be foreign words to Harry's young ears.

But, after six hours of drinking and dancing, games and some fun with the Weasley twins' toys, the night slowly dwindled down to ten people, then five and finally Neville and Luna were the last to leave. Luna gave him an extra long hug and kiss on the cheek which was highly unusual. Harry chalked it up to the four Butterbeers and shot of firewhiskey she did and made sure they disapparated safely home before he shut and locked his front door. He heard Hermione shut the door to the bathroom, so he went and sat down for the first time in hours.

----

Harry slouched in his favorite chair in the living room, his feet aching from walking and being forced to dance with his female friends. His head was buzzing slightly from the drinking that went along with his surprise party. He noticed Hermione seemed to be moving aimlessly around the room waving her wand in areas to clean them up. The clock struck two and Harry called out to her. She stopped and glanced at him.

“Come here,” he crooked his finger at her and watched her walk over in bare feet. Her shoes were kicked off when Fred decided to try and spin her while dancing. One shoe ended up in the fireplace and she had yet to locate the other one. He reached for her and she settled down in his lap, laying her cheek against the side of his head and mentally preparing herself to tell him the big news.

“Thank you for the party…I now know what you meant by an unwrappable gift,” Harry kissed her neck, feeling Hermione nod but keeping strangely quiet and he picked up on her quietness. Even through the buzzing in his head he knew it wasn't related to her being tired.

“What's wrong?” he asked quietly feeling her arms come around his shoulders. He felt her take a deep breath then let it out slowly, making him wonder what she was feeling and why it was taking her so long to reply.

“There really isn't any easy, fancy way to tell you this,” Hermione started her voice so quiet he thought something horrible had happened.

“What? Are you okay? Is someone sick or something?” Harry asked urgently pulling away and turning her face towards his. What he saw etched in her face concerned him even further. Her eyes were dark and there was a certain set of her mouth that let him know she was struggling to keep her feelings inside. “Tell me, Hermione…you're really starting to scare me.” He watched her gaze fall to her hands in her lap then she told him, her voice low and wavering.

“I'm pregnant.”

For a moment Harry thought he heard her wrong and tried to think of other words that sounded like “pregnant” that she might've said: pageant, remnant, but none of them fit her mood or context of the statement.

“You're pregnant?” he repeated back to her, just to be sure he heard correctly and when she nodded he felt a wave of light headedness hit him. He could blame it on being slightly drunk, but if he was being honest with himself, it was the news that threw him for a loop. He tried to pull himself together, to let her know she shouldn't be worried and upset. Covering her hand with his he whispered her name and she finally looked up at him.

“Can you give me some more details?” He had “when” and “how far” floating through his head but his instincts were telling him to remain calm and to try and deal with this rationally. He really just wanted to get up and scream, “How in the world? We did the charm wrong?” but knew she'd really be upset if he did that.

“Well,” Hermione cleared her throat and moved a bit in his lap, letting her gaze rest on the arm of the chair. “It looks like when you let all your magical control go you can override many charms, including the Contraception Charm. So, it happened the first time we had sex. So, I'm almost three weeks along. Early, but it's there.”

“So…you being tired wasn't all jet lag related then? Is that why you went to the doctor?” Harry asked gently, pulling her to him so he could wrap his arms around her tightly. He felt a strange sensation descend upon him as the thought that Hermione was carrying his baby began to edge its way into his conscious.

“Yes. It was when you went to eat with Pansy. I told you I was going to the bookstore, and…oh, Harry, it was so hard to lie to you. THEN, when I found out I didn't know what to do. I mean, I knew I had to tell you but I wanted it to be when you weren't running around getting your Quidditch club in order, or dealing with the Prophecy…I hope I didn't ruin your party,” she whispered and was surprised to feel Harry push her off his lap and stand up, holding her shoulders giving her a little shake. She looked up at him and could see the slightly stunned expression in his eyes but he was looking steadily at her, locking her gaze with his.

“You didn't ruin anything. We're adults, Hermione, and if I had known this was going to happen I wouldn't have done it. I would never purposefully upset you, your plans-,” he began and Hermione could sense he was going to start feeling sorry for her and blame himself; she needed to stop him.

“Plans are made to be changed Harry. We made need some time to adjust but…it happened and there isn't anything we can do. Well, there IS but I'm not going to do that,” Hermione silenced him, as she placed a finger over his lips.

“You thought of…terminating?” Harry asked, shocked, from behind her finger and was relieved when she shook her head adamantly.

“Not at all. That never entered my mind. I can't imagine me having a child with anyone but you, I just wasn't thinking it was going to happen this early in my life. When you proposed to me I did feel a weight lifted because I wasn't sure when we would take that next big step. And now it seems we took two.”

“We'll handle it, just like we have everything else that has been thrown our way,” Harry bent down and kissed her, feeling her lean into him, relieved she had finally told him. He could feel the stress slowly trickle out of her body as they just held each other and kissed. Finally, Harry pulled away and smoothed back her hair forcing her to look up at him. Peering into her eyes he could see a small image of himself reflected back from her smooth, dark eyes.

A small image of himself, or even her, was being formed inside her and it freaked him out a bit. He thought he was doing a good job of hiding it for the moment.

“I love you Hermione and NOTHING will change that. The…surprising news that you're pregnant does not lessen my feelings for you. I wish you could've told me sooner so you weren't so stressed, but I know and understand you do things your way because they work for you. All I need for you to do is tell me what I need to do, or what we need to do,” he corrected quickly. For the first time that evening she smiled and it reached her eyes. Her hands came up to rest over his on her cheeks.

“Nothing much until I go back to the doctors in a few weeks, before school starts. I want you to come with me.” Harry nodded but stayed silent. Hermione ran her fingers over his knuckles and continued talking, loving the therapeutic feeling of finally sharing this with him. “The due date will probably be very late March, so we just need to figure out if we should get married sooner than later…that sort of thing.”

Harry nodded, bent down and kissed her, feeling tiredness suddenly sweep over him. He could not believe this was happening and had no idea where the strength to remain calm was coming from. Maybe because he had read The Prophecy and it had talked about children, the ones he would have with his true love. And, he knew Hermione fit that role.

“Why don't we go to bed and we'll talk about that in the morning? I'm so tired I can barely function and I need to get used to the idea of us becoming parents,” he gave her a small grin and they walked slowly up the stairs, hand in hand.

“Come sleep with me?” Hermione asked pausing outside her room. Harry nodded and followed her towards her bed. Quietly, they began undressing and preparing for bed, not saying much until they were laying together in bed, shoulder to shoulder both staring up at the ceiling.

“I think, now that we're engaged and going to be parents,” Harry began, smiling slightly in the dark, “that we can now share a room if you want.” He felt Hermione turn towards him and rest a hand on his shoulder.

“I'd like that.” Harry turned onto his side and they barely made out each others shapes in the darkness. His hand found her hip and from there he moved it to her stomach where he inched it under her nightgown and let it rest. He could feel her breathing and the warm, smooth skin of her flat stomach under his hand. After a moment she placed her hand on top of his and they feel asleep like that, their hands creating a protective dome over the miniscule life that was beginning inside of her.

-->

21. Tripping the Light Fantastic

Tripping the Light Fantastic

Harry's eyes snapped open to a cream colored ceiling and the weight of Hermione next to him, her back pressed against his side and a cat down by his feet. His mind started slowly, with the last comment he heard the night before.

“I'm pregnant.”

The words echoed in his head and after a brief stomach lurch he managed to grasp onto those words and really think about what this meant for her, for him…basically for the rest of their lives.

`I'm going to be a father, I can't believe this. I never thought of me being a dad,' Harry thought to himself staring at the blurry shadows on the ceiling. `I have a job, I'm getting married…I'm where I want to be in my life…there's enough money if she wants to stay home…yeah, that'll be interesting. I can't see Hermione staying home full time…wonder what we'll do for child care. Holy shit! we need to tell Ron. Damn…that'll be an experience….' Harry turned to his side, an arm automatically wrapping around Hermione's waist. She snuggled back against him, then relaxed still asleep. Thoughts bounced around in his head until he settled them down and sorted them out, giving priority to them and thinking about which ones he should talk to Hermione about first.

The wedding was the first thing on his mind. He felt they should get married sooner than later. After all, he proposed to her and it's not like they had to get to know each other and had a baby in the way. A wedding could happen very quickly, depending on how elaborate she wanted it. He just wanted her to be happy and to be married to her, however she wanted.

Hermione's arm moved and found his hand, at the same time her cat jumped off and raced out of the room, probably hearing something only cats could hear. Based upon the change in her breathing, he guessed that she was awake, but not saying anything yet. Feeling her move sleepily against him as she stretched, moving her legs and arching her back, he felt warm inside. He loved the way she curved into him and the slow way that she woke up; not bouncing of bed with a million thoughts on the tip of her tongue. Gently, he moved closer and using his chin nudged some hair away from her bare shoulder and kissed it. He felt the smoothness of her short nightgown against his bare legs and knew in a moment that she would feel how awake he was.

Not saying anything, not even moving her arms, she tilted her head back letting her hair fall away from her neck. Harry pushed closer and planted a kiss under her ear, then sucked gently feeling her fingers tighten against his. The thought that she was pregnant didn't deter him from wanting her. He knew, from conversations with Bill, that having sex wasn't going to hurt the baby, but it just got a bit more uncomfortable for the mother as her pregnancy progressed. He sucked in a deep breath as she pushed her bottom into him and he couldn't help but to push back against her, feeling so aroused that he thought he might lose it right there.

Never, in the time they had started becoming `more than friends' had his hormones taken off so fast and so furiously as they were doing right now. He moved his hand up and cupped her breast, her fingers trailing along his arm. He barely took notice that she felt fuller, heavier, from the pregnancy because she was making slow movements against him rendering him incapable of thinking anywhere above his body. He heard a soft sigh pass through her lips as his lips brushed her ear, his hand making slow circles under her nightgown. She suddenly shifted so she was facing him, grabbed the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his, her hands tangling in his hair, her hips pressed against his. One hand cupped the back of his head, ensuring their tongues didn't separate as her other hand slid down to his boxers and tugged at the band. Getting the hint very quickly, he managed to push them off, feeling her do the same to her undergarments.

Hermione had no idea what made her suddenly go from sleeping to being totally turned on. When she stretched, she had felt him behind her and felt his warm, lingering kiss. As she tilted her neck back, letting him kiss her without getting a mouthful of hair, she felt him press against her rear and she couldn't help but press back feeling shivers shoot up her spine and straight down to her stomach. And then, when his hand slipped under her nightgown, she couldn't help the rush of hormones that made the blood pound in her ears and make her fight for her breath. She had spun around in his arms, surprising him with the forcefulness of her kiss. After a moment's hesitation from him he had responded just as willingly. His hand was pleasantly warming her back as he pressed into her, his lips dancing over hers, tongues twisting around each others and, with a confidence Harry hadn't seen since the moment in his Library, she had shed them of their undergarments and rolled on top of him, both of them moaning softly as they joined together. She wanted to be as close as possible to him, to hold him forever; awash in maternal and romantic feelings she had never felt for anyone before.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, hearing his tender cries against her ear as she moved rhythmically with him. Her hands gripped his shoulders and she could feel his warm hands on her hips, moving her the way he wanted, the way she liked. Again and again they crested waves and flew over the top; each one larger than the last. He breathed her name, the shortened version he had invented and she responded by gasping his softly in his ear, feeling a shiver also go through him. She could tell he was close; his hands were all over her, pushing their way up her back, around her shoulders, his thumbs grazed the sides of her breast making her tighten her grip on his shoulders; she couldn't hold on much longer. He was pulling her in with that force he managed to usually keep under control. His hands were now on her thighs, pulling her to him even though she couldn't get any closer. She wiggled her hips in a circle over his, moaning aloud together as she felt him brush past something in her…something only he could find. She kissed his ear, whispering his name into it and he jerked slightly, lifting them off the bed. A small smile graced Hermione's lips as she filed that little piece of information away…his ears were just as sensitive as another part of his body.

He was shifting beneath her, his hands shoving her hips down towards his, his fingers splayed across her back. She felt him bury his mouth in her shoulder and the combination of the nips with his teeth and the circling of his tongue pushed her over the rim, she arched against him crying out. His arms wrapped possessively around her, tightly clasping her to his chest. He rose beneath her again unusually loud in his cries which mingled with hers. As Hermione felt her insides seemingly explode, melt and begin to ooze a sensual feeling, quenching her want for Harry, she went limp, collapsing on his chest. Their foreheads were resting against each others shoulders, breath tickling each others collarbones. His hands slowly relaxed; his arms falling a bit from her sides as they rested above her hips.

“Am I too heavy?” Hermione whispered, first to break the semi-silence. In response he shook his head and tightened his arms around her. Hermione was happy to hear she wasn't…she enjoyed being this close, feeling a slight hum of his intense power radiating through her from him. She kissed his shoulder, his neck and worked her way up to his cheek where she finally pulled back to look at him. He helped her push the hair out of her eyes and they stared at each other for a moment. He was watching her so intently, his green eyes seemingly swirling around the darkness of his pupil that her breath caught. Involuntarily her stomach muscles clenched, just as they had when he had first kissed her. His hips twitched a little as certain muscles tightened around him, still embedded inside her.

“I love you,” he said with such seriousness that Hermione could only nod, feeling his hands grip the sides of her head a bit harder. “I love everything about you…the way you rub your finger across your lips when you're reading intently. The way you look people in the eye when they are talking to you. The way your eyes light up when you see Will. The way you're looking at me right now because you're at a loss for words.” Harry didn't crack a smile, wanting her to know how serious he was. Running a thumb along her cheekbone he watched a mixture of emotions cross her face pulling him to her. He leaned up to kiss her, loving her soft lips opening under his. She was the first to pull away, rearranging her weight on him, her arms now resting on either side of his head. He felt the need to keep going, to shower upon her the fierceness of his love for her—for them.

“I love you and the fact that you're carrying our child makes me love you so much it aches and hurts; and at the same time, I want to fiercely protect you from anything and everyone that would even look at you wrong. I want to…,” he paused as she blinked and she squeezed herself around him again. He knew if she kept doing that, he'd lose his train of thought. He was responding to her slightest movement, surprising even himself that his body seemed ready to do this again with Hermione.

“I want to marry you sooner rather than later. I want to be with you forever, as long as humanly possible and call me selfish if that means getting married tomorrow.”

Hermione's eyes were bright with tears as he softly rubbed her shoulders, then cupped her face again. Leaning down she kissed him lightly on the lips, his words echoing through her head. His words saying what he loved about her were touching, the idea borrowed from that movie they watched seemingly so long ago, “When Harry Met Sally”, but he put a twist on them to make them his own…about her. And the fact he mentioned the baby had grabbed her heart. She knew, for awhile when he was younger, he never thought he'd live to get married, have children and become a father. She knew he was scared never having a good role model as a parent, but she also knew that he would make the role his own and draw upon the men in his life that had been, and still were, important. Sirius, Dumbledore, Arthur, Bill, Remus…he'd pick and chose what he liked about each of them and mix it up with his own self…making a wonderful father.

“I love you, Harry. And, if I say anything else, I'm going to break down and cry,” Hermione whispered, touching his scar, then his cheek.

“You don't need to say anything,” he whispered right back, tentatively moving against her. Her eyes fluttered shut then opened again as she answered his movements.

No words were necessary for either of them to express their devotion, their love and commitment to each other. For it had been cemented when Hermione first set eyes on Harry over ten years ago and showing this boy how to fix his glasses. But, over those years their feelings and their bond were buried by the events that flew around them--causing Harry to spend more time on surviving then trying to live like a normal child growing into a teenager. Now, that he was free to live and had accepted the death of Ron and Ginny, he had managed to let the dust sift away from around the feelings he kept for Hermione buried deep inside him.

And, as they managed to finally get up and start their Sunday, it was with silent touches and soft kisses that they communicated their deep, unbreakable feelings for each other. They hung around the house cleaning up, answering congratulations owls on their engagement and by the time the sun went down another important decision had been made.

August 18th was to be their wedding day. A small affair, done at the Ministry of Magic. No advertising, no publicizing. Just close friends and family were to attend. And, by the time the public got wind of it, they'd be on their honeymoon to Australia for a week. Then, they'd begin their lives, and their jobs, as Mister and Misses Harry J. Potter, Professors at Hogawarts.

During the passing of the nine months of pregnancy, Ron managed to get a hold of Phinneas and had found out that he was the one who managed to steal the Prophecy. He tricked Hyprasia Potter (who later married into the Trelawney family) into thinking he loved her, knowing that she had heard a Prophecy about the future of her blood line and the possibility it could affect his. And, as soon as he convinced her to write it down and seal it, he had stolen it out of her room and left without a trace. Upon hearing that his very own daughter would be marrying Charlus Potter, he had hidden the Prophecy in the house and sold it to the Gladrags, hoping against hope that if no one found it, that his Black blood-line wouldn't end. Obviously, that was a very skewed way to think, Ron had told him and Phinneas had only nodded sadly. Now, that it was out in the open among Harry's friends they couldn't wait to see what color eyes the babies would have.

And, on March second, when little Holly and James Potter were born, they refused to open their eyes. It wasn't until the second day that Harry had been the first to see them open their eyes as they lay together in their hospital bassinette, Hermione napping in the bed next to them. Holly's green eyes fixed onto Harry and widened as if recognizing him. Her tiny movements woke James who looked sleepily around and finally up at Harry who had gently called his name. His eyes, too, were green and right then Harry felt a peacefulness spread through him, knowing that the Potter blood line was going to live on, stronger than ever because Potter was now fused with Granger…who was, after all, the smartest witch of her age. But, Hermione did get her share, as three years (then another two passed by), with two more children, boys with brown eyes just like their mother's...and, as it turned out years later, the brains of their mother also as both the younger boys were sorted into Ravenclaw as their older siblings stayed the course in Gryffindor.

----

On August first, Ginny hit the ground with a thud and couldn't move, couldn't breathe and all she saw was bright sun streaming down through puffy white clouds.

“Damn,” a low voice said near her ear. She turned her head slowly, feeling as if it was a big weight attached to her body and saw Draco laying next to her staring up at the sky, slowly moving his neck in a circle. She could hear some faint pops coming from the movement and winced.

“Portkey's are so much better,” Ginny mumbled taking a deep breath and feeling glorious air fill her lungs. Coughing, as she got used to inhaling and exhaling again, she felt the oxygen slowly bring feeling to her numbed limbs and mind.

The ground beneath her was damp and smelled of earth and freshly cut grass. The ground. She could feel the ground! Her breath hitched in her chest as she struggled to support herself on her elbows, her body feeling strangely heavy, yet distantly familiar. Finally pushing herself up she turned to Draco next to her and saw he was doing the same thing and instead of looking around was staring at her.

“What?” Ginny asked apprehensively, thinking maybe all her body parts were in the wrong place. Her eyes swept over his short blond hair, the clothes he wore when he had committed suicide and noticed he had on sandals. A Malfoy in sandals struck her as funny, but she managed to bite down the laugh that bubbled up inside her chest.

“You're hair is brilliantly red,” he finally said and she looked down at a piece that had fallen over her shoulder onto her chest. Indeed it did look redder than it had last year.

“Maybe because we haven't seen color on ourselves in awhile,” Ginny answered thoughtfully, managing to unlock their gaze and let her eyes sweep over her first encounter with Echo. She was surrounded by trees, at least three-quarters of the way around her. She still didn't feel strong enough to turn over and look behind her. In the distance she saw a figure walking towards them and he looked vaguely familiar to her.

“Who is that?”

“No idea,” Draco groaned as he managed to get to his hands and knees, breathing deeply. Ginny watched him as she managed to stand, stumble then regain his balance. He caught her watching him and gave her a smirk.

“Remember, it's only been a bit over a month for me being Light…you've been that way for over a year,” Draco explained, holding out his hand. Ginny shook her head at his gesture.

“I don't think I can stand up yet. My legs feel like jell-o.” Draco lowered his hand and turned around, seeing the figure walk towards them. Ginny managed to sit up straighter, using her hands to guide her legs into a cross-legged position as she watched the tall, thin figure get closer.

“Welcome Draco and Ginny,” a familiar male voice called across the grass.

“Holy…I'll be dammed,” Draco murmured then started laughing, stopped as if surprised by the feeling it evoked, then chuckled again.

“No way!” Ginny struggled to her hands and knees, felt a hand grab her arm and effortlessly haul her to her feet. She collapsed against Draco, her arms going around him and she gasped both in the feeling of something solid and warm beneath her arms and with the recognition of the form walking towards them.

“Cedric!” Ginny called as she saw him walk towards her. A smile ran across his face as he approached them. “I never thought…I mean…it's great to see you!” Ginny felt an overwhelming happiness and tears pricked her eyes. Tentatively, she pulled her arm away from the front of Draco and wiped her eyes. He must've felt her emotion because he squeezed her arm harder then slowly helped her stand on her own. She still wasn't too steady on her legs, so Cedric took a couple of steps towards her and gave her a quick hug.

“Yeah, I'm here. It's a pretty cool place to live actually. I met a girl from Ireland that was hit by a Muggle car a few years back and we're together just down the street from where you'll be staying.” Cedric stepped back and looked at Draco. “You two are staying together?”

Ginny looked up at Draco, not realizing how tall he really was (as they could float to each other's height when they were in the Magical world as Light). Their eyes met and a flush flew through Ginny's body, feeling her hormones respond in a way that shocked her. Draco gave a slight nod then turned back to Cedric.

“We'll stay in the same one.”

“Good…can you walk yet Ginny? I know it's a rough entry and tough to get back onto two feet and solid ground,” Cedric smiled at her and Ginny smiled back, still not quite believing she was talking to the person that died by Harry's side all those years ago.

`If I could only tell Harry who I am talking to right now,' Ginny thought. She berated herself for thinking that; there was no way to contact him, not until Halloween and only through Ron at that point. So, she experimentally moved her foot and found that her legs were a bit stronger. After a slow start, both of them walking behind Cedric, she got the rhythm down, her muscle memory kicked in and within ten minutes the three of them were walking out of the small clearing and onto a sidewalk lined with trees…towards her and Draco's new home.

Ginny stood in awe of the adorable house before her. Cedric had walked up and pushed open the door beckoning her to walk on in. Draco had already walked by her and ducked through the door. It was a one level house white with blue trim and Ginny had to say it was one of the cutest, most charming houses she had ever seen. Carefully, still a bit shaky on her legs, she followed Draco into the house, Cedric right behind her.

“Feel free to walk around, get acquainted and so on. Tomorrow, you have appointments with the resident healer to talk about aging potions and such and a tour around Echo. I'm sure you're tired and ready to just relax and get used to having a full body form again,” Cedric told them. He nodded down the hall behind where Draco was standing, watching Cedric intently.

“There are three bedrooms down there, each furnished. There are two bathrooms…you'll probably be using just the shower as we don't have any need to eat. Though there are some fancy spells and charms if you want to go that route, but you can take all that up with the healer. Are there any questions?”

Ginny shook her head as she surveyed the living room they had walked into. Nice hardwood floors, comfortable looking neutral colored furniture.

“Are there stores around here to purchase clothes and such?” Draco asked, his arms crossed as he looked around the room too.

“Sure are. And there's an envelope to get you started on the table. We take galleons…,” Cedric started to explain.

“I have money still on me,” Draco said quickly. Ginny felt her heart beat faster, an unfamiliar feeling so she jumped a bit when she recognized what it was.

“What is it?” Cedric looked at her curiously, his hands now shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

“I don't have any on me…money,” she stammered.

“Don't worry, check out the envelope on the table. If you want jobs, you can get them, too. This place is just like home, except the glaring reality that we aren't really alive.”

Draco snorted and smiled a bit. Cedric left a card with his address on it in case they needed anything, then said he'd be by around eleven in the morning to pick them up. Ginny gave him a hug, Draco shook his hand in a matter of minutes it was just Ginny and Draco standing in the living room looking at each other.

“Well…what now?” Ginny asked softly. She watched him walk towards her then reach out and touch her hand. There was the shock again, a warmth that tingled through her and she gasped as he answered her. Through the pounding resonating in her body all she could hear was his voice, no distinguishable words. Without any second thoughts she wound her arms around his neck, lifted herself up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

The effect she had on him was not the one she thought. Instead of the hesitation, and maybe the slow kiss back, he wrapped his arms around her practically lifting her up off the floor. With gasping kisses and hands clutching each others clothes, seeking and finding the solidity of each other they tumbled onto the sofa. Draco was a delicious warmth on her, his mouth assaulting hers as if he couldn't get enough of their touches. When her hands encountered bare skin on his back he jerked back as if suddenly realizing what they were doing. Their eyes met and the hand that was cradling her head slid to her cheek, their chests pushing against each others.

“I'm sorry,” Draco's low voice caressed her ears and she shook her head telling him to not apologize.

“Don't be. I…we,” Ginny started but fell silent as words escaped her. Her hand that had been laying on his shoulder traveled down his back, taking in the broadness she felt and he dipped his head towards hers.

“Yeah, I know,” he agreed not knowing how to explain what they were feeling.

“Hey,” Ginny whispered and he lifted his eyes to hers. “You can continue if you want too,” she smiled shyly at him and saw him actually smile back. His answer was another deep, sweet kiss that she never thought Draco Malfoy would be capable of giving. They both seemed surprised as they began rocking against each other, the instincts coming back to Ginny on what felt good, where to touch to hear the soft, male groan in her ear. A sharp ache developed where his hips pressed into hers and she tugged at his shorts, letting him know exactly what she wanted. It had been over a year since she had sex. For all of those seemingly stored up hormones his kisses released them and they came rushing back so fast she was sure she'd lose it before he even shimmied out of her own pants. She nodded when he asked her quietly if she was sure. Her hands clutched his back, feeling his fingers leave a hot trail as he pulled down her lightweight pants. His fingers scraped her thigh, her knee and she struggled to kick them off.

“Ohhhh, hurry,” Ginny gasped as his hand seemed to take it's time trailing up her thigh and lightly brushing an area she never thought she'd ever let him touch. His rough hands scraped the very sensitive part of her as he pulled her knickers to the side and in one swift move buried himself inside her.

“Fuck…,” Draco groaned feeling her legs wrap around his waist and her body moving under his. “I can't…,” he panted not being able to hold back any longer, and Ginny pushed up into him as an answer. Her body shattered against him and she cried out grasping his back and holding him to her barely registering his low cries in her ear.

“Draco…oh Merlin…,” she panted feeling him shudder against her, his voice now just heavy pants in her ear.

“Merlin that was brilliant…short…but brilliant,” Draco whispered into her shoulder relaxing somewhat on top of her.

“Just letting you know,” he continued with a lilt in his voice that made Ginny smile, “that I can usually last longer than that.”

“Well, me too, but it's been awhile…especially for me,” Ginny answered her hands lightly running up and down his back, feeling so comfortable and such an overwhelming happiness that she really felt she could hold him like that all day. Somewhere along the line, during the past two months she fell hard for Draco. She could feel him physically and emotionally take over her thoughts, pushing Harry a bit further back into her mind.

“Do you think we should probably explore the house now?” Draco asked hesitantly, feeling a bit awkward just like she was. It sounded like a great idea, so she nodded against his shoulder and he pulled back but stopped before he pushed himself totally off of her. His eyes seemed darker, more gray than blue, and for a moment they just stared at each other, being able to see every freckle on her face, every dark blond lash on his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, Ginny trailed a finger down the curve of his cheek then splayed her hand behind his neck. Needing no further encouragement, he inclined his head and pressed his lips to hers whispering something so quietly against her mouth she pushed him back a bit.

“I didn't catch that.”

“I said I think that living with you will prove to be very enjoyable,” he saw her narrow her eyes a bit and recognized the warning signs of getting angry, “not for just…what we just did. But, experiencing this whole thing.”

Ginny nodded a bit and felt him clamor off of her. Quickly, they gathered up clothes and pulled them on, purposefully not looking at each other, feeling that awkwardness during he aftermath of something unplanned. Ginny followed him down the hall and together they peeked into the three bedrooms. Coming upon the last one, at the end of the hall she saw two twin sized beds. Draco hesitated and she saw a somewhat sad look pass quickly over his face before he turned and looked out the window. Reaching out she touched his hand.

“Your son and daughter will be very happy back home once they are born. Especially if Charlie continues to be interested in Pansy.”

Draco just nodded and turned away, his hand slipping from hers.

“Where are you going?” Ginny turned and watched his back retreating out the door of the small bedroom.

He turned and glanced at her, then gave a small smile.

“To check out the bed in our room.”

Ginny's heart leapt at that comment and not needing another invitation she took a few quick steps and met him the first bedroom, the word “our” ringing through her head.

She never thought, for all the galleons in the Magical world, that she would end up with Draco Malfoy.

But, thirteen months later, on an early September morning Ginny gave birth to their daughter. A blond haired, blue eyed beauty that captured the hearts of her parents. And, just to make it interesting they named her Rue, after a rather powerful plant. And. just to wrap up the history of each of their lives in this tiny person, Ginny had also found at the library the following information:

“A person who carries it {Rue} is never bitten by venomous creatures. This argumentation is based on "fact" that "weasels, when about to fight with serpents, eat rue." Thanks to this story and the awful smell of the plant, it was believed to be an antidote against all kinds of poisons. In addition to this, we are reminded that rue "will turn off the light of Venus". It was also thought to have a power to repel evil spirits. And finally it protected people from plague and other deadly epidemics.”*

What Ginny and Draco didn't know was that their daughter was the small soul of the twin that didn't make it when Pansy gave birth in early December, with Charlie by her side. The cord had been wrapped around her neck and there was nothing that could be done, as magic doesn't work unborn babies, magical or not. Her twin brother, Patrick, was the spitting image of his father but had the gentle disposition of a Weasley, thanks to having Charlie as his stepfather, and two younger redheaded little sisters.

~~~fin~~~

*A/N: definition & name found on a website entitled: Medicinal and Magical Herbs of Medieval Europe. The title of this chapter is from an album that I have personally never heard, but just love the name. And it had the word Light in it…and it makes me think of good, happy things so that's why I picked it! Finally, thanks to EVERYONE who read and stayed with me through this story. It was truly fun to write and, sometimes, a challenge. Thank you for your reviews; I read each and everyone one. Have a wonderful summer, my friends! I'm not sure if I will be doing another (maybe a one-shot at some point?), but I am trying to work on my own story. Keep me in your thoughts, fellow Port Keyers!

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