The Light by 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.*****




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”!

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


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.


three bedrooms


library, or den


cat flap


large yard


many bookshelves


sun room or reading nook


secluded


telephone capabilities


larger bathroom


attic


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.

-->



6. Green vs. Orange
-------------------



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

----

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!

-->



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.

-->



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.

-->



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!

-->