Without You

HarrynHermione4eva

Rating: NC17
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 07/05/2006
Last Updated: 01/06/2006
Status: in_progress

The dark lord is still afoot, and the trio have been living outside of school grounds for a few years. Their journey has been hard, but is about to get more complicated, especially between Harry and Hermione when they discover something between them that will change the fate of the entire world. Hunts for horcruxes, people turning into animals, Death Eaters being killed by their own leader, Harry Potter has too much on his hands to fall into another relationship, but who would turn down the love of a lifetime? Chapter 10 is up and entitled: Slave to Love. That means... I thought you guys would need an update. :P

Chapters

1. I'll Never Fall In Love Again

2. Crazy Train

3. Stuck In A Moment That You Can't Get Out Of

4. I Really Want You

5. (They Long To Be) Close To You

6. For You I Will

7. Only Hope

8. My Beautiful Life

9. Blowin' In The Wind

10. Slave to Love

1. I'll Never Fall In Love Again

So here I am, on a new story journey. Huge thanks to my beta, Rylee.

Enjoy!

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Without You

Chapter 1: I'll Never Fall in Love Again

Mary Chapin Carpenter

What do you get when you fall in love?

A guy with a pin to burst your bubble

That's what you get for all your trouble.

I'll never fall in love again.

I'll never fall in love again.

What do you get when you kiss a guy?

You get enough germs to catch pneumonia.

After you do, he'll never phone you.

I'll never fall in love again.

I'll never fall in love again.

Don't tell me what is all about,

'Cause I've been there and I'm glad I'm out,

Out of those chains, those chains that bind you

That is why I'm here to remind you

What do you get when you fall in love?

You get enough tears to fill an ocean

That's what you get for your devotion.

I'll never fall in love again.

I'll never fall in love again.

What do you get when you fall in love?

You only get lies and pain and sorrow.

So, for at least until tomorrow,

I'll never fall in love again!

I'll never fall in love again!

(*)*(*)*(*)

“She won't return my letters, she's not answering her door, and every time I try to floo into her flat I get shocked and find myself in the basement underneath Flourish and Blotts…and she knows there are spiders down there…”

Harry nodded. “I know, the same thing happened to me.” Hermione had been acting peculiar lately, ever since the break-up.

Ron let out a huff of air. “I tell you mate, if she had acted like this after she and I broke up, you'd be looking at a pile of dust in my place. I can't imagine what she's done to that idiotic bloke…”

Harry had to snigger. “I'm sure she turned him into a cat toy and fed him to Crookshanks for the way he treated her.”

Ron snorted loudly. “Serves him right. I still can't believe he had the balls to sleep with the girl at Hermione's flat, let alone in her bed for Merlin's sake! Why couldn't he sleep with these slags at his own dump?”

“I guess the second girl told him who her roommate was, and he had slept with her and never called that girl back, so he didn't want to run into her at their apartment.” Harry and Ron looked at one another with questioning glances.

“Hermione sure knows how to pick `em, eh?”

Harry smirked, “Yeah, she did a great job, especially with that whole two weeks you two went out…”

“Hey!”

“I'm just teasing you.”

“No, you're right,” Ron looked to the floor. “Hermione and I never would have worked out. I mean, I liked her for all these years, right?” Harry nodded. He knew; he'd seen them both fall for one another. “And it's this dream come true, of course, until I realize…It's Hermione. She's like a sister to me; she's like Ginny with brown hair and I think: this is just too weird. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, except I've never had a sister.” Ron went quiet for a moment and kicked a pole as they walked through Diagon Alley.

“Look mate, I-I didn't mean to…”

“Don't worry about it,” Harry waved him off. “I just hope we find her here, and in one piece.”

Harry and Ron ducked as they crawled through the back way of the bar that led them to the muggle London. Ron winced as their hair brushed the spider-infested ceiling.

“S-so what are we going to say to her? She obviously doesn't want to talk to anyone.”

“She has to, though. One person can't keep all those feelings inside them or they'll burst.” Ron grinned. “What?”

“I just remember Hermione saying something like that to you when we were younger.”

“W-well, she was right,” Harry opened the door to the chaotic street just outside. “There's no way I'd have gotten through all the times I've fought off Voldemort if it hadn't been for you two there to listen to my bitching about my feelings the entire way.”

“You didn't bitch about your feelings, Harry.”

“Don't even lie to me, Ron. I must have been hell to be around.”

“We'd take a little of your bitching over Voldemort's any day mate.” Harry smiled at those words, and the simple fact that his best friend could now say Voldemort's name so freely; without an ounce of anxiety or twitching of the muscles.

A glimpse of a black shawl caught Harry's attention across the street. He glanced over, and there was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. Rage swept through Harry's veins and he turned to Ron.

“Ron, don't look, but Bellatrix Lestrange is here,” he whispered.

“What—”

“Shhh, don't say anything.” Bellatrix crossed the street and headed for the entrance to the library.

“Well, here it is.”

“Bloody hell, Mate. No wonder Hermione loves this place.” They were walking into one of the largest library in the whole of England: the British Library.

“Only Hermione.” The two boys climbed the steps of the library two at a time to get ahead of Bellatrix, making sure to stay on the right side of the steps away from Bellatrix and between people entering the library.

“Is this where she spends all her time when she says she's researching?” Ron whispered as the two boys quickly showed their library card ID's to the security guard.

“Yeah.” Harry remembered the many times Hermione had dragged him to this place, finding magic books of spells dispersed in the section of Wicca books. Any muggle would shrug off the books to be utter rubbish when they didn't work, but Hermione had come to recognize the real spell books.

Hermione had explained that in the early 1940's, when Dumbledore was fighting that Grindelwald bloke, that he had spent a lot of time here looking for spells, and hiding some within the muggle books by donating these books to the library. No dark wizard would be caught dead sifting through a muggle library, so it was a safe zone for unique spells that Dumbledore had invented, and even some sacred spells and charms that were not widely published. If Harry hadn't told Hermione before how she was brilliant she was, than he was an idiot. However, here was one of the darkest witches and follower of Voldemort that was chasing after them in a muggle library.

“Do you know where she is?”

“Yeah, it's on the second floor.” The boys took two more sets of stairs, two at a time, running, weaving in and out of book shelves, passing what seemed like hundreds of people studying until finally, there she was. Hermione was in the darkest corner of the library with piles of books all around her. She stood up, looking positively livid.

“What do you two think you are—”

“There's no time to explain, Hermione. Grab all the books you can and apparate to my place, NOW!” Hermione frantically grabbed all the books she could, understanding the undertone of Harry's desperation.

“Are there any more on the shelves?”

“No, they're all here.” She disappeared with a POP, and Harry and Ron followed there soon after.

Harry hated traveling by apparition. He hated the feeling that he was being sucked at high speed through a tube, and almost lost hold of the pile of books he was carrying. He held on with every muscle he had in his hands and soon found himself standing up inside of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry dropped the books at his feet and wasted no time in marching straight over to Hermione.

“What the hell were you doing there without telling one of us, Hermione!” She didn't look scared, not anymore. They'd been friends for too long for her to be scared of Harry. Her eyes pierced back with an even greater force than he was glaring at her.

“I was researching, just like you saw me!”

“We promised each other, Hermione!” Harry choked out. “The three of us, we promised we wouldn't go anywhere outside of our own homes alone!”

“You two weren't around.”

“Because you bloody hell wouldn't let us into your flat, Hermione!” Ron flared in next to Harry. From the look in his eyes, Harry could tell he was just as outraged as Harry.

“I-I…”Hermione stammered. Harry let out a sigh, and with that a bit of his frustration.

“Bellatrix was there, Hermione.” Her eyes went wide. “We saw her just as we were walking in.”

“Did she see you?”

“I don't think so, but she was clearly looking for you,” Ron said with a pain in his voice that all three of them clearly shared.

“I-I…” Hermione didn't even finish what she said. Instead she ran up to the first floor of Grimmauld place, while Harry and Ron watched her go.

They started picking up the books they had all dropped to the floor as Ron followed Harry into the home's library.

“Harry, you go talk to her,” Ron said, placing the books on a desk near the entrance. “We both know I'm no good at talking about deep stuff. I'll finish putting the books away.”

Harry nodded to Ron and walked out into the hall, climbing the stairs to the first level. He didn't stop there, however, and continued walking until he got to the attic. He knew she would be there.

The door was locked.

“Let me in, Hermione.”

“Go away,” he heard muffled through the wooden door. He had to smile at the irony of the situation; how she used to find him balled away in this room and coax him to come out.

He tried to unlock the door, and realized she had to have put a strong locking spell on the room.

“Hermione, I'm not afraid to blow down this door if you don't—” the lock turned, and Harry gingerly opened the door to Hermione, who was sitting there with Buckbeak, running her hands along his smooth feathers.

He saw a tear run down her cheek. “I'm sorry, Harry,” she whispered hoarsely.

He started to cross the room and was taken aback when Buckbeak crowed loudly at him. He bowed and waited for him to bow back before sitting across from Hermione; watching the tears run down her face as she sat there stroking Buckbeak mindlessly.

“Hermione, what happened?”

She shook her head. “You know what happened.”

“No, Hermione, I don't. All I heard was a bunch of squeaking over the phone and that your boyfriend—”

“He's not my boyfriend anymore,” she snapped, and then turned back to Buckbeak.

“I-I know, Hermione. Look, I'm sorry that it happened, but Ron and I told you the guy was a tool…”

She sighed. “I know. I should have listened to you two. I just…I can't sleep in my bed anymore. I've been sleeping on the couch the past few nights…”

Harry's heart broke. He wanted to go find that muggle bloke and smash his face in…put a hole through his heart with his fist…knock his teeth out, anything to show him how badly he'd hurt Hermione. “You know, Hermione, Ron and I will go beat up that jerk the muggle way if you want.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I appreciate it, but I just want to forget about him; forget about relationships.” Harry nodded. “I just want to be on my own for a while, you know?”

Harry took her hand in his. She peered at him, her eyes filled to the brim. “You should move in here for a little while. No, let me finish…” he said when she started to protest. “I think it would be good for you, get your mind off of men, you can do your research here, and I'll take care of you during your little `penis embargo.'”*

She giggled and sniffed, wiping at her eyes. “I don't know what I'd do without you, Harry. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you and Ron to look after me.”

He leaned over and took her sobbing form into his shoulder, shushing her and letting her cry everything out. Merlin knew she needed it.

After she had cried her eyes out, he sat back from her, still holding her head in his hands. “So it's settled then. Ron and I will help you move in here tomorrow.” She smiled weakly and nodded, embracing him tightly.

“And we'll have a bonfire to destroy my old bed?” Harry laughed.

“Of course. Only for you, Hermione. We'd do anything for you.”

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There's chapter one. Let me know what you think and I'll post more.

Thank you to Rylee for being my wonderful beta! Read her story: The Good, The Bad and the Drunk, because it is WONDERFUL!

*I can't take credit for this line because it comes from the show FRIENDS

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2. Crazy Train

Thanks to everyone for being so incredibly patient! Chapter 2 awaits:

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Without You

Chapter 2: Crazy Train

Ozzy Osbourne

Crazy, but that's how it goes
Millions of people living as foes
Maybe it's not to late
To learn how to love
And forget how to hate

Mental wounds not healing
Life's a bitter shame
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

I've listened to preachers
I've listened to fools
I've watched all the dropouts
Who make their own rules
One person conditioned to rule and control
The media sells it and you have the role

Mental wounds still screaming
Driving me insane
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

I know that things are going wrong for me
You gotta listen to my words
Yeh-h

Heirs of a cold war
That's what we've become
Inheriting troubles I'm mentally numb
Crazy, I just cannot bear
I'm living with something that just isn't fair

Mental wounds not healing
Who and what's to blame
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

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The woman's shrieks as the pain coursed through her body didn't phase the ear of her tormentor. Never in her life had it been so horrible. Her bones were crumbling, her fingers in so much strain that they were breaking backwards on their own. When finally the Dark Lord Voldemort released her from the Cruciatus curse, she wished that he hadn't stopped, that he had continued until she was dead.

“Did you read the Daily Prophet today, Bella?” She didn't answer. “Crucio.” Bellatrix screamed again and he released the hold he had on her, letting her fall to the ground in a pathetic heap at his feet.

“Are you going to answer my question this time?”

She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “Y-ye…yes, m-my Lord.” The words were soft, barely recognizable, but Voldemort took pity on her this once and turned around to go sit in the chair at the back of the room.

“So tell me, Bella. Why did you deviate from the original plan I sent you to do?”

She winced, but still did not look up at him. “I-I had to, my Lord.”

“Why would you deceive me so, Bella? Have you no respect for your superiors?” Voldemort twirled his wand in his hand, then held it loosely as he tapped his temple, waiting for her answer.

“I had no choice, my Lord. They had me cornered.” A ripple of pain made its way through her body. Her heart rate soared; her toes curled, and felt her body stretching itself out of shape on its own accord. The curse stopped, but the pain remained as Lord Voldemort stood over her body, peering down at her crumpled form.

“I am sick with you Bella.” He moved to walk out of the room as she reached for him. Her arm was too weak to hold her weight, and instead she slumped to the floor and bawled.

__________________________________________________

“Hermione, just tell us where the bloody hell to drop this fucking couch.”

“Ron Weasley! I can't believe your mouth has the ability to—”

“Hermione!” Harry and Ron yelled simultaneously.

“Oh! Um, well I think it would look nice next to the window.” They started to carry it over to the window in Hermione's new room. “But I don't want the colour to fade from the sunlight. Try it over there next to the closet.” Huffing, the two boys stopped and turned toward the closet. “Oh damn, no that won't look good at all. Perhaps you should—”

“You know, Hermione, I think it looks good right here,” Ron said irritably as he and Harry plopped the couch down in the middle of her room.

“Oh, well, you know, it looks good there too…”

“I still don't know why we can't do this with our wands. It would be so easy to…”

“I all ready told you no Ronald. I won't have my furniture accidentally turned into a…”

“We're not going to…”

“Hermione, would you mind if we took a break or something,” Harry said slumping down on the couch and covering his eyes with his arm. “It's probably lunch time and I'm starving.”

“Hear hear,” Ron said as he shot downstairs. Harry and Hermione laughed as Harry sat up and moved over for Hermione to sit down.

“How are you doing?” He asked her, reaching out to take her hand in his, stroking his thumb over her palm.

She grinned, looking at their hands. “I'm doing all right. I just…well, I guess I never thought…”

“I know,” he said pulling her to his side so he could wrap his arms around her. “You don't need to say it. That guy was a jerk.”

She gave him a tight squeeze, and then pulled back from him and took his hands in hers. “We should probably be getting downstairs, lunch and all.”

Harry smirked. “Right. I'll bet Ron is going mad waiting for you to make us lunch.”

She laughed, and a glint caught in her eye, one Harry had never noticed before in his life. She had the likeness, at that moment, of an innocent child, laughing so carefree. Never before had he noticed how beautiful she could be in such an instant. He had the sudden urge to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, to run his hand along her soft cheek, to…

“Yes, I suppose we should,” he said, letting go of her hands and standing up. “Shall we?”

She grinned and stood up, leading him out of the room. They walked down the stairs, and saw Ron, not pacing the kitchen as they had expected him to, but sitting down at the table, enraptured with the daily prophet. The muggle newspaper lay on the table near him, open so that the front page could be easily read.

He looked up at them in disbelief. “Have you guys read the paper yet?” They shook their heads. “Well, the British Library was blown up yesterday.”

“What?” Harry and Hermione shouted at the same time, reaching for the muggle newspaper. Hermione got to it first and skimmed the front page of The London Times.

“This is from yesterday, so a day after…” she said, glancing at the first part herself.

“Well what does it say?” Harry asked apprehensively.

“Yesterday, a woman dressed in black was questioned on her way into the British Library of London. When asked to see an ID, she refused and demanded to be allowed entrance. Because of suspicious behaviours, authorities were contacted immediately. When authorities arrived, the woman was so vehemently intent on entering the library that they attempted to handcuff her. She retaliated screaming, “Get your filthy hands off me you muggles!” Researchers are still attempting to find some meaning behind her remark.

After struggling with the suspect for minutes, she screamed and held up a stick (which authorities believed to be a bomb of some sort) as the building then proceeded to explode.” Hermione stopped and looked up at the two boys. They were staring at her with wide eyes

“But she…and then…how did…”

“I think someone tipped her off with the news that I was there, Ron.”

“Alone, I might add,” Harry snapped, turning towards the refrigerator.

“Harry, come on I just—”

“You could have been killed Hermione!” Harry didn't want to turn around and show her the tears that were streaming down his face. He couldn't bear to even look at her.

“Do you think I feel good about this, Harry?” Hermione shouted. “Do you think I feel amazing that I got hundreds of people killed because of my own stupid mistake?”

Harry wiped at his eyes and turned around to find her inches from his face; her eyes livid and spilling tears. “I feel repulsive right now; I am so upset with myself that I would do anything in the world to take it back.”

“Well now you know how I feel, Hermione!” The words were out of his mouth before he could even think them. “Now you know how I feel every day of my life; that if I hadn't been born, there would be so many other people living. That if I hadn't been so stupid in my fifth year, that Sirius would still be alive.”

He wiped at his face again. “In a war, Hermione, there are always going to be casualties…even the innocent people are going to die. But living with that constant fear, that constant threat that you are one-half of why that evil is still in the world, and that you can't destroy it is something no one will ever feel. I can hardly feel it…I'll never grasp the fact that Voldemort is still there because I haven't killed him.” He moved past her to sit at one of the chairs at the table, and put his head in his hands. Ron moved to sit next to him and Hermione came up from behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders.

“I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean…”

“I hate feeling so useless,” he choked out. “I feel like I'm a burden most of the time, or like a bloody damsel in distress.”

“Well you're not, mate,” Ron said, patting him on the shoulder. “And I'm glad you're not, because then you'd have to wear one of those dresses.”

Harry choked out a noise that was halfway between a sob and a laugh. Hermione squeezed his shoulders. “Look, Harry. I'm not all that hungry anymore. Maybe we should go back to moving everything and skip—what?” Harry had picked up his head and turned to look at her with the same frown that Ron had on his face. She smiled. “Oh come on you two.”

“Do you know what you're saying, Hermione,” Ron said almost monotonously. “You are asking two fully grown men to skip a meal. I don't think we can let her get away with it that easily, mate.” Harry laughed and Hermione swatted Ron on the arm.

“Fine. I'll make Harry a sandwich and cook some dung beetles for you Ron.”

“Hey,” he said following her to the refrigerator. Harry watched their exchange and sighed. They were right. There wasn't anything he could do. He had to deal with what was given to him, and what had been taken away. Maybe the prophecy was a joke, and the only reason Voldemort was going through with it was because he had heard and believed it. A self-fulfilling prophecy, that wouldn't be Harry's fault.

With a somewhat renewed conscience, Harry got up to help Hermione make the three of their lunch.

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

“You know, this is a lot of fun,” Hermione laughed as she put another marshmallow on the end of a stick and held it up to the fire. The fire, of course, was from her bed bonfire.

“This was a brilliant idea,” Ron said with his mouth full of hot dogs.

Hermione grimaced. “Can't you ever talk without your mouth full of food?”

Ron swallowed. “I was complimenting you. Can't you ever take a compliment like a normal person?”

“Not if I can see what their dinner looks like in their stomach.”

“Stop it you two. You're ruining our celebration.” Harry took a swig of his firewhisky.

Hermione giggled and swirled her wine around her glass. “And what exactly are we celebrating, Harry?”

“Your getting rid of that dolt and moving into my house of course.”

“Hear hear.” Ron raised his glass and the three of them toasted.

Hermione sat back on the couch that they had been too lazy to bring in the muggle way. She took another sip of her wine. “I'm getting drunk.”

“Good then, here's some more,” Ron said picking up the bottle of wine and pouring for her.

Hermione giggled and sunk further into the couch. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you two were getting me drunk on purpose.”

“Hermione, we're celebrating,” Harry said throwing his arm around her shoulder. “It wouldn't do justice to have a celebration without getting you drunk.”

Hermione snickered again and leaned into Harry's embrace. He kissed the top of her head and took another swig of his drink. “Sit back, enjoy the fire and…wait, I think that's it.”

Hermione and Ron broke out into wild laughter. “That was a great speech, mate! Sit back, enjoy and…wait…” Ron slapped his knee and let out a snort.

“Yes, it was lovely Harry, absolutely memorable.” Harry joined them in their doubled up fits and then sat back, noticing he felt entirely too content having Hermione resting in his arms. His blood warmed when she sighed contentedly, and the wine on her breath mixing with the alcohol in his system to create this sensation in his gut; something he had never felt before.

He leaned his head against hers and nuzzled his nose in her silky hair, taking in her sweet scent. He yawned, snuggling in closer to Hermione, faintly hearing Ron douse the flame, pick up their empty bottles of alcohol and cast an invisibility charm around Harry and Hermione before he went into the house. Harry's eyes grew heavy, and his breathing soon matched the slow and rhythmic pace of Hermione's, before he fell into a deep and content sleep.

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So, let me know what you think! 10 words in that box right below, that's all it takes. :D

Chapter 3 is on its way as you read this!

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3. Stuck In A Moment That You Can't Get Out Of

Thanks for your patience everyone. Here's chapter three! Enjoy!

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Without You

Chapter 3: Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of

U2

I'm not afraid
Of anything in this world
There's nothing you can throw at me
That I haven't already heard
I'm just trying to find
A decent melody
A song that I can sing
In my own company

I never thought you were a fool
But darling look at you
You gotta stand up straight
Carry your own weight
These tears are going nowhere baby

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

I will not forsake
The colours that you bring
The nights you filled with fireworks
They left you with nothing

I am still enchanted
By the light you brought to me
I listen through your ears
Through your eyes I can see

And you are such a fool
To worry like you do
I know it's tough
And you can never get enough
Of what you don't really need now
My, oh my

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

Oh love, look at you now
You've got yourself stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

I was unconscious, half asleep
The water is warm 'til you discover how deep

I wasn't jumping, for me it was a fall
It's a long way down to nothing at all

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if our way should falter
Along the stony pass

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass

It's just a moment
This time will pass

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

“I'm pretty sure we've looked in every book there is, Hermione. We're not going to find any more clues.”

“No, keep looking, the both of you,” Hermione said as she shuffled through pages. “I'm certain I've found something in one of these books but I just overlooked it.”

“Hermione, the thing we might be looking for probably isn't even in a book,” Harry said closing the book he was holding. “Tom Riddle's diary, no text would ever have a record of that.”

“And his father's ring. Dumbledore didn't get that from a book, Hermione.”

“But the locket we could have found from a book. Nagini, no,” she continued to thumb through pages. “I think we should go back to the history of horcruxes to get an understanding of what Voldemort might have done with his.”

“Here we go again,” Ron mumbled under his breath.

“Shh, listen: according to The Golden Bough, there is a Hindoo story that tells how a magician called Punchkin held a queen captive for twelve years, and would fain marry her, but she would not have him. At last the queen's son came to rescue her, and the two plotted together to kill Punchkin. So the queen spoke the magician fair, and pretended that she had at last made up her mind to marry him.

`And do tell me,' she said, `are you quite immortal? Can death never touch you? And are you too great an enchanter ever to feel human suffering?'

`It is true,' he said, `that I am not as others. Far, far away, hundreds of thousands of miles from this, there lies a desolate country covered with thick jungle. In the midst of the jungle grows a circle of palm trees, and in the centre of the circle stand six chattees full of water…”

“What the fuck is a chattee?” Ron asked and Hermione tried to ignore his foul language.

“It's something that holds stuff, now will you let me finish?” Ron sat back with a humph and Hermione turned back to the book. “'In the midst of the jungle grows a circle of palm trees, and in the centre of the circle stand six chattees full of water, piled one above another: below the sixth chattee is a small cage, which contains a little green parrot;--on the life of the parrot depends my life;--and if the parrot is killed I must die. It is, however,' he added, `impossible that the parrot should sustain any injury, both on account of the inaccessibility of the country, and because, by my appointment, many thousand genii surround the palm trees, and kill all who approach the place.'

“But the queen's young son overcame all difficulties, and got possession of the parrot. He brought it to the door of the magician's palace, and began playing with it. Punchkin, the magician, saw him, and, coming out, tried to persuade the boy to give him the parrot.

`Give me my parrot!' cried Punchkin. Then the boy took hold of the parrot and tore off one of his wings; and as he did so the magician's right arm fell off. Punchkin then stretched out his left arm, crying,

`Give me my parrot!' The prince pulled off the parrot's second wing, and the magician's left arm tumbled off.

`Give me my parrot!' cried he, and fell on his knees. The prince pulled off the parrot's right leg, the magician's right leg fell off; the prince pulled off the parrot's left leg, down fell the magician's left. Nothing remained of him except the trunk and the head; but still he rolled his eyes, and cried, `Give me my parrot!'

`Take your parrot, then,' cried the boy; and with that he wrung the bird's neck, and threw it at the magician; and, as he did so, Punchkin's head twisted round, and, with a fearful groan, he died!*'” She stopped reading and looked up at the two. “Harry, in your dream, after Voldemort killed Frank, he had to have transferred the last of his power into Nagini, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“So all we need to do is…”

“Find all these hidden objects, evade Voldemort once again and then kill his pet snake, all while dodging surprise attacks by Death Eaters.” Harry looked at Hermione doubtfully. “Piece of cake.”

She blushed, “Well, it's not going to be that easy…”

“You call that easy, Hermione?” Ron said with a bit of a raised voice.

“Look, both of you,” Harry put his hands up between them before they went at each other's throats. “Hermione's got a point here. The only problem is that Voldemort keeps that snake guarded as if…well, since his life depends on it.”

“Yes, and I think it's safe to assume that Voldemort is keeping part of his soul in that snake. I think we should make a check list of all the horcruxes that have been destroyed, and the ones still out there.”

“All right, Marvolo Gaunt's ring,” Harry started naming them off as Hermione's quill scratched the paper. “Tom Riddle's Diary, Salzar Slytherin's locket, Nagini…”

“Wait, Harry. Nagini hasn't been killed yet.”

“Oh right, sorry. So just the ring, the locket and the diary have been destroyed.”

Scratch scratch. “All right, now what are we putting on our search list?”

“Oh, right. Nagini, uhh,” scratch scratch went the quill. “I think Dumbledore said something about a cup that Helga Hufflepuff had.”

“Yes, I remember you telling me about it. I've all ready looked up some of the history behind the cup and taken notes about it.” She still didn't look up from the paper. “What else, Harry.”

“Oh, well Dumbledore didn't really tell me about any other objects, but he did say that Voldemort is trying to use objects that are close to him, ones that symbolize his place at Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding World.”

“That makes sense. So the Locket was Slytherin's, the cup is Helga Hufflepuff's, what could we find that is Ravenclaw and Gryffindor's?”

“Wait, Harry,” Ron interjected. “What about the sword you pulled out of the hat? Do you think that could be…”

“No, Dumbledore said it hadn't left the hat since Gryffindor stowed it there, and that hat has been under the headmasters' eyes for centuries.”

“But Harry, Tom Riddle also found the chamber of secrets on his own,” Hermione looked at him pointedly. “He showed a lot of expertise when it came to Hogwarts. I think Ron's got a point here.”

“You're damn right I do,” Ron said puffing up his chest.

“Oh sit down Ron.” Ron sulked back into his chair. “Harry, did you see anything strange about the sword…feel anything weird when you held it in your hands?”

He shook his head. “I didn't notice anything about it, but then again, I'm sure there wasn't anything strange about that ring either, and his journal seemed like something normal until I wrote in it.”

“But the locket you couldn't open,” she pointed out. “Harry, were there any strange carvings on it, anything missing?”

“Wait…” Harry said suddenly, forcing his mind to reel back to the last time he held the sword. He remembered feeling a circular patch of jagged metal pressing into his palm as he raced through the Chamber…

And then it came to him. There had been a place for seven rubies…”One of the rubies on it was missing.”

Hermione and Ron sat up with enthusiasm. “What did it look like, mate?”

“I dunno, it was about this big,” He held up his hand, curling his finger into a small circle. “And had cuts around it like any normal ruby would have. It would have to be impossible to find.”

“Not necessarily, Harry,” Hermione said beaming. “For you to fit the prophecy, you had to have been born at the end of July to parents who have defied Voldemort three times…”

“Hermione,” Ron said in awe. “You're not suggesting…”

“Harry, I think you might know what I'm going to ask you, and I understand if you don't want to, but…”

“No,” he said right away. “It's time I went back.”

Hermione smiled. “It's settled then. We're off to Godric's Hollow, tonight.”

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

“So what exactly is it you three are looking for?” Tonks asked as she walked in between Remus Lupin and Hermione.

“Well, that depends. Professor…”

“I'm not your professor anymore dear.”

Hermione blushed. “Yes, of course, er—Remus.”

“Yes?” Tonks sniggered into her hand as Remus Lupin gave Hermione an amused grin.

“Did Harry's mother by any chance have a necklace with a red stone in the middle of it?”

Remus stopped suddenly, and everyone hesitated a moment before they had realized what had happened. Tonks was the first to speak. “Remus, what?”

“How did you know about that mission?”

“What mission?” Harry stepped in to stand right next to Hermione.

“Harry, I would have assumed that if you knew about the necklace you knew about—”

“What mission!” Harry yelled at his former professor. His face was steaming, his fingers clenching and unclenching.

Lupin looked around and saw a bench nearby, summoning them all to follow him. “Harry, it was twenty years ago, before your mum even knew she was pregnant with you.”

“What happened? Dumbledore sent them, didn't he?”

“Harry they were Order members, it was their duty,” Tonks said lightly.

Harry sat back quietly, and Remus assumed it would be safe to continue. “Dumbledore never knew about this mission, Harry. The last time Lily and James had encountered Voldemort, Lily managed to rebound a spell back at him, and nearly hit him. She said that he was wearing this necklace, and she couldn't help noticing because of its colour. I remember, she said it was blood red, just like his eyes…

“I told them it was worthless, that it was just a sentimental piece of jewellery that he had kept from childhood, but I guess they really were onto something if you three are asking about it.”

“Voldemort doesn't have any sentiments unless it will keep him alive,” Harry said matter-of-factly.

“And you're absolutely correct, Harry. That necklace obviously holds something in it that Voldemort is adamant on keeping.” The trio gazed at each other, silently promising not to share the news of the horcruxes just yet.

“So your parents set off one night; I have no idea how the hell they knew where Voldemort would be, but they found him. When they came back here, Sirius and I were waiting for them, almost ready to jump them for going off on their own.” Harry looked over at Hermione who seemed to have turned ten shades of pink. They were both obviously thinking about the library incident.

“I still don't know how they did it; they never told us, but they found that necklace and hid it somewhere. A few days later your mum started getting sick.” Harry's eyes went wide.

“What was wrong with her?”

“She was pregnant with you,” Hermione finished for Remus.

“Yes, quite right, Hermione. That was when Dumbledore forbid your parents from going on any more missions.”

“But why did you never tell Dumbledore about the necklace? Even after my parents had died?”

“They were intent on keeping it a secret, Harry. They forced Sirius and me to perform a Fidelius charm on ourselves to keep it from Dumbledore.”

“But why would they want to keep it from him?”

Remus gazed at Harry for a few seconds. “Your guess is as good as mine. I'd almost forgotten about it until now.”

“So where is Godric's Hollow?” Ron asked as he stood up.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Remus started to sift through his pocket and produced a piece of paper. “Don't look at it until I tell you to. It's just over that street. Destroy the paper when you've seen what's written on it.”

“Is it hidden?” Hermione asked.

“Oh yes. Dumbledore made sure the house would look a wreck, just as it had been when Voldemort came that night so that no one would think twice on it. When you look at that paper, the house will be transformed to our vision, and be just as it was when you lived there.”

The thought of what the house would look like sent a chill through Harry's body. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see the place his parents had been murdered; the place where he had almost been killed the first time…

“Are you all right, mate?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine.”

“You don't have to come in if you can't, Harry. Ron and I can look for it.”

“No,” Harry said determinedly, “I'd like to go in.

“That's good, because here it is. Look to your left, Harry.”

The trio stopped and looked in the direction Remus motioned to. Enormous weeping willows covered the lot, and Harry found it almost ironic that they should be so large and wilted.

The house itself had shutters hanging on by nails; shattered windows that were boarded up. The paint was chipping, but had clearly been white at one point in its better days. There were large columns that propped themselves up in front of the door, but nothing left on the front step. No dead flowers, nothing, just concrete and wood.

“Take out the paper, Harry,” Hermione whispered close to his ear. It sent a surge through his blood, but he pushed it down as he fetched the piece of paper form his pocket.

“This house you see in shambles is plain old, but handsome Godric's Hollow. Domus hospito, Harry. Welcome home, Harry.” Harry recognized the writing to be Rumus' neat scrawl.

Ron took the paper and destroyed it when Harry didn't move and a tear made its way down his cheek. Hermione squeezed his shoulder as the house took form before their eyes.

An invisible, but nonetheless present force swept around the house, trimming the lawn to a perfect length, re-painting years of degrading wood, and nailing in lost shingles. It took place so slowly that Harry believed it was a dream; that it happened in an entire night. He was pulled back to reality by a tug on his arm from Ron.

“Come on, mate. Let's go find that necklace.”

Harry didn't want to move; his feet felt like they weighed more than they ever had in his entire life. He managed to drag himself up the steps and with shaking hands, was given the honour of turning the knob to open the front door. It creaked as he slid it open, and felt Hermione take his hand and give it a squeeze as he gradually stepped inside.

It was dark; there were sheets over all the furniture. Hermione let go of his hand to allow him to trace the intricate design on the mantle above the fireplace. So many emotions filled him that he didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or start throwing things out of rage.

He looked towards the stairs, then staggered over to them, grabbing the railing and forcing himself to move upstairs. Voices rang through his head; painful voices he pushed down so deep, yet couldn't let go because they were all he had left of his family.

“Lily, take Harry and run. I'll hold him off as long as I can.”

“Mghhhh,” Harry groaned, clamping his hands over his ears. Hermione and Ron were by his side in an instant.

“Are you all right? What's wrong?”

“Can you get up, mate?”

Harry pushed them off him half-heartedly and stood to continue up the stairs. At the top of the landing there were six rooms. He chose the one directly to his right as if he had lived there his entire life.

He walked through the door, not seeing a cradle as he anticipated, but a toy chest in the corner, and a baby changing table.

“No, not Harry. Take me instead.”

“Aghhhh.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks now and he didn't care anymore who saw him cry. He didn't bloody give a damn.

Harry gave another aggrieved shout as his arm came in contact with the bookshelf lining the wall, and all his childhood books fell with a resounding thud. He didn't stop, and pushed his way out of the room, making his way over to the large door at the end of the hallway. It was locked, and Harry didn't even bother with an unlocking spell. The anger he felt for Voldemort blew the door off its hinges as he pushed his way into his parent's room.

“Harry!” Hermione yelled as everyone chased after him.

“Where is it?” He shouted as he sifted through drawers, dumping things out onto the floor, not bothering to pick them up. “Where the bloody hell did my mum put the damn thing?”

“Harry, look,” Ron pointed to a lump taped to the underside of the dresser drawer. Harry shoved his hand into the hole, and felt around for the parcel. He ripped it off the wood and unwrapped it, wasting no time and not caring that he shred the paper that was covering it. A moment later, a rather large velvet black box was sitting in his hands. Now that it was here, he didn't want to open it.

“I can't. You do it, Hermione,” he choked, shoving the box into her hands. She, too, was hesitant, but after a moment finally pulled the lid up to uncover a deep red ruby situated in the middle of a pennant on a heavy gold chain.

“Bloody hell, mate,” Ron said in astonishment. “We found it.”

Harry wasn't listening, however. He had situated himself on his parent's bed, another box in his hand, open, and he was looking at the most beautiful ring in the entire world.

“Harry, what—“

“That was your mum's ring, Harry…” Remus said solemnly. “Or rather, it was James' grandmother's ring. He kept it until he met Lily, then he put it on her finger.”

Harry took his glasses off his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. He stayed like that for a moment, and took a deep breath, closing the box before putting it in his pocket. “I want to go home now.”

“Hermione will take you, mate. We'll clean up here and leave afterward.”

Harry nodded blankly before he let Hermione take his arm as she apparated them both back to Grimmauld Place. He was in no shape to apparate himself.

When they landed in Harry's room, Hermione took his cloak and shoes off, and pulled him over to the bed. She kissed his scar and ran her hands through his hair affectionately. He let out a sob and pulled her tightly to him, clenching one fist in her hair; the other gripped tightly to her back.

“Oh God, Hermione. I-I,” he sobbed uncontrollably into her hair, knowing she would never judge him. She wouldn't care if he cried over spilling his ice cream cone on the ground and she wouldn't care if he cried over his dead parents; he just needed to hold her; hold onto her with every last ounce of hope left in him.

“Harry?” she sniffed. He pulled back and realized she was crying too. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached up and wiped her cheeks. She grabbed his wrists and held his hands there. “Do you want me to read you a story?”

He looked at her quizzically, until she pulled something out of her cloak, and he immediately recognized it as one of the dusty books he had knocked over. A new wave of emotions blew over him at that moment as he choked on a laugh and nodded, sinking back into the bed and let her crawl in next to him, pulling her tight against his side. She opened the book and began reading.

“A mother held her new baby and

very slowly rocked him back and forth,

back and forth, back and forth.

And while she held him, she sang:

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

My baby you'll be.”

Harry closed his eyes and rested his head against Hermione's shoulder, listening to her voice rocking his conscience back and forth, lulling him to sleep.

___________________________________________

Wow, that took me a while. Poor Harry…I don't want to imagine what his life is like…

*Story taken from Wikipedia online dictionary. For more history on horcruxes, go to this website:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horcrux#Known_Horcruxes

*For more history of Godric's hollow, go to this website:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godric%27s_Hollow

*For more information on Lord Voldemort:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_Voldemort#History

*For more information about the Gaunt family:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_House_of_Gaunt

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4. I Really Want You

Chapter 4 here! Enjoy!

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

Without You

Chapter 4: I Really Want You

James Blunt

I really want you
I really want you
I really want you now

Many prophets preach on bended knee
Many clerics wasted wine
Through those bloody sheets
On those cardboard streets
I have wasted time

I really want you to really want me
But I really don't know if you can do that
I know you want to know what's right
But I know it's so hard for you to do that
And time's running out as often it does
And often dictates that you can't do that
If they can't break this feeling inside
That's burning up through my veins

I really want you
I really want you
I really want you now

I really want you to really want me
But I really don't know if you can do that
I know you want to know what's right
But I know it's so hard for you to do that
And time's running out as often it does
And often dictates that you can't do that
If they can't break this feeling inside
That's burning up through my veins

I really want you
I really want you
I really want you now

I want you (x12)
Now

I really want you to really want me
But I really don't know if you can do that
I know you want to know what's right
But I know it's so hard for you to do that
And time's running out as often it does
And often dictates that you can't do that
If they can't break this feeling inside
That's burning up through my veins

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

“I know I saw something on Rowena Ravenclaw here a few days ago. There's got to be some sort of leitmotif going on here with the horcruxes.”

“Hermione, I don't speak French,” Ron said as he thumbed through his Quidditch magazine intently. “Wait, yes I do. You're barking mad, pardon my French.”

Hermione sighed. “A theme, Ronald. There's got to be a theme that Voldemort is following. We know of three horcruxes that belong to three of the four founders of Hogwarts.” She continued to flip through the thing pages that made up an unbelievably thick book. “Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin…I know I saw something important about Rowena Ravenclaw.”

Hermione stood up excitedly, pointing to a page in the book. “Here it is! Listen: Rowena Ravenclaw was a pureblood wizard born on the 22nd January, over a thousand years ago. Rowena shared a tight relationship with her wise grandfather, Loberus Ravenclaw. Loberus always wore a small pendant around his neck, which he said held all the lessons he had ever learned because he had worn it through them all. The pendant was of rich turquoise stone in which an ivory eagle's head was embedded.
When Loberus Ravenclaw died, he left the eagle pendant to Rowena, who wore it always from then on…this is it you two! This is the last horcrux!*”

“Wonderful Hermione,” Ron said sarcastically. “So how exactly are we supposed to figure out who has it?”

“Well, at least we know exactly what it is we are looking for, Ronald!”

“Hermione, not to ruin your little moment of pride, but we all ready have one horcrux on our hands that we have to get rid of before we go off searching for new ones,” Ron said looking toward Harry who had the ruby necklace in his hands, idly turning it over and then back again. “Oy, mate! Doesn't it bother you that you have part of Voldemort's soul in your hand?”

Harry looked up at Ron blankly. “Does it bother you that I'm a parselmouth because Voldemort transferred some of his powers into me?”

“Right. Point taken.”

Hermione stood up and walked over to the couch where Harry was sitting. “Harry, are you all right?”

Harry shrugged. “I suppose.” Ron came to sit down on his left. “Why shouldn't I be? We found another horcrux, didn't we?”

“Look, I know last night was hard for you, and we just want to make sure…”

“That I'm fine? Yes, Hermione. I'm fine, all right. Am I okay? No, I'm not.” Harry stood up and ignored the crash that followed as Ron fell off the arm of the couch. “Why am I not okay? Because this—this bastard killed my parents and what do I get if I kill him? I don't get my parents back. I'll never get my parents back.”

“Oh, Harry.”

“YOU STUPID FUCK!” Harry screamed as he threw the pennant across the room. It smashed through the glass of a trophy case and not a second later the entire side of the room blew out, sending shards of wood and glass flying everywhere.

“AHHHHHH GOD!” Harry stomped over to the mirror, pounding his fist against it as it, too shattered to pieces. “FUUUUCK!”

“Harry, you're bleeding! Please—”

“NO!” He shouted wrenching his hand out of her grasp. This rage that filled his gut and seeped through his bones was so overwhelming that it made him terrified he might strike her. She tried to reach for him again but he ducked. “DON'T TOUCH ME, HERMIONE!”

She coiled back, as though he had slapped her across the face. Instead of running over to hold her, smooth her hair, kiss her and tell her how sorry he was, he tread heavily over to the bookshelf and started tearing books down, two at a time, stopping to tear the binding off of one. He could almost feel Hermione cringe behind him as he grappled and ripped the books apart, turning around to upturn the table next to him.

“FUCK YOU, TOM RIDDLE FOR KILLING MY PARENTS! YOU KILLED THEM, YOU BASTARD!” He tore a clock off of the wall, sending it to shatter on the floor below, still screaming to the invisible presence. “I'LL KILL YOU; MAKE SURE YOU GO STRAIGHT TO HELL FOR IT, MERLIN HELP ME! I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU BEG FOR DEATH!”

“Harry, look!” Ron shouted. Seething, teeth grinding, and surrounded in books, Harry turned around just in time to see the pendant he had thrown was floating in midair. There was a gold sphere surrounding the ruby that disappeared suddenly. It dropped to the floor with a resounding clunk.

The three of them stood perfectly still, almost afraid to move. The rage that had built in Harry died down and he was the first to make his way over to the necklace.

“No! Wait, Harry!” He didn't listen to her, though. Carefully he walked over to the horcrux, and peered down into the rubble. It was covered in shards of wood and he brushed them aside, picking it up and blowing the dust off the centrepiece. A grin broke across his face.

“It's gone,” he said as Hermione and Ron rushed to take a look at it.

“Look at that crack,” Hermione reached out to brush her finger against the ruby and accidentally brushed Harry's arm, making a shiver run down his spine. “Is that what the ring looked like, Harry? Marvolo Gaunt's ring?”

Harry nodded, passing the pendant off to Ron to examine. “Yeah, Dumbledore gave it to me to look at and it had cracked just like this one.”

“But I don't understand,” Hermione looked toward the pendant again. “When Dumbledore destroyed the ring, didn't he have a horrible scar on his hand?”

Harry pondered this for a moment. “Yeah, he said the ring had been curs—oh bloody hell. Ron, put it down!”

“I-I can't,” Ron stuttered as his hands began to shake. “Fuck, I can't let go of it.”

Harry and Hermione grappled at his hands, trying to pry his fingers off. They tugged at his arm in vain, and Hermione was the first to back off. Harry looked down to see why she would pull back and was almost cut by the claws that were growing out of Ron's fingers.

“Bloody hell, Harry. What the fuck is going on?” Ron watched his hands as the claws grew and his fingers shrunk. Suddenly, the red hair on his arm grew thicker and his fingers shortened. Harry and Hermione could do nothing as they stood there, watching as Ron transformed.

“He's turning into a bloody lion, Hermione! We have to do something.”

“Constringio,” Hermione shouted before Harry could even think of what to do. A silver cage surrounded him as Ron let out a low growl that shook the room. “We have to get him to St. Mungo's, Harry.”

“W-what? We can't tell them what we've been doing!”

“What other choice do we have, Harry?” She screamed as Ron swiped at her from behind the bars. Harry pulled her back without thinking, flush against his body. She gripped his arm painfully and would have left a mark from her fingernails had he not been wearing a long-sleeved shirt.

“R-right, let's go.”

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

“I don't know what you kids thought you were doing, but he's lucky you brought him in when you did. That pendant was cursed and could have killed him!” The healer who had been taking care of Ron leaned against the door, scowling at them.

“AGH,” Harry cried out as another healer pulled the chunks of glass out of his hand and tapped the wound with his wand, magically sealing up the cuts.

“With all do respect, sir. We had only found the pendant in a chest and were passing it around when…”

“I think Harry Potter and his friends should know, more than anyone, that mysterious objects should not be handled without checking them first.”

“Hey! I-OW!”

“Sorry,” the healer said dully as he Vanished the piece of glass and healed the skin that had been punctured.

“Sir, do you know how to check to see if objects are, well, dangerous?”

Aaron Mulligan quirked an eyebrow at her. “I thought they might have all ready taught you that in that school of yours.” The healer pulled his wand from his white coat and threw a sickle on the ground. “It's simple, really. You just point at the object and say, `latito periculum.'” The sickle glowed green and, fading almost as soon as it had started. The healer bent down to pick it up. “See? Simple. It glows red if there's something on it like a curse or a jinx.”

“Oh, we tried that one,” Hermione lied. Harry smirked at her sharp remark and started coughing to conceal his laughter. “I was wondering if there was one to detect dark magic.”

Healer Mulligan looked at her suspiciously. Harry knew what Hermione was trying to get at and momentarily had a sinking feeling that he wasn't buying her question. “Why would you want to know something like that?”

“W-well, with the return of Voldemort—will you be careful with that! You could hurt him!” She shouted at the healer who was trying to fix Harry's hand up. The man had jumped at the mention of Voldemort's name, poking Harry hard with his wand. Harry muttered a curse under his breath. “With the return of Voldemort, and all, you just don't know what's dangerous, and what's deadly.”

Mulligan shook his head. “I don't know of any other spells to detect curses other than that one, I'm sorry.”

Hermione nodded and Harry interjected. “Do you know when we might get to see Ron?”

Healer Mulligan shook his head. “It's hard to tell. We've sedated him so that he doesn't try to attack anyone, but it's going to take a few days for us to brew the potion that will start to turn him back.”

“So what can we do right now?” Hermione asked, moving closer to Harry as he jumped down from the bed, flexing his newly-healed hand.

“There's no use in sticking around here. You two would be better off going home than staying here. He's unconscious, and even when he's awake, he's only interested in eating.”

“Can we come back tomorrow to check up on him?”

“If you want,” the man checked his watch impatiently. “We won't be able to do anything drastic for a few days. I have to go check another patient so if you'll excuse me…” the healer pushed his way past Harry and Hermione before disapparating from sight.

“I don't like that man,” Harry said matter-of-factly. “He's a jerk.”

Hermione smiled, slipping her hand around his middle and drawing him into a hug. “You're so sweet, Harry, looking out for Ron and I like you do.”

Harry smiled and drew her closer to him, holding her tightly. Merlin, he couldn't believe he had almost hit her before. He didn't know if he would have forgiven himself for doing that. “I'm sorry.”

She pulled back, still holding onto his waist. “For what?”

“For getting so upset earlier.” Harry hung his head, taking one of her hands in his; sliding his fingers between her own. “I-I was so upset that I felt…fuck. I felt like I could have hit you when you touched me, Hermione.”

“Oh, Harry,” she said, gently touching her forehead to his. He gazed into her eyes and felt his stomach drop. This feeling was greater than when he asked Cho Chang to the Yule Ball. It was greater than the first and last time he had kissed Ginny…and even stronger when his heart had broken when Ginny told him that she had moved on…to Neville. This warmth that was spreading through him was the feeling he got when he was flying; the excitement he experienced when he caught the snitch. It even felt like all those times he had fallen from his broom; completely helpless, yet exhilarating. He wasn't sure a person could feel such a mix of emotions at once, but here he was standing, feeling all these things for Hermione.

And her eyes…God. They were stunning. He could stare at her forever.

He wanted her; God did he want her.

He wanted to kiss her, touch her; feel what it was like to have her beneath him as he kissed her skin. He wanted to hold her breasts, hear her moan, no…not moan. He wanted her to scream his name as he…

She kissed his cheek, moving away from him. He stepped back, face flushed as though she had heard everything he had just been thinking. It amazed him how someone could feel all those things by just looking in her eyes.

Taking his hand in hers, she whispered, “Let's go home.” He nodded numbly, following her as she disapparated.

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

Voldemort roared, upturning tables, throwing curses at portraits; one even hit Wormtail, burning his good arm badly. Bellatrix Lestrange trembled in the corner of the room, waiting for her Lord to punish her; she knew he would.

“I can feel it! He destroyed another one!” Wormtail sat against the wall, his injured arm tucked against his chest. Voldemort ignored his cowering form and moved onto Bellatrix. He grabbed at her roughly and she shrieked. Instead of strangling her like she had expected, he reached for the necklace that was around her neck.

“If you let him get this pendant, Bella, I will take pleasure in watching Potter kill you.” He gripped the necklace, using it to throw her to the floor. Bellatrix whimpered, clutching the necklace tightly in her fingers. It was made of smooth ivory in resemblance of an eagle, with a turquoise stone for the eye. Bellatrix knew of its importance, but beyond Voldemort's use, she knew nothing of the pendant.

“I-I will guard it with my life, my Lord.”

He had his back turned to her. “If I had any doubts of that, I would kill you myself.” He turned to Wormtail. “Get up, you pathetic mess. Go get me Nagini. We must bring her somewhere safe tonight.”

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

So, chapter 4 down…16 to go…I think. Maybe 15 maybe 16. Let me know what you think!

*For more information on Rowena Ravenclaw and her grandfather's pendant, see these sites:

http://embarktohogwarts.tripod.com/subbook2.htm

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5. (They Long To Be) Close To You

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I hope this chapter can top the last one. :D

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Without You

Chapter 5: (They Long to Be) Close To You

The Carpenters

Why do birds suddenly appear

Every time you are near?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.

Why do stars fall down from the sky

Every time you walk by?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.

On the day that you were born

The angels got together

And decided to create a dream come true

So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold

And starlight in your eyes of blue.

That is why all the girls in town

Follow you all around.

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.

On the day that you were born

The angels got together

And decided to create a dream come true

So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold

And starlight in your eyes of blue.

That is why all the girls in town

Follow you all around.

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.

Just like me (Just like me)

They long to be

Close to you.

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“It's good that they've calmed him a bit,” Harry said before biting into a muffin. “At least he doesn't look at us like we're dinner every time we enter the room”

Hermione sighed. “Harry can you please not…”

“Talk with my mouth full,” Harry grinned at her and swallowed his breakfast as she sat across from him at the table. “Now that Ron's not here for you to berate, I suppose you have to have—what?”

She was sitting there, her chin resting in one of her hands. The look in her eye was almost too hopeful to him. Her face held the loveliest gaze; her sideways grin and her heavy-lidded eyes put him in mind of someone who had just woken up from a night of enthusiastic shagging. It looked wonderful on her.

She sat up, shaking her head and focused her eyes on the cereal she had placed in front of herself. “Oh, it's nothing. I-I was just thinking about where we could possibly find that cup.”

“Oh, you mean the Hufflepuff cup?” Harry asked, noticing how jumpy she seemed. “Yeah, I wondered if we're ever going to figure out where that bastard put it.”

“Or if it's been moved since Voldemort put it wherever he did,” she said matter-of-factly. “Don't forget, Harry. Lucius Malfoy had no idea the diary was a Horcrux. He only knew that it held some dark magic, and it had the possibility of getting Mr. Weasley framed. And the locket.”

“Yeah, I know. Thank God Kreacher was good for something and kept the damned thing when we tried to throw it out.”

“I'm surprised we didn't see the markings on it earlier.” She ate a spoonful of cereal. “I mean, the carvings on it clearly identified it as Slytherin's. We should have know—what?”

Harry was laughing. “I just find it funny that you yell at me for eating with my mouth full, and here you are doing the same thing.” Hermione turned scarlet as Harry continued to laugh. “Oh don't worry about it, I'm just teasing you. You're drooling, though.”

Before he could even think of what he was doing, he reached across the table and wiped the drop of milk off the corner of Hermione's lip with his thumb. Her eyes widened and he froze, not being able to move his hand from her. His hand was cupping her chin and his thumb briefly brushed across her lip, sending a fleet of blood south in Harry's body. They stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time, until Harry finally got the motor functions back in his hand, jerking it back and standing up, trying to adjust his pants.

“I—uh, I'm going to go take my morning shower,” he said shakily as he threw the rest of his muffin in the garbage. “I'll see you in a bit.” Before Hermione could get a word in, Harry hurried through the kitchen door and up the stairs to the second story bathroom where he locked the door, discarded his clothes quickly, and turned the shower on as fast as he could.

“Agh, bloody hell!” Harry shouted as he stepped into the scalding hot shower. He adjusted the temperature and his hand gripped his cock before he could even remember why he was doing this.

Harry let out a guttural moan as he leaned back against the wall of the shower, his hand pumping away.

Images of Hermione came to mind as rough noises emitted from his throat. He closed his eyes and imagined her here, in the shower, with him. She smiled cheekily at him and took his aching member softly into her hand. He couldn't imagine Hermione was one to be rough at first.

Pulling and twisting, he envisioned her stepping close to him, running her tongue along his throat, nipping and breathing hotly into his ear, “I want you to come for me.”

Two more tugs were all it took for him to growl as a surge blew over him, pushing him back against the wall and making him unstable. Panting, he slid to the floor of the shower and put his head in his hands, not caring that the water was still pounding from above him.

“Oh bloody hell,” he moaned. “I'm in fucking trouble.”

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

Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the day in the library, looking up possible places the cup could be hidden. Harry was having trouble concentrating on the book he was reading as he kept sneaking glances over at Hermione.

She was sitting with books piled up on either side of her, and chewing on her bottom lip as she skimmed pages. It left him bewildered as to why he had never looked at her this way before. Why had this little habit of biting her bottom lip never affected him before? Before it had been Ginny he would notice these things about and visions of Ginny during masturbation sessions had never brought him to the orgasm he had experienced earlier. Nothing could compare to that. Damn, he was a bloody wanker.

“Have you found anything?” Hermione asked, looking up from her book.

“I-uh, no. I haven't.”

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him, reached across the table and took his book, flipping it upside down. “It might help if you're reading it the right way.”

Fuck. He was a mess.

“Are you all right, Hary?” She asked. There was no way in hell he could tell her what exactly he had been thinking moments ago, so he nodded and forced himself to be interested in the book he was looking through. The antidote to the Swelling Solution is the Deflating Draught which causes anything swollen by magical means to shrink back to normal size. No, no.

Harry flipped to the next page. The Invigoration Draught: fortifies and increases the user's constitution.

Harry slammed the book shut. Why the hell he was looking through a potions book was beyond him.

Hermione looked up from her book with an inquisitive gaze. Harry laughed sheepishly. “I'm done with this one; off to get another.”

“You know, Harry,” she said closing her own book. “I'm tired of looking through these books for the answer. For all that we know, the whereabouts of the cup are most likely not even in a book.”

Harry had to grin. “Does this mean Hermione Granger is doubting the reliability of books?”

Hermione blushed. “No, of course not! I-I just think the answer to our problem isn't in some book. I mean, even if we did find some clue to where it was, these books were published far too long ago for it not to have been moved several times.”

“What we should be doing is going to Knockturn Alley, see if it pops up there…”

“Oh Harry, be reasonable about this.”

“I am.”

“Oh, honestly! Do you think Voldemort would allow his soul to be displayed in public where it could have the potential of being bought, sold or roughly handled?”

Her last comment made him shiver slightly, but he regained his composure. “Hermione, I think it's perfect.”

He gave her a knowing glance as a grin spread across her face.

“Harry Potter, you are a genius!”

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

Just as Harry had anticipated, Diagon Alley was empty. With the recent threats of Voldemort, and all the children in school, it was rare to see the streets packed anymore. What did surprise Harry, however, was how busy Knockturn Alley was.

Hideous wizards and some old hags filled the streets and made the atmosphere seem like one big funeral. Unpleasant odors filled the air, and Harry tried to walk as quickly as he could.

“I don't know if this is a good idea,” Hermione said next to him, wrapped in a black cloak that covered her head and body. Every once in a while she would trip over it because it was too long for her. Harry's was a tad short. Ironically, they found them in the Sirius' parents closet.

“As long as we don't talk too much, no one will know a difference,” Harry whispered to her. “And no names, I don't want people to know who we are.”

“R-right.”

“Here it is,” Harry said as he turned into a shop with strange and repulsive objects loitering the window.

“Borgin and Burkes?” Hermione asked quietly. Harry didn't answer her, though, as he tugged Hermione over to a shelf full of whizzing gadgets. The store owner eyed them suspiciously from his chair.

“Pretend like you're interested in that—thing. Whatever it is,” Harry whispered. He could hear the chair scrape along the floor as the owner stood up and made his way over to Harry and Hermione.

“What the hell are you two looking for?” he asked.

“Oh, well my wife and I are looking for something to display in our kitchen,” Harry said, disguising his voice as much as possible. “We both went to Hogwarts and are looking for a memento to remember our time there.”

“Hmmm,” the man's voice was gruff. “Is there something specific?” He began walking toward the back of the store.

“Well, we were looking for something related to the house of Hufflepuff,” Hermione added, disguising her voice as well.

The man stopped, and it seemed to take him forever to turn around.

“What the hell are you two doing here?”

“W-we were in that house, w-when we went to school at Hogwarts,” Hermione stuttered.

The man glared at the two. “Don't lie to me! Get the fuck out of my store, Potter. The cup's not here.”

Harry jumped; bewildered as to how the man could tell it was him, and what he was looking for.

The owner scoffed. “Don't think just anyone can be a legilimens, eh? Where do you think Riddle learned it from, books? Now get the fuck out of my store!” They didn't have to be told twice. Harry and Hermione apparated out of the store, and back to Grimmauld Place.

“Harry! We have to be more careful about this! He could have killed us!” Hermione shouted, pulling the robe off of her and throwing it to the ground. “I can't believe we just did that, and we learned nothing!”

Harry had to grin. “That's a lie, Hermione.”

“What?”

“You have to promise you won't tell anyone Hermione.” He couldn't believe he was telling her this. He took in a deep breath. “I can do legilimancy too, Hermione.”

Her jaw dropped, and he thought he saw her cheeks turn a bit red. “But, what, how—”

“I'm not very good at it, and I can only get it right when I'm desperate to find out information, but I can do it, Hermione, and I feel sick about it.”

“But—but why would you keep it a secret? Shouldn't we tell Lupin or—”

“No, no, I don't want anyone to know,” he said quickly, sitting down on the drawing room couch

“But, why?”

Harry sighed. “Because if everyone knew that I had some capability of looking into their minds, don't you think they'd act differently around me?” Hermione looked confused. “I don't want people thinking that I'd go snooping around their minds just for fun…and I certainly don't want you to think that I've—”

“Harry, I would never think that,” Hermione said softly. “I don't think Lupin would, either. I think it's important that you tell him, and learn how to better control your mind through Occlumency.”

“The only skilled Occlumens around is Snape,” Harry said with a huff. “And we all know how great he is, the git.”

“No, you don't understand, Harry. Occlumancy is something I can research and teach you to do, even if I can't do it that well myself. We might have to make a trip to Hogwarts and ask Madam Pince if we can take a look around the restricted section for a book on the subject.”

Harry smirked. “Good, and while we're there, we can pick up Hufflepuff's cup.”

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

Muahaha. I know I'm evil for cutting it off there, but I had to. :D

Love! *Author spreads love out to her readers.*

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6. For You I Will

Thank you all for your patience! Here's chapter 6!

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

Without You

Chapter 6: For You I Will

Teddy Geiger

Wondering the streets, in a world underneath it all
Nothing seems to be, nothing tastes as sweet
As what I can't have
Like you and the way that you're twisting your hair
round your finger
Tonight I'm not afraid to tell you
What I feel about you.

Oh, I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
and cannon ball into the water
I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
For you I will
For you I will

Forgive me if I st-stutter
From all of the clutter in my head
Cuz I could fall asleep in those eyes
Like a water bed
Do I seem familiar, I've crossed you in hallways
a thousand times, no more camouflage
I want to be exposed, and not be afraid to fall.

Oh, I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
And cannon ball into the water
I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
For you I will
You always want what you can't have
But I've got to try
I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
For you I will
For you I will
For you I will
For you

If I could dim the lights in the mall
And create a mood I would
Shout out your name so it echos in every room
I would

That's what I'd do, That's what I'd do to get through to you, yeah

Oh, I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
And cannon ball into the water
I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
For you I will
You always want what you can't have
But I've got to try
I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
For you I will
For you I will
For you I will
For you I will

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

“W-wait, Harry.” Hermione had sat down on the bed that had graciously been there before her knees went too weak from the news. “What do you mean the cup is at Hogwarts?”

Harry grinned. “I told you I could do legilimancy when I really wanted to.”

“Oh, Harry!” She jumped into his arms, squeezing the life out of him before they crashed to the floor. Both their cheeks grew scarlet as Harry muttered an apology before helping her up. “So where is it?”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno, I don't even think the store owner knew where it was; only that it was at Hogwarts.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, well it's a good start, definitely.” She began to walk out of the drawing room “I think if we go back up to the library, we might find—”

“No,” Harry grabbed her arm and swung her back around to face him. “I really think we both need a short break before running after this one.”

“You mean—”

“I mean, I think we should go see Ron tomorrow, since he's getting better and all, b-but I also want to go, you know, to see my—well, my parents.”

Hermione's face fell as she looked at Harry empathetically. “Harry,” she said softly, placing a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Are you sure?”

Harry sniffed. “Yeah. I need to; I need to more than anything right now.”

“Then I'll go with you.”

Harry nodded and offered her a weak smile. “I would like that.” Her hand on his cheek was warm, and soft. He could hardly get past the thought of turning his head and kissing her palm, and was thoroughly happy when she moved her hand to his waist to draw him into a tight hug.

He loved holding her; it was the most perfect thing in the world. Having her arms around him, smoothing his hair like she did; it was almost motherly the way she would pet his hair. It was calming and made him feel worth living. Having grown up with such unloving people had made his craving for love so intense that he would kill just to hold her in his arms.

He would fight Voldemort a hundred times over if it meant he'd be able to hold her in his arms forever.

She turned her head and kissed the back of his jaw; the spot just below his ear and he shivered, but she didn't move to retract. This made a tear slip down his cheek as he choked oxygen into his lungs.

Finally she did pull back and ran her fingers through his hair, moving to trace his scar with her finger. “You know I'll always be here for you, Harry Potter.”

He still had his hands around her waist as he nodded weakly. “I know you will,” he said in a strangled sob. She reached up to dry his cheek with her thumb and he enfolded her back into his arms. “God I don't know what I'd do without you and Ron.”

She traced circles on his back and gave him one final squeeze before pulling back and holding his hands in her own. “Speaking of which, we should go visit the dolt.”

Harry snorted. “I can't believe you just referred to him as a dolt, Hermione.”

She grinned. “What else would I call him?”

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

“Bloody hell! Can you believe it?” Ron chuckled along with his friends. “I mean, they couldn't even keep the fucking bastard in his own room!”

“And was he pushing autographs in your face, Ronald?”

“What are you saying, Hermione! You and every other bloody girl in Hogwarts were completely infatuated with fucking Gilderoy Lockhart!” Hermione blushed and Harry and Ron laughed.

Ron was looking better; the only immediate evidence of what had happened to him was a long, ginger mane that the healers were still attempting to get rid of. “Still don't see why they can't just shave the bloody thing off,” Ron had grumbled. On the bright side, he no longer wanted to tear them to shreds, so that was something.

“So what are you two doing while I'm cooped up in here for the next few days?” Ron took a massive bite out of the bloody steak that sat in front of him on a floating tray.

Hermione winced at the Lion-like teeth that he still hadn't grown out of. “I see your appetite hasn't been affected at all.”

“Oh shut up, Hermione. Come on, what are you two going to do?” The two of them blushed, and Ron grinned broadly. “Oh don't tell me there's something going on. You bloody weasels!”

“NO!” Harry and Hermione shouted at the same time, only to turn redder.

“Oh wise up you two, I don't care…well I do, because that would be huge! But I'm not going to put on the waterworks or be all mopey about it.” Harry couldn't move. He hadn't even told Hermione himself that he had been feeling things towards her that a best friend shouldn't.

Ron smirked. “So, Hermione, is Harry as good a kisser as my sister went on about?”

“OH HONESTLY, RONALD!” Harry and Ron were both taken back by the volume of her voice, though she never swept the grin off Ron's face. “Do you really think Harry and I are together?” At this point, it felt to Harry as though his heart had dropped to the floor and broken into a million pieces, which Hermione then proceeded to stomp on with big, heavy boots. “I mean, even if we were, well, we're not that insensitive to go snogging behind your back when you're in the hospital for Merlin's sake!”

“Hermione,” Ron said reproachfully. “I was just teasing you. Let…it…go.”

Hermione slapped him on the shoulder and huffed. “Oh, you.”

“W-Well…” Harry hadn't fully recovered his voice yet, and his face was still drained of all its blood. “Visiting hours are almost over, so perhaps we should get going…”

“Right on.” Ron said enthusiastically, and then winked in Harry's direction. “Full report on Monday.”

Harry nodded hesitantly as he followed Hermione's disapparation, bringing them both into what was sure to be an excruciatingly uncomfortable night.

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

“Are you sure about this, Harry?” Hermione was clutching Harry's arm tightly, and she almost seemed more nervous than he was, which could hardly be possible. He had never been more nervy in his entire life. He managed to nod his head and swallow a lump that had been forming itself in his throat as he trudged on with Hermione with one destination in mind.

“Here it is,” Harry said softly. He and Hermione looked up at the sign that read “Blessings to all whom enter here” in fading silver letters. A black iron gate surrounded the graveyard and Harry got a sick feeling as he thought of the last time he had been in a graveyard: seeing Cedric's lifeless face, crying out as Wormtail sliced his arm open, and breathing fire as he duelled Voldemort.

“Harry, are you sure you're all right? Are you cold?” Harry hadn't even realized that he had been shaking. He reached to grab her hand and wove his fingers between hers, gripping them tightly as though he would lose her at any moment.

“I-I'll be fine.” They continued on, walking slowly and Harry was sure he was crushing the stems of the flowers he was holding. He couldn't tell; as a matter of fact, everything was blurry to him. Blinded by the terror that he would see his parents' graves for the first time, that he would be so close to them for the first time in his life scared the living shit out of him.

They stopped. “There they are, Harry.” Hermione's voice was soft, and carried gently to him by the wind. He only stood there, staring at their graves. They seemed so plain and unordinary; it seemed a cruel irony for what they had done for him. He was upset with himself for not visiting sooner, for not getting them better headstones.

“Harry,” Hermione choked out. He turned to face her, only to see her face wet with tears. Taking her head into his hand, he touched his forehead to hers and longed to kiss her; craved to devour her lips.

“Hermione,” he whispered huskily. He could feel her shiver at the depth of his voice, and she reached up to cup his cheek.

“Go to them, Harry,” she smiled weakly. “You deserve it.”

Harry closed his eyes, let out a deep breath and broke away from her gaze and turning to their graves. His parents' graves.

Slowly he walked toward them, feeling as though he were meeting them for the first time; and he was. Never had he felt closer to his dead parents in his life. He knelt down, first at his father's grave, tracing the letters of his father's name.

Hic Jacet

James Milton Potter

June 24, 1955-October 31, 1981

Loving husband and father, bravest man in the world.

Summum bonum, pax vobiscum

“Dad,” Harry breathed out. “You'd be so proud of me, Dad. I-I made the quidditch team without trying out.” Harry laughed sadly. “I've even held Voldemort off once…you'd be proud of me for it, I know you would.”

He turned to his mother's grave, not caring to hold his tears back any more.

Hic Jacet

Lily Evans Potter

February 1, 1955-October 31, 1981

Loving wife and mother, inconceivably loving woman.

Omnia vincit amor

“Oh Mum,” Harry choked out. “I don't even know where to start with you. God—you, you saved my life. Oh fuck,” Harry blushed. “I'm sorry, but I-I just—you loved me so much that it kept me safe, I—I wish you were both here to tell me what to do. I've never really known you, but I miss you so much that I physically hurt. I can never thank you, ever, for what you both have given me. You've given me a life, and I promise you,” he whispered, talking to both his parents now. “I am going to kill that bastard, and move on with my life. I'm going to marry that girl over there—that's Hermione, and I'm almost positive that I love her—we're going to have kids, and I'm going to raise them as if they knew their grandparents. I'm scared, God I'm so scared.”

He lay between his parents' graves, clawing at the ground and feeling frightened with what his future held for him. Rather, he felt like a small child sleeping in between his parents during a thunder storm, but he needed some sort of tangible attachment to them for what he would be up against in the next few months.

“I'm going to do this for you,” Harry mumbled into the grass. “I promise, I'll kill that bastard for you.”

Harry stood up with renewed confidence, strode over to Hermione who had been patiently waiting on a bench nearby. She looked surprised when he yanked her to a standing position, and let out a yelp when he pulled her flush against his body and crushed his lips to hers.

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Sorry! I know this one's not nearly as long as the last, but I had to put it out there!

Review and I will update. :D

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

Thank you to my AMAZING beta Rylee!

Latin Translations:

Hic Jacet=Here lies

Summum bonum, pax vobiscum=The supreme good, peace be with you

Omnia vincit amor=Love conquers all

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7. Only Hope

Thank you SO much for all your patience everyone! This week has been super hectic for both me and my beta, and I appreciate your wonderful patience! Read on I say!

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

Without You

Chapter 6: Only Hope

There's a song that's inside of my soul.
It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again
I'm awake in the infinite cold.
But you sing to me over and over and over again.

So, I lay my head back down.
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours, I pray, to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope.

Sing to me the song of the stars.
Of your galaxy dancing and laughing and laughing again.
When it feels like my dreams are so far
Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again.

So I lay my head back down.
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours, I pray, to be only yours
I know now, you're my only hope.

I give you my destiny.
I'm giving you all of me.
I want your symphony, singing in all that I am
At the top of my lungs, I'm giving it back.

So I lay my head back down.
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours, I pray, to be only yours
I pray, to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope.

_____________________________

“Harry,” Hermione breathed out as she broke away from Harry's kiss. He was panting and his face was red. Her eyes held a depth that almost scared him, telling him how she felt without communicating it. Her eyes told him that he could never lose her; he would literally die.

“God, Hermione, I need you.” Her eyes widened in shock. “No, I need you to stay with me forever. Can you promise me you'll always be there?”

“Oh, Harry!” She sobbed before pressing her lips to his again. “I'll always be with you,” she whispered in between kisses, pressing her body closer to his.

Harry couldn't get enough of her, and he already felt like he was drowning. A nonexistent rope was tying itself around his heart and squeezing out every emotion, every desire he felt for her. If it wasn't enough that he was aching for her, he hurt physically with the love he carried. It was hard to believe he could finally admit this to himself: Harry Potter loves Hermione Granger.

His tongue slipped between her parted lips and he tasted her for the first time. God, it was amazing: the way he felt as though he had to touch every part of her, and get into every inch of her skin, melt into her so they would be one.

Harry pulled back and Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. She still held onto the back of his head and was panting heavily. Harry had to smile at how dishevelled her hair was, and how flushed she looked. He never wanted to see her any other way for the rest of his life.

Scratch that, he wanted to see her wonderful naked body under his.

Not now Harry continued to tell himself. It was too soon, even though he was starting to react to her a bit south of where their mouths were attached.

“Hermione,” Harry breathed as he broke away from her. He didn't say anything else, only stared at her, but she nodded in understanding as he grew hard against her thigh. Harry winced, and Hermione wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him closely and apparated them both back to Grimmauld Place. “You didn't have to do that, I can apparate myself you know.”

Hermione giggled. “I know I was just showing off.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. “You? Hermione Granger? Show off?”

Hermione hit him playfully and they both laughed moving only slightly further away from one another. Their eyes met again and he kissed her chastely. “So, what do we do, Harry?” Hermione asked, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

He kissed the top of her head. “I don't know,” he tilted her chin up and kissed her lips again. “I don't want to stop kissing you though.”

She gripped his arms tightly, her eyes boring into his. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yes.”

“Then this doesn't end, right? We're—boyfriend and girlfriend then?”

Harry grinned, never having felt happier in his life than to hear Hermione call him her boyfriend. “Absobloodylutely.”

Hermione reached up to trace his scar with her index finger and push his bangs aside. Never had this acknowledgement felt so good, so—erotic. He had to pull her hand away from his forehead as he choked on a breath.

“Harry,” Hermione breathed as she moved impossibly closer to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he cursed as his erection grew painfully hard. “Do you see what you do to me?”

Hermione was breathing hard now, fast and hard. “Y-yes.” She reached down tentatively and cupped the bulge in his pants. He gave a strangled moan as she stroked him with enough pressure to make him feel like coming.

He pushed her hand away. “Oh God, Hermione. If you don't stop I'm going to come in my pants like a little kid.”

Hermione smirked. “What if that was my plan?”

“I've never seen this side of you before.”

“Is that bad?”

“No,” Harry rested his head on her shoulder as he calmed down a bit. “It's brilliant.”

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

“Oh thank Merlin! Finally out of this fucking bed.”

“And cage,” Harry muttered under his breath to Hermione.

Hermione giggled as Ron turned to look at them. “What did you say, mate?”

“Oh, it's nothing. Hey! Can I help you with anything?”

“Um, no,” Ron said quirking an eyebrow. “I should be able to carry everything in my sack, unless you want to act like my boyfriend and carry it for me.”

Harry blushed as Hermione and Ron let out a roar of laughter. “I'm going to the loo,” Hermione sniggered, still red in the face.

When she was gone, Ron slapped Harry on the back. “So, anything you want to tell me?”

The grin on Ron's face told Harry that there was no use in covering it up. “Yeah,” Harry looked at the ground and kicked at one of the legs on the bed. “Hermione's my girlfriend now—I hope that's okay with you.”

Ron let out a whoop that made Harry jump. “It's about bloody time, mate! I honestly think she was secretly lusting after you when she and I were together! Fuck, I wouldn't be surprised if the first time we kissed she was picturing your face!”

Harry had to laugh nervously. “Well, thanks I guess. I mean, she's great—brilliant, actually. And she means so much to me…” Harry looked at the floor with a shy grin on his face.

“You love her, don't you?” Ron beamed. “You do! I knew it.”

Harry looked up; a tear was falling down his cheek. “God, I love her so much it hurts, Ron.” His friend put a hand on his shoulder. “I mean, she and I visited my parents' graves the other day, and I got this overwhelming feeling, this…oh God. I-I don't know what I'd do if I lost her…hell, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you...”

“Well you can start by not looking like you're going to kiss me.” Harry turned red and dropped his eyes to the floor. “I'm just joking, mate. But really, that's life. We lose people, and we gain them.” Ron looked at Harry pointedly. “This is our life, and it bloody sucks, but there's nothing we can do about it…”

“You guys could do something about it…”

“No, Harry,” Ron said forcefully. “We can't, because we are your friends and we're not backing down, especially on this. We're not going to let some prick jinx you into the ground while we sit by with tea and watch.”

“Ron, you don't know how much that means to me.” Ron smiled and gave him a big manly hug. Harry had never held Ron this tightly, but he felt he had to…he wouldn't be anywhere without his best mate.

“So I guess this means we're breaking up, then?” Hermione's voice came from the doorway as the two boys pulled apart quickly, blushing and laughing.

“No, but it wasn't easy letting him down, Hermione. I know how in love with me he is,” Ron joked. Hermione laughed heartily, and Harry didn't think he'd seen her laugh so hard in his life. It was wonderful to see her in such a healthy state.

She crossed the room and put her hands around his neck as his moved automatically to her waist. “I guess I've got some competition then,” she said before tugging his face down to hers and slipping her tongue forcefully between his lips. Harry was thrown off guard, but he didn't falter as their kisses grew more intense.

Ron cleared his throat and they stepped away from each other, flushed and positively glowing. Ron cocked his head and had a funny grin on his face. “You two are a funny couple of pink-faced kids, though I'd appreciate keeping the PDA low when I'm around.”

“Noted,” Hermione smirked. “Now let's get you discharged before they charge you for another night.”

“I don't know if I'd mind that. I mean, they've been giving me feasts for the last few days so I could stay here a few more days.”

“Ronald, look at this bill,” Hermione said, handing over a piece of parchment.

Ron's eyes grew. “Bloody hell! I'm never eating out again!”

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

“Have you come in possession with the cup?”

“N-No, my Lord,” Wormtail cowered, trembling.

“WELL WHY NOT?” Voldemort screamed at his crony. Wormtail covered his head with his arms and curled into a ball on the ground, whimpering like a whipped dog.

“I don't know how to get into Hogwarts, my Lord, AND—” Wormtail added quickly when Voldemort looked like he would be spouting again. “And, my Lord, I don't think the headmistress would find it suspicious that someone would want to go to the—”

“You're perfectly right, Wormtail,” Voldemort said, waving him off. “I never thought such a worthless imbecile could give me an answer like you just have.”

Wormtail grinned brightly, straightening his shoulders for the first time in years. “Shall I—”

“Yes, Wormtail, go get Dolohov.” Wormtail looked crestfallen. “He shall wait until Harry gets the cup for me, and then attack.” Voldemort smiled in sick pleasure. “It's our only hope to get to that cup before Potter does.”

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

“So, what do you mean it's at Hogwarts?” Ron asked with a mouth full of kidney pie.

Hermione winced as she saw a few parcels of food fly out of his mouth. “Well, Harry used Legilimancy on the shopkeeper and—”

“Wait,” Ron snapped his head towards Harry. “You can do Legilimancy? Bloody hell, why didn't you tell me?”

“I hadn't told anyone until I told Hermione, and now you. But I don't want to go out shouting it from mountains, Ron.”

“This could be put to some good use. Hey, what am I thinking right now?”

“That you're still hungry.”

“Bloody brilliant.”

“I didn't read your mind, Ron, I just know you too well.”

“Well, come on then, tell me how you learned it.”

“I-I just remember Snape teaching me a bit of it—I really don't want to go into this right now,” Harry answered quickly. “I think we should devise a plan on how to get the cup while still under McGonagall's watchful eye.”

“You're right,” Ron said taking another bite of his pie. “That woman can be quite the—”

“Ronald Weasley,” Hermione shouted, shooting out of her seat and slamming her hands down on the table. “If I've told you once, I've told you a million times! Don't—talk—with—your—mouth—full!” Ron stared at her and then visibly swallowed what was in his mouth. Hermione sat down quietly, and went back to picking at her own kidney pie.

Harry glanced over at her. “Is something wrong, love?”

Hermione sighed as her fork clanked on the plate. “I just don't know how we're going to figure out where it is! Hogwarts is an incredibly large school!”

Harry smirked. “When in doubt, consult your bible, Hermione.”

“Harry, I hardly think reading about Jesus is going to help us here.”

“No…” Harry sniggered. “Your other bible.”

“Hogwarts, A History,” Hermione breathed in realization. “Oh, you're a genius, Harry!” Hermione jumped up and kissed Harry quickly on the head before darting out of the kitchen and up to her room to fetch her book.

“Good going, mate,” Ron said, sticking some food in his mouth. “Got rid of her. Now we can eat in peace.”

“You know, I wouldn't mind if you swallowed before you talk.”

Ron looked at him with wide eyes. “Hermione's rubbing off on you, mate. I'd be careful.”

Harry chuckled. “Oh you have no idea, Ron.”

Ron made a gagging sound. “I'd rather not throw up while I'm eating, thank you very much!”

Grinning, Harry took his empty plate and brought it over to the sink. Time for him to join Hermione for his first ever reading of Hogwarts, A History.

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8. My Beautiful Life

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! You guys are amazing! I owe you a long one for having waited so long to post…I hope it's worth the wait! :)

Enjoy!

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Without You

Chapter 8: My Beautiful Life

Lindsay Lohan

God wont talk to me
I guess she's pretty busy lately
I'd like to believe
She's listening

I'm starting to feel
All of my bruises imagined or real
And I'll get through each day
I dig through the bad ones
To get to the good ones
Who's keeping score anyway

And this is my beautiful life
The only thing certain is everything changes
Lows and the highs
And all those goodbyes
As hard as it gets I know it's still amazing
To be alive
It's a beautiful life

I talk in my sleep
That's the one place I know no one can hear me
I tell my self things
Don't walk in the shadows, there's always tomorrow
And I'm right where I want to be

And this is my beautiful life
The only thing certain is everything changes
Lows and the highs
And all those goodbyes
As hard as it gets I know it's still amazing
To be alive
It's a beautiful life

Oh it hurts while it's happening I wanna feel everything
How will you know 'til you try?
And this is my beautiful life

My beautiful life
The only thing certain is everything changes
Lows and the highs
And all those goodbyes
As hard as it gets I know it's still is amazing
To be alive
It's a beautiful life [4x]

“Did you find anything?” Harry asked as he curled in against her on the couch, placing a kiss in her hair.

“No, absolutely nothing,” Hermione said shaking her head. “I think the only thing we can do at this point is to go to Hogwarts and ask…well, you know.”

“You mean, go to see Dumbledore's portrait.”

“Yes…”

Harry smiled poignantly. “Hermione, you can just say it, I'm not going to jump you up for talking about him.”

“Oh, I know, Harry. It's just, well, I don't know.”

“You think it might bring back bad memories?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Hermione,” Harry looked at her pointedly. “I do have some pretty fucked-up memories from that night having been strapped to the wall as I watched Snape kill Dumbledore.” He could feel Hermione shudder against him. “But I have other memories of him you know. Memories from better times.”

“Oh, Harry, I know. It's just that you were so depressed the summer after he was murdered, that I—well, I guess I don't know when it's right to bring him up anymore.”

Harry chuckled. “That surprises me. Someone as brilliant as you doesn't know when to bring certain things up?”

“Well you can't deny I've had a problem with it, Harry.” He knew she was right. While she could spew facts at any given moment, but when it came to dealing with the emotions of the opposite sex, she had trouble. She wasn't clueless by any means, but he didn't blame her for having a hard time reading his mind. It was hard enough to read her mind, not to mention all the other women he had ever fancied…all two of them.

“It's all right, Hermione.” He hugged her to him and she shut the book and kissed him briefly. She had a blush on her face. “Are you all right?”

Her blush deepened. “I'm fine, it's just, well—I hope you're not disappointed that we haven't done much.”

“Done much?”

“Well you know, fooled around, had sex…”

“Hermione, I'm not expecting you to jump my bones right away. We've only been going out for two weeks…”

“I know, I just—with how we talked to each other at your parents' grave, I just don't want you getting the wrong impression.”

“I'm not.”

“I was just caught up in the heat of the moment.”

“So was I.”

“I just don't want you to think this isn't going anywhere, because it is.”

“I know.”

“Oh good,” she exhaled loudly and laughed quietly as she looked at her hands. “I've been worrying about it. I didn't know how to tell you.”

“You can tell me anything, Hermione.”

She grinned. “I know.”

He leaned into her again and kissed her chastely before standing up and helping her to her feet.

“I think it's time we go get things sorted out with Dumbledore.”

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

“Blimey! I haven't seen yeh three in years!” Hagrid greeted the trio at the gate, picking all three of them up in a hug as they struggled for air. “I though' yeh might be hidin' with everything that's goin' on.”

“Actually,” Hermione started. “We're here to ask you some questions, Hagrid.”

“Me?” Hagrid looked as though he didn't believe them.

“Yeah, but only if you're okay with them…they might be a bit tough to get through.,” Harry added.

Hagrid grinned widely. “As long as they're goin' help you, `arry, I'd be more'n happy ter help.”

“Wonderful!” Hermione smiled. “You know, I would love a cup of tea, Hagrid.”

The half-giant looked as though he would cry at any moment. “I'd love ter make yeh one, Hermione.” Hermione grinned at the two boys as they followed Hagrid to his hut, listening to him sniffing and muttering, “It's a miracle the lot of `em are alive” and “Wanted ter talk to me firs', bless `em.”

When they got to the little cottage, Hagrid put on a pot of water as the trio sat down at the table, Hermione on Harry's knee because there weren't enough seats. Hagrid turned around and almost dropped the chipped cup that was in his hand when he saw Harry and Hermione like this.

“So, yeh two are—”

Harry grinned. “Yeah.”

“And Ron, are yeh—”

“Oh yeah, I'm fine with it,” Ron grinned. “As long as they're not getting off* in front of me,” Harry and Hermione turned bright red. “I'm happy for them.”

“Well I can't say I didn't think the two of yeh would end up together,” Hagrid was smiling widely again. “Professor Sprout owes me a few sickles.”

“You'd have to give it back, Hagrid, because Ron and I went out for two weeks a couple of years ago,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, she decided she's going around making her mark.”

“Ronald!”

“I was just kidding, Hermione.”

“I am not making my mark!”

“We wanted to ask you about your early days here, Hagrid,” Harry changed the subject as he tightened his arms around Hermione's waist, silently telling her to let alone the little argument with Ron.

“Oh,” Hagrid's face fell suddenly. He was clearly trying to distract himself with the hot water, pouring four cups full. “Wha' do yeh want ter know?”

“Well—basically, we want to know—well…” Ron grimaced a little when he saw the muddy-looking tea Hagrid was putting in the “tea” cups. “Well—I guess you could say we were wondering…”

“Do you know if Tom Riddle had any special hiding places when you were at school?”

CRASH

The tray Hagrid had been carrying slipped from his hands, the cups shattering on the floor. He looked to the ground as a tear formed in his eye and bent down to pick up the shards of ceramic that had broken into very small pieces.

“Oh, Hagrid, let me. Reparo.” Hagrid did not move from his knees, just continued to stare at the newly-repaired mugs. “Oh, Hagrid, we didn't mean to—”

“No, it's—uh—it's okay. I'm jus' a bit jumpy when it comes to tha' bloke I guess yeh could say.”

“Here, let me fix some tea, Hagrid,” Hermione said standing up from Harry's knee. “You come sit down.”

Hagrid nodded idly and sat down across from Harry and next to Ron. “So, wha' do yeh want ter know about T-Tom Riddle?”

“We…well we,” Harry started. Hermione was heating up the water with her wand and he could see it was already steaming. “We just wanted to know if you knew of any secret places Voldemort used to hide out in.”

“Why would yeh wan' ter know tha'?” Harry caught Hermione pouring a little brandy into one of the cups, and grinned internally.

“We're looking for clues,” Ron jumped in. “You know, about Voldemort.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, I don' know if I can be a lot of help to yeh cause after he got me kicked out a Hogwarts, I didn' spend a lo' a time in Hogwarts. And before then, I didn' pay much attention to the bastard enough ter know if he—thank yeh Hermione—if he would have a hidin' spot like tha'. I'm sorry.”

“No, its fine, Hagrid,” Harry said, sipping his tea carefully. To his surprise it tasted like normal tea and he and Ron looked at Hermione who made a gesture to stay quiet.

Hagrid didn't seem to notice her gesture, or the fact that she had slipped some brandy into his tea. Harry figured he must be used to the taste by now. “Yeh lot should go talk to Dumbledore. He might know wha' yer lookin for.”

“We were going to go talk to his portrait, but later on,” Hermione commented. Harry suddenly froze. He hadn't realized that the last time he had seen Dumbledore was in a portrait, but the portrait had been sleeping then. Harry felt an unexpected wave of panic wash over him at the thought that he would talk to Dumbledore again. It had never occurred to him before how strange this would be…

“Harry, mate, are you all right?” Ron was leaning over the table and waving his hand in front of Harry's face.

“Oh, yeah, I'm fine,” Harry lied, taking a sip of his tea.

“So are yeh three close?” Hagrid gave a pointed look, and Harry realized that he had never seen Hagrid with a more pointed look in his life. He knew the three of them were up to something.

Harry only smiled. “Yes, we are.”

“We're getting there,” Ron added as Hagrid nodded.

“Yeh three bes' be getting' up to the castle. McGonagall is expectin' the three of yeh.”

“Thank you, Hagrid,” Hermione jumped off of Harry's lap and gave Hagrid a warm embrace.

The half-giant wrapped his arms around her back before letting go. “God bless yeh three.”

And then they left.

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“I'll allow you in this section only if you put everything back, BUT—” Madam Pince went on and on about rules of the restricted section. Hermione listened quite intently, but the two boys were sitting down and fighting hard to stay awake. Finally Madam Pince left, and they could hear Hermione sifting through books on shelves which took their numb minds back to the task at hand.

“I knew I'd find it here,” Hermione mumbled as she pulled a dusty book off the shelf. It was quite a large book and took some effort to manoeuvre it to the table.

Ron moved to read the cover. “Principles of Numbers? Hermione, what do we need this for?”

“I had an epiphany when Madame Pince was talking about the rows of numbers and their corresponding books and…”

“Hermione, get to the point please! What's this all about?”

“Right,” she scanned the table of contents and flipped to a page about half-way in. “I'm looking for number significances and patterns in these horcruxes and trying to find out what order Voldemort may have created them in.”

Both boys stared at her blankly. Ron spoke: “Come again?”

“What I mean, Ronald,” Hermione said with a huff. “Is that there seems to be a number pattern here. Dumbledore was the first person to touch the Gaunt ring, and it scarred him. Harry was the third person to have touched Tom Riddle's diary. Malfoy, Ginny, and then you, Harry. Ron was most likely the fourth person after Voldemort to have touched the Gryffindor ruby. James or Lily first held it—and I'm sure they knew its significance—then Harry, me and then Ron, and it didn't trigger a curse until the fourth person. Do you see my pattern here?”

“Hermione, that's brilliant!”

“Right, but…” Ron didn't seem as convinced as Harry. “The problem is, Hermione. Hasn't Voldemort killed more people than just the seven for the seven horcruxes? How do we know that he hasn't created more of them?”

“Because, seven is the cardinal number.”

“But…”

“Seven days of the week, seven planets visible from earth by the naked eye, it took God seven days to build earth, Voldemort chose this number for a reason. It has a lot of significance to it.”

“Hermione, I still don't see…”

“God created the earth in seven days. That symbolizes birth.”

“Okay…”

“Seven planets visible from earth…seven people sacrificed to keep him alive.”

“Well…”

“Seven deadly sins…the sin of greed, or murder for killing those people.”

“Right, but…”

“And, Harry was born as the seventh month died…and that represents death.”

“So you're saying…”

“Whether I believe in superstition or not, Voldemort is very superstitious, and we have to pay attention to these patterns.”

“Oh,” Ron whispered flabbergasted.

“Not only does Voldemort do things in sevens, but he also assigned curses to each of the horcruxes in orders. We need to figure out these orders so when we find them, we can dispose of them properly.”

“So what does our order seem to be so far?” Harry asked leaning over her shoulder. He was distracted momentarily by the flowery smell in her hair, but shook his head and focused on the page laid before him.

“Well, if we go in order, the ring was first, number two is still up in the air, three was the journal, four was the ruby, five is still out there, and six was the locket.”

“Regulus, Sirius, Kreacher, Mundungs, that man we bought it off of, and then…me,” Harry counted off, subconsciously rubbing at the other scar on his neck that still felt fresh.

“Brilliant,” Ron awed.

“Exactly.” Hermione thumbed through the book. “We just have to figure out who has touched that cup, Rowena's pendant and Nagini to figure out what order we need to deal with these in.”

“Well, what are you…”

“Shhh,” Hermione held out her hand at Harry's question. “I'm trying to figure out if there's a correlation between the curses and their numbers.”

“Well, what do you expect the two of us to do, then?” Ron shouted.

“Why don't you two go figure out where we're going to sleep tonight, and one of you can come back and tell me.” Harry felt his heart drop a little. He knew how important this research was for his own well-being, but it still pained him to think that Hermione might stay in here all night with her books and he'd be stuck without a warm body for the night.

They had been sleeping in the same bed for the last two weeks, but hadn't “slept together” yet. It wasn't that Harry was disappointed, but he was having to “take care of himself” so often that he was starting to feel like a dirty old man.

He loved Hermione; he loved her with every morsel of his heart, and he wasn't about to throw that away by pouncing on her which could only devastate their friendship. Harry had to accept that the only action he was going to see for a while would be with his hand.

“Where do you think McGonagall will keep us?” Ron's statement snapped Harry out of his train of thought.

“I dunno.”

“What if she puts us in the dungeon?”

“Ron, you're making it sound like she's going to tie us up and have her way.”

Ron shuddered. “I can't believe you just put that image in my head you wanker.” Harry laughed. “Speaking of wanker, I'm hoping Hermione's not as much of a prude as I'm expecting she is.”

“Ron…”

“I don't want to know details, I'm just curious how far the prim Hermione Granger has gone.” Harry cocked an eyebrow. “Well, I mean, that last nobbheaded boyfriend that she had, from what I heard, only gone so far as to neck with her. No wonder that oaf was sleeping with other women.”

“Ron, you're as bad as a girl with the way you gossip.”

The red-head grinned. “I did date Lavender Brown for a significant amount of time.”

“Yes you did, Won-Won.”

“Hey!” Harry had to hold himself up along the wall as he laughed and walked to McGonagall's office simultaneously. “I'll have you know that I learned a thing or two from her.”

“Oh yeah? Well I learned a thing or two from…”

“Don't say it.” Ron's face paled and Harry was turning blue from how hard he was laughing. “I don't even want to know what you did with my sister.”

Harry wiped a tear that had formed from laughing so hard. “Don't worry, Ron. Ginny and I did about as much as Hermione and I have.”

“Which I'm hoping isn't much.”

Harry looked to the ground as they continued on to McGonagall's office. “Nope.”

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

“This is our most prized bargain and I am selling it for about £100 000, and no less. I had a couple yesterday try to talk me down on the price. I've had it for so long that I almost gave into them.”

“Why is it so expensive?” Harry asked, reaching for it. The man retracted the gold necklace before Harry could touch it.

“If you look carefully at the carvings, they date back at least a thousand years.” Hermione bent forward to look closer at it. “My best conjecture is that it was worn by someone higher up in class, and then passed down through generations. We had a grungy man sell it to us a few years back and I suspected he was the rejected ancestor of a noble Lord who would do anything for some money. I'm sure it will please you to hear that I think such a valuable artefact would be in better hands with someone like you, sir.”

“I'll take it,” Harry said, pulling the muggle credit card out of his wallet. Mundungs had told them that he had sold it to a muggle pawn shop after their fifth year when they were all cleaning out Grimmauld Place. Of course, Kreacher had nipped it from their pile of rubbish, and Mundungs had stolen it from him, and here it was, right in front of them.

“Wonderful choice, sir. Let me put it around your neck; see how it looks on you.” Before Harry could stop the man, he had placed the metal chains around Harry's head and rested the locket on his chest. Harry felt a terrible clenching in his chest, and the metal of the necklace close around his throat like a noose. He couldn't breath, and the pain in his chest was hindering him from pulling at the chain. He could hear Hermione screaming, and could faintly hear Ron petrify the sales man before they both ran over to pull at the metal.

Time was running out. Harry could feel his face swell up from the lack of oxygen, and among the roar, one sound became prevalent: Hermione's cries of despair. Something hit his neck as the metal released from its grip, the pain in his chest subsided, and everything around him went dark…

Harry woke up gasping for air. The memory, the dream had seemed so real that he was clutching at his neck as he awoke, still feeling like the metal were constricted around his throat as tears coursed down his face.

Looking around, Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Ron had gone to tell her that they would all be sleeping in the Room of Requirements (in separate “rooms” by order of McGonagall) and she had promised to sneak into Harry's room when she was done researching for the night. One look at the clock that appeared at Harry's side told him that she would be up all night if he didn't go get her right now.

Harry didn't have to worry about waking Ron, for his friend was snoring loudly through the makeshift wall that separated their rooms from a central common room. Running down the stairs (and trying to remember which ones switched at what times while evading the invisible step), Harry made his way to the Library and back to the restricted section. He pushed through the doors and saw Hermione hunched over a book.

She looked up, tired, but nonetheless inquisitive. “Harry, what are you doin—” He cut off her last words and kissed her hard; very hard. Hermione seemed frozen in place, and the fact that she wasn't moving made Harry pry himself away from her. “I—Harry, I…”

“I'm sorry, Hermione.”

“N-no, it's fine.” She still looked shocked, and turned red when he cupped her cheek lightly. She looked at him for a moment, seemingly studying him, and then pressing her lips back to his, rekindling the same frenzied manner he had been in only seconds ago.

He pushed his tongue against her lips, and she sucked it into her mouth. He was a bit shocked at first, but soon got lost in the fabulous way she was kissing him.

Her hands were everywhere, and in the last two weeks that they had been together, she had never been so frantic. She clutched at his shirt and he helped her in pulling it over his head. He could feel himself growing hard in his pants and the memory of their first kiss grazed through his mind, followed by their conversation the other night…

“Hermione, we have to slow down.” She was sucking on his neck but paused to shake her head. “Yes, we do.”

She pulled back and looked up at him. They were so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. “I heard Ron calling me a prude.”

Harry furrowed his brow in recollection as his earlier conversation with Ron came into mind. “Oh, Hermione.”

“You defended me,” she said, kissing his jaw.

“W-well, not really…”

“You didn't agree with him, though.”

A horrible thought shot through Harry's brain. “You didn't sleep with your last boyfriend, did you?”

Hermione smirked. “No, but that doesn't mean he and I didn't do other stuff.” A growl made its way from the back of Harry's throat as he attacked her lips again.

“Hermione, if we,” he kissed her “—if we,” and again. “—I can't stop.”

“I know, Harry.” A glaze came over her eyes as his pants made a violent twitch.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry groaned and she giggled against his neck. He spun her around and pushed her against the table, hiking her up onto a spot that wasn't covered in books.

“Harry,” Hermione breathed heavily as he opened the buttons of her blouse. His breath hitched when he felt her creamy skin beneath his fingers, and deftly pushed the fabric off her shoulders. She discarded her bra before he pulled her flush against him and took her mouth again.

Moaning and grappling at one another they kissed for a bit, and Hermione would groan every once in a while as Harry brushed his hands against her breast. She reached for the buckle of his pants and he surprised the both of them by pushing her hand away. They stopped kissing, and he gave her a very pointed look before kissing down her body, taking his time in torturing her breasts. He didn't care that it felt like she was pulling chunks of his hair out, it only encouraged him to move lower until he had the access to push her skirt aside and see for the first time what Hermione Granger's knickers looked like.

They were wet.

“Bloody hell,” he moaned before biting at her netherlips that were still covered by the flimsy white fabric. She tried to conceal a scream, but wasn't quite successful. He took his head from between her legs for a moment to place a silencing spell around the room.

“Just in case you're a little loud,” he smirked at her and could swear she moaned at his words. Her cheeks were dark red, and her hair was all tousled, and it took all of Harry's self-control not to make a mess of his own pants. He distracted himself again with her crotch as he motioned for her to sit up a bit as he slid her knickers down.

He almost died.

Never in his life had he imagined what this would look like. He and Ron had some fun one summer looking through Fred and George's stash, but none of the women in those magazines could even compare to Hermione.

And she was all his.

Harry lunged forward, tracing his tongue teasingly at the top and slowly slid down. He could hear a hiss emancipate itself from above and assumed he was doing it right. Pushing her legs further apart, he pulled her bum to the front of the table so he would have access to more of her. Experimentally he slid his tongue inside of her and she grappled at his head, throwing her own head back. He was enjoying the responses she was giving him and so he did it harder, and a little bit faster. She was panting now, and he took pride in the fact that he had broken the reserve of Hermione Granger, one of the most stubborn people he knew. He could see the headlines now: Best Student to Ever Go to Hogwarts is Also the First Girl to Orgasm in the Restricted Section.

He reached up to touch her and she not only gasped for air, but moaned uncontrollably. Finding that magical nub he heard about, she bucked up against his face and cried out.

“Harry!” With a new confidence he'd never felt before, he repeated everything, each time going a little harder, and then a little faster. Swirling his tongue around, rubbing her nub, he moved his thumb to bite her softly and before he knew it, she grabbed his free hand that had been holding her thigh open and laced her fingers with his, squeezing painfully tight as she let out a loud scream. Wave after wave after wave rolled over her body, seeming to go on forever until suddenly he felt her grip loosen and had the pleasure to see her breasts bouncing lazily in time with her still quickened breath. Harry stood up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him.

She kissed his throat, his jaw, and then lazily stuck her tongue through his lips. She moaned at the taste of herself on his tongue. He was still hard against his pants, and had to break away from the kiss before it all went to hell.

“Harry, you're still…”

“It's fine.”

“No, I—”

“If you come to bed with me, I'll let you fix the problem,” he said with a grin. She nodded, still looking entirely inebriated as he helped her hop down from the table and gather all of their clothing. She dressed herself as he put her notes in her pack and piled the books neatly on the table.

When he turned around, he saw a tear in her eye. He walked quickly to her and enveloped her in a hug. “What's the matter, love?”

“Oh, Harry. That was so wonderful. I-I…”

“Shhh, you don't have to say anything else.”

Hermione sighed. “It was nothing like that with…”

“We don't need to talk about him.” She nodded and pulled back, lingering a kiss on his forehead. “I knew you'd be loud.”

She gasped and slapped his arm gently. “Harry Potter! I can't believe you would say something like that to ruin such a wonderful moment.”

Harry chuckled. “Come on, love. Let's go to bed.” Hermione nodded and walked at his side out of the library.

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*Getting off in Britain means the same thing as snogging…get your American minds out of the gutter. :P

Thanks Rylee for that one! :)

Hope it was worth the wait! :)

Oh, and before I forget, I got all those statistics about the number seven from Wikipedia. What a handy site. :)

And if you're bored, go read my other story Missing Harry or Rylee's story The Good, The Bad and the Drunk.

Cheers!

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9. Blowin' In The Wind

Thank you reviewers! I love you all! *author sends out love*

And Rylee! I love you too! *author sends love to her wonderful beta*

Enjoy this chapter! I'm sorry it took so long, but I wanted to get it just right for your reading pleasure. :)

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Without You

Chapter 9: Blowin' In The Wind

Bob Dylan

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, 'n' how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, 'n' how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they're forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea?
Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

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“Unghhhhhhhh,” Ron moaned as he slumped out of his room that morning, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands. “How long have you two been up?”

Hermione swallowed the bit of apple she had been chewing on. “Since ten. You overslept by three hours.”

Ron moaned again and plopped himself down in one of the chairs that surrounded the magnificent feast the house elves had brought up to them. Grabbing for a bagel, he watched as Harry fed Hermione pieces of apple, and rolled his eyes at Hermione's giggling when Harry would purposely miss her mouth and run the food into her nose, her cheek, her chin…

“You two are disgustingly happy,” Ron grumbled as he shoved a piece of a bagel into his mouth. “Too happy this time of morning. I'm going back to my room.” Harry chuckled as Ron loaded his arms up with food and drug himself back to his own room.

“I'll see you two in a bit when its time to go back to that smelly old library,” Ron shouted through the door. This made Harry and Hermione blush deeply.

Hermione looked over to Harry and brushed her hand atop his. “About last night…”

“You're not regretting it, are you?” Harry asked with a bit of disappointment in his voice.

“Oh, no! Not at all.” Harry grinned smugly. “I just…well I wanted to thank—you.”

Harry's eyebrows rose. “Me? You want to thank me?” He shook his head with a hearty chuckle. “Hermione, I should be thanking you, that was…incredible.”

She grinned. “Well, I have learned a few things over the years.”

Harry's forehead wrinkled as he pressed his eyes shut. “I really don't want to know the details.”

Hermione giggled and moulded her body into his. “I wasn't planning on it. I've entirely forgotten about him after last night.” That little comment lifted Harry's ego tremendously and he kissed the top of her head.

“Forgotten…everything?”

Hermione sat back a bit and looked up at him amusedly. “Absolutely.”

Harry beamed widely and leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “Good, because I plan to make you forget your own name tonight.” Hermione gasped as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, crashing with hers as he moved his hands up to knot themselves in her hair and pulled her head closer to his.

“Oy, get off him, Hermione.” Ron said from his doorway with a smirk that was quite amused with the situation in front of him. Harry and Hermione flew apart. “Harry's got to save his energy for this little scavenger hunt Voldemort's got us going on. I'll wait outside while you get yourselves under control.” Harry let out the breath he had been holding in and Hermione was still breathing hard when they heard Ron close the door.

Hermione was the first to speak. “I-I'm going to go brush my teeth. I'll meet you outside in a minute.” She flitted away and Harry ran his hand through his hair, trying to smooth it out. Reasoning it probably looked the same as always, Harry got up and walked out of the Room of Requirements, ready for a few minutes of awkwardness between him and Ron.

His best mate, however, was leaning against the railing nonchalantly with his hands crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face that made him look like Draco Malfoy. “So,” Ron started. “Things heating up I see?”

If it was possible for the blood to pump faster to Harry's face, he would have looked like a tomato. “Heh, yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Like I said before, Harry, I'm totally fine with you two.” A devilish grin came over Ron's face. “That doesn't mean I'm not going to give the two of you a hard time for it though, because that's just too much fun.”

“You're awful.”

“You're a wanker.”

“Bollocks.”

“Turkey”

“Pig,” Hermione said as she came out of the door, sealing a charm on the room so it wouldn't change and only the three of them would be able to enter.

“Oh, come to join the conversation, Hermione?” Ron said mischievously.

“Only if it includes the incident at the Boar's Head,” Hermione smirked as she passed Ron and grabbed Harry's hand, leaving Ron utterly shocked to contemplate the worst date of his life. A girl had shown up as Ron's blind date, and Ron hadn't realized until he'd gotten her to show her knickers that she was a little more than just a girl…

“Oh come off it, Hermione! Anyone could make that mistake! She was bloody gorgeous—I mean, oh sod it!” Ron yelled after his friends as they made their way up to the Headmistress office.

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

“Oh, hello Miss Granger…Potter, Weasley,” Professor McGonagall greeted Hermione with a warm embrace, and the two boys with a nod of the head. “Albus is anxious to see the three of you. He's missed you, Potter.”

If it was possible for Harry to be any more apprehensive than he already was, then McGonagall saying that Dumbledore was excited to see him almost made Harry want to cry. Why hadn't he visited Dumbledore before? Had Harry really been that self-involved that he had shunned his mentor, his saviour to ease his own conscience? Harry had only seen the sleeping form of Dumbledore's portrait; he was not ready to see the lively, talking version.

“I haven't been able to get any work done with him chattering away, asking me about you, Potter. He's worried about you, and won't accept that you're alive until he sees you himself.” Hermione, sensing Harry's unease, slipped her hand through his own and squeezed it in reassurance.

When the revolving stairs had brought them to the top, Harry, Ron and Hermione followed Professor McGonagall to a room that was painfully familiar to Harry. So much had gone on in this office from talks of Voldemort, to Umbridge's accusations, to temper tantrums on Harry's part, to private Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons on Voldemort. All the emotions Harry was feeling, both good and bad, gripped at his heart as a single tear poked at his eye. He stopped Hermione before they could get to the main office. “I can't do this.”

She looked empathetic. “Harry, I know it's hard…”

“No, you don't understand. I literally can't do this,” Harry choked.

Hermione moved to embrace him tightly, and Harry could feel Ron and Professor McGonagall watching them for a little while as he sobbed into her shoulder. They eventually retreated further into the office as Hermione traced circular patterns on his back and whispered to him over and over again: “It's hard, Harry, I know it is. You can do it.” After a bit of weeping and sniffling, Harry finally pulled back from Hermione with blood-shot eyes and gave her a chaste kiss. “I don't know what I'd do without you, Hermione.”

She grinned. “Likewise.” He gave her another tight squeeze before taking up her hand again and following Ron and McGonagall. What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks: Ron was standing, facing Dumbledore's portrait, and having a lively conversation with their previous Headmaster.

“I don't know what you told him about Voldemort, but I still think the guy's a big fluffy white bunny. Well, perhaps a big…fluffy black rabbit, but same thing.”

Dumbledore's portrait shook with the laughter Harry once remembered of their Headmaster. It was so real, and though Harry had known what to expect with a portrait, it was entirely new to him, seeing someone he had been so close to in this form.

“You're a good friend, Ron.” The redhead grinned as his chest puffed up subconsciously. “Harry's lucky to have you as a friend, aren't you, Harry?”

Harry gasped at the address and froze up. He couldn't move; felt as though his feet were made of lead, until he could feel Hermione trying to pry herself free from his grasp. He was crushing her fingers.

“Oh, um, sorry,” he said lamely to her. He then turned to the portrait of his mentor, and felt a tear fall down his cheek. Ironically, even though he didn't think it was possible, he saw a tear fall down Dumbledore's cheek too.

“Harry Potter,” Dumbledore repeated. Harry had an overwhelming urge to reach out and hug the portrait frustrated by the fact that he couldn't actually embrace the man. “I have waited—years to see you. To see you happy, to see you healthy, and more importantly, alive.”

“Oh, fuck,” Harry cursed, not caring about the sharp intake of breath behind him coming from Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore didn't flinch. “Merlin, I don't even know what to say. Er—thank you?”

Dumbledore chuckled sadly. “You have nothing to thank me for, Harry. I had put you in far more danger than a wise man should put a child through.” Dumbledore shook his head. “Harry, you have been through far too much to even considered having had a childhood.”

“Sir?” Harry enquired.

“Your childhood, Harry, was much more dangerous than any other child's in history that I can imagine. If I could go back, take back all those years, I would have looked over you better, taken better care of you, acted as a mentor should…”

“Sir, you did everything you could. I don't believe there was anything else you could have done better.”

Dumbledore smiled sadly. “I do believe we are on a first-name basis here, Harry.” Harry nodded and Dumbledore shifted in his portrait. “So, I understand you have a question for me regarding the horcruxes?”

“Then, Albus,” McGonagall sounded breathless behind him. “The rumours are true! Tom Riddle used horcruxes to preserve himself?”

The portrait of Dumbledore nodded. “I'm afraid it's true. How many have been destroyed now, Harry?”

“Four, but we have a good idea of what the other three are; we just need your help in finding them.”

“We think Hufflepuff's cup is hidden somewhere in Hogwarts, sir,” Hermione stepped in behind Harry. “We've figured out a sequence of numbers relating to the number of times a person has touched one of the horcruxes and when it is, well, detonated with a curse.” Hermione paused, clearly in thought. “I personally think it has to do with the order in which Voldemort killed people in. He likes things in sevens, and I've found several superstitious ways to explain why.”

A dull glint appeared behind the half-mooned spectacles. “I do remember hearing the mention that Hermione Granger was the brightest witch of her age.” Hermione blushed. “I never once doubted it, and this just proves it. I applaud you, Miss Granger.”

“The problem is,” Ron said, stepping in on Harry's other side, “we still don't know where in Hogwarts the cup is.”

Dumbledore nodded. “I know what you're saying, Mr. Weasley, but not even I know the bounds of Hogwarts.” The three held questioning glances on their faces. “When I first learned that Voldemort had made horcruxes to keep himself alive, I began searching the entire spance of the school looking for possible horcruxes. During the summer I would search the Slytherin common room, and during the school year I would even ask Severus to…”

“SNAPE?” Harry bellowed at the portrait. “HOW CAN YOU TALK LIGHTLY OF THE MAN WHO MURDERED YOU?”

Dumbledore shut his eyes and spoke slowly. “There are things I cannot tell you, Harry, but my death was not an accident. There are certain…premeditated activities going on in the hopes of swaying some fallen people to look to the light.”

“AND YOU HAD TO DIE FOR THESE PEOPLE? DEATH EATERS? WHO?” Harry demanded. “WHICH WORTHLESS PRICKS DID YOU DIE FOR?”

“Well, I remember one young man whom was very…contradictory to yourself.”

“Malfoy?” Harry couldn't believe his ears. Even Ron and Hermione jumped back. “YOU GAVE YOUR LIFE TO SAVE DRACO FUCKING MALFOY?”

“Harry, you are seeing the smaller picture, here, and Severus is a wonderful mentor to young Malfoy…”

“YEAH! SO HE CAN LEARN TO KILL PEOPLE LIKE SNAPE KILLED YOU?”

“Harry,” Dumbledore's voice never faltered. “I cannot tell you why I agreed to this, but it is a necessary point in eliminating Voldemort.”

Harry breathed a few times before letting it sink in. “S-so you came into last year knowing you were going to die? That's why you taught me all you did?”

Another tear slipped from the half-moon spectacle. “I'm afraid so.”

“B-but, why? I don't understand why Snape had to kill you for us to get to Voldemort.”

“It wasn't entirely planned out as to when Severus would have to do it, but like I told you before, Harry, I trust Severus with my life.”

Tears were coursing down Harry's cheeks. “B-but he killed you.”

“And he saved you, Harry. I trust him to keep you and Mr. Malfoy safe. Severus is in a tough position right now. He is under a Fidelius charm to keep Draco Malfoy safe, and is also working at the feet of Voldemort to keep you safe.”

“I-I don't…”

“Severus is working with the Death Eaters, yes. He is plotting evil, but also defending the good.”

“But, can't Voldemort read his mind?” Ron asked. “Can't he figure out that Snape isn't working for him?”

Dumbledore nodded. “It's possible, but Severus is a skilled Occlumens. He was worn out a lot last year when he was conversing with Voldemort. I have faith that he will help you, Harry, to overcome and defeat Voldemort in the end.”

Harry wasn't even listening anymore. He had retreated to sit in a chair nearby before his legs gave out beneath him. “I just don't know what to think,” Harry said dazed. “I can't—I can't imagine why he still killed you, even if it was part of a plan. He just looked so…happy.”

“Severus is very good at keeping a mask on his face. I don't believe you knew this, Harry, but Severus was very fond of your mother.”

Harry's eyes widened significantly. “What!”

Dumbledore nodded. “He was very jealous of your father for all of his talents, and for the fact that he had snatched the one woman Severus had ever loved.”

“W-wait a minute,” Harry shook his head to clear the image of his mum and Snape kissing. “That's not possible. That would be like Malfoy having feelings for Hermione!” Harry could feel Hermione shudder against him.

Dumbledore let out another of his hearty laughs. “I can assure you, Miss Granger, that Mr. Malfoy has no such intentions, but yes, I suppose you could conclude that.”

“That explains why Snape hates you so much, Harry,” Ron noted. “He was reminded of your father…”

“And also why he's so willing to help,” Hermione added. “Your eyes remind him of the woman he once loved…a woman killed by the man he once followed.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Very conflicting struggles, but I once heard an old fool say that love conquers all. I do believe that love can override all other emotions as well, and that love Severus once held for your mum, Harry, was much stronger than the hate he held for your father.

“Severus told me when he came back, that he had begged Voldemort not to kill Lily when he came to get you. Voldemort had originally agreed, but of course retracted his agreement. That was the breaking point in which Severus agreed to come back to the good side.”

“Oh, fuck,” Harry cursed. “S-so that's why when I, well—when I see Voldemort killing my parents, he told my mum to step aside…”

“And also what saved you, Harry.”

“My mum's love…” Harry shook his head. “So, in a way, Snape indirectly saved me?”

Dumbledore nodded. “If Voldemort hadn't considered sparing your mum's life, which he still took in the end, her love for you would have never saved you.”

“That's mental,” Ron breathed. “Absolutely mental.”

“But—but why didn't you tell me this before?” Harry asked.

Dumbledore smiled sadly. “There wasn't enough time.” Harry could only nod, knowing exactly what Dumbledore meant.

“So, if you're under a Fidelius charm, which I suspect you are,” Harry started. “Then why can't you tell us what it is you're keeping secret? I mean, nothing can happen since, well, since you're—not here anymore.”

“I can't exactly tell you, Harry, but I can explain to you the properties of a Fidelius. The charm doesn't only involve two separate people, but instead…”

“The binding of two souls,” Hermione finished for him. “So even in death, the charm could harm the other person whom the charm refers to?”

“My thoughts exactly, Miss Granger.”

Harry nodded numbly. “So, should we be hearing from Snape or Malfoy soon? I mean, I'm not about to throw a party for the two of them or anything…”

“I wouldn't expect you to, Harry. And I wouldn't expect any contact with the two of them until a crucial moment, but I hear a calling from the Minister's office that I must attend to.”

The trio's eyes widened. “You keep in contact with Scrimgeour?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Yes, he finds it important that I walk him through his job every now and then,” Dumbledore smirked. “Before I leave, I must tell you three how proud I am of your accomplishments, and don't give up on that number theory, Miss Granger.”

Harry looked over at Hermione who seemed to have had another revelation. “Oh, of—of course, sir.” With a wink, Dumbledore disappeared from his portrait.

The room was silent for a while after Dumbledore's departure, and Professor McGonagall was the first to speak. “I didn't realize what dangers you three were up against—I…” Harry watched as a tear fell down her leathery cheek and she moved to sweep Hermione into a tight embrace. “You be careful, do you hear me, Hermione? Take care of your boys. I know you can do this.”

Even Hermione's eyes had filled with tears, Harry noted, as she stepped back from her long-time professor. “Thank you, Minerva.” It was the first time either Ron or Harry had heard Hermione address McGonagall by her first name.

Professor McGonagall nodded to the three of them, and they took it as their cue that it was time for them to go. Waiting as the revolving staircase brought them back down to the entrance, they stood in an uncomfortable silence.

As soon as they had gone through the doors, past the gargoyle, Hermione took off running toward the end of the corridor where a large man-sized vase stood. Hermione carefully pulled it down so it was resting on its side on the ground and she peered inside, retracting her head moments later with a look of disappointment crossing her face. “I thought it would be in there,” she said.

Ron cocked his eyebrow at her. “What?”

“The cup.” Harry and Ron looked at her, surprised. “Dumbledore said my number theory was plausible, and, well, we're on the seventh floor, so let's start looking.”

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“Ohhhh, Harry,” Hermione moaned as he delved his tongue deeper inside of her, moving to circle her clit and push two fingers into her. She groaned and bucked her hips up to his mouth. Sucking her one last time was enough to make her arch off the bed and let out the loudest moan he had ever heard come from her. He watched her for a minute, and he knew he would never get over how beautiful she looked in complete ecstasy. Even as she came down from her high, she was still shaking from the intensity of her orgasm. Harry climbed up on the bed and couldn't help but to kiss her repeatedly.

A loud thump on the wall shook them both from the blissful moment and they could hear Ron shout from the other side, “Put a bloody charm on the room, you wankers!” Harry and Hermione laughed sheepishly as Harry pulled his wand from the bedside table and waved it to lock a silencing charm in place.

The trio had finally given up after searching the seventh floor all day for the cup. Of course, it didn't help that every time a student passed by, they almost wet themselves with excitement over seeing Harry Potter. The Gryffindor common room was the worst. Students flocked the trio when they entered. Thhey tried to search at dinner time when there wouldn't be any students around, but news had spread that Harry, Hermione and Ron were staying in the castle and they had skipped dinner to meet the famous threesome.

Harry chuckled at the memory. “I still can't believe that girl asked me to sign her bra.” He could feel Hermione giggle against him, and pulled her against his chest, resting his chin on her head. They stayed like that for a bit until Hermione looked up at him.

“Harry?”

“Hmmm?”

Hermione kissed him. “Do you think we'll find it?”

Harry smiled and moved to lie on top of her and gave her a sound kiss. “Hermione, with your brilliance, I know we will.” She grinned and gave into his kisses, subconsciously opening her legs to allow him to move between her. They had nothing on except Harry's boxers and she started rubbing her hips against his growing erection.

“Oh, fuck, Hermione,” Harry groaned. “You have to stop that before I rip my boxers off and…ungh.”

Hermione stopped moving and turned to roll out from beneath him. She reached around the side of the bed for her knickers and night clothes, tossing his own in his direction. Harry started tugging on his pyjamas silently, hoping she wasn't going to leave.

Hermione sighed and turned in his direction, her eyes downcast. “Harry, I—I hope you don't think that I don't want to sleep with you, I just…”

“Shhhh,” Harry reached in her direction and pulled her into a tight hug, holding her head to his chest. “I understand if you're not ready, Hermione.”

She shook her head. “It's not that, really. I just—well, I want to…wait.”

“For marriage?”

She nodded. “Yes. I know it's so old fashioned and everything, but…”

Harry chuckled and hugged her tighter to him. “Hermione, if you want to wait until you get married, I totally respect that.” He pulled back from her to look into her dark honey eyes. “I just want to tell you, though, that if you say yes, I won't be able to stop.”

Hermione nodded again and pulled back from him entirely, looking down at her hands. Harry was afraid that he had scared her and that she would run back to her own room which, thus far, had been entirely unused.

He pulled her chin up to look at him, feeling a surge swell through his veins at the emotions he was feeling. “Hermione, I won't be able to stop if you say yes, because that's how much I love you.”

He watched as a tear fell down her cheek and he reached up with his thumb to wipe it away. She attacked him, pushing him over and kissing him, and then settling into his chest again. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Harry chuckled and kissed the top of her head as she fell into a peaceful sleep. It was difficult for him to fall asleep, however, because he had left himself wide open and vulnerable, telling her he loved her like he did, and then to have her not say it back. It pulled at his heart, making him want to cry. It was becoming harder and harder for him to lay in bed with her and not make love to her. But he held true to his word: if she asked him, he wouldn't hesitate…not even for a second.

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Just to let you all know, I still am doubtful that Snape is good. I just am making him good in this story for a reason you will come upon later. I still doubt that he and Malfoy will ever be good.

KILL THE DEATHEATERS…errrr, I mean…

So yes, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was a hard one to write. :(

Thank you for all the reviews! You all truly are wonderful!

And speaking of wonderful, thanks Rylee! You are amazing! :) Thanks for catching the hands/fingers mistake. 8 | LOL!

The information about the seventh floor of Hogwarts can be found at this site:

http://www.hp-lexicon.org/hogwarts/castle/hogwarts_inside.html#Seventh

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10. Slave to Love

Thanks to all who reviewed last time!

Contains sexually explicit material. You have been forewarned. :P

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Without You

Chapter 10: Slave To Love

By Elan Aitis

Tell her I'll be waiting in the usual place
With the tired and weary, and there's no escape
To need a woman you've got to know
How the strong get weak and the rich get poor

Slave to love, oh, slave to love

You're running with me, but don't touch the ground
We're the restless hearted not the chained and bound
The sky is burning a sea of flame
Though your world is changing I will be the same

(Chorus:)
Slave to love, oh, slave to love
Slave to love, and I can't escape
I'm a slave to love

Can you help me

The storm is breaking, or so it seems
We're too young to reason, too grown up to dream
Now spring is turning your face to mine
I can hear your laughter, I can see your smile

(Chorus x3)

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“How do I know I can trust you with the mentorship of young Mr. Malfoy, Snape?”

“My Lord, I have fooled Dumbledore for years, kept the boy for your own hands, retrieved the prophecy for you, even killed Dumbledore, leading all the Death Eaters out of Hogwarts, all in your honour. I don't see, my Lord, why you can't trust me.” Snape was kneeling at Voldemort's feet.

Tom Riddle looked at the man unconvincingly. “You're hiding something; I can't tap into your mind.”

“My Lord, I am ashamed of my childhood. I don't want you to see what I was like at my most vulnerable times.”

“You're pathetic! Crucio!” Voldemort shouted as Snape's body bent at odd angles, his bones on fire and his lungs gasping for any breath to hold onto. “Your most vulnerable times should be with me, Severus. Your childhood should be miniscule to the fear you should feel under my power.” Voldemort took off the curse and Snape wheezed, attempting to sit up.

“M-my Lord, of course it is miniscule, but I feel shame for my vulnerability at Hogwarts and how I couldn't even stand up properly to that dead-headed prat James Potter.”

“If you trust me, you will let me see the humiliation he put you through. If not, than I will be forced to kill you, Severus. I will not hesitate this time, especially with what you put me through last time,” Voldemort said coldly, referring to the power Lily had used to save Harry.

Snape trembled. This was it: he was dead. He'd held onto Dumbledore's word as long as he could, and did everything he could have to keep him alive: Lily's son.

Snape tried to allow Voldemort access to only those memories the Dark Lord was seeking, those of his horrendous childhood. Voldemort, however, was too powerful. He broke through to Snape's best hidden secrets.

Red eyes glaring, wand raised, Voldemort pointed at Snape and coolly said the words: “Avada Kedavra.” A green light shot out and hit Snape straight in the chest as he fell backwards, eyes open in death.

Voldemort turned to Draco Malfoy who was crouched in the corner. “Dispose of him, boy. I don't want to see his face.” Draco nodded silently, damaged emotionally beyond anything he'd ever imagined in his earlier years. This is what Potter must feel like, Draco thought to himself.

“Crucio!” Voldemort shouted in Draco's direction. The young man cried out in agony. “If you're going to be under my rule, you will never compare yourself to the pitiful Harry Potter.” The curse was lifted and Draco sobbed, moving toward the body of his beloved Professor.

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“Harry, Hermione! Come help me move this bloody vase!” Ron shouted through the doorway. Harry groaned as Hermione moved from the crook of his arm, sliding out of bed and padding over to the door.

She opened the door to see Ron completely dressed and groomed. “You're up early,” she said with a smirk.

“I had a brilliant idea, but you two have to help me. Come on!” Ron ran outside the Room of Requirements again as Harry and Hermione grudgingly followed him. They found themselves in front of the man-high vase again.

“Ron, I thought we already looked in the vase,” Harry mumbled, his voice still a bit husky from having just woken up.

Ron gave him a pointed look. “I know, stupid. We have to move it. Now come on, help me!”

“Ron, where are we moving the vase to?” Hermione asked.

“To the Room of Requirements of course,” Ron said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. When Harry and Hermione looked at him as though he'd gone mad, he continued. “You remember the mirror of Erised, right Harry? Well—and I'm surprised you didn't figure this one out, Hermione—I think if we move this vase into the Room of Requirements, and wish enough that the cup is in it, it might just appear.”

“What makes you think it's going to appear?” Harry asked.

“Well, I think it's too easy for a person to accidentally knock over the vase and come upon it, and I'm sure Voldemort came across the Room of Requirements when he was at Hogwarts. Maybe he put a concealing charm on it and we can only wish it off in the Room of Requirements. I dunno, I just thought it was worth a shot.”

“We'll try it, Ron,” Hermione tried to sound reassuring. “It's definitely a possibility.”

“Well come on then!” Ron pointed his wand at the vase at the same time Harry and Hermione did, their combined powers carrying the vase in the direction of the Room of Requirements. Some Hogwarts students stopped in the hall, awing at the trio, but Harry, Ron and Hermione continued, ignoring the staring students.

Finally they reached the Room of Requirements, opening the door and floating the vase inside. Closing the door behind them, Ron paced back and forth in front of the vase for a bit. Nothing happened.

“Bloody hell, it didn't work,” Ron said dejectedly.

“Let's try something else,” Hermione suggested. “Harry, you try pacing, and think really hard about the cup. You've seen it, so you know what to look for.”

“Right.” Harry set to pacing back and forth, picturing the cup and thinking about the time he'd conjured the whistle out of mid air. Suddenly the vase began to shake and the trio ran behind the couch just before it exploded. They peered up and over the couch, and to Harry's amazement, Helga Hufflepuff's cup sat proudly where the vase had just been.

“Bloody hell, Harry, is that…”

Harry nodded. “That's it. Well done, Ron,” Harry noted, patting his best mate on the back. Ron, however, couldn't stop smiling. Harry knew he was right proud of himself for figuring this out.

“Oh, my…” Hermione said, drawn to the cup.

She reached for it and Harry nearly tackled her. “Don't touch it, all right?”

She nodded. “I completely forgot! I'm just so…allured by it…”

“It is rather nice-looking,” Ron said, his eyes glazing over as he visibly tried hard not to go any nearer to it than he all ready was.

“Just—don't touch it. We don't know whether it's number two or what.”

Hermione shook her head, pulling her mind from the beautiful cup that sat before her. “You're right, Harry. Here, let me…” She hesitated for a moment, and then waved her wand in the direction of the cup, putting up a box around it. They all sat in silence, and Harry remembered the look he had seen Voldemort possess in Dumbledore's pensive…the look of desire to touch, to hold; to own the cup for himself.

“Well then,” Ron said after a moment. “I guess we ought to be getting back home now that we have the cup.” Harry and Hermione nodded silently, retreating to their room and packing everything up.

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“So what the bloody hell are we supposed to do with it now?” Ron asked from his chair in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place. The three of them had returned to Harry's home after a short good-bye with McGonagall, Hagrid…and even Dumbledore.

“Don't give up hope, Harry,” were his parting words, and the words that had been swimming through Harry's head the entire day. Don't give up hope. It was so hard, seeing as every day of his life lately, Harry wondered if it would be his last. He wondered if at any moment Death Eaters would attack his home and kill him, Ron…Hermione. Oh, Hermione…

“Well anyway, I'm completely knackered,” Ron continued, standing up from his chair. Harry's previous thoughts sent an overwhelming pain through him, wondering if this would be the last time he ever saw his best mate.

Harry stood and crossed the room, enveloping Ron in a tight hug. “Stay safe, Ron,” Harry said.

Ron hugged him back awkwardly, though he patted him on the back. “I will, Harry. You take care.” With a backwards glance and a smirk, Ron threw a bit of floo powder into the fireplace and stepped into the green flames as he said the name of his own flat.

Harry couldn't stop looking in the direction Ron had just left, and Hermione stood up from her spot on the couch and moved to hug Harry from behind. “What's wrong?”

Harry gripped her hands as he willed himself not to cry. “I-I um…it's—it's nothing.”

“Harry, you know that never works on me.” She turned him around to face her. “Harry, what is it?”

He hesitated a moment, and then took a deep breath. “I-I um, well, I've been thinking,” he said, not wanting to tell her about his previous thoughts, and instead changing the subject to something else he'd been thinking of. “Ever since we went to Godric Hollow that one night, I wonder if I could ever go back…if I'd ever have the strength to go back.”

“Do you want to go there right now?” Hermione asked him seriously.

Harry was choking back sobs, forcing himself not to come undone. “S-sure.” Hermione nodded and pulled him by the hand out of the drawing room, down the steps to the ground floor. They walked outside together and to a small alleyway where she helped him apparate to a secluded spot near Godric's Hollow.

Harry looked up at the beautiful house that had once been his home. A lump formed in his throat, and he had to push it down as Hermione led him gently towards the house. As she pushed open the front doors, a heart-wrenching rush streamed over him, filling him with emotions he had pushed back since his last visit to this house.

“Come on, Harry. It's all right,” Hermione coached as she led him through the front door. Harry was positively shaking at this point, and felt as though his knees were going to buckle.

“Hermione, just—just take me up to my old room. I-I…”

Lily! Take Harry someplace safe. I'll hold him off as long as I can.

“Ngh,” Harry moaned as Hermione walked him up the stairs.

James! I—I…

Lily, go! Before he comes!

I love you!

I love you too.

“Aghhhh,” Harry groaned, clutching onto Hermione as tears prickled at his eyes.

“Come on, Harry,” Hermione whimpered. “Only a little further.”

No! Not Harry, take me instead!

Step aside you silly girl.

No, please! Have mercy! Take me instead!

Avada Keda—

“AHHHHHHHH!” Harry screamed as he broke away from Hermione and clawed at the wall. Sliding to the floor and bawling, Hermione kneeled down beside him and took him in her arms, rocking him back and forth.

“Shhhhh,” she whispered. “Harry it's all right. It's not happening right now.”

Harry continued to shake as sobs wracked his body. She turned him around so that his tears were soaking her shirt and stood up with him, walking him over to his parents' room. He was still sniffling when she pressed her lips to his, tasting the salt from his tears and sucking his lower lip into her mouth. Harry pressed against her, thrusting his tongue desperately into her mouth and pulling her flush against his body.

“Hermione,” he sobbed. She shushed him and kissed him again, turning him and leading him back to the large bed. He scooted back until his body covered the mattress, and Hermione followed him, straddling his thighs and moulding her body into his. Harry gasped when she began to thrust her hips against his.

“H-Hermione…what—what are…”

“Shhh,” She whispered and then moaned at the contact she was getting from the growing bulge in his jeans. “Harry, I love you, and I want you.”

“B-but I thought…”

“Harry, I only wanted to do this with the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Harry's eyes glazed over. “I didn't think I would know for sure who he was until my wedding day, but I've realized you're that man, Harry. You're the only man I want to kiss and make love to for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, God,” Harry cried into her shoulder.

“I want to wake up with you every day and have you inside me in the morning. I want my children to have piercing green eyes and call you Dad. Harry, I want to marry you and grow old with you. Is that something you want?”

“Oh, God is it ever,” Harry moaned as he flipped her over so that he was on top. He didn't move to kiss her, but stared at her with those beautiful emerald-green eyes that were stained in tears. “Are you saying yes, then?”

Hermione didn't even hesitate. “Yes.”

Harry was overcome with all the emotions he was experiencing, and didn't know what else to do other than kiss her. Harry pressed his tongue against her lips and she opened willingly, frantically meeting his pace.

Harry wasn't moving to divest her of her clothing, so she tugged up on his t-shirt, catching it on his glasses and tossing them both aside. He mirrored her action, pulling her sweater over her head and tossing it on the floor beside the bed, never letting his lips move from hers but to divest her of clothing.

Hermione wasted no time in removing his pants and before either of them knew it, they were both naked and Harry was resting between her legs, his shaft at her entrance. Harry almost groaned at the heat that was radiating out of her, making him ache for her.

“Are you sure?” Harry choked back a sob. Hermione only nodded and kissed him soundly as he slipped into her, hesitating at her innocence, but soon breaking through that.

Hermione whimpered.

Harry kissed her face, his old tears mixing with her fresh ones. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I will be, just…go slow.” A fresh wave of tears poured out of his eyes and he couldn't stop kissing her as he pulled out slowly, and pushed his way gently back in.

Harry bit back a groan and Hermione placed a hand on his cheek. “Please, Harry. Let everything go. Let me know how you feel.” Harry nodded and sniffled a bit as he continued thrusting into her tenderly. He moaned loudly when Hermione started to meet his hips as she pushed against him. Harry knew this night would never be erased from his memory: the smell of her hair, the feeling of being inside her, knowing they were committing such an intimate act in a place that haunted him for years. That alone made his heart swell and override the terrible memories he'd once encountered in this very house.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione moaned. Her grip on his arms tightened and he started to thrust into her harder, faster. Her moans escalated, and he groaned against her neck, sending her into bouts of shivers at the huskiness in his voice. He continued to pump into her until he felt a pleasurable clench in his lower gut, and felt himself let go inside of her.

For a few minutes, Harry couldn't move. He could vaguely feel Hermione pushing his fringe around from beneath him, and it felt so good to lie in her arms. Harry could feel himself pleasantly sticking to her from the sweat they'd generated, and it sent a jolt through him. They'd just had sex.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Hermione. She looked…so lovely. He couldn't help but kiss her. It was so intimate: holding her tightly to him, both sweaty, kissing lazily and he was still between her legs and inside of her. Never in his life had Harry been so…happy.

“God, I love you,” Harry moaned against her lips, moving his head to the crook of her neck.

“Harry?” Her voice was choked and broken. He snapped his head up to look at her face, beautiful and brimming with tears. “Promise me. Promise me that you'll never leave.”

Harry smiled sadly. “I promise.” Hermione sighed and pulled his head back to her shoulder, before they both fell asleep.

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Thanks again to Rylee! I made so many stupit (haha, irony with the spelling) mistakes before you took a look at it. :P You are my savior!

And thanks to all of you who read! Thanks to those of you who reviewed!

Until 11…

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