A/N: Holy @$%@%$#^#^!!! I thought maybe I'd get a few more reviews on the last chapter from my asking for feedback, but 26? Not to mention 34 in total just from TODAY. I think my jaw just hit the floor. Honestly everyone, I REALLY appreciate the feedback and the reviews. I know that this story is written to chapter 24 (chapter 25 is kicking my ass right now :/) so there's not much I can change but what I DO edit I write with the reviews in mind. Hopefully this chapter goes a bit towards clearing things up as to what's going on with our favourite couple - it's not a perfect explanation but there'll be a few more things that will help you figure it out.
Disclaimer: Really, if there's still some people out there who think I own Harry Potter.. I swear, if I did, I'd be eating the juiciest steak right now with a chocolate martini in one hand and a fork full of steak in the other, not a Lipton Soupworks chicken noodle bowl that is made in a microwave. AKA, it's not mine.
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The bright, morning sun began to peek through the curtains in Harry and Hermione's bedroom as it rose over the hilltops of Godric's Hollow. The sunshine spread across the room, jolting Hermione wide-awake. To her eyes, which had been in darkness all night, the sudden illumination of the room was a shock. She quickly squeezed them shut as she dove under the covers to hide from the morning light.
As Hermione snuggled deeper under the covers, enjoying the warming sensation of the sun while avoiding it's bright glare, she noticed that she was able to spread her arms and legs quite far without bumping into anything. Surprised, she braved the torturous sunlight to peek above the covers and check the bed.
Harry was nowhere to be found.
Feeling even more confused than she had last night, Hermione crept from beneath the sheets and donned an old robe Harry had left by the bed. It looked like his first year Quidditch robes, judging by the size, and Hermione supposed he had been looking them over for sentimental reasons. It was just short enough to resemble a nightshirt on her, and tight in all the right places. Padding silently down the hallway, she checked the bathroom and found nothing. Harry was not in the kitchen, the sitting room, and he most certainly wasn't outside. There was only one place left that Hermione hadn't checked. Recalling Harry's words the previous night, she quickly made her way to the library.
Curled up there on the floor, with a scarlet and gold blanket bearing the Gryffindor crest covering his lower half and his back to the door where Hermione stood, Harry Potter was asleep. He looked so innocent as he lay there. His knees were tucked into his upper body, resembling the fetal position, while his arms were curled around a large brown pillow. From her vantage point, Harry reminded Hermione of a young boy snuggling his teddy bear. He looked quite cute, actually. Deciding to give Harry a proper wakeup call, Hermione crept around his sleeping form to see the peaceful expression on his face.
Dropping to her knees to plant a kiss on his lips, Hermione paused as her eyes studied what was in Harry's arms. She knew there was a reason why the colouring of what she'd thought was a pillow had struck her as odd. James and Lily Potter had stuck to mostly Gryffindor-related colours in their house décor, and brown was certainly not red, scarlet, crimson, yellow, gold, or lemon. She bent down for a closer look, and her hands couldn't react in time to hold in the uproar of laughter that tumbled from her lips.
Harry James Potter, The Chosen One, The Boy-Who-Lived, Quidditch Star and Hogwarts Champion, had fallen asleep cuddling the very book that Hermione had taken away from him the previous night.
Her outburst had shaken Harry from sleep as he began to twitch this way and that. Sleeping on the floor of the library apparently did not agree with him. Rolling over with a groan, Harry accidentally mashed his face into the spine of the book. He was too tired and suffering from too many cramps to care, and simply chose to lay there rather than antagonize his already sore muscles by attempting to move again.
Sitting back with a giggle, Hermione performed a few charms to alleviate Harry's painful joints. "Wake up, silly!" she laughed, dropping a kiss on his forehead.
With another loud groan, Harry grumbled to himself as he pushed himself upwards into a sitting position. Hermione could've sworn she heard the phrase 'lost page' a few times, but chose to dismiss it in light of Harry's embarrassing situation. She was still having trouble believing that her eyes had seen Harry sleeping with a book only a few minutes earlier.
As Harry turned to look at his girlfriend, another peal of laughter escaped her lips.
"Whuzzit?" he asked sleepily, letting out a yawn.
Hermione's laughter quickly became uncontrollable as she was gasping for breath. As if the priceless image of Harry snuggling a book wasn't enough, she was rewarded with another image to remember for the rest of her life.
Across the side of Harry's face was the imprint "tnemeriuqeR fo kooB ehT".
Apparently while he had been to sore to move his mashed face from the heavy tome's spine, his skin had pressed so hard into the worn brown leather of the cover that the embossed title had transferred its indented image to his cheek. The effect was much like when one falls asleep with the covers twisted underneath them in a strange manner. The wrinkles in the sheets often transfer themselves to the skin.
Hermione got the distinct impression that Harry was a touch too tired to reprimand her for laughing so hard. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she settled down a bit, and grinned at him. "That book you fell asleep with? That you just squished the side of your face into? Well, the title of the book is now stuck on the side of your face."
Harry was beginning to feel more awake now, and gave Hermione a disapproving stare. "Whom I keep for a bedfellow is none of your business!" he said haughtily, grabbing at the book and hugging it close to his chest.
"Find your page yet?" she taunted him, deciding that the best way to deal with his strange behaviour was to tease him mercilessly about it.
Turning away from her, Harry cradled the heavy volume in his lap. "Yes, I did," he muttered. "It only took me three hours, mind you, but your snatching the book away from me really wasn't necessary!"
"Oh, come off it, Harry, you were acting like me! I'm the bookworm in this relationship, and don't you forget it!" she teased, grasping his shoulders in a strong, yet feminine hold. When Harry didn't reply, she took to kneading and massaging the muscles in his shoulders, providing additional relief from the cramps due to his sleep on the library floor.
Harry leaned into her hands as they did their work, erasing the aches from his sore shoulders and back. He gradually let the book slide onto the floor as Hermione's hands worked lower and lower until they found themselves at the hem of his t-shirt. Quickly ensnaring the fabric in her grasp, Hermione swiftly pulled the shirt over his unruly mop of black hair and tossed it aside on a chair. Her nimble fingers continued their task as her hands wandered back up Harry's spine and across his shoulders. In the blink of an eye Hermione had switched her position so that she was in front of Harry, straddling his outstretched legs. Entangling her fingers in his raven hair, Hermione kissed Harry more passionately than she ever had before. Hormones raging, Hermione grabbed Harry's hands and wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing them closer together. Her fingers worked between their bodies at the drawstring of Harry's pyjama pants, quickly working the knot free and allowing her to slip her hands beneath the waistband.
It was at that particular moment that Harry noticed Hermione had left their bedroom wearing nothing but his old Quidditch robes from his first year as Seeker. Literally, nothing but his old robes. In Hermione's haste to figure out where he had ended up spending the night, she'd forgotten to don a pair of knickers before leaving the bedroom. Harry's body sprang to attention as he snapped out of his book reverie, noticing exactly how close he was about to get to his girlfriend. Though he had been in this position quite a few times before, there was something different about Hermione this time around. Something didn't seem right.
"Hermione," he said in a commanding tone, demanding her attention.
She paused to gaze at him from beneath her lowered lids, her hands only slowing for a moment in their attempt to lower Harry's waistband even further. "Mmm?" she responded, nuzzling his earlobe with her lips.
Fighting with every decent bone in his body-to Harry, there was only one indecent one at that time and, even though it was heavily outnumbered by the rest of the bones in his body, it was still winning-he did his best to dispel Hermione's actions.
It was when Harry began to feel a draft on his nether regions that he finally managed to take control of the situation.
With every ounce of control Harry possessed, he deftly knocked Hermione off of his lap and onto the floor while positioning himself over her. He kept her arms pinned to her sides as his stare bore into her.
"Hermione Jane Granger, what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" he asked incredulously.
Hermione's answer was a small, yet discernible upward thrust of her hips, her upper thighs grazing against Harry's.
Taking a deep breath as he realized just how close Hermione had come to him slipping inside of her, Harry scrambled to put his pyjama pants back to normal. No matter how often he had fantasized about Hermione accosting him in such a similar manner, he knew that taking their relationship to that kind of level was something they were definitely not ready for. Sure, they steadily fooled around, but it was nothing overly serious. His girlfriend's thrusting hips were mimicking something that Harry, despite desperately wanting to, knew he shouldn't do. At least, not just yet. Voldemort was still on their backs and it would seem wrong to, well… Harry didn't want to talk himself out of it so he chose to ignore it instead.
"Woman, you are acting just like me! A randy teenaged prat who can't help but push himself at you from time to time! This isn't the Hermione I know; what's gotten into you?"
Hermione's face darkened in anger. "What's gotten into me!? How about what's gotten into you, Mister Potter? 'You made me lose my page!'" she mimicked, tossing the book back at him from its forgotten place on the floor. "I tried to kiss you last night and all you could do as whine about how I'd bloody well made you lose your page!"
Fighting to get out of Harry's grip, Hermione rose from the floor and glared at him. She could feel the heat from the ring against her chest, and saw a similar glow coming from Harry's own ring. "Harry," she whispered, pointedly staring at his chest.
Harry paused in his confused anger long enough to realize what she was staring at. "The rings," he said softly, instantaneously calming down.
"Something tells me we really need to sort out what's going on with these rings. I bet your parents never acted like this; why is it affecting us so much?" Hermione pondered, calming down. She sat back in a chair, her hormones suddenly slowing down. "I would never go at you like that!"
"And why the hell would I care so much if you made me lose a page?" Harry chuckled. "Although, this book is pretty special." Continuing to sit on the floor, Harry held the book that Hermione had thrown at him only moments earlier. Suddenly a look of astonishment crossed his girlfriend's face.
"I can't believe I didn't see it before!" she gasped, dropping to her knees. She lightly ran her fingers over the tome's front cover, in all its brown leather embossed glory.
"See what?" Harry asked, prodding her on. He knew how Hermione was with books, and was surprised she hadn't noticed earlier.
Hermione's eyes widened as she read the title of the book. "How could I not have realized earlier? When you got the imprint of the book on your face I was too busy laughing at you to realize what it said! It was backwards, but still!"
Harry grinned, glad that for once, he had discovered the book that held the key to everything they needed rather than Hermione snatching it up first.
"The Book of Requirement," she breathed, snatching it from Harry's grasp for the second time in twenty-four hours. She couldn't dare open the pages, she was still in awe of what the title entailed.
"Sound familiar?" Harry smirked. "Maybe now you see why I was so mad that you made me lose my page!"
Hermione nodded. "Of course, of course…but to walk past a book three times while thinking? You weren't walking around last night."
"The book isn't exactly like the Room of Requirement, Hermione. All you have to do is hold the book closed and think of what information you need it to contain. Concentrate hard enough, open the book, and whatever page you open it to will hold the facts you need. If you close it, though, you'll have to start all over again."
Hermione spent the next hour thinking of trivial things and squealing in delight when the book displayed exactly what she had requested. While she entertained herself, Harry retrieved the notes he had been making from the book the previous night. While Hermione was concentrating on the book, he slipped them on top of the cover. When she opened her eyes she noticed the parchment in front of her.
"What's this?" she asked.
"My notes," he replied, sitting across from her. "I was asking the book some very important information last night."
Hermione's eyes widened as she began to scan the page. "It can tell you all of this?"
He nodded, a grim smile spreading across his face. "It won't necessarily make things easier, but they'll certainly go by a lot quicker with the help of the book."
She couldn't help but agree as she thumbed through his notes. There were maps of England, Scotland, and Ireland, all resembling some hastily sketched treasure map. There were numerous pages of Harry's scribbled writing; specific details and instructions.
Silently handing the book back to Harry, she willed him to continue with his work from the previous night. "Three down," she said quietly. "You've got all the work for two more, so you'd better finish the third one and be done with it."
Agreeing with his girlfriend, Harry set his attentions back to the book while she conjured up some breakfast for the two of them. Hermione sat in silence, with the exception of the crunch her toast made as she chewed, watching Harry as he learned the most valuable information of his life from an obscure textbook that he had randomly discovered in his parents' library.
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Ginny Weasley's mind was spinning as she found herself unceremoniously Portkeyed to an undisclosed location in Wizarding London. Peter Pettigrew was at her side, and gave her a curt nod as they landed.
"You have the Portkey?" he checked, glancing at her pocket.
Ginny regretfully withdrew her hand from her jacket pocket, showing Pettigrew the Portkey that Lord Voldemort had forced her to make. She had been considerably drained for a few days afterwards, but after some time to recover and a few mysterious potions from Severus Snape, the Dark Lord felt that she was ready to begin her task.
"And you remember where I said you could find Harry Potter?" Pettigrew seemed to be running through a mental checklist that Voldemort had given to him before leaving.
Again, Ginny had to admit to Pettigrew that she did. She was silently struggling with herself not to follow Voldemort's orders, but even the slightest inkling of a thought of doing so would cause her an incredible amount of pain. She silently cursed the Witch of Wizard who invented the Obeir potion.
Pettigrew continued to run through his list, ensuring that Ginny had not only the Portkey and the knowledge of Potter's location, but her new wand (courtesy of Gregorovitch, who was apparently more than willing to supply illegal wands to Death Eaters), both Muggle and Wizarding money, a Portkey that would return her, and only her, to Riddle Manor for further instruction, and a small charmed bag that expanded to hold what meagre belongings she had thought to bring with her.
"After all," Voldemort had sneered when he'd thrown the bag at her, "We wouldn't want anyone to think anything out of the ordinary of young Miss Weasley, now would we?"
Apparently his plan to have her parents believe she was staying with a friend had been executed flawlessly, and should any of her real friends turn up she was armed with an excuse thanks to Voldemort's instructions.
"Well, I'd best be off then," Wormtail patted his own jacket pocket with his silver hand, as if reassuring himself that he was not carrying anything that should have gone to Ginny. "You know how to get in contact if necessary." With that he was off, Apparating himself back to Riddle Manor.
Ginny found herself alone in an alleyway, which she quickly stumbled out of. As she began to get a hold of her location, she realized that she had been brought into Knockturn Alley. In a blind panic, Ginny ran towards the lighter end of the street, bursting out into Diagon Alley. It was late evening and the majority of witches and wizards that still lingered in the popular magical shopping district were making their way for The Leaky Cauldron. Knowing that the bar was the only way to get back into Muggle London, Ginny quickly cast a Disillusionment charm on herself and made her way through the older folk heading through the brick passageway.
Accidentally trodding on the toes of an older wizard, Ginny found herself making a mad dash for the front door before anyone could blame the incident on her. She was fully aware of the fact that she was invisible to everyone at the moment, but she was among a crowd of accredited adult wizards who more than knew what a Disillusionment charm was. She quickly removed the charm as she exited the bar onto the sidewalk, gasping for breath. As much as it pained her to do so, Ginny held out her wand hand. She didn't know her way around Muggle London, and was certainly not going to find her way to Harry Potter's location by walking.
Moments later a large, purple triple-decker bus appeared in front of her.
Stan Shunpike, the conductor, opened his mouth to make his welcoming speech when Ginny quickly cut him off. She shoved coins into his hands, ignoring the greasy grin on his face as he looked her up and down. "Godric's Hollow," she said sadly, taking a bed on the right hand side before Shunpike could say anything further.
He peeked into his palm and saw two gleaming golden Galleons resting there. Seeing as the basic fare was only eleven Sickles, he gaped. He chose not to push his luck with the young redhead, and left her alone, keeping the change from her fare for himself.
"Take it away, Ernie!" he said cheerfully, trying not to notice the sullen look on Ginny's face. The bus lurched forward with a loud bang as Ginny was thrown backwards onto the feather mattress. She made a grab for the brass railing at the head of the bed, and barely managed to grab on before the bus sped towards Godric's Hollow. Ginny couldn't help but wonder just how Shunpike was being so cheery. She remembered his false imprisonment in Azkaban earlier, and she knew that when Sirius Black had escaped the wizard prison he was nearly mad. She shrugged it off, reasoning that it was a trivial matter in the big picture, and held on for the ride.
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Inside the Headmistress' Office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minerva McGonagall found herself face to face with the portrait of her predecessor, Albus Dumbledore. They had been having quite a long chat about Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and Dumbledore's portrait was concerned with the young wizard's recent actions.
"They have James and Lily's rings," Minerva admitted, refusing to look the former Headmaster in the eye.
"I suppose Harry finally got into the Potter family vault, then?" Dumbledore replied, sighing.
McGonagall shook her head. "Gringotts apparently finally got around to organizing things for Potter in regards to the Potter Family Estate, the Black Family Estate, and your estate. Everything's been moved into one vault for him."
Dumbledore eyed her curiously from his portrait. "How do you know that?"
Minerva crossed her arms and gave Albus a look that seemed to say 'How stupid do you think I am?'
"Albus, you and I both know very well that you have charmed Harry's trust fund vault to ensure that he is always financially stable. When you died, nothing changed about that. The goblins at Gringotts enlarged Harry's trust fund vault to accommodate everything, as that's the vault he knows. It was easier for him that way. I have his vault statement right here, if you'd care to see it. It's still as charmed as the day you cast the spell."
McGonagall held the parchment up to the portrait for Dumbledore to take a look at.
"I see your point, Minerva," he admitted. "About the rings… I'm assuming the Order knows Harry's location?"
"He sends word every three days so that we know he's alright," McGonagall assured him.
"Next time he sends an owl, send a response. Invite Harry and Hermione to the castle to stay for a bit. I'd like to have a talk with them, if they wouldn't mind."
Minerva nodded, already pulling out a quill and fresh parchment to compose her letter on. "Potter is set on some mission right now, you know. He may not be coming back to Hogwarts this fall."
"Just send the letter, Minerva. I can take care of the rest," Dumbledore smiled, that familiar twinkle in his eye gleaming at her from his painted stance in the canvas.
With a sigh, Minerva began to scratch her quill across the parchment, preparing it for when Harry's owl should arrive the next day.