A Fine Duet

runningidiot

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 29/06/2006
Last Updated: 17/07/2006
Status: completed

When a plan goes amazingly well, but hopelessly wrong at the same time, two people have to learn to cope with each other; in the same body.

Chapters

1. Part I

2. Part II

3. Part III

1. Part I

A Fine Duet

Summary:

When a plan goes amazingly well, but hopelessly wrong at the same time, two people have to learn to cope with each other; in the same body.

Disclaimer:

No one belongs to me…. Just playing with the creations of the great J.K Rowling!

Rating:

Pg 13 – for mildly offending language

Genre:

Romance/Humour with a touch of seriousness (only for the first chapter ;))

Author’s Note:

Random fic, the idea just sprung out of nowhere! Really!!

Part 1:

“This is it damn it!” To get his point across, Harry slammed his right fist on the table, causing the crudely built wooden table to tremble. While Ron was looking quite indifferent to it, Hermione was looking quite uneasy at the plan Harry had set before them and Harry was having quite a hard time convincing her it was the only way. “I know it’s reckless, but do you see any other way?!”

Hermione’s uneasiness seemed to raise, much to her displeasure. “Well, as … as you said. It is a bit reckless, but Harry!” She added at the sight of the fury rising on the boy’s expression. “It’s a really good spot to start! You must have gone to great lengths to find all this information!”

Sitting back down on his seat with a sigh, Harry’s tone softened. “We all did.” He shut his shimmering emerald eyes. “We all did….”

For the past year, the three of them had relentlessly sought out the remaining Horcruxes and, with the help of Dumbledore emerging in the form of a portrait and a miniature library stowed away in the basement of Grimmauld Place, they were able to find them all.

Well, all but one essentially.

To the dismay of everyone present, Harry himself concluded, after three months of futile searching, that he was the last Horcrux. After hours of tears mixed with rage and fear, Harry planned his course of action. In doing so, he sealed himself from his two friends for a length of around three days (he lost track of time a long time ago, especially when they had set up camp in – what seemed to be – the middle of nowhere) he presented them with this.

“You call this a plan?!” That was Hermione’s immediate reaction. “You … you just rush in blindly and … and….” She fell onto a couch and placed her face in her palms, the tears pouring from her eyes once more.

Ron was a little better.

“Well, mate,” he said sadly, his usually optimistic tone dismissed entirely. “I really see no other way…. I’m … I’m sorry you have to … to, you know….” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. But Harry knew all too well what he was talking about.

Harry wasn’t going to make it through the battle.

“We just … just need more time, Harry!” Hermione screamed out from the nearby couch, rising and stepping toward him slightly.

Wheeling about on her, Harry frowned. “Time is what we don’t have, Hermione.” He said coolly, thinking he had had enough of yelling for one week.

“But, Harry! This is … it’s …. Totally outrageous! Just totally outrag-”

“We get the point, Hermione.” Ron said setting himself on the couch while beginning to rub his eyes from sleep.

Looks like I’m not the only one who’s skipping sleep. Harry thought wryly to himself.

“Wait, Harry….” Harry’s head snapped up, he found himself sitting once more at the table. It seemed Hermione had brought him out of his reverie. “I know V-Voldemort’s already taken away….”

“McGonagall,” Ron said, causing Harry to remember one of their last failed raids that ended up with McGonagall’s disappearance. “And Filtch….”

“Y-yes, Ron … we kno-” it was clear that Hermione didn’t want to hear the list of disappearances anymore than she needed to. Waking up every morning to read an article about the latest one was bad enough.

But Ron, as Harry knew all too well, just quite stubborn. “I read yesterday that Fudge was killed, eh? He wasn’t that great a Minister…. But he didn’t really deserve…. You know…. Death.” With a sigh, Ron continued to name people Harry had encountered all through his life. “I also heard of Seamus’ family, apparently they weren’t killed by the … the normal Death Eater ways…. It was gruesome…. That’s all I heard….”

Harry guessed that the “normal Death Eater ways” were just going in and casting the quick Avada Kedavra at every direction on the compass face.

“R-Ron … stop it!”

“Then there was that raid on Diagon Alley just last Sunday…. Destroyed Ollivander’s shop totally I heard! And … F-Fred and….” His stubbornness had finally ended with the disappearances of the Weasley twins. Harry suspected that the Death Eaters saw their talent and made note of the market they had started with the Ministry’s many departments and decided to keep them, despite the fact that they were Weasleys.

“Then there’s Ginny….” Harry found himself mumbling. Apparently Malfoy had caught wind of the relationship Harry and Ginny possessed…. It seemed as though breaking up with her wasn’t one of Harry’s brightest ideas, while she was wandering around alone at Platform 9¾, Malfoy had snatched her.

If I hadn’t broken up with her, she would have been with me! Those guilty thoughts had been nagging at Harry for months and months. Dreams of Malfoy rapping her then performing a multitude of curses on her without actually killing her plagued his mind during night and day.

He couldn’t stand it, he really couldn’t. So he did something he thought was quite ingenious. When September 19th rolled around, Harry presented his – now eighteen year old – best friend with a book on Occlumency.

“Ohhh … thank you, Harry!” She had said after tossing – it must have seemed like it to him – Ron’s present (Beauty and Beastie Hair: Restorative spells on your hair!) elsewhere. “I’ve been looking for something like this for ages! I thought maybe Grimmauld Place might have it, but I didn’t find anything there…. Then I looked at Knocktur-”

“Hermione,” Harry had no time for her stories. His serious tone made her look up at him in surprise. “I want you to learn everything in that book, and then teach it all to me.”

And so she had. Through many sleepless nights full of research and rigorous training, Hermione was able to teach him to shut his mind to the nightmares centred on Ginny. And now the two of them were, at least they thought they were experts at the practice.

“Oh, Harry….” Yet again, Hermione brought him out of his reverie. “We’ll get her back. I promise.”

And somehow, just looking at the shinning pools of chocolate in her eyes, Harry knew she was going to keep that promise.

~*~

Everything was set; Voldemort was even kind enough to have sent a letter to him to confirm his suspicions.

Harry James Potter,

I assure you that this will be first and last time you will ever receive a letter from me, Harry. I actually suspect that this will be the last letter you ever receive as well! Imagine that… it’s as if you’re reading a will right now, eh boy? My hand finds that it cannot grip a quill as well as it could back in my youth, so I am having Wormtail write this letter for me. So, essentially, the man – even though he barely ressss…. eMb…LeS oNE (it seemed as though Peter Pettigrew did not like writing an insult directed at him) - who has taken away your second father will now write your death on paper. Interesting, isn’t it Harry?

But I really do digress, and I’ve got a small army to command. If you really must know, we are heading right for Hogwarts, I’m currently in the midst of the final preparations which consist of assembling those forsaken Mermaids at the bottom of your pathetic lake and annihilating the centaurs who continue to dwell in your equally, if not more, pathetic forest teeming with the odours of all those Mudbloods….

I suppose I have angered you, Harry. I do not doubt it; after all, I know one of your best friends is a Mudblood too…. Better take better care of her than … oh, what was her name?

Ginny? Ah yes, that was her name. Oh YES, she told me to send her regards, she asked if she could write something, but then the realization of having no hands to write with dawned upon her….

So yes, I do plan to destroy the only place that we both considered homely to us. It and all its occupants really do stand in my way and because of that, I get rid of it, much like you swat at an annoying insect right? So you see, while you believe that we are different.

We are actually quite alike.

- Lord Voldemort

Wordlessly, he had passed the letter to Hermione and Ron who had speedily read it.

“Don’t listen to him, Harry!” Hermione had shot out of her seat, startling Ron, who was still reading. “It’s just like Sirius! He’s just realized that you’ve mastered Occulmency and he’s trying to take advantage of yo-”

“I’m going, Hermione.” Harry said coolly as he walked purposefully upstairs, whilst Hermione continued to protest.

“Didn’t you hear me, Harry?!” She was now blocked the way to Harry’s room and his needed supplies for the battle ahead. “There’s no one at Hogwarts! It’s closed! You don’t have people to save, Harry! You don’t have to be no-”

“Move, Hermione.” His tone was stern enough to make even the stubborn Hermione move out of his way. He quickly gathered his most needed things; his broom and his wand. He didn’t really need anything else…. How much would an invisibility cloak help in a battle? He would be too concerned about keeping it on him. He needed to stay focused on the battle with him.

“Harry!” It seemed Hermione’s stubbornness could take her far, very far indeed. “Are you even listening to me?!”

With a deep sigh, the Boy-who-lived turned to one of his two best friends and nodded. “Of course I have, Hermione. That doesn’t mean that I totally agree with i-”

“Harry James Potter! You will get yourself killed!”

The irony, it seemed, was lost to Hermione. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” With one last sad smile to Hermione, he disappeared.

~*~

“It seems, Harry.” Voldemort said triumphantly as he held both their wands in each of his hands. “That I am the victor.” Harry picked himself up from the forest floor while the observing centaurs around him growled in protest. “You cannot do anything!” It seemed as though Voldemort were talking to every being in the world, not just Harry himself, at least … the dynamics of his voice seemed to hint at that. “After your death Harry, no one can do anything. Remaining anonymous wasn’t exactly the smartest thing you could have done eh, Harry?”

Battered, but still breathing, Harry rose to the ground, pushing himself up using a nearby tree root.

“So this will be your final stand, Harry? I’m sure Dumbledore is shaking his head right now. Crucio!” Falling to the ground once more in a heap of screams and pain, the centaurs growled.

One of them even stepped forward, but a larger one blocked his path with a firm arm. “This is not our fight, Firenze.” Bane said sadly as he continued to watch, along with all the other centaurs, the destruction of their last hope against the growing darkness. “The planets have told us not to interfere, Firenze, this is not our fight.”

Remaining mute, Firenze’s eyes grew darker and narrower.

“Take heed, Harry!” Voldemort cried out in seemingly ecstasy. “You will see your family momentarily and, I daresay, your friends as well!”

So…. Harry thought to himself. This is Voldemort’s form of an orgasm…. Looking at him right now through his blurry vision, Harry saw a face concerted with eagerness and pure elation one that frightened Harry quite thoroughly.

“W – wait….” Harry wheezed as the pain continued to stab at every bone and every tendon within him.

“What did you say, Harry?” Voldemort said venomously as his smirk grew even more.

“WAIT DAMNIT!” Harry fixed his icy glare on Voldemort, shaking off the pain of the Cruciatus curse. Voldemort released the spell and watched the, quite prominent, smoke billow eerily around Harry.

“You have a final say on my magnificent art of pain?” Voldemort chuckled at his boastfulness.

Harry pointedly ignored it. “Wh – when I was born….” Coughing up today’s lunch, Harry’s mind was spinning out of control while his throat was more parched than a life-time desert inhabitant.

“The day that I suffered far more pain than you are feeling right now, than, as a matter of fact, anyone has ever felt before. What of that day?” He continued to watch unmoving as Harry vomited seemingly non-stop. “WHAT OF THAT DAY?!” Jabbing his wand toward Harry once more, Harry floated into the air, some of the lingering vomit sliding disgustingly from his mouth and onto his chin.

“Yo ... you … created a Hocrux that day….” While Harry believed Voldemort would be shocked at that fact, he, instead, laughed.

“Dumbledore probably told that bullshit about seven being a magical number, correct?” Voldemort said shaking his head. “It seems as though will abandoned that man in his late years…. I was originally planning on seven, but then other circumstances came up that blocked me from making a seventh. The day of your birth and almost my death did not create a Horcrux, Harry.”

“Are you quite sure, though?” Harry was now standing on both feet, but he still had to use a nearby tree for support. It seemed as though his legs were not content on supporting his full body weight. “I mean, logically, what else could this scar represent?”

Voldemort shrugged as Harry pointed at the lightning bolt on his forehead. “A mere memento of that horrendous day, and a forged connection between you and me, though it seems as though you have learnt to break that connection quite well, Harry.” Voldemort bowed. “I hold some, while being rather small, respect for you now. Will that be all then, Harry? Can I finish this?”

“NO!” Though it was not Harry who said it. Speeding across the forest floor was none other than…

“HERMIONE!” Harry screamed out in warning, he attempted to rush to her but fell to the ground, seeing as his legs had finally given up on him.

Voldemort seemed to hardly care about Hermione’s sudden entrance as he raised the wand on his left hand and pointed it at Harry’s body lying with his back facing Voldemort. “It seems as though I will not have the pleasure of seeing the fear in your eyes, Harry, as you die. Avada Kedavra!”

Harry could feel the eerie spell making his way toward him, the air around him seemed to vanish soundlessly. With a look of fear at Hermione who had tears streaming down her cheeks, he felt the curse hit him. And as the life inside of him drained away every so slowly, he thought about only one thing:

Hermione he thought, I … I must get to Hermione….

And with a sharp crack, Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived disappeared from the world.

“What is this?!” Voldemort screamed out immediately, not noticing the trembling in Hermione Granger. “Wh – where did he go? I hit him with the bloody curse!”

Hermione tentatively raised her wand, still unnoticed by Voldemort who was shouting at the centaurs, the still air and the equally, if not more, still trees around him. “Avada … kedavra.” Hermione said, in a voice whose treble didn’t belong to her.

She watched as Voldemort’s face turned toward the ghostly green ball of magic floated towards him, at first he looked cocky, but then when it made contact with his flesh his eyes seemed to lighten slightly and his pale skin disappeared, to be replaced by a normal, seemingly healthy peach colour. He fell back on the soft grass, visibly lifeless.

Hermione sank to her knees, tearing at the strands of hair in her scalp. Not in all of her reading or her actual, practical, experiences had she ever thought this was possible.

She assessed the situation as concisely as she could to the Minister when he approached her after she had released the news that Voldemort was dead and that Harry Potter, the true saviour, had disappeared.

Hermione was now standing in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, but she had never stepped on this part of the large hall before. She was standing where Dumbledore would normally stand whenever he made a speech to the entire school at the beginning of the year. Speaking publicly was never one of Hermione’s strong suits, even when she knew what she was talking about totally. Hermione Granger found that she was not the most social of characters; she was content on living in silence, with a book in her small hands. Though here she was, in front of multiple reporters of newspapers Hermione had never even heard of. The African Telepath and Magik Biography only being two of the ones she sighted.

She noticed with embarrassment rushing through her, that her hands were trembling quite profoundly and, even though Voldemort had been vanquished once and for all, her heart still hammered within her chest, still unable to grasp at the truth of the situation.

“I ran in just when Voldemort was about to finish him.” She said into the floating microphone in front of her, noting that it resembled the still-Muggle type that she had seen quite often throughout her seventeen years. “Harry was …. Visibly weakened, it was quite obvious to me who was on the winning side. Voldemort -” Hermione pointedly ignored the cringes and shivers evident around the hall “- had somehow obtained Harry’s wand and was using both of them to perform a multitude of Cruciatus curses on him. I’m actually quite surprised Harry was able to survive up till then without turning insane.” Hermione took a moment to breathe, for, as usual, the nervousness inside her made her anxious and speak quite fast.

“As you all now know, Lord Voldemort produced seven Horcruxes in order to make him invulnerable to anything, absolutely, anything we sent at him. Over the past year, while Hogwarts remained closed to all students, Harry, our best friend Ronald Weasley and I searched for the Horcruxes, finding six of them.

“Harry insisted on remaining as anonymous as possible throughout the search, and Ron and I abided by that, finding no reason to counter it. We eventually found, as I said earlier, six of them, but for the last few months we were turning up futile leads as to the location of the last one, until, that is, Harry made the final conclusion.

“He believed that he was the last Horcrux, and that Voldemort accidentally created a Horcrux on the night of his birth when he meant to kill Harry. Much to my … a - and Ron’s dismay, I could find nothing to disprove this hypothesis. One of the Horcruxes we destroyed was Voldemort’s pet snake, Nagini, which proved that Horcruxes can house themselves in living, breathing, beings.

“As we continued to disprove other leads, the list of possible Horcruxes grew thinner … and thinner, to the point that I truly believed Harry’s theory. Of course, I didn’t want to believe it at all. You see, to eliminate the creator of the Horcrux, you must, essentially, destroy the Horcrux before combating the creator. Destroying the Horcrux means … killing it, really.

“For Voldemort to die, Harry needed to die as well.”

This statement tore the silence around the hall immediately; uproars of complaints from every living person, newscasters were crossing out their scratched notes of ink on their loose parchment, shaking their heads in disappointment.

A seemingly living howler screamed out from the crowd. “You-know-who’s dead! You said it yourself! That’s why we’re all here isn’t it lads!” Raising his beefy arms and looking at his supporters around him they all nodded their heads firmly.

Hermione was getting uneasy, as if the nervousness inside of her didn’t make her feel bottled enough. “P – please, allow me to explain!” They don’t even know half of the truth! “Please, calm down!”

Hermione’s uneasiness remained even after the crowd’s noises died down. “Thank you, I know I’m sounding a bit like a hypocrite right now, but I do have a theory as to the explanation of this.”

“Of course she does!” Oh no… The slime ball Draco Malfoy waltzed into the Great Hall, his father right behind him. “She just doesn’t want you all to know the truth!”

What the devil is he talking about?! Hermione’s head was spinning out of control. Oh no…. Oh no, no, no … this isn’t right!

“She just wants to take the credit of it!” The crowd was now spinning even more than her head was. Cries of outrage and scandal screamed out at her as she tried to gain the attention of the crowd once more.

They need to know! She kept thinking to herself. They need to! Pulling out her wand, Hermione did something that even McGonagall would suspend her for. “Morsmordre!” The all too familiar symbol of Lord Voldemort floated eerily in the night sky that was the ceiling of the Great Hall. The silence that ensued felt more eerie than the aura of the Dark Mark could ever give off. Hermione quickly waved her wand to dispel the Dark Mark and, for a moment, relished the look of fear on both the Malfoy’s stupid faces. “Thank you, now even if I were to claim credit for the killing of Lord Voldemort, in doing so, I would claim the credit of killing one of the best people I have ever had the fortune of knowing.

“You see,” Hermione continued with, much to her pleasure, the throng’s attention. “I saw the killing curse come from one of Voldemort’s wands, his left one I noted, and I saw it contact with Harry’s spine region.

“Now, I have read about the killing curse quite a lot in my life. The sentence it brings with the casting for outdoes any other sentence for any crime in this world, with the exceptions of the other two Unforgiveable curses. My peers and I actually witnessed the casting of it in our fourth year with the supposed Alastor Moody as our professor, though that is another story entirely.” Hermione smiled in spite of the situation, she could see Malfoy jr. glaring up at her from the entrance of the Great Hall, venom leaking from his grey eyes. “I remember the professor told us its, essentially, an instant killer.

“However, I have actually met with a couple of experts on the killing curse. I do not have the fortune of having them here today, though I expect that they will be pleased their research will be released into the world. You see, they are Muggles.” A collective awe of shock was apparent in the hall. But Hermione ploughed onward. “And while many wizards and witches leave Muggles to deal with their own affairs, Muggles are just as interested in magic as we are. These two experts that I met are Mr. and Mrs. Hover and are parents to a certain … Alice Hover I think, who happens to be a witch. I, like her, am born in a Muggle family with no known relative of magical relation.

“Anyway, the parents of Alice are quite interested in the mechanics of magic and especially the more dangerous kinds, the killing curse for example. The Hovers set up a lab in their basement and using their daughter, who is now of age and quite brilliant, have concocted a safe haven for their, potentially dangerous, experiments. Thanks to Alice’s brilliance, they were able to keep themselves anonymous to the Ministry’s spell detectors. For the Hovers were very interested in the killing curse, that, they say, is their main study focus.

“Using both magic and Muggle technology, they were able to see what exactly happened when a life form is touched by the killing curse. The curse, it seems, clogs the many arteries and vessels in your body, draining them of the oxygen and blood that they each need. That’s why a victim of the curse seems so bloody pale, the blood wasn’t able to get anywhere for the last few seconds of his/her life. The curse moves from the hit spot all around the body, halting the progression of blood until it reaches the heart. And that’s when the victim dies.

“Now, when Harry Potter was hit by the curse, he lay perfectly still for about two seconds before disappearing with a sharp crack.” Muttering begun to brew within the crowd, but Hermione continued to plough onward. “This is when it gets really weird; apparition is rather difficult when a strenuous situation is present, correct?” Nods of agreement were visible throughout the throng. “But I suppose Harry thought the threat of splinching is far more appealing than death. And he is too right for his own good.” Smiling yet again in spite of herself she paused to breathe and take a drink from the table next to her. Feeling the cool liquid flow down her threat was overwhelming, to say the least.

After placing the empty goblet back on the table, she resumed her memorized speech. “When I performed the killing curse on Lord Voldemort and watched as the life drained from his body, I knew that Harry was dead. Though the knowledge of how the killing curse actually works is making me create a theory of my own.

“That Harry is only part dead in the place that he apparated to. I have already asked the Minster to search for any part that resembles Harry throughout Hogwarts, The Burrow and even Privet Drive. Places that Harry grew up and enjoyed being in, though I can hardly say that he enjoyed being at the Dursleys!

“Right now, Harry could be somewhere only dreams can take us, or he could be suffering without an arm and without any life support. I need you all to look out for him; I need you all to look for the true saviour of the entire world as we all know it.” And with that said, Hermione marched down from the Headmaster’s seat and, without saying a word to anyone else, she left the Great Hall and Hogwarts entirely.

Apparating back to their former hideout to find Ron pacing from wall to wall, he rushed up to her as soon as she entered, but she shook her head sadly and went to her room to sleep.

Though as she lay on the bed, a very familiar voice seemed to whisper right into her ears, even if it was only a whisper, it sounded like a horde of trumpets roaring in her ears.

“Uhh .. where am I?”

2. Part II

Part 2:

Harry Potter awoke feeling utterly drained. He tried to make out his surroundings, but found his vision quite blurry. He attempted to reach out for his glasses – which he usually left on a nearby nightstand – but found his arms not responding. Then he remembered what had happened. Memories of being hit by the killing curse flowed into his mind and the quite eerie feeling of being on death’s bed because of that same curse came back to him.

He dismissed the thoughts from his brain, trying to rise and wipe his eyes clean of slumber, but yet again he found that his body wouldn’t respond.

“Uhh …” he attempted to say out loud, but finding no voice coming from his throat. “Where am I?” A soft gasp of fright made him on edge, he knew that voice. “Hermione?”

A pause, a very, very, long pause. “H-Harry…?” She seemed to whisper but it came quite clear to Harry. “Harry, where are you?”

“I don’t know!” He said defensively, and telling the truth. “That’s what I was asking you!”

Another pause and then Hermione spoke once more, this time in fevered mumbles. “Oh no … no…. This can’t be happening….”

“What can’t be?” Harry asked curiously, but was only answered by a squeak of fright from Hermione. “What, Hermione?!”

“Umm … Harry? I think … I think….” For some reason, Harry could now feel his lips moving and his tongue contracting as if he were talking. It felt very strange to Harry. “I think you’re inside of me.”

Well, he thought wryly, that would explain the contracti- wait … INSIDE OF HER?!

“Yes, Harry….” Well, it seemed as if Hermione could actually read his mind now. “I – I think … when you were hit by the killing curse from V-Voldemort…. You apparated away somewhere. I – I have Scrimgeour looking all over the world for you right now! But – But … it seems you’re right here…. You apparated inside of me….”

Wait … HOLD ON A SECOND! Harry’s mind was in jumbles right now, but for some unknown reason, this all made clear sense to him, though he remembered he was sharing Hermione’s mind and, at the same time, she was piecing things together…. I’ve got a headache…. A really bad headache….

Hermione chuckled and Harry felt one of his hands move up to his head on its own accord. “I know what you’re talking about….” Alright, so she can read my mind…. Well, not really, I’m technically in her mind right now. “You could put it that way, Harry, I guess….” She said, confirming his assumptions.

“This is painfully awkward you know?” Harry said rather bluntly after – what seemed like to him – a long moment of silence. Harry felt his head nod agreeably. And, to his displeasure, that declaration didn’t seem to help at all.

~*~

“Ms. Granger, I have a family you know!” Healer Frocks wasn’t very enthusiastic about checking on Harry and Hermione’s … combined condition. Or so it seemed to them. “Look at them!” He pointed to – what seemed like to the both of them – a beautiful photograph of a seemingly simple family of three. “You-know-who’s finally dead, and … and well, the Minister’s decided to let us all have a break. Merlin knows we all deserve it.” He added, rising from his seat and retrieving his cloak from a nearby coat hanger with a simple wave of his wand.

“Look, Mr. Frocks.” Hermione said urgently as Harry continued to babble in her mind.

Hermione…. HER – MIONE!

The seemingly old – yet experienced – Healer looked up looking mildly interested. “I know the … the … condition is qui – quite…”

“Original?” He supplied wryly. Hermione looked flabbergasted. “You see, one of my close friends happened to be a Death Eater, quite strange I must say, I’m worried that those boys down at the Law Enforcement will charge me for treason. Between you and me, I did tell him about some of the people attending our funerals, so … so I feel responsible for…. For, well…” he stopped, but Hermione couldn’t ignore her, and Harry’s, growing fury inside of them. “And he spoke of the Malfoys quite often you know. All of them were convinced that you and your late friend Mr. Potte-”

“He’s not dead!” Hermione shouted, slamming her fists on the table angrily and rising slightly from her chair. From the look on Frocks’ face, Harry assumed that he was thoroughly frightened. No doubt he could feel the fury imbedded magical waves pulsating from Hermione’s clenched fists. “He’s … in … my freakin’ body, Mr. Frocks.” She said through gritted teeth.

Yet they kept it in check. Merlin knew they needed a Healer right now. “As I was saying,” he continued, attempting to ignore Hermione’s outburst. “The Malfoys firmly believe the both of you are … are stirring up tr-”

“Stirring up trouble?!” Oh no, Harry thought, he’s screwed. “STIRRING UP TROUBLE?!” Now, Harry was starting to enjoy this. Ron knew nothing about shouting until he felt the angry pulses erupt all over Hermione’s body, though … no one else could feel that, really…. Other than the two of th-

“Ms. Gran-”

“NO, NO NO NO! I’m so bloody tired of this, Brocks. You are accusing Harry, who saved the entire world’s arse from the greatest antagonist of all time, of stirring up trouble?! That is … that is …”

Pathetic?

“PATHETIC!” Thank you, Harry, she thought, knowing that he could hear it. “I’ve found the Ministry lacking in the gratefulness department. All his freakin’ life, Harry has been going from one place to another, saving people from death and all – you – can – do is turn him … turn him….”

Err … a walking advertisement?

No … no, Harry that doesn’t work…. “A standing joke? You think it’s funny that he was made famous because his parents were killed and he was branded a bloody HORCRUX?!”

The old healer was beginning to back away slowly. “Ms. Granger…. Please, I – I meant no offe-”

“Oh, oh that is rich!” Hermione began to howl with laugh, sarcasm dripping from every breath that left her mouth. “You’re just glad you don’t have to kiss his shoes because he’s, apparently, dead, when you know I’m telling the bloody truth.

“The bloody truth that he’s right – here!” She pointed at her skull. “And right now, he is droning about Quidditch which, while being an enjoyably competitive sport, is quite boring because I have heard the same conversations relay around my peers a thousand times ov-”

“Alright, Ms. Granger!” He held up his hands in defeat, taking off his cloak. “Alright! You win! I just want to say that I’m hesitant to do this, after all … I can’t ruin my reputation you know?”

Hermione stared at him blankly, as if she couldn’t believe this guy achieved the necessary grades to become a Healer. “You are going to be helping the two most talked about magical folk in the entire world … why, in the name of bloody Merlin, would you lose reputation?!”

Realization dawned upon the Healer as he sucked in her words. Leaning back in his magically enhanced, leather seated, ergonomically correct, swivel chair, the Healer looked at her report that the secretary had her fill out.

Patient(s) names:

Harry James Potter – son of James Marvin Potter and Lily Regina Farina Evans

Hermione Jane Granger – daughter of Daryn Keith Granger and Mia Edlima Huntley

Symptoms:

- Signs of thought communication

- Conversations with “deceased” individuals

- Brain intrusion

- Seemingly harmless brain intrusion

- Lack of energy for both recipients after small amounts of exercise.

It seemed to the Healer that the list kept going, from brain intrusions to thought convulsions. In thirty years of working as a Healer, he had never even heard of thought convulsions, let alone anything like this. Taking a deep sigh, he tossed the paper into the nearby wastebasket, which gobbled it up.

“I – I honestly do not think I am the person suitable for this.” He said sadly as he watched the wastebasket wolf down the insane document. “I don’t think anyone is really, not even the Death Eaters know anyth-” he cleared his throat, suddenly looking away from the wastebasket.

He’s one of em’, I know it. Harry thought firmly, feeling his head nod on its own accord.

We’ll get him once this has all been settled, Harry. She thought with a soothing tone. Just be patient.

“I’d … I’d try….” The Healer said after he thought the uncomfortable silence elapsed. “The Department of Mysteries, no one knows what they do there … but there’s bound to be something similar to your case there!”

“Thank you, Mr. Brocks. Thank you.” Hermione rose from her chair, her anger dismissed entirely as she held out her hand and shook the – what both Harry and Hermione thought – ex-De’s hand.

You know, Hermione. Harry thought as she shut the door behind her and strolled down the white tiled hallways of St.Mungos, I’m really starting to like this.

Yeah, Harry … me too. It’s nice having a half dead lunatic in your head.

HEY!

Just kidding, Harry. Hermione smiled and giggled as she waved to the secretary she had booked the appointment with Brocks with.

All the while, even after a long week of this, Harry could not dismiss the eerie feeling of smiling when he didn’t feel like smiling and … actually … giggling. He was a man! Men don’t giggle.

Of course they don’t, Harry.

Bloody hell…

~*~

Harry had tried not thinking about it, but not having a body to do anything kind of hindered the attempts. The entire experience was quite magical to Harry. Another reason to love magic! But, honestly, he was beginning to grow bored of it. Actually, he was already bored with it! He had been bored of the entire endeavour since he had landed himself inside of her!

Honestly, Hermione wasn’t the problem. She, in Harry’s books, was a pleasant girl, a seeker of knowledge and an admirably loyal companion. But one could only take so much of her! One could only take so much of anyone, really!

Harry longed for the ability to wield his arms once more, to be able to step around the house and place food in his own mouth. He found it quite disturbing every time he ate, seeing as he tasted stuff that he didn’t really like.

Hermione kept with the routines at Hogwarts. For snacks, she produced a load of sugar-free candies which her parents had presented her that Harry found not only as far from scrumptious one could get, but utterly … disgusting. He had hated Hagrid’s rock candies for a reason! And to him, these tasted the same … except they were a lot easier to chew….

Though Harry could only take Hermione for so long, not because of those candies or because she was bothering him … the two of them had great conversations all the time, whether they are dripping with sarcastic, flirtatious, tones or downright furious tones didn’t matter, he had always enjoyed the friendship that he had shared with Hermione.

Many had actually commented on their ability to speak silently, portray their thoughts with merely their eyes while the rest of the company was oblivious to their mute conversation. It was a gift really, between the two of them; that this encounter only magnified.

No, Harry was becoming obsessed with Hermione. That was the problem.

Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, was not good with girls. That was a firm fact. His history with them is outrageous. First was Cho Chang, and that lasted … what? Did it even start really? Then there was Ginny, who Harry had dumped on the pretences that they would get back together … but … due to these … err … circumstances….

And, of course, Hermione had to end any threat of further spouses during their hunting for Horcruxes by just existing; girls didn’t seem to understand the whole “choices” issue which involved Harry picking either the “girlfriend” or Hermione. Now, anyone who knew Harry would know that he would choose Hermione instead.

Now why would he, really? I mean, isn’t she that bratty, annoying, snotty and, of course, know-it-all bitch that Ron and him merely used during their school years for academic purposes? No, in fact, Harry was outraged when the Daily Prophet claimed he had quoted that on the day that he died.

Apparently Mr. Potter, writes Gregory Gory (what a name eh?), was not in the least fond of his, supposed, best friend. New sources have detailed that the Boy-who-lived actually called young, frail, Hermione Granger an obnoxious know-it-all, a title that is usually reserved for the ex-Potions Master and ex-Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Severus Snape, who was unavailable for comment on the subject of this feud between Harry Potter and Hermione Granger that goes on even after death.

“Professor Snape would always taunt her in classes.” Said a timed Neville Longbottom, who was a classmate of the two heroes of the world. “Hermione helped me out a great deal in the class, she helped everyone really… Especially Harry, though he nev – never really noticed….”

So has Harry under appreciated the abilities of Hermione Jane Granger? To everyone, especially viewers of her after-the-defeat speech (as we at the Daily Prophet have deemed it) who have called her “brave” “loyal” “the best friend one can get.” All in all, all of us can be quite glad that the Boy-who-lived is no more, all his life, as Ms. Granger reminded us all, he has lived through tragedy after tragedy and yet, that didn’t stop him from becoming a pompous show-off.

Hermione had thoroughly burnt the paper and unsubscribed to the Daily Prophet with a little note saying “Harry’s not dead, if any of you were even paying the slightest bit of attention to my speech you would have digested that information thoroughly enough so that I wouldn’t have to wake up to this garbage every morning.”

Harry had commented on her bluntness with humour in his tone, but Hermione had merely slammed her mug of coffee quite firmly on the seemingly crude wooden kitchen table to make him shut his trap.

But Harry could not believe people could think of Hermione Granger in this way. He found her presence comforting, while the rest of the world continued to endlessly debate whether he was a fake or not; she firmly believed everything he said. Not counting the Malfoy stuff, that was just a bad year … according to her. She, and Ron of course, had apologized for their outrageous behaviour throughout the year, what, with all the hormones flying in every which direction, striking even the first years quite badly. Harry remembered, with a cringe of course, the crush that … that Romilda Vane had on him. It seemed bad enough that she had it in the first place, but to send caldron cakes laced with love potion was just going beyond any conscious thought.

It seemed Harry was trying rather hard to avoid the topic of Hermione Granger and his … developments concerning her. Even in this retelling, Harry continued to avoid his confession. A procrastinator once, a procrastinator for life!

Harry Potter, as stated before, was becoming obsessed with Hermione Granger. He was beginning to realize how structured and organized her daily routine was when he was apart of it, even if he was half asleep or fully asleep at the time, he could still feel his – or rather: her body – move about the kitchen, preparing some morning tea for the both of them. They listed “extra helpings of food required for full satisfaction” as one of the many symptoms on the document the secretary had presented them at St. Mungos. And it was quite justified, seeing as Hermione was gobbling down heavy loads of food, more so than even Ron would take on because of fear of stomach implosions.

He was also beginning to realize how amazing it felt to be apart of her, to be hear her amazing brain tick. Harry had heard Snape criticize Hermione’s “know-it-all” attitude numerous times in the many classes he had shared with him and had found it quite justified, though he had never told Hermione that.

“I mean,” he said to himself one day whilst Hermione snored contently. “Its one thing memorizing the text and it’s another thing entirely too actually learn something from it right?” Of course he was right! But now that he was hearing the ticks, whistles and bells of Hermione’s brain working all the hours of the day, he could believe the intelligence of his best friend.

No, no, blackcurrant isn’t suitable in the morning….

They got it wrong! It was a growth spur charm that the Weasleys’ used in their Ton-Tongue Toffees! It was an engorgement charm!

Clearly the PERUvian Vipertooth is native to bloody Australia…

Honestly, it clearly states in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them that Hippogriefs are NOT dangerous UNLESS they are untamed and wild!

How sad Mr. Thruston would be if he read this… Apparently he died last year of over exposure to the music he plays and the … deals he provokes. He actually lives in an apartment in London along with the rest of his band.

Why in the name of Merlin himself would clocks be healthy for your immune system?!

VerITAserum! Not Vertaserum you bloody morons!

NO! There is NO WAY what-so-ever a metamorphagus can be made in a bloody lab! Just ask Tonks!

Even I know there’s only two bludgers in a Quidditch game even when Quidditch was being developed and they were using rocks and lead as the bludgers there were still only two on the field at once!

Wow, I thought the bluebottle upgraded to a thief-countermeasure system a long time ago! I guess they only just got news of this today, eh?

Now why would Hitler have any involvement with World War One? Actually … he did if I recall, though he was merely a solider in the German army, an exceptional one if I recall.

And this is just a sample of what his brain was filled with every day. Maybe killing Voldemort was a good thing, it made the world a better place to live in, no more threats of seeing the Dark Mark lurking above your house after you come back from a party or something, it made Harry realize that he had missed a lot about Hermione Granger; a bit too much if you ask him.

But really, must he suffer with this all the time? It was slowly driving him mad…. Though now Harry had a new admiration for her, not only had she thought up stuff like that all the time, disproving people wrong, bringing new facts to people, but she had to put up with Ron’s stubborn and frail attitude, with Harry’s every day conflicts involving the Dark Lord, taking care of Crookshanks, homework and looking out for herself. Harry knew that she could hold her own in any fight (though the memory of her being hit by that still unfamiliar purple cloud curse sent by Dolohov still haunted Harry).

Harry couldn’t understand how Hermione could deal with all of this and not turn out … neurotic. Totally … neurotic….

He sighed in discontent as he tried to roll over, but remembered it was Hermione’s body… How he wished for control…. How he longed to move his feet.

And then it happened.

First of all, the eyes opened, while was odd because Harry could still hear Hermione’s soft, yet oddly pleasant, snores, then he felt tingles in his little fingers. He lifted them up and stared at them, suddenly aware of the control he possessed.

“I’m free…” he said, but it came out in Hermione’s … feminine voice. All in all, it sound downright crazy to Harry as he attempted to rise from the bed, trying to not to awaken Hermione by any sudden movements. When he could hear her soft snores even after the squeaking of the springy mattress that was her bed had subsided, he knew the coast was clear.

“Time … to go for a run!”

3. Part III

Part III:

Hermione awoke with the strangest feeling in the world. Her parents had told her on numerous occasions that sleeping was meant to relax your entire body. Since every human uses an excruciating amount of energy during the day, sleep was used to recharge that energy.

Though this was proven wrong when Hermione got out of bed with sores all over her body; her leg muscles were burning with numbness and her head felt like someone just whipped a frying pan at it.

More like five dozen pans! She thought angrily to herself, forgetting for that moment that Harry was still there. When she heard a distinctly male groan in her ears, she knew her best friend had awoken.

“Had a nice nap?” It was nice being able to talk out loud to Harry now seeing as Ron had moved out on the grounds that he wanted to keep his sanity in check. Hermione was actually beginning to worry about her own, though the pain in her thighs could only point to one thing….

Harry’s voice held guilt within it. “I guess….” Even though he only spoke two words, Hermione could feel the hesitant atmosphere.

“I didn’t think you could actually take over my body.” I said idly as I changed. Of course, the first day was complicated while I was changing though Harry said as long as I didn’t look down, we were fine. Now I don’t care what Harry sees out of my eyes, it seemed as though I was beginning to get comfortable with this extra … presence in my mind.

“Neither did I,” Harry said, glad for the fact that Hermione wasn’t yelling at him, though he could undoubtedly hear the angered thoughts in my head. “I – I just wanted to have some control, you know? It’s not like I mind being in here and al-”

“Harry,” Hermione said cutting him off with the suppleness of her tone. “You’re starting to sound like me, rambling on and on about nothing.”

There was a pause before I begun to hear the distinct chuckle of Harry in my mind once more. “Well, I am in your body; it’s to be expected right?”

Hermione chuckled in response to that and quickly left her room to prepare breakfast for the two of them.

Now was a time that she missed Ron, seeing as he had inherited his mum’s skill in the kitchen, but it seemed as though Harry wasn’t half bad at it either and once he had … entered her mind, Hermione found she had progressed immensely in the necessary skills. She wasn’t as clumsy with the tools and she knew what all the dials, whistles, bells and all the other paraphernalia meant.

So maybe having Harry in her mind wasn’t such a bad thing. Hopefully he would avoid midnight runs though… In her body. In fact, Hermione decided it was time to scold him for that.

“Next time you do something like that, Harry.” She said randomly during their breakfast with a few loose bits of toast spewing out of her mouth (it seemed she had inherited some male qualities as well) “Make sure to inform me before you do something like that.”

Harry was immediately defensive, of course. “It – it just happened Hermione! I just wanted it to ha-”

“Spare me the details, Harry.” She quickly intervened. “Just, please, tell me?”

Harry sighed deeply. “Alright,” then he added. “I’m sorry.”

Always the compassionate one isn’t he?

~*~

When the day of our meeting with the dreaded Department of Mysteries rolled by, Harry was – to say the least – hesitant to go.

“They’ll … they’ll put plugs in your ears, Hermione!” He positively screamed loud enough that Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, actually hissed and jumped off the nearby table she had curled up on. “Y – yeah! Y … you remember that brain room, right! THAT’S what they do to people like us! People like me who apparate into other people!”

Hermione shook her head sadly as she reached for her cloak. “You’re being silly, Harry. Honestly, they’re not bloody Nazis, Harry.”

It was sad to think that only people with a Muggle upbringing would understand the reference in that. “I’m not saying that they are! Few people are!” As Hermione reached for the door knob, Harry took one last stab and relished the moment, seeing as it worked.

“HARRY JAMES POTTER, YOU LET ME BACK INTO MY OWN BODY THIS INSTANT!” Harry had taken control and was whistling idly as he took off his cloak and placed it back on its hook with an air of victory prominent in his fingertips. “HARRY, I’m WARNING YOU!”

“Oh, do you think you can match up to the seven year Seeker veteran?” Harry taunted her, finding it oddly weird to hear his own voice for once. Though Harry was taken aback as he was shoved into the wall next to him. Bracing himself, Harry was caught off-guard once more when he was thrown to the other wall, slamming his head into the dry wall.

“Merlin, Hermione…” He moaned as he rose from the ground, rubbing his forehead where he could feel a distinct bump protruding from the very spot. “This is your body, you know?”

“But you’re in it, Harry!” She reminded him and, with a sigh, Harry gave her control once more, knowing she could come up with something even more devious than that last wall-smacking.

Once Hermione took over, not a second had passed before she stumbled and had to brace herself against the wall nearest to her. “Ow… You’re right….” Hermione moaned painfully as she grabbed at the bump, attempting to nurse it with her hands. It didn’t help that she didn’t know any practical medi-spells right now without one of her trusty textbooks.

“See?” Harry said; glad to be the one smiting rather than the one receiving. “Just be glad that you can function properly!”

“Oh shut it, Harry.” Hermione gathered her wits and held out both her arms in front of her, attempting to balance herself. She continued to sway and her head relentlessly throbbed more painfully than even when Harry was shouting his head off. “We’re … we’re going to the Department of Mysteries…. I can’t stand this anymore!”

“W – wait, Hermione! We just go into th-” but he was cut off by, one more, Hermione.

“No, Harry…. My head hurts….” Honestly, she couldn’t think of why that was a clear reason to wanting Harry out. Maybe it had to do wi….

“Hermione! I….” He said, interrupting her thoughts.

She expected him to go on, but there was just silence in Godric’s Hollow.

When he spoke once more, it was in a tone she was unused to; the one that was specifically used to refer to himself as a Horcrux. “I have a theory. I … I think, I’m dead.”

“What?” Hermione blurted out. “But you’re….”

Harry’s tone was still the same dead one. “I’m only alive because I’m inside of you right now…. I was hit by the killing curse, remember?”

Hermione’s head begun to spin once more, whistles, bells and alarms started going off inside of her head. Could she have been wrong?

It was something so simple, when the killing curse hits you, you die. She had taken simple to the next level with the Hovers’ experiments and she thought she had something there. And when Harry appeared in her mind it seemed like her theory was affirmed, but Harry continued to point out the simple truth.

“But … but the prophecy’s been fulfilled right?” Hermione said, not liking her dead tone that seemed to match Harry’s vocal dynamics. “Neither can live while the other survives, right?”

Hermione could feel Harry shaking her head right now. “Well, you’re kind of right, but you’re forgetting the first part. Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. You killed him, Hermione.”

Hermione’s voice squeaked. She may have sealed Harry’s fate right there and then. “What … what does this mean?”

“You could only kill him, because I was already dead….”

That thought stayed with her for the long moments she merely stood in the living room of Godric’s Hollow, her expression and thoughts as hollow as the house’s name.

“Hermione, if … if the Mystery dudes do separate us….” Hermione was brilliant enough to piece together the truth even before Harry said this.

“Oh, Harry….” She mumbled, collapsing onto the floor. “I – I don’t know what to do….”

Harry said nothing for a moment, but then he did the unthinkable. “Go ahead…. We’ve got a meeting and I think we’re way behind schedule right now.”

“WHAT?” Hermione rose from the floor, knocking her head against a nearby doorknob which caused her head to spin once more. “Oh … I need….”

“A vacation?” Harry supplied wryly.

“Yes, Harry…. We can go to … go to the Caribbean! I’ve always wanted to go there! Tropical places are so attractive at tim-”

“Hermione,” Harry said simply, bringing her back down to reality. The reality that Harry wouldn’t be able to go with her.

Her dream of the Caribbean beaches with Harry and Hermione sun tanning vanished only to be replaced with a blurry vision of Godric Hollow’s living room. It was only then that Hermione realized she was crying and because of the sadness welling up inside of her, she collapsed onto the floor once more, missing the doorknob she hit on her way up.

“Oh, Hermione…. Its okay, I knew I was going to die fighting Voldemort.” While his efforts were acknowledged, Hermione’s wails only increased in volume. She couldn’t believe that she would never ever see the tousled raven hair she had grown to love, the sparkling emerald eyes that always shone brightest whenever something magically astonishing whisked by and she would sorely miss his heroic statute, the fact that he would never be there to save her life scared her.

She was afraid of losing him, her salvation in the real world; she admitted it finally.

“I … I need you, Harry.” She whispered, but she knew Harry heard it clearly enough.

“I know, and I need you too, Hermione.” His tone was gentle, how she would have loved to curl up in his arms right now. “Just do one more thing for me and let me go. Voldemort was right, I’ll be able to see my parents again and Sirius…. And everyone who died in the war.”

Hermione cringed, wrapping her arms around herself, imaging that it was him she was clinging to.

“I’ve accepted my fate; I’ll wait for you to accept yours….”

~*~

The eerie feeling of the Department of Mysteries made Hermione even more hesitant in entering. It seemed so surreal that she was now the one fussing about the – as Harry deemed them – Mystery dudes seeing as he had probably forgotten they were called Unspeakables and when she woke up this morning she had every intention on going to them today and riding herself of this burden the two of them shared.

“Ms. Granger?” A quiet voice said from behind her. Turning around abruptly, she found herself facing the one and only Luna Lovegood.

“L – Luna?” Hermione said astonished. “Wh – what are you doing here?”

“I work here, Ms. Granger.” She said promptly. “If you would follow me, I’ve been looking over your file.” And Hermione thought her situation was surreal, this topped it completely. Here was Luna talking coherently and utterly professional. Ahh, the live of an Unspeakable.

“Ms. Granger, please come, I’m afraid we’re incredibly behind schedule.” Luna said, prompting Hermione to chase after her.

Hermione found that she could not soak in her surroundings, though she doubted anyone really could besides the Unspeakables. The architects were weird like that, making the design dreamlike enough to make sane people go crazy down here.

No wonder the Unspeakables are the way they are. She thought to herself as she followed the long blonde haired girl in front of her. I mean, they turned a flawlessly insane person into a living sane girl who works quite diligently it seems, who says they can’t do the opposite?

“You’re probably right,” Harry said. Speaking up for the first time since they entered the Ministry of Magic.

“I’ve never actually heard of anything like your case, Ms. Granger. Or should I say Ms. Grator?”

Hermione thought she heard something quite stupid come out of the person she just called a diligent worker. “Um … pardon me?”

Luna smiled as she placed herself gingerly upon her comfortable looking swivel leather chair. She indicated with an extended hand at the chair across from her, Hermione promptly seated herself in it. “It was just my attempt at humour.”

“Oh….” Hermione said, not knowing what else to do. She felt no impulse to burst out laughing at the sad attempt really.

“Anyway,” Luna said, pulling out a simple looking folder from one of her drawers, she laid it out in front of Hermione who peered at it, expecting to see the word SCREWED itched in red across the parchment. “I’ve got quite a few people working on this and they are quite interested in a few things.”

“Would one of them happen to be getting Harry out of here-” she pointed at her forehead “-and into his own body, alive and well?” She distinctly heard Harry’s snort, but chose to ignore it entirely.

“Of course, but we all imagine such a thing occurring is quite….” For a moment, Luna looked distraught over the entire issue, but the emotional face was replaced by the brick wall Hermione was beginning to loathe in no time at all. “Impossible, theoretically of course.”

Hermione nodded in understanding, they probably agreed with Harry’s theory too.

“We believe that he is actually … dead, but is naturally feeding off of your … your body.” Oh, Hermione never heard that come from Harry’s mouth! She promptly decided to speak about it with Harry after the meeting was over.

“I don’t think I’ll be here after this meeting….” Harry said sorrowfully, causing Hermione to fidget in her, now quite uncomfortable, chair.

“So, it’s up to you to decide Hermione. After all, it is your body. Will you let Harry go now, and live on with your life, or will you stick with him until the end, only when you die of a natural cold because your immune system is too bus-”

“Stop it, Luna!” Hermione said abruptly, rising from her chair and shutting her eyes tightly. She pressed her hands against her head. “I – I can’t do this right now!”

“But, He-”

“No! Do you have ANY idea of what you’re asking me to do?!” Luna shrugged her shoulders slightly. “Well, I’ll tell you then!”

Hermione leaned forward until her face was mere inches from Luna’s blank expression. “I happen to care about Harry a lot. A LOT, I swear to Merlin that if this all hadn’t happened I would be married to him by now, but of course, Harry has to make things difficult and … and….” Hermione shut her eyes once more and stepped back from Luna. “I … I love him.”

“Hermione….” Luna’s voice sounded weird…. As if it were both her’s and… oh shi….

“HARRY!” Hermione’s back cracked as she straightened herself up, realizing she had indeed said all of this in front of him.

“Oh, Hermione….” Harry said his tone oddly soothing. “I’m so sorry…. I’ve only come to realize that I … I….”

“Harry….” Hermione breathed, her heart hammering inside of her.

“I love you too, Hermione Jane Granger.” With that said, Hermione promptly fainted.

~*~

“You … you think you have an idea?” Hermione’s head was still spinning, but maybe that was because she was sitting down. She attempted to raise a hand to her forehead, but found it wouldn’t move.

“Oh no…. He’s in control….” Hermione said, finding her lips not moving at all. It felt oddly … eerie, to say the least.

“Hermione, you okay?” Harry’s voice in her mind sounded both emotional and soothing.

“Yeah… I think.” Hermione rapidly answered, not wanting him to worry about her condition.

It was Luna who spoke up this time. “Yes, in fact I do. One that can separate you into your own body, but I need to know one thing first.”

Hermione’s ears perked up, she and Harry were both listening intently.

“You apparated into Hermione, correct?” Hermione felt her head nod in confirmation. “Good. That means we can solve this here and now.”

“What?” I said, forgetting that I wasn’t in control of my body.

“Harry Potter,” Luna said, rising from her seat and stepping away from the both of them. “Why don’t you simply … apparate out of her?”

“Holy fuck….” Hermione had never used the dreaded F word before, but there was no other word in the English language that could be used in this situation as properly as fuck. “We’re stupid, Harry. We’re so fucking stupid….”

“No way, Luna!” Harry said as soon as I finished with my scolding-myself speech. “It … it can’t be that simple!”

“Why not?” Luna said cocking her head to the side so it partly touched her shoulder. “You apparated into her, why can’t you apparate out of her?”

And Harry proved it to be correct when he appeared right at Hermione’s side to catch her as she fell to the ground in an obvious fainting gesture.

~*~

“Evelyn, get over here right now!” Evelyn walked into the small kitchen with guilt written all over her face. Looking up at her parents, she knew they had figured out her scheme. She had taken so long to plan it; she had even got Dobby into her plan! She glared at him while he busied himself with sweeping up the floor, looking anywhere but at her. “Dobby has an interesting story to tell, you know.”

Evelyn Potter said nothing, but she merely continued to stare at the tiled floor wondering how that distinct brown stain appeared there. Maybe Crookshanks did something disgus-

“Eve, look up at me.” The calm and gentle tone of her father caused her to look up, only to see him kneeling in front of her, running an hand through her short black hair, finding quite ruffled. “How many did you take?” He asked in the same, calm, tone.

The single child of Harry and Hermione Potter fumbled over how many, she tried to recall just how many cookies she had reached while Dooby held her up high enough with his magic. She had dipped her hand in three times, taking out three each time. Or maybe four…. What was a good number?

“Ten?” She said tentatively making her dad smile.

“You’re lying.” He said simply and Evelyn wondered how he was able to do that just by looking at her. Was it a parent thing?

“Dobby said she had taken four out each time she put her hand in the jar.” Hermione said, coming to kneel before Evelyn too.

Harry shook his head in astonishment. “Those are nice hands, Eve. Quite good for gripping a Quaffle, wouldn’t you say?”

“Harry…. Now’s not the time!” Hermione huffed, but stopped when Harry gave her a quick smirk and a kiss on one of her cheeks. “Oh, fine … You win this time, Harry. But I’ll have my way with her! You’re tainting her!”

“No, Hermione.” Harry said with a wide smirk as he took his adorable daughter’s small hand and begun to lead her to the backyard, planning on teaching her the great game of Quidditch. “I’m saving you, Hermione.”

“Saving me?!” Hermione positively shouted as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Yes, love, saving the right of being someone as brilliant as you,” He stated simply. “Only you have that right in this world!”

Hermione fumbled over her response, usually she was so good with arguing with him, but he had never taken this tactic before. He had never complimented her like this while feigning innocence. When she couldn’t formulate anything, Harry smirked once more and then was gone with Evelyn in tow.

Hermione wistfully stared after them, watching her loving husband show the many balls to his daughter who was positively glued to the concept of Quidditch already. And then she realized just what Harry said.

“He thinks I’m brilliant? What have I … oh, yeah….” Hermione sighed, remembering the events of Voldemort’s death. “What a fine duet we made, playing in the same body…. Though he just realized how brilliant I was in that time frame….”

It was then, that Hermione decided to join her family, her amazingly wonderful family and decided to tell Harry that night that she wanted to extend the family once more.

Author’s Note:

There you have it; I thought the final part with Evelyn would just be something cute to add in. Hope you liked it! I don’t think there’s any way I can write a sequel to this unless it’s happening to Evelyn and someone else, but if there are enough reviews…. ;)

Thanks for reading! And PLEASE review! I love it when you guys do that!