I Don't Like Spiders and Snakes by HandofFate

Rating: R
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 11/07/2006
Last Updated: 02/12/2006
Status: In Progress

The war is over. The devastation is complete. Ron is a shell of a human being and Hagrid has
passed away. But Hagrid asked Harry to do him a favor. He wants him to take over his duties as if
he handed them to Harry as his son. What ensues is nothing short of catastrophe after another.
Hermione helping Nurse Pomfrey now in the Hospital Wing agrees to move into the hut to help Harry
if he puts in an upstairs to accomodate them as roommates. Together they recapture the spirit of
Hagrid and rebuild their shattered lives with the love they'd never acknowledged




1. Last Will and Testament
--------------------------



Last Will and Testament—Prologue

The jubilant mood around Hogwarts was dampened for all but a few. For those few, there was no
jubilant mood to be dampened. Nearly every wizard family in England had suffered losses during what
would become known as the Great War in the History of Magic classes. The unrelenting battles had
managed to stay out of the muggle press, but had nearly destroyed everything magical outside of
Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. But it was over and most people could look forward to building again.

The few that were devastated were the friends of Rubeus Hagrid the beloved and highly
misunderstood game and groundskeeper at Hogwarts. Those few were now actually only two, Harry
Potter and Hermione Granger. Hagrid still lay in his massive bed in the hut he had called home for
so many years. In Harry Potter's third year, Hagrid had been named the Care of Magical
Creatures teacher and took the job to new heights of excitement and fear for the students of
Hogwarts. He liked every living creature that wasn't a Death Eater or a Slytherin. In fact, he
loved those creatures if they had fangs or a stinger.

Hagrid had been the very first magical person Harry Potter had the occasion to meet. He had
appeared to him on an island in the middle of nowhere to fulfill his obligation to bring Harry to
Hogwarts. Harry had taken to Hagrid immediately when he'd given his evil Aunt, Uncle and cousin
their comeuppance on his eleventh birthday. Since that day, Harry had felt an affinity for Hagrid
that continued to this day.

It was springtime nearing the end of Harry's final year at Hogwarts. There would be no final
exams this year as there were funerals to attend for almost every student. Many of them were held
right on the grounds of Hogwarts where a special resting place had been built near the grave of
Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore, besides Harry, was the greatest symbol of the Great War.

Harry was sadder than he'd ever remembered that Saturday afternoon. It was possible that he
would lose two more of his wonderful friends to injuries sustained in fighting for the life of the
magical world that had become his home. Harry sat bandaged and unable to stand with his friend
Hermione Granger at the foot of Ron Weasley's bed as Nurse Pomfrey comforted Ron.

Harry's heart ached at the sight of his friend. He'd seen so much devastation and
bloodshed that he wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. His arm and left leg had been crushed in
the collapse of a wall in the final battle. It was nearly impossible to kill a wizard in a common
accident or fall, but often grievous injury left wounds for years to come. Ron would not die from
his wounds. But his mind was ebbing away slowly as the days passed. He was barely able to recognize
Hermione the love of his short fully-functioning life. He hadn't been able to recognize Harry
for two days now. The power of love between the three of them had kept Ron with them a fair bit
longer than anyone could have hoped. Harry didn't know how he'd make it through the day. He
knew this was it. The last time he would see his friend smile at Hermione.

“Ron, we love you. Harry's here. Remember? He's my friend who brings you the candy,”
said Hermione.

“Oh, hi, Barry. Barry Carter, right?” he said. “I'm sorry. Were you talking to me,
Helen?”

Harry hung his head. That's the way it had started when he had awakened from the
potion-induced coma they had used to soothe his mind from the Cruciatus Curse. They'd thought
that he was going to be a similar miracle to Harry. Harry had survived the Killing Curse as a baby.
No one had ever done that. Ron had survived for the longest they'd ever seen anyone live under
the Cruciatus Curse. Many brave and good wizards had lost their minds instantly to that curse, but
Ron had fought. For a week after awakening he seemed to be fine, but now he would probably not
respond to his own name by the end of the day. The dementia from the psychological damage was
progressing too fast to stop.

“You're very pretty, Helen. Do we know each other?” Ron asked. “Would you go out with me
sometime? Helen, is it?”

“Hermione, come please. It's killing me to see him and you like this,” said Harry. He took
her hand as she kissed her fingers and touched Ron's forehead. “It's not him anymore,
Hermione.”

Snape was dead. Malfoy was dead. Voldemort as Tom Riddle breathed soullessly at the far end of
the room. There was no one for Harry to kill as revenge for his friend. Harry had not killed, but
his heart was filled with rage that he would never celebrate this victory with his best mate, his
surrogate brother Ron.

“Harry, I don't know if I can go see Hagrid. I hear it's terrible,” said Hermione. She
had cried for the last two days for Harry's loss. He knew that she could see how it would
devastate him and rather than feel the pain for herself, she felt it for Harry.

Harry hadn't seen Hagrid, but he'd fought alongside his half-brother Grawp in the war.
They had teamed with a group of half-giant humans to rid the giant population of those poisoning it
with racial violence against humans. No one would say what had happened to Hagrid except that he
now lay in his bed covered to the neck with one eye patched.

Grawp stood watch over the hut as his brother lay dying. Harry saw the huge tears forming in
Grawp's eyes as Hermione pushed Harry done the hill toward the hut in his wheelchair. “Harry
come save Hagrid?” asked Grawp.

Harry hated the fact that it took Grawp days and weeks still to understand things. The horrible
truth would take a long time to sink in. The legend of Harry Potter was forming because of the
chaos and desire of people to have someone to believe saved them from themselves. He was becoming
the greatest mystic of their time. According to legend he'd saved Lord Voldemort and returned
him to a life as Tom Riddle. He had resurrected his friends in the collapse of the Ministry. And,
he'd managed to kill a hundred Death Eaters in the process. The only truth was that he had torn
the portion of Tom's soul out of his scar and returned it to Lord Voldemort destroying the evil
that had pervaded all living magical things for the past sixteen years. In the process, Lord
Voldemort had managed to call a dementor to destroy Tom. Harry had been lying under the rubble
unable to call his patronus to save Tom.

The many people who had been trapped said that Harry, grievously injured as he was, had saved
them as well. Harry knew that he'd done an incredible deed in destroying the evil that was Lord
Voldemort, but the rest was rubbish. It had taken every able-bodied wizard with the strength left
to fight that day to do everything from keep the destruction of a muggle city block quiet and save
those lives. He hadn't been responsible for one-tenth of what he'd been credited with. Yet
here he was, the supposed savior for his friend Hagrid and the magical world.

“Grawp, I'm not sure I can help Hagrid,” said Harry.

A strained voice came from inside. “Grawpy, my boy, I told you that Harry would do his best. But
if it's me time ter go, it's me time ter go. Don't make Harry feel worse.”

Harry and Hermione spent the afternoon with Hagrid. It was clear that he would either die or
need to be moved to St. Mungo's soon. Either way, Hagrid was going to be a mere shadow of the
man he'd been before.

“Harry, I have to ask yer to do me a favor. It's not going to be easy. But I know yer can do
it, but if yer think it's too much I understand. Mrs. Grubblyplank will be taking over me
classes and me duties when I'm gone, but she's planning on retiring in three years. I was
wonderin' if you'd consider taking the job when she leaves?” he asked.

Harry looked at Hermione like he'd just been stunned by a rogue Bludger, “Hagrid, why
me?”

“Well, Grawp loves ya Harry. Even if the infections and things clear up, I'm never gonna be
able ter take care of him or all me pets. Yer could start learning from Mrs. Grubblyplank now and
be ready for it when she leaves. I heard this did in yer ideas fer being an Auror,” said
Hagrid.

“No, I'm not going to be an Auror, Hagrid. At least not for a very long time anyway,” said
Harry wincing with pain from his left leg. “But I don't know about Care of Magical Creatures?”
He looked at Hermione making a face.

“I know Harry, but I really appreciate it if you'd lie to me now and say yer'd do it.
Yer kind of like me son, you know. I never said that ter ya before, but it's true,” said Hagrid
with a tear in his unpatched eye.

“I'll do my best Hagrid,” said Harry hoping that he was up to it. He knew that even if he
had to stop doing it, he owed it to Hagrid to give it a try. “I can't promise I'll last
long, but I'll try.”

“Harry, that's all I can ask. I'm not gonna die terday. Those rumors are false, but I
will be leaving here soon ter get treatment. Grawpy can't come. So I need someone to help me
with that,” said Hagrid.

Harry had heard the horrible rumors that Hagrid was dying. But it seemed that Harry's
promise might give him the will to live. “Can I send you owls and ask your advice?” asked
Harry.

“Well, you sure can. And, you'll have help with Mrs. Grubblyplank fer quite sometime. I jist
don't think I'm gonna ever be able ter do it me self. I may not have any arms anymore
Harry. And, it's possible that I'll only have one leg. And, I'm sure yer can think of a
lot a jokes about a one-eyed, one-legged, no armed half-giant takin' care of blast-ended
skrewts,” said Hagrid trying to laugh.

Nurse Pomfrey came through the door with six large men who seemed to be there to help move
Hagrid. They were going to put him on a board that they would then move by magic. Harry didn't
know what they would do from there, but he knew that he and Hermione were at their wits end. The
emotional rollercoaster was about to crash if they had to deal with one more thing today.

“Hagrid, we have to leave. Keep in touch. Will you?” asked Harry.

“Sure enough, Harry.” Hagrid groaned as they moved him.

Something in Harry said that Hagrid had lied. He felt sure that his dear friend had not wanted
him or Hermione to walk away sad today. Harry smiled inside knowing that there were enough days to
be sad and today, he had to give Hagrid the satisfaction of thinking he'd succeeded. “Hagrid,
old buddy, you take care of yourself. I'll go find you a monocle for your good eye,” joked
Harry.

Hagrid laughed and coughed. “Thas' a good one `arry. You know yer a good man fer doin'
this fer me….”

Harry could see it coming. And he let it come naturally.

“I love you too, Hagrid, you old pain in the you-know-what,” said Harry. He knew Hagrid wanted
to go out with the joy of laughter and jokes in his ears.

Hermione's eyes glistened as Harry turned to her with tears running down his face.

“See ya `arry,” said the gruff old voice.

“Yeah, see ya,” said Harry. “On the other side my friend.” He whispered to himself.

Harry knew they were probably taking him up to the castle to care for him in his last hours. It
was closer from there to bury him too. Hermione pushed him with tears in her eyes as he sobbed like
a baby at the loss of the world's gentlest giant.

-->



2. Harry's Plea
---------------



Harry's Plea—Chapter 2

Harry winced in pain as Hermione applied the salve to Harry's burnt fingers. A second later
he joined her in laughter.

“How can you always laugh at my pain, Hermione?” he asked.

“I'd apologize, but as graceful as you are on a broom, you're like Neville or Tonks with
those creatures,” she giggled. “You don't hand feed the skrewts when they get that big,
Harry.”

“I keep forgetting that Grawp can do it `cause they're scared of him,” he smiled.

Hermione and Harry got together at least twice a week these days and sometimes every day there
in the Hospital Wing. Rarely was it a social call though. Harry came in with a burn, a bite or a
laceration often enough for him to have had the fireplace in the hut and the one in the waiting
room there connected so he could get back and forth to work from the Hospital Wing.

“Is Viktor coming for your birthday, Hermione?” asked Harry as she applied the salve to the next
finger.

“I don't think so, Harry. His Quidditch team has finished all the matches in England and
Ireland until the beginning of next year,” said Hermione. “It is fun to see him when he comes here
though.”

“I'll bet it is `Hermy-own-ninny',” said Harry with a smile. “I like him. He's
actually kind of good with Grawp.”

“Yeah, Viktor's okay. I get tired of him asking me to marry him every time he comes though,”
complained Hermione.

Harry just smiled. He and Hermione had settled into their friendship better in the last two
years. They got together like this often and met in Hogsmeade for drinks a couple times a month.
They'd often meet the new person in each other's lives there or laugh about the last one
that didn't work out.

“So, if Viktor's not coming and you just kicked Oliver to the curb,” he began. “Who's
going to escort the gorgeous Hermione Granger to her birthday party tomorrow?” He loved teasing her
about being the most eligible witch in England and easily one of the most beautiful.

He watched her face screw up in irritation at his teasing. She made fun of him being the
clumsiest Care of Magical Creatures teacher ever and hated when he took the Mickey out of her for
having more suitors than there were kinds of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Lately though
it wasn't as funny because he'd been seeing the Creevey's little sister Dianna.

“I was going to ask you to take me, Harry, but I think Dianna would hurt you worse than the
monsters you baby sit if she got wind that there were any possible way you were on a date with
someone else,” teased Hermione. “God forbid that there might be a red smudge on your cheek from an
innocent kiss.” She giggled.

Hermione would be twenty-one tomorrow. It seemed impossible that they'd remained friends
through all the anguish they'd been through. Hermione had left Hogwarts for over a year before
she returned to help Nurse Pomfrey. Harry had suffered greatly as his leg and arm slowly got
better. He was so glad when he'd seen her running down from the castle the day she arrived for
work. He'd thought she'd forgotten him.

“Do you remember the day you came back here Hermione?” he asked.

“I sure do. I thought the smiles on our faces were going to require surgery to correct,” said
Hermione.

Hermione had decided to go back to the muggle world after the sadness that had befallen
everyone. Her father got her a job working in a plastic surgeon's office while they worked out
the details to convert her academic history at Hogwarts into something acceptable in the muggle
world. She'd decided to become doctor. The problem was there was too much blood in the muggle
world for Hermione. The violence there was in the news every day. She realized after that year that
treating people afflicted with the bat-bogey hex or the jelly-legs curse was preferable to knife
wounds or the horrific damage done by gunshot wounds. She'd only had to help the doctor once
with someone whose face had been discolored by scars from an explosion to realize it wasn't for
her.

“I know, but what I couldn't believe was how tall you seemed and well, how gorgeous
you'd become,” he said shyly. “I didn't even recognize you at first.”

“Yeah, I must have laughed for ten minutes when I told you that shrinking charm you'd tried
on Grawp while you were wrestling with him had backfired. You couldn't tell because Grawp was
so huge to begin with,” said Hermione. Harry laughed.

“Never you mind about Dianna, she's gone with Colin to Dublin for the week. He has a photo
shoot for the next Quidditch World Cup,” said Harry.

Dianna Creevey was just eighteen. He had only met her a few weeks before when Colin brought her
to the sorting ceremony. The year after Harry left, the school decided that they should start
making yearbooks for students. The loss of so many had inspired a new wave of appreciation among
people in the wizard world. The lament was that they'd lost so many without preserving their
memory.

But Harry had thought Colin had brought a new girlfriend only later found out that all these
years he'd had a squib sister attending an all-girls' school in London. She was pretty and
loving. Harry called it loving in public, but the truth was that the description was more on the
order of randy or insatiable. If there was one thing Harry had learned since leaving school though
it was if a pretty girl was going to throw herself at you, it was often easier to satisfy certain
urges with her than it was to look for real love. There was less remorse in breaking it off
later.

“So, does she spend the night with you in the hut, Harry?” asked Hermione. “Rumor has it that
you guys sort of get the animals howling out there quite often.”

He hated it when they started picking on each other in a tone of sexual innuendo. It made him
nervous to think of Hermione with someone. He often wondered if there was a direct correlation to
the end of his relationships and the guilt she inspired in him by thinking how easy he was to
seduce and how much he wanted Hermione to act like a muggle nun.

They weren't involved romantically and that's what bothered him. Why should he care?

“Those are all lies, Hermione,” he admitted. “We might get to snogging heavy but the rest of
it's a load of rubbish.” Harry had not allowed things to go too far with Dianna yet because
Colin had a habit of popping up when his sister was alone with Harry. It wasn't that he'd
all of a sudden taken a vow of celibacy. He was glad for it too, because if he'd been lying
Hermione could tell. They both could tell when the other was covering their tracks. But he'd
never ask her directly about her love life. Some things he was just better off not knowing.

“So, do you want to go with me then?” asked Hermione. “The last one was a scream. Yours was fun
this summer too.” Birthday parties had become all the rage for the Hogwarts staff the past couple
years. The older teachers had all taken on mentoring former students to prepare for the future and
that meant a lot of young people to party on weekends in Hogsmeade. Birthdays were just another
reason for a party.

“You'd better say yes, Harry,” said a man's voice from the other end of the ward. “Or,
you'll force me to take her.”

It was Neville. He'd stayed on for Herbology and brought new plants to the ward every few
days. Harry wondered how the three of them could be at Hogwarts and see each other only ten minutes
a day once or twice a week. But that was the way life was as you got older he thought. “Oh, now you
know you're lying Neville. Ginny would string you up by your lotus blossom if you looked at
Hermione the wrong way,” said Harry.

Neville turned red knowing Harry was right. Ginny and Neville were the only ones who had
maintained any kind of credible relationship among the people Harry had known in school. Neville
was quick to swoop in when Harry and Ginny parted ways three years ago. “Yeah, well…”

Hermione laughed--because in typical Neville style, he was at a loss for a comeback when anyone
took the Mickey out of him. Neville was funny when you could see the wheels turning and nothing
escaping his lips. “Yeah, well at least we're not screwing everyone we meet until the one we
really want gets jealous enough to stop us. Heh, hmm.”

Harry and Hermione stopped laughing and didn't look at each other but stared at Neville.
Somehow they knew that response was a planted one. And, they knew who'd done too. Ginny was
notorious for spreading rumors that Harry and Hermione snuck away for trysts in London. The problem
for them was they each knew there was a little tension there that made Ginny's claims
believable around the Hogwarts campus. “Neville, nice try. But tell Ginny she's wrong…again,”
said Harry.

“Yeah, tell her she's barking mad. Harry is like my brother and that's it,” said
Hermione.

“Yeah, if that's the case then you two are sick puppies,” said Neville.

“What?” responded Hermione.

“Brothers and sisters don't look at each other like you too and they don't hold hands
like you're doing now,” he said shaking his head. “I'm not that stupid or blind.”

“Well, that's it Harry all fixed up,” said Hermione nervously dropping Harry's hand.
“Neville, just go back to your business, please.”

Neville walked off laughing at the two of them.

“I'm sorry for that, Harry,” she said an instant later as Harry's hand banged on the
little dressing table beneath it. “I hate it when we have to put up with that stuff. We have so
much fun when people don't drop by and make fun of us.”

“I know,” said Harry with a smile. “Why can't we just be friends in everyone's eyes?
They have to make up stories.”

Hermione giggled though. “I get a kick out of some of them though. Reports of us doing it on the
Astronomy tower on a full moon was a riot.”

“How do you let stuff like that go by so easy, Hermione? I'd be livid if I were you,” said
Harry.

“Harry, there is a Quibbler quality to the stories. Haven't you ever noticed? No one takes
them seriously. It's like we're the two celebrities everyone uses to give their own love
life a jumpstart,” she reasoned.

“Look, there is a boy over there with moss growing behind his ears. Soon he'll look like a
Chia-Pet. I have to go. Come to my flat in Hogsmeade at four tomorrow for dinner then we'll go,
okay?” she said as she bristled off to help the first-year.

“Sure,” said Harry as he watched her walk away.

“Billy, you'll be fine. I'll have you back to class in a jiffy,” said Hermione.

“Go, Harry,” she said. “Your first afternoon class starts in twenty minutes.”

Harry hurried to the floo and threw in the powder, “The Hut.” He said.

He looked around his place at the mess he had to clean up at least twice a week. It looked just
like his room at the Dursleys' had. He would use something and either put it in the sink or
forget about it where it laid. He had to use Scourgify when the clutter got too much.

He thought about what Hermione said. She was right. They were great friends and the stories were
outlandish. If the stories were of the variety Ginny spread they were harder to debunk. Harry might
have become a bit of a roguish lover by reputation, but he was actually quite the opposite. It was
funny how if either a man or a woman was desirable and dated a lot, they had to be getting busy on
a regular basis as far as people were concerned. Since his name had been linked to every girl
between seventeen and twenty over the past three years it was natural that Hermione's had
too.

_-_-_-_-_-_-

Harry was busy the next morning with his duties as the assistant Quidditch coach and practice
referee. He was learning quickly just how dangerous flying around without a Beater's stick was.
And without anyone watching out for him when the Bludgers took off toward one of the players, he
was a sitting duck. If he was between the Bludger and the player is going for, well, he had to move
or get hit. He loved it. He was trying to organize a team from old players who still loved the
game. He didn't know who they would play, but he wanted desperately to get that excitement back
in his life.

He had gone back to the hut fed the animals, brushed Fang and stalked through the Forbidden
Forest to find Grawp. Harry often took meals to Grawp out there. Harry wasn't sure, but he
thought that somewhere in the forest a village of giants had sprung up and Grawp might be going off
there. He knew that giant race still mistrusted wizards and witches. Grawp was the exception not
the rule as far as giants went.

Finally, it was three-thirty and Hermione would be ready with dinner right on time. He
couldn't be late. She went all out when she cooked. She was quite remarkable he thought. She
was easily the best nurse intern on the ward, her potions were outstanding, and she had time to
have a love life or a so-called love life.

He walked down the Main Street and saw the small row of apartments at the far end of the block.
He stood and stared off toward the Shrieking Shack as he passed it. The memories passed in and out
quickly. He missed Ron. He knew it was a blessing that Hermione had not invested her heart in their
relationship. She wouldn't have been able to move on. It had only taken weeks to realize that
the fantasy of getting together with someone was not always matched by the reality. She had known
Ron loved her and she never flatly told him no, but she'd spent many a night with Ginny and him
telling of her sadness that one day she'd have to tell him. The way it ended was really hard
for her.

Hermione's flat was a tribute to her studies. It looked like an elegant version of a
library. She had dressed up her potions charts with lacey fringe and framed them. The bookshelves
were hand-crafted and finely detailed. She had pictures of Winky and Dobby on one wall and
Crookshanks on another. He always got a kick out of her matchmaking for Dobby and Winky. It had
taken a lot of hard work to get Winky to accept her lot in life as a free house-elf. Once she had,
the sparks with Dobby had flown instantly.

“Harry, hi,” said Hermione with her familiar smile and kiss on the cheek. “It's almost
ready.”

“Wow, you look nice Hermione. Who are you out to seduce tonight?” asked Harry.

“Well not you, Mr. Playboy,” she teased.

“All kidding aside. How do you do it Hermione? I mean you work all week, study, cook and still
have time to look good while slaving in the kitchen. I'd get it if you did it all by magic but
you don't,” said Harry.

“Well I don't have much time for a life now, do I then. That's how. I learned that all
these creeps who would try to tear my clothes off before they got to know me weren't worth it.
So I focused on the rest of my life,” she said.

“Oh, come on, Hermione. You've never spent a lonely Saturday night in the three years
I've known you,” said Harry.

“How do you know that, Harry?” she asked carrying the bowl of hot carrots to the table. “You
just assume that it's not lonely because I'm with someone. Most are really nice guys but
they're usually boring. Then at the end of the night, they become boorish with their slimy
lines about how beautiful I am and how they wish they could come in.”

“Me thinks the lady protests too much,” said Harry with a giggle.

“Harry just because you haven't found a pretty girl you wouldn't snog doesn't mean
I'm the same way,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah well it's easy for you to say no to the girls when they ask you to snog,” said Harry
with an evil grin.

“Harry that's gross,” said Hermione. “Leave it to you to make jokes about stuff like
that.”

“Well, how do you know that I don't say no?” asked Harry.

“Harry, have you ever met a guy who says they've slept with me?” Harry shook his head no.
“Do you think I've met girls who've claimed they've been with you?” He blushed.

“That's what I thought,” said Hermione with a smile. “I don't know if they're just
trying to scare off the competition or not, but the look on your face just now speaks volumes.”

“You know that doesn't mean a damn thing though Hermione. There is not a guy alive, unless
it's a muggle, who would dare sully your name in front of me and you know it,” said Harry.

Hermione smiled. “Well then, you know I'm not lying because you can always tell.”

“Yes, that's true. We never lie to one another and that's nice,” said Harry. “But why do
you let yourself get lonely?”

“Sex won't replace loneliness Harry. You know that. I want someone around who'll talk
with me and take me dancing without it being the `horizontal bop'.” She laughed. “I mean I like
going to London or Glasgow to the movies. I like taking walks on the grounds.”

“Why don't you ever come see me then?” asked Harry. “You know we only talk like this to
catch up on each other's lives. We could do this more often and neither of us would be
lonely.”

“Harry you can't be lonely. You love the fame and the attention you get now,” said Hermione.
“I don't blame you. If I were a guy our age I might be different. I'm not inviting myself
to that zoo you call a home. Plus, if you and the `tart of the week' are snogging there
I'll be embarrassed and so will you.”

“Hermione we're a lot more alike than you think. When was the last time you heard of a guy
turning down a woman's advances unless he had a girlfriend or wife?” he asked. “It's not
easy trying to push people away. It's just not the same.”

“Oh, rubbish Harry. If you wanted to settle down and find the right girl, you'd find her in
no time at all. You'd never be lonely again,” said Hermione eating slowly. “You haven't
touched a bite of your meal, Harry. Eat.”

“Well maybe at twenty I don't want to be tied down permanently,” said Harry.

“Now you're lying, Harry. Why do you have a girlfriend now then? Why did you have one over
the summer? You keep trying and letting them go. I think you find the snogging and rolling in the
hay isn't fulfilling, but you're going for quantity not quality,” said Hermione.

Harry ate quietly. The subject died away and they resumed with talking about their work and the
fun they were having learning their new jobs. “You know I really like what I'm doing even
though I'm terrible at it. I like the looks on the kids' faces when they learn new
things.”

“You know they like you too, Harry. I always hear good things when you show them wild monsters
like Hagrid did. But it's different seeing them one at a time in a cage than trying to raise
them,” she giggled. “Your snake charming makes them crazy. I can tell for two days afterwards whose
seen you do that.”

Harry laughed too. He'd taken the approach that learning could take place without
endangering the kids. He knew Hagrid's heart was in the right place, he just didn't
understand that loving the beasts himself didn't mean everyone else did. He never understood
that people liked him because he loved every living creature. That was his legacy. Harry hated his
first year or two with Mrs. Grubblyplank. But once he learned to take care of things without
wanting to breed them and treat them like pets, he started to realize that they were cool. He
couldn't be Hagrid, but he wasn't Grubblyplank either.

“I just want them to have an appreciation for life, Hermione. These creatures are just a way of
showing them how to be kind and take care of the world around them.”

Hermione smiled. “That's why I do what I do too,” she said. “Stop it. We can't talk
about it again.”

Harry had made her wheel the chair around that day and go back to Hagrid. He had to hug him. He
couldn't just say good bye like he were a fellow student going on holiday. But Hagrid had died
before they'd gotten back. Sometimes he thought that was why Hermione left. She couldn't
bear seeing him force himself through things after that.

“Oh, I know.” He said. “Hey, at least I didn't get knocked off my broomstick today,” he said
with smile. “I only get hurt when you're working so I have a reason to see you.” Hermione
smiled. He wondered if she knew it was true. He liked being around her.

“Yeah, well it doesn't make me feel very good that you could end up `dying to see me',”
she said with a straight face that slowly broke into a smile.

“You know, we'll each find someone one day and then we won't be able to do this,” said
Hermione. “That will be sad.”

“Yes, sad indeed,” said Harry. He felt like a professor talking like that which made him
cringe.

They walked into the party at the Three Broomsticks around seven-thirty. The place erupted in
the birthday song and people buying rounds of butterbeer. Neither Harry nor Hermione were
particularly big drinkers outside of the butterbeer, but when they got together they often let
their hair down and got a little goofy. The party went on for hours and as the guys started getting
beer goggles Hermione got more invitations to go home with guys for her birthday present. Harry
loved watching her subtly hex them into scratching fits or suddenly have an accident that involved
huge stains on the front of their pants. The last one had Harry laughing so hard he couldn't
breathe.

“Why would I want to go home with a drunk who pees his pants in public,” Hermione said as dark
stain grew on the front of the guys pants. Dean, Ginny, Neville and Seamus witnessed it too and
joined Harry in laughter.

“Way to show `em Hermione,” yelled Seamus. “Stupid git. Harry why didn't you just punch his
lights out for talking to her like that.”

Harry had held back more times than people knew, but it was more fun to see Hermione humiliate
them. That's what was nice. He'd met some very nice people tonight and so had she. With
Hogsmeade now the only place to go for fun in the British wizard world, it had become a party spot
reminiscent of the ones he'd read about in the London pub district. Not everyone was from
Hogwarts. For that reason, there were all kinds of people. They were no longer kids fooling around
with the DA. If he hit someone, they might not return it in kind. They might use a hidden wand and
that was nearly the same as a gun now in the muggle world.

As he looked around a thought came to him. Maybe she was right. He had become a little lazy. His
fame made it easy to have a new and more exciting girlfriend when things got boring. He needed to
find a way to slow his life down. He wasn't the playboy people made him out to be, but he
wasn't the one-woman man he wanted to be either. “Hermione, why don't you come live with
me?”

Hermione looked at him strangely. “I suppose I have to sleep with you or Fang, right? Harry have
you had too much to drink?”

“No, not like that. I mean as roommates. Geez, Hermione I thought you knew me better than that?”
he said slurring a little. But she wasn't completely sober either.

“There is no way I'm living in that dive with you, Fang, your pet snakes and that huge
spider,” she said.

“I'm not sure which of us you despise most. Me or the pets?” he said with a smile.

“YOU!” she said with a smile. “Harry, you're drunk and you don't know what you're
talking about.”

“No, seriously, if I fix the place up and make it somewhere you could call home, would you come
live with me and help me? You know you like some of the beasts and stuff as much as I do,” he said.
“It would kind of be like living on a farm. I know you need your privacy and I do too, but we
wouldn't have to be alone and it would be a way for me to settle down and you to get rid of the
jerks.”

“Harry, people will talk. If you think the stories are bad now. Can you imagine what they'd
be like?” asked Hermione. “They'll have me doing things with the animals.”

“Oh rubbish, Hermione. That's taking it too far. You're just as drunk as me. You're
my friend and I love you. We can get through it,” said Harry.

People stopped talking around them to look at him. He wasn't sure what he'd said to make
that happen at first. Then he realized what he'd said. He thought maybe they were waiting to
see if she kissed him or made him wet his pants. She did neither; she knew what he meant. They were
closer than many couples but they weren't lovers. They would take care of each other. “What did
I tell you Harry? Look what you've started.”

Eventually murmurs around the room started to die down after Hermione started talking to Neville
and Ginny. Harry had gone over to talk to Oliver, Fred and George.

When they met back up on their way out, Hermione said, “Harry, what were you thinking to say
something in here like that,” she said blushingly. “I love you too Harry. We both get along in life
because of our friendship. No one will understand, but now there's no harm in it because they
think we're doing it anyway. If you fix up the hut and make it livable for a girl, I'll
think about it. Privacy, Harry. I don't want to be able to hear you humping some seventh year
in the next room.”

“Hermione, that's horrible. You know I have to wait until they graduate to give them their
present,” he said with sarcastic smile and starting to really have trouble focusing.

“You are a sick man, Harry,” she said taking his arm. “But we do get carried away when we get
drunk, don't we? I'm not sure I'd trust you tonight if we were going back to the hut.
That's another reason I need to think about it.”

“When have I ever made you feel like that?” asked Harry. He was hurt, but not as much as he was
pretending to be. He shivered and licked his lips wishing he had another drink.

“Geez, Harry, could you imagine?” she said walking a little funny.

“No,” he lied. “We'd be okay though. Will you think about it?”

“Ask me again when we're sober and I'm not drunk enough to think about taking you to my
room?” she giggled. They arrived in front of her flat. “Good night, Harry. Don't go home
thinking I'm horrible. We know we have this thing we never talk about going on. And, so do I.
We'd have to sort that out first and I'd have to see the place. Give me a hug and be safe
going home.” He hugged her and gave her their customary peck on the cheek.

“Luv ya Hermione,” he said.

“Luv ya too, ya crazy…,” she said. “Get out of here before we're both sorry.”

Harry walked off stumbling up the road. “Sorry, Harry,” said Seamus.

“Whatchoo talkin' about?” slurred Harry. He knew what was happening. Both he and Hermione
had slammed a couple of shots after their little chat at the end of the night. He passed out on the
road. He heard George and Fred laughing. “We'll get him home, Seamus. We'll sleep on the
floor tonight and make sure he's okay.”

Harry's head hurt when he looked up at the lights and saw Fred chortle at him. “Harry, first
rule of getting laid with your best friend. Don't drink.”

“Is nah like tha' Fred,” said Harry. “She's my fren'.”

“Yeah right, and George is my distant cousin twice removed,” said Fred. Harry fell asleep to
their laughter.

-->



3. The Hangover
---------------



The Hangover—Chapter 3

Harry expected to see Fred and George still sitting in the one room hut when he awakened. He
counted himself lucky that they weren't. He was bothered by their insistence that Harry was
somehow out to score with Hermione. Or, rather, they were unaware of their feelings for one another
and it would be some great coup to show them what they were missing.

Harry wondered how anyone could miss the fact that he and Hermione were painfully aware that if
they wanted to be lovers it was only a tip of the head and a hearty--`Let's shag'—away. It
was a silent choice that came up in almost every conversation. To them, it wasn't a bad thing.
It was the only thing. As long as neither one of them started having masturbation sessions around
the idea, it was erotic and sustaining in a weird sort of way. They each had a secret lover that
they saw in public, but knew would never leave them dissatisfied or completely alone.

His head hurt. He laughed at another time in his life where it was a scar on his head that hurt.
Now, it was a good old-fashioned headache from two quickly downed shots of Jagermeister. Harry had
ordered it because he heard Oliver Wood order one. He got another for Hermione just because he
thought if he was going to get drunk she was too. He wondered how she was if he was this bad. She
was sixty pounds lighter than him and more susceptible to getting drunk than he was.

She was his friend. There were no ifs, ands or buts about it. He remembered vaguely that
she'd said they'd have to sort out their feelings first before they lived under one roof.
That was mildly discomforting, but true.

Harry wished he didn't have to get up to get the headache powders out of the cupboard. He
couldn't think straight at the moment. They would need to know the stakes. Would they somehow
have to decide that it was never to be? Or, would they have to agree that it wasn't to be now?
Or, did they need to decide that it was now or never? He wasn't even sure that he'd covered
all the options.

He walked slowly toward the cupboard with one eye closed and dragging his left leg slightly. He
realized that sometimes the nerves in his leg and back made his left side tingle and not respond.
It usually went away after a bit. He grabbed his pillow off the bed and propped himself up on the
sofa. It was then that he noticed Fang staring at him from about a foot away. “Oh, Jesus, Fang.
What the bloody hell?” He laughed. How had a monstrous dog like Fang followed him around without
being noticed?

He got up and let Fang out the back door. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The
midday sun was too bright, but he wasn't complaining. He'd done this to himself with the
second shot of Jagermeister. He was convinced he would have survived the first. The second was like
a haymaker blow to the side of his head.

Was Hermione home or at work today, he wondered? He loved the wizard world except for one thing.
No telephones or any electronic devices could be used on the grounds. He couldn't call to see
if she were okay nor could he Apparate at the gate and save time on the walk to her flat. “Woe is
me,” he laughed as he decided to get a shower and go see if she was okay.

He was suddenly aware of his thoughts since he woke up. Was he only speaking for himself when he
said that he and Hermione were aware of their decision to not be lovers? He had no idea now as
walked toward her flat. Would she let him in her flat unannounced? He thought that was an odd thing
to think of when he was so sure she'd agree to sex with him at the drop of a hat. Why
wouldn't she?

He knocked on her door. He heard the moan from the other side. “Go away. Come back later.”

“Jagermeister,” said Harry with a chuckle.

“Pardon my French, but fuck Jagermeister,” said Hermione. “You are a prat, Harry Potter--giving
me that rocket fuel to drink last night.” She tried to smile but only managed to leave the door
open and go back to her sofa and sit down. “One, I could forgive you for--two, you will pay dearly
for.”

“Hey, wait a minute, potty mouth,” he said softly. “I didn't hold your mouth open and pour
it in.”

“Oh piss off,” she said smiling now with her eyes closed. “Now I know what the term `Bludger to
the head' means.”

They laughed. “Well, Happy `effing' Birthday, Hermione,” said Harry. “I was worried about
you though. I mean, I knew if I felt bad, you would feel just as bad or worse. I'm sorry that
was a bad decision.”

“I would have felt terrible if you hadn't been so drunk too. We'd have done it in the
hallway as randy as I was feeling. Or, I would have tried anyway. I'd have passed out on you
before…well, I don't want to think about again,” she said.

“Hermione, do we share the same brain on some things?” he asked almost seriously.

“What do you mean?” she asked looking up like he had earlier with only one eye truly open trying
to minimize the light that sent bolts of pain through her head.

“I mean I was thinking about how that might have happened too. I was too drunk and I knew it.
You knew it. You knew if you said, `Okay, Harry, do me.' I would have been up to the task in a
heartbeat,” he said with a smile. “Why don't people know we know this about ourselves and that
we choose not to do it?”

“Because they're normal and we're sick freaks,” she said letting her head roll back on
the arm of her sofa.

Harry could hardly breathe he laughed so hard. “Well, since you put so romantically.”

“Why do we do this to each other, Harry?” asked Hermione straightening up a bit.

“I think for lots of reasons. One, I don't try to think about is that there's danger in
getting too close,” he said. “It's not like I don't see you as God awful sexy. I just
don't let myself get carried away with it.”

“That's actually kind of sweet,” said Hermione. “For me, I'm afraid we won't be a
match like me and Ron weren't a match.”

“That too,” said Harry. “I had one of those with Ginny.”

“Are we that `effed' up that we can't take a chance?” questioned Hermione. “The
humiliation of a failed relationship can't be as bad as what we get for walking around acting
indignant and snooty when people bring it up.”

“Is this the alcohol still talking?” asked Harry. “I'm not sure I'm going to want to
remember this conversation.”

“Why?' asked Hermione.

“Because it means we've been lying to people all this time and I can't think of how to
cook crow to my liking,” said Harry.

Hermione laughed at the thought. “Me either. So what do we do? We're not going to change
over night? And jumping in the sack isn't going to fix anything but blue balls and cobwebs. Did
I rent a sailor's mouth this morning or am I really acting like a street whore?”

“We're both talking like a couple of idiots to be honest. You're usually the one
who's all calm and proper and I'm the one with the sick expressions,” said Harry.

“I'm sorry. I'm embarrassed. I don't talk that way ever, but somehow this is like so
foreign I almost don't want to be myself for fear of being afraid,” she laughed as she
finished. “Now how is that for a neurotic statement?”

There was a long silence. Hermione and Harry were both deep in thought. They didn't look at
each other or move. Finally, Harry acknowledged the reason. “Neither of us know how to act now do
we? As long as we kept things the way they were we could joke and all that stuff.”

Hermione was in jeans in a tee shirt with her robe around her. Harry couldn't help looking
at her now. “I don't know how to even come over and sit with you,” he said. “That's
pathetic. I could jump someone else's bones in a heartbeat in a position like this…”

Hermione slid over and patted the seat next to her. He sat down. She pulled his arm around her
and held his hand. “It's like we have to go back to being fifteen again, Harry. If we start in
the middle, we'll screw it up.”

“We have a long way to go, don't we?” he confided. It was a question that was its own
answer.

“If we don't want to lose our best friend's, we have a very long way to go,” said
Hermione. “You don't go from letting your best friend shag a girlfriend and joke about it to
wanting to be the girlfriend without some issues.” She smiled.

“Screwing's easy. Making love and making a relationship work is hard,” said Harry. “I'm
master at screwing by the way.”

“Well, one day you'll have to prove that. I'll bring book with a scoring system,” she
said tickling his ribs.

“Oh that'll keep us in the mood,” he said. “I can hear it now: minus two points to Potter,
move three centimeters to the left or some such rubbish. You'd be the Bedroom Prefect.”

“I'm a perfectionist and you're what?” she asked magnanimously to avoid calling him the
name she was thinking.

“A slob,” he acknowledged. “Slob is the word, most definitely. Anything is good enough as long
as it isn't a complete failure. All you have to do is look at my six years of homework. It give
myself partial credit for the one year at the school of hard knocks.”

They laughed.

“That's exactly why we're afraid of each other,” said Hermione. “Right?”

“I think so,” admitted Harry. “Hi, I'm Harry Potter and I have a commitment problem.”

“Hi, I'm Hermione Granger and I have a commitment problem.”

They shook hands.

Harry smiled. “You are a really great girl, Hermione and I do love you.” He kissed her
softly.

“Ditto, Harry,” she said. “No, let me rephrase that. I love you, Harry. Now dump the
girlfriend.” She smiled again even broader than before. The hangover was apparently gone.

“Can I screw her first?” he said. “I'm kidding.” Hermione's face had widened suddenly in
shock.

“You have no idea how close you came to being castrated for that comment,” she said. “I was
about to take the barrette out of my hair and do field surgery on you.”

“Ouch! That definitely would have made the scoring book a moot point now wouldn't it?” he
kidded.

They sat and talked and occasionally threw in a minute or two of snogging. “You know this
isn't going to get it right?” said Hermione. “This is like one of those exercises that married
couples do on a retreat in therapy.”

Harry had to laugh. She was right. It was the “How to Have a Relationship with Your Best Friend
Show”. Guaranteed to work: no passion, no mess, no heartbreak. He shared that with Hermione.

“We have to find a way to kick start ourselves. Right now, we could easily walk right back into
our old lives and lie to everyone,” said Hermione. “I hate to say it, but I could. As a matter of
fact, it would be harder than ever to get out of it if I did. I'd always have in the back of my
mind that you love me. That's how we're surviving now, but it was an educated guess.”

Harry looked at her again. “You know it will probably be sex that will do it,” he said quietly.
“But we're talking ourselves out of the mood as we sit here.”

“I feel like my parents,” said Hermione. “They love each other and they probably do it still.
They have to work at it to keep the passion alive. If we love each other as much as I know we do,
we can do this.” The tears came to her eyes slowly. “It's hard when you've shared every
emotion in life together but never took time for each other.”

“We are pathetic, you know. If people heard us talking they'd say, just throw her on the
floor and give it to her. You know you want to,” he said.

“Let's try to do something different than we do now. You know the old saying. `If you always
do what you've always done, you'll always get what you always got'. It's inevitable
that you'll get some bump or bruise this week that needs tending to. I'll have Marlie,
George's girl take care of you instead of me. We'll do our best to minimize our contact
except for a date next Saturday night. We're too accessible to one another. The mystery is
gone,” said Hermione. “No holds barred on the date though. You can't show up in a tee shirt and
I can't just cook you dinner like you're visiting your sister.”

“Why does that sound like such a good idea?” asked Harry enthusiastically. “We could wait all
our lives for one of us to find the right person to jerk us out of our comfort zone and it would be
too late.”

Hermione's shoulders dropped and she sighed. “You know, Harry. We're not the typical
best friends figure out their love for each other kind of story. The date thing might actually take
a while. New couples build the excitement by seeing each other more often. I think we have to
unlearn things about each other. I'm afraid that it might come down to what you just said.”

“You mean either you or I meet someone who gives us an urgency to figure it out?” asked
Harry.

“Look at what we're doing. We're trying to figure out a strategy to not hurt one
another. I've got you doing the perfection thing too,” said Hermione. “Kiss me and go home,
Harry. Just so you know what I'm talking about. You picked me up for my birthday party
yesterday with no present, no Happy Birthday dressed like you would for a casual night out. I still
love you and you still love me. With those standards from both of us, we can do better. We can make
it exciting and new. Think about that and I'll see you Saturday. Now, get out.” She said with a
smile.

Harry walked down the Main Street again thinking about their conversation. That was it. Maybe
that's what everyone sees in them, he thought. They see us in a routine and they're just
trying to help us spice things up so we don't miss it. “Man, I really want to just get laid,”
he said out loud.

For the first time, he thought about Hermione and what she'd think if he acted like that
with her. Maybe Hermione didn't dislike the guys who approached her with cheesy lines as much
as she hated the fact that they didn't come with a warning label. “Diseased.” “Perverted.”
“Self-centered.” ”Tender.” ”Caring.” He was definitely working from a position of strength. He knew
what she liked and didn't like. She wasn't the `I'll run off with the bad boy
type'. So, sleazy aggressive styles were a no-no. He couldn't think of a girl who would
like that anyway, but he was sure that there were some.

He realized that he'd never take care of his duties as a teacher if he tried to figure it
all out at once. He had to try to do it the way he felt comfortable and work from there.

One more thought crossed his mind. Maybe this wasn't Hermione's problem at all. Or,
rather, maybe he had to take more responsibility than he had. He was famous. Dianna approached him.
Romilda Vane had approached him. There were countless others that made it unnecessary for him to
invest his energy in getting what he wanted. If he wanted sex, it was a no-brainer. He wasn't
being arrogant nor had he had hundreds of girls knocking his door down. But, he had had more
opportunities at a young age than most guys. He wanted Hermione and he was going to have to risk a
lot to make it work. He'd stopped having to do the risk thing when he and Ginny got together.
It hadn't worked out with either Ginny or Cho. He had failed the two times he'd tried it
and he was scared. This one wasn't like that. There would never be another, Hermione. There
wouldn't be a next time.

-->



4. Reliving the Past
--------------------



Reliving the Past—Chapter 4

Harry's evening ended thinking of Ron with a very heavy heart. In his mind, there was no way
that anyone would ever understand how important he had been to Harry. He still was important, but
Harry couldn't bring himself to travel to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and
Injuries to see him.

Without realizing it until very recently, he couldn't understand why Hermione might carry
some guilt for something not her fault. Ron had probably survived the curse because of her. It
wasn't well known but in their final year, Harry had taught them that when fighting Lord
Voldemort happiness, hope and love were the only weapons that could overcome his attacks.
Concentrating on survival to see a loved one again would keep the mind from collapsing under the
Cruciatus Curse. Two things came from that particular curse: madness and the loss of the will to
live in such pain.

Harry was convinced that Hermione was the reason Ron had fought it successfully for so long.
Hermione, he thought, must know or at least suspect it. Harry had had no one he loved so much, he
thought. So he always believed that thoughts of Ron, Hermione, Ginny and everyone who'd helped
him would be his salvation. Maybe, thought Harry, when it was over Ron realized the truth that
Hermione never loved him as he had loved her. Harry thought that Ron had survived only to drown in
madness of a broken heart.

Harry sat at the table with his head in his hands. He knew he wouldn't sleep. The thoughts
of Ron took him back to that night. The halls and corridors were filled with wand flashes as Harry
passed through them dodging and darting as if a sixth sense guided him. Hermione and Ron followed.
His head reverberated with the sounds of tumbling concrete as chunks of it fell in their path.
He'd never saw where they had gotten off to the moment one wall collapsed behind him knocking
him off his feet. He felt the burning of his scar as the viperous face of Lord Voldemort closed
in.

“Ah, Harry, so we meet at last. No where to go and no way to get there as they say,” said
Voldemort.

“You have been a naughty muggle-loving boy, Harry. I thought that you would have been more loyal
to your own kind,” he continued.

“I have been spending a lot of time with Tom lately. I've been kind to the people who were
like you were. Those who were lonely, sad and forsaken--I had to become one with them to
understand. You have lost your soul even when you have strived to save it and keep it immortal,”
said Harry. These were the words that he knew came from his mind and heart. He pictured the
phoenix, Fawkes, sweeping in once more. His heart was once again filled with hope and joy.

“Tom is dead, Harry. I should think you would know that by now,” said Lord Voldemort rising
above Harry and kicking his wand away.

“You should know that if Tom dies, so do you,” said Harry. “Or, does that scare you?”

“The Riddle boy died years ago, Harry. Your cheap psychological tricks cannot fool me,” said
Voldemort arrogantly. “I'm tiring of this quickly Harry.”

“Oh, so you've never wondered who lives in my scar so that you can be the embodiment of
evil. No man save Lucifer himself is evil to the core,” said Harry. “You rejected your true soul in
destroying the essence of love that resided in my mother. You were banished just as God banished
Lucifer for destroying the pure of heart.”

Harry remembered the look of fear passing over Lord Voldemort's face. “Lies put in your mind
by that fool Dumbledore. You are no more Tom Riddle than I am.”

“Exactly, are you seeing the folly of it all yet?” said Harry.

Harry shivered at the table tears streaming down his face. He still didn't know where what
he'd done had come from. But his mind was filled with contentment, joy, laughter, love and,
inexplicably, courage that he would survive. But he knew the cost to those who were there.

“What cost? The cost of this one's life? Avada Kedavra. Or this one? Avada Kedavra.” One by
one Lord Voldemort killed each person who stood near. He had no remorse nor did he care whether
they were Death Eater, Order of the Phoenix or Ministry of Magic. He killed. Yet, Harry knew it had
to be like that. He knew why.

Harry had not mentioned cost. But he had thought it. Lord Voldemort and he were becoming one
again as a power greater than himself radiated him pulling Voldemort in as if he were a vacuum.
Voldemort could feel it. He killed to maintain his form. Just as Ron focused on love to survive,
Voldemort could not let love conquer the hate and despair that fed him. He had to kill to survive.
When Harry sensed that Lord Voldemort was about to make another Horcrux and kill him to survive, he
acted. “Accio,” his wand returned to him and phoenix song filled him. “Expelliarmus.”

Off-guard, Lord Voldemort was disarmed but very close and dangerous. But the damage had been
done. He could no longer keep pace with the transformation back to Tom Riddle by killing nor could
he make another Horcrux. Harry had never been prepared for what came next.

It was as if Lord Voldemort understood the magic that was destroying him. Voldemort's shriek
seemed to call the Dementors from the depths of the Ministry. They approached him now. He tried but
he could not summon his patronus fast enough. Harry's joy could have satisfied all the
Dementors on earth at that point. It was what was keeping Harry alive. The first Dementor kissed
him. He remembered the horror, but somehow he knew he'd lived and another terrible explosion
shook the building and it seemed emanate from his head. His scar burned as it never had before. For
several moments, he could not focus on anything but the wrenching agony as if his head had been
split in two.

The next thing he was aware of was his leg and arm being crushed under the weight of the rubble.
The dust filled his lungs. He felt as if he were on fire, yet growing out of the ashes. His leg
burned in agony and his arm felt useless. Yet somehow, with only one arm and power he couldn't
describe he freed himself. The tears pouring from his face, he helped those he could. It was not
him that was curing these wounds. He knew he was delusional. But he felt as if it was his tears
were doing it and as if he were the phoenix. He found Hermione and Ron, the same happened with
them. Only Ron's eyes rolled to the back of his head. His physical wounds mended, but his
psyche had been torn asunder.

Then he saw Tom Riddle as he'd seen him in the Penseive the last time Tom was recognizable.
Harry suddenly felt cold and his leg throbbed anew and the pain in his arm threatened to make him
lose consciousness. He continued to try to help others but he could not. They were dying. He pulled
one to safety, then another. Finally, in the arms of a screaming Hermione trying to stop him from
hurting himself, he collapsed.

Harry sat at the table with his eyes burning so badly that he felt as if he were back in that
dark, dust-filled chamber again. Hermione had sat with Ron's and his head in her lap weeping
for several minutes until Kingsley Shacklebolt found them. He still didn't remember the four
days that followed.

Harry sat and thought of how ironic that evening was. Had the Dementor feasted on his soul at
the side of the lake with Sirius, Lord Voldemort would never have risen to the power he did. His
scar was the good that existed in Tom Riddle and rejected in the act of attempting to murder an
innocent baby. That portion of Voldemort could not coexist with the evil and Avada Kedavra was
abandoned in essence because Lord Voldemort would have been committing suicide. It had taken Harry
and left the rest to fend for itself as Voldemort. The Dementors wanted Harry because there lived
another joyous soul within him. There had been a day when he'd laughed silently at the thought
that when Dementors found Harry it was a `Two for One Special”. Tonight he could not laugh.

The next morning was very hard on Harry as he raked the leaves. The miniature corral that served
as a pen for all manner of creatures needed repair as well. Harry went to open the gate and tired
as he was, his hand scraped the splintered wood. It forced a two-inch sliver of wood through the
webbing between the index and middle finger of his right hand across his palm toward his wrist. He
screamed in agony. A student heard his scream and ran back to the castle to get help.

It had been a long time since he'd hurt himself this badly. He hoped that Hermione would
come to him as she had so often before. Harry heard her say, “I don't want him to think
I've abandoned him.”

“Hermione, you told us why and you must trust him to understand and us to help you,” said a
voice much too young to be Nurse Pomfrey.

Around the corner came a mousy-haired nurse with bright blue eyes and the name Marlie on her
name tag. “Ouch, that looks pretty painful, Harry. Hi, I'm Marlie.”

“Hi,” he said trying to not show his agony too much.

“Look, if this hurts it's better to say so. I won't stop if you act like it doesn't
hurt,” said Marlie. She took her wand and waved it over his hand. The intense pain stopped for the
moment. “That's only temporary so I can see how deep it really is.”

“Hermione, you can go back to work. If he's going to die, I'll call you,” she
teased.

He noticed Hermione peering around the corner. Harry almost smiled but Hermione's glassy
eyes told him that looking like he was enjoying the joke at her expense would be cruel. “She's
worried about me, huh?” asked Harry.

“Duh,” said Marlie. A second or two pause was followed by, “I'm sorry. Too much time around
George and Fred. I think you know them. These things can be nasty. You know the drill about
injuries and wizards, but this kind can cause infections that we don't fight off so well.”

He liked her. She was straight forward and disarming. George had done well, he thought. “Seems
to me that George is a lucky guy,” he said.

“And everyone says you're a charmer Harry. No girl, single or otherwise, is immune to your
charms,” said Marlie cheekily. “That's the real reason Hermione doesn't want me here,
she's jealous.”

Harry turned pink. It was hard to embarrass him, but she'd done it. “Now you know why George
and I get along so famously. I'll never leave him though. Because he's got the
biggest…”

Harry thought for sure she was going to go there again. Her eyes widened as if for a punch line.
“heart, of anyone I've ever known. Yes, my job is to annoy you and keep you thinking of
something else while I pull this thing out of your hand.” He felt a ripping sensation between his
fingers.

His hand and arm were on fire. Somehow she had kept him so off-balance that she had been able to
wedge her fingers along the sides of the splinter and force enough to the front between his fingers
that she could pull it out in one movement. The blood on the front of her smock was pretty gross.
“Poppy, come help me please,” she said. Another wave of the wand while Marlie kept direct pressure
between his fingers stopped the bleeding. His hand began to swell and throb.

“Harry, come see me every morning before your first class. You might need help doing your chores
until at least Wednesday. “I'm sorry for being a little forward, but with guys like you, I know
how to make you squirm.”

Now he wasn't so sure he liked her. “What's that supposed to mean?” he said
incredulously.

“Just what I said. I know how to make you squirm. Admit it, you squirmed,” said Marlie.

“I don't know why Hermione would tell me to see you if you're like this man-hater,” he
said. “All of a sudden, I feel sorry for George.”

She smiled. “And we've felt sorry for Hermione. Be back tomorrow at what time, Hermione?”
Marlie looked down the row of beds, “She says seven-thirty, Harry.” She handed him a small vial of
potion and a container of powder. “Bring them tomorrow and I'll show you what to do with
them.”

Harry sat in the hut for most of the afternoon fuming about the way Marlie talked to him.

He was not going to let this go. He'd go see George and Fred. There had to be some
explanation. No one disliked him like she seemed to dislike him.

Diagon Alley was slowly being rebuilt. The buildings themselves were fine. It was the trade that
had suffered because so many of the magical artisans had fled to other countries when Voldemort
took residence in Britain again. George and Fred's shop still remained. It wasn't as hard
to believe as some thought it would be that their business thrived when others had not. Scared, sad
people needed things to make them laugh. Fred and George provided that.

He walked in at five o'clock the normal closing time for most shops in the area and found
Fred counting the money. “Oh, heya, Harry,” said Fred. “Hey George, guess who's here.”

“Marlie?” replied George.

Fred put his fingers to his lips. “Watch this. Yeah, the boss is here.”

“Er, ah, be right there, Sweetheart,” said George. He emerged a moment later looking flustered.
“Fred that's not funny. You know how much I hate it when she shows up unexpected.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah I met her today. She's gorgeous, but what a piece of work.”

“You liked my little act, didn't you Harry?” said a feminine voice from behind George. It
was Marlie. They'd had him on again.

“Oh, jeez, I'm out of here,” said Harry. This is too creepy.

“I set her straight Harry. Really. Ask her,” said George.

He looked at Marlie. “What is he talking about?” asked Harry.

“Harry, you only know what you see and what you hear. I was told this morning that Hermione
couldn't take seeing you anymore and that I needed to see you whenever you came in. I had no
other explanation when you came in today. Hermione explained it after you left in more detail than
these to stiffs could have ever done,” she said smiling.

“Yeah, you know you like my stiff…upper lip when I try not to cry,” said George with a demonic
laugh.

“So, I'm sorry if I seemed a little protective,” said Marlie.

“Exactly what did she tell you?” asked Harry.

“These two told me that there was no way in the world you would intentionally hurt Hermione and
you'd probably rather put your own eye out than hurt her unintentionally. Hermione pretty much
told me of your conversation yesterday. You remember that don't you? She's the nice girl
you see. Not the little bimbos that come around to make little Harry happy,” she said to the roars
of laughter of the twins. “That was purely for these two morons' pleasure. I make the same
comment about Fred and the girl he likes but won't commit to.”

“You do seem bitter,” said Harry. “Sorry.”

“Harry, if you had to hang out with these two you'd be bitter too. They're rich and
I'm a struggling nursing student,” said Marlie.

“She's funny, isn't she?” said George. “That's some of the stuff she's making up
for a comedy routine at the club we want to buy.”

“Really, Harry. Before you think, I'm horrible. It takes a lot of nerve to try what you two
are trying to do,” said Marlie. “George and Fred, can I talk to Harry for a minute?”

“Sure,” said George who motioned to her pointing and mouthing (she's smart, listen to
her.)

“I need to take this to Gringott's by five-thirty anyway,” said Fred.

“Harry, I really am sorry. I'm not the bitch I seemed to be today. I have never met anyone
like Hermione and I'd do anything to protect her from being hurt,” said Marlie.

“Me too,” he said. “But why attack me like that today? I mean we had never met,” said Harry.

“That's such a long story that I would embarrass myself telling it. Let's just say this.
I'm a year older than George and Fred which makes me three years almost four older than you.
The accent is gone and I came from Beauxbatons. When the tragedy occurred here, I volunteered to
help with the survivors. I studied psychology in muggle studies and still do at Oxford. Well, I
hear a lot of stuff about the way boys behave toward girls and I'm not always impartial.
I'm starting to figure out that a lot of girls…now this is kind of my act coming out
again…don't understand the concept of: “if you fuck with the bull you get the horns.” The
rumors about you being some sort of guy who preys on innocent girls were much more one-sided than I
was led to believe. Hermione and I had a long talk today. So, I would have verbally castrated you
if I could before I found out I was wrong to a great degree about you. I'm sorry.”

“I still don't get it,” said Harry. “I'm not a bad guy and I never intentionally hurt
anyone.”

“I realized it was vindictive girls who felt stupid for not realizing that you were emotionally
unavailable. Guys don't say, `hey can I screw you for fun.' They let things happen and when
it gets to be too much or too close, they leave. If a girl knows a guy has had a lot of girls in
his life, she should run from him, not jump in his bed to be the next victim. No matter what a nice
guy he is,” said Marlie.

“Who told you all this?” asked Harry. “Not Hermione, surely.”

“No, she wouldn't tell me one bad thing about you if I guessed it. George and Fred used
examples of rumors I remembered. So, I know that a lot of stupid people have made your life kind of
tough,” said Marlie. “Where I blame you is how do you do this to Hermione? If you care for her, how
do you even look at another girl?”

It took a while, but he told Marlie the story of what he thought his problem was. His childhood
and a lot of other things made him kind of needy. She was like talking to a counselor in one of
those books he'd seen on the shelves. “Do you think I sort of sabotage relationships because of
Hermione?”

“What do you think? You know yourself better than I do. Do you want my opinion or confirmation
of yours?” she asked.

“I want the truth as you believe it to be. If that's your opinion then fine,” said
Harry.

“Yes. You were one of the few I didn't talk to after the Great War ended. I met Fred and
then George and we worked out the deaths of their parents and Ron's predicament. I found out
their brother had married a fellow Beauxbatons school girl. But yes, I believe you do. Why? I
don't know. There are some really good reasons though. And I hope it's one of them and not
survivor's guilt. She's a really wonderful girl and you're a great guy deserving of
someone like her. That's the best one. The other is that you have always secretly loved her and
you feel guilty that Ron isn't with you anymore, but you want to be there to take care of her
for him. So, you don't go too far away.”

Tears grew in his eyes. “I guess I won't do that again,” he said trying to clear the choking
pain out of his throat from the pain.

“What's that?” asked Marlie.

“Ask you to tell me the truth. I might get more than I bargained for,” said Harry. “I guess you
made me squirm again.”

“I don't think you realize how tough you are for a sensitive guy,” said Marlie. “I've
seen guys who have lost a loved one demand to know why God hates them and never accept what you
have had to accept in life. No tears, just rage. So, don't think that squirming is a bad thing.
It's the part that makes us challenge ourselves and go on,” she said with a smile. “That will
be seven hundred fifty galleons. So, George and Fred only owe you two hundred-fifty more.”

Harry smiled. She hugged him. “You do what you have to for you and Hermione. Don't let
anything that you think my be painful, get in your way. I'll give her the same advice.”

“George is lucky,” said Harry.

“You want to know the truth. I almost didn't go out with George because I was afraid he
needed me too much. He's devastated about the losses in his family. So is Fred. But they're
good guys and George is going to be fine,” said Marlie.

The rest of the night ended up on a nice note. He, the twins and Marlie went out for a nice
dinner and for the first time since he'd known the twins they talked about their loss. At first
he was sad, but he learned that Marlie preached remembering the good things and not the loss. The
growth was more important than the loss. “Harry, you're still like our brother. I wish Ron
could be with us.” George and Fred toasted Harry.

Marlie made them all go sit with Ron for an hour.

The horror from the night before seemed to fade away.

-->



5. Anything for Love
--------------------



Anything for Love—Chapter 5

Harry got up early as usual and fed his animals and pets. He regretted pulling on the gate
almost immediately. He should have used his left. His hand hurt from the strain. It throbbed
again.

At seven-thirty, Marlie came in ready to change the dressing and show him what to with the
potion and powder. “Wow, what did you do Harry? The swelling should have gone down by now.”

“I forgot and used it to pull the gate shut after feeding the animals,” said Harry. “Should have
used my left but I didn't think about which hand to use since there was no pain.”

“This soaks through the top layer of skin and cleans out the wound, but the swelling makes that
too hard. It just doesn't work if the underlying woumd is too far from the surface like this,”
said Marlie holding up the powder and potion he'd taken with him. “We'll check to see if
the swelling goes down by this afternoon.”

“You think it'll be okay, right?” asked Harry rather nervously. “

“If I got it all the slivers out there's no problem at all, but we don't want to wait
for an infection to start if I didn't,” she said.

“Sounds bad,” he said.

“Infections are hard to stop,” said Marlie. “We don't want one in there. Do you need help
today? I could send an owl to Fred or George. They'd come or you could ask Hermione,” said
Marlie.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw movement near the racks of linens in the corner. He saw
Hermione putting away the sheets, pillow cases and blankets. It was a private moment worth a laugh.
She insisted that she do it or she threatened that she would send every house-elf working in the
laundry new clothes. They let her put laundry away. He missed her. A day without Hermione was a day
without sunshine in his book.

“Harry, are you listening to me?” asked Marlie recognizing the far away look.

“Yes, ask for help, sorry.” Harry looked at the profile of the girl he loved in the distance. He
never realized how many curves a girl had when you looked at her from the side.

“Well, take this and put it on. It will make your hand feel better,” said Marlie with a grin.
She handed him the hat nurses wore.

“Yeah sure.” He said absentmindedly. It had taken a second to realize what she was saying. Then
looking at the soft linen nurses cap he knew he was busted. “Oh, jeez. I'd be quite a sight
wearing that without the smock and dress now wouldn't I?” He handed it back to her as the
redness in his face started to grow. She clipped it back in her hair looking to see what had
distracted him and laughed.

“Yes you would. I should have known there was only one thing here interesting enough to you,”
she smiled. “Seriously, do I have your attention?”

“Completely.”

He looked at his hand and realized it did look rather nasty.

“Why did you give me this yesterday?” asked Harry.

“Well, I'm not perfect either. I forgot I had until you showed up today. I must have had it
in my hand to put with the notes on your chart and just spaced out,” she said blushing. “Maybe I
was day dreaming about George or worse…about the cute Harry Potter standing in front of me.”

“You are horrible,” said Harry with a laugh.

He smiled at Hermione and waved. “Hi,” he said. She smiled and waved back. She set off to work
again.

“Okay, Harry. Come back later this afternoon and we'll check the swelling,” she said.

“Great,” he said feeling rejuvenated by Hermione's smile.

Paperwork was Harry's least favorite task. He couldn't really do it either until the
bandage came off because he couldn't write well. But he could read through the notes and make
sure that his feed inventories and other materials were sufficient for the winter. Writing a number
in the margins was possible, but not much more. He walked around the hut to the storage bins and
through the little makeshift barn he'd been trying to build since spring. He really did need
help finishing it. He'd like to have a real horse on the grounds—not a trained unicorn or an
invisible thestral or even a hippogriff. He wanted an honest to goodness horse that he could care
for. He had no idea why, but he did.

He'd managed to avoid anymore trauma to his hand and went back as Marlie ordered. Marlie
coated the area with the salve after washing it. He could feel a slight warming sensation. It was
like the salves Madam Pomfrey gave for aching muscles after a Quidditch match. Marlie put a piece
of linen bandage on it, then wrapped it once with the rest of the bandage. It was far less bulky
now than it had been.

“Nice Harry. I don't think I missed any of the splinters. The swelling will go down more and
this will work better. Leave it covered until bedtime then wash your hand. And sleep with it open
to the air. The bandage is there really only to keep you from rubbing your eyes with the salve on
it or touching the animals with it. Put it on again tomorrow morning and just wrap some gauze
around it. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon at the same time. No heavy work for at least one
more day though,” said Marlie. “Got it?”

“Sure but why no heavy work?” asked Harry.

“I want to see if you're accident prone or just making excuses to come here to see
Hermione,” she said with a smile. “You can do heavy work if it doesn't require your hands.
Which if you think about it is a silly thing to say. No heavy work. Wizards heal fast when they
don't re-injure themselves.”

“Got you,” said Harry. “Well, take care and thanks. If you see Hermione, tell her I miss her.”
He did. I felt weird to not even catch a glimpse of her this afternoon. He left thinking of her
putting away the linens that morning. She was cute.

Harry turned his thoughts to what he could do for his part to make Saturday more exciting. He
realized that maybe he needed to come up with some ideas of different places to go. That was one
idea. Another, he thought was to dress in nicer clothes. He had the ribbed tee shirts and a sport
coat. Maybe with some ideas from the mannequins in the men's stores he could figure out a way
to use what he had. He had some muggle money but he hadn't converted any of his galleons to
muggle cash for a year or more. If he took Hermione outside of the wizard world he'd have to
have more.

With the smaller bandage on his hand he was able to bend his hand more. That was something
he'd taken for granted. It ached when he tried to close his hand on the pencil he used instead
of a quill. He found quills a pain in the outdoor environment and only had one for formal letters
now. He made a list: restaurants, clothes, clubs… At the bottom, he wrote…look for things you
won't think of sitting here. He laughed. That last note would only help if he looked at it
while he was out.

He hadn't had much experience shopping or anything without a girl to help him find things.
The girl factor in his clothes purchases was solely because he was wearing jeans with holes in them
or they noticed he'd worn the same thing on consecutive dates. He was content to be simple.
After all, as he'd realized two nights before, he didn't need to dress to impress for some
reason.

He went to a mall where there were many varieties of shops. He looked at the ones for young
people like himself and didn't think the hip-hop attire was him and it certainly wasn't for
his and Hermione's straight-laced image. He wasn't a member of the British House of Lords
either. He liked the style he of clothes he wore. Maybe if he just got more variety, different
colors and fewer jeans, he could spice up his appearance a little.

It was nice that he didn't know his way around. He knew how to get home. All he had to do
was find a secluded spot and Disapparate to the front gate of Hogwarts. That's all that
mattered. He'd just walk until he saw something interesting. It was strange to be out in public
without someone to talk to or who was constantly talking to him. He saw things he knew he would
have missed.

There was a moment that he knew would stick in his mind. He saw a couple giggling standing at a
taxi queue. They were probably a little older than Harry but they looked like they were having fun
being silly. The people around them looked at them with sidelong glances, but they seemed not to
care. Without warning, as if some sort of tension wire snapped between them, the woman had taken
the collar of his jacket and pulled him close for a kiss. He'd softly taken the backs of her
bare arms. Her leg kicked up like he'd seen in so many old movies when he'd watched them as
a kid at the Dursleys. The people around them looked away in embarrassment. He hadn't heard a
word, but something connected between those two people in an instant.

He thought about it as he walked past them standing now nose to nose whispering as if they were
telling secrets with no regard for the rest of the world. He wanted a moment like that with
Hermione--not necessarily waiting in public or anything remotely similar to this scenario at all.
He wanted to look in her eyes and feel the emotion he could see radiate from the two lovers'
eyes and the glow that was around them. He noticed now that people in the cue smiled at one another
and glanced at them. He wondered, if like it had warmed him, the warmth of the love melted the cold
hearts of those strangers.

A bookstore seemed interesting to Harry. He wondered if there were any of those self-help books
for guys like him. He knew he would never sit and read one cover to cover so he looked through
books that offered options for heating up dormant relationships. Non-verbal communication was
mentioned many of them. The light touch of a hand to a cheek in response to a compliment seemed
sweet. The offering of an arm instead of grabbing a hand while taking a walk seemed like a subtle
way of inviting physical intimacy without forcing it. There were so many more ways a girl could
take an arm and respond.

Along with that, body language was huge. He knew that to be true. Hermione could say something
silly with a wink and he felt warm inside. It was the unspoken sexual tension they'd discussed.
But instead, they'd keep talking and go right past the moment. Taking and offering physical
clues instead of being chatty would change the tone. Again, he wondered. There were so few words
between the man and woman he'd seen. Yet, it still didn't seem to matter how few, because
what they said inspired a connectedness that was full of laughter.

He'd tried to take mental notes until his belly rumbled for food. He was hungry so he left
the bookshop and kept walking until he found a row of restaurants and pubs. He stopped and ordered
light meal of fish and chips. He felt adventurous so he ordered a beer—Black and Tan. He recoiled
at the bitter warmth of it. He had simply followed the suggestion of the waiter. By the time he was
done with his meal, he had grown accustomed to the taste of the beer and rather liked it. He paid
the bill.

He decided that he'd seen some things in the men's store not to far away that he liked.
He thought that the styles and colors he saw there fit nicely. They were the designer variety made
of soft shiny material that had a definitely more dressed up look than he'd been used to. He
also wanted to buy a wool sport coat for winter. He remembered seeing a young woman helping a guy
in from a storefront window earlier. He was sure she was a sales agent since she wore the measuring
tape around her neck.

“Hi, may I help you, sir?” said a salesman as he entered.

Harry felt a little embarrassed because he didn't want to stand out in this nice place. “I
was hoping to have the girl salesperson. I'm sorry. I just like the way girls pick out my
clothes,” said Harry. He didn't like to do it because he was sure that the salesman was very
good.

“Chrissy, another guy wants you to help pick out clothes,” said the salesman in a hurt tone. “A
cute guy I might add.”

He hadn't noticed nor cared until then, but now Harry realized he didn't know how to
handle openly gay men. He hadn't suspected until he'd heard the tone in the man's
voice.

He was relieved that Chrissy was the girl he'd seen. “Hi, I'm Chrissy. You are?”

“Harry,” he said.

“What can I show you?” she asked. She extended her hand for a friendly handshake.

He went over how he liked to dress and shared his ideas. He liked that she knew exactly what he
was talking about. “You know I wish more guys would dress casual like that.”

Without thinking he said, “Well, my girlfriend thinks I'm getting a little lazy in dressing
up for our dates, so I thought I'd surprise her.”

“Oh, what's her name?” asked Chrissy as she looked through the rack of slacks. “By the way,
it's sweet that you're doing something about it. I know she'll appreciate it.

“Hermione,” he said. It made him feel good to say it. And, he'd never said it before.

“That's an interesting name, Greek mythology, right?” she asked.

“You know, I never asked her or knew,” he admitted.

“Oh, well. She'll like this combination on you. It brings out the color of your eyes and it
doesn't look too colorful for a straight guy,” she said.

Harry must have had a strange look on his face because she seemed to smile extra broadly. “Yes,
most of the men who come here are gay. Robert is a very nice guy by the way and if he knew you were
straight you wouldn't have needed to feel threatened.”

“Oh, I had no idea when I came in. I just saw you from the window earlier and I'm used to
girls helping me pick out my stuff. I hope he wasn't offended,” said Harry honestly even if
he'd been a little uneasy at the tone of Robert's voice.

“I'll tell Robert that,” said Chrissy. “I don't think it matters much though. He's
pretty cool about stuff like that. He plays it up sometimes just for fun. He rarely talks that way.
I think he was having you on.”

He bought one pair of designer jeans, two pairs of dress slacks, and several shirts that
he'd have never thought would have been his style. He was glad that he'd brought every
shilling of his muggle money because if he'd have bought a book earlier he'd have been
short now.

“Harry, I'd like to meet Hermione. Any girl whose boyfriend comes here with no idea where
he's going is probably pretty cool herself,” said Chrissy. “My boyfriend doesn't get out of
the car and come in, the prat.” She smiled. “He'd better get over quick too, because I'll
dump him in a heartbeat if he acts like a fool.”

“I don't get it,” said Harry.

“Oh, never mind. I guess you really don't get it--which in today's day and age surprises
me. Take care,” she said.

“Yeah, see yah,” said Harry with the jacket over his shoulder with the bag tied to it. It dawned
on him that she meant her boyfriend didn't approve of her working in a place where gay people
were the norm. Harry just thought it was a typical human attitude toward people who weren't
like themselves. He wondered if it was the same kind of discrimination he'd faced with the
Death Eaters. He hoped he'd not made any indications that he was bothered. He would not have
liked to be thought of as being like Chrissy's boyfriend. He shivered at the thought of
prejudice even here and decided he knew where he'd shop from now on.

He got home and hung up his clothes. He'd not bothered with getting pants that needed
tailoring. He worked on a farm, or it was like one anyway. He wasn't going to need that kind of
fashion. Even the jacket fit him off the rack so he was happy. He'd look good on Saturday.

Later, he heard the sound of Elwin, Dianna's owl, clattering down his chimney. Of course, he
didn't know it was Elwin until he saw him, but he'd expected it sometime soon.

*Dear Harry,*

*I miss you. Why don't you write to me? I'm ashamed to act like a lost puppy with you,
but I love you, you know.* *Being away from you this week has taught me that. But your silence
scares me. I'll be back Thursday late. I'll come directly to the hut. See you then.*

*Love, Dianna*

Harry was glad she'd be home soon. It would give him a chance to clear his mind from the
awful thing he knew he needed to do. He felt sad that he'd joked about having sex with her
before he dumped her. She was a sweet girl who was lucky he hadn't treated her as a sex object.
She could hate him for a lot of things, but that wouldn't be one of them.

Thursday evening was a nervous one for Harry. He'd briefly mentioned it to Marlie and she
told him to be firm and not be surprised if she begged him and pleaded. She'd even told him of
her first boyfriend and how humiliated she'd been when she realized how pathetic she'd
been. He'd been through it before, but he'd given in to the one last romp on more than one
occasion and maybe that was the reason for some of the vitriolic stories that circulated about him.
He realized now he probably earned more of his reputation than he wanted to admit.

He made sure that he had books and papers on the bed and that the place was more messy than
usual. She wasn't a witch, so, cleaning by magic wasn't an option. If she wanted to try to
seduce him, she would have clear off the bed, put up with dirty dishes, and clothes strewn on the
couch. He felt bad that he'd actually created this mess on purpose. He didn't want to make
her feel comfortable here at all. He didn't like what he was doing but he knew it was the right
thing.

He heard the knock at his door around ten o'clock. He opened the door. He knew this was
going to be harder than he'd planned but not for the same reason. Colin and Dennis were with
her. “Heya, Harry,” they said. Harry felt horrible because now he looked like an absolute slob.

“Hi, Sweetheart. I see you've missed me cleaning for you,” she said giving him an innocent
kiss on the cheek in front of her brothers.

“Geez, Harry. My apartment is messy but nothing like this squalor, mate,” said Dennis.

“What happened to your hand, Harry?” asked Dianna a second later.

The injury to his hand was hard to see now, but someone who was close would notice the
difference. He explained what happened and left it at that. “So, it's just now getting
better.”

She kissed his palm. “I hope that makes it even better,” she said with a wink.

Harry's chest hurt. She was a really nice girl. It was going to be hard to say anything and
this kind of thing was going to make it worse. “Let me just tidy things up a bit,” she said.

Colin must have noticed something in his manner or expression. “Dianna, sometimes bachelors let
things get like this because we like to rebel against that woman's touch thing,” he
laughed.

“Oh, don't be silly. He could die from ungodly…I don't know what in here,” said Dianna.
Dennis was playing with Fang near the sofa.

“Harry, can I have a word?” requested Colin as he stepped toward the door.

He stepped out to the clanging of pots and pans in his little kitchen. The three of them had
arrived wearing jackets and when he stepped out he knew why. The Creeveys had brought Dianna by
broomstick from the gate. It was chilly at this hour and he folded his arms because of it.

“Harry, this is awkward for me, mate. I didn't expect to find the place like this. As a
matter of fact, I expected the opposite,” he said.

Harry stood looking out toward the open grass between the hut and the forest only briefly
turning to acknowledge Colin's comment.

“I judge from your silence that something is going on, but what I'm not sure. I suppose I
might just as well get to the point,” he said with a sigh. “Harry, Dennis and I know your
reputation and how my sister acts with her boyfriends. Mate, I don't want to make this like
pulling teeth, help me out here.”

Harry knew the direction he was going but not the destination. The last thing he wanted was a
scene with two legal-age wizards in front of their sister. But he had nothing to be ashamed of, so
he'd start there. “Colin, I have nothing to be ashamed of with Dianna. I can't say that
about a lot of other girls I've known. So, I really need you to tell me what you want to talk
about.”

“Huh,” said Colin as though shocked but not upset by Harry's reaction. “She's not afraid
to use her sexuality to trap a guy, Harry. That's why we always stay close. I think it's
the all-girls school environment. If you don't grow up around the opposite sex it becomes kind
of the forbidden fruit thing. Since her mother died it's been difficult. I'd be lying if I
said I didn't expect to find a little love nest set up tonight. That's why I'm
asking.”

“I didn't send her owls for a reason, Colin. I don't want to lead her on anymore.
She's young and adorable, but I couldn't do the same to her for a lot of reasons. I know
you are around a lot is one.” Harry sort of smirked and said, “Good job with that.”

“Right, I get your point,” said Colin with an anxious smile.

“I'm learning a lot about what I want and it seems that I'm realizing my feelings for
Hermione more and more each time I see her. I messed up the house tonight so that it wouldn't
be appealing for her to--how did you put it?” Harry tried to not say it, but put it in Colin's
own words.

“Okay, I got that too. So, you were going to break up with her tonight if she'd come alone,”
said Colin.

“Yes, I was. I wanted to be kind, but I know how a lot of girls think they can change a guy if
they can just get another chance. I was prepared to tell her to stop and just get out. I
wouldn't do that unless I had to do it though,” said Harry.

“You would have,” said Colin. “I appreciate your honesty and I'm actually glad. I didn't
like the idea of you with my sister, but I respect you and I hoped you respected me. Which, in a
twisted sort of way, I think you do. I have an idea. It's a bit cruel but she'll
leave.”

Harry listened as it only took a minute or two to see it was the best thing. He felt sick
because it was going to be a shock and probably pretty tearful.

“Hey, Di sweetie, make sure you clean up good around here,” said Colin. “Harry's going to be
having Hermione down for dinner Saturday night.”

She stopped for a second and then kept washing the dishes. “I know you're taking the Mickey
out of me Colin. It's not funny.”

“I'm not, Di. I think Harry could use some help with his hand like it is,” he said taking
off his coat and picking up some the books on the couch. “It's hard to have a romantic dinner
with a mess like this.”

“You're lying. I know you don't want me and Harry to be together so you've concocted
this story. Harry don't go along with this,” said Dianna. She looked at Colin.

“Well, if that's true then just use magic,” said Dianna.

“Scourgify,” said Colin. “Have it your way. I was trying to give Harry time to explain, but now
that the place is cleaned up I think we can go.”

Dennis was sitting on the floor with Fang getting a good old fashioned slobbering. He
couldn't figure out what was going on and seemed like he was going to laugh at a joke.

“Dennis?” said Colin motioning to his stunned brother still rubbing Fang's ears. Dennis
didn't question his brother out of habit, Harry guessed.

“Er, yeah, okay,” said Dennis. “See yah, Harry.”

“We'll be just outside Dianna when you're done,” said Colin coldly.

“I can't believe you just let my brother do your dirty work,” said Dianna. “That was
gutless. And, I can't believe you would have let me clean your house so you could bring
Hermione down here for one of your shagging sessions.”

Harry's ears burned. He knew she'd be mad but he hadn't really had time to say
anything in this exchange. “Dianna, why didn't I write? I didn't even send an owl to see if
you were having fun. It's not that I don't care, but I don't want to lead you on. I
could have let you clean, but instead of pretending when Colin asked me how I felt, I told him the
truth.”

“You're lying. If I was older or a witch, you would be different with me I know,” said
Dianna as the tears started rolling. “Dennis warned me that you liked witches more than squibs and
muggles.”

“Dianna, I didn't do to you what I've done to almost every girl in every other
relationship I've had. I didn't leave you feeling used. I'm sorry if you feel that I
didn't give you a chance. If I had, you'd feel like I didn't care about you except for
sex. And, that's not true,” said Harry. “You won't hate me when you realize I didn't
dump you for some stupid conquest. It's because I think I've been blind for too long and I
apologize for that. You can hate me now, but you'll get it someday.”

Dianna wiped the tears from her eyes and threw the dish towel at him. “Don't bet on it,” she
said storming out. “Colin, you're dead for doing that to me. I swear.” The crying outside his
door lasted for twenty minutes. He knew that he deserved to hear it. The reaction had probably
played out before, but with much more anger instead of sadness. He wasn't happy, but he
wasn't stupid either. Colin had done it in a way that would shut her down and hate him more
than Harry for the moment. But Colin could survive it and Dianna would get over it.

The next day and Saturday were long for Harry. The only productive thing he did was get money
exchanged at Gringott's. He'd said three words to Hermione all week. Well, he laughed at
the thought, one word—three times. “Hi.” He was putting his broomstick back in the closet from the
school Quidditch practices, when an owl clattered against his window. Still sweaty, he took a towel
wiped his face and went to the door.

The owl came in and sat on Hedwig's empty cage. He let Hedwig out to go to the owlery almost
all the time now that he lived at Hogwarts. He was surprised to see another owl besides her
carrying a message to him.

*Dear Harry,*

*Borrowed Marlie's owl, Hedwig is Mata* *H**ari, I know it. (I'm laughing my
bum off at the thought by the way).*

*Anyway, send me an owl in reply. My flat eight o'clock. I'm not cooking this time so
be ready to feed me. (Yum, Yum) Be imaginative now. I am. (hehe)*

*Get your mind out of the gutter boy.*

*See yah,*

*Love and Friendship Always,*

*Hermione*

-->



6. The Gentleman and the Lady
-----------------------------



The Gentleman and The Lady—Chapter 6

Harry read it twice trying to figure out what the Mata Hari reference could be. That threw him
for a loop. Of course, if Hermione was getting help from an Oxford educated psychology student, it
could just be a mind game. But he liked that she thought it was funny.

Harry sent the owl back straight away with a simple reply. “Eight o'clock, be ready for a
feast.” He didn't sign it or use names. He now had only a few hours to figure out where the
world he was taking her. He didn't expect that they'd go out without eating first and none
of the places in Hogsmeade would qualify as imaginative. Was her little get your mind out the
gutter comment a reference to oral sex? He shook his knowing it was by her next line. “Get your
mind out of the gutter boy.” Takes one to know one he thought as he realized she had to be just as
sexually deviant as he to read between the lines of a comment as innocent as `be ready to feed
me'. Ooh, let the games begin. He was impressed that she had his mind reeling without one
sexual word or phrase. He even considered that maybe she was talking about feeding her something
like grapes or strawberries in a very non-sexual but erotic way. Well, only time would tell.

It was a different feeling, he thought, as he dressed. He had nice shoes and the linen slacks
were light and airy as opposed to denim which was heavy and hot. His silky seaweed-colored shirt
and neutral colored jacket made him look a lot different than she'd ever seen him before. Then
he thought about his glasses. He was horrible about keeping them clean. Hermione was forever
cleaning them or fixing them for him. He cleaned them now.

It was five-thirty and he felt sure that he could get to London make a reservation and Apparate
at her door in time to make this work. He knew flowers didn't show a lot of flair but a
handshake was a lot worse alternative. Unless, he thought….

He got to Hermione's door right at three minute before eight and knocked. He felt uneasy but
he knew that would soon pass when he saw her. He looked good and for the past half-hour he was sure
she could be wearing a potato sack and look good. He was excited in a different way this time.

“Hi, Harry. Good timing. I was just putting the last of the dishes away,” she said.

He pulled out his gift for her from behind his back. He had thought of it earlier and he was
glad it worked out. He had a half-dozen roses and the biggest heart-shaped lollipop they could make
in two and a half hours at Honeydukes. “Hi, Hermione. I missed you.”

She smiled and covered her mouth. Her eyes were wide with excitement. He knew he'd passed
stage one with flying colors when she took them both raced into the house put them on the table ran
back to him and threw her arms around his neck. “You remembered to feed me!” She hugged him in such
a way that he felt her pressed against him in a completely new way. And, it wasn't a bad
feeling at all.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Hermione said a minute later with a look of pure joy on her
face. “First, for being on time. Second, for surprising me so nicely. Third, for looking so
handsome tonight.” She started to turn away. Then turned back. “Thank you. That's for being
such a great guy.”

Suddenly, Harry didn't want to Disapparate to anywhere. He wanted to walk with her, but he
forced himself to remember that they'd been there and done that on this street and it would get
old the first time someone that knew them started poking fun. Regardless of what they said, that
was not something either of them wanted tonight.

He stepped back and let her close the door and offered her his arm. She looked at him for a
second and took it. He just looked at her for several seconds as they walked. He was trying
something he'd thought about all afternoon. He really didn't like taking his eyes off of
her sometimes, so he was drinking in every expression. “Is everything okay, Harry?”

“I just don't want to forget the smile on your face when I saw you. You're really pretty
tonight,” he said.

She blushed and walked along for a moment still holding his arm in silence. Harry stopped under
a lamppost. “Okay, we're going to London for dinner. Have you got a good grip?”

“Yep, you bet I'm not letting go of you easily,” she said with a smile. “POP!” They
disappeared from the Main Street in Hogwarts.

Harry picked a shadowy area not too far from the taxi queue he'd seen a few nights before.
He picked it because the street noises would probably hide the sound of them Apparating and it was
a short walk to the restaurant.

He hoped that he hadn't set himself up for failure by being so flashy at her flat. He
didn't have anymore tricks up his sleeve for the rest of the night. She'd put on a very
nice satine dress that clung to her hips. He was glad for the thin long coat she put on over it for
the chill in the air. He found himself wanting to look at her bum more than once. He'd seen her
in jeans and dressed very nicely before, but she wasn't fifteen at the Yule Ball anymore. What
was a promising figure then had blossomed into full womanhood now. He asked himself if this was
because she was dressed differently or his perception of her was different. He knew it was probably
a bit of both.

The crossed the road arm-in-arm. “Harry, this is nice. I like the excitement already. I mean the
city and people. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade are kind of lazy towns. This is bright even at night.”

She was right. It did a lot for their mood as she passed the storefronts. At one point he'd
felt a little hesitation. Had he been holding her hand he would have gotten to far ahead. The way
they were walking he felt her slowing both by the turn of her head and the angle she walked. He
stopped. “Something catch your eye?”

“Yeah, us,” she said with a smile. “We look brilliant together.” She'd looked over several
times before but this was the first time she'd stopped. The long window went to the sidewalk
and the background allowed their reflection to look almost lifelike.

“Well, that's all you looking brilliant. I'm just a frog waiting to be kissed by his
princess,” he laughed.

She turned to him slowly and unexpectedly. She put her hand softly to his cheek and kissed him.
This wasn't a “*oh, I guess people kiss when they like each other way**”* of the past
Sunday; but a *“**full-mouthed feel my lips until your* *heart and groin ache with
desire”* kind of way. If he hadn't know better he'd have screamed “yahoo”.

He put his hands inside the jacket, softly touching her hips and her hands held his shoulders.
He wasn't sure when he'd ever kissed anyone where the soul purpose was the pleasure of
feeling their lips and feeling their sweet breath. He felt her sexiness in his loins, but he wanted
this right now and nothing more. She stepped back and wiped the lipstick of his lips. “I've
wanted to do that for four days,” she said. “It was worth the wait. I couldn't keep walking
with this green frog. I had to have my prince.”

He wasn't sure they could sustain this kind of excitement all night without finding a hotel
or getting arrested. But he knew it was special and he liked it. “I'm not sure I've ever
been kissed like that,” he said. He hoped it didn't sound stupid, but it was true. When desire
was mixed in with all the other emotions he felt for her it had been different.

“If you're going to keep saying what I'm thinking, we might as well just stare at each
other and never say another word,” she said with a smile. They resumed walking without a word.

He turned and looked at her every seven or eight steps though. In between, he felt her eyes on
him. He knew they would talk about it when the sat down in a few minutes. They arrived in front of
the restaurant just before nine. He had planned to walk with her and talk, but what had happened
made so much more sense. He laughed out loud.

“What Harry?” she asked.

He told her what he'd just thought and she smiled. “I loved the walk without talking Harry.
I just like being with you. The kiss happened because…well, it happened because you were a frog and
I needed my prince.” She giggled again and he laughed at her playfulness.

“Party of two, Potter,” said the maitre d'. “Non-smoking, away from the bar, Sir,
correct?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Harry. Hermione was watching him as he walked slowly and let her go
before him. He held her chair and slid her in nicely, making sure she was close but not too close.
“I love you,” he said almost choking on the emotion. He felt like such a wimp for a second, but he
cleared his throat and maintained his composure.

Hermione hadn't faired so well. She had that `what did you do that for' look. The tears
threatened to mess up her make-up. She was able to get a little bit of control back and said, “Damn
you, Harry. You're going to have me crying before we get to dessert.”

“Hate to break this too you, but you didn't make it to cocktails,” he said with a smile.
“But neither did I so we're even.” He sniffed a bit.

“Wow, I don't think either of us was prepared for this,” said Hermione. “I'm not letting
you get lucky, Harry. You owe me two or three more of these dates first.” She giggled.

“Well, I have to tell you about my new best friend then,” he teased and raised his hand flexing
his fingers turning slightly pink.

Hermione looked around to make sure she wasn't overheard. “That doesn't mean I can't
let you see what you're missing,” she winked. “You know, just to do my part to promote that
friendship.”

“You're being a little minx tonight aren't you?” he said kidding. “Okay, so who is Mata
Hari?”

“I remembered the old movie about the World War II stripper who was a double-agent for the
Allies and the Germans and it just thought it was funny,” she giggled. “That's all. A little
more imagery of Hedwig carrying secrets to the male enemy.”

“The enemy?” gasped Harry. “What?” He said playfully.

“I'll save the explanation for pillow talk sometime, promise,” said Hermione.

Harry raised his arm as though calling the waiter whispering, “Check please!” When the waiter
did come he paused for effect the lady and said, “The lady has asked me to get her drunk on your
finest wine.” The waiter smiled as if he knew Harry was being cute.

“Sir? Would you like to see the wine list?” he answered repressing a laugh of his own.

Hermione was doing her best not to show any cheek toward Harry with the waiter present and the
effect was quite amusing. “Yes, please.”

“Harry, that was rotten,” she said with grin. “You nearly embarrassed me.”

“Hey, we have a long way to go remember?” he said with an uneasy laugh.

“Yes, we do and you may get to know your best friend better than you think,” she said with a
wink. “Since we're playing this game, I'm sure you gave your friend a name?”

“Let me think about that one, there are a couple of obvious ones that aren't really
original,” he shot back.

“Well, humor me with an example,” she egged.

“Rosey Palm. And, as long as she brings her five sisters, my dance card is full,” he smiled
smugly.

“Oh my God, you are a…” she lowered her eyes and looked at the napkin on the table. She was
laughing and trying to suppress it at the same time. “You are a very sick individual. Why
didn't I know you could be that funny and sick too?”

“I don't know. Maybe I've had too much time alone on the farm and no one to talk to,” he
said.

“Baloney, but that's your story and I'm sure you're sticking to it. I would if I
ever wanted some play from me,” she said with a grin.

He changed the subject. He could see that the whole sexual innuendo thing would die a horrible
death soon if they continued. A good plan was to save it for another time when they needed an ice
breaker. “So, I saw you putting the linens up on the shelves. I'll bet you give Dobby and Winky
fits when you do that.”

She smiled. “Yes, it does vex them a little, but I figure they'll get over it. Besides, they
put things up there by magic and I have to get it down. I can put the stuff where it's more
convenient to get at.”

“Just tell them how it works best. They live for making people happy,” said Harry.

“I know. It just makes me sad that there is a whole species of creature that derives pleasure
from slavery,” said Hermione. “They don't even know it.”

“I don't want to ruin the night, but it's not slavery, Hermione. Slavery is when someone
has dreams and desires that are being lost because they have no free will. These creatures are
slaves when they are forced to live in our world.” Harry said sadly. “But I love you for your
devotion to them. You have your opinion on that and I have mine.”

“Well, I like the way you explain it better than the way other people do. They act as if I'm
crazy. If only they could pick their masters instead of the other way around. Then mean people like
the Malfoys could never have had house-elves to begin with,” she said quietly.

Harry had never considered that argument. Hermione was intelligent. It was only a matter of
time, he felt, and she would find an argument that would change things to some degree. She was also
determined which he found vexing at times. Smiling at the thought of the word she'd just
used.

“So what else did you do this week?” he asked her.

“Well, you've seen my dress,” she said. “I made it myself. I always wanted to do something
nice and I found someone to help me with a pattern. I had to do the ruffles by magic though which
was a bit of a disappointment.”

Harry was impressed. She had to have some help for sure she could not have tailored the bodice
and skirt to fit that well by herself. It was perfect and she looked wonderful. “I think I told you
that you look wonderful, but your dress is just the sexiest thing I've ever seen on you,” he
said with no cheek in his voice. He wanted it to be a sincere compliment about her style and body
not a crude one.

“Wow, that's a nice thing to say. Okay, the points are heading toward keeping Rosey and her
sisters on the sidelines at the dance. There is still a long way to go before the last dance
though,” she smiled kindly.

“You are so cute when you smile I can't go without saying it one more minute,” he said.

“What did you do except try to kill Rosey at the hut this week?” she said trying to deflect
another compliment that kept her face pink with embarrassment. .

He laughed and told her a bit about talking to Marlie and only a minute or so about the
disjointed flashbacks to the last night in the Ministry. Mostly he told her about buying his
clothes.

“Marlie is one really good friend,” said Hermione. “She told me you talked but she refused to
say what you talked about. Just so you know. That's why I respect her. She told me that she
spilled the beans on me a little, but she said that was the last time. I haven't had a lot of
really good female friends over the years for obvious reasons.”

“Takes a bit of getting used to though, that one,” said Harry as the waiter brought back the
Wine List. He asked, “Recommendations?”

“The house wine is very fine choice, Sir,” said the waiter sparing Harry the embarrassment of
getting a wine lesson.

“That would be great then, thank you,” he said with a deep breath followed by slow steady
expulsion of air to relieve the tension.

“Why are you so tense, Harry?” Hermione asked. “I don't want you to think it bothers me, but
I want to make sure that goofing around like we have hasn't gone beyond acceptable limits and
made you feel uncomfortable.”

“Can I answer your question with a question?” he asked. “Which I suppose is a stupid thing to
ask since by asking that question I've already done it. You have rocked my world Hermione.”

“In a good way, I hope,” she said. “I gather that wasn't the question?”

“Well, I just want to know if you asked me that because I've gone too far with it and it
bothers you?” he asked.

She adjusted her napkin on the table. “Harry, there is no way to overdo something with you in my
life. But, I really liked the softness of being quieter and subtler more than the randy talk. When
you said the thing about the prince, I was ready for you to take me to a hotel right then. I had
built up so much sexual energy thinking about kissing you all week. I really want us to push the
limits of our ability to say no, Harry. I know that sounds terrible.”

Harry waited for moment to make sure she'd finished. “I wasn't exaggerating about the
power I felt when we kissed,” he admitted. “We let that moment pass. If we wait and let one of
those build again when we are in a position to act on it, it will be the way we want it I
think.”

“We'll have lots of them I think, Harry. They're not hard to find if you're with the
right person,” she reached across and caressed his hand.

He was going to mention the book that talked about sensual physical contact but knew she was a
master at it. He could learn that from her. There was warmth to her touch that made it sexy,
passionate and loving all in one simple act. “I like when you touch me like that Hermione. It's
such a simple thing, but we haven't done it before the other day outside of the Hospital Wing.
I didn't have an explanation for wanting to see you there until just now.”

“One thing you can expect is more of it then. I don't want you hurting yourself
subconsciously to feel what I'd freely give you,” she said smiling with a kindness in her eyes
Harry knew was for him—and him only.

“Do I do anything that just makes you feel all warm inside when you're with me?” he
asked.

“Yours are a little more subtle as you can imagine Harry,” she said as he noticed that the
waiter was back for the salad and soup order. “Hold that thought.”

“Sir, Madame. Would the gentleman or the lady care for an appetizer, soup or salad?” asked the
waiter.

Hermione winked at Harry. “I'm having my appetizer right here, but a Caesar salad would go
well with him,” she said playfully. The waiter smiled. “Yes, my lady very well said.”

“And for the gentleman, would a sweet vinaigrette be in order?” he asked.

Harry looked to Hermione for approval. She smiled. “That would be fine, thank you.”

“Very Well, Sir, my lady,” he said.

Harry wasn't sure what just happened but Hermione smiled from ear to ear. “When we make love
the first time,” she whispered. “It will be the experience of a lifetime, I know it. I'm not
sure I want this dinner to end though. You're such a gentleman.”

Harry blushed. In a flash of an instant, he felt fear for that moment. He wanted her to feel
loved, but he wanted to feel power and tear her apart exploring every part of her. How would he be
able to have both? He didn't want any sissy stuff but he wasn't willing to do anything that
wouldn't make her happy. Well, he realized he had a subject for another conversation at another
time.

“Do you want to hear what you do that turns me on?” she said suggestively.

He knew his expression at that moment was embarrassing. He winced at the pain of the arousal her
words generated. She giggled in a moment of understanding of what the look on his face was. “That
was one of them,” she said with a soft caress of his hand.

“Harry, you make me feel so alive. Your eyes burn straight to my soul. You can make me happy
inside by just looking at me. I was aroused by the way you wouldn't look away from me as we
left my flat. I saw desire in your eyes. I've seen it before, but I saw my lover then. And
again when we looked in that window tonight,” she said. “Oh, there will be plenty of moments
don't you worry. I'm sure of it.”

He realized that they had achieved at this moment what that couple experienced at the taxi queue
two nights earlier. But that couple was at the next level. They already knew what he and Hermione
had to talk out. They knew how to drive each other wild with a look and laughter. He and Hermione
had a way to go, but Harry was starting to think the road was shorter than they told each other. It
wasn't a race to get there either. The finish line was when they had their grandchildren and
kids sitting wherever that dream took them.

“Harry, are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I have one of those pillow talk things too now I think,” he said with a grin.

“Cool, well, I'm starved and here's the salad,” she said with a wink.

Harry would have thought they were so carried away that the bottles of wine would have come by
the truck load, but they sipped it and still had half a bottle of wine leftover by dessert.
They'd talked a little but mostly they looked at one another in blissful silence. He suddenly
had a desire to become an avid reader of those self-help books, but he knew it was a crutch. He and
Hermione could write one if they just listened to their hearts.

“So, are you well fed?” he asked suggestively when she'd put her fork across her plate.

“Mind, body and soul, Harry. Couldn't eat another bite,” she giggled. “Why does that feel
like a lie?” She touched his hand. “Be back in a jiff.”

He watched her walk away. The curve of her shoulders to the lithe lines of her waist was an
image that filled him with a desire he knew was raw and exciting. But her hips and bum making the
fringe of her skirt sway as she moved made him have to turn away. He had seen other guys ogle a
girl like that and he was self-conscious not to embarrass himself or her like that.

He smiled at the lady and gentleman two tables away that seemed to get what he'd seen the
people at the queue had gotten. They smiled at one another as though the love between himself and
Hermione had infected them as well.

He wondered what planet he'd lived on before this week. Had everyone else been just visiting
him and Hermione in their little clueless world up until now? Had someone else tasted the sweetness
that he saw in her? He wasn't disgusted by the thought, because somehow he knew that Hermione
wasn't getting the same man the other women in his life had had. He knew he wouldn't get
the same woman that any man who might have been with her had either. Was there a time to ask? Was
there a way to ask what it was like when she felt aroused? Could he tell her what pleased him
without feeling that he was asking her to be a sex object? He'd known that feeling. He'd
asked girls to do things to please him and didn't care if they objected. It was different now.
It was something he wanted to explore not demand.

She was returning. He looked at the fall of her hair around her face and the way she carried her
arms at her sides so gracefully. The soft skin of her neck plunged sweetly to the not large, but
ample cleavage of her breasts. She was one of those women he found to be beautiful in a portrait
sort of way. He was the type woman who could be painted in the classic corset or as a nude with her
hair flowing about her breasts only revealing what was necessary to suggest her femininity. He
wondered how he could think this way and have looked at any other woman and say to himself, “Nice
tits!” He smiled inside never losing the first description when he looked at her.

“Wow, now I'm full,” he said as he took her hand and led her to her seat. He kissed sweetly
on the cheek.

“Just now, what else did you have?” she asked in puzzlement.

“I just had a wonderfully fulfilling feast for the eyes,” he said.

She blushed. “You're full of…shall we say, bull droppings…” she laughed. “Thank you, Harry.
I'm sorry for saying that. It's such a sweet compliment I think felt uncomfortable for a
second and resorted to making a joke.”

“Well, just know it's true. Okay?” he said with a smile.

“I want to walk to the Thames, Harry.” She said emphatically. “I just want to walk and enjoy the
nice night with you.”

“Well, let's do it then,” he said. He subtly motioned for the waiter. “The check,
please.”

Harry and Hermione set off in the wrong direction at first and walked for twenty minutes. When
they realized their mistake, they laughed that if they'd been on a date with anyone else there
would have been a little tiff. But they were so wrapped up in chatting and stopping for a little
snog, here and there that they eventually agreed that if they got to the Thames by next Saturday
they'd be satisfied.

“Harry, I want to remember this night as the night we fell in love, not the night we screwed
each other's brains out for the first time,” said Hermione.

“As contrary to little Harry's pleas as that notion is, I have to agree,” said Harry.
“I'd be so afraid to go nuts on you and ruin it that I really need to make sure that I know my
hat from my shoe. You've got me all turned `round like that you know.”

“That's sweet, Harry. And, another thing: Tonight you've made me laugh from the pit of
my stomach and cry from my soul. It's just too—I hate to say it—magical.” They hugged the way
he'd always hoped a hug would be. It was light and airy and cheek to cheek. They weren't
holding on for dear life any more. There was no fear of letting something come between them. If
someone tried to come between them, they stop and kick that person's arse together and laugh at
the person's misfortune. He felt strange. It was as if they looked forward to letting go so
they could enjoy the pleasure that came with coming together again.

“Hermione, you know, I already look forward to seeing you again and you're still here,” he
said out of the blue.

“I think that's what happens when you know it is right Harry. You know the other cliché
don't you? It's actually a cliché about being a cliché. Here it is: `It isn't called a
cliché for nothing.' A true cliché is so true it's self-evident,” explained Hermione.

Harry wasn't sure what the hell she just said, but he knew of a new way of saying it.
“Here's new way of saying it,” he said with a huge pregnant pause.

“Well? Are you going to share it with me?” asked Hermione.

“But it's so obvious, what I'm going to say,” said Harry laughing. “It's:”

“Harry loves Hermione and Hermione loves Harry.”

She smiled and kissed him. The rubbed noses and looked in each other's eyes standing in
their original destination overlooking the Thames.

-->



7. Home Sweet Home
------------------



Home Sweet Home—Chapter 7

“Isn't it beautiful?” commented Hermione referring to the skyline along the Thames.

“It is. And, it's such a beautiful night too,” said Harry. “This has been just a great night
all the way around.”

“Yeah, there were times I was afraid we were trying to hard and acting like people we're
not. But together we seem to be different. Does that make sense?” inquired Hermione.

“It does I suppose. I know I feel freer to do silly things with you than with anyone else,” said
Harry. “I really am sorry if my sense of humor gets creepy.”

“Harry, it would be really creepy if I didn't practically grow up with you.” They'd
found a spot to sit and got as close as they could get to stay warm. “Do you miss him?”

“Yeah, a lot. I thought of him a lot last Sunday night. It sort of made me relive that night. It
was really hard. Sometimes I come to see you without an excuse when I think of him and that night,”
revealed Harry.

“Really? I'm surprised I didn't notice you being upset,” she admitted.

“That's why I came to see you. It's the way I get through it. You calm me, even when I
feel excited like now, the overall effect is calming,” he said.

Her hand touched his once more in a way that Harry welcomed. He adjusted his glasses with other
hand and looked off into the sky. He sighed with satisfaction.

“That was a long sigh,” said Hermione. “Mind of I ask what you're thinking.”

“Nothing really. I was just clearing my mind and enjoying your hand on mine,” he replied.

“We aren't as far from being a couple as we think are we?” she asked.

He laughed at the thought. It was a typical guy thing to assume a relationship without asking.
“I've told people you're my girlfriend already, Hermione. I suppose I should ask you to
make it official. Will you see me and no one else? I don't want to see anyone else but
you.”

He couldn't read her expression. It was dark and she had dark eyes. She didn't look
right at him for the first time all night. Surely she couldn't be thinking about it. He felt a
nervous excitement growing.

“I haven't seen anyone in a long time, Harry. I really haven't wanted to at all.
I've waited to hear those words…well, words similar anyway…” He noticed the tears for the first
time as she giggled through them. “I was saying I wanted to hear you say that for a long time. Of
course, Harry,” she answered.

He wondered if guilt was the right way to explain the way he felt about her reaction. He
wasn't happy that he'd been blind to her feelings for him, but it had taken a long time to
see it from his perspective. He'd probably hurt her unknowingly with other girls plenty of
times. How could he have not seen that?

“You know I don't deserve you,” said Harry. “I've not been a very good friend if I
didn't see your feelings for me.”

“I learned long ago with you that you were a mystery for girls. One would like you and
practically lay down in the mud for you to keep you shoes clean and you'd walk around her.
Another would run away and you'd chase her. And, still another would give you whatever you
wanted and you'd take it until you had enough and let her go,” said Hermione.

“Wow, that's not a résumé I'm putting in my scrap book,” said Harry. “I feel like a
complete prat.”

“You shouldn't though Harry. I saw it only because of our friendship and I understood that
someone like you needed a lot of different things that one person wouldn't be able to give you
until you decided what you wanted in life,” said Hermione. “We needed the same kind of validation,
but I didn't find physical intimacy as the answer. And, even though you chose that as a means
of validation for a long time, I think you realized it wasn't really the answer.”

“So, have you been intimate with someone before?” he asked. He felt a sense of anxiety for a
brief second but tried to remember she was here now just as he was. That was the past, but it was
important for going forward.

“At this moment, I wish I could say no,” she said with a very slight note of remorse in her
voice. “But the two times I have will have taught me how much I will value being with you when we
are together.” She looked for his reaction.

He tried not to show his anguish, because it wasn't about whether she had been with another
man. It was that he knew she had counted correctly. She wasn't hiding that she had sex ten
times with two guys and saying it was twice. He had been with that many girls in the last four
months. It made him sick that she had to think of that about him.

“Can you forgive me for being so morally bankrupt Hermione?” asked Harry knowing now that guilt
was the right feeling until he'd confessed to her.

“Exactly what am I forgiving you for?” she asked. “If you had promised me anything I'd be
able to forgive, but it's not my place to judge you Harry. If I had judged you, I wouldn't
be here touching you right now.”

“You know I used to cringe at the thought of someone like me being with you,” he admitted. “I
had to think of something else fast because I was sick about it.”

She started to answer. “Please let me finish,” said Harry. “I wanted you to be some sort of nun
or a saint or something. But I realized that I had no grounds to judge you either. I cared for you
and that was that. I just didn't let myself think of it that way. Jokes were my way of passing
it off.”

“The second time Harry was payback and I realized you didn't even notice,” said
Hermione.

“Payback?” asked Harry.

“You remember a night where we met at the Three Broomsticks and each of us was approached by
someone. It was like our second time out since I'd come back to Hogwarts.” Hermione seemed to
not like telling the story but she was anyway.

“Well, anyway, like I've said in a different way before. You've never found a pair of
knickers you wouldn't like to get inside. So you kind of paired off with her and left me with
this guy. He was cute and not really that aggressive but he made his intentions clear.” She paused
a moment.

“Well, I got kind of agitated that I was left with this guy when I wanted to be there with you.
But seeing you pawing at that bimbo… Sorry for putting it that way, but you were pawing at that
bimbo and obviously settling in for the kill. Stupid me. I thought. If Harry sees me snogging with
another guy, he'll pay attention. When you didn't I just decided that I'd enjoy it
while it was there to be had. I'd gone that far why not the rest of the way.”

“That was the only time I let myself be seduced simply for pleasure with someone I just met.
That would never happen again and it hasn't. I'm not complaining. It wasn't horrible,
but it wasn't very flattering to think the guy might have moved over to the girl next to me if
I'd said no.”

“If you take a moment I think you can guess who the first was by how often he comes around still
asking me to marry him,” she said. “I regret that I'd allowed myself to think that sweet talk
was romance. I don't regret making love to him. But I regret that I didn't know why I was
doing it.”

Harry knew who, but when was not important. Whether it was at Hogwarts during the year of the
Triwizard Tournament or after the Great War, it was a lesson to be learned. She was always smarter
than him and only took two mistakes to learn the lesson. He had to make the same one over and over
to learn the same thing.

There was a long silence where they just cuddled in spite of the revelations that caused their
uneasiness. Harry loved her now as much as ever before, but a profession at this moment might sound
like he was patronizing her or having pity that she'd not enjoyed sex as much as he had. But he
wouldn't let the night end without telling her.

“Harry, do you really want me to move down to the hut with you? Or, was that just a Jagermeister
moment?” she giggled.

“Yes I do. And as far as that goes, I could say it was the Jagermeister but we didn't drink
that stuff until after I asked you. It was your reaction that made me feel like getting drunk,” he
admitted. “It wasn't what you said. It was that I felt so embarrassed that I made you say
it.”

“I don't remember what you mean. Oh,” she said with a tone of recollection. “I wasn't to
keen on your menagerie. I said something about the spiders and snakes.”

“Well, that and when I said I loved you. You sort of recoiled with something like see what
you've done. I never want to make you ashamed to be with me,” he said sadly.

She turned to him, put her hand to his face and smiled taking moment to kiss him before
answering. “Sweetheart, I wasn't embarrassed. I was downright shocked. I heard words that
we'd used playing around before that moment; now they were being used in a context that meant
you might really have feelings for me that I'd have to deal with. And, you were asking me to
deal with them while living in your house. So if you would have offered a third shot of
Jagermeister, I'd have drunk that too.” She laughed.

Harry smiled. “We were a little silly on Sunday though.”

“I don't think we did too badly though Harry. We were definitely off-the-wall. I give you
permission to give me hell if my mouth gets bad like that again,” said Hermione. “The `eff
bomb' was totally unnecessary. I don't like that word much and it's kind of sad that I
used it.”

“I thought for the moment it was funny and maybe even appropriate, but I follow you completely.
It's not the way you talk,” said Harry.

“I've said stuff over the last two days we've been together that I'll be shocked I
ever said,” said Hermione. “Most was tongue in cheek, but I'd rather not be like that too
often. We fell in love without that kind of talk and we don't really need it.”

Harry thought about that for a moment. “Do you mean all of it?”

“Playing around is cool, but…” she stopped. “You know what? I want to be proper and all that but
it is kind of fun to try to find a way of saying something without saying it. It's just
unfamiliar territory, I guess.”

“Whew, I was worried that you had second thoughts about some of the funnier parts of the night,”
said Harry. “You and I could be writers for Marlie's act.” He laughed.

“I'll bet we could,” she giggled. “Do you think we should be heading back toward the flat?
It's two o'clock.”

“Sure. Will you be inviting me in?” asked Harry.

“Yes, and I expect you to be on your best behavior,” she said coyly. “I'm not sure this is
the best idea, but we have to start somewhere.”

“Meaning?” asked Harry.

“We need to learn to trust ourselves together. We said we wouldn't force the issue and we
can't stay in public forever. We just have to cool it,” she smiled. “Deal?”

“Yes ma'am,” he said feigning a salute.

They found a little shadowy area where they wouldn't be seen and Disapparated. Harry did
like her flat. Each time in it seemed like home. Not the structure, but her touch to the place. He
sat on the sofa and Crookshanks jumped in his lap not five seconds later.

“Yeah, if you get any ideas, he'll scratch the hell out of you, Harry,” warned Hermione so
keep your thoughts clean. She stepped out of her bathroom with her hair down completely. I know you
like to look at me in this dress but I don't want to sit around in it all night. It has to be
cleaned differently than my other things.” Her voice echoed from her partially opened door.

Crookshanks jumped down unexpectedly and scurried to a warm spot on the rug in the corner. Harry
could see Hermione through the crack in the door. He almost wanted to tell her, but she must have
known. He was surprised at how easily the dress came off as he watched. It was very stretchy around
the middle so she stretched it and pulled it over her head. Her slip was caught in it momentarily
revealing her soft legs and rounded bottom. Surely this was wrong “Hermione, I…”

The words barely escaped his mouth when something told him that she would have been mortified if
he acknowledged that he could see her. He realized that she probably didn't change clothes in
her flat alone with that door cracked because of the angle from the windows down the hall. This was
supposed to be one of those erotic moments that he sure would stop before it got too far.

“I just want to thank you for a wonderful time,” said Harry.

“Oh, well you're welcome but the night isn't over; we can still sit up and chat,” she
said as Harry felt the desire to just watch her.

She went out of sight for a second as Harry adjusted his position to release the strain growing
in his groin. He'd always wondered how men could pay to watch a woman take her clothes off
without getting sex or being touched. He felt wickedly aroused.

When she came back into view Harry knew that this was for his pleasure as well as hers. It
clicked in his head that she loved HIM to watch her. Her back was bare with the straps of her
brassiere dangling from the middle finger of her right hand trapped there to her ribs. The other
strap was trapped there by her elbow. As her left hand picked up her nightshirt, she let her bra
fall.

He wanted to touch himself but he couldn't there for the same reasons she'd have never
done this without him there—the window behind him. Her breasts were more perfect than he could have
imagined. The bra had pushed them up to form her cleavage but not so much as he'd thought it
might have. Her nipples were pinker than he'd imagined too. Before he realized it the shirt was
over her head and the vision gone. He was glad it was over.

His loins screamed for release and as he felt as if he couldn't take anymore. He did
something he'd never imagined. She turned away, lifted her nightshirt and pulled her knickers
down making certain that angle and distance left nothing to the imagination for one brief second.
“May I use your bathroom Hermione?” he asked with only one option left. He wasn't sure if he
heard a giggle but maybe he had. He moved as quickly as he could toward it still watching the door.
He saw her arm go through the heavy terrycloth bathrobe. She gave a sigh.

“Sure sweetie, make your self at home,” she said softly.

Harry emerged nearly ten minutes later hoping the pinkness in his face wouldn't give him
away. He almost wanted acknowledgement now that she'd done it on purpose because he'd never
had to ask Rosie to dance in someone else's loo. And certainly, it would never have happened in
a situation where the other option would have been available with a girl so close at hand.

She had her heart-shaped lollipop in her hand licking it suggestively when he came out. “Are you
still sure that coming here was such a good idea?” she giggled. “How ironic that I'd say it
just that way.” She beckoned him to sit next to her. “I think you're harmless now for at least
a little while. You know it's kind of like after a long dance where you get winded and
can't get up for another one.”

“YOU ARE WICKED!” he said in a loud whisper of a voice that surprisingly didn't embarrass
Hermione in the least. “And hot,” he moaned.

She smiled and opened her extra large robe for him to cuddle up inside it with her. “Well, you
know how I'm dressed and we still have our promise. But incidental contact is not
forbidden.”

The shirt covered her to just above the knee and her nipples were erect standing out in her own
arousal. “This is what they mean by an erotic moment. He kissed him and forced him to lie back
against the sofa pillows.”

He was breathing heavy and he knew it. Was she counting the day they fell in love as before
midnight and today was a new and exciting one? He was beginning to hope so. His hands roamed under
the robe and found the bottom of her nightshirt. Her flesh was as warm and inviting as he'd
ever know a woman's to be. He didn't dare utter a word allowing Hermione to choreograph
their dance now.

He expected a hand to grab his and stop him any moment. He slowly caressed her thigh moving
closer to her bum. He was getting aroused again. He knew she could feel it against her belly as he
kissed him. What had been long straight road now was a soft and supple hill. Did he dare? He
thought. Hermione moaned as both of his hands kneaded the flesh of her bottom. It was inevitable
that the incidental contact she'd mentioned caused a moan that started in her throat and
escaped into his mouth. She stopped only to say, “Does Rosy dance with girls too? Please say
yes.”

He hadn't expected her to be as verbal as he was. Her moans drove him mad. The soft warm and
moist folds of her flesh in and around his fingers was a gift from heaven. He'd never seen her
face like this. Their kisses would stop as she closed her eyes as his hand moved gently around her
seeking the points that brought the most reaction. Her eyes were closed and she bit her lip.
“Harry, there there.” He felt the spasms in her tummy. Her back arched and her legs clamped his
hand in place. A moment later she kissed him sweetly keeping his hand immobile.

“You're good at incidental contact and Rosy is a good dancer,” she smiled. “I love you
Harry. It's not the same as a heart-shaped lollipop but I'm not complaining.” She
giggled.

A soft hand began slowly undoing is belt. Her smile suggested that she wasn't finished with
the surprises. She'd unbuttoned his shirt as he'd touched her during the first few seconds
of their encounter as he'd fumbled his way around trying to figure out what planet he was on.
She kissed his chest as he felt her hand take him softly from his resting place. “Teach me,
Harry.”

The next few minutes were the only time in Harry's life that his mind had stopped to totally
focus on his pleasure without having to participate. The gentleness with which caressed him and
kissed him raised his consciousness of the pleasure to new heights He didn't need to speak. He
pulled her hair from her face allowing the reactions she felt from his body guide her. He felt her
hesitation at times but she pressed on. It happened so fast she jumped a bit and giggled nervously.
There was a silence where Harry didn't want to embarrass her. She recovered nicely from her
surprise. “Wow, Harry, don't know what I was expecting really. Maybe a bell or a whistle of
warning, I guess.” They laughed.

Her self-effacing humor at what could have been a very embarrassing moment for both of them,
lightened the mood but didn't completely ease the sexual tension as to what was next. She made
that easier as she moved from atop him and said, “Be back in a jiff.” She went to the bathroom and
came back very quickly. “Chamomile, Harry?”

“Sure,” he said still dazed. “Did we used to live on the planet Dumb?”

“I think so. One of the moons was “Uptight” and the other was “Prefect”.” She took the tea cups
down from the cupboard. “Only, it seemed they spelled the one wrong and it should have been
“Perfect”.” She simply kept talking nervously about everything that popped into her head.

He had no idea what she was saying and he guessed she didn't really either. He'd dressed
to the point where his shirt was open only to the fourth button. “I hope you didn't expect that
I'd let you pleasure me without returning the good deed. No one should have to dance with Rosy
when other girls are present.” Hermione handed him his cup of tea and slid in closely next to
him.

“Harry, I'm sorry I was so nervous,” she said. “If you hadn't guessed I wasn't
exactly the most experienced person you've been with.”

He didn't want to sound disingenuous, but how could he tell her no one had ever aroused him
twice so quickly. “Hermione how do you tell someone you love that they're incredibly sexy
without emphasizing the sexy part? You are…” He didn't know what to say. He started but he
couldn't think of which of the words he wanted to use. He decided to complete the original
thought “an incredible woman.” He kissed her forehead.

“Come to bed with me, Harry,” she said suddenly. “Or I'll put on my coat and go with you. No
sex. I just want to have you with me for one whole night.”

She sprung up and took his hand. “Come on. I proved that I don't bite.” She giggled
again.

He laughed and set his tea on the table as they passed it. “I don't have a tooth brush or
pajamas or anything, Hermione.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.” She came back a second later with a set of new freshly laundered men's
pajamas, a tooth brush, and a matching robe all neatly stacked in a shopping bag.

“By the way, at least that much had to happen tonight or I would have had to have broken my
partial vow of celibacy with the toys I bought,” she said holding up things he'd never ever in
a million years dreamed he see in her hands. And they were being shown off like trophies. “Turns
out they're not better than the real thing.”

He couldn't stop shaking his head. The pajamas were comfortable and the tooth brush was a
symbol in his world of debauchery that this would happen again sometime. But this time it was the
last time he had to think of such things. This was the one where it all ended. He felt powerless in
her spell. She was so different than what he was used to his heart ached. For, he thought, the
fifth or sixth time tonight that he'd never seen what a wonderful life he could have been
living. And for once, it was less about the sex than it was about wanting to see her and listen to
her babble aimlessly again. He wanted most of the women he'd had to shut up. He shrugged that
thought off. That was the past.

The lights in the rest of the house were going off. The curtain was drawn. He hadn't
realized that part of the excitement was that they were just six inches under the picture window
pleasing each other in near public view. A moment later he saw her again and she was a little
flushed. “I only messed up one thing.”

“And, that was?” he asked. “I'm not complaining.”

“Well, the curtain was open. My bare bum was showing to the world,” she said laughing now
realizing that there was nothing do now but remember it in the future. “I will die if anyone says
anything. If they say something to you, please don't tell me. I'm too young to die of
embarrassment.”

He laughed and slid into the full-size bed. “I'm upset,” he teased. “You did everything but
buy a King-size bed.”

“You remember that when you go to the complaint department Monday morning with a cast on your
pecker,” she said. “I'll…” She stopped with a giggle and kissed him.

He felt good with a woman for the first time in a long time. It hadn't always been one-night
stands or girls who had no self-esteem and were willing to do anything to have a guy. But those
moments never compared with this. He curled up with her in a spoon. “Hermione, not now, but soon
I'll have a question for you again. It's about coming to live with me.”

“Oh, so long as you're not asking now,” she giggled. “I should think I've answered
it.”

“I suppose you have,” he smiled thinking “Good.” That wasn't the question. But if she wanted
to think that that was all it was, then the surprise would still be there later--when he asked the
other question that he'd never thought he'd ask. It had always made him shiver to think of
asking it before, but not now. “If we have kids, what color do you think their hair will be?” he
said wanting to drop hints in a subtle manner.

“They'll be zebras, Harry—black and blonde,” she said giggling. “I'm going to try and
sleep. Please keep little Harry quiet. If he wakes up will you rock him back to sleep?
Don't' make me get up to do it.”

Harry wondered if that comment was a joke or the half-asleep comment of a future mother slipping
into a dream. He smiled at the thought that it could be a dream, but knowing she was wonderfully
playful.

-->



8. Same Old Story
-----------------



Same Old Story---Chapter 8

Anyone who knew Harry and Hermione well knew the story between them would either be sickeningly
sweet or turn out horribly awful. Harry knew this from his talks with Marlie and the twins. He lay
awake with Hermione cradled in his arm with her cheek on his shoulder. She had roused a bit but was
still struggling with the idea of opening her eyes.

Harry looked at her sweetly. “We need to get up,” he said. “Well, I do anyway. There's work
to be done at my house.”

“I'll come help you. I have to get used to it anyway,” she said with tired smile. “Four
o'clock and up at nine-thirty. Sheesh,” she cried mockingly as she let her head fall back in
her pillow.

“You can have a sleep in, Hermione. I just don't want to let them go too much longer,” said
Harry.

“No, no. I'll go. I'm going to collapse on your sofa later though,” she said. “I know
it.”

They showered and dressed finding the closeness a bit distracting for two people who were trying
to get out of the house and not find a reason to boff each other for real this time. “You will have
to fix up the place so we have room,” she said talking about his house on campus.

They whipped up a quick tea and biscuits with jelly and were off. They laughed at how the
tension between them probably made them move faster to get away from the bed than either of them
did when they were alone. “So, how do you do this?”

Twenty minutes later they were at the hut. He showed her where the feed was and which animals
got what. Harry had to take care of the snakes and the spider. But she was interested in what they
ate. He liked spending time showing her what he did everyday. He could tell that she was not as
squeamish as he'd thought she'd be. Human blood and taking care of people was different
than things that looked like they crawled out of a mound of manure.

He was happy that Hermione was a hard worker too. She helped him replace the gate with the one
he'd gotten midweek to replace the broken and splintered one. It was easy for him to hold but
someone had to put the pins in while he held it. “Painting is all that's left to do on that
project. Thanks Hermione, that was very cool.”

“No problem. This is so different. You're outside most of the day and I'm inside. I like
it here,” she said. “So, if there are other projects that an extra set of hands can help with bring
them on.”

He smiled. He had a load of small stuff that would be a lot easier with two people. Some were
things in the house. He knew he could use magic for most things, but he liked working with his
hands. The gate, he had explained to Hermione, would have been fixed by magic if he had something
in there that absolutely need it fixed right away. Otherwise, he wanted to replace it. Magic was
something that was a helper in most cases and not his focus anymore.

“Why is that Harry?” she asked as he mentioned it.

“I don't know. You don't realize how boring life would be if I did this everyday.” He
took his wand pointed it a fence post and said “Reducto.” And after a moment or so to
Hermione's surprise said, “Reparo.” First the post shattered and then it went back together as
if no harm had ever been done to it.

Hermione laughed as the post returned to normal in almost no time at all. “Oh, I see how magic
makes your life harder,” she said.

“Oh, go ahead and laugh, Hermione. I know how it sounds. The thing is: what if I did everything
by magic? I'd have so much time on my hands that I'd go nuts. When I first started three
years ago, I did things that way. Fewer injuries but I didn't like the animals much. I
don't know, one day I started to do things by hand like Hagrid had and fell in love with the
outdoors and, believe it or not, the great feeling I had when I went inside tired after a hard
day's work. Now I find the animals and creatures refreshing and a worthwhile task to do each
day.”

She seemed sort of sorry she'd laughed, but Harry laughed too. “I guess, if it makes you
happy to do things without magic, that's the way you should do them. I guess it's the same
as me putting the things up on the shelves really. I should be the last to talk.”

“I've told you before we're a lot alike in ways that aren't always obvious,” he
said. He kissed her forehead took her hand leading her inside. “Sit.”

He went over to his sink, “Tea?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Hermione.

He had felt uncomfortable all morning about her confessions of her two encounters with men
before last night. There was so much they still didn't know about each other. It was daytime
with no alcohol, not even the little they'd had last night, and no emotional wave to keep them
riding safely to shore.

“Harry?” asked Hermione. “Silences like last night helped to make things more mysterious. Today,
it's not the same for some reason. Is something wrong?”

“You are so good to me, Hermione. I just feel as if you did things that maybe you would have
preferred to have left still in our future,” he said. “I asked you about your experiences. And,
graciously, you answered. But you never put me under the microscope; you gave me excuses for being
the sort of bastard who doesn't deserve you. And, the guilt is sort of sinking in.”

“Why?” asked Hermione. “If I accept you the way you are, why are you feeling guilty?”

“It's good that we can't lie to one another. It will make it hard for us to be
unfaithful, but I think last night we were so much in love that our antenna for that sort of stuff
was down,” he said. “Is it possible?”

She tried to lighten the mood, “You mean something like a rubbish or bullshit detector?”

“Yeah, exactly, I don't believe for a second that you don't regret losing your virginity
under the circumstances you described and it made me feel guilty that I allowed myself to accept
your apologies for my behavior. Your decision to take responsibility for your actions and put a
good light on it…well, it convicts me of being a pretty self-absorbed jerk.” Harry turned and
looked at her with a very blank look of despair.

“What do you want me to do? Do you want me to get up and kick you in the whatevers for every
girl you were with?” asked Hermione.

“You wanted to wait for sex with me for just that reason, Hermione. I feel it. You wanted to
make sure that you got the whole sordid story before you let your hair down with me. But you
didn't, why?”

Hermione looked perplexed. “Because I love you, Harry and I don't need to know that to know
that I love you.”

“You aren't scared that one day one of those girls will show up with a baby at my doorstep
demanding that I support a son or daughter?” asked Harry.

Hermione looked at him for a moment. “You aren't telling me that…” she stopped. “No,
you're not. I can tell.”

“That's right, but how long do you think we need to wait to find out if it's happened
and I don't know about it?” asked Harry. “I've been blowing off that scenario since the
first time I didn't use protection.”

“Harry, you're not the only one responsible. I'm not sexually active, but if I had any
idea that I would be, that would be the first thing I would minimize as a possible outcome. Second
would be getting a disease but just as important.” She said, “Come sit down and don't make this
so scary with all this distance between us.”

“But I'm an at-risk partner,” said Harry. “You didn't exactly wear a surgical mask and
gloves. I'm just saying that you took a chance with me that I don't think you were ready to
take.”

“I'm not asking now. Come sit down,” she demanded. “I'm not going to hear any more of
this….this guilt. I did what I did because I love you. You're right. But I told you why. I
wanted an orgasm for once with a live human being making it happen. And, if I love you enough for
it to be you and I love you enough to make sure that I wasn't selfish, you don't need to
question my motives.”

She touched his hand as he set her mug of tea on the table. “You sound like me in one of my
anxiety states, Harry. I don't know what makes you act that way.”

“I didn't stop sleeping with girls in June because I was tired of having sex with
meaningless partners or because the Creevey brothers showed up unexpectedly when I was dating
Dianna. I suddenly found a conscience and I didn't like what I saw. That's why.” Harry said
with a sound of self-loathing.

“Harry, you must have a God-complex or something. Do you think you need to be perfect? Or that
you should be able to cure the pain in everyone's life? Or save them from Dementors? Or…Do you
think that I never lie? You're right I don't feel good about hiding on the Hogwarts grounds
with Viktor. But at the time, it felt sort of like last night. Is that the kind of detail you want?
I can give you more.” asked Hermione with a red face and tears streaming down her face.

“Do you want to tell me that you had two girls at once? I heard that rumor. Or, maybe that one
girl said that you had…Oh, I'm not going to say it. It's not gross really, but it was the
act of a man who wanted to relieve his sexual desire with a woman in anyway he could get away
with,” said Hermione. “I don't regret last night. I don't think you're a great lover
because of your experience. I don't think you're the monster you want to pretend to be
either. I think you're my lover because I love you and I know you love me.” She was not angry
but there was no softness or tenderness to what she said. She was being brutally honest.

Harry felt better in an odd sort of way. He'd not expected the torrent of words from
Hermione. He just felt better. “What will we do if Romilda, Bena, or Cassie comes with their hand
out to feed a baby? And, what about those who have left and may not have said anything?”

“And, what if, ifs and buts were candy and nuts; would everyday be Christmas?” asked Hermione.
“My time to worry about all that is in the past for now. If it happens I don't know how
I'll react? Do you want me to marry Viktor then? According to you and this logic, they could
come back when their children are ready for University.” She laughed.

A dark look passed over her face. “Or are you doing to me what you've done to everyone else?
Are you done with me now? You can't stand yourself, so you'll make me suffer too?” she
asked. “I refuse to buy it. Unlike them, I will kill you first.” She laughed at herself. “Now you
have me acting ridiculous. This whole conversation is ridiculous.”

Hermione got up and walked to the door. Then she walked back and kissed him and put his head to
her chest. “Hear that. That's the heart of a woman who is going to leave you sitting in
self-pity and loathing. I'm going to go home and change clothes. I'm going to go tell,
Marlie that the man I love finally admitted he loved me more than anyone he's ever known. If
her boyfriend and his brother find out, then I'll tell them the truth. But I'll be damned
if I'm going to let you tell me that the man I love is unworthy. I'm not going to listen to
it—even if it means I'm as stupid as some of the misguided girls he's known.”

She got up and walked to the door again. “I love you. You know where I live so, it's up to
you. I'm not talking to you until you apologize for making me even think I was one of your
bimbos. I don't believe I am but if you want to pretend then I'll act like it. If you want
me, you're going to have to pluck up the courage to say so all over again. I see how you
sabotage relationships now.”

The door closed and he was alone. He sat wondering why he didn't stop her and apologize
right there. Everything he felt and did for the last twenty-four hours was to avoid this very thing
from every happening again in his life. He remembered Hermione saying that `If you always do what
you always did, you'll always get what you always got.' Is that why he sat here now? Was he
only good at seducing women and playing the heartstring guitar until they wanted to stay and join
the band? Did he like being a solo act so much that he'd even screw this up?

No one who saw them the since he got to Hermione's house last night would ever believe that
he could be where he was right now. It was like a poorly written script that changed things simply
to add intrigue to a story that was too good to be true. But he had been honest. He felt unworthy.
He'd let himself think about asking her to marry him. He almost did it lying in bed last night.
He even felt good until they finished working outside this morning. Did Hermione overreact? Or was
she right and he wanted her to reverse the tables on him so he didn't have to live with the
pressure of an everyday, all-day relationship? What kind of idiot lets that happen? Something must
be wrong with him, he thought.

He contemplated showering again and going to Hermione's. He had been ridiculously adamant
about the what-ifs. He had enough money in Gringott's to handle it if all they wanted was
money. His stomach turned when he realized he'd just walk away feeling satisfied to have paid
off the mother of his child. He knew that wasn't true. Hermione was probably right though. He
wasn't picking up girls outside of Hogwarts who had no access to birth control or who
weren't savvy enough to realize the consequences. He laughed at himself. She was right. None
had been virgins to begin with. That was the one thing that he needed to remember too. It
wasn't like he was convincing girls that they were the only one for him and taking their
innocence. “I am so fucked up. I don't know my arse from a hole in the ground.”

He realized that was the problem. He went back to the week before at Hermione's when
they'd shaken hands. “Hi, I'm Harry Potter and I have a commitment problem.” She'd done
the same thing. She'd done it to be funny. He'd done it because he was telling the truth.
He loved Hermione. Every second he was with her, he knew it. The joy he felt at being with a woman
who pleased him willingly, but took control of herself and wouldn't have allowed him to force
her to demean herself. She would have kicked him out if he'd have tried to have intercourse
with her. She was sure of herself. He loved her. Now, he was scared. Before now, he just
couldn't be bothered with girls who were proving to be a dime a dozen in his eyes. This one
wasn't going to let him be a prat with her. If he was, he'd be doing what he was doing
now—even if she loved him with all her heart.

He got up, showered and dressed. He didn't dress like he did the night before, but he did
wear the new jeans and a new shirt. He knew that Hermione would not have said what she said without
meaning it. She'd accept his apology and they could move on. He arrived at her door around six,
but it was dark. There was no answer. He remembered that she was going to tell Marlie. He would go
to the Burrow.

He didn't like going places unannounced but this was an occasion that called for it. He was
far enough away to allow him to see if anyone was at home without being close enough to intrude on
a private moment for Ginny and Neville or Marlie and George. The house was empty. They were out. He
thought about Diagon Alley but Sundays were an early day for the merchants there as most wizard
families stayed home Sunday evening to cook and spend time as a unit.

He went back to Hogwarts and walked around the ward to see if Marlie were there. He asked the
young nurse that filled in for Madame Pomfrey only on Sunday nights if she'd seen either Marlie
or Hermione. She hadn't.

Harry was at a loss. Of course, if Hermione had looked for him on the two nights he'd gone
out this week, she wouldn't have found him either. He'd been on the verge of panic for a
moment. He tried to empty his mind of the negative talk that kept him still singing the `why do you
want me' song. He knew that he wasn't as bad as he felt sometimes. The biggest indicator
was that Hermione was his friend. If he thought she was so worthy then the mere fact she was with
him should be enough. Why didn't that make him feel better? But it did make him feel better,
didn't it?

Finally, he gave up the chase. He realized he could be just moments behind her. She could be
back home by now. He'd go back there one more time before he went home. He thought he just
needed to clear his mind first. Once he arrived at the gates to Hogwarts he Disapparated to the
place that he remembered the revelation that no one could come between them. He felt it was a magic
moment between them. Maybe he could remember that feeling again.

He walked along the boardwalk. He knew that he'd be okay if he just let himself be happy. He
felt sadness sometimes that he couldn't explain. It didn't last long but it lasted long
enough to know he felt it very strongly. Her scent filled his memory as he envisioned her lying
atop him this morning. He loved her he knew, but how could he let her say all she said without one
word to stop her before she left him. He didn't contradict one thing she said. They had to get
through this he thought.

He Apparated just ten or fifteen paces from her door. It was dark still and now he was sure
she'd gone out with Marlie and the twins or was somewhere thinking where she knew she could be
alone. He'd just done the same thing, so it was possible.

He walked slowly back toward the hut. The evening air was crisp again. He was walking with his
head down thinking for a couple reasons. One, he wasn't real happy and the other was that he
knew there were gopher holes between the road and the hut. But there was nothing he could bump
into. Yet all of a sudden, something grabbed him and held him. His heart pounded for that split
second of terror until he realized it was Hermione. She'd left the door open to the hut and run
headlong toward him.

“Harry, where have you been?” she asked. “I've been worried sick.”

“I was looking for you,” he said in a stunned tone. “To apologize.”

“Well, about that. We need to talk,” she said. “I should apologize first for lying to you. A lie
isn't a lie until you try to tell it the second time to convince someone. I realized when I was
talking to Marlie that I was bothered by your past and I was lying to you and me. But telling you
off kind of cleared my conscience.”

“Okay, wait. I can't let you just go on again like this afternoon. Apology accepted. I just
wanted to apologize too remember. This is a two-way street. Neither of us is perfect. You should
still be mad at me for not realizing all that I learned about us last night. I should have been
better about thinking of what I wanted to say first,” said Harry.

“I brought my pajamas, Harry,” she said with a smile. “Don't get any funny ideas. I did it
because I think we need to talk this out and I trust you to be a gentleman. If we're going to
fight, we're going to learn to fight fair. No one is the bad guy until we agree who it is. So
don't start taking all the credit or blame,” said Hermione.

“Marlie's idea?” asked Harry.

“Yes and she has about three tea cups of my tears from the last three hours. George and Fred
wanted to kill themselves listening to me. So, if I put them out to figure out what to do, then we
can work on it.”

Harry let Fang out. Every now and again he'd let him out when he had someone over and let
him in again in the morning. Today was one of those. He and Hermione made tea and sat exchanging
their thoughts instead of ranting.

“So, we're going to keep going, just like we were before this all came up this afternoon,
right Harry?” she asked crawling under the covers next to him.

“I'm willing to give it a go,” he said as her hand touched his. “Look, I'm not used to
sleeping with a girl all night. Maybe that was part of it too.”

“Well, get over it. Harry, we know we both have problems. Mine is that I'm in love with you
and yours is that you're in love with me. The difference is that I feel like I deserve to be
happy and for some reason, you don't. We're going to find out why.” Hermione rolled over
and kissed him then went back to lying on her back.

“I don't understand how I can be so happy one minute and so disgusted with myself the next.
It's not like that really…not moment to moment…but something gets me going that way and then it
takes time to shake it,” he said.

“You are happy I'm here I can tell that, but you're not bursting at the seams like you
were last night or even last week. I can tell a difference. I don't think I've ever been
around when you have changed from one to the other--maybe from sad to happy, but never the other
way around,” she said. “But we'll stick together and find out why it happens.”

“I'm going to shut off the light, okay?” asked Harry.

“Sure, I know I'm just annoying you now, I can tell. Go to sleep,” said Hermione.

“I really do love you, you know. Even if right now I seem distant. I want you in my life,” he
said as he turned off the light. He didn't care if the sobbing tone of his voice came
through.

“I know you do, Harry. That's why I'm still here,” said Hermione

-->



9. Love Hurts
-------------



Love Hurts—Chapter 9

It had taken a few days but Hermione and Harry seemed to return to the fun-loving banter that
had started them on the road to a promising relationship. But as Harry lay sleeping in
Hermione's room one afternoon in early November, Hermione and Marlie talked about Hogwarts and
what was going on between Harry and Hermione. They rarely discussed it at much length at work,
there was too much to do with school in full swing and the daily cases of teenage angst creating
one drama after another, especially since Hermione had taken the previous week off to help Harry
finish the additions to the hut.

“So, when you were off last Saturday, this fifth-year Jason came in with a blister on his hand.
I started treating the normal way we do, you know soaking it and trying to get the water out of it
to make it less painful. I asked him what happened while he sat there. Hermione, he turned
scarlet,” said Marlie.

“His ex-girlfriend was so mad at him that she took Bubotuberpus and disguised it as his hair
gel,” said Marlie. “Is that mean or what?”

“I wonder why she was so mad?” asked Hermione.

“Well, we've seen this a dozen times right. Really, no big deal. One person gets mad at
another and does something silly to them. But the story doesn't end there. I fixed him up and
he goes back for revenge. He figures what's good for the goose is good for the gander. This
Saturday, after a week of preparation, he's set up a date with her to apologize for breaking up
with her. Then he starts the rumor that he's going to ask her to go with him again. Well,
remember the time you took Polyjuice and turned into the cat,” said Marlie.

“Oh, my, God.” Hermione's face turned pink. “He didn't.”

“Oh, but he wasn't nice enough to make it a cat or something like that. He took a hair from
Fang during one of Harry's classes and got the Polyjuice on the black market. She's now
stuck with big floppy ears hanging down to her boobs, a huge snout and drooling like a huge boar
hound. They're both going to be suspended on Monday until after the break. Professor McGonagall
believes that they'll both get over their anger with a month apart,” said Marlie. “So how was
your week off with Harry?”

“Well as you can tell he's been working hard to get his place ready. He won't let me go
this weekend because he says the surprise part for me is being finished. He's so much better
when he's working hard and has too little time to think about things,” said Hermione.

“That's nice. But how are you two getting on together?” asked Marlie.

Harry had just mentioned to Hermione how much he liked that Marlie didn't really pry.
She'd always ask questions that didn't make you answer in specifics, like `How's your
love life?' or `Have had the dreams about Voldemort lately?' Hermione agreed and said it
was the reason she liked having her over when they were off on the same days now. This was a rare
occasion that both of them were off while Hermione was on holiday.

“Good. I keep trying to get him to see that professor you rave about--the one who is a
muggle-born wizard. But he's not so sure that he wants to open up those wounds any more than he
has,” said Hermione.

“I think he still thinks it's guilt over being a promiscuous prat,” giggled Marlie. “You
know I mean that in a joking and loving way right. I don't think that he understood that he was
so sad sometimes that he sought out something that gave him temporary relief from his loneliness,”
said Marlie.

“I've begun to see a change in that though, Marl. He doesn't obsess so much about that
when he's talking about stuff. We rarely mention it after we had it out that first time. But
Viktor has come back once and we had to pretend to be our old selves so the rumors remained
rumors,” said Hermione.

“Yeah, I think it's a good idea to let people wonder why you guys see each other more
without telling them of you plans. You guys always made eyes at each other when you were together
so that's not different at all. And, people could really care less about your lives if it's
not a public news bulletin,” said Marlie. Hermione laughed.

“Tell me about it,” said Hermione sipping her tea.

“But what about Viktor, hon?” asked Marlie.

“I don't know what you mean,” said Hermione at first and then thought about the question.
“Oh, you mean how that affected us. Well, Harry said he'd rather that I told Viktor to quit
coming around without sending an owl.”

“Whoa, that didn't sound like he simply said, `Tell him to send an owl first.'”

“Well, no, he didn't. He said, `I made it clear to people I don't want in my life that I
don't want to see them, the least you could do is tell, Viktor the same thing. Or, at the very
least tell him to send an owl first.' I agreed with him and sent an owl right off telling
Viktor I didn't want to see him. There is still no reply,” said Hermione. “I did what he asked,
but he brooded for a few days. Wait you used his words. Marlie, what's going on?” Hermione had
a look of shock and bewilderment that Marlie had slipped up like that.

“I apologize for not hiding what I knew. But I wanted to see if you remembered how he said it.
He's jealous of Viktor, but not in a green-eyed monster way. But he's jealous nonetheless,”
said Marlie.

“Is it about that Viktor still dotes on me? What is it?” asked Hermione honestly.

“He still thinks of you being with Viktor when he comes around. Remember he's had girls come
around that were fine until he talked with them for a while and old feelings rushed back in and
forced him to deal with them again,” said Marlie. “He's the only lover you've had other
than Viktor that he knows so it sticks in his mind.”

“Is this going to hang over us forever, Marlie?” asked Hermione. “I have gotten over a lot of
the anger that he never saw me like he saw them. I realize I didn't want to be treated like
that, but how had he not seen my feelings for him. I know he still thinks that if he and Ron had
been more attentive I wouldn't have gone with Viktor.”

“Well, that's it I think. He understands that a woman has needs like a man does and that
they pursue them differently, but he thinks of how lonely you must have been to want to give up
your virginity to a guy who you might never see again,” said Marlie. “He feels the jealousy because
it would be easier to think of Viktor as being like him—someone who used women for sex. But he sees
that he probably really cared for you. That makes Viktor his equal as far as lovers in your
life.”

“He doesn't think that I still have a thing for him though. That makes no sense. I'm
with Harry and I've told him things that Viktor will never know and I wouldn't ever share
with him,” said Hermione.

“That's where the guilt comes in Hermione. He doesn't associate his obsession with sex
over relationships as being a reaction to needing something in his life. He thinks he's just an
oversexed jerk and that one day, you'll want a man who can commit without all that baggage,”
said Marlie.

“Baggage? Viktor's exploits probably would put Harry's to shame. He's all over the
world. He's a rock star in the Quidditch world. He wants me to be his arm candy. He loves me
sure. It think that's true, but his commitment is to having a steady sex partner. That's
what Viktor is all about. Harry can't see that?”

“Not when you threw the comment of `What? Should I marry Viktor then?' or something like
that,” said Marlie. “Do you know what that said to him? I'll tell you before you imagine
something more catastrophic than it is. He imagines that Viktor is an alternative that might be
better than him if you think he's a nice guy. Nothing more or nothing less. He doesn't see
you as wanting Viktor, but he hears those words anyway. He doesn't think you lie to him about
not having any feelings for Viktor is what I mean to say. But he wonders if it wouldn't be
better sometimes.”

“Okay, now I'm upset and I want to know where you're getting this from,” demanded
Hermione. “I'm sorry but now I don't feel so good about me and that is all I have. I
didn't mean it that way and you know it. But now I'm afraid to let you leave here without
telling me everything you know. You can't keep prodding me for information it would take
forever to get what you know out. I'll fill in gaps as you go. Please don't let Harry wake
up before we finish.”

“You know I'm a legilimens, right? I don't do it on purpose but sometimes when I hear
words that don't tell the whole story I forget that I'm doing it. I listen extra close and
I actually see what someone is thinking. That's why I'm still a student. I need to learn
not to invade people's minds unless I have their permission or without meaning to do it,” said
Marlie.

“Okay, I knew you could do that but I didn't know that it was that kind of thing. So, you
saw that I'd left out part of the conversation with Viktor on purpose?” she asked.

“Yes. Anyway, here's what I think. This is quick and dirty so we finish without him hearing.
He fell apart when you left him after the Great War. You were the only living, breathing person he
trusted left in his world. He considers Ron in another one. I don't know if it was love or not.
That wasn't clear. But what is definitely at play was that he needed someone with a kind touch
to fill in that womanly influence. One after another disappointment led to sadness, but no change
in behavior. He had to find the one who would fill in your place. Following so far?” Marlie paused
for Hermione's answer.

“Whoa, that's a bit of a stretch since he was sleeping with them and I definitely wasn't
then,” said Hermione.

“Skip that part of what was going on. That was just what ended up happening with them. Their
concern for him only got close to the feeling of acceptance he got from you when they joked and
kidded before they slept together. The fact that he was a `mini-rock star' to kind of use your
phrase meant he didn't have to say or do much to have a girl please him. We both know orgasm is
a pretty healthy jolt for the psyche. It makes you feel worthwhile, fulfilled—even masturbation
does that for a while. But why would he go home and fantasize when he knew he could probably live a
few of fantasies with people all to willing to see what Harry Potter was all about. Before you put
on the guilty face for too long, it started way before you.”

“Abandonment happened at one year old for him. He lived in a house that didn't acknowledge
his existence. The first girl he ever had a real crush on emotionally abandoned him when she found
he wasn't a replacement for Cedric. Then he abandoned Ginny to get even. She wanted him so he
made someone else feel how he felt. He didn't do that on purpose, really, because it was time
to move on to the prophecy, but he could have come back to her. That's when it became
abandonment. She saw him screwing everything that moved and he never came for her. I think if he
took satisfaction in that when she didn't come to his rescue right away when you left.
That's not clear why either.”

The tears filled Hermione's eyes so fast she couldn't stop them from dripping like huge
raindrops on her sweater. “So, he just kept doing what made him feel good.”

“Well, until it became an excitement/guilt cycle. He didn't go looking for the next girl,
but if she was cute and showed any interest, then he'd pursue until he got all he could get
without taking a chance that she'd abandon him too. Some girls were not good matches and those
didn't fit there. The no guilt sex was the rawest probably. He had no regard for them in any
meaningful way so he got what he could regardless of planning for it. In other words, he had his
high-risk behaviors with them. He only started realizing that when he caught that girl in June
claiming she was pregnant so he'd take her back. Well, she had her period one night while she
was there and he confronted her,” said Marlie. “I'm not sure you don't know the rest
already.”

“He could tease me all the time and take it to the point we'd jump each other's bones
but unless I gave the signal he wasn't going to do it,” said Hermione shaking her head. “So,
when I took the initiative that night, it was really the last thing he needed. He needed to be the
one to ask me for sex to keep it from being a repeat in his warped world,” recognized Hermione. “I
wanted sex with the man I love but in a very randy sort of way to spice up the experience. I
thought that he would understand and find it sexy, but it was just a repeat in one way but so much
more in another.” She sat with her hands over her mouth like she was praying.

“You two love each other. You'll work that out. The plea for getting rid of Viktor was
simply confirmation that you were with him for the long haul. But doubt in your own worthiness is a
difficult thing to get rid of. The real problem you face is the reasons he needs someone so bad
after the battle with Voldemort?” concluded Marlie. “That's where I'm out of my league. I
had to block those thoughts from my mind. It scared the ever-living daylights out of me.”

“So how do I convince him that I won't abandon him so he can stop shutting me out when he
feels bad?” asked Hermione.

“That's the trick isn't it? I wouldn't have found all this out through talking to
him and you for years if I'd waited to get clues for the next question to ask. That's the
only advantage to being a witch with this gift. So, I don't feel bad that I pressed the issue.
A lot of what I've told you he's never said nor was it in his head. If he knew of his
problem he would do something about it. That's where my training in psychology finally had some
meaning,” said Marlie. “So, some is conjecture but I've thought a lot about it and I'm
certain of two parts. He feels that he has been reckless and any man who could make babies and
could be abandoned was the lowest form of scum. And, you are too good a person to be put through
the drama of his mistakes, therefore he's unworthy of you.”

“So he loves me so much that I'm both a symbol of is greatest success and his greatest
failure,” said Hermione. “He started talking about babies that night and I made a joke out of
it.”

She was crying so hard now that she heard Harry stir. “I'm going outside for a minute.”

She wiped her eyes and realized he'd just rolled over. She sat down.

“What's the answer? I asked you before,” said Hermione.

“The answer is to endure his pain with him and every time it rears its ugly head beat it with
whatever love you have in your heart,” said Marlie. “Teach him as you are doing now that you're
not looking to leave. Remember why I told you to get back there quick that day?” asked Marlie.

“To keep him from convincing himself that he was right, that's what I had to do. I had to
show him I loved him even when I truly disliked the way he was acting. I remember crying like this
then too. It was so hard to go back and lay in bed next to him when I thought he might kick me
out,” said Hermione. “I had to believe even though it was hard to at that moment.”

“Do you believe now?” asked Marlie.

“I believed the moment he went to put out that light. He told me he loved me and said he wanted
me in his life. It's one thing to love someone and another to say that the way he did,” she
reflected. “It's going to take time like we originally thought. It wasn't that we were like
an old couple who'd lost the passion. It was like we were just doing a really twisted mating
dance.”

“That's about the size of it,” said Marlie. “Look, George is going to be home soon. He's
coming to my place tonight.” She raised her eyebrows. “I'd tell you for what but I think you
know.”

“Do you love him, Marlie?” asked Hermione.

“With all my heart, Hermione. Yes I do.” She said with a smile.

“Good bye, then”

“Yep, you cook him a nice dinner and see if that doesn't brighten his spirits,” said
Marlie.

“That's a good idea, I'm starving anyway,” Hermione smiled and wiped her eyes again.

Hermione shuffled around the kitchen chopping up the ingredients for a good spaghetti dinner. He
liked her spaghetti, but she had to hurry before he found out that part of the sauce was from a
jar. With the pasta boiling and the sauce simmering she went in and laid down next to him.

“Harry, Sweetheart. I'm making spaghetti. Are you hungry?” she asked.

He stirred at her touch and voice. His mouth moved the way a person's does when they just
wake up and they feel like they just ate a cotton ball. His eyes cracked open slightly. “Hi, did
you say spaghetti?”

“Yep, sure did.” She answered.

“I'm starved,” he reached for his glasses. “It feels nice to be woken up like that. Well,
waking up sucks but not when you see a pretty face like yours first thing.” He winked and sat up
next to her. “How long was I out?”

“Oh, few hours at least,” replied Hermione.

“Did Marlie leave?” he asked.

“Yeah, she left a little while ago,” said Hermione.

“Oh good, she stayed awhile and kept you company. I hate when I come over tired like this and
just crash out. But the house is almost done. Couldn't do much today,” he added.

“Well, wake up Sweetie and I'll have dinner ready in a jiffy,” said Hermione standing using
his shoulder to get up.

He wrapped his arms around her waist for a second and stood up with her. “Hermione, thanks.” He
kissed her sweetly and smiled. “I'm going to make you happy one day.”

“Sorry, should have brushed my teeth before I kissed you,” he said as an after thought.

“I don't know how you're going to make me happier than I am right now,” she said.

“Well, hold on to your socks then,” he smiled and patted her on the bum to shuffle her off to
the kitchen. “I'll be out in a minute.”

He listened to the sound of the water in the sink as he looked at his face in the mirror.
“Alright, Harry. Time to pony up, she's the one. Don't talk yourself out of it.”

He opened the door and looked down the short hall. She stood there in her jeans looking as good
as he ever had. His stomach felt all aflutter. He had had plenty of time to decide. She'd
finally told Viktor to leave her alone. He stepped back in the bathroom.

“Not yet. Dammit, how hard can this be,” he said looking in the mirror again.

“Everything okay, Harry. I thought I heard you coming out.” She called to him.

“Yeah, just another minute. I want to so bad. Why can't I just say it?” he shook his
head.

He opened the door again and walked out and nestled his cheek into her neck and wrapped his
hands around her waist. “How's that for a distraction?”

Hermione closed her eyes to absorb the rush of excitement to feel him touch her with excitement
again. “Good thing, I'm not holding anything hot or I'd be sorry now.”

“I'm holding something hot and I'm not sorry,” he whispered.

It had been a month or more for her. Her response to him showed it too, “So, are you leaning
toward eating spaghetti or maybe me?”

He whispered. “If you feed me spaghetti, I'll be too lazy to eat you, my pretty.” He said
with a diabolical laugh. He felt so comfortable teasing. It was fun again.

“Well, unless you tell me I'm the main course all you'll get is spaghetti,” she said
with a giggle.

“Ah, there's the Hermione I remember,” he said with smile. “When I decide to have you for
dinner there will be nothing but left but a little quivering flesh and bare bones.”

“Sounds like an awful lot to promise,” she said. “Parmesan or Romano?”

“Romano,” he smiled and sat down. He wanted to take her right then fulfill his promise, but
he'd made himself one. He wouldn't do that until he was ready to ask her for her hand in
marriage. And for the third time this week, he'd chickened out.

“So what did you guys talk about?” asked Harry.

“Sex,” said Hermione with a wink.

He didn't take the bait. “And what else?”

“Sex,” said Hermione.

“Come on,” he said.

“No, she's going home right now to twist George in knots,” she said smiling.

“Oh, I see the joke. You don't want to say, so you used just a part of the truth,” said
Harry. “So what's the big secret?”

“I'll have to get back to you on that,” she said with a smile.

“Were you guys talking about me?” he asked.

“Why were your ears burning when you woke up?” she giggled. “Of course, we were silly. What do
women talk about besides men and shopping?”

“Sex apparently?” he smiled. “Or the lack of it?”

“Oh, don't think I was complaining. Although I do remember once when I thought I was going
to start getting laid more often and then nothing,” she teased.

“I know Sweetheart, I'm working on it,” said Harry. “I don't want to flake out on you
again.”

“Why do you have such a hard time with me?” asked Hermione.

“Honestly, I don't know. It's certainly not that I don't think you're hot,” said
Harry twisting the spaghetti around his fork.

“Well, when you're ready to talk about it or to just drop all pretenses, I am too,” she
said.

“But when you're ready. I'm not going anywhere.”

“That's why I love you,” said Harry. “I don't know how you know that's the right way
to feel, but it is. God, I love you for that.”

He felt like that should have been the moment, but he needed time. Why had those words meant so
much?

“Is the spaghetti good?” she asked.

“Wonderful, but not as good as the company,” he said with a smile.

She touched his hand. He stared in her eyes.

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10. The Love Shack
------------------



The Love Shack---Chapter 10

Harry woke the next morning refreshed. There was something to the way that he and Hermione were
when they teased each other and talked openly. He had wondered quite often why it seemed that they
didn't do that more often. Were they truly falling into the trap of mundane familiarity that
their liaison the week after her birthday had been designed to prevent?

That question burned in his mind as he walked toward the house that morning shivering cold. It
was only a few hours until things would be ready for her, but what could he do that would make this
special. He had noticed throughout the week that she would probably not be overwhelmingly surprised
at the things he'd done to make them ready for her to live with him. That's what he'd
hoped would happen.

He walked in and looked around. The little skit that he'd worked out with the twins and
Marlie the night before had worked to perfection. They had come over straight away while he was
napping to finish the painting (done by magic of course) as well as patch holes where Harry had
carelessly pounded nails in his vain attempts to become an accomplished muggle carpenter. Marlie
had left Hermione and then had come to add the little things like ruffles to the curtains and make
the beds. He supposed he could have brought Hermione with him, but after so much work he didn't
want to come in and see something glaring that he could have done better.

The furniture from Hermione's would finish off a couple of the places. And the pictures on
her walls were so special that he knew they had to have a place here too. He looked at the floor
and Fang's sad face. “Don't worry boy, she'll be back today,” said Harry. Harry was
sure that it was Hermione that Fang missed most.

Harry tried to think of what would cap the day off nicely. Then he realized what had been
bothering him all along about asking her to marry him. “Finally,” he thought, “I know what I can
do.” It would take him a few hours but it wouldn't be hard.

He sat down at the table and scribbled notes furiously. He made a list. He tried to figure out
how to best accomplish something that now filled him with excitement. It was harder than he first
thought. Finally, he looked at the notes he'd made and was satisfied that he could pull it
off.

He got out of his work clothes and dressed casually. He walked back to the gate and
Disapparated. It only took him a few minutes to find the few things he needed in the little mall
he'd passed that night he'd bought his clothes. He needed a spare shoe box, a hat box and a
couple of cards. It was simplicity that made Hermione so wonderful. She didn't expect much from
anyone. Today, she would get more than she ever expected.

He returned to the hut. He had built the vanity in the spare bedroom; he'd decorated that
bedroom just for her. It was time to leave a trail of hints everywhere she went in the house. He
wondered how inspiration like he had now happened. In each room he left a card addressed to her.
Each of them corresponded to something that he'd done with specifically her in mind. No earth
shattering revelations were here. Some were sweeter than others, but when added together they were
his proposal. It was simple. After all these years, a simple “Will you marry me” seemed to be
inadequate.

He let out a sigh. When he opened the door to leave, he thoroughly expected this walk to be
either the fastest or the longest he'd ever taken in his life. When he dreaded doing something
it went by so fast that it was upon him before he knew it. When it was something he wanted
desperately it seemed to take forever to get there. Today, the walk was filled with anticipation,
but it hit neither end. He wondered if he should be more excited. He was going to ask Hermione to
marry him. It was like a ride in a car on a long trip where you allow your mind to wander as the
driver did all the work. Somehow his feet carried him and his mind played all the moments that made
this the right thing to do. He realized as he arrived at her door why he seemed so calm. He was
ready to make a verbal commitment to someone he'd committed his heart to long ago. They were
now ready to coexist.

He let himself in and saw her sitting at the table going over some papers. “Oh, hi, Harry.” She
smiled stood up and gave him a kiss. “I was just looking at my O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. reports and
thinking how long ago that seems. But I realize that it's only been four or five years.
I've been here for two and a half though so maybe that's why it seems so long ago.”

“It's funny how time changes everything, isn't it? I was just thinking some of the same
things on the way back,” he said. “Are you ready to see the place now?”

She smiled and said, “Sure. Wow, you're really going all out. It's barely noon and
you're all dressed up. You look handsome.”

Another idea popped into his head as he asked her, “So, are you ready?”

“Give me a few minutes to change. I'm dressed for lounging about here not going out,” she
said.

“Okay, well, I'm going to wait outside for a few minutes while you change,” he said.

She looked at him strangely. “Alright, is everything okay?”

“Perfect Hermione, it's just not as cold today as it has been,” he lied. It was colder than
it had been, but his nerves were starting to play havoc with him. But not in the same way as the
four previous times, he'd tried to propose. This time it was as if he had energy to burn. It
wasn't long before he saw her come out into the hall from the bathroom through the window as he
stood on the steps.

He had an ulterior motive for not wanting to be inside with her this morning. His every thought
was about her. He often caught glimpses of her as she changed when he was inside. Today, as lovely
as she was her beauty would be an unwelcome distraction. He heard her footsteps from inside
crossing the hardwood floor toward him. He opened the door to let her out.

“Harry, it's cold out here. You liar,” she said teasingly. “Are you sure you're okay,
Sweetheart?”

“I just have a lot on my mind, but it's all good. So don't worry. Let's go,” he said
holding his arm out for her.

“I'm really excited to see it, Harry. I know you've put a lot of work into it,” she
said. “I think you may be treating me way better than you needed to with it, so I guess I feel a
little guilty too.”

He heard that and it just increased the feeling of certainty that he'd found a wonderful way
to express his love for her in their new home.

“You normally aren't so quiet, Harry. This is kind of spooky to be honest,” she said.

“We're almost there,” he said. In his mind, he ran over the dialog that would fit with each
new discovery as she made it.

“Oh, Harry, the curtains look wonderful from the outside,” she said. “That's a nice surprise
by itself. I had expected to have to do that.”

He simply smiled. The excitement in his chest began to grow. His heart raced. He opened the door
and let her enter in front of him. He watched her carefully. “Harry, I knew this would look
different, but this is absolutely wonderful. I like these, it's a cute touch.” She pointed to
the little signs he'd put up showing her where he thought her furniture and pictures fit into
the room.

On the mantle, there was a picture of the two of them. It was from one of the first times
they'd seen each other after her return. It was one of those campy poses that friends of the
opposite sex do for fun to ruin a picture someone hopes to get of them in a romantic embrace. He
sat next to her on a stool at the Three Broomsticks smiling with eyes crossed as Hermione hugged
him to her chest making a fish face. “Oh, Harry, you kept this horrible thing.” She giggled. “Why
would you do that?”

“Hermione, I found it this week and thought it represented our silliness and denial of our
feelings. I could hear your heartbeat in that picture and, quite frankly, I wish I'd had the
nerve then to bury my face between your breasts,” he revealed. “You're so wonderfully cute and
lovable in a mood like that.”

She smiled and took the envelope addressed to her next to it, “Hermione #1”. “What's this
Harry?” she asked.

“Read it, silly,” he said.

She opened it and read, “We are at our best when we are together without inhibition and looking
to laugh with and at each other.” She was speechless and hugged him. It took her a few seconds for
her to stop staring at those words for the second time.

Somehow she hadn't seen or recognized the bear-skin rug lying on the floor in front of the
fire. Harry had improved the place but he still wanted the rustic log cabin feel to remain. “Wow,
this is soft. And, look you have a little bench seat big enough for two over here. I take that
it's for warming up in front of the fire.”

“Yeah, I thought it's easier to warm our feet in front of the fire this way when it's
really cold,” said Harry.

He knew it would be the little touches he'd made not the sweeping changes that would attract
Hermione's eye. On the kitchen table sat a fruit bowl and a place setting for two. There was a
pink envelope on one plate “Hermione #2. She opened it and read it. She laughed. He'd found a
humorous card this morning that said it perfectly. He'd added a few words to personalize it. It
was one of those cards where it had an out of shape cartoon guy sitting at the table with a plate
of bones and little hearts floating above his head puckering toward a skinny, smiling woman. It
said, “The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.” He'd added something to make it
read. “They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I'm just glad you got
there and never left.”

“You're full of surprises this afternoon,” she said. “I take it there are more of these
ramblings throughout the house.” She said smiling.

In her room, she found the vanity with heart-shaped light bulbs, usable frilly-lace decorative
boxes in pretty pastel colors. Harry had a shoe box propped in the chair with a note attached
“Hermione #3”. “For the girl who has everything, a shoe box filled with…” Inside the box was a
single sock like the ones she'd made for the house-elves all those years ago with another note
pinned to it. “For my hot little house-elf, I offer you clothes in recognition of your freedom to
choose. Your choice to stay with me is worth more than you know.”

There were two more notes, but now he focused on the last one in the master bedroom. The large
king-size canopy bed was beautiful. Even as a guy, he thought so. The thick down comforter,
oversized pillows and covers along with the heart-shaped pillow between the two main pillows looked
inviting. In the center of the bed was a round hatbox with a bow.

He wanted to clear his throat, but it was too late. He was choked up as he'd feared he would
be. “Open it, Hermione,” he croaked. Inside were two tattered wool stocking caps—one blue and one
pink. Harry smiled inside at the silliness of it all, but was proud of the fact that he knew she
would understand. A note “Hermione #4 and #5”on top said, “Matching Sorting Hat's. Handle with
Care.” Below that was another card which contained the fine print as if it were the disclosure on a
loan for a credit card. “Placing this hat on your head, binds the wearer to the House of Potter for
life. The magic in these hats is permanent. It cannot be undone. As clothes are a symbol freedom,
these hats bind the wearers to lifetime contract where love, respect and hot sex are mode of
payment in return for like services rendered by the other. If you accept this contract see your
sales person for proper fitting.”

Hermione stood stunned. The tears ran freely. For a brief instant, he thought she'd put down
the box close it and run out. It was what he'd feared all along. But she turned to him holding
each hat by their fuzzy little tassels, “Are you the salesman?” she said with a smile. “I think I
want to put mine on please.”

Harry now hoped he could get the only part he'd not put in writing out the say way he'd
thought of it, “Well, along with the hats there is a special today that runs the end of our
lifetime, would you be interested in hearing about it?”

She smiled at his playfulness. “Yes.”

“The special usually includes an entire wardrobe matching the hats and sock, but as the salesman
really is not interested in seeing the lady in clothes he offers her the other sock for absolutely
no extra cost.” From behind his back, he showed her a sock matching the first one with an open
jewelry box and engagement ring emerging from it. “Will you marry me, Hermione?” He took the blue
hat and put it on. Next he brushed her hair away from her face and put the pink one on her. “The
hats are a separate offer from the ring and the socks. You have the freedom to choose one or
both.”

“But I take it you want me only in this hat and the socks to answer,” she said giggling.

“That was the general idea,” he said kissing her as his heart pounded and he felt his excitement
grow. He then took the ring and placed it on her finger. It wasn't a big diamond at all.
He'd not had the money for the one he would get her later.

It only took moments for them to undress and begin the dance of love in their new home in a bed
that seemed like a cloud. The laughter and pleas of passion mixed together in an x-rated version of
he-said-she-said. Hours later, they lay together sore and unable to move.

Harry traced her breast with his finger lingering just long enough over the nipple to make
Hermione brush his hand away. “Oh my god it still feels brilliant,” she said. “I love you,
Harry.”

“I love you too, Hermione,” he said laying aback into the pillow exhausted.

“So have I paid your salary for the month yet?” she giggled.

“No, that's only good for a day or so. I'll tell you when I'm paid enough,” he
teased.

“Yes, I'm realizing just now how a hard man is good to find,” she giggled again. “I know
it's old and unimaginative—but true.”

Harry smiled. “I want to get married in the spring Hermione,” said Harry. “Early May would do
nicely.”

“That's a splendid idea. I just thought I'd share something with you. It's certainly
can't be offered as fact, but it can be mentioned as a strong possibility. Come August or
September the bird coming down the chimney in our home may not be an owl with a bundle of
mail.”

“Sorry?” asked Harry without thinking. A moment later he realized what she meant. “Really?”

“Yes, Harry you picked the perfect time to plant a seed. The only thing we have to wonder now is
whether the soil is fertile enough,” she giggled. “Some couples try to time things perfectly to
conceive and it's this point in my cycle that we'd be doing each other like rabbits if that
were the case. It's only possible, but more probable than any other time. But I'll welcome
the stork if he comes.”

He smiled. “I hope you know that it's good news if it is as you suggest,” said Harry.

“Harry, I wouldn't be disappointed if it wasn't either. But I have the feeling that
I'm only going to be wearing these socks for the foreseeable future and the odds go up if that
is the case,” she said rolling over pressing her breasts into his chest. “Did the socks have a
double meaning, Harry?”

He smiled shrewdly. “Could be? If it was what do you think they meant? Both meanings?”

“The first was easy. You offered me my freedom again and you were telling me that you wanted me
to choose to stay as I had already done. The second was to keep me from having cold feet and
backing out, right?”

He laughed. “Yep. Was it that obvious?”

“Only I thought of it because I think you were more worried about your cold feet than mine,” she
said. “Isn't that more accurate?”

“You're scary you know that?” he said laughing. “You know I have one more surprise for you
though. I ordered it today. I suppose I could have made one by magic, but it's cool to wait for
it.”

“What's that?” she asked.

“Well, it's actually for both of us. It's a sign for the front door that says, `The
Potters-Harry and Hermione.' I knew you'd say yes,” he said.

“Oh you did, did you?” she said climbing atop him and pinning his hands to the pillows. “What
gave me away? Was it the fact that I stayed with you every day you'd let me for the last two
months while you acted as if your pecker had an out-of-order sign on it?” She rose up and put him
inside her again. He gasped at the intensity of her warmth. “Oh don't worry, Harry, you
don't have to do anything. It just seemed like such a waist of a good hard man.”

Her hips worked him slowly as his hands found her breasts. Each rise and fall of her hips primed
him for an explosion he knew would come sooner rather than later. “Bloody hell,” he said
breathlessly even though he hadn't moved. “Oh shit, what are you doing?” He felt the
contractions of her muscles milking him as she moved. “Hermione, oh. Not so fast, slow down.” She
slowed her movements to let him recover. He sat up and held her still.

Breathlessly, she said, “I didn't know if you could feel that or not, but it makes me feel
good.” She smiled. “You're in real trouble Harry. I've only gotten this part of it twice in
my life until today. I'm making up for lost time.” She moved again throwing her head back as
Harry kissed her bare neck and breasts.

It only lasted a few more minutes before they both gasped a minute or so apart, unwilling to let
the contact between them go. He rolled her to her side and held he head to his chest. “Whew, this
is insane,” he said. He ached all over from the excitement and prolonged exercise. “Either, I need
to gym to exercise or we need to use this as a daily workout routine.”

“Oh, we can work something out,” she said with a giggle. “Lie down and let's rest for a
while. This fifteen round fight is only half over.”

Harry groaned feigning injury. And then smiled knowing her eyes had snapped open staring at him.
“Just kidding, my hot little house-elf.” She smiled back.

House-elves were not attractive creatures by human standards, but it was their warmth, devotion
and willingness to please that were endearing. Harry hoped that she understood the reference was
not in anyway referring to physical characteristics. He held back laughing at that thought. She
would have left if she'd have thought she looked like one, he realized. She had to have
understood.

The late fall and early winter days meant that darkness came earlier. They awoke naked except
for Hermione's socks just before dinner time. Harry lay staring at the canopy breathing deeply
and as he relaxed next to her. “Hi, Harry. I'm going to be so sore,” she laughed groggily.

“That's what you get for trying to kill your future husband the first night you screw him,”
he said smiling. “But I'm willing to keep letting you try though.” He rolled over and kissed
her.

“Let me take you out for dinner tonight, Hermione. We can celebrate and come back to Hogsmeade
for a nightcap,” he suggested.

“That would be nice, but I'm afraid I'll walk funny,” she giggled. “Never in my life did
I ever imagine that I could enjoy causing myself such discomfort and consider doing it again.”

“We need to eat and a good walk will help to relieve our aching muscles.” He got out of bed and
held his hand out to her. She stepped down and he realized that they fit perfectly together. He
pressed her hips to his by pulling her buttocks to him. “You feel so good,” he said as he kissed
her and felt her breasts against his chest.

“Yeah, well, we'll never get out of here if Little Harry chooses the menu,” she giggled.
“Somehow I don't have the heart to tell him no today.” She slapped his bum playfully.

He jumped in the shower. They would have to go to Hermione's to let her change and there was
no sense in her getting her hair or anything else wet before walking in the cold air. He dressed
quickly. “Are you ready, Sweetheart?”

“Sure am, Harry,” she said wearing her pink stocking hat. “Don't tell me you knitted this
yourself.”

He laughed. “No, but I didn't want them too look store-bought either, so I conjured up a
couple and then used my wand to give them that look.”

“What you did for me today Harry was so far beyond words,” she said snuggling as they walked.
“I'm just speechless for each little card and sentiment you expressed. Thank you.” Her lips
were warm on his flesh even as the wind chill pierced their jackets and burned their faces.

She ran in and left Harry sitting on the sofa. There was no more teasing needed he realized.
They'd gone beyond that today. Oh, there were still plenty of erotic moments to be had, but it
didn't need to be that subtle now. He heard the door to her room open a half-hour later.

“Wow, are you stunning tonight, or what?' he stammered. Every curve was accentuated in such
a way that anyone else looking at her would see her beautiful dress and figure but he would imagine
her bare skin beneath. “You are gorgeous.”

They Apparated in the exact same place they had two months earlier. They walked the same way and
stopped before the same window and kissed. “Harry, I never answered. I will marry you. I want to be
with you for as long as we live.”

“I want that too. I knew it all along, but it took you saying that you weren't going
anywhere last night to convince me. It meant somehow that if you could still love me, I could
forgive myself. That wasn't a bad thing or self-criticism. I forgave myself this morning when I
realized that's what had to happen to love you with all my heart,” he said.

They began walking as they talked. “Forgave yourself how?” she asked.

“I don't know exactly. I just remember thinking that I'd not been faithful to you. I had
loved you and done so many things that were the exact opposite. I felt guilty for that. But I
realized I'd chosen and you had accepted me, so really all that was left was for me to accept
myself and let your love in,” said Harry. “Then every kind moment we'd ever had together
flashed in my memory. I realized that's what pleased me most--your smile and happiness. If I
continued the way I was going I was going to make you unhappy and I couldn't have that.”

“Maybe Harry, but I love you too much for that to happen this soon. I'm happy that you feel
good about it. It's what makes this moment so special,” she said.

They had arrived at the same restaurant. “I remember you and the lady, sir. Potter, non-smoking,
away from the bar. Correct?” The maitre d' looked at the ring on Hermione's finger and
smiled.

“Yes that's right,” said Harry. “How did you remember?” Harry asked the maitre d'.

“I see all types of people enter, sir. I see everyone who enters. There was an aura around the
two of you when you were here last. It glows more brightly today. Some things you never forget, Mr.
Potter. The love you two share is one of them.”

Harry smiled, pulled out Hermione's chair, and let her sit saying, “I guess he saw this for
us all along.”

Hermione said. “So did I Harry. I'm glad you joined me in that belief.”

Harry's heart filled with gladness and hope.

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