The Return by BeaumontRulz Rating: PG13 Genres: Romance, Mystery Relationships: Harry & Hermione Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5 Published: 13/07/2006 Last Updated: 27/07/2007 Status: In Progress The day Harry left Hermione to defeat Voldemort he promised her that he would come back to her. Five years later and Hermione had lost all hope that he was coming back. But when he appears in her living room cold, wet and wounded she finds herself reliving past pain and realising with horror what Harry went through to come back to her. I'm ba-ack! 1. Surprises ------------ Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: H’ok. So. Another multi-chaptered story guys! Yep, it’s been dragged out of me. I was sitting in Modern History on the last day of school last term and started drawing up a mind map. So, I pretty much know what’s going to happen… unlike my previous multi-chaptered stories. It isn’t finished so you may have to wait after the fifth or sixth chapters for more than a week or two but I will try my best. I don’t know how long it will be though. So don’t ask me that yet. Hopefully it’ll be longer than ten chapters. Oh, and if you think its clichéd, don’t worry, I know it is. But, I hope you like it and please review at the end! Giant thanks to the wonderful talianne who beta-ed for me. My usual beta hasn’t responded and I fear her computer died on her again… oh well. StarAngel613, if you’re out there email me! Sorry, I kinda got impatient :P lol sorry honey…** --- **The Return** **Chapter One: Surprises** *“Just another day.”* *“Of course.”* *“It’s not as though you’ve never gone out to do* this *before.”* *“Hermione…”* *“Because we all know the famous Harry Potter has defeated Voldemort before.”* *“Hermione I don’t want –“* *“– me to get hurt,” she finished his sentence, glaring at him. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t* care *what happens to me?”* *“Well, I do care,” he said stubbornly. “No one else is going to die because of me.”* --- Hermione flinched slightly as she woke up suddenly. *‘Just a dream,’* she thought to herself, feeling a deep, sinking feeling in her stomach. She sighed heavily as she realised she wasn’t going to fall back to sleep and sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes. A quick glance at her alarm clock told her that she *could* be getting up in another half hour to get ready for work. She shrugged and turned the alarm off and slid out of the bed, yawning widely. --- *“I’m* not *going to die because of you,” she said, just as stubbornly.* *“I’m not going to take that* risk *Hermione. You are not coming with me.”* *“Just because Ron –“* *“You’re not coming with me,” Harry interjected, stopping her from finishing her sentence.* --- Hermione stepped into the shower when the water was at the right temperature – not too hot, but certainly not too cold. She let it pound down on her head for a moment, her eyes closed as she felt the water trickle down her naked back. She then turned around to let the water fall down her front, rubbing it into her stomach and just under her breasts to make sure she was completely wet. She began to wash herself, washing away the memories of a certain hero she’d come to love over the years… --- *“I can’t lose you too Hermione,” he whispered, stepping forward to pull her into a very tight hug. “If I lose you then I have nothing else to fight for.”* *“But…”* *“Just please do as I say,” he said softly, pulling back to look at her face.* *“I don’t want to never see you again,” she whispered, resting her forehead on his. “I want to be with you the whole way through.”* *“You have been,” he whispered back, moving a hand up to wipe away the single tear that escaped the corner of her eye. “You’ve been with me from the very beginning Hermione, and that’s why I don’t want you with me now. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”* --- Once she’d washed her body and hair, she turned the shower off, breathing the steam in deeply and closing her eyes. She reached out of the shower for her towel and wrapped it around her body before stepping out of the shower to stand in front of the steamed up mirror. She gazed at her blurred reflection for a moment before leaning forward to rub the mirror clean of the steam. --- *“Promise me you’ll come back Harry,” she whispered desperately.* *He smiled slightly and kissed her lips tenderly, “I promise Hermione.”* *She looked slightly uncertain by his actions, “What was that for?”* *Harry sighed, “If anything* does *happen to me I want you to know something…”* *Hermione waited for him to finish his sentence. When he didn’t, she asked, “Which is?”* *“I love you Hermione,” he finally whispered, “And no one is going to take you from me.”* *She bit her lip,* ‘What a time to confess our feelings for each other,’ *she thought to herself. “I love you too Harry,” she whispered back. “No one could ever take me away from you.”* *He gave her a small smile and kissed her lips softly, “I have to go.”* --- Once dressed and with her hair dry, she made her way into her kitchen. Crookshanks sleepily lifted his head as if to say, “What are you doing up so early?” as she approached him to scratch his chin. He was very lazily stretched out across the kitchen table, looking as though he could stay there all day. “’Morning,” she muttered to him, scratching him under his chin and on his stomach. She yawned slightly and moved away from the cat to the kettle. She filled it with water and drew her wand from the pocket of her robes to cast a heating charm on the kettle. --- *“Voldemort is gone!”* *The cheer rose from the centre of the crowd and it quickly spread, turning into screams and yells of joy. Hermione and Ginny frowned at each other.* *“Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked softly.* *“I don’t know,” Ginny replied just as softly.* --- “Good morning Miss Granger!” Hermione’s secretary, Mary, said cheerfully as Hermione bustled into her office. “Hi Mary,” Hermione replied, smiling down at her. “Have you got my schedule for today?” “Yes,” Mary said, picking up a rather long scroll of parchment. “You’ve got a half hour lunch break at one thirty before Mark comes in for a check-up,” she added, winking up at Hermione. Hermione smiled, “Thank you Mary.” She walked into her office and closed the door behind her, tossing her schedule onto her desk and hanging her robes up on the stand in the corner. She moved over to her desk and sat down behind it, pulling her schedule towards her. --- *“He never came back,” Dumbledore said tiredly.* *“What do you mean, he never came back?” Hermione asked, standing up suddenly.* *“Calm down Miss Granger…”* *“Why didn’t he come back?” she asked, glaring daggers at the old man.* *“We don’t know. Please sit* down *Hermione,” Dumbledore said very firmly.* *Hermione sat down and Ginny made herself heard, “Do you know* anything*?”* *“We only know that he killed Lord Voldemort. His body hasn’t been found yet so we still hope he’s alive.”* --- “How are you doing today Severus?” she asked, peering down at her former potions professor who was lying rigid in a bed. He’d been bitten by some sort of poisonous spider, and the venom had seemed to paralyse his whole body, apart from his eyes and mouth. “Are you any closer to finding a cure Granger?” he asked through gritted teeth. “I’m afraid not,” Hermione said, checking a chart at the foot of his bed. She glanced at the professor’s face, “My healers are working on it.” “Why aren’t *you*?” “Because all of my time is spent looking after patients like yourself, *Snape*. My healers will come up with an antidote, and when they do I can assure you that I will make sure it works before testing it on you.” “You had better,” Snape muttered irritably. *‘Or not,’* Hermione thought to herself, sighing as she placed the chart back on the foot of his bed. “I will be back later this afternoon to check on you.” She ignored whatever remark came out of his mouth next and turned her back on him, leaving the room to go to her next charge. --- ‘In memory of all the people who died or have been missing since the war began, the Harry Potter Memorial Statue was erected in the centre of London today. The many names are engraved into the statue below the image of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. No one knows just what happened to the wizarding, and indeed the whole world’s saviour. All that anyone knows is that Harry Potter freed the world from the prison the Dark Lord had conjured…’ *“Turn it off,” Hermione snapped irritably, glaring at the Wizarding Wireless Radio. When no one moved to shut the irritating box off, she drew her wand and shot a spell at it. The radio immediately shut down and Hermione resumed trying to break the table with the force of her mind, glaring down at the deep brown wood.* *“You’re not the only one who’s hurting Hermione,” Ginny said softly.* *“I* know*,” Hermione replied, raising her eyes to glare at Ginny. “And I know Harry isn’t the only person we lost. Ron and… they were great friends too,” she said, the sharp tone of her voice softening as she saw tears come to Ginny and Mrs Weasley’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.* *“It’s alright dear,” Mrs Weasley said tiredly, standing up and going to the kettle, which was now beginning to whistle on the stove. She poured the boiling water into three mugs with tea bags.* --- “You seem to be doing quite well Mr Adams,” Hermione said thoughtfully, tracing the healed wound across his torso very lightly. “Hermione.” Mark caught her fingers and grinned cheekily at her, “We go through this every time I’m here. You *can* call me Mark.” “This is business,” she said, pulling her hand from his. “I don’t mix business with pleasure.” “Can’t I be the one exception to the rule?” Mark asked playfully, sliding off the raised bench and slipping his arms around Hermione’s waist, moving his head closer to hers. He kissed her lips softly and she smiled into the kiss. “Maybe just this once,” she murmured, submitting to his touch and kissing him again. --- *“It’s time you moved on Hermione,” Ginny said reasonably, leaning against the doorframe of Hermione’s bedroom and watching her friend search through her wardrobe.* *“No, it’s not,” Hermione exclaimed, grunting in frustration as she couldn’t find what she was looking for.* *“It’s been a year,” Ginny said, moving into the room and touching Hermione’s shoulder. “He’s not coming back.”* *Hermione glared at Ginny, “He promised me he would. He told me he’d come back.”* *“He couldn’t know…”* *“He’ll come back Ginny,” Hermione said stubbornly, going back to searching through her wardrobe.* *“What are you looking for?”* *“One of the mirrors Sirius gave him before he died. Harry always kept the other one with him,” Hermione said quickly. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it until now,” she muttered to herself. “Bah! Where is it?!” she exclaimed, ripping everything out of her drawers and cupboard, searching and searching for the small mirror.* *“I don’t think…”* *“I didn’t ask what you thought,” Hermione said sharply. “Oh thank God,” she mumbled, withdrawing the small mirror from the depths of her second-bottom drawer. She held it up, “Harry Potter.”* *Nothing.* *“Hermione…”* *“Harry Potter!”* *“Hermione stop…”* --- “I’ll come around later tonight,” Mark said, buttoning his pants back up. Hermione smiled and held his shirt out to him, “Alright. Remember to bring the pizza this time. I don’t like getting it delivered.” Mark took his shirt and grinned cheekily, “Yes dear.” Once with his shirt on, he kissed Hermione one last time before leaving the office. Hermione smiled slightly and moved around the other side of the desk and sat down, yawning slightly. A photo on her desk caught her eye and she managed a weak smile as she gazed down at it. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago when she, Harry and Ron were in their fifth year. The photo depicted her in between her two best friends who had their arms around her, laughing happily. Now, she was the only one of the trio left and she suddenly felt rather old – she was, in fact, only twenty three, but her life experiences had forced her to mature much earlier than anyone her age. “Your next appointments are waiting Miss Granger!” Hermione heard Mary call from her desk. Hermione sniffed slightly and made sure that no tears escaped the corners of her eyes before calling back, “Send them in!” --- Hermione frowned slightly as she tucked her hair behind her ears. “In or out?” she asked herself, raising an eyebrow at her hair. She sighed, *‘Stupid bushy crap,’* she thought irritably. There was suddenly a loud crack in the living room and Hermione heard Mark call, “Hermione?” “In my bedroom!” she called back. “Hey,” he said, entering her room. “Hey,” she said, turning around and standing up. “You look great Hermione,” he said, smiling nervously and leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. “You can’t come over tonight?” she said, raising an eyebrow at his flustered appearance. Mark sighed, “Yeah. I’m really sorry. My mother is in town and insists on spending her first night here with me. She’ll probably end up on insisting…” “To spend all of her nights with you,” Hermione said knowingly. “Don’t worry. You go and have a good time with her.” “Are you sure?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “I can tell her I can’t see her…” “No,” Hermione cut across him, “Go and spend time with her. I’ll see you for your check-up tomorrow.” “Alright. You’re not angry with me, are you?” Hermione smiled and leaned forward and kissed his lips softly, “I do find it terribly hard to be mad at you, dear.” Mark grinned, “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He kissed her quickly on the cheek before disapparating with a loud crack. She sighed when he was gone and proceeded to undress and change into her pyjamas, pointing her wand at her face and removing her make-up, and shaking her hair out. “I suppose I’ll have to order a pizza now,” she said to herself. --- Once she had her favourite pizza (one with everything on top, except of course for anchovies and mushrooms) she sat down in her living room with some reports to write up. She worked slowly through them, slowly eating the pizza too. Soon, half the pizza was gone and she found she needed a drink. So, she stood up from the couch and went to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water and drinking it at the sink, filling it back up when she had drunk it all. CRACK! Hermione jumped and frowned, “Mark? I thought you were supposed to be with your mother tonight?” No response. She frowned and set the glass down on the bench and drew her wand from her pocket, “Mark?” she called, peering carefully around the corner of the kitchen to look in at the living room. But it wasn’t Mark who was collapsed in the middle of her living room. No, it was someone she hadn’t seen for five years. “Harry,” she breathed, her eyes widening. She dropped her wand and her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered, not being able to speak any louder. --- **To be continued…** 2. Healing ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: Hmm’kay. I have a giant apology due to my very wonderful and gorgeous friend… Sapphire Water Elf Princess! God, I’m such a bitch… she was the one who’s pushed me through writing it! And I think she helped me come up with the title… or something. I’m so sorry you weren’t mentioned first sweetie! I love you heaps! Thank you!** **Thanks again to talianne for her betaing… StarAngel613, email me when you’re back or something.** **Mm’kay** **this chapter Harry and Mark meet. Everyone must keep in mind that he is a reporter… this will be relevant later. I’m sure all you wonderful people can figure out why. I hope you like and please review!** **The Return** **Chapter Two: Healing** *Last chapter…* *CRACK!* *Hermione jumped and frowned, “Mark? I thought you were supposed to be with your mother tonight?”* *No response.* *She frowned and set the glass down on the bench and drew her wand from her pocket, “Mark?” she called, peering carefully around the corner of the kitchen to look in at the living room.* *But it wasn’t Mark who was collapsed in the middle of her living room. No, it was someone she hadn’t seen for five years.* *“Harry,” she breathed, her eyes widening. She dropped her wand and her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered, not being able to speak any louder.* She wanted to scream, to jump for joy and she wanted to hug him to death. She wanted to press her lips to his, like she’d been dreaming about for five long years. She wanted to smack him for leaving her for so long, without ever owling her or coming to see her to tell her he was alright. She wanted to shout at him until she had no voice left, and then collapse into tears while he held her, telling her it was all alright and that he was back for good. Such a conflict of emotions made her chest feel rather tight and she felt like she wanted to scream, to let go of all emotion. But that would have to wait. She crossed the room to him and knelt down next to him to find he was shaking uncontrollably with cold, and he was bleeding rather badly in his side and across his torso. His clothes and hair were soaking wet and smelt like fresh mud and she realised that his eyes were rolled into the back of his head. “H-Her-Hermione,” Harry stuttered, almost at a whisper. “I’m here,” she said immediately, not sure whether or not she should move him or just try to make him comfortable where he was. “Hermione,” Harry whispered, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. “Hermione.” He kept on repeating her name and she soon realised that he probably didn’t know where he was. This meant he probably couldn’t move himself or do anything for himself. “Alright, I have to get you to my bedroom,” she muttered, half to herself and half to Harry. She stood up and frowned slightly. “*Wingardium* *Leviosa!*” she exclaimed, swishing and flicking her wand at his curled up form. Harry rose slowly, still in the foetal position and Hermione slowly moved him through her apartment to her bedroom. Her arm was shaking slightly as she finally was able to lower him down on the bed, and she cast a quick drying spell on his robes and hair. She removed his shoes and socks and gently pulled his arms out of his torn robes. She cautiously undid the buttons on his shirt, to get a better look at his wounds. Once the shirt was open she found herself gazing down at his torso in horror. On his chest was a healed burn scar in the shape of a handprint, and across his abdomen were knife slashes. Most weren’t too deep and Hermione simply cleaned them before healing them. But there was one wound that was rather deep and it was still bleeding, trailing diagonally from the right side of his ribcage to the top of his left hipbone. Hermione then noticed a long wound trailing from just under his right armpit, down to the top of his hip bone. She frowned and tugged his shirt off him, turning him around on his front. His back was almost unblemished, apart from a mirror image of the handprint on his chest, in the exact same place. She turned him back over and set to healing his deep wounds, cleaning them carefully before pouring her magic in from her wand to slowly, but surely close the wounds up. Harry had fallen unconscious on the bed, tossing his head every now and then and muttering Hermione’s name. She picked up a blanket from the foot of her bed and spread it across him, making sure it covered his bare feet as well as up to the centre of his chest. Once she’d done that she began to leave the room. “Hermione!” She was called back by a strangled shout from Harry, who had opened his eyes wide, gazing around for her. “I’m here,” she said quickly, running back to him. “Hermione,” he whispered, his eyes finally focusing on her. “It’s alright.” She sat down next to him on the bed and held his hand in hers. He didn’t say anything else; he just gazed up at her until he finally fell asleep. Hermione sighed tiredly and stood up off the bed when he was asleep, and made her way into her kitchen. *‘He’s back,’* her mind told her. She suddenly found her knees were shaking and quickly sat down on one of the kitchen stools. Crookshanks jumped up on the kitchen table in front of her and pawed her shoulder softly. She didn’t notice him, staring at the pale brown tiles of her kitchen. *‘Harry’s back.’* “Ouch!” she exclaimed as Crookshanks scratched her. The cat jumped onto her lap and sniffed in the direction of his food. “Alright,” she muttered, standing up as he jumped off her to fetch his dinner. Once Crookshanks was happily eating his dinner, she sat back down and rubbed her eyes, breathing hard through her nose. “Where have you been?” she whispered, opening her eyes and gazing down at Crookshanks’ back. --- Hermione had planned to spend the night out in the living room on a freshly transfigured bed. Crookshanks would have very happily curled up next to his mistress that night, for the extra warmth. But he had to settle for sleeping on his own in the middle of the bed, because Harry had woken up in the middle of the night, yelling out incomprehensible words. She had sprinted back into her bedroom to find Harry hovering two feet above the surface of the bed, writhing as though he were in pain. “Harry!” she exclaimed, moving forward, not touching him for fear he would lash out at her. Her voice seemed to bring him out of his nightmare, or whatever it was, because his eyes suddenly opened and he fell back to the bed. He was sweating terribly and Hermione quickly ran into her bathroom for a wet cloth. When she sat down on the bed, Harry had calmed down a little, but was still breathing hard. “It’s okay,” Hermione said softly, dabbing at his forehead with the damp cloth. Harry gazed up at her and his hand moved up to his forehead, to clutch at her hand. “What is it?” she asked absentmindedly as he pulled her hand down. He opened his mouth to say something, but then looked as though he couldn’t say anything. He sighed heavily and moved her hand to the centre of his chest, to the scar. She raised an eyebrow and he said softly, “Hermione.” Hermione glanced down at their hands and then back up at his face. “I can’t,” she whispered, watching him move his other hand to her cheek to cup it softly. He frowned and cocked his head on one side, a confused look on his face. She blushed slightly and said, “I’m… involved.” He frowned again and then raised one eyebrow. “His name is Mark,” she said, the blush darkening in her cheeks. “We’ve been going out for a few months.” Harry raised his other eyebrow and said, rather possessively, “Hermione.” “I’m sorry,” she said softly, sighing and taking her hand away from his. She stood to leave to the room but he called her back, “Hermione!” She turned around to see him looking rather fearful and sighed, “Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?” He nodded rather enthusiastically and she couldn’t help but smile, “Not in *that* way Harry.” He shrugged and patted the other side of the bed. She crossed the room to him and climbed under the covers with him, feeling him slip an arm around her shoulders as she did so. She smiled and leaned into him, careful not to lean upon his freshly healed wounds. “Good night Harry,” she said softly, closing her eyes as she slid down into the bed with him. “Hermione,” he murmured sleepily. --- Hermione woke up the next morning feeling very comfortable and warm. She felt Harry pull her closer to him and she obliged, sliding one of her hands up and onto his torso, beginning to trace small circles there. He sighed happily and looked down at her. “This is how it was supposed to be,” she said softly, looking up at him. He nodded. She sighed and sat up off him. “I need to owl St Mungo’s to tell them I’m taking my holiday leave,” she said, standing up off the bed. Once she had sent an owl to Mary saying that she’d finally decided to take her holiday leave and to send her patients and charges to the healers in the offices next to hers, she went back into her bedroom. Harry was still sitting where she’d left him, frowning. “What’s wrong?” she asked worriedly, sitting down on the bed. There was suddenly a loud cracking sound and Mark’s voice sounded through the apartment, “Hermione?!” “In here!” she called back, still looking at Harry worriedly. “You knew he was coming,” she said softly to Harry. Harry frowned and glared at the doorway as Mark appeared in it. “Hermione,” he said, nodding in Mark’s direction. Hermione turned around to see Mark looking rather suspicious, if not, cross. “Who is this?” he asked, raising both eyebrows at her. She sighed and stood up off the bed to walk to him, “Harry.” “Harry who?” “Potter, you ass,” she said exasperatedly. “Isn’t he dead?” Mark asked, looking past Hermione at the irritated form of Harry Potter. “Obviously not,” she said, turning back to look at Harry. She crossed the room back to Harry and sat down next to him, “I’ll be back in a minute Harry,” she told him, squeezing his hand softly. Harry nodded solemnly and glanced behind her at Mark. She stood up and walked out of the room, pushing Mark along with her. “How long has he been back?” Mark asked, raising his eyebrows at her again. “And *why* is he in your bed?” “He… appeared in my living room last night,” Hermione replied, rubbing her eyes. “And he’s in my bed because I have no other place to put him and he wouldn’t let go of me last night –” “You slept with him?” Hermione glared at him, “Thin ice, Mark.” He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to regain his composure, “Where has he been?” “I don’t know,” she said softly, breathing hard through her nose with her hands over her mouth as she felt tears come to the corners of her eyes. “Hasn’t he said anything?” he asked, looking over Hermione’s head at Harry. Harry narrowed his eyes at Mark as if to say, “Get away from *my* Hermione.” “He’s only been able to say my name,” she said, sniffing slightly. “Hey, don’t cry,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “There’s no need to cry.” “I know,” she said in a shaky voice, burying her face into his chest. “It’s just… finally seeing him brings everything back. I feel so terribly relieved that I finally know where he is. And I’m just so angry that he was gone for so long,” she added pulling back to turn and look back at Harry. “I can’t leave him,” she added to Mark, “Not now. I’ve already taken all of my holiday leave to nurse him back to health.” Mark nodded and said quickly, “I won’t come over as often then. I don’t think he likes me very much. I’ll spend the next couple of weeks with my mother.” “Thank you. When he starts to talk and do things for himself I’ll be able to come back to work and we’ll go out,” she said, turning back and hugging him tightly. “I’ll talk to you later then,” he said, leaning down and kissing her lips softly. “Just please don’t tell anyone though,” she said quickly as the kiss ended. “I won’t, don’t worry Hermione,” he said reassuringly. “See you.” “Bye,” she said, sighing as he disapparated. She looked back at Harry and moved back into the room. She sighed again as she noticed him looking rather disgruntled, with his arms crossed. “Don’t look at me like that,” she scolded him, crossing the room to sit down next to him on the bed. “Hermione,” he grumbled, glancing at her lips. “Harry,” she replied, “You can’t have expected me to wait for five years. I thought you died.” Harry sighed heavily and uncrossed his arms to reach over and touch her hands. He squeezed them and tried to move closer, only succeeding in making his ribs hurt. He winced and Hermione moved forward at once, laying her hands on his rib cage, checking to see if he had done anymore damage to himself. “You shouldn’t move so much,” she said, frowning as she traced the bottom bones of his ribs. “Your wounds might open again.” He placed his hands on hers and rubbed her skin softly. “Hermione,” he said softly. She smiled slightly and took her hand from his. “Are you hungry?” she asked suddenly, feeling her stomach growl faintly. He shrugged, looking away from her and out the window. “Alright. I’ll be back soon,” she said, standing up off the bed. --- **To be continued…** 3. Stay ------- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: Thanks to hids for beta-ing this time! =D love ya hun! Thanks to Sapphire Water Elf Princess for the help with writing it… and again, a shout out to StarAngel613… lol honey, where are you? This chapter Harry starts to talk again… yes, it’s moving along quickly… but meh. Please review… and I hope you like it.** **The Return** **Chapter Three: Stay** Over the next few days, Hermione had to stay by Harry’s side most of the time. When she wasn’t with him he would call her name over and over until she made some appearance in the doorway. She also had to bathe him, since he couldn’t stand up on his own properly yet. This was done when he was in his boxers. “You are not to remove those Harry Potter,” Hermione said very sternly. Harry paused in his action and pouted at her, “Hermione,” he whined. “No.” He glared at her and slid down into the full bath. “Alright,” she muttered, dipping a washer into the warm water and covering it in soap as she brought it back out. “Do you feel pain anywhere?” she asked as she began to rub the washer into his shoulders. Harry pointed at the centre of his chest, at the scar of the handprint. She frowned, “How *did* you get that scar?” Harry immediately frowned and didn’t make any movement to show her he knew anything. She sighed and continued to wash his back. “Do you remember anything?” she asked tentatively as she washed the soapy water from his back Harry’s shoulders tensed and he glared at the other end of the bath. “Alright,” she said softly, knowing he either couldn’t or wouldn’t tell her anything. “Sit back Harry.” He leaned back against the side of the bath and she moved the cloth around to his front. “You’ll have to talk about it sooner or later,” she said carefully. “You can’t keep quiet forever.” “Humph,” Harry hummed, crossing his arms grumpily. “If I’m going to wash you, I need access to your chest Harry,” she said irritably, slapping lightly at his arms. He sat up and uncrossed his arms, glaring straight into her eyes. She held his gaze, glaring back at him. He suddenly moved his hands to her armpits to yank her up into the air, with amazing strength, to pull her on top of him. “Harry!” she squeaked, struggling against him, making the water splash around. “Stop it!” “Hermione,” he said firmly, moving his hands down to grip at her hips. She struggled for a moment, trying to tug his hands away from her body, refusing to look at his face. He didn’t remove his hands from her and opened his mouth to say something, “St…” Hermione stopped struggling and looked at his face, “What did you say?” Harry screwed his face up and looked as though he was concentrating very hard as he said, “St-stay.” Her eyes widened and she bit her lip. He reached to her hand and placed it on his chest, across his scar again. She frowned slightly as he opened his mouth to say something again, “Please?” She relaxed, “You only want to be with me, don’t you?” He nodded and she sighed, “Alright Harry. Should we get out of here?” He shook his head. She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Alright.” He sighed happily as she moved to lie next to him, circling her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against the side of his chest. He closed his eyes contentedly and breathed her beautiful scent. The scent that he had longed for these five years past… his Hermione. --- Over the next couple of days, Harry began to speak longer sentences, although his favourite word still seemed to be Hermione. He still couldn’t walk on his own, so Hermione had to help him into the bathroom to go to the toilet and to bathe. She could at least leave the room for more than five minutes now that Harry seemed to understand what was going on around him a little better. “Your wounds are all healed up Harry,” she said thoughtfully one afternoon as she moved her hands across his abdomen. “I know,” he said, watching her move her hands further up his body to his chest. “But this one,” she said, frowning slightly as she placed a hand over the scar on the centre of his chest, “Are you going to tell me where you got this scar Harry?” He frowned and looked away from her, moving his hands up to hers to push her off him slightly. “If you’re ever going to get well again, I need to know why you have this.” “Then I suppose I’ll never get well again Hermione,” he answered curtly, crossing his arms and half covering the scar. “Do you know how you got it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I do,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip, “but I can’t put it into words.” She sighed and moved back from him, “When you can, make sure you tell me. I think this scar is the only thing stopping you from being the way you were.” Harry shrugged, glaring down at his lap. Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up off the bed. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want one?” He nodded. “Alright,” she said, sighing. She left the room to go to the kitchen to pour her and Harry a glass of water and paused at the sink, leaning on it heavily, her eyes closed. She felt her throat become constricted as tears threatened to roll down her cheeks and she made a small irritated sound. She opened her eyes, blinking very hard to make sure that no tears could escape the corners of her eyes. “I’m okay,” she muttered to herself, sniffing slightly. She picked the glasses of water up and carried them back to her room. As she approached the door however, she heard a loud crack and then a strangled shout. “Harry!” she called, dropping the glasses and drawing her wand swiftly. She ran into her room to find Harry standing up on the bed, holding his arm out at an upside down Mark. “Hermione!” Mark exclaimed, looking rather scared. “Oh God,” Hermione muttered, watching Harry with wide eyes. “Harry, let him down!” “He sneaked up on me,” Harry said, watching Mark through narrowed eyes. “He wants something.” “Just let him down and I’ll deal with him,” Hermione said irritably. “Gently!” she added quickly as she watched Harry get ready to just drop Mark. Harry glared at Mark as he lowered him slowly to the ground, letting go and making Mark land on his arse ungracefully. Hermione glared at Harry and was swiftly at Mark’s side, “Are you alright?” Mark glared up at Harry, who was still standing on his bed his eyes narrowed down at the intruder, and said, “I’m *fine*. But I thought dear old Harry here couldn’t speak?” “Well, now I can. Get out,” Harry said, rather rudely. “Harry!” Hermione scolded him, walking to him and smacking his arm. “Get back into the bed.” “But –” An angry look told him to think better of retorting, and he let his legs fold down to the bed and crawled under the covers. “I would like to see *you* outside,” Hermione said through gritted teeth, taking hold of Mark’s collar and dragging him out of the room. After slamming the door behind her and pushing him all the way out to the living room, she began to yell at him. “What the bloody *hell* did you think you were doing?! He could have killed you!” “No he couldn’t have,” Mark scoffed, waving a hand in disbelief. “He just dangled you upside down you *idiot*. I’m pretty damn sure he could have ripped you limb from limb or something,” she seethed, her face going slightly red. “Why did you apparate straight into my room anyway?” “I wanted to say hello,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “You apparate into the living room to do that, when I’m in my bedroom too,” she said tersely. “*Why* were you in there?” Mark shifted his body weight nervously and avoided her eye, “No reason.” Hermione breathed in very slowly through her mouth and then out through her nose, “Why were you in there?” “Well… I sort of… my boss dragged the thing about Potter out of me…” “Oh no,” Hermione groaned, closing her eyes and turning away from him. “You are certainly *not* getting a story out of him now,” she added harshly over her shoulder. “Why not?” he asked in surprise. “Hmm, okay Mark. You sneaked up on Harry and he certainly doesn’t trust you now. You told your boss about him when I *specifically* told you not to tell anyone. And you obviously don’t trust me,” she said, spinning around to glare at him and counting them off her fingers. “No! I trust *you*,” he said immediately, “I don’t trust *him*.” “He’s been confined to bed!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in indignation. “And you *know* I don’t cheat *or* lie, Mark.” “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve –” “Yes. I’m glad you realise that. Now, out you go.” “But Hermione –” “Out,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes at him. “Alright. I’ll owl you –” “No, you won’t,” she cut across him. “Leave.” He sighed and said, “Sorry,” before disapparating. Hermione glared at the spot he’d been at for a moment, before turning around to walk back into her room. Harry watched her slam her door behind her and glare angrily at him. He glared back at her, “He wanted something,” he said stubbornly. “You may be right about that, but you didn’t have to levitate him upside down!” she exclaimed, frowning and crossing her arms. “What else was I supposed to do? Let him apparate in and do something to me?” “Mark may be an idiot but he wouldn’t do anything to you,” Hermione said through gritted teeth. “Why was he in here then?” “He’s a reporter –” “It’s good that I levitated him upside down then. Reporters are no good busy –” She frowned and cut across him, “Do you think I’ve forgotten all that crap Rita Skeeter wrote about you? I know how you feel about reporters, which is why I kicked him out.” “Fine,” Harry muttered, sliding down in the bed to lie on his side. “How did you know he was coming?” Hermione asked, moving to sit on the bed next to him. “I don’t know, I just did,” Harry said stubbornly, glaring up at her. “Are you two broken up then?” “I don’t know and don’t change the subject.” “Hermione, he’s the one who barged in on me! Why aren’t you trying to hex him?!” “Because I want to know how on earth you knew he was coming!” she exclaimed, resisting the urge to smack his shoulder out of frustration. “I don’t know!” Harry replied, his face going slightly red. Hermione groaned in frustration and raised her hands to her eyes and rubbed them. “How do you think I feel Harry?” she asked suddenly, lowering her hands to gaze at him, “You just appear out of nowhere and you refuse to tell me anything and we just move on? You’re acting as though you just left yesterday!” “It feels as though I only left yesterday!” “Well, you didn’t,” she said firmly, feeling tears creep to the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away furiously and continued, “It was *five years ago* Harry. It’s taken me five years to get over your death and when you just *appeared* it brought everything back.” “I couldn’t help it,” he grumbled, glaring at her. “I *know* you couldn’t,” she replied, sighing. “Just think about how I feel. Seeing you again just reminds me of everything I lost because of Voldemort.” Harry was silent, looking down at his lap now. “Look, when you do know what happened, I want you to tell me,” she said softly, standing up. She began to leave the room but Harry called her back, “Hermione!” She turned around to see him trying to get out of the bed. She rushed back to him and helped him to his feet. “What is it?” He pulled her into a very tight hug and rested his head on the side of hers. “If you tell me what I’ve missed these past five years, I’ll tell you what happened after I defeated Voldemort,” he said softly to her ear, closing his eyes and breathing her smell in. “Why haven’t you told me before now?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly with emotion. “I didn’t want you to know,” he replied, pulling back to look at her face. “I didn’t want to scare you.” She gave him a small smile and turned her head to rest it upon his chest, “I honestly don’t care if you do,” she said softly, closing her eyes. “I just want to know why you were gone.” Harry nodded, “Can we go out into the living room then? I think I’ve had enough of the bedroom for now.” Hermione sniffed slightly and nodded, pulling back from him. “Can you walk?” He shrugged, “I can try.” So they made their way out of her bedroom and to the living room, Harry leaning heavily on Hermione. “Phew,” Hermione said as she helped Harry lower himself down onto the couch. “You’re heavy.” Harry laughed softly and rolled his eyes up at her, “You’re just weak Hermione.” She poked her tongue out at him and said, “You’re just fat Harry.” “Am not.” “Are too.” “Am not.” Hermione smiled and said, “Moving *on*, do you want a blanket? You’re still only in your trousers.” “No, it’s quite warm in here,” Harry said, shrugging slightly. “Sit down and I want to hear all about these past five years. What happened after Voldemort died?” --- **To be continued…** 4. Information -------------- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: Thanks to talianne for betaing and Sapphire Water Elf Princess for inspiring me to finish this chapter! This chapter you find out how Harry killed Voldie… and what happened to Hermione and the others after Harry left. And… Mark does something stupid. Anyway, I hope you like so please review!** **The Return** **Chapter Four: Information** “Well…” They sat there for a while, while Hermione told Harry all about the aftermath of the war. It had, in fact, taken a year for life to return back to a state of normality – or at least, as normal as people would ever get. Hermione explained what Dumbledore told her about what had happened to Harry, and what the whole world reacted with when they were told their saviour was missing. “I remember going into Diagon Alley for some supplies for my healing course,” Hermione said thoughtfully, “and the crowd would part as I passed through them. When I got to wherever I was going, someone would stop me and ask me where on earth you were or why I was hiding you. They refused to believe that you had just disappeared and I had no idea where you were.” “Oh,” Harry said softly, biting his bottom lip. “I honestly thought I’d go crazy,” she said, sighing and looking down at her hands. “I hated not knowing if you were okay, or even if you were alive. And then these people had the nerve to imply that I was hiding you so you didn’t have to deal with any publicity.” She paused and looked up at him. “I went to bed every day and I couldn’t help but cry myself to sleep. I felt so helpless and I honestly think I would’ve done something stupid if I hadn’t have met Mark.” Harry frowned, “You said you two have only been going out for six months.” “We have but I met him while I was training to be a healer. He had been out gathering information on a story involving escaped dragons or something, and he was injured across the chest. He was the first person I saved,” she said, smiling slightly and gazing past Harry, out the window. “The wounds he suffered were so serious that he still has to come back to St Mungo’s for check-ups every week. We became friends since I was the person he was probably going to see the most for the next few years, and he asked me out six months ago.” “Why do you like him?” Harry asked, frowning slightly. Hermione focused her eyes back on Harry and shrugged, “He reminded me of you.” “Oh,” he said softly, looking down at his hands. “Mark was almost like a substitute for you,” she said softly, leaning forward and taking his hands in hers. “He was sweet, sensitive and funny. He does look remarkably like you, except for his hair and eyes. And of course, your scar,” she said, glancing up at Harry’s forehead. Harry sighed, “I still don’t like him.” “I know, and don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near you again.” He nodded and relaxed slightly. “How are the Weasleys?” “They’re alright. I saw them about a month ago.” “Mrs Weasley?” “She’s doing well.” “Ginny?” “She’s married.” “Really?” Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “To who?” “Neville, actually,” Hermione said, smiling slightly. Harry grinned, “Good pair.” “Definitely.” “What about the rest of the Weasleys? Do Fred and George still run *Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes*?” Hermione bit her lip and looked away from Harry, “Well… they all died after you left to defeat Voldemort.” Harry frowned, “What?” Hermione sighed. “There was a raid on the Burrow. Ginny and Molly were with me that night, trying to work out what we could do to help you. Mr Weasley and all the boys were staying at the Burrow for one last night before going off to fight the Death Eaters. But Bellatrix and fifteen other Death Eaters surrounded the house and… I suppose they tore it apart. Once they found the Weasleys inside, they tortured them and… eventually killed them,” Hermione finished her sentence with a small sniff. “The next day we arrived back to find ministry Aurors and personnel poking around the remains of the house and inspecting the bodies. Molly… she almost blew her top when she saw them poking at Arthur.” She looked up to see Harry clenching his teeth, his face steadily going red. He grinded his jaw and said through his gritted teeth, “I hope the Death Eaters suffered exactly what they put the Weasleys through.” Hermione moved closer to Harry and slid her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. “When you killed Voldemort the Death Eaters all died. Dumbledore said something about the Dark Mark connecting them to Voldemort. It’s one of the reasons why Snape was so desperate to be rid of it after Dumbledore came to the conclusion that the Dark Mark was a connection of the mind and body.” Harry nodded, still clenching his teeth. “We were duelling some of them when it happened,” Hermione said softly. “They kind of went rigid and their eyes rolled into the back of their heads and they began to shake uncontrollably. They started to scream this… blood curdling, terrified scream. Then they fell to the ground and we could see their skin begin to shrink into their bodies.” She cringed slightly at the memory, “It was disgusting. The skin began to melt away like wax and we saw their blood bubbling as though it was boiling. They started spewing up blood when their skin was gone, but they weren’t dead yet. Molly was gazing down at them with this odd sort of smirk and Ginny was peeking out between her fingers. They only died when it seemed they had spewed up half of their blood.” She shuddered slightly and said, “The most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen.” She looked up at Harry and noticed he had gone completely rigid, “What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up and looking at him worriedly. “That’s what I did to Voldemort,” he said softly, biting his bottom lip and turning his head to look at her. Hermione’s eyes widened and she suddenly felt rather scared, “You did that?” He nodded. “But… how? I’ve never heard or read about a curse that can do that to someone.” “I’m not sure how I did it,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Voldemort had taken my wand from me…” --- *“Ha Potter, now what are you going to do?” Voldemort asked, grinning down at the fallen form of Harry as he kicked his wand aside. “How will you defeat me without your wand?”* *Harry raised his head to look up at the Dark Lord and gritted his teeth. “You won’t win Tom.”* *“Oh I’m pretty sure I already have Harry,” Voldemort replied, now smirking, the red slits of his eyes flashing slightly. He spread his arms and rose about two feet into the air before looking back down at Harry. “My Death Eaters have already killed almost all of your army. Your precious Mudblood will be the last I kill and I will make her watch me torture and murder every last person she loves. I will, however, have to spare her seeing you die though. I don’t think I should leave you alive any longer than I have,” he said, suddenly looking to the sky and raising his upturned palms up, almost looking as though he was calling to God.* *Harry gritted his teeth as he dragged himself to his feet. His side and stomach were stinging painfully, for Voldemort had managed to slash him with Godric Gryffindor’s sword before he tossed it aside to begin torturing Harry with the use of the Cruciatus Curse. It had sunk into the damp earth and Harry stumbled slightly as he pulled it out of the ground, focusing his eyes on the form of the Dark Lord, who was still gazing up at the heavens, seeming to gather all his power.* *“Bad move Tom,” Harry croaked before lunging forward and up to bury the sword into Voldemort’s stomach.* *Voldemort screamed and he dropped to the ground, clutching at the sword. “Potter!” he hissed, grimacing and gritting his teeth as he slid the sword out of his stomach. He got to his feet shakily and tossed the sword aside for the second time, “Did you think that would kill me?”* *“No, but it gave me time to prepare,” Harry replied, steadying his feet on the ground and clenching his fists. He closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them to reveal a divine white-blue light engulfing the whites of his eyes.* *Voldemort’s eyes widened and he immediately raised his own wand to send a curse at Harry, but Harry simply waved his hand at the offending wand. It flew out of Voldemort’s hand and stuck upright in the ground away from the Dark Lord.* *“Do you still think you’ll win?” Harry asked, advancing on Voldemort, unclenching his fists.* *“You can’t kill me Potter,” Voldemort spat, inching backwards, still on the ground.* *Harry laughed bitterly and leaned down to grab Voldemort by the collar, “Ah but you see dear old Tom; the prophecy states that I am the* only *one who can kill you.”* *“My Death Eaters will keep on fighting,” he said through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes at Harry.* *Harry laughed again and ripped the Dark Lord’s clothes apart, to reveal his chest. “Whatever you want to believe Tom,” he replied, lifting his arm to place his open fist on the centre of Voldemort’s chest.* *As he did so, the Dark Lord began to scream, and raised his own hand to plant it on the centre of Harry’s chest. Harry suddenly felt a very painful burning feeling in the centre of his chest and screamed, clenching at Voldemort’s skin slightly and somehow managing to send wave after wave of magic through his arm to Voldemort’s chest. He was vaguely aware of Voldemort’s skin beginning to seep through his fingers and slide down his arm, and re-doubled his efforts. He screamed out again as he placed his other hand on Voldemort’s bald head, which was almost devoid of skin – it had melted and disappeared that quickly.* *Tom screamed and removed his own hand from Harry’s chest and Harry suddenly felt a release and his own pain subsided. He looked down at the dying form of Lord Voldemort and cringed slightly as he watched the Dark Lord begin to spew his own blood up. He cringed again as he realised Voldemort’s skin was dripping off his forearm, and tried to wipe it off. He looked back at Voldemort to see his body shudder a couple of times before he went completely limp. Voldemort looked as though he was grinning up at Harry, almost as though he was the one who had won.* *“It’s over,” Harry croaked, before letting exhaustion overcome him, dropping to his knees and falling down onto his stomach. “He’s gone.”* --- They were silent for quite a while after Harry told Hermione what happened that day. She sat there, almost in shock, imagining what it must have been like to do… whatever Harry did to the Dark Lord. “I don’t know how I did it,” Harry said softly, “Or even how I knew *how* to do it.” He looked up at Hermione, “I just knew.” “Is that why you’ve got that scar?” Hermione asked, glancing at the hand print on Harry’s chest. Harry looked down at his chest and sighed, “Another souvenir I suppose. I think Voldemort tried to do whatever I did to him. But he was a little too late. And his hand wasn’t directly on my skin.” She nodded and looked away from him. “Are you alright?” he asked tentatively. She smiled weakly, “It just brings back memories. I know it’s one thing to actually do that to someone but when you’re surrounded by them and they all… turn into skinless zombies it’s just another thing altogether. I had nightmares for ages.” Harry sighed heavily and pulled her into a hug, “I shouldn’t have told you,” he said softly. “No,” she said, pulling back from him to look at his face. “No, you need to tell me. You need to get it out and I *need* to know what happened.” Harry nodded, “Alright. I won’t tell you anymore today though.” “Okay.” She sat up off him and looked at her watch, “It’s half past six!” she said in surprise. She looked up at him and asked, “What would you like for dinner?” Harry grinned, “Pizza?” Hermione smiled, “With everything on it?” “Except of course for anchovies and mushrooms,” he said, still grinning widely. “You still like that?” “I will never lose my taste for it,” Hermione said, smirking at him. “Are you alright to stay here while I go out and order it?” “Sure,” Harry said, moving back on the couch to swing his legs up on Hermione’s lap. “I’m quite comfortable here.” She laughed softly and stood up, pushing his legs off her. “I’ll be back soon then. Are you sure you don’t want a blanket?” “I’m fine. Quickly, get our pizza so we can eat and sit here and talk,” Harry said, swinging his legs back to the empty couch. Hermione quickly grabbed her purse and then left the apartment to walk down the road to the pizza place. Fifteen minutes later she had the pizza, along with some garlic bread and a couple of bottles of soft-drinks. Walking back towards her apartment, she noticed a crowd standing outside and shouting up in the vague direction of her apartment. “Harry,” she muttered, speeding her walking up. “Harry Potter has returned!” a man shouted, standing on the threshold of the entrance to the block of apartments. “Oh no,” Hermione murmured, closing her eyes and silently cursing Mark. “Excuse me,” she said, pushing past a few people. “Get in line,” someone said gruffly, “We all want to see Harry Potter.” Hermione rounded on the man and glared at him, “I live here.” “How do we know that?” She rolled her eyes and kept on pushing through the crowd. “Get out of my way,” she said stiffly to the man who was shouting to the crowd. “And why should I? Are you the one hiding Harry Potter?” he asked, looking pointedly at her. “I won’t dignify that question with an answer,” she replied angrily, glaring up at him. “Get out of my way.” “It’s Hermione Granger boss!” Mark’s voice shouted. “Oh.” A look of comprehension dawned on Mark’s boss’s face and he grinned. “Well, Miss Granger, are you going to let us in so we may thank our saviour?” “No,” Hermione said very firmly. “Why not?” “Even if Harry had come back to me, I doubt he would ever want to associate himself with someone such as you. He always hated reporters and I’m sure he wouldn’t hesitate in kicking you out himself,” she said curtly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to get into my apartment so I may eat my dinner and go to bed.” “You’re denying that Harry Potter has returned?” Hermione bit her lip and looked behind her. Mark was standing very close to her, at the foot of the steps leading up to the front door. He was frowning up at her with his arms crossed. She sighed and turned back to face the reporter, “I won’t ask you again. Please get out of my way.” “So he is back!” She narrowed her eyes and drew her wand from the pocket of her robes and pointed it at the man’s chin. “Move,” she said very softly. The reporter smirked and stepped aside. “Have a nice evening Miss Granger. By morning, half of the wizarding world will be at your doorstep.” --- **To be continued…** 5. Molly -------- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: Thank you Sapphire Water Elf Princess for the wonderful beta-ing! Well, I wrote this all on my lonesome, so I hope its ok. Small explanation as to why Hermione hasn’t fully expressed her feelings yet… that’ll be fully addressed next chapter. So, I hope you like! Please remember to review!** **The Return** **Chapter Five: Molly** *Last chapter…* *“You’re denying that Harry Potter has returned?”* *Hermione bit her lip and looked behind her. Mark was standing very close to her, at the foot of the steps leading up to the front door. He was frowning up at her with his arms crossed. She sighed and turned back to face the reporter,* *“I won’t ask you again. Please get out of my way.”* *“So he is back!”* *She narrowed her eyes and drew her wand from the pocket of her robes and pointed it at the man’s chin. “Move,” she said very softly.* *The reporter smirked and stepped aside. “Have a nice evening Miss Granger. By morning, half of the wizarding world will be at your doorstep.”* --- “We have a problem,” Hermione said quickly as she entered her apartment. Harry frowned and sat up on the couch slightly, “What’s happened?” “Mark told his boss about you,” she said, sighing heavily as she set the pizza down on the coffee table in front of him. He frowned, “And they’re outside now?” Hermione nodded, “I almost had to fight them to get back in.” Harry sighed, “They won’t apparate in, right?” “No, Mark learned from last time not to do that,” Hermione said reasonably. “Do you think you can apparate?” “I don’t know,” Harry said uncertainly, biting his bottom lip. “Look, don’t worry about them. I’ll deal with them if they try to get in, okay?” She sighed and sat down next to him, rubbing her eyes, “I never meant for anyone to find out about you before you were ready,” she said softly, leaning her head back against the couch. “I know,” he said reassuringly. He reached for the pizza and placed it on his lap, opening the box. “Let’s eat and we’ll worry about them in the morning.” Hermione nodded and they began to slowly eat the pizza. --- After they had finished their dinner they decided to go to bed. Once Harry was happily settled down in her bed, she said, “Now that you’re almost completely healed, I’m going to sleep out on the couch,” standing up off his bed. “No!” Harry protested immediately. “No Hermione, what if I need something in the night?” “Then call for me,” she said over her shoulder, going to her wardrobe and pulling out her pyjamas. “What if you don’t hear me?” She smiled and turned around to face him, her pyjamas across her forearm. “The apartment isn’t that big Harry.” “But…” Harry cast around for a reason for her to stay. He suddenly grinned and said, “What if those idiots try to come in the house?” “You mean the reporters?” “Yeah.” “I’m sure you can take care of yourself Harry.” “Come on Hermione, why don’t you want to sleep with me?” “Because it’s not necessary anymore,” she said reasonably, placing her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow at him. “That couch can’t be too comfortable and there’s heaps of room in here,” Harry pointed out patting his hands either side of him. “It’ll be warmer in here too.” “I can cast a warming charm you know,” she said, beginning to smirk at him. “But it’s so much nicer to have someone next to you,” he said, smirking back at her. Hermione smiled and turned her back on him, heading out of the bedroom, “Good night Harry!” she called over her shoulder. Harry sighed and watched her leave, not sure whether or not he should be watching the way her backside moved as she walked. --- “Hermione!” She sighed in her sleep and snuggled her head back into her pillow. “Wake up!” She suddenly felt a poking in her side and grunted, trying to move away from it. “Come on Hermione.” “Sleeping,” she muttered, swatting slightly at the poking. “No you’re not,” Harry’s voice said, sounding as though he was grinning widely. Hermione opened one eye and muttered, “What do you want?” “I have no one to talk to.” “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” she asked, sitting up and yawning widely, rubbing her eyes. “I can’t sleep.” She sighed and looked at him. “Why are you out of your bed?” she asked suddenly, her eyebrows rising worriedly. “How on earth did you get out here?” “Calm down Hermione,” he said soothingly, rubbing her arm. “But you’re not supposed to be walking!” “It took me an hour to get here Hermione, don’t send me back in there,” he said, looking at her in amusement. “Oh Harry,” she said exasperatedly, swinging her legs off the couch. “Why are you out here?” “I told you, I have no one to talk to.” “Well, I’m not very good conversation at three in the morning,” she said, standing up and walking sleepily towards the counter, where her wand lay. She yawned widely as she picked it up and twirled it at the couch, which then transformed into a bed the same size as the one in her room. “Get in,” she said, placing her wand back down and plodding back to the bed. “You don’t have to –” “Get in,” she repeated collapsing back down onto the bed and pulling her blanket back over her body. Harry couldn’t help but grin as he clambered onto the bed, tugging the blanket across his body. “Don’t steal it all,” Hermione grumbled, twisting her body to face Harry, trying to make sure the blanket still covered her. “I’m not trying to steal it all,” Harry replied, twisting his body to face Hermione. “Yes, well, why can I feel a breeze on my back then?” “Because the blanket is down to your waist,” he said, glancing down her body. She glanced down, “Oh.” He smiled and moved a little closer to tug it up her to her shoulder, “Better?” She nodded and looked back at him, “Yes. Would you like to sleep now?” “Alright. How will we sleep?” he asked innocently. Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes and turned over to sleep on her other side, “Like we normally do.” “Oh good,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist and snuggling up to her from behind. “You know, tomorrow night if you come out again you’ll stay out here and I’ll just move back to my room,” she said over her shoulder. “Then I’ll just make sure I cling onto you before you have a chance to leave me,” he murmured to her ear. She smiled and didn’t respond. --- “We are not apparating there,” Hermione said firmly, buttoning Harry’s shirt up for him. “I’m sure I can though –” “You’ll probably splinch yourself,” she said reasonably, finishing his shirt and stepping back. “I will not!” “We’re going to Floo over to Molly’s and that’s final.” “But I don’t like –” “It’s either that, or we go outside to face a giant crowd. And I’ve already Flooed Molly to tell her we’re coming.” Harry scowled and crossed his arms, “Fine.” --- When Harry and Hermione tumbled out of Molly’s fireplace, Molly was sure she was dreaming. There, sprawled uncomfortably on the ground was Harry. Wasn’t he supposed to be dead? Did this mean none of it had happened? Did it mean that her husband and sons were still alive? Hermione brushed herself off quickly and stood up to walk to Molly, who had frozen in the doorway. “Molly?” she said tentatively, placing a hand softly on her shoulder. Molly raised her eyes to meet Hermione’s and said in a very soft voice, “Was it all a dream then?” Hermione’s face fell and she lowered her eyes to the ground. Molly looked back at Harry who was now sitting up, trying to clean himself of soot. She bit her lip as tears came to her eyes and moved a little closer to Harry. “This is why I hate the Floo Network,” Harry grumbled, attempting to kneel up to stand up. He fell back to his bottom and scowled, “Stupid legs.” He finally looked up to see Molly gazing down at him with tears in her eyes and her bottom lip trembling. “Harry?” she whispered hoarsely, extending a hand to him. Harry took her hand and Hermione rushed to help pull him up to his feet. “Hi Molly,” Harry said, once he was standing steadily. “Harry,” she whispered again, launching herself on top of him, hugging him tightly to her, making him feel as though his bones were being crushed. “Oh God, we thought you were dead,” she muttered, the tears trickling down her cheeks. “It’s okay Molly,” Hermione said softly, rubbing the old woman’s back. Harry was silent as Molly hugged him, finally knowing the depth of devastation people like Molly had to go through. He simply tried to support her as she cried hopelessly and clung onto him. “Come on Molly,” Hermione said, trying to pry her arms from Harry. Molly pulled back and looked up at Harry worriedly, as though she knew he was going to leave her again. “We’ll go into the living room, okay?” Hermione suggested. Molly nodded and sniffed slightly, “I’ll put the kettle on.” “Come on Harry,” Hermione said, slipping an arm around his waist and beginning to help him towards the living room. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, stopping walking and pulling Hermione around to face him. “What for?” “For not coming back sooner,” he said, gazing after Molly, “I… I didn’t think people would *want* me to come back after they lost everything.” His bottom lip trembled slightly and he looked down. “Oh Harry,” Hermione sighed, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re back now and that’s all that matters,” she whispered, tears close to escaping the corners of her eyes. She sniffed and pulled back to kiss his cheek tenderly. “Come on. Molly will be waiting.” They made their way into the living room and sat down, waiting for Molly to come out of the kitchen. “I’ll go help her,” Hermione said suddenly, standing up quickly. Harry nodded and watched Hermione leave the living room. “I did floo ahead,” Hermione said softly as she helped Molly place three cups of tea on a tray. “I didn’t believe you,” Molly said wearily, sniffing again. “Sugar?” Hermione shook her head and asked, “Have you told Ginny?” Molly shook her head, “No.” “Should we ask her to come over now?” Molly shrugged and picked the tray up with trembling hands, “I don’t know.” “Let me take that,” Hermione said softly, taking the tray from Molly. “How can you not burst into tears and cry hysterically?” Molly asked suddenly, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks again. Hermione sighed and placed the tray back down, “If I cry then I’m afraid I won’t stop,” she said softly. “Harry honestly needs me to be strong for him at the moment. He’s still healing from whatever he’s been through these past five years. I can’t cry.” Molly nodded and picked the tray up, with firm hands now. The pair left the kitchen and went back into the living room to Harry, who was sitting very patiently on the couch still. “Sugar, Harry dear?” Molly asked as she placed the tray down on the coffee table. “No thank you,” he said, leaning forward and taking his cup and saucer. --- **To be continued…** 6. Madness ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: Thanks to Sapphire Water Elf Princess for the beta-ing! Ok… a bigger chapter than the last now. This chapter Hermione cries… and we see the first snog between our favourite couple. The ending is… a bit of a cliffy. And I wasn’t sure about what Harry does, but whatever. I hope you like it! Please review!** **The Return** **Chapter Six: Madness** “So the press have found out?” Molly asked, sipping her tea. “Mark found out and he said that his boss dragged it out of him,” Hermione said, glaring down at her tea. “I think he couldn’t wait to tell everyone.” “Well, Harry will have to face them sooner or later,” Molly said reasonably, placing her cup and saucer down on the coffee table. “What do you think Harry?” He sighed and said, “I don’t like wasting my time with reporters.” Molly smiled, “Rita Skeeter?” Harry smiled grimly, “Yes.” “Not all reporters are like her Harry,” Molly said reasonably. “We thought Mark wasn’t like that,” Hermione interjected, “I thought I could trust him.” “At least you know now that you can’t. The wizarding world will want to know what happened to you Harry. They will argue that you owe them an explanation.” “But –” “You don’t owe anyone anything,” Molly said firmly, cutting across Harry. “If you want to and when you are ready, then you can tell the wizarding world where you’ve been. But don’t cave in to them Harry.” “I won’t,” Harry said, placing a hand on Molly’s knee. “And… I’m sorry about Arthur and Fred and George and…” “I know,” Molly said softly, rubbing his hand softly. She smiled weakly, “They’d be so happy that you’re back, Harry.” He smiled back and pulled her into a hug. --- “You two should be getting back home now,” Molly said, after they’d had lunch. “I think I’ve tired Harry out,” she added with a small smile. Harry grinned apologetically, “Why don’t you come back with us then?” he asked. “No, I’ll be alright here,” Molly insisted, “I have some things to do.” “Okay,” Hermione stood up, and pulled Harry up with her. She hugged Molly tightly and said, “Thanks.” “No, thank you,” Molly replied quietly, kissing Hermione’s cheek quickly and rubbing her back. Hermione smiled and stepped back to allow Molly to hug Harry. “Don’t you dare leave without telling me again,” Molly muttered and she pulled Harry into a hug. “You’re the last of my boys now.” “I promise,” Harry said, hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek softly. “Okay. Now, off you two go,” Molly said, pulling back from Harry and drawing her robes around her body tightly. “Come and see me some time soon.” “We will,” Harry said immediately as Hermione moved back to start to help him to the fireplace. “Could you ask Ginny to Floo around to my place tomorrow?” Hermione asked Molly. Molly smiled and nodded, “Sure.” --- “Next time, Molly is coming here,” Harry grumbled as he sat up to try to wipe his clothes clean of soot for the second time that day. Hermione smiled and helped him stand up, “Baby.” “Is there still a crowd outside?” Harry asked, ignoring her last comment. “Let me get you to the couch and I’ll check,” she said, grunting slightly as he leaned on her. “Why haven’t you cried like Molly did?” Harry asked suddenly, frowning slightly. Hermione sighed and said, “If I start I won’t stop.” “Oh,” Harry said softly. “But shouldn’t you cry?” “I don’t like crying,” she said as they reached the couch. Harry sat down and said confusedly, “But it lets out emotions. If you don’t cry it gets all bottled up inside and then it’ll eventually explode in a giant wave.” “I won’t let it,” Hermione said stubbornly, walking to the window to look out at the street. She scowled, “They’re still there. The crowd’s gotten bigger too.” “Hermione stop avoiding the subject,” Harry said firmly, looking up at her. She turned around to face him and glared at him, “If I show my emotions, you might leave again. It’s what you did last time. I wouldn’t be able to deal…” “I’m *not* leaving again,” Harry said softly, standing up off the couch. He limped towards her and she moved forward quickly to catch him before he fell. “I couldn’t ever leave again,” he said softly, gazing into her eyes. “You can’t guarantee that,” she said, frowning as she moved him back to the couch. He didn’t sit down; instead, he grabbed her hands to stop her from pushing him down, “Stop it,” he said sharply, now glaring at her. She narrowed her eyes and tried to pull away, “No, you stop it.” “Don’t you trust me?” he asked, holding her steadily. “Of course I trust you,” she said weakly, still trying to tug her arms away from him. “Then why won’t you let your emotions out?” She stopped struggling and closed her eyes, breathing hard through her nose. She opened her eyes, “I don’t want to.” Harry frowned, “But you have to.” “No I don’t.” “Stop being so stubborn!” Hermione glared at him, “Don’t tell me what to do Harry.” Harry glared back at her, “Then what are you going to do Hermione? Take care of me, fine, but if you don’t cry or let any of this emotion out you’ll turn bitter and you’ll start lashing out at people.” “How do you know?” “Because I did it.” Silence. “Don’t you remember fifth year? Or sixth year?” he asked, almost desperately. “Especially after Sirius died, I didn’t say anything and I didn’t do anything. I never cried and I never let any of that emotion out until you forced me to at the end of sixth year.” Hermione’s bottom lip trembled slightly as she said, “But I’m scared.” “Don’t be,” he said soothingly, letting go of her wrists. “I’m not leaving and no one is taking me away from you again.” She bit her bottom lip and raised her eyes to the ceiling, trying to blink back tears. She felt Harry touch her chin to look at him and he said, “Don’t.” So she stopped holding her tears in. They burst forth and trickled down her cheeks and she sobbed into Harry’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her body and held her close as she cried, her tears staining his shirt. They sat down and Hermione let Harry pull her on top of him, as he lay down. She rested her head on his chest and let her tears fall down her cheeks to his chest. They lay there the whole day while Hermione cried until she had no more tears left to cry. After a long while she sat up slightly off him to gaze up at his face. He was watching her peacefully; the faint trail of his tears slightly visible. She reached up to wipe his tears off his cheeks with her thumbs before lying back down on top of him. She then noticed the stain of her tears on his shirt and sat up again. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, frowning slightly. She smiled weakly and said, “I’ve stained your shirt.” Her fingers found their way to his buttons and she undid them, very aware of the way her stomach jumped when she parted the shirt. He sat up slightly and she pushed the shirt off his shoulders and tugged it out from under him, to drop it on the floor. She raised her eyes back to his to find him watching her and looking very amused. “Are you okay now?” he asked, taking her hands in his. She smiled and nodded, “I’ll be fine. Thank you Harry.” “Any time Hermione,” he said softly. She smiled again and leaned forward to kiss his cheek softly. When she pulled back she found his face less than an inch from hers, their noses almost touching. She bit her lip as she realised she could feel his bare skin across her midriff, where her shirt had risen slightly. His eyes were watching her interestedly, inviting her to move forward to attach her lips to his. “I should get some dinner,” she said softly, not moving from her position. “Maybe,” he replied, moving his arms around to rest them on the small of her back. “Don’t you want dinner?” “You know what I want,” he whispered. She bit her lip again and closed her eyes, intending to resist him. But she felt his soft lips on hers and couldn’t help but give in to him, letting his mouth overcome her protests, and almost purring in delight as he probed her mouth with his tongue. The kiss ended and her eyes flew open to look at his. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly, kissing her lips tenderly again. “I’ve missed you too,” she whispered, kissing him back. He smiled happily and wrapped his arms around her body, hugging her tightly. They lay there gazing into each other’s eyes for a moment before she said, “Are you going to tell me where you’ve been?” Harry sighed and looked away from her, “Okay. Do you want me to tell you now?” “By all means,” a male voice sounded from the other side of the couch, “Do tell us the story of Harry Potter.” “Mark!” Hermione exclaimed, rolling off Harry to the floor ungracefully, squeaking slightly as she landed on her feet unsteadily. “What are *you* doing in here?” Harry sneered at Mark, sitting up slightly. The right corner of Mark’s lips uplifted in a smirk, “I’m here for the story, Harry. The crowd outside is getting rather impatient.” “Well they’ll have to wait,” Hermione said quickly, “How did you get in here without me knowing?” “I’ve been here for a while,” he said very calmly, “While you were out, I apparated in here.” “Get out,” Harry said, standing up and turning to glare at him. “All I want is your story Harry,” Mark said, holding his hands up in defence. “And maybe something of mine back.” He glanced at Hermione. “I don’t believe I took anything,” Harry said, raising one eyebrow and taking a sidelong glance at Hermione. “Mark, please just leave,” Hermione said quickly, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I don’t think Harry is up for an interview.” “On the contrary Hermione,” Mark said curtly, “I think Harry is most certainly up for an interview.” Harry narrowed his eyes and extended his arm towards Mark, fingers clenching the air. Mark’s collar suddenly bunched up and he rose into the air a few feet. “I don’t associate myself with reporters,” Harry said, making Mark hover over towards the balcony windows. They sprung open and Harry limped forward, moving Mark out into the open. “Okay, okay, okay,” Mark said quickly, his eyes widening and his hands going to his collar to try to release whatever grip Harry had on him. “I’ll leave! Just don’t hurt me!” Harry smiled and moved Mark higher into the air, hearing the crowd below gasp suddenly as they noticed a lone figure hovering high up in the air. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Harry said, limping forward, ignoring Hermione tugging on his arm. “Harry, stop it!” Harry shook her hands off him and moved Mark further, over the edge of the balcony. He limped to the edge of the balcony and called out to Mark, “Don’t come back!” before slowly lowering him down to the ground safely. The crowd helped Mark to his feet and he glared up at Harry. “You *idiot*!” Hermione exclaimed, smacking Harry’s arm, hard. “Ouch!” “You don’t just dangle people from balconies Harry!” “He snuck into our house and listened to us talking!” “I would have dealt with him,” she seethed, tugging him away from the edge of the balcony, away from the eyes of the large crowd. Once they were inside, with the doors shut and the curtains closed so no one flying around on a broomstick could see in, she turned and slapped him again. “Ouch!” “Now *everyone* knows you’re back you idiot!” she yelled, her face going bright red. “Good for them,” Harry said sullenly, turning away from her and limping slowly towards the couch. “Oh no Harry,” she said angrily moving to stand in front of him, “No, you’re not just going to forget this happened. The bloody Aurors might be sent down to take care of you if they think you’re dangerous!” “Well, I am,” Harry said, rather calmly. “What?” Hermione snapped, glaring up at him. He glared back at her and said harshly, “I could kill everyone within a ten mile radius of myself if I wanted to, Hermione. I could force the sea to open wide and swallow the land whole.” “No you couldn’t,” she said, suddenly looking worried. Harry laughed bitterly, “Yes, I could.” “How on earth could you do something like that?” He rolled his eyes, “Where do you think I was Hermione?” “You haven’t told me,” she said angrily, gritting her teeth and glaring at him. “I was stuck, okay?” he burst out, throwing his hands up. “I was sent to this odd… place where… I dunno; time seemed to have stopped. It’s why when I came back I still had these injuries.” Hermione looked at him confusedly, “What?” Harry sighed exasperatedly and began to explain… --- **To be continued…** 7. Reminiscence --------------- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: Mmm’kay. Giant thanks to my wonderful friend** **Afton** **for the chapter title. More giant thanks to the wonderful talianne who beta-ed and to the wonderful Lang for looking over it first and reassuring me… actually, thank you to both of you because you brought me out of a block! *huggles both of you* Yay! Ok, most of this chapter is a flashback. Hopefully it’ll be… well, not what you expected but I hope you like it. If you did expect it… lol meh. Please review! Oh… and excuse the American comment down there… I’m just kinda sick and tired of people who try to integrate** **America** **into HP… Suethors particularly. And they have British people saying “mom” and it’s like NO. Sorry… lol please read and review!** --- **The Return** **Chapter Seven: Reminiscence** *White, hot pain.* *In his chest.* *Pure pain.* *It was all he felt. He gritted his teeth and made a strangled groan in the back of his throat, curling into the foetal position, rocking forwards and backwards to try to make the pain subside, even a little.* *“Harry.”* *That voice… so familiar. But… not so familiar at the same time.* *“Come on honey,” the voice whispered. Harry suddenly felt a pair of hands attempt to roll him over onto his back. “Oh dear. You really did get into a fight, didn’t you?”* *Harry opened his eyes slightly and squinted up at the person. He frowned slightly, looking at beautiful, long red hair. “Mum?” he managed to croak, opening his eyes properly.* *She came into focus and he saw her smiling sadly, “Hello Harry.”* *Harry looked around; there wasn’t much to look at actually. It was pretty bright, and all he could make out was a single blood red couch a little further away from him. He looked back at his mother, “Where am I?”* *“Well, you’re not dead,” she said, standing up. She helped Harry up and slowly helped him over to the couch.* *“That would explain why I’m in so much pain,” Harry winced, feeling as though his chest wanted to cave in on itself.* *Lily smiled and helped Harry lie down on the couch, before sitting down the end his head was at, and placing it on her lap. “I’m so sorry Harry, and I would do something about that pain if I could,” she said, brushing his messy hair away from his face. She smiled sadly again and said, “But it’s not time for you to die yet.”* *“Then where am I?” he asked.* *“I suppose you could call it a… sort of Limbo,” she slowly, glancing around. “See, that window leads to eternal damnation,” she said, pointing at a floor length window, with yellow flames dancing around behind the glass. “And that one,” she pointed to another floor length window, with pure white light flooding in to the room, “Leads to… well, I suppose it leads to heaven,” she said, shrugging slightly.* *“Where did you come from?” Harry asked, raising one eyebrow.* *Lily smiled and glanced at the window with the bright light flooding through. “I can’t tell you that Harry.”* *He nodded and winced slightly as a sharp stabbing pain was felt in his abdomen. “Why am I here?” he asked through gritted teeth.* *“Because someone tried to kill you and didn’t succeed fully,” she said softly, glancing down his body and wincing as she noticed the large blood stains on his shirt.* *“But I killed Voldemort,” Harry said confusedly, frowning slightly. “Don’t tell me I didn’t,” he groaned, gritting his teeth again and clutching at his stomach as another sharp stabbing pain was felt there.* *“No honey, calm down. Voldemort is dead,” she said quickly, placing a hand on top of his head and rubbing his forehead with a thumb. “Your world is free.”* *Harry nodded and relaxed slightly, “Good.” He grimaced again and asked, “How did I get here?”* *Lily paused, looking slightly uncertain. “People end up here when… they die… but they don’t. Voldemort ended up here for a while after he killed me and your father, when you defeated him then.”* *“That’s why no one could find him for so long,” Harry said suddenly.* *His mother nodded, “He was here for nine years in your world’s time before he found a way to break out. He returned as an apparition.”* *“Does that mean if I go back I’ll be like him?”* *Lily smiled, “No. Voldemort appeared here without anyone to guide him. We knew you were coming so I was sent down to wait for you.”* *“We?”* *Lily smiled again, “I can’t tell you everything Harry.”* *Harry nodded, “Well, how did you know I was coming?”* *“Dumbledore,” she said simply.* *Harry frowned, “He can contact the dead?”* *“I’m not exactly sure what he did. All I know is he appeared to the… ‘Big Guy Upstairs’,” she shrugged, “and told him that Voldemort had found out what the prophecy really said. Voldemort cast some sort of charm on himself so that if you did manage to kill him, you would die with him.”* *“So, why aren’t I dead yet?”* *“Because Dumbledore countered it. For his silence in what happened we agreed to help you.”* *“His silence?”* *“People down there can’t know about this place. Only the people who have been here and are worthy of returning are given the choice of whether or not to say where they’ve been. Voldemort never said anything because he never wanted anyone to know that he had been that close to death. And the only reason he managed to escape was because he used his brain; people before him had given up within the first few hours of being here.”* *Harry frowned and tried to sit up. He did so, wincing as his sore muscles tensed. Once sitting and breathing a little harder than normal he reached down to raise his shirt to inspect his wounds. “Ouch,” he muttered, biting down hard on his bottom lip as he peeled the shirt off his stomach. “Are you sure you can’t do anything about this?” he asked Lily through gritted teeth again.* *She shook her head, “I have to leave your wounds alone for Hermione to heal them when you go back.”* *Harry’s eyes shot wide open when he heard Hermione’s name, “She’s still alive?” he asked quickly.* *Lily smiled, “Yes.”* *“Is she okay?”* *“She’s fine Harry. The war has ended and she’s trying to rebuild her shattered life,” Lily said sadly, sighing heavily.* *Harry breathed a sigh of relief, leaning his head back on the back of the couch, “Alright,” he muttered, closing his eyes. “Do I have to go back?”* *“You can go back now if you want.”* *Harry sighed and shrugged, slumping his shoulders. “I dunno. Would people want me to come back? I mean, I’ve killed Voldemort so I’ve served my purpose.”* *Lily smiled and slide across the couch to put an arm around her son, “You have more purpose than just to kill Voldemort Harry.”* *“Like what?” he asked dully, wincing as he softly trailed a finger along a shallow cut on the left side of his abdomen.* *“Like living your life out, finding someone to love and making a family with them,” Lily said, reaching down to take his hand away from his stomach. “Harry, you’ve got the chance to go back and start all over. Don’t you want to see people like Hermione or Mrs Weasley again?”* *Harry sighed, “They’ve lost so much because of me. I don’t want to go back to face them.”* *“You think they’ll move on and not care anymore?”* *Harry nodded.* *“Harry, you’ve known Hermione for seven years. Why would she not want you to come back?” Lily asked reasonably. “She loves you, even now. I know before you left you two told each other how you felt.” Harry blushed slightly and Lily laughed, “I think it’s great you’ve got someone like Hermione.”* *“How do you know she loves me?” Harry asked, almost helplessly.* *“You don’t* know *something like that. You can feel it whenever you look at them, whenever you talk to them. When you touch them,” Lily trailed off, gazing at the blank wall. She shook her head slightly and looked back at Harry, “We did watch you two, you know. All of that running around you did in your sixth year made your father so frustrated.”* *“Dad? Can I see him?” Harry asked, sitting up slightly.* *Lily bit her lip and shook her head, “I’m the only one allowed down here until you leave.”* *“Oh. Okay,” Harry sighed, sitting back.* *“He loves you Harry,” Lily said softly, rubbing Harry’s shoulder softly. “He wanted to come down but only one person was allowed.”* *Harry nodded and moved his shirt a little further up, over his chest and past the place Voldemort had placed his hand. There, his skin was scarred; a burn scar in the shape of Voldemort’s hand.* *Lily winced as she saw it, “He tried to do the same thing you did to him,” she said softly.* *“I know,” Harry said, not daring to touch it.* *“There’s another reason you’re here Harry. I mean, apart from the fact Voldemort cast that charm of his and we countered it,” Lily said suddenly, as though she had just remembered it.* *“So?”* *“When you defeated Voldemort the first time, he accidentally… gave you some of his powers. Since you didn’t actually kill him then, that power didn’t do much, except give you the ability to speak Parseltongue. When you killed him, the explosion of magic from within him washed over you,” she said, sighing softly. “You’re ten times stronger than you were before you… ended up here.”* *Harry frowned and said slowly, “Okay.”* *“Which means you’re going to have to exercise a lot more control over your magic,” his mother added quickly. “You’ll sense when people apparate in and you can, essentially, read minds like Voldemort did.”* *Harry’s mind cast back to the end of his fourth year when Voldemort told him his ‘real family’ was returning, just before the Death Eaters apparated in the grave yard. He sighed and said, “So I’ve got Voldemort’s powers now.”* *Lily nodded.* *“Great,” Harry said unenthusiastically.* *“Are you alright?” Lily asked tentatively.* *“You mean apart from the fact I almost died, I have these serious wounds on my body and I just found out I have Voldemort’s power?” Harry asked, looking up at her. “I’m fantastic mum.”* *Lily couldn’t help but smile, “Oh Harry. It’s really not that bad. You’re still alive and you can go back to Hermione.”* *“What about the media?”* *“You’ll deal with that when the time comes,” Lily said firmly. “It’ll be okay.”* *Harry nodded and leaned over to kiss his mother on the cheek. “Thanks mum,” he whispered.* *She smiled and hugged him before allowing him to sit back in the couch. “Do you want to go home now?”* *Harry breathed in deeply and then let his breath out slowly through his mouth, “Yes.”* *“A lot of time will have passed when you arrive back there. When I asked you if you wanted to go back, only six months had passed. A lot more time has passed than that though, but I’m not sure how much.” She paused, “I’m sending you to Hermione’s living room floor. You won’t be able to say any other words than the one you think of most for a while.”* *Harry nodded and watched his mother stand up in front of him to help him up. Once he was standing with Lily holding his hands, she smiled one last time and said, “I love you Harry. And I’m so proud of you.”* *Then… everything went black for a moment. Harry could feel his body begin to shake violently and soon felt very wet and very cold. He screamed out as his chest contracted and then he felt himself collapse on the ground.* *“H-H-Hermione.”* *“I’m here.”* --- During Harry’s story, Hermione had helped him back to the couch and gave him the blanket they had slept under the night before. Once he was finished, she found herself sitting there, almost in shock. “You don’t know how frustrating it was to not be able to say anything else,” Harry remarked, drawing the blanket closer to his body. “I mean, I do love your name but I just wanted to *say* what I wanted.” Hermione nodded vaguely, gazing past the wall, her eyes slightly glazed over. “Hermione?” “My name is the word you think of most?” she asked softly, focusing her eyes back on Harry. Harry smiled and nodded, “Yeah.” Hermione smiled back and leaned into him, slipping her arms around his waist. “I’m still angry at you for what you did to Mark though,” she said softly, but firmly. He sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have more control.” “You should,” Hermione said, looking up at him, “But now I know why you’ve got that power, I think I’ll let it go for now. My only problem is that everyone knows for sure that you’re back now. And Mark might send in Aurors on us.” “No he won’t,” Harry said, shrugging, “The story is too good for me to be locked up. They wouldn’t be able to keep me confined anyway,” he added as an afterthought. Hermione was silent for a moment before asking tentatively, “Could you make the sea ‘swallow the land whole’?” Harry grinned apologetically, “Sorry, I was being a little overdramatic. I could cause a small tsunami though.” She nodded, seeming satisfied with his answer. “Do you think the world deserves to know how you came back?” she asked. He sighed and shrugged, “I dunno. What if people try to use it to their advantage?” “Then what will you tell them?” “That I’ve been cooling down in America?” Hermione threw him a disdainful look and he smiled apologetically, “Come on, nothing happens over there.” Hermione couldn’t help but smile and poked his stomach softly, “Seriously Harry.” “Seriously? I have no idea,” he said, shrugging. “You’re really the only one I want knowing where I was. And maybe Molly and Ginny, but that’s it.” She smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek softly, “Then how about we just say that you have no idea where you were, or how you got back. And all you want to do is get on with your life?” Harry grinned and leaned down to kiss her lips, “Alright.” He stiffened slightly as he sensed someone about to appear in the room. “Someone’s coming,” he said quickly, frowning. A second later, ten loud cracks sounded and the room was filled with hooded wizards surrounding the couch, all pointing their wands at Harry. “Move away from Potter, Hermione,” the voice of Mad Eye Moody sounded behind one of the hoods. --- **To be continued…** 8. Conspiracy ------------- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: Oh… my… God. I’m so sorry for the wait guys! Wahh I’m so mean! And with that cliffie… man, I’m sorry! Giant thanks to all of you for being so patient… and to the wonderful talianne812 who betaed for me. And… a small apology to anyone who was offended by my comments last chapter. I was merely expressing my irritation at the differences in the English language. I mean, come on, we survived for hundreds of years spelling English “properly” and then Webster decides it’d be nice to change some of it so it’s “easier” to spell. I just don’t see the point. Small things like that irritate me, just be glad you don’t have to listen to me ramble on about it.** **Anyway! This chapter… Moody isn’t so referred to. I’m sorry, I kinda made him a major *gasp* character in the last chapter. Oh well… I hope you like it, and I hope you’ll forgive me for how short it is. This is an official notice though – this story is being put on pause indefinitely. Trials sweeties… they hurt. In two weeks I will have finished my exams for now and hopefully I’ll be able to write new chapters. But I’m not sure. Also, if you’ve got a problem with how much Shacklebolt trusts Hermione, remember that they fought in the war together. He has immense respect for her intelligence.** **I hope you like this chapter!** --- **The Return** **Chapter Eight: Conspiracy** *Last Chapter…* *“Someone’s coming,” he said quickly, frowning.* *A second later, ten loud cracks sounded and the room was filled with hooded wizards surrounding the couch, all pointing their wands at Harry.* *“Move away from Potter, Hermione,” the voice of Mad Eye Moody sounded behind one of the hoods.* --- “Please move, Ms Granger,” Kingsley Shacklebolt’s voice sounded behind another hood. Hermione frowned and said, “No. What on earth do you want?” “Potter,” Moody growled, moving forward slightly. “Why?” “He just dangled a man off the balcony and dropped him to the ground!” a younger voice said quickly, sounding rather outraged. “Yes well, that man broke in here in the hopes of catching a story,” Harry said calmly, standing up. “If you want to arrest someone, it should be him.” “You don’t tell us who to –” “Is this true Ms Granger?” Shacklebolt cut across the younger wizard, lowering his wand slightly. “Yes,” Hermione said exasperatedly. “Harry and I were talking and Mark… appeared to tell us he wanted to know where Harry’s been so he could write an article about it. Harry cast a levitating charm and levitated Mark out of the apartment and from the balcony down to the ground, *safely*,” she explained, putting much emphasis on ‘safely’. The Aurors paused for a moment before Shacklebolt lowered his wand with a small sigh. “Alright. Lower your wands,” he ordered the other Aurors. With some low muttering, the wands were soon put away and Shacklebolt removed his hood. His face had a large scar down his left cheek, but apart from that he still looked the same as when Harry had last seen him. “You’ll still need to come with us,” Kingsley said, glancing at the scar on Harry’s chest. “Just for a statement, we’re not going to lock you up Harry,” he said, seeing Harry look unsure. Harry continued to look unsure and he asked, “Would you be willing to let me use Legilimency on you to prove you’re not lying to me?” Kingsley paused and then said, “Alright.” “Just… look at my eyes. It won’t be painful if you *let* me look,” Harry said, “Ready?” Kingsley nodded and focused his eyes on Harry’s. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them, that divine white-blue light flooding the whites of his eyes again. He gazed past Kingsley’s exterior through to the depths of his mind, sorting through memory after memory… --- *“*Crucio*!” a Death Eater screamed at a young woman on the ground, pointing his wand at her.* *“No!” Kingsley shouted, launching himself in the path of the curse. It hit him, and he fell to the ground, writhing and screaming in pain.* *The young woman quickly jumped to her feet and yelled, “*Stupefy*!” The Death Eater, certainly not expecting such a turn of events, didn’t shield himself and fell to the ground, unconscious.* *Kingsley stopped shuddering in pain, and lay on his stomach, groaning and breathing very hard.* *“You idiot,” the woman muttered angrily, crouching down next to him. “I thought I told you I didn’t need protecting?”* --- “Sorry,” Harry muttered, faltering slightly, “Wrong memory.” --- *“… and he just dropped me to the ground! I was lucky someone cast a softening charm on the ground before I landed,” Mark said defiantly, glaring at Kingsley.* *“Do you have witnesses who can verify this?” Kingsley asked, almost sounding bored.* *“The people who helped me up off the ground.”* *Kingsley sighed and stood up from his desk, “Alright. We’ll go over there, but we’re not arresting anyone until I hear Potter’s side. And what Ms Granger has to say.”* *“He could’ve killed me!”* *“Yes, but he didn’t. I don’t arrest people solely on one person’s word. Or a reporter’s word.”* --- “Alright.” The white-blue light faded away from Harry’s eyes and he stepped back from Kingsley. “I’ll come with you.” Kingsley nodded and turned back to the rest of the Aurors. “You will escort Mr Potter back to my office. I’ll be back very soon; I’d just like to try to find this Mark person in the crowd.” The Aurors nodded and Hermione frowned and spoke up, “I’m going with Harry.” “No you’re not!” the younger voice who’d objected before said suddenly. Hermione glared at the hood where the voice had come from and said in a very firm voice, “He’s still wounded. I’m a qualified healer and I’m taking care of him.” “Ms Granger goes with you,” Kingsley said firmly, “Don’t speak up like that again, Preston.” The hot-headed Auror’s hood drooped as he held his head in sorrow slightly. “Sorry Mr Shacklebolt.” “Have you got a portkey for Harry?” Hermione asked pointedly. “You need a shirt too,” she muttered, turning around and fetching his shirt from the couch, helping it over his shoulders. Preston reached into the pocket of his robes and brought forth an assortment of muggle marbles. He waved his wand over them and they turned blue for a moment, before handing them to Harry. After another second, Harry felt the jerk behind his navel, meaning he had been transported safely. --- “I don’t like the way that Preston spoke back to you,” Harry muttered darkly while he and Hermione were waiting in Shacklebolt’s office. “I agree,” Hermione said, glaring over her shoulder at the closed door leading out to the rest of the department. “It’s like he wanted to take you away for himself.” Harry nodded, “He did. You remember how Voldemort could tell when people were lying to him?” Hermione nodded. “’Preston’ was feeling terribly guilty and excited as he objected to you coming with us,” Harry said thoughtfully. “But I don’t see why he’d want to…” “Do you think Mark might have… bribed some of them to bring you straight to him?” Hermione asked suddenly, sitting up and turning to look at Harry worriedly. “Unless he wanted me to smash him into the street the next time I dangled him off a balcony,” Harry said, frowning. “Maybe it’s got something to do with the media as a whole.” “Maybe,” she agreed, pursing her lips and gazing back at the door. “Shacklebolt’s coming,” Harry said suddenly. Hermione focused her attention back to her front, and a moment later Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared on the other side of his desk. “We found this Mark individual,” he said tersely. “And?” Harry asked irritably. “I’ve got some men questioning –” “Are you sure that’s wise?” Hermione asked. “Why on earth wouldn’t it be?” “It depends who you’ve got in there,” she said slowly. “Is that… Preston in there talking to him?” “Yes. He’s a very good interro –” “Have you ever thought that you might have a leak to the media?” Harry asked, cutting across Kingsley. “Actually,” Kingsley sighed, sitting down on his chair, “Lately we’ve been having a few problems with top secret information.” “Maybe you should let someone like Moody talk to Mark,” Hermione suggested. Kingsley laughed softly, “No, he only came out of retirement to help bring Harry in because I thought Harry would cause us a little trouble. Moody knows how to handle you,” he added to Harry. “Mark’s only a reporter. He only just got the marks to pass his NEWTs. I doubt it would take more than one Auror to take him down if he causes any trouble.” “Moody doesn’t take bribes and would never leak any information out to the public,” Harry said firmly. “There’s more than a chance that Preston could be your leak.” Kingsley frowned, “As much as you like solving mysteries Harry, this is not yours to solve. If I think anyone in my department is guilty of leaking secrets to the media then I will look into it. For now, I would like you both to make a statement to me and sign it.” --- It was very late when they were finally finished. Hermione felt as though she could just drop off to sleep, since there was a nice fire crackling peacefully in the fireplace next to Kingsley’s desk. They took a portkey back to Hermione’s apartment and she helped Harry limp back to her bedroom sleepily, taking his clothing off him and letting him collapse back down onto the bed. “It’s been a long day,” she said softly, tugging the bed sheets back up and over his body. “Mmm,” he murmured sleepily, watching her through slitted eyes. “I’ll be out on the couch,” she added, turning to walk out of the room. But Harry caught hold of her wrist and held her steady, frowning up at her, “Stay,” he said firmly. She sighed and sank down to the bed, sitting on the edge of it and yawning widely. “I’ll be fine on the couch Harry,” she said reasonably, covering her mouth as she yawned again. “But I won’t be fine in here on my own,” he replied, pulling her on top of him with that amazing strength. Lying on top of his body meant her face was parallel to his, and she watched his beautiful green eyes search hers for a sign that she’d give in and stay. “Please?” he added, slipping his arms around her back to hold her steadily. She sighed sleepily and leaned down to kiss his cheek softly, “Alright,” she whispered, pulling back. “Let me go get changed and we’ll go to sleep.” Harry nodded and let her go, watching her slide to the ground and walk out of the room. A moment later, she came back with her pyjamas over one arm. She took her robes off, hanging them up in her wardrobe, before beginning to unbutton her blouse, with her back to Harry. “You’re going to do that there?” Harry asked, sitting up slightly in the bed and watching her back with wide eyes. She smiled easily and took her shirt off, letting it drop to the floor before unhooking her bra expertly with one hand and slipping her pyjama top over her head quickly before the bra fell away from her body. “Yes,” she said softly, undoing her skirt and letting it fall to the ground. She bent over slightly and put her pants on, tugging them up, much to Harry’s disappointment. She turned around to see his eyes riveted to her waist. “W-why’d you do that?” he asked, allowing a small grin to grace his face. She smiled warmly and crossed the room to slip into the other side of the bed, tugging the bed sheets over her body and moving closer to Harry. “Harry, I love you,” she said softly, fixing him with a chocolate-brown eyed stare. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to watch me change,” she added with a small and bashful grin. “Considering you’ve been undressing me for the past week,” he said, smirking slightly, wrapping his arms around her body and pulling her closer. “Let’s go to sleep,” he said, leaning to kiss her forehead softly. “Mmm, okay,” she murmured, sliding down into the bed with him, letting her arm slide across his stomach, tracing the ridges of muscle there. “Ginny’s coming tomorrow,” she muttered suddenly, opening one eye, “We mustn’t sleep in Harry.” “We’ll get up on time, I promise,” he murmured back, moving one hand down to her hip to rest it there, touching a small, smooth sliver of skin. A moment later he whispered, “I love you too.” She smiled and looked up at him. “I know.” --- 9. Ginny -------- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: Heh… heh… *grins* after an extremely long wait… chapter 9 is here! I hope you lot haven’t forgotten about me… although, if you have I certainly wouldn’t blame you lol. I’m really, really sorry guys… writing blocks can be a bitch. I’ve planned a little of the story out, and I’m having my girlfriend help me plan it out even more (hun, if I haven’t told you about this, well, you’re helping me now =P).** **I hope you like this chapter… it’s a small one, but it’s my “return”, so to speak – no pun intended ;) many thanks to the patience of my lovely beta reader, StarAngel613. Please remember to review!** **The Return** **Chapter Nine: Ginny** “Hermione!” “Sleeping,” Hermione muttered, snuggling closer into Harry, grinning as she felt him pull her closer. “No you’re not.” Hermione frowned slightly as she felt some sort of soft object hit her in the face, “Harry don’t hit me.” “I’m not Harry.” Hermione’s eyes flew wide open and she turned to look behind her, to find Ginny Longbottom standing over her, her mouth and brow set into a firm straight line. “Ginny!” “Nice to see you two are comfortable,” Ginny said irritably, brandishing a copy of *the Daily Prophet*. “Look at this.” Hermione frowned again and sat up, noticing Harry was still asleep, and picked the newspaper up. “*The Boy-Who-Lived; Returned?* Oh God…” “It would have been nice if you told me before I found out from the papers,” Ginny said, sighing slightly as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “You weren’t the only one who lost him, Hermione.” “I know, but we only saw Molly yesterday, and then when we came back we found a reporter in here –” “– Mark,” Ginny cut across her. “– Yes – who then called in Aurors on Harry with the silly idea that he’s dangerous. We then had to go down to Auror Headquarters to make a statement. People saw Harry out on the balcony, and I suppose that’s how the story got out,” Hermione said, sighing heavily as she gazed down at the newspaper. Ginny glanced at Harry’s half naked form and couldn’t help but smirk slightly, “You two picked up right where you left off?” Hermione grinned uncertainly, feeling as though she was in school again, “No, we’ve not done anything.” “Yet.” “Oh hush.” “Why has he got a giant scar on his chest?” Ginny asked, frowning as she looked at him more closely. “Let me get out of bed and make some tea for you, and coffee for me, and I’ll tell you as much as I can,” Hermione said, carefully moving away from Harry without waking him. “How long has he been back?” Ginny asked as Hermione stood out of the bed and began to lead her towards the kitchen. “Several days,” Hermione said, yawning widely and closing her door behind her as they left the room. Ginny nodded and they entered the kitchen, Hermione going straight to the kettle. She filled it with water and then picked her wand up from the counter, waving it at the kettle. “What happened to him?” Ginny asked softly, frowning slightly and glancing over her shoulder. Hermione sighed as she pulled the tea and coffee out of the overhanging cupboards, “I’ll let him tell you that.” Ginny nodded, “Well, what happened when he came back? How *did* he come back?” she asked confusedly, frowning slightly. Hermione glanced in the direction of her bedroom before beginning to tell Ginny what happened from when Harry appeared in her living room. --- “He’s alright now, though?” Ginny asked her eyes still wide with surprise at Hermione’s story. “Yes, he’s doing much better. He can almost walk on his own,” Hermione said, smiling slightly. She took a sip of her coffee and said, “I just hope that he doesn’t relapse or something.” “Why would you think he’d relapse?” Hermione sighed, “That scar on his chest. I don’t know what kind of effect it’s had on his internal organs, or his mental state.” “Will you be able to find out?” “I don’t really know. I can take him to St Mungo’s to perform certain tests but I doubt those tests would show anything out of the ordinary. We’ve never seen an injury like this before… there isn’t any sort of spell or potion to determine the effects of it, and if there are negative effects we wouldn’t know how to cure them.” Hermione looked sideways back in the direction of her room, “I think he’ll be okay.” “I hope so,” Ginny said softly, sighing slightly. “We can’t have the saviour of the world dying just after he’s come back, can we?” Hermione smiled weakly, “Certainly not.” “Do you think he’d be awake yet?” Ginny asked, gazing off in the direction of Hermione’s bedroom. Hermione shrugged, “We can go wake him up if you want. That reminds me, I have to get angry at him because he told me we wouldn’t sleep in,” she muttered, standing up and heading for her bedroom. “Harry,” she said, as she entered her bedroom to sit next to him on the bed. “Wake up Harry.” He sighed and turned away from Hermione, trying to pull the covers up to hide himself. “Come on Harry,” Hermione said sternly, pulling the sheets down, “Ginny’s here.” “If you’re just saying that to make me wake up, I’m going to be quite irritated with you,” Harry murmured grumpily, opening one eye to look up at Hermione. “Hi Harry,” Ginny said quietly from the doorway. Harry opened his other eye and sat up quickly, staring at her with his eyebrows raised. “Hi Ginny,” he replied, not sure what he was supposed to say or do. The redhead made her way across the room to climb onto the bed and hug Harry very tightly, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. “It’s you,” she whispered, pulling back to wipe away her tears. “Of course it’s me,” Harry said, reaching over to hold one of her hands, “Are you alright?” Ginny gave him a watery smile, “I’m ok. Hearing you talk again just set me off.” “Do you want me to stop talking?” Harry asked tentatively. Ginny’s smile grew and she shook her head, “No. How are you feeling?” “Sleepy,” he said, smiling back at her. “You?” “Overwhelmed,” she replied, squeezing his hand, “Neville will be so glad to know you’re truly back.” “Why don’t we go into the living room and I’ll make myself and Harry some breakfast?” Hermione suggested quietly. “Good idea,” Harry said, beginning to try to get out of bed. --- **To be continued…** 10. Newspapers -------------- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter **A/N: Mmm… yeah. A bit later than I anticipated – this chapter is also LONGER than the last… XD sorry guys. The last chapter didn’t get as many reviews as I’d hoped :( which kinda sucks but meh. I’m hoping that an update with the month (or two months, lol) will help show people I really am back and wanting to write.** **For those of you who are flexible with their couples in HP, I have written a Hermione/Ginny story on my ff.net account which will be up hopefully soon – waiting for my beta to get back to me. I decided to upload this without editing because I’m impatient, as, I’m sure, you guys are. StarAngel613, please get back to me about that other oneshot. Sorry for not sending this one to you.** **On that note, I shall allow you to read :P and please remember to review guys… it’s nice and provides me with insight into my own writing. Also, if you’d like the final scene continued please tell me so.** **Read on, my dear readers! :D** **The Return** **Chapter 10: Newspapers** The morning with Ginny was spent out in the living room, Harry first telling her about the final battle, and then how he came back. Ginny sat there in silence for most of the time, seeming to still be in shock. “I suppose I should be getting back to Neville now,” Ginny said reluctantly once Harry’s story was finished, “I promised him I’d meet him for lunch to tell him whether or not the story was true.” “Will you bring him around?” Harry asked, “Or Hermione and I could come over or something.” Ginny smiled, “Of course. He’d love to see you. I’ll be off then,” she leaned over to kiss his cheek lightly, “I’ll see you soon, Harry.” Harry smiled back and nodded, “Definitely.” Ginny stood up, “Walk me to the door, Hermione?” The two girls walked to the front door, talking quietly. “Let me know if you find anything else out about that scar,” Ginny said softly, glancing over her shoulder at Harry, who was now rubbing his eyes and sitting back in the couch. “I will,” Hermione replied, sighing, “Although I doubt I’ll find anything else out. Oh, don’t tell anyone about how he came back. Not even Neville. Harry should be the one to tell people how it happened.” Ginny nodded, “Alright. See you later then.” “Bye,” Hermione said, hugging and kissing her best friend on the cheek. Ginny smiled once more before disapparating. As Hermione made her way back to the living room, Harry stood up off the couch, looking very thoughtful and beginning to try to go back to Hermione’s bedroom. “Whoa Harry,” Hermione said quickly, noticing his legs shaking after a couple steps. She rushed to his side and slid her arm around his waist to support him, “Don’t start walking without me.” “Sorry,” he said, glaring at his legs, “I want to go back to your room though.” “Why?” “I need to read that story,” he said stubbornly. She sighed, “Alright.” They hobbled into her room as fast as Harry could go. Once there, he sat down gratefully on the edge of the bed while Hermione fetched the newspaper that she’d dropped to the floor upon getting out of bed. She handed it to Harry and sat next to him, reading the article. *‘The Boy-Who-Lived: Returned?’* “You’d think they’d come up with a more original title for the article,” Harry muttered under his breath irritably. Hermione just smiled weakly. *‘But has he returned a friend or foe? Since Harry Potter disappeared 5 years ago there have been many conspiracy theories concerned with what exactly happened to him. Did he really die along with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Did he defeat the Dark Lord and took leave of earth with so-called aliens? Or did he secretly fake his death in order for him to start over in a new country with a new name and appearance? These were just some of the questions we, here at the* Daily Prophet*, would love to ask.* *However when faced with an opportunity to tell the world the truth, Mr Potter seemed to resemble that very evil he had claimed to extinguish. You, my dear readers, have a right to know what happened to our saviour and I simply wanted to find that out. When I approached The-Boy-Who-Lived to ask him for an interview, he retaliated by throwing me from the balcony on the second floor of one Miss Hermione Granger’s apartment, to the street below. Luckily for me someone in the crowd was smart enough to cast a softening charm on the ground so that when I hit it I didn’t suffer any major injuries.* *In the past, Harry Potter has saved the world. I would never dispute this fact, and I praise him for it. He has given us salvation more than once, and I’m sure that each and every one of you would love to thank him yourselves. But this man who has returned, claiming he is Harry Potter does not resemble the hero we remember.* *What I would like the public to ask themselves is this – is this man really Harry Potter?’* “What?!” Harry burst out angrily, staring daggers at the paper. “Shh,” Hermione shushed him soothingly, rubbing his back and trying to calm him down. “No, Hermione,” Harry snapped, jerking away from her slightly, “No, this idiot has the bloody nerve to put this in *print* then he can deal with me.” “Do you really want him to be right?” Hermione asked sharply, glaring at him. Harry turned his head to look back at her, frowning, “I can’t stand for this, Hermione.” “Calm down,” she said very firmly, “You need to think about this calmly because if you don’t, we’ll have another incident on our hands.” “Another…?” Hermione cut across him, “Harry, the bottom line is, you did hover Mark fifty feet above the ground, and let him down that way. Mark is a reporter; he has a way of making the public believe his side. They’ll change their stories and they’ll begin to actually believe that what they saw was a very angry Harry Potter casting Mark out of my apartment like he was some sort of cancer.” Harry sighed and slumped his shoulders, staring down at the ground. “What are we going to do then?” he asked. “I’m not entirely sure yet,” Hermione said thoughtfully, frowning, “We should read the rest of this article if we want to know what the public’s thinking now.” “I don’t want to,” Harry said, glaring at the newspaper, “It’ll just send me into another temper tantrum.” “Fine, I’ll read it then.” Hermione took the paper from Harry and moved back on the bed to lean against the headboard so she could read comfortably. He spun his body around on the bed so he was facing her, sitting with his legs crossed beneath him, watching her expressions changed as she read further and further into the article. He found himself silently thanking her for all she’d ever done for him – being there for him when no one else was, knowing what to do when he didn’t and supporting him when even his so-called best friend wasn’t – Harry paused and remembered Ron had died fighting for his cause. He felt slightly ashamed of himself and sighed heavily. Hermione looked up from the article, hearing the heavy sigh and asked, “What’s wrong?” Harry looked up at her and shrugged, “Nothing.” “Harry,” she said in that tone of voice that used to make him come out with it and tell her what was going on. He sighed again, “I was just thinking about all the times you’ve helped me and been here for me, and how you were here even when Ron wasn’t. But then I remembered he died fighting for what we were fighting for, and I felt horrible for thinking badly of him at all.” Hermione frowned and slid down the bed to hug Harry tightly, the newspaper left forgotten on the pillow, “Ron did some very stupid things before that,” she whispered to him, “He made life very difficult for you at times. Don’t feel bad for what he did… it’s all in the past.” She pulled back from Harry and smiled sadly at him, “He would certainly agree that he was a dickhead over the years, Harry.” Harry smiled weakly back at her and pulled her into another hug, “I miss everyone, Hermione,” he whispered, closing his eyes and breathing her scent in deeply. “I miss how life was before all of this happened.” “Everyone does,” Hermione whispered back, “We just need to support each other and make a new life for ourselves.” Harry nodded, relaxing and moving back so he could see her face. “I really do love you,” he insisted softly. Hermione smiled, moving her head forward to kiss his lips softly, “I love you too.” They looked at each other for a moment, maintaining eye contact like it was some sort of contest. Green eyes bore into brown, searching for some sort of sign that what he was wanting to do would be well received. Hermione was the first to move, kissing him again, biting down on his bottom lip and begging for entrance to his mouth. Harry granted her wish, opening his mouth quickly to touch her tongue, probing deep into Hermione’s mouth. They weren’t in the most comfortable position so they moved up the bed, back towards the pillows and Harry lying down with Hermione on top of him. His hands found their way down to her backside and pulled her even closer to him, wanting to feel as much of her on him as was possible. Hermione couldn’t help but giggle in the back of her throat as she felt his hands clasp around her bottom, and certainly couldn’t help but thrusting her hips into him slightly, giggling again as he made a small, strangled moan. “Mean woman,” he muttered in a strained voice, keeping his eyes closed as she broke the kiss to grin widely down at him. “Thank you,” she replied huskily, turning her attention away from his lips to his neck… --- **To be continued…** **A/N: remember, let me know if you’d like this scene continued.**