Unofficial Portkey Archive

Seventeen, Going Twice-Chapter 11

Harry was so excited to get the day started that he put on his runners and knocked at Ginny's and Hermione's door. Ginny opened. "Harry, I'm going to kill you both. She was up at the crack of dawn giggling. You two should just get your own room together. Now let me sleep in peace." She slammed the door shut in his face.

Harry stood in stunned silence. He wanted to laugh, but he wondered if Ginny and Hermione had bumped heads too. He went down the stairs and saw Hermione stretching lightly.

"Where did you learn to do that?" asked Harry. The one thing that was bad about Hogwarts was the lack of formal physical education. He'd only learned the stretching after Lupin saw how sore Harry was getting from training and running.

"Sweetheart, I've spied on you from Ginny's room every day for a month. That's when I finally decided that I might as well join you if I were going to get up and watch you," she explained.

"Okay, well, just be careful not to bounce in your stretches. I hurt myself at first doing that," he said. "Stretch slowly until you feel the strain back off and do it again. You'll go further each time.

"Okay. You mean like this." Hermione had to show off. She did the splits right in front of Harry. She got up and did it again making his jaw drop in wonder.

"You were having me on then about feeling the muscle aches in your legs, weren't you?" he asked.

"Not really. Running really hurt, because I'm so used to being stretched they balled up on me and it hurt," she said casually. "It won't be long though and I'll get used to it. Do we run or walk today?"

"Let's run. I'll go at my normal pace through the first leg and come back to meet you, then I'll slow down with you. Is that okay?" he asked. He was afraid it would lead to her running to fast at the beginning again, but it had been three days now since he'd pushed himself.

He took off with Hermione along side for the first couple hundred meters. "Harry, I thought you were going at your normal pace?"

Harry had changed his mind slightly at the last second. "I'll get you on a good pace and then I'll go. That way I know you won't be overdoing it, okay?"

"That's a good compromise," she said breathlessly.

"Okay, here I go," he said. He picked up the pace and ran through the end of the normal turn around trying to gauge the time it would take for her to get close to it. He turned around and ran back toward her. He reached her just short of where she'd be turning around and joined her, slowing to her pace.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better than the other day, I'll say that. That guy isn't on my shit list anymore but he's still off the Christmas card list," she said breathlessly.

Harry almost had to stop to laugh. Her reference to the guy who thought running was fun was quite funny. "Yeah, well, anything that shuts you up for a while is okay in my book," he teased.

"Harry, I'll kick your butt if I live through this today," she joked back.

He knew he had her on the right pace. She could talk a little and they were probably thirty or forty seconds ahead of the previous time. It was probably because she didn't need to slow down so much here toward the end like she did before. It would be hard to improve on this time for several more sessions he thought. But she would be up with him in no time.

"You know you're in pretty good shape. I mean, FOR A GIRL, that is," he teased.

"Oh, would you rather run with one of the guys?" she said curtly.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he said as she slowed in front of the house.

"Yeah, well one of these days I'll be in shape while you're just goofing off and I'll run you off the road making you eat my dust, Harry Potter," she panted.

He knew he had to be careful to not let that happen. The fact that she hid her flexibility made him wonder if her stamina wouldn't out do his in leaps and bounds soon. "Okay, Hermione, the road runner."

"You are just cruising for a bruising today," she said playfully. "What's your story?"

"Ginny, yelled at me at the door to your room this morning. She was downright pissed that you were up so early `giggling'. What would you be giggling about that would make her slam the door in my face?" he queried.

"None of your business, Harry. It must not have bothered her too much. She didn't say anything to me," replied Hermione. "And, what got into you that you'd think you wouldn't disturb her anyway?"

"Oops," said Harry. He realized that he might have been the reason. "What do you mean none of my business when it contributed to near-miss broken nose?" he laughed.

"Hey, a girl has to be able to have her secrets and it's not my fault you woke her up?" she retorted.

"Suit yourself," he said. "Anyway, good job, today. You were twenty-eight seconds faster overall."

"Thanks," she said as he wiped the perspiration off her hands on his tee shirt. "There you can have that for your trouble. I'm going to change."

"Ooh, I'll never wash this shirt again, now." He shot back.

"It already smells like that's what you've been doing," she giggled and disappeared.

Harry laughed. This is starting out to be a weird day. They came down for breakfast as soon as they got dressed. Hermione had on one of those old-fashioned fanny packs. She sat down next to Harry. "Well, are you ready?"

"So early, I thought we'd have breakfast and we'd go after lunch," he said without a clue.

He noticed the expression on her face change too late. Her eyes lifted and she scooted back as Harry felt the whip cream pie smoosh into his face. "Happy Birthday, Harry!" Everyone was around the table. It was Ginny with the cream pie. "That's for waking me up," she said. "I didn't know about it until now, but I begged to be the one…yeah, it was me." She laughed and so did Harry as he pulled his glasses off, leaving two holes in the cream just above the hole growing around his mouth.

"Are you going to prank me to death today, Hermione?" he asked.

"Hey, that wasn't my idea. I knew, but that wasn't me," she claimed.

He went over to the hose and washed his face. It didn't matter about his tee shirt because it was white with simple logos anyway. The more he thought about it, the funnier it got. "Man, I need to watch out for booby traps today, huh?"

"I guess so," said Hermione. "No, I'd like to go now. We can get lunch and maybe see a matinee movie. I haven't been to a movie in ages."

"You know I'm not sure I've ever been to one," said Harry. "I think the Dursleys left me with Mrs. Figg or …locked in the cupboard," he hadn't thought of that in a long time. "Sure, sounds like fun. Let's go."

Once they arrived in London, they walked slower and spent more time looking in the shops than they had the previous time. Harry was really glad they'd gone early. He was happy to watch Hermione stop in a hat shop and try on hats. Some were silly, some were sexy. Other hats just seemed to do nothing. He remembered one that looked like a black fedora that suited her bushy eyebrows and dark eyes perfectly. They joked that she should dress all in black like a gangster from one of those old movies and buy the hat for tonight. But she really wanted Harry to see her in her dress.

The whirlwind excitement of the other day wasn't there, but neither of them was bored. Each place they stopped generated a new conversation. Harry liked it because he was getting idea after idea what to get her for her birthday. She had a sense of style that Hogwarts robes, shorts, jeans and tee shirts didn't reveal. He noticed her hands for the first time. Her nails were neatly manicured and her fingers were long and slender. He'd touched them a million times by now and never noticed.

Hermione looked at Harry and was surprised at how attentive he was to her likes and dislikes. She had expected him to be polite, but to let his mind wonder to his own things. But he looked in her eyes, asked questions, and seemed to enjoy the experience. She couldn't have been happier with a guy, she thought. The biggest shock was that his eyes didn't roam to the other teenage girls that waited on them. She thought she'd understand if they did, but the more attentive he was the more precious he became. She didn't think jealousy was a good word for how she'd have felt if he'd have strayed. She preferred to think disappointed and possessive. She held back a giggle at her own insecurity.

They stopped in a little sandwich shop by the Thames at one-thirty. It was the first time they'd sat for almost three hours. "Are you having fun, Harry?"

"I really am, Hermione," he said. "You know, I'm getting sick of all the stares you get from guys though. Don't they know it's rude to stare at someone's girl so obviously?" he asked.

"Don't tell me you're jealous, Harry?" she asked with surprise. "Because if you think I've noticed, you would be surprised to hear I haven't."

"I don't know what it is," he sat looking out toward the river. "On one hand it's kind of cool, because I could yell. `That's right, you git, she's with me!' On the other, it makes me nervous about what it must be like for girls when they're alone or with just one other girlfriend. We, meaning guys, could be pretty scary sometimes." He said.

Hermione wasn't sure whether to ask the obvious question that she wondered about if a girl caught Harry's eye, but she decided it was a good time to ask. "Are you afraid that I might find one of them cool or attractive, though?"

Harry looked at her with a blank expression. "If I hadn't known you all these years and knew that you are picky about the guys you like, I'd be scared to death. But that doesn't mean I'd take if for granted that you'd blow them off. That's why I don't pay attention to anyone but you when I'm with you. I don't want you to think there is anyone else in the world but you right now. I feel that it would be wrong for me to look at anyone else if I expected you not to do the same."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure that guys Professor Lupin's age thought that way, much less boys her own age. Was it just because they had such a connection? Was it just fate that brought them together? "You know, Harry, I have been impressed that you haven't ogled one of the girls in the malls or at the dress shops. I am grateful for that and it is the best compliment a man can give a woman to make her the focus of his attention in situations like that. I just wanted you to know I noticed."

"It's a weird feeling Hermione. I hope it never passes, but I don't think about any other girl when I'm with you. We may discuss them or talk to them, but that's it. It may change when we get sick of each other, but…" he said.

"You mean like about ten minutes after we have sex the first time," she said cautiously. "That's part of what I'm afraid of Harry. Once we've gone that far, what's left? That's why I'm afraid of a hotel room on your birthday."

"That never occurred to me before, but I'll bet it happens all the time. The mystery disappears and shortly afterward so does the love they declared for each other," he said.
"I am a mystery to a lot of people. How did he survive? How does he get the most beautiful and smartest girl at Hogwarts? How does he manage to get away with stuff other people get in trouble for? I'm afraid you'll see through it as the luck that it is and realize I'm just a guy hanging on for dear life in a world out of control."

"Do you really feel that way?" she asked. "Do you think I love you because of the mystique of Harry Potter? When I was eleven and you were with Ron when we met. Then, I had a crush on you because you were Harry Potter. It went away when I realized you were just another guy like Ron. I have never seen you that way since and it is the main reason to run the opposite direction now." They laughed.

"I could see that," said Harry.

They each ordered a tuna salad sandwich, chips and a soda. They talked of things they hadn't mentioned in years. Neither of them could imagine running out of things to say or things to do. They ate quietly and watched people walk by the little café on the sidewalk ten meters or so away.

Finally they decided to go to the cinema they'd seen earlier and see a movie. Since neither of them knew anything about the movies that were playing they looked for a newspaper and looked them up. They found a nice romantic comedy about this guy who liked this girl who couldn't remember him the next day. They got popcorn and sat as far back as they could on Hermione's advice.

They sat all the way in the back even though there were only three other people in the entire theater. "Hermione, why are we sitting back here?"

The movie hadn't started yet and she looked around to make sure no one could see. "My Mom used to say the movie theaters were the best places for snogging in the whole world." She folded up the arm between them and cuddled with him. "So, I'm not saying that I want to make a public display, but if you feel like kissing me….we're sitting in the right seats for it." She smiled.

Harry held her and before long listening to the music and watching the advertisements run across the screen, he knew what she meant. They kissed until finally the movie started. They watched. The actors were funny and the story pretty good considering they'd just picked any old movie out of the paper. It was getting toward five which left three hours until dinner. They had one more stop to make. Harry took Hermione to the strip mall he remembered for the flowers. This time he bought her roses. First, one long stem red rose and then, he decided she should have a vase full to take back. She told him there was no way she could take them but that she appreciated it.

"Harry, how do I carry them? They'd get ruined when we Apparate anyway," she whispered. "But the thought was lovely." Harry told her he'd be out in a second. He had a match book from the hotel. He wrote down the address.

"I want you to have two dozen roses delivered to this address in the name of Miss Hermione Granger," said Harry. He wrote out a card as fast as he could.

"So, Hermione, what time are the reservations?" he asked.

"Oh, they're set for 8:30 PM. I thought we'd arrive around 8:00 in the lounge," she said as if she weren't sure. "We have to get going though. I need to get ready and so do you."

They returned to the house as quickly as possible. Hermione told Harry she had to have the shower first and then he could go. Neither of them took into account the other 18 people in the house. So things went slower than planned.

Harry got the whistles from the guys as he came down into the parlor around seven o'clock. Colin Creevey still carried that ratty old camera around and snapped a picture before Harry could see what was happening.

"Man alive, Harry," said Neville. "That's one expensive suit."

"How would you know that?" asked Seamus.

Harry had forgotten to take the tag off the sleeve. It was still marked as â'¤729. "Merlins beard, Harry, where did you get that kind of money?" asked Dean.

Harry had no idea of the relative worth of money so Dean's shock was surprising to him since it was only a small amount compared to what he had. "Is that a lot, Dean?"

Dean laughed, "Harry, I hope you stole that jacket and didn't pay for it, because if you have that kind of money I'm moving in with you when we graduate, mate."

They all laughed. Harry should have been more careful. Since the pants had been tailored, the tags were off them already. He went up to the mirror to make sure that he didn't have anything else that would embarrass himself or Hermione.

He stepped out of the door and there in front of him stood Hermione looking as beautiful as ever. His heart pounded as she walked toward him.

"Harry, do I need to get you a doctor?" she giggled.

"You might," he said holding his arm out. She took it and they walked downstairs together.

Harry was glad that there was only Dean, Neville and Colin to contend with. Then the surprises began, "Hermione, the limousine is here," called Luna from the side of the house.

Harry stopped in his tracks. What was going on here? Everyone in the house was involved.

"Hermione, what's all this about?" he said. "I thought…." He looked in her face. He realized she had gone to a lot more trouble than he'd ever imagined.

"Harry I wanted to give everyone something to talk about on your birthday," Hermione said smiling. "We all agree that we have been guilty of wondering who Harry Potter was and making up our own version. Tonight, they know you're the guy I love and they can't get that story wrong. Happy Birthday, love." She handed him a gift wrapped package.

He opened it and found a watch box. He opened it to find a beautiful gold watch with sparkling stones at twelve and six on the face. He read the small card. "Time is precious, Harry. I want to spend it with you. Love and Friendship Always, Hermione." He kissed her, carefully avoiding messing up her make up or anything else.

"The limousine will never make it by 8:30, Hermione," he said questioningly.

"I just wanted you ready early, Harry. Reservations are for 10:00 PM. I hated lying, but you asked and hadn't thought about how to answere before then so I just had to make sure you were ready." She started walking toward the front door so she wouldn't have to walk through the dirt around the house.

"Harry and Hermione, may I take your picture?" asked Colin. "I usually just snap away. This time I want to capture the moment for you."

They smiled at each other and nodded.

Once in the limousine, the porch was filled with people waving and wishing them a good time. "You are incredible, Hermione. This watch is fantastic. And you look stunning."

"Thanks, you don't look bad yourself."

He looked around the limousine. There was a little television screen, a bar, the seats reclined into beds. He didn't want to think that feature was for, but he was pretty sure.
"This is brilliant, Hermione. Is it what you thought it would be like?"

"Well, I knew they were huge. I'm surprised that it's nothing but a huge party-mobile," she said.

Harry found the switch that opened the moon roof. He stood up and let the wind rush through his hair as they sped toward London. "This is awesome," he exclaimed and then he looked down realizing the night air was playing havoc on Hermione. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart, I got carried away."

She smiled. "That's okay, Harry. It's your night. Just let me get to the restaurant and show you what I want you to know for my parents visit before you go too crazy."

He nodded and remembered the dual purpose of the evening. "I didn't know that this suit was that expensive. Dean seemed to think it was a lot."

"Harry, most people buy a suit that's about one-fifth that price. My Dad is conservative compared to the people whose dental work he does. Some of those people own suits that are imported from Italy that cost twice what yours does," she smiled. "I learned a long time ago when I met you and the Weasleys, that money isn't the measure of people. I didn't necessarily know that until then though. And, it has proven itself out time and again since."

As the limo rolled over the bridge into the city, Harry started to recognize things. Nothing could have prepared him for the arrival at the hotel, "Mr. Potter, Sir. Your table is waiting. Miss Granger, how nice to meet you."

Harry waited as Hermione took his arm. "This is creepy. How do they know us?"

"That's the first thing to get used to Harry. The limousine driver calls head and announces your arrival. They have the details of the party. It becomes much more difficult when there are more than two people who are unknown in the party," she said.

"Miss Granger, there is a delivery for you at the front desk. I took the liberty of putting some of the flowers on your table," said the Maitre d'.

Hermione looked at Harry and smiled, "Harry, you shouldn't have."

Harry tried to remember some of the things he'd seen in old movies where men took ladies to dinner. He stood back and let the door be held for them by the doorman as they entered the restaurant and guided Hermione with his hand softly at her waist through the door and then stepped up offering his arm once again. This wasn't so hard, he thought. He held Hermione's chair and waited for her to be seated and then helped to move it closer to the table.

"Harry, you're doing very well. Not that I expected you to be scratching your arse and belching on the way in," she whispered and couldn't keep herself from laughing aloud.

Harry laughed too. They restrained themselves fairly well. "It's easy as elegant as you look this evening, Sweetheart."

"Harry, I'm glad I found you first, because if I were a girl and saw you treat your date this way, I'd try to catch your eye and steal you from her. You would be a heartbreaker."

"Oh, we'll see if you feel that way when I stomp on your feet when we dance. You'll be calling me a menace then," he laughed.

"The flowers are simply beautiful, Harry." She took one and put it in her hair. "Harry, if I were ten years older I wouldn't do this." She said as she finished making sure the flower stayed put. "But they know we're young people in love, so I'm going to take some liberties with etiquette and make it a little more our speed, but I'll let you know when to pay attention for the night we come with my parents."

She found the card under the vase and read it, "Hermione, If I could only think of words to express my love, I'd write them over and over a million times and give them too you. I guess, I love you will have to do." Love Harry.

"Thank you, Harry. That's lovely." She smiled and put the card back. "You don't need coaching, but if you have questions or I think of something I'll tell you okay. There is one thing that you need to know though. The menu will be rather short. If I remember correctly, they only put their daily offerings on it and the rest is recited by the server from the specials of the day," she said nodding toward the gentleman with the wine list and menus.

"Sir, here is the wine list and the menu with the appetizers. Your server will be along shortly to tell you of our specials," he said as if Hermione were the master puppeteer.

Hermione explained why many fine restaurants chose to do things this way. She explained that often very fine fish or cuts of meat were available to the buyers that allowed them to serve incredibly delicious meals that would be overshadowed by a standing menu. This way if Alaskan King Crab were available they could offer it. If a rare fish such as the Japanese puffer fish were available a restaurant could offer that. She even explained how people had to sign a waiver since they could die from eating it. Harry found the entire thing intriguing.

"So do you think they'll have Roast Chicken?" he said shyly holding back his laughter.

The server arrived a few minutes later and detailed the menu to them. Harry went exotic ordering the red snapper with the Mexican hot sauce. He had no idea what it would be like but he felt the urge to make the night different. Hermione ordered the smoked salmon. "You know, Hermione. I don't think I've had fish other than fish and chips in my life. I hope it's good."

"It will be good, Harry. But make sure you have plenty of water available. I think yours maybe really spicy," she warned.

They ordered a bottle of wine. She explained the wine list and what she knew about selecting wines based on foods. She explained that certain wines had acids that masked the taste buds from certain spices and foods. That was the reason for the general rules for white wine with fish and reds with beef. She admitted she didn't know much more. Their wine choice was left to the server based on what they ordered. In typical style, the server suggested two or three wines from the list and complemented Harry on a fine choice.

"I felt like I was in play school. `Here Harry, which one is the white square?' Of course, there was only one square that wasn't white and there was nothing but squares on the paper. `Oh, very good choice, Harry.'" He laughed. "Eddy-kit-fer-Dummies-one oh one," he said imitating an illiterate hillbilly type.

Hermione nearly lost control as she was sipping her water. "Harry, don't do that while I'm drinking. I'll be shooting water across the room. You're doing beautifully."

Dinner came much more quickly than Harry had anticipated. He and Hermione were discussing the music in the restaurant and how soothing it was. "Sir, the Huachananga. I'm sorry, that's the Spanish name for the recipe, Sir…your red snapper, if you please."

"Miss Granger, your salmon. Is there anything that I can bring to you, Mr. Potter?" asked the server.

"No, this is very nice. Thank you very much," replied Harry. He waited until they were out of earshot. "Watcha-what? What did he call it?" he laughed. "I'm so out of my league."

Hermione smiled and loved Harry when he was like this. He could keep a straight face one minute and make her want to howl with laughter the next. "Harry, behave yourself," she teased.

Harry loved the meal. Hermione was right, it was as hot as it sounded, but the combination of fish and hot sauce was excellent. "How was yours, Sweetheart?"

"It was lovely, Harry." She paused for a second. "Harry, I can smell the roses even over the food in the restaurant. I can't tell you how wonderful they are."

"Hermione, if flowers make you happy, then flowers it is. If running with me in the morning makes, you happy then I'll do all I can to make that work. Just always remember I want to make you happy." He said sweetly.

"Me too, Harry. I hope you've enjoyed dinner. I may have made a bigger deal out of it than necessary because you did wonderfully. You used the right silverware, held the chair, and most of all. You listened to the people around us. That's important. My Dad said that's how he learned," she explained. "My Mom and Dad will love you--maybe not as much as me, but they'll like you."

This was the part of the night that had intrigued Harry most. Why would Hermione want to go dancing so badly? "Are you ready to dance?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "You have no idea, Harry. You have no, idea."

"Hermione, how do we pay? Most people are using credit cards," said Harry.

"Harry, I put a lot of cash on account with the hotel and restaurant. They are charging to the room." She blushed. "Harry, I never meant to let you know there was a room. If it happened between us, I wanted there to be a wonderful place for us to go. Let's not think of it though. Let's just be happy and unless we can't take it anymore, we'll go home in the limo as planned."

Harry saw the love in her eyes. She was pleading for him to be the way he had been all night to that point and not change. He loved her and he'd do his best.

They arrived outside the club and Hermione took Harry's hand and walked straight in past the bouncers. At their table, Harry could barely hear himself think as the rhythmic disco, new age, techno-pop, whatever raged in the background. Harry was amazed there were probably a hundred people on the dance floor moving around in different directions. You could usually tell who was with who because they seemed to gyrate the same way. The dance floor was below them probably on the second floor. The building had been designed to look like a funnel it seemed to Harry. Each successive row had more tables and there were three stair steps up from the last. In the center was the disco ball, reflecting light into the crowd.

"Come with me, Sweetheart," The bottle of wine had been delivered from the restaurant to the club. They each took a sip before they went. Harry took her by the hand and led her down the steep steps to the dance floor.

Harry watched Hermione as she moved to the music. In typical male fashion he moved his hips at first without his feet. By the time the next song played Hermione had her shoes sitting on the steps not too far away and her hair down. Harry understood why she didn't want him to know about the room now. He danced with her close and her bum against his loins as they moved to the music. He also knew why you needed to be twenty-one.

Song after song, they dance and touched, or kissed and danced. Harry couldn't tell whether the excitement he felt was from kissing, touching or dancing. He just went with it. She was sexy and beautiful he thought. He had no idea what this was about until now. He understood her excitement. She could be wild and touch him. He could be wild and touch her. It was the most fun, erotic and physically taxing thing he'd ever done in his life.

Finally, eight breaks or songs later, Hermione led him back to the table. "So, I guess you've done your duty. You never have to take me dancing again." She said it with a fake sense of sadness. "Ho hum, dancing, yeck. Who would want to do that with a girl?"

Harry smiled, "I'm just glad we're dressed up and there is no skin to skin contact or I'd have died of a heart attack or sensory overload."

He leaned in and kissed her, "We'll take the limousine, Hermione."

"You know, I want to be with you as bad as you want me, but we just have so much we have to do. It would add so much pressure to our lives," she kissed him, pulled his tie off completely and opened his shirt. "There you can look like a disco king."

The walls near the top were mirrors. He was interested to see what h looked like. Besides the lipstick on his cheeks, he looked pretty cool he thought. Something surprised him when he looked down toward Hermione. She was stripping off the outer layer of her skirt. She had been wearing a layered skirt. The underneath layer was silk and clung to her so closely that Harry felt the excitement growing to get on the dance floor again.

They danced again. Harry knew that he was learning a very valuable lesson in self-control. She was driving him crazy. Men went to clubs and paid girls to get this close to them. He was living a dream. He felt her soft bottom against him again. He had to put a stop to that one thing, he thought. "Sweatheart," he said as loud as he could until he knew she could hear, "don't rub me with your bum. You'll kill me if you do." He smiled. He was serious. She didn't care. He sighed and let the torture continue.

The disc jockey took another break at one-thirty. Harry and Hermione sat yawning in their seats. Harry smiled. "If we were going the room, we'd have had to go two hours ago."

Hermione looked at him and said, "Why?"

"Well, first, I have no energy left. And, second, we are yawning we're so tired," he said. "I'm sure that would change if we wanted it to, but let's go while we are relaxed like this." He said.

"Okay," she said. "Let me get my stuff." She'd put her things in a little area behind the seat designed for purses and the like. "Are you sure, Harry? Are you sure we shouldn't rock each other's world," she joked.

"Yeah, we'd fall asleep,' he said.

She smiled, "Yeah, right, but the problem would be when we woke up in each other's arms in the morning."

"Oh, man, that would be bad. I'd never be able to hold back in a million years," he smiled.

Hermione had security call for the limousine as she gathered her flowers. She walked to the front desk and settled with the cashier. Harry waited near the door thinking about so many things that his mind was cluttered. He was so happy for so many reasons; he couldn't pick one as the main one. The obvious one was Hermione. But there were a million things that made up Hermione. She was his friend, lover, confidant, and strangely enough, running partner. They had not made love, but she was his lover, at least in his heart.

Once inside the limo, Harry had the bed pull out for the ride home. They cuddled. They're hands roamed and their lips met. He kissed her intimately, but they never stretched the boundaries they'd set. He wanted her so badly and he was sure she wanted him. But she was right about their being so many things left to do.

He felt her kiss his chest for the first time and realized that there was so much more to being with this girl than he could ever have imagined. She drove him mad in a good way. Her head rested on his chest. She fell asleep. Harry hit the switch and looked up at the stars as the breeze filled the car. It was four o'clock when they arrived at the Burrow and strangely, the lights were on.

There was a rush to the limousine, "Oh, my God, you children are okay," cried Mrs. Weasley. On the corner of the porch there were three men. Harry was confused.

"Hermione, there's something going on. Wake up," Harry pleaded.

Hermione raised her head groggily. "What, Harry?"

"Hermione, there are ministry Aurors here at the Burrow at four in the morning and everyone's up," he said.

She perked up a little, but was still a little confused. "What does that mean?"

"Harry, you haven't been to Privet Drive, have you?" said the first man to come to him as he walked inside with his arm around Hermione.

"No, not since we left school," he said. "What's this about?"

"Harry, the house on Privet Drive was burned to the ground in an explosion tonight," said Mr. Weasley. "There were no bodies found, but there were things with your name on them floating in the rubble."

"Did anyone there know where you were going?" asked another Auror who Harry recognized but couldn't name.

"The Dursleys' my mom's family thought I was going to Hermione's or here," he said.

"Miss Granger, what is your address?" The look on Hermione's face was one of terror. "Not my family. No way." She gave them the address and immediately two Aurors DisApparated.

"Harry, tell me that they didn't come for you at midnight after your birthday," said Hermione as she hugged him. "I'm so scared for you, Harry."

"Guys," said Harry. "Be ready for anything until the sun comes up. This is what we were learning all that stuff for."

"Sweetheart, your parents will be fine. They will taken care of," he said consoling her.

Hermione hugged him. "I hope so, Harry. At least, we're safe for now."

___________ xxxxx ____________

Miles away, Uncle Vernon sat bloodied on the floor of a decrepit old house with Dudley and Petunia.

"Ask them where Potter is again. Malfoy, go with them in case they mention a name you recognize. Your worthless life depends on it." said the malevolent voice upstairs.

The door opened and Draco Malfoy entered with two other men. "Where did Potter go?" asked Malfoy.

"I swear, the little bastard didn't say. There was this brown-haired girl with him though. She said he could come stay with her. Her name was … I can't remember," said Vernon Dursley.

"Hermione," said Dudley. "Hermione, it was. I'm sure of it." He whined like a little child.

"She said something about the Weasleys too. Mail would come from someplace called the Burrow," said Dudley.

Malfoy looked triumphant. "Blood-traitors and mud-bloods, it figures he'd hide with them. I can show you where the one is, but I don't know where the mud-blood lives."

"Found it said a voice from above. Hermione Granger, am I right?" said the voice.

"Yes, yes. That's it," said Malfoy.

"I have an address in Oxford, just outside London," said the voice.

"The Dark Lord wants him tonight. Destroy anything that gets in your way. He should never have escaped," said the voice. "Kill these useless muggles and burn their bodies."

_____________ xxx _________________________

Harry felt Hermione's breast through her tee shirt against his chest. Two hours before it would have ended their battle of restraint. Now it was simply an innocent byproduct of sleeping together to ward off the fear. He hoped that the Dursleys were okay. He never wished them harm, but he didn't hold out hope. He hoped that they hadn't remembered Hermione's name either. He hoped. He kissed Hermione's forehead as she slept.

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