The Eight-hundred Pound Gorilla

HandofFate

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 26/07/2006
Last Updated: 28/11/2006
Status: in_progress

Harry rubs his cheek where Hermione kissed him as he left with the Dursleys? What was that and why did he like it? He schemes to not let her go without returning it. From there...enter...The Eight Hundred Pound Gorilla. What does he do now? He's been invited to visit on his birthday and Hermione will be there.

Chapters

1. The Kiss

2. The Letter

3. The Unwitting Confession

4. The Unexpected Reply

5. The First Day

6. The Birthday Celebration

7. The Reverse

8. The Dilemma

9. The Runaway Sweethearts

1. The Kiss

A/N: Very short introduction to the story. Please review. What do you think?

Disclaimer: All characters courtesy of the wonderful J. K. Rowling.

The Kiss—Chapter 1

“What the hell did she do that for?” thought Harry.

His heart pounded.

He turned and looked at her. Her sweet breath and filled his nostrils for just a brief second.

His skin tingled.

He stared now. Had he felt her body brush against him?

His heart pounded harder.

“Why didn't I kiss her back?” he thought.

His breath quickened.

“Nah, she didn't just make me jealous smiling at Ron,” he thought as Hermione smiled at Ron.

His face flushed.

“Harry, we don't have all bloody day,” demanded Vernon Dursley.

“I'll be right back,” said Harry. He ran after Ron and Hermione.

“Hermione! Ron! Wait up,” he yelled before they'd gone out of sight.

His heart pounded. Butterflies the size of bats seemed to be growing in his stomach.

“Harry, your Uncle is going to be furious,” said Hermione.

Harry grinned. He'd just heard the most beautiful voice in the world.

“Oh, stop it you git,” he said to himself.

“What?” said Ron.

“Oh God,” thought Harry. “I can't kiss her in front of Ron.”

His heart pounded. He felt his hands desperately wanting to reach out to her and take hers.

“Oh nothing. I was thinking of Dudley whining about waiting for me and called him a git under my breath,” he lied.

Ron and Hermione laughed.

He searched for some reason to have done the unexpected and run back to them.

“I don't know. I guess I just cracked at the thought of being alone this summer and I missed you guys already,” he said looking into Hermione's eyes.

“We always spend the first hour talking about how we miss you too, Harry,” said Hermione.

“HARRY POTTER! GET OVER HERE, NOW!” screamed Vernon Dursley.

Harry hardly noticed his bellowing Uncle as he imagined going home with Hermione transformed into Crookshanks being petted and fed and mournfully watching her change into her bedclothes unable to tell her it was him.

“HARRY!” screamed Uncle Vernon a second time bringing Harry back to reality.

Mr. Weasley heard his Uncle wailing at him. He walked toward him slowly.

“Harry, you'd better hurry. If he makes a scene like that with Dad, he'll be wearing a wizard robe and a red nose like a clown before long,” joked Ron.

“Hermione, do you think that you and Ron could arrange to get me out for a birthday party at the Burrow at the end of July?” asked Harry with no earthly idea where the idea came from.

Harry's heart pounded in his ears now. He knew he was in a load of trouble with Uncle Vernon.

“Dear. Oh, Arthur dear,” said Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley stopped for a second while Mrs. Weasley approached. “Would you ask kind Mr. Dursley if he would entertain the idea of letting us have Harry for the weekend of his birthday this year?” suggested Molly Weasley who'd just overheard Harry talking to Ron and Hermione.

Hermione smiled at Harry broadly and then at Ron who was beaming as well.

“Dear kind fellow, I understand your frustration. Children can be a blessing and a curse. I have seven of them myself you see. Would you kindly let us entertain your nephew for his birthday this year? We would be doing it to take the burden from you as well as to allow his friends to enjoy it with him,” said Arthur so diplomatically that no one who heard him could ever say “No”.

Harry wanted to jump up and down as if he were five in a candy store. “Oh please. Oh please.”

“Er…um…ah…Petunia, what do you think?” said Uncle Vernon.

“I don't see any harm,” she said hardly able to contain the joy of getting rid of Harry for a weekend. “We could take Diddydums on a real holiday for once.” Her face turned pink.

Dudley turned so red, he was almost crossed to purple.

“That would be alright I suppose. But would you mind if we brought him here to meet you?” asked Vernon Dursley remembering the last time Arthur had come to their house.

“Harry, will you be ready to come on time for the Dursleys? Don't make them wait like you have today,” said Mr. Weasley with a wink.

“Oh sure, no problem. I will be ready in plenty of time,” said Harry thinking `Take me now so Ron doesn't get any ideas.'

His heart pounded and his cheek begged for another kiss.

He shook Mr. Weasley's hand.

He hugged Mrs. Weasley.

He gave Ron the man hug.

And, without warning he gave Hermione a peck on the cheek which she returned again.

He looked around quickly. “Okay, then. A birthday party. See you guys in a month.”

His heart had stopped for an instant when he kissed Hermione's cheek. He wanted to go to heaven. His lips felt as if they'd touched velvet for the first time.

Ron looked surprisingly uninterested that Harry had just kissed Hermione. He expected at least a red glow on his face after his jealous search for her with Viktor Krum just hours before.

“Good bye, Harry,” smiled Hermione.

“Later, mate. See ya in a month,” said Ron with a thumbs up and a smile.

“Where's our hug?” chimed the twins with a wink. “Just kidding mate.”

Everyone laughed except Percy who seemed put out again.

Next to Hermione a glassy-eyed Ginny waved and said, “Good bye.”

Harry turned toward the Dursleys realizing that it was only minutes before the harangue began. But he resolved to imagine Hermione and himself talking over pumpkin juice at the Weasley's later this summer. Just as he'd thought the endless squawking began as they got in the car. And it only ended with him shutting his bedroom door.

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2. The Letter

The Letter—Chapter 2

Harry fell asleep thinking of Hermione, but it wasn't enough to stop the nightmares. He awoke in a cold sweat. The only calming thought was the kindness of one of his best friends.

He lay awake looking at the ceiling. Several times he found himself rolling over quickly with pangs of guilt.

“She didn't think anything of it I'm sure,” he thought. “She was being polite and didn't embarrass me by leaving me hanging.”

Soon his doubts faded again into a different pattern. “She's using me to make Ron jealous,” he thought. “He's too thick to see it though. Well I won't be fooled.”

Harry tried every angle he could to make that short meaningless interlude with Hermione mean something. He couldn't take the anxiety of Cedric's dead eyes staring at him. He needed someone. He needed something.

“Should I write to Sirius and tell him about her?” he said to himself. He hurried to his feet and grabbed his quill and parchment.

Dear Sirius,

I met a girl today. Well, not really met her today. I kind of stumbled upon a girl I already knew today. Oh, bloody hell, what do I do Sirius? Hermione kissed me on the cheek. Then I lost my mind and made up stories to get close to her so I could kiss her. It was a peck on the cheek.

I must be going stark, raving mad.

I got invited to the Weasley's for my birthday. Well, I sort of mentioned it to Hermione and Mrs. Weasley invited me. The Dursleys say I can go.

What do I do, Sirius? Girls, on top of everything else, it's Hermione. What do I do?

Harry

Harry opened Hedwig's cage and tied his note to her leg. Hedwig nipped at his finger lovingly and flew away.

He tried to go back to sleep. He had lain in his bed only ten minutes when he realized how stupid he was. He'd just endangered Sirius by sending a letter about a stupid rush of hormones from kissing a girl who was nothing more than a friend.

In the back of his mind he was glad that there was something going on in his life to take his mind off of Cedric and the nightmares. Even that thought began to make him wonder if he had a sane bone left in his body.

Mercifully, biology took over in another way and his mind gave in to sleep. Luckily for Harry there were so many good moments that he'd spent with Ron and Hermione that his dreams were filled with them. Each dream ended with a soft peck on the cheek between them in a private moment. He woke with a smile the next morning forgetting all of the negativity he'd generated the night before.

Four days had passed since he'd sent the owl to Sirius. Each night Harry fretted over his decision to tell Sirius. He'd finally concluded that Sirius probably thought Harry was a sissy for being so worried about kissing a girl. He realized that Sirius might not want to say anything to him for fear of hurting Harry's feelings. Nothing came to Harry that day either.

The fifth day had put Harry in such a state that he needed to do something to get rid of the anxiety. Aunt Petunia had taken Dudley to his boxing lessons and they were going to meet his Uncle Vernon for an early dinner when they were done. Harry decided that he was going to take over the living room and live a little. He knew all about how to use the cable television and the stereo. He wished that he could use magic to open the cable television bill to see when the next would come so he could sneak in a pay-per-view movie like he heard advertised when he sat quietly with the Dursleys.

His plans changed drastically when he saw Hedwig emerge from the fireplace carrying two notes. One was the color of normal parchment. The other made Harry's heart stop. It was fire engine red. His worst fear had been realized. It was a howler.

He moved away from the windows quickly to avoid the neighbors view if the howler exploded or said some right nasty things. He opened it.

“HARRY POTTER!” yelled a voice Harry recognized as Sirius.

And then it was quiet for a moment. The laughter emanated from the howler. “Harry, I'm sorry for taking so long to write back, but it took me four days to stop laughing long enough pick up a quill.”

Harry felt his face turn red.

“Sorry, son, I wasn't laughing at you about having thoughts of girls. I was laughing at how much bolder you had been than either your father or I. He pursued your mother for a year before he could get her to look at him as a serious candidate for a boyfriend. You, on the other hand, saw the girl, made a plan, worked the plan, and kissed her. Bravo, my boy. And, no mean feat it was either. It's much riskier with a girl who is already your friend. I wish your father could see you now.”

There was a pause. Harry's face had turned ashen and he fought back tears.

“I apologize for that Harry. I forget how painful it must still be for you to hear of your father and not know him properly. He would have laughed as I am doing now. I have advice for you Harry. It may not be easy when all you want to do is suck the girl's face right off her head…er..snog, I mean. But anyway, I think it is sound.”

“You and Hermione are friends. Take advantage of that. Don't get worked up over the kiss portion of what happened. Be glad for having a nice and intelligent girl for a friend. Write to her. Don't gush about her but be sure to let you know things that about her that make you feel good. Just tell her what you're feeling about life in general and see if she does the same. Be careful not to expect her to know how you feel though Harry. If I'm not mistaken, your friend Ron's name may come up in ways that will make you uncomfortable.”

“I'm sorry for taking so long when I know you must feel like it is an eternity. I hope that you understand why it took so long to write back. It took me several days to recall what love is like at your age after all I have been through. Remember my advice Harry. Your friendships are most important.”

“One piece of advice that your father and I always used as a slogan when the subject was women was this: `Be careful where you go writing your name with your quill Harry. You have ink in it.' Get it. If you don't I'll explain when we meet.” Sirius was laughing.

Take care, son.

It was like no other howler Harry had ever seen or heard of. He thought that his godfather would be yelling at him or at the very least admonishing him for contacting him over such a trivial thing. He'd called him `son'. He liked the sound of that. His heart ached to see his godfather more than ever at that moment.

Harry had gotten so worked up over the howler that he'd forgotten the letter on the other leg. It was from Hermione. He felt queasy. Suddenly, he was more apprehensive at the prospect of opening this letter than he had the howler. He unstuck the seal holding it together.

Dear Harry,

I was sitting in my room today thinking about how nice it was to see a happy grin on your face when we said good bye. Ron and I are always sad when we think of how lonely you are during the summers, so I decided to do something about it.

Crookshanks and I sit quietly in my room most days while I read. I know…boring…huh? Well, it's how I manage to stay ahead of things at Hogwarts and keep you two boys from getting expelled…that is when you're not arguing over stupid things like Quidditch and who put whose name in some stupid old cup….just kidding, Harry.

Well, know that I'm thinking of you often. Take care and see you on your birthday.

Hugs,

Hermione

Harry felt like he could fly without his broom. It was one of the first times he'd received a letter from Hermione where she hadn't told him to write to Dumbledore or Sirius. She'd shared her life outside Hogwarts with him…eight whole lines. He knew he was being absolutely ridiculous, but he was happy and he knew it.

Harry flopped back down in front of the television and searched the channels. He found a whole load of rubbish shows that ranged from talk shows about how to groom your pet llama to clipping the toenails of an elderly diabetes patient. With each new channel he feigned sticking his fingers down his throat in mockery of them. Soon, he had run out of channels. It didn't take him long after that to realize that he was now looking for reasons not to write back to Hermione.

Harry shut off the television and put everything back in its place. He went upstairs and found his runners and put them on deciding that he needed to think of what he would write to Hermione. There were so many things on his mind that he wanted to make sure that writing to her this time was different. He wanted it to be special.

The first thing that occurred to him as he walked was how old-fashioned Sirius' advice seemed. The next thing piece of advice would be to take her to a place like Madame Puddifoot's and order a fizzy drink with two straws and just stare in each other's eyes like he heard couples do on Hogsmeade weekends. He had a hard time thinking of Hermione on the other end of a frozen virgin pumpkin juice daiquiri. He laughed as he thought of the story he'd heard about the couple who had spewed their daiquiris out of their noses from giggling so much and grossed out the entire tearoom.

He found himself on Magnolia Crescent glad that Dudley and his crew were not out and about during the day. He knew that he'd probably catch hell for being out walking if the neighbors complained to Uncle Vernon. Who could tell what fabricated incident one of them would accuse him of next.

The second thing that he thought of was what happened between Hermione and Viktor this year. She had been pretty open about the fact that Viktor liked her a lot. It had aggravated Ron to no end. He hated the idea that somehow he might be put in the position of being someone used to make Ron jealous again. He shook the thought off and realized that maybe that was why Sirius had been adamant about focusing on their friendship. He respected his godfather, so he decided it was worth a try.

Harry went down a mental list of every like and dislike he could think of when it came to Hermione: her favorite color, her favorite tree, her favorite book (Hogwarts—a History) and her favorite cause. He groaned. He would have to face the issue with S.P.E.W. She was his friend and he was treasurer after all. He would just have to make an effort. He shook his head with self-loathing and laughed, “What we will do for love.”

It wasn't long and he found himself back in front of number four, Privet Drive. He didn't feel that his walk was wasted. He was happy that he had something else to think of other than his fixation on the news later that afternoon to find out what Lord Voldemort was doing. Sadness crept into his mind as well as twinge of concern for Hermione and her family.

Harry had never done anything so hard in all his life, he thought. He had written over twenty unsent letters to Hermione looking at each one thinking how pathetic it was compared the last one he hadn't sent. Sometimes he liked what he'd written, but hated how he had ended it: Love, Harry. Was he crazy? He couldn't say he loved her. Sure he knew he loved her like a sister…but, that gave him the creeps and stunted his writing process for two more days.

Then there was the letter where he tried to be Mister Smooth. He kept this one only because he'd found it so funny.

Hello Love,

I was thinking of you this morning as I heard the pitter-pat of the rain outside my window. It occurred to me how wonderful it would be to be sitting here listening to that sound holding your hand.

He laughed out loud as he remembered writing it three days ago. He read through some of the others that he'd save because they had good lines in them or a sentiment that he want to tell her but couldn't get quite right. He was frustrated and decided he'd try one more time doing his best to think of her as only his friend.

Hi Hermione,

I was sitting here today just thinking of how much I miss talking with you and Ron. It was funny though how different it is talking to you than to Ron. It's not that I don't like talking to Ron, it's just different. Well, anyway, I've been looking at some horrible programs on the television lately and wondered if you ever had time to look at the telly?

Hedwig loves to run letters, so I often wonder why I don't write more often. What have you been up to lately? Have you been doing anything connected to S.P.E.W.? Don't get me wrong, I still don't understand the point, but seeing as I'm treasurer I owe it to you to do my best to help.

I miss sitting in the library taking the Mickey out of you while you study. Look forward to seeing you at the end of the month.

Hugs to you too,

Harry

He read it over at least a hundred times. For every thing that he hated about it, he found one he liked. At first, he didn't like mentioning S.P.E.W because he knew he didn't really care about it. But after he read it several times, he realized that he had said the right thing. She was his friend and he hadn't resigned from it. He owed her his best effort. The chit-chat about television was mundane and boring, but it gave him a chance to ask her about what she liked. Finally, he decided that it was better than not writing to her at all.

His heart pounded.

He took Hedwig out of the cage and looked at the letter in his hand one more time. He'd written more eloquent letters that he hadn't sent, but he knew this one was the one that made the most sense. He convinced himself to let it go.

“Hedwig,” he said quietly as he slid the window open to the midnight air. “Find Hermione and give her this.” Hedwig hooted softly as she flew out the window and banked into the wind.

Harry spent the next few nights nervously awaiting a reply that he knew may never come. Had he sounded so much like a friend that Hermione ignored his letter and would just talk to him about it when they saw each other? Or, had he sounded so hypocritical about S.P.E.W. that she took issue with it and refused to write? He worried about where he'd spelled `telly' right? He still didn't know. He wanted her to write back so badly he almost welcomed a nightmare to take his mind off it. He slapped himself for thinking that way.

It was only sixteen days until he went to the Burrow for his birthday. He had his calendar this year marking two days instead of only the start of the school year. He'd never had a proper birthday party. He wondered if anyone knew that or not. Hedwig had not come back, but often she would stay away for days at a time because it seemed as if she knew it made Uncle Vernon happy not to have an owl swooping around their house day in and day out.

Harry heard a clatter at the window. It was Hedwig with a letter. Harry immediately recognized Hermione's handwriting. It was like opening his favorite candy. He wanted all of it at once, but he knew he needed to read slowly or it would be over too fast after all of the anticipation.

Dear Harry,

Thank you so much for writing back. I didn't expect it. I know what you mean about talking to different people. Viktor made me feel so much like a girl that sometimes I can't stand waiting for his next reply. Don't worry I'm not going gaga over a guy who lives thousands of miles away. But I do so love the way I felt when I wasn't just plain old Hermione. Oh, don't take offense Harry. You're much better about that than Ron is.

To answer your questions: we get some of the American shows and occasionally I'll watch bits of those, but I'm not really interested in muggle life so much anymore so they're pretty boring.

You have no idea how happy I was to see you even mention S.P.E.W. and actually put the periods between the letters. Ron seems to think it's funny to use the word spew in almost every sentence that he writes when he talks about something he doesn't like. He's such a prat sometimes. But what are you going to do? You either love them or you leave them. Friends that is, Harry.

I've been studying and rewriting my arithmancy notes from last year. You should do that for some of your classes too, Harry. Don't forget that O.W.L.'s are at the end of the year. Please feel free to write again soon. It was fun to hear from you when you seem so carefree.

Harry, I know that it must be a struggle to act happy about things just for our benefit. We miss you terribly and I hope you are really alright.

Loads of Hugs, (hehe)

Hermione

Harry ran to his trunk and pulled out his quill and wrote feverishly.

Hi Hermione,

It was great to hear from you again. I know what you mean when you say that we get different feelings from different people. It's nice to feel appreciated and welcomed. That's how you and Ron have always made me feel. Maybe I've never thanked you properly, but you make a great deal of difference in my life.

Well, this is just a short note before I go off to sleep. Good night, Hermione. Don't study too hard. Hey, I have a confession. I stole the three knuts that were in the treasury. Don't get the Ministry on me. Just kidding. Miss ya loads.

Hugs,

Harry

P.S. The nightmares are easier when I know you are thinking about me. Harry

Harry fed Hedwig a treat. “Do you mind, girl? Take this back to Hermione as quick as you can, okay?” said Harry.

Hedwig flew away quickly. Harry knew he'd taken a chance, but he felt good about being honest and not measuring his words. He hoped he hadn't sounded stupid.

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3. The Unwitting Confession

The Unwitting Confession—Chapter 3

Harry awoke sopping with sweat. His heart raced and he shook. He looked at his arm and saw the faint line still marking where Wormtail had drawn his blood in the ritual to restore Lord Voldemort to his body. There was a spasm in his stomach as he remembered how close he'd come to dying that night. He had to hurry to the loo in case he vomited. This was a whole new kind of anguish.

The feeling passed as he thought of Hermione's sweetly innocent smile after he kissed her the day they parted. How could an event so unrelated to Voldemort be the antidote for pure revulsion and disgust? Harry stood there pondering this question for several seconds until he realized that there were times that the loo was a tiny bit more confined for thinking than others.

He hoped that the noise he'd made rushing down the short hall had not awakened anyone. The last thing he needed in these early morning hours was to compound the lingering effects of a nightmare with the boorish rants of Uncle Vernon. He sneaked successfully back to his room and lie down in the dark staring at the ceiling once more.

`Nirvana.' That word suddenly popped in his head. Where had he heard that word before? Why when he thought of it, did Hermione's soft voice ring in his head? He shook it off. His mind tried to capture her voice and lock it in. Soon, he'd fallen back to sleep.

It didn't seem like very long at all when the sun sparkled through the window and into Harry's eyes. He couldn't believe it. After all of his days staying in this room, it had happened only once before. There was only one spot in his bed where the sun could rudely awaken him. Harry groggily sat up and shaded his eyes with his arm. “Dang,” he thought, “and I was sleeping so well.” He only left the shade on his window up when Hedwig was out prowling for a snack or he was awaiting a letter. He got up pulled the shaded down and collapsed back onto his bed.

He drifted in and out of sleep until he heard the door to Uncle Vernon's car close. “Six days until our trip to London, Dudley my boy,” he said proudly.

Harry moved to the window and peered around the shade. He saw his Uncle, Aunt and cousin. Uncle Vernon backing the car out of the drive as Petunia and Dudley walked back in. “Duddykins, Marilynn will be by shortly to take us shopping for our holiday in London. Please get ready, dear.”

Harry looked at his clock to see the time. It was just after eight. He laughed to himself as he thought of Dudley getting more stuff he would bang around and abuse. Harry wished he had half the things Dudley did, but if it meant that he would have to be like him to get them…Harry changed his mind.

Harry wasn't sure whether he'd fallen back asleep or just simply sat dazed for time between that last thought of Dudley and the sound of Petunia's friend Marilynn's nasally voice intruding on his blissful state.

“Petunia, are you going to get one of those sundresses we liked so well the last time we shopped? Or, are you going to get those adorable spiked heels?” she said.

“Sh, he will hear you,” she whispered from just outside his door. He could imagine Aunt Petunia pointing disgustedly toward his door.

“Petunia why do you care what that evil, little boy thinks? Your sister-in-law Marge was right, if this boy is as inconsiderate as you describe. He should be sent off and never allowed to return,” said Marilynn mean-spiritedly.

Harry laughed. He knew that Marilynn had only seen him once in passing and had not known who he was. So Harry took everything she said and let it run like water off a ducks back.

“Okay, ready Dudders?” asked Petunia.

“Yes, Mother,” he said in a tired voice. Harry imagined how horrible it must be to be a fifteen year old boy being stuck with these two gems on a shopping spree. Harry sniggered, but covered his mouth when he realized it started to come out as a full out laugh.

The front door closed. Harry was alone again at last. He looked up at the calendar confirming what Uncle Vernon had said. He would be going to the Burrow on July 30th and returning on the afternoon of August 1st. Three whole days away from this place seemed as though he would be taking a trip to heaven. He hoped Hermione would be there the entire time. He didn't know that yet. For a brief second, that realization was a let down. “Ah, heck,” he thought. “Ron and I'll have a blast regardless.”

He repeated that to himself over and over. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. It was only partially true. He and Ron could have a good time anywhere, anytime;/ that was true. But, he wanted to make a memory or two with Hermione. He didn't even know what he meant by that. It was just a fleeting thought. `Nirvana.' There was that word again and her voice.

The fact that both Dudley and he were sent off to school each year made the Dursley home pretty much devoid of reference material. But after a long careful search, Harry found the dictionary stuffed on a dusty, old shelf in his Uncle's seldom used office. He looked up the word. “Nirvana,” he muttered. “Ah, there it is.” Nirvana: a place or state of rest, harmony, or pleasure.

He laughed nervously. Somewhere in his mind, a word so descriptive of the way he felt when thoughts of Hermione arose had just popped into his head from nowhere accompanied by her voice. It was almost a spiritual experience. He wondered where he'd heard it before. He had to have heard it, didn't he?

The rest of the morning Harry spent distracting himself with images of flying on the Quidditch pitch diving after the Golden Snitch and catching it. Each time he imagined a different way Hermione had leapt into his arms in joyful celebration. He wanted to feel her arms around his neck and feel her cheek against his. In a few, he imagined nervously that they ended with a full-on mouth to mouth kiss. He shook those off not knowing how he would manage kissing her without…how had Sirius put it? Then he remembered…without sucking her face right off her head. He laughed knowing that was unlikely to become reality anytime soon.

He shivered and moved on to gathering his things off the floor of his room. He hardly ever felt inspired to clean his room, but he'd had a daydream that Hermione was coming over to watch a movie and the horror of taking him into his room made him self-conscious. So, he cleaned it to the point of being able to eat the horrible dinners Aunt Petunia made right off the floor.

By mid-afternoon, he was exhausted. What was he thinking? There was no scenario in which he could actually see Hermione coming to 4 Privet Drive. He tried but couldn't imagine how he would let her even come near these foul people when they could spend their time in town goofing off. He realized that he'd never let her come there. He took consolation in the fact that he could now find his things easier when he went to the Burrow just few days from then.

He was lying on his bed with his feet dangling off when Hedwig appeared at the window. The blast of warm air reminded him of the air conditioning he'd taken for granted. She'd come back empty handed. Harry felt a sinking feeling. He knew Hermione had gotten his letter, because Hedwig would never have returned without getting it to her. He felt queasy again as if all his musings had been a waste of mental and emotional energy.

Through the rest of that day and most of that night, he lolled about hopelessly wishing Hermione were just down the street. He knew he was going crazy over her now. He felt ridiculous. Did other guys feel this way about the girls they liked? Or, was he some silly pansy? He stared off into the sky wondering what the alignment of the stars meant at that very moment. Did they foretell a future Hermione and him? Or, was his dream of being with her too insignificant for the celestial bodies to have anything to say on the subject at all?

A thought occurred to him for the first time. What would Hermione think if she saw him right now? What would she do if she knew that he was desperately, madly in love with her and he acted like this? What would she say if she saw him feeling sorry for himself because he hadn't received a reply to his letter in less than twenty-four hours? The answer snapped him out of his quandary. “She would be disgusted with a loser like him,” he thought. This was exactly the way Ron had acted at the Yule Ball.

He straightened himself up and took a deep breath. She deserved a guy who would act like a man. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he knew that was right. He had a lot of questions to answer to figure out what it meant to be a man. But he knew acting like he would die without her was definitely not being a man. He could see her cringing if she knew he was doting on her like that. For God's sake he was only fourteen, soon to be fifteen and she would be sixteen in September. But he could act like a man by having some dignity.

Whether by magic or not, Harry never knew, but Hedwig started making a ruckus in her cage as if she needed to be let loose. He opened the cage and she immediately jumped to his outstretched finger. “What's the matter girl?” he asked. “Do you need to go hunting for food or stretch your wings?” Hedwig hooted enthusiastically in reply. Harry opened the window and let her fly. He remembered later that summer that she'd disappeared faster than she'd ever done before.

He drifted off to sleep. For some unknown reason, it was the most peaceful night's sleep he'd had that summer. His dreams took him to Hermione standing in a garden full of fresh flowers with her hair done like she had the night of the Yule Ball. Her eyes were wide and inviting. Her smile was broad and toothy. Her lips were pinkish and full. In his dream he half-expected Hermione to sprout wings and fly away leading him to heaven…to Nirvana. “Hi, Harry,” she said.

“Hi, Hermione. You look spectacular,” said Harry as his heart had moved to his throat now and pounded threateningly as if it could stop the words from escaping his lips.

“Thank you, Harry. It's very kind of you to say so,” she said softly.

“What are we doing here?” asked Harry.

“We're getting to know each other, of course,” she said.

“But we've known each other since we've been eleven,” said Harry.

“Not like we do now, Harry,” she said.

“What do you mean, Hermione?” he asked.

“Don't you feel it, Harry?” she asked.

“Oh, you mean the excitement…the love,” he surprised himself. He'd said it.

“Exactly, Harry. It's been here all along and we didn't see it,” she said.

“What do we do, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“Just what we're doing now, Harry. We enjoy our time together,” said Hermione.

“Will they bring food to us in the garden?” said Harry with a smile.

“Who needs food when we have each other Harry,” she said as she closed her eyes and kissed him.

He awoke with a start. Hedwig was at the window. His heart was beating so hard. He hoped he could get back to that dream. He opened the window, “Horrible timing, girl,” he muttered. But a second later, his heart leapt with joy at the sight of the note and handwriting on Hedwig's leg.

Dear Harry,

Hi! I wanted to send a letter by return post, when Hedwig was here last. I didn't know if she understood, but I asked her to come fetch your letter tonight. It's a long story.

Harry, you have no idea how wonderful it is to know that I have such a positive effect on you. We've been friends for so long that sometimes I think you put up with me out of habit or because Ron and I are friends.

I have your present. I'm so excited to give it to you. I hope you like it. I had better be quiet or my excitement might make me spoil the surprise right here in this letter. (hehe)

I don't know why I can't study these days. Maybe it's the excitement that the summer really only begins when I get to Ron's in three days time. We only have time for maybe one more letter each before we see each other on your birthday. I'm so excited.

Well, I have to get to bed. It's nearly midnight and Hedwig's at my window. Good night, Harry. I'm thinking of you right now.

Hugs and kisses,

Hermione

“Ha!” shouted Harry with a smile that threatened to shoot his ears right off the sides of his head.

“What the devil is going on in there?” an angry Uncle Vernon yelled. “You'd better be quiet in there boy or we'll not be taking you to see those freak friends of yours this weekend.”

Rather than answer, Harry jumped on his bed covering his head with his pillow. He screamed his delight over hear letter into it hoping that no one heard and half caring if they did.

“She likes me,” he whispered to himself. “She really likes me.” He wanted to do a little dance of joy but he knew he might make too much noise.

He reread her letter again and again. “Did she really mean kisses? Or is that just something girls say to let guys know they like them?” he thought.

He took out her other letters: hugs, loads of hugs, and now…hugs and kisses. He felt great. He went to his trunk, pulled out the quill and parchment and began writing.

Dear Hermione,

I just received your letter. I've never been so happy in my entire life. I want to run through the streets screaming your name at the top of my lungs.

I had a dream too. We were standing together in a garden and you looked as beautiful as ever. I couldn't take my eyes off of you. We kissed.

“Whoa, there Romeo,” he said to himself. “You can never send that to her. Not now anyway. She would be freaked out. It was a simple giggly sixteen year old girl saying `hugs and kisses'.” He settled down, folded that one up and put it in with the `do not send' pile. He began writing again only this time he would capture the moment a little more subtly.

Hi Hermione,

I was so surprised to be awakened by Hedwig at my window. If the letter had been from anyone but you I would have been disappointed at being woken up. Thanks for replying so quickly.

I am excited about my birthday party too. Have I ever told you I've never had a real one before? Well, this will be the first one. Presents? I never really thought about that. Yours must really be good for you to be so excited.

Have you talked or written to Ron? I'm looking forward to maybe fooling around on our brooms while I'm there.

As usual, your letter has me on cloud nine. I hope you know what I mean. It's so nice to have friends who are honest and caring like you and Ron. But you are especially so, thanks a lot. I miss you and I look forward to spending time with you at the Burrow.

Hugs,

Harry

Harry looked at the letter and felt satisfied, but not so satisfied that he'd send it right away. He wanted to sleep on the thoughts of her latest letter first. He left it unfolded on top of all the others in his trunk and went off to bed.

Harry never recaptured the dream of kissing Hermione, but he didn't have any nightmares either. He awoke at the normal time and stretched. He felt bold this morning so he braved the ill-will of the Dursleys and walked past them toward the door.

“Where do you think you're going?” demanded Vernon Dursley.

“Sorry, sir. I just thought I'd go out for some fresh air. Is that okay?” said Harry politely. Inside he hated to beg to go out, but he was taking no chances on being disrespectful just five days from going to the Burrow.

“Get on with it then,” said Uncle Vernon. “Just don't do any you-know-what out in public.”

Harry tried not to let the laugh escape his mouth. Uncle Vernon almost always said that when he went out. It was as if he had forgotten that Harry was prohibited from doing magic outside of school. He had to get out of his room. It was the first time he could remember being outside at this time of the morning in almost a month or more. It was certainly the first time he could remember while he was on Privet Drive that he'd done so.

He walked looking at the dew still settling on the grass as he walked past the finely manicured lawns of the surrounding neighborhood. The distraction of this early morning walk was having the desired effect. He felt calm and collected. He wouldn't go back home quickly, because unlike other days today was Sunday and the Dursleys would surely greet him with disdain when he returned. He didn't want his mood broken. Here, right now, he could laugh them off. Seeing it in person was a different matter.

He found the swings in the nearby park and sat on one thinking. What if I'm wrong about Hermione's letter? She's too in touch with her emotions to have written the way she did without thinking.

Harry couldn't decide whether he was on foot or a horse at the moment. It was confusing. Why was it so confusing? She was a bright girl with a smile he'd never noticed much until a month ago, but a smile, a peck on the cheek, and a lousy teenage salutation at the bottom of a letter didn't mean he should go nuts over her. He wanted to do that very thing so badly. He laughed as he got off the swing. “Harry,” he muttered to himself. “Just write another letter somewhere in between the ranting one and the stiflingly ordinary one and be done with it.”

Harry was glad that the back door to the house was open and the Dursleys sat in the living room. He was able to slip by quite unnoticed and proceeded to his room. He sat down on his bed with his quill and parchment and scrawled this letter.

Dear Hermione,

You sound so excited. I'm glad. I am too. It is going to be my best birthday ever. Part of that is because it's been so nice writing to you this summer. I hope you feel the same way too.

With everything that happened at Hogwarts this past year, our whole world is changing. My nightmares really are more manageable when I know that you think of me. That's the worst thing about them. I feel so alone. Enough about that stuff.

Do you think about what it would have been like if you, Ron and I had never met? I do every once in a while and it seems impossible that two people could have made such a difference in my life.

I took a walk this morning and just wanted to share some of my thoughts with you. I can't wait to see you. From your letter, I see you'll be there a couple days before I get there. Do you and Ron have anything planned? I'm jealous you know.

Well, I'm just rambling now, so I'll close and send it before Hedwig needs help carrying two rolls of parchment. (hehe) Thought I'd steal your idea of showing laughter. Take care and I'll see you in four or five days.

Hugs,

Harry

He copied his letter over to get rid of the smudges. He didn't want to get expelled for using magic to do it…not for something like that.

“Harry, get down here,” bellowed Uncle Vernon.

Harry knew he didn't dare let an owl out of his window if Uncle Vernon was so aware of his presence. He quickly put his letter and quill back into the trunk and closed the lid.

“Coming, Uncle Vernon,” he answered.

“About time Harry,” said Uncle Vernon when he got down stairs. Harry saw the neighbor from across the street standing in the foyer saying good bye to Aunt Petunia.

“Harry, that woman says she saw you in the living room the other day watching our television while we were gone,” said Uncle Vernon. “The woman's a busy body but no matter. I just want to tell you that that kind of behavior with our belongings will not be tolerated in the future. Do you understand?”

Harry couldn't believe his ears. It must have been a week ago or more since he'd been in the living room watching television. Even if it had been more recently, it wasn't a crime. He sighed again, swallowing his anger to ensure that he'd get to go the next weekend. “Yes sir, no television when you are not home,” said Harry.

Surprised at his tone, Uncle Vernon let it rest with one final comment. “Good, we understand each other. See Petunia being firm with Harry works.”

“May I go back to my room now?” he asked politely as he fumed inside.

“Yes,” said his Uncle with a wave of his hand.

When he returned to his room, he put his head under his pillow to let off the steam that was building inside him. He screamed every foul name he could think of at his Uncle and made up some nonsense ones to satisfy his anger. When he pulled his head out from under it, he laughed. Then he sighed.

A half-hour later, Harry could not account for what happened next. He finished copying the letter. He took Hermione's and all of his ramblings out and set them on his bed. He saw a couple of the ones he had written that seemed fairly harmless now. Absentmindedly, he folded the letter he just copied sealed it and opened Hedwig's cage. He thought twice before he tied to her leg. He snuck to the top of the stairs and down a couple of steps to make sure that Uncle Vernon wasn't in the yard to see the owl take off. He was in the living room still watching the television. He moved quickly before anything could change, tied the note to Hedwig's leg and let her go. “Take it to Hermione, girl,” he said. Silently this time Hedwig soared out the window and nearly straight up as if she knew to stay out of Harry's Uncle's sight.

With Hermione on his mind, he reread her letters and his replies. When he got to the last one he looked at the original that he'd just copied. With a sigh of satisfaction, he was glad he'd sent that one and neither of the other two. He looked for them now to get a laugh at his ramblings. He found the one that he'd finished the night before sitting on top of the stack he'd made of ones he might have sent if he'd not been inspired to write another. But he couldn't find the other one right away.

He went to the trunk and looked through everything. He saw one piece of parchment at the bottom and thought that it had to be the lost letter. When he picked it up he noticed it was just the scrap that he'd used to test his quill. He wasn't concerned for the moment. He looked under his bed. Maybe he'd left the window open and the wind had carried it under there. It wasn't.

Harry's heart pounded as the worst popped into his head. His hands patted his pockets in the faint hope that he'd put it there. He hoped it had simply been lost, but he knew better. Somehow, he must have put it in with his newly copied version and sent it.

He didn't know how he felt. If he hadn't innocently said he was jealous in the last version, he could play off the uncompleted one as a joke designed to tease her and that he'd decided it was over-the-top. The jealousy he spoke of was supposed to be the same as it always been—a remark pointed at the fact that they had each other and he couldn't be there. Nothing more and nothing less. He found himself wishing that Hedwig could read and would pull it from her delivery. He laughed nervously. He knew there was a better chance of Voldemort showing up and committing suicide in front of the guests. Which as the thought passed through his mind, he considered as viable alternative for himself. If she replied, he hoped she had taken it as a joke. If she didn't, he hoped she didn't avoid him at the party.

It was out of his hands now. He sighed and dreaded the humiliating nightmares he was sure would follow.

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4. The Unexpected Reply

The Unexpected Reply—Chapter 4

Harry was surprised at how well he was taking possibly the greatest embarrassment of his young life. They had spent half the year denying rumors that they had feelings for each other. He had even told Viktor that he and Hermione didn't have a thing going on between them. He'd said it in no uncertain terms. Harry almost felt relief come over him at the thought of Hermione giggling at a quickly scrawled letter that was obviously meant as a joke. That's the way he wanted it to turn out. There was no other positive outcome he could think of. Somehow he felt it was more serious than that and he couldn't understand why.

As that evening passed and Hedwig returned, Harry started to think that maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe he had not sent it. He couldn't bear to look again. Each letter he'd written would make him ache and spoil his illusion that it was for the best. He couldn't help himself. He read her letters without reading his. A brilliant thought popped into his head—write to Sirius. By now he'd become used to writing and it came second nature. He knew with Sirius he could just lay it all out there.

Dear Sirius,

I was wondering if you have any idea how I might get out of a fix I'm in. Right now, I'm numb…actually…numb and dumb. I wrote something that I never expected Hermione to see and somehow, I sent it. It's been just a few hours now, but I'm in agony.

I mean there is always the possibility that she feels the same way, right? Help me Sirius. This is a hard thing to deal with. I need my friends. And, right now I just need you to tell me I'll be okay.

If you have time, Sirius, send me a return owl with some words of encouragement. Maybe you have an idea of how to fix this so that she doesn't think I'm some blithering idiot.

Harry

Harry sat on the edge of his bed looking at the mad ramblings and realized that they did him no good sitting here. He'd send them. Surely, Sirius had had a crush and been crushed in return. He knew that probably almost every guy had.

“Hedwig, want to go see Sirius?” asked Harry thinking of how pathetic he was talking to his owl like that. “Take this to Sirius.” Hedwig hesitated and then put out her leg. Harry opened the window. Hedwig moved the same way he felt, slowly and sadly. Finally, she took flight and went out of sight.

He felt better after Hedwig was gone for some reason. Something along the way in his life taught him that nothing is as bad as it seems and often the opposite is just as true as well.

“I have to remember, I'm fifteen and I've survived so much more than this,” he muttered under his breath. Then he added, “Even if I got through it because of Ron and Hermione.”

He knew that's what bothered him. He needed their strength that came from being friends with them. He didn't want to damage that.

By midnight, he'd settled down to what he hoped was an understanding of his predicament. He simply had to explain how he'd sent it and why he'd written it. For the first time in a while, he laughed. He couldn't answer those questions for himself yet. Telling Hermione was not going to be easy. He shut the light and crawled into bed.

Harry got more nervous as the day to leave for the Burrow got closer. He'd put away his quill and parchment vowing not to write down anything from now on that could get him in this kind of spot. He'd come to the realization that it was that `a spot' not real `trouble'. Hermione wasn't some monster, he'd reasoned. She'd get over it. He knew heartbreak. All he had to do was think of his parents or Cedric to put it in perspective. But he knew he might be missing out on a lot and that hurt.

With two days to go until his departure, he decided that he'd take a walk while Aunt Petunia and Dudley were gone. He liked to walk while they were gone because he didn't have to feel like a criminal leaving or returning. Sneaking out was no better than facing him, because he still felt like he was doing something wrong when he wasn't. He wished he had more pictures of Hermione. He had one that included all three of them. He knew that this feeling might be the only valid fear of the bunch. If she did feel uncomfortable around him, he'd never be able to ask her for a picture again. That was sad.

He'd seen his classmates. He knew what it was like when a girl or a guy liked someone who didn't return the same feelings. Life could be hell. People scattered. Conversation stopped when they entered a room. They stared. He had experienced all of them just for being Harry Potter, but now one of the people he cared about most might be forced to do the same thing. He was glad for the fresh air and the sound of the kids in the park. It reminded him that life goes on. He walked for hours that morning into the afternoon.

Finally, he realized he was getting dangerously close to the time that the Dursleys would come home and find him gone. They would just compound the agony. He got home and was climbing the steps to his room as he heard the three of them return. He didn't care how they had all gotten together. He didn't care about them at all.

At the top of the stairs he noticed that the door to his room was open. He never left it open. He became wary and pulled his wand from his waistband where he always kept it hidden. He peered around the door and almost crashed back into the other wall when he saw Sirius standing in his room. “Harry, where the devil have you been,” he said.

“Sirius, you can't be here. You picture has been in the muggle news. My Aunt and Uncle would love to get you out of my life. They just came home,” said Harry frantically.

“Sh,” whispered Sirius. “I knew I should have sent Hedwig back to tell you to stay in the house. I've been here three hours and so has this ruddy bird.”

He saw the owl but only worried about his godfather. Harry realized that there was less danger of discovery now that he was home than there would have been if he'd have been gone when the Dursleys returned. He also realized that Dobby's mere presence in his room had not bothered them until Dobby'd done magic to try to keep Harry from going to Hogwarts. Maybe, yes, the invisibility cloak was right there. “Oh, you've had the cloak out.”

“Yes, Harry. I'm quite adept at figuring out how remain hidden,” whispered Sirius. “Are you going to take Hermione's letter from the ruddy owl or what?”

Harry suddenly wanted to do something else. He hugged his godfather. “It's good to see you,” he whispered.

“Harry, quit being a bloody blithering idiot and read the bloody letter,” he whispered more forcefully and then smiled.

Harry smiled back as his words from his letter to Sirius woke him up. Sirius walked to the corner to give Harry privacy.

Dear Harry,

I'm writing this as I finish packing for Ron's. I won't be coming home after your party. I'll be staying in The Burrow. We just decided that on the telephone last night. I just realized that I never gave you my number, but it doesn't matter now.

Anyway, I hoped to hear from you one more time before I left home, but maybe I'll get it tomorrow. Since I don't leave until the next morning, I'll have to answer it probably when you get there. (hehe). I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to having time with you and Ron.

It really is like meeting a new friend when we can write to each other like this. I like the fact that I'm helping you overcome the nightmares. You're helping me too. I get lonely when no one writes to me either.

Harry, I'm really sorry, but I have to run. My parents are taking me to buy some muggle clothes to take with me. You know us girls. (hehe). Yay! New shoes! You must think I'm crazy. But if we're going to drive you guys crazy we have to look good. I'm really sorry; I'm in the goofiest mood ever tonight. Well as always…

Hugs and Kisses,

Hermione

Harry looked at the second one expecting the reply to his letters in that one. To his horror, it was his own unfinished rant with a huge pink question mark just below his last line. He looked closer and saw notes in the margin with arrows.

Dear Hermione,

I just received your letter. I've never been so happy in my entire life. I want to run through the streets screaming your name at the top of my lungs. ( -truth or fiction)

I had a dream too. We were standing together in a garden and you looked as beautiful as ever. I couldn't take my eyes off of you. We kissed. (sloppy or sweet)

?

Dear Harry,

The other letter was sweet. This one, I'm not so sure. The last thing I want you to think is that I'm mad at you, but if this is a joke—it's not funny. I mean, if it's a joke at least finish it so I can tell and laugh with you. As a matter of fact, I'm not going to tell you how I feel until you show me the finished version. I'm not being mean; I'm just not sure what to say.

So, I'll be looking for a finished version sometime while you're here. Okay? Is it a deal?

I won't be completely cruel. I will tell you this-- you mean the world to me Harry, but I'm not sure what you're thinking now…so…

?

Hermione

Sirius watched Harry closely from the other corner of the room. “What did she say, Harry? You look like you saw a ghost,” he whispered.

Harry's face was indeed ashen. It should have been scarlet from the blood being pumped by his rapidly beating heart. He sat down as he handed Sirius both letters.

Sirius read them with a smile.

“What did you expect Harry?” he whispered. “Did you expect little drawings of you hanging from a noose? Or, maybe, you expected a confession of undying love and devotion? I think she's a very special girl,” said Sirius.

“Oh, that makes me feel loads better. Now I get to feel like I screwed up a relationship with a girl my godfather thinks is special,” said Harry shaking his head with his chin down.

“Well, I think you're a special young man, Harry. I think you're up for the challenge. And it is a challenge,” said Sirius. “I'm not going to force feed you with information like you got for the Triwizard Tournament Harry. You may be angry at me for this, but I think you can figure it out with a simple analogy and a short story.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Do you know what I would give to make sure this works out?” said Harry.

“Yes, and you're going to have to earn it. It's the only way Harry,” said Sirius. “You are like the son I never had, Harry. But, I think your father would agree. He would have told you how he felt, but I can't do that. I can only tell you what I saw and give you the analogy. That's all you get, Harry. Do you want it or not? Your choice.”

“I guess you leave me no choice,” said Harry. “Go ahead.”

“All you need to know is what I'm telling you now. The rest will take care of itself. Are you going to listen carefully or just wallow in self-pity, son?” asked Sirius. “I'm not going to tell you a formula. It doesn't work that way.”

“I said go ahead,” said Harry shaken with the directness of his godfather's comment.

“The analogy is the game of Cat and Mouse. Cat and Mouse in love is common. As long as both people play by the rules, it works perfectly. It's not done by talking it over, it just happens. One person is the aggressor, the Cat, and the other the prey, the mouse. The mouse wants to be caught and the cat wants to catch it. The key is the mouse doesn't want to be eaten. It wants its chance to be the Cat again. Both sexes play each role at some point in their courtship. Eventually, trust with each others emotions makes the game less interesting and they just stop playing and they are themselves,” said Sirius. “Your dad and mom did that for a year. There are ways to do it. He learned the hard way and you need to learn the hard way too.”

“So you're saying Hermione and I are playing Cat and Mouse,” said Harry.

“Yes, but you just took on the role of the Cat and threatened to eat her. If she believes every word of a four line letter, she could be eaten. If you haven't guessed that is translated as heartbroken. Game over. So she didn't do that. She took over as the Cat and said, how do you like it? I can eat you now.” Sirius turned and sat on the bed and Harry walked away from the door sitting beside him.

Harry sat in quiet contemplation of his godfather's analogy.

“Harry, this is where it's all you, son. It's your heart against hers. If I suggest things to you, it's not from your heart. The game is never supposed to be Win, Lose or Lose, Lose.

It's supposed to be Win, Win. You need to be honest with one another to get to the Win, Win. Jesus, I'm watching too much of that television crap,” said Sirius with a smile.

Harry laughed louder than he should, but he didn't care. All the same he pointed to the invisibility cloak just in case.

“You're both scared and the reason is that you know that the stakes are high. She's a very nice girl and you're a very good guy. You don't run into those types of people in your life very often. Just be honest. I think you can appreciate this. It's like your letter has become `The Eight-hundred Pound Gorilla'. It's there beside you one minute and beside her the next. Hers is her decision about what to do about the letter and yours is what did you really mean when you wrote it. That's all I'm going to say. Neither of you is willing to say, `Nice Gorilla.'” Sirius laughed.

The picture in Harry's mind made him laugh too.

“Harry, I have to go. I'm going to take the invisibility cloak to get out of here, but I'll send it on to the Weasleys. Dumbledore is going to be furious if he finds out I'm away, but if he found out I was here. Well, you have no idea,” said Sirius.

“Harry, it's tough. Love is tough. You're tougher and I think Hermione is too. She could have called off the game and ran already, but she didn't. If you truly think what you feel for her is love, then act like it and be a stand up guy,” advised Sirius.

He through the cloak over himself and let Harry open the door. “Owl,” whispered Sirius as he sneaked down the hall.

Harry thought he understood. He opened the door and let Pig out into the hall. Pig would have to go out the chimney as a distraction. Harry chased him down the hall and the stairs. “I'm sorry Uncle Vernon, truly I am. Won't happen again.” The chaos lasted long enough for Harry to open the door and pretend to watch the owl soar into the sky. Sirius went out behind Harry.

“HARRY! Blasted owls, I should. No, you're not ruining our weekend. You're still going but I'll get you for this,” said Uncle Vernon.

Harry heard Sirius whisper from the bushes. “Here's the cloak in the bushes. I changed my mind.” He changed into Snuffles running off down the street.

Harry ran back inside. He'd sneak down later and get the cloak from its hiding place. He laughed at the imagery of him and Hermione with two monstrous gorillas ready to do battle. But he was right there was only one and it wasn't on either side. The gorilla was their feelings for each other. He had no choice. He saw it clearly now. He felt bad that he'd ruined the easy path, but since when had he ever been allowed to take the easy path anywhere.

First, he had to remember how the dream really went. He'd simplified it as he wrote the stupid letter in his hand. He began writing. He couldn't believe how easy it was coming. Then he realized that this was the rough draft. There could be no mistakes this time. No flights of fancy would work. It had to be cold hard facts. Did he think he loved her? Was it the kind of love that lasts forever? They were young. He reminded himself. She still had a partial crush on Ron and Viktor. His heart still jumped at the sight of Cho.

“Screw Viktor,” he said to himself. “Sorry mate, but screw you too Ron.”

“Cho, no one is like Hermione. No matter how cute you are, Hermione's beautiful in my eyes,” he said softly as he wrote.

By four in the morning, Harry had written nearly three feet of parchment. He was tired, but willing to do it. He kept writing. Just before the sun came up he remembered the cloak. He had to move quickly. He got to the front door opened it silently. He got the cloak. He knew this was the moment of truth. He put the cloak on and closed the door. If it made enough noise to wake them, he would sneak to some point in the house and make an excuse. He hoped he could get to his room and pretend to be asleep.

He sighed when the door closed almost noiselessly. He scurried up to his room. He thought he might be finished, but he'd check it again later. He knew he was too tired now. He also knew that he couldn't bring nearly a full roll of parchment. Then he thought, maybe he could.

He got into bed and fell into deep sleep. The dreamed of Hermione sitting next to him having a pumpkin juice and laughing at the silliest things. He couldn't see himself, but a smile crossed his sleeping face.

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5. The First Day

The First Day---Chapter 5

There comes a time in every young man's life where the power of love and sex collide. Some handle it differently than others and certainly the experience is unique. For every fifteen year old boy this happens to, there is a different story. For Harry, his began when he awoke sitting bolt upright aroused in a way no dream had made him feel before. It had been a simple dream kiss and no more than a touch on his bare arms. It wasn't the fireworks, but the anticipation of what came next that filled his mind.

He was exhilarated and ashamed at the same time. He sat in bed as the feeling faded slowly; he was thinking how he had sat in the common room with Hermione at least twelve hundred times and never noticed her like he noticed her now. Was he exaggerating? No, he thought, at least once a day everyday for four years while at school. He wanted to remember each and every one of them, but realized that was impossible-- even ridiculous. He laughed at his own silliness.

“I am so dead,” he muttered to himself. “She'd kill me if she knew what I was thinking right now.” He wondered how his dad had felt. Somehow he knew that if he were around his parents the thought might not have seemed so appealing. But as much as he loved them, they were a sort of Romeo and Juliet story in his mind and nothing more. “Why can't I live with Sirius?”

Eventually, Harry got enough sleep that he got up for good and began packing. He only needed his wand, the cloak, and his broom—and sadly, the letter. How was he going to get his broom to the Burrow without drawing attention to it? He decided to send Hedwig ahead with a note telling the Weasleys when he would be at King's Cross. He'd ask the question and see if there were any helpful ideas.

By noon, he'd finished. The only thing that spoiled it for him was that he wouldn't have time to buy some sort of gift for Hermione. He realized that maybe that was a good thing. He was going to have battles to fight on many fronts. How was Ron going to take the news, if he found out? Mrs. Weasley had not been pleased to see Rita Skeeter's articles about him and Hermione. She'd been relieved when he'd denied them. Poor little brokenhearted Ginny would finally have to deal with him wanting someone else. It was one thing to be pine for someone else who has no boyfriend or girlfriend. And quite another when they'd found someone. He'd found that out looking at Cho and Cedric the year before. Handing a present to a girl who is not your girlfriend would arouse suspicion in all of these people.

He busied his mind with reading over his letter. He gulped every time he read something that seemed like he'd put his heart on a chopping block and handed her the cleaver. It was as if for a second, he could feel it being split in two and death overtaking him. He could see himself as the mouse when he thought about it—the Cat shaking his lifeless body not really meaning to hurt him but just acting out of instinct. He didn't want Hermione to be defensive and need to pounce. He wanted to keep her in the game long enough to see his love for her.

Finally, after rewriting the letter for the fourth time, he realized this was a living, breathing document of sorts. It would never be finished. Each time he saw Hermione in his mind's eye, he felt or saw something different; but, it also occurred to him that the letter would change with every word he said to her and with every look or word she directed at him. He was screwed and he knew it. He laughed at the irony of it all. The face he longed to see would also be the source of great turmoil.

He was too tired to think about it anymore. He needed to get to sleep. The drive from four Privet Drive would be exhausting only because he had to share it with the Dursleys. He slept the same way that night as he had the night before.

When he woke up, he heard the commotion. That boy said he wouldn't keep us waiting. He looked at the clock. It was ten in the morning. How had he let himself have a sleep in today? He raced around getting ready. He was grateful that all he had to do was shower, brush his teeth and dress. He'd already packed. He supposed that this bit of time was a blessing in disguise for twenty minutes later his mind was spinning out of control again.

Vernon Dursley was the epitome of torture and the devil himself. He could take the most innocent thing in the world, thought Harry, turn it into a crime and make you suffer for it. He had to tune out the pervasive insults by thinking of what lie ahead. Only was what he thought of any less torturous.

When would he see Hermione? Would she come to pick him up? If she did, would he even be able to look her in the eyes? If he could do that, could he keep himself calm enough to get through the trip back without blurting out how he felt or dying of a massive coronary or stroke at fifteen? He laughed out load which drew even more anger from Uncle Vernon who thought Harry was laughing at him. Harry had never been more thankful for the Dursleys' self-serving method of reasoning. They hated him enough to make him miss his own birthday party, but not enough to disrupt their plans.

The entrance to King's Cross Station was busy as usual. People from all walks of life were coming and going. He new he could find them one of two ways. He grinned at the thought. He could either look for redheads or for the girl who should have been wearing angel's wings. He saw both things almost at once. But something was wrong with the picture. One of the redheaded people was holding the angel's hand. No, wait. Both redheaded people were holding her hand.

Ron, Ginny and Hermione came running toward him. “Hey, mate. You are not going to believe the fun in store for you this weekend,” said Ron.

Harry was struggling to keep the invisibility cloak over the broom. He looked in Hermione's eyes for some sign. She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. He was too nervous to respond. He thought he saw her face turn into a frown a second later. “Ron, I need to get rid of this broom, that's why I can't shake hands or give you guys hugs,” he lied. Hermione's expression changed to a smile again.

“Well, Dad got a ministry car to take us back. Mom came with us here and Dad nicked a car from the Ministry motor pool for an hour or two to take us home. We have to hurry,” said Ron.

“So, how are you, Hermione?” asked Harry as his heart jumped to his throat.

“I'm good. And, you?” she asked.

“Good, really good now that I'm here,” said Harry still trying to control his emotions.

“This way Harry,” said Ron. “I can take the broom for you, mate.” Ron took it and set off toward the corner nearest the car parks.

Harry tried not to look at Hermione as they walked, but it was the most difficult thing he'd ever done. He was positive that the Gods of Love were torturing him before they hit him with some awful curse. He laughed nervously.

“What's with you?” asked Ron. “You seem a little off today.”

“Well, if you'd just spent an hour trapped in the car with the Dursleys you'd be stark, raving mad too,” he said with a smile.

“Good point,” said Ron.

Hermione was still unusually quiet.

“Hermione and I went to the movies yesterday, Harry,” said Ron as they walked. “What was it called Hermione?”

“It was a 60s revival weekend,” she said. “All the movies were either made in the 1960's or about them in some way.”

“Yeah, we tried a couple until we realized what rubbish they were. Then we found Austin Powers. We laughed our arse off,” said Ron.

Harry looked at Hermione who seemed to be just listening and not as enthused about it as Ron seemed to be.

“So it was fun?” asked Harry.

“It was my first time in a movie house…er…theatre,” said Ron. “I had a blast.”

“And, you Hermione?” asked Harry desperately trying to draw the usually talkative Hermione into the conversation.

“Oh, wonderful, anytime I can spend time with Ron is nice,” she said absentmindedly.

Then she added, “And with you, of course.” Harry was relieved that her voice didn't sound strained at that last bit, but it did seem that she'd used the pause for effect.

They'd reached the car, thrown the broomstick, Harry's backpack and Hedwig's empty cage into the trunk. He'd hugged Mrs. Weasley and shook Mr. Weasley's hand. Ginny got into the front seat with her mother. There seemed to be an awkward moment when Harry, Ron and Hermione tried to figure out the order of things in the backseat. He wished there were two girls in the back so he could get in the middle, but pushing Ron aside to sit next to Hermione was not an option. Hermione slid into the middle.

He wasn't as confused as he was flustered. The pace of things had left him little time to focus on Hermione without ignoring everyone else. He wanted to tell her how nice her hair looked and that he was glad to see her. The problem was that they weren't alone. He had run into the same problem with trying to get Cho alone to ask her to the Yule Ball the year before.

“Harry, we hope that you have fun this weekend,” said Mrs. Weasley.

“Yeah, mate, I'm jealous. You'd think you were royalty or something. Neither Ginny or I have had a party like this in our lives,” said Ron.

“Oh, hush, Ron,” said Mrs. Weasley. “When Hermione told us that you'd never had a birthday party in your life, we were sad Harry. Ron and Ginny don't understand that fourteen or fifteen little celebrations are more than you've ever had.”

Harry looked at Hermione who he could swear blushed a bit. “Oh, I hope you don't mind that I sort of invited myself.” He stopped short not wanting to admit that it was all to get closer to Hermione that day and just seemed to blossom into this.

“Harry, even if the Dursleys had said no, we would have found a way to help you celebrate had we known,” said Mr. Weasley.

“Harry, you should know by now that we all love you,” said Hermione without a hint of embarrassment.

Harry could hardly contain his excitement at her words. He almost said something he might have regretted if he hadn't seen Ron holding her hand. She saw him look down and took Harry's hand too.

He wasn't flustered any more, he was confused. Would she have taken his hand if he hadn't seen her holding Ron's? He was jealous, but not hotly jealous. Ron saw her take his and flushed a bit but smiled at him.

Hermione broke the awkward silence. “It's just nice that the three of us are together,” she said.

“Well, tomorrow and Sunday will be a very interesting days Harry,” said Mr. Weasley. “You'll see.”

Harry heard the voices, but his hand felt so warm in Hermione's. Their fingers were intertwined and motionless. Harry resisted the urge to see again how she was holding Ron's hand. He knew he was delusional when he imagined a gorilla sitting on top of all three of them smashed into the backseat. It was the gorilla that kept him from being able to pull Hermione to him and try to suck her face off. He laughed.

“What?” said Hermione smiling.

Harry's heart melted. He wanted to tell her. But all that came out was a white lie about Sirius, “I just thought about a joke, Sirius had told me when I said I was coming here for my birthday.”

“Care to share it?” asked Ron enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I'd like to hear this,” said Hermione with a grin as if she knew something Harry didn't.

“Harry, is this joke fit for telling with Ginny here?” asked Mrs. Weasley.

“Mom, I'm not a little kid. I've heard dirty jokes before,” Ginny protested.

Harry's heart was about to burst. He could feel the aneurism in his brain ready to burst. He was going to die. There was no joke that he could tell. He thought he understood Sirius' joke about the ink and the quill, but not completely enough to tell anyone else. Certainly, that was a joke not meant for mixed company. And, any attempt to explain the gorilla joke would mean confessing how he heard it. Besides, in his mind's eye, the gorilla really existed.

“It can wait, Harry. That Sirius, Arthur, he's a menace around children this age,” said Molly. “I'm sorry for saying it that way Harry, but your godfather is just a little raw for my tastes.”

The conversation died there. Harry used the ensuing silence to try to make up something that resembled a joke in case Ron or Hermione pressed him to tell them later. He knew it would be feeble, but his horrible joke telling ability was going to come in handy for the first time in his life. They would think it wasn't funny just because Harry couldn't tell jokes. I'll just say, `On second thought, you would have had to read it to think it was funny.' This time he resisted the urge to laugh.

When they arrived at The Burrow, Harry was nervous. How did he let go of her hand after dreaming of holding for the past month? He didn't want to seem like he was throwing it into her lap like `Thank God that's over.' Yet, he also didn't want to linger over it and make her self-conscious. He just loosened his grip a little and let her break contact. She smiled and got out on Ron's side of the car.

“Okay, kids, help Mrs. Weasley get dinner ready while I return the car. I need to get it back before they really realize that it's gone missing. Be back soon, dear,” said Mr. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley blew a kiss to her husband and waved good-bye.

It was only one-thirty, Harry realized. It seemed an eternity had passed. He hadn't been able to hold a single thought in his head other than Hermione for the past three hours. While it wasn't the perfect scenario in his mind, spending the afternoon with the twins and Ron flying around tossing a makeshift Quaffle back in forth got Harry's head back on a little straighter. Occasionally, he'd find himself looking around to see if Hermione had come outside to watch, but she hadn't.

In spite of what her husband had said on his departure, Molly Weasley's notion of help from the boys with dinner entailed getting them out of her way. Harry returned he found the three ladies laughing heartily in the kitchen. “Yeah, we'd still be trying to get the dough in the oven if you had Ron do it,” he overheard Ginny saying to Hermione. Then the laughs began. Somehow he wanted to join in but he wondered what they'd said about him. Maybe they'd had a laugh or two at his expense too. Harry was glad he was several steps in front of Ron and he'd not heard them.

“So, you boys go have a wash,” said Molly. “Your father just left work and will be back in a few minutes. Dinner will be ready almost as soon as he gets here.”

By contrast to the morning and the tortoise-like progression of time then, the time was flying by now. He and Hermione exchanged glances quite often, but he couldn't read her expression. For some reason, Mr. Weasley was delayed so there were a few minutes to kill. “Mom, we'll be outside at the table when dinner is ready,” said Ron. “I can't be around more than one woman at a time.”

Harry reluctantly went out with them because he could see that it was impossible for Hermione to breakaway from Ginny and Mrs. Weasley at this point in their preparations for dinner. “Yeah, I can't wait for Quidditch this year,” said Fred. “We should be the favorites with Harry on our team.” Fred and George `high-fived' each other in enthusiastic anticipation of winning the Hogwarts Cup for the fourth consecutive year.

“Boys, don't get yourselves dirty before dinner. Your father will be famished when he gets home and sorely unhappy if dinner is delayed,” warned Mrs. Weasley.

“Why is that? Is `ittle Ronykins getting nervous around Hermione again?” chided Fred.

“Oh, piss off, Fred. No,” he protested. “It's just that they make fun of boys when they're together and then act like your friend. It's aggravating.”

Harry thought that maybe he was wrong. It was possible that Ron had heard them as they came in earlier or something else happened before Harry had arrived.

“Come on, Ron. Admit it, mate. You've been pining for Hermione since the Yule Ball,” said George. “You saw how Fred just up and asked Angelina Johnson to the Yule Ball. It was all or nothing. If she said no, there would be no worries—it was over. If she said, yes—which she did—it would be fantastic. So either way, pressure was off.”

“Yeah, mate. She's a good kisser too that Angelina. I'll bet you think of Hermione like that too, you git,” said Fred as his brothers stood up and punched him lightly.

“Get off me, you stinking prats,” yelled Ron.

Some moments seem to be suspended in time. He wanted to smile at the scene in front of him. He suddenly wished he had brothers to tell him how to handle this with Hermione, but Ron was the lucky one. It seemed wrong on so many levels to be angry that Ron cared from Hermione. He wasn't really. He realized for the first time what it must be like to be Ron. Harry was jealous though.

Had Hermione been enjoying a little playful thumb-wrestling in silence until Harry saw their hands? Or was it just a little moment between them that she smoothed over so that Harry didn't feel left out? He tried not to think of what might have happened between them alone in a darkened movie theater.

Suddenly, he felt eyes burning into his back as he stared at Ron trying to fight off his brothers. He turned slowly and saw Hermione. She looked through the screen door. He expected to see a smile or at least a look of disgust at the Weasley brothers ignoring their mother's wishes and rolling around in the garden. It wasn't either expression. She had tears in her eyes. When she realized that Harry saw her, she wiped them and walked away. A moment later, Mrs. Weasley was screaming, “Fred, George, Ron…I warned you. Now, get in here and wash up. Your father is finally on his way.”

A moment later, Ron looked at him with his hair going every direction and a smirk. “Thanks mate. You could have at least pulled one of them off me. Some friend,” he said in feigned anger. “Just kidding, no use you getting in trouble with Mom too.”

Harry smiled. “Sorry, mate. It happened so fast and, well, yeah. I don't want to get your Mom mad at me,” he said using the convenient excuse.

That was moment Harry would never forget. Why was she crying? Was it because her boyfriend was getting the Mickey taken out of him and she didn't want to make a scene in front of Harry? Or, was she chopping onions? Or… Harry finally realized the futility of it all. He would never read a woman's mind. He could guess all night and the only way he'd know would be to ask.

But she was never alone the rest of the night. She didn't seem like she wanted to be alone either. If Ron came up to her, she called Harry over too. If Harry got to close, she'd call Ron or Ginny into the conversation. What was she playing at? Or was this one more of Sirius' explanations being played out before his eyes. He was both Cat and mouse at the same time. And, so was Hermione. Was she protecting herself with other people? Harry guessed she was.

The good thing, it seemed to Harry was that other than that one incident. She was in a good mood. Hermione and he had talked cordially and it seemed like it always had. Was this the way it had always been? Was she used to making sure that in this environment she always had someone else around when Ron or Harry approached? If so, how'd she manage at the movies? He didn't want to spoil his time with her. So every time he got down to thinking like this, he forced himself to snap out of it and live in the moment.

It was bedtime and everyone was shuffling off to their rooms.

“Good night, kids,” said Mr. Weasley. “Well, fifteen in what, twenty minutes Harry.”

“Yes, it's brilliant too. Thanks so much for having me. I can't wait until tomorrow,” said Harry.

“You have no idea, mate,” said Fred. “You'll think it's the coolest thing ever.”

“Good night, dears,” said Molly. “That includes you two as well,” she added with a motherly smile.

“Good night, Mrs. Weasley,” said Hermione.

“Yes, thank you too, Mrs. Weasley. The meal was fantastic. It was my favorite,” said Harry.

“You should thank Hermione for that,” said Molly. “She's the one who planned it.”

The word `sweetheart' burned in his brain. His chest ached with the happiness he didn't know how to express. He was so happy it hurt. That wasn't normal. “Really? Thanks loads, Hermione. That was fantastic.”

He walked over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, really.” She was shier now than she had been.

She blushed saying, “Anytime, Harry. I'll bet you didn't even know I knew your favorite meal, did you?”

“Mate, you're one lucky guy. That's all she'd talk about yesterday. She wanted to make sure that everything was perfect. I can't wait for my next one. I'm putting her in charge,” said Ron with a smile.

Harry was as close to her as he'd been all night. He took her hand and she gently pulled away with a smile. “Well, good night everyone,” she said. The heat radiated from her face as if she was truly embarrassed now. If Harry had thought about it hard, he might have said mortified at being caught caring so much about him.

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6. The Birthday Celebration

The Birthday Celebration—Chapter 6

Harry lay awake in the bed across from Ron thinking about what was going on between his best mate and Hermione. Harry had kissed her twice today and Ron hadn't bristled at all. He'd held her hand and he'd not said a word. Were Ron and Hermione together already and Ron was helping Hermione let him down easy? Were they keeping it a secret from the rest of the family so that his mother didn't watch them like a hawk?

He realized that he couldn't control any of that. He knew how he felt about Hermione and Ron was too valuable a friend to turn into a rival based on the jealous thoughts of a raving lunatic. He couldn't be happy for them at the moment if it was true. Yet, he knew there was a true bond of love and friendship there too, if it were true. He really wished he could be that kind to Ron if the roles were reversed.

Harry never realized he was asleep until he awoke the next morning. In his life, that was a miracle. No dream had forced him to lay awake in puddles of sweat. He heard the sound of happy voices down below. Ron was out of bed and curtain pulled. What time is it, he asked himself? He looked at the clock and it was after 9:30 AM. He had been fifteen for almost ten hours and was missing the day.

He rushed to get through the shower and get dressed. He tried to comb his hair and as always found it an impossible task. He went down to the kitchen where Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were sitting talking to four other girls. Harry's jaw dropped. There sat Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet—all members of Harry's Gryffindor Quidditch team. The fourth girl made Harry's stomach do flip-flops—Cho Chang. He looked at Hermione in puzzlement.

“Happy Birthday, Harry!” Each girl got up and gave Harry a hug. Harry tried desperately not to linger over Cho. This was a terrible joke. He was now facing the prospect of talking Hermione with someone present who was—well, hard for Harry to ignore. Harry sat down at the table in a daze.

“Surprised, Harry?” asked Hermione. “I invited them all the week after we left Hogwarts. Wouldn't you know that Cho decided she could make it just last week.”

“Harry, it was so hard to get over Cedric, but I knew you tried to help him so the least I could do was come to your birthday party,” said Cho.

“Seamus, Dean, Neville and Oliver Wood are coming later. We're not sure whether Parvati and Padma will come. They weren't too keen on how the Yule Ball went,” said Angelina.

“I'll say they weren't,” said Katie. “Parvati wanted you to ask her so bad she walked by you ten times a day to give you the opportunity and when you finally did, she was like out of her mind. Then you blew her off…well…”

Harry tried not to acknowledge the sheepish grin on either Cho's or Hermione's face. He just kept his head in the stack of pancakes he'd found. He was shocked again to find that they were Blueberry and his favorite. He looked at Hermione, “Your idea?”

Hermione smiled and nodded.

“Brilliant,” said Harry. “Hermione you are awesome.” He ate hoping that she took the hint that she was the one not Cho.

He knew he couldn't eat pancakes all day while he tried to figure this out. He was in real trouble now. Cho stared at him and smiled. He hated the feeling of having two girls that he liked and one being the only real choice. He didn't want to hurt Cho, but he wasn't going to let her get in the way of what he had to do to get to Hermione. His belly started to hurt.

“Harry, you don't have to make yourself sick,” said Ginny. “We know you like Hermione's Blueberry pancakes.”

Harry knew what Ron meant now. They were laughing at him being a guy and acting silly. He knew they'd all act like he was their friend if they were one-on-one but as a group, they were—to him, a giggling, gaggle of girl geese. He laughed at the thought. Even Hermione was laughing.

“Okay, okay. Why do I look like I put on a few pounds?” asked Harry trying to join in the fun.

“No, but if you get fat, none of will like you anymore,” said Angelina with a wicked smile. “Where is that Fred at anyway? I have a present for him.”

“Now, now Angelina, control yourself. This wasn't meant as an occasion to for you to come and snog with my son,” said Mrs. Weasley with a smile. The roar of laughter got louder as Angelina blushed and slipped away quietly.

“Oliver's bringing a complete set of Quidditch gear. We're not sure whether to bring out the snitch or not because it could fly into the neighboring muggle town and violate the Secrecy Act. But we think that the muggle repelling charm Mr. Weasley placed on the house and the area today will keep them from noticing,” said Hermione.

“Was this your idea too, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“Of course, it was Harry,” said Oliver as he burst through the door. “How are you, mate? It's my understanding that Granger's the one behind everything today.”

Harry had to get out of the room. He could feel every emotion his mind could handle coming to the surface all at once. He wasn't sure which would come out first. “Guys, can you excuse me for a minute.” He ran upstairs and went into Ron's room.

He sat in the chair between the beds with his head in his hands. Tears rolled down his cheeks for the first time. He realized that he'd been a fool. Hermione loved him with all her heart and he knew it now. She had selflessly planned every event to make sure that he had the best day of his life. How could he have doubted her with all the signs?

She had even invited Cho Chang, because at the beginning of the summer she had no idea of Harry's feelings for her. She did know he had a thing for Cho. She was willing to let him be happy with an opportunity to be with Cho because she had only let herself think that she and Harry were friends.

He reached into the bottom of his backpack and pulled out his letter. He realized how woefully in adequate it was. It only started to tell the story of how he felt now. He only had a day, maybe not that long, to return the kind of love she was showing him. Well, he had to get cracking and he had to do it with a plan that would develop on the fly.

“Hey, Harry, get your arse down here,” said Oliver. “Are we going to play Quidditch or what?”

Mrs. Weasley admonished Oliver for his language as Harry emerged from the stairwell dry-eyed and determined. To do exactly what next, he wasn't sure. He had one plan, but that was it. He'd have to wait until later though. It wasn't the right time.

Harry hadn't expected it but it turned out to be a practice session for the next year's team. Angelina had just found out she would be the next Quidditch captain and asked Oliver for some advice. Harry could care less whether it was a friendly game or a practice. He loved flying and it had become like second-nature to him. He used the breaks while Angelina and Oliver talked to think of what he was going to do to show his appreciation to Hermione.

This time he stopped and looked down at Hermione. She was deep in conversation with Neville and Ginny. They laughed and carried on with Neville falling backwards over his chair as he stood. Harry looked away before Hermione could spot him staring at her again. Ron soared in next to him. That was another thing too; Ron seemed to be pretty good. And, he'd also mentioned that Ginny could be really good too if given the chance, but she wasn't going to show off in front of their Mom and Dad. They still didn't know that Ron and Ginny snuck out in the mornings to fly while they slept or worked inside.

Around two-thirty they stopped for lunch. Harry landed and snuck up behind Hermione. He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he put his hands on her waist from behind and asked her to pass him a paper plate.

“Harry!” she exclaimed with all the excitement he'd hoped for in her voice. She blushed. “You scared me half to death.” She didn't push his hands away but did move closer to the serving table and grabbed him a plate. He couldn't hold her waist and not be obvious when she moved.

“Truth,” he said. “The first line was the truth.” He smiled and put a bun on his plate as he began to make the burger. He loaded his plate with macaroni salad, pickles and a little bit of jello.

She beamed back at him. “And? (A perfectly timed pregnant pause.) The rest of the story is?” she said coyly.

He had no idea what to say next. He'd surprised her and now she'd surprised him. “Don't know yet, do we?” he grinned.

She giggled.

His heart pounded.

Her face flushed as she giggled again. “Nice, I like it. That was really nice.”

He walked away just far enough look at her walk away. She was just as beautiful as he'd thought. He watched her hips and sighed.

“Hi, Harry,” intruded a girls voice. It was Cho.

“Oh, Hi, Cho,” he responded with a step back. This was a problem he knew he'd have to deal with all day. He saw Ron approach Hermione too. He helped her carry her plate to the table. Hermione looked back at him as though she were begging for help. He shrugged.

“Harry?” asked Cho.

“Oh, sorry. Ron just looked over and called me. Would you like to join me?” he asked having no idea what to do next. He loved it. He'd bring his problem over to what, he thought now, might be Hermione's problem.

“Hi, guys. Ron, you know Cho Chang, don't you?” said Harry.

While Ron smiled sheepishly at Cho and took her hand to shake it, he winked at Hermione who blushed and looked away with a smile. “Enchanted,” said Ron. Harry and Hermione laughed out loud as Cho blushed and Ron seemed unaware of the problem.

They talked as group for most of lunch. Harry did everything he could but blurt out that Hermione was the cutest girl he'd ever seen. “Man, are we lucky or what, Ron?”

“Sorry?” said Ron.

“I mean we have the coolest girlfriend in the world, don't we?” he made fun of all three of them at once referring to himself, Ron and Hermione. Hermione started to say something in her defense but laughed instead. It was as if she caught the double-meaning in Harry's joke just in time.

They all laughed at once including Cho who was actually the only one who spoke about it, “Yeah, I'll say. She's done a wonderful job planning this whole thing. I mean, I really needed a place to go this summer. Thanks, Hermione.”

“Yeah, we do. That's one way of looking at it I guess,” said Ron with a confused but playful grin.

Harry felt good. Ron felt good. Hermione felt really good and Cho wasn't getting hurt. He didn't know how it happened that way, but it did. They talked for another ten minutes or so until Hermione spoke up. “Sorry, but I have to go. Forgive me. I'll be back though.”

“Cho, do you mind talking with Ron for a few minutes I need to talk to Fred and George,” said Harry. He walked toward Fred and George and waved.

“Harry, oo-lah-lah, that Cho is hot,” said George shaking his hand in front of him as if he'd been burned.

Harry loved the twin's attitude even when they were wrong. He didn't know if he could pass off their comment the way he wanted to do, but he was going to try. It only just came to him. “Well, lucky Ron. She seems to be interest in him, doesn't she?”

“Harry, come on. Ron? Who are you kidding? I heard how he almost lost his ability to speak with Fleur last year. Cho would send him to the loony bin in St. Mungo's,” laughed Fred. “Oh, here comes Angelina. Have to work out a way to get her alone and out of sight,” he said snapping his fingers. “Eat your hearts out boys.”

Harry laughed. “What about you George, you have your eye on anyone?” asked Harry.

“Katie's cute, but I'm not keen on getting involved right now. Percy's escapades with Penelope don't give me much hope for having a girlfriend and remaining a free spirit. Look at Fred. He's after Angelina like she was in heat.”

Harry wasn't sure he liked George's analogy all that much but the substance of what he was saying was true. Fred had definitely got the taste of honey and liked being worker bee for his queen. Harry liked his better than George's. He wondered if he would act like that with Hermione.

“Everyone? Please can Hermione get your attention?” requested Mr. Weasley. “She's got a few things planned for us this afternoon that I think will be fun for everyone.”

“Hi everyone thanks for coming. I'm terribly nervous talking to you all like this so bear with me,” she turned to Harry as she finished.

“Everyone here knows that Harry is a very special person to me and Ron. What you may not know is that he's never had a proper birthday party. So, I thought that some of the games that we played as children should be reenacted today to make up for the huge mistakes made when he was growing up,” said Hermione. “They're simple and probably pretty stupid for people our age, but I've raised the bar a little and hopefully you'll get a kick out of them. Ron, yours is first.”

Harry smiled at Hermione as the red hue to her face slowly returned to pink and then to normal. He snuck over as Ron was talking and whispered, “Absolutely, wonderful you are.”

“Er, well, Harry. The first day we met you bought out the entire candy cart on the Hogwarts Express, remember?” asked Ron.

Harry was startled. His best mate was talking to him. “Yeah, Ron, it was great, wasn't it?”

“Yep, well, Hermione and I thought that we'd make a piñata and fill it with a whole bunch of stuff from Honeydukes. We'll all be blindfolded swat it with a broomstick until it explodes. Everybody up for that?”

Harry smiled like a little kid. He didn't want to sound thick, but he didn't know what to do when it broke. “So what do we do when it does?”

“Well, as kids, the parents made the kids pick up the candy one piece at time so we didn't get hurt, but Hermione I think that we're mature enough to…well…Hermione?” Ron looked over at Hermione.

“Anyone who wants candy from it will have to jump in and get it or use a summoning spell to get it. Obviously, it will be more fun if there is a mad scramble for the candy, but be careful not to hurt each other,” she said.

“The heck with that,” said Seamus. “I'm jumping in like it's a swimming pool.” His comment broke everyone into laughter.

Ron turned to Mr. Weasley. “Dad?”

Out of the tool shed in the garden, a small balloon in the shape of a stag. As it emerged Mr. Weasley said,”Engorgio.” It got larger and larger until it was the size of a really small hot air balloon.

“Is there really enough candy in there to fill it?” asked Neville eagerly.

“Yep, that's why we should be careful. There's enough for everyone,” said Hermione. “Harry, you're first.”

He started to walk up and hit it with the broomstick on the ground beneath it. “Oh, wait Harry. Did I forget to tell you that you'd be blindfolded?” giggled Hermione. “And, we can move it so that you have to try to find it.”

Harry looked at her and smiled, “You're evil. You know that don't you?”

“Devilishly, so,” she giggled in return.

Ron came up and tied an old fashioned blindfold on. “Hermione said that half the fun was trying to angle your head to see around the blindfold, so using a magical one would have made that impossible. Here you go mate.”

The broomstick was placed in his hand and suddenly he felt himself spinning.

“Oh yeah, forgot to tell you one more thing Harry. You get to do this dizzy as hell,” laughed Hermione.

Harry stumbled around until he actually fell on his knees in the grass laughing. “I will get you for this, Hermione.”

“Don't worry, we all get the same treatment,” she said sympathetically. “We just wanted to laugh at you first.”

It took twenty minutes and almost two turns each until someone hit it just right to break the piñata open. Harry made sure he was standing by Hermione when it broke open.

When it broke open she looked at him slyly and threw her hip into his trying to block him from the pile. He grabbed her by the waist and gently tried to move her out of the way, but she was having none of it. It only lasted thirty seconds or so, but they stood up with handfuls, pocketfuls, and tops filled with candy. Harry laughed at Hermione as she stood in front of him with lumps all over her shirt where she'd stuffed candy. He slapped him because at the end he started stuffing down her back. “Harry, it's your loss the candy's mine now.” She winked.

He wanted to kiss her so bad, but he was afraid that the growing excitement he felt from wrestling with her would embarrass him. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but it seemed that for the first time Ron seemed to redden a bit at their laughing. But Harry didn't feel too bad because Ron had somehow managed to be in a similar situation with Cho. He, of course, hadn't started stuffing candy down her back but she was smiling at him and sharing her candy with him.

It took a moment for Harry to register the fun that everyone had with that game. Not everyone paired off like he and Hermione but they were excited. There was every kind of candy imaginable, well every kind that had a wrapper and wouldn't pick up dirt. Seamus had gotten the Flavor Beans and found a fur-ball flavored one that grossed every one out. Oliver had gotten taffy that he loved. It was great.

Harry turned to Hermione and started to say something. She put her finger to his lips. “I want the finished letter. No excuses.” She smiled.

“Stunningly beautiful,” he said.

She smiled. “If this turns out to be a joke, I will hex you. You know that right. You're kind of cute too, you know.” She walked away with a giggle.

“Okay, next we break up into groups for pin the tail on the donkey or whatever you used to call it,” said Hermione.

Harry never got close to Hermione again. Every little event seemed to pair him and Cho while Hermione took Ron. There was: the egg carry, hide and seek which they called after five minutes because people kept using magic to not be found and kick the can with variations for broomsticks. When it came time to go to supper at four-thirty it was announced that the three-legged race and then spin-the-bottle would come later and then the presents. Harry had had enough. He was tired of seeing Hermione laughing and having fun with Ron. He didn't have anything against Ron. He just wanted to be with Hermione.

“Look, I don't get it. This isn't fun anymore. Why am I with Cho?” asked Harry.

“I don't know; why are you?” asked Hermione with a smile and no anger or malice. “I'm not trying to make you jealous either. I asked you for one thing this weekend. Your honest and completed letter is all it takes.”

“Don't tell me you would play spin-the-bottle with Ron,” said Harry.

For the first time, Hermione took offense. “What's wrong with Ron? He said something about how close you and I looked during the piñata thing and I just said we got carried away. We know it's not true. Ron cares for me and the other day at the movies I was devastated when he started talking about what it would be like if he and I were to start really seeing each other. Have you guessed where my heart is yet? I can't hurt Ron over some incomplete letter out of the blue. He may be slow, but he's not expecting me to be madly in love with him overnight either.”

Harry's expression changed from annoyance to complete shame. How had he forgotten all the things she'd done for him only because he couldn't be with her for the last few stupid games. He had just gotten a variation of the same admonishing speech she'd given Ron after the Yule Ball. He'd realized Ron deserved it then and he deserved it now. “Hermione, I'm sorry.”

“Harry, I know you finished the letter. You've been toying with me all day. It is wonderful to know that you like me. But believe it or not, there are more guys than just you and Ron who will like me in my lifetime. Just like there will be more Cho's and Ginny's for you. If you want me, you have to finish it and give it to me. I had pushed you out of my head long ago until I read that…oh, hi, Cho.” Hermione said with a smile.

“Did I interrupt anything?” asked Cho. She waited for a response. When there was none, she asked, “Will we be together for the three-legged race and spin-the-bottle, Harry?”

Harry didn't want to answer. “Can I get with you in a few minutes? But I don't think so, no.”

Cho smiled. “Yeah, you two should probably pair up for that one,” she said unapologetically.

“I hope you're getting the letter together, because if you have to team up with Neville…well, people will talk,” she smiled.

“If you know how I feel, what does the letter mean? Why is it so important?” asked Harry.

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes. “Look, I'm not answering. If you didn't want to take the challenge you should have said it was a joke and sent it to me the way it was. You took it and you've got me crying. The sun goes down at eight. Presents will be opened then. The games start at seven. Find me before then or find Cho and tell her you changed your mind.”

Harry had a little less than two and a half hours to do what he'd been trying to do for four days. He knew what he'd written was every emotion, thought or feeling he'd ever had crammed into nearly a roll of parchment. She wouldn't buy that for the answer. He had to do something. He owed it to her.

He saw Ron on the way to the house. “Girls, I don't get it,” he said.

“What are you talking about?' asked Harry thinking he really didn't have time for this right now.

“Cho asked me to pair up for the three-legged race and spin-the-bottle,” said Ron. “Why? Then like a minute later, I start to ask Hermione and she said she was busy. Then she comes back teary-eyed and tells me that she didn't know what she'd do about it. She said she might sit that one out.”

Harry had no explanation for his best mate. He realized now how cruel love was. He had two girls who liked him. Hermione had two guys who liked her. Now he understood the pressure she'd been under since his letter. He didn't feel it the same way. He knew that but the concept had been foreign to him until now. Love with your whole heart was one thing; love with the idea of just having fun and someone to talk to was another. How could he be so stupid?

“Ron, I think you should ask Cho again,” said Harry.

“Yeah, maybe. Snogging with a pretty girl isn't a bad alternative to snogging with the one you like,” grinned Ron unaware of what he might see just a couple hours from now.

“I got to go now, mate. There's something I have to do,” said Harry. He went off toward the room to face the quill and parchment one more time.

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7. The Reverse

The Reverse—Chapter 7

Harry had just heard all he needed to hear. It had been one of the most wonderful days of his life. He knew it could also be one of the most disappointing. He still wasn't sure what the letter would accomplish, but he knew that Hermione gave him enough to go on to figure it out.

His heart pounded, but somehow he knew why now. She was not going to come easy. She'd called him cute. She'd played along and, then gone back to a familiar pattern. She had gone back to the safety that Ron represented. He didn't expect her to fall madly in love with him in a short time. Hadn't Harry's letter hoped for that? He knew the night that he wrote it that it was something that could never get to Hermione. That was the reason. He didn't want it to sound that way. He couldn't waste time reasoning it out. He had to write.

Dearest Hermione,

I can't finish that letter. Every word written in it was true at the moment it was written. It is exactly how I felt at one moment in my life and still do as you will find out, but the dream faded after that. A whole new reality replaced it. I wish I had time to find funny lines or be cute, but I don't the future of my life lies in what I write to you tonight from the time we talked ten minutes ago until you finish the last word and last sentiment in this letter.

Here's what started it all:

Dear Hermione,

I just received your letter. I've never been so happy in my entire life. I want to run through the streets screaming your name at the top of my lungs.

I had a dream too. We were standing together in a garden and you looked as beautiful as ever. I couldn't take my eyes off of you. We kissed.

There is one line in it is false today as I explain it. Today is the day that I'm the happiest I've ever been in my life. Each moment with you builds a new happiest moment. And every moment right now builds a new moment of fear. It's not fear of you saying that you don't feel the same way. It's a fear of not telling you exactly how much I love you in words that touch your heart.

Hermione, I'm a simple guy. I've lived with almost nothing for most of my life. You and Ron have given me almost every hope I have ever had. It started with a kiss.

Hermione, it was when you kissed me at King's Cross that my heart opened up to a different world. It wasn't a daydream about a pretty girl from Ravenclaw. It was a real girl I had known all my life. I hadn't lived really, until I met you. Ron, well, this isn't about Ron. Fill that in later if you wish. This is about you.

This is about the bossy little witch who made my heart sing a month ago. I hated that you kissed me for about two seconds. And then, I realized my whole life was walking away from me. Why didn't I kiss you back? Every fiber of my body schemed to kiss you then. I ran back hoping just to look in your eyes to see if they were still as beautiful as I remembered. They held out hope for me; hope in friendship and in love. Well, I gathered my courage and kissed you. Okay, so it was a peck on the cheek. Afterwards I felt like I ate an entire bag of caffeinated tea. My body buzzed with excitement.

I settled down and wrote to Sirius. He told me that my friendship with you was most important and that love would come naturally if it was true. I believed him even if it sounded cliché. Your letters came and I felt so good. I was alive in mind, body and spirit. God, how could I be fifteen and feel this way. I had no frame of reference. I had never seen love between two adults. Not normal anyway, if you understand what the Dursley's are like. I only had my love for you and your letters.

Then I had a dream about you. It's like…oh my God it's coming back to me. I could only remember the kiss and being happy and the garden till now… This is the dream Hermione.

You were standing in a garden full of fresh flowers with your hair done like you had it done the night of the Yule Ball. Your eyes were wide and inviting. Your smile was beautiful. Your lips were pinkish and full. I swear I remember thinking that you would sprout wings and fly away leading me to heaven…to Nirvana.

“Hi, Harry,” you said.

“Hi, Hermione. You look spectacular,” I said feeling as if I couldn't get the words out you looked so wonderful.

“Thank you, Harry. It's very kind of you to say so,” you said softly.

“What are we doing here?” I asked.

“We're getting to know each other, of course,” you said.

“But we've known each other since we've been eleven,” I said.

“Not like we do now, Harry,” you said.

“What do you mean, Hermione?” I asked.

“Don't you feel it, Harry?” she asked.

“Oh, you mean the excitement…the love,” I surprised myself that I had nerve enough to say it.

“Exactly, Harry. It's been here all along and we didn't see it,” she said.

“What do we do, Hermione?” I asked with no idea of where to go with the feelings of love I felt.

“Just what we're doing now, Harry. We enjoy our time together,” you said.

“Will they bring food to us in the garden?” I asked to be funny.

“Who needs food when we have each other Harry?” Then you smiled and kissed me.

Hedwig woke me at that very moment with your letter. I read it and wrote what I eventually sent you by mistake. Maybe it wasn't a mistake to send it to you Hermione. Maybe it was the same fate that put us together in the first place.

I panicked Hermione. I thought for sure that you'd think it was some horrible joke. Thank goodness that that was only partially true. It was no joke. Nothing about the way I feel about you is a joke.

I need to tell you so much more than I can write. This is painful because I don't want to be seen crying over this parchment on my birthday. It's not the kind of crying that comes with self-pity or begging. It's the kind that comes when your heart fills up with so much love it forces the tears out. How do I explain that manly moment to one of the guys? (hehe).

Hermione, when I touched you today it was sweet and fulfilling to feel you stay close for just a moment. You have poured so much love into this day that I'm ashamed that all I have is this letter and you had to nearly beat me senseless to give it to you.

I'm not stupid enough or blind enough not to have realized that at our age there is a lot of life to be lived. Sirius taught me that when I asked him for help. (Long story) So I won't tell you that our love is forever and that there will never be anyone but you.

On second thought, I will say that. But I'll say it like this. If you will have me I will live like our love is forever and there will never be anyone but you. I will put every waking moment and breath into being the best friend you ever had. I will take up your causes because I believe in your goodness and out of appreciation for your love. We may not always agree (S.P.E.W.) but I will support you. Hermione, I want to be with you until the day I die. Which may happen ten minutes after your read this. (Hehe)(Heart attack claims life of 15-year old boy).

You bring out the best in me.

I love you, Hermione. For whatever that's worth, I only expect what you're willing to give.

Hugs and Kisses,

Harry

He folded it and addressed it to Hermione with a smile.

He looked at the clock.

Certainly, she couldn't be serious about finding Cho if I don't find her by seven, thought Harry. It was six-forty.

He ran down the stairs. He was starving. He grabbed a roll. Everyone looked at him.

“Have you seen, Hermione?” he asked Angelina standing with Fred.

“No, Harry. That's curious too. She wasn't at dinner. We thought she was with you from the look on Ron's face,” said Fred instead of Angelina.

He asked several more people who answered almost the same way.

“Okay, everyone. Please listen. I need to find Hermione. Does anyone know where Hermione is? It's very important,” he said as loudly as he could without screaming like a madman.

“Harry, I'm right here. Are you mad?” she said out of Ginny's window.

Laughter filled the backyard.

“Yeah, that's what the Ministry says, don't they?” he said with a smile.

“I just got an owl for Hermione. She's got to read it. The game stuff might be delayed a few minutes,” said Harry.

Hermione smiled and burst out laughing. “Be right there, Hermione.” Harry said running into the house. Ron was standing with Cho looking downtrodden near the door. He heard Ron say, “Told you.”

He didn't care. He loved her and hopefully in about thirty minutes he'd be running up and down the street screaming her name.

Suddenly—as fast as his courage had grown—he felt the anxiety of what this moment really meant to him. He knew she would love the letter for his honesty. But did she feel the same way. Was what he described what she wanted from him?

He walked in the door and closed it. He kept his hands behind his back. Hermione, I promise to explain everything after you read it. It may not be what you think. He took his hands from behind his back and handed to her. She didn't look down.

She stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “That is for being brave enough to do it. No matter what, I will never forget that.”

She looked at it for a second, cocked her head to the side, and read out loud, “Hermione, meet The Eight-hundred Pound Gorilla.”

“Please, read. I promised to explain,” he said with an anxious smile.

He sat down in the chair while she stood by the window.

A few seconds later, her hand went to her mouth.

She stepped away from the window where no one could see her.

She cried silently.

Then she started smiling, mouthing the words.

She giggled.

Harry couldn't watch. He'd seen her lips moving toward the end. This was where it all started or ended.

She looked at it again. Never once looking at Harry. She reread it.

She snatched a Kleenex out of the box about half-way the second time through.

She looked away from Harry and out the window when she finished. Her shoulders heaved. She sat on the end of the bed.

The first words out of her mouth were, “You're crazy, Harry.”

He was shocked.

“I am too, Harry. That's why I love you. That's why I made you write this. I wanted to hear what I waited a month to tell you,” she said as she handed him a letter. “Please read it.”

Dearest Harry,

A new phase of our lives is about to begin and I'm afraid that it will change everything. I know that Ron will probably ask me to be his girl this summer. But something happened tonight that made me wonder if I shouldn't hold out hope for something that I've prayed for before but given up on.

Why didn't you just let me and Ron walk off tonight?

I kissed you because I could never do it again with the feelings I have for you, if I become Ron's girlfriend.

I love you both. He is a wonderful guy, but you are…well, you are my knight in shining armor. You make me laugh, you make me cry, you make me crazy.

You will get this on your birthday. It will be my offering of love. I will not answer Ron until you have the chance to decide if I'm worth your friendship…our friendship.

All because of a kiss, Harry. A lousy, `oh-God-I-hope-nobody-saw-me-do-that' kiss. Well, it wasn't all that lousy because I did it again after you kissed me.

Forgive me to presume that you like me more than Cho or maybe even one day, Ginny. I will never forgive myself if I don't tell you. I'm losing my mind tonight.

I will always love you as my friend. No matter what happens,

Hugs and Kisses,

Hermione

Harry stood up and shivered. He tried to calm himself. What he was about to do had to be done the right way. He was afraid of sucking her face right off the front of her head, but he tried to take it slow.

“Hermione, you have no idea what's going through my mind,” said Harry.

“Oh, I do, because it's going through mine too,” said Hermione.

Knowing full well what he wanted to do, he asked her anyway. “What do we do now?”

She smiled at him. “We enjoy our time together,” she said with a smile and added. “Where have I heard this before?”

He smiled. “Will they bring us supper up here?” he asked playing it out.

“Who needs food when we have each other?” They waited to say it together.

They vaguely heard Mr. Weasley giving out the instructions for the three-legged race below.

Harry crossed to Hermione and took her hands softly. His hands shook until she took them. She ran them to his arms brushing them softly.

He put his hands to her waist and turned his head slightly. He brushed her lips with his.

She backed away just an inch. “You're sure about this?” she asked.

He did the same thing again. “Are you?” he said backing away a little.

“You're scared too, aren't you?” she asked.

“Yeah, a little,” he said. “I'm more afraid to kiss you like an octopus tentacle than anything else.”

She laughed. “Let's try this again.”

She moved in slowly and kissed his lower lip first. “How was that? It's okay, Harry. I knew that would happen and don't get all crazy on me now. You try it.”

He softly kissed her lower lip. Her mouth opened slowly inviting him to do more. He kissed her upper lip.

Slowly they repeated the process for several minutes until Hermione stepped back. “I wonder who won the race,” she giggled.

“Not us,” said Harry. “But I'm not good at that type of thing anyway,” he lied.

“Well, I'm good you stayed here to do something you're good at,” she said with smile.

He took a deep breath.

“Harry, it's rude to miss your birthday party,” she said. “We can always hope the bottle spins our way in spin-the-bottle.” She smiled.

“What happens if we have to kiss other people?” asked Harry. “I know what they're missing now.”

“Yeah, well, you ain't seen nothing yet, my friend,” she giggled and grabbed his hand pulling him out the door letting the letters fall to the floor.

When Harry and Hermione emerged from the backdoor, a familiar voice yelled at them. “It's about time there, Harry. You better be careful whose name and where you write with your quill, Harry. It's got ink in now.”

The twins burst out laughing. Oliver Wood and Mr. Weasley laughed too. “Arthur, how rude!” said Molly.

Harry looked around and realized no one had seen who said it but most of the guys had heard it except him. Barely, visible in the fading twilight was a big black dog chasing its tail. “Harry, that wasn't…” asked Hermione with a grin.

He nodded then he laughed. He finally understood the joke. It was a caution to keep things to snogging and no more. Anything else could end up making his mark on life permanent. “You didn't get what he said did you?”

She shook her head and said softly, “But if you don't tell me, you just got your last kiss from me.”

Angelina overheard Hermione and started the chant:

Harry and Hermione,

Sitting in a tree,

K-I-S-S-I-N-G,

First comes love,

Then comes marriage,

Then comes Harry,

Pushing a baby carriage.

Hermione buried her face in Harry's shoulder. She wasn't really embarrassed because they were caught. “I wanted them to find out because we kissed a little too long during Spin-the-bottle. You know, like not waiting our turn.”

Harry laughed.

As amused as most people were, Harry and Hermione looked over at Ron. They were aware of what Angelina's little ditty had probably meant to him. Somehow he would feel that the trust the three of them had was broken.

“Ron,” said Harry.

Ron's face was a mixture of sadness, understanding and anger. But he said, “Hey, guys, whatever. Just don't go in my room so I find you.” He waved his hand at them like someone who wanted to push them away. “Cho, where are you?” he said.

Harry and Hermione both felt a little ashamed. They hadn't handled that part of it very well at all. “It's my fault, Harry,” said Hermione. “We should have walked straight to

Ron and said something instead of looking for the game.”

“No way, is it anyone's fault,” he said quickly. “What do you think he was going to do then? Ask us to show him how we kiss and ooo and aww at us like it was a Quidditch match? There was no way to tell him unless we just didn't do anything between reading the letters and telling him. And unless, you're going to tell me that you were going to fight me off all the way there to do that then, it's not your fault.”

Harry and Hermione watched as Fred, George, Ron, Angelina, Katie, and Cho decided that it was a waste of time if they didn't at least give spin-the-bottle a go. Neville, Ginny, Alicia, and Dean formed another circle. “Come on Harry and Hermione, join us.”

Mrs. Weasley stopped that quickly. “Ginny, you're not getting into that game at your age.” Ginny stomped off. “Mom, I'm probably the best kisser in that group and Dean knows it.” She was so mad she'd just confessed to having kissed Dean to her mother. Things were a bit tense for a while until Mr. Weasley settled her down.

“Molly, I'm not happy about it either,” he said. “But you and I were their age and nearly got expelled for being out all night. Aren't we being a little hypocritical?”

“No, Arthur we are not? You people today sneak off to do all sorts of things you wouldn't dare mention. I'm not going to invite them over to do them under my supervision, are you?” she said angrily.

“Well, you have a point there,” he said. He shrugged. “Okay, guys let's have Harry open his presents.”

“Now that sounds like a more appropriate thing for the party at this point. I'll go get the cake. Ginny come help me with the cake,” said Mrs. Weasley. “She started to ask Hermione but took a deep breath and expelled it.”

“I'll help,” said Neville.

Mrs. Weasley was about to refuse, but said, “Sure, Neville. I need help taking the paper plates out to the table.”

Harry laughed knowing Neville would get nowhere near the cake till it had been cut and served.

Harry opened his presents. He got a cool assortment of Quidditch memorabilia since most of the people there were Quidditch team members. The gifts were all nice things that he would savor. When it came time for Hermione to give her gift, Harry wasn't sure what to expect. He had pretty much been surprised by her letter and every other thing she'd done. What more could she do for him?

She looked really nervous. Ron's expression hadn't changed much from earlier in the evening until now. He'd seemed rather resigned to the fact that his best friends were now a couple, but for some reason his face was redder than it had been. “I don't know how to say this,” she fidgeted nervously. “I have to admit, I've given Harry part of his present already. But Harry, you don't have to go back home until next Friday when the Dursleys return from their trip. That part is Dumbledore's present to you.”

Harry understood now why Ron was upset. Not only had Hermione decided on Harry, she was scheduled to stay the rest of the summer. To top it off, she had also worked out a way to keep her boyfriend under his nose for an additional four days. Ron had a right to be upset.

To make matters worse, Seamus said, “Yeah, Harry, it's a good thing Hermione wasn't wearing lipstick earlier or we could see exactly where she gave you your present.”

Harry could tell that Hermione was a surprised as he was that they weren't getting more of that from people. He realized though that most people there understood that it was a blow to Ron and weren't in the mood for aggravating all three of them. “Gee, Seamus, if you wore lipstick I'd have lip prints on my bum,” said Ron. “Grow up.”

Seamus usually was an instigator and not one to try to keep things going. He liked to say stuff and then let someone else fight over it. This time it didn't work like that. Harry doubted he did it to get a rise out of Ron, but to have a little fun with Harry and Hermione.

“Sorry, mate. I forgot that it might not be cool because…” Seamus stopped short. “Well, someone has to say it. I mean, don't they?”

“Yeah, well let it me say it then. “Congratulations, Harry and Hermione. There it's said. Now shut up,” said Ron as he walked away.

Fred looked over at the two of them. “He'll get over it,” he said and Angelina nodded.

“That was my fault for not letting you guys talk to him first,” said Angelina.

Without realizing it Ron had come back. “Aw, Bloody Hell, guys. I'm not dead and I'm not going off into the woods like an old dog to die either. How many of you knew that one day either Hermione would leave us both or one of us would be the loser for her affections?”

“Well, duh,” said George. “It was either that or she stayed single her whole life.”

“Exactly, so don't make it worse. She's my friend that I wanted to keep for myself for a very long time. I wanted it to be Harry who had to figure out how to deal with it, not me. And, I'd be lying if I said I'm not hurt or pissed about it. But Harry's my best mate and it's not like they snuck around for ages behind my back. Good thing it was now and not two years from now. So leave them alone and leave me alone about it,” said Ron. “Don't be a prat, Finnegan.”

Ron walked off again. “Just so you know, Harry. Might be a while before I want to hear this story,” he said with a sarcastic grin. “Otherwise, we're cool.”

Harry wasn't sure that was all there was to it. Six more days was a long time for a man to watch a girl he likes kiss another man while living under his roof.

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8. The Dilemma

The Dilemma—Chapter 8

Harry and Hermione went for a walk after saying good bye to some of their friends. Hermione felt worse than Harry in some ways. Hermione knew the girls on the Quidditch team from school, but only in passing until this weekend and was pleasantly surprised at how well they'd got on. Cho was staying until Sunday night when her family returned from their weekend holiday.

“Harry, I wish Ron could find a girl to take his mind off the heartache. I hope you understand why I feel so bad for him,” she said.

“I don't know if it's going to help much but Cho and he seem to enjoy talking together. I don't get it, but they do,” he looked up at the stars. “Can you conjure up something we could lay on here?” he asked.

“Harry? What for?” asked Hermione cautiously.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't tell you and thought I was saying it out loud,” Harry admitted. “I like to look at the stars when there are no bright lights to make them fade. There is usually meteor shower or two every night you know. I was just thinking we could lie down and talk. I swear that's it.” It dawned on him how it must have sounded.

“Let me see,” said Hermione taking her wand and saying, “Terra Cuberta”. It seemed as if the grass weaved itself into something similar to a thatch weave used for grass huts making the soil disappear and creating a soft place to lie down.

“Wow, nice. Where did you learn that?” he inquired with a look of wonderment.

“I didn't learn it anywhere, I just guessed that if I concentrated on it and used words I knew meant `cover the land or covered land' something good might happen,” she giggled. “Seriously, we could have ended up with a meteor shower on our heads. Just kidding.”

Harry laughed as he took her hand and guided her to the soft seemingly clean ground beneath them. He kissed her cheek quickly. “That was brilliant, whatever you did.”

Harry lay back hoping she'd join him. She did but not as close as he'd have liked. “I don't bite, you know.”

“No, maybe not, but if you want me you have to come get me,” she giggled.

“Oh, I see how it is,” he said sliding over toward her. As he did, she scooted away a little more giggling. It was only a matter of a half an arm's length but enough to prohibit feeling her next to him. He moved closer again with same result. So he lay still.

“Giving up so easy?” she asked sadly.

He tried to move as subtly as he could putting his weight on his right buttock and shoulder so he could pounce. Without warning he rolled over put his hand on the ground on the other side of her waist effectively trapping her beneath him without putting his weight on her. “Hah ha, gotcha, you little witch,” he chuckled.

“Question is: do you know what to do now that you got me?” she smiled slyly.

He lowered himself to the enchanted, thatched blanket beneath them kissing her softly. He hadn't felt a girl beneath him this way before. He moved so his left knee was just below hers and between her legs so that they were face to face and his left chest barely touched hers. This was exciting he thought. She's so cute. His heart quickened with the excitement.

“I guess maybe you do yay!” she smiled and kissed him softly. “I'm glad you didn't just jump on me this so much more fun,” she said a minute or so later as they came up for air.

Harry was glad she said that. He knew that it was a playful time in their lives and being pinned by a horny fifteen year old boy would probably take it to a much too serious level and take some of the fun out of it. He had plenty of time to touch her they way he wanted. But kissing was fun and harmless in their world at the moment.

“Well, you weren't going to tease me like that for long. I had to do something,” he said as he touched her hair watching her expression carefully,

“You know I can't make things easy for you, Harry,” she said fluttering her eyelids playfully. “Harry, this is so much fun being with you. What are we going to do about Ron? It's so unfair to him and us. If we stay it, it would be cruel to make him see us together. The alternative is making me go home to my parents and you to that horrible family.”

He leaned back a little taking the little bit of weight he had resting on her off and back on to his elbow and side. “I was thinking about that as we talked earlier. It's not something I like to think about.”

“Do we just see how things go tomorrow? I mean, what choice is there?” she asked.

“I know this may sound stupid, but the only one really is to make Ron deal with it,” said Harry. “I'm not giving you up.”

“Wow that sounds like just what I hoped to avoid. Two boys ready to fight over me. I'm not a prize Harry,” she said.

“I didn't mean it like that. Hermione, how long can a guy have a crush on someone that drives them to distraction before they realize that the window has passed for them? I'll bet if he asked you to the Yule Ball and it went well things would be different—way different,” said Harry.

“I prefer to think that you would have been woken up sooner to our feelings for each other,” said Hermione. “Have you ever noticed that someone in love or with a crush is more attractive to everyone not just their partner than one who isn't?”

“Yeah, that's why I ran back to kiss you. I wanted to make Ron jealous,” he said. “I've had a thing for him for years.” He kept a straight face.

“Oh, Harry that's gross,” she said laughing. “But it would explain the little love squabbles you guys have all the time.” She poked fun at him right back.

“He didn't notice his feelings for me until he saw me with Viktor,” she said with more excitement than Harry thought should have been in her voice.

“So, you did fancy Viktor more than you let on,” he said enviously. “I'll bet you kissed him too, didn't you?”

“Would you have kissed Cho, if she went with you to the Yule Ball?” asked Hermione. “Don't ask me to answer you first, because the answers to both of them are the same.”

“But I'm not talking about Cho like it meant something to me either,” he said regretting his tone even as he spoke.

“Harry, we've been together three hours, maybe four and you're making an issue about a date I had and a going-no-where friendship with a guy who lives thousands of miles away?” she asked. “Please don't act like that, it's silly.”

“I'm sorry, but you are hard to figure out. You liked Ron on the surface of things and me in a forbidden love sort of way, then dated the third guy because he asked you. Then you kissed him. When Ron got jealous, you told him to get up the courage to express how he felt or at least ask you to the dance. Six months later, you kiss me as that unrequited love thing surfaces. Then prepared to become Ron's girlfriend, but we end up confessing our love for one another and now you're my girlfriend. Forgive me if at this moment, you don't drive me a little crazy. Because now my heart leaps with joy every time I think of you and you just said something about a guy I know kissed you like you relived it.” He felt better but he wasn't sure he'd made sense.

“Oh, and it's like I'm supposed to be the one who runs around to every guy who might like me and go. If you like me, ask me out or I'll find someone else who will ask me,” she giggled. “If you don't know, girls are fickle because we have to be or we'd never find a guy with the courage to admit they want more than a quick feel and a kiss.”

Harry thought for a second. “What?”

“Oh, never mind Harry. You are the one I would have like to have kissed the first time, if you want to know the truth. Problem is you were agog over Cho, so you missed the boat,” she said. “But I had fun at the dance and I did like Viktor for showing me how much fun it is to be found attractive. You can be jealous of him or continue to be the way you were today--which was ten times more exciting to be with than he ever was.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared skyward.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked. “I don't want that.”

“Harry, it's hard enough to be happy without boy troubles, don't make it even harder. I love you, it should be clear by now,” she said and after a few seconds she rolled atop him and sat on his stomach and pinned his wrists to just to the ground near his ears. He'd had them behind his head until he saw her jump him, but he was too slow. She was too quick and her weight caught him off guard. “And, yes I'm so mad at you that I want you to kiss me and make forget how mad I am.”

“How am I supposed to do that from here?” he said as tried to crane his neck to kiss her with his hands pinned like they were. She teased him by almost getting close enough with her lips purse and then dodged out of the way giggling.

“I don't know. You found a way to finish that letter. This is just another challenge you'll have to over come,” said Hermione kissing his forehead as he gave in to the strain and laid his head back down. When he tried to return it she sat up again and giggled. “So?”

Harry fought with all his might until he realized the error of his ways. He straightened his arms out parallel to with his shoulders. She had to either hold on or let go. Either way she was getting the same as she gave him, he thought.

She fell lightly to his chest giggling. He felt her soft chest on his. Her face just inches away. He decided being pinned this way wasn't so bad. He kissed her softly. “I'm sorry.”

Her weight and the warmth of her body on his excited him and felt rewarding without the desire to move at all.

“Don't be sorry. I have no control over who likes me or doesn't Harry. And, in this position, I definitely get the feeling you like me.” She blushed and so did he. “But I do have control over my happiness. I decided to take a chance on being happy with you and losing everything else. Don't you realize that?” she said. “You chose too and I think we're both glad.”

“You don't see how wonderful you are, do you? I don't mean just cute and sexy. I mean that the way you treat people is so attractive that it makes people notice you. When they get to know you guys have no choice but to fall in love with you. It means that it's not jealousy so much as a slight bit of uncertainty if I'm good enough for you,” he said.

“Well, if that's your worry don't. It will drive you crazy. We're both kind of blessed that way. I feel the same way about you. I know that someone would snap you up in a heartbeat if I don't take care of you and it's good that you respect that it's true about me too. We won't take each other for granted that way,” said Hermione. “That's what I think happened to Ron. He just started feeling like he had time, because I never went out with anyone but you and him. I needed to know so I could move on. I don't think I was really going to say yes to him anyway. I would have had to have really been in love with him to drive a wedge between you and me.”

“Did you say that to make me jealous tonight?” he asked.

“Regrettably, yes. But I could do worse than Ron and you know it. I didn't want you to fall into that trap, because I'm not stupid enough to think that we could keep our love alive like this forever without something making us admit it. It would have fallen into the same thing that happened between me and Ron. Love is a nurtured feeling; it can grow stagnant,” she said.

“Do girls get a romance manual for their birthdays' at fourteen? Or, do you just get one that tells you how to break hearts?” laughed Harry.

“Oh, boys get the one on breaking hearts too Harry, don't kid yourself? And, girls just spend more time thinking about relationships instead of sneaking peeks at the lingerie sections of catalogues and playing Quidditch,” she giggled.

“Ooh, I'd better be quiet and make sure I burn my catalogues,” he snickered.

“Hah ha, don't you think you're funny?” she teased.

Eventually they found a way to hold each other that was comfortable and let them talk in between snogging sessions. That even died down as the excitement left them both deep in thought.

“Harry, do guys always think with their…you-know-what…instead their brain?” she giggled.

At first Harry was afraid that his excitement had scared her. But he realized that she hadn't acted like that at all and figured she must be talking about something else. “Please explain, that's kind of a hard question to answer.”

“I mean didn't it seem sort of funny to you that Ron spent so much time with Cho even before he knew about our feelings for each other?” she asked.

“Oh, you mean like,” he laughed. “I'm sorry George said something today that makes more sense now. I won't repeat it because I found it rude. To be honest, we do. If a girl shows interest we tend to return it like we have no control over ourselves. Is that what you mean?”

“Yeah, I didn't get the feeling he was ditching me or he liked her more than me, but I really didn't care either. The thing is I feel a little confused that he could be so attracted to someone when he said he wanted me,” she said. “Before you think I'm being fickle again, it's just that it gave me an idea.”

“What if we make it seem like we both are kind of uneasy about them being so buddy-buddy today?” she asked.

“What would that do, Hermione? I don't get it,” said Harry

“If you liked someone and found out it drove your ex-, me for the sake of argument, batty wouldn't you play it up? And for Cho's part, if she likes you and sees that maybe you don't like seeing her with another guy, I think she'd do the same thing to see if we were really serious, don't you?” asked Hermione.

“I get you. Plant the seed that they looked awfully cozy. Ron might realize he has a chance with a pretty girl,” said Harry.

“We need to be careful not so sound too interested. We don't want to seem like we'd break up over it. That's not what I mean. I mean if you thought I were going with Ron, wouldn't you have liked to have someone like Cho around to make you feel better?” asked Hermione. “Think of what I was doing when I invited her. If you didn't really have feelings for me, but might have been uncomfortable about Ron and me, I wanted you to have someone you liked to distract you so you didn't feel so bad. I always wanted you to be happy.”

“Yeah but what if I'd have taken her hand from the first moment she made eyes at me and took her off to snog?” he asked.

“I would have gone off, cried, and hid from everyone until I figured out how to hex you so your dingus fell off or until I calmed down—which ever came first.” She giggled. “When I felt like I could compose myself, I would have told Ron what great guy he was and apologized for being so cruel making him wait for my decision,” said Hermione. “Thank goodness that didn't happen. Because I would be in Ginny's room crying right now that I wasn't with you.”

“As pretty as Cho is and as much as I really had a crush on her, you are the prettiest, smartest and best friend,” said Harry. “There was no way that was happening and I wanted to make that clear.”

“I thought you might be sick eating so many pancakes,” she giggled with a little emotion being choked back. “That's so sweet of you to say.”

“The problem I have with the plan is that it took four years of knowing you for him to get the nerve up to hold your hand,” said Harry.

“Oh, and you were worse, smarty pants. If I hadn't lost control at your cute smile you'd be off kissing Cho now,” said Hermione with a smile. “Don't think I'm making fun of you, because I know you knew Ron liked me and you were a good friend not to get in the way. That's what I meant when I said I thought we were friends only because he and I were. You were always more of a gentleman; I just don't want you running around breaking your arm patting yourself on the back about how much better you were at getting my affections than he was. All you had to do was smile.” She kissed him.

Harry knew he'd just been put in his place, but very nicely. He'd been a wimp about approaching her, but she didn't say it that way.

“But, he does need some inspiration and I think I know how,” said Hermione.

They were going to find them and make a little innocent scene about how uncomfortable they were about the way Ron and Cho had gotten so close all of a sudden. Hermione explained that that would be the only time that it might seem a little awkward. If they could sound realistic, the two of them would at least wonder what they'd done and talk about it.

“They might even think we came up with this as plan to get together with them,” said Hermione. “We can't let that happen. We have to get away quick so they don't have access to us until they talk it out. You see what I mean?”

“It sounds pretty iffy to me,” said Harry. “I'm not sure Ron's feelings for you were that shallow.”

“I know, but we both know that Cho likes you but hasn't had a real reason to think of you as more than a friend. That's in our favor, since technically she might still be interested in finding out if you might still be available. Unlike guys, girls don't think guys fall in love with someone forever. We know you're not always looking for Miss Right; you're usually looking for Miss Right Now.”

“And believe me, there's a big difference. I don't know what kind of kisser Ron is, but if they get there and he's any good at all, most girls will sort of melt in a guy's arms if the guy doesn't act like the Giant Squid. I'm living proof with you,” she smiled. “Hey the alternative is giving up and waiting for him to get pissed off enough to send me home anyway.”

“What happens if he does that anyway to get revenge?” asked Harry.

“Oh, don't worry. He'll here it from me plenty if our plan works. He'll here how I knew he'd be unfaithful anyway and he just proved it,” she said. “The guilt there will stop him, but she will be there to comfort him. If it's not working we just have to go home.”

“What time is it Harry?” asked Hermione.

It was almost midnight. “Midnight,” he said.

“Okay, let's just stir the waters. You go back to his room and tell him Cho's looking for him and I'll tell Cho that I wish she'd go talk to you for me because I feel so bad for him. I'll tell her not to tell you because you'd be furious,” schemed Hermione.

“What happens if this backfires?” asked Harry.

“We change our names to Romeo and Juliet and poison each other, of course,” she said giggling. “What's the worst that can happen Harry? They have a nice conversation, hate us and we see each other again in a month. If it works, we get to snog and goof off together for almost a week.”

“Good point,” said Harry. “Maybe this will mean Ron will forgive us before we are as old as Professor Dumbledore.”

“Yeah, isn't that right?” she snickered. “Okay, let's try it. They should be awake.”

Harry was prepared for the worst. He knew he needed to act a little indignant about Cho looking for him. Ron had to think it was irritating. He'd grab a pillow and a blanket from the room and say he'd sleep on the sofa in the living room.

Harry cleared his throat so Ron knew he was coming. “I need to get a pillow and a blanket to go sleep on the sofa, I'll be out of your hair in a second,” said Harry. Then a brilliant thought popped in his head. “Cho was looking for you. You can't be too broken up about Hermione and me if you're sneaking off to snog a girl in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, yeah right. Just get the stuff and go,” said Ron less hostilely than his sneer would have indicated. “Where was she?”

“Downstairs, genius. Do you think I came from upstairs?” said Harry trying to be as irritated by it as he could.

“Piss off, Harry. She's a good kisser you know. Probably better than Hermione anyway,” he said. “You can have her. You know what? If you're just going to go to sleep just sleep here and shut up. I'll be back later after you've gone to sleep. That way I know you and Hermione aren't sneaking off in my house either.”

“Oh, nice. You're so worried about us snogging that you'll chase after my leftovers,” said Harry not having to feign his annoyance now.

“Leftovers. She said she only came because she felt sorry for you. So, any kiss you got was a sympathy kiss. So, eat your heart out. Wouldn't Hermione be pissed to hear you going on about Cho,” said Ron with an arrogant smile.

Harry really didn't care about what Cho had said, but he was annoyed that he had to play along with their plan to help him with Cho when he acted like that. It took a second, but he realized the plan just might work and that it was so-far-so-good, even if it didn't feel good at the moment. He was glad for the bed though. The sofa was lumpy.

Twenty minutes later, he heard Hermione outside the door. “Psst, Harry, Har-ry!” she whispered as loudly as she could without waking anyone. “They're talking out at the table. Come to the door.”

Harry opened the door and pulled out his invisibility cloak. “Sh. Keep this around your shoulders and pull it over your head if he comes back.”

“How do I get out?” she asked.

“I'll get up to go to the loo, you sneak out with it on behind me when I open the door,” he said.

“So, what were they saying?” asked Harry.

“Cho was actually kind of sweet. She confided that she thought Ron was sweet, so I told her the plan. She's going to help us Harry,” said Hermione.

“Oh, that sucks Hermione,” said Harry. “What if he finds out she's just playing along to another game and she really doesn't like him.”

“Harry, I'm not sure that will be a problem. I think she really wants a nice laid back guy for a good friend. She's tired of all the false ones who bug her and she thinks Ron is cute in all his shyness. They're not ready to get a room together yet, but she doesn't think he's a creep either.” Hermione smiled. “Maybe there's someone out there looking out for all of us Harry.”

“That would be nice. I don't want to go back to that house alone when I know I could be here with you,” said Harry.

“Harry, I love you, but I don't want to get caught here. That could spoil things,” she kissed him and let him open the door pretending to go to the loo. She dropped the cloak when they were sure was clear and ran up to Ginny's room. Harry picked up the cloak and carried it to the loo and back quickly to maintain the charade. He sighed in relief and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Harry got up to find Hermione sitting in the kitchen with Cho. They both smiled almost sadly at him. He didn't know how to react. He just went and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek and said good morning to both of them. He grabbed a glass of orange juice and went outside. He didn't feel like sitting with the two of them together. Hermione followed.

“What's wrong Harry?” she asked. “Cho's fine. We're not like best friends sharing notes or anything.” She paused. “Well, we are a bit about Ron. He left this morning with his Dad to go to the Ministry and then Hogwarts.”

“It's something else, isn't it then?” asked Harry. He felt uneasy about something. The two of them didn't look like two girls about to run off and snog the new guys in their lives.

“Well, only half of our plan worked, Harry. They're going to spend time this summer getting to know each other. She'll come here some and he'll meet her there some. We were just talking though and it seems Ron is going to go with his Dad to see if Dumbledore will change his mind and make you come to Hogwarts for the rest of the week and send me home,” she said with tears growing in her eyes.

“You have to be kidding me?” said Harry.

“She said he'd already talked to his Dad before she and Ron talked last night. He and Mr. Weasley agreed it would best for everyone,” said Hermione. “I'm so sad Harry.” She did cry like it was the end of the world but it was sad and her eyes were far from dry.

His eyes misted as well. He was both angry and sad. He was angry that Ron was going to Dumbledore rather than to him and his Dad together. If Dumbledore made a decision against Harry there was no changing it. But if Harry had had the opportunity to plead with Mr. Weasley, it might not have happened this way. There was no way, Harry would be sent home to Privet Drive alone this way and he knew it. Maybe Hermione could make excuses to come to Hogwarts. And, then he realized there was no way Professor Dumbledore would allow two sweethearts access to Gryffindor Tower without all the other children and all the teachers there to keep them honest.

“When will we know?” asked Harry.

“It shouldn't be too long. Cho says that they left early and it's not that far with an adult wizard guiding the way. They don't need to use the Hogwarts Express to get there. He is Dad could get there and back through the Floo within a few hours,” said Hermione.

“Hermione, let's just go somewhere. I mean let's go somewhere where we can have fun today. Maybe even for the rest of the week,” said Harry.

“How do we get out of here though?” asked Hermione. “Money?”

“How far is town?” he asked. “I can change money at Gringott's we can get there before anyone realizes we're gone for more than the afternoon and start looking.”

“Not far really,” answered Hermione with a little more energy.

“Well, that's good enough. We can fool around there. Maybe we'll find the bus to London or something and go to Gringott's then. “If we have to we can run away. I don't want to be without you this week. I can't take it. When they find us, fine, I'll go. But they'll have to find us. Heck, we could fly off on the broom when it gets dark even. You could come back and I'll sneak back to get you. I don't care, but I'm going to spend more than one day with the girl I love.”

She threw her arms around him. “You know you're the only guy in the world I'd do this with, don't you?”

“I hope so. I might get kicked out of school for flying on the broom without proper permission, but I don't care. Let's get out of here,” said Harry.

Hermione went to Ginny's room and nonchalantly took whatever she could get in her purse that could possibly help them. Ginny seemed disinterested so she grabbed her backpack too and packed it. “What are you doing?” asked Ginny.

“Well, it's obvious, isn't it?” asked Hermione feigning tears. “Ron's gotten your father to send me home and they're gone to get Dumbledore to make Harry leave too. So I'm packing,” she said.

“That git. I was afraid he'd try to get revenge like that,” said Ginny. “I'm sorry.”

“I'll just be downstairs,” she said as she hauled everything down.

Mrs. Weasley was busy doing other things and was generally pretty disgusted with both of them over the incident so she said `hi' very curtly and kept working.

Harry was outside with the broom wrapped in the invisibility cloak and his backpack on his back. Hermione had put hers on too. “You know what Harry. I don't care. I love you. If we have to stay hidden for a few days, so what, right?” she said in an obvious effort to convince herself.

“That's right,” said Harry.

They set off across the large meadow toward Ottery St. Catchpole holding hands--just happy to be together.

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9. The Runaway Sweethearts

The Runaway Sweethearts—Chapter 9

Harry couldn't believe how lucky they were. Ottery St. Catchpole was just sleepy enough that no one noticed them. The bus for London left at noon and arrived in London at two o'clock. Gringott's was open every day when the shops in Diagon Alley were so by three they had money, both muggle and galleons enough to hideout at least until the end of the week. They decided that they'd find a place to hide until nightfall. The first place that made sense was The Leaky Cauldron. Why they picked the most obvious place to find a wizard was exactly the reason they did pick it. No one would look for them there. Excuses were easy since they could say they were waiting for someone and they could eat dinner there.

It became obvious as the evening got darker though that Hermione was nervous. And, he knew it was about several things. First, she loved Hogwarts and doing something like this could get them both in big trouble. Second, she loved Harry he was sure. But she wasn't ready to have rumors spread that they were anymore than sweethearts. Not to mention what would happen if her parents got wind of their fifteen-year-old, almost sixteen-year-old daughter running off with a classmate who was her boyfriend. Third, he was a guy and she probably didn't enjoy the prospect of shacking up with someone who might get funny ideas. He hoped she knew him better than that, but he could see it as a real concern. You never know anyone until you were as close as they were now.

“Sweetheart, I have to take you back to the Weasley's. There is too much at stake for you here,” he said lovingly.

“Harry, I know you care about me. I also know you probably have a good idea that I am here because I have this crazy notion that I can be rebellious. You also probably have guessed that I'm having second thoughts. But, I am not going back tonight. Let people talk Harry, especially Ron. Now, I don't care what he thinks. It's personal now. He could have talked to us or at least had his father talk to us before going behind our backs,” she said.

“Hermione, listen. I can sneak out of Hogwarts anytime with the map. We can go get that out of my stuff from Privet Drive tonight. We can stay there where you can stay in a private room without fear of being in a hotel with a guy. Then we go back tomorrow and face the music. I'll come see you at your house. I love you, Hermione. If that's the best we can do then that's what we'll do. But I'm not getting you in trouble if I can help it. I'll tell them you were duped into thinking that it was just jaunt to Diagon Alley and back. I'll tell them whatever to get you out of it,” he said.

“They're not going to kick us out of school, Harry. We haven't done magic and we aren't stealing. So, I'll just face the music with you,” she said. “But I like the idea about getting the map. We might be able to pull off meeting for a few hours every once in a while this week if you can get away. And, your Aunt and Uncle don't care what you do as long as it isn't you-know-what,” she said giggling. “I could get my parents to take me to where you live just to say `hi'.”

“I think we were just so sad about the prospect of saying good-bye that we didn't think straight,” said Harry. “Not that spending every moment with you is a crazy thought, but running away from home and worrying the Weasleys sick is not what they deserve.”

“You know how mad Ron makes me though. He was making plans with a girl to see her while he had already schemed enough to get us kicked out because it's painful too watch us is a load of whatever. We need to get really steamy in front of Ron you know,” she laughed. “But I'm afraid I'd end up getting too excited that…. Well…probably not, but maybe…but…who knows. Just kidding Harry. Please understand I'm kidding.”

“Hmm,” said Harry looking at her with raised eyebrows smiling suggestively.

“On second thought,” she said blushing and grinning.

“Well, we could do what you just said without going overboard. We could both go get some beach clothes show up late tomorrow afternoon like we were tanning at the beach. Our giggling and laughing out of nervousness will play up our newfound love just enough I think. I mean let him think we were clutching each other on the sand with almost nothing on,” he said. “He'd get an eyeful before we left so he had to live with that for the summer.”

“You know the beach and doing that for real sounds so cool, Harry.” She blushed but didn't say anything about it being a joke. “It's like the old saying `In for a penny, in for a dollar.' That's an American saying I heard once. Don't know if we have an equivalent or not. But if we're going to get in trouble for leaving today, might as well take all day tomorrow and get yelled at for all of it. Why go back early just to get yelled at earlier?” she reasoned.

Harry's mind reeled at the thought of seeing her in a bathing suit and touching her bare skin without having to sneak to do it. He laughed at the pervert thought turned him into. “You know the beach thing turned me into this big pervert thinking of you in a bathing suit,” said Harry.

“Yeah, well, you'll be wearing either Speedos or a pair of regular trunks. So, it had better be worth the risk if you ask me to wear anything but a one piece, Mr. I-Wanna-See-You-Almost-Naked. Two can play that game. I'll bet I get more looks than you do too. And if you ever talk about being a pervert again, I'll kick you so hard your voice will sound like a first year's again.” She teased. “And, some hunky lifeguard might sweep me of my feet, so consider that too.”

“Yeah, and he'll end up looking like a block of limburger cheese with legs once I transfigure the git,” said Harry with a smile.

They laughed.

They left The Leaky Cauldron and found a place dark enough off of Charing Cross Road to take off from without being seen. Harry did a quick lift-off and landing to make sure they were safe on the broom. Hermione felt okay with so he headed off hiding in the clouds and shadows as best they could. Harry knew where they could land that no one would notice. It was the top of one of the buildings, surrounded by a church cemetery and mausoleum. He figured people didn't go near cemeteries at night nor did they look at them if they could help it.

It took twenty minutes to walk and five more to make sure the house was empty with no one they could see watching it. Harry slipped in the key he retrieved from under the mat near the back door. The door opened and they went inside.

Harry was so glad that his Aunt and Uncle had extended their holiday until the end of the week. At least he could get the map now. And he could use it to look around the castle in between sneaking out to see Hermione and sitting around bored off his rocker.

Hermione looked around amazed at the almost hospital-like cleanliness of the kitchen and living room. “Harry, we can't stay here. Your Aunt would know if a bug had spent the night,” she giggled.

“You can sleep in my room and I'll sleep in Dudley's room. Stay away from the windows though and don't turn on the lights. We can use my wand and sit in my room and talk for a while,” he explained. He was glad he'd cleaned up his mess during the past weeks. He was thankful for the daydreams of Hermione coming here and being disgusted with the mess in his room.

“We'll have to get up before the sun comes up so we can fly out without being seen. So we need to get to sleep early,” he said quietly.

“Harry, why are you so quiet no one's here. I understand the lights, but the whispering?” she inquired.

Harry laughed out loud for the first time. “I'm so used to having to be quiet in this house I rarely talk out loud. I whisper to Hedwig even.”

“That's so sad, Harry,” said Hermione. “I just get so angry when I think of them being so mean to you.”

“Yeah, well, they're not the kind of people you'd want to call friends even if they were nice to me,” said Harry shaking his head.

They sat up joking and laughing. They played exploding snap and snogged. For Harry, he wondered if it ever got any better than this. His favorite person in the world was in his bedroom laughing like a madwoman unafraid to kiss him or pinch him in feigned anger. It had been a long time since Harry wished a moment in time could be stopped to enjoy forever, but this was one. “Hermione, don't forget this night—ever. This is special to me spending time with you. No pressure. No one to annoy us. And, pure fun.”

Hermione smiled; then scooted on the floor from her position across from him to sit next to him leaning against the wall under the window. “Harry, if we can bottle this and sell it, no one would ever be sad again.” She put her head on his shoulder and they just sat quietly for quite some time and until they realized they might as well sleep.

Morning came much quicker than they anticipated. Neither of them had moved far. The comforter had come off the bed and so had a pillow. When Harry's alarm went off at four o'clock they were both surprised. Harry hurried to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and washed face. When he got back he roused Hermione again. “Hermione, we have about thirty minutes to get out of here and get back before the sun is up. I think we can fly back without being seen,” he said softly.

“Sure, where to though? Not the beach right? That was funny, but I think we should just go back,” she said. “I'm sorry Harry. I don't think you should get in any trouble. What if my parents are told I ran off with a boy? They'll never trust us and that would really be sad.”

Harry smiled. “That's why we're good for each other Hermione. We look out for each other. I thought about that too. We'll go back,” he said brushing her hair out of her face. “I've already washed up. So the bathroom's all yours.”

Not too long later a still groggy Harry lifted off toward the Burrow. He had been foolish, he thought. It was a hasty decision to do what they did, but it made him smile. “This girl loves me enough to at least try to do something to keep us together. We'll survive. I've done it before and knowing she's here for me. It'll be easier than ever,” he said to himself under his breath.

He felt Hermione holding him tight as she could while carrying both backpacks with her cheek against his back. Harry saw the Burrow from a distance and the sun was just on the horizon from the altitude they flew at. They'd make it. Maybe they could even get into the house and pretend they came back late the night before, but he doubted it. They landed softly in the meadow behind the house. He took the backpack from Hermione. They walked back the same way they left—hand in hand.

Nothing could have prepared them for the case of nerves they got when Professor Dumbledore and Arthur Apparated into the kitchen as they came in the door. They never knew how they could have timed it so perfectly. Mrs. Weasley came into the kitchen, “Oh my word, you're alright. Harry Potter you just about scared us all to death. We thought. Well never mind.”

Ron came running down the stairs. “Mate, you scared everyone. Ginny's been crying all night.”

Harry looked at Hermione. Something was going on that he didn't understand. Ginny descended the stairs with tears in her eyes. Professor Dumbledore spoke next. “Arthur, would you please ask Ron and Ginny to go back to their rooms? The three of us need to talk with Harry and Hermione together. And, then the two of you can decide what we should do.”

“Ron, Ginny. Please give us a few moments,” said Arthur. The children went back up the stairs.

“First, we must remind you Harry that you are not safe now that Lord Voldemort is back. Because the Ministry doesn't believe us, you have to be even more careful. They will not protect you as Arthur and Molly would,” said Professor Dumbledore in a kindly but very firm voice. He looked toward Molly and Arthur.

“Harry, for reasons I cannot explain now, you must trust me when I say that my alternatives for ensuring your safety are limited to making you stay with your Aunt and Uncle—with an occasional stay here. Do not make me regret letting you leave number 4, Privet Drive. This family, particularly Arthur and Molly, have taken you in as their own. Hermione you are like Ginny's older sister and are loved no matter how disappointed people may seem.”

“Having said that; we must confess it has been a very long time since we experienced the powerful emotions associated with young love. Arthur and Ron came to me yesterday explaining what has happened this weekend. I understand that Miss Chang told you (Dumbledore turned to Arthur.) of their intentions as they were when they left the house. She could not have known what the outcome would be,” said Dumbledore. “Please explain that to them Arthur.”

“Harry, I feel responsible for the misunderstanding. I left Cho with only Ron's understanding of the situation and not my intentions. I normally don't tell sixteen-year-olds what I'm going to do about a family issue. I love my son, Harry. Don't assume that I don't care very deeply for you and Hermione as well. But my son needed a friend as well as a parent yesterday morning and his brothers are not always the kindest to him in those situations. I told him that I would do what was right, but that we should sit down and discuss it. We left to go sit and have a man-to-man talk in my office in the Ministry where we would not be bothered. I'm sorry if I'm giving too much detail but it is important for you to understand.”

“Hermione, we have always known Ron has had a very hard time telling you his feelings for you. If he had not, we wouldn't have had this problem. You two would have resolved it long ago. He loves you, but maybe he is not as relationship-ready as you and Harry. I listened to him for a long time. He was and is heartbroken. For his benefit, I thought I would support him and take his wishes to Professor Dumbledore. Not because I had any wish to hurt you two. To the contrary, I thought that it would make reconciliation among you easier if you didn't have a confrontation that became more hurtful.” Arthur put his hands on each of their knees as Harry and Hermione sat side by side.

Professor Dumbledore continued. “I quite agreed. And, we made plans for you to stay here until today since we had not planned for you to go so soon. We were willing to give you the rest of today to see each other. Then something quite amazing happened. They returned to find you missing with no one the wiser to what was going on.”

“Yes, Harry,” said Molly. “Ron and Cho sat waiting for her father to come via Floo to pick her up and they were talking about where you might have gotten off to. Professor Dumbledore and Arthur were already searching. The conversation turned to Cho's feelings for you, Ron and Hermione. She was telling Ron how lucky she was to be included as their friend at the party and how much she needed that to get over Cedric.”

“She told Ron how Hermione had come to her and told her that you two were willing to do whatever was necessary to keep your friendship except give up your relationship. She explained the plan for Cho to help him realize he was a great guy since neither of you would be able to tell him yourselves for obvious reasons. They knew that you would be angry and wanted to avoid the very confrontation we feared this week.”

“It became tearful and Ron told Cho that he didn't want to be a liar or untrue in any way. He admitted that he was upset and was using her to get back at his friends, but that he really did like her. You two did something nice for those two kids. They decided that they would still get together and be friends, but would write more often than see each other. You allowed them to get their hurt out. I didn't get involved at all. They were the ones who said that you two might have been afraid of being separated and may have run away together. Ron came to me and told me no matter how upset he was he couldn't let you guys get hurt by keeping it to himself.”

“Harry, you have a family here. It is as if one brother has paired off against the other, but your friendship is stronger. Ron knows that; he hurts a lot still don't let him fool you. He said that if you two came back, he would be okay if you stayed the week,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Arthur and I are not so sure. But only because we must make sure that you are not so desperate for each other that you would do something that we have no power to stop. We have some experience with making rash decisions as young sweethearts ourselves.”

Professor Dumbledore looked at him carefully. “I trust these two fine people to decide what to do. I have a place for you at Hogwarts for the week, but you must go back to your Aunt's home when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley decide it is best. Talk with them honestly and let them decide. You have not had much parenting, I'm afraid; and, you must trust me that the Weasleys have the best interests of each of you at heart. I must go, there is a meeting of the Wizengamot today. I may not lead it much longer. Things are difficult Harry. Do not, I repeat, do not get out of sight of the Burrow again, Harry, unless you have permission from Arthur or Molly. You must listen to me on that.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Harry.

“Yes, thank you Professor,” chimed Hermione as Professor Dumbledore walked to the Floo and announced “Hogwarts.”

For the next forty-five minutes, Arthur and Molly asked them about their feelings for one another. They listened carefully and laughed about the letters. Molly cried when she understood about how much Hermione really cared about Ron. She was surprised that Harry didn't want to be Ron's rival, but felt he had no choice in matters of the heart but to follow his and hope that their friendship would withstand it.

“It's very early and you must still be tired. Go off to bed. I'm sure Ron wants to talk to you both too,” said Arthur. “We'll talk here for a bit and let you know at lunch of our decision.”

Hermione went into Ginny's room to get some rest. It was still very early. Ginny had fallen back to sleep. “Harry, talk to Ron. I'm still his friend, but your friendship with him is what matters most.”

“Are you okay?” asked Harry. “What do you think they will decide?”

“Harry, it's fifty-fifty. We told them the truth and shared what we could about the letters without lying,” said Hermione. “They'll do what's right, just like my parents do.”

Harry had never once been in a family situation where his motives, feelings and desires counted for anything. He wished he knew how this worked. He'd always decided what to do. He heard a voice from downstairs that surprised him. It was Sirius. His heart jumped. At first he thought it might be a bad thing because of the animosity between Molly and him for reasons he didn't understand but knew were there.

“Molly and Arthur, I'm his godfather. I reserve the right to try to parent him the best that I can. But I know that you, Molly, and Arthur have done a splendid job with your children. I just ask you to consider one thing. Harry wants to do the right thing too. He is a mature young man in many ways, but he needs discipline that comes from love not anger or from a man who has been in prison and is out of touch with reality. I say all of that to remind you four more days of happiness, not just with Hermione, but from your family will help this boy more than you will ever know. Consider that.”

“Sirius, Molly and I understand and appreciate you coming here. And that, mate, is something we may not have considered as much as we should. Thank you,” said Arthur.

“Sirius, I disagree with your brashness, but not with your love for Harry. But I can tell you that your point may be the biggest consideration of all,” said Molly. “But I won't promise right now.”

Harry hung his head and walked off as Sirius said good-bye. He looked out the hall window just in time to see a dog running off.

When Harry arrived in Ron's room, the sun was just beginning to cast a shadow instead of blazing directly against the wall. Ron sat in his chair next to his desk with his hand on his chin barely awake. “Oh hey, mate,” said Ron. “Ginny and I snuck down and listened. Bit embarrassing, some of it was, but it's true.” He had a handprint on his face from sleeping and his voice was still husky.

“Still mad?” asked Harry. “I wouldn't blame you.”

“Well, I'm not ready to sit and listen to you describe what it's like to snog her in detail, but I can accept that she doesn't want me as a boyfriend. I more pissed that she picked a git like you,” he said with a little irritation. “And, you heard my Mom, tell you I give a shit so I might just let off a little steam and expect you to take it. Just know that I meant what I said to her too. You two are too important to let you get hurt or for me to be a baby about it.”

“Ron, I swear, if there were any way that I knew before the day we got off the train how I felt…I'd have said something. Even if I'd have told you to get off your arse because I would if you didn't,” said Harry.

“Mate, it's your story you have to live with it. Even if I think you're full of it. You wanted her. Just admit it. It's easier for me if you do. I can understand a guy looking at a girl and wanting to snog her. But I can't understand a guy saying he cares about the other guy who likes her. Not the way you want me to see it. But I do think the hardest part was that you knew it might change all of us forever.”

“A big part of it was my fault. Don't be offended if I don't ask you to go with someone I like without Hermione around. You'll never know another girl I like as well as I do again.

I wasn't really worried about you as a rival. And now that I look at it, I should have known that as sweet as Hermione is. This was possible. I said that Saturday night too I think but I only half-believed then.”

I should have seen the signs: you never really took either side when we squabbled about stuff. I know why now. It wasn't worth our friendship. You could have easily used that against me and you didn't.”

Ron's face was hard to read. He didn't smile or look up. “So, if you will just promise not to be like some of the losers snogging in every room that we take the Mickey out of when we see them at school, I can live with it. Remember Ginny's not all that cracked up about it either. But she was more worried like I was at first that some Death Eaters had taken Hermione and you. That's when I realized that you guys are one of the most important people in my life, no matter what I couldn't let anything happen to you. I couldn't stand thinking of the last words we had being ones of anger—toward you or her. That is the only reason I'm not angry enough to curse you to hell and back.”

“Ron, I can promise that we'll be respectful. And, I hope you know that Hermione and I really did want some one nice like Cho to show interest in you so you know that you deserve a nice girl. That was Hermione's idea, but I agreed completely. She's pretty and all that but it seems that she loved Cedric and is a good person. That's what we hoped you would see. I look forward to the day you find a girl who's good for you, mate,” said Harry. “Otherwise, you're a git too for lying about snogging her.”

“Yeah, we could have been a right foul git and taken advantage because she is really lonely and sad. We did get a good snog in after we talked Saturday night. We're only friends though. At least going to see her will give me and Hermione something to do when you are back on Privet Drive,' said Ron.

“I'm beat, Ron. I need to get some rest,” said Harry.

“Yeah, me too. Oh, one thing. I wouldn't use your tooth brush,” said Ron.

“What?” asked Harry.

Ron motioned with his hand showing Harry where he'd rubbed it. “I kind of rubbed it on by crotch and here and here on Saturday night.”

“Oh, you flaming *%###$@, I'll kick your *@$%@,” said Harry as he chased Ron and punched him until they both were laughing. “You mean like on your jeans right,” he asked as moved his mouth like he ate a fur ball flavored bean.

“Yeah, I wouldn't put your nasty tooth brush anywhere near my privates for real, you nasty, foul woman stealing arsehole,” laughed Ron.

Harry laughed and lay down in bed thinking Ron would get his later. But he would wait until the end of the week. “Later, mate. See yah at lunch.”

“Piss off, Potter,” said Ron with a smile. “I'm not saying too much that's nice to you for a while. So get used to it. But I'm going to kill Hermione with sarcastic sweetness. You two deserve at least that much aggravation.”

“If that's as bad as it gets…don't think we won't get our revenge somehow though, mate. Remember, there are still images you don't want to remember,” said Harry thinking of Hermione's and his conversation the night before.

“Yeah, well bring it on. Be careful though, Hogwarts and her parents' house can be reached in just a few hours,” nodded Ron. “Sleep on that, Potter.” He raised his eyebrows still nodding smugly.

Harry considered answering but instead ran different scenarios over in his mind's eye. A good-bye kiss with a little emphasis on the hand positioning will fix you, thought Harry as realized that all those thoughts were talk and not much more. Losing Ron's friendship wasn't worth making a scene or making Hermione uncomfortable. She'd proven her love by following him against her better judgment and he'd never forget that. And, his best mate proved once again that Ron just might be a better man than him in the way he was handling it. He thought of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and what a good job they'd done with their son.

Harry turned and looked over at Ron. His best mates eyes were closed but the streaks of tears still showed. Harry would never mention it. There was nothing in the world besides Veritaserum that would ever let him acknowledge to Ron that he saw those tears.

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