Author's Note
Hello everyone - long time, no see, I know, and I'm so sorry!
However, I am so very happy to say that, for the time being, things have "quietened down" with my dad - *Janie does happy dance* - although "dark and difficult times … lie ahead". We'll deal with that later, though and enjoy the reprieve. I really want to thank you all so much again for your thoughts and prayers, I was truly touched and it meant a lot.
Now somehow, whilst writing the last chapter…it turned into the second last chapter…I hope you don't mind…
And of course, my ongoing gratitude to my favourite "Queen of the Commas" - the wonderful Kirsti! Hugs dear! xoxo
REUNION
By JanieB
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Morning of the Day Before (the Yule Ball)
Despite having gone to bed late the previous night, the occupants of the Burrow woke at a reasonable hour to be greeted by a crisp, clear Friday morning. It was probably a good thing they were up early, since the following day was Christmas Eve - and the night of the Yule Ball - and there was much to be done that day. By some, at any rate…
During that day, Bill and Fleur returned to the Burrow, their twin daughters having been left in the loving care of Fleur's mother in Paris until Christmas morning when the doting parents were planning on returning there to be with their daughters as soon as the present-opening ritual was over at the Burrow. The brand-new parents, Charlie and Cordelia, were the only Weasleys not able to attend the ritual family dinner that year, although they did promise to "pop in" on Christmas morning to show off their new son. Percy and Penelope had owled to say they'd be there in time for the dinner that evening.
After breakfast, Fleur Flooed to the Lovegoods' as Luna had asked for her help with some hairstyle charms, which Luna had very little experience with, while Fleur excelled at them. The men were sitting around leisurely, reading, playing Wizard's Chess or braving Fred and George's latest game acquisition, Jumanji.
`Trouble is,' explained Fred to Harry, `if Muggles get hold of it, you get chaos! You need magic to control the proceedings.' Having said that, he rolled the dice; as a herd of angry rhinos charged towards them from the other side of the room, he waved his wand nonchalantly causing the running beasts to stop in midair, shrink down to toy size and fall to the floor with a spattering of tiny thuds.
`Accio rhinos!' commanded George, bringing dozens of tiny rhinos speeding through the air towards him. He caught them and deposited them in a small container as he announced grandly: `Twenty points to me!' He smiled indulgently at the now tiny rhinos running around in their container, looking up at him with fierce, threatening miniscule eyes…
Neville dropped in during his morning tea break and was brought up to date with a summary of what he'd missed on the previous night as well as receiving an invitation to dinner that evening which he declined sadly, explaining he and his grandmother always visited his parents on this night. He promised he'd see them all at the Ball the following evening.
Molly, Ginny and Hermione disappeared into the upper regions of the house, running between bedrooms as they chose dresses and shoes, discussed makeup and looked at jewellery while chatting about various aspects of the coming evening…
`Mum, there's no way we're going by Portkey! It will ruin my hair - all the girls' hair!' complained Ginny as she examined her reflection in the long mirror in her mother's bedroom.
`Well I'm sure I don't know how else we can get there, dear; Flooing is even worse,' retorted Molly, using her wand to do up the myriad tiny buttons on the back of an old dress of hers that Hermione was trying on. Since Fleur had brought her dress with her (`and would look good in a potato sack, anyway!' remarked Ginny a little enviously), it was only the two Weasley women and Hermione who had yet to decide on their outfits.
`Do you know what Luna's wearing?' Ginny asked Hermione as she turned this way and that in front of the mirror, looking critically at her reflection.
Hermione shook her head, wondering how she could tell Mrs Weasley that she would never wear this dress, without hurting her feelings.
Ginny saved the day. `Mum, there's no way Hermione can wear that - it looks terrible! It's not her at all - and grey is all wrong for Hermione!'
`Silver, actually,' said Molly, while Hermione tried not to look as though she agreed with Ginny one hundred and ten percent. She was relieved when Mrs Weasley sighed and waved her wand, releasing Hermione from the confines of the old dress.
`I did actually bring a dress with me,' said Hermione tentatively, `but I'm not sure whether it really suits me. It was one of those impulse buys.'
`Where is it?' cried Ginny excitedly.
`I'll go get it - it's up in my room,' said Hermione, pulling a short, light, silk dressing-gown on for the short trip to her room on the next floor up. After she'd left, Ginny went back to frowning at her reflection.
`Ginny, dear, it looks perfect,' remarked her mother over her shoulder. `What's wrong?'
Turning sideways to the mirror, Ginny patted her tummy as she grinned mischievously at her mother. `I don't look too fat?' she asked innocently.
`What? Fat? You? What are you talking about, dear, you've never -'
As she finished putting away the dress Hermione had been trying on, she turned back to look at her daughter again. On seeing the expression on her face, Molly gasped, then squealed before running to hug her daughter.
`You're not! Are you? You are? You are!'
Ginny nodded, beaming, happy tears springing to her eyes as she hugged her mother.
`Oh, Ginny, sweetheart! How wonderful! How truly wonderful!'
`I know! Dean's so happy - we're both so happy! We almost can't believe we're actually going to have a baby!'
`What a perfect Christmas present!' sighed Molly. `Are you going to tell everyone?'
`For now, just the family and of course Harry and Hermione. We're going to go to Dean's mum and dad's tomorrow afternoon and we'll tell them then, before we bring them back here to leave for the ball with us.'
`Have you told your father yet?'
Ginny shook her head, still smiling. `We'll announce it to everyone else at dinner tonight. We want to surprise everyone, but I just had to tell you!'
As Hermione pulled open the wardrobe door in her room on the floor above, she heard someone coming up the stairs. The heavy footfalls told her it was one of the men. She absentmindedly wondered which of them it was as she pushed some clothes hangers along the rail, looking for the dress she'd bought, finding it at the end.
`Hermione?'
Hermione span around, the hanger holding her dress hooked on one finger.
`Harry?'
Harry waggled his eyebrows suggestively, grinning as he said mischievously, `Is that what you're wearing to the ball?'
Looking down, Hermione felt herself blushing, realising there wasn't much of her legs not on display.
`Harry!'
Looking only slightly contrite, Harry crossed the room, taking the dress from her hand and holding it up. `I meant this, of course,' he said, grinning at her.
Hermione gave his arm a playful swipe, her cheeks still pink. `You did not!' she retorted, feeling breathless as though she'd run up five flights of stairs, not just one.
Harry swung his free arm around behind Hermione, wrapping it around her waist as he pulled her to him; Hermione had to grip his shoulders to steady herself.
Gazing directly into her eyes, his expression now serious, Harry said gruffly, `You're right, I didn't. I've never seen you like this before, Hermione and it's - well, it's doing things to me.'
Hermione couldn't speak; it was one thing to have finally acknowledged their feelings for each other and to have shared some very wonderful kisses in the last few days, but this was something a little more serious, a little more intimate and a lot more…physical.
Then suddenly words weren't important, because Harry was kissing her and nothing else mattered - the contrast of his masculine hardness against her softness, the electrifying feeling of his lips on hers...
As their lips parted, Hermione was aware of the sound of her own pulse thrumming in her ears - fast and erratic.
Harry's startling green eyes were a mere two inches from her own, and even through his glasses, his look of hungry desire was clearly apparent.
`Harry…' her voice was a mere whisper.
Harry drew a shuddering breath before he spoke, his voice deep and husky with emotion, his eyes holding hers prisoner.
`You'd better take this,' he said as he held out the dress to her, loosening his hold on her and stepping back a little, `and go, before I -'
Hermione felt a sudden wave of unaccustomed desire sweep through her, making her feel uncharacteristically reckless. She dropped the dress to the ground and flung her arms around Harry's neck, her lips almost touching his as she whispered, `Before you what, Harry?'
Then somehow she was caught up in Harry's arms, everything else forgotten as he groaned, his voice barely audible, `Sweet Mother of Merlin, Hermione, I'm only human…'
Then there were no words, only a wonderful cascade of sensuous sensations as they kissed…
`Hermione? Hermione!' It was Ginny, sounding slightly shocked and highly amused at the same time.
Hermione broke the kiss, pulling away and frantically trying to disengage herself from Harry's arms.
`So what's this? A little hanky-panky as our Ron would say?' asked Ginny with an extremely mischievous grin in place.
Harry had his back to the door and although he was still gripping her waist, Hermione leant to one side to see past him, knowing her face was a mask of embarrassment and wishing the floor would open up and swallow her.
`Ginny,' she said shakily, very aware of Harry taking deep, uneven breaths in an attempt to steady himself. It didn't help that he was gazing at her with a deadly mixture of desire, love and ironic amusement at the untimely interruption.
`Sorry to interrupt, you two,' said Ginny cheekily, grinning, `but you should come and try your dress on, you know, Hermione. It's getting on for lunchtime and you'll have to go soon.'
`She'll be right down,' said Harry, the deep timbre of his voice doing things to Hermione she didn't want to dwell on right at that moment. Who would have thought it was possible for the mere sound of a man's voice to have this effect!
Ginny laughed, assuring them both she wouldn't expect Hermione for at least another five minutes before she retreated back to her mother's bedroom.
Hermione stepped back so that Harry had to release his grasp on her waist before she bent and picked up the dress, holding it in front of her.
`Oh, that helps,' said Harry laconically, crossing his arms as he eyed the dress, `imagining you in that -' he couldn't finish, giving his head a shake as he gazed at her.
Hermione felt colour rise in her cheeks once more. Then, with a gleam in her eye, she said, `And what are you wearing?'
`Nothing special,' said Harry, with a shrug, `just the usual tuxedo and robes.'
`Nothing special? We'll see,' she said over her shoulder as she walked past Harry, heading once more for Molly's bedroom; she was certain he'd look very special in his "usual tuxedo and robes".
Harry's eyes followed her, devouring the sight of her long, lean legs, until he could see her no more, wondering what would've happened if Ginny hadn't interrupted…
When Hermione returned to Molly's room with her dress, she wondered at the excited happiness Ginny and Molly were both exuding, but since they said nothing she decided not to pry, a little embarrassed it may involve what Ginny had just witnessed between herself and Harry.
When she'd put the dress on, both Ginny and her mother rolled their eyes at Hermione, admonishing her for not bringing it out in the first place.
`It's perfect, Hermione! That was an excellent impulse buy!' said Molly approvingly.
`I actually picked it up at a sale in Paris. So you think - you think it's suitable?' asked Hermione shyly.
`You mean do I think Harry will like it?' asked Ginny airily, ignoring Hermione's blushing countenance. `Harry will drool, believe me, Hermione - and he won't be the only wizard to do so!' This enthusiastic comment only served to make Hermione blush even more…
When the three women made their way back downstairs a little later, happy with their choices and decisions for the following night, it was to have the men begin wondering aloud whether it was nearly lunch time and commenting on how hungry they were.
`What? You couldn't possibly be hungry again yet, you lot! What am I, anyway, that seeing me makes you think of food? A cauldron of soup?' sputtered Molly.
Hermione was glad of the distraction of laughing at Molly's comment as she was only too aware of Harry's very intent gaze on her as they crossed from the stairs to the kitchen - a rather unnerving state of affairs.
As Molly began the preparations for lunch, Ginny and Hermione started setting the table.
`What time are you leaving for your parents'?' asked Ginny.
`I was just about to ask the same thing,' said Harry from the doorway.
Hermione almost fumbled the plates she was carrying, cursing silently at her sudden descent into schoolgirl reactions.
Just then the clashing of the clock-Hagrid's cymbals announced midday. With Harry gazing at her, his eyebrows raised, waiting for her reply, Hermione found it difficult to think clearly.
`Didn't you say about twelve, dear?' asked Molly kindly.
Hermione nodded gratefully. Ye gods! I don't think I've felt this foolish since Viktor asked me to the Yule Ball! Anyone would think I was a smitten little first or second year - I'm not used to feeling like this! She chanced a quick look in Harry's direction; he was leaning nonchalantly in the doorway, arms crossed with a half smile in place. Looking very…come on, you can say it Hermione…he looks sexy. Very sexy. Incredibly sexy. I wonder what he'd say if he knew what I was thinking right now? Harry's eyes were darkened with emotion, watching her very intently - and not trying to hide it, either.
`Are you ready?' asked Harry as Hermione laid out the last of the plates.
Not trusting her voice, Hermione smiled and nodded.
`Off you go then!' said Molly, making shooing motions with her hands. `You don't want to be late!'
Ginny put her arm around Hermione's shoulders and squeezed, whispering, `Have a nice time! And relax, for heaven's sake! He's not going to eat you!'
Smiling gratefully at her friend, Hermione decided she was acting a little like a love-struck teenager; she took a deep breath and lifted her chin, smiling at Harry as she walked towards him. This was Harry after all, her Harry…nothing to be nervous about…
`I'll just get my scarf and I'll be right down,' she told him.
The Afternoon of the Day Before (the Yule Ball)
Five minutes later, as Harry and Hermione stepped out of the fireplace into the Grangers' living room, the first thing they noticed was a note on the coffee table in front of them.
`I wonder where mum and dad are?' murmured Hermione as she bent to pick it up.
Harry stood behind her, his hands clasped behind his back, bent over so that he could rest his chin on her shoulder, his eyes scanning the note as Hermione read it out. Hermione wasn't sure how she managed to focus on the note given Harry's proximity - she was excruciatingly aware of him…
Dear Hermione, (she read, her voice a little unsteady)
So sorry we aren't here to greet you and Harry. Uncle Will (`my father's brother,' explained Hermione) was taken ill this morning and we've gone to visit him in hospital. Don't worry, Hermione - when Aunty Barb rang from the hospital this morning, she said he was in good spirits and they were doing some tests to get to the bottom of it. Visiting hours end at one thirty so we'll be home by two to have lunch with you both - we're really looking forward to it! Sorry it's so late - I have left a cake on the kitchen table in case you're hungry - help yourselves.
Love,
Mum & Dad
Harry straightened as Hermione turned to him. `I hope he's all right,' she said, her expression anxious.
`I'm sure he will be,' said Harry, putting his hands on her shoulders and squeezing gently. `In the meantime, we have some time to ourselves…time alone.'
Hermione's eyes widened and she felt warmth flood her cheeks. She quickly looked down at her hands; she was still holding the note and she began to fidget with it, suddenly finding herself unable to either speak or meet Harry's gaze.
What's the matter with me today? she thought vexedly. You'd truly think I was some gauche little fourth year on her first date!
Harry's voice broke in on her thoughts. `Hermione?'
She felt Harry's warm fingers under her chin, and unable to resist their gentle but insistent pressure, Hermione slowly raised her head. As her heartbeat echoed loudly in her ears, she met his gaze, a soft gasp escaping her at the myriad emotions she found contained in those beloved green eyes.
`You all right?' Harry asked softly.
Hermione now found herself rather distracted by the feel of Harry's fingers as they moved to gently brush her hair away from her face. Then they created further havoc as they traced the delicate lines of her cheekbone before moving to cup the back of her neck. Harry's other hand was now firmly around her waist and as he pulled her to him, the note fluttered, unheeded, to the floor as Hermione reached up to carefully remove his glasses. She then dropped them on the table before lifting her arms and wrapping them tightly around his neck.
`Hermione, I can't see properly -' began Harry.
`They'll just get in the way and you don't need to see, Harry, as long as you can feel…'
Harry groaned. `Hermione, you are all right, aren't you?' he managed thickly.
`Never better,' she murmured just before his lips claimed hers.
Later in the Afternoon of the Day Before (the Yule Ball)
Harry and Hermione arrived back at the Burrow at half past four that afternoon to find Molly, Ginny and Fleur busy in the kitchen preparing dinner and all the men in the small living room listening to "Quidditch Quips" on the wireless, a weekly programme that discussed anything remotely connected to the sport of Quidditch.
`Harry, Hermione! How are your parents, dear?' asked Arthur as they stepped out of the fireplace onto the hearth, their hands tightly clasped. `Are they coming to the ball?'
`They're really well, thanks, Mr Weasley,' said Hermione.
`But they're not coming to the ball, sadly,' added Harry. `They said they wouldn't feel comfortable at such a large, formal gathering, especially when they wouldn't be able to sit with Hermione.'
`Pity, such a pity!' exclaimed Arthur. `But I suppose it would be rather daunting for them. We'll have to make sure there are some photos. And why wouldn't you be able to sit with them, Hermione?' he finished.
Harry and Hermione were still standing on the hearth holding hands as Arthur spoke.
Harry whipped out an envelope from his shirt pocket, flourishing it with a rueful smile.
`That reminds me,' said Arthur, `you've a letter Hermione, there on the stand near the door. Came by owl about an hour ago.'
Curious, Hermione let go of Harry's hand and made her way to the stand where she could see a cream-coloured envelope.
Harry continued, `We received this from the Minister while we were at the Grangers'. Basically, it's our instructions disguised as an official request.' Harry rolled his eyes expressively and Ron jumped to his feet to take the letter from Harry, wondering what the Ministry had come up with for them now.
`By the way, Hermione's Uncle Will is doing well, too,' added Harry, drawing puzzled looks from everyone. Hermione looked up from reading what was plainly a Christmas card, and explained what had happened, finishing with, `And it turned out to be his appendix! He had an operation to remove it this afternoon.'
Arthur sat up straight, his eyes lighting up with excitement. `An operation! Doesn't that involve stitching?'
Molly appeared in the kitchen door, hands on hips, glaring at her husband.
`Arthur Weasley, that's enough! Muggle medicine is for Muggles, not us! Stitches, indeed!' She sniffed her disapproval. `Stitches are for sewing up clothes, not people! Didn't work for you as I recall,' she finished tartly.
`Didn't hurt to try and talking about it doesn't hurt either, dear,' he said placidly, winking at Harry who, along with Hermione, were trying valiantly to suppress smiles at Molly's indignant outburst.
`Hermione, dear, would you like to come and help in the kitchen?' Molly asked sweetly, ignoring her husband's gentle admonition.
`And leave all these silly wizards to their wireless and Quidditch,' said Harry, grinning at Hermione and making her giggle. `Who's that from, by the way?' he asked, indicating the card she was still holding.
Hermione quickly put the card in her pocket, looking slightly flustered. `An old friend from Paris,' she said quickly. `Of course I'll help,' she said, turning to follow Molly back into the kitchen. Harry stood, his hands in his pockets, and watched her walk away, suddenly extremely curious about Hermione's "old friend in Paris". A he or a she? he wondered.
`Now if that isn't a lovesick look, I don't know what is!' said George, rolling his eyes as he jabbed his finger in Harry's direction.
Harry grinned and gave a small, self-deprecating shrug.
`I know just how you feel, mate,' sympathised Bill looking up from the chess board; he was playing a game with Dean.
`Me too,' grinned Dean.
`Yeah, shut up George!' said Ron, who was beginning to feel a little lovesick himself lately.
`Your turn will come, oh brother of mine,' said Fred, waggling his finger exaggeratedly at his twin.
`Shut it the lot of you! I can't hear the radio!' grumbled Arthur, frowning in frustration when he realised the laughter his words had generated would prevent him hearing the radio for even longer.
In the kitchen, Hermione was helping Ginny peel spuds - her wand twirling in a rather complicated but pretty way, one potato after another rising into the air and dropping its skin.
`You didn't even grow up doing this and you're a natural!' complained Ginny, her potato tottering uncertainly in the air above the bowl as the peel painstakingly unwound itself. `I definitely haven't inherited Mum's cooking magic.'
Hermione laughed. `I picked this little charm up from a lovely man I met in Paris.'
Ginny's wand froze in mid-twirl.
`A lovely man? In Paris? What's that all about?'
Hermione laughed again. `Well, I have been on a few dates while I've been at Beauxbatons, although mainly in the last couple of the years. The first few years were - well, they just weren't -' Hermione shook her head and shrugged, unable to find the right words. `Actually, I don't really want to think about that right now,' she said.
`What? Those first few years or the dates?'
`Ginny! You're incorrigible!'
`I know,' said Ginny with a smug grin. `Fred and George reckon that's my middle name! Now come on, Hermione, this is me, Ginny! You can tell me a little, please!' she wheedled.
Sending her last perfectly peeled potato into the large pot of cold water beside them, Hermione gave a groan of resignation and put her wand down.
`Only because it's you!' said Hermione, pulling the cream-coloured envelope from her pocket and holding it out. `He's actually sent me a Christmas card.'
They were so engrossed in their conversation, neither of them noticed Harry appear in the doorway, watching curiously as Ginny let her half-peeled potato drop back into the bowl before taking the proffered card. Her eyebrows lifted as she read. `Mmm… "To my beautiful Hermione, with love from Henri." Does Harry know about Henri?' asked Ginny, passing the card back to Hermione then placing her elbows on the table and putting her chin in her hands, looking expectantly at her friend.
No, he doesn't! Not yet! thought Harry to himself. But I will certainly find out, he resolved, moving away quickly before he could be seen.
Hermione sighed, casting a quick glance at Molly and Fleur, standing at the cooker making parsley sauce and a rich gravy, deep in their own conversation.
`A few men asked me out,' began Hermione, rolling her eyes when Ginny muttered, `I'm not surprised!', `but I was never interested. I was too busy with working on the counter-curse and besides…'
`Besides?' prompted Ginny when Hermione fell silent, lost in a momentary reverie.
Colour rose in Hermione's cheeks. `Well, there was Harry, although I wasn't sure about anything, but I still, well, he was on my mind.'
`So which one made you cave in? Was it this Henri?'
Resting her arms on the table, Hermione leant a little closer to Ginny and nodded.
`He has black hair and green eyes, although he doesn't wear glasses and his English is atrocious,' she said, her eyes glinting mischievously.
Ginny laughed. `Did he ever know he was a substitute Harry?'
Hermione shook her head. `No, at least I don't think so. He realised who I was and he did ask me once if he reminded me of Harry because he knew he had similar colouring, but by then I knew him well enough to know he was really nothing like Harry. And his hair was tidy.'
Both girls giggled. `And he knew a great potato-peeling charm!' chortled Ginny.
`He's a chef!' retorted Hermione.
`Cordon bleu? Yummy!' exclaimed Ginny.
`Definitely delicious!' gasped Hermione.
The girls' laughter had grown to such proportions that Molly and Fleur could no longer ignore it and turned from their pots to find out what the reason was for their mirth.
`It's nothing,' explained Ginny, waving her hands at her mother and sister-in-law, `we're just laughing at our potatoes!'
Molly and Fleur both rolled their eyes and went back to their pots and discussion. Hermione and Ginny sat with their heads close together, resuming their own conversation.
`So, did you, you know, sleep with French Harry?'
`Ginny!' hissed Hermione, aghast.
`What?' whispered Ginny.
`You can't seriously ask me that!'
`Yes, I can! So, did you or didn't you?'
Hermione blushed. `No!' she said vehemently.
`Pity,' said Ginny, `I'll bet he'd have been a great lover.'
`Ginny Weasley!' gasped Hermione, forgetting for the moment that Ginny was married. `I can't believe you said that!'
`What? I'm married for Merlin's sake Hermione!'
`I know that,' retorted Hermione, `I guess I'm not used to talking about this with anyone - I don't have a sister and while I was growing up, my two best friends were boys!'
`What about your mum?' asked Ginny, looking surprised.
`Oh, she explained everything of course, and we used to talk about having boyfriends and so on,' said Hermione, `but I haven't really been home in the last five years, so…' her voice trailed off. Pursing her lips in thought, Hermione stared at Ginny for a second, then continued. `Actually, I did sort of want to - well, you know - with Henri - he was…pretty sexy,' Hermione blushed again.
`But?' asked Ginny.
Hermione sighed.
`Harry,' said Ginny simply.
Hermione nodded. `Silly of me, I know.'
Ginny shook her head. `Not at all,' she said firmly. `I went out with a lot of boys before Dean - well between going out with Dean I should say!' - both girls laughed - `but I never slept with any of them.'
`Harry?' asked Hermione, suddenly wondering about that time, all those years ago, when Harry was with Ginny.
`I was only fifteen at the time!' said Ginny, her tone amused. `And not exactly what Ron would call a scarlet woman even though I did have a few different boyfriends.' Ginny sighed. `Harry was a truly wonderful kisser, though.'
`Still is,' said Hermione, smiling.
Ginny laughed. `So's Dean - one of the reasons I went out with him again!'
`Enough gossiping, you two!' Molly called out. `I hope those potatoes are done!'
Hermione pulled Ginny's still half-full bowl of potatoes towards her and picked up her wand again.
`Nearly finished, Mrs Weasley,' said Hermione as she and Ginny shared conspiratorial smiles.
The Evening of the Day Before (the Yule Ball)
As the little clock-dwelling Hagrid strode out to enthusiastically signal seven o'clock that evening, Percy and Penelope stepped out of the living room fireplace; they arrived only minutes after Luna, who had been quickly claimed by Ron.
`Dinner's ready!' cried Molly ten minutes later, `everyone sit down!'
No one needed any further urging, and after a minute or so of scraping chairs, rustling clothes, soft chinking of glasses and the silvery clatter of cutlery, Arthur, who had remained standing at the head of the table, raised his glass and waited until the noise subsided.
`Dad's usual Christmas speech,' Fred whispered to Harry, seated to his left.
Clearing his throat, Arthur smiled happily around the table.
`It's a shame Charlie and Cordelia can't be here with us this evening, although they have a very good excuse! Here's to baby Sam!'
A toast was drunk to the newest Weasley.
`Well, another year has passed -' good-natured groans were heard all around the table as Arthur spoke.
`Dad starts every Christmas speech with that line!' sighed George. He was sitting at the opposite end of the table to his father and spoke to Hermione, sitting on his right.
`- and what a year it's been!' said Arthur, ignoring the interruption.
`Dad, the food's going cold!' called out Ron, sitting opposite Hermione.
`Don't be impatient, Ronald!' scolded Molly. `And of course the food won't go cold - we put keep-warm charms on everything!'
Arthur chortled. `All right, you lot! I just want to say it's wonderful to have everyone here - especially Harry and Hermione because it means all is right with our family again. We have this delicious dinner cooked for us tonight by my dear wife, Molly - here's to the cook!'
`To the cook!' everyone chorused before drinking, Molly accepting the toast with a beaming face.
`And the assistant cooks!' called out Ginny; she was seated on her father's left.
`Of course, the assistant cooks!' repeated Arthur. `And finally, to our family, to each and every one of you - may this Christmas be our best yet!'
`Hear, hear!' resounded around the table.
`Hooray, we can eat!' said Ron with feeling as he put his glass back on the table.
Luna, sitting beside Ron, whispered to him, `You're very lucky to have such a lovely and large family, you know.'
Ron looked down at her and smiled. `I know,' he said simply, `and you fit in perfectly.'
With a misty smile, Luna said, `Thank you, Ronald. So do you. Now, when were you thinking of going back to Ireland?'
Ron's fork stopped halfway to his mouth and he gaped at Luna. Putting his fork down with a clunk, he frowned. `I haven't even thought about Ireland once since I arrived.' He sounded puzzled.
Percy, sitting on the other side of Luna, raised his eyebrows and shook his head, catching his wife's eye across the table; she'd been listening and was also smiling, amused by Ron's comment.
`More important things on your mind, I imagine,' said Luna. `You know, with the counter-curse and such. I'm looking forward to the ball tomorrow evening.'
`I suppose,' said Ron. `And I'm glad you're coming to the ball with me.'
`Me, too. You're going to look so handsome!' Luna gazed at him, her expression dreamy.
`But not as beautiful as you will!'
`Of course not, after ze beautiful 'airstyle Luna 'as chosen,' said Fleur who was sitting the other side of Percy.
Ron and Luna both laughed with delight and across the table, Harry and Hermione glanced over at them.
`They're getting on very well, aren't they?' commented Harry.
`It makes me really happy to see him happy,' said Hermione, smiling indulgently at the couple across from them.
`Bet he's not as happy as me,' said Harry, dropping his head and gazing at her over his glasses.
`Or me,' Hermione said, leaning over to kiss Harry on the cheek.
`Was that supposed to be a kiss?' asked Harry.
`That's the kind of kiss you get in public, Mr Potter,' Hermione said archly.
`Then I can't wait till we're in private again, Miss Granger,' whispered Harry into her ear, causing Hermione to shiver before giving him a look that made him glad he was sitting down...
`Oy, no whispering allowed at the table,' said George, poking Hermione in her side and making her laugh.
Despite the conversations and chatter continuing unabated, the food still managed to disappear and when the last roast potato had been speared (by Ron) and the last of the carrots scooped up (by Percy), Dean stood and called for everyone's attention.
`Not another bloody speech!' groaned Ron. `You're holding up the pudding!'
Dean grinned at his school friend and brother-in-law, then turned and took Ginny's hand, helping her to her feet before putting his arm around her shoulders.
`We have an announcement to make,' he said proudly; across from him, Molly's eyes were already filling with happy tears as she gazed at her only daughter. `Ginny and I are going to be parents!'
There was a surge of cheers and cries of congratulations and it was a good fifteen minutes before everyone had hugged everyone else, all the men had given each other good-natured thumps (except Percy, who was more of a hand-shaker than a back-thumper) and seats were resumed once more as glasses were refilled. (`Just pumpkin juice for you now, little sister!' cried Fred.)
Once dessert was eaten, Harry stood up and walked around the table to speak quietly with Molly, whose eyes widened as she nodded.
Standing up, she said, `Harry and I are going to clean up,' and pulling her wand from her apron pocket, she gave a well-practised swish and all the dishes rose from the table and headed for the kitchen, followed by herself and Harry.
They returned not more than a minute later, Molly looking very pleased, Harry behind her with a large tea tray bobbing gently beside him.
`You finished already?' asked Ginny, incredulously.
Molly nodded as she and Harry took their seats. `Harry's rather a whiz at cleaning up,' was all she'd say before offering tea and coffee to everyone. Hermione smiled warmly at Harry as he sat down. `That was nice of you,' she said quietly.
`Actually, I was being selfish,' said Harry with a half smile. `I`d rather have you sitting here with me than off in the kitchen helping to clean up, which is what you'd do, I know.'
Half an hour later saw Molly insisting on clearing away the tea things herself. Nearly everyone was yawning contentedly as they began saying goodnight before retiring, Percy and Penelope Flooing home and Ron announcing he'd see Luna home.
`Pretty transparent excuse,' Fred remarked to George as they walked up the stairs, `considering she's Flooing straight into her own living room. What's to see home?'
`You're just jealous,' retorted his brother. `You're sick of sleeping with me instead of some drop-dead gorgeous witch.'
`Not jealous, but sick of sleeping with you,' came the quick reply.
`You are jealous.'
`You're afraid of sleeping alone.'
`You snore.'
`It's merely heavy nocturnal breathing.'
And so it continued as they made their way up to their second floor room…
Not long afterwards, Hermione lay in bed feeling nicely full, cosy and warm and incredibly happy. With her hands clasped behind her head, she gazed out the window at the starlit sky, wondering if it would snow before Christmas Day.
Her reverie was broken by a light tap on her door, startling her so that she sat up, drawing in a quick breath.
As the door opened and she heard the softest of whispers, `Hermione?' she knew immediately who it was.
`Harry? Is anything wrong?'
Harry's head appeared around the door. `Can I come in?' he asked softly.
`Of course you can,' she whispered back with a smile, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.
Harry pushed the door open just wide enough for him to enter, closing it with a quiet "snick" before crossing the room in a couple of long strides. Hermione, still sitting up, moved over so that there was room for Harry to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning onto his left arm, his fingers splayed on the duvet.
`What's the matter?' asked Hermione.
The faint starlight reflected in the green depths of his eyes as he looked at her. Glancing down, she noticed that Harry was silently drumming the fingers of his right hand on his knee.
`I know it's probably nothing, but I just need to ask you about something. Someone.'
`What is it?' asked Hermione, her quizzical expression barely visible in the faint light.
`That card you received today. From…that old friend in Paris.'
`Oh.'
`You seemed a bit flustered when I asked you about it this afternoon. Made me curious.'
Hermione dropped her eyes, noticing that Harry fingers were now still and tense.
`It was from a friend I made in Paris called Henri Lissane. He's a chef.'
`Is he a Muggle? I mean, sending Christmas cards isn't as common in the wizarding world.'
`His mum's a Muggle.' Now his hand was clenched into a tight fist.
Harry sighed as he, too, dropped his gaze. `I have to admit I overhead something I wasn't supposed to - completely by accident. I was about to come into the kitchen this afternoon to get some Butterbeer - you and Ginny were sitting at the table talking. I saw you give her that card and then she read it out loud. "To my beautiful Hermione, with love from Henri."'
Hermione failed to suppress a soft gasp of surprise and Harry's eyes flew up to meet her astonished gaze. There was complete silence for the space of a heartbeat and then Hermione shivered, partly from the cold, partly from the stirring of a faint apprehension.
Harry noticed and was immediately contrite. He put his arms around Hermione and drew her to him, her head settling in the crook of his neck as her arms wound around Harry's waist.
`Warmer?' murmured Harry, loving the feel of her in his arms, her hair against his cheek; she felt infinitely soft, warm and feminine.
`Mmm,' came Hermione's muffled response, managing to nod her head a few times.
`I'm sorry, my love,' said Harry, turning his head so that he spoke with his lips against her temple. `I think I was actually feeling jealous.'
Hermione pulled her back slightly and smiled at him. `Believe me, Harry, you have no reason to be jealous. I did go out with Henri a few times but I had to tell him in the end that we'd never be more than friends, although I didn't tell him it was because of you. He still always sends me a birthday and Christmas card, though. And we are friends - but nothing more.'
As Hermione snuggled into his neck again, Harry felt certain that was how Hermione saw it, but he had his doubts about Henri, although he did feel a triumphant joy swell within him at her words, "...it was because of you."
Still, he was sure that not even a Frenchman would write something like, "my beautiful Hermione, with love", in a card unless he had strong feelings for the woman he was sending it to. Without ever having met him, he didn't like the man, although he easily understood why he felt about Hermione the way he did. The words, She's mine! rang in his head and his heart and he relished the sheer bliss of the satisfaction those two simple words brought him, driving out the bad taste created by his bout of jealousy.
`Hermione?'
`Mmmm?'
`I'd better go.' Harry sounded deeply reluctant.
Hermione sighed as she straightened, her hands lingering on Harry's chest. `I suppose you had better,' she said just as reluctantly, absentmindedly fingering the pattern in his dark grey jumper.
`But at least I can kiss you goodnight properly since we're not in public,' he said, his voice gently teasing.
`Go right ahead,' she replied, a slight huskiness invading her voice.
In the next instant, Harry became painfully aware that Hermione was clad only in a light, almost sheer, sleeveless nightgown, the cream fabric almost glowing in the starlight. It was only when he felt the warmth of Hermione's hands cupping his face that he realised he was staring at the intricate stitching on her bodice and managed to pull his eyes away from the fascinating movement caused by her breathing. As his gaze found hers, he felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck him somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Her eyes, the darkest of browns in the dim light, held an intense hunger and longing, his heart rate skyrocketing in response.
`Harry…' her voice held five years of suppressed love and desire…she was drawing closer…
`Hermione, please!' His voice was hoarse - he wasn't sure whether he had the strength to leave now; he certainly didn't have the desire.
Then she was dropping softly burning kisses all over his face and he closed his eyes, his breathing ragged, almost overwhelmed with the strength of the sensations exploding in torrents throughout his whole body. His hands, seemingly of their own accord, reached up and grasped her shoulders, holding her to him, his mouth searching for hers, frantic with hunger and need. Hermione's arms slid around his neck and when their lips finally met - as Harry's mouth covered hers - she was in no doubt that her insides were melting…that everything was somehow feeling hot and slippery…and melting...
TO BE CONTINUED…
Author's Note
As I was typing away, I remembered just in the nick of time that I put this story up as a PG13 fic…*Phew! Close call!*
Chapter 12 will absolutely, definitely be the last chapter!!!
Cheers!
Janie xoxo
-->