Reunion

Author's Note

This began as a little idea…which grew and grew…and is now twelve chapters long. I've finished this story and plan on posting a new chapter every second day. (By the way - this chapter is a “set up” chapter and is probably the shortest chapter - the rest are all longer!)

Genre

With respect to genre, while I've chosen Romance/Humour (for good reason!), it also contains some adventure, mystery and drama.

Ships

H/Hr, beginning of R/L, Ginny/Dean (I know, I know - Portkey = Ginny and Draco! But to me, Ginny being with Draco cries out for a whole subplot or sub-storyline of its own to make it plausible and this little story is about the Trio, not Ginny and Draco…for said subplots and storylines see some of my other fics…)

Huge Thank You

To the truly wonderful Kirsti - best Beta EVER! Hugs dear! Xoxox

Special G'days to

Timbo! *Waves* And Cindy and Gaby (sorry dear - no Draco in this one! Maybe next time!) and “B”! *Hi girls!*

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER ONE

Ginny Does It

`You did it!' cried Dean Thomas as he grabbed his wife around the waist and swung her triumphantly up into the air.

Ginny Weasley Thomas laughed jubilantly as she wrapped her arms around her husband's neck, crying, `Yes, I think I did!

Dean let her slip slowly through his arms until she was standing on her own feet once more, although he kept his arms tightly around her as Ginny added thoughtfully, `Although I don't think I can truly take all the credit for it - I'm sure there's something going on with those three.'

`But they're coming,' Dean said, smiling lovingly at her, `and you did have some part in it.'

Ginny nodded and smiled as she stretched up to kiss him lightly before saying quietly, her expression contemplative, `Five years. Five years since they last saw each other.'

`Hard to believe they were once virtually inseparable,' said Dean, turning his head slightly to rest his cheek against her temple.

`What they accomplished still amazes me.' Ginny sighed deeply, referring to the Trio's defeat of Voldemort. `I just wish I knew what happened afterwards - why they left each other like that.'

`You and the rest of the wizarding world, love,' came the soft reply.

`Perhaps we'll find out, perhaps they'll finally talk about it, once they're all together again…'

The Trio Triumphant

Five years earlier, the Wizarding world, together with some Muggles in the know such as their Prime Minister, had been almost paralysed with a mixture of relief and joy. Voldemort had been vanquished once more. For good, this time - and again, it had been Harry Potter who had done it. With the help of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, of course. As it had been at Hogwarts, so it now was: each member of that historical Trio was instantly recognised by sight and by name - it wasn't even necessary to use their surnames. Harry, Ron and Hermione. Everyone knew them. Even the capitalisation of the word “Trio” when used to describe them became accepted usage. Ron had admitted to Harry during the early days of those hectic months that he finally understood why Harry had always wished for a “normal” existence, with no notoriety or infamy attached to him or his life.

The adulation and feasts, the congratulations and award ceremonies (Order of Merlin, First Class, naturally, for each of them) went on for weeks after Voldemort's final defeat. Yet strangely, no one seemed to notice the escalating tension between the three famous friends during those celebrations - perhaps because everyone was too busy being happy, too busy celebrating - or perhaps they simply didn't want to see. And so, just before Christmas, when the spotlight that had been trained unmercifully on the Trio finally began to diminish at the glowing prospect of a happy, Voldemort-free Christmas, they each slipped away: Hermione to Paris, to begin preparations for taking up the newly created position of Professor of Wizarding Studies at Beauxbatons Academy, Ron to Dublin where he worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports (Irish Quidditch Division) and Harry to Hogwarts as the first Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to remain (much to the relief of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall) for longer than one year since Tom Riddle had asked Professor Dumbledore for the job.

It wasn't immediately apparent that the members of the Trio were actively avoiding each other - after all, they were working, so it wasn't possible for them to see each other as frequently as they had in previous years. It took twelve months of declined invitations received from numerous sources for the wizarding world to begin figuratively scratching its head as realisation dawned. The questions at first were tentative…

“So, Miss Granger, you'll be attending Hogwarts for the annual memorial service for Albus Dumbledore as always?”

No, Miss Granger wouldn't be attending this year.

“Rather surprising, Miss Granger. Our readers would be interested to know what could prevent you from doing so…”

After silencing the reporter with a look reminiscent of a certain Hogwarts Headmistress, Miss Granger declined to give a specific reason aside from claiming the demands of her position left her little free time.

“But Miss Granger, you've attended every service without fail since…”

Sorry, but Miss Granger definitely had no comment to offer.

“So, Mr Weasley, you'll be heading over to Hogwarts for Dumbledore's memorial service I take it?”

“Erm, no, actually, not this year.” Ron stumbled over his words. He'd been having lunch in the local pub as he did each Friday and had been caught totally unawares by a reporter visiting from London. The young witch gave him a quizzical look before saying, “Surprising - especially since Hermione Granger isn't able to attend. We thought at least two of the Trio would be there.”

“Well, no, I can't go. Sorry, I have to leave now - I'm expecting an important owl from the Ministry this afternoon. Bye.” Bloody hell, I sound like Percy! Ron had thought bitterly to himself as he made his way to the door.

“You wanted to see me, Professor McGonagall?”

“Yes, Harry. I was wondering about arrangements for Miss Granger and Mr Weasley for this year's memorial service - I assume they'll be the same as in previous years. When will they be arriving, by the way? Have you heard from them?”

“No, but I very much doubt they'll be coming, Professor.”

“And why would you doubt that?”

Harry had looked down at the toes of his shoes which protruded from the hem of his robes, feeling strangely as though he was once more a student being admonished by his Head of House.

“I just have a feeling.”

“A feeling, Professor? What sort of feeling?”

“That they won't be able to make it.”

Harry could feel the gimlet gaze of the Headmistress boring into the top of his head.

“I see. And why would that be, Mr Potter?”

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched in amusement. It was very rare for the headmistress to forget herself and revert to using “Mr Potter” when addressing him.

“I don't feel I can speak for them, Professor.”

“Convenient,” came the murmured reply.

As the months passed, the questions became more and more pointed. It was Hermione who was first asked, point blank, “Are you deliberately avoiding Harry and Ron?” Hermione hadn't answered, but that in itself was enough to send reporters scurrying off to Ireland and Scotland to ask Harry and Ron the same question and to which they received the same answer: no answer.

It was around this time Molly Weasley came to realise that Harry and Hermione hadn't been to the Burrow since before Christmas and she made a point of inviting them for Harry's birthday. To no avail as it turned out; they both pleaded pressing work demands which prevented them from coming.

And so it was Ron who received the brunt of the questions from his family which he managed, rather inexpertly, to fob off.

Finally, in November, almost a year since he, Harry and Hermione had last seen each other, Ron was cornered by his mother, this time with no avenue of escape.

“Ronald Weasley! You will tell me this instant what is going on with you, Harry and Hermione! Why won't they come here? Why won't you go and visit them? Why?”

Ron froze. He was sitting at the scrubbed table in the small kitchen at the Burrow, a spoonful of homemade Spotted Dick halfway to his mouth, his eyes alone moving to rest on his mother's stout figure standing at the end of the table. She had her hands on her hips and her expression was implacably determined.

Ron put his still laden spoon down and sighed. He knew when he was defeated.

“Mum, I'm afraid this is how it's going to be from now on. Harry, Hermione and I - well, we won't be seeing each other for a while. I can't say why. You'll have to trust me.”

“Trust you? What's that supposed to mean? Why won't you be seeing each other? What happened? What's going on?” Molly Weasley's voice, while questioning, was firm and decisive - and she expected an answer.

Ron gulped as he pushed his half finished pudding away, afraid to meet his mother's eyes.

“Well?”

Ron sighed. `Mum, Harry, Hermione and I agreed not to discuss our problem until we had a solution. I can't break my word, all right? Until we have a solution, we won't be seeing each other. That's all.”

The silence that followed these words was deafening.

“That's all?”

Ron closed his eyes. His mother's deceptively quiet voice hid dangerous determination, he knew.

“That's all I can tell you, Mum. I'm sorry. Please, you just have to trust us. We know what we're doing.” And that's a lie, he thought wretchedly.

The strangled sound that issued from Mrs Weasley at that point made it obvious she was extremely sceptical of this last piece of information, but of course, she had no choice; Ron flatly refused to say anymore. Harry and Hermione, when replying to the owls she sent flying off the next morning, gave her no further enlightenment.

In what seemed no time at all, the whole wizarding world became aware of the matter. And so it began - the incessant demand for answers from all quarters - but they were as waves breaking against solid rock. The Trio stood unmoved; no further information was forthcoming.

It was at this time that witches and wizards everywhere seemed to suddenly begin recalling that there had been tension between the Trio the previous year, during the celebrations for the victory over Voldemort. Everyone agreed that really, when you thought about it, each of them had been rather subdued in the last twelve months since - definitely not themselves. And in this, they were right. Each of the three famous friends had felt the loss of each other's company keenly, their heartache increased by the fact that they were unable to discuss it with anyone as they had managed to agree on silence until their problem was solved.

It took quite some time, but eventually each member of the Trio settled into their post-Voldemort lives. As the years passed, they even appeared to be reasonably happy, although anyone that really knew them could not fail to be aware of an underlying sadness in their eyes. They each answered politely when questioned about the others and always showed respect for the others' qualities, abilities and deeds. Still, they each became adroit at evading any requests and invitations to occasions which might bring them together - all from people that thought perhaps this time it would be different…

And so it remained … until Ginny's umpteenth attempt to get them together again…

Ginny Sallies Forth & Nags Mercilessly

Ginny worked for her twin brothers, Fred and George, who owned and ran Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The enterprising twins now had three joke shops, their latest being in Hogsmeade Village where they were currently living and working, something they'd done with each new shop as they'd opened them. Perhaps it was truer to say she worked with them. She was, as George was fond of saying, a “witch-of-all-trades” and he and Fred would assure everyone that she was indispensable in the running of their business, from her ability to negotiate the purchase of necessary materials at a good price to her uncanny ability to cast many of the spells and charms needed in the production of their wares.

She, Fred and George often discussed Harry, Ron and Hermione and what could possibly have happened to make the Trio, who had been the closest of friends, stay away from each other, to the extent that they didn't even so much as owl each other. The Trio had not failed the wizarding world when they were needed and yet Ginny couldn't fight off a feeling that somehow the wizarding world had failed them in the end.

Fred told her she was imagining things; he maintained that it was the sight of each other bringing back horrific memories of the time leading up to the final battle and the battle itself that kept them apart. George would scoff when he heard this as he believed it was because the Trio had made a pact between themselves to stay apart for a period of time to avoid the unending intrusion into their lives. `Together, they're irresistible to every reporter and wizard or witch on the planet, but apart, they're not quite so potently famous,' (at which everyone to whom he spouted this theory snorted disbelievingly). `I think they did it so they could get on with their lives separately, in relative peace.'

Ginny would simply shake her head at the pair of them. She could never really settle on one of the countless reasons extrapolated by all and sundry. She had remained in touch with all three of them and had seen them too, over the years - more of Ron, naturally, he being her brother. Harry and Hermione did owl the Weasleys regularly but never came to the Burrow anymore. Mr and Mrs Weasley had long since given up on trying to convince them to visit, as had other family members and close friends.

In fact, speculation had been rife throughout the Wizarding world as to the reason behind the split - but that was all it was; no one really knew for certain.

However this year, when Ginny had visited each of the Trio individually, she'd been more than determined to do whatever was necessary to get them together, feeling somehow that if they did meet up again, just once, it would make all the difference. The Ministry's Yule Ball had seemed the perfect reason to “sally forth and nag mercilessly” as Fred described their sister's mission to George.

She went to Ron first, feeling he was possibly the easiest to convince given that he was her brother. When she had told him of the Ball, she'd pointed out that it was now five years since he, Harry and Hermione had defeated Voldemort and he really should consider attending. She went on to say that in recognition of their courage that night and which had resulted in so many lives being saved since, they owed it to the wizarding world to appear together again - just this once. She went on to say a lot more, too. When she realised that Ron was saying nothing, not a word, she stopped and looked at him. `Well?' she asked quietly.

Ron had sat at his kitchen table, elbows on the table with his chin resting in his hands, looking at his sister while she spoke, his eyes cloudy with memories she couldn't being to imagine.

`I'll come,' he'd answered quietly.

Ginny had sat stunned for a few seconds before collecting herself and jumping up, throwing her arms around her brother and thanking him. Ron, his ears almost as red as his hair, suffered this sisterly effusiveness for a few seconds and although he didn't really mind, he felt somewhat embarrassed as he disentangled himself from Ginny's embrace, saying cryptically, `Don't thank me, thank Hermione.'

And then she'd gone to see Hermione. Naturally, she'd asked her why Ron would make such a comment.

Hermione had shrugged in a rather Gallic fashion, due no doubt to her five years in France. Ginny had a strong feeling Hermione knew perfectly well what Ron meant and just wasn't telling. As it happened, she was right.

`Of course I'll come,' Hermione had said, adding with a small smile, `and when you see Harry, tell him that Ron and I expect him to be there.' Hermione's heart leapt within her at the thought of seeing Harry again, although many years' experience enabled her to conceal it.

Later that day, as Ginny left Harry's study to make her way back to Hogsmeade, she felt elation washing through her; all three of them had agreed to attend the ball, and yet she was left with the rather annoying feeling that something was going on with the Trio - something she knew nothing about and something which, once again, no one but the Trio was privy to.

Home again, Ginny mulled over how strangely easy it had been to convince them and wondered for the hundredth time that day, why? In the end, to avoid a headache, she decided that she would simply think of it as being done, and that was all that mattered. Besides, she'd find out eventually, wouldn't she? Surely…

The news that the Trio were reuniting once more spread throughout wizardom with the speed of a racing Firebolt. That they would be doing so at the annual Yule Ball hosted by the Ministry of Magic (although many were now referring to it as a Reunion Ball) on Christmas Eve created fierce competition for tickets to attend; Law Enforcement Wizards were kept busy trying to keep on top of certain unscrupulous wizardfolk attempting to sell either forged tickets or real ones at fantastically inflated prices.

As for the Trio, wrapped up as they were in their own personal thoughts, they remained happily oblivious to the furore their pending reunion was creating...

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note

Next chapter this Sunday (late) or very early Monday! Cheers!

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Author's Note

Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed Chapter One - I truly appreciate it! And as always - my thanks to Kirsti-the-Wonder-Beta! xoxox

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER TWO

Ron Returns

`Seamus, you'll be all right here alone?' asked Ron anxiously for about the twelfth time as he stood in his office doorway, just about to go. It was Friday afternoon and he was leaving early as he'd agreed to have afternoon tea with his mum and dad.

Seamus Finnigan sighed and rolled his eyes. `Yes mate, I'll be fine! For cryin' out loud, nothing's happenin' in the world of Quidditch at the moment since it's off season. And it's too bloody cold anyway!'

Ron gave his second-in-command and friend a lopsided grin. `I know. I just haven't been away for this long before - two weeks!'

`About time too! You have a great Christmas with your family, mate, and say Happy New Year to them all, from me.' Seamus gave Ron a speculative grin. `And give Hermione a hug from me.'

Ron froze, staring at Seamus. `What do you mean?' he demanded.

Seamus shrugged, rolling his eyes again. `Nothin' mate. I always admired that girl. If a hug's not in order, just say hello from me, and thank you. To Harry, too.'

Ron nodded. Since Ginny's return visit, when she'd told him both Harry and Hermione were going to the Ministry's ball and he'd known he'd be seeing them again, his stomach had been in a continuous state of nervousness. Will it really be all right? After all this time? What if -

`Ron?'

Shaking his head as though shaking off something that was bothering him, Ron's gaze once more focused on his friend. `Sure thing,' Ron answered belatedly, his voice non-committal, `and you have a great Christmas too, mate. I'll see you next year.'

After Apparating back to the small cottage he and Seamus shared to pick up the suitcase he'd packed the previous evening (surprising himself as well as Seamus with such unaccustomed organisation), Ron then Apparated to the Burrow. He was greeted with a happy cry and a flurry of hugs from his mother, a warm handshake and an affectionate squeeze of his shoulder from his father.

Molly Weasley was breathless with excitement as she fussed over Ron, the first of her brood to return for the beginning of the family's ritual pre-Christmas festivities. Once the three of them were sitting around the table with a large pot of hot tea, fresh scones with jam and cream and some biscuits baked that morning to warm their insides, Molly could contain herself no longer.

`Ron, you're not going to believe what's happening on Sunday!'

Ron grinned and rolled his eyes, drawing a chuckle from his father. `Try me, Mum.'

Molly took a deep breath, her excitement almost palpable. `Hermione and her parents as well as Harry are all coming for lunch!'

Whatever he'd expected, it hadn't been this. Ron's mouth fell open and he gaped at his mother. He thought he would've had another week to get used to the idea of seeing them again.

`Ron,' said Arthur, putting his hand over his wife's as it lay on the table, `we've actually just asked them to lunch - we haven't had replies as yet.'

`I'm sure they'll come!' said Molly confidently, frowning at her husband.

Ron blinked and realising his mouth was still hanging open, closed it.

`That's great,' he said automatically, nodding.

`Ron,' broke in his father, `it's not going to be a problem is it if they do come? There won't be - I don't know - scenes? You three - listen, son, what happened?' It was a question his parents had asked countless times in the past, but it had been a while since he'd last heard it.

Ron sighed. `It doesn't really matter any more Dad, truly. Water under the bridge and all that. We'll be fine - no scenes.' At least he hoped there wouldn't be. And he didn't really want to have to explain after all this time, anyway. It had been hard enough living it…

And with that Arthur and Molly had to be satisfied.

That night, as he lay in his old bed, Ron was amused at how small it now seemed. He was lying on his back, his arms behind his head as he looked across the room and out the window at the clear, cloudless sky, a shining, almost full moon casting soft shadows.

How many times had he been asked that question: “What happened?”? It all seemed so long ago now. Almost like a dream. Or rather, a nightmare, more like it. But it looked as though the nightmare would soon end… thanks to Hermione.

Everyone had wanted to know. Everyone had asked, over and over, but the one thing the three of them had agreed upon was to not discuss it until they knew more; they'd even hoped for a short time that it wouldn't become public knowledge, that no one would notice. But as time passed, of course they had. Confused shock amongst wizardkind at the disintegration of the Trio had given way to puzzlement, followed by resentment over the feeling that their heroes had in some way let them down. Eventually the incessant, unavoidable curiosity that took over from the resentment was replaced with a form of resigned acceptance and the questions faded out. Oh, there were the speculative articles that cropped up from time to time in various publications that claimed to know the reason behind “the split” (especially on the anniversary of Voldemort's defeat) - a few books were even written about it - but all everyone knew for sure was that no one really knew the truth - except the infuriatingly silent Trio.

What the hell am I going to say to them? wondered Ron, his stomach clenching with nerves at the thought of seeing Harry and Hermione again after so long, whether it was this Sunday or next week at the ball. One consolation, they're probably thinking the same thing. I wonder if Mum will convince them to come this Sunday? His thoughts moved back once more to the past… It's been five years. Things should be different now, he hoped. Beneath his nervousness at seeing Harry and Hermione again, Ron was aware of a glimmer of hope that had come into being a few weeks previously due solely to the tenacious and intrepid Hermione…

Hermione Comes Home

The next day dawned crisp and clear. Mr and Mrs Granger had been up early - the excitement at seeing their daughter again too great to permit sleeping in, even though it was Saturday. Hermione had owled them every week without fail since she'd gone to live at the Beauxbatons Academy, but the only time they saw her was at Christmas during her visit home and when they'd go to Paris each autumn to spend time with her for her birthday.

With their fireplace connected to the Floo Network for the occasion, Hermione arrived at nine a.m. as scheduled.

After long, warm hugs from both her parents, Hermione stood between them, her arms through theirs.

`It's so good to be home again!' she said happily, looking from one to the other.

Much as Ron had done the day before, Hermione sat down with her parents to some morning tea in front of the living room fire.

Sighing happily as she sipped her tea, curled up on the couch in front of the fire, Hermione realised how much she missed England, the familiar sights and sounds - more so this year than any other, although she didn't bother to analyse why; it didn't seem important now that she was here.

`We've received an invitation from Arthur and Molly to lunch on Sunday, at the Burrow,' said her mother quietly, remembering the arrival of the exhausted old owl early the previous day.

Hermione looked up, surprised.

`We said yes,' put in her father, looking at her over the top of his spectacles. `Although the poor owl that brought the invitation seemed almost dead from exhaustion. We kept him here, resting, until this morning, then sent back our acceptance.'

`Would've been poor old Errol,' murmured Hermione as she looked down at her hands, watching as they absentmindedly turned her teacup around and around, the small amount of liquid left in it swirling aimlessly. She knew her parents had intentionally sent that acceptance back before she arrived - they'd always made it plain they thought she, Ron and Harry were doing the wrong thing by not keeping in touch; they weren't to know that it had never been the Trio's choice to be apart.

Perhaps it's best if we do meet again before the ball itself, she thought. I'll have to owl Harry and Ron again and let them know - send them some of the potion…

`That's all right, Mum. Dad. I'm happy to go.'

Mrs Granger heaved a sigh of relief as she flashed a triumphant smile at her husband.

`Hermione,' said her father gently, `can't you tell us now what happened between the three of you?'

Hermione lifted her head to stare into the crackling fire for a moment before shaking her head.

`It doesn't matter any more, Dad. It's all in the past and behind us now. Best to leave it there.' If everything goes as I hope, perhaps I'll tell you… about that last fight with Voldemort and what he did…what happened to us… and about Harry… Harry… Her heart fluttered erratically merely at the thought of him.

Harry's Back

Sunday morning found a tall, black-haired wizard standing at the window of his room, gazing over the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. Harry's room was high in a tower with views over the grounds to Hagrid's hut and the Forbidden Forest beyond. The Black Lake sparkled in the winter sun and he could clearly see the imposing entrance gates in the distance as well as the Quidditch pitch. He could also see tiny forms zooming around the grandstands on their miniature broomsticks - a team practise in progress.

Five years, he thought. Five years since - since it was all over. Five years since - well, no point on dwelling on that now. He would have to wait and see. He wondered how much Ron and Hermione had changed in that time. He wondered how much he'd changed himself. He didn't feel as though it was much, but it was hard to judge such things about yourself. What would they say to each other? It was, after all, five years. Unexpectedly, a crystal clear picture from that fateful night five years before blazed in his mind, bringing with it all the grief and sorrow he thought time had managed to smooth away. The years between that night and now were stripped away, allowing the wrenching heartache and pain to take hold once more.

As the vision faded, Harry took a few deep, calming breaths, bitterness coursing through him at the thought that even in death Voldemort had managed to spread discord - and between the three people who had defeated him, no less. Another good reason to go to the ball, thought Harry. And Hermione seemed to think she'd finally found the solution to their problem. For a number of reasons, he prayed she had. He wondered, his stomach clenching at the thought, how it would feel to be in the same room with her again - for her to be close enough to touch… although he supposed it wasn't very realistic of him to hold out hope about how Hermione felt after all this time - well, I'll just wait and see, he told himself bracingly.

A soft rustling noise caught his ear and he turned to see Hedwig fly in through the small, high window he always left open for her. As she landed expertly on her perch, she looked at him expectantly. He realised then there were two scrolls and a small package attached to her leg and quickly crossed the room to remove them, running his hand over her soft feathers in an affectionate caress as he thanked her quietly. Hedwig hooted softly in reply before tucking her head under her wing, obviously ready for a nap.

Taking a seat at his large, slightly untidy desk, Harry pushed aside some assignments he was in the middle of marking and unrolled one of the parchments. He felt a shock of recognition and pleasure race through him for the second time in a matter of weeks when he saw the close, neat writing he'd recognise anywhere, any time, no matter how long since he'd last seen it: it was Hermione's.

Dear Harry,

Isn't this ironic? We don't correspond for five years and here I am writing to you for the second time in as many weeks. I arrived home yesterday to have my parents tell me they'd accepted an invitation for lunch today at the Burrow and that you were invited also. (Harry groaned as he read this, realising he'd forgotten to owl Mrs Weasley about that invitation; he hadn't been able to decide what to do.) They didn't know whether you'd agreed to go or not, so I'd just like to say that I hope you did. Ron would be there already, at the Burrow, and I've also sent an owl to him this morning with some of the potion, so the three of us should be able to be together without any problems. In case you've forgotten (it has been a while!), take one and three quarter tablespoonfuls just before you Floo to the Burrow and all should be well. (I'm assuming you'll be Flooing from Professor McGonagall's office.)

Looking forward to seeing you later today,

Your friend always,

Hermione

Harry couldn't help but smile. It had always been Hermione who had been the “fixer” and “finder outer” of the Trio and she was still doing it, thank Merlin! And she'd said she was looking forward to seeing him…his heart began to race and his stomach churned in such a way that he was certain he'd not be able to eat for the rest of the day. Yes, he thought, doing his best to ignore the convolutions of his insides, it was definitely time to “fix things” and make amends…

As it slowly sank in that he was going to be seeing Hermione and Ron in a few hours and that the Yule Ball was less than a week away, it was as if some unnamed weight was lifted from his shoulders; he actually felt lighter - as though he was floating… the Yule Ball… and Hermione… he and Hermione… and Ron, too, of course… free at last…

Returning to the present with a rueful shake of his head, Harry opened the second letter, which was from Molly Weasley asking him rather desperately whether or not he'd be coming to the Burrow for lunch today - she hadn't heard from him; Ron would be there and Hermione and her parents were coming, surely he'd be there…? Harry smiled, still feeling light-hearted as he sat down to write his reply assuring his “adoptive” mother he'd be there.

All Together Once More

Molly put her husband and son to work at magically extending their scrubbed wooden table and small kitchen to accommodate all the guests, her wand a blur as she oversaw the cooking. Ginny and Dean had arrived early to help and Molly immediately put them to work on various culinary tasks.

As the clock which Fred and George had given their parents the previous Christmas struck eleven, Bill and Fleur arrived, stepping out of the fireplace with their four-year-old twin daughters, each a giggling, blonde, miniature version of their mother. As their parents put them down, the little girls streaked across the room, firstly to hug Arthur then Molly.

`Grand-père! Mamie! We love you! We love you!' They both squealed with delight as Arthur picked up first one, then the other, and swung them around before putting them down so they could run to Molly.

`Oy! What about Uncle Ron, you two?'

As Ron stood up from the table, the girls laughed and ran to him, hugging him enthusiastically.

`Oncle Ron, we love you too!' they chanted before turning once more to Molly. `Bonbon, Mamie, s'il te plait? Pleeze?' they demanded eagerly, pulling at their grandmother's apron.

`Always, my darlings,' crowed Molly happily, reaching into her apron pocket and pulling out some sweets which she handed over to the excited girls, getting more kisses and hugs by way of thanks.

Charlie and his wife, Cordelia, who was very obviously pregnant, arrived shortly afterwards. Percy and Penelope Weasley arrived on the heels of Charlie and Cordelia, Percy a much more subdued man these days. He'd left the Ministry of Magic shortly before Voldemort's defeat, as even he could no longer ignore the Ministry's appalling performance since the days of Cornelius Fudge when it came to looking after the best interests of all witches and wizards. It had been an excruciating time for the proud and pompous Percy; he'd gone to work for Gringott's, taking over as Head of Archives, a job that suited him perfectly, and had married Penelope Clearwater, his childhood sweetheart, a year after Voldemort's demise. Yet to this day there remained a distinct coolness in his siblings' manner towards him which he accepted stoically.

Fred and George stepped out the fireplace with a theatrical flourish just minutes before midday.

`You're always late!' accused Mrs Weasley.

`Better late than never!' chorused the twins before they descended on their mum and hugged her complaints into oblivion.

Harry, Hermione and the Grangers were due to arrive at midday and as the last minute rush to finish everything swung into action, Ron found his eyes constantly moving to the clock while his stomach seemed to be tying itself into an ever tighter knot. When, at the stroke of twelve, a tiny figure that looked just like Hagrid walked out onto the little wooden platform above the clock-face and banged two large cymbals together, Ron jumped nervously. His eyes were quickly drawn back to the flames in the large kitchen fireplace which turned green again as if on cue, the remaining eleven crashes of the clock-Hagrid's cymbals fading into the background…

Mr and Mrs Granger stepped out, smiling widely at everyone, followed by Hermione, who was also smiling, although her eyes were searching, intent only on finding two other people. She sensed at once that Harry wasn't yet there and then she saw Ron across the room, staring at her. She stood perfectly still, looking back at him. Neither of them noticed the silence that descended at that moment as everyone watched and waited.

I think he's even taller! Hermione mused, taking in Ron's still rather lanky frame; he was wearing Muggle jeans and a pale green jumper. But he's still Ron - thank Merlin!

Merlin's beard! Hermione? Ron only just managed to stop his jaw dropping open at the sight of his old friend. Living in France had obviously had an effect on Hermione's appearance. Whether it was Sleekeazy's Hair Potion or something else, her hair - which was now very long, almost to her waist - was as well behaved as a witch could wish; she wore it combed back away from her face and fixed behind with some sort of comb, the long, shining, soft curls trailing down her back. She too, wore Muggle jeans, but they seemed smarter somehow, rather than casual - perhaps it was the brown leather boots that peeked out from beneath the denim hem that did it? Her jumper was a soft creamy colour and very fine - Ron wasn't to know it was cashmere, last year's birthday present from her parents - and had a large, rolled neckline that draped softly across her shoulders. Ron, unable to move, watched as Hermione crossed the room towards him, everyone moving silently aside to give her a clear path. Extending her hands towards him, Hermione smiled, suddenly feeling a little shy, but not wanting to show it. Ron automatically reached out and took her hands when she was close enough and that's where they stood, hands loosely clasped, smiling at each other.

`All right, Ron?' she asked softly.

Ron nodded. `All right, Hermione. You?'

It was Hermione's turn to nod as she felt suddenly overcome, tears springing unbidden to her eyes. She could tell that the potion, although a “temporary fix”, was working as there was no animosity whatsoever between them; this was how it had been once, how it would be again…tears of happy anticipation sparkled in her eyes at the thought.

`Hey,' said Ron softly, `it's going to be all over soon - in the past, and done with. Right?'

Swallowing the tears, Hermione nodded again. `Right. I just wish we could have stopped him from doing this to us in the first place.'

`There's no way any of us could've known or have been prepared, even you Hermione, you know that,' said Ron with a laconic smile.

Hermione chuckled. `That's true. You know, I feel so much better seeing you - and knowing we're going to see Harry. It just seems so right.'

`It is, it's our time,' Ron replied, his voice dropping, becoming serious. `The three of us were - are - right. Voldemort was wrong.'

Nodding in agreement, Hermione squeezed Ron's hands. `It really is so very good to see you again, Ron,' she said happily, glad she'd put that little extra ingredient in the potion that would help dispel awkwardness; she'd become very adept at potions over the years.

Ron pulled gently on her hands, drawing her to him and wrapping his long arms around her. `It's even better seeing you, Hermione.'

`Go Ron! Go Hermione!'

Ron looked up. Fred and George were both clapping and cheering - and within seconds, they were joined by everyone else. Hermione moved back from Ron and turned around, very aware that her cheeks were flushed and that she was incapable of wiping the smile off her face.

`Where's Harry?' cried Fred and, as if he'd heard him, the flames in the kitchen fireplace again turned green and total silence once more descended upon the Burrow as Harry Potter stepped out.

Hermione gasped, very softly, but because of the silence blanketing the room, it was clearly audible. Everyone present knew exactly what had drawn that gasp from her.

In the last five years, Harry had matured both as a man and as a wizard and he now unconsciously emanated an aura of understated power, the like of which hadn't been experienced since Albus Dumbledore's time. While remaining oblivious to the effect his presence had, as well as the reason behind it, Harry couldn't ignore the reactions of others and he'd learnt the easiest course was to simply pay no attention to them.

Harry's self assurance had also unconsciously kept pace with the continuing development of his power over the previous five years, power that was continually being refined through his teaching and his own personal practise sessions.

Hermione understood precisely what he meant when Ron muttered in an awed whisper, “Wow!” from behind her; Harry was undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with on every level - and with the passage of time, now seemed more so than on the day he'd vanquished his lifelong enemy.

As she took in his tall, lithe frame, clothed also in Muggle jeans with a deep green jumper, Hermione noticed he'd filled out somewhat - that he'd lost that pinched, youthful look of not having had quite enough to eat; he looked well and truly like a man. With her stomach feeling as though it was trying to tie itself into knots, Hermione gazed at him, realising that for her, nothing had changed in the last five years when it came to this man. She felt as though some invisible force had slammed into her, taking her breath away, as she took in the sight of his eternally messy black hair, his unforgettable green eyes behind those trademark glasses - and the infamous scar, just visible beneath his untidy fringe.

Even his stance unknowingly conveyed authority acquired from teaching and his own, distinctive aura of power: he stood with his feet slightly apart, his shoulders back and his gaze steady, looking straight ahead, both arms deceptively relaxed as they hung by his sides; somehow Hermione knew he would be capable of lightning fast reactions, if needed.

Harry's brilliant green eyes immediately sought out Ron and Hermione.

He took in Ron's lanky frame before allowing his gaze to linger on Hermione's glowing countenance. How is it possible she looks even more beautiful? he wondered dazedly, his whole body tingling just from the sight of her. Then he grinned.

And when he did, he was just Harry again and everything seemed to fall into place - it was as though they'd all been occupying a frozen tableau for the time it had taken to absorb each other's presence - and now they were free to move again.

`Hermione? Ron?' Harry's voice, edged with hesitancy, nevertheless sounded joyously strong and loud in the silence of the room.

Hermione found herself running towards him without thinking and throwing her arms around his neck in a hug such as she'd not given anyone since the last hug she'd given Harry, so long ago…

Ron was striding towards him, an ear splitting grin in place, his hand extended.

The air in the room crackled with expectancy and anticipation.

With his left arm around Hermione's shoulders as she moved aside for Ron, Harry took Ron's hand in his right, shaking it vigorously, both men grinning uncontrollably at each other.

It's as though a spell has been lifted, thought Ginny, watching them, almost hypnotised. It's as though the last five years haven't existed. I can't believe it!

As Hermione wrapped her left arm around Ron, his arms swung up to embrace both her and Harry, who then clapped his right hand to Ron's shoulder forming a tight circle. Spontaneous applause and cheering broke out amongst those present.

Hermione felt her tears return and this time she couldn't prevent them rolling down her cheeks, unheeded, as she smiled helplessly.

Harry looked at Ron and both men knew the worst was over and they would finally be able to reclaim their friendship.

Hermione was watching them and felt her heart swell at the sight - until Harry turned and looked down at her, his smile making her heart turn over in her chest.

Then Ron laughed and so did Harry, the infectious sound drawing laughter from Hermione as well. `It's really going to be all right, isn't it?' asked Harry. `You bet it is,' said Ron heartily and Hermione looked from one to the other as she nodded, her eyes bright with tears.

No one else could hear what they were saying and so didn't know what was going on between the three of them in their huddle, but then that was nothing new…

`Right you two, time to celebrate!' said Ron as he straightened, dropping his arms, `We've earnt it!'

`Yes, we have,' said Hermione as she and Harry smiled at each other.

`You all do, indeed, deserve it,' exclaimed Bill who, standing behind them, had heard Ron's remark.

`Then let the celebrations begin,' said Harry, grinning, his gaze moving away from Ron to rest once more on Hermione's luminous face.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note

Here's a little excerpt from Chapter Three dear readers, which will be along on Wednesday some time:

Without moving her head, Hermione lifted her eyes from the fire to look at Harry. He thought she looked tired, but contented, and he smiled tenderly at her; she was, after all, the one who had given them the promise of a future in which the three of them could be together again.

`Thank you,' he said quietly, feeling his heartstrings tugged by the sight of a solitary tear forming in the corner of her eye before slowly making its way down her cheek, even though she was smiling. Harry stretched out his right hand, palm up, towards her and Hermione, after a quick glance down, placed her hand in his, loving the feel of his warm, strong fingers curling around hers.

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Author's Note

It's really interesting to read your various theories, dear readers! Wonder what you'll think after this chapter…which is a lovely, fluffy chapter to keep you warm during the cold chapters ahead…

PS Since I'm uploading this without the benefit of Kirsti-the-Super-Beta's final, final revision, if there are any typos, they're mine…and you can let me know about them because I'm still able to read reviews during treatment for Stress-Induced-Hysteria (caused by OCD over typos, etc)

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER THREE

The Best Ever Sunday Lunch at the Burrow

As snow swirled in endless, dizzying spirals outside, the temporarily enlarged kitchen of the Burrow was filled to the brim with warmth and laughter. Such a day, such a celebration, hadn't been had for a long time and everyone present seemed to be revelling gloriously in the atmosphere created by the delicious and plentiful food and the joyous mood of the company. Molly appeared to have been inspired when it came to the meal and it was agreed unanimously by all present that she had outdone herself - which was saying something.

Harry and Hermione had been pleased to finally meet Bill and Fleur's daughters, although they felt as though they'd watched them grow up courtesy of the photographs they'd received, thanks to Molly's habit of owling them both over the years. Harry also commented quietly to Hermione that Bill was looking much better these days, alluding to the ghastly injuries inflicted by Fenrir Greyback which, with treatment, had improved greatly over the years.

The petite twins had taken immediately to Hermione and she to them, although they had shown a little shyness with Harry initially, despite having seen photographs of him many times. When Aimee had asked hesitantly what she should call him, he'd smiled and shrugged as he told her, `Just “Harry”, I suppose.' Angelique, not to be outdone by her sister, had climbed onto his knee and giggled as she said, `Just Harry - that eez a nice name, I like it!' To Harry's consternation, Aimee quickly claimed his other knee and he found himself beset by the incessantly chattering and giggling twins; they demanded his attention so completely he was totally unaware of Hermione watching him, her soft brown gaze filled with the profound tenderness only a woman can feel at the sight of the man she loves man interacting with young children. Eventually, laughing heartily, Bill took pity on him and came to his rescue, shooing the girls off to play elsewhere.

When Molly announced lunch was ready, everyone seated themselves as they pleased, moving quickly and hungrily to the table, although naturally no one took Arthur's spot at the head of the table or Molly's to his right. So, with Arthur and Molly in their customary spots, the bubbly, beautiful twins sat in the two seats beside their grandmother, Fleur sitting next to them; Bill, of course, sat beside his wife. Next were Cordelia and Charlie with Penelope last, while Percy took the seat at the end of the table to be next to Penelope. Ron was seated on his father's left, Hermione next to him and Harry beside her; Hermione's parents had taken the next two seats, with Ginny sitting next to Hermione's dad and Dean between her and Fred. This left George in the last seat next to Percy, something he didn't appear overly pleased about. He managed, however, to remember his manners and was as always, for his mother's sake, coolly polite with his older brother.

As course after course was eagerly and hungrily devoured, the mood around the table mellowed; George even found himself offering Percy a “family discount” if he should happen to visit one of their stores. Percy, mindful of what a step forward this was, accepted graciously and assured his younger brother he and Penelope would very soon venture into the Diagon Alley outlet of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

By the time dessert was served, it was as though the years had rolled back and there'd been no dissension, no separation…

Dessert Arrives - Without Custard!

`Oh, Mum!' Ron moaned ecstatically, eyeing the dessert dishes as they floated across the room at his mother's direction. They landed gently, arranging themselves down the middle of the table and Molly smiled indulgently as she ordered, `Eat up and enjoy, everyone!'

Hermione sat up straight in her chair, her hands rubbing her stomach and grimacing as though in pain. `I couldn't possibly eat another bite, Mrs Weasley!' she complained.

`Don't worry, Hermione, I'll eat your share,' Ron told her happily, making everyone laugh.

`Harry, dear, there's warm treacle tart - oh, I see you've found it!' said Molly with a rather smug smile.

`Oh yes, Mrs Weasley - I don't even care about the rest, but I'm not going to miss having some of this!' replied Harry with a grin.

Hermione's mum laughed lightly as she watched Harry transfer a huge slice of treacle tart to his plate.

`Oh, Harry, how I wish I could fit some of that in,' she groaned softly, eyeing the tart longingly.

`Don't worry dear,' her husband consoled her, `if Harry doesn't demolish the lot we may be able to take a piece with us.' He look inquiringly at Molly, wearing what he hoped was a winning smile.

`Of course, of course!' she answered happily. `I'll give you the recipe, too, if you'd like it dear.' She looked inquiringly at Hermione's mum.

`Well, I'd love that, but I doubt it will taste half as good as this!'

`Oy! Mum!' interrupted Fred from the other end of the table. `Where's the custard?'

`Oh my! I forgot!' cried Molly, jumping to her feet and looking agitated.

`Molly!' said Arthur sternly, `Fred's life will not be in tatters if he doesn't have custard right this instant. You sit down and relax, you've done enough!' He gave his son a stern look as he took his wife's hand and pulled her back into her seat. As he finished speaking he lifted her hand and dropped a light kiss on the back of it, smiling at her flustered countenance.

`Dad, I reckon that -' began Fred.

`Fred, my son, shut it,' said his father firmly, although there was a twinkle in his eye even as he threw his son a look of admonishment.

Nearly everyone had to smother outbursts of giggles at the sight of Fred's face which, when he realised he wasn't going to win this one, became a highly exaggerated mask of woe.

`No custard?' he gasped.

`Not a drop,' said his father resolutely, quashing a smile.

`Get over it, Fred!' cried Ginny, laughing so hard there were tears rolling down her face. She was enjoying seeing her cheeky brother get a rare serving of comeuppance.

`What if,' said Fred in a sepulchral voice, certain his mother couldn't say no to anyone else, `others desire custard?'

`Fat chance now,' muttered Ron, smirking at Harry and Hermione in turn, both of whom chuckled at this remark.

`Oncle Fred,' piped up Aimee, `no one eez asking for the custard, yes?'

`No one,' echoed Angelique, nodding decidedly.

`And so, you will not be having any custard I think, dear Frederick?' put in Fleur, trying valiantly not to laugh.

Fred sighed as loudly as he could, dramatically raising the back of his hand to his forehead while beside him, his twin rolled his eyes in amused disgust. `It doesn't look like it,' he said, `but despite being deprived of my custard, I will endeavour to enjoy my dessert.'

`Of course you will, you silly sod,' remarked George dryly.

Impressive inroads were made into the various dessert dishes despite everyone's complaints about being too full. Once the table was cleared and the dishes were making soft, chinking noises as they washed themselves, Arthur stood and lifted his goblet, drawing all eyes to him.

`A toast is in order, I feel,' he said, grinning around the table at everyone. `So - here's to what promises to be the best Christmas yet, here's to the three people that have made it possible and here's to everyone being together again!'

Enthusiastic cries of, `hear, hear!' echoed around the room as everyone lifted their goblets.

As he sat down, Arthur looked expectantly from Ron, to Hermione then Harry who exchanged glances amongst themselves before Harry whispered, `I'll say something, shall I?'

`Better you than me, mate,' replied Ron, grinning, `I'm not much good at the speech stuff.'

`Hermione?'

Hermione shook her head as she smiled at Harry. `All yours,' she said firmly.

Harry gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart skip a beat before standing up.

He looked silently around the table at each of them. `All together again,' he said quietly. `I wasn't sure this day would come but - well, it has. And I can't tell you how marvellous it is to see you all again, but especially,' he looked down at Hermione, then Ron, `to see Hermione and Ron again.' Hermione reached up and took Harry's hand, giving it a squeeze as Ron put his arm across her shoulders; they all smiled at each other and Hermione once more felt tears prickling at the back of her eyes.

Then Molly sniffed, trying not to cry, using her apron to dab at her eyes. Harry, Ron and Hermione chuckled and Molly gave them a wavering smile. `It's just so wonderful to see you all together again!' she explained.

`And I'd just like to say thank you for that brilliant lunch, too, Mrs Weasley,' said Harry. `You even surpassed the feasts at Hogwarts!'

Looking happily flustered at this compliment, Molly rose and said she needed to go and supervise the rest of the cleaning up and putting away, still dabbing at her eyes as she headed into the kitchen.

`Well,' said Harry, `I'd like to take a walk - will you come?' he asked, looking at Ron and Hermione who spoke simultaneously. `'Course mate,' said Ron as Hermione said, `Of course we will.'

The Trio rugged up in relative silence, everyone watching them while smiling quickly if they happened to catch their eye. As Ron pulled the back door shut behind them, an excited babble broke out around the table.

Standing just outside the door, Harry, Ron and Hermione grinned at each other as the muffled sound of voices reached them.

`Guess what they're talking about?' muttered Ron, grinning and waggling his eyebrows.

Hermione stepped between them, hooking an arm through each of theirs as she looked up at them.

`Come on, let's walk and talk, boys.'

`Boys? Boys?' cried Ron, trying to sound put out, stopping suddenly and looking down at Hermione in mock indignation.

Hermione gave him what tried hard to pass as a stern look as she tugged on his arm. `You'll always be “my boys” to me regardless of how old you are,' she said lightly, and Ron laughed.

`All right, my girl, let's walk and talk,' he shot back facetiously.

Harry groaned, shaking his head as he murmured under his breath, `Some things never change!'

Ron and Hermione laughed at Harry and as the three friends walked away from the sounds of the curious crowd in the kitchen behind them, their feet crunching in the fresh snow; each of them felt the happiest they'd been for five years.

Harry's Up First

Harry woke first the next morning, while it was still dark outside. He was in what had once been Percy's room, on the second floor. Aside from Ginny and Dean, he, Ron and Hermione were the only ones who had stayed overnight, everyone else either Flooing or Disapparating home.

Thankful he'd put a heating charm on the room before going to sleep, Harry pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, a huge yawn overtaking him as he sat, stretching his arms above his head. Reaching for his glasses, he glanced at his watch; it was five a.m. He'd become accustomed to arising early during his years at Hogwarts, a tray with a pot of tea always at the ready, left by the devoted Dobby.

Well, he thought deprecatingly, no Dobby here! I'll have to look after myself this week. Have to remember to tell Dobby how much I appreciate him when I get back to Hogwarts…

Exchanging his pyjamas for jeans and a thick, black jumper, Harry pulled on some warm socks and his trainers and walked out onto the landing, shivering slightly as he came into contact with the cooler air. He glanced across at the door to Fred and George's old room where Hermione was sleeping and smiled as he remembered the previous day. Hermione was nothing if not thorough, he thought, and yesterday afternoon when the three of them had gone for their walk, she'd given them the details of what they would need to do to “get back to where we belong - together”.

`I was actually going to arrange all this for after the Ball, but I think since fate has brought us together now, we should go ahead next Wednesday, there's a full moon then. It's earlier than I'd planned, but I'm sure we can do it,' Hermione told them, and they didn't argue when she went on to explain that they would need to “rehearse” and what that entailed.

The whole discourse had taken some time and their teeth were chattering with cold by the time Hermione had finished. Both Ron and Harry found themselves infected by Hermione's confidence that they would be successful and they'd all returned to the Burrow with a bounce in their step.

On reaching the house, they found only Hermione's parents, Ginny, Dean, Fred and George still there, the goodbyes and best wishes of the others passed on to them with assurances they would be in touch. Hermione's parents took their leave shortly afterwards, Hermione promising she'd be in touch in the next day or so as she hugged them. Fred and George stayed for the supper of leftovers (rather delicious leftovers at that - including custard with dessert to Fred's great delight), unabashedly admitting that they never ate as well at home as they did at the Burrow. Once the twins had departed with full tummies, Arthur and Molly had said goodnight and left Ginny, Dean, Harry, Ron and Hermione clustered around the fire in the small living room off the kitchen. Ginny and Dean shared one of the large, old, rather frayed but very comfortable armchairs, Ginny on Dean's lap, while Hermione curled up in the other; Ron and Harry sat on the sofa between them, their legs stretched out to the warmth of the fire. There was a wonderfully comfortable air of contentment about the gathering, Ginny repeating her father's words that this was definitely the best Christmas yet.

Ron smiled at his sister in the chair to his left. `You have no idea,' he said, a look of serene satisfaction on his face.

`Ditto,' said Harry, turning to look at Hermione who was sitting to his right; he could see most of her face because she had her head turned towards him, resting against the back of the arm chair. As she gazed into the fire, the soft, yellow light of the flames danced merrily across her face.

Without moving her head, Hermione lifted her eyes from the fire to look at Harry. He thought she looked tired, but contented and he smiled tenderly at her; she was, after all, the one who had given them the promise of a future in which the three of them could be together again.

`Thank you,' he said quietly, feeling his heartstrings tugged by the sight of a solitary tear forming in the corner of her eye before slowly making its way down her cheek, even though she was smiling. Harry stretched out his right hand, palm up, towards her and Hermione, after a quick glance down, placed her hand in his, loving the feel of his warm, strong fingers curling around hers.

Ginny, Dean and Ron looked on, a little surprised, and yet not surprised. Ginny stood up wordlessly, jerking her head at Ron who frowned at her. She lifted her hand in the universal “come here” gesture.

It took a few seconds, but it sank in and Ron, after a last glance at Harry and Hermione, pushed himself upright and quietly padded from the room behind Ginny and Dean.

Harry and Hermione barely registered the departure of their companions and their softly spoken “good nights”, returning them absentmindedly.

Hermione, her cheeks warmed by more than the fire, looked down at their clasped hands.

`It took so long to find it - the solution,' she whispered, `I began to think I'd never manage it. That we'd never be able to see each other again.'

`But you did it,' said Harry, `and I, for one, am not surprised Hermione; if anyone could get to the bottom of it, it's you.'

Hermione laughed, lifting her gaze to meet Harry's. `I wasn't going to let him win,' she said quietly, but fiercely, `no matter how long it took.'

`I knew he wouldn't,' said Harry simply as he relaxed his hand so that he held her open hand in his and began brushing his thumb gently across her palm.

Hermione steeled herself against the shivers Harry's caress sent through her whole body, closing her eyes in order to concentrate. Harry's being nice…Harry's being sweet and gentle…Harry's being Harry...

`Hermione?'

The sound of her name, to her ears, was like an endearment falling from his lips and she found it hard to tighten her resolve to wait until afterwards before…Before what? she wondered. Before feeling certain enough about the future to begin things with Harry, that's what. And it is just the beginning… and a beginning is a delicate time…where had she read that? She couldn't remember, but she wanted to tread carefully, just in case. No need to rush, not now…

`Mmmmm?' she managed, her eyes still closed.

Harry looked across at her - her face so composed despite her inner turmoil, the suggestion of a smile about her lips, her eyes closed. What should he say? He couldn't say what he'd like to - he was sure she'd just stare at him as though he was quite mad before turning and leaving, something he couldn't risk her doing ever again, not in any form.

Harry spoke, his voice deep and sombre. `I don't want there to ever be a long time between us seeing each other, and Ron, ever again. Not for any reason.'

Hermione opened her eyes then and found Harry's intense green gaze fixed on her. `We'll be able to see each other whenever we want, Harry, I promise. We've found each other again and after this week, we won't ever lose each other again. Not now.' Her voice held steely determination.

`I know we won't,' said Harry, keeping his voice low, his eyes boring into hers. `I don't intend ever letting you go again.'

And that little sentiment, spoken by him, did indescribable things to her heart-rate. Oh, Harry! If you only knew how much that means to me…

`Come on,' she said a little breathlessly, withdrawing her hand from Harry's as she stood up, stretching to hide her face and mask the effect he had on her, `let's go to bed - I'm really tired.'

As he followed her up the stairs to the second floor landing, Harry took this golden opportunity, presented unexpectedly, to let his eyes wander over Hermione from head to foot and back again without fear of being caught. An unseen grin lit up his face at the irony of her turn of phrase. “Let's go to bed”…oh Hermione, how I wish we could! How I wish we could…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note

Here's a little excerpt from Chapter Four just for fun!

`Ronald!' cried Luna happily, waving. `How are you?'

`Oh, just bloody great,' said Ron sarcastically. `My arse is drenched and bloody sore, I think I've cracked my tailbone and I've just lost my dignity in front of - well, in front of people…' he finished lamely, eyeing Luna's glaring polar bear hat with trepidation, sure that it had just snarled at him; it brought back vivid memories of the lion's head hat she'd worn at Hogwarts.

See you Friday sometime! xoxoxo

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Author's Note

I hope you don't mind too much, dear readers, that this chapter is basically a fluffy introduction of a few tiny tidbits of information whilst also allowing Luna to saunter into the picture and bring Neville on board…and hopefully leave you feeling warm and fuzzy at the end! (I don't like to rush things!)

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER FOUR

Hermione's Up Next

As she woke, rubbing her eyes, Hermione wondered for a fleeting second where she was; then she remembered: the Burrow. Fred and George's old room, to be precise. With Harry across the landing. She rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. Harry. Two syllables. One name. A name she'd been familiar with for more than half her life. A name she'd spoken more times than could be counted. Had thought about times out of mind. Harry. Harry James Potter. I don't often think of his full name, she mused. He's Harry. Just Harry. That's all he'd ever wanted, but of course that wasn't to be…

Memories she'd held at bay for years rushed in on her as though being sucked irresistibly into the void created by a vacuum. She felt herself spinning around in a whirlpool made up of numerous images, snatches of conversation and myriad feelings as she lay there, helplessly enthralled by them all...

There were lightning flashes of memory…their first year, the troll…Wingardium Leviosa! Their friendship sealed… Their second year, the Polyjuice Potion…the Basilisk…Gilderoy Lockhart (she groaned inwardly with embarrassment)… Their third year was the most amazing and complicated - and the most rewarding. The time turner. And Harry had found Sirius. He found his godfather as well as his godfather's innocence. And Wormtail, along with his guilt. The spectre of the Dark Lord looming. And then the Goblet of Fire. Never to be forgotten. Cedric. Never to be forgotten. Voldemort reborn. Their fifth year. This year held Harry's worst tragedy: the loss of Sirius. Then there was Umbridge. Hermione still felt a lurking hatred snaking through the depths of her heart for that particular woman. Hagrid. Grawp. …who, to this day, knows me as Hermy! Their sixth year…their upside down, turmoil-ridden sixth year… you're more fanciable than ever… as indeed he was… the Horcruxes… the loss of Dumbledore… the horror that had been their seventh year… all the memories seemed to move faster and faster…they blurred…and in the end all that mattered was that they were once more together… And now, if only - but she stopped her thoughts there; they now had all the time in the world…she could be patient for just a little longer…

As the memories slowly dispersed, like wisps of fog in the warm sunshine, Hermione sighed happily as she lay snuggled under the duvet, peering out the window at the crisp, blue sky. She knew it was going to be a beautiful day; maybe they'd all go skating on the pond…she and Harry. Harry and me. She smiled, wriggling with delicious anticipation. How glad she was about that little tweak she'd given the potion to dispel awkwardness - it made them all feel as though the past five years had evaporated, as though they'd never been and didn't matter. She giggled, feeling ridiculously happy. And they don't matter anymore. Not now. We've won. Those years are behind us now and we're going to concentrate on the future - with all of us together again.

Ron's Up Last…of course…

Ron didn't stir until after everyone else was up and already in the kitchen, sipping tea and enjoying a delicious, hot breakfast. As he squinted at the bright sunlight pouring through his window, he realised firstly that he was ravenous (this is Ron we're talking about, after all) and secondly, that he hadn't felt this - this - good! - for a long time. He grinned at nothing in particular before throwing off his duvet and pulling on the jeans and jumper he'd worn the previous day (this is Ron, remember?), pushing his feet into his trainers and going down the stairs two at a time, landing at the bottom with his grin still in place as he looked around the room.

`Morning!' he greeted everyone. Arthur peered out from behind the Daily Prophet to return the greeting. Molly, sitting with her elbow on the table, a cup of tea in one hand, an old, rather tatty quill in her other as she wrote what Ron supposed was a shopping list, said absentmindedly, `Morning, dear,' while Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Dean chorused `Good morning!' They all watched, smiling, as Ron spied the empty seat between Harry and Ginny and almost sprinted, barely sitting down properly before he immediately began to pile bacon and eggs onto his plate.

`No sausages?' he asked, aggrieved, buttering some toast.

You're too slow, Ron,' said Ginny, `we've eaten them all. They were delicious.' She grinned mischievously.

`Oh that's just great, no bangers,' he grumbled as he took a bite of his toast. `I really felt like some this morning.'

Hermione, sitting the other side of Harry, clicked her tongue and spearing the lone sausage on her plate with her fork, leaned across in front of Harry and deposited it on Ron's plate.

`There, you can have mine,' she told Ron, exasperation in her voice, while Harry laughed.

`Now that's a sign of true friendship!' cried Ron, smiling at Hermione as he lifted his goblet of pumpkin juice in a silent toast to her.

Ginny tried to laugh, but since she'd just taken a bit of her toast, she began to choke on it, causing Dean to begin patting her vigorously on the back. `Only my brother Ron would equate food with friendship,' she managed between coughs.

`Speaking of friendship,' said Dean quietly once Ginny's choking fit had passed, `are we ever going to find out what happened with the three of you? And why you've suddenly agreed to get together again?'

For just a second a stunned silence descended, everyone sitting frozen in the middle of whatever it was they'd been doing - Ron with his laden fork halfway to his mouth; Hermione in the process of cutting up her remaining bacon; Harry chewing his toast; both Ginny and Molly with teacups halfway to their mouths while the Daily Prophet Arthur was reading ceased its soft, constant rustling.

Dean moved first, looking around the table at everyone.

`What?' he asked, genuinely puzzled; he'd thought that now everything seemed fine between them once more, the trio would be open to talking about what had happened.

`Fair question,' said Harry after swallowing his toast and giving Dean a lopsided grin.

Hermione put her knife and fork down and brought her serviette to her lips, dabbing at them before agreeing with Harry.

Ron, of course, continued eating and couldn't do anything more than nod in agreement with Harry and Hermione since his mouth was full to capacity.

The Daily Prophet seemed to vanish beneath the table as Arthur joined the conversation. `So, finally, is it? I can't wait to hear this story.'

Molly and Ginny, still sipping their tea, remained silent, simply waiting to see what would be said.

When Harry seemed to gather himself to speak, Hermione placed her hand on his arm. `May I?' she asked softly.

Harry nodded. `Of course,' he told her, while wondering what she was going to say and glad to hand the reins to her as he'd no idea what to say himself.

Hermione cleared her throat gently before speaking.

`We know it's been hard all this time for everyone, not knowing, especially our families…' her voice trailed off as she thought of how hard it had also been for her, Harry and Ron. Then gathering herself once more, she continued.

`It's not actually over yet,' she told them, `and if Harry and Ron agree, I'd like to wait until it is before we tell you everything.' She glanced at Harry and Ron, both of whom nodded in agreement; they were content to follow her lead. Looking back at the others, she smiled. `You see, Wednesday is the night of the full moon - and that's the night that we have to - well, that's the night we'll be working on the solution to our problem. And if it's successful -' Hermione heard Harry's whispered, `It will be!' and gave him a fleeting smile, `- then on Thursday we can all sit down and we'll tell you our story.'

Ginny groaned, dropping her head into her hands, making Dean chuckle while Arthur and Molly exchanged a look that said they were both thinking the same thing: Hermione had said “if it's successful”. If.

Arthur took Molly's hand, patting it reassuringly as he spoke. `Well, I think that's fair enough, although Ginny appears to be suffering a severe bout of impatience!' Arthur laughed as his daughter looked up and rolled her eyes. `Thursday!' she exclaimed. `It's only Monday! I've been dying of curiosity for five years and I still have to wait!

`I'll bet it's a story worth waiting for,' Dean told her consolingly.

`That it is,' said Harry so that only Ron and Hermione could hear him clearly, `that it is.'

Ron Falls On His Arse and Luna Appears

After breakfast, the five younger ones left Arthur to the rest of his paper and Molly to her knitting as they set off for the pond, skates in hand. Sitting on the warmed bench conjured by Hermione, they put on their skates, jostling and elbowing each other - laughing and acting as though they were still school students and revelling in it. Ron was finished first and shortly after he'd made his way to the frozen pond, Harry was hit on the top of his bowed head with a snowball whilst bent over tying off his laces.

`Good shot!' called Dean to Ron, giving him the “thumbs up” as he too stood up and began to clump through the snow down to the ice, Ginny on his heels.

Harry looked over at Ron, a mock scowl on his face. `You wait, Weasley! You'll be sorry!' he yelled.

`No way!' called Ron in reply, laughing as he skated off.

Harry straightened up, turning to look at Hermione who had also finished and was sitting, watching Dean and Ginny as they sailed gracefully around the edge of the pond.

`Want to team up?' he asked her, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Hermione turned and grinned at him. `Is that fair? Two against one?'

`Well, it won't quite be like two against one, really…' said Harry, trying hard to look disarmingly innocent and failing miserably.

Hermione swiped Harry on the arm.

`You don't have to say it! I know what you're thinking Harry! “Hermione couldn't hit the side of the Knight Bus if it was standing still”, so it's not really two against one at all!'

Harry waggled his eyebrows at her, grinning. `You remember that, do you?'

Hermione laughed. `How could I forget that particular insult? Delivered just about every Christmas at school as I recall. And I remember an even worse insult: Ron saying I could side with you because I'd be a liability not an asset!' Hermione pretended to frown, her eyes dancing merrily. `In fact, I think Ron's insult was definitely worse than yours so yes, I'll team up with you! And be ready, Harry - I've learnt a few things over the last few years,' she finished mysteriously.

As it turned out, Hermione had learnt a new spell, one of hundreds that she'd mastered in the last five years. It gave her snowballs unerring aim, much to Ron's disgust and Harry's delight, who demanded to know why she hadn't known about that spell while they were at Hogwarts. Ginny and Dean had remained at the far side of the pond, well out of the way of the snow fight, which they nevertheless watched with great enjoyment, Ginny shrieking with delight each time a snowball found its' mark. It took only ten short minutes before Ron surrendered, leaving his position by a small embankment at the edge of the pond, his hands in the air, his breath frosting as he laughed.

Harry and Hermione, stationed on the opposite bank to Ron, shook hands (as well as they could given they were both wearing thick gloves) and congratulated each other as Ron glided towards them, Ginny and Dean not far behind him. Harry, however, didn't release Hermione's hand when they'd finished shaking, but stood there, looking down at her, his eyes alight with amusement and happiness.

`Still a formidable team,' he said softly, his eyes fixed on her face, taking in her sparkling golden brown eyes, the lovely curve of her lips as she smiled and the soft glow of her skin, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink from exertion.

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes glistened with tears, although she was still smiling.

`Oh, Harry - it just feels so wonderful to be with you - and Ron - and everyone - again!'

Letting go of her hand, Harry held out his arms and Hermione leaned forward into his embrace, one step bringing her up against him as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She turned her head and laid it against his chest. She was very aware of his heart beat, thumping steadily beneath his warm jacket, just as she was aware of her own quickening pulse at the feel of his arms around her, at the wonderful smell of him. Harry dropped his chin to rest on the softness of the woollen beanie she wore, his eyes closed, aware for the moment only of the feel of Hermione in his arms and the sensation of having her arms wound tightly around him.

`Oy, get a load of that, they're at it again,' whispered Ron as Ginny and Dean caught up with him. He needn't have said anything because they'd been watching, too.

`Remind you of something, love?' asked Dean, smiling down at Ginny.

Ginny smiled back. `Us,' she replied, her voice soft and tender.

They both turned and looked at Ron. He felt their eyes on him and returned the look, asking, `What?'

`Well,' said Ginny succinctly, `we assume this is all right with you?' She indicated Harry and Hermione with a sweep of her hand.

Ron's face became suddenly uncharacteristically serious and Ginny and Dean looked at each other in alarm.

`Ron? Are you all right?' asked Ginny, reaching up to put her hand on his shoulder.

Ron's eyes were unfocused and his mind was clearly somewhere else. Ginny, her hand still resting on his shoulder, shook him slightly.

`Ron!'

Ron seemed to hear her this time, shaking his head as he turned to look down at her.

Ginny watched as his eyes slowly focused on her.

`Everything'll be all right after Wednesday,' he said, his voice hoarse. `I have every confidence in Hermione.'

Having said this, Ron skated off towards Harry and Hermione, who had pulled apart and were heading for the edge of the pond, waving at Ron, Ginny and Dean, obviously intending to join their friends on the ice.

Perhaps because his thoughts were elsewhere, perhaps because he wasn't really looking where he was going, but whatever the cause, Ron's feet suddenly went out from under him and his arms started wheeling frantically in the air as he tried to remain upright. Hermione and Harry, Ginny and Dean all stopped and held their breath. Then, in those few short seconds whilst they watched Ron's desperate attempt to regain his balance, another figure appeared behind the bench Hermione had conjured, just in time to see Ron lose his battle with gravity and land squarely on his arse with a very loud exclamation of pain followed by a rather nasty swear word.

Instantly, a scream of mirth split the air and all heads turned to the source.

`Who's that?' asked Harry, automatically expecting Hermione to have the answer.

`I wouldn't have a clue - no, wait! Well, for crying out loud, I believe it's Luna Lovegood!' exclaimed Hermione, still looking back over her shoulder.

It was indeed Luna Lovegood and as she walked towards them, still laughing mightily, Harry also recognised the blue-eyed, blonde-haired girl he'd not seen for five years.

Ginny and Dean had reached Ron, who was sitting with his gloved hands splayed on the ice behind him, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His face went as red as a beetroot when they heard Luna laugh and they all looked up, surprised by the sound.

`Well, for Pete's sake, it's Loony Lovegood!' exclaimed Dean, unaware of the censorious glance given him by his wife.

`Luna Lovegood!' Ginny corrected him firmly as they leaned down and grasped Ron's arms to help him to his feet.

`Luna Lovegood?' repeated Ron, gazing towards the strangely attired figure that was now standing with Harry and Hermione and chatting animatedly by all appearances.

Hermione and Harry had smiled at Luna as she walked awkwardly up to them, wearing what looked like a couple of tennis racquets tied to her trainers and some sort of miniature snowdrift for a hat.

`Luna, hi!' said Hermione, `Long time, no see! What on earth are you doing in this neck of the woods?'

Luna waved at Ginny, Dean and Ron as they struggled towards the shore, then smiled at Harry and Hermione in turn.

`Just sort of walking and Apparating around, checking out the countryside. I've moved back home, you know - it's not too far away, you know.'

Harry and Hermione didn't know, really, but they refrained from saying so.

`It's good to see you again,' said Harry, `How've you been?'

Luna turned and looked at him, the snowdrift on top of her head revealing itself to be a polar bear which growled at him, causing Harry to take a step backwards.

`Not too bad, thank you, Harry. Better than you, I think, since you and your friends have been avoiding each other for all these years.'

Hermione put her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to smother a fit of giggles; Luna was as strangely blunt as ever!

Luna turned to Hermione. `Is it funny, then?' she asked. `That would be better than if it was something, you know, serious.'

Hermione immediately stopped laughing and gave Luna an appraising look. `Actually, it was serious, Luna. But I think we've found a way to get around it, thank Merlin.'

Luna nodded. `Good,' she murmured, before turning her gaze to watch as Dean and Ginny assisted Ron to the edge of the pond.

`Ronald!' cried Luna happily, waving. `How are you?'

`Oh, just bloody great,' said Ron sarcastically. `My arse is drenched and bloody sore, I think I've cracked my tailbone and I've just lost my dignity in front of - well, in front of people…' he finished lamely, eyeing Luna's glaring polar bear hat with trepidation, sure that it had just snarled at him; it brought back vivid memories of the lion's head hat she'd worn at Hogwarts.

Ginny was also eyeing Luna's hat and laughed as she said, `Come on, Ron, you'll be fine. Come and sit on Hermione's heated bench - dry your bum off.'

So while Ron sat, steam rising around him in a great cloud as he removed his skates, Luna told them she'd only recently come home to be with her dad who lived nearby. She said she'd been told by Fred and George, during a visit to Hogsmeade, that some of her old school-mates would be at the Burrow should she wish to drop in and see them.

`So, Ronald, are you dry yet? And why on earth did you sit down on the ice like that?' she asked, her large blue eyes fixed on him, unblinking.

Ron glared at first then his face slowly broke into a smile. `I just fell arse over head,' he stated baldly, realising he must have made quite a sight. 'There was no sitting involved whatsoever!'

Luna threw back her head and laughed. `Never mind, that can happen to anyone!' she managed to gasp.

`I just wish it didn't happen to me,' muttered Ron, stealing amused glances at Luna. Especially not in front of you, he thought to himself.

Luna, standing in front of Ron as a light mist continued to swirl around his nether regions, held out her hand to him, saying, `Come with me, Ronald. I'll walk you home and tell you about Neville.'

Ron took Luna's proffered hand and hoisted himself to his feet. With his skates dangling from his hand, he looked thoroughly confused as he repeated blankly, `Neville?'

Luna put her hands on her hips and stared at him in amazement. `Neville Longbottom, of course. Your friend.'

Ron, once again red in the face, nodded. `Yeah, I knew that, Neville. Of course. I have seen him a few times since school, although not for a while now.'

Luna nodded, unmindful of his discomfiture. “He misses you all,' she said as they stepped out together on the path that led back to the Burrow.

Ginny, Dean, Hermione and Harry exchanged amused looks as they sat to remove their skates, Ron and Luna's voices becoming fainter as they got further away.

`Perhaps we should ask Neville and Luna for Thursday,' said Hermione unexpectedly.

`What?' chorused the other three, sounding very surprised at this announcement.

Hermione gave a self-deprecating shrug. `Well, it just sort of feels right - Neville and Luna were always ready to help. It would be nice to see them again,' said Hermione thoughtfully, her gaze fixed on the retreating figures of Ron and Luna.

As they all stood up, Hermione drew her wand and Vanished the bench before they all set off, Dean and Ginny going ahead, Harry and Hermione following closely behind; Harry had obligingly “sent” their skates home so they didn't have to worry about carrying them.

`Hermione, what made you think of inviting Neville and Luna to be there?' Harry asked quietly.

Hermione threw him an odd look as she shrugged. `It really is just a feeling - I'm not sure what's at the bottom of it, but - well, I guess I'm trusting my instincts. It just seems the right thing to do. I hope Mrs Weasley doesn't mind,' she finished, a slight frown creasing her brow.

`I'm sure she won't,' said Harry, intrigued by a Hermione who had those sort of “feelings” and “trusted her instincts”. `What about your parents?' he asked, `shouldn't they come on Thursday too?'

Hermione shook her head. `I was thinking I'd rather go and visit them, perhaps on Friday, and tell them about everything. What do you think?'

`You know your parents best, Hermione. Do you think they'd mind if I came with you?'

Hermione stopped and looked at him, a small smile in place. `And why would you want to do that?'

`Isn't that what friends are for?' countered Harry, grinning.

Hermione laughed as she set off once more. `I suppose it is! Of course you can come, I'm positive Mum and Dad wouldn't mind. I'll owl them tonight.' And I certainly won't mind! thought Hermione happily.

She didn't speak again after that and as they walked, she appeared to be deep in thought; Harry, not for the first time in his life, was left wondering what on earth Hermione could be thinking about…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note

I've actually had trouble breaking this story up into reasonably equal-sized chapters which is really why you've had this little “fill-in” chapter…Chapter Five is half as long again as this chapter (which is why I didn't post them as one chapter) and I'm planning on actually uploading it tomorrow (Saturday) in a sneaky attempt to keep your interest…*grins* So till tomorrow, dear and faithful readers! Oh, and here's an excerpt, to whet your appetites:

At five minutes to ten, with Hermione, Ron, Dean and Ginny behind him, Harry pushed open the door of The Three Broomsticks. They were immediately struck by the warm air, redolent with delicious aromas and the happy hum of inconsequential chatter. As those closest to the door looked up and saw Harry Potter with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley entering closely behind him, silence spread rapidly across the room and in no time at all, you could hear a pin drop...

As the door slowly swung shut behind Ginny and Dean, Harry turned and looked at Ron and Hermione, a rueful grin on his face. `I'm a bit of an idiot, then, aren't I?' he said under his breath, `I didn't even give a thought to what would happen if the three of us turned up like this.'

A quiet, purposeful murmuring, very different from the cheery sound that had first greeted them, gradually took the place of the stunned silence; every eye in the room inexorably fixed on the five figures standing inside the door.

`Oy! Harry - you lot! Over here!'

Harry looked across the room to see Neville Longbottom standing and waving, Luna beside him, also waving.

“See” you sometime tomorrow! Janie xoxo

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Author's Note

I couldn't help myself - I just had to “visit” Hogwarts - hope you don't mind! *grins* (How I wish I REALLY could!) So enjoy this chapter - the last, totally fluffy one for a couple of chapters…the next chapter is when it all begins…

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER FIVE

Onion Soup and Invitations

After stamping the snow from their feet, Harry, Hermione, Dean and Ginny walked into the welcome warmth of the Burrow's kitchen, sniffing appreciatively at the delicious aroma of Mrs Weasley's onion soup wafting through the air. As they removed their hats, gloves, scarves and cloaks and hung them up, they noticed Ron and Luna already sitting at the kitchen table, both with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. They grinned at each other when they spotted the bemused expression Ron was wearing; he was listening to Luna's patient explanation of her reasons for tying tennis racquets to her shoes.

`They are what Muggles call snow shoes, as they can't use magic to get through snow the way we do,' she finished, although Ron's expression made it clear he was no wiser.

Noticing Luna's hat perched beside the fireplace looking very disgruntled, Ginny laughed, `Luna, I love your hat! A polar bear, isn't it?' she asked as she took a seat next to her former schoolmate. Perhaps it didn't like compliments because as Ginny spoke, the bear growled, sounding distinctly unhappy. Luna got up and moved to pick up the effigy, taking it across the room and putting it gently on a small table by the back door; Hermione could've sworn she heard a contented snuffle come from the polar bear. Every face showed bewilderment as Luna turned to walk back to the table. `Yes, it is a polar bear, Ginevra. He was too warm there by the fire,' she explained airily, `and polar bears don't like to be too warm.'

Ginny and Hermione both managed to smother their giggles, while Dean and Harry both coughed to cover their laughter.

Later, after they'd all downed healthy helpings of Mrs Weasley's steaming onion soup and warm, fresh bread, Ginny and Hermione helped her clean up, enabling Hermione to ask Molly about inviting Neville and Luna to join them on Thursday for dinner.

As Harry had predicted, Mrs Weasley had no objections at all. `You may not have seen them much since school, but if Luna's anything to go by, I can't imagine Neville will have changed much either and he was always a wonderful friend, wasn't he? And two more mouths to feed is nothing,' prompting Ginny to comment under her breath to Hermione, `I think Mum just thinks the more to feed, the merrier!'

Meanwhile, Harry was asking Ron, Dean and Luna whether they'd be interested in visiting Hogwarts with him the following day. `Thought you might be interested in revisiting our old stomping ground,' he told them with a grin, `with the added bonus of the presence of a Professor who's on your side!'

The idea was greeted enthusiastically by all of them as well as Ginny and Hermione who'd had Harry's suggestion repeated to them on returning to the table. After she and Ginny had happily agreed to the idea, Hermione glanced at Harry who lifted his eyebrows inquiringly. When Hermione smiled and nodded, Harry knew it meant Mrs Weasley had said yes when asked about Luna and Neville coming. It warmed his heart to realise that their unspoken understanding of each other didn't appear to have diminished despite the years apart.

`I've just thought of something,' said Harry, looking at Luna, `would you and Neville like to come over this Thursday? We're all getting together for dinner,' he finished, deciding not to elaborate too much for now on the reason for the get together. Luna had been delighted by both invitations and left for home shortly afterwards to owl Neville. `He's moved to London - he's got a job at the Ministry of Magic,' she told them. `I'll Floo you as soon as I hear from him.'

After Luna left, Dean and Ginny Flooed to Dean's parents' home to visit them and have afternoon tea. Harry and Ron were just about to settle down to a game of wizard's chess (Ron wearing a smug expression as he had no doubts about beating Harry just as he'd always done), when Hermione asked them to join her in her room.

As a result, instead of enjoying a game of chess, Harry and Ron spent a couple of hours revising Hermione's notes with her and practising the recitation of the long incantation they would be using. They went over and over it at Hermione's insistence; she didn't want to take any chances that some tiny little detail which could prove to be crucial might be overlooked…

Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

Luna had Flooed the previous night to tell them Neville would be delighted to make the trip to Hogwarts; she and Neville would meet up with them all at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade at ten o'clock the next morning.

When they arrived, Hermione commented that Hogsmeade looked as though it should be on a Christmas card; soft, rounded drifts of fresh snow were piled up each side of the street and glittering icicles adorned the edges of all the shopfront roofs.

At five minutes to ten, with Hermione, Ron, Dean and Ginny behind him, Harry pushed open the door of The Three Broomsticks. They were immediately struck by the warm air, redolent with delicious aromas and the happy hum of inconsequential chatter. As those closest to the door looked up and saw Harry Potter with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley entering closely behind him, silence spread rapidly across the room and in no time at all, you could hear a pin drop...

As the door slowly swung shut behind Ginny and Dean, Harry turned and looked at Ron and Hermione, a rueful grin on his face. `I'm a bit of an idiot, then, aren't I?' he said under his breath, `I didn't even give a thought to what would happen if the three of us turned up like this.'

A quiet, purposeful murmuring, very different from the cheery sound that had first greeted them, gradually took the place of the stunned silence; every eye in the room was inexorably fixed on the five figures standing inside the door.

`Oy! Harry - you lot! Over here!'

Harry looked across the room to see Neville Longbottom standing and waving, Luna beside him, also waving.

Harry raised his hand in recognition as they began to weave their way through the tables towards Neville and Luna, all heads turning in unison as they followed the progress of the Trio and their friends across the room

Neville had remained standing and eagerly thrust out his hand as Harry reached him, a huge grin on his face.

`Harry! It's great to see you again!' He let go of Harry's hand and reached for Ron's. `You too, Ron! How've you been? And Hermione!' Hermione ignored Neville's outstretched hand and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him instead, his startled expression visible to everyone over Hermione's shoulder. Everyone laughed and Harry shrugged as he caught Neville's eye. `Hermione, mate - she hugs!' he told an abashed-looking, pink-eared Neville.

`Then I'll hug him, too,' said Ginny happily and did just that before Dean and Neville shook hands, Neville's ears an even brighter pink after Ginny released him.

Everyone greeted Luna warmly, the dreamy-eyed blonde looking rather pleased with herself, as though she was responsible for this little reunion.

`Would you like a cuppa before we head off to Hogwarts?' asked Neville, looking around at them all.

`Not for me, thanks, I'm fine,' said Harry, turning to look inquiringly at the others, all of whom also shook their heads. Harry turned back to Neville. `We all had some tea before we left the Burrow, so as long as you and Luna are finished, we may as well go.'

Neville picked up his cup and drained it, then smiled at everyone. `I'm ready!'

`I think,' said Luna, amusement evident in her voice, `the sooner we leave the better, before everyone here suffers a severe attack of Nuffle Swivellers.'

No one could prevent a look of stunned puzzlement showing on their face at this pronouncement.

Luna sighed as she said patiently, `You know, Nuffle Swivellers - they grow on the bones of your neck if you keep turning and swivelling your head too often - and no one has stopped doing just that since you lot walked in here. If they're not careful, there'll be an epidemic!'

As everyone made understanding noises to cover the fact they were repressing laughter, they all turned, smiling broadly, and headed for the door, no longer able to stifle their merriment when they saw that every head was indeed, “turning and swivelling” to follow their departure.

Neville, the last one out, pulled the door shut, still laughing.

`Sorry everyone,' he apologised, `I didn't give a thought to the effect the sudden appearance of the Trio would have on everyone in there! I was too busy thinking about how much I was looking forward to seeing you all again!'

`Don't worry, mate,' laughed Ron, `we were in the same boat! I don't think any of us ever really got used to the attention and recognition.'

As they all followed the well-remembered path that lead to Hogwarts, they spent the time talking, catching up with each other. Neville also plied the Trio with questions - the same questions everyone wanted answers to. Hermione, once again, explained that Thursday would be the day they would be able to explain to everyone.

`I'm happy to wait, then,' said Neville good-naturedly. `As for now, I'm just going to enjoy your company as well as this proverbial stroll down memory lane,' he finished, indicating Hogwarts - which was getting closer by the minute - with a wave of his hand.

When they reached the gates, it was to find them standing open between the two tall pillars, the winged boars atop each one looking, thought Hermione with a grin, almost happy. I don't remember the gates ever being left open before, she thought. Such a feeling of security was never possible when we were at school with the shadow of Voldemort looming over our lives.

Their chatter and laughter must have carried ahead of them because, before they reached the towering front doors of the castle, they were hailed by a familiar voice and turned as one to see Hagrid striding across the grounds towards them, his face shining with sheer joy at the sight of them.

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned immediately and began to walk towards the huge Keeper of the Keys, who didn't even take a small step backwards as the three of them fell against him, his huge arms encircling them all.

`What's this, then?' he asked, his voice sounding a little strange, as though he was choking. Hermione looked up, only to have a huge tear fall plop! onto her cheek, followed by another, then another - Hagrid was crying!

Hermione laughed. `It's us, Hagrid! Just us!'

Hagrid grabbed Hermione in a huge hug, lifting her feet from the ground. `Hermione! Yeh haven't changed one bit!' he exclaimed as he put her down and peered at her.

`His eyesight must be going,' muttered Ron to Harry, who looked back at Ron, lifting his eyebrows inquiringly.

Ron rolled his eyes. `Don't tell me you haven't noticed!' he exclaimed. `I reckon living in France has done something to her!'

Harry laughed, his gaze moving to Hermione who was busy dabbing at Hagrid's cheeks, wiping his tears away with her handkerchief, which was really far too small to do an effective job. `Yeah, I've noticed,' admitted Harry quietly. I've noticed every single little thing…

Hermione turned back to them, looking a little misty-eyed herself as she wrung out her handkerchief before pulling out her wand to dry it off. Ron grabbed Hagrid's huge hand with both his and was almost lifted off the ground and knocked over at the same time as Hagrid vigorously shook his hand and simultaneously patted him on the back.

`Ron! So good ter see yeh again! An' Neville? Tha' you? An' Dean Thomas? S'good ter see yer both, too!' Neville and Dean were treated to the same vigorous handshaking and backslapping as Ron while Luna and Ginny received hugs that left them breathless.

`Now, `Harry, what's goin' on?' boomed the gigantic gamekeeper, `How come Ron an' Hermione are with yeh again? Yeh finally goin' ter tell me wha' happened?'

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances before Harry spoke. `Hagrid, as you know, we've had problems, but Hermione's found a solution. We should be fine now. I can tell you everything soon.' Harry simplified the story, planning on filling in his friend and fellow professor at a later date; he didn't think any amount of magic could extend the Burrow's kitchen enough to fit Hagrid inside.

`Righ' yeh are, then,' said Hagrid happily, `I'll keep yer ter that! Now, how come yer all here? This is the last day o' term an' all the students'll be leavin' tonigh'. Wait! Yeh've come for the end-of-term feast, haven't yeh?' Hagrid laughed. `Don' blame yeh for that!'

Ron's eyes lit up. `The end-of-term feast? Harry, this is brilliant! We'll be able to stay, won't we?'

`I suppose so,' Harry said, but we'll have to let your mum know we won't be home for tea.'

`I'll do that for yeh, I've got a couple of owls to send anyway,' said Hagrid. `Now, fancy a visit to see Grawpy?'

Everyone looked at Harry who cleared his throat before speaking. `Well, erm, I'm afraid we'll have to pass on that, Hagrid - we really should see the Headmistress as soon as we can since I didn't tell her we were coming, or staying for the feast.'

Hagrid looked disappointed but answered with a smile, `Righ' yeh are, then. I'll tell `im yeh were here an' if yeh get a chance -'

`If we do, we'll come and see you straight away, Hagrid,' said Hermione brightly. Grawp was much improved since they'd first met him in their fifth year; however, he still had a few difficulties with the social niceties when he got too excited, something he always did when he saw Hermy…

`Well, I'll be off then, you lot. See yer at lunch!'

Assuring him they would, they took their leave of Hagrid, who headed back to his hut with a final wave.

As they walked through the tall oaken doors into the familiar Entrance Hall of Hogwarts, they all fell silent, each of them momentarily lost in their own thoughts and memories.

There were a few students wandering up and down the marble staircase and along the corridors, but they all seemed engrossed in their own conversations or thoughts. Initially, the party of seven walked almost unnoticed as they made their way to the Headmistress's office where, Harry assured them, they'd find Professor McGonagall.

`Ginger Newt,' said Harry, at which the gargoyle leapt aside and the wall slid apart to reveal the moving, spiral staircase.

When they reached the top, the door swung open just as Harry raised his hand to take the griffin knocker and Professor McGonagall stood in the door way, smiling at them all.

`Harry! I heard from Dobby you'd brought visitors - he spotted you talking to Hagrid; he always seems to know where you are. Come in, all of you, come in!'

As the Headmistress drew up chairs for all of them and then conjured a huge, laden tea tray, word was sent to the kitchens and to all the other teachers that there were special guests for the end-of-term feast that day. Harry twisted in his chair and looked at the portrait above the door, only to find an empty frame.

Professor McGonagall, following his eyes, told him that Professor Dumbledore had gone visiting and wouldn't be back for a couple of days.

`A couple of days?' Hermione couldn't help asking, curious.

`He actually went to the Ministry at the request of the Minister.' The Headmistress sighed. `It's never a short visit to the Ministry - once he's there, they just have him going from portrait to portrait, department to department…'

Neville coughed nervously. `His advice is rather valuable, Professor,' he offered quietly. Not to mention that he's just a sheer delight to talk to, he added to himself, especially since, not surprisingly, he's the first portrait subject to retain so much of his original personality and wit.

Professor McGonagall fixed him with a steady look. `Still working at the Ministry then, Mr Longbottom? Dumbledore has mentioned you.'

Neville nodded, `Law Enforcement.'

Nodding her approval, the Professor began pouring tea. `So, Professor Potter -' at which point Ron interrupted with a spluttered, `“Professor Potter?!”' drawing a quelling look from the Headmistress before she sniffed disapprovingly and continued, `you, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley are keeping company once more?'

Harry grinned at Hermione and Ron, `You could say that, Professor,' he replied.

`About time,' she said firmly, picking up a floral-patterned plate full of biscuits and holding it out. `Ginger Newt, anyone?'

Everyone sat and chatted amiably, Ron explaining to Harry that even though he knew Harry was teaching at Hogwarts, he'd just never realised it meant he would be Professor Potter. `Just doesn't sound like you, mate - “Professor”?' and he snorted with laughter again, causing Harry to roll his eyes with amused tolerance.

`What about “Professor Granger”?' he asked Ron, throwing Hermione a warm, amused look which made her breath catch in her throat.

`Well, that's different, isn't it?' said Ron with a grin. `I mean, Hermione is the professor type - and she was the same, even when she was a student!'

Half an hour later, tea drunk and biscuits eaten, they were ushered out of the Headmistress's office. `I have to get ready for the feast,' she told them, smiling. `Why don't you show them your rooms, Harry, and I'll see you all in the Great Hall in an hour.'

Hermione, more than anyone, was eager to see Harry's room, although she didn't say so out loud, of course. Dean and Ginny said they'd try and come by later as they wanted to visit the Gryffindor common room after being given the password by Professor McGonagall who'd almost (but not quite) managed to hide her indulgent expression from them on hearing their request.

As Ginny and Dean walked away, their arms around each other, Harry gave Ron and Hermione a quizzical look.

Ron grinned and shrugged. `They reckon that's where it all began for them.'

`And they wouldn't be the only ones,' said Harry, chuckling, glancing sideways at Hermione, his expression unreadable.

As they filed into Harry's room, Luna spotted Hedwig on her perch, watching them all inscrutably. `Oh, look, there's Hedwig! I always loved your owl, Harry! Almost as much as Ronald's.' She crossed straight to the white owl and began to talk to her softly, stroking her feathers. Hedwig gave her a sharply appraising look before appearing to decide that Luna was all right, despite the aspersions she felt were cast her way by Luna's preference for Pigwidgeon (of whom Hedwig still disapproved).

`You've a lovely view of the lake,' said Hermione, leaning on the stone sill of the large window in Harry's room as she gazed out at the expanse of water, sunlight dancing across its surface; the weather had been milder than usual for this time of year and it hadn't yet frozen over.

Ron stood behind her, leaning to look past Hermione. `You can see the Quidditch pitch,' he stated approvingly as though a view of the Quidditch pitch was far preferable to one of the Black Lake. Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling, then turned to find Harry's thoughtful gaze resting on her. He smiled when she caught his eye, a subtly intimate smile that sent a tingling warmth radiating throughout her entire body, right to her fingertips. Feeling just a little flustered, she moved across to his desk, smiling at the sight of the familiar teachers' accoutrements scattered across it. She reached out, tentatively touching the black leather cover of a book, her eyes widening as they travelled from the silver embossed title, “Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Definitive Definition”, down to the author's name: Harry J Potter.

She turned her head quickly to look for Harry, only to find him right behind her.

`You wrote a book? Harry, you wrote a book!'

`Don't sound so shocked,' said Harry, grinning, `I can read and write, after all.'

`Oh, I'm not shocked, I didn't mean - I know - it's just that -'

Harry couldn't help himself; he threw his head back and laughed. Hermione groaned, realising he was teasing her.

`Harry!' Hermione tried to scowl in admonishment but only ended up beaming at him, `I'm so proud of you!'

`What's up?' asked Ron, joining them.

`Hermione's in shock because I wrote a book,' he told Ron while winking at Hermione.

Ron picked up the book. `You wrote a book? This one? Wow, Harry - well done!'

`Thanks, although it's just a textbook and not exactly a bestseller.'

`Not true,' said Neville, joining them. `It's a bloody brilliant book - and it's required reading for each new trainee Auror. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it, Hermione. Don't they teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Beauxbatons?'

Hermione took the book from Ron, eagerly opening it, only half listening to Neville.

She shook her head. `Well, sort of…but just basic theory…no one's really interested anymore.'

`Really?' asked Harry, surprised. `My classes are always full - right up to NEWTs.'

Ron snorted and caught Neville's eye; both men laughed.

`Harry, haven't you ever realised that would be because of who is teaching it and not what is being taught?' Ron asked, amused exasperation in his tone.

Harry looked surprised and shook his head at Ron. He'd truly never considered that, assuming that everyone was as interested in learning to defend themselves against the Dark Arts as he was; just because Voldemort was gone didn't mean there weren't plenty of dark wizards and witches in the world.

Ron shook his head. `You're too bloody modest, mate. And I think you'd better get that off Hermione or she'll just stand there and read the whole thing right now!'

Hermione was standing, still reading and so engrossed she hadn't taken in one word of their conversation.

Harry grasped the book at the top and gently tugged at it, Hermione reflexively tightening her grip.

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron who laughed.

`Hermione, stop, please,' said Harry, `I'll give you your own copy if you like.' Harry tugged harder at the book this time and ducked his head down to try and catch Hermione's eye.

Hermione looked up at him, a slight frown creasing her forehead as she tightened her grip on the book. `Harry, what are you doing? I'm reading!'

`Not now, you're not,' said Harry firmly, finally pulling the book from her grasp and closing it before returning it to the desk. `I'll give you a copy, I promise, but right now I think we'd better get down to the Great Hall.' No one noticed as he waved his hand behind Hermione's back in a quick, complicated gesture, closing his eyes for a second as he concentrated…

`Of course, I forgot about lunch for a moment,' said Hermione, throwing a longing glance over her shoulder at the book as they all made for the door. Neville and Luna had left a minute earlier and as they followed, Ron and Harry made sure Hermione walked out in front of them, `Just to make sure she doesn't double back,' said Ron, grinning at Harry.

`I heard that,' said Hermione over her shoulder, sniffing indignantly. `Anyone would think I have no self control when it comes to books.'

Ron and Harry exchanged a look of amused scepticism before noisily clearing their throats.

`And don't think I can't tell when you're both smirking,' came the tart rejoinder.

`I feel as though we're back at school,' whispered Ron, Harry grinning in agreement.

As they descended the marble staircase to the Entrance Hall, Hermione spotted Dean and Ginny with Neville and Luna standing by the doors to the Great Hall, waiting for them. When Ginny waved at them all, two students turned to look as they passed through the doors into the Great Hall, stopping in their tracks when they spotted Harry. Both students, third year Gryffindors, turned and headed in Harry's direction, almost running as they called out.

`Professor Potter!'

Harry halted on the bottom step, Ron next to him, Hermione taking the last step; she heard Harry sigh resignedly and thought she knew why, seeing the twin looks of avid adoration on the young witches' faces.

Skidding to a halt in front of Harry, their cheeks flushed and their eyes shining, the two witches kept glancing at each other and couldn't seem to stop giggling.

`Yes, Miss Mason, what is it?' asked Harry patiently.

`Well, I - that is, we - were just wondering if you'll be at school for the Christmas holidays as usual?

Stifling the urge to laugh, Hermione interjected quickly, `No, not this year.'

Both the girls' faces fell and it was Harry who then had to stifle a laugh.

`Well, apparently not,' he said, raising his eyebrows at Hermione.

`Definitely not,' said Ron, Harry turning with a smile to look at him as he continued, `He'll be with his family and friends this year.'

It was only then that the two students really looked at Ron and Hermione, their eyes growing huge in their faces.

`Oh, my!' whispered the witch Harry had addressed as “Miss Mason”.

`It's them!' exclaimed her friend, her voice awed.

They both turned on their heels and ran, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione chuckling as they once more headed for the Great Hall, stopping briefly at the doors while Hermione explained to a curious Dean, Ginny, Luna and Neville what had just happened. Harry groaned at her description of the “smitten students” who obviously had a crush on their Professor.

`It appears as though you're a rather sexy professor, Harry!' said Ginny, laughing at Harry's discomfiture, which only increased when Hermione caught his eye, a half smile and arched eyebrow making it clear she agreed with Ginny's comment. Harry found himself torn between embarrassment and pleasure.

Apparently Miss Mason and her friend had told everyone they passed that they'd just seen the Trio and those people had in turn told others, because by the time Harry led his friends into the Great Hall, the room was awash with sibilant whispers, turning heads and craning necks.

`They'll want to watch out for those Nuffler Snufflers,' said Ron, acutely aware of hundreds of pairs of eyes scrutinising him.

`Nuffle Swivellers,' Luna corrected him quietly from behind.

A deep silence followed in their wake as they moved up the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, so that by the time they reached the teachers' table, you could've heard a pin drop.

Harry led them off to the left and around the end of the table to their seats, extra places having been set for them. Professor McGonagall had a small, restrained smile in place as she watched them. Once they were seated, she stood up and cleared her throat.

`At least there's no need to ask for silence today,' she said, her eyes twinkling. `As you can see, we have some guests with us today, all former students of Hogwarts and I don't doubt their names are known to you all. Commencing from the far end of the table we have Miss Luna Lovegood, Mr Neville Longbottom, Mrs Ginny Weasley Thomas and Mr Dean Thomas.'

There was an uprising of warm applause which, after a mere half minute, dropped off very suddenly in anticipation of the introductions yet to come.

Not one student had looked at their Headmistress while she'd addressed them - they couldn't take their eyes off Harry, Ron and Hermione who kept looking from the cloud strewn ceiling to Professor McGonagall to each other to avoid the sea of curious eyes gazing at them with an unsettling mixture of curiosity, zeal and awe.

Slowly, heads began to turn to look at Professor McGonagall, wondering why the introductions had ceased.

Once she felt she had the attention of the majority of the students, the Professor spoke again, `You know, of course, that it's rude to stare,' she said tartly although many swore they could see a mischievous glint in her eye. `Now, to continue; naturally, you all know our own Professor Potter and our last two guests today are his friends and former schoolmates, Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger, whom I'm also sure you've heard of previously.' To her credit, the Professor kept the irony in her voice to a minimum.

There was a couple of seconds of awestruck silence at this obvious understatement and then someone at the back of the Great Hall let out a long drawn out whistle; it contained such sincere amazement in every trembling note that it seemed to be the signal for everyone else to start clapping, cheering, whistling and calling out.

`Spare me,' whispered Harry feelingly as he gave Hermione an agonised look. Ron, on his other side, elbowed him, asking him if this was how he was greeted every time he came into the hall.

Harry laughed. `Thank Merlin, no!' he exclaimed. `I had them all bluffed until now - this is all the fault of you two!'

When Professor McGonagall finally brought the students back under control, she made her usual end of term speech before calling for the school song to be sung, feeling the occasion called for such a distinction.

Harry, Hermione and Ron - as well as Ginny, Dean, Neville and Luna - all joined in with gusto, needing only occasionally to refer to the words that appeared in the air in gold, flowing writing. As the last word was sung by the last student to finish, the Headmistress clapped her hands and cried out, `Time to eat!' and as always, a marvellous feast made its appearance which immediately brought silence with it as everyone became far too busy with eating to talk.

However, when the feast was finished, not one of the students seemed to be interested in leaving the hall, apparently too engrossed in watching the conversing teachers and guests as they lingered after the meal. Professor McGonagall commented to Harry, Ron and Hermione with an amused tone that perhaps they'd all better go or the students would simply sit at their house tables until they fell asleep, leaving the Hogwarts Express to depart Hogsmeade without a single passenger…

Hagrid accompanied them when, not long afterwards, they made their way to the Headmistress's office; it was here that Neville and Luna would Floo to their respective homes and everyone else back to the Burrow.

`I guess I'll see yeh after Christmas then, Harry?' asked Hagrid, `An' the rest of yeh make sure yer come back and visit again, won' yeh?'

After assurances of future visits, profuse thanks to Professor McGonagall for letting them join the end-of-term feast and hugs for Hagrid, they all departed, Harry last, giving Hagrid a wave and smile as he stepped into the green flames.

Back at the Burrow, Molly was eagerly waiting to hear all the details of their visit to Hogwarts and later, in spite of their protests that they weren't in the least bit hungry, Molly still insisted on cooking a chicken and ham pie and boiling some potatoes and carrots for tea. They were all very thankful she didn't insist on them eating any pudding.

Shortly afterwards, Dean and Ginny headed upstairs for bed, calling out good night to everyone in sleepy voices.

`I think I'll go as well,' said Ron, yawning hugely. `All that food - I think I'm full! I need to sleep it off!'

`You? Full?' scoffed Hermione, `I don't believe it!'

Ron gave her a mock-injured look and Hermione laughed. `You have to admit, Ron, that it's not very often we hear the words “I'm full” from you!'

Ron grinned back at them as he headed for the stairs. `Yeah, well I am - and I'm going to bed. Night you two!'

`What now?' asked Harry, smiling at Hermione who was watching Ron's retreating back. `Some tea?'

Hermione shook her head. `I honestly don't think I could fit in even so much as a mouthful of tea after that dinner! I might just stay up and read a little.' Hermione's eyes widened as she remembered something. `Harry! You forgot my book!' she exclaimed.

Harry waggled his eyebrows at her, grinning. `Nope. I didn't.'

Hermione looked at him, confused.

`It's in your room, on your bed.'

`But how? I didn't see you with a copy -'

`I sent it to you before we left my office,' Harry broke in. `It's on your bed, believe me.'

Hermione stared at him. `You sent it? You mean - it's just there? On my bed? Now?' she asked, a tinge of awe in her voice. Harry nodded and Hermione smiled in amazement. `Incredible, I still can't quite get used to that,' she murmured.

Harry shrugged, looking uncomfortable. `Not so hard,' he mumbled, acutely aware of the look of astonished admiration in Hermione's eyes. `Come on, let's go sit in front of the fire for a few minutes - it's nearly out anyway and then you can go and read to your heart's content.'

Hermione sat down on the couch in her habitual position with her legs curled under her, her left elbow resting on the end of the sofa, chin in hand; Harry extended his arms above his head as he yawned, then put his hands behind his head as he stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. They both stared into the dying fire, the soft hiss and crackle of wood the only sound in the room.

`You're thinking about tomorrow, aren't you?' asked Harry gently after a couple of minutes of warm, comfortable silence.

Hermione nodded, but said nothing, her free hand resting in her lap, fiddling with a seam in her jeans. `Do you think we should've worn robes to Hogwarts today?' she asked.

`What?' Harry turned to stare at her, watching as she shrugged. She'd released her hair from the loose bun she'd worn that day so that it tumbled down over her shoulders, almost to her lap; he found his fingers twitching with a sudden longing to touch it.

Drawing his feet in, Harry slid along the sofa, moving closer to Hermione, reaching out to lift her free hand from her lap and holding it, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb backwards and forwards across the back of it as he gazed into the crackling fire, oblivious to the effect his action was having on Hermione.

`You're not really worried about whether or not we wore robes to Hogwarts, Hermione. I know I've managed to keep tomorrow at the back of my mind during today - and Ron, too, I'm sure -'

Hermione turned her head slightly to look at him, the reflection of the flames dancing in her eyes. `You organised this trip today to keep us all distracted, didn't you? I just realised…'

Harry's mouth lifted on one side in a rueful grin. `Guilty,' he said. `But it did help, didn't it?'

Hermione's mouth slowly curved into a smile and she nodded. She squeezed his hand. `It did, thank you. But now -'

`Now,' interrupted Harry, `you need to get some sleep. We need to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.'

Hermione nodded again but didn't move, her eyes turning back to the fire. She felt reluctant to move away from the warmth of the fire or from the comfort of being curled up on the lounge in the quiet darkness of the house… or from Harry…

`Harry…'

`Sshh.'

Then she became aware of her hand being lifted and she turned startled eyes to watch as Harry brought it to his lips, firstly kissing the soft skin on the back of her hand, holding her gaze as he turned it over, bringing it to his lips once more and pressing them against the centre of her palm. The sensual gesture had her heart pounding so fast she could hardly breathe as she stared into the green depths of those eyes she knew so well…

Then he was gathering her into his arms, her feet slipping to the floor as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, his lips resting against her temple.

`It will be fine, Hermione,' my love, `I have complete faith in you, your ability and your knowledge - you are an amazing witch,' and a wonderful, beautiful woman, `with exceptional talents and power and that is why I know it will be fine,' and then, I will tell you something I've never had the chance to say before…

Hermione nodded against his chest, unable to speak, grateful for his closeness, his confidence, his words and his touch.

They remained like that for a few more minutes but the fire had died down and no longer shed much warmth; they reluctantly rose and went up to their rooms, Hermione smiling at the sight of the book on her bed. She picked it up, intending to put it on the bedside table, but instead found herself standing there and looking at it, still smiling. She ran her hand over the front cover, thinking about Harry. Then as her fingers found the edge, she lifted it. Her breath caught in her throat and a delicious warmth spread through her as she read the words written inside: To my one and only Hermione - Yours, Harry.

Author's Note

Chapter Six arrives by Express Owl on Monday! Here's a little preview…

When the sun finally deigned to rise, it wasn't until after the clock had chimed eight, the miniature version of Hagrid appearing on his platform with a sprightly step to happily clash his cymbals, drawing disgruntled glares which caused his smile to falter as he quickly retreated.

As though this was a signal of some sort, Ginny suddenly leapt from her seat as if electrified, her voice high-pitched and tight.

`It's been nine hours! Why haven't we heard from them? Where are they? Is there something wrong? What can we do? I feel so helpless!'

Molly looked once more at the family grandfather clock and on seeing Ron's hand finally stopped at “dreadful danger” she began to cry, tears running down her cheeks, sobs shaking her shoulders while Arthur did his best to comfort her. They need help! he thought desperately, wishing above all else that he knew where they were…

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Author's Note

Brrrr!!!! Getting a little colder, dear readers…*Janie hands out scarves and beanies* Don't be too afraid now…

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER SIX

Nerves and Knitting

Breakfast the next morning was a quiet affair in contrast to the two previous mornings. Whilst no one knew what it was the Trio would have to do that evening to “fix things”, they didn't think it could be anything other than difficult and complicated. After all, it had taken even the intrepid Hermione Granger this long to find the solution and the serious demeanour of the Trio as they sat around the table spoke volumes about the gravity of the situation.

After finishing breakfast, Mr Weasley Apparated to the Ministry for work and Harry, Ron and Hermione went for a walk, leaving Mrs Weasley, Ginny and Dean to discuss them in low tones.

With a fresh pot of tea on the table, they sat and talked, Mrs Weasley telling them of her fears for her son and his friends, pointing out Hermione's words, “if it's successful”, emphasising the “if”.

Dean shook his head. `I wouldn't worry, Mum. You know as well as we do that Hermione would never deliberately or knowingly risk hurting either Ron or Harry. I think she was just speaking cautiously - as Hermione tends to!'

Ginny nodded in agreement. `He's right, Mum. If Hermione says she's ready, she's ready. And she'll do it. They'll all do it.' Reaching out, Ginny covered her mother's hand with her own, giving it a reassuring pat.

It was a strange sort of day. Mrs Weasley spent most of her time knitting, another two pairs of needles flashing in the air either side of her; she was finishing the last of the jumpers she still gave as gifts at Christmas time. Dean and Ginny spent the day with Dean's parents. Since no one outside the Weasley and Granger families knew of the current situation with Harry, Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Dean were hoping the resulting lack of conversation about it would help keep their minds off the coming nights' events.

As for the Trio themselves, they spent the day poring over notes and in numerous repetitions of the incantation they would use that night. They had a short break for lunch, but even then Hermione brought a large, dusty volume to the table. She looked a little strained and apologised for reading at the table although no one begrudged her doing so. Her eyes skimmed the pages as she ate, occasionally murmuring to herself. Harry, Ron and Molly conversed in low tones, the two men doing their utmost to calm Molly's nervous fears, assuring her that she, too, should have complete confidence in Hermione, just as they did.

`I do, of course I do,' she said in anguished undertones, glancing at Hermione to make sure she couldn't hear, `it's just that there's always the chance that something unexpected will happen, something that will-'

`Mum,' broke in Ron, his tone reassuring, `Harry and I aren't exactly laggards, you know.'

Molly nodded in response, but her eyes remained full of unspoken fears.

`Mum,' said Ron firmly, keeping his voice low, `stop worrying about something that hasn't happened and probably won't.' He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently.

`Mrs Weasley, it'll be fine - we'll be fine,' said Harry firmly, `after all, this can't be as hard as defeating Voldemort and we managed that, didn't we?' Molly nodded, feeling a little more reassured but as Harry, Ron and Hermione once more retreated to Hermione's room for the afternoon, she felt her doubts return and was very grateful for the company when Ginny and Dean returned at four o'clock to help prepare dinner.

Nothing stops the march of time, of course, and before anyone knew it, dinner had been eaten, the dishes had washed themselves and everyone was sitting around pretending to listen to the wireless. At eleven o'clock, as the miniature Hagrid clumped out above the clock-face, yawning as he clashed his cymbals, Hermione rose from her seat, looking from Ron to Harry as they, too, stood up. An unusual, strangled sort of sound escaped Mrs Weasley. She had managed to appear reasonably cheerful all evening but as Harry, Ron and Hermione each gave her a hug before heading for the stairs, all pretence at cheerfulness was forgotten and Molly launched herself at them, once again hugging each of them fiercely, unable to speak. Ron gave his mother a tight smile as he patted her on the back before turning to follow Harry and Hermione up the stairs.

They each went to their own rooms to change into robes, lastly pulling on scarves, gloves and thick, warm travelling cloaks with hoods. Ron and Harry then made their way to Hermione's room where they found her ready, sitting on the bed, studying an open book on her lap.

`Getting in some last minute reading, Hermione?' asked Ron, attempting to keep his voice light.

Hermione looked up at him with the suggestion of a smile as she stood, closing the book and leaving it on the bed. `You know I never pass up the chance to read,' she chided him.

Harry eyed her with concern; he could sense the tension in her. `You all right?' he asked gently.

Hermione smiled and nodded as she held out her hands to them. Harry took her left, Ron her right; she gave them both a reassuring squeeze before letting go. Looking from one to the other she asked, even though it wasn't necessary, `You know where we're going?'

Harry and Ron both nodded.

`Let's go then, shall we?'

And So The Waiting Begins…

Downstairs everyone jumped as they heard the loud crack! that announced the departure of the Trio.

Mrs Weasley's hands shook violently at the sound, making her tea cup rattle loudly on its' saucer as she let out a sound halfway between a gasp and a scream. Mr Weasley stiffened in his armchair, his eyes flying open; he'd been sitting with his eyes closed, apparently listening to the wireless. Ginny, sitting on the sofa with Dean's arm around her shoulders, jumped and turned to look up at her husband, tears springing to her eyes. Dean squeezed her shoulder gently, murmuring quiet reassurances to her despite his own trepidation.

Just then the flames in the fireplace turned green and Mrs Weasley let out what was a definite scream this time.

As Fred, followed closely by George, stepped out onto the hearth, their mother hastily put her teacup aside and jumped up to hug them both ferociously.

`Oy, Mum! Take it easy!' cried Fred, although since his mouth was covered by Mrs Weasley's upper arm which was wrapped around his neck, it was a rather muffled protest.

After he and George managed to extricate themselves from their mother's embrace, the twins explained that they hadn't wanted to sit at home, alone, waiting. `We'd much rather do it here, you know, in company,' said Fred as he and George removed their warm travelling cloaks and took the seats vacated earlier by Harry and Hermione.

`I'll make some tea,' said Mrs Weasley, wiping her eyes with her fingers as she headed towards the kitchen, glancing surreptitiously at the corner where the Weasley grandfather clock stood, her stomach clenching with anxiety when she saw the golden hand with Ron's name on it moving slowly around the face of the clock, obviously unable to choose an appropriate description.

`Well,' said George, looking around at everyone. `I suppose we're all going to wait up, aren't we? Or is anyone planning on going to bed?'

`Can't imagine we'd sleep even if we did go to bed,' answered his father.

`True, true,' said Fred. `We did sort of think that'd be the case - s'why we came over. So, did they just leave?' he asked as he looked at the clock; it read twenty past eleven.

`They left about five-ten minutes ago,' answered Ginny as she gave her brother a measured look. `Do you know where they went?'

Fred and George exchanged a quick glance.

`They're going to tell all tomorrow, aren't they?' countered George. `Did they say how long they'd be?'

Mr Weasley shrugged slightly. `Hermione couldn't say for certain, but she did say earlier that she's hoping they'll be home before sunrise.'

`It's going to be a loooong night,' said Fred, yawning hugely as he raised his arms above his head and stretched. Nobody bothered to disagree with him.

The night did indeed drag on interminably, the monotony broken firstly by Percy Flooing to ask for news (`nothing to tell yet,' he was advised) and then again when Charlie Flooed at one o'clock; he was on his way to bed and wanted to know if there had been any developments.

`None,' said Arthur, addressing his son's head in the fireplace. `How's Cordelia?'

`Bit restless, actually,' replied Charlie. `Reason I'm still up - she needed a cup of tea.'

`Won't be long, now,' said Molly sagely, to no one in particular.

At four a.m. the flames in the fireplace once again turned green and Bill's yawning countenance appeared in the grate.

`I've just settled Aimee down after a nightmare,' he explained, `and since I was up, thought I'd check and see if anything's happened - I was pretty sure someone would be awake.'

Fred, who had dropped to his knees in front of the fireplace, shook his head. `Haven't heard a word yet, mate. You should go get some more sleep. We'll Floo you later.'

Everyone sat, unmoving, except for the occasional excursion to the loo or the kitchen, Molly making the trip to the kitchen regularly to produce what seemed to be endless pots of tea. She was becoming increasingly concerned by the sight of Ron's hand on the grandfather clock, still moving in slow, unceasing circles, not settling on any particular description; she prayed it wouldn't finally stop at “mortal peril”…

When the sun finally deigned to rise, it wasn't until the clock had chimed eight, the miniature version of Hagrid appearing on his platform with a sprightly step to happily clash his cymbals, drawing disgruntled glares which caused his smile to falter as he quickly retreated.

As though this was a signal of some sort, Ginny suddenly leapt from her seat as if electrified, her voice high-pitched and tight.

`It's been nine hours! Why haven't we heard from them? Where are they? Is there something wrong? What can we do? I feel so helpless!'

Molly looked once more at the grandfather clock and on seeing Ron's hand finally stopped at “dreadful danger”, she began to cry, tears running down her cheeks, sobs shaking her shoulders while Arthur did his best to comfort her. They need help! he thought desperately, wishing above all else that he knew where they were…

Fred and George exchanged a meaningful glance at that point, unnoticed by everyone else.

`We have to leave,' said Fred abruptly to no one in particular as he and George both stood up and retrieved their cloaks.

`But we'll be back,' added George, looking around nervously as though his brother had spoken too harshly.

Ginny gazed at them, astonished; it suddenly dawned on her that they'd worn thick, travelling cloaks which were quite unnecessary when Flooing…

`Leave? Why? Where are you going? What are you doing?'

Fred and George drew closer together, their expressions inscrutable as they regarded their sister.

`We'll be back,' was all they said before disappearing with the characteristic crack! leaving dismay and trepidation behind them.

The Spire of Death

Hermione smiled and nodded as she held out her hands to them, Harry taking her left, Ron her right; she gave them both a reassuring squeeze before letting go. Looking from one to the other she asked, even though it wasn't necessary, `You know where we're going?'

Harry and Ron both nodded.

`Let's go then, shall we?'

As they each stepped forward and turned, Harry became harshly aware of the tight constriction around his chest and was once again reminded why he disliked Apparition to this day.

In the next instant, he was grateful to feel the wind pulling at his cloak and knew he'd arrived at the entrance gate of their intended destination. He glanced quickly behind him to make sure Hermione and Ron were safe and saw them both pulling their hoods over their heads. Watching them, Harry became acutely aware of the bone-chilling wind whistling in his ears, making his eyes water, and reached up to pull his own hood over his head.

The full moon hung in the sky, a large, pallid orb whose impoverished light seemed to leave their surroundings leached of colour.

Harry felt unwelcome memories stir inside him as he gazed out across the graveyard. He hadn't been here since that night. The night of the final battle. The night Voldemort had died. The night that -

He felt a hand on his arm and looked down to see Hermione gazing at him anxiously. He placed his gloved hand over hers and squeezed gently, although he wasn't able to summon a smile. This seemed to reassure her nevertheless and she turned, holding her other hand out to Ron whose face had a bleak, pinched look; Harry knew how he felt. As soon as Ron had enclosed Hermione's hand in his, they all began to walk, heads bowed against the wind.

It took them less than fifteen minutes to carefully navigate the uneven ground of the low hillside, skirting the large, grey headstones and the carved stone statues which were given an awful, sickly pallor by the pale moonlight. They stopped as one in the shadow of a huge old beech tree in the centre of the graveyard, the sound of their quickened breathing lost to the damply chilling wind; the trunk of the great tree still retained the scars inflicted on the night of their last visit. Turning to look out over the eerie landscape, their eyes were drawn inexorably to the tall, black, iron spire atop a plain, square stone base about thirty feet away. They all knew of it, but this was the first time they'd actually seen it with their own eyes.

It had originally been erected simply as a memorial to the Trio's defeat of the Dark Lord. Perhaps because the tall, pointed spire put people in mind of a sword or perhaps because it marked the spot where Tom Marvolo Riddle, self-styled Lord Voldemort, had finally and irrevocably died; whatever the reason, people began to call it the Spire of Death and the name had stuck.

Hermione spoke the first words since they'd arrived: `It doesn't look any different, does it?' she asked, her eyes lingering on a point not too far away.

`Except for the Spire,' said Ron, his voice distant as he fought against memories of his last night on this spot, knowing he would have to face them again soon and dreading it.

`Let's get on with it,' said Harry forcibly, `after tonight, I don't ever want to see this place again.'

Hermione spared a moment to shoot a look of surprise at Harry. `You've always been so close and yet you haven't come here before tonight? Not since - since that night?'

Harry shook his head grimly. `Have you been here since?' he asked her tersely; he couldn't bear to think that she had been here at some point in the past and hadn't come to see him, regardless of the consequences.

`No, actually,' said Hermione, looking away, unknowingly giving Harry an opportunity to draw a breath of relief; she glanced briefly across at the rugged hill that hid Hogwarts Castle from their sight. Coming here would've meant the temptation of being too close to you, a dangerous situation in more ways than one…

`All right,' said Hermione, moving to Harry's right side so that he was between her and Ron, `we've just half an hour for a last run-through. We need to get this right, first time. No second chances.'

Harry and Ron both looked down at her with solemn faces, nodding; she thought she saw a flicker of fear in their eyes.

`Don't be afraid,' she whispered, gripping their arms and looking at them in turn; they both shook their heads.

`Not afraid,' said Harry, looking across at Ron, unspoken understanding in their gazes.

`Just remembering,' finished Ron, Harry nodding in unthinking agreement.

`How could we ever forget,' she whispered, glancing up at the moon.

`Come on, let's get on with it,' said Ron tersely. Get it over and done with.

And so they stood, arm in arm, practising for the final time the long, complicated incantation that would need to be word-perfect come midnight, when they would also need to brandish their wands, currently stowed safely inside their robes.

Ragged bits of cloud passed swiftly across the face of the moon as it hung apparently motionless in the sky, at the mercy of the same increasingly strong winds which whipped the words from their mouths.

Hermione lifted her hand, turning her wrist and pushing at her glove so that she could see her watch.

`It's almost midnight,' she said clearly, `wands out.'

“Wands out”… She sounds like me giving a lesson, thought Harry randomly.

Nothing else was said as they waited for Hermione's signal, standing as they had stood that night five years previously; Harry wondered if Ron and Hermione felt the same dreadful déjà vu that he was experiencing. This night, however, there were no Death Eaters, no Voldemort; the only thing facing them this time was the Spire of Death and the spectre of their memories.

At the stroke of midnight, Hermione spoke the first word of the incantation, simultaneously lifting her wand and pointing it directly at the Spire; Harry and Ron followed suit immediately, their voices joining Hermione's in the well-rehearsed recitation. The hours of practice behind them, aided by a remembering charm Hermione had cast earlier, helped to give them confidence as they ploughed through the long, tedious verses of the incantation, the prize of their precious friendship regained warming their hearts and strengthening their voices.

They spoke slowly and clearly, concentrating fiercely on each word, each line; they had no intention of making a single error. They were acutely aware that each word was bringing them closer to something they dreaded, yet something that needed to be done in order for them to be truly happy once more. They felt drained when they finished nearly half an hour later, watching apprehensively as a peculiar black glow appeared around the Spire.

They had yet to speak their individual counterspells and prompted by Hermione, Ron recited his first, his voice careful and deliberate. Hermione followed, her voice flowing smoothly - she had long committed this spell to memory. Harry cast his counterspell last, his voice strong and determined, buoyed by the presence and confidence of his friends.

The counterspells took them almost twenty minutes in total, and for the whole of that time, the eyes of all three remained fixed on the eerie, intense black glow that had appeared around the Spire. As the last word of Harry's spell evaporated in the icy air, nothing could be heard but the sinister rustling of the bleak wind.

Then the freezing wind suddenly began to accelerate, their cloaks lashing angrily about their legs as their now weary wand arms dropped to their sides. Hermione called out, her voice barely audible, `Get ready - and remember -' but she never finished, interrupted by a loud, sharp sound as the glow surrounding the Spire of Death suddenly began to crackle with what looked like black lightning. Even though they were waiting for something like this, they weren't truly prepared for the three black bolts that shot towards them so fast they barely registered in their minds before each one hit home and the Trio dropped to the ground simultaneously, laying where they fell, unmoving, their cloaks flapping around their motionless forms…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note

“See” you sometime Wednesday! If the worst comes to the worst, it'll be early Thursday. By the way, the idea of the Hogwarts Graveyard came to me from a memory of having seen Alfonso Cuaron (director of Prisoner of Azkaban) with a hand-drawn map he'd obtained from, as I recall, JKR herself (drawn for the movie), and I've never forgotten that glimpse of an area marked “graveyard” not far from Hogwarts - it intrigued me at the time and still does. Which is why I've used it in this story.

Ooops! Nearly forgot a little preview! *cheeky grin* Here tis!

`Molly!' cried Arthur the second she appeared in the doorway of Percy's old room, `Come and look at this!'

Molly crossed quickly to the bed where Harry lay, Dean sitting on one side, Arthur standing on the other. As she reached him, her husband pointed to Harry's face and Molly gasped. Harry's scar was a livid red slash in the pale skin of his forehead.

`Is he all right?' she asked fearfully, sitting on the bed and reaching for Harry's hand; it, too, was very cold to the touch.

-->

Author's Note

Thank you so much everyone for your funny, informative, fun, hysterical and just plain great reviews! In this chapter is revealed HOW the Trio are going to explain various events to everyone because it's not just by telling them (and I was rather proud of that little idea…).

And about those little cliffhangers… I really don't set out to deliberately leave you hanging, honestly! It's just that where the chapter ends is where the chapter cries out to be ended. It's just rather unfortunate that it's usually at a slightly suspenseful moment…

Also, I haven't mentioned Kirsti-the-Wonder-Beta for a couple of chapters *Janie hangs her head in shame*. This brilliant lady is…well, brilliant! LOL! Seriously, Kirsti dear - what would I do without you and your wonderful, wonderful help and invaluable advice and ideas? Thank you so much! Janie xoxo

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER SEVEN

And The Wait Continues…

Ginny sprang to her feet as Fred and George disappeared - crack! - while an agitated Molly headed for the kitchen as was her habit when under stress. She began to make morning tea, desperate for the distraction of doing something, however mundane. As she passed the grandfather clock, she couldn't stop herself from taking a look, feeling grateful it still sat on “dreadful danger”, then thinking how peculiar it was to have “dreadful danger” something to be grateful for… Her worst nightmare would be to find it pointing to “mortal peril”.

`Where the bloody hell have they gone?' Ginny demanded angrily. `What's going on?'

Dean and Arthur exchanged worried, but weary, glances. Arthur nodded imperceptibly at his son-in-law, letting him know that he should be the one to speak; Dean had always been able to calm Ginny down better than anyone else.

`Ginny, do you trust them? Harry and Ron and Hermione?'

Ginny turned and glared at her husband. `That has nothing to do with Fred and George knowing something and not telling us and nothing to do with why we weren't told!'

Dean reached up and took Ginny's hand, gently pulling her back to sit beside him, bringing her close with an arm around her shoulders.

`Ginny, you know as well as I do that there would be a very good reason for Fred and George to be involved without anyone else being told. I have no idea what it could be, but I'm afraid you - and all of us, for that matter - need to be patient, hard as it is. You know how resourceful Fred and George are - it's probably one of the reasons they were chosen to go and do whatever it is they've gone to do. Besides, I'm sure it's preferable to have you here at the Burrow, with your parents - especially your mum - than Fred and George.'

Ginny looked glum despite knowing Dean was right. I guess I'll just have to work on my patience, she resolved bitterly.

Ginny's resolution was soon pushed to the limit as the minutes dragged by; time was passing with agonising slowness. Half an hour later, no news, no Flooing - no word at all and no sign of Fred or George - or anyone for that matter…

An hour later, they'd drunk yet more tea, but left Molly's cake and biscuits untouched.

Finally, shortly after nine o'clock, just as Ginny thought she was going to scream with sheer frustration, a tremendous crack! resounded through the room and Fred reappeared. Everyone froze momentarily, the fear in his eyes as he glanced quickly around the room chilling their hearts.

Arthur was beside his son instantly, grasping his arm, asking him in low tones, `What's wrong, son? What can we do?'

Looking away from Ginny and Dean, motionless on the couch, to his mother, sitting fearfully at the table, Fred shivered involuntarily. He turned to look at his father. `Dad, get your cloak, you need to come with me, now! We need your help. They're all -' Fred stopped abruptly, unable to think for the moment.

There was a single instance of total silence, then a dreadful wail split the air.

`Nooooooooooo! My son! Ron!' Molly Weasley launched herself from her seat, reaching Arthur and Fred, grabbing their arms, her eyes pleading with them to tell her that everything was all right - that Ron was all right…

`They're alive, just,' said Fred, his voice cracking, `but we haven't been able to wake them. We've tried everything! We have to bring them back here - we need you Dad, so there's one of us for each of them.'

`Mum?' It was Ginny; Dean was right behind her with Arthur's cloak draped over his arm which he handed silently to his father-in-law. `Mum,' repeated Ginny, `they need to go now. Harry, Ron and Hermione need help.' Ginny glanced fiercely at her father and brother. `And don't worry, they'll let us know as soon as they can what's going on, won't you?' Ginny wished desperately she could go with them.

Fred and Arthur nodded automatically.

Molly clutched her husband's arm, tears in her eyes. `Arthur, please be careful - and you Fred - and bring them back, all right? Just bring them back…' her voice sank to a whisper.

`Where are we going?' Arthur asked his son. Ginny looked quickly at her brother, waiting for his response, but Fred turned and whispered something in his father's ear. Arthur's eyes widened in momentary surprise, then he murmured, `Of course.'

`Well?' demanded Ginny angrily, `Where are you going, then?'

`We'll explain everything later, Gin - we'll be back soon, I promise,' Fred answered quietly.

Ginny glared furiously at her brother, but he remained impassive. `We need to go now,' he said urgently. Ginny, whilst still glaring at him, gently drew her mother away so that the two men could Disapparate. After taking one last glance at the three frightened faces they were leaving behind, Fred and Arthur turned and disappeared.

Once they were gone, the empty silence felt horribly oppressive and Molly stood, wringing her hands as tears fell down her white cheeks. Ginny's arm was across her shoulders and Dean stood beside his wife, clasping her free hand clasped in both of his; Ginny's anger and frustration began to dissolve in the face of her mother's fear and distress.

`Mum,' she said, her voice filled with her own tension and alarm, `why don't we make something for lunch. They'll need something when they get back.'

Molly nodded, grasping at her daughter's suggestion. `Yes, yes, they will. They'll be starving.' She turned and headed for the kitchen, once again using her apron to wipe the tears from her face.

Ginny turned and leant against Dean as they wrapped their arms around each other. `I'm so scared for them,' she whispered, her voice ending in a sob.

`So am I, love, but we should put on a brave face for your mum.' Ginny nodded against his chest. `Come on, let's go give her a hand,' he said gently.

Home Again, Home Again…

Ginny didn't think an hour had ever passed so slowly as that hour between Fred and Arthur's departure and their return.

Molly was almost feverish in her attempt to stay occupied, repeatedly reminding Ginny and Dean that doing something would make the time pass more quickly. She'd decided that Cornish pasties and shepherd's pie would be the best dishes and set about making them, her wand almost a blur while Ginny and Dean fetched utensils and ingredients on demand.

Half an hour after she'd started, Molly left Ginny and Dean to clean up while she Flooed Percy, Bill and then Charlie, bringing them up to date. She asked after Cordelia, and an excited Charlie told her his wife was in the early stages of labour. Since it was Cordelia's first baby, the Mid-witch didn't expect very much in the way of developments before that evening, but Charlie assured his mum that if anything happened earlier, he'd be in touch. Molly assured him in return that they, too, would Floo as soon as they could when they knew more about Harry, Ron and Hermione; she didn't have the heart to tell him the full details of the current grave circumstances in the face of his joy at the imminent birth of his first child. If we wait a little longer, we could have good news for him, she thought, clinging to the hope that this would be the case.

After she finished speaking to Charlie, Molly returned to the now spotless kitchen to check the pie and pasties. Dean and Ginny were sitting at the table drinking a Butterbeer each when a loud crack echoed through the house. They were all so tense that even the familiar sound of Apparition made them jump, Ginny and Dean almost dropping their butterbeer and Molly nearly burning herself on the hot oven door as she closed it.

The three of them reacted immediately and within seconds, they'd reached the living room - only to find it empty until a moment later, when Fred hurtled down the stairs looking pale and shivering with cold, panting as he spoke.

`We took them straight to their rooms - we think they'll be all right but we need your help, come on!' urged Fred as he turned and ran back up the stairs, Molly on his heels, Dean and Ginny right behind her, responding to his urgent demand.

`You go on up to Ron, Mum - George's with him,' called Fred as he took the stairs two at a time, `Ginny, you come with me to see to Hermione - Dean, you go help Dad with Harry!'

Molly was panting heavily as she reached the fifth floor landing; she'd been afraid to Apparate, given her current state of mind. George appeared in the doorway to Ron's room, the look on his face making her heart sink.

`Mum!' he said hoarsely, stumbling back to his brother's bedside. `Quickly!'

Molly couldn't speak for panting as she crossed the landing, afraid of what she would find when she entered her youngest son's room. She had a horrible vision in her head of him lying unconscious and bleeding on his bed…

Reaching the door, Molly felt as if everything began to take place in slow motion; she stopped and gripped the framework of the doorway to support herself, gazing at the prostrate body of her son lying spreadeagled on his bed. Slowly but surely, a horrible, suffocating feeling of terror overtook her and she felt as if she was choking, unable to breathe.

`Ron…' her voice was a faint, harsh whisper.

George was kneeling on the floor beside his brother's bed, one hand resting on Ron's forehead, the other on his wrist, feeling for his pulse.

`He's alive, Mum. He feels icy cold and clammy and his pulse is slow and weak, but he's alive,' he said breathlessly. `Harry and Hermione were the same,' he added forlornly. `We tried for so long to warm them up, but we couldn't! We were afraid to move them at first, but when nothing else worked we had no choice!'

Molly quickly crossed the room, dropping to her knees on the opposite side of the bed, her heart heavy as she looked at the ashen pallor of her son's face, his freckles standing out starkly against his pale skin. Taking his icy hand in her rather worn, but very warm ones, Molly felt tears running down her cheeks. She looked across at George, her eyes holding a question she was afraid to speak.

`We think they'll be all right, Mum,' he said shakily, `they were all breathing when we got there, but we don't know how long they'd been lying there, it was freezing and they were so cold and -'

Here George hesitated on seeing the look on his mother's face; he was unsure of how to describe the state they'd found the trio in.

`Well?' prompted his mother, `so cold and what, George?'

George shook his head and shrugged miserably. `They looked like they were dead and yet, they weren't. And we don't how the exposure didn't kill them.'

Molly, her expression horrified, reached into her robes for her wand, lifting it to cast the only spell over her son she could think of at that moment, a spell of gentle warming.

`Where were they?' she asked.

`Hogwarts Graveyard.'

Molly gasped, her eyes flying up to meet her son's. `It would be absolutely freezing there!'

George nodded mutely.

`Anything else you can tell me?' asked his mother, putting her wand down on the bed. She pushed Ron's unruly red hair off his forehead with one hand while her other tenderly caressed his cold cheek.

`We just couldn't wake them - we tried to warm them, we made a fire, conjured blankets for them - we tried for ages, but they just didn't respond!'

`It's probably where you were - and not just because it's a graveyard.' Molly shuddered. They'd gone back to the very place where they'd defeated Voldemort! What memories and magic would have been waiting for them there?

`Now that they're here, we should be able to warm them.' Molly felt relief sweep through her as she made this announcement, and with such a rush she felt light-headed.

`We need to get him under the covers,' she said as she picked up her wand, murmuring, `Mobilicorpus'. Ron floated gently above his bed while George quickly pulled the bed covers back. After he was lowered to the bed once more, Molly and George removed his shoes, then Molly quickly pulled the duvet up to cover her son.

`He has a little more colour, don't you think?' asked George, peering anxiously at his brother.

`Perhaps,' said Molly, scrutinising Ron's face, `and he seems to be breathing a little more easily now that he's warmer. Watch him, please, George, while I go fetch an Invigoration Draught.' Molly felt a small measure of confidence return at the apparent success of her ministrations.

As she headed down the stairs, she stopped in to see Hermione and was relieved to hear that Fred and Ginny had done basically the same for Hermione as she'd done for Ron. Ginny and Fred were sitting on each side of the bed and when Molly appeared, Ginny rose and walked quickly over to her.

`Mum, she seems a little better, a little warmer - she was so cold! - and she doesn't look quite so pale.'

Molly hugged her daughter then gave her a small smile as she said, `I think the main thing wrong with them is exposure to the cold. And it couldn't be reversed where they were. Thank Merlin Fred and George went when they did!'

`When we got there, Mum,' put in Fred, still sounding frantic, `they were just lying on the ground. It was freezing and they were so cold and still we were afraid they were - '

`But they're not!' interrupted Molly sharply, not wanting to hear what Fred had been going to say. `Did they still have their cloaks on?' she finished.

Fred nodded. `They did, but I have a feeling they'd been lying there like that for most of the night.'

Ginny and Molly both shivered in horror at the thought, Molly remembering the “dreadful danger” that Ron's hand had pointed to on the grandfather clock, wondering how much longer it would've been - how much longer the three of them would've been lying there - before it moved to “mortal peril”. She felt grateful she would never know that now.

`What about Harry?' asked Ginny.

`I'm going to check on him next,' replied Molly. `I'll bring back an Invigoration Draught for them after I've spoken to Dad.'

`Molly!' cried Arthur the second she appeared in the doorway of Percy's old room, `Come and look at this!'

Molly crossed quickly to the bed where Harry lay, Dean sitting on one side, Arthur standing on the other. As she reached him, her husband pointed to Harry's face and Molly gasped. Harry's scar was a dull red slash in the pale skin of his forehead.

`Is he all right?' she asked fearfully, sitting on the bed and reaching for Harry's hand; it, too, was very cold to the touch. Molly leant forward and gently put the back of her hand against his cheek only to find it was also unnaturally cold.

`I did use a warming charm on him, but I'm not as good at them as you, dear,' said Arthur. `He's not as cold as when we first found him though. How's Ron? And Hermione?'

`He's warming up and his colour's coming back. So's Hermione's. I'm on my way to get an Invigoration Draught for each of them.' Molly stood and drew her wand from her pocket to perform the warming charm on Harry, taking his hand immediately afterwards, relieved that he already felt a little warmer.

`Let's get him under the covers,' Molly instructed and they did so.

`I wonder if his scar will hurt when he wakes up?' ventured Dean. `It looks so - so raw!'

`Let's hope it settles down before he wakes up,' said Arthur as Molly stood and headed for the door. `We can only hope,' she said in answer to both of them. `All right then, I'm off to the kitchen - I'll be back in a minute with the Draught,' she assured them as she left.

As she reached the kitchen, heading for the cupboard where she kept various potions, Molly suddenly lurched, her legs almost giving way beneath her. She managed to reach out for the edge of the kitchen bench in time to stop herself from falling and as she stood there, clutching at it, she felt her whole body begin to tremble. As tears formed in her eyes and slowly ran down her face, she realised she was only now giving way to the fear, tension and exhaustion of the last twelve hours. After a minute or so, the trembling subsided and she straightened up, lifting her apron to dry her tears, gasping in fright as two hands unexpectedly grasped her shoulders and she turned to see the anxious face of her husband.

`Molly? I wondered what was taking you so long - are you all right, dear?'

She nodded wordlessly, gratefully falling into his embrace.

`Just having a bit of a cry about it all, Arthur - I feel as though I've been afraid forever and I'm just so tired. I couldn't've slept before they were all home, though.'

`You'll be glad to hear Harry's stirring, although I don't think he'll actually wake up - I think it's just a response to warming up. Ron and Hermione are doing the same, according to George and Ginny.'

`Then I'd better get this Invigoration Draught up to them quick smart, it'll help,' said Molly as she turned and opened the small cupboard on the wall, reaching up to take a large bottle of mint-green liquid from the bottom shelf. Arthur took three spoons from the drawer and together, they headed for their son's room at the top of the house.

Pie, Pasties and Patience

Less than an hour later saw Fred and George Flooing their older brothers to give them the good news about the Trio, while Molly and Ginny set the table. Arthur and Dean were doing one last check on Harry, Ron and Hermione to make sure they were settled before joining the others to eat.

`Thank Merlin!' said Bill with feeling on hearing that the Trio were back at the Burrow, warm, safe and now sleeping normally.

Percy's response was very similar to Bill's and he thanked his twin brothers for letting him know.

`Bloody relief, I must say, although you could've told me the whole story earlier!' exclaimed Charlie, who in turn told them that Cordelia was progressing nicely according to their Mid-witch and he'd be in touch again later.

Molly, Arthur, Fred, George, Ginny and Dean sat around the kitchen table, yawning between mouthfuls of pasties and shepherd's pie. Their exhaustion was catching up with them, although their combined relief was almost palpable.

`I think we should all have a decent nap after this,' said Arthur. `I can't imagine that Ron, Harry or Hermione will wake up before dinnertime.'

Ginny groaned softly, although she was smiling as she turned to Dean. `I'm still practising enormous patience here I hope you realise,' she told him.

`I'm just so relieved and grateful they're home and seem to be all right,' said Molly tremulously.

`Aren't we all,' said Fred and George together.

`What time are Luna and Neville coming?' asked Dean.

`I think about seven,' replied Ginny.

Just then, they heard the sound of small feet clumping on wood, followed by the clanging of cymbals.

`Twelve o'clock,' said Fred unnecessarily as he licked his fingers. `Terrific pasties, Mum,' he told her.

`Thank you Fred, but now I think we should clean up as fast as we can so that we can all get some much needed rest. I'll need to be up again by five to get dinner ready.'

Waking Up…

As the miniature Hagrid strode out onto his small wooden platform, his cymbals raised, ready to be clashed, he hesitated at the sight that met his eyes; despite the fact that it was only one o'clock in the afternoon and not an hour ago there had been a chattering group around the kitchen table, eating, there now wasn't a soul to be seen. What he could hear, however, was the distant rumble of a variety of snores and deciding it was probably the wisest course, the tiny figure dropped his arms to his sides, his cymbals unclashed, and returned to his clock.

An hour later he marched out again to find that nothing had changed. He began to feel a little dejected, returning to the clock with slumped shoulders, wondering if things would be looking up by the time another hour rolled around. However, by four o'clock things still hadn't changed and he couldn't help but feel a little put out about the whole situation. He wasn't to know that one occupant of the Burrow was just then beginning to awaken…

Harry had opened his eyes just minutes before, his vision blurred as it always was on waking. His first thoughts were of Hermione and Ron - but even as he wondered how they were, he recalled voices, at first sounding frantic, calling out to each other - then becoming relieved; he remembered almost waking up and being aware of a wonderful, delicious warmth pervading his body after which Molly's voice was gone and he heard Arthur and Dean talking about Ron and Hermione - that they too, seemed to be all right. He remembered the sensation of a cool liquid sliding down his throat and then his hand flew to his forehead as he recalled Dean's comment about his scar looking “raw”. He felt a trickle of fear which dissipated as his fingers explored the familiar lightning shape and he realised there was no pain - that it felt the same as it had for all the years after Voldemort's defeat.

Harry closed his eyes, relief washing through him as he realised that the three of them were back, safe and sound. Had it worked? Had what they gone through during the night been worth it? Had it been successful? Harry sighed as he automatically reached out for his glasses on the bedside table, knowing he'd have no answers just yet. He slipped them on although he stayed as he was, lying down; all his muscles felt as though he'd pushed them beyond endurance and a dull ache was beginning to claim his whole body. As his vision cleared behind his glasses, he gingerly went over his aching body, relieved to find nothing more than sore muscles. Awful memories were clamouring to be examined - his head was full to bursting with them - but he wasn't ready for them just yet and he determinedly pushed them aside. Doing so brought something to mind and he lay, thinking for some time, until a scratching sound reached his ears and he turned to see Hedwig perched on the window sill.

Still reluctant to put his tired muscles to the test, Harry lifted his wand from the bedside table and waved it, whispering “alohamora”, enabling Hedwig to enter the room. She landed on the bed-head and hooted softly at him.

`Hi girl,' he said quietly, `sorry I can't get up right now.'

Hedwig immediately fluttered down to the bed beside Harry's shoulder and gave him an affectionate peck. Harry smiled at her, stroking her breast feathers until she held out her leg and he noticed for the first time that there was a roll of parchment attached to it. Pulling it off, Harry wondered who on earth would be writing to him at this time. After opening and reading the parchment, however, he felt no surprise.

`Right, Hedwig, time to make an attempt at getting up, I need to write a letter,' he told her as she once more fluttered up to sit on the bed-head.

Very gingerly, Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, where he stayed until the spinning in his head subsided enough for him to drop his legs over the side of the bed. Looking down, he realised he still had on the robes he'd worn to the graveyard, so he shakily got to his feet and changed them for a pair of jeans and a thick, light coloured jumper. Deciding warmth was more important than how he looked, Harry pushed his feet into his favourite pair of old, warm, woollen slippers before taking a piece of parchment , quill and ink from the top drawer of his bedside table. He wrote a quick reply to the letter he'd received, tied it to Hedwig's leg and gave her an affectionate scratch around the neck before she flew off.

Guessing from the silence, broken only by the occasional snore, that everyone else was asleep, Harry slowly crossed the landing to see Hermione for himself; he was still slightly unsteady on his feet and his muscles felt very stiff. As he crossed to the bed in which she lay, Harry felt a familiar swooping sensation in his stomach at the sight of her. She was lying on her side, facing him, both her hands tucked under her cheek, her long curls lying in disarray on the pillow, framing her face. The duvet was pulled right up to her chin and she looked as though she was sleeping peacefully. Unable to pass up such a golden opportunity, Harry bent down and kissed her gently on the cheek, enjoying the delightful feel of her soft skin against his lips.

Reluctantly leaving Hermione's room, he crept up to see Ron, grinning at the sight of his best friend lying on his back, snoring gently.

Making his way down to the kitchen, firmly gripping the balustrade for support as he descended, Harry realised he was starving. It didn't take him long to find the left-over Cornish pasties and he helped himself to a couple, warming them with his wand and feeling much better for having eaten something. He then made himself a mug of tea after renewing the fire in the kitchen fireplace with a quick “Incendio” and sat at the table, finalising his thoughts on how to explain to everyone what had happened the previous night; he hoped Ron and Hermione would agree with his idea.

This was how Molly and Arthur found him just before five o'clock as they walked into the kitchen, both yawning. On spotting Harry, Molly let out a very undignified squeal and ran to him, Harry standing up just as she reached him and pulled him to her in a tight hug.

`How do you feel? What about your scar?' asked Molly after she released him, her eyes darting to his forehead.

He assured her he was fine, if somewhat stiff and sore, then Arthur clapped him on the shoulder, grinning.

`I've got some of Mabel's Magical Muscle Syrup,' said Molly, heading for her potions cupboard, `that'll fix you up in a jiffy. And I'll leave it out for Ron and Hermione when they come down.'

Harry sent silent thanks to Mabel as he felt the pain and stiffness receding swiftly from his body.

`Let's all sit down and have a cuppa - no, Molly,' he said firmly to his wife as she automatically turned towards the cooker, `you sit down, I'll get the tea.' Having said that, Arthur pulled out his wand and conjured three cups of tea while Molly clicked her tongue disapprovingly; she didn't believe conjured tea tasted as good as real tea.

`Come on, dear,' said Arthur placatingly, `we don't have a lot of time.'

`All right, just this once,' she said, raising her voice a little to be heard over the enthusiastic clashing of cymbals that was again marking the hour.

`Now, Harry,' said Arthur, throwing an amused glance in the direction of the clock, `do you think you'll be up to this dinner tonight, with Neville and Luna coming over? Ron and Hermione, too?'

Harry nodded. `I think so - I feel so much better already and I'm sure they will too, once they've had some of that Syrup. And by the way, thank you, the both of you, for everything.'

Arthur waved his hand, `No need to thank us Harry - you know we'd do anything for you and Hermione as well. Now, you're sure you're all right?'

Harry nodded. I'll be even better once Ron and Hermione are awake and we can all be absolutely certain. None of us has had any potion since yesterday morning…

`Well,' said Molly, draining her cup and standing up, `time to get moving with dinner.' She pulled a clean apron from a drawer and tied it on, humming to herself as she began waving her wand to set pots and pans zooming to the sink to be filled.

`Looks like we'll just be in the way here, Harry,' said Arthur with a grin. They stood, ducking as a pan went whizzing right past them, and headed for the living room where Arthur started the fire. He and Harry then settled themselves on the couch, Harry asking for more details of the Trio's “rescue” which Arthur readily imparted, Harry grateful for Hermione's foresight in making “rescue” arrangements with the twins.

The sound of someone Apparating outside the front door, followed by a sharp knock, interrupted their conversation. `That'll be Professor McGonagall,' said Harry, drawing a look of astonished surprise from Arthur as they both made their way to the front door. `She's bringing something I asked for,' Harry explained.

Molly came out from the kitchen to say hello and offer a cup of tea on hearing the familiar voice, but the Headmistress declined, thanking her nonetheless.

`I'm afraid I can't stay Molly dear, but thank you anyway,' she said, sounding a little harried. Handing Harry something wrapped in a thick, white cloth, Professor McGonagall wished them all a Happy Christmas and left.

In answer to their inquiring looks, Harry walked to the kitchen table, placing the object on it before removing the cloth wrapping.

Molly gasped while Arthur simply raised his eyebrows.

`It's Dumbledore's Pensieve,' said Harry, his eyes clouded with memories as they ran over the bowl and the unusual runes decorating its edge. Molly and Arthur nodded; they'd both recognised it.

`I received an owl from Professor McGonagall earlier this afternoon,' Harry explained, `asking if I needed anything - any help; she had a basic idea of what we were attempting because Hermione had spoken to her last Tuesday when we visited Hogwarts. After I woke up this afternoon, I was actually thinking about how we could explain things to everyone and the idea of the Pensieve came to me. After receiving the Professor's owl, I decided to ask her if she minded lending it to me for tonight.'

`Well,' said Arthur giving Harry a look of admiration, `I think that's a grand idea, Harry, although actually seeing what happened may be a little daunting.'

Harry nodded, gazing at the Pensieve. `Maybe…but it would certainly be far easier than Ron, Hermione and me trying to explain so much with just words…' and have to relive it all yet again, so soon… Harry suppressed a shudder.

Molly and Arthur exchanged looks, both realising that Harry wanted to spare his friends - and himself - the pain of reliving their ordeal so soon and they certainly couldn't blame him for that.

It was going to be an interesting night…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note

Oh, so interesting…I hope! *grins*

Dean came downstairs at that moment and announced Ginny would be down with Hermione shortly. Harry and Ron stepped apart, both still grinning furiously; they waited where they were to greet Hermione.

They heard the girls' voices first, followed by their light footsteps. Harry and Ron both looked up to see Ginny descending with Hermione right behind her. Harry couldn't take his eyes off Hermione - the mixture of relief, gratitude and happiness coursing through him at the sight of her putting him off his guard so that his gaze revealed a depth of feeling he normally kept to himself. Hermione smiled at Ron then looked at Harry and what she saw caused her footsteps to falter for an instant and she grasped the balustrade with both hands to steady herself.

Sorry, not much of a preview this time folks, as I couldn't pick so much as a sentence that didn't give something away (however minor!). And since I'll be posting Chapter Eight on Saturday you don't have to wait long, right?

Cheers!

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Thanks

As always, to Kirsti *waves and blows kisses*

Author's Note

I originally had this chapter split into two but since they were both quite short I decided to amalgamate them. Which is probably just as well, otherwise you wouldn't be reading the part titled “Into the Pensieve” until Monday as Chapter Nine (I'm not even going to think about what some of you might've thought or said if that had been the case…*grins sheepishly*). And so, at last, the “back-story” begins…

PS I'm sorry this is so late - for some reason, I've not been able to access Portkey all afternoon until now *Janie stamps her feet in frustration* but FINALLY!!! Here I am!!! And even better, here is Chapter Eight…

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER EIGHT

At six o'clock that evening, Fred and George arrived downstairs with a smiling, if somewhat unsteady, Ron between them. At the first sight of him on the stairs, Harry rose and went over to greet him. The two friends stood, a couple of feet apart, grinning at each other while the twins continued on, heading for the kitchen, exchanging congratulatory smiles and claps on the shoulder as if they were personally responsible for the well-being of the Trio. Molly was already up and making her way towards her youngest son, her bottle of Mabel's Magical Muscle Syrup and spoon in hand.

`It's worked, hasn't it?' Ron asked Harry, his face flushed with excitement.

`I'm sure it has - I've been up for a while now,' said Harry, `I even came and checked on you while you were still asleep and considering our proximity then and now, I feel fine. And we haven't had any potion since yesterday morning.'

`Ron, have some of this dear,' interjected Molly, holding out a spoon filled to the brim with Mabel's chocolate brown syrup, `it'll get rid of any soreness you might be feeling.'

Rolling his eyes at Harry, Ron smiled good-naturedly at his mother and bent down to drink the contents of the spoon.

`Thanks, Mum, I am pretty stiff and sore…'

Reaching out, Molly hugged her eldest son before making her way back to the kitchen; she didn't let him see the tears of relieved happiness swimming in her eyes.

Ron extended his hand towards Harry; Harry grinned at his friend as he took it. They shook slowly, waiting, their eyes locked as their shared memories from the night before flared between them for an instant.

`It was a helluva night, wasn't it?' said Ron quietly, pain evident in his voice.

`Sure was,' said Harry, his voice revealing his own pain, `but it's worked, I'm sure of it now.'

`By George, she's done it!' cried Ron suddenly, bursting into unexpected laughter, `And tonight we celebrate!'

`By Fred, she has!' joked Harry, joining in his friend's laughter. They stood there, their hands still clasped, grinning at each other. They both moved at once, wrapping their free arm around the other's shoulder. They were finally free…

Dean came downstairs at that moment and announced Ginny would be down with Hermione shortly. Harry and Ron stepped apart, both still grinning furiously; they waited where they were to greet Hermione.

They heard the girls' voices first, followed by their light footsteps. Harry and Ron both looked up to see Ginny descending with Hermione right behind her. Harry couldn't take his eyes off Hermione - the mixture of relief, gratitude and happiness coursing through him at the sight of her putting him off his guard so that his gaze revealed a depth of feeling he normally kept to himself. Hermione smiled at Ron then looked at Harry. What she saw caused her footsteps to falter for an instant and she grasped the balustrade with both hands to steady herself.

`You all right?' asked a concerned Ginny, turning to look at her. Hermione was blushing, but she nodded and murmured something about her legs still feeling a little weak. It was then that Ginny caught the look on Harry's face as he gazed at Hermione and her eyebrows rose. Ron had noticed too, and he and Ginny exchanged knowing glances as the girls reached the bottom of the stairs. Ron, being the closest to her, hugged Hermione first.

`You did it, Professor Granger,' he said softly, his arms around her.

`We did it, Ron - it's never been just one of us, it's always been the three of us.'

`I know better than to argue with you, Professor Granger!' laughed Ron, letting her go. Hermione turned towards Harry, hesitating for just a second, suddenly overcome with an unaccustomed shyness after seeing the expression on his face mere moments ago. Harry was suffering no such thing, however, and stepped forward to envelop her in his arms. Hermione felt a distinct weakness in her knees at that point, and clung to Harry.

`Thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart,' he whispered into her hair.

Hermione looked up at him. `For you, anything,' she whispered back, her eyes shining.

Then they found themselves surrounded, being hugged and warmly congratulated by everyone. As they all turned to make their way into the kitchen, Hermione put a restraining hand on Arthur's arm.

`Mr Weasley, would you mind if I Flooed my mum and dad?'

He smiled down at her. `Of course not, Hermione. I did Floo them earlier to say all three of you were home and sleeping. I asked them to come for dinner tonight, but they said you were going to see them tomorrow. Will you be up to it? Not too tired?'

`Mr Weasley, I don't think I've ever been so stiff, sore and tired in my life - but I've also never felt so extraordinarily happy! You can't imagine the wonderful feeling of -' Hermione searched for an appropriate word to describe the incredible lightness that came from knowing that at last they were free! Nothing appropriate sprang to mind so she shrugged, grinning at him. `It's a rather indescribable sense of freedom - it's exhilarating! I feel as though I could do anything!'

Before hurrying off to speak to her parents, Molly insisted Hermione have a dose of Mabel's Syrup. Impressed with how quickly it worked, Hermione gave Molly a hug then left to speak to her parents who she reassured that she was fine. She asked them whether they'd mind if Harry came with her the next day which of course they didn't, and it was arranged they'd be there for lunch.

When she returned to the kitchen, Harry called her over to sit between himself and Ron and as she did so, she realised her two friends were infused with the same light-hearted feeling of joy as herself. In fact, the Trio seemed to positively glow with happiness and their mood infected everyone else. Arthur was busy pouring drinks for everyone and Hermione found a glass of elderflower wine waiting for her while Ron and Harry had a glass of Ogden's.

`I'll have a sherry, dear,' Molly said to Arthur, her cheeks flushed with happiness. `You too?' she asked Ginny, who nodded.

`Ogden's please Dad,' chorused the twins, capitalising on the situation; Arthur normally frowned on the twins drinking whisky as he couldn't quite accustom himself to the fact that they were old enough to do so. After giving Molly and Ginny their sherry, Arthur poured some Ogden's for Dean, his sons and himself; he remained standing when he finished, clearing his throat to gain everyone's attention and raising his glass.

`Here's to Harry, Ron and Hermione!'

`Hear, hear!'

The Trio stood and Harry raised his glass, glancing at Ron and Hermione in turn before smiling at everyone around the table. `Here's to all of you!'

`Hear, hear!' cried Ron and Hermione, laughing.

`Cheers,' said Ron, raising his glass; Harry and Hermione touched their glasses to his and the Trio drank a heartfelt toast to each other.

`Right, now we've got that out of the way,' said Arthur jovially as the Trio resumed their seats, `please excuse me while I Floo Bill and Charlie.' He caught his wife's eye. `And Percy, too, of course,' he added quickly. `I won't be long.'

Not long after Arthur returned, a very happy miniature Hagrid strode out of his clock to clash his cymbals at seven o'clock, everyone grimacing at the sound, although they couldn't help but laugh at the enthusiastic delight with which it was carried out.

`I'll go have a word with him,' said Arthur; the prospect of such a racket every hour not being a pleasant one despite the happy disposition behind it.

`Be nice, dear,' said Molly, `he's just catching the mood in here really and I can't say I blame him!' Her cheeks were quite flushed, although whether it was from the sherry, the warmth, the excitement or all three, it was hard to say.

`We need to get the little fellow something quieter to ring in the hour,' muttered Fred to his twin.

George nodded, grinning. `He does get carried away with those bloody cymbals, doesn't he?'

When Arthur returned to the kitchen, he had Neville and Luna in tow. `Look who just Flooed in,' he announced with a smile and a flourish. There was a babble of noise as everyone greeted the new arrivals and it quickly became apparent that it was becoming a little crowded in the kitchen. As she looked around with an absent- minded frown on her face, Molly said to her husband, `I think the kitchen's shrinking again, dear, would you mind fixing it?'

Arthur drew out his wand to do as he was asked and everyone soon found themselves seated comfortably around the table once more.

`How's Cordelia?' asked Molly as she surveyed her husband's handiwork, nodding approvingly.

`“Still in the cracking stage”, as Charlie put it,' laughed Arthur, the other members of the Weasley family laughing with him.

`What?' asked Harry and Hermione at the same time, their looks of confusion mirrored on the faces of Neville and Luna.

`Well, you know Charlie and his dragon-breeding - he's hatched more dragons than he'll ever have children,' explained Arthur, `and the cracking stage is about a third of the way through the hatching process, so he's saying that there's still a bit of a wait before the baby's born.'

`Speaking about waiting, how much longer do we have to wait for story time?' Neville asked Harry, his eyebrows lifting inquiringly, a grin in place.

Everyone laughed and Harry told him it would be after dinner, of course. And a lovely dinner it was, naturally. Having made sure he was seated next to Hermione, with Ron on his left, Harry realised he hadn't felt like this in over five years and it was as though he was drunk on happiness. He couldn't stop smiling and he couldn't stop looking at Hermione every chance he got, using every excuse to accidentally brush his hand against hers - whilst passing the sauce, or the salt or filling up her glass. On top of all this, the look in Hermione's eyes each time she glanced at him set his heart racing.

At one point, Ron elbowed him and told him with a knowing grin, `You're being a bit obvious, mate.'

Harry turned to look at his friend, grinning. `Can't help it!' he said under his breath. `I can't believe how good it feels to - to - well, just be myself, I guess! It's been a long time…'

`It has,' agreed Ron. `Too long. But now it's over!'

Harry locked eyes with Ron. `He was lying, wasn't he? It is all right, isn't it?' he asked.

`Yes, mate, it's all right,' replied Ron, holding his gaze. `He was lying and you know why and you know the truth: I moved on years ago and, uh, on the quiet,' he winked at Harry and tipped his head in the direction of Luna who was sitting beside him, `I think I have my own little romance happening here!'

Hermione turned just as Ron winked and heard his comment. `What's Ron talking about? A romance?' she asked Harry.

Harry leant over, bringing his mouth close to Hermione's ear so that only she would hear him. `I think Ron fancies Luna.'

`So Luna and Neville aren't together?' she queried.

`What?' cried Harry, who'd not made any connection between the fact that Luna and Neville were in close contact after all these years or their obvious ease with each other.

Harry turned to Ron, elbowing him to get his attention.

`What is it, mate?' asked Ron, politely impatient; he was busy talking to Luna.

`Hermione thinks Luna and Neville -'

But Harry got no further. Ron laughed. `They actually did go out for a while, a few years ago - Luna explained it all when she told me about Neville on the way home from the pond the other day. But now they're just really good friends. Like me and Hermione,' he finished with a gleam in his eye.

Harry was speechless for a few seconds, then burst out laughing.

`Point taken!' he exclaimed. He actually poked his best mate in the ribs then and said quietly, `Get on with it, why don't you!'

`You, too!' came the reply, accompanied by a grin and a wink.

`So?' asked Hermione as Harry returned his attention to her.

`It's all okay,' he whispered in her ear. `Luna and Neville are just really good friends - like you and Ron!'

`Good, I'm glad,!' replied Hermione, unable to prevent a little shiver of delight at the feel of Harry's warm breath against her ear and the feel of his lips lightly brushing her hair.

`Listen, Hermione,' said Harry, suddenly serious, `you are all right, aren't you? After last night…'

Hermione tucked her arm through Harry's and dropped her head sideways to lean on his shoulder. She shuddered delicately as she spoke. `It was ghastly, for you and Ron as well as me, I know…reliving all that. But at last we can put it behind us now, at last. I feel as though it's been a five year nightmare and now it's over. It's finally over…'

Harry covered Hermione's hand with his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. `And now we can finally begin, can't we?'

Hermione lifted her head to look at him, aware of her heart racing madly; Harry's voice as he'd spoken had been low and intimate and the way he was looking at her made her glad she was sitting down. Finding herself unable to speak, she simply nodded instead. Harry, his own heart racing at a rate that was way above normal, smiled down at her, the anticipation of future possibilities making him feel light-headed and powerful, all at the same time.

`So now dinner's over, we finally get to hear the story!' cried Ginny, pushing her empty pudding plate away and laughing at her husband as he good naturedly rolled his eyes at her and groaned.

Tearing his eyes away from Hermione, Harry grinned across the table at Ginny. `You won't just get to hear it,' he told her dramatically, `you'll all get to see it!'

The loud babble that followed this remark took a few minutes to die down; there was no equivalent in the Wizarding World for Muggle things such as television and movies and Harry's announcement was unusual and quite unexpected. Whilst everyone was exclaiming over what he'd said, Harry took the opportunity to explain to Ron and Hermione about his idea of using the Pensieve and how it came to be at the Burrow.

`Bloody brilliant idea, mate,' said Ron. `It means we don't have to sit here and actually tell it.'

The relief in Ron's voice was echoed in Hermione's as she said, `That's a wonderful idea, Harry! I was actually dreading having to talk about it all, even though I knew we'd promised to tell everyone. I'd been thinking we could share the telling to make it easier.'

`So, how are we going to be able to see it?' Fred asked Harry above the noise.

`I'll show you,' said Harry, grinning and winking at Molly, `once the table's cleared.' Not surprisingly, this remark saw everything cleared away in record time, Molly commenting dryly that she wished she could have that effect herself.

Afterwards, Harry went into the living room and returned with the white-swathed Pensieve which he placed in the middle of the table, attracting curious looks from everyone. A murmur of surprise passed around the room as Harry removed the covering cloth.

Leaving everyone to talk about the Pensieve for a moment, Harry drew Ron and Hermione aside once more and explained that he would put his memories of the previous night and other relevant events into the empty stone bowl.

`Sounds good,' remarked Ron, relieved. `So Hermione and I don't need to do anything?'

Harry shook his head. `We can sit back and relax, something I think we need to do after what we've been through.'

`Does it matter if it's just your memories, Harry?' queried Hermione.

`It actually won't just be my point of view,' he replied, speaking to them both, `it will be seen by everyone as what actually happened; that's how the Pensieve works.'

`I've always been curious about them,' Hermione mused as she eyed the empty bowl. `I suppose I always thought that it was Dumbledore's point of view - or of the person whose memory it was, back when you told us about your trips into the Pensieve.'

`I did too, originally, but there's more to the Pensieve than that,' Harry assured them. `It will only show a memory actually experienced by someone; that person, or someone else, viewing that memory will see the events as they actually happened and not just from the point of view of the person the memory belongs to. Once I've put my memories in, we three can sit back and relax while everyone else watches what happened.'

Hermione made a dry comment about how useful a Pensieve would be to the Muggle legal profession as the Trio sat down at the table once more. Everyone looked on, fascinated, as Harry held the tip of his wand to his temple, closing his eyes with a look of intense concentration on his face; then as he drew his wand away, a fine silvery thread could be seen clinging to it which he deposited in the shallow stone bowl, he did this three more times before putting his wand away.

Only Molly and Arthur had seen the contents of a Pensieve before - everyone else was intrigued by the bright, whitish silver substance that didn't look like either liquid or gas as it moved ceaselessly within the confines of the bowl.

`What do we do now?' asked Ginny, wriggling impatiently on her seat between Dean and her mother.

Harry stood up, Ron and Hermione following suit as Harry replied. `Firstly, let me explain that you will not be visible to anyone you see in this memory - as far as they are concerned, you don't exist. This is because you were never present during the creation of these memories and it means none of you can be harmed in anyway. Don't forget that, will you? You aren't in any danger, despite what you may be seeing. Now, you'll need to all join hands,' Harry instructed, waiting until they'd done so before continuing, `then you'll need to stand and lean over the bowl, looking into it; those of you nearest to it will need to put your face as close as possible to the surface - as long as you're all holding hands, you'll all go together.'

Harry couldn't help but notice the mixed look of excitement and trepidation on all the faces around the table as they glanced at him before returning their attention to the shining bowl.

Standing between Hermione and Ron, Harry put an arm around each of their shoulders as they watched eight faces lean in towards the bowl. Hermione found herself holding her breath as those closest to the Pensieve - Ginny, on one side of the table and George, opposite her - put their faces as close as possible to the silvery surface. Then as the tip of Ginny's nose touched the substance in the bowl, it began to swirl very fast and a collective “oh!” went round the table at the same moment as Hermione and Ron gasped; everyone around the table was enveloped in a huge, shining white cloud - and then they were gone.

The three friends moved towards the table, blinking.

`Harry! The stuff's gone!' exclaimed Ron, pointing at the bowl.

Harry shook his head. `Watch,' was all he said. And indeed, it became apparent that the contents of the Pensieve still remained and had merely been - for a few seconds - clear and transparent as glass, because as they watched, the strange, silvery-white substance materialised once more, rippling lazily under their gazes.

Ron and Hermione both turned to look at Harry, their faces a picture of amazement.

`Wow,' said Ron, `does that mean they're in there - watching everything that happened last night?'

Harry nodded.

`How long will they be gone?' asked Hermione.

`About three hours I'd say,' he replied. `They'll see from the time we arrived in the graveyard last night - practising the incantation and the actual recital at midnight - the final battle with Voldemort and then -'

`What we experienced after the curse?' asked Ron, his voice hollow.

Harry nodded.

`They'll see us hit by Voldemort's Lightning?' asked Hermione, her voice low as the memory of that moment returned to haunt her.

Harry stared at her. `“Voldemort's Lightning”? How peculiar - that's what I've named it in my head, too.'

Ron was nodding vigorously as Harry spoke, `Me too!' he said.

Smiling wryly, Harry said, `Well, I don't suppose it's very original, is it? I can't imagine what other name you could give it, really. As I said, after that, they'll begin seeing the memory of what happened the night we fought Voldemort in the graveyard, -'

`But what about -' began Ron, but he was interrupted by Harry.

`Don't worry - they'll see everything they need to see,' Harry said, doing his best to sound reassuring.

Hermione shivered then, and Harry gently tightened his arm around her shoulders. `I don't really want to think about it, but it's impossible not to,' she said helplessly.

`It'll pass eventually - like before,' said Ron sombrely. Then a half-smile lifted one corner of his mouth. `I reckon a little bit of Lockhart's Memory Charm would do the trick.'

The memory invoked by this aside drew answering smiles from Harry and Hermione after which Harry said bracingly, `Come on, let's go sit on the couch and get warm. I think some hot chocolate is what's needed right now.'

Ron had taken a seat in one of the arm chairs and after finishing his hot chocolate, he gazed sleepily into the fire through half-closed eyes. His head, of its own accord, fell slowly back until it rested in the comfortable curve of the back of the armchair, Ron complaining in a sleepy voice that he was feeling very drowsy.

`Lack of sleep and nearly freezing to death'll do that every time,' Harry replied, yawning himself. He was sitting at one end of the sofa, Hermione just feet away at the other, her legs tucked under her; she chuckled lazily at Harry's words, grateful she was able to do so now that it was all behind them.

`I know how you feel, Ron,' she said, then covered her mouth as she, too, yawned.

`I've gotta go to bed,' groaned Ron as he pushed himself up out of the armchair, yawning again; a mumbled “good night” was barely audible as he waved to them before heading for the stairs.

Harry saw something moving out of the corner of his eye at that moment and looked up at the clock; it was nine o'clock and two, tiny black eyes were looking at him from the wooden platform above the clock-face. Harry put his finger to his lips and laughed quietly as the two, tiny black eyes were rolled expressively before disappearing. Still smiling, he turned to look at Hermione and felt his heart jump into his throat as he found her gazing at him with such intensity it took his breath away.

`I'm trying to decide,' she said softly, `whether I should cry because we've lost five years we could've had together, or whether I should just be grateful that they're over and we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.'

`I'm grateful we have the rest of our lives to make up for it,' Harry said gruffly, and while he thought it was possible Hermione may have been talking about the three of them, he definitely wasn't…

Swallowing nervously, Harry took a deep breath and held his hand out, palm up, towards Hermione.

Looking down at Harry's hand, Hermione felt a wave of nervous excitement rush through her, setting her stomach to churning wildly. She stretched out her own hand and placed it in Harry's, aware of a loud pounding in her ears as his fingers closed around hers. She raised her eyes to find him watching her, the way he was looking at her causing her breath to catch in her throat.

Without letting go of her hand, Harry stood up slowly, his eyes not leaving hers. Hermione's feet slipped to the floor and she stood too, their clasped hands hanging loosely beside them.

They simply stared into each other's eyes for a few, heart-stopping moments, then Harry spoke, his voice a little hoarse but filled with tenderness; he wanted desperately to tell her what had been at the forefront of his mind once more, ever since he's first seen her again.

`Hermione, after last night, well, you must know how I feel about you, if you didn't already, all those years ago -' Harry closed his eyes in frustration - the words weren't coming out right! He felt Hermione's fingers gently squeeze his in a reassuring gesture and opened his eyes to meet her sparkling brown gaze, every nerve in his body tingling.

`Things would've been so different if Voldemort hadn't cursed us that night,' she said softly, `but we'll never know if the three of us would've been able to remain close with what had happened between us back then. Perhaps the last five years have given us all time to grow up and get to know ourselves - and to know what we really want…'

Hermione's voice trailed off as she felt her hand released, unable to tear her gaze from Harry's - from the look of longing and love in those familiar green depths that was sending rivers of some unnamed emotion crashing through her body. Then she felt his warm, strong hands gently frame her face, one thumb brushing lightly over her parted lips; she reflexively lifted her arms and placed them around Harry's waist at the same time as she took a small step forwards, bringing their bodies within a hair's breadth of touching.

`What I really want, Hermione,' said Harry, unable to prevent the words from forming, his voice low and husky, `is you. You're all I've ever really wanted…or needed. I love you.'

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as tears of joy glistened in her eyes.

`You must know I love you, too,' she whispered, wondering if it was possible for him to hear her over the thunderous noise that was her pounding heart.

`I never really lost hope,' he said softly and then he smiled, his green eyes glowing, reflecting the joy in hers.

Harry was so acutely aware of how close she was it was almost painful - he had to fight an urge to crush her to him, to have as much of her as possible pressed up against him.

`Hermione…' his voice was filled with the pain of long-suppressed desire, of long, lonely hours - days - years…

Then all sense fled as she tightened her arms around him and there was nothing between them anymore; he could feel every soft curve and each firm line and in response, a low sound came from deep inside him, filled with lust, longing and desperate need.

And finally, after the long years of waiting, their lips met, at first sweetly hesitant but as rising passion replaced hesitancy and the kiss deepened, Harry's hands moved, one through the soft tendrils of hair that had escaped her clip, grasping the back of her neck and the other trailing with sensuous intent over her shoulder and down her back to the curve of her waist, holding her tightly, not wanting to let her go, ever…

When they reluctantly drew apart, both breathless, they gazed at each other, speechless.

Hermione smiled tremulously, finally able to murmur, `Wow,' and Harry grinned, dropping his head to rest his forehead against hers.

`Slight understatement, Miss Granger,' he said, his voice husky with emotion.

Hermione sighed. `All those years, everything - now that they're behind us, I can't help but believe it was somehow all worth it.'

`You're worth a lifetime of waiting to me, Hermione,' Harry told her tenderly before kissing her again.

`Mmmmm, this is perfect,' Hermione sighed happily against his lips a few minutes later and Harry smiled in silent agreement.

They soon sat down on the couch, Hermione curled up beside Harry, their arms wrapped around each other and Hermione's head resting on his shoulder. They talked quietly, whispering endearments frequently and kissing often until they, too, eventually fell into a restful sleep, their arms still around each other…

Into The Pensieve

Eight pairs of eyes looked on in horror as the three figures they'd been watching spellbound for an hour crumpled to the ground. The air around the unconscious figures was still crackling ferociously with the last of the malevolent black streaks that had caused their collapse.

`They've collapsed! Fred, George!' cried Molly frantically, turning to look imploringly at her twin sons. `How long before you came to find them?'

`We came just after eight, that was the time we arranged,' replied George, unable to take his eyes off the Trio. `Hermione told us that if they weren't back by eight, we had to come…'

`About six or seven hours from this point,' said Fred, aghast. `It's any wonder they were so cold! I never really believed they'd been lying there for that long!'

Molly was wringing her hands in distress, Arthur putting his arm around her to comfort her.

`Molly, dear, it may look bad, but we know that they're going to be all right - because they are all right.'

Molly nodded, her eyes glued to the unmoving figures as she spoke, her voice an agonised whisper, `I know, I know, but it's just so terrible to see it and not be able to do anything!'

Dean and Ginny were huddled together on the other side of Arthur while Neville and Luna stood, shocked, beside Fred and George.

`What happens now?' asked Ginny, wondering if, after all this time, it was better she didn't find out.

In the next instant, everyone looked around, fear clutching their hearts as a strange fog began to engulf them. It had no sooner than it began to dissolve again and they all looked at each other in complete bewilderment. They were still on the same spot in the graveyard, looking towards the old beech tree - yet the night was darker - the low, black sky was emanating a sense of terrible malevolence…

`Look!' cried Luna as she pointed, unconsciously keeping her voice low despite the fact that they couldn't be heard, `they're standing up!'

And indeed, they could just make out three figures now standing beneath the beech tree.

`Wait, they don't have their cloaks on - what? -' began Fred, thoroughly confused to see the Trio were all now wearing jeans and jumpers.

`Death Eaters!' hissed Arthur, waving his hand in a reflexive, abrupt gesture to silence them all, forgetting it wasn't necessary.

A strangled sound escaped Dean, his voice muted but his words clear. `Dear Merlin! It's the night they fought Voldemort!'

`What?' chorused seven voices filled with dawning horror. They sensed he was right, though; every witch and wizard alive knew the Trio had faced the last of the Death Eaters and then Voldemort himself on this exact spot.

`Look, there's no Spire,' said Neville who had been silent until now. `I'd say that fog was a transition from one memory to another. Dean's right - we're about to witness what no other witch or wizard has ever seen - the Trio's final battle with Voldemort. Their defeat of Voldemort.'

The awe in Neville's voice was present in the heart of each of the spectators as they turned to watch the events of one of the most historic nights in wizarding history unfold…

Voldemort Vanquished

Harry was between Ron and Hermione as they stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the last three Death Eaters move slowly forward. The Trio kept perfectly still, lost in the shadows against the enormous trunk of the huge old beech tree which marked the middle of the graveyard behind Hogwarts. The trunk of the staunch graveyard guardian already bore wounds from misfired spells and curses cast earlier that night. As they stood watching, motionless, they were only just able to make out the three robed and hooded forms moving closer, barely visible in the pre-dawn gloom.

`Now,' whispered Harry, and they each slowly raised their wands, hoping the movement wouldn't draw the attention of the Death Eaters.

`Stupefy!'

As the three streaks of red light flew towards the Death Eaters, Harry saw the hooded figures reflexively whip their wands around to point at the source of the spell - the Trio - simultaneously crying out `Protego!' and dispersing the spell.

And then a voice rang out in the darkness, echoing amongst the old stone statues and gravestones. It was a high, cold voice saturated with terrifying malice and dreadful evil.

`Harry Potter!'

Harry stumbled backwards as mind searing pain erupted from his scar throughout his whole body. He dropped to his knees, his wand still in his right hand, his left hand clutching his forehead, his lips drawn back to expose his clenched teeth in a dreadful grimace of agony.

The Death Eaters dropped to their knees at the sound of their master's voice.

`Ron, keep an eye on them, and watch for Voldemort,' Hermione whispered urgently as she turned to see to Harry.

Keeping her wand at the ready, Hermione dropped to her knees beside Harry and grasped his shoulder, shaking him.

`Harry! Fight it! Come on, please!' she begged, silently willing him to hear her.

Harry heard her voice as though from an enormous distance. The pain was all consuming which meant Voldemort was close. He tried to focus on the spell of protection he'd practised for months now in preparation for just such a moment, but the pain was preventing him from thinking clearly. The spell, he had to remember the spell…Arcis…that was it…Arcis…

`Harry, please! Please, try!' Harry could hear tears in Hermione's voice, which still sounded as though it was coming to him across some incalculable distance, distorted by the enormous pain he was feeling.

`They're still not moving,' said Ron quietly before risking a glance to his right, searching for Voldemort - he had to be nearby.

`Voldemort?' asked Hermione, her gaze still locked onto Harry's pain-ridden countenance.

Ron whipped his head around to the left. The huddled group on the slope across from him instinctively drew back and gasped - he was looking straight at them…wasn't he?

`Can't see anything,' Ron whispered, `but he's probably behind us and we can't see because of the tree.'

`Arcis…'

Hermione sobbed with relief. `Yes, Harry, yes! The spell - say it! Quickly! Please!'

`Arcis…mentis.'

`Again!'

`Arcis mentis!'

The blissful relief that swept through him at the sudden cessation of pain drew a groan from Harry. Hermione began to pull desperately at his arm.

`Thank Merlin! Now, come on, Harry, get up! Quickly! He's coming!'

`There he is!' cried Ron, his voice laced with fear as he caught sight of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort was moving silently towards his remaining Death Eaters, the gliding, black-robed form reminding Harry of the malevolent and menacing Dementors Voldemort had commanded until they'd been defeated by an army of Aurors and Hitwizards a year into the war.

Harry got to his feet, Hermione gripping his arm as they moved a few steps forward to join Ron. Harry was once more standing between Ron and Hermione.

Voldemort was now facing them with his back to the three kneeling Death Eaters, his wand raised as he looked directly at Harry.

`Harry Potter, we come at last to the end!' Voldemort's high, cold voice rang out across the space between them, the contemptuous sneer it contained unmistakeable. `Do you truly believe you can defeat me, Harry? Even your beloved Dumbledore failed! Just who do you think you are?'

Harry straightened his shoulders, his green eyes flashing defiance. `Who am I, Tom? I am the son of Lily and James Potter, who loved me and died for me. I am the one you were unable to kill as a baby. Or as an eleven year old. Or a twelve year old. You failed spectacularly when I was fourteen - remember that night? And yet again when I was fifteen. It would seem that when it comes to you defeating me, you aren't destined to succeed! And you will not do so now. By the way, you didn't kill Dumbledore, Tom - you ordered a lackey to do it and he failed too because you see, Dumbledore chose to die!'

Ignoring Harry's taunts, Voldemort bellowed, `It beggars belief that you have been able to destroy my Horcruxes! I don't doubt you had help from the accursed Dumbledore, even though he's dead! Do you now insist on believing you will survive this night with only a filthy Mudblood and a wretched blood-traitor standing with you?' His voice reached them as though it had been blown across the surface of a sea of ice - so bitterly cold and hate-ridden it made them ache.

Harry felt a surge of certainty and raised his head a little as he shot back, his voice ringing with the knowledge of his own ability, `I have power you know not, Tom.'

Voldemort threw back his head a laughed, a hideous, rasping sound.

`Love?' he spat, as though it was poison on his tongue. `You are pathetic and ludicrous, Harry, as are your companions! Would they choose to die for you, Harry Potter? Those two puerile imbeciles that stand with you?' he crowed, as though amused at the thought, deliberately ignoring Harry's continued use of his original name.

`YES!' cried Hermione and Ron together.

`Then so you will,' stated Voldemort coldly, lifting his arm, his wand pointing directly at Harry's heart across the dark space between them. At last, Harry Potter will die…

Harry immediately threw his arms across the shoulders of his two friends and they moved in closer, putting their arms across each other's shoulders, forming a tight circle, their heads touching.

`Puris!' said Harry, his voice filled with conviction.

`Validus!' Hermione spoke, her voice strong.

`Amor!' cried Ron, already feeling the power of the long-practised incantation forming within and around them.

They repeated the words again, quickly, their voices ringing out, now magically magnified by the incantation.

`Puris Validus Amor! Puris Validus Amor!'

A glowing white mist formed around them.

All this had taken place in a matter of seconds and Voldemort hesitated for an instant, taken aback at the sight of the three huddled forms in the centre of a growing cloud of glittering mist, the words of the incantation echoing in the air around him.

`FOOLS!' he roared, infuriated, as he straightened his wand arm, glaring at the Trio. `To me!' he commanded and the three Death Eaters immediately rose and moved to stand in line beside him, raising their wands.

`Now!' cried Voldemort and four voices, filled with hatred for the trio before them and everything they stood for, rose into the cold gloom.

`Avada Kedavra!'

As soon as they heard the first syllable of the Unforgivable Curse uttered, Ron and Hermione jumped back to stand beside Harry once more, able to see their enemies in the glow of the sickly green light erupting from their wands.

All three pointed their wands at Voldemort and with all the force given them through their love for each other, by their righteous anger and on behalf of the justice that cried out to be done, they roared as one:

`DEBELLO ATROX DELEO!'

Three streaks of blue white light exploded from their outstretched wands, merging into one blinding beam. It moved above the green light of the Killing Curse which, when it reached the sparkling white mist surrounding the Trio, shattered with an ear-splitting screech that echoed throughout the surrounding countryside. The magical mist expanded as it absorbed the Curse, the light becoming a blindingly scintillating pure white, cutting off the Trio's view of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. They could hear tortured screams and agonised curses, but they were muffled as though the mist was absorbing their voices as well.

After what seemed a long time, there came an unearthly silence. The glowing mist began to disperse and slowly drifted away on a gentle breeze. The full moon appeared from behind a ragged, black cloud, casting an eerie, shimmering light.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood rooted to the spot, unable to take in what had happened. They could see what looked like a rumpled heap of black robes strewn across the ground where Voldemort and the Death Eaters had stood.

Then sheer terror clutched at their hearts as a blackened, long fingered, claw-like hand silently rose from amongst the crumpled, smoking pile of robes and debris.

As they stared at the hideous sight, a vicious, cracked whisper was brought to them on the same light breeze that had dispersed the mist.

`Patesco Perturbo Tumultus!'

On hearing those words, spoken so harshly and with such terrifying malice, the Trio knew beyond doubt that what they'd just heard was a curse. Although there was no streak of light accompanying the words, each of the three friends immediately experienced an extremely uncomfortable tingling sensation; their skin prickled and they shuddered with revulsion. Harry felt a momentary surge of pain from his scar, then it subsided. The sight of the ugly, hooked claw as it began to ooze, dissolving into a foul, thick liquid that dripped viscously to the ground had them recoiling in sickened horror.

As the last drop fell, Harry knew.

`He's gone.' Or had he? Harry shivered as though brushed by an echo of the remnants of Tom Riddle's evil spirit in the air around him.

They felt no elation at that moment, simply a release from the fear and torment that had pervaded their lives - and the life of every member of the wizard world. They felt relief, too, but mostly they felt exhaustion begin to creep through them, both physical and emotional. And then it happened - without warning: the three of them fell to their knees, clutching their heads, their screams mangled by the overwhelming pain that threatened to split their skulls open…

No sooner had the eight silent watchers realised that Voldemort had just died and that the Trio were on the ground, screaming and clutching their heads in agony, than the strange fog engulfed them once more. Fear immediately struck at them again as they wondered what they would be witness to next…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note

How nice am I? *grins* Harry and Hermione's kiss AND the first half of the “back story”!

Have a lovely weekend and I'll see you Monday morning! Cheers! Janie xoxo

And of course, the traditional preview…

A harsh, pain-filled growl split the air as Harry fell heavily to his knees. Hermione's scream accompanied the sight of Harry arching convulsively as he threw his head back, his still clenched fists coming to press against his temples. The growl became a roar and then a dreadful, harrowing scream. Hermione attempted to crawl towards Harry but it was useless, her muscles still wouldn't obey her. Ron was still desperately clawing at some invisible barrier to no avail, his face a mask of frustrated, vengeful fury. They didn't notice as the violent red of Harry's scar began to fade… then he collapsed, crumpling to the ground as though lifeless...

PS In case anyone's interested, I made up the spells/curses with the help of the English to Latin Lookup site, for example:

“Purus Validus Amor”

purus: pure, free from, spotless, without stain

validus: strong, robust, able, mighty, powerful, exceeding

amor: love, passion

That site's almost, but not quite, as nifty as The Harry Potter Lexicon.

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Author's Note

Dear Patient Readers,

It is actually very late Monday night for me as I type, and I would firstly like to say thank you, as always, to Kirsti (for all the reasons she knows) and secondly, I am sorry that this is “late” - although for some of you it may not seem to be (thank heavens!). I am actually in the middle of a rather harrowing experience with my darling dad (he was hospitalised yesterday) and between visiting him (and worrying about him) and having family members from the country come to stay with me, I don't have very much time at all at the moment. However, I will be doing my best to keep to my schedule, but if I can't manage it for the next week or so, I hope you'll understand why. In the meantime, please enjoy Chapter Nine…

Janie xoxo

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER NINE

Not one of the eight observers actually saw the fog dissolve for the third time, as each and every one of them had closed their eyes in fear, eager to delay facing the unknown sight awaiting them…

`Anyone know where are we now?' asked Fred.

`Nope,' replied George, `and I don't mind admitting I'm afraid to look.'

`Me too,' said Luna to his left.

`This is ridiculous!' snapped Ginny as she opened her eyes. Her loud, incredulous gasp caused every other eye to spring open and her gasp was echoed by all her companions.

`Arthur! What's happened? Where are we?' cried Molly.

Arthur shook his head, gazing around. It looked as though they were underwater - the quality of the light and the sickly, green-tinged air seemed to ripple and waver; the pale substance that was the ground felt strangely like sand beneath their feet, although it held no resemblance to it whatsoever. There was nothing to be seen in any direction as they looked around, squinting in an attempt to see something, anything through the peculiar, undulating air…

`Look!' called Dean suddenly, `There's Ron!'

`And Harry!' cried Ginny.

`What about -' began Neville, but he was interrupted by George who suddenly yelled, `Hermione!' pointing.

Some way off, the Trio appeared to materialise slowly out of the oppressive, greenish haze, one by one, looking around in a confused manner.

Confident now that they were still watching a memory held within the Pensieve, Arthur strode off towards the Trio, urging everyone to follow him.

As they drew closer to the three friends, they recognised their clothing - it was what they'd worn during the fight with Voldemort.

`What the hell's going on?' demanded Dean, although in truth he didn't expect an answer.

`I think they're wondering the same thing,' commented Luna, peering at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were now looking at each other, frowning. Their hands were still held to their heads, although their faces no longer showed any sign of pain.

`Ron!' Hermione's fists clenched as they dropped to her hips, her face twisted into a mask of disgust. `This must be your doing - it's your fault!' she spat at him scathingly.

Ron's hands fell to his sides as he turned and glared ferociously at Hermione.

`My fault?' he hissed at her, `My fault! If it's anyone's fault, Hermione, it would be yours!'

`Shut it, Ron!' ordered Harry superciliously.

`Oh, yeah, of course, stupid me - I forgot! You can't say anything against Little Miss Perfect, especially not in front of The Chosen One!'

Those watching cringed at the sneering contempt in Ron's voice, Molly making an inarticulate sound of horror as she grabbed her husband's arm.

Harry took two steps and reached out, grabbing Ron's jumper at the throat and snarling, `You're right Weasley, you are stupid!'

Hermione gave a short, scornful laugh. `Jealous again, Ron?'

Ron twisted from Harry's grasp, pushing him away as he whirled to face Hermione, his face contorted with rage.

`You vain little b-'

Ron got no further as Harry's fist collided with the side of his head and he dropped to his knees, nausea clawing at his stomach from the pain that exploded behind his eyes.

`Typical,' sneered Hermione.

`What are you on about?' demanded Harry, glaring at her.

Ron drew himself slowly to his feet, holding his head. `Shut up both of you! You make me sick!' he croaked.

`Go to hell!' ordered Hermione, her voice full of contempt.

Suddenly, Harry fell to his knees; Ron and Hermione saw his face twist with pain before he dropped his head into his hands.

`Harry, what -' began Ron and Hermione together, getting no further as they, too, frantically clutched at their heads once more, the pain suddenly returning - so severe they couldn't even moan.

The eight watchers barely had time to register shock at what they'd been witnessing when they became aware of what felt like a breeze, lifting the corners of their robes and sending strands of hair into their eyes. It seemed almost alive and held a ghastly, stagnant malice, making them shudder as the sluggish tendrils whirled around them. Words had formed in all their heads, but stayed frozen on their tongues as a piercingly evil whisper filled the air around them. They weren't able to make sense of what they were hearing - the erratic cadence vile and repugnant to their senses.

`What is it saying?' whispered Ginny, desperately straining to make out the words.

`Can't quite make it out,' replied Arthur, his frustration evident in his voice.

`Harry said we wouldn't really exist in these memories, that we couldn't be harmed,' said Fred quietly. `So how is it we can actually feel that -' he shuddered involuntarily, `awful sort of presence?'

No one, of course, could answer as no one knew or understood what was happening.

`Luna?' Neville's concerned voice broke into the uncertain silence and they all turned to see Neville looking anxiously at Luna, his hand resting on her shoulder.

Luna's gaze had become rather dreamy and faraway and when she spoke, it was in a soft, eerie whisper, her words surprising them all…

`Disturb…loathing…anger…expose…hatred…disrupt…evil whispers…destroy…hatred…distort… hatred…'

Neville grasped Luna's upper arms, his expression apprehensive as he said her name again. She stopped whispering and gave her head a shake as though trying to clear it, looking up at Neville with fear and confusion on her face.

`You all right?' asked Neville.

Luna nodded. `I think so,' she replied, just as she began to tremble, tears trickling down her cheeks. `This is a place of terrible evil and so much hatred I can't bear it!'

Neville pulled her to him in a comforting embrace.

Molly was wringing her hands as she looked helplessly at the Trio, who were still obviously in pain.

`Isn't there anything we can do?'

`Mum, this was years ago, remember?' Fred exchanged a worried look with this father - they were both becoming aware of a feeling of melancholy creeping through them. Arthur glanced round at the rest of the group, not surprised to see by their expressions that they all appeared to be affected by the same feeling.

`I just wish I knew what this was all about,' said Arthur, voicing the same thought on everyone's mind. Then, as they all watched, the Trio slowly stood up, rather unsteadily, their hands dropping hesitantly to their sides as though they expected the pain to return at any moment. They looked at each other uncertainly. Those watching were horrified to see the expressions of the three friends slowly twist into masks of loathing once more as they gazed at each other.

`Get the hell away from me!' snarled Harry. `I mean it, get away from me! Now! Back off!'

`You get away from me!' Ron yelled back.

`I mean it you idiot! Back way! You too, Hermione!' growled Harry as he threw his head back, gritting his teeth, his eyes screwed shut; he appeared to be having some sort of enormous, internal struggle.

The next few seconds seemed to contain an eternity - then Harry slowly lifted one foot, groaning as though the movement caused him pain; he took one agonisingly slow step backwards. `Move!' he hissed between clenched teeth as he took another step.

They never knew exactly what made them obey Harry, whether it was the sight of his tormented visage or the horror at seeing his scar slowly redden, but Hermione and Ron began to move backwards, slowly increasing the distance between themselves and Harry.

As the three figures gradually moved away from each other, step by step, inch by inch, Ginny felt two tears slowly trickle down her cheeks.

`What's happening?' she whispered, moving closer to Dean and burrowing her head into his chest. Dean put his arms around her as he shook his head.

`I don't know, sweetheart, but whatever this is, it must be part of what's kept them apart for all these years.' Dean shuddered. `You can feel the hatred - it's ghastly!'

Ginny nodded. `I feel like curling up in a ball and just crying!'

Arthur had gathered Molly to him; she was crying too. Neville still had his arms around Luna, trying to comfort her, while Fred and George continued to gaze sadly at the Trio, who were now standing about ten feet apart, glaring at each other.

As the distance between them increased, Harry seemed to relax imperceptibly. `This is Voldemort's doing,' he ground out through clenched teeth.

`Smart guess, Potter,' said Hermione sarcastically.

`You're the smart arse, Hermione,' sneered Ron, `why don't you explain this?'

`I doubt you'd understand even if I could, Ron!'

`Ron! Don't! Keep moving away! Both of you!' cried Harry as Ron took a step towards Hermione, his expression murderous. Harry took a few more steps backwards, watching Ron and Hermione as they did the same, obeying something deeper than their apparent hatred.

`Hermione, move back a little more; Ron, you too.' Harry's voice was still strained as though it was taking a huge effort for him to speak.

Ron and Hermione glared at Harry but slowly moved back a few steps, their feet moving as though they were walking in thick mud.

`Keep going!' cried Harry, who was also struggling to move backwards.

They'd managed to bring a distance of almost twenty feet between themselves, with Ron now a mere six feet from his huddled parents; he had his back to them and they could see his breathing was laboured.

`Hermione, do you feel any different?' asked Harry. He was the furthest from the group, yet his voice carried clearly in the strange, rippling air.

Hermione looked confused as she glanced from Ron to Harry. `I - I think so - I don't think I feel quite so angry or…'

`Ron?'

Ron nodded, his voice terse. `At least the urge to strangle either of you isn't as strong,' he growled.

`Me too,' said Harry.

`He cursed us,' said Hermione flatly, her statement unchallenged.

`So where the hell are we? What's happening?' asked Ron, taking another step backwards; his fists were clenched by his sides, his knuckles white.

`I wish I knew!' said Hermione dully as she sank slowly into a sitting position, wrapping her arms around herself; it was a futile attempt at self-comfort…

Staring at Hermione, Ron followed suit, his long legs awkwardly crossed in front of him; at least he couldn't suddenly run and lunge at her or Harry from this position, he thought. He became aware of a strange, sibilant sound, carried on a foul, lifeless breeze that had sprung up and turned to look at Harry…

The now huddled group of watchers became aware once more of the noxious breeze as it moved menacingly about them, bringing with it the sinister sounds of the evil whisper they'd heard earlier - only this time it was more than a whisper, slowly getting louder until it sounded as though a chorus of rank spirits was chanting some oppressively venomous verse…

Fear closed their eyes once more and they turned their faces from the horrifying spectacle that was unfolding…but they could still hear and found themselves drawn to watch despite their trepidation…

As Ron turned to look at Harry, his blood froze in his veins, a horrified gurgling sound issuing from him. Hermione looked across at him on hearing it and immediately followed his gaze, terror striking her dumb as she looked at Harry.

Harry was still standing. But he wasn't Harry. His scar was now glowing, it was a sickening blood-red and his eyes appeared to be the same colour as they gazed with malicious delight at Ron, a ghastly rictus stretching his lips in a poor imitation of a smile.

`He fights, the wretched, filthy blood-traitor!'

Hermione whimpered and Ron moaned at the harsh viciousness of that voice filled with unspeakable hatred. Hermione's made no sound as her lips formed the word, `Voldemort!'

`Leave him alone you rotten bastard!' bellowed Ron furiously, his hatred finding a new target.

Both he and Hermione clapped their hands to their ears in an attempt to block out the harsh sound of the piercingly smug and arrogant laughter that followed.

`Did you know, Mudblood, that the blood-traitor-Weasley lied to you?' The voice sounded inside their heads - there was no escaping it. Their hands dropped, useless, to their laps, their gazes trapped by the sight of Harry's face filled with inhumanly spiteful amusement.

The hateful, gloating laughter returned.

`He only pretended to feel no rancour at letting you go - I can see his thoughts! He still loved you!' A hideous sound, meant to be laughter, assaulted their ears. `Oh, this is even better! When he realised you and Potter were, shall we say, interested in each other, he had to work hard not to hate you both!'

`That's not true! You're lying!' shouted Ron.

`Shut up, traitor,' spat Voldemort's voice, and Ron jerked as a spasm of fierce pain ripped through him and he was rendered speechless.

`Potter's quite potty about Miss Filthy Mudblood!' crowed Voldemort nastily.

`Shut up!' screamed Hermione - then screamed again when she felt something ripple through her mind. The awful sensation was followed by the sound of a hideous cackle.

`And the Mudblood loves Potter! So sorry, Weasley - you lose again!'

Hermione watched in escalating terror as Harry - Voldemort? No! She had to think of him as Harry! - began to walk jerkily towards her, as if he was being forced against his will - or fighting another will…

`Perhaps you and I, Mudblood, should -' but he got no further. The cruel, venomous voice stopped abruptly and silence descended…

As the silence continued, Neville stared, enthralled and horrified at the same time. Glancing around, he noticed dimly that all the others had the same expression on their face. Despite Harry's assurances earlier that their presence was undetectable and despite knowing the Trio had survived this night, not one of them felt able to stand up fearlessly and watch what was happening with complete objectivity - or even just simple curiosity. The stark reality of what the Trio had endured this night in their quest to defeat Voldemort hit the horrified observers hard. All this - and then the trials they'd suffered over the last five years…it was hard to comprehend the price the Trio had paid, how much they'd given and what they'd sacrificed to ensure the safety of the wizarding world…

Hermione and Ron were unable to take their eyes off Harry - they couldn't bear to think of him as anything else - watching wretchedly as he stood motionless, unable to take another step. Then he shut his eyes and the awful red gaze was thankfully hidden behind tightly closed lids. Harry's head tilted backwards slightly; his scar was still glowing, although now a dirty, dark red colour. Hermione and Ron looked on helplessly as Harry's fists became so tightly clenched that the knuckles strained at the skin, threatening to tear it. The muscles in his jaws and neck worked furiously as his lips drew back, revealing tightly clenched teeth.

Hermione watched, her whole body unbearably tense, her eyes unblinking as tears streamed down her face. Ron looked as though he was straining uselessly against invisible bonds - his arms reaching out towards Harry, his face the white pallor of death, he was still unable to speak.

`Arthur!' Molly's cry held such deep despair and paralysing fear it sent a convulsive shiver through everyone watching.

`Molly, it will be all right because they are all right!' repeated Arthur, trying to infuse as much reassurance as he could manage into his voice. He held his trembling wife tightly to him, turning to make sure everyone else was all right. He saw Dean and Ginny with their arms wrapped around each other, both their faces wet with tears. Fred and George had thrown their arms around each other's shoulders and Arthur thought they looked as though they were just about to be sick. Neville was holding Luna tightly; he looked terrified and infuriated at the same time.

Neville looked back at Arthur. `How is it none of us realised?' he ground out.

`Realised what?' asked Arthur.

`The magnitude of what they did - of what they went through! We were all so damned busy trying to satisfy our own petty curiosity we never gave them a thought!'

`I always felt that we'd let them down, somehow,' said Ginny quietly.

`They don't want fame and fuss,' said Luna in her strangely ethereal voice, `they just want to be happy.'

`Harry!' Molly's shriek cut through their conversation and everyone immediately turned to look at Harry, their hearts jumping to their throats.

A harsh, pain-filled growl split the air as Harry fell heavily to his knees. Hermione's scream accompanied the sight of Harry arching convulsively as he threw his head back, his still clenched fists raised to press against his temples. The growl became a roar and then a dreadful, harrowing scream. Hermione attempted to crawl towards Harry but it was useless, her muscles still wouldn't obey her. Ron was still desperately clawing at some invisible barrier to no avail, his face a mask of frustrated, vengeful fury. In the extremity of their distress, they didn't notice the violent red of Harry's scar begin to fade, Hermione screaming for all of them as he collapsed, crumpling to the ground as though lifeless...

`Harry!' The name echoed eerily - Hermione's fearful scream and Ron's bellowing roar mingling - his voice returned to him - and then suddenly, they found themselves able to move: Hermione crawled to where Harry lay while Ron, lurching unsteadily, reached him at the same time.

Ron dropped to his knees beside Harry, and as his gaze met Hermione's across their friend's prostrate form, some insidious force seemed to slam into him and he fell sideways. Looking around desperately for the cause, he saw only Hermione, looking at him, her eyes clouded with some oppressively dark emotion. Anger surged within him as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

`What the hell did you do that for?' he yelled.

`I didn't do anything, you idiot!'

`Like hell you didn't!' shouted Ron as he tried to stand up.

`GET AWAY FROM ME!'

Ron and Hermione both jumped then looked down at Harry; he was glaring at them both.

`NOW!'

Something inside them, something tenuous they couldn't name, made them obey and they moved away, Hermione still half crawling, half pushing herself, Ron stumbling and slipping as he too, moved back to where he'd been.

Harry pushed himself up onto his elbow, his breathing laboured, his face showing he was in pain.

`He's…nearly…gone…then we'll go back…'

`Back where?' asked Ron, his voice heavy with exhaustion and pain. `And who's gone, Harry? V - V - Voldemort?'

`What? Harry! Harry, what are you saying?' cried Hermione, her voice breaking, tears once more streaming down her face.

`Soon, my love, soon…'

`Merlin's holy beard! Look!' cried Dean unexpectedly, pointing with a trembling finger at three figures that had appeared in the haze beyond the Trio.

`Who the hell is that?' cried George. `It can't be -'

`I think it is,' said Dean, peering into the distance.

Everyone began murmuring amongst themselves about the three figures.

`It's Harry, Ron and Hermione as we know them…' said Luna in an ethereal whisper.

`They have their travelling cloaks on!' cried Ginny, sounding greatly relieved.

`So?' asked Fred, gaping at his younger sister as though she was mad.

Ginny rolled her eyes, her expression animated and happy.

`Don't you see?' she exclaimed, `They're the Trio from now - from our time! This was what they must've done last night. They're here - they've come back to - well, I'm not sure what they're going to do, but it has to have something to do with whatever went wrong…'

`But weren't they unconscious back in the graveyard last night?' asked Neville.

Ginny looked crestfallen. `I forgot about that…'

`Besides, what could they possibly do now, all these years later?' asked Fred, watching as the “new” Harry, Ron and Hermione moved purposefully towards them - or rather, towards the three figures on the ground in front of them, who seemed oblivious to the new arrivals.

`What are they doing?' asked Molly apprehensively as they watched the Trio came closer and closer until they stood just the other side of the now almost unconscious Trio on the ground. Three wands were lifted in unison as the standing Trio pointed them at their counterparts lying in front of them.

It was as they heard the beginning of what they knew to be some sort of spell, spoken by the Trio who had just arrived, that the peculiar fog formed around them once more for the fourth and final time. Each of those watching felt the horribly familiar fear clutch at their insides yet again; fear of what was to come, fear of what they would see, fear of the unknown…

As their vision returned, relief swept through the weary group at the familiar sights of the Burrow's kitchen. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting at the table and appeared to be alone. The table was set for tea - there were the cups and saucers and the teapot sat, under a bright, frilly cosy in the middle of the table, with the sugar bowl and jug of heated milk beside it. There was also a small, crystal decanter filled with a pale mauve liquid, surrounded by three, small crystal glasses.

`We're home!' breathed Molly, relief making her feel weak.

`But when is this?' asked Ginny, peering anxiously around.

`Oy, Mum,' said George, pointing at some knitting which lay, unmoving, across back of one of the empty kitchen chairs, `isn't that -'

`- the jumper you gave us for Christmas the year old You-Know-Who kicked the cauldron?' finished Fred.

Molly studied the half knitted jumper, a small frown of concentration creasing her brow.

`Hmm, emerald green with brown trim, yes, I believe that was to match your new dragonskin jackets, the ones you both bought to celebrate You-Know-Who's defeat…I believe you're right, boys.'

`And no cymbal-bashing, happy little Hagrid, either,' commented Dean dryly.

`So this is just before Christmas - not long after they'd defeated Voldemort?' asked Neville.

`It sure is,' put in Dean, pointing to a copy of the Daily Prophet lying on the sink nearby; the date under a photo of the Trio waving, holding up their Orders of Merlin (First Class) was five years earlier.

Arthur nodded. `The fourth and last memory we're going to see, I'd wager,' he said.

`What's that purple stuff?' asked Luna suddenly, drawing everyone's attention back to the Trio.

`It's not lasting as long,' said Ron sourly as Hermione picked up the delicate decanter and a tablespoon and carefully measured one and a three-quarter tablespoonfuls of the mauve liquid into the three glasses before passing one each to Harry and Ron.

`I did tell you it wouldn't,' said Hermione evenly. `Its effects have actually lasted longer than I'd hoped.' She didn't voice her belief that this was due to the strength of the Trio's bond and their love for each other. With a heartfelt sigh, she continued, “The remaining time for which it will have any effect is short and we need to save it for the future - for when we'll need to get together to dispel the curse. So we'll need to part in the next day or so.' She put the glass to her lips and drained it. Ron and Harry did the same and before anyone spoke again, Hermione drew out her wand and tapped the decanter, spoon and three glasses in turn, making them disappear. She then drew the three teacups towards her and began to pour tea for each of them.

`Hermione,' said Harry quietly as he watched her, `I know you haven't really had any time to work on -' he hesitated, before continuing, `- our problem - but do you have any idea how long it may take to find a solution?'

Hermione sighed again, a faintly despairing sound. Passing a cup to Ron, she said, `Now that the celebrations and so forth are out of the way, I'll be leaving for Beauxbatons soon,' she passed Harry his cup of tea, their gazes meeting, then sliding away, `and since I don't actually have to take up my position until early next year, I'll have a few weeks to research it.' She didn't say how terribly afraid she was that it would take far longer than just a few weeks to get to the bottom of this. It was a devastatingly strong curse.

`So how's it going to work?' asked Ron, sounding weary. `Will you be able to come up with a new, improved version of the Peace Potion?'

Hermione lifted her teacup to her lips and sipped gingerly at the steaming liquid before answering.

`It wouldn't help. From the outset, I knew the Peace Potion would only be a stopgap solution in the face of the strength of Voldemort's curse.' Ron shuddered out of habit at the sound of their enemy's name and Hermione closed her eyes momentarily in exasperation before going on.

`We all thought it was important to get through the, well, celebrations…' Hermione faltered, feeling the irony of the situation. What was there for them to celebrate? Voldemort may be destroyed but her two closest, dearest friends had been taken away from her because of it. The man she loved had been taken away before they'd even had time to properly acknowledge their feelings… She glanced across at Harry, colour rising in her cheeks when she found his intense gaze resting on her.

`But you'll work really hard at it, won't you Hermione? So you and Harry can -`

Harry's voice cut across Ron's bitterly spoken words, `Enough, Ron. We've covered that.'

`You've covered it, Harry, not me!' He glared at Harry. `That bloody Potion doesn't stop me from -'

`Ron, please!'

`Please what, Hermione? Please pretend You-Know-Who didn't say what he said that night? Pretend I never loved you? Pretend it didn't hurt when I found out how you two felt about each other?' Ron's voice rose with each question until he was almost shouting as he stood up abruptly, his chair almost falling over.

`You stopped loving me a long time before that! You know you did!' cried Hermione before she dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking as she began to cry.

`I know. And you never loved me anyway,' said Ron bitterly.

Harry rose, glaring at Ron as he moved around to sit next to Hermione, putting his arm around her shoulders.

Ron stared at them and his shoulders slumped.

`I never hated you, Harry - or you, Hermione,' he said, sounding lost. `You-Know-Who was lying but even now, that bloody curse just mixes everything up and makes it all so -'

`Horrible!' finished Hermione, lifting her tear-stained face to Ron. `I would never deliberately hurt you, Ron! I feel so awful, so guilty…'

Ron sighed as he dropped back into his seat. `No need to feel guilty, Hermione. I don't blame you. Or Harry.'

`Ron,' said Harry softly, `I would never have -'

Ron chuckled, a hollow, desolate sound. `I know, mate. I know you. And Hermione. I know you're the kind of friend that would be stupid enough to give up his own happiness, so as not to hurt someone you love.'

`Stupid? Now, just a minute!'

Ron, suddenly looking tired, waved away Harry's indignant words. `Perhaps I'm more susceptible to this bloody curse than either of you. I don't mean you're stupid, mate, it's just - what does Hermione call it? - your “saving people thing” in action again. You save people from all sorts of things, without stopping to think about yourself. Even to your own detriment. You've always done it, and you always will. Now, where were we before I so rudely interrupted?'

Hermione gave Harry a weak smile of reassurance. `I'm all right,' she whispered. Harry sat back, but left his arm across the back of Hermione's chair.

`We can't keep relying on the Peace Potion,' Hermione said, `so we're going to have to…'

`Separate. Stay away from each other,' said Harry bitterly; they'd discussed this numerous times before.

Hermione nodded. `And I still think it's best if we keep this quiet. Nothing will be gained by telling anyone and, well, it's not something I'd want to talk about to anyone, anyway. I, for one, certainly don't feel up to going over this with Rita Skeeter or any of her colleagues.' Hermione took a deep breath. `Since I'll be in Paris, you'll be in Ireland,' she looked at Ron, `and you'll be at Hogwarts, Harry, we'll just have to each stay in our - appointed positions. Until I get to the bottom of that wretched curse.'

`It's going to take some doing, isn't it?' asked Ron quietly.

Hermione nodded. `This is Voldemort we're talking about, after all. But I'll find a way.'

`I don't doubt it for a second,' said Harry, giving her a lopsided grin.

`So it's agreed - we say nothing, and I mean nothing, to anyone - not even our families - about this. I'll only contact you once I believe I've found a solution, and not before - I don't think there's any point until we can actually see each other again. How ever long it takes.'

Ron and Harry both looked at her, their expressions sombre, and nodded, fortunately unaware of how long it would eventually take…

Once more the vision of those looking on was clouded by the strange fog, but this time it was accompanied by a peculiar feeling of rising into the air and then they all felt as though they performed a slow motion somersault before suddenly landing in the very same spots they'd occupied before “leaving”.

Feeling oddly disorientated, they looked around the room, which was lit only by a few candles and the dying fire.

`Where are Harry, Ron and Hermione?' Molly said first what was on all their minds.

Fred and George had gone through to the living room and putting their fingers to their lips, gestured to the others.

`Ron must be upstairs, asleep,' whispered George.

Walking carefully, everyone filed in and felt relief at the sight of the sleeping couple on the lounge. Molly pulled out her wand and drew up a blanket, which she gently placed around them. Luna padded quietly across the room and disappeared up into the dark stairwell.

`Come on, back to the kitchen,' whispered Molly. `I'll make us some tea. Leave them sleep.' She felt tears form in her eyes, unbidden, at the sight of Harry and Hermione curled up in each other's arms.

Upstairs, Luna tiptoed over to Ron's bed and leant down to kiss him on the cheek. As she turned to leave and rejoin the others downstairs, she couldn't help but smile on hearing Ron murmur her name softly in his sleep.

When the noisy pandemonium broke out, it was decided there was no one to blame except Fred and George - after all, they'd been the ones who'd given their parents the clock in the first place…

It was at the stroke of midnight, while Molly was replenishing empty cake and biscuit plates and putting the kettle on again for the second round of tea, that a little bearded figure peered at them from a distance and decided that since they were all up, it must be safe to strike the hour. The first clash of the miniature cymbals made the men jump and the women squeal. The second clash had a half-awake Hermione grabbing Harry around the neck in fright. Harry, startled, woke up wondering whether he was in more danger from strangling-by-Hermione or death-by-stampede as Fred, George and Arthur all ran into the room in a futile and too-late effort to shut Hagrid up. The third clash reached Ron who lifted his head, looked around woozily and wondered what the dreadful noise was.

Arthur spoke harshly to the keeper-of-the-clock-and-cymbals who nevertheless rebelliously clashed his cymbals nine more times in quick succession, glaring at everyone as he did so and looking very put out before retreating, vowing to himself not to return before sun rise.

Ron came stumbling down the stairs, yawning, only mildly surprised to see everyone up. `Well, now I'm awake,' he managed, `I may as well join you for a cuppa.'

Luna clapped her hands delightedly. `Yes, please! It will be nice to talk to you. It'll help disperse those awful memories.' She shuddered delicately.

A profound silence followed Luna's words as “those awful memories” once more made their presence felt.

Harry and Hermione were standing in front of the couch, Harry's arm around her shoulders. Ron was caught in mid-stretch and everyone else just stood where they were.

Ron then made a sound which was actually a strangled laugh.

`Luna, don't ever change,' he said quietly as he walked over to her, taking her hands in his and gazing down at her tenderly.

Despite the chance to question the Trio, Neville regretfully took his leave. `I have to work tomorrow and a few hours' sleep is better than none!' He was, however, invited back for dinner the following day and accepted readily.

No one else appeared eager to leave, however, and more tea was made. As they settled around the table, the expectation was almost palpable...

Once more sitting between Ron and Hermione, Harry was acutely aware of what these people had witnessed that night and wondered, not for the first time, whether he'd done the right thing in using the Pensieve and said so aloud.

`You did the right thing,' said Arthur promptly, `don't worry about that, Harry. I admit it was rather harrowing to see things that way and it was rather distressing finding out something of what you all - well, went through. I'm sure everyone here would agree that we certainly have a far better understanding now.'

Everyone was nodding in silent agreement as Arthur spoke, and Harry felt a measure of relief. His main reason for using the Pensieve had been to spare Hermione and Ron - as well as himself - the ordeal of recounting the events, and he realised now that he hadn't given a lot of thought to how it may affect those watching.

`So, is there anything any of you want to ask us about?'

The babble of voices that broke out following Harry's question made it very clear that there were a lot of questions to be answered. It took quite some time to cover everything and it was many hours later before everyone eventually made their way to bed…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note

I will do my best to upload the next Chapter by the end of the week everyone (circumstances allowing), I promise.

Preview:

It was Molly again, who asked, `What about the things you said to each other?' She looked from Hermione to Harry and back. `What about how you felt about each other? And Ron?'

Each of the Trio dropped their heads for a moment before looking at each other. As though some silent agreement had taken place, Ron spoke first.

`You all know that back at Hogwarts, during our sixth year, that, well - Harry and Ginny went out for a while and everyone assumed Hermione and I - well…' Ron's voice faltered, his eyes glued to the table top between his clenched fists. Hermione gently placed a hand over one of those fists and squeezed gently before taking up the explanation.

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Author's Note

Two very simple and heartfelt words for each and every one of you who has left their thoughts about my dad: Thank you. Each word, each prayer and each thought is appreciated more than you know. For the time being, he's out of hospital (surgery lies ahead) and we have our fingers crossed.

“Reunion” has become a welcome refuge and it makes me happy to share it with you, so here - at last! - with the usual bushel of thanks to the irreplaceable Kirsti, is Chapter Ten…

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER TEN

Q & A Time

`Did you hear what he said?' asked Fred, a look of utter amazement on his face as he gazed at Harry. `He wants to know if there's anything we want to ask him about?'

`You'd be better off asking what we don't want to ask about, mate,' said George, grinning.

`Because that would be precisely nothing!' added Fred.

`All right, you two, that's enough,' said their father, although not harshly, `I think Harry gets the point.'

`Perhaps we should take turns,' put in Dean, `because each of us may well have different questions.'

`And at least five hundred of them,' muttered Fred.

`Sounds fair,' said Ron, looking to Harry and Hermione who both nodded their agreement.

`Who goes first then?' asked Ginny, drawing a chorus of “me's”, making everyone laugh.

`I think we should start with you, dear,' Molly said to Arthur when the laughter had subsided, `and then just move 'round the table - me, Ginny, Dean, Fred, George and then Luna.'

`Excellent idea, my dear,' Arthur told her, beaming; no one disagreed so he turned to Harry, saying, `I wanted to ask about the first memory we saw, Harry, and I think it would be easiest if we moved through the memories in the order we saw them. I'm sure that'd be the least confusing for us all. Does everyone agree?'

Everyone did and as Harry nodded, he replied, `Fire away, Mr Weasley.'

`Well, I'm really curious about those flashes we saw around the Spire of Death - what were they? They looked like some kind of strange lightning.'

`We all thought of that as “Voldemort's Lightning”. Hermione knew about that -' Harry hesitated, looking at Hermione, sitting on his right. `Actually, I think Hermione's more qualified to explain this than I am.'

Hermione gave him a small smile as she nodded, then looked around at everyone in turn as she began to speak.

`It took a long time and a lot of research, but I eventually learnt that the Spire of Death had undoubtedly become a receptacle of what, under normal circumstances, would've been Voldemort's ghost. However, the particular spell we used that night prevented him from -'

`That spell - it stopped the Killing Curse! How did you come up with it?' exclaimed Dean excitedly.

`Wait!' cried Arthur, holding up his hand. `We'll get to that. Let's just take it one question at a time, eh?'

Realising he'd interrupted, Dean apologised with an embarrassed grin. `Sorry,' he said sheepishly, `it just slipped out!'

`Don't worry, honey,' whispered Ginny with feeling, `I know precisely how you feel!'

`Back to the lightning and Voldemort's ghost, Hermione,' said Arthur, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table.

Hermione sat back in her chair, her clasped hands resting on the table; she looked for all the world like a teacher giving a lecture…

`The spell we used that night actually prevented Voldemort becoming a ghost. We're certain that's what he would've done as that choice that was still available to him. Despite what he'd done to his soul with the Horcruxes, there was still a remnant remaining in his body. We believed it was essential he was prevented from doing that as, even in ghost-form, Voldemort would've been capable of wreaking all sorts of havoc - he'd become a rallying point for all his Death Eaters and very probably recruit a lot of new ones. He'd also probably attract a lot of unsavoury ghosts.'

Everyone was looking rather dumbfounded at this revelation and Hermione allowed them a few seconds to absorb it before continuing.

`In place of a ghost, the last dregs of Voldemort's memory or essence, including his final action - the curse he threw at us - became embedded in the very earth on which he died and then, when the Spire was erected, this “left-over Voldemort” as I called it to myself, was drawn into something more material than the mere earth which it had originally infected. My research showed that to reverse the effects of the curse, we would have to “re-visit” the time during which it was cast. That was possible only if the three of us returned to the same spot on the night of a full moon and called forth the memory and the “left-over Voldemort” held in the Spire. The incantation we used did just that - but it also meant that we had to re-live that night ourselves so that we could reach the point at which we'd be able to change what happened. That was why we had to re-enter that place you saw in the third memory - the place of the curse.'

Hermione paused to take a few sips of her tea.

`So that's why the next memory took us to the night you defeated Voldemort? Because it was the night he cursed you?' asked Arthur.

All three nodded, Hermione putting her cup down carefully before continuing.

`That's what the three of us experienced after Voldemort's Lightning hit us last night. The foundation of the incantation allowed our conscious selves to re-visit that night while another part protected our bodies to a certain extent, although not as well as I'd hoped. I knew we would be lying there, unconscious, for some time and so I spoke to Professor McGonagall and Fred and George just in case.'

`Which is why we went off -' began Fred, `- on our rescue mission,' finished George with a grin at his brother.

Molly rolled her eyes expressively; she didn't like to remember the state of the Trio when they'd first been brought back the previous night. `My turn,' she said quickly, revealing a measure of uncharacteristic impatience. `So, how did you come up with that spell? Or perhaps I should say spells - the first one that surrounded you in that mist and the second one that you shot at Voldemort and the Death Eaters?'

`That was amazing!' interjected Dean again. `I don't know which did more damage - the spell you shot off at them or their curse rebounding off that misty shield and hitting them!'

`Dean!' admonished Molly, but Ron answered nevertheless. `Hermione came up with those, of course,' he said. `All that swotting in the library paid off in the end.'

Hermione gave a light-hearted groan at Ron's words, Harry chuckling along with everyone else.

`All right, back to Hermione,' put in Ginny, drawing chuckles from everyone else, including Hermione, although serious silence soon descended as she continued.

`To be honest, we weren't absolutely certain that the ancient Spell of Protection would work, strong as it was. It was a relief when it did, and an even bigger relief when the Spell of Destruction also worked. Ridiculous as it may sound, I'd forgotten how indescribably ghastly that night had been. I can see now that I deliberately pushed the memory away all these years.'

`I'm sure you all did that,' said Dean solemnly, `and for very good reason.' He shivered slightly, the horrors of what he'd seen that night tugging unpleasantly at his mind.

`I knew,' said Hermione quietly, `that we'd have to re-live everything that happened that night and I tried to prepare us all, but -'

Ron leaned a little closer to her and Harry put his arm across the back of her chair; she smiled gratefully at each of them for their small signs of unspoken support.

`- but it was almost as awful last night as it was that night five years ago. And after the curse -' Hermione couldn't prevent the shudder that passed through her or the tears that threatened to spill over, `- I'm still not really sure where we were, I just think of it as the “place of the curse”, but I've come to believe that during that interlude, Voldemort's curse on us was set in place and sealed. I think only someone like Voldemort would be capable of creating such a place - I've always wondered if that's what his mind was like…horrible and evil and…' she shuddered again.

`That awful place!' whispered Luna, her large blue eyes looking haunted.

`I've also come to believe,' ventured Hermione, `that what was left of Voldemort - what would've become his ghost - is what possessed Harry.'

`And that was truly ghastly!' breathed Ginny.

`It was,' said Harry laconically, attempting to lighten things a little. Ginny simply stared at him, her eyes showing how disturbing she'd found the night's revelations.

`Sorry,' said Harry, turning once more to Hermione. When he saw that she was looking a little distressed by her recount, he gave her a reassuring smile and took up the explanation himself.

`After Voldemort managed to curse us, we found ourselves in that horrible place. The air was so thick with hate and evil it was overwhelming. Even while part of me was aware of what I was doing - and aware that it was wrong - I was helpless to do anything about it. Which only added to the horror…'

`That's what made it possible for Voldemort to possess Harry - the curse filled him with intense hatred,' put in Ron, Molly moaning softly as she closed her eyes against the memory of Harry with glowing red eyes.

`Those things you said,' Ginny whispered, `that was part of the curse?'

All three of them nodded, Harry saying quietly, `The curse filled us with hatred and anger - all we wanted to do was hurt each other in any way we could. But in the end my determination to live was stronger than Voldemort's determination to dominate; I would never allow him to live through me. And I had - well, love, trite as it sounds.'

`Far from trite, Harry,' said Arthur. `Love is far more empowering than hatred. Hatred by its very nature is destructive - the complete opposite of love.'

`Precisely, Mr Weasley!' said Hermione. `That's why I believe the Spell of Protection worked for us - its foundation is love, and the three of us loved - love - each other.'

`So much for taking turns!' complained Fred loudly.

`I knew we'd miss out,' said an equally disgruntled George.

`Bloody hell, you two!' exclaimed Ron. `If it's not custard you're whinging about, it's turns!'

Everyone laughed while Fred and George looked put out. But not for long - the laughter was infectious and they soon joined in.

`All right, your turn Fred,' said Harry, still smiling broadly.

`About time,' retorted Fred, a cheeky grin in place. `Right, I'm curious as to why you three didn't keep in touch by Floo or owl, even if you couldn't actually be in each other's presence.'

`Oooh, good question!' exclaimed Ginny, looking impressed.

`There's a very good reason for that,' said Harry, exchanging another of those “Trio-only” looks with Hermione and Ron. `We found out about that when Hermione tried to owl me at Hogwarts when she needed a book that -' Harry broke off, sighing.

`It's a bit complicated,' said Hermione. `We'll have to backtrack a little for it to make sense if that's all right.'

`Fire away!' said Fred and George simultaneously.

`It all began with the letter that Dumbledore left Harry. I'll let him tell you about it,' said Hermione.

`I received it on my seventeenth birthday. Dumbledore had arranged delivery before -' Harry hesitated.

`Before he died,' put in Luna.

`Yes, that's right,' said Harry brusquely, momentarily closing his eyes; the image of Dumbledore being hit by the Killing Curse before toppling backwards off the tower still haunted him at unexpected moments. He took a deep breath and continued, `This letter contained a lot of information that we were able to use in our search for the remaining Horcruxes. There were a lot of facts in it, but it was mostly the Professor's thoughts and ideas.'

`Do you still have it?' Asked Arthur curiously

Harry nodded. `Oh yes, it's in my Gringrott's vault.'

`One of the facts in the letter,' said Hermione, taking up the story once more, `was the location in the Headmaster's office of a certain book, the only known copy of that book I've since discovered. It's called “The Eternal Almanac” and is extremely ancient.'

`Hermione disappeared for the best part of a week after she got her hands on it,' put in Ron, leaning forward to grin at her past Harry. This drew a chuckle from everyone, Hermione rolling her eyes as she laughed too.

`It's true,' she admitted, `but it was a fascinating book, and rather difficult to read - some of the chapters would change, new ones would be added. Once, a whole chapter just disappeared. I was able to stabilise the most important chapters, eventually. It was that book which gave us the Spells of Protection and Destruction.'

`Was that the book you brought down to read at lunch the other day?' asked Molly.

Hermione nodded. `Yes. It was also instrumental in supplying the incantation and counter-spells we used last night.'

`So you put that book back in your vault after you knocked over Voldemort?' asked George and Harry nodded.

`So how did you get it again, Hermione?' asked Dean.

`Hermione owled me about six months after she began teaching at Beauxbatons,' said Harry, `to ask me if I could send it to her so she could use it for research.'

`But while he received my owl, it wasn't what I wrote,' said Hermione, her voice sounding strangely hollow.

`That's when we found out about another aspect of Voldemort's curse,' said Harry solemnly.

`We couldn't even owl each other!' Ron interjected bitterly. `Any letters we wrote to each other arrived full of - well, things we hadn't written, would never think let alone write. All because of that bloody curse!'

A stark, painful silence descended as everyone once again contemplated the enormity of the Trio's suffering - of their enforced isolation.

A single tear trailed down Luna's face. `How terribly lonely and sad for you all,' she whispered, as she tucked her arm through Ron's and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Harry put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and hugged her to him. `We tried a few different things, but in the end we had to give up. We didn't even consider Flooing after that - we were afraid of what might happen considering the consequences of merely writing.'

`How did you manage to owl in the end?' asked Ginny.

`Hermione asked one of her students to write a letter to me on her behalf asking for the book - I don't know what she told the student…' Harry's voice trailed off.

`I simply told her I'd hurt my hand and wasn't able to hold a quill,' said Hermione. `She was a young second-year student and, well,' Hermione's cheeks became stained with a delicate flush of colour, `I think she was a little in awe of me. She was happy to help and never questioned my excuse. It actually took me a long while to think of doing this because I was so deeply distracted trying to research without the help of the Almanac. Not being able to get my hands on that Almanac was the main reason it took so long for me to find the counter-curse. About six months ago now I became so desperate because I wasn't getting any further, it just hit me - everyone else could owl Harry - it was only Ron and I that couldn't. I called it “Dumbledore's Book” when I was talking to my student, but Harry knew what I meant. It worked.'

`So I received this letter,' said Harry, picking up the narrative, `from a Beauxbatons student asking if she could borrow “Dumbledore's Book” for her Wizarding Studies course with Professor Granger.'

Hermione smiled at him. `I received it two days later,' she said. `I still can't believe I didn't think of doing that earlier!'

`You know you were too focused on research to think of anything else, and sometimes the obvious is so close we can't see it,' Harry chided her with a smile.

`I don't suppose you could really get other people to write for each of you - short of using a Memory Charm on them afterwards,' pondered Arthur.

`And of course, since that's illegal, none of them would've considered that for a second!' cried Molly.

Ginny groaned. `Back to the questions!' she cried impatiently.

Hermione chuckled. `Once I had the Almanac and had completed my research, I was able to find a charm for the parchment we wrote on, preventing the words from changing. So, finally, I had the spells to break the curse and I was able to write to Ron and Harry and tell them.'

`It was such a relief!' sighed Ron. `It was all arranged; we were going to meet up for the first full moon after Christmas at Hogwarts. Then my little sister -' Ron winked at Ginny across the table, `- came a-nagging one day and convinced me we should get together sooner!'

`Just as well I was able to improve on the original Peace Potion,' said Hermione, `otherwise it wouldn't've been possible.'

`But you did, it was - and here we are!' cried Ron, flinging his arm wide to underline his words, Luna ducking her head sideways to avoid being hit.

`What I'd like to know,' said Molly, `is what about the things you said to each other? What was that all about?' She looked from Hermione to Harry and back. `What about how you felt about each other? And Ron?'

Each of the Trio dropped their heads for a moment before looking at each other. As though some silent agreement had taken place, Ron spoke first.

`You all know that back at Hogwarts, during our sixth year, that, well - Harry and Ginny went out for a while and everyone assumed Hermione and I - well, I guess I assumed too…' Ron's voice faltered, his eyes glued to the table top between his clenched fists. Hermione reached past Harry, who leant back to accommodate her, and gently placed a hand over one of those fists, squeezing gently before taking up the explanation.

`It was all a little strange for us, too, back then,' she said softly, `I'm sure you all remember being that age and sometimes being confused about which girl or boy you liked? There'd be one special one and then you'd find it was someone quite different a month or two later. It was probably slightly weirder for us because I was a girl who was friends with two boys, which was fine for the first few years, but once you get to a certain age, well, things have a way of changing.'

`You can say that again!' agreed Ron heartily, waggling his eyebrows comically.

Hermione chuckled. `I know now that I loved both these men - as boys - as I do now - but I was more protective of Ron because I knew he always felt as though he was second fiddle to Harry. I knew he was just as good, but he didn't, and I guess my protective, mothering instinct drew me to help him by -'

`Spare me!' cried Ron, his head dropping in embarrassment.

`Let's not bore them with the details,' said Harry, `although I'd like to say that the three of us were just friends during the time we were tracking down the Horcruxes - we had no time or inclination for anything else. Once we'd destroyed them, and our research for ways to defeat Voldemort himself became paramount, it was different; we were in one place for the first time in a long time, we felt as safe at Hogwarts as it was possible to feel anywhere and we were comfortable. I think that's when -'

`You got the hots for Hermione!' cried Ron, laughing.

`Ron!' cried Hermione and Molly together, their voices drowning out Harry's embarrassed groan.

Hermione leant over and swatted Ron on the arm, making an inarticulate sound of dismay and embarrassment at his blunt delivery. Harry couldn't help but grin at her, after which Hermione simply moaned and dropped her head onto her arms.

Ron laughed. `I was pretty much past the illusion of wanting to live happily ever after with you, Hermione, but I was a bit put out at first when you started mooning around after Harry in between the chapters you were reading!'

`Enough already!' groaned Fred.

`I think it's all rather funny,' chortled Ginny.

`You would!' shot back George.

`To be truthful,' said Ron soberly, `things were pretty awkward after we left on the “search, find and destroy” mission as we called it.' He grinned mischievously. `Harry was still lusting after Gin-'

`Ron!' cried Molly, Ginny and Hermione simultaneously, glaring at him.

Ron shrugged, obviously enjoying himself. `Sorry,' he said, not meaning it at all.

Hermione “tched” loudly and took up the narrative.

`Things were rather awkward,' she conceded, `but not for long. I think Harry felt lonely in a way at first because Ron and I had each other and Ginny wasn't there.'

Ron poked his finger in Hermione's direction. `And that's when you decided we'd have to “go on hold” so as not to upset Harry,' he said. `It was always “think of Harry”, “what about Harry” - Harry, Harry, Harry! That alone should've told me something!'

`Things were a little easier after that, though, weren't they?' retorted Hermione.

`Yeah,' Ron conceded grudgingly. `Looking back, I think I already knew then you and I weren't meant to be more than a teenage fling. But I did love you.'

`And I loved you,' replied Hermione smartly.

`And Harry,' shot back Ron.

`And Harry,' agreed Hermione. `I loved Harry before you, you know. That nasty remark back in our first year -'

`Hermione, come on!' cried Ron, sounding enormously aggrieved. `That was forever ago and you know you were a pain before Harry and I sorted you out!'

`A pain?' repeated Hermione indignantly.

Harry's head had been turning from one to the other as they spoke and then he burst out laughing. He looked around the table at everyone and shrugged. `See what I had to put up with? And I still have to put up with it!'

Ron and Hermione appeared not to have heard him though. Ron's ears reddened as he glared past Harry. `Come on, Hermione!' he ground out. `Our first year you were a pain! You've even said so yourself!'

`Ronald Bilius Weasley! Even if I did say that, it doesn't mean you have to -'

`That's enough you two,' said Molly crossly. `Ron, you apologise to Hermione!'

Ron looked as though he was about to protest the gross unfairness of this request when his expression suddenly softened and he sighed. Pushing his chair back, he rose and crossed to stand behind Hermione; putting his hands on her shoulders, he leant down and kissed the top of her head.

`I'm sorry, Hermione,' he said.

Harry was watching her and he saw the tears spring into her eyes as she lifted her hands to rest them on Ron's.

Tilting her head back so she could see him, Hermione gave Ron a tremulous smile.

`So am I,' she said softly.

`Good! Now that's out of the way, let's move on!' said Fred briskly.

`Can we please just get back to the questions!' moaned Ginny.

`Hear, hear!' agreed George.

Everyone chuckled at the sight of Harry, grinning, as he shook his head in exasperation.

`Can you believe them?' he said, rolling his eyes.

As the amused chuckles died away, Dean said, `Where were we? Oh yes, you were in that awful place - and your selves from now turned up - what was going on there? Even we could feel the awfulness of that place!'

`Hermione's department,' said Harry promptly, grinning at her.

`I think that perhaps you were affected because it wasn't a place of here - it was a state, if that helps at all; that's why both times our bodies appeared unconscious. Perhaps the best way to imagine it is by thinking of us as being asleep and all having the same nightmare - one that you could all watch. That was how the incantation worked. It was as though we lived through that night again, the night we defeated Voldemort. But then instead of living through what happened in the place of the curse as well, the incantation enabled us to appear there as our current selves. We were then able to use the counter-spell to break the curse before it was “finalised” so to speak - and it was over. We were free. We are free.'

A moment's solemn silence followed Hermione's words, “we are free”; they seemed to hover in the air around them, echoing gently.

`And then we ended up in the last memory back here at the Burrow,' said Dean quietly.

Harry gave a small, deprecating shrug. `Yeah, I just thought that'd finish off the explanation. With the Peace Potion and so on. That was the last time we were alone together.'

`Quite a story,' said Arthur quietly, smiling at them, `even better for having a happy ending.'

Suddenly, the fireplace crackled loudly and they all jumped as they heard Charlie's loud, joyful yell.

`I'm a father!'

Everyone stood and quickly moved to the fireplace.

`We're grandparents again, Arthur! How wonderful!' exclaimed Molly, before promptly bursting into tears and burying her face against her husband's chest.

Fred, George, Ron and Charlie exchanged a look of indulgent acceptance of their mother's feminine outburst.

`So, am I an aunt -' asked George, `- or an uncle?' finished Fred.

`It's a boy!' cried Charlie, barely audible over the happy cries of everyone in the room, including Fred and George's, `We're uncles!'

`Oh, yes!' exclaimed Ginny and Ron together, laughing merrily as they hugged each other while Fred and George groaned, glaring at their younger brother and sister.

`What's wrong? What's going on?' asked Harry.

Ron and Ginny were now laughing too hard to speak, but they did manage to point at Fred and George who were looking more disgruntled by the second.

`We had a bet going on whether it would be a boy or a girl,' said Fred.

`And Fred and I bet for a girl while these high rollers bet on a boy,' finished George sourly.

Molly, now recovered, scowled at them. `I'm not sure that's proper, betting on your brother's baby,' she said tartly.

All five siblings rolled their eyes then smiled impudently at their mother.

`Charlie put his money on a boy,' said Ginny airily.

`What?' Molly's eyes widened, turning to stare at the disembodied, ecstatically smiling face of her son in the flames. When Arthur cleared his throat uncomfortably beside her, she frowned up at him, her hands going to her hips.

`Boy or girl?' she asked acidly.

`Erm, a girl, actually. I was hoping -'

`Arthur Weasley! A fine example you're setting for your children!'

`I wouldn't say that!' crowed Fred. `He lost! Some fine example!'

Once Charlie was loaded with congratulations and more good wishes for Cordelia than he could possibly remember, Ginny remembered to ask if he and Cordelia had chosen a name for their new son. Charlie's expression suddenly changed and it was apparent he was listening to something they couldn't see.

`Cordelia's calling me,' he announced, looking flustered, `I'll have to go! I'll Floo again in the morning!' And he was gone.

`Two Galleons says they call him Charlie Junior!' cried Fred, immediately causing everyone to begin talking at once, the resulting noise making his mother frown furiously.

`Fred Weasley, don't you dare start that again! Don't any of you take him up on that!' cried Molly… to no avail.

As it turned out, there were no winners this time. No one had chosen “Sam Arthur Charles Weasley” after his grandfathers and father and it was his tiny, wrinkled countenance, nestled between the beaming faces of his parents, which peered out at them from the Burrow's kitchen fireplace the next morning…

The next morning saw everyone up not much later than usual, surprisingly, given the hour they'd finally gone to bed. However, any tiredness anyone may have felt was dispersed by the buoyant mood infecting them all. It stemmed from the happy news of both the outcome of the Trio's efforts and the birth of Charlie and Cordelia's son. All the women spent a good fifteen minutes “ooh-ing and ah-ing” over baby Sam, to the great amusement of the men.

Shortly after eleven, Harry and Hermione Flooed to her parents', leaving with the promise they'd return in time for dinner. Luna, who had stayed the previous night, also Flooed home, wanting to see her father. Ron had asked rather diffidently if it'd be all right for him to accompany her and found himself being hugged delightedly as Luna cried, `It's better than all right, Ronald!'

Ginny and Dean also left for lunch, going to visit with Dean's parents, and so Molly and Arthur had a very welcome few hours alone; they had a light lunch and as Arthur dozed before the living room fire, the Daily Prophet laying open across his stomach, Molly began knitting a tiny blue wizard's hat, smiling happily as she hummed an old lullaby to herself…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note

There, no cliffhanger dear readers! *grins* Because I made the original Chapters 8 and 9 a single Chapter 8, there is now actually only eleven chapters all up - so the next chapter will be the last one! I've actually decided to make a few changes and a few additions to it, and as I'm going to be flat out organising my dad's special birthday party (for 70 odd people!!!) I can't give you an exact posting date - I'm so sorry about that - I truly don't like to keep you waiting, but believe me, it'll be posted as soon as humanly possible!

Thank you all once again and cheers,

Janie xoxo

PS A good dose of well deserved fluff is coming your way, too. Here's a tiny taste…

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 a couple of hours to ourselves…alone.'

Hermione's eyes widened and she felt her cheeks flush. 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? she thought vexedly. You'd think I was some gauche little third year!

`Hermione?'

She felt Harry's warm fingers under her chin and unable to resist their gentle but insistent pressure, she slowly raised her head. With her heartbeat echoing loudly in her ears, she met his gaze, a soft gasp escaping her at what she saw there.

`You all right?' Harry asked softly.

Hermione 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 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 she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck.

`Never better,' she murmured just before his lips claimed hers.

-->

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

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Author's Note

Hi!! Remember me?? I'm back!! *sheepish grin* I am so very sorry this has taken so long - however, I won't bore you with the reasons why (just take my word for it, they're excellent ones!). I've had a “mega-fiddle” with this chapter, and as a consequence, it's grown - but I've left it as one, long (warm and fuzzy) chapter rather than split it into two…I'm sure you won't mind!

Just before you immerse yourself in the words below, I'd like to say heartfelt thanks as always to my cherished cyber-friend and beta, the wonderful Kirsti (KirstiR here at Portkey) - oceans of hugs dear! xoxoxo

REUNION

By JanieB

CHAPTER TWELVE

Morning Has Broken…

Harry lay with his eyes closed, the smile on his face one of pure happiness. He wasn't sure which was greater: the rapturous joy in his heart or the lingering ecstasy that still pervaded his whole body. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around the warm, soft body of the woman he loved. As he slowly opened his eyes, Harry's smile became wider at the sight of Hermione's sleeping countenance in the soft, pre-dawn light. She was facing him, one hand resting on his chest, the other under her cheek; their legs were entwined, their bodies drawn as close as possible...

He wasn't sure how long he remained like that, just looking at her, experiencing a surge of almost primeval triumph knowing she was his…and he was hers.

As the first rays of the sun stole slowly across the window sill, he whispered, `I love you.'

`I love you, too,' she whispered back.

`I didn't know you were awake,' he exclaimed softly, surprised and delighted.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked at him, a captivating smile of joy lifting the corners of her mouth.

`Only just now, but I could feel you looking at me.'

`Tell me again,' Harry said.

She knew exactly what he meant.

`I love you, Harry. More than you'll ever know.'

Harry closed his eyes for a second, a reflexive response to the wave of emotion that swept through him at hearing words he'd so rarely heard during his life; they were like the rarest and most precious of gems. Then as he looked at her once more his serious expression did nothing to diminish the infinite tenderness in his eyes.

`For five years I've dreamt of hearing you say that, Hermione.'

`Now you have,' she said softly, as she slid her hand up his chest and around his neck, her fingers running sensuously through his hair before trailing back down to caress his morning-rough cheek.

Harry turned his face so that his lips met the velvety warmth of her palm, then brought his hand up slowly to hold hers, relishing the journey over the silky skin of her back and shoulder. As his fingers enclosed hers, he pressed his lips against the centre of her hand, then gazed at her through the messy black locks strewn across his forehead.

`I love you, Hermione. You are everything to me.'

Tears glistened on Hermione's eyelashes; she found she couldn't speak - so she kissed him, a light, exquisitely tender kiss, feeling Harry's hand tightening around hers in response. Then he drew her hard against him, using his arm that was under and wrapped around her as well as his leg, which was lying across both of hers. He returned the kiss, at first just as tenderly, but it quickly became more urgent and demanding. Hermione moved instinctively against him, eliciting a low groan from Harry, who drew back slightly, his breathing uneven and rapid.

`Hermione -'

`Yes, Harry?'

Harry stared into the beautiful brown eyes so close to his and the expression in them seemed to wipe his entire vocabulary from his mind in a single moment.

`Harry?'

He still couldn't speak, so he kissed her again, rolling onto his back and pulling Hermione with him so that she was lying on top of him. Her long, dishevelled curls cascaded around their faces as she smiled down at him.

`Shouldn't we think about you getting back to your room so we don't upset anyone?' asked Hermione, amused.

`I'll be the one upset if I have to go now,' grinned Harry, his eyebrows moving up and down suggestively.

`Then I guess you'll have to stay just a little longer,' said Hermione as she wriggled invitingly, making Harry groan appreciatively.

`You like that?' she asked mischievously, delighting in this new, deeply intimate aspect of their lives.

`You could do anything and I'd like it, Hermione,' Harry managed gruffly.

`I'll remember that,' said Hermione as she lowered her head to kiss him once more.

*

The little clock-Hagrid stood ready with his cymbals, gazing at the happy chaos below him; it was Christmas Eve breakfast at the Burrow. Molly was in her element and it showed in the happy, indulgent smile that hadn't left her face since she'd gotten up that morning, humming Christmas carols while she cooked. Arthur was trying hard not to look as though he'd rather have just ten minutes to himself to read quietly in the corner with his tea and toast, while Ron looked as though he was missing something and wasn't trying at all hard to hide it. The something he was missing? Luna, of course… He'd seen her home the previous night and they'd shared their first kiss…and their second…and third… He now wished he'd asked her to breakfast, but knew she wanted to spend some time with her dad. She'd mentioned that perhaps her dad would like to have him come for lunch and he was now on tenterhooks, waiting for her to owl or Floo with an invitation.

`Pixies in your pants?' inquired Ginny archly, although her gaze was amused as it rested on Ron.

`Freshly caught Cornish ones, I'd say,' commented Dean, Harry and Hermione joining him in laughing at the reminder of their second year Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Ron's thoughts, however, were very obviously elsewhere and after giving them a distracted smile, he glanced firstly at the clock then the fireplace, just as he'd been doing since he'd sat down.

`Pixies in his pants?' scoffed George.

`More like Luna's in his orbit!' added Fred with a smirk.

When the flames in the living room fireplace turned green just after Fred spoke, and a definitely feminine voice could be calling out, Ron nearly fell flat on his face in his hurry to get there.

`Oncle Ron?'

`Aimee?' Ron managed a smile for his niece, despite his disappointment she wasn't Luna.

`Angelique, oncle! Here is Aimee! Can you not tell? And why are you panting? 'Ave you been running?'

There was a lot of girlish giggling issuing from the fireplace and as Bill and Fleur came to stand each side of Ron - all three of them bent over to see into the green flames - they grinned at him and gave him a sort of “never mind” pat on the back before he returned to the table, leaving them to talk with their daughters.

As Ron returned to the kitchen and resumed his seat, Ginny asked brightly, `So, what's the agenda for today? I mean, Dean and I are going to his parents' for lunch so we can tell them about the baby -' she patted her stomach, smiling, `- but what about getting to the Ministry this evening? When do we have to leave? How do we leave?'

Harry cleared his throat in an overly dramatic manner. `I can answer that!' he announced grandly.

`Not a Portkey?' asked Ginny with obvious trepidation.

Harry shook his head, grinning.

Bill and Fleur returned to the table at that moment, Fleur turning to Ron and saying nonchalantly, `Zair is someone 'oo wishes to speak wiz you, Ron - she Flooed ze instant we said goodbye to ze girls.'

Ron dropped his knife and fork - left his breakfast! - and dashed from the kitchen to the living room in record time.

`So,' said Ginny, rolling her eyes good-naturedly at her brother's antics, `not a Portkey, then what?'

Harry winked at her and popped his egg and sausage-laden fork into his mouth.

`Harry!' cried Ginny accusingly, `you're teasing!'

`Shame on you, Harry!' said Fred sombrely.

`We have a golden rule,' said George, equally sombre, `that we never tease our younger sister.'

Everyone around the table chuckled, a strangled `Codswallop!' coming from Ginny.

`That's right,' agreed Fred, nodding sagely. `Never tease your younger - and in this case, only - sister. Just not cricket!'

When a puzzled Molly asked, `What have crickets got to do with this?' the chuckles became full blown laughter, although Ginny still managed to glare at her twin brothers despite giggling.

`It's just a saying, Mum!' gurgled Fred.

`A Muggle expression!' gasped George, laughing at his parents' expressions.

Molly's expression remained puzzled, although Arthur's ears pricked up at hearing the word, “Muggle”. He leant towards his wife and whispered, `Don't worry, dear, I'll investigate at work - I'm sure I can find out what they mean.'

`What a cauldron full of absolute -' began Ginny, biting off the rest of her sentence and shaking her head ruefully at her twin brothers' antics.

`You know they're kidding, honey,' said Dean soothingly as he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

`I know,' retorted Ginny, then sighed, `but when you work with them, it can get a bit wearing sometimes.'

`Enough you two! You shouldn't be upsetting the mother-to-be!' said Bill loudly and sternly. Ginny smiled at him; Bill had always held a special place in her heart.

Fred and George were immediately contrite, Fred drawing his wand and waving it theatrically to produce a large, fragrant bouquet of Pixie's Pansies, their magical creamy white petals and soft yellow centres spotted with dew; they floated daintily towards Ginny and as she held out her hands to take them, she rolled her eyes and then chuckled.

`Apology accepted, you ratbag uncles-to-be!' she said as she buried her nose in the beautiful blooms.

`“Ratbags”?' spluttered the twins indignantly, but before they could come up with a riposte, Ron rejoined them and sat down to continue his now almost stone-cold breakfast with a huge, dreamy grin on his face.

`Oh ho!' cried George, elbowing his brother. `Ickle Ronnie-kins has gone all mushy and gooey!'

`And loving it!' retorted Ron gleefully around a mouthful of cold sausage. `Luna's invited me over for lunch today.'

`Excellent, son. Now, can we get back to Harry?' said Arthur, sounding a little exasperated at the verbal fun-and-games of his offspring.

`Oh, yes! Harry!' cried Ginny, looking across at Harry. `So how are we getting to the ball tonight?'

Harry sat silently, waiting for everyone's undivided attention. It didn't take long, and once all eyes were on him, he slowly unrolled the parchment he'd received from the Minister of Magic the previous day whilst at the Grangers'.

As the air thickened with expectancy, a slow smile lifted the corners of Harry's mouth.

`Harry, mate, come on!' urged Fred.

Harry laughed. `All right! How about this? The Minister for Magic has kindly requested that we three accept his offer of the use of the Ministry's newly acquired motor vehicles to transport us, together with anyone else we choose, to the Ministry of Magic's Annual Yule Ball.'

Ginny squealed with sheer delight before joining everyone else in voicing their approval of the Minister's offer.

`Bloody brilliant!' cried Fred a number of times, which seemed to sum it up.

`Have you told them how many of us there'll be?' asked George.

Harry nodded. `I think I got it right. With all of us here, plus Percy and Penelope and Luna and her dad, it'll be fifteen. Your mum and dad are making their own way now, aren't they Dean?' - Dean nodded and Harry continued, `I'm not sure if we'll fit in one car or whether we'll need two, they haven't said.'

`Dad, do you know if they're holding the ball at the Ministry, as usual?' asked Bill over the cheerful hubbub.

`They're not, actually,' he began, looking across the table and catching Harry's eye.

`Why not?' asked Harry, frowning inquisitively.

Arthur looked a little uncomfortable. `Erm, special circumstances I believe.'

`Ha!' said Ginny knowingly. `Special circumstances, my -'

`Foot!' Dean interjected.

Ginny gave him a look of mock-indignation. `Just what I was going to say!'

`I should hope so,' said Bill, winking at her.

Hermione put her hand on Harry's forearm and leant towards him. `My guess is they're using a different venue because of us.'

Harry looked down her, still frowning.

`Why would us going mean they need to hold it somewhere else?'

Fred and George sighed theatrically and rolled their eyes in twinly unison.

`Harry, Harry, Harry!' said George sounding patiently exasperated.

`Surely you realise just what the presence of your esteemed self, in the company of our Ickle Ronnie-kins and the devastatingly gorgeous Hermione, means?' said Fred gravely, although his eyes were dancing with suppressed mirth.

Dean groaned impatiently. `Oh cut the crap!' he said, earning himself a swipe on the arm from Ginny along with a muttered, `You should talk!'

Turning to Harry, Dean continued, `Does any one of you three realise what a huge thing this is? The three of you being together again? Do you have even the slightest inkling of the pandemonium you've released?'

Harry looked at Hermione, then Ron; their expressions were the same as his and made it clear that they didn't realise anything of the sort and also caused Fred and George to break into highly amused chuckles.

`Hasn't all the fuss sort of faded away over the last few years?' asked Ron. At this point, Fred and George began to laugh outright.

`What's up with you two, now?' asked Molly, sounding vexed.

The twins managed to stop laughing enough to speak, Fred first. `We just can't believe that the ridiculously famous Trio, the Trio, are so completely clueless about their own fame!'

`That's not true!' retorted Hermione hotly. `We know perfectly well that we're famous, thank you very much Fred Weasley!'

`So,' said George, `why is Harry so amazed that there are - what'd you call it, Dad? - oh yeah, “special circumstances”, requiring a different venue for the ball?'

By way of an answer, Hermione shrugged uncomfortably before looking at Harry.

`Everyone wants to gawk at us,' said Ron sourly.

`That's not very nicely put,' said Molly.

`But basically true, I'm afraid,' said Arthur. `However,' he continued quickly, before anyone else could speak, `they also want to honour you. They want to thank you. They want to share their happiness with you. And while you don't owe them anything, they are all aware of how much they owe you - and at this ball, they feel they'll be able to repay just a tiny bit of that debt.'

A short, thoughtful silence followed in the wake of Arthur's words.

`The Ministry isn't big enough, is it?' asked Harry quietly.

`No, it's not,' replied Arthur.

`So where will it be?' asked Hermione.

`Gotta be Hogwarts,' said Ron.

Hermione frowned. `But Hogwarts isn't any bigger than the Ministry!'

`You'll just have to wait and see,' said Arthur and despite Ginny's wheedling, pleading and nagging, he refused to say anything more on the matter.

*

Lunch was a quiet affair with Dean and Ginny at the Thomas's, Ron at the Lovegood's and the twins meeting their old mate, Lee Jordan, for lunch in London. An official Ministry Owl arrived while Molly was Flooing Charlie and Cordelia and delivered a letter advising the Trio that two Ministry cars would arrive to pick them up at six p.m.

Ginny and Dean Flooed back to the Burrow first, just after three that afternoon, Ginny giving Dean a loving kiss before disappearing upstairs to get ready. Ron returned with Luna shortly afterwards so that Fleur could help her with her hair; Luna had brought her dress with her so that she could share in the excitement of getting ready with the other “girls”. Her father, who was travelling to the ball with them, was arriving around six, the same time as Percy and Penelope, who were getting ready at home.

Fred and George Flooed in last, just before five, to find all the men just about ready, the women still closeted in bedrooms and bathrooms.

Harry and Ron were standing to one side of the fireplace talking quietly when Molly came downstairs. She was the first of the women to appear and fussed over the twins, chivvying them off to get ready, ignoring their good-natured grumbling.

`How's Ginny?' asked Dean, who was sitting with Bill and Fleur before the fireplace, sipping a glass of Ogden's.

`She's fine,' said Molly with a smile, `and she looks beautiful! And so do Fleur, Luna and Hermione,' she finished with a knowing glance at Bill, Ron and Harry.

Ron was a little nervous at the prospect of his first “real” date and growing more so as six o'clock approached.

`Don't worry,' Harry told him. `You can't do anything worse than fall on your arse in front of her and you've already done that!'

Ron groaned. `Don't remind me!'

Fleur came downstairs first looking, as always, breathtakingly stunning. She wore a shimmering silver gown, her beautiful silvery-blonde hair softly curled so that it appeared to float around her head like a halo. A slight frown appeared on her face when she spotted Bill, as he had used a Masking Charm so that he looked “normal”. Rising swiftly and crossing to take his wife's hands, Bill lifted them in turn to place a kiss on the back of each; Fleur smiled graciously at her husband, then whispered that it wasn't necessary for him to mask himself. Bill persuaded her otherwise, however, telling her it was for two main reasons: firstly, so that he wouldn't frighten the other guests and secondly, he didn't particularly feel like being stared at all evening.

Ginny and Luna arrived next, Ginny looking radiant in her misty, sea-green gown, her red hair curled and falling softly over one shoulder. Dean whispered in her ear that for a mother-to-be, she looked incredibly beautiful and amazingly sexy.

When Ron saw Luna, he let out an involuntary wolf-whistle followed by a heartfelt, `Wow!' Fleur was smiling somewhat maternally, feeling rather proud of Luna's hairdo. At Luna's request, she had painstakingly braided her very long hair, then wound the braid around her head, piling it up into a soft, blonde crown and tucking the end in so that it couldn't be seen. Luna's hair seemed to sparkle, due to the small, glittering magical gems Fleur had placed everywhere with touches of her wand. Luna's dress was the same shade of blue as her eyes, the bodice close-fitting, the full skirt falling from the waist.

Hermione had already started down the stairs before Luna reached the bottom, but the only one watching her at that point was Harry; he had eyes for no one else. She'd chosen a black dress, something she'd never worn before. It was very simple and sophisticated, falling to the floor from a necklace-like circle of sparkling crystals, fitting snugly over every curve on the way, more crystals decorating the hem in a wave-like design. The dress itself was sleeveless but Harry realised that there was another layer he'd not seen the previous day. It was a full-length, sheer black overlay, as light as air, caught at the centre crystal around the neckline and open at the front as though it was an unbuttoned coat; long sleeves finished at the wrist, gathered to matching bracelets of the sparkling crystals. The gossamer material was dotted with a myriad of the tiny crystals, reflecting the light like so many miniature stars. Hermione had charmed her hair so that it was swept gently back from her forehead, falling in long, soft waves down her back to her waist.

As Luna took the last step and made her way to a bedazzled Ron, Harry moved towards the stairs, still watching Hermione - he couldn't take his eyes off her and when she saw him, her eyes widened, her lips parting as she drew in a sudden breath. She thought - knew! - Harry was sexy, but she wasn't prepared for the sight of him, a fully grown man, wearing a perfectly fitted black tuxedo with a black matte satin waistcoat and cravat-style tie. As her eyes moved from his head to his feet and back again, her immediate reaction was to think how much she'd like to get him out of that tuxedo and…

`Hermione!'

Harry's soft exclamation was only loud enough to reach Hermione and as their eyes met and locked, a tantalising smile curved her lips. As she stopped at the bottom step, Harry moved forward the last few steps to meet her, neither of them aware of the glances now turning in their direction, one by one.

As Hermione stepped down, Harry reached out for her hand, their eyes still locked. `Actually seeing you in that dress far outstrips my imagination,' said Harry, his voice hoarse.

`And as for you…well, I'll tell you later what it is your “nothing special” tuxedo is making me think about doing right now, Mr Potter.'

The smile Harry gave her in response to her remark made Hermione's knees literally weaken.

`Hermione, where in the name of the Great Ghostly Griffin did you get that?!' croaked Fred.

`Do you have a look-alike cousin? Somewhere? Anywhere?' asked George, his eyes agog.

Although she laughed at the twins, Hermione's eyes didn't leave Harry's until Molly swept up to them, clucking her tongue.

`All right you two, enough mutual admiration for now! Where's your evening bag, Hermione? And your robes, Harry? Wands everyone! Percy and Penelope arrived a minute ago and Mr Lovegood will be here any second.'

`The Ministry cars have just pulled up outside,' announced Dean as he peered out the window.

`I'm so excited!' cried Ginny, smiling joyfully up at her husband. `Come on, let's go!'

And go they did, shortly after the arrival of Luna's father a few minutes later.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Mr Lovegood, Ginny, Dean, Arthur and Molly travelled together in the first car, Bill and Fleur, Fred and George and Percy and Penelope in the second car. Fred and George could be heard muttering to each other about how much better Hermione looked than Percy and Bill and why couldn't they be in her car…assuring Fleur and Penelope they were in no way casting aspersions on their beauty…

When they'd first seen the cars, everyone felt a little let down - they looked just like ordinary, white Rolls Royce limousines. And while the interior, with its white leather upholstery, was also rather Muggle-like, they discovered that's where the similarities ended. The built-in television, multi-media player and bar with fridge, part of the Muggle version, had been replaced with extra seating, and so Harry and his fellow passengers enjoyed exemplary comfort. There was a rather stern looking house-elf named Austerio, dressed in a highly starched black and white toga-like outfit, who assured them with great aplomb that anything - anything - they wanted or needed would be provided with great pleasure by himself, they need only speak his name and he would appear to provide it.

As he vanished with a “crack”, presumably to the driver's compartment, Hermione sat speechless, Ginny leaning forwards and whispering, `Shouldn't he be called a “car-elf”?' hoping to distract her.

Harry's smile was one that said he was rather pleased with himself as he explained to Hermione that he'd actually asked about the “car-elf” earlier and had been told by the driver, albeit rather sourly, that he was in fact paid for his work. Hermione, needless to say, was happily mollified by this information and sat back to enjoy the journey. Less than a minute after the cars had moved off, Molly let out a scream of surprise.

`Arthur! What's happening?' she cried.

Arthur was grinning broadly. `We're flying, dear,' he said happily, sitting back in his seat, his arms behind his head. `A flying car! How extraordinarily wonderful!'

Harry and Ron exchanged a look that ended in laughter. `Wonder what Fred and George are saying about all of this?' said Ron, grinning, with a sideways look at his mother.

`This is different from your father's car,' said Molly in the most dignified manner she could muster, `after all, it's Ministry approved.'

`Bet Dad had something to do with the by-law loop-hole that's let them do this, though!' chortled Ron.

Arthur frowned at his son, but quickly replaced it with a smile as Molly turned to look at him.

`The Minister is his own boss,' he said, continuing before anything else could be said, `and I think it's high time we had a drink! Austerio!'

With a pompous “pop”, the house-elf appeared, standing amongst their feet, his head not rising far above the level of their knees. They placed their orders and within minutes they were each holding the drink of their choice. Just as they raised their glasses in a toast to “a truly wonderful evening”, there was a loud BANG followed by a tiny lurch, luckily not bad enough for any drinks to be spilt.

Arthur leaned forward to look out the window past Molly. `Hmmm, looks like Wales,' he commented thoughtfully.

`Wales?' repeated Mr Lovegood, surprised. `Didn't we just leave the Burrow?'

`Seems as though they've crossed a certain flying-car enchantment with the abilities of the Knight Bus,' Harry said to Arthur with a knowing smile.

`Seems they have,' was the rather vague reply.

`Seems to me Mr Weasley is doing his best to dodge some sort of a telling-off by Mrs Weasley!' Hermione whispered to Harry, laughing quietly.

Perhaps Molly decided this was not the night to have at her husband about his love of things Muggle and in particular, his old flying car (still living in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts as far as anyone knew), but whatever the reason, she remained serenely and quietly happy, sipping her sherry as the car jumped with well-mannered, intermittent BANGS until they could all recognise the coldly glistening surface of the Black Lake and the lights of Hogwarts Castle below in the dusky light.

`We're here,' said Hermione breathlessly and from that second on, the sense of excited anticipation they all felt seemed to escalate.

`What's all that?' asked Luna's father, drawing everyone's attention to the scene below: the gates of Hogwarts were closed and outside them could be seen a mass of twinkling lights.

`Oh, that would be some of the people who weren't able to get tickets to the ball,' said Arthur in a nonchalant tone.

`What?' cried Hermione. `Why are they waiting there? Surely not to see us?'

`Well, actually, yes,' said Arthur, `I imagine that's what they're doing.'

Looking aghast, Hermione called, `Austerio!'

The dignified house-elf appeared immediately. `How may I help you?'

Hermione instructed him to tell the driver that the car was to land just inside the gates. Now. Please.

Within seconds of his disappearing pop they could all feel the car banking, spiralling gently down to land behind the wrought-iron gates; everyone could hear the muffled sound of hundreds of voices outside.

`Come on, Harry, Ron,' said Hermione in a very professor-like manner, `we're going to say hello to these people. I can't believe they're all waiting out here in the cold just to see us!'

Harry and Ron exchanged amused looks, then Ron opened the door and stepped out, holding his hand out for Hermione, Harry coming out last.

From the instant the door had opened, the volume of the crowd's noise had risen sharply; when Austerio performed a lumos spell, casting a pool of bright light over and around the car making Ron clearly visible, loud cheers followed. When Hermione stepped out into the light, smiling and waving, the cheers increased in volume and when Harry appeared, the noise became almost deafening. The Trio moved away from the car so that they could stand side by side, Harry in the middle. He linked his arms through Ron and Hermione's, feeling a little awed and very humbled by this reception.

`Hold on,' he told them, `we're going up!'

Which is just what they did - Harry levitated them to the top of the car so that they were visible to just about everyone waiting outside the gates. They stood, waving and smiling at the crowd in the cold air for a few minutes, calling out “thank you” and “so sorry you aren't able to come in”, although they knew they couldn't possibly be heard over the tremendous roar of the crowd.

The cold finally got the better of them. The gathered throng made it clear they were disappointed the Trio were leaving and as Harry took them back to the ground, the cheers became wails of “No!” and “Stay!” Despite feeling regret at having to leave so soon, they were very grateful to once more be seated in the warm interior of the car; their excitement, intensified by their experience with the multitude outside, infecting everyone else as they rejoined them.

They were barely seated when the cars quickly took to the air, giving them all one last look at the huge number of people below before they banked and flew over the castle, landing with only the tiniest of bumps in the courtyard at the back, drawing up to a canopy that had been erected over the door leading inside. The doors opened by themselves as soon as the cars stopped, and as everyone gathered under the canopy they heard the castle door creak as it opened. A tall, lean figure bounded down the stairs and made a beeline for the Trio, a young witch and wizard following in his footsteps; they all instantly recognised the Minister for Magic.

`Mr Potter! Mr Weasley! Miss Granger! What a truly stupendous honour to have you with us this evening!'

`I think he actually means it,' an impressed George whispered to his twin.

`Ah, Arthur! Evening! So good to see you again!' The Minister shook hands enthusiastically with Arthur, bowed to Molly and the other ladies present then shook hands with each of the other men while telling them all how happy he was to see them and how much he was looking forward to the evening.

`So, the back door, Alcott?' asked Arthur wryly, indicating the door with a nod.

`We could hardly have you all just bundle in the front door!' replied the Minister, looking askance at Arthur. `Imagine the pandemonium! Actually, it's been nothing but pandemonium!'

Within a minute, they were being led up the stairs and through a door which was as familiar to each of them as the corridor it led into; they passed empty classrooms - Classroom Eleven being the most memorable - and as they neared the closed door that led into the Entrance Hall, they became aware of a constant, low murmur coming from the other side.

`People,' explained the Minister, rolling his eyes, `scads of them. You wouldn't believe how hard we've had our people working this past week to get the Great Hall ready - well, not just ready, but big enough! Even though there will never be as much magic in the whole of the Ministry to match the old, embedded magic that lies in every corridor and blackboard of Hogwarts, it was still a huge challenge enlarging the Great Hall - not to mention shooing away all the blighters that kept trying to set up camp out front! Security has become very lax in the last few years,' he finished in a disapproving tone.

`I don't think the shooing worked,' said Ron dryly, grinning.

The Minister gave him a quizzical look and Ron said in the most nonchalant way he could, `Well, we just spent a few minutes waving to a lot of people outside the gates.'

This stopped the Minister in his tracks and he gaped at Ron, looking to Harry and Hermione for confirmation.

`We couldn't just ignore them,' said Hermione firmly, meeting the Minister's gaze unwaveringly.

The Minister shook his head and rolled his eyes. `I'm just going to pretend you didn't tell me that,' he said to the ceiling and turned to lead the way once more.

`Why didn't you use the Quidditch Pitch?' Bill asked as he thumbed over his shoulder in the direction they'd just come, helping the Minister to ignore what he'd just been told.

`The Quidditch Pitch? In this weather?' gasped the Minister. `Too damn cold!' He shivered as though giving weight to his answer, then reached out and opened a door on his left which led into an antechamber. His two silent assistants took their places in the corridor each side of the door as though standing guard.

`If you don't mind, would you please wait in here until we're sure everyone's seated?' asked the Minister, sounding slightly nervous.

Everyone smiled and nodded their acquiescence as they filed into the antechamber.

`Nice!' commented Dean when he spotted the lit fire, the many comfortable armchairs and the side table laden with food and drink.

The Minister waited by the door until they were all in the room then cleared his throat, obviously wanting their attention. As all eyes turned toward him, the Minister drew himself up straight, his hands clasped behind his back. As he paced slowly across in front of the door, they could make out the likeness of the New Fountain of Magical Brethren embroidered in gold thread on the back of his emerald green cloak.

`What we're hoping to do,' he said as he stopped and turned to face them, `is ensure everyone attending is in their seat, then we'll take everyone but the Trio - sorry, I shouldn't really refer to you as that in your presence, should I? - everyone but Mr Potter, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger in, and once they're comfortably seated, we'll announce you three. We thought you may like to enter together.'

Ron initially wasn't sure about not having Luna with him but she assured him she was perfectly happy to go in ahead of him.

`Besides, then I get to watch you make your grand entrance! And no falling on your behind, Ronald,' she finished with a mischievous grin.

Ron groaned, laughing as he shook his head and hugged her. `I do hope, Minister, that Luna will be sitting next to me?' he asked over the top of Luna's head.

`Oh, yes, she is! Mr Potter did give us the optimum seating placements.'

Hermione looked up at Harry, highly amused. `“Optimum seating placements”?'

`His phrase, not mine!' Harry assured her. `I just wanted to make sure I was sitting next to you!'

Hermione's hand slid into Harry's and squeezed his fingers gently. `I would've said something if you weren't, believe me!' she told him.

The Minister clapped his hands together, looking relieved that his proposed arrangements had been so readily accepted. `Right, I'll go and see how things are progressing in the Great Hall, then I'll be right back! Priscilla and Ben are on duty outside the door if you need anything at all.'

As the door closed behind the Minister, everyone began talking at once, their excitement rising to the surface once more. Less than ten minutes later, the Minister returned to escort everyone but the Trio into the Great Hall; Harry, Ron and Hermione were left alone in the antechamber once the door shut with a slight rasping sound behind Luna's father.

Hermione, standing between Ron and Harry, reached out and clasped their hands.

`Well, here we are,' she said softly.

`Just the three of us,' said Ron with a gentle smile.

`Back at Hogwarts once more,' added Harry.

`I'm actually revelling in the thought of how infuriated Voldemort would be if he could see us now!' said Hermione with triumphant glee.

`Bollocks to him!' crowed Ron and they all laughed, preventing them from hearing the door open.

`I take it you're ready, then?' asked a familiar voice.

Three pairs of eyes flashed to the doorway.

`Professor McGonagall!' they cried in unison.

`So glad you remember,' she replied smoothly, although her eyes were glistening suspiciously as she gazed at the three of them.

`So, time to go?' asked Ron, straightening.

The Headmistress nodded and the Trio fell in step behind her, stopping when they arrived in front of the closed double doors to the Great Hall.

`Yes. I'm going to slip in and take my seat,' the Professor told them, `and when you hear yourselves announced, the doors will open and you can proceed to the High Table. I'm sure you know the way.'

The three friends nodded in unison and with her fingers resting on the ornate door handle, the Professor spoke one last time.

`You all look quite wonderful, by the way, and I have to say this is a very proud and happy night.' Then she was gone, the door closing silently behind her. There had been the sound of muted conversation, rising in volume for the few seconds it took the Headmistress to enter the Hall, but after the door closed, the silence was instantaneous. It was so quiet, in fact, they could hear the Professor's footsteps on the stone floor as she walked the length of the room.

After what felt like an eternity, they clearly heard the voice of the Minister for Magic: `Witches and wizards all, it is with unimaginable pleasure that I make the following announcement…'

Harry looked down at Hermione on his right, then around to Ron. They all grinned at each other, took a deep breath and linked arms, their hearts beginning to race; for the first time in a long time, they felt very much “the Trio” at that moment…

`…please welcome our guests of honour this evening, the witch and wizards to whom we all owe our lives, the Trio we have longed to see reunited for the past five years - and they are here with us this evening!'

The doors began to swing open slowly and they clearly heard the Minister's voice ringing out as he called their names:

`Harry Potter! Hermione Granger! Ronald Weasley!'

The doors were now completely open and Harry, Ron and Hermione, just about to step forward, froze in amazement at the sight that met their wide, unblinking eyes. Hermione drew in a quick, sharp breath; Ron managed a mangled sound that could've been “bloody hell!” whilst Harry simply stared, unable to believe he was standing in the entrance to the Great Hall. Unexpectedly, more than half a lifetime of memories from time spent in this very place suddenly demanded to be remembered, flashes of scores of images fought for recognition - so many he could hardly make them out; his head was reeling.

Then he felt Hermione gently squeeze his hand and in that moment, as he looked into her warm, dancing eyes, he knew his life had really only begun again at the instant he'd stepped from the fireplace in the Burrow a week ago.

For the smallest of moments, you could hear a pin drop in the magically expanded Great Hall of Hogwarts as everyone present gazed in awe at the three figures that had become legends in their own lifetimes. As the Trio stood there in the tall, open doorway with their arms linked, everyone present was acutely aware they were part of a night that would go down in wizarding history. Then a lone voice echoed through the Hall: `Oy! Harry! Ron! Hermione! Good on you!'

And the silence was instantly shattered, replaced with cheers, cries, whistles, clapping and calling voices.

The Trio unconsciously straightened before they began walking slowly down the wide centre aisle, left clear for just this moment. Their faces revealed their astonishment at the reception they were being given, yet they couldn't stop smiling.

`I think they recognise us,' said Ron loudly so that he could be heard over the din.

`Really? You sure?' asked Hermione as she leant forward to grin at him past Harry.

`Yeah, pretty sure,' he replied, winking at her.

`I'm so glad we're in this together,' said Harry who was feeling particularly appreciative at that moment of having Ron and Hermione by his side once more.

`I know what you mean, mate,' replied Ron with feeling.

`I've always said it's never been just one of us - it's always been the three of us,' said Hermione, unable to keep a little smugness out of her tone.

Ron made a great show of sighing, shaking his head as he laughed nonetheless. `Don't you ever get sick of being right, Hermione?' he asked.

They all threw back their heads and laughed and a flash bulb exploded somewhere in front of them as Colin Creevey took the photo that would become not only his own personal favourite, but the most recognised photo in all wizardom over the ensuing years.

They finally arrived at the steps that led up to the High Table, Harry's comment making them laugh: `Thank Merlin they only made the Hall wider and not longer!'

When they reached the top step, they dropped their arms and turned to face the crowd which filled an Entrance Hall three times wider than it usually was; it appeared to the Trio to be a continuous, shifting mass of smiling faces and waving arms that stretched to the walls and then up the walls. There were many glints of light reflecting off an unprecedented number of Omnioculars which made the starlit ceiling appear to extend down the walls.

`D'you reckon they're planning on any dancing happening tonight?' said Ron.

`I don't mind if they're not!' replied Harry, laughing as Hermione simultaneously nudged him with her arm and tried to frown at him.

`Sonorus!'

All three of them turned their heads to their left to see the Minister for Magic standing there, his wand pointed at his throat.

The Minister smiled at them, giving them a small bow before straightening and turning to speak, his voice carrying to the far reaches of the Hall. `Good evening! I am Alcott Brayden, your Minister for Magic and it is with great pleasure that I welcome you all to the Ministry of Magic's Annual Yule Ball, although I believe that this particular ball will be remembered more fondly as the Reunion Ball!'

A surge of cheers met this announcement and after tucking his wand away, the Minister held up his hands in an effort to lessen the noise.

`The reunion of which I speak is, of course, the reunion of the legendary members of the Trio, here with us as I speak. I would like, firstly, before we give in to our joyous mood this evening, to express the collective gratitude once again of all witches and wizards to you -' he turned and nodded to Harry, Ron and Hermione, `- and as I have no doubt each of you is looking forward to sitting down and getting on with enjoying yourselves, there is something I would like to do right now.'

The sound of voices became hushed with expectancy as Hagrid and Professor McGonagall, who had been standing against the side wall at the end of the High Table, moved forward to stand beside the Minister. It was now possible to see that they were both holding something - Hagrid, some elaborately tied scrolls in one large hand, the Headmistress some ornately carved wooden boxes.

`While you were each awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, following your defeat of He-Who - pardon me, of … Voldemort -' the Minister shuddered delicately as he spoke the name of wizardkind's evil nemesis (old habits die hard), `I believe it is only fitting that you are also presented with these unique medallions, created especially in your honour and in remembrance of this evening. I doubt that there will ever be any witch or wizard ever again who will be worthy of them.'

The expectant hush became almost complete silence as the Minister turned to Hagrid, who placed one of the scrolls in the Minister's outstretched hand.

Harry, Ron and Hermione, each of them equally puzzled, watched as the thick, ivory coloured parchment was unrolled; the Minister held it out at arm's length and cleared his throat before he began to recite:

`To you, Harry James Potter, to you, Hermione Jane Granger, and to you, Ronald Bilius Weasley, is awarded the Highest and Most Reverently Esteemed Order of Dumbledore. This is done in Recognition of your Outstanding Contribution to Wizardkind and Mugglekind through your Magnificent Devotion to what is right, your Unswerving Loyalty to your Fellow Witches and Wizards and your Phenomenal Bravery, not just on the night you freed us all from the Tyranny of Evil by Vanquishing Tom Marvolo Riddle, known as Lord Voldemort, but throughout your lives on the many occasions you Faced and Fought The Dark Lord and his many Minions. With Boundless Gratitude and Joyous Hearts, this Order is so Presented to each of you.'

In the silence that followed, the Minister rolled up and re-tied the scroll before handing it to Harry, taking the remaining two from Hagrid and passing them to Ron and Hermione. Professor McGonagall held the three boxes steady as the Minister opened each one in turn and removed the beautifully crafted golden medallion within and placed them around the necks of each of the Trio in turn - Harry, Hermione, then Ron. They learnt later that the purple velvet ribbon on which the medallions were hung had been made from Albus Dumbledore's favourite purple cloak.

Following the presentation, the night seemed to fly by for the Trio. They were seated at the High Table - now many times longer then usual - and they enjoyed a wonderful meal, although they couldn't tell you what it was they ate; they were constantly amazed at the sights and sounds surrounding them. Once the feast was over, many friends, some people they'd heard of and some they hadn't, came by the table for a few words.

It seemed to all pass so quickly in an exhilarating blur and before they knew it, all tables and chairs, with the exception of the High Table, had been Vanished, and the stone floor of the huge hall was quickly filled with hundreds of pairs of dancers.

When, a mere five minutes later, the last notes of the first song died away, all eyes turned expectantly to the High Table.

`Here we go,' Harry told Hermione with a tender smile; he was sure everyone present would assume the person chosen by each of the Trio as their dance partner was also their partner in romance - and they were right, of course…

So Harry happily, although not terribly expertly, led a glowing Hermione around the circle of floor cleared for them, while a proud Ron held a content looking Luna in his arms as they swayed in time to the music.

When the next song began the dance floor was once more full and despite being the centre of attention with all eyes upon them, the Trio were nevertheless shown the courtesy of being left to enjoy themselves. Still, whenever any of them spotted a familiar face in the crowd, they would wave and call out and sometimes share a few words.

Colin Creevey, now a leading freelance photographer in the wizarding world, spent all night in a paroxysm of ecstasy at the endless photo opportunities surrounding him regardless of which way he turned. His face flushed and his eyes bright with rapture, he promised the Trio he'd send them copies of his best photos.

Close to two a.m., when Harry tracked down Alcott Brayden to let him know they were ready to leave, he found him talking to a very attractive witch behind the High Table. Looking a little sheepish, the Minister immediately made his apologies to his companion and asked Harry to accompany him round to the front of the High Table.

Performing a quick sonorus spell on himself, the Minister called for everyone's attention, announcing the evening was coming to an end and thanking everyone for being there; he also expressed gratitude for those who had contributed and worked so hard towards making the whole event such a huge success. Harry knew what was coming and resigned himself to the inevitable; Hermione and Ron appeared out of the crowd just then and joined him, for which he was glad.

`And now, perhaps, Harry, Ron and Hermione would like to say a few words.'

Harry thought it was a bit rich to be asked to make a speech considering the fact his sole, if somewhat selfish, reason for finding the Minister was to get home. He grinned to himself. Not just to get home, but to get home alone with Hermione! Nevertheless, he good-naturedly resigned himself to the inevitable and as the crowd shuffled closer to the dais, the air became charged with expectancy and the Trio all drew their wands to cast the sonorus charm.

Ron raised his hand, palm out, just above his shoulder. `May I speak first, Professor Potter?' he asked with a cheeky grin, drawing laughter.

`Shouldn't Professor Granger speak first, being a lady?' asked Harry, grinning back.

Ron rolled his eyes. `She always got to go first just because she's a girl! It's not fair!' he called out, the audience responding with peals of laughter.

`Watch your manners, Ron, you don't want your mum sending you another howler now, do you?' said Hermione, arching one delicate eyebrow at him.

`All right, all right, you go first!' retorted Ron, adding a muttered, `As always,' that was still quite audible.

`What was that, Ron?' asked Hermione, her hands going to her hips as the laughter continued.

`Perhaps,' said Harry, addressing the crowd, `I'll go first while they -' he indicated Ron and Hermione with his thumbs, `- get on with their bickering on the side here.'

While their exchange was spontaneous, to some it may have appeared contrived; nevertheless, the Trio's bantering delighted those watching. It made them feel as if they were being given a rare insight into the lives of the three famous friends and sharing some of their daily interaction - something most of them would probably never have the opportunity to experience again.

Harry, without having given any thought to a speech, managed to make a very moving one expressing his amazement at the whole evening, saying how much he'd enjoyed it and with his own natural humility, how honoured he was to have been presented with an inaugural Order of Dumbledore. He went on to say he was sure Ron and Hermione felt the same, both of whom smiled and waved as they nodded in agreement.

Without going into any great detail, Harry simply said that despite hardships over the previous five years, he, Ron and Hermione were back together and would never again be parted. When he spotted Luna standing at the bottom of the steps in front of them, Harry beckoned to her to join them. With her own, special, misty smile, she walked up the stairs and stood beside Ron, slipping her hand into his. Harry took Hermione's hand as he turned to the sea of faces one last time.

`When all is said and done, we only want for ourselves what everyone hopes for - a long, happy life with those we love around us. We honestly need no further recognition or accolades - I truly believe any one of you would've done the same as we did if you'd been in our shoes. So thank you one last time and good night!'

Thunderous applause followed and the two couples waved in recognition as they, along with the rest of the Weasleys and Luna's father, moved towards the door behind the High Table. From there, they made their way out to their waiting limousines, Luna and her father going with Percy and Penelope and the twins in one car as they were all being taken to their own homes for the night. Just over an hour later, when everyone had gone to bed and all was quiet in the Burrow, Harry once more crept across the landing to Hermione's room, surprised to find her still in her dress, although she'd removed the sheer overlay. She was leaning on the wall at the end of the bed, gazing out the window into the night, the expression on her face a mixture of serene contentment and joy.

`It's snowing,' she whispered.

Hermione turned to smile at him as he came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and dropping his head to nuzzle her neck, loving the silky feel of her hair against his cheek.

Hermione sighed. `That feels soooo good,' she murmured.

`You look amazing in this dress,' Harry murmured against her neck, running his hands down over her hips and up again to the curve of her waist, Hermione writhing slightly against him in response to his touch.

`Keep that up beautiful lady and I'll have this tux off before you can say Evanesco,' ground out Harry hoarsely.

Turning in his arms to face him, Hermione slipped her arms around his neck and Harry tightened his grip, pulling her hard against him.

`I'm afraid you won't be taking that tux off, Harry,' Hermione told him, her voice low and suggestive.

`I won't?'

`No,' said Hermione with a wicked smile, `that's something I've wanted to do all night and you're not going to deprive me.' As she spoke, she slowly ran her hands from Harry's neck down to grasp the lapels of his jacket, grasping them and pushing it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Next, she began to undo the small, black buttons of his waistcoat.

`Wouldn't dream of it,' Harry managed finally, watching her fingers as though hypnotised. When the last button was undone, Harry quickly removed the waistcoat himself before he began pulling his shirt out of his pants.

Hermione playfully slapped his hands and “tsked”, shaking her head, guiding his hands back to her waist. She smiled up at him and Harry became aware of his heart racing erratically as her hands began pulling at his shirt until it was freed. Unable to take his eyes from hers, Harry was acutely aware of Hermione's fingers now busy undoing the buttons of his shirt from the top down. The sensation of her fingers moving against his bare skin as she worked her way down was making the blood pound in his ears.

When Hermione's warm fingers reached the button that sat level with his belt, Harry's grip tightened convulsively on her waist in anticipation of the possibility that her hands may just brush against - and then they did. Dear Merlin! His head dropped back, his eyes closing as a deep groan reverberated in his chest. Harry was barely aware of Hermione undoing his cuff buttons but when she ran her hands up and over the bare skin of his stomach and chest he couldn't prevent the reflexive tremor that passed through his body. Hermione grasped his shirt just below the collar and Harry regained enough presence of mind to help in removing it, not caring where it landed when he let go of it.

Their gazes were once more locked as Hermione's tantalising hands now travelled slowly downwards as though savouring each second of contact with his skin. Harry was surprised when Hermione didn't begin undoing his belt; instead, he found himself staring as she lifted her arms and reached around to undo something at the back of her neck. As she lowered her hands and began to pull gently on the shoulders of her gown, it dropped to the floor, Harry's eyes involuntarily following the shimmering black dress as it pooled around her feet with a sensuous slithering sound. Harry's gaze then moved slowly upwards, over her legs - encased in sheer, black stockings - over lacy, French knickers, lingering on the silky white skin of her stomach, widening as they came to rest on the black lace bra and the enticing curve of her breasts.

As his eyes slowly returned to meet hers once more, the look of inexpressible love combined with desperate desire he found in those beloved brown depths wrenched a low, hoarse groan from somewhere deep inside him. He instinctively reached out for her, wrapping his arms around her, deliriously aware of the feel of her breasts and stomach pressed against his naked chest. He turned and dropped onto the bed, pulling Hermione with him, seeking her lips and kissing her deeply.

If it had been possible for him to put his thoughts and feelings into words at that moment, he would have told her, `As long as you are with me, Hermione, I'll be happy. You are all I've wanted for so long. You are all I'll ever need…I love you…'

*

As the sky began to lighten hours later, they woke to the sight of a sparkling, pristine snowscape.

`How perfect,' murmured Hermione, kneeling on the bed and gazing out the window.

Harry pulled her down again so that she lay on her side next to him, her head supported on her propped elbow.

`Merry Christmas, love,' he said, his voice roughened with sleep.

Lifting her free hand, Hermione traced the outline of his lips with her finger, smiling.

`Merry Christmas, Harry.'

`You will marry me, won't you?'

Hermione's eyes widened momentarily and then she laughed lightly.

`Do you need to ask?' she said, her eyes shining.

`I'm remembering my manners,' he replied, waggling his eyebrows at her. `I don't want to risk getting a howler!'

Hermione laughed. `Then I'd best remember mine and give you a proper answer: Of course I'll marry you!'

`Wouldn't've taken no for an answer anyway, you know.'

Hermione gazed down at him, her fingers trailing from his mouth across his cheek and into his hair, playing absentmindedly with the unruly strands.

`I wouldn't've been able to say no to you, Harry,' she said tenderly.

Harry's green eyes seemed to Hermione to darken as he stretched out his arm. `Accio ring!'

Hermione froze, gazing at Harry in complete surprise.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw something catch the light for a second before Harry's fingers closed around it.

Bringing his closed fist between them, he slowly opened his fingers, his eyes on Hermione's face, watching her closely.

Her gasp of sheer delight brought a smile of satisfaction to Harry's face. Hermione lifted her gaze to his and he could see tears in her eyes. Pushing herself upright, Hermione sat cross-legged, leaning back against the wall. She held out her left hand palm down with her fingers splayed as she looked at him, her eyes glowing with happiness.

Harry sat up too, facing Hermione, thinking she'd never looked more beautiful as the dawn light shone through her hair. Taking her hand, Harry slipped the ring on, his eyes locked on hers every moment.

`I love you, Hermione,' he said softly, `thank you for marrying me.'

Hermione gave him a tremulous smile as a tear slid slowly down each cheek. `I love you, Harry. Thank you for everything.'

As she glanced down at the ring, a gold band with a brilliant, heart-shaped diamond, Harry gently cupped her face with both his hands, his thumbs brushing away her tears.

She looked up at him again. `The most perfectly happiest day of my life,' she whispered.

`And mine,' he replied, just before his lips covered hers.

*

Of course, Harry and Hermione weren't the only ones who had a perfectly happy day.

The Burrow was bursting with Weasleys and more by lunchtime. Bill and Fleur had given in to Molly's pleading and were staying for lunch and the opening of presents before leaving to be with their daughters. Arthur was at the mercy of a frantic Molly since they'd invited the Lovegoods and the Grangers to join them for lunch, making a total of twenty-one people.

Charlie and Cordelia arrived with baby Sam and everything came to halt as he was fussed over, Molly only managing to tear herself away when she looked at the family grandfather clock and saw her hand was pointing to “Lunch is running very late!” The one time baby Sam cried, clock-Hagrid was seen running out, wringing his hands as he peered around anxiously to see what the strange noise was. Lunch ended up being only a little late and no one really minded.

There was a marvellous paper fight after everyone had unwrapped their presents, which had Molly's wand swishing through the air to catch the coloured missiles while she scolded the perpetrators, shocked into silence when she saw Percy was one of them, Penelope laughing at him so much she was crying.

Arthur drank too much Ogden's and insisted on dancing with his wife around the kitchen table as he sang “Jingle Bells”. Bill and Fleur had brought some French champagne which they chilled with their wands and insisted everyone drink some to celebrate Harry and Hermione's engagement - except Ginny, of course. Hermione wasn't sure whether it was the champagne or just sheer joy that was making her feel a little dizzy.

Fred and George, having joined their father, along with Dean, in emptying a bottle of Ogden's, spent most of the day getting up to mischief and drove their mother to distraction, especially when they decided the garden gnomes must be cold and miserable and tried bringing some inside to warm up by the fire. Bedlam ensued as Hermione's parents had brought Crookshanks with them. Molly told the twins in no uncertain terms what would happen to them if they ever brought garden gnomes into her house again, especially when they had nowhere to hide and Crookshanks was around!

Ron and Luna were happy spectators to most of the goings on, preferring to sit together and just enjoy each other's company.

By the time six o'clock came around, Arthur was asleep in his favourite chair by the fire, Charlie and Cordelia had left with an exhausted little baby Sam, Bill and Fleur had left first with a promise to bring champagne the following Christmas; Luna's father, Percy and Penelope left shortly after the Grangers, who took a frustrated Crookshanks back with them after which Ginny retired to her room to get some rest and Dean went with her.

Fred and George were sitting on the floor, leaning back against the couch on which Harry, Hermione, Ron and Luna were sitting, enjoying the peace and quiet and the warmth of the fireplace. Ron and Luna were sitting with their arms around each other, sporting very contented expressions. Molly was sitting in her usual armchair, her eyes closed as she listened to the wireless.

Everyone looked up at the clock as the doors opened and the little Hagrid staggered out. He grinned at them all, hiccoughed, tried in vain to clash his cymbals - but lacked the co-ordination to do so - then winked and waved a cymbal-clad hand at them all and staggered back into his clock again.

`Fred, George…'

`Ah, well, Mum, it's Christmas after all!' said Fred, waving his arms expansively.

`We only gave him a thimbleful of Ogden's,' said George as he grinned at her. `You know how we like to share.'

Molly sighed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head in resignation as the foursome sitting on the couch all laughed. Then quiet descended once more, the only sound the gentle strains of “Silent Night” coming from the wireless. Hermione was sitting on Harry's right; he had one arm around her shoulders, his other hand holding her left hand as they gazed contentedly into the crackling, dancing flames.

Glancing down at their hands and seeing the fire reflected in her new ring, Hermione smiled, then looked up at Harry, only to find his eyes on her, a tender smile curving his lips.

`Perfect ending to a perfect day,' she sighed happily.

And she knew he agreed by the way he kissed her…

And as they kissed, a rather unsteady little clock-Hagrid reappeared, stumbling out and enthusiastically ringing two tiny Christmas bells which, perhaps unfortunately, didn't require as much coordination as his customary cymbals… Then he began to sing along with the radio, swaying gently on the spot, sounding about as tuneful as his real-life counterpart.

`All this racket is your fault,' grumbled Fred, elbowing his brother.

`S'yours. Was your idea to buy that clock,' retorted George.

`You found it.'

`You thought it was cute.'

`You're a git.'

`You're a bigger one.'

`I'll turn you both into gits if you don't shut up,' interrupted Harry gruffly.

Momentary silence.

`What d'you reckon a git'd look like?' whispered Fred to George and quick as a wink, two small round mirrors appeared with a “pop”, bobbing in front of the twins' faces…

THE END

Author's Note

Thank you so much, each and every one of you, for reading and reviewing - I can't tell you how much I appreciate it! I'm now going to have a little “holiday” from posting stories (not necessarily writing them!) as I have way too much on my plate between now and Christmas…which is only ten weeks away, you know!

I wish you all an absolutely brilliant Christmas - stay safe and keep well and I hope to “see” you again next year! *waves and blows kisses*

Cheers!

Janie xoxo

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