The Mattress Fortress

adamolupin

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 19/08/2006
Last Updated: 11/10/2006
Status: completed

RATING HAS BEEN UPPED!! Harry, Hermione, and Ron have just defeated Voldemort, but are cooped up in isolation indefinitely. Bored to tears, they try to invent their own fun and maybe find out something about themselves they hadn't considered before. PREQUEL to "Lessons."

Chapters

1. untitled

2. Chapter 2

3. Chapter 3

4. Chapter 4

5. Chapter 5

6. Epilogue

1. untitled

A/N: Hi! I'm still here! Ok, so in Austin Powers (the first one), you know when that guard is about to get run over by the steamroller and he has tons of space and time to move, but he doesn't, so he just stands there screaming until he does get run over? Yeah, that was life to me. Saw it coming, couldn't move, so I just stood there until I got run over. I've had this written out for about 3 weeks now, but I wasn't about to let it out without a beta (thank you Pips!!). So it sat until I could puff myself up from the flattening, find a beta, and post this.

This IS the prequel to “Lessons” and all the stories associated thereof, but it can be read on its own. I doubt very much it'll contain references to those stories, so those who haven't read “Lessons” and its associated stories should be safe. I'm not entirely certain where this is going nor how long it'll be, so enjoy the ride!

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Whoever knew that winning would be so boring?” Ron sighed, flopping back onto his hospital bed.

Harry and Hermione mumbled their agreements. They were all for boring, but boring doing something, not boring sitting around not doing something.

It had been exactly six days since the fall of Voldemort. Six days, two hours and thirty-seven minutes by Hermione's watch. They knew because they'd counted. Two of those days Harry had spent in a coma and Ron and Hermione had spent in a healer induced sleep to help alleviate a year's worth of exhaustion. Once all of them had woken, they'd lazed around in their robes and pajamas, thankful they didn't have to do anything except eat, sleep, and talk. They had a whole ward consisting of seven beds to each side of the room to themselves to walk around. Despite that, they chose to stick close to the window, the table beneath, and their beds.

On the fourth day they were allowed to see their families. The Grangers and Molly and Arthur Weasley bustled in and fussed over the three, alternating between laughing and crying. Mrs. Weasley came bearing gifts, a heaping hamper of food and a box of games. From where he sat on the edge of his bed Harry didn't see that as a good sign, but he'd barely had time to acknowledge that thought before Mrs. Weasley had engulfed him in a smothering hug. Ron rescued him just as he was beginning to see spots.

“So when do we get to leave, mum?” Ron had asked a few minutes later.

The Grangers and the Weasleys glanced at each other becoming alarmingly quiet.

“What?” Hermione had asked looking between her parents and the Weasleys.

“Weeeell . . .” Arthur had begun.

“The healers want you to stay in isolation for a bit longer,” Molly had started when Arthur seemed unwilling to continue. “They feel you need more time to recuperate and heal.”

“There's more to it than that. Why can't we do that at home?” Hermione had asked suspiciously.

“The healers also want to make double sure that Harry hasn't been . . . unduly influenced by You-Know- oh sod it, Voldemort,” Arthur had chipped in, barely suppressing a wince at the name that came out of his own lips, “and there's a mob outside. The Apparition points have all been overrun to the point where St. Mungo's administrators are considering putting up anti-Apparition wards over all the points, leaving a couple open for emergencies. They want you to wait here until the excitement dies down from chaos to a mere feeding frenzy.”

“And how long will that take?” Harry had asked with dread.

“A few days, tops, to both make sure you're unaffected by V-V-Voldemort,” Molly had smiled proudly to herself, “and for the excitement to die down.”

A few days, it seemed, was turning into seven with no end in sight. They'd played Wizard's chess, Wizard's checkers, Gobstones, Exploding Snap, Muggle and Wizard's Solitaire, Muggle Monopoly, even Sorry, until they were sick to death and mutually swore that if they ever saw a chess piece, fake money or playing card ever again it'd be too soon.

They also hadn't had any more visitors beyond the healers either.

“I spy with my little eye -“ Harry began.

“Don't,” Hermione warned. “Not that again. We already know all the colors in the room, nothing's changed.”

“But I have a new one!”

“Let me guess, you spy green.”

“How'd you know?”

“Everyone saw the healer bring in that new blanket, mate,” Ron piped up from the bed beside Harry's. “I'm guessing a number between one and ten.”

“Four,” Harry and Hermione intoned in unison.

“And Hermione always picks paper and we always pick rock,” Harry sighed. “What I wouldn't give to be in a coma right now.”

“Harry James!” Hermione gasped. “Don't you ever say that again!”

“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly.

They lay there on their backs, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. There was a long silence before Ron spoke up. “I see a bunny this time,” he said pointing up.

“I've got it!” Harry sat up and jumped off his bed.

“What?” Hermione sat up and watched him run around the room yanking the sheets, blankets and pillows off the beds.

“We are going to build a fort!” He flipped one of the metal framed beds on its side.

“Harry, we can't!” Hermione gasped, scandalized at the mess he was making. “The healers -“

“Sod the healers, this is brilliant!” Ron laughed, hurrying over to help.

In no time they had a fort of sorts made up of two bed frames on their sides, a couple of mattresses laying crossways to provide the ceiling and another mattress laying at the back for a third wall. Blankets provided a handy door and the rest had either been laid inside or were draped over the “ceiling.” Cushioning charms and a warming charm on the floor inside finished off their creation.

“I steadfastly refuse to go in there,” Hermione called out after they'd slipped inside.

“C'mon, you know you want to join us,” Ron called out from inside their fort. “It's a Fortress of Luuurve!”

Hermione snorted loud enough to hear them inside their haven. “Too bad you aren't my love.”

“She just had to rub that in,” Ron muttered to his best friend.

“To be fair, you did bring it up,” Harry murmured back.

“You can be you know,” Ron called out in a cajoling voice.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, that's the way to a girl's heart: promise her a snog in a mattress fort. Real romantic.”

“Shut it you.”

“Been there, done that, have the emotional scars as a souvenir, thank you very much,” Hermione retorted.

“It wasn't that bad was it?” Ron asked poking his head out the blanket door.

“Ron, if I had a brother and I desperately decided I wanted to kiss him in the middle of a frost bitten run down castle, I wouldn't need to. I'd already know what it was like because I'd already kissed you.”

He winced. “Ok, it was that bad, but that doesn't mean you can't join us.”

“If it's your Fortress of Luuurve, perhaps I shouldn't be disturbing you two. Three's a crowd you know,” she replied with a smirk.

Ron yelped and scurried out from under the mattresses. Harry poked his head from beneath the blankets and gave his best friend a look that clearly said, “Gimme a break.”

“Not that there's anything wrong with that!” Ron spoke up hastily, the tips of his ears going red. “I'll just be over here.”

“All right then, I'll be in my Fortress of Solitude by myself,” Harry called out retreating behind the blankets.

Hermione watched Harry for a quiet moment. Wasn't he a little claustrophobic? she wondered to herself before she was distracted by Ron setting up Sorry.

When the healers came for their daily check up, they looked at the beds reprovingly, but made no comments. They understood how bored the three teenagers were and the beds could be easily returned to their proper states.

“Harry, have any You-Know-Whoish tendencies?”

“Nope,” he replied from inside the fort.

“Any unexplained rage or need to crucio people for no reason?”

“Nope.”

“Good. We'll see you tomorrow then.”

“When do we get out of here?” That was Ron.

“Four more days of testing on Harry, then it's up to the public to back off.”

“What's being done about that?” That was Hermione.

“Not much at this point. Crowd control mostly. We just have to wait for them to get bored and go home.”

Ron whined in the back of his throat.

“But, as a consolation prize, we did bring lunch!”

Harry came out to eat and the new games and books the healers brought were a welcome distraction. For the time being it seemed as though the fortress was forgotten.

Later that night, Hermione woke with a frown. It was getting harder and harder to fall asleep at night to the point where she, Ron, and Harry were finally nodding off around two in the morning. The lack of stimulation was making it hard for their brains to shut down at night considering they were pretty much shut down during the day too. But even still, once asleep, she usually stayed that way, so why was she awake?

She looked about the room and noticed Harry missing from his bed. He couldn't have gone far, since wards had been set up to keep unauthorized people out and keep them in. She sat up to call a healer, but that was when she heard a whimper from the fort.

Hermione slipped out of her bed, padded silently to the fort and slipped inside. She started slightly at the sudden brightness as the moon outside reflected in his eyes. “Harry,” she gasped softly. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I woke up,” he whispered simply.

She took the initiative to lie next to him, snuggling under the warm blankets. “Bad dream?”

He was silent for a long moment, a dark shadow under the mattresses. “Yeah. I - Do I have to talk about it?”

“No,” she whispered back. “I was there. I know.”

They were quiet for a few moments, the silence between them comfortable. “Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“I thought you were a bit claustrophobic.”

“I am. A little. But in here it feels . . . comfortable. I mean a part of me doesn't like it in here, but a bigger part feels safe enough to override that other part. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately it does. How're you feeling?”

“Ok. I think. I keep thinking about the dream.” He shifted closer to her, unconsciously seeking out comfort. He'd never done that before, but Hermione willingly gave what he sought. She wrapped her arms around him and he tentatively laid his head on her chest, wrapping an arm around her waist. She hadn't realized how much comfort she could receive by giving it to him. He felt good in her arms and smelled good too, or as good as hospital smell could get. Almost unconsciously, she began running her fingers through his perpetually messy hair, soothing away his bad dreams and kicking up the smell of sunshine like dust motes.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice muffled by her t-shirt.

“Any time,” she whispered back on the cusp of dreaming.

-->

2. Chapter 2

A/N: I apologize a billion times at how long this took to post, but I'm still recovering from life and it's only been until recently when I've been able to sit at a computer for any length of time. Hopefully the next chapter will get to you quicker!

I have to say I'm astounded by the reviews of the first chapter! I'll try to respond to all of them but for now I'll only be able to respond to the ones with questions. Again, I'm not sure how long this story is going to be so I hope you enjoy the ride until we get there! Thank you a billion times to those who reviewed and read! And thank you a billion times to my saviour Pips!

P.S. I hope you like cheese, `cause I sure do!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry,” the psychologist, Raylund Sleeps, smiled blandly reaching out to shake the younger man's hand.

“Er, thanks,” Harry replied a bit warily. He sat in the plush chair across from Sleeps and eyed the psychologist. The older man was about average height, average weight, average build. Everything about him was average, which Harry could only guess was to calm the patient by making Sleeps a non-threat. Even his name was average. Idly Harry wondered if people were hypnotized if anyone ever tried to repeatedly get his attention in a crowd.

“I'd like to be the first to say thank you.”

Actually Sleeps would be about the tenth, after all the healers, to say that, but Harry didn't feel it was terribly important to correct him. “Er, you're welcome?”

“So . . . how're you feeling?”

“Bored.”

That seemed to take Sleeps by surprise. He blinked at Harry a couple of times before jotting something down. “And why are you bored?”

Harry lifted an eyebrow incredulously. “I've been in isolation for seven almost eight days now. Ron, Hermione, and I have played the same games read the same books, and looked at the same five walls that entire time. Wouldn't you be bored?”

“Please save all questions for after the session,” came the reply.

Harry rolled his eyes.

* * * * * *

“Ms. Granger, delighted to meet you!” Raymund Sleeps greeted her jovially with his hand outstretched.

Hermione looked at the creepily non-descript man a bit warily as she shook his hand. Why was he so ebullient? “Hello.”

“Sit down, please.”

Once Hermione had settled, Sleeps sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of his lips. “So.”

His stare was just becoming unnerving when he erupted in a flurry of writing on his parchment pad. Nutters, Hermione thought.

“So. How do you feel?” he asked no looking up from his writing.

“Bored.”

“And why's that?”

Hermione lifted her eyebrows disbelievingly. “You're joking right?”

********

“Mr. Weasley, so very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Ron looked at the man with a bit of wariness before shaking his hand and sitting. “Why do I have to do this again?”

“Please, refrain all questions for after the session. So tell me Mr. Weasley -“

“Ron, please. My father's Mr. Weasley.”

Sleeps blinked owl-like before his lips tightened in displeasure. Hmm, apparently someone didn't like to be interrupted, Ron thought with a small grin.

“So tell me, how do you feel?”

“Hungry.”

********

“So then he said, `What do you like to think about?'” Ron was saying later that night just after they'd headed to bed. “What was the point of speaking to the man?”

“I think they wanted to make sure that we weren't traumatized by the war,” Hermione replied, curling up on her side and looking over at the boys.

Ron rolled his eyes. “I'm more traumatized by Sleeps than I am by the war.”

“So what'd you say?” Harry asked turning his head to look at his other best friend.

“Girls. Food. Food on girls. Is there really anything else to think about?”

“Economic depression, the rights of elves, werewolves, centaurs, goblins and the like,” Hermione piped up, “the rebuilding of Britain's Wizarding World, our futures -“

Ron eased up onto his elbow and made a face. “Ok, I get it Ms. Smarty pants. I was being fascist.”

Harry gave Ron an odd look and Hermione snorted a giggle. “You were being what?” Harry asked.

“Fascist. You know, being funny. Joking.”

Hermione laughed, falling back on her bed. “Facetious! You meant facetious.”

Ron waved his hand dismissively and lay back on his bed. “Whatever. You knew what I meant.”

“Good thing we've got N.E.W.T's in Ron-ese,” Harry grinned over at Hermione.

“Oi! Which side are you on Potter?”

“Well right now none as it appears I'm on my back.”

“Har de har,” Ron replied turning onto his other side. “Everyone's a bloody comedian,” he muttered amongst other imprecations, warnings, threats and general grousings before abruptly dropping off into a snore whilst practically in mid-grumble.

Hermione and Harry looked over at each other laughing softly. Still grinning, Harry cut his eyes over to the fort and looked back over at Hermione with a questioning quirk of his eyebrows.

They leapt out of bed, laughing and giggling softly; their socked feet slipping on the tiles as they gently pushed and shoved each other trying to get to the fort first. Quickly realizing that she was no match for his strength, she changed tactics.

“Nice pants Potter,” Hermione laughingly called from the safety of the fortress.

Harry closed his mouth and shook his head while pulling up his pyjama bottoms. “Resorting to pantsing me. How Slytherin of you, Granger,” he replied crawling in next to her.

“Maybe the healers should be asking me if I'm exhibiting - how did they put it? You-know-whoish tendencies? And not you,” Hermione grinned.

“The psychological counseling at St. Mungo's is the best in the Wizarding world you know Hermione,” Harry teased with a grin. He settled on his back and stretched out his arm inviting her to snuggle into the crook.

She went immediately into his arms, secretly pleasing Harry for a reason he wasn't too sure about or quite willing to analyze yet. “Mr. Potter. Pleasure to meet you,” Hermione intoned gravely.

Harry looked down to see a teasing glint in her eye. “Nice to meet you too, Dr. Granger,” he played along, the edges of his mouth twitching.

“So. How do you feel?” Hermione asked with mock seriousness.

Harry snorted a bit of a laugh before composing his face into an expression of neutrality. “Well, as of right now I feel pretty good.”

“I said that I was bored and he looked at me as if I'd gone off my rocker,” Hermione confessed in a whisper.

“Me too,” Harry grinned.

“And why is it that you feel `pretty good,' Mr. Potter?” Hermione asked returning to her mock-serious tone and expression.

“Please call me Harry.”

“Mr. Potter.”

Harry chuckled. “Well, I'm laying here with my best friend having some fun.”

“And I suppose the savior of the Wizarding world doesn't have any fun?”

“Hence my prior boredom, Dr. Granger,” he grinned. “So. Hermione,” he began adopting the same mock serious tone that she had. “What do you want to do with your life now?”

“Well, I believe my life's ambition was to become a stripper.”

Harry clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the bark of laughter that bubbled up inside him.

“So I figure when I get out of here I'll apply at Muggle strip club, get some experience then find a Wizarding club. A ritzy one. I have standards you know.”

“Well if you need help, I can be your pole any day,” Harry replied before thinking.

The momentary silence that sprang up between them was tense and filled with something both exciting and unnerving at the same time. “That - that came out the wrong way,” Harry murmured glad that it was dark so she wouldn't see the blush staining his cheeks.

Hermione cleared her throat softly. “At least I know that you support me in my career decision,” she teased lightly.

Harry rolled over onto his side facing Hermione and cupped her cheek. “All joking aside, I'll support your decision to do whatever you choose whenever we get out of here.”

Hermione turned her cheek into his palm, her eyes searching his in what little light managed to make it through the fort from the windows. “Thank you Harry. Do you know what you want to do?”

“Not a clue. But I'll figure something out. I always seem to land on my feet. What about you?”

“Same. There're so many options out there. It's a bit overwhelming to be honest.”

“We'll figure it out,” Harry murmured, his thumb tracing the profile of her nose then around her lips to the corner of her mouth.

“I feel ridiculous that I can't seem to do anything alone anymore.”

“How often have any of us done anything alone?”

Hermione smiled against his thumb. “That's true.” She scooted forward, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around his waist. She smelled sweet, inviting with a hint of parchment and book, even after days cooped up in a hospital. “Whatever happens, we'll face it together right?”

“Absolutely.”

-->

3. Chapter 3

A/N: Can I say I love you guys? Even though I haven't replied to all of the reviews, I have read every single one and I absolutely love all of them! Thank you so so very much! You have no idea how much I love hearing how much you guys have laughed or aww'd or just loved the story.

I do apologize for how long it took to get this chapter out, but I hadn't been feeling well for about two weeks and it wasn't until recently when I was able to sit at a computer and write. I sincerely hope that the following chapters will come out much quicker and at fairly regular intervals, like every or every other week (but no promises!!).

This chapter's only been half beta'd (thanks once again to Pips, I love you!), so any mistakes, crap writing and Americanisms are my own.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Ron. Ron, put the harmonica down,” Hermione ordered sternly.

“Give it up, mate,” Harry called up to his best friend who was currently standing on his bed in a vain attempt to get away from Hermione. “You can't play it and hearing you just blow into it is driving us nuts!”

“But I've got the blues!” To prove this point Ron blew tunelessly into the harmonica, dancing out of Hermione's reach. “Isn't this what Muggles do when they have the blues?”

“No, Ron! They eat chocolate, talk to a psychiatrist, take medication, they do anything but play the harmonica!” Hermione ground out between gritted teeth. “Now if you don't give me that bloody -“

Ron gasped and turned looking like he was going to crawl up the wall in horror. “Harry! She swore!”

But Harry wasn't paying attention to the squabbling; instead his gaze was intently focused on the door to their ward.

“Harry?”

“Harry?”

“Shh. Do you hear that?”

There was a definite low rumble just outside the doors making the three teens inside tense and a bit nervous.

Before either of them had a chance to react (except for a short shriek Ron would later insist was a manly yelp), the double doors burst open and a tidal wave of people rolled into the room. At the forefront were all the Weasleys followed by Hermione's parents, the Gryffindors in their year and the ones they knew in the year below, members of Dumbledore's Army and members of the Order. In a matter of minutes the ward was packed to the brim with people and noise.

Overwhelmed to the point where all they could do was gape, the three could only passively accept the hugs, kisses, pats on the back and handshakes for the first minute or so. When their brains finally caught up with their eyes, they were at last able to smile and hug everyone.

They ate the lunch Mrs. Weasley had made while talking to and laughing with their friends. A part of Hermione sat back and watched in awe. She hadn't realized she'd known so many people let alone called most of them friend. It was overwhelming and warming all at once.

She glanced surreptitiously over at Harry and was even more warmed by the laughter and joy in his eyes. For the past few days they'd been stuck in the hospital, he'd worn a vaguely haunted look in his eyes even when she knew he was having fun. Now that look was wiped clean by the antics of Seamus and the twins.

“Hermione!”

She looked over and her face lit up at her best friend weaving and skirting her way through the crowd. “Ginny!”

The two girls embraced and it was like the last few days hadn't even happened. They chatted and Ginny caught Hermione up on the events unfolding outside, slipping her several Daily Prophets and Quibblers. “How long will you be able to stay?” Hermione asked.

“As long as we want, according to the Healers,” Ginny replied casting furtive looks over at Harry and frowning slightly.

“And how long will that be?” Hermione asked a touch coolly, trying her hardest to mask the annoyance in her voice

“Probably tonight,” Ginny replied, shifting nervously in her seat and returning her attention to Hermione. She either hadn't noticed or ignored Hermione's tone of voice. “Fred and George brought a few bottles of Firewhisky and butter beer. They feel honor-bound to get everyone who stays drunk.”

Hermione frowned slightly at this. “What about your parents and mine?”

“I over heard them say that they weren't going to stay long, maybe a couple of hours. I can't imagine the rest of the Order staying much longer either,” Ginny replied with a mischievous and wicked glint in her eye. “You're not going to say anything are you?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “We're all adults, or almost anyway. I can't stop anyone from getting pissed; I just don't want to hear it from anyone if I choose not to participate.”

Ginny nodded. “Point taken.”

True to Ginny's prediction the parents left within a couple of hours, having given and received all the hugs and love they could on the three and shortly thereafter the older members of the Order slowly trickled out the door. Tonks and Remus were the last to leave, Tonks giving everyone who was left a wink. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do,” she winked at them with a knowing smirk.

“Go plan your wedding!” Ginny laughed throwing a pillow that hit the door where Tonks' face had been moments before.

They could hear her laughter echoing down the hallway. Luna, Fred, George, Seamus, Neville, Dean, Ginny and the three occupants of the ward were the only ones left. Fred tip-toed up to the doors, checked to make sure they were in relative privacy before warding the doors and turning back to the others.

“George, if you will.”

“My pleasure, Fred.”

“Now this is why I love my brothers,” Ron sighed as George brought out five shrunken bottles of Firewhisky, a shrunken case of butter beer, and shrunken cups. They were quickly resized and the liquor doled out.

“Oi, you three! I've been meaning to ask. What does this mean?” Seamus asked pointing to the fort with a glass of Firewhisky in hand. Ron had put up a piece of parchment that had “Fortress of Lurve” in large lettering. Harry had crossed out “Lurve” and put “Solitude” in the little space he had left next to “Lurve” before all of that had been crossed out and Harry had written “Hermione's Ritzy Strip Club” in the space he could find. “And what is this thing anyway?”

Ron, who'd been brought up to date as to what “Hermione's Ritzy Strip Club” meant sans Harry's embarrassing declaration, and Hermione and Harry looked at each other, unsure if they wanted to divulge what exactly the fort was and what it meant to them. Harry and Hermione shared a private glance, knowing that the fort meant something different to them than it did to Ron. While he knew about the joke behind the strip club, Ron still didn't know that for the past two nights his two best friends had been sleeping in the fort with each other and that their friendship was deepening beyond the level it had been earlier that week. At least that was how Hermione viewed it. She wasn't so sure about Harry, although she hoped. “It's nothing,” Harry finally spoke up with a nonchalant shrug.

“A fit of boredom,” Hermione spoke up.

“It's probably not all that funny if you weren't there,” Ron replied with a similar shrug.

Seamus gave them odd looks but shrugged. “Okay.”

Hermione glanced over and noticed Ginny giving Harry a faint look of relief. What in the world? Hopefully the Firewhisky would loosen Ginny's lips and Hermione would be able to ask her some questions she'd normally be tight lipped about.

The Firewhisky did do its job, but not in the way Hermione was hoping. While nursing her butter beer, she, Luna, and Ginny watched with mild fascination and disgust as each of the boys, all of whom were a bit deep in their cups, took turns belching the loudest until Luna, who'd remained eerily quiet most of the night, stood, cleared her throat to gain the attention of everyone and let loose a window-rattler of a belch.

She daintily cleared her throat again and sat back down. “Pardon me, but that had been building all night,” she explained, crossing her legs and gazing vacantly out the nearby window.

They all stared at her in amazement. “I think I'm in love,” Ron said dazedly, watching Luna with a newfound awe, respect, and a little something else Hermione hadn't seen in his eyes since before Ron had kissed her all those months ago.

Fred, George, and Seamus whistled loudly and gave Ron a good ribbing. “Oh, oh! Can I be in your wedding?” Dean asked with a smirk.

Ron's ears, which had been quite pink from the alcohol, turned beet red from the teasing. “Sure, you can be a bridesmaid,” Harry piped up when Ron only sat there sputtering.

Hermione giggled and looked over at Luna who sat serenely with a knowing smirk on her face. “You would look beautiful in satin and organdy,” Luna spoke up earning Ron an appreciative look.

Everyone laughed at that even Dean who shook his head. “What the hell is organdy?” he asked.

No one even bothered to explain, but spent the next hour planning out Ron and Luna's wedding and the bridesmaid dresses the boys would wear. Fred handed Hermione another butter beer which, in hindsight, she should've questioned, but she had been laughing far too hard to even notice who'd given her the refilled glass.

The night went on in a similar fashion until it was nearly three in the morning when the party began to wind down.

Hermione leaned against Harry, giggling her head off at a joke that probably wouldn't have been nearly as funny had she been sober. Fred was passed out on one of the beds, cradling an empty bottle of Firewhisky, his bum in the air and George was passed out under the same bed muttering something about Nosebleed Nougats. Dean, Neville and Seamus were passed out on separate beds further down the ward. Ginny was still awake, staring pensively out the window while Ron and Luna were snogging furiously on his bed.

“Are you drunk?” Harry whispered with a grin that made Hermione melt inside.

“Um, maybe a little. I think Fred may have slipped me some Firewhisky in my beer,” Hermione whispered back. “Or was it George? Are you?”

Harry chuckled again. “Yeah, I'm pretty pissed.”

Feeling more emboldened than she ever would be sober, Hermione stood and took Harry's hand leading him to the fort. Harry plopped unceremoniously on the ground and scooted inside bunching up all the blankets and sheets with him. “Oh bugger,” he muttered trying to smooth out the mess he'd made while Hermione giggled at him from where she sat outside on her knees.

“Help,” he called out a few moments later, rolled up like a cigar in the blankets. Hermione fell back laughing hard, barely disturbing the people passed out. Luna and Ron paused in their soft moaning and rolling around to spare her a glance before resuming their snogging and Ginny looked over with a mysterious little grin on her face before resuming her city watching.

“Harry, you're hopeless,” Hermione laughed crawling inside to help unravel him from the blankets and sheets.

“I can see the Daily Prophet now: The Boy Who Lived, Done In By Blankets,” Harry laughed, sprawling out once Hermione had finally freed him. “Now that would be ironing.”

Hermione snorted a laugh which caused them both to double over laughing on their sides facing each other. “I think - I think the twins put a lot of Firewhisky in my beer,” Hermione sighed, calming down.

A long low moan drifted across the room and Harry and Hermione's eyes widened in realization that it was coming from Ron or Luna, it was hard to tell. “Oh that's just gross,” Ginny muttered. Harry and Hermione burst out into another fit of giggling they tried to muffle with their blankets.

“I think I have to agree with Ginny,” Hermione whispered once she could talk.

Harry nodded in agreement, watching her in the darkness with a small smile on his face. Hermione calmed, the smile on her face slowly fading into one of curious drunken contemplation. “So serious,” she murmured reaching over to caress his lips with the tips of her fingers.

He cracked a grin at that and trapped her fingers in his hand. He placed soft barely there kisses that tickled but made her feel even more highly aware of him than she'd ever felt before. A tingle start somewhere at her fingers, shot down her arm and through her body at a speed that had to be faster than normal nerve conduction. “Harry,” she gasped softly.

“Yes?” he murmured, his lips trailing down her fingers to the palm of her hand.

“What - what're -“ she gasped softly, her breathing speeding up, “mmm, don't stop doing that.” He was doing something to her wrist with his lips, tongue and teeth making her toes curl.

“Are you drunk enough to let me kiss you?” he asked, his face suddenly much closer to hers.

“I don't have to be drunk to let you kiss me,” she replied.

Harry's face turned into one of confusion and concentration. “So is that a yes?”

Hermione chuckled softly. “Yes that's a yes.”

“Ok, good,” he murmured while she shifted onto her back and he leaned over her. “I'm a bit too drunk for anything more than yes and no answers.”

Hermione grinned up at him, wrapping her arms lazily around his neck. “I'll remember that for next time we're drunk.”

Harry grinned at her and slowly leaned down, caressing her lips softly with hers. It was a tentative first kiss, but the second one gained the confidence the first one lacked. His lips pressed harder and Hermione closed her eyes, a soft whimper escaping as his tongue teased her lips apart. The kiss went on for long drugging minutes that neither wanted to stop.

“Harry,” she murmured as his lips trailed from her lips across her jaw and down her throat when they finally managed break apart to breathe. She ran her hands around his neck and down his chest, wanting to feel more of his warm skin.

Hermione had been too caught up in exploring the hard contours and soft skin on Harry's back to realize that he'd stopped his exploration of her neck. “Harry?” she whispered, poking his shoulder.

His response was a soft snore.

“Bloody buggering hell,” Hermione muttered. Normally she wasn't one to cuss, but sometimes some situations just warranted it more than all others. This happened to be one of them.

She sighed and shifted him off her enough so she could breathe, but he was still laying half on her. “So much for my first snog,” she muttered, wondering how much Harry had actually drunk. She looked over at his sleeping face on her shoulder and lovingly caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. Despite falling asleep in the midst of a passionate snog, she couldn't be mad at him. Hopefully there would be more snogs that lasted longer and more importantly when they were both sober.

At least I won't be serenaded to sleep by Ron and Luna, she thought just before her eyes drooped shut.

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4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ahem. Ok. Don't kill me . . . but I think this story's almost finished. Don't hurt me! *ducks* I started this with no direction really and no planned length, so when I realized that this seems almost finished I was just as surprised (and disappointed) as I'm sure you guys are. I'll try drawing it out within reason, but as of right now, I'd say there're two maybe three chapters left. As I've said before, I just don't do lengthy, drawn out, plot driven stories. Sorry!

I do want to thank everyone who reviewed!! I'm positively blown away by the amount of reviews this story (especially the last chapter) got! Even if I don't reply to every review, I do appreciate every single one. They are truly my addiction, especially since I've had to give up chocolate. *sob* To those who expressed concern over my health, thank you so very much! I'm feeling ten hundred times better and that's why this chapter is out much faster than my previous chapters.

Oh, and this is un-beta'd so all mistakes, crappy writing, and Americanisms are my own.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Harry woke he felt like Crookshanks had curled up in a little ball, and decided to take a cat nap in his mouth. But he felt warm and at that point that seemed to be all that really mattered.

He rubbed the grime out of his eyes, replacing his glasses as he did so. He was so comfortable, he didn't really want to move and dislodge the warmth covering his entire right side. Hm, that was weird. He turned his head and looked over at Hermione, half draped on top of him and still deeply asleep.

The two previous mornings they'd been up before Ron, so he hadn't known about their late night . . . rendezvous? Rendezvousi? Rendezvouses? Rendezvousees? What was the plural on that? He was tempted to wake Hermione up to ask her, but she looked too peaceful and too beautiful to disturb.

He lifted his hand and brushed a wayward lock of hair out of her face and back behind her ear. He remembered everything that had happened last night, as he hadn't been that drunk. He wondered if Hermione would. At that thought he was a bit scared that she would and a bit scared that she wouldn't.

What did this mean for them anyway? On one hand it seemed as though this . . . this was a long time in coming and yet it seemed so new, foreign and yet familiar. Harry stared up at the buttons and the design on the fabric on the mattress above him, confused for the most part, but a little scared and a whole lot excited.

Hermione stirred next to him, moaning softly in pain. She turned her head and burrowed her face into his shoulder. “What happened?” she murmured groggily.

“Well, you got drunk and decided to practice some of your moves in front of the boys,” Harry replied nonchalantly. “They all agreed that you're ritzy strip club material.”

Hermione lifted her head and looked up at him with wide horrified eyes before narrowing them and slapping him on the chest. “Funny, Potter.”

Harry grinned. “I thought so. Maybe I should be a comedian at your ritzy strip club.”

“Don't quit your day job.”

“I don't have one.”

“Well, when you do . . .” she trailed off before groaning again.

“Good morning!” one of the twins chirped happily.

There was a blinding flash of light and when Harry could see again he found Dean, Seamus, Fred and George smiling down at them from the opening of the fortress. Seamus was holding a camera in his hands.

“Sod off, we weren't doing anything illegal,” Harry shot back sitting up and crawling out of the fort with Hermione close behind.

“I wouldn't get Harry mad,” Neville spoke up from the table. Ginny was just waking from where she was curled up in one of the chairs. “I've seen him mad and it's downright scary.”

“Go pick on Ron and Luna, they were the ones making all the noise last night,” Harry grumped sitting on his bed and putting his head in his hands, his elbows propped on his knees. Hermione plopped next to him, rubbing her temple with a grimace.

A new light sparked in the twins' eyes that boded ill for Ron. “Oh really,” George grinned evilly eyeing the lumps on under Ron's blanket on his bed.

“Well, well,” Fred concurred with an identical expression.

“I think I threw them off our scent,” Harry whispered in Hermione's ear, a grin quirking at his lips with her tiny shudder.

“Not when that picture's developed,” Hermione whispered back causing a twin shiver to run down his spine.

“Bugger,” Harry muttered, not because he was ashamed to be seen with Hermione in a potentially compromising position, but he really didn't want to give the twins or any of the Weasley's fodder for teasing for the next decade or so.

Not that they really needed a photo for that anyway, but it certainly kept the memory fresh.

In the next bed over, Dean was gesturing for everyone to be quiet, gripping the top of the duvet. Seamus took aim with his camera and Dean yanked the duvet off. Sprawled on top of Ron, both half dressed, Luna blinked sleepily up at them. She yawned, stretched and smiled as if she hadn't a care in the world. “Good morning. Is there any coffee?” she asked.

Ron didn't even wake.

“Got it,” Seamus grinned, shrinking the camera to fit in his pocket.

A healer nudged open the double doors calling out, “Breakfast!” and pushed in a cart bearing enough trays for everyone. Ron started awake, blearily rubbing his eye. “What? Food?” he mumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry went to get the four of them trays. “Cover up Ron.”

Ron squeaked, fully awake now, and pulled up the blankets to cover his boxers then groaned in pain at the sudden motion. Luna grinned from next to him, fully comfortable wearing only Ron's shirt.

“How much did you have to drink last night?” Harry grinned handing Luna, Ron, and Hermione a tray.

“Too much,” Ron muttered, glancing over at Luna with a face as red as his hair. “Merlin, it hurts even to blush!”

“Wimp,” Hermione grinned. She glanced up at Ginny who walked between them and sat on the other side of Harry and pulled her legs up on the bed.

“I would tease you, but then I would have to acknowledge that my brother wasn't playing Exploding Snap under his blankets,” Ginny grinned at Ron.

Harry felt Hermione tense next to him and grow quiet and pensive while everyone, even Neville, took a crack at Ron. He looked over at her curiously and even though he knew she knew he was watching her, she refused to look up.

“The Healers here are not nice,” Seamus pouted returning to the group crowded on and around Harry and Ron's beds.

“Wouldn't give you a hangover potion?” Neville grinned. He was quite proud that he had matched the regular drinkers shot for shot and had been the only one to escape any symptoms of a hangover.

Seamus scowled. “Just because you of all people seem to have a hollow leg, doesn't mean we do.”

Neville coughed something that sounded a lot like “pansy” but before Seamus could cause any lasting damage, Fred pulled out an extra large sized bottle of hangover potion to dole out to anyone in need.

Harry handed Hermione the bottle without taking any, feeling fine other than some cotton mouth, but watched her wince when she drank it then sigh in relief before passing on the bottle. He was glad that it wasn't awkward between them, but he did need to know if she'd regretted anything last night and he suspected that he wasn't going to find out until later that night.

“Hermione, can I talk to you a second?” Ginny asked, wringing her hands nervously.

Hermione glanced over at Luna who looked glanced at the both of them with what looked like concern. “I already know,” she replied to Hermione's unspoken confusion.

“Er, yeah,” Hermione replied, standing and following Ginny over to the corner of the room.

“Oi! No secrets!” Fred called out.

“That's right! Whatever you have to say can be said in front of the whole class,” George seconded.

“I highly doubt you want to hear this,” Ginny replied. “We're only going to discuss hair, clothes, babies -“

“Periods, menopause -“ Hermione chimed in watching the boys pale with amusement.

“Cramps, giving birth -“

“Cleaning -“

“Ok, ok, alright!” Ron shouted his hands firmly clamped over his ears. “La la la! I can't hear you!”

“You two are vicious,” Harry tried to frown but couldn't quite hide a small chuckle. He watched his ex-girlfriend and his . . . er, friend with benefits? No, that sounded too flippant. Girlfriend? Was it too soon to call her that? Well, his . . . Hermione talking in low whispers made him distinctly nervous.

“YOU WHAT?!”

The boys, who had started talking about some of the twins' newest inventions while casting the occasional suspicious look at the two girls (and studiously ignoring Luna and Ron feeding each other), jerked their heads over to Hermione and Ginny. “Everything ok over there?” Dean asked.

“Er, yeah, sorry,” Hermione replied blushing. She took Ginny's arm and marched her further into the corner of the room. They were whispering furiously by this time, but much to everyone's dismay, the twins had neglected to bring any Extendable Ears. As one, they looked at each other then over to Luna who promptly shook her head.

“You'll find out soon enough, but I'd rather it didn't come from me,” she replied adamantly. “Besides, if you'd had any common sense you'd know that telling a secret only makes you vulnerable to a Korsnix and that never ends well now does it.”

Hermione and Ginny rejoined them shortly, all of them watching the pair oddly. Hermione had a troubled yet relieved expression while Ginny looked as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “Yes, well. Who's up for tea?” Hermione asked in a strangely chirpy voice that dared anyone refuse her tea.

Hermione and Ginny proved their stubbornness after ignoring nearly half an hour of unrelenting questioning and pestering. Harry knew that a battering ram on the main castle gates wasn't the way to get information from Hermione. She knew how to call out the troops and throw up the defenses. No, the real way to get past Hermione's guard was a subtle distraction, a sleight of hand that would have her letting down her guard in such a way that she wouldn't know what she was doing until the information was given and the damage was done.

He didn't have a chance to put his plan into action until that night after Ron was doing his finest lumberjack impression. Harry and Hermione stood in front of the fort shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, neither one daring to look at each other or the fort. Harry took a deep breath; Gryffindor courage and all that. “Well,” he whispered, “ladies first.”

Hermione looked up at him in surprise then a small relieved grin stole over her face. She ducked down and crawled inside. “Age before beauty,” he added crawling in beside her.

She laughed softly and thwomped him in the face with a pillow when he lay on his side next to her.

He turned his head and smiled at her, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

“Harry,” she whispered, turning on her side and shyly looking up at him through her lashes. “Do you -?”

“Yeah, I remember, do you?”

“Yeah,” she whispered back, looking down to where her hands picked at a piece of string on one of the blankets.

The silence grew long and awkward before Harry spoke up again. “I don't regret it, if that's what you're afraid of.”

Hermione shrugged a shoulder and looked up at him, meeting him eye to eye. “Sort of. I don't want to be girly about this, but . . . what does this mean now?”

Harry had a glib response on the tip of his tongue, but the vulnerability in her eyes and the seriousness of the conversation stayed the words. He didn't feel like saying them anyway and trying to inject levity into a conversation where none was needed or wanted, he knew, was a very bad idea. “Well, for one I'd like to kiss you again,” he whispered, subtly shifting closer to her. “Sober this time.”

“And for two?” she asked hopefully, also shifting closer to him, her eyes trained on his.

“I'd - I'd like to see where this goes,” he admitted honestly, his heart in his throat. “That is, if you want to?”

Hermione grinned softly, her eyes straying to his lips as his had been all day. “I'd like that. A lot. It scares me a bit to tell you the truth. It all seems a bit . . . ”

“Sudden. But it feels familiar, yeah.”

“So.”

Harry grinned and leaned forward those scant two inches and kissed her for real this time. He remembered the kiss tasting like butter beer last night, but tonight it tasted sweet and feminine and very lovely. He nipped softly at her lower lip to ask for entrance and groaned softly in the back of his throat as her tongue swept into his mouth. When she let out a small whimper it boosted his confidence to run his hand down her side to her hip. She slid her leg over his hip and had his eyes been open, they would've rolled back, but instead he moaned in response.

Hermione was the one who finally pulled away for air. “Merlin,” she muttered softly. “I'll take a sober snog over a drunken one any day. Not the least that you stayed awake this time.”

Harry blushed which she was very glad she couldn't see. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

She smiled in the dark and caressed his lips. “After that kiss, I've forgiven you.”

He lay on his back and she snuggled up close to him, kissing his neck as she got comfortable. “And I'm on to you Harry Potter,” she whispered seductively in his ear. “Don't even think that I'm going to give up Ginny's secret.”

“Bugger.”

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5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry this took a while to get out, but for some reason I could not get this one to come out as easily as the others and even still I'm kinda eh about it. I think this one might be the last actual chapter, but it depends on if I get an idea to draw out the story a bit more. There is an epilogue for sure. This chapter is un-beta'd so even though I went through it with a fine tooth comb, all mistakes and Americanisms are my own. Please feel free to point them out.

Hermione woke slowly, languidly stretched out next to Harry. She reached across his chest during her stretch and sighed, snuggling into his shoulder. She could get very used to this, if she wasn't already. Harry sighed against her cheek and turned his head toward her mumbling something about Ron eating all the cheese and croutons.

Hermione tilted her head up and watched Harry sleep. She reached up to brush his fringe away from his eyes, her hand trailing down his eyebrow, down around his cheek to his jaw, chin and throat. He had been so peaceful the last few nights, but she knew that it was a temporary lull. She wondered how long it would last.

Without warning, a shrill whistle startled everyone awake. Harry sat up in attack mode, hitting his head on the relatively soft “roof” of the fortress, knocking the mattresses off the bed and onto him and Hermione. Hermione let out a small shriek of surprise and Harry curse soundly when their little hidey hole collapsed around their ears.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Hermione heard Ron growl angrily from across the room.

“On three,” Harry murmured to Hermione. “One, two, three!” With a heave they shoved both mattresses off them and sat up, confused, disheveled and a bit grumpy.

All three teens looked over to the door with annoyed expressions. A young healer, not much older than them, stood by the door with an amused smirk. “Sorry. That was the Slytherin in me,” she said not sounding the least bit apologetic. “It's time for you to wake up anyway. You're being discharged in two hours, so get your arses moving.”

“Brilliant,” Ron growled flopping back on the bed with a sigh when the healer had left. “Hold on a tick.”

He sat up and took in the scene between Harry and Hermione with a confused and slightly something else expression. “How long has this been going on?” he asked quietly.

Harry and Hermione shared a wary glance. “Not to sound evasive, but how long has what been going on?” Hermione spoke up cautiously.

“You two, in the fort,” Ron replied gesturing at the collapsed structure.

“Um, a few nights?” Harry asked, edging closer to Hermione, looking as if he were going to duck behind her at any moment.

“How come I didn't know about this?”

“Well, you sleep like the dead,” Hermione replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you always sleep in so late so Harry and I always got up before you. We weren't keeping it from you on purpose,” Ok, that was a small fib, she thought to herself, “it just happened to never come up.”

“You weren't . . . you know . . .”

“Pulling a you and Luna?” Harry chuckled to which Ron flushed bright pink.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not that it's any of your business, but no. Well, except for last night. Oh and the night before, but that doesn't really count because Harry was really drunk and passed out mid-snog.”

“Oi!” Harry protested, looking over at her. “That was supposed to be a secret!”

Hermione smiled at Ron doubled over laughing then looked over at Harry. “By knocking you down a peg, Ron will feel better about this,” she whispered giving Harry an apologetic kiss.

Harry grumbled and groused under his breath, but it was good natured and Hermione loved him all the more for it. With that slightly terrifying thought she stood. “You two get packed. I'm going to take a shower,” she announced heading for the bathroom. “I saw that!” she called over her shoulder. She didn't have to turn around to see the exasperated and suffering look shared between her boys.

While showering and dressing, her thoughts slowly drifted from Harry and Ron to Ginny. How - ? She shook her head shutting off the shower. No, she'd better not ask `how.' `How' was irrelevant. As was `why' because if she were completely honest with herself she knew exactly why. `When' was probably a more relevant question. Ok and `how' would be too if nothing more than to satisfy her curiosity.

Hermione shook her thoughts away again and finished brushing her teeth and dressing. When she stepped out, she sighed and rolled her eyes. Neither Ron nor Harry had even attempted to look like they'd started packing. They were, instead, playing a game of Wizard's Chutes and Ladders. Time to bring out the big guns.

“Harry, Ron,” she called out sweetly, neatly folding her clothes and stowing them away in her trunk.

She caught them looking apprehensively at each other before looking over at her. “Yes?” Harry asked warily. They both knew that tone of voice.

“You do realize that we've been here for quite a few days and not everything is where it's supposed to be correct?” Hermione smirked, continuing with her packing.

“Er . . .” Ron mumbled. “What d'you mean?”

“Well, just the other day I saw someone's very cute teddy bear boxers lying around where a very sweet Slytherin healer might be able to find them,” Hermione said keeping up the saccharine voice. She glanced over at them to gauge their reactions. Harry was flushed and Ron's shoulders were trembling with laughter. “And just yesterday I saw someone's autographed Celestina Warbeck album conveniently hidden nearby where the same healer could find that record.”

The tips of Ron's ears turned a startling shade of fuchsia that clashed with his hair. “All right, all right, we'll get packing,” he grumbled, dumping the game pieces and board into the box and packing it away.

“It's going to feel weird leaving,” Harry said sitting on his bed an hour and a half later freshly showered and newly packed (especially the boxers).

“I don't want to live at the Burrow any more. Is that horrible of me?” Ron asked looking up from where he was picking at the blanket he was sitting cross legged on.

“No, I don't want to live at home either,” Hermione murmured from behind Harry. She leaned forward and rested her forehead on his back.

Harry cracked a grin, or at least it felt like it from where Hermione was sitting. “We've talked about everything else except two things; that last day and this. We probably should've talked about this huh?”

“Do you want to live in Grimmauld?” Ron asked.

Harry sighed. “Not particularly, but it'd be a good place to start until we can find somewhere better.”

“Potter, Granger, Weasley,” the young healer walked in holding three clipboards. “Just sign here and you'll be on your way. Your father is here to pick all of you up,” she said nodding at Ron.

Harry, Hermione and Ron scribbled their signatures on the parchment which rolled up and winked out of sight. “Enjoy your freedom,” the healer grinned and left.

“That sounded ominous,” Hermione murmured watching her leave.

They shrunk their belongings and stowed them away in their school bags before walking out into the hallway. Hermione felt Harry tense next to her. She half expected the healers to be lined up to cheer them away like in some cheesy Muggle movie where they'd all walk in slow motion, acknowledging the crowd with embarrassed grins and hand waves, but thankfully that did not happen. The floor was too busy and they were only acknowledged by the healers they'd seen regularly. “'Bye! We'll miss you! Good luck!” accompanied with smiles and waves were the only acknowledgments they received and all three of them relaxed.

“You've got all your things?” Mr. Weasley greeted them to which they nodded. “Then let's get back. Molly's been cooking up a storm since yesterday and she's anxious to fuss over you.”

Ron rolled his eyes and sighed. “So it begins,” he muttered following his father to the apparition point on that floor.

“Have the crowds gone away?” Harry asked.

“Enough,” Mr. Weasley replied evasively. “Not completely, but they were able to open up the apparition points and take down some of the extra wards.”

The Burrow was exploding with people, smells, and sounds when they arrived just beyond the wards at the end of the drive. Hermione took in the familiar sights and let the comfort seep into her. On one hand it felt really good to be back, almost as good to be out of the ward, but on the other hand she knew that feeling would dissipate within a few days.

Within moments they were enveloped in a sea of red. It felt like a couple of days before when the Weasleys and Order members had visited them, except sunnier and with greater opportunities. After everyone had bestowed their handshakes and hugs, the crowd all but carried them into the garden. Luna approached them, having hung back until the crowd had dissipated, and gave Ron a very enthusiastic kiss hello which gave the twins and Charlie fodder for the rest of the afternoon.

Hermione stuck close to Harry or perhaps Harry stuck close to her, she couldn't really tell, but she got a small thrill that neither seemed very willing to leave each other's side for very long. After about an hour of chatting with Tonks, Bill, and Remus, Hermione finally noticed the one red head she really wanted to talk to missing. “Fred, where's Ginny?” she asked, interrupting a Quidditch “conversation” (really it was more of a “my team's better than your team” boasting) he was having with Ron and Harry.

“She said she'd be here - spoke too soon. There she is,” Fred replied nodding toward the garden gate.

Ginny was facing away from the garden, her hands on her hips, her foot tapping in annoyance at something - or more like someone - just on the other side of the house out of sight.

Hermione grinned and gripped Harry's upper arm. “Harry,” she whispered. “Be sure to hold onto Ron ok?”

“Why?” he whispered back, watching Ginny cross her arms over her chest impatiently.

“You'll see.”

Ginny stepped out of sight around the corner of the house, but returned shortly holding onto a disembodied arm whose body seemed reluctant to come into view. A game of tug-of-war seemed to break out between her and the arm until finally she dragged a morose and pouty looking Draco Malfoy into view.

Hermione sensed Ron tense up on the other side of Harry. She watched his eyes narrow, a lion focusing in on its prey. “Harry,” Hermione warned fractions of a second before Ron launched himself off the picnic bench and toward Draco.

Ginny stepped in front of Draco and Harry ran in front of Ron, pushing him back with all his strength. “Ron! No!” Harry growled, bracing a leg behind him and shoving against Ron's chest with all his strength just as Hermione joined them. “Remember the raid!”

Hermione watched Ginny frown and look over at Draco who at least looked a bit sheepish as well as surly. Ron's eyes flickered down to Harry and he stopped advancing toward Draco. “He's still a git, but he did sacrifice a lot for us. And for her,” Hermione murmured, laying a calming hand on Ron's shoulder.

Ron shrugged off her hand and turned away, before abruptly turning back. “One tear,” he growled, pointing a finger in Draco's face. “One single tear and your arse is mine.” Satisfied with that threat, he turned and headed back into the garden and toward Luna.

Harry sighed next to Hermione. “He's going to hate us for a while.”

“No, not hate,” Hermione replied taking his hand. “Greatly annoyed, but he'll get over it.”

“Thank you,” Ginny murmured from behind them.

“I didn't know Ron swung that way,” Draco mused with a smirk.

“Draco, don't be a prat. Come on, I'm hungry and my brothers are eating all the food,” Ginny said taking Draco's arm and half dragging him toward the table where the food was laid out.

Harry sighed and glanced over at Hermione. She knew exactly what he was thinking and smiled back. “Yeah, I know. Good to be home right?”

Harry chuckled while wrapping an arm around her waist. “How much you want to bet Ron and Luna are married by this time next year?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “No bet. Too easy. Now Draco and Ginny . . . ten galleons.”

“You're on.” He dropped a kiss to her temple and guided them to where Ron and Luna were sitting.

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6. Epilogue

A/N: Over a hundred reviews for five chapters?! I'm flabbergasted! Honestly, I had no idea that this little thing would get such a response. And I thank you. I thank so very very much the reviewers and also just to anyone who read and liked this little fic. If this brightened up your day, then I consider it a job well done.

With that said, this is the final chapter. I thought about extending it just a bit, but the more I thought about it, the more it didn't fit so I decided to end it here. Hopefully this last chapter will connect everything in a satisfying way. I had fun, I hope you did too.

This is un-beta'd (my beta's gone MIA, I hope she's ok) so all mistakes, blah blah blah.

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Almost Five Years Later

“Harry!”

“I'm in the kitchen!”

Hermione came running into the kitchen from the door in time to watch Harry kick the stove he'd been bemoaning since their move six months earlier. “Stupid bloody piece of shi - hi, love!” Harry turned with such a guilty look Hermione almost reached out and kissed him.

“Harry, the love of my life, the reason I live, I kind of um, indulged a bit,” Hermione said with an excited glint in her eye and a nervous smile.

“Indulged,” Harry repeated slowly, leaning against the stove he'd been trying to fix. “Define `indulged.'”

Hermione bit her lower lip and wrung her hands. “Weeell, it's probably better if you saw her than if I tried to explain.”

“Somehow I think you're still going to need to explain,” he replied pushing away from the stove and gesturing for her to lead the way.

She took his hand and led him outside and down the stoop, stopping next to a brand new sleek black Porsche. “Indulged,” Hermione stated again, hooking her arm with Harry's and looking up at him anxiously.

“Um, I was right. You will have to explain,” he said running a hand over the cool contours of the roof.

“I was walking past that new dealership a few blocks down,” Hermione started. Harry nodded to indicate he knew which one she was talking about. “When I saw her I really wanted her. And then when I got in her and drove round a bit, it was like I'd fallen in love again.”

Harry frowned at this. “You're leaving me for a bloody car?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don't be silly. But remember when you got your Firebolt? Remember how shiny and new and fast it went and it was the greatest sensation in the whole world when you rode it?”

Harry's eyes went unfocused as she lost him in his memories. “Yeah,” he sighed.

“Well, that's how I feel about my Porsche.”

Harry nodded in understanding, still looking over the car.

“Are - are you ok with it?” Hermione asked hesitantly, sliding her hand down to his hand and holding it tightly.

Harry grinned lopsidedly and nodded. “Yeah, I'm ok with it. I'm just a bit shell shocked that my lovely bookish girlfriend would have a secret speed demon lurking within her.”

Hermione chuckled softly with relief, pressing her face into his upper arm near his shoulder.

“After all, we're allowed a splurge or two right?” Harry went on with a grin.

Hermione stepped back with a raised eyebrow. “Don't tell me you got something too.”

“No, not yet anyway,” Harry replied vaguely, his eyes distant with thought. He was already dreaming of a new stove. Oh what he couldn't do with a new stove and Hermione had just presented the perfect excuse to get one too.

Hermione, however, pursed her lips. She didn't like the sound of that, but honestly what could she do? It'd be utterly hypocritical of her to protest Harry's splurge when he gave in so easily and graciously to hers.

“So are you going to let me drive it?” he asked, pulling himself out of his thoughts and steering her back inside.

“Do you know how to drive a car?”

“Well . . . I was hoping you'd teach me.”

Hermione snorted. “I'd rather think not. Not in my car. Besides, that just spells disaster and possible grounds for a break up.”

Harry grinned knowingly. “You'll come around.”

“I'll let you keep thinking that,” she said, patting his back as she headed to the bedroom. She glanced at the piece of preserved parchment sticky charmed to the door and grinned. It was a few years old and was barely legible with all the crossed out and cramped writing but it never failed to elicit a fond grin from her or Harry. Shortly after their move, Ron had placed it on the bedroom door with a smirk announcing that Hermione had finally found her ritzy strip club. “Don't forget,” she called out jerking her thoughts back to present, “we need to be at the Burrow by two. What time is it now?”

Harry glanced at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace and winced. “Um, two?”

Hermione flew back into the living room, her eyes wide. “What?! Is it that late?!”

“Yes?”

“Bugger! Are you ready?”

Harry glanced down. He had on relatively clean jeans, a clean t-shirt, an unstained jumper and decent trainers and his wand was in his back pocket. “It appears so. Are you?”

Hermione looked torn. She really wanted to take a shower and wear her new dress, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen. “Yeah, let's go,” she sighed.

They Floo'd over only to be accosted with the sights and sounds of the Burrow in full swing. “Oi! About time you made it!” Ron greeted them, a teasing glint in his eye.

“It's her fault this time,” Harry ratted immediately.

“Oh fine boyfriend you are!” Hermione huffed, but it was without rancor. They followed Ron into the den where everyone was gathered.

“She bought a Porsche,” Harry explained sitting on the couch with Hermione and Ron.

Ron frowned thoughtfully. “Where would you keep it in London?”

Hermione and Harry exchanged confused glances. “On the curb where it's supposed to be,” she replied.

“Isn't that a little cruel, Hermione?” Ron asked taking on a know-it-all tone and air.

“Ron, what're you talking about?” Harry asked looking over Hermione to his best mate.

“Isn't a Porsche a type of horse?”

Harry and Hermione laughed. “No! It's a car silly,” Hermione gasped between giggles.

“Then why didn't you say so!” Ron sighed rolling his eyes. “Luna love, join us!”

Luna walked over from talking to Ginny and sat on Ron's lap. “Harry, Hermione,” she smiled at them. “I feel it is my duty to warn you.”

Harry glanced at Hermione when Luna didn't continue but stared off into space with a vague smile. “Yes?” Harry asked.

Luna visibly started, glancing around then back to her husband and his friends. “Yes?”

“You were warning them about something, love,” Ron replied grinning up at his wife.

“Ah. Yes. Molly has gone an entire year without marrying anyone,” Luna's dreamy eyes became focused and she looked significantly at them. “I just thought you should know.”

Harry and Hermione sighed softly. Immediately following the war they and Ron had moved into Grimmauld Place while they adjusted to the media attention and their new lives outside Hogwarts and Voldemort's threat. A year after their move, Ron and Luna married, but had decided to stay at Grimmauld until they could find a place to call their own. That took another two years in which they saved until they could buy a house on the outskirts of London where they were close enough to the city they'd grown to love yet far enough for to enjoy the country life they'd grown up with. In those two years Ginny and Draco had married, effectively making Hermione ten galleons richer, and after that it seemed there had been one wedding among the brothers since. Fred was the last to marry the previous fall. And while Molly hadn't given up on Charlie who seemed happy in his bachelorhood, with Luna's announcement it seemed as though she had her eye set on her adopted children.

Hermione knew they were going to get married sometime soon; they had talked briefly about it before finally moving out of Grimmauld and into their flat. But Harry still had frequent nightmares and Hermione was still dealing with her own traumas inflicted by the war. They had both agreed they weren't ready for the pressures of a wedding and then the pressures of building a family quite yet.

Molly Weasley on the other hand was the type who didn't take no easily.

“Thanks for the heads up Luna,” Harry grinned up at her.

The younger witch nodded with a sympathetic smile.

“Dinner's served!” Molly called out.

“Blimey, it's about time!” Ron muttered jumping up and practically dumping Luna on her arse. Luna, having learned to be quick on her feet, leapt up with such a fluid and practiced move that it looked as though she had floated momentarily before she righted herself. Nonplussed, she followed Ron into the dining room with the enlarged table, Harry and Hermione on her heels.

“Draco!” Harry smiled sitting next to the uncomfortable looking Slytherin. “Is that -“ Harry squinted and leaned closer to which Draco leaned away. “Is that actual pigment in your skin?” He gasped dramatically. “You have a tan!”

“Sod off, Potter,” Draco grumbled, glancing nervously over at Ginny then over at the Weasley brothers.

“Well that wasn't much fun,” Harry grumbled under his breath.

Hermione consoled him with a pat on his knee. “Maybe later, dear,” she murmured in his ear.

Ginny stood once everyone had found their seats and cleared her throat. “Everyone, I have an announcement.”

“You're getting a divorce!” Ron blurted out.

Ginny and Draco glared at him and the long arm of the law reached past Fred and Angelina to smack Ron on the back of the head. “Go ahead dear,” Molly spoke up with an encouraging smile as she settled back in her chair.

Ginny frowned at Ron before clearing her throat again. “Thank you, mum. Draco and I just wanted to announce that I'm pregnant!”

Ron's agonized drawn out groan was heard clearly over the cheers and congratulations of the other Weasley's. Ron slumped so far in his seat in his pout that he was danger of falling off his chair and not even Luna's comfort seemed to help much.

Molly leapt up from her seat to give enthusiastic hugs to Draco and Ginny. Harry gulped at the appraising look Molly was giving him over Draco's shoulder as she hugged her son-in-law.

“Now she's really going to go all out,” Harry whispered.

“Maybe, but maybe she'll be too distracted with Ginny to worry about us,” Hermione whispered back.

“Did you just see that look? There's no way we're escaping her radar,” Harry murmured. “Although . . .” he turned on his seat with his own speculative look.

“What?” Hermione asked warily.

“If you teach me to drive, that might help.”

Hermione snorted and grabbed the bowl of mashed potatoes in front of her. “I see absolutely no correlation, but regardless, the answer's still no.”

She'll come around, Harry thought to himself as he served himself a dollop of potatoes and passed it on to Draco who, Harry noted, seemed far less nervous now that he knew he was actually going to survive to see his next meal. She always comes around.

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