Bearings
Disclaimer/Author's Notes: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.
How do you feel? That is the question
But I forget…you don't expect an easy answer
When something like a soul becomes
Initialized and folded up like paper dolls and little notes
You can't expect a bit of hope
And while you're outside looking in
Describing what you see
Remember what you're staring at is me
Stone Sour
Through Glass
Chapter Eleven: The Six
Wednesday, May 22nd, 2002
Cruising along in the speedboat at two hundred kilometers an hour had skewed Hermione's perception of the true size of the lake, and now that she was jogging along the western shore with Harry, she understood that fact. As they ran easily northward, strides matching, with the early evening sun casting longish shadows to their right, Hermione considered the length of sandy shore as it spread out in front of her.
It seemed to stretch into infinity, meeting the horizon at some hazy dark blue and green point far in the distance. As they slowly passed the Manor on their left, cast in shadow for one brief moment by the peak of the house, Hermione truly appreciated the beauty of the property, and not for the first time. The air was a bit cool, but they were running, so Harry had opted for just short shorts and Hermione wore similar bottoms and a sports bra on top. They'd been running for about thirty minutes-Hermione hadn't wanted to, but Harry'd said he wanted to stay in some kind of shape-and she was winded.
"Harry," she panted slightly. "Can we stop soon?" They ran in silence for at least a minute before he responded. She looked to the side several times, but he was just staring straight ahead with an impassive look spread over his handsome features.
"Ten more minutes?" he asked, glancing toward her. He was smiling slightly, as if he understood her pain but really did want her to join him for the last little bit.
"Oh, I suppose," she huffed. "Don't forget the others are coming over soon…" She trailed off, and the only sound that reached her ears for the next two minutes was a soft shirring noise, a combination of their feet hitting the grassy edge of the beach and the light breeze unfurling its ghostly tendrils across the property.
"Been a hell of a few days, eh?" Harry asked.
"Sure has," Hermione agreed, squinting against the glare as they turned away from the lake, toward the sun.
"And…and it's only going to get more insane," Harry said, though he sounded like he was thinking about something, not really sure what he was saying.
"Yeah…" Hermione agreed again. She would have to go back to work soon; her new position as Chair of the Muggle Liaisons office was there, ready for her to step into. And yet, even though she had worked so hard for so long for it, she almost didn't want her little holiday to end. June first would bring with it her new career, true, but it would also bring the end to her purely leisure time with Harry, during which they had reconnected and formed some kind of relationship.
With the impending meeting with Yankees, in just two days, Hermione was unsure what the future looked like. She didn't want to think about how complicated things would get if Harry took the position on the team; she knew that she would have to be with him, wherever he went, though. His long distance Apparition could make things easier…
"Is your agent just going to meet you in New York?" Hermione asked, broaching a subject she did not necessarily want to, but feeling like she needed to be informed anyway.
"Guess so," Harry replied, and not for the first time she heard something like reluctance in his voice as he talked about the Yankees. "The meeting is at the Stadium in the General Manager's office at eight o'clock New York time."
"So we'd have to leave…?"
"I figure we'd Apparate over to Newark around 11:30 or 12 our time," he replied. They were nearing the rear entrance to the Manor, off the dining area and kitchen, and they slowed a bit. Hermione inhaled deeply as her footfalls eased up into a very light jog. The air was ripe with the scent of summer grass and fresh, cool water.
"Sounds good," she said, coming to a full stop. Harry came to rest several paces in front of her. She put her hands behind her head, drawing oxygen into her body, and watched Harry's sweaty body glisten in the evening sun. He didn't seem to be breathing hard, at all.
He turned to her in profile was silhouetted against the sky for a moment, cutting an impressive image. Hermione's objective analysis cited his rakish hair, sharp jaw line, nicely formed muscles, and cool air of power as attractive, and her pulse quickened as, biologically, she responded to the image in front of her. Evidence of said response could clearly be seen poking against the light fabric of her sports bra. She didn't care, though.
"That was fun," Harry said; he turned toward her completely and smiled. She saw his eyes cut to her chest for a moment, and hid the smirk that wanted to crawl across her lips. Men were so predictable.
"If you say so," she said, mock annoyance coloring her tone, and then grinned back at him. "Seriously, though, I'm bollocks at running. Out of shape, you know," she commented.
"Then I should get you in shape."
"You?" she asked, pushing a hand against her hip and cocking her head at him. "And how are you going to get me in shape, Harry?"
His eyes flicked to her chest again, where she could now definitely feel her nipples pressing against her top.
"I could think of a few ways…"
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
He laughed. "You needn't worry about that," he informed her, and then was suddenly standing right in front of her. She hadn't even sensed his Apparition, nor had it seemed like it even occurred.
He wrapped his arms her, and she quivered slightly at the skin-to-skin contact. Goosebumps not of the temperature flew out across her arms and back, and she felt Harry chuckle against her. He stepped back two paces.
"Tease," she pouted.
He shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"Harry…"
"What?"
She paused, unsure of what she had been about to say. Well, not unsure, just hesitant. She wondered how he would respond to it.
"I've been thinking-"
"Shocker!" he interjected.
"Quiet." She locked eyes with Harry. "I've been thinking about living arrangements these past few days, and I've only just realized I'm twenty-two and still living with my parents."
"Go on…" he prompted. She wondered if he knew where this was heading.
"Well, we have something…good between us, right?" Hermione dropped her eyes for a moment, and then looked back up, to find him right in front of her again. He cupped a cheek in his hand.
"Something very good," he said, quietly. His shockingly green eyes were boring directly into hers. She thought she might have been able to see his pupils moving with his heartbeat.
"What do you think about me-"
"Moving in?" he asked. "I've love for you to."
"Really?" she asked. For some reason, she could hardly believe it. That would definitely make this burgeoning love-on her end, at least-between them seem more real.
"Of course," he said. "Hermione, I already gave you full access to this entire property, and you've spent more time here since we got back than at your house. It's the next logical step."
She threw her arms around him and laughed. "Listen to you, talking to me about what's logical." She hugged him for a second longer, and then released him, to stare into his eyes again.
"Let's get past Friday, and then we can think about that more?" she asked, hoping the pang of apprehension she felt at thinking about the Yankees didn't creep into her voice. Harry smiled brightly at her.
"Sure thing." He turned slightly, slipping his arm around her back, and they started to walk toward the sliding glass door. It opened as they approached and they passed through it into the interior of the Manor. The left side of the kitchen flared with light as the evening sun shone brightly in through the westward windows, illuminating every edge and corner in sharp contrast. Hermione could see small motes of dust floating through the golden rays.
They passed in silence through the kitchen and on into the parlor beyond. Someone whistled from the direction of the west wall. They both stopped and turned to look toward the two portraits hanging there. Lily and James were reclining on a sofa in their portrait, looking amusedly down at Harry and Hermione, and Sirius was waggling his eyebrows toward them.
"Yes?" Hermione asked. She smirked at Sirius.
Two days before, on Monday, she had sat down with Harry in front of the portraits as he had told them everything that had happened in his life. It had taken most of the day, since he'd had to start from as early as he could remember for his parents, and she'd even seen a tear or two trail down his face, but it was an oddly cathartic experience, for both of them.
In telling his parents the entire history of his life, Harry'd said he'd been able to step back and look at all that he'd done and accomplished more objectively than he ever had before. And while he was still modest and humble to a fault, Hermione could tell that he was now able to appreciate the full weight of what he'd done a little better.
For Hermione, it had been cleansing because not only had it filled in all of the missing gaps in Harry's life for her, but it also meant that he trusted her enough and-she thought-loved her enough to let her in on all of his troubled times. The hardest part for her and, she saw, for his parents and Sirius was when Harry told of the true extent of the Dursleys' neglect. They had never overtly abused him, as far as he could remember, but what they had done was definitely criminal neglect and endangerment of the welfare of a child, according to the Muggle laws.
Hermione had wanted to at least bring it to the attention of the Surrey police, but Harry had adamantly refused to let her. He had said that the Dursleys were in his past and he never wanted to see them again, and if that meant letting them get away with what they had done, he was fine with that.
She had left it at that, and had only said a few more words as he'd continued to tell his tale. She knew it was enough to fill several books, and that many of his and their adventures were so fantastical no one would believe them as true; she smiled when he recounted the tale of how she had led Dolores Umbridge to the centaurs, even though she remembered how terrified she'd been when the centaurs had turned on them. She cringed when Harry told of their sixth year, and all the turmoil that had been present, but felt triumphant as he told the tale of their seventh year and how they had all banded together to defeat Voldemort once and for all.
Sirius and the Potters listened with rapt attention as Harry told them the story, asking only a few questions-the most pressing one was why he had gone to America for four years. Harry had just shrugged and told them he'd wanted some direction in his life. When they asked him if he found it, he'd glanced at her and said he thought so. A warm feeling had spread through her at that simple look and statement.
"Looking good, you two," Sirius said, flashing them a double thumbs up; his voice brought her back to the present. Harry nodded at him, chuckling a bit, and glanced at Hermione. She smiled back.
"What were you doing?" James asked. He was still curled up with Lily on the couch.
"Jogging," Harry answered.
"Jogging?" Lily asked, her eyebrow arched. "Do most magical folk exercise now?"
Hermione shook her head and answered: "Not really, Lily. In fact, most wouldn't know what to do if you handed them a hand weight. Harry dragged me out jogging, though, because he wants to stay in shape."
"For what?" Sirius asked, quite clearly eyeing Harry's toned body and Hermione's many curves. It wasn't a lascivious gaze, though-merely a curious one.
She felt Harry hesitate. He hadn't told them of his upcoming meeting with the Yankees and the decision that would follow; in fact, she didn't think he'd told anyone except for her, and she honestly didn't know if he would have if she hadn't overheard it the day of his graduation.
"Just because," Harry answered, and at Sirius's harrumph, he added, "You don't have to be jealous."
"Jealous? Me? Of you?" Sirius asked, mock incredulity in his voice. Harry shrugged.
"I bet he's jealous of that fine lady on your arm, Harry," Lily cut in, looking toward the edge of her portrait where she must have been able see Sirius in his. He looked over at her and crossed his arms.
Hermione just about glowed at Lily's compliment and tacit approval, but didn't say anything. She could already hear an argument reminiscent of herself and Ron heating up between Lily and Sirius, which was only exacerbated by Sirius calling her `Lils', and chuckled at James's look of resignation. She and Harry waved, which only James saw, and turned to leave the room. Once they'd exited into the voluminous foyer, they looked at each other and laughed again.
"You know who they remind me of, don't you?" Harry asked. There was a powerfully nostalgic look in his eyes.
"Yes," she nodded. "The three of us." And they both knew exactly what she was talking about: the original Golden Trio-Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Without Remus, the three in the portraits had very similar dynamics to the Trio's.
Suddenly, Hermione caught sight of something on Harry's right ring finger that she hadn't noticed before. She grabbed his hand and pulled it close to her face so she could examine the items. Two simple yet elegant rings adorned his finger, one gold with a ruby and the other silver with an amethyst. She didn't know where he'd gotten them from or why she hadn't noticed them before.
"Harry, what are these?"
"The Potter and Black family rings," he supplied, looking at her oddly. "Have you never seen these before?" She looked at him strangely; surely her reaction was answer enough for that question.
"That's odd. I've had them on since I went to Gringotts the day we arrived."
"These signify your lordship over the Potter and Black families, right?" she queried, some tidbit of knowledge surfacing in her brain. He nodded.
"Yes, and they allow me access to all of the properties in each family."
"Ok…" Hermione said, thinking. "Ok… So all of the properties are probably Unplottable, which means that the rings seal the enchantment."
"How so?" Harry asked. He was looking at her with something akin to wonder, as he often did when she was talking about something he did not know of.
"They give you access to Unplottable properties, so the enchantments would have had to use the rings as their anchors. Making something Unplottable is a bit different than a Fidelius, in that someone can still come across the property if they walk up to it. Unplottability just ensures that it can't be found on a map or pinpointed with exact coordinates. A Fidelius actually hides knowledge of the existence of a place or thing.
"So, anyways, since you gave me full access to this house, and told me it would be all right if I moved in, the enchantment must have decided that was enough for me to see the rings."
Harry was silent for a moment, considering everything that Hermione had told him. She was glad there was no look of perplexity on his face; she had always known Harry was brilliant, maybe as brilliant as her, but he just hadn't applied himself before their seventh year.
"So the rings are hidden from view because they anchor the Unplottable charms."
"Yes."
"Wouldn't there have to be some kind of Fidelius to do that, though, at least on the rings?"
Hermione cocked her head to the side, considering his question. She hadn't thought about that facet-if the rings themselves had been hidden from her, that would seem to imply a Fidelius on the rings themselves…but that didn't explain why they'd just shown up, without him telling her about them.
"I don't really know about that," she said, and she was surprised that she didn't feel disappointment at being unable to answer his question. He had raised an interesting and thoughtful point, one that she would have to research if they really did want the answer, and she wasn't ashamed that she didn't know the right one.
"Could be some sort of modified Fidelius," she said, shrugging slightly. He nodded, totally accepting of her assumption, and the grinned at her. It was disarming, his lop-sided grin, and she found herself grinning back.
"What, Potter?"
"We're both sweaty," he said.
"Yeah…"
"And the four others are coming soon. Can't be smelling like rubbish when they get here."
"Just what are you suggesting, Harry?"
"Fancy a shower?" he asked, still grinning.
"What, with you?"
Both of his eyebrows rose toward his hairline.
"I dunno…" she trailed off, already thinking of a wet and naked Harry Potter.
"Your loss," he commented, and she felt the magic coalesce in the air as he prepared to Disapparate, presumably into the shower. Thinking quickly, she grabbed his arm, and her vision grayed for a second as the feeling of Apparition washed over her. Sure enough, when the world righted itself, she was standing in the middle of the large loo, still holding on to Harry's arm.
"Care to join me, Miss Granger?" Harry asked, as he started toward the walk-in shower. The running shorts dropped as he went; he stopped and looked over his shoulder when he reached the edge of the shower. Her eyes were drawn toward his bum…
"Um," she articulated, looking at his face again. He was smiling mischievously at her. She nodded and rushed forward. She saw his hand twitch in her direction and suddenly she was naked. She didn't care. She rushed past him into the large shower and turned on the water, standing back a little as it adjusted to the right temperature.
She felt Harry come up behind her, pressing against her back and wrapping his arms around her, just below her chest. She fought a moan as she felt his still-flaccid member pressing against her bum. His strong arms held her tighter for a second, and then pushed them both forward under the warm stream of water.
"You know what I would like to do to you right now," he whispered in her ear, and she shivered uncontrollably at the lust dripping in his voice. Whatever it was, she would let him. She wanted him right here in the shower, up against the wall if need be. Harry had the amazing ability to ignite a fire inside her she hadn't known existed until recently, and this close contact of wet and naked bodies was fanning those flames rapidly. The water was splashing against her upper body, and then trailing down her skin toward the tiled floor, adding to the wetness below her waist.
"But," he said, stepping back from her, "we are going to have company very soon. We don't really have time right now." She could hear the real note of sadness in his voice, but knew he was right. That didn't mean she wasn't frustrated, though.
"You tease," she growled, and turned, the water hitting her back now. She saw his eyes sweep over her chest and then lower, and once again back to her face. The look in his eyes wasn't doing anything to calm her, nor was the not-so-flaccid state of his member.
"Ignore that," he said, must having noticed where her eyes were. He took some body wash from the little alcove in the wall, squirted a dollop into his hands, and approached her again.
"Want me to wash your back?" he asked. She turned, presenting her back and buns to him. She could feel his eyes on her round, tanned cheeks.
"Yes please," she affirmed. She pressed back into his strong hands as they began their ministrations over the long expanse of skin between her neck and her bum.
----------
Hermione and Harry were standing by the gate of the Manor, which was open, waiting for the other four to arrive. The late evening light was just starting to dim, but would still be bright enough for another hour for the little excursion out on the lake Harry wanted to take the six of them on.
Hermione had been with Harry when he'd told Ron and Luna, and then later on Ginny and Neville, the coordinates of the edge of the property when he'd invited them. They were due to Apparate in any moment now.
As she leaned against him in the cool silence, she could still feel his hands as they'd worked their magic on her up in the shower, but he'd never fully touched her; he'd even gone so far as to laugh when she'd pouted at him. But…it had also been oddly satisfying, exploring each other's bodies without fully committing to the act. Bringing each other to some sort of edge and then retreating back from it-all with the warm water pounding down on their skin.
So it was with contentment that she greeted the first telltale signs of Apparition, which were two cracks as Ron and Luna appeared before them. Ron was dressed casually in slacks and a shirt-he seemed to have picked up some Muggle dressing habits over the past few years-and Luna wore a white summer dress, almost matching Hermione's beige one.
"Hey," Hermione greeted.
"Hello, Hermione and Harry," Luna said, and moved forward toward them. Ron and Harry looked at each for a moment.
"How are ya, mate?" Ron asked, and Harry smiled at his red-haired friend.
"Doing well," Harry replied, and returned Luna's hug.
The blond had a similar embrace for Hermione, during which Luna whispered, "You must tell me later why you're so satisfied right now." Luna locked eyes with her, a knowing light in her pale gaze. Hermione nodded slightly.
"So you Keep for the Wasps and you're a reporter for The Quibbler," Harry said, looking at Ron and Luna. They both nodded, and almost as one their eyes turned toward the Manor.
"You have a lovely house," Luna commented. Ron's comment was a little more colorful.
"Merlin, it's a bloody mansion. Although you were always filthy sodding rich," Ron said, chuckling as he looked at the structure.
"You're both doing very well for yourselves," Hermione put in, hoping to deflect the conversation away from Harry's money and fame, at least for the moment. He glanced a silent thank you in her direction.
"That we are, Hermione," Ron said. "I haven't lost a regular season game in ages and Luna's turned her father's rag around, so no complaints here." Hermione already knew that information, but she knew Ron was saying it for Harry's benefit.
"Daddy thinks he might have found proof of the Snorkack's existence," Luna commented, still looking at the house. Hermione looked to Ron and Harry, who were smiling slightly. Luna had stopped reporting on sensationalist rubbish, but she still liked to talk about it occasionally. And who knew, maybe the Snorkack actually did exist?
Just then, two more cracks rent the evening air, one slightly quieter than the previous two and the other slightly louder. The four of them turned to see Neville and Ginny standing there. Harry swept forward.
"Welcome to my humble abode, Mister Longbottom and Miss Weasley," he said, bowing low in front of them. His theatrics went a long way toward breaking the ice, because Ginny stepped forward and hugged him. When she stepped back, he shook hands with Neville.
"Humble abode my arse," Ginny said when she caught sight of the Manor. "It's a bloody castle."
Harry laughed out loud. "You're more like your brother than you know," he said, and watched as Ginny made a face at Ron, who just shrugged.
Hermione looked around at the six of them, all gathered again in one place, excepting the night at the Burrow, for the first time since the Christmas of 2000. Subtle changes had occurred since then, changes that could mostly be attributed to becoming adults in the psychological sense. They were neither children nor young adults anymore. They were grown people, each with their own lives and relationships and histories-histories that had been diverging since Voldemort's demise. Maybe now, maybe after four years of personal growth, they could get back some of their old ties and find that ease with which they'd had with each other.
Maybe, but then again a lot of that probably hinged upon whether or not Harry decided to play for the Yankees. She didn't know how that would change things, and preferred not to think about it, but Hermione knew that the time for deciding was nigh upon them. She had only two more days of reprieve, and then it would be on them. She was dreading it. She didn't want the fairy tale of the last three weeks to end.
"Well," Harry said, "how about we head on over toward the lake."
"Lake?" Neville asked. He looked around, and caught sight of the dark waters off to the east. "Oh."
"And that's a pitch over there, isn't it?" Ron asked, pointing to the west.
"Looks like it," Ginny said, and looked to Harry, who nodded. Hermione saw that Neville and Ginny were dressed in denims and t-shirts. They were both purebloods and they dressed like Muggles. She mentally shrugged and moved into Harry's side as they all began walking toward the lake, at a very sedate pace.
The air was cooling off, and when they reached the sandy shore after another two minutes' easy conversation, the sand was almost cold beneath their feet. Harry and Hermione were barefoot; the others had sneakers or sandals on.
"What is that?" Ron asked, looking toward the speedboat tethered to the end of the dock.
"That," Harry said, "is a speedboat."
"And we're going to go for a ride in it," Luna said, stating it more than asking it.
"Sounds like fun," Ginny commented, eyeing the boat and leaning into Neville, who wrapped an arm around her.
"How fast does it go, Harry?" Neville asked.
"Uh…about two hundred kph."
Harry and Hermione started toward the boat, down the dock, but turned after a moment. Ron, Luna, Neville, and Ginny were standing on the beach, looking uncertain still.
"Well come on then," Hermione prompted, and they started along the dock toward them. Harry jumped into the boat and then helped the rest in, all except for Ron and Neville, who just looked at Harry and leapt in as well. Hermione shook her head. Typical men.
Ron and Luna took the seats in the second row and Neville and Ginny took the seats in the third row; Hermione sat in the passenger seat and Harry got behind the wheel.
"You guys thirsty or anything?" Harry asked, looking around at everyone. There were two empty seats in the back. They nodded and he conjured them all drinks. Hermione suddenly had a warm butterbeer in her hand and she squeezed Harry to her briefly as she sipped the sweet liquid.
The engines roared to life, idled for a moment with guttural growl, and then revved as Harry inched the throttle forward. Hermione cast a Muting charm to cut the sound of the engine and the wind as they moved away from the dock and out into the lake. She sat sideways in her seat so she could look at everyone, and smiled internally at what she saw.
Neville and Ginny, whose red hair was billowing out behind her like some crimson streamer, were holding hands, sipping their beverages, and taking in the pristine surroundings as they soared across the smooth waters of the lake. Luna had moved onto Ron's lap, where she curled up, and they were both talking about something. Hermione couldn't really hear it, though.
Her eyes moved to Harry, and this time she did grin. He had a goofy smile plastered across his face as he stood driving the boat. His shaggy hair was blowing about and he looked like he was having a grand old time. She prodded him with a foot, which had been on the leg hanging over the side of the chair, and he looked over at her. His eyes twinkled at her and they just smiled for a moment.
"That's cute, you two," Ron said, amusement in his voice. Hermione looked to him, and then rolled her eyes. Luna had dropped her head to his chest, curling into his lap even more. Her rather small stature allowed her to be almost swallowed up by Ron's long, lanky figure.
"As is that," she pointed out, to which Ron shrugged. He was rubbing small circles on Luna's back.
"This is quite nice," Ginny said.
"It is, isn't it?" Harry asked, rhetorically. "And the best part is, this boat never needs petrol-it's powered by magic."
A silence settled over them for a moment as they sliced toward the northern shore of the lake. Hermione then turned to look at Neville and Ginny again.
"How is Hogwarts these days, Neville?" she asked him. She saw him draw his attention in from the sights all around them and focus on her.
"Good," he eventually said. "It's not really like it used to be, at all, though."
"How so?" Hermione asked. The rest of them were listening now, as well.
"Well, for one, there's less petty bickering between houses, which is good, but it's definitely a different atmosphere from when we were all there." Nods accompanied his observation.
"Minerva is a good headmistress," he continued, "but she doesn't really compare to Albus. There was always some mystery around him, which made him the perfect headmaster. You never knew when you were going to catch a glimpse of his real power, if you ever did. Minerva is just straightforward, which isn't bad, but again…different."
"Albus was one of a kind," Luna said, and Hermione couldn't ever remember hearing Luna talk about Dumbledore before. She wondered what the blonde's insight was on the former headmaster.
"Indeed," Harry commented.
"Binns still teach History?" Ron asked.
Neville laughed. "Oh no. The first thing Minerva did after the war was get rid of Binns. Terry Boot teaches that now. I think she also might have been planning on doing away with Divination, but Trelawney retired, making that decision rather easy. She just never hired another Divination teacher."
"Who replaced Flitwick?" Harry asked, quietly, and Hermione knew he was thinking about the small man's death at the hands of Voldemort that final day.
"Padma Patil," Neville answered, just as quietly.
"And…Hagrid?" Harry asked.
"You wouldn't know her…she went to Beauxbatons. Her name is Bernice. She's a little older than all of us."
"How's Herbology going for you?" Hermione asked. All of this information was actually new to her, as well. She hadn't realized just how out of touch they'd all been, if the looks on Ron and Luna's faces were any indication. They looked like they hadn't known any of it either.
"Really well," Neville said, honest enthusiasm in his voice. Hermione saw Harry smile out of the corner of her eye. They had reached the northern shore and he turned the boat back toward the south.
"I was actually on the Examination board this past year. I helped write the OWL and NEWT examinations. There were a lot of archaic questions on them, not just in Herbology I'm sure, and so I helped bring the test up to date."
"Tell them about your mastery, hun," Ginny said. Neville looked at her and squeezed her hand, and then looked forward again.
"I've almost completed my mastery in Herbology, which is a dissertation on the newly found properties of dogwood and how they seem to be helping cure or at least stop the Muggle disease Alzheimer's."
"It only affects Muggles?" Ron asked. He sounded like he had some knowledge of what the disease was, though Hermione could not fathom where he'd gotten that information.
"Until recently, yes," Neville said, leaning back in his chair a bit. He was speaking passionately now. "In the last decade or so, though, it's begun to affect witches and wizards as well, so there was a huge push to find a cure within the magical realm." Hermione made a dirty look, and Neville must have seen it, because he nodded at her.
"I know, Hermione, I find it despicable too, that we're not using more of our special talents to help Muggles, and only do so when their maladies affect us as well, but that's not the kind of change I can cause. Right now, I'm putting the finishing touches on this mastery, and then after I might try to bring the results to the Muggles. Alzheimer's is a huge problem for them."
"I know," Hermione commented, her memory transporting her back fifteen years, to a time before Hogwarts and Harry Potter, when her grandmother had been unable to remember her granddaughter's name.
"My grandmum was afflicted by it, and it got so severe that she couldn't even function anymore. The disease
ate her alive."
There was an odd silence then, broken only by the muted sound of the wind and the motors, and then Neville spoke:
"Exactly the kind of thing I hope this research can bring a stop to, but that's only if I can get it past the International Confederation of Wizards and the Statute of Secrecy."
"If Albus was still the Supreme Mugwump," Harry suddenly said, "you wouldn't have a problem there." A pause. "Who is the Supreme Mugwump these days?"
Hermione answered instead of Neville, as she had been discussing this about a month previously with one of her coworkers. "No one, Harry. The Confederation never appointed another one. They thought it better the position remained vacant than filling it with someone unworthy of the post."
"And Chief Warlock…?"
"Amos is the interim Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, excluding any legislative matters. He only presides over judicial and executive sessions," Hermione answered. Again, it looked like the others hadn't known this information, because they were drinking up the knowledge.
How could they all live in a world and know so little about it? Were there lives so demanding that they could never take a step back and consider everything that had changed since Albus had died, or since Harry had killed Voldemort? If the six of them had remained close, the knowledge they individually held would no doubt be collective information. Hermione was amazed at the simplicity of the rift between them all, but how complete it actually was. She desperately wanted things to be like they once were, between them all.
"So if Arthur became-" Harry started, but cut himself off abruptly. Hermione saw him press lips together very tightly, impassivity written across his face.
"What about my dad?" Ron asked.
"Nevermind, Ron, I was just thinking, that's all."
Hermione wondered why he was suddenly being so evasive, and made sure to remember to talk to him later about it. They were in the middle of the lake now, and Harry backed off on the throttle, so that they came to rest straight out from the dock. Hermione canceled the Muting charm and the wind suddenly rushed to meet their ears. The sun could no longer be seen, and the day was fading fast.
"So Harry, you still haven't told us all about your time abroad-not the full story, at least," Ginny commented, looking up from her and Neville's joined hands to Harry. He turned around, leaned against the wheel, and regarded them all. Every single one of them was looking at him, Hermione noticed.
"First, I'd like to know one thing," he said, looking back and forth between Ginny and Neville.
"Ok," the redhead responded.
"Have you two set a date yet?"
"Saturday, December 14th, at Hogwarts, just after the fall term ends," Neville said, looking at Ginny and smiling broadly. She leaned over and pecked him on the lips.
"Congratulations," Harry said, which the rest of them echoed. Hermione could already imagine how gorgeous Ginny would look in a wedding gown.
"But don't tell mum," Ginny said, laughing slightly. "She doesn't know the date yet. Neville and I will tell her soon."
"Maybe Luna and I will have to tell her our date, as well," Ron suddenly said, and there was a shocked silence, in which people processed what he said, and then an explosion of noise, mostly from Ginny and Hermione.
"You finally proposed-" Hermione said.
"When is it going to be?" Ginny asked, overriding Hermione's dig.
Ron and Luna looked at each; the love they held for the other was very apparent in their eyes. Hermione wondered if she was that obvious when she looked at Harry. Luna moved her hands from where they were clasped in her lap, twitched a finger, and a stunning gold band with a sparkling diamond faded into view. Hermione almost laughed because of the conversation she and Harry had had about rings earlier.
"We were thinking next summer, June 21st, to be exact. It's a Saturday," Luna said transferring her gaze from the ring to Ron's eyes.
"Congratulations to you two, as well!" Harry exclaimed. Hermione saw the grin on his face and soon enough everyone on the boat was grinning. Harry seemed to be able to do that. If he was happy, others were. Angry…and others became so. Sad as well. Just something about him had that effect.
"Maybe we'll have a bunch of little Longbottoms and Weasleys running around soon," Hermione commented offhand, and then laughed at the stricken looks on the couples' faces.
"Let's just get through the wedding first!" Neville said, and Ron nodded in agreement. Luna and Ginny just shook their heads, small smiles on their faces.
"So Harry," Ginny said, turning back to the captain of the boat, "we still need to hear all about your last four years."
"We do, don't we?" he asked, turning back to face the wheel. "Let's head back to the house and get some dinner, and I'll tell you all about it as we eat." The engines roared to life once again and this time Hermione didn't bother with the Muting charm as they only had a small distance to go back to the dock. She saw the last glimmers of light in the western sky, as they headed in that direction, reflected off the glassy surface of the lake. Twilight had come to the Manor.
----------
"The house is even more impressive from the inside," Ginny said. The six of them were taking their seats up on the third floor western balcony, where the only light left of the day was a deep purple just above the tree line. Harry had turned on the balcony lights for the Manor, which were also powered by magic, as Hermione had found out just yesterday, so they were all bathed in a gentle golden light.
"I would say so," Ron agreed, sitting next to Luna and Ginny and across from Hermione and Harry.
"Well," Harry said, taking his seat last, "you six might be seeing a lot more of it."
"How so?" Neville queried.
"He's going to give us full access," Luna commented, looking at Harry with her gray eyes.
Harry inclined his head in her direction, as if awarding her a point in some contest. "Almost, but not quite. Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, and Neville Longbottom are hereby granted unrestricted access to Potter Manor and all of its amenities, with the exception of the master suite."
Before anyone could react, there was a hissing noise and then a build-up of power, as if there was magic in the air that was collapsing on all of them. Then, with a strong gust of wind, it exploded outward in a dazzling ring of white light, leaving everything as it had been. When Hermione's eyes adjusted again, she saw stunned looks on everyone's faces, except for Harry's.
"Harry…" Ginny trailed off.
"You didn't have to do that, mate," Ron said, though he looked like he wasn't going to argue.
Harry shrugged. "This is far more space than me and-than-than Hermione and I will ever need, so what's mine is yours," he said, speaking quickly and then staring around as if challenging someone to say something. Hermione couldn't have if she'd wanted to, because of what he'd just said. She searched for his hand under the table and gripped it very hard when she found it. Their eyes met for a second and she saw the love that had been in Ron and Luna's in his as well, directed toward her. She took a great shuddering breath, and looked around as well.
Everyone else was smiling, with perhaps the biggest of all on Ron's face. She laughed at that, and leaned into Harry. He slipped an arm around her shoulders.
"Just where have you been for the past two weeks, Hermione," Ron asked, with a very knowing look on his face. Ginny and Neville perked up at this; Luna, on the other hand, smiled gently and seemed to know exactly where she'd been.
"That's coming at the end of my story," Harry said, before she could say anything. "Dobby," he called out. The elf was standing before them an instant later.
"What can Dobby do for you?" the small elf asked. Hermione noticed a slight change in his language already, after only a few days bound to Harry. The four others didn't look very surprised to see Dobby working for Harry.
"Have you, Winky, and Libby eaten yet?" Harry asked. Dobby shook his head. "Then could you please bring up dinner for the six of us, plus you three?"
"Dobby can't believe that Harry Potter wants him and his own to eat with him and his friends!" the elf said, and it took Hermione a moment to decipher exactly what the elf meant. The pronouns were a little confusing.
"So is that a yes?" Harry asked, laughter in his voice.
"Of course!" Dobby squeaked and disappeared.
"Winky and Libby?" Ron asked, looking at Harry strangely.
"You'll see," Hermione said, and moments later, a large amount of food appeared on the table, followed by an honored Dobby, an amused Winky, and a wound-up Libby. Foregoing her chair, she jumped right into Harry's lap. He jumped a little at the sudden weight in his lap, but otherwise said nothing to admonish her. She was literally bouncing on him, looking around at all the amazed faces staring at her.
"Libby, that wasn't very polite," Winky reprimanded. Dobby and Winky took their seats between Harry and Luna.
"It's ok Winky," Harry said.
"You must be Harry Potter's famous friends!" Libby squeaked out. "Mummy and daddy have told me so much about all of you, and about how you stopped the evil wizard. It's so great to meet all of you!"
"It's an honor, Libby," Luna said, the first to break from her shock at seeing the tiny elf jump right into Harry's lap. She looked at Dobby and Winky. "How old is she?"
"She is three, Miss Lovegood," Winky replied.
"Please, call me Luna," Luna said. "And you can call him Ronald, her Ginny, and him Neville," she said, pointing to each one as she named them. Slightly reverential looks flitted across Dobby and Winky's faces, but they nodded. Harry and Hermione had gone through a similar process.
"Hermione," Ron said, "I thought you were a crusader for Elf rights? You let Harry bond three elves to him?"
"It turns out," Hermione chuckled, "that elves are actually happier, more magically capable, and smarter when bound, as Dobby so succinctly informed me." The named elf looked appropriately bashful as all eyes turned toward him.
"That makes sense," Neville mused. "The elf bound to my Gran was happy. We treated her right, though."
"And I will of course treat all of you right," Harry put in, patting the top of Libby's head gently. She was grinning at the attention. "I might have to answer to Libby here if I don't."
"That's right!" she exclaimed, and everyone laughed.
Dinner was a relaxed affair, with Libby the amazingly tiny house elf providing enough merriment for all nine of them. She never did leave Harry's lap though, and even though Hermione knew she was a House Elf, not a human, she saw that Harry would be a good father. He was attentive to her when he needed to be, but not overly so. A curiously warm feeling spread through her as she watched him interact with the elf, all the while regaling all of them with a detailed history of events of the past four years.
It lasted until well after they'd finished eating and the dishes had been banished to the kitchen, and after the peepers in the fields surrounding the house had started in on their night song. Everyone had conjured slightly warmer clothes at different points, to ward off the encroaching chill of night.
Dobby, Winky, and Libby left near the end of his tale, just before Harry reached the point where Hermione had shown up, citing bedtime for Libby. The elf complained and looked to Harry for support, but he only shook head and told her that she should listen to her parents. Grudgingly, she climbed down from his lap and disappeared into thin air with her mother and father.
There was a kind of collective deep breath then, with everyone absorbing everything Harry had told them, with nothing but the soft hum of the two lights and the noise of the crickets.
"And then," Harry said, restarting his stalled tale, "Hermione showed up." He looked toward her and found her hand underneath the table, as she had done to him before. She smiled and that warm feeling continued to spread throughout her.
"Just like that?" Ginny asked, clearly enthralled up to this point by Harry's time in America. None of them had appeared bored, and had asked good questions now and then. Hermione was glad they all genuinely wanted to know how Harry's time abroad had been-maybe they hadn't all drifted apart as much as she'd thought.
"Just like that," Hermione said, nodding. "Your dad promoted me to Chair of Muggle Liaisons, and then gave me a month off. I start again on the first, so I had nothing else to do."
"You're right under dad now, aren't you?" Ron asked.
"Yeah."
"So wait a second, you decided that it would be fun to spend two weeks in America?" Ginny asked. "I find it hard to believe you did something that impulsive."
"Well ok," Hermione said, coloring a little, and amazed that Ginny still knew her so well. "It took some convincing by mum to get me to go."
"Jane's a lot like Hermione," Harry put in, smiling at some memory. "Jane is her mother," he added, realizing that the others might not know Hermione's mum's name.
"And you reconnected during those two weeks, or what?" Neville asked. His and Ginny's hand were clasped together on the table.
"You could say that," Harry responded. "Suffice it to say that Hermione showed me something I'd been missing for four years." Hermione thought of when Harry'd walked in on her splayed bum-she sure had showed him something that night.
"Aww, that's so cute," Ron said, sniffling and rubbing a fake tear from his eye. "You and Hermione warm my heart, Harry," he said, chuckling slightly.
"I'm glad, Ron," Harry said. She watched Harry and Ron lock eyes for a moment, and then glance toward both Luna and Hermione, and nod slightly. They understood each other like only best friends could, and it touched Hermione that they'd fallen back into their old habits so easily. Sitting up here with the five of them, late at night on one of Harry's many balconies, she was reminded very powerfully of how close they'd all been during the last year of the war. Inseparable was the word that came to mind. And now Ginny and Neville were getting married, as were Ron and Luna, and Harry had all but said the same thing earlier when he'd made that comment and him and her living in the house…
Maybe the past years hadn't changed things as much as she'd thought they had. Maybe her perspective was a little skewed, because she'd spent most of that time up to the tits in work. It was comfortable with them all, and she missed it. She resolved then and there to make more time for all of them, not just Harry, and she wondered if the look on Harry's face didn't say same thing.
"This baseball thing…" Luna started in, with her confoundingly perceptive voice. "Is it over? Or is there something else you have to do?" The four of them had listened patiently as Harry explained baseball and how he had played for his university's team. Hermione knew they didn't recognize it for the big deal it really was-well, Luna might have.
Harry laughed uneasily. "Funny that you mention that," he said, and then looked toward Hermione, seeking reassurance. She nodded, and he took a deep breath. "I'm actually meeting with a professional team on Friday to listen to their offer, and then decide whether or not I want to play for them."
Only crickets were heard again, accompanied by the soft humming of the lights, for several moments.
"In America?" Ron asked. Harry nodded.
"You taking a portkey over there?" Neville wondered.
"Actually, I'm Apparating Hermione and I over there."
"You can side-along someone that far," Ginny said, incredulously.
"Don't forget, Ginny, that this is Harry we're talking about," Luna put in, smiling serenely at all of them. "Which team are you meeting with?"
"The Yankees," Harry answered, and Hermione wasn't sure if any of them, besides Luna, would know the name. They had vaguely familiar looks on their faces, though.
"So…what does that mean, exactly?" Ron asked, sitting forward slightly.
"I'm not sure yet, I have to listen to what they have to say first," Harry said, in a slightly closed-off tone. Hermione saw Ron glance at her and then shake his head slightly. He leaned back.
"Well bloody good luck with that," Neville said, and then stood and stretched. "This has been a very good night, but I think Ginny and I should get along soon." Ginny nodded in agreement, stood, and wrapped her arms around Neville's much larger body.
"Ok," Harry said, exhaling as if he'd just avoided something unpleasant. "We should do this more often." They nodded. "And don't forget what I said-feel free to use this house and property whenever you want."
"Sounds good, Harry," Ginny said, snuggling tighter into Neville.
"Bye," they said, and Disapparated from the balcony with a low crack. Hermione sat back in her seat and arched an eyebrow at Ron and Luna. They glanced at each other and nodded.
"I think it's a night for us, too," Ron said.
"Thank you for the superb dinner, Harry," Luna said, standing and pulling Ron to his feet as well. "Ronald and I had a wonderful time, and I'm sure we will be taking you up on your offer every now and then."
"That we will," Ron agreed.
"It was nice seeing you two," Hermione said.
"Yeah, stop in whenever you can," Harry agreed, and the tall redhead and small blond followed their similarly engaged friends from the balcony with another crack. The noises of the night greeted Harry and Hermione, who abruptly found themselves alone on the veranda.
"I'm glad we did this tonight," Harry commented, moving his chair over a little so he was right next to her.
"Me too," Hermione agreed, leaning her head against his shoulder. She felt his arm snake around her back and then press her against him.
"Hermione," Harry started, and she could hear doubt in his voice. She was curious about the sudden change in his inflection.
"Hmm?" she intoned, enjoying his solid physical presence.
"You remember when Arthur and I went into the orchard the other night?"
"Yeah, and you wouldn't tell me what you'd been talking about," she commented. She had wondered on and off over the past several days if he was ever going to share with her the gist of that conversation. It seemed the moment had finally arrived.
"That one, yes," Harry affirmed, obviously stalling for some reason. What had Arthur and he talked about that was giving him so many problems?
"Just spit it out, Harry," she told him.
"He…I…well-he ruddy asked me to run with him as his Vice Minister for this November's election."
Hermione's brain stopped. "You-what?"
"Amos doesn't want to run for Minister of Magic again, and asked Arthur if he would. Arthur is going to and he wants me to be his Vice Minister," Harry said, in one breath. Hermione's thought process restarted in a rush, with snippets about Harry being her boss and working in the Ministry and being in Britain and not playing for the Yankees falling over each other in her mind. She was a bit overwhelmed.
"What did you tell him?" she eventually asked.
"That I'd think about it," he answered. "What else could I tell him?"
What he said was true, but Hermione couldn't help think, just for a moment, how different the magical world could be right now if Harry had been Vice Minister or Minister for the past four years. He would affect change just by being in the position, whether he was consciously advocating for it or not, and if down the road he was in some kind of leadership position within magical society, she wondered where he could bring them all…
But that was a fleeting thought, soon replaced by the realities of the moment: their trip to New York in two days, and how that was now affected by this new knowledge; Hermione's return to work as Chair of an increasingly busy department on June first; their new (or old?) relationship and where that would lead them during whatever changes their lives would bring; and, of course, just what Harry as Vice Minister actually meant.
"Right now, honestly, what do you think about it?" she asked, trying to get a feel for his thoughts on the subject.
"That I have no fucking idea why Arthur asked me, of all people, to run with him. That I'm losing my marbles here trying to figure out what I want to do, and keep you in that equation. That baseball would be fun but it's in America, far away from you and this place that I've returned to and started to love. That being the Vice Minister would overwhelming and above my abilities-"
"Harry," she cut him off, feeling a little magic start to build in the air. "Breathe." Serenity fell across the balcony for several moments, broken only by Harry's slightly harsh breathing.
"I left, Hermione," Harry said, much more quietly now. "I left and I forgot about everything. If you hadn't shown up, I don't know if I would have come back."
"But you're here now," she said, squeezing him slightly. Emotion unlike she'd ever heard from Harry was seeping into his voice. "You're with me, with us, again."
"Why would people want me to be one of their leaders? How could Arthur think, that after four years, the public would want me to be his Vice Minister?"
"You brought peace, Harry-"
"But is that enough?" he cut her off, his voice heating up again. "My defeating Voldemort has nothing to do with being capable in government, or politics."
"Yes it does," she said, her voice a little stronger now. "People rallied around you before, Harry. You coordinated the resistance, starting way back in our fifth year. You might not be aware of this, but you have a presence that manifests itself when it needs to be seen, which I've never seen in anyone else. You command respect because you deserve it, and because you've earned it."
"The DA was your idea," he reminded her.
"But it would have been nothing without you leading it."
"I just don't know, Hermione," he said, some anguish in his voice. All of this indecision-from these huge choices-seemed to be eating him up. He was a powerful wizard and a compassionate human being, and he didn't want to let anyone down. She knew the responsibility he still carried on his shoulders, whether he would acknowledge it or not. He had saved their world once, partly in honor of Albus and partly because he'd had to. She knew he still felt like he owed something to Dumbledore, to protect the world Dumbledore had been carefully guarding for so long.
"I don't have the answers, Harry. I can't pretend to not be overwhelmed by what you've just told me. But, why don't we just get past Friday, and then see where things take us?"
He inhaled deeply and then exhaled, slumping against her.
"Ok," he said, very quietly. Neither talked after that, and they sat side by side, leaning against each other on the cool, softly lit balcony for some time afterward. Hermione cleared her mind and enjoyed being in Harry's arms, which were strong and secure, protecting her from the worries of life, which would surely be back with the morning light.
-->