A Most Advantageous Match
Chapter 4: Godric's Hollow
A/N: Here's a few more answers for you. I'm trying to get these out about one a week, so bear with me. ^^
The rest of their honeymoon passed as uneventfully as it had begun, and soon Harry and Hermione were safely ensconced in the carriage on the journey to Godric's Hollow, which was about three hours outside London - a very convenient distance, although they were not likely to take advantage of their closeness to London very often.
Harry was deep in thought during this trip, while Hermione amused herself with a book across from him. She seemed, as usual, perfectly, frustratingly, at ease, but Harry could not be so easy.
Long before their wedding night, Harry had resolved not to force Hermione to share a bed with him if she did not wish it. His sensibilities would not allow it - he could not take pleasure in an act that would bring her such pain, nor would he have her engage in the act solely out of feelings of obligation.
Harry would never admit to anyone but himself that his resolve had, in fact, wavered when Hermione had taken the initiative to come to him. He hadn't been prepared for her to knock on his bedchamber door, nor had he been at all prepared for the vision she had presented in the moonlight, with her hair loose in a riot of curls around her face and her thin white gown flowing about her. He'd been able, for the first time, to see the curves of her body, and he'd been tempted. He'd been sorely tempted.
When he'd seen her anxiety, however, all such thoughts were quelled. For a brief moment, he'd been entertaining thoughts of passionate kisses and his wife's heated embrace - but he quickly realized there could be no such thing. Hermione would be scared, uncomfortable at first…and eventually in pain. The thought of tears on her face effectively destroyed any and all fantasies of blissful lovemaking.
He decided then and there that he would never lay a hand on her unless she wanted his touch as much as he wanted to touch her.
When Hermione left his bedchambers that night, he thought the danger had passed. Even in his naivety, he should have known better, for the next day at breakfast, he found that Hermione had not become once more a simple friend in the light of day. If anything, the light had served to show him the pale glow of her skin and the streaks of bronze in her hair.
Harry soon discovered that his heart must have known something he did not in urging him to propose to Hermione. Indeed, when Miss Weasley had attempted to insult her, the truth had finally sunk in that Hermione was his wife, and he had no regrets or doubts on that score. Hermione was his wife, and he was glad, because no one but Hermione would do.
Unfortunately, Harry now had a problem that he could not see any solution to. He was lusting after - maybe, perhaps, even in love with - his wife, and he had no idea what to do about it.
~
Harry was glad that, upon his first going to live at Godric's Hollow, Hermione came with him. The place was little more familiar to him than it was to her, and the thought of trying to be master of an estate where the people had been going about their business without him for eighteen years was an intimidating one indeed (the estate had been in the hands of a Mr. Remus Lupin since his parents' deaths, a good friend to them and for all intents and purposes, Harry's second godfather). With Hermione, however, who was so innately fair, just, and logical, he felt he could not do anything to terribly wrong - not with her to guide him.
He thought, as their destination grew near, that he saw a bit of nervousness in Hermione's countenance as well, but he could not be sure this was not mere wishful thinking on his part. Nevertheless, this thought did serve a useful purpose - it made Harry determined to show no discomfort on his part, to be stronger and braver, for her sake, so that she might lean on him in starting her new life.
That was a great cause of his anxiety, Harry had to admit - that Hermione might be unhappy in her new home, that she would not be pleased with Godric's Hollow. He knew she was not the sort of woman to be concerned with the expensiveness of the drapes, but he had nonetheless spent a great deal of time and effort decorating the house to her taste. He wanted her to be absolutely enchanted with the place, so that she would never long for any past home or regret - due to domestic dissatisfaction - marrying him.
There was one room in particular that Harry felt sure Hermione would fall in love with, and that, of course, was the library. Generations of the Potter family going back centuries had contributed to the massive collection - which now filled the room from floor to ceiling and from wall to wall with volumes. Evidently, the Potter line had been full of voracious readers, especially amongst the females (including Harry's own mother), and full of spouses willing to humor them. Harry had a feeling he, too, would be buying a great number of books for his voracious reader.
The rest of the house, however, he wasn't as sure about. He'd tried his very best to furnish the common areas and her chambers as amenably to her taste as possible, but he doubted his abilities as a decorator and wondered if he'd guessed her preferences correctly at all.
Nothing more could be done, however, as their carriage had come to a stop.
~
The Potter estate at Godric's Hollow was a rather large manor - larger than Hermione had been expecting, to be sure. The great stone edifice was fine and stately, with the kind of elegance that withstands the tides of fashion. Hermione was immediately impressed with it.
A man came out to meet them, with grey hair and eyes of almost the same hue, whom Hermione recognized as Mr. Lupin, who had been a professor at Hogwarts for a short time. Unfortunately (as he was reputed to be a great teacher), Hermione had never had the luxury of learning from him, because he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, a course that young ladies had not been able to take at Hogwarts for many years.
"Lupin," Harry greeted him happily. "Meet my wife."
"It's a pleasure, Mrs. Potter," he said with a bow. "I've heard great reports of your intelligence."
Hermione blushed. "I'm amazed anyone's been making reports about me at all." She was tempted to tell him that she'd heard good things of him as well, and that she wished she could have been in his course, but she couldn't be certain that he wouldn't find it improper, so she said nothing else.
"Well, you shouldn't be surprised that I've been making such reports," Harry interjected. "And you ought to know it's quite true, or else you're not as intelligent as I thought you were."
Hermione could only laugh at him. "You flatter me too much, but as I know you'll never stop, I'll just have to advise everyone to pay you no attention."
"My wife is quite silly," Harry said conspiratorially to Lupin. "I think I may have to lock her up in the attic."
"What a waste of a good wife that would be."
"Yes, you're right," Harry said with a grin. He turned to Hermione and offered his arm. "Come, let me show you the house."
Hermione nodded her agreement and took his arm, and he led her up the steps and through the fine, sturdy doors into the manor's grand entryway. Her eyes landed first on the main, marble-lined staircase, which was wide at the bottom and curved upward to the second floor. Her eyes slid down to the floor, a warm shining tile, and then up to the high ceiling.
"It's magnificent," Hermione managed, overwhelmed as she was. Although she'd known that the Potter family was old and wealthy, she'd never imagined the scale of grandeur now before her.
Harry smiled and led her to the dining room, through the kitchen, over to the drawing room, and up to her bedchambers, all of which she found equally impressive. Finally, with the air of an excited child dragging along a parent to see his latest accomplishment, Harry took her to the library, which seemed to cover an entire wing of the house.
"Prepare yourself," Harry said with a grin, before opening the door and gesturing her inside.
Hermione was struck first with the sheer size of the room, which was easily twice the length of the library at Hogwarts. She then realized that every wall was covered floor to ceiling with bookshelves, separated only by windows, and those shelves were all entirely filled.
"Good heavens, Harry, why did you never mention this?" she asked, turning with wonder to his satisfied smile.
"Those aren't even half the collection," Harry told her, stepping forward with his wand raised. A quick gesture sent every shelf along the length of the room to move toward the center, revealing more long lines of shelves, until the back of the room couldn't be seen for all the stacks in the middle.
"There must be thousands," Hermione breathed, taking in the many rows of leather-bound volumes.
"Just over ten thousand," Harry confessed. "My family's collected a combination of wizarding and non-magical titles over at least seven centuries."
Hermione swallowed. "I dare say you'll never have to buy me another book for the rest of our lives."
Harry chuckled. "Oh, no. I have a family tradition to uphold, haven't I? Far be it from me to refuse the convenience of a well-read wife to expand the collection."
Hermione laughed. "Well, at the very least, you've found a way to keep me busy indeed."
~
The comforts of Godric's Hollow were so extensive that Hermione felt very guilty indeed for being at all discontent in her marriage. Her bed alone was a feather-stuffed, silk-sheeted piece of heaven, and every furnishing, tapestry, and carpet in the house was nothing short of beautiful. The house-elves were the most loyal and skilled in the country, and thanks to their service, the house was always in perfect order and the food, right down to the daily bread, was magnificent. Hermione's home with her parents had been comfortable, to be sure, and Hogwarts had always seemed to her to meet the highest standards, but this…this was a level of luxury heretofore unknown to Hermione.
Harry often seemed surprised by the richness of their lifestyle as well, even as the master of the estate, and each day saw them discussing some new and unexpected facet of their living.
Hermione found no shortage of amusement at Godric's Hollow, either. Harry had devised for her a lovely little nook in the library where she could read in comfort for hours on end, and when she tired of this, she could explore the grounds, which were as extensive as the library and as beautiful as any other part of the home. Every day Hermione found a new path to explore and some new natural beauty along the way. If these weren't enough to hold her attention, she had ample opportunity to practice drawing or playing the piano forte, should she wish it - practices she had abandoned in childhood but found herself returning to, finding comfort in the practice of the arts.
Unlike many married couples, she and Harry spent a great portion of each day together, conversing or pursuing any number of activities in companionable silence. Hermione wondered if this was less a product of Harry's affection for her than an effect of his upbringing, which left him with little knowledge of sport and other typical masculine entertainments. Harry did fly very well, and devoted a part of every fair day to this activity, but otherwise, he remained indoors or walked the grounds with Hermione.
Thus her married life began, and every evening, Hermione took to the soft warmth of her bed with some sort of satisfaction from the day.
Try as she might, however, Hermione could not close her eyes without thinking of her husband, alone in the next room, and wondering if her marriage would ever be behind closed doors what it seemed in plain view.