Harry Potter and the Blossoming of Fates

i. Foreword:

Like many had undoubtedly felt after finally putting down their copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince after a long and exhausting read, I was disappointed. Even the word “disappointed” might not be justifiable enough a word to carry forward my disgust and anger towards J.K. Rowling for providing me, after five luscious books in an amazing universe, a paperweight rather than a book. From that day, I have completely disowned the Book That Shall Not Be Named from the Harry Potter universe, and had continued thinking of Harry Potter and the series of books in its complete entirety… except for that latest “book.”

Before you continue on with this foreword, I would first like to point out that the next bit is going to be a rant and/or my personal opinions and comments about the Harry Potter universe, and if you don’t feel like reading it, I don’t blame you. However, if are interested, by all means, read on.

Why was I disgusted beyond reason by this book? Apart from its nauseating and unbelievable plotline, and its absence of a maturing Harry Potter (which should have started happening books ago), I assume that most of you would easily agree with me that the relationships introduced in the Book That Shall Not Be Named were completely horrendous and repulsive. Not only that, but I was also duped by J.K. Rowling to find out that their “romance” (which easily did not exist at all) caught little to no interest from me. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley – what was J.K. Rowling thinking? She purposely put the selfish tramp and one of the most selfless characters in literature together, and that is not even mentioning the other ship that I refuse to ever put down or describe in words, because it’s generally impossible to define something that has no foundation for its creation and growth.

Hermione Granger and Harry Potter are both very unique characters. I have read a great deal of literature, varying from fantasy and science fiction to general mystery/suspense and classic literature, but never have I found myself so immersed into a character as I was with Harry Potter and his best friend, Hermione Granger. Harry Potter was a child born into a home where he had no apparent loving family and was left alone, physically and emotionally abused, up until he was eleven where he was pushed head-first into a foreign world and was introduced to a foreign concept: love. Just thinking of how complex his personality and character must be from such an upbringing is stomach-turning and I always wonder whether or not J.K. Rowling really did portray such a character in the right manner. On the other hand, Hermione Granger is a smart, wise, observant, and a loyal best friend. She is everything that a boy who had never experienced love before would ever want: a friend that would never let go and would always go to great lengths to help you. One who always looks for your faults and tries her bests to remedies them, but overall simply understands the sort of feelings that her best friend are going through, as mind-numbingly indescribable as they are.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix all showed us the great strength binding both Hermione and Harry in friendship. However, it also gave us foreshadowing hints of a future relationship that will be so much more. I have heard so many things about how those who think that a Harry/Hermione relationship in canon is unthinkable and supposedly “delusional” of them, but I think that the opposite should be said. Up until the Book That Shall Not Be Named, all evidence pointed to Harry and Hermione to be put together as a couple. Even the sixth book, as contradictive as it was, still held a great deal of evidence to support it! However, when Harry Potter and the Half-Baked Plot was released, all of us were forced to see Harry and Hermione’s characters destroyed and shredded – several times – through J.K. Rowling’s “writer’s shredder”.

I respected their friendship so much up until that book, and I loved how two seemingly different people in terms of their background could match each other so well, and still express themselves to each other in an entirely platonic way. You could see them literally understand each other without words, and they had, at numerous times, sacrificed skin and soul to save each other from life-threatening situations. Not even friendships in this day could be commonly found with such intensity, and the bone-deep reality of it made me yearn for their connection to deepen, to grow, to mature into a full-fledged bond of love. It’s obvious by the connection that Hermione and Harry shared that they have something between them… an understanding, completion, and care for each other that goes farther than words could describe. It was this that primarily made me realize that there was no way that even J.K. Rowling could write any other ship with Hermione, other than with her ending up with Harry. It just seemed completely incomprehensible, and I am still now left wondering just why J.K. Rowling chose to even implement romance in her story at all? Despite all of this, I have still managed to keep a small bit of myself hoping… hoping that J.K. Rowling will prove to somehow repair all that she has ruined in her universe. Somehow atone herself and release a book that will blow us away. As doubtful as this may seem, I still hold hope.

When looking at the two unique characters that are Hermione and Harry, we can also tell there is another character who completely acts as an opposite to such a description: Ron Weasley. Idiot. Prat. Git. You name it. He’s everything there is that resembles senselessness. Of course, I can’t possibly say that he isn’t a good friend. Of course he is. He’s Harry’s first best friend and in more than enough ways, he saved or had made a contribution to something that eventually saved his life. A true friend, however, does not scare their friend into being afraid of expressing themselves other than the way they want to be expressed: Harry is forced to hide away his exceptional wealth, and so much more in fear of being the catalyst to Ron’s wrath. The friendship that they shared at first was completely innocent. Ron’s character was brilliant: a loving friend who, despite his own priorities, could sacrifice to help a true friend. His character, however, eventually became twisted and unrealistically jealous and oblivious. Why Harry is still friends with such a selfish and jealous-prone prat is beyond me, but I just honestly can’t believe why Ron Weasley wasn’t killed somewhere after Book 2. He had little to no use after Book 4, and was simply one of those characters meant to be Harry’s “friend” but had definitely failed greatly at it (major understatement, if you can’t notice that). His character became a spoiled vegetable that should have been thrown out into the trash after Book 2! But alas, since he seems to have been given such an outstanding position as Harry’s friend, it’d be almost impossible for me to ignore that in this story, so he will have to be there (unfortunately). Despite my hatred towards Ron Weasley’s current character, I will try my best to keep him as in-character as possible (pray for me; I’m not sure if I can do it). I will, also, try to right the wrongs that J.K. Rowling has seemingly made with such a potential as Ron Weasley was at the end of the second book of her ingenious series (well, most of it at least).

That just about ends my rant. Sorry if I hurt anyone, or strained any nerves, I was just expressing my personal feelings. If anybody agrees with me, please go ahead and tell me (in your reviews or preferably by e-mail), and I’ll enjoy a lengthy conversation about the subject! I think, however, I might have spent just a tad-bit too much time away from the actual point of this foreword, so without further ado….

I entered the Harry Potter fandom a few months ago when a friend of mine almost practically forced me to start writing a fan fiction and to review hers. Even though I may have thought otherwise at the time, I am extremely grateful of her actions. She made me realize the immense creativity found in the Harry Potter fandom. I suppose, after reading a great number of different novels, one-shots, and such in the form of Harry Potter fan fiction, I had finally received the appropriate amount of incentive and inspiration to have finally given the rough push to start an epic novel, one that could transcend the “reality” put forward by J.K. Rowling; completely blow it off of the map. I don’t know if that’s even possible, but I’ll try my best. I vow that to all of you readers, and I hope I deliver satisfactorily. Most prominent of those fanfictions that had helped me gain an incentive to write such a novel was one known as Vox Corporis, which was written by MissAnnThropic. I would invite anyone who enjoys the H/Hr ship as much as I do to read that novel. Don’t mind the length: it only took me about a day and a half to complete because of its awesome-ness. It may have its ups and downs, but so do all novels. Vox Corporis is just as close to being perfect as any novel I’ve so far read in the HP fandom, and that’s not just because of the author’s knack to actually proofread, which seems to be very rarely found in this fandom, strangely enough.

As you may have realized already from my previous rant, this book will not refer or require the reading of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince… in any form. It is better to simply imagine it was never written (which it shouldn’t have been). Rather, this book will act as a replacement for that novel, starting immediately after the end of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. It will, of course, feature an H/Hr ship, and some others which I haven’t exactly decided on yet, and will be an Action/Adventure/Romance story. I will, however, focus more on the latter of those genres as I intend to focus on the friendship binding Harry and Hermione and how it will grow.

A word of warning: I’m a revision freak and ultimately a perfectionist. If you’re tracking this story and my updates, you might suddenly be surprised to find me completely revise the previous chapters you’ve already read. It’s how I write. My writing is continuously organic, and I never refrain from hopefully improving it… allowing it time to grow and flourish. I also warn you that because of unforeseen events, I might suddenly disappear into nothingness for days or weeks at a time (let’s hope I won’t at all, but the warning still has to be given out), but I hope for that to slow down as soon as the school year ends (oh, I can’t wait!).

So, that’s just about enough of time for me on the soapbox! Thank you for everyone who has patiently read through this foreword. If you’re interested in reading this novel offline, I will be periodically updating my site (http://beam.to/alx) and additionally posting a HTML/PDF/TXT file that will contain the novel or what has been done on the novel in its entirety. If you don’t see it on the main page (which is most likely as I rarely update my site unless I complete something), then simply visit http://aleius4.freehostia.com/nightlies/ where I will post up my latest updates (under, obviously, the directory “Blossoming of Fates”), most likely even before they find themselves here on the site! I will also respond to all reviews, and post the occasional “author’s note” after some of the chapters in the story. So, without further delay, on with the novel!

- Alexius

April 9, 2007

Updated and Revised – June 9, 2007

ii. General Disclaimer

I live on a beach somewhere in Bermuda, surrounded by beautiful women and lots and lots of money. Yeah, right. I suppose if I did own Harry Potter and all corresponding multiverses associated to it, then I might just have a chance for that to happen. Alas, J.K. Rowling owns that all and she’s the one who gets to boast and flaunt her wealth. I do, however, commend her for her expression of creativity to the writing community, and I also would like to snatch up credit for everything in this story that she or her accomplices do not own.

1. Little Whinging Surprise

That summer was unlike any of Harry Potter’s other summers.

Harry Potter was a young wizard who was currently residing at Number Four Privet Drive in Little Whinging, somewhere to the south of London. He resembled a tall teenager with unruly raven black hair and prominent emerald green eyes and as of that moment, he was lying down, eyes closed, on his bed while facing the ceiling (unfortunately, the bed did not really look like a bed, as it tended to more resemble a layer of rags piled atop each other, even though that account would most likely be modest at best) where he was pre-occupied with the reminiscing and thoughts of his last few days. The last few days where he had been residing at his uncle’s and aunt’s home. Those days were very exceptional ones in comparison to the rest of Harry’s previous summer days because of one central fact: his guardians, the Dursleys, were practically ignoring his presence in their home, most likely in fear of invoking the wrath of the Order of the Phoenix who had warned them, quite specifically, to lay off him this summer while he was leaving King’s Cross after his journey on the train from Hogwarts.

Overall, Harry was eternally grateful for the action that his many friends at the Order did to help him have a slightly more easier and interesting summer this time around. The only times when the Dursleys would actually speak to Harry would be in a reluctant response to one of his very few questions or if it was required of them to and that has made Harry an extremely happy fellow that summer. He was not used to this non-responsive attitude that his guardians, the Dursleys, were now giving him. Rather, he was used to the stable and static schedule of having to wake up everyday to enter into a non-ending cycle of chores until at which point where he would be given a small amount of time for himself. This particular sort of time is one that he would have usually used towards the end of his summers to work on his summer homework.

On the summer currently in question, however, Harry had been utilizing this newly found free time he had come to find as best as he could. He was trying to do homework whenever he was physically able to, and was pushing himself to be much better prepared so that the next time he was needed to have to be relied upon to protect his friends, he could be of more use to them. In order to satisfy this new priority, he had been doing such things as periodic work-outs during the evenings, and sometimes in the morning, and trying his best to read ahead in various texts he had from his previous years at Hogwarts so he could cover anything that had not been taught in the curriculum there.

A sound awoke Harry from his reverie, forcing himself off from the bed and to look around the room for the source of the sound. He realized, soon after, that it originated from his window, where an excited-looking Hedwig was pecking at the glass, trying to attract his attention. Harry, suddenly cheerful by the idea that he had a letter from a friend, walked over to the window and opened it, allowing Hedwig to enter, and then closed it shut behind her. Looking back to his precious owl, he was fortunate enough to be presented with an image of Hedwig flying around the room, her wings flapping guiding her around with great finesse. After several moments of what he had come to consider as showing off on part of his pet owl, his owl came to hover closer to him, and stuck out a leg, obviously beckoning him to take the two letters attached to it. Harry, smiling, complied with her wishes, taking the letters off of her leg, and then guided her over to her perch, where she happily laid and began to feed herself, giving him a small hoot of appreciation for his care and concern.

His owl, ever since he had arrived, seemed to also be unusually happy, spending most of her time flying outside, as his aunt and uncle didn’t seem to have the ability or motivation to dare try and tell him off otherwise as they usually did for this. He hypothesized the reason for his owl’s happiness on the possibility that his owl might be sensing his relief over the fact that his aunt and uncle weren’t bothering him this summer and she was therefore also expressing a mirroring emotion of happiness. This would seem quite plausible as his owl had always seemed to have a very empathic connection with him. Being able to fly freely during the days and nights probably also helped too.

Harry immediately rushed back to his bed, letters in hand, and hastily opened the first one he noticed. On its front was a very familiar and neat cursive writing that read “Harry.” Once opened, he confirmed the writer of this letter as soon as he started to read it.

Dearest Harry,

It was so great to be able to see your owl drop by this morning. He really does have an interesting knack to understand when I wish to contact you. Ever since we had left each other at King’s Cross, I had felt the need to speak to you so much. I will keep this brief, I promise, but please Harry, even if it might hurt you, I want you to hear me out. I don’t want you to be in pain… please let me lend a helping hand. Ever since I’ve arrived at home, I’ve been sorely missing your company and your friendship, and I’m worrying for your well-being. I know you may think otherwise, but I sincerely think that what happened at the Ministry of Magic is by no means your fault.

I also hope that you understand that if there is anything that you need, anything at all, I’ll always be here to help you Harry, as I always have been for you. Don’t grieve as much as I feel you might over what happened at the Ministry of Magic, because I personally think you’re stronger than that Harry, as much as I think you don’t deserve to have anything of these sorts happening to you.

Please write me back as soon as you can, and talk to me! I’m extremely bored and I don’t want to start doing my homework this early on in the summer, so give me a reason to delay that! And don’t you dare start laughing at me! Books and cleverness are not everything, Harry. Friendship… now that’s something worth caring for. Especially when it’s yours.

With Great Love,

Hermione

Harry grinned while he began to read the letter, but had felt sadness begin to envelop his body as the memories of what happened at the Ministry of Magic returned to him in a rushing torrent of images. Images of atrocities he was unfortunate enough to have to face then and earlier on in his life and most of all… of his godfather’s death. Looking back over the letter to remind himself of what Hermione said to him, however, managed to let him begin to feel some strength come back to him as he realized that he could fight it, especially if his best friend believed he could.

Then, the thought of Hermione, much like it did since that day, began to catch up with his mind and body and he began to feel a strange unidentifiable reeling feeling inside of him. He clutched down the paper once he finished reading it, and was about to stash it away on his desk to soon forget about it, but his body stopped him, and he realized that he shouldn’t do that to such a good friend…a friend that he almost got killed.

It was all his fault… the fact that he didn’t listen to Hermione’s wise advise and ran off to find Sirius… the fact that because of this he fell head-first into a trap and endangered his friends in the process, and on top of all that… the fact that he got her hurt and Sirius killed. He got Hermione, the only person who ever cared for him and for him only, not the “Boy-Who-Lived,” hurt and he had the ability to have stopped it just by listening to the advise she had that always seemed to prove itself true. And he got Sirius killed all because he was being a foolish young boy eager who had to extend his hand outward to grasp an adventure, just to satisfy his instinct, curiosity, and his eagerness to save another life who didn’t even need saving.

I could have stopped all of this. Why am I such a careless idiot? He thought in sadness, and then anguish began to overcome him as he began to weep uncontrollably into his arms, hoping to muffle his sounds with them. I know Hermione said I could do it, but I can’t. I just can’t. It’s my entire fault, and I let it all happen! I didn’t even listen to her, and she’s always right about things like this! What’s wrong with me? I’m so stupid! His mind began a never-ending cycle of self-blame and self-observation. He felt all of the guilt of what happened with Sirius and Hermione begin to envelop him, and it made him weep for an immeasurable amount of time.

Sometime later, however, Harry released himself from his death-like grip and looked around. He saw that it was noticeably darker, and he frowned, but continued on with his former line of thought and took up a quill so he could write back to Hermione. Before he could do that, however, the second letter caught his eye. It was different than any of the letters he normally received as all there was on the front of the envelope was a messily written and hastily underlined:

To The One With The Scar

He put Hermione’s letter aside, and opened up the second letter. The instant he opened it, a strange glow surrounded the letter, but then quickly disappeared. On the place where he had first touched the envelope’s flap, a very distinctly-shaped phoenix could be seen drawn in black ink, one he was quite sure was not there when he first caught sight of the envelope. Confused, he took out the parchment contained within and began to read it.

Dear Harry,

I hope this letter gets to you well, and I also hope that your guardians are not treating you as badly as they used to. If they are, please notify us immediately so we here at the Order can take the appropriate actions.

On a better note, I am happy to notify you that Dumbledore and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix have agreed to help soothe your pain while staying at the Dursley’s this summer by extending out an invitation to have a friend of yours remain with you for the remainder of your stay. After a fairly lengthy discussion, we have decided that the most suitable of these particular individuals would be your friend, Hermione Granger. From the reports that we’ve read regarding her and her family’s well-being and safety, we have found that she is as distraught as you are as her parents are currently away on a business trip and have left Hermione alone at home, but are planning to return shortly (most likely around the time you will have left the Dursley’s). At this time, you may return with her to her home and remain for the remainder of the summer at her home, or choose to remain elsewhere.

I hope that you and she will agree to this invitation. We have already notified her of this, so all that is required of you is to wait for her response and to make up your own mind regarding the issue.

Yours Dearly,

The Order

Harry was about to explode with joy and happiness. He was not going to be alone this month, and best of all he was going to have Hermione with him! But then, quite suddenly, that strange and mysterious feeling returned with full force and his happiness began to slowly recede, but not completely disappear.

He grasped his quill and made a reply to both of the letters. After a short while, in which evening had come and gone and he was sitting in near-complete darkness in his room, he had managed to finish both of the letters to the best of his ability, and then smiled, going to turn the light on in his room.

Dear Hermione,

I just heard about what the Order has suggested we both do! I can’t begin to express how happy I am! I’d be pleased beyond all reason if you were to come! But, of course, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just hope that it’ll be as fun for you as it would be for me. Please reply as quickly as possible!

Yours,

Harry

To The Order,

I gladly accept your invitation and am anxiously awaiting Hermione’s reply. Also, my guardians have been treating me just great so don’t worry about that.

Thanks,

Harry

He stuffed both of the letters into empty envelopes he found on his desk, quickly wrote on both of them, and then walked over to Hedwig. She looked up confused. “I know you just got back, Hedwig, but I need you to send two letters for me. Are you up to it?” After a few moments, she hooted admirably and stuck out her leg, seemingly awaiting the letters with great apprehension. He smiled, attached them with a piece of string he gathered off of his desk, and then patted her on the head, “Thanks Hedwig! One of those goes to Hermione, and the other goes to the Order. They’re labeled.”

As if understanding fully, his owl nodded (or at least nodded as best as an owl could nod) and then took off into the night as soon as Harry had opened the window for her. By opening the window, he was also shocked to be encountered by the image of a clear starry sky above.

Looking out of his window, Harry could see the night sky loom over him, a concoction composed of bright stars and constellations as far as the eye can see. Looking at it made Harry come to a state of rest… of ease. Looking into the image of stars above him, he could feel some of the worries he had taken along with his luggage from Hogwarts slip away into the nether. In the night sky, he could imagine a life where vast options awaited him, and where the whole wizarding world around him did not rely on his every decision and move.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there… letting the acidic thoughts of worry, fear, anguish, and danger slowly seep from his mind, and letting himself realize he had something to look forward to this summer. A certain someone, in fact. And he couldn’t help but smile. Smile because he was now beginning to see maybe there was a light in this dark prison he had found himself in. Maybe there was a way out. Maybe, just maybe, I can find a way to make my dream come true: to have a future without Voldemort where I can finally be at peace. Where I don’t have to worry about a prophecy, or about a faceless dark magician that might be behind me. Maybe there really was a way to defeat him once and for all.

When he began to feel too cold to be able to bear, he reluctantly closed the window, and began to make his way back to the bed.

However, he was interrupted when a deep voice suddenly reverberated through the house and got his immediate attention, “Harr-r-r-r-y! Come down here this instance!” It was the voice of his uncle that he had managed to get himself used to over all of these years, but was one that never proved to be anything good when it was expressed in such a fashion.

With a worried feeling, he ran down the stairs and looked for his uncle. He found him at the telephone in the entrance hallway, eyeing him down with anger. “Some funny call from one of those freak friends of yours,” he said, shoving out the phone to him as if was all that he wanted to get out of sight from it.

Harry reluctantly took hold of it, and as soon as Uncle Vernon left back hastily to whatever he was doing, he put the microphone to his mouth, “Hello?”

He was immediately and immensely surprised to hear Hermione’s voice come from the other end, seemingly as excited as he was, “Harry! I just received a letter from the Order and they told me about how I can come and spend the summer with you! I can’t believe it! I’ve been so bored here, and I could hardly stop thinking about you and everything that’s happened last year.”

“Uh…Hermione?”

“Yes, Harry?” She asked back, worry underlining her questioning voice.

“How did you know how to call me here? I don’t even know the number.”

She laughed, “Yeah, this must be strange. The Order gave me your phone number and told me to call you. They said it was faster, and that this way, when the time comes, it could be much easier to explain to your guardians the circumstances of my stay there as this is a form of communication they’re better used to.”

Harry grinned, “Yeah, I see. That’s a great idea. I can’t wait for you to come either. Wait, you are coming, right?”

“Of course, Harry! I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” The sound of her voice was both soothing and medicinal for his doubtful mind. He could literally feel the care and concern washing off of that voice, and desperately tried to focus on it, seeking a distracting presence or reason to be happy.

Still considering this, he replied, “That’s great. I just sent you a letter a few minutes ago. You’ll probably get it soon. I suppose it’s a waste now. I was just asking for your response and telling you how I excited I was. You don’t know how thankful I am of you and the Order for this.”

“Well, what are best friends for, Harry? I’m getting ready as soon as possible. The Order said they’re coming to pick me up in the morning, and I’ll be at your place soon after that. Oh, I can’t wait!”

They both chuckled, and Harry replied, “Neither can I, Hermione. I just hope I won’t be intruding on anything you were doing this summer, though.” He tried to carry over his concern to her, just as she had to him. Oh, how he was worried for her, especially after seeing her seemingly lifeless body on—

“Oh, of course not. I’ve been alone so far this summer, and I’d do anything to be able to spend it with my best friend, Harry. Anyway, maybe when my parents come back, we can come over to my place?”

“I’d love that, Hermione, but like I said before, I don’t want to intru—”

“Shhh! Stop right there. You’re not intruding on anything, Harry. This is my pleasure, and I don’t think you should be left alone this summer with all of those feelings bottled up inside of you. So, please Harry, just let me help you this summer?”

“Well, I suppose I’m at your mercy then, Hermione,” he said half-jokingly, and also partly with great remorse.

“Of course you are. You always have been, Harry.” He couldn’t believe just how serious she sounded, and her reply still reverberated through his mind that night for a reason he could not yet discern.

* * *

As soon as he had got off of the phone, which he returned to a mumbling and very angry Uncle Vernon, Harry had rushed back upstairs and began to clean up his room in anticipation for the next day. After he had come back from King’s Cross, he had managed to somehow spread the contents of his trunk all over the room in the most random and strangest of places.

He was also happy to say that he had managed to begin and complete some of the assignments he was given to do over the summer break. It seems that Hermione’s study habits were beginning to rub off on him, or maybe it was something more? Ever since he had found out about Voldemort’s return, he’s been feeling the dire need to try and make himself stronger and more knowledgeable… what happened at the ministry has made that feeling even greater in potency, and has also made him realize just how much he needed the knowledge that his school provided. He was done slacking off like he did before, and will try his best to save himself and his friends from the evil lurking over them.

Even though he might despise the circumstances of this prophecy and the responsibility he had on his shoulders for the entire Wizarding World, he would still put an effort into helping at least those he knew personally. Especially the one’s that loved him and that he loved back.

Love. That was such a foreign concept to Harry Potter, who had grown up without a slight hint of it at all. But as much as he may be inexperienced with it, he now began to understand the meaning behind that word… “love.” Even if it’s just for love mutually shared between his friends and their families, and for no one or nothing else, it’d be worth dedicating his time towards to prepare for in terms of training and a commitment to learning. He’ll be strong for them, if for no one else.

After a little more than an hour, he had managed to get his room slightly presentable, and had finally made the decision to go to sleep, a smile on his face before he drifted away from reality, a certain conversation with a certain somebody replaying through his mind.

It, however, wasn’t long before Harry was victim to yet another dream, an occurrence that has become commonplace over the years since he had learned of his being a wizard.

A girl was slowly walking up to him. Brown hair with slightly golden highlights poured down past her shoulder, and as she got closer Harry began to realize that this girl became more and more familiar. His cloudy vision masked her identity, and forced him to try and focus more on her more and more familiar face. Before he could try and decipher her identity, however, he immediately realized that the moment after he closed his eyes to blink, both of his hands were now grasping the hands of the girl he had earlier seen approaching, and that they were cheerfully dancing to an inaudible tune. The electric shock he began to feel running through his veins made his heartbeat quicken, and he couldn’t believe how peaceful, yet energetic, this felt.

He never felt happier than he ever did in that moment, seemingly walking on clouds and just centimeters away from a very familiar girl. Still, her form and face were blurry and he couldn’t figure out who she was. What about this young woman made him so alive? So full of energy? Of happiness? Her eyes reflected back a world of meaning back to him, and he couldn’t for the life of him decipher its meaning.

Making him tear her eyes off of her, he noticed something on her arm, something that had suddenly appeared and glittered. His eyes wouldn’t tear away from them. The symbol there on her arm literally called to him, tugged at him for his attention. Its intricacy made his mind swim with possibilities to the symbol’s meaning. The symbol, a very elaborate golden tattoo that seemed to be planted on her right wrist, resembled a craftily designed knot of some kind which was composed of a single thick line twirling around itself four times to create four distinct circular corners. And before he knew what he was doing, he had one of his hands free from their position of dancing to get nearer to it and to touch it.

Before he could get even an inch near it, he suddenly felt everything around him slowly bleed away, melting away into an oblivion of thoughts and ideas. The dream world collapsed around him, returning him to reality.

* * *

Harry woke up with the feeling that he had just awakened from a strange dream… about something that he greatly wanted and needed. He just couldn’t remember what. Of course, he’s been having that same sort of dream since he’s arrived at the Dursley’s, so it must just be some sort of aftereffect of what had happened… before school ended. However, he never really did seem to ever remember these sorts of dreams.

He grumbled irritably, and stumbled out of his bed, still half-asleep. He could tell from the sunlight pouring into his room that it was morning, so he forcibly pushed himself to perform his usual morning activities.

After grooming himself and making himself presentable (his hair could never be defined “presentable” but that’s a different story), Harry was surprised to see Hedwig return, flying through the window as soon as he opened it for her. Flying over to the perch, she poked out her leg with a single piece of parchment attached and hooted for his attention impatiently. Harry grabbed it and opened it hurriedly.

Harry,

Hermione Granger and I will arrive at your home around 10:00 in the morning. Please wait for our arrival then.

Your Headmaster,

Dumbledore

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for everyone who had pointed out the errors in this chapter, and for all of those who had reviewed! The onslaught of reviews had definitely caught me off guard, but have now given me an incentive to try and put out as much of my chapters as fast as I can! Once again, thank you for all of those reviews (both positive and negative in nature)!

Edit: This chapter has been heavily revised as of July 7th, 2007.

2. Thoughtful Revelations

Harry’s grin couldn’t seem to be able to get any wider as he finished reading the letter he had received from Dumbledore, telling him of how he and Hermione were to arrive at his house at 10 o’ clock. What time is it? Harry thought. He glanced over to the clock he had on the end table near his bed and saw that it was 9:23 AM. He unconsciously nodded, and quickly deduced there was enough time for what he had to do.

Rushing downstairs, he quickly realized that his uncle, aunt, and cousin were not at home and instantly felt relief at the fact that this entailed for him and when Hermione came and how it will save him from some unnecessary embarrassment. Hermione deserves to feel at home as much as possible, and I vow to make her feel comfortable with me here. She doesn’t deserve to suffer under my uncle and aunt like I did, Harry thought and began to rummage through cupboards and drawers in the kitchen so he could prepare a small breakfast for both himself and Hermione.

Once the clock on the oven read 9:55 AM, Harry had managed to finish what he thought was a suitable breakfast: two cups of orange juice, toast, and eggs. He smiled as he deposited two servings of them on the kitchen table, and then ran over to the entrance so he can wait for both his headmaster and Hermione. Before coming to the door, however, he instinctively looked in the mirror on his way through the hallway and made sure he looked presentable. Before he could move on, however, he hesitated and tried to register why he did what he did and also the nature of his appearance. Why am I making sure I look good for Hermione, and when have my looks changed so much? His usual scrawny and skinny appearance seemed to have got lost last year as he was now presented with a slightly built young man who looked to be in his late teens and who possessed striking emerald green eyes and an overall rugged appearance. He shrugged those ideas off as soon as he heard the knock on the door, and smiled as he made his way to it so he could open it for them.

What he saw shook him to his very core and made the feelings he tried to suppress all summer shimmer with full force to the surface, almost forcing him to his knees. Hermione Granger was standing there in front of him, and there was no way that he could not have seen it before. Where was he these last few years; to have been so oblivious of this amazing being in front of him the entire time? She was beautiful – mind-numbingly beautiful – and there was no way that he could ever doubt it.

I can say that, can’t I? She’s my best friend; she deserves to be shown her most distinguishable traits. But then again, beauty is the least of her distinguishable traits. No, she possesses far more appealing and incomparable features than her outer beauty. Nobody could possibly deserve her. She’s flawless… perfect.

However, the fact that his mind made that observation so suddenly scared him as he began to eye her up and down to see that she must have been as anxious as him to look presentable, or did she always look so good? So special and tempting to grasp, as elusive and mysterious as a snitch he so dearly chased after during his Quidditch matches. He never before become conscious of the immense depth of her beauty that was scarcely shown when she was wearing Hogwarts robes. The pink shirt and tight jeans that she wore fit her form perfectly and managed to show off curves he never imagined seeing before on her. Even when he had seen her in that unimaginably surreal dress all those years ago during the Yule Ball, he wasn’t this stunned, and that’s saying a lot as he vividly remembered the difficulty he had to tear his eyes off of her that night.

His eyes traveled up her body and were drawn to her lips. They were so soft and luscious that he didn’t know how he managed to keep the lure to reach out and touch them at bay. Eventually, he managed to look away, quite difficultly, and take in her body as a whole. He realized, then, that to top everything off even further, she seemed to have somehow grown into herself more. She was now looking more like a young woman than ever before. The girl he had seen and met on the train ride all of those years ago was still there, a part of the woman he saw now, but now the woman he really saw in front of him was so much more. She has grown both inside and out. And he could say without any hesitance that the change and growth that had occurred was definitely for the better.

With those thoughts, the last few years he shared with Hermione came to his mind, making him see the unimaginable bond of friendship they had formed and shared throughout those years.

It was in their first year that he had first met his best friend Hermione Granger. From the moment they saw each other, he instinctively knew that they shared a very special connection. It was obvious when they had suddenly appeared into each other’s lives for the first time. The curious expression she had which eventually became a grin and finally the understanding her eyes reflected back to him. Then there was the most important fact of all: that when she looked up him, from that day further, she didn’t see the Boy-Who-Lived. She saw Harry Potter, a worthy friend, the Boy-Who-Was, and that fact alone has proven to be the reason he would always have a special place for her in his heart, and why he had one opened for her when they had first met there on that train so many years ago.

Fast forwarding to the second year at Hogwarts, he remembered how he felt when he saw Hermione there in that bed in the hospital wing, having just been attacked and petrified by the basilisk that he had, thankfully, later on defeated in the Chamber of Secrets there in the school. The fact she was in so much pain when he came to visit her in the hospital wing, and could possibly be lost from him forever, made something inside him almost die away, and another part of him beautifully blossom into existence. To this day, he was unsure what had happened on that day, and why Hermione was so important to his very survival, but he knew that since that day, he would always treasure her as a friend. No, that’s wrong. She’s even more than a friend. She’s his companion. He could never ever imagine himself ever being without her at his side. There was no day, since that year… since their first year… that there was ever one not marked by her in some way or form. He just couldn’t imagine getting through a day without her somehow popping into his thoughts or mind. It was completely inconceivable and preposterous.

That feeling of companionship only grew and grew ever since the second year at Hogwarts. The experiences they shared while saving Sirius and using the Time Turner in their third year were one of the many experiences that stood out in his mind, and how she so graciously summoned her Gryffindor courage at that time to come to his aid. She, not Ron, was the one who jumped to help him without a shred of hesitance, and she, not Ron, was the one that was able to completely understand him and his needs at that time. And then there was fact that even though all of the others who called themselves his so-called “friends” couldn’t, she stayed by his side during the Triwizard Tournament in their fourth year. She and she alone believed him when many signs proved otherwise. He would never stop being grateful for what she did… the gift she gave him that year; the gift of true concern, and of undying trust. Those gifts were accumulated over the four years they knew each other, of course, but he knew then and there what it was to feel to be loved and cared for, and to be trusted as a friend.

There wasn’t any point in his memories when he could remember there ever being a taint or black mark in their relationship. It was perfect, this friendship of theirs, and immune to any possible form of tarnishing. Yes, he was fairly certain that if he had any say in the matter, he would never stop being her friend. It was her friendship, after all, that saved him from his oppressing upbringing. In Hermione he learned what and how it was to be loved. In Hermione, he learned the true meaning of companionship.

All of these observations managed to occur over a span of a matter of seconds, and before long he managed to look back up at her face and grin widely, just like before when he read Dumbledore’s note. He smiled up at her with the amount of joy and appreciation he had for their relationship, and the depth of her concern. He smiled for the way she could make always him smile, just like right now, and the way she could look underneath the surface and see who he really was. And, most of all, he smiled at her for just being herself. For being Hermione Granger, his dearest companion.

* * *

Hermione couldn’t help but feel like she would almost literally melt at the sight of her best friend, Harry Potter, standing there at his doorway.

Last year, she had managed to take notice in the change of her best friend’s appearance and how Quidditch, and many of his various other activities, had managed to carve some very eye-attracting features out of his skinny body, making him look as handsome as ever. Then there were, of course, those eyes. Those dazzling emerald eyes that could make her stand and stare for hours. Even then, she felt her knees begin to buckle, but tried her best to remain calm and poised.

In addition to all of this, she has also managed to observe that since the battle at the Ministry, Harry had somehow become even more gorgeous, unless it was her mind playing tricks on her.

She had, for a very long time harbored secret feelings for her best friend, but because of the things he had to deal with, and the position that he seemed to have needed her for, a helpful and resourceful friend, she always kept those feelings under the surface. But, ever since she met him, those feelings were always there, waiting and hoping for the moment she could release them.

Yes, that fated day in the train, when both of them met for the first time. She knew he was special. It didn’t matter if he was the bloody Boy-Who-Lived many people made him to be, savior of the Wizarding World, or not. No, very much the opposite. He was special because of the unique personality he had and the care he gave others before himself. She didn’t care about his looks (but she had to admit, she was definitely thankful at how easy he was to look at). She’d love him without them, because his very being is what she so dearly needed and adored. Ever since they met, she felt a connection, a companionship with Harry Potter. That feeling, most of all, was what really made Harry Potter special in her eyes. It was a feeling she shared with no one else, a feeling of mutual understanding and concern. Harry knew what she was thinking, and she knew what he was thinking, and they sacrificed their time and care for each other in the name of their friendship.

That, of course, was what made her to later believe in their third year that the connection they shared was not just companionship, but something more. Something much more. Of course, though, her best friend, Harry, needed her as a friend, so she would always keep those feelings hidden inside. Hoping for the day that she can let them out, because she was very sure in her heart that there wasn’t anyone else she could express them to. There was no one else she could ever love except for the young boy standing in front of her.

The young man standing in front of her was who she gave her heart to all those years ago on the train, a gift for him, and him alone.

She couldn’t possibly imagine what would happen if he were to leave her life. She had sacrificed so much of her heart to him that she really didn’t have any idea how much there was left to give to anyone else. The love she felt for him was so completely pure and inherently magical that it could honestly not be fragmented or simply forgotten.

Why is my body doing this? Why can’t I just shrug it off like I did last year? Why is it coming back like this now? She forced her thoughts to cease, and tried to straighten her pose. Her best friend needed her, and if this was all she could do to help him, then it was what she had to do. She can’t let her love for him make her vulnerable. It had only happened once before, in fourth year. The utter disappointment she felt that Harry had not approached her to ask her to the Yule Ball forced her to do something completely out-of-character for herself and to accept the first offer she received, from Viktor Krum. There was nothing there, just a slight hopeful and pathetic attempt to try and instill jealousy in her best friend. She can’t let that happen again. She’ll help him, no matter what, even if that means being there for him as a friend.

She then finally realized that over the past few seconds, when she had been examining her best friend, that Harry was himself checking her out. Not having been able to prepare for this realization, she blushed a deep red and tried to glance away. Her body, however, wouldn’t let her, so she simply continued to stare at her best friend’s face, and the cute grin that was now on there. Her beautiful best friend’s face. Stop that! I shouldn’t do this! He needs me now more than ever, and I shouldn’t be distracted like this, Hermione thought.

“Ahem,” the familiar voice of her escort came from behind her, and it was all she could do to stop herself from letting herself break down and tell the world what she was feeling for her best friend. What she had always felt, and what she hopes to always feel, and one day have returned.

* * *

Why is she blushing like that? She can’t think about me like that, can she? Harry thought. Before he could try to think further on this, he heard somebody clear his throat behind Hermione, and he glanced up to surprise himself by seeing that Dumbledore was standing to the right and behind Hermione this whole time.

“Oh, sorry Professor. I didn’t see… you there.” He knew that sounded lame before it even came out of his mouth, but what could he do? His mind was instead concentrating on something… or someone else at the moment, and he couldn’t for the life of him infer to as why he was.

“Of course not, Harry. Before I take my leave, however, and leave you two to your devices, I would like to discuss something with the two of you. May I come in?”

All he could do was nod as he continued to stare at Hermione, still trying to figure out why he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Even though he had always thought of her as a friend and nothing more for his first few years, he began to notice more of Hermione three years ago in third year, but why is it so much stronger now? Could it be because…? Before his mind could come to the conclusion it was going to, his mind and body froze as it began to remember the events at the Ministry. Before he could stop himself, tears were running down his face. Sirius….

* * *

As Dumbledore began to walk inside, Hermione began to become more and more nervous and was shocked to see that Harry was still staring at her. Would he stop doing that? I’m not going to be able to control myself soon!

I have to get a hold of myself! Hermione thought and then glanced away. She suddenly, however, heard somebody weeping and glanced back up at Harry to see him crying. She was shocked. What happened? He looked so happy earlier.

Before she knew what she was doing, she embraced Harry with one of the warmest hugs she could give him. After a few minutes, he visibly calmed down as his body ceased to be tensed, and looked admirably up at her. “Sorry, Hermione. I don’t know what came over me. I was looking at you, and then the next second I began to remember….”

Placing a soft finger on his lips, she said, “Shush, Harry. You don’t have to explain yourself. Come on. Let’s go inside and see what Dumbledore wants.” She was about to drag him out and to the kitchen where Dumbledore had managed to situate himself comfortably in one of the chairs when suddenly Harry stopped her. She looked up at him confused.

“Don’t go yet. I didn’t get a chance to greet you yet, Hermione.” The look of anguish was gone from his face, and now an unknown demeanor covered it, a mixture between happiness, confusion, and… something else.

He stood back and turned away. She instantly felt something incomplete when he left their embrace, but looked up waiting to see what Harry was going to do. He suddenly twirled around to look back at her, “Hello Hermione!” A huge corny grin was planted on his face.

She giggled suddenly, and then when she realized she did something so out-of-character she stopped herself and finished with a laugh, “Harry, you know you don’t have to do that. Come on, let’s go inside!” She took his hand and without another thought she took him over to the kitchen where Dumbledore was waiting. Once her eyes made their way to the table, however, she stopped and looked up with a grin to Harry, “Do I even have to ask who made the food?”

Harry grinned in reply, and shook his head. She rolled her eyes, but before continuing over to the table she said, almost breathlessly, “Thank you, Harry.” Little things like this, little presentations of his understanding and concern for her, were only a fraction of things that she so adored about him.

When they reached the table, Hermione suddenly realized that her hand was grasping Harry’s, quite ardently. She, once again, blushed, and escaped his grasp, sitting down at one of the empty chairs. Harry made his way to another one opposite her chair. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was sitting to their right.

“Well, then, now that you both seemed to have welcomed each other,” he looked to both of them in turn with an amusing twinkle in his eyes, “There is something very important that I must discuss with you.

“As you may or may not know, the Ministry has now fully accepted Lord Voldemort’s return and has printed a great deal of apologies to all those they insulted over the past year in their latest issue of the Daily Prophet, including you, Harry, and Ms. Granger here. Since Hogwarts is now no longer under the ‘watchful eye’ of the Ministry, I have their permission to handle its security as I see fit. One of the first things that I have decided to do was to issue an additional Prefect to each house, and to also replace those who have abused the power they had received last year.” He looked at the two of them with a knowing and inferring look, but then continued, “We must have no room for flaws in the security of our school this year, as you may know, and I have now made the decision that I should have made a year ago. Will you accept this, Harry, and my apologies for the way I treated you last year?”

While speaking, Dumbledore took out a small and clothed object from his pocket and uncovered it to reveal a Gryffindor’s Prefect Badge. “I could have waited until the letters with your OWL results came out later on into the summer, but I thought that it would be more appropriate that you got this from me. Besides, it wouldn’t do to exhaust some poor owl with the extra weight.”

Harry’s signature grin returned and he said, “Of course, Professor, I will accept this badge. You should know, though, that I forgave you long ago for what you did for me.” Dumbledore, in return, smiled at him and reached over to hand him the badge, which he gracefully took from his grasp, the grin he was wearing threatening to break open his face.

“There is, however, more to discuss.

“Apart from matters and security at school, which you will learn more about once you return in September, I have also decided to make the decision to provide training to you at Hogwarts, and this time I will personally overlook your training of Occulmency. We will speak more of this in September, or possibly in late August, but for now I think that both of you should try your best to make the most of this summer. It’s not called a break for nothing. I also hope that both of you won’t be worrying too much of your summer schoolwork, either.” When he spoke the last sentence, his glance stopped at Hermione, which caused her to uncharacteristically blush, once again. Harry, on the other hand, was practically beaming with excitement at how great his summer and school year were going to both be. “I am assuming, Harry and Hermione, that both of you will continue on your summer break at your parent’s home, Hermione?” She nodded so he smiled and said, “Then I hope to see you in good health at the end of August.”

Dumbledore got up from his chair and looked about ready to leave. However, before he began to walk out of the kitchen, he suddenly seemed to remember something, “Oh, before I forget,” he took out his wand and swished it around in a complex maneuvering when at last he said, “Theca Quod Occulto.” The entire air around them seemed to sizzle and shimmer and then just like that it was gone. “I have also decided that you two deserve the chance to be able to use magic while in this house. Please don’t abuse that ability. It’s only if worse comes to worse, or if you are in dire need of it. Oh, and I would greatly appreciate it if either of you two not mention this to the Ministry. I may have been reinstated back on their good side, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still be cast aside again.” The twinkle in his eye as he looked to the two of them couldn’t seem to get any more intense. “I will visit you at the Granger’s home early August to be able to cast upon the same concealing spell over their home.

“Now then, I think that cues my time to leave. Good day, then.” He nodded to both of them, and then went to the door. However, before he suddenly disapparated with a pop, he spoke up somewhat loudly for them to hear, “Oh, and if there is anything you need, please take the time to owl me.”

* * *

Harry couldn’t keep all the happiness he felt under wraps inside of him. He felt himself grinning uncontrollably, and also couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t know he was holding. Dumbledore came here not to warn him, or to give him bad news, but to give him good news, news he will cherish for the rest of the summer. And some of that news was the fact he could use magic this summer! That’ll definitely make things much easier for him, especially in the area regarding his guardians.

Then there was the issue of the young girl beside him. Why was his body doing this to him: making him both nervous and extremely excited to be in her presence, all at the same time? He couldn’t even stop himself from drawing closer to her as she sat there on the chair at the opposite side of the table, seemingly staring off into space. His body had a whole mind of its own, and seemed literally attracted to her as if it was iron filings being attracted to a magnet.

When he realized just what he was doing, and that Hermione had suddenly locked gazes with him, he felt his cheeks heat up, and he began to stutter as he tried to quickly think up what he could do to explain his intentions, “I-I’m so excited that you’re here, Hermione. I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you, and worried about you, since school has been out.”

The grin on Hermione’s face grew as she replied, “Me too, Harry. How have you been holding up… so far, you know... about…?” She trailed off, and looked as if she was frustrated at being at a loss of words, which Harry realized was definitely a first, but she managed to concentrate enough to be able to cover his hand with her own, showing him her care and affection towards him as a friend quite clearly.

“Don’t worry Hermione, I know what you’re talking about. I guess it still hurts. It sometimes comes back to me, like it did out by the door, and I just can’t control myself…I have to let my misery come out somehow.

“And, I just want to thank you about how you helped me earlier. You really saved me from doing something I might regret in front of our favorite headmaster.” He forced himself to grin, and was happy to see Hermione had done so in return.

“It wasn’t a problem at all, Harry. You’ve always been there for me, so why shouldn’t I be there for you too?” Hermione asked, and continued to look at him, sincerity and concern in her eyes.

As Harry stared into Hermione’s brown eyes, he felt himself completely devoted to just continue staring and never to break his gaze. Apparently, neither did Hermione wish to look away, either, because both of them stayed staring at each other’s eyes for several minutes until Hermione seemed to break out of her trance and looked down at the food, “Oh, yeah, breakfast! Let’s eat! I didn’t get a chance to really eat anything suitable this morning before I was picked up.”

She smiled up at him, took her hand away, and then looked down to see that he wasn’t eating, “Well?”

Harry was still staring at her, and only could nod and slightly grin at her before he tucked in and began to eat breakfast. As both were nearing the end of their breakfast, they both realized that neither one nor the other had seemed to talk to each other the entire time. Harry, however, wasn’t quite as surprised as he could have been because he has always had these comfortable silences with Hermione where both of them could feel at peace just in each other’s presence.

He suddenly began to think then again about the way he felt when he saw Hermione come into his home, as well as for a long time before that. Why? Could it be… could it be that he was falling for his best friend? Sure, he’s felt what he could possibly describe as being love in the presence of the Weasley family who had done nothing but care for him ever since they met him. But as a person, he barely knew what love even was. His parents must have loved him, but he barely remembered anything regarding how it felt to be loved or to love.

Could he actually love Hermione?

He looked up at her, and felt that feeling return, as strong as ever. The brown curls of her hair, now not as bushy as it was a few years ago, cascaded and made its way down the side of her face to gracefully stop at her shoulders. Her chocolate brown eyes beheld a very distinct gleam that made them look so much more ethereal. God, she’s beautiful. He heard his mind think that statement over and over, as if trying to engrave it inside of his mind. And as if she could hear himself think, she looked up at him with a confused look in her face, “Harry? What’s wrong?” The uplifting feeling inside of him seemed to grow even further, and he had to take a breath before continuing.

Harry shook his head and said, “Nothing. I was just admiring how much better your hair looks now than it did a few years ago.” He couldn’t seem to control the words coming out of his mouth, and hoped with all of his being that he didn’t sound as lame as he thought he did.

Hermione blushed and smiled in return, and then looked down at her plate, which was now empty. She looked back up at him and said, “Well, I’m done eating. What can we do now?”

Harry stood up from his seat, gathered up his and Hermione’s plate and went over to the sink to clean them. While doing so, he let out a sigh of relief, thankful that Hermione didn’t seem to notice anything out-of-the-ordinary. As he was cleaning the plates, he went to grab the glasses off of the table so he could clean them as well, and as he was beginning to squeeze out dish detergent on the glasses and plates in the sink, he said, “I’m not sure. I guess we could go up to my room and see to your belongings first. Oh, wait, where are your things?” He looked back at her, waiting for her answer.

“Dumbledore had them before we came. He probably magicked them up to your room. Well, at least I hope he did… he would have, right?”

He looked at her as a very worried look came over her face, and then began to laugh, “Oh, Hermione, you worry too much. Yeah, he probably would have. Let me just finish cleaning these up, and then—” Before he could finish, however, he felt someone else’s body heat beginning to warm his back as a hand poked up from behind him to grab the plate that was in his hands, “Please, let me help. I don’t want you to have to suffer more this summer because of me. You already have enough problems as it is.”

Her hot breath was driving him crazy as it periodically brushed against the back of his neck. Trying to hide the fact he was blushing from her, and beginning to breath very raggedly, he replied, “Sure, as long as you’re helping and not doing it all.” He moved aside, quite reluctantly, and made room for her to help him. When they were done, and after they dried their hands, they walked upstairs to Harry’s room.

As they made their way up the stairs, their fingertips threatened to brush amongst each other as they climbed each step one at a time, keeping barely an inch between themselves. When the room came in sight, Hermione walked in first, and smiled, “Wow, it’s not as messy as I thought it would be.”

He playfully scowled at her, “Oh, you think I’m messy and unorganized, do you? Guess, what, Mione, I’ve actually been doing some homework since I’ve came back from summer!” He put up his head proudly, as if showing off his victory to have done something worth congratulating, and grinned.

She raised an eyebrow, “Mione’?”

He immediately blushed, lost his composure, and said, “Oh, sorry. It just sort of came out. I didn’t mean to say it! I’ll stop.”

She giggled, “No, don’t stop. It’s cute. I wouldn’t be very happy, though, if anyone else were to start calling me that.” Her eyes immediately widened, but she looked away before he could decipher to the reason of her mysterious actions.

Hermione looked over to the corner, and smiled after she recognized her trunk, and Crookshanks cuddled next to it, obviously sleeping. Harry followed her gaze and said, “Now that I think about it, I only have one bed here. I guess you’ll have to use it and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he motioned to the carpeted floor below him as he was speaking.

Hermione glared at him somewhat angrily and said, “Absolutely not, Harry James Potter! Remember what I said downstairs? We… we… we can both sleep in the same bed. We’re old enough to be mature about something like this… right?” For the second time that day, Hermione had a strange look on her face as if she was angry with being at a loss of words, but she also held another undecipherable emotion.

Harry then realized that this means he’ll be sleeping with Hermione in his bed… who’ll be next to him. That means that her body will be near his while he sleeps. How am I going to control myself this summer? He forced himself to nod and said, “Of course.” She seemed to visibly relax, but still held a strange hard-to-read expression. His body, on the other hand, was not relaxing. No, quite the opposite. The strange feeling he had been sheltering for so long was driving him crazy and making him feel very light-headed.

“Well, then, since it looks like everything is in order up here, would you like to go for a walk? I’d like to see the rest of your neighborhood. Dumbledore and I had portkeyed here, so I didn’t get a chance to see any of it.”

He looked to her face and nodded, smiling at the thought at being able to have a simple walk with his friend, in the muggle world, for the first time ever. The friend he might possibly be falling in love with. He also, then, realized that ever since she has been here, he has almost completely forgotten about what had happened before the summer had begun.

Then, just like that, the thought began to cloud his mind and he felt fear-invoking images begin to crowd his head, memories of that terrible day.

With just one glance over to Hermione, however, those feelings began to dissipate. What was it about her that did that? Why could Hermione make him feel so much more… peaceful… just like that? Oh, please Merlin… let her always be my friend. She doesn’t know just how much I need her… how much I want her to always remain with me.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here you go; chapter two! I might try and upload the third chapter, but let's see how much I can manage. Model UN is finally over! :D Thank you to the following reviewers for your helpful and insightful reviews on the Forword/Other Words and Chapter One of the story: HermioneRae, Sara, Alphamatrix, Fan799, Teganii, Korval, arkenstone007, frostykist, vlbuehle, ChristiGale, sakura_txell, brentdax, Mage_13, DarkPhoenix, Anon, MyUsedRomance, Katherine, autumnRose, DJ32, mannequin, mrrlyn42, roadkill2105, Erin, NacNud, seleene_paris (I'll try and e-mail you right after I upload this!), harryandhermione4eva18, pottergrangerfan, Zeelthor, and Mike. I, however, would like to warn those of you out there who have been using the review discussion to advertise your opinions (however valid as they may be) and not actually reviewing my story. Thanks again!

Edit: This chapter has been heavily revised as of July 7th, 2007.

3. The Ties of Friendship

Hermione Granger was on the verge of losing her mind. Ever since she has found herself alone in the presence of her best friend, Harry James Potter, she has been in an utter and continuous state of suffering as she tried to bury the more-than-platonic feelings she had for him. What has happened to me? I’ve never needed to try so hard to hide my feelings like I am now. Could it be because of the near-death experiences we had experienced before the summer began? If this continues, I am going to have to be forced to tell him how I feel, or otherwise I’ll break down from this feeling of emptiness inside of me. Please Merlin. Please let him love me in return.

She then managed to get herself to look back at the man she so dearly loved, the man whose grin seemed to have no end, she noticed, and that fact alone made her spirits lift all the more higher. They were walking, close and side-by-side, down the sidewalk of Privet Drive in the community of Little Whinging.

They were nearing a part of the road where the left side of the road forked off into that same direction, forming another road not unlike Privet Drive where nearly identical houses were closely packed together. Without hesitating, she followed Harry down that road, a smile beginning to form on her face as she saw the sun poking out from the clouds, giving the day a better mood and atmosphere. When queried about the name of the street, Harry told Hermione that it was called “Wisteria Walk.”

Looking down at their hands, Hermione realized that they were getting closer and closer as they continued to walk down Wisteria Walk, and before she could stop herself, her hand had brushed alongside Harry’s, almost forcefully. Looking up at his face in slight anxiety, she was happy to see that he didn’t seem to have noticed her. Then, almost suddenly, her hand was in his.

It didn’t take long for a blush to form on her face. What is he doing? She thought, but then heard herself reply: what you wanted him to do. Her breathing began to become more and more strained, and she was unsure how she was managing to keep herself calm when she had so many fireworks going off in her body.

Surely he’s just doing this in a friendly manner. Yes, that must be it. She finished her debate in her mind. However, a certain part of her mind, and her heart, thought quite differently. Just as well, she felt content as they continued to walk down the peaceful Wisteria Walk, hand-in-hand without any worries in the world.

Not even if Lord Voldemort himself were to suddenly appear would the happiness these two children felt completely dissipate into thin air.

* * *

Sometime later, after they had traveled along a couple of other streets in Little Whinging (when asked, Harry told her they were called “Magnolia Road,” and “Magnolia Crescent”), the two found themselves face-to-face with a very peaceful-looking park. A short distance away, Hermione could discern that there was a small and bordered play area underlined with gravel, and occupied by a swing set. Since she could see no one there, she giggled and dragged herself and Harry, in a run, to the play area where she quickly sat herself into one of the swings, and soon found that Harry had sat in the other one.

Hermione began to swing higher and higher, emitting uncharacteristic giggles along the way, and a happy-looking Harry Potter followed suit.

There the two best friends found themselves for a great deal of time. Without the two of them realizing, so involved in their undisturbed and effervesce bubble of existence, the sun was beginning to fall, and the evening was almost upon them.

Harry was the first to bring the both of them back into reality, “Hermione, I think that we should be getting back. It’s going to be getting dark soon.” Hermione looked at him, looking frustrated like any kid would when told they had to abandon something that was exciting, and then said, “Of course, Harry. Let’s get going.”

Along the way back to 4 Privet Drive, Hermione glanced up to Harry and said, “I was actually thinking, Harry. Once we get back, we’ll no doubt eventually find ourselves back into your room. I was thinking that we could perhaps try and practice for Transfiguration by trying to make your bed, and other furniture, slightly more… useable,” With a slight frown, and a short pause, she continued, “And I don’t mean this, by any means, in a bad way. I just think that, like I said before, you shouldn’t have to suffer this summer as much as you used to. I’m here to help, remember! And the fact we can use magic makes this summer that so much more exciting.” She ended her speech with a huge grin, and after seeing this Harry couldn’t help but grin back.

“Of course, Hermione. I was actually thinking we could try and practice more and do some homework when we can before we go back to your parent’s house,” he replied as easily as if he was talking about the weather, and that along with what he said made Hermione stare at him in shock.

“Did you just mention homework, and summer, in the same sentence… willingly?” Hermione eyed him questionably, and was almost somewhat scared of his response.

“Well, yes. The battle at the Ministry sort of got me thinking that maybe I have been paying very little attention to what’s important lately. If I had been stronger and smarter, and maybe a bit wiser, I’d not have done the same mistakes that I had last year, and all those years before. I need to be strong when I fight Voldemort again.

“And, of course, I have you to thanks for all of the comments you made to me about my study habits. They seem to have finally broken through to me.” He looked at her with so much care in his eyes that Hermione couldn’t help but blush, and thus glance away. They were now both standing there in the middle of Privet Drive and were no longer walking.

“Mione?”

She still felt the heat in her cheeks, so she nodded to show she was listening, “Yes, Harry?”

“I didn’t really get a chance… to actually… to thank you.”

“For what?” She was very confused now, and didn’t care how she looked like when she looked into his eyes, searching for the source of his sudden shift in emotions.

She was shocked to see how much sincerity those two glossy orbs held within them, and the depth of their concern, “For always being there for me… for being my friend in the first place. Just for being you, Hermione. You-you’re the light that keeps me going.”

Hermione immediately knew that Harry was being completely honest with her, and she knew that in that single moment, she fell even deeper in love with her best friend, if that was even possible.

“What about the others, like Ron?” Hermione dared to ask.

“Hermione, you don’t understand. Ron may be my friend, but he, or anyone else at that matter, has never been as caring and understanding of me than you have since we have met each other on that train so many years ago. I may think of Ron as a friend, but you are the only one I could call my companion.”

Hermione wasn’t the least upset that she asked him now, and she then realized just how important their bond was. Their bond of friendship. She would give everything else away just to be able to keep that friendship forever. Even if they were friends forever and nothing more than that, she’d still be content.

However, she then become conscious of the fact that if they ever did become more than friends, she’d certainly be the happiest person in the world.

“Harry, I feel the same about you. I never did say thank you either… thank you for being a friend to me all these years Harry. For sticking close to me when no one else did. Thank you for believing in me, and putting up with me, and finally, thank you for being my companion, like you said I am to you.” She continued to stare at his eyes, and tried her best to mimic his sincerity and concern.

She felt butterflies in her stomach when Harry replied, “You don’t have to thank me, Hermione. What you’ve done for me spoke those words and more.”

* * *

After expressing the depth of their concern and appreciation for each other, both Harry and Hermione managed to drag their glances away from each other and had managed to make it back to 4 Privet Drive soon after. Once they entered into the home, Harry immediately realized that his uncle and aunt must have returned as he could hear other people in the house.

He eyed Hermione, and said quietly to her, “My aunt and uncle must be back. Come on, let’s go and tell them about what’s happening this summer.” Before he could go, however, she felt Hermione’s gentle hands grasp his arm, “Harry, don’t be scared to use your magic to try and make them understand that they can’t push you around. And remember, I’ll be right there behind you to help in any way I can.”

After looking at her for a moment and seeing the great deal of care and affection her eyes and body were emanating, he nodded and said, “Thanks, Hermione. Come on, let’s go.” Harry was finally allowed to go and find his uncle and aunt. This task didn’t seem to prove itself to be difficult because as soon as they had entered the kitchen they were unfortunate enough to have their eyes land on a plump Dudley and his Uncle Vernon filling their mouths with food, and an irritated-looking Aunt Petunia, seemingly eyeing Harry and the girl besides him.

Once Dudley and his uncle realized the addition of another presence, they glared at the two of them. After clearing his mouth of any excess food, Vernon yelled out in a frustrated tone, “Who is this girl, boy? There better not be any funny business going on between you two under my house! I will not stand for it!”

Harry and Hermione blushed, but Harry immediately replied, “This girl is my best friend Hermione Granger, who is a student from my school, and for your information she is staying the summer with me here. She is also definitely not partaking in any sort of funny business.” After emphasizing the many points of his reply, he was glad to see that he had managed to make all three of his relatives look at the two of them in shock and fear.

“What? Two of you freaks under my roof? This is outrageous! Get out of this house, boy, and take that cow with you!” Uncle Vernon was practically steaming now, and Harry was using all of his willpower to avoid his anger from going out of control.

“I hope that you’re aware, uncle, that I have no say in the matter on whether or not I can leave the confines of this home, and if I could leave I would have done so many years ago and left your so-called ‘care’ behind. I also hope you’re aware of the fact that I and Hermione here beside me now have the ability to use magic, so maybe you should be more cautious when you’re around us.”

Hermione beamed at him appreciatively, as if thanking him he did not go to any extremes. He nodded in return, and stared back at his uncle, awaiting his reply. After a few minutes of strained silence, his uncle replied, “Are you trying to yank my chain, boy? I know that your bloody magic government or whatnot doesn’t allow you to use magic out of school until you’re of age.”

Harry stood tall and straight and grinned mischievously in response, “I was given special permission this year to be able to use magic.”

His aunt and cousin eyed him fearfully, but at the same time slightly deniably. Uncle Vernon finally said, “Prove it.”

Taking hold of the wand he was carrying inside his jean pockets, he raised it up and pointed it towards the jar that was behind Aunt Petunia. Without any hesitation, he muttered “Reducto,” and watched as his curse flew out towards the jar behind Aunt Petunia, who visibly flinched, reducing the jar to rubble and shards of clay. His relatives now glared at him and shrunk back in fear, apparently very afraid to invoke his wrath.

Hermione looked at in sympathy, and flicked her own wand towards the rubble, “Reparo.” The jar returned to its normal form in the blink of an eye.

“I think that I deserve my own voice in this matter. Like Harry said, I’m his best friend. I also really do think as his guardians, he deserves much more respect from people like you. Even if you might not be capable of kindness towards him, can’t you at least make him feel at home? Do you even know what he has on his shoulders? A killer is chasing him down, and you treat him like trash! You three are pathetic.”

Harry had never ever seen his aunt, uncle, and cousin look so horrified, as if Death himself were staring them down. He also never seen Hermione so angered at anyone ever before. Feeling like he did enough harm as it is, he lightly grasped Hermione’s hand and smiled at her, trying to show her his thanks for what she was doing for him. She smiled back at him, but then glared angrily at his guardians again, an evil-like glare in her eyes, “With or without your consent, I am staying with Harry in your home. It’s the least you could do for him. You have already stripped him of a childhood, so why not make up for your mistakes and actually act like guardians?”

As if they both could understand each other without any form of communication, they both turned away at the same time and stormed off, not waiting for any sort of response from Harry’s horror-struck guardians.

* * *

Harry could still not believe the aggressiveness his best friend has showed towards his guardians, and for his cause further more. His heart fluttered again, and he felt mysteriously complete and overwhelmed with happiness at the same time. Looking at Hermione beside him as they climbed up the stairs only amplified this feeling.

The conversation he had with Hermione while they were walking replayed through his mind. He didn’t realize it until then, when he was walking with Hermione through his neighborhood, just how deep a friendship that he had with Hermione, and how much they were connected and bonded together. Sure, he may have thought of it before, but seeing her walking beside him, and the feeling of completeness he felt beside her, made the thought concrete.

He grinned, and was thankful that he had managed to dig out that Gryffindor courage from inside himself to be able to show her the amount of gratitude that he had of her friendship with him. He was also surprised how he managed to extract enough courage from inside himself to be able to grasp and hold her hand while they were walking down the street. He dearly hoped that she hadn’t thought it was awkward. That’s the last thing I need right now.

He was now surer than ever before about one particular fact regarding the girl beside him. Despite knowing very little about the nature of love, he felt more confident than anything he had ever known that the girl beside him would be the only girl he could ever love. The amount of completeness and the happiness he felt around her, and had felt around her ever since they met and became friends, was evidence of that. He did not ever feel that sort of feeling when he was beside Ron, or anyone else he knew. This was a feeling unique to them, and he knew now that he could never find that sort of completeness with anyone else. He loved Hermione Granger.

He had come to this conclusion while walking with Hermione through Little Whinging. That entire time, he was thinking. He was thinking back to all of the experiences he had ever shared with Hermione, all of the times they seemed to almost be completely in sync with each other, and all of the times he remembered being awed by her presence and intelligence (which he, at the time, realized was quite a number).

This was much more than anything he had felt for that Cho Chang. That was simply a crush, and a foolish one at that. This is much more. This is love, and there was no one else that could make him feel more absolute than Hermione Granger. She was the girl of his dreams, and nobody else can say anything to change his mind. She was the girl he couldn’t ever imagine being without in his future.

What am I going to do? I hope more than anything that she loves me back. If not, then the already unique friendship that we now have would be enough… as long as I’m with her. Oh, Hermione, if only you knew how much you meant to me. I promise you, I’ll tell you one day, but if it could risk our friendship, I’d rather wait and hope for the time when it would sound right if I told you: I love you, Hermione Granger, with all my heart.

* * *

Hermione suddenly had the strangest feeling that someone was speaking to her… telling her something very important. It started as a strange curl up her back, but evolved into a strange itchy feeling at the back of her head. Apart from that, she just knew in her heart that someone was trying to communicate with her. She looked over to Harry beside him. He seemed to be thinking about something, so she didn’t interrupt him and just waited for him to come out of it himself while waiting beside his bedroom door.

Harry eventually put his head up and stared at her, “Hermione?”

The feeling came back, lightly but still identical to the first feeling she had when she felt someone communicating with her. It hit her. Could that person be Harry? What was he trying to say to her, and why did it feel like this? She’s certainly read a number of books regarding the subject of telepathy and non-verbal magical communication, but she’s never heard of something like this. She silently sighed, making up her mind to think about it later. Her mind was probably just playing tricks with her.

She grinned at Harry, and replied, “You were thinking about something, so I was just waiting for you.”

He frowned slightly and said, “Sorry, I just sort of zoned out. I was just thinking about what could… happen in the future. You know. What we could be doing years from now.”

She drew her eyebrows together in an expression of confusion, “The future? You don’t tend to talk a lot about it. I guess if we do manage to make it through this mess, which I’m fairly confident we will,” she grinned at him, “I think that whatever we both decide to do, we do together.”

He nodded, “I think so too. I can’t imagine ever being without y—.”

Hermione froze. Was he going to say what I thought he was going to say?

“I just can’t imagine ever not being friends with you, you know?” He made a nervous face and looked away, going into his room.

She looked past him and stared into space. Does this mean what I think it means? I shouldn’t put too much hope in it, but if it is, thank you Merlin!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, an update. I would highly recommend anyone who has been keeping up with this story from before to go back and reread the first few chapters! I've completely revised the Foreword, the first chapter, the second chapter, and the third chapter. Enjoy.

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4. The Power of Connections

Harry almost ran into his bedroom, his heart racing at an unaccountable rate. He almost let his feelings for Hermione slip out into the open, and he honestly doubted that she didn’t notice. She was always more observant than she ought to be, noticing things that others tend not to see. However, as he thought about it further… wasn’t that was just one of those small little peculiarities about her that he always seemed to enjoy? Wasn’t it something that has always seemed to help him in the past?

Why does everything have to be so difficult now? Now that I have come to terms that the friendship I have been sharing with my friend for all these years has managed to grow into love, why does everything between us have to be so much more intricate and complicated? So awkward? The only thing he could do, he supposed, was to just have to be more careful from now on. Even then, though, he was unsure of his ability to do so. How can I go on much longer, keeping this love I have inside of me for her, without telling her? I want to mark her as my own, as possessive as that may sound, but it’s the only way I can truly be happy… knowing that I know she knows of my love for her, and that she loves me in return. Why can’t things be as easy as that? Why can’t I just come up to her, and proclaim to her and the heavens above me of the love I have for her? Why can’t she just tell me she loves and make it all that much easier?

He still couldn’t believe just how much things have changed over the past day. He had come to a deep and inevitable realization regarding the young girl standing outside his room. After being friends with her for so long, and gradually forming a bond with her that made them practically in sync with each other, he had come to realize that he loved her… cared for her more than that of a friend. He needed her… needed to be beside her, to feel her appreciation for being in her presence, to have her there to tell her it was alright when things were threatening to fall down around him, and to just be able to have her beside him for the rest of his life. It wasn’t a matter of possessiveness. No, much the opposite. It was a matter of survival… of great need. She was his lifeline; no, he needed her more than life itself.

Harry’s upbringing was far from normal. He was initially born into a loving family: he had two parents, both wizards and very honorable ones at that, who loved him unendingly. The love he must have felt within such a family, Harry had no recollection whatsoever of. Instead, he was utterly doomed to have his parents ripped away from him, and to be put under the so-called “guardianship” of his uncle and aunt. There, no love was shown to him. The “connection” that existed between his aunt and uncle seemed to barely exist, and the care they gave him fostered hatred and loathing, not appreciation, care, and a blossoming feeling of love which he deserved to have, just like all of the other normal human beings he lived with.

When he had come to be eleven, he was finally shown what love could be. The Weasley family was his first such presentation of love: in their intricately, yet fundamentally simple, networked family he was shocked to see a measure of caring and understanding shared between all of the members of their family that he was never fortunate enough to experience or see in his own childhood. They were concerned with each other with a mind-numbing ferocity that shook him to his very core, and made him see, as if a spotlight was finally put in front of his being for the first time in his life, a speck of light in the darkness he was forced to grow up in. He saw love for the very first time.

Later, he had come to find the care and understanding that could be shared between friends. His friend, Ronald Weasley, was somebody he came to care about, concern himself with, and ultimately share most of his experiences with. He was a brother he always wished he had: he was a person that you could come to for help, or simply someone that you could relax and be comfortable with. The interests they shared, most prominent of them being the game of Quiddich, was also another thing that connected them in ways he could never connect himself with others he knew. At a very essential level, they were instructors to each other, people who taught each other the wonders of life, and some of its nitty-gritty guidelines. Without Ron Weasley in his life once he came to Hogwarts, he didn’t know how he would have came out to be.

Then there was Hermione Granger. What could he say about her that he already didn’t have to say? They found each other on that train, that first day on the Hogwarts Express, and ever since then there were no words that could describe the correlation and link that they shared. In Hermione, he learned the true meaning of love. In Hermione, he found his other half.

If she ever does ask me, I’ll have to tell her the truth. I promise myself that. The friendship they shared was important, but a chance to be with her, to have her in his arms everyday he woke up for the rest of his life, was far more important than a chance to keep their friendship together. The possibility of her being his… of them sharing a life together in the future… was becoming a beacon of sorts for him, driving him on and making him dismiss the former fears he had of dying. He would win. For her.

Once he reached his bed, he practically jumped onto it, and sat down, waiting for his best friend to follow. Having no need to worry, he saw that immediately after he made himself comfortable on the bed, she was making her way towards him where she, without any sort of hesitance, sat down beside him.

“So, now what?” Hermione asked. It was a simple question. It held no tone of sarcasm, nor any underlying questions. It held no awkwardness, nor any sort of fear. It was just like she would have asked him the same question weeks ago. She sure doesn’t sound any different. Maybe she chose to simply ignore it, or think nothing of it. I dearly hope so, for both of our sakes. Even if he wished to have a future with her, he didn’t wish to completely erase the chance they had for innocently being in each other’s presence that first week of summer.

“Well, we could always try out some of that transfiguration you mentioned earlier. Oh, before we do that, however,” Harry took his wand out from his pocket and aimed it at the door. Pronouncing each syllable of the incantation with care, he stated, “Colloportus.” His bedroom door immediately sealed itself closed with a squelching sound, and immediately after this he said, “Obfirmostium,” which resulted in the lock mechanism of the door making a soft click, identifying the door to now be locked. Smiling at his noteworthy display of spell-casting, he looked to Hermione for her response. She eyed him proudly, but asked him, “Doesn’t your uncle have the key?”

With a passive look of thought, he replied, “I suppose so. Any ideas?”

She grinned back at him and nodded. She took her own wand out and, aiming it at the door, pronounced, “Repello.” The end of her wand sent out a strange misty fog that made its way to the door and enveloped it, soon after that disappearing.

Harry eyed her questioningly, “When did you learn to cast a Repelling Charm?”

She grinned widely, “I was reading ahead before I got here. That’s the first time I’ve tried it. It’ll hopefully always make your relatives suddenly want to go do something else when they get near your door.”

He chuckled and shook his head at her, “Hermione, you never fail to amaze me. You really are the ‘brightest witch of your age.’”

She blushed and continued to grin, but then said, “Harry, you don’t realize that you could be just as smart as me. You just have to apply yourself to your studies and be adamant in wanting to learn.” Returning to her very studious posture and tone of voice, she eyed him down with an analytical sort of gaze.

Harry stared off for a few minutes, and then nodded, “Then that’s what I plan to do this year. No matter what, I’m concentrating on my schoolwork and training. But you should know, Mione, that no matter how hard I try, and this even applies to anyone else in our grade for that matter, you’ll still be the smartest one of all of us. I have every bit of confidence that you would.”

Hermione smiled at him, and nodded, “You don’t have to flatter me to make me feel happy, Harry. You make me happy by just being y—”

“Before you finish, Hermione, I want you to know: I’m being completely honest with you.” The sincerity he showed, once again in his eyes, stopped Hermione from finishing her sentence, and to instead try to change the subject, “Well, do you want to practice Transfiguration then?”

He nodded, and pointed towards his wand, “The incantation was ‘Restituo,’ right?”

Still smiling up at him with a very intense gleam in her eye, she nodded, “Alright, so what do you want to change first?”

He thought for a few seconds and then replied, “The bed. I’d like to have a comfortable night for once here.”

She somewhat silently snorted (with practically a grunt of hatred too, Harry noticed, but he didn’t want to point that out to her) and said, “I figured as much. Let’s watch you do it, then.” She got off the bed, somewhat reluctantly he noticed, and stood behind him.

Walking up beside her, they were both now standing side-by-side facing Harry’s bed. Aiming his wand at the bed, and releasing a long breath he was carrying, he said, “Restituo.”

Hopefully I was concentrating hard enough on what I wanted it to change to. And, soon enough, the bed did change into what Harry wanted. It became instantly fluffier and more engorged, and the beds and sheets on it were replaced with much better alternatives. The bed now looked more like the one he had in his Hogwarts dormitory.

Once again, Hermione looked at him as if he had done something wondrous. If this was what would make Hermione look at like this, he definitely wanted to try harder in school now. He would certainly do so to succeed against Lord Voldemort, but he only wanted to be able to succeed so he can come out victorious to be able to please her like this for the rest of his life. The smile on her face was making him dizzy, and made his breathing speed up.

“Good job, Harry! Alright, my turn now.”

She aimed her wand at his end table, which was chipped and seemed to be falling apart, and repeated the same incantation, “Restituo.” The end table immediately changed to one that seemed to be made for royalty, and the clock atop it transformed into a better-looking digital clock. She smiled up at him, and they continued to repeat this process with much of the other furniture that Harry had in his room. Once they were finished, around fifteen minutes later, they both seemed to be exhausted and were lying down, side-by-side, on Harry’s bed that now, Harry realized, felt like he was floating on air.

“You know, Harry, you already seem to be doing better with your Transfiguration. What’d got you so inspired?” The question she gave him, as innocent as it was, had managed to make Harry almost let out his deeply-kept secret once again. He stopped himself before he was going to say “you,” and instead said, “Like I said before, I want to try harder from now on. I guess that that fact has sort of pushed me to try and concentrate harder on casting spells like these, and maybe that’s why they’re working so well now.”

“Whatever it is you’re doing, you’re definitely doing better now. Maybe we should put aside a bit of time every day to practice spells. Especially ones we’ll be learning this year. What do you think?”

“Mione, I trust in anything you say. But yeah, I definitely think that’s a good idea.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything right now, and laid there on Harry’s bed for quite a long time until Harry said, “Well, it looks like it’s starting to get late. Is there anything else you’d like to do, or should we go off to bed right now?”

“Well, I would have liked to start our homework today, but that can wait. I’m exhausted, especially after all that advanced spell casting.” He nodded, and said, “Since you need to dress, we should probably clear the door of any of its spells and I can go get the bathroom ready for you.”

He felt Hermione shake her head beside him, “No, we don’t need to do that. I can create a temporary washroom inside your room that we can use, and when we’re done with it we can cast it away.”

“You can do that?” Harry said in wonder and felt Hermione nod her head in response.

“I’m sort of tired right now, but I’ll try it. If I can’t do it, then we’ll try your idea. Alright?” They both stood up off of the bed.

Harry nodded and looked at her with thanks. She smiled, and looked away towards an empty wall in his room. Taking out her wand, she swished it around and said, “Inanimatus Conjurus.” A doorway suddenly appeared on the wall, and Harry’s jaw fell in response.

“Did you just…use a conjuring spell?”

She nodded sheepishly, and said, “Well, I guess since it worked I’ll use it first?”

He could only nod, and went back to the bed to lie down on it as he waited for Hermione to finish. He just couldn’t get her out of his head, and the inflating feeling in his stomach was driving him mad. I need to know. I need to know. But… I can’t tell her without putting our friendship in danger.

* * *

This is simply getting harder and harder. I don’t know how I’ll be able to sleep by him tonight and not fantasize about him and me… doing… things. I already do it when I’m just looking at him in the middle of the day!

While she was washing herself and was about to put on her pajamas, she heard someone knock on the door. She looked at it in confusion, and wondered what could Harry want. She opened the door, and looked at Harry with somewhat of a glare, but mostly a questioning glance. She then suddenly realized that all she was wearing above her waist was a bra, and she suddenly blushed.

Harry seemed to freeze as her eyes looked up and down her body. Before she could blush even more, he quickly said, “You forgot this. I’m sorry for interrupting, but I thought that maybe it’d be better if I gave it to you before… you came out.” He handed her something and quickly closed the door, cheeks red as a beet.

She looked down, confused, to her hand and saw that Harry had given her the pajamas she was just about to put on, and realized that she must have forgotten them before she came into the washroom. She tried to slow her breathing as she finished off with dressing for the night.

* * *

Merlin, she’s beautiful! More and more this summer I see different sides of her, sides I never knew about. It’s only driving my body to feel more and more foreign feelings. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to stop myself from telling her my feelings before the end of the summer.

Before he could continue thinking, he heard the washroom door open silently. Wordlessly, he felt somebody else’s weight rest on the bed beside his head. Harry, in response, sat up on his bed and looked over to Hermione. For the umpteenth time today he found himself staring at her. Hermione was wearing a pink silk pajama that left little for whoever saw her to imagine.

Clearing his throat before he got himself deeper into trouble, he said, “I guess it’s my turn now.” She nodded, and Harry realized that she too was staring at him. He looked away and, grabbing some things from his drawers before he left, went into the washroom.

After washing himself, and putting on a white shirt and blue pajama pants (which he also earlier had cast a switching spell on so they were better to look at and wear than the hand-me-downs he had from Dudley in addition to most of the other clothes in his wardrobe), he made his way out of the washroom to sit beside a waiting Hermione, who seemed to have been in deep thought.

Waiting for her to finish what she was thinking about, Harry took up his wand and silently muttered the incantation “Finite Incantatem,” while aiming the wand at the conjured washroom, thus casting the conjuration away. He then folded his hands together in his lap and hummed an unknown tune.

Before long, he felt Hermione move beside him and look at him with a questioning gaze. Giggling, she said, “I never heard you hum before. What are you so happy about?”

He looked at her, no longer humming, and said, “I’m just happy that you’re here with me this summer, and I can share all these experiences with my best friend.”

She smiled, and said, “I feel the same way, Harry.”

He nodded, and looked down at his bed, “Well, ready to go to sleep?”

Nodding, she pushed herself to the far side of the bed as Harry lay down on his side. Wordlessly, they put the comforter around themselves as Hermione said, “Nox” into the air, with her wand that she had at her side, and saw the room envelop itself into darkness.

Closing his eyes, Harry felt the warm heat of the girl he loved lying behind him. How he was going to sleep tonight, he had no idea.

Eventually, things got worse. He felt Hermione edge closer to him slightly later on in the night, and wrap herself around him. He literally froze and didn’t know what to do. Should I wake her? Feeling Hermione breath so peacefully behind him, he instantly knew the answer and instead decided to stay still and to revel in this amazing feeling.

Then, suddenly, she heard her moan breathlessly in her sleep, “Harry.”

He found himself freeze again, and trying to slow his breathing he closed his eyes. Whatever that meant, I can think about later. All I have to do is try and make it until tomorrow morning. That didn’t seem to be any sort of problem for Harry, since soon after he was drifting off to sleep, the dreams he had been having ever since the battle at the Ministry of Magic beginning to awaken themselves once more in his subconscious mind.

The girl came up to him, once again initiating a dance to an imaginable tune. He felt himself, once again, rise into the heavens as the world around him shrunk only to concentrate on the two figures there on the floor. With his head in the crook of her neck, he surrendered himself to the peace and calm he felt in this girl’s presence.

The stars around him were whizzing past, flying into the distance. It was unearthly, the world they were in, and ultimately in an eternal state of peace. There was no Voldemort, no war, no fighting. There was just him, and the girl in front of him. The girl he was dancing with. A girl who was pushing themselves closer, bringing them deeper into the mechanics and under-workings of the song.

But he knew now, like he always had deep within him, who that girl was. There was no doubt, no uncertainty about it. He knew it now, a knowledge that has become as embedded as the language he spoke. Her presence overwhelmed her, and made him forget all of his worries, just like it could in the real world.

And with one glance upwards to look at Hermione Granger’s face, he knew that what he felt for her could not be denied nor ever questioned any longer. Her eyes, as soft and luscious as chocolate, looked into his and he felt as if she was piercing into his very soul.

And he knew. He knew without a doubt that he didn’t care what she saw there. He mentally surrendered, putting his hands up in mock defeat. See what I see, Hermione! See how you mean to me! Just being close to you, in your presence, makes me feel safe. Don’t you see, Hermione? I love you.

Just being in her arms made Harry feel utterly and undeniably complete. Just being close to the one girl he truly and unconditionally loved, without a single shred of doubt, made him feel as if all of his worries no longer existed. In Hermione’s arms, he was in a state of perfect harmony.

5. Intemporaliter Obligatus Per Dilectio

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately realized the fortunate predicament she was in regarding the young boy beside her. She was holding Harry as if for dear life, and that thought made her grin happily as she moved her head so that the strands of hair that had found themselves situated on her face moved to the side. Finally, she smiled down at the peaceful-looking and sleeping Harry Potter. The only person she’ll ever love.

I must be dreaming. This feels great.

She pushed herself even closer, until their bodies were merely millimeters apart, and rested her face in his shoulder, feeling happier than she had ever felt before. It was at that moment she suddenly realized that this couldn’t be a dream. It felt too real. It was also at this time that she felt all of the heat in her body make its way to her face as she blushed harder than she had ever blushed before.

I’m holding on to Harry and this is real! Oh, God. I should let go.

But, however much she tried, she just couldn’t. Even if he woke up and found her doing this to him, she wouldn’t care. This felt simply too good. She let her passion overrule her reasoning, and made herself a home in Harry’s shoulder. No matter what anyone would say, she was now truly at home. Harry, I love you.

Let the heavens strike me down now. I won’t move an inch.

* * *

Harry couldn’t believe it. Hermione was still holding on to him, and she was getting even closer. Most alarming of all, he realized that she must obviously be awake now. He can hear her breathing into his shoulder. What could this mean? Is she just doing this as a way of being close to a friend? Or… does she feel the same as I do?

Suddenly, he felt a strange feeling envelop his body. This was much different than the feeling he constantly had lately whenever he was close to or whenever he was looking or thinking of Hermione. No, this felt much different. A strange curling feeling traveled down his spine, and it seemed like someone was trying to talk to him. He didn’t know how he knew that, just that he did, just like he knew night from day.

He tried to ignore it and closed his eyes as thoughts managed to slip deceptively into his mind. I can’t wake up right now. Maybe I could just lie here and hope she never lets go.

His mind returned to the dreams he had last night, and with that thought he forced himself to feel content in her arms, to not question this gift. The several moments he spent just lying there on the bed were ones he cherished, ones which consisted mainly of him feeling the heat of Hermione’s body and breathing on his body. Eventually, he felt himself slowly drift into another somewhat peaceful sleep, catalyzed by the hypnotizing presence of Hermione Granger that for the life of him he could not expel, nor did he ever want to.

However, an abrupt feeling began to envelop his body almost immediately after he began to snooze off. He felt as if his entire body and soul had taken off at the speed of light in several different directions, a feeling not unlike the one he had when he had first used magic in his First Year at Hogwarts. A strange enveloping feeling made its way down to his waist as he felt an inflating movement begin to push itself in hundreds of different directions, adding to the bizarre feeling of being split into several different directions. And, then, just like that the feeling was gone, replaced by a vacuum of nothingness… a void with no end.

A void that was eventually filled in, just like any other vacuum would have the natural tendency to. Science had willed it so, so many years ago, and now science will will it so once more.

He opened his eyes and found that he seemed to be in some sort of strange and twisted dream world. A heavy mist surrounded him, and far off a ways from him was a huge golden altar, an altar that seemed extraordinarily familiar. Not knowing what else to do, he approached it.

The dream world around him began to mold and shape into one that was far more serene and cheerful than the dream world he had first entered in. A feeling of utter rapture began to leech into his very being, and he realized that even though the altar he had seen moments ago only seemed a couple of meters away, he was still no closer to it than when he first tried to step towards it.

Looking above, he saw the clouds split apart to show the subtle hints of the tendrils of the sun beginning to drag their ways across the dark land around him, and then suddenly he realized he was there. He finally reached it, and he could see three distinct forms standing behind it, as well as several other cloudy forms off to the side. The first of these was himself, wearing a long and intricate black cloak, and a white crystal crown. As flowers were floating down around him, he was enveloping someone… he was enveloping a girl… a girl who wore a gorgeous white dress that beheld patterns of various kinds and that traveled down to the ground where it went outwards as a train.

A girl he suddenly realized he knew once he took in the relaxing sight of her hair. He’d know her anywhere, just like he knew it was his body he occupied. The girl was Hermione Granger and she was wearing a crystalline tiara that matched his crown, further completed by the addition of a crown of white jasmine flowers. But she seemed slightly older now. Or was it more of an additional presence of wisdom? It might only be a few months or a year, but that time only seemed to improve her natural beauty. They were looking euphorically at each other’s faces, only a few millimeters keeping them apart.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight, and he had to force himself to look around to try and determine the nature of this strange and amazing dream. To their left was their very own headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He was wearing a long green-blue cloak and seemed to be happier than he had ever seen him, the twinkle in his eye no longer just a twinkle, but a full-fledged star. He was looking at him and Hermione and was smiling, truly smiling as if he beheld in his eyes his very own newly-born son. Putting a hand on one of both of their shoulders he said, “As everyone now recognizes that these two are Anima Materia, each one-half of the same soul, I have no reason otherwise to state that they are now legally bound in marriage.” Behind him now was a huge crowd of people, one that seemed to extend outwards for several meters of distance. Some of them he knew immediately from their red hair, others he had seen from the Order of the Phoenix, but most of the people, he realized, were people he hardly knew.

Cheers broke out from behind him, and he suddenly felt himself being dragged down by his navel, in a method of transportation that was not unlike that of traveling by a portkey. While being dragged down he could clearly hear a deep voice repeat over and over: “Grasp your destiny.”

His eyes instantly opened and his breathing was very strained. He felt Hermione take her head off of his shoulder and shake him fearfully, “Harry? What’s wrong?” The inflating feeling, remnant from his strange vision, seemed to grow and grow, threatening to force him to explode. Tears of joy of seeing both Hermione and him marrying each other began leaking out from his eyes. I have to know! I can’t take it anymore! I have to know if she loves me too!

* * *

Hermione didn’t know what was going on. One second she was resting peacefully in the nook between Harry’s head and shoulder, seemingly as if her body fit his as if it was a jigsaw puzzle, and the next second Harry was shaking uncontrollably and was breathing raggedly. He must have just had a nightmare, she quickly concluded as she took her head off of his shoulder and shook him gently, scared for her best friend’s life, “Harry? What’s wrong?”

She then saw that tears were running off of his face and were falling on to the bed. She drew her eyebrows together in confusion and got off of the bed so she could face him on his side of the bed while kneeling down on the ground.

“Harry? What are you crying about?” She looked at him with concern, fear beginning to envelop every fiber of her being, and suddenly Harry’s hand made their ways around her, not forcefully but definitely desperately. A fact that only seemed to make her flooding of emotions worsen. “Mione.” She put her own arms around him carefully, and tried to comfort him. They stayed like this, in that same position, for several minutes until Harry gently took her arms off from around him, and sat up on his bed, looking at her intensely with an unknown emotion.

This was one of the first times that Hermione couldn’t discern what her best friend was feeling just by looking into his eyes. His eyes seemed to be completely covered over by strange and foreign emotions to her. What could he possibly be feeling?

“Did you have a nightmare?” Hermione asked, now definitely scared. She stared at his eyes, trying to identify why he was staring at her like this. She could literally feel his gaze go right through her, and she had never felt so vulnerable before. But I don’t care. This is Harry, and I’d give myself to him if he wanted it right now. She knew that in her heart, without a doubt, and could feel her love for him more deeply than ever before.

He slowly shook his head, “No.”

“Then what happened?” Her voice was shaking, but she tried to keep herself under control. Harry needed her to be there for him. Why is he being so secretive? Tell me what’s wrong already!

“Hermione. There’s something I have to tell you.”

Hermione nodded at him for him to continue. He obviously was trying to tell her something very important, so she climbed up onto the bed beside him, then turned to stare at his face, and waited.

She was going to raise her hand to envelop his, but was shocked to see that Harry had slowly raised his hand to gently feel her face. That simple touch sent her body down an emotional rollercoaster of intense feelings of passion and need. She desperately tried to shrug the feelings away as she continued to listen. “When I met you, so long ago, on that train Hermione, I knew you were special. It turned out that I couldn’t be any more right, because later on, after I saved you from that mountain troll, we had become hand-fast friends; we forged something unbreakable between ourselves. That friendship only managed to grow, and grow, and grow. It didn’t seem to have an end. You care for me, understand me, and I feel the same way towards you.”

It was a few moments before he could speak again. They motionlessly continued to breathe and stare at each other, trying to absorb in the other with as much concentration as they could muster. “But, Hermione, something’s happened. I have always felt this way, ever since I first met you, but lately I can’t control it anymore. It’s becoming too strong for me, wanting to release itself out from under the surface, and I have to tell you. It can’t be delayed any longer. Even though it might ruin our friendship, I don’t care. I want you to know how much you really mean to me, just how I picture you.” He was now stroking her face in a shaking matter, as if very scared of saying something that’ll she not like. Hermione was desperately trying to stifle the moans wanting to escape her, and the possibility of what Harry’s words meant only served to make her become more dizzy and light-headed.

“Hermione Jane Granger; I say this to you now, without a feeling of doubt or uncertainty. Flawlessly and completely, I love you. With all my heart, I love you. I always have and I always will. You make me feel so complete, so absolute, when I’m in your presence. You drive away all of my fears and make me feel important. You’re so perfect, Hermione, and there’s nothing about you I’d change. I need you Hermione, like I need the oxygen in the air to breathe.” Tears were now silently falling down his face and he was shuddering with nervousness.

Saying Hermione was shocked when she heard those words would be a major understatement. As soon as her mind began to work again, and the words began to register, she realized that Harry just told her that he loved her. He loves me! HE LOVES ME!

The feelings that Hermione felt shimmer to the surface were just about to make her explode. Hermione had never felt this intensely in love and happy before. Oh, Merlin, if this is a dream please never let me wake from it. She was silently whimpering as tears of extreme happiness threatened to fall down her face.

The euphoria she felt had no end, had no beginning, had no midpoint. It was a circle, an eternal feeling of perfect happiness, happiness without a taint, without a flaw. She was now Harry’s, and Harry’s was hers. She mustered as much courage as she could muster and said very slowly, “Harry. You don’t understand how happy I feel right now. I feel the same way.

“Ever since I met you, I fell in love with you. Your personality, your courage, the way you care, and the way you can make me feel happy just by looking into my eyes.” She made a point to just stare into his eyes with as much intensity as she could congregate, “Whenever I’m in your presence, I feel as if I’m walking in the clouds, as if my happiness were absolute. I had those feelings since first year when I was around you, and they only continued to grow, Harry, just like our friendship.

“Harry, you’re the only person I could ever imagine spending my life with. You mean the world to me Harry, and I’d give everything away just to be with you for the rest of my life. I love you, Harry James Potter, and I always will!”

The tears were now seeking to escape, but she desperately tried to hold them at bay. Any sort of instrument known to man could not measure the happiness Hermione felt. She felt absolutely complete, and now had all she ever really wanted: the man sitting beside her.

Harry looked at her, his mouth agape. “You… love me too?”

She smiled as widely as she could and nodded wildly, “Yes, Harry, oh yes! Nobody can ever make me feel differently! You’re the man of my dreams!” At these words, they immediately embraced each other at the same time, pushing their bodies into each other as if they needed the other just to survive. Harry’s arms made their way around her body and rested on her back, grasping her as if his very life depended on it, and her arms did the same with his back. She rested her head in the nook between his head and shoulder, and let the tears she were holding fly out freely, letting the world around her know just how happy she was. One of Harry’s hands made their way to her hair and nuzzled her gently, making her stomach do even more summersaults.

“I don’t know what to say, Mione. I’ve never felt this happy before. Am I dreaming? Oh, Merlin, please tell me I’m not.”

She giggled, hearing almost the same words she had thought come out of his mouth, “Oh, Harry, I don’t even care if it is anymore. Nothing can spoil my happiness right now.”

They held each other that way for over a quarter of an hour, both of them simply happy they were in each other’s arms. Finally, Harry broke both of their trances by lightly taking Hermione’s head off of his shoulder by guiding her by the chin. He moved her head so that they were staring into each other’s eyes.

Without even speaking a word, Harry and Hermione closed the distance between themselves. She felt her breath slam its way out of her when their lips touched, ever so gently. They both stayed that way, drowning in each other’s presence, until both of them suddenly, as if seeing a signal, pushed harder into the other and drove themselves into a mind-blowing passionate and emotional kiss. One that would forever be engraved in the hearts and minds of the two individuals on that bed.

And without even thinking, Hermione’s tongue drove its way out of her mouth and prodded Harry’s lip, as if asking for permission to enter. Without a word, their lips opened and welcomed each other’s tongues. Lip-locked, tongue-locked, and locked in each other’s arms, they stayed for a very long while. Hermione had never felt so happy… so complete… so powerful ever before in her life. Fireworks were going off in her body, and she felt herself beginning to moan with the happiness seeking a method to escape her body.

Then, the situation changed almost instantly. Harry’s arms took themselves off of Hermione’s back, and his hands came up to envelop the back of Hermione’s head, drowning in her hair. Hermione did the same by zealously grabbing onto the back of Harry’s head, pushing her hands into his unruly yet striking hair. What am I talking about? Any part of Harry is striking.

And finally, they let each of their lips come apart so both of them could breath and try to drink in the air around them. But when both of them were satisfied, only seconds after, they were back at it again. Their lips and tongues met and they continued to drown in each other’s presence. Time had no reign over the two of them.

And fated as it may be, time did pass. Hours must have came and gone, and when both of them seemed to have exhausted themselves to the point where they could no longer continue on with their embrace, they came apart. The sun was now almost directly overhead, making the passing of time seem obvious to both of their eyes.

But, the sun was not either of their worries.

They continued to stare sincerely and euphorically at each other’s eyes, simply content with looking at the object of each other’s absolute affection. The smiles on their faces had no comparison, and for the first time ever Harry Potter did not worry about the world around him, and neither did Hermione Granger worry about her friend.

* * *

The last few hours were like a dream. He had managed to actually muster up all of the Gryffindor courage he could so he could reveal all of his feelings to Hermione, and in return he found that she shared the same sort of affection. Not only did she love him, but she also loved him to the same degree that he loved her. He honestly couldn’t feel any happier, and was quite confident that if he were to try and make a patronus appear right now, he could do so without much effort at all. This was simply put the best moment of his life.

Looking into Hermione’s eyes he could see in them rapture that clearly mirrored his own. Not knowing at all what he was doing, he felt for his wand, which was in his pajama pocket, and raised it to Hermione’s heart. He also saw, quite surprisingly, that she had done the same, and seemed to be as equally confused as he was to why they did so.

“I need you, Hermione Jane Granger.” The words slipped out of his mouth, desperately wanting to be known, to be heard by the world around him.

“And I need you, Harry James Potter.”

And then, it happened. Harry had never felt the same thing ever happen to him again. It was as if he had become an outside observer of the two of them staring at each other, a floating spirit in space. He saw himself and Hermione begin to speak in sync, both beginning to proclaim a seemingly practiced speech to each other, still staring into the other’s eyes.

“Forever in and forever out, I willingly choose to bind myself.”

The world around them began to melt towards their very souls, making them feel as if the very air around them were beginning to constrict upon them further and further as the seconds went by.

“Forever in and forever out, my body to you, I devote myself.”

The air around them began to twirl around and form a cyclone, hurling its way around the two figures in an intricate pattern that neither touched them nor interrupted them. The items in Harry’s room, quite oddly, did not seem to be affected by this strange tunnel of wind and as it continued to grow fiercer and fiercer, the two began to feel that the air around them was beginning to loosen its hold on them.

“Forever in and forever out, I eternally bind myself.”

Their eyes locked, never tearing themselves away from their gazes as the last portion of the spell was spoken into the air:

Nusquam mos effrego nos seorsum,

Pro ego sum intemporliter obligatus per dilectio.

The ends of their wands began to emit a bright light that seemed to gradually concentrate into an intense beam that began to visibly shoot its way through both of their hearts. Coming out the other ends, the beam of light turned into a rope-like strand of light that wrapped itself, repeatedly, around both of their bodies, and then, quite abruptly, the bright white light turned a deep red as the winds around the two of them suddenly exploded outwards in a fierce show of power.

At the same time the white rope-like strands of light turned red, Harry found himself being pulled back into his body where he was now staring, unable to move, at Hermione’s face who seemed to be doing the same. Then, quite suddenly he felt unsure who he was, or what he was doing there… it was as if his mind became a blur and he seemed to be looking at himself from another person’s perspective. He then realized, almost immediately, that he was looking through Hermione’s eyes and that made him feel all the more confused about what was happening. A deep feeling of absolute love and devotion enveloped his mind and he began to hear thoughts reel through his mind. ‘Harry?’

‘Hermione?’ He heard himself echo his thoughts in the nothingness they now existed in.

‘You can hear me?’ Hermione replied.

‘This is so strange; it feels like I’m… you.’

‘I feel that too. It feels like our minds are fusing together. I’m beginning to feel what you’re feeling and seeing what you’re seeing.’

‘Me too.’

‘Oh, Harry, I never knew you cared that deeply for me. You love doesn’t seem to have an end.’

‘Neither does yours, Hermione, and that’s how I want our loves to stay.’

And then, just like that, the strands of light disappeared and they were back in full control of their bodies. But it wasn’t yet finished. A torrent of memories and thoughts streamed through his mind.

Hermione was on a swing set, looking up at a woman with brown bushy hair like hers. “Mommy! Come on the swings with me!” The woman laughed and said, “Of course, Hermione.”

She was reading a letter written with emerald green ink, sent to her from a place known as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The thought continued to roll around in her mind, repeatedly, over and over: I’m a witch?

As she was entering the next carriage in order to question its occupants on whether or not they had seen a particular frog, her eyes locked with another pair, emerald green in color. She felt her entire body freeze, and almost as if time stopped, the world around her slowed to a stand-still. The boy she was looking at had immediately caught her eye, and her attention. Her entire body was devoted to him for that long moment. Those gorgeous eyes, the confused look on his face… he obviously needs help, and I promise you, God, here and now, I will help him.

She was staring up at Harry, deeply pleased by how much he understood her. They were looking at each other as she put the Time Turner’s chain around their heads, ready for the next phase of their journey as friends. Harry, thank you for becoming my friend so long ago. I don’t know where I’d be without you.

Memory after memory clouded his mind until he seemed to be one with Hermione’s mind, knowing all she knew, inside and out. Brief flashes of scenes came to him as they swirled into his mind, seemingly without a point of reference. He felt like he was literally drowning in the memories of the woman he loved. Eventually, when there seemed to no longer be any memories left, the torrent of memories came to an end.

‘Harry, can you still hear me?’ Hermione replied.

‘Yes. Wait, are you thinking this to me?’

‘Of course. I think that whatever spell we just cast on each other seemed to have fused our minds together.’

‘So… you had seen all my memories too?’

‘Yes, Harry, I did. I’m still surprised why you haven’t told me about the prophecy yet.’

‘I didn’t want you to worry about me.’

‘Harry, you know that I’ll share in any pain of yours if you’ll let me. It’s what I’m here for. To be with you. Oh, Harry, I wish you could be like any other normal teenager and just enjoy life. That prophecy seems to explain a lot about why Voldemort wants you so much.’

‘Thank you Hermione, you don’t know how much you mean to me.’

‘Yes, I do, and I’m fairly certain you know just how much you mean to me.’

‘Hermione, I’ll never ever stop loving you. I’ll love you for the rest of time. I promise you.’

‘And I’ll love you for the rest of time too, Harry. You’ll never have to worry about that.’

After Hermione completed her sentence, the queasiness both of them had seemed to come to an end, and then he realized that both he and Hermione were in each other’s hands, lying down on the bed. However, he felt completely changed. Completely different. He felt like he was no longer just himself. He felt another presence… a presence that was like his own, except distinctly different. Then it hit him: he had bonded with Hermione, just like she said, and he could not be any happier.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was looking down at a particular tome he had in his hands when the Deputy Headmistress entered his office in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Minerva McGonagall was looking around, a curious gleam in her eyes, and came down to sit in the chair in front of his desk.

“Why did you call me down here, Albus?”

He looked up at her through his half-moon spectacles, closing the book in his hands with a resounding snap, and spoke very softly, “Another prophecy has been uncovered, Minerva.”

As soon as the words made their way out of his mouth, Albus could now see that Minerva was even more interested, yet at the same time slightly fearful. She motioned for him to continue, and concentrated even more when Albus Dumbledore uncovered his Pensieve, which was previously under a black cloth. Putting his wand into the basin, he extracted a thin silver thread and watched as it became engorged and formed the image of Sybill Trelawney who spoke out in a menacing tone:

In the first time in over a hundred years,

The one who has been chosen and his one true love will unite.

Forever in, and forever out, eternally bonded he shall be in love.

A love that no one could bring the end of;

When their love is requited hand-in-hand,

The bind that will be created cannot be undone.

Eternally bound he shall be in love,

And the one he loves will instate in him the power the Dark Lord knows not.

Together, they bring hope.

Apart, they cannot.

“Are you telling me, Albus, that this is an authentic prophecy?” Professor McGonagall whispered to Albus. A worried demeanor covered her face, and she felt her entire body tense in anxiety and worry over the child she thought of as the son she never had.

“I am adamantly confident of the authenticity of this prophecy, Minerva. It was, remember, Sybill who had originally given me the prophecy in which I spoke about during our last meeting referring to Harry.”

“If the ‘one who has been chosen’ is whom I think it refers to—”

“It is also who I think it refers to as well, Minerva, and I can almost certainly stake my life on it.”

“Well, then, we should act to try and make this prophecy true! If finding his ‘love’ will help us in the battle against He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, then there is no other action we can take.”

“I understand that Minerva. Action has already been taken.”

“It has?” She was shocked to hear this, and waited for his response. Her heart was racing, awaiting the headmaster’s reply. With a twinkle in his eyes, Albus Dumbledore replied, “I’ve already took it upon myself to invite Ms. Granger to Mr. Potter’s abode.”

Silence followed this statement. Not a word was spoken. Not a thought was made. It seemed like time itself had come to a stop in that office in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry. And, just like that, it was over. Minerva McGonagall replied very slowly and carefully, “And how do you know that she is whom the prophecy refers to?”

“Let’s just say I’m basing this off observations I’ve made over the last few years, and that you should trust my judgment, Minerva. It is I, if you remember, who had made the prediction that James and Lily would come together.”

Minerva McGonagall could only shake her head in wonder, and for the first time in a long time, felt a smile creep upon her face. Harry might finally get the happiness he always deserved.

Little did the two professors know that Harry had already found everything he ever wanted in Hermione Granger: undying, unconditional, and true love with the girl of his dreams.