There all along

Disclaimer: All characters and place names etc. belong to JKRowling - you know how it goes - they're not mine!

Harry sat, curled up in a comfy armchair next to the fire, his head tipped back and resting on the arm of the chair, letting the sounds of the house wash over him. The fire next to him crackled and spat whilst the enchanted clock whirred and clicked. The sounds of Molly Weasley simultaneously cooking and ordering Ginny and Hermione not to burn the pudding, which she had allowed them to make, drifted through from the kitchen. From outside, intermittent grunts and yells bore evidence to the degnoming that was being carried out. Sighing, Harry moved in the chair to become more comfortable. It was the first time in days he had had a moment to himself, for once not to think or to plan, but to just relax. It had been exactly a month since the end of the war. The funerals of the dead, all of which Harry had attended, had ended just a week ago. He had not however, been to any of the celebration parties, which were still ongoing and to which he had been invited to many. The Weasley's, Harry and Hermione were still too raw from the deaths of Fred, Remus, Tonks and all the others who gave their lives, to fully enjoy the euphoria that swept the wizarding world.

Both Harry and Hermione had returned to live with the Weasley's to help them get over their loss and, since Hermione's parents were still in Australia, neither had anywhere else to go anyway. They all tried to ensure that life went back to something as close to resembling normal as possible, but there were still times when someone would lapse into silence, staring off into the distance and the hole that Fred had left in the fabric of the Burrow was almost visible. More than once he, Harry, had entered the kitchen to find Mrs Weasley hastily brushing tears from her face.

The sound of Ron clattering down the stairs and being chastised by the women in the kitchen broke Harry from his reverie. Slowly opening one eye he squinted at his best friend of seven years as he rushed into the room looking guiltily over his shoulder, and Harry distinctly heard him mutter, “t'was only one biscuit!” Grinning, for what felt like the first time in days, Harry sat up properly.

“Ron do you ever think of anything besides your stomach?”

Ron turned and mock glared at him, “yes… occasionally I sleep too! - You still reading all that fan mail?” He indicated the large pile of letter on the floor and the half read sheet of paper in Harry's hand.

Harry sighed. “It's not all fan mail Ron, a lot of it's from people who lost someone and want to thank me; it's actually quite embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I mean, it's not as if you did much,” Ron's voice dripped sarcasm. “You only tried to die for the sake of the entire world and then killed You-now-who - again.” Even now Ron refused to say the name.

It was a conversation they had had several times over the last month and yet again Ron refused to understand that what Harry had done wasn't really that wonderfully heroic.

“Look Ron, it was the Elder Wand that killed him, not me; I just took a gamble on how it would turn out. As for the dying to save the world part, anyone would have done it.”

When Ron continued to look sceptical, Harry just sighed and changed the subject quickly. “So how many biscuits did you swipe really?”

Ron's ears turned scarlet, “it was only three.”

Harry began to laugh and laugh, and he was still laugh when a few minutes later Mrs Weasley called them through for supper.

With the exception of Charlie, who had returned to Romania shortly after Fred's funeral, the whole Weasley clan, plus Harry and Hermione, gathered around the kitchen table. As they all took their seats Harry found that he had ended up tucked between Ginny and Hermione - who was in turn sitting next to Ron - and assumed that this was another one of Mrs Weasley's less than subtle hints. Ever since they'd gotten back to the Burrow, Ron's mum had thrown the couples' together at every available opportunity and dropped numerous hints about families and marriage. It seemed to Harry as though she was determined to have an engagement by the end of the summer to somehow compensate for Fred's loss. Despite her best efforts, or perhaps because of them, neither relationship had really gotten off the ground.

After the emotion of the battle at Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione seemed to be perpetually embarrassed in each other's company. Watching them now Harry rolled his eyes as he watched them try to eat without letting their arms touch. With Ginny however, it was quite the opposite problem. He tried to be patient and understanding, she had after all been through a traumatic experience and lost her brother, but he had never been able to stomach clinginess. She wanted to be in his company all the time, asked him what he was thinking more times than he could stomach and got furiously jealous if he so much as spoke to Hermione on her own, despite his constant reassurances that she was just a friend. At times he wondered whether she was worth all the hassle, but then he looked into her beautiful brown eyes and couldn't even contemplate losing her. Besides Ron would never forgive him if he broke his little sister's heart.

She'd started talking again now, asking him if he was sure he was eating enough and telling him she would miss him so much when she went back to Hogwarts. He'd been so busy thinking that he hadn't even noticed when she'd started to speak. He fleetingly wondered how he could have put up with all this last year, but he quickly squashed the thought, they'd all been through so much since then, that things were bound to feel a little different at first.

Just before pudding was served Bill cleared his throat and got to his feet. “As you will all no doubt have realised it's been a month since You-know-who was defeated, and not a day goes by where we all don't think about what we lost to achieve that.” Here he indicated George who had undoubtedly been hit the hardest by what had happened. “So I'd like to make a toast to the memory of the most fantastic brother that anyone could ask for - to Fred.” The clinking of glasses around the table was drowned out by George's quip, “wherever you are, may you irritate those you're with as much as you did us!”

Several watery smiles greeted this remark as Bill continued, “I'd also like to thank Harry, because without him, none of us would probably be here.” Harry turned scarlet at this and stared studiously at his plate as To Harry echoed around the table and Hermione elbowed him gently in the ribs.

Pudding was quickly produced after this - which Harry was grateful for as it covered his embarrassment, an attitude which Ginny just couldn't understand.

“But Harry you're a hero, you shouldn't be embarrassed to be treated like one, you deserve it.” The look she gave him was half puzzled, half exasperated as he shrugged noncommittally and turned to his pudding. Ron, he noticed, was already attacking his with vigour whilst Hermione wore an expression of restrained disgust. Knowing Hermione had had a hand in the making he was apprehensive about eating any of it himself, but to show solidarity he gingerly ate a piece and found himself pleasantly surprised. “Wow Hermione this is actually really good.”

“Thanks Harry,” she beamed at him, “Ginny and Mrs Weasley helped to though.” Guiltily Harry turned to his girlfriend and reiterated the complement, too late though. If looks could kill, Harry wondered why Voldemort didn't just save himself the bother and let Ginny finish Harry off. He gulped and hastily returned to his pudding.

A/N: Sorry I know not much happened there, but I hadn't intended this bit to be so long, the chapter sort of ran away with me. I promise the next chapter will see a bit more action and Ginny will soon be disposed of.

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After the pudding debacle, Ginny refused to speak to Harry for the rest of the meal, much to his discomfort, Mrs Weasley's distress and Ron's intense amusement. Harry made a mental note never to complement a woman on her cooking again, it only lead to trouble. As they all retreated to the living room after supper, he sat as far away from her as possible and tried to ignore her steely glare.

As everyone made themselves comfortable and Mrs Weasley tuned into the WWN, Harry noticed that Ron and Hermione had stayed behind in the kitchen. Harry wasn't really sure how he felt about his two best friends romance, or lack thereof. He wanted them to be happy after all they had done for him, of course he did, but when the three of them were alone together he often felt as though their friendship was being stretched and that they, or at least Ron, resented Harry's presence. But perhaps he was just being paranoid.

Trying not to draw attention to himself he stretched over the side of the sofa to try and see through the kitchen door, he could hear them talking to each other, but their words were drowned out by the hiss and crackle of the radio. Giving up he returned his attention to the conversation in the room.

“I've tried to speak to someone about it,” Mr Weasley was saying, “but everyone at the Ministry's so busy at the moment that I haven't had the chance to explain the idea. What do you think Harry?”

Harry floundered as everyone turned to look expectantly at him. “Er… sorry Mr Weasley I must've nodded off,” he supplied lamely, “what were you saying?”

“I was just saying that after everything that happened, with You-know… well, anyway the Ministry aught to put up some sort of memorial or monument to all those who fought and died…” Mr Weasley looked away from everyone and cleared his throat loudly before continuing. “So what do you think? No one at the Ministry has much time for me at the moment.”

Whether or not Mr Weasley was subtly asking Harry to help him, (and Harry doubted it) he immediately saw that he would be one of the few people who could actually make himself heard at the Ministry, being the Boy-who-lived and all.

“I think it's a great idea Mr Weasley, it could probably be put up at Hogwarts as well since so many of th…” Harry struggled to find a word that fitted, “those who fought were from there. It seems fitting.” Unsure how to offer his help without taking over the idea, he paused for a second. “If you wanted to draw up some sort of proposal I could - I might…”

Catching on instantly Mr Weasley beamed at Harry and saved him the trouble of continuing. “Would you submit it for me Harry? Oh, that'd be excellent, and having it at Hogwarts is a fantastic idea.”

After that the discussion turned to the latest Quidditch results and Mrs Weasley's none too gentle quizzing of Fleur on the relative likelihood of grandchildren in the near future. His stomach full after a delicious meal Harry sat sleepily on the corner of the sofa occasionally voicing his opinion on a particular team or the relative skill of a seeker.

Suddenly an explosion of angry voices from the kitchen disrupted the conversation, and Harry had no trouble in hearing what his friends were saying.

“HONESTLY RON, WHAT DO YOU EXPECT? THAT I'LL JUST SIT AROUND FOREVER WAITING FOR YOU TO GROW UP?”

“Well I'm sorry you feel that way.” Ron was practically spitting and Harry could just imagine the colour of his ears by now. “Perhaps you should stop waiting around and just go off and abandon your friends since that's what you so obviously want to do!”

At this point there was a disembodied scream of rage from the kitchen. “ABANDON! You're hardly one to talk about abandonment Ronald, especially this year!”

Harry winced as a deathly silence spread from the kitchen. After several tense seconds, during which no one in the living room dared to breath, Ron finally spoke in a clipped, cold voice. “Well if that's the way you feel then you're welcome to leave.”

Without warning the kitchen door was thrown open and Ron stormed out, saw the stunned stares of his family and threw himself back the way he had come. Seconds later they heard the pounding of his feet receding up the stairs. After a pause Bill cleared his throat and said feebly, “So Dad… I think that's a fantastic idea of Dedalus Diggle's. Commemorative celebratory top hats eh?” George laughed half-heartedly at this, but otherwise the room remained silent. Mrs Weasley looked utterly distraught and Harry could almost see the wedding cake crumbling in her mind. Percy and Mr Weasley looked awkward and from across the room came an entirely audible, disapproving sniff from Ginny. Whether it was Ginny's supercilious attitude or just the awkward tension in the room Harry wasn't sure, but he couldn't bear to stay there for a second longer.

“I suppose I better go check on them.” He mumbled as he slunk towards the door ignoring Ginny's outraged glare.

Entering the kitchen he found the room disserted and so continued upstairs to find his friends. Once he reached the landing he felt torn as to which one he should talk to first, Ron was probably sitting sulking in his room and he assumed that Hermione had returned to the room she shared with Ginny. Whichever friend he went to the other would no doubt feel sidelined and get upset with him. Why did they always put him in this position? Although come to think of it, if Ron's past moods were anything to go by then he wouldn't notice if Harry went up just now and cursed his eyebrows off - again. A muffled sob from the end of the corridor decided him.

Quietly he knocked on Ginny's bedroom door, “Hermione, can I come in?”

For a moment the sniffing paused and he heard her scrambling around frantically for a moment. Then, “Alohomora,” the lock clicked and the door swung open. Walking into the room he slowly shut the door behind him and leant against it. His best friend was sitting on a camp bed set up in the corner, her face puffy and red from crying and her bushy hair frizzier than ever. As she gazed back at him her eyes filled with tears again, but the voice that spoke was calm and surprisingly defeated.

“Oh Harry, I'm such an idiot. I've made an awful mess of everything and -” she paused, “it doesn't matter, you wouldn't understand.”

Harry was baffled by how tired and fatalistic she sounded; she never usually let Ron get to her this much. Normally when they fell out she continued shouting about him even when he was out of earshot. It was as though all the fire and spark had gone out of her, something was wrong. Moving across the room to sit beside her on the bed Harry reached out to take her hand, “Are you sure you don't want to talk; what were you arguing about?” He waited for her to gather herself together before she began.

“Well all I said to him was that I was thinking - thinking about going over to Australia soon to bring my parents back, and at first he seemed ok with it but then I explained I wanted to go on my own and he sort of blew up in my face and started going on about how I didn't care about us anymore. But that's just it Harry, I don't think I do care enough anymore. We fight all the time and it's mean sniping at each other and I don't like the person I become when that happens. If anything we fight even more now than we used to. Maybe it's best just to stay friends.” She looked at Harry with nervous eyes as though seeking his opinion on the matter.

Sighing he decided how best to approach the situation, he couldn't exactly tell her to ditch his best friend, that would be to much like a betrayal, but he could also see that she was deeply unhappy and needed reassurance. Eventually he began tentatively, “the thing is Hermione, I can't tell you whether you should stay with Ron, that's up to you to decide. What I do think you should do though is talk to him, you never know, you might be able to fix it.” At this some of Hermione's old spark returned as she gave a sceptical snort. “At least promise me you'll talk to him.” He waited until she gave a resigned nod and then continued. “As for going to Australia of course you have to go and get your parents, and after everything you've done for me I wouldn't dream of stopping you. But are you sure you want to go on your own?” He hurried to explain himself as she angrily tried to interrupt him. “I know you'd be able to cope fine on your own, I just wanted to be sure you didn't want company.”

“No thanks Harry,” she squeezed his hand affectionately, “I need to do this on my own and have some time to myself after everything that's happened. You of all people know what that feels like.”

“If you're sure,” He didn't like the thought of her leaving on her own, but he knew he had no right to stop her.

“Mmhm,” she sighed, “I better go and talk to R-“

The door flew open and hit the wall with a bang as Hermione jumped away from him. In the doorway stood a fuming Ginny. “Well don't you too look cosy,” she drawled in a tone that would have made any Malfoy proud. Harry felt himself blushing and knew it made him look guilty as hell, which just made him blush even more. Although if he had nothing to be guilty about why could he still feel the imprint of Hermione's hand in his making his skin tingle?

Hermione stood up, nervously brushing her hair behind her ears. “Well I'll go and see Ron…” She trailed off as Ginny continued to glare at her.

“Remembered we have a boyfriend already have we?” she challenged as Hermione attempted to squeeze past her and run up the stairs.

As Hermione's footsteps faded above them Harry rounded on his girlfriend. “What was that all about?”

“As if you didn't know.” Ginny practically spat it at him. “One minute she has a fight with her boyfriend, my brother by the way, and the next she goes running off to hold your hand. I'm sorry Harry but I do have a brain you know, I can see what's going on.”

“Which is what exactly?” Harry's tone was icily dangerous now. “Tell me Ginny what exactly do you think is going on? Do you really think that I'd cheat on you? Because if that's how little you think of me then -” He paused for breath as the unsaid hung heavily in the air between them.

After a few tense seconds of silence Ginny reached out a placatory hand and said in a falsely sweet voice, “Of course I don't think that of you Harry, what I meant was that I wouldn't put it past Hermione to try and break us up. She's always been jealous of me and -”

With a jerk Harry wrenched his arm out of her grip, “Hermione is my best friend and she would never dream of doing anything of the sort. She doesn't have a mean bone in her body. So the next time you decide to open your mouth and let your stomach rumble just leave her out of it alright?” And with that he stormed out of the room.

As he reached the staircase he heard her infuriated scream. “Oh just - just grow up Harry!”

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Harry never did find out what Ron and Hermione said to each other that night, but by the next day the two of them had returned to normal, or at least a fixed state of cordiality towards each other. Ginny on the other hand split her time between hanging onto Harry and shooting evil looks at Hermione when she thought he wasn't looking. Once he had calmed down he had tried to talk to Ginny with the intention of telling her it was over, but she had seemed so contrite and admitted to him that she just felt threatened by Hermione that he just didn't have the heart to do it. After all they were meant to be together weren't they? Everyone seemed to think so, and Hermione was just a friend… Although that didn't explain why the memory of sitting holding Hermione's hand felt so - tingly. However Harry made sure that he thought about that as little as possible, it was just at odd quiet moments that it sort of crept up on him.

The next two weeks passed uneventfully, and July arrived in a blaze of sunshine as though the weather wanted to point out just how different from last year things were now. The weeks would have been the perfect way to recover from the horrors that had passed and to start afresh - if Hermione and Ron weren't so strained and formal in each others company and he didn't have to keep avoiding Ginny the human limpet. Hermione had announced her decision to leave to the rest of the Weasley's and Ginny had become more clingy and simpering than ever. Harry just didn't know what to do about her.

One morning during the first week of July Mrs Weasley and Hermione were sitting discussing the latter's travel arrangements, the men of the family had all left to go to their individual jobs and Harry, Ron and Ginny were eating breakfast in sleepy silence. Suddenly an insistent tapping at the kitchen window brought everyone's attention to the large tawny owl perched on the windowsill.

“Oh, Ginny dear, this must be your Hogwarts letter,” Mrs Weasley exclaimed rushing to retrieve it. “They're awful early this year aren't they? But Minerva does like to be prepared. Here you are dear.”

She handed it to Ginny who slit open the envelope and silently scanned it.

As she reached the end of the page she hissed angrily, “They can't do that, that's not fair!”

Mrs Weasley looked up from where she had resumed her conversation with Hermione. “What's not fair dear?”

Raising distraught, tear-filled eyes from the parchment she whined, “They're reopening Hogwarts a month early because of all the commotion last year. I quote: due to the recent disturbances in staffing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the early closure of the school at the end of term due to structural concerns we have deemed it prudent to recommence teaching as soon as possible. It is therefore my duty to inform you that Hogwarts will reopen on the 1^st of August instead of the 1^st of September as per usual. How can they do that?! I hate her, evil bi -”

“Ginerva Weasley, mind your tongue! If you're going to use language like that then I think that it's high time you went back to school and learned some manners.” With that she swept out of the kitchen closing the door smartly behind her.

A tense silence ensued before Ron piped up, “Never mind Gin, we'll all think of you when we're sitting in the sunshine.”

For a brief moment Harry was sure she was considering whether life in Azkaban was worth murdering her brother for, before she turned on her heel and flounced out of the room leaving Ron grinning in her wake. As the echoes of doors slamming upstairs died, Ron's expression became mixed with reluctance as he turned to Harry. “You know mate, I never thought I'd say this, but sometimes I wonder why you put up with her… Sorry.” He blushed as he mistook Harry's astonishment. Harry on the other hand felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Well Ron if it makes you feel any better I never thought I'd hear you say that either.” And he began to laugh in relief, which set Ron off, and Hermione, after looking at the two of them in confusion for a moment began giggling too. As the three of them sat laughing in the kitchen Harry felt as though things were back to normal, or as normal as his life had ever been. What with rescuing people, learning to defend himself and being entered into deadly competitions - not to mention being pursued by an evil psycho nutcase for the majority of his life - normality as other people knew it was never really something he had ever fully experienced. It was at that moment that it hit him, suddenly really hit him that he was free of Voldemort forever now. He could do whatever he wanted with the rest of his life and stop seeing the future as something that may only last for another few years. He could make plans, have a family, go on vacations and for the first time in his life, be normal.

The day before Hermione was due to leave Harry was lying on his bed reading his much battered copy of Quidditch through the Ages when Ron walked into the room looking slightly dazed. Harry watched him as he crossed the room, stretched out on his bed, stared up at the violently orange roof and let out a long sigh.

“Well I guess that's it then.”

Sensing that for once Ron wanted to talk - properly talk - Harry marked the page in his book and focused his attention on his friend. “What's what?”

Glancing over at him Ron shrugged, crossed his arms behind his head and said finally, “me and Hermione… We're over.”

“Oh - sorry mate.” Harry didn't really know what to say so he settled for a rather lame, “what happened?”

Ron smiled crookedly as he related the details. “Well - I suppose it was mutual really, but I didn't have the heart to end it. We were sitting outside just now, talking about God knows what, watching the butterflies... Then Hermione just sort of asked me out of the blue where I saw myself in five years time; so we started talking about the future and then us arguing and she hinted that she would prefer to be friends. We'll probably get on better that way anyway.”

Although Harry had secretly suspected that his friends would break up, he hadn't envisaged this outcome. When he had thought about it he had imagined they'd go out with a blazing row and then sit and sulk for days. Ron was being remarkably calm and philosophical about it all - which was unlike him in any situation - and he even seemed vaguely pleased about the turn of events.

“So are you to still speaking to each other or will I have to become an owl again?”

Ron smirked. “ Yeah, mate, about that I'm sorry we put you through a rough time with that. We can both be a pain when we want to be.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hey! Your not supposed to agree with me.” Ron sniffed disdainfully. “You aren't exactly easy to live with either you know.”

For a moment the two of them just laughed before he continued, “ Hermione and me, we weren't meant to last, maybe if things had been different…” Seeing that Harry was about to interrupt he rushed on. “Don't get me wrong I don't regret my choices for a minute. I just meant that…” He gestured vaguely, unable to put his thoughts into words. “Well, we'll get on better as friends. I do care about her, just not in that way, or not enough anyway.”

Harry was surprised, and faintly impressed, that Ron was mature enough to analyse his feelings like this and behave like the adult that the wizarding world, though maybe not his mother, saw him as. He let the subject lie at that, but for some reason, and he couldn't put his finger on it, he felt that things were slowly returning to their natural order.

The next morning a rather tearful Hermione stood in the kitchen surrounded by Ron, Harry, and both the Mrs Weasley's. The rest of the men had already said their goodbye's before leaving for work and Ginny had refused to come down from her room. Harry hadn't even bothered trying to make her. If she was going to behave like a sulky toddler then she was the one who looked stupid.

At present a rather uncomfortable looking Hermione was being tightly hugged by Fleur who could not repeat enough how much she would miss her. When she had finally been released she turned to Harry and Ron.

“Well, goodbye then. I don't know how long I'll be gone for, but it shouldn't be more than a month or two. Once I find Mum and Dad I'm not sure what'll happen but I'll keep in touch and let you know. Goodbye Ron.” She enveloped him in a tight hug. Harry hadn't managed to talk to her about the break up yet, but she seemed happy enough and ever since, she and Ron had been getting on better than they had in years.

“Try and keep out of mischief when I'm away you two. I'll miss you, but I think I just need a bit of time as well to sort things out… with everything that's happened. Bye Harry.” She stood on tiptoe to give him a peck on the cheek and quickly turned to give Mrs Weasley a hug.

Because she had her back to him now Harry couldn't tell what she was thinking, but he knew he must be blushing furiously. Which was odd, as Hermione, and other girls for that matter had kissed him on the cheek before. It was just that -

“Well bye then everyone!” Hermione turned to the fireplace with a smile over her shoulder. “Wish me luck.” She took a handful of Floo powder, threw it into the flames and in a roaring flash of green she was gone.

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As the last weeks of July passed the household adjusted to Hermione's absence. Harry divided his time between hanging out with Ron, whether lounging in the garden or playing Quidditch, and replying to Hermione's rather long letters. If it had been up to Ginny the two of them would have spent every waking minute together, but Harry, unsure what to do about his demanding girlfriend, did his best to avoid her and Mrs Weasley conveniently insisted on taking her out to shop for new school supplies. Occasionally Harry wondered whether or not his friend was aware of his cooling feelings towards Ginny. At times when she managed to corner the two of them in the garden Ron would give him a sympathetic and understanding look before slipping away.

It could be that Ron was just relishing his newfound single status. Splitting up with Hermione didn't seem to have done his moods any harm at all; on the contrary he was happier now than Harry had seen him in months and when Hermione wrote her weekly novel to him Ron actually replied. Even more surprising was what happened the day Luna came to visit.

It was the week before she and Ginny were due to return to Hogwarts and the four of them had all been sitting in the garden watching one of the gnomes try to surreptitiously steal one of Percy's wellies - which was far too heavy for it to carry. Suddenly Ginny had decided that she and Harry had been asked to clean out the chicken coop and dragged him off inside. Annoyed at her rudeness in abandoning her friend and irritated by her fawning he feigned ignorance in her motives and rushed off to the see the chickens leaving a bewildered Ginny standing in the kitchen. By the time he got back to the garden she was nowhere to be seen. Ron and Luna however looked pretty content sitting side by side under the apple tree laughing at some joke Ron had made. Harry had watched them silently from a far corner of the garden, making sure they didn't spot him, and smiled as he saw Luna tenderly brush a blossom out of Ron's hair. Quietly he had slipped away.

Harry felt he aught to sort things out with Ginny before she left for school, but it never felt like the right time. If he was honest with himself he was too much of a coward to risk the damage it might do to his friendship with Ron, and he obviously didn't want to break her heart. Finally it was the night before she was due to leave and he felt that it was now or never. He found her sitting in the kitchen, unusually sombre, staring into a cup of hot chocolate. As he entered the kitchen she looked up at him and beamed, all trace of solemnity gone, and he felt his heart sink. Taking a deep breath he managed to speak. “Ginny we really need to talk.”

“Sure,” she patted the seat next to her, “take a seat.”

He gave a twitchy shake of the head to indicate he would rather stand and launched into the speech he had been rehearsing for days.

“You see Ginny the thing is… the thing is you're going off to Hogwarts tomorrow and we might not see each other again until Christmas and anything might happen during that time. I feel as if this is just the start of my life. I don't have anything hanging over me anymore and I just want to take life as it comes without having anything tying me down. The thing is… I think maybe it would be best for both of us if we called it off…” His speech trailed off under her pitying gaze. To be honest he was slightly confused; where was the anger and indignation that he had expected? She didn't even seem slightly upset.

“Alright Harry I see where this is going.”

“You… you do?”

Ginny sighed patiently, “Of course, you think that I'll have my head turned by all the guys at school who have a crush on me. Well you don't need to worry about it, you're the only man for me. You -”

“No Ginny, I don't think you do understand. I don't think we're working as a couple. We should end it for good.”

Ginny shrugged in that annoying, self-confident manner that she had and got up to leave the kitchen. “Alright Harry, whatever you say.”

She left him standing there feeling disorientated; the conversation hadn't gone the way he'd planned at all. It was all he'd thought about all week and she certainly hadn't reacted in any of the ways he'd expected, angry? -Yes- tears? -Almost certainly- but accepting it? That was not a Ginny-like reaction at all. With a sinking feeling that he hadn't heard the last of this, Harry left the kitchen.

The next day at the train station he hardly spoke to her and she seemed equally keen on avoiding him. Everyone got a huge hug before she boarded the train, but she very pointedly ignored Harry, which was fine by him, it gave him hope that she had realised he was being serious about the break-up. Harry was still in shock at how accepting Ron had been at this latest turn of events, unlike Ginny he was fully aware that the situation was permanent, but he didn't even seem marginally annoyed. It was almost as though he had, like Harry with Ron and Hermione, expected it. He almost seemed to agree that Harry had done the right thing, although Harry wasn't sure if this had more to do with how obviously childish his sister had been or Luna's new influence. Secretly he believed it was Luna.

It all seemed to have happened very suddenly one minute Luna was simply regarded as a slightly batty friend, the next Ron blushed whenever she was mentioned. Harry wasn't even sure when this transition had occurred, perhaps it was an attraction that had been there all along but Ron had never realised it because he had been so caught up with Hermione. Perhaps Ron was just relishing in his singledom, but Harry doubted it, Ron was far too decent a guy to muck around with a girl's feelings for fun - with the obvious exception of Lavender of course, although that had been more for revenge than fun. Before she got on the train Luna came over and gave both boys a peck on the cheek, to Ginny's obvious disdain, although the kiss Ron received looked far less distracted than Harry's.

As Ron blushed furiously the train began to move and Luna dashed to jump on. The two girls waved frantically at the Weasley's, Harry and Mr Lovegood who had just appeared behind them.

“Goodbye Daddy, see you at Christmas! Bye Harry, goodbye Ronald.”

“It feels weird,” Ron remarked as he continued to wave at the departing blonde, “not being on the train. I mean, I know we weren't last year but then we didn't even come to the station. It's just strange watching the train leave.”

“The train or Luna?” Harry laughed as he ducked away from Ron's punch. It was true though. For once Ron knew what he was talking about; Harry did have mixed feelings as he watched the scarlet steam engine glide out of the station amidst the billowing smoke. If he was honest with himself though, his main emotion was relief. Ginny was on that train and it was moving away from him. He shouldn't think like that, and a part of him hated himself for it, but he did. It was just the way things were now.

As they turned to leave the station, Harry began to notice the sheer amount of people - both children and adults alike - who were staring at him. He had been aware of it on his way in and he realised it was bound to increase now that everyone knew how he had gotten rid of Voldemort for good, there had been nothing else in the papers all summer, but now that the train had gone it seemed as though every single person on the platform was staring at him. Embarrassed he grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him towards the enchanted archway.

“C'mon,” he muttered, “let's get out of here.”

The two of them sat in silence in Mr Weasley's car on the way back to the Burrow. From the look on Ron's face Harry guessed he was thinking about Luna, but for himself he was just glad to finally get a moments peace from Ginny after months of her constant chatter. The reaction of the people on the platform had also brought him back to earth with a bump, the last few months had been relatively normal; now he realised just how sheltered from the reaction of the Wizarding world he had been. His only real source of outside news had been Hermione, and she had carefully vetted her letters so that they left omitted things like that. She knew him too well.

When they reached the burrow, Harry got out of the car only to be promptly bowled over by an overly excited tawny owl flying at his head. Rather dazed he stood up brushing the dust from his jeans as he did so, only to be forced to duck again as the bird made another pass at him.

“Ok, ok, ok! Give me the letter then.” He stuck his arm out and winced as the owls talons sunk into it on landing. “Ouch you little demon, watch what you're doing.”

It was a hired post owl judging by the band around its leg, and they were notoriously unpredictable, so he knew who it was from even before he checked the address. Removing the letter from the owl's leg, Harry's face lit up as he turned it over and saw the neat precise handwriting on the front. Hermione.

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After having paid the post owl, Harry rushed inside - ignoring the twinge in his arm - to read the letter in peace. Casting off his jacket and trainers he stretched out on his camp bed and ripped open the envelope.

Dear Harry

How are you? I hope the weather at home is even half as nice as it is down-under, because here it's fantastic. Right now I'm looking out of the window and the only cloud I can see looks like a huge fluffy dragon. When I mentioned this to Mum and Dad, Mum said something about being able to see a real one, which made me laugh.

And yes, as you may have guessed, I have finally found my parents! They've been living here in Perth all along; they were even in the process of setting up a second dentist's surgery before I removed the memory charm. As for that, they were rather annoyed that I had done it at first, but now they are just glad that I am safe. The last few days have been rather hectic which is why I haven't written - sorry about that by the way - Mum and Dad have been getting reacquainted with their old selves and we've had to decide what we're going to do now. I think Mum might want to stay here for good, or at the very least keep the house that the bought, I'm not sure how Dad feels about that though. To be honest I'm not even sure how I feel about it, I love Australia, it's the most amazing place I've ever been to (except perhaps Hogwarts.) Saying that it's still not home.

I really miss you, and Ron, I wish you could both be here, but I did choose to come on my own and it's lovely to spend time with my parents after a whole year of being away. How are Ron and Luna getting along? She must be away to Hogwarts by now. I think she may be the best thing that could ever happen to Ron, has he realised it yet? I thought it was so funny, but also incredibly sweet when you told me about them in the garden. I can just imagine him with apple blossoms caught in his hair. He hasn't mentioned her in any of his letters, but that only backs up your theory that he has a huge crush on her!

You must write back soon Harry, I miss you so much.

Lots of love, Hermione.

P.S how's Ginny?

The excitement Harry had felt on opening the letter had quickly dwindled as he continued to read. Hermione might be staying in Australia for good; she might never come back! Well not permanently anyway. It was like being told that your leg was going to be removed for no obvious reason. He just couldn't comprehend life without someone as vital as Hermione. His reflective mood was suddenly shattered by Ron as he came stomping into the room.

“Mum says she won't make dinner for another two hours, she's gonna wait till Perce comes home from his work! And she says I can't have anything to eat till then. What am I supposed to do, starve to death? Ugh.”

Harry grinned, it was nice to know some things never changed.

As the weeks progressed Hermione's letters became less frequent - a very un-Hermione-ish thing in itself - and Harry could only assume that she was either very busy with her parents or, and this was what he dreaded, she was trying to distance herself in preparation for a permanent move to Australia. It wasn't until she had said she might never be coming back that he realised how much he missed her. She was just as, if not more, important to him as Ron but she filled a different space in his life. It was something he couldn't quite define; the more he thought about it the farther away he felt from the answer.

To pass time he and Ron decided they would both apply to become Auror's, since they enlisted every October. Since they hadn't returned for seventh year, and therefore hadn't actually achieved their N.E.W.T's, Harry wasn't sure whether they would get in. But as Ron pointed out, who was going to turn down the Boy-Who-Lived? Sometimes being famous had its merits. They spent a whole afternoon sitting in the garden trying to work out what to write on their application forms. Ron was all for exploiting the Voldemort angle, but after some persuasion he agreed to keep it sensible and only mention it to explain why they didn't have their qualifications. What he did complain about though was the fact that there wasn't a section to list your experience in dealing with the Dark Arts.

“I'd need a whole book for that anyway,” Harry joked.

The next morning they left for the Ministry with Percy and Mr Weasley. They parted ways in the atrium, now thankfully devoid of the “Magic is Might” statue, and made their way down to Level two. It was the first time either of them had been in the building since they had stolen the locket from Umbridge. Although there was little chance they would meet her today, she had been promptly fired after the Battle at Hogwarts. Harry glanced across at his friend as they stood in the lift and smiled slightly as he seemed to have turned a sickly shade of green - he looked like he was going to start vomiting slugs again.

“Ron, they're not going to ask you to hug a spider, all you've got to do is hand in the form.”

As the grill slid open Harry had to duck or risk losing an eye as several message planes swooped into the lift to circle around the ceiling. The Auror office was just as Harry remembered it - a bit more cluttered perhaps and with different mugshots pinned up, but essentially the same. The two of them approached the cubicle that had a large sign spellotaped to it reading ENQUIRIES HERE.

“Ahem.” Harry knocked on the side of a panel to get the attention of the witch inside. A pair of sharp grey eyes looked up at him from behind thick framed, black glasses. He thought she must be about twenty five and probably quite pretty if she smiled; right now however, red lips pursed as her eyes flicked from him to Ron and his squint tie.

“Yes?”

“We…” Harry cleared his throat again, “we came to hand in these application forms…” He trailed off again as she raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Aware he was starting to blush he thrust the sheets of paper at her. She took them with a reluctant, “I'll pass them on,” lazily flicking her eyes across the top of the page. She paused as she read his name, her eyes automatically raking his forehead for confirmation. In a flash her whole demeanour changed.

“I'll make sure someone looks at these today,” she beamed at him, showing every one of her pearly white teeth before turning her megawatt smile on Ron. “Someone will get back to you shortly.”

They turned to leave the office and were almost to the door when they heard a strangled voice behind them. “Excuse me!” The young woman, who had turned scarlet, was rushing towards them. “Would you mind - could I have your autographs?” She produced a pad of paper and passed it to him.

Harry darted a surprised glance at Ron, who merely rolled his eyes, before scribbling his name on the piece of paper. Then to Ron's astonishment she pulled the paper out of Harry's hands and thrust it at him as well.

Needless to say Ron left the Auror office that day with a huge grin on his face and decidedly pink ears. He couldn't wait to get home and tell his mother that he had given an autograph. But Harry had other ideas; the witch's behaviour had given him an idea. Other than in the immediate aftermath of the Battle, and the stares he received at the station, he had managed to avoid facing up to his saviour status. The encounter with the witch however, had shown him just how much of a celebrity he had become in the intervening time; and how much influence he might have. So much had happened since the night of Ron and Hermione's last argument that he had - almost - forgotten his promise to Mr Weasley. Quickly he conveyed his idea to Ron as the two of them made their way back to the lift.

“So what do you think?” he asked. Of all people he didn't want Ron to think he was throwing his weight around.

“Harry,” Ron deadpanned, “if you asked people to dance naked up Diagon Alley I'm sure they'd be happy to do it just because it was you who asked.”

Harry decided to ignore that last remark.

After taking four wrong turns they eventually found the department they were looking for. Five desks in varying states of disarray filled a long, narrow room which ended in a door bearing an official looking brass nameplate. Harry approached the closest desk and said in what he hoped was an authoritative voice, “Excuse me, my name's Harry Potter. Could I speak to -” he squinted at the distant door, “Archibald Willoughby please?”

The young, dishevelled looking, wizard leapt out of his seat with alacrity squeaking, “Yes Mr Potter sir!” before speeding off up the room. A muffled snort of laughter behind him caused Harry to turn. Standing just inside the door they had entered by, Ron was quietly killing himself laughing, his face had gone bright red trying to hold it in. catching Harry's eye he grinned wickedly.

“Yes Mr Potter sir,” he mimicked.

One thing that Harry soon discovered about Archie Willoughby was that if left to his own devices he babbled incessantly. “Mr Potter, and Mr Weasley I presume? It's such an honour…”

A middle-aged short, rather tubby, gentleman, Willoughby possessed a quantity of curly, tawny hair which he was sadly losing at the front. Instead of ordinary wizard robes he had opted to wear a tweed suit and waistcoat paired with a canary yellow bowtie. Around his neck he had little notes to himself hanging on a chain flashing different colours depending on how urgent they were.

“… as you can see the office is quite small…” needless to say Harry liked him immensely already.

“…caught us on a bit of an off day I'm afraid, it's not usually -”

“Mr Willoughby,” Ron cut across him. “We are here to speak to you about having a memorial put up at Hogwarts.”

“Ah, yes. Say no more.” He beckoned them towards his office.

Once they were in and seated he proceeded to rifle through the notes on the chain before producing one that was an alarming scarlet. “I knew I had forgotten something, I always do you know. Arthur mentioned this to me a few weeks ago, unfortunately we had just received word that a new wing needed to be built on the fifth floor - not to mention the secrecy charms around Stonehenge had to be replaced. I'm afraid we've been very busy.”

Harry smiled, he sounded just like Neville with his Rememberall. “Well, you see many of the people who died were close friends of ours and Ron's… brother, he - anyway we felt something to commemorate what they gave to the world would be appropriate. If money's an issue then I'm sure -”

“No need, no need, for something like this I'm sure we'll have plenty of sponsors. As I say I'll get onto it right away. It's time we did something about this. I'll contact some stonecharmers this afternoon.”

Harry stood up, beaming at him. “Thank you, thank you very much.” He shook his hand warmly, followed by Ron who seemed to have become rather watery-eyed all of a sudden. As they stood in the corridor afterwards, Ron turned to him. “You know everyone treats us differently now because they think we're heroes or something stupid, but you know what I realised in there? We're just two guys who happened to come along and get in the way of a nutcase. The real heroes are Fred and Lupin, people like them who had less of a choice than us but gave everything anyway. They should be the ones signing autographs, not us.”

Harry clapped him on the shoulder, “Well said mate. They'd be proud of you you know.”

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At first, Harry was unsure how to reply to Hermione's letter. Should he tell her what he really thought about her staying in Australia? Although if it was what she wanted to do and it made her happy… And he hadn't even gotten round to mentioning Ginny yet; for some inexplicable reason he was worried that the news of their break-up might change his relationship with Hermione. Eventually he settled for ignoring the fact that she might never come back and only saying that as Ginny hadn't written to him he had no idea how she was. He was aware that the letter ended up sounding terse and detached but he wasn't sure how he could change it. Writing had never been one of his strong points.

He wasn't really sure when things had changed between himself and Hermione, but somehow they had. Perhaps it was just the stress of the last year, but Harry had been certain that the trio's friendship had been strong enough to survive that. Whatever the reason, Hermione's letters were a lot less frequent - although he noticed that Ron still got them twice a week. Despite the gap that had appeared between the two of them Harry still missed her heaps. There was no one there to roll your eyes with when Ron did something daft or to bring the two of them back down to earth with a bump when they hatched another scheme to pass the time.

True to his word Archie Willoughby got back to them in just under a week. Harry had awoken to discover that Ron had already gone downstairs, presumably in search of breakfast. He lay there for a moment listening to the reinstated ghoul clanking around in the attic before pulling on his dressing gown and glasses and making his way to the kitchen. Stumbling sleepily down the last flight of stairs he heard Ron talking to someone, and so was momentarily confused when he entered the room to find no one there. Frowning he spotted Ron crouched by the fireplace - toast in hand - looking at a drawing.

“Harry,” Ron heard him come in, “come and look at this for a minute.”

As Harry neared he saw the disembodied head of Archie Willoughby floating in the flames. He smiled when he saw Harry. “Good morning Mr Potter! I've just been showing young Weasley here the sketch of the monument.”

Ron passed him a parchment showing a sizeable chunk of stone depicting and outsider's idea of the Battle. Actually it was more a carving of a group of people, house-elves and centaurs charging towards the viewer in what Harry supposed was meant to be a heroic manner. Hardly an accurate representation of the devastation. This covered two of the faces, the other visible side showed squiggly lines meant to represent writing.

“It's very…” Harry searched for the right word, “impressive.” If he was honest it was a bit more ostentatious than he had envisaged, but then again it wasn't for him.

“There's going to be an unveiling ceremony on Friday, we'd be honoured if you would both attend, and perhaps Miss Granger too? You've all been sent official invites. We even wondered if perhaps you would give a speech,” Willoughby looked at Harry who was now gaping at him. “Is something wrong? Are the designs not to your taste? I could maybe -”

“No, no! They're fine, I - you built this in a week?!”

Archie Willoughby's head managed to look surprised and relieved at the same time. “Well, yes. We had the best stonecharmers in the country working on it all week, it's not totally complete yet and some of the minor details diverge from the initial sketch, but it's essentially the same.”

“Is it going to have their names on it?” All of a sudden Ron looked serious. “Because it should you know, they should be remembered. All of them.”

“Yes of course,” Willoughby assured him, “and we also considered -”

“Shhh!” Harry hissed, “someone's coming. You've got to go, now!” He flapped his hands agitatedly in Willoughby's direction. By mutual consensus neither he or Ron had told the Weasley's about their detour at the Ministry, in case they got their hopes up and Archie had failed to come through on his promise. Now that he had, Harry felt that they should hear it from them, or wait until their invites to the ceremony arrived. In any case he wanted Willoughby out of the fire place now before the surprise was spoiled, he wasn't sure what the family's reaction might be, especially Mrs Weasley.

Mr Willoughby nodded once in understanding and with a gurgling pop his head vanished from the fire. Not a moment too soon Mrs Weasley breezed into the kitchen.

“Morning boys, let's see about some breakfast shall we?”

Two days later, the invites arrived. It was also the day that news of the memorial hit the press courtesy of one Rita Skeeter. Archie Willoughby had wanted the whole thing kept under wraps until the invites were sent out, but somehow, and perhaps unsurprisingly, Rita got there first. It was mid morning and Harry, Ron and the remaining Weasley's had been about to leave on a trip to Diagon Alley to visit George, who had returned to the flat above the shop. They were all clustered in the kitchen putting on travelling clothes, and in Ron's case finishing his breakfast, when suddenly two owls swooped in the open window. One landed on Harry's shoulder whilst the other took up a perch on the back of a chair. Reaching up he removed the owl from his shoulder, retrieved the proffered newspaper and then paid it before letting it fly back out the window. Quickly he unrolled the Daily Prophet as Ron tried to coax the mail from the slightly less compliant owl on the chair.

“So what's the news today then Harry?” Mr Weasley asked.

Harry took one look at the headline: Hogwarts remembers the fallen, and pulled the paper away from Mr Weasley's waiting hands.

“Mmm… let's see,” he tried to stall whilst coming up with a reason not to show them the paper, or possibly just an explanation of why they hadn't told them earlier what he and Ron had done. It had, after all, been Mr Weasley's idea in the first place. He attempted to surreptitiously scan Rita's article to see whether or not she looked upon the idea favourably.

Thankfully, at that moment Ron got the post away from the possessive owl - with several minor cuts to show for his efforts - and handed the post to his father.

“What in the world could this be? It's from the Ministry.” He slit open the official purple seal and read the thick parchment inside. “Archie never mentioned this!” He exclaimed as he finished. “Although knowing him he probably forgot.”

“What is it dear?” Mrs Weasley rushed over worriedly and began reading over his shoulder. “… delighted to invite… on Friday afternoon - an unveiling ceremony for a memorial at Hogwarts! Oh Arthur, Archie must have carried out your idea after all.” She beamed up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Actually,” Ron began, “Harry and I -”

Harry stepped heavily sideways onto Ron's foot.

“Ouch! Erm… yeah we'd love to go, wouldn't we Harry?”

Harry nodded quickly as Mrs Weasley smiled at him, “of course you shall dear, we all will, for - for Fred.” She dabbed at her eyes with the edge of her cloak.

“I theenk eet is a wonderful idea!” Purred Fleur - she and Bill were due to return to Shell Cottage the next day. “C'est magnifique. But we must now go to tell George no?”

Mrs Weasley smiled at her daughter-in-law; their relationship had steadily improved over the summer with Molly ever hopeful for a grandchild.

“Yes we must.” Taking a handful of Floo powder she threw it into the fire and vanished as the rest of the family and Harry followed suit.

Friday morning dawned clear and bright with only a few clouds to mar the unending blue sky. At half past twelve Harry, Ron Percy and their parents apparated to Hogsmeade where they were to meet with the rest of Ron's family - minus Ginny of course who was at the school anyway. To tell the truth he was a bit nervous about having to face Ginny today. It was supposed to be a day for remembering those who had made the ultimate sacrifice to ensure that Voldemort was defeated, he didn't want that ruined because she ignored him or made a scene.

George was the last of the group to arrive, looking extremely pale - a fact that was exacerbated by the lurid green robes he was wearing. After he had extricated himself from his mother's embrace the solemn party made their way towards the school gates. Once they were in the grounds they just had time to see other groups, both students and families, drifting around on the lawn before they were accosted by Archie Willoughby.

“Welcome Arthur… oh and Mr Potter and Mr Weasley too I see. Arthur this must be your family, do introduce me.”

As Archie greeted the rest of the family, Harry and Ron quietly detached themselves from the group and headed towards the castle. A huge marquee had been set up next to the lake - only about two hundred yards away from Dumbledore's grave - with some wooden garden seats outside next to a small group of musicians playing a ballad. It was quite odd, Harry thought, to be back at the school but no longer be a pupil. He felt the castle should look different somehow, but it was still the same as ever. Even all the evidence of the Battle had been cleared away and repaired. Except of course it wasn't the same: Dumbledore's grave was there across the lake, alone and aloof - as he had been in life, and then there was the new memorial next to the tent shrouded in red velvet. However there was a different feeling to the place, a strange quality to the air. It was filled with memories and the lost promise of the lives that had been given up. His reverie was painfully disrupted when Ron pinched him sharply on the arm and hissed, “it's her, what do I do?”

`Her' turned out to be Luna who was absently making her way towards them with Dean and Neville in tow.

“Hello Ronald, hi Harry - look who I found.” The way she said it made the two boys behind her sound like two particularly interesting plant specimens - known only to Luna - that she had found under a bush. Harry hadn't seen either of the boys since a few days after the Battle, but after several awkward `how are you's?' the five of them were chatting away quite amicably.

Half way through a conversation with Neville about the herbology apprenticeship he had taken up, Harry became aware that Dean had fallen silent. Looking over he was surprised to see him glaring across at Ron and Luna who were completely oblivious, laughing at something Luna had said. Harry could have kicked himself; he'd suspected Dean had feelings for Luna at Shell Cottage. What an idiot he was, he should have warned Ron!

Harry was saved from having to violently attract Ron's attention by none other than Archie Willoughby who, having discovered that they had escaped him, had come over to talk to them again. Making excuses to their three friends he ushered Ron and Harry into the tent and turned to them gravely.

“Now gentlemen, if you remember when we spoke last I mentioned the possibility of you giving a speech at the unveiling,” he addressed them both but it was Harry he looked at, “and I wondered if you had had a chance to prepare anything? You see we thought it might be quite fitting if we had another speech once the Minister had spoken. Perhaps give a slightly more personal angle, the view of the man… er, people who were at the epicentre of the struggle? What do you think? I realise this is quite short notice and I didn't really get a chance to talk about it properly before, but what do you say eh? Give it a go?” He eventually rambled to a stop.

“Well actually,” Harry started, “Ron has prepared something.” He could tell that Willoughby was trying to conceal his surprise and slight disappointment as he turned to look at Ron.

“You- you have? That's fantastic then. I'll go and let the Minister know at once,” and he bustled off looking perplexed.

Ron looked sideways at his friend.” Are you still sure?” he asked for the millionth time. Harry just rolled his eyes. It had taken him a while to persuade Ron that if anyone gave a speech it should be him. Lord knows he, Harry, didn't want too, he still felt far too guilty about everyone's deaths. Speaking at a memorial about them would feel far too hypocritical somehow, and he certainly didn't want any more notoriety. Besides Ron had much more right to speak than he ever would, his brother had died and two other members of his family had been seriously injured defending the wizarding world. He thought that speaking about it in public like this might give Ron some closure - although psychobabble was really Hermione's area of expertise. It would also give Ron some of the recognition he so desperately deserved.

Aware that the music had stopped and people seemed to be drifting towards the cloaked memorial Harry took a reluctant Ron by the arm and literally dragged him over to rejoin the rest of the Weasley's. Ginny had turned up from somewhere and was now standing calmly next to her parents, when she saw Harry she flashed him a radiant smile which he returned somewhat reluctantly.

Suddenly applause swept through the assembled crowd as Kingsley ascended the platform that had been erected next to the memorial. He was dressed much more smartly than Harry had ever seen him and his earring had been removed. From all that he had heard Kingsley was proving to be quite popular as Minister for Magic, stabilising the country after all the recent turmoil. His eyes swept the large audience acknowledging those he knew with a brief nod and then began to speak. It was mostly about the brave sacrifices that had been made, by pupils and staff, humans and magical creatures alike. About rebuilding new worlds from the ashes of the old, taking the best of the past and forging a new future for the wizarding world. It was about never forgetting what was owed to those who fought and recognizing the value of what had been given up. Irrespective of his policies, Kingsley was a great public speaker; he captured his audience's attention and held it. Harry even saw many people tearing up at his words, although that could just be the emotion of the day. As his speech drew to a close, the new Minister for Magic turned to the memorial and took hold of the edge of the scarlet fabric.

“And now I would like to present to you, a memorial, not only to those who died in the fight against You-know-who, but to all those who suffered during his reign of terror.” And with a flourish he pulled off the covering.

Harry's first impression of it was that it was much bigger than he had thought it would be. At least fifteen feet high it was rather like a standing stone, but with four faces rather than two. The crowd were all standing in front of a face depicting half the battle, which curved around the side of the rock. The most obvious deviation from the sketch that Harry noticed was a tiny carving of a giant - presumably Grawp - in the background. A loud sniff behind Harry made him turn, at the back of the crowd stood that self same giant and his brother. Hagrid had his huge spotted handkerchief out and was dabbing at his eyes whilst Grawp patted him, rather forcefully, on the back. Harry smiled and turned back to hear Kingsley announce that Mr Ronald Weasley would like to say a few words.

It was at this point that Ron's nerves got the better of him. Harry felt his friend freeze beside him and mutter to himself “I can't go up there - I can't.”

“Ron go!” he hissed trying to push his best friend forwards. Ron shuffled a few steps before stopping again and looking anxiously back at Harry.

“Do I have to?” he mouthed at him. Harry just glared at him in response until Ron turned reluctantly back to the stage and walked up to the platform. As he turned to face the audience Ron's ears were scarlet, it didn't help that some people were muttering to each other and shooting questioning glances at Harry. Ron gave Harry one last pleading look, to which he smiled encouragingly, before clearing his throat and beginning to speak.

“Right, er… well - the…”

“Speak up!” someone shouted from the back.

Ron fumbled for his wand trying to remember the correct spell and by this point resembling a particularly large radish. Harry took pity on him and removing his wand from his back pocket - a habit he had never been able to break - he silently cast a sonorous charm at his friend. He thought Ron might have noticed this intervention, he certainly gave him a grateful smile, but he didn't think that anyone else in the crowd noticed. Finally, with his audience becoming restless, Ron began to speak.

“The tragic thing about today is that the people who made it possible are no longer with us to appreciate it. If it weren't for their sacrifice you wouldn't be here listening to me speak - although maybe that's no bad thing.” He waited for a few chuckles to subside then continued, gaining confidence as he went. “Most of you will have lost someone, either a family member or a friend, if not then you'll know someone else who has. Voldemort's destruction left no one untouched,” even now the name elicited several gasps, “and the legacy he left behind was one of hate and suffering. The thing is though, you can't hate forever. At some point you've got to wall off the hurt and keep on living - for them. I know how difficult that can be; I lost my brother and more than a few good friends over the last year. At the end of the day I can't say that it's all to rebuild a wonderful new world full of champagne and roses, because I don't know what's going to happen. The future is what we make it.”

Ron broke off awkwardly as though embarrassed by his eloquence. “Ahem, I'd also like to say that we wouldn't be having this ceremony today if it weren't for one person in particular… my Dad. He wanted to do something to commemorate the life of the son and friends that he lost to be here today. So I think it is only right that we all acknowledge the part he had to play in bringing today about.” Beckoning his highly embarrassed father up onto the stage Ron joined in with the applause, which was lead by a madly cheering Weasley family. Harry looked over at them to see Mrs Weasley with tears streaming down her face, cheering as loudly as any of her sons, George and Percy were practically jumping up and down as they clapped and whistled for their father and brother. Ginny stood next to Bill who had his arm firmly ensconced around Fleur's shoulders, both looking extremely proud. And all of a sudden Harry felt extremely lonely. As much as the Weasley's treated him like family and he felt he at home with them, it still wasn't enough. If Hermione had been here then he would have had someone… but Hermione wasn't here was she? She was in Australia and might never be coming back. It was just all so -

“Oh my god Harry! I've never been so embarrassed in all my life. Why did I let you talk me into going up on that stage?”

Harry grinned at his friend, all trace of self-pity vanishing. “Don't give me that, you were brilliant up there. All that stuff about making your own tomorrow and soldiering on that was really inspired I could never have managed something like that. Besides you enjoyed every minute of it.”

Ron grinned back at him; he had as well.

A/N: OMG! I thought I would never finish this chapter, I didn't anticipate it being so long. The whole chapter just sort of ran away with me and editing has never been my strong suit. I'm not sure if the department Archie Willoughby runs would even exist - I imagine it to be some sort of building, planning and conservation dept - but I thought it would fit in with the story quite well and I loved his character so much that I just had to add him. I'm aware that Ron's speech was a bit out of character despite the fact that I had him maturing over the course of the story, but don't worry he hasn't suddenly grown a brain - well not a complete one anyway. But more on that later.

Hope to update soon, in the meantime please R&R!

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Ceremony over, Harry and the Weasley's were free to look at the memorial in greater detail. Walking round the side he slowly began to read the epitaph.

Those who are remembered here gave their lives to ensure the continued safety not only of the wizarding world, but of every human and magical creature alike. There is no safety without freedom, and no freedom without sacrifice. Those who must continue on into the new world they have forged must remember that those we have loved never truly leave us.

He smiled slightly as he read this last line.

Ron noticed. “What?”

“Dumbledore said that.” Harry looked across at his friend. “ About those we love never truly leaving us. The night after we saved Sirius in third year, when I thought I saw my Dad, he said that to me.”

Ron looked back at the inscription. “Smart guy that Dumbledore, knew what he was talking about.”

As Harry continued to move around the monument the final side came into view. Again it was covered in text, but this time it was a list of names of all those who had been killed in the defence of Hogwarts. Fred's name was there, and Lupin and Tonk's - although she was listed as Nymphadora Lupin - Colin Creevey, even, Harry felt his stomach clench, even Winky was there. He hadn't realised that she had died, hadn't even seen her fighting, no one had told him… Full of guilt Harry turned away from the memorial, only to swear volubly and turn back again as he spotted Rita Skeeter marching towards them.

“Ron, come on we've got to move!” He grabbed his friend's arm and hauled him off towards the tent hoping to lose her in the crowds around it.

“Harry,” Ron protested, “what's going on now? Where are we going?”

“Rita Skeeter's behind us. Let's just get out of her way shall we?”

Chancing a glance back over his shoulder he saw her craning around trying to catch sight of them. Dressed today in a set of fantastically overstated, acid green robes, her narrowed eyes raked the group gathered around the tent as she impatiently flicked her poisonous quill at her trailing photographer. Desperately Harry dragged Ron behind the tent flap just seconds before she spotted them.

“That woman!” exclaimed Ron. “She does my head in.”

Harry grinned as he looked around the tent. One side was filled with more tables and chairs and at the other -

“A buffet!” Ron immediately made his way towards it followed by an amused Harry.

As Ron helped himself to several types of cold meat sandwich, Harry checked once again that Rita hadn't managed to follow them into the marquee. Satisfied that they had eluded her for the moment he was just about to turn back to the food when he heard someone call his name and a familiar haughty face sailed out of the crowd. Andromeda Tonks looked older than she had when they last met; there were a few grey hairs creeping in and grief had added lines to her face, but the look she gave him was full of warmth.

“Harry, it really is nice to see you again - under more pleasant circumstances too. I don't believe you've met your godson yet?” She indicated the electric blue haired bundle in her arms.

For a second Harry wasn't sure what to say. Confronted with Remus' son he couldn't help but feel that he should be the one standing here instead of Harry. When Harry had seen a picture of him back in April, Teddy Lupin had been nothing more than a tiny scrap of humanity, but now he was beginning to turn into a real little person. A set of dark, inquisitive eyes were turned upon Harry as his grandmother pointed him out to Teddy. There was something about the little baby that reminded Harry very strongly of it's father, it wasn't a particular feature or a look but…

Suddenly the baby chuckled and reached out a tiny, chubby hand to pull at the front of Harry's jumper, distracting him from his thoughts.

“Hey little guy,” Harry tickled his little godson, “wow, look how much you've grown.” Now he realised that he hadn't even bothered to visit him all summer. Some godparent he was turning out to be.

“How have you been Mrs Tonks?”

“Oh holding up I suppose, soldiering on. Teddy keeps me company don't you little man? Looking after him keeps me occupied and stops me from dwelling on things. Ted and Dora wouldn't have wanted me to fall apart.”

Once again Harry found himself in the situation he had been in countless times at the start of the summer. Wanting to say something to comfort the bereaved and not knowing what. Andromeda however carried on, “could you hold Teddy for me a moment Harry, you can both get to know each other, there's someone I've just spotted that I want to speak to?”

“Oh - er - erm… yeah I suppose so.” Awkwardly he accepted the boy who promptly reached up to try and take his glasses.

“Thank you, I won't be a minute. Oh and Ronald,” she turned to the red-head standing with his mouth half full, “that was a wonderful speech you gave. Truly inspirational.” And with a regal nod in their direction she swept off in search of someone.

Harry turned back to look at Ron in time to see him looking guiltily pleased.

“What?” Ron asked seeing Harry's look. “Don't look at me like that, I haven't done anything.”

Harry continued to look sceptical, but didn't pursue it further because he had to concentrate on not dropping Teddy - who had started to squirm as soon as his grandmother had disappeared. Looking around he spotted a free seat not far away and carried the baby over to it all the while making what he hoped were cooey baby noises. As he sat and arranged the infant on his lap, Teddy gave a huge yawn and promptly turned his hair a more sombre, midnight shade of blue.

“You know Teddy,” Harry couldn't help but laugh, “you are one cool kid!”

Eventually Harry managed to settle the baby in a position that seemed comfortable for them both. Teddy wrapped his tiny fist around Harry's forefinger and began to dose.

“You're a natural father Harry.”

“Ron when you pay me compliments it's usually because you want something or you're trying to hide something. What have you done?”

“Nothing! I'm hurt that you have so little trust in me.” His friend affected mock outrage, before looking sheepish. “Well, okay then. You know how my speech was quite good? All those bits about a world of champagne or whatever and walling of pain? Well I… I got that mostly from Hermione.” His ears turned red as he looked studiously at Teddy.

“Hermione? Ah that explains so much. She's still writing to you then? You haven't fallen out?” He tried to sound flippant, but inside he was quite hurt. He suspected that Ron had still been getting letters, having confirmation of that though made him… what? Jealous? Of Ron and Hermione?

“Yeah. I meant to ask you about that, what do you think about this Joey guy she's met?”

Harry paused, somehow dreading what Ron would say next. “Joey? Joey who?”

“Oh, has she not mentioned him to you? Well she only mentioned him to me briefly, but I think they might be dating. Not that I mind I mean I've got… well I just thought that she - never mind.”

Harry felt the blood leave his face as his heart dropped to his shoes. It took him a few moments to fully comprehend what Ron had said and as a result he didn't hear the rest of his sentence. Hermione was dating someone? Her Aussie neighbour? She was dating someone who wasn't Ron or, if he was being perfectly honest, who wasn't Harry? Because when his brain finally started processing coherent thoughts again it was the first thing that popped into his head - that should be me. Suddenly all the awkwardness and strangeness he had felt around Hermione was explained. He was in love with his best friend and he had been too blind and too stupid to realise it until now. It had taken losing her to make him see that, and now it was too late. Over the last year, maybe even his entire time at Hogwarts, he had been so preoccupied with defeating Voldemort that he had never once stopped to ask himself who had never once abandoned him despite all the times she had been told to do so. He had never stopped to think what that made her mean to him and how it made her different from everybody else. Cho had been an adolescent fantasy, whilst Ginny had been the opportunity to pretend he was normal. Being with someone who was removed from it all for those brief months had been the calm before the storm that he needed to continue. All those weeks in the tent and he had never considered Hermione as anything more than a friend, partly because of Ron, and partly because he had never expected to live out the year and so had unconsciously suppressed anything that might require a future. Now he had one and Hermione wasn't in it.

“Harry.” He suddenly became aware that Ron was talking to him, waving his hand in front of his unresponsive face.

“Hmm, yeah, what?”

“You look like you've seen a ghost mate, what's up?”

Remembering Ron's misgivings about Harry and Hermione's relationship earlier in the year, he desperately cast around for a reasonable excuse. “I was just thinking… how much like Remus Teddy is.” Suddenly a thought occurred to him that momentarily distracted him from his own troubles. “Hey do you think he inherited the whole Werewolf thing?”

“He hasn't,” Andromeda appeared behind them, “his mother's metamorphmagus gene cancels that out apparently. He would either have one or the other and thankfully he took after Dora.” She smiled at Harry. “He seems to have taken to you, he usually doesn't settle with strangers so easily. Thank you for keeping an eye on him, I'll take him back now.” Careful not to wake the now sleeping baby, she gently lifted from Harry's lap and tucked him into her shoulder. “You must come and visit us as often as you can Harry. It was nice to see you both.” And with a last smile at them she carried Teddy off into the crowd.

After Ron had eaten his fill, the two boys left the tent - cautiously checking for any sign of Rita Skeeter - and moved away from the crowds to wander round the lakeside. Ron began to reminisce about days gone by at Hogwarts, occasionally making a comment involving Luna, but Harry was only half listening. He was still mentally kicking himself over how he'd handled things with Hermione. Now that he thought about he should have recognized his feelings much earlier, how he always understood her more than Ron ever had - to the point where neither of them needed to say anything just communicate with a look. The way he had felt so dreadfully afraid when he thought that she had died in the Department of Mysteries, the look they had shared at Bill and Fleur's wedding. The alteration in their relationship over the last few months and the way she had made him feel when she held his hand. No matter what he had chosen to do, Hermione had always been by his side whether she thought he was right or not, even when Ron had abandoned him. Hermione was always the one who helped him, encouraged and cajoled him into doing the right thing at the right time. Without her he would never have managed to stay alive long enough to defeat Voldemort.

But she didn't love him and she never had. She had chosen Ron and now she had chosen this Joey bloke whoever he was. Harry would always be the other best friend, the one that needed looking after, the one she only wrote to occasionally now. Perhaps if he had realised earlier… but he couldn't force her to -

“Erm Harry?” Ron's slightly strained voice cut through his self-pitying meanderings. “Don't look around now but…”

Harry turned to see what Ron was talking about and groaned involuntarily. A small red headed figure was striding across the lawn towards them, a familiar determined look on her face. Harry licked his lips nervously. “Ginny.”

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“I'll leave you to it mate.” Ron clapped him on the back and then diplomatically slunk back towards the people by the tent. Of all the moments Ron could choose to learn about tact, he picks the worst Harry thought furiously as Ginny approached him. The closer she got the more his brain seemed to jam. What should he say to her? What do you say to someone you've dumped but who also happens to be your best friend's sister? What could he say that he hadn't already?

It seemed, however, that Ginny wasn't even going to let him speak. “Harry, where have you been? We were starting to get worried about you.” She grabbed his arm, “come on, I want you to meet some of my friends.”

Still trying to think of the right way to approach this, Harry patiently detached his arm. “Ginny -”

“Or would you rather it was just us for a while?” She wound her arms around his neck and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Suddenly exasperated at her, Harry pushed her away and growled, “for goodness sake Ginny, there is no us anymore. When are you going to see that?”

Her face dropped. “But you don't really mean that, “ she whined. “You only said that because I was leaving and everyone was still upset about everything. You only thought you were doing what was right, just like you always do. But we belong together Harry, you know we do. Everyone expects it. You're the hero that gets the girl. My hero.” She tried to reach for his face but he caught her wrist and held it.

“No Ginny, we don't belong together. And I'm not a hero, I'm not anybody's hero. I'm just me; just Harry. And I just want you to leave me alone. We're finished and the sooner you realise that the better it'll be for everyone.”

“But - but you love me!” Huge tears were starting to gather in her eyes.

“Ginny,” he sighed, “I thought I did, maybe I did once, but everything's changed now. We've all been through so much it would be impossible to go back.”

Ginny stepped back from him as though she'd been slapped. Her wide eyes searched his she wrenched her arm out of his grip and without warning a scarlet handprint was blooming on his cheek as the resounding slap echoed across the empty lake.

“Damn you Harry Potter, you can't do this to me!” she screamed at him. Suddenly she thought of something and her eyes narrowed dangerously all trace of tears gone. “There's someone else isn't there? You're seeing someone else.”

“No.” It wasn't exactly a lie.

“Liar!” she screeched. Bursting into tears again she fled across the lawn, pushing people out of her way as she ran. It was only then that he realised that everyone was staring at them. Well mostly at him. Looking around at all the shocked faces he suddenly spotted Rita Skeeter looking highly smug, her Quick Quotes Quill frantically scribbling. Her malicious grin widened as she saw his horrified expression.

“Oh God,” he muttered, turning away. Trying not to look as though he was running, Harry walked quickly towards the nearest tree and sat underneath - using the trunk to shield himself from his unwanted audience.

Tired, he ran his fingers through his hair and sank back against the tree with his eyes shut. Why did life have to be so complicated - they'd won the war, beaten the bad guys, everything should fall into place now. Shouldn't it? Instead Hermione was in Australia, probably with some bronzed surfer, Ginny was behaving like a spoilt three year old and Harry was struggling to work out what he had ever seen in her. To top it all off, the Weasley's, especially Ron, were most likely all mad at him for making her cry.

Now Ginny suspected that he loved someone else, she'd probably make his life a misery until she found out who. But she couldn't, not ever, because then Hermione would be told - as strongly as Harry had once felt for her, he had always known that Ginny had a spiteful streak - and Hermione couldn't find out. He valued their friendship far too much to throw it away for unrequited feelings. He would just have to learn not to feel it.

Hearing someone collapse onto the grass next to him, Harry opened his eyes a crack, then winced involuntarily. It was Ron, looking distinctly pink. Before Harry could even open his mouth to speak, he began.

“Look Harry, I know she's my sister and on a couple of occasions I may have threatened to kill you if you hurt her, but I also know how annoying she can be.” He took a deep breath, still avoiding looking directly at Harry. “Which is why I don't blame you for breaking up with her - or what just happened. Although, you certainly know how to pick your moments. And,” he hesitated, “and if you really want my honest opinion then I think that deep down I knew it would never work out between the two of you anyway.” He finally shot Harry a nervous glance.

“You did?” Harry was stunned, he'd always been given the impression that the only person Ron would tolerate his sister dating was Harry.

“Yeah, well you know… I wanted it to work out for you, I really did, but I suppose… Well, Ginny's always been the centre of attention, being the youngest and a girl and everything, and she loves it. If she was with you she'd never have that because everyone would be paying more attention to you than to her. I know,” he rushed on, “I know you don't want that, but it's the way it is and I don't think Ginny would have been able to cope with it long term.”

“Ron, I -”

“I know this is a bit unlike me, saying all this stuff, but I guess it took me long enough to admit it to myself, never mind to you. Ginny would probably kill me if she caught me saying this. I'm sorry I walked away and left you to it, but I thought it would be for the best. She probably needed to hear it anyway, and I wouldn't worry about her crying, she always was a bit of a drama queen. She really whacked you one -”

“Ron! Are you going to let me get a word in edgeways?”

“Oh.” Ron gave an embarrassed chuckle as his ears turned redder, “Sorry Harry, I'm still in speech mode.”

“It's ok. Really, I'm glad you said what you did. It makes me feel slightly better; I thought you wouldn't speak to me at all, and now I can't get you to stop!” The two of them laughed, before Harry quickly sobered again. “Do you think she'll be ok though? I mean, I haven't ruined her life have I?”

“Nah. Ginny'll bounce back, she always does. Besides from what Luna was telling me, she hasn't had a shortage of male admirers, despite the fact that she's been telling everyone the two of you are practically engaged.”

“She has?”

“Yeah, but I wouldn't worry about it. Like I said - drama queen.”

Harry sat for a moment, mulling over what Ron had said. If he was right then he shouldn't overly concern himself with Ginny. In time he hoped that they might be able to be friends again, or at least civil for the Weasley's sake. At least Ron understood why he couldn't continue going out with Ginny; at least it hadn't spoilt their friendship.

Picking up on the last thing Ron had said, he looked sideways at him. “So. I take it you've been speaking to Luna a lot then?”

Ron's cheeks flamed scarlet. “Erm… yeah… a fair bit I suppose. I mean we're friends it's normal to talk to your friends right?”

For a moment Ron was silent and Harry turned back to look out over the lake, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a while, before finally he could stand the silence no longer and suddenly burst out, “Harry, do you think she likes me?”

Harry grinned evilly, “Yeah of course she does, I mean, like you said, you're friends.”

“Well - no, I mean likes me likes me?”

“Oh you mean as in likes likes, as in really likes?” He pretended to think about it for a second as Ron stared at him anxiously. “Well, yeah, I think she might actually.”

Beside him Ron visibly relaxed and his face brightened. “Oh. Good.”

The two of them sat there for a while longer, idly chatting about irrelevant things, just enjoying sitting in the sunshine, being back at Hogwarts, and having a laugh. It was like old times. In fact Harry couldn't count how many times he, Ron and Hermione had sat under this very tree and done the same thing.

AS though he read his mind, Ron spoke. “It was a shame Hermione couldn't make it to the ceremony. She should have been here.”

“Yeah, but I mean she needs to stay with her parents until the after effects of the charm wear off. If they suddenly forget who they are, and she's not there to fix it then she might lose them all over again.”

“I suppose, and Dad said the Ministry would have had a problem setting up a Floo from Australia anyway. Something to do with distance and magical disturbances. Besides I don't think her Mum's feeling too great at the moment and Hermione wanted to stay with her.”

“Either that or she can't tear herself away from Joey.” Harry hadn't meant to say it, hadn't meant to sound so bitter, but it had sort of slipped out. Ron, however, didn't say anything, he just looked at him thoughtfully then changed the subject.

“I was thinking of moving out, of home that is. Getting a place of my own, away from Mum, what do you think? Want to get a place together?”

It was the third time that day that Ron had surprised him, he must be growing up at last. “To be honest I hadn't really thought about it, I mean I know that I couldn't stay at the Burrow forever, it's not my home. I suppose we could get a place if you want, although I don't know where we could…” Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “Hey what about Grimmauld Place?”

“What about it?”

Well I own it, and now Bellatrix is dead she can't claim it, so if you wanted, not that it's any good, even if it was just until you find somewhere else - I mean it's not great obviously -”

“Harry, what are you on about?”

“Grimmauld Place, we could do the place up, move in there.”

“Move in? I thought that you hated the place? That was why I never suggested it in the first place.”

Harry took a deep breath, thinking the idea over. “Well I do - I did. I don't know. It just seems daft not to do something with the place if it's just sitting there, and it means we wouldn't need to buy somewhere. I mean it's not as bad as it used to be; Kreacher's cleaned the place up loads so we could just redecorate it. What do you say?”

Ron considered it for a moment, pulling up tufts of grass as he did. Finally he looked up at Harry and grinned. “Yeah, why not? Mum'll hate it.”

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Sorry I haven't updated in ages, firstly I've just started university and so life's been a bit hectic at the moment. Then my computer crashed and has taken ages to rebuild so I haven't been able to upload any of my stuff. I've done loads of writing in the meantime though so I hope to be able to update soon, I'll be typing through the night to get it to you! Can I just say thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed my work, it means a lot and has really helped me gain confidence in my writing. You should all feel really privileged [lol] as you're the only people I show my work to.

Promise to update soon, hermy_madness xxx

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“No way!” Molly was incandescent with rage. “Not in a million years am I allowing the two of you to move into that house. What's wrong with just staying here? Don't you want to be with your family anymore?”

Harry winced, he had wondered how long it would take her to resort to emotional blackmail. The three of them stood in the kitchen, Mrs Weasley facing down her son and Harry across the kitchen table. She stood with her hands firmly on her hips and she was so angry that her eyes had been reduced to tiny slits in her face. At one point, when Harry had been trying to avoid eye contact with her, he had spotted Mr Weasley and George loitering near the kitchen door, trying not to look as though they were eavesdropping.

Tired of being talked at by his mother again, Ron attempted to use a much tried and tested approach to convince her. “Mum, we're both eighteen now, we're adults, we can do what we want. Besides you can't tell Harry what to do anyway, you're not his mother.” He seemed to wilt slightly under the look she threw at him as Harry was suddenly and forcibly reminded of Ginny when she was angry. “And anyway,” Ron continued valiantly, “it's Harry's house, he can do what he wants with it. And it's not like we haven't lived on our own before. We have to move out sometime.”

“Not into that hole you don't! How are the two of you going to look after yourselves with only that smelly little house-elf for company?”

He wasn't sure if it was the slight on his reformed house-elf or the thought of what Hermione would have said had she been here, but that finally made Harry speak up. “Mrs Weasley, Kreacher's changed a lot since you last met him. If it hadn't been for him we never would have defeated Voldemort. Now, I really appreciate everything that you've done for me, but I think it's time I maybe branched out on my own. Kreacher's really improved the house, you'd hardly recognise it. I know it's hard for you but you have to let us go sometime, I'll be moving out and Ron is welcome to stay if he wants to.”

Mrs Weasley looked at him for a long moment before finally she sighed. “Very well Harry, I can't stop you,” she walked around the table and hugged him. “But promise that you'll come back and visit us lots.”

Harry grinned at Ron over her shoulder as his friend gave him the thumbs up.

Too soon.

“But if you think for one moment that I'll let you go and live on your own, Ronald Weasley, then you're sadly mistaken.”

“But Mum…”

“Don't you But Mum me sir!” she turned on him. “And I will not hear another word about it. Get upstairs now and let me make supper.”

Ron's ears and neck had turned an angry pink as he stomped up the stairs ahead of Harry, chuntering under his breath as he went.

As he followed Ron up the stairs, Harry glanced back and heard Mr Weasley enter the kitchen with a placatory, “now Molly dear.” George was nowhere to be seen, but a long piece of flesh coloured string trailing around the corner of the kitchen door betrayed his presence. Once safely away from his mother, Ron's mutterings became much more vehement. He threw himself onto his bed with much creaking of springs and launched into a tirade about the unfairness of being a teenager, his mother and life in general. Harry sat making sympathetic noises whilst actually trying to decide whether or not he should write to Hermione and what he would say to her if he did.

By the time Ron had lapsed into a sullen silence, Harry had decided he probably should write, it had after all been a while since his last letter. Fishing amongst the debris that he had collected under his bed, he eventually found a quill and a usable piece of parchment. Laying the parchment across his knees he scratched out her name at the top - at which point he got completely stuck and couldn't think of a single thing to say. Should he tell her about the ceremony? Tell her that they had planned to move out but that Mrs Weasley was vetoing the idea? Should he say he missed her? Would that make his feelings too obvious and scare her off?

What he really wanted to do was ask about Joey, how she had met him and what sort of person he was. But then he might as well write I love you in block capitals and send it to her. In the end he settled for telling her about his meeting with Teddy and how he couldn't wait to see him again. He wasn't sure why, perhaps it was because Remus had left him with the responsibility and he had been the last father figure Harry had, perhaps it was just Teddy's babyish charm, or perhaps it was something to do with the family he had never had, but he felt very close to his little godson.

As Harry was signing off his still very brief letter, there was a loud crack and George materialised in the middle of the room still holding an Extendable Ear.

“Well,” he sighed, flopping down onto Ron's bed, “you two certainly know how to cause a fuss.”

Ron switched his morose gaze from the ceiling to his brother as he raised his head from his folded arms. “It's not fair, we can more than look after ourselves, and it's not like we're moving to the end of the earth.” He looked accusingly at George as a thought struck him. “She never had this much of a pantomime when you moved out and you were younger than us at the time!”

“Yeah, but Ronniekins, we weren't daft enough to ask her for permission we just told her that we were going to do it.”

“I didn't ask -”

“No, I think I know why,” Harry set aside the parchment. “You're the last one to leave. Think about it, Charlie's in Romania, Bill's living with Fleur, Percy has his flat in London to go back to and George, you've got the shop. Since Ginny's away at school, she probably feels like you're her last child living at home. I suppose it's understandable that she might get a bit upset.”

“A bit upset?” George echoed with a smirk, “she's more than that, she was positively apoplectic for a while. You should have heard Dad trying to calm her down.”

“Yes well, some people have better things to do with their time than eavesdrop on other people's conversations,” Ron shot back.

“What, like moon over Loony Lovegood?”

It was all Harry could do to get his wand out of his pocket in time to cast shield between the two of them before Ron tried to launch himself at his laughing brother. “Stop it you two!”

Stiffly Ron sat back, glaring at the two of them whilst George mouthed “touchy subject” at Harry.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment before George began batting impatiently at the air next to his scar. Catching Harry's eye he gave a lopsided grin, “itchy ear.”

Harry smiled in sympathy and was sure he saw the corner of Ron's mouth twitch upwards. Suddenly, George got up off the bed and looked from one to the other slyly. “ Well if you two gloomy girls don't want to hear my good news then I'll be off.”

Ron rolled his eyes and looked at his brother with an expression of rapt fascination. “Go on then; astonish us.”

“No it's fine, you don't care!” George did his best to look tragic, “if you don't want to know that Dad managed to convince Mum to let the two of you move out then I'll be off.” And with a sniff he dissapparated, leaving Harry to sit and laugh as Ron jumped up and did a short celebratory dance on his bed.

Harry's first thought when he woke up the next morning was that Mrs Weasley must have changed her mind. It certainly seemed the only reasonable explanation as to why Ron came storming into the room yelling, “I can't believe her, I just can't - how could she do something like this!”

“Whazzup?” Harry sat up bleary eyed and then immediately wished he hadn't as Ron chucked a newspaper at his head by way of answer.

“Read that.”

Grabbing his glasses he unfolded the mornings edition of the Prophet and his stomach dropped as he took in the large picture of him standing shamefaced in the grounds of Hogwarts accompanied by the bold title - Love Rat Potter in Public Heartbreak (full story on pages 2&3). Quickly Harry flipped the page and began reading.

For some of my more attentive readers, it will come as no surprise that Harry Potter - hero of the wizarding world - has once more publicly humiliated himself. Yesterday at the memorial ceremony held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I was fortunate enough to witness the consequences of fame going to a person's head.

Being an exalted hero has no doubt given Potter the impression that he is not bound by the same social conventions as the rest of us, as you will also know he loses no opportunity to be in the limelight. Whatever the reason it is no excuse for the heartbreak and misery he visited upon his on-off girlfriend, Ginerva Weasley, as he publicly humiliated her yesterday.

Shortly after the main unveiling, Potter took the opportunity to loudly announce to Miss Weasley - and anyone listening - that he didn't want to be in a relationship with her anymore as it was, and I quote, “too much bother.” To add insult to injury he then went on to inform her that he was already seeing someone else, although he mentioned no names. Miss Weasley, a quiet, pretty girl, naturally fled the scene in tears as Potter basked in the attention he had created.

As the caring and sympathetic soul that I am, this dedicated journalist immediately sought out Miss Weasley to comfort her. However, angry at the insensitive injustice wreaked upon her, she wanted to tell me, and therefore my devoted readers, about the real Harry Potter: “He loves getting all the attention, he used to get so jealous if anyone paid more attention to me than to him. He especially loved when he got attention from all the girls, he thought I didn't know that he was cheating on me but I did. I've known for months,” she stormed. “I didn't need to stay with him, but I thought if he could see how much I loved him then he would change. But no, he loves being famous too much. He's told me loads of times that I'm not glamorous enough to be going out with a celebrity, although Hermione Granger obviously is.” - Harry gripped the paper so hard he thought that he was going to rip it in half. - At this point Miss Weasley became to emotional to continue, but as most of my readers will know she was referring to the oft speculated romance between Potter and his muggle-born friend. (For more information about this turn to pages 7&8.) Little is known about what Miss Granger's other half Mr Ronald Weasley, incidentally Ginerva's brother, has to say about all of this.

I believe that it is my duty as a reporter and as a woman to inform my fellow witches about the real Harry Potter, to show them the scum behind the scar, and to ensure that no one else has their heart broken by the Boy-Who-Lived. (See tomorrow's issue for more on Potter's romances.)

“I can't believe that Ginny would do this!” Ron swore and kicked Harry's bed.

“She has always been pretty good at getting revenge on people who've upset her.” Harry pointed out as he stared blankly at the paper. What if Hermione read this? Did they even get the Daily Prophet in Australia?

“How can you be so calm about this?” Ron sat down rubbing his foot in pain. “Ginny's obviously gone to Rita Skeeter and fed her a whole load of lies about you. Or did you believe all that rubbish about seeking her out to comfort her? You should at least be angry about that, even if you ignore the rest of the trash that she wrote.”

“What's the point? It won't change anything, half the country's probably seen this already. And we don't even know if Ginny did tell her all that stuff, you know what Rita's like.”

Ron still wasn't convinced. “Well I'm going to write and tell her what I think of her anyway. Just wait till Mum sees this, she'll have a fit!”

Sighing Harry got up and headed to the bathroom. He was grateful to Ron for standing up for him, and he knew he should be angry. But honestly the papers had written so much rubbish about him over the years that he was past caring. Sure he was mildly annoyed at Ginny, deep down he knew she had said those things, or some of them anyway, but really the only thing that he was concerned about was whether or not Hermione saw it. If she did then… Well, he didn't know what would happen. Maybe he should just stay away from girls altogether.

It didn't take Harry very long to pack, he didn't have that many belongings to start with, but it was another week before Mrs Weasley felt ready to let them leave the house. Rather surprisingly she had taken Harry's side over the Rita Skeeter article, muttering darkly about what she would do when she got her hands on her daughter. It didn't stop her reading the Prophet though, which continued to print far fetched stories about his love life all week, and it wasn't long before he started getting people writing to him about it. Occasionally one would be from someone offering sympathy for the bad press he was getting, but on the whole they were usually pretty derogatory. He was just tossing one such batch into the fire unopened when he recognised the neat handwriting on one of the envelopes. Quickly he tore it open and began to read Hermione's reply.

It was very short and to the point. She was well, her parents were well, Australia was wonderful, she couldn't wait to meet Teddy and she missed them all. No reference to the mysterious Joey at all and other than his name at the top of the page no mention of Harry either. He wasn't sure what he felt about this, this possibly meant that she hadn't heard about the articles, which was good, but it was disappointing not even to warrant a how are you? Although, curiously, it looked as though she had neatly copied out the entire letter; he had no idea what that meant.

“There you are Harry dear, that should be enough food to last you a while. I won't give it to Ron because he'll have it all eaten by the end of the day… Now are you sure you've got everything that you need, you haven't forgotten something?”

Stuffing the letter into his coat pocket, Harry turned. “Yes Mrs Weasley, I'm positive.”

Looking sceptical, she tapped the enormous hamper on the kitchen table with her wand and shrunk it so that it would fit into his rucksack.

Five minutes later George, Percy and their parents were all gathered around the fireplace to say goodbye to the two boys.

“We're only going to be a floo away,” Ron complained as his mother hugged the life out of him, “it's not like you can't see us anytime.”

“Yes, but it's her ickle Ronnie that's moving out, it's traditional for her to blub all over you.” George winked at Harry as he dodged his mother's swipe. After several more emotional minutes for Mrs Weasley, during which they were both hugged a number of times, she finally allowed them to go.

Harry stepped into the fireplace and had one last glimpse of the Burrow before he was sent violently spinning through the Floo Network, eventually falling awkwardly onto his bag as it spat him out at the other end. He got up and moved quickly out of the way as Ron followed suit. As he pulled him to his feet, Harry glanced around the newly cleaned living room, such a change from the Grimmauld Place that he knew. “Well this is it, we're home.”

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Going back to Grimmauld Place again was a really weird experience, it was the house that Harry knew, but the change in it was so radical that at times he forgot where he was. Kreacher had completely cleaned the place out; the troll-foot coat stand in the hall was gone, so too were the shrunken elf heads on the stairs. In fact everything about the house that had even hinted at the dark arts was conspicuously absent. There wasn't a hint of dirt or grime anywhere and the curtains were thrown wide to let the daylight brighten up the dark rooms. To his immense relief Kreacher had even, somehow, managed to remove Sirius' mother's portrait and stash it in the attic, so they no longer had to put up with her demented wailing every time they walked along the hall.

After several days Harry and Ron decided that although everything was clean beyond all recognition the house would still benefit from a makeover, and half of the furniture was so old that it was falling to bits no matter what Kreacher did. The theory was to redecorate the entire house from top to bottom, however it was such a warren of locked doors and rooms with no obvious purpose that they had no idea where to start. To make the task more manageable they eventually chose to concentrate on the rooms they used the most and leave the rest for later.

Returning from a trip to a muggle London paint shop - an experience Ron had found fascinating - Harry found a letter addressed to him lying on the doorstep.

Harry

I was wondering if you could do me a favour. After everything that's happened this past year my health has suffered a bit and the Healers are advising me to go away for a bit to recuperate. Since you got on so well with him the other week, and you are his Godfather after all, I was wondering if you could look after Teddy for me for a few days? I hear from Molly that you and Ron have moved out of the Burrow, but I am sure she would be willing to help you out with any problems questions that you might have, and you'll have Ron there to help you. I was hoping to go away in a few days so can you please let me know as soon as possible if you can't manage. I'll take all the things he needs round to your house so you won't need to buy anything.

Sorry for the short notice

Andromeda Tonks

Harry just stared at the letter for a few moments, oblivious to Ron re-enlarging the paint pots which had been shrunk for the walk home. She wanted him to look after a baby! He didn't know anything about babies, he never been around one in his life. But then if she was going away in a few days then he could hardly say no. Why did he always get himself into these situations, couldn't she find someone with more experience in childcare? Then again he had agreed to being Teddy's godfather and all the responsibilities that went along with it. He couldn't really let Remus down, and he of all people knew what it was like to grow up without any sort of father figure.

“Wow Harry, come and look at this!” Ron had managed to open one of the paint pots and was levitating a large glob of coffee coloured paint above his head. “It's really weird stuff it's like -” Suddenly the spell ended and the paint cascaded down, covering Ron's head and shoulders as he spluttered in shock.

Harry couldn't help it, he just burst out laughing. What was he thinking that he wouldn't be able to look after a child? He already did.

Three days later Harry stood surveying his and Ron's handiwork with pride. Since they were expecting Teddy later that day they had decided to start with his room first so that they would have somewhere to put him away from all the work going on. The walls were painted an off white colour with overlapping squares of varying shades of cream and brown dotted around. They had left the floor boards exposed, but had varnished them and then bought a large woollen rug to set in the middle of the floor. All in all it looked quite good. Or he thought so anyway.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, breaking off his train of self-congratulation. By the time he got to the staircase Ron was letting Mrs Tonks in the door and taking a large holdall from her. She was staring around with an odd expression on her face, and it wasn't until that moment that Harry realised that she must have been to this house so many times as a child, probably, like Sirius, she had hoped never to set foot in it again. Spotting Harry though, she smiled. “Ah here he is, I'm really sorry Harry, but I can't stay. My train leaves at eleven and I want to get there in plenty of time. Sorry to just dump Teddy on you and run.”

“That's fine Mrs Tonks, I don't mind, honestly.” He reached out to ruffle Teddy's electric blue curls. “How is the little man today then?”

“Oh he's fine,” Teddy's grandmother smiled and gave him a quick kiss as she handed him to Harry. “He was a bit grizzly yesterday, but he seems to be fine now.” Glancing down at her watch she smiled apologetically. “I'm sorry but I really do have to go now. Take care of him, there's a list of everything you need to do in the bag so you should be fine. Bye now!”

And with that she was gone, leaving a stunned Harry and Ron standing in the hall. Eventually Harry spoke, “well… I suppose we better see what this list says and get you settled in then.”

Several minutes later the three of them were upstairs in Teddy's room, with Harry reading Andromeda's instructions - or trying to as Teddy seemed to want to eat them - and Ron emptying the bag and setting up the cot which had been shrunk to fit inside.

“Ron are there some labelled jars in the bag, it's supposed to be his baby food? Ron? Ron! Stop mucking about with the cot, it's fine where it is.”

Grumbling, his friend stopped trying to levitate it into the corner of the room and searched through the contents of the bag. “Yeah there's some here. Eugh! What is this stuff? It looks like s- Ugh Harry? The baby's eating the paper.”

Looking down Harry saw that Teddy had finally managed to get a corner of the parchment into his mouth and was sucking on it greedily. Gingerly he tried to open his mouth and extract it, a process which ended with a giggling baby and his finger covered in drool. “Yuck, Teddy you are really gross, d'you know that?”

The infant merely chuckled again, displaying a tiny pearly white tooth, and turned his eyes orange in reply.

Teddy quickly settled in to life at Grimmauld Place, and after two days it felt like he had been there forever. Granted the two of them made lots of mistakes at first, but it had its good points and Teddy was unfailingly sweet, even for a baby. Harry didn't think he'd ever forget the look on Ron's face when Harry asked him to hold Teddy for a second whereupon the infant promptly vomited all over his friends shoulder. They took it in turns to look after him, with one playing with him in his room and the other getting on with the decorating - which had now progressed to the living room. And whilst he got on really well with both of them, it was obvious that Teddy was happiest when he was with Harry. For some reason the kid had really taken to him, although perhaps it was just that he liked trying to pull his glasses off whenever he thought that Harry wasn't paying enough attention to him. Harry had always heard that little babies were really light sleepers, but so far his godson seemed to sleep right the way through the night - or at least until six o'clock - a fact which he was profoundly grateful for. It still amazed him that anyone that small could move so fast. The minute Teddy was set down anywhere he would promptly crawl off in the other direction, leaving Harry or Ron to run after him before he hurt himself.

On the fourth day after Teddy's arrival, Harry was walking down the stairs having just gotten him to sleep when he heard a persistent banging coming from the living room. What was Ron doing? Cautiously sticking his head round the door he was greeted with the sight of Ron obviously attempting to levitate the paintbrush up the wall, but only succeeding in bouncing it around the room.

“I was fed up of trying to do this the muggle way, it takes too long.” His friend complained. “I've seen Dad do some sort of charm that sets the brush off on its own and then you can just leave it to do all the work, but I - can't - seem - to - do it.” He struggled to maintain control of the brush as it went whizzing across to the other side of the room, spraying paint in its wake.

Harry reached up to wipe the spots of green paint from his face as he went over to help his friend. “Have you never painted a wall before?” he asked curiously. It still amazed him how many things that he took for granted that Ron had never experienced. Still, what could it hurt to try and do it by magic?

Picking up another brush and dipping it in the tin of paint he concentrated on where he wanted it to go then swished and flicked as hard as he could. The brush wobbled unsteadily in the air for a second and then began to move towards the nearest wall. Harry grinned at his success as it started turning the wall pale green.

“Show off.” Ron muttered, but began to laugh when Harry lowered his wand arm and the brush clattered to the floor.

“Hey!” Harry summoned the brush and used it to flick paint at the redhead. “Not so funny now is it?”

Of course the only thing that Ron could do was retaliate, leading to a rather large and fairly messy paint fight. Using the sheet-covered sofa as a defence, Harry ducked down waited till he heard Ron move out from behind the similarly shrouded bookcase. For once though Ron took him by surprise, moving noiselessly across the floor he leaned over the sofa and dealt Harry a none too gentle blow to the side of the head with the paintbrush. It was the most fun Harry had had in ages, and for once he felt like the teenager he really was. He was just in the process of lobbing the brush at his friend when an exasperated voice behind him spoke.

“Oh for goodness sake! I leave you two alone for a while and you're acting like five year olds. The paint's meant to go on the walls you know.”

Harry froze as his mind registered two things simultaneously: he knew that voice, and it sure as hell wasn't Teddy. Turning, he looked at the figure standing in the doorway. Wrapped in a thick winter coat with decidedly pink cheeks and a large suitcase at her feet was -

“Hi Hermione,” he said weakly.

A/N: Yay she's back! Sorry it took so long I was mentally chastising myself every time I finished a chapter and she was still in Australia. Sorry. As I was writing this chapter I suddenly realised how much of his time Harry spends reading/writing letters - or newspaper articles - it seems to be about the only thing he ever does. So I would also like to apologise to those who are fed up of Harry constantly reading, I promise he won't in the next chapter.

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“Mione!” Ron rushed over to give her a hug, though she continued to watch Harry over his shoulder. “You should have told us you were coming back, we'd have had a party or something. Do you want something to eat? Come on I'll take you down to the kitchen and you can get your coat off. Just leave your bag there, we'll move it later.”

Hermione glanced back at Harry as she followed him out of the living room and frowned when she saw he wasn't going with them. He just stood there for a moment, watching her. “Harry?”

“You two go on,” he replied woodenly, “I'll just clean up this mess first.”

Hermione frowned again, but - for once - did as she was told. Once she was gone Harry sent a random scourgify charm into all four corners of the room, but he wasn't really paying that much attention to what he was doing.

He had waited so long for Hermione to come back, but now that she had he didn't know what to do. He had missed her incredibly, although that didn't make up for the fact that she had hardly written - he conveniently ignored the fact that he had hardly been a consistent letter writer over the years. And where did Joey stand in all this? Had she even come back for good?

Taking a deep breath he walked out of the room and along the hall towards the kitchen. Suddenly he caught sight of himself in the large mirror they had replaced Mrs Black with; flecks of paint spattered one side of his face and a large gob of it clung to his hair - he looked like such a catch. Using his wand he managed to remove most of the green from his hair then - what was he thinking? This was Hermione, she had seen him half drowned, singed beyond recognition and in his pyjamas when he'd just woken up. Was she really going to care what he looked like? Still it didn't stop him trying to scrub his face with his sleeve as he entered the kitchen.

Ron had enlisted Kreacher's help in getting something for Hermione to eat, Harry glanced across at her as she sat at the table to see what she thought of this and… “Wow.” He managed to stutter. She'd… her - well she didn't look bookish anymore that was for sure. Her hair had been cut short, about an inch below her ears, accentuating her jaw line, and having been relieved of all that extra weight it had developed into loose curls rather than just a bushy mass. He hadn't noticed it earlier because the collar of her coat had concealed the end of her hair. Add that to the fact that she had gained a golden tan from her time down-under and she was, well…

Harry cleared his throat and looked away with an effort. Erm… well… wow! It was just as well that Ron started asking her about Australia because Harry's thought process was incoherent enough, never mind trying to verbalise something. At first he wasn't paying that much attention to what Ron was saying, he kept trying to sneak a covert glance at Hermione without looking as though he was staring. However when his friend asked if she was back to stay, Harry focused all of his attention on her answer.

“Yes, I should think so. Mum and Dad sold their surgery in Perth, and they've bought a new house nearer to London so that they can see me more often. I thought I'd look into a Healership training scheme at St Mungo's or something. I'm not sure yet.”

She was staying! His heart performed an odd skipping motion in his ribcage before it settled with a thud as he realised something. “What about Joey?”

Hermione looked across at him as a peculiar expression flitted across her face, but it was gone so quickly that he wasn't sure if he'd imagined it. “Joey?” she glanced briefly across at Ron, “staying in Perth. Why?”

“No reason.” He quickly changed the subject and for the next few moments they spoke about fairly innocuous things such as the redecorating and Hermione's parents.

“What did they say when you gave them their memories back?” Ron asked curiously.

Hermione laughed, but Harry could see she was blushing slightly. “Well at first they couldn't remember anything that had happened for the last year, and they were a bit angry when I explained - I hadn't told them before hand you see. But after a while they understood why I did it, and then bits and pieces of the last year started coming back to them. On the whole they took it quite well, I was surprised how well they coped actually, especially Dad. He usually tends to get quite worked up about things. But I'll tell you about hat later, how is everyone? Has George gone back to his shop yet?”

“Yeah, although he said it feels really weird without Fred being there. I think he's getting used to it though. Perce got a new job; he's working for the company that published all Lockhart's books.” Ron grinned wickedly at her. She was saved from further comment however because Teddy chose just that moment to alert everyone to the fact that he had woken up.

Sighing, Harry got up from the table, but Ron beat him to it. “It's fine Harry, I'll go.”

Smiling at his friend, he nodded and went over to the pantry to get himself something to eat. As he was rummaging around, trying to find some of the pastries Mrs Weasley had made for them, he heard Hermione come up behind him and stand in the doorway. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable at being so close to her, he pretended not to notice and continued foraging. Finally, after what seemed like an age, she spoke.

“Harry, can we talk?”

Straightening up he composed his features into a carefully bland expression and turned around. “What about?” he asked innocently.

Walking back across to her chair she retrieved a newspaper from the pocket of her coat and dropped it onto the table. “That.”

When no further explanation was forthcoming, he followed her across the room and picked it up with a sinking feeling. It was a copy of last week's Wizards in Oz containing a special article written by none other than Rita Skeeter. Harry resisted the urge to chuck the paper into the fire and have done with it.

“Well is it true?” She demanded.

Startled he looked up at her. “Mione, I have no idea what it says, but Rita Skeeter wrote it. Surely that should tell you something?”

She flushed scarlet but said nothing. Thoroughly confused, Harry unfolded the paper and scanned the article in question. It ran along a similar vein to the others: how Harry was a philandering, no good, waste of space, it quoted Ginny a number of times and -

“You mean the bit where it says that I admitted to loving you?” He made an effort not to blush as he said it.

“Yes. Is that true?”

“NO!” His response was so abrupt that he practically shouted it at her. “No,” he repeated.

A funny, closed expression crossed he face and she glanced away from him before saying, “good, because I wouldn't want anything to be… you know - awkward.”

The silence in the room was so complete that Harry felt it was a wonder that she couldn't hear his heart breaking. So that was it then, she had as good as admitted that she didn't return the sentiment.

Suddenly the door crashed open and Ron walked in, took one look at his friends' miserable faces and walked back out again.

“Hermione,” Harry began. “All this stuff in the papers recently is just Ginny getting back at me for dumping her. You know she was always jealous of us being friends.”

“Yes,” she replied, “friends.”

The two of them stood staring at the table for a while before finally Harry sat down. Hermione glanced up at him and smiled slightly before taking the seat opposite him. After a moment Harry realised that he was staring at her and looked away. He just couldn't get over how different she looked with her hair short. Just as the silence was becoming awkward he asked, “what made you think it was true anyway? You never usually believe Rita's rubbish.”

“Well I didn't at first, but from things I'd said Joey thought that it might be true, so - so I came back to check.”

“Get jealous did he?” Harry snapped.

“Harry what are you -” she looked puzzled but he cut her off, his temper getting the better of him.

“Well obviously it must be true if the wonderful Joey said it. Don't try to deny anything, Ron told me you were going out with him even if you didn't see fit to. I thought we were friends Mione? But no you go waltzing off to Australia - I know I told you to go,” he added as she looked about to protest, “you never wrote to me and now you trust the word of some guy you've only just met more than mine.” Every hurt, resentful thought he'd had in the last few months spilled out. Even as he said them he regretted it, but he refused to take it back or apologise; he'd meant every word he said.

Hermione, on the other hand, didn't react at all in the way he expected. Eyes flashing dangerously she laid her palms on the table and stood very slowly. “Ron said that did he? Well we'll just see about that.” And with her cropped hair swinging behind her she marched out of the room leaving Harry thoroughly perplexed.

What had he said? Which part of what Ron had told him did she object to? Had he not been meant to tell him about Joey? If so, what did that mean? Why on earth would Hermione not want Harry to know that she was going out with someone - unless… But she couldn't could she? She'd have never gone out with someone else if she liked him like that, would she? He was so confused!

As he sat mulling over what had just happened and its possible significance he heard several doors slamming on the landing followed by two familiar raised voices. He groaned as he stood up, it was just like being back at school again, but they were going to wake Teddy up again if they weren't careful. After sitting drumming his fingers for what felt like ages but was probably only a few seconds he got up and moved to the kitchen door. Gently easing it open he slipped out into the hall to hear the argument better, but found that due to the vastness of the house he still couldn't make out what his friends were arguing about. Although he must be the only person in the street who couldn't - even if the house was magically shielded - they were really quite loud. Both of them seemed to be yelling at each other, but every so often Ron would go quiet and Hermione would continue to rant at him. What on earth had he said? Should he go up and try to make the peace? As far as he could see Ron hadn't done anything and really didn't deserve to get yelled at - at least not this time anyway.

He had just made his way towards the stairs when another door was nearly slammed off its hinges and someone came running back down the stairs. Before they reached the last flight he quickly dived back into the kitchen and sat down at the table again trying to look nonchalant. He listened as whoever it was paused outside the door before slowly entering.

It was Hermione, looking very flushed about the face and trying to control her breathing. Calmly she walked back to her seat opposite him and sat down, patting her shorn hair nervously. She bit her lip, fiddled nervously with the end of her sleeve and darted her eyes around the room.

Finally, when he couldn't take the silence any longer Harry opened his mouth to speak. But she beat him to it. “Oh for goodness sake this is ridiculous. Look Harry, Ron's an idiot, he got his wires crossed and blew the whole thing out of proportion and…” She leaned towards him slightly, looking directly into his eyes. “What I'm trying to say is Joey's not… we're not… Joey's a girl Harry. Ron just jumped to conclusions.”

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“Oh for goodness sake Harry, say something!” Hermione exclaimed after he had stared at her in unnerving silence for over a minute. Harry didn't know what to say; his mind had gone oddly blank. What do you say when you find out that you've been insanely jealous of nothing for weeks? It had been his own fault really, if he'd just had the courage to ask Hermione about him - her! God he was so confused.

“Well, whether Joey is a boy or girl, it still doesn't change the fact that you believe her over me.” As soon as he said it he could have kicked himself; why was he picking a fight with her? He was being ridiculous. “And you hardly ever wrote to me either, what was that all about? What made us change Mione?” He ignored the little voice in his head screaming at him to shut up.

For a moment he thought that Hermione might slap him. “I hardly ever wrote? I h-“She took a deep breath, “what about you? You were hardly using up the rainforest writing to me. Besides I thought -” She stopped and refused to look at him.

“You thought what?”

“Nothing.”

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I'm too tired for this, I'll go check on Teddy,” and with that he apparated away.

The next morning, after assurances that Harry would come and visit soon, Andromeda arrived to take Teddy home. This was inconvenient to say the least as it no longer meant that Harry had an excuse to avoid his friends. Harry and Ron hadn't spoken about their arguments with Hermione and Harry had hardly spoken two words to her since.

As he wondered aimlessly around the house he could hear the other two laughing down in the kitchen. He really wanted to kick something. He'd spent months wishing that Hermione would come home, and as soon as she did he picked an argument. How stupid was he?

Marching into one of the rooms at the end of the hall he slammed the door, grabbed a paint brush and started attacking the walls. It felt surreally like the time he dug Dobby's grave in the garden of Shell Cottage. He just had to take his anger and frustration out on something or he thought he'd explode.

Thinking of Dobby led him to contemplate the previous winter - almost a year ago now - when he and Hermione had been alone for weeks in the tent. If only… Snap out of it Harry, he thought, you'd have been an idiot to do something then, for one she'd been in love with Ron, and he'd - well there had been Ginny and he'd broken up with her so that he didn't have any romantic entanglements. They'd been hiding from Voldemort for God's sake, it was hardly the time.

“Harry?”

He swung round to face the door, spraying paint onto the sheets covering the furniture. It was Ron, his head stuck nervously around the doorframe, an anxious look on his face.

“Harry, there's owls downstairs for us mate. From the Ministry, I thought we could open them together.”

“Oh right, yeah sure; I'm coming.”

Ron's head disappeared again.

Harry mentally kicked himself, with all that had been going on lately he'd completely forgotten that the Auror programme selected candidates in October. All of a sudden he was plunged into a state of nervous anticipation. For the past four years - when he hadn't been thinking about defeating Voldemort - during those times when he had allowed himself to imagine a life beyond the war, he had dreamed of being an Auror. Now that he had reached the moment of truth he wasn't sure he wanted to see what the letter had to say.

Quickly, he deposited the brush in the tin and wiped the paint from his hands onto one of the sheets. He rushed along the corridor and down the three flights of stairs to the kitchen where he paused for a moment outside the door to control his breathing before he slowly walked into the room. Ron was standing at the table holding the letters in his hand as Hermione and Kreacher looked on nervously.

“Master Harry, Master Harry, hurry up; you need to open the letter. See what news is brought.”

Harry looked from Kreacher's excited face, to Hermione who smiled encouragingly at him, then turned to Ron who looked slightly sick as he held out the envelope.

“Maybe - maybe we should open them at the same time,” he said, “that way if one of us…” Ron couldn't finish his sentence.

Knowing that his friend wanted to get in as much as, if not more, than he did harry just nodded as he took the letter from him. Trying to appear outwardly calm, he pushed away the knot of trepidation that formed in the pit of his stomach as he slit the wax seal open. He had hardly read more than the first three words when he heard a strangled croak emerge from Ron and his eyes darted to his friend.

Ron was gazing in dumbfounded silence at the parchment as Hermione rushed over and took it gently from his hands. Scanning the letter she began to smile. “Well done R-” She stopped and looked expectantly at Harry, “sorry Harry I'll let you read yours first.”

Glancing back down at the page he had time to read the first line before some sort of explosion happened inside his brain. It was as though everything inside his head had gone haywire and it was a couple moments before he remembered to breathe properly.

“I -” he stumbled over the words, “I got in.” He looked up again just in time to see Ron and Hermione dart towards him before he was drawn into a rib crushing hug. For several seconds all he could hear was Hermione congratulating him in one ear and Ron repeating “me too Harry, me too!” in the other.

When they finally released him he spotted Kreacher standing in the same spot his large, pale eyes swimming with tears. “Would Master Harry like a nice dinner to celebrate? Kreacher will make his favourite treacle pudding.”

Harry grinned at the house-elf he had once detested, “yeah thanks Kreacher; that would be great.”

Harry had long since discovered that any attempt to help Kreacher in the preparation of his meals would only result in the old elf becoming offended. So the three of them sat down at the table as Ron, grinning from ear to ear, began babbling away about all the brilliant things he - and Harry of course - would do once they became Aurors.

“I've heard that as part of your training you get to go out in the field, how soon do you suppose you'd get to do that? Do you think we'll be trusted to do important stuff or will that just be once we graduate? How long is it till that happens, three years? Just imagine all the stuff we'll get to do between now and then. I want to get taught all the ways to conceal yourself that should be cool. We'll get taught loads of new spells that are way beyond…”

Harry glanced across at Hermione and raised an eyebrow at her, her tentative smile changed to a grin as they both thought the same thing. Surely they'd had enough dealings with the Dark Arts over the past few years to last them a lifetime?

“…and Dad, we'll have to tell them as well. Ginny will be so jealous I can't wait to see the look on her face when she finds out. It's quite good that we're living in London now anyway, we won't have to go far to get to the Auror office. I've never been in the part where they train us before, Dad always said he'd take me but he usually forgot or something had exploded and it was closed off…”

Hermione nodded and made interested noises at appropriate points in Ron's monologue but when she next looked across at Harry she rolled her eyes and had to suppress a giggle.

For a while it was as though Hermione had never gone to Australia and everything was back to the way it had been when they were at school - well he still loved her of course, but apart from that.

During Ron's excited ramblings Harry and Hermione seemed to come to an unspoken agreement that they would forget - if not forgive - their earlier argument. He still wanted to know why she hadn't written to him, but for now he was happy just to be back on speaking terms with her for what was probably the first time in months.

As Hermione finally managed to stem the flow of Ron's enthusiasm and divert his attention onto a more sedate line of conversation, Harry took the opportunity to read through the rest of his letter. After the initial section which informed him that he had been successful in his application, it went on to say that the programme would begin on the twentieth of October and that all he needed to do was to turn up at the Auror Office with nothing other than his wand.

Suddenly his musings were interrupted by Kreacher arriving in a haze of delicious food smells and laying out three plates of chicken and roast potatoes before them. Harry mumbled his thanks and began to eat when suddenly a thought occurred to him.

“Kreacher why don't you join us?” He was rewarded by seeing the elf tear up again as he rushed to fetch a plate. Looking up at the others he felt his stomach flip over as Hermione beamed at him, a sight which he would probably do anything for.

Life at Grimmauld Place adjusted to Teddy's absence and Hermione's return with surprising alacrity. Harry attempted to do some study for his Auror-ship, but he had never been very good at revising and to be honest if he wasn't prepared to fight the Dark Arts now then he never would be. At least, that's what he kept telling himself every time he closed the door to the library.

Despite the restoration of peace with Hermione, the two of them were still being frightfully polite to one another and tried to be alone together as little as possible, a fact which Ron seemed to have picked up on. Whenever the three of them were sitting by the fire in the evening he would always be the first one to go to bed, with much exaggerated yawning and several meaningful looks at Harry. The result of this was that either he or Hermione would follow quite soon after and Ron would feel he needed to repeat the performance the following night.

After one such pantomime Hermione finally got fed up. “Ron this is ridiculous how can you possibly be tired? All you ever do is sleep and this morning you didn't get up until 11 o'clock.” She glared at him, then glanced towards his newly vacated seat while Harry wasn't looking.

Taking the hint he mumbled something about keeping his strength up for Auror training and sat back down again. After a moment or two of awkward silence he said, “So does anyone want to play a game of chess? We could have a tournament, you two have a game, then I'll play the winner.” He looked expectantly from one to the other and when neither answered he leapt up with a grin and dragged across the chess set he'd left on the table.

“Come on then Harry,” Hermione laughed, “what's wrong are you scared I'll beat you?”

With a resigned sigh Harry swung his legs off of he arm of the chair and faced the board. If there was one thing he was thinking right now it sure as anything wasn't that Hermione might beat him. She was notoriously rubbish at Wizard's Chess.

Ten minutes later he was reminding himself that pride comes before a fall. Her hairstyle wasn't the only thing that Hermione had improved whilst she was in Australia; it was as though she'd been getting lessons from Ron whilst his back was turned. Not that she was beating him hands down or anything, but he was having to really concentrate to keep his advantage. Hermione on the other hand seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself; in fact she was maddeningly smug about it.

Two moves later and she had beaten him.

“How - how…?” He gaped at the board in utter disbelief. Sitting back he tried to work out how she had managed it as she beamed at him. “Ron, how did she…Ron?” But Ron seemed to have mysteriously vanished at some point during the game. “Did you see him leave?” He looked across at Hermione who was staring hopefully round the room as though expecting Ron to suddenly emerge from one of the cupboards.

“Did you see him leave?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, he must have slipped out whilst we weren't paying attention.”

“I can't understand why he's always so keen to sleep now, I mean I know he's Ron and he's genetically programmed to be lazy but even still I can't see…”

Hermione was giving him a look that stopped him mid sentence.

“Can't you? I can think of plenty of reasons - look Harry there's something that I didn't tell you before.” She took a deep breath and turned bright red as he sat up straight and gave her his full attention. “When you said that I wasn't writing to you before, well you were right. It's just that I was scared.”

“Scared?”

“I wrote you a letter every week; I just didn't post half of them because I didn't want you to see what I'd written.”

“Erm, Hermione isn't that kind of the point of writing letters?”

“Well it was what was in the letters that was the problem. You see I kind of… was trying to tell you that… Harry will you promise me something? Promise that no matter what I say next you won't freak out or I don't know… Promise that you won't be weird?”

“Hermione you're starting to scare me now. What's wrong?” He reached across and placed his hand on top of hers in concern.

“Don't Harry, don't make this harder than it already is.” She pulled her hands away and went to stand by the window. Harry wondered if she realised just how beautiful she looked with the moonlight falling on her face and hair.

“Harry, the thing is I'm… I'm - dammit!” She whirled round to face him. “Harry I'm in love with you.”

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With a snarl of frustration Harry sat up in bed and hurled the book he had been attempting to read at the opposite wall. It hit the corner of Phineas Nigellus' frame, startling the occupant from his slumber, before bouncing loudly to the floor. How could he have been such an idiot?

“If you don't mind,” the old headmaster drawled,” some of us are trying to get some sleep here. Not that I expect you to have a care for another's wellbeing; your own troubles are of course all too pressing.”

“Shut up.” Harry lay back down and stared at the ceiling trying to work out what he could have done differently. As Phineas continued to drone on about youth being wasted on the young he replayed the conversation in his head.

She whirled round to face him. “Harry I'm in love with you.”

He looked at her for a few seconds in bewildered astonishment before opening his mouth to reiterate the statement. However a vacuum seemed to have been formed in his brain and into this newly vacated space stepped the difficult, awkward part of his brain which had caused him problems earlier. Instead of professing his undying love he said, “but you still never wrote to me.” It sounded petulant even to his ears. “You say you loved me but you couldn't bring yourself to tell me. Couldn't you even just have written me a normal letter anyway? I never heard from you for weeks at a time why couldn't you just have let things stay the same between us?”

Her bottom lip wobbled as the colour drained from her face and Harry couldn't help but think that this conversation was going disastrously wrong.

“I take it you don't feel the - the same way then?” she hiccupped.

“No that's not -”

But she had already fled the room leaving him to his bitter self-reproach.

Why was he always such an idiot when it came to women? This wasn't just any woman either this was Hermione, the one person in the world that he didn't want to hurt and he seemed to be doing nothing else. All he had to do was open his stupid mouth and tell her once and for all that he loved her. Was that really so hard? Apparently so.

Realising that Phineas had finally shut up, Harry kicked off his shoes and then rolled over to turn out the lamp next to his bed. Settling back against his pillows he shut his eyes and tried to let his mind drift off to sleep. However it just didn't seem to be happening. Every time that he shut his eyes he was greeted with the image of a very familiar witch smiling back at him, it was really quite distracting. His conversation with Hermione kept circling round inside his head; all the things he could and should have said coming to mind now that it was too late to say them.

Eventually though he must have fallen asleep because the next time he squinted at his watch in the moonlight it was nearly 3am. Deciding it was pointless to try going back to sleep again he groped for his glasses and put them on before leaving his room and silently creeping down to the kitchen; as he reached the door he hesitated slightly as he saw light spilling out under it before cautiously pushing it open.

Startled by his intrusion Hermione's tear-streaked face shot up to stare at him before she registered who it was and continued to stare into the cup of tea held between her hands.

“You don't see a Grim in there I hope,” he joked nervously trying to break the tension.

It didn't work.

Hermione smiled half-heartedly before continuing to brood over the mug. “The kettle's boiled if you want a cup of tea.” Her voice sounded thick and croaky as though she'd been crying for a while.

Glad of the excuse to be doing something he quickly made his way across the kitchen and busily set about pouring the tea. As he reached for the milk he chanced a quick glance across at Hermione. This only served to make him feel worse than he already did. Sitting there in her thick, fluffy dressing gown, with her curls hanging over her face and looking so defeated she seemed so vulnerable. And it was all his fault.

Quietly he sat facing her at the table and the two of them slowly drank their tea in silence. Sitting there in the dim light afforded by only a few candles the walls of the kitchen loomed up out of the darkness and seemed more imposing and oppressive than at any time since Harry had moved in. The house was deadly silent other than a few creaking floorboards and it was so late that even Kreacher had gone to bed. The only sound in the dark kitchen was the crackle of the candles and a soft barely perceptible snoring coming from the corner cupboard.

As he lifted his cup to take a sip of tea he realised that Hermione had unintentionally mirrored his movements exactly. Catching her eye over the rim of the mug he couldn't help but feel a thrill of nervousness.

“I'm really sorry about before `Mione. I'm an idiot, I didn't really -”

“No,” she cut him off as she set down her mug, “I'm the one who's sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't going to but it was eating me up inside and it just sort of came out.” She looked down shamefacedly before taking a deep breath and starting again. “When I was in Australia it was easier to convince myself that it was just a stupid crush, but then I saw the article in the paper and I realised that if there was any chance you might have… I just had to know. I'm sorry, just forget I said anything.” A tear slowly wound its way down her cheek.

“No.”

Hermione looked up at him perplexed, but Harry thought he could see a glimmer of hope in her eyes but it was snuffed out so quickly that he wasn't sure if it had been a trick of the candles.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean don't be sorry. I'm glad you told me, you did what I was too gutless to do before.”

She smirked, “Harry you're one of the least gutless people I know… let's not argue about that just now though.” She added as he was about to argue.

“I just mean that you admitted what I couldn't - God that sounds like such a cliché.”

“Harry,” her face had gone deadly white by now, “are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“That depends on what you think I'm saying,” he smirked as she clicked her tongue in exasperation.

“Harry it's not funny; don't wind me up!”

He laughed, and was rewarded by seeing her face light up in a smile. He felt as though he just drunk a flask of Madame Pomfrey's Pepperup Potion, every nerve in his body was tingling and his head felt curiously light and airy. “Hermione,” the words came out as though someone else was speaking them, “what I'm trying to say, very badly, is that I do love you too.”

Hermione gaped at him, but it was obvious that she was desperately trying to stop the corners of her mouth from twitching up into a smile. “I… I…” she gave up and a huge grin spread across her face.

“Well,” Harry grinned back, “in eight years that's something I've never seen, Hermione Granger lost for words.”

She laughed, “and in eight years that's something I never thought you'd say to me.”

Now it was Harry's turn to look amazed. “You mean you've… for that long?” she nodded at him. “Wow I'm slow. But what about Ron, I thought the two of you…?”

Hermione blushed, “well you were so caught up with Cho and then Ginny that I just sort of gave up on you. I know your ego might find this hard to cope with but I wasn't going to wait around for you forever Harry - I'm kidding,” she added as he opened his mouth to protest. “ The truth is I never thought my feelings for you would be anything but one sided, besides you had enough to cope with Ginny, and Ron being a moron, not to mention everything else.”

Harry felt oddly ashamed as Hermione revealed the true extent of her feelings. “Hermione I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to wake up to what was right in front of me. Until recently I kept telling myself you were nothing more than a friend, I just -”

“ It's all right Harry,” she walked around the table and took hold of his hand, “you're friendship was enough, I was lucky just to have had that.”

The feel of her hand in his was doing funny things to his heart rate and he was finding it hard to concentrate on anything but the way her hair curled around her ears, shining gold in the candlelight.

“And now?” he gulped, turning fully in his chair to face her.

Hermione seemed to scan his eyes for a moment as though searching for something and she must have found it because the next moment she leaned towards him and when her face was just inches from his she whispered, “and now I'm very, very lucky.”

There lips met suddenly as Harry pushed himself to his feet and took her in his arms. He was floating on air and all he could sense was Hermione; the feel of her curls as he ran his hands though her hair and the scent that was so peculiarly hers - parchment and ink and a perfume that reminded him of wild flowers. They might have stood like that for a second or an age, Harry didn't know and he didn't care, the Knight Bus could have driven through the kitchen and he wouldn't have batted an eyelid. All that mattered was Hermione and that she was kissing him.

Eventually he had to come up for air, but he refused to let her go and Hermione didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Her eyes were full of tears but she had the biggest grin plastered across her face.

“So -” his voice came out as a croak and he cleared his throat with a laugh, “so, what do we do now?”

Hermione lightly traced her fingers along his cheek as she considered. “Well first of all Harry Potter you're going to kiss me again,” her eyes sparkled with mischief, “and then who knows, we've got the world at our feet you and I. I'm not bothered what we do as long as you're there.”

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A/N: I would like to apologise to anyone who was expecting massive plot developments in this chapter, this one is mostly a bridge, hopefully once you've read it you will understand why. Thanks again to everyone who reviews, it is much appreciated.

Harry yawned sleepily as he awoke the next morning - well lunchtime really he amended glancing at his watch. He and Hermione had talked until the light began to filter through the high kitchen windows and as a result he hadn't gotten much sleep. This didn't stop him grinning like a ridiculous fool however; for the first time in ages life was looking up. He had a fantastic godson, been accepted for an Aurorship and Hermione was in love with him - and if she was to be believed had been since he decided to play piggy-back with a troll in the girls toilets.

Rolling out of bed he made his way down to the kitchen but paused outside the door when he heard someone say his name. Were they talking about him in there? What on earth were they saying? Acting on a whim he silently apparated back upstairs and dug out his invisibility cloak before apparating straight into the kitchen unobserved.

“- you talked to him?” Ron was asking as he lounged against one of the counters his eyes curiously following Hermione's every move as she prepared herself some food.

“What gives you that idea?” she asked, the picture of innocence, then she ruined the effect by blushing furiously.

Ron grinned at her discomfort, “because you've got the same look on your face that you got at school when you were told you got a hundred percent in a test. So did you talk to Harry?” he persisted.

Hermione refused to make eye contact with him and went to sit down trailed by an incorrigible Ron. “Yes,” she conceded eventually.

“And…?” Honestly Harry smiled Ron was still as much the eager child as ever.

“Well…” Hermione seemed to be stalling, a very un-Hermione-ish act, “…well we talked and… er…”

Harry was suddenly reminded very forcibly of his reaction in the Gryffindor Common Room after Cho had kissed him in fifth year. So, apparently, was Ron.

“Did you kiss?” he asked bossily, in what was a passable impression of Hermione. The two boys grinned as Hermione cottoned onto the fact that she was being mocked and aimed a swipe at Ron's head with her spoon.

“Oh come on!” he complained, “enquiring minds want to know, besides I have to report back to George and Bill.”

“They know? Ron if you've been blabbing -” She raised the spoon threateningly again.

“I haven't. Honestly,” he protested when she continued to look menacing, “nah apparently it's been obvious to them for years. Something about two halves of a whole they said. Shame we're not all so bright isn't it?” They smiled ruefully at each other.

“What do you think the rest of your family will say?” Hermione suddenly looked worried again.

“Dunno,” Ron shrugged, “does it matter? It's not really any of their business anyway is it?”

She seemed to be lost in thought for a few seconds staring at a point just to the left of Harry, “I don't want to upset them though, your parents have been so good to me and… what about Ginny?”

Exhaling sharply between his teeth the red-head looked as though he were searching for the right words. Finally he opted for honesty, “I really don't know Hermione, Ginny's… complicated.”

It was all the answer she was ever going to get and she accepted that. “And what about you Ron?”

“Me? I… well I guess… I -” he paused then tried again, “I care about you Hermione, I always will you're my best friend, but I think the pressure of… well, we'd drive each other mental,” he smirked, “besides if I'm allowed to move on then surely it's only fair that I allow you to do the same.”

Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards Ron for being so understanding about the whole situation, the Ron of only a year ago wouldn't have been so mature about the whole thing and they all knew it. His curiosity was piqued by Hermione's next question though because it was one he had wanted to know the answer to himself.

“So how are things going with you and Luna then?”

Ron's ears suddenly flamed scarlet, “oh well… you know…”

Hermione raised an eyebrow questioningly and motioned for him to continue. “No, go on.”

Looking extremely uncomfortable, though slightly pleased with himself at the same time Ron elaborated. “Well I wrote her last week and she's got a Hogsmeade visit coming up soon so we're going to meet up then. She wants to take me to some little teashop, Madame something-or-other it's called.”

“Puddifoot's.” Hermione finished for him, “Harry went there with Cho once he said it was awful, didn't you?” She abruptly turned to address the seemingly empty space where Harry was standing. To Harry and Ron's bewilderment she then proceeded to get up from the table and walked over to pull the Invisibility Cloak off him. “Harry Potter didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to eavesdrop?” She seemed torn between annoyance and amusement.

“Wha - how did you know that I was there?”

“Because you are also sadly misinformed of the virtues of tying your shoe laces Mr Potter.” She indicated his foot and the offending lace which was trailing along the ground and would have been left out-with the Cloak's radius.

He hung his head in mock shame, “I'm sorry professor I'll be more careful next time.” Glancing up at them he turned serious once more, “sorry though, I just wanted to know what you were saying about me, sorry.”

Hermione's heart seemed to melt and while Ron made gagging noises in the background she reached up and kissed him softly, “you're forgiven.”

Harry smiled then directed a questioning look at Ron.

“Hey mate I never said anything that I wouldn't say to your face… well other than that bit about you being a conceited prat.” The three of them laughed as Harry went to make himself some breakfast.

For the next twenty minutes he felt like he was in a dream. Quite rightly, in his opinion, he had never expected Ron to take the news of his and Hermione's fledgling relationship well. But his friend had surpassed all expectations and as Hermione later put it had graduated to a tablespoon of emotional complexity.

He had to admit it was all still slightly awkward being openly affectionate in front of Ron especially considering he kept grinning like an idiot, but this would ease with time and time was something he felt sure he and Hermione would have a lot of.

It was not to last though as their tranquillity was suddenly shattered by the unexpected arrival of Mrs Weasley's head in the fire place.

“Hello dears, how are you all today then? I like your hair Hermione, it really suits her don't you think Ron?” She said all this very fast and then smiled at her son as Hermione dropped Harry's hand like a hot coal.

“Hi Mum, er yeah it's nice…” he trailed off lamely, clearly embarrassed by his mothers blatant matchmaking attempts. “What's up, is everything all right?”

“Oh yes of course dear, I was just wondering if the three of you wanted to come round for a family dinner tonight it must be so long since you've all had a proper home-cooked meal.”

“That's not true,” argued Ron, “Harry can cook and Kreacher makes dinner for us all the time!”

“Yes well…” Mrs Weasley's tone made it clear what she thought of that. “Arthur and I just thought it would be nice, of course if you don't want to -”

“We'd love to Mrs Weasley,” cut in Hermione ignoring the desperate looks Ron was casting in her direction.

Molly Weasley beamed at her, “well that's settled then, we'll be expecting you about half past four then. Alright well take care then dears, goodbye.” And with a surge of emerald flames her head disappeared from the fire place.

“Mione!” Ron exploded the minute she was gone, “what did you… why would you… how…why?” He gave her a pained look as he stumbled to an incoherent halt.

Hermione seemed to be trying not to blush, a feat at which she was failing miserably and Harry thought made her look all the more adorable.

“Well we have to tell them sometime, and surely it's better us telling them than reading it in another stupid Prophet headline isn't it?”

Ron could seem to find no answer to this so he merely groaned and rolled his eyes melodramatically before trudging out of the kitchen. After that it was several seconds before Hermione looked at Harry, the unspoken question clear on her face. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her hair - he still couldn't believe how natural the action felt - before whispering, “you're a bit mental and it's maybe not the best timing in the world, I would have liked you to myself for a while longer, but as usual you're right. We need to tell them.” Considering her earlier words he voiced his concern, “what are we going to do about the Prophet though? They'll be all over this in a flash, especially Rita, and we'll never get any peace.”

Hermione traced small patterns on his jumper thoughtfully before she replied. “I think if we're discreet in public then all they've got to write about will be rumours and they'll soon get bored of that. We could stick to Muggle London when we go on dates and things, or leave London all together, it's not as though it's difficult. We'll be fine don't worry about it.” But Harry couldn't help having a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about Rita Skeeter with her acid green quill and the mischief she could get up to.

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At twenty-five past four Harry walked into the library to find Ron busily trying to concoct an excuse for why they shouldn't go and have dinner with his family.

“The thing is Mum,” he addressed a particularly spindly bookcase, “Harry and I sort of promised Neville that we would help him pick out some fanged geraniums for his Gran's window boxes…” He turned to Harry, “oh who am I kidding I couldn't convince Luna that Nargles were real.” Nervously straightening his jumper he took a deep breath, “well I suppose we better get this over with, but when it all blows up in your face don't say I didn't warn you.” He walked out of the room as though he had been consigned to the gallows shouting back, “come on Potter, I'm not doing this on my own!”

Five minutes later an extremely nervous trio were standing at the end of the lane which led to The Burrow having chosen to apparate rather than appear out of the fire place and straight into Mrs Weasley's path. Exchanging a silent look the three of them walked slowly down the lane taking as long as possible without actually going backwards.

Upon reaching the gate they paused again and looked up at the ramshackle building. Suddenly Hermione snorted and the too boys turned to look at her. Seeing the question in their gazes she responded.

“Look at us, we've all faced Death Eaters and dark wizards more times than we can acre to count and we're scared of Ron's mother!”

Ron turned even paler as he contemplated the evening, “that's because my mother is more terrifying than Death Eaters!”

Harry tried out a grin on his face and found that he could make it half convincing, “come on guys how hard can it be?”

His best friend and his girlfriend merely responded by looking at him in utter disgust.

“Well,” Ron eventually grunted after several more seconds of silence, “I suppose we had better get this over with.”

Side by side they advanced towards the house and Ron knocked on the rickety old door. Which was immediately thrown open and he was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug courtesy of Mrs Weasley.

“Ron, here you are! We were wondering where the three of you had gotten to. Hello dears.” She released Ron and grabbed Harry and Hermione in something resembling a headlock and hugged them until they were gasping for air. “It's been so long since we've seen you all that we were beginning to wonder if something had happened to you.”

Laughing nervously the three of them followed Mrs Weasley into the house where they found Bill, Fleur and George sitting round the kitchen table. To Harry's surprise Angelina Johnson was also there looking slightly uncomfortable, but upon seeing the trio she grinned and waved them across.

“Hi Angelina, how are you?”

As they walked over, the three at the table turned to greet them as Angelina replied. “Not bad, I've been scouted for a couple of the smaller Quidditch teams so I'm waiting to see how that turns out.”

“What my dear Angelina is not telling you Harry is that the other day she was contacted by one of the Harpies scouts.” George winked at him as he stretched in an exaggerated fashion and draped his arm across the back of a red faced Angelina's chair.

“Wow Angelina,” Ron exclaimed, “well done, the Harpies are huge news!” Then bungling along with all of his usual tact he asked, “so are you two together now?”

Harry and Hermione shared a look as Bill rolled his eyes. George looked as though he was about to do something very painful to Ron, but was prevented from doing so by Mrs Weasley coming across with an armful of plates and depositing them in front of him. “Lay the table George. Hermione, Fleur can you come and help me with the food please, boys,” she looked at her youngest son and his friend, “you two can get some extra chairs from the shed.” Her appearance put the trio back on edge again and so without a word Harry and Ron slunk back outside as everyone moved to obey the Weasley matriarch.

As they walked to end of the garden Ron finally voiced the thought that was bouncing around Harry's skull, “mate if we tell her she going to go mental, you know what she's like.”

“I know but we've got to tell her, and if we don't Hermione will, she's determined to come clean.”

Ron smirked, “you make it sound as though you've done something wrong.”

Harry stacked a couple chairs to carry them inside, “and you don't think your Mum will see it that way?”

“Fair point.”

By the time the two of them had half carried, half dragged the chairs back into the kitchen and narrowly avoided breaking their necks by tripping over several more adventurous gnomes along the way Mr Weasley and Percy had arrived home from the Ministry. From the red tinge to Percy's ears Harry realised that some sort of argument was ongoing between the two.

“But it's what you've been waiting for.” Mr Weasley was saying, “I can't understand why you've turned it down.”

“Honestly father,” Percy huffed, “I can't see what the problem is, it's my decision to make and I thought you would be happy with it!”

Glancing from his father to his brother and back again Ron interceded cautiously, “what's up? Has something happened?”

Looking exasperated Mr Weasley turned to his youngest son. “Your brother has taken it into his head to turn down a promotion at the Ministry, Merlin only knows why, and seems to think that it's what we would want.”

Everyone in the room stared at Percy as though he had grown an extra head until eventually Bill broke the silence. “What job did they offer you Perce?”

The mumbled reply was too quiet for Harry to catch, but he needn't have worried because mere seconds later Mrs Weasley repeated it at such a high volume that it was a wonder that half of Ottery St. Catchpole couldn't hear it. “Head of Broom Regulatory Control?! What on earth did you turn it down for? Your own department, that's a huge promotion, why on earth didn't you take it.”

“Because,” Percy snapped at his mother, “I've had to learn the hard way this last year that some things are more important than work.”

Harry winced as soon as Percy had spoken and looked to Molly for her reaction. She gazed blankly at her son for a moment and whether she saw him or Fred Harry couldn't be sure, but suddenly her eyes filled with tears and she flung herself at Percy with a muffled wail. No one said a word although Harry was sure he caught George trying to suppress a grin as he watched Percy pat his mother awkwardly on the back.

Glancing at Ron Harry raised an eyebrow in silent question. Ron merely raised one in return.

Finally releasing her son Molly gazed up at him fondly, “Percy I know your career has always been important to you, accepting a promotion doesn't mean that you've chosen it over your family.” At this George coughed sceptically and Percy turned a shade that would have made a raspberry proud and said nothing.

“Well perhaps we should talk about this later,” Mr Weasley counselled, “once everyone's had something to eat and calmed down a bit.”

For the next few minutes everyone bustled about finishing their assigned tasks and helping Mrs Weasley bring the platters of food to the table. Once everything was set Harry moved to take a seat between Hermione and Ron, he had reckoned however, without Mrs Weasley's interference.

“Harry dear why don't you come down and sit next to me, I've got a question I need to ask you?” Shooting a desperate glance at Hermione, who merely gave him an encouraging smile, and with a sinking feeling, Harry complied.

And so it was he found himself sandwiched between Percy and his mother, with Ron and Hermione sitting opposite him and looking increasingly awkward. None of them said very much as they ate, they just communicated silently with an anguished look every so often. For Ron not speaking wasn't a problem, it just left him more time to shovel platefuls of food into his mouth, but for Harry and Hermione it meant fending off Mrs Weasley's probing questions into what the three of them had been up to at Grimmauld Place.

Halfway through pudding Harry looked up to catch a very odd pantomime going on between Hermione and Angelina who was sitting next to her. His former Quidditch team mate flicked her eyes from Harry to Hermione several times and then raised her eyebrows suggestively at Hermione, who blushed ever so slightly and after glancing at Mrs Weasley to make sure she wasn't looking, nodded. Angelina then grinned and gave Harry the thumbs up across the table before leaning over and whispering to George. Harry flushed and rolled his eyes as George winked at him and kicked Bill under the table to get his attention. Turning away from a discussion on Quidditch with his father Bill looked confused at first as his brother began a subtle mime, using Angelina to hide his motions from his mother, that involved pointing at Harry and Hermione and then pressing his two forefingers together like a child pretending its fingers were kissing. Harry could barely suppress an embarrassed groan and was only thankful that the bizarre situation went no further.

As the last person scraped their pudding plate clean Mrs Weasley got up and began to collect the plates to take them to the sink suddenly Bill got up to help her and as he moved behind Harry to take his plate he leant down to whisper in his ear.

“Tell her now, I'll distract her once you have, don't worry.”

Watching Mfrs Weasley as she returned to the table Harry swallowed hard and plunged in. “Er… Mrs Weasley…” His throat dried up as she stared at him expectantly.

“Yes Harry dear?”

It only occurred to him now that he had no idea how to approach this, “er, well you see the thing is…” Surprisingly it was Ron who came to his rescue.

“Mum, once Hogwarts has stopped for the holidays can we invite Luna to a family meal?” Harry smiled gratefully at him.

“Luna, that's Xenophelius' daughter isn't it?” Mr Weasley asked from the other end of the table then winked at Ron, “well done son!”

His wife it seemed wasn't quite so quick on the uptake, “Luna? What, what do you mean Ron?” She darted a frantic glance at Hermione.

“Well Mum the thing is we're sort of going out now so I thought…” he trailed off as George sniggered from the other end of the table.

“Going out?!” Mrs Weasley's voice came out as a strangled squeak, “but - but…” she stared helplessly at them.

Seeing his friends squirm uncomfortably Harry found that his voice had come back. “Actually Mrs Weasley, Hermione and I are going out now.” At that moment Harry thought Voldemort himself could have risen from the dead and yodelled his way around the kitchen in lederhosen and the woman wouldn't have noticed. Her eyes seemed to bulge out of her head and everyone at the table had to repress the urge to shelter under it as she was clearly working herself up to one of her famous explosions.

“Well while we're all in the mood for sharing,” Bill abruptly got to his feet, apparently the only person unphased by his mothers expression and took Fleur's hand. “I think it's time we told you all, Fleur and I are going to have a baby.”

A/N: Not much of a cliffie I know, but I thought it was an appropriate place to end the chapter so that the next one can be about the fall out. Once again I apologise for having left a ridiculous amount of time between updates, I've been very busy and when I have been writing I've been doing another fic that I hope to begin posting soon. Thank you to all who read and review, if you haven't died of boredom while waiting, it's much appreciated.

hermy_madness

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For several seconds Harry thought Mrs Weasley was about to explode from what appeared to be an information overload. Her entire face seemed to go slack and her mouth opened and shut slackly as though she were a fish gasping for air. Then clearly deciding upon the most critical piece of information she suddenly jumped back to life, emitting a girlish squeal that would have made Lavender and Parvati proud.

“A baby! Ooh at last!” Having clearly forgotten all about Harry and his revelation she shoved him out of the way as she barrelled round the table to deliver her son and daughter-in-law a crushing hug each. Once she released them she began to jabber at Fleur at a million miles an hour, questioning her on everything from baby names to whether or not she had gotten enough sleep last night. Ignoring the young woman's protests that she was fine she lead her away into the living room with the order that she looked peaky and needed to sit down.

Once they were gone everyone remaining in the kitchen crowded around Bill offering congratulations and asking how long they'd known for.

“About a week or two,” he answered grinning deliriously, “we wanted to let the news sink in before we told you all.”

As Harry, Ron and Hermione shook hands with him, they all expressed their heartfelt thanks for revealing the news when he had.

“That reminds me,” George said loudly from behind Harry, “there are more congratulations in order. So when did you two finally join the human race then?” He grinned mischievously at them whilst Angelina gave him a dig in the ribs. “And Ickle Ronniekins, who would have thought he could grow up so fast?” With a laugh he disappeared out the room dragging Angelina with him as Ron's ears coloured and he drew his wand.

“Perhaps I had better go and rescue Fleur from Mum.” Bill looked terrified at the prospect.

Clapping him on the back Arthur followed him. “I'll come with you son, and congratulations again I couldn't be prouder of you.”

This left the trio in the kitchen with Percy who glanced around at the uncomfortably. He was, Harry reflected, very different from the Percy he had encountered just a year ago. He was still as pompous as ever, but there seemed to be less arrogance ad confidence underlying it than there had been before. But they had all been through so much, that he doubted any of them had come through the war unscathed.

“Well… I suppose this means we'll be uncles now.”

“Yeah.” Ron seemed slightly dazed by the news, “I suppose we will be.”

Hermione caught Harry's eye and the two of them grinned over their friend's disbelief. Ron seemed to be rather overwhelmed by the news. “Ron,” she laughed, “if you're this stressed when Bill's going to be a father, what are you going to be like when it happens to you?”

At this Ron paled and looked as though someone had hit him with a slug vomiting hex again. “Me…?” He looked appalled. “I… I... Percy do you fancy a game of chess?” Ron decided the best approach was to ignore Hermione altogether.

As the brothers turned to go up the stairs Harry felt his girlfriend move beside him and slip her hand into his. Harry glanced down at her to see her staring in the direction that Bill and Fleur had gone with a rather misty expression on her face. Smiling affectionately at her he squeezed her hand gently. “I think it's wonderful, don't you?”

Startled from her reverie she looked at him questioningly. Obligingly he responded, “after everything that's happened they're finding happiness.” He paused thoughtfully, “they'll be wonderful parents.”

“You will be too some day.” Hermione leant against his shoulder.

Something strange thumped in Harry's chest. “Do you want children?”

Suddenly Hermione looked unsure of herself, pulling nervously at her lip with her teeth she turned towards him with her head down so that he couldn't see her face. “I… yes someday, I suppose - I mean, I always imagined that one day I would… But that doesn't mean -” she rushed to a stop staring up at him pleadingly. “I'm not trying to pressure you or anything. I mean we only just started dating”

Harry pulled her into a hug. “I love you `Mione.” After a moment standing like that he spoke to the top of a bushy head of hair. “Do you want to go for a walk? Get out of the house for a bit.”

“Get out of Molly's way you mean?” Hermione smirked up at him and he grinned in response.

As they walked to the end of the garden Harry considered their conversation. He'd never really given serious thought about having a family, hadn't even realised it was possible until recently. Family was just one of the things he'd accepted he would never have, it was as much a part of him as the scar on his forehead. Belonging somewhere was something he'd always yearned for, to have a place to call home that wasn't his school, or the Burrow. Could he have that? More importantly could he have that with Hermione? She was walking just a few feet away from him, the autumn sunset through the trees cast dappled light on her short hair and she had a happy contented smile on her face as she gazed at something that he couldn't see. Suddenly it Harry that she was the only person that he ever wanted to have a family with, he wanted his children to have her fuzzy brown curls and smoky brown eyes, her passion for books and learning and her kind smile.

Catching him watching her she showed off that last feature, “what is it?”

Harry found himself oddly emotional and had to clear his throat before answering. “Nothing, I was just thinking how beautiful you look and how lucky I am.” He grinned, he couldn't tell her what he was really going through his mind. As she'd said herself, they'd only been officially dating for two days. He didn't want to totally freak her out.

“Smooth move Potter,” she reached up to ruffle his hair playfully, “but I can read you better than that, when you're eloquent you're usually hiding something, now spill.”

Harry feigned hurt at her comments whilst quickly deciding how not to lie without telling the truth. Realising the futility of this thought process he decided on a modicum of truth. “I was just thinking about the future, I mean I can actually have one now. Obsessive evil guy free and all that.”

Pulling him close she wrapped his arms around her waist, “and no on deserves one more than you Harry.” Their kiss was tentative at first - it was still a fairly new experience for both of them, but became more heated as they stood there, lost in each other. Finally Hermione broke the kiss, slightly breathless, and squinted up at him suspiciously. “What about the future?”

He winked conspiratorially at her and kissed her swiftly before she could protest.

Eventually it began to get dark and they had to return to the house. It was with not a little trepidation that Harry opened the kitchen door and stuck his head round it to check the coast was clear before pulling Hermione in after him and quickly shutting the door.

“I was wondering where you two had gotten to.”

The two of them jumped guiltily and spun around, but it was only Ron who had just entered the kitchen carrying a tray laden with cups.

“We were in the garden,” Hermione quickly supplied.

“Oh… I thought that was where you must be.” He paused for a moment before pulling a face. “Mum's being unbearable, you'd think Fleur was the first person ever to get knocked up - pregnant,” he amended after catching Hermione's disapproving look. “Seriously though, one mention of baby's she gets all gooey eyed and fanatical. It's scary.”

“Has she said anything else about…” Harry waved his hand vaguely between himself and Hermione.

“Nah mate, I reckon you two are in the clear for now, Mum's not going to be thinking of anything other than woolly bootees for the next nine months at least. Speaking of which do you want to head off, I don't think I could stand much more.”

Harry laughed as Hermione muttered “honestly Ron.”

Taking that as assent he stuck his head though the door. “Right that's us off then.” Several people shouted farewells through to the kitchen but he found themselves being dragged back into the living room by Mrs Weasley anyway.

“Mum, do you have to -” Ron was protesting as Harry and Hermione followed him. His mother was in the process of affectionately straightening his shirt and neatening up his hair, you could almost see her envisioning a pair of scissors, whilst he tried desperately to fend her off. Mrs Weasley just laughed and kissed him on the jaw.

“Muuuum!”

“Make sure you eat properly and come round to visit us soon, the house isn't the same without you.” Emotion flickered across her face briefly before she concealed it again and turned with a slightly forced smile towards Harry and Hermione. “And you two are always welcome too of course.”

They smiled nervously back, but Harry was just thankful that she was speaking to them and not shouting. Clearly Hermione felt the same as she stepped carefully forwards, “yes, dinner was lovely, thank you so much.” Her hopeful smile was met with a frosty stare.

Feeling it was his turn to try and rescue the situation, either that or his saving-people-thing had kicked in again, Harry turned to Bill and Fleur who were seated on the sofa with their arms around each other. “Well congratulations again you two, I'm really happy for you both, we'll have to have you all round for dinner some time,” he spoke to the rest of the family, “as soon as we get the house finished, we'll let you know when.”

The three of them hurriedly said goodbye and dissapparated with a series of loud cracks. Reappearing outside number 12 Harry quickly checked that no one had seen them before running up the steps and letting them into the house. They moved in silence to the drawing room and collapsed onto the sofa with relief. Rolling out the tension he hadn't realised had built up in his shoulders he looked at his friends. Hermione had her head resting on the back of the sofa with her eyes shut whilst Ron glanced across at him, blue eyes dancing.

“Well that was fun, we should do that again sometime.”

Hermione cracked one eyelid and looked from Ron who was trying to keep a straight face to her boyfriend and the corner of her mouth twitched. For several seconds they all tried to remain serious, but it was a losing battle and when Hermione snorted in mirth the three of them burst out laughing. All the adrenaline that had been rushing through their systems all day was released as though someone had opened a pressure valve. They laughed until the tears were streaming down their faces and Harry had to hold his sides to stop them from hurting.

“I think,” he finally managed to gasp out, “that that was probably the most awkward afternoon of my entire life.”

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“Harry! Will you stop fidgeting!” Hermione slapped his arm in mock exasperation as she tried to straighten his collar and make him look generally presentable. As she caught his eye he grinned and gave her a swift kiss.

“`Mione I'm fine, stop fussing, it's a lost cause anyway.”

Rolling her eyes she muttered something about boys and their appearance before giving his shirt a final twitch and standing back to contemplate the effect.

It was the morning of the twentieth of October and Harry was waiting for Ron to come back downstairs so they could leave for the Ministry. Since it was their first day of Auror training Ron had gotten it into his head that it would be more memorable to go by way of the main entrance. For once Hermione agreed with him although she just didn't want him to arrive covered in soot.

Seeing his girlfriend spot something else to criticise about his appearance Harry quickly darted out of the kitchen and shouted for Ron to hurry up. Truth be told Hermione was making him nervous. True he was nervous about his first day anyway, but her nerves and fussing was making it worse, he was finding it difficult to keep his breakfast down.

“So are we ready?” Ron appeared at the foot of the stairs looking as ill as Harry felt.

“You'll be fine, the famous Harry Potter and Ron Weasley could practically teach classes in how to defeat dark wizards.” Hermione, who had followed him out of the kitchen, snuck an arm around his waist and planted a kiss on his cheek. “That's for luck.”

Pulling her closer Harry kissed her thoroughly only breaking apart when Ron started mock retching in the background, “I need all the luck I can get,” he grinned at her.

On their arrival at the Ministry they were made their way along to the Auror office where they were greeted by the same stylish witch who had taken their applications and shepherded into a cubicle to wait. One other person was sitting there pensively and he almost leapt out of his seat when he realised who had walked in.

“Well I must say… such an honour… you've no idea -”

“Hi, I'm Harry,” he held out his hand for the young man to shake. He seemed to be roughly their age perhaps a year or two older. Bushy brown hair stuck out at angles all over his head and timid blue eyes glanced quickly between Harry and Ron.

“John Vance, I was two years above you at school; in Hufflepuff… you probably don't remember me.”

“You must have been in my brothers' year - Ron Weasley by the way.”

“Pleasure to meet you… terribly sorry to hear about… well, you have my condolences.”

“Yeah… thanks.” Ron looked suddenly uncomfortable again.

An awkward silence descended as Harry and Ron sat down to wait, thankfully the witch returned soon with four other recruits that Harry vaguely recognised and an older grizzled wizard.

“Harald Burnes,” the wizard spoke in quick, clipped tones, “I'm in charge of Auror Training this year so we're stuck with each other.” As he spoke his lower lip seemed to droop slightly to one side and his narrow brown eyes flicked rapidly between the seven of them. “Now I know some of you,” his eyes rested momentarily on Harry and Ron before resuming their dance, “might think that you know all there is to know about fighting the Dark Arts, but believe me there is always more to learn and you will all be going back to basics.” He twitched his head towards his shoulder as an indication that they were to follow and swept out of the cubicle.

They spent most of the rest of the day demonstrating to Burnes exactly what spells they could perform and Harry developed the distinct feeling that the wizard was determined to dislike him no matter what he did. Harry had just successfully warded the teacher off with a particularly complex spell when Burnes called a halt for the day and dismissed them.

“Well isn't he just sunshine and daisies?” Ron grumbled in his ear as the two of them made their way to the Atrium. “Why can we never get normal teachers?”

Harry laughed at this, “Ron when has anything about us ever been normal?”

The next few weeks passed so quickly that Harry was sure he would have missed it had he blinked. Nearly everyday was spent training and Burnes made sure they covered everything from disarming to tracking suspects with magic. Harry was undoubtedly top of the class, if you could call such a small group a class, but John Vance turned out to be a very capable wizard too, despite his shyness. In the little free time they had Harry and Ron struck up a tentative friendship with him and invited him round to Grimmauld Place several times for dinner after training was done for the day.

Hermione had taken over the decorating of Number 12 in the boys absence and she went about her task with such ferocious energy that the boys tended to retreat to the kitchen whenever she appeared with a colour chart in hand. Suddenly it was December and the house was almost finished to celebrate this and the fact that Hermione had been accepted to be a Healer at St Mungo's they invited George Andromeda and Teddy round for supper. They would have asked Ron's parents as well, but Mrs Weasley wasn't inclined to be too friendly towards Harry and Hermione at the moment so at Ron's suggestion they decided not to.

“Well Harry that was surprisingly good, I'm impressed, not many boys your age can cook.” Andromeda Tonks sat back from the table and smiled at him. “You should hang on to this one Hermione.”

Harry's girlfriend blushed but grinned in spite of herself, “I intend to, don't worry.”

Loud vomit noises and childish giggles came form the spot on the floor where Ron and George were entertaining Teddy.

“I hope you two aren't teaching my godson bad habits,” Harry tried and failed to frown disapprovingly at them as he cleared the dishes into the sink with a flick of his wand.

“Would we?! I'm wounded by the accusation Harry.” George smirked up at him before scooping Teddy up and pretending to make him fly above his head.

“George watch out he's just -” Harry looked on in amused horror as Teddy proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach into George's hair, “- eaten.”

Tutting gently Hermione quickly got up from her seat and rescued George from the now happily burbling, green haired, infant by transferring him to her hip and carrying him over to the sink to clean him up, cooing softly all the while. George, looking utterly disgusted and appalled, took out his wand and vanished the mess whilst muttering soft threats under his breath much to Ron's amusement.

Andromeda attempted to redirect the conversation. “So how are you two getting on at training, replaced the teacher yet? I hear Burnes is an old dragon.”

“It's going well actually; it's amazing how much we have to learn. Burnes isn't that bad once you get used to him,” responded Harry who had developed a healthy respect for the Auror despite his bad temper.

Ron did not share this opinion. “He hates everyone, especially us because we don't need half the stupid classes.” He caught Harry's expression before reluctantly adding, “although it was quite cool when he showed us that spell to detect lies.”

“Isn't that what Veritaserum's for?” George had recovered from his run in with Teddy.

“It's for when you're in the field and don't have any handy, it can't make you tell the truth like Veritaserum does, but it does make your face swell up and turn purple if you don't.”

Harry smirked at Ron's obvious pleasure as he related how Burnes had demonstrated this particular charm on Leo Wilkes, a trainee he had taken a particular dislike to. Harry, who didn't mind Wilkes that much even though he was a bit full of himself, was convinced that the only reason Ron didn't like him was that he bore a startling resemblance to a certain Slytherin yearmate of theirs'.

That night, once everyone had gone to their respective homes, Harry and Hermione were sitting next to a roaring fire in the sitting room watching Ron snore loudly in the opposite armchair. They had lapsed into a comfortable silence which Hermione, raising her head from his shoulder, broke saying “oh, I almost forgot, Mum and Dad asked if we wanted to come round for Christmas dinner at theirs'. I thought it was a good idea, it'll give you a chance to get to know them more.”

“Sure,” he kissed the top of her head, “it's probably safer to stay out of Ginny's way at the moment too.”

Hermione snorted darkly in response.

Sitting there in the half dark, Harry looked down at his girlfriend admiring the way the firelight softened her features and brought out copper tones in her hair that he hadn't even known were there. Staring into the flames her wide brown eyes seemed to dance joyfully whilst at the same time managing to look infinite and soulful. At that moment Harry, who already knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this wonderful, feisty, intelligent witch, made up his mind to propose. He'd have to do it properly of course, get a ring and find the perfect moment. Hopefully she'd say yes, and he was fairly certain she would if she felt the way he thought she did. They were quite young to marry by most people's standards but they weren't much older than his parents had been and after all they had been through together people would understand. Not that he cared what other people thought -

“Harry are you alright?” Hermione interrupted his internal monologue, waving her hand in front of his face. “You were miles away, is everything alright?”

“Everything is fantastic.” With a smile that almost split his face in half he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her thoroughly. Slightly surprised by his effusive response, unusual for the usually serious Harry, Hermione willingly complied.

In the following weeks the three friends set about the further transformation of Number 12 by putting up every Christmas decoration they could get their hands on. George, how they never knew, managed to acquire for them two enormous trees which went up in the sitting room and the kitchen. Red and gold streamers, similar to the ones at his birthday party half a lifetime ago, were provided courtesy of Hermione and draped over every piece of furniture and light fitting. Kreacher, who had probably never before seen Christmas celebrated on such a scale, slightly misunderstood one Harry's suggestions the upshot of which was that for a while the hall was transformed into a forest of potted holly bushes until they could be redistributed around the house.

December also meant a dramatic increase in the fan mail arriving for Harry. By Christmas Eve almost every inch of available wall space in the hall had been covered in wizard Christmas cards. It looked like an explosion in a charm factory. Not only did they flash different colours but Father Christmases were chased from card to card by irate reindeer whilst carol singing witches sang counterpoint to the angels in the nativity scenes. It had left Harry slightly bewildered and amused at first, but by that evening it was grating on his nerves and he was actively avoiding the hallway.

It had been decided that Andromeda would bring Teddy round to the house in the morning, then in the afternoon Harry and Hermione would go to the Granger's leaving the others to go to the Burrow. Harry hadn't divulged his plans for the evening to anyone yet as he had decided it would be the perfect time to propose to Hermione. The ring, a simple white gold band with a single diamond, was wrapped and hidden in the bottom of his wardrobe. He had had to take Polyjuice potion and assume the appearance of one of their neighbours to maintain secrecy in buying the ring. The last thing he needed was the Prophet or Rita Skeeter getting hold of the news. He didn't want anything to spoil this moment.

That night, in his newly decorated bedroom, Harry found sleep to be elusive, he was excited about the day to come but also increasingly apprehensive. Thoughts of everything and anything that could possibly go wrong chased each other through his mind. He had put so much planning into this one evening, the thought that it might not be enough tortured him. He got up twice to make sure that the ring was still where he had left it and hadn't somehow mysteriously vanished in the twenty minutes since he had last checked. The irrational fear that she might just turn him down was too terrifying to contemplate; what he would do after such an eventuality even more so. Eventually, he was no longer sure if it was late or early, Harry drifted into an uneasy slumber plagued with dreams of running towards things he could never quite reach and, rather bizarrely, being crushed under a giant Christmas pudding.

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“Hang on a minute,” Harry yelled, hopping round his room with a foot half into his sock, as the doorbell went off the next morning.

“It's alright Harry,” Hermione called from the hallway, “I'll get it.”

As he threw on his shoes and made a last desperate attempt to comb his hair he could hear his girlfriend welcoming Andromeda and Teddy into the house and wishing them both a Merry Christmas. Giving his hair up as a bad job - he wasn't sure why he still bothered to be honest - he grabbed his gift to Hermione from his wardrobe and ran down the stairs to greet them.

“How's my favourite godson doing today then?” He scooped Teddy from his grandmother's arms whilst giving her a kiss on the cheek and blew a big raspberry into his hair which turned a bright turquoise shade as he giggled delightedly.

“A bit grizzly this morning,” Andromeda answered hanging her coat on the stand and handing some parcels to Hermione, “but I'm sure he'll be fine now that he's the centre of attention.” Harry grinned at her.

“What's that Harry?” Hermione looked curiously at the present in his hand as he shifted it to readjust Teddy on his hip. To disguise its identity he had placed the ring box inside a much longer one, that way it would be more of a surprise.

“It's your other Christmas present, to open later; I was going to put it with the ones we're taking to your parents,” he admitted truthfully. “I forgot to put it under the tree last night.”

“Oh,” she blushed, “I only got you one gift. You didn't have to get me two - thank you though; it's lovely!”

“You haven't seen what's in it yet… So shall we go and open some presents then Teddy?” and he bounced off excitedly with the baby into the sitting room.

“It makes you wonder who the child is,” Andromeda watched the two of them go affectionately, since her daughter's death she had somewhat adopted Harry as a surrogate son.

“He had so few good Christmases when he was a child,” Hermione was watching them both as well, “I think he's making up for it now. You should have seen him in the toy shop getting things for Teddy. I think he bought half the shop!”

Andromeda laughed as they followed the boys. “That child is going to be utterly ruined.”

Harry was sitting in the middle of the floor next to the massive tree with Teddy in his lap, both of them looking the picture of childish anticipation, explaining to him about the fairies lighting up the tree - which the baby kept trying to grab and then chuckling happily when they flitted about his hands.

“Ron,” Hermione called as they sat down. “Come on or you'll miss the presents.”

There was a minutes silence and then the pounding of feet before there long-legged friend appeared in the doorway. “Sorry,” he panted, “I was just helping Kreacher check the mince pies.” He sat down quickly as Harry eyed the crumbs around his mouth with suspicion.

“Anyway,” he turned back to the tree, “I think Teddy should go first, what do you say little mate?”

They spent the next half hour unwrapping presents punctuated every five minutes by another gift for Teddy: a tiny set of Chudley Cannons robes from Ron, who insisted that children had to be indoctrinated early, an enchanted baby book from Hermione, which worked much like a pensieve except the memories were kept on individual photo-like frames on each page, a giant fluffy bear from his grandmother and from Harry he received a miniature Hogwarts Express, complete with track to run it on, a wizarding baby walker which grew with the child and changed colour every half hour, a bouncy ball that had models of different wizarding locations alternating inside of it, several sets of baby clothes - including a jumper with a huge phoenix on the front - and his very own toy broom.

“He better not use that in the house,” was Andromeda's comment, but they were all having too much fun for her to say it with any seriousness.

From Ron he received a Foe-glass (“just to be on the safe side”) and a copy of the latest edition of Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century in which he had bookmarked the entire chapter at the back devoted to Harry. Ron ducked laughing, as he threw it at him, much to Hermione's outrage. A new, emerald green cloak was his gift from Andromeda and Teddy and from Hermione he received Aptitude for Aurors by Parmenio Bellatorus, and a really long, stripy, multicoloured scarf.

Hermione was the last person to open her gifts (a pair of emerald earrings and a set of books on the medicinal properties of various herbs, plants and fungi from Harry) and once that was done they all repaired to the kitchen for an extensive Christmas dinner as prepared by Kreacher, who had gone to extra lengths that morning after receiving a new blanket from Hermione and some Black family silver that Harry had found in the darkest corner of the attic.

“Well I don't think I could eat another mouthful,” Harry sat back after polishing off his second helping of Christmas pudding topped with liberal quantities of custard.

“Yeah? Well feel sorry for me mate, I've got another dinner to have when I go home.” Ron emphasised his point by belching loudly, much to Teddy's delight.

“I'm sure you'll manage somehow” Hermione looked over disapprovingly. Then laughed as Ron pulled a face at her.

“You can always come you know,” he looked at his two friends slyly. Harry and Hermione both snorted in unison.

“Perhaps another day -”

“We have to see my parents.”

Chuckling drew their attention and they all looked over at Andromeda. “You three are like a comedy act. You really should hear yourselves sometime.”

“Baahhhbeee,” Teddy concurred smashing his hands into his own piece of pudding and then proceeding to smear it over his face, the high chair, and everything within arms reach.

Sighing resignedly Ron got up stiffly from the table. “Well I better think about making a move then. I'll send Mum and Ginny love from the two of you shall I?” The last they heard of him after they wished him a happy Christmas was Ron chuckling to himself as he went into the hallway.

After that the three and a half of them retired back to the living room and played several Christmas games, or the wizard versions thereof. In charades you could use your wand to conjure objects that helped in the pantomime and in Who am I? you could cast a glamour on the other person rather than just stick a label on their head. All too soon it was time for Andromeda and Teddy to go as Harry and Hermione had to get ready to leave to go to her parents house.

“Well bye then little man.” He gave Teddy a cuddle and actually received one in return which caused a little lump to form in his throat. “I'll see you soon ok? Promise to be a good boy for Grandma and no more transfiguring the furniture when you have a temper tantrum.” In response Teddy turned his hair a brilliant golden shade - Harry was sure he knew what he was talking about really. “Next time I see you I'll show you how to ride that broom alright?”

“As long as you don't break any of my ornaments while you do it then that's fine by me.” Andromeda smiled fondly at him. “Bye Harry, we both had a lovely day.” She reached across to kiss him on the cheek as she took Teddy back from him. “Say Merry Christmas Teddy.” She helped him wave goodbye then with one last parting smile they walked to the bottom of the front path and disapparated. Harry watched the space where they had vanished for a moment enjoying the warm, contented feeling the day had generated within him.

“Haaarry,” Hermione called his name from the living room as he shut the door. Quickly, because she sounded slightly panicked and her voice had taken on that high squeaky tone it adopted whenever she was getting stressed or hysterical, he went back to the living room. Time stopped. There sitting amongst all the paper and paraphernalia of Christmas was his girlfriend, white as a sheet and holding in her hand the box that should have been safely wrapped up under the tree waiting for that perfect evening he had planned. Only it wasn't. It was open and Hermione was staring at the ring as though it was about to bite her.

“Harry?” she repeated switching her confused eyes to his face.

It was ruined. All his careful planning, the sleepless nights trying to work out the perfect thing to say, the menu he and Kreacher had spent days concocting, the hope of seeing the enraptured look on Hermione's face as she would have opened the gift in front of the fire and he got down on one knee. Now she just looked as though she was going to vomit.

“You weren't supposed to open that.” It was all he could think to say.

“What is it?” There, that was it; the idea of them getting married had obviously never occurred to her and now that she was presented with the ring she was still clueless because it was something she just didn't have planned, and he knew how big Hermione was on sticking to plans. Either that or she knew and was going to say no so she was giving him an escape clause so he could back out with his dignity semi-intact. He could say it was a friendship ring, or that he'd gotten it mixed up with someone else's gift, but who else would he be giving a ring to? That would make things worse, she'd think he was having an affair or that he was just plain insane… maybe she thought he was mad anyway, God knows he would think the same if he was her, especially now that he was just standing there staring at her with his mouth slightly open and his brain going into overdrive as he scrambled for what to say next. All his pretty speeches had flown clean out of his head. Say something Potter!

“I… I um… It's a ring.” Genius.

Hermione stared at said object for a moment more before clearing her throat and speaking again. “Yes, I can see that… what…” Was Hermione Granger lost for words? “What sort of a ring?”

“Well, it was… well you see…”

“Yes?”

Harry screwed up every ounce of his courage - how could this be harder than facing a rampaging dragon or defeating the greatest dark wizard of all time? Because it was Hermione that's why - and spoke to the air three inches to the left of her face.

“Well it's an engagement ring. You see I was going to ask you tonight at dinner and Kreacher was helping me make roast beef and I had everything planned out in my head and there was going to be a fire and my hair would stay flat. You weren't supposed to open it just now and I hadn't told anyone else because I wanted it to be a surprise and I knew what I was going to say I had a speech and everything, although I'm not that good at speeches so it was going to be relatively simple, and then I put it in the bigger box so you wouldn't know what it was and I wanted it to be a surprise.” Ok so he didn't so much speak as babble at her. Smooth Potter.

Hermione sniffed suddenly causing his gaze to snap back to her face which was soaked with tears as they cascaded down he cheeks. Harry's brain immediately jumped into protective mode.

“Hermione what's wrong?” He rushed over to her and knelt beside her on the rug. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry, we can forget all about it if you want, it was a stupid idea. I just want you to be happy.”

She let out a watery chuckle at this and he was relieved to see that through the tears she was actually smiling. “Do you really mean it Harry?” She sniffed again as she took his hand in her free one.

“Yes!” He was emphatic. “I don't care what we do as long as we're together and you're happy. We don't need to get married if you don't want to.”

“No, I meant… I meant do you really want to marry me?”

He stared at her earnestly for a moment, at her watery brown eyes and her mouth usually so stubborn but at the moment trembling as she sniffed and hiccupped, at the mascara which she never usually wore except on special occasions that was now streaked down her cheeks. He'd never seen anything more beautiful.

“Yes.”

A half sob, half laugh exploded out of her as she wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Well come on then,” she sniffed trying to compose herself. “If we're going to do this we better do it properly. What were you going to say to me?”

Harry's heart stopped, actually it did more than stop, it seemed to disappear out of his chest altogether went zinging around the room like a mental ping-pong ball and then re-entered his chest with the force of a small bomb exploding. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

She was looking at him expectantly now, so he cleared his throat and tried to rack his brain for the words he had spent so long rehearsing.

“Hermione Granger, you are the most wonderful woman I have ever met in my whole life. You're loyal and kind and generous and smart and so, so beautiful. You've always been there for me whenever I needed you, through all the good times and the bad - and there's certainly been more of the latter - and you've never once deserted me. I can never thank you enough for everything you've done for me and I can't imagine what I ever did that made me lucky enough to have you in my life. I knew you were special the moment you stepped into that compartment on the Hogwarts Express seven years ago and I'm so glad you did because I can't imagine how I would have gotten through everything without you by my side or what my life would have been like without you in it. Sometimes I'm scared to open my eyes in the morning in case it was all just a dream, but it's not and you're here and you're real and I love you with every fibre of my being. So…” he took the ring box from her trembling fingers and adopted the traditional proposing stance. “Hermione Granger… will you marry me?”

As she looked up at him through eyes that were once more pouring tears, he could see the answer shining from her eyes, but he wanted to let her say it so he waited with patience he hadn't known he possessed. Rising up on her knees she took his face in both of her hands and gently kissed him. It wasn't eager or passionate or the sort of kiss that blows your socks off, but it was simple and tender and oh-so-Hermione. She broke away after just a moment and looked straight into his eyes with utter conviction as a wide grin spread across her face.

“Yes.”

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Harry looked out of the window with mounting apprehension - was it too late to ask everyone to go home? Half of the wizarding world must have turned up. He watched as two witches he vaguely recognised as Hermione's colleagues talking to a man he was certain he had never seen before in his life - and he wasn't the only one, he was sure he hadn't met most of these people before. Although, he considered wryly as he watched Ginny and Molly standing slightly to the edge of the garden, it was possibly better than knowing some of them too well. He was still stunned that they'd come, Ginny especially, but then he wouldn't put it past her to try and stir up trouble, or perhaps she was just here to see everything blow up in his face? She never had gotten over what had happened last year.

Suddenly Harry squinted to get a better look at one of the figures standing at the far end of the garden. Surely that wasn't - ? Harry grinned as he recognised the form of Harald Burnes, he hadn't thought the old wizard would come; clearly he liked him more than he let on as according to the wizarding grapevine the last social event he had attended had been in the previous decade. The one person he had expected to see lurking amongst the potted shrubs, and was profoundly grateful that he couldn't, was Rita Skeeter. Evidently she hadn't managed to get past the heavy security that Hermione, ever cautious, had insisted upon. Either that or she was staying well away after he'd had a gagging order placed on her after Christmas so that he and Hermione could leave the house without being hounded, although he strongly suspected that it was the former.

“Looking for an escape route mate?” Ron came into the room, adjusting the collar of his dress robes, followed closely by Andromeda carrying a very sticky looking Teddy. A fact which she did not look overly pleased about.

“Not a chance - just wishing I could vanish half of these guests,” he smiled ruefully at them as Ron winced in sympathy.

“I feel for you mate I really do, but Hermione would kill me if I tried so…” he shrugged to indicate his hands were tied. “Besides this isn't nearly as many people as wanted to be here. It's Harry Potter's wedding day; everyone in the wizarding world wants an invite.”

“Well I'm sure they could have had the Dursley's if they wanted, they never did reply.”

At this Andromeda paused in trying to wipe Teddy's face with a cloth. “I never will understand why you invited them,” she had heard some of the stories from Hermione.

Harry merely shrugged and didn't answer but instead turned his attention to his godson who clearly was not happy about having his face washed. “What happened to the little man then?”

“He found the strawberry tarts I left in the kitchen - on the table mind - and decided to levitate them down and help himself. Little monkey.”

Harry struggled not to laugh, his godson was becoming such a handful - especially since he had learnt to walk - and was forever up to some mischief or other. “Here do you want me to do that, you can go and fix your hair,” he indicated the strands that had been pulled down from her careful bun by her grandson.

“Trying to keep yourself busy so you don't have to think about remembering your vows?” Ron grinned.

Harry finished wiping the red mess off Teddy's face then threw the cloth at Ron.

“Boys!” Andromeda turned around from the mirror sternly. “Mind your robes! Besides, what sort of example is that to set for this little one here?”

They both looked bashful and mumbled shame faced apologies before she laughed. “It's alright, he doesn't need you two to show him how to be badly behaved, he makes a fine enough job of that all on his own.” Teddy's hair turned golden blonde again as she looked at him sternly.

“Haaarreeeee,” he burbled happily reaching out his arms towards his godfather as though oblivious to the conversation around him.

With a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth Harry obliged, he never could resist his godson anything.

“Oi you lot!” George stuck his head round the door. “What's taking you so long? You having second thoughts Harry?”

“Not a chance.”

“Alright well hurry up they're ready for you now… oh and Harry,” he turned back as he was away to leave the room again, “don't go walking down the aisle with a baby mate. It's not a good look.”

“Right I better go and get this little one ready for his big role - ring bearer's a big responsibility. Good luck Harry,” Andromeda kissed him on the cheek as she took Teddy back before walking out of the room.

“You ready mate?” Ron looked at him questioningly as he had suddenly gone rather green.

“Yeah, I just…” Harry took a deep breath. “Yeah, c'mon lets go.” He strode quickly from the room - he was worried he might fall over if he stood still too long - and went down the stairs three at a time before arriving quickly in the back-garden of Andromeda's house.

The minute he stepped onto the grass most of the assembled guests turned to look at him and there were a few spatterings of applause as he felt himself go beet red. Taking another deep breath to steel himself and glancing across at Ron who nodded encouragingly he moved towards the seats set out in rows under the biggest white marquee he had ever seen. He'd much rather have gotten married on a quiet beach somewhere with just a few of their closest friends, but Hermione and her mother had insisted on doing this properly and who was he to argue with the bride?

“Good luck Harry,” Bill Weasley came over with his father and clapped him on the back with his free hand (the other was occupied in holding, a currently sleeping, baby Victoire who had been born two months previously.)

“It couldn't happen to a nicer couple,” his father agreed. “And you know Molly and I are both very happy for you don't you?” he looked at him earnestly.

“Of course Mr Weasley… and thanks both of you.” Molly was alright with the situation really, after that afternoon at the Burrow she hadn't spoken to either of them for a month but she'd eventually come round to the idea, if not wholly been reconciled to it. Deep down, Harry knew, she still would have rather he married Ginny. Forcing his mind away from the contentious issue of Ron's sister he focused on trying to make his way towards the front of the crowd, an effort complicated substantially by the fact that nearly everyone in the garden seemed to want to wish him luck. Eventually he managed to get there and after receiving one last, very Hermione-ish, tearstained hug from Mrs Granger he and Ron took their places facing everyone.

After that he wasn't really sure what happened. His brain seemed top disconnect slightly from his senses. He was aware that the minute he had stood in place the band had struck up the wedding march - trust Hermione to be on time - and his bride had appeared round the side of the house looking absolutely radiant in a dress made of some flowing fabric, which he felt vaguely sure was called chiffon - he probably had been told enough times - and a smile on her face that threatened to outshine the sun. It was probably something to do with the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off her, marvelling at how beautiful she looked, how lucky he was, and how he still couldn't believe that this was happening, that meant the ceremony itself passed in a bit of a blur.

Several hours later he was sitting in a chair near the edge of the marquee, with the band behind him playing a lively dance number, looking out at the star flecked sky and trying to relive the moment in his head. He could probably add it to the pensieve later, but this was something he wanted to carry around inside his head for the rest of his life.

“What are you thinking about?” The voice in his ear raised the hairs on the back of his neck as her breath tickled it pleasantly. Snaking his arm out he captured his new wife's waist and pulled her gently round to sit on his lap and could feel the delighted smile on her face as he kissed her.

“Just trying to work out how I managed to get so incredibly lucky,” he rested his chin on the top of her head as she leaned into him.

“Mmm… I've been wondering that myself.”

As the two of them sat there the music changed to a gentle waltz that Harry recognised, but he had no desire to move from where they currently sat, he wanted to stay this way for the rest of their lives.

“They played this at our engagement party,” Hermione mused quietly after a moment.

“Correct as usual Miss Granger,” he laughed as she swatted him playfully on the arm.

“It's Mrs Potter now,” twisting slightly she looked up at him, “Mrs Hermione Potter,” she repeated blissfully. After that there were more kisses which lasted for several minutes or possibly several days, Harry didn't know and didn't care.

“I'm really glad you asked me to marry you Harry,” she sighed contentedly as they broke apart.

He chuckled into her hair, “I'm glad I did too, even if it didn't exactly go as planned.”

“It was perfect anyway, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. You look so sweet when you get embarrassed.”

He smiled wryly. “You never did explain why you opened the present early though.”

“I…” Now she was the one embarrassed, “I thought you had gotten me a necklace, you know that one I had seen in the jewellers next to Flourish and Blotts? I was just going to rip the paper a tiny bit to see if it was in one of those lovely purple boxes, so that I would know if I was right,” they both grinned at this, “and then all the paper sort of came off and I thought I might as well open it since I couldn't pretend I hadn't. I'm just too impatient when it comes to mysteries.”

“It's one of the things I love about you.” She squeezed his hand affectionately as they lapsed back into a comfortable silence, each simply content to enjoy the moment. All too soon however it was broken by a childish giggle and the patter of feet on the dewy grass and Teddy came hurtling out of the gloom, his tiny robes flapping madly behind him, a piece of wedding cake clutched firmly in his tiny fist and an exhausted looking Ron and Luna chasing desperately along behind him.

“Haaaaarrrreeeeeeee!” He flung himself at Harry's leg as Hermione shifted to allow him space.

“Hi Tedster, what have you been getting up to?” Harry rescued the piece of cake from his hand which was flying dangerously close to Hermione's pristine dress while scooping his godson up onto his other knee.

“Here,” Hermione handed him a napkin from the little table next to them as Ron and Luna stopped short.

“Sorry mate, we did try and catch him he's just…”

“Very fast,” supplied Luna helpfully, and Harry noticed with a grin that she slipped an arm round Ron's waist as she did so.

“It's alright, he's more than welcome. Where's Andromeda?”

Ron nodded towards the dance floor, “Burnes asked her to dance… I didn't know he could.”

“Perhaps he petitioned the Keilidhin to give him the ability for the night,” Luna replied dreamily. Ron opened his mouth to ask her what that was and then seemed to decide better of it.

“Are you two enjoying yourselves?” Hermione asked smirking at them.

“Yes - the wedding is rather good, isn't it Ronald?” the blonde seemed oblivious to the subtle humour in Hermione's question, unlike her new boyfriend who, as he was wont to do, had gone scarlet and mumbled something unintelligible.

At this point Teddy decided that they weren't paying enough attention to him again so he immediately switched his hair to a violent purple and spread his arms wide as he looked up at Harry. “Daanz!”

“Here we'll take him,” Ron said as the all laughed, “and give you two lovebirds some peace.”

“No it's alright,” Harry smiled at his wife - it was still so strange and wonderful to think of her like that, “we'll take him.”

Hermione got up and took his hand as he lifted Teddy up with the other one and they made there way onto the dance floor with Ron's shout of “You need the practice” and Luna's subsequent reproach ringing in their ears.

“I'm glad everyone's having a good time,” Hermione observed as they found a spot to stop and dance slowly, with Teddy in Harry's arms between them.

“Well almost everyone,” Harry nodded towards a certain redhead standing on her own at the edge of the dance floor casting surly looks at them intermittently. He sighed, was Ginny ever going to accept the way things were now? Or was she going to spend the rest of her life being petty and vindictive about the way things had ended between them? He certainly hoped not.

“Just ignore her,” Hermione turned back to give him a radiant smile. “She's not worth it, besides we don't need her approval to be happy. She'll move on eventually.” Even as she spoke Harry saw John Vance walk up to Ginny and escort her onto the dance floor. Perhaps things might turn out alright after all?

Turning back to his little family Harry wondered for the millionth time - he also suspected it wouldn't be the last - how he had gotten so lucky. Hermione was smiling beatifically as she swayed in his arms and pretended to dance with Teddy as she held his tiny hand. Looking at the way his godson's tiny fingers curled around hers Harry suddenly came to a decision he had been pondering ever since Hermione had agreed to his proposal.

“I was thinking Daniel.”

Hermione looked up at him curiously. “What?”

Harry's eyes were earnest and steadfast as he repeated himself. “I was thinking Daniel, or Hope if it's a girl. For our first baby.”

Hermione looked at him for one long endless moment as tears filled her eyes and then she leant past Teddy to kiss him softly on the cheek. “That's perfect.”

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