I'll Never Change

“Hermione, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the mall tomorrow,” Olivia started as she painted her nails on the bed.

Hermione nodded her head. She didn't actually want to go. There was nothing on her list of required items and therefore she would stay put at home. Hermione despised the mall and all of the people that it entertained. They had no clue as to what had been going on around them just months ago.

She turned to her sister and scowled.

“Mum's told you plenty of times not to polish your nails on the comforter. Don't you remember how it got ruined last time?”

Her sister moved her leg off of the table and onto the side table. Olivia just loved to tease her. But this time she didn't fight back against it. And after almost an hour of trying to get under her skin, Olivia too had noticed this.

“Herms, what's wrong?” Olivia asked.

Hermione shushed her. She was hearing bits and pieces of a conversation being held by her parents. She could tell she didn't like what they were talking about. Her grandmother, Violet Granger had arrived a few days ago. She had been listening in on their conversations.

Violet Granger had been in poor health. She would not have come today had it not been in dire circumstances. Hermione didn't consider this the most pressing of all situations. However, it was to her parents. She didn't see this because she had saved their lives.

“I don't know, but I've heard the words, `magic' and `Hermione'. I would know the rest if you would shut up,” Hermione hissed at her sister.

“I'm sorry,” Olivia muttered.

She lightly crossed the room as she turned off their bedroom clock. It made this loud ticking noise, and a few moments later they were in utter silence.

Hermione sent her a brief smile of thanks before she worked on the current situation. It was to no avail. She could still not hear what they were saying, and if possible their voices dropped again.

“Isn't there some spell you can do?”

“No,” Hermione said furrowing her brow. “I left my wand with Harry, I think. I still haven't had time to get it back.”

“Well, we might as well do it the old-fashioned way,” Olivia said. “Come on.”

Harry sat with his stethoscope over his shoulders. He was about to begin another hard night at work. He had not expected to be on call tonight. He had a date with Ginny, which of course was now cancelled.

He had promised Neville that he would fill in. And now he was doing just as he had promised.

The wizarding world promised careers that muggles couldn't begin to dream about. He had received offers for just about every one of them. But he had shot most of them down. Even his first choice of Auror.

He wanted away from the spotlight. And way from the reporters, but these days it didn't seem to be working. He had recently returned from Australia. It had taken Hermione two years to work up the courage to restore the memories of her family members.

At first it was the fear of his return. And after that it was the guilt of how they would feel. Now, Hermione was at home dealing with that. How, he did not know. He hoped she was feeling better than he was.

He grabbed the file on the call desk, and began to walk to wherever his patient was. The halls of St. Mungo's were so confusing. He had heard from a few it could take years before he understood how to get around.

He stared down at the name on the file: Margaret Benson. He secretly wondered if this was another woman with no injury. It was sad but true. Many had turned up just to get a chance to view Harry Potter up-close and personal. Some hoped to get diagnosed with something so they cold get a prescription written up with an added incentive of his signature.

Harry shivered at the memory of such an occasion. He had arrived at her destination and saw the purple splotches covering her skin. This was definitely not a hoax. Neville had treated this a dozen times over. He identified it quickly and sent an assistant to get the needed medication.

“I thought I might find you here,” Ron said. “I was wondering how Hermione's been doing. I haven't heard from her ever since Australia.”

“Ron, you're not supposed to be up here,” Harry muttered. He closed the curtains leaving the woman in privacy as she continued to scratch the splotches. “You can catch one of these contagious diseases.”

“Another Healer already beat you to it,” Ron said with a slight grin.

Harry however was serious. He hated working on this level himself. He ran the risk of coming out with a vanishing illness or something worse. It didn't sound terrible, but indeed it was.

“Hermione has asked me to leave her alone. And until she says otherwise I don't intend to do so. Has her position on Molly's clock changed?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ron said sheepishly. “ I just wanted to see her.”

“Ron she hasn't seen her family in two years. I believe she's entitled to that time by herself,” Harry finished.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Ron finished.

“But, hey, I bet her family's driving her crazy by now. Why don't you check in on her?”

“You think?” Ron asked. “I get the feeling sometimes that her parents don't like me.”

“They're just very protective of their daughter. I would be too I guess. It would be better if you waited until the morning though.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “I think I'll get something special for her.”

Harry nodded as he went back to work. Sometimes he wished he had Ron's problem. The only thing that stood between their relationship was her parents. They could be difficult at times but he knew they cared.

But Harry couldn't hide from himself. He knew that a change in careers probably wouldn't make a difference in his relationship. He would probably always be too busy for her. It was fighting the inevitable.

The space between the wall and the banister was so minimal. So for the two girls there was no way to sit in the space comfortably. The main objective was not to be seen. And on the bright side, they could now hear what was going on downstairs.

A lot of arguing was going on.

“Margaret, there is not another way. Mother agrees with me,” Paul concluded.

It was obvious they had arrived towards the end of the conversation.

“Paul, it's just not right. She's our daughter, and we've always promised to give our children what they wanted. Do you remember how much she begged us to let her study at Hogwarts?” Margaret pleaded with her husband.

“Of course I remember. I have taken that into consideration, but there are more important things to think about.”

“And I too know that. We can't just ostracize her from the family.”

The words hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. She held back a gasp, her fury rising. This is what those two years had led to. Silence had taken over the room and tears began in her eyes.

“Hermione, they can't do that,” Olivia whispered. “I promise I won't let them, or I'll leave too.”

Hermione waved her sister off. She had made the decision years ago, and backed it up with recent decisions. It was known the clashing of the two worlds. They did not coexist peacefully.

“I love my daughter, I honestly do, but this comes down to what we are willing to face. She is capable of anything, but if another dark wizard takes a hit on the family there is no protecting us. There is no other way.”

On one side, it was totally selfish. Her parents had never feared anything. But they didn't belong to the wizarding world. They would never understand Aurors or The Order of the Phoenix or anything else she knew.

In a way she just expected them to.

She stood up from her corner in the wall she had molded too. She felt bruises forming from squeezing so tight into. She limped towards the room she shared with her sister. Olivia still stood rooted to the spot.

-->

Harry wiped his weary eyes. Everyone had decided to come down with some form of a contagious disease. It was especially hard when such cases arrived that he couldn't solve. He was grateful that he hadn't splinched himself apparating to Grimmauld Place.

Two years had been more than enough time to restore it to its former glory. All dark materials were gotten rid of appropriately except for that in the library. Hermione might want to use them for education purposes so he kept them.

He once again put his files in his study. He proceeded to the kitchen, his stomach grumbling.

“Kreacher is there any more of that chicken soup?” asked Harry.

He received no response. Kreacher must be sleeping in his room. Harry would use this as an excuse to cook himself a meal. He missed it. That was one of the only useful skills that the Dursley's had given him. That and the ability to keep an excellent garden.

He made his way into the kitchen making himself a roast beef sandwich. Before he could have his first bite Ginny popped into the kitchen. He was very much surprised. Harry raised his right hand to look at his watch. Yes, it was four in the morning. What was she doing here?

“What are you doing here? Your mum is going to kill me if she finds out you're here,” said Harry.

“I just wanted to talk to you. I've been at home watching the clock and it finally moved to home. You should lighten up a bit Harry, mum doesn't check rooms like she used to.”

“Yeah, that's what you think,” said Harry.

He was honestly terrified of Mrs. Weasley. Soon after he and Ginny resumed their relationship he had tried to move into Grimmauld with him. He had never consented to this. Living with her didn't feel right. He pawned it off as being too soon for such a step. But Mrs. Weasley would have none of it. In fact she forbade her daughter to do so. That included late night visits such as these.

“Want a sandwich?”

“It's not healthy to eat this late,” she finished.

Harry shrugged it off. He didn't want advice on what he should be doing with his life either. He motioned for her to follow him. They walked down a few hallways a few twists and turns along the way until they came to his study.

Ginny had never been in here. He liked his peace and quiet. She offered that rarely.

“So how was work?” asked Ginny.

“Fine, just fine,” concluded Harry.

But that didn't begin to describe it. Harry wanted to come home and forget what happened at work. Instead he stared at a carefully selected spot on the wall and tore into his sandwich. Somewhere in the middle of this he took out a pen and wrote out a small `To Do List'.

“Harry, why don't you talk to me?” asked Ginny.

Harry's concentration for once left the spot. How much time had passed?

“We talk a lot,” Harry defended. “This is us talking right now.”

He thought it a satisfactory answer. According to Ginny it wasn't. She just heaved a frustrated sigh.

“Last night was supposed to be us. No talking on your cell phone, and no floos from the Ministry, or Ron, or anyone else. We were supposed to sit on the couch and do something together. I want to be a normal couple, and do things couples do. I can count the number of times we've been out since we started this relationship again.”

“And it was whatever you're talking about. I got called off for work.”

“Lately, it's like all time we spend together work is determined to get between us. There's this serious lack of communication between us, and it needs to be fixed.”

“There's no lack of communication…” said Harry.

They were fine. She talked he listened and responded. Harry honestly cared about every word that came out of her mouth. When he spoke she too listened. And to him that was communication.

“Gin we've both been up all night. Why don't we wait until morning to straighten this out? I want nothing said that either of us will regret later.”

“No Harry, I want it said tonight. It all needs to be out in the open.”

“What do you want from me? I communicate the best I know how with you. I don't heave you because I want to, or because I find it hard to talk to you. Gin, you are fun t be around and make me forget the world.”

And that was honest. She did. ? And he loved that about her.

“Thank you,” said Ginny. Her face radiated from the compliment.

“But,” Harry started,” While that is true Healing is my chosen profession. I don't have set hours like you do with Quidditch. I won't be able to attend all of your games. We just finished Hogwarts and most of my friends are focusing on their careers.”

“What are you saying?” asked Ginny. Her eyes narrowed.

“My career comes first, and you come right after that.”

She wanted communication and she got it. Relationships did not last forever, and he never wanted to depend on his parent's money. He had to earn a living and that was something she could never change about him. She had to accept it.

“You're right,” said Ginny. “We should have waited until morning.”

Olivia sighed. Her sister had not spoken a word in the fifteen minutes they had been awake. Instead she was straightening up around the already tidy room. Olivia wasn't stupid. Se had heard her sister crying through the might. It must be very though on her. Hermione walked out of the room the door slamming violently behind her.

She quickly walked out after her and down the stairs. She could smell coffee brewing and French toast on the stove sizzling away. Olivia loved her mother's cooking.

“Did I hear the slamming of a door upstairs?” asked Margaret.

“Yes,” said Olivia. She didn't want Hermione to have the chance to say something. “It'll never happen again.”

“No it won't,” she agreed. “Can someone please set the table? Your father should be down soon.”

Once again Olivia took the lead. She wanted to stop her sister's apparent meltdown. Margaret Granger was oblivious. She was busy chopping fruit for a salad. It was only worse that she bore no hints of last night's conversation.

“It does smell good in here this morning,” Paul Granger supplied in greeting. “I need something to fill me up before work.”

He pecked his wife on the cheek. Everything appeared to be normal, but it wasn't. Olivia hated when everyone kept secrets. You could feel it in the air.

Hermione knew Olivia was trying, but that didn't help. They acted as if it never happened.

“Dear, are you coming t the office to help out today?”

“I'm working on an article for The Daily Prophet. They really are making strides, trying to add information that a wizard would actually want to know.”

She shifted looking between their parents. They grew uncomfortable in their seats. A series of glances were exchanged between the two. She still despised the Daily Prophet. It was a lie, there was no article.

“Are you alright dad?”

“Hermione, we've thought about this long and hard. If it took you two years to talk to us, and to bring us back, that speaks for itself,” said Paul.

“And for this reason we are giving you until the end of the year to make a decision. It's either us or the wizarding world.”

Hermione gasped. A little bit over five weeks to make a life changing decision? She could imagine it. Five days after Christmas prompting for her decision.

“And what if,” Hermione paused. “What if I refuse to make a decision? What then?”

“By making no decision you choose them. Hopefully it won't take that long. The family's coming in from the States. I would prefer not to have a stressful holiday,” her father finished.

Hermione scoffed.

“You don't want a stressful holiday? I don't want to have to make this decision,” yelled Hermione.

“Don't take that tone with your father,” her mother firmly stated.

“You're preparing to kick me out. And throwing the rest of the family in my face in the process. When did I become a `them' instead of your daughter?”

She felt her voice breaking. They couldn't do this to her. She wouldn't allow them to. Hermione was prepared to root herself to the carpet and throw a tantrum. She had not done so in years.

“Hermione, you are very much a part of this family. I have tried to reason with your side.”

“Mum, when you want something, you don't stop until you get it,” said Hermione.

She grabbed the napkin off of her table to dab her eyes. Hermione could feel the tears leaking. She never thought her parents could cause such heart wrenching pain. Where was she supposed to go for comfort?

“I loved you enough to send you away despite what it would do. Everyone knows how torn I was about the situation. I thought about the family every second, but it was for the best. Voldemort would have found you and killed you. And yet you don't love me enough to forgive me?”

“I do,” Olivia piped up.

“You put this safety above your happiness. And that's all we're trying to do. It really benefits both of you girls. One day when you have children of your own you'll understand. Who knows, you may not want magic for them.”

“I would never,” said Hermione.

Her voice was hoarse. She could barely talk, her throat felt clogged. Thankfully her sister stepped in for her.

“Why don't you two go to work?” said Olivia. She stepped over towards Hermione and led her out of the kitchen. Once in the living room Olivia helped her onto the couch and hugged her.

Hermione clutched onto her for dear life. Once the tears started there was no stopping him. She wanted to just leave now. They disgusted her. But Hermione didn't want to be the one to cause a rift in the family. Her grandmother old and fragile had always wanted love to remain in the family.

“They're gone now,” said Olivia.

Hermione nodded. She suddenly felt cold as she dug deeper into the couch. Unfortunately as she did the doorbell rang.

“Don't worry I'll go get it,” said Olivia.

She ran to the door as it reached its third ring. Hermione craned her head upward to see a flash of bright red hair at the door. It could only belong to one person.

“Hermione, it's Ron. He's brought flowers,” said Olivia in a sing-song voice.

“Go away,” yelled Hermione.

Deep down she knew that it was not his fault. She did not feel like seeing him right now. He was always happy, and she did not want to be right now. She just wanted to lie here on the couch in self pity. She had told Harry not to do this countless times, but she never would again. Sometimes it was absolutely necessary.

“Hermione, are you this rude to all your boyfriends?” asked Olivia.

“Stop trying to make me feel better,” Hermione said as she waved her hand.

As she waved her hand a pillow threw itself at the door until it was almost closed. Ron had tried to stick his foot in the doorway to stop it. Instead Olivia walked back up and yanked it open.

“Your aim's off Hermione. It hit the door.”

“It wasn't intended for the door. Ron just please go away.”

-->

Harry threw the ball as hard as he could. It still hadn't hit the black target. Ron had asked Harry to show him a typical muggle fair. It so happened, that one was going on. He had nothing better to do. He had taken all the time hoe could. The woman who had once scheduled the hours had told him to go home. Everyone knew St.Mungo's was short on help these days. For her to say that, he must have been pushing it.

“Are you mad at the target or something?” Ron asked.

“I'm mad at myself. It helps sometimes,” said Harry.

He paid the woman her money and collected the next set of balls. Ron took one from him and attempted too. He didn't feel better at all.

“I don't know but it's not helping. What do you think I did wrong?”

“You left,” said Harry. “You shouldn't have.”

“But that girl told me to leave. I can't intrude on someone's property like that. She looked freakishly like Hermione though.”

“That's Hermione's older sister Olivia,” said Harry.

They began walking around the park. They brushed past several people before they arrived at a bench.

“Harry, why didn't I know she had an older sister?”

“You've never asked. We've never really asked her questions about her life at home. I only know because of that summer I spent at her house.”

Ron nodded. He remembered that time. He had been slightly jealous that his two friends would be spending time together without him. He feared a relationship between the two would develop and he would be left out. Luckily it hadn't. But still Harry knew more about her than he did.

“But back to the original question. Why wouldn't I leave her house?”

“Ron, you said she was obviously crying in the background. I would want to know what had caused it. She's usually rational about things. Even if she was upset most likely she would keep it to herself,” said Harry in a frustrated tone

Here he was near the end of his rope with Ginny, and still giving Ron relationship advice.

“But I got her flowers. Mum says every girls like flowers,” said Ron.

“Every girl is different. And we can wish as hard as we want to. Flowers will not fix any relationship problems. People do.”

Ron seemed to be contemplating this thought. After a minute or two to digest it he turned his attention to Harry.

“I thought you said these fairs were fun,” said Ron.

“They are. I just don't feel like celebrating anything.”

“What did Ginny do?”

“Ginny didn't do anything. It was me that said something stupid.”

“I've lived with her for longer than I'd like to admit. Tell me and I'll help you fix it.”

“Ginny came over last night talking about how we don't communicate enough. She wanted me to talk, and so I did. Of course I exploded and told her that she wouldn't be number one in my life, at least not now.”

Ron sighed.

“You really shouldn't have done that.”

“I've figured that Ron. After I said that she had this vengeful look on her face. Sometimes I think I should just shut my mouth, and let her do all the talking.”

“No, Harry, she's just funny like that. Do the math. She's the only girl that mum has, so of course she's spoiled. Besides that mum always puts her kids first. She's not going to want to hear what you told her.”

It made perfect sense. That was how she felt.

“I'm not apologizing,” said Harry finally. He did not dare to look at Ron's facial expression. “I love Ginny, but I don't regret what I said. I refuse to lie. I'm not going to drop everything to be with her.”

“I never said that you did. I'm just asking you to see it through her eyes.”

“And I do. I just hope it doesn't end our relationship.”

Hermione had never though she would use household spells. She was ever thankful that Tonks had taught her briefly before she died. Her clothes animatedly flying from the drawers and folding themselves neatly into several suitcases.

“Olivia I am not reconsidering. If I'm going to make a decision, it can't be in this house. It has to be somewhere neutral.”

“Neutral? You're probably going to over to Harry's house. That is nowhere near neutral. He practices magic you know.”

“Olivia, Harry is not like that. He grew up in the muggle world. Sure he practices magic, but he would not pressure me into a decision. It's only a matter of time before they start.”

“There's nothing tying you here. There is no leverage.”

“Olivia my entire family lives her. That is more than enough. I just feel sorry for grandmother.”

“Why? Do you think something's up?”

“Her mental health is what it used to be. She's still as sweet as ever, but I'm convinced that they've tried to convince her.”

“I don't think they would,” said Olivia. “You're thinking irrationally. Would you just stay her with me? Please. I need someone to distract me from your school work.”

“No. The last thing you need is a distraction. Finish college and become the lawyer you've always wanted to be.”

“Hermione stop worrying about books for a minute,” Olivia admonished.

“I just don't want to be a bother to anyone,” concluded Hermione. “I want you to call me, if anything should go wrong.”

Olivia looked as if she were about to fight her sister a bit longer. She was worn however. Soon after Hermione had ceased crying she assumed a determined stance. As promised soon after her grandmother had woken she was prepared the breakfast of her choice. The sisters had spent time together and enjoyed it.

Soon after Olivia had changed out of her pajamas she was shocked to find her sister packing her bags away with magic. She held back her comment about how cool it looked.

“You don't look too good,” Olivia pointed out.

“I'm not too good at wandless magic. Harry doesn't even have to use his wand.”

Olivia nodded.

“Can I ask one question before you go?”

“Sure, I doubt I'll be gone for a while. I've never realized how many things I actually have.”

Olivia held up her hand prompting Hermione to stop talking.

“You're going to live with Harry.”

“Yes…” said Hermione. From that statement she worried about her sister.

She had already told Olivia that she was going to Grimmauld Place.

“You're living with Harry. And yet you kick your boyfriend out.”

“Harry and Ron are completely different. Harry would understand. Ron I'm not exactly sure how he would react.”

“You have feelings for Harry.”

“I do not,” said Hermione

She shot back those words immediately.

“In every conversation we seem to have Harry seems to be the star. I'm just wondering if perhaps you have feelings for him. It would be perfectly understandable. He is quite the looker.”

“Olivia,” shouted Hermione.

“Hermione,” said Olivia standing her ground

Her arms were folded across her chest.

“I admit Harry is a sweet person, and he's not bad looking. But Harry and I are just friends. Besides if even a fraction of me wanted him, why would I be dating Ron?”

“You're not really,” answered Olivia. “He never comes over to the house. I've never seen the two of you kiss. And I've never heard a recount of any of the dates you've been on.”

“Olivia I'm not like you. I don't feel as if every aspect of my relationship with Ron has to be shared with you.”

The truth was there were no memorable dates. The few she had been on had turned out disastrous. His disgusting eating habits irked her, and she would never dine at a restaurant with him again. The movies had been horrible as he talked through them wondering why magic couldn't solve all the problems. If neither of those occurred he always managed to fish out comments that made her want to tear her hair out.

“So you've come to apologize?” asked Ginny.

She stood on the other side of her bedroom door. She was dressed in her robe and curlers still in her hair. Despite Ron's protest to let everything lie as it was, he ventured towards her room. He had been in there quite a few times in here.

Harry didn't know what the outcome of this conversation would be. He silently prayed for a good outcome. Ginny was excellent at guilt, and her stare was not helping him at all.

“No, but I wanted to talk.”

Harry could see the disappointment wipe across her face, but nonetheless she held the door open for him to step in.

“What more do you have to say?”

“Plenty,” said Harry.

He tried a light grin but she wouldn't smile. She sat down on her bed and stared up at him waiting for whatever he had to say. He was speechless. Maybe Ron was right. Maybe he should think before he talked to her. Last time spontaneity had not worked in his favor.

“Well…...” asked Ginny.

“Gin, you're very important in my life. As I said you'll never be my number one priority. There are other things that we have to think about in our lives besides our relationship. I still want to continue dating you.”

“And you are important in my life, Harry. That's why I've thought about it.”

Harry grinned.

“And what did you decide?”

“I think this is the end of our relationship.”

Ginny was breaking up with him? He didn't understand. It was a brief fight that had started two days ago. Had this led to the end?

“What are you talking about?”

“It's over, Harry. We've been trying to fight it forever. There's no use. We just couldn't make it work.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I've been trying as hard as I can.”

“And you shouldn't have to. I know I've damn well tried to hold on to you. But I can't take this.”

“If it's about all those other women that keep on bothering you…”

“It's not about that. I can handle them,” interrupted Ginny. “My mum gave me tough skin, but I will never be as book smart as Hermione. I deserve respect, and I'd honestly prefer if your attention was on me. I think it's just time to let go.”

“Hermione shouldn't be a factor in our relationship.”

“You're right she shouldn't,” said Ginny. “But I can never change the fact that she is. I'm not that upset about it, so don't worry.”

“You know that I will,” sighed Harry. “Are we still friends?”

“I have no idea,” said Ginny. “We can try though.”

Harry was a bit relieved, but a part of him still bothered. She had joined those that believed that he and Hermione had a secret attraction. There was nothing wrong with Hermione. In fact she had some endearing qualities

Endearing?

And here was where the guilt came in.

Maybe he did have feelings for Hermione.

The minute the sentence entered his mind, he groaned.

-->

When Harry arrived home he was soon informed that Hermione was at the house. He had not seen her in quite a while and was anxious to find out how she was doing. For now he would put questions of his feelings for Hermione out of his head.

It was Ginny's fault he determined. If she ended the relationship she had to put the blame somewhere, and he doubted Hermione would destroy it. Hermione was in her own relationship with their best friend Ron. It had taken a while for them to get together, and now that they were he didn't see her ruining it.

On his way upstairs he thought about informing Ron that she was here, but thought against it. She might be tired, and busy unpacking. When he reached upstairs that was exactly what he found her doing.

“Long time, no see,” Harry said. He propped himself against the frame as Hermione looked up at him with a light smile from her spot on the floor. She raised a finger to her lips motioning for him to be quiet for a moment. Shortly after he realized that she was on the phone with her sister Olivia.

“Tell Olivia I said hi.”

She nodded, and opened her hands pointing to a box across the room. Harry crossed the room and picked up the blue box labeled `Clothes' in her curvy handwriting. He listened to the one sided conversation and managed to get nothing from it before she hung up the phone and started going through the box.

“So how is your sister?”

“She's doing fine,” said Hermione a bit evasively.

“Did you find your wand alright?”

“Yep, in the middle drawer in the study just like you promised,” said Hermione. She tapped the clothes so that they began to fold themselves away. “You might as well take your opportunity to gloat.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Harry.

She pushed a stray piece of hair behind her head, and continued look down into the big box of items she owned.

“You were right, and I should have listened. I don't know what gives me the idea that I know best, but I don't,” said Hermione. “My parents they just don't understand me like they used to. And they have turned against the wizarding world.”

“They're going to need some time to readjust to having their lives back. You didn't mess up the memory charm did you?”

Hermione shivered at the thought. Lockhart was still in the ward at St. Mungo's. It was possible that he would never recover from the memory charm that had addled his brain.

“No, their memories are as good as ever. That's why I'm here. Harry, they're making me choose, and it could be the hardest choice that I ever have to make in my life. I just, I need you to be there for me right now.”

Hermione had no idea when he had come closer to her. But there he was hugging her with everything he had, and she hugged back. She needed his friendship which she had missed out on all these months.

Leaving him…leaving all the friends she'd made here was a big mistake. And she wasn't prepared to give it up for the rest of her life.

Hermione separated herself from him. And she realized that she was crying. For years she had stood as this unmovable rock and it seemed as if everyday, she was crying. Yes, what her parents were putting her through was emotional, but this was just ridiculous.

Harry passed her a tissue, which she took gratefully. She dabbed under her eyes as she looked at him with the other.

“I have no idea what's wrong with me,” said Hermione. “I've been doing this nonstop.

“There is nothing wrong with you. At least, there's nothing wrong with showing emotion.”

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She ignored his sorry attempt at a joke.

“But if I know your sister, she isn't standing for this and neither are you.”

Hermione nodded.

“I would understand if you decided to give up magic. I would miss you, but your family is very important to you. They were around before you discovered that you where a witch. Your family should be your number one priority.”

“Harry, both sides are important to me. I would miss all of the friends that I've made here. And I couldn't bear the thought of not being able to see any of you again. Once magic is given up there is no way to reclaim it.”

“It's not giving it up. It's just refusing to use it.”

“How could you do something like that? How could you not be selfish about it?” asked Hermione.

“That's easy. You're my best friend, and I want for you to be happy. And if that's with your family then, I'll just have to accept it.”

“But Harry, you are a part of my family.”

One summer Harry had visited her home instead of going to the Burrow. He had enjoyed himself immensely and gotten to know a side of her that not many people knew. Not many where interested and her parents tended to have a strict side. Hermione however, was surprised when her parents had approved him as a part of the family.

Harry would always be a part of her family. And Ron would be a part of her heart. Two totally different matters, and she admitted that Harry possibly held a higher position. She was digging herself a hole with that admission. Both in her thoughts and as she uttered the words out loud.

Maybe Olivia did have an idea of which world she would choose, but Hermione did not. And that's the only opinion that really mattered. Hermione would surely depend on her sisters' confession that she would stick by her either way.

And then she heard a loud rap on the door. Neither of them knew it until now, but there had definitely been a moment between the two of them. And now it was disturbed, and Hermione silently cursed whoever was at the door. The horrible feelings she had experienced before were beginning to creep up on her.

Harry got up from his spot next to Hermione and opened the door. On the opposite side Hermione saw Ron's face. He looked a bit tired, but he also appeared to be pissed off.

“Hello to you too Hermione,” fumed Ron. “When were you planning on informing me of your return to the wizarding world?”

“I was going to call you in the morning. How did you know that I was here?”

She stood up from her spot on the floor. Brushing off whatever dust there might be, although she predicted none. Her arms folded across her chest subconsciously as if protecting herself from a blow.

“Mum's clock.”

“I need to write Molly a note. It's like an invasion of privacy,” muttered Harry.

He motioned to come between the two of his friends, but thought against it. He should let them solve their own battles. He would come in between them if absolutely necessary.

“Yes, that is absolutely true. I don't need you checking up on me every minute of the day.”

Harry groaned. He did not intend to get involved in another one of their on going battles. They had not been in the same room five minutes without a fight brewing between the two of them. Well, actually Ron came to instigate it.

“I wouldn't have to if you would talk to me.”

“Ron a civilized conversation is not barging into my room. No, “How are you feeling?” or “Can I do something for you? But you would still expect for me to consider how you feel.”

“Hermione I'm trying to make this relationship work. That's all that I can promise you, and I'm doing the best that I can.”

“Ronald, I bet that if you gave our relationship half the effort you gave Quidditch we'd be married by now.”

“The same can be said of books and physical intimacy.”

Hermione's face flushed red, and so did the tips of Harry's ears. He had not expected to hear that from either of them. Harry wanted to stay far away from any aspect of their relationship. Hermione too was embarrassed that he had to mention that especially in front of Harry.

She took off down a flight of stairs. Slamming the door behind him.

“What the hell was that?” asked a furious Harry after he knew Hermione was gone.

“I messed up didn't I?”

“No, you messed up a long time ago. That a few minutes ago was just….I can't even describe it.”

“How is it that I always manage to say the wrong things to her?”

“Because you just can't sit down and listen to what she has to say. If you listened to a word, then you'd know what's going on. You'd know that the crap you just pulled wasn't the smartest thing to do.”

“Look, I've already got enough to deal with. I need someone on my side.”

“Ron, I am not the enemy, and I am not giving you any more advice. If you want to know what's wrong with Hermione I suggest that you ask her yourself. I am not getting in the middle of this.”

Harry opened the door to the room before he looked at Ron with a final glare hoping he would get the message.

“Miss Hermione, please stop crying. Kreacher made soup. Kreacher will be mad if Miss Hermione does not eat soup and….and…”

“I'll eat the soup Kreacher,” snapped Hermione.

Harry made his way downstairs. Hermione noticed as she ran her spoon through her soup that he had changed his clothes to ones that he could wear to sleep. Hermione looked back down at her soup. It looked absolutely delicious but she couldn't find space in her stomach to put it.

In her mind she knew that she hadn't even had a proper breakfast. But it was as if her heart had plummeted managing to fill both spaces.

“It's not his fault, you know,” sighed Hermione as she laid down her fork.

She had given up her futile efforts to feed herself and passed it across to Harry. He accepted it and started eating.

“Well it's definitely not your fault,” concluded Harry.

“Why isn't it my fault? I mean Ron…”

“…Doesn't understand your situation,” Harry finished looking her in the eye.

“That's not what I meant Harry, and you know it. What if my relationship with Ron is in shambles? I don't want that to happen to us.”

“I'll tell you what I told Ron. I am not getting involved in your relationship, and I am not telling you what to do about your parents.”

“Do you think I should tell Ron?”

“Yes, I do think you should tell him. Although I cannot tell you how he would react to that information.”

Hermione was frustrated. Wasn't impartiality what she wanted? And Harry was giving her exactly what she had asked for. There. She was stuck, and she would have to make her own decision.

-->

She was moody. That was the only way to describe it. She went from sad, to pissed in seconds flat. And she owed no one and explanation. That she had firmly decided upon. Not too long after Hermione had sat down at the dining room table with Harry, she journeyed back up the stairs to have a talk with Ronald.

At least she hoped she could. Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if he left, but he was still there.

“I've come to a decision,” stated Ron.

He had uttered this the moment she had come through the door, but she shook her head. She was not going to hear whatever he wanted to say. He could go ahead and say that she wasn't listening to him. She was determined to be heard first, so there were no misunderstandings.

“No Ron. Sit down and shut up until I'm done.”

And he did. Maybe it was the look, that indicated no nonsense, but she did not ponder it too long as she had gained his attention.

“I have been back for a matter of hours. And within those hours you burst into my room demanding to know why I did not call you the second I reached. I am an adult and I don't even let my own parents dictate what I will and will not. Do you get that?”

Ron nodded. She put up her hand acknowledging that she was not yet finished.

“Now I am apologizing for kicking you out of my house the way I did before. It wasn't right to punish you for how I was feeling at the moment. But that's it the rest of it I'm not sorry for.”

She noticed that he had raised an eyebrow. Ron had a temper and she had one too, and she was provoking it at the moment. He had to be right, and if he wasn't, then surely she must be the one that was wrong.

“You're never sorry for anything. All you've ever done in this relationship is reprimand me for everything I do.

“That you've brought on yourself,” spat Hermione. “Perfect example: bringing up our relationship in front of Harry. But who cares right? Because when you want a snog you want a snog.”

“Finally you get it,” said Ron.

Hermione just looked at him. How dumb could he be? Sure he had improved a bit, but still maintained that old Ron mentality.

“What I get is that you still haven't grown up at all. You're still caught up in the hall of Hogwarts. Do you remember when you used to snog Lavender, and didn't care who sees. I stupidly envied that. I wanted it so bad.”

“And we can still have that.”

“But it's so juvenile Ron,” pleaded Hermione. “A physical relationship doesn't solve anything. In fact I think it causes problems. Do you know anything about Lavender?”

Silence had taken over their conversation. His fingers were raised under his chin as he contemplated everything. He began sentences that he never finished. Color. Family.

Nothing. He could remember nothing about her at all.

“My parents, they are prepared to kick me out of the house. They don't believe that I should practice magic anymore. My parents believe it doesn't benefit the safety of the family.”

“That's stupid magic has never hurt anyone. Of course your going to stay here with me and continue our relationship. Right?”

She was shocked. He had not heard a word she had said. It was useless trying to get through to him she discovered. Hermione stopped and simply pointed to the door. He was an idiot. And she was obviously an idiot for believing that she could ever change him.

Hermione peaked out from behind her book. It had been three days since her visit with Ron, as she sat at the Burrow. She was not visiting to speak with him, but to see Ginny. And to also talk to Mrs. Weasley about removing her name from the family clock.

She appreciated the sentiment, but did not needing constant watching. She already had enough people doing that.

When she arrived Ginny had not been there. She had went to the bookstore and would be back `soon'. Soon had been roughly an hour and a half, longer than she cared to stay, but Mrs. Weasley had insisted.

“Hermione, I'll be back in a minute,” Ginny said as she entered the door. True to her word she had a pile of books in her arms that she needed. She was confused. Ginny had never expressed a true need for books in her life.

Mrs. Weasley must have noticed her look.

“I told that girl that she should have something to fall back on. In Quidditch, you're only as good as your last game. Any minute that injury can come that forces you into early retirement. She's studying to be a healer.”

“Wow,” said Hermione. “I never would have thought.”

“So how is Harry coping?”

“Coping?” asked Hermione.

“You haven't heard? Harry and Ginny have broken up. My greatest fear, is that it's for good.”

“I'm sure that he's coping just fine,” said Hermione.

Although she knew about the breakup she had no inclination that he was hung up over it. Just the other night they sat on the couch watching movies. They hadn't done it in a while, and they hadn't really watched the movie. Harry and Hermione had just talked, and it felt good.

Ginny had come back into the kitchen and took a seat next to Hermione.

“I just went out to make mum happy,” whispered Ginny. “I'm not actually going into medicine. Blood makes me a bit squeamish.”

“You are aware that not everything has to do with blood in medicine. There are plenty of other things that you can do at the Ministry. They are just in desperate need of volunteers.”

“And where did you find this out?”

“Harry and I were talking about it. I'm thinking about finding a job. The past two days I've watched Harry go off to work and I've found nothing to do around the house.”

“Poor you,” Ginny said.

Mrs. Weasley said goodbye to the girls as she left the kitchen. Ginny watched her mother leave out of the corner of her eye. Once she did she shifted over to the real reason she had called Hermione over.

“You're living with Harry?” shrieked Ginny.

“I have no idea why everyone's making such a big deal about this. My parents are freaking out about it, according to my sister, and everyone is just…it's just Harry.”

“Nothing's ever just Harry,” said Ginny. “So how is it?”

“It's been pretty low key. Not much to tell. I wake up in the morning before he leaves for work. I do nothing all day and eventually he comes back.”

“And he's told you nothing about our break up?”

Hermione looked at her suspiciously.

“If I stay out of his relationships then he stays out of mine.”

“And don't you think that moving in with Harry is a bad idea. You must know how Ron would feel about…” said Ginny before she was interrupted.

“Ginny you are one of my best friends, but Ron doesn't need you to fight his battles for him. I am nineteen years old, and we're not playing a tug of war. I am my own person. If I decide that I want to live with Harry, Ron just has to accept that and stop complaining.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” muttered Ginny.

Hermione's gaze softened.

“I'm sorry, Ginny. Harry's just different. He actually will listen to what I have to say. And sometimes he thinks before he speaks. Ron on the other hand thrives on impulse. I have never met someone as outspoken as him. But that's a good thing. I don't want anyone holding back what they have to say.”

“You're scared.”

“Of course I'm scared about the decision I have to make. Have I told you about that yet?”

“You just did,” said Ginny.

Hermione raised an eyebrow as Ginny's hand met hers in a sympathetic squeeze. What was she talking about? She quickly flipped through the entire conversations he had, had with Ginny. Nope. She had not discussed the situation with her parents.

The less people that know the better, thought Hermione.

“It's a very hard decision to make Hermione. I'm sure that there's something that you see in Ron that no one else does. Something that makes you like him despite the stupid things he does. And then, there are the amazing qualities that Harry has that are quite obvious to me. It's what I liked about him.”

“Really, Gin, you've got me all wrong. There is not a single part of me questioning what Ron and I have.”

Lie. That's all she had been doing lately.

Every part of her was questioning her relationship. She knew why she was in the relationship. Ron had unknowingly taken advantage of her in a weak spot. Soon after the final battle, she had said yes. But he had agreed to take it slow.

It was moving beyond slow. It was stalled and possibly never moving forward again.

Ginny didn't believe her either as she continued on with her speech.

“I know mum thinks that by getting a stable job that Harry and I will miraculously reunite and forget about all of our problems. But he and I both know that it's over. So Hermione if I'm the reason you're holding back anything, I'm here to tell you that I really don't care. I'm at peace with it.”

Her jaw dropped. Was Ginny giving her permission to break her brother's heart? Of course she wouldn't. She couldn't. There had to be a code somewhere that made siblings stick together. Maybe it only applied to older siblings.

But still.

“I cannot take Harry from you.”

“Men are not property Hermione. He's not mine. He's not yours, he's a living breathing person. And I just happen to think, if you gave it a little effort that it could work out between the two of you.”

Hermione stood up from her chair. She had, had about enough of this conversation. It was just too weird. She could imagine in her head being Harry's girlfriend, but she couldn't imagine living it. He was her friend. Ron was her friend and her boyfriend. It could one day be a recipe for disaster if she made such a move.

“Friends before relationship,” she muttered to herself.

She did not notice Ginny's stares. She kept repeating the words to herself as if it would make her feel any better. It didn't. Ginny's words echoed in her head.

It could work out between the two of you, he thought.

He needed someone to talk to.

And that was why he found himself in front of Neville's office. Neville was a Healer at St. Mungo's. But besides that he had an extensive knowledge of plants. He was the one that most people asked for advice on treatments.

He lived and breathed on the third floor and found much excitement. Finding the cures to some of the rarest and deadliest plants.

He stormed into the room. He had lost most professionalism they were supposed to have in the hospital.

“What happened to you?” Neville asked.

He looked pretty tired. Probably from all the overtime he had lately. Harry was trying to help him pick up the slack to avoid life. But he soon found that life seeped through no matter what. And here he was panicking to put it together. He had about two hours to do this.

And after that, he would have to face it.

He would have to face her.

“How do you stop yourself from doing something idiotic?”

Neville stared at him over his paperwork. His face held no expression. Of course, it didn't affect him in the least bit.

“You're asking me this?” asked Neville.

“This is me asking for advice. Which I need desperately,” said Harry. He looked down at his watch. “I've got one hour and 56 minutes.”

He sighed.

“Well, I'd have to know what you are about to do. It might not be idiotic at all. Have you ever thought about fearing the reaction of it? I suggest that whatever it is just do it. The outcome could be better than you expect.”

Harry stared at his friend. He had become wise, and given advice so great to many others. And yet this was all he had for him. Harry could listen to his words, but that made no sense. He wanted to run in the other direction.

“Neville you know me. I couldn't do it, and I can't do it. I've never been brave enough and…”

“You are one of the bravest people I have ever met. Harry Potter, or no Harry Potter. You've never had to do any of the stuff that you've done. You have two options: either take a chance and accept the consequences or leave it be and regret it the rest of your life.

Harry trusted Neville, but he would keep the risk to himself. His business tended to wind up in the newspapers, no matter how loyal a friend Neville was. There were eyes and ears everywhere.

“Maybe you're right Neville. What's the worst that can happen?”

“Nothing,” smiled Neville. “As long as it gets you back to work. It would be terrible if we diagnosed a patient wrong. Whatever it is seems to be distracting you so much. It must be important. She must be important.”

Harry was shocked. But he grinned. Neville knew exactly what was going on. He might not know exactly who it involved but he was telling him to go for it. No matter what the costs, he should try.

And you know what, Harry thought. I think I might try.

-->

A/N: I would just like to take the opportunity to thank each and every one of you who have reviewed this story. Love it or hate it I love to know what you think and love comments on how it can be greater improved.

Harry sat on his bed reading through manuals but he could not concentrate. His supervisor had noticed a slip in his work. The consequences: two weeks off and a pile of medical journal.

“That has got to be boring,” said Hermione.

“Yeah,” said Harry.

She was just the distraction he needed. Harry patted the spot next to him on the bed. She sat down.

“Your day must not have gone to well,” commented Harry.

“No, I was just hassled by Ginny. Only to be further harassed when I went Christmas shopping.”

“Don't worry there's still money left in your vault. I only shop to feel better.”

“And what made you feel so bad?”

“Ginny not so secretively implied that we should be together.”

Harry turned on his bed facing the middle, and her. This was his only chance. He summoned up all of his courage.

“How would you feel about that? Us together I mean.”

Only the ghost of her earlier smile remained. She had the feeling he was serious about his proclamation. She wanted desperately to touch his forehead and make sure he wasn't catching a fever. That would be an explanation for him not being at work.

Surely hospitals would not send sick people to cure sick people. It was contradictive to itself.

“I feel that it would be….interesting.”

That was all she could say. She neither wanted to disappoint him or get his hopes too high. But she wanted to say yes.

“How is interesting?”

He didn't usually pry like this. She tried to send signals which he usually understood. It said `leave her alone'. And usually he understood that, but not now. He was purposely ignoring it and it was no use.

“I've just about ruined one friendship. I wouldn't want to destroy it completely. And risk our friendship ending.”

“It wouldn't,” said Harry.

She wasn't rejecting him. That's what he knew. Harry had not realized how much he wanted this. But Hermione wanted even more not to get hurt again.

“Don't make promises that you can't keep.”

“But I want to keep this one,” said Harry. He took her hand. “What if instead, I promised to be here for you as long as you let me.”

Hermione took in a deep breath. Never before had that been promised to her. She found the idea very appealing. The look Harry gave her felt like spiders crawling on her flesh and warmed her heart.

“I know it sounds selfish, but it's what I want. And I know it's unfair to Ron…”

“It doesn't even scratch the surface…”

“…But that doesn't make up for how he's treated you. I'm begging you to stop making excuses for him.”

There was a silence in Harry's bedroom. He regretted the tone he had taken with her. IT was none of his business. She knew that Harry was only trying to protect her.

“We have a little over a month,” said Hermione absently.

It was only then that she realized how time had wasted away before her. She was young. Hermione had once believed she had all the time in the world to accomplish all the things that she wanted, but that was not true.

“I'll take whatever I can get,” said Harry.

And with that they hugged. A mutual understanding had passed between the two. Neither of them knew how long the relationship would last but he hoped forever. But that was being selfish.

It scared her. She didn't know how long the relationship would last. Never before had she started what she couldn't finish.

And Hermione couldn't imagine not seeing the rest of this through.

&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&

“Darling, I think your grandmother would appreciate her morning cup of tea,” said Margaret.

Olivia had just about had it with her mother. She was personally glad that Hermione had gotten away from the madness. She had some peace, and if there was such a thing as luck Hermione would be having fun.

Soon after Hermione left they turned their anger to her. They asked why she had not stopped her sister. But she too rebelled against them. They had threatened to kick her out, and she had agreed to leave.

Olivia had plenty friends that she could stay with. The thought sounded appealing but she wouldn't. She couldn't leave her grandmother here. All of their fighting definitely could not be good.

“I've been here making her morning tea for well over three months mum. One spoon of sugar, and not to hot so she doesn't burn her tongue off,” snapped Olivia. “Don't you have work?”

“She is very particular about her tea.”

“And I'm particular about my sanity,” said Olivia.

She wrapped her hands around the tea cup and placed it on tray along with the bowl of porridge. She personally couldn't stand the stuff. It stuck to her sides and just the thought made her gag. But her grandma Violet loved it.

She positioned the tray on her hip as she opened the door. Olivia placed the tray on the bed, but stopped and knocked on the door.

“Grammy, it's morning rise and shine,” said Olivia. She was unusually chipper and she never sounded like that in the morning. Well...she never sounded like that period.

And that still hadn't woken her. Olivia placed the tray on the dresser, and turned on the lamp illuminating the room.

“I thought I was a heavy sleeper, but I swear you can take the cake. But no can beat Hermione when she snores. I mean that is truly horrible,” rambled Olivia.

She poked her grandmother.

Still nothing.

Her smile began to fade as she realized something. Olivia grabbed the nearest mirror and put it under the elderly woman's nose. There was nothing. Reading mystery books had showed her this trick.

And it had failed.

“No, you are fine. You are just playing another horrible trick on me,” muttered Olivia.

She shoved her even more violently than she should. Olivia had always been terrified of dead people. Her mother was like that also. They would stay rooted in their seats while everyone else wanted to see what the body looked like.

She would always remember her grandmother's face. It was so kind and inviting. And she loved everyone. And yet all she could feel was anger.

“You can not leave me here to deal with this. I need you.”

She had never told her grandmother that. Olivia had had the time, but she hadn't realized that time would not be on her side.

A/N: Please review.

-->

Hermione gazed at her phone. Minutes before it had helped relayed the terrible news. Her grandmother was dead. She wished she could turn back time. She wanted to turn back to before she had picked up the phone.

Why, oh why hadn't she just let it ring?

Minutes before she lay beside Harry on his bed. His arms once wrapped around her protectively.

Hermione closed her eyes. She didn't cry over it.

The death.

Harry was there too. He had heard the whole conversation between Hermione and her mother. It had been brief. Only necessary words were exchanged.

“She's in a better place now,” insisted Harry.

Hermione clasped her hands around his and lightly squeezed them.

“I know.”

She wanted to say a lot of things. She could describe her grandmother's features, but it would not help. If anything she would go backwards into a depression. It was a rare occasion that someone died in the family. Hermione had been known to take the events hard.

“I heard my mum's voice for the first time in what seems like forever. And I don't know why, but it seemed different. Like loosing grandma took more out of her than I thought it would.”

“You've imagined her dying?”

“Harry, she's lived longer than any of us expected. Besides that her health wasn't in the greatest position,” she finished wistfully.

Hermione stared up at the ceiling, looking as lost as ever. She tapped her fingers against her chin, appearing to be planning her next move. She had no idea what that was going to be.

“I think that I'm going to start packing. We should leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” asked a bewildered Harry. “I'd rather not intrude on a private moment.”

“I'd rather not be left alone with my family. We're just going to pay our respects and we're coming right back around. My only interests lie in her…and in Olivia. Yes, we must check on my sister.”

She glided out of the room. Talking aloud to herself, counting out the items that she needed to bring for the trip.

Harry shrugged it off. He was forcing himself not to worry about her. And to not ask how she was doing every time he thought something was wrong. There was a good chance there was, but they were her battles to fight. He had no intentions of getting between that.

He was still groggy from sleep.

So that's what he did sleep.

Harry did not understand that it would be this tough having Hermione as his girlfriend. Hermione stopped him in the process of bringing his bags to the door. Hermione had two small ones well within her personal limit.

She pressed her lips together as she looked inside it. The zipper slid back, and she opened it in his direction. But he already knew what the bag contained.

“Honestly Harry,” said Hermione as she rolled her eyes. “I meant to pack light but this is ridiculous.”

There was no winning with her. He simply folded his arms across his chest not too long before he was dragged off by Hermione to his room.

“Absolutely ridiculous,” was her mantra as she dumped the little he had put in there. Her facial expression changed as she kneeled down in front of his dresser and pulled out shirts and pants and folded them neatly into the bag. “See?”

“Yes, thank you,” laughed Harry.

“Now, I have to go make sure I have everything. Be ready in twenty minutes.”

Hermione walked into her room and turned on the lights. She surveyed the room scanning for anything that she might have left behind. Hermione actually had no idea how long they would be staying. Though she knew how long she wanted to stay.

Her eyes fell on her family portrait. She had stupidly taken it with her when she left home. When Hermione moved in she “hid” it from herself, but it didn't work. And now she stood staring at it. Her body gravitated to it like a magnet, she stood before it.

Her hands were out of her pocket cradling the frame delicately in her hands. Her fingers ran across the intricate flower design and finally rested on the faces in the picture. She singled out the one of her parents, and then finally the one of her grandmother.

It was her smile that drew her to it. She had been told by many that she had the same smile. The thought brought her hands across her lips as she continued to look at it. The photo captured her. No, it wasn't moving like wizarding pictures, but it still captivated her senses.

Hermione did not notice it until Harry rested his head on her shoulder. Did twenty minutes go by that fast?

“It's been twenty minutes, but if you wanted to stay longer I would understand.”

“I can't believe I've been looking at this for that long,” she said in astonishment.

“I think she'd be proud of you.”

“You think so?” she asked.

The truth was, Hermione had no idea what Violet Granger would have to be proud of. Olivia was the one that Violet had passed on all her crafts to. Olivia was the one that talked to her, and sat with her when no one else had the time. It was all Olivia.

Hermione had never been jealous of sister, but she wished she had that connection. She wished she could appreciate the older woman just a little bit more for what she had done in her life, but she couldn't.

“I know so.”

She didn't know that. Hermione wondered how Harry could be that confident in his belief.

“We should get going. I'd be upset if I missed the funeral.”

Hermione didn't want to miss the funeral. She had already missed so many milestones in her family. Some births and some deaths she had simply let go saying there would be another. But there would probably never be another matriarch.

Harry flicked his wand and sent their bags off before them. She touched his arm, obviously too late to stop him from shipping the bags off.

“What?” he asked.

. She felt the strange pulling sensation, and her parents living room came into view.

She grabbed onto the arm rest, before she collapsed on the ground. She had not been expecting Harry to apparate them so soon. He usually gave warning.

“Where do you want these bags?”

“They can go in the guest room. I think it's best if I just give Olivia some space for now.”

He nodded and proceeded to carry the first of the bags upstairs.

Hermione smiled.

She had seen him reach for his wand on instinct, but he thought better of it. Her parents would not appreciate magic being done in the house.

She realized as he walked away that he was giving her time. Time to readjust to being in her house and time to deal with any parental fall out. Hermione took a seat on the couch. It felt like she was suddenly a stranger in the home.

“Hermione is that you…?” trailed off Margaret.

“Well you called me,” she stated bitterly.

“I didn't think you'd come. How long will you be here?”

“That depends on the funeral.”

“It's in two days. That gives relatives a chance to get here.”

“Who all are we waiting for?”

“Distant relatives.”

“You mean the ones we never see? Mum you know what they're coming for.”

“And what would that be?” Margaret asked folding her arms across her chest.

“Would you two just shut up?” snapped Olivia. “Harry and I can hear you from upstairs.”

“Harry's here?”

Her face was in a look of surprise, but Hermione could not tell if it was good or bad.

“It makes no sense; she only knew the five of us so we should just have the immediate family. Just bury her and get the damn thing over with.”

“Violet would not appreciate that.”

“Well, she wouldn't be proud of what you're doing right now. That's for sure.”

“Olivia,” started Margaret.

Olivia however ignored her mother and looked at Hermione. She fidgeted with the bottle cap she had in her hands.

With the same bottle of water in her hands, Hermione talked to Harry in their room.

“She's not doing alright,” murmured Hermione. “Is it even possible to move a funeral up?”

“Magically yes, but I doubt tit can be done the muggle way. Do you think Olivia was implying…”

“Even if she was mum can't have her cake and eat it too.”

-------------------

Two days later Hermione stood in front of the mirror surveying her dress. She was nervous around her own family.

“I feel ridiculous,” she moaned.

“But you look beautiful,” said Harry.

He too aimed at formality, but his tie still hung loose about his shoulders.

“Can you say that on the day of a funeral?”

“I don't know, but you do. Try not to be so morbid about it.”

Hermione couldn't help but smile as she adjusted her necklace. She spied her mother peeking her head through the door as she was dressing.

“Darling are you about ready?” asked Mrs. Granger. “Harry I'm sure that Hermione needs some time to get ready. She can meet you downstairs in a little while. After all we are a bit pressed for time.”

“It's fine mum, I am almost done anyway.”

“If you haven't noticed, Hermione, Harry is a grown man. Now I have no idea what you are up to wherever you are staying, but in this house….”

Hermione tuned the woman out murmuring over her words to Harry as she gently fixed his tie. In her head however she had a plan to strangle her mother with it.

“I'm not here for her,” she told him softly. “But I am doing my best to tolerate it.”

“She cares about you,” said Harry.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but stopped. Her sister peeped her head in the room too. It had been like this for the past two days. Relatives popping their heads into her room to say hello or to ask a simple question.

She loved them all, and she loved her little cousins, but she wished for some privacy. And above all else some time to think.

“You two ready?” asked Olivia.

Hermione nodded her head briefly.

The one thing that she did like about Grimmauld Place was its privacy. There were some days where she wished she could view the birds outside her bedroom window. But to her advantage she didn't have to deal with the barging in of her mother, father or sister. She loved them all dearly, but she was now accustomed to just being with Harry.

-----------------------

They had been gone for at least three hours. All of them Hermione hoped that they could get along. She had hoped that they could forget any animosity between the four of them and honor the life of Violet Granger, but that didn't happen.

They had arrived back at the house. Hermione and Olivia had taken the same side against their parents folding their arms and holding their bags. And poor Harry…he was in the middle of them all acting as a mediator.

“I know I never asked out loud for this, but I was hoping….I was praying that we could let it all go for three hours. Just three hours, that's all I was asking. You didn't have to like me, and we didn't have to exchange endearments, but we could have kept it all in.”

That was it. They were in the house. There was no priest to feel ashamed in front of, and she didn't feel confined by the sanctuary that was the cemetery. She at least knew that they hadn't.

“Stop it,” yelled Harry. “I understand that you're angry, but there is another way to about this than throwing the blame around.”

“She never meant what she said, Hermione. This is a tough time for all of us. If you would just take a minute and consider this in your mother's perspective…"

“I'm done,” she whispered.

Harry strained his ears to catch what she said. He couldn't believe that he was hearing this. Was it possible? Hermione was known for her kindness, and also her fierceness. But he sincerely doubted that she was forgiving to that extent.

-------------

A/N: Hopefully I'll be able to post another chapter before the Christmas holidays arrive.

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“What do you mean you're done?” shouted Mrs. Granger.

“I mean just what I've said,” said Hermione.

Harry looked between the two women, as the conversation bounced back and forth. He couldn't believe that she was being so calm about this. She had just resigned all hope for her family.

“I've lost all my energy to fight you. And you've obviously stopped caring about common decency after the funeral fiasco.”

“I did not mean to say it.”

“Mum, you didn't want me to hear it, but you definitely thought that.”

Within seconds Olivia stood in between her mother and sister.

“How about I make us dinner, and we can all just sort this out,” said Olivia. “What do you say?”

Hermione gritted her teeth.

“You can make dinner every night for all I care. But I'm not going to be here to eat it. My home is with Harry now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. He wondered if now was the opportune time to intrude on the family battle. But he couldn't fit in a word edgewise.

“You think that I want her money?”

“Well as I recall you don't work.”

“And do you think that I need to?” she flared.

“Yes, or is that just common of all people in…”

Harry picked up the book from the coffee table and slammed it on the glass coffee table. The inside of it shattered and everyone was silent. Olivia's mouth was agape as she stared at the broken glass. She pointed and stared at Harry a squeak escaping her mouth.

No one was hurt.

“The table is broken,” murmured Margaret.

“Would you all stop fighting for a damn minute? Talk as if you had emotions for once. It just shocks me how you care more about a table than you care about your daughter.”

“Don't you dare tell me how much I care about my daughter,” sniffed Margaret.

“Is there anything I could possibly say to change your mind? Anything that will prompt you to apologize to each other? I'm not promising that it will fix anything, but today is not the day to fight about this. Can we at least agree on this?”

“I believe that this is a family discussion,” stated Paul.

“Fine,” said Harry as he got up from his spot.

“Harry wait,” pleaded Hermione.

She really did not want to be alone with her parents right now. Hermione had counted it in her head and it would only take her ten seconds to draw her wand from its current position and send them back to their place in Australia.

Now that she thought about it. It wasn't a good idea.

“I know Hermione,” whispered Harry. “Just come home when you're finished.”

-----------

Home.

That sounded unbelievably nice. Although she had lived in this one all her life, it was never hers. It was her parents house and not truly her own.

She turned away from Harry as he walked up the stairs. Undoubtedly to back his bags and return to Grimmauld Place. He had abandoned his assigned reading for her, and her only hope was that he could catch up on it.

She turned back to her parents and motioned for them all to sit down.

“You may not want to listen to what he has to say, but I believe that he is right. And it's not a matter of who is right or wrong. It's because we are a family, or at least we used to be. Not everybody has that opportunity or that chance.”

A silence permeated the room. The clock ticked in the hallway.

“So you're officially moving out?” asked Mrs. Granger.

The woman's eyebrows were raised as she looked at her daughter. Hermione was taken aback at the sudden change in her mother. No, she was not yet ready to hug her, and to talk to her with the freedom she once had. But she could hold a civil conversation with the woman.

“I guess so. I can't live here forever, right?”

“Well you could, but I doubt Harry would like it,” quipped Olivia.

Hermione smirked at her sister.

“Paul. How about we go and prepare dinner?”

“But there is still a lot that needs to be discussed,” he replied.

“And you and I can discuss them in private later.”

She gave him a stern look. Eventually he gave up and followed her into the kitchen leaving Hermione and Olivia sitting on the couch. After hearing the door swing closed Hermione and Olivia breathed a sigh of relief.

They looked at each other and laughed.

“Today has been quite the interesting day. Hasn't it Herms?”

“I'm going to let you call me that today. And only for today, Livvy,” Hermione reciprocated.

Hermione gazed across the room until her eyes locked with her sisters once again.

“I just can't believe I don't live here anymore.”

“You know, I was about to ask if you needed help packing, but I remembered that you already have all of your things. Talk about doing things backwards.”

“Come on,” said Olivia.

Olivia held out her hand towards Hermione. She sat there stupidly for a second before she wrapped Hermione's hands around her own.

“Thumb war? We haven't done this in forever.”

“I know.”

And they began to play as Hermione laughed. She had always lost the game, but that didn't mean it was any less fun.

“So why do you think mum and dad just let it go.”

“Well, Harry has a way with words. He can convince just about anyone to do anything,” giggled Hermione. “I think that's how he got me to date him.”

“You've gone on a date?”

“No, but you know what I mean. But then there's grandma too.”

“How do you figure?”

Hermione circulated her hand as Olivia crushed it once again. Hermione rolled up her sleeves once again as she pumped herself up for another round. She was determined to win for once.

“She always promised to watch over us, to make sure that we are the happiest we can be.”

“But we both know how adults can lie.”

“I may not have known her as long as you have, but I know that she has never lied to me,” said Hermione.

She caught Olivia in a weak moment and finally won her first game. She jumped on the couch for a few minutes but jumped down before Margaret came back in the room. She did not want to ruin this burst of a good mood.

“You caught me in a moment,” cried Olivia.

Hermione came closer to her sister and hugged her rocking her back and forth.

“I've won, and you just need to get over it. I'm the only one allowed to cry in this house.”

--------------

“Harry are you here?” asked Hermione.

She put down a couple of shopping bags on each arm. A majority of the lights were on in the house as Hermione surveyed. She carefully walked through each room and couldn't help but notice the decorations that were put up.

Hermione had wanted to do it herself. She felt a frown form on her face as she thought about the extra decorations she had just purchased. But joy was also in her heart as Harry had done what she had no energy to do.

“Harry left to get a tree, but he said he would return soon.”

Hermione gaped as she looked at him. Ron was standing right across from her. If she wanted to she could reach across and prod a finger or two into his chest. Hermione could hug him if she felt happy enough to.

But she didn't.

At the moment his face symbolized misery.

Oh, and she forgot dread. Lots of dread.

“So how's Quidditch?”

She felt herself nodding her head like a true idiot at her own question. God she felt beyond pathetic. She gripped the countertop in the kitchen.

“It's doing fine. We're going up for our second win this season. We won the last game.”

And it was contagious. He too started nodding in the manner that very much resembled a duck. It made her hate him even more.

Except she didn't hate him for who he was. She hated him for what he did to her heart. And right now her own heart hurt, because she wouldn't be tearing out her own, but instead his.

It took all the will power in the world, but she finally tore her gaze away from him, and looked down at the floor. She found her shoes very interesting. They were an old pair of converse. And at that moment she considered their desperate need for a proper cleaning.

She thought about the cleaning in such detail, until she thought about the potential fraying of the aglet.

At that point, she gave into the pressure. She approached the subject that she had long feared.

“Ron,” she piped up.

It amazed her how horribly squeaky her voice sounded.

He looked up at her his blue eyes shining.

“We need to talk.”

And after she uttered those four words he looked down. Every language must have a similar phrase for breaking up, and therefore it was universally understood. And that was just the beginning.

That morning she had gotten up to an empty house, and had spent her day shopping. At least until Harry got off his shift at St. Mungo's. She hoped for a nice dinner inside the house, or perhaps they could go on a real date. She had not had the courage to plead the request to Harry, but nevertheless she had been dying to go.

But right now she was dying to get out of this situation.

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A/N: I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas. I appreciate all the reviews.

The journey to the couch was indeed a long one. Hermione herself chose a seat on the armrest, and beckoned Ron to sit across from her.

“Where do I begin?”

“Well if it helps you can talk about the funeral,” he suggested.

Hermione waved him off. Her palm found its place under her chin as she tapped thoughtfully.

“I think it's time to move past the funeral. We can't dwell on those that have died. They've lived their lives and now it's our turn.”

“Okay…” he trailed off.

“While I was at my parents' house there was this huge episode. It was disgraceful. It was embarrassing not only to myself, but to the rest of the family members. And I still remember the look on the pastor's face. It was priceless.”

She could almost talk about it. As if it was a thing of the past.

“What exactly did happen?”

“That's not all that important, but we all grew from it a bit. Out of tragedies come wonderful events and it's just…” she trailed off dreamily.

“Just what?”

“My parents they have finally let go. There is no hostility between us and I guess I'm in the wizarding world permanently.”

“That's great.”

“For me,” paused Hermione. “But it may not have the same effect for you.”

“What does this mean?”

“I think you know what I mean.”

He stared at her as if he was not willing to believe in her. But she nodded his head contradicting his shake of `no'.

“Ron it's time to just let the relationship die. I'm sure that we can just be friends. We were always better at friendship than at relationships.”

Hermione couldn't help but smile to herself. She had finally done what she had promised Harry.

“You're kidding me right,” yelled Ron.

Hermione flinched. She had expected anger from Ron, but somehow it was real. She was experiencing his pain and she felt it come off of him in waves.

“I just want you to calm down a bit,” she pleaded.

“No,” he responded jabbing a finger in direction. “I think I'm as calm as a person can be in this situation. I knew something was up when you moved in with Harry. Just friends works for us, but Harry's the exception. He's always the exception isn't he?”

“No,” she said shaking her head. She bit down hard on her lip. “I have always tried to keep it equal between you guys.”

Why weren't break ups peaceful?

“Hermione, you can break up with me, or do whatever the hell you want with your life,” shouted Ron. “Do everything you want with Harry, and be happy. But don't you dare stand in front of me, and tell me that it's all going to be alright. Maybe I don't love you the way that you'd prefer, but I am a person just like you. I just don't appreciate that you had to lie to me. I thought we were friends, but I guess I was wrong.”

“We are friends,” defended Hermione.

“Not the same way that you're friends with Harry,” he shrugged.

He looked at Hermione his blue eyes alive with anger. She was speechless as she shuffled her feet. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts. She heard him apparate away, but she found nothing to convince her to look after him.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Hermione sighed as she flopped down on the couch grabbing at a pillow and hugging it tightly to her chest.

“Hermione you're going to love this,” shouted Harry from the foyer. “I believe I've found the perfect tree. It's nice, tall and full, just as you described to me. I think we're in store for the perfect Christmas.”

“Is that so?” she asked laughing slightly.

She knew he would worry. And she didn't want him picking over her. Hermione knew it was how he showed affection, but she didn't feel in the mood right now. And that's when she got the perfect idea.

“I think I'm going to take a bath. Do you think you can handle dinner tonight?”

“Sure,” muffled Harry.

Hermione had to strain her ears to catch the word, but she was positive that was what she had heard. She would have loved to watch Harry struggle to overpower the tree before he realized that he had a wand. Or perhaps he could not reach it at the optimum moment.

She hummed herself a mellow tune as she began to block out the rest of the world. Hermione walked into her room and further into her bathroom. She was taken away form the world of color and introduced to the pure white of it all. Kreacher had nothing better to do all day to clean although she insisted otherwise.

She sat on the edge of the tub as she turned on the faucet and watched the water trickle out. Hermione pulled down a bottle of bubble bath and began to pour it into the water. She sat and hummed a tune while she watched the water pour out into the tub. She began loosening the laces on her shoes and threw them off.

They hit the door not long before Harry peeked his head in the door.

“Are you alright?” he asked concerned as he looked over at the tub.

“Harry I'm fine. It's a bit chilly outside so I wanted to take a warm, relaxing bath. Is there a problem with that?”

“I can't worry about you?”

“I'm happy and I'm healthy. What is there to worry about?”

Hermione turned off the water and walked over to Harry. She began to usher him out of the bathroom until there was only a small section of the door open.

Hermione leaned in and kissed him. Something she had not done in quite a while. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pushed his way back into the bathroom. She stopped the heated kiss as she felt herself blush.

“Hermione there's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's just me and you.”

“I know that,” whispered Hermione. She carefully cleared her throat before she responded to him. “But you know that there's a tree downstairs, and a dinner that needs to be cooked. And I need to be taking a bath right now.”

“But you and I…we'll continue this later.”

“Sure,” squeaked Hermione. “But that means you have to leave now.”

Harry's smile was contagious. So she had to smile as Harry gave a mischievous look and pecked her on the cheek. She quickly divulged her body of clothes and hoped into the tub feeling all of her troubles fading away into the vat of water.

%%%%%%%%%

“Did the Christmas tree turn out alright?” asked Mrs. Weasley upon her sons return.

“I would have no idea. I didn't stay long enough to see it,” moaned Ron.

“What do you mean? I thought Harry wanted the perfect tree for Hermione's first Christmas at the house. I've been hearing talk about her parents ultimatum.”

Despite himself he chuckled.

“That's a long time over. Hermione has decided to stay here in the wizarding world.”

“Isn't that wonderful,” signed Mrs. Weasley. “I would sure miss her help on the holidays. We need more women around this house.”

“I was figuring that Harry and Hermione could spend Christmas together by themselves this year. And rather we can spend it together as the Weasley family. It'll be nice to have just us for once.”

“Oh, Ronald, don't be selfish,” admonished Ginny.

She had floated in on the last piece of the conversation. She realized that he must have found out about Hermione and Harry. She was secretly rooting for them, but was still concerned for her brother's feelings.

“You have no idea how they feel.”

“But I know exactly what you're going through.”

“Do you?”

“I've been dumped a couple of times, and trust me life does go on.”

“No, Ginny, you definitely don't understand how I feel right now. This goes deeper than our relationship. It's our friendship that she's ruined. And that is irreparable.”

“Fine throw yourself a pity party, but I am not going to sit here and watch it all go down. I am going over to Grimmauld and inviting them over for Christmas. It may not be what you want to hear, but it's the truth. She may have wrecked your friendship, but you're alienating her.”

Ron ignored Ginny and went up to his room. Ginny flinched as the door slamming rang throughout her ears.

“Is it true?” asked Mrs. Weasley curiously.

“What?”

“Is it true that Ron and Hermione are no longer together? And is it true that it is Harry and Hermione now.”

“Yes and yes,” cheered Ginny.

“You're a bit happy about this aren't you, dear?”

“Don't tell Ron, mum, but I kind of facilitated the beginnings of the relationship. Or at least I gave Hermione that extra push that she needed.”

“Ginny…” started Mrs. Granger.

“Mum, you and I both know that Ron isn't want she needs. He's my brother and all, but he is quite stupid. I honestly couldn't take it anymore.”

“That's not what I was going to say.”

“Oh?”

“It doesn't matter what you believe should happen. Harry and Hermione are adults and I'm sure they don't want you meddling in their personal affairs. And even if they don't mind just wait until your brother finds out. There will be no end to it. And I am not playing mediator for a squabble between the two of you.”

“You're not going to tell him are you?” asked Ginny.

“I have never lied to my children, not even about lying. If he so happens to broach the subject with me, I will tell him.”

Ginny cursed her mother. But Mrs. Weasley hadn't noticed as she continued to stir her pot on the stove.

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A/N: Please Review.

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A/N: I think there's about two or three chapters left, before this story is finished. Thank you everyone who reviews. I appreciate your comments.

Dinner was a silent affair at Grimmauld Place. Although Hermione knew Harry wanted to pick up where they left off earlier that was just hot happening.

“What are our plans for Christmas?” asked Harry breaking the silence.

“We've already discussed this. You and I are staying here.”

Hermione returned to her plate, but couldn't help but notice the hints of frustration and anger on his face.

“I know we've discussed it, but nothings set in stone. I wondered if we were going to the Burrow. Molly's always inviting us for Christmas dinner.”

“Harry I wanted to spend some time with you.”

But Harry stood his ground. He had known something was up. Harry continued his attempt to steer the conversation into some direction where he could make sense of it all. Hermione cleverly avoided it. He didn't like it one bit.

She was lying to him.

“I figure Ron and I could toss around a bludger or two. Perhaps you'd like to bake gingerbread with Mrs. Weasley.”

Keeping it civil at the dinner table was hard. She could feel her calm exterior slipping away. Hermione thought he had previously promised not to pry her for information. This was going back on a promise. And now he had started a war.

“I don't bake Harry, remember? What is it with you tonight?”

“I just thought you understood how important family is to me,” he spat.

None of it made any sense to Hermione. Her explanations were lies, so of course his answers were too. Except for the last comment. He had meant that.

She was a bit unsure of how much he actually knew. She had been in the shower long enough so he had time to apparate over and interrogate Ron into submission.

“How long have you known?”

“Known what?” asked Harry.

“Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. I can't believe that you would go over to the Burrow and talk to Ron. I told you that I would handle this myself. What if he had done something stupid? I'd prefer not to be visiting my boyfriend in St. Mungo's.”

“So you told him,” said Harry. “Is it that hard to be honest and tell me what's bothering you?”

“I didn't want to bother you with it,” she said. “Even though I live here I would like to maintain a sense that I am my own person. We're not joined at the hip.”

“I know we're not,” he said.

Hermione knew he was probably seething at her statement, but he deserved it. She had trusted him not to ask her about the fight she had with Ron. She just wanted to put it behind her. And here he was dragging it up again.

“I hate Brussels sprouts,” commented Hermione.

It was some weird vegetable pasta that he had concocted. And if he thought shredding them into small pieces was going to divert her attention from the bitter vegetable he had another thing coming.

“You don't have to eat it. I personally like it.”

Minutes later she stood from the small dining room table in the kitchen and threw the remains of her plate into the bin. Hermione calmly washed her plate in the sink and walked out of the kitchen.

How had she made the situation worse?

Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut?

Harry watched her walk up the stairs, and restrained himself from following her up the stairs. Soon after he heard her door close he too got up from the table. This time he actually left work for Kreacher.

Harry walked towards his room and plopped down on his bed opening a medical book. He had, had about all the distractions that he wanted that night. However Hermione entered his bedroom with a sound knock without waiting for a response.

He lowered his book to acknowledge her presence. He gave her a once over in her nightgown before he held up his book and continued reading.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The principles of good healing have changed over the years. As a Healer you must understand that there is little benefit in the practice, unless you are able to be intuitive. You must have an inner eye and know what the patient needs. It is beyond what they tell you…

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry peered up from the book once again. It was required reading. Otherwise he would not be fed the same crap that Professor Trelawney had tried to feed him. The patients always had a sense of what was wrong with them. No one could tell him that he didn't know his own body.

Harry peered once again at Hermione. She merely smiled and waved at him. Hermione pulled at the book until she had eased it out of his hands and onto the bed. She lightly closed it and moved it over onto his other nightstand.

Hermione adjusted the straps of her night gown as she addressed him. But she couldn't find the words to speak. Harry held his hands out and took a T-Shirt out and tossed it to her. Hermione barely caught it, but she passed it back to Harry.

“I'm fine, I guess I just wanted to talk. My mum always says you're not supposed to go to bed with anger. Otherwise it almost never gets resolved. I know she was just giving a tip on marriage, but I think it relates to relationships in general. So are we alright?”

“We're better than alright,” he said hugging her.

Hermione lost her grip on gravity for a second as she was pulled into his arms. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck as he had his wrapped around her waist. She leaned in and gave him a short kiss. It was getting late and she was forcing herself to go top her own room. Getting too comfortable in here was not an option.

“Good,” she agreed. “You're going to have to let go, you know.”

Hermione tugged at his hands around her waist and realized that they would not budge.

“What am I going to have to do to get you to let go?”

“Stay,” he pleaded.

“I am not staying here tonight, especially not with what I'm wearing. You can wake me up before you go on your shift tomorrow, alright?”

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A/N: Please Review.

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A/N: Well this is the last chapter. I'm not exactly pleased with it, but there is no other way that I can think of to end it. I want to thank each and everyone of you who read it and those who review it. Hope you enjoy!

“Hermione what is this about?” asked Harry.

Hermione leaned over and picked up a blindfold and covered his eyes. She grabbed one of his hands and helped him up the stairs. Harry stumbled a couple of times but eventually they reached the landing. They walked for what must have seemed like forever to him.

Hermione's smile simply grew as she continued the walk down the hallway until she stopped at the last room. It wasn't special or anything. The room was significantly smaller than the other ones and simply held a crib and a changing table.

Hermione let go of Harry's hands and leaned down picking Teddy Tonks out of the crib. He was a pretty good baby. Teddy was after all about three years of age. He didn't cry as she bounced him up and down on her shoulder.

“Hermione, you're starting to scare me a bit. What exactly is going on here? I figured that a nice photo album or a sweater would do for a gift. But I admit that you have peaked my interests.”

She smirked.

“I want you to open your hands, and hold them strong,” said Hermione. She carefully adjusted them judging if his grip would be strong enough to hold Teddy. Hermione finally decided that it was the right time and gently placed his godson into his arms.”

“You're kidding,” laughed Harry.

Hermione removed the blindfold and watched the scene unfold before her. She knew that he loved her, but this is what he had truly been missing in his life. Hermione had not known what he had been waiting for. Certainly he just needed a little bit of a push before he would communicate with his godson.

Harry took time out of his excitement to look at Hermione. She instantly knew that he was thanking her. Harry gave her a one armed hug, and Hermione couldn't help but feel as if she was intruding on a private moment.

“I'm just going to ask Kreacher how breakfast is coming along. Andromeda says he's on solid foods now.”

Harry's face fell. Hermione looked at him and understood this sudden change of emotion. Her words had sparked the one thing that she had been thinking about. She let her hand rest on his cheek.

“Don't you dare think about it Harry. All that matters is that you're here now.”

With that said and done Hermione walked out of the room and down the stairs leaving Harry with Teddy. Unfortunately he was pretty heavy so Harry put the boy back in his crib. He stared down at him his arms resting on the guard rails.

“I don't think Hermione realizes how much I've missed you. I don't have to tell her, and yet she knows exactly what's going through my head. Sometimes I don't even realize it. I know that you don't know me at all. The last time you saw me, you couldn't even talk…and I think I'm sorry for that. Actually I know I'm sorry for that. I know what it felt like to lose my godfather, and they can be your lifeline. Your parents entrusted me to take care of you, and I have failed you.”

Hermione knocked on the open door, her head resting against it a look set on her face.

“Breakfast is ready,” she told him. “Just bring him down whenever you're finished.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Hermione and Harry collapsed on the couch after a tiresome afternoon. He had seemed peaceful but after a while turned out to be a handful. The house was a bit too big as he took off running through the rooms. There was no spell that Hermione could think of in which to track the little boy.

He was adventurous.

“This is the perfect time for me to mention that I volunteered us to watch him two days a week while Andromeda goes to her club meeting,” sighed Hermione.

“You did what?” he asked. “Oh forget it.”

“Sorry,” she said. “Olivia told me it was a horrible idea. She knows how bad I am with kids, but for you I think I can tough it out. Besides Teddy's not the worst possible.”

“Hermione you are not horrible with kids.”

“There are plenty of stories, but that's for another day and for another time,” she said.

Hermione took a short break from the kitchen coming back with a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk. She placed them down on the coffee table before Harry and picked them up.

“A cookbook comes in handy every once in a while.”

“You're so right…” he agreed. “And they're not half bad.”

“Thanks,” she told him. “I had to do something. Gingerbread is after all a classic Christmas food, and it doesn't feel like Christmas to me at all. It's not as if today hasn't been a great day.”

“Today has been a wonderful day. I can't think of the words to thank you.”

“You don't have to,” she said.

Hermione leaned closer to him closing the distance between the two. His hands magically seemed to thread in her hair. Regretfully the moment was interrupted by a knock at the front door. They instantly separated and both sighed in frustration.

The only true moment they had to be by themselves was interrupted.

“I think I'll just go get the door,” said Hermione.

“Come on why don't you just ignore it? I think we were headed in a pretty good direction.”

Hermione smiled.

“I'll be back in a minute,” she said.

Hermione moved from the couch and headed towards the door. The person on the other end was obviously patient enough to have waited all this time. She finally undid the locks on the door, and stepped away. The smile slid from her face into a look of pure shock.

She couldn't believe that Ron stood before her. Hermione felt a tear forming in her eye and she couldn't help but reach out to touch him and wonder if perhaps he was real. She had dreamed of this moment, but never imagined it coming true.

“I was an idiot. I was a complete idiot, who didn't consider his best friends feelings. And I'm not expecting an apology here,” he told her.

She sensed the remorse in his voice and she couldn't help but to launch herself into his arms. Despite everything that had happened she would always love him. She would always forgive him, and Hermione knew deep in her heart that he could very well do it again.

That for sure would never change.

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