One by Konflickted

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 27/05/2008
Last Updated: 01/06/2008
Status: In Progress

...No Summary Available... AU/OOC- Slow start. Eventual H/Hr after the building chapters.




1. Four Years Prior
-------------------



Disc.: Empty pockets, no rights.

Four Years Prior

Harry looked up from his desk as Hermione and Ron stood in the doorway of his office. Harry
looked up, brushing his hair out of his face. He grinned, letting the pen drop from his hand. He
pushed back from his desk, grabbed his jack off the back of his chair, and headed out the office.
He locked the door and joined the others queuing for the elevator. Ginny grinned at him as she
joined them in a hurry, Luna and Neville rushing to join the rest on the elevator.

“I can't believe you're actually joining us for a change, Harry,” teased Hermione as the
doors closed them in and the group headed down to the parking lot.

“Hey, I come with you guys sometimes,” Harry defended laughing as he pulled his jacket on around
him. “I've just been busy.”

“Too busy to call his dear old mum, too,” Ron piped up from the back of the group.

“I'm not,” Harry defended.

“Your mum left like six messages,” Ron said as he pushed forward to the front of the crowd.
“You've not called her back. I'd never do that to my mum.”

“That's because your mum would show up on your doorstep with an army in her pocket,” Harry
laughed. The other's laughed.

“That she would,” Ron said as the doors parted and the group exited the elevator door opened.
The group exited the elevator and the building, standing on the curb.

“So, where are we headed?” Harry asked.

“Drunken Lizard Pub!” Ron cheered. Harry looked at him quizzically.

“A muggle pub?” Harry inquired.

“Ron has a thing for the bartender there,” Ginny teased.

“A girl,” Ron interjected quickly. His face turned red, straight to his ears. “And I don't
have a thing for her.” The others laughed and started down the street.

The Drunken Lizard was a quaint little pub with squat, square tables, dim lighting, and terrible
music. Harry couldn't understand why Ron would frequent a place like that in any form, but yet
there they were, crowded around a too small table while pitcher after pitcher of cheap brew was
drunk. Ron grabbed Harry's shirt and pulled the boy close, his breath reeking of some hard
liquor he had been doing shots of. Ron pointed to the bartender.

“That's her, mate,” Ron practically screamed. Harry looked at the girl and nodded. The girl
looked too young to be anywhere near a place like this, much less be behind the counter serving up
drinks. She had light, wispy hair that was pulled up and clipped. Even from across the room, Harry
could see that she had intense blue eyes.

“What's her name?” Harry asked him. Ron turned a little red.

“Dunno,” Ron said. “Never been able to get the nerve to talk to her. I get all sweaty and
mumbled.”

“You want me to?” Harry offered. Ron grinned, his drunken smile a bit lopsided.

“Could you, mate? I've been dying to put a name to the face,” Ron said. Harry nodded and
pulled away from Ron, assuring that Ron was perched safely on his stool with the others. Harry
walked confidently towards the bar and sat down at the end of it, away from the others who were
milling up to it to refresh drinks and to start new orders.

“What's your poison, son?” A man asked as he stopped in front of Harry. Harry glanced up at
the muscle bound fellow in front of him and hesitated.

“Actually, I was hoping she could serve me,” Harry said. The man looked at Harry
suspiciously.

“What business do you have with Addy?” The man asked.

“None,” Harry said simply as he dropped his gaze from the man. The man paused.

“Hey, Addy, this man wants a word with you,” the man said as he continued down the path away
from the spot where Harry was sitting.

“Can I help you, sir?” She asked, drawing Harry's attention from the spot he was gazing at
to her face. Up close, he could see why Ron was so smitten with her.

“You're not from around here,” Harry said stupidly for a second.

“It's the accent, isn't it?” Addy asked as she looked at Harry expectantly. Harry
nodded.

“I'm Harry,” he said extending his hand to her. She hesitated before shaking it.

“Addison,” she replied. “So, Harry. What can I get for you today?”

“Um, well. My friends are all doing shots and beer, but I was thinking a little something more
non-alcoholic,” Harry said quickly as he dropped her hand. She smiled at his sudden discomfort.

“Perhaps then a straight cola with a bit of soda water to lighten it up? It fools them every
time,” Addy offered. She quickly prepared it and handed it to Harry. He placed the money on the
counter.

“Keep the change,” Harry said grinning and he headed back to his large group of friends.

Ron was beside himself with the knowledge of her name, and begged Harry to remind him of it in
the morning. Just in case. Harry nodded, promising, and the crew continued their night until last
call at three. By then, Ron was barely able to stand on his feet, but he was hell bent on going
home with Luna. She was better off, even if her odd giggles seemed to pierce the night. The group
stood outside of the closed pub waiting for the cab to come.

“Want me to walk home with you?” Neville asked reluctantly as Ginny kept edging closer. Harry
shook his head.

“Nah, I'll be fine. The flats' only a few blocks,” Harry said. Neville looked relieved
and he climbed into the cab behind Ginny. Hermione grinned and waved good bye at Harry as she
climbed into the second cab they hailed. Harry waited until the cars disappeared before making the
long walk home. To his dismay, it began to sprinkle.

“Where are your friends, Harry?” a voice asked him as the person fell into step beside him.
Harry looked to see Addy walking next to him.

“They all took cabs to the other side of town,” Harry said. Addy nodded as the sky opened up
around them, threatening to drown them. Addy took Harry by the hand and ran down the street,
pulling him into the small door way of the first building they came to. It was a tight fit, the two
crammed together among the crazy planters and the call buttons.

“Come up for some coffee until the rain stops,” Addy said as she unlocked the door and lead him
inside the building. Seven flights of stairs later, they were standing in front of her door as she
fiddled with the lock.

“Problem?” Harry asked curiously. Addy made a face.

“It always gets stuck and I swear the super here is useless,” Addy said as she frowned at the
key. “I'll be right back as soon as I fetch a can of oil.”

“It's open,” Harry said as he pushed the door open. Addy turned to look at him at the door,
surprised. Shrugging she headed back to the door, unaware of Harry placing something back into his
jacket pocket.

“Amazing, I must say,” Addy said. “That thing never opens.”

“Skilled hands,” Harry said sheepishly as he peeled off his wet jacket. She brought him a stack
of clothes.

“Don't worry,” Addy said grinning. “My brother won't need these back.”

“You have a brother?” Harry asked. Addy shook her head.

“Had a brother, about two years ago he married some strange girl and they practically
disappeared. It was odd,” Addy said shrugging. “At least he's happy.”

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” Harry asked as he headed into the bedroom she pointed at for him
to change in.

“If I did, would it matter?” Addy asked as she stepped into the doorway. She had a look in her
eyes, and Harry was by far a stupid man.

“My friend, Ron, really likes you,” Harry blurted out as Addy slowly unbuttoned her shirt.

“The ginger boy? He's cute enough,” Addy said though she did not cease her activities. Harry
hesitated before throwing caution into the wind. After all he had been through, and how long it had
been since he had been with a woman, he could afford to throw caution to the wind for just one
night.

The next morning, he awoke alone in her bed. Beside his glasses was a note from her, stating
that she had a great time and that she'd call him. His clothes were dried and hung at the foot
of the bed. He was to let himself out. Just like that, Harry had his first one night stand.

-->



2. Missing Persons
------------------



**Disc.:** Thanks for the reviews. I know so far not much in the way of a plot has really
happened, but as you can see this chapter is lengthy and perhaps will make up for it. I have the
whole story plotted out so suggestion (like don't do this, do that) will be read, but yeah… not
going to change it. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to click the button for reviewing!! I
won't know when to throw in the towel until you tell me. *Read and Review.*

**AN:** Empty pockets, no rights.

**Missing Persons**

The office was unchanged even after four years. Each of the desks sat still, basked in the
darkness of the office. It was early still, none of the desk inhabitants having made it in quite
yet. Each of the desks gave little indication to the owner of the desk. A random picture here or
there was the only slightest hint of the owners of each desk. The lock clicked opened, Harry
walking in slowly. He flicked the lights on before pocketing his wand. Stowing his jacket on the
back of his chair, he took his seat and started to sort through papers contained in little folders
on his desk.

Harry headed up the missing persons department at the Ministry of Magic. It was neither a
glamorous nor high paying job, but it gave him a sense of purpose and a feeling of well being. He
glanced up as the door opened and Ron walked it. Ron grunted his morning greeting and took his seat
over at his desk. Harry and Ron had come a long way since there falling out three years ago. They
had only buried the hatchet because of Ginny and Hermione. Sometimes Harry still worried about Ron
and his feelings about the mistakes that he made.

“Good morning boys,” Ginny said brightly as she bound into the room toting her bright pink bag
and a platter of coffee. She placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Harry before distributing
the rest of the cups at the various desks.

“Remember, Hermione's on assignment with Luna today, out in the field,” Harry piped up as
Ginny was placing a cup down on Hermione's tidy desk. Ginny halted and placed the extra cups on
the table in the center of the room.

“I've got to fly out to Brussels tomorrow,” Ginny said as she took her own desk, pulling
forward a large file. “There is a man in the western part who thinks he's spotted Major
Buskins.”

“That's great,” Harry said nodding as Neville entered carrying a large stack of files. Harry
glanced up at the tired looking man but said nothing.

“If I can close that case, that's three years of searching and researching that will have
come to conclusion,” Ginny said proudly. Harry cringed at the words `three years' but it went
unnoticed.

“I'm heading to the Hall of Records to check on a few death certificates,” Ron said shaking
his head. He grinned and blushed.

“Tabitha Wood?” Harry asked curiously. Ron didn't say anything but his faced got redder.

“I just want to make sure that a few of these missing witches aren't missing because
they're, you know, dead,” Ron replied grinning. Harry nodded. His guilt let Ron get away with
much more than the other team members but no one said anything. That year was a very rough
year.

The phone in the office rang shrilly, startling the young crowd. Ginny moved and answered the
phone cheerfully.

“Department of the Missing,” Ginny said brightly.

“Ginny, hey, is Harry there?” Hermione asked quickly.

“Yeah, he's here,” Ginny said as she passed the phone off to Harry.

“Harry here,” Harry said needlessly.

“Look, Harry,” Hermione said. “Luna and I are bringing Magnus Tate's boy in for questioning.
Do you think you can get the conference room set up for us?”

“Sure, not a problem,” Harry said.

“We'll be there in ten,” Hermione said. Harry hung up and went to the small room beside
their group office. A lot of times, when bringing people in for questioning about their missing
family members, it had helped in the past to make them believe that the missing is the most
important case. Harry scribbled random words on the board in the conference room and spread out
random papers on the table. After a few wadded up cups in the trash can, Harry glanced around
thinking he staged the room right.

“Harry Potter,” a voice drawled quietly behind him. Harry spun around, his hand automatically
touching his wand. Draco Malfoy stood there, in the door way, his hands up in a non threatening
manner. “Easy there, Potter. I'm not here to fight.”

“Force of habit,” Harry murmured as he looked at the man who stood before him. “What brings you
down from the Minister's office?”

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Draco said quietly. “It's something I'd like to keep
quiet.”

“We only do missing people, here, Malfoy,” Harry said as he crossed his arms.

“Well, it is in regards to a missing person. Only, I don't want people catching wind of it,”
Draco said as he held a folder in his hand, his fingers caressing it slightly. “It's rather a
delicate situation.”

“Well, let's have a look,” Harry said as he reached out his hand. Draco held back a
second.

“Do I have your word that you'll keep it between you and me?” Draco asked as he held back on
the folder.

“I might have to bring Hermione in on it, depending, but she'll keep your confidences if at
all possible,” Harry said. Harry could see Draco twisting that around behind those steel grey eyes
of his, weighing the pros and cons. Satisfied, he nodded once.

“I can live with that,” Draco said as he handed Harry the folder. Harry opened it up and looked
at the file. Inside was the standard missing person's report form that every witch and wizard,
spouse or child, who has gone missing has filled out about them. A recent picture of the person was
clipped inside.

“Gayle Addison Malfoy?” Harry asked slowly as the familiar girl looked back at him from a muggle
picture, still as death.

“My wife,” Draco said with his voice cracking slightly. “She's gone missing with our
son.”

“You're married?” Harry asked confused. “I didn't know.”

“You wouldn't have,” Draco said quietly. “I think she's in danger.”

“Why would your wife be in danger, Malfoy?” Harry said as he reluctantly looked up.

“Because,” Draco said. “My father hates muggles.”

Harry sat in his office for a good hour staring at the picture in disbelief. Just when things
had pretty much gone back to normal between himself and Ron, when they had both forgotten about the
betrayal and hurt, she had to prance back into their lives, even if only in picture form. Harry
couldn't believe Draco had married the girl from the bar. Draco had married the girl that had
nearly destroyed Harry and Ron's friendship, and now Draco wanted Harry to find her.

“And the boy, your son?” Harry had asked Draco. Draco looked away for a brief second, and Harry
knew at the moment Draco wasn't telling him the complete truth.

“Wherever she is, he'll be,” Draco said. Harry wondered silently what Draco was hiding, but
didn't push matters. Draco didn't press Harry to find Mrs. Malfoy and his son, just Mrs.
Malfoy. It was confusing to Harry that Draco wouldn't be more concerned about the well being of
young Malfoy partially muggle born or not.

Harry regretting telling Draco that he'd keep it quiet, the case Draco had commissioned him
for. Harry knew Hermione would insist they stay quiet, despite the conflict that was already
brewing up between the heart and head of Harry Potter. She was always a woman of her word, and he
knew that her word would come first before everything. Knowing Hermione, she wouldn't have
taken the job to start with, actually. If Ron found out, it would surely kill him. He had loved
Addy with all his heart, and for her to leave him standing at the altar was unforgiveable. Ron
still hadn't really trusted girls since then.

“What are you reading so intently?” Ron asked as he reentered their shared office. Harry sighed
and closed the folder in what he hoped was a nonchalant way. Harry hoped Ron wouldn't perceive
it as evasive. Luckily Ron didn't seem to notice anything.

“Just another muggle married to a wizard missing persons' case,” Harry said as Ron held out
a brown paper bag to him.

“Thought you'd need something,” Ron said. Harry took the sandwich and immediately felt
guilty. He felt like blurting out the case and the girl, but he had promised Malfoy and while he
wasn't fond of Draco Malfoy, Harry was bound by his word. As much as he hated keeping the
secret from Ron, and as much as he knew it wouldn't come of any good, he was bound.

“Look, Hermione seems to have another one crying,” Harry said changing the subject. Ron and he
both looked to the young man who was bawling like a small child while Hermione stood above him.
Harry suppressed a grin. Something about the way she was such an authority figure really made him
excited. He blushed as Hermione glanced up and smiled at him.

“How in the world does she always manage that?” Ron asked shaking his head. “I usually get the
ones who start laughing at me. Must be the freckles.”

“Yeah,” Harry said grinning. “You shouldn't have let George connect the dots.”

“Remember, I was the one who was against it,” Ron laughed as he took a bite of his sandwich,
nearly nipping his finger in the whole deal. Harry laughed and for a moment, it was like the good
old days.

“Hey there,” Hermione said as she entered their office. “Looks like I broke another one down.
Seems to have sold his father out to the New Uprising.”

“Muggle born?” Harry asked as Hermione leaned against his desk.

“Oddly, no,” Hermione said as she store yet another pencil in her hair. Harry knew by the
day's end, she'd have her entire collection of pencils stored in her hair like chopstick
poking out every which way and she'd spend ten minutes carefully pulling them all out to not
mess her always perfect hair.

“So, what happened to Magnus Tate?” Harry asked curiously as Hermione's fingers tapped the
desk next to her hip.

“Jonas Tate used a potion on him, spelled his powers away, and locked the old man in the attic
of the house,” Hermione said shaking her head. “Poor thing is up in St. Mungo's for
malnutrition and dehydration. The healers think they should be able to right the power balance and
a pepper upper potion should have him back on his feet in no time. I'm going to recommend that
Jonas Tate does six months in Azkaban.”

“Sounds fair,” Harry agreed. Hermione nodded, satisfied that Harry agreed with her. She pulled
herself off of his desk and headed to her own as Luna joined the group. Harry glanced up to see
Ron's face turn the slightest shade of pink as Luna smiled at him and Harry fought to suppress
a grin. Ron was always that way with girls. It was comical to a degree, though Harry did feel bad
for his friend. His confidence in women was shaken by that damn temptress with the impossible blue
eyes.

“Bugger,” Harry swore as his eyes fell on the file again. Luna and Hermione glanced up at him
but said nothing about the fact that Harry had resorted to talking to his file folders again. It
had paid off once, talking to the actual folder, and they assumed that he was trying again to
elicit a response from the inanimate object. Stranger thing have happened in the wizarding
world.

“Look, Harry, I know I said that I'd run the late with Hermione,” Ron interrupted bashfully
scratching the back of his head. “But, see, there is this Quidditch practice that I want to take
Tabitha to see, she's a big Quidditch fan, and I'd have to leave now to take her.”

“Go ahead, go,” Harry said quickly. Ron clapped him on the back and headed out of the office
without another word. Hermione looked up from her desk.

“You know, I know you feel guilty, but you have to quit cutting him so much slack,” Hermione
said quietly. “That was years ago, you guys threw a few punches, didn't talk for a few months,
and now it is all good. Water under the proverbial bridge as they would say.”

“Not exactly,” Harry said shaking his head. He signaled to Luna to step out and Harry held out
the Malfoy file. Hermione took the file and flipped through it, reading the file. She picked up the
picture of Addison Malfoy.

“She married him?” Hermione asked with a look of displeasure on her face. “He married her?” “So
it would seem,” Harry said as he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose
tiredly.

“But she's a muggle and he hates muggles!” Hermione protested as she snapped the file
closed. “Apparently he's had a change of mind,” Harry said quietly.

“Bullocks! Malfoy's never had a change of heart or head,” Hermione said shaking her head.
Harry chuckled.

“Such language, Ms. Granger,” Harry teased gently. Hermione's cheeks blushed slightly.

“Well, it is, and I know you agree with me,” Hermione said.

“I do, you know I do. You're always right about these things,” Harry said grinning. Hermione
blushed.

“I, uh,” Hermione said quietly.

“Anyways,” Harry cut her off loudly, sparing them both the awkward moment. “What do you think I
should do?”

“You mean about Ron?” Hermione clarified.

“Yeah,” Harry said. Hermione handed him back the file.

“Well, you told Malfoy that you wouldn't tell anyone but me, but I think Ron's bound to
find out. I mean, I know he's not exactly the quickest in our six-some, but assuming you find
her and have to bring her in for a final report, I think he's going to notice,” Hermione
said.

“So, should I tell him?” Harry asked. Hermione looked at him apologetically.

“I know you gave Malfoy your word, but I think it's only fair to at least spare him the
heartache and give him the heads up,” Hermione said. She shrugged. “It's your call, though, and
I'll stand by whatever decision you make.”

“As always,” Harry laughed as he checked his watch. “So, you want to grab dinner while we go
over the file.”

“I thought that was what we just did,” Hermione said raising an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying
to get out of going to your parent's house?”

“No,” Harry lied.

“It's been on the calendar for a month,” Hermione said. “If I have to drag you there myself,
you're going.”

“Super!” Harry said grinning as he grabbed his coat off the chair. “I'll pick you up at
seven.”

“Harry!” Hermione called as Harry practically sprinted out of the office. He waved and climbed
aboard the lift, not stopping until he reached his floo portal.

“H. Potter Residence, Abbotts Way,” Harry said as he threw a pinch of floo powder in the grate
and stepped in quickly.

Harry fell on his face, his glasses flying off his face. He swore and jumped up quick, looking
around to make sure no one else saw it. He laughed, realizing that Ron wasn't going to be home.
He quickly retrieved his glasses and shoved them back on his face, figuring Hermione could make
them right when he went to pick her up. He quickly showered and changed, throwing a load of towels
in the wash while he straightened up the flat a bit. He didn't want Hermione to come over to
floo to his parents with the place looking a mess.

“What about your bedroom?” He asked himself allowed. Neville's fanged whatever it was
growled from its clay pot. At least Neville cleaned up after himself. Had Harry not still been
plagued with so much guilt, he would have already gotten on to Ron about his sloppy habits. Harry
glanced at Ron's door, swearing that he could see green gas seeping from under the door. Harry
had never been more thrilled about being on the other side of the three-bedroom flat.

Harry glanced around his room. It looked a little sloppy, books stacked on the floor in a corner
instead of on the bookshelf. He glanced at his wand and pointed them at the books. One by one, he
tidied his room just in case. He glanced at his watch again and swore. He was going to be late if
he didn't go right then. He apparated to Hermione's house, landing in the hallway outside
of her door. He was glad she lived in a magical up rise, as opposed to the flat that he and the
boys shared in the muggle district. He knocked on her door.

“Harry, what have you done to your glasses again?” Hermione laughed as she pulled out her wand.
“Reparo.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said. He grinned. “I missed my landing going home.”

“Let's get going, you're going to make us late,” Hermione insisted. “And you know how
much I hate being late.”

“I do,” Harry said as Hermione grabbed a casserole dish. “Is that your mother's potato
casserole?”

“It is,” Hermione said proudly. Harry laughed and peeked under the lid, Hermione's slapping
his hand lightly. “Harry James Potter, get out of there!”

“You know how much I love your mom's recipe,” Harry grinned.

“So, do you want to lead or follow on the side along apparation?” Hermione asked him. Harry
offered her his arm which she took gently.

“I'll lead,” Harry said as they apparated to just inside Harry's apartment. “Ok, so
let's floo over there.”

“Gotcha,” Hermione said. “I understand why your mom doesn't like people just popping in, but
I'd think the floo network would be more bothersome.”

“Nah, she has it linked to so few places,” Harry said shaking his head. He grabbed Hermione by
the hand and threw a pinch of floo powder into the grate from the ceramic container on the mantel.
“Potter Manor, Westchester.”

“Harry, dear, is that you?” A voice called from one of the rooms near where Harry and Hermione
landed.

“Yes, mum,” Harry called as he brushed some soot off of Hermione. She also was brushing soot off
herself as Lily walked into the room. Harry had to admit, it always caught him off guard. She
looked younger than Harry did, even though chronologically she was twenty years older. She was
proud of her body, though it had come at a cost. Sure, her body had aged now just 30 years total,
but it had been at great cost.

“Hermione, honey, you came,” Lily said laughing as she hugged them both. She stepped back and
gazed at the son who looked too much like her deceased husband to not remind her. She had spent the
years between her `death' and Lord Voldemort's death stuck in limbo. When Lord Voldemort
died by Harry's hand, when he really died for good, Lily was released from Limbo looking the
same she did when their family was attacked. It had been shocking, to say the very least.

“Mrs. Potter, I brought potato casserole,” Hermione said nudging past Harry to pull him from his
thoughts. Harry had hoped his father would have returned when his mother did, but James Potter
couldn't. James Potter was dead, just like Sirius was dead, just as Remus had died with Tonks.
Lily had put herself between Harry and Lord Voldemort. She should have died, but she didn't and
yet her willingness protected Harry.

“That's wonderful, Hermione, but please, call me Lily,” Lily said as she draped her arm
across her son's shoulders. “We have two special guests for dinner tonight, Harry. You brought
Hermione and I have a friend over, as well.”

“Please no,” Harry whispered as the stepped into the parlor to see Severus Snape standing there,
looking very much out of place in his muggle clothes. Hermione kicked him.

“Be nice,” Hermione mouthed to him as Lily pulled away to hand the casserole to the house
elf.

“But its Snape,” Harry mouthed back.

“Harry Potter. Hermione Granger,” Severus drawled slowly as he greeted them. Harry made a face
of displeasure behind his mother's back.

“Severus, you must tell the story of your escape from the belly of Nagini again,” Lily insisted
as she poured them all a drink. Harry downed it in one gulp and refilled it.

“Perhaps another night, Lils,” Severus said in an almost taunting voice the way he said her name
so sweetly. Harry glared at the man, the man he had a hard time liking. Sure, it was easy to have
forgiven and even embraced Severus' sacrifice when Harry thought that the man was dead, snake
food for the obscenely large snake, but when Severus showed up unconscious at St. Mungo's Harry
was less than thrilled.

“Harry, you might want to go easy on those,” Hermione said as Harry refilled his drink. Harry
hesitated and replaced the stopper to the bottle. He was already feeling warm and fuzzy from the
two drinks and he didn't want to make a royal ass of himself.

Dinner was relatively quiet and uneventful. Harry sat beside Hermione, glaring at the man who
was physically too old for his mother, nearly seventeen years spanning between them. Severus seemed
quite at home talking to Lily and eating off of Harry's grandparent's china. Harry felt a
little ill at ease at the thought that Severus and his mother might get close again. He hardly
touched his food.

“Harry, are you feeling ok?” Lily asked as she crossed to his side of the table. It was so
confusing. Lily was his mother, but she physically was only five years older than him, frozen at
age twenty one for seventeen years.

“I'm ok,” Harry lied. He looked at Hermione for support.

“Harry just took on a big case at work, and I know he and I need to dissect it,” Hermione
offered. “Maybe we should call it an early night, Harry.”

“Yeah,” Harry said quietly. He thought about leaving his mother and Snape alone suddenly and
shuddered. He knew he was being immature, but he didn't want his mother and Snape becoming more
than friends. Harry opened his mouth to protest but Hermione had already covered his mouth with her
hand.

“Thank you so much for dinner, Mrs. Potter,” Hermione said as she ushered Harry toward the
fireplace.

“Any time, dear,” Lily said as she hugged Hermione tightly. “And, Hermione, call me Lily.
I'm not so old that you need to be so formal. After all, you're practically family.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said as she nodded. Lily hugged Harry, patting his shoulder as she did
so.

“Make sure you're getting enough sleep, Harry. Your dad used to run himself into the ground,
and you don't want to come down with something,” Lily mothered. Harry grinned and nodded.

“Yes, ma'am,” Harry replied. Lily kissed his cheek and waited until the two disappeared into
the fireplace before returning to her guest.

“Why him?” Harry asked as he kicked the coffee table, sending the remote control flying under
the couch.

“Your mother and Severus have history. They grew up together,” Hermione offered gently as she
retrieved the remote and returned it to its place. He had been throwing a mini tantrum since they
returned from Potter Manor twenty minutes prior.

“I don't like it,” Harry snarled as he glared at his reflection in the mirror.

“Your dad has been dead for twenty five years, Harry,” Hermione said as she rested her hand on
his shoulder. He looked at her in the reflection of the mirror. “Your mother has to move on. It
doesn't mean she loves your father any less.”

“I know,” Harry said as his throat tightened slightly. “I just don't like it being him.”

“I agree, it's disturbing,” Hermione offered slightly as Harry momentarily rested his cheek
on her hand. For a moment they stood like that before they realized how close they were. Hermione
retreated quickly to the couch.

“So, we agree,” Harry said a little louder than expected. “I owl Malfoy and let him know I'm
bringing my whole team up to speed on this missing persons case.”

“Yeah, agreed. Ron's going to find out sooner or later,” Hermione said, embracing the change
in subject. “It'll hurt less if it is sooner and comes from you.”

“Swell,” Harry laughed. “I look forward to that wonderful, awkward conversation.”

“Well, I don't think there is much more that we can do tonight,” Hermione said yawning. She
stood and stretched.

“Do you want me to apparate you back to your place?” Harry asked. Hermione smiled and shook her
head.

“With the way you were knocking them back, I'd feel more comfortable knowing you were safe
at home,” Hermione said.

“Awe, you want to tuck me in, Mum?” Harry teased. Hermione blushed furiously and shook her
head.

“Good night, Harry,” she told him. “See you in the morning.”

Harry watched the spot she had apparated from for a few minutes before throwing himself onto the
couch and putting his feet up on the table. He glanced at the file resting open beside him and
shook his head, ignoring the television that he had snapped on for background noise.

He murmured sleepily as he closed his eyes, just for a second, “I swear, Addy, what have you
done?” With that, Harry fell into a deep, dreamless sleep on the couch.

-->