Harry Potter and the Eighth Year

DimeandQuarter

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 11/07/2008
Last Updated: 29/01/2010
Status: in_progress

Voldemort is dead, and Harry Potter must adjust to a life without The Dark Lord and Death Eaters hunting him down. Will Harry be able to settle down and live a simple, happy life, or is life just now finally beginning? Fic picks up after the Battle of Hogwarts from Deathly Hallows (the epilogue is happily excluded from this universe), and will follow canon 'ships at the start. Rating is for later chapters.

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Chapter One

3. Chapter Two

4. Chapter Three

5. Chapter Four

6. Chapter Five

7. Chapter Six

8. Chapter Seven

1. Prologue

Author's Note: Bonjour PK readers. This is my first fic I have ever written, so hopefully it won't be a total bust. I originally pitched this story as a challenge for other writers over in the forums, but decided I wanted to write it myself. So yeah, there's your background info.

Like its says in the summary, the fic does start off directly after the final battle in DH, and thus, it will start off as Harry/Ginny and Hermione/Ron. There will be some moments of those ships in the beginning, but it does become Harry/Hermione, so don't fear. I try to be a realist when I write, and well, it's just stupid to break away from canon in the blink of an eye, no matter how much we disagree with it. That's enough from me, so now, onto the story.

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Saturday, May 2nd, 1998 - 3:00 PM

Hogwarts

Strolling around the grounds of Hogwarts Castle, all Harry Potter could feel was guilt. No thoughts of the future and its potential brightness seeped into his mind, only the drowning feeling of responsibility. In his eyes, he was responsible for the death of many - 54 to be precise - of his friends and supporters, dear friends such as Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Fred Weasley. Responsibility for those deaths created the guilt that consumes him.

It's all my fault, he thought to himself. Fred, Tonks, Colin… Lupin… they're all dead because of me.

Continuing to wallow in his self-pity, Harry walked along the grounds, noticing spots of grass stained in blood, the blood of his fallen comrades. In the distance, Harry could see the tomb of Albus Dumbledore, surprisingly unharmed from the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry had not yet put the Elder Wand back in his tomb, but in due time, it will be put to rest; the lure of its power will diminish and no one will ever seek to gain it again.

With one final look at his mentor's tomb, Harry turned on his heel, now facing the ruined castle. Hogwarts, to Harry, looked to be in a state beyond repair. What will happen now? All the students who've been attending Hogwarts, will attend Hogwarts, where will they go? Hogwarts has been seemingly destroyed, he continued to think to himself.

His legs and feet seemingly on autopilot, Harry started walking towards the broken castle. No one else was outside the castle yet, the occupants of Hogwarts either eating, sleeping, or recovering in the Hospital Ward. To Harry, it was strange that people were still sleeping at this time in the afternoon, but after all, the final battle and celebrations did last until past daybreak. Ministry officials will arrive later, Harry knew, to further investigate and examine the downfall of the former Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. The simple fact of knowing that the Ministry would be coming to Hogwarts later, with Kingsley Shacklebolt as its new Minister, reminded Harry of the most important piece of knowledge to be gained from this entire disaster: He's gone, dead. Voldemort is dead.

As Harry reached the doors, those two sentences reverberating in his mind, a second thought came to mind, one he never truly thought of before: What now? For Harry Potter, life after Lord Voldemort never seemed plausible. Just over fifteen hours ago, The Boy-Who-Lived walked under his Invisibility Cloak to the Forbidden Forest, ready to face his death. Now, he stood at the castle doors of Hogwarts, about to embark on a new journey; Harry Potter would get to live his life.

I get to live my life, Harry thought again. …What in the hell do I do from here, then? Before Harry's inner thoughts could answer that question for him, the doors opened in front of him, his two best friends standing where the closed doors once were. The male was Ron Weasley, a lanky red-head sporting a maroon jumper and worn jeans. To his left, was Hermione Granger; Hermione, Ron's now-definite girlfriend, wore a grey jumper over a purple Oxford shirt and blue jeans. While Ron's expression was that of content and happiness, Hermione looked nervous. Even though Ron lost a brother in battle, the joy of Voldemort's death was too much for the youngest Weasley boy to mourn, at least for now.

“Hey mate,” Ron said. “What are you doing out here?”

“I don't know, just walking, I guess. I can't be in Hogwarts, with… with the dead,” Harry finished after stammering. He shoved his hands into his oversized jeans, and looked down at his feet, the moment feeling awkward for him.

Hermione, seeing Harry's discomfort, entered the conversation. “Harry, you know this is not your fault.”

“Isn't it? Isn't every death from last night my fault?” Harry asked, a hint of anger in his tone. “I `led' everyone into battle last night, and because of it, Remus' and Tonks' child will grow up not knowing what it's like to have parents! Ron, because of me, you lost a brother!” After a moment of silence, Harry continued, saying, “It's my fault, all mine.”

Ron and Hermione shared nervous looks before Ron said, “Mate, we all knew what the consequences were. We all fought, we all risked our life last night; not for the bloody Chosen One, but because it was right.”

“But thing the thing is, Harry, because of you, this war is over," Hermione said, trying to be the voice of reason. "Because of you, no one else will have to die at the hands of Voldemort. So if you're going to blame yourself for the deaths of everyone last night, then at least know it was your actions that saved everyone else standing. If you didn't kill Voldemort, we'd all be dead. He and the Death Eaters would've killed us all; you saved us.”

Hermione smiled at Harry, the kind of smile that could warm even the coldest of hearts. As horrible as he felt for “causing” the deaths of many last night, he did, in essence, save everyone else who was still alive now. And, most of all, the war was over. The Light had won, and Voldemort was no more. His reign of terror was over.

The three stood in silence for several moments before Harry shifted his gaze back up to Ron and Hermione. Harry smiled at the two, silently thanking them… for everything. Without saying a word, the three started to walk the grounds of Hogwarts, Harry in the middle of the two, neither of the three saying much throughout the walk. There was a time for talking, but right now, silence was simply the best conversation for them. Each could reflect on his or her own thoughts, and wonder what was next to come.

Finally, after circling the lake twice, the three started to walk back towards the castle. It was during that final stretch that Harry brought up the question he had been contemplating before Ron and Hermione joined him outside of the castle. Breaking the silence, Harry suddenly stopped and asked the two, “What comes next?”

The three all shared glances with one another before Ron said, “I don't know, mate.”

Hermione, however, had a much more thoughtful, and better, answer to Harry's question. “We move on, Harry. First, we mourn and bury our loved ones. We give everyone the proper burial they deserve, and we rebuild. The Ministry of Magic will have to be rebuilt from the ground up, and Hogwarts will - quite literally - as well.”

“But Hermione, look at the place!” Ron exclaimed as he pointed his arm up at the castle. “Hogwarts has been completely destroyed! Statues were blown to pieces, professors probably died, and the walls were blown up too. Hogwarts is gone; no matter how much you loved the place and its library, I think they'll have to build a whole new school.”

Hermione glared at Ron, not appreciating his accidental jab at her. “I don't want Hogwarts rebuilt just so I can revisit the library again, Ronald!” Hermione snapped at Ron. “And in case you're forgetting, Hogwarts is a magical castle! The school came to life last night to aid us in battle, and it can be repaired. Statues can be repaired, walls can be rebuilt. It will take work, but Hogwarts will reopen in September. I promise you that.”

Ron opened his mouth to try and apologize to Hermione, not having meant to offend her, but Harry, curious and mainly excited at the thought of Hogwarts reopening, spoke before Ron could. “How do you know this, Hermione?” Harry asked, knowing she'd have an answer. “Do you really think Hogwarts can just be repaired that quickly?”

“Of course I do,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “I, well, I already spoke with Professor McGonagall about it earlier.” Hermione blushed after seeing Harry and Ron's incredulous looks at her. “I didn't seek her out like it was the first thing on my mind! I just ran into her in the halls, so I asked her about Hogwarts' future. She seemed adamant that the place would reopen, but only after many hours of labor to repair everything.”

“Well then, I don't know about you two, but I will help rebuild it,” Harry said simply. “Hogwarts was my home, so if I can help keep it open for others, I'll play my part.” Ron nodded his head at Harry while Hermione smiled, impressed and happy with Harry's comment. Cupping his arm around Hermione's shoulder, Ron said, “We'll be right there by your side, mate. Always.”

The three reached the doors to the castle. Harry and Ron each opened a door before the three walked in. Harry felt slightly better than before he met up with Ron and Hermione, but was still filled with grief for those lost and uncertainty for the future. However, for the first time in probably forever, time was on Harry's side. There was no Dark Lord chasing him down, no Horcruxes to find - nothing - only time: time to mourn those lost, time to rebuild the fallen structures of the Wizarding world, time for Harry Potter to live his life.

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2. Chapter One

Author's Note: Yeah… about that extremely long delay. I was hoping that I would have a beta to help me out with this fic, and was waiting to have said beta read through all my chapters before posting a new one. That never happened, and my motivation just went down the crapper. However, I am itching to write again, and will be continuing this story beta-less. However, I am in the hunt for one, having just e-mailed someone who was open to beta'ing. If anyone else is interested, feel free to contact me, either PMing me on the boards (My name there is also DimeandQuarter) or e-mailing me (DimeandQuarter@yahoo.com).

Nevertheless, back I am, and hopefully everything shall run smoothly.

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Friday, May 8 - 4:00 PM

Soho, London

Despite it being a May afternoon, the temperature chilled to just over 5 degrees Celsius; the wind howled loudly while heavy droplets of rain rushed to the awaiting ground below. A man stood on the ground in a black cloak, the rain soaking his body and impeding his view from his spectacles. The weather matched the mood of Harry James Potter, as well as the rest of his fellow mourners. A wizard minister delivered a eulogy for the deceased Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Ted Tonks, but Harry was oblivious to the sounds protruding from the minister's voice. Instead, memories of a worn man teaching him to fight Dementors and cast a Patronus Charm, of the man helping him discover the truth to his parents' betrayal and death, of the man showing pictures of his new child, clouded Harry's mind. Also, a woman changing her face and hair color at will, fighting at the Department of Mysteries, and holding her husband and child played in his memory. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks were friends, friends now fallen because of Lord Voldemort.

Coming out of his reverie, Harry noticed Ron Weasley wrapping his arm around a crying Hermione Granger's shoulder. Ron looked somber himself, but Hermione could not hold back the tears. Harry saw many familiar faces in the crowd of mourners: the entire Weasley family, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Andromeda Tonks and her grandchild, Teddy, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Rubeus Hagrid, Pomona Sprout, Poppy Pomfrey, various Order of the Phoenix members, as well as schoolmates of Harry, such as Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Dean Thomas, to name a few. Harry cast his gaze back to the girl on his left, still crying. Hermione slowly raised her head, looking to her right. Harry and Hermione made eye contact, and the sight of Hermione crying broke Harry's will. After having fought back tears throughout the whole funeral, remembering the haunting memories of the fallen and the sight of his best friend crying, Harry silently began to weep as well. Seeing Harry cry, Hermione tentatively reached out her right hand, grasping Harry's left hand. The two shared one last sad look into each others eyes before focusing back on the wizard minister, who was concluding the funeral for the three fallen.

As the funeral ended and three tombstones appeared out of nowhere at the heads of the graves, the circle of mourners headed away from the graves. Ron released Hermione's shoulder from his grip and started to walk away; Hermione tried to follow him, but was held in place as Harry remained stationery, his firm grip on her hand keeping her there with him. Needing to stay at the graves for now, Harry looked at Hermione and released her hand, the act symbolically telling her to go with Ron. Hermione rubbed her right phalanges against her palm carefully before walking over to Ron. “You go, Ron,” Hermione said to him softly. “Go be with your family; I don't want Harry to be alone, not right now.”

Nodding his head in agreement, Ron embraced Hermione and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before turning on his heel and walking away from the graveyard, off to join his family. Hermione watched Ron walk to his family, and once he reached them, they all gave quick goodbyes to the fellow mourners before Disapparating back to The Burrow. After seeing them depart, Hermione walked back to Harry, who was now squatting in front of Lupin's grave. Hermione placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, startling him. He turned his head back to see Hermione, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. “Sorry, Hermione,” Harry said. “I wasn't expecting anyone to stay in the rain.”

“I didn't mean to startle you,” Hermione replied. “I just… didn't want you to be alone, I guess.” Hermione looked at Harry, sadly, and Harry returned the look with an equal amount of sadness. It'd been a sad and stressful week for many. After the celebrations wore off for the thousands of witches and wizards who celebrated, the grief returned and preparations were made for the burying of loved ones. Harry, Hermione, and Ron, as well as other Hogwarts students, attended the funeral of Colin Creevey earlier in the week, as well as the funeral of Lavender Brown. Lavender did not die during the Battle of Hogwarts, but the day after; during the battle, Lavender plummeted from a balcony and was attacked by Fenrir Greyback afterwards. There was feeble hope that she would survive her injuries, but her condition worsened throughout Saturday, May 2nd, before eventually succumbing to her death on Sunday. Of the trio, Ron was especially shaken up by her death. Despite their relationship long over, she still had a special place in his heart, it seemed. Ron was especially moody and snappy after he learned of her death, as well as on the day of her funeral.

Harry and Hermione stayed in silence while the rain soaked them for what seemed like hours, simply staring at the graves of Tonks and Lupin, as well as Ted. Despite Ted's death months before the Battle of Hogwarts, his body was never returned by the Snatchers who killed him, and no official funeral was held for him. Harry hardly knew Ted, but was still appreciative of him for what he did for Harry and others while on the run from the Death Eaters. Finally, after squatting in the rain for so long in silence, Harry began to speak. But before he did, he first stood up and walked over to Ted's grave so he was directly in front of it. “I know that I never really knew you,” Harry began, “but I just wanted to say thank you. You helped heal my injuries this past summer, and put your life on the line for me and the entire Order. Without you, I may have died, and I thank you for everything you did for me, my friends, and the Order of the Phoenix.”

Harry stood up, and then moved to the middle grave, the grave of Nymphadora Lupin nee Tonks. Hermione was currently finishing saying something to her, so Harry stood back and let her. Once she was done, she looked at Harry, tears in her eyes again. Harry gave her his hand and used it to help her up to her feet. Harry then took Hermione's place in front of Tonks' grave, and began to speak to her as well. “I'm going to miss you, Tonks,” Harry began simply. “You were a good friend, and always knew how to make me laugh if I needed it. You helped save my life in the Department of Mysteries, and helped me out on the train the following Fall too. I'm happy that you got to marry Lupin, although I wish you had more time with him. I'm so sorry you'll never get to raise Teddy, but I promise you, I'll make sure he's raised right. Your mum will raise him, and I'll do my best to be a good godfather to him.”

Harry got to his feet a third time, and walked to the left most grave, that of Remus'. Hermione was already kneeling in front of his grave, muddying her cloak and pants. Tears flowing from her eyes, Hermione said, quivering, “Professor Lupin, you were such a wonderful person. You were the greatest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor I ever had, and you taught me so much; I'm forever grateful for all of the skills you taught me. I would not have survived this war if it wasn't for your tutelage. I know you were happy with Tonks, and I hope you two stay happy in the after life. We'll all take care of your son for you, I promise. Thank you again, Professor, for everything. I love you.” Finishing her goodbye, Hermione shakily stood to her feet, and let Harry take her place in front of the grave.

Harry kneeled in front of the grave, still fighting back tears. “I just wanted to start out saying that I'm sorry for criticizing you earlier at Grimmauld, Lupin,” said Harry. “You're a good man, and were like a father to me. I learned a lot from you, both about my skills as a wizard and about life. I owe a lot to you, Remus, especially helping me discover the truth about my parents. I know you're upset that you'll never get to know your son, but you must be happy to be with your friends again too. Say `hello' to Padfoot and my parents for me.” Harry broke off, sniffling as tears started to seep from his eyes. Hermione comfortingly placed her hand on his shoulder, and Harry continued. “Like I told Tonks, I promise to help take care of Teddy in any way I can, and I'll be the best godfather I can. Thanks again, Lupin… I'll miss you.”

Having finished, Harry stood up to his feet, only to immediately be embraced by a sobbing Hermione. Harry returned her hug, wrapping his arms around her back and allowing Hermione to nuzzle her face into the crook of Harry's neck. The two stood there for several minutes, Hermione sobbing while Harry cried silently. Finally, the two released their embrace and looked at each other, not sure of what to do next. After a few seconds of silence, Hermione spoke. “Let's go back to Grimmauld,” Hermione commanded. “We should dry off and get into new clothes.” Harry nodded his head in agreement and the two walked away from the graves after one last look at the tombstones. As they walked away, Hermione wrapped herself around Harry's left arm for comfort. Once they reached the gates of the cemetery, the two Disapparated away.

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Grimmauld Place

Harry and Hermione Apparated onto the front steps of Grimmauld Place, and quickly entered Harry's house to escape from the rain. Once inside, Harry led the two to his room that Kreacher had help make for him. Harry took quarters in the master bedroom of Grimmauld Place, deciding to keep Sirius' and Regulus' rooms as they were, untouched. Once the two got into Harry's room, they silently stripped their cloaks, leaving them in just their Muggle clothing. Harry was dressed in a white long-sleeve dress shirt and black dress pants, while Hermione wore the same outfit, but a black shirt instead of white. Harry quickly summoned two towels, and gave one to Hermione before pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and a Gryffindor sweatshirt so he could give them to Hermione. “You can dry off and change into them,” said Harry. “I'll go change elsewhere and ask Kreacher to make some soup.” Hermione nodded her head in agreement, and Harry quickly grabbed his towel, a gray hooded sweatshirt, and black baggy sweatpants before exiting the room.

The two reconvened in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place fifteen minutes later, where Kreacher was happily serving bowls of soup to the two. “Thank you, Kreacher,” Harry said to Kreacher as the house elf finished ladling the soup for the two. Kreacher bowed to Harry. “Thank you very much, Kreacher,” Hermione said as Kreacher bowed at her, although he paused for several seconds before doing so. While he wasn't nasty towards Hermione anymore, he was still chilly to her at times.

Harry and Hermione proceeded to eat their bowls of soup in silence, occasionally making eye contact with each other as they ate. After filling themselves up, the two left for the revamped drawing room, where they sat on the couch in front of the fire place. Before doing so, they both made cups of hot cocoa for themselves; Kreacher offered to make the cocoa for them, but Harry respectfully declined. On the couch in front of the fire, Harry sat at one end of the couch while Hermione sat on the opposite side, each sitting with their feet up on the couch and facing each other. Hermione tucked her legs under her, and slipped a stray hair behind her ear while sipping from her cup. After taking a sip, Hermione looked up at Harry, and immediately noticed signs of discontent.

“What's wrong?” Hermione asked him. Clearly, Hermione knew that there were several things probably bothering Harry, but there could be something specific he wanted or needed to talk about, she figured.

Harry stared at Hermione for several seconds, contemplating his answer. “I just... I'm tired, Hermione,” he answered.

“I'm tired too, Harry,” she replied honestly. “This week, it has just been so stressful, and I'm still having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that it's really over. Just weeks ago, you, Ron, and I were camping in the woods, and now, Voldemort is dead. It's been so much so quickly… it's overwhelming.”

“I agree,” Harry agreed bluntly. “Today was a lot harder than I expected, and I don't know why. I mean, I saw Remus with my parents and Sirius just after he had died. I knew he was dead and had come to terms with it, but today, being there, seeing Tonks' mum hold Teddy, seeing you cry… I just couldn't hold it in anymore.” Harry lowered his head as he finished, embarrassed with himself for admitting to have cried again.

Hermione looked at Harry lowering his head in shame, and immediately used her right hand to lift Harry's head back up, so they were staring eye-to-eye again. “Oh, Harry,” she sighed. “You don't have to be ashamed to cry. It's natural to mourn the loss of our loved ones, Harry. We've done it already this week, and we'll do it again tomorrow.”

Tomorrow morning was the funeral for Fred Weasley. “I know tomorrow will be hard for the Weasley's,” Harry said. “They are probably preparing for the funeral now. Are you sure you don't want to be with Ron tonight? This will probably be just as hard for him tonight as tomorrow.”

Hermione thought of a reply before answering. “Ron will be fine. I'm sure the Weasley's would rather keep tonight more of a family gathering, anyways.”

Harry couldn't help but smirk at Hermione. “Hermione, you've known the Weasley's for seven years; Ron is your boyfriend! You are family for the Weasley's.”

Hermione scoffed. “Being Ron's girlfriend doesn't make me a part of Ron's family. If I'm a part of that Weasley family, it's because of my friendship with Ron and everyone else. Same with you.” Harry looked at Hermione quizzically. “You know! You were a part of the Weasley family before you ever started dating Ginny.”

Harry nodded, getting the point. He shifted uncomfortably, and sensing Harry's discomfort, she prodded more on that topic, wanting to get Harry to open up to her again. “Now that the war is over, are you going to get back together with Ginny?”

Hermione thought the answer to that question would be an obvious “yes,” but Harry sat in silence for several moments, wondering what he wanted to say. “Honestly,” Harry began, “I'm not sure anymore. When we were out on the run, I missed Ginny, a lot. It was so great to see her again at Hogwarts, but this past week, it's all been a wake up call. Hermione, what do I really know about Ginny?”

The two looked at each other for several seconds, before Hermione answered. “Harry, you've known Ginny for years. You've fancied her without even being around her; you must care for her still!”

Harry bit his lower lip and scratched the side of his face. “I do care for Ginny, but I feel like I don't really know her. I know she likes Quidditch, and she's smart and funny and laid back, but I just don't know her like…” Harry cut himself off. He was going to finish by saying “like you” but deemed it inappropriate to say to Hermione. After all, Hermione was a sister to him, the girlfriend of his best mate.

Looking at Harry, studying him like a book from the library, Hermione knew Harry wanted to elaborate, but decided not to investigate further. Instead, Hermione stayed silent, allowing Harry to continue talking. “Ginny is a wonderful person, Hermione, I know she is. It's just… it almost feels like Ginny is a part of a life that is no longer connected to me. When I was with Ginny, everything felt normal. I wasn't Harry Potter: The Chosen One, I wasn't The Boy-Who-Lived; I wasn't even plain-and-simple Harry. I was just a regular wizard teenager: attending Hogwarts, playing Quidditch, going to classes, and having a girlfriend.”

Harry smiled the saddest of smiles, and Hermione felt Harry's pain. Placing her mug of cocoa on the floor next to the couch, she reached out and took Harry's hands. “Oh, Harry. I wish that life could be that simple for you, but we both know it isn't. No matter how much we both wish you didn't have to be Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, you will still always be Harry Potter, no matter what. You can't run from who you are; whether you're just Harry or The Chosen One, you're still Harry Potter.”

“And that's why I'm having second thoughts about Ginny,” Harry said. “I don't know though, maybe I'm just over analyzing everything, Hermione. Maybe I just need to give myself time to adjust to this new life ahead of me, ahead of all of us.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “You're right, Harry. Voldemort is defeated, and his Death Eaters are in Azkaban. His giants have retreated deep into the forests, and the Dementors have fled as well. The dark days are behind us; we all get to live our lives without looking over our shoulders. We are only seventeen and eighteen years old. The rest of our lives are ahead of us!”

“Yeah, you're right, Hermione. You always are though.” Harry laughed for a moment before becoming serious once again. “But maybe that's why I'm not in a rush to go back to Ginny. I'm seventeen years old; I have no clue what I want to do with my future. If Ginny and I are meant to get back together, then in the future, we will,” Harry finished.

The two sat in silence for several moments, Harry draining the contents of cocoa into his mouth. Harry, like Hermione previously, set his cup onto the carpet next to the couch. Their eyes locked onto each other moments later and simply stared at each other. The two stayed in silence for several minutes until Hermione broke her gaze from Harry's eyes. “I think tensions are just a little high right now, for all of us,” Hermione hypothesized. “Ron, you, and I, we've been through so much this past year. Our lifestyle changed so dramatically being on the run, and now that everything is over, we just need time to settle down again. Plus, with the funerals, it's just stressful and hard on us all. We all lost loved ones, but really, it could've been worse. We all could have lost a lot more loved ones: friends, family… everyone.”

Hermione lowered her head a bit, slightly embarrassed by making such a morose statement. Harry, however, seemed to agree, nodding his head at Hermione. “As sadistic as that is,” Harry began, “you are absolutely right, Hermione. Losing Lupin and Tonks in the final battle was, and is, hard. But to think, there are so many more people that could have died: Hagrid, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Ron… you.” Hermione anxiously looked at Harry, expecting Harry to stop with that, but he continued. “I thought I lost you once before, you know… at the Department of Mysteries. When Dolohov hit you with that curse, I thought you died. Hermione, that was thee scariest moment of my life.”

During his speech, Harry and Hermione somehow ended up holding each others hand, albeit very loosely. Who reached out for the others hand, they didn't know, all they knew was Harry's shocking confession while they held hands. The two stared at each other for several moments, something different in both of their eyes. However, a moment later, both snapped out of their state. Their hands pulled back to their respective bodies, and an awkward silence ensued. Harry was never the most up-front person in the world, so for him to suddenly blurt out that statement shook Hermione. She hadn't ever expected Harry to say something like that, especially about her. Apparently, neither did Harry, his face turning crimson from blushing. He quickly sat up from the couch, and grabbed both his and Hermione's mugs from the floor. “It's getting late,” Harry said flatly. “We need to be at The Burrow tomorrow morning for Fred's funeral. `Night, Hermione.” And without another word, Harry Disapparated down into the kitchen, dropped the mugs off, and headed up to his bedroom.

Hermione stayed sitting on the couch, Indian style, still surprised by Harry's touching words and sudden departure to move or say anything. What Harry said about her near death at the Department of Mysteries had touched her greatly; it was simply one of those heart-touching moments in life. After staying seated for several minutes, Hermione gave a deep sigh, and then sat up and headed up to a guest room in Grimmauld that Harry had already prepared for her.

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3. Chapter Two

Author's Notes: And here is Chapter 2, beta'ed by Laura. She's pretty much awesomesauce.

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Saturday, May 9, 1998 - 9:09 PM

The Burrow

From an outside perspective looking down towards the bottom of the hill at The Burrow, one would assume six carefree teenagers were enjoying a Saturday night around a fire. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood each sat on magically cushioned wooden logs, the six circling a campfire made by Hermione. Today was a hard day for the six, but mainly for Ron and Ginny. Today, their brother, Fred, had been laid to rest near an ancient maple tree on the family's land. All the Weasley's in attendance wept profusely except for Aunt Muriel, who simply stood at the funeral, trying to look somber, but ending up simply looking bored by the proceedings. The Weasley who took the funeral the hardest, apart from Fred's twin brother, George, was Percy. Having just reunited with his family before Fred was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts, he had missed out on ample amounts of time with Fred during his almost three year rift with the rest of the family. Many Hogwarts students, both former and present, attended the funeral, along with Order of the Phoenix members, Ministry of Magic employees, and the residents & staff of Diagon Alley.

After the funeral, however, attempts of a return to normalcy ensued. Tension and grief filled the air, but normalcy did indeed return, if only as a coping method. Molly Weasley cooked an enormous meal for her husband, children, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Lee Jordan, who was a close friend of Fred's. While the meal was a relatively somber affair, it soothed Molly that much was clear. Afterwards, George tried to cheer the family up with a plethora of jokes and tricks from the joke shop, with help from Lee along the way. George, despite being a wreck for the funeral, decided it was best not to mourn Fred's death, but honor him through humor. George, Lee, Ron, Ginny, Harry, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and even Hermione, Percy, Luna, and Neville all joined in a game of modified Quidditch, where each team played with 4 Chasers, 1 Keeper, and 1 Seeker, putting more emphasis on scoring than anything else. It was a soothing experience for those involved, and helped wash away at least some of the stress and grief that had consumed so many for the past week.

Now, sitting beside the campfire as the evening cools, the six made casual talk and roasted marshmallows over the fire, a Muggle act that Hermione happily suggested once she made the fire. Hermione, being Muggle Born, made the fire the Muggle way, instead of using magic. Ron seemed interested in the roasted marshmallows, devouring several of them; Luna, on the other hand, ate nothing, instead checking the fire for some critter known as Fire Gargans, little creatures that create campfires (her words of course). Ron however, seemed not to care about how the fire was made, just that he got more roasted marshmallows.

“Mmm, `Er-my-nee, `disifver'ood,” shouted Ron, marshmallow spraying out of his mouth everywhere. Hermione, disgusted by her face being attacked by flying bits of marshmallow, wiped her face off. “Thank you, Ronald,” her voice dripping with disgust as she said his name. “But I would appreciate it if you learn to actually swallow your food before you decide to talk!”

Ron blushed while everyone laughed. It really wasn't that funny, but just a simple example of that needed return to normalcy. As time wore on, the bag of marshmallows emptied, in part heavily due to Ron and his appetite, and the six simply talked the night away. Small, casual talk for the most part, but Neville eventually got onto the topic that had been asked by all six of them many times in the past week.

“What are your lots' plans?” Neville asked suddenly. There had been a moments break in silence of the Quidditch banter by Ron, and Neville took his opportunity. “Now that the war is over and all, what do you all plan on doing?”

“Well, that's obvious, isn't it?” Luna replied in question. “We go back to Hogwarts and finish school.”

“Not all of us can go back to school, Luna,” Ginny retorted. “Harry and the others aren't seventh years anymore.”

Hermione shook her head sideways in disagreement. “Actually Ginny, Harry, Ron, and I never started our seventh year of Hogwarts. We could go back to Hogwarts in September.”

Ginny, despite being proven wrong by Hermione, beamed in delight. “Oh, really?” Ginny asked. And then, looking directly at Harry, she said, “You three should come back to Hogwarts this September then!”

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks, mentally debating a Hogwarts return. Clearly, Hermione wanted to return for a seventh year. “It would be a wise decision, to return to Hogwarts,” she said. “Seventh year is a crucial year after all; it's NEWTs year!”

“Well, not always,” Luna chimed in. “Neville and the other seventh years never got to take their NEWTs this year; the fifth years didn't take their OWLs either. Hogwarts closed for the remainder of the year, remember? The only logical decision is to repeat our years.”

Ginny scoffed. “There is no way I am repeating a sixth year at Hogwarts,” Ginny stated roughly. “I am ready to be a seventh year and graduate.”

“Well I for one hope I can go back to Hogwarts,” Neville said honestly. “I figure I could always use an extra year of schooling, probably. But if my Hogwarts days are done, me and Gram already said we'd devote our time to helping rebuild the Ministry. It's what my parents would've done…”

Neville grew quiet, feeling awkward at the mention of his parents. Sitting beside Neville, Ginny placed a hand on his arm, trying to comfort Neville. Instead, Neville stood up from the log, brushing himself off. “I'm feeling rather tired,” he said suddenly. “I think I'll go back to Gram's house and kip off for the night. `Night everyone.”

And with that said, Neville started walking up the hill towards The Burrow, his hands in his pockets and his head dropped to the ground. “Poor Neville,” Hermione said. “I feel so bad for him about his parents.”

“It kind of seems like it's worse than them being dead,” added Ron, attempting to be insightful. “You know, they're there, but they're not there.” Hermione glared at Ron, not finding his comment appropriate at all. Looking over at Harry, she saw his jaw stiffen from Ron's comments, feeling angry and uncomfortable on the subject of absent parents.

Feeling the tension, Luna also sat up quickly as well. “Where are you going, Luna?” Ginny asked. Luna looked around blankly at the remaining four still sitting, and nodded her head to the departing Neville. “I think I'll go talk to Neville; I'm pretty good at helping people when they're sad and maybe I can help Daddy at the house then too. We're convinced that Ter Mittles are resting in the foundation of our house, and helping the decay process since our house was attacked by Death Eaters.”

Luna then turned on her heel and walked up the hill after Neville, leaving Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny looking at each other with blank looks on their faces. “Ter Mittles?” Ron asked, amused by Luna's antics. “Where in Merlin's name does she come up with this stuff?”

“Who knows,” Ginny said. “But it's those crazy-probably-made-up creatures she likes to talk about that make Luna as fascinating as she is.”

Ron smirked and nodded, agreeing with his sister. Harry chuckled along, while Hermione, never a fan of Luna's wild stories of “rare” creatures, crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, yet smiling nevertheless.

Silence fell on the four for a few moments, before Ginny spoke up again. “So what about you, Ron?” she asked.

“Huh?” replied Ron.

“You know,” Ginny said. “Hogwarts! Would you go back to Hogwarts in September? I mean, we know Hermione will want to go back to finish her NEWTs, and Harry will return, but what about you?”

Harry frowned at Ginny, catching the suggestive glance she gave him. While he likes Ginny and would love to spend time with her at Hogwarts if he went back, he would never go back to school just for a girlfriend. However, biting his tongue, Harry decided not to reply to Ginny's suggestive comment, and allowed Ron to answer.

“I don't know,” replied Ron, shrugging his shoulders in uncertainty. “It'd be wicked to go back and play Quidditch for another year, but I'm not sure how much I want to go back and study for another year.”

Hermione seemed ready to reply with a retort to Ron about how important it was to finish school, but Ron quickly started to talk again, not wanting to hear Hermione's argument. “You know what I think, though?” Ron asked. “I think we need to stop worrying about the future for right now. Whether we return to Hogwarts or not, that isn't until September. That means we have over three months of time off, and what we all need right now, is a holiday!”

Hermione seemed impressed by Ron's sudden declaration of going on holiday, while Harry and Ginny both seemed happy with that idea. Harry exclaimed, “That's excellent, Ron! You got any place in mind?”

Ron smirked and nodded his head in glee. “Not just any place, Harry,” Ron said smugly. “I'm talking a whole month holiday, in France, for the Quidditch World Cup!”

Ron smirked proudly. It's clear he had been bursting to say that ever since the six convened around the fire. Ginny covered her mouth to shield her shriek of delight, while Harry grinned in delight at Ron's proposal. “That's smashing, Ron!”

Hermione studied Ron's proud smirk for several moments before finally saying, “Ron, while I'm sure this would be a lot of fun, but how are you planning on having us all go to France for an entire month?”

Again, Ron simply smirked, smugly. “Ah, Hermione, ever the uninformed child,” Ron said, his voice dripping with jesting sarcasm. “You forget that we have a new Minister of Magic, and a Minister who's quite fond of Dad and the family after we helped out with the Order of the Phoenix from the very start of the war. Kingsley offered Dad tickets for the World Cup - not just the Finals like we got last time, but the whole Cup. Dad told me just before we all came down here; the entire family is invited, as are you two, Hermione and Harry.”

Ginny grinned like a Cheshire cat. “This is so cool!” Ginny squealed. “When does the Cup start?”

“The Group Stage starts on the tenth of June; Knockout Round starts the twenty-seventh of June; Finals is the twelfth of July,” stated Ron matter-of-factly. “So, you in?”

Ginny answered right away. “Of course I'm in, Ron,” she exclaimed. “An entire Quidditch World Cup, and a month in France! Wicked!”

“Count me in, Ron,” Harry said grinning, “should be great.”

Having looked somewhat downtrodden, Hermione remained silent, instead letting the three bask in their delight of going to the Quidditch World Cup. However, Ron eventually turned to Hermione, and noticed her silence. “What about you, Hermione?” he asked her. “You want to come, right?”

Hermione paused, trying to decide how she wanted to answer that question. Before she could, however, Mrs. Weasley intervened from the top of the hill. She screamed, “RON! GINNY! Get up here and help attend to the chickens, this instant!”

“Fucking hell,” Ron groaned. Ginny threw her head back in annoyance. However, they both stood up and started walking up the hill. Harry went to join them, but Ron cut him off. “You two just stay down here. We won't be long, and you know how Mum is if you try to help with my chores.”

Ron and Harry shared a smirk, and the two Weasley's trotted up the hill to The Burrow. Harry and Hermione sat in silence, Hermione still looking frustrated. “What's got your wand in a knot?” Harry asked her.

“Oh, it's nothing,” she lied.

Harry scoffed, and shook his head. “Come on, Hermione,” he said. “I know you well enough to know when you're lying. And right now, you're lying. So what's wrong?”

Hermione took a deep breath, and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “Well, I was planning on inviting Ron - and you too, of course - to Australia in June. Now that the war is over, I want to go and bring my parents back to England, where they belong. I miss them terribly, Harry…”

Tears started to overcome Hermione, as her speech broke off and she started to cry. However, she stopped quickly, not wanting to cry about the topic at hand. “I felt awful having to send my parents away, and it's a miserable thought, knowing that your parents don't even know they have a daughter.”

Hermione looked up at Harry, pleadingly, hoping for him to let her know she isn't pathetic for thinking this. Harry smiled at Hermione, “Going to Australia to get your parents would be better than going to a lifetime of Quidditch World Cups.”

Hermione beamed in delight at Harry. “Really!? You mean you'll go with me!? Oh, thank you, Harry!” Hermione jumped off of her log and leaped into Harry's arms, giving him one of her trademark hugs. Harry laughed as Hermione hugged him.

“Hermione, do you really think I would choose Quidditch over you?” he asked. “Going to get your parents is much more important than the World Cup. I'm sure Ron will feel the same way too.”

Hermione released her grip from Harry, and moved back over to her magically-cushioned log, still grinning in delight at Harry. Moments later, Ron and Ginny came trotting back down the hill, rejoining Harry and Hermione around the fire. Ron, however, no longer seemed in the mood to be around a fire anymore. Scratching at his sweater in irritation the whole time he got close to the fire, he continued to do so once he sat down on the log.

Harry eyed Ron quizzically; it was obvious he wasn't acting like himself. “Something wrong there, Ron?” he asked him, chuckling slightly.

“Oh, no; it's just really hot around the fire now,” he lied, still scratching around the neck of his jumper. “I think I just need to walk around in the cool air for a while, maybe walk through the woods.” Ron paused for a few seconds, before turning to look directly at Hermione. “Hey Hermione, want to go on a walk with me?”

Ron's intentions were clear to everyone around the fire. Ron wasn't hot around the fire, he did not want to simply “walk” through the woods, and he did not want Hermione just to walk with him; Ron wanted to snog. Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, finding his whole approach rather nauseating. Hermione, however, got up from her log, and joined her boyfriend. The two set off walking slowly towards the wooded regions of The Burrow, Ron looking over his shoulder to cast a suggestive wink to Harry and Ginny.

Studying the look between Ron and Ginny, Harry couldn't help but think the two planned this on their short time away from Harry and Hermione. Harry didn't mind the fact that Ginny wanted to be alone with him, he understood that. They are in something that resembles a relationship right now, and Harry does have feelings for her. However, the mere fact that the two conspired together to go off alone with their respected counterparts irritated Harry to no end. He wasn't sure why, but it simply irritated Harry to see Ron walking off into the woods with Hermione, casting suggestive glances back at the two.

Before Harry could even come out of his reverie, Ginny had moved over to the log Harry occupied, so the two were sitting side by side. Despite his irritation, he still couldn't help but think that she looked pretty. Ginny stared at him quietly for a few moments, before speaking suddenly. “I've missed you, you know,” she whispered quietly, “Not seeing you this past year… I missed you greatly.”

Ginny smiled sadly at Harry, and Harry half-smiled in return. “I missed you too, Gin. Being with you last year, it was a real nice change for me; I've never had someone to be with, like that.”

“Then what are we doing here, Harry?” she asked. “Ever since you killed You-Know-Who, you've been distant from me. We never talk - this is the first time we've been alone together since your birthday.”

Harry ran his right hand through his hair. Being on the run for so long, he had never had the time to cut it, and it had become increasingly shaggy. “Every thing's just complicated right now Ginny. I've been through a lot, and everything is just really stressful. I really am not sure if I want to be in a relationship with you right now or not Gin.”

Harry looked at Ginny apologetically, while Ginny tried not to show any hurt from Harry's words. After taking a few moments to collect her thoughts, she said, “I understand that you're going through a lot, Harry. I stayed loyal to you when you were gone, and I'll stay loyal to you now, even if this is up in the air.”

Harry frowned. “You don't need to do that, Gin,” he stated. “I don't know when I'll be ready to try and make a relationship work again, if ever. I just feel too numb emotionally to make a relationship work right now. If we tried, I know I'd only hurt you, and that is something I never want to do. You deserve to be with someone who can be with you; and right now, I can't.”

The two sat in silence for several moments before Ginny suddenly asked, half-smiling seductively, “Do you still fancy me, Harry?”

“Of course I still do, Ginny,” he told her. “You know that.”

Having heard that, Ginny suddenly swung her body sideways, swinging her left leg across hers and Harry's body, straddling him.

“Gin…” Harry started to say, but she cut him off, placing her index and middle fingers over his lips.

“Shh. Be quiet, Harry. You fancy me, and I fancy you. Right now, that's enough for me… enough for this.” Ginny removed her fingers from Harry's mouth, replacing them with her own mouth, kissing him passionately. Harry resisted, refusing to return her kiss. However, the more Harry resisted, the harder Ginny pressed her lips and body against Harry. Eventually, her force knocked the two off the log, Harry landing back first onto the grass behind the log. Ginny landed on top of Harry, and continued kissing him. Ginny pressed herself against Harry harder, rubbing her crotch against Harry's quickly. The friction caused Harry to gasp in delight, opening his mouth to Ginny. Ginny used the opportunity to plunge her tongue into Harry's mouth. The feeling of her kisses, of her core pressing into Harry's, and the feel of her warm tongue probing his mouth was too much for Harry. Despite his initial resistance, the sensations were too much, and Harry broke down his proverbial wall, giving into temptation and returning Ginny's kisses…

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4. Chapter Three

Author's Note: Thanks in part to your awesome reviews, and the chapter already beta'ed (give props to Laura for her work; without her efforts, this chapter would not be up), I'm putting this Chapter up earlier than I normally would. And for those who vomited and gagged at last chapter's ending, this will feature more H/H for ya'.

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Wednesday, May 27, 1998 - 7:56 PM

The Forbidden Forest - Hogwarts

It had been two and a half weeks since the night around the fire at The Burrow. Throughout that time, the trio had floated about from Hogwarts, to The Burrow, and to Grimmauld Place. Having decided it was their duty to help repair the broken castle they called home for six years - and for Harry, the first place he ever called home - much of their time was spent at the castle. Whether it was repairing statues and portraits, helping remove rubble from the battle, rebuilding walls, washing away stains of blood, or searching the Forbidden Forest for rebel Death Eaters and dark creatures, their days - and many times their nights too - were exhausting. However, the work they did gave one plenty of time to contemplate the on-goings in his or her life.

There are always certain spans of time when a person could question their life, and for Harry Potter, this was one of those times. Despite Harry giving into his lust with Ginny Weasley around the campfire, he had since regretted it. He was doing well at resisting her, but a memory burned into his mind right before he gave into his lust. Well, not really a memory, he recalled, but an image. Harry had no idea why this image had played in his mind, but it drove him crazy. The image was of Hermione and Ron walking through the woods at The Burrow, snogging up against a tree. He thought to himself, Am I jealous? That was a question he wasn't sure he had a definite answer for. Sure, he was irritated and annoyed when Hermione and Ron threw themselves at each other at Hogwarts, but that was when they had a battle to fight. And yes, he was irritated when Ron and Hermione walked off to the woods to snog, but that was only because it was clear Ron and Ginny set it up so each Weasley could be with their mate. Right?

“Mate,” Ron said, snapping Harry out of his reverie, “you alright over there?”

Harry blinked his eyes several times, scanning his surrounding environment. He, Ron, and Hermione were in the Forbidden Forest, having just finished another sweep of a portion of the Forest for dark creatures. They were reaching the very end of their sweep, now almost back to the Hogwarts ground.

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled. “I guess I just spaced out and all. We finished with our round?”

Hermione smirked and shook her head in amusement at Harry. However, it was hypocritical for her to laugh at Harry for zoning out when she'd done it multiple times as well. “Yes, Harry,” she said, “we've finished sweeping the Forest; we're about finished for the night.”

Ron looked at his watch. “Yeah, good thing too,” he said as his stomach grumbled. “I'm starving, and I already missed Mum's dinner at The Burrow. Hopefully she'll have leftovers for me.”

The three reached the end of the trees, and stepped back onto the “official” Hogwarts grounds. Ron took a deep breath and wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. “I don't know about you lot, but I can't wait for this `rebuilding' to be over. This is ridiculous.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron. “Oh, what? Don't want to understand the plight of a house elf? Whatever happened to caring about the house elves, Ronald!?”

Ron gulped and raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa now, Hermione,” he started, “calm down. You know I respect house elves, I'm just not a fan of this work.”

Harry studied the two, watching Hermione glare at Ron while the Weasley boy looked completely bemused. He hadn't been expecting Hermione to snap at him like that, clearly. Hermione must have seemed to think she was being a little too snappy, as her gaze softened. “I'm sorry, Ron” she apologized. “I shouldn't have snapped at you like that; I'm just a little tired, I guess.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said softly. “I am going to head back to The Burrow, though. Mum will be worrying that I'm not home by now, and well, I'm hungry.”

Ron shrugged his shoulders, while Harry and Hermione both chuckled. “Bye mate,” Harry said as Ron clapped him on the left shoulder. Ron then turned his attention to Hermione, and grinned goofily. The two embraced, and Hermione pecked him on the cheek as she tried to pull away from him. However, Ron had other thoughts, tightening his grip on her right arm as he leaned in to kiss her on the lips. Hermione's eyes showed discontent as Ron kissed her, and she did not return his kiss, simply letting him kiss her. Ron pulled away, grinning, and then turned on his heel to walk towards the gates, the point where he could Disapparate back to The Burrow. Throughout the entire ordeal, Harry narrowed his eyes at the two, not the least bit happy with his two friends kissing - well, one friend kissing the other. However, that spike of jealousy shot through him again; no, it's not jealousy, he thought.

As Ron walked away, Hermione looked at Harry, whose look of irritation had been replaced by one of skepticism. Hermione knew why Harry was looking at her like that, but played dumb anyways. The two started walking in the opposite direction as Ron, and Hermione looked at him quizzically. “What was that look about?” Hermione finally asked him.

Harry looked down at Hermione in irritated disbelief, knowing that Hermione knew why he was looking at her like that. “You know exactly why, Hermione,” he said flatly. “I do believe it was your complete lack of enthusiasm as your boyfriend kissed you.”

Hermione glowered at Harry, but didn't respond with anything. Instead, the two started walking towards the lake, Hermione now looking irritated herself. They walked in silence for several minutes before Harry brought the subject up again. “Hermione,” he began cautiously, “do you want to explain to me why you looked so… unmotivated, to kiss Ron?”

“No,” she said flatly, “not really.”

Hermione sped ahead, not wanting to talk about it. Harry sped up his pace in return, catching up with Hermione. He brought up the topic again, “Come on, Hermione. We're friends; you can talk to me about this.”

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, and Harry couldn't help but think he already knew why. They were both wondering why Harry was being so forceful about this. The two stopped walking, and after staring at him for several more moments, she finally said, “Harry, it's really not that important. Everything will be fine in time.”

Hermione continued walking, and Harry glared at her from behind. Almost running to catch up with her, he grabbed her by the arm, and spun her around, so they were facing each other. Looking right into her eyes, he said, “Look, I am your friend, Hermione. Whatever it is that's troubling you, you can confide in me. I won't tell Ron, whatever this is about, and remember, I talked to you about my problems with Ginny. You were helpful for me, so maybe I can be helpful for you.”

Harry smirked crookedly at her, and she couldn't help but smile in return. “Alright, fine,” she said, “you win, Harry.” The two kept walking on, still in silence, until Hermione finally started to talk. “It's…” she began but sputtered off. “Well… Ron and I,” she sputtered off again.

Hermione looked at Harry, now looking embarrassed. She was on the verge of tears. Not wanting to make Hermione talk right now, but still wanting to know what her problem was, he tried to piece the problem together himself. “It's okay, Hermione,” he said softly. “Let me guess, you aren't… uh, satisfied… when you and Ron kiss?”

Hermione crinkled her faced together, “It's not that, I'm just…” she sputtered off again. “It's complicated.”

Harry looked at her, and then at a tree by the lake. He nodded his head at the tree, and the two walked over to it. When there, they each sat down against the tree. Once they both settled in, Harry tried to get Hermione to open up again. “So it's not that you're not satisfied with kissing Ron, but… you guys just aren't…” he sputtered off, not really knowing what to say. Instead he looked at Hermione, hoping she would.

“…clicking,” she finished for him as she lowered her head in shame.

Harry looked at her, confused. “Clicking?” Harry asked her. “I'm sorry, Hermione, but you're going to have to explain that.” He couldn't help but laugh a bit at the situation, totally confused by Hermione's answer.

Hermione sat up against the tree, a look of disdain on her face because of Harry's comment. “I don't mind Ron and I kissing, not at all; I'm not some snooty prude you know, Harry.” She frowned at Harry for thinking that way about her.

Harry looked puzzled, both because Hermione thought Harry automatically considered her to be prudish, and because she seemed to care so much of Harry's opinion about her on the topic. “Uh, Hermione,” he said still puzzled, “I never said you were at all. I'm just confused by your problem.”

Hermione looked at him, a sense of pride about her. “Good,” she said simply. She then started to speak again, not making eye contact with Harry this time. “Ron always thought that way about me, you know,” she said in a soft whisper. “He said that he never tried to kiss me when we were on the run because he thought I wasn't, `like that,'” she finished as she rolled her eyes and glared out at the lake, still irritated by her past with Ron.

Harry still was confused. He didn't know how the topic of Hermione and being prudish had anything to do with the topic at hand. It seemed to have no relevance, especially for Harry's thoughts on it. However, he pressed on. “So, uh, does this have anything to do with you and Ron?”

Hermione took a deep breath, and swatted the hair out of her eyes. “Eventually, yes, but for right now, no.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Then the `clicking,' what do you even mean?”

Looking off into the distance, Hermione still seemed irritated with the topic. “When Ron and I kiss, we just don't… click. At first, I didn't recognize it, but now, especially since the night at The Burrow around the fire, whenever he kisses me, it just doesn't… feel right.”

She looked at him, pleadingly, hoping he'd understand what she meant. Thankfully, Harry nodded his head. “I understand what you mean,” he said sincerely. “That's what I felt when Cho kissed me fifth year. Then again, she was crying as she did it,” he finished with a laugh.

Hermione snorted in laughter, the comment catching her off guard. However, she also looked incredibly relieved. “Oh good,” she said happily. “I was hoping you would understand, Harry; I felt so foolish when we started talking about it.”

Smiling, Hermione hugged Harry, showing her relief. Harry smiled in return, and then continued to press on about the topic, curiosity getting the best of him. “Do you, uh… do you like kissing Ron?”

Hermione released herself from their hug, and looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean, Harry?” Hermione asked him, smirking slightly. “I fancy blokes, if that's what you're revving up too.”

This time it was Harry's turn to snort in laughter. “No, not that,” he explained chuckling. “I know you fancy lads, Hermione; you dated Viktor Krum for Merlin's sake! I just mean with Ron; do you like snogging with Ron?”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I don't know, Harry” she said simply. “Like I said, Ron and I aren't clicking when we snog. However, that's something that I'm sure will be fixed with time. If Ron wants to snog - which trust me, he does want to, at great lengths, which is also quite obnoxious - then I'm open to being with him. Couples snog, and Ron and I are a couple,” she finished plainly.

Laughing, Harry said, “Why am I not surprised that Ron, ex-boyfriend of `Lav-Lav' Brown, likes to snog excessively?”

After realizing what he said, Harry closed his mouth in horror, realizing what he had said. Mentioning Lavender so easily in regular conversation, despite her death, did not seem right, at least not to Harry. Hermione placed her hand on Harry's arm, “It's not your fault, Harry,” she said soothingly. “Lavender fought bravely, and I know her; she wouldn't want anyone to act odd when her name was mentioned. In fact, just the opposite; she'd want us to talk about her in great length.”

Harry chuckled, and Hermione moved her hand down Harry's arm, squeezing his hand in comfort before releasing it. “However, you are right,” she said matter-of-factly. “Ron's constant snogging with Lavender in sixth year could definitely have something to do with him wanting to snog so much. Maybe I wouldn't mind Ron wanting to snog so much if we, you know, `clicked.' Instead, it's rather overbearing.”

Hermione sighed, and the two sat in silence for a lengthy amount of time. Hermione seemed deep in thought about her relationship with Ron, and Harry did not want to disturb her. However, he eventually did snap her out of her thoughts. “Speaking of Ron, Hermione” he began, “have you talked to him about the Quidditch World Cup yet? Did he say he'd go to Australia to get your parents instead?”

“No,” she said dully.

Hermione went to answer the question further, but Harry cut her off. “What do you mean `no?' Hermione, you can't mean he chose Quidditch over you!”

She shook her head sideways. “No, not that,” she said bluntly. “I mean, I haven't even gotten around to asking him yet.”

Harry looked at her incredulously. “Hermione, it's been over two weeks since we first talked about going to Australia! What's holding you up?”

“Well,” she began, “I'm nervous. I'm afraid that Ron might decide to go to the Quidditch World Cup instead. I know he went to the Finals last time, but this is different. This is a month's holiday, doing nothing but watching Quidditch around France. For Ron, that's a dream come true!”

Harry shook his head at Hermione. “Hermione, you're off it. Ron wouldn't choose Quidditch over you and Australia. And if he does, he's sodding crazy.”

Hermione beamed at him in return. “Thank you,” she said happily. “Harry, thank you so much. That means a lot to me.”

Harry smiled in return, although he didn't think it was that big of a compliment. To Harry, it was the simple truth for him.

“It's not a problem, Hermione,” he said humbly. “However, you do need to ask him about it already. I want to tell him I'm not going also, but I can't mention why I'm randomly turning down the Quidditch World Cup if you don't tell the Weasley's you're going to Australia to get your parents. Let him know you're going to Australia, and you want him to come with you.”

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. “I know I do, Harry,” she said. “I have tried to talk about it to him, but whenever I get onto the subject of the Cup, he keeps mentioning his delight to be going, hence my anxiousness to finally ask him. However,” she said breaking off to stare right at Harry and nod at him, “next time I do talk to Ron, I will ask him about it, right away.”

“Oh what, like when you and Ron fancy another `walk?'” he asked jokingly.

Hermione blushed. She didn't say anything in response, but instead went back to a previous topic. “Do you think it'll change, Harry?” she asked him hopefully, her voice returning to a soft whisper.

He looked at her, confused. “What in the world do you mean, Hermione?” he replied in question.

“From earlier,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Do you think Ron and I will be more in sync over time? We probably just need some more time together, right?”

Harry ran his fingers through his hair before answering. “I don't know, Hermione. I mean, Ginny and I never had that problem.”

Hermione frowned, looking both sad and irritated. “Really? You and Ginny never seemed out of sync when you first got together?”

Harry shook his head. “Not really,” he recalled. “Sure, there were, and are, minor things that I don't like when we snog, but really, my relationship with Ginny has always been based on physicality,” he added thoughtfully. After saying that, he scratched at his jaw line, coming to a conclusion on him and Ginny. “Wow, that really is all Ginny and I have ever had: lust.”

“That's not true,” Hermione explained quickly. “Your relationship with Ginny is about more than just simply lust.”

Harry eyed Hermione skeptically. “Hermione,” he began, “it's the truth. Ginny and I were never together long, and when we were, we were out together in secluded areas of the Hogwarts ground. When I was on the run with you and Ron, it wasn't my conversations with Ginny I was remembering. I remembered snogging; I remembered moments of lust.”

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head sadly, Hermione watching his actions the whole time. The two stayed in silence for several minutes, before Hermione spoke. “Harry, if that's what you really think, then I think it's obvious your feelings for Ginny are diminishing; and if that is the case, you need to stop having those snog sessions with her. That's not fair: not fair to Ginny, nor is it fair to you.”

Hermione looked at him pointedly, and Harry nodded his head in agreement. “I know, Hermione, I know,” he said. “When we were at the campfire, I tried resisting Ginny's advancements, and I did for a while. However, she's very pretty and I do still fancy her, at least a bit, so it's hard to resist her.”

Hermione half-smiled, only to then notice Harry smirking. Eying him up, she asked, “What's funny, Harry?”

“You,” he said honestly.

“What?” She asked him, having no idea what about her was so funny.

He laughed and shook his head. “You're telling me not to snog Ginny because I'm unsure of my feelings for her, when you go around snogging Ron when you don't even like it when it you do!”

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him; she was furious. “Don't you patronize me, Potter,” she growled. “How dare you!?”

Harry couldn't believe how quickly Hermione snapped at him, and had to deal with her throwing her arms at him, shoving him in the chest. Hermione shoved Harry once, and then a second time, almost sending Harry onto his back. Hermione went to shove Harry a third time, but he caught her wrists in his palms.

Hermione flailed her arms, trying to escape his clutches, but Harry refused. “Hermione,” he said softly, “calm down… please. I was only taking the mickey, honestly. I didn't mean anything by it.”

Hermione looked into Harry's eyes, and noticed the sincerity in his words. She closed her eyes and nodded her head, calming herself down. “Sorry for snapping at you, Harry,” she sighed. She then opened her eyes and fixated them directly on Harry, and regained her matter-of-fact tone. “For the record, I never said I didn't like snogging Ron; I only said that we lacked chemistry right now. I am of the opinion that a couple can't just get together and have a great snog right away.”

Hermione continued to stare at Harry, and Harry returned her stare, looking deep into her eyes. “All you need is the right mate,” he said softly.

The two teens stared deep into each other's eyes, something stirring deep in them. Harry, his hands still around Hermione's wrists, released her left wrist, moving his right hand up to Hermione's face. And then, Harry felt it. That spike of jealousy Harry felt every time he saw Hermione and Ron kiss, filled him yet again. It couldn't be jealousy then, could it? Harry had nothing to be jealous of, not right now, in this moment.

Temptation filled the air. Harry cupped Hermione's face in his hand, her wrist held firmly in his other hand. The challenge to prove all one needs for a great snog is the correct mate was in the air; was Harry was going to determine if he was a better mate for her than? Hermione stared at Harry, first looking at his eyes, her gaze then slowly shifting down to his lips before darting back up to his eyes, her breath all of a sudden hitching in her throat. Their respective eyes caught onto each other's again, the heat of the moment encompassing them, forcing them to act. Harry leaned his head towards Hermione, who slowly parted her lips in anticipation…

“`Ello `Arry, `Ermione,” came the booming voice of Hagrid the half-giant, in the distance.

It was over before it ever began. Harry and Hermione jumped apart from each other, and quickly turned to the direction of Hagrid. Hagrid was walking back from the castle towards his hut, Fang by his side. Harry and Hermione each took a deep breath, and Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration while Hermione answered Hagrid.

“He-Hello Hagrid,” she said shakily. Hermione cleared her voice, and then spoke again, her voice returning to her fully this time. “How are you?”

Hagrid smiled at the two from a distance, although it was lost to the duo sitting by the tree in the dark. “I'm great,” he roared. “I'm `eadin' over to me hut for a cuppa'. You lot care to come along?”

Harry and Hermione didn't even look at each other, instead both hastily getting up to their feet and trotting over to Hagrid. After their near-kiss, their moment that never was, each wanted to diffuse the situation; having a third party such as Hagrid would be a great help to diffusing said situation of a near-kiss. The two joined Hagrid on their walk back to his hut, each on a separate side of the half-giant. Neither Harry or Hermione made eye contact with one another, but no glance was needed, no words need be said. They both knew what almost happened, what they both wanted to happen. Why it almost happened, however, why they almost let it happened, was the question that they each need to figure out. Needless to say, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger each had a lot of reflection to do in the near-future.

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5. Chapter Four

Author's Note: Sorry about the wait between chapters. I haven't heard back from my beta in forever, so I am just doing this chapter without her. Hopefully I can get that ordeal sorted out. I myself have not written anything new in a while; I hope to get writing a lot though since my break starts two weeks from now. Until next time, enjoy!

Thursday, May 28, 1998 - 10:21 AM

***********Grimmauld Place***********

Harry drowsily opened his eyes from sleep, and rolled out of his bed. The scene in front of him an enormous blur, Harry blindly reached for his bedside cabinet, found his spectacles, and placed them on his head. After spending several minutes in the loo to urinate and brush his teeth, Harry left his bedroom on the second floor and went down to the kitchen in Grimmauld Place, fully expecting to see a girl with familiar bushy brown hair sitting there. However, Hermione Granger was nowhere to be found.

Great, he thought to himself. She must be furious with me because of last night.

After Harry and Hermione's near kiss the night previous, the two spent the rest of the evening at Hagrid's Hut until they came back to Grimmauld Place to sleep. The two said nothing once back at Grimmauld, instead simply departing for their respective rooms without as much as a “goodnight.” As Harry sat down at the kitchen table, Kreacher came into view, carrying a tray of bacon and toast.

“Breakfast, Master,” Kreacher croaked. The old house elf placed the tray on the table, and bowed at Harry.

“Thanks, Kreacher,” he said in return. “Did you see…” he started to say, only for Kreacher to cut him off.

“…The Muggle Born left earlier this morning,” Kreacher said, receiving a glare from Harry. Despite Kreacher refraining from ever calling Hermione a Mudblood again, it was still hard for him to be completely nice to Hermione. He tried, but everyone slips up, including a house elf.

“I've told you,” Harry began, his eyes narrowing, “that her name is Hermione.”

Kreacher bowed in apology, and then handed Harry a note. “The note is from... Hermione,” the elf said after a pause.

Harry read over the note, it pretty much just saying that she went over to The Burrow to tell Ron about going to Australia. She had written nothing about last night's altercation.

“She probably doesn't want to ever talk about that,” he said. Harry shook his head, still confused about last night. Why did he and Hermione almost kiss? He did not understand it at all, especially since she's dating Ron, his best mate.

“Talk about what, Master?” Kreacher asked, snapping Harry out of his thought process.

Harry looked at Kreacher, and was confused as to why he asked the question when he looked uninterested in the topic. “Don't worry about it, Kreacher,” he said flatly. The house elf shrugged his shoulders, bowed again, and left the room.

Eating his breakfast, Harry continued to mull over why he and Hermione almost kissed. I don't like her, he thought simply. She's with Ron; they both fancy each other.

…Then why did she look ready and willing to kiss me? a new voice in his head asked him. He couldn't match a face to the voice, but he knew this voice, this part of his mind, was right. Hermione was open to kissing Harry, she looked more than willing to snog him.

The more he thought about it, the more he became angry. I don't fancy Hermione. Hermione doesn't fancy me. She likes Ron, and Ron likes her, he thought to himself with a tone of finality. Since she's with Ron, Hermione is someone that I could never be with; she's a forbidden fruit. I was lured to what I can't have, and that's that.

Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and ate the rest of his bacon and toast in silence, having finished arguing with himself inside his mind.

***********The Burrow************

Hermione landed on her feet after Apparating to the yard of The Burrow, and swiftly walked to the door, where she proceeded to knock on it three times. After a few seconds, the door opened, Molly Weasley now standing in the doorway.

“Hello, dear,” Molly said sweetly. “What can I do for you? Ron and Ginny are both in their rooms right now.”

“Oh, I just needed to talk to Ron for a moment,” she said.

Molly nodded her head and stepped out of the doorway, motioning for Hermione to step inside. “You know where his room is at,” she said simply.

Hermione, however, shook her head sideways. “I'd rather walk around and talk,” she replied, equally as simple. “It's a nice day; I'd rather not waste away inside.”

“Alright, dear” said Molly. “You just wait here then; I'll go fetch Ronald for you.”

Molly walked out of sight, only to come back a minute later. “Ronald will be right down. Is there anything I can get you?” she asked sweetly.

“Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione replied.

The two stood in silence for a moment or two, until Molly tried to make small talk until Ron came down from his room. “So, are you excited for the Quidditch World Cup?” she asked Hermione. “Ron and Ginny won't stop talking about how excited they are for it!”

Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes in irritation; she did not want to hear a thing about the Quidditch World Cup, not when she was here to tell Ron she wasn't going. “Oh, um, I'm sure it will be a lot of fun,” she lied.

Molly smiled at her, and thankfully Ron appeared a moment later, ending the conversation about the World Cup. “Hi Hermione,” he said grinning. “Wanted to talk and go for a walk, aye?”

His back turned to his mother, Ron winked at Hermione, clearly thinking she came just to snog. Hermione bit her tongue, not wanting to snap at Ron. She knew he'd be disappointed, and potentially furious, to hear she was going to Australia instead of the World Cup, so starting a row with him now would just make it worse. “Yes, Ron,” she said simply. “I wish to talk with you, please.”

Ron grinned even more. “Lead the way then,” he said as he stepped out into the yard.

The two walked away from the house and down the hill towards the sight of their campfire weeks prior. Hermione had never really known just how much land the Weasley's actually had, although most of it was filled with woods and hills. A short walk from where the six had their campfire was a watering hole that if they ever wanted to, they could all go swimming in.

Despite Ron telling Hermione to lead the way, as the two walked towards the water, he grabbed Hermione's hand and started walking towards the woods. Hermione didn't mind where they talked at; she just wanted to avoid causing a row in front of the Weasley family.

The two walked on for almost twenty minutes, making small talk along the way, still holding hands. Ron made mention of the Quidditch World Cup several times, but Hermione never responded. She was holding that talk off as long as she could, but knew they'd need to sit down and talk soon.

Finally, Ron came to a halt as the two stopped. They were in the woods still, but they were standing in the middle of a circular area free of trees. The small clearing reminded Hermione of part of a campground she once camped at with her parents when she was much younger. This would be a wonderful place to camp at for a night, she thought absent mindedly.

Ron, still holding Hermione's hand, looked at her, and slowly sat down on the dirt, bringing her with him so they were sitting side by side. Hermione took a deep breath, and prepared to start her well thought out speech. “Ron, the reason I came over today,” she began slowly, only for Ron to cover her mouth with his hand.

“Shh,” he said quietly. “I know why, Hermione.”

Hermione looked at him, confused. Ron quickly waggled his eyebrows at her, and removed his hand from her mouth. “Ron, I don't think…” she started to say, only for her mouth to be covered by Ron's. Ron kissed her hungrily, slipping his tongue into her mouth right away. Hermione didn't kiss back, instead placing her hands on Ron's shoulders, trying to push him away. She clearly didn't apply enough force, as Ron kept kissing Hermione, and soon brought his right hand to her cheekbone. Steadying her head, Ron lowered Hermione down so she was lying on the dirt, Ron quickly moving on top of her afterwards.

Hermione applied more force to Ron's chest, but with him on top of her, it did nothing. She slowly tried to pull her mouth away from Ron's, but also failed to do so with Ron cupping her face. However, Hermione tried to pull her face in the opposite direction as Ron's hand, only for him to place his left hand at her other cheekbone, dropping his right hand down to her torso. Ron then slowly moved his right hand up Hermione's abdomen, reaching her left breast. Ron was able to roughly squeeze Hermione's breast once, only for Hermione to then push Ron to her side, using all of her might to do so. Ron grinned as he sat up, tucking his knees and legs up in front of him, hiding his erection. Hermione took several deep breaths, wiping her mouth with the back of her right hand as she too, sat up. The whole ordeal was quite unsatisfactory for Hermione; Ron kissed her far too sloppily, and only proceeded to make her breast sore with how he grabbed it.

“Ronald,” she said angrily. “Don't you ever listen!? I did not come over here today so we could walk out into the woods and let you throw yourself on me!”

Hermione glared at Ron, who seemed hurt and confused. “But, Hermione,” he stuttered. “I thought you came over to be with me, and you didn't say anything when we walked into the woods. Last time we walked into the woods, we snogged, so why should now be any different?”

“Simply walking into the woods with you is not a signal that I want to snog,” Hermione said irritably. “I came over to your house today to simply talk. I meant what I said when we were at your house.”

Ron pulled at his pants, trying to lower them a bit. “Oh,” he said simply. “Well then, uh, what did you want to talk about?” Hermione went to answer him, but Ron opened his mouth in excitement and started to talk again. “I bet I know! You wanted to come and make preparations for the Quidditch World Cup, didn't you? That's my Hermione, always trying to plan stuff ahead,” he finished grinning.

Hermione looked at Ron in disbelief. She took a few seconds to take a deep breath and calm down. “Actually Ron,” she began. “While I did want to talk to you about the World Cup, it isn't like that.”

“Oh, well then what?” he asked her. “Did you want to talk about how we're going to stay there? Dad told me earlier that he got two big tents for us, so we'll have plenty of room!”

“No, Ron,” she said simply. “It's not that either.” Ron started to question her again, but Hermione decided it'd be best if she just blurted it out. “Ron, I'm not going!”

There was silence for a few moments as Hermione took a deep breath, relieved to have finally shouted it out, while Ron looked confused. “Wh-what do you mean?” he asked her. “We've been talking about the World Cup ever since I first mentioned it at the campfire.”

Hermione looked at him sadly. “No, Ron,” she began. “You have been talking about it ever since, but I never once talked about going to the World Cup. I, well, I haven't wanted to go from the moment you mentioned it.”

Ron's confusion was quickly switching to anger. “But, Hermione! We'd be spending over a month together, in France! You always said you loved it in France!”

“I do love going to France, but not camping in rural France to watch a month's worth of Quidditch,” she retorted.

“But… but you always went camping as a kid, and you loved that too! Plus,” he continued. “You always liked watching me and Harry play Quidditch.”

“I do love camping, Ron,” she said sadly. “And of course I liked watching you two play Quidditch, but that's not why I don't want to go.”

Ron looked at her, dejected by her decision. “So, let me get this straight,” he said slowly, a hint of anger in his tone. “You love France, you love camping, and you love Quidditch, yet you don't want to do all of that while spending a month with your boyfriend!? Hermione, bloody hell, what is better than that!?”

Ron, having ended shouting, threw his arms in the air, his face growing red with anger and from his shouting. Hermione took quick, sharp breaths, her eyes narrowing in anger. She was livid. “You want to know what in the `bloody hell' is better than your stupid Quidditch World Cup!?” she shrieked at him. “Besides the fact that right now, anything is better than spending a month watching a stupid game and being with you, the better thing, Ronald, is going to Australia to remove my parents' false memory charm and bring them back to England!”

Hermione was now on her feet, also ending her speech with shouting. Ron got to his feet too, ready to answer with a comeback of his own, but Hermione started to talk again, still shouting. “I'm so sorry,” Hermione began sarcastically, “that Harry and I deem parents more important than silly Quidditch!”

Ron turned a new shade of red, his nostrils now flaring. “Oh, I get it,” he said simply.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, confused as can be.

“You want to be with him,” he said bitterly. “You'd rather be with Harry than me.”

“Ron, it's not like that,” she explained. “I miss my parents so much, and Harry understands more than anyone what it's like to miss one's parents. He wants to go and help me bring my parents back to England, and I want you to be there too!”

“Yeah, sure,” he snorted in disbelief. “Now that you have to tell me you're not going to the World Cup, you want me to come with you! You just want Harry, I get it.”

Hermione stomped her foot in anger. “Ronald, why must you be so ruddy dense!?” she shrieked. “I want to go to Australia to bring my parents home! I want Harry there because he is my friend, and I want you there too because not only are you my boyfriend, but you're my friend too!”

The two stood there in silence for several moments, until Ron spoke again, this time in a soft, pleading voice. “But Hermione, this is the Quidditch World Cup,” he said. “It's not just the Finals, but all of it. I get to see the best players in the world, all of them. Can't we get your parents after the World Cup?”

Ron looked at her pleadingly, but Hermione only became angrier. “Family does not come second to a game! Parents do not come second to a sport! The people you love do not come second to Quidditch!” Hermione glared at him, her eyes now watering with tears. Ron tried to say something, but Hermione talked over him. “If you want to be a right git and say I chose Harry over you, then I can be just as irrational and say you chose sodding Quidditch over your girlfriend!”

Hermione turned on her heel and stormed away from Ron, but Ron quickly ran after her. He caught her left arm, and quickly spun her around. However, before Ron could even attempt to say anything, Hermione had her wand in her right hand, pointing it at Ron's face.

“Pungoltus,” Hermione cried, blasting Ron in the face with a Stinging Hex. Ron stumbled backwards, clutching his face in pain. Hermione gave Ron one last glaring look before she Disapparated, leaving Ron to stagger back to The Burrow with a swollen, and stinging, face.

***********Grimmauld Place***********

Hermione Apparated outside the door of Grimmauld Place, and quickly stepped into the house, tears still in her eyes. Hermione walked through the foyer and down the steps to the kitchen, where Harry was sitting, eating lunch. Hermione made no noise, trying not to alert Harry of her presence. However, it was as if Harry had a sixth sense that alerted him to her presence; Harry looked over his shoulder, only to find Hermione standing in the doorway, crying silently.

“Hermione, what…” he started to say, but Hermione quickly turned on her heel and ran up the stairs to the entrance hallway. Harry chased her, but Hermione entered the foyer, quickly opened the door, and closed it before Harry could grab the handle. Harry quickly opened the door, but Hermione was already out of sight.

Harry gave one more quick look outside Grimmauld Place, before walking back through the hall and descending the stairs to return to the kitchen. Once there, he Scourgified the food on the plate, and Evanescoed the plate. Harry then swiftly walked through Grimmauld, reached the door, stepped outside, and Disapparated away.

***********The Burrow***********

Moments later, Harry appeared in the yard of The Burrow, just as Ron finally got staggered up the hill towards the house, his face looking wretched. Harry looked at him quizzically.

“What in the hell happened to you?” he asked him.

Ron looked blindly in the direction of Harry, and had just one word for an answer: “Hermione.”

Harry looked at Ron, and couldn't help but smirk at Hermione hexing him. However, he remembered Hermione crying back at Grimmauld, and became filled with anger. “Yeah, Hermione,” he started simply. “She's the girl that showed up at Grimmauld crying. She left a note saying she came here to talk to you, so I think that narrows down who upset her.”

Ron staggered the rest of the way to the house, not answering Harry. He entered the house, but Harry grabbed him by the back of his maroon jumper, yanking him back to the yard. Ron staggered, and looked outraged at Harry. “Bloody hell,” he yelled. “I can't see a damn thing out of my left eye, my face stings like a hippogriff fucker, and I just want to have this ruddy hex lifted! So damn it, Harry, stop pushing me around!”

Ron tried to walk back into the house, but Harry stepped in his path, his wand pointed at him. “Fucking hell,” Ron said. “Not again.”

“Finite,” Harry said in a low voice.

Seconds later, Ron's face was back to normal. He cautiously touched the skin just under his left eye, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks mate,” he said. Ron then went to walk into The Burrow again, but Harry still didn't move. “C'mon, Harry,” he complained. “Let me in my house!”

“No,” he said simply. “I want to know why Hermione showed up crying.”

The anger that consumed Ron during his row with Hermione was quickly returning once again. “Like you don't already know,” he mumbled in a low tone. “She'd rather go to Australia than the World Cup with me; she'd rather be with you. Now let me through!” Harry didn't budge, but Ron, taller and stronger than Harry, shoved him aside, and walked into the house.

Harry staggered to his right, but stayed on his feet. He quickly stormed into The Burrow after Ron, but as soon as he stepped into the house, he saw Ginny standing at the bottom step, standing in the middle between Harry and Ron. She looked confused. “I could hear you two talking outside,” she said. “What did Ron mean?”

Harry walked over to her, hoping she'd move out of his way. “It doesn't matter,” he said, looking above her shoulder and at the upstairs hallway.

Ginny, however, stayed on the bottom step, refusing to let Harry pass. “Tell me,” she demanded.

Wanting to simply go upstairs and confront Ron, he answered her. “Hermione is going to Australia instead of the Quidditch World Cup,” he began. “She wants to bring her parents back to England now that the war is over. I'm going with her,” he added plainly.

Harry expected Ginny to move out of his way, but she still stood on the bottom step. She still looked confused. “You… you're not coming with us to France?” she asked him. “But Harry, I thought you wanted to spend the month with me, with all of us.”

“It's not that, Ginny” he said. “I'd love to go to the Quidditch World Cup with you lot, but getting Hermione's parents back home, where they belong, is more important to me.”

Ginny looked at Harry for a moment, and nodded her head. “Okay,” she said simply. “I understand; you'd rather spend the time with us, with me, but recovering the Granger's identities is the right thing to do.” Ginny stepped off the step, approaching Harry so they were right in front of each other. Ginny slid her hand along Harry's face, and leaned her head up to kiss Harry. However, Harry, caught her wrist with his hand, and pushed it off his face.

“I'm not here to be with you, Gin,” he said flatly. “Ron did something to upset Hermione, and I'm not leaving `till I find out what.” Harry quickly moved past Ginny, and stormed up the steps. He wasn't here to let Ginny try and kiss him, and she had it all wrong anyways: He'd rather not spend a whole month with Ginny, not right now, with everything so confusing. Once he reached Ron's door, he turned the knob, only for the door to remain closed. Harry pulled out his wand, and pointed it at the knob. “Alohomora!”

The door unlocked, and Harry opened the door. Harry stepped into Ron's room, and spotted him sitting on his bed, still looking angry. Harry stayed in the doorway. “Ron,” he started. “Why was Hermione crying when she came back to Grimmauld?”

Ron shrugged his shoulders, still looking pissed. “How should I know?” he asked in return. “I couldn't see a damn thing, remember? She hexed me!”

“Yeah, and you probably deserved it,” he retorted back. “Look Ron, don't have a go at Hermione because she misses her parents! You and I both know that Hermione's parents are more important to her than Quidditch!”

“Yeah,” he agreed bitterly. “But then again, you're more important to her than me too.”

Harry looked questioningly at him. “What in the hell are you on about?”

Ron jumped up from the bed, looking shocked at Harry's confusion. “Like hell you don't know! She'd rather be with you in Australia than in France with me! And you'd rather be with her than me and Ginny! You've been planning on going to Australia with her this whole time!”

“Yeah, I have,” he stated simply. “Parents are more important than Quidditch to me.”

Ron laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “No, you going behind my back to snog my girlfriend is more important than Quidditch!”

Harry looked at Ron in horror for the briefest of moments, fearing Hermione told Ron about their near-kiss the night before. However, he changed his look to that of more confusion a second later, Ron missing the initial glance altogether.

“You want to go to Australia with Hermione so you can snog her,” Ron shouted. “You don't give a damn about my relationship with her, and you don't care about your relationship with Ginny either!”

Harry looked at Ron in complete disbelief. Now Ron was just sounding idiotic. “Ron, you're off the wall, mate. I'm not going to Australia to sabotage your relationship with Hermione. And I'm not even dating Ginny! She and I already talked about that.”

Ron curled his fingers into a fist, and wiggled his fingers once in said fist. “Yeah sure, Harry,” Ron said sarcastically. “Don't you remember what you told me? You told me she was like a sister to you! And now look at you, you ditched my sister and are trying to steal Hermione away from me!”

“Ron, you're fucking mental,” Harry shouted at him. “Hermione wanted you to come with us! She told me that the moment she mentioned going to Australia, and I'd bet my life that she told you she wanted you to come with her!” Harry glared at Ron, his anger and frustration consuming him. “Hermione is my best friend, Ron. She's always been there for me; she's never abandoned me. If she wants to go to Australia and re-modify her parents' memories, then I won't abandon her on that trip in return. I'm going to help her, and that's that.”

Harry fell silent for a moment, still glaring at Ron. Ron returned the glare, and as he thought of a retort, Harry started talking again instead. “You're being the world's biggest git right now, Ron. You don't appreciate Hermione at all, not if you're still going to the Quidditch World Cup instead of going to Australia with her. You should be going there with her, helping her restore her parents' memories, but instead, you'd rather go be a Quidditch fan boy! Merlin, you think Hermione and you will make a great wife and husband because you argue a lot, but that doesn't mean anything! You should be supporting her, not being selfish!” He paused momentarily, noticing Ron's shocked look. “Oh what, Ron? Didn't that stupid book you got last year teach you that about girls?”

Ron was stunned silent, as Harry held nothing back. He was like a man possessed, and he had no idea why. He had already dealt Ron several low blows, but he still wasn't finished. “You know what? Go to the World Cup! Go beg Krum for another autograph, maybe if you tell him Hermione sends her regards he'll do so! And while you're there, I hope you get hit by a stray Bludger. Maybe then you'll stop being such a wanker and get some fucking sense knocked into you!”

Harry gave Ron one last hateful glare before exiting his room. As he looked in the hallway, both Ginny and Molly Weasley were standing nearby, their mouths agape in shock after overhearing Ron and Harry's row. Harry looked at them emotionlessly, and walked through the hallway, down the steps, and eventually out the front door. Molly followed after him, calling for him to come back and calm down, but he didn't listen. He didn't hesitate a second, instead Disapparating away from The Burrow and back to Grimmauld.

Back upstairs, Ginny slowly walked into Ron's room, still looking shocked by the row between Harry and Ron. Ron was sitting on his bed again, his hands in his hair. He looked up at Ginny, and was surprised to see her glaring at him. “What?” he asked her.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Ron Weasley, you're an ignorant git! Harry isn't going to Australia to snog Hermione; he meant what he said that bringing Hermione's parents home was more important to him than Quidditch. Harry never got to know his parents, so you know how much he values family. We always had Mum and Dad; we take them for granted.”

Ron removed his hands from his head and sat up fully, looking at Ginny blankly. “Hermione and Harry both wanted you to go with them, you know. You were too busy throwing a tantrum because they weren't going to the World Cup to even recognize that. Personally, I'd love to go to Australia. I hear it's so beautiful there. I'm jealous Harry didn't ask me to go with him, actually,” she finished sadly.

Ginny gave Ron one last look, and then left his room. Ron watched her leave, and then lowered his head, resting it in his hands. He stayed that way for several moments, before snapping his head back up, coming to a realization about the way he acted.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned. “I was a wanker.”

***********Grimmauld Place***********

Harry Apparated outside Grimmauld's front door, and entered the house. His body still shaking with rage because of Ron, he slowly walked through the house to the library on the third floor, hoping Hermione might be there. To his dismay, Hermione wasn't in the library. He checked her bedroom on the first floor, but she wasn't there either. Finally, he walked down the stairs to the main hallway, and then down the stairs leading to the kitchen. Still, no Hermione. However, there was a note on the table. At first, Harry thought it was the note from earlier in the morning, but this was a new one.

Hermione must have known I'd go to The Burrow when she left, he thought. She probably came right back here a few minutes after she left.

Harry walked over to the kitchen table, and picked up the note, reading it to himself…

Harry,

If you are reading this, you must be back from The Burrow. While I can't say I know you definitely went there, I'm sure you went there to find out why I was upset. You don't need to worry about why I was upset, Harry. We can talk about it some other time.

I needed to be alone for a while, so I Disapparated over to my parents' house in Wimbledon. Almost all of my parents' stuff is still there, and even though nobody is there, it is comforting for me.

However, I do have a favor to ask of you, Harry. Can you be ready to leave for Australia tonight? I know we planned to leave on 2nd June, but I just want to get away from here for now. Have your suitcase packed and be ready to leave by 10, if you can.

I'll see you soon,

Hermione

Harry put the note down, and decided that if he and Hermione were leaving for Australia tonight, he should get packed. He still had a lot on his mind - his row with Ron, his changing feelings for Ginny, his near-kiss with Hermione - and hoped that a few weeks in Australia would help clarify everything going through his head.

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6. Chapter Five

Author's Note: Well, here is Chapter 5, and the Australia chapters shall begin here. At least the next 4 chapters after this one will be Australia, and maybe 1 (or 2?) more. I'm really not sure. Anywho, here it is; all reviews are always appreciated.

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Friday, May 29, 1998 - 11:19 AM

***********Grimmauld Place***********

The lone figure of Ronald Weasley appeared outside the door of Grimmauld Place with the loud, distinct crack of his Apparation. Ron stumbled as he landed, but quickly regained his footing, and rang the newly installed doorbell. Ron waited for several moments, but when neither Kreacher, Harry, nor Hermione answered the door, he pushed on the handle and the door slowly opened, revealing the entrance hallway. Ron walked into the silent house, looking around for any sign of his best friend or girlfriend. Ron walked through the hallway and down into the kitchen, but no Hermione or Harry.

Ron continued his search, climbing up the multiple layers of stairs, calling out for his friends at the beginning of each floor. However, Hermione and Harry were nowhere to be found in Grimmauld Place. After making one sweep of the house, the sad truth hit Ron: Harry and Hermione had already left for Australia. However, Ron frantically searched the upper floors of Grimmauld two more times, calling out for Harry and Hermione continuously, trying to find them.

After searching throughout Grimmauld for over thirty minutes, Ron finally walked backed down to the entrance hallway on the main floor. Looking around the entrance hallway one last time, Ron lowered his head and closed his eyes, depressed that the two had left. “Sorry,” he mumbled lowly to the empty house, and walked out the door.

***********Sydney, Australia ***********

Friday, May 29, 1998 - 7:00 AM (Local Time)

Harry and Hermione appeared in a small, hidden alley, both clutching their magically shrunken suitcases and a dark brown clothespin. Both teens stumbled on impact, Hermione actually falling to the ground from the very rough trip. Harry, still holding the clothespin in his left hand, reached out his right hand. Hermione took Harry's hand in hers, and allowed Harry to pull her up to her feet. Once both were on their feet, Harry dropped the clothespin to the trashy pavement below. The clothespin was Harry and Hermione's Ministry provided portkey for their trip, the portkey now defunct and the clothespin just a piece of rubbish. Hermione had asked the Ministry for a portkey for the trip, and Kingsley Shacklebolt swiftly made sure the two received said portkey right away. While traveling from England to Australia via portkey was bumpy and somewhat tiring, it was much safer and easier than Apparating there. Apparating a long distance would've required much more energy and skill, and also increased the chance of splinching oneself; Harry was definitely happy to arrive in Australia in one piece, that was certain.

Before Hermione and Harry even took a step out of the alley and towards the road in town, Harry took out his wand and pointed it at his shrunken suitcase.

“Harry, what are you doing?” asked Hermione suddenly.

“I'm just restoring my suitcase to the right size,” he said, “it'd look really weird walking into a hotel lobby with either a miniature suitcase or none at all.”

“Well, that is true,” Hermione told him, “but we're not going to a hotel just yet.”

Harry looked at her, both confused and irritated. “Hermione, I know you want to find your parents, and trust me, I do too, but I've been up for twelve hours now. It's ten at night back home, and to be frank, I'm zonked.”

Hermione laughed at Harry, the look he gave her was too funny looking not to. “Yes, Harry, it is ten back home,” she said simply, still smirking at him. “But do you know what time it is here, in Australia?”

“Err,” he stammered, not knowing for sure the time difference between London and Sydney.

“It's seven in the morning,” she told him in that trademark Hermione tone, the voice that let people know Hermione was the smartest witch of her age. “Hotels aren't going to let us check in at seven in the morning; we won't be able to check in until the afternoon.”

Harry groaned. He was quite tired, and was looking forward to napping until the early afternoon. “Oh hush,” Hermione told him in a playful tone. “I'm sure ickle Harry will be able to stay awake for another seven hours until he can kip off.”

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Harry, and Harry simply laughed, shaking his head and smiling all the while. “Well, if I have to stay awake until the afternoon,” he retorted in the same playful tone, “can we at least get poor me some caffeine?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered him, rolling her eyes while still smiling at him. “I'm sure that there's a café in town somewhere. We'll go sit there and talk a while. But first, give me your suitcase, Harry.”

Harry did as Hermione told him, and she quickly placed both his and her shrunken suitcases into her purse. The two then walked out of the alley, walking right into the heart of Sydney. Harry and Hermione both stopped walking, taking a moment to examine their surroundings and just look around in awe. However, the two quickly started walking moments later as a mass of people were walking in their direction, about to collide with the teens. Harry and Hermione walked around Sydney for a while, making small talk about Australia and the beauty of the place before finally finding a café on the corner of two streets.

The two entered the café, and as they walked towards the register to order, Harry placed his hand on Hermione's left arm, stopping her in her place. “What is it, Harry?” she asked him, unsure as to why he stopped him.

“I don't have any Muggle money,” he told her lowly, embarrassed. He had packed and left for Australia so quickly, that he never went to Gringotts to transfer his Galleons to Australian dollars.

Hermione smiled at him. “I guess it's a good thing that I came prepared then,” she said, winking at him. “Don't worry, Harry, you can pay me back or treat me to something some other time,” she told him as Harry opened his mouth, knowing that he was going to say something along those lines.

“Alright?” Hermione asked him, smiling warmly. Harry nodded his head, and the two walked the rest of the way up to the register. Once there, Hermione ordered hot tea for the two of them, a bagel for Harry, and a muffin for herself. Once they got their order, the two sat down at a small table in the corner of the café, and made casual conversation while they ate their food. Eventually, they got onto one of the topics that they both knew would come up eventually: Hermione and Ron's row.

“…I tried to tell him that I wanted him to come with us, you know,” Hermione told him after Harry brought the topic of their row up. “Ugh! He's just so stubborn sometimes, Harry! All he heard was that you and I were going to Australia, and didn't bother to listen to anything else I was saying. He makes it impossible to talk with sometimes.”

Harry took a sip of his tea, and then responded. “That's how Ron always is with you and me though, Hermione. He's always had the fear that you and I would end up together,” Harry finished, avoiding eye contact with Hermione as he did.

“Yeah, well if I'm someone who he supposedly values so much, he's got a weird way of showing it, what by picking Quidditch over me,” Hermione snapped, her temper rising.

Harry placed his hand over Hermione's, giving it a squeeze of comfort. “Ron was a git. No one in their right mind would've chosen Quidditch over you.”

Hermione smiled at him, and then closed her eyes and shook her head. “It doesn't matter. I'm here in Australia; I'm going to get my parents back and make a holiday out of it all the while. Ron made his choice, and I made mine,” she finished in a whisper, looking directly at him.

Harry returned Hermione's stare, and couldn't wonder if there was a double entendre in what she said. The thought made him think of their near-kiss at Hogwarts days ago, and decided to bring the topic up again. “Hermione,” he began in a soft whisper, “there's something I want to talk to you about. At Hogwarts,” he started to say, only for Hermione to cut him off.

“Don't,” she said quickly, almost pleadingly. “All that happened was we got caught in the heat of a moment. What happened between us, no, what almost but never happened between us was nothing. An old flame reignited briefly, and that was it.”

Hermione looked away from him, but Hermione's response only made Harry want to question her further. An old flame reignited? Harry had no idea what she meant by that, and judging by her look, Hermione didn't mean to say it either.

“What do you,” Harry started to say, only for Hermione to swiftly rise from her chair, as if she couldn't hear Harry trying to say something.

“Come on, Harry,” Hermione said quickly. “We still have a few hours before we can check into a hotel, so until then, let's enjoy Australia.”

Without another word, Hermione started to walk out of the café, leaving Harry to follow her.

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Hermione's idea of enjoying Australia was first to research (or better described as quadruple checking) the address of Wendell and Monica Wilkins. According to Hermione's (expert) research, her parents lived in Cronulla, a suburb in southern Sydney. Harry and Hermione both knew that she knew to a tee where her parents were staying in Australia, however, Harry assumed Hermione was simply re-checking to kill time. However, for Miss Granger, it was also to let the tension diffuse between the two.

Somewhere in her mind, logic told Hermione Granger that spending quality time, in Australia, with Harry Potter could create some sexual moments between the two longtime best friends. Hermione could not deny that she found Harry to be a handsome man, and had always had a crush on him as a girl. Sure, she moved on to Ron in her sixth year, but Harry always had someplace special in her heart. Now with the war over, that special place was starting to beg for attention it seemed. Being alone with Harry in a beautiful place like Australia was sure to only make that place in her heart crave even more attention. Hermione did not know if she could avoid satisfying that attention, but she could at least attempt to prolong it. Avoiding any risqué situation would help prolong it, and there was simply nothing risqué in this research. However, if there was one thing that Hermione Granger loved, it was a challenge. The challenge to prove to herself she could shut out old feelings for Harry was a challenge Miss Granger would not, and could not, be able to resist throughout their stay in Australia.

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After spending well over an hour check multiple phonebooks throughout Sydney, and even calling the Wendell/Granger home - and hanging up as soon as she heard her mother's voice on the answering machine - the two went on to a new event: swimming in the ocean.

“Hermione, you do realize that it's not warm at all this time in Australia, right?” he asked her.

However, this was Hermione Granger, folks. If she's asked a question, she has an answer, but not just any answer. Her answer would let it be known she was right, and all was well. “We're wizards and witches, Harry,” she told him simply. “We can simply apply a Heating Charm to the water, and we're fine. This is our holiday too, remember? Let's enjoy it.”

There was no arguing with Hermione Granger on that topic. She won, case closed. The teens, after taking a quick train ride from the heartland of Sydney to Cronulla, the suburb of Sydney that was home to Monica and Wendell Wilkins, walked leisurely to Eloura Beach, a section of Cronulla Beach on the northeastern side. They found public restrooms by the beach, and after getting his own (re-enlarged) suitcase, Harry headed off to the Bloke's room, while Hermione the Sheila's. Harry came out of the washroom first, wearing a simple white t-shirt and black mesh shorts. He didn't expect to go swimming while in Australia, so he didn't pack a swimsuit. Hermione came out just a few moments later, and was dressed in just a yellow tank top and short dark blue jean shorts. Harry thought she looked very attractive, but little did he know what was still to come.

The two made their way down to the beach, and once there, Hermione set out two towels for them. “Ready, Harry?” she asked him. Not really knowing what she meant, he nodded his head anyways. Hermione then squatted down by the towel, and pulled out her wand from underneath it. She then walked down to the water, Harry following her. She squatted down next to the water, much like she did with the towel moments prior, and tapped the cold water with her wand, muttering the incantation for the Heating Charm. Harry, who walked into the cold ankle-deep water with Hermione, immediately felt the water's temperature increase to a much more comfortable level.

“I've never tried a Heating Charm on a large amount of water like this, so I'm not sure how far my Heating Charm will expand. If we stray too far away from this general area of the ocean, we'll feel that extreme temperature change again, only this time, it'll be hot to very cold,” Hermione told him in that know-it-all tone of hers, the tone that Harry and her friends adored, but the same tone that everyone else hated.

The teens walked back to their towels on the empty beach, and Hermione restored her wand underneath her towel. “Well, shall we?” Hermione asked him, standing back up to her feet. Harry nodded his head, and Hermione unbuttoned her jean shorts, sliding them down her legs and kicking them off. Harry took the hint, and removed his glasses and his shirt, while Hermione placed her hands at the hem of her tank top, yanking the top up and over her head.

Harry was in awe. Never in his life had Harry Potter looked at Hermione Granger the way he was now. Hermione had never shown herself to Harry in this light, but now, for the second time ever, Harry Potter saw Hermione Granger for what she truly was: a beautiful woman.

Harry had noticed Hermione Granger was a female at the Yule Ball three and a half years ago, but not until now did he notice the woman in front of him. She wore a white bikini, and while it was not scandalous by any means, it showed Hermione's gorgeous body. The top was tied at her back and behind her neck, and registered as proof that Hermione Granger, the nosy bookworm, had breasts. They were not large, but they were not small either. They fit her perfectly. Hermione's stomach was shown to Harry, and it wasn't the perfect tight and flat stomach of a model, but it didn't need to be. Like her breasts, her stomach, with the slightest bump to it, fit her. He noticed her legs, legs that seemed never ending. She had long legs, running from her feet and ending at the core of her, a spot Harry couldn't help but stare at for several moments. Wearing just the white bikini bottom, Harry couldn't help notice what Hermione's bottom only covered. And for the first time in his life, Harry coveted that hidden and secret part of Hermione's body. Harry desperately wanted Hermione to turn around, so he could covet more of her: her back, the back of her legs… her backside. Looking at Hermione, right now, Harry wanted it all.

However, there in was the problem. With Hermione showing her figure to Harry, he coveted and stared… at great length. It was obvious he was staring, and Hermione knew it. Unable to hold back an ear-to-ear grin and smirk, Hermione asked him, “Do you see something you like, Potter?”

Harry's eyes quickly jumped up to Hermione's face, her words snapping him out of his reverie.

Hermione continued to smirk at him as Harry tried, and failed, to answer her question with any actual words. Hermione did not think of herself as an attractive person, but watching Harry ogle her made her feel gorgeous, and dare she say it, sexy; Harry's fixation with her body gave her a sense of power and control, and oh how Hermione loved it. However, she knew Harry wasn't the only one who stared. While Harry did not notice Hermione checking him out - she was much more discreet than he was - Hermione gave Harry's body a quick glance. She noticed his sturdy shoulders, his defined chest and abdomen muscles, the trail of hair running from his belly button and into his shorts… she noticed that Harry Potter, for lack of better words, was hot. She was lucky, and more importantly, thankful, that Harry did not notice her staring. Instead of feeling embarrassed, she got that feeling of power.

After struggling for several moments to string together coherent words and sentences, Harry finally was able to regain some cognitive functioning. “Uh, wow… Hermione… you look…” he stammered, still trying to find the words to describe her right now. “You look great.”

“Thank you, Harry,” she replied, her face starting to redden in embarrassment. His words, while simple and by no means suave, still affected her, and Hermione started to feel herself losing control of her power she currently held over Harry. Wanting to get away from this situation, Hermione quickly said, “Let's hurry up and go swimming already.”

And with that said, Hermione took off, running into the water several meters before diving under the water. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry followed into the ocean after her, sprinting along the sand before jumping chest first into the water.

Harry and Hermione spent the next hour swimming in the ocean, simply enjoying each others company. While tension was evident at first, the longer the teens spent in the water, the cozier and more comfortable they became with each other. By the end of the hour, Harry and Hermione had spent most of their time playfully splashing each other, grabbing each other by their arms and/or around their waist, and dunking each other into the water. The teens had several moments of awkwardness, the most noteworthy when Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist from behind, attempting to dunk her into the water, only for Hermione to stiffen her body, wrapping her ankles around Harry's calves. The move ended up pushing her body back into Harry's, her arse digging into his crotch. Harry looked at Hermione, who turned her face towards him, but before anything could happen, a wave crashed into them from behind, knocking the two of them underwater. When Harry and Hermione came out from under the water, they were separated and laughing hysterically. They brushed the incident off as playful banter, and nothing was going to happen, although both Harry and Hermione silently wished something would have.

However, despite the moments of flirtation and fluff, their escapade in the ocean ended rather abruptly. After yet another dunk into the water by Harry, Hermione gave chase to Harry throughout the ocean. As Harry fled from the mock-angry Hermione, Harry ended up treading past the region of Hermione's Heating Charm, and his body suddenly tensed up from the extremely cold water. Shivers slid down his spine as he yelled out, “Bloody hell!”

Harry quickly jumped back into the section of the sea contained by Hermione's Heating Charm, but the jolt of freezing water was enough to end Harry's time in the water. After telling Hermione it was getting late, the two exited the ocean, grabbed their towels, and headed back up the beach to the washrooms.

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***********The Rydges Hotel, Cronulla, Australia***********

After changing back into their clothes, Harry and Hermione found the hotel Hermione planned to make a reservation at, The Rydges Hotel. However, despite having killed time at the café, researching, and swimming in the ocean, it was still slightly before 3 PM, so when the two went to make a reservation, they were told the only rooms the staff had cleaned and ready were standard queen rooms. Just needing to get a room, they made the reservation, and were led to their room. Once in the room, Harry and Hermione explored the room quickly, taking in its surroundings: the room had only one bed, a small couch, a television, two plush chairs, a balcony, and a washroom that had just a shower, toilet, and sink.

Not wanting to waste much time, Harry and Hermione each took a shower, changed their clothes, and ordered in dinner from room service. After the quick dinner, the two left the hotel, Hermione in utter glee to be going to see her parents once again. Hermione was able to get a taxi for the teens, and after giving the driver the address of the Wilkins household, the driver took off. It was not a long drive to Hermione's parents' house, roughly between fifteen and twenty minutes. Silence was the conversation in the cab, as Hermione was too nervous and excited to keep a conversation going more than two minutes. She just sat next to the window, staring out at the houses in the area, anxiously tapping her fingers into her palms and her lap, the rest of her body fidgeting intermittently.

Finally, the cab made a left turn into a small development of houses. After driving past two small streets in the development, the taxi made a right turn onto Stewart Drive, and stopped at the fourth house on the left. Harry, having received some Muggle money from Hermione, paid the driver, as Hermione had already opened her door and jumped out, taking in the surroundings of the Wilkins house. After Harry exited the taxi, the cab driver sped away, and Harry took his place beside Hermione, examining the house.

The home was a small two-story house, but looked very comfortable for just two people. There were several plants in front of the home, separated by the concrete walkway and steps that led to the front door. The house was painted white with red trim for the windows and door, and Hermione seemingly loved the home, in awe by its presence. Maybe it was just her glee to be near her parents, but to Harry, it was a nice home too. As Harry continued to take in the house and its “homey” feel, Hermione couldn't wait anymore, taking off at a brisk walk to the front door. Hermione quickly knocked on the door, no longer able to hold back her grin.

After a several second pause that gave Harry enough time to join Hermione on the top step, the red door opened, and Mrs. Granger, alias Mrs. Monica Wilkins, stepped into view. She smiled at the two teens, but had a puzzled look to her face. “Hello,” she said warmly, “can I help you with something?”

“Mum!” Hermione exclaimed loudly and then immediately jumped at her mother, hugging her tightly. However, Mrs. Wilkins did not return the hug, instead looking incredibly confused at why this stranger was embracing her.

“Uh, Hermione,” Harry said cautiously, pulling on her sleeve all the while. Hermione buried her head in her mother's collar, holding on for dear life, Mrs. Wilkins continuing to look confused, and now slightly worried about this person's mental sanity.

Hermione finally released her hug, and stepped back, tears in her eyes at the sight of her mother again. Her mother looked even more worried now, taking a step away from Hermione, and nervously looking over her shoulder.

Mrs. Wilkins continued to look worried at the situation at hand, and Hermione finally came to the realization Mrs. Wilkins came to as soon as the strange girl embraced her. The False Memory Charm hadn't been removed, so Hermione was not “her” daughter. The Wilkins family had no daughter. “Mum, it's me! It's Hermione!”

However, Mrs. Wilkins knew no Hermione, and still looked worried by this girl. “Um, I'm sorry, but I don't know a Hermione.”

Hermione was devastated. She took one long, hard look at her mother, staring deep into her eyes, almost as if she was trying to make her remember who she was. However, there was no recognition in her mother's eyes, and Hermione broke the stare, tears now freely flowing from her eyes. Frustrated and hurt, Hermione turned on her heel and sprinted down Stewart Drive, turning the way the taxi cab initially came, and out of sight within a minute. Harry was tempted to run after her, but didn't want to leave the Wilkins family in the confused state they would be in if he did leave.

“Sorry about that, ma'am,” Harry told her, now trying to think of a story to tell her, and deciding just to stick to the truth. “We've been traveling Australia, looking for her parents, you see. You, uh, you look like her mother, and she got excited since she hasn't seen her mother in almost a full year.”

Mrs. Wilkins nodded her head and smiled sadly, calm returning to her. “Oh dear, that's just dreadful,” she said somberly. “Will you let your girlfriend know that I hope she finds her parents?”

Harry opened his mouth to tell her Hermione wasn't his girlfriend, but for some reason, found himself not doing so. “I'll be sure to tell her. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Wilkins. Have a good night.” Harry then turned on his heel and started walking down the street, finding a good place to Disapparate back to the hotel, believing that Hermione probably went back there. As he left, Mrs. Wilkins watched him leave, the sad smile still on her face, while wondering all the while how the teen knew her surname; she didn't recall telling the two her surname during their mysterious and all-around awkward meeting.

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***********The Rydges Hotel, Cronulla, Australia***********

After finding a location hidden enough to Disapparate back to the hotel, Harry appeared back in their hotel room, landing from his Apparation right behind the couch. Harry regained his bearings, and after taking a quick look around the room, he saw her.

Hermione was curled up under the blankets on the bed, crying into the pillow. As Harry looked at her, he was hit hard in the stomach with the memory of when he, Hermione, and Ron were camping while on the hunt for Horcruxes. Ron had just abandoned the two of them, and Hermione was crying in her bed after searching the woods for the absent Ron. Then, Harry let Hermione be and she had no one to comfort her. This second time around, and Harry could not resist the temptation and need to be there for her.

“Hermione,” Harry said softly as he walked over to the bed, climbing onto it. “Hermione, it's okay. We can still remove your parents' memory charm.”

Hermione lifted her face out of the pillow, and looked at Harry through puffy, tear-stained eyes. She was a mess. “I know Harry, but they were my parents. I was staring right at my mom, and she didn't even recognize me! I couldn't bear to be there anymore; I'm so sorry for taking off.”

Hermione tried to speak further, but Harry scooted up closer to her, and covered her mouth with his left hand. With his right thumb, he wiped the tears falling from her eyes. “Don't worry about it, Hermione. We can go back tomorrow, remove the charm, and they'll see you again. Everything's going to be alright, okay?”

Having finished wiping the falling tears, Harry stroked Hermione's hair with his now free right hand, while Hermione scooted in closer to him, burying her face into his chest. “Thank you, Harry,” she said simply and softly.

Harry continued to stroke her hair, letting Hermione cry on him. He whispered, “I'm here for you, always remember that. Whatever you want or need me to do, I'll do it.”

Hermione brought her face out from Harry's chest, and looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. She smiled at him, albeit a sad smile, it was a smile nevertheless. She broke eye contact a few seconds later, and turned on her side, so her back was against his chest. She took Harry's right arm, and cradled it to her torso. “Just stay here, Harry. Please just stay here,” she finished in a whisper, pleading with him.

Harry said nothing in reply, but obliged to Hermione's plead. He inched forward slightly, closing the space between the two of them, and tightened the hold Hermione had on his arm, bringing her as close as possible to him. He laid there with Hermione, for how long he did not know, but Hermione eventually fell asleep, still cradling his arm. Harry raised his torso slightly, so he could look over her back and shoulder, and down at her face. She looked so peaceful in her sleep, and something else. Harry wasn't sure what it was at first, but then realized what he saw when he looked down at Hermione. He saw beauty. Earlier today, when he looked at her in her bikini, what he saw then was out of lust; she looked gorgeous and sexy then. Now, this was the real definition of beauty. The realization made Harry smile, and he laid his upper body back down on the bed, and closed his eyes, preparing to drift off into sleep as well, still holding Hermione to him.

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7. Chapter Six

AN: Hi, I’m not dead. Just severely inactive. I would LOVE to continue with this fic, or start a new one – something – but it’s not looking very likely. We’ll have to see how life goes. In the mean time, here’s a chapter to read =]. And yepp, HP isn’t mine, but this work is.

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Harry and Hermione were back at Eloura Beach, and like before, it was just the two of them. Thanks to Hermione’s Heating Charm, the two were able to swim throughout the Pacific Ocean without having to deal with the cold water. Hermione was again in that sexy white bikini of hers, driving Harry’s hormones crazy. The two swam around in the water for a few minutes before erupting into childish banter of splashing each other. After Hermione splashed Harry directly in the face, he chased after her, sending her treading away from him. Harry caught up to her, however, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, bringing her back into his chest. After catching her in his arms, Harry turned his face sideways, so he was looking into the side of Hermione’s face. Likewise, Hermione turned her face in kind moments later, so the two teens were looking directly into one another’s eyes.

No words were shared. Instead, each looked deep into each other’s eyes, waiting for the other to make a move. After staring each other down for several seconds, Harry slowly leaned his head down towards Hermione’s, opening his lips slightly. Hermione raised her face to meet Harry’s, and their lips touched in the softest of kisses. Immediately the kissed turned into something deeper, more passionate, and Harry kissed Hermione with everything he had in him. The two shared the heated kiss for seconds, moments, minutes, they didn’t know, before Hermione took charge, sliding her tongue out to touch Harry’s lips, begging for entrance. His mouth accepted, and Hermione slid her tongue into Harry’s mouth, his tongue meeting hers in a frenzied dance.

The two made out in the water for an extended amount of time, and as their kissing continued to become more lust-filled and passionate, Harry couldn’t help but have his erection dig into Hermione’s backside. Rather than being mortified, Hermione dug her arse into Harry’s crotch, creating a friction that felt so good, yet painful, for Harry. Harry couldn’t resist letting out a groan of pleasure, breaking their kiss. Hermione closed her eyes and continued to grind against Harry as he started to pepper her neck with kisses. Hermione responded with moans of pleasure; her moans gave Harry a sense of boldness, and he swiftly brought his right hand to Hermione’s right breast, palming and cupping it in his hand. That just caused Hermione to moan more and further grind against Harry’s crotch. Harry continued to cup and squeeze Hermione’s breast through the bikini fabric before finally grabbing Hermione by the waist and turning her around to face him. By doing so, he created space between themselves, but for some reason… Harry still felt that grinding sensation against him…

Harry opened his eyes, and found himself not on Eloura Beach, but in a bed back at the hotel. He was in the same clothes as the night before, and Hermione was up against him, grinding her butt up against Harry’s crotch. Harry quickly came to the realization that he was dreaming that kind of dream about Hermione, and when doing so, must have started pressing himself against her… and she grinded back against him in return!

Having realized the situation, Harry knew he should wake Hermione up or leave the bed, do anything to get out of the situation. However, just as he prepared to act accordingly, he heard it. The tiniest, softest, sexiest noise – make that moan! – escape Hermione’s mouth. He couldn’t see her moan, but if it wasn’t him, it could have only been her. She was unaware of what was going on, but she clearly was enjoying the sensations she was experiencing. While Harry salivated in this revelation, he was brought back to a harsh reality when all of a sudden, Hermione’s moans stopped. Instead, they were replaced by a scream of terror. Hermione jumped up to a sitting position, embarrassed and terrified by the realization of what just happened: Harry and I fell asleep together – in the same bed. He must have had a fantasy dream and started pressing up against me, and I subconsciously grinded back against him!

The two teens looked at each other, shocked and humiliated at what just happened. The two sat in silence for several moments before Harry started to open his mouth, trying to bring himself to say anything. However, Hermione beat him to it, screaming, “Get out!”

Instead of heeding Hermione’s command, Harry stayed where he was, sitting in the bed, the comforter and sheets bundled over him from the waist down. Her cheeks quickly turning red, Hermione commanded again, this time in a quieter, albeit harsh, tone, “Harry, get out of the bed! Please,” she pleaded with him.

Harry again failed to listen to Hermione, instead looking down at the bed, his face redder than the hair of a Weasley. “Hermione, I think it’d be best if you left the bed for now instead.”

Hermione looked at Harry, her anger dissipating as confusion took over her. Why did she need to leave the bed instead of Harry? She tried to look at Harry’s face, but it was fixated down on the bed… at his lap. “Oh,” she softly squeaked, coming to the realization of why Harry didn’t want to stand up. Hermione quickly covered her mouth with her right hand, her face somehow turning an even deeper shade of red than Harry’s face, and rolled off the bed and sprinted towards the bathroom. Hermione quickly opened and closed the door, creating a distant and safe barrier between the two.

Once Hermione was out of sight, Harry closed his eyes and fell back on the bed, desperately trying not to think about Hermione, his dream, or the ache of his erection. However, that was a task that he simply could not manage to do. Why in the hell was I dreaming about Hermione… like that!? She’s supposed to be my best friend – my sister – and I can’t do this! I know things have been different between us lately, and bloody hell was she hot in that bikini. But still, she is Ron’s now. I can’t think about her like this, he thought, looking down at his crotch. …Definitely not like this.

Harry realized soon enough that Hermione had decided to get a shower, and so Harry decided to quickly eat breakfast and pick out clothes to change into after he got his own shower. Harry ate in silence, trying to think about all things not Hermione. When she came out of the bathroom, thankfully fully clothed and not just in a towel, Hermione looked at Harry once, and then avoided eye contact, refusing to look or speak to him. For his part, Harry couldn’t help but allow his eyes to follow Hermione, but after several moments, stopped and gathered his things before heading into the bathroom for his shower.

As soon as Hermione heard the bathroom door close, she let out a deep breath, turning around to look at the empty room as she ran her right hand through her wet and wild hair. Hermione shook her head clear of thoughts of the previous incident, and gathered food to eat. She had no idea if Harry ate breakfast yet, and if he hadn’t, Hermione didn’t want to be there when he did. Right now, she wanted to keep conversation to a minimum with Harry, to avoid the embarrassment of this morning. As Hermione sat down and ate a slice of toast and fruit, she couldn’t help but replay the events of this morning. I was dreaming – what about I will never be able to remember now – and I felt something press up against my arse. I had no idea what it was, but it sent something through me… I liked it. I couldn’t resist pushing back against it, it’s like I had no control over myself or my body’s actions. Merlin, I can’t believe that it was Harry’s… thing! Dear God! I can’t believe I was pressing my arse against him like some slag. He must think of me like one now, I know it. He probably thinks I’m some common tart who threw herself at Viktor and Ron, Hermione thought, clearly over-analyzing the situation and thinking of the worst possible scenario. As she calmed down by drinking some of her glass of water, she couldn’t help but think of one last thing. I know I shouldn’t be admitting to this, but Merlin did it feel good to have… Harry… pressed up against me like that.

Hermione’s thoughts quickly changed their course as the bathroom door opened, Harry stepping out dressed for the day. Hermione quickly finished her breakfast, stood up, and brushed herself off. Just barely looking at Harry, she said, “Well, ready to get started for today? I think it’s best we go right back to my parents’ house first thing. There is a chance one of them aren’t working today since it’s Saturday. If we can remove one of the…”

“Hermione, you’re rambling,” Harry stated simply. “I know what we need to do, okay?”

Hermione glared at Harry, not happy with him cutting her off. While she knew she was rambling, it was certainly helping her take her mind off of this morning, which is what she needed more than anything right now. “I am not rambling,” she snapped. “I am letting you know of the agenda.”

“Yes, Hermione,” Harry explained, “the agenda that you and I have already discussed.” Hermione had no comeback for that; she knew Harry was right. She had probably bored him to death with all the planning she had come up with for this trip and recovering her parents’ memories and identities. The two looked at each other in silence, still feeling awkward and embarrassed about this morning. “Look, Hermione, can we please…”

“No,” Hermione cut him off, “not right now. There will be a time and place when we can and will need to talk about… that, but definitely not right now.” Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath before moving towards the door. “Look, let’s just go get a cab, go to my parents’ cottage, and do what we came here for.” And with that said, Hermione opened the door to their room, and exited for the hallway. Harry took one last look at their room, and followed her out the door, closing it along the way.

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Saturday, May 30, 1998 – 12:49 PM

After taking another drive from the Rydges Hotel to Stewart Drive in a taxi, Hermione was much more prepared to see her parents this time around. After already going through the shock of seeing her mother for the first time in almost a year, Hermione would be able to keep her composure this time around; she was sure of it.

As the two got out of the taxi, Hermione quickly paid the taxi driver the fee, and then stood on the sidewalk, facing the cottage. Harry and Hermione simultaneously turned their heads, looking at each other. “You ready?” Harry asked her cautiously. Hermione just nodded her head, wanting to keep her emotions in check. The two walked towards the door of the cottage, and as Harry knocked on the cottage door, Hermione whipped out her wand from under her right sleeve. The teens waited for several moments in silence, but the door to the cottage opened a minute later, out stepping Mrs. Monica Wilkins. She looked confused as to why the two teens, one of whom was completely barmy, were back at her house. Before she could say anything, Hermione raised the wand at her and said the incantation to remove the False Memory Charm.

Hermione looked at Mrs. Wilkins hopefully, but the woman just stood there blankly for several moments, her eyes glazed over. A few moments later though, the woman’s eyes returned to normal, and she snapped out of her reverie. She looked confused at the young woman in front of her, but broke out into an ear-to-ear grin a second later! “Hermione!” Emily Granger truly looked at her daughter for the first time in almost a year, opening her arms for her daughter. “Mum!” Hermione leaped at her mother, accepting her embrace.

Harry happily stood back as he watched Mrs. Granger and Hermione hug, the latter openly crying tears of happiness as they embraced. The mother and daughter hugged for several minutes, and when they finally released their embraced and looked at one another, Mrs. Granger did not look happy, but confused. “Hermione, where am I?” Mrs. Granger asked her. “I remember you coming home, and the next thing I know, I’m here hugging you. You have some explaining to do young lady!”

Hermione gave Harry a quick look before turning back to her mother. “Well, Mom, it goes like this…”

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Hermione and Harry spent the next several hours explaining what Mrs. Monica Wilkins has been doing for the past year, and what has been going on in England. Hermione told her that she placed them under a False Memory Charm and had them go to Australia so they could escape persecution from Voldemort. Hermione knew that since she was a Muggleborn and Harry’s friend, she and her parents would be a target; she had to do whatever it took to save them. However, Harry assured her that England was safe again, and that Voldemort had been defeated. They are free to go back home to England and return to their practice and life. While Mrs. Granger had a thorough row with the two teens throughout the explanation, she eventually came to understand why Hermione did what she did, and came to somehow love her daughter even more than before, something Mrs. Granger didn’t think was possible. However, she still had trouble coming to terms with her daughter being on the run from the evilest dark wizard of all time and the government for an entire year. “My goodness, Hermione,” she said as tears leaked from her eyes, “how did you survive that?

“Because we had to, Mum,” she stated simply. “We had no choice but to keep going and do everything that we had to do to defeat Voldemort.”

“I guess you’re not going to be wanting to go on our annual camping trip this summer now,” Mrs. Granger joked. “If I was camping on the run like that, I don’t think I’d ever want to camp again.”

Hermione laughed with her Mum, but shook her head eventually. “Actually, Mum, I want to go on our camping trip even more than ever now. I want to do whatever I can with you and Dad now that I have you back in my life. And, to be honest, I think camping for survival will give me a greater appreciation of camping for fun now,” Hermione finished, chuckling slightly. “Speaking of, now that you have your memory back, and Dad will have his when he comes home, we could go on a trip when we go back. I’m sure you want to go back home right away.”

Hermione avoided eye contact with Harry as she talked about going back home, and Harry knew exactly why. The plan was to stay here for several weeks and make a holiday out of the trip with her parents. Now, she was changing the plan, and Harry knew exactly why.

Mrs. Granger smiled sweetly at her daughter. “Oh no, dear,” she said cheerily, “this is the first time you have ever been to Australia, and I am sure it’s Harry’s first time too. We’re going to be staying here for a while still so you two can have some fun here. Although this isn’t the ideal time to be in Australia; it’s much better during our winter months.”

Hermione said nothing for a few moments, but then swallowed and smiled at her mother. “Good,” she stated simply. “I’m glad you’re going to let us stay in Australia for a while,” she finished, still avoiding eye contact with Harry.

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Harry, Hermione, and Mrs. Granger spent the rest of the afternoon casually talking, letting Mrs. Granger and Harry get to know each other, since the two never had a real conversation despite Harry and Hermione being friends for seven years. Harry also got to learn a lot about Hermione’s childhood (“Oh, our Hermione here didn’t want to be a witch when she grew up. She thought of nothing but being the Princess in a tower waiting to be rescued by the knight in shining armor,” Mrs. Granger said through fits of laughter, knowing she was embarrassing her daughter), giving him an even greater insight on his brainiac best friend.

Mr. Wilkins came home around 5PM, and when he did, Hermione quickly removed his memory charm, restoring him back to the mindset of Mr. Roger Granger. The four ended up having dinner and talking throughout the evening; again, Harry and Hermione had to fill in Mr. Granger on why Hermione put him under the charm and what has happened in England this past year. Mr. Granger was much more stubborn than Mrs. Granger about why his daughter shipped him off to Australia, but he became more complacent as he heard of the horrors of what happened, courtesy of Harry. While the Granger’s had no memory of their year in Australia initially, the longer they became accustomed to their original identity being restored, they also remembered everything about their year in Australia. The Granger’s talked about their experiences here, and while Hermione made it enjoyable for them, they always felt like they were missing something, and now they knew it was a someone, Hermione.

Watching Hermione interact with her parents, Harry could tell she hadn’t been this happy in a long time. For Harry, he was happy just to see Hermione this happy, but also was glad to finally converse with the Grangers and find out how good of people they were. However, Mrs. Granger put Harry – and Hermione – on the spot during dinner, creating an uncomfortable moment for the two. The foursome had been chatting about Hogwarts life and everything Harry and Hermione went through growing up there, and after a comment was made about the great connection they had, Mrs. Granger made the off-hand comment of, “I wonder why you two never ended up dating growing up.”

Mrs. Granger just so happened to time this statement as Hermione drank some of her water, and Harry swallowed some of his potatoes. Needless to say, Hermione ended up coughing and spilling water out of her mouth, and Harry choked on his potatoes. The two regained their composure eventually, but not after receiving awkward looks from the Granger’s. Hermione and Harry exchanged looks before Hermione stepped up to the plate to answer Mrs. Granger’s comment. “Mum, Harry and I have always been best friends. We don’t think that way about each other,” Hermione said, trying to prevent herself from blushing.

Harry gave Hermione an uncomfortable look before saying, “Yeah, Hermione and I are like brother and sister,” he stated flatly, clearing not believing what he said.

Sensing the tension in the room, Mr. Granger quickly turned the topic to Quidditch, letting Harry tell him all about the game, while Mrs. Granger gave her daughter quizzical looks. The tension died down eventually, and as the night started to wind down, Mr. Granger made the suggestion that Harry and Hermione stay at the cottage throughout the rest of the stay in Australia. “For starters, I’m not going to have you two paying for a hotel room when there is ample room in this cottage,” he stated. “Plus, this is a holiday for all of us. If we plan on spending it together, it’s much more simple for you lot to just be here with us at all time.”

Harry wasn’t going to argue with the man, he thought it was a solid idea, and he knew Hermione would love to be with her parents, so he answered before she even could. “That’d be great, Mr. Granger,” Harry responded with a smile. “All we need to do is check out and pack our bags, and we can be back over here for the rest of tonight.”

Mr. Granger nodded at Harry while Hermione finally made contact with him, smiling at him for his answer. Harry half-smiled in return, and the two gathered their things so they could head back to the hotel.

“Since it’ll take so long to get a cab, we’ll just Apparate back to our hotel,” Hermione explained to her parents. When she noticed their confused expressions, she elaborated. “Apparition is going from one place to another. It’s like teleporting, Dad,” she told him, knowing he’d be able to identify with that. Mr. Granger had a soft spot for science fiction.

Mr. Granger beamed proudly at his daughter, and a moment later, Harry and Hermione Disapparated back to their hotel room.

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***********The Rydges Hotel***********

As Harry and Hermione Apparated back into their room, the two immediately set about to gather up all of their clothing, back to staying silent with one another. While the two were able to get back into their usual groove while talking about Hogwarts and the war with the Granger’s, as soon as they got back into the hotel, the awkwardness apparated in with them. The two finished gathering their clothes and placing them in their respective suitcases, Hermione looked at Harry to see if he was ready to go back to the Granger cottage. However, what she saw instead was Harry sitting at the feet of the bed, looking directly at Hermione.

“What is it, Harry?” Hermione asked him.

“I just couldn’t help but think about what your parents said earlier,” he said simply, lowering his contact from Hermione to the floor.

Hermione tried to look at Harry as if she was confused, but she knew what Harry was getting out. “We talked with my parents for the entire day; they said a lot of things. You may want to elaborate.”

Harry rolled his eyes before raising his focus back to Hermione. Looking her square in the eyes, he blurted out, “Why didn’t we ever date?”

She knew he was going to say it, but wished he wouldn’t have. Hermione had wanted to come through this trip being able to resist the temptations she was having of doing something with Harry, and she had been failing that task completely. The more time the two spent together, the more heated and potentially problematic things became between them. Hermione knew the way Harry looked at her at the beach; she could see the desire in his eyes, for she had the same desire when she looked at him. This morning’s incident, well… that spoke for itself. And add on their near-kiss back at Hogwarts, and Hermione knew for sure, that things were clearly changing in her relationship with Harry.

Instead of being honest and telling Harry she had no idea, she played off of their answers from earlier. “It’s like you said, Harry,” she said flatly, “we’re like brother and sisters. We never thought about each other that way.”

Harry lowered his head back to the floor, pausing for several seconds. Hermione wasn’t sure if Harry was going to say anything more, and was just starting to turn around and check to see if she missed anything before Harry suddenly spoke. “That’s not true.”

Hermione turned back around to face Harry, looking anxious and confused. “What do you mean, Harry?” She asked him tentatively.

Hermione waited for Harry to raise his head and look at her in the eyes, but he kept his head at the floor. “What you said, what I said earlier,” he started before finally raising his head back up to look Hermione in the eyes, “isn’t true. There was definitely a time when I thought about you in that way, a time when I fancied you.”

Hermione couldn’t believe what she was listening to, and had to take a deep breath before she replied with anything, not wanting to say something silly that would make her look like a fool. In her silence, however, Harry continued speaking, standing up from the bed while doing so. “And ever since the Yule Ball, I knew I would never look at you like a sister, no matter what I thought… or said,” Harry finished, thinking of his conversation with Ron after he destroyed Slytherin’s locket.

Hermione went to speak, but Harry raised up his hand and walked towards her. “No, Hermione,” he said quickly. “If I’m going to say this, if I’m going to get it all out there, I need to do it now. This may be my one chance to truly have this talk with you, without anyone interfering, so bloody hell, I’m going to do it.” Hermione took a deep breath, stunned by Harry’s sudden monologue, letting him get everything off his chest. “In fifth year, after Cho and I broke things off, I had hope for you and me, Hermione, I really did. I thought that there was a chance you and I would get together. I think a lot of people thought it; so many people made off-hand comments about to it me. But then there was the Department of Mysteries… Sirius… everything got so screwed up. I was so afraid of the prophecy, and Ginny came along... I had a spell of normalcy with Ginny, and it was everything I needed at the time. But you, Hermione, you were there. For a time, it was you I wanted. And well, I think yesterday, just a couple days ago at Hogwarts, this morning… I think it shows that physically, I’m still attracted to you. I told you before, Hermione, you’re not ugly. You’re so far from it… you’re beautiful.”

Hermione was on the verge of tears from Harry’s words, she couldn’t believe how meaningful and beautiful they were to her. Harry looked at Hermione, unsure of what to do from here, but he was thankfully rescued by Hermione with a response of her own. “You’re right, Harry” she said in a soft whisper. “What I said earlier, it was a lie. When we were growing up, it was always you who I fancied. It’s like my Mum said, I was the Princess in the tower wanting to be rescued by the knight. You were the Boy-Who-Lived, the savior of the wizarding world; I wanted you to be my knight. Ron, he was a prat, I didn’t fancy him as we grew up together. I didn’t fancy him until sixth year, not until after the Department of Mysteries. Harry, I’m so sorry: when I got hit by Dolohov by that curse, part of me couldn’t help but blame you. You were our leader, and I counted on you to save me when I needed it. I foolishly thought the knight was always there to save the Princess, but I should have known that as soon as Voldemort returned in fourth year that the Princess and the knight, love conquering all, that was the stuff of fairy tale.”

Hermione paused, sniffling back tears, as she continued. “I couldn’t help partially blaming you for what happened to me at the Department of Mysteries, and by doing so, I pushed myself away from you, and right into Ron. But like you said, things got so screwed up after then. If that didn’t happen, well, I’m not sure how things would have turned out, but I don’t think it would’ve been like this,” Hermione finished in an even softer whisper than when she started.

Harry looked deep into Hermione’s eyes, gauging her emotions before responding. “I wish I knew what life would have been like if that didn’t happen, but we can never change the past,” he said sadly. “All that matters now, is the present,” Harry said as he took another step towards Hermione, so they were right in front of each other, “And what matters now, is what we said tonight. Do we stand as brother and sister?” Harry asked her in a soft whisper as his head subconsciously leaned in towards her.

Hermione closed her eyes for a brief moment before reopening them and answering Harry’s question, also whispering softly. “I guess not,” she said as her gaze lowered to Harry’s lips. “Australia has already proven us wrong in just a couple days.”

Hermione looked back at Harry for a few seconds, and Harry used that opportunity to follow-up on what she said. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said as he stared deep into her eyes. “Yesterday at the beach… this morning… right now…”

Harry leaned his face down towards Hermione’s, who raised her face in return. As the two started to lean in to kiss, the two quickly stopped and looked into each other’s eyes before continuing their agonizingly slow journey towards the other. Finally, Harry and Hermione’s lips met for a fraction of a second, but just as their lips barely touched…

*KNOCK* *KNOCK*

Harry and Hermione bolted away from each other like they had been shocked. “This is Alex of The Rydges, I’m here to pick up your baggage; you informed the front desk you’d be checking out now.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, horrified at what just happened, or almost happened, they weren’t quite sure. The two stared at each other in silence, not sure what to say or how to act now. The luggage boy knocked on the door again, and it seemed to snap them out of their reverie. “Uh, thank you, sir,” Hermione answered quickly, “but we’ll be fine. We’ll get everything ourselves. We already checked out, so we’ll be leaving shortly.”

Hermione gave Harry one last petrified look before hurrying over to her suitcase, picking it up in her hand, and Apparating away to the Granger’s cottage. Harry groaned in disbelief once she left, running his hands through his unruly hair. “What the fuck just happened,” Harry shouted aloud to no one but himself. I can’t believe Hermione and I just kissed – did we kiss? Our lips touched, but just barely and for not even a second, that can’t be an actual kiss. Bloody hell! What in the fuck is going on with me!? Harry screamed in his mind.

Harry walked around the room, pacing back and forth, trying to clear his thoughts. He knew that whatever just happened (almost happened?) between him and Hermione definitely just made things even more complicated between the two of them, and would make the rest of this Australia trip even longer. I need to calm myself down, and give me and Hermione time to ourselves so we can sort that whole ordeal out, he concluded to himself. Harry walked over to his suitcase, picked it up, and carried it out the door. It’ll be best to take a cab back to the Granger’s, he thought. As Harry looked back at his hotel room, he gave the bed one last look. “I bloody hate Australia,” he growled bitterly as he closed the door and headed for the front desk, knowing it was going to be a long trip back to the Granger’s, and the rest of his time in Australia would last even longer.

8. Chapter Seven

A.N. So this is where all the chapters I have written end, meaning if this continues, I have to start writing again. Fuck, I know. However, I would seriously like to try and re-start this, so hopefully there will be some new material soon! Thanks for reading!

Oh, and HP ain’t mine. Mer.

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***********Cronulla, Sydney, Australia – Granger/Wilkins Cottage***********

Wednesday, June 3rd, 1998

Ever since their near-kiss (yet again) encounter on Saturday night, Harry and Hermione once again became distant with one another. Since it was just the two of them and Mr. and Mrs. Granger in the cottage, the two were forced to spend a lot of time around each other. However, when the two were in the company of the Granger’s, Harry and Hermione kept to a routine of simple small-talk, keeping conversations as simple as possible, avoiding eye contact, etc. If the two hormonal teens ever found themselves together without the company of Emily or Roger Granger, they only had conversations of silence.

Naturally, Harry and Hermione’s chilly relationship would be noticed eventually. However, it wasn’t Harry or Hermione who decided to confront one another about their changing relationship and attempt to fix the problem, but Mrs. Emily Granger. With Mr. Granger at work and Harry off engaging in one of his new hobbies, running on the beach and exercising, Mrs. Granger decided she had had enough of observing the tense relationship between her daughter and her best friend.

It did not take Emily long to find her daughter, as when she walked down the stairs into the living room, there Hermione was, lounging back against an arm of the couch, entranced in a novel. As one would expect with Hermione Granger, she was so into reading the book that she did not even notice her mother walk down the stairs, stare at her, and then approach her. It was only when her mother sat on the couch next to, and partially on, Hermione’s feet that she looked up at her mother, folding the novel in her lap against her chest.

“Hello dear,” Emily said to her daughter softly. “What are you reading?”

Hermione smiled at her mom as she sat up against the arm of the chair. “Oh, it’s this novel called Message in a Bottle; it’s written by an American, Nicholas Sparks. It’s been published for a few months now, but I haven’t been able to sit down and read a new book in forever because of the war. I just wanted to have an old part of my life back.”

Emily patted her hand onto an empty space on the couch near Hermione’s feet. Taking the hint, Hermione repositioned herself and shuffled along the couch so she was next to her mother. “Look Hermione, there is something I think we need to talk about it,” Mrs. Granger started out, only to be interrupted by her daughter.

“What, Mum?” Hermione asked as she turned her head to look at her. “Did I so something I shouldn’t have?”

Emily chuckled, knowing her daughter was afraid she was in trouble. After all these years, whenever Hermione needed a lecture from one of her parents, she was still afraid she had misbehaved or forgotten to do a chore. “Oh no, my dear, nothing of the sort; actually, I wanted to talk to you about Harry.”

“Harry?” Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows. “Oh, he went out for a run on the beach this morning; he should be gone for quite some time I’d imagine.”

“Yes,” Emily stated simply, “I know that. However, that is not what I meant, Hermione dear. I meant, I wanted to talk about you and Harry.”

Again, Hermione raised her eyebrows at her mother, looking confused. This time, it was all a ploy. Hermione was smart enough to know that her mother was just like her when it came to intelligence and logic: Emily figured out her and Harry were acting odd around each other. “You and I both know that you two have been distant with one another ever since you two started staying here in the cottage with your father and I. You always said Harry is the one you never had problems with, so why all of a sudden is that not the case?”

Hermione lowered her gaze to her lap, not wanting to answer her mother’s question. Sensing Hermione’s discomfort, Emily wrapped her right arm around Hermione’s shoulder. “Hermione, whatever it is, you can talk to me,” she said softly. “You’ve always been able to come to me with your problems, dear; I’m sure I can help you once again.

When Hermione raised her head back up to look at her mother, her eyes were on the verge of tears. “Oh Mum,” she sighed, “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Things with Harry and I are such a wreck.

Emily nodded her head to show she was listening, and while she knew her daughter was stating the obvious, she was still lost as to how they got there. “Alright dear,” she cooed. “Why don’t you start from the beginning, and just vent the whole story. Maybe that will help you feel better, and most of all, get some understanding.”

Hermione wiped her eyes with her hands, and nodded her head at her mother. “Well, if we’re going to start from the beginning, I guess we’re going to have to go really far back. What I’m about to tell you, I haven’t told anyone, except for Harry, and telling him is what started this all anyways. Even so, I haven’t told him all of this either.”

“When Harry, Ron, and I started out at Hogwarts in our first year, it was Harry I had the schoolgirl crush on. He was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who saved the entire wizarding world from Lord Voldemort. Harry was famous, but kind and down to earth. On Halloween that year, it was him – with help from Ron, of course – who saved me from a troll. Harry was my knight in shining armor, my prince.

“Of course, I knew then what I was. I was the ugly bookworm. Even back then boys didn’t like me. I was the bossy know-it-all; that never changed. But over the years, I still maintained that silly crush on him even when I shouldn’t have. During our third year when we helped saved his godfather, Sirius Black, I grew to care about him even more, both as a person and as someone I fancied. In our fourth year, I used every resource I had available to me to help him in that Triwizard Tournament.”

Despite not wanting to interrupt her daughter from her tell-all monologue, she couldn’t resist the urge to interrupt her. She held her tongue about the troll incident – a tale she already knew, like everything monumental that happened to her daughter at Hogwarts – and didn’t ask for more details about her part in Sirius’ escape – she always loved hearing that story – she could not resist once Hermione started talking about fourth year, the year that everything changed for Hermione. “Oh,” she almost squeaked, “this is when you went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. He was that star Romanian sports player I remember you drooled about.”

Hermione swatted her mother in the arm and tried to glare at her, but couldn’t resist a laugh. “He was from Bulgaria,” she laughed, “and yes, I did fancy Viktor. He was a gentleman, and he of all people, a world famous Seeker, sought out bookworm Hermione. Oh Mum, it was so wonderful to be on the receiving end of that kind of attention. I mean, yes, I wanted Harry to ask me to the Yule Ball, but he was so infatuated with Cho Chang that I knew I didn’t stand a chance to be his date. But Viktor, he treated me with respect, he was a kind gentleman, and well, he was famous. That night at the Yule Ball, girls from Hogwarts – and Beauxbatons and Durmstrang – looked at me in envy. It was wonderful; I felt powerful and beautiful.”

“But at the end of the year, Viktor had to return to Bulgaria, and everything changed. Voldemort had returned, and the wizarding world was at war, whether they knew it or not. Fifth year, that was when everything just became chaos. Harry had to deal with the loss of Cedric Diggory and his confusing relationship with Cho. Cho was dating Cedric when he was murdered, you see. Harry was just as confused as Cho was, but right around Christmas time, the two kissed in the Room of Requirement. I had always been jealous of Cho; she was the pretty girl that had caught Harry’s eye, of course I’d be jealous. But when he told me what happened that night, I had never been more jealous of anyone in my life. It hurt to hear that, but I had to cover it up. I had to remember what my role was in our “golden trio”; I was the best friend of Harry Potter, the sister. I had no reason to be jealous, so I could not let my jealously show. And then, at the end of the year… everything just became rubbish. At the Department of Mysteries, all of our lives changed. I got wounded by a curse from Antonin Dolohov, and Sirius was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. I know I was never able to tell you much about them, but those were two of Voldemort’s most feared Death Eaters. I couldn’t even begin to describe the kinds of horror they inflicted over the years.”

Hermione stopped, not wanting to speak more of Dolohov. Out of instinct, her right hand lightly brushed her ribcage and rubbed along the right side of her chest and torso, the spot where Dolohov struck her with his curse two years ago. Emily held back tears from her daughter’s story, remembering the pain Hermione was in when she came home that summer, remembering the anguish she felt when she first heard the story of Hermione’s attack and the battle. Unsure if Hermione was finished, Emily stayed silent, choosing to place her right hand on top of Hermione’s left, squeezing and stroke the top of her hand.

Hermione smiled sadly at her mother, and then continued. “After that moment, everything changed. I blamed Harry for my accident, for my near-death experience. Harry was our leader; it was Harry who took us to the Ministry. I know now that my injury was not his fault, but that didn’t matter then. I was hurt, both physically and emotionally. I pushed myself away, and at first, Ron was there. Ron and I always fought growing up, but around fourth year, I started to spend more time with him alone. With him and Harry fighting at times, and I still friends with both, I spent quality time alone with each for the first time. I discovered more about the kind of person Ron was, and I have to admit, I grew to fancy him a bit. I knew he fancied me; he was so upset when I showed up to the Yule Ball with Viktor. But in sixth year when I pushed Harry away, that meant I tried to pull Ron closer to me. I convinced myself that Ron and I should be together, and I was so annoyed and childish when he started dating a classmate of mine. I acted so immature, and the whole time, I distanced myself even more from Harry and became more irritable with him as well. But as time grew on, Harry started dating Ginny, and Ron and Lavender broke up. When Dumbledore died at the end of the school year, Ron finally came out and told me how he felt, and just like with Viktor, I felt so relieved to know that someone actually fancied me. I mean, I always knew Ron fancied me, but to hear him say it, it made me feel like more than the bookworm that boys didn’t ever want to date. I felt like the beautiful woman that men wanted. “

Mrs. Granger squeezed Hermione’s hand again, and looked her in the eye. “Hermione, you are beautiful,” she told her. “You may be bossy, and you may be a brainiac, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are the most beautiful woman I know. In fact, those two qualities only make you even more beautiful,” Emily finished with a smile.

Hermione smiled back at her mother, flattered. “Thanks, Mum,” she said as she leaned into her mom’s ensuing embrace. After they released their hug, Hermione continued with her story. “I know you won’t be shocked to hear this, but there’s more. I ramble when I tell stories,” Hermione said sheepishly.

“You’re telling an excellent story, Hermione,” her mother responded with a grin.

Again, Hermione replied with a, “Thanks, Mum.” She sat up a little bit straighter, and then carried on. “This past year, I thought that Ron and I would make our relationship official, or at least something close to it, but it never happened. With us on the run so much, there was no time. The few moments we actually had alone together out camping, there was never enough time for us to have a serious talk about where we were heading, or one of us was too angry to have that talk. Ron and I only had minimal stolen kisses and hand holding as we fell asleep on rare occasions. It wasn’t until the final battle at Hogwarts when I threw myself at him did he really, truly kiss me. I didn’t even think about it, Mum. I just knew that it could’ve been the last night I’d be alive, and I had to do it. Ron had made a comment that touched my heart, and it was now or never at that point. And since Harry defeated Voldemort and we won the war, that one kiss Ron and I shared, it opened up our relationship. I thought I’d be happy.”

“But I wasn’t,” Hermione sighed sadly.”With the war over and time for everything to try and return to normal, things only became more confusing and rubbish. I thought that my relationship with Ron would blossom, but it hasn’t. We’re out of sync. When we kiss, Mum, it just doesn’t have any spark to it. In that one moment at Hogwarts, that now or never, do it because you might be dead, of course there’s passion in that! But now, now that I know I’m alive and I will be alive, it’s just not there. And Harry, oh Harry. Like I said, I’m alive, and I know it. I can’t blame Harry for the pain I received during the war, especially when I know now that it doesn’t even come close to the misery and suffering forced on him. I can’t push Harry away, not anymore. There’s nothing to create a barrier between us for me to push on. All of my old feelings, it’s like they are starting to return. But why now, Mum? Why do all of these old feelings for Harry return now, when I’m trying to start a relationship with Ron!? I know I said Ron and I are out of sync, but don’t you think that my feelings for Harry influence that?”

Hermione let out a deep breath of nothing but agitation and frustration. She closed her eyes and flopped back against the couch, flailing her arms while she did so. Emily examined her daughter’s actions, studied the emotions on her face, and tried to think carefully of what to say next. “Hermione, I want you to look at me,” she said sternly as she lovingly grasped her daughter’s hand.

As Hermione took her hand with her mother’s, she sat back up and looked her mother in the eyes once again. “The dilemma you are going through right now, believe it or not, is natural,” Emily said wisely. “Harry and Ron are the two people you spent your teenage years growing up with. It would only be unnatural if you didn’t have feelings for both of them. When you know two men as deeply as you know Harry and Ron, it’s impossible to not be attracted to qualities that they have.”

“I know Mum, but still,” she groaned, “I hate the fact that this is happening to me. I hate that I can’t control this. Before, I was able to push Harry away and fixate myself on Ron, but now, I’m flooded. There is nothing I can do. I’m mad at myself because I can’t change the way I feel, not about Ron, nor Harry. No matter what I do, even when I try and distance myself from Harry like I have been these past few days.”

Emily closed her eyes for a few seconds, thinking of how to word what she was about to say. Failing to be careful about it, she said, “Damn it, Hermione, that’s your problem.”

Hermione stared at her mother, taken aback by her swearing and brash statement. When she remained speechless, her mother continued, this time speaking in a much softer tone of voice. “Hermione, I love you more than anything, but dear, you are too controlling. You’re obsessed with having everything in your life in order, and darling, life does not function that way. You cannot control everything about your life, especially your feelings. Pushing Harry away like you did after your injury at the Ministry, that wasn’t healthy. You should’ve confronted him and told him of your feelings, of your anger!” Emily stared at her daughter, happy to know she was listening intently and taking in everything she was saying.

After a few moments pause, Emily looked at her daughter, taking both of her hands in hers once again. “I know I have given you exponential advice about life throughout the years, but what I am about to say to you, I want you to remember above all else right now. Sometimes, it is best to let life lead the way for you, not the other way around. You can’t force yourself to fancy one lad and not the other, and you can’t forcibly change your thoughts about a person. Alright?”

Hermione simply nodded her head, and hugged her mother tightly. Mrs. Granger hugged her daughter back, and then kissed her on the cheek as she released their embrace. “Hermione, I know this is a difficult situation for you, knowing that one part of you fancies Ron, and another part still has feelings for Harry. I’m not going to tell you who you should choose because I don’t think a simple choice can be made, and no one can say when a choice like that could be made. All I want you to do is follow your heart. Let your heart be your guide, find happiness, and don’t make any rash decision that you’d end up regretting. If you find happiness with Ron and have a big happy family with him, then I support it. If you find yourself with Harry and you’re happy, then I support it. If you find love with someone you haven’t even ever met yet and you’re happy, then I support it. I just want you to be happy, dear. And remember, you are young. No one is saying that whoever you fancy and date now will be your husband. You’re only 18 years old, Hermione. You may be a witch, but that doesn’t mean you find true love with the wave of a wand, or that you’ll be magically bonded to someone for the rest of your life. You’re young, and you have all the time in the world to find out who you are, what makes you happy, and who makes you happy. For all we know, Harry could be a person who makes you happy, and you’ve been pushing him away,” Emily finished with a nod.

The two sat in silence for several long moments before Hermione hugged her mom again, and as she cradled her face into her mother’s shoulder she said, “Thanks Mum, for everything. I love you.”

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When Harry came back from his run along the beach an hour later, Hermione did not approach him or try to talk to him. Instead, she waited, and waited some more. She kept waiting until after her father had come home, and the four went out to a local restaurant for dinner. While at dinner, Hermione continued her routine of the past couple of days, keeping her conversations with Harry at nothing more than small talk. Mrs. Granger kept glancing over at her daughter every time Hermione kept employing the tactic, but Hermione eventually silenced her with a look that told Mrs. Granger what she wanted to hear: she’d talk with Harry later.

After the four returned to their cottage on the outskirts of Cronulla, Hermione finally approached Harry as the Granger’s went downstairs to fold their laundry. Harry had gone upstairs to his guest bedroom moments prior, and Hermione followed him upstairs as soon as Mrs. Granger descended the stairs to the basement. Harry had left his door opened, so Hermione simply walked into the doorway, knocking on its frame.

Looking over his shoulder, Harry noticed Hermione and gave her a skeptical look. It was clear Harry was confused as to why Hermione would all of a sudden want to approach Harry, in his bedroom, alone. “Uh, what’s up, Hermione?” Harry asked cautiously, trying to act normal and remove the tension between the two.

Hermione smiled sheepishly at Harry. “Oh, not much, Harry,” she half-stuttered. “Look, um, I was wondering… would you come for a walk with me? I think it’s time we had a talk.” Hermione looked up at Harry hopefully, her insides begging Harry to come with her.

“Of course,” Harry said with a smile, “just lead the way.” The two shared a smile, and Hermione turned on her heels, walking down the steps, through the living room, and out the front door, Harry in tow.

The two walked side by side in silence for quite some time. Harry was a bit confused if he was supposed to say something as they walked past the development and headed in the direction towards the ocean. However, he kept his mouth shut, and let Hermione lead the way. Finally, after over ten minutes of just walking in silence, Hermione finally spoke. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she said just above a whisper.

Hermione stopped walking, and Harry stepped in front of her so they were face to face. Hermione lowered her face as Harry did so, but he cupped her chin with his right hand, raising it so they could look one another in the eye. She was crying. “Hermione,” he sighed, “please don’t. Don’t apologize; don’t cry.”

Hermione didn’t listen, instead breaking herself away from Harry and walking past him, continuing to walk towards the beach. Harry turned on his heel and followed, so they were walking side by side again. “Hermione, if you’re going to insistently apologize, will you at least tell me why?” Harry asked, even though he knew the answer.

“For everything, Harry,” she sobbed, “for being so cold to you these past couple of days, distancing myself from you, for letting you down… for caring about you.”

The two kept walking, and within a minute the concrete they had been walking on turned to sand as they found themselves on a beach. The two stayed silent for another few minutes, as Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to what Hermione said. As the two walked along the beach for a while, Hermione finally sat down on the beach, frustrated and upset that Harry hadn’t said anything in return. “Damn it, Harry,” she bellowed, “please say something!”

Harry looked at Hermione in shock; he didn’t know how to respond to Hermione right now. However, he knew he had to, and sat down next to Hermione in the sand as soon as she snapped at him. As soon as he did, Hermione turned her face to the right, so they were looking face to face again. “Hermione, right now,” he began tentatively, “I’m not sure how to respond to that. So instead, I’m just going to ask questions; let my mind process.” The two shared a look, and Hermione just nodded at him, giving him permission to ask away. “Do you really have feelings for me, Hermione?”

Hermione looked him directly in the eyes, and simply nodded her head at him, a tear slowly escaping from her left eye. Harry swallowed hard, shocked that Hermione just admitted to fancying him in some way. “Is that why you’ve been trying to push me away since Saturday, because some part of you fancies me and we almost kissed?”

The question was answered with another nod, but this time, Hermione looked away as she did so. Harry couldn’t help but smile though, knowing that Hermione had feelings for him. As Harry smiled, Hermione started to talk again, still looking away from Harry. “You know I always had that schoolgirl crush on you growing up, Harry, but these past few years, ever since Voldemort returned, especially after the Department of Mysteries, I never knew what laid ahead. When you told me about the prophecy, we knew it was either you or Voldemort. I didn’t know if you’d make it out of this war alive. I hate to admit this to you, but it affected my feelings. Just like getting wounded at the Ministry, and just like knowing Ron fancied me, it helped affect my emotions and feelings for you. But now, now that the war is over and I know you’re alive, it changes everything. Knowing that you have a future, it’s so horrible to admit, but it changes my emotions. I can have feelings for you and know there’s a chance for a future with you. I didn’t have that before. Oh, Harry, I know you must find me horribly shallow to think like that,” she finished with a sigh.

Harry gently wrapped his left arm around Hermione’s shoulder, and she immediately cradled her face into his chest. “There’s no way I could think of you as shallow, Hermione,” he said truthfully. “Honestly, that logic makes perfect sense. I always expected Ginny to have that conversation with me; I even tried to talk to her about the chances I’d die at the hands of Voldemort. She always brushed it off, like it wasn’t a threat or a possibility. If the roles were reversed, Hermione, I know it would have affected my emotions. If you were in a life-or-death situation, I would doubt your future. I wouldn’t want to, but part of me would. It’s natural, Hermione.”

Hermione raised herself up from Harry’s chest, looking him in the eyes and smiling sadly. Harry smiled a sad smile back, but reached out and wiped Hermione’s tears off her face with his thumb. When he was done, Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. Harry lowered his head, and kissed Hermione on the side of her head. “Hermione, you’re not alone, you know,” he whispered. “I’ve grown up with you these past 7 years; you know me better than anyone else does, and I’d like to think I’m one of the few people who knows you the best too. You’re beautiful, and I’ve spent both the best and worst years of my life with you. It’s impossible to not have some kind of feelings for you.”

The two sat there in the sand in silence for several minutes. Hermione eventually cozied her way back into Harry’s chest, and Harry kept cradling her closer to him with his left arm while absentmindedly running his right hand up and down Hermione’s right arm.

Finally, Harry broke the silence. He asked, “What happens now?” Hermione closed her eyes, although that was lost on Harry, as he couldn’t see her face. Hermione didn’t answer the question, instead staying silent. Harry didn’t want to push Hermione, letting her stay silent for over a minute before finally speaking again. “Please answer me,” he pleaded as he angled his head against hers.

Hermione stayed silent for a few moments longer before she reopened her eyes and answered Harry’s question, looking out at the ocean and the night sky. “Harry, it’s not that simple,” she somehow stated matter-of-factly. “Yes, you and I both have some sort of feelings for each other, but that doesn’t mean anything right now. I am still dating Ron, and you and Ginny are still in your… whatever. I still fancy Ron, Harry.”

Harry raised his head off of hers, and looked out to his right along the sandy beach. He shifted his arm from cradling her shoulder into him to her upper back, but Hermione still cradled her head into his chest. In fact, she snuggled against him even tighter. Seeing this, Harry smiled and placed his arm back around her shoulder. The two sat there in silence for a while again, before Harry blurted out, “What if I end my… “whatever” with Ginny?”

“It’s still not that simple, Harry,” Hermione responded. “No matter what, Harry, our relationship will be complicated now. We’ve been best friends for seven years, and our other best friend fancies me, maybe even loves me – who knows with Ron. Even if I didn’t have feelings for Ron, it’d still be complicated. Even if you didn’t have feelings for Ginny, it would still be complicated.” Hermione meant to say more, but cut herself off, agitated with the situation.

Harry closed his eyes, concealing the sadness in his eyes as the two continued to sit in silence. Almost five minutes passed before Hermione finally spoke again. Breaking herself away from Harry’s embrace, she looked him in the eyes and said, “Harry, no matter what, we will be complicated. But right now, all I want to do is enjoy Australia… enjoy your company,” she stammered with a shy smile. Harry smiled back and caressed the side of her face with his hand. Hermione rubbed her face deeper into his hand. “I just want to forget everything about this past year, all the horrors we faced. I don’t want to think or worry about anything while we’re here. I just want to be happy; I just want to be with you and not have to worry about things getting complicated.”

Harry caressed the side of her face again, and kissed her on the crown of her head. Hermione smiled and snuggled herself against Harry’s chest once again. Hermione smiled as Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder again, and the two teens spent the rest of the night just sitting in the sand, watching the waves crash to the shore, enjoying one another’s presence.