Turning Time by Lord Vader

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 06/12/2008
Last Updated: 23/12/2009
Status: Paused

The Wand of Destiny failed its true Master in his time of need and as a result, Harry was sent
back through time to fight a lost war again. This time he knows he has to be more prepared for his
unavoidable role in the conflict against Voldemort. He is pretty sure he knows who his true friends
are, he knows who is corrupt and who is good, yet he is not allowed to kill or save lives. Does he
finally realise the true worth of a certain bushy-haired girl? And what power does he end up using
against the might of Voldemort to defeat him once and for all? Please read and review!!




1. Just Before the Next Great Adventure
---------------------------------------




AN - I love the topic of Harry going back in time to change things and make them the way they
were supposed to be. I've read pretty much all the stories on PK and ff.net that deal with
this, (some are still in progress), but I've really wanted to write one of my own, so without
further ado... Here's Chapter 1!!




Chapter 1 - Just Before the Next Great Adventure




A jet of green light shot from the end of Voldemort's wand and at the same time the Death
Stick in his hands went flying away from his pale, long fingers and straight to its master, who had
come to take full possession of it at last. Harry, his hand outstretched to catch the wand with the
unerring skill of the Seeker, became aware of an oncoming bolt of green only a nanosecond before it
actually struck him squarely in the chest.

It seemed to take him an age to fall, as he tried unsuccessfully swerving to the side to dodge
Riddle's killing curse, he heard only the beginning of what would be a series of screams of
terror and agony from the defenders of Hogwarts and cries of jubilation from the horde of
victorious Death Eaters. For a fleeting moment, he managed to look at Hermione, tears dripping down
her beautiful face, her hands over her mouth as she watched in shock. Green eyes met brown ones for
barely a second, a second that contained all eternity, a second that epitomised seven years of
friendship, understanding, loyalty and...*love?*

He would never know, for he broke eye contact with the love of his life, toppling and striking
the ground with a resounding boom, the noise signifying the doom of the valiant freedom fighters
whose struggle had gone in vain.

Harry's body glowed golden for a moment before fading. The light went out of his emerald,
green orbs for the last time leaving them void and emotionless. His body burst into flames as soon
as this happened and even before he burned completely, his body vanished entirely. All that was
left was two of the Deathly Hallows and Draco Malfoy's hawthorne wand.

Harry coughed as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, looking around him. He got up from
where he had fallen and scanned the surrounding area. It was as if he was surrounded by clouds all
around and yet, he was definitely walking on a solid surface. It was not unlike the limbo he had
entered just an hour ago, and yet there were a few changes.

The whimpering, pitiable, stunted creature was not there this time, however there were two other
people sitting on chairs. One of them was an old man who looked as though he had enjoyed everything
life had to offer him, and the other was a young woman who looked to be in her early twenties. She
looked like she had been crying for some time.

Harry took the seat by the old man and asked in a seemingly conversational tone, but in reality
wanting to make sure, 'So we're dead, huh?'

The old man looked increduously at him for a moment, before asking him how he died.

'Well,' Harry said, not wanting to go into the details with this stranger, 'I did
something as an experiment pretty sure it would work but it backfired.'

'Youth,' the old man muttered, looking away from Harry and chancing an awkward glance at
the woman beside him, as though she too had tried something which had failed. The lady took no
notice of the man, too wrapped in her own misery. Harry became curious as to how she died.

Harry didn't bother asking the man how he died, for it was fairly obvious that he had died
of old age. He was also pretty sure this man wasn't British, as he didn't recognise the
Harry Potter. He looked past the man back at the young girl, wondering for an instant whether she
too had been killed. If so, she was taking the news much worse than he was, although that thought
sickened Harry. He was dead. Voldemort had won. He had failed the Prophecy, failed the world,
failed Dumbledore, failed *Hermione.*

His heart clenched at the thought of Hermione. He loved her and he had failed her. Tears started
leaking from his eyes as he thought of how all they ever shared was that one magical hour that cold
night when Ron had left. That was all they had to remember.

*That's all she has to remember me by. I'm dead, remember?* Harry thought
dejectedly, playing with the hem of the clean, white robes he seemed to have received in
'heaven'. Or was it hell he was going to because he had let the world down?

He looked up again when he heard a crisp, confident voice cry out, 'Robert Fiendthorne, a
hundred and seven!' He watched the old man walk to a small door, and just like that, he
vanished.

He shifted himself so that he was sitting next to the young woman. He looked at her for a
moment, wondering if he could ask.

'I was killed, if you really want to know,' she said softly, not looking at him.

'Oh, I'm sorry, are you from England?' Harry asked sympathetically, wondering for an
instant whether this girl had died because of Voldemort.

'Yes, I was killed by the Snatchers by order of *Dolores Umbridge,'* she said,
spitting out the last two words.

'Are you Muggle-born?' Harry asked.

'Does it really matter? I'm a person. It was horrible. I'm glad I got to live so
long - You're Harry Potter!' she exclaimed suddenly on noticing his scar.

'Yes I am,' Harry replied monotonously, somewhat startled from her abrupt change in
tone. He couldn't believe his luck. Even in limbo, he had people noticing his scar and
gasping.

'So if you're here, then that means...it's over? Y-You-Know-Who's won?' she
gasped, and then quickly added, 'I'm Nora Brighton, by the way.'

'Yes, I guess. I-I'm sorry, Nora. I really tried my best. I always had a feeling that
Voldemort could somehow be defeated. But the truth is, Voldemort won the moment Albus Dumbledore
fell from the lightning-struck tower.'

'It's ok,' she whispered, placing her hand on his, looking into his eyes. Harry
looked away, feeling unexpectedly nervous at being subjected to her stare. For some reason, this
woman reminded him a lot of Hermione. The depression that he had managed to ebb away for the time
being, came back to him, hitting him like a slap on the face.

What would happen to Hermione now? She was a Muggle-born. His body crumbled as he thought of the
certain cruelty they would inflict upon Hermione. Would they give her a painless death by an Avada
Kedavra, or would they torture her as a pastime? Bile swept up in Harry's throat as he thought
of Hermione screaming in agony, worse than she did in Malfoy Manor. He fell from his seat, slumping
to the floor with a strangled moan, his head in his hands. He cried softly, just barely noticing
that Nora had also gotten down on the ground, wrapping her arms around him softly. He stayed like
that for a moment, trying to imagine and convince himself that it was Hermione who was embracing
him, with her light vanilla fragrance and her ever-knowing nature.

'I'm a Muggle-born, I passed out of Hogwarts five years ago. My parents were school
teachers. After Professor Dumbledore died, I hid my parents and myself away in a different part of
England, and till now, we evaded capture,' she said, crying softly.

Harry looked at her, waiting for her to continue, forgetting his own grief for a moment.

'And then... then they arrived. Umbridge blasted down our main door, and she marched in with
ten Snatchers surrounding her. I don't want to go into the specifics but she was the one who
killed my parents and my little sister. Then she came upto me and spat in my face telling me that
those filthy Muggles should have considered it a great honour to be personally killed by her. She
then sat in a chair and then called two of her thugs to...to deal with me,' she said.

'Oh, so then they...they k-killed you?' Harry asked, feeling repulsed by how insincere
his words sounded.

'No...they first...played with me, and then they...they killed me,' she whispered.

Anger arose in Harry, he clenched his fists and willed himself not to roar in frustration ; he
couldn't believe that anyone could do something like this. She was just an innocent, pretty,
young woman who suffered all this because her parents were Muggles. Briefly he wondered if
atrocious things like this happened very frequently throughout the last year when they were hunting
for Horcruxes.

'I was saving myself, because...because I was going to get married in three months, I even
had a r-ring,' she said, now crying openly, rubbing her right index finger over her left ring
finger, staring at the ring wistfully, unable to speak any more words.

Harry too couldn't stop his tears as he took Nora into his arms, running his fingers through
her long hair, whispering cooing words into her ears. He was always bad at dealing with crying
girls, pity he knew what to do with them only after he died.

He didn't know how long they stayed wrapped in each other's arms, taking comfort in the
other's presence, but they were brought back to earth, or limbo rather, when they heard a
familiar voice call out, 'Nora Brighton, twenty-two!'

Nora stiffened, moving away from Harry, looking fearfully at the door from where the voice had
sounded. She got up to go, looking back at Harry with a sad smile. Harry also got up and went
toward her.

Taking her hands in his, he said, 'You're a good person, you haven't sinned in your
life, which means nothing bad will happen to you when you go in there.'

'But I'm dead,' she complained, trying to rub away the fresh tears forming in her
already red and puffy eyes.

Harry only smiled. 'Don't pity the dead, pity the living, and pity those who live
without love, an old friend told me, or something to that effect,' he said, massaging the back
of her hand soothingly.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Nora's face. Pleased with himself, he added, 'And that
same person once told me that after life, death is but the next great adventure.'

He bent over, and cupping her cheeks, he gently kissed her on the lips. It wasn't meant to
be romantic, but only comforting and supporting, something a peck on the cheeks couldn't do.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and drew away from him, walking towards the door of Fate.

Harry sat down with a sigh, thinking of how he was alone again. He thought of everything that
had happened in his life. The night Ron had left. How he had initially just thrown a blanket over a
weeping Hermione, but later on had gone and comforted her. They had lain together silently for what
seemed like hours, holding each other close, never letting go of the only other person they had in
the world at that moment.

Then they had opened up to each other in a way they never had before and started talked about
their views, their dreams, their feelings. He remembered how Hermione had told him how she had
developed a crush on him sometime in third year, but later pursued Ron, when it was becoming
apparent that Harry would never see her that way. He grieved for not seeing what was right in front
of him all along, how he had noticed Cho, even Ginny, Ron's little sister ; when all the time
Hermione was right there at his side, as she always was.

They told each other they loved the other. Both of them confessed that they couldn't go on
without the other in their life and Harry cried silently as he remembered how they had mutually
agreed not to do anything, not to act on their affections, because by that time, they had already
made unspoken commitments to the youngest Weasleys. Harry and Hermione knew that Ron was their best
friend and he would soon be coming back after getting over his anger. He couldn't do this to
Ron, he always got everything Ron wanted without even trying too hard for it, and now if he started
anything with Hermione, Ron would be crushed. He wouldn't take something that Ron wanted so
badly away from him.

Harry cursed softly to himself as he imagined the choice he had made that day. The choice he had
made to reject Hermione's love. The decision they had both agreed upon. He had picked what was
right, not what was easy.

But still, neither of them wanted to live the rest of their lives without anything ever
happening between them. They didn't want to be with other people, knowing that they never did
anything together.

He and Hermione agreed that they would be each others' first. Neither of them wanted to lose
their virginity to any other person in the world. It was fitting and it was the best they could
settle for.

One hour of togetherness was all they had shared. Only one hour. It wasn't fiery, hot and
passionate, but slow, gentle and loving. Each stroke that Harry made within her reminded both of
them of all the things they had done together. It reminded Harry of the fact that not once in his
life as a wizard, had Hermione left him to his own devices. Even now, with the Horcrux hunt going
poorly, Hermione was with him, standing firm. She was his rock. Unbeknownst to the other, both of
them vowed silently in their minds that they would never forget this night, this one hour. Even
before they died, they would take not memories of their lives with their to-be spouses, but that of
this one hour.

Weeks passed by, and even after the life and death situation at his ancestral home, Harry and
Hermione found only themselves to talk to. Harry began to get a hopeful feeling in his chest that
Ron had given up completely on reconciling with them, and by extension, on Hermione.

He approached Hermione in her bed for the first time since that night. He discussed what was
going on in his mind, about the chance they still had. To his delight, Hermione agreed. She said
that Ron had almost certainly abandoned them for ever, and that it was nearing two months since his
departure.

Hermione told him that they would have to be fair to their best friend, and that they would wait
exactly another week, before starting what would hopefully be a glorious relationship. Hope
blossomed in Harry, things started becoming clearer to him. He couldn't stop smiling ; he felt
as though he actually had a future, even though the Horcrux hunt was going terribly.

Three days later, on what seemed to be the coldest morning of that season, Harry arose early and
spotted something suspiciously bright outside the tent they were camping in. It led him to a
beautiful projection of a silver doe. However, for Harry and Hermione, the outcome wasn't so
beautiful as it brought an end to whatever lingering romance they had.




*




Harry remembered as the days passed by, as more and more people they knew died, till finally all
thought of romance was driven away from his mind. No matter what happened, things would never go
back to how they were before. Too many people had departed, too many things had changed and Harry
and Hermione's friendship never remained the same again.

The last six hours was like a mass funeral for Harry. He remembered with a jolt as Remus and
Tonks had both died within seconds of each other, as Fred and George were blown to smithereens, as
Hagrid was hit from behind by his old nemesis McNair, as Neville and Luna were hit by random
Killing curses. Then brave Kingsley and McGonagall, who were killed by Lord Voldemort himself. Mrs.
Weasley, though quite a formidable witch, proved to be no match for Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry
still thought that after all that death, he was in with a chance due to the allegiance of the Elder
Wand, but apparently he was mistaken.

He frowned as he remembered his last moments on Earth. He still didn't understand what
happened. Wasn't the Elder Wand supposed to not harm its master?

Before he could think about the matter any further, he was interrupted by a voice.

'Harry Potter, seventeen!'







Please REVIEW!! I have every intention of making a novel-length fic out of this, and your
reviews will motivate me even more!









2. Discussing death with Death
------------------------------

So, here it is, the next chapter you've been waiting for (I hope!).




Chapter 2 - Discussing death with Death




*'Harry Potter, seventeen!'*




Harry got up with a start, and looked around. He couldn't remember where exactly the old man
and Nora had gotten off to when they were called. He took a few steps forward and then felt a
slightly alluring force draw him to the left. He followed it with a little trepidation, not knowing
whether God would appear suddenly, greeting him warmly, or whether it would be the Devil who would
put him to hard labour immediately.

He walked towards what seemed to be a thin veil of silvery-white mist and slowly stretched a
hand to touch it. A tracing of a gold arch appeared out of nowhere, and extended to take the form
of a door. Harry stared at it blankly for a couple of seconds, wondering whether he should knock
first or just turn the knob and walk in.

'Don't stand there all day admiring my door boy, get in here!' a grumpy voice
sounded out, startling Harry.

Harry turned the knob, opened the door and stepped in cautiously, his senses on wide alert.

'Don't be so tense boy, you're already dead, at least for the moment, so I can't
harm you anyway,' the same voice said, and Harry abruptly turned towards the direction he had
just come from.

There, instead of a door, was a big, heavy, furnished wooden table with a huge amount of papers
scattered all over it. A bearded middle-aged man of average build was sitting in a chair right
behind it, looking at Harry intently.

'So..um.. are you God or Fate or... whatever you call it?' Harry asked stupidly, knowing
immediately when he said those words that heaven's first impression of him was not a great
one.

The man, who had been looking at him all the while with an expressionless face, promptly burst
out into loud guffaws. Clutching his stomach, he regarded Harry with tears of laughter in his
eyes.

'I sit in an ordinary desk with a nearly broken chair, I'm unshaven and I call out names
every twenty minutes. Do you really think I'm God?' the man asked sarcastically, yet there
was no malice in his voice, only humour.

'No, I guess not,' Harry said embarrassedly, as the man gestured for him to take a seat
in the chair opposite to him.

Harry sat down with a sigh, his eyes wandering over the stack of papers littering the table,
wondering if any of them were death warrants that sent people here in the first place.

'So, you were hit by a Killing Curse, am I correct?' the man asked, his eyes skimming
through one of the many bundles of papers.

'Yes,' Harry replied monotonously.

'Merlin's beard, you've got so many-'

'Steve! How many times do I have to tell you not to say that word! It's barely
acceptable when our new clients say it, but you've been here for the last sixteen years, I
think at least you should've grown out of saying it by now,' a cool, female voice
interrupted him, although it was impossible to discern the direction it was coming from.

'Sorry Jenny,' the man said and mockingly added, 'You're not going to fire me
for that, are you?'

'Nope, you won't be fired for that,' she said calmly. 'But that's because I
have other uses for you,' she added.

Steve turned slightly red and muttered something incomprehensible.

*'Gee, I didn't know people flirt in heaven too,'* Harry thought, looking at
the older man thoughtfully.

'Yes, things aren't as dry and boring as you probably expected them to be,' the man
said, all traces of a blush gone from his face as he looked back at Harry, 'We're people
too, people who can laugh, fight, talk etc. We just happen to be dead,' he finished.

'I wasn't judging you, I was just taken aback is all,' Harry said defensively.
'And do *dead* people sneak up on other people's thoughts and display them?' he
added waspishly.

'Nope, that part isn't in the job description ; but you do to seem to wear your emotions
on your sleeve, I can feel the radiation of your thoughts from over here,' the man said, not in
the least perturbed by Harry's biting remark.

'Fine, I suck at Occlumency, so it's easy for you to read my thoughts, why don't you
just-,' but he was interrupted by an even louder roar of laughter than the first one. The man
banged the desk with his fists several times, unable to articulate a single word as he almost
choked.

'Occlu-Occlu- Hahahahaha oh-' the man wheezed out, 'Mother of Mer-SORRY!' he
immediately shouted out, to prevent Jenny from getting on his case again. He composed himself
quickly and then waved his hand in a swish and flick motion, and a glass of red brandy appeared out
of nowhere. He took a long sip from it, and sighed contentedly.

'This isn't a classroom, where your horrible excuse of a teacher looks deep into your
eyes to get information from you. You're dead boy, this is limbo or heaven or hell or whatever
the hell you want to call it ; this isn't some interrogation cell where your interrogators use
Legilimency against you followed by a good round of pain.'

'Then how did you read my mind?' Harry asked obstinately,

'Never you mind. Now that's about enough of socialization for today. Let's get on
with why you're here,' the man said, a ghost of a grin still remaining on his face.

'Well, that's pretty obvious isn't it? I'm dead and I've been-'

'Let me rephrase for you, young man, you really seem to need the use of exact words and a
bit of spoon feeding to solve any puzzle given to you. You're already dead, or at least you
seem so, and regarding you, as usual, the case is a little awkward,' Steve said.

'How so?' Harry asked, ignoring Steve's jibe.

'We're not sure if you're going to remain dead. In fact, we're pretty sure
you're gonna' go back,' Steve told him.

'Why's that?' Harry asked in surprise, and added, 'And we means - you
and..her?'

'Well, it's not in my place to tell you the mechanics of the whole thing, actually it
wasn't even in my place to tell you that you'll probably be getting a second chance..
That's Jenny's job,' Steve replied, finishing his drink.

'Ookaay,' Harry responded slowly, 'So what are we sitting here for?'

'Well, as you've probably figured out I am the gatekeeper of Death, and I'm here to
discuss your condition and history and then lead you to the appropriate place,' Steve said.

All kinds of questions were forming themselves rapidly in Harry's mind and he couldn't
decide which one he should voice first. But then Steve interrupted him.

'Whoa-whoa, there's no satisfying your curiosity, is there?!' Steve exclaimed.

'You can choose not to read my mind without my permission,' Harry grumbled.

'As I said before, it's not your mind I'm reading, it's just the vibes
you're sending out-'

'All right,all right, I got it, the vibes, the radiation. Now can you just answer my
questions? What do I get a second chance for and why do I get it in the first place? What's
Jenny's job in this limbo and what appropriate place are you taking me to? And what's wrong
with my history? I'm a normal seventeen year old who just happened to get killed,' Harry
said, firing out everything that came to his mind.

'I told you already, it's not in my place to answer all your questions. But here's
what I *can* tell you. Your history is quite eventful, as are your brushes with death.
We've actually seen your shadow and almost your whole body appear here before in the past, but
then either you miraculously recovered or someone saved you in the nick of time.'

'How many times have I been here before?' Harry asked.

'Almost ten. Eight or nine depending on your viewpoint,' Steve replied. 'First time
when you were eleven, you got into a fight with a teacher and you actually appeared here for a
second, but then you somehow killed him just by touching him, and then *he* landed up here
instead. Then exactly a year later, a big snake mauled you and we were pretty sure you would soon
be meeting up with us, but then an unheard-of creature, probably the only one in existence, saved
you by crying all over you. And then, barely six months later, you fell a hundred feet off a
broomstick. You were hovering between here and there for a week, if I'm not mistaken. All the
people who died all over the world in that interval had a real bad experience in this place because
of you. Next, next, where is it?' Steve asked himself, his eyes perusing the bottom of one of
the pages. He turned the page and continued.

'Okay, next was when you were almost fifteen. You shot a disarming spell, of all things,
against a *Killing Curse.* For a couple of moments, your whole body had appeared here and you
were looking around. But then you went back to where you were, and in your place, the ghosts of one
Cedric Diggory, Bertha Jorkins and Lily and James Potter appeared here. That *also* scared the
hell out of the two people who were here at the time, 'coz only solid, real bodies of people
can turn up here. Nevertheless, you had a better record for the next two years. There was a time
when you were nearing sixteen when we felt some foreign presence take over your body back on earth,
while your soul made it over here. No one could see you, but we felt your presence as you were
struggling to regain control over your mind. Again, you scared the poor people who were waiting
here at the time. But you seemed to have gained some motivation from somewhere. You brought out
some inner strength from Merl- god knows where and you fought him off. I must say, we really
toasted you for that boy, we rarely see such courage and determination,' Steve said.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Fortunately, Steve continued speaking.

'You can take that as a compliment, Mr. Potter, we rarely give them around here. So, moving
on, your sixth year wasn't that bad per se. Oh,wait,wait you took a nasty one to your head
again, which cracked your skull open. For normal people, that's fatal, but for you, it's
routine.'

Harry grimaced as he remembered Cormac McLaggen's swipe at him. Steve continued.

'Then, the icing on the cake. Your would-be seventh year. First, you fought an aerial battle
against your nemesis. We all thought he or his cronies would finally get you but then you produced
the Aureus Flammare from your wand, something that Dumbledore could never do. Then, started the
period of darkness. More and more half bloods and Muggle-borns were popping up over here. At around
Christmas time, you decided to grace us again with your momentary presence. I think it was a snake
again that did you in. But this time you were saved by your girlfri- uh- a f-friend of
yours.'

'You're right Steve, Harry was pretty lucky that time to be saved by young Miss
Granger,' a female voice spoke and Harry looked to the side. Steve immediately stood up in
respect for his superior and tilted his head slightly forward in a bow. Jenny merely gestured for
Steve to sit down and smilingly took a seat in an opulent armchair she had just conjured for
herself.

'But of course, Hermione was always there for you, whenever you needed help, whenever you
needed support, whenever you needed saving or even whenever you just needed a biff up the hooter.
Pity you never realised that,' she said sadly.

'What?! Of course I do! You have no idea-how much-how much I...,' Harry started angrily
but then broke off, unable to complete the sentence.

'What? How much you what? Ignored her presence? Mocked her ideas? Chose Ron over her a
countless number of times?!!' she snarled, disgust and fury evident on her face as she folded
her hands in front of her and crossed her legs.

'I...I..' Harry started weakly, but even what little argument he had died down in his
throat, as deep down in his heart he knew that Jenny was right. Over the last seven years, although
he called both Ron and Hermione his best friends, his subconscious always placed Ron as his
dearest, irreplaceable best friend and brother, while Hermione was subtly shunted into the
background.

'She thought the broomstick was from Black and she cared enough to act on it, even though
she knew you would probably get angry! She believed you about you not entering your name in that
stupid tournament when *Ron* wouldn't even give you a second look! She bore all your
temper tantrums and moods even though it was driving her up the wall! And why did she do that?
Because she was in love with you, that's why!! But what did she get in return? All she got was
your irony, your ridicule, and also the pleasure of seeing you go out with other girls. That's
why she gave up on you, that's why-'

'She didn't,' Harry interrupted coldly, looking Jenny in the eye.

'Pardon me?' Jenny asked, while Steve looked on.

'She never gave up on me completely,' Harry said frigidly. 'I was a fool all this
time, but this year changed a lot of things. I know I'm in love with her too,' he said, his
eyes reminiscent.

'But wasn't it a little too late for opening your eyes? You could've had years
together, years of loving each other, of knowing each other.. When you finally *did*
understand, by that time, both of you had already chosen your path with other people. Both of you
with the Weasleys. Do you even have an inkling of an idea what Hermione was feeling, the emotional
turmoil she was going through when she decided she would stay with you to hunt Horcruxes rather
than go with Ron? She was in love with you till some time previously, she gave up on you because
you didn't give her a single opportunity for her to prove that she could be a suitable romantic
possibility. She decided to set her heart on Ron to avoid any pain or trouble, as Ron also was her
best friend ; plus he had certainly fancied her for more than two years by that time. And when the
time came for her to choose between the same, what did she do? She chose you. And what did
*you* do? You threw a blanket over her and went to sleep.'

'HEY!' Harry protested loudly, 'I realised some time later what Hermione truly was
to me, and I went to her. I understood, I came to know at that crucial time!'

'Let me put it this way. You stalled right, you didn't go to her immediately as you very
well should have, right?' Jenny asked challengingly.

'Well, no,' Harry said, but before he could say anything else, Jenny interrupted him
again.

'Why? What was the reason for the delay?' Jinny asked.

'Well, it was...well all I could picture at that moment was Ron's contemptuous
expression ridiculing both of us, and well... I guess I just sort of hesitated,' he said.

'Of course, Ron is always the first one to enter your thoughts, isn't he? It's like
a bloody default setting : First Ron, then if time permits, Hermione! Ron just commits the most
heinous of betrayals, when your other best friend unselfishly chooses you even though it was nearly
killing her to do so, and you think about Ron and his FUCKING OPINIONS!' Jenny slammed her hand
on the table with her last words, spittle flying out of her mouth ; her expression going
tremondously angry again.

'No taking the name of our founder, our God, no allusions to any religion in any topic, and
no utterances that will bring His Holy Wrath on thee,' Steve said, grinning broadly.
'Appendix B, Subunit 21, Paragraph a,' he added, tilting his head to the side.

Jenny glowered at Steve for a moment, before turning back to Harry.

'I apologise for my uncalled-for display of anger, but you know as well as I do that what I
said was nothing but the truth,' Jenny said formally.

'Th-That's ok,' Harry said absently, running his palms slowly over his cheeks,
silently contemplating Jenny's previous words.

'Anyway, let's move on,' Jenny said composedly, not even a trace of her previous
anger visible. 'When Lord Voldemort struck you down in the forest, the wand he used for the
purpose recognised two souls in the target it was about to strike. One was your soul, as
unblemished as it was the day you were born, for the most part anyway, and the other soul
was-'

'Hang on,' Harry butted in, 'What do you mean, 'for the most part'?' he
asked.

'Well, um, when you lose your v-virtuousness, the soul doesn't become tainted, but it..
it does lose that slight shadow of ultimate purity it always had,' she said as quickly as
possible, while Steve had already starting cracking up in the background.

Harry turned beetroot red and hoped Jenny wasn't expecting an answer from him. Luckily, she
wasn't.

'So, the other soul was that fraction of Lord Voldemort's, highly blackened and tainted.
The wand recognised you as its rightful master and was reluctant on hitting you, but luckily for
you, it recognised that bit of Voldemort's. Knowing that you were his mortal enemy, and the
fact that you had its allegiance, it killed the fraction of the soul in you and left you wounded,
rather than dead. It didn't like being used against you, it acted of its own accord, and the
unforeseen result of that was its echo hitting Voldemort as well, rendering him unconscious for the
exact same period of time that you were,' Jenny explained.

'So, if it did not like the idea of killing me, why did it do so in the Great Hall?'
Harry asked, just barely understanding Jenny's complicated explanation.

'Unfortunately for you, that was different. You must remember, Harry, the wand does choose
the wizard as you may no doubt have heard. But the thing is, the wizard chooses what the wand has
to do. Muggles have no idea of the existence of magic, they see it as an inexplicable mystic force
that only the Supreme Beings are capable of performing. But we know different. We know for a fact
that magic is just another form of energy. You can't create energy nor can you destroy it.
Magic comes internally from us, but we can't create it elsewhere, nor can we destroy it, once
created. Of course, we can destroy it with magic, but it won't be extinguished on its own.

'So, when you were hit by magic in the forest, the green energy *had* to destroy or
terminate something, *anything.* Combining this with the fact that you had a piece of
Voldemort's soul lodged in you, it killed that part completely, hence satisfying the law of
conservation. But in the Great Hall, Voldemort's Killing Curse had to kill something, so it
did, and that's why you landed up here,' Jenny finished sombrely.

'But, if I was truly the Master of the Elder Wand, shouldn't it have hit me and
Voldemort as well?' Harry asked.

'Astute, Harry,' Jenny replied, a slight smile slowly making its way onto her face,
'You're absolutely right. As a matter of fact, it *did* rebound on Voldemort, but
didn't kill him.'

'So he's unconscious?' Harry asked disbelievingly.

'Yes, and this time it's different. In that timeframe, in that Great Hall, you are
officially dead. But yet there is something hanging over everyone's head that has in important
role to play in this equation. Do you know what that is?' Jenny asked.

*'Hanging over someone's head, where have I heard that phrase before?'* Harry
thought to himself. *'Hanging over my head, big burden...the-'*

'Prophecy!' he almost shouted out the last word, and then immediately groaned. *The
bloody prophecy again.*

'Don't be so upset over that, Harry. This thing just might be able to save everything,
might be able to save the world as you know it. Do you remember what exactly the Prophecy
states?'

'Yes, I do. It's been forefront in my mind for two painful years. It says that one of us
had to die at the hands of the other, for neither could live while the other survived,' Harry
said, wondering where this was going.

'Yes, that's the essence of it. Voldemort is now in that Great Hall, unconscious. The
prophecy chose the final meeting you just had with him as the end, the destiny of the both of you.
It chose that moment as the moment where it had to be satisfied ; not the time when you met him as
a baby, not the time you met him in the graveyard, not any of the other numerous encounters you had
with him during your school years, but *that* moment. So, the echo of his Killing Curse struck
him as well, leaving him frozen. But you haven't woken like you did in the forest, which means
that even he can't come out of his current state,' Jenny said.

'Not that I'm complaining or anything, but why didn't it just kill me like it was
supposed to? Why do I still have a second chance, in spite of being hit?' Harry asked.

'Fate. Yes, you probably should've figured out by now who controls the answers to the
many questions of life, the topic of destiny and other consequential matters? It's Fate, Harry.
He is the one who decides and controls your destiny, everyone else's destiny. He does it in a
most peculiar, yet fulfilling way. I presume that you, being a master of all three of them, know
the Tale of the Deathly Hallows?'

'Yes, I do,' Harry replied quickly, his interest in the topic waxing with every
moment.

'Death interacted with the creators of the Deathly Hallows, but their destiny, their future
was controlled by Fate. Fate allowed the third brother, your own ancestor, to live. Fate controlled
the future of the Hallows even after the brothers died. The most controversial of them, as you
know, was the Wand of Destiny. Like everything else on earth, he controlled its successive
possessors. He made sure that it passed on into various unsuspecting, some innocent, some greedy
hands. He ensured that it reached Gellert Grindelwald, then Albus Dumbledore, then young Mr.
Malfoy, and finally you. You may think it coincidental, but you are the only person in history
after the third brother to unite and wield all three Hallows at the same time. Fate chose it this
way, he meant for it to happen this way and when he foretold the prophecy via your schoolteacher,
he already knew the outcome. He decided that you would be the one, the Chosen One, not Neville
Longbottom, he decided that after long toil, after lots of pain, you would be the winner. He made
sure all three of the Hallows came to you so that Voldemort could be overthrown from his position
of power. I cannot tell for sure though, whether he foresaw this complication, or whether he
thought that you would kill Voldemort outright in the Great Hall,' Jenny said.

'Ookaay,' Harry said, stunned into silence, still eagerly waiting to hear how everything
would be resolved.

'So, the fact that it was a Deathly Hallow that contributed to Voldemort's coma and your
apparent demise, gives you another chance. A chance to make things right. Fate always controlled
the Hallows, and now that is coming into play. His decision is overriding Voldemort's actions.
If Voldemort had used anything else as a means of your destruction, say impaling you with the sword
of Gryffindor, you would be dead, and catastrophically, Fate wouldn't be able to do anything
further,' Jenny said.

'So I'm getting a chance, a fair chance to get everything straight,' Harry asked,
needing another confirmation.

'Yes,' Jenny replied.

'So how does that work?' Harry asked, euphoria rising within him abruptly, unable to
believe he had somehow lucked out again.

'You see, the prophecy chose that specific moment for its completion. Until then, both of
you could be living and breathing at the same time. But, now if you go back to that timeline,
Voldemort will become conscious again, which means that both of you are alive. That cannot happen
under any circumstances,' Jenny said.

'So what happens?' Harry asked.

'You heard me clear. You will be unable to go back to that *timeline,'* Jenny
hinted.

'So..um... you're sending me to a different world, no wait, scratch that, a different
time, to..to...'

'That's right Harry, you'll be going back into a particular time in your life, from
where hopefully you'll be able to complete the terms of the Prophecy.'

'Okay, that's great... so where-'

'But there are some things I have to tell you before that happens, Harry,' Jenny
said.

'Okay, what are they?' Harry asked urgently, fervently wanting to bring an end to the
conversation now that he had gotten all his questions cleared and that he knew what he was going to
be doing.

'First of all, this time travelling you're going to be doing leaves the old, original
frame active, yet untouched. So, think of it as a picture that a Muggle camera can take. It's
inanimate, it doesn't move. The scene where Voldemort and you curse each other with all the
defendants of the school and the Dark Army watching intently, that scene will now be photographed
and preserved. It will not proceed just yet. However, in the new timeline, if you again die before
Voldemort does, that path, all the sequence of events that lead to that will be obliterated, and
this photograph will activate immediately. Voldemort strikes you down in the Great Hall and he
lives, claiming all the three Hallows as his own. He lives and you die. You know what that means,
right?' Jenny asked.

Gulping nervously, Harry nodded in affirmation.

'So this is your last chance, the world's last chance. Even Fate can't help you if
you fall in the new timeline before Voldemort does.'

'What happens if I kill Voldemort in the new timeframe?' Harry asked.

'The converse,' was all Jenny said.

'So, that means...that means I live my life from there and all the horrors of the present
timeline are wiped off the map?' Harry asked.

Jenny nodded.

'There is another thing. This turn of events may lead to another potential disaster. In the
new timeline, at least till Voldemort's resurrection, which I'll advise you to leave
unmodified till you've destroyed all the pieces, if there is any living being that continues to
live even though he or she has died in the previous timeline, the consequences for you will be
severe. You will survive for a maximum of two or three days from that point, after which you will
succumb. And trust me, that will be a painful death. Oh yeah, if any one dies when he or she lived
in the previous timeline, then the same thing will happen to you and the old photograph will
activate immediately after your death. Am I clear?' Jenny asked sternly.

'Yes, all clear,' Harry replied.

'This is simply because the forking of the roads that we are creating, is a response to the
question of your fate and Voldemort's as well. It's between you and him. No one else's
mortality should be affected.'

'I understand,' Harry replied, getting up, knowing it was time.

'One last thing,' Jenny said, 'It's not exactly to do with this mission,
but-'

'But what?' Harry asked.

'You always were a good friend to Hermione. But this time, please be her best friend first,
please have her as your first priority, not anyone else?' she asked pleadingly.

'I...I don-' Harry started, but was cut off by Jenny.

'Just tell me something, okay? Just answer my question first,' Jenny said, and Harry
wordlessly indicated for her to proceed.

'You remember when you were at your parent's graves?' Jenny asked.

Harry nodded again, unable to understand what Jenny was getting at.

'Voldemort had already taken over the Ministry, the entire country. You were in hiding, you
were hurting over your parent's graves, you were hurting over betrayal, fear of defeat, you
were miserable. You didn't have anything to hang onto, no one to restore your confidence in the
Horcrux mission, to hold you and tell you that things would get better, no parents, no Weasleys, no
Sirius, not even Dumbledore, no one in the world, except-'

'*Hermione*,' Harry groaned softly.

'Yes, Harry. Hermione. *Hermione.* No one else. For you, it was only Hermione at that
time, as always. When will you understand, that's all you need in life, that Hermione is the
one and only person that can complete you?' Jenny asked softly, looking despairingly at Harry,
but she plowed on in spite of herself.

'When will you realise that she's all that you'll ever need, that she's all that
you could ever *possibly* need in your life?' Jenny whispered, and even the normal, upbeat
Steve looked pained. Harry couldn't breath, he felt as though someone had reached into him and
grasped his heart, twisting it even tighter with every word that came out of Jenny's mouth. He
brushed away an errant tear that he had fought furiously from rolling down and he agonisingly asked
himself the same thing. *Why had he not realised? He was friends with them, but he didn't
absolutely need people like Ron, Ginny or anyone else , Hermione was someone he could absolutely
not live without! She was his constant, his friend, his lover, his-*

'Everything,' Jenny finished softly. 'Your everything. I'm glad you understood
at last. There's nothing else to do here,' she whispered, getting up from her seat, wiping
her eyes dry.

She walked towards Harry and held his hand. 'Come,' she stated and Harry said bye to
Steve, who gave him a two-finger salute in return.

Feeling slightly better, Harry walked away, Jenny in tow.

Again, they walked through what a veil of silver mist, before Jenny stopped.

'Good luck, Harry. Be safe,' Jenny breathed, looking at Harry emotionally.

'I don't know what's going to happen now, I don't know what kind of events will
unfold, but I promise you here, I swear on my blood that I will show Hermione what exactly she
means to me. I will show her how much I value her, how much I love her. Things will change ; I
swear it,' Harry snarled, his jaw set and his teeth clenched, a steely glint of determination
in his eyes as he looked unflinchingly at Jenny, daring her to even think of contradicting him.

Jenny smiled at him for a second, hopeful, and then steered Harry towards what appeared to be
the centre of the mysterious room.

'So where in time am I landing up?' Harry asked, his voice dulcet again.

'You'll find out in a minute,' Jenny said. 'All I can tell you is that
you'll go back to the time when the first significant step had just been taken. A time when
something big had just happened. You'll understand when you get there,' Jenny said, waving
at him.

Harry's mind was now working overtime. *When something big had just happened? What did
that mean? Did that mean he was going back to Halloween night at Godric's Hollow, just after
his parents got murdered?*

He opened his mouth to communicate to Jenny, he signaled to her, he tried anything that would
attract her attention, but he felt himself suffocating, he felt himself falling for some reason,
and then there was only darkness.







AN - Aureus Flammare = Golden Flames in Latin

Big treat for anyone who can decipher Jenny's hint, and guess where Harry lands up. I also
look forward to any feedback from you guys about my explanation for Harry's death, and whether
you guys were able to spot any loopholes in the same area/

So, I hope all of you have a merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year!!!

Cheers!





3. Where Harry Landed Up
------------------------







Chapter 3 - Where Harry Landed Up







For a minute, it seemed Harry couldn't open his eyes no matter how hard he tried. All he
could hear was the steady trickle of water from somewhere. He lay like that till he heard a soft,
feminine moan.

He tried opening his eyes again, and this time they opened. His vision was blurry because his
glasses were cracked, so he took his wand out and muttered a spell that Hermione had used so many
times on him.

His vision instantly clearing, he found that he was lying down on a wet, dirty cement surface.
He got up unsteadily and looked around. His heart beating thunderously, he saw the tall, noble
countenance of Salazar Slytherin looking on sternly, with the body of a huge snake lying down at
what would have been his feet.

Then it struck him : He was at the Chamber of Secrets, he had just fought the basilisk tooth and
nail, and now he was lying injured. Or was he? Pulling up his sleeve where he remembered the snake
had bit him last time, he saw nothing. That meant he had also been healed. He heard another soft,
female cry.

He looked down, and for the first time he noticed the hunched form of Ginny Weasley on the floor
of the Chamber. For some reason she was crying.

Remembering that last time Ginny was terrified that she was going to be expelled, Harry said
nothing ; but instead picked her up slowly, gently telling her that she couldn't be blamed for
what had happened.

But to his surprise, Ginny shook her head firmly, and clung to him tighter.

'What's wrong then Ginny?' he asked, frowning.

'It's-It's- Oh, Harry, it's just that you're so brave! I can't believe
you would go through all of that for me! You were awake after you killed the basilisk and then
that, that ph-phoenix creature healed you, but instead of getting better, you fell! I thought it
had poisoned you or something! I was so worried that-'

Harry snorted. Fawkes, poisoning him? How dumb was that? He opened his mouth to say just that,
but then stopped himself in the nick of time. He made up his mind that he would treat the
Weasleys' the same way he always did, he would only be significantly different with Hermione.
Besides, Ginny was unconscious when Fawkes blinded the basilisk and gave him the hat to pull out
the sword.

'I'm all right, Ginny, he's gone,' Harry replied, and as he said it, he
understood what Jenny meant by ''returning to a moment when the first significant step had
just been taken''. The first Horcrux, the first obstacle in the long, winding and
ultimately unsuccessful journey he had trodden upon, had just been destroyed. But just to play it
safe, he decided to confirm it.

'Ginny, what were the things you heard and felt before you woke up?' Harry asked
cautiously.

'Um..I felt kind-kind of released and I heard screams in the back of my head. And then when
the last scream stopped, I woke up,' Ginny said quietly.

Harry heaved a huge sigh of relief when he heard Ginny's words. The Horcrux had been
destroyed, and now there was one more waiting at Hogwarts, ready-to-destroy.

'You're not developing a fever are you Harry, I don't know anything about big
sixty-foot snakes, but I'm sure they're poisonous,' Ginny said, bringing her hand to
Harry's forehead, feeling it, while not taking her eyes off Harry's.

'No---you're fine, my hero,' she said softly, her fingers trailing down Harry's
dirt-stained face, finally cupping his chin.

Harry quickly moved away trying to make light of the situation. He would not allow any woman to
touch him like that, not Ginny, not Cho. Only Hermione, if she was willing to, would be allowed to
do as she pleased with him. He felt himself stirring at the way those last words sounded in his
mind. He frowned thoughtfully. He had a seventeen-year old mind in his twelve-year old body, and
apparently he had the seventeen-year old hormones too.

'Harry...?' Ginny said, shaking him from his thoughts.

'I'm sorry Ginny. I have to tell you now, I don't want to hurt you, but nothing can
happen between us. I just think of you as Ron's sister, and by extension, my little
sister,' Harry said, quickly wanting to destroy this disastrous mistake he had made in his last
lifetime.

'Harry, I didn't mean it that way, I was really just thankful,' Ginny lied, fighting
to prevent the tears that were pooling in her eyes.

'Okay then, as long as we're on the same page then,' Harry said, relieved. Anyway,
the last time, Ginny just had a crush on him at this stage. She had never acted on it.

'Where is Fawkes anyway?' Harry asked, looking around the chamber. He walked towards the
basilisk and took a look at its fangs.

'I don't know, I thought it would be able to get us out of this place,' Ginny said,
staring after him wistfully.

Harry didn't say anything in response, his mind was working furiously. The corpse was too
fresh and wet and bloody, he really didn't fancy plucking off any of its teeth right now. Even
though it was useful for destroying something as important as Voldemort's soul fragments, he
really didn't favour being a basilisk's dentist, with or without wand. He would have to
wait for it to dry. Which meant he would have to come back later.

Which also brought him to another predicament. Would he able to come back? Did he know
Parselmouth? The answer to that depended on whether he was still a Horcrux or not. He had his old
personality and mind, but not body. Which meant he was only physically changed. That should mean
that the Horcrux in him was destroyed. All the same he had to be sure.

'Serpensortia!' he said, pointing his wand, and then he immediately regretted it. No
altering the status of life and death for any living thing, Harry thought. Which meant that he had
to vanish this snake quickly.

He tried talking to it. He hissed in every way he could, till the snake simply ignored him and
slithered away.

He quickly aimed a small stone at it, hitting it on its tail. The snake stopped and hissed
furiously at him. It was a common garden snake, and that boded well for him. If his spell had given
rise to an anaconda, there would be no escape.

Harry pointed his wand and vanished it without further ado.

This meant he wasn't a Horcrux anymore. He remembered what Ron did last time to get into the
chamber. Grinning broadly at the idea of seeing everyone safe and sound again, he mindlessly
transfigured another stone into a broomstick and walked away, looking for Ginny.

He found her at the entrance, where she was being hugged by a relieved Ron.

'Thanks for saving her, Harry,' Ron said gratefully as they hugged.

'No problem mate,' Harry replied, as he showed them the broomstick they could escape
on.

'You found a broomstick there?' Ron asked.

'No, I just transfigured a stone I found,' Harry said, guiding them to the hole they had
come from.

Both Ron and Ginny's jaws dropped to the floor. They stared at him, Ron in envy and Ginny in
awe.

'You transfigured it?!' Ron said, after a shocked moment of silence, 'That's a
sixth or seventh year level transfiguration!'

'Ron, relax, I was just kidding. I found it in the other side of the chamber,' he
gestured, while making another mental note to himself. His magical potential now easily crossed
that of any student in Hogwarts, and he would have to cut down on everything except the normal
stuff he was taught in school.

'Oh,' they said together and Ron added, 'You scared me there mate! For a moment I
thought you were turning into Hermione.'

'Is there anything wrong with acting more like Hermione? She's the smartest person we
know,' Harry snapped out, unable to stop himself.

Ginny glared at him for a moment and then cleared her throat. Ron had a surprisingly thoughtful
expression on his face, something that was rare in itself.

'No, of course not, come on, let's get going,' Ron quickly said, wondering when
Harry had gotten so defensive of Hermione. He felt a slight pang of bitterness hit him at that
thought.

Shrugging it off, he took the broom in his hands and turned to Harry and Ginny.

'Think we can do this all in one trip guys?' Ron asked.

'Yeah, we can manage,' Harry said.

'Okay then, Ginny, you're in the middle. Harry, you're the best flier among us, so
you take the front,' Ron said.

They got on the broom and it started very violently, nearly throwing them off. Ginny immediately
found an excuse to throw her arms around Harry.

She sighed softly as her head went against his back. Only a little sister to him, was she? She
would show him...




*




They dismounted in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and quickly ran out, so as not to be disturbed
by the infuriating ghost. They ran to Dumbledore's office, causing disapproving stares from
nearly every portrait they passed.

Harry knocked twice and then went in, Ron and Ginny behind him. Dumbledore was sitting behind
his desk and for Harry, this was much more refreshing than anything he had experienced in a long
time. Hogwarts with Professor Albus Dumbledore. This was how it was supposed to be.

He took a long time appreciating the fact that Dumbledore was still hale and hearty as he looked
at the ancient, knowing face of his headmaster ; the gold rimmed half-moon spectacles and his
ever-knowing twinkling blue eyes.

Dumbledore got up and Harry noticed that he wanted to say something. He cleared his throat
softly and Mrs. Weasley finally loosened her grip on her daughter. Dumbledore offered everyone a
lemon drop. Harry smiled. Dumbledore always did this before discussing the matter at hand. Both of
Dumbledore's hands were whole and unblemished and Harry watched as Dumbledore popped the candy
into his mouth as everyone refused.

Harry listened almost disinterestedly as Ron recounted the tale of everything they had figured
out, how they went into Myrtle's bathroom, how the Memory Charm backfired on Lockhart, which
caused Harry to shout in shock.

'SIR! Lockhart! We forgot him there! Ron, can you believe it?' Harry asked.

'Glad to see you've been keeping up with the story, Harry,' Dumbledore said, his
eyes twinkling madly.

'After you went in there, I was clearing some of those rocks and he wandered off. I-I kind
of... forgot about him and then the broomstick you gave us at the end barely fit three people,
so..' Ron trailed off, guiltily.

'A broomstick?' Dumbledore said, now sitting up and looking directly at Ron. 'Where
did the broomstick come from?'

Ron went to the entrance and brought the broom he had kept there to Dumbledore. 'Sir, Harry
found one in the chamber and we flew back up on it,' Ron said, handing Dumbledore the
broom.

'Hmm, interesting things can indeed be found in the chamber, can't they Mr. Potter?'
Dumbledore muttered, surveying Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

'Yes, Professor,' Harry said firmly, and then quickly averted his eyes from his
headmaster's.

Dumbledore half grinned, half frowned for a moment before proclaiming that there would be no
punishment for Ginny, as she had been hoodwinked by a very powerful wizard.

'And now Molly, Arthur, if you would kindly escort your daughter to wherever she pleases?
I'm sure that no one will say anything if you want to spend the rest of the day with
her.'

'Of course, Albus, thank you,' Molly said, and then hugged Harry as hard as she could.
'And thank you, Harry! You saved my baby! Thank you so much,' she said, now on the verge of
tears.

'Thank you again, Harry,' Ginny said, in what she hoped would be a cute, innocent voice,
before hugging him briefly.

Harry stiffened and quickly broke the hug. 'You're welcome, Ginny,' was all he said,
before turning to the Weasley patriarch. Arthur patted him on the back and thanked him quietly. The
three of them turned to leave.

'Oh and Harry? We'll let you know about staying at our house this summer, okay?'
Mrs. Weasley said, while Ginny beamed.

'All tight, thanks Mrs. Weasley,' Harry said, and they left.

Which left him, Ron and Dumbledore.

'Mr. Weasley, if you would take these papers to the Owlery. Any owl will take it. I believe
we need our gamekeeper back,' Dumbledore said, handing over a sheaf of papers tied together
with a ribbon that seemed to have the official Ministry logo incised all over it.

Ron looked at Harry for a moment before taking the papers and departing from the office.

'So, Harry, I seemed to remember that I said I would expel you or your friends if I found
any more evidence of rule breaking?' Dumbledore asked, raising his eyebrows.

'Yes Professor,' Harry muttered tonelessly ; he knew he would be getting four hundred
points instead.

'Well, I'll have to eat my words, and only this once,' Dumbledore said, a smile
slowly unfurling on his wizened face. 'I propose to give two hundred points to all three of
you. You, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. In addition to Special Awards for Services to the School to
both you and Miss Granger,' Dumbledore finished.

'Thank you sir,' Harry said. He thought he would have to fake a look of surprise and
excitement but found that he didn't need to. Dumbledore had changed his reward significantly
this time and Harry wondered why. Already there were a few changes. Lockhart had been left behind.
The phoenix had disappeared. Only three, but they had happened in a span of fifteen minutes. How
many more things would change?

Dumbledore brought him out of his musings. 'Ah, I see young Lucius has just entered the
gates to come and greet me. I want to be spared from that pleasure, so, Harry, I think it best we
leave.'

'Leave?' Harry repeated.

'Yes, I think you should go back to your common room and have some rest if you desire it. BY
all means, avoid the main corridor if you wish to avoid Mr. Malfoy. Take one of the many shortcuts
you surely know of. I shall go and bring back our poor Defense Professor.'

Harry grinned and made his way to the door along with Dumbledore.

'Sir, aren't you going with Fawkes?' Harry asked, when he saw the golden bird still
perched in his cage.

'No, Harry, I think it will be his burning day soon, and besides, I would love to test out
this enchanting broomstick that you have brought me. Fascinating that it would appear there in the
chamber of all places, isn't it Harry?' Dumbledore asked, peering intently at Harry
again.

'Hmm, pretty cool Professor,' Harry replied and quickly made his way away from
Dumbledore to avoid any other fascination expressed by the latter over the broomstick.

'Good evening, Professor,' Harry said, and left, completely intent on taking the main
corridor that led to the front doors of Hogwarts. He took out one of his socks and stuffed it in
between the diary of Tom Riddle. As expected, he walked into the arrogant, sneering form of Lucius
Malfoy, a cowering and truly terrified Dobby walking behind him.

'Mr. Malfoy,' Harry said crisply, inclining his head in a mock show of respect.

'Mr. Potter,' he sneered, looking down at him with adeptly disguised loathing.

'This is the vermin that serves me. Its name is Dobby,' he said, kicking Dobby hard on
his back and Dobby rolled a few times, before stopping and gasping painfully.

'Get back here to your master, Dobby!' Lucius hissed. 'At once!'

Crying softly, Dobby limped over to him.

'You did not come at once as I commanded. Punish yourself!' Lucius spat, his eyes filled
with a cold contempt as he watched Dobby willingly oblige.

Dobby started banging his head on the floor repeatedly, before Lucius placed one foot on his
head and looked at Harry.

'This is how they are meant to be, Mr. Potter. Their only purpose in their pitiable excuse
for a life is to serve us,' he finished aristocratically.

'Lovely,' Harry said, sarcasm oozing from his tone. 'I would hate to pretend to you
that I am enjoying this conversation, or disgusting display of undeserved power as I prefer to call
it, but I came here for a reason. I didn't come here to exchange pleasantries with a member of
Voldemort's inner circle, I just came here to give you this,' he said coolly, thrusting the
diary into his hand.

'What the-?' Lucius snarled, both at Harry's accusation and his action. 'A
diary?' he asked, holding it up, before tossing it to Dobby.

'That was your return gift for being a faithful dog to Voldemort all along, wasn't
it?' Harry asked, still maintaining his pleasant charade in spite of himself.

'How dare you, Potter?' Lucius snarled furiously, before turning to Dobby.

'Dobby,' he commanded, 'Show the young man what can happen to him when I am
angered!'

He turned to Harry again. 'People have gone out of their way to anger me before. But after
they do so the first time, they go out of their way to please me. You're just another one of
the many fools I'll be stepping on, Potter,' he hissed, menace never leaving his eyes.

'You've been watching too many dramatic movies, Mr. Malfoy,' Harry said, still
smiling, knowing that would anger the older Malfoy even further. 'Too many action movies with a
lot of trashy dialogue. You must not be getting any action from your wife if you do that in your
free time, do you?' Harry said.

Lucius roared this time and took out his wand. 'Dobby!' he shouted, now aiming another
kick at Dobby's head. It connected and Dobby fell to the floor, bleeding. Lucius stood on him
and hissed, 'I thought I told you to take care of him? Are you going to continue to let him
insult your Master or are you going to do something about it?'

'Why don't you pick on someone your own size and *you* do something about it,
fuckweed?' Harry said, anger now creeping into his tone. 'Dobby, open the book,' Harry
said loudly.

Dobby, who was struggling to breathe under his Master's full weight, opened the book with a
quivering hand and gasped at what he saw.

'Now Lucius, be a good Death Eater and get the fuck off of my friend,' Harry snapped,
wondering if it was a good idea to provoke Lucius in the first place as his anger was reaching
dangerously uncontrollable levels.

Lucius didn't have time to do so as he was expelled violently across the length of the
corridor with one flick of Dobby's wrist.

Snarling, he took one hard look at Dobby, before walking to Harry. Dobby instantly placed
himself in between them, but Lucius spat on him.

'I'm not harming his worthless hide, you fool,' Lucius hissed, before looking Harry
dead in the eye.

'Your filthy parents were meddlesome fools too. And what happened to them? They were begging
for mercy when he killed them. You'll meet the same sticky end as them one of these days,
Potter. I assure you of it,' he whispered dangerously.

'You've scared me, Mr. Malfoy, sir,' Harry stammered, sarcasm again dripping from
his tone, 'What am I supposed to do to avoid a sticky death? Should I fall at your feet and vow
to lick Voldemort's snakey arse as faithfully as you have?' he said, sticking his tongue
out and hissing.

Lucius said nothing but pushed him roughly out of the way and walked down the corridor
briskly.

'Dumbledore's waiting in his office for your visit!' Harry hollered out. 'The
password is Purebloods are gay!'

'I hope you're happy, Dobby,' Harry said gently, kneeling down so that he was at
level with Dobby.

'Thank you so much, Harry Potter sir, I always knew of your greatness, your power, your
bravery, your kindness, but now I's seen them all, sir! Thank you!' he cried before hugging
Harry very tightly.

'Dobby, I consider you a friend and that's why I did that for you. It's because
you're a good person, no matter what people like Malfoy think,' Harry said seriously.

Dobby burst out into even more tears at this, and Harry heard none of his mutterings except a
few words like 'Harry Potter sir', 'noble', 'so kind' strung in
between.

'Dobby,' Harry said seriously, 'Would you like to work for me?'

Dobby pulled away from him and looked at him with wide eyes for a moment, as if unable to
believe it.

'Master is willing to hire Dobby?' Dobby asked softly.

'Yes, I am, Dobby. But I have a few conditions that you must follow at all times during your
tenure.'

'Name them, Harry Potter sir!' Dobby squealed in joy, 'I shall serve my new, great
master to the fullest. I shall not fail to please my new mast-'

'Wait Dobby,' Harry said, holding a finger up to silence him. 'I am quite sure you
will carry out your duties admirably. I have no doubt about that. My conditions are different. The
first one is, you will accept wages and sick leaves and all other benefits a normal person does.
The second is, you'll call me Harry and not Master or sir. The third : You are never, ever to
punish yourself even if you have made a mistake somewhere. Is that clear?'

'Yes! Master Harry Potter sir, thank you for hiring Dobby! Master will not regret it, I
promise. I-'

'Dobby, the second condition?' Harry reminded.

'Oh, I am sorry, I shouldn't have-' he proceeded to bang his head on the ground a
good five times on the ground, but Harry stopped him in time.

'Dobby, the third condition?' Harry asked, humour in his tone.

Dobby grinned shamefully and then hugged Harry again. Harry was brought to tears, not by
Dobby's show of gratitude, but by what Dobby had done in another lifetime. He remembered as the
little elf cast away all fear and entered his former master's home to save them all. He
remembered as the knife went straight through Dobby, effectively impaling him.

'How much wages is I to be getting mast-Harry?' Dobby asked.

'Hermione Granger will decide that,' Harry said, thinking fondly of his beautiful, now
thirteen-year old lover. 'Dobby, are the Mandrakes ready?'

'I is not sure, Harry. But I is wanting to meet some of my elf friends in the kitchens. Can
I take Master's permission to visit them and then find out about the Mandrakey's? Dobby
asked, bowing low.

'No problem, Dobby,' Harry said almost absentmindedly, thinking that he would visit the
Hospital Wing to see Hermione for the first time.

'Thank you, Master,' Dobby said respectfully, and vanished. Harry shook his head in
amusement. Getting Dobby to stop calling him Master would be really difficult.

He decided to proceed to the Hospital Wing immediately. He felt his nerves tighten as he walked
along the sparsely-occupied corridors of Hogwarts. He was going to see Hermione and he had no idea
what he was going to do or say. However, he was stopped on his way by a familiar voice.

'Where are you going, Harry?'







AN - Hope you liked this one and please review to tell me what you think..




The next chapter is 'Plans for the Summer'. Harry goes to Hermione and reacts to her
awakening. Two young Weasley's aren't too happy about it.....









4. First Day of a New Life
--------------------------







Chapter 4 - First Day of a New Life







Harry turned around. It was Ron and Ginny. He sighed. Hoping this wasn't the start of
anything remotely fractious, he walked closer to them.

'I was making my way to the Hospital Wing,' he said, looking only at Ron.

'Why, Harry? Were you hurt? Is there some injury you haven't been telling us about? Is
it-' Ginny fired off rapidly, but Harry cut in.

'It's Hermione,' he said baldly, finally looking at Ginny and the reactions of the
two young Weasleys was immediate.

Ron's face went red, almost as red as his hair, and Ginny's face took a barely
detectable convoluted expression ; something that shouldn't have been present on any
twelve-year old girl's face.

'Why are you going though?' Ginny asked plainly.

'Why? What do you mean why?' Harry started furiously, 'Why not? She's my best
friend, and now that all danger is gone I'm sure they'd be administering the Mandrake
solution freely! She's gonna wake up soon.'

'Nah, Ginny didn't mean it like that, Harry. We assumed you'll visit her after
she's awake and in a state to interact, that's all,' Ron assured, although Harry swore
he spotted a flash of resentment in Ron's eyes.

'Okay then, right, I'll get going,' Harry said, clapping Ron on the shoulder.

'We'll come with you, you're right, even I want to see Hermione,' Ron said,
trotting along.

'You don't have to if you don't want to, Ginny,' Harry said, not wanting Ginny
to tag along.

'Oh, that's alright, I want to come, Hermione's my friend too,' she said.

*'Oh yeah, tell me her middle name.'*

They walked to the Hospital wing, encountering only Peeves on the way, who strangely enough, had
two watermelons in his hands.

Being thankfully ignored by him, they entered the Hospital wing where they saw all the patients
who had been petrified lying in a row of beds. On looking around, they found Madame Pomfrey in her
office, stirring something rapidly in a tall, round-bottomed pewter cauldron.

'Visit whoever you want, don't bother me, and don't you dare slap any of them!'
she said agitatedly, not even looking up at them.

Harry and Ron exchanged a bewildered look, before Harry voiced out their question.

'Why would we be slapping any of them, Professor?'

'Don't you ask me that, you're Gryffindors, I'm sure you wouldn't do
anything. But the thing is, some Slytherins have been by recently to 'visit their petrified
friends'.'

'What?!' Harry roared, unable to believe their nerve.

'Yes, they've become pretty brave since Dumbledore left, and their number has increased
by leaps and bounds since they said your sister was taken,' Pomfrey indicated to Ron, before
continuing her vigorous stirring. She quickly pushed Ginny aside and took a bucket of what appeared
to be some dead animal's remains and dumped its entire contents into the cauldron, and then
continued stirring the mixture.

'I'm glad to see you're safe by the way, Miss Weasley, I'm just operating on a
tight schedule. The Mandrakes have developed much faster than I expected them to, and now that they
have, I can give the poor souls their path to recovery,' she said, smelling the cauldron as she
talked.

'Did they attack any of them?' Harry hissed, his fists clenching.

'What? Oh yes, nothing major, but a few stunning curses and Boxing Charms... they've
been soundly punished by Professor McGonagall, I assure you,' she said.

'WHAT?! Did they touch Hermione?!' Harry snarled, his eyes darkening. If he found out
that they laid one hand on her precious body, even one single finger...

'No, Mr. Potter, I assure you they didn't. People honestly thought you were the Heir of
Salazar, some of them were quite sure you were taming the beast, they hesitated in the whole region
around Miss Granger's bed and that of Mr. Creevey's,' she said.

'When can they be cured and are you sure they didn't harm Hermione?' Harry fired
off, either not noticing or not caring that the elderly matron was too tired and too busy to answer
any more of his questions.

'Yes, *I'm sure*, Mr. Potter and I should be done by the end of the day, if the
three of you stop pestering me, that is,' she stated, and she walked into the storeroom.

Harry gave a shout of apology and gratitude and he rushed back into the patients' wing.

Running to Hermione's bed, he held her cold, limp hand and inspected her face for any wounds
or injuries. Ron and Ginny looked on, identical frowns on their faces.

'She's fine Harry,' Ginny said exhaustedly, looking sourly at what was going on, as
if wanting to wrench Harry's hand away from Hermione's, 'Madame Pomfrey was sure no one
harmed her!'

'I'm just making sure. If any of those crooks even touched her...' Harry trailed
off, his eyes trailing down the length of her arms.

Finally, being partly satisfied with Hermione's physical condition and mainly uncomfortable
under Ron and Ginny's baleful presence, Harry stepped back and took a crumpled parchment out of
his pocket. Slightly opening the fingers of her clenched hand, he stuffed the paper and closed her
fingers to the best he could.

'What's that?' Ginny asked suspiciously, raising her eyebrows.

'It's what saved your life,' Harry shot out, looking down at Hermione. She was as
beautiful as she was before, as innocent, as pretty...

'I think we should leave,' Ron said, 'Madame Pomfrey said she was busy.'

'Yeah, we should,' Ginny quickly added, not liking the way Harry was looking at
Hermione.

'You guys go, I'm gonna stay here for some time,' Harry said, taking a seat at
Hermione's bedside.

'But, Harry, Madame Pomfrey-'

'She just told us not to disturb her, she didn't say anything about visiting hours,'
Harry interrupted.

'Yeah-Yeah I guess,' Ron said uncertainly.

Ginny scowled in lieu of a response, and the siblings exited the room.

Harry sighed again and got up. This time, he sat down on her bed, in the space she wasn't
occupying.

He held one of her hands with both of his. Rubbing it softly, he looked at Hermione. Why had he
never noticed how beautiful she was before? Why hadn't he viewed her as a girl who could be,
no- would be his life partner? Was he that daft? He had ignored something so priceless, so unique,
so valuable...

No matter, he thought to himself reassuringly. He had his second chance. Thanking Jenny in his
mind and remembering what he had sworn, he bent forward and brushed his lips softly against
Hermione's.

Slowly withdrawing, he looked into her lovely chocolate orbs and muttered, 'I keep my
promises, Hermione. After you wake up, I'll be the best friend you can ever ask for. My
priorities are different this time. I've been blessed, I've been given a second chance to
make things right. Not many people get such second chances.'

He tucked a tendril softly behind her hair and entwined his fingers with hers. He didn't
know how long he sat there, watching her beautiful, petrified form, but he remembered planting
another soft kiss on her forehead before he silently left.

He walked through the portrait hole to meet an empty common room. Looking at his watch, he saw
it was past midnight. Ron and Ginny hadn't stayed up, waiting for him. He was partly glad for
that, they hadn't seemed too pleased with his going to the Hospital wing in the first
place.

He silently entered his dormitory and made his way to his bed. He lay there deep in thought. He
remembered how he had failed to procure the Sword under the eyes of a slightly suspicious
Dumbledore.

*Harry and Dumbledore made their way out of the latter's office. For a brief moment, Harry
thought he could get away with the Sword, but that was ludicrous.*

*'You can leave the Sword on the table, Harry. I'll put it along with the Sorting Hat
later,' Dumbledore said lightly.*

*'Oh, forgot, sure, Professor,' Harry said with a sinking heart. That ruled out the
idea of him destroying Horcruxes with the Sword, in addition to the fangs.*

*He placed it respectfully on the middle of Dumbledore's table, his eyes briefly spotting
an array of peculiar instruments that he had once destroyed.*

*'Professor, I would like to keep the diary for some time,' Harry said, turning back
to the Headmaster.*

*'By all means, do so, Harry. There is no evil left in it. However, may I presume that you
are keeping it to return it gracefully to Mr. Malfoy?' he asked, his eyes twinkling
again.*

*'You presumed correctly, Professor,' Harry returned with a grin.*

*Dumbledore only chuckled.*

He thought of everything that had happened since his 'reawakening'. He slowly fell into
a peaceful slumber, his first evening of his second life drawing to an end.

The first night of his new life gave him some uneasy dreams. Dreams of stealing Gryffindor's
sword from Dumbledore's office, not unlike what Ginny Weasley had once done in a different
timeline. Dreams of an impending rift between him and the Weasleys. Dreams of an attractive
brown-eyed brunette. Dreams of him dying in unforeseen, odd ways and then Rita Skeeter coming up
and declaring that this picture was to be discarded.....

He woke up very late the next day. Quickly having a shower and putting on some fresh clothes, he
went down to breakfast. Ron was sitting alone at one end of the table, reading a Quidditch
magazine. Thankfully, Ginny was nowhere in sight.

He wordlessly sat down and took a muffin.

Ron looked at him for a moment and then asked, 'What time did you get in last
night?'

'Around elevenish,' Harry said, pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

'I stayed up for you till then. Me and Ginny were both awake till around a quarter past
eleven,' he said.

'Must have just missed you,' Harry shrugged, hoping that his lack of interest in the
topic was evident.

Ron said nothing, he just took five more eggs and continued reading his magazine.

'Did Dumbledore say anything about the petrified victims?' Harry asked.

'What? Oh yeah. He did. He said something along the lines of them being revived today
evening.'

'Right.'

Not knowing what else to say, Harry fiddled with his bacon, before wolfing it down with a
buttered slice of toast. Finishing his pumpkin juice, he got up.

'Why are you leaving?' Ron asked, looking up from his magazine.

'Because...I finished my breakfast?'

'Just hang on for two minutes. You up for a game of pickup Quidditch? We're leaving
tomorrow afternoon, and we'll be busy packing tomorrow morning, so the guys decided to have one
now.'

'Um..Ron, I'm feeling pretty tired. I thought I'll sleep for some more time and then
start packing, I don't want to keep it till the last minute,' Harry lied. He actually
wanted to be left in peace in the dorms so that he could start planning his strategy for the
Horcruxes and everything else.

'Oh, come on mate. Loosen up. Only someone like Hermione wouldn't leave her packing till
the last minute... In fact if she wasn't petrified, I'm sure she would have already
finished her packing by now!' Ron chortled, obviously expecting Harry to join in on the joke.
Harry didn't.

'She never goes through tension on the final day like us, it's because she does her
packing beforehand,' Harry said firmly.

'Urr...right,' Ron said, looking thoughtfully at Harry. 'So, you're coming
right?' he added, more a statement than a question.

Harry pondered for a moment. He made up his mind that he would spend as little time as possible
with Ginny and that Hermione would come first for him, not Ron. That didn't mean he had to be
rude to Ron and consequently ignore him.

'All right, I'll play Seeker for one side,' Harry said, sitting down again.

'Great! Let me just finish my breakfast and I'll rope in Dean and Seamus,' Ron said
enthusiastically, attacking his eggs with renewed vigour.

Harry watched disgustedly as pieces of bacon fell out of Ron's mouth at regular intervals
and juice leaked down his already grimy shirt.

At long last, they made their way out of the Great Hall and went out onto the grounds, where
they met up with their classmates, who were already choosing teams on the Quidditch pitch.

As reluctant as he was to play in the first place, Harry had to admit he had fun playing with
his friends and classmates, quite a few of whom were killed in the Battle of Hogwarts in the
original timeline.

Never did his team conceding a goal, or his teammate getting hit by a Bludger cheer him up so
much.

He didn't keep track of the score or the Snitch. He spotted it easily within the first five
minutes of the game but he wanted to extend the game as long as he could. It was this scrimmage
that made him finally realise more than anything that he was in the world of the living. That he
*really* had a second chance. He wasn't dead even though by all logic, he very well should
have been...




*




A tired group of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs made their way into the Great Hall for
lunch. The mood was hopeful and optimistic. The monster being destroyed, their classmates'
pending revival, not to mention the return of their enigmatic headmaster contributed to this.

Harry really couldn't blame Ron this time for clawing his way through all the dishes laid
before them ; the game had been really exhausting.

'So what are you planning to do the rest of the day mate?' Ron asked.

'I'm going to start my packing for sure and then I don't know. I'll go to the
Hospital Wing and wait for everyone's recovery.'

'Oh, you're not allowed to do that. Professor Dumbledore expressly forbade anyone from
watching. So we can meet up with Hermione after she comes back to our common room,' Ron
said.

'What? You forgot to tell me that in the morning when I asked you!' Harry said, glaring
at Ron.

'I forgot mate, I'm sorry,' Ron said, not looking very sorry at all.

Harry simply shook his head.

Later, after shaking off a pigheaded Ron, who seemed to have it in his mind that he, Harry and
Ginny should 'take a walk' around the castle grounds, Harry lay down on his four-poster
bed, thinking.

*'I'm down, the diary is down and there's a diadem waiting for me at Hogwarts. I
can't get it and keep it in my possession, I'll have to destroy it immediately. How am I
gonna do that?*

*Taking the fang's gonna be pretty impossible. I'll probably have to wait from anytime
around six months to a year to touch that ruddy basilisk.* *I don't know how powerful I
was as a seventh year, but there's no question of nicking anything from Dumbledore's
office. Which leaves only Fiendfyre. Hermione reckoned it was too dangerous and probably even too
difficult for her to wield that kind of fire. How would he be able to use it?*

Harry finally decided that since it was only the end of his second year, he had plenty of time
to plan and execute to perfection. With the current resources at his disposal, he had no way of
getting a Horcrux or destroying one. He hated the idea of it, but he would have to leave school
without doing anything on the Horcrux and Voldemort front. He would wait till Hermione was better
and till Sirius escaped in a month's time before setting things in motion...




*




Hours later, Harry was under his Invisibility Cloak, stealthily making his way down to the
Hospital Wing. Unluckily, he didn't have the Marauder's Map, which he would have to take
from Fred and George sooner or later. He knew it would be extremely useful to have them on his
side, and yet, he couldn't figure out who to tell of his deadly secret. There were so many
people to be considered - Hermione, Ron, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus..

Shrugging off these thoughts, he stuck to the shadows and crept along, finally reaching the
corridor where the Hospital Wing was located, and he hid behind a statue of armour.

It had seemed like barely five minutes had passed when he heard voices in the vicinity.

'Is it ready, Madame Pomfrey?' he heard Dumbledore mutter to the hospital matron.

'Yes, Professor, I finished it some time this morning and I just had to run a couple of
tests to make sure everything was clear,' she replied.

'Very well, then, it is time,' he heard Professor McGonagall open the doors to the
hospital and peering out, he saw quite a few of his teachers walk in, closing the door firmly.

Quickly making his way to the doors, he peered in through the window and saw Dumbledore and
McGonagall talking to each other in hushed tones while Pomfrey had gone in to her quarters to get
the antidote solution. Professors Flitwick and Sprout were inspecting the victims.

Then, he heard footsteps behind him. Stiffening, he had no choice but to turn around as silently
as possible, as he didn't have the Map on him.

It was Severus Snape.

Harry certainly wasn't expecting it and he would absolutely deny it for years to come, but
his heart lightened when he saw the tall silhouette of the pale, greasy man approach him slowly,
his cloak billowing in the air as he walked, giving him a bat-like appearance.

His face came into view, and Harry saw his eyes, deep black eyes that he had always considered
emotionless, void ; but in actuality had harboured an everlasting, undying love.

*'Look at me....'* Harry remembered solemnly, as though the words had just been
uttered mere seconds ago.

Snape walked past him and was about to open the doors of the Hospital Wing when he stopped dead
in his tracks. He took two steps away from the doors, before looking around suspiciously.

Harry stayed exactly as he was, not even daring to breathe or move a muscle, he watched as
Snape's familiar frown caught up onto his face. Snape took his time to make one last inspection
of the corridor, before bowing his head and walking, opening the doors silently and yet
dramatically.

Harry snorted. '*Has to make an entrance,'* he thought dryly.

He resumed his position beside the window and looked inside.

Madame Pomfrey was giving a ladle full of medicine out to every student and was being assisted
by Snape.

Knowing that he had little time before the students woke up and exited the wing, Harry quickly
hid behind the armour again.

He didn't have long to wait. The students slowly filed out after being declared fit. They
walked out leisurely, muttering and chattering amongst themselves excitedly, all obviously excited
to be walking and talking again. Harry searched frantically for the one he sought the most. He
noted absently the faces of Justin, Colin and Penelope Clearwater. He saw Nearly Headless Nick
glide away from the area, patting everyone he passed warmly on the back. They came out mostly in
twos and threes.

And then, at long last, he saw her. She was alone, no one to accompany her. Harry's heart
stopped as he took in the sight of her beautiful face, her untamable brown curls, her pink cheeks
that were vibrating with life again ; her soft, pink lips that begged to be kissed once, twice,
thrice, again and again for all eternity...

He took his cloak off as he looked into her warm, chocolatey-brown eyes and something seemed to
draw her gaze to his at the same moment. They stayed like that for a second, Harry remembered being
struck down by Voldemort's killing curse, he had looked into Hermione's eyes the same way
before he had fallen.

And then, like that, the moment broke and Hermione ran into his waiting arms. Wrapping his arms
tightly around her, he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar, friendly scent. She
cried even though it was nothing more than a happy reunion between friends, he cried because the
last time he had held her this close was during that stolen hour in the tent on a cold December
evening.







AN - I forgot to put the parts about the sword and the diary in the previous chapter, so just
accept the stuff in italics as part of his conversation with Dumbledore in the previous chapter. I
didn't want to change the old one, coz I know it's pretty boring for readers to go back to
an old chapter just for a couple of paragraphs.

According to the de facto map I have sketched out, this chapter was supposed to be 'Plans
for the Summer' like I mentioned at the end of last chapter. However, as I write, I generally
tend to discard any existing plans I have. Basically, I deviate a lot and write unplanned things.
So, hopefully, the next chapter should be 'Plans for the Summer'.

Please read and review. Thanks to those who have reviewed.









5. Hermione's Plans for the Summer
----------------------------------







I am SO sorry about the delay in this chapter. Basically, I've been in a crabby mood because
of college assignments and the like, and... I don't know what else to say, really...

Anyways, on with the chapter....







Chapter 5 - Hermione's Plans for the Summer







They stayed like that in each other's embrace for two full minutes, before breaking apart
and looking at each other intensely.

Hermione's tear-stricken face broke into a watery smile and she started to speak ; her first
words in months.

'So you guys figured it out,' she said, smiling broadly.

'Nope, you did,' Harry said softly, wiping away the last of her tears softly with his
thumb. Remembering where he was, he quickly retracted his hand. This was a nearly fourteen year old
Hermione, who was still his best friend ; not a seventeen year old who was his lover.

Hermione grinned at him, 'I just found out the nature of the monster in the Chamber, you
guys did the rest.'

They made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. Harry noticed that Hermione's hand
was quite close to his side. If he could just stretch out and take her hand in his...

'So who was responsible for all this in the first place?' Hermione asked, walking
jauntily along the dark, deserted corridors.

'Tom Marvolo Riddle,' Harry said simply, turning to look at Hermione.

'Tom M-? But- Wasn't he the one who got an award for catching the culprit last
time?' Hermione asked.

'No, he opened it last time too, he framed Hagrid for it. This time he possessed someone and
made them call out the basilisk. It was him both times,' Harry replied.

'Wait a minute...' Hermione said, realisation dawning upon her, 'Marvolo...Volo.. Is
that an anagram for Lord V-Vol- er- You-Know-Who?'

'His name is Lord Voldemort, Hermione,' Harry said seriously, 'And for the record,
yes, they are one and the same.'

'Oh-but Harry, does that mean you met him down in the chamber?' Hermione asked
worriedly.

'Yeah, I did, along with the basilisk and Ginny,' Harry said.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. 'Ginny?'

'Yeah, she was using that diary of Tom Riddle's too much, and at the end, she would have
nearly died because of Voldemort's possession down in the Chamber.'

'And brave, heroic Harry Potter saved the damsel in distress and it all ends happily ever
after, right?' Hermione asked frostily, although the smile was still present on her face.

'Yeah, no, wait... what?' Harry asked confusedly, wondering why Hermione's tone had
changed so abruptly.

'N-Nothing Harry,' Hermione shook him off, and they walked through the portrait hole
together.

They stopped underneath the sets of staircases leaading up to the boys and girls' dorms and
turned towards each other.

Not knowing what to say, Harry ventured, 'Hermione... Is ev-everything alright?'

'Of course they are Harry,' Hermione snapped, 'I'm awake, everyone else's
awake, the basilisk's dead, you like G- you saved Ginny, so pretty much everything's
fine.'

'Hermione,' Harry said soothingly, knowing what Hermione had tried to cover up, 'I
don't like Ginny.'

'What?'

Harry sighed. He took her hand in his and said, 'I mean... I care for her, because she's
Ron's little sister, but that's it. I don't like her like *that.*'

'Oh,' Hermione blushed prettily, before looking away quickly. 'I just thought that
maybe you and her-'

'I actually have my eyes on another girl,' Harry said boldly, looking meaningfully into
her eyes.

'Hmm...l-lucky girl, Hermione muttered, willing herself not to sink into his gorgeous green
eyes. She cleared her throat and moved away from him.

'Well, I'll see you in the morning, Harry,' she said casually at the foot of the
staircase.

'Okay, g-goodnight,' Harry said, before smiling nervously at her and almost running up
the stairs to his dormitory.

Hermione didn't know whether to smile or cry. She walked up the stairs to her dormitory
slowly, analysing and replaying Harry's actions in her mind.

After having a quick shower and changing into a comfortable pair of pyjamas, she went to sleep,
thoughts running rampant in her head.

*'He was the one who initated* *physical contact both times. He hugged me first and
then he was the one who took my hands in his. Not to mention the way he looked at me when he said
that he had his eyes on another girl.'*

Hermione sighed softly, things were getting pretty confusing. Harry's actions could have
been purely platonic and signs of relief because he was seeing his best friend after such a long
time. After all, Harry had never noticed her before in that way. She had never heard him or Ron
expressing to her or anyone else that she, Hermione, was attractive. Hermione wondered for a moment
whether they hadn't said anything because they probably didn't consider her as sexy, or
that they *did*, but couldn't say something like that to their best friend.

She knew she wasn't arrogant or over-confident or anything, but she felt herself ruling out
the former option. She was nearing fourteen now, she seemed to be growing more and more in the
right places. Not to mention the slightly bigger bras her mum gave her as a Christmas present.

Maybe she would have to take the matter into her own hands and find out who Harry liked. If it
was her, then she was one lucky girl. Hermioe blushed and allowed her seldom seen teenage daydreams
to surface. Another memory surfaced, a memory of a conversation she had with Ginny at the beginning
of the year on the Hogwarts Express...

*'The stupid prats are going to kill themselves!' Hermione shrieked, looking out the
window.*

*'No, they won't,' Ginny said from behind her.*

*Hermione turned away from the window and looked at Ginny. 'What makes you think
that?' she asked, frowning.*

*'Harry's over there, he'll pull off something incredibly heroic,' Ginny said
with utmost conviction.*

*'Yeah, of course he will, because last I checked, he was the reincarnation of Merlin, not
a twelve year old boy,' Hermione said testily.*

*'He's a twelve-year old hero,' Ginny snapped back.*

*'All right, all right, if you want to fix the image of him as a God in your head, who am
I to stop you?' Hermione replied, raising her eyebrows.*

*'You don't know all the things he's done,' Ginny said, refusing to be cowed
down by the older girl.*

*'Oh, and I suppose you do?' Hermione asked.*

*'Yes, he killed You-Know-Who singlehandedly with the most powerful magic when he was just
a year old. He also-'*

*'Okay, everyone in the world knows that. All you have to do is go to a bookstore and open
the first book you see and presto, it's Harry Potter's biography!'*

*'You don't show Harry the respect he deserves,' Ginny shot venomously.*

*'You're right, I don't show the Boy Who Lived the respect he deserves ; I show
Harry Potter, my BEST FRIEND, the respect he deserves,' Hermione said firmly, looking at the
annoying girl right in the eyes.*

*Ginny glared at her for a moment, before looking back out the window.*

*'You have a crush on him, don't you?' Ginny suddenly asked.*

*'What?!' Hermione exclaimed.*

*'You heard me, I said you fancy him. Isn't that true?'*

*'No, it's not. However, considering the fact that you barely spoke a word around him
the whole summer, and the fact that your face seemed to be the same colour as your hair all the
bloody time, I would say YOU have a crush on him!' Hermione said.*

*'Whatever,' Ginny grumbled, her face going the exact colour Hermione had just
described.*

*They sat like that for a couple of minutes, occasionally glancing out the window to check the
Ford Anglia's progress. Then, Ginny broke the silence.*

*'All right, I fancy him a lot, and since you don't, can you tell me how to get
him?' Ginny asked, in a much more pleasant tone than before.*

*Hermione now found herself in a bit of a dilemma. She was quite sure she didn't fancy
Harry, but she wasn't sure. She always thought he was kinda cute, not to mention sweet and
caring. Could she stand another girl getting Harry for herself? No, she thought firmly, she
couldn't. She was the first girl in Harry's life and she was his best friend.*

Hermione rolled over in her bed. She had been helpful that day because she didn't want to
offend Ron's sister, but at the same time, she made sure Ginny didn't get too many
ideas.

Which gave rise to another question : Did she want Harry going to the Burrow that summer and
risk him spending a full month in the company of Ginny Weasley? No, she didn't think she did.
But she certainly didn't want Harry spending any more time than necessary with his horrible
relatives. But first of all, did she even fancy Harry Potter? That was hard to answer. She turned
over again uneasily. Whether she did or didn't, there would still be hordes of girls who did,
because along with being a Dark Lord slayer, he was now surely going to be dubbed a basilisk
slayer. Regardless of whether she did or didn't, she didn't want Harry being with a
'fan-girl', who would just fawn over him and treat him like Merlin.

Maybe she could call him over and have him spend the summer at her place? She knew her
parents' always wanted her to have a friend over, because she was a loner and barely had any
friends while growing up till she came to Hogwarts. But bringing a boy over? She knew her parents
wouldn't be too enthusiastic over the idea. Or more specifically, her father.

She sighed as she thought of the 'talk' she had with her parents before coming to
Hogwarts for her second year. She was now thirteen years old, a teenager. Her parents, or more
specifically her father, had delved into the topic too deeply for her liking. She had left them on
speaking terms, but things were still a bit dicey between her and her father. She would have to
send a letter to her parents asking them if it was alright for her to bring a friend over for the
summer holidays. She frowned. Her father wouldn't mind at all, but when he found out that the
friend was a boy, she wasn't particularly looking foward to his reaction.

She fell into an uneasy sleep, trying to word out the contents of her letter in her head.

Hermione woke up very early the next morning and scribbled down her letter trying not to
emphasise the fact that she was bringing over a boy, rather mentioning the words 'best
friend' again and again.

After giving her letter to a dark brown barn owl in the Owlery, she made her way to the
Headmaster's office, intent on talking to him about Harry's summer plans. She stopped in
front of the gargoyle statue, looking at it uncertainly for a moment, before spouting out a bunch
of historical names that she had come across in Hogwarts, A History which could serve as likely
passwords.

Eventually stomping her foot in frustration, she was interrupted by the very person she wanted
to meet, a calm, pleasant voice.

'Breaking and entering, Miss Granger?' Professor Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling
madly.

'Uh-er-no, sir, the p-password,' Hermione blushed, looking at her feet.

'Try Bertie Bott's Earwax,' Dumbledore said, coming to a still beside Hermione.

Hermione gasped, the greatest and most powerful wizard of his time, had a flavoured bean as his
password?!

Dumbledore only chuckled at Hermione's gobsmacked expression and gestured for her to enter
first.

Hermione took a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk and looked around curiously, having never
been there before.

'Sherbet Lemon, Miss Granger?' Dumbledore offered kindly, holding out a small, decorated
box, nearly filled to the brim with the aforementioned candy.

'What?' Hermione blurted, 'Umm.. No, I don't think, that's all right
Professor, I-I'm fine,' Hermione said.

Dumbledore only smiled mysteriously before popping one piece into his mouth.

'Miss Granger,' Dumbledore spoke softly, settling down into the ornate chair behind his
desk, I assure you that there were many people who pushed for the conduction of examinations, but I
must say, a great evil has departed and the staff in general are in favour of the cancellationn. Of
course, separate arrangements have been made for the fifth and seventh year students. Although may
I ask how you found out even before I've announced it to the school?'

'What?!' Hermione shrieked, temporarily forgetting the reason she had come there in the
first place.

'You didn't know?' Dumbledore said, clearly surprised.

'No,' was all Hermione said.

'Indeed,' Dumbledore replied gravely, 'So what seems to be the problem?'

'Oh, sir, it's about um - Harry's summer arrangements,' Hermione said, willing
herself with every ounce of restraint she possessed to not launch into a tirade about the benefits
of conducting exams, no matter what.

'Harry's summer arrangements?' Dumbledore repeated, his eyebrows going up.

'Yes sir, I was wondering, well, I know Harry goes to his uncle's for the summer,
but...' Hermione trailed off.

'Yes, I know what you are referring to Miss Granger, but I'm afraid to say it's
necessary for him to reside there every summer,' Dumbledore said.

'But why? I mean, they are his relatives and all, but why is it compulsory for him to do
so?' Hermione asked.

Here Dumbledore hesitated for a moment. He had never given Harry the answer before and he
didn't know how to respond to the young witch's query.

'Professor, why does he have to stay there every year?' Hermione insisted, feeling
nervous and also a little angry at the same time. She had never confronted a teacher in this manner
before.

Dumbledore sighed deeply before answering.

'Might I ask you to not repeat what I am about to say to anyone?' Dumbledore said,
peering down at her through the rim of his spectacles.

'Uh-yes, of course,' Hermione replied, then she added, 'Although if it's so
secretive, I wonder why Harry's never brought it up with me or Ron before.'

Dumbledore faltered slightly, a bare hint of guilt forming itself upon his face. Hermione
didn't miss it.

'You didn't tell him, did you?' Hermione frowned, her words coming out more as a
statement than a question.

'I can't lie to you Miss Granger, but yes, or rather no, I did not.'

'Why, what-'

'I decided to tell him the reason when he grows a bit older, along with a few other things,
perhaps when he's fifteen or sixteen,' Dumbledore interrupted calmly.

'Professor, I know it's none of my business, but it's probably only your business to
tell him important things about his life, and not to decide when to tell him. He has a right to
know,' Hermione said, wondering if she was going to get into trouble for the way she was
mincing words with the Headmaster.

'Miss Granger, you are right on all counts, but some of it is what I deem very sensitive
information. It should probably wait for a couple of years. I have every intention of telling him
things he needs to know.'

'No offense professor, this is just my opinion, but basically you're thinking he's
too immature and kiddish to deal with all this, right?'

Dumbledore sighed again, he seemed to be doing that a lot in the last ten minutes.

'None taken, Miss Granger,' he said sofltly, before continuing, 'By no means do I
think he's immature, but-'

'So why don't you tell him?' Hermione interrupted, 'He'll probably hate
having things kept from him, especially things about himself. He faced V-Vol - You-Know-Who three
times, he's dealed with so much pressure this year. I mean all the idiots thought he was the
heir of Slytherin and he was subject to their ridicule and now everyone will probably be hiding
their dirty faces in shame because he trumped through and proved himself, despite the odds.
He's-'

'Miss Granger, Miss Granger,' Dumbledore said softly, holding up a hand for her to stop.
Hermione stopped mid-rant.

'All I can say is I definitely will consider it. You have enlightened me to an extent.
That's all I can offer at this moment. Now, please tell me what you wanted to ask me when you
arrived here?'

Hermione looked at him for a moment but knew that was as good as she was going to get for the
time being, so she plowed forward.

'I remember last year Harry stayed at his uncle's place for some time, but then the
Weasleys flew h- took him to their house, and... and that seemed to be alright. So... So I was
wondering if Harry could visit my house for the summer this year?' Hermione asked softly.

Dumbledore peered down seriously at Hermione, his half-moon spectacles falling down to his
nose.

'That.. might be acceptable, if he has no problems, that is,' Dumbledore finally
responded.

'Great!!' Hermione squealed, then immediately covered her mouth with her hand, blushing
furiously. Dumbledore smiled down knowingly at her.

'Well, I've already written a letter to my parents asking if it's okay with them,
although I'm sure they'd have no problems, and I'll ask Harry today at breakfast,'
Hermione said, her face returning to its normal colour.

'That is reasonable, Miss Granger. However, I must insist that he stay at his relatives'
for a week or so before going to your house. I know he'll probably be disappointed at the idea,
but it is essential,' Dumbledore said.

Hermione's smile dimmed a fraction, though she was still jubilant. From an initial period of
two months, she had brought Harry's certain-to-be unpleasant stay down to barely two weeks.

'Thank you professor,' Hermione beamed, getting up.

'Not at all, Miss Granger. Although it is necessary, I resent the idea of him staying
there,' Dumbledore said, a hint of sadness evident in his voice. 'Is that all?'

'Yes Professor, that-that's the reason I came,' Hermione said, walking toward the
door, Dumbledore striding along side her.

'Well, off you go then, Miss Granger, I'm sorry about the examinations once again. Good
morning.'

'Bye Professor,' Hermione responded, before she made her way down the rotating
staircase.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair wearily. The girl had certainly opened his eyes and now he was
beginning to wonder whether his plan was as foolproof as he thought it to be.

Harry *was* mature and he had a right to know all the secrets concerning himself. His
mother's sacrifice, the prophecy, his scar...

Yet, the old part of Dumbledore, the part that held secrets close to himself, afraid to share,
afraid to trust freely ; saw no reason in diverting from the plan. Everything would turn out well
and good after all, no need to disturb the equilibrium, stick to the plan and things would be
good...

*'Ah, for the greater good, after all,'* Dumbledore thought bitterly, his head in
his hands, as memories of a hundred years flashed by in his mind.

Was he doing the right thing, manipulating people for their own benefit, for the greater
good?

He frowned, he had felt the same way at the end of last year when Harry had done so
magnificently, but now Hermione's short outburst brought these feelings to the surface
again.

He probably wasn't manipulating them, but yet he knew his plan rendered many good people at
a disadvantage.

A small, soothing chirp aroused him from his melancholic thoughts.

He looked intently at Fawkes for a moment, feeling the entire hundred and twenty odd years of
his age, not knowing how to proceed..

'Maybe I *am* going about things the wrong way,' he said uncertainly to himself,
'After all it wouldn't be the first time,' he finished in shame.

Vowing to think about his actions further, for now he settled himself to reaching over and
putting three pieces of his favourite candy into his mouth.

Fawkes chirped pleasantly again.







I hope you liked this chapter and hopefully I'll update much sooner than I did this
time.

Please review, although I'm not able to respond to all reviews, I DO read and appreciate
every single one, so hit the review button guys!!









6. What Happened in the Tent - Part I
-------------------------------------







Please read the AN at the bottom of this chapter when you're done reading the chapter---







Chapter 6 - What Happened in the Tent - Part I







Harry walked up the stairs to his dormitory, the short conversation he had with Hermione buzzing
around in his head.

He climbed into his bed, glad that Ron was fast asleep and not awake to question and pester
him.

Hermione's reaction to him mentioning Ginny certainly suggested to him that she wasn't
pleased with it. Did that mean she fancied him? Or did it just mean she only had a friendly
interest and that she thought he could do much better than Ginny?

He really wished he could have kissed her when he mentioned having eyes on another girl, but
something had quelled him. Even now, he didn't know how Hermione felt about him in return. He
knew how she had felt all along in a previous lifetime of his. Oh yes, he remembered. He remembered
finding out too late. He remembered realising on that terrible cold night that he couldn't do
anything about it, that he was too late, that he had missed his chance.....







December 1997 - Ten minutes after Ron Weasley's Departure







*Harry laid down on his makeshift bed, his head throbbing vigorously, the events of the last
five minutes roaring at him, burning themselves in his mind ; rendering sleep impossible.*

*He saw red at that moment, hating every last thing in the universe ; he sat up in a fit of
uncontrollable rage, ripping his pillow into shreds, discarding the feathers of the bed piece all
over the floor. He threw his bed sheet away from him with a snarl, he got out of his bed and paced
his small room furiously.*

*He was a loner, he thought to himself darkly, always was one and always would be one, he told
himself again and again, staring out into the night with hatred etched permanently into his
emerald-green eyes, eyes that had once sparkled with life and joy.*

*He truly loathed everything he knew in that moment - Ron - for abandoning him cruelly like
that, Dumbledore - for his damned manipulations, Sirius - for leaving him although it was his fault
he had died in the first place, and his parents - for sacrificing themselves and allowing him to
live this cursed, wretched life.....*

*As he walked to the doorway he imagined he could hear something. Straining his ears, not
really caring, he idly noted that it was the muffled sobs coming from Hermione. Too numb from shock
and pain to do anything at that point, he merely listened for a moment with disgusted impatience,
before he continued his strides. In fact, he reckoned he liked the sounds of her crying.*

*'Good,' he thought to himself savagely, hatred against her flowing through him,
'Let her feel some of what I'm feeling, let her suffer like I have all this
time...'*

*Even as he thought that, he felt sick, he felt disgusted with himself. How could he even
think that? He had every right to feel angry at Ron, Dumbledore, Voldemort, the world in general,
but why Hermione...? She had done nothing to him, except unerringly stand by him when he was weak,
when he was downtrodden and lost...*

*And now he was revelling in her misery, dispassionately listening to her weep, as if he could
care less about the whole thing.....*

*'FUCKKKKKKK!!!!' Harry roared, his suffering fueling his anger as he fell to his
knees in shame, hot tears of disgust and shame flowing angrily down his cheeks.*

*He moaned softly to himself, crying quietly, just as he had done so many times in the dark,
small cupboard of Number Four..*

*His hatred and anger against everyone in the world vanished abruptly, only to multiply and
redirect venomously back at himself, for harming someone he never even dreamed he could possibly
harm, the sweet, innocent person in the other room, someone who had only ever strived to help and
comfort him...*

*And how had he comforted her in return? He threw a blanket over her and left the room without
even uttering a word.*

*He chuckled to himself in self-loathing.*

*As if in a trance, he got up slowly and made his way back to Hermione's room, determined
to have his say ; determined to do **something**.*

*'H-Hermione?' he called anxiously.*

*Hermione immediately stiffened. She obviously hadn't been expecting Harry to come back
and talk to her ; not after what happened.*

*'What is it, Harry?' she said softly, not looking at him. She was sitting
Indian-style in the middle of her bed, her blanket in her hand.*

*Harry walked over to her and gingerly sat down on the edge of her bed. He pretended not to
notice Hermione's eyebrows raise alarmingly out of the corner of his eyes.*

*'I-I just wanted to-to' Harry stumbled, not knowing what exactly he had come here
for, all he knew was that he would regret it if he hadn't come.*

*To his surprise, Hermione nodded and she turned to face him at last. Harry was shocked when
he saw the red, puffy face of his best friend. She was most definitely crying in here before he had
come, worse than he had originally thought.*

*He then found, much to his consternation, that he didn't want to take his eyes away from
Hermione's bleary form. For, even now, like this, she was just beautiful.*

*'I'm sorry, Hermione,' Harry blurted, knowing that he could say nothing else, yet
hating himself for sounding so woefully inadequate.*

*'What for?' Hermione sniffed. 'You have nothing to be sorry for. H-He's the
one who l-left.'*

*'I know... but, I'm still sorry. I-I made you choose, I forced you into a decision
you obviously weren't comfortable making. I-'*

*'Harry,' Hermione interrupted, 'I made the decision to stay. You didn't force
me, no one makes my decisions for me, not even Ronald Bilius Weasley.'*

*The uncomfortable, tension-filled atmosphere immediately thickened even further, the iciness
in the air comparable to the cold, biting weather outside their small tent.*

*The palpable silence seemed to mock them, eerily flapping its wings in Hermione's room,
glorying in the negative vibes it had caused to perpetuate between the two teenagers.*

*After a moment, it was Harry who broke the silence.*

*'Yes, I guess no one makes their decisions for you, certainly not **him**,' Harry
said.*

*They seemed to just stay there for some time, hanging about in existence, neither willing to
skirt the topic of Ron, but both knew that they would have to discuss him eventually ; they knew
they couldn't get away without doing so.*

*'But yet, for what it's worth, I'm still sorry. I have a feeling... I have a
feeling that I haven't exactly appreciated enough how much you've done for me and how much
you've sacrificed for me,' Harry said, in a rush to get all the words out before he lost
his nerve.*

*Hermione smiled but didn't say anything.*

*'So I wanted to say, um, thank you as well. Because I owe you a lot for always standing
by me, for being there for me when no one would, especially now,' Harry added the last part
bitterly.*

*At his words, a soft sob escaped Hermione before she could stop it and she immediately turned
away from him.*

*Concerned, Harry reflexively ventured, 'I'm sorry Hermione, I shouldn't
have-' Harry stopped. What had he said to upset Hermione? Even with his limited knowledge of
girls, he knew that whatever he had just said couldn't have been upsetting to anyone.*

*Hermione must have heard him stop in mid-sentence and seen his look of confusion, for she
replied softly, 'No, Harry, I'm not upset with you. It's just that no one's ever
told me how much I meant to them.'*

*Harry brightened up at her words, but then another question popped into his mind, one which
he was hesitant to ask because of Hermione's sensitivity to it.*

*Hermione looked as if she knew what he was thinking, but either chose to unconsciously ignore
it or deliberately do so.*

*'Well, my parents told me so when I was younger... but that's like a different
lifetime now, isn't it?' Hermione made a brave effort to smile, but it failed miserably as
her face was bloated with tears by that point and recent events gave no desire for Harry to smile
either.*

*Harry knew at that point that he should move a bit closer to Hermione and offer her a
shoulder or something to cry on, he ought to comfort her a bit, but then Ron's contemptuous
face popped into his mind, sneering at him.*

*'I get it... You choose HIM!' Harry thought with dejection and anger as a livid Ron
snarled at a bawling Hermione. They were both his best friends, weren't they? Then why did they
treat each other like that? And now that Ron was gone, by his own decision as Hermione had expertly
pointed out, shouldn't he help the only best friend he had left?*

*With a steely determination he didn't know he possessed, he forcefully shoved the image
of Ron and any related memories out of his head and boldly ventured closer towards
Hermione.*

*Summing up all his courage, hoping his face revealed nothing, he darted his large, rough hand
forward and clasped Hermione's small, soft one, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his
thumb.*

*The shock on Hermione's face however, wasn't disguised as adeptly as the nervousness
on Harry's. She raised her eyebrows and her first impulse was to snatch her hand back, feeling
it as a sign of disloyalty to Ron. The same Ron who didn't care how she felt, the same Ron that
abandoned her, Hermione thought bitterly. 'No', she decided to herself, as she extended
Harry's actions into a small hug, 'I need this as much as Harry does.'*

*'It isn't your fault that he left, Harry,' Hermione started, fully aware of being
in Harry's comforting embrace for the first time in a long time. They hadn't had many of
these hugs in the last year, she reflected morosely.*

*'But you can't deny what he said,' Harry replied softly, 'Barring the locket,
we've had no success whatsoever in this wretched mission.'*

*'And we haven't been able to destroy that either,' Hermione added unhelpfully,
but both of them knew that this was the time for the truth, and nothing else.*

*'Yeah, that too,' Harry added.*

*'But that's not your fault, Harry,' Hermione said, leaning into him, 'We were
trying our best and if Ron's not satisfied with it, then that's his problem. He acted like
someone who doesn't know you at all, he really thought we would be living in hotels, eating
chicken and beer and that we would have finished this whole thing by Christmas in order to get a
sampling of mummy's Christmas special,' Hermione finished scathingly.*

*Harry stayed still in shock, he had never heard Hermione talk like this before, he had
expected her to sob all over him and hear her declarations of deep affections for Ron. All though
he failed to understand why, that thought pained him probably even more than Ron's betrayal.
Hermione, however, wasn't finished.*

*'Yes, the fact is, we've had pretty much no success. But we will come across
something soon and win this, because what we're doing is right, what You-Know-Who's doing
is wrong. It's as simple as that.'*

*'Hermione, but you have to understand, I don't feel that confident at all, I
don't think I can take him on, I don't even feel like the Chosen One, I...'*

*'Harry,' Hermione interrupted soothingly, laying a palm on his chest and looking into
his eyes, 'I believe in you.'*

*Something in Harry broke at those simple words of confidence and trust from Hermione. He felt
some part of him that was restrained, that was bound by chains, leave him forever and it was as
though he had been given a new life to live, fresh air to breathe. The sensations that he was
feeling couldn't be described as anything other than wondrous, and for that moment, as he and
Hermione locked eyes with each other, the cold, indifferent night seemed to wash away, leaving
something purely pleasant behind.*

*'Thanks,' was all Harry could say as he looked intently at Hermione, trying to gauge
what was going on behind those meaningful dark brown eyes.*

*'I know you're only human, Harry, but I'll always be with you, for as long as you
wa- need me,' Hermione replied, not taking her eyes off his either.*

*Harry nodded in response. He didn't know what he was supposed to do now. He knew he
didn't want to leave, this was probably the most meaningful time he had spent with Hermione
since before sixth year, a year where he didn't seem to need her like he did now.*

*The reflective melancholy must have been clearly visible on his face, because Hermione asked,
'What's wrong?'*

*'No-Nothing,' Harry replied. He didn't want to bring up sixth year now, a year
where everything had changed for the both of them.*

*'Harry, what is it?' Hermione surged on, curiosity and a hint of the old bossiness
lacing her voice. Harry grinned. She hadn't been like that for a long time, and he was
surprised to say he missed it.*

*'It's just that-that- we haven't been like this for a long time,' he said,
hoping that more words weren't necessary, and that Hermione would be able to figure it out
without further explanation from him.*

*He needn't have worried ; it was Hermione after all, the person in the world who knew him
the most.*

*'Hmmm,' she offered sadly, 'Sixth year, huh?'*

*'Yeah.'*

*'Do you ever sit down and wonder what happened to all of us that year?' Hermione
asked.*

*'No, not really,' Harry replied.*

*'I have,' Hermione said, and Harry couldn't but help smiling ; Hermione always
sat down and thought things over thoroughly, no matter what the topic or question. To his surprise,
the tears started falling again from Hermione's face as she looked at him despondently and she
opened her mouth to speak.*

*'We were all so different last year, and me, I was such a - such a **horrible** person
to you and to Ron and-'*

*'No, you weren't,' Harry said automatically. True, he had been unnaturally
distant with his female best friend the whole year, but that was because of his fixation on Snape
and Malfoy, and his refusal to give up the Potions book, which Hermione absolutely
despised.*

*'Yes I was Harry!' Hermione said hotly, 'Even though I hated that book of yours,
I shouldn't have let it come in the way of our friendship by making snide remarks about you and
fighting with you over every small damned thing, and then-'*

*'It wasn't my book, it was that foul murderer's,' Harry spat, venom filling
his tone, 'I was foolish enough not to listen to you and get carried away with it. I
should've known by then that not listening to you is a pretty foolish course of
action.'*

*Hermione blushed and looked away from Harry.*

*'You don't mean that,' she mumbled, still not daring to look at Harry.*

*'I do,' Harry said, 'You were right in second year about the monster. You were
the only one who figured it out. You were right in third when you thought that Sirius sent me the
broomstick. And when I thought he was in danger, you were right when you said it was a trap and we
shouldn't go to the Ministry. And then you were right about that book belonging to a filthy
traitor,-'*

*'I wasn't right about that. I never liked the book, but I never thought of it
belonging to him and while we're on the topic, I was wrong and you were right about Snape and
Malfoy,' Hermione whispered.*

*'Well, it's really heartening for my mind to find out that I was right at least
once,' Harry grinned, trying to lighten the mood.*

*'Don't be silly Harry, you can manage perfectly fine without me to tell you
what's right, in fact you managed perfectly last year,' Hermione muttered the last part so
softly that even Harry could barely hear.*

*'What? What are you talking about? What happened that made you-'*

*'Harry, I hate actually saying the words, but it was so painfully obvious last year that
you neither needed or desired my friendship,' Hermione said.*

*'WHAT?!' Harry exclaimed, stung by her callous remark, 'Are you
saying-'*

*Hermione raised her hand to silence Harry's reply.*

*'I'm not saying it's your fault, Harry. You had everything you needed. You had a
best friend you could talk to about Quidditch and teenage boy stuff, you had a book that would help
you pass your exams and you later got a super-smart beautiful girlfriend who you could talk to
about all your troubles. Even with the war on and Dumbledore's distressing lessons of
You-Know-Who, you were the happiest I had seen you for a long time and more importantly you
achieved it without me! I don't know why I was so hateful to you for that, but I was! No wait.
Let me finish,' she said, as Harry opened his mouth to speak, possibly to contradict her,
'It took me a funeral, a funeral held for Dumbledore and the sight of you heartbroken, lying
over his bent, broken body to understand how much I had screwed up, how much I had lost sight of
what's truly important.*

*Harry stayed still in shock, not taking his grip off of Hermione, he wondered how long
Hermione had been wanting to get this off her chest ; she was obviously distressed for a long time
and yet he had done nothing about it...*

*'After the funeral,' she continued, 'After you talked to Scrimgeour, me, Ron and
Ginny went back inside to the castle, sensing that you needed some time alone. I knew by then that
you had just broken up with Ginny and you were probably hurting over it, but then I saw something
that made my heart break, that made me cry loudly, that made me more depressed than anything else
ever had in my life, probably even more depressing than three years of unreturned
feelings...'*

*'What did you see?' Harry asked, not registering Hermione's words fully, as he
was too busy trying to recollect what he had done that had devastated Hermione.*

*'I saw you falling,' Hermione replied monotonously.*

*'Eh?' Harry replied, clueless as to what Hermione was talking about, but it was
definitely something really important to Hermione as she was now crying harder than she was before
and she was trembling in his arms.*

*'I-I saw you fall to your knees beside the tomb,' Hermione sobbed even louder as she
said this, she moved closer into Harry's arms and burrowed her face in his chest. 'I saw
despair and a sense of...helplessness on your face that day. It was something I had never seen. It
looked as though you had just given up completely. And at that moment, it struck me. Struck me
hard. It just hit me out of nowhere, well, it probably hit me from the angst and loneliness
radiating from you. You had so many things left to do, so many things to say and you had no one.
When I saw you on your knees that day, I knew what you needed. You needed an outlet, a support,
possibly a friend. You had just broken up with Ginny, you wouldn't touch the book with a
ten-foot pole after its owner turned your life upside down ; Ron probably wouldn't be the best
person for the job, considering his emotional range and all...'*

*She took a moment to catch her breath and to get the worst out. Harry just looked at her
impassively, he remembered the time he had just fallen, without even holding himself, and Hermione
was right. The harsh reality of the White Tomb struck him at that moment, the sun gleaming off its
decorated edges and he felt a concentrated disconnection with the world around him, as though he
was on a different plane of existence...*

*'I thought that left me as the only person left for you. But I was wrong. I thought that,
even with our distance throughout the year, you would come to me and cry on my shoulder. But I was
wrong. You never came. Even with your immense disappointment, even with the weight of the
mountainous task ahead of you, you didn't even consider coming to me for support, coming to me
for help... And that was when I almost died, Harry. I never hated myself more than I did in that
moment. I couldn't breathe, for the realisation of what I had done, of what I had thrown away
hit me like a bullet. I don't even know how I could have even **attempted** forgetting my
only true l-'*

*Here, Hermione shook her head furiously, as if trying to rid herself of something, before she
continued.*

*'The fact that you were there, in pain, hurting and grieving over your loss, and that
still you hadn't thought of coming to me, hurt me more than you can ever imagine. I made a
promise to myself that night, Harry. I swore that I would never abandon you again. I swore that I
would help you always and make sure to avoid a repeat of that year's fiasco. So now, after Ron
left, you still didn't come to me, even though I was hurting just as much as you were. You gave
me your blanket and went to sleep.'*

*'I came to you now, I know you-'*

*'I know you did, Harry, but I'm just telling you why I'm so upset, why I'm
sad. I swore not to leave you and now I find that you still can't stand the sight of me, much
less be alone with me.. '*

*'I can't reply to that Hermione. I don't know, I'm just overwhelmed by
everything you've just said. But the important thing is, I'm with you now. Initially, I
just walked away after R-Ron left, but then I heard you crying and then something struck me too.
Putting it in your own words, it was probably the grief radiating from you that struck me. I
don't exactly know what happened, but I knew then, deep down, that I didn't EVER want to
hear you crying like that again. I-'*

*'I should have used a Silencing Charm,' Hermione commented bitterly, 'Then you
wo-'*

*'No, I'm glad you didn't, because then, we wouldn't be able to talk like
this. Tomorrow and the day after and the days after would've been awkward and uncomfortable for
both of us. We wouldn't-'*

*'I know,' Hermione silenced him and continued, 'I'm glad I could talk to you
about this too. I just wanted you to know, that's why I was crying. Not because Ron left, well,
partly because of that, but mainly because I thought that I had somehow failed to help you again
and that you couldn't bare to stand my presence anymore.'*

*'That will never happen, Hermione, I promise you that. Whenever I have a problem,
whenever something's bothering me, you're the first person I think of to go to, and it will
always remain that way, no matter what. It's because you're super-smart and I could trust
you with anything, absolutely anything,' Harry said, not knowing where the words were coming
from, yet somehow knowing that they were the right ones to say. He looked at her deeply for another
moment before leaning forward and kissing her softly on the forehead.*

*'Not to mention you're incredibly beautiful, too,' Harry whispered huskily while
pulling away from her forehead and looking directly into her eyes again.*

*A soft tinge of pink appeared on Hermione's cheeks as she smiled nervously at
him.*

*Harry didn't know what was going on with him. It had started when he heard Hermione
crying and then intensified in the last few minutes because of his close proximity with his best
friend. Although, on hindsight, it seemed like he had always felt this way...*

*'There's another thing I forgot to tell you,' Harry said.*

*'Oh?' Hermione inquired.*

*'It's another thing you were right about,' Harry said.*

*'What is it?' Hermione pressed, not taking her eyes off him.*

*'There was a time long ago,' Harry began, 'We were alone and we were both in
danger like we are now.'*

*Hermione looked curiously at Harry.*

*'We were just about to get separated. Before leaving, you told me something that I never
thought much about. Books and cleverness... you said that there were more important things in the
world. Friendship, bravery, and... love,' Harry whispered, gently putting his hand under
Hermione's face and lifting her chin up.*

*'I never said love, Harry,' Hermione said, gulping nervously. Feelings she thought
that she had managed to suppress a long time ago were dangerously coming back to the surface
again.*

*'I'm saying it, Hermione Jane Granger, because I think I'm hopelessly in love
with you. You didn't say the word love before, but I said it to complete your sentence, in the
same way that you complete me,' Harry whispered, looking into her eyes for a quick second, he
had a feeling he wouldn't find any discouragement in there ; he was right. At the same time,
they seemed to move forward an inch or two, before Hermione stayed herself, Harry closed his eyes
and completed it, capturing her lips with his.*







*****







*(To be continued)*







AN - I initially had a hazy picture of this chapter in my mind and I was going to give it to you
guys as a brief dream of Harry's, but then I changed my mind and wrote it in detail. That's
because the angst and H/Hr interaction in this and the next chapter (which is gonna be 'What
Happened in the Tent - Part II') is going to be the basis for a lot of Harry's decisions
and reactions to the Weasleys and Hermione later on in the story.

And I know it said in Book 7 that it's Hermione Jean Granger, but I don't care. As far
as I'm concerned, her name is Hermione Jane Granger, and nothing else!

Also, this is the first time I've written anything bordering on angst, so please tell me
what you thought about it. Did it suck? Or was it believable angst? Tell me in a review!!







7. What Happened in the Tent - Part II
--------------------------------------







Chapter 7 - What Happened in the Tent - Part II







*Hermione looked curiously at Harry.*

*'We were just about to get separated. Before leaving, you told me something that I never
thought much about. Books and cleverness... you said that there were more important things in the
world. Friendship, bravery, and... love,' Harry whispered, gently putting his hand under
Hermione's face and lifting her chin up.*

*'I never said love, Harry,' Hermione said, gulping nervously. Feelings she thought
that she had managed to suppress a long time ago were dangerously coming back to the surface
again.*

*'I'm saying it, Hermione Jane Granger, because I think I'm hopelessly in love
with you. You didn't say the word love before, but I said it to complete your sentence, in the
same way that you complete me,' Harry whispered, looking into her eyes for a quick second, he
had a feeling he wouldn't find any discouragement in there ; he was right. At the same time,
they seemed to move forward an inch or two, before Hermione stayed herself, Harry closed his eyes
and completed it, capturing her lips with his.*







*****







*Hermione stayed absolutely still in Harry's arms, not moving, not reacting ; the shock of
the moment suspended in the air as her eyes desperately sought Harry's, trying to figure out
what was going on there, trying to figure out what exactly was going on..*

*Her lack of response soon became evident as Harry gently removed his lips from hers and
looked at her sadly, a tear creeping out of his eye.*

*She hated herself for liking it ; for reveling in the feel of his soft lips on hers, even
though his kiss lasted not more than three seconds.*

*Harry looked at her impassively and silently, only his eyes betraying his true emotions,
emotions that should have been shown ages ago and which were now threatening to burst out
uncontrollably.*

*Hermione looked back at him, her face just as expressionless as his was, as she slowly moved
away from him. Harry withdrew his arms without protest, and that act truly signified him letting
Hermione go.*

*Hermione knew that moving away from him would terrify both of them, so she just scooted away
from him, choosing to remain on the same bed as he was, yet out of arm's reach.*

*For a moment, no one spoke. Harry looked away from Hermione, instead choosing to look toward
the entrance of their small tent, idly watching the outline of the furious rains pelting down on
the forest floor.*

*Unable to bear the silence any longer, Harry finally spoke.*

*'H-Her-Hermione?' he called tentatively.*

*But Hermione seemed to be steadfast in her resolution not to look at him, for she continued
to look elsewhere.*

*'Hermione, please-'*

*'Why now, Harry?' Hermione suddenly asked fiercely. 'Why now of all
times?'*

*'Hermione, I-'*

*'No, Harry! I don't want to hear anything! I've never asked for much, but I think
I deserve more than this!!' Hermione screamed, and for a dreadful moment, Harry thought even
she would take her bags and announce that she was leaving. Leaving him to go back to Ron...*

*'I'm sorry, Hermione, I shouldn't have-'*

*'Harry, please... just... stop,' Hermione whispered, and it was the plea in her voice
more than anything that stopped Harry from speaking further.*

*Harry closed his eyes ; it seems that all he was doing lately was the wrong thing.*

*The silence was palpable ; you would have to be a fool to not feel it. The iciness of the
weather and Harry and Hermione's new relationship was permeating the tent, rendering them both
unspeakable ; their minds racing furiously but their actions devoid of meaning.*

*'I think you should go, Harry. Go back to sleep,' Hermione said softly, still not
looking at him and Harry felt then that he would give away all the gold in his Gringotts account in
a heartbeat to make her look at him again.*

*Harry got up miserably, taking a glance at Hermione's tear-stricken face, even now he
couldn't help but stare at her ; she was beautiful. All of her ; she was just perfect,
absolutely flawless, even with the mess that was her bushy brown hair, her red puffy eyes, her soft
tear-stained cheeks, right down till her adorable lips that were quivering with her emotions ; her
lips were just pink, unlike many girls who loved cosmetics and lipstick, purely pink, like her
heart.....*

*He closed his eyes tightly, before walking slowly away from the weeping form of Hermione,
back to his own room, his own den of solitude. He, however, was stopped dead in his tracks as
Hermione spoke out again.*

*'We've known each other for so many years, Harry,' Hermione interrupted softly,
'why now? Why now when I've set my heart on someone else?'*

*Harry felt as if someone had withdrawn his heart and stabbed it. How could he have not known?
How could he have overlooked the big picture? Because of course, Hermione liked Ron...*

*'So many years of lost time....' Hermione whispered ruefully, so softly that even
Harry couldn't hear the words.*

*For Harry, that was it. He would not leave here until he saw Hermione smiling again. He could
not stand to see Hermione crying, least of all because of him. No, that was Ron's job. He would
apologize and beg her for forgiveness until she was satisfied and finally forgave him. He would not
allow her to be hurt again ; too many people had done it before, including her two best friends.
She had stuck by him when the man she loved hadn't, and how had he repaid her?*

*No, he decided firmly ; he was going to tell her that it was a mistake ; that he acted in the
heat of the moment, even though that was not true...*

*'Hermione, I'm sorry, ok? I'm so sorry, I messed up, it was a big mistake, I
shouldn't have-'*

*Hermione laughed self-depreciatingly. She shook her head hastily before replying.*

*'That was one of my worst fears for a long time.'*

*'What was?' Harry asked.*

*'You kissing me and then apologizing, saying it was a big mistake.'*

*Harry moved forward, not daring to believe what he had just heard.*

*'Wh-What are you saying, Hermione?' Harry asked in shock, inching closer to
her.*

*Hermione didn't reply, instead choosing to wipe a tear furiously from the corner of her
eye.*

*'Hermione?' Harry breathed, his eyes the perfect description of shock, pain and
confusion.*

*'I told you I've already set my heart on someone. No matter how much I try setting
it, my heart has always remained with one person, someone else, one small boy who once saved me
from a troll long ago.'*

*'I wasn't the one who saved you,' Harry breathed sadly, 'it was R- him who
managed to get the **Wingardium Leviosa** correct and save-'*

*'I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about the boy who jumped onto the
troll's back and stuck his wand up the troll's nose to save me. He did that for me,'
Hermione said softly, looking up at him at long last.*

*Harry fell to his knees in front of her ; numb with shock over what she had said, frozen with
fear as its implications entered his mind ; he closed his eyes so tight that he could see orange
circles in his imaginary vision.*

*'Please talk, Hermione,' Harry said weakly, his voice shaking and his hands shivering
as he desperately tried to catch Hermione's eye again.*

*Hermione's subsequent gaze shocked him to the core ; he felt goosebumps creep up along
his arms and up his spine, there was so much emotion in there ; he had never seen this much
meaning, this much depth in Hermione's brown orbs. He didn't know that these were passions
that were pent up and haunting his best friend for seven long years.*

*'You never really knew, did you?' Hermione asked, her eyes now reflecting the sadness
in her heart.*

*'Of all people, you know me the best, Hermione. You know I'm rubbish at reading the
signals that beautiful women send out,' Harry said softly, rubbing her cheeks with his
thumb.*

*'Harry, don't do this, please don't-'*

*'Please say it. I want to hear it. I **need** to hear it, Hermione,' Harry
replied, slowly taking her hand in his.*

*This was too much for Hermione who fell down onto her knees resulting in them both kneeling
on the ground, facing each other, their hands intertwined.*

*'Harry, we still can't, I mean, that is to say, we can't do this to them,'
Hermione finished strongly, the conviction in her voice present, yet absent.*

*'To Ron and Ginny,' Harry continued bitterly.*

*'Yes, to them. I'm with Ron and you're with Ginny,' Hermione said
blandly.*

*'I broke up with Ginny at Dumbledore's funeral and you're not with Ron. He left,
remember?' Harry said scathingly.*

*'He'll be back, Harry,' Hermione whispered, 'I know it, I feel it. He always
comes back in the end, he comes back for us. You know that,' Hermione sighed.*

*'Hermione, him coming back has got nothing to do with this, with us,' Harry said and
then he continued, 'you're not with him, you don't owe him anything, and as for Ginny,
well....' Harry trailed off uncomfortably.*

*'That's what I'm saying, Harry,' Hermione said, removing her hands from his,
'she loves you, she's expecting you to get back with her after all this is over. She's
waiting for you and now she's leading a mutiny at Hogwarts against Pro - Snape, believing that
she's helping you in whatever way she can. She loves you Harry, and I don't think I can
ever come in between that,' Hermione finished.*

*'Hermione,' Harry said agitatedly, 'We can explain, they are good people,
they'll understand... I want to be with the person that's always stuck by me no matter
what, the person who's never abandoned me, the only person who understands me, who knows me ;
and that person is Hermione Granger, not Ginny Weasley.'*

*'What about Ron?' Hermione whispered furiously, 'Sometimes he's
short-sighted, losing sight of what's truly important, but at the end, when it comes down to
it... he's a good person, Harry. He helps us, he needs us just like we need him... And what
about the rest of the Weasleys, Harry? They've loved us as if we're their own family, we
can't repay them like this. I know that Ron loves me and I certainly know that Ginny loves
you... I can't do this to them, we can't do this to them. I'm so sorry, Harry, I want
this as much as you do, even more in fact, but right now, I think we should pick what's right,
not what's easy.'*

*Harry got up, partially disgusted with Hermione, but knowing deep down that she was right.
Nevertheless, her words made him more angry than he would care to admit and he replied callously,
with an angry glint in his eye, 'You're right Hermione. By not acting on our feelings and
pretending to love someone else, we're doing the **right** thing. I've noticed that
during your little monologue, you didn't say what I thought you'd say, what I wanted to
hear you say. So, do you really feel that way for me, or is it just a nice way of rejecting
me?'*

*Hermione's eyes widened in shock and then they turned a feral black at Harry's last
question and then she **pounced** on him.*

*'HOW DARE YOU!!' she screamed, slapping him hard around the face and then punching
whichever part of him she could reach.*

*'HOW DARE YOU SAY I'M A LIAR, THAT I DON'T – THAT I DON'T LO –
LOVE-' Hermione roared incoherently, completely losing control for the first time in her life,
her anger fueling her forward, as Harry nearly lost his footing and kept backing away from
Hermione's brutal onslaught.*

*'Hermione, please-'*

*'SHUT UP, HARRY!!! I DON'T WANT TO BLOODY HEAR IT! NOT FROM YOU! NEVER FROM YOU! FOUR
YEARS, I'VE KEPT IT HIDDEN, WILLING IT TO GO AWAY, LONGING TO FORGET IT, BUT IT NEVER DID! IT
NEVER EVER DID! I'VE FELT IT UNCONCSCIOUSLY FOR SEVEN YEARS AND I'VE KNOWN IT FOR FOUR
YEARS AND NOW YOU'RE SAYING IT'S A LIE, THAT ALL THE YEARS OF STUPID HERMIONE GRANGER'S
ANGST WERE A LIE??!! I HATE YOU, HARRY POTTER!!!!' she bellowed, punctuating every sentence
with a blow to Harry's form, and then towards the end of her rant she did something Harry would
never expect, especially when she was so literally shaking with anger : She seemed to sag for a
moment, her helplessness catching up to her, before falling to her knees in front of him and
hugging him tightly around the waist, squeezing him as tightly as she could.*

*'Hermione...' Harry said in pain, not because of the vice-like grip Hermione had on
him.*

*But by then Hermione seemed to deflate completely, her anger fizzing out just like that, and
Harry was left with an emotionally-drained woman sobbing uncontrollably into his shirt.*

*'Harry...' Hermione said in between sniffs, her voice muffled because she was crying
into the folds of his shirt.*

*She took a deep breath in and then continued shakily, 'Please don't ever suggest that
again. Do whatever you want after this... Go out with Ginny, don't go out with Ginny, date a
hundred different girls, never speak to me again, ignore me all the time.. I don't care. But
never, ever say that - that-' Hermione couldn't finish her sentence as a fresh batch of
tears overcame her and she broke off, sobbing loudly.*

*Harry fell to his knees again, as he too started crying softly. He clapped a hand to his
forehead, wondering when he had become so careless, so unfeeling. He shook his head bitterly as
tears fell down his face thick and fast, as his heart and mind clashed furiously...*

*Hermione's grip on him was relentless, she knew she couldn't go on any further, she
knew that she couldn't argue or talk or even think any further, so she mustered up whatever
strength she had left and spoke, 'Never, ever say that I d - don't love you. Because -
Because I do love you, Harry Potter, I have for so long, ever since I threw my arms around you in
fear when we were on Buckbeak, all that time...'*

*Harry's eyes rolled back into his head and he looked at Hermione as if seeing her for the
first time. He continued to look at her, mindless of anything else, his emerald green eyes
devouring hers with their intensity, before he tilted his head a fraction of an inch
forward.*

*'Harry, we can't do this, we-'*

*'Sshhh, Hermione,' Harry said soothingly. 'Don't think, just
feel.'*

*And with that Harry pulled his face closer to Hermione's ; for the second time that night
he softly pressed his lips against hers, his eyes closing of their own accord.*

*But this time Hermione responded, she responded with passion ; she found his lips urgently
and winded her arms around his lower back, bringing them up into his hair before pulling his face
down insistently to melt into hers.*

*She continued caressing his lips softly with hers, her hands roving about aimlessly in his
messy black hair. Never had she felt this alive, never had something been this electrifying to her
; not even thinking about Ron made her feel this passionate.*

*'**Harry**,' Hermione moaned throatily, and that noise stirred something primal in
Harry, something so animalistic that Harry ran his tongue desperately along her lower lip, begging
for entrance.*

*Hermione immediately complied ; she had wanted this, she had needed this for almost seven
years now and she had been actively craving it for almost four.*

*Their mouths opened to each other for the first time, as Hermione's tongue delved into
the soft interior of Harry's mouth, playing with his tongue and fighting for dominance.*

*They stayed in each others' embrace for another moment, before the need for air became
too great, and they pulled apart panting, looking at each other breathlessly.*

*Hermione looked at Harry through lidded eyes and in that split second, she made her decision.
For once, she would use her heart and not her brain.*

*'Make love to me, Harry,' she whispered softly and dangerously.*

*Harry's eyes widened imperceptibly for a brief second before reverting back to their
normal state.*

*'Hermione, are you-'*

*'Just once, Harry. I want my first - to be you,' Hermione said, her eyes pleading
with him and Harry knew that he would willingly become a murderer as long as those eyes always got
their request granted.*

*'We can't have a relationship, but I want this with you. I don't want to die
knowing I never did anything with you, my only true love,' Hermione finished, looking at him
with barely disguised affection.*

*Harry's heart lightened enormously as he heard Hermione refer to him as her
''true love'' and he felt himself smiling once again, in spite of her earlier
words.*

*'Do you want to make love to me, Harry?' Hermione asked tenderly, and Harry could see
a hint of insecurity on her face.*

*Harry looked at her for a moment, his gaze as tender as hers and he felt himself nodding
slowly in lieu of a response.*

*Hermione gave him a soft smile, even though there was a hint of sadness about it and Harry
knew why that was so. This was just for tonight, tomorrow they would go back to being normal best
friends, then the war would get over and he would get back together with Ginny and Hermione with
Ron and they would all be happy together. One Big Happy Weasley Family...*

*To all, this would just be a one night stand, and yet only Harry and Hermione knew that it
was actually so much more, that it meant much bigger things for both of them.....*

*'Take me to bed, Harry,' Hermione breathed and Harry did so.*

*He gently lifted her delicate form, one hand supporting her back, the other going under her
knees as he moved forward and gently laid her down on her bed.*

*He reclined at her side, looking at her before she sighed softly.*

*'I wish I could say that for the rest of my life - ''Take me to bed,
Harry'' ,' Hermione cried softly as she wrapped an arm around Harry and tilted her face
into the mattress, not wanting Harry to see her cry when she was lying down in a bed with
him.*

*'Hermione, it'll be alright,' Harry consoled, knowing very well that it
wasn't. He lightly petted her back for a moment, thinking of the right thing to say.*

*'No, it won't,' Hermione sobbed, 'How can you say that? I'm going to say
- ''Take me to bed, Ron'' ' for the rest of my life, when I want it to be you
who takes me to my bed, to **our** bed...' she trailed off, looking at him miserably, a
torrent of tears blocking her vision.*

*'Then we'll make this moment last for a lifetime, Hermione,' Harry said, a
familiar flash of determination appearing in his eye as he held her tightly, 'for all
eternity,' he finished quietly as he kissed her softly on the lips.*

*'Oh Harry!' Hermione replied tenderly as she pulled him against her body, hugging him
for all he was worth.*

*Harry kissed her languorously and lovingly for a few moments before their passion and desire
for each other grew and their kisses became more heated.*

*Hermione pulled away from Harry and Harry looked at her in confusion.*

*Hermione smiled sadly.*

*'Hermione?' Harry asked concernedly.*

*In lieu of a response, Hermione reached over and took out an alarm from her bag. Muttering a
quick charm, she pressed the tip of her wand against the clock and redirected a blue string of
light to her watch.*

*Throwing the alarm back into the bag, she faced Harry.*

*'I want you so much Harry. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone in my whole
life. I need you in me. But this is different. We can't get carried away the whole night,
because if we do that I don't think we'll ever stop.'*

*'What are you getting at Hermione?' Harry asked dully, not sure if he wanted to know
the answer.*

*'I've timed my watch for an hour. After that, well...' Hermione trailed off
morosely, a tear escaping her eyes as she realized the finality of her decision. One hour was all
they had, all they were ever going to have....*

*'After that, we stop,' Harry trailed off, as the true meaning of her words dawned on
him. It meant that one hour was all they had, all they were ever going to have....*

*'I'm so sorry Harry,' Hermione sobbed.*

*'No, Hermione, I am sorry. It's me, it's all because of me... If I had not been a
fool all these years, if I hadn't - NO!' Harry shouted incoherently as it hit him hard at
that moment, the reality of their angst striking him like a hot poker.*

*'Harry?!' Hermione cried out, wondering what had caused Harry to completely lose his
calm demeanor.*

*'Don't you apologize Hermione, don't you ever apologize! It's not your fault,
it was never your fault, you're perfect... It was me, me the fool, I should have realized...
You were there all the time in front of me, waiting, hoping and I?! I was doing nothing, going
after the pretty girls instead of the true beautiful one right in front of me!' Harry spat out
bitterly, wanting to torture himself. And now he was crying much harder than Hermione, though he
was much more silent.*

*'Harry, please...' Hermione moaned desperately, 'let's make the most of
this... one hour...'*

*'Okay Hermione,' Harry said, willing his tears to stop and he fell against Hermione.
Their tear-stained faces an inch apart from each others', they looked at each other sadly for a
second before their faces connected again, this time both of them choosing to kiss away each
other's tears...*

*'Touch me Harry,' Hermione shivered, slowly removing her garments as Harry had just
kissed a tear that had crept onto her neck.*

*Harry's eyes shined with lust and love as he stared down at Hermione's naked
form.*

*A light blush appeared on Hermione's face as she saw Harry's eyes roving over her
body hungrily.*

*'You're so beautiful, Hermione,' Harry whispered, his eyes going back to her
face, 'in and out.'*

*'Oh Harry...' Hermione blushed, as she chanced a quick glance at Harry's naked
torso, before looking back at him.*

*A ghost of a grin appeared on Harry's face as he embraced her again and now they knew
they were both ready. Ready to claim each other in the fullest way possible.*

*'Go slow please, Harry,' Hermione said softly, giving him another sweet kiss.*

*'Anything for you, my Hermione,' Harry replied seriously, running a hand through her
messy brown hair.*

*Hermione sighed wistfully, not wanting to break out into tears again. **My Hermione...**
How long had she waited for him to call her that?*

*Hermione closed her eyes as Harry entered her for the first time, the only time, and they
kissed each other repeatedly as they made love, Harry punctuating each thrust with proclamations of
never-ending love for his partner.*

*'Stay in me for some time, Harry,' Hermione rasped, looking at Harry with nothing but
love in her eyes.*

*Harry moved in a bit deeper till he found a spot he was comfortable in and settled down
there.*

*Turning them around so that Hermione was now on top of him, he kissed her on the forehead and
wrapped his arms around her slender waist.*

*Hermione smiled shakily, wanting her watch to stop working so that the hour would never get
over ; so that they could always be like this, inside each other, as they were meant to
be.....*

*They lay there like that for some time, neither saying anything or doing anything ; both of
them comfortable just to be in each others' presence. They simply looked at each other, neither
knowing how much time had passed, one of them occasionally breaking the silence by giving their
lover a soft, tender kiss or a few words of affection...*

*Harry finally broke the silence. 'Do you believe in soul-mates, Hermione?'*

*Hermione looked at him for a minute before giving her reply, 'I don't suppose
I've ever thought about it. What about you?'*

*'To be frank, no,' Harry replied, before hurrying on so he could explain. 'I
don't think soul-mates exist, even in the magical world. I think you meet someone, fall in love
and then spend the rest of your life with them. And then, there's a time in your life when you
just... **know**... you know? You just know that that person is yours for eternity and
vice-versa...'*

*Hermione smiled briefly, the fact that Harry, who was normally dense when it came to girls,
suddenly became philosophical and poetical with her warmed her heart to no extent.*

*'I have a feeling we could have been perilously close to being soul-mates,' Harry
finished, and Hermione's smile faltered slightly.*

*'Why are you saying this?' Hermione asked, knowing the answer, yet not wanting to
hear it.*

*'Just a thought, that's all,' Harry finished with a smile, though it didn't
reach his eyes.*

*Hermione then pressed her lips up against his mouth, her tongue delving in and slowly
caressing his.*

*'Move in me, Harry,' Hermione moaned into his mouth as she pressed herself into him,
needing to feel all of him inside her.*

*Harry did as she asked. He turned them over so he was on top again and he rubbed her forehead
softly, wiping away the sheen of sweat that had accumulated there. Giving her a soft kiss, he
slowly started to increase his pace, never taking his eyes off her as he did so.*

*Kissing her frantically as he pumped in and out of her, she wrapped her legs around his waist
as they both started panting loudly, both of them approaching their climax.*

*Fully spent, Harry flipped them over so he could hug Hermione properly and she buried her
face in his neck.*

*Harry breathed in deeply, the alluring scent of Hermione's hair invading his nostrils and
he wrapped his arms around her tightly. From whatever few teenage discussions he had participated
in, he knew that sex was supposed to be mind-blowing but now he knew differently. When it was with
someone you cared about more than any other, when it was with someone you loved, it was
**magical**.*

*He knew without doubt that this was the best moment in his life, something he would carry
with him to his grave and he swore to himself in that moment that no matter what the future held
for him, no matter what happened with him and his future spouse, he would remember this as the best
thing that had ever happened to him ; the most magical thing that could have possibly
occurred.*

*Little did he know that Hermione was also swearing the same thing to herself as a soft chime
alerted her to reality, rendering her numb with disbelief.*

*'No,' Hermione whispered, and her voice sounded terrified.*

*'Hermione, Hermione, what's wrong?' Harry asked, his eyes widening, hoping
against hope that she had enjoyed this as much as he had.*

*Hermione looked at him lovingly, yet dejectedly, and that simple gaze she gave him told Harry
everything he needed to know. He knew then, at that precise moment, that he had lost something
truly precious forever.*







AN - I can understand that not many of you will appreciate this chapter for two reasons : 1.
Hermione and Harry won't be so noble (stupid) as to sacrifice their love to make other people
happy. 2. The drama with the Weasleys is over the top and not a reason for them not to get
together, especially as Hermione is a strong-willed, independent woman.

However, I've tried keeping their characters as close to DH as possible, while giving it my
own twist. Keeping their characters DH-compliant is nothing but portraying the normally strong
Hermione Jane Granger as a weak, crying Hermione Jean Granger. It also means portraying Harry as a
person who cares much more about what the Weasleys and Ron think, even when Hermione has done so
much more for him. (which is why they don't get together because they don't want to hurt
the Weasleys, Ron and the fan gi - er - Ginny)

I hope this answers any questions you might have and that I haven't lost any readers because
of this chapter...

I've tried my best to make the second half of the chapter not hot and steamy, but more
sensual and intimate with a borderline of angst. So please tell me what you thought of my attempt
at this in a review!!









8. The Problems of a Weasley and a Dentist
------------------------------------------





Chapter 8 - The Problems of a Weasley and a Dentist






*Harry breathed in deeply, the alluring scent of Hermione's hair invading his nostrils and
he wrapped his arms around her tightly. From whatever few teenage discussions he had participated
in, he knew that sex was supposed to be mind-blowing but now he knew differently. When it was with
someone you cared about more than any other, when it was with someone you loved, it was
**magical**.*

*He knew without doubt that this was the best moment in his life, something he would carry
with him to his grave and he swore to himself in that moment that no matter what the future held
for him, no matter what happened with him and his future spouse, he would remember this as the best
thing that had ever happened to him ; the most magical thing that could have possibly
occurred.*

*Little did he know that Hermione was also swearing the same thing to herself as a soft chime
alerted her to reality, rendering her numb with disbelief.*

*'No,' Hermione whispered, and her voice sounded terrified.*

*'Hermione, Hermione, what's wrong?' Harry asked, his eyes widening, hoping
against hope that she had enjoyed this as much as he had.*

*Hermione looked at him lovingly, yet dejectedly, and that simple gaze she gave him told Harry
everything he needed to know. He knew then, at that precise moment, that he had lost something
truly precious forever.*





Harry cried as and cried as he remembered that beautiful, yet terrible night, the night
everything had changed for both of them.

There would be no such angst this time, he would see to that ; it would be him and Hermione from
the beginning, as it always should have been...

He rolled over in his sleep, thinking about his last day at Hogwarts and his impending return to
the Dursley's. After all the horrors he had been through, even the thought of them didn't
fill him with dread anymore, but yet, he was not in favour of going back and residing in Privet
Drive.

Ideally, he wished he could have spent some time with Hermione over the summer ; he never had in
his previous life. Whatever time he got with Hermione was shared with the presence of the Weasleys,
except the times when Ron had faithfully abandoned him....

His situation with Hermione notwithstanding, he had a lot of things to do in the summer, a lot
of things to change. He had to have his Trace removed, or at the least get an untraceable wand. How
he was going to do that, he had no idea. Perhaps Dobby could help..

He also wanted to destroy the diadem as soon as possible, preferably before he left Hogwarts,
although he had no idea what kind of protective enchantments and traps lay on it. The last time
around, he had never actively sought it due to the Slytherin trio's untimely appearance. By the
time it actually fell into his hands, its magic was already destroyed due to the Fiendfyre.

Harry sighed loudly as he turned over, he had been given the gift of time, and he still
didn't know what to do, or when to do it. There was one thing he definitely wanted to do, but
the only limitation to his gift prevented him from doing it.

Killing.

Murder.

There were so many people who didn't need their life, so many people who strictly speaking,
weren't required to breathe or live or talk.....

Starting with Umbridge and Lucius Malfoy and extending to every corrupted bigot in the
Ministry's ranks.

All the prisoners in Azkaban should have been gassed instead of leaving them in an insecure
place where they could easily escape whenever they wanted to...

Not to mention every single stinking Slytherin.

No, not every Slytherin was a Death Eater... Harry thought grimly. Severus Snape had assured him
of that.

But all the same, ninety nine percent of those idiots were taught to fantasize about licking
Voldemort's half-blood scaley arse.

That house certainly required a good bout of killing, and yet Harry could do nothing about
it.

Today was already the thirtieth ; Sirius would be escaping in three weeks or so. Joy swept
through him as he lay in bed, eagerly anticipating when that time would come and when he would see
his beloved godfather again, someone he hadn't seen for two years...

For a mad moment, he pondered sending a letter to Azkaban and letting Sirius know he wasn't
alone, informing Sirius that his godson was waiting for him with open arms.., but Harry dispelled
that thought reluctantly. It was too risky and all he had to do was be patient ; just a short
wait.

Drowning out the loud snores of his roommates, he finally fell into an uneasy slumber, planning
to sleep in late the next morning.

Unfortunately, he was roused much earlier than he would have liked, when a slightly miffed red
head forced him to do so.

'Harry! HARRY!' a voice shouted, shaking him roughly, 'Wake up, get out of bed for
crying out loud!'

'Ergh - gerroff,' Harry mumbled, as he stuffed his pillow into his eyes, wanting no
light to hit him at all. He rolled towards the small desk beside his bed and reached for his
glasses.

'Why are you so tired?' Ron asked, looking at him curiously.

'Huh? Oh, couldn't sleep well last night. Have you guys had breakfast yet?' Harry
yawned, changing behind the curtains he had just drawn shut, wondering since when had Ron started
waking up so early.

'Nope, we were waiting for you. Hermione was already awake when me and Ginny reached the
common room. I really hope she wasn't studying, seeing as how we don't have exams.'

'How do you know we don't have exams?' Harry asked.

'Well, it's pretty obvious isn't it? We were supposed to be leaving next week, and
our exams were supposed to be from today ; but instead, we're all leaving tomorrow,' Ron
reasoned.

'Hmm,' Harry shrugged, yanking the velvet curtains open and walking past Ron, a
momentary stab of anger against Ron Weasley flashing through him ; for the terrible recollection he
had of his time in the tent and its aftermath, not to mention being woken up rudely at seven in the
morning.

'Come on, the girls are waiting in the Great hall,' Ron said, as they exited the
dormitories.

Harry followed him, trying to recall when the trio of him, Hermione and Ron had expanded to
include Ginny as well.

'Harry!' Hermione squealed as she saw Harry and Ron make their way over to them. She got
up and brought him into a typical Hermione Granger tight, crushing hug that Harry always loved. It
was different from the overbearing, smothering type of affection provided by Mrs. Weasley. He
rested in her arms for a moment, taking a moment to inhale softly and smell the fresh vanilla scent
of her bushy brown hair.

A subtle cough brought them out of their embrace and Hermione sat down, blushing.

She chanced a quick glance at Ginny and was nervous to find a disgruntled look on the younger
girl's face. Ron himself was looking no better, even glaring at Harry before he looked away to
check out the day's breakfast menu.

Harry also didn't miss the antagonising looks given by the two Weasleys. What surprised him
was the look on Ginny's face. He frowned to himself as he remembered her behaviour the previous
time. The first time she was genuinely happy to be alive and harbored no negative feelings against
anyone at all. Yet here she was frowning at Hermione and there definitely was a certain tension in
the air as the four silently started their breakfast.

Harry didn't forget the previous evening's events either when Ginny came close to
blowing up over his behaviour to Hermione in the Hospital Wing. He laughed bitterly to himself. All
of twelve years of age, just had her butt saved, and she was playing the part of a jealous
girlfriend perfectly.

*Not this time,* Harry thought to himself resolutely as he finished the last piece of
toast, *This time I'm gonna be a friend to Ginny but I'm going to stick it in her head
that I only see her as a baby sister, I'm going to be a good friend or at least as well as I
can to Ron, but now he's my* *good* *friend ; Hermione's going to be my*
*best* *friend. Unlike last time...*

'Harry, what are your plans for the summer?' Hermione asked suddenly.

'Um...I'm going back to my aunt and uncle's?' Harry said slowly, wondering why
Hermione was asking him that.

'Oh, um...' Hermione looked quite flustered, and she wasn't helped by the unpleasant
look that Ginny was giving her.

'Why, what's up?' Harry asked.

'Um... I was just wondering if you would like to spend the summer at my house?' Hermione
asked quickly, pretending that Ron and Ginny didn't exist for that moment.

'What?' Harry asked in shock. That was what he was desperately wishing for, to get away
from everyone and get to know the woman he loved in her natural environment, something he had never
done in his previous life.

Hermione mistook his words and subsequent silence as disgust and utter rejection of her offer.
Ginny's disgusted face cleared into a wide smirk.

Managing to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes, she said softly, 'It was just a
suggestion, Harry. I didn't mean anything by it.' *Harry wants Ginny, he wants to go to
the Burrow again, he doesn't want to be with me at all, he doesn't-*

'I would love to stay at your place, Hermione,' Harry said sincerely and urgently,
nearly tearing up at the way Hermione's eyes became suspiciously bright at his insensitive
first reaction. He felt like hitting himself for his stupidity. He had promised himself that anyone
who made Hermione cry would pay through the nose, and yet he had gone and done it himself.

'Really?' Hermione asked with rising hope in her voice, trying her best not to sniff too
loudly, especially in the presence of the other two.

'Yeah, I would love to Hermione, but I don't see how I could do that,' Harry started
off, but Hermione interrupted him.

'I've already cleared it up with Professor Dumbledore and he said that you'll have
to stay at your aunt and uncle's for a week, then if you wanted, you could...' Hermione
finished uncertainly.

'Come over to your place,' Harry finished for her, 'that would be great,
Hermione!'

'You seemed to have planned this to perfection,' Ginny interrupted them, her voice and
expression were pleasant, but yet it was obvious that she was unhappy at the latest turn in their
conversation.

'Well, seeing as *Ron and I* are Harry's best friends, and that Harry stayed at the
Burrow last summer, I wanted him to spend this one with me,' Hermione retorted just as
pleasantly.

'What about your parents, will they be okay with this?' Harry asked.

'Harry, you're not an escaped convict, I think they'll be okay with me bringing a
friend home for the summer,' Hermione said, giving him a soft smile, which Harry returned.

Nothing was said further as the quartet silently finished their breakfast and headed out of the
Great Hall.





***





Elsewhere in a posh five bedroom villa in Oxford, two dentists were just waking up, ready to
start the day and have their usual morning breakfast of bread, omlettes and juice.

'Ohh, I don't see why we have to wake up so early,' Thomas Granger yawned loudly,
trying to coax the warmth that was his wife back into bed.

'Oh, honestly, Tom, you are incorrigible, it's eight in the morning and you're in
the mood for *that?!'* Jane asked increduously.

'I don't remember any rules in the guidebook for the appropriate times to have sex,
honey,' Thomas replied groggily, squinting his eyes when his wife pushed the curtains open.

'The guidebook?' Jane asked suspiciously, 'What guidebook?'

'Er - um nothing,' Thomas quickly replied. 'And it's not my fault that my
beautiful wife is so sexy that I want to ravage her the whole day. So, you see, it's really
your fault that I'm horny at eight in the morning.'

Jane raised her eyebrows suspiciously. 'Sweet talker,' she grumbled.

'Did it work though?' Thomas asked, looking at his wife's naked form greedily.

All Jane did in response was shoot her husband a lecherous smile and yank the curtains shut.

'I knew you would come down to my way of thinking,' Thomas muttered, before they fell on
top of the bed, kissing each other deeply and passionately.

'What can I say?' Jane replied, 'You can be *very.....*persuasive.'

'I can be many other things,' he replied, 'Want to see?'

'Mmmm- I can't-'

PECK! PECK PECK PECK! PECK PECK!

Thomas groaned loudly as his wife rolled off him.

'Bloody birds,' he snarled.

'Hush, Tom, it's probably from our darling Poppet,' Jane replied as she opened the
window to let the bird in.

'You know she hates it when you call her that. She liked it till last year,' Thomas
said.

'I know, so I use it when she's not around, because she'll always be my little
Poppet,' Jane replied fondly, as she watched the bird walk around on the windowsill.

'What does it say? Is she alright?' Thomas asked.

'Well, yes, she says she's woken up, as have everyone else, but that's not what she
wrote to us about,' Jane replied.

'What? Why else would she write to us?' Thomas asked, 'She's coming home
tomorrow anyway.'

'Um,' Jane started hesitantly, not knowing how her husband would take the news,
'She's asked us if it's alright if she brings a friend over.'

'What?! Of course it's alright! God knows she's never brought a friend over,
it's great news that-'

'She wants to bring a boy over, Thomas,' Jane interrupted succinctly.

'She has a boyfriend?! I thought she was in a coma all this time, you said-'

'Thomas, I said a boy friend not a boyfriend, which means it's someone who's her
friend and he just happens to be a boy,' Jane interrupted again.

'Same difference,' Thomas grumbled.

'Take it easy, Tom, it's the same boy we've heard about for two years now. Her best
friend, the one who saved her from that troll, Harry Potter.'

'That only makes it worse,' Thomas muttered.

'What?!' Jane exclaimed, 'How does being her friend and looking out for her and
saving her life make it worse??'

'He'll probably think he's entitled to something from her just because he's
helped her out,' Thomas said staunchly, refusing to back off.

'Jesus,' Jane rolled her eyes.

'You don't agree with me?' Thomas asked.

'No,' Jane replied.

'What? Why not? I told you that Hermione-'

'We've heard all about Harry Potter from our daughter, Thomas. Every letter she's
sent home has mentioned him in some way or the other and I must say, at least from Hermione's
letters, I think I've managed to grasp that Harry's become a fine young man,' Jane
said, looking her husband straight in the eye.

'Oh no, not you too,' Thomas groaned, running his hands through his hair
exasperatedly.

'Hear me out,' Jane said firmly.

Thomas frowned at her but wordlessly gestured for her to continue.

'Hermione comes back tomorrow evening. You are not to say anything to her about Harry's
arrival and you are not to express any of your opinions on her having a boy over to stay for the
summer. Is that clear?' Jane asked sternly.

'Not crystal clear,' Thomas replied.

'Give him a chance Tom. I'm sure you will like him. And even if you don't,
you'll have to get used to having him around.'

'What do you mean by that?' Thomas asked.

'I mean that there is a healthy chance that our Hermione will fall in love with the man and
decide to keep him around forever,' Jane replied frankly.

'No! No... No! My precious thirteen year old baby, married! Don't even think about
continuing, I've had enough shocks for a day,' Dan replied, his voice coming muffled as he
brought the pillows around his head in shock.

'She's almost fourteen now, Thomas, and she's not a baby anymore, she's a young
lady who will soon start to seek out guys that attract her, if she hasn't started so
already,' Jane said, watching her husband in amusement.

'Mmm, if you say so, honey...' Thomas said, his pillow encasing his head firmly.

'So, I'm sending my reply now,' Jane said, reaching over for some parchment.

'You're denying her request?' Thomas said hopefully, removing the pillow and looking
at his wife.

Jane rolled her eyes and penned down a quick reply and sent the owl off on its way.

'All right, I guess he can come over and stay but I'm pulling up a list of ground rules
for Hermione and him,' Thomas said.

'And do you think Hermione will accept any such 'ground rules' that you lay out for
her? You know she's as stubborn as I am when she wants to be.'

Thomas watched the bird soar off into the distance as he carefully framed his reply. 'Well,
we'll talk about this later, possibly after Hermione comes home. But one thing for sure is, if
Harry even steps into her bedroom, I'll do to him what that Voldemort bloke failed to
do.'

'Of course you will, honey,' Jane replied sweetly, clearly humouring her husband.

'Now that we're done with that, why don't we get back to... you know...' Thomas
said, giving his wife what he obviously thought was a lusty look.

'Sorry, honey, I'm really hungry, I'm gonna go down for some breakfast,' Jane
replied, putting on a robe.

She gave him a quick kiss and headed downstairs.

Thomas Granger groaned loudly ; nothing was going right for him today...





***





AN - Less than a week, and I've actually updated! The sun's gonna rise in the west
tomorrow...

A poor dig at my own habit of slow updates. :(

Anyway, I know the length of this chapter is much less as compared to the previous chapters, but
I just felt this was the proper place to end it. Just for future reference, each chapter in this
story will have a minimum length of 3000-3500 words (no matter where I feel I should end it) and a
maximum of around 5000-5500 words. Hope that's okay with all of you.

And I'm also going to avoid the stereotype of Dan and Emma Granger. Although I've seen
much, much better stories than mine which feature Dan and Emma Granger, I'm not going to do
that because I ship Harry/Hermione, not Dan Radcliffe/Emma Watson. (I actually ship myself/Emma
Watson... Yup, I'm delusional...)

So I've ended up using a traditional Christian name for Hermione's dad and
Hermione's middle name for her mother.

The next chapter will (hopefully!) wind up the second year and mark the beginning of Harry's
summer.

Please review!! Thanks to those who have.







9. Flirting and Fighting on the Express
---------------------------------------





Chapter 9 - Flirting and Fighting on the Express





Harry was the only silent one as the four of them walked on the castle grounds.

*'Why is Ginny accompanying us, why isn't she somewhere else with her own
friends?'* he thought to himself, taking a quick look at the red-head's face and then
quickly turning away, not wanting her to catch him looking.

She seemed to be displaying her old personality a bit too early this time ; she seemed very
outgoing, bold, and confident to the point of arrogant.

And Ron too. Harry had been observing his friend's behaviour for some time now and he
hadn't missed the quick glares or the other displays of jealousy directed toward him.
Especially when he was talking to Hermione.

Harry wondered how different other people would be in this new timeline, especially the people
close to him. Were they all fundamentally different from the people he had known the past seven
years?

It started with Lucius, who seemed to be more aggressive towards his slave and actually
assaulted him, something he hadn't done before. Then Ron and Ginny, whose changes he didn't
like at all, and he dreaded what those changes would bring about in the long run.

Then, Hermione herself. She had actually taken the trouble of going to the Headmaster and
writing to her parents to bring him to her house for the summer. That was something he certainly
hadn't expected. And then he had noticed her reaction when he mentioned Ginny. In his old life,
she had never actively disapproved of the girls Harry went out with, but what Harry had seen now
was different. He didn't know whether this made him a wretched person, but he had secretly
enjoyed Hermione's jealousy.

Nevertheless, he was going to spend the summer at Hermione's house. Things were looking
bright for Hermione and him.

Hermione and him.

Hermione and Harry.

He smiled to himself at the thought.

Even in his head, the words sounded so good, so *pleasant.*

'Whatchya smiling for, Harry?' Ron asked, looking at his friend in curiosity.

'Oh, um, nothing,' Harry immediately replied, quickly rearranging his features.

But even as he did so, he couldn't help but shoot a quick smile at Hermione, who was
pleasantly surprised by this. She felt something warm bubbling in her chest.



***



The noisy chattering and the usual chaos among the students was brought to an immediate halt as
the sound of Professor McGonagall striking her glass with her silverware brought their attention to
the staff table.

Professor Dumbledore stood up. Spreading his arms wide as if welcoming the whole school in a
hearty embrace, he surveyed all of his students with a fond smile playing on his face and a
familiar twinkle in his eyes.

'The end of another year!' he exclaimed loudly.

Harry grinned broadly ; it had been a long time since this had happened.

'I have no doubt you'll be eager to be rid of an old man's ramblings so that you can
savour your delicious meal but first I have a few annoucements to make. First of all, words cannot
express my gratitude on seeing every petrified victim alive and awake and eating in this Great
Hall!'

All the students cheered at this, with the notable exceptions being the majority of the
Slytherins, who seemed to look uncaring and some even downcast at this announcement.

'On that note, I would like to thank Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey for their excellent
work and co-operation in making all this happen. '

Both the women blushed as Dumbledore inclined his glass in their direction and after setting it
back down on the table, he clapped his hands loudly to quieten down the cheering students.

'That's all I have to say. Please enjoy the rest of your meal,' he finished.

The students had barely begun to quiet down when Dumbledore stood up and said, 'I almost
forgot. All exams have been cancelled and the Hogwarts Express will leave tomorrow at eleven a.m.
sharp.'

Needless to say, the roars and cries of delight of the students didn't cease for a long
time.



***



Harry was simply stunned as he walked to the school gates to enter the carriages that would take
everyone to Hogsmeade station. Hermione and he were walking together and they had somehow lost
sight of Ron on the way. What scared him out of his mind yet thrilled him to bits was that Hermione
was flirting with him! Hermione... and flirting! He had never associated those two words in the
same sentence but now he found himself corrected.

He had started it off with a desire to just pull Hermione's strings and see that pretty
little blush of hers. So he had innocently asked her, 'So Hermione Granger's decided to
have a handsome young man entertain her during her vacation?'

Initially her face ripened like a tomato, but then she recovered well and replied, 'Well I
have to have someone over. Two full months and no boys around, my bed is bound to get a bit cold
and lonely.'

Harry nearly choked out, not expecting his shy Hermione to be so forward. Hermione giggled
softly and the sound was better than anything he had ever heard in his life.

'Hmm, so how many guys have had the honour of keeping your bed from going cold?' Harry
asked, a trademark Potter grin playing on his face. There was no way Hermione could reply to
that.

'Well, after the first few, rumour spread around that I was too much for any guy to handle,
if you know what I mean,' Hermione replied, a wicked look in her eyes.

Harry's eyes widened before he looked away from Hermione, blushing furiously.

'So I kind of stopped having guys over after that and that's why I invited you home.
Hopefully you can last the whole night,' Hermione finished.

Harry sputtered for a moment before he hastily recomposed himself and turned to look at
Hermione.

'Cat got your tongue, Mr. Potter?' Hermione asked slyly, knowing that she had won this
round.

'Yes, but I wish it was your tongue that got my tongue,' Harry replied smartly, and he
knew that he had Hermione on the backfoot, at least temporarily.

Hermione looked at him for a moment and then her expression changed into something much more
tender. Before Harry had more time to decipher that look and respond accordingly, she had looked
away.

Harry chuckled for a moment. He was, in all essence, a seventeen year old, and he had been
out-flirted by a fourteen year old.

'What?' Hermione asked curiously.

'N-Nothing,' Harry said, 'I just never thought you would flirt.'

'Why, am I abnormal?' Hermione asked softly, yet there was a dangerous undertone in her
voice.

'No, no, nothing like that. It just goes to show how much of you I've missed all these
years,' Harry said.

'All these years?' Hermione asked, 'You've only known me for two years.'

Harry flinched. He didn't mean to let that slip.

'That's what I meant. These last two years,' Harry replied.

Hermione gave him a suspicious look but chose to say nothing.

Simultaneously, for some reason, they chose to look at each other, reading every emotion in each
others' eyes. Harry didn't know where he and Hermione stood in regards to their
relationship, but he decided then that he liked looking in Hermione's chocolate-brown eyes like
this. However, they were shaken out of their reverie by a loud voice calling out to them.

'Harry! Hermione!' Ron came running up to them. 'Why didn't you wait
up?'

Neither of them replied, both of them lost in the memories of their brief flirting encounter and
the 'moment' they just shared.

'Hey guys! GUYS!' Ron shouted this time, 'what's wrong with you both?!'

Again, Harry and Hermione chose not to respond but instead Hermione voiced a question back at
him.

'So you managed to finish your packing then Ronald?'

'Huh? Oh yeah, I cut down my breakfast time to twenty minutes and then threw the rest of my
stuff in,' he said, now leading them to the gates along with the other students.

Hermione made a faint sound of disgust in the back of her throat.

After the carriages took them to their destination, ( during which Harry could clearly see the
Thestrals ) the three of them quickly boarded the train and found an empty compartment at the
rear.

Harry quickly put his luggage in the rack above their heads, before seeing that Hermione was
having trouble with hers.

Ron was already looking out the window and when he looked back in their compartment, he too saw
Hermione having trouble with her luggage.

He made to get up and help her, hoping to win her favour by doing so, but Harry beat him to
it.

Quick as a flash, Harry reached over and gently pulled Hermione's suitcase from her hands
and said, 'Let me take care of it.'

Ron glared at Harry for a moment, before he took his seat and continued staring out the
window.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry, although she was secretly pleased with his actions.

'Thank you Harry,' she said softly, before taking a seat opposite Ron.

'N-No problem Hermione,' Harry replied, flushed with his success, no matter how small it
was.

Harry wondered if he should take a seat beside Ron or Hermione, but at that moment the
compartment door opened again and it revealed Ginny who took in the situation in their cabin and
promptly sat down beside Hermione.

Not wanting to sit by Ginny in the fear that it would give her hope, he took a seat beside
Ron.

For a moment, there was an uncomfortable silence in the compartment, something that had seemed
to be happening very often in the recent days. The train had just started picking up speed, passing
Hogsmeade and going through the wilderness.

The silence in Harry's compartment was broken by the sound of the door opening. This time it
revealed the pale, blond figure of Draco Malfoy and his cronies.

'Well, well, well, hero Potter saves the day again,' he sneered, looking at Harry and
then Hermione with disgust on his face.

'What do you want, Malfoy?' Harry spoke in an exhausted voice, the old Harry rising in
him again at the sight of their irritating Slytherin classmate.

Ron and Hermione gaped at Harry, both of them expecting the usual, angry outburst that was
common for the trio at the sight of their hated Slytherin classmate.

Even Malfoy looked surprised for a fraction of a second, before he sneered at Harry again.

'You're pretty stupid aren't you Potter? You save the little useless Weaslette and a
bunch of other Mudbloods, but you couldn't save your own parents. Of course, your mother was a
stinking Mud - AHHHH!' he ended off with a scream as he was hoisted into the air upside down,
the blood flowing to his brain now.

Harry, who had just cast a non-verbal Levicorpus, snuck his wand back into his robes with
satisfaction.

'Put me down, Potter!' Malfoy screamed, as Crabbe and Goyle looked on stupidly behind
him.

'I don't even have my wand and I didn't even say anything, Draco,' Harry said
pleasantly, and his use of Malfoy's first name brought even more confusion to the two Weasleys
and Hermione.

Ron and Ginny seemed just as bewildered as Crabbe and Goyle were, not knowing how Malfoy was
expelled so violently. Hermione, however, cast a suspicious look at Harry before turning to look at
the spectacle that was going on in their compartment.

'Hey br - HOLY MOTHER OF MERLIN!' the door had opened again, and this time it was a
stunned pair of Weasley twins looking at Malfoy twisting and screaming in the air.

'I said get me down, Potter!!' Malfoy shouted again, and he lunged for Harry in the air,
with the unpleasant effect that the spell he was under tore him away from Harry and his head banged
against the wall with an unpleasant 'thud'.

'Sorry, Drakie poo. As you said, I can save only Muggleborns and half-bloods. I don't
think I'll be able to help inbreds.'

'WHAT?!' Malfoy roared, and Harry's barb on his precious bloodline angered him more
than his condition.

'Oh, nothing. Inbred is just a word for people who marry their cousins or blood
relatives,' Harry said nonchalantly, and Ron, Fred and George were sniggering now.

'I'm not inbred, you filthy half-blood, I'm a scion of one of the oldest pure blood
familes! Now get me down!!' he screeched.

'Of course, Mr. Draco Malfoy sir, I'm not denying that you're a pure blood. Your
dear little dad knocked up his cousin sister, hereby keeping the blood pure,' Harry smiled, and
now all the Weasleys and Hermione were staring at Harry in shock, wondering when he had gotten so
mature, confident and punishing.

Crabbe and Goyle raised their wands at long last, but they were immediately thrown out of the
compartment with purple boils erupting all over their faces, courtesy Fred and George Weasley.

'Your dad is pretty good at claiming he was under the Imperius, maybe your fat mum claimed
to be under it when she was banging her own relative,' Harry said, getting up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron and Ginny look at him in awe while Hermione was
frowning slightly. He knew there was something radiating off of him, some unexplainable demon-like
power and it affected everyone in the compartment. Fred and George also had a half-wary,
half-fearful look on their faces as Harry advanced forward.

Malfoy, whose eyes had initially turned feral when he heard Harry mentioning his mother, cringed
back in fear as Harry advanced towards him, a mysterious, powerful green aura surrounding him.

Harry silently cast the counter curse and Malfoy fell unceremoniously to the ground.

Harry bent down and whispered something in Malfoy's ear, his face showing a calm, icy hatred
that brought chills up Hermione's spine. The look of vengeance on Harry's face and the
darkness emanating from him as he taunted Malfoy didn't endear him to her at all, in fact in
that moment she despised both Malfoy and Harry for what they were doing.

A malicious hiss sounded out from where Harry was silently conversing with Malfoy ; none of the
Weasleys nor Hermione could hear anything being said, but they saw Malfoy's face turning a
pasty-white and they were suddenly glad that they couldn't hear.

'Leave,' Harry snarled, his voice now audible to everyone in the compartment, 'and
take your slime with you.'

The three left without a word and all the occupants remaining stared at Harry in awe and
fear.

As Harry turned back to them, something seemed to lift from his face, some kind of sibilant,
venomous shadow and its removal immediately seemed to brighten the compartment. Hermione looked at
him silently, wondering how she could have despised him even for a moment.

The mood being cheerful once more, Harry sat down and Fred and George took seats beside him.

'Harry...' Fred began.

'That was amazing,' George continued.

'When can you teach us-'

'How to do that?'

'Um,' Harry started nervously, 'there isn't a spell actually-'

'Ah, the wandless kind-'

'Our favourite.'

'Your eyes became a dark green and some mysterious thing was rolling off of you in waves.
You looked pretty freaky for a moment,' Fred explained.

'Pretty scary actually,' George finished.

'Ah, when 900 years old you will become, look as good you will not,' Harry said
wisely.

All four Weasleys looked back at him blankly while Hermione snorted loudly.

'I can't believe I'm gonna seduce and shag a green bodied Jedi Master,' Hermione
stated, idly turning a page of the book she had just taken out.

Harry blushed a deep red as he looked at Hermione. She was certainly being forward with him and
this thrilled him. Thankfully, none of the Weasleys noticed his reaction as they were too busy
staring at Hermione, a perfect mix of shock and cluelessness etched onto their faces.

'What?!' Ron cried, his eyebrows reaching his hairline.

'What? Oh, um, nothing, it's just something in the book I'm reading,' Hermione
said quickly and unconvincingly.

'What book is that?' Ron demanded, moving his hand to wrench the book from
Hermione's hands, but Hermione was too quick for him. Moving away from his reach, she got up
and tossed the book into one of her bags and sat down again.

'Oookay,' George said uncertainly.

'We're going to go down to the other end where Lee Jordan is flirting with a
tarantula-'

'In the meanwhile, if a green-bodied Jehdie Master wanders in here-'

'Please send for us ASAP-'

'Thank you ladies and gentlemen-'

'Over and out.'

With that, they left the compartment leaving four people shaking with silent laughter.



***



At last, they reached Platform Nine and Three Quarters just as the sun was setting and everyone
got out of the train, dragging their luggage along behind them.

'So, when are you coming over to the Burrow, mate?' Ron asked expectantly.

'Umm - Ron, I'm going to Hermione's place for the summer,' Harry replied.

'I know, but, when you leave, you're coming over right?' Ginny asked, flashing
Hermione a quick glare.

'Ginny, I think when Harry leaves my house, he'll be going back to Hogwarts,'
Hermione said coolly to Ginny, daring her to say something back.

'What? Why-'

'HEY! Move on!' a furious sixth year pushed his way past them, all his friends shoving
them as well.

Luckily for Harry, the topic of his summer arrangements died a natural death as they stepped off
the train.

'Harry, before you go back to your aunt and uncles', I want you to meet my parents,'
Hermione said, dragging him away from a furious Ginny.

They waved bye to Ron and winked at Fred and George who were some distance off and then they
made their way to Hermione's parents, who were waiting expectantly near a bench.

'Mum! Daddy!!' Hermione squealed, as she shared a tight hug with both her parents,
Thomas' arms going around both the women.

They stayed like that for a moment before Hermione's mum pulled away and looked fondly at
Hermione before exclaiming, 'You've grown up so much Poppet!'

'MUM!!' Hermione shrieked, blushing furiously, 'don't call me that!'

Harry, who up till then was nervous at the prospect of being formally introduced to
Hermione's parents, merely raised his eyebrows. In the seven years he knew Hermione, he had not
once heard her being called 'Poppet'.

'Hmmm. So this is the boy Hermione has been talking about,' Jane commented, turning to
Harry at last and regarding him with a somewhat serious look.

'I, um, err -' Harry was now tongue-tied.

'Lighten up sweetie,' Jane spoke, her face breaking into a wide smile, 'I'm
Jane, Hermione's mother and I'm not going to eat you. I'm going to look forward to
knowing you when you come over.'

'Me too,' Harry responded sincerely.

'Please don't be nervous on any counts with us. We know you're Hermione's best
friend and we hope both of you have an excellent summer this year, okay?'

Harry nodded, feeling much better, although Hermione's father hadn't spoken yet.

'And this is my husband, Thomas,' Jane continued, gesturing to Hermione's dad, and
Harry reached forward to shake his hand.

'I'd like to know what your intentions are towards my daugh-'

'Thomas!' 'Daddy!' two shouts of protest came from the two Granger women at the
same time.

'Sorry,' Thomas drawled, not looking sorry at all, 'Time for that later,
Harry'

'Have your aunt and uncle arrived yet Harry?' Hermione asked, looking around the
emptying platform for any signs of Harry's relatives.

'Yeah, they're actually some distance off, behind you,' Harry said and sure enough,
there they were, glowering furiously in Harry's direction, wondering what on earth he was doing
talking to some girl.

'Well, Hermione will send you an owl or ring you when she's ready to pick you up, okay
Harry?' Jane asked.

'That's great. Thank you, Mrs. Granger,' Harry said.

'Not a problem, dear,' Jane replied, 'we'll be off then.'

'Bye, Mr. Granger,' Harry said.

'Be seeing you Harry,' Thomas said, and Harry could see that the older man was impressed
with his manners and was probably beginning to warm up to him, slightly. He even gave Harry a
genuine smile and shook his hands again. Harry's spirits rose at that.

'Bye, Harry,' Hermione cooed, and she threw her arms around him, gripping him in a tight
Hermy-hug.

Thomas Granger lost his smile again.





AN - The first eight chapters dealt with a time slot of a day, so I've tried moving things
forward all in one chapter now. But if you guys are looking for a fast-paced thriller that has them
destroying Horcruxes every alternate day, you should look somewhere else. There will be a serious
plot, heavy action and thrillers ( I hope! ) in various sections of the story, but on the whole, I
intend on writing this as carefully and as detailed as possible. So, to sum it up, yes, this story
will move slow.

I've also seen my mistake in reposting the same chapter of 'After the Deathly
Hallows', and I will rectify that ASAP ; a new chapter of that story will hopefully be out
soon.

Please review!! Thanks to all those who have.







10. The Bankers' Lament
-----------------------





Chapter 10 - The Bankers' Lament





Harry was slowly walking away from the Grangers, towards the reluctant presence of his aunt and
uncle, when an idea struck him.

He turned away from his relatives and quickly took out the Hogsmeade slip Professor McGonagall
had given him after the Leaving Feast.

He muttered a quick charm that appeared to change the contents of the document. It was the same
spell that everyone in Hogwarts used in his old fifth year to cover the fact that they were reading
The Quibbler.

His aunt and uncle, who were simply shell shocked on watching him talk with a girl and her
parents, barely noticed what he just did.

Hermione, on the other hand, was walking away with her parents, when she turned around to give
Harry one last wave. As she did so, she caught sight of him with his wand out, hurriedly muttering
something to a piece of paper. Her eyes narrowed. She hadn't made a mention of it, but Harry
seemed different to her in the last few days. She wasn't sure whether it was a good different
or a bad different.

First, it was the signs he was showing her all of a sudden. They were.... encouraging signs, to
say the least. Her heart gave a huge bound as she thought of the way she had flirted with him
earlier. And it wasn't one-sided! He flirted with her too! Something he had never done before,
which brought her back to the question of his change. He seemed much more mature, not to mention
more powerful. The incident in the train with Malfoy certainly confirmed that.

He wasn't like this before she had gotten herself petrified... Something in Harry had
changed in that time. The Harry she had known all this time and the Harry she was getting to know
in the last few days were different, she decided.

*'Maybe he wanted to change himself for me?'* she thought, as she got into the back
seat of the silver Mercedes her parents drove. An unfamiliar bolt of pleasure shot through her at
the thought of that. A boy, willing to change his actions and behaviour, for *her?* A boy she
was pretty sure she fancied nonetheless.

Hermione looked out of the window, beaming at nothing in particular.

After a while, her parents seemed to have caught her expression in the rear view mirror, for
Jane asked, 'Why are you smiling Poppet?'

Hermione, who was initially about to rebuke her mother for the use of that nickname, chose to
answer the question as that nickname was alright with her till Harry arrived. She did not need to
have Harry hear her be called by such an embarassing term.

'Nothing, mum.'

'I suppose you don't have a problem with me calling you Poppet now, do you dear?'
Jane asked with a knowing smile, eager to hear how her daughter was going to respond.

Hermione blushed. She muttered something incomprehensible.

'What was that dear?' Jane asked again, while Thomas shot his wife a clueless look.

'Not in front of my friends,' Hermione muttered, her face pink.

'Really?' Jane asked mockingly, 'I seem to remember that it was in front of only
Harry when I hugged you and called you Poppet.'

'Well, Harry's my friend, mother,' Hermione replied, with the typical defiant,
I-know-everything tone of teenagers.

'Are you sure he's just your friend, Poppet?' Jane asked, shooting her husband a
sideways look.

Hermione rolled her eyes in response.

'Yes, mum,' Hermione intoned, 'for now.' She muttered the last part softly, not
sure whether she wanted her parents to hear that or not.

Thomas' eyes widened and for a second he let go of the brakes, causing them to almost hit a
turning vehicle. He managed to swerve away into the left lane and all three Grangers heaved a huge
sigh of relief.

'Honey, Granger rule number sixteen! No talking about boys when daddy is involved in any
high-risk operation which includes driving, shaving and skiing,' Jane immediately said, shaking
her head.

'Not even a mention of boys,' Thomas muttered unhelpfully as he wiped the sweat from his
brow at the near collision. Or maybe the sweat had accumulated when he heard Hermione mentioning
the possibility of having a boyfriend. He wasn't sure.

Hermione rolled her eyes again.

'You started the topic mother!' she replied. 'And I don't remember any such
rule!'

'Hermione, I think we should have a talk about this over dinner when we get home,' Jane
said.

'What?! What's there to talk about?! Harry's just a fr-'

'I know honey. I have no problem if you suddenly decide you want to start dating. However,
we both love your father and we don't want him to have a coronary, so we'll have to
enlighten him.'

'I really love daddy and all that, but there's no chance of bringing him around when it
comes to this topic. It'll be a futile attempt. Daddy's always going to remain lost when it
comes to me and possible boyfriends,' Hermione said.

'Your father might not be able to admit it but he knows deep inside that you're not his
precious baby girl anymore. He'll come around to our line of thinking at the end,' Jane
persisted, and then with sudden inspiration she added, 'He is not lost yet, there is good in
him. I've felt it. We can turn him back to our side. We have to at least try.'

Thomas, who until then was growing to be even more uncomfortable with the discussion, finally
spoke, 'It is too late for that, so - er - daughter. I MUST obey my master.'

'And who is your master, sweetie?' Jane asked sweetly.

Thomas gulped nervously, knowing he was going to have to give his wife a satisfactory answer.
Knowing that flattery was the best way out, he tried to reply very softly, in the hopes that his
daughter wouldn't hear.

'You are of course, honey. I thought that was obvious. Especially after last ni-'

'MUM! DAD!' Hermione shrieked, clapping both her hands against her ears. She immediately
dunked her head out the window, humming a John Williams tune loudly to dissolve any further
comments from the two.



*



'What's that you've got there boy,' Vernon Dursley asked gruffly.

'It's a permission slip,' Harry answered carefully.

'Permission for what?' Uncle Vernon asked, snatching the paper from Harry's
unresisting hands.

Harry watched as the three Dursleys huddled together over the parchment, each of their
expressions going from disgusted curiosity to undiluted happiness at the idea of Harry leaving
within two weeks.

'Excellent!' Uncle Vernon boomed and right there, on the platform itself, Petunia had
miraculously fished out a pen from seemingly nowhere and given it to Vernon, who snatched it
greedily and signed.

'Is that it boy? Two weeks and these... these... Slug Club people will take you away for
summer studies?' Uncle Vernon asked, a gleeful expression on his beefy face.

'Yes Uncle Vernon,' Harry replied tiredly. He knew that his relatives couldn't
seriously disrupt his life or torment him, but even then it *did* hurt a bit to not find
acceptance from the only blood relatives he had.

'Well, take your trunk boy and let's get going,' said Vernon, before he led them out
of the station.

Harry got into the back seat, squished to a corner as usual by the suffocating presence of his
hefty cousin, Dudley.

After a minute of uncomfortable, tension-filled silence, Dudley chose to break it by giving
Harry the usual taunt and abuse.

'So, did they beat you up right nice at school?' he sneered, looking at Harry as if he
was something disgusting on the bottom of his shoe.

'You really don't have to fill in these silences, Dudley,' Harry replied drily,
looking out the window.

Dudley scowled.

'Is it possible for you to leave by the end of this week boy?' Uncle Vernon growled,
'because we're having a special visitor next week.'

Harry groaned. He had landed up in the summer after his second year, which meant Aunt Marge was
coming to visit again.

'I don't think that's possible, Uncle. You saw what you signed. Today's the
second. I'll be leaving in two weeks.'

'Your Aunt Marge is coming two Fridays from now,' Uncle Vernon declared.

'Which is the day I'm leaving, more's the pity,' Harry muttered, but Uncle
Vernon heard him.

'What's that boy!' he snarled.

'Nothing,' Harry gritted his teeth. He would've wanted to avoid the fat slob who he
had once blown up in retaliation for her comparing his mother to a bitch.

With the majority of the rest of the journey passing in silence, a relieved Harry immediately
went up to his bedroom and shut the door.

'Dobby!' he called.

Dobby appeared almost immediately, bowing low at Harry's feet.

'What can Dobby do for young Mas- Mr. Harry?' Dobby said, looking at Harry with utter
devotion.

'Does it violate any wizarding law if you Apparate me out of here?' Harry asked, a plan
forming in his mind.

'Dobby doesn't think so, sir,' Dobby replied, 'as long as no magic is being
used.'

'Okay, can you take me to Gringotts please?' Harry asked.

'Certainly sir,' Dobby replied.

'Great, let's leave, actually no, hang on,' Harry said. He got a sudden idea. Taking
his Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk, he stuffed it in his robes and turned to Dobby.

'Now let's go,' was all he said and the duo vanished in a flash.

Appearing on the bottom-most step of the elegant staircase leading up to the mighty structure of
Gringotts, Harry took the stairs and just when he reached the magnificent doorway, he turned to see
Dobby crawling behind him.

'Why are you crawling Dobby?' Harry asked, perplexed.

'All elves of the Ancient families are used to doing so, Harry Potter sir. In a public place
like this bank, it must be known that the wizards are the great ones and have nasty elves crouching
at their honourable feet,' Dobby replied, not looking at Harry as he said so.

'Well, you know what? I think that's rubbish,' Harry said in disgust, and now Dobby
finally looked up at him.

'Is it an Azkaban-worthy crime if I fail to comply and have you walk beside me like the
friend that you are?'

Dobby looked up at him in wonder before stuttering, 'N-N-No s-sir, it isn't.'

Harry grinned. 'Come on.'

They opened the doors and cautiously made their way in.

The guards at the entrance saw Harry and Harry wasn't sure if they recognised him, but they
certainly were shocked at seeing an elf walk beside a human. An elf and a human, walking together
like equals! No, the goblins were not used to that.

They attracted a few curious and shocked stares as they made their way to the nearest
teller.

Clearing his throat loudly, Harry attracted the attention of the disinterseted looking goblin,
who was poring over a thick sheaf of papers and muttering under his breath.

'What can I do for you, Mr.? The goblin asked, but then he completed his own inquiry ;
recognising the famous lightning bolt scar that was just barely visible under Harry's long
fringe.

'Potter,' he concluded.

Harry nodded wordlessly and the goblin's attention turned to the elf beside Harry.

The goblins were generally not used to being shocked, as they were wiser and more expecting than
any bigoted wizards would ever believe them to be.

But the goblin's eyebrows went up to his patchy hairline as he took in the elf's
features in wonder.

'What's the matter, Mr. Griphook?' Harry chuckled, 'surely you have seen an elf
in your hallowed halls before?'

At that moment, Griphook came to a decision. It was abrupt by all means, for goblins did not
like change and they did not like making decisions that would possibly bring about change. But
Griphook, even though he was on the lower side of the hierarchy ladder at Gringotts, knew that he
had to bring this man to the attention of the Chief Warlock of the Goblin Nation, Ragnok.

'Mr. Potter, please follow me. We would be most honoured if you would kindly deign to spend
a few moments with our bank director,' he said, in a polite tone, at least as polite as a
goblin could get.

Harry's eyebrows rose ; he wasn't expecting this. All he wanted was some money from his
vault, a small discussion over the inheritance of his Invisibilty Cloak, and then a quick stop at
Diagon Alley to buy a few useful things.

'Uh - sure,' Harry replied uncertainly, his last memory of these halls hitting him hard.
It wasn't a pleasant memory. His hand was burning hot, he was on a dragon trying to escape
after robbing one of the most secure vaults, coming under simultaneous fire from Death Eaters and
Goblins.

He shuddered at that. That was one of the more darker days of his life.

'Please be seated, Mr. Potter,' Griphook said, and he was gone.

'Do you think they have a problem with me bringing you along?' Harry asked Dobby
curiously.

'I'm sorry Master, but I don't know,' Dobby replied sadly.

Griphook came out a full ten minutes later, accompanied by a taller, more menacing goblin who
simply introduced himself as Snagtail.

'Our Chief Warlock, His Excellency Lord Ragnok will see you now,' he hissed, before
opening a set of hidden marble doors.

Harry walked in, Dobby following him. Both of them gasped as they took in the interiors of the
office of the illustrious goblin chief. To say it was plush and luxurious would be an
understatement.

Ragnok carefully scrutinised the newcomers. What Griphook told him seemed preposterous. A rich,
prosperous wizard of the Ancient families walking in with an elf, remembering a junior teller's
name and addressing him as if he was an equal, and praising the very halls of Gringotts, the
heritage of goblins?

'Ah, Mr. Potter, have a seat, if you will,' Ragnok said coolly, not yet sure what to
make of this young man.

Dobby on the other hand, was trembling. He knew he was in the presence of two beings who very
possibly possessed staggering amounts of power : Ragnok, head of the Goblin clan and Harry Potter,
Vanquisher of the Dark Lord.

His Master was a nice Master, unlike his previous one. But he knew he couldn't dare take a
seat in the presence of his Master like this.

Dobby tried making himself as inconsequential as possible, slinking away unglamorously to a
corner of the room, but Harry was having none of it.

'Come on, Dobby. They asked us to sit,' he said, and then he turned back to Ragnok after
taking a last inspection of the glorious room they had just entered.

Ragnok exhaled. Apparently he was holding his breath so he could see for his own eyes how a
powerful, rich wizard would treat someone usually viewed as filth by other wizards.

'It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Ragnok,' Harry started off, not sure if shaking
hands was appropriate.

'The pleasure is all mine, Lord Potter,' he replied briskly.

Harry's eyes widened on being called ''Lord''. 'Please call me
Harry,' he said.

The goblin raised his eyebrows in surprise but he nodded in acceptance.

'Well, let me get straight down to business Harry,' Ragnok continued, 'frankly
speaking, when you came in here with the simple intention of withdrawing an amount from your vault,
we were stunned speechless, something that does not generally happen to goblins.'

'Why is that?'

'Never has such a thing happened before and nor will this be believed if reported.'

Harry didn't say anything but it was obvious that Ragnok had paused to allow his words to
sink into Harry's mind.

'A rich, powerful wizard who is an heir of one of the Most Noble and Ancient families,
walking in with his house elf proudly at his side. And then he identifies a junior goblin in this
bank by name and treats him as an equal, not as a motherless dog as so many others do. And now he
requests to be called by name, dropping any titles of power that he may wield,' Ragnok
finished.

'By other motherless dogs, do you refer to people like the Malfoys?' Harry asked, quite
sure what the answer was.

Ragnok grinned, and Harry saw that it was feral.

'The young scion once demanded that we address him as Lord Draco Malfoy or His Lordship and
that we bow when we speak to him.'

Harry shook his head in disgust and then replied, 'So I presume you proceeded to show him
the meaning of goblin hostility.'

At this, Ragnok lost the menacing, toothy grin he had been displaying.

'No, we had no choice but to comply with his request,' Ragnok replied, bitterness
evident in his tone.

'WHAT?!' Harry roared, 'you did what?!!'

'What do you know of the famous Goblin rebellion of 1612?' Ragnok asked.

'Er...' Harry started off, trying to recollect something he had never learned properly
in the first place. Hermione could have answered this with ease.

'You are starting your third year after this summer, am I correct?' Ragnok asked.

Harry nodded.

'Ah, then you might not have come across history in such depth just yet. Let me enlighten
you. In 1612, after centuries of prejudice and mistreatment at the hands of wizards, the goblins
rose up in revolt against their oppressors. Till then, the Ministry of Magic and the general
contingent of wizards looked upon us with distrust and suspicion and they relegated to us the job
of keeping and managing their gold. We had nothing else to occupy ourselves with and we had nowhere
else to go, so we did as they wanted. Until then however, we could have walked away and made our
own fortunes elsewhere if we so desired.

Yet, many goblins were upset at the inferior treatment meted out to them, despite helping the
wizards by managing all their finances and businesses. The Goblin Petitions of 1596 and 1601
drafted by the then Chief Warlock of our clan proposed better living conditions and opportunities
for goblins, to result in a harmonious world where goblins and wizards could walk side by side. But
it was to no avail and did not appeal to the better sentiments of the Wizengamot and the Ministry.
So, unwillingly, by a twenty seven to twenty four vote on the Royal Goblin Council, we went to
war.

We started off by boycotting all the banks and we then established headquarters and regions of
dominance in many areas of Britain.

Even though goblins have their own techniques and a unique branch of magic that they can truly
call theirs, the wizards overpowered us and our rebellion was crushed. The fact that we
unsuccessfully petitioned to have the right to use wands didn't help our cause either. Brutally
outmatched by the might of the bigoted Ministry and the pureblood-laden Wizengamot, the remains of
the Royal Council were humiliated and forcefully sworn into an oath of subservience to humans for
all time. We were bound magically to look after their finances without any protest rising from
future goblin generations. Our goblin infants were forcefully taken from the mothers and
brainwashed into learning the superiority of wizards and the importance of serving them on bended
knee.

Which is why we are on a timeless oath to the Ministry of Magic and its affiliates. Deep down,
almost every goblin resents this, but we are doomed to their word, doomed to do whatever they
order.'

Harry took in the goblin's recount sadly ; he had grasped some idea of goblin-human
relations and goblin behaviour when he was in Shell Cottage, planning with Griphook.

However, Ragnok wasn't finished.

'Soon after our revolt was squashed, we were all captured and tortured and maimed. Only the
lucky were killed. To enslave us to their purposes, only a few adults and children were left alive.
Our numbers dwindled and the humans marched on, triumphant in their conquest and they enslaved all
other non-humans to their cause. The Ministry of Magic, in 1631, banned all magical beings other
than humans from carrying wands. Soon after, they drafted the Werewolf Code of Conduct to keep the
werewolves in check. By that time, it was a curse to be born as anything other than a wizard or
witch, pureblooded nonetheless.

Even three centuries later, the condition of goblins hasn't changed, save for a few
exceptions, thanks to Albus Dumbledore.'

'Dumbledore?' Harry said, 'what did he do for you?'

'A couple of decades decades ago, as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, he managed to pass a
decree that granted us leave to monitor our own affairs, followed by relaxation of a few of the
existing rules that had been placed on us centuries ago.'

'He didn't try freeing you from the curse of the Ministry?'

'No, I heard of his attempts to do so, but the motion was crushed in the Wizengamot. Too
many people enjoyed our status as slaves and didn't see the point in letting go of such a
golden privilege.'

'The reason why we've summoned you in the first place is because we require a favour of
you.'

'Go on,' Harry said, 'I don't know what I can possibly do to help, but I will
try my best.'

Ragnok nodded approvingly. 'You are as modest as you are unpretentious, Harry. Now I know
the goblins have made the right choice.'

Harry looked away ; he was not used to much praise.

'We wish to heap a title on you ; a status more like, something almost none have received in
the past. We would be honoured if you would call yourself a Friend of the Goblin Nation.'

'I have no problem in being a friend to a great and honourable race such as yours, but what
exactly does it entail? Surely it is not just a name?'

'No it is not Harry. By being a friend of the Goblin Nation, you have the full trust of
goblins and you have an honorary place on the Royal Goblin Council. In the oldern days, such a role
was an extreme honour and guarantee of power, but now sadly it has become a mercy of the wizard
kind. Although it is composed of purely goblins, it has no real function except one.'

'And what is that?' Harry asked.

'You will swear secrecy?' Ragnok asked.

'Yes,' Harry replied without hesitation.

'In long words, we want more rights for goblins and pay tribute to those goblins who were
purged in the aftermath of 1612. We just want freedom and the right to equality. We want the people
who have oppressed us and dominated us for centuries to be brought to trial, under goblin
law.'

'In shorter words, you want to overthrow the Ministry,' Harry gasped.

'No. I told you we just want more freedom, the right to use wands, have the responsible
booked for their crimes against our kind. After that, we would like nothing more than to live in a
peaceful world with all magical races co-existing harmoniously.'

'I agree with your goals and I accept your gracious offer,' Harry said in response.

'Thank you, but I am afraid we must shake to seal your acceptance,' Ragnok said, and a
genuine smile was visible on his distorted face.

Harry did so, and a brief blast of blue light shot out from the goblin's hand hitting Harry
square in the chest. He fell backwards for a second, winded. He then sat back straight to brush
away the apology of Ragnok.

'We will contact you further about this topic, Harry. It would seem we have a lot to discuss
and have a lot of action to take. For now, I presume you wish to be visiting your vault?'

'Yes, but there is something else I would like the goblins' input on.'

'Oh, and what may that be?' Ragnok queried.

'This,' Harry said, and he took his Invisibility Cloak out and handed it to Ragnok, who
was staring at it in open-mouthed astonishment.

'The heir of Peverell? Impossible...' Ragnok trailed off, inspecting the silvery folds
of the cloak.

After a moment, Ragnok asked, 'I am about to ask you two questions, to which I will require
satisfactory answers. Following which, I will take a blood test and deposit it in the
Peverell/Gryffindor vault.'

'Gryffindor? Ignotus is related to the line of Godric Gr-'

'Where lies the grave of Ignotus Peverell?' Ragnok interrupted.

'Uh - Godric's Hollow,' Harry replied.

'How is it that this cloak has come into your posession?' the goblin continued.

'It was passed on... by my father.'

'Am I right when I say that your parents, prior to their deaths, resided in the ancestral
home of Godric's Hollow?'

'Er... yes,' Harry replied.

'Griphook!' Ragnok snapped, and Griphook immediately shuffled over.

'Please escort Mr. Potter and his elven friend to the vault.'

'The vault?' Griphook asked in confusion.

'The missing vault.'

Griphook's eyes widened in astonishment and he looked at Harry in what can be best described
as awe.

'I have no doubt he is the heir, but take a blood test when you get there,' Ragnok
ordered.

'What's all this about? What's so extraordinary about this?' Harry asked. So he
was descended from the person who made the first Invisibility Cloak, a part of the Hallows. Big
deal.

'You will find out, Harry. Just go to the vault. You'll understand.'

Harry shrugged his shoulders and made to leave but Ragnok stopped him.

'You may tell anyone who you wholeheartedly trust about your new relationship with the
goblin nation, but I'd advise you to tell no one about this Invisibility Cloak and its
significance.'

Harry shook hands with Ragnok, thanked him for his time, and followed the other goblin into the
black depths of Gringotts, Dobby in tow.





AN - No H/Hr moments in this one, but trust me, you will be compensated in the coming chapters.
Some important stuff regarding the overall plot of this story in this chapter and the next.

I presume you've all seen the new HBP trailer... I actually *shivered* in disgust when
I saw Ginny saying, 'Take my hand,' and when Hermione cries because stupid Ron is kissing
Lav-Lav. Not to mention when Ginny moves closer to kiss the Boy Who Lived. Yuck!

When I watch this in theatres, I'm going to forget about etiquette by booing loudly whenever
there are any R/Hr, H/G moments. And if there happens to be any H/G fan in the vicinity, I'll
be running the risk of getting arrested for slaughter.

Please, please make the rev. count total 300 with this chapter! Pretty please?







11. The Foretellings of the Parchment
-------------------------------------







Chapter 11 - The Foretellings of the Parchment







*'Griphook!' Ragnok snapped, and Griphook immediately shuffled over.*

*'Please escort Mr. Potter and his elven friend to the vault.'*

*'The vault?' Griphook asked in confusion.*

*'The missing vault.'*

*Griphook's eyes widened in astonishment and he looked at Harry in what could be best
described as awe.*

*'I have no doubt he is the heir, but take a blood test when you get there,' Ragnok
ordered.*

*'What's all this about? What's so extraordinary about this?' Harry asked. So
he was descended from the person who made the first Invisibility Cloak, a part of the Hallows. Big
deal.*

*'You will find out, Harry. Just go to the vault. You'll understand.'*

*Harry shrugged his shoulders and made to leave but Ragnok stopped him.*

*'You may tell anyone who you wholeheartedly trust about your new relationship with the
goblin nation, but I'd advise you to tell no one about this Invisibility Cloak and its
significance.'*

*Harry shook hands with Ragnok, thanked him for his time, and followed the other goblin into
the black depths of Gringotts, Dobby in tow.*





Harry, Griphook and Dobby took an available cart and began their long, winding journey through
the stoned passageways of Gringotts, Harry idly noting the absence of Thief's Downfall as they
started passing the vaults.

'Umm, are you sure you know where we're heading?' Harry asked Griphook cautiously.
The goblin was taking the cart up and down, past a good many of the lower vaults repeatedly and
Harry was starting to feel dizzy.

'No,' the goblin replied frankly, turning to look at Harry.

'Then what are we doing, why are we-'

'The only conclusion I can make is that I'll need your blood beforehand, so that it can
guide us,' Griphook replied.

Harry pondered this for a moment, before shrugging and offering Griphook his hand. Griphook
delicately, or as delicately as a goblin could get, scraped Harry's skin with a silver cut
goblin-made dagger he had produced and promptly scattered Harry's offerings on the rough floor
they were standing on.

At first nothing happened, but then Griphook muttered a few words under his breath and the blood
seemed to evaporate.

Immediately, the cart jerked about wildly and for a moment, Harry thought they were going to be
thrown off, but it regained its balance and they managed to hold on in time for it to zoom off even
deeper into the bank, taking narrow and sharp turns that even the goblin couldn't comprehend
quick enough.

At last they stopped in front of what looked like a stout, ornated iron door supported on all
sides by boulders.

'It means it will cave in if there's even the slightest hint of forced entry,'
Griphook said.

'Oh, will we be able to make a visit or is it too delic-'

'It's a highly fortified vault, probably the most secure in Gringott's, judging by
what we had to go through to get here,' Griphook interrupted.

'Just claim your ancestry, announce the arrival of the heir,' Griphook advised Harry as
he stepped off the cart, onto a narrow, cobbled path that led to the door.

*'Now who could it be?'* Harry thought dryly, *'Ignotus Peverell... Godric
Gryffindor... or... which other mysterious, insanely powerful legend who lived so many years ago
could have had an impossible relation to me... Merlin might do the trick too...'*

Harry looked back for a quick second to make sure Dobby was still around, and that was his
mistake.

When he turned back to his vault, he saw that it was now open and there was no hint of the
previous unstable entryway.

*'Great, so I am related to one of them, if I had a Galleon to bet on
which...'*

'Just come out the same way when you're done, Mr. Potter,' Griphook's voice
called out.

'You can come with me, if you want,' Harry replied, looking back at the goblin.

Griphook's eyebrows raised in question, before he thought better of it and followed Harry
into the vault.

'What if I get lost in there or get sucked into a Gringotts cum mysterious ancestor trap,
who better than a Gringotts goblin to save my life?;

Griphook gave him an approving look ; it wasn't often that the goblins were given
acknowledgements of their superiority when it came to bank matters.

Harry stepped in cautiouly. The inside was in total contrast with the outside view. Harry was
certainly expecting some dusty, unfurbished area with a few gold coins scattered here and there and
a huge amount of long-lost family heirlooms.

However, the place was sparkling clean and its interior designing was very elegant.

As Harry went through the contents of the vault, he couldn't help but feel a sense of
disappointment at what had been awaiting him. It was more of an anti-climax, really. The way
Ragnok, a generally unexcited and unresponsive being, behaved when encountered with information on
the 'missing vault', the path they had to take to get here, Griphook's easy admission
that this was probably the most fortified vault in the whole bank - had led him to esxpect
something phenomenal.

But on further inspection, it seemed to Harry that this vault was no different from any others :
it had a decent amount of gold, a stack of family books and a couple of heirlooms that looked
positively ancient. It even had a collection of fine silk robes emblazoned with the Peverell
crest.

Harry's disappointment must have showed on his face, for Griphook finally spoke.

'There must be something in here that makes this particular vault very special, Lord Potter,
it just has to be found.'

Harry just shrugged non-committally. 'I don't know what made me one in the first place,
but ignore the 'Lord' and just call me Harry, please?' he asked.

'Or it might be the fact that this was the first account in Gringott's, and it's
actually been accessed only one time since its inception,' Griphook finished off, not even
listening to Harry's words.

'Well, I think I'm done here, we don't have anything - ' Harry broke off, an
insane tingling spreading through his chest, at the exact spot where Voldemort's last seemingly
successful Killing Curse had hit him. It was as if it wanted to be hidden, as if it *desired*
to be overlooked.

Harry moved closer to the only dark and mysterious area of his new vault...



***



A silver Mercedes sedan drove in and parked itself in the garage of a luxurious house in
Oxford.

'We're home!' Jane exclaimed, getting out of the car.

'Mum, did you feed Tilly everyday while I was gone?' Hermione asked.

'Yes, dear,' Jane replied, exchanging a dry look with her husband. When Hermione came
home last summer, it was the first thing she had asked as soon as they reached home.

'I say, isn't Harry highly allergic to goldfish?' Thomas asked hopefully.

'No, Daddy, he isn't,' Hermione replied, 'he's allergic to cabbage and pork,
and he loves treacle tart and chicken, and he - '

'Honey,' Jane interrupted urgently, 'let's get your father into a chair first
before you start spouting off what you know about Harry.' And with that, she ushered a rapidly
whitening Thomas Granger into the house.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'I think we should lay up some ground rules for you and this Harry while he stays here,'
Thomas began without preamble.

Hermione and Jane rolled their eyes.

'What, is it too much of me that I care for the safety and well being of my only baby
daughter?' Thomas protested.

'Dad, Harry's coming over here, it's not as if I'm going to be shacked up
somewhere away from you guys.'

Thomas put his head in his hands.

'Poppet,' Jane began delicately, 'I think you need a little more tact than that
dear.' She then proceeded to her traumatized husband.

'Tom, from what we've heard about Harry from Hermione, he seems to be a very kind and
caring person. And besides, he'll be here, under our watchful eyes and nothing will happen to
Hermione.'

Hermione's eyes narrowed ; she didn't know why, but the thought of being under her
parents' watchful eyes while Harry was staying over troubled her.

'Okay now spit it out Thomas,' Jane ordered, 'as I said, Harry seems to be a very
nice person and he's coming over to Hermione's house, not the other way round. So what is
the problem?'

Thomas opened his mouth to shoot off a dozen reasons why that was a problem, but found that he
couldn't even come up with one.

'Well?' Jane asked expectantly.

'Off the top of my mind... I can't think of a particular reason why -'

'There you go,' Jane remarked triumphantly.

'So it's settled then?' Hermione asked tentatively, 'Harry's coming over,
dad won't treat him like a murder suspect and he can stay for the whole summer?'

'Yes sweetie, Harry's going to come over,' Jane smiled at her daughter's
enthusiasm.

'Yay!' Hermione squealed loudly, before clamping her mouth shut and looking sheepishly
at her father.

Thomas gave her a suspicious look. Shrugging, he got up and left the room.

'Mum?' Hermione turned to her mother worriedly, 'is Daddy angry at me?'

'No, honey, he's really worried about you when he has no reason to be, he's just
covering it up with a stern face.'

'Oh,' Hermione replied timidly.

'He'll get over it when he sees the kind of person Harry is,' Jane said, not sure
whether she was trying to convince Hermione or herself.

Hermione brightened up at that ; Harry was the kindest, sweetest and most caring person she had
ever known, other than her parents.

Then Hermione brought up something that had been on her mind for a long time, particularly since
she had invited Harry over for the summer.

'Mum? I was wondering... if we could go shopping some time?'

Jane's eyebrows raised ; she certainly wasn't expecting that from her teenage daughter.
In the past, Hermione always preferred staying at home and sinking her teeth into a long book. When
it came to shopping, the only kind Hermione did willingly was that for books. Any other kind of
shopping, she would have to be coerced into.

'Sure, honey. Although if you don't mind me asking, why now?' Jane asked, observing
her daughter carefully. She didn't know whether Hermione wanted to shop because she had taken a
genuine interest or because Harry was coming over and she wanted to look her best for him.

'Um, no reason, just felt like it,' Hermione said casuallly.

'S-Sure honey,' Jane said uncertainly, 'we'll go later this week.'



***



Harry took in the familiar symbol : a circle with its vertical diameter extended and enclosed by
a triangle.

He sighed, he didn't want any more to do with the Hallows after all the pain it had brought
him. But how could he have assumed there would be nothing of the sort here, in the very vault of
its creator?

A mould of sand was shaped into the pattern of the three Hallows and it chilled Harry to no end
that the sand pattern he was seeing right now had been exactly like this, undisturbed, for four
hundred years.

There was nothing else on the high table where the sand was, save for a couple of dress suits
that bore the noble title of Peverell.

Closing his eyes, he fought with himself furiously. A part of him desperately wanted to scatter
that sand, it was eating him alive. He needed to get rid of that deathly design, he *had* to
disturb the peace.

He lurched forward with an unforeseen rage and swept the contents of the sandbox all over the
table.

'AHHHH! NOOOOOOOOO!' he screamed in pain, as a reddish-gold mist enveloped his hands,
its flames licking away at his skin.

As he was losing the battle to stay conscious, he was dimly aware of a ragged parchment
appearing where the sand once was.

His arms nearly burnt to a crisp, he snatched the parchment out of thin air and his eyes
desperately perused its contents.

*One will come, one will go.*

It was as if a rage-spitting thunderbolt had struck his senses - in the vestige of his mind he
could see a man falling desperately to his knees on an unyielding floor, a man being stabbed in the
chest with a shiny dagger, his murderer and the towering outline of the surrounding prison gates
being the sole witnesses to his death. Harry tried reaching out to help the man, he had an inkling
that the dying man was a friend of his, but then everything swirled around him and the darkness
overtook him.



***



Deep down in the Ministry of Magic, in the darkness of Level Nine, three people found themselves
in a major quandary.

Not more than a couple of days ago, the most mysterious object known to wizardkind flashed a
violent gold, emitting heaps of sparks and making crackling noises that had led them to believe it
was on the verge of exploding for some reason.

But it didn't explode. It had been causing them a lot of duress in the last two days and
none of them had the slightest clue as to what to do about it. The fact that it was of the
unapproachable type and that it reeked of mysterious voices and whispers didn't help their
cause at all.

The team had cross-checked everything they could have done to set off such an unnatural reaction
in the Veil. They referenced the Ministry archives to make sure there were no ongoing magical
experiments that could have triggered something.

At the end, they came to the inevitable conclusion that it had managed to do something strange
on its own, spontaneously.

For the first time in its nearly four centuries of existence.

But now, minutes ago, it seemed to have been pushed into a queer sort of equlibrium. A
reddish-gold mist surrounded it and in another startling flash, a parchment was expelled from it,
similar to the Goblet of Fire, another interesting object that had not seen use in the last two
centuries.

*The heir has been revealed.*

That was all. After that, it went back to its previous state of existence. Peaceful, eerie and
undisturbed.

One of the three Unspeakables, a seventh generation pureblood named Algernon Rookwood was in
deeper contemplation than the others.

He knew very well that he had gotten his job because of his pure blood credentials. Quite a few
people objected to his appointment in such a sensitive area of the Ministry, especially after his
uncle's imprisonment a decade ago for leaking secrets of the same area he was now working
in.

He had expressed a healthy dose of remorse at what his uncle had done and the higher authorities
at the Ministry were thoroughly convinced when he expressed his desire to undo the wrongs committed
by his uncle by working and excelling at the same job. Of course, he had been helped by another
very influential, rich pureblood.

His father, a blood traitor, was murdered by his uncle prior to the War and his uncle raised him
as his own. Following his uncle's incarceration, the rest of his Hogwarts education and his
consequent career was thrown into jeopardy, but Lucius Malfoy had kindly seen to the payment of his
tuition fees for his last two years and had gotten him this boring, but well-paying job.

And this latest development in the Death Chamber was nowhere near boring.

These were the kind of things that Lucius was interested in hearing about...



***



'Lord Potter?' Griphook ventured hesitantly, 'can you hear me?'

'What are you - gerroffme - what's going on?' Harry squinted his eyes as the light
hit his face.

He was lying on the floor of the chamber, being revived by a worried goblin and a frantic
Dobby.

'You spaced out. I thought you were ready to leave and I turned to go when I heard you
scream. Your house elf and I rushed to you, but you had already fainted by that time and you were
clutching this.'

With that, he handed Harry the parchment that had rendered him unconscious.

*One will come, one will go.*

It was as if someone had cast a dozen Mind Awakening Charms upon him.

'NOOOO! I HAVE TO SAVE HIM!! he screamed, as he struggled against Griphook's vice like
grip.

'Lord Potter, calm yourself, there is no one,' Griphook said firmly.

'But there was a man, he was hit, he was DYING!! LET GO!!' Harry bellowed, and even as
the words had left his mouth the fight seemed to leave him and he slumped to the floor, weaker than
he had been the whole day.

'Did you heal my hands, Dobby?' he asked weakly.

'Y-Your hands, Master?' Dobby trembled, 'is something wrong with Master's hands,
Dobby didn't -'

But Harry had looked back at his own hands in astonishment. There they were, unblemished, yet he
was ready to bet on his Firebolt that he had suffered burns as well.

*You don't have a Firebolt yet, it releases this summer.*

Harry got up slowly ; if his subconscious was telling him the release dates of broomsticks, then
he was definitely alright.

'I'm fine, I think,' he told the both of them, before they could say anything.

'Sorry about that little act,' Hary said, 'I guess something about this place set me
off.'

'It is utterly unsurprising that something did so, Lord Potter,' Griphook said, 'as
I said earlier, this is a very special vault.'

'As I said earlier, can you call me Harry please?' Harry asked.

Griphook looked at him sharply for a moment, but he just nodded.

'I'm coming out now, just give me a moment,' Harry said.

Griphook nodded curtly and he left, Dobby going along side him.

Harry went back to the table where the sand was ; there was no sign of it now.

There were a couple of scrolls of parchment inside the pocket of one of the Peverell robes that
was draped over the table.

A few of them had a couple of Arithmancy equations and a few were blank. Two fragments, however,
stood out.

One of them had : *Thrice is three times one.*

On the other, was written : *The mystery lies at my ancestor's abode, only those who
solemnly swear fealty will be able to unlock a mystery that has plagued generations of witches and
wizards all over the world : Death.*

Harry breathed in and out. He was in no mood to solve any more cryptic riddles, nor did he want
to be knocked out cold again.

Shoving the papers into his pockets, he made his way out of the vault.

'Where now, Mas - Harry?' Dobby asked a couple of minutes later, as they exited
Gringotts.

'Well, I had some shopping to do in Diagon Alley, not to mention a few visits to a few
familiar places in Knockturn, but I guess we better be headed back before my Uncle goes
ballistic.'

With a quick snap, Dobby apparated them both back into the smallest bedroom of Number Four,
Privet Drive.





AN - Well, I'm back!! And now I can promise you guys very regular updates at least for the
next two months (weekly updates, rather than monthly ones).

The response to this story has really warmed me and encouraged me to write more. I mean, 350 odd
reviews for just 10 written chapters in which Harry and Hermione are not even together yet, and
that too on Portkey?! Thanks a lot, all of you!! I can't possibly respond to all of them, but I
assure you I read and appreciate each and every one of them...

So, I hope you liked this update and please, please leave a review on your way out!!



PS - Once again, there's a Star Wars line in this chapter which can only be spotted by hard
core freaks like me. If anyone *does* spot it, I will be really impressed.







12. 12. Harry and Hermione Go Shopping
--------------------------------------







Chapter 12 - Harry and Hermione Go Shopping







'Hermione dear, are you ready!' Jane's voice hollered out.

'In a minute mum!' Hermione shouted back. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and
after thinking for a moment, she left her bedroom.

'Thomas love, are you ready!' Jane shouted again.

'Yes,' Thomas grumbled loudly. He did not appreciate being disturbed from watching his
recorded Manchester United football videos. For the purpose of watching two women shop. Not to
mention carrying their bags.

'Be a bit more enthusiastic dear,' Jane commented as she walked into the living room
where her husband was reluctantly turning off the TV.

'Oh, come on, you watched them live a month ago, their stupid club won that new league
thingy and you want to watch it again?!' Jane asked, looking at him ridiculously.

'DON'T!' Thomas snarled, 'insult Manchester United in front of me.'

Jane rolled her eyes and dragged her husband out of the house. 'You were born and brought up
in Norwich, you've been living in Oxford for the last fifteen years and you support a team from
Manchester. How patriotic,' she remarked nastily.

'Why do you need me anyway?' Thoms whined, looking at his wife sourly.

'To carry our bags honey,' Jane smiled at him.

Thomas groaned loudly but Jane had more to say.

'Think of it this way. If you don't come, there will be no one to control what we buy
and I might just let Hermione buy whatever she wants. And I have it on good authority that
she's been thinking of adding a few short skirts to her wardrobe.'

Thomas' eyes widened in shock. 'I'm coming!!' he shouted and he was the first
one in the car.

Jane smirked triumphantly and she turned around.

Looking carefully at her daughter's choice of attire, she gestured for her to get into the
car.

After checking that the gas was off and locking the doors, Jane got into the front seat and they
were off.

The day seemed to be unnaturally long for Thomas. He watched in boredom as his wife bought
herself some jewellry and Hermione some earrings. He then yawned loudly as they walked into the
clothing section.

Feigning an excuse, he quickly made his way out of the department and as far away from them as
possible. He sighed in relief when he spotted the sports display.

Walking out of the store, Thomas Granger was pretty happy at his purchases : a set of new golf
clubs and a new racquet.

However, his happiness changed to nerve-wracking tension as he met up with his wife on the
second floor, where she told him what exactly she had purchased for Hermione.

Wiping his sweat-laden brow with fear, he noticed a genuinely happy expression on his
daughter's face as she skipped her way towards them, her hands clutching two large shopping
bags.

All in all, it was a mixed mood in the Granger camp : one worried man wondering what the hell
his daughter had bought on her first shopping trip, one relaxed woman wondering what she should
make for lunch and one anxious young lady wondering what a certain green-eyed dreamy young man
would think of the results of her first shopping trip.




*




Two weeks passed uneventfully ; a rare occurence for Harry. He didn't know whether his Uncle
and Aunt could notice the change in his behaviour. He had become much quieter than he had before,
not reacting spontaneously to their goading, not wearing his emotions on his sleeve. Even Dudley
seemed to have gotten bored with picking on his favourite cousin. He found out to his disbelief
that it was very hard to pick up and maintain a fight with a person who wasn't even
*interested* in fighting.

In the meanwhile, he had not completely wasted the two weeks. The day after he arrived, he
decided to finish off all his required shopping.




* Two weeks ago *




'Dobby!' Harry called out softly in the confines of his room.

Dobby popped into existence right behind him.

'What can Dobby do for Harry Potter sir?'

'Can you apparate me to Diagon Alley?'

'Of course, Ma - Harry.'

'Hang on a second, let me get my Cloak.'

Dobby looked at him curiously.

'I prefer not being seen skulking around in - er - certain places,' Harry said, throwing
his Cloak over himself.

Dobby took what he thought was Harry's hand and apparated them just outside Leaky
Cauldron's exit, at the entrance of Diagon Alley.

Harry thought for a moment and then spoke, 'Dobby, is it possible for you to go to Gringotts
and withdraw some money for me? After I buy some stuff, I'll go in there and deposit it
myself.'

'How much should Dobby withdraw, Harry?' Dobby asked.

'Three thousand galleons should do it,' Harry said.

'Yes sir,' Dobby saluted and disappeared.

Shaking his head wryly, Harry continued walking slowly through the streets of Diagon Alley,
happy to see that the windows of every store didn't have pictures of scowling, sneering Death
Eaters and more recently, his own pretty picture under the caption : *Undesirable Number
One.*

By the time he had made it to the entrance of Flourish and Blotts, Dobby had caught up with him
and subtly passed him the gold Harry had requested.

Harry opened the doors of the store and the store manager looked up to see an elf walking in.
Shrugging it off, he continued with his paperwork, keeping an eye out on the strange elf.

Harry took a shrewd look at the clerk, before making his way around the shop.

He spent half an hour there, picking up books that he was sure he needed.

Finally, he handed the books to Dobby and after Dobby took a quick look at them he took two
hundred and twenty seven galleons from Harry.

The clerk's eyes widened when he saw the elf dump a load of books onto his counter and the
gold to go along with it.

He tapped his wand on each book and after rounding up all the books, he muttered a soft charm.
Thick, gray smoke emanated from his wand and formed a number.

'*Deletrius,'* he said, and then proceeded to count the gold Dobby had given
him.

On finding an exact match between the figure and the gold presented to him, he looked at Dobby
in shock.

'You'll be surprised to find out how intelligent, fun and loyal house elves actually are
if you don't start off treating them like Doxy droppings,' Harry said coldly, throwing off
his Invisibility Cloak.

The clerk's eyes widened and he pointed wildly at Harry, 'You - you - how did you - you
have an *Invisibility Cloak?'* he finished in wonder.

'It's a Disillusionment Charm, if I had myself an Invisibility Cloak, I wouldn't be
here now, would I? I would probably be off robbing Gringotts,' Harry smirked, knowing that that
was exactly what he had done one time.

Choosing to say nothing, which was a wise decision in Harry's opinion, the clerk simply
deposited the books in a brown sack and accepted the gold wordlessly.

Harry and Dobby left, after getting the store owner to shinken the weight and transfigure it
into a bottle opener.

After exiting the shop, Harry turned to Dobby.

'Dobby, we'll be going to Knockturn Alley now and I don't feel comfortable wandering
in there invisible. Someone might try hitting you or something cause you're a house elf and I
don't know what else. I'm just going to lower my hood and if I have to address you in any
way I might have to do it a bit – roughly - in front of everyone else, okay?' Harry
asked.

'It is no problem, Master Harry Potter,' Dobby said, his eyes still shining with tears
because of what Harry had said earlier in the shop.

'I hate doing it, but I have to blend in with that crowd in order to avoid attracting
suspicion, so that means I'll have to treat anyone who is not pureblood and sadistic as
scum,' Harry said regretfully.

With that, he straightened himself and fastened his cloak tightly around himself, drawing the
hood down till it barely reached his nose.

*'Ah, my Darth Sidious look,'* Harry thought as he saw his reflection in the window
of the bookstore he had just exited. *'If only I had a bit more height.'*

Funnily enough, they attracted many curious stares in Diagon Alley (some people even backed away
in fear), but no one in Knockturn Alley even spared them a second glance, though many did sneer at
the elf.

Entering the store that Lord Voldemort had once worked at as a teenager, Harry cleared his
throat loudly and was greeted with the scowling face of Mr. Borgin.

'Yes? What do you want here?' he asked coldly.

'I was expecting a slightly nicer attitude from the owner of such a reputed store,'
Harry said calmly, 'it seems my source was mistaken.'

'Mistaken about what?' Borgin snapped, his oily face glinting in the dim light.

'Well, the Dark Lord and many of his favourites like old Malfoy and Bella told me certain
positive things that made me curious to encroach upon the hospitality of Knockturn Alley. Never
mind, I'll be going then,' and Harry turned to leave.

'The - The D- Dark, Mr. Malfo - no, no - sir, please stay,' Borgin rasped, as if he
could feel their wrath at that very moment, 'I thought you were someone else, there are a lot
of intruders nowadays, filthy Mudbloods lurking about, wandering the streets at will, please sir,
it wasn't my intention at all to offend you - '

'So you mistook me for a Mudblood, am I right?' Harry hissed, advancing forward on a man
who was half a foot taller than him.

'N - No sir, I was being delusion - please forgive me sir, I wouldn't dare -'

'Enough,' Harry snapped, *'Enough.'*

Borgin's eyes widened fearfully and Harry felt a wave of disgust ; both at Borgin's
sickening flattery and at himself, for masquerading around as the type of person that he had always
hated.

Harry walked around majestically, hoping that he looked to Borgin exactly as someone of Lucius
Malfoy's stature.

'I have not yet named the rag beside me, but I am now considering the name Borgin,'
Harry gestured to Dobby and then continued, 'is that objectionable to you?'

For a second Harry thought that he had gone too far, but his acting seemed to be better than he
gave himself credit for, as Borgin was by now even more scared than a turkey on Thanksgiving.

He continued walking around the store, acting as if he wasn't looking for anything in
particular, till he finally stopped beside a display cubicle containing a magnificent necklace of
opals.

'How much for that necklace?' he asked, though he already knew the price.

'Fifteen hundred galleons,' Borgin replied immediately.

'Remove any protective enchantments it may have on it and give it to the elf,' Harry
said crisply, before proceeding further in his inspection of the shop.

'The Hand of Glory,' he muttered, picking the item up and inspecting it closely,
'insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder, a plundering machine.'

'Sir, you are absolutely correct!' Borgin exclaimed, as if announcing the winner of a
lucky draw. 'Will you be buying this as well?'

Harry seemed to ponder this for a moment before he replied, 'Yes, yes, I think I will. How
much?'

'Five hundred galleons, sir,' Borgin replied.

'I'll take it,' was all Harry said, before he made his way to the front of the shop,
beside Borgin's desk.

'A Vanishing Cabinet,' Harry said, 'very interesting.'

'Would you like to purchase it sir?' Borgin asked eagerly, his earlier fear being
replaced by greed.

'How much is it for?' Harry asked.

'A thousand,' Borgin said, rubbing his hands together in delight, for he was getting
three thousand galleons from this customer.

'I will take these three items and give you a total of two and a half thousand, no
more,' Harry replied.

'But sir - '

'That wasn't a request Borgin,' Harry hissed and Borgin started sweating again.

'Two and a half is acceptable with me, the honour of doing business with you easily
surpasses the five hundred galleon deficit,' Borgin said in a subservient tone.

Under his cloak, Harry's eyes flashed and for a second, they lost their innocent green
colour. He knew Borgin was intimidated by him and he vowed to exploit that. It felt ... *good*
to have that kind of power over someone, especially after years of abuse and torment.

*Fear is your ally.*

A second later, Harry stumbled. Clutching his face in disgust, he turned away from Borgin. What
was he doing? He was acting like an oppressor because he had to get the job done, but now he found
he was *enjoying* it...

Borgin looked at him curiously but didn't say anything.

Harry recomposed himself and turned back to Borgin.

'I don't want the Vanishing Cabinet but I will pay for it,' he told him.

Borgin looked at him in confusion, 'Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand.'

'I am paying for you to destroy it,' Harry said.

Borgin's eyes widened and for a second it looked like he was about to protest.

'I want it destroyed immediately,' Harry said, his voice rising, as he remembered what
those Vanishing Cabinets did to Hogwarts a long time ago.

'Y - Yes sir, I might have to remove any lingering spells to make it safe to destroy.
Destroying the Cabinet will be much easier than say, repairing it. I need a weeks time and I'll
have it destroyed by then sir.'

*'The Cabinet is just like the world we live in,'* Harry thought morosely.
*'Destroying the world is much easier than repairing it.'*

'I'll come back in two weeks and check in here again to make sure you've had it
destroyed,' Harry said, 'if you've made the necklace and hand portable, give it to my
elf.' With that, he quickly walked out of the shop.

He ran both his hands through his messy hair and sighed. He did not like what went through his
mind when he was threatening Borgin.

'Harry Potter sir?' Dobby asked curiously.

Harry pulled his hood back and looked at Dobby.

'I'm sorry for how I treated you in there Dobby,' he said sincerely.

'It's okay with Dobby, Dobby knows that Master got what he wanted because of that,'
Dobby said earnestly.

Harry looked at Dobby for a moment and then he nodded.

'Well, I'm finished over here. I'll just deposit these in my vault and then why
don't have an ice cream after that at Fortesque's?' Harry asked Dobby.

'Dobby is sorry, but the ice cream is hurting Dobby's teeths,' Dobby said. 'But
Dobby will love to mix Butterbeer and Firewhiskey!'

Harry smiled at Dobby. He was feeling much better now. What happened in the shop was just the
gloominess of Knockturn Alley hitting him. When they reached Diagon Alley again, he would be
fine.

*'I am a good person,'* he thought savagely, although he wasn't sure whether he
said it just to reassure himself or as a serious reminder.




* Present Time *




He had picked up some good reference books from Flourish and Blotts and that coupled with the
basic text books of the first two years of his magical education, he found himself quite busy.
Although he couldn't use his wand, he decided to study the theory of various spells, the
concept behind making many advanced potions, and of course, Occlumency.

For Occlumency and beginner Legilimency he had purchased a book called *'Mind Magic : The
Subtleties of an Unknown Art',* and he had followed it word by word. He had become
accustomed to sitting in one place and meditating for hours, driving away all stray thoughts from
his mind. He had a vague feeling that these meditations and mind-strengthening exercises became
much easier for him now because of the absence of the Horcrux in his forehead.

But he couldn't test his defenses, he couldn't check whether his mind was really immune
to external invasion. For this, he required a wand. So, he adjusted and made sure he studied the
theory properly and constructed the 'house' in his mind as the book had explained.

Another question that plagued him throughout these two weeks was the revelation of his secret.
Jenny had told him to tell only those he absolutely trusted and that was what he intended to do.
But who could he trust?

A week ago he could have sworn it would be Ron and Hermione. But Jenny had shown him the
difference in their attitude towards him ; she had finally made him understand what qualities made
an ordinary friendship into something truly special and permanent.

Not to mention the fact that he wasn't sure he liked Ron's behaviour in the few days he
had spent with him at Hogwarts.

He was almost guaranteed to tell Hermione. He wanted to tell the last of the true Marauders his
secret too, one of whom would soon become his Defense teacher and the other, who would be escaping
an inescapable prison in a couple weeks time.

Not ignoring the Muggle aspect of strengthening himself, Harry had started working out
rigorously every day ; he made sure he did a healthy amount of crunches and at least an hour of
jogging every morning. He had even shocked the hell out of Dudley one afternoon when he had asked
him if he could have a go at his pristine, unused gym equipment.

All in all, Harry thought that he had done a good amount of work in the last two weeks, instead
of wasting the time with a bucket of ice cream and a stack of porn like any normal teenager would
have.

*'So this is what it's like to be mature,'* Harry thought to himself
wondrously. *'I really hope Hermione likes it.'*

A dreamy expression formed on Harry's face and he slid to the floor with happiness flowing
through him, he was imagining her pretty, brown eyes, her mass of uncontrollable bushy, brown hair,
her -

'BOY!!' Uncle Vernon's voice came out of nowhere and Harry opened his eyes with a
start, looking at his uncle who had just walked in.

'What were you thinking about, boy?!' Vernon snarled, looking at Harry with disgust
etched on his beefy face.

Harry reddened.

'I saw that look on your face, I saw that useless smile, I know what kind of things
you're dreaming about! It had better not be about that freak who was talking to you at the
station! I'll break your legs if you knock her up and get yourself blown up and bring another
useless, unnatural freak like yourself into my roof! Are we not giving you enough chores, that you
have the time to - to - maybe I should ask your Aunt to set you up with a couple of extra chores,
that should - '

'What did you want with me, Uncle?' Harry gritted his teeth. He knew that he had enough
control not to lash out at simpletons like the Dursleys (especially as he had experienced the wrath
of much more hateful people by then) but the fact that Vernon had managed to degrade Hermione's
dignity by talking about her like that angered him to no end.

Uncle Vernon's eyes flashed, before he looked away from Harry, muttering darkly to
himself.

'Well?' Harry insisted.

'It's your teenage fantasy on the phone, she wants to talk,' Vernon managed to emit,
unable to say Hermione's name.

Harry got a wicked smirk on his face ; he needed to make his Uncle downright furious because of
what he said about Hermione.

'What, Aunt Marge is on the phone for me?' he asked innocently.

'POTTER!!!!' Vernon roared, lunging for Harry, but Harry was too quick for him.

Nimbly ducking under his uncle's oustretched arms, he muttered a vague, 'I was
kidding!' and quickly vacated himself.

Running down the stairs two at a time, he ignored his Aunt's hostile look and picked up the
phone.

'Hello?'

'Harry!!' Hermione squealed, and Harry felt lightheaded again.

'Hi, Hermione!' he replied with enthusiasm, keeping an eye out for any unwanted arrivals
in the living room, especially that of his Uncle.

'How was your summer so far, oh, silly me, that wasn't an intelligent question!'
Hermione said, 'um, is it alright with you if I come in two hours time to pick you up?'

'Yeah, that's perfect with me,' Harry replied.

'So keep an eye out for my car at around eleven, okay?' Hermione asked.

'Yeah, sure, wait, you're driving?' Harry asked in shock.

'No silly goose, I'm coming with my parents!' Hermione replied, amusement lacing her
voice.

'Oh,' Harry aid sheepishly, 'okay then.'

Harry would have loved to continue hearing his best friend's sweet voice, but he was now
being distracted by the loud, deliberate clearing of throats coming from the other room.

Sighing, he said, 'Hermione, I have to go now.'

'Let me guess, your Aunt and Uncle and pig have problems with you taking an *incoming*
call and speaking for more than fifteen seconds?'

'Er - yeah,' Harry smiled, his Hermione had a great sense of humour too.

Hermione harrumphed. 'I'll see you later Harry,' she said softly.

'Yeah,' Harry replied, his voice just as soft as hers, 'I can't wait.'

'Bye,' she said and then she hung up.

'When are they coming boy?' his Uncle asked curtly, clearly not having forgotten
Harry's jibe about Marge.

'In two hours,' Harry replied.

'Well, Marge will be here in an hour or so, I'm going now to the station to pick her up.
When she arrives, you will greet her courteously, carry her luggage with a SMILE and then attend to
her dogs, who will be very hungry by that time. Have I made myself clear boy?'

'I suppose so,' Harry replied sharply, 'after feeding her dogs, would you want me to
clean her shoes and wash her knickers as well?'

Vernon's face went purple and it looked like a vein was bursting in his head as he lunged
forward with a roar, desperate to have his big hands squeezing Harry's throat. Harry fell off
the sofa as his Uncle attacked him, but they were interrupted by a larger cry than
Vernon's.

'OWWWWW! FUCK! SON OF A BITCH!!' Dudley screamed, his voice coming for some reason from
the kitchen. There was a temporary silence and then the two adults and Harry heard a series of pots
and pans fall to the floor with a loud, clattering noise. Vernon immediately rushed to the
kitchen.

Petunia gasped as she heard her son scream, she never knew that Dudley had those kind of words
in his vocabulary.

'Ah, you told me your son was a disciplined, good-natured young man as opposed to my
assertions that he's a rowdy, uncivilized young loafer.'

Petunia spat at Harry. 'I'll deal with you when I come back, Potter,' she hissed,
before rushing to the kitchen to see what had happened to her beloved son.

When Harry found out that Dudley had tried sneaking a piece of cake, not realising that the oven
was still hot, causing him to jerk back in pain and brush against Aunt Petunia's precarious
stand of kitchen utensils (authentic Belgian, she insisted), he laughed loudly, feeling happier
than he had been in a long time.







AN - The next chapter will definitely have our favourite couple meeting each other, although I
don't know when that chapter will be out, because I'm feeling really, really depressed
right now. Pakistan, the country (it doesn't even deserved to be called 'country', more
of an autocratic state) I hate the most in the world, the biggest sponsor and enjoyer of terrorism
just won the International T20 Cricket World Cup. Pakistan winning at anything sends me and
millions of other people into serious depression.

So hopefully, if I get out of my funk quick enough, you'll have another chapter soon :(

Please, please review!!!! The response to the last chapter wasn't as much as I hoped for...
(sorry if I'm coming off as too greedy)









13. First Day at the Grangers'
------------------------------





Chapter 13 - First Day at the Grangers'





'Harry!' Aunt Petunia snarled.

'Yes,' Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

'Your Uncle called from the station, he said the train's almost an hour late and
they'll be here late.'

'And you're telling me all this because...?' Harry drawled.

'Don't talk to me in that tone boy,' Petunia snarled, 'there's a slight
chance that her arrival might overlap with your freaky friends coming to pick you up, so -
'

'They aren't freaky. Hermione's parents are dentists,' Harry interrupted.

'Dentists?' Petunia asked disbelievingly.

'Yeah, you know, the people who fix teeth.'

'Well, when the freak and her parents arrive, I want you to - '

'If memory serves me right, you wanted to be one of those 'freaks' a long time ago.
You even sent a letter to dear Professor Dumbledore begging him to let you into Hogwarts,'
Harry said cuttingly.

Petunia gasped. She swayed for a moment, before falling abruptly onto the edge of the sofa.

For a moment, there was only silence as Petunia stared at Harry with shock, and perhaps a little
fear.

'H-How d -do you know t-that?' Petunia whispered, her head in her hands.

Against his will, Harry was starting to feel guilty for his unkind remark. He had just said it
to put his Aunt on the backfoot, he didn't think it would have this much effect on her,
especially after all these years.

'I know,' he said simply.

Petunia looked away from him and spoke crisply, 'Go to the spare bedroom, make sure its tidy
enough for Marge's visit.'

Harry got up and made his way up the stairs. He took one last look at his Aunt and then he
left.

He knew this was his Aunt's way of telling him to stay away till they came to pick him up ;
she wouldn't want him to know that she was affected by his words.

Taking a look in the spare bedroom where Marge would be staying, Harry got a nasty idea.

'Dobby!' Harry whispered.

'What can Dobby do for M - Harry?' Dobby asked kindly.

'Can you get some chocolate over here without actually using magic?' Harry asked.

'Of course sir, Dobby can buy it from Hogsmeade,' Dobby replied.

'Okay, can you have the chocolate stuffed into dog biscuits?' Harry asked.

Dobby's eyes widened before he nodded wordlessly.

'And bring me back a few peeled onions as well.'

Harry gave him a few Sickles before telling him to come back quickly.

Harry ran to Dudley's bedroom and reached under the bed, where he knew there was a porn
magazine, Dudley's first.

In the old timeline, Dudley had bought his first porn magazine when he was thirteen and a half
and had proudly labelled it - 'Property of Dudley Dursley'. He had then added to his
collection in the subsequent years. He then walked back to Marge's bedroom, giving the cover an
appreciative glance.

Knowing that he was actually almost eighteen, Harry opened it and quickly skimmed through
it.

It was five minutes and a few satisfied groans later when Harry snapped the magazine shut as he
realised just exactly what he was doing.

*'Moaning over Dudley's porn in Marge's bedroom.'*

Rubbing his eyes wearily, he took the covers off and placed the magazine underneath such that
anyone who was unlucky enough to sleep there would feel its presence.

Dobby appeared at that moment, a small basket of biscuits in one hand and three peeled onions in
the other.

Harry took the onions and gestured to the furnished bedside table.

Dobby placed the basket there and then disappeared, but not before giving one last curious look
at Harry.

He stuffed the onions and the porn under the blanket. After smoothening the bedsheets, he got up
and made his way to the table where Dobby had placed the biscuits.

On a small piece of paper, he wrote - *'For Ripper - With Best Compliments from His
Excellency, Mr. Art Vandelay.*

Grinning to himself, he exited the room.

Harry whiled away an hour by doing his stretches and then he wandered into the bathroom. Having
a quick shower, he took particular care of his appearance as he wanted to look his best for
Hermione. He knew that she didn't judge boys by their looks, but he still wanted to look good
for her.

The time passed and it was now eleven o' clock. As if on cue, a screeching noise sounded
beside Number Four and several doors were opened and slammed shut.

Harry grinned ; Hermione was right on time.

Leaving his luggage in his room, he stormed down the stairs, jumping the last three and zoomed
out the door. He came to a standstill as he saw that it was not Hermione, rather it was Uncle
Vernon with Marge and her dog in tow.

'Ah, still here are you boy?' Marge spat, shoving a suitcase into his arms and walking
past him into the house.

'Always a pleasure,' Harry muttered and he too turned and made his way into the
house.

He kept an eye on his back in case Marge's dog came too close. He wasn't scared of dogs,
but he was terrified of rabid dogs.

Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Aunt Marge and Dudley were already at the table, settling down for a
big brunch.

'There are some wet clothes in my suitcase which you will hang out for drying, then you will
take out the toothbrushes and my other accessories and put them in the bathroom, following which
you will immediately come down here and tend to my Ripper, is that clear?' Marge snarled,
looking at Harry with utter disgust on her face.

'Whatever you say Marjorie,' Harry said calmly, feeling pretty confident by now that the
devil had taken control of his tongue. And sure enough -

'WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU -'

'BOY, GET BACK TO YOUR ROOM AND DO WHAT YOU'RE - '

'YOU COME BACK AND APOLOGISE TO YOUR AUNT - '

Funnily enough, with all the chaos surrounding Harry's unneccessary response, no one heard
another car stop by Number Four and no one heard three people get down and walk up to the front
door.

'Harry?' someone called out.

Harry turned around abruptly ; it was Hermione.

'Hi Hermione!' he exclaimed thankfully, wanting to kiss her for her perfect timing.

'Are you ready?' she asked shyly.

Harry nodded. 'I'll just get my things, they're in my room.'

'I'll help,' Hermione said eagerly, and they both rushed upstairs, leaving the two
adult Grangers to deal with four angry people, three of whom were obese.

'I can take the bags myself, can you just take Hedwig?' Harry asked.

'Sure,' Hermione smiled. 'I recognised your Aunt, Uncle and cousin, but who was the
other person?'

'Oh that's a forty year old obese virgin who is worth slightly less than the rabid dog
that she feeds fourteen times a day,' Harry replied.

'Ookay,' Hermione raised her eyebrows, 'but what is she doing here?'

'Oh, she's another Aunt of mine,' Harry said nonchalantly, leading them out of the
room.

Hermione rolled her eyes and followed him out, taking Hedwig's cage along with her.

To the relief of everyone present except Harry, the Grangers made it out of the house and into
their car without any further ado. Harry, however, was still itching for a fight with Aunt
Marge.

Harry opened the door for Hermione who looked at him in shock and then she got in, blushing.

Turning quite red himself, Harry went over to the other side and got in.

He rolled down his window and looked out to see four disgusted faces looking back at him.

'Adios!' he hollered out, and they were gone.

The ride to the Grangers' house was pleasant as well as frightening for Harry.

He could feel rather than see Hermione sneaking glances at him every now and then and he felt
himself wanting to reach out and hold her hand.

Harry snuck his hand out closer to Hermione's outstretched one.

'Honey, did I tell you about that kid I literally terrorised in our office last week, the
one that had three cavities and kept whining? Boy, he left my office screaming in pain.'

Harry immediately jerked his hand back and looked ahead to see Hermione's father glaring at
him through the rear view mirror.

If looks could kill, Thomas Granger would have slumped forward in his seat due to the intense
glare he was receiving from Hermione.

Thomas ignored his daughter and hummed a jaunty tune as he moved in and out of traffic.



*



They reached Oxford some time laterr, all of them feeling very hungry. Harry took his bags out
of the trunk and followed the other three into the house.

'Hermione dear, give him the tour and show him where he'll be staying,' Jane
instructed Hermione.

'Sure, mum,' Hermione replied. 'Come on, Harry,' she said, motioning for Harry
to follow her.

Hermione showed him the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, and then they climbed the
stairs to the next floor.

Her parents' bedroom was situated at one end of the first floor and hers on the other.

Harry took a deep breath as he entered Hermione's bedroom. He closed his eyes for a second
before opening them and looking at Hermione. She was looking at him expectantly.

'Well...' she trailed off uncertainly.

'I-It's great Hermione!' he said truthfully. Somehow, this was exactly the kind of
room he imagined Hermione living in. An entire wall was dedicated to her books and Hogwarts stuff,
and the room was impeccably clean with just a small feminine touch in the form of her pink
bedsheets and teddy bears.

Hermione must have caught the dreamy look on Harry's face for she blushed slightly. Taking
his hand, she led them downstairs where her mother was calling them for lunch.

Lunch was a fairly pleasant affair, for Thomas seemed to be slightly reassured by the fact that
Harry and Hermione were sitting on opposite ends of the table.

'So Hermione tells me you defeated a Dark Lord thrice, knocked out a troll, drove a flying
car and killed a ninety foot basilisk, not to mention you were the youngest person in a century to
make it on to your sports team... Is all that true?' Jane asked, barely ten seconds into their
meal.

'Mum!' Hermione blushed ; she had told her mother all that in the strictest
confidence.

'Well, it is true dear,' Jane replied gracefully, 'so did all that really happen
within two years of you attending this school Harry?'

'Well,' Harry began reluctantly, not seeing how he was going to get out of this one,
'the first time he fell was when I was a year old, so it's not exactly within two
years...' Harry trailed off uncomfortably.

'And you're modest too!' Jane exclaimed sincerely, exchanging a meaningful look with
Hermione.

Hermione smiled and after sneaking a quick peek at Harry, she looked down into her plate and
continued eating silently.

Thomas didn't miss this interaction but he didn't comment on it. Wanting to be courteous
for his daughter's sake, he decided to join in the conversation.

'So tell me more about this sport that you play, Harry. Hermione's just told us about
you being in danger all the time catching what she says is a 'ridiculous, useless golden
ball' and how a teacher once attacked you while you were playing.'

'Not to mention one of her letters this year where she mentioned that the *game ball*
was jinxed to strike you down. Is that common in your world?' Jane asked curiously.

'N-No, not exactly, those were some sort of special circumstances,' Harry replied.

There was an awkward moment of silence before Jane continued, 'Hermione never mentioned any
special circumstances to us.'

Harry looked at Hermione questioningly.

'She didn't tell you - '

'Well, she told us about how a teacher was an impostor and that he was somehow the host
organism for the Dark Lord.'

'Yeah, well those were the 'special circumstances'. He was trying to kill me on
behalf of the parasite that was residing in the back of his head.'

'Do you have any idea why a Dark sorcerer seems to have the hots for you?' Thomas asked,
trying to lighten the mood.

*Neither can live while the other survives...*

'No,' Harry replied.

Hermione looked at Harry suspiciously. For a moment, his eyes seemed to have turned cloudy and
she could have sworn that she saw a shadow flit across his boyish contours. He certainly knew more
than he was letting on, she surmised.

Harry found himself in a dilemma. He was under the roof of the person he trusted most in the
whole world, along with the two people who meant the most to that person. If anyone deserved to
know about where he really came from, it was them.

Harry looked up to see Hermione looking at him very suspiciously, as if she was trying to suss
out something odd about him. He gulped nervously and looked away.

Quickly turning back to his plate, he devoured the last of his chicken and finished his water.
He had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to last one and a half months without revealing his
secret to Hermione Jane Granger.

'So, what do you do on your free evenings Harry?' Thomas asked, as Jane served everyone
a generous helping of dessert.

'Um - nothing much, really. If my Aunt and Uncle need help with something, I do that
otherwise I just hang around in my room,' Harry answered.

'How would you like to play some tennis at the local club today? We can talk about your
Quidditch and we can probably watch some football while we're there.'

'That sounds great!' Harry replied enthusiastically. Perhaps he would be able to really
impress Hermione's dad over a lively game of tennis, although he had never played the game
before.

'Okay, that's settled then,' Thomas declared, 'will you girls be alright on your
own today?'

'I daresay we will,' Jane replied drily.

'What about our essays, we've received over twelve inch assignments in every subject and
we have to get a head start on our elective choices for third year. Especially Arithmancy, I'm
not sure I - '

'Hermione dear,' Jane said loudly, 'There are still one and a half months of summer
holiday left, you'll have plenty of time for it.'

Harry shot Hermione an appraising look, before he chuckled loudly. People changed, but Hermione
would always be Hermione, it seemed.

'Is there anything funny about wanting to finish homework and trying to get a head-start,
Potter?' Hermione growled, a dangerous glint suddenly appearing in her eyes.

'No!' Harry quickly responded, a little startled by Hermione's tone.

This time the two adults chuckled loudly.



*



The afternoon passed by slowly, with all four of them in the living room, reading magazines and
newspapers and in Hermione's case, textbooks.

'Ready to go Harry?' Thomas asked, retrieving his tennis racquets from a cabinet under
the showcase.

'Sure, Mr. Granger, let me just put on some runners,' Harry replied.

Hermione sniffed disapprovingly. 'You're going to be wasting your time you know. Sure
you'll play tennis for ten minutes and Dad will ask you a few obligatory questions about
Quidditch, but the rest of the time will inevitably be spent watching reruns of football and Dad
brainwashing you into believing that Manche - '

'Let's GO!' Thomas roared, and for a moment, Harry saw the familiar manic glint of
Oliver Wood appear in the older man's eyes.

He first went to Hermione and whispered cryptically, 'Merlin or whoever's up there gave
me the gift of time, you know.'

After giving her a small smile and committing her confused expression (something that didn't
happen too often) to memory, Harry quickly exited the room.

Hermione leaned back in the sofa and put her books aside. She had done enough reading for the
day and now she had some thinking and speculating to do.

'Confused?'

Hermione's head whipped around to see her mother standing at the doorway, looking at her
with an undecipherable expression.

'What do you mean?' Hermione asked.

'I didn't think I would be saying this, but I'm a bit confused myself,' Jane
responded sitting beside Hermione, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

'Confused at what?' Hermione asked, irritation creeping into her voice.

'You didn't note anything...*off* about him?'

'Well,' Hermione began defensively, 'he's been through a lot of terrible things
and from what little I saw at the station the last two years, he doesn't have a blooming home
life either.'

'No,' Jane said staunchly, 'it's more than that. He's too mature for his
age. He actually thinks before he speaks, a quality that simply doesn't exist in
teenagers.'

Hermione rolled her eyes at that. 'I think before I speak, *mum*,' she said
contemptuously.

'Let's not get into that now, Poppet,' Jane said patronisingly. 'We were talking
about Harry.'

'Yes we were,' Hermione said.

'Doesn't it seem to you that he seems kind of older?' Jane asked delicately.

'Mum, he's almost a year younger than me,' Hermione replied, but she knew exactly
what her mother was talking about.

'Not physically, Hermione dear,' Jane responded, looking her daughter in the eye.
'I'm talkng about his behaviour, the way he carries himself. You would almost think
he's an adult in a kid's body!' she finished jokingly, but it was too late.

Hermione's eyes widened as she clapped her hand to her mouth, barely stifling a shocked
gasp.

Memories of her interactions with Harry over the past two weeks surfaced in her mind. The
responsible way he handled himself ever since she woke up from her coma. The quiet, thinking and
rationalising side he had shown to her. The dark, loathsome shadow of his that she had very briefly
spotted when he was facing off with Malfoy in the train...

His own comments of 'being given the gift of time'. Could it even be possible? An adult
in a kid's body? Hermione's extraordinary mind immediately told her that no, it wasn't
possible, that it defied all logic - but two years of knowing Harry James Potter told her that,
when it came to him, all logic was thrown out of the window.

'Hermione? Hermione?!!'

Hermione shook herself abruptly before she got up with a start.

'Hermione dear, are you alright?' Jane asked worriedly.

'I - I'm fine, mum,' Hermione replied shakily, 'I just wanna be in my room for
some time.'

'Hermione, if it's about - '

'Mum, please,' Hermione said firmly. 'Later.'

Jane's eyes never left Hermione's retreating figure as she trudged her way back to her
room while the latter's mind and heart were furiously discussing the topic of a dreamy green
eyed seeker living under her roof, and whether or not he was a premature version of the young man
he was destined to become in the future.



*



The ride to Thomas Granger's sports club was a short one and the two of them moved into a
vacant court for a couple of practice shots.

'Don't play too many of *our* type of games while you're at Hogarts,
Harry?' Thomas asked forty minutes later, as they cooled off with a bottle of Gatorade. (AN - I
know Gatorade is ''barely there'' in U.K., but I love it so much I can't
imagine drinking any other drink)

'Not exactly,' Harry replied, 'though we do play chess and if you come to think
about it, Quidditch remotely represents basketball.'

'Except for the murderous intercepter who is allowed to pelt the opposition forwards with
rock hard balls at inhuman speeds.'

'Ah, yes, except for that part,' Harry acknowledged.

'So no one's even heard of football, huh?' Thomas asked, inching closer to the topic
that cleared his heart of malicious influence and breathed life into his veins.

'No,' Harry responded,' oh wait, there's a guy in my year who talks about
football and always mentions the need for red cards in Quidditch.'

'Really!' Thomas exclaimed, 'so what about him?'

'Well, his name's Dean Thomas, he's in Gryffindor like Hermione and I, he supports
West Ham or something, he also - '

'What?!' Thomas exclaimed, louder than before. 'Did you say West Ham Club, as in the
club that never even made it close to winning Division, not even one time in its pathetic
history?'

'Er - '

'Did you mean West Ham, as in the club that last won a major trophy a long time ago when
Hermione was still in her diapers?'

'Er, yeah, I guess so,' Harry replied.

'Hmmm.'

There was silence for a minute, before Thomas spoke again.

'Harry, what does 'Newton Heath Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway Football Club' mean
to you?'

'Um - I've never heard of it sir,' Harry responded truthfully.

Thomas groaned loudly and gave Harry a disappointed look. 'What are the youth coming to
nowadays if they have no knowledge of events that bring colour into this otherwise dark world,
events that give the world focus and balance?'

'Huh?' was all Harry managed to offer, before -

'THE RED DEVILS!!' Thomas roared, dropping the entire contents of his drink and
attracting the attention of everyone in a hundred foot radius. Harry looked carefully at his host
for the summer ; Oliver Wood before a new Quidditch season paled in comparision to this.













AN - Well, here it is! A typical ''summer at the Grangers'' story for the next
few chapters. Incidentally, I was planning on brushing over this area as I simply CANNOT write
fluff, but after watching the movie I felt I'd better give a go at the pumpkin pie
goodness.

On that note, I don't think us H/Hr shippers have too much to squirm about over the
Harry/fan girl scenes in the movie - Scene 1 : She ties his *SHOELACES,* Scene 2 - Her
desperate plea 'take my hand', Scene 3 - All they share is a pathetic closed mouth kiss in
the dusty and messy confines of the Room of Requirement. Plus Harry and Hermione's strong
friendship wasn't demolished in the movie as it was in the book and someone as PERCEPTIVE as
Albus Dumbledore thought something was going on between them.

I will not comment on the actions of Severus Snape in the movie. I will not speak about his bone
chilling brilliance in the climax or his seemingly diabolical behaviour throughout which only
covered his true heroics.

Whew! That's it for now.

Btw, today (August 1st) is the 12 year anniversary of Voldemort taking over in *Harry Potter
and the Deathly Hallows*! Well done old chap! Too bad his reign lasted exactly 1 day longer than
a pregnant lady's time period...

Would love it if you guys leave a review on your way out! :)















14. The Truth and Angst of Harry Potter
---------------------------------------





Chapter 14 - The Truth and Angst of Harry Potter





Harry and Thomas had a routine time at the club after the latter's initial outburst,
following which Harry learned that he could kiss all chances of Mr. Granger becoming his
father-in-law goodbye if he even dreamed of rooting for a non-Manchester team.

Even so, it wasn't a bad evening, in Harry's opinion. Thomas seemed to be fairly
pleasant to him and not once did he ask him for details on his friendship with Hermione. He played
a good game of tennis and he also challenged Harry to a friendly game of ping pong. He even
occasionally came up with a wisecrack that would leave Harry in splits.

They stopped on the way back to buy some juice. After guzzling down a fair amount of apple
squash, they drove back home slowly.

'You don't mind if I ask you something, do you?' Thomas asked suddenly.

'Er - no, of course not,' Harry replied cautiously.

'From what I've heard about you, you seem like a great guy. I don't like saying it,
but what I've seen today just reinforces that firmly.'

Harry didn't reply ; he preferred Mr. Granger to do the talking while he would nod
along.

'Please tell me if you have any unfriendly intentions in mind regarding my
daughter.'

*'Unfriendly?!'* Harry thought to himself vaguely, *'How is it unfriendly if
I'm cuddling up with Hermione in the loveseat and kissing her for all she's
worth?'*

'I meant *more than friendly thoughts*,' Thomas verified loudly.

'Oh,' Harry said simply.

'Yeah.'

'Um - well - ' Harry's mind raced furiously. He didn't want to lie, but he
needed to give Mr. Granger the truth in such a way that wouldn't cause him to land up begging
in a blind school.

'I - uh - '

'Come on Harry, I'm not asking you to explain quantum physics to me,' Thomas said
drily. 'I'm just asking if you have feelings for my daughter.'

Harry's eyes closed of their own accord. He was about to say it ; to her dad of all people.
He muttered an almost unhearable 'Yes, I do' and then he waited. Waited for a sharp,
searing pain between his neck and shoulder blades. Waited for the cracking of his spectacles and a
rain of blows upon his face. Waited for a turbulent flow of blood.

Nothing happened.

Looking at the man beside him, Harry saw that he offered no reaction and seemed to devote his
full attention to the road ahead.

Not sure whether that was a good sign or not, Harry fumbled for something to say before Thomas
saved him the necessity.

'So you're crushing on my daughter.'

Harry raised his eyebrows.

'No,' he replied firmly. 'It's more than that. I've known her for sev - for
two years and I would like to think it's a little more than that.' *Much, much more than
that.*

'I see,' Thomas replied. 'Well, I won't interfere if anything happens, but just
remember : she's my daughter.'

'I know that Mr. Granger, I wouldn't even think of - '

'I'm very close to trusting you Harry. I'm not saying you would hurt her or
something but let me just say this, for the record. If you in any way do anything that causes her
even remote physical or mental distress, I swear to God I will inflict upon you the shocking
brutality of all the drilling machinery I've ever come across in my fifteen years of dentistry,
following which I will carry you to the roof of my house and *hurl* your mutilated corpse
down, Darth Vader style, am I clear?'

Harry nodded slowly, all of a sudden he was feeling quite unhinged.

'You do know what I'm talking about right?' Thomas asked suddenly, suspiciousness
clearly evident in his tone.

Harry nodded quickly and spoke, 'Yes, you basically said that if I hurt H - Hermione in any
way, you'll put to good use all the tools from your dental prac - '

'No, I'm pretty sure you understood that part, I was talking about hurling your corpse
down. How is that Darth Vader style?'

Harry raised his eyebrows, this conversation was getting weirder and weirder. Was Hermione's
dad testing his devotion to Hermione or testing his knowledge of blockbuster Hollywood movies?

'Well,' he began slowly, 'technically speaking, it's Anakin Skywalker style,
because by the time he lifted Pal - '

'You're damn right it's Anakin Skywalker style!' Thomas declared emphatically,
the pride in his voice unmistakeable. 'From Sith to Jedi, from darkness to lightness, from
monstrosity to purity...'

Harry's eyes rolled into the back of his head as Thomas drove out the remaining distance
cheerfully. Thomas seemed to have completely forgotten their ongoing serious discussion about
Hermione and Harry was suddenly glad for it.



*



Harry strolled into the Granger household, feeling quite bewildered by everything that had
happened so far in the day.

He took a brief moment out of his time to think about Aunt Marge's dog Ripper and whether or
not he would be dead by now. No, he decided sadly. It would probably be alive and participating in
the burning of his effigy along with the other four Dursleys.

He walked into the dining room only to bump into Hermione.

Feeling slightly breathless all of a sudden, he said 'hi' softly, which she did not
return.

Harry gazed at her curiously ; she seemed to be scrutinising him carefully, as though he were a
particularly juicy Arithmancy equation to be solved.

She pursed her lips before giving him a quick smile.

'Hi,' she said sweetly, perhaps a little too sweet, before she was off on her way.

Harry frowned. Was it his imagination or was she miffed at him for some reason? Chalking it down
to his growling stomach, he shrugged carelessly and made his way to the table.

'How was your time at the club Harry?' Jane asked, as potato dumplings and sauteed
vegetables made their way around the table.

'It was great fun,' Harry answered. 'We played tennis and then we watched some
football.'

'At exactly what point duing your stay at the club did Thomas grill you over the brand of
shampoo that the Manchester United players use and whether they prefer boxers or briefs?'

'Hey!' Thomas cried indignantly. 'I'll have you know that there is another
genuine MUFC fan in this household and you shall treat him with some respect!'

'Of course dear,' Jane humoured her husband. Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Something wrong Poppet?' Thomas asked curiously of his daughter.

'Huh? Oh, um, nothing,' Hermione replied. She didn't even think of admonishing her
dad for calling her 'Poppet'.

'What time is it mum?' Hermione asked.

'It's eight-thirty. What happened to your watch?'

'Oh, I took it off. It never worked properly, I could never trust it to tell me the time. In
fact, I can't trust *anyone* to tell me the truth about time,' Hermione answered
sharply, making sure to look at Harry as she spoke.

Harry looked at Hermione in shock ; she met his stare defiantly, her nose high in the air and
Harry felt himself falling in love with her all over again - was it possible she had actually
figured everything out by herself?

Of course it was, he thought to himself stupidly, she was the Brightest Witch of Her Generation.
But even then he had to admit he was very surprised about the whole thing ; after all it had been
barely a day since he had touched down in the Granger household.

*'Bollocks, what if she doesn't fancy older men trapped in younger bodies?'*
was Harry's first immature thought when he came out of his temporary coma.

He looked at Hermione to see if her expression gave anything away, but he had no luck there. All
she did was put her head down and eat her food silently and whenever she looked up, a guarded,
neutral expression formed itself on her usually soft features.

Thomas and Jane did not miss the escalating tension between the two youngsters at the dining
table. Jane gave Hermione a questioning look and Thomas frowned at both of them.

'Did we miss anything?' Jane asked, not sure to whom her question was directed at -
Hermione or Harry.

'No, mum' Hermione replied firmly, 'just an old school joke of Harry's.'

'Oh, what's it about?' Thomas challenged. Surprisingly, he didn't blame Harry at
all for whatever just happened. He had a feeling his daughter was lashing out at something and she
had Harry nervously dodging on the backfoot.

'Um - ' Harry's eyes darted around the table nervously, but it was Hermione who
answered him.

'Nothing particularly important. It's just some minor fact about his life that Harry
should have told me instead of keeping me in the dark. Harry's a big fan of H.G. Wells,'
Hermione said, in her I'm-Hermione-Granger-and-I-know-everything tone.

'Really!' Jane replied enthusiastically, 'which of his works do you like the
most?'

'Oh, Harry *loves* 'The Time Machine',' Hermione replied quickly before
Harry could even open his mouth, 'he always wishes that he could travel back in time, don't
you Harry?'

Harry froze on the spot, goosebumps erupting all over his arms, a cold dread washed over him as
he knew now for sure that Hermione had guessed his secret and by the looks of things, she
didn't seem to be too accepting of the fact that he was a time-traveller.

'To tell you the truth, I've never laid my hands on any of his books,' Harry replied
quite truthfully. Intelligent, dramatic science-fiction stories never made an appearance in the
Dursley household.

'All right Harry, if you want to play it that way, who am I to object?' Hermione asked
loftily.

'Okay, that's enough,' Thomas loudly. 'If that's their idea of teenage
flirting, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about the fact that they're living
under one roof,' he added snidely to his wife.



*



After bidding Hermione's parents an awkward good-night, Harry trudged up to his room and
closed the door.

Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Tonks and probably Dumbledore. These were the few people he was
planning to tell. Hermione was on the top of that list. And now she had figured it out without him
saying anything. So why was he so morose now? Was it because of a fear of rejection? No, it
couldn't be. Hermione had seen him at his absolute worst, she had seen him as a human wreck, so
how was this any worse?

With that thought in his mind, he opened the door and went out into the dark hallway. He walked
resolutely to Hermione's room and knocked softly on the door.

'Come in,' was all she said and Harry slowly opened the door.

Looking at Hermione almost made Harry forget his purpose of being there. She was wearing pink
pajamas and she had her hair bunched up into a messy ponytail. She had a teddy bear in her lap and
a thick book in her hands and Harry failed to recall anything cuter in his whole life.

On seeing Harry, she quickly discarded the teddy bear and her face reddened slightly, only to go
back to the cool, unfeeling countenance she had worn at the dinner table.

'Um... hi,' Harry said nervously.

Hermione only gave him a peculiar smile and gestured for him to continue.

'I - I guess you figured things out,' Harry said.

'What are you talking about Harry?' Hermione asked innocently.

'You know what I'm talking about Hermione,' Harry replied wearily, as he moved
closer to Hermione's bed.

Hermione watched him warily, but didn't say anything.

'Can I sit?' Harry asked her.

Hermione put her book aside and moved over slowly. Harry took a seat at the edge of the bed and
wrung his hands together nervously.

'I was going to tell you at some point. I mean, how could I not? You're the person I
trust the most in my life, you were on top of my list of people to tell. I guess I waited too long
to actually say it, but I should've known better when it came to you. You obviously manage to
figure out everything and - '

'Harry,' Hermione gently interrupted his rambling. She put a comforting arm on his
shoulder.

'When?'

Harry knew exactly what she meant by 'when' ; there was no need to elaborate.

'May 2nd, 1998,' Harry replied.

'Five years?' Hermione asked curiously, 'not more?'

Harry looked at her in confusion.

'I just imagined you did it as a prank or as an accident,' Hermione said.

'Hermione, I was murdered by Voldemort. The wizarding world including Hogwarts fell to his
Death Eaters,' Harry snapped.

Hermione gasped loudly and covered her mouth with her hands.

'Harry...' she breathed.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The last time he heard his name in that husky tone
was on that cold, unfriendly December evening in the tent ; the one and only time they gave in to
their passion...

'I owe you an apology, Harry, I'm so sorry,' Hermione said, 'when I found out, I
thought you were in violation of something or the other again, I didn't know - '

'You thought I was rule-breaking as usual?' Harry asked, though he was not really
angry.

Hermione looked embarassed. 'It's stupid I know, but Professor McGonagall told me some
time ago that awful things have - '

'Happened when wizards meddle with time. Loads of them end up killing their past or future
selves by mistake!' Harry chuckled.

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked at Harry in shock. 'How do you know
that?'

'As I said, I'm from the future. The most intelligent and beautiful witch I've ever
laid my eyes on helped me a lot and she was the one who once told me that.'

Hermione blushed furiously and looked away from Harry.

'Intelligent maybe, but I'm not beautiful,' Hermione mumbled under her breath.

Harry sighed. 'If that's what you really think, you can keep telling yourself that.
However, anyone even slightly blessed with the gift of sight will tell you how wrong you
are.'

Hermione's face was now beetroot red and she moved away from Harry, who briefly caught the
words 'bushy hair' and 'buck teeth' coming from the blushing girl.

Harry frowned ; hearing Hermione put herself down like that was getting on his nerves.

'So where was I, when you - died?' Hermione asked softly.

'You were the last person I saw before I fell,' Harry replied.

'Oh.'

'You can ask Hermione, I'm still alive. Ask me whatever's on your mind,' Harry
said.

'Is there really a heaven and a hell?' Hermione fired off immediately. 'Is there
someone who actually judges your life and then makes a decision? Does God really exist or do we go
to church for no reason? 'What about - '

'Whoa!' Harry said loudly. 'Do you have to write a thesis on this?'

'You said I can ask,' Hermione pointed out.

'Yeah.'

Harry took a moment to think before he gave his reply.

'Cut it out, you're distracting me,' he said sharply to Hermione, who was tapping
her foot impatiently.

Hermione rolled her eyes and scooted closer to Harry.

Harry spotted this out of the corner of his eye.

'All right here goes. Not exactly, yes and kind of.'

'Care to elaborate?' Hermione asked drily.

'It isn't exactly heaven or hell, but instead every human takes on a physical form that
truly represents their morality ; what their heart really is filled with. For example, Voldemort
turned into a hapless, hideous stunted creature because he made Horc - um - because he made
horrible decisions and did terrible things.'

'So what did you turn up as?' Hermione asked.

'Batman,' Harry replied seriously.

'Harry!' Hermione punched his shoulder, 'tell me!'

'I turned up as myself,' Harry said, rubbing his shoulder.

'Just like that? No deformities, completely unblemished?' Hermione asked
disbelievingly.

'Hermione, do you think somewhere deep down I'm a monster waiting to be
unleashed?'

'NO!' Hermione cried out, 'I meant, I know you're a good person, you're my
best friend, but... nobody's perfect.'

'Well, Merlin and the other chaps must have decided I came pretty damn close,' Harry
smirked.

'Harry...' Hermione said warningly, even though butterflies fluttered in her stomach
when she saw Harry's devilish smirk.

'As to your second question, the answer is yes. There is someone who seems to take a
decision regarding your future after you die. A fat, balding man sits on a rickety chair and is
regularly seduced by a vixen. They talk to us about our life and then they carry the message from
Fate.'

'Fate?' Hermione asked.

'Yeah, he exists. So does Death - I guess.'

Hermione took a moment to absorb everything, before she nodded.

'How bad was it?' she asked. 'If you're not too uncomfortable talking about
it.'

'It was pretty bad. As I told you, Voldemort had taken over Britain and Muggle borns were
being rounded up by the hundreds. The Ministry was full of Voldemort's henchmen and we were on
the run from practically everyone.'

'Because I'm a Muggleborn and they wanted me?' Hermione asked.

'Yeah, and because Voldemort had this crush on me, I was Undesiable Number One. So anyway,
we didn't go to Hogwarts for our seventh year.'

'What did they do with the ones they captured?' Hermione asked.

'They gave them a farce of a trial, relieved them of their wands and then either tortured
them to death or chucked them to the Dementors.'

'That's horrible!' Hermione gasped, 'that's like what the Nazis did to the
Jews!'

'Yeah, it was exactly like that. There's no exchange of good things between the Muggle
world and the wizarding world, but they certainly do have bigotry and corruption in common.
Pathetic.'

'What about Professor Dumbledore, Harry? Where was he when V - Voldemort took over?'

'He left less than two months before Voldemort's coup.'

'Left? You mean - he - no, impossible!' Hermione exclaimed.

'That was my first reaction too when I saw him go plummeting to his death.'

'Plummeting? You mean he fell - '

'I'll just say this once,' Harry snapped, 'it wasn't the long fall or the
sudden stop that killed him, it was the green light he took to the chest just before he
fell.'

Hermione's face showed nothing but horror ; she was hurting Harry deeper and deeper with
every question she asked. She looked at Harry with sympathy, seeing it happen once was bad enough,
now she was forcing him to relive all those memories.

She vowed not to talk about the death and depravity Harry had seen in the future.

Tears formed in Harry's vibrant green eyes and he quickly looked away from Hermione, not
wanting her to see him cry.

*'Kill the spare.'*

*'Avada Kedavra!'*

*'SIRIUS! NO!'*

*'Severus... please...'*

*'KILL ME LIKE YOU KILLED HIM, YOU COWARD!'*

*'Avada Kedavra!'*

*'Harry Potter.. you will lose everything.'*

*'Dobby, don't die, please...'*

*'NO!!!'*

*'Dora, get out of here, Teddy needs someone!'*

*'I won't leave you Remu - AHHH!'*

*'NO! No! Tonks!'*

*'I want to see the light leave your eyes!'*

*'No - no - no! No! Fred! No!'*

*'You will always be alone, Harry Potter.....'*

Harry's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped to the ground ; the memory of
each painful death pummeling his skin like shards of hate, each terrible loss assaulting him like
physical blows.

He felt helplessness and despair taking over him and he crawled into a foetal position, willing
himself to go numb and forget everything.

Hermione was dumbstruck. She knew that with the kind of upbringing Harry had, he was unlikely to
display his emotions or even cry in front of anyone else ; but this was brutal.

He was trying and failing miserably to hold in his sobs of grief and he was shaking as badly as
she did when she was four and there was a storm outside.

'Harry...?' she whispered softly, moving closer to him.

No response.

It seemed he had gone to far in the pool of misery that was his mind. His body seemed to have
wilted, he had gone into a protective shell and Hermione knew that getting a response out of him
now was impossible.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and muttered soft, comforting nothings in his ear.
Rubbing his back softly, she tried getting a reaction from the green eyes she loved so much, but to
no avail.

She pressed a hand to his cheek and gently lifted his head to meet hers. Their faces were mere
centimetres apart and Hermione shivered as his hot breath touched her.

For a brief instant Hermione swore she saw a powerful, unreadable emotion flash in his eyes but
then something in them seemed to snap and Harry quickly moved out of her arms and ran out of the
room.





AN - Didn't mean to make it so angsty at the end, but I think it's natural for Harry to
have a major breakdown after all he's been through in canon. Probably also due to the fact that
I finished this on Sunday evening, which along with Monday morning - is a very depressing time of
the week.

Review!!! ( I got barely 20 for the last chapter, hint, hint...)







15. Drafting a New Beginning
----------------------------





Chapter 15 - Drafting a New Beginning





Harry crashed into his bed, barely aware of his surroundings. Somewhere in the back of his mind
he was aware that he just had a major breakdown, one that had been in the making for more than
seven years.

He was also dimly aware of the fact that he had left a slightly stunned Hermione back in her
bedroom, with no explanation at all. Shrugging it off, he turned and tossed under the covers and
finally fell into an uneasy slumber.

He had bad dreams that night. At first, it was the lingering after-taste of his breakdown, but
then they changed.

*It seemed to be similar to what he had seen in Gringotts, only this time with a magnifying
glass present over the whole scene.*

*'You betrayed our legacy, you led two of our own to unceremonious deaths, but will you
kill me directly old friend?' the taller man wheezed.*

*The shorter man advanced upon him, a bare shadow of the good person he once was.*

*'You d - don't know what I'm c - capable of!' he stuttered.*

*The taller man closed his eyes in pain, as he felt his strength slowly slipping away from
him.*

*'A half-breed, with abnormal human strength, and you're weakening?' the second
man asked mockingly.*

*'You don't have to do this. We can still move over your past crime.'*

*Now the shorter man seemed more reluctant than ever to make a move. Tears streaming
desperately down his face, he shouted desperately, 'You can't move on! He certainly
won't forgive me, not after what I did to his life.'*

*'Do you know that for sure?'*

*The shorter man looked at his fallen enemy uncertainly, as if trying to come to a decision.
But then his face hardened, showing none of the emotion he was feeling inside.*

*'It doesn't matter, I am powerful enough now and the Dark Lord will taste unmatchable
power once again!' with that he pulled out a powerful dagger and held it in front of the
man's face.*

*The man closed his eyes in resignation, bracing himself for the impale.*

*'Your biggest weakness, isn't it?'*

'NOOOO!!!' Harry roared out, as he woke up convulsing violently. Jumping out of his bed,
he pulled his wand out and thrust it wildly in front of him, looking every bit the homesick,
paranoid soldier. Sweat was dripping down his face and his eyes were bloodshot.

Although he could see and hear everything going on in his dream, the darkness of the eerie
summer night prevented him from glimpsing the identity of the two people in battle. Even their
voices seemed familiar, but Harry just wasn't able to match it with any of the people he
knew.

He was panting loudly by now and he hoped to dear God that no one in the house woke up because
of his screams.

He stumbled weakly out of his bedroom and headed down to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He didn't know that Hermione had woken up to his moaning and screaming and she had gone in
to check on him. He didn't know that she had seen his pasty white face and the dead, defeated
expression in his emotionless eyes.

Most of all, he didn't know that she spent the next hour and a half crying herself to sleep,
for the second time that night, because of overwhelming guilt over the fact that she had ruined him
with her incessant questioning.

*

The next day seemed to be a reflection of Harry and Hermione's moods, as rain was pelting
down furiously. Hermione's parents decided to stay in and go to work in the afternoon, so they
rescheduled their morning appointments.

After a quiet breakfast, during which Harry and Hermione spoke only to the latter's parents
and cautiously avoided each other, all four of them headed to the living room to watch a movie.

'So what are we seeing today?' Jane asked.

'Star Wars!' Thomas exclaimed with a maniacal grin on his face.

'No!' two loud voices of protest came immediately from the Granger women.

'Fine,' Thomas grumbled, 'it takes you women hours to choose, so give me a shout
when you're ready. I'll be in my study.'

Jane shook her head fondly at her husband's antics and then turned to Hermione.

'Why don't the two of you pick something out, I'll be right back,' Jane told the
two teenagers pointedly.

And before they knew it, Harry and Hermione were alone.

Meanwhile, the two adults were having a heated discussion upstairs.

'Are you telling me you didn't notice anything off between the two yesterday night and
today at breakfast?' Jane asked her husband.

'They're kids, they have spats, they ignore each other from time to time, what's the
big deal?'

'I'm saying something serious happened between them. They were fine before both of you
left for the club yesterday, but now things seem almost icy. Not to mention Hermione's eyes
were red and puffy at breakfast. She might have tried washing any evidence away, but I'm her
mother. I know when she's been crying.'

'She's a teenager. Teenagers do crazy things all the time. After pregnant women,
they're the masters of mood swings.'

'Are you taking potshots at me?' Jane asked dangerously.

'No, no of course not honey,' Thomas said insincerely. 'Everyone knows you were the
sweetest, most reasonable woman during your pregnancy,' he finished sarcastically.

Jane pursed her lips but allowed her husband to continue.

'Listen,' Thomas started, 'I may sound like a rotten person, but I prefer them being
friends and ignoring each other from *time to time* rather than being attached at the mouth
and making gooey eyes at each other *all the time*.'

'Okay, but just tell me something. You're pretty sure they both fancy each other
right?'

'Um, yeah, why do you ask?'

'Well, if this kind of two-way silence is maintained for a long time, it invariably leads to
sexual tension and they'll be liable to do something much more than making gooey eyes and being
attached at the mouth,' Jane said wisely.

'WHAT?! No bloody way, our bedroom is right across from their rooms, how would they even
think of doing that? They wouldn't dare...' Thomas growled.

'You underestimate the power of a teenager's hormones.'

'No kidding,' Thomas replied, as he took a memory trip back to his own childhood.
'Come on, let's go down, hopefully we have a good movie to watch.'

'And you'll be sleeping on the sofa for your jibe about my pregnancy dear,' Jane
said sweetly.

'What?! On the sofa! Stop acting like my wi - '

Jane raised her eyebrows and Thomas stopped himself in time.

'I don't mind sleeping on the sofa honey,' he said obediently.

'Hmmm,' she said in approval, 'don't go down just yet.'

'Huh? Why?'

'Just stay here for a couple of minutes. I would like to give them some time alone to solve
whatever's going on between them.'

'Oh yeah, I understand that. They can't do that over the next one and a half
months.'

'Honey, do you want to make the sofa time last one and a half months?'

*

'So what movie do you wanna watch?' Hermione asked.

'I don't mind anything, just pick what you want,' Harry replied distantly, not
looking at Hermione.

'Come on over , I'll show you what we have,' Hermione said.

She pointed to the third rack behind the T.V. and Harry opened it slowly.

Hermione stood behind Harry as she watched him shuffle through their movie collection. She was
sure he was avoiding eye contact with her and speaking only when necessary.

And he had every right too. Instead of taking things in stride, she had bombarded him with
painful questions and forced him to relive his worst memories.

'Harry?' she ventured softly.

'Hang on a sec,' he replied.

Hermione closed her eyes and bit her lips nervously.

'Harry, will you please look at me?' she repeated.

Harry turned slowly and his eyes met hers ; he could clearly see apology in her brown orbs. He
sighed. He wasn't angry at her. He knew she was inquisitive and always hungry for knowledge, it
was one of the things he loved about her.

'Yeah?' he asked cautiously.

'I, I'm sorry about - '

'Don't,' Harry interrupted.

'What?'

'You don't have to apologise,' Harry said.

'But, I...' Hermione trailed off uncertainly, not sure whether she wanted to tell Harry
that she had snuck up on him in the middle of the night and seen him thrash about in the fits of a
nightmare.

'I've been through a lot of shit in my old life and I'm just as likely to go through
a lot of it here as well, only I'll be much better prepared to handle it. If you want distance,
I can't say I blame you.'

'Harry, of course I want to be with you, I don't - '

'Well, you should take some time to think about it. Being associated with me is gonna have a
lot of repercussions.'

Harry turned away from her but Hermione roughly pulled him around.

'This is one thing I'm certain about. This is one thing I don't need to think about,
I want to be with you,' Hermione said passionately.

'You want to be with me?' Harry asked teasingly, 'boy, I don't have a problem
with that, but we're under your parents' roof, you know.'

Hermione's face went as red as a tomato as she realised what she said and she hastened to
correct her mistake.

'N - No, no, I meant be with you - as in friends, b - best friends...'

'Well that sounds nice doesnt it? Harry and Hermione, good friends - no chance of anything
more,' Harry said.

A hurt look came in Hermione's eyes and she looked away from Harry, too distraught to say
anything.

'Well?' Harry asked, praying that Hermione would offer something more than the 'best
friends' crap.

'Oh yes Harry it sounds great. We're like siblings,' Hermione lied through her
teeth.

Harry sighed. It was like one step forward and then two steps backward with her.

Running his hands through his hair in frustration, he looked at her for a quick moment and then
made his decision.

Lifting her chin up roughly, he forced her to meet his eyes.

She did not look startled by his sudden aggression. In fact, she looked defiantly back at him,
her brown eyes searching the depths of his green ones.

'Prove it,' he hissed, stepping into her personal space.

'Prove what?' she demanded, unwilling to step back and allow Harry the upper hand.

'Prove that we're not meant to be anything more. That we're best off as
siblings,' Harry challenged.

'I don't have to prove anything. You're the one who said we're good friends and
there's no chance of anything more,' Hermione shot back.

'Well, I wasn't the one who compared us to siblings. That was you!' Harry retorted
loudly.

'Don't bring this on me Potter! I said that so I wouldn't have to contradict you. I
was just going along with what you bloody said first!'

'Yeah because Hermione Granger always speaks according to other people's words,
she's too shy to speak her own mind, isn't she?!' Harry snapped sarcastically.

'Save it,' Hermione growled and she marched off, her uncontrollable hair bobbing up and
down as she went.

Harry cursed out loudly before he took his selection and sat down heavily on the sofa, waiting
for the whole Granger family to make their appearance.

But then Hermione came back into the room, a determined look in her eye as she made directly for
Harry.

She slowly took the movie from Harry's hand and placed it on the coffee table and then she
sat down plum on top of him!

Harry's eyes widened as Hermione took a moment to make herself comfortable in his lap,
before she turned to him with an unreadable look in her eyes and she breathed,
'Harryyy...'

Harry gulped as Hermione looped her arms around his neck and inched her head closer to his.

Just as Harry thought Hermione was about to go past the point of no return, she stopped ; her
lips mere centimetres from his face and she took a moment to observe his face intensely.

'Why are you sweating Harry? I'm just your big sis here to be your best friend.'

With those taunting words, she deliberately moved her lips over his and kissed him on the
cheek.

She then unwrapped herself from him and sat to his side, just in time too, for her parents
walked into the room right then.

Harry considered himself lucky that he didn't slip into a coma then and there.

'What movie did you pick?' Thomas asked enthusiastically as he sat down on the other
sofa with his wife.

Harry showed him the cover. It was *Die Hard.*

Two simultaneous groans and one loud cheer sounded out from the Grangers as Harry started the
movie, nervously watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye.

Luckily for Harry, the next two hours of John McClane's battle with a terrorist who funnily
enough, looked like Severus Snape, was interesting enough to make him forget about his earlier
predicament with Hermione.

*

'Thank god!' Jane exclaimed, relief clear in her voice as she stood up and
stretched.

'For the rest of this summer, Harry and Dad don't get to pick the movies,' Hermione
echoed.

'You have great taste Harry,' Thomas congratulated the teenager, as he sat back
leisurely.

'Want to make it a double feature?' Harry asked.

'Sounds great, what have you got?' Thomas asked, sitting up.

'Die Hard 2!' Harry announced, shaking two fingers at Thomas.

'Yeah!!' Thomas agreed, giving Harry a high five.

Jane gave Thomas the same look that Hermione gave Harry ; a dry, withering glare.

'Or perhaps later,' Thomas backtracked, to which Harry nodded fervently.

'Lunch will be ready in half an hour after which you kids will be alone, we're heading
off to work, all right?' Jane told Harry and Hermione.

Both the teenagers nodded and made their way upstairs.

'So what do you wanna do?' Harry asked, sticking his hands in his pockets.

'Um... how does some homework sound?' Hermione asked nervously.

'Uh... okay I guess, as long as we don't end up doing it the whole day,' Harry
replied, then clamped his mouth shut as he realised how that sounded.

Hermione smirked at Harry and walked into her room.

Within ten minutes, Harry and Hermione were down to their necks in their essays, Hermione in
particular in full-blown study mode, not entertaining any disturbances.

Harry took this opportunity to observe his best friend carefully.

He didn't feel he could possibly tire of it. Watching her bite her lower lip when the words
she wrote didn't come off exactly as she wanted it. Watching her scrunch up her nose in
frustration if she didn't quite follow whatever she was reading. The deft way her ink-stained
fingertips would brush out an errant curl from her beautiful face...

'Poppet!' Thomas shouted out from downstairs.

'Not now!' Hermione shouted back from behind a pile of books.

'Did you take the paper up with you?!' he continued.

Hermione pursed her lips in frustration and looked around.

'Yes! It's in my room!'

'Can you please bring it downstairs?!'

Hermione grumbled mutinously. Then she spotted Harry and brightened up.

'Harry, can you give the newspaper to my dad please?' she asked softly.

Harry who was initially about to refuse and tell Hermione to go down and give it herself, looked
up and saw Hermione's pouty lips and her big, brown pleading eyes.

'Sure,' he said dreamily, as all protest died down in his throat.

Hermione smiled at him in thanks and continued her essay.

Harry picked the newspaper up and left Hermione's room.

He stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes caught that day's headlines :



*HIGH SECURITY PRISON ESCAPE*

*Edinburgh, July 17 : A top security prison here in the North Sea witnessed its first ever
breakout in the early hours of Monday morning, our correspondent reported. Higher authorities in
charge of the prison, who usually maintain a stoic silence when asked to comment on security
measures at the prison and the nature of crimes committed by the inmates who reside there,
communicated for the first time with the outside world. A breakout of its most high profile
prisoner, a man named Sirius Black, prompted action from the Prime Minister himself, who has
ordered a nationwide hunt for this man. The records obtained on Sirius Black's past state that
he allegedly killed thirteen people on the street with his own personal rifle, following which he
laughed and fled the scene, only to be caught hours later and deported to prison, where he has been
staying for the last thirteen years - until last night.*

*For more details on Sirius Black including photos, please turn to Page 13.*



And now a broad grin unfurled itself on Harry's face. He felt euphoria wash over him as he
read the article again and turned to the mentioned page. Looking back at him was the face of the
very much alive Sirius Black, a man he had not seen for more than two years.

Harry handed Thomas the paper and made his way back to Hermione's room, a smile still
present on his face.

'Why are you so happy?' Hermione asked bluntly.

'A man declared guilty for mass murder escaped a top security prison last night and is
looking for me,' Harry replied nonchalantly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

'Sirius Black?' she questioned, 'the man who b - betrayed your parents?'

'Yes and no,' Harry replied cryptically.

'I don't know what I'm missing, but I read something about his crimes in *Great
Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.* How could you be happy that he's
escaped?'

'Because now he can come back and live as my godfather and the man who *did* betray my
parents can take his place in prison?'

'Is this something you discovered in your o - other life?' Hermione asked softly,
suddenly very reluctant to continue the conversation*.*

'Yeah,' Harry replied.

'Oh,' Hermione replied and she quickly turned back to her book.

Harry could clearly sense that Hermione wanted to ask more questions, but she was afraid to do
so.

'You can ask me anything you want you know,' Harry said gently. 'It's just that
there are a lot of painful memories for me of that life, nightmares that are too painful to think
about, let alone describe.'

Hermione nodded sadly and then asked a question that Harry had been dreading since the previous
night.

'What's our relationship like five years down the line? Are we as close as we are
now?'

Harry closed his eyes for a long moment.

Hermione waited for two whole minutes, but when it was clear no answer was forthcoming from
Harry, she timidly spoke out, 'It's ok if you don't want to answer that Harry. You can
tell me whatever you're comfortable telling.'

Harry finally opened his eyes and looked at Hermione.

'Are we as close in five years as we are now?' he began, 'I would say yes and no. To
tell you the truth, we became one being on a cold December night out in the wilderness. Our hearts
beat as one and at one point we simply *needed* each other to continue surviving, to go on
living. But we coerced ourselves into different things, into far more glamorous ideas, when we
couldn't realise the truth that pure love isn't beautiful and easy, it's natural and
complicated.'

Hermione watched as a few tears leaked out of Harry's eyes much as he tried controlling
them. But this time it was different. Hermione felt her own tears dripping down her face ; even
though she didn't know the specifics of their future relationship, she could feel the angst of
it radiating from Harry's intense explanation.

'We threw away the kind of relationship that would've lasted an eternity, all because of
our arrogance and stupidity, because I was too blind to see what was in front of me all
along...'

'Harry...' Hermione breathed, and it was like she Apparated into his arms. Her arms
wrapped themselves tightly around his neck as he held her petite frame with his own strong hands ;
it seemed that all they were doing was sobbing for dear life and hugging each other when they
suddenly pulled apart to realise that their lips had just made contact for the first time.

Hermione pressed a finger to her lips in wonder as she looked at Harry through tear-stricken
eyes.

Harry gently pulled her finger aside and slowly traced the curve of her rosy lips with his index
finger.

Hermione watched Harry's surprising tenderness as he caressed her lips and then cheek and
then as he ran his hands through her wild hair, gently drawing her head in for another embrace.

She felt herself giving in without complaint and this time they stayed like that for a bit
longer, savouring a new, foreign experience, something they had been dreaming about for a long
time.

Hermione's hands framed his face possessively and all they did was look at each other for an
entire minute before Hermione turned away shyly.

'D - Did we just k-k-kiss?' she looked down nervously and Harry knelt down in front of
her and brushed her hair out of the way so he could get his much needed glimpse of her beautiful
face.

'We kissed more than a minute ago. Is the brightest witch of her generation so slow on the
uptake?' Harry asked teasingly.

Hermione giggled softly.

She looked at him warmly for another moment, and Harry hugged her again, trying his best to wash
off any of her insecurities, along with his own.

'Um... Harry?' Hermione asked tentatively, testing the waters between them.

'It's ok if you wanna go back to homework, we can talk about this later,' Harry said
amusedly.

'No!' Hermione squeaked, 'it's not that...'

'Then what is it?' Harry asked patiently.

'Can we k-ki- do that again sometime?' she blushed.

'We can do that whenever you want,' Harry affirmed.

Hermione nodded and then asked him, 'so does this mean we're d - dating?'

'Hermione, I'm not an expert on relationships. Do you want this to mean we're
dating?'

Hermione muttered a quick 'yes' and Harry grinned broadly.

'Then we're dating,' he said simply.

Hermione smiled and then added happily, 'I can't wait to tell mum and dad about
this.'

Harry's eyes widened and he looked at Hermione in fear.

'We don't have to tell them immediately,' he said.

'Let's tell them tomorrow at breakfast,' Hermione decided, 'that way will be
more convenient.

'Fine with me. But we're telling them that we've only held each others' hand and
pecked each other on the cheek *once*.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and helped Hary up.

'Kids, lunch is ready!' a loud voice shouted out.

Harry and Hermione wordlessly went down hand in hand, both of them silently wondering whether
the other liked the feel of holding their hand.





AN - The third chapter posted this month! Don't I usually post one chapter every three
months?! :)

Well, please, please review and tell me what you thought of the second half of this chapter and
whether I should bother writing any more fluff in this story...







16. Unloading an Old Man's Soul
-------------------------------





Chapter 16 - Unloading an Old Man's Soul





Harry made his way downstairs, Hermione's hand still entwined in his. Feeling nervous at the
thought of holding her hand in front of her parents, he gently tried removing his hand from her
grasp.

For a fraction of a moment, Hermione's hand tightened around his reflexively, as if
unwilling to let go. She gave him a brief, hurt look and Harry quickly explained to her.

'If we're telling your parents tomorrow, I don't think we should walk in there
holding hands, should we?'

'No,' Hermione mumbled. She flashed him a quick smile and walked ahead of him to the
table.

Harry smiled to himself, before he followed her at a leisurely pace.

Lunch was quiet, everyone focusing more on satisying their hunger than making conversation.
Harry and Hermione exchanged quick glances at each other occasionally, not daring to maintain eye
contact for more than a few seconds.

Thomas didn't notice anything different between the two, but Jane certainly did. She decided
not to do anything at the moment, for she and her husband were already late for work.

Before leaving, Jane asked for a quick moment with Harry and Hermione.

'Are you both going to be alright on your own?'

'Yes, we will,' came two straightforward replies, reeking of innocence in their own
right.

'Okay, there are leftovers in the fridge and you know where to reach me.'

'Can we order pizza if we get hungry again?' Hermione asked.

'I don't see why not, but we'll be back well before dinner, so I don't see how
you could get so hungry within five hours.'

'Okay,' Hermione replied timidly.

'Besides,' Jane continued, turning her back on them and making her way out of the house,
'what can you possibly get upto that will make you so hungry?'

Hermione blushed and Harry snorted. Both of them had a vague idea of a few things they could get
upto.

After another two minutes, they found themselves alone.

'So what do you wanna do?' Hermione asked.

'Well...' Harry began, 'we could do a couple of things that would enable us to be
hungry enough for that pizza you were talking about.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked away from him.

'Maybe in five years if we're still dating,' she muttered.

'You don't think we'll still be dating in five years time?' Harry asked in
surprise.

'A lot of things could happen in five years.'

'Such as?'

'I don't know, you're the one from the future, you should be telling me the
answers,' Hermione replied.

'Yes, but you know everything, so you could enlighten me as well,' Harry said
seriously.

'You really think so?' Hermione asked shyly, slightly flattered by Harry's
words.

'Well, not exactly,' Harry replied carefully.

Hermione's shy smile turned into a glare.

'Well, you can't fly,' Harry pointed out.

'And I can't cook either,' Hermione grumbled under her breath.

'Really?' Harry asked teasingly, 'I thought Miss
I'm-perfect-at-potions-and-everything-to-do-with-it would have no trouble whipping up a good
meal!'

'Shut it,' Hermione growled, digging him in the ribs.

Harry caught her hands before she could move away.

Looking into her eyes with humour and love twinkling in his own, he asked, 'you seriously
can't cook?'

'No,' Hermione replied stubbornly. 'I tried using the stove after I got my Hogwarts
letter.'

'After you got your Hogwarts letter?'

'Well, mum and dad weren't too eager to send me off into an unknown world they had no
idea of, so I tried impressing them.'

'By causing a gas explosion?'

'No, silly!' Hermione scolded, 'I tried making them some tea.'

'Aaaand?' Harry prodded.

'It didn't work out.'

'Hmmm.'

'Anyway, I've been forbidden from going anywhere near the stove and when I'm alone,
I have the leftovers from the fridge or I call for home delivery.'

'Oh.'

'I can serve microwave popcorn though!'

'That's cool.'

They sat down on the sofa, facing each other. For a while, neither of them spoke.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Hermione asked, 'what're you thinking
about?'

'Aunt Marge,' came the flat reply.

'Oh, that's nice,' Hermione harrumphed, 'your girlfriend's sitting right
beside you and all you can think about is your *aunt*.'

'No, it's not that. I had a lot more fun with her the last time around. This time I
barely got to interact with her.'

'What did you do to her?' Hermione asked accusingly.

'I blew her up.'

'YOU BLEW HER UP?!! You KILLED her, what were you - '

'I didn't kill her, for Christ's sake, I just blew her up!'

'Please elaborate, you're not convincing me at all,' Hermione said.

'Well, it was my accidental magic, I think, that engorged her from the size of a room to
that of a house and she ended up floating fifty feet high in the air for the whole
evening.'

For a moment, Harry thought Hermione had gone into a coma of sorts, and the only indication he
had to the contrary was the fact that she hadn't yet fallen face first onto the floor.

Harry waved his arms in front of Hermione, but she continued looking at him unflinchingly.

After a moment during which Harry plucked up his courage, he darted forward and planted a quick
kiss on her cheek.

That brought Hermione out of her reverie. With one hand touching her cheek in surprise, she
finally spoke, 'so were you expelled?'

'Huh?'

'Were you expelled for using magic? It *was* the second time, wasn't it?'

'Um... yeah and no. I was pardoned by the Minister because they were too worried about my
safety 'cause Sirius had escaped some time ago.'

'The Minister himself?!' Hermione said with awe, 'that must - '

'Yeah, that was probably the only useful thing the dumb dork did.'

'Harry, he's the Minister of Magic! You can't - '

'You can't possibly understand the crap he did and the hell he and his lackeys put me
through for three years.'

'Oh,' Hermione said sadly, 'I'm being really inconsiderate of this whole time
thing, aren't I?'

'No... you're reacting much better than I would have expected anyone else to. Just try
to remember that I know some things you don't and not to jump at things because of their face
value.'

Hermione nodded in reply.

'So where were we? Oh yeah, Aunt Marge... Can you pass me the telephone, Hermione?'

'Okaayy,' Hermione said uncertainly, sliding the set over the table to Harry.

Harry dialled and waited.

'Hello?' the gruff voice of Uncle Vernon spoke.

'Hi, I'm Auror McNally from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,' Harry said
in a high-pitched voice. 'Is this the current location of a Marjorie Dursley?'

'THE FREAKS! Who is this and what do you want?! Stay away from - '

'I would like to remind you that you have twenty five concealed and highly armed wizards
surrounding your property. Let me check my MAGICAL records... you live in Surrey, am I
right?'

'Just tell me what you want with my sister and leave me and my family alone,' Vernon
snarled, but there was no disguising the fear in his tone as he peeked out behind the curtains to
see if he could spot the ''concealed and highly armed wizards''.

'I'd advise you not to look out behind the curtains, Mr. Dursley,' Harry said,
guessing that his uncle was doing exactly that. 'We have shoot on sight orders to bring down
Marjorie Dursley, who has been acccused of a Class A crime and is already facing lengthy
imprisonment.'

'WHAT??!! HOW DARE YOU! Marge is as normal as us and we have nothing to do with your kind
and we never will! NOW STOP - '

'Mr. Dursley, if you continue to emit noise in that despicable manner that you are
accustomed to, I will have no choice but to fire, and trust me, our weapons are not as
unsophisticated and primitive as your missile launchers and panzers.'

'TELL ME WHAT MY SISTER DID, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO LAUNCH ARMS AGAINST A PEACEFUL, NORMAL,
MIDDLE-INCOME FAMILY!'

'The crime is as drastic as someone threatening your queen. Marge Dursley has been charged
with the serious *dislike* and *disrespect* of one of the wizarding world's
wealthiest and most prominent citizens, Lord Harry Potter!' Harry said as seriously and
solemnly as he could. Hermione hit him hard on the head with her copy of *The Elementary Book of
Spells, Grade Three.*

'DISLIKE AND DISRESPECT?!' Vernon bellowed, before he remembered the freak's threat
and lowered his voice. 'So that's a bleeding crime now?! What is he, the future King of
England? Or is he the next Pope?!'

'The Vatican doesn't exactly approve of our noble arts, however, we would be honoured if
he would one day consent to being our King,' Harry said as modestly as he could. 'Coming
back to the point, I have to tell you that we are carefully monitoring the situation and your house
will be under constant surveillance for the duration of Miss Marjorie's stay. We have taken the
same precautions with her own residence in Ipswich, hasn't she ever mentioned this to
you?'

There was a sound of incoherent sputtering on the other side and Harry muttered a quick
'good evening' before he broke out into peals of laughter.

Hermione however, remained stern, although it looked like she was trying to hold back a
smile.

'Do you really think your uncle is stupid enough to believe that? He's going to go
mental when he finds out the truth.'

'Well, I'm playing on his outrageous fear of anything remotely magical ; I doubt
he'll be thinking properly in the first place. Nope, he's going to question Marge and after
that he'll be the head of a paranoid and neurotic family for two weeks or however long
Marge's staying.'

Hermione just stared at him.

'How many hours of sleep do you reckon they'll get every night? Two? Three?' Harry
grinned.

Hermione shook her head disapprovingly. 'That's petty Harry. Very petty.'

'Well, what's over is over. You can't stop these things.'

'Yes, I can, I'm your girlfriend, aren't I?'

'So you get to control what I do?' Harry asked indignantly.

'Yup,' Hermione nodded matter-of-factly.

'That's what I was afraid of,' Harry muttered.

Hermione swatted the back of his head.

They had barely studied for another fifteen minutes, when Hermione dropped the next
bombshell.

'Harry, you said V-Voldemort took over the Ministry right, in your seventh year?'

'Um... yeah... what of it?' Harry asked cautiously.

'Didn't he die that Halloween night when you were a baby?'

Harry thought for a long time before he answered.



*



'D-Did you get a letter from Ron yet?' Hermione tried her best to make conversation with
Harry during dinner. Her mind was still reeling from everything Harry had told her that
evening.

Horcruxes. The word itself gave her goosebumps. And there was a monster out there who had not
only spoken the word, but he had created them ; seven times at that.

'Nope, but you know how long he takes to write,' Harry replied.

'Where did they go again?' Jane asked.

'Egypt, to see their oldest son Bill,' Harry replied for Hermione. He had a feeling that
he made a mistake telling a fourteen year old about the darkest variety of magic that even fully
grown adults had trouble comprehending.

'Hmmm, that'll be a really fascinating tour,' Thomas commented.

'Yeah.'

'Poppet, are you alright?' Jane asked, looking curiously at her daughter who had barely
touched anything on her plate.

'I'm fine,' Hermione said softly.

'You've barely eaten,' she pointed out.

'I'm fine, I'm just not too hungry.'

'You wanted pizza in the afternoon but you didn't eat anything then either.
Hermione?'

'I -, I'll just go to sleep now, good night!' she managed before she ran out of the
room.

Three dumbstruck people watched her go with their mouths wide open, till the youngest one
dropped his utensils and got up in a flash.

Hermione's parents looked at him, wordlessly asking him for an explanation but he wasn't
about to tell them that Hermione's sudden bout of depressing behaviour was a result of her
being associated with him and his morbid tales.

'I'll just go see if she's alright,' was all he offered.

Strangely enough, he received two understanding nods from Hermione's parents and that was
all he needed.

Back at the dining table, two adults who were both deep in thought silently finished their
dinner and got up to wash the dishes together.

'You do know they're dating, don't you?' Jane remarked casually to her
husband.

'What?! They can't be. I think they would've told us something like that,'
Thomas said, shaking his head at his wife.

'We'll probably be getting an announcement sometime tomorrow, they'll wait till
we're both in a good mood.'

'How does that matter? I doubt that we'll be killing one of them if they break the news
to us when we're in a bad mood.'

Jane sighed loudly. 'Have you noticed that Hermione has been having a lot of mood swings in
the last two days?'

Thomas nearly dropped a dish in fright. 'W-Why a-are you telling me all that? I - I thought
women could - could take care of all that *stuff*.'

'What are you talking about?' Jane asked.

'I'm talking about, you know - that time of month, you know - '

'Oh, sweet Moses, I wasn't talking about that!!' Jane exclaimed. 'And even if I
was, heaven forbid you should have any minor details of your only daughter's life!'

'All right, all right, take it easy, you just surprised me with that.'

'What I was saying was, have you noticed that Hermione's moods have been wildly
alternating between great and terrible in the two days that Harry's been here?'

'Kind of.'



*



'Hermione?' Harry cautiously put his hand on Hermione's shoulder.

She wasn't crying or anything, but she certainly looked depressed by Harry's sadistic
explanation of death rituals and soul fragments earlier on in the evening.

She didn't reply ; she looked as if she was meditating over something and Harry knew that
surprising her by kissing her on the cheek wouldn't help matters much this time.

'Hermione?' he called again.

'Harry, please tell me everything,' was the only thing she said, before she went back to
her previous posture.

'Huh? Everything, as - '

'I don't want to know things in bits and pieces anymore. Just tell me your whole life
story from the end of your second year till the day you, you d-died. I want to hear it in one
sitting and after that we can let go. I'm sorry if I sound so brutally frank, but I need to
know what you've been through, I need to know what's happened to you in the last five
years. I need to know if we're going to make this relationship work.'

Harry closed his eyes again ; it seemed as if he had been doing that a lot over the past two
days in Hermione's presence. He was feeling like an old man at the moment, with all the
thinking and brooding.

Finally, he opened his eyes.

In all essence, he had a weary and burdened soul. And he had just made the painful decision of
unloading its entire dark and dreary contents into the innocent soul existing beside him.





AN - Much shorter than usual, I know, but I just felt this was the proper place to end it.

So today (Sep 19th) marks the 30th birthday of Hermione Granger, my second
most favourite character in the Harry Potter series, (And no, my most favourite isn't Harry...)
HB!!

As usual, (please) leave a review on your way out...! :)







17. Laying The Cards Out
------------------------





Chapter 17 - Laying The Cards Out





Harry had his fingers crossed early the next morning ; sincerely hoping that Hermione got a
decent night's rest.

Granted, it was a lot of information she had to take in, as he had practically loaded each and
every one of his burdens and trials onto her.

A part of him felt extremely guilty for doing this ; for encroaching upon her peaceful, innocent
life with his horrifying tales of Horcruxes and Hallows.

Well, not the Hallows.

Not knowing exactly why, he found that he had omitted any mention of the Deathly Hallows and
consequently his account of his would-be seventh year was sketchy at best.

Nor did he tell her of Snape's memories and his last deeds.

He went downstairs to find the three Grangers already at the table.

He looked at Hermione and was slightly surprised to see her looking back at him unblinkingly. In
his opinion, she looked as close to normal as one could get, although she seemed slightly winded by
all that Harry had told her the previous night.

He had a feeling that there was an iota of disbelief in her feelings, as many of his tales
defied all logic and reason (something that the practical know-it-all in her couldn't accept
too easily).

Other than that, her facial expressions and body language seemed at peace with the world, and
this more than anything else assured Harry that she wouldn't have lost too much sleep or had
too many nightmares because of him.

Exhaling loudly, he took a seat besides Hermione.

All four of them were silent as they ate their breakfast, but Hermione kept glancing at Harry as
if she wanted to say something.

After she opened and closed her mouth for the third time, Jane couldn't stand it any longer
and asked, 'something you want to say, Hermione?'

'No!' she blushed, and resolved to kept her head down for the rest of the meal.

Harry, who finally noticed hat Hermione was trying to do, gulped audibly.

He had completely forgotten that they had agreed to tell her parents about the change in their
relationship now.

Clearing his throat loudly, he tried attracting Hermione's attention to let her know that he
was ready. But it looked like she was determined to keep her head down as she wasn't responding
to his silent calls.

He stretched his right hand out under the table and reached for Hermione's.

Instead of meeting her hand as he hoped to, his fingers brushed her thighs and she let out a
loud 'Eep!' in response. He withdrew his hand immediately, feeling mortified.

Thomas and Jane raised their eyebrows suspiciously, although they seemed determined to maintain
the silence.

Harry finally met Hermione's eye. He nodded to her and subtly gestured to her parents.

Hermione, whose face was still red from Harry's contact with her leg, gave him a small nod
and then continued eating.

Ten minutes passed, although it seemed much longer than that to Harry, as he waited for Mr. and
Mrs. Granger to finish their meal so he could bring up the big topic.

As soon as they finished, Harry cleared his throat loudly and stopped them from getting up.

'What is it Harry?' Jane asked curiously. Even Thomas looked at him in interest.

Losing nerve, Harry glanced at Hermione for reassurance, although if he was the guy he claimed
to be, he knew that *he* would have to be the one to break the news to her parents.

'Um... we have something we want to tell you, that is, me and Hermione,' Harry started
off.

'Hermione and I,' Hermione muttered under her breath.

Harry scowled at her.

'Well, what is it? There are people here who have to go to work,' Thomas grumbled good
naturedly.

'Well, um... me and Herm - I mean, Hermione and I, w-we - '

'Harry and I are together,' Hermione blurted out loudly, effectively ending Harry's
rambling.

'TOGETHER! *Together!*' Thomas cried. 'Just what do you mean by
together?!'

'We, um... we've evaluated our friendship carefully and we both came to the same
conclusion that it would be much more meaningful if we turned it into something more ; something
more special than it already is,' Harry said.

Jane nodded approvingly at the boy her daughter had taken a fancy to ; he might have stuttered
and stumbled a lot, but he came through when it mattered the most.

Hermione's face lighted up like a Christmas tree and she beamed at Harry's sweet
words.

Noticing Hermione's wistful look and his own wife's seventy mm smile, Thomas felt
himself lightening up very quickly.

Three people were staring at him, anxiously awaiting his reaction. And to his great surprise, a
genuine smile appeared on his features and he nodded firmly at the young couple.

'Okaay, fine with me, I guess, if you're just dating and nothing else...' Thomas
added awkwardly.

Jane sighed in relief ; she knew her husband had a heart of gold and he wanted only what was
best for his daughter, but he could be incredibly thick-headed and stubborn at times.

Hermione looked pleased. Her father had approved and she hadn't even needed to turn on her
'daddy-i'm-your-only-daughter-so-let-me-have-what-I-want' look. Harry, on the other
hand, looked as though someone had just saved him from the path of an incoming bullet train.

Harry and Hermione exchanged happy and relieved looks and they were all about to get up when
Thomas stopped them.

'Everybody stay put!' he ordered, and they all hastened to sit down.

'What?' Jane rolled her eyes. 'Is it time for the talk again? The one where all
they're allowed to do is sit close and hold hands and nothing else. The one where you'll
kill him if he so much as pecks her on the cheek?'

'Don't be silly. I don't have to mention that again. Harry knows what's coming
to him if he even tries anything as ridiculous as kissing her on the cheek. And they both know
perfectly well that they can't hold hands for more than five minutes. I don't have to
explain that to them. No... what I want to know is, how are we supposed to leave them alone the
whole day?'

'The same way we did yesterday,' Jane responded drily.

'They weren't dating yesterday.'

'Um... Mr. Granger ?' Harry asked.

'Hm?'

'I think I can speak for the both of us when I say that we're mature enough to be left
alone.'

Thomas took a long, hard look at Harry and Harry looked right back before Thomas said,
'I'm pretty sure you are, but it's very easy to lose a grip on that maturity, you know.
You guys are teenagers.'

'Well, if there was someone who could stay invisible and monitor us without bothering us,
would that be okay?'' Harry asked.

'Hmmm, yes, I don't see why that shouldn't work out,' Thomas replied.

'Well...' Harry began hesitantly, he knew Hermione was going to be mad at him for this.
'... I have a friend who fits that requirement.'

'What?'

'Um... he's trustworthy and definitely strong enough to keep us from doing anything
stupid,' Harry said. 'Not that we're planning to do anything stupid,' he added
quickly.

'Who is he?' Thomas asked suspiciously.

'Erm - his name is Dobby,' Harry replied.

'How old is he?' Thomas asked.

'Ummm... I don't know,' Harry replied lamely.

A suspicious look graced Hermione's features and she asked Harry, 'How tall is
he?'

Harry's eyes widened. 'Er - he's around this high,' he said, pressing his hand
against the edge of the table.

A moment of silence, and then -

'A HOUSE ELF?!' Hermione shrieked, 'you're keeping a house-elf?! Oh, that's
just great, because-'

'Hermione, it's not like that, he's more of a friend, he's like-'

'My boyfriend's a ruthless slave-driver. There's no need for a monitor while
we're home alone, Daddy. I don't think we'll be doing anything that teenagers do when
they're alone.'

'Oh, Christ,' Harry muttered.

Thomas and Jane exchanged nervous looks.

'Listen, Hermione I'm not a slave-driver. I consider Dobby a friend and he wanted
employment. I even gave him three simple rules. Never to punish himself, never to call me master
and to accept wages.'

'How much will he get?' Hermione asked.

'That's upto you entirely,' Harry said.

Hermione opened and shut her mouth like a goldfish. A pleased smile appeared on her face.
'Okay,' she muttered.

'Can we see him?' Jane asked nervously.

'Sure,' Harry said. 'Dobby!'

To their credit, Hermione's parents didn't scream out in shock or fall backwards off
their chairs when Dobby appeared and it was with gobstruck expressions that they made their
introductions.

'Dobby, we need you to do something for us, while me and Jane are at work,' Thomas
said.

'Of course sir, what can Dobby be doing for the great Harry Potter's Miss Grangey's
parents?' Dobby said eagerly.

Harry's eyes widened and he quickly looked at Hermione. Hermione tried looking back at him
as nonchalantly as she could, but it was futile. They quickly looked away, blushing.

'We'll need you to keep an eye out on the house while we're gone, you know, make
sure Harry and Hermione don't get upto anything that - '

'Oh no sir! Dobby possibly couldn't interfere in Master Harry Potter sir's private
life, if he and Miss Hermy were to mate, Dobby possibly couldn't - ;

'Dobby! You're gonna get me thrown off the rooftop!' Harry moaned out.

Dobby looked at Harry for a long moment, neither one of them able to comprehend what the other
was thinking.

'Dobby, you're not prying,' Harry said, 'can you just make sure what
Hermione's dad said doesn't happen and we'll all be fine?'

There was a moment of heavy silence and then-

'Dobby will do what Harry Potter asks.' With a snap of his fingers, Dobby vanished.

Thomas, however, still wasn't done.

'How much money do you have Harry?' he asked.

'What?!'

'How much money do you have with you?' he repeated.

'Like... in the bank?' Harry asked dumbly.

'No, not in the bank. What you have over there is none of my business. I meant right now,
here in this house.'

'Err... I don't know really. Not much, as I'm planning to stop by at Gringotts
before I shop for my third year books at the end of the holiday.'

'Hmmm.'

'Why?'

'Oh, nothing really. Surprisingly enough, I trust you around my daughter but there's
nothing to say you won't slip a few gold coins to this Dobby during some crazy moment.'

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Are you done Dad?' she drawled.

'Yes he is dear,' Jane answered for her husband, and they made their way to the living
room.

'You guys can order Chinese for lunch if you want and there's microwave popcorn if you
get hungry in the evening. Will you guys be okay?'

'Yes, mum,' two cheeky voices replied and Jane swatted Harry on the back of his
head.

'Okay, you be good now,' Thomas said, getting into the car.

A few minutes later, they were sitting upstairs in Harry's room, talking quietly.

'Any word from Ron yet?' Hermione asked.

'Nope, not yet. Although he should be sending a note soon through Pig,' Harry
replied.

'Pig?'

'Sorry, I forgot, he doesn't have it yet. I meant Pigwidgeon, that's his owl. He
gets it next year.'

'Oh.'

A comfortable silence developed between them, with Harry skimming through a magazine and
Hermione humming a pleasant tune under her breath while cross-checking her and Harry's
essays.

'Harry?' Hermione started uncertainly.

'Yeah, Hermione?'

'Um... do you know a lot about house elves?'

*Oh, no. I should have guessed.* 'Hermione,' he groaned, 'I treat him as a
friend and I already told you that you can decide how much he's paid.'

'Th - That's n - not what I was talking about,' Hermione mumbled.

'Huh? Then what are you on about?' Harry asked.

'I meant, d - do you know if they follow orders perfectly to a fault or do they overlook
things sometimes?'

'I don't know, I guess they follow instructions perfectly why?'

'Do you want to find out?' she asked.

'How are we going to find out?' he asked.

'Oh, um... we can check to see if Dobby follows what my dad told him earlier today,' she
mumbled.

Harry had to smile at Hermione's phrasing. Approaching the topic with some logical question
that would end up in her getting not only what she wanted, but also giving her some knowledge in
the process.This was a Hermione way, a pure Hermione way of asking him if he wanted to kiss a
little bit and cuddle with her.

And so he proceeded to do just that.

Sure enough, thirty seconds later, a reluctant Dobby appeared with a cracking loud pop that was
more than enough to break them out of their tender embrace.

'Well, I guess they follow orders perfectly,' Hermione growled.

'Dobby is sorry, but Dobby is being ordered to stop Master Harry and his Grangey from -
'

'Mating,' Harry drawled out, 'Dobby, we're not doing anything of the sort. Look
at us. Does it look like we're doing anything adults would do?'

Dobby looked at them sheepishly and muttered something on the lines of, 'Master and Grangey
not be going any further than that,' before disappearing, this time much more quietly than
before.

Harry and Hermione exhanged nervous smiles before they moved apart and continued reading.

'You've become really mature,' Hermione commented.

'Yeah well, you know how that happened,' Harry said. 'A seventeen year old's
mind and soul stuck in the body of a thirteen year old.'

'Does that mean you have the hormones of a seventeen year old as well?' Hermione asked
bluntly.

Harry gulped.

'Well?'

'Yeah, I guess I do,' he said hesitantly, 'but I don't think of that when I see
you,' he added quickly.

'Hmmm, that's okay,' she said, '*why would you?'* she added so softly
he could barely hear her.

'Excuse me?' Harry frowned.

'Nothing, nothing at all,' Hermione muttered.

'I heard what you said,' Harry said sternly.

'Then why'd you ask?' Hermione snapped back.

'That's not important here. I don't like what you said Hermione. If you really feel
that way, I'm sorry I lied to you because the truth *is* when I first saw you in the
hospital wing after I was in the Chamber, I didn't see a cute and giggly fourteen year old
Hermione.'

'Is that supposed to make me feel better? You saying that you don't think I'm
cute?' Hermione said angrily.

'I saw a hot and matured eighteen year old Hermione,' Harry said sharply. 'The one I
knew in my previous life. And when I say mature, I mean mature in all the right places.'

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked at Harry blankly for a long moment, before the
insecure expression on her face gave way to a brilliant smile.

'Really?' she asked.

'Yeah, I didn't tell you before because I didn't want you to think I'm some kind
of perv.'

Hermione laughed softly and moved closer to him.

Stroking his arm softly with her fingers, she whispered, 'no danger of that,' and then
proceeded to kiss him soundly on the lips.



*



'So there's something I've been meaning to ask you,' Hermione said seriously as
she lightly fanned herself with the newspaper.

It was shortly after lunch and they were sitting outside in the front lawn, where the peaceful
summer air was lulling Harry into a lazy slumber.

'Yeah, I'll finish the essay by the end of the week' Harry yawned, struggling to
keep his eyes open.

'You're not even listening to me,' Hermione growled.

'Alright, I'll do it by the end of today, happy?' Harry fell to the side and his
eyes closed.

'I want to be in a threesome with you and Ron!' she snapped loudly.

'Alright, I'll do it, I'll do it now!' Harry shouted out and after fumbling for
a moment for his glasses he opened his book again.

'You'll do what I said?' Hermione asked challengingly, her eyes glinting
wickedly.

'Of course I'll do anything you say darling,' Harry winked and gave her a cheesy
grin and a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Hermione shook her head in amusement. She turned serious. 'I wanted to know something about
the Horcruxes.'

'Did I leave anything out when I first told you about them?' Harry asked.

'No, not exactly. I, uh, just wanna know what you're going to do about them this
time.'

'I'm planning to destroy them like I did last time,' Harry said simply.

'Great answer sailor. When are you planning to find them and destroy them? You said V -
Voldemort comes back at the end of your fourth year. That doesn't sound like a lot of
time.'

'Hermione, that's almost two years,' Harry laughed uneasily. He could easily
understand Hermione's concerns. Standing back, taking things easy and delaying action was not
an admirable decision especially where Voldemort was concerned. He needed to obtain the Horcruxes
and destroy them as quickly as possible. And then there was the much harder task of cleansing the
Ministry of the bigots and Death Eaters, without killing them.

'You've got a point though,' Harry said. 'Now the diary's just been
destroyed, I'm not a Horcrux and the Horcruxes that are easily obtainable are the locket and
the diadem.'

'What about the ring and the cup?' Hermione asked.

'And old Thomas himself,' Harry added with a smile.

'Yeah,' Hermione said unnecessarily.

'Well, the ring and the cup will have to wait for some time, I'm afraid. We can't do
magic outside of school and you can't Apparate so we'll need some adults who we can trust
completely to help us with that.'

'Sirius?' Hermione asked.

'And Remus... and maybe even Tonks,' Harry replied, 'All said and done, no matter
how much I loved them, I didn't spend as much time as I would have liked to with any of them. I
got to know Sirius at the end of my third year, we barely stayed in touch in my fourth, he was
cooped up in that damn house in fifth and he... he d - died at the end of the year, barely two
years to the day I first met him.'

Hermione nodded understandingly. 'Even Remus Lupin too, right?'

'Yeah,' Harry said, 'the only Marauders left. They're all I have of my
parents.'

There was another moment of silence as Hermione allowed Harry to brood silently.

Finaly, when she could stand it no longer, she asked something that had been brewing in her mind
ever since Harry had told her about the order in which Voldemort made his Horcruxes.

'You told me that there were a lot of minor, seemingly insignificant changes that have
happened since the time you came back right?'

Puzzled, Harry simply nodded.

'And you're not a Horcrux right? Are you sure of that?' she asked.

'Well, yeah, I checked when I was down in the Chamber.'

'How did you do that?' Hermione asked curiously.

'Well, I conjured a snake and tried singing to it, but it just slithered away. So I
couldn't talk to it, which means I don't have the Horcrux in me. So then I just vanished it
and conjured a broomstick to come up to the castle level.'

'You can vanish living organisms and conjure naturally charmed objects?! When do we learn
that?!! I mean, I've read upto fourth year level and it doesn't go that far, though I did
miss a few areas in Transfiguration because I was so busy last year with discovering the heir and
brewing the Polyjuice, but it might not be in fifth year either considering all the advanced theory
that we need to learn first to get it right, and - '

'HERMIONE!!' Harry shouted, 'take it easy... You're rambling.'

'Sorry,' Hermione blushed, 'I lost control of myself.'

'That's okay,' Harry chuckled. 'By the way, it's been five years since I was
in second year, but I do vaguely remember transfiguring birds into water goblets.'

'Yeah, but that's because we didn't create the bird, Professor McGonagall handed it
to us and we turned it into a simple, pretty much useless object.'

'A water goblet isn't useless,' Harry said.

'Yes it is, all it does is hold water or any liquid.'

'That's what it's supposed to do,' Harry said, wondering at what point of time
their conversation had gone from intelligent and sensible to dumb and meaningless.

'But it's a Muggle object. You created a broomstick, something that is inherently
charmed to fly and accelerate and slow down and you get the meaning!'

'Yeah, so.. What were you trying to ask me anyway?'

Hermione glared at him and then continued, 'Well, if you're not a Horcrux, then
something or someone had to have become a Horcrux that night he tried to kill you on Halloween. You
said that when his curse rebounded, a part of his soul escaped and latched onto the only remaining
living thing inside the building, which was you. But you're not a Horcrux.'

'So you're saying that something or someone else became a Horcrux that night?' Harry
asked, fear rising in him.

Hermione nodded slowly.

'Do you have any idea?' he asked hopefully.

'Well, maybe it's some object that Voldemort picked up and initially decided to make a
Horcrux out of with your death. I don't think it can be a living thing, because both of you
were the only ones there.'

'Well, that's lovely. Another Horcrux whose identity we have no idea of. Not to mention
we have no clue where to find it and even if we do find it, we have no idea of the protections that
cover it.'

'You're just a bright little ray of sunshine, aren't you?' Hermione asked
rhetorically.

'Well, what I said was actually kinda true,' Harry pointed out.

'It could be that he brought the snake with him that night,' Hermione said.

'And if he did, and it became a Horcrux, what then? It evaded Sirius, Hagrid and whoever
else came to visit my house after that Halloween and slithered away to Little Hangleton or Albania
or wherever the hell it stayed for thirteen years?'

'Yeah, that rules the snake out, doesn't it?' Hermione remarked.

'And at this point of time, the snake isn't yet a Horcrux. Dumbledore said Voldemort
made a Horcrux out of it after he killed Frank Bryce, the Muggle gardener.'

'So how many Horcruxes are there as of now, including the one that's been
destroyed?' Hermione asked, 'there's the locket, the cup, the diadem, the diary,
something he used on Halloween, the ring and Voldemort himself. That's seven.'

'I was an accidental Horcrux and in my old world, he thought that when he created Nagini, he
had seven Horcruxes, although he actually had eight. All along, he wanted seven because it's
the most powerful number. So depending on whether he knew whether he had created a Horcrux that
Halloween night, he's going to make Nagini a Horcrux sometime next year.'

'Which means we have to go to Godric's Hollow and scout around for Horcruxes,'
Hermione supplied.

'We have lots to do,' Harry groaned.

'We still haven't talked about Voldemort's rebirthing party itself and what to do
with the Ministry and its corrupted ranks,' Hermione added helpfully and Harry groaned even
louder.





AN - Well, here it is, in the first week of December (almost)!

One bad thing that's happened to this story is that I lost the notebook in which I wrote
down the basic storyline and all the minor details of the story, and the sad part is that I had
practically handwritten the final few chapters containing the final battle etc etc in that
notebook, so now I'm running off memory and whatever strikes my mind until I write it down
again in a new notebook.

Like promised, the next chapter will be out by the 20th, if not even before... :)

As usual, please review when you're done reading!!







18. Laying the Cards Out - II
-----------------------------





Chapter 18 - Laying the Cards Out - II






*'I was an accidental Horcrux and in my old world, he thought that when he created Nagini,
he had seven Horcruxes, although he actually had eight. All along, he wanted seven because it's
the most powerful number. So depending on whether he knew whether he had created a Horcrux that
Halloween night, he's going to make Nagini a Horcrux sometime next year.'*

*'Which means we have to go to Godric's Hollow and scout around for Horcruxes,'
Hermione supplied.*

*'We have lots to do,' Harry groaned.*

*'We still haven't talked about Voldemort's rebirthing party itself and what to do
with the Ministry and its corrupted ranks,' Hermione added helpfully and Harry groaned even
louder.*







'Harry,' Hermione said sternly,' get serious.'

'Yes, m'am,' Harry drawled.

'About Voldemort's resurrection ceremony,' Hermione began, 'do you remember the
people who attended who were working in the Ministry at the time?'

'Yeah, I think so,' Harry said, thinking hard. 'There were a couple of lackeys like
Avery, Nott, Crabbe Senior and Goyle Senior but Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair were also present
and they are currently department heads in the Ministry. Well, not exactly, Lucius *was* the
head of the Board of Governors for Hogwarts until recently.'

Hermione muttered something darkly under her breath.

'What?' Harry asked.

'How does it happen?' Hermione asked furiously. 'How do unscrupulous, vile bigots
rise to such high positions of power and dictate terms to a whole country based on their evil whims
and fancies?'

'That's just how it is, Hermione,' Harry replied sadly, 'the majority of witches
and wizards in Britain are sheep. They just blindly follow their leaders and when things turn bad,
they run around like bloody rabbits waiting for someone or something to change their own country
for them. For example, they could have done things so differently in the last twelve years since
Voldemort fell. They could have revamped the Ministry, got rid of the Death Eaters who claimed to
be under the Imperius and reformed the Wizengamot to consist of wise, capable people instead of the
ignorant, bigoted people from the Old Families.'

'There are around fifty people on the Wizengamot, right?' Hermione asked.

'Yeah.'

'Are all of them Voldemort supporters?'

'No, it's not like that. Hermione, this world isn't divided into good people and
Death Eaters,' Harry said, echoing Sirius' words from a long time ago. 'There are
people who aren't evil, but they're content to ignore the suffering and abuse of other
people as long as they're leading happy lives. Most witches and wizards in Britain fall under
this category. And there are some people who don't care what group is in power, they don't
care if the common people are being oppressed, as long as they get a share of that power, as long
as they can lord it over other people and bend them to their will. People like Dolores Umbridge.
Now the Wizengamot currently consists of the Minister, a couple of his lackeys, the Chief Warlock,
the heads of various departments and all the bigwigs from the elite pureblood families of old.
Unfortunately, the majority of the Wizengamot consists of people who fall right in between the good
people and the evil Death Eater category, and it's been like that for hundreds of years now.
And that's why magical society is stagnating. That's why people like Voldemort find their
power bases pretty easily and are able to take over the country by military force or through a
quick and silent coup.'

'You told me he took over at the beginning of your seventh year. How exactly did it happen?
Was it a coup d'etat?'

'Well, the actual takeover was a perfect example of a coup d'etat, but he also had a
strong military presence to back him up, to keep stability in the country, not to mention round up
anyone who opposed him.'

'Care to elaborate?' Hermione pressed.

'Well...' Harry started, 'interestingly, his rise to power is frighteningly similar
to the way Palpatine took over the galaxy in Star Wars.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'You turned over to the Dark Side and changed your
name?'

'No,' Harry rolled his eyes. 'Palpatine was just a Senator before he became Supreme
Chancellor. After he became Chancellor, he slowly collected emergency powers and cut down on
democratic rights and eliminated key figureheads that would surely oppose his rule by getting them
killed in the fake war that he set up from scratch. And then, after the main Jedi that could
possibly fight him died, he declared an Empire and started ruling. Voldemort did pretty much the
same with the Ministry. He got a lot of supporters like Umbridge, Thicknesse, Malfoy and Runcorn
into the upper echelons of the Minstry and then he got rid of people like Amelia Bones, Barty
Crouch and Dumbledore and then everything else was a cakewalk.'

Hermione listened to his comparision with interest ; the way he explained it, the two stories
*did* seem very similar.

'So how are you going to avoid a repeat of that this time around?' Hermione asked.

'Well, I can't kill or save anyone till at least Voldemort comes back, and that's
not for another two years at least, so.. '

'Why do you have to allow Voldemort to come back?' Hermione asked, 'Why can't we
just destroy all the Horcruxes and then go to Albania and destroy his snake body?'

'I don't know why, but Jenny from heaven told me to keep that part as it is.'

Hermione snorted loudly.

'What?'

'The way you said it... Hi, I'm Pete from McDonald's. Hi, I'm Jenny from
heaven!'

Harry raised his eyebrows.

'Anyway... there are ways of getting rid of a person which doesn't involve them losing
their oxygen supply,' Harry continued.

'And what may those be?' Hermione asked.

'Putting them in a permanent coma, or having a Dementor suck their soul, or amputating all
four limbs, or - '

'HARRY!' Hermione shouted, her hands going over her mouth.

'What?' Harry asked casually.

'Y - You - You can't do that t - to people,' Hermione said.

'Well, that's where you're wrong,' Harry smiled, 'the way I see it, they
don't pass the test that proves that they're human beings.'

'Harry, they're horrible people. But if you do to them the same things they do to
others, then you're no better than them! It just means you're horrible too!'

'Really?' Harry asked quietly, 'says who?'

'I – um - it's just logic Harry. It's freaking common sense! You can't torture
people just because they're in your way or because they're against your ideals, you have to
stop them and put them in prisonn and - '

'Let me get this straight,' Harry interrupted, 'suppose there's a scuffle
between us and some Death Eaters. Suppose, hypothetically, in one situation I kill a Death Eater
and that makes you pissed off at me because of an anim – er - human rights violation. In another
situation, I either stun or disarm a Death Eater but he gets his wand back or he's revived by
another Death Eater and later on he manages to kill you. Are you telling me you'll die happy
because all I did was stun him and not kill him?'

Hermione opened and closed her mouth without comment.

'Well?' Harry pressed.

'Well, no, I wouldn't be happy, but... but killing is just wrong!' Hermione said.
'We can't do the same things those monsters would do.'

'It's okay if you feel that way. Once upon a time, in all my naivety, I felt that way
too. I realised how wrong I was, how foolish it was to just temporarily eliminate your opponent and
not put him down permanently when you have the chance.'

'I agree with what you're saying but you can't use any means to achieve your desired
ends, no matter how just they are,' Hermione said sternly.

'Well, lucky for you, I'm not allowed to kill anyone,' Harry responded coolly.

There was two minutes of frosty silence between them and just as Hermione was about to get up
and storm away, Harry caught hold of her hand and said, 'This is silly. We've been a couple
for barely a few days and we're arguing about how we should treat an enemy Death Eater when we
come across one?'

Hermione glared at him for a moment.

'You've only read about Voldemort and his Death Eaters in books right?' Harry
asked.

Hermione nodded.

'Well, that's okay I guess. Wait till he comes back and starts murdering poor
Muggleborns left, right and centre. I think even you might end up clamouring for a change in
policy,' Harry said harshly.

'Are you insulting my parentage?' Hermione gasped.

'No!' Harry snapped. 'I'm just giving you a taste of reality! I honestly
don't blame you for thinking this way, believe me I felt the same way too, but it's
seriously not worth capturing Death Eaters and placing them in Azkaban. Have you heard of Antonin
Dolohov?'

'Hmmm,' she offered.

'Is that a yes or a no?' Harry asked angrily.

'It's a yes Potter and this better be good,' Hermione growled.

'He killed scores of Muggles in the first war and he brutally murdered Molly Weasley's
twin brothers. They *captured* him, put him in Azkaban and he escaped 15 years later and threw
some deadly purple curse at you that nearly killed you and caused all kinds of serious internal
damage. He was recaptured and put in Azkaban again. And then what happened? Take a guess... yeah,
he escaped again and I made the mistake of only Obliviating him and not killing him when I faced
the bastard again! And that was really stupid because that enabled him to kill Professor Lupin and
leave a two month old baby fatherless. But that's okay right? Because who - '

'Harry,' Hermione tried softly.

'Because who cares if a few hundred mundanes die a painful death, who cares if my best
friend is nearly struck dead and who cares if some werewolf spawn is orphaned?! It doesn't
matter as long as I didn't use the Killing curse right?' Harry finished very loudly.

'Harry,' Hermione whispered very timidly.

'No, save it,' Harry said tiredly, all the anger in him evaporating in an instant.
'This is a moot point. I can't kill anyone anyway and yet we're arguing about the
ethics of such an action.'

'But - '

'We can talk about it later Hermione,' Harry said, 'although I don't think
I've left anything unsaid, have I?' he finished apologetically.

'Not really...' Hermione said nervously.

Harry shrugged. He scooted closer to her and slightly extended his hand ; his way of testing the
waters between them.

After a tense moment, Hermione took the proffered hand in hers and leaned against him. They laid
there silently and they slowly found themselves drifting off into the land of dreams.



*



This was how Thomas and Jane found them when they came back from work at six.

'They look cute, don't they?' Jane gushed to her husband.

'This house elf of his is pretty damn inefficient, isn't he?' Thomas grumbled,
walking quickly into the house.





AN - Two and a half days after the 20th, but damn close enough ain't it?

Short chapter, but you can still review right?! Of course you can...