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Pretend by cuteybearkel
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Pretend

cuteybearkel

A/N: Hello! I know it's been a really (REALLY) long time since I've updated "Pretend", and I apologize for that. I was actually thinking of deleting the story, because I get such a case of writer's block whenever I look at the unfinished last chapters, but I thought that I should at least post a little of what I have in order to show you all that I DID hear your requests for more "Pretend".

This chapter was written quite a while ago, actually, so please excuse any punctuation/grammar mistakes that you may have corrected in previous reviews.

So, here we go! In this chapter, we see a bit of what Harry and Hermione are going through at home, as well as the conversations they have in their letters between Christmas and Valentine's Day. Enjoy, and please remember to review when you've finished!

-Kelsey

~*~

From Christmas on, life became a little bit easier for Harry and Hermione, as they now had a way of communicating with one another without risking discovery by Hermione's father. Hermione was very glad to be free of the burden of having to Summon her mail while leaning out of her bedroom window. She had already had a few near-misses with the neighbours (she was pretty sure that at least one of them had seen a flying letter in the early hours of the morning, but had just passed it off as 'seeing things' from being too tired), and she did not want to risk breaking the laws of a world in which she was no longer allowed to live.

Little Sirius arrived back at The Burrow just a few days after he had left. Harry was surprised but pleased to find the little ball of feathers tapping at his window, a letter in his beak. Harry quickly let the owl inside (it was still very cold out) and took the letter from him, allowing the bird to perch on his shoulder and snuggle against his cheek for warmth. Harry felt a slight pang of loss as the little animal's soft feathers made contact with his face. Hedwig had snuggled against him just like that when she had been his post owl. Pushing the thought aside, he read:

26 December

Dear Harry,

Happy belated Christmas! I would have sent this earlier, but I didn't want to risk sending such a little owl into such a big snowstorm. Thank you so much for him, by the way. He's going to make life a lot easier for both of us, I think. I've named him Sirius, since he's such a brave little thing. Would you believe he attacked Crookshanks?

A smile crept onto Harry's face. As a matter of fact, he certainly did believe that the little owl, now named Sirius, had attacked Crookshanks. He had watched Sirius and Pigwidgeon squabble with each other whenever Pigwidgeon was given post to carry, and he knew that Sirius, despite his size, was most definitely not afraid of picking fights. Even though he had still been recovering from his sudden meeting with The Burrow's kitchen window, he had been very eager to carry letters for the people who had rescued him. The brave little bird had given Pig a good pecking whenever someone had approached with a letter - such a good pecking, in fact, that Harry had eventually had to move Sirius into his room to keep the two owls from nipping at each other all the time.

I hope you don't mind my using Sirius' name. I just thought it was good for such a little daredevil.

I must say that your letter on Christmas Eve was very confusing. It was nice to hear about your joining the Magpies, but I was rather perplexed by that quote. Harry, as much as I love you and wish that we could be together again, I know as well as you do that wishing isn't enough. I can't go back to the magical world, no matter how much I'd like to, and I highly doubt that we could even be together in the Muggle world, with my dad around…

Harry smiled, despite feeling a bit guilty for making Hermione sad. She may not be able to understand now, but he knew that there would come a time when she would be able to see what he meant when he said that their relationship would, someday, stop having to be just pretend. And, hopefully, that time would come very soon.

I miss you, love, and I wish that I could believe you when you say that we'll get our happy ending soon, but I find that very hard to do. As far as I can tell, there's just too much in the way, between my dad, distance, and Merlin knows what else… Well, I've got faith in you. If you say that we're going to get our happy ending somehow, I guess I've just got to wait and see.

Things aren't so bad here, of course. I guess I've been making it sound worse than it is. My mum and I are talking again, thank Heaven. My dad has decided that he doesn't want to talk to me until I stop 'sulking' in my room.

Harry sighed and shook his head. He had never really met Rick Granger, at least not for any length of time, but even his momentary encounters with the man had been enough to show him where Hermione had gotten her stubbornness. He refused to be persuaded to change his mind, wouldn't see the other side of the story, and most certainly would not give in to his daughter's pleas, no matter how much she had cried and begged him to try to see things her way.

I wish he could try to be a bit more understanding. Mum says that she's doing her best to try to make him see the other side of the situation, but he's always been stubborn. It'll take a while for her to make any progress. As for me, I've gotten used to being holed up in my room with Crookshanks and Sirius, so I'm doing all right. I hope everything's all right at The Burrow. Tell the Weasleys hello for me, would you?

Write soon!

Love,

Hermione

xo

Harry folded up the letter, laid it carefully on his windowsill and, with Sirius still riding on his shoulder, quickly went to fetch the small bag of Daydream Charms that Fred and George had asked him to send to Hermione with his next letter. They wouldn't disclose all of the details about these particular Charms, except that they had been designed especially for Hermione and would, in their words, 'give her a taste of home'. Harry was unsure of what they meant by that, and he was a bit wary of sending the Charms to Hermione (the last thing he wanted was to make her even more homesick; she was already plenty upset), but he trusted that the twins knew what they were doing. Fred and George had always had a good amount of tact, and he believed that they would never do anything that would upset Hermione.

Returning to his room, he found a quill, some ink and some parchment, then made his way downstairs. Sitting at the kitchen table with Sirius gently nipping at his ear - much like Hedwig had once done to show her affection, he thought with another small pang of loss - he picked up the quill and wrote:

29 December

Dear Hermione,

It's perfectly fine that you used Sirius' name. In fact, before we agreed to let you name him, the Weasleys and I were thinking of doing just that. Everyone here says hello, and wants me to tell you that we all miss you very much. Fred and George told me to send along this bag of Daydream Charms. I guess you could call it a belated Christmas present. They said that they designed these Charms especially for you, to remind you of all of us. I hope you like them.

Everything's going just fine here at The Burrow. Arthur's happy with his expanding collection of movies, Fred and George's shop is doing wonderfully, Ginny stayed at school to study for her N.E.W.Ts (she's doing very well this year), and - you won't believe it - Ron and Luna have started dating!

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes. He hadn't heard the end of it for days now, ever since Christmas Eve. Ron, bless him, appeared to have secured a spot on cloud nine, and would not stop jabbering about it. Harry found it sweet (and he had to admit that he had done the same thing a few times after Ron had returned to him and Hermione in the tent. He had just been so happy to have finally gotten the weight of his hidden feelings off of his chest that he couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut), but there was a limit to how much he could hear about Luna's imaginary beasts and Dirigible Plums without hurting Ron's feelings by being overcome by a fit of laughter to rival the one that had claimed Hermione when she had caught a glimpse of the nightgown-wearing Archie, who liked a healthy breeze round his… ah… privates. And it seemed that, despite their short courtship, there were some pretty strong feelings between Ron and Luna that he risked hurting.

They might sound like a strange pair, but they're getting along beautifully. I think Ron's in love with her, but it might be a little early to say for sure. In any case, he's practically been bouncing everywhere since Christmas Eve (he and Luna got caught under the mistletoe by the twins, and it seems things went from there). It's good to see him looking so happy. He's been a bit down for a while now. He really misses having you around. Everybody does.

Quidditch practice with the Magpies starts in the first week of January, no matter how cold it is. In the coach's words, we can all either put Heating Charms on our sorry arses or go home if we're going to whine about the weather.

Harry chuckled slightly. The Magpies' coach was like a second Oliver Wood, though taller and with a lot more muscle than Harry's first Quidditch captain. He had the same complex plans (the kind that sometimes managed to overestimate the team's abilities a little bit), the same devotion to the game (a devotion that sometimes bordered on obsession), and, according to Harry's new team-mates, the same boring pep talks before matches (the kind that usually just made the players more nervous instead of reassuring them). Harry didn't care, though. He was itching to get back on his Firebolt and back up in the air, whether said air was freezing cold or not, and the fact that he would be playing for the most famous and successful team in the world made things even better.

He was, however, still a bit nervous. Sure, he had played well when he had been a part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but this was certainly not the same as a match at school. He was going to play the game professionally, in front of the entire wizarding world, and he was going to get paid for it this time around. This wasn't just an extra-curricular team now, after all. It was his job, and that meant that he risked more than just being ridiculed by his schoolmates for a few weeks if he screwed up.

It's easy to see that the he and the rest of the Magpies didn't get to be the best without working for it. I just hope I don't get laughed off the pitch.

It's good to know that you and your mum are talking again. I hope you're not so lonely now. Your dad will come around sometime, sweetheart. Nobody can stay stubborn forever. I think he cares more about his daughter than he cares about being right; he just needs to realize that. I'm glad to hear that you're doing all right, even if you've only got a few people (well, a person and two animals) to talk to. Though I guess you've got two people to talk to, if you count me.

He paused after that. There was one last part of the letter to which he needed to reply, but he didn't quite know how to do so. He wasn't exactly a master of words, and it would be just his luck to end up letting the cat out of the bag long before it was time to do so. There was still a while to wait before he felt that his plan would be ready for execution, and even longer before he felt that he would be able to tell Hermione. The last thing he needed was to drive her out of her mind before all of his preparations were done.

No, he thought, frowning slightly. The very last thing that he needed was to tell Hermione his plan and then have to tell her, later on, that it would be impossible to execute. He knew that that was a possibility, no matter how much it upset him to just think about it, and he wasn't about to make Hermione's life more miserable than it already was by giving her hope and then taking it away.

After dipping his quill into the ink a few more times than necessary as he thought, he finally let some of the ink drip off before writing:

As for my Christmas letter, I don't want to give too much away… But let's just say that sometimes things can still happen, despite all of the obstacles that may stand in the way. Thanks for having faith in me, love. I'll make this happen for us somehow, I promise. Just keep holding on for a little while longer, OK?

All the best from the Weasleys and me!

Love,

Harry

After a moment's thought, he added, with a small grin on his face:

PS: What do you want for Valentine's Day? And don't say 'nothing' or I'll tell Sirius to bite you until you write something else!

He folded up the letter and carried it back to his room, where he rummaged around for an envelope and something that he could use to tie the little bag of Charms to Sirius' leg. He found an envelope and slipped the letter into it, but could not seem to find anything that could serve as a tie, so he settled for persuading Sirius to just grasp the bag in his claws and giving him a firm order to not drop it (he really hoped that the owl understood), before opening his window again and letting the bird out into the chilly air.

~*~

It had been a few days since Hermione had received Harry's letter, and she had finally decided that it was time to reply, lest Harry think that Sirius had gotten lost or hurt on the way to her house. The owl was perfectly fine, of course, especially after he had been given a few days of rest by a worried Hermione, and he sat on the corner of her desk as she wrote, his big eyes following the tip of her quill as it moved back and forth across the parchment. If Hermione had been paying any attention to him, she probably would have laughed. He looked completely fascinated. But she didn't even give the little creature on the corner of her desk a moment's glance as she wrote, being too busy with her letter to notice much at all.

3 January

Dear Harry,

Sorry it took so long for me to write back, but Sirius seemed completely exhausted for a few days after he brought your letter to me, and I was afraid he was sick, so I didn't want to risk sending him out again before he got his energy back.

It had been pretty frightening, Hermione remembered as she wrote, to watch little Sirius - who was usually so full of life and eager to fly around at high speed (not to mention itching for another fight with Crookshanks, who had taken to sulking in his basket whenever Sirius was around, his pride obviously quite wounded after his defeat) - sit still and doze off the moment he cleared the edge of her windowsill and dropped the bag of Charms onto her desk. She had been very worried about him for a day or two, watching him sleep most of the time, but he had seemed to recover after a few days of napping, and was now back to his old, hyperactive self.

He seems to be better now, though. I think he was just tired. Maybe we ought to give him a break between letters. I mean, he is just a little thing, after all, and it's a long way for him to fly so often. Besides, he'd still be faster than Muggle post, even if we waited a day or two between letters.

Tell Gred and Forge that I said thanks a million times for those Daydream Charms of theirs. I was so sure that I was really back at The Burrow with all of you that I cried when the first Charm wore off (happy tears, Harry, don't worry).

And very happy tears they had been. Fred and George had certainly known what they were doing when they had made those Charms. They had recreated Hermione's home-away-from-home so utterly perfectly that, for just a second or two, she had honestly believed that the past few months had been nothing but a dream, and that she had never really had to leave her friends or the world she loved. If she ever got to go back to the magical world, she had decided, she would offer to advertise Fred and George's shop every chance she got.

I'm using them as sparingly as I can, for fear of running out of them too fast, but it's hard to resist the temptation to just use all of them at once and escape in a week-long daydream.

She had been very tempted to do just that quite a few times, but had always reminded herself that her parents would probably be pretty worried if they checked on her and found her in what would most likely appear, to them, to be some sort of coma.

It's so good to hear that everything's going well at The Burrow. You're right; I couldn't believe that Ron and Luna are dating! I had to read your letter a few times to make sure that I had really seen what I thought I'd seen. Do you really think Ron's in love with her? Luna's a nice person, and I think she'd be good for Ron, especially when it comes to cooling that temper of his. I don't think anything can really get on Luna's nerves, so they would balance each other nicely. Tell Ron that I miss him too, would you?

How is Quidditch practice going so far? I know you're never going to get laughed off of a Quidditch pitch, Harry, so I'm assuming that the coach had to pick his eyes up off of the ground when he saw you play for the first time. You know you're good, sweetheart, and any Quidditch team would be honoured to have you play for them. I hope you don't freeze to your Firebolt during practice! Are there any matches in the wintertime?

She sighed. Oh, how she missed watching the youngest Seeker in a century enjoy his favourite sport. She would be happy to go out and sit in the January cold - perhaps even bearing another banner with 'Potter for President' written on it in flashing letters - if it meant that she got to sit in the stands and witness that look of triumph on Harry's face when the Snitch was finally trapped in his grasp at the end of a game, its little wings beating lethargically as it made a feeble attempt to escape. It would be worth a few frozen fingers, she thought, to be able to cheer him on again, just like old times.

Of course I count you on my list of people who I can talk with, silly. Though I wish we could actually talk to each other instead of writing letters all the time. I miss hearing your voice. At least I've got the Charms to tide me over for a little while.

I think my mum might be starting to wear my dad down a little bit. I can hear them through the walls sometimes, and he sounds less stubborn lately. He's still not quite ready to talk to me, she added honestly, remembering the awkward atmosphere that had hung between her and her father throughout the past few days, but I think it's mostly because he feels a tad guilty now, instead of angry with me. I guess all I can do is wait and see what will happen.

Finally, she addressed the bit of his letter that had been nagging at the back of her mind for days now, even keeping her up for a little while at night. She had been hoping for a bit of an explanation, something to help her figure out what he was up to, but all she had gotten was more of the same secretiveness that he had displayed in his letter on Christmas Eve. She didn't know whether to be worried or eager to find out what he was planning.

You're driving me mad with all this suspense. What exactly am I 'holding on' for? How much shameless begging is it going to take for you to tell me what's going on? I've got plenty of faith in you, love, but it would be nice to know exactly where all of that faith is going.

What do I want for Valentine's Day? Don't you think it's a little bit early to be thinking about that? But, for fear of having Sirius detach one or more of my fingers, I'll try to think of something. Chocolates? Roses? To be back in our world and in your arms, where I belong? Anything along those lines would be great, I suppose.

Reading the paragraph back to herself, Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at the tone of her own words. She usually wouldn't write something so… sappy, but this was Harry, after all. Her Harry, who she loved more than anyone, and who she missed terribly.

I think I'll stop there, love, she wrote with a sigh. All this talk of Valentine's Day is making me miss you more.

Lots of love,

Hermione

xo

Folding the letter carefully, she slipped it into an envelope and held it out to Sirius, who took it in his beak and hopped up onto the windowsill, waiting for her to open the window for him. She did, shivering slightly as a blast of cold air from outside hit her. She closed the window again the moment Sirius' tail feathers had cleared the windowsill, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. After watching the little owl grow smaller and smaller in the grey sky, until he eventually disappeared, Hermione stepped back from her desk and looked around her room. It was pretty gloomy, lit only by the feeble light outside. It was also quiet, except for Crookshanks' soft purring from his basket in the corner. He didn't seem to be bothered by the cold, and was probably rather relieved by Sirius' departure. Crookshanks didn't like not feeling like the boss of Hermione's room. He was so content now that the owl was gone, he didn't even seem to notice how gloomy the weather was.

Then again, Hermione thought, rolling her eyes, as long as it doesn't disturb his naps, it doesn't bother him in the least.

Speaking of naps, she found herself in the mood for one as well (she figured it had something to do with it looking a lot later in the day than it really was), but didn't think that letting herself doze would be the best idea. She knew that she wouldn't sleep a wink that night if she allowed herself to drift off so early in the day.

The bag of Daydream Charms on the corner of her nightstand caught her eye. She had told herself that she wasn't going to use them all up in the space of a few days, but… Well, what the heck? It wasn't like she had anything better to do.

Settling herself onto her bed, she reached for the Charms and extracted one from the bag, before opening the nightstand drawer and retrieving her wand. She touched it to the Charm and murmured a word. The effect was instantaneous; she immediately felt very calm and sleepy.

Oh, just this once, she thought happily as she started to drift off into her magically induced daydream. Just this once and - she paused to yawn, the Charm's effects seeming even stronger when she was already tired - and then I'll save them, like I said.

~*~

Harry was in a wonderful mood when he stepped into The Burrow, despite having had to walk through the snow to get to the door. He had just been to practice, something that he was beginning to enjoy more and more. It was amazing to play on a team with people who had played Quidditch for a living much longer than he had. There were so many things he could learn by watching them, from new, far more complicated manoeuvres (the Sloth-Grip Roll seemed to be just as boring as a sloth now, after he had seen some professional techniques) to how to show off a little for a crowd (though this was not something that the captain had them practice). He learned that there was more to being a Seeker than just catching a Snitch. There was also, it seemed, a requirement to make the fans happy, seeing as they would, according to his team-mates, be watching him very often, because he was the one who decided how long the game would last. He learned that he, as the player who spent most of his time watching the match instead of actually being a part of it, was expected to find some way to amuse the spectators if the game got a little slow for their liking, whether by turning loop-the-loops or by allowing himself to be pursued by a Bludger. He had come to realize that he, as the Seeker, was the fan-appointed king of the Quidditch pitch, and he would be loved or hated depending on how much of a crowd-pleaser he could be.

It turned out that he had the potential to be a very good crowd-pleaser. He was especially good at evading Bludgers, even the faster, fiercer ones that were used during practice. However, he often elicited some curious looks from his teammates when he finally outran a Bludger and came to a stop with a huge, silly grin on his face. Well, it wasn't his fault that every time he escaped the Bludgers, he couldn't help thinking of Draco Malfoy lying sprawled and winded on the Quidditch pitch after losing a race for the Snitch. It also wasn't his fault that he couldn't help thinking of Gilderoy Lockhart, who was still practicing his joined-up writing at St. Mungo's and reading through his constant fan mail, probably wondering what he had done to make so many women love him so much.

To add to his enjoyment of Quidditch practice, there was the simple act of getting back on his trusty Firebolt and getting back up in the air once more. He hadn't realized how much he had missed the liberty of flying until he had been circling a Quidditch pitch once again, the sheer joy of being free flowing through his veins. For Harry, at least, there was no feeling as good as that in the whole world. The only thing he could compare it to was kissing Hermione for the first time, over and over and over again. Of course, he would never admit that to any of his team-mates if they enquired about the blissful look on his face as he flew. He knew full well that they would all laugh, punch him on the arm and call him a girl. Most of his team-mates knew about the situation between him and Hermione, and they were sympathetic, but he knew that the "guy-ness" that came out in all of them on the pitch would prevail if he pranced around jabbering about his girlfriend.

"Hello, Harry dear," a familiar, cheerful voice greeted him from the kitchen, shaking him from his thoughts. "How was practice?"

"It was great, Mrs. W- Molly, I mean," said Harry, correcting himself as he leaned against the doorframe. He shook his head and chuckled slightly. "Sorry, I guess I'm still getting used to that." Arthur and Molly had asked him to call them by their first names from the moment he had arrived at their home after the Battle at Hogwarts, reminding him of his adult status.

Molly set something on the counter and turned her head to smile understandingly at him. "That's all right, Harry, Luna's the same way," she assured him.

Harry wondered whether or not that was actually comforting.

"Now," she continued, in the sort of tone that Harry now recognized as an unfailing promise of food, "I've just made a batch of muffins, if you'd like one."

There was a warm, napkin-wrapped muffin in Harry's hand before he could even open his mouth to reply. "Thanks, Molly," he said, taking a bite to further show his gratitude. She seemed pleased.

"Would you like anything else, dear?" she asked, as she always did. "That team captain of yours is always keeping you out in the cold for so long; you must be hungry…"

Harry shook his head, as his mouth was full. "No thanks," he said when he had swallowed, "I'm fine. I did have an excellent breakfast, after all," he reminded her. She had already stuffed him full of bacon, eggs, toast and pumpkin juice that morning, before insisting on packing him a lunch to take to the pitch. He had ended up dividing the food among his team-mates, feeling as though he could go another week without eating, after the two or three whole pigs he had most likely ingested that morning.

"Well, all right," said Molly, sounding like she didn't quite believe him. "Any plans for the rest of the day?"

Harry shrugged, having just taken another bite of his muffin. It was chocolate chip - one of his favourites - and very good. "Not really," he said when his mouth was empty again. "I've got a letter that I want to write, but that's about all."

"To Hermione?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, taking another bite of the muffin.

"How is she these days?"

"She's doing fine," said Harry, swallowing quickly. "Feeling a little lonely, understandably, but doing all right. It seems that she's been getting along with her parents lately," he added.

"Has she?" asked Molly, sounding pleased.

"Yeah. She's still not talking to her father, but she doesn't think he's really angry with her anymore. More like guilty, she says."

"Well, that's an improvement," said Molly. "Here's hoping he comes around and starts talking to her again soon. It must be so hard to live in a house with someone who refuses to speak to you," she said, shaking her head.

"Definitely," Harry agreed, frowning slightly. "Of course I wouldn't tell her this in a letter, but I can't help but think that he ought to feel guilty."

"Now, Harry, I'm sure Mr. Granger thought that he was doing the right thing," said Molly.

"Well, yes, I suppose he did," Harry agreed, somewhat reluctantly. "But you weren't there to watch him sit there and blatantly ignore her while she cried and begged him to just listen to her," he said, shaking his head as he remembered the moment.

Molly looked sympathetic. "It must have been a difficult time for everyone, dear," she said. "But at least things are starting to get better."

Harry nodded. "Slowly but surely," he agreed. "I just want her to be happy," he added softly, more to himself than to Molly.

"I know," she said understandingly. "That's all any of us want for the ones we love, isn't it?"

Harry nodded again, taking another bite of the nearly-finished muffin in his hand. Molly patted his shoulder in a motherly sort of way and smiled.

"Now, go on and write Hermione a nice long letter to keep her spirits up," she said gently. "I'm sure she'll be glad to hear from you."

Harry gave her a smile and left the kitchen, heading to his bedroom to gather his parchment, quill, and ink, not to mention the hyperactive ball of feathers that had been bouncing around his room for more than five days now.

A few minutes later, he settled himself into a chair at the table downstairs and started his letter.

9 January

My dear, wonderful, beautiful Hermione, he wrote, making himself grin.

Quidditch is going spectacularly so far, hence my use of so many adjectives (I'm laughing). I just got back from practice a few minutes ago, and I thought that Sirius had had quite enough of a break, so I figured that I'd send him back to you. I meant to reply sooner, but the spell of nice weather we've been having has encouraged dear Coach to hold daily practices, usually lasting a good eight hours.

Things are still great here at The Burrow. Ron and Luna are going out more and more lately. I really think that the two of them are falling for each other. It's quite cute, actually. Last night at dinner, we all got treated to a detailed description of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack from Ron, who maintained a straight face the whole time. I think he's actually taking Luna's creatures seriously! Ron's my best mate and I'm plenty fond of Luna, but I don't think I could be around him for more than a few minutes without laughing if I found out that he seriously believed in Snorkacks and - I forget the exact name now - Bucktoothed Schnuzzlebumps or something like that. I try to be open-minded and everything (after all, I didn't believe in magic for eleven years, and look what happened), but some of Luna's creatures are just so ridiculous that I have a hard time believing that they could ever be real, even in the magical world. Well, the two of them are happy together, and I guess that's all that really matters, Schnuzzlebumps or not.

Life's going well for everyone here. Ginny's stressed about her N.E.W.Ts, but she seems to be enjoying herself at school as well. It seems she's struck up a relationship with a Hufflepuff boy in her year. I can't help but be a little jealous of her, and of Ron. It's as though everybody else gets to be with someone they love, except for the two of us.

Molly's been particularly happy lately, which is a change. She, like the rest of us, had been (and still is) pretty upset about you having to leave. She still misses you, of course, but she's been a bit more cheerful since Christmas. I think it has something to do with the fact that not only does she have Luna to invite to The Burrow for supper five days a week, she's also got an excuse to feed me up every chance she gets, with Quidditch and all. I pretend to think that she worries about me too much, but I suppose I can admit that I kind of like all the attention. It's sort of like having a mum, I think, even if I'm borrowing her from the Weasleys.

I've been working on setting up Grimmauld Place for human occupation lately. Kreacher has been taking better care of the place since we were there last year, but there are still a few infestations (and hauntings) that are out of his control, house-elf magic or not, so some of the Weasleys have been helping me clean the place up. It's not that I don't like being at The Burrow, but I think it might be time for me to have a place of my own. Playing for the Magpies pays pretty well, so I've got the resources to support myself, and even though the Weasleys are like family to me, I think I've been relying on their hospitality long enough. What do you think?

As for Quidditch, I haven't gotten laughed off the pitch so far, or laughed at at all. As far as I know, we won't start having actual matches until late January or early February, when we're scheduled to play the Ballycastle Bats. It's supposed to be a big game, first one of the new year and all that. I confess that I'm nervous. The Bats are the second-best team in the league, and from what I've heard, they don't plan to stay in second place for long. Not to mention that the match is probably going to be followed by most of the world, when you consider that it's the first of the season. I really hope I don't do anything stupid.

I guess you're right, Valentine's Day is a bit far off, but you are the one who told me that it's bad to procrastinate! Besides, I've got a few things to take care of before February rolls around… I wish I could tell you what you've got faith in, love, but that would ruin the surprise!

Is everything going well at your house? How are things going with your dad lately? Write soon.

Love always,

Harry

~*~

13 January

My beloved, handsome and somewhat evil Harry,

I can use lots of adjectives too! (I'm laughing.) It's great to hear that you're enjoying Quidditch so much. Of course you didn't get laughed off the pitch, silly. I told you, you're very good, and any team would be happy to have you. It's good to know that you're not being treated too much like a celebrity. Eight hours a day sounds like an awful lot, even for a team that's taking advantage of good weather… I hope the captain isn't pushing you and your teammates too hard. Well, even if he is, I trust that Molly will take excellent care of my favourite Seeker, at least until you move. I agree with you, love, you're old enough to be living on your own, especially since you've got the resources to do so, though it might be hard to move out of somewhere like the Weasleys' and into Grimmauld Place.

I wish I could be there to watch your first match with the Magpies. I miss watching you play, no matter how many times you nearly gave me heart failure. I wish I could at least get the Prophet, so I could see the headline that's sure to pop up after that match. And don't be daft; you're not going to do anything stupid. Even if you did, no one would notice, and even if they did, they would think it was just Harry Potter being brilliant and would name your mistake after you before documenting it as a new Quidditch manoeuvre. The Potter Plummet or something. (I'm laughing again. Hopefully, there won't be any plummeting involved in your match!)

It's good to know that everyone's in high spirits over at The Burrow. It's great that Ron's found someone who he can actually carry on a serious relationship (well, as serious as Schnuzzlebumps and Snorkacks get) with. I definitely understand why you're a little jealous of our friends, love. I'm a bit jealous as well, and I don't even have to be around the happy couples all the time. It seems like it should just be a given that when two people care for one another, they should be allowed to be together, but I guess that that's just wishful thinking.

Speaking of happy couples, you're still driving me insane! Can't you just give me a little hint? You know how much I hate not knowing what's going on.

Life's getting better here at home, slowly but surely. I lent Mum my copies of the Standard Book of Spells collection, because she says that she wants to read up on magic. I guess she's hoping to find more information to support her side of the argument. She and I are reading Hogwarts: A History together as well, and I have fun adding my own little notes as we go along. It's nice, kind of like reading picture books with my parents again. I've told her a lot about you and our adventures together, and she's taken everything very well. I could tell that my stories worried her at first, but after she realized that they all ended well, she relaxed quite a bit. I think she likes you a lot more now, after hearing about all of our little escapades and how you always tried to protect me. I'm really glad that my mum's making an effort to understand our world and our kind. I think I might not have put it in the best light by telling her about Voldemort before anything else. Dad and I aren't on speaking terms yet, but I've at least felt comfortable enough to venture outside of my bedroom to read in the living room with my mum. I hope that what she's learning from my books will help to finally get this argument over with.

Just a little hint? Please?

Love, hugs, and kisses (also known as shameless bribing),

Your (bewildered) Hermione

xo

~*~

21 January

My bewildered Hermione,

I'd love to give you a hint, but knowing you, you'll figure it out, which will ruin the surprise. My plan is not getting out of my genius mind (I might be exaggerating a bit; we all know who the genius of this relationship is!) until I'm absolutely sure that I know what I'm doing.

Well, then again, you'll probably find it completely foolish even when I do think I know what I'm doing, but… There are some things in life that are worth a bit of foolishness.

It's good to know that your mum is making progress. I'm glad that she wants to learn about our world, instead of just assuming that we're all carbon copies of Voldemort. Hope she can change your dad's mind.

Sorry this is so short, but I've got to run off to practice, just like every other morning. The captain is getting a little stressed about the match, even though it's almost a month away (it's been scheduled for Valentine's Day) and the team is already doing spectacularly. I guess this team's not the best in the league for nothing.

Less than a month left, my love…

Your (rushed) Harry

~*~

31 January

Dear Harry,

Good news and bad news. The good news is, it seems that my mum has finally convinced my Dad that our world isn't all bad. I think she showed him Hogwarts: A History in order to do it. A good education in a good school has always been important to him, after all. And you and Ron laughed at me for always keeping that book around!

The bad news is, I think that he feels rather ashamed of himself for judging us so quickly, so he's decided to just pretend like nothing ever happened, which means no discussions about whether or not I'm going to be allowed to return to our world. Plus, since he doesn't want to talk about it, I have no idea what his opinion of magic really is, so I don't know what would happen if I tried to ask him about coming back. On the upside, he and I are now able to carry on civilized conversations, though I can't help but be a little angry at him for talking to me like nothing happened, instead of just admitting that he was wrong.

Enclosed with this letter, you'll find a picture. I felt bad for not being able to go to your match on Valentine's Day (what a day to make you play Quidditch!), so I charmed my dad's camera to take magical photographs (it's an easier alternative to developing the pictures in a potion, but it's also a rather tricky charm) and had Mum take one of me, so you've got a Mini-Hermione to cheer you on. I hope you like it! Good luck with the match!

Less than a month left until what? This plan of yours comes into play? You're going to drive me insane before you get a chance to pull off whatever you're planning if you keep up with all this suspense! What am I waiting for? Why? Can't I please have a little hint?

Impatiently awaiting some sort of explanation,

Hermione

xo

~*~

10 February

My impatient Hermione,

That's great news! Well, except for the fact that it's probably going to be a little while before your dad wants to talk about our world with you. But still, I'm glad that things are more comfortable at your house now.

I love the picture, sweetheart. That was very thoughtful of you. You look a bit pale, though. Have you been feeling all right?

All right, in order to preserve my lovely girlfriend's sanity, I'm willing to give you one tiny hint:

I bet the sunset on Valentine's day will be breathtaking.

Lots and lots of love,

Harry

~*~

12 February

Harry-

I know I should be giving Sirius a break from delivering post, but I had to know…

What on Earth are you talking about?

I like sunsets and all, but what exactly has that got to do with us?

Well, I've still got faith in you. I'll be watching the sky on Valentine's Day, in hopes that that's what you want me to do…

I'm fine, don't worry. I just haven't been outside in a little while, that's all.

Play well! Remind the Bats that they shouldn't show their faces in the daytime!

Love,

Your very confused Hermione

xo