More Important Things

More important things

Prologue: The Quietness of Love

“He loved you,” Hermione whispered. “I know he loved you.”

Harry dropped his arms.

“I don’t know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me. This isn’t love, the mess he’s left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.”

Harry picked up Hermione’s wand, which he had dropped in the snow, and sat back down in the entrance of the tent.

“Thanks for the tea. I’ll finish the watch. You get back in the warm.”

She hesitated a moment before picking up the book and then walking back past him into the tent, but as she did so, she brushed the top of his head lightly with her hand. He closed his eyes at her touch and tilted his head back ever so slightly an agonized groan rising up from his throat.

Hermione stopped and knelt beside him; her hand sliding from its gentle caress of his head to rest at the joining of his neck and shoulder as she did so. Harry felt her lips at ear as she whispered, “It’ll be all right Harry, somehow, it’ll be all right.”

The anguish in Hermione’s voice startled him. Turning around he looked again at her pale, drawn and pinched face, the purplish shadows underneath her tired red rimmed eyes, eyes that were brimming with tears. She was exhausted, running around the countryside willy-nilly so that he would not have to face whatever lay ahead of him alone. He thought of her parents, living in Australia as Wendell and Monica Wilkins with no recollection of their former lives or their daughter. He thought of how Ron had left, bowed and broken under this same pressure yet, Hermione had stayed. He remembered her telling Ron that she had promised Harry her help and that she was staying no matter what. And how had he repaid her, by venting his anger and frustrations out on the only friend he had left, the only person he’d ever truly been able to count on. Feeling like the world’s worse prat Harry reached out and pulled Hermione to his side. Laying his forehead against hers he whispered, “I’m sorry Hermione.”

Hermione looked up a curious expression clouding her face as she asked, “Sorry, what do you have to be sorry about?”

Harry sighed as he gestured toward the snow covered ground and the two of them huddled there together in the doorway of the tent and muttered, “Everything I’m sorry for everything.”

Hermione reached up and framed Harry’s face in her hands as she spoke, “None of this is your fault Harry, none of it. We’ll get through it, I don’t know how but we’ll get through it, haven’t we always.” She offered him a tremulous smile.

Although he wasn’t really convinced that that was true he nodded and offered her a shaky smile of his own.

They sat there for a few moments staring intently at each other before Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips against Hermione’s.

She was taken aback by the suddenness of his action, if the truth were told he was just as stunned by his actions as she was but that didn’t stop him from pressing his lips more firmly against hers. After a moment Hermione responded by leaning into the kiss and sliding her hands and arms around Harry’s neck drawing herself closer to him. Spurred on by her actions Harry wrapped his arms about Hermione’s waist and molded his mouth more tightly to hers, slipping his tongue out to glide across her lips.

Hermione acquiesced to Harry’s entreaty, with a sigh she opened her mouth to him and allowed his tongue to sweep inside her mouth smoothly gliding over and around her own. Harry heard an oddly muffled purring sound that he was astonished to find was coming from Hermione. She inched closer to him, clutching tightly to the back of his jumper. Her tongue began to move with and against his in an intricate dance that sets his blood searing and pulsing through his veins. His body answered Hermione’s back by pulling her more closely to his chest, matching the intensity of reaction to the kiss with his own.

The gentleness that suffused the initial kiss was gone replaced by a frenzied urgency, a palpable desperation that he was not quite sure how to comprehend. All he knew in that moment was Hermione, the feel of her body pressed against him, the delicious heat that seemed to radiate from her wherever she touched him, the taste of her warm, yielding mouth; these things were the center of his world, she was the center of his world.

The unexpected sound of some scurrying animal in the frozen underbrush broke the moment; the noise caused them to pull away from each other thereby bringing them back to reality. Their breathing came in fast, harshly ragged gasps and pants. Instantly they relinquish their holds on each other. Harry’s eyes drifted to Hermione’s kiss swollen lips fighting the urge to draw her back into his arms and kiss her again.

She raised an unsteady hand to her lips and uttered a barely intelligible ‘Oh’. At the single articulated word their eyes met and Harry saw the tumble of emotions he was feeling reflected back at him in Hermione’s eyes; wonder, confusion, excitement, guilt, and desire . He opened his mouth to speak though he had no clue what he intended to say, but before he voiced a single solitary syllable Hermione had scrambled to her feet and disappeared inside the tent.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Harry sat quietly nursing his glass of firewhiskey as he thought back to the events of that snowy December evening which had taken place a year beforehand. He and Hermione had never spoken of that evening and the kiss they’d shared. He imagined that they’d never mentioned it because they had both been too stunned by the fact that it had happened at all. Also, before either of them had really had time to process what had happened between them Harry had seen the silver doe and Ron had returned and the locket horcrux had been destroyed.

Ron’s tormented vision from the locket coupled with Hermione’s violent reaction to Ron’s return had convinced Harry that his and Hermione’s moment in the doorway of the tent had been born of stress, exhaustion and a desire to feel even the tiniest bit of comfort. He hadn’t thought there to be anything more to it than that, there hadn’t been time. There were horcruxes to find, a war to fight, a dark lord to defeat, there was no time to brood over the meaning of heated kisses with one’s best friend. It was a lapse, a moment of exhaustion and a desire to feel safe and cared for, that’s what he had told himself, but apparently there had been more to that kiss, much more.

He hadn’t expected this, never would have believed it possible of himself and yet there was no denying that it was indeed so. It was surprising how differently this felt to his previous bouts of this sort. There was no swooping and flipping in his stomach, no large scaly beasts roaring and clawing to life in his chest; he had neither seen nor felt any indication that his feelings had changed in the least. And yet his feelings had indeed changed though he was hard pressed to determine when and why they had changed.

When he’d spoken to Luna about the matter – he hadn’t exactly brought it up Luna had in that curiously abnormal way of hers seen something in his manner that revealed the truth of his feelings to her even before he had recognized them himself – she’d laughed as she informed him that his feelings had not changed but had finally become clear. When he’d asked her what she meant by that Luna had smiled and said that feelings and emotions weren’t always obviously noisy. She said that some emotions don't make a lot of noise; she said it was hard to hear pride and that caring was very faint – like a heartbeat, and love, true love – was so quiet sometimes that you didn't even know it was there.

And though hadn’t understood half of what Luna had said he did understand the truth in her statement about the quietness of love. How could he deny that a person could fall in love without ever being consciously aware that it was happening when that was what he himself had done.

He no longer felt shock or surprise at the thought of this feeling. It was a simple statement of fact for him now; he was in love with Hermione Granger. The only question that remained was what was he going to do about it.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

More important things

Chapter 1: The Hazards of Brooding

It had been nearly dawn when Harry finished off the last of his fire whiskey and dragged himself upstairs to bed. So he was quite annoyed when his sleep was interrupted by his being levitated out of his warm bed and dropped unceremoniously onto the cold hard floor of his bedroom. He made to stand but between his spinning, whiskey addled brain and his being tangled in his own bed covers he ended up collapsing back onto the floor in a heap.

Hermione’s voice filled the room.

“Kreacher’s making breakfast. You should shower before you come down.”

The tone of her voice made it clear that her words were neither a statement nor a request but a command. He knew without looking that she was wearing that stony expression that often covered her face when she was angry or otherwise displeased with him. Kicking his legs free of the covers he’d been tangled in Harry rose to his feet with a grunt and plodded heavily into the bathroom.

As he turned on the tap for the shower and stripped off the clothes he’d worn the previous day Harry admitted to himself that he had been expecting this visit for quite some time now. He hadn’t seen Hermione, or any of his other friends for that matter, since the Christmas holidays; it was now mid February. He supposed that Hermione had taken it upon herself to come and see whether he was occupied with his auror training or whether something was actually wrong. Then again Kreacher had shown that he was quite proficient in tattling to Hermione when he found his master’s behavior unmanageable.

Harry stepped into the shower and stuck his face under hot spray of the tap. Groping blindly his fingers fumbled until they closed around the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shelf; pouring a dollop into his hand he attacked his scalp. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered with shampooing his hair, he knew a very good cleansing charm that handled the job well enough for daily use, but as Hermione was downstairs in the kitchen waiting to lecture him about his current activities he needed all the time he could get to compose himself.

Fifteen minutes later Harry emerged from his shower scrubbed clean from head to foot. A glance around the room told him that Hermione had tidied up. He knew it was Hermione and not Kreacher by the scent of the freshening charm that hung in the air; her charm always produced a spicy, woodsy type of smell, Kreacher’s was closer to pine. Looking around Harry saw that the rubbish bin had been emptied of its overflowing contents, the floor was likewise devoid of the detritus of unused and forgotten items and articles of clothing that were sorely in need of the laundry. The mass of unopened and unanswered post that had littered the dresser had been sorted into piles and was considerably smaller; this was unquestionably Hermione’s work. Harry had developed a bit of dislike for strict organization and tidiness, a carryover from his years with the Dursleys. Kreacher, and everyone close to him, knew this and made a point of leaving Harry’s personal space a little bit lived in; Hermione was the only one who ever got away with such austere meticulousness with his things. Walking over to the freshly changed and made bed his eyes drifted to the clock resting on his bedside table, it was half past seven; sighing he picked up his wand and waving it in the direction of his dresser summoned himself something suitable to wear to breakfast.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Some ten minutes later Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing an ominous scowl. His drinking binge from the night before coupled with Hermione’s wake up call had left him with quite a headache. He dropped down into the chair across from Hermione. Kreacher promptly appeared at his side and deposited a cup and a bowl in front of him. Harry looked down at the coffee and porridge sitting before him. A frown blossomed across Harry’s face as he considered the beige mass before him; since the horcrux hunt neither he nor Hermione had held much fondness for mushrooms and porridge, Hermione must be awfully cheesed off if this was her idea of breakfast.

As if reading his mind Hermione spoke from the other side of the table. “You need something warm and substantial in you and considering the amount of drinking you’ve been doing I didn’t think rashers and eggs was a good idea.”

Harry nodded mutely and winced.

With a small sympathetic smile Hermione added, “You may want to drink the coffee first; it should help your head.”

Harry picked up his coffee cup and drained the contents in two mouthfuls. He then picked up his spoon and began shoveling porridge into his mouth. As he ate Hermione made no attempt at conversation, she merely sat studying him as though she were trying to discern the reason for his brooding. Harry’s spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, signaling that he was done. Hermione, who had risen from the table a moment before refilled Harry’s cup and removed his bowl, in its place she deposited a saucer bearing two pieces of toast slathered with marmalade. He smiled gratefully and wolfed the pieces of toast down as he finished off his second cup of coffee.

When he was done he looked across the table at Hermione who was quietly sipping a cup of coffee and gruffly said, “Thanks.”

She nodded and said, “You’re welcome.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes more as Hermione finished her coffee. Once she was done she again rose from her seat and taking hers and Harry’s breakfast things to the sink set about washing up.

Harry rose from his seat as well and grabbing her wrist stated, “Leave it, Kreacher’d do his nut if he found you doing the washing up, he likes to feel useful.” Harry made for the door, pulling Hermione along in his wake, and added; “besides I don’t think you came all the way from Hogwarts before seven in the morning on a Saturday to do the washing up.”

Harry made his way through the house and up the stairs to the second floor lounge. A blazing fire burned in the grate, no doubt set by Kreacher. Harry flopped down on the couch, pulling Hermione down beside him. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

Hermione toed off her shoes and curled her legs underneath her body and staring at Harry’s motionless profile asked, “How’s your head?”

Harry replied without opening his eyes, “Better… what was in the coffee, hangover or reversal of drunkenness potion?”

“Neither.” Hermione paused as Harry opened his eyes and turned to stare at her quizzically before she went on, “It was Carouser’s Comfort, its George’s latest product. It combines hangover, headache and reversal of drunkenness potions along with a dash of pepper – up potion. Ron says its become one of their best sellers.”

Harry smiled and tapping his temple muttered, “I can see why, perhaps I should buy a case or two of the stuff to keep on hand just in case.”

Hermione frowned. Harry could tell she was resisting the urge to scold him about his excess the evening before she managed to master the impulse and instead asked, “How is your training coming along?” Harry gave a noncommittal shrug as he replied. “Fine, a bit taxing but that’s to be expected it being auror training and all.”

Hermione bobbed her head up and down in agreement and added a second query. “What’s it like, I mean do you have lessons like at Hogwarts or is it more actual in the field type instruction?”

Harry considered the question for a few minutes before responding. “There are lessons and there is in field instruction but there are other things as well,” he paused for a second before continuing, “we’re tested on all sorts of things… physical endurance, reflexes, mental acuity, knowledge of potions, spells, charms, curses, and hexes, basic healing, defense tactics and strategy, things like that. And we study previous missions and field operations to see what techniques and strategies worked and which ones didn’t. We have to sort out why things happened the way they did and sometimes we run drills recreating elements of the missions we’ve studied to see which of our suggested theories would actually work.”

“Sounds like it’s really intense.”

Harry nodded. “It is. There’s a lot of studying involved as well. I spend half my free time in the bloody Ministry archives looking up information and I’m now on a first name basis with the entire staff of Flourish and Blotts and Culpepper’s Manuscriptorium.”

Hermione smiled at the hint of annoyance in his voice over the amount of studying he had to do. “And how are you getting on with your fellow trainees, made any new friends?”

His expression suddenly went neutral as he tersely responded, “Training isn’t exactly the place to make friends Hermione.”

Her brow furrowed in worry as she stared at his expressionless face and stated, “The other trainees are giving you a hard time.”

Harry sighed as he averted his gaze from Hermione. Sometimes he hated the fact that she was so damn intuitive where he was concerned. He didn’t particularly care to discuss his troubles with the other trainees and he wasn’t altogether sure that he could endure any of Hermione’s kind and considerate compassion at the moment given his recent realizations about his feelings for her as he had yet to decide what he planned to do about said feelings.

His mind drifted back to the Christmas holidays and the moment he’d accepted that his feelings for Hermione were much more than friendly and far too improper to be considered remotely brotherly. They were at the Burrow sitting through another of Mrs. Weasley’s marathon listening of Celestina Warbeck’s greatest hits. To amuse herself Fleur had charmed and warded the doorway leading to the kitchen to immobilize any two persons passing in the doorway under the mistletoe that hung there until they kissed full on the lips. So far Fleur’s little diversion had caught Neville and Ginny, George and Angelina and Percy and Luna. The last had resulted in Ron laughing uproariously at Percy’s baffled expression over Luna’s rambling discourse on the dangers of Nargles and their preoccupations with tonsils. Molly had demanded that all the pranks and tomfoolery and everyone thought that Fleur had obliged her mother-in-laws wishes, but Harry was soon to find that that was not the case.

He had been exiting the kitchen as Hermione had been entering it. When they passed each other in the doorway they each felt the effects of the charm. Harry had looked around at Fleur who was smiling mischievously at the immobilized couple as she made a gesture with her hand that seemed to be saying ‘Get on with it’. Apparently Hermione had glanced at Fleur as well because she’d said something about it seeing as how it was Christmas who was she to buck tradition. The next thing Harry knew Hermione was rising on her tiptoes and pressing her soft lips against his. At the feel of her lips he had been inundated with images from the previous kiss they’d shared and his body had recalled how wonderful Hermione had felt pressed against. He had also been reminded of how badly he had wanted her that evening in the entryway of that tent; he was reminded of how he had wanted to do much more than kiss her. Reflexively he had pushed his lips more firmly against hers, prolonging the kiss by a second or two more. As she drew away from him a sudden urge to haul her back to him and kiss her soundly and properly rushed through his him, and then it was over. He felt the enchantment as it loosed its hold on him and Hermione walked into the kitchen without a backwards glance, seemingly unaffected by the whole affair.

Harry had made his way to seat at the back of the room more than a bit dazed over what had happened. He was so confounded by the realization that he was harboring amorous feeling for Hermione that he hadn’t been able to deny the source of his sudden anxiety when Luna had taken a seat beside him and asked if he was contemplating his true feelings for Hermione. Needing someone to talk to and having always found solace in Luna and her unnerving insightfulness, Harry had excused himself and Luna on the pretext of his seeing her home safely, which he did. It was there, at Luna’s, over fire whiskey and lemon arts that Harry came to understand why he had called things off with Ginny and why he had such misgivings about Ron and Hermione as a couple; he wanted her for himself, he was in love with Hermione.

“Harry!”

“Wha…what?” Harry stammered bemusedly, having been snapped out of his remembrances by the sound of Hermione’s voice.

She was looking at him questioningly, her left eyebrow arched slightly as she asked, “Harry where were you just now I asked if the other trainees were giving you a hard time and you went all quiet,” she paused and sat up a bit straighter as she posed her next question, “what are they doing to you?”

Harry took in the steely glint in Hermione’s eye and the hard set of her jaw, the clipped tone of her voice and quickly ascertained that she was envisioning his fellow trainees attempting to cause him harm. Hastily he replied. “No one’s doing anything to anyone,” her eyes narrowed suspiciously as he continued on, “its no more than the usual; there the over awed half who can’t walk past me without whispering and going all wide-eyed because it’s the Harry Potter, the Boy – Who – Lived, the Chosen One. And then there’s the other half who reckon I’m a big headed, show off who got lucky a few times and hasn’t got much real talent so he relies on his famous name and his well connected friends. Quite a few of the trainees think I used my friendship with Kingsley to get in the program to begin with.”

Harry hadn’t meant for the bitter edge to creep into his voice but it was hard to hide once he’d gotten himself into a good flow. Hermione expelled a breath of air and smiled sympathetically as she intoned, “It is a bit wearing.” It was Harry’s turn to sit up straight and look on suspiciously as he inquired after how things were going for Hermione. “What’s wrong? Has someone done something to upset you?”

She shook her head as she replied, “Nothing’s wrong per se, its just… is like you said, there’s the staring and whispering and people feeling as though its perfectly all right to stroll up to you in the middle of your dinner and ask the most ridiculously questions about the horcrux hunt. Twits like Romilda Vane and her crowd constantly asking if you’re seeing anyone and what kinds of women you prefer. Trying to get through classes and decide what I want to do with the rest of my life as well as making time for having something that vaguely resembles a personal life. And I’m on my own most of the time with no one to talk to so…”

Harry cut in. “On your own, what about Ginny and Luna and Neville, what about everyone else from our year who came back to finish out their seventh year and take their N.E.W.T.s?”

Hermione shrugged. “Well its not exactly like I ever ran in the same circles as Lavender and Pavrati or Seamus and Dean. Neville’s always good for a chat when he’s around which is hardly ever, considering how popular and confident he’s become since the battle; and Luna’s been wonderful we’ve gotten quite close she and I but as we are in different houses and have very different classes we seldom see each other…”

Again Harry interrupted. “And what about Ginny you two’ve always been rather close, why aren’t the two of you spending time together?”

Hermione sighed, “Ginny’s spending a lot of time on her Quidditch as she’s captain and she wants to make a go of it as a professional player,” Hermione paused and gnawing her lower lip nervously for several seconds before she said “to be honest Ginny hasn’t had much use for me since you called things off with her.”

Harry frowned; he had ended things with Ginny before she’d returned to Hogwarts. In the aftermath of the war he and Ginny had attempted to rekindle their romance from before but Harry had found that he was not the same person he had been. He found that all he had been through, all the losses and the general unpredictability of his moods were too much to deal with along with Ginny’s expectations. There was the further issue of his simply not feeling as drawn to her as he once had. After speaking to Hermione at length about the matter Harry had come to the conclusion that it was best for them both if they ended things before the situation became more muddled than it already was. Suddenly, Harry realized the problem. “She’s upset with you on account of me calling things off with her.”

With a deep sigh Hermione nodded her head. “She knows that you asked me what you should do and she thinks I could have done a bit more to encourage you to give things between the two of you more time.”

Harry shook his head, “Hermione I’m...” She waved off his words. “Its all right really. Ginny will come around eventually once she gets over her hurt feelings. Its just a bit lonely sometimes watching everyone else with their friends having a laugh as they head off to Hogsmeade when my best friend is off starting his brilliant career as an auror while I’m sat in the library looking up ingredients for potions.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Harry’s question hung in the air between them for several moments before Hermione inclined her head. “I got special permission from Professor McGonagall to floo here today instead of going to Hogsmeade with everyone else. I came early thinking we could make a day of it but when I arrived Kreacher informed me that you were on a bender and he made it sound like this had become a regular habit of yours so…”

Harry interjected. “So you came upstairs in a huff and dropped me on my bloody head!” She nodded the asked, “Is this drinking yourself into a stupor becoming a standard activity for you?”

Pressing his lips together, Harry sighed and closed his eyes as he answered back. “I’ve only ever been that pissed one other time,” he paused to expel a second sigh before adding, “but I have been drinking a bit more than the occasional butterbeer here and there.”

He could feel the reproachful glare he knew she was leveling at him. “Harry, that’s not the type of habit you need to start in on. It’s not healthy to start and as you have a tendency to brood when you’re upset or stressed with you training to be an auror by the time you’re fully qualified you’ll be a bloody alcoholic!”

Though he knew she hadn’t meant it to be funny the picture Hermione had painted of him in his mind’s eye staggering around in soiled and unkempt auror’s robes with a bottle of fire whiskey in his hand set his shoulders shaking with mirth. Thinking that Harry was having a laugh at her concern, Hermione snapped her mouth tightly shut and folded her arms across her chest and stared out of the snow dusted windows a clearly annoyed and affronted expression covering her face.

Seeing that his laughter had upset her, Harry composed himself and reaching across the space separating them pulled Hermione into his arms, “I wasn’t laughing at you I was laughing at the rather comical picture you painted of me… the great Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, a common drunk, you have to admit the image is somewhat funny.” A smile ghosted across her face as she bit her lip and conceded, “That is funny actually.” Harry playfully tugged one of her russet colored curls and said, “I’m sorry that I haven’t been much of a friend lately.”

Hermione shook her head and answered in reply. “You don’t have to apologize I know that you’ve been busy and I understand that you are under a fair amount of pressure right now,” Hermione turned and wrapped her arms snugly about Harry’s waist and rested her head against his shoulder as she whispered, “I’ve just missed you.”

Harry shut his eyes and summoned every ounce of willpower in his possession to stop his heart from beating out a tattoo similar to that of a herd of stampeding Hippogriffs. Taking a deep breath to steady himself in replied in a hoarse whisper “I’ve missed you too.” He felt her smile as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. Instinctively he wrapped his arms more tightly about her and rested his jaw atop her bushy hair. He allowed himself a minute to fix the moment in his memory before he disentangled himself from her and stood to his feet, extending his hand to her he said, “Come on, up you get, we’ve already wasted two hours, you’ll be due back at Hogwarts soon and we’ll have spent the whole day moping about.” Hermione smiled brightly as she jammed her feet back into her shoes and took Harry’s hand.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Harry and Hermione left Grimmauld Place and headed to the nearest tube station and made their way to Whiteley's shopping centre and Portobello Market to do a big of browsing and bumming about. After an hour or so of that they had worked up a rather fierce appetite having had such a meager breakfast so they stopped in one of the pubs along Baker Street and had lunch. From there they decided to look in on Hermione’s mum and dad, who were immensely pleased to see them both. They whiled away an hour or two there before leaving to catch some French film that Helen had thought Hermione would love to see. Jonathan had warned Harry that it wasn’t the sort of thing that a bloke was likely to enjoy but as Hermione wanted to see it and they only had the one afternoon to see it Harry had made up his mind to endure it. It turned out that the chance to sit in a darkened movie theater with Hermione’s fingers woven into his own had been worth trying to sort out the subtitles flashing across the screen. After the movie they stopped for a coffee before strolling back to Grimmauld Place.

It had been a perfect day and Harry was more than a little reluctant to see it end but Hermione had to get back to Hogwarts. Standing in front of the kitchen fireplace Hermione turned to Harry and wrapped him in a tight, warm hug. “Thank you for today, it was really nice being able to get away for a bit.”

Harry returned the hug and murmured, “Yeah it was really nice.” Hermione smiled, “Maybe sometime you could come up to Hogwarts and we could go and visit Ron at the Hogsmeade store, he’d love to see you. Harry nodded and said something that sounded like ‘Yeah maybe’. Hermione tightened her hold just a bit before stepping back and reminding him of his promises to owl more often and to cut back on the drinking. Harry promised that he would. Seemingly satisfied with his assurances Hermione hugged him once more and brushed a kiss against his left cheek before turning and tossing a handful of shimmering green powder into the flames. As the flames turned emerald Hermione stepped inside the fireplace called out ‘Private Head Girl’s quarters Hogwarts School’ with a contented smile and a wave she went swirling out of view.

Harry stood there watching the flames turn back to their normal orangey red, his fingers delicately rubbing the spot where Hermione’s lips had touched his cheek. He had spent the last seven or so weeks trying to put as much distance between himself and Hermione as he was certain that remaining so close to her given his feelings for her was not the best idea. After all it would only have been torture for him being so near her but unable to confess how he truly felt for her out of deference to his long standing friendship with Ron. And now he’d gone and promised her that he wouldn’t hide himself away from her anymore. Moreover, he also promised her that he would stop drinking so now he didn’t even have an outlet to aid him in more despairing moments. But ever since the horcrux hunt he’d found it difficult to deny her anything considering what she had sacrificed for him. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair as he wondered just what in the name of Merlin had he gotten himself into.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

More important things

Chapter 2: The Burdens of Behaving Normally

I should have stayed home. As he looked around the crowded, brightly lit, noisy interior of the Three Broomsticks that was the thought that pervaded Harry’s mind – I should have stayed home. He could have said that Andromeda wasn’t feeling well so he had to watch Teddy or he could have invented some story about having training that evening and saved himself his present agony. But as much as he would have loved to have begged off he wouldn’t have missed Ron’s birthday celebration for anything in the world. His refusal to miss the event had nothing to do with the gangly red head that had made it to the ripe old age of nineteen despite being his best mate and everything to do with the brown haired witch on Ron’s arm.

Hermione. Harry sighed and took another sip of his butterbeer. It had been three and a half weeks since she had turned up at Grimmauld Place and in that space of time Harry had learned that the old adage was true absence indeed made the heart grow fonder. Not that he could truthfully say he was absent from Hermione considering the promise he’d made and kept. Since her visit Harry and Hermione had been conversing regularly by owl and by floo. The Monday evening following their Saturday together Harry had arrived home from the Ministry to find an owl perched on his dresser. He had instantly known that the scroll of parchment the tawny owl was carrying was from Hermione. He also knew that the bird would have been given explicit instructions to wait for a reply. Knowing how impatient she would be to hear back from him Harry had made a point of showering and having dinner before he read the letter and answered back, which meant it had been nearly midnight when she’d gotten his letter and still she’d written him a lengthy reply in response. He’d smiled when he awoke the next morning to find the tawny owl once again sitting on his dresser, a scroll of parchment strapped to his leg. He had replied before heading off to work with a rather pleased smile on his face. The knowledge that he would likely have a letter from Hermione waiting for him when he got home had made the day much more bearable.

Since they had begun speaking on a regular basis again everything seemed to have become more bearable. Harry found that the malaise and ill humor that had filled his days the preceding months had lifted considerably. It was this knowledge, this simple fact that had alerted Harry to the extent to which he had always depended on Hermione as a source of comfort and understanding. This revelation made it clear why his conscious spoke in Hermione’s voice and why her opinion of him had always mattered more than anyone else’s. She was his touch stone, his safe harbor and without her he hadn’t been able to tell which end was up. Harry realized then that a great deal of his anxiety and stress of the past few months had been nothing more than his missing Hermione, her comforting presence and her understanding manner. The lost of this necessary and important source of support had resulted from Harry’s feeling the need not to burden anyone else with his problems as they all seemed to have enough to be getting on with without having to be bothered with his issues as well. He had also thought it was high time that he took care of his own affairs without others deciding his course of action for him. He had also thought it best not to intrude upon Hermione and Ron as they were just settling into their new status, he’d chosen to ignore the slightly queasy feeling the thought of his two best friends as a couple engendered.

Harry looked up from his butterbeer and allowed his eyes to drift across the room to the booth near the back where The Weasley Women were seated. There was Molly, Ginny, Fleur, Angelina, Audrey, Percy’s fiancée and of course Hermione. She was smiling about something that Audrey had said. A scowl darkened his face as he turned his gaze back towards the bar and his half consumed butterbeer. Raising the bottle to his lips he knocked the remaining contents back in a single gulp before motioning to Rosemerta and ordering a glass of her famous oak matured mulled meade. He thanked Rosemerta as she deposited the drink before him. The sound of Hermione’s voice pulled his gaze back across the room. Ron had joined the table; he was sitting with his arm draped about Hermione’s shoulders staring at her expectantly. Hermione was staring back sternly as she said, “Ron we’re in public.” Ron smiled as he cajolingly retorted. “C’mon it’s my birthday.” The stern expression that had been covering Hermione’s face melted away as she smiled slightly and replied, “All right but you’d better behave yourself.” Ron smiled and waggled his eyebrows suggestively as he leaned into Hermione. Harry averted his gaze before their lips made contact but his not seeing the kiss did nothing to dispel the image from his mind nor did it prevent him from hearing the catcalls and shouted exclamations of Seamus, Dean and the other somewhat sloshed wizards in the room. Harry’s scowl deepened as he thought to himself for the hundredth time that evening – I really should have stayed home.

“You have never enjoyed parties. I remember back in sixth year when you took me to Slughorn’s Christmas party, you seemed preoccupied all night. And at Bill and Fleur’s wedding reception you didn’t seem to be having fun there either, you didn’t dance or have any cake. Shame that, it was a lovely cake, it had raspberry filling.”

At the sound of Luna’s dreamy voice Harry turned around on his stool a slight smile turning the corners of his lips as he said, “Hello Luna.”

Luna cocked her head to the side and in lieu of an actual greeting asked, “You don’t suppose its arylgaluffs do you?”

Harry chewed his lip for a moment before querying Luna in reply, “What exactly are arylgaluffs?”

“Miniscule sprites of discontent that buzz about at parties, they’re quite fond of alcohol and if swallowed can create a most unhappy party goer.” Luna peered more closely at Harry and with a shake of her head added, “No, you’re still just mooning over Hermione.” Luna smiled brightly at this pronouncement and dropped onto the stool beside Harry and ordered a gillywater with extra cocktail onions.

Harry swiveled back around in his seat as he addressed Luna. “Don’t say mooning, say brooding; it sounds much manlier.”

Luna turned her head and stared at Harry pointedly, eyeing him up and down, “Hmmm, you are looking exceptionally virile, nowhere near as scrawny as you used to be…” Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at being described as scrawny. Luna either ignored or did not see Harry’s reaction to her remark as she prattled on. “Not that you were ever unattractive by any means, you have always been rather handsome and your eyes are too striking for words, but this new you, this square-jawed, broad shouldered, muscled, strong and silent, brooding you is very, very appealing. You’ve got the attention of every female here,” Luna directed her gaze up at the mirror above the bar and raised her eyebrows to indicate the witches milling about the room casting appreciative glances in Harry’s direction, “you should ask one of them to dance, the end result would do wonders to improve your mood.”

Harry followed the direction of Luna’s eyes and caught a glimpse of several young witches including Romilda Vane eyeing him with particular interest. Looking back at Luna he asked, “And exactly what would the end result be?”

Popping a cocktail onion into her mouth she chewed thoughtfully for a moment then spoke, “Well if you choose one of the ones that intensely annoys Hermione you’ll definitely get her attention, which is what you’d prefer, but if that doesn’t work you could at least wind up getting a shag out of the deal.”

Harry choked on the gulp of meade he’d taken. Luna reached over and whacked him on the back as he spluttered and gasped. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand Harry asked, “Why do you think I’d want to shag one of them?” Luna replied dispassionately as she speared another onion. “Of course you don’t want to shag any of them, you want to shag Hermione,” she pointedly ignored the scandalized glare he shot at her, “but as you’ve decided not to act on your feelings I think you’d find it much easier to endure her snogging Ron if you had someone to snog yourself.”

“It’s not that easy Luna,” was his quiet reply.

Her retort came quickly, “Only because you make it difficult Harry.”

He turned to glare at her, “What would you have me do Luna, she made her choice, she’s with Ron.”

“She didn’t choose Ron, in order to make a choice one has to know they have more than one option. You’ve never told Hermione how you feel so she’s never been able to consider you as an option. She’s with Ron because you insist upon being self-sacrificing.”

Harry frowned at Luna’s assessment of his behavior. “What’s to say that she would even want me if she knew how I felt? There’s nothing to say that things would be any different.”

Luna shrugged, “There’s nothing to say it’d be the same either.”

Having reached an impasse in their conversation the two sat quietly for the next few minutes finishing their drinks. As Luna popped the last onion from her gillywater into her mouth she turned to Harry and said. “I suggest you ask that blond down the end of the bar to dance, she’s been eyeing you all night and I don’t think she’d be averse to spending the night with you if asked.” Having said that Luna pecked Harry on the cheek and wandered off aimlessly into the crowd.

He stared after her for a few seconds before turning back to his now empty glass. Rosemerta asked if he like another meade, Harry shook his and asked for another butterbeer.

“You know that you’re of age now and you are allowed to drink something a touch stronger than a butterbeer.” Ron clapped Harry on the back and turning to Rosemerta ordered two fire whiskeys. Taking up the seat that Luna had just vacated Ron sat down and raised the glass before him and with a grin said “To me.” Harry smiled and shook his head as he raised his glass of fire whiskey and said “Happy birthday Ron.” They downed the alcohol in one go. Ron ordered another round but Harry shook his head at Rosemerta tapping the bottle of butterbeer before him.

Ron raised an eyebrow at this. Harry answered the unspoken question by saying, “I’ve got work in the morning and we’re running simulation drills so I’ll need my wits about me.” Ron nodded in understanding. Sipping his second whiskey he asked, “How’s that coming along, your training?”

Harry shook his head from side to side. “It’s coming along all right I suppose, lots of long hours and its pretty taxing mentally and physically, but I’ve had worse.”

Ron chuckled. “Yeah you have.” Harry smiled. Ron asked another question. “So how are you doing keeping up with things? Did it matter your not being fully qualified – or has all the other stuff you’ve done made up for that.”

Harry pondered the question for a moment before speaking, “It would have been good to have the extra knowledge that completing my seventh year would have given me but as Robards is moving in a new direction with the program its not as big a deal as it would have been a few years ago.” Ron cut in. “What do you mean a new direction?” Harry took a sip of his butterbeer then said. “The Ministry’s finally catching on to the fact that different experiences and points of view have their benefits.” Ron laughed as he finished off the last of his drink. It was Harry’s turn to ask a question. “Are you still considering joining up?” Ron nodded. “Yeah still thinking about it but it’s up in the air at the moment, whether I join will depend on whether Lee comes on as a partner with George, that’ll mean there’ll be another body to run the Hogsmeade shop, I don’t want to leave him in a lurch. And then there’s Hermione to consider.”

Harry looked up and asked, “Hermione, what about Hermione?” Ron shrugged. “Well I’ve got to think about what she’d want, don’t I. I mean she’ll be finished with school in a few more months and we’ll have to make all those decisions about what jobs to take and where we want to live and all that…” Harry interjected. “Where you want to live? You’re talking like the two of you are engaged or something.” Ron shrugged again. “Well no, not yet, but its definitely coming round to that. I wasted a lot of time before being a stupid, jealous git I don’t plan on doing that again.”

Harry was speechless. Though he’d known that Ron and Hermione had fancied each other for a long time he had no idea that they were so serious that they were discussing marriage. He wondered why in all the letters that he and Hermione had been exchanging over the past few weeks she hadn’t bothered to mention the fact that she and Ron were all but engaged and were halfway down the aisle. Wasn’t this the kind of thing that friends talked about? Why hadn’t she mentioned it? The sound of Ron’s voice drifted into Harry’s disarrayed thoughts and he realized that Ron had started talking again.

“Speaking of relationships, are you seeing anyone these days?”

Harry looked over at Ron who had turned in his seat and was gazing across the room at something or other and replied “No, don’t really have much time for dates.”

Ron nodded his head and said. “Ginny’s picked back up with Dean, though I don’t think it’s anything serious.”

Harry closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily slightly dislodging his glasses. This was about the tenth time since he had called things off with Ginny that Ron had brought up the state of their love lives, or the lack thereof. He couldn’t seem to accept the fact that Harry and Ginny were over. Resigning himself to rehashing the matter once more Harry said, “Good on Ginny, Dean’s a good bloke.”

Ron sighed. “Yeah he’s all right but he isn’t you, and seeing as how Ginny is still in love with you and I suspect you’ve still got feelings for her I don’t really see much point in Dean!”

“What makes you think I’ve still got feelings for Ginny?” Ron smiled slightly at Harry’s question. “Well considering the fact that very nearly every of age witch in Britain would love to have a go at you, you haven’t been on one date since you two broke up. And you’ve been sitting over here at the bar all night scowling at the exact table where my sister, your ex-girlfriend happens to be sitting. I could be wrong but I think that would fall under the heading of sill having feelings for.”

Harry sighed. Ron thought he was looking at Ginny not Hermione. But considering that Ron had no idea that he had feelings for Hermione what else would he have thought it was. Harry took another swig of his butterbeer before speaking again. “Ron, Ginny’s accepted that she and I are over and she’s moving on with her life could you please do the same and give up on this getting us back together nonsense.” As an afterthought he added, “Not everyone gets their happily ever after.”

Ron swung around in his seat and stared at Harry following that assertion. There was a pitch to Harry’s voice when he said those last words that gave Ron the impression that there was someone else. Someone who Harry was obviously interested in but who he felt he had no chance with. For some reason this notion gave Ron an uneasy feeling. He wanted to question Harry further but the uneasiness he felt stopped him. Instead he allowed Harry to turn the conversation to other far less unsettling topics.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Harry had come to the conclusion that he had picked the wrong time to give up drinking. The news that Hermione Jean Granger was on the verge of becoming Hermione Jean Weasley would have been much easier to swallow if his throat had a coating of fire whiskey, or gin or something else that burned sufficiently. It had been hard enough trying to endure watching Hermione date Ron, the kissing and touching had nearly driven him mad, but this… marriage… surely that would kill him. How could he stand by and watch as they built a life together? Could he really watch the woman he loved be the wife of another man, even if that man was Ron?

What made matters worse was the conversation he had had with Luna earlier in the evening. Luna had implied that things may have been different if he had been Gryffindor enough to tell Hermione how he truly felt. Luna had implied that had she known Hermione may have made a different choice. Harry allowed himself to contemplate for a moment the possibility that Hermione could or would want him half as much as he wanted her. As he sat there imagining some unknown universe in which he’d had the courage to tell Hermione how he felt and she had chosen him over Ron. As his mind processed the unreality Hermione sidled up to him and said.

“I’d ask if you were having fun but judging from the fact that you’ve barely moved from this stool all night I’m pretty sure that’s not the case.”

Harry blinked and looked around to his left to find Hermione beside his seat smiling rather amusedly at him. With an indifferent shrug he answered back. “Must be the arylgaluffs.”

Hermione’s face contorted itself into a confused expression as she asked, “Arylgaluffs, what are arylgaluffs?” Harry attempted an explanation, “They’re alcoholic sprites that don’t like parties or something like that Luna said.”

Hermione smiled and nodded, “Ah, another of Luna’s fanciful creatures are they.” Harry nodded. Hermione posed another question “Yes well passing over the arylgaluffs, are you enjoying yourself otherwise.”

Again Harry nodded. Hermione studied his expression. Harry guessed that she was trying to determine if he was telling her the truth or not. She had just opened her mouth to speak when Harry surprised them both and asked, “Care to take a turn around the dance floor?”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she said, “You don’t dance.” Harry smiled at her baffled expression. “And that wasn’t an answer,” standing to his feet and extending a hand to her he asked, “yes or no.” Hermione slipped her hand into his and intertwined their fingers. Harry turned and steered them to the dance floor.

As they stepped onto the makeshift dance floor an up tempo song from some group called the Warlocks was playing. George and Angelina were thoroughly enjoying the tune, wildly dancing to the music. Harry stationed himself and Hermione a good ways away to avoid the couple’s flailing arms. They dance through the end of the Warlocks tune and another by a group they’d never heard of before a slow number by he Weird Sisters came on. Harry gave Hermione an awkward smile as he held his hands palm up, one slightly higher than the other, asking if she’d rather sit this one out. Hermione smiled as she took Harry’s hands in her own and placed the right around her waist and clasped the left in her own. As they began to sway to the music Harry noticed the reemergence of the herd of stampeding Hippogriffs where his heart should have been. And then Hermione laid her head against his chest and the herd ceased their stampeding as did every other thing in the world, his left hand found its way to her waist and he pulled her more snugly to him. He heard what sounded like a sigh escape her lips as he laid his cheek atop her head. He could have stayed that way with Hermione for eternity but the next thing he knew Ron was at his side tapping him on the shoulder staring expectantly at Hermione. Harry forced himself to smile as he stepped back from Hermione and graciously bowed out for Ron. Hermione squeezed his hand and thanked him with a bright smile for the dance before turning and snuggling into Ron.

Harry turned and headed for the door, snatching up his cloak from the coat rack by the door he decided that Luna had been right, it would be much easier to endure Hermione and Ron carrying on if he had someone, unfortunately the only person he wanted belonged to someone else.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

More important things

Chapter 3: The Object of His Affection

“What would you have me do Luna, she made her choice, she’s with Ron.”

“She didn’t choose Ron, in order to make a choice one has to know they have more than one option. You’ve never told Hermione how you feel so she’s never been able to consider you as an option. She’s with Ron because you insist upon being self-sacrificing.”

Harry frowned at Luna’s assessment of his behavior. “What’s to say that she would even want me if she knew how I felt? There’s nothing to say that things would be any different.”

Luna shrugged, “There’s nothing to say it’d be the same either.”

In the month and a half since Ron’s birthday Harry had replayed his conversation with Luna concerning his feelings for Hermione in his head countless times. Luna had been adamant in her belief that Harry stood as much chance as Ron had in winning Hermione’s heart had he been brave enough to voice his feelings. Luna was even more resolute in her belief that were he to confess the nature of his feelings to Hermione now, even though she was with Ron that he stood a fair likelihood of getting the one thing he desired most, the chance to be with Hermione. When Harry had questioned her on how she had come to that particular conclusion Luna had told him that the whole of his and Hermione’s relationship; the way she had always supported and advanced him was a clear indication that what she felt for him was more than friendship. She further informed him that it was her experience that females seldom responded quite so passionately to kisses with members of the opposite sex with whom they were not fond. Harry imagined that Luna had been smiling when she’d penned those words. Looking down at the roll of parchment which bore Luna’s dainty handwriting Harry’s attention was caught by the one question of Luna’s that he had neglected to answer in the volley of letters they had written to each other over the past few weeks. Harry had yet to respond to Luna’s query of: Why did you step aside for Ron? Harry translated this question into Luna asking him why he had been such a coward about the whole thing. He didn’t like to think of himself as a coward as that was the one thing he despised more than anything else in the world. He felt this way mainly because that was what Voldemort had been – a coward.

Tom Riddle had been a weak and fearful excuse for a human being who unable to deal with the realities of the world had set out to make the world conform to his ideals thus creating a place where he and he alone could be content. And though this was cowardice in the extreme Harry had to acknowledge the fact that he too was guilty of the same type of cowardice albeit in a somewhat different form.

Due to a conjunction of unlucky events and horribly bad genetics Tom Riddle had never truly known or felt love as a result he had underestimated the power of the emotion at every turn. Harry on the other hand, had known love, though he was too young at the time to remember it. He knew deep inside himself what it was to be cherished and accepted, to be cared for, to belong; he had had that with his parents and though he could not recall any of it he knew it to be true in his heart and in his soul. His years with the Dursleys hadn’t rent the knowledge from him despite how hard they had tried to do so. He had spent those years with his relatives knowing that something was missing but never quite figuring out what it was. It was only with the arrival of Hagrid and his reintroduction into the wizarding world that he began to understand what had been missing, what he had been searching for; that sense of belonging, the feeling of being accepted. It was Ron who had given that feeling back to him.

Ron had been the first person to brave the myth of the Boy – Who – Lived in order to get to know a skinny, knobby-kneed, little orphan in too large clothes and patched glasses named Harry. In spite of the fame and celebrity that had surrounded him Ron had befriended him and in doing so had given Harry back a portion of the life that had been lost to him when Voldemort killed his parents all those years before. Ron’s friendship had given Harry a pseudo home complete with loving parents and a load of boisterous siblings. Ron’s friendship had provided Harry with a place where he was always welcome and more importantly a place where he felt wanted. It was this sense of familial bliss, the warm feeling that came from being loved, that Harry had been missing and it was through Ron that he had regained this fundamental piece of his core which had, ultimately, enabled him to defeat Voldemort. This was also the reason behind his newfound cowardice.

The moment that his lips had touched Hermione’s Harry had felt the whole of his world shift. It was as if his eyes had opened for the first time. Every moment of the previous six years with Hermione played out before him and he recognized for the first time how deeply devoted to him Hermione had always been and suddenly, he realized that what he was fighting for wasn’t only the nameless faceless masses of the wizarding and muggle worlds, it wasn’t only the memory of his parents and Sirius, it was all that and something infinitely more precious. What he was really fighting for was the woman he was holding in his arms, the woman who had sent her parents off without even a memory of her to their credit, the woman who had walked away from everyone and everything that was and had ever been important to her to be there for him… he was fighting for Hermione, he was fighting so that the world would be safe for her. He realized that he would gladly give up his own life for her without one moment’s hesitation. In the instant that his lips had touched Hermione’s, Harry’s world had condensed itself to its very essence and he’d found that the essence of his world was in fact Hermione.

Yes he had known that he loved Hermione the moment their lips met but when the kiss abruptly ended instead of going after her and professing his feelings for her he was reminded of the task before him. Voldemort had to be destroyed if for no other reason than to protect her. Weighing his options he told himself that if he survived the ordeal with Voldemort there would be time enough after everything was done to tell her how he truly felt. He had barely formed the idea before he’d seen and followed the silver doe to the lake where Ron rescued him. It was during their destruction of the horcrux contained within the locket that Harry saw Ron’s fears of inadequacy played out before him. Seeing Ron’s worst fears brought back to mind the days immediately following his departure and how inconsolable Hermione had been. He also remembered the anxious manner in which she had retreated from him following their kiss, finally he though of how kind the Weasleys had been to him and how much he was indebted to them all for the care and love they had given him. Taking all of those things into consideration along with the fact that Ron had just saved his life Harry kept his feelings to himself and after seeing the extremely intense reaction to Ron’s coming back he had as Luna so aptly put it stepped aside to allow his best friends to pursue whatever course they chose.

It was only now; having had a year to consider it that Harry could see the flaw in his thinking. At the time that he had made his decision he had been, as he often did, thinking of what was best for everyone save himself. He was as Luna was fond of telling him, entirely too selfless. Though she believed that this tendency of his was somehow woven into the very fabric of his being and thus was not something he could prevent himself from doing. She also owned to the fact that the behavior did come in handy when one was dealing with insane dark wizards who needed getting rid of. It was now fairly clear to Harry that he had done exactly what Luna had accused him of doing; he had taken Hermione’s choice away. By not telling her how he felt he had not only deprived himself of potential happiness but he had quite possibly deprived Hermione of it as well.

Looking back on the whole of their relationship he could see where the line between friendship and something more had often been blurred. And when he looked back on their time together during the horcrux hunt after Ron had abandoned them he saw that their time together without Ron had been marked by an awareness and intimacy that should have been awkward but had instead been comfortable and reassuring. Harry grasped the fact that he had always been happiest and most at ease when in Hermione’s presence and that while he had been perfectly resigned to forgoing Ron’s friendship forever on those occasions when Ron had walked away from the friendship he was never quite himself when at odds with Hermione. Her presence in his life was a necessity that he neither could nor would live without.

Looking up from where his gaze had been fixed on Luna’s letter Harry had finally made his decision. Sliding open the drawer of his desk, he hastily deposited his correspondence with Luna back into the drawer from whence it had been retrieved. He then rose from his seat and headed out of the library and up the hall to his bedroom.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

“Hermione… Hermione… Her – mi – o – ne…”

Hermione forced out a slow deep breath and tried exceedingly hard not to show how annoyed she was at the present moment. Composing her face into as neutral an expression as possible she turned to Ron and lowered his left hand which he had been holding in front of her face snapping her fingers successively to get her attention and asked in a clearly annoyed fashion, “Did you want something Ronald?”

A frown creased Ron’s brow at the use of his proper name that was a sure sign that Hermione was narked at him for something. He supposed she must be put out about his interrupting her studying – she’d always hated it when someone interrupted her studies – but considering how little they saw of each other he reckoned it wouldn’t have killed her to put her work aside long enough to indulge his having ventured over to the castle for a visit. For the millionth time Ron wondered why Hermione always felt the need to be so exacting why couldn’t she ever just let go and enjoy the moment. Especially considering that she was one of the privileged few who were allowed guests while at Hogwarts. McGonagall and the school governors had instituted a number of special rules for the students in the seventh year that would have otherwise left school but had returned to complete their studies, one of which was the allowance of family visits. Following the demise of Voldemort and the end of the second war there had been a flood of impromptu weddings and engagements among those lucky enough to have survived the final battle – there had also been quite a few divorces as well. But as there were more than a few married and engaged seventh years in Hogwarts McGonagall had coerced the governors into allowing students in such positions to receive floos and occasional visits from their significant others. As Head Girl and one of the principal heroes of the war Hermione was allowed the privilege of receiving visits from Ron in her private quarters though she and he were neither married nor engaged at the moment.

“Ronald!” The sound of his name being called brought Ron out of his thoughts and back to the present moment. Hermione was staring at him with an expression that was equal parts irritation and exasperation. With a shrug of his shoulders he asked, “What?”

Hermione made no attempt to cover her displeasure, “You turn up unannounced in the middle of my studying snapping your fingers wanting my attention and when you get it you sit there staring into space not saying a word and when I ask what you wanted you ask me what!”

Ron grinned a bit sheepishly as he took a healthy swig of his butterbeer and muttered, “Sorry, mind drifted a bit.” Hermione nodded and continued to wait for him to continue on with what he had been saying. When nothing was forthcoming she prodded him a bit, “Well are you going to tell me what it was you were going on about earlier?” Ron jiggled his head up and down as he reiterated his earlier statement, “I said I think that Harry’s interested in someone.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she inquired, “Interested in someone, what gave you that impression? Has he mentioned someone in particular?”

A frown covered Ron's face as he shook his head in reply. “No he didn’t mention anyone exactly, it was just something he said a couple of weeks back at my birthday; it go me wondering.” Curious as to what Harry could have possibly said, Hermione asked, “What exactly did he say?” Ron’s frown deepened as he answered back, “It was actually more of what he didn’t say.” Hermione looked quizzically at him and Ron endeavored to make a bit more sense.

“We were sitting at the bar having a toast to my birthday and I mentioned that Ginny was on again with Dean but that it didn’t look too serious,” Ron ignored the stern look that clouded Hermione’s face at his allusion to getting his best friend back together with his sister and persisted with his story. “I told him that I knew Ginny still loved him and that I reckoned his feelings for her were along the same lines as hers considering I’d seen him looking over at the table where she’d been sitting most of the night scowling and that’s when things went all funny.”

Hermione interjected, “Went all funny how?”

“Well Harry told me that Ginny had accepted that they were through and that I should too. Then he said something about everybody not getting their happily ever after and I was about to tell him that his happily ever after was sitting just across the room when I noticed the way he’d said it. There was this kind of longing in his voice that I’d never heard before and it made me think that there was somebody that he fancied, someone that he wanted to be with but couldn’t. And I can’t for the life of me make sense of the whole bloody thing. I know he was looking over at Ginny’s table the night of the party but I’ve known Harry long enough to know that when he said not everybody gets their happy ever after he wasn’t talking about Ginny because if she was his idea of happy ever after he would have never chucked her to begin with would he. Which brings me back to the conclusion that there is someone else that he wants but thinks he can’t have which makes less sense than anything because there’s scarcely a witch alive who wouldn’t give her eye teeth to be on the arm of Harry Potter!”

Hermione looked up and locked eyes with Ron. He was staring at her waiting for an answer to his innumerable questions and half formed theories. She put forward a possible suggestion to his quandary. “Maybe Harry just didn’t want to get into another pointless discussion of his and Ginny’s past relationship with you. So instead of having you go on and on about it he said the first thing he could think of to shut you up.”

At this suggestion Ron leveled a none to amused glare in her direction. Hermione held up her hand, stopping whatever cheeky retort was on the tip of Ron’s tongue and offered another possibility. “But as you’re convinced that’s not the case perhaps you should attempt to recall who else was sitting at or near the table to determine who your mystery witch is, provided she exists at all.”

Ron considered this option for a moment, then he held up his hand and began listing off the names of the witches sitting at the table with Ginny during his birthday, “let’s see there was Ginny of course, Mum, Fleur, Angelina, Audrey, Verity came and sat for awhile as did Luna, and Susan Bones was there for a bit when Neville was talking to Mum and you were there for most of the night as well…”

As Ron’s words washed over her a memory from the not so distant past rose unbidden to the fore of Hermione’s mind. The image of two worn, weary and disillusioned young people huddled in the entryway of a tent locked in a heated embrace clouded her vision. In her minds eye she saw Harry leaning towards her and pressing his lips against hers. She saw herself leaning into the kiss and sliding her hands and arms around Harry’s neck drawing her body closer to his. She watched as the kiss became more heated and frenzied, as she opened her mouth to him and gripped his body tightly to her own. She recalled the taste of him, the feel of his tongue against her own and the intoxicating sensation of his hands roving across her body unchecked. Ron’s voice drifted back into her conscious mind and drew Hermione back to the present moment. Ducking her head to hide the scarlet flush that she knew covered her face Hermione listened as Ron rounded off his thoughts regarding the matter they had been discussing for the past half hour or so.

“And there was Romilda Vane and her crowd, though I reckon they noticed Harry looking over at the table and were just trying to get themselves in his line of vision hoping he’d take notice of them. Come to think of it I imagine every bird in the Three Broomsticks that night walked by, stood around or sat at that table that night, I mean I was there quite a bit and as it was my birthday everyone at the party stopped and had a drink or a word with me. That and what with mostly everybody there being friends and acquaintances and wanting to catch up on each other’s news I could be at this all night and still never figure this out!”

By the end of his soliloquy Ron had paced halfway across the small common room of Hermione’s private quarters. Turning round he stared at Hermione and asked, “What do you reckon?”

Hermione returned Ron’s stare but not a single word passed her lips in reply to the question he had asked her.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

It was nearly nine and having just seen Ron off following their rather disturbing conversation about Harry, Hermione had decided to have an early night of it and was heading off to bed when the dimly lit common room glowed green and the whoosh of the floo sparked into life. Hermione reckoned Ron had forgotten something or other and turning around to inquire what was the matter was shocked to see Harry striding out of the fireplace towards her. From the determined manner in which he strode into the room Hermione knew that something was on his mind. Her thoughts immediately drifted back to earlier in the evening when Ron had been discussing Harry and the unknown witch he fancied. And though she wasn’t all together sure that there was a witch she had the sneaking suspicion that she was about to learn something very important concerning her best friend. Clearing her throat slightly she called out to him as he approached her, “Harry what in the name of Merlin are you doing here at this hour, is something wrong, are you all right?”

Harry reached Hermione just as the words had left her mouth but he did not reply to her query immediately, he stood there quietly for several moments before he said in a quiet voice, “I’m sorry for showing up like this without so much as a word but I really needed to talk to you…” He abruptly ended the explanation of his behavior as he drug his fingers maliciously through his hair. See his agitation and sensing Harry was in some advanced level of distress Hermione laid her right hand upon his forearm and placing the left against his cheek directed his gaze to hers and in a tone awash with concern asked “What’s happened?”

Harry had planned on explaining to Hermione how his feelings for her were much, much deeper than those of a friend ought to be. He had intended to tell her that he was completely and irrevocably in love with her and that he had been for more than a year now. He had meant to ask her if she did now or had she ever entertained such feelings for him. But the moment she’d placed her hands on him all rational thought fled. All the words he’d been struggling to compose evaporated like drops of water on a warm summer’s day at the feel of Hermione’s warm delicate hands on his body; heat flared through him and he acted on the one impulse he’d been fighting for months, the need to feel Hermione’s lips against his own. In lieu of the explanation he had intended to give Harry pulled Hermione into his arms and lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her.

Hermione was stunned beyond all belief as Harry drew her into his arms and placed his lips against hers. This kiss was nothing like their previous encounter when Harry’s attentions had been tentative and unsure. The faltering hesitancy that had characterized their first kiss was gone, as he drew her to him there was an unassailable air of command in his manner and no sooner than his lips touched hers was he gliding his tongue across her lips in a passion tinged appeal that Hermione’s body unconsciously responded to without the slightest apprehension. Before she was consciously aware of what was happening Hermione found herself pressed wantonly against Harry kissing him back with a fierceness that matched his own. Almost as quickly as the kiss began it ended as Hermione realizing what they were doing hastily disengaged herself from Harry’s embrace and took two steps backward from where he stood.

Harry’s first impulse was to reach out and draw her back into his arms but the mortified look on Hermione’s face stopped him from doing so. Instead he sought to say the words he’d intended to say upon first arriving. “Hermione I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that… no I did mean that... I just hadn’t meant to do it like that… without your permission and not before I’d told you how I feel about you.” Harry paused and taking a deep breath soldiered on to get the words out of his mouth before his courage failed him. “Hermione I love you… I’m in love with you… and I have been for over a year now. I’ve tried fighting it, Merlin knows I have but it’s just too bloody difficult to keep pretending that these feelings don’t exist or that they’re not driving me mad…”

Hermione raised both her hands into the air and shaking her head cried, “Stop it! Just stop it!”

Harry took a step back startled by the sudden and vehement exclamation.

“You dare to come here and tell me this now! For more than a year you’ve had these feelings and you wait until now when no good can possibly come of your declaration to tell me how you truly feel!”

“Hermione I know that I should have said something sooner. I should have told you how I felt the first time we kissed but…” Harry’s words were cut off by Hermione’s sharp intake of breath and the rapid fire sentence that followed.

“The first time we kissed! You’ve felt this way since we first kissed that night in the tent!”

Harry nodded. “I knew it the moment our lips met.”

Hermione fired off another question. “And if you knew that you felt this way then why did it take until now for you to say anything about, why not confess that night?!”

Harry ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stand even more on end than usual, as he responded. “Things were complicated at the time… there was Voldemort to be have done with and I didn’t see much point in professing my love for you before all that was done with. And then Ron came back and I thought it best to let the two of you sort things out between you and…” Harry allowed his voice to trail off; at the mention of Ron’s name Hermione’s face had suddenly blanched.

Shaking her head as if to clear it Hermione turned away and in a somewhat distressed tone said, “You should go now.”

Harry raised his voice in protest, “Hermione I…” Hermione interjected without giving him the opportunity to complete his sentence. “Harry please, just go.” Unable to deny her anything she asked of him and sorry to have been the source of her present anguish Harry set about abiding by her wishes. He turned to leave but then stopped and turning back around closed the distance separating he and Hermione in a single stride. Laying his hand gently on her shoulder he leaned down and whispered, “I never meant to hurt you I just couldn’t stand you not knowing how I felt.” He paused and tenderly kissing her temple added, “I’m sorry.” Harry then turned and covered the length of the room in four strides. Hermione stood with her back to him listening as muttered the name of his destination and the room once again glowed green. As the whoosh of the floo died away she slumped to the floor and allowed the tears that she had been holding back since she’d stepped out of Harry’s arms to flow unchecked down her cheeks.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

More important things

Chapter 4: The Inconvenience of Withheld Truths

“Hermione I love you… I’m in love with you… and I have been for over a year now.”

Hermione shook her head to clear it of her errant thoughts. It had been three weeks since Harry had turned up in her private quarters and told her that he had been in love with her for over a year. Hermione’s mind drifted back to that night.

“You dare to come here and tell me this now! For more than a year you’ve had these feelings and you wait until now when no good can possibly come of your declaration to tell me how you truly feel!”

“Hermione I know that I should have said something sooner. I should have told you how I felt the first time we kissed but…”

“The first time we kissed! You’ve felt this way since we first kissed that night in the tent!”

Harry nodded. “I knew it the moment our lips met.”

Hermione’s immediate reaction to Harry’s declaration had been anger, anger that she still felt a bit now when she recalled the events of that night. The absolute nerve of him coming to her after so much time had passed saying that he loved her and that the denial of said love was driving him mad. Any madness he was feeling was more than justified in her opinion and she had soundly wished that the madness massed itself into a lump which lodged itself in his throat and bloody well choked him. Yes she had been that angry, but as was usual with Harry, her anger dissipated as quickly as it had come, though the mention of Ron had done a great deal to cool the heat of her rage as well.

“And if you knew that you felt this way then why did it take until now for you to say anything about it, why not confess that night?!”

Harry ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stand even more on end than usual, as he responded. “Things were complicated at the time… there was Voldemort to have done with and I didn’t see much point in professing my love for you before all that was done with. And then Ron came back and I thought it best to let the two of you sort things out between you.”

It had been at the mention of Ron’s name that Hermione had remembered the rather steamy kiss that she and Harry had shared upon his entering her quarters, a kiss that she had been a full and willing participant in. A kiss that had intruded upon her dreams each night since it had occurred, a kiss that left her breathless and trembling, a kiss that should never have taken place. A shudder ran through Hermione’s body as her mind summoned the memory of Harry’s lips sculpted to hers as his hands caressed and stroked her. Shaking her head to clear it of her forbidden thoughts Hermione sighed. She was not supposed to feel this way, not about Harry, not anymore!

Hermione had always had a soft spot for Harry. How could she not? How could anyone not be enamored with someone who had endured such pain, loss and cruelty who somehow still managed to think of the safety and welfare of others before his own? At the outset she had been like every other young witch and wizard at Hogwarts when she realized that the Harry Potter was in her year; she was intrigued by the legend surrounding the bespectacled young boy with whom she shared a house and classes. Though she could not initially count herself among Harry’s friends she had watched as he stood up for and befriended those many with his fame and distinguished name would have shunned. Like all the other witches she became infatuated with the skinny lad with the lovely green eyes and unassuming demeanor. Her infatuation intensified when Harry and Ron came charging into the girl’s loo to save her from a marauding mountain troll. From that moment forward they had been friends. The friendship that was formed that day had preserved in the face of the greatest of trials and tribulations. Through petrifaction , jealously and envy – both theirs and that of others, differences of opinion and more life and death experiences than she cared to count she and Harry had been as close as any two people could be.

The question had often been asked whether or not there was more to Hermione’s relationship with Harry. Everyone who knew them had at one point thought that the two were item or at least heading in that direction – this number included Hermione’s parents, half the teachers at Hogwarts and the majority of the wizarding world. Hermione herself had even thought it possible at one time that she and Harry could have been so much more than friends but the depth and strength of their friendship was much too precious to risk with a romantic entanglement. That coupled with Harry’s infatuations Cho Chang and Ginny Weasley spoke to the fact that Hermione was not the type of girl that he went for. There was also the matter of Hermione’s own interlude with Viktor Krum and her growing attraction to and feelings for Ron. She had set aside any thought of an amorous relationship with Harry as a childhood crush until the Horcrux hunt. It had been then that things had started to change.

At the outset of the hunt for Voldemort’s horcruxes both she and Ron had expected danger and they had known that things would be difficult and to be perfectly honest they had known that Harry had precious little information to go on. But with the secure shelter of Grimmauld Place surrounding them, the means to communicate with an Order member if need be and the fortifying comfort of Kreacher’s cooking and care had made the task seem much less daunting. However the loss of these things and the addition of Voldemort’s malicious, vitriol spewing locket had unhinged the resolve and peace of the trio. Hermione had realized too late how dangerous wearing the locket was. Though she and the others had known that the soul that was housed within the locket was sentient they had not expected that its presence would be so malevolently insidious. None of them could have guessed how differently the locket would affect them when Hermione had made the decision that they should take turns wearing the horcrux.

Following Harry’s ineffectualness against the dementors while wearing the locket Hermione had seen that the horcrux caused an obvious decline in Harry’s magical abilities as well as an increase in an already pronounced combative streak, Hermione had assumed that the locket would have the same effects on both she and Ron. She had not known could not have known the manner in which the locket would play on their fears and insecurities nor did she anticipate that the bit of Voldemort’s soul that resided in the locket would possess the ability to spread his knack for spreading discord and animosity so thoroughly. The horcrux did not affect Ron and Hermione’s magical abilities instead it made them jaded, suspicious and extremely critical of Harry. In these moments they seemed to forget that Harry had told them everything that Dumbledore had told him from the very beginning. Though it was difficult for them all it was doubly difficult for Ron who unlike Harry had never really suffered any kind of adversity before. Furthermore Ron was much less graceful under pressure than Hermione was. The lack of food and comfort made him difficult to deal with but combining that with the locket turned Ron into a nasty, mean spirited sort who was impossible to live with. When Ron’s temper exploded and he left Hermione and Harry behind, she had taken it badly. She and Ron had just begun to work through their feelings for each other and were slowly embarking on the relationship that had been threatening to develop between them since the middle of their fourth year at Hogwarts.

Hermione had suspected that Ron’s actions and reactions to her were of more than a friendly sort since he’d tried to curse Malfoy with his broken wand during their second year. Though she had long known that Ron was interested in more than friendship she had never allowed herself to think of anything more because of her own infatuation with Harry. As time wore on and the intimacy between the threesome solidified their friendship Hermione put aside her feelings for Harry viewing them as a childhood fascination. Viktor’s attentions and Harry’s preoccupation with Cho Chang helped to hasten those feelings along as well. At the same time as Harry was getting over his attraction to Cho and moving on to Ginny Hermione had started to reevaluate her feelings for Ron and found that his attentions were not altogether unwanted. Ron, however, had decided to give it a go with Lavender Brown. The results of which had been months of tears and agony which had nearly convinced Hermione that she was better off remaining just friends with Ron as she had done with Harry. And she very well would have done so had it not been for the series of very long rolls of parchment home for advice from her mother that had explained Ron’s behavior as being that of someone who was jealous and insecure. It was the advice from her mother that had encouraged Hermione to give Ron the time and encouragement he seemed to need in order for them to make a go of things. In the end it had been Dumbledore’s death and Harry’s intention to put an end to Voldemort once and for all that had brought them together. And oddly enough it was that self same event that had ultimately brought her to this moment.

When Ron had walked out on she and Harry Hermione had been devastated. She had known for years that Ron often became jealous over the notoriety that Harry endured. Even more important than the jealousy was the fact that like nearly everyone else who had ever come in contact with Harry Ron suffered from the same awe and hero worship that made Harry appear as some sort of infallible deity who could do no wrong. That belief coupled with his jealousy and resentment and the negative properties and associations of wearing the locket had made it all too simple for Ron to walk away from Harry, but that had not explained why it had been so easy for Ron to walk away from her, the person he claimed to care for more than anyone else. It had been that question that led to the weeks of tears she’d shed over his departure. And though he had come back and worked hard to prove himself to both she and Harry it had been and still was that question that often caused her to doubt Ron and the earnestness of his present devotion to her. Ron had walked away from both she and Harry when they had needed him most and as much as she tried to convince herself that the circumstances surrounding his departure had been extreme she couldn’t help remembering the other times that Ron had abandoned she and Harry. No matter what she told herself she knew it was possible that Ron could walk away from them… from her again. As Hermione sat contemplating the state of her relationship with Ron the errant thought she’d been trying for the better part of two hours to keep at bay wandered into her thoughts… and what of your feelings for Harry.

Hermione sighed as she slammed the book she’d been attempting to peruse shut and with a muttered curse buried her face in her hands.

“Is your studying not going well or are you just trying to decide between Ron and Harry?”

At the sound of Luna’s querying voice Hermione jerked upright and stared wide-eyed and openmouthed at the preternaturally observant blond. Working to find her voice Hermione reddened and spluttered as she said, “Lu—Lu—Luna, I— I— I didn’t hear you walk up behind me I must have been…”

Luna waved a hand dismissively as she took the seat next to Hermione and began conversationally. “Judging by the incoherent stuttering you’re doing I would hazard a guess that you’re trying to decide between the lads and meeting no success I’d say.” Luna paused and watched Hermione’s eyes as they flickered momentarily first with denial and then with wonder. Luna reached out and patted Hermione’s hand sympathetically as she answered the unspoken questions in her friend’s eyes. “It has always been clear to me that there was something more than simple friendship between you and Harry even if the two of you weren’t quite so clued in but though I’ve always known how the two of you felt my intuition wasn’t confirmed until Christmas hols when Harry finally accepted the true nature of his feelings for you.”

Hermione stared at Luna in disbelief. “You’ve known about this since Christmas!”

Luna who was rummaging in her school bag nodded nonchalantly. “As I said I have known about it for ages, since your fourth year if I recall correctly, you two spent a lot of time together during the Triwizard Tournament. Then once I got to know the two of you personally it was clear that your auras were entwined but neither of you seemed to be heeding your own desires so I thought it best to keep my own counsel and let nature take its course, though I must admit it took longer than I anticipated.” Luna paused and smiled brightly as she pulled a copy of Nocturna Respites’ Visions and Dream Musings from the recesses of her bag. She carefully placed the book on the table as Hermione interrupted her before she could continue with her rather one sided discourse.

“You’ve been talking to Harry about this, about these feelings he thinks he has for me.”

Luna cocked her head to the side and heaved a sigh as though considering her next words cautiously before speaking them aloud. “I have been helping Harry sort through his feelings for you yes. I’ve been after him to tell you how feels for months but he’s a stubborn one is our Harry.”

Hermione frowned, “Luna you shouldn’t have been encouraging him in this— this— this—lunacy!

Luna’s face contorted itself into the serenest of expression as she replied. “You’re nearly as bad as Harry when it comes to engaging in this excess of self sacrifice. You won’t allow yourself to want what your heart wants anymore than he would initially. You’re trying to avoid what you truly feel but no matter how hard you try you can’t stop a heart from loving who it loves. Harry thought he could do that and the effort nearly drove him mad. I suspect you’ve been in love with Harry from the moment you laid eyes on him and now you know for certain that he feels the same way about you… considering that you’ve never been able to deny Harry anything that was in your power to give can you honestly deny him the one thing you’ve always wanted to give him—can you honestly deny him your love.”

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head despondently, “It’s not as easy as you make it sound Luna.”

Luna smiled at the similarity of Hermione’s words to those of Harry so many months before. She replied with the same words, “Only because you’re making it difficult Hermione.”

“I’m with Ron!”

“But would you have been if you’d had a different choice?”

Hermione stared at Luna perplexedly as she elaborated. “Some months back Harry and I had nearly the exact conversation. I was telling him that he should tell you how he felt about you but he refused on account of you having already made your choice to be with Ron. I reminded him that in order for a person to make a choice they have to know that they have options. I reminded him that you’d never been able to really choose whether you wanted to be with him or with Ron because he’d never gotten up the bollocks to tell you he was in love with you. Harry wasn’t sure that you knowing how he felt would make much of a difference in how you felt or who you were with. I told him that there was nothing to say it wouldn’t make a difference and that is what you have to ask yourself Hermione, does knowing how Harry feels make a difference in how you feel.”

Luna paused and reaching over she laid her hand gently upon Hermione’s, Hermione raised her head and opened her eyes as she nodded and in a voice barely about a whisper replied, “Yes Luna, it makes a difference, it makes all the difference in the world.”

Luna squeezed Hermione’s hand sympathetically. She sat silently by the brunette allowing her a few moments to compose herself. After several moments Hermione emitted a small sigh, “I’ve always felt more for Harry than I should. It started out as a schoolgirl’s crush and over time it developed into something deeper than I’d ever imagined was possible but he never showed the slightest inclination towards being anything other than a friend to me until Ron left us during the hunt.”

Hermione paused a second. Luna sensed that Hermione needed a sympathetic ear so she listened attentively as her friend continued speaking. “Harry and I have always been close but when it was just the two of us things changed somehow. We developed a deeper connection that was so much more than what we had before. I can hardly understand it myself let alone explain it to someone else all I know is that our relationship changed drastically during those months we were alone, it grew deeper, more intimate until we crossed the line between friendship and something more.”

Luna interrupted softly and stated more than asked, “the night that you and Harry kissed in the tent.” Hermione nodded not at all surprised that Luna knew about the kissed. “Yes, the night that we kissed in the tent, it was also the same night that Ron came back.” Luna bobbed her head up and down, signaling Hermione to go on.

“It was so sudden—the kiss—I think it caught us both off guard. So much was happening then; the search for the horcruxes had stalled, Harry had just found out about the darker side of Dumbledore’s past and then there was the matter of his anger over Ron having deserted us. I was trying to keep his spirits up despite all the difficulties we were having and I was conflicted over my growing feelings for Harry and those that I still felt for Ron whom I was angry with as well. I don’t think either of us was prepared for that kiss, we never spoke about why it happened, what we felt about it or what it all meant. Then Ron came back and Harry practically threw us together. When he never even broached the subject again I assumed it was a heat of the moment sort of thing. I never imagined that he was feeling this way, I thought I was the only one.”

Hermione lapsed into a thoughtful silence. She and Luna sat together in silence for sometime before Hermione ventured to speak again. “What in the name of Merlin am I supposed to do now Luna?” Luna’s reply was simple and straightforward. “Follow your heart Hermione, it’s the only honest answer I can give you.” Having said that Luna collected her belongings from the table and rising from her seat she left Hermione to her thoughts once again.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

More important things

Chapter 5: The Agony of Rejection

Ron stared appraisingly at his reflection in the mirror. He smoothed down an errant lock of hair and flattened down his jumper over his broad chest. Turning this way and that he puffed out his chest checking to see which profile appeared the manliest. Peering closer at the mirror Ron cleared his throat and in a husky whisper said, “Hermione you're the most beautiful…” he left off mid sentence and shook his head, dislodging the lock of hair he'd set to rights earlier. Tapping a finger against his chin he thought for a moment before deciding on a new course. Looking back up he gazed into the mirror a second time and with a self-effacing grin said, “I may not be as bright as you but I'm quick enough to know a good thing when I see it…” again he abruptly left off what he was saying. Smacking a hand to his forehead he admonished himself with a “No, no, no… can't make yourself sound like some sort of sodding idiot.” After several minutes of muttering to himself Ron looked up into the mirror a third time and heaving a sigh closed his eyes and whispered ardently, “I love you more than I can ever say and you'd make me the happiest man in the world if you'd marry me.”

“I'm flattered that you're so taken with me Ron but you're really not my type I'm not into blokes and seeing as how we're brothers I think mum and dad would be a touch put out about you proposing, not to mention what Angelina and Hermione would have to say about the whole thing.”

Ron turned around and rolled his eyes at his older brother and muttered, “I wasn't proposing to you, you git. I was practicing what I'm going to say to Hermione.”

George stepped across the threshold of Ron's bedroom grinning wider than a Cheshire cat. “So you're finally going to do it then, eh…” George paused as Ron flushed a shade of red only a Weasley could properly manage and nodded awkwardly. George's grin widened a bit more, “About time you got around to making an honest woman out of Hermione all those late night visits to the Headgirl's private quarters must be setting quite the bad example for all of McGonagall's impressionable underage witches.” George waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his brother. Ron ignored the comment and turning back towards the mirror opened the top dresser drawer and pulled out a dark indigo velvet box. Turning back around he handed the box to George. George flipped open the lid to reveal an exquisitely cut diamond nestled inside of an intricately knotted gold band. It was clear from the workmanship that the piece was Goblin wrought and had undoubtedly set Ron back a few sacks of galleons. George whistled low under his breath, “Either I'm paying you pretty well or you're robbing me bloody blind.”

Disregarding George's aside, Ron nervously asked, “Think she'll like it?” George nodded as he snapped the box shut and handed it back to Ron. “Don't know too many birds that don't like humungous shiny diamonds.”

Ron let out a terrified yelp. “Humungous shiny diamond… do you really think it's that big… I wasn't sure what to get, Hermione's not really the flashy type but I wanted to get her something that'd let her know how much I love her. But if it's humongous she may not like it and… ”

George chuckled as he interjected, “Settle down Ron I wasn't implying that she wouldn't like the ring its a right nice ring, much better than I thought you'd have done, I'm sure Hermione will love it.”

Ron's expression relaxed into a more calm aspect. Then just as quickly it reverted to its previous horrified guise as he posed another question to George. “What am I supposed to say; I mean how do you ask someone to spend the rest of their life with you and what if she says no?”

Again George chuckled, “Ron you don't need some fancy, rehearsed speech just say what's in your heart.” He paused a moment and watched as Ron nodded before adding, “As to the rest I think Hermione turning you down is the last thing you need to worry about.”

At his brother's encouraging words Ron smiled winningly. Seeing that his work was done George turned and headed out the door. As he crossed the threshold he called back over his shoulder suggestively, “I'll expect a full account of things when you get back here tomorrow night!”

Ron's only reply was a muffled laugh.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Hermione exited the Headmistress's office and stepped onto the revolving staircase in something akin to a state of shock. She had just left the library following her rather revealing conversation with Luna when Simon Atherford, a fifth year Ravenclaw prefect had come racing up to her and informed her that she was wanted in the Headmistress' office immediately. Hermione had complied straight away, but the last thing she had expected when she had been summoned to see McGonagall was an interview with the Minister for the Department of Magical Law and the Minister for Magic. Though she had known Kingsley Shacklebolt for nearly four years and considered him to be a friend nothing could have prepared her for the visit she'd just had with Kingsley, McGonagall and Delphinia Weaver.

In the year since Kingsley had taken on the job as Minister for Magic, the Ministry had undergone numerous changes the most central of which had been the process of re-educating the wizarding public in their attitudes towards Muggles and Muggleborns. Kingsley felt that one of the reasons that Voldemort had been able to secure such a stronghold and pursue his agenda in the wizarding community was because of the tendency of wizards to think themselves superior to non - magical persons and magical creatures such as House Elves, Centaurs, Goblins and the like. This fundamental way of thinking was ingrained into the very fabric of the wizarding world, particularly in its laws. It was for this reason that Kingsley and Delphinia Weaver, the new Minister for the Department of Magical Law, had journeyed to Hogwarts.

A position for a junior assistant to the Minister of Magical Law had recently become available and Kingsley had brought Minister Weaver to Hogwarts to offer the job to Hermione personally. It seems that the moment Minister Weaver had come to Kingsley and informed him that she needed someone in the position who was not only intelligent but someone who possessed equal amounts of compassion, empathy, determination, persistence and out and out toughness. Given this description Kingsley had immediately thought of Hermione. He proceeded to outline Hermione's attributes to Minister Weaver and suggested that the two meet in person. Minister Weaver readily agreed and the two set off for Hogwarts. Once they'd arrived and explained the purpose of their visit, Hermione was sent for and an impromptu interview had taken place. By the end of the hour and a half long discussion Hermione had been offered the position of junior assistant to the Minister of Magical Law. As she still had just under a month to complete her studies and her would be predecessor still had several pressing assignments to complete before his final day she'd been given a fortnight to make a decision.

As Hermione turned the corner and the suit of armor that served as the sentry to her private quarters came into view she breathed a sigh of relief. After the long conversation with Luna and the unexpected job offer Hermione had more than enough to think about. She was looking forward to a quiet night, perhaps a nice warm bath and a hot cup of tea. Hermione's hopeful imaginings of a pleasant evening ended as she stepped into the common room of her quarters and found Ron waiting for her. He was dressed in his nicest pair of slacks and a brown jumper. The absolute last thing that Hermione wanted to do was to entertain Ron especially given her earlier realizations concerning her feelings for Harry. A million possible excuses that she could give to her erstwhile boyfriend as to why tonight was not a good night for him to hang about begin to flit through Hermione's mind but she didn't get the chance to voice nary a one of them as Ron reached out and drew her into a kiss.

Hermione was startled by the action. Since her encounter with Harry three weeks prior she had been deftly avoiding Ron. It had been easy considering the fact the she was quite immersed in her N.E.W.T.S. and Ron had himself been quite busy shuttling back and forth between the Hogsmeade and London branches of the store, helping George with the new stock and the impending transition to Lee taking over Ron's responsibilities. With both their schedules being so crowded it had been easy to avoid spending much time alone with Ron. Her assiduous attempts at avoiding Ron coupled with her confusion over her feelings for a certain dark haired, green eyed wizard had pushed any thoughts of the impending moment when she would be back in Ron's presence and consequently it had also pushed any thought of Ron's penchant for snogging her the moment she entered into an empty room with him.

At the feel of Ron's lips pressed against her own Hermione unconsciously recalled the kisses she had shared with Harry, particularly the one from three weeks before; the fierce desire that swept through her at his touch and the positively wanton manner in which she had responded to his kiss; she felt none of that as Ron kissed her, she had never felt anything of sort when she kissed Ron. The realization that Harry elicited a fervor in her that Ron did not caused her to stiffen and pull away from Ron's embrace. A somber expression covered her face as she stepped away from Ron. Turning her back to him she surreptitiously wiped the rather wet remains of Ron's enthusiastic greeting from her lips.

Ron noticed the movement but being that Hermione had her back to him couldn't tell exactly what she'd done. He could see that something obviously had her flustered by the way she was bustling about the small common room tidying the table near the window that was covered in notes bearing all manner of references to Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. As he stood watching Hermione a thought occurred to him; Hermione had been fine until he'd kissed her could it be that it was his kiss that had left her so discombobulated. A slow smile spread across Ron's face he loved the fact that he could still fluster Hermione with a simple kiss. Feeling suddenly quite confident about his intended objective Ron spoke, “Sorry about that, I hope I didn't startle you too much.”

Hermione didn't immediately reply to Ron's comment. Instead she concentrated on keeping as much distance between herself and Ron as possible. When she did speak it was in an oddly formal tone she asked, “Is there something you needed Ron? I'm a bit busy what with exams and everything so I haven't much time to spare.” Ron frowned. That was not the greeting he'd been expecting. Inquiringly he replied, “Not much time to spare eh, not even for your boyfriend who's missed you terribly.”

Hermione, who had finished straightening up the table and had moved across the room to the couch and dropped down. She opened her mouth and a few stuttered words stumbled from her mouth. “I… I… um… er… I just…” Ron strode across the room and took up a seat beside her cutting off the remainder of her halting reply, “I know I should of owled first but I haven't seen that lovely face of yours in ages and… well there's something rather important I wanted to ask you.”

There was a hopeful edge to Ron's words that caused Hermione to really look at Ron. Once again she took in his appearance; he was wearing the tailored black slacks and the brown cashmere sweater that her mum had given him for Christmas. She could see that he had taken the time to shave and that he'd meticulously combed his hair. He was also wearing cologne. Hermione's thoughts drifted back to Christmas dinner at the Burrow and Ron's birthday party at the Three Broomsticks and Molly's not so subtle hints about she and Ron needing to get on with it and make things official. The reality of what was about to happen slammed into her with the force of a stunning spell… Ron was about to propose. Hermione took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she had to do next. “Ron there's something I need to tell you.”

Ron threaded his fingers through Hermione's and smiled, “Can it wait a bit… I think you'll want to hear what I have to ask, as a matter of fact I'm sure that once you hear what I've got to ask you'll probably hate that you interrupted me at all.” Hermione looked at Ron's wide smile and his pleased expression and sighed internally, it was clear that he was not going to stop himself, taking a deep breath she said, “Ron please, it would be better for us both if you didn't ask your question, it would only make what I have to tell you more difficult.” The edge in Hermione's tone caught Ron's attention. With a confused and curious expression on his face Ron said, “You know what I'm planning to ask you.” Hermione nodded. Ron spoke again, “And you don't want me to.” Hermione nodded a second time. He didn't bother to ask how Hermione how she had guessed his intentions - it was Hermione after all he had long accepted that she knew practically everything there was to know - instead he asked the one question that mattered. It came quickly in a forced and clipped tone. “Why?”

Hermione wasn't sure what to say or where to begin. How did you tell your boyfriend that you couldn't be with him because you were in love with his best friend? Not knowing what else to do she took a deep breath and carefully began, “I love you a great deal, Ron. We've been through so much together over the years… been so close… it would be impossible to imagine my not loving you. You're far more to me than just my boyfriend, you're one of my best friends, but as much as I care for you, as much as I love you I can't be with you…” Ron's eyes widened in surprise at Hermione's words, he opened his mouth as though to argue or question her statement but Hermione prevented his interrupting her by resiliently continuing, “I can't be with you Ron because as much as I care about you as much as I love you its not enough…”

Ron interjected then. “Hermione what are you saying? Are you… are you breaking things off with me?” Hermione averted her gaze from Ron's and in a voice no more audible than a whisper she replied, “I'm sorry.” Ron shook his head as if trying to clear it. He tightened his grip on Hermione's lifeless hands. “Hermione you can't mean that! Where is this coming from? What did I do wrong?”

Hermione shook her head, “Ron you haven't done anything wrong. Its nothing you've done…” Ron's violently cut across Hermione's words. “If its not me then what is it! Why are you doing this?” There was a strange undercurrent added to the confusion in Ron's voice now. Thus, Hermione's tone was placating when she answered “Its truly not you Ron, its me. You deserve someone who can love you completely and unreservedly… someone who is fully devoted to you. I… I'm… I'm not that person Ron. I love you but I'm in love with you. Not the way I should be, not the way you deserve.”

Ron froze. He hadn't known what to expect when Hermione began her explanation but of all the things he had expected Hermione to say nothing could have prepared him for what he had just heard. What exactly had she meant by someone who was fully devoted to him? Was she saying that she wasn't devoted to him? And what was this nonsense about loving him but not being in love with him? It sounded like the sort of rubbish you told a bloke when you were throwing him over for some other tosser.

“Its like you're saying there's someone else.” Ron didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until he felt Hermione's fingers tense and stiffen in his grasp. The movement prompted him to raise his eyes to hers. As soon as their eyes met Ron knew that his suspicions were true, he didn't need to hear her say the words as the truth was staring back at him out of her eyes. Ron dropped Hermione's hands as if he'd be scalded. He leapt up from his seat on the couch beside her, his voice sounded deafening in the quiet and stillness of the room. “Who is it? Who's the git that you've been having it on with behind my back?!”

Hermione rose from the couch, “I haven't been having it on with anyone behind your back Ronald! I'd have thought you knew me well enough to know that I'd never do that to you!”

“You haven't been carrying on with some tosser behind my back but you don't deny that you're in love with someone else!”

Hermione sighed. “Ron I've known for quite sometime that things were not as they should be between us. I've tried to be what I thought you wanted… what you needed me to be but I can't keep lying to myself and to you about something that we both know is wrong. You shouldn't have to work at loving someone Ron.”

Ron ignored the spark of recognition Hermione's words triggered in him instead he focused his attention on the question that remained unanswered. “Who is it Hermione? Is there even someone else? Because for the sake of Merlin's pants I can't imagine who you could have taken a fancy to, the only person you ever spend any time with is Harry…” As the named slipped past his lips Ron remembered the conversation he'd had with Harry all those months back at his birthday party. Harry's words came back to him, Not everyone gets their happily ever after. Ron glared at Hermione and sneered, “I guess Harry'll be getting his happily ever after afterall.” Without another word he turned and strode to the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of green fire before Hermione had the chance to mutter a reply.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

It was nearly dawn when Harry trudged bleary eyed with exhaustion into his bedroom. He'd been on patrol in Diagon Alley and had spent half the night running down back streets chasing low level criminals for the seeming amusement of the more senior aurors. He was in desperate of a hot meal and a shower but as he was so worn out he had decided to forego food and just have the shower. He was halfway to the bathroom when he noticed the tawny owl perched on his dresser. He was across the room in a single stride. Deftly he slipped the roll of parchment from the owl's leg unraveling it to reveal Hermione's familiar looping script. Two words were written on the page; Ron knows. The exhaustion that had consumed his body seemed to evaporate immediately as he stared at the two words Hermione had written. He looked out the window at the ever brightening sky; it was too early just now to turn up at Hogwarts despite it being a Saturday. He'd have a shower and a bite to eat before heading to Hogwarts. The clicking of the owl's beak broke through his private musings long enough for him to hastily scrawl his intentions on the bottom of Hermione's note. He watched the owl fly out of sight before turning and heading to the shower.

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More important things

Chapter 6: The Positives and Negatives of Being the Chosen One

Harry stood awkwardly outside of Hermione's private quarters. He wasn't exactly sure where the apprehension he felt was coming from but it was apprehension pure and simple. It had taken him longer than he expected to pull himself together. Though he had owled Hermione that he would be there straight away he had lingered in the shower mulling over what could have happened between Hermione and Ron. So engrossed in his musing was he, that he'd shampooed his hair twice and allowed the water to run cold before he finally exited the shower. Following his vigorous scrubbing he had taken the time to shave and was more careful than usual in dressing for the trip to Hogwarts. When he'd finally made it downstairs Harry hadn't even bothered to put up a fuss when Kreacher had insisted on making him breakfast. He had dutifully seated himself at the table and unknowingly and unappreciatively chewed the eggs, kippers, mushrooms, tomato, baked beans and fried potatoes set before him. Once Harry had left for Hogwarts instead of flooing directly into Hermione's rooms as he usually would have done Harry had used the main entrance to the school, stealthily stealing through the halls unnoticed. Now he stood outside Hermione's door hesitant to go in. Harry took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. Without bothering to announce himself he grasped the door knob and let himself in.

Harry hadn't been sure what he would find but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes. Hermione was sitting on the floor just to the right of her couch surrounded by a mish mash of spell books, notes, clothes and other assorted wizarding and muggle paraphernalia. She was meticulously inspecting each item before determining which of the four trunks it would come to rest in. Glancing around the room Harry noticed that it looked oddly bare. The walls were devoid of pictures as was the small mantel above the fireplace; all the books had been removed from their shelves and the piles of robes, jumpers, blouses and jeans covering the couch and chair seemed to suggest that the wardrobe in the adjoining bedroom was empty as well. It was evident that Hermione was packing. But why was she packing? What had gone on between her and Ron? Where in the name of Merlin was she going?

Stepping closer to where she was sitting with her back to him, Harry called tentatively to her, “Hermione…” he allowed his voice to trail off and waited for her to respond. Hermione did not turn around to face him but Harry saw her spine stiffen slightly as she squared her shoulders and answered back quietly, “I'd given you up as a bad job.” Harry stood for several long moments processing Hermione's words before asking another question. “What's going on Hermione… why are you packing?”

Hermione's reply was matter of factly stated. “Isn't it obvious… I'm packing because I'm leaving Hogwarts.” Harry's face contorted itself into a frown. Term didn't end for a fortnight and as organized as Hermione might be she was far too capable a witch to need an entire fortnight to pack regardless of the size of her personal library. Harry could see from her demeanor that something very unpleasant had taken place, but what? He was certain that Hermione's talk of leaving had something to do with her row with Ron. Determined to get an answer to what had happened, Harry asked, “Why are you leaving… where are you going?”

Her reply was succinct and wholly unexpected. “The Ministry, I've taken a position as the junior assistant to the Minister for the Department of Magical Law.” Harry's frown morphed into a look of confusion. “You've taken a job, when did this happen?” Hermione rose from her seat on the floor and walked over to the couch and began separating the piles of clothes littering the space. “The offer was made last night. Kingsley brought Minister Weaver by personally to meet me and offer me the position. I accepted first thing this morning by owl.”

“Kingsley and Delphinia Weaver came to Hogwarts and offered you a position as the junior assistant to Weaver? What about Ron? Your note was about Ron, it didn't mention anything about you taking a post at the Ministry.”

Hermione studied Harry's puzzled expression for an instant before speaking again. “Yes well yesterday was rather eventful… full of loads of conversation.” Harry noticed a somewhat faraway timbre in Hermione's intonation as she spoke. He very nearly asked her what was wrong but held his tongue as she resumed her discourse.

“Indeed yesterday was quite the day for discussions. Luna and I spoke at length in the library. It was after leaving her that I was summoned to Professor McGonagall's office to meet with Kingsley and Minister Weaver. It was quite a surprise my being offered the post but Kingsley thinks I'll be perfectly brilliant at it, as does Professor McGonagall. Even so I have to admit that I wasn't certain about agreeing to take on the job, but after speaking with Ron I thought it was best for all concerned.”

When Harry spoke there was a touch of exasperation in his tone. “Hermione, what happened with Ron?”

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes for a brief instant before beginning her tale. “I spoke with Luna yesterday…” Harry expelled a breath in irritation. He was about to chastise Hermione for avoiding the matter at hand when she sent him a quelling look that requested his patience. He grudgingly bit back his retort and allowed Hermione to continue.

“I spoke with Luna yesterday… she'd noticed my distress over the past few weeks and as she was already aware of my predicament regarding my feelings concerning both you and Ron; it appears that she's been aware of your feelings for me and mine for you for quite some time.” Hermione paused as Harry nodded, running a hand through his wayward hair in an abashed fashion he muttered, “She was the only person I could speak to about things.”

Hermione interrupted with a nod of her head. “Yes Luna has an extraordinarily unobtrusive way of listening without judging. She has a very calming, very serene presence that inspires one's confidence. It was that serenity that led me to accept some truths I'd been avoiding.” Before Harry could ask about what those truths were Hermione moved on. “I imagine Luna's told you that she always thought that there was something more than simple friendship between us.” Harry smiled a bit. “Luna's always saying something or other about our auras being entwined.”

Hermione returned the smile briefly before her countenance took on a strained appearance. “Ron came by last night to propose.” Harry's head snapped up and a shocked expression spread across his face. Hermione continued Harry's expression going unnoticed. “He never actually got around to proposing… I stopped him before he could ask me the question. I couldn't allow him to declare his undying love for me after I'd just accepted the fact that I was not and most likely never would be in love with him on account of my being in love with you.”

Harry looked as if he was about to speak but an almost imperceptible shake of Hermione's head stilled his tongue. “I tried to explain it to him but you know Ron when he's hurt…” Harry cut across Hermione's words, his concerned agitation showing through his words. “What did he say?”

Hermione heaved a sigh, she hadn't wanted to get into the particulars of Ron's reaction but she knew that Harry would never be satisfied until he knew and though it was against her better judgment she answered him honestly. “Once he understood that I couldn't return his feelings for me because I held those feelings for someone else he accused me of carrying on with someone else behind his back.”

Harry replied incredulously, “He what? Ron actually accused you of carrying on with someone else!” Hermione bobbed her head up and down. “Harry you know as well as I do that Ron lashes out when he's hurt. I don't truly believe that he thought I was seeing someone he was just hurt and he wanted to hurt me back.”

“I'm sorry that you had to go through that.” Hermione waved away Harry's apology. “There's no need for you to apologize especially considering that Ron really wasn't all that wide of the mark.” Harry frowned as he inquired, “What do you mean he wasn't all that wide of the mark?” Hermione briefly turned her attention back to the mountain of clothes covering the couch before responding. “While I may not have been running off to have clandestine trysts in the Astronomy Tower I haven't exactly been faithful either.” Sensing Harry's perplexed expression she continued, “Lusting after and kissing a man who isn't your boyfriend isn't exactly the definition of faithfulness, especially when that man happens to be the best friend of you both.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Hermione you were not cheating on Ron. Whatever your feelings for me may have been you never acted on them. And as to the kiss… if you recall I kissed you not the other way round.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes you did kiss me but if you recall you'll remember that I kissed you back.” Harry shook his head, “Hermione it wasn't like that and you know it. You never did anything that was the least bit out of line; it was me… all of it…”

Hermione testily cut in. “Oh honestly Harry, will you please be sensible! How can you possibly be out of line for what you've done yet absolve me of all guilt. The fact of the matter is that we're both guilty of the same thing…” Again Harry interjected angrily, “And what exactly are we guilty of Hermione, falling in love!” startled by the vehemence of Harry's retort Hermione was momentarily silent. She waited a second or two before calmly answering back by saying, “We're guilty of lying.” Harry squeezed his eyes shut as Hermione went on. “We both knew what that kiss in the tent signified, we both knew what we felt for each other by then was far beyond friendship. And whatever our reasons for not pursuing it at the time our actions afterward were unforgivable. I never should have gotten involved with Ron knowing I had feelings for you. It was fair to either Ron or you and it certainly wasn't fair to me.” Harry's head bobbed up and down in agreement, Hermione resumed expressing her thoughts. “And though you handled things far better with Ginny than I have with Ron, it would have made things somewhat easier all around if you had told me what you were feeling.”

As she spoke those words her voice had been no more than a whisper. She'd turned her back to Harry and so a small gasp escaped her as she felt his arms slip about her drawing her into his chest. She could feel the vibration of his words through his chest as he spoke, “You're right, I should have told you and to be honest I probably would have if I hadn't have been witness to your rather visceral reaction to Ron coming back and the visual representation of Ron's worst nightmares come to life in the locket I just felt it was better if I left well enough alone.”

Hermione turned in Harry's arms and facing him asked, “What visual representation of Ron's worst nightmares come to life in the locket?” Harry stared back at Hermione for a moment before realizing that she had no idea of what had happened in the forest beside the pool, the night Ron had returned. As it was not his story to tell Harry had never mentioned it to her and it seemed that Ron hadn't either. His mind drifted to the words he'd spoken to Ron that night, “She's like my sister, I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It's always been like that. I thought you knew.” Harry had known that the words were a lie on his part as soon as they passed his lips but at the time he had no idea how Hermione felt about him or Ron so he'd said the only thing he thought he could.

“Harry, are you going to answer my question?” The sound of Hermione's voice brought him back to the present moment. Ignoring her question Harry asked one of his own. “You've ended things with Ron, what does that mean for us?”

Hermione stepped away from Harry completely and asked, “What do you mean?” Harry sighed, “You've ended things with Ron and you've been very candid about the fact that you're in love with me so I'd like to know… no I need to know if you want to be with me.”

Luna's query from the previous evening drifted to the forefront of Hermione's thoughts, “Considering that you've never been able to deny Harry anything that was in your power to give can you honestly deny him the one thing you've always wanted to give him—can you honestly deny him your love.” She was thoughtful for a few moments before replying, “Of course I want to be with you Harry but there's so much to sort out, we've never spoken about what went on between us, why it happened, what we felt about it or what it all meant and taking into account our relationships with Ron and Ginny, what a field day the press is bound to have with all of this and how convoluted the entire situation is I really don't think we should rush into anything.”

Harry replied cautiously, “Hermione, if you've got it in mind that we should stay away from each other out of some since of obligation to Ron or anybody else I'm telling you right now I won't stand for it.” Hermione stepped closer to Harry and placing a hand soothingly on his arm said, “I was proposing that we stay away from each other Harry I was only saying that we should take our time with things and try to cause as little pain as possible to Ron, Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys as we can from here on out.”

Harry nodded his head and muttered the word “good”. He was quiet for several minutes before he placed his hand over the one Hermione had rested on his arm and queried her, “Will you be alright here by yourself if I step out for a bit.” Hermione answered him in a somewhat bewildered tone. “I'll be fine Harry. Where are you going?” His answer was unexpected. “I'm going to see Ron.”

“Harry you can't think that's a good idea. Ron's not in the frame of mind to be benevolent.”

Harry nodded his head to show that he agreed with Hermione's assessment of the situation then added, “I'm pretty sure that I'm the last person Ron wants to see right now but he's been my best friend and after what I've done to him the very least that I owe him is a face to face explanation.”

Hermione sighed. Squeezing his hand she appended an entreaty. “Promise me that the two of you won't fight.” Harry smiled and said, “I promise you I won't raise a hand to Ron, although I can't make any such promises for him.” Sooner than Hermione could fashion a reply Harry leaned down and brushed a kiss across her lips. He then turned and hurried across the room and out the door.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Harry stepped into the familiar bustle of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes; as usual the Diagon Alley shop was full to bursting with customers of every age vying to get the latest of George's creations. Harry trudged through the shop towards the back counter where he'd caught sight of Verity. His appearance caused more than a few heads to turn and a spate of whispering broke out as he moved through the crowd. Verity looked up and catching sight of Harry quickly stepped around from behind the counter. Waving Harry through she pointed to the back of the shop and informed him that Mr. Weasley was back there cataloguing the stock. Harry thanked her and walked to the very back of the shop where he found George exactly where Verity had said he'd be.

Clearing his through awkwardly Harry called out, “George.” He waited as George turned around. A peculiar smile spread across George's face as he straightened and said, “Harry, either that whole Voldemort business made you barmy as all hell or you've truly got the biggest bollocks known to man.”

Harry nodded and replied, “So he's here then.” George's reply was just as succinct. “He's in the upstairs flat.” Harry posed a second question. “How is he?” George frowned, “He's a right mess, had to lock up all my best whiskey.” Harry sighed and proceeded to another question, “I take it he told you what happened?” It was George's turn to nod. The two lapsed into silence for a bit before George spoke, “You and Hermione eh,” he paused awkwardly then added, “I reckon that's the reason you called off things with Ginny?”

Harry reached up and rubbed his neck uncomfortably as he answered, “It was one of the reasons.” George's face held an open expression that invited Harry to continue. “After the war ended, I was a mess. I wasn't the same person I had been. Everything I'd been through, all the people I'd loss, the grief and senselessness of it all made it hard for me to function. I literally had to force myself out of bed everyday. Ginny wanted to pick things up where we'd left off and I was hardly fit for carrying on from one day to the next. I had a fair bit of healing to do and I had no idea how long it would take. I thought Ginny deserved better than that.”

A sympathetic smile touched the corners of George's mouth as he said quietly, “Healing is the hardest part.” Harry thought back to what a mess George had been immediately after the war. Though the entire Weasley family had lost Fred only George had lost his other half. He and Harry had often sought each other out during those months and while they never spoke openly about their personal losses it had been a comfort to have someone nearby who understood how they felt. Harry shook his head to clear it of his wandering thoughts and looking at George asked, “Alright with you if I go up and have a word with Ron?” George raised an eyebrow. “Harry I don't think that's a right bright idea. Ron's in a bad way just now and I can honestly say that you are the absolute last person he wants to see at the mo.”

Harry took a deep breath and slowly rocked his head from side to side, “I know but after what I've done the least that I owe him is a go at me if that's what he chooses.” George stared at Harry for a long moment and then with a shake of his head he said, “Have it your own way… try not to destroy my entire flat eh.” George turned back to his work. Harry gave a chuckle and made his way towards the back stairs. As his foot touch the first stair he called over his shoulder and said, “My bollocks are normal size so I reckon I must be barmy as all hell.” The echo of George's laughter followed Harry all the way up the stairs.

Not bothering to announce himself Harry stepped into George and Ron's flat. He walked quietly through the kitchen and into the living room where he saw Ron slumped down in the chair in front of the fireplace; eyes closed clutching a dark indigo velvet box. For the second time Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. Ron replied without opening his eyes. “I already told you George I don't feel like talking.”

“It's not George, Ron.”

At the sound of Harry's voice Ron bolted out of the chair he'd been sitting in as if he'd been catapulted. “What are you doing here?” Ron's voice was quiet and full of loathing. Harry's reply was equally quiet, “I wanted a word with you about… about…” Ron interjected scathingly, “You wanted a word with me about stealing my girlfriend did you?”

Harry took another deep breath, “Ron it wasn't like what you're thinking I never meant for this to happen…” Again Ron cut across Harry's words. “You never meant for what to happen? You never meant for Hermione to choose you over me… but that can't be what you meant seeing as how she's always chosen you over me…”

This time Harry did the interjecting. “Ron I need you to understand that I didn't intend this to happen I try my damnedest to keep my feelings to myself… I didn't want to hurt you, either of you but…” Harry faltered for a moment before adding in an agonized whisper, “I love her Ron.”

At that utterance Ron exploded. “And I didn't! You walked around for years knowing how I felt about Hermione, and suddenly after all this time you're in love with her… so to hell with me and my sodding feelings the Chosen One can't be denied one bloody thing!”

“You're right I did know how you felt about Hermione and that's why I tried…”

“You didn't try hard enough! You knew what this would do to me… you saw what it did to me that night when I saved your worthless life and you did it anyway… you're the worst kind of bastard you know that… the one thing I wanted… the only thing I wanted and you had to take it away from me.”

Harry frowned and spat through gritted teeth, “She's not a possession Ron… she's not something to be given or taken…” he stopped himself and started again more calmly, “Ron if I could have done things differently I would have. But what I feel for Hermione it wouldn't go away no matter how much I try to wish it away, or to force it out of my mind it doesn't change how I feel. And I'm sorry that Hermione's and my feelings for each other have hurt you but…”

Ron interjected angrily, “Bollocks Harry, if you'd really wanted to save me some hurt you'd have kept your mouth shut! You knew! You knew that given a choice between us she'd always choose you and rather than leave well enough alone you just had to open your big fat mouth because nothing can be denied the great Harry Potter!” Harry shook his head and looked as though he was about to say something when Ron pointed towards the door and said, “Get the hell out and don't come back!”

Harry stood there for a moment as though torn between trying to get through to Ron and acquiescing to his request. In the end Harry chose the latter and quietly left the flat. Harry retraced his route down the back stairs and into the storeroom. George was still there. He nodded towards the back door which led into the alley, “Thought you might want to leave unseen, Mum and Dad are out front.” Harry nodded and muttered a thank you as he slipped out the door. George quietly watched him do before turning round and walking into the shop.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

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More important things

Chapter 6: The Perverseness of Clarification

Following his disaster of a conversation with Ron Harry returned rather discontentedly to Hogwarts to fill Hermione in on the particulars of the discussion. However, upon his arrival at her quarters he was somewhat shocked to find a farewell do of sorts in progress. McGonagall had informed the staff of the fact that Hermione had agreed to take the position at the Ministry and would be leaving immediately. This information had prompted professors Flitwick and Vector who were especially fond of Hermione to come down to her quarters and wish her well in her endeavors. Several of the other staff also made the trek down to the head girl’s quarters to say their goodbyes.

However, when Slughorn got wind of the news that one of his prized pupils was moving on to such an important post he hurriedly dispatched a request to the kitchens for several dozen trays of hors d'oeuvres to be sent round to Hermione’s quarters. He then sent off a peck of owls to a few of his most influential old students. Finally, he rounded up the present members of the Slug Club and stormed Hermione’s quarters bent on throwing her an impromptu going away party. Harry was certain that Hermione had tried to resist but Slughorn was not to be put off whenever there was merriment to be made. So it was an odd collection of students, professors and notables of wizarding society that greeted Harry on his return to Hermione’s private quarters. As he entered the room a drink was pressed into his hand and his ears were assaulted by Slughorn’s booming call of “Harry m’boy, so good to see you, so good of you to come!”

For the next two hours Harry watched as Slughorn presided over the room like a king. Hermione spent most of the afternoon clamped to Slughorn’s side being shown around like a prize hippogriff while old Sluggie introduced her to his most influential connections and loudly enumerated her outstanding qualifications. Seeing that there was nothing to be done other than to wait Harry settled himself in the corner beside the mantle and quietly people watched. He passed the time by catching up Flitwick and McGonagall on how his training was going. He also met Aries Castor, a former auror who had taken on the position as the DADA teacher and the two of them chatted with Neville about the possibility of his joining the aurors at the end of term.

Harry was just about to fetch himself another drink when a flash of red hair caught his attention. He looked up and caught sight of Ginny rapidly making her way across the room towards where Hermione was engaged in conversation with Slughorn and some Ministry department head. Harry set down his glass and the bottle of wine he’d been about to pour from and started across the room intent on intercepting Ginny before she got to Hermione and caused a scene. He had barely made three steps when he felt a restraining hand on his forearm, Luna’s voice sounded from beside him, “Don’t move.” Before Harry could fashion a reply to Luna’s admonition, Ginny’s voice carried across the room.

“Its true then… what everyone’s saying… you’re leaving Hogwarts to take a job at the ministry?”

Harry watched Hermione nod and reply.

“Yes it’s true. I was offered the position as the junior assistant to the Minister of Magical Law, Delphinia Weaver, and I’ve accepted it.” Ginny smiled broadly at Hermione’s news before throwing her arms around her and exclaiming, “Oh Hermione, that’s wonderful! I’m so very pleased for you!” Stepping back Ginny saw the obviously stunned look on Hermione’s face and added sheepishly, “I know I haven’t acted like much of a friend this past year, and I’m sorry for that, but I really am happy for you Hermione. I know you’ll be brilliant.”

At Ginny’s declaration, Hermione lifted her eyes and for the briefest moment, her gaze locked with Harry’s then abruptly she tore her eyes away from his. She turned her attention back to Ginny and asked, “Ginny, I wonder if I could have a private word?” Ginny readily nodded her head and the two witches disappeared into Hermione’s bedroom.

Before Harry could make a move towards the bedroom Luna applied a bit of pressure to where she was still holding his arm and said, “Its better to let them sort this out for themselves I think.” Harry shook his head as he replied, “This could get very unpleasant very fast. There’s no telling what Ginny’s liable to do once she finds out about Hermione and me. Ginny has a right nasty temper.”

Luna shrugged, “Yes that is true. Ginny does have a rather foul temper. But if I had to put galleons on it I’d definitely go with Hermione.” Luna paused as if she were really thinking about the outcome of a fight between Hermione and Ginny. After a minute or two of quiet reflection she nodded her head, emphatically, once, and said, “Yes, I would unquestionably put my gold on Hermione be it words or wands. So what would you like to wager, five or ten galleons? I’d go higher but I’m a bit low on funds at the mo but if you’d be willing to take my word that I’m good for the gold I could wager higher. Though I have to admit I’d have thought you would have bet on Hermione as well all things considered.”

Harry’s face contorted itself into a mask of utter confusion. “Luna, are you mad? I’m not about to stand here and bet on who could take who in a fight! I don’t want it to come to that at all!” Luna smiled. “In that case Harry you should really stay put, your presence would only make things worse. Fancy a drink?” With that said, Luna steered Harry back towards the drinks and poured him a substantial glass of brandy.

For the next ten minutes, Harry stood anxiously watching the bedroom door as Luna chattered on about her plans following the end of her time at Hogwarts. Just when Harry thought he was about to go stark raving, mad the bedroom door swung open and a clearly livid Ginny emerged. Her cheeks were a violent red and her eyes were a good two shades darker. She must have felt Harry’s eyes on her because she cast a baleful glare in his direction before pushing her way across the room and out the door. Harry’s eyes swung back towards the bedroom door. Hermione was looking over at him. He saw that her eyes were brighter than usual full of unshed tears. He made a move towards her but she shook her head the tiniest bit, entreating him to stay put. She graced him with a tremulous, yet radiant smile before Slughorn returned and claimed her attention again.

Another hour dragged on before the food and drink started to run low, and people began to say their final goodbyes as they recalled work that required their attention. Hermione found herself beset by a crush of well-wishers who dispensed hugs and requests to keep in touch. At last only Neville, Luna and professors Flitwick, Slughorn and McGonagall remained. The quintet rolled up the sleeves of their robes and lent a hand in packing up the rest of Hermione’s things. After three quarters of an hour all four trunks were packed and shut, the rooms tripled checked for any hiding items. Crookshanks was contentedly settled in Harry’s arms watching as she said her goodbyes. Hermione had just finished hugging Luna, Neville, promising to owl Slughorn, and Flitwick as soon as she settled into her post at the Ministry. She then turned to McGonagall.

The headmistress embraced Hermione affectionately for a long moment. Stepping back she held Hermione’s cheeks in her hands and said, “You’ve grown into quite an impressive young witch Hermione, I couldn’t be prouder of all you’ve accomplished than if you were my very own daughter. I have no doubt that you will set the Ministry on its ear with your brilliance. But should you every need anything be it advice, a comrade in arms, or a place to call home, I trust you know where to find me.”

Hermione bit her lip and the tears that had been threatening for several minutes began to slide unchecked down her cheeks. McGonagall patted her cheek and looked to Harry, “I am counting on you to look after Hermione Harry, and I trust you will not be derelict in that duty.” Something in her look that made Harry certain she knew about him and Hermione. Clearing his throat he responded, “No professor, I won’t.” McGonagall nodded and turned back to Hermione. “Well enough of this sentimentality… its time for you to be off.” With a look towards Flitwick she said, “Filus, the luggage.”

Flitwick stepped forward and tossing a handful of floo powder into the fireplace, he then pointed his wand at the trunks and levitated them into the fireplace calling out the address of the Granger’s Hertfordshire home. Harry watched the trunks as they spun out of sight. Hermione thanked everyone for everything, and hugged McGonagall and the others before taking Crookshanks from Harry’s arms and saying one last tearful goodbye stepped into the flames and twirled out of sight. Harry shook hands all around before take his turn in the flames, his last clear image was of McGonagall wiping away tears.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

When Harry arrived in the living room of Edward and Jane Granger’s Lectworth, Hertfordshire home, it was to find Hermione in the throes of explaining what she was doing home a fortnight before term ended at Hogwarts. It was evident from the fuss they made over their daughter that Mr. and Mrs. Granger were worried that something untoward had occurred again. The Grangers had not been happy when Hermione had tracked them down in Australia and restored their memories. Once they received the full story of what Hermione’s time at Hogwarts had encompassed, Harry was certain that they would have prevented her from returning to the wizarding world if they had the power to do so. Thus, it took a full ten minutes for Hermione to explain her new job at the Ministry. But it was only after she had shown her parents the results of her N.E.W.T.S. (all O’s), which she had taken the week before, that they truly settled down and began to enjoy the news that their daughter was home.

Once the Grangers were satisfied that nothing was amiss they turned their attention to Harry. Both of Hermione’s parents were great fans of Harry. Like Molly Weasley before her Jane found herself unable to resist Harry’s humility and his unfailing politeness and cordiality. Since truly getting to know him, it had become her fondest wish to see him happy and thoroughly removed from any type of danger. Whereas Jane Granger saw Harry through the eyes of a doting mother, Edward Granger saw Harry as a thoroughly remarkably extraordinary young man. When he thought of the dreadful things Harry had endured, he was amazed that he had grown into such a well-adjusted young man. Even more Edward found himself impressed by Harry’s sense of honor and duty. With the hand life had dealt him no one would have thought less of Harry had he opted for a quiet life away from the public eye. Harry felt he owed it to those who had sacrificed their lives for his own to do something more than merely be a famous face. He wanted to prevent his childhood from repeating. This mindset made Edward Granger a great admirer of Harry Potter, an admiration that at times had prompted him to hope for a change in his daughter’s dating status.

Edward walked over to Harry and greeted him jovially with a hearty shake of his hand. “Harry! So good to see you again! How goes the auror training?”

Harry smiled as he shook Mr. Granger’s hand. “Fine sir, good to see you as well.” Before Edward could say more Jane came over and gave Harry his customary hug and peck on the cheek. She then ushered both he and Hermione towards the couch. Once assured the pair were comfortably seated, she and Edward hurried off to the kitchen and set about making tea. Fifteen minutes later the Grangers returned with a tray bearing tea and sandwiches. As Harry hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast, he helped himself to two turkey sandwiches as Hermione went into more detail about her new position with the ministry. Harry was on his fifth sandwich by the time Hermione finished. Seeing the dent he’d made in the sandwiches Jane determined that he wasn’t looking after himself and insisted on making he and Hermione a proper dinner. Harry’s protests went unheard and shortly thereafter found himself parked in front of the telly with Edward while Hermione assisted her mother in the kitchen.

Harry and the Grangers sat down to a dinner of roast chicken, jacket potatoes, and salad an hour and a half later. For desert, they had pumpkin tart, which Hermione had ducked out for while they chicken was cooking. After dinner Jane declined Harry and Hermione’s offer to do the washing up. Instead, she suggested that they move Hermione’s things upstairs while she and Edward handled things in the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen Jane closed the door, turned to her husband and stated flatly, “I think Hermione and Harry are carrying on.”

Edward, who was just finishing off the last slice of pumpkin tart, looked rather bemusedly at his wife and asked, “What in God’s name gave you that idea?”

Jane sighed and rolled her eyes in a manner that said the reasoning behind the conclusion she had drawn should be obvious. “What gave me that idea? Probably the fact that our daughter’s come home a full two weeks before she was expected and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of her boyfriend.” Edward shrugged noncommittally. “I expect Ron’s working. Any time we ask after him, Hermione always says how hard he’s working at the family shop.”

“I would think that seeing as Hermione’s leaving Hogwarts would mean more time for her to spend with Ron he’d have been here with bells on. Hermione’s been here for hours and we’ve not heard a peep from him. Even if he was busy with work I’d have thought he would have checked to make sure that she got in alright.” Jane stared after her husband with a look that demanded he explain Ron’s inexplicable behavior.

“Honestly Jane I’m sure the lad felt no need to check up on Hermione. What need is there to check up on her if she coming home to her parents with Harry there to look after things.”

Edward had barely gotten the words out of his mouth before Jane, smacked her hand down on the counter as she triumphantly crowed, “Exactly my point!” Edward frowned. “What point would that be dear?”

Jane rolled her eyes again. “You don’t find it the least bit strange that we see more of our daughter’s best friend than her boyfriend. Its been ages since we’ve seen Ron. Every Saturday that Hermione took off from Hogwarts she spent with Harry because Ron was working. Awful lot of work Ron has nowadays considering that when they first started seeing each other he had no trouble skiving off at the drop of a hat.”

Edward considered this bit of information thoughtfully. Seeing that she had his attention Jane pressed her point. “Did you notice the way they’ve been watching each other all evening? Or how careful they’ve been not to touch? I’m telling you Edward something is going on between those two, mark my words.” Having said her piece, Jane turned and set about cleaning up the kitchen. Edward thought over what his wife had said, and wondered if Jane could possibly be right.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Harry sat in the oversized armchair in the corner of Hermione’s bedroom. He was watching Hermione unpack the last of the two trunks containing her extensive collection of books. They had been oddly quiet since bringing the trunks upstairs. Hermione had immediately set about putting her things away and Harry had taken a seat and waited for her to say something about what had happened with Ginny but nothing had been forthcoming so far. Finally deciding to broach the subject himself Harry cleared his throat and said, “Are you going to say what happened with Ginny or not?”

Hermione turned around with a rather surprised look on her face and answered his question with a question. “You want to hear about that?” Harry glared at Hermione as if she were daft. “Do I want to hear about that? Of course, I want to hear about it. It does concern me after all!" There was a snappish edge to his tone that caused a raised eyebrow from Hermione. She levitated the last of her books into place, walked across the room to where Harry was sitting, and took up a sit on the edge of the bed. “There’s not much to tell really. Ginny heard that I was leaving Hogwarts and it got her feeling a bit sentimental I suppose. She wanted to apologize for the way she’d treated me since you’d called things off with her.”

Harry already knew that much as he had overheard the beginnings of their conversation, but he kept his mouth shut all the same, listening for the parts he had missed.

“Her coming to me like that… swallowing her pride… well it got to me and as she was bound to find out about you and I sooner or later I decided to take a page out of your book and do the honorable thing and just tell her myself, right then and there.”

Unable to stop himself, Harry asked, “How did she take the news?”

Hermione chewed her lip a bit before responding. “She was confused at first; I started off by telling her that I’d called things off with Ron you see. She couldn’t understand why I would do such a thing so I explained about my feelings for you and yours for me. She was quiet for a bit then she started raging and storming about me being a manipulative, backstabbing, bitch who’d used the entire Weasley family to get close to you and turn your head. She said she reckoned Rita Skeeter had been right about me all along and then she turned round and stamped out the door.”

When Hermione finished Harry realized he was sitting there staring at her with his mouth hanging open. He quickly snapped it shut then immediately opened it again to ask, “I don’t suppose she said exactly how you used the Weasleys to get close to me and… er… ah… what was it again?”

Hermione smiled faintly as she replied. “The exact phrase was ‘turn your head’ and she did go into a touch more detail, I was paraphrasing. Ginny seems to think that all those summers I spent at the Burrow were carried on just so I could put myself in your line of sight so you’d take notice of me.”

Harry frowned. “But we were all friends, you, Ron and me. And we were friends long before either of us took to staying at the Burrow on vacations.” Harry screwed his face up in concentration as if thinking over something. He then said, “None of that makes the least bit of sense, the first time I stayed at the Burrow was in second year and you weren’t there at all. Three year we all stayed at the Leaky Cauldron after I’d blown up Aunt Marge, fourth year we were at the Burrow again on account of the Quidditch World Cup and fifth year was Grimmauld Place, and for most of that summer you’d all been there without me. I was stuck back in Privet Drive being attacked by Dementors as I recall. Then in sixth year…”

Hermione interrupted Harry’s analysis of their childhood summers. “Harry, none of what Ginny was saying was going to make any sense, she was angry and hurt. I expect she feels that I’ve betrayed her two times over. Not only did I chuck her brother for someone else but that someone also happens to be the great love of her life…”

“What!” Harry exclaimed so loudly that Crookshanks hopped from his perch on the windowsill, and hissed angrily at being disturbed before slinking across the room and out the slightly cracked door. The faint smile that Hermione had worn earlier came back a bit wider. “Honestly Harry you have to have known that Ginny has always considered you to be the only man she could ever truly and completely give herself to.”

Harry frowned and replied rather touchily, “She sure as bloody hell seems to get on without me pretty well considering the number of boyfriends she’s had!”

Hermione raised an eyebrow and asked, “Jealous are we?” Harry snorted derisively. “Shocked more like.” Innocently Hermione queried, “Shocked about what?”

Harry heaved an exasperated breath before speaking again. “I’m completely at a lost as to how Ginny could possibly see me as the love of her life. I mean let’s be honest here, for five full years I never gave her a thought as anything other than Ron’s little sister; she watched me moon over Cho Chang for a year and a half for Merlin’s sake. Then when I finally did notice her and got around to doing something about the attraction I felt, it barely lasted three months before I was calling things off to go on the Horcrux hunt. That’s not enough stability to fill an eggcup let alone build a relationship on. Add to that the fact that when we were together all we did was snog it’s not as if we knew each other particularly well.”

Hermione sat quietly listening. She had never heard Harry expound so much on his relationship with Ginny. After a somewhat protracted pause, Harry continued on.

“After the war ended I realized that what Ginny and I’d had was sort of a passing fancy, you know that first real relationship you have where that person is everything that matters in the moment but after that moment’s gone you wonder why you were with them to begin with.”

As he spoke those last few words, he stared straight at Hermione. She nodded her head in acknowledgement of his sentiments then silence stole over them once more. Several minutes of profound quiet passed before Hermione plucked up the nerve to ask another question. “But you loved her once, didn’t you?”

Harry raised his head and answered after a moment’s reflection. “I loved the idea of Ginny, of being a part of a proper family. The Weasleys seemed like the kind of family I would’ve had if it hadn’t been for Voldemort,” Harry shrugged, “I suppose it didn’t hurt that Ginny had something of a soft spot for me and with things going the way they were with the war… it just sort of happened. But after the war was over and I looked back on things I recognized that as much as I cared for Ginny I wasn’t in love with her.”

Harry paused again and added, “Of course by then I was beginning to cotton on to the fact that I was a bit over attached to a certain someone else.” He strongly emphasized the last two words. Hermione rolled her eyes as she muttered. “Kept mum about it though didn’t you.”

Harry reached out, grabbed Hermione about the waist and deposited her in his lap. He grasped her face firmly within his hands and softly replied, “I was a git, and I’m not keeping mum about it any more.” Before she had a chance to utter a sound Hermione found Harry’s lips pressed against her own. All coherent thought fled her brain as she lost herself to the moment. Harry’s hands gripped her firmly yet gently as he settled her more comfortably against him. A soft whimper slipped past her lips as his fingers touched the strip of exposed skin between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her jeans. The kiss rose perceptibly in temperature and passion, then suddenly the door burst open and Jane Granger’s voice permeated the room.

“Hermione, dear, would you and Harry care for a spot of…” Jane’s words disappeared in a loud gasp followed by an inarticulate apology. They pulled away from each other, tousle haired and breathless just in time to see Jane retreating quickly from the room. Hermione watched her mother disappear with an expression that was half comical, half exasperated. Harry watched her for a moment and then asked. “Hermione, are you alright?” With a resigned smile she replied, “I’m fine. I just hadn’t planned to tell my parents about us so soon and… well… I was rather enjoying that kiss.” She sighed, and standing to her feet said, “Well we’d better get downstairs and explain things otherwise my parents will start to think they’ve raised a trollop.” Harry stood and taking Hermione’s hand in his they headed off to explain.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

It was just gone eleven when Harry apparated into the foyer of 12 Grimmauld Place. He and Hermione had spent an hour explaining their current situation to Edward and Jane, neither of whom had seemed the least bit surprised by the sudden change in their relationship. After the interview with her parents, Hermione had felt the need to get out of the house. She borrowed her father’s car and the two of them drove into the village. They found a spot to park and after a stop at a coffee shop and grabbed a couple of coffees before wending down to a park, settling down on a bench to figure out exactly where their present relationship stood and to define precisely what “taking things slowly” meant. By the time they’d driven back to the Grangers home they had decided to concentrate on building upon the friendship they already shared and restricting any romantic exchanges to Harry’s house.

Roused from his wandering thoughts by the sound of movement in the downstairs kitchen, Harry supposed Kreacher was below keeping his dinner warm. Shaking his head at the faithful intractability of his house-elf Harry headed downstairs to tell Kreacher that he’d already eaten and to remind him that he needn’t make dinner for him every night, as his schedule was so erratic. He drew up short as he pushed the door to the kitchen and came face to face with Molly Weasley sitting at the table nursing a cup of tea. Kreacher was hovering near the sink slowing washing the already clean breakfast dishes.

An uncomfortable silence bathed the room and its occupants, Kreacher’s croaky voice broke the silence. “Good evening master, Kreacher is not cooking as master was out but if you is hungry I can makes you something. Master sees we is having a guest, Mrs. Molly Weasley is wishing to speak with you master.”

Harry nodded but Kreacher erupted into speech again before he could voice a reply. “I is explaining to Mrs. Molly that you is very busy with training and is needing to rest but she is insisting on seeing you and Kreacher is making tea. Would master like a cup of tea? Or perhaps you needs something else… whatever master is needing Kreacher will do.” At this pronouncement, Kreacher cut his eyes towards Molly as if offering to throw her bodily from the house. It was clear that Kreacher knew something was wrong. It was equally obvious that he was doing his utmost to prevent whatever scene was about to occur from occurring. Harry was grateful to Kreacher for his devotion but as he had rather been expecting something like this to happen, though he had thought it would be later rather than sooner, he thought he might as well get on with it.

Harry cleared his throat and said, “Thank you Kreacher, for attending to Molly but I can handle things from here.” Kreacher quirked an eyebrow and hesitantly replied, “If master is sure?” Harry nodded, “I’m sure, good night Kreacher.” With a snap of his fingers, which cleared away the washing up, and a bow Kreacher bid Harry and Molly goodnight and shuffled off to the converted that served as his bedroom.

Following the snap of Kreacher’s bedroom door Harry turned his attention to Molly. He decided not to bother wasting time beating around the bush, with a sigh he seated himself opposite Molly and matter of factly stated, “I take it you’re here because you’ve spoken to Ron.” Molly set down her cup. “Yes Arthur and I have spoken to Ron and we’ve had an owl from Ginny as well.” Harry bobbed his head once in acknowledgement. “Well I don’t imagine that you’ve come by just for a cup of tea…” The rest of his sentence hung in the air as Molly squared her shoulders and cut across him.

“Why Harry? Why would you do such a thing to Ron? After all the years of friendship how could you allow yourself to be taken in and ill use someone who has been like a brother to you?!”

As Molly had been speaking, Harry had been mentally preparing his answer. But as Molly’s words sunk in, he lost the thread of his thoughts. “Wha… what do you mean taken in?” Molly made an impatient tuting noise, “Hermione of course! I’ve long had my reservations about that one, always so helpful, so ingratiating… humph… I reckon it’s clear to everyone now that Rita Skeeter had the right end of the broom about her. Taste for famous wizards indeed! I suppose she’s been laying the groundwork for this little coup since the first day she met you both…”

Harry interjected, struggling to keep calm. “Molly, Hermione is not to blame for this, I’m the one…”

Molly’s exploded violently, “Not to blame! That trollop used my children to get close to you and broke my son’s heart in the bargain! She turned you against Ron who has been like a brother to you. After all we’ve done for you… bringing you into our home, treating you as if you were family… this is how you repay us, by shunting us all aside for a bit of skirt!”

Harry stood very slowly and in a quiet voice replied. “From the moment I met you on Platform 9¾ you have been nothing but kind to me. You and Arthur opened your home to me without hesitation and I will be forever grateful to you for that. I understand that you’re upset and that you’re concerned about your son, but I’ll not sit here, in my own home and allow you to insult Hermione.”

Striding over to the fireplace, he grasped a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the grate. The logs glowed green; Harry turned to Molly and brusquely added, “You’ve said what you came here to say; now you can leave.” Molly seemed to swell with indignation as she rose from her seat and marched to the fireplace, stepped inside and shouted, “The Burrow!” Harry watched her swirl out of sight, before turning and heading upstairs.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

More important things

Chapter 8: The Curious Nature of Moving On

Harry was certain that Molly's late night visit would not be the last intrusion he was to endure over his burgeoning relationship with Hermione, he was right. The following morning he was awakened by a howler loudly bellowing Molly's disapproval. She resumed her vilification of Hermione, portraying her as a galleon hungry, attention-seeking tramp. In between these descriptions of Hermione she took the opportunity to remind Harry of every single sacrifice she, Arthur and the rest of the Weasleys had ever made for him.

Driven from bed by Molly's howler Harry got an early start that morning. His breakfast and after breakfast tea was followed by a visit from Hermione. Ordinarily Harry would have been pleased to see her but the set of her jaw and the flash of fire in her brown eyes were sure signs that she was in a right strop. He had barely gotten the words out of his mouth asking what was wrong before Hermione was recounting the vicious diatribe she had endured that morning, she too had been awoken by the discordant bellows of a Molly Weasley howler. It seemed that Molly had decided to vent her spleen on the - harlot - at the heart of the matter and had sent her second howler of the day. Hermione recounted Molly's venomous attack verbatim for Harry. She thoroughly detailed the myriad of ways Molly used to impugn her sense of honor and decency. By the end of Hermione's account the sound of Molly's name was beginning to set Harry's teeth on edge.

It was then that an extremely flustered Arthur Weasley arrived hoping to speak to the two of them. It seemed that Arthur had learned of Molly's early morning activities and had come, hopefully, to quell some of his wife's venom. Arthur had stopped by the Granger's first hoping to speak to Hermione and he'd gotten quite an earful from Jane. It happened that Jane had overheard Molly's howler- hard not to hear a howler - and she was none too pleased by the characterization of her daughter as a galleon hungry harlot. She made it abundantly clear to Arthur that should there be a repeat of the affronting behavior, Molly would have to answer to her. Hermione apologized for her mother's over zealous mothering as Arthur apologized for Molly's and Harry apologized because he felt awful for creating the situation to begin with. Arthur had hoped to work out some sort of means for Harry and Hermione to coexist with the Weasley clan but by the time he took his leave an hour later the only progress that had been made was a mutual agreement for all involved parties to steer as clear of each other as possible.

The understanding between Arthur, Hermione and Harry proved to be just that - an understanding between the three of them. While Arthur, Harry and Hermione maintained a very civil relationship that bordered on friendly most of the Weasley family seemed to feel they were not bound by any agreement they hadn't made themselves. Molly had already made her position clear enough. Fleur, who was expecting, seemed to take Molly's view that Hermione was a shameless opportunist who pitted to best friends against one another. Though Bill never went so far as to agree that his mother and his wife were right in their characterizations there was a cold aloofness in his dealings with the two whenever he happened to come across them that suggested he harbored similar thoughts.

Percy was much more obvious in his disdain. He never spoke a word to either of them, was known for giving them baleful glances and could often be heard tutting or sniffing in irritation if he passed them in the corridors of the Ministry. He was also quite adept at making remarks about the failings of some people's character in a very loud voice should Harry or Hermione happen to walk by. Harry was certain that the only reason Percy never vocalized the anger he felt towards he and Hermione openly was the rather high opinion that most of the senior ministry staff held of them, Percy was after all still quite ambitious.

George and Charlie were a different matter. Though George was obviously quite supportive of Ron and Ginny he refused to condemn Harry and Hermione for what they had done. He took the line that while it was unfortunate that it had happened he would not believe that it had been done intentionally or with malice. Charlie agreed. Charlie, who'd spent less time with the trio than any of the other Weasleys, had seen his siblings fascinations with Harry and Hermione as the first passing fancies of childhood. He never imagined that either relationship would last much longer than Hogwarts.

The opinions of their family notwithstanding, Ron and Ginny's positions in the matter were clear enough, they felt as if they had been severely wronged and Ginny was absolutely livid about it.

While Arthur had somehow managed to curb Molly's tongue the same could not be done with Ginny. Initially, as she was still away at Hogwarts Ginny was at liberty to do as she chose and what she was chose to do was to vent her fury about the matter to anyone who would listen. Owls from Neville during the week following Harry and Hermione's revelation brought the news that Ginny was ranting about Harry and Hermione's treachery to anyone who would listen.

According to Neville, Ginny had sat in the Gryffindor common room the evening following Hermione's departure going on and on about how Hermione had ill-used Ron to steal Harry away from her. This soon became a nightly event. Every evening Ginny would sit by the fire in the Gryffindor common room and go on and on about how shabbily she had been treated by Hermione whom she viewed as a sister. She lamented the loss of the great love of her life so thoroughly that she seemed to have forgotten the fact that she was back with Dean - a fact that Dean took a strong exception to. A few nights before the end of term the two had the row to end all rows. As it happened Ginny was again revisiting the subject of Harry and Hermione when Dean, rather loudly, informed Ginny that he was sick of her mooning over the loss of a bloke who wasn't and hadn't been her boyfriend for more than a year and who had clearly moved on. He then added that he reckoned it was time he moved on as well and found someone who would truly appreciate him.

News of Dean and Ginny's breakup created a watershed. Because it happened just days before the end of term, the reason behind the split made its way through the castle, onto the Hogwarts Express and into the homes of witches and wizards up and down the country. The Prophet got wind of the story and began canvassing it thoroughly. Reporters began popping up in Lectworth, around the Ministry and in the general vicinity of Grimmauld Place trying to get glimpses of Harry and Hermione together. They also camped out around the Burrow and at both of George's shops hoping to see something of Ginny and Ron but were unable to get anyone to say anything worth printing.

Though Ron was not out spreading his tale of woe to all who wanted to hear he was making a bit of a spectacle of himself by wallowing in self-pity. After the breakup with Hermione, Ron took to his cups. A visit from Hagrid revealed that Ron had been barred from The Three Broomsticks, The Hog's Head and The Leaky Cauldron; it seemed that Rosemerta, Aberforth and Tom were concerned about the amounts of firewhiskey he was consuming and the chance he would inadvertently embarrass himself in some way. Banned from his preferred drinking haunts and unable to get at George's best drink at home Ron seemed to revert to the life he'd had before with two distinct exceptions. The first exception was the fact that the mention of either Hermione or Harry's name in his presence was likely to result in something or someone ending up hexed. The second exception was that Ron often spent his evenings in the company of the type of witch who would never be allowed to grace the entrance of Molly Weasley's home let alone sit through one of her suppers.

The news of Ron's debauchery coupled with the consistent reports of Ginny's vicious tirades only fanned the curiosity of the general wizarding public. As the weeks following Hogwart's end of term came and went Harry and Hermione found their relationship to be front page fodder for the Daily and Evening editions of the Prophet. Much speculation about the nature of their relationship abounded and was helped along by the thoughtfully thoughtless actions of their friends and acquaintances.

An account of a conversation of Lavender Brown's that had been overheard and repeated to the Prophet by Romilda Vane purported that the breakup between Ron and Hermione was just Ron getting his comeuppance for having treated her so shabbily back in sixth year. She went on to add that anyone with eyes had always known that something was brewing between Harry and Hermione. A letter to the editor of the Prophet from Horace Slughorn concerning Harry and Hermione as a couple echoed Lavender's sentiments. Slughorn wrote that when he got wind of the news about two of his all-time favorite students, he sent them a bottle of elf made wine and a note congratulating them on their fine choice in companions. He added that he had always hoped they would end up together as he thought they were indeed perfect for one another in temperament, magical ability and character.

It seemed that there was a variety of opinions on the subject of Harry and Hermione. There were those who thought Hermione wrong for having treated Ron so contemptibly. Others suspected that Ron's penchant for overly made-up, large breasted, witches of questionable reputation had something to do with Hermione moving on. And then there were those who looked on it as no ones fault but as something that had simply happened. Oddly enough, no one voiced an opinion that lay any blame whatsoever at Harry's feet. It seemed that his status as the savior of the wizarding world had made him impervious to censure for any transgression, factual, imagined or otherwise. Luna pointed out that considering the many times the wizarding world had judged Harry wrongly they now appeared to have decided to ignore his obvious shortcomings.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

In the midst of all the hubbub surrounding her personal life Hermione began her new job at the Ministry. As the junior assistant to the Minister of Magical Law, Hermione worked on level two of the Ministry of Magic, the same level that housed Auror Headquarters. Normally a new employee's arrival draws the most notice amongst those who will be working with them directly. Hermione's arrival however, drew the notice of the entire Ministry, specifically her floor. It seemed that everyone was vying to get a glimpse of the new junior assistant to the Minister of Magical Law. During the first two weeks of her new job, it was not uncommon for Hermione to find people staring at her as she moved about the Ministry. She often looked up and found a scrum of people around her door stealing looks at her. Conversations ended abruptly when she entered a room and whispering broke out whenever she exited it. It was clear that most of the Ministry staff was curious about her relationship with Harry; they dearly wanted to see the pair in some clandestine moment. Harry noticed the change as well. The constant, obviously open stares that had plagued him when he first began at the Ministry returned in full. It seemed that half of the Ministry was surreptitiously watching to see how he would react when he ran into Hermione in the corridors.

The much anticipated moment of Harry and Hermione meeting for the first time within the halls of the Ministry was long in coming, it took a solid month, and when it did occur, it was wholly uneventful. The pair ran into each other in the main corridor of level two one morning and exchanged hellos. They inquired about how work was progressing for the other and made a vague rather noncommittal reference to getting together for lunch sometime soon. They went their separate ways with smiles on their faces at the curious and disappointed glances peering over and around cubicles at their exchange. After that things settled down and the stares and whispers grew less and less. Hermione settled into the flow of her job, and Harry's presence only created the level of distraction that it had created before his private associations with Hermione became public knowledge. The worst they had to endure was several awkward moments that arose whenever a new article appeared in the Prophet and they ran into Arthur in the hallways.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

July drew to a close and with it brought Harry and Neville's birthday. Harry would have been content with a quiet evening at home with Hermione, Luna, however, had other ideas. She thought it would be really nice to celebrate the joint birthday of Harry and Neville at Fortescue's. Fortescue's was Diagon Alley's newest eatery. Following the war Florean Fortescue's grandson Fabian had decided to honor his grandfather's memory by reopening his shop in Diagon Alley. However, Fabian thought that the Alley needed an establishment that offered more than just ice cream. Although he still sold every one of the flavors his grandfather had - plus a few flavors Florean had never thought of - Fabian also added a menu of surprisingly good soups, sandwiches and salads with a decidedly Italian flare. Seeing how well those items were received he designed an evening menu of gourmet Italian fare and the eatery became an instant hit. Fortescue's was now the height of fashion among younger witches and wizards. Thus when Harry and Neville's birthday arrived nothing short of a sighting of a herd of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks could have stopped Luna making reservations at Fortescue's.

Harry arrived at the Granger's home just after six to pick up Hermione. He spent half an hour with the family receiving birthday wishes and exchanging pleasantries before he and Hermione left to meet the rest of their group for dinner. They arrived outside Fortescue's at the same exact moment as Neville and his girlfriend Hannah Abbott, whom he'd been seeing since the last half of term at Hogwarts. Following his heroism in the final battle at Hogwarts, Neville had become a most attractive commodity to the female population of the wizarding world. For a time Neville had availed himself of the delights of dating a new witch every week but all of that changed after one date with Hannah, when he'd described the encounter to friends later all he could say was that being with Hannah was like being home.

Neville smiled brightly when he caught sight of Harry and Hermione standing under the awning of Fortescue's. His grip on Hannah's hand tightened slightly as he hurried to his two fiends. The foursome exchanged hugs, handshakes and kisses as they exchanged hellos. Once the greetings had been exchanged the group went inside the restaurant and took seats at the far end of the bar to await Luna's arrival. A surly looking wizard took their drink orders, it was only after he'd deposited two glasses of meade, an ale and a firewhiskey that the four friends began to converse.

Harry nodded towards Hannah's glass of firewhiskey and queried, “Neville driving you to drink already?” Before Hannah could reply Neville's head swung around and in a slightly pitchy tone he cried, “I'm not driving her to drink, Han just happens to like firewhiskey!” Hannah ducked her head and attempted to stifle a giggle. The result was a sort of honking snort that sent both she and Hermione into a raucous riot of giggles and sniggers. Harry nodded his head good-naturedly and wryly added, “My mistake you're not driving her to drink, you're driving her into manic episodes of laughter.” Neville grinned sheepishly and took a stout swallow of his meade.

After she recovered from her fit of laughter, Hermione sipped her meade delicately and inquired, “How is your auror training coming along Neville?” Neville set his drink down and replied. “It's the hardest thing I've ever done. I was dead petrified about the potions bit but Hannah's been helping me and the head of training, Auror Sotheby has been very encouraging.”

Harry chimed in “Sotheby's a good bloke. He's been with training a long time and he's more concerned with turning out good aurors than anything else.” Neville nodded in agreement. “He has been at it a long time, he knew my mum and dad, said they were two of the best aurors he ever trained and that if I was anything like them I'd do just fine.” Neville paused for a moment then added, “he speaks right highly of you Harry. Said he'd never seen anyone with your natural talent, he reckons you'll be the youngest wizard to ever head the auror department - says you'll be in that office before you're thirty.”

Harry turned stunned eyes to Neville, “Sotheby said that.” Neville nodded. “Most of the senior auror agree with him, they all say they've never seen anyone quite like you.” Harry sat nursing his ale with a dumbfounded expression covering his face. He'd never imagined that his superiors thought so highly of him and his abilities. He was drawn from his musings by the sound of Hannah's admiring voice. “Of course everyone thinks you'll be a brilliant auror Harry, it's what you've always done isn't it? It makes sense that with all the things you have done in the past that you would do well as an auror. Merlin knows I wish I were good at something like that, then at least I'd have some sense of direction at least.”

Sensing Harry's discomfort at the turn of the conversation, Hermione latched on to the last bit of Hannah's statement. “Aren't you enjoying your new post at the Ministry?” Hanna shook her head. “It's just a clerk's position in the archives, dead dull to be honest. All day I sit behind a desk surrounded by dusty old ledgers and rolls upon rolls of musty parchment waiting for someone to come in. I was hoping for something with more interaction with people.” Neville patted her hand sympathetically, “Han's more of a people person.”

Hermione launched into a series of possible options of other jobs at the Ministry and in other venues that may interest Hannah. The foursome bounced ideas back and forth between themselves about the subject. They became so engrossed in the topic that the sound of Dean Thomas' familiarly friendly baritone surprised them. “I think you'd make a brilliant shopkeeper Hannah,” he paused for a neat then added, “or maybe an innkeeper as I recall you're really handy with a pitcher of ale.” Hannah smiled, “Dean, Demelza, hello, how are you?”

Dean returned Hannah's smile “We're good Hannah. Hi Neville, Hermione, Harry.” Harry, Neville and Hermione exchanged hellos with Dean and Demelza Robbins. It was clear that the two were a couple, considering that they were standing scarcely a breath apart and had their arms wrapped around each other's waists. Hermione posed a question, “So, Dean, how is your apprenticeship with Mr. Ollivander coming along?” The time he'd spent at Bill and Fleur's cottage during the war with Mr. Ollivander had unearthed an intense interest in wandlore that had led to a desire to take up the art of wand making. As Ollivander had no partner or any children to pass, his shop onto he agreed to take Dean on as an apprentice.

Dean smiled as he spoke, “it's a lot of work and most of the time I'm making a right mess of things but Ollivander thinks I've got the makings of right good wand maker.”

“We all knew you would make a wonderful wand maker Dean, you are after all an artist and what is wand making if it isn't art.” Luna's airy tones drew the attention of the group around the bar. Before anyone had the chance to respond Luna continued. “Dean will you and Demelza be joining our little celebration?”

Dean raised an eyebrow in question. “Celebration?” Luna nodded, “We're celebrating Harry and Neville's birthday. Luna spun around as though she was looking for someone. A smile blossomed across her face as she caught sight of Fabian Fortescue and called out brightly, “Fabian, our party of five has grown to eight, I trust that won't be a problem.” Fabian Fortescue stopped a wide smile covering his face as he grasped Luna's hand in both of his and said, “No trouble at all my dear Luna. I took the liberty of clearing off a portion of the back patio for you and your guests.” Luna's smile brightened and Fabian added, “If you'll all step this way.”

As everyone rose to their feet Hannah looked to Luna, “Who else is joining us?” Everyone looked around at Hannah with mildly curious expressions, she elaborated. “Luna said our party had grown from five to eight and there are only seven of us here, so who is our eighth?” The voice that answered Hannah's query was a deep unfamiliar baritone. “I believe, my dear, that the eighth of whom you speak would be me!”

A tall slightly windswept wizard with light brown hair and bright blue eyes hurried to Luna's side. He leaned down and dropped haphazard kiss on Luna's right cheek as he simultaneously apologized, “I'm so sorry I'm late darling but a shipment of Bowtruckles got loose in the offices and Perenelle needed a had hand nipping back in their crates, she gets so flustered when dealing with accidents the poor dear.” Luna smiled and nodded, “Its quiet all right, we were just going out to the table.” She turned casually to the group and said, “Everyone I'd like you to meet Newton Schmander, IV, my boyfriend.” Luna turned and headed after Fabian wondering aloud about which dish she'd be having that evening.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Harry and Hermione arrived at 12 Grimmauld place just after eleven. They'd had a wonderful evening at Fortescue's. The company and the conversation had been excellent. There had been a minor incident with a snap happy photographer from the Prophet but all in all Harry had to say that it had been one of his better birthdays. Spending the evening in the company of his friends and their significant others had woken him to fact of exactly how much he and Hermione had been missing by closeting themselves away in an attempt not to hurt Ron and Ginny's feelings. The more Harry thought about it the more pointless that line of thinking seemed. Ron and Ginny were never going to move on if they didn't ever accept he and Hermione as a couple. Having that idea firmly set in his mind Harry turned to look at Hermione and calmly stated, “Hermione, I think it's high time we stopped indulging the whims and wants of everyone else and looked after ourselves and what we want,” he paused to gather himself then said, “What do you think about you and I living together?”

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More important things

Chapter 9: The Simplicity of Resignation

Hermione sat frozen in her seat, eyes wide, mouth forming a perfectly round O of surprise. It seemed as though she had just heard Harry ask her what she thought about the two of them living together. Hermione shut her eyes and gave her head a quick firm shake as though to clear it. Certain that she was imaging things, Hermione opened her eyes; her intention was to ask Harry what he'd said but one look at his face told her that she had not gotten the wrong end of the stick. Harry knew that Hermione had been taken aback by his question. He allowed her a few moments to digest his words all the while gazing resolutely back at her as she regained her bearings. After several seconds that seemed like minutes Hermione spoke. “You want us to live together… as… as in you and I here… here at Grimmauld Place…” Hermione's voice stuttered to a halt. Harry nodded in reply. “I'm sick of putting my life on hold. I want to be with you and I want to be with you now.”

“Harry we are together…” Hermione's response was overridden by Harry's words. “ Yes we're together so long as it's behind closed doors and Ron and Ginny won't get wind of it…”

This time it was Hermione who interrupted Harry. “I thought we both agreed that it was best if we kept our relationship out of the public eye and focused on us.” Hermione emphasized the last word. Her voice went up an octave as she asked. “Are you saying that that is no longer the case?” Harry shook his head as he answered, “I did and I still do agree with that Hermione, the only problem is that our relationship hasn't been about us and I seriously doubt if anything I do will ever be out of the public…” Hermione interjected again. “What has our relationship been about if it hasn't been about us? Harry you're not making any sense!”

Harry took a deep breath and weighed his words carefully before he spoke. “Hermione, what I'm trying and apparently doing a bad job of saying is that we haven't truly been adhering to our own resolutions. We've been so consumed with trying not to upset Ron and Ginny that we haven't been focusing on us, on building our relationship into something more.” Harry paused and reached across the minuscule distance separating Hermione and he. He laced his fingers through hers and in a quiet voice whispered, “all this time we've been spending trying to make things easier for Ron and Ginny we've been denying ourselves the chance to build something real between us. And to be honest our being so careful not to hurt them hasn't stopped either of them from behaving as they have done.”

“Harry they're hurt.” Harry dismissed Hermione's words with a curt shake of his head. “Ron and Ginny are a great many things but hurt isn't one of them.” Ignoring the shocked look that crossed Hermione's face Harry continued, “all the bile and venom that Ginny's been spewing about you isn't hurt Hermione, it's vindictive and vengeful. She's acting like a great spoiled brat, we haven't been together for more than a year and this is how she behaves when she learns I'm with someone else. For Merlin's sake, she was with Dean and look at how badly she treated him. Seeing this side of Ginny has made it clear to me that whatever our relationship was about, it was never about any genuine feeling she had about me.”

Squeezing his hand gently in her own Hermione replied, “I'll grant you that Ginny's infatuation with you doesn't qualify as hurt but the situation with Ron is different… he and I were together and I didn't exactly treat him fairly by lying about my feelings for you.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he retorted, “Ron's acting like an overgrown two year old, like he always has done.” Hermione looked as though she was about to interrupt but Harry rushed on. “Ron always reacts like a petulant child when things don't go his way; he's done it for years; back in fourth year with the Goblet of Fire, the way he walked out on us during the Horcrux hunt, the complete arse he made of himself in sixth year with Lavender Brown. Whenever Ron can't have what he wants, the way he wants he throws a ruddy tantrum. I'm not trying to say that what you and I did to him was fair or right in any way but honestly, his running around shagging anything that'll move while you and I barely hold hands in public isn't solving anything either is it.”

Harry threw himself back against the back of the couch, the movement dislodged his hand from Hermione's, he huffed in exasperation. “I don't know if Ron and Ginny are ever going to get over the claims they feel they have on us but I do know that the fact of the matter is we hurt them by deciding to be together and nothing we do short of ending our relationship is going to change that, our keeping out of sight isn't helping them along.” Harry leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and snapped his mouth shut. Hermione reached out and caressed Harry's cheek, his eyes popped open as she spoke, “Harry I'm sorry.” A frown creased Harry's brow as he reached up and covered Hermione's hand with his own, “Love, what are you apologizing for?” Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, “I'm apologizing because you're right. I've been so concerned about not creating trouble with Ron and Ginny I haven't focused on what's important… I've been neglecting you and I'm terribly sorry.”

Harry let go of Hermione's hand and pulled her into his arms. Cradling her against him, he tilted her head back until their gazes met, “Hermione you haven't got anything to be sorry for, and you haven't been neglecting me any more than I've been neglecting you…” Hermione cut in, “but you said that you were sick of putting your life on hold on account of Ron and Ginny…” The rest of Hermione's words were hushed by Harry pressing his finger gently against her lips, “I did say that and I am sick of putting my life with you on hold but I'm not blaming or accusing you of anything. It's just that tonight, being out with Neville and Hannah and everyone else made me realize how much I want what they have with you. I want to take you out for romantic dinners at posh restaurants and out dancing till the wee hours of the morning.”

Hermione laughed, “Harry you don't even like dancing.” Harry grinned sheepishly, “I'd do just about anything if it meant being with you.” Hermione cupped his cheek, drawing his face down to hers as she whispered, “I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere.” Their lips met in the now familiar dance that they had perfected over the past weeks. Their mouths tangled together, tongues touching, lips melding into each other in a sensual kiss that left them both breathless when they broke apart. Harry nuzzled Hermione's neck dropping kisses along her neck and muttered, “So when should we have Kreacher to move your things?” Hermione bit down on her bottom lip as Harry playfully nipped at her pulse point and half moaned half whispered her querying reply, “What things of mine does Kreacher need to move?” Harry kissed his way back up her throat and with a chuckle answered back, “Well love, considering that you're moving into Grimmauld Place I would imagine you'd want or need all your things but so long as I get you, everything else is optional.”

Hermione swallowed convulsively as she replied. “I'm not sure that you and I living together is all that good of an idea.” Harry's amorous ministrations ground to a halt as Hermione's words sunk in. Rearing back he cautiously reiterated her words in the form of a question, “You don't think our living together is a good idea?” Hermione rushed to explain herself. “Our being together… this relationship it's all so new and we're getting to know each other as something other than friends and I'm just not sure if living together is the most conducive means to accomplish that.”

Harry drug his left hand through his habitually disheveled hair as he tried to make sense of what Hermione had just said. Something of his confusion must have shown on his face, in a very quiet voice Hermione amended her previous statement, “It's a very big step Harry.” Harry nodded his head in agreement. “It is a big step Hermione and I understand your feeling like it may be a bit too much too soon but would you at least consider the possibility. I know it seems like a lot to ask but between hectic our schedules and trying to stay out of sight of the press we never get any alone time. Any minute now, you'll be heading off to make it home before your mum and dad start to worry. And I'm not complaining… really I'm not… I truly do understand I just happen to think that living together would bring us closer.” Hermione opened her mouth to respond but Harry overrode whatever she had been about to say with a shake of his head. Taking her hand in his again, he said, “Just promise me you'll at least think about it.” Hermione nodded as she mouthed the word alright.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

“Hermione is everything alright? You seem a bit out of sorts.” Neville's query roused Hermione from her wandering thoughts. It was a Saturday, one of the rare Saturdays in which Hermione found herself free of the Ministry. She'd been wondering how she would spend her day when she received an owl from Neville asking if she felt up to helping him with a bit of shopping. His grandmother's birthday was in a week's time and he was unsure about what to get her. Hannah had suggested a nice new hat or a set of robes and would have come with him had she of not had to stay home to look after a sick cousin. Hermione saw the owl as a godsend; she wasn't much in the mood for bumming about the house or relying on her parents for company. Composing her face into an apologetic smile, she replied. “I'm sorry I'm being such atrocious company Neville I suppose I'm just a bit preoccupied.”

Neville nodded good naturedly and murmured a single epithet, “Harry.” Hermione's gaze drifted up from the rack of robes she was shifting through and connected with Neville's, with a nod of resignation she asked, “Is it that obvious?” Neville chuckled lightly as he replied, “Yeah it is a bit obvious but only because you've got on your Harry look.” Hermione's eyes widened a little in their sockets. “My Harry look?” Neville's cheeks pinked. Hermione ignored his embarrassment and turning fully to face him asked, “What exactly do you mean by my Harry look?”

Neville smiled as he responded to Hermione's queries, “Your Harry look… it's the look you get whenever you're in a tizzy over something to do about Harry. Its equal parts exasperation, consternation and adoration.”

“Based on your detailed description it seems as those you've seen quite a bit of my Harry look.” Neville nodded in response. “Saw loads of your Harry look and your Ron look while we were back at Hogwarts.” Neville clarified his reference to Hermione's Ron look. “Your Ron look was a lot like your Harry look only it was more exasperation and consternation than adoration most times.”

Hermione smiled ruefully at the mention of Ron's name. Catching the look on her face Neville quietly muttered, “Sorry I didn't mean to bring up any unpleasant memories.” Hermione shook her head and answered back. “It's alright Neville, really it is.” She paused for a second before adding, “If anyone should be apologizing it should be me apologizing to you.” Neville frowned in confusion, “What do you need to apologize to me for.” Hermione shrugged, “It can't have been easy for you being caught in the middle of all this to-do between Harry, Ron and me.” Silence engulfed them for several moments before Neville broke the silence. “I'd wager that you've had it far tougher than I have, I'm not the one turning up in the Prophet every other day and I haven't lost any of my best friends.” Hermione smiled, “Because you were smart enough not to leave your girlfriend for her best mate.”

“No I didn't do anything as mad as that but then your situation was a bit more complicated than what you just described.”

Hermione was surprised by Neville's depiction of her predicament, “And what do you think is complicated about it?” she queried him. Neville's reply was succinct and immediate, “What's not complicated about being in love with two people?”

Assiduously avoiding Neville's gaze Hermione placed the dark blue dress robes she'd been holding back on the rack from which she had taken them and asked, “What makes you think I was in love with two people?”

Neville moved to the opposite side of the rack, selected a set of hideous pea green witch's robes, and with a shrug replied, “Well I suppose that it'd be wrong to say you were in love with two people. As near, as I could ever tell you were always in love with Harry… but Harry's preoccupations with Cho and Ginny kept him from seeing how he truly felt about you and convinced you to settle for Ron's more overt attentions.” Neville stopped speaking and devoted his attention to the robes in his hand. Contorting his face into a frown that signaled his having decided against the green robes, Neville placed them back on the rack and picked up where he left off as though he had never stopped speaking. “You really tried with Ron but it was always Harry that moved you. Everyone saw you and Ron rowing all the time and said it was passion. Most never paid attention to how fiercely devoted to Harry you were. No one ever seemed to notice the little things where you two were concerned… like how he was the only person you'd truly break rules for and you were the only person who ever made him feel properly ashamed when he'd gone too far. If we'd truly known anything about passion we'd have seen you and Harry for what you were.” Cocking his head to the side, Neville suddenly changed direction, “Maybe a new handbag or a cloak would be a better choice?”

Hermione nodded absently, still pondering what Neville had said about her and Harry. Lost in her own thoughts Hermione followed Neville over to the section of the shop devoted to cloaks and accessories. For the next twenty minutes, the pair half-heartedly sorted through handbags, jewelry, hats and other items before settling on a bog-standard black cloak and a rather smart hat, which Neville lamented it not, having any birds adorning it. The essential purchase made the duo adjourned to the Leaky Cauldron for a bite to eat. It wasn't until Tom had brought their food that Hermione reintroduced the topic of her relationship with Harry again.

“Neville, do you really believe what you were saying earlier about Harry and me?” Neville looked up from the steak and kidney pie he was devouring. Being careful to swallow his mouthful of food first, he responded with a question. “Do I believe what about you and Harry?” Hermione rushed to answer. “Back in the shop you said that if you'd truly known anything about passion you would have realized that it had always been Harry and me. Do you really believe that what Harry and I have is unique, that it's something that could last?”

Neville answered Hermione's question with one of his own, “Hermione is everything alright with you and Harry?” Hermione nodded, Neville asked another question, “If things are fine what's got you so scattered?”

Hermione sighed and replied, “Harry asked me to move in with him.” At Hermione's pronouncement, Neville sat back in his seat and laid down his fork. “When did this happen and what did you say?”

“It happened the night of the birthday party. Harry said being out with you and Hannah, Luna and Newt and Dean and Demelza made him see what we're missing out on being so cautious about Ron and Ginny's reactions. He reckons we're depriving ourselves of the chance to really build this relationship into something worthwhile.”

“So I take it you said no to moving in with him.”

“I didn't exactly say no…” Neville cut in, “But you didn't say yes.” Hermione shook her head as she blew out an exasperated breath of air, “I said that it was a big step and that with our relationship being so new that I wasn't sure that our living together just now is the best way to go about things.”

“HA HA HA!” Neville let out a shout of laughter that caused several heads to turn in his and Hermione's direction. Ignoring the curious glances being thrown their way and the somewhat confused look on Hermione's face Neville shook his head, “Hermione that has to be the absolute daftest thing I've heard!”

Surprised and a bit put out by Neville's reaction Hermione inquired, “And what pray tell is so daft about it?” Neville took a deep breath, and then began. “What's daft is you trying to make up for hurting Ron and to a lesser degree Ginny. There's no changing what's done. You chose Harry. And personally, I can't see Ron or Ginny ever forgiving either of you for it. Ginny will never forgive you because right or wrong she believes Harry is her destiny and I can't imagine anything short of death altering that idea for her anytime soon.”

Neville took a breath and continued on, “As for Ron, I honestly think you stand a better chance of Ginny forgiving you before he ever does.” Hermione looked as if she were about to respond but Neville held up a hand to silence her as he finished. “He has been betrayed by his two best friends, the two people in this world that he chose to love. Harry crossed a line that a bloke never crosses, not with your best mate. And I know that neither of you set out to hurt him but your being true to yourselves didn't leave you much of an option, either way someone was going to be hurt and like most people you chose not to hurt yourselves.”

Again Hermione looked as if she was about to say something, Neville continued on ignoring her slightly opened mouth. “I'm not judging you or Harry. It's easy for me to sit here and say that I would never and could never do such a thing but then I've never been in your situation. So I can't truly say what I would and would not have done one way or the other. But what I don't understand and what I think is truly daft is what was the point of throwing away what you had with Ron to be with Harry if you weren't going to truly be with Harry? I say, in for a knut, in for galleon.”

Having spoken his peace on the matter Neville picked up his fork and started in on his steak and kidney pie. Hermione allowed Neville's words to sink in as she aimlessly pushed her food about her plate.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Jane Granger stood stock still in the middle of the lounge staring between her daughter and her husband. Hermione's face was set as though it was etched in stone, Jane could see that she was gearing up for a row. Jane was not surprised by her daughter's expression and attitude considering the little bomb she'd just dropped. What she found disarming was the expression of resigned acceptance that adorned Edward's face. The last time he had seen that look on his face it had precluded their sending their only daughter off to study at a school for witches and wizards. Jane had been against the idea of sending Hermione to Hogwarts. It was not that she wanted to deprive her the opportunity of understanding and living up to her full potential of being a witch, she simply was not prepared to lose her only child to a world that she herself could never fully be a part of.

As she stood looking between her husband and her daughter she realized that yet again she was about to lose her daughter to an inevitability of life. She had known from the moment that she'd received Hermione's first letter from Hogwarts that this moment would eventually, but somehow she'd hoped it wouldn't come quite so soon. She could rage and storm of course, she could outline an entire list of why this wasn't s good idea, she could even guilt her into changing her mind if it came down to it but in the end Hermione would still go. And if she pushed too hard, her leaving would take her away from her permanently. Swallowing back every word that was dancing on the tip of her tongue, Jane forced a smile and asked, “Do you need a hand with your packing?”

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Harry stepped into the familiar confines of Grimmauld Place expecting to receive his usual greeting of Kreacher reaching for his cloak and steering him towards the kitchen for a bit of something to eat as he inquired how his day had been. Thus, he was surprised not only by the absence of his faithful house elf but also by the presence of three large trucks and an incomprehensible number of boxes full of books. Walking over to the nearest box he picked up the book lying on top and found he was looking at a leather bound copy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Up until that moment, he had been utterly exhausted but the sudden knowledge that Hermione was there, there to stay somehow managed to erase every drop of his exhaustion. A surge of energy pulsed through his limbs and he bounded up the stairs two at a time.

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