Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and The Gilded Portrait

A/N; Character and plot development in progress. This chapter is a bit long. It does get better and more exciting, I promise. Some of the next chapters will contain gratuitous smut. A few of our teenaged characters will be acting like…well…teenagers!

Standard Disclaimers Apply…as always.

Chapter Nine - Saying Goodbye

Harry appeared in the shadows of some trees next to what looked like a small park. Across the street was a tall row of hedges that ran the length of the sidewalk completely obscuring whatever was on the other side.

After making certain he was still covered in his cloak he made his way toward a set of ancient-looking arched top wrought iron gates nestled smartly within the thick hedges. Two stone pillars stood on either side of the gates and were topped with miniature medieval looking gargoyles. Both looked like smaller versions of the one that guarded the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

Set in the arched tops of the ornate ironwork of the gates were what appeared to be two bones crossed in an x-pattern signifying Harry was at the right place.

As he made his way toward the gates he spied a thin, bent old man who seemed to be tending to the hedges.

Must be a caretaker...

As he got closer, the old man straightened with much more alacrity then he should for a man his age and it set Harry on edge instantly. His hand twitched for his wand.

The wrinkled old man looked in Harry's direction then muttered, "Who goes there," in a voice that should have been coming from a bloke half his age. Harry realized at once this was probably one of Kingsley's Aurors in disguise and relaxed, but only slightly.

"I here your footsteps," the man stated pulling his wand, "Show yourself!"

Harry looked around and could see the street was mostly deserted. There were a few Muggles with their children at the park across the street but none seemed to be paying them any attention. The few cars that passed zipped by much too quickly to pay them any heed. Still, Harry moved off the sidewalk and pressed himself as close to the hedge as he could before removing his cloak.

When the old man spied him he relaxed completely and put his wand away.

"Thought it might be you Mr. Potter but just being cautious, you understand," the Auror said in a hushed voice, "Kingsley told us to be on the lookout for anything suspicious."

Harry nodded without responding.

"Right, this way then," the old man said turning. He made his way toward the gates but just before he reached them he stopped at a rather thick section of hedge just to the left of the entrance.

He tapped on a branch three times with his wand. The hedge gave a slight shudder but that was all. Harry simply stood there.

The old man glanced at Harry then grinned, "Just walk right through Mr. Potter, nothing to it. Once on the other side just stick to the path. It will take you where you want to go."

"Thanks," Harry said. He took a breath, closed his eyes then leaned into the hedge. He fully expected to feel the branches pull and scrape at him on the way through but was surprised to find he felt only a pleasant waft of cool breeze.

Once he cleared the hedge a wide open expanse spread out before him. Headstones and monuments cluttered the landscape as far as the eye could see on the gently rolling hills. A narrow foot path marked on either side by what looked like a knee-high fence made from human bones wound pell-mell through the graveyard.

It took a better part of twenty minutes to make his way to a slight rise. When he crested the low hill he stepped out into an open area where the ground was covered in lush green grass. The sun overhead was bright. He had to shadow his eyes to see a small group of what he was certain to be witches and wizards off to the left.

As he came closer to the congregation he started seeing a few people he recognized. There was a podium set up behind a casket covered with flowers of all kinds. A wizard photo sat in the center of the arrangement and Colin Creevey's smiling face peered out of the frame laughing, winking and snapping off photos with his ever-present camera.

Harry couldn't help but smile.

Several rows of small white chairs were down in front of the podium and casket. As Harry took a seat in the very last row still hidden beneath his cloak he spotted Kingsley Shacklebolt standing off to the far side of the gathering. He recognized Dennis Creevey sitting in the front row with who Harry assumed was his mother with her arm around Dennis' shoulder.

A young man in an Auror's tunic stepped up next to Kingsley and whispered in his ear. He only nodded and went back to listening to the speaker.

As Harry listened he discovered it was Colin and Dennis' father at the podium. Between fits of weeping and smiles he told everyone what a great son Colin had been. Other's got up and spoke on Colin's behalf.

As Harry sat and listened to Colin's friends and family speak about him, he was getting a bit frustrated. He knew he had no right to feel that way but it seemed to Harry his family and friends were missing a great deal of what Colin's true nature was all about.

He agreed Colin was small and sweet and kind and gentile but there were other more significant sides to the little bloke they hadn't seen.

For the first time in his life, Harry felt compelled to get up, throw off his invisibility cloak and go down there and say what was on his mind. As he sat there thinking he decided to do just that.

Harry stood and slipped the cloak off, folded it and slipped it under his shirt. He then made his way right down the center isle of the service toward the front where a Healer was regaling everyone with a story about patching Colin up after a rather nasty broom accident when he was 12. When he was finished the Healer asked if there was anyone else who would like to say something. Harry piped up.

"I would like to say something if I may, sir."

As the crowd turned to see who had spoken it was if they had all been hit with a mass Petrificus Totalus.

Harry stepped up to the podium, tried to collect his thoughts and calm his nerves. He knew he had no gift for making speeches and wasn't as cleaver as Hermione or witty as Ron so he decided to speak from his heart.

As he looked out over the small stunned group sitting before him, he realized there was absolute silence. It seemed even the breeze stopped blowing.

"I…I've been listening to the things everyone has been saying about Colin today and I think they are all very nice…"

Harry swallowed nervously. His throat suddenly seemed as dry as two year old parchment left in the sun.

"But the Colin I knew was much more than innocent and sweet and kind. He was also one of the bravest blokes I've ever met."

There was a collective gasp.

"That's right. Colin might have been small but he had the heart of a Gryffindor Lion. I saw it first hand."

"When I first met Colin his first year I must admit I was a bit annoyed with him at times. He was always taking pictures of me with that camera of his. I think he thought of me as some kind of hero or something. But as it turned out, that camera saved his life from a Basilisk."

A ripple of shock ran through the group.

"As time went on I got to know Colin a bit better and I guess he decided I wasn't much different than anyone else and calmed down a bit. He was so funny some times. But the thing I remember most about Colin was his strength and courage."

Harry glanced at Colin's mother and father and his younger brother Dennis as they sat there in disbelief that The Savior of the Wizarding World was actually in front of them saying these things about their son and brother. It made his insides squirm a bit but Harry was determined.

"In our fifth year, the Ministry took over Hogwarts for part of the school year. They didn't want us to learn defensive magic because they were unwilling to believe Voldemort had returned. I guess we all know now they were wrong."

"So some of us got together and created a club of sorts. It was banned by the new administration but we didn't care. We wanted to learn how to defend ourselves. It was a great risk to do this but we were determined. We called it Dumbledore's Army…"

Some in the crowd nodded their heads in recognition of the story Harry was telling and his brother Dennis, who was also in the club, beamed at Harry and gave him a thumbs up. He pressed on.

"We would meet once a week in a special place in Hogwarts and practice defensive magic until we learned as much as we could. I tell you about this because I want you to know that Colin and Dennis were very much a part of our group. Colin was always the first to show up and usually the last to leave. He would help us prepare for our lessons, stand lookout or do anything we asked of him."

"No-one worked harder and wanted to learn more than Colin. He was fearless and threw himself into every lesson completely."

Harry smiled as he looked down at the podium as a fond memory of Colin filled his mind. He had to tell it.

"Once when we were practicing disarming jinxes, I was partnered with Colin. He was trying so hard. He tried to hit me with an expelliarmus. It backfired slightly, knocked poor Colin quite off his feet and tossed him into the fireplace. We all rushed to extract him from the floo but by then the back of his head was smoldering and his jumper was on fire."

He could here the tittering and cackles of laughter at the anecdote.

"He wasn't hurt but he jumped right up telling everyone he was fine smoking like a steaming bowl of porridge. That's just the way Colin was. He was tough and he never gave up. He volunteered for everything. He had more grit than any of us."

"I stand up here today to say goodbye to a good friend. Colin Creevey was my friend. I had a lot of respect for him. But as I stand here I can't feel sorrow or regret. If I do then it will make Colin's sacrifice seem pointless. So the best thing I can do is remember him for what he was."

"Colin was honest to a fault, tougher than a bloke twice his size and braver then all of us. He gave his life so we could be free. Thank you for allowing me to know you Colin. I'll never forget what you've done for us all."

With that Harry stepped away from the podium and went over to Colin's casket. He placed his hand on the cold metal lid.

Many of Colin's relatives came to Harry's side. His mother held Harry tightly thanking him for his wonderful words. Harry took the time to shake every hand and accept every embrace before he decided it was time to leave.

Before departing he thanked Kingsley. Kingsley took Harry's hand in a firm shake.

"That was a wonderful thing you did Harry," Kingsley smiled warmly, "It will be a long time before those people forget those words."

Harry looked at Kingsley for a moment.

"That's good," Harry said, "Because they were all true."

Kingsley reached into his robe and produced a folded piece of parchment and handed it to Harry.

"Enchanted guest list for the Lupin-Tonks service," he said, "You'll need it to get in. There's going to be quite a few dignitaries there as well as the Minister. Security's going to be tight. Present that to any guard and you'll be admitted without any trouble." He turned to go but then stopped and looked back at Harry, "I don't think you'll need to hide under your cloak this time Harry."

Harry nodded.

With that he turned on the spot and went back to Grimmuald Place to make ready for Dora and Remus' service.

---@>---

Hermione was in a daze. When she apparated into the kitchen at #12 she hoped to drop right into the midst of Harry and the boisterous gaggle of homeless Weasleys but instead all she encountered was the utter silence of an empty room.

She wondered where everyone could be. She thought they may have gone to Ottery St. Catchpole to work on mending the Burrow or maybe they were still at St. Mungo's.

She wondered if she should just go to her parents place and clean up a bit. She was still wearing the same clothes she had on when they faced down Voldemort and the Death Eaters. She had cleaned them since but she still wanted to change. A long soak in her own bathtub at home sounded good…

…But I really need to see my boys right now…I need them.

As she stood in the middle of the silent kitchen she spotted the Daily Prophet sitting folded on the nicked and scarred old table. With a sigh she plopped down on the bench and unfolded it without much interest.

Normally she thought it important to stay abreast of the latest news and happenings in the wizarding world but since the death of Voldemort, the subsequent disintegration of the Death Eaters and the problems with her parents it just didn't seem all that important.

As soon as her eyes landed on the bottom of the front page she froze. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over her head.

Ron Weasley's contorted face looked up at her as that…that little blond tart smiled and waved out from under his arm.

If there was ever a moment in her life when she could have raised her wand to utterly destroy another human it was at that moment.

Hermione's face flushed hot and her ears burned. Tears of anger and frustration blurred her vision. She closed her eyes, clenching her teeth as she dropped the paper back on the table like it had burned her hands. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Only a small part of her wanted to read the accompanying article to make certain she was not jumping to conclusions but the rest of her just wanted to throw up.

Her stomach twisted violently. She realized she'd had little to eat in the last few days. With an angry swish of her hand she turned the front page over so it covered Ron's ridiculously vapid image.

When she glanced at the small headline on the inside of the first page she saw that Mr. Weasley had been nominated and then chosen for the Minister for Magic post. He had chosen his son, Percy Weasley as Under-Secretary. The story directly below it tagged Kingsley Shacklebolt Director for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

At least there's some positive news.

She suddenly decided she was not going to let the exploits of Ron Bilius Weasley drag her emotions down any further then they already were. She had too many other much more important things to worry about. She had research to do, she had a list to reconstruct and she had to get her parent's house in order for when they were ready to come home. She had their Dental practice to re-open and she had no time for the stupid, juvenile antics of a boy who refused to be responsible for anything.

Just as she jumped up from the table to leave she heard the front door open. As she heard Harry's voice calling for Kreacher, the wrinkled old Black matriarch's curtains that covered her portrait flew open and she tore into Harry with her usual vitriolic diatribe wailing at the top of her lungs.

Hermione dashed to the steps that led up from the kitchen into the hall just in time to see Harry swipe his wand at the curtains cutting the hateful old woman off mid-insult with nothing more than an irritated wrinkle on his brow.

As he moved down the hallway she saw he was looking at a piece of paper in his hand and didn't notice her standing there.

He was wearing what she knew were the only nice clothes he owned which could mean only one of three things…He was either at some sort of hearing in front of the Wizengamot, had just attended a wedding or he had just come from a funeral. Those were the only occasions that would cause Harry bloody Potter to dress up.

The Yule Ball didn't count…He hadn't really wanted to go to that.

For reasons she could not at that moment identify the frustrations and anger she was just experiencing seemed to ease as she watched him moving toward her.

"I think it's well past time to do away with that barmy old hag's portrait isn't it Harry?"

Harry looked up a bit startled but he knew the voice at once.

"Hermione," he exclaimed as a huge smile exploded across his face, but as he took in her emaciated and disheveled appearance his smile slid right off like someone had smacked him, "You loo…what's wrong? Are you alright?"

The alarm in Harry's voice startled her quite a bit. She had not looked at herself in a mirror since she left the Prefect's bath at Hogwarts. She just shrugged her shoulder, "I've been better," was all she said.

To Harry it looked as if she hadn't eaten in days. The dark bruises under her eyes looked almost painful. Her hair was a mess and her clothes looked as if she had worn them while being put through a mangle to wring them out.

"What's going on," Harry moved forward and took her hand. It was cold, "Did you get your parents back from Australia alright?"

Hermione ignored the barrage of questions with a shrug of her shoulders.

Harry called Kreacher again. This time the old house elf appeared down in the kitchen.

"Is there something you require ma…Harry Potter?" Kreacher asked.

Harry pulled Hermione along with him and she reluctantly followed. When Harry saw the copy of the Prophet open on the table he knew right away she had seen Ron's front page picture. He would address that later. He was much more worried about her condition.

"Hermione you look like your starving. Have a spot of lunch with me, won't you?"

Just the thought of food made her ill but she knew she needed to get something in her stomach. She couldn't keep going like she had been. She had much to do so she reluctantly agreed.

They decided on something light. Kreacher suggested a hardy beef broth soup with veggies and fresh baked bread.

"That's fine Kreacher, thank you," Hermione said without much enthusiasm.

As she sat with Harry at the table she glanced at the Daily Prophet then back at Harry quickly.

"So," she asked looking at her hands, "have you seen the brainless oaf?"

"No Hermione," Harry replied not needing to ask who she was referring to, "not since we left Hogwarts."

She didn't inquire any further and Harry got the impression by the dark look on her face she didn't really want to so he changed the subject.

He told her about Colin Creevey's funeral and about the Tonks/Lupin service later that afternoon. Hermione let her head fall into her hands feeling ashamed.

"I've forgotten completely about the services," she moaned, "I feel so embarrassed."

"Nonsense, Hermione," Harry said, "Everyone knows you've been busy getting your parents situated. That can't be an easy task. You've got people helping you don't you?"

If you only knew!

She only nodded. She had no desire to go into details about her troubles. She had no desire to talk about much of anything she had been through over the past several days.

The smell of the soup and fresh baked rolls permeated the kitchen. Hermione found her hunger returning with a vengeance. When her stomach made a loud rumbling sound that made her and Harry laugh Kreacher was sliding two good-sized bowls of the soup in front of them and a carving board with a sliced loaf of steaming bread slathered with butted landed gently between them.

The first spoon-full of soup with the tender chopped vegetables made her almost weep.

"Oh Kreacher," Hermione moaned, "This is so good. It's exactly what I needed. Thank you so much!"

Kreacher bowed low looking very pleased with himself.

"Yes Kreacher, thank you," Harry added.

"It is my pleasure Mistress, Harry Potter," he croaked, "Enjoy."

Harry couldn't help but watch Hermione devour the soup. He had never seen her so put out before. He knew there was more than what she was telling but decided whatever it was could wait. He wasn't going to pressure her to talk. He figured if she wanted to she would in her own time. She usually did anyway.

Another full bowl of the delicious soup and several pieces of warm, buttery bread later Hermione leaned back with her hands on her tummy.

"Better?" Harry asked chuckling slightly.

"Merlin yes," she whispered, "thank you Harry. I can always count on you to know what's best for me can't I."

That statement surprised him for a moment then he regarded it.

"Erm…Not really Hermione," he said matter-of-factly, "It's usually the other way round. It's us who seem to always count on you to know what's best. That's the way it's been since I can remember but it's nice to be able to return the favor now and again."

She looked down into the empty bowl. Harry saw such a deep look of sadness in her eyes he almost said something.

"I'm not sure I would be the one to count on now Harry," she whispered cryptically. It was almost as if she were speaking to herself.

Harry was becoming even more concerned but he forced himself to keep his raging curiosity in check.

"I would like to go to the service with you this afternoon if that's alright Harry?"

"Of course it's alright Hermione," Harry replied.

She wanted to ask the obvious question but decided it was none of her business. It surprised her Ginny wasn't there with him at that very moment and she found it a bit surprising but with everything going on she figured there had to be a reasonable explanation. She was just grateful she had someone to turn to even if it was just to share some space and some really scrumptious nosh.

She knew she had so much to do but going to the funeral felt necessary. She was lost in her overwhelming things to do list when Harry's voice cut across her silent reverie.

"Maybe you should try and take a kip before the service this afternoon Hermione," he said, trying to be nonchalant about it, "No offense but you really look like you could use the rest. Service doesn't start `till six."

Hermione looked at the clock on the mantle. It was almost eleven. She just shook her head.

"I'm fine Harry," trying to convince herself more than him, "I know I look a fright. I just need a nice hot bath and some clean clothes. I still have a few things back to my parent's house so I'll just nip over there and meet you back here at about five, ok?"

Harry nodded and stood up. Kreacher began clearing the table. Hermione rose and went to Kreacher. She bent down and placed a kiss on the top of his wrinkled old head.

"Thank you Kreacher," she smiled.

Kreacher bowed again as Hermione readied herself to apparate.

"See you at five then," Harry said.

With a loud pop she was gone.

---@>---

During her first term at Hogwarts, Muggle-born witch Hermione Granger, then just 11 years old had wanted to experiment with all manor of spells, charms, incantations and magic from the very day she received her wand but the Reasonable Restriction for the Use of Underage Magic had prevented it and since she lived in an all Muggle community it made things even more difficult. It was then she asked Professor McGonagall if there was any way around that restriction.

After several inquiries to then Cornelius Fudge's Ministry she was informed if she could show just cause for performing such magic in a Muggle setting she may be granted special permission but she'd have to have a very good reason.

After a twenty-one page dissertation on the benefits of practicing magic away from Hogwarts and two meetings with the Wizengamot, Hermione Jean Granger had been granted a limited permit to practice her magic within her home but only when Muggles were not present and she had to agree to tell no one. The secret had been protected by the Fidelius charm. Her parents didn't count because they already knew about her magic.

Hermione was the first and likely only student in history to have ever been granted such a privilege. Even the likes of Albus Dumbledore had never been granted access to underage magic outside of school.

As a result, after years of practice, study, application and trial and error, there were only two other places in Great Briton safer than and as impenetrable as the Granger house. They were Gringotts Wizard Bank and Hogwarts itself.

Much to her dismay, however both the wizard bank and Hogwarts had been breeched by intruders. One she was personally involved in. It was partly as a result of the continued breaches of defense at Hogwarts she had made the decision to move her parents.

Besides, most of her experiments have gone largely untested against a real threat so she decided not to take any chances with her parent's lives.

Although for the common wizard and/or Muggle burglar, the Granger home would be a very bad place to try and get into.

As a result of her experiments no-one was allowed to apparate into or near the house. All manner of traps were in place for any who tried to gain entry without permission and the floo had been warded against being connected to any other.

If that wasn't enough, if one did manage to gain entry and were still alive, there were charms and spells in place to trap them there so they couldn't get out.

Now, as she approached the house from the back yard she began removing the many wards and curses that permeated the residence. She felt there was no longer a need for such protection at present.

I'd like to see a Death Eater try to get in just now!

In her present state of mind it would be a fatal mistake.

As she made her way through the dark and silent house she had grown up in she continued to remove the many traps and spells she had so diligently placed throughout.

Once she reached her bedroom she pulled open the door. She was instantly attacked by the incantation of a huge, vicious slobbering guard dog with a nasty spiked dog collar.

It knocked her to the floor pinning her arms with its massive paws. As the beast leaned forward drooling slobber all over her shirt it was about to take a bit out of her neck.

"SPELLMAN'S SYLLABARY!" Hermione yelled.

The guard dog vanished in a puff of white smoke. She lay there on the floor shaking and panting, trying to get her pounding heart back under control.

Forgot about that one!

Once she managed to get back to her feet she made her way through her room and collected some clothes. She decided to dress for comfort.

She selected one of her most comfortable pair of blue jeans, a white cotton button-up blouse, her well worn cotton briefs and her favorite sports bra (no binding and really good support…not that there was all that much to support), thick ankle-high socks (the ones with hippogriffs embroidered on them) and her most favorite white trainers.

As she moved to the closet to find a light jacket she spied the picture hanging just over the lamp next to her canopy bed.

It was a copy of a picture Colin Creevey had taken of the three of them in the Gryffindor common room just after they had won the Quidditch cup. She reached up and pulled the picture down and settled on the edge of her bed.

Her fingers glided gently over the photo.

Tears came unbidden, splashing on the glass as she tried to remembered a time when things were simpler, when things were much less complicated and all she had to worry about was grades and essays and… but the truth was there had never been a simpler time.

Their lives at Hogwarts had always been filled with solving mysteries and narrow escapes, figuring out puzzles and riddles that meant the difference between life and death.

She suddenly realized it hadn't been bad luck or the misfortunes of fate; it had been a conscious choice from that very first day on the Hogwarts Express. She could have just as easily walked right past that compartment and ignored her curiosity. She could have been just like any other young student of magic.

As she watched the laughing, beaming face of Ron Weasley cheering for his best mate she tried to understand how it had all gone so horribly wrong. She wanted to convince herself there were things happening that were beyond her control but she knew better.

It was the choices one made that caused actions and reactions to the things around them. She knew her choice to remain at Hogwarts with Harry had hurt Ron. She didn't want to think her decision had caused him to go spinning off out of control. After all he had done and said some pretty ugly things to her over the years but as much as she disliked admitting it she knew her choice had contributed.

She made a decision right then she would try to mend the damage, irregardless of the results she had to try and find a way to pull them back together if it were possible. They had gone through too much and been friends too long to let this rift continue to widen between them.

With her decision lightening her heavy heart just a little she made her way through a long, soaking bath and then a quick shower to rinse off the bath oils. She took a bit of extra time with her hair and even applied a bit of muggle makeup to try and hide the dark circles under her eyes.

Even though she had decided to dress casual and comfortable she opted for her best dress robe for the service. She slipped it and her light jacket into a small Muggle back pack.

As she folded her dress robe neatly she spied her little beaded bag she had used to carry all their essentials during the hunt for the Horcruxes laying on her dresser. She realized she hadn't even unpacked it yet. She moaned. It was just one more thing she had to add to her ever-growing list of things she needed to do.

She spent the rest of the time drifting through the house planning how she was going to put things back together and clean it all up. There wasn't much to do really, a handy dust repellant spell had kept most everything clean, restocking the ice box and pantry with perishables and removing the sheets that covered everything was about the extent of it but would still take time.

She needed to be researching a solution to her parent's memory problems but she knew she would have to prioritize. Somewhere within all those things she needed to do she would have to find time to sleep, eat and do a better job of taking care of herself.

At five p.m. she went back out the back door and into the yard. She replaced a few of her stronger wards on the house then went back to #12.

---@>---

When Ron arrived in Diagon Alley he was almost shaking with dread at the thought of facing his family. He knew his much publicized nocturnal activity had caused an enormous stink with everyone judging by the tone and severity of the howler.

As he stood looking at the front of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes he decided there was no sense in delaying the inevitable so he strode inside, head held high like he owned the place.

To his relief, the shop was crowded as usual. He spotted George and Lee right away but didn't recognize the other two wearing the unmistakable Wheezes smocks.

As he elbowed his way toward the sales counter Lee was the first to look up and spot him.

"Well…well…well," Lee said, nudging George who was assisting a customer, "the Prodigal idiot has decided to show his well photographed mug!"

"Bugger off Lee," Ron sneered.

George looked at Ron with eyebrows raised.

"Lad," he said sternly, "You have absolutely no idea how much trouble you're in do you?"

Ron just shrugged. His insides were twisting into knots but he decided he wasn't going to let these two bait him into an argument. He still felt the twinges of the previous night's bender and his head still throbbed slightly.

"Mum sent me a howler that almost burned down a bloody flat," he eyed George wearily, "so I think I have an idea."

George and Lee laughed loudly at that.

"I could just imagine," George chuckled, "Well I guess that takes the Mickey out of anything I could add to it. You look like something a cat puked up," he reached behind the counter and came back with a key in his hand. He tossed it to Ron, "Flat number two is yours to use for now. Mum made me promise to put you up until they decide what to do with you. All I know, you better stay put if you know what's good for you."

Ron bristled at the thought his mother was treating him like a child but after all the ridiculous public attention he decided to make as little noise as possible. He took the key and was about to mention he didn't have any of his things and didn't even really remember where they were when George seemed to read his thoughts.

"You can thank Dad and Ginny for collecting you things. Dad got your trunk from Hogwarts and Ginny and Dean went by the Burrow and scraped together what they could salvage from the destruction. Isn't much but it's probably more then what you had the last few days."

"Right," Ron replied glumly, "thanks."

"Hey, don't thank me," George laughed, "I'm following orders just like you. Just so you know, the Tonks/Lupin funeral service is being held this evening at 6:00 and we're going to lay Fred to rest in the old garden at the Burrow at midnight tonight. I think Charlie, Bill and Percy are already over there."

Ron nodded, "Does this mean mum and dad are going to rebuild the Burrow then?"

George shrugged, "Have no idea but if I had to guess I'd say I doubt it. I heard mum say something about too many memories and she's completely taken with her new digs at the Minister's residence. I think she likes living in London but she won't admit it of course. I know Ginny's bonkers about the new place."

"Said `it's about time the Weasley's got to hold the non-crappy end of the stick for a change'," Lee added laughing, "One of the funniest things I've ever heard her say!"

Ron made no comment and turned to go to his flat when Lee moved forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. He moved close to Ron and dropped his voice to a whisper.

"Say Ron. I was just wondering. Who was that bird you were with the other night. I swear I recognize her from somewhere but I just can't quite recall. She's quite a looker."

Ron was beginning to get a bit angry. He frowned at Lee for a moment not really sure how he should answer but he was in no mood for Lee's nonsense.

"Look, I don't know," Ron replied, "I really don't care to talk about it right now." He turned and left the shop.

Once he had let himself into the flat he looked around for a bit then began sorting through his things to find something half-way decent to put on. After a much needed shower he dressed in a pair of dark brown corduroys and a blue and gold striped shirt with the Gryffindor coat of arms on the left breast pocket. He had found packages of new socks and boxers and silently blessed whoever had got them for him. Mum…of course!

After he was dressed he stood at the window looking out over the small alley that ran beside the shop.

He thought about Hermione for the first time in what seemed like days. He still felt a twinge of anger at her for running off but he simply resigned himself to believe she had felt the replacement of the Elder Wand more important. He wondered where she could be at the moment…then the realization that her parents were still in Australia finally occurred to him.

Of course!

He thumped his forehead with the heal of his hand. She was off getting her parents back or maybe they were already back and she was with them now. That would explain a lot.

He wondered if Harry had gone with her. The only mention of either one of them in the Prophet was to comment on their seemingly complete absence from the wizard world. He wondered if he should try and find them and explain. He knew Hermione wouldn't understand. She would be angry with him like always but then that seemed to be the way things had always been between them. He would do or say something stupid and she would be angry and act like she didn't care. The constant tension between them had shifted only for that brief moment at Hogwarts during the final confrontation but it must not have been enough to erase years of being at odds with one-another. He realized with a heavy heart he had been mostly responsible for it. He realized his behavior over the last few days would be the final straw as far as he and Hermione were concerned…he knew that.

He thought about Cassandra and how she had looked when he first opened his eyes that morning, the slender arch of her back, the taught rounded curve of her delectable bum. He couldn't seem to shut the images out of his mind.

As he stood there lost in his recollection he almost jumped right out of his trainers when an owl slammed beak-first into the closed window with a loud bang. The owl fluttered dizzily outside the window for a moment until Ron threw open the sash. It then zoomed in and crashed on the floor at Ron's feet. He plucked the note attached to its leg as the small owl wobbled around in a circle trying to regain its balance.

Ron opened the note and read…

Ronny,

I miss you soooo much love! I really want to see you.

Megan and I will be in London later on this afternoon.

Please meet us at the Leakey Cauldron! We'll be there

at about 6 o'clock tonight. Please, please please…Ronny!

I would really like to pick up where we left off last night

if you know what I'm saying? Until then love…

Cassie

Ron's face flushed hot at the thought of what she meant. He thought about what his mother would say but he suddenly didn't care. Cassandra really liked him and he really liked her. His hormones were raging almost beyond his control at the thought of her half-naked form lying next to him on her bed. He knew exactly what he was going to do…

I'm not a bloody kid anymore. I'm an adult now aren't I? Time to make my own decisions…

--@>--

The Lupin/Tonks funeral was much as Harry had expected. When he and Hermione arrived they were immediately approached by Aurors. The guest list Kingsley had given him was scanned with wands for authenticity. When it was discovered Hermione didn't possess a copy Kingsley was summoned at once.

As soon as the Head Auror saw Hermione he magically added her name to Harry's copy and they were allowed in.

Everyone who was anyone in the English wizard world was there. Almost the entire Ministry of Magic was present along with every member of the Wizengamot. Surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix were conversing with the staff of Hogwarts. They even spotted who Hermione had guessed were some of Remus' werewolf acquaintances. They looked dark and menacing but were trying to make an effort to be cordial. There were a few members of the original D.A. but they were aware of one glaring exception. Ron Weasley was no-where to be seen.

As Harry and Hermione made their way through the crowded reception they heard a very familiar voice.

"Hello Hermiown," the voice said, "It is good to see you again."

Viktor Krum materialized out of the crowd to stand like a baleful buzzard at Hermione's left elbow. Harry watched as the Quidditch star's eyes slid up and down Hermione's form. Something inside Harry suddenly burned with indignation but he stamped it down with effort.

"You haff…changed," Viktor drawled.

Hermione was so surprised by his sudden appearance she actually took a step backward physically wincing away from her old acquaintance. As soon as she realized it she felt slightly ashamed of herself for her reaction.

"Viktor!" Hermione squeaked, "It's…it's good to see you!" She tried desperately to recover by moving forward and giving him a loose embrace. Viktor responded by grasping Hermione's waist with both hands and kissing both cheeks. Hermione reddened instantly.

"I vish ve could haff met again under better circumstances but I am glad to see you again just the same," he said as he reluctantly released her. His doleful gaze fell on Harry who was standing slightly back from them. Viktor thrust a hand toward him.

"Harry Potter," Viktor attempted his version of a smile as he shook Harry's hand, "It is good to see you again as vell. You are spoken of as a hero in my country as is Hermiown and Ronald Veesly," his glance back toward Hermione could only be described as hungry. It made Harry a bit uneasy but he forced himself to smile.

"Erm…thanks Viktor but really," Harry replied, "we just did what had to be done and we certainly couldn't have done it alone."

Viktor gave him a stiff nod.

"Vere is your red-haired companion?" He asked that more of Hermione than Harry.

Hermione just grimaced and shrugged looking a bit embarrassed and distant for a moment, "I'm not really sure," she mumbled but then recovered some semblance of a hollow smile.

Viktor's expression seemed to change from grave reflection to a barely veiled look of wonton desire. Just then an inhumanly beautiful blond girl sidled up next to Viktor's side slipping her arm possessively into his. Viktor seem to stiffen and Hermione's eyebrows seem to disappear into her bangs.

Viktor glanced at the girl with what could only be described as a look of annoyance.

"Hermiown," Viktor said a bit darkly, "I vould like to introduce Evanova Getrenovich. She is…"

The girl interrupted Viktor and held out a limp hand to Hermione…

"I am Viktor's fiancée," she smiled a rather deviously, "Ve are to be married in zee spring."

Harry watched as Hermione's appearance of slightly uncomfortable but pleasant surprise shift almost imperceptibly to the look of vapid, cold indifference in the blink of an eye. There were very few who could have even recognized the change in her demeanor but Harry had known her far too long not to recognize those subtle shifts in her moods.

As he stood there watching the rather uncomfortable exchange Viktor's comment about Hermione looking different suddenly struck him.

Hermione had changed. She seemed a bit taller than he realized. Her hair now hung to her lower back and was much less frizzy than it always seemed to be. It was a mane of shiny, controlled curls and waves that spilled over her shoulders framing her lovely features.

The girlish smattering of light freckles that crossed the bridge of her tiny nose seemed to be gone now and the juvenile slope of her shoulders was replaced by the squared look of maturity and strength.

She wore a hint of what he thought was makeup. He had seen his Aunt Petunia apply gobs of the stuff on her face. It sometime made his hideous Aunt look more like a clown but not on Hermione. She looked…older…more mature than he could remember ever seeing her. The close fit of her clothes accentuated aspects of her form he had never recalled seeing before that moment.

For the first time in his memory he looked at Hermione Granger not as the brilliant, bossy little Muggle-born witch who had been by his side for the past eight years…she was a woman…and despite her rather poor physical condition at the moment…she was beautiful!

When he had snapped out of his reverie he realized Viktor had leaned in close to Hermione once again, clasping both her hands in his and kissed her on both cheeks again. He then gave Harry another stiff nod, looped his arm back into his fiancée's, turned and left without a backward glance.

Harry kept his eyes on Hermione's face as she watched the two walk away. Her face was a mask of indifference but her brown eyes could not hide the whirling storm of emotions that raged behind them. For just a brief moment more he watched as what he thought could have been outrage or betrayal or maybe even a hint of jealousy flash across her eyes but in the next moment it was as if she had come to a decisive internal conclusion. In a blink all emotions were gone and there was nothing left but a complete sense of emptiness.

It was that more than anything that shocked Harry and a cold chill ran down his spine. There was no despair or sadness or even anger any longer…there was just nothing!

He wanted to say something to her. He wanted to reassure her of…of what? Hermione turned toward him and they continued on moving almost mechanically. She acted as if nothing had happened as they found their seats for the ceremony and settled in.

As the ceremony began Hermione spotted Ginny seated with her mother, Dean Thomas was on her other side and Seamus Finnegan sat beside Dean. She thought it rather curious the youngest Weasley seemed to have little interest in Harry at all. She would steel a glance back at him every so often and the look on her face seemed to be one of sadness. It left Hermione with more questions than answers.

Between speakers Hermione finally plucked up enough courage and asked him.

"Harry," she whispered, "are you and Ginny at odds or something?"

Harry suddenly looked as if he had been punched in the chest to get his attention.

"No," his brows pinched together but then when he glanced at the back of the redhead he seemed to blush, "truth is I haven't seen her since we left Hogwarts. I just figured with everything that's been going on with Fred, her dad's new post and…" he was about to say Ron's foray into the boundaries of complete stupidity but refrained, "she's just needed time to sort it all out…I guess."

Hermione just looked at him with that empty, blank expression again but said nothing more about it. She simply didn't have the energy to consider it further at the moment.

Many Ministry people and a few members from the Order stood up and spoke on the behalf of Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and her father Ted. Mr. Weasley, acting in the capacity of Minister for Magic was the final speaker. When he had finished with a tearful and heart felt speech he then posthumously awarded Dora and Remus the Order of Merlin First Class and Ted received the Order Second Class.

After the ceremony concluded Hermione was out of her seat and making her way toward the exit before Harry even realized she had got up.

He managed to catch up to her just as Molly stepped in their path.

"Oh Harry dear," she blustered slightly, "How are you and Hermione…" The Weasley matriarch looked Hermione over with appraising concern at her physical condition.

Harry could tell Hermione was forcing herself to remain calm. He could also tell she had little patience for any further confrontations at the moment.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry smiled.

"Harry I just wanted to thank you for your invitation to stay at Grimmuald Place dear. It was ever so kind of you but we simply felt you needed some peace and quiet without all of us blustering about…"

"That's ridiculous Mrs. Weasley," Harry winced a bit uncomfortably, "After all you've done for me over the years it was the very least I could do."

"That's so very thoughtful of you," and with a sniffle she pulled Harry into a bone crushing hug. Then she turned her attention to Hermione who seemed to go completely rigid when Molly wrapped the surprised girl in her ample arms, "I'm so very sorry dear."

She had whispered those words in Hermione's ear and she wasn't sure why but after thinking about it for a moment Molly seemed to be apologizing for her wayward son's behavior.

Hermione simply patted Molly's back unable to come up with an appropriate response.

What the hell am I supposed to say…`That's all right Mrs. Weasley. Everyone knows Ron is a selfish, brainless twit!' or `I'm sure he didn't mean to be completely insensitive…'

Hermione suddenly wanted to be anywhere but where she was.

The next to approach them was Headmistress McGonagall a Kingsley Shacklebolt. Hermione thanked Kingsley again for adding her name to the list but he just waved it off. She also told him she would have the new list shortly. She was headed to her parent's office to start working on it and she hoped to have it finished before Fred's service so she would give it to him then. Kingsley simply nodded.

She asked Minerva how the procedure was coming, as she glanced at a bewildered Harry. The old Professor said things were progressing as planned but no new information was forthcoming. They left things at that and Hermione continued on through the milling throng.

Harry had been lost through the whole conversation but he was intelligent enough to realize his earlier concern that things were not as they seemed was spot on. He caught Hermione gently by the arm and urged her to stop.

"Hermione I know something's wrong," He asked as undemanding as he could, "Please talk to me."

Hermione looked back at him over her shoulder. The look of utter sadness was back in her eyes once more. He could see her big brown eyes swimming.

"It's just something I need to deal with alone Harry and truly don't have the time or the patience to go into it all right now. Please try and understand."

As soon as she had said those things she regretted it. She knew her words would sting him harshly but she simply didn't have the strength to explain. The look on Harry's face told her everything. He looked as if she had slapped him across the face.

Harry got a bit angry then.

"You know," he said trying to keep his temper, "I remember telling that very same thing to my best friends once and you know what they told me?" he didn't wait for her to respond, "They told me I didn't have to fight that bloody war by myself and they were going with me…like it or not." He took a deep breath and looked at his shoes, "And you know what," he sighed, "they were right."

She couldn't handle any more right now. She felt the edges of her self control crumbling.

"Look, Harry," she said miserably, "This isn't the same. I have to go. I'll see you at the Burrow."

She pulled slowly from his grasp and made her way through the exit without looking back. She could not see the look in his eyes without falling to pieces but she told herself it was for the best right now. She needed to stay focused on her tasks ahead. As soon as she had cleared the protection wards she disappeared.

Harry stood there utterly confused. Even though he was surrounded by dozens of people he knew, he felt utterly alone. It was that same emptiness he had felt standing in the hallway at Hogwarts when Hermione and Ron left to go to St. Mungo's.

His best friends…the two people who knew him better than anyone else in the world had gone their separate ways, each with their own troubles to cope with and Harry felt utterly unneeded.

As he stood there trying to figure out a way to get Hermione to let him into her troubled life he felt a tiny warm hand slide into his and entwine their fingers.

He knew that hand instantly because he had felt it many times before. He closed his eyes and hoped this was a sign of what he had hoped for, for months.

She stepped beside him but stayed just out of his field of vision for some reason. He felt her press her cheek against his shoulder.

"Hi Harry," Ginny whispered softly, "I know you're probably wondering why I haven't been around. I owe you an explanation and I have every intention to talk to you but you must understand. Things have been a bit crazy for me lately and…well…" she paused as if choosing her words carefully, "Right now mum wants to take me to Diagon Alley to get some new clothes before the shops close. I lost almost everything in the fire and we simply haven't had the time to go. I promise I will tell you everything after Fred's funeral tonight…I promise Harry." She squeezed his hand before he felt it slide from his grasp.

Harry could do nothing more than nod. He felt his stomach roll uncomfortably. He, himself suddenly wanted to be somewhere else at the moment.

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