Unofficial Portkey Archive

Life and Times

Rating: R

Ship: HHr (main emphasis)

The (unlovely) procedure: all rights go to JKR for previous plot and characters, Scholastic, Warner, and whoever else has their hands in HP.

Author Note: I've decided to treat these "chapters" like "episodes". What I mean is: The first fifteen or so chapters were centered on Harry to a certain stage (my `First Season') and now we're currently in Hermione's part of the story (my `Second Season'). Makes it easier to write, visualizing like so. This chapter is 1. In response to the proposal and what unfolded after, 2. Hermione's direction, and 3. a bridge into the next. Also - wow - almost 30,000 hits total for my fic! That's rather cool, especially for this being my first public endeavor.

***

Chapter Seventeen - Ambition

***

Emilie Granger, bubbles up to her forearms, splashed a bit of the water on the surrounding counter as she picked a plate out of the sink and rinsed off the suds. She handed the plate to me, wiping her cheek along her plum shirt clad on her shoulder. She had rolled up her sleeves, like I did, to her elbows in earnest not to completely soak herself while washing after dinner. The two-panel window in front of us fed off the misty, cool air. The day grew warmer than the past few, the snow melting from the increase in temperature.

With a brand new ivory dish rag, I left the plate spotless in my fingertips and set the ceramic in the cupboard. Traipsing on back to my mummy as if I were twelve again, I shuffled right back against her and took yet another plate in my hands.

"That was an excellent ham and spinach casserole, mum," a grin creased my lips as I mimicked the one across my mother's. "I wish I could showcase the brilliant cooking you've taught me to Harry, but he runs me off whenever I get close to the stove."

Emilie chuckled, "It's nice to hear he takes care of you as always. But, he seemed a little tense tonight…"

Mum took another plate and submerged its essence within the cooling aqua.

She narrowed her eyes when she glanced at me from the side, "Both of you did."

My eyes went wide at her statement. I had to look away. I knew exactly why Harry acted tense. Why I acted withdrawn. Harry had asked to come over to my parent's to ask them, especially daddy as to how forthcoming he is about me, for a blessing. He expressed to me how he wished he'd done it prior to asking me for my hand; but, he couldn't get the Hogwarts Express to come any later. They needed the train back at Hogwarts the sooner the better for maintenance purposes.

I hid the ring from sight in my pocket. Not that I did not think daddy or mum would approve of Harry, for he was already like their "son" and they treated him so, but I did not want to give my parents a heart attack if for some wild reason they did not approve. I could feel the ring whenever I moved; the hard platinum fighting against the tight attire. I'd even brush my hand against it, like I'd done throughout dinner under the table. I smiled when I felt of it and would grin at Harry.

He knew what I was doing, his hand holding the immobile twin. He wouldn't respond, though; completely caught up in my father's story of how he conceived the Ford mustang out in the garage. The mustang had a past. My daddy took mum on their first date back in secondary school. She was sixteen and he was eighteen. They met during study hall in the library. He fancied her-a lot-thought she was the "bee's knees" or whatever out-dated euphemism my father said which would make me laugh. My mother was terribly shy and would run away from my father any chance he took. She didn't think she was good enough for a…"stud-muffin" like him. Haha… One day my father got the gusto and pretty much cornered mum on a rainy Thursday to ask for her name. Scared the living daylights out of her, but she wouldn't have had the ending any other way. The time wasn't fun for my father, what with having to deal with Emilie and her group of girlfriends gathered around to protect her.

Harry laughed at that part. He recollected experiences with the Yule Ball and how "every girl had their own knit group waiting to pounce on any guy who came close" and it was like "going out of the trenches and into the War". He squeezed my hand when he spoke about the Yule Ball. He did not like how he treated me that night. I'd told him lots of times to let it go, but he still felt ashamed after leaving me to cry after Ron spat at me on the stairs.

Daddy took Harry out to the garage after dinner. They were discussing cylinders, and fuel gages, the speed and whatever else the innards of the car had to offer. I waved at him as he followed my father outside, grinning, as I helped my mom remove the excess from the table. He was rigid, like my mother had noticed, and I think he tried to smile, but his mind multitasked. He had to have been going over the idea of giving the news to my family. I wished he wouldn't worry so much…but, it's natural. I mean, if I was in his shoes, I'd probably have gotten sick with worry. I knew my parents, and I just knew they would not disallow Harry to marry me.

"Is Harry all right, Cupcake?"

"What?" Putting plate-on-plate in the cupboard, a clank echoed from the wooden, antique-looking walls. Coming back over, I raised an eyebrow at mum. Okay, maybe I did have more thoughts running through my mind about the delivery. "Oh… Oh, yeah. Yeah, he's just been under the weather."

"Aw…," Emilie flipped the faucet off and retrieved a paper towel from the roll adjoined to the wall. She dried her hands off after handing me the last of the utensils in the sink and unplugged the stopper to let the water out. I was placing the utensils in the tray to set when I glanced over at my mother who moved to the refrigerator.

She opened the door and leaned in. I heard her rummaging around in the door itself. When she came up, she held a greenish-coloured bottle up with a blue label. "Here, tell him to take this before bed. Clears your father quick when he has a cold."

I smiled at mummy's gesture and took the chilled bottle in my hand when she gave it to me. "Aw… Thanks mummy…"

I wrapped around and gave her the biggest hug.

She ran her hand down my back gently, her head above my shoulder and spoke into my ear, "I'm so glad to see you doing so much better than you were a few months ago. I love you, my Cupcake."

I sniffed. My mum and dad knew how to pull at my heart strings, "Mom… Don't let me cry!"

She patted my back, "I'm just so proud of you!" I felt her stroke my hair as we released our embrace.

"Oh," exclaimed Emilie, slipping around me to get at a silver tray with similar silver saucers and cups. "Here comes your father and Harry from the garage. Be a dear and grab the buttered bread?"

"Yes, mummy," Emilie had cut a fresh loaf of bread into slices and had smoothed a pad of yellow butter on the brown of the wheat. Mummy enjoyed baking her own bread. She thought it tasted better than the store-bought kind. She arranged the slices so one fell onto the next, fallen domino-style, in the middle of a small, white platter with painted flowers decorating the edges.

Before I followed her into the den, I took a look outside to see Harry and my father talking together. Harry had his hands in his jean pockets and was smiling at something daddy was going over with enthusiasm. Frederick used his hands a lot when getting excited about a subject he enjoyed, and daddy was really using his body language today. They didn't see me, but peeking into the bond my daddy and Harry created made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I felt the coming together of my intimate family.

I walked into the foyer just as Harry and Frederick entered. Daddy shut the door to keep the cool breeze from getting into the house.

"That there is one of the first models they made with a V8 engine," Frederick stated with a smile and fervor, proud of his "second baby". "The newer models don't even compete with that one."

Daddy saw me standing at the entrance of the den, "Baby girl."

I smiled at him, and then at Harry, "How was it you two? Get your testosterone out?"

Daddy laughed and messed up my hair when he passed on by. I gave a huff as I'd tried to get that strand out of my eyes only to have it fall back over my left. Frederick met Emilie, coming back towards me in the arch. He kissed my mother, their hands folding as one. My parents were very close as a married couple. I mean, extremely close. Their friends were jealous-close. They always held hands, or wrapped around each other while they sat or stood, always having to touch and connect on a sensatory level. I always wanted a man like that, to be in a relationship so overwhelmingly in love that we could not resist touching…and, I'm oh-so-glad to have found Harry who wanted the same.

Harry felt of me, placing his hand on my lower back and took the platter of bread. He snuck in a kiss, dropping down a wooden step into the den. When we released, I could see just how distraught he'd become. I could even see tiny beads of sweat on his brow even though the environment was coat-weather. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple prodding with stress, and I poked him.

He became alarmed and I apologized for spooking him, "Sorry… But relax!"

"I've never done this before!" he said back at me in whisper.

"I'd hope not…," I smirked, making him grin.

"What if they don't want you to be engaged to me? What if I screw up with your folks, `Mione? I really like them!"

I embraced him along the middle as we made our way around the sofa. Harry sat down the platter of bread on the coffee table beside the silver tea-tray, and then he sat down. I fell with him on the sofa cushions and pulled my torn jean leggings up with me, side-sitting whilst lying on his side. I glanced over and saw mummy having sat similarly, but switched on the opposite sofa.

Coincidence?

I smiled and felt Harry's arm wrap around me. He pulled me closer to him, my right arm going behind him and my left hand held at his midsection. The sound of us lifting and sitting on the cushions, amongst the crackle of the fire, was all that was heard for the first few minutes. We poured our tea, took up Emilie's wonderful butter bread on napkins, and ate together. Mum broke the silence with small talk, asking us about Molly and Arthur Weasley of all people. Not that we had anything against them, it's just we hadn't really spoke since I broke from Ron.

Maybe they didn't like me anymore? I knew they loved Harry, but maybe I "tainted" him in their eyes. My parents adored the Weasley's; except Ron, of course. My father would have liked to have had a little man-to-man chat with him. But, he was still being observed the last Ginny let out awkwardly one day. The Weasley chatter ended when my father finally spoke out:

"Okay, okay, something's up you two. Spit it out."

"What do you mean, daddy?" I knew what he meant, but played innocent. My parents were utterly perceptive of people's behaviors and me and Harry's weren't acting normal.

"Harry here looks like he's about to throw up," Frederick motioned with his hand in the direction of Harry. I glanced at Harry who gulped and half-grinned when being pointed out. Daddy then pointed at me, "And you, baby girl, have been too quiet to your old people. So, something's on your minds. Come with it. We're all family here."

"Just no stories of babies!" Emilie wagged her finger at both of us.

Harry lightly chuckled, and I said in strain, rolling my eyes, "Moooom…"

"Oh, wait! Speaking of babies…," Emilie played as if she were to get up. "Your baby book! I forgot to show Harry the picture of you in the tub!"

"Mother!"

Emilie doubled over into Frederick, "Haha… One day, Cupcake…"

"No wonder why I'm so twisted…"

Daddy smirked at me, "Okay, so now let's let the elephant out of the room, shall we? Tell us what's up."

I felt and heard Harry swallow, and I bet my folks heard him too. "Well…"

"Come on, Harry love. We won't bite you," Emilie shifted sideways to get comfortable.

Harry suddenly sat up, his back straight and more formal than he'd ever been. Even the way he spoke sounded more businesslike than ever before. I felt his breathing increase in pacing. I thought he might pass out before he got his words together and began rubbing his back. I looked over at my parent's to see them eye each other, and then me.

"Maybe you should drink some of your tea, Harry?" urged my mother.

Harry sighed into a laugh, "You know, it's funny how I can speak to a crowd of people, but in front of you two it's different, especially with what I'm going to say."

"Out with it, boy," I could tell my father worried. I think he began to think Harry really had impregnated me. Not that that could happen because of my birth control pills, but I didn't voluntarily discuss our sex life with my folks. So, they weren't in the know, making the scene that more intense. I pushed on Harry to make him say it before my father exploded in outrage.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger," Harry cleared his throat. I continued to give my support with the affectionate stroking of his back. "…I've asked your daughter for her hand in marriage."

Silence filled the room.

If the silence were water, we'd all have drowned.

I fidgeted and watched the eyes of my parent's fixate on Harry. I think they stopped breathing. They didn't blink. Like two statues, both sat completely still as stone.

"…And, what did my daughter say in return?" asked Frederick, becoming businesslike as Harry had done.

I fought with my jeans. My hand struggled with intensity into the pocket. Of all the times, I wish I hadn't put on one of my skinny pairs. I had to sit up on my feet and wiggle inside, making a scene that caught the attention of both my mother and father. I let out a sigh when my nails grasped the circular object of desire and carefully pulled it from the bleached denim. The platinum glittered off the flames in the fireplace, the diamonds shining with purples and blues from the flickering light.

I slipped the ring on my finger and looked on at the stares of my folks from across the coffee table. I held out my hand and smiled, saying breathlessly, "I happily accepted Harry's proposal."

I felt the cushions on my right adjust to a weight and saw, peering beside me, Harry move over and wrap an arm around me. We smiled at each other, and then the smiles faded as we gazed on at the still-stoic figures of my parents.

Silence filled the room once more. Suffocating, it was. Harry tightened his grip of me. I didn't know what the problem was-they knew how much I loved him! Why are you staring at us like this is such a foreign subject?! Mum! Daddy! Come on! All of a sudden it's like this now?! Even if you don't allow Harry, I'm going to any-

My father, at once, stood up from the sofa. He set his tea down, and Emilie, from below, gazed up at him and his shift in action.

"Son," my father said with a stern expression. He called on Harry like a drill sergeant would do to a new marine. "Stand up."

Oh dear God, are you serious?

Harry quickly got to his feet. He didn't put his hands in his pockets as much as I knew he wanted to. He fell out a stutter. My father could turn, well, fatherly in a split second if he needed to and my daddy had switched into protective mode.

"Yes, sir…?"

Frederick went around the table and stopped to face Harry. They both stood directly in front of me with a space between them just enough to witness my mother watching them, wide-eyed, too.

"Son, my daughter is a smart, intelligent young woman who knows what's good for her and I've never once questioned her judgment but one time in my life…"

Harry's fingers crawled into fists. He wasn't going to hit my father, but needed to do something with his hands, struck with nervous anxiety in front of my towering father.

I was paranoid.

"…And son," Frederick began again. "You've proven, time and time again to me how much you sincerely love my daughter."

Daddy put his hand out to Harry after a pause.

Harry just glanced down at it, not really knowing how to respond after the daddy's aggressive reaction to the proposal. I thought he was going to hit Harry for a minute there, but he had his palm out.

"…Harry," Frederick grinned. "I'd be more than happy to give you my blessing and call you my future son-in-law."

I gasped and clapped my hands over my mouth. Emilie laughed and I could see her smiling, dimples rising in her cheeks. She got up, as I had, and came around to her husband. Harry's eyes twinkled. He set his hand to my father's and daddy shook it firm. He enclosed on Harry and gave him a rousing, big bear hug. I started to cry. I didn't move after I stood, thinking if I did I'd break the moment; shatter it all like inescapably, fragile glass.

This wasn't real… But, it was real. I couldn't describe the feelings that erupted within me. I squealed on the inside and wanted to jump up and down. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream out how much I'd waited for this. How long and how hopeful I was that, someday, everything would fit perfectly into place.

Mummy came around and pushed her way in-between daddy and Harry and gave Harry a long squeeze. "Welcome to the family, dear!" Mum shook him all over the place.

"Keep protecting and loving my baby girl," Frederick went across Emilie to pat Harry on the shoulder. "Don't let me down."

"Will do, sir," Harry nodded. He turned his head towards me, with Emilie still wrapped around him, and grinned from ear-to-ear. "Will do."

***

Because Headmaster Dumbledore had taken Hogwarts Castle away from the jurisdiction of the Ministry after Dolores's lovely escapade, I didn't have to speak to a third party in order to gain transportation rights. I went directly to the Headmistress, now, who I still called "Professor". Minerva gave me special access to the Floo Network inside the castle. I didn't have to Floo or apparate into Hogsmeade and wait for any order to continue onward. Professor McGonagall allowed me to go from Number Twelve directly into the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

Prefects of Gryffindor, two kids named William and Ilene, would assist me to her office. Even though I'd written the Professor back, telling her I remembered where the office was, she thought it more professional to send people to come get me. So, when I came out of the fireplace, I saw the bright faces of the two blonde children. Well, I couldn't really say they were children, knowing they were probably two or three years younger than me.

Dressed in the colours crimson and gold, their robes hung low to the ground and brushed the floor when they walked. They greeted both me, and then Harry, with much affection. Harry, of course, caused much more of a stir within their welcoming.

"Harry Potter!" William reached out with both of his and shook Harry's. "It's an honor, sir. It's truly an honor to meet the Gryffindor hero himself!"

Harry waved his hand, "Please, just treat me like one of the guys. Don't be so formal."

Ilene gazed, star-struck with a goofy grin, "You're so handsome… The Daily Prophet doesn't do you justice!"

"Isn't that the truth," I added.

"Please," William flourished his hand toward the exit. "We mustn't keep the Headmistress waiting."

Harry bowed and motioned with his hand, "By all means, we'll follow." He took my hand in his.

"…I just can't believe I'm actually breathing the same air as Harry Potter!" exclaimed Will with absolute cheer.

Ilene stuck beside Harry like a puppy dog. I found it cute how she'd sneak in a flirt or two when I'd look around the halls. Since the War, Hogwarts had been rebuilt; though, the castle was rebuilt to keep the aesthetics of its predecessor. Magical artisans worked by wand to patch up the holes in the roof and walls. Personnel from the Ministry came in to dispose of what matter left from the conflict, whether it be debris of nature or rotting organism. More rooms were added for lectures to fit the influx of students who wanted to experience the school that the "famous Harry Potter went to". They even added auditoriums for colloquiums much to my dismay. Why couldn't they have had those when I went here?

The Daily Prophet said that there were still infestations of gigantic spiders in the attic space and an ogre in the basements-more Prophet rubbish to detour the gaining interest in Hogwarts.

The day transformed into night and all the paintings were asleep. We spoke in whispers, William leading the way with his wand and a Lumos.

Professor McGonagall thought it best not to disrupt the flow, so she suggested we come in the night. I agreed, and Harry too. What we've been through, what he's been through with the paparazzi and the fans that treated him as a god, would definitely cause mass chaos. Every single student, all thousand or so, would want his autograph or some part of him. The faculty would have loved to corral that lot back into the rooms. They already had enough dealing with delinquents outside of Harry disturbing the curriculum and the fresh rule-breakers of this millennium.

"Ickle, ickle, Potter!" Peeves shot over the top of our heads. He wagged his finger at Harry and shouted down the hallway, "Myrtle's been dying to see you…"

"Thanks for the heads up, Peeves."

"Little nuisance!" Ilene flicked her wand and a spot of light flew out towards Peeves. The magic was like a rubber bullet, to scare the victim off. "Do you know who you're speaking to?! Show some respect you pest!"

Peeves flew around the corner, but his laughter echoed off the halls, "I told her you died! Now she wants to know if you'll go on a date with her!! Ehehehee!"

"Remember running down this hallway?" I said over my shoulder to Harry who still had his hand in mine. I looked from the left, to the right, visualizing me much younger with books tumbling out of my hands. I ran from class right down to the portrait with stairs behind it, leading to the library. The Hogwarts library: my anesthesia from life.

Harry gripped my hand and put an arm around my middle. "I sure do," he whispered into my ear. "And, right down there through that portrait hole leads to the girl's lavatory…where we dueled that troll."

I sighed, finding myself the twelve year old once more. The twisting mechanism of the owl statue behind us, the screech of the dial, made me revert back to being twenty. William and Ilene had gone up to check on Minerva and were coming back down. When the owl turned back to face us, going completely three hundred sixty degrees, William's smile approached from the annex with Ilene in chase.

"All's clear, "William leapt his last step, filing beside Harry. "The Headmistress will see you whenever."

Ilene blushed and kept her eyes on Harry who sifted a hand through his hair, peering at me from the side, "Going up?"

"The nostalgia…," I kept my eyes on the owl, and the stairs that wound to the top. "I feel like I'm in a time-warp… We shouldn't be out of bed, Harry!"

"Shh…," Harry grinned, following in sneak. "Not so loud, Hermione! Someone might hear us!"

"Hurry!" I whispered in giggle. "The kitchens are this way!"

William and Ilene came running to us after we stepped on the stone stair and awaited the statue to revolve, "Wait! Please!"

About to say tonight's password, "Cockroach Clusters," I glanced at the Gryffindor's flight, the hair upon their heads bouncing by their speed.

Both kids became terribly shy and spoke in a low, unconfident voice, "May… May we have your autograph, sir?"

Harry made quick eye contact with me and turned back, smiling at the youths, "Sure, sure. Do you have a pen?"

Ilene hastily fed into her cloak and dug out a pen. She bounded, pushing William to the side, and gave Harry the tool. "Here you are, Harry!"

Harry chuckled, "Thank you. I don't see any books you're carrying with parchment, so what will I-"

Ilene promptly undid her robe and pointed at a bit of her pajama top, "Sign right here!"

I gaped. I utterly laughed and went to catch myself, my hands going over my mouth. This girl had spunk which reminded me so much of Ginny. I saw Harry turn his head around toward me and I shrugged, finding it difficult not to laugh and laugh loudly. Harry rolled his eyes at me and went forward, signing his name just below Ilene's neck, underneath her left shoulder.

"Eee!" squeaked Ilene. She quickly blew at the ink that remained, making doubly sure to have it permanent and not smudge. "The girl's won't know what hit them in the morning!"

Harry's chuckle came out again, and he pivoted to William who held out his wand, "Sir, my wand please?"

"Wow," Harry studied the William's wand which was given to him. "This is an honor. I've never signed a wand before."

"No, no," William fidgeted, watching his idol marvel over his wand. "The honor is all mine."

Harry squatted down and placed the wand on his knee. Carefully, he drew his signature in black near the centre. He lightly blew on the wand and handed the piece of birch wood back to William. William accepted it back, staring, as if he had just received the coveted Holy Grail. "Thank you… Thank you, sir!"

"Not a problem, Harry handed the pen back to Ilene who took it up to her face. I think she would have smelled of it if we weren't standing there. She dropped the pen in the pocket of her cloak and grinned on dreamily at Harry.

Harry stepped back with me and immediately found my hand, lacing his fingers to the slight webbing. I held onto him loosely, and announced the password. He waved at the two teenagers lingering as we curled northward. I snickered through the twisting staircase and Harry glanced at me from the side.

"What?" he asked

I eyed him from the corner of my eye, "I think she fancied you just a little."

"You think?" Harry laughed. "It's scary. I don't know these people and they come at me. I thought she was going to ask me to sign her knickers."

I put my hand over my lips and looked at Harry. I smiled, "Well, I think you made their day. It was sweet."

I swung our arms, our hands together.

"You think so?"

I nodded, "I know so." I tippy-toed and kissed him gently.

***

"Why, Albus!" The wise woman announced over her crystal-clear spectacles. "You're quite the lively one tonight!"

Swirling in my seat, I saw Harry standing underneath the portrait of Headmaster Dumbledore. They'd been talking, laughing, going on about me and how he proposed, and what he'd been up to since he left Hogwarts. It's not like you can send a portrait a letter-well, you can-but, Harry brought him to speed with the current events. Dumbledore thought it was the best thing that could have ever happened to Harry. He winked at me when I strolled by after entering, and I waved at him with a smirk.

He was perceptive to the atmosphere. No one needed to tell Dumbledore that I was Harry's or Harry was mine.

The Professor leaned in close to me from across the table, "I'll cut from the business part of our discussion and move on because, as you should already know, you've already got the position, Miss Granger…" She smiled, the wrinkles in her cheeks showing her age.

I grinned and lowered my voice, "Yes, but what about the `other thing', Professor?"

"Whatever you need, my dear, I'll have it arranged for you," Minerva took up a goblet of pumpkin juice and held it to her lips. "Though, I still press the subject of you teaching here at Hogwarts. We'd be more than happy to have you. I'd be happy to have you. The Defense professor has to leave next year to go on a…traveling trip and that spot will be open."

I shook my head, "Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, Professor. But, I'd rather…you know…" I couldn't tell her "No".

Minerva nodded and set her goblet down. Fawkes, from within his bronze cage, nipped at the bars and stretched its wings. "We all have the paths in which we take. I only give you an alternative if you ever feel the need or want to teach here. By all means, please, seek me if I'm still around."

"Professor," I grew solemn. "Don't speak of the sort! You'll be around!"

"I can't promise anything," the elder Headmistress sat back in her plush, ornate chair. "Every day is an adventure, is it not?"

"I guess so…"

"Speaking of adventures…" Minerva held up the Daily Prophet. I covered my eyes. The Professor laughed, disturbing a painting close to her chair, "I see Rita's at it again."

I peeked through my fingers to see the looping photograph of me, clutching Harry for dear life, while he grabbed and threw a reporter onto the floor. Then another, smaller, photograph had a close-up of me as I looked and then retreated from the flash of light. The headline above the larger photograph read:

POTTER: ALL HE'S CRACKED UP TO BE OR JUST CRACKED?

The headline below my lovely photo read:

GRANGER VERSUS WEASLEY - WHO'S HOTTER, POTTER?

"Ohh…," I hid my eyes again and groaned. "Don't remind me."

I heard the paper rattle and Minerva open it to the second page, "She even describes you girls looking like a `warty, horned toad' and Ginevra resembling a…'disheveled, run-of-the-lot donkey'. Such a wonderful woman…"

Minerva chuckled to herself, closing the paper and folding it in two, "Might I add, Miss Granger, that if this is true then you and Miss Weasley are a beautiful toad and a beautiful donkey."

I smirked and pulled a leg up to my chest, my Converse shoe revealed against the black, ripped-denim of my knee. "Well, I always thought I'd be kissed by Prince Charming." I pointed to Harry behind me, still talking away with Dumbledore, with my thumb.

Minerva smiled and gave me a look-over. I gazed at her across the table with the one-eye exposure. She stated simply, "And another addition, I think your outfit is adorable. Definitely a change from the old Hogwarts skirt and tights."

I glanced down at the black silk tie around my neck, the fat of the tie draped around my waist. I pulled it out and lay it straight down the centre of my body, the thread by my throat loose, the knot near my chest. The tie contrasted against my white collared shirt, unbuttoned a few buttons at the top and my ever-so-pale skin paralleling the hue of the upper apparel.

"Thank you," I said, glancing back at Minerva who still looked me over. "I like my style… Not that I didn't like the skirt and tights."

The Headmistress set her hands together on her lap, "So, tell me, why Oxford? What's there that's gotten your fancy?"

I was thankful the Professor played it cool and soft… Harry hadn't known my thoughts yet, and he was ranting on with Dumbledore oblivious to our discussion at the table. "Well… I'd like to pursue music. They have an excellent musical academy there."

"Ah," Minerva peered at me curiously and a mischievous grin crept on her lips. "You know, Miss Granger, that Hogwarts has a superb chorus?"

"Professor… You're going to have me feel guilty!"

Minerva chuckled into a cough and quickly covered her mouth with her fist, "I'm sorry dear, but I like to keep the flock near me. Call it…a security blanket. You just have so much potential that-"

I blinked. I hoped she wasn't about to say what I thought she was, and when she knew or read my mind, the Professor quickly averted her sentence into, "The potential to do anything your little heart desires. You've always had a will to surpass others, Hermione, and I know whatever you do in life you'll do your very best and own your outcome, the reward for being persistent. I only hope that I'll be the first to have a signed copy of your album."

I crossed my fingers, "Knock on wood." I tapped the desk with my knuckle.

"I'm still going to send you invite after invite on joining us at Hogwarts every brand new year," she flattened out a crease in her blue robes with glittering, silver stars.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," I replied, giving her a wink.

"And, Harry," Minerva shouted over Dumbledore's laughter and Harry's snickering. "Professor Hooch will be retiring from Hogwarts and I'm sure she'll need an apprentice to fill her place in a few years. You seem to be quite capable with a broom if I remember correctly."

I turned around, my arm and hand on the top of the chair to see Harry comb through his hair and sigh at the Professor's constant questioning, "I'll think about it, Professor. Can't promise you anything."

"Think about it, Harry," Minerva's eyes shined in the torchlight when I went back to meet her gaze. She grinned at me and took up the goblet of pumpkin juice. She asked, her free hand lying palm up, "I've wanted a closer look at the infamous ring since you came in, Hermione. May I?"

"Of course, Professor," I straightened up and lay my left hand on hers, the three-studded diamond and platinum band glowing much like the Professor's eyes. She gently took my hand and rotated my fingers, examining the ring. She beamed at me with utmost delight.

"I just knew that, one of these days, he was going to pop the question. You two were like those rare stuck-together chocolate frogs, you were," I laughed at her analogy. "A surprise every time I'd catch you two doing something you weren't supposed to!"

***

"Three cheers for `Mione and Harry!"

"Is she drunk already?" Harry was on my right and he leaned in beside me to yell over the volume of sports goers in the pub. Ginny had wanted to go the Three Broomsticks to celebrate, but I coaxed the negative. After what had happened during my proposal, we weren't going through something like that again.

"Dear, maybe you've had-" Neville, who was on the left of Ginny, went to take the pint of beer away from her, but Ginny quickly moved it from reach. The beer and its foam sloshed from the mug, spilling some on me and Harry, but most of it got on the bar.

"NO!" Ginny smacked Neville's arm. "No! No! NO!"

"All right, kids," the bartender came over with a rag and wiped the liquid and smell of alcohol from the countertop. I found a napkin and was dabbing the spots on my shirt while Harry did the same. "That's the second time."

"We apologize, sir," I stated, concerned that we'd be kicked out the next time. Three strikes and you're out. Though, maybe it wouldn't be so bad with Ginny completely smashed. "It won't happen again."

"God! Neville!" Ginny smacked him again. Then, she took up my hand and examined the engagement ring for the fiftieth time tonight. "Why couldn't you have splurged a little more?! This is like a fucking island!"

"Congratulations on your new job, Hermione," smiled Neville warmly. "And congrats again guys for getting engaged. It was just a matter of time, eh, man?"

Neville slipped around me and Gin to shake Harry's shoulder roughly. Harry made a laugh, "Yeah, well… You'd know, wouldn't you?"

"What? Was there some sort of secret man-meeting about the proposal?"

Neville studied me and winked, sipping his beer, "Harry, the ol' chap, thought it was too corny to propose in front of the Hogwarts Express."

"It was either there or… Hm, the Malfoy manor?"

Snickering, I gave Harry a bump with my hip, "I'm glad you decided the other."

"What? No Happy Christmas cards for the Malfoy's this year, Hermione?" Neville patted my shoulder and swirled on his barstool.

"Yeah… No." I could just see the front of the envelope. Instead of `Return to Sender,' it would read, `Return to Mudblood'. I shook my head. "I don't think so. I'll pass on the ridicule."

Ginny hiccupped and became rather flush in the cheeks. I found her arms wrapped around me with her head on my shoulder. She sighed and said dizzily, "Mi-Miiiii… I love you…"

I put my hand atop her head and gently gave her a pat, "And, I love you too, Gin."

"Screw these guys! Let's go have some fun on our own!"

"Okay, enough is enough Gin," Neville had glanced between Harry and me, and then went to grab her pint. Ginny pushed Neville away and came back around me.

"Have you told Harry about Oxford?!"

"Ginny!!"

"Oxford?" Harry slowly set his mug of beer down to the countertop. He surveyed me curiously, and all I could do was sheepishly smile. I scolded Ginny, "Ginny! You-"

"Ohh…," Ginny retreated from me, her arms and hands on her stomach. She clenched her teeth and let out a seethe of pain. "Ohh… I think I'm going to be sick…"

Immediately, she put her hand over her mouth, her cheeks bloating and ran for the girl's lavatory.

"Damn it! I told her to slow down!" Tossing his frothy mug of beer down, Neville shot out after her, leaving me alone with Harry.

After watching our friends jolt to the bathroom, Harry turned back to me and cocked a brow, "Oxford? …Want to explain what she meant?"

"Look," we were back in Number Twelve. We took Ginny and Neville home, Ginny ferociously ill from her four beers. All the way home, I tried to explain myself. Harry didn't yell or scream; he really didn't form any sort of emotion, just calmly asking questions which infuriated me. I was ready for him, for some reason, to start attacking me-and he didn't! Rah! I don't know why, but I had put up a defense barrier and waited for him to denounce my dream.

"I just didn't want to pile everything on you at once," I sat on the edge of the bed and unlaced one shoe and then the next. The rationalization of Harry being a gentleman and my awkward, emotional rollercoaster left me annoyed. Why couldn't you just yell at me for thinking nonsense and get it over with? "I just got out of the hospital, you nearly got sick after our trips to St. Mungo's, I got a job tutoring at Hogwarts-and all the while you made claims about how you wanted me around more!"

Harry came from the master lavatory and stayed near the door. He pulled his jumper off, exposing bare skin and hair underneath. He shifted his hands through his messy hair, to make the chaos even more of a mess and fixed his glasses.

"One thing is for sure," he tossed his sweater in the hamper as he walked towards me. "I do want you near me as much as possible. But, I want to make it clear, Hermione-"

He made it to the edge of the bed and began taking his own shoes off. I knew it. Here we go-finally! Scream at me! Come on, let it out! Switching positions, I elevated and went over to the mirror and began pulling away my clothes, starting with the buttons on my shirt. My expression went poker face and I stiffened, readying to pounce back when he inflamed.

"I will never not allow you to do something," I heard one shoe drop to the floor and then the next. He spoke with care. "If you wanted to go to Oxford, or wanted to teach at Hogwarts, or wanted to do this or that, I'd support you one hundred percent. I'd had hoped you knew that much about me by now."

"I know… I just…," I became dumbfounded. I couldn't make heads nor tails, neither up nor down seemed right. I was confused. I pulled the shirt angrily off my shoulders and slipped a wire hanger through the sleeves. I stomped over to the hamper and put it on a hook. Combing through my hair and letting it fall in disarray, I glanced over at Harry who stared at me bedside. He remained sincere…and, I couldn't look at him and merely went back over to the mirror in haste. "I'm just stupid. I'm sorry! I'm moronic, an imbecile, a nutter. I'm sorry!"

I sniffled, a blackened tear trickling down my cheek from my mascara. Conflicting terms and rules from my past came into conflict, slamming head-on like trains without the ability to break. I felt agoraphobia set in as if I needed Harry to tell me "No," that I "Couldn't do it". Like he needed to set down his masculinity as law. This was something I wanted to do that didn't necessarily benefit him whatsoever. A thought like that with Ron… I'd just never had an open expanse like Harry gave me. I didn't know what to do with it, and the more I thought about it, the more of a headache and heartache was created.

I made myself look busy in the mirror, pulling at the same strand of hair over and over again.

"Hermione."

I stopped a moment. I couldn't. I restrained from seeing him see me like this; but, I wanted to-badly. I needed him. I felt…violated. Violated from my past.

Gradually, I turned my head to see Harry's kind face give me a smile. He motioned me over with his finger. I stayed stationary, studying him for a moment until leaving the proximity of my psychological prison cell. Pivoting on my heel, I went to him, the soles of my naked feet padding softly on the wooden floor.

Harry opened his body for me, spreading his knees while he sat on the ledge, and took my waist and glided me into him. I stood there and watched him run his hands down my sides, over the fabric of denim on my hips and further to my thighs. His light touch over my abdomen made me retract. He tickled me slightly. Goosebumps formed. I breathed in and closed my eyes, feeling his warmth. He lowered his head and kissed the centre of my stomach. He lifted me off the floor an inch and set me closer to him, caressing each individual portion of my flat tummy.

I set my hands in his hair and merely stroked, brushing him as he made love to my tummy with his lips. He held my lower back and gently kneaded the pads of his fingertips into the muscle and bone. My fingers slipped into the niches above his ears, tracing the contours of my beloved. I felt of his neck and where the hair stopped on his head, and down to his shoulder blades. I gripped him lightly at first, and then a bit harder when he teased my navel with the tip of his tongue.

I felt Harry lay his forehead on my stomach and become still. My hands halted from their shoulder massage as I peered down at him.

He didn't look up at me when he said, burrowed into the softness of the flesh, "I love you so damn much, Hermione. I'll always be behind you, supporting you with everything I have: my body, my mind, my heart… I'll always be your number one fan."

He looked up at me from below, "That is, if you allow me to be."

In the dimly lit room of Number Twelve, with only a lamp turned low to guide me, I pushed Harry back on the bed and crawled up onto his torso. He… He made me feel… My lips were on him instantaneously, and hard. I didn't breathe, and when I did breathe, the breaths came out in moans escaping when our mouths unattached. Harry had his hands all over me, digging themselves into the back of my denim jeans to feel of me. My hands were on his chest, feeling the curve, the indent of his pectoral muscles.

My hair fell all around him. My tie got in the way and I went to remove it, sitting up, when Harry came off the bed to stop me. He held the tie anchored between my breasts and smirked. I smiled and rolled my eyes, sliding to his hips in straddle. I slipped my hands around to my backside and fiddled with the clasp. The brassiere fell to the mattress. Harry stopped, motionless as he took in my nudity.

He grinned after a while, causing a chain reaction in me to smile as well. Harry picked me up, holding me tightly to him and slid to revolve our positions. He rotated me until we flipped. My back hit the cool top of the sheets; my head hit the cool covering case of the pillow. My hand went to the headboard when he drove into me through his khaki dress pants, gasping a breath that so readily wanted out from our intermingling lips.

{Inspirations for the Chapter: Didn't listen to anything at all, really; but, if you like the Beatles, they're heavily alluded to soon!}

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