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: Some key issues that have been building beneath the surface finally hit head on in this chapter. I'm interested, as always, in what you all think; but, I'm even more interested in any insights my readers have for the future of Hermione, Harry, and the rest. We still have quite a few hurdles to leap over, and with curtains rising on new, confusing ideas for the characters, who knows what will happen next? I'm sure this chapter will spark more controversy. Enjoy!

***

Chapter Twenty - Muddle

***

Just like Doctor Stone and Doctor Stevens wanted, I took up exercising. Not like I hadn't done any before. Mainly, I'd do yoga. Yes-yoga. Yoga is simple, fun, and really can get those kinks out of your back and neck from the night. I really enjoyed doing my warm-ups in the morning, right out of bed. Harry really enjoyed watching me-really enjoying it.

He'd come out of the lavatory, or from downstairs, and I'd be tangled in the sheets performing on the mattress. He called it "performing," which I laughed and the term caught on. So, I would perform, stretching my arms and legs, my back. I'd breathe gently in at first, finding that peace within my mind: a field of flowers on a sunny day, the smell of rich, warm baked bread, or the engrossing literature I'd been reading the night before. I'd let myself go until Harry became touchy-feely. Then, my breathing would increase in pace and I'd fall down on the bed in smiles.

He could do that to me.

One time I was doing my routine completely out of the realm of reality. My mind was between leaving sleep and that special spot I'd thought of to relax. I let slip one foot over the opposite leg and stretched to the side, and then slowly moved over and did the same with the other, really working to pop my lower back. Harry came from the lavatory, having showered, and leaned on the frame of the door. He stood there with a smile and watched me as I slipped both my arms, interlacing my fingers together, and stretched to the headboard. My gray tank top fit to my measurements, so when I acted, I pulled the bottom edge straight up. He loved when I exposed myself without really exposing myself…as if this was his own private, intimate show. I found it rather sexy, too, when he'd just stare at me, wanting me, even doing small things like this to get him going.

Rotating on my stomach, I pushed off the mattress with my hands and nurtured my back once more. I heard the slight pop, felt the tension release and grinned with my eyes closed. My face declined to the pillow as I rolled my body like a worm to come back up by my hands. My head went to the side, my hair falling to the left and then to my right as I swiveled to work the kink from my neck. Harry was doing something behind me, as I could hear the padding of his feet on the wooden floor around me. Only when I hopped onto my knees and rolled my torso again towards the sheets did I see Harry bedside. His eyes were affixed, observing his lovely specimen and how her body contorted. He called me "limber," and I was-I could put my feet behind my head if I wanted to. I could also pull my thumb back to my wrist, extremely flexible with my joints.

Yoga helps.

I started doing Yoga to assist the stress within me while I was with Ron. He'd also watch me, but unlike Harry. Ron lusted after me. Harry, however, was delicate. His eyes weren't locked onto my breasts; his eyes were locked on me as a whole. Harry would touch me, feel me at times when I'd do my work-out. His hand would stroke the sloping of my back when I'd roll. His hand would slide along my tummy when I'd try and stretch the length of the bed. He'd run his hand along my thigh, my leg, when I'd raise my knee and catch it bent near my chest to rotate the pivot. His fingers lightly felt of my spandex shorts, or panties, the tank top I wore and the curves underneath. He'd run his fingers through my hair as it draped toward the bed. He'd rub the back of my head when I'd fall back and relax my form before stepping off the surface to start the day.

More often than not, he'd turn me on. Who wouldn't be turned on by someone so lovingly touching you with the intent to showcase how gentle they were of you? One time he glided just the pads of his fingers alongside the inner part of my thigh. I had my leg out-stretched to my side and I had to stop. My eyes were already closed, but I gasped a breath. He knew what he'd done to me and stopped, slowly pursuing onward to fully feel that spot upon me. His fingers went right against the crease my body created where my thigh joined my hip. Spandex fabric isn't thick at all and, well, the severely thin material might just have been my real skin. Shuddering when he came back in to feel of my other thigh, the inner portion so tenderly, I couldn't control myself any longer.

I shot right to my rear and pulled him back into bed.

My legs, arms, everything enveloped him-I wasn't letting go, and from his rigid, strong grasp of me that day, he wasn't either.

Sex helps, too.

Besides my Yoga sessions, I ran with Harry. Mind you, this was all done when I was not cut for time. Jogging with my future husband felt exhibitionist in a way. I mean, Harry openly told me he had started this because of his past; that, this was how he relieved himself of his nightmares. He'd literally and metaphorically run them out of his mind. He also told me how much he had thought about the days where he wanted me beside him, my arms around him, loving him. He became all sorts of giddy the first day I asked to jog with him in the morning. Now, it became nearly a routine whenever we both had a chance to go together.

Today, I had on those black spandex shorts Harry loved so much and a white shirt not unlike those of the 70s. My shoulder peeked out on one side and the black sports bra strap could be seen on my shoulder. I bought tennis shoes for the occasion, not thinking my Converses nor would my boots suffice kilometers of jogging. Harry wore sweat pants most of them time. Sometimes he'd have on the jeans he wore the day before. He didn't have one pair of shorts in his wardrobe unless one thinks of boxers as such.

Harry had on one of those step-trackers.

"How far did we go today?" I caught my breath beneath two flourishing downy birch trees, my hands on my hips. A breeze swished through the striking green of the leaves, the branches swaying. The breeze felt cool against the thin layer of perspiration on the uncovered portions of my legs, arms, and neck. I'd bundled my hair early this morning with a scrunchie so I didn't have to fight with it.

"Almost twenty kilometers," answered Harry, breathing easier. He was in better shape than me, that's for sure.

I keeled over, sitting down and then falling into the manufactured, cut grass. I let my limbs go wherever they wanted, my arms over my head. I peered up into the partially cloudy sky. The clouds vibrantly white against an ocean of blue. The sun rose while we jogged, and now, just a few blocks from Number Twelve, we rested in a park as we've always done. Just getting outside, taking in fresh air, listening to the birds chirp, the pond ripple and the day-to-day bustling of suburban London.

Harry dropped right down next to me. I had my eyes closed and peeked when I heard his weight hit the ground. I looked over to my right and saw him on his side, his hand propping his head up from the grass. He had set an over-sized water bottle down behind him near his hip. A few people passed by us on a sidewalk circling the perimeter of the park. My ears heard them talking around us and my immediate reflex was to look at them: two older women chattering away about their jobs. I smiled at Harry when I felt his hand go to me. I lay back down content and felt his fingers crawl their way above my heart from my abdomen.

Putting a hand to cover my eyes from the morning sun, I asked with a smirk, "Satisfactory?"

Harry leaned to me and kissed my lips, and then reached with the hand that held my heart to tap my nose, "Perfectly."

"So…," My smirk never ceasing, but grew when I saw his gorgeous, white smile encroach his lips. "Are you going to tell me what mischievous scheme you have in-store for me today?"

"Hm," Harry exaggerated a thought, over-dramatic when he put his hand to his chin and glanced at the sky. He looked back at me and said with one of those upper-class, haughty tones, "My lovely fiancee, what ever do you mean?"

I rolled my eyes.

Here we go again…

I'd been trying to get anything out of him all the while we jogged. He'd make some rhetorical question and blow me off calmly, or he'd try and direct my concentration of my question to some frivolous object, like a car. He knew what today was… He hadn't forgotten a month ago, and the month before that.

"Fine," I huffed. I crossed my arms over my chest and closed my eyes, the sun creeping in-between shadows to blind me. "I guess today doesn't mean anything to you."

His hand slithered under my shirt to feel of my tummy. I went to squirm away from him, but stopped. It was difficult to play mad when he made me feel good, his fingers lightly massaging the slight muscle under my soft texture.

I felt his breath upon my ear and knew he was smiling when he whispered, "Five beautiful months…surreal, dreamlike, loving intimacy with you…"

I opened my eyes to his words and shifted my head to gaze at him beside me. Harry lifted and hovered over my head as I guided him, having led my hand into his messy chaos and placed him on my mouth. His hand found my hand along my side and he slowly interlaced them together. Gently we kissed, our tongues lazily licking the others. We normally didn't put on such strong public displays of affection, but today-our fifth month anniversary-was an exception to our rules.

He released and roughly caressed my cheek, making my face slip a little to the left. I turned and met his mouth once more before he propped back on his hand and adjusted our interlocked hands, his right and my left, atop my tummy. He would brush the pad of his thumb against my own, and I would communicate the same as if our thumbs made love to each other. He slipped down into the crook his elbow made and eyed me at my level in the grass. I lifted and fell to my side, now facing Harry and his wonderfully brilliant jade green eyes. I was so close I could see the outline of black around the viridian color.

He lay back against the grass and I slid right to him. Cheek to his chest, I sighed and draped an arm loose around his waist. He petted me, rubbing my head as I laid there with him, listening to his own heart beat and the sounds of nature between manmade. I didn't have to be at work until one in the afternoon, so I had plenty of time to remain within our serenity.

Reaching over, I took up the water bottle and popped the top open. I drank the cold, icy aqua, nourishment for my thirsty body, and set it back down beside him. All the while, Harry observed my drink-every action, even the slightest, he loved to see. When I moved the bottle back, I resumed my lay, my head finding his chest. The beat of his heart I focused on until I felt him shake me awake.

I must have dozed, coming back to reality and the beat that rhythmically prodded me into sleep.

He went to sit on his behind, bending forward. He held me as he bent, sitting me up as well. I yawned into him and blinked, Harry's figure hiding me from the sun. I stretched, Harry going to his feet and grabbing the water bottle. He offered me a hand and I took it with a smile, getting up to brush the backside of my shorts off.

"How long was I out?" I yawned again.

"Maybe…a half hour?" he took up my hand and began leading me from our spot. He glanced back at me with a smirk, "You didn't get much sleep last night…thought I'd allow you to catch some Z's."

I laughed, coming alongside him with my hand tightly clasped to his, "Thanks, I appreciate the gesture."

He winked at me. "Not a problem," we'd come to a corner and he had to push a button to allow us to cross the street.

"You're still not going to tell me what you're up to," I leaned into him, tip-toeing on my tennis shoes. "Are you?"

He shook his head, keeping his eyes from me. He smiled, "Not a chance."

***

"How-" My eyes were wide. I was in shock. Utter and complete shock. The scene before me took my breath away.

Roses and rose petals scattered everywhere. From the entrance hallway, vines slinked and bound to the walls toward the crossroads of our kitchen and den. Petals made lines for me to follow and became splotched at random the further I walked into the home. After each step, a bud would burst into bloom, creating bunches of crimson red roses. I turned back to look at Harry who followed me with a smug grin. He had his hands in his pockets and ushered me forward with a bob of his head.

I saw the kitchen, the vines having made their way onto its walls. The moment I merely breathed my breath into the room roses burst into full blossom. I flipped around when I heard an explosion of flowers behind me to see from the den vines twist themselves into a heart-shape above the fireplace. They curled and hardened, and then like the rest, roses started to disperse to create the crimson red heart. My eyes went to Harry behind me and from behind him, more roses flourished into bloom.

I threw my arms around him, leaping. He caught me and chuckled, embracing me tight.

"I'm guessing you like the surprise?"

I fell back on the soles of my shoes. I gazed at him in silence, my heart racing and my stomach sprouting butterflies. I kissed him quickly, and then grabbed his hands. I pivoted on my heel and started up the staircase, having him follow. White candles were placed on the ornate ball-structures of the railing when the wood would bend and wrap to another floor. With my body passing, the wick on the candle would suddenly light up. From the first step to the last, vines accompanied my brisk action. With each pad of sole to stair, a dozen roses would come alive and vividly put on their display. The aroma of fresh roses sweetly filled our world with more roses joining rank every new step. At the top, the third floor, vines had chased me, halting to make more petals expose themselves to life.

I hadn't said a word to Harry, but watched his magic in amazement. He had went through so much to set this up; even I would have had difficulty trying to occupy him and transfigure and charm an actual rose garden within the enormous Number Twelve. It would have taken me weeks, maybe even months, to outright prepare for something as extravagant as this. I was overwhelmed, not so much by Harry's work, but by the time and affectionate thought put behind it. He could have gotten me chocolates and flowers, but he went far beyond with his efforts to showcase his love for me.

So, so much like Harry…

I pulled him into our bedroom and shut the door behind him. I didn't let go of him a second of our time, and really held on as I led him toward the master lavatory. Vines crept underneath the door and shot like comets across the walls. Fast they were, with blooms bursting in more heart-shapes above our bed. The flowers began to write our names in cursive together in a larger heart-shape centered just below the portrait of a hippogriff in flight at twilight.

"Where are we going?"

I turned, replying quickly with a flash of my smirk, "…We're sweaty, aren't we?"

"Doesn't that entail a shower…or two?" I added with the smirk he found so sexy.

"Or three!" Harry laughed and swiftly lifted me off the floor. His strong arms wrapped around me as my legs wrapped around him. I held onto him by the neck and giggled, my hair leaping with the force he pulled me up with. He held me to him and snogged me hard. My hands instantaneously gripped tufts of his crow's nest. I led him with all the strength I had to kiss me-and kiss me with fury-our lips matching as one. I moaned and felt him, the individual steps he'd make with one knee bending and then his other.

He moved fast, so fast I thought we'd actually apparated that couple of feet. He slammed me against the wall when I raked the tip of my tongue along the roof of his mouth. He grunted, liking what I did to him, teasing him within his mouth. He pushed into me from the front, and I couldn't take it any longer. I gripped his shirt and yanked it off him. I held my arms up when he went to get mine, throwing his to the floor. When my arms hit the cool of the wall, the vines slipped around me, conveying my body in outline. Roses shivered from their budding alongside my cheeks, blooming upward against my arms to the points of my fingertips.

My shirt to the floor, too, Harry pulled me away from the wall. I glanced with a smile when the vines had altogether followed every curve, every contour of my form to perfection. Harry kicked the lavatory door to shut behind him and I snickered at how ready Harry had become.

***

Painstakingly meticulous, I curved the wet, thin brush of black paint to encompass my eye. Wanted being the keyword. I was leaned over, looking into the mirror above my vanity and desk, giving Harry his time in the lavatory after our showers. He had to drink candied-smelling liquor, mixed and concocted by me the day before, as he wished to go out while I was at work. He tried to mix a cosmetic potion on his own, only to have it backfire-literally backfire-in his now-sooty face. I laughed, and he just shook his head and handed me the cauldron.

The black eyeliner, careful as I was, was nearly done. From my ears, I heard Harry waltz on out of the lavatory, clicking the switch off as he went into the bedroom. I saw him in my peripherals, his dark gray shirt left unbuttoned whilst a lighter gray v-neck fit to his chest. I could see his pectorals, the trace of them, extrude and struggle. My pink lips wrought into a grin at my handsome fiance, my man and his boot-cut black jeans all ripped up. His black, industrial shoes prodded rocklike on the wooden floor.

His solid boots clipped the floor as he moved on over to me. I looked at how the potion changed him, his black mess now bronze, and his eyes with a golden twinge of brown. We couldn't make the same style constantly for fear of another uproar from the wizarding world and the stalking of the paparazzi. Harry rolled his sleeves up to his elbows before he felt of my hips, my waist, holding me firm as he stepped on behind me. He touched my black, pleated skirt and inched his hands underneath the brown, yellow, and red combination plaid shirt top.

I shifted my weight from one buckled shoe to the other, the zephyr Harry created as he moved to me bringing a cool temperature to the bare skin between the ends of my knee-high black socks to the beginnings of my skirt. He tickled me, and chuckled when I went stiff and stopped painting my eyes. I glared at him through the mirror as he peeked over my head. He rubbed my sides as if to apologize for playing, and I couldn't get angry. I smiled and nudged my hips into his hands. I made a face, sticking my tongue out and crossing my eyes which made him snicker, his arms wrapping around my tummy.

I stood up into his arms. Harry's head, his chin, sat upon my shoulder as he observed me twist the brush back into my eyeliner vial. I glanced into the mirror to smile at him, my pearly whites gleaming in the subtle light sheltered by semi-transparent curtains.

"Radiant," he said, briefly kissing my exposed neck above the collar. He set his chin back and looked on again at me.

I smirked and lay back in his stance, "What are you up to today, mister?"

"Gotta go to the Ministry, play with their red-tape, and get some things situated…lovely stuff."

I made a laugh at his sarcasm, gazing into his twinkling, golden eyes.

"Can I get you anything while I'm out?"

"Are you actually willing to go to Hogsmeade?"

He shrugged and kissed my shoulder, "Say it and your wish will be fulfilled."

"I'm going to need at least three tufts of unicorn hair from the apothecary," I laid my hands, and then my arms parallel on his alongside the front of my body. My black nail polish looked odd compared to our complexions. I looked at him-us-through the reflection in the mirror, and we looked so…right. Too right, and the scene gave me goosebumps. I couldn't help but smile. "We're running low."

"Got it," he smelled of me and smiled, too. He tightened his arms around me. "You smell so…delicious…"

I lightly smacked his arm, "Down boy."

He roared at me within the mirror and lightly bit at my neck, "Rawr…"

I shook my head to the side to flick the hair over my eye backward, but of course, it never worked. Harry slipped his head behind me and kissed the top of my mine. "Ready?" he asked as I went for my bag on the desk, my charms clunking against my leather wrist cuffs.

He helped assist me, pulling the strap of my bag down against my figure. I nodded, tapping the crimson and gold button that read, "HHr" and having it jingle beneath my fingers. "Ready."

Normal couples would walk right out their front door and leave by car. Normal couples would kiss their mate at the door, or at their car door, and wish them a good day. Normal couples would wave as they drove off to their destinations. When Harry and I stood at our quadruple-in-size fireplace hole in the den, similar qualities occurred, but wholly, its own entity entirely. We did kiss after I stepped into the fireplace. Harry did wish me a good and safe day, and told me he loved me with all his heart. I did wave at him, and he at me, but that's where normalcy stopped and our other world began.

I took up the Floo powder in my hand, threw it at my feet and shouted, "Hogwarts!"

Harry's words echoed as the green fire engulfed me, swallowing me and pulling me through much like apparating. I smiled as Harry's voice continued to ring in the wormhole warp, stating over and over again, "I love you… I love you… I love you…"

***

"You really think I did good?"

I gaped. I still couldn't believe my eyes. In my hands held an unraveled parchment. Xavier had written his essay to have Professor Mackay give little error feedback. From the beginning until now, I thought he was a lost cause-well, maybe not so much the case, but a guy unwilling to stride far into his education. He was much more willing to strive with his hormones and wherever those led him, astray or not. Still, his grammar cleaned, his premise stronger, even Professor Mackay wrote with his red-inked quill, "Good job" at the top with a numerical score of seventy four.

"This is so much better than when we first met!" I read the number over and over to recognize how far Xavier had gone from just one, single "nine". "I still can't believe it!"

We were standing outside the library, beside a column holding the roof. He'd given me his work, wanting to surprise me-another male in need of giving surprises. Xavier put his arm to balance himself as he leaned into me, smiling. "Thanks for the verbal support, there, Hermione."

"Oh, I didn't mean-" I smirked and watched him smile. "What I meant was that I'm proud of how much you've accomplished. See!"

I gave his shoulder a nudge with my fist, "I told you that you could do anything if you set your mind to it! Just like with Quidditch, and I know you keep your concentration centered on the field. I heard Slytherin beat the snot out of Ravenclaw last weekend."

"Yeah," I over-inflated his ego, unfortunately. He blew on his nails and rubbed them on his chest. "That was me-winning goal. I'm awesome."

"Some advice?"

"Advice?" he looked at me confused.

"Women don't enjoy an egotistical maniac."

"Women?" He winked. "Or Hermione?"

I shook my head. He certainly laid it on thick. "Anyway," I began, and he laughed beside me. I handed him back his essay and he tucked it in his bag. "Good work, Xavier, but now I want to see you ace the next! You can do it, I know you can."

He went to smile, but his face grew solemn.

"What?" I exclaimed.

He lowered his face from above, as he was a good foot taller than me, and whispered the words, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yeah…" I whispered in reply. I didn't know what he was up to… The majority of the time he wasn't serious, so I half-expected him to pull some prank.

His gaze stayed on me, his expression poker. "You," he began. "Were the first person to really believe in me. The profs here all gang up on me, my parents don't understand the stress between Quidditch and school, and-yeah…"

Aw…

"Come here."

"Hm?"

"Come here," I ushered him with my hands, my arms open.

He looked on befuddled.

"Fine," I slipped my hands to my bag, my other hand adjusting the strap across me. "Guess you wouldn't want a hug."

"From a Muggle-born?"

My eyes affixed to him stern.

"I'm kidding…" Xavier opened his arms and embraced me before I could get around him. I felt his brawniness when he tightened and I patted his back. I went to let go and it took him a beat until he let go, all smiles with a wink. I just rolled my eyes, quite aware of his obvious flirting, and felt my back in case he put a "Stupify Me" sign on it.

"So… If I ace the next essay, I…" A wry grin crept along his lips. "Get a kiss?"

Reaching to his face, I patted his cheek as I slid on away. The bell rung for classes to let out and a tumultuous crowd came forth from the doors around us, swallowing the hallway in bodies. "You keep thinking that," I said, walking away.

Xavier rushed on alongside me whilst I dug around in my bag. Something went abuzz, vibrating on my hip from within. I glanced up at him from my one eye and squinted a little.

"Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? They've opened up a new diner. Apparently, they serve you on brooms."

"I'm flattered," Though, I shook my head. "But, no. Xavier, I'm engaged to be married to Harry. You know that-everyone bloody knows that."

I glanced at the people passing us to see them give me looks, knowing who I was, who I dated, and who I was soon going to marry. All thanks to the Prophet and they're "research" into our private affairs. They had dug up nice bits from our past at Hogwarts recently and smeared our names, especially mine, for being a… What was it this week? Oh, that's right: a "two-timing wench". Nothing like seeing a photograph of me and Ronald on the front page against one of me and Harry under the title:

A WEASLEY-POTTER MENAGE A TROIS?

"You're hot, Hermione," Xavier drew closer into me to speak due to the rumbling voices of the masses. "I don't know what you see in that bloke. He's pathetic. You need a man."

"Coming from a child," I patted his shoulder and gave him a nod.

"Ouch…," He held his chest. "That hurt."

"Look, Xavier…," I sighed. I didn't want to hurt him, but I didn't want him clawing back to me. I didn't want to lead him on, if that's what he thought I was attempting to portray. "You're handsome, and the girl's here…"

Somehow…

"They like you," I gave him a reassuring nod when he frowned. "Why not ask that one dark-haired girl I sometimes see you with. She's cute."

"Ursala?!" He tilted his head back a laughed, scaring the poor first years walking away from us. "You've got to be kidding, right?!"

"She seems nice."

"She's…like a bicycle," he tapped his nose and looked at me. I studied his action from the corner of my eye. "If you catch my drift."

"Ah…," I wouldn't, and couldn't, play games anymore. I was off-limits and I needed to pound that into every guy's thick skull, young or old. You can see, but you cannot touch. I turned to Xavier and he gazed at me with hope, and here I was about to crush him. I sighed, "It's not going to happen. I'm sorry. I'm happily-more than happily engaged-"

My hand felt of the cold, metal and plastic electronic in my hand, my arm inside my bag. I knew the rounded, smooth texture and how I could break it in two, letting it flip to open.

"I just don't know what you see in Harry unless you're like every other chit who worships him…and, I know you're not like those girl's. Hell-you're a damn woman who needs a-"

I had taken my cell phone out secretly, just having the flap of my bag pulled away as it hid enough so I could see it. A white screen flashed and the words, "Text from Harry" read in its center. I flipped the phone back, closed, and looked up at Xavier as he continued to talk to himself, throwing a tantrum on how "Harry wasn't the best for me, he's better looking, yada, yada, yada…"

"I need to go."

"Have you been listening to me?" questioned Xavier as we came to a T-intersection.

"Take care, Xavier," I started going the opposite from him, to the left, and waved. "See you next week, and be prepared to get a one hundred on that essay!"

"Whatever…," he said, trouncing off angrily.

The moment he left me in solitude, I brought my cell phone back out to read what Harry wrote. I got special permission from the Professor to enchant my phone to communicate to Harry. Harry, protected under so many divisions of the Ministry, could have certain things done around him that most people couldn't have. Not saying that Minerva wouldn't allow me to talk to Harry, but I did go for permission and she permitted me without asking questions. It helped me, kept me sane, to know that Harry was able to get in touch with me if anything odd happened or he was put into a jam.

Of course, he told me he wouldn't message me unless something major did happen, so when I got the text message my heart skipped. I clicked on the buttons in haste to pull up his short sentence and was ready to Floo, heading towards the floor with the Defense classroom. The message read:

Turn around.

Of all the times, I thought. I-

I halted my walk and reversed direction. My skirt fluttered as I turned to see, striding with ease as if the students gave him a path straight to me, Harry, my bronze-haired lover. His shirt flittered loosely from his sides as he glided on to me, his golden eyes flashing like his grin. He had his hands in his pockets, and I believe in that moment, my heart stopped. He looked utterly gorgeous with that bit of bronze hair coming from the low cut of the v-neck. I felt giddy, the environment of Hogwarts making me that little school girl once more, all in love with the tingling feeling upon my skin.

I smiled right back at him and slipped the cell phone back in my bag, my eyes glued to Harry and his confident, handsome step. I wiggled in my spot-my God was he beautiful-and gripped at the strap of my bag to keep me from jumping his bones. He came right up to me. Students glanced at him as he came through the crowd, but I must have done an excellent job as there wasn't too much of a stare. Some girls watched him from the corner of their eyes, but I brushed the gawking off. Harry was mine.

"Hey…," I didn't know why I whispered, but the words fell out quiet. The smile stuck on me as he took hold of my shoulders and bowed in to kiss me. More people started to take notice, and I had to pull away as much as I didn't want to.

"Hey," he whispered back in a laugh. He knew he flustered me.

I lightly smacked his shoulder, "Don't scare me like that! Nearly gave me a heart attack texting me! I thought you were in trouble!"

"Sorry," Harry took me in his arms and embraced me. I tightened in our hug. "Didn't mean to do that… But, I wanted to catch you before I left."

My cheek was buried in his chest. I glanced up at him and asked, "You're leaving?"

"Yeah… Aren't you still on the clock?" He peered down at me.

"…Yeah," I sighed. The mass of student started to thin. The fifteen minute break between classes ending.

He ran a hand down my back bringing chills. He stepped us behind a column for more privacy, looming gazes still catching us from the lingering kids wandering the halls. I smelled of his pumpkin pie scent and smiled, hiding my face in Harry.

"Wouldn't want to distract you," he added with a chuckle.

"I thought you were going to the Ministry and Hogsmeade?" my voice came out muffled and broke back to normal when I leaned up to see him. "Why are you here? Not that I don't want you to be here…"

I buried my face back into his chest, my arms holding him.

He stroked, combing my hair with his fingers, "I did do those tasks, and the three unicorn tufts are back at home."

I smiled, the cotton of his shirt cushiony on my smooth skin.

"I also…," Harry paused and I glanced back up at him. "I also got a job."

"You… You got a job?"

"Don't sound so shocked," he smirked with a snicker. "You sound like it's the end of the world."

"I just-wow, that's wonderful, love," I stood on my tip-toes and caressed his lips. "You were just against the idea of me working, and now you're working… Sorry if I came off sounding negative."

I grinned, "I'm happy for you."

"Would you be…," He looked away from me, behind me, and I twisted my head to see Professor Flitwick wobble on by.

He nodded in greeting, "Miss Granger."

He smiled when he saw Harry, strolling along, "Mister Potter."

I chuckled and waved at Professor Flitwick. Harry let loose one of his hands from my waist to wave at him as well. Nothing, not even a cosmetic potion, got by the professors.

"I always loved Professor Flitwick," I smiled at his wobble.

"Mm…," I turned my gaze to Harry and he resumed from before. "…Would you be happier if you saw…more of me?"

"Now that's a silly question…," I cocked an eyebrow. Not that Harry could see it as it hid behind the strands of hair hiding my left eye. "Of course I'd love to see you around…but, what are you getting at?"

He ruffled the hair atop my head roughly. I pushed on him gently and laughed, coming back to him instantly and as quick as I left him to push. "I got a job…"

"Yes…"

It hit me.

Wow, some know-it-all I am. Can't live up to that anymore, I guess.

"You got a job-here?!"

"…Would that be a problem?" He smirked, but his eyes were unsure.

I threw my arms around his neck, "Oh, Harry…that's wonderful, absolutely wonderful!"

My eyes were aligned with his, "But, doing…? Tutoring?"

Harry let out a loud laugh, "Yeah-no, I'll leave the smarts to you."

I rolled my eyes. Harry was smart. I didn't like him discounting himself like that, but let this one slide to get to the core of the questioning, "Then…?"

"Remember?" He grinned from ear-to-ear. "Professor Hooch needed an apprentice?"

My eyes lit up and I kissed him.

"Even though," he mumbled, laughing into my lips. "Professor Hooch told me I wasn't much of an apprentice, knowing the knowledge of brooms and flight like I do… That I was more like her…second-in-command."

"Harry…," I hugged him tighter and tighter. "I'm so happy and proud of you, love!"

"Monday morning I'm going to get the full, Hogwarts treatment," He squeezed my hips. I grinned on and wriggled in his grasp.

"Introduction in front of the whole Great Hall?"

"In front of the whole Great Hall," he nodded.

"Nervous?" I laughed through my nose. Harry's voice tinged on haughty.

"Nahh…"

"…Without?" I motioned with a nod toward his features, his changed physical appearance. "Everything?"

"Just me, the real me."

"Wow…that'll be interesting…"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "The Headmistress is expecting a rousing cheer. She even joked about putting in extra security for my safety."

I narrowed my eyes, "That's not funny…"

Harry tapped the tip of my nose, "It was supposed to be."

***

"You know, you shouldn't be doing that."

I had my guitar in my lap. We were without the men. Ginny and I just got finished going over preparations for her and Neville's wedding. Green gowns would be worn by the bridesmaids with bouquets of lush, red tulips instead of the wintery blue with white roses. She preferred chicken instead of the fish for the after-meal. She had a delivery of small cakes, a variety of combinations from carrot to Dutch chocolate, sent to her for taste-testing. The variety still lay on her coffee table in the middle of their den.

I went to home to change before apparating over to Ginny's. A more comfortable number of dark blue jeans and a gray t-shirt clad to my form. A black vest held secure to my figure and on top of those layers held clasp a black leather jacket with yellow lining. I loved my black leather. My Converse shoes were propped on their sofa and I was stretched its length, relaxed after the estrogen overload. Full, too, of the various sweets. Ginny practically threw cake at me, shoving piece after piece in my face.

I didn't know if I'd be hungry after all of it. Harry was coming for me soon with yet another surprise of a dinner-date. He wouldn't tell me where, but I had a feeling…

I gazed at Ginny from afar. She was turned around with her back to me while perusing her collection of CDs. She put in Shade Epsilon's new album and cranked the volume. I had to yell over the pounding, pop-base and lyric. Ginny swiftly moved so I could see her, an off-white stick in her mouth with wisps of smoke rising from the lit end. She rolled her eyes at me and plucked the joint from her lips.

"Yes, mother. Whatever you say, mother." She put the joint back between her lips and fell on my feet.

"Hey!" I had to kick from underneath her to get loose.

Ginny took my feet after I got out and put them on her lap, "There." She petted the soles as she lay back and tried puffing a ring of smoke into the air, her head tilted against the backside of the sofa. She elevated her feet on the coffee table and sighed audibly. She turned her head toward me and observed how I fingered the chords, my eyes static on my hand.

I glanced up at her and shook my head, "I thought you wouldn't do that again. I thought that was a release after everything."

"Look," she became defensive and bit at me with her words. "A lot of shit is going on, all right? Can't I just fucking relax? It's not like a light up every bloody day."

"When's the last time you lit up, Gin?"

She went silent, her eyes closed.

"Does Neville know you're doing it again?"

"Fuck you, Granger," she mimicked Professor Snape. She had a knack for Severus, bless his deceased soul. "One billion points from Gryffindor for being nosey."

I leaned in my seat to have Ginny glance back over at me. She smiled when I gave her the finger and laid right back against the armrest. My fingers went back to the strings, strumming into a riff. I made the high-pitched melody as I went, not knowing where I was going, but rode the rollercoaster all the same. My eyes flicked to see and hear Ginny orgasmically sigh, her mouth fixating in that signature "O"-shape. She lowered in the crook of the sofa so her upper back lay for support.

I felt her hands gathered around my shoes, squeezing them with a rhythm to my chords. She began to untie them and, sensitive as I was to feel her through my shoes, I kicked her lightly to stop. He swiveled her head and laughed at me.

"So," Departing from keeping an eye on plucking my black and white electric guitar with one of the picks Harry bought me for Christmas, I started to question my bestie's motives. She promised me that she wouldn't smoke anymore. I let her be because of the turmoil we all went through after the War, being shaken pretty bad, but now-she was about to be wedded to a wonderful man. I didn't get it.

"Why are you smoking again? Why do you need to `fucking relax'? You're about to get married to Neville in a month! Shouldn't you be excited?!"

Ginny winked at me from the side, watching me glide my fingers across the guitar strings, "…Do you know how absolutely sexy you are?"

"Don't change the subject," I halted my fingers and stared at her lingering gaze. She had turned completely to her side to look at me. "Tell me what's going on and why you feel the need to resort back to that."

I pointed at her marijuana cigarette.

I picked up the butterbeer bottle I'd been drinking out of since our taste-testing and took a swig to get the dry out of my mouth.

"You're not going to narc on me, are you?"

"Tell me what's going on," Our eyes were connected as one, though mine were more attentive to her lazy composure. I put the butterbeer back on the table. "We've never kept secrets from each other. Why are you now, Weasel?"

"Do you really want to know?" she spoke rhetorically.

"No, Gin. I'm talking to hear myself talk," one of my metal studs on my leather wrist cuff clipped a string making it resound deafly in the loud musings of Epsilon.

Ginny took a long drag of the cig and blew the smoke out in front of her, having turned away from me. She closed her eyes and sighed, opening them along with her mouth, "Mother's been bitching at me. Dad's been letting her bitch, the one front I rely on to defend me. Ron's being Ron-sure he's better, but it's not like he's being let out any time soon. My other brother has practically stopped talking to me for one reason or another, and-"

She stopped and looked over at me.

I looked between all her features, from her chin to her mouth, to her nose to her eyes. I couldn't quite read her. Her face would move between so many different emotional ranges. At first she'd look happy, and then she'd follow the smile with a frown.

"The…INEVITABLE!"

"Um…," she screamed the word, "inevitable" out with what sounded like pain. "Gin?"

"What?" she coughed and I just shook my head.

"Why did you say inevitable like that?"

"Because it is? That's why?"

"What are you telling me…Gin?" She turned to me and spoke without speaking. Her eyes were lifeless and I couldn't understand why. I immediately thought it was the drug, the marijuana in her hand, but I'd seen her high before-and the look she gave me wasn't because she was high. The look toward me was a sign that she wasn't happy; that, Ginevra Weasley wasn't pleased.

"I don't know…," Gin gazed longingly at the ceiling. No enchantments were placed upon it tonight, the wood and its planks bare to be seen.

"Gin," I had to get something tangible back in her mind. She was losing it for some reason unknown to me. She loved Neville. "You love Neville. You've been with Neville for almost a year. When he proposed to you, you were bouncing around like a kid with too much caffeine. Why are you saying this now?"

"Maybe mother's right…"

I placed my palm along my face and raked my fingers down the crevices surrounding my nose. I sat up further in my seat, my guitar hanging from its strap around my neck.

"Maybe this is all one, big mistake… I'm too young, Neville isn't right for me…"

"Ginevra," I sighed. Molly's been… Well, Molly's been being Molly. She wanted things her way like Ginny; but, her mother was a force to be reckoned with in desperate times. I lived with her-I should know-especially being not of the Weasley family. She really coddled me like a child and tried to get into my head about Ron.

"Neville loves you with all of his heart. Don't do this to him."

Ginny sighed again over the music, her eyes looming on something above her, "I don't know anymore…"

"Gin, don't mess a good thing up!"

"It's already messed up… We fought the other night."

"Why? Because of your mom?"

"Because…," she looked over at me and smiled which caught me off guard. "Because…I don't know anymore."

"Fine, Gin," I groaned in frustration. Even with the battle between mother and daughter, I could rightfully picture Molly penetrating through Ginny, hard-headed, like mother, like daughter. "Fine-tell me something you do know. Let's start from there, eh?"

Ginny smashed the bud against the front page of the Daily Prophet lying on the table and dropped the cig into the throat of her butterbeer bottle.

"Well," I said with a smirk. "That's a good start. I like seeing that."

Ginny grinned at what I said and swiftly turned to crawl. On her hands and knees, she quickly crept toward me as if she were on fire, coming on fast. She tossed all her Weasley-red tassels back with one flick of her head. She was between my legs and above my guitar before I could say a thing. Her lips were hurried and upon mine the moment I went to say, "What are you doing?" but only ended up saying, "What-"

She wrapped her arms around me and caressed me softly, more letting her lips rest atop mine. Her body heat, warmer than usual, radiated beneath her cardigan. Or, maybe the heat came from me? I was still, my eyes straight forward. We had kissed before, innocently years ago just to see how it felt to be kissed. But, the way she kissed me and clutched to me-this wasn't innocent-Ginny wanted this to happen. She didn't make any other attempt but to kiss me, thankfully, because if she had that would have woken me up from this surreal trance. She ran the tip of her nose against mine. This was happening, but it wasn't happening; though, it was happening.

Something in me clicked and I started to move to my own free will. Ginny must be telepathic, or she has extra sensory perception, because she released her tender, brief kiss to lay her head upon my chest. I would have pushed her clear off me, but she spoke, perking my ears up by how sincere she was making it doubly difficult to concentrate on hating her for doing such a thing.

"…You've been there for me through thick and thin, Hermione…"

"Gin-"

"I love you… I've fallen for you, Brownie…"

Part of me wished Harry would have knocked on the door that very instant.

Part of me wanted to comfort my best friend who was going through conflicting scenarios.

Ginny merely lay on my chest for the rest of my visit. She relaxed into sleep and settled with her arms limply draped along my figure. My guitar was at my side, and I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, out the window when the wind blew the trees, towards the air conditioning when it turned on, wondering:

What am I to do?

The back of my mind wished it all because of the drug, the Ministry doing wonders to control the substances, but how she smiled in her sleep against me read the true denouement.

***

"Are you not feeling well?"

Harry's voice brought me back down to earth. I noticed I'd been rolling and re-rolling the same linguini over and over again in the prong of my fork. We were underneath the hanging gardens of bougainvillea amongst the candlelit chandeliers. Mi Amor hadn't changed since the first date we came here. In contrast, we had changed. I had changed. I changed two hours ago in Ginny and Neville's den. My best friend meant what she said…and, that wasn't ever going to go back.

I slipped out from under her when I had the chance. I used a charm to disperse the smoky environment and sat on their opposite sofa. I watched Ginny sleep. She looked exhausted, but happy in her state of mind. I thought of Neville and what she said, or at least, what she said between the lines. This wasn't fair to him-he loved her-he wanted to marry her, be hers forever. I wanted to have jumped to a conclusion. I wanted someone to tell me I jumped clear into the deep end of the pool. Who could shake a kiss off like that? She didn't just kiss me-she KISSED me.

"Unbelievable…" I said under my breath, looking at my pasta dish.

We sat in an intimate booth for two as Harry made pre-arrange reservations. Of course, Harry could hear me and spoke up in a whisper, "What?"

"Oh," I glanced at him quickly, but averted my eyes to my plate. I shook my head, "It's nothing…"

"Something's on your mind…," he took up his wine glass and tightened his arm around my waist. "You seemed stressed all of a-"

"It's nothing…"

"Did Gin-"

"It's nothing, all right?!" I announced low with a snarl.

Harry put up his hands, "All right! Gotcha… No more talking…"

"Harry…," I sighed. Why, why, why of all days-any day. I leaned into his side and lay my light weight on his. I felt his hand go around to my tummy and hold me there. He peered over at me from his side and didn't breathe a sound. I coerced him to me, "Come here…"

He lowered as I moved up, our lips matching together.

"Happy anniversary, baby…"

I lay my forehead on his cheek and slid my hand to his thigh. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I tried my best to dispose of the images streaming, devouring my mind. Tried. "I'm sorry I yelled at you…"

"It's okay. We're all entitled to have those days. Just…," He looked away from me, at his wine glass as he set it down, and came back to my cinnamon irises as I stared up at him. "…I'd like to know what's causing my wife-to-be anxiety. Communicate with me, love. Try me-maybe I can help?"

I smiled at Harry. Good God, am I in love with this wonderfully talented and handsome man. I drew in a breath, "It's…"

Yeah, Hermione, tell him.

Oh, hi-Harry? Yeah, your ex, my best friend, yeah, she kissed me. Kissed me with a capital "K". Oh, and she said she loved me. Oh, and she was high. Oh, and I may be jumping the wand here. Oh, and on top of it all, she's getting married in a month. Oh, and-

"…It's work, no big deal."

"What's got you upset at work? It's not that guy again, is it? I'll be there next week-maybe I should give him a talk or two. Set him straight if he's causing you this much trouble."

"No, it's…," Tell him the truth, damn it! I looked into his jade green eyes. "…the extra load of work I have to do. I tutor several subjects, more than I thought I was going to be."

Harry chuckled and squeezed me gently, "I thought I'd never hear something like that from you. You were always bonkers over studying, and classes, and things of that nature. I don't remember a day seeing you without your books and school bag."

"I also had a time-turner for most of those years," I grinned and bit my bottom lip. Harry had displayed one of his famous smiles, the kind that made him so kissable-so darn adorable. My bracelets clapped against the metal of my cuffs as I reached around to wrap myself along Harry's neck and brought him into me to kiss him.

"Ah…," Harry laughed, seeing my cheeks blush pink. "So, I'm guessing you let slip in some well-deserved sleep between the forty-two hundred seventy-three classes, and that's the key to success?"

I laughed, laying my lips upon his once more, "Exactly. Dumbledore never said I couldn't use it to get some sleep, only to make sure I used it for useful purposes. Sleep, I deemed, is very useful."

"Or sometimes…," Harry laughed through his nose and snatched a kiss from me. "Lack thereof."

I nodded, my lips close to his. We both smiled.

"Sometimes," I kissed him.

I kept silent while Harry drove us back home. I thought until my brain hurt. I still wasn't clear. Nothing seemed comprehensible. She was my girl, and now, things were going to be weird. Late nights with Ginny? Sleepovers? I thought too much. This was my flaw amongst others. I analyzed and over-analyzed something that would probably come out in the wash as frivolous. Twenty-four hours from now she and I would probably be laughing this up.

The part that agitated me so much more than anything was Neville. He needed to know; that is, if this was all true. She was under the influence, between butterbeer and her cigarette, but… No, everything was going to be fine. They're going to get married, everything will have been forgotten, and everyone will come out happy. I'll forget about this.

Yeah, okay Hermione. You do that.

Thanks for the support, little voice inside my head.

Great! Now I'm talking to myself…

I wandered dreamily, in a daze, upstairs. Harry was ever-concerned, following me step-by-step. I knew he watched every move, every flicker of my eye, every flinch of my mouth. My lips were a straight line. My eyes were focused in that surreal realm where my mind had traveled.

Harry already had his darkened red tie off his neck by the time we entered our bedroom. He started to undo his blazer, pulling it off and heading over to the closet. I continued my stagger, directing myself to the bed. I crawled on top of the spread and fell face-first into the pillow. Wrapping my arms around the feathery softness, I closed shut my eyes. My ears heard the jingling of the car keys being put away, Harry coughing, the fan in the lavatory turning on and off as he went in and out of the bathroom. His dress shoes dropped after hearing, and then feeling him collapse on the edge of the bed, bouncing me on my side.

I opened my eyes a centimeter, just enough to see Harry's bare back facing me. He still had his black dress slacks on, the shiny leather of his belt giving off a matte-like sheen. His slightly tanned skin pulled taut when he twisted and saw me looking at him. He smiled at me, and I smiled too. He set his glasses on the nightstand and hopped on his bum to get beside me.

He opened his arms and that was all I needed to see. He didn't even have to usher me with a motion. I immediately slid on over the cold sheets and met his warm, naked chest. I could feel his heart, hear the pump, beneath his chest when I lay my ear down. He wrapped his arms around me and held me. Slipping my left leg along his left, I inter-mingled my torso down as if we were holding hands, our lower appendages our fingers.

He slid his hand down the indent of my back. I shuddered against him and grinned, rubbing my cheek, my face, into his chest. "Do you want me to relieve you of your shoes?" he asked quietly.

I hadn't taken anything off. I didn't feel like doing much of anything, anyway. Terribly exhausted, I just felt like being with Harry, sleeping with my man on what was left of our five month anniversary. I could feel his engagement ring on my finger and that gave me comfort, settled any lingering, dreadful fears in my head. Harry's aura already removed much of my worry.

I shook my head in reply to his question.

"All right, just making sure you're comfy…," I heard him chuckle and knew he smiled down at me. "Wife-to-be."

I glanced up at him and smiled. I slipped my hand from his other pectoral and around his abdomen.

"I can't stop saying that…"

"Keep saying it," those butterflies erupted in my tummy. Goosebumps formed and I shuddered again. He felt me move as I lifted enough to briefly kiss his lips. My eyelids heavy, I fell right back in my position on his chest-Harry, my pillow.

"I love you, Hermione."

The palm of his hand stroked the top of my head.

I really am the luckiest girl in the world.

Walking my fingers along his right side, I drew a heart with my nail where I clutched at his arm.

The rich aroma of roses, the love garden living on our walls, and Harry's rhythmic, brushing hand drifted me like waves of bliss into much-needed sleep.

{Inspirations for the Chapter: I Wanna Be Your Dog by The Stooges during Ginny/ Hermione's scene; I Hate Myself for Loving You and Oh Woe is Me by Joan Jett; Semi-Charmed Life By Third Eye Blind; Someday by Sugar Ray; tons of Coldplay, and more of the same from the previous chapters; also, nearly forgetting, the scene where Harry walks through the crowd of students in Hogwarts to get to Hermione comes from the scene in New Moon where Edward walks towards Bella in the Forks High parking lot}

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