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.

…Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end - Luna Lovegood

***

Chapter Seventy-five - Room

***

The feeling of nothingness extracted me from slumber. Gaining my faculties, first my hand gripped the sheet beside me, then her pillow case, and when she wasn't there in the dark did I make a large sweeping action across the sheets. In instant reflex, I lifted from my stomach, pushing off at a forty-five with my hands to peer around in the limited lighting. Of course, my mind began to wonder. I glanced towards the unlit lavatory, her vanity, and her desk of books. Sometimes she'd wake to read, as if not to disturb me… But, she'd usually have her eye on me. Actually, she'd always have an eye on me and would have said something sooner.

Everything remained still and black.

I went to roll out of bed. Her side was down, so I knew-or thought-she hadn't have gone far… Only until I realized I was in shorts did my mind finally recollect the information.

She must be with Ginny, I thought. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Feeling a bit better, and less worried, I took time to reassure myself and put some sleep trousers on before heading towards the guest bedroom.

Walking softly with my bare-feet sticking to the cool wooden floor, I wandered onto the stairs, feeling as I did sleep still within me. By the time I had made it to the second floor did I feel to stop a moment, the exhaustion like the very blood pumping in my veins. I'd been so caught up in Hermione's whereabouts that my own health took a backseat. Now that I knew…

The guest bedroom door was opened.

We would have door open when people weren't in there…a safety precaution taken privately; so, when I saw the scene I scratched my head. At least Hermione would have shut the door a crack… This was wide open, as if untouched.

I stuck my head in and saw…

Nothing.

Silence.

Black.

Immediately, I went over the banister and looked into the caverns below and noted the lamplights still on in the living quarters. Again, pieces fit in the puzzle… I had remembered sacking out on the sofa, and doing away with anything else when we had come in from the street. And, Ginny and… I ran my hand across my forehead and stopped, the sensation of smoothness making me backtrack along my forehead. I still wasn't used to being scar-less, half-expecting the seared indentation that became my identity.

"Hermione?" I called out. Even when approaching the living area, no sound could be heard. That stilled silence resumed but the clock above the hearth tick-tocking.

"Hun…?" And, as I rounded the corner and peeked inside did I see the backside of my beloved's head, her head leaned towards the left, towards me, with all her curls shifting in that direction. Quietly, I continued, stepping until I saw them both:

Gin, and all her fiery, red-headedness in Hermione's lap and Hermione, her left hand propping her chin up. Both girls were fast asleep, with Hermione about to topple over like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

I stood there with my hands on my hips and made a chuckle.

I gave a breath and bent down to my knees so I would be closer to their level. "Hermione…," I whispered, not wishing to startle her. No one enjoyed being startled out of sleep. Probably one of the worst feelings in the world other than a heart attack.

"Sweetheart…," I leaned down and kissed her right knee. She sat Indian-style on the sofa cushion. Gently, I massaged the knee, having her move about now with me in my smile.

She blinked to awareness, and then realized who was in front of her after examining her surroundings. "Christ!" she exclaimed in hush. "What time is it?! Oh, I'm sorry, Harry, I was about to-"

"You're fine," I caressed her calf through her pink-and-white striped pyjama trousers, squeezing her knee. I laughed a little when she became fidgety, wanting to erase what had happened for another. "You're fine, really. I just didn't know where you were."

"I should've been up there with you!"

"Hey," I pushed from my knees and elevated myself over Gin to reach Hermione. "Look at me."

She did in her fit.

"Everything is fine, love."

"I just-I left her alone and-"

"Hey," I stopped her fit, again. She went silent, her beautiful, tired eyes upon mine. I took my hand and brought her closer to me, by her chin, leading her as I leaned in to kiss her. I ran my hand through her tassels slowly, keeping our eyes locked, our noses touching. "A lot has happened. It's no one's fault."

"She was crying, Harry; and, I promised her we would do something."

I glanced down at the out Weasley, and then back up at my love. "She's a friend, true; but, she's not your responsibility."

"She said Ron left for the States after Luna, and her mum-you know how she hates her-"

"Right," I nodded, giving Hermione another light peck-kiss. "But, she's a grown adult. Your only responsibility is towards yourself."

"We can't leave her alone."

"We won't," I shook my head, nudging my noses with Hermione's. "I'm not throwing her out in the cold. She can stay here in the guest bedroom for as long as she needs. We're already an extended family. And, in this big home…"

I looked around as if I could see all the room upstairs.

"We can find room."

"Thank you, Harry…," She kissed me, laying her forehead with mine. She kept her mahogany-coloured pools steady. "I love you."

"I love you," I smiled, peck-kissing her once more.

"She thinks you hate her."

"Me?" My brow rose. "That's new. Why?"

"You yelled at her-"

"She yells at me!" I laughed a little. "See? Like one big family!"

"But, she thinks she isn't welcome anymore."

"Codswallop," Shrugging what was said off, I waved my hand. "Do you think that's true?"

"Of course not, but I'm not her. We're all unique, hun."

"Did you say anything to her?"

"Yes-but she was in hysterics. It probably went in one ear and out the other."

I let out a sigh, looking at Gin facing away from me and towards Hermione's stomach. "I swear, we're more like a true family every day."

Sifting my hand from the fringe of my mane, gently I pushed up from my knees and offered my hands, my arms, "Let's get her to bed, then."

"You look tired, babe," she noticed. I was sure there were bags beneath my eyes.

I had slid my arms under Gin, and slowly, not to wake her, plucked her from Hermione. "I'll be fine once she's in bed."

"I'll be right behind you," and I heard her, Hermione flicking the light of the lamp off when she saw I had made it halfway up the first flight of stairs. Then, the pads of her soft feet, following my trail.

Gin instinctively held onto my chest as we rose to the second floor. Giving a smile, I heard a murmur underneath a peep. "What was that…?" I asked, stepping into the confines of the guest's bedroom.

"What did she say…?" asked Hermione, her lovely aura close. I saw her over my shoulder.

Hermione pulled down the sheets and I let her down on the bed when we realized Gin awake, or awake enough to say "I'm sorry…," behind heavy, squinted eyes.

Hermione had flicked the lamp on in the room.

I lowered to her height, Gin on the bed. Squatting at the edge, I put my arms, my hands on the ledge and felt Hermione's warm hand on my shoulder. She stood behind me, looking on at Ginevra.

"Water under the bridge, kiddo."

Hermione gave my shoulder a squeeze.

"Are we still mates…?"

"For a very long time," I reassured. "Long, long, long time."

I found Hermione's touch silky as she ran her thumb across the round of my shoulder, keeping her hand on me.

"That is," I added. "If we don't kill each other first."

Gin made a laugh, and yawned, adjusting the pillow beneath her head.

"Do you need anything, Gin?" asked Hermione sweetly. Gin glanced from me to her. "I can give you one of the shirts I confiscated from Harry's side of the wardrobe to sleep in."

I chuckled.

Gin shook her head. "I'll be fine…"

She smiled, and closed her eyes.

I stood back up, Hermione's hand falling down my back, tracing a line the width of her hand, fingers. "You know where we are if you need us for anything."

She nodded and became still.

I turned to see Hermione, a smile on her face, looking at me.

I smiled, too; Hermione's smile making me smile. "Let's get back to bed."

On the way back upstairs Hermione caught me around the middle from behind. She placed her cheek against my back and squeezed my centre, giving the spot where she laid a kiss. "I swear, Harry…," she said in whisper for only me to hear. "…You make it very easy to love you."

***

Hermione asked for some fruit for breakfast this morning.

And, I was happy to oblige.

We hadn't heard anything from Ginny. In a way, I had become concerned. She was like family-family-and she had protected my love. She would have given herself for Hermione's sake; and, in knowing that, knew she would not ever treat Hermione without respect. Last night became more about emotions than truth. We had talked about it most of last night…waking up every now and then to check on Gin. She really had had it difficult with Neville's passing, and he was a best mate of mine. Though, I knew the pain in her heart overcame my own for we saw her Weasley strength waver, crushed.

We only hoped she knew we did love her, and would be there.

I had a tray in my hands with the fruit. I'd cut the strawberries and the banana into bite-sized chunks. The red and white colours met with navy blue, ripe blueberries intermixed. Some toast with butter sat at the side, and a vase's water rippled as I walked back upstairs holding a red rose.

On the way up, I peeked into the guest's bedroom. The door I nudged with my foot crept open with a creek, the hinge a bit old. Peeking in, I saw the fiery curls varied amongst the cream-coloured pillows, the birch-coloured bed sheets. I could see the outline of Ginny, and whilst tracing the contour connected the lines to her partially hidden face. Lightly stepping once, I went to a tiptoe to see her serene, her eyes closed behind long, black eyelashes.

Smiling, I stepped back into the hall and pulled the door back with a finger.

Our door remained open I saw, stepping from the last stair. Hermione had said she wanted to shower, and I had left her in front of her vanity. Pressing inside by softened, bare step did I see our bedroom empty, her pyjamas lain neatly at the foot of the mattress. The lavatory door had been opened, the door opened enough for a body to slip through. My ears perked of the silence. When one takes a shower one would normally hear the water running; but, the lights were on.

Not even halfway to the bathing room did I hear, finally, water. Movement, as if she had lifted a leg and set it back down; the water sloshing to her action. I grinned at the door, and shook my head. She'd done a little…renovating. And, indeed, with a knock on the door and Hermione's welcoming, "Come in," did I see her magic.

I set the breakfast tray down before going in.

What used to be the shower had been transfigured into a bath, and a spacious one at that. Bubbles surrounded my love like snowy mountains, hiding the perfection underneath. One leg, however, bent up; her lovely knee just out of the water. She'd stuck her wand in her hair and put her hair up in a bun, untouched, and dry above the water. The water had to have been hot enough, the mirrors foggy and the humidity thick.

She glanced up at me with, of course, I thought with a smile, a book to her nose.

"Moved some furniture around I see," I chuckled, wandering over to the side of the bath. Kneeling down at the side, I placed my elbows on the edge and took my sweet in, and her smile.

"Maybe a little…" She laughed.

I hadn't a need to roll up sleeves, nude from the waist up; and, I hadn't the need to ask permission, tapping the surface of the bubbly water to feel it before diving in. I met with her slick, soft tummy and casually ran the tips of my fingers around in circles.

I saw her close her eyes at my touch, and then reopen them, fixed to me.

"I checked in on Gin."

"Still sleeping?"

I nodded. "In complete hibernation."

Teasing her beautiful navel, I watched the corner of her lips twitch before the grin.

Gently, she set her book down on the side farthest from me and shifted towards me. I watched her look from me at first, to where she put the novel, and then push to my side. My hand by her action slipped easily from her stomach and to her side, her hip where I squeezed. Leaning my cheek into my left hand propped by my elbow, I asked, her lovely face with mine now, "What was that?"

She motioned behind her. "The book?"

I nodded. "I didn't mean to be a bother."

She smiled, her hands gripping the side of the spacious tub. With each movement I heard the water splash with her, and noticed how those bubbles continued to keep her concealed. She set her face level with mine. "You can always bother me."

I smiled, and then laughed at her little nose scrunched up and her cheeky grin.

Observing where I was, I kept still, watching Hermione lean forward and peck-kiss my smiling lips. "…One of my old school books from Oxford."

I looked at the ceiling, in smile, and then glanced back down at her, "Hermione…in a bath relaxing with a school book…"

Even in her smile, she narrowed her eyes at me.

"…That hasn't changed," I chuckled, seeing her swish, moving in the water to tap the side of my arm. She left a wet mark, the tiny black hairs on my forearm sodden and down.

Laughing, I shook my head. I leaned forward those inches and kissed her, saying after, "And, I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You can go back," I added, sitting back on my knees with the bath between us. "To school, I mean."

"I know," Her eyes flittered to the space between us, and then gazed back at me with those lively cinnamon saucers.

"I hope you know I'd never hold you back."

"I know," she nodded. "But, for right now…"

"I'd like to just be with you."

I smiled and pushed into the side of the bath. "You are the most wonderful woman in the world," I stated, kissing her once. My fingers had led themselves onto her curve, running the length of her slope as I felt her hand hold where she had already marked.

Now, a wet handprint matted the hair on my arm.

We laid our foreheads together.

"Your breakfast is just outside."

She nodded, laughing softly through her nose. I saw her smile before she kissed me, nudging noses until resting, again our foreheads.

"You're a beautiful man, Harry…," she sighed in the smile. Approaching, she kissed me, laying her hand to my heart.

"Especially here," she said through the caress. With our release and reconnection, our faces together, she said in a breath, "Sometimes I honestly don't believe this is real."

"It is," I reaffirmed, planting another peck-kiss on her warm lips. "It very much is."

"God definitely brought me to you for a reason… I don't think I can thank him quite enough for this, and the second chance."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," I grinned, placing my lips to hers, leaving her there to further explore the tip of her nose, and then her delicate cheek.

My hand moved with expedience, the haste making her abdomen retract when I touched her there. She giggled in our caress, and left me for my own cheek, my neck, and my shoulder. The bubbles had slowly fallen to the water, creating a circle outlining her tiny circumference. My hand went up, feeling her smoothness, each lovable tickle when she'd laugh. I felt her ribs, allowing every one of those digits to fall into the gentle valleys. Tracing the underside of her left breast, I cupped her, handling her with the greatest of ease.

I heard her sigh, and lift from my shoulder, to my mouth where she kissed me.

I felt her beating heart beneath, pumping away my life and hers. The palpitations were strong, and that feeling, to know she was better-healed-had me smile. She smiled, too, our lips as one. She knew the fondling wasn't just playful, but of interest to her health and well-being. Only when satisfied intellectually did my hand become flirtatious, randy, my thumb brushing against the side of her hard, little nipple. Grazing over the nub, I let the swelled pinkness flick to the side-to hear her gasp into giggle, laughter.

"You're always so…"

"Mmm…?" She murmured in our kiss.

"…'Happy'." I laughed through my nose.

And, she did, too.

"I'm never not `happy' whenever I'm around you."

I laughed again, feeling the intensity behind her kiss heighten. For once, I began to need breath. "I can say the same," I agreed with the same passion behind the innuendo.

We broke the caress for a second to catch ourselves when I noted with my photographic memory my beloved Granger, starkers, and how her lovely nude breasts fit perfectly in my hands, the pink excited amongst the white flesh surrounding them, each nipple standing at attention.

"Come in with me…," I heard her raspy voice at my ear. I glanced up at her mischievous, knowing grin. "I made the bath to hold two people."

My smile widened. "Very clever…"

She laughed, and I felt every bit of her jiggle in my hands.

I kissed her before pushing from my knees to stand. "I do need a bath."

Hermione slid backwards in the water and watched me leisurely from the other side. With a bit of rose in her cheeks, I watched her hands hold, and then grip lightly her breasts before fluidly crossing one leg over another with a bit of a flourish and splash. She dropped her head back, closed her eyes… I could see her through the water, having pushed the bubbles aside, and I was glad to have only elastic pyjama trousers on for quick removal.

I watched those hands of hers tug her nipples just as lightly as she gripped. She smiled, having her own film begin the moment my thumbs entered the elastic. When I stood back up, I caught her lingered look, and the bite of her bottom lip.

"Don't forget the door," she said in her grin, wetting her hands with the surface of the water before rubbing her breasts as she watched me.

Dashing for the door, my hurry became nothing else but her.

She giggled when I turned around and went for the bath.

***

I loved how we remained connected, together, our breaths calming after our lovely bout of intimacy. Straddled still, I watched her lift from my chest where she had rested to take the wand from her hair. Each individual brown curl fell, cascading like steady, fragile waterfalls, one right after the next. She shook her messy hair around, and laughed when parts of those loose strands stuck to her moistened face.

I laughed, too.

With an ever-so-slight of touch, I began running my fingers through her lathered-white hair. She didn't move so much on her own, flowing with me, keeping her eyes on me. She only ever closed them when asked, to shield her away from the shampoo. Tenderly, and by the tips, I scratched atop, pulling softly away to wash what tassels escaped my affectionate hands. I watched how the darkness slid easily through the webbings, between my fingers, and then caught her watching me with those beautiful cinnamon irises. Her pupils lingered dilation from our romp, giving the light from the lavatory a breadth for reflection; like tiny stars, she shined with her signature smirk.

"Eyes, love," I didn't want for her to close them, our moment ethereal, surreal in the morning sun.

She shut them, and I plucked her wand from behind my right ear.

Without a word, I pointed first at an awaiting cup behind her on the ledge of the tub and offered a notion towards us. The cup floated over, and as I stuck her wand back behind my ear did I have enough time to catch the cup mid-flight.

"Bow your head a little towards me."

She followed instructions, leaning in as the cup captured some fresh, warm water from the faucet. Lightly, I let the water pour through her hair as I cradled her. I watched how her hair went from white, to a mix, of coffee-tint, to her natural mahogany. The room exploded to life with her vanilla scent as the suds landed without much of a sound around her form and mine. I kept the water from her shut eyes with my hand, a visor just above her brow, and would gently sift my fingers through her drenched locks.

I gave her head a loving scratch when I was done, to hear her exclaim with pleasure a subtle moan. Combing back her hair from front to back, to again, keep the water from dripping, potentially burning her sight, I watched her come to with that signature smirk upon her pink lips. She leaned in, further, and took my face in her hands.

She kissed me, my eyes closing at how soft she was.

She wrapped her arms about my neck, and with fervor, lifted just off her knees. Our bodies collided, or hers with mine. Going backwards, wanting, needing to stay connected within her act, dropped to the bath's lining. The cup aside, I had her with me, on me, and in my arms.

***

I didn't argue with her about the dishes, our breakfast bowls being dried when I came up behind her form. She looked adorable, and I remembered, saw the mental photographs I had stored away of her putting on the pin-striped collar shirt, the little grey tight overalls. Buttons everywhere, six sat on her front, three on each side of her abdomen-of which I touched when I stood behind her-and two on either side of her thighs. The overalls went to shorts, and from the grey came black tights and the same grey-tinted socks.

I smelled of her hair, and I felt her lean back into me, her hands working in circles inside a bowl.

I caressed her shoulder, rubbed my nose into her there and up along her neck. "…If you were an entree, I'd have a terrible time not stuffing my face," I purred softly into her ear, making her shiver and laugh. Grinning, I reached around for the post aside her all the while having shifted around to caress her cheek.

She turned, too, to find my lips. Her hands left the drying dish cloth for my own cheek where she held.

"Have you opened these?" I hadn't checked the envelopes in my hand; though, my attention set across the oven range when her tea kettle piped. I went to take it off the eye.

She shook her head. "Not yet. Found them at the door when I came down and was going to go through them after finishing here."

One envelope, slightly smaller and slightly whiter than the others, peaked my interest. "What have we here…"

"What is it?" Hermione, tossing the dish cloth on the counter, wiped her hands off using her backside, and wondered over to my left shoulder. She set her chin on my ledge and wrapped her arms loosely about my middle.

I read the front, printed in black ink cursive:

To Mister Potter and Miss Granger

"It's a bit on the small side."

"That's what caught my attention, too. And, look," I noted, flipping the letter over. "The Ministry's wax seal."

"Malfoy's monitoring the post."

"He did say…"

Sifting a finger between the paper and seal, the glued pocket opened and a folded piece of bright parchment unraveled out for our paired eyes:

You have been invited to the closed memorial service of the late Miss Zoe Reynolds, also known as and admired by, Shade Epsilon. Her family and intimate friends wish for both of you to attend this Friday evening in her hometown of Northampton at eight o'clock. When entering Northampton limits, a light will guide you to the service. Please dress in black.

Noted by her family and intimate friends, you both were heroes to her and she strived to be as caring as both of you even if a smidgen.

We hope to see you there and meet you.

The Reynolds Family

I felt Hermione's arms tighten.

Taking my left hand away, I met her figure, sliding an arm about her centre as well. I gave her the needed embrace.

"I remember…," I turned from the letter to see her eyes closed, concentrating on her thoughts. She shook her head, opening her eyes to look at me. "…But, I just can't seem to connect one and one. I think I remember…"

"It's all right-now we both know," Leaning into her, I gave her lips a light peck-kiss. With a bit of friction, I rubbed her back.

She laid her forehead on my shoulder, her eyes closing again.

All I could see was the top of her head, and all those tangles brushing over me.

I caressed the top and continued the rub of her back. "Do you want to go?"

"Of course," She tilted back up to look at me through her hair. "Of course we will. We were invited, and-"

I nodded. "I know. I was making sure."

I ran my fingers through her hair, leaving her back a moment to scratch atop her skull. Watching as I combed through the softness, I smiled albeit slightly as she hadn't dropped her focus…and I needed not to get her emotions raging. I didn't wish to see her depressed.

"Did I do a good job?"

She went to smile, hesitated, but smiled in the end.

I could see tears at the ready in her ducts.

"Harry…," she could see right through me like glass.

She was the most brilliant after all.

"Mind if we wait for the tea?"

She nodded, and I heard her sniffle.

"Let's go," I said comfortingly. Pivoting on my heel, I let my hand, fingers linger behind for her.

She took my hand, and in-hand we walked quietly into the den. I led her to the sofa and sat down, leading her further by fingertip as I first stretched out and made ample room for her. She climbed into my pocket, reaching above me, and then around me as she lay upon me, her head below my chin.

The room was silent but the clock on the mantle's tick.

The ambience was filled with natural light coming from the various windows along the walls of the living quarters.

I went for the Gryffindor quilt on the back of the sofa and laid the garnet and gold atop her, us.

With arm wrapped tightly around her, perpendicular to her back, and my other, its hand massaging her head, intermingling with her hair, I heard her after those moments and in the silence:

"…I couldn't have done better, Harry."

I stopped, only to smile, and resumed running my fingers through her soft, dark brown strands.

***

"…I don't believe I can say this enough," The television had been turned on with the volume low. The volume could have been off now as far as I could tell, completely enraptured by the love of my life and how her soft tangles would land across me. We kissed, her lips like silk on mine, her hands capturing my messy nest above. With light grip of my tufts, and with her arms nestled around me, beside me, our intimacy was fruitfully abundant.

When I could breathe, and she, too, did I recourse with the conclusion of the continued sentence, "Your beauty matches your intelligence."

She leaned from me a mere inch to look at me with those vivid cinnamon irises, her pink lips in smile, her locks shifting to one side as she watched my lips move again.

"You truly are the most gorgeous woman in the world."

She sighed into another one of her smiles, the type of sigh that led a man's hair to stand on end and to have his heart sing, before she tilted back to me. She lowered to my lips where she kissed me, to the corner, my cheek, the line of my jaw, and down into the crook of my neck. All the while my form followed silent instruction, moving as she did to give her full allowance to my underside. I could feel the bridge of her nose nudge my jaw ever-so-softly as her peck-kisses, caressing my throat.

My hands never left her, drawing with my fingers that wonderful slope I so admired and that delicate indent of her spine. I fingered all the little niches of her adorable outfit down to the tiny notches of her shorts. Hooking my fingers into them I would pull in satisfaction, to show my satisfaction, whenever she'd find a spot-spots-on me. She also would giggle softly for I'd make a noise from my throat.

My hands cradling each cheek of her petite bum, she lifted, and with her I did, too. She grinned as she knew she had me, in life, in love, forever; and, that I couldn't, wouldn't get enough of her.

I lay back against the sofa and observed her slight movements to reacquaint her comfort. Her knees were between mine at first. She adjusted, readjusted, until she fit around me and on my lap. Where my lips couldn't find her from this height, my hands did. I squeezed her hips as I observed my Hermione's slender figure stretch upwards to the sky. She put her head back, and I, a hand, slid the course of her flat abdomen, making note to go as leisurely as possible.

I felt her shudder, which led to those goose-pimples again.

She retook my hand, hands, and laid them at her cheeks, letting them fall to her direction down her neck, to her shoulders, her clavicle, across her chest, to her breasts. All the while my eyes set to hers, or until she closed them, my touches letting a subtle moan escape from her slightly parted lips. She let out a sigh and breathed deep, in with her nose slowly and out just as slow as she continued to taxi my hands down the breadth of her stomach, to the crease where her hips and thighs met.

She made a whimper, a laugh when I shot up in my seat and wrapped my arms around her.

Her arms, lying, now, atop mine, anchored along my neck.

"You're electricity…," she breathed before I brought her back down with me, and to my lips where they fused.

She giggled, and I chuckled through our kiss.

She had an even better giggle when I caught her sides in a tickle, to break away from me a second to laugh only to be brought by light hand back again to my eager mouth.

So bewitched in our elated state we didn't hear another approach until…

"Um…?" The voice, albeit quiet and cautious, was like our second Great Awakening.

Hermione sat up, and then I did, our faces together and matching. The voice had come from the staircase, and that's where we both startled backwards to see.

The chaotic swirls of a flaming Weasley-red set in bed-head across her shoulders, her golden-brown eyes matched to ours. Her left foot, not quite down on the lowest floor, and that of her clinched hand on the rail led me to believe she wasn't at all wanting to…disrupt, but did so, saying in a breeze, "…Just wanted to get something to drink…"

Her eyes flicked away from us.

Hermione had already begun climbing from me the moment she saw Ginny, and I watched her, moving, too, to stand up.

Ginny's eyes set back to us, and her finger pointed in the direction of the kitchen. "…That is, if I may get something to drink. I'm quite par-"

Hermione had enveloped her in an embrace before she could get out the full word, "parched".

Wandering in behind my love, I came beside Hermione, her back to me. Ginny at first was hesitant with her arms, but rightly wound them around her best friend.

"You needn't have to ask," Hermione chimed, tightening her hug of Gin. "You're always welcome to anything we have."

"Anything," I uttered behind Hermione's words, with honesty.

Gin's eyes, which closed to Hermione's sudden embrace, reopened to my voice, my one word.

I saw the breakdown in her facial features, and then the tears stream down from those golden-brown irises. "I'm sorry," was all that she could muster out before truly ceasing to a weep.

Placing my arms around Gin, too, I gave her my embrace as well.

Encapsulating them both, my friend and that of Hermione, I felt, and watched my love wipe Gin's tears away with care by the edge of her thumb. "We love you, Gin."

"We do," I reiterated, giving the one shoulder of Gin I held a squeeze. "And, we'll be there for you."

I could feel Gin about to buckle under the heavy weight upon her. Gin shook in my arms. Hermione could feel her, too, looking up at me at the same time as I looked to her. "Come," Hermione guided between us. I let go the moment I felt Hermione move with her, an arm about her, towards the kitchen. "Let's get you some breakfast."

"I'll put the tea back on," I said behind the two, slipping between them when Hermione went to the kitchen table with Gin and the doorway.

Hermione glanced back at me as she helped Gin situate in her chair.

She grinned at me in her loving way, my hand around the handle of the teapot. I flicked the stove on and smiled, too, at my lover trying to quell the stuttering breaths of Ginevra with a stroke of her hand.

***

Commerce District, Violet Hill

11:37 AM

Reconstruction teams have rebuilt the majority of the district, including the more financially-driven markets and are in the process of rebuilding the rest behind a Ministry of Magic emblazoned podium. Surrounding a free-standing, easily deconstructive platform stands white cloaks, Aurors, and that of the local Violet Hill police platoon. In the platform's centre, and behind the podium stands interim Minister Malfoy. Beside him his soul-mate, Pansy, both in similar suits. Pansy, forever watching her beloved, keeps her hands folded in front of her as Draco speaks to the crowd, and camera beyond physical and magical barriers.

An air of trepidation holds front and centre with the public, and rightfully so. Trust has been broken, and the deaths from the previous political machine at the wheel of the Ministry. Time could only heal those wounds.

Speaking truthfully about the painful events of what has unfolded with confidence, he is abruptly interrupted by a person who screams out, followed by a group interspersed amongst the crowd:

"He's a Malfoy!"

"A Death Eater!"

"Lucius Malfoy's son!"

"Evil! Just like the rest!"

"Monster!"

"Murderer!"

Malfoy raised his hand, trying in earnest to calm the hecklers. "A moment of your time, please-"

"He should be executed!"

A keyword, and with the world how it was, it didn't take but a second for Aurors to take action. Down went the woman who had shouted for Malfoy's death-her body being taken to the ground-and all of it captured on the international Wizarding News Network camera.

But, only before…

An explosion rocked their foundation from behind.

Smoke and flames expelled from one of the nearest skyscrapers, bringing down pieces of concrete and glass atop the patrons listening to the Minister speak.

Malfoy, Pansy, and his immediate cabinet were all quickly taken by white fog, escaping yet another disaster in the making. The crowd, running for their lives, was instantly protected. The person didn't matter, nor the race or gender. The rapid-response of Malfoy's Aurors went to work. A vast shield became their lifeline, the chunks of building merely bouncing off the combined protego maxima.

Other Aurors had already taken flight northwards to combat whatever-or whoever-might have done this.

***

"Hermione."

I had her leg, her thigh in my hand. I'd been absorbed in her restfully watching television. Another one of her favourite episodes of Friends was on; and, as much as I found it humorous myself, I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her perfect hair, perfect ears, her perfect eyebrows, that perfect nose, cheek, mouth, jaw… I'd been running the length of her leg which was over my lap, Hermione half-sitting on me and half-sitting on the cushion of the sofa we shared. My arm was around her, atop the sofa and behind. I held her close, and she was close, relaxing on me.

She turned to me without reluctance, leaving the imaginary world for her own and smiled when I lifted my hand to motion her over by finger. She pressed into me, a smile on her face, that bit of hair falling over her eye, and gave my loving smirk a caress. My hand had left for her thigh once more where I gave her a squeeze before lightly tapping her ascended bum. She breathed a small laugh through her nose. I'd begun a light rub of the tapped area when we had to stop, hearing a noise coming downstairs.

Padded her feet were, the soft steps of Ginny emerged with her vibrant red hair swishing from around the corner. In one of Hermione's super soft fleece tunics and yoga leggings, she halted shy of the sofa to fix one of the socks on her feet before suggesting, "I really should look into getting my things…," She glanced up after adjusting the sock, continuing onward around the sofa to the awaiting recliner where she plopped down in. "If I'm staying here for a while."

She had taken her legs and feet and put them under her.

Hermione had lowered into more of a…neutral, less private position still aside me and replied to Gin, "It's been decided."

"We'll go tomorrow morning," I proposed, having Hermione look back at me and Gin catch my sight, too. "No sense in unpacking everything at midnight, right?"

Gin grinned from behind her recently showered, shiny head of Weasley genes, and Hermione, in her way, smiled, too. She lowered her head on my shoulder and further laced her arms about me. My hand was in her softened tassels, dotingly scratching.

"Deal?"

Hermione warmly hugged my centre.

Gin looked between us, and then nodded her head, deciding, "Deal."

"Wonderful," I mused in smile, giving my love's forehead a kiss prior to her movement.

She sat up, looking back as she did to Gin, her arms removed while her hands remained touching my chest, "There's more than enough room over here, hun." Hermione patted the cushion on our other side.

"No need to sit so far away."

Gin lagged in response, and I could feel her sudden tension. I'm sure Hermione did, too, but I also realized Hermione's concluded goal. Albeit the happy facade, Gin's body language showed withdrawal. And, I knew Hermione didn't want that with her best friend. So, removing more of herself from me did she usher Gin on over with her hands to which Gin finally gave in.

No one really could say "no" to Hermione.

She gave Gin a needed hug when she sat down with us, asking as she did, "Remember this episode?"

Gin nodded and laughed. "The one where Ross absolutely went mad?"

I smiled, watching my beloved and Gin reminisce about the sitcom a moment before seeing Hermione look back and smile. She had Gin's mind off the inevitable. I sat up more to equal the height I wanted to reach the spots I wanted to reach about Hermione, giving her a kiss atop her head and leaving what was her thigh to a rest on her stomach.

"I was thinking," I went on when they had a breath, the two girls talking amongst themselves about the show.

"Hm?" Hermione gazed up at me, and Gin did, too.

"Let's do something fun, get out of the flat." The tips of my fingers caressed lightly the smooth texture of Hermione's loveliness, her stomach retracting ever-so-slight to see her smile.

"What did you have in mind, love?"

"A dinner date and bowling?"

"Bowling," Hermione echoed, looking aside at Gin. "That sounds like something really fun for us to do."

"Guess I'll have to get used to doing Muggle-related activities…"

I chuckled through my nose at Gin's spout of realism, and the joking emphasis.

"I like the idea," Agreed Gin. Her brow furrowed, though. She pointed at Hermione, and then at me. "But, only if I can help pay for this."

I chuckled again. "We'll see."

***

I don't know if it was the strawberry cocktail Hermione had been drinking or Gin's apple martini, but all the same, I laughed from behind the score machine at them doing the Macarena. The popular song had come on over the bowling arena's speakers, and right in the middle of Ginny's set. Skipping off after scoring a split, and it Hermione's turn next, they met up in their swap and began the dance-for everyone-and there was an audience. I noticed others begin doing the dance as well. I just put my beer bottle to my lips and shook my head, watching my Hermione wiggling her hips right alongside Gin.

The fun didn't stop there. I really should've stopped Hermione after ordering her first drink, and Gin, having them have me stop after a set of mine to dance to Will Smith's Gettin' Jiggy With It. Right there on the wood, the ledge before the glossy-tiled cement we were. I didn't even know there was a dance to this-or if Hermione and Gin made it up-and I didn't care. Through them I found their fun, my fun, my bowling trainers tapped the floor. I heard Hermione and Gin, through smiles, sing-along with the chorus.

The bowling arena had caught the fever by the time Lou Bega came on. Like a disco, really, flashes of different coloured lights stroboscopically flittered through the hall. The neon colours would light the room, a photographic glow, a reflection of my fiance with Gin going along with the lyrics-and with the rest. I don't even think bowling became the forethought, the atmospheric merriment bringing its own gratification to me, and especially them.

I could hear them, beaming, snickering:

"Take one step left!" One would say.

The other would say. "Take one step right!"

"One to the front!"

"One to the side!"

In our lane there they were, and all I could do was laugh behind the lit scoring monitor. Gin had just scored an eight, and I had sat down to put the number in to look up and watch their instructed choreography. With another swig of beer, and a little beat-bopping of my head, the smile resumed with my entertainment:

"I!"

"Do!"

"All!"

"To!"

"Fall in love with a girl like you!"

Their heads, smiling faces would bob back and forth between each other, their fingers pointing at one another:

"'Cause you can't run!"

Hermione would point at Gin in her contagious laughter.

"You can't hide!"

Gin would point at Hermione in her giddy laughter.

"You and me gonna touch the sky!"

I was glad we ate before we went bowling.

With all the fun and energy I witnessed, I don't think I could have gotten them to sit long enough for even a chip.

***

Gin made a statement on why it had to be, "So bloody cold every day" before zonking out in the backseat. I watched her from the rearview mirror in the BMW close her eyes, and then like melting ice cream slowly fall to one side in her seatbelt.

The blue tint of the interior lights gave off a very pretty hue, elevating Hermione's beautifully flawless, pure white skin. I met her dark eyes on me, and her smile, by her touch. She had found my hand, my arm on the armrest between us in front. Interlacing her fingers through mine, she brought my hand up and caressed its top. I saw the small metallic band twinkle on her finger, the engagement ring, and couldn't help but smile, teeth and all.

Laying hers and my hand back down on the armrest, she glanced at me in response to the open statement made by Gin. Replying in her magnificent smile, and in whisper just low enough for me and through Bowie's sexy Let's Dance remix on the radio, "…I'm never cold."

My heart skipped a beat.

She could do that to me.

***

I'd come from the lavatory after brushing my teeth, washing my face, getting ready for bed. I saw Hermione look up at me from her vanity, behind all those pictures of us strewn about the edges of the mirror-all our adventures, the happiness. She smiled at me, and I did, too. Standing with her backside facing me, I noted her bedroom attire, or lack thereof. More skin and less clothing, my eyes could outline her form beneath nearly an entire laced see-through white tiered babydoll. The material almost matched her skin tone giving the illusion of a very naked wife-to-be before me.

I made a hungered noise, a low grunt, before setting off in a trot towards my love where I swept her up in my arms.

She had to drop her hair brush, it landing back on the vanity's top.

She giggled when I tossed her in bed, leaping too, to playfully snarl, nip at her form wriggling in the sheets. My nose grazed the pattern of lace-and-skin, my mouth on her, anywhere and everywhere, making that contagious laughter come to life. I could feel her hands on me, and without so much as a word I could feel through those hands her satisfaction.

A lingered breath between her breasts, and a light kiss of the hollow of her throat, I'd come bottom-to-top to see those pupils of hers dilated. She had her arms around me, hands attached, and smiled with me as I asked in a husky voice, "So, today-did you have fun?"

She went to answer, "Y-Y-" only to be quieted by another light kiss of her throat. Her head, her chin, the jaw lifted for me in response. I kissed her again there, and tilted upwards to see her eyes reopen. She smiled, her mahogany curls framing her gorgeously sculpted face.

I smiled. "It did look like you had fun."

She laughed, leaving me for our ceiling a beat to come back to me in her sight, "I absolutely loved tonight. And, Gin did too."

I caught her again, having her gasp into a sigh by another lingered kiss to her lovely throat. I could feel her chest ascend and descend in the sigh beneath me.

"I swear you're so gosh darn edible sometimes…," I breathed when coming back to her height.

My mind, and body, reeled at what I had and what was before me.

"Really?" She smirked, snickering. "Well…"

"Hm?" Her voiced took me from a gradual aroused state.

"There's only one way to find out."

"Mm…," Salivating, I swallowed, glancing at her beneath. My eyes went to hers, my brow cocked. "…I'm not entirely sure what you've just brought onto yourself…"

Hermione's eyes went wide.

From outside the door one could hear the sharp gasp, and maddening laughter, giggles, from one Hermione Jane Granger.

***

Within the Minister's First Office, Ministry of Magic, London

1:14 AM

"Has it all been in vain…has it…" Malfoy spoke from his knees. Illuminated by only the fireplace, Draco, still in his Ministry-affiliated suit and tie, looked back at the empty painting of Albus Dumbledore. The painting had been moved from deep within the underground to his office chambers in hopes that maybe once he'd see…

Pansy ran her fingers through Draco's fine blonde hair, making him look back at her however listlessly in thought. "My love, you've done so much… The lives you've saved."

"Your father would be proud at such a fine, grown man you've become, " she ended in a smile.

She could see the apprehension in his eyes, and how much he relied on her for strength. She sat above him, in the Minister's Chair, for Draco put her there. "I wish only to make this a better world for us-but the hardships…"

Draco looked away, at the fireplace, to have Pansy take him back by his chin. "I'm proud to be your wife, Draco."

"But I can't save everyone," Draco let the sentence slip all together, as if it were one lengthy term.

"In the end," Pansy sifted her hands through his pale, white blonde hairs once more. Her large eyes locked with his in the shadows between the flickering firelight. "We're human, capable of being only that into eternity."

"To keep everyone safe," Draco began. His sight wandered downward and back again. "That's my priority. Today-"

"Today no one was hurt," Pansy inserted. "The incident wasn't an incident at all-a trap undone by the team."

"But, it's a reminder of-"

"You've done beautifully, my love."

"My only hope for the future…" Draco lowered, leaning down into Pansy where he planted a single kiss atop her stomach behind a buttoned-up Ministry suit and tie.

She smiled at him, and how he remained there at her abdomen. Her hand ran down from his fringe, to the back of his hair, and farther to the starting of his upper back muscles. He had wrapped his arms about her middle, his face within the soft confines of Pansy's core when a knock was heard at the double-doors.

Their intimate silence shattered.

Draco, making an effort to stand from the floor with his false leg did so with the help of his cane and that of Pansy's stability. "Enter," Draco ushered, back in his authoritarian voice.

The door crept open and a white cloak's hood appeared from the crack. "Sir?"

"You may come in."

The Auror shuffled in, but only a foot's breadth inside. He widened the space he created, nodding towards Draco's world sitting in the Chair in greeting. "My apologies for interrupting, sir."

Draco shook his head. He put up his hand. "What is it?"

"Rita Skeeter-"

The words were like an anvil from the swallow Draco took down to his bowels. "Rita. Skeeter," He pronounced them as if he needed to ingest the awful taste which was given. His eyes narrowed. He hadn't heard her come up for a while now. For all he knew the old bat was dead. "What of her?"

"She's shown in the Atrium."

"She…?!" Draco stepped forward, tensed. "She dare show herself?!"

"She's turned herself in and has been promptly escorted to be interrogated."

Draco, in swift turn, gazed back at Pansy. He had heard her get up from the Chair. "Love?"

Pansy yawned into a stretch. "I believe it's about bedtime for this tired out girl."

Draco, leaving his attention from the Auror to Pansy, walked back that few feet to meet her lips, and to place his hand upon her stomach. She exchanged an embrace, Draco hugging her tightly, and excused herself for a door adjoined with the office chambers.

The Auror nodded as Pansy excused herself for bed, and then looked back from beneath his hood at Draco moving forward. "Rita's been asking to speak with you."

Draco, hobbling passed the Auror on his cane, looked back at his member in pursuit and said with a strained grin, "Funny, I'd like to have a word with her as well."

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