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-eight - Together

***

We sat together on the sofa.

Hermione comfortably sat upon me. The Gryffindor quilt, and its roaring yellow lion, fell around our circular circumference. One circumference, for our bodies were together. Not so much as pressing, but together, at rest. The picturesque way I saw her with the warm glow of the lit hearth behind her made her more unreal, surreal. The orange licks would lighten across her silken, mahogany curls as they shifted, shifting with her, Hermione shifting with me. The orange would cascade across her features, her face, the white dancing in her eyes as she watched me watch her move in unison.

She smiled, her pink lips curling to my fancy.

I smiled, too, our hands clasped, intertwined a moment. And then their fall, their escape as her hands went to feel of my arms, and my hands went to feel of her. The pyjama top, her sleep shirt fit big on her figure. My hands, however, found her shape, the curve from her hip and upward along the small breadth of her sides. I felt of her hands underneath my arms, my eyes, dark in the shadows she created, kept to her.

I grinned when she fidgeted at my squeeze, feeling of her soft centre. My ears perked to her giggle. The whites of my eyes twinkled as Hermione lowered, lifting the curtain of darkness enough to showcase the happiness I felt. She slid around me, her arms about my neck. My arms did the same along her back, pulling her to me and on me. Our lips found their partner, the warmth of her giving breath of my need. Her arms left me for her hands. She cradled my face, her delicate fingers on my five o'clock shadow. She tilted me on her command, our caresses loving, passionate. She'd leaned me back, her fingers beneath my chin. I found her smile, and then her lips again on mine. Her fingers sifted through my hair.

My hands would smooth out and ruffle her sleep shirt.

Across the flatness of her stomach I found the beginnings of a button, buttons, feeling of her blindly for my eyes set to close. With the first button undone, I felt Hermione slowly stop to observe me, our faces together, on level, her deep pools of cinnamon gazing into me. Her eyes flicked upwards and downwards, side-to-side, mesmerized at once of me in the firelight. She smiled, pushing further against me, pushing further into my hands.

Her hands led themselves back through my hair, back through the mess of black tufts. She pressed however slightly from the sofa cushions with her knees. Climbing that half inch she found my forehead where she caressed me. With or without my lightning bolt scar, her kiss held me to stop my actions, the sensation of warmth coursing softly to my toes and up again.

The fourth button had been undone, enough for my hands to slip in and feel of her, her skin, the essence of my beloved woman. I had her and lifted her back on me in our slanted sit on the sofa. Her eyes lit at my strength, a smile creeping across her lips. Those dark mahogany curls slipped to the side when she moved, slipping over that eye. She flicked her head to reveal herself and lay into me, and into my new embrace.

I had her between her natural silkiness and the down of the crimson-and-gold quilt. With my hands, I'd pushed the fabric of her sleep shirt up, feeling her, feeling the material of her warm knickers leading into the lovely slope of her back. The sofa made a noise, noises, as she would move on me. Even the slightest of movements would hear the padded weight through the flickering fire.

She had me turn my head. Her soft lips kissed a line from my mouth to my cheek and down. She lowered into the crook of my neck where I felt of her peck-kisses on the underside of my jaw. The bridge of her nose would nudge me, and I would smile, exploring like her, my Hermione, by fingertip.

I must've tickled her, a laugh, a giggle, a jump from my touches.

I laughed, too, seeing her wiggle in my arms, and then gently sat straight on my lap.

Our eyes locked, and the heat from before instantly sparked back.

My hands, my fingers had found the last three buttons of her sleep shirt and undid them. From the pyjama top I could see the white line of her now peeking out.

Her hands found mine, and then my arms as I slid across that tiny distance between us to get back to her, and that familiar warmth.

Gently, and ever-so-slowly, I led my hands upwards. As I did I saw more and more of Hermione. The two pieces of material opened for me. I slipped in further when I could see her beautiful stomach and grasped her below her ribs. My eyes kept to her, and hers to mine. She gave me full access in love, and in loving me. I felt of her breaths the more I lifted further. My thumbs traced each individual rib, each individual niche.

Inhaling deeply, she let out a sigh.

Her eyes left me to close, her head tilting back just enough so I could see that smile I created bring life to her lips. Her brunette tresses fell about her in that moment, my hands having slipped over her breasts.

These were seconds, for the next I saw her eyes again and that smile still there.

She lowered, and my hands did, too, to her back.

Her lips collided with mine, her arms back around my form, my neck.

I could feel the warmth of her nakedness against mine, and squeezing her to me kept her there.

The twilight of night had come.

No sounds but ours and the fire could be heard within Number Twelve.

I laid my fiance back on the sofa, me and our Gryffindor quilt her heat within this nighttide of Fall. The moment her head hit the sofa pillow did my lips meet hers. I had her in my arms, my hands travelling her body, and hers on mine.

She gasped when I had found her, and I smiled with her.

I lowered once more, and she planted her readied lips on mine.

***

Harry…

Lying amongst the fields of flowers with Hermione, our caressing lessened the more I…heard my name? What sounded like a whistling in the winds, mere hushes underneath a crystal-clear blue sky and warmth of the sun, drifted to one understandable word:

Harry…

I had her in my arms, Hermione lying across my lap when I broke from her to look to my right when I heard my name.

"What is it?" she said, churning in my lap. I could feel her arms about my neck loosening as she felt at me.

Harry…

I had heard it again.

I glanced up, upwards at the sun, shielding my eyes.

The light eclipsed my sight, the bright white overcoming me until…

"Harry."

I awoke, albeit drowsily.

Recovering my faculties, I remembered using a bit of magic to make the sofa larger, looking behind me at the sofa's backside. And then, Hermione, who slept in my arms beneath the crimson and gold of our quilt. She had me, my right hand in hers, all the while we spooned. I heard what I thought was rain pitter-pattering against the window panes and the roof beneath the crackling of a warm hearth.

I had moved, lifted when I…my name?

The shift had Hermione stir, too, her legs moving with mine. I watched her in lazy smile hide more of her beautiful self in Gryffindor, gathering my heat as well as hers. I hadn't the time, gazing out towards the closest window when I heard it again:

"Harry?"

My sight immediately flicked to the fireplace.

The whispers of my name had come from there, and when I focused saw the image of…

"King-" My voice came out a bit loud in retrospect, reversing when I noted the loudness in the quiet atmosphere. And, to another Hermione stir. Retracting, I whispered his name again, "Kingsley?"

I went to move, to unwrap Hermione around me, but she had none of it.

She made a noise and held onto my hand even tighter.

"I'm sorry to wake you this hour, Harry," came Kingsley from the flicking flames. "But, I'm in need of your assistance and thought-"

"One second," I had to interject. I hadn't wanted to wake Hermione from her needed slumber, and the more I moved, and the more Kingsley spoke the more she fidgeted until she rolled towards me.

Blinking in sleep, she asked the obvious and in such a cute, high-pitched languid-filled voice, "What's wrong…?"

I had to laugh a little at just how adorable she asked.

But, it did give me time to begin the progression of my hand, and arm, from her. "It's nothing, I-"

She had closed her eyes before I could get everything out.

I chuckled, and gently, ever-so-gently, lifted from around her. The soles of my naked feet hit the cold wooden floor, giving me a shiver. They stuck until my feet had hit the plush rug before the hearth, shuffling closer to Kingsley gazing around the environs of Number Twelve. When my knees hit the ground, moving to sit Indian-style on my bum, he then focused on me.

"How are you, my boy?" The fire crackled betwixt his fatherly tone. "Feeling well, better than before?"

"Yeah, it finally hit-sleep. Hermione had to drag me upstairs," I smirked at what a scene that was in my head. "Slept a whole day."

"Good, good…"

"Sir," I had to interrupt him. He needed me, or so he said. And, Kingsley, and Draco, the Order…they'd given me… It wasn't as if Kingsley had asked a lot from me since I'd met him. So, for him to ask now… He never was one to be blunt with me, especially when he knew asking might have…unpleasantries.

His eyes, flickering inbetween the flames, affixed on me.

"You needed me?"

He paused a beat, glancing around Number Twelve, to come back within the sudden silence.

"It's… It's not simple, Harry," His eyes observed my adjustment, finding a comfortable position closer to the fireplace.

"What isn't?"

He chuckled. "You certainly have grown."

Kingsley sighed, and through the flames the sound reverberated through the settling wood. "The assistance we need from you, which I need from you, comes two-fold."

"The first," he continued. "You are the shining star of the wizarding world, Harry."

"I didn't mean to be, sir."

"I know, Harry; and, I also know what you've done for us which makes this incredibly difficult to ask."

"Even through death I will help the Order, Kingsley. You know that," I exclaimed truthfully, remembering my beauty behind me on the sofa.

Kingsley coughed at the mention of death, "Precisely, Harry."

"Precisely?"

"As you know all too well," he resumed. "Over here you are believed to be dead. And, we're taking extraordinary precautions in keeping you in the Muggle world. Extraordinary precautions, Harry. You are our greatest secret. If your existence were to get out the unbelievable may happen…or, it may not."

"I wish I were a reader of the future," he added rhetorically. "Life certainly would be easier if I was."

"I didn't mean-"

"No, Harry," Kingsley stopped me for he knew my train of thought. Close enough to be psychic, at least. "You are loved, Harry. She loves you."

I saw his eyes flick back behind me at Hermione, and when I turned saw her within the tangles of crimson and gold, her arm above her head where I had left her.

I smiled.

"After everything, Harry," I returned to his profile. "You deserve this life."

I lowered my eyes, humble, and smiled. "Thank you, sir."

My sight went to him. "I only wish-"

"We wish it, too, Harry, for we need you to help us keep us in power."

My brow rose. "Isn't Malfoy?"

"Draco insists on moving forward with the public vote, which is in fact the proper way of politics. But, if he loses-"

I waited for him to continue, watching Kingsley's face spark back up after quietness. "We're moving forward in strides, fixing what has been done. And, we only wish that, somehow, you could be there with us."

"To speak," I interjected. "On behalf of Malfoy."

Kingsley's eyes dropped from mine, only to look up as he said, "Exactly."

"We can't parade you in front of the cameras," he noted. "To say that we, the Order, used the darkest of magicks to… We would be hypocrites, and surely anyone-anyone-would swoop in and implant their own administration. Any administration."

I began rubbing my forehead.

I could feel a headache coming on the horizon.

"We're not out of the woods yet, Harry," Kingsley stated. "There still is true evil out there. We need to establish ourselves for the safety of our future. We cannot have another-"

"Have you and Malfoy thought of anything?" I asked through my hands. The headache had been achieved throughout the deep thoughts, trying my best to think of anything-anything at all in this…slight predicament. "Any way I could be of help?"

"Maybe I could record myself-would that-?"

"Then the question could be raised how we had gotten your voice to help Draco now."

"Projection?"

"Again," muttered Kingsley. "Questions could be raised as how we got your image and statement for Draco's behalf."

"Damn." I gritted my teeth, shut my eyes and thought. My thoughts only muddied in the morass of migraine which continued to throb.

"We've hit the proverbial brick wall. I only thought two minds were better than one. Thus is why I came to you so we could maybe find a route-"

"I'll help."

Startled, I had heard her. From my right side, I jerked around to see Hermione with her arms wrapped about herself inside the Gryffindor quilt. In a sleepy sort of way, she smiled at me as she climbed down from her height and sat on her knees beside me.

"Hermione…," I breathed, watching her watch me with the whites dancing in her eyes. "…No, I mean-"

"Harry."

Kingsley's voice had me look at him.

"She was an option we thought of," Kingsley shook his head. "But, I knew not to bring her up. I knew you would-"

"I don't want her, too," I pushed.

"Harry…"

I looked towards Hermione.

"No," I pushed again. "No, it's too-"

Leaning into me, she took my face in her hand and gazed into my eyes. "We have to help them. What other choice do we have?"

"You can be there, Harry," noted Kingsley from within the hearth. "And Hermione is well-received to our populous for what she has done for us, too."

"Polyjuice, Harry…," I glanced back at Hermione from Kingsley. "Some cosmetic prep potions… It'll be like old times."

"But, I don't want it to be like old times, Hermione. I want us-the new times-the times where we're happy."

"We are happy," she smiled, peck-kissing my lips. The warm fire gave her hue a glow. "But…to think, love… To think of what could happen."

"Your courage is admirable, Miss Granger."

I looked between the former Minister, the leader of the Order, and my beloved, my soul mate.

"Will I come to regret this?" I asked her softly.

She shook her head, her hand running itself through my chaos of black mess. She observed me, taking note of my concern, my body language, the worry on my features. She grinned and kissed me, releasing to say close to me, her vivid cinnamon irises on fire, "It only feels right."

***

"You know," I gingerly took her waist in my hands and squeezed her. I could feel the satin black sash she wore beneath my fingertips, and that of her slenderness all in black. I'd come from the lavatory and met her in front of her vanity doing something to her hair. She stood up, and as she did looked at me.

"I really am tired of seeing you-us-in these."

For I, too, wore a black suit and tie with a bit of grey in my collared shirt.

She just smiled.

I mean, what else was there to do?

She looked to her side, leaving our reflection, to see me. Those mahogany curls shifted along that one side of her face, covering that one eye. Her lips kept the grin, however true or false the grin was. I smiled, too, and wondered the same for mine. I squeezed her again, embracing her, feeling how perfect she fit with me.

"You don't have to do-"

"But, I want to." She cut me off, watching my jade orbs observe her.

"What if-"

"You'll be there, and," she sighed, her sight lowering only but a beat. "They've done so much for me…"

Her sight lowered again, but to snap back to our level.

"…They brought you back to me." Her voice quavered.

I kissed her, bringing her to me, by fingertip-lead.

Looking deep into those large brown eyes, I said with promise, "I'll be there."

She smiled, looking down at how close our lips were. She glanced back up again. "I know you will," she expressed in a breath.

"We don't want to be late for Shade's funeral."

She shook her head.

I reached out with my hand and she took it on our way downstairs. Softly we went, our feet in pitter-patter towards the second floor. At the guest bedroom, I let Hermione go to see her, watch her crack open the silent guest bedroom. The door creaked in its old state, just enough she went about it to catch Ginevra inside. I'd thought she was about to say something to her within, but instead glanced at me from behind her beautiful tresses.

"She's still asleep," Hermione whispered, letting the door close back.

My brows rose. "She's certainly getting her shut-eye."

"She's been through a lot."

I nodded. "We'll have to leave a note."

"I'll write it while you get the broom, love."

I saw her reach out for me this time, and it wasn't but a split second where I captured hers. She smiled and we continued our quiet trek downstairs.

"One thing is for sure," she stated whilst leaving for kitchen, letting me go about checking on the broom.

"What's that?" I called from the living space, looking in the kitchen from the den at her leaned over the table scribbling with a pen our prior engagements. It wasn't like Ginny was in the dark; but, properly we told her we had gone.

She gazed from the notepad she wrote on and gave one of her signature smirks.

"One change I won't regret leaving behind is riding on brooms."

I laughed. "Why's that?"

It wasn't like they were the most comfortable, and Hermione's past with them, but…

She pointed at her attire. "This, and the uncomfortable riding up of certain…"

She looked away, only to come again. "…Unmentionables."

She was right.

And, I laughed out loud for it.

***

The light guided us to a luxuriously posh home. We saw, even at our height, the numerous vehicles surrounding the grand estate. Various coloured lights sparkled and twinkled, and as I glanced back at Hermione with a cocked brow did a broom flash passed us. She squeezed my waist from behind, the breeze the bloke brought bringing a shudder beneath our coats.

"Are we at the correct home?"

I heard her in the breeze at my ear.

"I don't know," I looked back at our trajectory, slowing down and following pace where the other broom had landed in a grassy area outside the tiered estate. "It looks like a party-feet down, love."

Mine had already lowered the moment we landed on the glistening blades, the icy grass crunching beneath our feet. We had landed behind the fellow, the man looking back and tipping his hat at us before leaving us for the stairs leading to the front doors.

"My apologies."

I just gave him a wave in response, seeing a house elf carrying away his broom into its lodging outside. The house elf had apparated back to us, but I declined his help.

"But, you are our invited guests!" the house elf complained all the while I personally set the broom in.

Of course, Hermione tried to show the meaning behind the notion to the house elf, but to no avail. The elf merely whined until I had to break Hermione away. I heard her sigh when she came along with me, gloved hand-in-gloved hand. I just chuckled for I knew the hardships of getting meaning to a stubborn house elf, even to a member of S.P.E.W.

"Is that-"

"Yeah," I shook my head in astonishment the farther up we climbed, stair-by-stair. Lights flashed from the windows, and there was…music, very raucous with a beat and tempo anything like any other funeral we had ever been to throughout our young lives.

"I hear Shade's voice."

We had to stop as some others were being greeted at the door, others who chose to drive here instead of flight. They'd lead us up the stairs and to the door. I looked over at Hermione who was in just as much surprise as I was. I hadn't even wrapped my mind around the event, hearing again the hesitance of Hermione if we had even arrived at the right home when we noticed.

"Miss Granger!" exclaimed a woman in sheer happiness. Before I could respond, or Hermione, the woman had embraced her out of my grip.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" Hermione looked over at me in an attempt to seek sympathy at just how tight the woman had hugged her. I shrugged until she saw me, too, and came about to embrace me just the same.

She released me, and I could breathe on my own once more. "Who is this fit young gentleman?"

"Um?"

She had turned to Hermione's verbal contemplation, the woman seemingly having a sort of similarity to…

"Oh! My apologies-I'm Zoe's sister, Gail. And this," she motioned over towards something, or someone, until a man dressed for the occasion broke from another couple to join her. "This is Simon, my husband."

"Nice to meet you two, Miss Granger and," he went to shake Hermione's hand when he looked at me, a hand out.

"James," I noted, shaking Simon's hand.

Hermione smiled aside me.

Having symbols of my past gone, it wasn't but a simple cosmetic potion brewed by my intelligent fiance to pacify the masses. Thankfully, I hadn't needed to taste the dreaded polyjuice.

"I know Zoe is smiling somewhere seeing you two had shown up to celebrate her life," exclaimed the grinning sister.

"We haven't, I mean-" Hermione stumbled to set her words straight, not to offend.

"What she means is we really have never-" I tried to finish Hermione's thoughts and sentence when Gail made a laugh.

"This isn't our first rowboat," the ecstatic sister joked.

Hermione and I shot a quizzical glance at each other.

"You see," Gail began explaining. "My sister's life was filled with happiness and love, and she tried to touch every soul she met with that purpose. So, at her end, our family thought she would have loved us celebrating her life the way she led hers."

"We've shed so many tears," she said further. "That now it's time for Zoe and her wishes: to dance, to sing, to be happy, and to praise life for we only have one to live."

"Besides," she ended. "We're not afraid of Death Eaters."

"We're just so sorry…," Hermione stepped forward and hugged Gail. "She was an inspiration, to a lot of people and me."

Gail rubbed Hermione's back and gave a pat. "Come in," she took Hermione by the hand and motioned over at me with urgency behind the entire jubilee. "You've both to meet the family, to join in our reverie, and to rejoice in life with us!"

***

Hermione was right.

Between meeting everyone-and there were tons-she said something very true:

"This is exactly what Shade would have wanted."

For you see, Shade Epsilon-Zoe Reynolds-was anything but normal.

And, that wasn't bad at all.

She was eccentric.

Happy, always content with everything she did.

She gave everything she could to life, and to the people, her fans included.

And now we-we kept her joy alive.

We ended up with Gail and Simon, and others from her family and friends on the dance floor. The whole floor, for there wasn't but a few sitting at the surrounding tables. Beneath an enormously beautiful, crystal chandelier with three dozen lights illuminating our ambient atmosphere, we danced. I didn't know what I was doing, and to Gail's coaxing that was exactly what was right. That, like in life, we don't know what we're doing-we just do what we know, what we feel is right. That, we're not perfect, like our dance moves-and mine were horrible.

Hilariously horrible, and I was laughing beneath the cheerfully optimistic rhythms with Hermione. She was with me, with us, all of us for the whole room bewitched with the celebratory craze. We all did our own thing, but in unison, together. The Northern Soul-like moves, throwing ourselves with the pulses, twisting and turning, kicking our feet up with the beats of Shade Epsilon-inspired music. Some even did spins, kicks, and back-flips-I wasn't going to even attempt a back-flip.

One would think, seeing everyone how they were, in their dress that we were at a funeral.

No, we were at something much more.

We were living our lives to the fullest.

Like Zoe.

***

The frivolity had lessened into the night. Some guests began to leave. Hermione and I had reserved seats with the Reynolds' family. We were talking in whispers to them, and to Simon who just so happened to have a hobby in Quidditch like myself-a near obsession. We were talking about the teams, who we thought might win the next World Cup. I hadn't noticed Gail had gotten up onto a stage-like area of the spacious room until I heard the clink-clink of a glass and that of hushes from the crowd.

I took Hermione in hand and held her beneath the table while Gail spoke of Zoe to us. What Zoe had done for the community, what her sister tried to do for the world, her numerous charity organizations and how her latest one with breast cancer gave St. Mungo's research healers a better chance in finding a cure. She spoke of her sister in their younger years, when they were at a magic school much like Hogwarts in Australia. How Zoe had left Australia to come back to her birthplace, her home country, to give back.

I caught Hermione when a tear fell and peck-kissed her cheek.

Our seats were close, so she hadn't a distance when she leaned into my right side. I cradled her before I heard her name. Gail had said something, caught again in Hermione, giving her a napkin to dab her face clean. Hermione hadn't known what was coming, being as much unaware as I had been. She'd said something about Hermione, about this "Punk Fiction", and how Zoe had followed them up until their hiatus, their number one fan.

"Hermione, I'm sorry for putting you on the spot like this," Gail continued on the stage-like structure.

We looked between each other, Hermione and I.

I hadn't a clue what was going on, and Hermione looked just as dumbfounded by the sudden spotlight.

All eyes were on her, us.

"But, Val is here, and-would it be too much to ask for a song? Your biggest fan would've loved to hear one last song from her biggest obsession, Punk Fiction."

Hermione's eyes were wide, gazing onward at Gail and the guests waiting for a response with bated breath.

"Hermione!" I called out for her for she began to move, get up from her chair. The guests around us started clapping, and I noticed another woman, a tall, slim figure get up, too. The woman was greeted with a guitar.

Hermione flipped to me, and in our whispers said, "I've got to do something, Harry-I can't just…not!"

"But-!"

"Even if it's just-I don't know-something!"

"Hermione-!" I tried to get at her again, but she had moved beyond my reach by this point.

She maneuvered around the tables and across what used to be the grand dance floor. I could tell she was nervous. Hell, I was nervous enough for her. My head began to hurt, as if a void tried to fill itself somewhere. I was confused as I tried to piece things together.

I saw Hermione do a lot of her apprehensive twitching: playing with her hair, fidgeting her fingers, walking maybe a little too fast towards the stage…

I tried to play everything off cool and began clapping along with Simon who had nudged me from his side.

"Zoe loved her," he told me.

I clapped, and put on my best smile-all the while in a complete fog.

I saw her speak to Gail who handed her the microphone, and then saw them hug onstage. I saw the other female, "Val", speak to her, too. I saw them exchange greetings, saw Hermione place her hand on her forehead amongst the guests continuous applause. Val put her hand on Hermione's shoulder, and then moved forward to embrace her as well. Val caressed my beloved's forehead when they released, and then gave another exchange: a piece of paper.

I saw Hermione read whatever it was, and then nod after a pause.

Val pointed over at Gail who had stepped down from the stage and nodded, too, at Hermione.

Gail had placed a stool for her, and Val sat in another aside Hermione.

As Val set her guitar in her lap, at the ready, Hermione quietly said into the microphone:

"H-Hello everyone."

She sort of gave a smile, and tucked that hair behind her ear.

The applause had stopped for the two girls, waiting, again, with anticipation.

I gulped.

That was my woman after all.

I didn't want her embarrassed, and began thinking of ways to take her away from the situation if it got worse.

"I just want to thank Gail and the Reynolds' family," began Hermione with a tidbit of anxiousness in her tone. "For everything they've done tonight. I-"

Applause roared again at Hermione's words, and she was stopped and smiled shyly.

Val put her hand on Hermione's back and gave it a rub, looking over at her.

"I wasn't really ready for this," Hermione resumed, in honesty. "But I'll try my very best to sing something in memory of Zoe."

Some of the guests encouraged Hermione with a few "You got this's!" and "We're here with you's!"

"She was just as much an inspiration for me as everyone else has said I was to her, so," Hermione stated sweetly into the microphone. "Thank you. Again. For everything."

Applause filled the room once more until Val began strumming her guitar, plucking the strings with delicate ease. She looked down at her prowess, and back up at Hermione who had looked over at her. Val nodded and gave a smile.

Hermione put the microphone up to her lips and closed her eyes.

"There are loved ones in the glory…whose dear forms you often miss… When you close your earthly story, will you join them in their bliss…?"

Hermione and Val swapped modest smiles within their spotlight.

A shiver ran up my spine.

My love couldn't have sounded more angelic.

"Will the circle be unbroken, by and by…by and by? Is a better home awaiting in the sky…in the sky?"

***

Ginny and Hermione were talking amongst themselves and the television when I came downstairs. The moment my boots hit the bottom from the last step they abruptly stopped, or Hermione did, flipping around to stare at me from the sofa. I'd been adjusting and readjusting my black tie behind a simple grey jacket. My pin-striped trousers fit to my form, knowing, too, that Hermione knew that especially. While getting dressed, she'd pinched my bum in them while I did my thing in the mirror. We were going to see her parents, and I wanted to be in tip-top shape.

Hermione had lifted from the sofa the moment I'd come in, and around the corner she went. I didn't really concentrate on what they were saying, Hermione and Gin going on about tonight and dinner, when she was at my tie. She smacked my hands away and centred the tie, sliding her hand down the silk to have the cloth wrinkle-free.

She smiled at me when I rolled my eyes and huffed.

Finally, I succumbed to her smile, smiling too in the end at my lovely brunette. A little number on her, she went to match my colour of blacks, greys, and whites. Closer to her calves, the dress set in tiers with each tier becoming more and more transparent from its opaque original. Her smirk perked me up, and leaning in, placing my hands on her bare shoulders did I kiss her.

I heard Ginny's gagging noises from the sofa.

"Get a room."

I made a laugh.

Hermione did, too, looking over at Gin still on the sofa.

Gin remained in her pyjamas, being comfortable, having Number Twelve to herself-well, her and Crookshanks whom she held.

I was fixing her two black straps when she addressed Ginevra's gag, "I'm sure we won't be too late. Daddy enjoys his sleep on the weekends. And, closing in on the new year, there's always this bustle in getting teeth checked and cleaned."

"You know how to contact us if anything happens," I added, slipping my hands down my woman's figure. I held her middle, another satin sash of salt-and-pepper fitting the thin, hourglass-shape of Hermione.

I saw, and heard, Gin roll her eyes and exasperate rather poignantly. "Yes mum. Yes dad. Do I also have a curfew or can me and Billy see the movie at nine at the drive-in? I swear I'll be home by eleven!"

"Oh, Gin…," Hermione, too, rolled her eyes and let out a huff.

Hermione left me for her purse, and I played along with Gin.

I pointed at her as she watched us leave. "Make it ten-thirty, and not a minute late or you're not seeing Billy for a week!"

"Oh dad!" she whined, crossing her arms and pouting.

I laughed on my way out behind Hermione, tossing an ivory scarf about my neck to keep the fall chill away.

***

Shifting gears to pass a car going rather slow, my sight removed itself for a moment to see Hermione's gloved hand reach out and change the music. She wasn't settled for what was on channel two of my BMW's stations and went onto the third, and then the fourth before she heard the Smashing Pumpkins. I smirked, the streetlights and headlights glazing over the clear windshield. The light would brighten us, elevating the distinguished blue hue inside the vehicle.

With a full moon overhead, and what stars could be seen, we set out into the night.

But the question had yet to be asked.

What was on my mind, of many things, since the funeral-celebration-of Shade Epsilon earlier in the day.

"So," I'd begun. Hermione quickly looked at me, and then quickly turned the volume of 1979 down.

"Yes?" she replied, placing her arm on the armrest between us.

"This morning-you were marvelous, really."

I caught her grin, her look down, humble, and then back up at me.

"My nerves were a complete wreck up there."

"You were great," I turned to smile at her before decelerating into a red light. I looked back at her, "Honestly."

"Mm…," She smiled and tucked that piece of hair back behind her ear. She observed me like her experiment until she asked the inevitable, very Hermione-like, "What's on your mind, love?"

"What was all that about? You," The light switched to green and we were off again. I glanced at her, and then back at the road. "You were in a band? When?"

She shrugged. "I haven't the slightest clue other than the piece of paper she gave me."

"The album cover of `Punk Fiction'."

"With Ginny, and three other girls-Val, the woman with me at the Reynolds' home," She sighed, annoyed. Her mind had been racing too, surely. The incredibly audible sigh gave off the resonance as such. I saw her in my peripheral, and as I checked the rearview mirror, she placed her hand on her forehead.

"Every time I think-or try to think-about it all…"

"Headaches."

She looked back over at me in quiet, and stayed that way while I drove onward for a while.

"Yeah," she eventually said, subdued.

"Which could mean-"

"Obliviation."

I shot another glance at her at my side when she said that, and had to nod.

"Maybe, if you wanted," I jested in a bit of smile. At least to break another ominous silence, us two in deep thought-deep enough for our hands to go to our foreheads.

My eyes wandered back to her that minute. "You could always go back into entertainment. You've always wanted to do that. Your passion."

She just rolled her eyes.

"Who knows…" she muttered, looking off into her window at the London city limits blurring by.

***

We were caught in a moment of laughter. Frederick, Mister Granger had just made a joke in the surreal moment: the white, soft leather chairs, the venetian red tablecloth, the ricotta plates, stainless steel utensils, and the centrepiece of roses and lit, champagne candles. All the while we felt as if we were floating, and that wasn't just the wine. Encompassing the restaurant were large, rectangular pieces of glass looking out over the London skyline at night. Every light was on, like flickering, manmade stars of the city.

At our square table sat Mister and Missus Granger, and we sat close, too. Close enough to hold hands, our feet brushing up against each other, a lingering lay of crossing calves beneath the table, and playful dances of fingers intertwined in full exposure. Hermione couldn't stop laughing, another joke about some dentistry-something. I didn't really get it, but smiled along with them, and her. We had our hands together, holding one another above, below, everywhere. I felt of her engagement ring on her finger, and smiled more as I watched her take another sip of her wine amongst discussing daily events with her parents.

"Son."

We'd been laughing so hard that the corners of my mouth hurt.

I had to wipe the tears out of my eyes.

"Yes sir?" I said whilst wiping them with the backside of my free hand.

Frederick leaned back in his chair and sized me up a bit. I could see him and Emilie's hands together like ours, and noticed Emilie so much like her daughter watch him curiously with a similar signature smirk on her face.

"You've been with my baby girl for a while now."

"And," I said without hesitation. "I've loved every day."

I glanced over at Hermione when I said this, and behind those locks glowed her smile, white teeth and all.

I looked back across the table at Mister Granger when he started again, "Isn't it about time you two get married?"

"Daddy!" Hermione made a laugh.

"So tactful, Freddie," laughed Emilie, too.

"What?" Frederick chuckled, absent-mindedly messing with his navy tie.

Navy had been their colour palette for tonight as Emilie wore a dress of the same shade of blue.

Frederick motioned across the table at me, looking over at his wife, "He put a ring on my baby girl, and-"

"We're ready when you are," I answered before he could get everything out. We looked at each other in grin, Hermione and I. I felt her squeeze my hand beneath the table and play with the space between my index and middle fingers, running her finger along the slight webbing. "We could wed tomorrow."

"But," Hermione began, looking over at her parents. "The family. We want everyone here."

"And, with what happened-or didn't happen-last time," she added. "We really don't care where anymore. Well, I don't."

She looked over at me and I shook my head. I gazed back over at Frederick and Emilie. "Not that it shouldn't be special. We-I-I just love the family and, too, want every Granger to be there."

"Have you two thought of another date?" asked Emilie in question.

I shrugged, looked over at Hermione who did the same.

"Tomorrow?" Hermione smiled at the thought, smiling over at me behind the candlelight.

Emilie chuckled. "Not quite, Cupcake… Freddie?"

She looked over at her husband. "Any ideas?"

"Hm…," Mister Granger went into contemplation, gazing up toward the ceiling with a hand to his chin.

Hermione teased the palm of my hand all the while, bringing a slight shiver of my form. She giggled with subtlety when she felt me.

I just looked over at her and winked, looking back over at Frederick when he resumed his thought.

"Well…," he made a sort of nod at nothing in particular. Inside, the language resembled ping-pong, a go-between on various thoughts as he tried to narrow them down to one, solitary answer for everyone.

"Christmas is definitely a day where we know the family is together." He looked over at Emilie who smiled. She looked so enamored at Frederick, and so much like Hermione towards me. "What do you think, hun?"

"What about the church?" She asked her husband, and then looked over at us. "The church? Father Edwards would be happy to do the ceremony."

"Father Edwards is still there?" Hermione inquired in the revelation. "He must be at least seventy-something by now!"

"He asks about you and how you're fairing every Sunday, baby girl," acknowledged Frederick. He had wrapped an arm around Emilie when she moved, leaning into him. I saw the corner of Mister Granger's lip twitch into a smirk when he added, too, "He also asks why you haven't been to church in so long."

"Well, other than the obvious…" she looked over at me, leaning, too, like her mother on me. I took advantage and also wrapped an arm about her. She made a laugh under her breath. "Little busy since…"

"We tell him," Emilie let her daughter off the hook. She sort of nudged her husband for the banter. "Your father is just picking on you. It's not a big deal, and-"

"What if we go-" I started, and felt Hermione look at me. Gazing down at her first, I then looked back over at them. "I mean, see the church, meet Father Edwards. I'd like to at least shake the gentleman's hand who will help in the ceremony."

I knew Hermione smiled, and felt her, too.

She embraced me where she was, giving my back a rub.

"Well, we have a service tomorrow," noted Frederick. "You're more than welcome to come join us. We'll be there at eight when service begins, and I'm sure Father Edwards will be utterly delighted to see how big my baby girl has grown-and her soon-to-be husband, and my soon-to-be son."

I grinned at the acceptance of Hermione's father, and the smile of Hermione's mother.

"What do you think, love?" I asked Hermione who, I noticed quickly, was watching me from her height at my shoulder.

She nodded in smile. "I think it'll be wonderful."

"Then," I smiled back at her parents, my soon-to-be parents, "We'll see you in the morning."

***

"Look Harry," she said as I shut the door, having gone around to open the door for her. She had a hand on my chest while the other pointed at the sky. I glanced up at her, her rosy cheeks beneath a grey beanie, her action. I saw, too, what she saw:

Tiny white dots mixed with the severely dark sky, bringing a certain light to the blackness overhead. The streetlamps made each individual white speck its own star, twinkling while they fell down to earth.

I looked down, at her big, beautiful eyes.

She was smiling.

I smiled.

Her hands were off me, her arms open as she twirled around in the lawn before Number Twelve's magicks.

She laughed in her smile.

I saw her eyes closed as she spun in her happiness, the snow spinning with her in the slight winds she created. I swore in that moment watching her that she was more than this, of this earth, a spiritual being-more than "human". And, that feeling did things to me. I could feel my heart beat, its thump mimicking how I felt-in love. In love with this otherworldly form moving so carefree, so contently in the falling snow.

When she stopped, she smirked that signature smirk of hers.

The time it took me to be with her, to have her and to hold her was but in a blink's time. I took her face in my gloved hands and kissed her.

I let her linger in her smile, leaving her with one.

Her animated eyes reopened to me, those pools of the dramatic brown colour, of brilliant cinnamon with fleck of gold seen when one was up close. They were lively and lit.

"I have never loved anybody more than I have loved you."

I said this in our small distance.

I could tell…

Watching her bite down on her bottom lip and look at me in that way.

That she couldn't be happier.

And, that made me happy.

***

"Brrr!"

Having more layers of clothing on, and that of a perfectly fit salt-and-pepper wool coat on, Hermione came in to give me a rub down. She ran her hands over my biceps, the triceps, my arms through my suit jacket. We stood in the hallway going into Number Twelve for the moment, embracing, really, at the end. The procession of warming each other became a hug, and then a kiss, before she turned around and I took her hand.

"I believe a nice, long hot shower is in order for both of us…," she turned back around at me, our hands still loosely together until she broke away from me. She turned completely around and walked backwards, all the while still in that smirk from earlier.

"Mmm," I followed in her pleasure, slipping off my gloves.

"You think?" I asked, rhetorically, of course, when she stopped at the end of the hallway.

We were standing together again.

And, she was looking up at me in the smirk.

She was about to say something, her hand going to my jacket when we heard a noise.

Crying.

On the sofa.

I hadn't even seen the back of her head until now.

The television was off.

No fire.

A single, solitary light on in the kitchen gave just enough light to filter into the den.

"Ginny…?" Hermione was off, removing from me.

I followed her to the sofa, but only until its backside where I stood behind Gin. To the side, where she could see me. The Weasley hadn't heard us, too, I guessed as she flipped around at me in shock. And then at Hermione who had come into view.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed, jumping to her feet at us. She'd flipped around and, through more tears, pointed at both of us. "LEAVE ME ALONE!!"

"It was your fault!" she pointed at Hermione first. Hermione had halted her tracks, her hand on the left armrest in her stance. She looked at me, and then back to Gin.

Gin thrust a finger at me, too. "And yours!"

"But no-no one can touch the Savior of the wizarding world, the glorified Barbie and Ken dolls!"

"I hate you!" she spat at me.

Between her shouts I took note of the piece of parchment in her hands, and the sheen of the Ministry's wax seal in the faint light.

"Hun, what-"

Hermione tried to understand the situation, the upheaval and all of Gin's found accusations of hatred when she was forced to stop her questioning.

"It's as much your fault as it is his!" Gin lashed out.

"Hey!" I yelled now. Gin turned away from Hermione and narrowed her reddened eyes at me. "Explain yourself before you start-!"

"I don't have to explain anything to you-any of you!" She shouted more, pointed more. "You were given the second chance he never will! You're always given the chances no one ever will! I hate you!"

She picked up a sofa cushion and threw it at me.

When I caught it, my mind had caught up.

This wasn't about us.

This was about…

Neville.

"You're not as perfect as you think you are!" she said, scathingly, and then to Hermione. "You're not the poster children you think you are!"

"You're both freaks-freaks!" she continued, screaming. "Not perfect-you're not perfect!"

"Hermione," I stated coolly. I glanced over at my beloved who I could tell, with a hand to her trembling lips, she knew why Gin was having the fallout. The parchment in her hand…

"Go upstairs," I motioned with my head, and then shot a glimpse upwards. "I'll be right behind you."

"Yeah! Go! GO!!" Ginny's voice began to tear by her sheer pitch. "Both of you! Get out of my face!!"

"Harry, shouldn't we-?"

"Go," I was calm, collected. I never raised my voice but that one time when she went after Hermione. "I said I'd be right behind you."

"I promise." I looked Hermione in the eyes when I said this, keeping eye contact with her to show no falsehoods along the breadth of our distance.

She merely nodded in acknowledgement, acceptance, and wondered to the staircase.

I waited until I knew she was at the second landing, hearing and seeing Gin breathe in heaves. Her chest rose and fell considerably. Trying to keep the peace, for I knew things could get out of control fast-as they have-I went to place the sofa cushion back to hear her curse me under her breath.

I looked at her when she did, my hand leaving where I had placed the cushion to express in a volume enough for both of us to hear:

"This is my house, Gin. It's mine," I saw her seething and paid no bother. "You're welcome to continue living here, but I don't ever want you to take your anger out on Hermione. She's loved you, and loves you. She's your best friend. If you hate me for whatever reason, that's fine; but, she stays out of it, do you understand?"

"I…," she was breathless, hiccupping between words as she gulped for air from her cry. "I-Hate-you."

"And that's fine."

"He shouldn't-be-here!"

"You know what was said yesterday, but I'll say it again. You are family. If you want to be. And Hermione and I will be with you through anything and everything."

She started crying again, hugging, holding the piece of Ministry-emblazoned parchment to her chest.

I started to walk away, and when I hit the first step of many to the third floor did I look back at Gin. She stayed with me, her eyes following me out. With my hand on the banister, I asked, mild mannered, "…When is it?"

The silence between us was only broken by the noises of her catching her breath.

"Tomorrow…," her voice came out deafly. "…Evening."

My look persisted on her, my mind reeling with yet another…funeral…

I nodded at her, to show more than I'd been listening, and said sincerely, "Get some rest, Gin. And, if you're to stay down here, put a fire on, please."

"I wouldn't want you to catch cold," I ended, leaving for the bedroom.

***

I heard the shower running.

She left the door of the bedroom open for me, and when I entered, having loosened my tie and relieved myself of my jacket, closed the door behind. The sound of the door shutting had first the shadow of her come to fruition in the dimly lit master bedroom, and then her figure appear in the lavatory doorway. She'd taken off the winter wear, disrobed down to her dress. A heel was in her hand, and the other went for its twin as she balanced on the door frame.

"The verdict?" she asked with a tinge of uneasiness. I couldn't see her face, her hair cascading down her front while she took off the second heel. She flipped her hair back when she stood up, and I had my tie off and in my hands with the jacket.

I went over bedside and threw the articles on the made bed and said, while doing so, in a matter-of-fact tone, "I told her what she already knew."

I glanced back at my beloved, unfastening the buttons of my dress shirt beginning from the top. "Now it's up to her to figure things out."

"I feel for her, Harry," Hermione remained under the lavatory entry, playing subconsciously with her heels in her hands. I knew of her trepidation for I had the same feeling, too. "I do."

"I wish I could take away all her pain," she said while watching me wander over to her. I had the shirt undone, and as I wandered over threw the shirt back behind me on the bed.

"Because I remember the pain, too; and, I wish I-"

Placing my hands on her shoulders led her to halt those words. I hadn't really known the route she chose to walk, but I didn't want to know either way. All I knew, and wanted to know, was that the woman in front of me was there. And, that by touch as well as all the rest of the five senses I unequivocally knew she was there.

Combing my fingers through the fringe of her hair and back, I watched her close her eyes, and then reopen them.

She watched me, letting me at my actions.

"May I join you inside?"

She smiled, my hands framing her beautiful face.

"I'd have waited for you."

We stood together as one.

"At least until the hot water ran out…"

I rolled my eyes and smiled.

She smiled, too.

I kissed her, and she fell into my kiss.

When we broke away, I asked again, "Shall we?"

She nodded.

I followed her into the lavatory and shut the door behind.

***

{Author's Note: I wanted this chapter to simply be about Hermione and Harry. There will be more about the outside world and its characters following, but I felt the need to shine the spotlight back on them. Life has big changes for me outside of writing fanfiction, so I'm trying over time to write a little which is what I've done here to get a chapter out. I hope you enjoyed more HHr.}

{Music Inspirations: It Must Have Been Love by Roxette, A Thousand Years by Christina Perri, Counting Stars by One Republic, Love Me Again by John Newman (Zoe's funeral/ dance scene), Will The Circle Be Unbroken from the Bioshock Infinite soundtrack, 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins, Midnight City by M83, Nothing Compares to You by Sinead O'Connor (Gin's fallout scene), One Headlight by The Wallflowers (Gin's fallout scene)}

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7

-->