Good News

xelan

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 26/06/2010
Last Updated: 08/07/2011
Status: in_progress

A/U. Ron has been traveling trying to find himself for over a year. Now he has some good news that he's sure Hermione will want to hear. If he can find her, that is. Mild to Moderate Ron bashing ahead. H/Hr. NOT an Affair Fic.

Chapters

1. Back Again and the Straw

2. Resigned Stoop Ball

3. Reupload of Duck Bank Ill

4. Renaissance Parent Ice Prefects

1. Back Again and the Straw

by Xelan (devote Harmonian)

Dislaimer: I own nothing. All recognizable characters are owned by their respective owners.

A/N: I have begun to actively dislike Ron Weasley and now wish Jo had killed off Ron in OoTP, but that's just my opinion.

Takes place Post-Hogwarts with DH never taking place. Non canon compliant. Mild to moderate Ron bashing ahead. Harmonious ending. I also take a few potshots at Jo. Thanks to Seel'vor for inspiration.

I reference some of the Goblet of Fire but this is an AU and this Harry took his Hermione to the ball. I generally dislike the last two books as well as parts of OoTP and I refuse to acknowledge the existence of The Epilogue.

I should apologize in advance. I'm not British, but I do try and keep my characters souding as authentic as possible. My command of British English is imperfect to say the least, so take everything with a grain of salt and if I stumble, please politely correct me.

A/N Succinct version: Hated Jo’s ending, my Hermione’s middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion.

Please review as comments and criticism help fuel the creative process.

<::::}]Present Day[{::::>

"Hermione! Come out, Hermione. I have WONDERFUL NEWS!" shouted the red-headed fool. He glanced around the empty flat. His key hadn't worked and the only unlocking spell he'd ever bothered to learn (courtesy of Hermione) had been necessary to enter the small one bedroom flat. Undaunted by the changed lock, lack of furnishings or signs of inhabitation, he dashed through the rooms looking for Hermione.

After searching through each room 3 times, opening and inspecting each closet 5 times, and peering into the strange muggle version of a wood burning stove 10 times, he finally gave up searching and sat on the floor to wait for her to return home.

Ron waited throughout the night and into the next morning. The only respite to his vigil was when he stopped into the loo to do his business, the half dozen short naps he had taken, and when he apparated over to the leaky cauldron to order take out. Unfortunately for him, the water had been turned off and he never quite got the hang of the waste banishing spell while at Hogwarts; the WC was really starting to smell like a bog now. Harry and Hermione had usually done the difficult spellwork, leaving him more time to devote to the finer things in life. Ah Quidditch, chess and food. Where would he be now if he hadn't devoted so much time to those noble persuits? To his dismay, the floor was too hard to be comfortable and he couldn't rememeber the incantation for the cushioning charm. To top that off, Tom was not as terribly keen on providing free food to a war hero as he should be. Finally, after pestering him for several hours, Ron was given several abandoned food orders so long as he promised to leave.

Standing up from where he had sat himself down to wait and gobble his food, Ron stretched and brushed crumbs from his robes. He wiped his greasy finger on his pants and straightened his collar. "Can't meet up with Hermione looking like something the kneazle dragged in, especially with the exciting news I have for her."

He decided to put to work his mighty brain and puzzle out the mystery of why Hermione wasn't home yet. Truly a quandry that only his incredible noggin was capable of solving. He began to pace and talk aloud to himself. "Let's see now. The lock's been changed, her furniture is missing as well as all her clothes and other muggle nicknacks she's so fond of." Gosh, such a difficult mystery. "No bellybision or fellytone, no food in the icebox and neither the WC or any of the taps work."

Small wisps of smoke began to float from his ears as his scarce and seldom used brain cells began to warm up from long disuse. A tiny candle appeared over his head and at that moment, it all became clear to him. "Of course! I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. Hermione must have been robbed!" He nodded to himself. That fit all the available facts. Hermione'd be so proud of him when he told her how he'd puzzled it out. Now all he had to do was find her so he could tell her his news and then she could be suitably proud of him. Yessir, once Hermione heard what Ronald Bilius Weasley had to say, she could finally stop working as a prosecutor for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Sure, Harry'd probably miss seeing her every day seeing as he was an auror captain last time Ron had checked; though, that was a few years ago so it was possible he'd made Head Auror by now. But that was neither here nor there. He just had to find Hermione.

He began to pace again. Of course, he was still thinking out loud. "Okay. Hermione was robbed. Where would she go if every single thing she owned was taken from her? Hmm... the burrow? Naw, she and my mum haven't been getting along since... well, I guess since never. Her muggle relatives? There's just no way. I mean, they're muggles. Why in Merlin's name would she willingly hang out with muggles. Yech! Wait a minute. I seem to vaguely recall Harry spending a lot of time here at Hermione's.

Lord knows I kept bumping into his things around her flat whenever I came to visit. Why muggle borns insist on keeping one goosebrush per person on tiny little shelves by the sink is beyond me. I remember asking her once why they just didn't share one if they were so determined to hold onto their muggle roots. Then they just looked at each other with peculiar expressions and the next time I visited there was only one. What would they do without me? Probably a toilet full to the brim with useless muggle stuff. Come to think of it, I never did understand why she got so excited about that huge set of monogrammed towels Harry gave her for Christmas one year. She mumbled something about them coming in handy in the future, but it’s so easy to conjure towels and monogramming isn’t that hard. At least that's what mum says. Anyway, monogrammed towels with the initials HJ slightly offset can't match the 3 boxes of Droobles best blowing gum I bought her. If I didn't know better, I might suspect Harry cheaped out and just gave her a set he hadn't used yet. Besides, anyone can see how much she loves chewing gum, I mean she was always chewing at meal times back at Hogwarts... can't specifically recall if it was gum or not, but she WAS chewing."

"Getting distracted... gotta focus. Have to think like Hermione. After all, no one knows her better than me." A little voice in the back of his head that suspiciously sounded exactly like Hermione whispered 'Harry does...' but Ron had always been good at ignoring the real Hermione's advice. He wasn't going to let some figment Hermione ruin his unblemished record.

"Now what was I saying before Hermione interrupted me? Oh yeah. Have to use my intimate knowledge of Hermione's life to figure out where she's gone off to." Considering the matter carefully, another candle lit about his head and an answer came to him even more obvious than the last. Harry Potter. "Of course! She must be at Harry's place. He has all that room up in Grimmauld place, even more so since Hermione helped him clean house, knock down some walls and redecorate. In fact, as Ron thought back, he could recall a room that was close to Harry's that Harry had offered for Hermione to use back when she was first apartment hunting. Ron didn't know why she needed a room there, after all, she was still rooming with her muggle relatives at the time and as far as Ron could tell, she never slept there. The room was always too pristine when he'd seen it. All she seemed to use was the closet, and Ron had begun to joke that with as many clothes as she had at Grimmauld, she probably was running low in her own flat.

Funny, to his amusement his unbelievably powerful mind had returned to the topic of bath towels, he idly wondered if Harry's gift of towels had also been stolen by the thieves. On reflection, their color matched the tiles in the toilet that was shared between Harry and Hermione's rooms at Grimmauld. What a coincidence - now it really would be a shame if they had been stolen.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the peculiar thoughts of towels, he wiped the last of the grease from the fish and chips into his already greasy hair and apparated to Grimmauld to find Hermione and deliver the good news.

At least he thought he apparated to Grimmauld, when he bounced off the wards and found himself on the front lawn. Chalking it up to Harry mucking about with the wards and forgetting to add him back in, he went to the door to let himself in. Again his key didn't work but this time neither did the Alohamora. Reduced to needing to knock, Ron did so then he waited.

<::::}]2 Years 9 Months 3 Days Previous[{::::>

"Harry."

"uugh?"

"Harry."

"Waah?" *snore*

"Harry wake up."

"Wa - Hermione?"

"We did it again. "

"Oh bugger."

"I know. I really thought we had it this time."

Harry absently nuzzled the top of Hermione's head as he pondered the situation. In turn, Hermione nestled herself deeper into the crook of Harry's arms.

Harry had yet to open his eyes as he began to gently stroke Hermione's back through her sheer nightgown. "I'm guessing I'm in your room this time?"

Hermione chuckled. "Yeah, how could you tell?"

"Easy. Your bed's a bit lumpier than mine."

Hermione lightly batted him on the shoulder. "Prat!" she said in a joking tone.

Harry breathed in deeply, enjoying the sweet and spicy scent of Hermione's hair. Shower or no shower, God she smelled good.

Hermione just sighed contentedly and started to trace a pattern on his bare chest with her fingertip. "What are we going to do, Harry?"

He eyed the bedside clock, squinting to see without his glasses. "I don't know about you, but it is still the middle of the night and I really don't think I can come up with any reasonable ideas until morning."

Hermione yawned cutely and Harry tried valiantly to suppress a smile at how perfect and how awful their situation was at the same time. He drew her closer to him and he heard her let out another contented sigh.

With legs intertwined and a profound sense of peace and a tiny twinge of dread, Harry began to feel himself drifting off to sleep.

"Night night, Harry James..."

"Sleep tight, Hermione Jane..."

They would just have to deal with it in the morning.

<::::}]To Be Continued[{::::>

2. Resigned Stoop Ball

by Xelan (devote Harmonian)

Dislaimer: I own nothing. All recognizable characters are owned by their respective owners.

A/N: I have begun to actively dislike Ron Weasley and now wish Jo had killed off Ron in OoTP, but that's just my opinion.

Takes place Post-Hogwarts with DH never taking place. Non canon compliant. Mild to moderate Ron bashing ahead. Harmonious ending. I also take a few potshots at Jo.

I reference some of the Goblet of Fire but this is an AU and this Harry took his Hermione to the ball. I generally dislike the last two books as well as parts of OoTP and I refuse to acknowledge the existence of The Epilogue.

My command of British English is imperfect to say the least, so take everything with a grain of salt and if I stumble, please politely correct me.

Apologies right off the bat. I have nicked, yes, essentially stolen a line almost verbatim from Agent Seeley Booth (played by David Boreanaz) in the television series Bones S5E16.

A/N Succinct version: Hated Jo’s ending, my Hermione’s middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion.

Please review as comments and criticism help fuel the creative process.

<::::}]2 Years 9 Months 2 Days before Present[{::::>

"This has been coming a long time. You know when you talk to older couples who have been in love for thirty or forty or even fifty years? It's always the guy who says "I knew." ... I knew, right from the beginning. Hermione, I'm that guy."

"Harry, that doesn't happen in real life." She shook her head sadly. "Not to us. Not to people like you and me.” She brought her hand up to cup his cheek. “Before we had even finished school we took down the most powerful dark lord in history, and now you catch dark wizards and I send them Azkaban. We’re just...” and she paused for a moment as if the words she was about to speak hurt to come out of her mouth. “We’re just Harry and Hermione. We’re co-workers, and we’re best friends, but we can’t be more than that, Harry. We just can’t be.”

“Maybe you don’t understand… it’s been just Harry and Hermione since I was eleven. I don’t…” His right hand clenched and unclenched. “I can’t…” And Harry just trailed off. Mouth opening and closing, struggling for words he couldn’t find and thoughts that were bordering on blasphemy for a man of his position.

Harry’s own hand came up to rest over hers. Looking directly at her and in a tone that brooked no contradiction he spoke. “I don’t remember who I was before Harry AND Hermione. I can’t imagine there NOT being Harry and Hermione. Don't you see? There IS no Harry without Hermione.”

He took a deep breath and squared his jaw. Hermione looked thoughtful, her teeth worrying her lower lip.

"I've decided to resign from the DMLE."

The pronouncement stopped both of them cold. Not because the news was shocking but simply because they both said it at the same time.

After a pause, they both spoke again "But, you can't!" in eerie synchronicity.

They both opened their mouths to speak, but upon seeing the other about to do the same they stopped. Their faces shone with frustration and amusement.

Harry delicately grasped Hermione's face and kissed her until her knees started to become weak.

Resting his forehead against hers, with deliberate slowness, Harry spoke, “I’m quitting because I want you to be able to follow your dream. Fraternization isn’t allowed and we both know I’m a political liability. I will support you in whatever you do and in any way I can, and right now this is the only way I can do that. At the ministry you work to make the world a better place and one day, when you make the transition to Minister of Magic, I know you will change our world.”

Shocked at the emotion in his eyes, the sincerity on his face, and the conviction in his voice, Hermione released the death grip she had on his shirt. Roughly grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss, Hermione successfully pushed every thought out of his head as Harry finally surrendered all his worldly cares.

Breaking the kiss she spoke with great deliberation, “You listen to me, Harry James Potter.” She took hold of his chin with her right thumb and forefinger and tilted his head down to make sure she had eye contact and his undivided attention. I am quitting the DMLE because Co-Workers aren’t allowed to date and because you are the best thing that ever happened to the Auror Force. You’ve wanted to be an Auror ever since we were at Hogwarts and I won’t jeopardize your chances for the Directorship just because some backward, close-minded, pure-blood idiots need someone to kick them in the arse.”

“But Hermione...” He looked away as if unsure. Hermione gently guided his face back to her. “What about your goals, your career... your dream?”

“My dream is my dream - emphasis on the ‘my’ part. Dreams aren’t set in stone. They change and grow and sometimes when we stop and really examine them, they’re completely different from what we thought they were.” She sighed and lifted both of his arms up just enough for her to make a quick about face and slip herself beneath them.

Without prompting, Harry brought his arms up to cross her chest – hands resting on her shoulders. The position was nothing new, but their newfound understanding made their embrace more special...intimate. The thought brought a smile to both their faces.

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned back to rest her head on his left shoulder.

“Can I change your mind about quitting?” And the synchronicity returned.

“ENOUGH with the twin-speak,” drawled Hermione. She had a hand covering his mouth to keep him from speaking. “We get more than enough of that from Fred and George. And to answer your question, let me first ask you one. If I left the DMLE, would that stop you from leaving the DMLE as well?

Harry raised an eyebrow and slowly said, “No, with you gone, I’d have no reason to stay.”

Hermione looked pleased. “Right then, there’s your answer.” She smiled brightly and settled back against his chest.

<::::}]Present Day[{::::>

Ron was quite certain that Grimmauld Place’s front stoop had been bigger when he had last been to visit a couple of years ago. *Crack* Ow..oww... oh his neck would never be the same after falling asleep against the unyielding front door.

“Ron, what are you doing on my door stoop?” asked Neville from a nearby window.

“Your stoop? But this is Harry’s house... isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is, strictly speaking, but we’ve been renting it for nearly two years. I suppose you get a little possessive about a place when you’ve lived there long enough.”

Neville, I need to find Harry! Actually, I actually need to find Hermione, but I think Hermione’s with Harry so I need to find Harry if I want to find Hermione, but I really want to find Hermione, so if I find her first then I don’t really need Harry unless Harry has a lot of food because I’m really starting to get hungry.

Neville shook his head. It was always food with Ron. Well, either food or quidditch or chess or some combination of the three. “Right then, Ron, near as I can tell, you’ve only just gotten back. Why the sudden need to speak with Harry and Hermione?”

Ron vigorously shook his head. “No, no. Don’t need Harry if I have Hermione...”

That statement caused Neville to raise an eyebrow. Curious sentiment for a man who claimed Harry was his best mate.

Ron continued, “Once I tell Hermione the good news, all her dreams will come true! So, like I said, I really need to find her. Do you know where she is, Neville?”

With a straight face, Neville answered truthfully that he didn’t know exactly where she was... though he did have a pretty good idea.

“Why don’t you come in and we’ll have a little chat about that ‘good news’ you have. I might be able to help you on your way. ”

“Thanks Neville. You can always count on a Gryffndor in times of trouble.”

Neville masterfully kept the smile plastered on his face. Patronizing git, I almost ended up in Hufflepuff if I hadn’t asked for Gryffndor. He called into the house. “ Luna, Hannah, we have company!”

“Loony? What’s Loony Lovegood doing here?” The gormless wonder demanded.

A petrificus totalus was what Ron got for his trouble. Neville removed the bind on his mouth – temporarily. “I’ll thank you to not insult my... my guest while you’re under my roof. If you do it again, the consequences could be dire...” He smiled predatorily at Ron. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Ronald?”

Fervent nods followed.

“Good.” Said Neville with equanimity restored. He unbarred the door and levitated Ron over the threshold. Neville took an experimental sniff. God the stink.

With a bubblehead charm in place he plaintively asked, “When was the last time you bathed, Weasley?”

The red winger-dinger, who had lost track of the days, didn’t have an answer.

Neville sighed. He had been doing that a lot ever since he had noticed Ron on his door stoop. “Alright, I’m going to toss you into the tub. If you come out still smelling of week old stinksap, I’m scourgifying you.”

Fear made Ron’s meager memory recall reboot. “But Hermione told us that scourgify isn’t supposed to be used on people...”

Neville smiled and said, “Your point?”

Ron gulped loudly and decided to try his legendary charm... pity Neville wasn’t female. Even as far back as 4th year during the tournament ALL the girls were lining up to be HIS date. Sickening as it was, he turned his charm up to full power. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather play some chess?”

Neville felt a shiver of revulsion travel down his spine. He immediately re-bound the crimson arse’s mouth and continued onward to the tub.

<::::}]Hogwarts 4th Year{[::::>

“Come on, Harry! You obviously can’t make up your mind so we’ll let fate decide. All right with you, girls?”

“YES!!” came the overwhelming response. Almost every single girl in Hogwarts was crowding the specially enlarged classroom. Even Slytherin was represented. Harry was THAT popular!

“Hold on a minute, Ginny! Don’t I get a say on who I’m taking to the ball?”

She smiled lustily at him. “No, Harry, you don’t.” The ringleaders of the fangirl brigade pressed in even closer. A quick glance told him they were hunting for something... and the possibility dawned that he might be the prey.

Harry gulped noisily and clutched Hermione’s hand tighter. Fortunately for Harry, Hermione was positioned to his right and a little bit behind him, so he was able to hold her hand while still keeping their connection hidden by their robes. Her comforting grip calmed him and he gained strength from the contact.

Ginny stuck her hand into the large bowl and the sounds of rustling parchment could be heard. “And the winner of the Yule Ball date with the Boy Who Lived is... Hermione? No, no, no. That was a practice draw.” She tossed the slip of parchment back in and gave the bowl a shake. “This time for real.”

Harry’s gaze never wavered as he stared intently at the large wooden bowl.

“And the winner is... Hermione?” Ginny was clearly shocked. “What the hell” she muttered and tossed the parchment back into the bowl. “Okay, best two out of three.”

This time, Ginny clearly made a great show of thoroughly mixing the bowl. “Here we go... and the winner of the Yule Ball Date contest is... I don’t believe this – Hermione Granger, again!”

Hermione released Harry’s hand and elbowed him sharply in the stomach in much the same way she elbowed him imperceptibly when he began to fall asleep in History of Magic. Harry could just barely make out a ‘no cheating’ coming from the corner of Hermione’s mouth before she resumed holding his hand. With a sigh, Harry ended his eye contact with the bowl and refocused his eyes on his bushy haired best friend. Strange, she was very intently staring straight at the bowl.

“Okay. Enough games. This time is for really real. Best three out of five, so mote it be!” Ginny spat out.

With more force than necessary, Ginny thrust her arm back into the bowl and with a flourish pulled out a piece of parchment, carefully keeping it closed. “All right, listen up. The one, true winner of the ‘Win a Date to the Yule Ball with the Boy Who Lived” is none other than...” and the entire room stilled as almost everyone held their breath. “The winner is... Hermione Granger...”

Silence once again filled the room, but the silence quickly gave way to sobbing as several girls burst out in tears. To make it official, Harry surreptitiously slid his hand out of Hermione’s grip and turned to face her.

“Hermione, will you be my date to the Yule Ball?”

She didn’t hesitate. A smile, a nod, and a quick ‘yes’ followed and the two made their way from the room.

Once they passing through an empty corridor, Harry whispered to her out the side of his mouth. “And what do you call that, Miss No-Cheating?”

Hermione kept a straight face and whispered back in the same way. “I call it Fate Balancing Debts. Wouldn’t you agree?” She smiled.”

“I can live with that.”

<::::}]End Chapter 2[{::::>

Please review as comments and criticism help fuel the creative process.

3. Reupload of Duck Bank Ill

Good News Chapter 3

by Xelan (devote Harmonian)

Dislaimer: I own nothing. All recognizable characters are owned by their respective owners.

A/N: See notes from chapters 1 and 2. Bashing ahead.

A/N Succinct version: Hated Jo’s ending, my Hermione’s middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion.

Please review as comments and criticism help fuel the creative process.

<::::}]Present Day[{::::>

"Out! Out! Get OUT OF MY HOUSE! Thrice damned, red-headed arse!"

Ron was slowly backing towards the door. "Now Nev, be reasonable. How was I supposed to know she was your mistress?" His hands were up in a placating manner.

Neville pulled his wand from its holster. The glare on his face could have melted steel. "Concubine! Now, I told you to get out and you're still here, so I'm going to break your fingers and THEN I’ll THROW you out!"

At this point, Ron had tripped on the rug, fallen on his arse, and was frantically trying to scramble backwards toward the door. "Come on Neville, how could I have known she wanted me to stop?"

Neville stomped forward, wand drawn menacingly. "Yelling 'NO' and 'STOP' should have been your first clue!"

Ron gulped loudly. He barely dodged out of the way of a nasty looking yellow curse. Girls don't actually mean no when they say no, at least none of the girls he'd ever met had. Things were so complicated these days. All he wanted to do was find Hermione so he could get started on that family his Mother was always harping about. An even dozen sprogs should make her happy. After all, Hermione wasn't much to look at, but he'd heard things during his travels. Muggle women were supposed to be easy. Easy how, he wasn't sure, but anything easy was good in his book.

*BAM*

Ron's back collided against the closed front door. He turned around and frantically tried to work the door knob. Stopping when he felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned around for quick look.

Wand tucked safely behind his ear, Neville drove a gut busting punch deep into Ron's stomach. Ron went down to his knees cradling his stomach with tears in his eyes. Neville bent down and in a harsh voice said, "If you had done what you intended, all that would be left of you is a pile of potting soil. As it is, if you come near her again, I'll let Harry deal with you. He's very fond of Luna and once he hears what you tried to do, well you remember what happened to Voldemort?"

Whining pitifully, Ron choked out. "How could you mate? We're supposed to be friends. We fought a war together - how could you take her side against me!?"

Neville straightened up. Brandishing his wand, he flicked it once and the door opened wide. He looked down at the prone form of Ron Weasley. "Because we WERE friends once, I'm not going to end you here and now, but do not let me see you EVER again." He took a deep breath and in a clear, authoritative voice declared, "Ronald Bilius Weasley, for your actions you are declared an enemy of House Longbottom. Be warned that you are not welcome on any Longbottom land or property and that your children and your children's children (God save them) will be shunned and reviled for your actions this day." In a less formal tone he added, "and if you come sniffing around again, the wards will be set to maim and the finger breaking is still on the docket."

Ron whimpered.

"Now, for the last time, GET OUT!" growled Neville. He flicked his wand once again and this time a flock of mallards appeared. They began to swarm the pitiful excuse for a person, biting and scratching and flapping their wings in his face.

Ron howled terribly and fled from the Grimmauld house as quickly as his legs would carry him. The mallards followed for several city blocks.

Closing the door, Neville went to the fireplace and tossed in a bit of floo powder. "Ginny" he called out.

After a moment, Ginny's head appeared in the fireplace.

Neville looked grim. "He's back and he's looking for Hermione."

Ginny snorted slightly. "Just Hermione?"

Neville allowed himself a smirk. "And Harry to a lesser extent; though, he mainly wants Hermione. He has good news for her that he thinks will cause her to jump at the chance to marry him."

Ginny laughed outright at that news. "Do tell. This I can't wait to hear..."

<::::}]Trust – Approximately 3 years before present[{::::>

“Hermione! Over here!” called Ginny. She made her way over to Hermione amidst the unusually packed main lobby of Gringotts. Normally, the cavernous, vaulted ceilings left customers feeling insignificantly small, but the holiday shopping season meant they had to wade through a teeming throng of witches and wizards.

“Good to see you, Hermione.” intoned Ginny. A light embrace was customary and fortunately she’d mostly gotten over her jealousy regarding Harry. Speaking of Harry... where was he? “So where’s your better half?” she said with a smirk and a subtle dig. “We have some urgent business matters to discuss.”

“Oh, I know all about that.” Hermione responded. A kind smile graced her face. “Harry’s running late due to a mishap with a prisoner transfer. He asked me come meet you and explain the situation... but out in the open probably isn’t the best place for this, is it?” Taking Ginny lightly by the arm she began leading her to a side corridor that Ginny hadn’t even noticed until she was walking down it.

Ginny was shocked. Harry had TOLD Hermione about her money problems, the bad investments, and her latest project to make herself self-sufficient again. He had promised to be discreet and then he had TOLD Hermione! To make matters worse, Ginny had heard stories of tunnels like these; private rooms and hidden corridors under extraordinarily strong enchantments for the richest and most ancient of families. The more space you had, the higher in esteem you were held by the Goblins... and to a Goblin, esteem meant gold; lots of gold. They had been walking for several minutes and Ginny could no longer see the corridor entrance and Hermione looked perfectly at ease.

Finally, Hermione lead Ginny to an impressive set of double doors. The Potter crest was emblazoned prominently across both doors with the four copies of the Gringotts seal embossed but considerably smaller at each corner of the doorway.

A hand sized rectangle was offset just to the right of the Potter crest. Hermione placed her hand upon the door and the sliding of metal, as heavy duty locks slid back into their recesses, could be heard. The doors swung open with a melodramatic creak.

The room was huge! Ginny couldn’t hide her amazement as her eyes took in the room. The Potter wealth had to be substantial for Harry to rate this kind of luxury. She doubted the Malfoys could have warranted even a tenth of this space even before Lucius frittered away most of their wealth in bribes and back room deals. A large board room style table with plush leather chairs occupied one side of the room and a half dozen smaller work tables with chairs occupied the other end. In the middle were several sectionals, two-seaters, ottomans and one well used chesterfield. Hermione began to walk toward the chesterfield and Ginny followed. Around the room, Ginny noted several book shelves with a large number of them situated suspiciously close to chesterfield they were now seated upon.

Hermione settled into her favorite seat in the entire lounge and gave a sigh. Oh, to be able to just sit a read for a while. Wouldn’t that be grand? She reached out to a hand bell sitting just off to the side on an end table and gave it a light ring.

“Yes? Lady Potter.” asked Slipknife, the youngest goblin Ginny has ever seen. He had somehow just appeared when Ginny had blinked.

“Thank you for coming so quickly Slipknife. Miss Weasley and I have some business to discuss. Could I impinge upon you to send down some hot tea and some of those pumpkin scones Harry is so fond of?”

“Of course, Ma’am. Will Lord Potter be needing a place as well?

Hermione bit her lip as if considering the possibilities. “I think it would be best if there was enough for him as well. He’s working late, but he said he would try and be along shortly. You can never tell with these things.” She smiled at him.

“Very well.” He turned to go, but thinking better of it, he turned back around and cocked his head. “Would the Lady Potter care to try a new popular dish from the kitchens?

She raised a brow. “What sort of dish?”

He smiled a toothy grin and answered, “Forced Heron.” The young goblin lowered his voice and began to speak in a conspiratorial tone. “To be honest, we find it to be in horrid taste. An extremely popular author requested we prepare it to her instructions and now all the mindless sycophants order it at every opportunity. Truthfully, I don’t think it would suit you Lady Potter.

“Then why ask her?” blurted Ginny.

Slipknife gave a small sneer and answered. “Because it is good business to sell bad ideas at expensive prices if the public will pay. Which is why it is policy to offer it even if we are certain our better customers will almost certainly decline.”

“I believe you are correct, Slipknife. Heron doesn’t suit me in the least. In fact the very idea turns my stomach. Could you please also send some digestives along with the scones?”

Slipknife bowed low and when Ginny blinked he was gone.

“Lady Potter? When did you and Harry get married and how in Merlin’s name did you keep it a secret from everyone?” she demanded.

The impatience in Ginny’s tone made Hermione start for a moment. “Of course we aren’t married, Ginny. We’re best friends. Have been since we started Hogwarts, you know that. The whole ‘Lady Potter’ thing is just the goblins having a bit of fun.”

Ginny was noticeably skeptical. She’d never heard of let alone seen a goblin with a sense of humor. “That makes no sense, Hermione.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried to get them to stop dozens of times, but they insist on calling me that. I suspect it has something to do with Harry arranging for me to have access to this room as well as the Potter vaults and other properties.”

Ginny’s eyes went wide at that statement. Judging from the room alone, Harry had to be one of the richest wizards in Britain... if not in all of Europe or even the world. “Total access?”

At that question, Hermione ducked her head, looking embarrassed. “Yes...”

Ginny leaned back into the soft, overstuffed cushions. Absently, she murmured. “That’s a lot of galleons.”

Offhandedly, Hermione replied. “Yes, but we try not to focus on the money so much as how we can use it to help others. Speaking of which, did you have the agreement for Harry to look over?”

Still somewhat stunned, Ginny nodded weakly and handed her a large rolled up parchment. Hermione gracefully stood and went over to one of the better lit work tables to go over it.

“I thought we were waiting for Harry? It’s a considerable amount of gold to invest and, well, it’s a little embarrassing...”

Hermione dismissed her concerns good-naturedly. “Not to worry. Harry would have talked it over with me anyway. We decided earlier, that if he didn’t make the meeting on time, that if I agree with the particulars then I was to go ahead and authorize the funding. Just relax, have a scone and drink some tea. It won’t be more than a few moments while I go over this version.”

Ginny blinked and realized her right hand held a cup of tea and her left held a hot scone with jam and clotted cream. “When did I...?” Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her - she turned and saw Slipknife standing with a tray of tea and scones.

“We address the Lady Potter as we do because that is who she is. She is the Lady of House Potter and whether she is married or no in a legal a sense is immaterial. The charms in this room and corridor, the wards on the properties, and the enchantments on their vaults all recognize her right of access. Indeed, a normal marriage would not come close to giving her the unrestrained usage of all House Potter resources that she currently enjoys. Nor would that same marriage afford Lord Potter the open access he enjoys with her personal properties.”

“Why are you telling me this? I thought goblins never volunteered information.”

Slipknife sneered once more. “We give information when it suits us. Lord and Lady Potter are goblin allies. Together, they saved Chief Ragnock’s life from Voldemort. We honor our allies and mind their interests.” A knife, much like his name, slipped into his hand, but Ginny did not notice, so enthralled by the glare of his eyes.

Suddenly, she felt the edge of a knife against her throat. It was far too sharp to be butter knife.

“Be aware, that as their friend, you are afforded certain courtesies ... ANY that enter these corridors uninvited or with a mind for mischief will find themselves confronting worse things than dragons in Gringotts.

As suddenly as it appeared, the knife was gone and Slipknife was smiling another toothy grin.

“More tea, Miss Weasley?”

“I think I’ve had enough” she said very earnestly. Now if only my heart would stop beating so rapidly. I never really had a chance, did I? But I guess I already knew that.

<::::}] 6th year at Hogwarts[{::::>

“We won, Harry! We won!” yelled Ginny Weasley as she burst through the portrait opening. She had been biding her time for years, dating handsome boys throughout the school to make him jealous, and finally, finally! He would be hers. The quidditch win would clinch it. What boy could possibly resist a body like her’s, coupled with her devotion and athleticism?

Much to Ginny’s dismay, Harry wasn’t waiting for her in the entryway. First, Harry hadn’t shown up at the match, so he hadn’t seen her humiliate the rival seeker or how she single-handedly won the game for Gryffndor. Now, he wasn’t waiting to welcome her like the conquering hero she was. Instead, he was sitting with Hermione Granger and ignoring HER. The very thought of Harry, her destined boyfriend, lover and future husband , her Harry passing up the chance to watch Ginevra Molly Weasley shine in favor of talking with some tatty little mudblood of a muggleborn made her burn with the injustice of it all. He should be paying attention to HER! After all, he risked his life to save her from the possessed diary, literally faced a monster and a basilisk in order to save her. What surer sign could anyone ask for? Their love was destined since they met on his first ride to Hogwarts, they were fated since the day she got her first Harry Potter doll, they were kismet since EVERYONE knows Potter men are hopelessly attracted to red hair.

He didn’t even look up from the chesterfield where he was sitting close to Hermione in deep conversation. Evidently, Harry had been discussing something with Hermione that was so very important Harry couldn’t afford to be interrupted, not even for Ginny’s sake. No matter, thought Ginny. “Once we’re official, I’m sure he’ll tell me all about it. We’ll tell each other absolutely everything and become so close that people will think we’re like Harry and Hermione...

That thought brought her up short on her brisk march to claim her man. Why had she coupled Harry and Hermione together in her head? It should be Harry and Ginny, not Harry and Hermione. Harry and Hermione just sounded... right? NO! No, no. Mustn’t think crazy thoughts. That’s just the rush of the victory wearing off. She gave her head a little shake and then was stood right in front of Harry. He hadn’t even noticed her yet. A thought came unbidden to her mind, They really do look good together... shocked at her own subconscious, she ruthlessly smashed the erstwhile thought with a mental bludger. Pasting a bright and happy smile on her face, she deliberately thought, WE’LL look even better together and somewhere in the far corners of her mind another, smaller voice added, I hope.

She cleared her throat a few times to get his attention. When that didn’t work, she cleared her throat again but several times louder. When she finally sounded like she was going to hack up a lung, Harry turned and lifted his head to face her.

“We won, Harry! We won!” yelled Ginny. She grabbed an arm and pulled him to his feet. She was literally bouncing with enthusiasm again. It was in the spirit of that enthusiastic fervor that Ginny grabbed both sides of his face and yanked his lips towards her. Harry never let go of Hermione’s hand.

The shock of being hauled to his feet, and kissed by Ron's little sister was tremendous indeed. His grip on Hermione’s hand had actually slackened for a moment as he struggled internally on whether to hex her immediately or wait for an explanation and THEN hex her.

Hermione had been dragged to her feet by Ginny’s actions and so was standing close to Harry, their joined hands, spelled with a notice-me-not charm, went unremarked upon. Harry’s grip on her hand was once again rock solid. It would take more than some trashy, little bint to break the two of them apart. She knew she had nothing to worry about regarding Ginny, but that didn't prevent her from glaring darkly at the younger girl.

Ginny was confused. Something was wrong. She had her arms wrapped comfortably around her Harry's neck, check; lips pressed firmly upon Harry's lips, also check; passionate tongue battle with dreamy soon-to-be boyfriend, not checked; Harry's arms lovingly embracing her lovely, athletic body while he snogs the living daylights out of her, also not checked; a passion to be remembered throughout the ages building into a furor in her breast that could outshine the stars themselves, no - that's not checked either. No... she thought, despair filling her heart where she had expected boundless passion and joy would be. It's like, she wanted to cry. It's like kissing..., it SO wasn't fair. It felt like kissing her BROTHERS... Stiffly, Ginny pulled her head back and opened her eyes to behold Harry's handsome, scowling face. She licked her lips nervously then shut her eyes as a grimace of disgust and rage found its way onto her face. It felt like kissing RON - oh Merlin, she felt nauseous at the memory.

Harry took his free hand and vigorously tried to remove every trace of the red-headed tart's attempt to rape his mouth. A shiver of disgust ran down his spine. Thoughts of numerous hexes and long duration jinxes filled his mind. After Hermione mercifully provided him a number of breath freshening charms, he finally felt clean enough to function. Harry enveloped Hermione in a tight embrace. He whispered emotionally in her ear. "Thank you! I have never felt so dirty in all my life. Even clinging to a troll didn't come close..." He breathed deeply, finding his calm he turned back around to face Ginny.

Her feet unsteady and her stomach churning, Ginny Weasley, girl voted by her class as most likely to see the inside of every broom closet in Hogwarts, staggered to toward the girls dormitories. Her left arm wrapped around her stomach, her right hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She just needed to get to the loo and she'd be alright. It was not to be.

Ron stepped into the room. He was of three minds... well, actually he only had one mind (if only just barely) but he was conflicted three ways. On the one hand, his team had won so he should feel happy, but on the other hand he had performed miserably as a keeper and it was only thanks to his bratty little sister that his team won, so he thought maybe he should feel jealous. Jealousy was a familiar emotion for Ron and he had plenty of practice being jealous. Kind, loyal, respectful, polite, caring and empathetic had always given him major trouble, so he was really leaning towards feeling jealous. On the last hand (he has three hands? must be so he can shove more food down his pie hole) Hermione hadn't been at the match. Probably studying - the bossy little bookworm. On the up side, since she didn't know how badly he had played, he could lie for all he was worth and really make himself look good. That would get the bucktoothed little know-it-all worked up and excited and he would finally be able to steal her away from Harry. But the down side was since she wasn't at the match then she might have been with Harry - though why she'd want to hang out with a scrawny little pipsqueak like Harry when she could fawn over a magnificent specimen of pure-blood breeding like himself was a question that was completely beyond him.

He bit into the mince pie he'd 'liberated' from the kitchen on his way back from the match. Suddenly, a red-headed someone stumbled into him at a brisk pace and nearly knocked him over as he made his way across the common room. Not caring about the person falling to the ground, he clutched his mince pie securely and steadied himself.

Ginny was starting to feel dizzy. She just wanted to make it to the loo, make use of the facilities and then rest her cheek on the cool tile work. Then she bumped into a sweaty, smelly excuse for a person in quidditch robes topped with an unsightly mop of red hair that closely matched her own. As she fell to the floor, upon closer inspection she realized it was her brain-dead brother who talked a good quidditch game but was hopeless when it came to delivering. His face, always a mess, was now covered in crumbs and pieces of mince pie. The sight of Ron Weasley eating can cause even the most iron walled stomachs to churn unsettlingly; the sight of Ron Weasley eating was leaps and bounds more than what an already nauseous Ginny could take - Weasley or no.

*BLEARGGGHH!*

Ginny forcibly emptied the contents of her stomach all over the front of her brother's quidditch robes; covering the front, his trousers, her feet and even her own boots. The distance and the aim were quite impressive. Harry probably would have clapped if he hadn't been laughing so hard.

Hermione wasn’t one to laugh at the misfortune of others. Least of all when one of those ‘others’ was a friend... well, maybe not a friend, but a friend of a friend. So...he was more of an acquaintance then, really. Struggling mightily to keep her rising mirth under control she glanced at her very best friend in all-the-world. Harry was laughing so hard that sparse tears were beginning to run down his face. If Harry could laugh at his ‘best mate’ then Hermione could really see no issue with enjoying a good laugh at the expense of someone who was at best an acquaintance and who coincidentally always took the time to belittle her interests, whine about how she acted, and generally act like a world-class prat. Oh how she did laugh.

In the end, Harry and Hermione ended up hanging all over each other, laughing until tears were streaming down their faces, and futilely trying to keep each other standing. They eventually succumbed and slowly slid to the common room floor, still in each other’s arms.

<::::}]To Be Continued[{::::>

Please review as comments and criticism help fuel the creative process.

A/N: Yes, I did have Ron savaged by a duck. I find, and this is just my opinion, that playing around to make the person you like jealous is immature and does a disservice to all parties involved.

4. Renaissance Parent Ice Prefects

A/N Succinct version: Hated Jo’s ending, my Hermione’s middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion. Oh, and I don’t own Harry Potter.

A/N: I’ve got mixed feelings about this chapter. Strangely enough, Good News is very popular (according to FF dot Net), but I look back on earlier chapters and wonder what I was drinking when I wrote some of that. I’d like to think my writing has improved somewhat since then. Happy July 4th to all of my fellow Americans.

%%%%%%

-Summer Before Second Year-

-Joanne the Fantabulous: Enter the Mystical World of the Seer- was the sign above the tent situated among the many others of the Renaissance Fair that came yearly to Devon.

Ron sat on a stool sucking on a Muggle sweet and wondered why Jo never seemed to have any customers other than him. It helped that she enjoyed his company and always had a dish of candy out for whenever he dropped by to visit during the summer. On the plus side, she gave him sweets and sometimes told his future for free, but on the down side, and he rolled his eyes as he couldn’t stand it anymore and just had to comment, “Do you have write so loud? Hermione is always taking notes and I’ve had more than enough scritch-scratch to last me a lifetime,” he theatrically moaned.

“For you, Ron, I’ll write more quietly. Now continue, please. You said you ran to fetch Hermione and even had to drag your good for nothing friend along with you against his will and in the process you jumped on the back of a mountain troll and saved this Hermione girl’s life. Bravest thing I’ve ever heard,” she declared. “Worth a chapter or two at the very least,” she commented under her breath as she diligently copied it all down.

More slightly-less-loud scritch-scratch followed. Ron moved the piece of candy over to the other side of his mouth and redoubled his efforts so he could have another piece of candy. Jo was very strict about finishing one piece before he could have another.

“So, as I understand it, the only reason the three of you were in any danger at all was simply because that other boy you mentioned, had bollixed things up by insulting her. *Tsk* *Tsk* “I know he’s one of your very first friends and all that, but I predict that he will be nothing but trouble. Don’t look so skeptical, I do make predictions for a living, after all!” She declared with her nose held high.

Ron began cleaning his ear out with a piece of straw.

“Now then, I think I’ve got a good understanding of the trip to the Forbidden Forest but why do you have such difficulty in explaining what happened after you later took charge of the Chess Set Challenge when neither of your other friends had any idea how to play?

-Summer before Third Year before Egypt Trip-

“Hmm… she hugged you when the two of you left the Hospital wing and only shook his hand…” She smirked to herself.

Ron’s face was red, as his cheeks tried mightily to match his hair. “It might not mean anything… I mean, I-mean-Henry wasn’t the cleanest of students, m-maybe he, umm, didn’t take baths often enough or something like that?”

But Jo wasn’t listening to the embarrassed mutterings of the young Ginger, she was much too enraptured by her fond recollections. “Ah, young love, though a bit hard to believe as you tell it. Might have to swap who did what to increase the dramatic tension. Also, revealing it was a Basilisk from the beginning would ruin the suspense. Perhaps refer to it as a monster until the very last possible moment?” she pondered. “Going to visit your little girl friend in the hospital wing even though she was petrified just to talk with her and keep her from being lonely…” she ruffled his red hair. “You so remind me of my ex-husband - so gallant and brave.”

“However, regarding your friend Henry, he just keeps antagonizing your female friend. I don’t know why you allow him to hang around the two of you. I mean, you’re obviously so compatible. Great Aunt Sibyl would probably have declared you two soul mates – you’re so very close. Though, Great Aunt Sibyl was always a bit overly sentimental; especially after a few bottles of sherry.”

-Summer before Fourth Year-

“Slow down Ronald. I completely missed your explanation of who cast the Patronus Charm and how you managed to help Henry’s godfather escape while you were in infirmary…”

%%%%%%

“Really? So they just appeared in front of you and started to laugh? Surely they must have explained everything after the fact. Orders from Dumbledore, you say? Fascinating, truly fascinating. What I wouldn’t have given to be a fly on that wall…” then she suddenly stopped writing. A slow smile started to expand on her face (A/N: Think of the Grinch from the TV special). She brought the nib up and rested it on her tongue. “Yes, a fly… or perhaps a beetle…” she murmured.

%%%%%%

“Chin up, Ronald. From everything you’ve told me over the years, I’m positive she has feelings for you. All you have to do is bide your time and she’ll let you know how she feels.”

Incoherent mumbling from Ron.

“Ronald, I’m a woman and an adult of much greater experience than you, of course I’m right.”

“Don’t worry about your other friend. He seems to be completely at odds with her. I mean honestly, how could he be so insensitive to a girl as to drive her crying to the women’s lavatory. Honestly, I distinctly recall you telling me you had to drag your friend with you when you rescued her from that Troll. How very brave of you to jump on its back and save her from being injured. How on earth could she fall in love with anyone but you? You, my dear boy are a young hero and the Hero should always get the girl.”

-Summer before 5th year-

“Why Ronald, I’m shocked you didn’t ask Hermione out. In fact, I’m even more shocked she didn’t ask you first. Such potential, but still a bit young I suppose. Her feelings for you are obvious in the way she constantly worries for your well-being.”

-Present time - Meet the Parents-

Ron Weasley was having a bad day. In fact, calling today a bad day would be an understatement; today was the worst day he could remember. He conveniently forgot several incidents involving acromantulas, escaped convicts, quidditch routs, and death eater encounters. Ron Weasley is funny that way.

Thus far, he’d been unable to find Hermione, been humiliated and beaten up by Neville (of all people), still unable to find Hermione, been up and down the length and breadth of Britain and run into dead end after dead end trying to find where Ginny had moved to, and yet again was unable to find Hermione, found Ginny’s new flat but she wasn’t home and some wet behind the ears Auror trainee had the gall to tell him he couldn’t wait for her to return and had to move along. The nerve of some people, didn’t they know who he was, what he had done? He’d fought against He Who Must Not Be Named for Merlin’s sake. Well, not directly, but he’d been instrumental in his defeat. Even Harry had admitted that much.

Now, to add further insult to injury, he had to resort to checking with Hermione’s Muggle relatives to try and locate Hermione. Why oh why was nothing ever easy? I just want to marry their daughter so I can have a dozen or so sprogs, I don’t want to spend time with Muggles. Hermione better appreciate that I’m actually going to see her parents this one time…. And she better not expect us to visit them. He smiled at the thought of them living in the Burrow; Hermione rubbing his feet and his Mum cooking his favorite cottage pie. ‘Course she won’t. It isn’t like I want to marry her parents, after all…

Deciding it might scare the poor hapless Muggles if he did something as fancy and awe-inspiring as apparating into their home, he decided to apparate into their back garden. Oddly enough, he still remembered how Harry had side-alonged him there one afternoon a while back. He’d never been there before and had no idea how he would have found the place if Harry hadn’t been there. He was reasonably certain Hermione had mentioned something about Crawley several years ago, but it didn’t seem important at the time, they were, lest we forget, only Muggles.

With a loud *POP* he found himself facing their back garden door. He raised his hand to knock, figuring that since they would soon be related (if only by marriage, thankfully) he should at least try and act polite. But before Ron could knock, the door swung open and an older gentleman whose hair looked vaguely the same shade as Hermione’s opened the door in a rush.

“What’s the matter, son? Forget your keys-oh… sorry. You’re not Harry at all, are you?” said the man. He had clearly mistaken Ron for someone else. “No, of course not.” He gave Ron an appraising glance up and down; Ron found it strange and in the back of his mind, a place he seldom ventured (he doesn’t visit the front very often either), he felt he was being measured against something… and found wanting. It was a familiar experience… or at least it would have been if he had been consciously aware of it. As it stood, he had a vague feeling of unease as Daniel Granger looked at the would-be son-in-law and found he wasn’t terribly impressed. He ended his appraisal on the red hair. “You’re that Weasley boy, aren’t you? Donald or something like that, wasn’t it?”

Trying to smile politely and mentally reminding himself that after today he would never have to talk to or touch another Muggle again, he held out his hand and in a shaky voice said, “Umm... Ronald-that is to say, Ron Weasley.”

Shaking Ron’s hand firmly, he could just barely keep the frown off of his face as he silently tsked at how weak the boy’s handshake was. “Ronald. That’s right. Harry brought you round once. I remember now. You blew up the telly as I recall.”

Ron winced. He’d forgotten about that. They had been watching some kind of monster show and he’d accidentally reducto’d their tellybision.

Leading him into the house by the shoulder, his lip twitched as he recalled that odd afternoon several years ago. “No worries there, Ron. Harry and Hermione put things right again after you left.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s great Doctor Granger.” He really didn’t care. It was years ago and in Ron’s mind that meant it might as well have never happened at all

He smiled reassuringly, attempting to make the young man welcome. “Please, call me Dan. “

Ron nodded and said it was okay to call him Ron.

“So, what brings you to Crawley today, Ron?”

“I’m looking for Hermione. I have the most important of news for her.” He said with a smile.

“Good news, I hope?”

He practically beamed as he answered, “The best.”

A crazy suspicion crossed Dan’s mind at how Ron said those two words. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I’d tell you, but these kind of things are best told to the bride first… oops. Just forget I said that. Just know that once she hears what I have to tell her, then she can finally settle down.” Ron made an effort to produce a slow and exaggerated wink as if between close friends.

“Is that so?” It turned out that the crazy suspicion he’d had wasn’t so crazy after all. Apparently Ron didn’t know that situations had progressed while he’d been away. His lip twitching slightly, he called out to his wife. “Emma! I have a young man here in search of our daughter.”

Silence immediately followed and Dan idly wondered whether she had heard. Finally she called out from one of the upstairs bedrooms

“Ha ha, Harry - very funny. What in heaven’s name are you still doing here? I know you can apparate or whatever you call it, but Hermione already called to ask us to water your plants and look after Crooks and Hedwig while you two are away. If you don’t get a move on, then she’ll leave without you.” She laughed aloud. “Though what she’d be doing there without you, I have no ide…” Emma Granger stopped short as she entered into the kitchen and saw their guest wasn’t who she had been expecting.

Ron tried to smile. He had the distinct impression that she wasn’t expecting to see him here. “Hello Mrs. Dr. Granger.”

Emma’s mouth opened then immediately closed again. “Hello there. *Ahem* Can I see my husband alone for a moment?” She looked pointedly at her husband.

Smiling as if he didn’t have a brain in his head (imagine that) he nodded and then excused himself into their living room. As he was leaving, he heard the barest snatches of her annoyed whisper. It sounded like, “Fool… me… not… son… law… not… red…’oron…Daniel.” It made no sense to Ron, so he just ignored it and busied himself with looking over the various Muggle knickknacks Hermione’s mom collected.

Growing bored with the Muggle things, he finally settled on some photos of Hermione. They didn’t move, so they must have been modified to appear non-magical. Pity, he thought. There were some cute shots of Hermione growing up, often with a book in her hands and her humongous teeth. Thank Merlin those got shrunk when she was still in Hogwarts – looked like a ruddy beaver…

Moving on, His attention was caught by several photos that were more recent. There was one of the three of them standing in front of the Hogwarts express from First year, if he remembered correctly. Another from what must have been second year. It showed Hermione caught in mid-embrace as she hugged Harry. They both looked really happy. Ron felt his stomach churn oddly and he was struck with the sudden desire to find himself in the same picture. He knew he had to be there. After all, they were together so often they’d garnered the nickname The Golden Trio. Plus, he vaguely remembered that day. Searching the photo, he finally found himself half cutoff with an uncertain expression on his face. Hmm… moving on…

This was a photo he’d never seen before. It was Harry and Hermione with their arms around each other, with Sirius Black, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger together in the background. Judging from their appearance, It look like sometime around Third or Fourth year. Since Sirius Black was there, it must have been after he escaped, his rarely used logic center volunteered. He stared at the photo, wishing the figures could move so he could get a better look at the background; at least one of the houses in picture looked oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Eventually he gave up trying to place the location and moved on.

Scanning through the pictures, he spotted some more contemporary shots of Hermione. Two she really looked hot in. One had her in a beautiful red gown with Harry in what appeared to be the Muggle version of dress robes-black with green trim. Another picture of a much older Hermione in white and silver with Harry in a pure black suit that looked even fancier than the rest. He’d never seen Harry or Hermione look as happy as they had in that one picture. His eyes narrowed and he felt a burning spike of anger for no reason that he could place… It certainly wasn’t unusual for him to be angry at the drop of a hat, but even Ron found it weird to get mad because two people looked ridiculously happy in a photo.

Squelching the anger down and placating his temper that it wouldn’t do to blow up at the future-in-laws, he idly noticed there didn’t seem to be any pictures of Fourth year; though, it was probably just as well since that was the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He, personally, had quite a few bad memories from that year and didn’t need a reminder.

Some noise from the kitchen drew his attention from the photos and he turned around to see what was going on, but his eyes fell upon two framed badges on the wall. Upon each badge were the Hogwarts seal and the word Prefect. A wave of anger swept through him and his vision started to go black due to the shear anger and resentment those two badges drudged up.

At that very same moment, Emma stepped into the living room with a tea tray set for three. “Would you like some tea, Ron?”

His vision cleared but his visage still stormy, he nodded his head and sat down roughly upon the sofa. “Yes, extra cream and 3 lumps of sugar. Then I would very much appreciate it if you would tell me where Hermione is.”

-Present Time - Where Hermione Is - Somewhere in California-

“H-He-Hermione…” Harry stammered. “What on earth are you wearing?!”

“Oh these?” she pointed to her denim short shorts.

Rapid nodding from Harry followed.

“I believe they’re called daisy dukes. They’re supposed to be very popular around here right now. I figured it wouldn’t hurt for us to blend in.”

“B-but, your top?”

“This, Harry?” queried Hermione as she pointed with both hands toward her chest covering. “Surely you remember the top from my first bikini. You helped me pick it out years ago. Apparently, bikini tops and daisy duke bottoms are the trend in California. Besides, I never did find the matching bottoms for this top after you ran off with them. ”

“But you told me to!” he said plaintively.

She walked up to him and stroked a delicate finger up his neck to rest under his chin.

“So I did, Mr. Potter.” She cocked her hip and smirked at him. “Was there something wrong with my top aside from the fact that I’ve grown a bit since I first bought it?”

Harry gulped noisily and shook his head “no”. His eyes were fixed on Hermione.

“I do believe you’re dripping, Harry.”

His eyes shot all the way open and he looked down at his swimming shorts. They were fine, feeling a bit snug, but otherwise fine. He looked at Hermione with a puzzled look on his face. She motioned with her eyes to his hands.

His ice lollies! They’d melted in his hands and he hadn’t even noticed. Sweet, sticky fruit juice dripped down his fingers and pooled in his palms. The sticks stood proud – naked of all their icy goodness.

Harry just couldn’t understand it. He knew he’d charmed the lolly sticks to keep the ice lollies cold for quite a while so they would have time to enjoy them. They shouldn’t have melted so soon.

Hermione took hold of his red, juice covered hand and started sucking on his fingers.

He felt a massive blush start to burn in his cheeks and his hands began to get very warm. “YOU! It was your fault. You melted my ice lollies!”

She slowly and deliberately dragged her tongue across his juice covered palm, forcing Harry to suck in a deep breath.

“Whoops…” she said in a tone that was in no way repentant.

At that, Harry smiled. He reached out his other hand to clasp her lightly on the shoulder. The red juice on his other hand ran in rivulets down her soft, sun kissed skin to slowly stain her small, white bikini top. “Turnabout’s fair play, wouldn’t you say?”

Even melted, they both enjoyed their ice lollies.

-On the Train to Hogwarts at the Start of Fifth Year-

Ron Weasley felt as if he had been punched in the gut. "But-b-but I was supposed to be prefect..." he stuttered. In a quiet voice, his shock and confusion quickly turned to anger and jealousy. His brows furrowed and in an accusative whisper he said, "I thought they'd just forgotten my badge - Dumbledore promised." His eyes hardened. "We'll just see about this!" and he turned on his heel and slammed the compartment door closed as he strode into the corridor.

Hermione was buffing her prefect's badge to a high gloss and didn't pay the rude redhead any attention. She had suspected since first year that most of what came out of his mouth was rubbish anyway and second year had merely confirmed it. Thus, she had spent most of third year and a good portion of fourth year learning to ignore him. Being Hermione, when she set her mind to accomplish something, it got done and it got done well - the first time. She glanced at Harry and suppressed a smile. His badge hadn't been shined recently and she had to restrain herself from reaching over and giving it a good rub with her polishing cloth. She gave a contented sigh, they were both prefects and all was right with the world.

Harry had pretended to nap against the side wall of their train compartment. Hermione's weight was comforting as she leaned up against him and her soft warmth brought a light smile to lips. He'd been feigning sleep to prevent any arguments with Ron, and thus far it looked as if their plan had worked.

McGonagall had been very clear regarding the prefect assignments. Despite the forgone conclusion of Ron making prefect in Dumbledore's notes, she did not share the former headmaster's incredibly charitable sentiments towards the young Mr. Weasley. His grades had always been on the low end of average, but ever since Miss Granger ceased her efforts to assist him, his schoolwork had dropped to nearly troll levels. Consequently, she whole-heartedly agreed with Dumbledore’s desire to appoint Hermione, but Ron was, in her studied opinion, at the very bottom of the list of Gryffindors to make prefect – trailing just beneath Trevor.

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Ginny sat cater-corner to Harry and Hermione on the opposite side. She'd been planning to sit next to Harry, but judging from Harry’s sleeping form, Hermione had evidently rushed them both to the train at around the crack of dawn, well before the Weasley contingent had even made it out the of the Burrow’s front door.

She sighed, thinking of all the times she had ridden on the Hogwarts Express and not gotten to sit next to Harry. It didn't help that for as long as she could remember, her family had always just barely kept from missing the train. Well, except the year before Ginny had started at Hogwarts. That year they’d been earlier to the station than just about anyone else for the first and only time in Ginny’s recollection. She blinked. ‘Strange...’ she thought. ‘I wonder why...?’

Her thoughts were interrupted by Neville Longbottom sitting down almost uncomfortably close to her. She scooted further away and couldn’t help but notice his crestfallen expression. Now she was sure that he fancied her.

%%%%%%

Upon boarding the train and after a brief search, she’d found the two of them. Harry had been resting and Hermione was cozied right up next to him. When Ginny had not so subtly hinted that she wanted to sit next to Harry, Hermione had claimed best friend privileges and unpinned her prefects badge and began to polish it. Stupid bint, flashing her badge around for all to see.

Wait - Prefect’s badge? Perfect! Ron had been going on and on about how this year he was going to be the Gryffindor prefect and give those slimy Slytherins detentions whenever he had the chance. If Hermione was the female 5th year prefect for Gryffindor and Ron was the male 5th year prefect, then eventually she and Ron would have to leave for the prefect meeting and Harry would be left unprotected and Ginny could make her move. Of course, everything hinged on Ron actually BEING a prefect and thus far she had been skeptical, especially when their Hogwarts letters had arrived and his letter had been curiously badge-less.

Ron had assured everyone who would listen that he was sure it was all some sort of mistake and that surely a follow-up letter would arrive soon with his missing badge, but when none arrived he determinedly maintained that it would be waiting for him on the train. In fact, he had immediately gone off in search of the Head Boy to find out whether he had Ron’s badge or if Ron needed to meet with the Headmistress to get a new one from her.

The minutes ticked by and Ginny grew more and more anxious. Harry and Hermione were already so close; she began to worry that if things continued this way that eventually the two might decide to give formal dating another go and she was certain it wouldn’t be long before an engagement followed. Despite the frequent assurances that they were only best friends, Ginny has seen the unguarded looks, the lingering touches, and the intimate whispers. She had time, of that she was sure, but as to how much time, well that was another matter entirely.

Ron stomped into the compartment, followed closely by Neville. Ginny squirmed in her seat slightly as she looked Neville over. He’d matured quite a bit and gotten handsomer, though Harry was still MUCH better looking. He had danced with her several times during the Yule ball last term and she suspected he might fancy her.

‘Oh why couldn’t Harry just declare his love for her in front of a huge group of people and settle everything? Why did she have to work so hard at what her Mum had assured her was a foregone conclusion?’ she lamented.

Ron sat down in a huff on the bench midway between Hermione and Luna. His arms were crossed and a light scowl was darkening his features. That he sat close to no one meant he was in an even fouler mood than normal. Ginny actually hesitated to inquire what he found out about his badge... but in the end, she had to know.

“So how’d it go with the Head Boy? Since you’re not wearing a badge, I’m guessing he didn’t have it. McGonagall maybe?” inquired Ginny in as gentle a tone as possible.

In a sulky tone, the youngest male Weasley replied. “I’m – not – a – prefect.” Then he was quiet for several seconds and Ginny decided to just drop it. Unfortunately, Ron wasn’t going to make it that easy.

He opened his mouth as if to continue but then noticed Hermione was polishing her badge. His mouth closed then opened again, a process that repeated several times and closely resembled that of a fish. It was then that Harry picked that exact moment to seemingly wake from the light doze he had been enjoying.

Harry shifted and stretched slightly, his eyes still closed, and sensing Hermione next to him, without thinking, he stretched out an arm around her waist and pulled her close. In the process of stretching and snuggling up to Hermione, much to Ron’s consternation, Harry’s robes shifted and the slightly less shiny (because Harry didn’t polish his as often as Hermione) prefect’s badge pinned to his robes became visible. It glinted tauntingly in the uncertain sunlight as clouds moved across the sky.

Ron inhaled sharply as he glared daggers at his ‘best friend’ who had the badge and the girl that he wanted. His face began to redden.

Harry Potter was content. For once thing were going well. In an uncharitable moment, he briefly considered that having Dumbledore NOT being Headmaster was a wonderful thing, and then his conscience (which was sounding curiously like Hermione) admonished him for thinking such thoughts. Even if, his conscience conceded, it was true.

Turning away from the window and leaning his head on Hermione’s shoulder, he allowed himself to be lulled back to sleep by the rolling of the train and by the sound of her heart beat. After all, it wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep with Hermione in his arms... and that’s how he stayed for quite a while longer until Hermione reluctantly woke him up for the prefects meeting.

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