Unofficial Portkey Archive

The Last Turner of Time

Standard Disclaimers Apply…

Chapter 3

The closeness she was feeling in Harry's very warm embrace standing there in the middle of her office brought back so many memories it was difficult for her to categorize them all.

She didn't want to remember but the images flashed behind her eyelids as if she were watching a film on fast-forward. There seemed to be no help for it…

She remembered the shocked look on Harry's face after she had silently and calmly dispatched their one-time nemesis Draco Malfoy. She had simply turned and left the room without a backwards glance - still numb from seeing Ron lying dead on the ground just inside the warded area of the Riddle property. She had felt nothing and it had been so unlike her.

She remembered what had happened after Harry discovered Ginny's battered and broken body in the dungeon cellar. He had brought her out carrying his love in his arms - tears streaking his dirty face as he laid her gently in the grass at his feet.

Hermione also remembered how he had looked as he stood there - hands clenched in tight fists of utter rage and hatred.

She remembered how the entire Riddle house quite unexpectedly exploded with a force that knocked her off her feet - the ground rumbling as if they were being hit by an earthquake - the whole building erupting in a towering inferno that engulfed and devoured everything!

She had also remembered the look in Harry's eyes - the red glow in the depths of them - reflecting like that of a wild animal looking into the light. It was like looking into the eyes of pure evil!

Hermione remembered how she had recoiled from him when Harry had reached down to help her to her feet. She wasn't certain what was happening to him and she had been afraid - she had been afraid of Harry Potter for just that moment staring up at him in utter disbelief.

She recalled when the Aurors had arrived and none could believe the utter devastation. Most assumed it had been Voldemort himself who had destroyed his muggle family home - No one had guessed it was Harry who had done it.

She remembered looking back at Harry and the evil was gone, replaced by debilitating sadness and grief. He had left - without a word - he had gone back to his cottage in Godric's Hollow - leaving everyone and everything behind.

She had followed - being one of the few who knew the location of his home and able to penetrate the powerful wards that guarded it. She found him there - sitting with knees pulled to his chest and arms wrapped tightly around his legs wedged in the corner of his bedroom lost in the depths of the darkening shadows.

She remembered lowering herself down next to him giving herself over to her own pain and anguish that filled her shattered heart and soul. They had clung to one-another to keep from falling apart.

She remembered how she had cried - an endless stream of tears and immobilizing pain. He had cared for her - she had no idea how he was able to manage it but he had - he had somehow set his own pain and grief aside to keep her from falling completely to pieces - but he had. He had saved her life and sanity.

She remembered they had spoken little over the next week as they found themselves lost in the depths of despair and sadness but as time passed they both began to fight their way back to the surface, purging themselves of the nightmare of death and loss.

She remembered how he had forced her to eat - how he had given her strength by the sheer force of his will - and they both managed to heal…or at least that's what she had thought at the time. Hermione had no idea he had put his own pain aside for her.

She had also remembered the day she left Godric's Hollow. Harry had slipped the gold chain and locket around her neck and told her it was a gift - She was to keep it always close to her heart.

It had bewildered her - she had not deserved a gift. He had given her sanity and kept her from falling into the dark pit of despair. He had placed his hand over the locket lying between her breasts and smiled.

She had remembered those last words to her before she returned to her mother and father's house…

"Our lives are connected in ways I can't even begin to understand Hermione. One day you'll understand the importance of this…and then everything will be clear. Until then…keep it with you always…I will always care for you no matter what…"

…But she knew now. She had finally realized after she had almost fallen apart again at Neville's wedding - Harry had saved her and she would never deny him anything ever again…no matter what.

When she finally but very reluctantly released him and stepped back she gazed up into those mesmerizing green eyes of his. She had to swallow hard and mentally shake herself not only out of the depths of her own memories but the strange effect he seemed to have on her being so close.

The strange underlying power that seemed to emanate under the surface was almost dominating in its nature and it was causing her to feel things she could not seem to quantify in her well-ordered mind.

"Thanks for coming," she whispered trying to get control of herself, "Let me show you around and introduce you to my staff…"

But as they toured her department she realized how ridiculous it was to introduce this man to anyone in the wizard world - they all knew who he was but she thought it prudent to acknowledge the importance of her people.

Her staff all regarded Harry with such reverence she could tell it was making him very uncomfortable but he accepted their praise with his usual quiet grace and dignity even though he continued to project his strange dark aura. It was a bit disconcerting to many of her people.

When they finally returned to her office Harry seemed a bit discombobulated by all the attention.

"Sorry about that," she apologized smiling, "I guess I just wanted to show you off. Mother is expecting us at seven. Is that alright?"

"Of course," Harry replied, "but I really should check in with Kingsley before I leave. I haven't been in the office to file a report in over a week. He gets a bit…" Harry paused giving Hermione a rather dark and mischievous look that made her heart flutter like the wings of a startled canary, "cranky when I don't check in on a regular basis. Meet you in the commons at six?"

"Very well," Hermione pouted, "If you must leave me."

She thought how ridiculous she was being but she couldn't seem to help herself. It had been so long since they had spent any time together and she was just now realizing how much she had truly missed him. She had never been the possessive or needy type but his close proximity was doing something to her self-control.

She was almost certain it was that strange magnetism he was radiating and it was just so…so…primal!

With only a slight hesitation Harry stepped forward and pressed his lips to her right temple and slipped one of his large hands gently over her cheek caressing her so softly it made Hermione's whole body shudder and clench with pure raw desire!

Great Merlin's ghost! This guy!

Hermione didn't what him to stop - didn't want him to pull away. She closed her eyes and basked in the pure warmth that radiated from him, surrounding her in his utter masculinity. She wanted to lose herself in this strange heat and power that overcame her. It was so strong it was making her a bit dizzy - but before she could gather her wits he was gone.

When Hermione arrived at the common area of the Ministry Harry was waiting patiently by the new Fountain of Perpetual Peace and Prosperity erected after the demise of the Dark Lord.

It was a bronze statue of Albus Dumbledore in his usual wizard finery holding a good replica of the elder wand aloft in his right hand while clutching a book to his chest in his left.

Water sprouted from the tip of his wand to cascade down over his pointed hat. A perfect rendition of Fawkes was sitting on his perch at his right side with wings outspread and the Sorting Hat sat on a small spindly table at his left with the sword of Godric Gryffindor leaning against it.

When one looked closely at the cover of the book the former Headmaster was clutching it bore the title of one of Hermione's all time favorite tomes - Hogwarts-A History.

It made her smile every time she saw it.

"Been waiting long," Hermione asked, "I tried to hurry."

"Not long," Harry replied with that seemingly ever-present sad smile of his, "It's fine Hermione. I know you're busy. Ready?"

She nodded. She slipped her arm in his and they made their way out of the Ministry into the early evening of Muggle London.

Life at the Granger house was quite a bit different then the effusive chaos of the Burrow. Things were a bit more formal but no less warm and inviting.

Hermione's mother and father had come to respect Harry very much in the years after the fall of the Dark Lord even if he had only visited a few times before he came down with his affliction.

Harry had insisted they stop and pick up a bottle of wine even though Harry didn't really like the stuff. He knew Hermione and her mother did and that was all that mattered.

Diner was an elegant affair and Hermione's mother had gone all out. There was tender roast beef, steamed rice and vegetables, fresh garden salad with some of her father's home grown tomatoes and a warm baguette smothered in garlic butter.

After diner Harry leaned back in his chair wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin.

"Ms. Granger that was absolutely amazing! Thank you. I think you could give Molly Weasley a serious run for her money in the kitchen."

"Why thank you Harry," Mrs. Granger smiled demurely, "That is high praise indeed. Do you have room for desert? I've made a plumb raisin tort. It's very good if I do say so myself."

"Good!" Hermione quipped, "Nonsense! Don't let her fool you Harry. It's to die for!"

She gave her mother a little quirky sideways glance as she took a sip of her wine.

"I wish she would cook for me like this when I visit. I usually get minced pie."

"Now you know that is absolutely not true," her father chided, "Don't listen to a word of it Harry. Perhaps you'd get the good stuff more often if you came round a bit more frequently."

"Now darling," her mother chided, "You know Hermione has a very important position within the Ministry. She's very busy."

"Bah," her father groused affectionately, "Likely excuse!"

After desert they all settled into the Granger's sitting room and talk about simple things for a while.

Harry thought it was really nice just to sit and listen to this intelligent and witty banter between Hermione and her parents. It was very easy to see how proud they were of her and all her amazing accomplishment.

When he glanced over at Hermione he caught her sneaking a look in his direction over the rim of her goblet. Her soft amber eyes flickered in the firelight. She was on her third glass of wine and her cheeks were getting a bit flushed.

She was wearing a soft white angora turtle neck sweater over a pair of very nice fitting light grey corduroys. Her soft silky light brown curls spilled over her shoulder and glowed softly in the dim yellow light of the lamp just above her. She had her legs tucked up under her ensconced on the end of the couch. Her head was dipped just slightly looking at her mother a bit sideways leaning on her elbow. The look on her face - in her eyes - was that of quiet contentment. It was a look he had never seen there before.

Hermione Granger had become such an absolutely gorgeous woman. She was breathtaking.

When their eyes met it was like that old connection they had made years before - standing in the little library of his cottage in Godric's Hollow - had resurfaced. He could feel that same warm tingling sensation all over as his stomach did a little flip.

He suddenly realized what a horrible mistake he was making.

What are you doing Potter? You can't do this! This is not the kind of life you'll ever be able to lead! YOU ARE DANGEROUS! You are a danger to these people! You don't belong here! You don't belong with HER! She deserves better…

But even though his thoughts were a swirling mess of insecurity he managed to stay for a while longer.

Even though he knew he didn't belong it was hard for him not to feel the peace and serenity that permeated the Granger house.

When Harry finally did announce it was time for him to go it surprised him that Hermione didn't try to keep him or convince him to stay longer.

After making his farewells to her parents he and Hermione made their way to the front porch. Harry secretly wished she would have stayed inside but he said nothing for a long moment as they stood side by side, Harry's hands thrust in his pockets.

"Thank you for coming Harry," Hermione whispered looking out over the darkened street that ran in front of her parents home. "Mother and father love you very much and I think they've missed you as much as I have."

It was late enough there were few out and about in the area. Harry watched an older man in what appeared to be a pair of oversized rubber boots walking his dog on the far side of the lane.

"Well, at least you won't get throttled now anyway," Harry grinned at her.

He wanted to leave. He needed to leave but glancing at her looking up at him with such love and utter affection he couldn't seem to make his feet move. He did manage to make it one step down but he was having a bit of trouble forcing himself to go any further.

This is stupid Harry! Go…before you do something you'll regret - before it' too late!

"Harry," Hermione asked softly.

Harry looked back up into her eyes. She looked a bit sad now as well.

"Yes Hermione?"

"Please make me a promise," she asked.

"What promise?"

"Just promise you won't stay away for so long this time," she said in a rather pleading voice, "I know you're busy as am I but I'm going to paraphrase my father and argue that's a terrible excuse, yes?"

Harry couldn't help but look at his shoes for a long moment.

"Hermione," Harry stiffened. He was about to tell her that things have changed - that he wasn't the same person she had known when they were younger but her hand placed softly on his arm stopped him.

When he looked up again her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"I've realized something very important over the last few days Harry," she said, her voice quivering slightly, "The last several years have been horribly empty and I've realized I don't want to live without you any more. I need you in my life."

Harry swallowed hard and fought the urge to give in to his emotions but even though he wanted to with every the fiber of his being, he knew what a horrible mistake it would be. He was a monster now.

"I'll," Harry's own voice stumbled, "I'll try Hermione but I can't make you a promise I'm not sure I can keep. I'm sorry."

"Please," she whispered choking on the word, a shaking hand coming up to cover her mouth.

The pure look of sadness in her eyes was enough to break what was left of his mutilated heart. He couldn't stand it. He clamped his eyes shut tightly against the pain in his chest.

He fell forward and took the last three stairs in a single step. He had to put some distance between them or his resolve would surely crumble. When he heard her gasp and make a terrible quiet keening sound it made him stop about three paces from the steps.

Harry glanced at her over his shoulder. The tears were falling like rain. It was more than he could bear.

He turned and with long intentional strides bound back up the brick steps. He snatched her up into his arms and crushed her body to his holding her as tightly as he could without causing her physical pain.

Her scent, her warmth - It was almost more than he could take. She was so alive - so there! He wanted her - Needed her so badly…

No Harry…Don't be a fool!

He kissed her…

For a moment the whole world seemed to melt away and the only two left in the universe were them.

Pure love, need and desire burst from inside Hermione like someone had detonated a dam holding back an entire ocean full of emotions - Emotions that had been a void in her life for so many years.

Memories of those vivid dreams played across her mind's eyes like her life flashing before them…

There was no mistaking what was happening - Hermione Granger was falling in love - Perhaps she always had been. Perhaps it had always been there - The fuel awaiting the spark.

The warmth and softness of his lips made her feel alive but the raw power and sheer strength of his embrace gave her a frightening little thrill she had never experienced before. Her hands involuntarily fisted the sleeves of his blouse and she could feel her toes curling inside her sensible shoes.

She was melting into him, their bodies and souls molding together to become one entity.

She knew - at that very moment, she would have let Harry do anything he wanted with her - and to her and she would have loved every minute of it!

…But in the next moment as he pulled away gently…

In the next breath…he was gone…

But as Hermione stood there looking off into the darkness, breathing still slightly ragged, arms wrapped around herself against the sudden cold that pressed against his absence and the sensations of an earth-shattering kiss still tingling on her slightly swollen lips, she did not shed tears this time because she knew Harry loved her back. She had felt it to the very marrow of her bones.

>^..^<

To: Ms. Hermione Granger

Director - Department of Muggle Affairs

Muggle Liaisons Office - Ministry of Magic

Dear Ms. Granger,

You are cordially invited to attend the fifty-fifth birthday celebration of Sir Gregory Stinson Aimsforth - Prime Minister of the British Empire.

The celebration is to commence on Saturday, the twenty-first of May at seven o' clock on that evening. The gala will be held in the Grand Ballroom at Buckingham Palace.

Attire for the event shall be formal and we do look forward to your attendance.

R.S.V.P. would be most appreciated as soon as possible.

Until then, all my love and best regards,

Lady Marguerite Halliburton-Aimsforth

Hermione sat at her desk looking at the invitation wishing it said something else - Anything else! While she respected and admired the Prime Minister and his jovial, outspoken and oft-boisterous First Lady, she had no desire to attend a stuffy formal function but she also knew it was not only their wish for her to be there to meet their youngest son - It was also her duty to her department and position as liaison to the Muggle world.

UGH!

Over the two weeks since Harry had come to dinner at her parents she could think of little else. She had been horribly distracted which was very much unlike her.

Her secretary and personal assistant Abigail gaped at her for a long protracted moment. Finally the young woman's eyes narrowed.

"…and I think we should send the Minister for Magic a dung bomb for Christmas and set it up to go off when he opens the package!"

"That's nice," Hermione replied absently as she continued to sit at her desk staring at the invitation like it had been dipped in bubbotuber pus and set on fire, "He'll like that I'm sure."

"Ms. Granger!" Abby huffed loudly folding her arms glaring at her boss.

Hermione's head snapped up to gape at her assistant in surprise.

"You've not heard a word I've said have you," Abigail groused, "Perhaps I'm a bit out of line and perhaps it's none of my business but what in the name of Merlin is wrong with you? You've been completely out of sorts for over a week now!"

Finally her assistant's words sunk in and Hermione fell back in her chair bringing her hands up to press her palms against her eyes, growling in frustration.

"I'm sorry Abigail. You're absolutely right of course."

Abigail continued to glare at her supervisor but in the next moment a devious little smile crossed the younger woman's visage then a knowing little smirk settled across her lips.

"You've been out of sorts since he came to visit you," Abigail quipped with a tiny giggle.

Hermione's whole demeanor changed to that of indifferent indignation as she sat up, lifting her chin slightly in a look of sheer defiance.

"I've no idea what you're talking about and yes, I think you are getting a bit out of line so I would appreciate it if you would just…just drop it!"

Her assistant stood gaping at her boss open-mouthed for a long pregnant moment then her face crumpled again.

"Are you telling me I'm wrong about that?" Abby huffed, "Ms. Granger what's so bad about being gone on the Savior of the bloody Wizarding World! It's not like he's completely gorgeous or has enough animal magnetism to…"

"…That's nice dear," Hermione hastily interrupted giving her assistant the Granger evil eye, "but we have work to do and I suppose I'm going to have to find a dress for this ridiculous ball I must attend tomorrow night…"

"Not to worry," Abigail smirked again, "Already done! Your gown, along with all the necessary accessories will be delivered to your flat this evening at six o' clock."

"My - What?" Hermione gapped at her assistant.

Abigail just rolled her eyes.

"Oh for the love of…you selected your gown days ago. We found the perfect one in the Twillfitt & Tatting's catalog and you told me to go ahead and order it. The shop is sending a team to do the fitting this evening."

Hermione Granger - the cleverest witch or her age - slumped back in her chair once again looking quite sheepish and feeling completely foolish.

Her assistant was right, she had been completely out-of-sorts since Harry Potter had come back into her life and she was being completely ridiculous for even attempting to ignore it.

She reached for the gold locket that hung around her neck and absently let her fingers play across the cool surface. It had become something of a nervous tick over the last several years.

The locket itself was a simple design, unadorned with the exception of some subtle light golden filigree in swirling patterns across the top. The underside of the locket was smooth with a tiny inscription carved delicately on the base.

She knew the words by heart now but she still did not understand what they meant. Considering they were written in Latin it made her curious to translate them into English but that was as far as she went.

There were times when she contemplated the words but she never pursued them - she wasn't sure why, it was in her base nature, after all, to find answers to puzzling things - but for some reason, in this one case she had decided to let the questions remain unanswered - besides, it was a gift from Harry and she had hoped that one day he would provide the answers to her questions himself.

Da arcane de antidea volui existiti patefactus sum futurum…

The closest translation she could delineate had been…

The secrets of the past will be revealed in the future.

What was even more puzzling to her was that the locket would not open. No matter what spell she used the thing simply would not budge. Part of her wanted to know if there was anything inside but the rest of her simply didn't care. It was a keepsake - One of her most prized possession and she was not about to do something stupid like damage it because of idle curiosity.

> ^..^<

The grand reception for the Prime Minister's birthday celebration held in the formal ballroom at Buckingham Palace was the most spectacular and opulent thing Hermione Granger had ever experienced in her life.

The shimmering silver gown her assistant helped her pick out fit her like a latex glove and - if the reaction from the fitting crew from Twillfitt & Tatting's had been any indication - made her look like Cinderella, Snow White and a Princess all rolled into one incredibly breath-taking package.

She was swept into the reception on the arm of one of the appropriately attired Beefeaters tasked with escorting guests into the event and for what seemed to her like an excruciating length of time - all eyes were on her.

Hundreds of Muggle London's upper crust were in attendance and that included a majority of the members of British Parliament along with many of the Commanding Officers of the British military and their significant others.

They all stood around in groups talking animatedly looking stiff and rigid in their formal attire and as Hermione glided into the room most all conversation muted as they took in the sight of the exquisite creature that had just entered looking like a fallen angel.

Hermione instantly began to feel beads of sweat gathering at her perfectly quaffed hairline and at the subtle curve of her slender but completely exposed lower back.

Thankfully, it was none other that Lady Marguerite Halliburton-Aimsforth who came to her rescue just as Hermione was beginning to panic under the blatant and not-so-blatant scrutiny of her peers.

Lady Margie - as she was known only to her closest friends - swept forward, her ample figure swathed in an elaborate emerald green silk confection, and slipped her pudgy arm in Hermione's and guided her toward the Prime Minister who was in a spirited conversation with the Minister of Foreign Affairs.

"Good heavens Ms. Granger," Margie gushed in her usual jovial way, "You look absolutely ethereal in that dress! I must confess if I were but a few decades younger and quite a few pounds lighter I'd be horribly put out!"

"Nonsense Lady Marguerite," Hermione replied smiling at the First Lady coyly, "You look absolutely ravishing!"

The older woman laughed in a tinkling voice.

"Oh please," she quipped grinning widely, "I know when I've met my match Ms. Granger. Just promise me you won't steal my husband's favors because I'm curtain you will capture his eye…Now come, I want to introduce you to some stodgy and priggish people who will no doubt bore you to tears but are very influential in our world…"

Hermione could not help but love this brazen and outspoken woman. The Prime Minister's wife was well known for her brash nature and if half the rumors about her were true then most knew who really wore the trousers in that relationship.

After an hour or so of being paraded before a small army of VIP's they were all herded into a massive parlor to settle down to an exquisite five course dinner. Hermione felt like royalty as she found herself ensconced between the First Lady and her Muggle/Wizard Liaison, a Mr. Hartford Remington the Third.

"I've scheduled a meeting with some of the members of the Wizengamot…" Hartford began to state but the First Lady gave him such an evil look he froze solid where he sat with his wine glass halfway to his lips.

"This is not the occasion to discuss business Lord Remington," Lady Marguerite hissed lifting her chin defiantly, "I would appreciate it if you would allow Ms. Granger to enjoy herself this evening…in fact…I insist!" She finished her warning with a sharp nod.

Hermione couldn't help but appreciate the First Lady all the more. Lady Margie just glanced at Hermione and gave her a devious little wink as Mr. Remington apologized profusely.

After the exquisite dinner Hermione found herself swept up in several conversations with more than a few members of Parliament. Lady Margie seemed to be steering her by the arm this way and that until they heard an announcement from the entrance that someone had just arrived. Hermione was deep in a conversation with a Lord Something-Or-Other and didn't quite catch the name of the late-comer.

Lady Marguerite's face lit up with a huge smile but was tempered by a slight crease between her perfectly plucked and shaped eyebrows.

"Late as usual," she mumbled, "I swear the boy will be late for his own demise! Gentlemen," she regarded the men in the tight little group practically fawning over Hermione, "If you'll be so kind as to excuse us," the First Lady leaned close to Hermione's ear, "This is the one I've been telling you about!" She whispered conspiratorially.

Once again the First Lady swept Hermione across the ballroom floor as those who stuffed the place to the rafters all greeted both with jovial smiles and quick snippets of conversation as they swept hastily past.

Between the rich food and wine Hermione found herself becoming a bit dizzy and wrung out from all the attention but she simply smiled and allowed her host to drag her along.

When they reached a tight knot of formally attired military types Lady Margie finally came to a stop.

"Ms. Granger," she said in a rather breathless rush, "I'd like you to meet my son, Commander William Ellis Aimsforth of the British Intelligence Service…"

When Commander Aimsforth turned around Hermione almost swallowed her tongue and choked on her own spittle.

He was one of the most gorgeous men she had ever seen in her life. He was tall, slender but very well built, blond and had chiseled features that could have graced any magazine publication anywhere in the world.

His piercing blue eyes settled on her and the smile that crossed his sculpted lips could have melted the polar ice cap in seconds.

For reasons she could not ascertain Hermione felt her face grow as hot as a furnace and a small involuntary shudder ran through her body as she stood there gawking mutely at the almost unreal man before her.

When he bent low at the waist, taking her limp hand in his and kissed the back of it lightly she heard a very subtle chuckle from the First Lady standing beside her. It was that response that finally snapped her out of her strange stupor.

Hermione blinked rapidly to try and gather her wits back about her feeling completely stupid.

"It's…It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Commander," Hermione said breathlessly.

His eyes seemed to bore right into her very soul as he straightened up looking down at her for a long uncomfortable moment.

"Believe me, Ms. Granger," he replied in a soft but horribly masculine voice that seemed to go right to Hermione's nervous system short circuiting all kinds of strange emotional and physical responses, "The pleasure is all mine."

He abruptly turned to the First Lady, his right eyebrow raised and a look of affected condemnation on his too handsome face.

"Mother," he quipped, "You weren't very honest with me."

"I beg your pardon," Lady Margie put a hand over her ample breast looking taken aback, "What on earth…"

"You told me she was exceptionally beautiful," her son cut across her indignation, "but you didn't tell me Ms. Granger was a living Goddess!"

The tension that suddenly pressed down on the small group seemed to vanish as mother and son shared a quiet laugh between them.

"Oh, you can be such a devious so-an-so at times William," Lady Margie chuckled, "Don't embarrass Ms. Granger, it's not polite."

Hermione hadn't realized her face had taken on a look of horror at the words of her son and it took her another moment to regain some semblance of self-control.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Lady Margie smiled widely as she patted Hermione lightly on the shoulder, "I best go rescue your father before he consumes too much wine and unwittingly concedes the British Empire to the French."

"Very amusing mother," William laughed, then turned his full attention to Hermione who was still standing in front of him completely mute, "Please allow me to apologize on my mother's behalf. I must confess she has conspired this meeting for weeks now trying desperately to bring us together. I hope you're not too put out by all this."

"Umm," Hermione stammered, she shook her head slightly to clear her semi-befuddled state, "Well, knowing your mother as well as I think I do, I shouldn't be all that surprised. She did mention something about wanting me to meet you but I…" her voice trailed off not certain what she wanted to say.

Commander William Aimsforth smiled in a slow dreamy way that drove up the temperature in the room again.

"But the illustrious Ms. Granger is not in the habit of allowing those around her to pressure her into doing things that go against her nature."

Her first reaction to his statement was to be flattered but as his words sunk into her conscious mind the feeling of irritation bubbled up under the surface.

This man doesn't know me well enough to make that conjecture! How dare he make assumptions!

Besides, it wasn't what she had been thinking when she had responded. She was thinking about Harry.

"While I appreciate your flattery and solicitude Commander Aimsforth please don't pretend to know what I'm thinking or what my motives are. You may just find your self prescribed intuition horribly incorrect."

William did not seem the least bit phased by her admonition. He only smiled and bowed again slightly.

"I stand utterly corrected and beg your forgiveness for being a complete lecherous buffoon!"

Hermione couldn't help but crack a smile at that.

"Careful there Commander or I will begin to question your sincerity," she shot back.

"Oh believe me Ms. Granger," he quipped, "I do not consider myself above reproach nor do I think myself infallible. One only requires spending a little time with my mother to realize how horrible inept one really is in the face of true greatness."

Hermione couldn't help but find herself completely disarmed by this utterly physically attractive man standing before her and the fact that he seemed charming, witty and intelligent wasn't helping her self-control in the slightest.

"No truer words were ever spoken Commander," she smiled broadly.

"Well," he smiled down at her, "In the face of my complete ineptitude and shame can I interest you in a glass of champagne? I assure you mother and father have spared no expense and my mother's taste is quite impeccable in regards to said bubbly."

"Since you put it that way Commander," Hermione replied with a slight sneer rolling her eyes, "How could I possibly refuse."

William held out his arm and Hermione found herself slipping her into his as she allowed herself to be guided to a white linen draped table that contained a pyramid of champagne glasses.

The rest of the evening was spent in the company of the good Commander of the British Intelligence Service and Hermione found herself relaxing even though this man's physical attraction to her was palpable.

As the evening wore on they found themselves alone out on one of the many balconies looking out over nighttime London. William had even been chivalrous enough to drape his formal uniform jacket over her bare shoulders as they sat in the cool evening air.

The Commander had simply watched Hermione for a long moment but his gaze did not seem inappropriate. He was simply regarding her so she decided to do likewise.

He finally spoke in his usual calm tone that seemed to resonate against her chest as she sat on a cushioned bench looking out over the sparkling lights of the city.

"I think my devious mother's plan was to put us together to see if sparks would fly and her wild son would finally find someone that would tame his restless soul and cause him to settle down…"

Hermione moved to respond to his declaration but he simply held up his hand to stall her.

"Ms. Granger, I think you are one of the most beautiful, intelligent and unique women I have ever had the pleasure to meet in my entire life but I am no fool. Not only do you live in a world completely separate from my own I am almost certain there is someone in your life that already possesses your heart." He smiled and it was only touched with a hint of sadness, "How am I doing so far?"

"Well…umm, I," Hermione stammered completely taken aback, "You know about…that? About us?" She was fairly certain she didn't have to elaborate.

William smiled raising a finger in the air between them pointing at the night sky.

"British Intelligence," he quipped grinning broadly, "It's not just a euphemistic contradiction of term."

Hermione brought a hand to her mouth to cover her own sardonic grin but she knew her eyes gave her away regardless.

"Of course," she snipped, "How silly of me and yes Commander, in this instance your intuition has done you justice. There is…someone."

Hermione's eyes wandered off as her right hand subconsciously reached for the locket again. Not for the first time that evening she wondered where Harry was at that very moment and when she might be able to see him again.

"I suppose you think me quite transparent don't you Commander?" Hermione asked nonplused.

"Not at all Ms. Granger," he replied as equally confident, "you simply have that look."

"That look?" Hermione asked surprised and a bit confused.

"Indeed," William smiled languorously, "The look that most all women have when they are thinking about the men they are terribly in love with. It's like a far-away dreamy look. Perhaps it's a subconscious thing, I'm not sure. I'd like to think there have been ladies who have thought of me that way but I'm not quite that self-assured. I think a man has to earn that and it takes time, attention and a lot of love, yes?"

"You are wise beyond your years Commander," Hermione smiled sadly, "I'm sorry if…"

William stalled her with a raised hand once again.

"You've nothing to apologize for Ms. Granger. It's I who should be apologizing to you for my mother's devious behavior…"

"Erm…you already did I think."

"Yes, well," he continued, "She's just trying to help, in her own way and it's really not wisdom - It's more to do with my overly observant nature. It's part of what makes a competent agent in the British Secret Service."

"Your mother loves you and at the risk of sounding horribly full of myself, she just wants the best for you…not that I'm considering myself as…"

"I think I'm clever enough to know what you mean Ms. Granger," William smirked, "I will admit that I am just a bit disappointed. You are an amazing woman and regardless of what you think of yourself, you are one of a kind. Whoever this bloke is that has your heart…I hope he realizes just how fortunate he is."

Those last words almost undid her right then and there. Hermione had to fight to hold back the tears that threatened to explode from the depths of her soul. She swallowed hard and forced herself to keep the deep emotions from showing on her face so she plastered her lips with the best fake smile she could conjure.

"You're very kind but it's horribly complicated Commander and I'm not sure how comfortable I am discussing it."

"I understand," William replied.

"I suppose your mother is going to be horribly disappointed in me," Hermione said, "but just so you know Commander, I think you're one of the most handsome men I've ever met. Not only that you're intelligent, well spoken, charming and very easy-going - Not to mention you look smashing in a formal uniform. I can't imagine you having any trouble attracting the attention of the fairer sex."

William grinned and Hermione could see small patches of pink adorn his almost perfect cheeks.

"Your kindness and congeniality is most appreciated Ms. Granger and to answer your un-asked question the answer is no, I certainly won't insult your own intelligence by acting as if I want for attention in that regard. Up until this evening most of the ladies I have had the privilege to escort have mostly all been…how can I put this politely…" His voice trailed of in retrospection.

"Self-serving debutants and empty-headed giggly little girls," Hermione quipped smirking.

William simply pointed a finger at her with a devious grin.

"Precisely," William smiled widely, "Well said and don't worry about mother. I'll explain things but see here, I would like to think that we could at least remain friends. I must admit that I do admire your strength of character and you've accomplished some amazing things in only a few short years, quite remarkable really. The next time you find yourself in London I do hope you won't be a stranger even if you're not alone. I'm not so shallow as not to welcome the man who managed to capture the heart of the famous Hermione Granger."

Hermione nodded smiling easily now.

"The invitation is quite mutual Commander William Aimsforth and perhaps you will one day have the privilege to meet Harry Potter…"

"Harry Potter?" William's head snapped up and gawked at her for a moment.

His response caught her completely off guard. William's face slowly morphed into a knowing wide grin.

"Well that explains things!" He said.

"Erm…" Hermione stammered, "You know…erm…Harry?"

"Indeed I do Ms. Granger," William replied still grinning, "We've worked together on a few assignment over the last few years. Quiet bloke - a bit scary in some ways but amiable enough. If I could do just a fraction of the things he can I'd be a bleeding superman! I watched him levitate one of those large refuse bins, flip it upside down and capture two suspects trying to break into a jewelry store. It was just by chance, mind you. We had been dispatched on a completely different assignment at the time. I can't really go into details, you understand but I was quite stunned by the sheer power he possessed. He's not the bloke to cross is my assessment."

"I didn't realize…" Hermione began to say still feeling quite put out.

"There are a few of us in the Intelligence Bureau that have clearance and classification to access your world. Not many, mind you but we're out there just the same. I would appreciate it if you'd keep that information to yourself though. My superiors would probably hemorrhage if they knew I was telling you this but I'm fairly certain I can trust you of all people Ms. Granger."

"Of course," she huffed, "Don't be silly!"

It wasn't much longer and Hermione found that she had almost completely run out of steam. The wine and champagne had conspired to turn her into a human jellyfish and the good Commander Aimsforth insisted on escorting her home. With a friendly kiss on the cheek to bid him goodnight and thanking him for a wonderful evening she made her way into her flat, stripped off her finery not even bothering to hang it properly and dumped herself into her large bed with thoughts of Harry Potter - Secret Agent working undercover with the British Intelligence Service swirling in her partially inebriated mind.

Oh, how badly I want that man… How badly I wish he were here this very moment…

She fell asleep clutching the golden locket in her right fist.

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