The Last Turner of Time

The Last Turner of Time

All Harry Potter related characters and other descriptive elements belong to J.K. Rowling. The concept of this story is for private use only and may not be reprinted or distributed in any way, shape or form.

Chapter One

The unusually bright moonlight washed in through the floor to ceiling windows filtered to a gossamer glow by the thin gauze sheers billowing in the soft autumn breeze causing light and shadow to dance in a twirling cadence across the floor.

It was mostly silent except for the occasional night song of a cricket somewhere in the shadowy places of the small park across the street.

Hermione Jean Granger lay in her bed lost in a restless, uneasy sleep. For the past few weeks she had been troubled by those all-to-vivid reoccurring dreams. The images that flashed behind her eyelids were frightening, confusing and dark. Memories haunted her…always haunting.

It began the same - surrounded by complete oppressing darkness…

There was the sensation of flying - hurling through the blackness in a direction she could not see.

Scenes appeared out of the all-encompassing nothingness - Shifting as if she were on one of those old fashioned carnival fun-house rides…

She was at the cottage - His new cottage at Godric's Hollow. All three of them were there. Moments later they were running - running for the front door. She heard herself yelling for him to wait. She turned to see a face, a mask of terror and apprehension. She watched herself tear out after him with another right behind…

The scene shifted, blackness blanking the vision a moment until it changed…

She was at the Burrow. Curses and spells flying in every direction. Order members and Death Eaters fell everywhere. The house was in flames. She looked up and saw it - The Dark Mark hung high in the night sky - Mocking, proclaiming victory. It was as if the writhing green visceral serpent was feeding on the flames, death and destruction below.

Darkness, then another scene…

She was now standing on the wild and unkempt grounds surrounding the Riddle House. She saw herself kneeling over a figure sprawled out, perfectly outlined in the high grass. She could see the wide eyed, open-mouthed expression of his face - The face of the boy she had come to love - The milky white haze in his eyes confirmed her worst fear…once again.

The scene shifted again…

She was standing in a dark, decrepit but ornate great room decorated in turn-of-the-century styles. The walls were stained, expensive wall paper pealing in tectonic sheets. Tendrils of paint hung from the ceiling like the fingers of skeletons reaching down, waiting to wrench souls free from their corporal forms. What once would have been considered priceless rugs and antiques were now reduced to moldering ruin. Cob webs draped the massive crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room. It was a bleak and dreary place…a place of death.

She watched again as he - The Chosen One - The Boy Who Lived - The Savior of the Wizarding World - The only one known to have ever survived the Killing Curse - stood face to face with their bitterest enemy. She heard herself scream his name as she watched helplessly. He - defiantly dropping his wand at his feet.

She watched as the face of pure evil became enraged at this simple act of defiance. He let out a visceral high-pitched scream that echoed in her head, stabbing at her mind like a dagger.

In a blinding blast of green light the room was filled with a deafening explosion that rattled the very foundation of the house itself. When the roiling smoke dissipated and the swirling dust settled - only one teen-aged boy was left standing…

Darkness swallowed her once more…

Now she was standing in the doorway of a dimly lit room. She saw her own hand and wand pointing at the back of a tall silver-blonde haired young man standing near the back silhouetted by a window. As he turned to face her she heard herself utter the words - words to a spell she never thought she could say.

In another flash of bright green light the figure crumpled in a heap in the shadows of the dark room and lay lifeless in a swirling cloud of dust.

She turned then and saw his face - She could see the utter shock and dismay on his bruised and battered visage as she walked passed without a word.

The world faded to black…

She was now watching him coming out of the depths of the Riddle House carrying the shattered and bloody remains of a slender red-haired girl. His face contorted in raw grief and rage so strong the air crackled with electricity around him.

Others were there now but no-one dare approach him. He laid her body on the damp grass and stepped back, head bowed, hands clenched in tight fists. He was shaking from head to toe.

When she looked up the Riddle House exploded in an all-encompassing tower of billowing flames.

The sound of the destruction was unmistakable. It was as if the house was being consumed by a living, breathing thing…

It was then she saw it…

In the darkness, masked against the bright orange and yellow glow of the raging inferno that engulfed the huge mansion - She saw his eyes…and the hideous red glow that flashed across them for just a single beat of a human heart - but it had been there - she had seen it…and the pure terror that filled her had no name…

Hermione woke with a violent start. Her body was bathed in sweat and all her limbs tangled in the bed linens.

She stopped struggling and tried to calm her gasping breath, the pain throbbing at her temples almost unbearable.

After she extracted herself from the confines of her bed she rolled off the side and silently padded her way to the adjoining bathroom in her trendy and modern flat in downtown Muggle London.

The bathroom was large. It was tiled - floor and walls, with large black and white checker board pattern ceramic. On the left was a large glass-enclosed double-headed shower stall in front of a huge refurbished, antique cast iron claw-foot tub. The tub was surrounded by a tiled ledge covered in candles and small baskets of flowers.

On the right near the entrance to the bathroom was a door to her cavernous walk-in closet. Set on the wall next to it was a black lacquer, floor to ceiling cabinet that ran half the length of the bathroom. The rest of the right wall was covered with smoked mirror. Set in front of that was a black pedestal sink and a black lavatory set in the far right corner.

Set in the back wall was a floor to ceiling glass block window that let natural light flood the space in the day…but at the moment the space was filled with the same ethereal glow of the full moon that washed across the sparking tile floor like a spectral wave.

Hermione stepped up to the sink, grasping the edges she leaned over the bowl for a moment, hunched over trying desperately to get control of her shuddering form. With a trembling hand she reached for the stopper and placed it in the bottom of the black shiny basin. With a twist of her slender wrist she turned on the cold water and let the basin fill as she closed her eyes and tried to calm the raging emotional tempest inside her.

A bead of sweat rolled off the tip of her tiny nose and fell, lost in the swirling water that filled the basin.

Letting go of the sides of the basin she straightened and, crossing her arms she grabbed the hem of her sweat-soaked tank top and pulled it off over her head whipping her long mane sideways as she let the soaked garment fall to the floor. It clung to her slender body like a second skin. The color of gold glinted in the pale light.

The night air, kissed with a veiled hint of the coming season caressed her over-heated skin causing goose bumps to rise all over and her woman's body to react in a most sensual way as if caressed by a lover's touch…but with the dark thoughts plaguing her, she barely noticed.

The sink filled, she reached out to turn off the tap and the room - her entire world, it seemed - was plunged into silence. She watched as the water in the basin settled to form a smooth glassy surface that reflected her worn and beleaguered face until another drop of sweat dripped from her nose to mare the placid pool, obscuring her reflection.

She reached out again, this time to the right to a towel rack attached to the side of the cabinet next to the sink. She snatched a washcloth from the gleaming chrome bar and plunged it into the basin.

She then withdrew the dripping washcloth and raising her hand over her head...

She squeezed.

Cool water cascaded down over her sweat-soaked head and rushed to as many over heated places as it could reach. She rubbed the dripping cloth across the back of her neck, down over each shoulder and over her breasts not caring that the tile at her feet became spattered with droplets like a rain shower in early spring.

She dipped the cloth back into the basin and doused herself again - This time, a steady stream of the cool fluid coursed down her spine under the back of the tiny boy shorts, between her firm bottom and farther to trace a path across her most private place.

Her whole body shuddered as if she had been caressed by an invisible finger gliding feather light across her most sensitive spot. The goose flesh appeared again and her knees gave way to an almost alien sensation of sensual bliss.

She had to grip both sides of the basin again to steady herself taking her lower lip between her teeth and closing her eyes tightly until the sensation passed.

She was panting.

Memories of the dream swirled in her exhausted mind, paging through the images until a face came into sharp focus behind her eyelids.

Why his?

Hermione soaked herself again and as the cool liquid found the depths of her body lights exploded behind her eyelids obliterating the disembodied face that hovered there. She allowed the sensation to carry her away…

She was no longer in her flat in London. She had been carried back to that small quaint cottage nestled in the shadows of the hills that ringed the valley. She could see it clearly.

She moved inside. She was naked, lying on the floor of the small sitting room on a pallet of blankets and soft pillows in front of a warm fire in the small stone fireplace.

Someone was behind her, an arm draped casually over her middle. She was covered in sweat and shaking slightly, the feeling of utter bliss settling over her like a warm, soft blanket. She had never felt so alive - so utterly fulfilled and at peace.

When she slowly rolled over she found herself starring into his beautiful green eyes…

As soon as recognition hit her she jumped, pushing herself away from the sink, a wild bewildered look staring back at her from the mirror. She dropped the cloth from her trembling hand and started shaking uncontrollably. She wrapped herself tightly with her arms as if to keep all her bits from falling to the floor in a jumble of unrecognizable pieces.

Unstoppable tears coursed down her cheeks falling to the immaculate shiny tiled floor as her body was wracked with silent sobs, mouth open wide in a silent scream.

How could you!

The haunting words reverberated in her head like the echo of a tolling bell.

She had desecrated those feelings she once had for another betraying the memories she held onto so tightly - but then another voice filled her mind's ear.

…It's been three years - It's time Hermione…time to let him go…

How can I possibly? We had so little time.

But as those thoughts drifted into the dark recesses inside her conscious mind she had begun to feel the dawning of new sensations - Ones that had been creeping into her for the past few weeks. It was undeniable need and yearning to be touched and wanted and…loved again.

Her self-imposed solitary existence was testing even her stalwart endurance. Besides…there were those who simply would not allow her to fall to loneliness and despair.

The unbidden thoughts and fantasies filled her dreams often now along with the haunting memoires. She seemed powerless to stop them. It was as if her own mind was trying to pull her from the wreckage of her dark and debilitating past.

As Hermione stared into the mirror across the moonlit room droplets of water still glistened from her mostly naked body. The glint of gold flashed in the reflection once again, this time arresting her gaze on the locket and fine gold chain that hung from her slender neck, the locket nestled quite easily between her breasts.

It was as if she had only just remembered it was there…but she knew it had been there for over three years now and it never left her - not ever. Another memory invaded her mind…

Three years to the day…and it's his birthday - July 31^st.

Hermione took the locket in her hand and peered down at it. Her emotions were a jumble and her mind fatigued, but in the confusion she wondered where he was tonight. She wondered if he thought of her at all.

She wondered why he had separated himself almost completely from her world. Hermione knew - it was the darkness that plagued him. She had seen - It had scared her and she had recoiled from him just that once - but it had been enough…

She wondered if he had dreams and fantasies as she did…

NO! He wouldn't!

She chastised herself, closing her eyes tightly.

He would never betray the memory of his love that way! He's made of stronger stuff Granger! You're the weak one…

As she realized those things the emptiness and utter desolation of her life washed over her like an invisible crushing tidal wave.

She just barely managed to make the edge of her tub before her knees buckled and she sat heavily on the tiled edge, bending double trying desperately not to vomit.

There in the silence of the moon-washed night she could feel the unmistakable shattering of her very soul…once again.

---@>---

Morning brought with it bright sun light. As she opened her weary eyes she became instantly aware she was not alone…but no panic or fear caused her to lurch upright.

She instantly recognized the all too familiar scent of her mother's perfume as she blearily realized the older Granger was moving about her room - putting away laundry.

Daphne Granger turned toward the disheveled bed with a slight smirk.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” she chuckled, “I called at eight but when there was no answer I thought you might have gone in to the office. Thought I'd bring round your clean things you left the other night.”

All Hermione could manage was a mumble of something wholly unintelligible and rolled to her side, covering her head with her comforter.

Her mother stopped and peered at her for a moment appraisingly as mothers are often want to do when their brilliant and presently enigmatic offspring act completely out of character.

The elder Granger could not help notice the deep bruise-colored circles beneath her child's eyes before she flipped the covers over her head.

“Oh dear,” her mother said putting the laundry basket on the floor.

She moved to the side of the huge bed and sat near where she suspected her daughter's head to be.

“Must have been a bad one.”

She peeled the covers back to expose her daughter's head and shoulders. Reaching out she gently stroked Hermione's hair.

The Granger matriarch knew all about the things that plagued her daughter - The nightmares that haunted her in the night.

Even though they were her parents, her mother and father had been largely shielded from the war. Hermione had cleverly modified their memories and sent them to the wilds of Australia while all hell broke loose in Wizard London.

After it was all over she brought them back and with the assistance of Minerva McGonagall they had planted memories of a well earned and very restful vacation in their minds.

It was a guilt that Hermione had carried with her mounted on top of everything else but she justified her actions because her parents were still alive, unlike many others she had known. Loosing them would have been the final blow that would have sent her into the abyss with no chance of ever finding her way out.

The death of Ronald Bilius Weasley had pushed her right to the edge but another had reached down and pulled her back from the brink just short of too late. The wounds were still bleeding and raw…even after all this time but she knew she owed him her life…in more ways than one.

After a while, with the gentle prodding at the hands of her wise and cleaver mother Hermione had decided to confide in her all that had happened while they were away. It became therapy for her.

She felt her mother handled it all rather well for someone with no magical aptitude - only fainting once.

Her father, on the other hand, was blissfully unaware of any of it because Hermione was certain if he knew the truth, even just the basic facts, he would never allow his only child to set foot in the wizard world again…ever!

It was this secret she shared with her mother that served to bring them closer than they had ever been. It was something Hermione needed desperately. Their talks had helped keep her from loosing all vestiges of sanity and aided in a lightening of the constant crushing weight of grief and loss.

But, as she constantly reminded herself, there was another who had played a pivotal roll in helping her through the first days after…it was something she would never forget.

Daphne looked down at her daughter.

“Want to talk about it?”

Hermione slithered out from under the covers to wrap her arms around her mother's waist burrowing her head in her lap letting the tears of utter exhaustion and frustration go again.

She told her mother everything - well - almost everything. She didn't feel the need to share the knowledge she had a near orgasmic experience thinking about doing it with the bloody Savior of the Wizard World! There were just some things one needed to keep to one's self.

Daphne leaned back against the dark mahogany headboard and started gently rubbing her beleaguered daughter's head.

“Oh sweetheart,” her mother whispered, “There's nothing wrong with wanting to move on. I know how you felt about Ron,” she paused, “but I don't think even he would have wanted you to lock yourself away like this pining over him for the rest of your days. It isn't healthy.”

Funny…That's exactly what Ron would have wanted…

It was the first thought that popped into Hermione's mind after her mother had said it but she chastised herself for it vehemently. Her mother went on…

“You know I would never tell you what to do with your life dear but I wish - I wish you would allow yourself to make peace with your past. I won't lie to you darling. I don't like standing by and watching these memoires haunt you relentlessly. It tears my heart out knowing you're so…so miserable.”

Her mother began to cry softly and pulled Hermione into a tight embrace. She leaned back and kissed her mother on the tear-soaked cheek as her own tears continued to fall.

She knew her mother was right. It was time to drag herself out of the darkness that encompassed her life. It seemed the nightmare had been real since the day she had stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, punctuated only by a few brief moments of joy and happiness.

One of those moments was when she entered their compartment in the guise of helping Neville Longbottom look for his missing toad Trevor. That was the very day her life changed forever…

…But it was time. Time to move passed all the pain and misery - Time to move forward.

With a renewed sense of purpose she got out of bed, showered, got dressed in some old faded sweats and sweatshirt and helped her mother put the rest of her things away. With only a little pleading Daphne convinced Hermione to come home with her and spend her Saturday with her folks - and that's precisely what she did.

She helped her mother with her everyday mundane chores and even assisted her father in painting the trim and shutters on the house - with the assistance of some covert magic, of course. Her father was so grateful for her help he took them to Hermione's favorite Italian restaurant for dinner that evening.

Returning home she felt life returning to her slowly, even though she was mentally and physically exhausted. She fell into bed that night and slept completely dream free for the first time in her recent memory…and it felt good.

The next morning, while sitting at her small black marble-topped bar separating the small stainless steel kitchen from her sitting room reading the Daily Prophet, she heard a soft tapping on the small window set at the end of the bar.

It was a tawny owl with a fancy light blue envelope attached. She raised the sash as the owl held out its leg for her. She untied the letter, reached over to a small stainless bowl she kept full of owl treats (she received a lot of correspondence from members of the Ministry as a result of her job) and gave a few to the very appreciative owl and off he flew.

She settled back in her bar stool and looked at the envelope for a moment. Her name was written in perfect calligraphic script across the front in rich dark ink. Opening it up she slipped out a card.

On the front were the white silhouettes of a man and a woman holding hands facing one-another. The woman was in what Hermione saw was unmistakably a wedding gown, complete with tiara, veil and train. The man wore an old-fashioned top hat and tails. Above their heads were two white bells with a ribbon holding them together. The whole thing was embossed on the face of the card. She thought it beautiful as she let the pads of her fingers glide gently over the raised images, smiling sadly.

When she opened the card she found inside the same perfect calligraphy announcing the pending union of Neville Franklin Longbottom to one Destiny Rachel Lattermore. The blessed union was to take place a week from that day and her attendance was respectfully requested by the bride-to-be and her groom.

Strange…I don't even know a Destiny Rachel Lattermore…

…But Hermione knew that hardly mattered. She was well acquainted with the groom.

At the bottom of the card were two very elaborately drawn “L's” leaning into one another linked at the top. Hermione thought it very sweet.

So Neville's getting married! I'm very happy for him. I just hope this girl is sweet and good to him.

Her first reaction was to decline but as she sat there sipping her Earl Grey she decided otherwise. She reasoned her mother was right. She needed to stop hiding in her office until all hours of the night then running to her flat, (even though she loved her flat), and hiding herself away like a bleeding hermit.

Pretty soon she was going to start turning into Gollum, the freaky little character from The Lord of the Rings, the one who used to be known as Smeagol before he came into possession of the ring of power!

Eek! Can't let that happen can I?

And give up the wardrobe? Not on your life!

She decided she would send an R.S.V.P. (réspondez s'il vous plaît ) when she got to her office first thing in the morning.

Besides, someone's got to put a stamp of approval on this girl! However, if she's passed the Gran test then she's more than adequate.

---@>---

Harry Potter sat in the sitting room at his new residence in Godric's Hollow. He purchased the home of an old Hogwarts History of Magic professor. It was small on the outside but had a magically larger and very comfortable living space within.

He had decided to donate #12 Girmmuald Place to the Order of the Phoenix for their meeting and general gatherings. He felt it's what Sirius and Remus would have wanted him to do.

The Order had flourished after the final confrontation and its membership soared into the hundreds shortly after. The study at the old Black home had to be magically enlarged to accommodate all the new members. Harry was one of them.

Shortly after the fall of Lord Voldemort and some of his minions Kingsley Shacklebolt was permanently placed as Minister and it didn't take long for significant and sweeping changes to occur throughout the Wizard world.

Shortly after that, the Minister, along with some none-too-gentile prodding from Minerva McGonagall, convinced Harry to join the ranks of the Aurors and began his training. In a program that usually spanned 13 months, Harry finished in 10. Over the next two years he found himself climbing through the ranks to become a Captain, or as Kinsley liked to refer to Harry as his Trouble Shooter.

When a witch or wizard baring the dark mark was sighted, Harry was always there, however, it wasn't long until his impatience and impetuousness cost him dearly.

On a cold rainy night he was dispatched to Liverpool on a report several possible Death Eaters were in the area. Harry was first on the scene (as usual) but ignored Kingsley's order to wait for back-up. When he charged in he found himself surrounded by several very nasty werewolves and they didn't take too kindly to the intrusion. They had been a part of the raid on Hogwarts for the other side.

Harry had been lucky to escape with his life. One of the older werewolves had jumped him from behind raking a claw across his face. It took out his right eye and left a nasty scar that ran from the end of the lightning bolt shaped one to about two inches below his eye. The werewolf was in full transformation.

Luckily for Harry help arrived just before the lycan sank his fangs into his neck. A well placed reducto blasted the beast off him and into the end of a steel pipe sticking out of the wall. It pierced the werewolf right through the chest. He was dead in seconds.

It took several weeks and some incredibly intensive and excruciatingly painful therapy to heal, but just as it was with Bill Weasley - it wasn't just the scars that remained. Harry's lycanthropic infection was a bit more severe but not bad enough that he would fully turn.

On or nearing full moons he found he would grow a bit. His fingers would lengthen and his nails would sharpen a little. He could feel his k-nines grow a bit longer and sharper as well. Just enough to press against his lips. His wild and untamable hair would get a bit longer and...even less tamable.

He would also become moody and restless and would be quick to temper with very little provocation. He would seek solitude during those times and Kingsley would cover for him.

It was one of the best kept secrets at the Ministry. Those involved in the incident were either memory wiped or forced to undergo the Fedelius. It would not due to have the Savior of the Wizard World branded a monster. It was Madam Pomfrey who came to the rescue along with the help of Headmistress McGonagall and a few Unspeakables at the Department of Mysteries. They had worked together to develop a fool-proof glamor for Harry that would hide his scars and the milky-white dead right eye.

The focus object for the glamor was a rather ingenious idea - it was a tattoo. They had placed a small tattoo of the Gryffindor coat of arms on his upper-right shoulder and placed the glamor on it.

As a result of his affliction he had made a conscious decision to remove himself from many of his old friend's lives - Hermione being the most significant. He knew she would eventually discover his secret if he stayed around. She had already realized there was something different about Harry after the final confrontation with Voldemort. It had scared her. He had seen the sheer look of terror on her face.

Now - He was certain there was no way she would understand what he had become so he separated himself from her world almost completely - and it hurt…a lot!

As he sat eating a spot of breakfast Kreacher had made him he heard the unmistakable sound of a Postal Owl land on the perch built for that very reason just outside the kitchen window.

Kreacher poked his head around the corner of the doorway leading from the dining area to the kitchen.

“Can Kreacher get Harry Potter anything else before Kreacher leaves for Hogwarts?”

“No…no thank you Kreacher, I'm fine but I appreciate you asking.”

“It is Kreacher who is thankful Harry Potter.” With that the wizened old elf snapped his fingers and was gone.

Kreacher had followed Harry of his own free will. Though he was now a free elf (it had been part of the deal), he split his time between Harry's, #12 during Order meetings and the kitchens at Hogwarts. He was a busy little elf these days but loved his life.

Since Dobby's death Harry's outlook towards house elves had changed. His attitude was more along the lines of Hermione's old Society for the Preservation of Elfish Welfare movement.

It took several attempts at getting Kreacher to accept his freedom and every time the barmy old elf would try to do himself in. It was after he found Kreacher trying to hang himself from the pot rack over the island in the kitchen he decided to take a different approach. He simply ordered Kreacher to accept a pair of worn out socks.

As soon as the old elf accepted his fate and took the socks Kreacher found out that freedom wasn't the end…it was actually the beginning of a whole new life and he liked it very much.

The elf was now paid a salary for his services, both from Harry and the Order of the Phoenix. When he first attempted to take his money and deposit it in Gringotts, the Goblins wouldn't even let him in the door. After he had returned to Godric's Hollow and told Harry what had happened Harry simply went to Diagon Alley and paid the Goblins a little visit.

Needless to say the Goblins were very cordial and friendly to the little elf after. It just happened to be on a day just prior to the full moon…

Harry and Kreacher became inseparable after that. Gone was Kreachers incessant loyalty to those of his past. After a while even he became weary of the old Black matriarchs wailing portrait.

It had been during a meeting of the Order one evening. Justin Finch-Fletchly had just arrived when he sneezed. The old Black woman started screaming her usual epithets at everyone. When she insulted Harry Kreacher seemed to snap. With a powerful burst of magic he incinerated the painting with a wave of his tiny hand. Everyone was stunned.

When Arthur Weasley asked Kreacher why he did it he just shrugged his little shoulders and croaked, quite frankly, “No one insults the one who dispatched He Who Must Not Be Named - Not even her!”

Harry got up and fetched several letters. Some were official communications from the Ministry, one a fancy light blue envelope with his name in fancy script across the front. He already knew it was his invitation to Neville's wedding.

Since Neville had become Harry's (sometimes) partner over the past year they had become closer than ever. His respect for his fellow Gryffindor and D.A. member had grown immensely after not only what the bloke did at Hogwarts to stir up trouble at the cost of great pain but also pulling the sword from the Sorting Hat and dispatching that dirty great snake. (As Ron had once called it)

The last was a small folded piece of parchment containing a green wax seal. He also knew exactly who that was from as well…

Gabrielle Delacour!

The instantly recognizable beautifully swirling hand and the hint of her maddeningly sensual perfume was enough to make Harry grin stupidly as if the gorgeous young half-Veela was standing in front of him at that moment.

They had become close after Voldemort fell. Unknown to most everyone, Gabrielle and Ginny had become fast friends. It was a bit surprising to discover since Ginny had made no secret of her disdain for Gabrielle's older sister Fleur.

After hearing of Ginny's death Gabrielle knew almost at once Harry would be devastated because Ginny had confided many thing to her about her love for the Boy Who Lived.

It was not long after Hermione left Godric's Hollow Gabrielle started contacting him. She had become a constant source of tender kindness and healing for him. It didn't hurt that Gabrielle, being half-Veela, had a most unusual calming effect on him around the times of the full moon.

Not long after she began writing to him she started visiting his home on a semi-regular basis. Now, at 17, Gabrielle had become even more beautiful and alluring than her older sister, (much to the consternation of Fleur because it grated on the elder's sense of vanity) however, Gabrielle was nothing like her sister. She was very intelligent, down-to-Earth, sweet and kind and compassionate. The girl had developed some mad magical skills as well.

She was also the stuff of almost every young man's fantasy (and most older ones too.) and the envy of almost every young woman breathing. The little part Veela wasn't so little any more. With her long silvery-blond hair, sparkling light grey eyes and perfect female body, she had become a force within herself. It was impossible to ignore her presence.

Even though the petite Delacour had become so incredibly seductive and desirable, she and Harry remained only friends and it was in their friendship Harry found healing and it was a relationship he valued highly.

Harry smiled as he broke the wax seal and began to read her letter written in her perfect swirling hand.

`Harry Dearest,

I hope this letter finds you well, mon cheri. I miss you immensely. I am not only writing to inquire how you are getting along but also to inform you that I have received an invitation to Neville Longbottom's pending nuptials. I am very excited. I adore weddings and all manner of happy occasions. I do hope you are planning to attend as I will be most sad and disappointed if you are not there. I do miss our weekends at the cottage and hope we can find time to share one again soon. I realize we are both very busy these days but that is a terrible excuse, no? I have much to share with you mon ami!

Until the wedding, take care of my Harry and keep him safe. Your friend and confidant as always…Gabrielle.'

The way she signed her name made Harry smile. It was a mass of swirling looping letters, perfectly written and formed. The perfume was having a rather un-platonic effect on other parts of him.

She does that on purpose the little Nymph…

He certainly couldn't disappoint her after a letter like that. He consulted the lunar calendar hung on the wall of his small study and discovered the moon would be waxing on the night of the wedding so he should be fine.

Not long after the final conflict and Voldemort's downfall Harry had been approached one evening during a meeting of the Order by then acting Headmistress Minerva McGonagall about what his plans were for the future. He couldn't answer. It was then she had suggested Auror training.

Harry had little time to think of such things before that. He had spent the better part of a week in seclusion at his cottage with a desperately distraught Hermione Granger. Reflecting back on it as he leaned back in his desk chair, he could still feel the cold emptiness that had gripped him then. Both he and Hermione had their worlds ripped from them like the tearing of their very souls.

For Harry, it should have been unendurable to loose Ginny. He was certain he was falling in love with the youngest Weasley - at least, as much as he knew about love, anyway - but as much as he was loathed to admit it he had become all too familiar with loss and pain.

Still yet, the loss of his parents had been terrible. The loss of his Godfather Sirius Black was devastating. The loss of Albus Dumbledore had been debilitating…but the loss of both Ginny and his only true friend besides Hermione was the complete and utter shattering of his heart.

But it had been even harder for Hermione. Even though she had fought and suffered right beside him she had been spared the pain and anguish of personal tragedy. She had wisely protected her own. It hurt her to lose those Harry had loved but it had not been the same…not as personal or close to the heart as it had been for Harry - At least, not until Ron. Loosing Ron had almost crushed her.

Her spirit had been mutilated into something almost unrecognizable and she was not the same for it. Harry could see it in her eyes just as she had seen the darkness in his.

The scars and emptiness left in the aftermath made it difficult for Harry to feel anything and if it was not for the need to care for Hermione as she bled from her own wounds he would have gone utterly insane with grief.

It was shortly after that a young woman, nothing more than a girl at the time, had come and helped put the pieces of his heart back together with enough courage and strength to give Harry what he so desperately needed - Hope.

---@>---

After Hermione had managed to find some semblance of balance after that dark and debilitating first week after the demise of the Dark Lord, she was also approached by her mentor, Headmistress McGonagall.

It had been a plan put in place months before the final confrontation behind the scenes and completely unknown to the brilliant Gryffindor student then.

McGonagall had met with an old friend of hers, a Mrs. Wisteria Abercrombie, then Director for the Muggle Liaison's Office under the Department of Muggle Affairs. It was a division of the Ministry hastily thrown together by Kingsley Shacklebolt to deal with the fallout from the damage done to the Muggle world by Voldemort's lot.

McGonagall thought it a perfect place for her young protégé to begin a career that she felt would eventually lead to Hermione becoming highly placed within the Ministry in a very short time…and of course, she had been correct.

Hermione loved her job and got on with Mrs. Abercrombie and her staff from the very first meeting. Wisteria thought the young Muggle-born witch extremely intelligent, thoroughly engaging, clever, resourceful and, most importantly, well-liked by not only the Muggle Prime Minister's staff but the Prime Minster himself.

After their initial meeting, the Prime Minister began requesting Ms. Granger be included in their affaires and began working with her almost exclusively as Liaison.

Wisteria was thrilled, not only because of Hermione's progress with Wizard-Muggle relations but also because the often over-worked Mrs. Abercrombie was almost 70 years old and had every intention of retiring as soon as her young and quite capable assistant was ready to take over.

It didn't take long. In less than two years Hermione had found herself moving from an internship to taking over the Muggle Liaison's Office as Assistant Director. Wisteria agreed to stay on until most all reparations were complete and the planned Muggle-Wizard World Conference was pulled from the planning stages and made a reality.

It proved to be a daunting task to co-ordinate magical world Ministers as well as Muggle world leaders to meet at a super-secret location to hold meetings and talks to discuss ways of improving security and preventing something like what happened in London from ever occurring again.

Hermione proved she was well up to the challenge. She handled the details of the pending Conference as if she were born into her roll.

Her first task was securing a location that would be not only completely secret but secure as well. With the help of the Prime Minister's staff she found an old underground military facility used during World War Two as a secure location for the then Prime Minister as well as the Muggle British Royalty during the Luftwaffe bombing raids.

It was perfect so she set the Department of Mysteries to work to create whatever changes and improvement that would be necessary to accommodate a large number of V.I.P's as well as staff and security. The Unspeakable did a marvelous job of making the location secure and ready.

She had also met with the heads of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to provide the necessary security for the Conference as well. Plans were quickly drawn up and an unprecedented co-ordinated effort between Muggle and Wizard law enforcement personnel was set in place. In a joint effort to work with an innumerable number of transportation and accommodation requests they had put it all together with all the precision of a well-oiled machine.

Her staff liked and respected her even though many were quite a bit older. There were some who questioned her competence in the beginning but after she dug in and started making things happen they all fell in step with her very quickly. Most agreed she had accepted a daunting task that would have tried the patience of a martyred Saint and agreed very quickly they would not have wanted the job for all the galleons in Gringotts.

But, in less than four months Hermione Jean Granger, just 20 years old, spear-headed one of the most unprecedented, complicated, historical and important Conferences of all time…and it went off without a hitch!

Everyone from the Wizard press to the Minister of Magic himself declared the Muggle-Wizard World Conference (or the M.W.W.C. as it would come to be known) a complete success and the information and knowledge gained at the Conference an absolutely invaluable resource to be implemented as sweeping changes to Wizard law enforcement and security. There was even ratification to the Statute of Secrecy to require such a meeting take place on an annual basis as a result of its success…and everyone tagged Hermione Granger as the one who had made it all possible.

The young woman who had been pegged as one of the most important people who had helped dispatch the vilest and most evil wizard in modern history was now vaulted into the stratosphere of the Wizard public eye. Everyone wanted a piece of the Amazing Ms. Granger - But even after all her success and notoriety she still bore her almost debilitating burden of emptiness, pain and loss...and she did it in complete secret to all but her own mother.

She avoided most all public appearances and only did interviews on rare occasions. One of the few was with her friend Luna Lovegood to whom she granted an exclusive for the Quibbler. It was the second-largest selling issue in the magazine's history. The first was Harry Potter's own exclusive interview right after he joined the ranks of the Aurors and it has remained the only one he's ever done. A rumor had floated around for a time Rita Skeeter offered him a million galleons for an exclusive. He did Luna's for free!

---@>---

Neville and his bride-to-be chose the perfect location for their wedding. They decided to hold an outdoor ceremony at the edge of the Hogwarts Lake. The decorations were in the same theme, style and colors as their wedding announcement.

The reception was to be held in the Herbology greenhouse. It had been converted into what looked like a quaint French sidewalk café with trellises of grape vines and ivy over wrought iron tables and chairs. Colorful festoon lighting was draped around the periphery while thousands of twinkling lights were interwoven with the vines overhead.

It was all breathtakingly beautiful…

It was the first thought that came to Hermione as she made her way into the reception area. Much to her surprise a smiling Auror took her invitation and waved his wand over it. They both watched as the Hogwarts coat-of-arms appeared in a space at the bottom of the card. The Auror smiled at her warmly.

“Just a bit of security Ma'am,” the Auror bowed slightly, “sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Oh believe me,” Hermione smirked, “I understand completely.”

The Auror bowed again, a bit more reverently this time.

“I'm sure you do Ms. Granger. Enjoy the ceremony.”

“Thank you…” Hermione was about to enquire if he knew Harry would attend when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“My, you certainly do polish up nicely don't you Ms. Granger!” The voice quipped. She knew it at once.

“George!” Hermione turned and rushed forward to give him a warm embrace, “How wonderful to see you. How've you been?”

“Well that depends on who you ask,” He gave her a sneaky grin, “To most of the wizard world I am still as ear-itating as ever!”

Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

“Lovely dress, by the way!” George said eyeing her a little. If it were anyone else ogling her in that fashion she would have felt very uncomfortable but with George she knew he was harmless and just being his usual playful self.

Hermione had decided to pull out all the stops for the occasion. She had accompanied her mother to a Muggle day spa for the full treatment. Her hair was done in much the same way it had been during the Tri-Wizard Ball. The dress was a beautiful slender black backless, sleeveless evening gown that hugged the right places, slit up just above her knee and even had a small train in the back. It was one of the very few times she decided to opt for heels instead of her usual flats she wore to work.

Her mother told her she looked radiant and lovely. Her father joked that she was going to steal all the bride's thunder.

It wasn't long until she found herself surrounded by many of her old Hogwarts classmates and D.A. members. Dean, Seamus, Dennis Creevey, the Patil sisters, Lee Jordan, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and even Lavender Brown and Cho Chang showed up to greet her, Cho looking more beautiful than ever.

Lune was there wearing a bright pink chiffon gown that landed somewhere between ostentatious and utterly ridiculous. She still wore her ever-present butter beer cork necklace and her radish earrings.

“I'm actually working undercover for the Quibbler,” she had whispered in Hermione's ear, winking at her as if it were a secret just between them.

Hermione just couldn't find it in her heart to point out there was a Quick-Quotes quill sticking out over her left ear. She just smiled at her eccentric friend.

It was when the rest of the Weasleys arrived the attention finally shifted elsewhere. Fleur had arrived in her usual `I'm zee most beautiful one in zee room' flair but it wasn't her who was capturing the attention of most everyone at the reception this time.

Hermione barely recognized the young woman standing next to Molly Weasley until she looked a second time. To her amazement she finally realized it was Gabrielle, Fleur's younger sister. The girl was positively stunning in a gown that made Hermione's look almost prim and stodgy in comparison. The young woman was actually glowing with radiance from her rather skimpy shimmering silver dress.

Hermione did her best to shrug off the sensation of inferiority when Neville finally appeared.

He wrapped Hermione in a warm and loving embrace and they held one another for a moment.

“I'm so glad you're here Hermione,” he said, looking like he was on the verge of tears, “I must admit it wouldn't have been the same without you.”

“Stop Neville,” Hermione grimaced swatting him playfully, “You're going to make me cry. I wouldn't have missed it.”

“Well,” Neville said a bit sadly, “I know how difficult things have been for you.”

“Yes…well,” she had to swallow a huge lump in her throat before she went on, “enough of that. Today's your day Neville and I am so very happy for you!” She beamed up at him.

“Thank you,” Neville said then stopped dead, “Merlin's beard…What am I thinking!” He smacked himself in the forehead, “You haven't even met Destiny yet. I feel right foolish all of a sudden.” He then hooked Hermione's arm and began guiding her toward a small group of women huddled in a corner of the greenhouse by what looked to be the bar.

“Don't be silly,” Hermione said as they made their way toward the group, “I'm sure if your Gran approves…”

“Oh, Gran thinks she's a peach!” Neville beamed.

“Well then, that's all that matters.”

“Not really,” Neville looked at her seriously but then grinned, “I value you opinion as well Hermione. You're one of most intelligent and practical people I've ever known.”

It was Hermione's turn to blush bright red as she was ushered in among the small group of tittering young ladies. Neville introduced Hermione to a rather lovely looking girl with hair much the same color as her own. She was petite with rather sharp, elfin like features with large beautiful green eyes.

The girl was lovely and sweet and absolutely gushed over Hermione telling her what an honor it was to have her at the wedding. When she caught Neville's eye she winked and nodded at him slightly with her complete approval of the girl.

Hermione chatted with them politely for a while then she excused herself to have a word alone with Neville for a moment.

“Well?” He asked grinning.

“Oh Neville, the girl is perfect,” Hermione huffed, “but you already knew that.”

Neville nodded looking a bit sheepish.

Hermione wasn't sure if she really wanted to ask him the next question. She wasn't sure what answer she wanted to hear…

“Neville,” She finally decided to just be out with it. He probably already knew she would ask anyway, “Is Harry coming?” She mentally braced herself.

“Well,” Neville answered looking thoughtful, “We sent him an invitation although he already knew about the wedding from work,” he shrugged a shoulder, “He didn't say one way or the other. I'd like to think he'll be here…He's my Best Man after all but who's to say Hermione. I've got Dean and Seamus who'll fill in if he doesn't show.”

“He's Best Man?” she asked a bit surprised. She liked to think she still knew Harry Potter well enough to know he would not back out on Neville like that. The thought of it was a bit alarming. Part of her longed to see him but another part dreaded it.

Most all her angst stemmed from what happened that night at the Riddle house. It was because of what she had seen. The pure evil… It had terrified her at first and she recoiled from him. She pulled away from Harry not certain of what she had witnessed. She had tried to explain later but she knew it had hurt him…hurt him deeply.

Harry had lost everyone and the knowledge his only remaining true friend feared him had been more than he could bear. She knew it but even so Harry had stayed - He'd helped her and her repayment to him for his devotion and kindness was fear.

He had helped her deal with the grief and loss of Ron and in the end she had decided to return to her parents. It was that separation that drove the wedge that now existed between them. She should have stayed - She should have helped him in return…

But you can't go back Granger, she thought as she fingered the golden locket hanging around her neck, the damage is done. It may be too late for that now…

She suddenly felt depressed as she moved off toward the bar. She had never been much of a drinker but today she decided to have a shot of Fire Whiskey, both to celebrate the joining of her good friend to his lovely bride and to drown her guilt and sorrow.

It burned her throat like she swallowed one of her now famous Bluebell flames! She coughed and gagged as her eyes watered obscenely. The bartender looked at her with a mischievous grin as he wiped glasses with a towel.

“Alright there Miss,” he asked smirking, “How about another?” He started chuckling.

Hermione was about to hold up her hand letting him know one had been enough when she heard a very familiar but much deeper and more masculine voice behind her.

“Make it two if you please,” the voice said.

Hermione froze. She wasn't sure how she should react to his sudden presence. Her mind whirled for a moment when he spoke again.

“May I join you?” He asked.

Hermione turned and looked up into his smiling face.

Oh…My…Stars!

Harry Bloody Potter had become drop-dead gorgeous!

Much to her surprise he had done away with his glasses. He was taller and broader and looked almost fierce with the dark expression. The look in his intense gaze was a cross between concern and sorrow but he was smiling.

…But there was something else - something smoldering below the surface - she could feel it. Whatever it was radiated out of him like a furnace. It was almost…frightening!

She nodded, not quite certain she trusted herself enough to speak.

…And just like that the old fear flared anew and even though she tried so hard not to let it show she knew she had failed. She saw the brightness of his entrancing green eyes fade slightly as he gazed into hers but his warm smile, now tinged with a bit of sadness, never left his face as he slid smoothly onto the bar stool next to hers.

The bartender sat two more small glasses of Fire Whiskey on the bar. Harry glanced up at the man with a nod then turned his attention back to Hermione.

Her shame consumed her as she sat there trying desperately to dispel the odd mixture of feelings that plagued her. Part of her would have gladly spread herself across the bar and allowed this man to have his wicked way with her - The other part was terrified at the sheer power of him and felt like he could snap her neck with a twist of one of his wrists.

Merlin Granger! This-is-Harry! You've known him half your life. You have been closer to him than any other!

But even with her self-admonition she couldn't help but sense there was something different about him…something darker…and she just wanted to cry.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” he said in a soft voice that was so completely at odds with his intensity that it made Hermione blush profusely.

“Th…thank you Harry,” she replied in an almost breathless whisper glancing at him. She couldn't even seem to force herself to hold his gaze.

He shifted.

“I'm making you uncomfortable aren't I,” Harry said cradling his glass staring into the depths of the smoking amber liquid, “I'm sorry…maybe I should leave.” His voice was still soft and undemanding.

Before Hermione could react Harry tossed back his shot and slid off the bar stool - Before she could reach out to touch his arm to bid him stay he was gone.

Not again! Hermione Jean Granger…you blithering IDIOT! I swear I should write a book - 101 ways to tear your best friend's heart out and smash it to bits! UGH!

The dam, that had held years of sorrow and pain pooled in a reservoir deep inside her, crumbled into rubble in her heart. Her face fell into her hands as tears filled her palms overflowing and splashing on the rich shiny mahogany surface of the bar.

Her body was wracked with desperate heaving silent sobs as she sat there falling to pieces just as she did almost every other night in her bathroom. Even the bartender was reluctant to approach her.

After what seemed like a long time she finally forced herself to lean back gasping for air trying desperately to quell her tears. The bartender, now looking at her with face filled with compassion, handed her a clean bar towel. Hermione accepted it with as much grace as she could manage at the moment and attempted to pull herself back together. It seemed harder to do each time.

She then inquired about a ladies room and the bartender pointed her toward the far corner of the greenhouse.

“Are you going to be alright Miss?” He asked politely.

“Probably not,” Hermione answered honestly feeling positively miserable but pulled in a deep breath and sighed heavily, “but this is my good friend Neville's wedding day so I'll do my best to fake it.”

He nodded as Hermione made her way to the restroom. When she emerged she felt reasonably sure she had not wrecked herself too badly as she made her way toward where Neville was standing. As she approached she stopped when she noticed Harry with Gabrielle.

The girl was wrapped so tightly around him it was difficult to see where Harry began and the radiant half-Veela ended. It didn't help that the barely there gown she was wearing seemed even less substantial against Harry's formal cloak.

The look on her face suggested she was quite comfortable in such a position and Harry didn't seem at all uneasy about the situation. It was quite the contrary. Harry looked very relaxed and calm standing there with as much of the young Delacour pressed against him as humanly possible without being obscene.

They were in casual conversation with Bill, Fleur and all the other Weasleys. Even Fleur seemed unconcerned by their closeness.

Are Harry and Gabrielle together?

No, surely not! Gabrielle is only a child! She couldn't be more than…what, 16?

Hermione knew at once there had to be a reasonable explanation as she tried to propel herself forward to join them with as much dignity as she could. She felt compelled to try and talk to him again. It was important.

It was then Hermione watched as Harry placed a hand on the side of Gabrielle's face with his thumb resting on the apple of her cheek with what could only be described as loving tenderness. The look on the young girl's face as she gazed up at him was filled with pure unbridled love and utter adoration. He leaned down and kissed her on her forehead as she closed her eyes and pressed her perfect body even closer. He then released her but her hand lingered on his arm as he pulled away, Gabrielle turning back to join the conversation as if their closeness was the most natural thing in the world.

That simple but profound exchange had such an effect on Hermione she thought she could actually hear her heart shatter like glass inside her chest. She wasn't sure why seeing that hurt her so much but it was now almost impossible for her to remain…but she knew she must.

For Neville…

Those words kept echoing inside her head as she moved around the reception in a trance-like state. She tried desperately to pull herself out of the sudden debilitating stupor she seemed to have fallen. When she practically bowled Dean Thomas over she finally snapped out of what she could only describe as a walking nightmare. She apologized profusely and turned to go back the way she came when she smashed right into what felt like a wall of hard muscle.

She lost it then and turned to apparate but the person she crashed into held on tightly as they were both swept away.

Hermione had not given her destination a second thought when she jumped but whoever had latched on to her was at the mercy of her jumbled subconscious mind. When she opened her eyes and wiped away the tears that blurred her vision she realized where she had landed.

Oh no!

Part of her was hoping she would look up and find herself staring into the face of a stranger but she knew better. She knew this man better than any other…

“I'm s…so…sorry Harry,” Hermione stammered as she broke down again and practically collapsed boneless against him.

“I've got you Hermione,” he whispered taking a firm hold on her and sweeping her up in his steel hard arms, “It's going to be alright.”

Harry clutched a sobbing Hermione to his chest and made his way into his own home in Godric's Hollow. It was surprising the wards had let her through. He had strengthened them a few years back but maybe the magic was still smarter than he was. Even invisible and unplottable she had still managed to remember the way back after all this time even when she didn't even know she was doing it. That had to mean something.

He laid her gently down on the overstuffed sofa in the sitting room and moved to go start water for tea when she practically jumped off the couch grabbing his arm.

“Please don't leave me!” she practically shouted then crumpled again in a renewed fit of weeping. She had no idea why she was acting like this. It was so unlike her and so ridiculous…(You're the cast-iron bitch Granger!)…but she couldn't seem to reign her emotions in long enough to get control. It was like…like…

…Like you never left Godric's Hollow at all!

The pain and haunting memories flooded in like water pouring over the bow of a sinking ship. If she didn't do something she would drown…

But he was there, just like before, Harry was there enfolding her in a tight embrace as the pieces came flying off her like she had exploded. Her desperately gasping sobs shaking them both.

“I…I…” she stammered helplessly.

“Shhhh,” Harry whispered in her reddening ear, “Just let it go Hermione...Let it out. Don't hold it back any longer. This is me…this is Harry. I'm right here and I'll catch you. I won't let you fall!”

…and that's exactly what she did.

Years of suppressed emptiness and pain oozed out of every pore of her body. The fear of a lifetime of loneliness and rejection evaporated off her forehead like steam. The wavering phantasmal visage of Ron Weasley formed inside her beleaguered mind. He smiled and she could hear his voice.

“You know I'll always love you Hermione but it's time…you know this! And here I thought you were the clever one. Be happy! Colin Creevey is starting to call you a crybaby! I'll have to smack him for you. No more stupid blubbering. It's embarrassing - Really!”

“I'll always love you too…” she whispered in a barely intelligible voice, “Goodbye Ronald. I have to let you go. I can't do this to myself any more. Please understand.”

She clung to Harry for dear life as her emotions battered her like a hurricane but after what seemed like an eternity she had finally exorcised as many demons as she had strength for. She felt something closing inside her like a door that led to that part of her past filled with pain and death and sorrow. It left a hollow clanging sound echoing inside the depths of her conscious mind.

Hermione Jean Granger cried herself out. The sharp edges of her pain were finally dulled to smooth rounded surfaces. She took a deep gasping breath. It was like coming to the surface of the water after being submerged and drowning for years.

She finally released her death grip on him and leaned back on the sofa. She was still clutching the bar towel in her hand.

“I'm sorry Harry,” she whispered.

“You know, you keep saying that but I'm not sure what you're supposed to be sorry for,” he replied trying to keep his tone light and playful.

“For everything I suppose,” Hermione looked up into his eyes now, they were searching and Harry knew what for, “For being weak, for not being there for you the way you were for me, for turning into a stranger, Merlin,” she threw a hand up, “for this evening for dragging you away from our good friend's wedding…” she could go on and on but Harry stopped her by taking her hand in his.

“Just for the record,” he said smirking slightly, “you didn't drag me anywhere. I followed uninvited and as for the rest of that stuff…”

Harry shifted leaning slightly closer. He was on his knee next to the couch she was laying on. This time she did not pull away from him.

“There's a reason it's called the past Hermione. We try to leave it behind us and do our best to move forward. It isn't easy. I think it's something we have to learn…like casting a competent spell.”

He paused for a moment lost in reflection, then smiled so sadly it almost caused her to start weeping again but she swallowed hard and listened to the familiar soft cadence of his voice.

“I've always thought magic was the answer to everything but it's funny to think there are some things it can't fix. It works ok for things like my glasses, a snapped wand or dispatching a barmy dark wizard but it's useless for things like a broken heart or a shattered life. The only thing that works for those is time…”

Hermione let his words sink in all the way to her bones. It was like a healing salve to a bleeding wound. She found herself smirking even through the misery that plagued her.

“The famous Hermione Granger gets taught a lesson in rational common sense,” she whispered trying her best to smile.

“Stop the presses, yes?” Harry chuckled softly.

Hermione reached out without hesitation or tentativeness and threaded her fingers in his wild untamable hair. The contact was almost electric. She could feel something almost like heat radiating off him. It was warm and comforting but contained an edge of…something she couldn't identify, a strength or some unknown power inside him. It was almost frightening but she would not let her fear betray her again. Not now, not ever again.

To Harry the feeling of Hermione's soft touch was like the sensation of coming home after years of being alone and lost, the memory of her scent, the beauty and familiarity of her face. He closed his eyes and sighed. Having her so close after all those years apart was like finding a part of him he had misplaced but as he knelt there basking in the gentleness of her loving touch the reality of his life lurked just under the surface of his consciousness.

She'll discover the truth eventually and then what…

I'll lose her forever…

He opened his eyes and with deliberate care he took her hand, kissed her palm (which made her shudder) and rose to his feet.

“There are things you and I should talk about Hermione,” Harry said softly, “and we will but I made a commitment to someone very important to me and it would be wrong and selfish to let him down. I hope you understand. I would like nothing more…”

Hermione got up and placed a finger gently on his lips quelling his explanation with a watery smile.

“I understand,” she said, “Can't have a wedding without the Best Man now can we?”

Harry nodded looking at his hands.

The question came out of her like she had vomited the words and she could not believe she could be so shallow and petty after the tender kindness he had just shown her. It made her sick with the vile taste it left in her mouth.

“Are you in love with her Harry?”

If a person could use an unforgivable curse on themselves she would have struck herself dead that very moment.

Harry looked into Hermione's face with a rather surprised expression mingled with confusion.

“Who?” He asked.

Hermione shook her head closing her eyes tightly.

“No Harry,” she chastised herself, “Don't even answer that. I am such an empty arrogant bitch!” She covered her face with her hands.

Suddenly it dawned on him what she was asking.

She must have seen Gabrielle leaning against me at the reception.

He thought maybe he should try to explain but then another thought occurred to him…

Hermione Jean Granger - Jealous! After all this time could she…No, surely not! She could have any bloke in the world she wanted! She's famous and important.

Then reality slapped him in the temple.

You're a freak Harry…a monster! Well, half a monster but if she knew…

Maybe it was better if he let her believe he and Gabrielle were together but that might look a bit wonkey her only being 17 and all. He wasn't sure he wanted `Cradle Robber' added to his lists of accomplishments. Harry reached out and pulled her hands down from her embarrassed face.

“Were just friends Hermione, nothing more,” he said gently, “She's just turned seventeen. I don't think her mother or Fleur or Molly for that matter would approve nor would they be very happy with me and you're not an empty arrogant anything.”

“I'm so sorry Harry,” Hermione almost crumbled again, “it was just the way…”

“Can. You. Say. Half-Veela,” he smirked.

Hermione stiffened, then leaned her head against his shoulder feeling completely stupid. She moaned.

“I promise I'll explain what happened after you left if you're even interested but I really think we should get back to Hogwarts.”

She nodded and followed him out of the cottage and just beyond the wards they disappeared with a pop.

The wedding was a wonderful lovely affair. Hermione found herself sitting with the Weasley family. It was a bit uncomfortable watching how Harry and Gabrielle interacted with one-another but she reminded herself what Harry had told her.

Just before the ceremony ended Hermione found herself standing face to face with the ethereal looking young woman.

“Eet ees wonderful to zee you again `ermione, after all zis time!”

Gabrielle leaned forward and pulled Hermione into a genuinely warm and friendly embrace. Hermione felt herself physically relax at the girl's warm gesture. She couldn't help it.

“Thank you Gabrielle,” Hermione replied, “You've, erm…changed!”

“Oui,” Gabrielle quipped, “Eet is zee way of such things I suppose. We all find ourselves getting older. I only pray my wisdom and intelligence keeps up with zee rest of me yes?”

Her warm smile was like a beaming ray of sunlight. This lovely young physically perfect creature was as beautiful on the inside as she was to look upon. Hermione wanted to hate her but simply couldn't. She nodded. What Gabrielle said next almost knocked her on her backside.

“You must find `appiness `ermione,” Gabrielle whispered, “and I think true `appiness begins with being honest with yourself,” the little Veela paused looking Hermione right in her surprised brown eyes with her piercing light grey ones, “You love `eem. You should tell `eem so. Eet is not every day we get a second chance to possess true love. Don't waste eet.”

With that Gabrielle turned and moved to join her mother and father. She looked back over her slender shoulder at a stunned Hermione Granger - Cleverest Witch of her Age - gaping at the little vixen like a stunned Troll.

“I envy you `ermione. I, too, would like nossing more zen to possess `ees heart but `arry Potter belongs to only one mon cheri. Go find your `appiness!”

As Hermione stood there watching the petite Delacour move off with her parents she felt a presence appear over her right shoulder. She glanced back and tried to put on her best smile.

She had been on such an emotional roller coaster since she arrived at Hogwarts she felt drained and stretched to the point of snapping. There was something he wasn't telling. There were secrets he wanted to keep. Part of her wanted him to let her in and part of her was almost afraid to find out what those secrets were. It was an odd place for her to be.

She had tried to date a few times. It was a complete and utter dismal failure. She tried reconnecting with Viktor Crum even going so far as visiting him during one of his Quidditch matches but whatever had been between them then had changed into barely veiled disinterest on his part and the inability or lack of desire to commit on hers.

One thing was certain. She loved Harry Potter. She was aware of that now more than she had ever been in her life. She would have been happy being Mrs. Hermione Granger-Weasley but she was slowly learning to live without Ron even if it still hurt to do so, however, the last three years without Harry had been like stepping off the edge of the abyss into the dark void of loneliness. She thought she had gotten past the worst of it after she left Godric's Hollow but she now knew she had just covered it up with work and a generous portion of denial.

She had failed him then - she knew that. She had left him to struggle with his own demons when he had helped her through the worst of it. It hurt to remember and it didn't help to know he was still willing to forgive and forget. She would not fail him again…

“Have you any plans for later Harry,” she asked with a hopeful look.

“No, not really,” he shook his head, “I've got a rare weekend off actually,” he said smiling his sad smile, “Molly invited me to dinner at the Burrow. I thought I might go there for a bit. It's been a while since I've visited.”

“Oh…well,” Hermione replied trying desperately to keep the disappointment from showing, “I'm sure they'd love to have you Harry. I'm sure Molly and Arthur miss you very much. You're almost part of the family after all.”

“As are you Ms. Granger,” Harry added, “Why don't you come with me. I know they would love it.”

“I don't…” but she stopped. Gazing up into his eyes she realized she was doing it again - pulling away from him. It had become almost habitual. She straightened up and looked him square in the eyes, “You know, I think that's a wonderful idea Mr. Potter but I'm not sure I want to just invite myself.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he scooped her arm in his.

“Don't be ridiculous Hermione,” he quipped, “You know, for someone so clever you can be pretty daft sometimes…the notion you'd not be welcome at the Weasleys…the very idea!”

“Think we can pop round to my place so I can change before we go?” She asked, “You've never seen my place in London have you?”

“I think that can be arranged,” Harry softly.

The idea of being alone with Hermione in her place made him a bit nervous but this reconnection with her was important even though it was dangerous for both of them. Harry felt he still had plenty to sort out before he would feel prepared enough to entertain the possibility of letting her get close again. He knew he was playing with fire but what had happened today showed him she was still not healed and needed him still.

Once they arrived at her flat in London Hermione gave him the fifty cent tour. The place was large, ultra-modern but comfortable and lived-in.

“Hermione you have impeccable taste you know that?” He said grinning, taking a bar stool, “This place practically screams Hermione Granger.”

She beamed. She couldn't help it.

“Thank you Harry. That's very kind of you. Please make yourself at home. I'm just going to change into something a little less formal to go to the Weasley's in. I'll only be a moment.”

Thirty minutes later she emerged from her bedroom wearing a rather tight pair of black jeans, a white pull over cashmere sweater with a bit of a plunging turtle-type collar, her white trainers and a black leather bomber jacket. She had fluffed her long hair out from her stylish pinned up curls and now felt a bit unfettered and comfortable.

Harry had removed his formal cloak and underneath was wearing a black Muggle suit coat with a collarless crisp white shirt and a thin black pencil tie. His trousers matched his jacket and his wing tips were polished to a mirror finish. His permanently hap-hazard locks did nothing to detract from his `Oh-my-goodness-would-you-look-at-that-glorious-hunk-of-manflesh' appearance. It was almost impossible to look at him without grinning like a confunded idiot.

What have you done with Harry?

The disembodied voice echoed in her head as she moved toward the bar.

“Ready,” she managed to choke out like a frog. She had to clear her throat.

He nodded and they moved to the door. When they crossed the threshold he turned to her and gazed into her eyes. The feelings and sensations it caused in her were things she had not felt in years and some she had never felt before that moment. Harry gently took her hand in his and smiled. She couldn't help but smile right back.

For the first time in three years she allowed someone else to take the lead. She had little problem letting Harry apparate them to the Weasley's. It wasn't usually like that for Hermione. Control was her thing…not self-control mind you but control of others.

When you ran an entire Ministry department and most of your underlings were (older)lings you had to earn their respect and Hermione had done so by not being a pushover or easy to persuade or manipulate. She did it by being tough, direct and honest but she could be very demanding. She expected the best from her staff and they knew it but as a result of her skills, abilities and knowledge they had come to respect her.

Now, standing next to this man she felt she barely knew any more but had once known better than any other she allowed herself to be led and he did so without hesitation. Even though, she could feel his great respect for her in the kindness of his manner and the tone of his voice. He knew what she had accomplished over the past three years. It was no secret. The whole of Great Briton knew this woman or, at least, those who were the movers and shakers of the day.

The entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement had a deep abiding respect for her for her willingness to accept advice and allow those who were experienced in such things to propose plans for security for the M.W.W.C. and even though she had the final word on implementation she had stepped aside relying on them to do their jobs. It was one of the reasons things had ran like clockwork.

Hermione was tough, practical, serious, dedicated, steadfast, determined and, at times, even a bit voracious in her professional life but standing next to this man she was with…she was just Hermione Granger - a clever little witch.

The Weasley's, as Harry had accurately predicted, were thrilled to see her. Molly fell on her almost at once crying her eyes out lamenting the fact she had been such a stranger but it was Harry who came to her rescue. He simply reminded Molly that Hermione had a very important job in the ministry now and was in high demand.

If Hermione Granger could have ever swooned in her life it would have been right then. Harry Potter had become the type of man you simply could not ignore. He was very quiet most of the time but when he spoke…everyone listened. He was commanding just standing there watching you. His utter masculine magnetism was a force within itself.

As they all sat at the kitchen table talking and laughing and reminiscing about the past Hermione noticed that Harry never sat at the table with the rest of them. He stood leaning against the counter with arms folded and much to Hermione's surprise Bill did the very same thing. They were always part of the conversation and both seemed quite at ease that way but she found it a bit odd.

After a while Harry and Bill slipped silently from the kitchen and went off outside almost unnoticed by the rest of them. The only reason Hermione realized he was no longer standing in the kitchen was because she could barely take her eyes off him all night and the fact that she was so very aware of his presence. It was something that had been a huge void in her life until this night.

After Hermione glanced at a clock she realized what the time was and it was getting rather late. A moment later, as if on cue Bill and Harry slipped back into the kitchen as if nothing were amiss. Bill finally settled into a chair next to Fleur as Hermione got to her feet telling everyone she had an early morning.

After much protests and pleas to stay she finally said her goodbyes and holding Harry's hand again he led her back to her flat. As they walked up the flight of stairs to her second story front door Harry stopped shoving his hands in his pockets.

“That wasn't so bad was it?” He asked in his soft, easy-going voice.

“No Harry,” Hermione swallowed hard, “Not so bad at all. Thank you.”

His brows pinched together.

“For what?”

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes but as she was about to reply what Gabrielle had said to her at the wedding echoed in her mind.

“For what,” she replied incredulously, “For everything! For being there for me today, back then…for this beautiful locket and necklace you gave me,” She pulled it out and held it, “It never leaves me you know. It hasn't left me since you put it around my neck yourself three years ago. I remember what you told me. Keep it safe and close to your heart and I do Harry.”

Her words were beginning to tumble nervously out of her mouth in a dizzying rush. It was silly. This was not her.

“I would love…erm, I mean my folks would love to see you again Harry. My mother misses you terribly and when I tell her about today she'll insist on having you to dinner so please say you'll come. She'll throttle me if I tell her I've seen you and didn't bring you round to visit and well, I tell my mum everything see so…Merlin…I'll shut up now.”

She fell silent but the look on Harry's face let her know it didn't bother him in the slightest. He was content to let her ramble on like a nutter all night if she was so inclined.

“Well,” Harry said quietly, “We can't have your mum throttling you now can we. Tell me when and I'll be there.”

“I…I'll send you an owl or maybe an inter-office memo plane if that's alright?”

He nodded, “That's fine.”

“You should come to the office Harry,” her face brightened suddenly, “You've never seen my office either or where I work…” she realized she was beginning to ramble again and fell quiet, “if…you want…that is.”

Harry knew what Hermione was trying to do. She wanted him around again. She wanted him to be a part of her life but things had changed. Their lives had changed - Hers…for the better. His…

You cannot let this happen Harry. You know what the end result will be. If she sees the real you she will go off screaming into madness.

---@>---

The days that followed found Hermione buried up to her armpits with work. The Minister had requested a detailed transcript of the minutes from the M.W.W.C. and she had almost the entire staff working on putting the report together.

The Muggle Prime Minister had respectfully requested her presence at a dinner he was having for his 55'th birthday celebration and had hinted, none to subtly that his youngest twenty-something son would be in attendance and really wanted to meet her.

She had heard nothing from Harry after his reply to her inter-office note about dinner with her parents. She had run into Neville once inquiring where he might be but Neville seemed a bit reluctant to answer. He simply told her the Minister had him on some rather hush-hush assignments.

It was on the day before the birthday bash she was sitting in her office organizing sections of the report her secretary Abigail stuck her head in the door looking like she had been knocked on the head with something.

“Erm…Ms. Granger,” Abigail mumbled a bit bewilderedly, “There's…egh…someone here to see you.”

“Ohhh Kaaay,” Hermione said looking oddly at her young assistant, “Perhaps you should show them in, yes?”

“Err…right!” Abigail ducked back out mumbling something Hermione couldn't quite make out. When her assistant opened the door Harry came in passing the young secretary who was looking up at Harry with such an expression of utter longing and desire it made Hermione chuckle.

It will take the girl days to get all the knots out of her dainties!

She rose from behind her desk and reaching out took Harry into a warm and friendly embrace. No fear…no hesitation…no more dark memories. Even though he still radiated his intimidating power she refused to let it affect her any longer. Whatever it was…whatever the secret was he felt he needed to keep she would accept it without question.

“Hello stranger,” she whispered softly in his ear as his arms encircled her slender body like taught cords of steel cable. She couldn't help but place a soft kiss on the side of his warm neck, “I've missed you.”

Harry's hands gripped her body tightly as he held Hermione. She felt almost fragile in his arms. The warmth and love that radiated from her was so profound and powerful it made him close his eyes and sigh.

“I've missed you too Hermione,” he whispered, “So very much.”

The things she felt there in his embrace could not be quantified or categorized. No-one could ever understand what they had been through and survived.

As they stood there holding one another saying nothing it was as if time was stripped away and all that remained was the raw truth…the unvarnished reality that had brought them both to where they were at that very moment…

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7

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The Last Turner of Time

I don't own the Characters but the story's mine.

Chapter Two

Three years before…

HE RAN!

Harry couldn't help but stand there gaping at the spot Voldemort had been standing just seconds before in the Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

As the war raged all around them Harry had finally got his hated rival where he wanted him - in a one-on-one duel to the death.

Voldemort was convinced now that he possessed the Death Stick he was invincible but Harry knew better. He knew he could beat Voldemort because of the knowledge that cost Albus Dumbledore his life and he wasn't going to back down. Not this time - not ever! Voldemort would die this night!

But it was when Harry had asked the Dark Lord to show a little remorse he must have realized - Voldemort finally came to the conclusion this slip of a half-Muggle boy was not afraid of him and it unnerved him enough to reconsider what they were about to do.

The boy was waiting for him to make a move - but the Dark Lord would not be baited this night or any other.

With a scream of rage Voldemort twirled his wand over his head. Harry answered with a hasty Expelliarmus but his hex sliced through nothing but smoke…Voldemort had vanished, even through the anti-apparition wards of the ancient school Voldemort had managed to disappear.

He ran - leaving behind all those who chose to follow him - he left them to their fates to save his own reptilian-like skin.

But Voldemort had left behind a secret - one he had not considered. With the death of his beloved snake Nagini the Dark Lord was no longer anchored to this life by the abominations he had created years before. He was now mortal just like everyone else.

With the one-eighth portion of his soul that remained he was weak and vulnerable. As a result of his descent into the madness of the dark magic that gripped his mind his power had been diminished. He was now nothing more than a hollow shell of his former self.

But a madman knows no limitations and his bloated self-importance propped up his damaged ego enough to ignore the warning signs he felt within himself. He - the greatest wizard of all time - would not subject himself to the ridicule of those beneath him.

Lucius had failed him time and again - Peter had failed him - Severus Snape was a necessary sacrifice - even his most trusted had failed in keeping one of his most cherished possessions safe.

They would die for their failure at the hands of his enemies - It was a fitting end for them.

But it would not be the end - Voldemort had not been the only one who ran.

Harry stood there only a moment more as he watched Molly Weasley battle Bellatrix Lestrange until she turned tail to follow her despicable Master. Many other high level Death Eaters did the same.

It was Hermione and Ron who pulled him from the fray. They needed to regroup and try to figure out where Voldemort had gone. Hermione insisted they should wait until things were under better control.

The Ministry was under siege but the Order was holding its own along with the Aurors. It didn't take long for the right side to get the upper hand there and at Hogwarts.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched Kreacher, along with three hundred screaming House Elves take down Death Eater after Death Eater. They even went after the Werewolves without a hint of fear with Kreacher screaming “Fight…fight…fight” the whole way.

Before sunrise it was over and the losses tallied.

Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Fred Weasley, Colin Creevey…and many other nameless Aurors and members of the Order were gone. Firenze was hurt, Hagrid was missing, scuttled off by a horde of Aragog's kin to parts unknown. Grawp was gone too.

After the tide of the war had turned and those who chose to stand and fight for the coward Voldemort were all but decimated the Trio withdrew.

The weeks that followed found Hermione checking on her parents in Australia, Ron morning the loss of his brother Fred and a seemingly endless line of funerals for those who had made the ultimate sacrifice.

Harry moved from #12 because of Bellatrix and Narcissa's connection to the place. He was advised by those who were wiser and more experienced in such things.

He moved to Godric's Hollow purchasing a cottage that once belonged to a retired History of Magic Professor who had taught before Professor Binn's time.

He loved the place. It was quaint, peaceful and quiet. It had plenty of room to spare and something he discovered that caused one Hermione Granger to almost swoon.

It had a magical library…

Harry remembered the day he and Ginny had discovered the nature of the little library and how it all worked but it was what happened between Harry and Hermione one evening in the little space that would cause both of them to see one-another as never before.

It was a small room, not much more than a broom cupboard, tucked into the back left corner of the house just behind Harry's bedroom. The walls were covered in shelves of books from floor to ceiling. The only spaces not covered by books were a small window set in the back wall, a small stone fireplace in the far right corner and the door.

In the center of the room was a small high table with a few stools around it. Above was a rather ornate wrought-iron chandelier with ever-lasting candles in it.

When Harry first bought the place the seller, who was the Great-Great Granddaughter of the original owner, told him a little about the library but she admitted she didn't know exactly how it worked.

After some investigation along with some clever trial and error they finally discovered all the little room's secrets.

It wasn't long until Ron and Hermione were there. They had come to see Harry's new place and felt safe in the knowledge very few knew about Harry's new home. No-one at the Ministry knew where the Trio was and it was exactly the way they wanted it.

The surviving Order members regrouped at the Burrow to decide how to move forward to find and finally destroy Lord Voldemort.

The wizard world now saw the supposed Dark Lord's true colors. He had a big yellow stripe running right up the middle of his spindly spine…as the Quibbler had reported in one of their issues. Luna had created a picture of the Dark Lord's head on a skunk's body and tail. It was very funny and the issue sold like butterbeer.

As soon as Hermione had walked in the door she was assaulted by a mass of slender arms and flowing red locks. A beaming Ginny towed her around the house giving her a tour. When she showed Hermione Harry's bedroom the youngest Weasley blushed to her roots.

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at her friend. Ron, on the other hand watched Harry with a significant expression, arms tightly folded saying very little.

When they finally made their way to the small door in the back left corner Ginny grinned like a loon.

“This,” she gestured to the door with a hand, “is the library!” With a giggle Ginny pushed the door open.

Hermione was instantly hit with the unmistakable smell of old books. The aroma of ancient parchment, leather bindings and ink assaulted her senses as her eyes went wide as saucers.

“Oh for Merlin's sake Harry,” Ron complained loudly, finally breaking his silence, “Now I'll never get her out of here!”

Hermione turned and glared at him for a moment. Ron then turned on Ginny as if deciding he wasn't going to keep his thoughts to himself any longer.

“And what are you doing here…alone with Harry. How long have you been here? Does mum know where you are?”

Ginny suddenly looked as if she was about to spontaneously combust. Harry was about to put his two Knut's worth in but Ginny stopped him with a growled retort.

“No Harry!” Ginny said through gritted teeth, “I don't have to explain myself to Ron or anyone!”

“Gryffindor's left buttock you don't,” Ron returned heatedly, “Mum will have garden gnomes…”

“Ron,” Hermione huffed, “It's none of our business…”

“The bloody hell it's not!” Ron answered getting angrier, “You wait, mum will blame me!”

“Oh shut it!” Hermione said, “Leave them alone. Harry and Ginny are happy. Harry,” she looked at him with a beaming smile, “I love your new home. It's warm and vary cozy. Now if you'll all excuse me,” she turned toward the little door to the small library with nose in the air, “Heaven awaits!”

Harry wanted to lite into Ron but Ginny still looked as if she could lift off at any moment blasting into orbit around the planet. She turned to Harry taking him a rather stiff embrace. He knew she was barely controlling her rage toward Ron. She placed a soft kiss on his lips and spoke with forced control.

“I think I need to get a few things straight with my gormless brother. Why don't you show Hermione how the library works love? I'll be along in a moment.”

The look she gave Ron suggested to Harry to argue would not only be futile…but quite possibly dangerous! He fled to the library as quickly as he could tossing his best mate a sympathetic glance as he passed. Ron was beginning to look a bit peaky.

When Harry had entered the room the door closed on its own behind him and he felt the unmistakable flare of a ward being placed.

`Silencing spell…no doubt. Oh bugger…this is gonna be bad! But…better him than me!'

Harry watched with a smile as Hermione made her way around the room. The expression on her face was that of peace and contentment. She let her fingers glide softly across the binding of what were unmistakably ancient tomes. She closed her eyes reveling in the atmosphere of the space.

“This is brilliant Harry,” she whispered as if speaking loudly would somehow break the spell.

“Hermione,” Harry chuckled, “You don't know the half of it!”

Her eyebrows rose when she glanced at him with a questioning look.

“This library,” Harry began looking around the room smiling, “is much more than it seems. While it might look like a simple collection of books, manuscripts and texts it's a bit more complex than that.”

He patted the top of the high table and slipped onto one of the stools.

“Join me and I'll show you.”

Hermione moved to the table and slipped onto her own stool laying her arms folded on the table.

“So what's the big mystery Harry? Do the books fly about the room knocking information into your head?”

“Erm…no,” Harry chuckled, “Think of a subject…any subject.”

“Ok,” Hermione replied looking thoughtful, “Now what?”

“No…erm, you've got to say it out loud.”

“Oh, alright, the subject I thought of was…”

Harry stopped her with a hand.

“No…no, let's try this again. Basically you say, `I need a book on…' then say the subject. Got it?”

“Oh,” Hermione said giving him a funny look, “well why didn't you say that in the first place?”

Harry just shrugged his shoulders. Hermione straightened up then looked at Harry with a rather devious grin.

“I need a book on the possible transmutation effects on the space/time continuum as applied to repeated continual apparition during an electric storm.” She couldn't help but chuckle.

“Is that even a real subject?” Harry asked stunned.

Hermione was about to respond when a few books began to float off the shelves around them and settle in a neat pile on the small table in front of her. The look on her face was priceless. She picked up one of the books and read the title.

“`Understanding the Time Turner and the Possible Effects on the Balance of Space and Time!' Why Harry that's…that's…”

“If you'll notice,” Harry gestured to the shelves, “There doesn't appear to be a single book missing does there?”

Hermione looked about her and it was as he said. All the shelves appeared full.

“It's something Ginny and I discovered one day when we were investigating all the secrets this place contained. When you request something it will give you all the books available which contain information on that particular subject or when you pull a book off the shelf…”

Harry moved to a lower shelf and pulled a random volume. Hermione watched in amazement as another book slid into the slot vacated by the book in Harry's hand from behind.

“But…but,” Hermione stammered. Harry couldn't help but laugh at her confunded appearance as he slipped the book back on the shelf. The book that took its place retreated into the shadows.

“The owner told me her Great-Great Grandfather was a serious academic. I suspect you and he would have got along famously. She said he spent a good portion of his life in pursuit of knowledge and after procuring permission of the Ministry connected this room to almost every major wizard and Muggle library, university, museum and public records facility around the world. If there's a book about it…you should be able to access it right from this room!”

Hermione sat there unable to move or blink or even breathe.

“Uhba…uhba…uhba,” she muttered stupidly.

“I tried asking for books on dark magic one night when I was here alone. I was almost crushed under a mountain of books as they flew off the shelves filling the little room to bursting. I learned fairly quickly you have to be a bit more specific on some subjects.”

“As much as I'm loath to admit it,” Hermione breathed looking completely bewildered, “I think Ron's right.”

“Speaking of Ron,” Harry gave her a significant look, “I hope Ginny isn't chewing him up too badly.”

“Well Harry, he brings it on himself most of the time. He needs to learn to mind his business.”

“Ever since she first arrived at Hogwarts Ron's kind of taken it upon himself to make Ginny his business. I think it got a bit worse after second year.”

“I suppose that's true Harry but Ginny isn't a little girl any more. She's tough, a lot tougher than me that's for certain.”

“I don't know if I'd go that far Hermione,” Harry grinned, “So…like the place?”

“Silly question that!” Hermione laughed, “This is like finding Valhalla, surrounded by Utopia sitting smack dab in the midst of Nirvana on the island of Paradise!”

“I'll take that as a yes,” Harry chuckled as he slipped from the stool. Uttering the word `return' the books on the table flew back to the shelves.

Hermione came to stand in front of Harry smiling.

“You know Harry, a small kitchen and a loo and I would never have to leave this room again,” she absent-mindedly pulled him into a tender embrace. She didn't even realize she had done it until she felt Harry's warm soft lips on the side of her forehead.

Something happened at that moment - something neither of them expected or understood until years later. A connection was made. It was something deep and profound. It shook them both to the very core of their existence. A power surged through both of them. It manifested itself with warmth and familiarity, love, strength and unity.

For a brief moment neither Harry nor Hermione were separate. They were one entity existing in the same space. They both felt the surge of power. It wasn't frightening or upsetting. It was actually quite calming and reassuring.

Hermione found herself pressing into Harry even tighter. It wasn't a conscious thing, it was more a reaction to the strange situation.

`What are you doing Granger? Harry has Ginny! You have Ron!'

But apparently whatever was happening she was powerless to stop it. It felt…right…perfect.

Harry found himself drifting on the emotional and physical response to Hermione's closeness. It was as familiar and reassuring as holding his wand. For the first time in his life he felt what he was certain was real love. True love - the kind you don't find - it was the kind that found you.

The realization of the power of this strange and wonderful connection slipped into both their consciences at once. They slipped apart almost as if they'd both been hexed. They stood staring at one another for a moment, neither one speaking when Harry felt the silencing ward go down and the door opened.

Ginny came in smiling, looking much calmer. She slipped her arm in Harry's and beamed at a still rather stunned Hermione.

“Well,” Ginny asked, “What do you think of the place?”

Hermione shook her head slightly to clear it and beamed back at her red-headed friend.

“Ginny,” Hermione looked around her in wonder, “This little room just might replace Hogwarts as my new favorite place on earth!”

Ginny laughed. Harry couldn't help but grin.

“Well, it's here whenever you need it,” he said.

“Erm…careful there Harry or you'll have yourself a roommate,” Ginny quipped.

Both Harry and Hermione blushed. Hermione wanted to break the sudden uncomfortable tenseness between her and Harry before Ginny caught on to the unusual connection that had happened between them.

“So, is he whole or should I fetch the broom and dust bin to clean up the carnage?”

“Oh he's whole. There might be a few chunks missing from his bum but he'll live.” Ginny said smirking.

“Right,” Hermione replied, “Well I better go put some healing salve on his horribly bruised ego. This is an amazing find Harry. I'm very proud of you and…” she paused looking at her hands for a moment, “I'm happy for you both.”

But somewhere in the back of Hermione's mind she realized for the first time - She didn't really mean it and could tell her words had fallen a bit flat. It shocked her and she mentally whacked herself with a Beater's bat for considering such a thing but as she made her way out of the little library she realized there was no help for it.

Ron was sitting on the sofa facing away from her when she came into the room. She made her way over to him when he spoke without looking up. He had the appearance of someone who had been properly scolded by an angry Professor McGonagall. She had to stifle a chuckle that rose in her throat all on its own.

“Come to have a go at me as well,” Ron asked miserably.

“No Ron,” Hermione sighed, “I think Ginny's done enough damage for one evening.”

Ron lurched to his feet so abruptly it made Hermione take a step back.

“Do you think I'm pushy, overbearing and thick as a Hippogriff's rump?” He asked loudly.

His question caught her completely off guard. She hesitated for a moment trying not to burst out laughing. Ron's eyes went wide.

“Bugger me, you do don't you?”

“Ronald,” she huffed, “I'll admit you have your moments,” she quipped sauntering up to him folding him in an embrace, “but you're my Hippogriff's rump!”

Ron looked down at her with a doubtful look for a moment then rolled his eyes pulling her in tighter.

Hermione realized that moment how different it felt being in Ron's arms as opposed to Harry's. It felt stiff, almost foreign in comparison. It bothered her greatly. She didn't want to feel different but she couldn't deny the truth of it.

Luckily for her Harry and Ginny had come out of the little library and they all moved into the kitchen. Ginny had planned a dinner for which she decided to cook for them all on her own.

When Ron opened his mouth to offer what he thought about the idea Hermione wisely thumped him in the ribs with an elbow.

It wasn't long and they were sitting down to a rather surprisingly excellent meal of baked salmon in a lemon and white wine marinate, red potatoes smothered in butter, herbs and garlic, grilled asparagus and delicious home-made rye cakes.

When they had finally come up for air Ron was the first to comment.

“Ginny that was fantastic! I didn't realize you'd been paying attention to mum's cooking skills all these years!”

“Well,” Ginny blushed, “One doesn't grow up with Molly Weasley without some of it rubbing off, yah, unless you're one of the men in our family, who are all content to simply consume said nosh at an alarming rate.”

They all laughed at her cheek. Even Ron seemed much less annoyed by their previous altercation. They had settled in the living room and began discussing the possible whereabouts of Voldemort when Molly's flaming visage burst forth from the fireplace.

“Oh, Ginny dear, so sorry to intrude but I was just wondering when you and Ronald might be home. Charley is in from Romania and I thought you'd like to visit. Bill and Fleur are here with the baby as well.”

Ginny rolled her eyes gritting her teeth.

“Tell me again why you gave mum permission to use the floo?” She whispered to Harry. Harry just smiled and shrugged.

“It's safer this way you know that,” Harry replied, “Last thing I want from your mum is a Howler. No thank you very much.”

“Well, I suppose I better go or she'll be popping in every ten minutes if I don't,” Ginny grumbled. She then turned to Ron, “You coming?”

Ron just tossed his sister a disinterested glance.

“You go on ahead. I'll be along in a bit.”

With a dark look she gathered Harry into a bone crushing embrace and kissed him quite senseless before turning toward the floo. She irritatingly grabbed a hand full of powder and tossed it in. The fire roared and turned its usual green color.

Just before she stepped in uttering `The Burrow' she looked at Harry sadly.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too Ginny,” Harry replied with a sad smile, “I'll see you soon. I promise.”

With a flash she was gone.

Harry couldn't help but stand there looking at the fireplace for a moment lost in reflection. He loved Ginny with all his heart. He loved her strength and toughness as well as her unflinching devotion to him. One moment she was fearlessly battling Death Eaters and the next moment she was making unimaginably intense love to him. He adored her and would die for her…

But as he realized those things he couldn't help but recall the strange…connection that happened with Hermione in the library. It was all a bit disconcerting.

He felt a hand fall gently on his shoulder snapping him out of his musings.

“She'll be back before you realize she's gone Harry.”

He looked up into Hermione's eyes. He could see something in them - something he thought shouldn't be there - confusion. He knew what it was because he was feeling it himself.

All he could do in response was nod.

Moments later had the Trio sitting in Harry's parlor discussing the possible whereabouts of one `He-Who-Bolted-Like-A-Frightened-Rabbit.'

“Do you think he could have gone back to the Malfoy place?” Ron asked.

“Seems likely enough,” Hermione interjected, “I think it might have been sort of a home base for the Death Eaters anyway.”

“I don't know,” Harry said lost in thought. He stood and began pacing the room, “I'm not sure if he would. I mean, after all, that's where the Snatchers brought us lot after they captured us. He would obviously know that so it would stand to reason he may think it would be the first place the Order and the Ministry would look yes?”

“Mmm, I suppose that's a logical assumption Harry,” Hermione added. She began nibbling her thumb lost in her own musings.

“But where then?” Ron asked a bit irritated, “Where would he go I wonder. Do you think he realizes all the Horcruxes are destroyed?”

“Yes Ron,” Harry said darkly, “I'm certain of it. After Neville killed Nagini he was enraged beyond belief. I saw into his mind when he went to the cave and to the old Gaunt home place but I'm not certain he realizes we destroyed the Diadem of Ravenclaw. I'm certain he knows we have it but he may still think it's in tact. I don't know.”

“Unless Draco told him,” Hermione said.

“I don't think that likely,” Harry responded, “I think the Malfoy's have gone into hiding.”

“They did if they know what's good for them at least,” Ron groused, “We should have let Malfoy roast along with Crabbe…Would have been a fitting end for the wanker!”

“Ron,” Hermione shot him a warning glare but Ron didn't appear to be apologetic in the least. She looked back up at Harry still pacing, “So where could he be then…Voldemort, I mean?”

“Hermione,” Ron jumped to his feet, “Don't say his name! For Merlin's sake you know what happened last time!” He moved quickly to the front window peering out through the blinds looking left and right.

“Oh come on Ronald,” Hermione huffed, “I'm almost certain that barmy spell's been broken and I'm not so sure his followers would be all that enthusiastic about doing his bidding anymore anyway.”

Ron still looked white as a sheet but Harry found himself in agreement with her assessment. Still yet…

“No sense taking chances though, yes?” Harry said giving Hermione a significant look. She just folded her arms thinking their fear silly.

In the next moment the sitting room exploded in a visceral light of a patronus as it streaked passed Ron's left shoulder to land in the midst of the room. Ginny's harried voice filled the space…

“The Burrow…under attack…dozens of them! NEED HELP!”

It was all the message had said. The patronus winked out as Ginny's terrified plea echoed off the walls.

All three of them stood frozen for a few heartbeats looking at one-another. It was as if time had come to a grinding halt and the earth stopped turning for just those few seconds.

“The B…Burrow,” Ron whispered. It was enough to snap them all out of their frozen terror.

Hermione's expression changed from utter shock to her usual dogged determination to take control.

“We need a plan…”

“PLAN!” Ron screamed, “WE NEED TO GO HERMIONE!”

Ron bolted toward the door. Harry watched this take place as if he were in a trance. He couldn't seem to get his arms and legs to work fast enough.

“NO…Wait Ronald…” Hermione screamed as she tumbled forward after him.

It was then Harry finally regained control of his faculties and bounded after Hermione, summoning his Invisibility Cloak as they made for the front door.

Out in the front yard just beyond the wards protecting Harry's home they heard the unmistakable sound of apparition as Ron took off for Ottery-St. Catchpole.

Harry could hear Hermione's desperate sobs just in front of him. She turned back to look at him, the look on her face a mask of raw fear.

“Go Hermione,” Harry pressed, “Into the trees just outside Mr. Weasley's shed! I'm right behind you!”

“Ron!” Hermione gasped.

“We'll find him Hermione…GO!”

They both turned and disappeared at the same time…

Harry landed hard but rolled to his feet in one smooth motion, wand out ready to fight. He felt Hermione appear just behind him.

The sounds of battle raged all around them as they cautiously moved to the corner of the shed. Bright flashes of red and green jets of light flashed in every direction as the cracks and pops of curses gained their marks.

“Where could he be,” Hermione asked barely controlling her panic.

“Knowing Ron he ran right into the thick of it!” Harry growled.

“Please Harry! We have to find him.”

“Let's go,” Harry said flipping his cloak over them both, “but keep your head down and eyes open. They don't know we're here so the element of surprise is on our side for now. Stun anything that moves,” he told her, “we'll sort out the details later.”

Hermione nodded and off they went. As they made their way around the corner of the house into the garden the bulk of the fighting was there. They saw Arthur battling furiously with three Death Eaters. When Harry approached he and Hermione took out two of the three leaving Arthur free to deal with the last.

Hermione insisted on coming out from under the cloak. Harry decided to do the same.

“Where's Ron,” Hermione asked a panting Arthur.

“I told him to go in the house,” Arthur gasped, “Protect the girls! Harry what are you doing here? You've put yourself in great peril by doing so!”

He had no time to respond as several nasty curses zipped passed them, one just missing Harry's right ear. They dodged sideways just as one whole side of the house blew off, splintered wood and glass flying everywhere.

Harry was up throwing curse after curse. He hit one tall Death Eater with a reducto and the bloke flew back into the garden. He could see tiny little garden gnomes swarm the prone man's form, their sharp little teeth tearing chunks of flesh from him as he screamed and thrashed.

As Harry tried to gain the house a Death Eater popped up from behind a smoking piece of furniture. It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

With a surge of hatred that caused a coppery taste in her mouth Hermione sent a curse flying at the vile witch. It just missed her and hit the chair she was hiding behind instead causing it to explode into a million flying splinters, the pieces peppering Bellatrix' face causing her to shriek with pain.

The older woman covered her face and apparated away in a blink.

Once inside Harry quickly donned his invisibility cloak again but was met with the same tall blond wizard who stood in the entrance hall at Hogwarts throwing random curses in every direction. He was doing the same thing this time and Harry had to dive behind the overturned kitchen table to keep from getting hit by his errant curses.

Outside Hermione heard more sounds of apparition as she began to see Auror tunics appear everywhere. The tide of the fight began turning quickly when it was as if the entire world exploded. The rumble of the blast shook the ground. When she looked up she saw the Dark Mark hovering directly above the Burrow.

“RON…HARRY!” Hermione screamed but she was knocked off her feet as another explosion filled her senses with bright light, heat and a thundering boom.

As she lay just outside the garden she watched in horror as the house erupted in flames. It started on the haphazard upper stories and quickly raced downward to devour the floors below. The smoke and fumes made it almost impossible to see anything.

She knew Harry had gone inside looking for Ron and Ginny but she had not seen him come out. She pulled herself to her feet and staggered toward the burning house. Curses still flew this way and that but the volume had dwindled drastically after the Ministry arrived.

She saw Kingsley Shacklebolt take out the big tall blond wizard almost slicing the bloke in two with a severing curse.

“Mr. Shacklebolt,” Hermione cried out. She was about to ask him if he had seen Harry or Ron when she spied two figures over his shoulder coming out of the smoke and destruction. Harry was supporting Ron with an arm slung over his shoulder.

She dashed past Kingsley exploding in tears of relief as she threw herself at her boys.

“Thank Merlin!” Hermione exclaimed but when she looked up into the battered and soot covered face of the boy she loved it was wrinkled with pain, tears streaking his cheeks.

“They took her,” Ron choked, “They took Ginny!”

Hermione's eyes moved to see the look on Harry's face terrified at what she might see but to her utter shock he looked quite calm but conviction and determination rolled off him like waves of powerful magic. He set Ron down on the scorched ground and stepped away from them. He was about to turn away when Hermione lurched forward.

“NO Harry,” she yelled in the bossiest voice she could manage, “You cannot go alone and besides we don't even know where they've taken her!”

What happened next was eerie. It was almost as if it was in response to Hermione's comment.

A strange silence fell over the entire area. Everyone stopped fighting and for some reason was compelled to look up. The Dark Mark shifted and a high piercing voice cut through everyone's mind like a white hot knife blade.

“I have taken something of great value to you Harry Potter…If you wish to ever see your precious blood traitor alive again you will come to the house of my disgusting Mudblood father and we shall finish what was begun at our beloved Hogwarts. I would tell you to come alone but I know your precious little friends will refuse to be left behind. By all means bring them with you - the more the merrier - bring anyone you wish to witness your utter destruction but keep in mind…the more you bring the more your little red-haired she-devil will suffer! You best hurry. The longer you terry the closer to death she will find herself.”

“Oh, Arthur!” Molly cried as Bill helped her and Fleur and the baby from the ruins of the house.

“GINNY,” Ron screamed and before anyone could move he apparated with a pop.

“NO,” Hermione screamed as soon as she realized she was holding nothing, “Harry!”

Without a word Harry moved forward and with one smooth motion slipped his arm under Hermione's and lifted her to her feet. When he turned them to apparate the look on his face was almost demonic as his eyes gazed into hers.

“Voldemort dies tonight!” He whispered. With a loud crack they were gone.

---@>---

When Harry and Hermione landed on the edge of the Riddle property they instantly covered themselves with the invisibility cloak. They began to move toward the house when Hermione spotted someone lying in the grass off to the left.

As they moved closer Harry put a hand on Hermione's arm to stop her. When she looked up at him he whispered “wards.”

Hermione nodded but as she peered through the darkness she recognized the trainers on the feet of the figure lying prone in the grass. She started shaking with fear as she grasped Harry's sleeve and started tugging on it nervously. It was taking all her strength to keep from completely losing herself.

With a wave of his wand Harry cast a protection charm on them before he towed a shaking Hermione forward. When they reached the figure Hermione fell to her knees and broke down.

“No…Merlin please!” She choked. Harry could do nothing more than stare. He felt numb.

Ron Weasley lay face up with arms and legs splayed wide. The look frozen on his face was that of complete shock, his mouth agape and eyes wide in death.

As Harry stood looking down at his dead best friend something inside him snapped. He looked up at the old house as rage, an emotion he was not all that familiar with, filled him to bursting but along with the rage came a strange sense of calm.

A voice inside his head told him he must not lose control. It was a voice very much like that of his old Headmaster, friend and mentor, Albus Dumbledore.

He stepped up beside Hermione, her face now in her hands as she sobbed uncontrollably for the boy she loved. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

“Wait here and send your patronus to the Kingsley at Hogwarts,” he whispered, “I'm going to go find Ginny and finish this once and for all.”

The next moment had Hermione shrugging off his hand as she lurched to her feet. The look on her face was sheer agony and hate. It struck Harry like a physical blow. He had never seen that look in her eyes before.

“NO!” Hermione growled tears streaming down both cheeks, “I want to watch him DIE Harry. I want to look that foul bastard in the eye as his life leaves him! You WILL NOT keep me out…NOT NOW!”

Harry knew to argue was pointless. She had come all the way with him so there was no point. He simply nodded and with another glance at Ron's dead body lying at their feet, they turned and, slipping back beneath the cloak, made their way to the Riddle house.

It didn't take long for them to get inside. The few Death Eaters left to guard the exterior were no match for the invisible duo. There curses and hexes were so amped by anger, hate and adrenaline it would be days before they would even find some of the guards who had been hit by Hermione's pumped up magic.

One of the blokes had slammed into a tree when the spell hit him. The sickening sound of snapping bones could clearly be heard upon impact. It didn't faze either one of them.

Harry decided to go around to the rear of the house. They found the same service entrance Frank Brice had once used the night he had stumbled upon Peter Pettigrew and an infantile Voldemort. Before they crossed the threshold Harry looked down at a very angry and determined Muggle-born witch.

“We need to find Ginny,” Harry whispered.

The look Hermione gave him was a mixture of pain and utter sadness.

“They thought nothing of killing Ron, Harry,” she replied, her voice cracking, “I can't imagine them letting Ginny walk away.”

The horrible thoughts of what might be happening to her flooded his conscious mind. He had to force himself to stamp them down or risk losing control. He looked at Hermione seriously.

“Leave no-one standing,” he growled. He then turned and cast his patronus. He sent it to Kingsley.

After watching his stag streak off into the distance they both turned and went into the Riddle house to finally fulfill their destiny…

When they entered they found themselves in a small room behind a huge kitchen area. They saw two figures standing on the far side of the space near a doorway.

The first Death Eaters to fall were the elder Crabbe and Goyle. They never knew what hit them. When they passed their prone forms lying on the cracked and filthy kitchen tile floor blood could be seen trickling from the elder Goyle's mouth. Harry felt nothing. They moved on.

The exit from the kitchen led into a short hall that went to the right. The darkness on the first floor interior was almost absolute. They didn't dare light their wands. Even under the invisibility cloak it would be risky so they made their way forward slowly. When they reached the other end of the hall they heard voices.

There was no mistaking who it was. They eased their way around the corner taking great care not to make a sound as the silhouettes of two figures came into view.

“Do you really think Potter would be stupid enough to walk in here and just give himself up?” Bellatrix asked.

“I believe,” replied Lucius Malfoy pausing, putting a hand to his pointed chin, “the Dark Lord thinks he will so it doesn't matter if we do or not.”

“He abandoned us at Hogwarts!” Bellatrix declared in a whining whisper, “Why Lucius? Why would he do such a thing? We've been loyal to him from the beginning. Why would he turn his back on us…on ME!”

Lucius made no reply at first but then responded in a low voice.

“You've always been a self-absorbed self-serving bitch Bella!”

Harry and Hermione couldn't agree more. Two bright flashes filled the hallway…

Seconds later - the lifeless corpses of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange lay sprawled on the tattered and dusty carpet.

On the floor above Tom Riddle felt magic stir the still air of the dank musty house. He stood slowly from the same chair he had once occupied years before when he was forced to rely on the pathetic Peter Pettigrew.

“Potter is here,” he muttered. His Death Eater Mulciber gave him a crooked-toothed evil grin as he pulled his wand and turned to the door.

Voldemort knew the idiot didn't stand a chance of stopping whoever resided below but he didn't care. It would be a distraction while he positioned himself for the kill. With a swirl of the Elder Wand he vanished - reappearing in what could be described as a large sitting room in the center of the first floor of the Riddle home.

After hearing the exchanges of curses in the all-to-brief scuffle just outside the room's double doors Voldemort couldn't help but smile to himself.

`Potter is indeed a worthy opponent - it's too bad the weakness that plagues him will be his ultimate undoing!'

The Dark Lord knew below, in the dark basement of his disgusting family's home several of his more vile followers were using the youngest blood traitor girl as a plaything to assuage their weak, vile and despicable desires of the flesh. These were things the Dark Lord cared little for. He was about to show the world they had reason to fear him…fear the very mention of his name…

Harry knew where Tom Riddle was. His scar pulsed and throbbed, searing his head with the familiar pain. As he turned toward the two ornate double doors before him it was clear the end was near. He would either end a madman's violent reign of terror or he would fall in the attempt. As he cast a glance to Hermione, her face set with utter determination he willed her with all his strength to stay back but he was aware the mere attempt to suggest it would cause her to turn her wrath on him.

“Be ready for anything,” Harry whispered. When he pushed one of the doors open it swung slowly inward with a creak of rusty hinges. When he peaked around the door jamb he saw Voldemort standing at the far end of the large room. He stood with arms folded, head bowed and eyes closed. Harry could see the tip of the elder wand showing pressed against his dark cloak by his left shoulder.

“Welcome Mr. Potter,” Voldemort said in a loud whispering hiss, “Welcome to the final moments of your life!”

Harry straightened up then standing tall in the doorway. No more hiding - no more cowering in fear. He would meet his fate with courage and dignity - he had done it once already.

He moved into the room to stand across the open space from the vile and decrepit villain. In another heartbeat Hermione Granger appeared at his left shoulder, wand held out before her ready to fight. The look on her face made Harry think Tom Riddle was indeed in a lot of trouble.

“I don't think I'd be so quick to assume you'll win Tom,” Harry said in a taunting voice, “How well did that work out for you last time?”

He saw something flash across Voldemort's features for just a blink but it was replaced instantly by that ever-present arrogance that had perpetuated his continual decline.

“Do you really think you can defeat me boy!” Voldemort growled.

“Yes,” Harry responded without hesitation, “I do!” He smiled.

“If he doesn't,” Hermione added stepping forward. Harry put a gentle hand on her shoulder holding her back, “I will!”

The conviction in her voice was absolute. Voldemort would not leave this place alive that was certain.

“Do remember Harry I possess something you desire,” Tom Riddle sneered, “a flick of my wand and she ceases to exist in this world - but perhaps you will be reunited in the next along with your filthy mudblood mother.”

Hermione reached behind her and put a hand on Harry's arm to steady him. She knew what Voldemort was trying to do. It wasn't going to work this time.

Harry patted her hand to let her know he was ok and stepped around her to face his nemesis for what he told himself would be the last time. As Harry approached his eyes never left Toms.

Behind him Harry heard someone entering the ballroom, a wailing cry piercing the dark decaying space.

“YOU KILLED HIM!” Narcissa Malfoy's wild gaze scanned the room as Hermione turned to cast a protection ward between them.

“The mudblood killed your husband Narcissa,” Voldemort said grinning madly, “Destroy her!”

Even on her best day Narcissa Malfoy was no match for Hermione Jean Granger. She was certainly no match for her in the little Muggle-born witch's present state of mind but the distraction was enough for Voldemort to try and take advantage.

He cast several nasty curses at Harry, each one deflected with only minimal effort on Harry's part. It didn't take long until Voldemort was outraged by the Elder Wands lack of effectiveness against his younger, weaker opponent. He screamed in outrage. Harry could only smirk at the so-called Dark Lord.

As they circled the room around one-another Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, Hermione had captured Narcissa in a binding spell. She lifted the older woman off the ground and was shaking her like a rag doll screaming at her to give up the fight or she would die taking care to keep her adversary between her and Voldemort.

`Smart girl!' Harry thought.

Harry got the impression Hermione was reluctant to kill a woman grieving for the loss of her husband even though he had been a life-long Death Eater. She had spared Harry after all…even if it were only a small consolation at present.

“What's wrong Tom?” Harry asked, “Plan not turning out as you expected?”

With a howl of rage Voldemort flicked his wand. A bright blue visceral apparition streaked off through the room and out the door. Harry instantly knew what it was. He had sent his patronus to his minions who held Ginny.

Harry's blood turned to ice. For just a brief moment he wavered. He wanted to save her. He didn't want her to die because of him. He didn't know how he would survive it.

It was Hermione's voice who cut through his sudden debilitating paralysis but what shocked him - she wasn't speaking out loud. The voice of his best friend - the one he was closer to than any other was in his head. Her piercing eyes were on him, her gaze intent.

`Do not falter Harry,' her voice said cutting through the pain in his scar as clear as if she were standing right beside him speaking, `There still may be a chance to save her…FINISH HIM…PLEASE…YOU MUST!'

He turned back to Voldemort with renewed determination silently praying for Ginny - but he knew Hermione was right - Voldemort had to die!

Hermione had subdued Narcissa and was now watching Harry. As he took a step toward Tom a thought occurred to him that came from nowhere. He remembered what he had been told about the first time Voldemort tried to kill him. He remembered the story of his mother's sacrifice to save his life - The power she had given to him just before her life was ripped from her - It was at that moment Harry knew the answer…

As he looked at the vile creature before him the anger and hate that filled him fell away. The only thing left was pity.

Harry dropped his own wand at his feet as he stood before what was left of Tom Riddle there in the house of his family - a family Tom himself had destroyed.

Hermione screamed at Harry but it was lost in the blast of a curse hurled in her direction to distract her from assisting. Hermione was thrown back off her feet and covered in a pile of rubble.

Voldemort then turned to Harry. The look on his face was that of one completely insane.

“What are you playing at? Pick up your wand boy and face me as an equal!”

“No,” Harry replied calmly, “You have no power left Tom. Your time is over…you're finished!”

With an ear-splitting scream Lord Voldemort - the one the British wizard world considered the most dangerous dark sorcerer of all time - the one who had terrified them all by the mere mention of his self-appointed name - the one who had been convinced he would one day be the Master of Death - hurled a curse at Harry and the entire world exploded in a bright green light…

---@>---

The resulting explosion rocked the entire Riddle house to its very foundation. A huge crystal chandelier that hung in the center of the room crashed to the floor and exploded in a million flying projectiles.

When the fallout from the blast subsided the room was still filled with choking dust and debris. Hermione Granger slowly opened her eyes.

She was laying under what appeared to be what was left of the lid to a grand piano. Taking quick stock of herself she realized, with the exception of minor bumps and what she knew would amount to some major bruising, she was mostly whole and undamaged.

Thoughts clearing finally she lurched to her feet.

“Harry?” she cried out but received no response.

After a few moments as the air cleared further she could see the outline of a figure standing quite still in the approximate center of the room. With a sigh of relief she realized who was left standing almost instantly. She would know him anywhere.

The wreckage was astounding. The precise cause was still unclear but it didn't really matter. As Harry stood there, eyes closed, thankful whatever forces that had worked on his behalf spared him from a possible alternative fate, he thought of Hermione and turned to search the debris-strewn floor.

When he saw her stirring from a small pile of rubble and heard her cry out his name he realized he began breathing again. As he watched her gingerly pulling herself to her feet he heard a pitiful wailing groan emanate from the opposite side of the room.

He was moving, even before he realized he had done so. When he reached the source of the noise he looked down to see the product of his adversary's own self-inflicted destruction.

What remained of the once-arrogant and self-important Dark Lord was nothing but reptilian-skinned sack of dried bones. His hollow eyes gaped up at Harry as he felt Hermione appear at his right shoulder. She looked down at the rotting corps with a face completely emotionless.

“A fitting end to you…you disgusting piece of filth,” she whispered.

In a voice as dry and parched as a desert what was left of Tom Riddle Jr. attempted to raise the Elder Wand with a withered and skeletal hand, “I will destroy…”

“NO!” Hermione screamed and kicked his arm. It shattered like dried twigs, “Enough! Just die already!”

The emaciated corps screamed.

Harry watched as tears of frustration and anger fell from Hermione's tormented eyes. His thoughts turned to Ginny as they heard Voldemort speak again.

“Can't…destroy…me,” he gagged, “Very soon it will be you begging for death…”

Hermione had heard enough but as she raised her wand to finish him she heard footsteps land on the stairs and race up to the second floor.

Without another thought she was off. Whoever it was she would take them down. She wasn't about to let any of Voldemort's lot go unpunished for what they did.

As she made the second floor landing she stopped. Casting a quick silencing charm about her she moved slowly and carefully down the darkened hall listening for any sound. As she neared the last few rooms toward the end she heard a muffled whisper coming from the depths of the room to the right.

“Come on! Work you stupid…”

As she turned the corner of the doorway she saw a tall figure silhouetted against the window behind. He was trying to manipulate something in his hand, shaking with frustration and nerves. As he heard someone enter behind him he froze. Without turning around he spoke.

“Well, well…come to have a go at me you jumped up little mudblood?”

“Turn around and face me you foul loathsome little cockroach!” Hermione hissed with all the venom she could produce.

He laughed - loudly. It was a high pitched manic laughter of one who knew he was facing certain death.

“Where have I heard that before I wonder…” He said as he spun round, wand at the ready - but he never got the chance to use it.

In what felt like slow motion Hermione raised her wand. In a flash of green light the figure crumpled to the floor in a heap…lifeless as the stale air and dust that surrounded him.

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7

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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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The Last Turner of Time

Standard Disclaimers Apply…

Chapter 4

Hermione swept into her office the following Monday morning to find two things sitting on her desk.

The first was a rather elaborate bouquet of flowers with a small note card in a dove grey envelope attached. When she removed said card and read its contents she couldn't help but unsuccessfully try and stifle a huge grin.

To my dearest Hermione,

Thank you for the privilege of allowing me to get to know you. I must admit I had been quite reluctant to attend my father's birthday celebration knowing what my illustrious mother had been planning. One must always remain on one's toes where she is concerned, however, I also must confess now that I am so very glad I did. It was an absolute pleasure to meet you and do fervently hope we have the opportunity to see one-another again in the near future. Give my regards to Agent Potter - (that lucky so-and-so) - and I do hope you find all the happiness and joy both worlds have to offer.

Commander William Aimsforth C-BMIS - MI6

p.s. - Not to worry, this message will not self destruct so you and yours are quite safe!

The last bit made her laugh out loud. Commander Aimsforth was indeed a very charming man. She could do nothing to quell the sensation of warmth and affection that washed over her for his polite but rather blatant solicitude.

The second was a simple standard Ministry issue envelope with her name across the front written in a hand she knew as well as her own. A sudden tingle flashed all over her as she held it in her hand looking at the rather crabby but otherwise neat script.

Her hands practically vibrated as she pulled the folded piece of parchment from the envelope and opened it.

As she read the note she wasn't even aware she had sat down in her chair. The words slammed into her as if someone was standing in front of her punching her in the chest repeatedly with hard and violent blows…

Hermione,

It was really nice spending time with you again and I appreciate the invitation to have dinner with your parents. I've always had the highest regard and respect for them and it's easy to see how very proud of you they are.

The reason for writing this is to try and explain - in the best way my rather limited intelligence will allow - that what happened just before I left that night, while being one of the most wonderful and beautiful experiences I've ever had - simply cannot be.

I've changed, you see. I'm no longer the person you grew up with Hermione. I've become something different - Dark and dangerous - Sometimes, even to myself.

I would be foolish and selfish to place you in that kind of danger to try and remain close to you. I'm not safe.

Besides, you deserve someone who can give you all the things that life has to offer with out the fear of having to watch over your shoulder for your own safety and preservation. It just isn't fare to you. You deserve more than a broken, damaged person.

I love you - I always have and always will but things can no longer be the way I so desperately want them to. I'm sorry but I cannot keep the promise you wanted. Please try and understand Hermione. It's for the best.

Harry

By the time Hermione had reached the end of his letter tears were flowing, blurring her vision and splashing on the dry parchment in her shaking hands staining it with dark circles.

But as she sat there lost in sudden and terrible misery so profound it was almost physically painful, it slowly began to change from utter grief to something else entirely…

Pure blind rage!

She stood slowly behind her desk as horrible black anger washed over her so completely it made her slightly light-headed. Her whole body began shaking from the effects.

“NO!” Hermione screamed at the closed door of her office, “Oh no you don't you blithering idiot!”

With that she was off. Hermione Granger looked, for all the world, like a raging demon stomping her way through the ministry as she made her way toward the Department of Magical Law Enforcement -Auror's Division.

Even her assistant Abigail had the common sense not to approach her or try to get in her way. Her boss looked half-crazed and half-mad! She was muttering the most unsavory and uncharacteristic things under her growling breath. She'd never seen Ms. Granger so angry or put out. She thought jokingly to herself it would not have been odd to see smoke puffing out of the woman's nostrils like a Hungarian Horntail!

When Hermione finally reached the Auror's offices she stormed through the doors like a rampaging Centaur. She literally had sparks shooting from her eyes as she made her way through the main lobby.

An older Auror with his desk situated nearest the doors spied her making her way across the room. He quickly jumped up and set himself in her path to halt her advance toward the Director's Office.

“See here young lady,” the Auror stated with authority, “You can't just barge in here like…”

But that was as far he got.

In a blindingly fast move Hermione whipped out her wand and stupefied the Auror before he had a chance to flinch.

It only took a second or two for the rest of the Aurors in the office to react and in only a few seconds more they found themselves at a rather uncomfortable stand-off with a very pissed off Director of the Department of Muggle Affairs Office.

Not a single word was spoken as more than a dozen seasoned Aurors held their ground and they simply stood there glaring at one-another with wands at the ready.

Most knew the young woman standing before them looking unusually dark and very deadly. No-one wanted to tangle with the business end of her wand. They all had heard the stories.

In the next moment Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared at the end of the group clustered in the hallway. He made his way forward slowly, with hands raised quite puzzled by the tableau before him.

“Ms. Granger,” he enquired in his deep resonating voice, “Is there something you require?”

“WHERE IS HE?” She bellowed loudly.

Her chest was heaving with the effort not to hex the lot of them. Her self-control was right on the edge and she wasn't even sure why. There was just something about Harry's note that had stoked a blistering heated rage inside her and she was almost powerless to rein it in. At this point she wasn't even sure she wanted to.

It was well past time to correct Harry's erroneous thinking and no-one was going to get in her way.

Kingsley was clever enough to discern who she was enquiring about without much thought but he also knew he had to figure out a way to calm her down or else things could get quite out of hand. He had never seen Hermione Granger so upset and he was more than well aware of the young lady's power and skill with magic. There were very few who could stand against her in a duel and he knew it.

“Where is who Ms. Granger,” Kingsley asked calmly still holding his hands out away from his sides.

“You know damned well who I'm looking for,” she hissed not the least bit embarrassed by her impertinent attitude. She thought she should have been. She had the utmost respect for Kingsley but there were darker forces at work at the moment and she just couldn't seem to manage feeling ashamed of herself.

“Be that as it may Ms. Granger, I cannot have you running about cursing my Aurors…”

“Then perhaps you should train them better,” Hermione growled interrupting his declaration. Her face was set with utter determination to get what she came for regardless of the consequences.

Kingsley quickly came to the conclusion that the only way to defuse this odd and very tense situation was to give her what she came for. There would be no talking Hermione Granger into lowering her wand this day. Whatever her motivation for acting this way was serious enough to warrant divulging certain departmental secrets in order to keep things from exploding into chaos.

With a heavy sigh Kingsley let go of the tension in his shoulders but the Aurors behind him held their places just the same.

“Harry and Neville are escorting the Bulgarian Minister and his entourage back to Bulgaria. It was a request from the Foreign Minister himself. They should be returning some time in the early hours around one or two o'clock in the morning. I'm almost certain he will go straight to Godric's Hollow when he returns. He usually does at any rate. That's the best I can do for you Ms. Granger.”

Kingsley knew the moon phase was nearing full so it was nearly time for Harry to do what he usually did during those times. He was also very aware he could be sending Hermione into a potentially dangerous situation but at the moment, the clear and present danger was staring him in the face. Besides, he convinced himself Hermione could well take care of herself and he thought - in her present state of mind - a full-blown werewolf like Remus wasn't nearly as dangerous as the woman standing in front of him.

Hermione slowly lowered her wand.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she turned and left the Auror's office as quickly as she had arrived.

Kingsley had not missed the slight quaver in her voice as she turned to leave, nor did he miss the tear that streaked down her left cheek.

Very curious!

“Merlin's ghost,” one of the Aurors exclaimed, “I really do think she would have taken us all on!”

“Wouldn't have been much of a fight,” another Auror said smirking as he stashed his wand back into his tunic.

Kingsley turned and regarded the lad for a long moment then grinned deviously.

“For whom…you…or Ms. Granger?”

They all gaped at him as Kingsley turned and made his way back to his office chuckling.

If you blokes only knew how fortunate you were…None of you would stand a bloody chance! I thank Merlin she's on our side!

>^..^<

Harry looked down at his pocket watch. It was nearly three in the morning and he was getting very tired. Not only had he been going for more than eighteen hours straight, the lunar effects on him - even two days before the next full moon - dragged at his strength and stamina like someone was slowly turning up the gravity of the planet.

He was very much looking forward to going home, stripping his clothes off and climbing into bed to sleep for at least eight hours before he had to begin taking his wolf's bane potion. He hated the stuff but was well aware how necessary it was - even if it did taste like troll piss. (Not that he knew what troll piss tasted like, mind you - it was just a euphemistic comparison.)

As he landed just outside the wards of his cottage he looked around at the moonlit valley below. The whole valley floor was covered in a thick blanket of fog obscuring everything but the steeple and bell tower of the little church where his parents were buried.

Harry thought it quite beautiful. The sky overhead was clear and the night sky littered with bright stars. He closed his eyes and reveled in the peaceful silence that always seemed to settle on the quaint little village at night.

The night air held the wonderful fragrances of late spring even though the slight breeze still held onto the sharp touch of the waning winter.

It was a comfort being so close to his family now even though it was just their resting places and he found himself walking to their gravesite on a regular basis. He had even let the Vicar talk him into attending Sunday service every once in a while and even though he didn't understand much about what was going on he enjoyed some of the Vicar's messages in his sermons.

The priest certainly seemed to be taken with this God fellow - whoever he was. Harry thought God might be a ghost or something the way the Vicar seemed to always refer to him as the Holy Spirit. He didn't sound all that different than Nearly Headless Nick. He seem like he was a good ghost just the same. Harry wondered if any of the Hogwarts ghosts had ever met the bloke.

As he got closer to the cottage he stopped dead in his tracks. His extensive Auror training as well as newly acquired instinct had his wand out crouching low and silently moving to cover.

He let his lycanthropic-heightened sense of smell take over and he sniffed the air carefully. As he stood motionless hidden in the bushes at the corner of the front of the house a very familiar scent tapped at the inside of his nostrils and it surprised him.

He had no idea why she would be in Godric's Hollow this night but he was not foolish enough to just go barging in. A skillful and clever witch or wizard could mask one's scent to appear as another's to leave a false trail if they were so inclined.

However…

There were very few people who had the knowledge to get through his wards and even fewer who knew where his hidden and unplottable home was. With that realization the tenseness left his shoulders but he still moved slowly and silently to the front door.

When he touched his wand to the doorknob the thick, round-topped front door swung silently inward. The interior was completely dark. He knew Kreacher was at Hogwarts and he was afraid to leave any candles burning so the only illumination was the weak moonlight spilling across the sitting room floor that came in through the two front windows.

The only sound was the familiar ticking of the goofy cuckoo clock George Weasley had given him for his birthday one year. When the clock struck the hour a miniature rendition of someone from his past would pop out of the hole and admonish him for some past transgression.

At high noon it was Minerva McGonagall unceremoniously deducting house points for being out of the Gryffindor dormitory after bedtime. If he remembered correctly, he thought it was Delores Umbridge at three a.m. - or maybe Rita Skeeter, he wasn't sure.

He carefully crossed the threshold and was about to call out when her voice shattered the silence like the crack of apparition.

“It's about bloody time you got home!” Hermione said in a rather impatient-sounding voice.

She sounded horribly irritated and perhaps even a bit angry. Harry moved inside and slowly closed the door. He knew she was sitting in the shadows at the far end of the couch.

“Hermione,” Harry replied, “What are you doing here at this late hour?”

“Well what in Merlin's name does it look like you dolt! I've been waiting for you!”

Oh bother - she's very, very angry! Must have something to do with my letter. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. Something tells me I should have listened to Gabrielle and met with Hermione face to face. Oh well - too late now isn't it? Perhaps you are a dolt Potter.

Hermione sat in the darkness with arms folded tightly across her chest and if Harry could have seen her face at that moment he would have seen a scowl that could have put old Mad Eye Moody's teeth on edge.

She had arrived at the cottage not long after she had left the Ministry in a towering fury. She had stopped by her flat to pick up a few things not knowing if she was going to return to London or not. She had thought about going to spend the day with Andromeda and little Teddy Lupin when she was finished clobbering the snot out of Harry.

She had sat in the darkness and silence of the quaint little house and stewed in the juices of her raging temper. She was so put out she didn't even feel like visiting the special magical little library and that only served to irritate her even further.

Now that he had finally arrived Hermione had to physically restrain herself from hexing him into component parts or tearing off his arms and beating him to death with the bloody stumps. It was a toss up!

“Well,” Harry whispered, “you could have lit a few candles or started a fire. Why didn't you at least make yourself comfortable?

In the next heartbeat Hermione was on her feet stomping toward him like an out of control Hippogryff and Harry didn't even see it coming.

She grabbed the front of his Auror's tunic and pushed him backward slamming him bodily against the front door.

“You stupid, empty-headed brainless oaf,” Hermione howled. She threw his crumpled letter at him as he tried to flinch away, “Did you really think I would just read this nonsense and let it go! Did you really think you could just shove me aside and not expect me to demand an explanation you CONFUNDED (swat), BLITHERING (swat), IDIOT (swat…swat…smack…smack)

Harry dove under his arms as Hermione attacked him with random swats, smacks and slaps as she yelled at him. She wasn't hitting him hard enough to cause physical pain, it was more just her way to make sure he was paying attention. Being pinned against the front door there was no where for him to run so he just sighed and took it.

“Calm down Hermione! I was just trying…”

“DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME TO CALM DOWN HARRY JAMES POTTER! I should just curse you right out of your bloody socks! HOW COULD YOU!”

“Merlin's bullocks,” Harry growled, “Would you please give me a chance to explain?”

Hermione stopped swatting at his head and stepped back folding her arms tightly across her chest again glaring at him with such irritation he though the look in her eyes could cause him to burst into flames any moment.

Good grief - and here I thought I was the dangerous one!

“Fine,” She growled, “this ought to be good!”

“Can I at least light a candle or two?” Harry asked rather weakly.

With that Hermione flicked her wand at the fireplace and it roared to life - great orange and yellow flames billowing out in a heated wave into the sitting room for a moment until the fire settled in the grate to crackle quite normally.

“Oops,” she was a bit shocked with her self, “Erm…sorry about that. I guess I'm a bit more out-of-sorts than I thought!”

“Ya think?” Harry asked flatly.

She whirled on him once again with a glaring look that he just knew could have scared the shite out of Voldemort himself.

“Well it's your fault you idiot! I thought you were going to explain or should I just go ahead and hex your bullocks off and be done with it!”

“Look Hermione,” Harry began giving her a pleading look still leaning against the inside of the front door, “There are things about me that have changed - things I'm not sure I want you to know…”

“And why would you not want me to know Harry,” Hermione interrupted, “There's almost nothing I don't know about you. What could you possibly reveal that would warrant you putting all that nonsense in a stupid letter like that?”

Harry balked and Hermione waited for his response, arms folded tight, toe of her right shoe tapping agitatedly on the polished hardwood floor.

“Well?” She asked gruffly.

Harry regarded her for a long moment. A memory flashed across his mind. He recalled how they used to be able to almost communicate with one-another with just their eyes. It was like they could carry on short conversations with each other without the need for a single word. There were just as many times Hermione could finish his sentences as well because they had been so closely linked and she had known, without a single doubt, what he had been thinking.

If he was going to be honest with himself - she was right - no-one knew him better than she did…so why was he so reluctant to tell her the truth?

“Because I wouldn't ever want to hurt you Hermione,” Harry replied in not much more than a whisper looking at her right in the eyes hoping to convey the urgency of his statement, “not ever…do you understand?”

He carefully let go of the iron-clad control he constantly kept on the raging monster hidden deep within him just enough to try and show her the truth without actually having to say it out loud. It made him sick and ashamed to do it but he wasn't sure he had the strength or courage to do it any other way. She had to see the truth and know how dangerous he really was.

He was certain she was clever enough to see and understand - then she would be running for the front door screaming in terror…

…and maybe that's for the best…

As Hermione stood there glaring at Harry she suddenly noticed a subtle shift in his eyes. The pupils seemed to glow and flash in the reflection of the firelight looking ferial and wild.

She watched him grimace in what looked like pain as she saw his K-9 teeth lengthen and the others sharpen just a bit. He seemed to swell in size right before her straining his clothing at the seams and even saw the tips of his ears as they grew a little pointy.

Her first reaction was to scream with terror at what she was seeing - her best friend, the man she now knew she loved more than any other - changing into a horrid-looking beast right before her very eyes - but she forced herself to stamp down her fear, remembering the promise she had made not to fail him again - and she had meant it.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard she forced her self to glare right back into his ferial gaze and then did the last thing Harry would have ever expected…

Hermione stepped up close to him and got right in his partially transformed face.

“Is this what you've been hiding from me all this time,” she asked calmly, “Sorry love? If you're trying to intimidate me…it's not going to work. You're going to have to do much better than that.”

When her words and close proximity penetrated his highly confused mind he pulled on his control with all his concentration and after regaining his usual physical form gaped at her for a long time, their eyes locked together - hers angrily defiant - his completely shocked.

“H…Hermione,” Harry stammered, “You don't understand! I'm…”

“Harry,” she growled, “Just my Harry…do you understand?”

He watched tears well in her eyes as she stood there looking into the depths of his desperate-looking gaze.

She doesn't get it. She doesn't see!

Those thoughts aggravated him more than he wanted to admit.

“I'm not safe!” He whispered through clenched teeth.

“SHUT UP!” Hermione screamed. She pressed her hands against her ears as tears of frustration exploded from her eyes, “JUST SHUT UP!”

She could not, for the life of her, ever understand or rationalize why she did what she did next…

She dropped her wand and threw herself at Harry wrapping him up in her shaking arms and kissed him with all the love and emotion and passion she could pull from the depths of her very soul.

Harry had no choice but to gather her up in his arms and let her have her way. When her mouth claimed his he instantly relented to her dominating presence. He felt her tongue force its way into his mouth desperately searching for his and when they intertwined it was as if the whole world simply stopped turning.

Harry could feel something inside him retreating. It was leaving him - almost like a colorless, tasteless mist oozing from every pore in his body.

He knew what it was - it was the darkness that had been left over from his last confrontation with the Dark Lord. It simply could not survive being basked in the pure light and love that was flooding inside him from the woman in his arms.

And then it all became completely clear!

It was the ancient magic! The same ancient magic his mother had given him when she stood defiantly in the path of Lord Voldemort the night he tried to kill him. It was the remnant of this magic Hermione was now calling forth from the depths of his soul to purge him of the taint of any of Voldemort's darkness that remained.

As Harry pulled Hermione even closer and kissed her in return he prayed that whatever power she was giving him would be strong enough to rid him of his affliction as well.

…But it didn't.

They melted into one-another again and the strange and wonderful connection that made them one entity merged their hearts, minds, bodies and souls.

For Hermione, this strange connection that was happening between them was having a far different effect on her. The raw heat, masculinity and pure animal magnetism of the man she had wrapped herself so tightly around was making her - as much as she hated to admit it - horribly randy.

Part of her thought she should be completely embarrassed by that but as she found herself sucking almost violently on his bottom lip…she just didn't really care about much of anything else but him!

Harry gently pushed her back gasping for air, trying to put a little space between them. When he looked into Hermione's eyes the look he saw there was much different than before.

She was gasping for breath as well but her half-lidded eyes were so full of raw lust and desire it was almost frightening.

“I don't care what you've become Harry,” she growled, her chest heaving again, “I love you and I want you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Nothing else matters to me! If you don't want that then look me in the eyes and tell me you're not in love with me!”

Harry stared at her for a moment. There was no way he could look her in the eye and lie to her. She would know - She would see though it but the possible consequences were enough to make him terribly uncomfortable.

“I - I can't,” he whispered, “You mean too much to me and I'm not strong enough to resist you.”

“Then show me, Harry,” Hermione demanded, “Show me the truth! That way I can decide for myself if what you're saying has any merit. It still doesn't change anything but I can't be afraid of something I can't see. I love you too much for that.”

As usual, she was right.

Harry straightened up and moved past her to light some candles to illuminate the sitting room. When he turned back to face Hermione he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Are you sure you want to see Hermione?”

“Don't make me ask again Potter,” she smirked folding her arms again, “I hate repeating myself.”

With a wave of his wand he pulled back the glamour that constantly surrounded his face and for the first time since it had been given to him he showed her what he had become.

Hermione was rather surprised at her (lack of) reaction to seeing his dead right eye and the jagged scar that looked like a small shallow valley in the skin across his forehead. She thought it should have had a more profound effect on her but after seeing what Fenrir Greyback had done to Bill Weasley and watching their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor transform into a full-blown Were right before her eyes - it really wasn't all that alarming.

Harry was stunned at how calm she was seeing him damaged for the first time. The same things that had occurred to her didn't even register in his mind. To him, his own disfigurement had always been far worse and he had never considered it wasn't nearly as bad as others.

Hermione moved toward him slowly and he flinched slightly as she reached up and traced her finger gently across the jagged scar. Part of Harry was horrified but another part of him was relieved. In fact - having Hermione know the truth about him was almost liberating.

He began to wonder if he should divulge the other secret he had been keeping from her.

Hermione looked up into his face with compassion as she let herself take in the reality of this strange situation. She wasn't frightened in the least - nor was she put off by it at all. She captured his eyes with hers.

“Tell me,” she asked. She wasn't going to demand this time. She would give him a choice, “If you want, that is. You don't have to. I guess I'm just curious. This changes nothing Harry, just so you know.”

Harry couldn't help but sigh and grin stupidly as he captured her hand and kissed her palm, pulling her close.

He told her everything…

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The Last Turner of Time

Standard Disclaimers Apply…

A.N. Please be advised - This chapter contains graphic sexual content!

Chapter 5

Harry and Hermione settled on the floor sitting next to one-another with their backs leaning against the couch starring into the softly crackling fire. His arms were spread across the cushions as Hermione sat next to him in the Lotus position with arms still tightly crossed.

“It was a little over two years back now,” Harry said in his oddly easy-going voice, “I received Kingsley's patronus telling me about a report that had just come in from Westminster about some dark-looking types hanging about a vacant warehouse. I was the first to arrive…”

“And let me guess,” Hermione cut in, “Like the barmy sot you are you thought you could handle a couple of puny dark wizard types all by yourself without waiting for backup.”

“Err,” Harry stammered giving her a rather annoyed glance but then he grinned, “I suppose I deserve that. I did survive after all.”

Hermione just rolled her eyes making a growling sound in her throat.

“The question is,” she quipped, “Did you at least learn anything from your stupidity?”

“Indeed,” Harry replied, his grin growing a bit wider, “Make sure the moon is waxing before I barge in on a Werewolf tea party?”

The look Hermione gave him was priceless and all Hermione Jean Granger.

Merlin how I love this woman! How could I have been so stupid?

Well, you have been a bit distracted for the last decade or so!

“Ok,” she hissed, “Now you're just trying to piss me off Potter.”

Harry held up his hands in resignation chuckling as he gazed into her eyes. He turned back to stare into the flames.

“I know I've made a lot of mistakes over the past several years Hermione. I've made some very questionable decisions but even though you may not agree I really did think they were for the best. I should have known better…”

He tried to continue but his voice caught in his throat at the thought of all the wasted time separating himself from the only person who would ever truly understand.

“…I've been such a fool.”

Hermione looked at him for a long moment until she finally reached out and touched his arm.

“You're not the only one who's made mistakes Harry…” Hermione said softly.

Harry's head snapped around to gape at her.

“What are you talking about Hermione? You're the one who's made all the right choices. You're one of the most important witches in the whole bloody magical world for Merlin's sake. Not many mistakes from where I'm sitting!”

“That's not what I meant Harry,” she shot back, “I should have stayed…I should have been here for you just the same way you were here for me those years ago. I left…” It was Hermione's turn to falter, “I left you here to fend for yourself.”

“You were here for me Hermione,” Harry replied, “You came here to find me remember? One doesn't keep score when it comes to things like helping one-another.”

“Perhaps you're right but be that as it may I should have pulled my head out of my arse years ago and stopped moping about like a confunded Infiri…”

“You-were-grieving Hermione,” Harry said categorically.

“For three years!” Hermione huffed, “That's not grieving Harry, that's hiding in denial! I should have come looking for you and forced you to tell me the truth a long time ago, I mean, what's the good in being a bossy little bitch if I don't utilize that particular gift when I actually need it!”

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that but then he turned very serious and pensive again looking her in the eyes.

“Look, all I know now…at this very moment in time…is that I love you…I love you Hermione.”

He turned to look back into the fire once again.

“And that's all that matters to me now but there are things that you still don't know and even now I'm not certain I'm prepared to share them with you.”

With that Hermione slowly crawled into Harry Potter's lap and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck she kissed him so deeply and so perfectly she thought her heart would just explode in her chest. When she pulled back looking into the depths of his sparkling green eyes she couldn't help but grin like a confunded idiot.

“More secrets,” She enquired with a soft whisper.

Well of course you'd understand, wouldn't you? Books and cleverness, after all.

He absent-mindedly fingered the golden locket lost in the depths of his memories for a moment trying to decide if he should divulge this last secret - A secret he had kept from her for all these years.

He was afraid of what might happen - the choices she might make and he wasn't sure he had the courage to see it through.

She deserves to know the truth Harry, you know she does. She should have the freedom and ability to choose for herself!

He had been alone for so long because he thought he had to. Now, sitting there on the floor of his sitting room with the most incredibly wonderful and oh-so familiar woman he wanted nothing more than to put all the pain and darkness of the past behind him and move forward - but there was that one last little thing standing in the way.

Harry returned the look of utter longing right back into her own eyes as she sat astride his lap. He shook his head slowly.

“Nothing,” he smiled that easy languid smile of his, “Just…nothing.”

“Well,” Hermione whispered pecking him on the lips softly and slowly two or three times, “Then you best make love to me this instant Mr. Potter or I'm going to transfigure you into something very unpleasant!”

“I certainly wouldn't want that,” he replied kissing her right back just as tenderly.

Hermione's whole body shuddered with anticipation.

“But I should take my wolf's bane potion first. It's only…”

Hermione quickly pressed two fingers gently to his lips to stall his announcement shaking her head slowly with a very devious look on her beautiful face.

“No wolf's bane tonight Harry,” she said. She then leaned forward and softly kissed her way around to his right ear, then whispered, “I want to know the beast.”

Harry felt her warm soft tongue trace the outer edge of his ear then suck the earlobe ever so gently. He thought he was going to pass out right then and there.

“Hermione,” Harry gasped breathlessly, “You don't know what you're saying. That would be too dangerous. I would never…”

“I trust you Harry,” she said still kissing his neck, running her hands over his chest, “You won't go too far. You will control it… I know you will but I want you Harry…All of you! No silly glamour - no masks - no potions…just you. Understand?”

He had to admit just imagining himself wolfing out just a little while they were…

GREAT LEAPING LEPRECHAUNS!!! I'm not sure I would survive it!

Well are you a bloody Gryffindor or not Potter?

Damned right I am - Dumbledore's man through and through!

No more excuses - No more reservations - No more hiding.

Harry wrapped his arms around her slender frame and lost himself to another heart-stopping kiss from the only woman who truly understood him to the depths of no other.

Hermione's subtle moan went right to his groin as she pressed herself forward molding her body to his.

Harry's hands began to wander as they kissed one-another again and again until the raw heat of passion began to roil under their skin.

By the time Hermione leaned back and grabbed at the hem of her jumper she was gasping. Her breathing was going ragged and the look in her eyes suggested to Harry she just might be the one to turn Were any moment. That thought made him smile.

Making short work of the jumper and her bra, she fell forward again. In the next moment Harry had her gripped tightly by the bum and lifted them both to his feet as if Hermione weighed nothing.

“Oh my…” She gasped as she wrapped her legs tightly around his middle.

The plan was to make his way into his bedroom but - as it is with many plans, this one didn't work out quite like he had expected. Harry had not taken more than two steps when the (almost) full moon peeked out from behind some thin high clouds to wash the sitting room in pale light.

He stopped and Hermione could feel his whole body tense underneath hers.

“Her…Hermione,” Harry gasp.

Instead of jumping off him and running for the door - which she realized was probably the prudent thing to do - she gripped him tighter and placed her lips next to his ear and began whispering to him softly.

“I'm here Harry,” she said without a hint of fear or apprehension, “I'm right here in your arms and I'm not going anywhere. I love you and I want you to show me the true you. I'm not afraid because I know you love me too. I know you won't hurt me. Make love to me Harry…Now! I want you this way! Take me this way Harry!”

Hermione started shaking but it wasn't with fear - it was with the raw primal anticipation of what she was about to do.

Harry began vibrating as wicked heat began emanating from his body like a stove. He growled and it came from deep within his throat.

It was a ferocious brutal sound and it want right to Hermione's core.

Her chest was heaving as she felt Harry swell, his body shifting slightly. She felt his fingers lengthen as his hands cupped her bottom. She could hear the seams of his clothing tearing in places.

“Clothes Harry,” Hermione gasped, “Don't ruin them…get them off!”

“Help me,” he growled, “I have to…to…focus!”

With a wave of her wand all their remaining garments had vanished and with her now completely naked body pressed so tightly against his the heat was immense and she began to sweat.

She could instantly feel how hard and…

OH - MY - GOODNESS!

His hands and fingers weren't the only things to grow larger because of his affliction!

Harry had let his head fall back with eyes closed as his slightly shifting form morphed into his own private nightmare. Even though he didn't fully transform and even though it wasn't a full moon quite yet he felt the changes should have been scary enough to make Hermione reconsider what she was about to subject herself to…but he was so very wrong.

When he looked back down at her, he knew his gaze was probably dark and evil but he quickly realized the irritation and anger he usually felt when he changed like this was no longer there. He wondered if those emotions had been driven by the essence of darkness that had remained after dispatching Voldemort. It was no longer there. He was calm and the sensations Hermione's soft and luscious body shifting and rubbing slightly against him was slowly sending him into sensory overload.

He growled in such a low rumble it sounded almost like a demonic purr.

When Harry first looked back down into Hermione's eyes she really thought she should be spraying all over herself and Harry like a terrified cat but the primal animal looking intently back had a completely unexpected effect on her. It made her wet, all right, but it wasn't anything unusual for a young woman so completely turned on and sexually charged by the sheer brutal creature holding her in his thick muscular arms.

“Well, what are you waiting for Potter,” she remarked in a deep raspy voice that was very much not her own, “a bloody invitation! Fecking take me already!”

With a guttural roar that made all the hair on her body stand straight up Harry practically threw her to the floor. He pinned her arms down hard beside her and took her mouth with his. He was barely in control of himself as he forced his way between her legs spreading them wide by shoving his body forward.

With teeth bared and eyes on fire with the inner light of a demon he fell on her snarling like a wild animal.

Hermione gasp - one part terrified and another part so turned on she thought she was going to die if he did not enter her soon.

Harry released her arms and Hermione lifted her hips off the floor trying to adjust herself for easier penetration. She looked down between them and saw just how large his ickle monster really was. She should have been a bit more alarmed but just couldn't manage it at the moment.

He's going to split me in half!

She thought with a touch of trepidation…but then her lips split in a devious and rather evil smile of her own as she gazed up in his hazed and ferial eyes…

Oh yes…He's going to split me in half!

The second time that unbidden thought came it held absolutely no trepidation what so ever.

Harry grabbed her slender legs and roughly threw them over his shoulders and with another guttural grunt practically threw himself forward and filled her body with one brutal thrust.

Hermione threw her head back and screamed open-mouthed as he filled her to bursting but the mixture of pain and utter ecstasy was so all-encompassing she just dug her heels into his thick shoulders, grabbed his upper arms with claw-like hands and held on tight as the utter tsunami of pure erotic bliss took her away to places she had never even imagined a man could take her!

With his animal grunts and growls he assaulted her tender and supple flesh driving her to the most mind-blowing, bone-snapping and gut-twisting orgasmic responses she had ever experienced in her young life.

Her body responded by gushing an almost obscene amount of bodily fluid in response to his tenacious and brutal attack. She found herself so gone in the utter rapture she was thrusting her hips upward trying desperately to get as much of him inside her as possible, crying out words like “MORE” and “HARDER” and “DEEPER” and “FASTER PLEASE!”

She should have been shocked or embarrassed or at least a little more circumspect but when a girl was getting physical with a partially-wild human, something like modesty doesn't even register in one's mind so she did the only thing she could do - She held on for dear life enjoying the hell out of it!

Every woman should be taken like this at least once in her life…and this one's mine all mine! - So ladies…Go find your own!

At one point Harry pulled a partially confunded Hermione onto his lap impaling her even deeper on his Were-engorged member and it was quickly becoming more difficult for her to remain conscious.

He was lifting her and bouncing her body up and down and she just let him - lost on such a massive tidal wave of pure lust and orgasmic pleasure she never wanted it to stop - EVER!

For another two solid hours they smashed into one another again and again. Hermione knew she should have been completely wrung out after the first dozen blistering orgasms but it was as if she just couldn't get enough of him. It was like her body was so starved for love and affection she was soaking it up like a dry river bed in the desert!

She had never felt so very alive and wanted and desired and she was absolutely certain it was the raw and primal animal in Harry that was fueling it - The pure desperate need to be utterly fulfilled by this man was almost frightening.

Harry took her in every position and in every physical way possible.

At one point Hermione sat astride his prone body riding him like a woman possessed, her fingernails digging deep and bloody furrows across his chest as she threw her head back, another wave of almost violent orgasms slamming into her. The next moment Harry was behind her with Hermione on her hands and knees, legs spread wide as he pulled roughly on her long mane ruthlessly pounding against her tender sweat-soaked body. She pushed herself back against his brutal thrusts like she herself was an animal in heat.

It was in this way Harry could hold on no longer and he lost himself - filling her body with his hot seed as he threw his head back and let out a blood curdling primal scream that echoed off the walls of the house. He thrust hard against her body again and again, filling her completely and then he fell forward, sinking his teeth deep into the tender flesh of her right shoulder. He could taste the blood seep from the shallow puncture wounds he inflicted with his bite - pinning her body beneath him, holding her completely still as he thrust and jerked in the final throws of release.

Hermione screamed in the combination of pain and pleasure again. She was almost certain all the people in the small village of Godric's Hollow could here them both as they let go but she just didn't care. The feeling of him filling her body with his heat and devouring her with his hot mouth was almost too much for her. Black spots danced in her vision and she felt herself drifting off into a world of blackness that was filled with ecstasy, peace and complete fulfillment. She had finally reached the limit of her endurance in the face of such complete surrender to this wholly dominant creature above her…and she had loved every fecking minute of it!

When consciousness finally returned the first thing that came to her was a deep rumbling sound. At first she thought it might be Harry's Were-induced heavy breathing because she could feel his warm body and smell his masculine scent pressed close to her side as she still lay on the floor right where she had collapsed. Along with the essence of Harry was the musky odor of her own sex and sweat and it made for a rather heady mixture.

When she was finally able to pry here bleary and swollen eyes open she couldn't help but smile. He had pulled her tightly against his body and was spooning her - protecting her even in his sleep.

When she heard the rumbling sound again she realized it wasn't Harry - the sound was coming from outside. As if to punctuate her thoughts a flash of blue-white light filed the room and a few seconds later a peal of thunder reverberated through the hills that surrounded the little green valley. A storm was approaching.

Too late! A different kind of storm has already gone and cum! (Pun intended)

When she tried to roll over in his loose embrace he shifted, his body shuddering slightly at her movement and his arms involuntarily tightened in response. She also felt a slight twinge of stabbing pain on the top of her right shoulder. When she reached up to feel it her hand came away streaked with blood.

It was then the memory of what had transpired right at the very end of the most erotic and sensual episode of her young life. She should have been terrified but much to her own surprise it didn't bother her nearly as much as she thought it should have. The memories of the past several hours made her grin like mad, sighing deeply in complete contentment.

It was when she collapsed boneless back into a sleeping Harry's arms that he finally stirred. He was now back to his old self and he had reset the glamour to hide his imperfections. Hermione wasn't sure if she liked it or not. Part of her knew why he wore it but another part of her didn't like it. It wasn't really him - but she would make no protest. It was his choice after all.

His eyes blinked a few times before he finally looked at Hermione's smiling face. The languorous look in her eyes made him smile but when his eyes fell on her right shoulder he stiffened - all pleasant thoughts retreating from his mind in the snap of the fingers.

In the next second Harry was lurching away from her and in the next breath was on his feet - the look of pure horror on his tired and haggard face. His chest heaved with quick panicked breaths.

“Harry,” Hermione asked quizzically, “What in Merlin's name…”

He pointed at her with a trembling hand.

“Your…your right shoulder,” he said rather loudly, “I…oh Merlin…Hermione I…I BIT YOU!”

She smiled and tried to play it off but Harry was having none of it.

“I told you Hermione,” he said pacing back and forth agitatedly, “I told you I was dangerous! That just proves it! You're not safe! You're NOT SAFE AROUND ME!”

Hermione herself was getting a bit peeved and she found herself getting to her own feet (albeit a bit wobbly at first - the pulsing throb between her legs telling her she was going to be as sore as a boil in the morning and that seemed far worse than the bite on her shoulder) and found herself glaring at Harry.

“Stop it!” she huffed, “Harry, it's nothing…” she looked down at her shoulder but her whole upper arm and breast was streaked with blood, “really.” She added rather weakly.

“NOTHING,” Harry roared, “NOTHING! Hermione I tried to eat you!”

“Oh enough!” She shot back stomping her foot. As if to punctuate her statement lighting flashed and was then followed quickly by a loud clap of thunder. The storm seemed to be getting closer.

“When did it start storming out,” Harry asked gazing out the front windows of the sitting room looking a bit perplexed, “The sky was completely clear when I got back earlier.”

Hermione took a deep breath closing her eyes to regain calm. When she re-opened them she looked at Harry evenly.

“Harry…the last few hours were the most amazing and erotic and thrilling hours of my entire life and your pointless fear is RUINING IT for me so please stop! I have hurt myself worse than this when I've shaved my legs for Merlin's sake! Look…Nothing's damaged…see!”

She waggled her arms and legs doing a little jig as she spun around in a tight circle in front of him. They were both still quite naked. She thought it was silly but the look on Harry's face was not quite so convinced.

“Oh very funny Granger,” Harry quipped, “Do you take requests?”

Hermione moved forward and took Harry in her arms. She reached up and pulled his head down to hers and kissed him softly. When she finally released him he starred at her wound. The bite marks were already bruising around the two whelped puncture holes left by his sharp K-9's. He couldn't help but scrunch up his a face in affected pain.

“Would you at least let me perform a healing charm on it?” He asked.

“Oh, if it will stop your brooding, go on then,” she huffed again, “It really isn't that bad Harry and…well…I think it was kind of…I don't know,” she grinned a devious little smirk looking dreamily up at him, “kind of hot actually.”

“Oh ha…ha,” he hissed as he passed his wand over the shoulder, “You're more hilarious than a barrel full of Cornish pixies you are.”

She gently placed her left hand on his arm.

“Harry I'm serious,” she said softly but very determinedly, “I love you and I trust you without question - even as the beast. You did things to me that were so deep and meaningful and profound I simply don't have the words to describe it…and how many times have you ever known this girl to be utterly speechless, hmm?”

Harry just regarded her for a long protracted moment but then conceded to her declaration with a sad and tired smile.

“Alright,” he finally said smiling, “You've made your point,” he then pointed at her cute little nose, “but we're NOT going to make a habit out of this missy. I don't think my bloody nerves could stand it too often!”

Hermione harrumphed, folding her arms under her lovely breasts lifting them up - Harry instantly began getting hard gawking down at them.

“You're no fun!” She replied with a frown but then looked down at his slight reaction to her naked body, “Erm…maybe I spoke a bit prematurely.”

Harry just rolled his eyes.

“Love,” He said seriously, “I don't mean to be a spoil sport but I'm not going to lie. I'm completely knackered. When the full moon approaches it has a tendency to sap some of my strength.”

“Could have fooled me,” Hermione grinned widely, “Very well,” she sighed, “Besides, I think I've been stretched and stuffed quite nicely for one evening…anyway…but here me Potter,” she said looking into his eyes with a playful smile, “if you think I'm giving that up on or about the full moon (her eyes darted to his Ickle Harrykins) you are so very sadly mistaken young man!”

“You are completely incorrigible,” he sighed, “You know that?”

Hermione popped him on his naked sweaty bum cheek with a loud smack and it made Harry jump a little and rub his bum mouthing the word `ouch' on the way to his bedroom.

They both fell across Harry feather mattress and in a tangle of arms and legs they quickly fell into deep slumber.

It was during that brief respite Harry had a horribly realistic dream. In the dream he found himself walking around the Hogwarts lake as the giant squid played lazily along its placid surface, its big beady black eyes completely oblivious to Harry's presence. Little silver fish darted around its tentacles like they were playing some sort of game of tag.

As he made his way toward the far edge of the Forbidden Forest bathed in the bright warm sunlight of a late spring day he suddenly realized where he was heading.

It was a secret spot he and Ginny had found in his sixth year. It was where they had stolen off to on many a late afternoon to be alone together. It was near a small waterfall of lake water run-off that cascaded down a streambed full of head-sized stones. There were small clumps of bright flowers and a few flowering bushes here and there.

They used to lie down a blanket and with a small basket supplied by Dobby he and Ginny would have little picnics and just lie in the sun and talk for hours. There were times when they would kiss and every once in a while they would allow themselves to explore a little further but always refraining from letting themselves go completely. Neither was ready for that then but Harry remembered there were a few times when it could have very easily but it was always Ginny's maturity and responsibility that stayed his hands.

“There will come a time when I won't stop you Harry,” she had told him once, “I promise…because I love you and I want you just as badly but let's do it right, ok?”

Merlin how I loved those times I was able to share with her…

But if they had known then what he knew now…

As those thoughts and memories filled his mind he got close enough to see the unmistakable shape of his beloved Ginny sitting on the small tartan blanket facing away from him looking off out into the forest, her long silky auburn mane spilling down her back like a wave of pure golden crimson honey. She had her knees pulled up and her arms were wrapped around her legs. She seemed to be shaking slightly.

He wanted to call out her name but when he opened his mouth nothing came out. When he reached the edge of the blanket his shadow fell across her slender form. It was then she peered at him over her shoulder, her eyes filled with such grief and sadness Harry thought he might just die right then and there.

He went to her and settled on the blanket beside her. Tracks of her tears could be seen streaking her lovely little freckled cheeks. He reached up and brushed them away with his thumbs.

“Ginny,” Harry thought, “What is it? Why are you so sad?”

Ginny just sat mutely regarding him for a long moment when a sad smile curved her sweet soft lips into that little bow he was so familiar with.

“Oh Harry,” he heard her reply in his mind, “I forgot how thick you could be sometimes.”

Her youthful voice was like the loveliest melody in the whole world. He couldn't help but smile at the memory of it.

“No-one knows that better than you Ginny. I'm sorry if…”

Ginny stopped him with a hand placed gently on his knee.

“Harry you have nothing to be sorry for. I can no longer be the one to give you the love you need and deserve. I don't blame you. You love and need her Harry and she needs you too. My only wish is that I could have stayed and been a part of it all. Just know that I love you Harry and I always will.”

When she turned her sad eyes upon his again Harry felt the crushing weight of guilt and grief wash over him like a granite wave. He fell forward and lost himself one more time in the arms of the girl he had loved so much that he would have gladly traded places with her.

She caressed his face gently, this time being the one to wipe away the tears but as he felt her warm soft lips press gently against his forehead he realized she was beginning to fade.

“No…Ginny, please stay - Just for a while longer…please?”

She smiled at him again.

“You know I can't. This is not my time…it's your time now Harry - You and Hermione. You'll live a long and happy life together caring for one-another as it should be. I can think of no-one better for you now Harry. Love her the way you loved me.”

“I still love you that way Ginny!” Harry choked.

“Give Gabrielle my love as well, won't you darling,” She said as she drifted into a swirling mist, “I'll be waiting for you when it's your turn to come home and then you'll belong to me forever...”

Harry lurched up into a sitting position wide-eyed and covered in a cold sweat.

“Harry…oh Merlin, Harry,” Hermione said in a shaky voice kneeling beside him on the bed, “Are you alright! You were screaming! I couldn't wake you…You were screaming!”

Harry looked sideways to see tears streaming down Hermione's face, a look of pure agony crumpling her beautiful features.

“Wha…what,” he gasped breathlessly, “A dream Hermione…just a dream.” He was trying to convince both of them.

“You were screa…screaming Ginny's name,” she said hiccupping slightly, her miserable voice taking on a rather house elf-like quality, “Oh Harry what have I done! I had no right…”

“Stop it Hermione,” Harry growled forcefully, “Don't say that!”

“But Harry,” Hermione continued slipping from the bed wrapping a small throw around her naked body, “It's true. You still love her. You still miss her and I'm defiling your memories of her…”

“ENOUGH!” Harry yelled loud enough to make Hermione start violently frozen in an instant of utter misery and fear, her eyes wide in confusion.

Harry brought his hands to his face and moaned into them trying to quell his jumbled thoughts. When he let them drop limply back onto his lap he looked at Hermione apologetically.

She was now standing with one foot on top the other chewing on her thumbnail nervously looking for all the world like a sacred little girl. Her hair was a wild mess and the tracks of her tears glistening in the candlelight. If things weren't so off-kilter, he would have thought her completely adorable.

“I'm sorry for yelling Hermione,” Harry whispered looking down at nothing, “I'm just a bit out of sorts but in all honesty you are not defiling anything.”

He patted the mattress next to him beckoning her to join him on the bed again.

“Please Hermione. I love you and I think it's time,” he said cryptically.

“Ti…time for what Harry,” she replied, her breath still hiccupping slightly still not certain if she should let herself feel the things she had been feeling earlier that evening.

The skies outside the cottage still lit up with lightning and the cottage rumbled with thunder but the worst of the storm had passed. The rain had slowed to a steady pitter-patter on the windows.

“For you to know the truth,” he replied a bit stoically, “and I'm not sure how I like this tentative Hermione. I think I much prefer the brazen bossy little wench who apologizes to no-one for who and what she is or what she does.”

Finally Hermione crawled across the bed and settled on some pillows leaning against the headboard next to him still clutching the throw around her.

Harry glanced down at her wrapped up like a burrito then looked up into her eyes, one of his eyebrows lifting.

Hermione defiantly lifted her chin peering down at him.

“I'm a bit chilled,” was her only reply. Harry couldn't help but crack a wide grin at that.

“Better,” he quipped.

With that he held his left hand out.

“Accio wand.”

Harry's wand zipped into the room like a dart, turned the corner just inside the bedroom door and landed in his hand. He then glanced at Hermione again holding out his right hand.

“I need the locket.”

Hermione's hand instantly flew to her chest where the small gold locket lay nestled between her breasts and she clutched it tightly.

“What are you going to do to it Harry,” she swallowed nervously, “This is one of my most prized possessions! I won't let you damage it!”

Harry held up his right hand to stay her protest.

“I promise Hermione I will not damage the locket,” he said softly meaning his words, “but there's something locked inside that I think you should see.”

Hermione's face instantly went blank as she glared at him for a long moment.

“I knew it,” she huffed, “Did you turn it into a Horcrux or something?”

Harry's head snapped toward her with a look of incredulity on his face.

“Of all the barmy…” He hissed, “Of course not! Don't be ridiculous.”

“Then what's inside of it,” she enquired again, “The Resurrection Stone or something like that?”

That thought shocked him a bit because as far as Harry knew the two pieces of the stone were still lost somewhere at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and the thought that it just might have a close relationship to what was actually inside the locket was a bit spooky that she would guess that very thing.

“No Hermione it's not the stone.” He said calmly, “As far as I know that thing is lost and just as I told Dumbledore's portrait it can stay that way as far as I'm concerned. If you'll let me hold the locket I'll show you what's inside.”

She sat there motionless for another few seconds simply regarding Harry coolly when the corner of her mouth curled into a sly little grin. The way she was smiling made Harry's heart skip wildly all over his chest and the sheet covering his lower body twitch slightly into a small tent.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Very well,” she replied, “Under one condition.” She held up her index finger.

“And that is?” Harry asked smirking himself now.

Hermione shifted a little feeling a bit devious backing her lover into a corner like this but hey, a girl has to have her priorities straight. He wanted the bossy little bitch then so be it! She then leaned over and put her lips next to his ear.

“I get to have the wolf whenever I want! No restrictions, no reservations, no excuses. Agreed?”

“Why did I know you were going to say that?” Harry sighed deeply.

“Hey, I'm nothing if not persistent,” she smirked, “You of all people should know that. I always find a way to get my way Mr. Potter,” She kissed his cheek, “Do we have a deal?”

Harry rolled his eyes again rubbing his chin.

“Well, I could just let this remain a secret forever because if I know you as well as I think I do,” he turned to give her an evil eye, “and I do, you've already tried to open it haven't you, without success I see.”

Hermione's mouth and eyes went wide at first then narrowed to thin slits, a dark and dangerous scowl settling on her face.

“Well,” she huffed, “You certainly don't play fairly do you!”

With that Hermione lifted the locket from around her slender neck working it loose from her long tangled mass of hair and gave it over - albeit very reluctantly - to Harry.

“If you so much as scratch the surface I'll portkey you to the south pole in your birthday suit mister! I swear I will!”

Harry took the locket in his hand and waved his wand above it whispering “engorgio.”

The locket grew in size until it was a bit larger that a golden snitch. When he glanced at Hermione she had not taken her eyes off the locket watching his every move like a hungry buzzard.

Next Harry moved his wand above the locket in small circles three times clockwise and three times counter-clockwise, then recited the phrase…

“Better off dead then expelled from Hogwarts.”

There was an audible click as the enlarged locket twitched in his hand.

Hermione's face fell completely blank as she crossed her arms tightly giving Harry a dead-pan look of utter exasperation.

“Oh for the love of…” she groused, “You're never going to let me live that little slip of the tongue down now, are you?”

Harry just looked at her for a pregnant moment then just shrugged.

“Nope!”

Hermione huffed, batting at his shoulder.

“Before I open this I need to tell you how I came to be in possession of such a thing,” he began, leaning back against the headboard. He glanced over at her again, “You interested?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Does a chocolate frog have only one good hop?”

“I suppose I'll take that as a yes,” he chuckled, “It was the night we went to the Riddle house and after all that had taken place you scampered off up the stairs to the second floor. At first I had no idea why but when I saw you throw a curse into the last room at the end of the hall I realized you had just killed someone with the Killing Curse. I'm not going to lie Hermione…I was more than a bit shocked.”

“I…I,” Hermione began to stammer but Harry just leaned against her and kissed her cheek.

“You don't need to explain,” he said looking at her with complete understanding in his eyes, “I've never asked you to and I never will. Anyway, it doesn't matter. What's done is done…sort of.”

That last cryptic statement made Hermione's eyebrows come together in confusion.

“After you turned and left I went inside the room just to check to make sure Malfoy was indeed dead. When I rolled him over I discovered he was holding something in his hand. When I realized what it was I almost fainted. I couldn't believe what I was looking at but…there it was. The other thing that made me ill was how close it had been for all of what we had done to have turned out completely different than any of us had intended.”

“At that point a million thoughts raced through my brain as to what I should do with it. I kept its existence from everyone including you. I'm not exactly sure why now but it was one of those decisions I made that I was almost certain that I would one day come to regret - and now, sitting here with you at this very moment, I think I've reached that day…”

Hermione looked at him for a long moment not certain what to say or how to respond to what he had just said. All she knew was that curiosity was gnawing on her nerves like a thousand garden gnomes.

When Harry opened the now-enlarged locket and held it out to her it suddenly felt like the entire world - space, time, light, sound and even breathing - came to a grinding halt.

Sitting nestled in the half-shell of the locket Harry had given her so many years before was the very Time Turner she had used their third year at Hogwarts. She was not only completely frozen with confusion and trepidation she could not seem to believe her own eyes.

“B…But how,” was all she could get out before her throat completely seized up.

“I'm not sure,” Harry replied calmly, as if it was no big deal holding such a thing, “but I have a few theories. The first of which was that after you gave this back to Professor McGonagall she didn't return it at once back to the ministry to be replaced in the Department of Mysteries. I think she might have given it to Dumbledore for safe keeping in his office until it could be returned. I'm certain she would not have left something like this laying around her classroom or chambers with the likes of Fred and George Weasley running about the school. It would be just like them to snatch such a thing but I'm not exactly sure.”

“If that's the case then it may have been just that it was forgotten about what with all the craziness we were getting up to then. I'm sure it had been a bit distracting to the staff, yes?”

Harry smiled at her but Hermione had turned ghost grey starring at the device like it would jump out of the locket and bite her head off. She had not moved a single muscle and seemed to be in a trance-like state, mouth and eyes wide in utter shock.

He knew her mind was busy working through all the implications its presence suggested. He just wanted her to hear him out so he began speaking again.

“If my theory is anywhere near correct that would mean that this was still in the Headmaster's office when Severus Snape took it over after we left. I thought about Dolores Umbridge but if I remember correctly the gargoyle wouldn't let her in when she took over the school so it probably wasn't her.”

“If Snape did find this in the Headmaster's office it might explain how it came to be found in Draco's possession. I'm not exactly sure why he would have given such a thing to Draco but I have no other theory to support it but what I do know for certain is that he had it that night you killed him at the Riddle house and I think…I think…”

“He was trying to make it work,” Hermione finished for him in a very small, very weak voice, “He was trying to go back in time to change the outcome…Oh Harry!”

Her words landed on them both like a pile of Mountain Trolls. Harry had already come to that conclusion but hearing her say it just made it all the more real.

Without another word Hermione silently slipped off the bed and glided almost ghost-like to the windows in Harry's bedroom that looked out upon the green hills that surrounded Godric's Hollow.

Streaks of lightning and rumbles of thunder could still be heard off in the distance and the rain still ran down the panes in long thin streams. In her reflection Harry could see the tears falling down the apples of her cheeks like the rain beyond.

He wanted to say something comforting but he knew it would do little good.

“What this means to me is that if you had not stopped Draco that night life would probably be very different right now. I didn't save the world Hermione…You did!”

Hermione turned and looked at him with such sadness it made his heart ache painfully.

“No Harry,” she replied, choking on her misery, “I only played a part. You were the catalyst all along. You know that.”

Harry knew where Hermione's thoughts were going as he slipped out of the bed himself. Waving his wand his trousers zipped silently into his grasp and he quickly stepped into them. He then carefully removed the Time Turner from the locket and placed the latter on the small table beside the bed before making his way slowly over to where she was standing looking blankly out the window.

When he came up beside her he was holding the device in the palm of his right hand.

“We can change things Hermione,” he said softly, “We…ourselves can go back and change things. Knowing what we know now…”

“NO!” Hermione yelled, lurching back away from Harry like he had transformed into something hideous, eyes wild with pure terror, face streaked with tears, “No Harry! I know what you're suggesting but I also know what would happen. HE would be alive again and we would have to go through all of it again…no!”

“But we'll know what needs to be done…”

“It wouldn't work,” she said, tears falling again even worse then before, her face wrinkled in utter misery, “It wouldn't change anything! I'm certain of it! Harry I have spent the last four years trying to cope with losing Ron just as you have trying to deal with losing everyone you've ever loved! Why would you want to put yourself through all that again…”

“But we wouldn't Hermione,” Harry said emphatically but Hermione just raised her hand closing her eyes tightly.

“You don't know that Harry,” she replied just as forcefully, “One mistake - one simple error could mean complete disaster for ALL of us next time, don't you understand and I am not about to take that kind of responsibility on myself to risk it even knowing what it costs!”

She looked up at him pleadingly.

“I love you Harry,” she choked, “I know that now. Maybe I've always loved you from the day I set foot in your compartment on the train that first year, I don't know but what I do know is that I've had to go on - I've had to learn to live without Ron and I have. He knows this, wherever he is he knows and he understands. I have to believe that Harry or I'll be forced to spend the rest of my life alone but after what has happened between us tonight I've realized for the first time in four years…I no longer have to! I have you.”

Her voice finally trailed off into a dreadful squeak and it made Harry's soul twist into knots. He wasn't sure how to respond. He needed to know if it was really what she wanted. It seemed to be but as he thought about his dream of Ginny he realized she was right. Even though, he wanted to giver her that choice.

“You could have him back right now Hermione?” Harry whispered.

“Is that what you want Harry,” she replied, barely able to speak, “Do you want Ginny back?”

Harry thought about her question for a very long moment and when he heard Hermione sob once again he looked back up at her - tears now falling from his own eyes.

“As much as it hurts me to admit this,” he tried to collect himself but failed. He glanced back up at her, “I'm absolutely certain I have everything I need and want standing right in front of me but at the moment that's the only thing I am certain of.”

With a heaving sob Hermione reached out and snatched the Time Turner from Harry's hand. Without a single moments hesitation she threw it to the floor of his bedroom and they both watched as the little delicate device that could have changed both their lives by reliving the past shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces…

Mischief Managed…

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