The Fusion Paradox

Prologue

I don't need a lot of things,
I can get by with nothing
Of all the blessings life can bring,
I've always needed something
But I've got all I want
When it comes to loving you
You're my only reason,
You're my only truth

I need you like water
Like breath, like rain...

The night of Harry's 21st birthday was a joyous one. Friends from all over the wizarding world congregated in his apartment, talking and laughing, catching up on old times. Harry was in the balcony, taking a breather and sipping a glass of white wine. Hermione stepped outside to join him, holding a slice of bread pudding on a saucer in one hand and sliding the glass door shut with the other.

"Hello... I brought you this. Want to go for a walk? I couldn't actually find some toast and thought this would be a good substitute," she teasingly while setting the saucer down on the small table.

Harry laughed, remembering all those walks around the lake. He ran a hand through his hair, which was still sticking wildly in all directions. No matter what he did to it, it had a life of its own. He smiled at her sheepishly and said, "I just wanted some space. I needed to think for a while."

"Would you rather prefer that I leave you alone?" Hermione asked, poised to turn back inside the apartment.

Harry stopped her by taking hold of her hand just as she was about to walk towards the glass doors. He pulled her near to him and held her loosely within his right arm. She slipped an arm comfortably around his waist and rested her head on her shoulder. They stood quietly there for a while, just listening to each other breathe.

Ron slid open the balcony door and froze as he saw the scene before him. Hermione gently disentangled herself from Harry's embrace and looked at Ron. "Come, join us for a while."

Ron relaxed visibly and joined them. He was holding a flute glass of champagne and sipped slowly as he looked at his two friends over the rim of the glass. Harry was looking at Hermione, who was leaning on the railing, looking at the city lights below. Ron sighed. Hermione had always been a silent point of contention between him and Harry. Not that it ever interfered with their friendship. They had been careful not to compete openly for her affections. And their friendship was paramount to any other extraneous feelings. Sometimes, he wished it wasn't so. It was hard not to go for what you wanted, although Harry seemed to be doing a fine job of it. He walked over to a wrought-iron chair and sat on it.

Looking over at Hermione again, he thought about her decision. She was insistent upon living as a single woman. And therefore, not really inclined towards being in a romantic relationship at this point in her life. She was careful not to favour either of them. Ron knew that she was not aware of the 'man-to-man' talk he and Harry had about her in the seventh year. At first they thought that perhaps she might prefer those of her own sex, because she did not really respond to any of the romantic overtures they made towards her in their last year at Hogwarts. She had to correct that impression when they finally worked up the nerve to ask --- she just did not 'swing that way.'

Hermione told them that there was nothing wrong with wanting to be on her own for a while, no offence to their friendship. Ron thought suspiciously that perhaps it had been that very friendship that stopped her from making an actual choice between him and Harry.

He looked at the view between the bars of the railing, contemplating the feathery design of the night clouds against the sky. Trust Harry to pick a building high enough to have a view that was the nearest thing to being on a broomstick. Not that he had any complaints about it, he grinned inwardly, swirling the clear liquid inside his glass. He had a unit here himself. But nothing as grand as Harry's penthouse.

Hermione turned back to face them, leaning the small of her back against the railing and crossing her arms across her chest. She shivered a little and rubbed her arms for some warmth. She was glad that none of the two boys immediately went into action to offer her a coat or something. They had learnt their lesson from falling over their feet, trying to anticipate her every need in their last year of school. It was sweet for a while but then it irritated her that they were doing it continuously. She did not think of herself as a particularly fragile female and told them off. From then on, they were careful not to pay her any special attention, although it was rather amusing when they slipped at times.

Harry restrained himself from removing his coat for exactly 5 minutes. He could not stand it anymore and muttered, "Sorry" before handing his coat to Hermione.

She grinned and said, "Don't worry, I won't bite your head off for this." She slipped the coat around her shoulders and sat down on the chair next to Ron.

"Doesn't it seem a bit...anti-climactic, picking careers as professional Quidditch players after Voldemort?" Hermione looked upwards at the sky dreamily. She started twisting a lock of her hair around her finger.

Harry stared at the lock of hair being wound around the finger in fascination. He shook himself out of his reverie and leaned against the railing. "Why not? Maybe we just got tired of chasing after evil. A guy has to have a bit of rest at times." He crossed his arms across his chest defensively.

"Mind you, Quidditch is real work. Getting hit by bludgers and chasing after a tiny ball is no mean feat," Ron added. "All work and no play makes these Jacks dull boys."

"You're nutters, both of you," Hermione said fondly. To be honest, she did understand where they were both coming from. It had been tiring to have a Sword of Damocles over one's head in the form of Voldemort. And it was not easy to be on the sidelines as well, worried for your best friend. She and Ron could attest to that.

However, whereas she went on to become an Auror precisely because of their experience with Voldemort, the guys decided to go on to professional Quidditch. Being an Auror did not have the same appeal. Not when you could always have the fame and adulation that came with playing such a popular sport.

She looked at the night sky and started identifying familiar constellations silently. Orion. Taurus. Cassiopeia. Sirius. Oh, no --- that reminded her about something. Sirius was supposed to come up with the big birthday surprise an hour before midnight. And it was only a few minutes before that.

Hermione stood up, gave back the coat to Harry and said, "I think I'll be going in." She wracked her brains for an excuse to ask him to go back to the party. "Harry, er, as the host you have to mingle with your guests." She looked at Ron meaningfully.

Ron caught on to what she was trying to do and stood up. "I have to get a refill anyway. Come along," he urged Harry.

Harry looked from Hermione to Ron and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, just give me a minute." He slid his arms into the coat, straightened it and slid the sole button deftly into its hole. Hermione brushed off any lint from the lapels of his coat and felt him shiver a little.

"Cold, Harry?" she asked solicitously.

"Ah, not anymore." He hoped that the relative darkness hid his blush well.

They stepped back inside to rejoin the party, which had become quite loud. Fred was doing a trick that did not involved magic --- he stuck a spoon on his nose and was parading himself around amidst howls of laughter. George slipped something on the seat Susan Bones was about to sit in. She jumped as a loud shriek seemed to emit from the chair, "You sat on me! That huuuuurt!" She shooked a finger at George, who was clutching his stomach, chortling at the success of his prank, then gave up and giggled along with him.

Charlie Weasley, Draco Malfoy and Remus Lupin were standing near the fireplace, chatting about the latest in dragonhide usage. Ginny Weasley was talking quietly in a corner with Colin Creevey and Terry Boot. Oliver Wood was conversing with Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet. Cho Chang was sitting on the sofa set with a pregnant Penelope Weasley while her husband, Percy, went to get a glass of water for her. Reubeus Hagrid was at the table, eating with the other latecomers: Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Bill Weasley and his wife, Max, and...Severus Snape. Hermione stifled a small cry at seeing her old Potions teacher sitting at the table, chatting amicably with Professor McGonagall. It still jarred her a little at times that he was on better terms with Harry, seeing as they had all fought to bring about the defeat of Voldemort. Not best friends, but anything was better than the days he had stripped so many points from Gryffindor on Harry's account. Perhaps the reason why they were on better terms was that Snape could no longer find a way to pick on Harry. Hermione shook her head at such cynical thoughts and smiled brightly when she saw Sirius coming toward her.

Uh-oh. He has a worried look on his face. Not a good sign, she thought anxiously. Sirius beckoned her to follow him and she discreetly went into the kitchen a few seconds after he disappeared into it.

"We have a problem," he said without shilly-shallying. "Sabrina can't make it. She came down with the flu this afternoon. I did bring her costume, though."

Hermione thought quickly. She could not ask Ginny to take Sabrina's place and jump out of Harry's cake in a skimpy costume --- otherwise, all the Weasley men in attendance would try to cover up their 'little' sister. She grinned at the image it produced, which prompted Sirius to ask her about it. She shared it with him and they had a laugh before hurriedly discussing other possibilities. Cho would have been a logical choice, except that they felt a little intimidated about asking her. She was very nice, but it might put her in the awkward position of refusing them. Sirius and Hermione came up with a few more names but discarded them just as swiftly.

Hermione groaned and looked at Sirius. "I'm going to have to do this, aren't I?" She felt extremely shy at the thought of doing it and she felt her knees quail at the thought. She started silently rationalising it away...it was a blow against her image as a single, independent woman (but she was perfectly willing to let their friend Sabrina do it, her mind traitorously thought), she was not the type to do it (but neither was she thought to be the type who wanted to remain single forever) and she would forever humiliate herself (even though it was for a good cause). At least she knew the dance. She had to research on it and teach it to Sabrina, which had been a lot of fun when she thought someone else would be doing it.

She wanted to tell Sirius that maybe they should not go through with it anymore but then everyone knew about the surprise and was expecting it. Except for Harry, of course. Oh, Harry, she thought and decided in that instant that there was nothing else but for her to do it.

Sirius had been watching her face carefully and knew the battle had been won when he saw the resignation there. He quietly handed over the costume to her and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. When she selected it weeks before, she had no idea she would end up being the one wearing it. Or else she would have chosen a more conservative one. The old maid costume would have been perfect.

They hurriedly went out of the room and into the hallway. Hermione slipped inside the giant cardboard cake. She dressed inside it and tossed out her clothing to Sirius, who went to the hallway cupboard and left it there. He went into the living room and gestured for Ron to go outside. He then switched off all the lights, which instantly hushed all the conversation. Ron started rolling the giant cake inside while everyone started singing, as if on cue, "Happy birthday to you...happy birthday to you..."

Harry was surprised to see the cake (which was huge and probably fake) with its enchanted candles lighting up the enormous living room. Sirius grinned at him and placed a ribbon in his hand. "Happy birthday, Harry."

He pulled the ribbon and the candles started floating towards the ceiling. The cake slowly opened and a girl dressed as a belly dancer slowly stood up, hands gracefully moving about in the air. She stepped out of the cake and began dancing, making all the veils whirl about around her. She was not looking at anyone but Harry, and so did not see the stunned look on Draco's face when he recognised her. He looked around the room to see if anyone else had caught on to it but it seemed that only Ron did, as he was frantically signalling to Sirius.

She twirled around and around, then bent over backwards while swishing the veils in her hands. The gold coins on a chain clinked against each other as her belly undulated. Everyone watched in fascination as she let her long hair touch the floor before rolling back up and swaying her hips.

Harry knew from the very moment she stepped out that it was Hermione. Blood started pumping loudly in his veins and he felt like he would combust at that very moment. He looked steadily at her as she began circling the room, tantalisingly removing the veils one by one, tossing them at every male in the room. She came to a stop in front of him, hesitantly removed the veil that covered her face and gave him a kiss.

It was supposed to be only a friendly peck to cap the whole performance but Harry held on to her, keeping his hands on her waist, kissing her fiercely. She dimly heard the applause coming from the others but could not focus on it as her mind was spinning. Her heart pounded in her ears. She felt as if all the bones in her body had melted and she was left holding on to him to keep from sliding to the floor. They broke off the kiss and stared into each other's eyes. She found that she was sitting on his lap, although she could not recall getting there. Coming to her senses, she re-fastened the veil and fled into one of the rooms. Sirius followed her with her clothing and left her to dress up.

Ron was stunned. It was as if his mind could not accept what had happened. He wanted to punch a wall, punch anything and anyone. Except for Harry. He looked at the floor, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The excited babble around him slowly filtered into his consciousness..."I didn't know Hermione could dance like that"..."Wow, guess all women should hang out in the library if they turn out like that --- oww!"...that had been Fred being hit by Angelina..."Are they going out or what?"...

He slumped in his seat, waves of dejection washing over him. He went over to the bar and joined Oliver, who was pouring himself a drink. It was going to be a long night and he wanted to be mind-numbingly drunk before it ended.

The show was over. Some of the guests were already Apparating out. Some had passed out right on the carpet. Some of them had been provided with rooms, as they were staying over. Draco went over to a couch, dropped gracefully into it and yawned, wondering where Hermione could be. He did not notice Harry slipping into the room Hermione disappeared into.

************

Hermione turned and looked at Harry, who entered the room just as she was about to change. They looked at each other and Hermione felt herself weaken as he walked purposefully towards her.

"Did you know that this is my room?" he whispered softly as he came within touching distance of her.

"I didn't think at all when I..." Suddenly she felt as if all the air in the room had been sucked out as he trailed a finger down her cheek and continued leisurely down her arm. The next thing she knew, she was in his arms and they were kissing intensely, drinking of each other, hands frantically seeking the warm skin underneath the clothes. All other thoughts vanished as he bent over, carried her, and set her on the bed, all without breaking off the kiss.

That was fine. She did not want to think of anything at all except this.

************

She laid quietly in the dark, listening to his deep breathing, watching as his chest rhythmically went up and down regularly. His arm was beneath her head, the other curled loosely around her body. Please, please, let him be asleep... she pleaded silently.

Hermione slid quietly off the bed, not bothering to cover herself with the sheet as it might disturb the man sleeping soundly in the bed. She picked up her clothes swiftly from the floor, put them on hastily and made her way to the door. She whispered a silencing spell on it and froze as he shifted his sleeping position; his hand searching sleepily at his side before deep slumber claimed him again. Looking at his beloved face, angelic in repose, she felt as if her heart was breaking. If there were any other way...she shook her head in response to her own doubts and stiffened her resolve. I already gave him the only gift I could give. I have messed up enough, I don't want to mess up everything. It would be better if I left now. She looked at him again one last time, wishing that she could at least brush away his fringe off his forehead. Turning away, she opened the door and walked out of his life.