A Whole New Chapter

Chapter 5: Crazy

Ron and Hermione had set off for their honeymoon. It had taken quite a bit of arguing, but the couple had finally settled on a grand spot.

Hawaii, USA.

So, waving good-bye to all of their wedding guests, the grinning twosome went on their way. They were not there to witness the drama between two of their closest and best friends. No, the Weasleys (Weasleys. Hermione had definitely liked the sound of that when she thought about it) didn't know that what they were trying to pull off for so long just went up in smoke. Even so, had they known, it would not have stopped them from having a fantastic honeymoon.

And a fantastic honeymoon they did have.

Ron clung to Hermione like a frightened puppy whilst they boarded the plane. Apparently, Ron was a bit skeptical that an airplane could hold so many people without stumbling with the weight.

"What if there's a very large, obese man on the plane, Hermione? The plane will crash!" He exclaimed. Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband.

"Ron," she explained, "this airplane is perfectly capable of holding a plethora of weight and a lot of people. Don't be such a worrywart. Everything will go just fine." She caressed his hand to comfort him. "Trust me."

Ron took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. Well, he thought, if Hermione says everything will be all right... Right then, for Hermione.

Ron and Hermione made their way to their seats, 42A and 42B. Both of them were laughing at a rather amusing joke they heard from another passenger when they froze in their tracks.

Someone else was occupying their seats.

It should have been two people, as there were two seats, but this man really needed both seats. He was large and plump, with a rosy complexion and a sour face. He seemed to have a few scratches and a bruise on his nose, which seemed rather flat. Hermione stared at the man, feeling a sense of déjà vu. Ron immediately crossed his arms over his chest.

"Excuse me, sir," he began kindly, if a bit rushed. "I believe you are sitting in our seats." The man snorted, then coughed. It was as if he had tried to swallow a great deal of something. Mucus, Hermione thought, disgusted.

"I'm sorry, old chap," the man replied, almost sneering at the two of them. "But I believe this is my seat." Ron shook his head adamantly. His face was starting to turn red, and Hermione immediately took in all of the warning signs. She shook his arm frantically, urging him to calm down. Ron paid her no heed.

"I'm very sorry, sir," said Ron in a huff. "But you see, my WIFE and I are on our HONEYMOON. We looked at OUR TICKETS very CAREFULLY, and found that OUR seats, 42A and 42B, are right HERE. Now if you don't MIND, I SUGGEST that you move to YOUR seat and let us enjoy ourselves." Ron leaned on the row of seats next to them, his arms still firmly planted across his chest. Hermione was biting her lip, nervous about what was about to happen next. She still couldn't shake the feeling she had seen this terrible man somewhere else before.

The large man seethed and radiated with anger. "Now see here, SONNY. I have every right to be in this seat, because this is row 33A, not your blasted 42! I came here to enjoy myself as well, and I'll be damned if I have to give up my seat to you people."

"You people?"

"Yes, you people! A pouf and his friend, who's only posing as his wife." Hermione swatted Ron's hand away as she saw him reach for his wand. That didn't hinder Ron from an argument with this man.

"A pouf? You think I'm a bloody pouf! Let me tell you, sir, there's nothing wrong with being who you are. There IS something wrong with being called something you're not! I am NOT gay, this IS my WIFE, and you had best move right now--"

"OH, I'LL HAVE NONE OF THIS! You skinny people always rub it in the faces of those who aren't like you that you should get the better seating, better clothes, everything! I'm tired of having to face you people every day of my life. In my opinion--"

"The day I take your opinions to mind is the day the four horsemen of the Apocalypse ride through my home!"

"--you'd be better off gaining a few pounds on that twiggy frame of yours. HEY! A WISE GUY, EH? Well let me tell you something, Mr.--"

"THAT'S ENOUGH, BOYS!!!"

Both men turned sharply to the shrill scream of the woman who had stayed quiet throughout the whole affair. Until now.

Hermione was positively spitting fire at both her husband and the rude man. She grabbed both of them by the ear and, with a strength she didn't even know she had, threw the fat man into the aisle and her husband into his seat. She glared daggers at the both of them.

"Ronald Weasley! I cannot believe that you would take the bait and argue over such a silly problem!" The man was about to agree with her when she rounded on him.

"And as for YOU! I remember you perfectly well! You are the rude man from the subway who could not stop ranting about how the slender make life difficult for the not so slender. Well, let me tell YOU something, Mister. YOU are giving your people a bad reputation, and were you not so rude and obnoxious to the people around you, you might experience a drop of kindness every now and again! And for your information, my husband is just FINE THE WAY HE IS, and it would do YOU some good to LOSE a few pound off of that ROUNDED FRAME OF YOURS! NOW MOVE, BECAUSE YOUR SEAT IS UP AHEAD! PERHAPS YOUR ATTITUDE PROBLEM HAS CREATED A VISION PROBLEM AS WELL, BUT I AM NOT GOING TO DEAL WITH YOU ANYMORE! I am going to sit here on the plane and enjoy my honeymoon, because life is too short to spend with people like you!" With that, Hermione stomped over to her seat, leaving the man speechless as he grumbled past the other passengers to find his seat. The passengers in question were cheering, amazed at the outburst from that woman.

"People are so rude these days," she hissed, buckling her seatbelt. "I'm not very happy with you, either," she spat, swatting Ron's hand away as he tried to touch her arm. Ron threw his hands in the air in surrender, while Hermione crossed her arms and tried to breathe. Ron tried to hold back his grin.

"You do know that, as wizards, we live longer than Muggles do?" he asked her, knowing that she obviously knew. She didn't answer him nor did she bother to acknowledge him in any way, but Ron saw the twitch at the corner of her mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Knock, knock, knock.

The two waited impatiently, but no one came to answer the door. She knocked again.

Knock, knock-knock-knock-knock, knock-knock.

Not a sound could be heard from inside the flat.

Ginny blew some fiery red strands out of her face and knocked harder. The same rhythm, the same door, the same answer. No one was coming out to meet them.

"Ginny, did you ever stop to think that maybe they don't want to be disturbed?" Draco asked, not comfortable with spying on other people. Well, he was, but not when it came to Potter and his private life. Ginny shook her head.

"The only way they'll admit it," she answered, picking the lock with her wand, "is if we catch them. I've worked too hard to not even witness the fruits of my labor." Draco smirked.

"I offered to--" but he stopped, for Ginny had both whacked him on the head and managed to open the door. As Draco rubbed the spot where a lump would possibly form, he stood in the doorway to Potter's flat, flabbergasted at the site.

A hurricane had struck in London, and it had decided to linger around the apartment.

Clothes, furniture, spare trinkets and the like were strewn everywhere. The place was an absolute mess, Draco decided, carefully stepping over dirty laundry. Either Potter had had a jolly good time last night or there was an argument worthy of this explosion.

Knowing Potter, Draco presumed the latter.

Ginny paid no attention to the objects on the floor. Rather, she searched through them, obviously looking for something in particular. Draco sighed as he realized what she was searching for.

"Ginny."

"Draco," she answered back, still looking. Draco shook his head and looked for something to lean on, but decided against it. There's probably dust on everything anyway.

The two of them jumped upon hearing a clatter from the bedroom. Ginny straightened herself up a bit, while Draco just stood there as if nothing was happening. Which, he decided, probably was the case.

Someone stumbled into the living room, and Ginny gasped upon seeing that that someone was Harry.

He looked terrible! It was like he hadn't slept in weeks; dark circles surrounded his eyes, and his five o'clock shadow looked like it had progressed to a ten. His hair was, if possible, messier than usual, and his glasses lay crooked across his face. Ginny immediately ran over to him in a manner reminiscent of Molly Weasley.

"Oh, Harry, what happened? Is everything all right? Is she mad at you?" Draco snorted quietly from his spot, hoping that Harry had the sense to know what was going on.

Harry stared at her as if she was a foreign object. "What are you talking about?" He glanced around the flat, his eyes widening in understanding. "Oh!" Ginny turned ever so slightly to smirk at Draco. Her eyes said I told you so!

"Sorry about the flat," he said, picking up clothes as he spoke. "The Ministry has just been overloading me with work. I wish I could say that I was picking up Ron's side of it, but I can't. It's all me." Ginny simply stood there, her mouth hanging open in shock. That was not a good reason! "I've been doing some overtime, and while the pay is okay, it's wreaking havoc on my sleep."

Ginny turned to Draco, who only smiled as if to say, I told you so. She frowned and averted her attention back to Harry. In that short time, he managed to tidy up the room a bit. A few things were still out of place, though, which Harry corrected with his wand.

"Harry," Ginny started. He stopped what he was doing to face her. "I came here to ask you something. Well, Draco and I--"

"Ginny."

"All right, I came here because I couldn't contain myself," she admitted sourly. "Since I am ALONE in my quest," she stressed, ignoring Draco's eye rolling, "I'll just come out and say it." She cleared her throat. "What became of you and your goal after Ron and Hermione's wedding?" She was met with a strange look of confusion from Harry and snorts of contained laughter from Draco.

She tried again. "Remember what you asked me about?"

"Whether Ron and Hermione would fight on the plane?" Ginny tapped her foot on the floor (coming into contact with a stray gray sock) impatiently.

"No. After they left, you asked me where someone had gone..." she trailed off.

"Neville? Why would you care if I asked about Neville? How does that become a goal?" At Ginny's dumbfounded look Draco burst out laughing.

"Harry, I'm talking about you and Ashley!!!" she exclaimed. Harry joined Draco in laughing while Ginny shook her head.

"I know, Gin, I know," he assured her. He sat down on the couch; Draco and Ginny followed. "Nothing happened. It was all for nothing I guess." Ginny abruptly jumped to her feet.

"What? How can you tell me everything was for nothing?"

"Uh, because it was," Harry elaborated. "There was just no point in us being together." His face darkened. "She's too stubborn."

"Remember, Ginny, two stubborn people don't make a happy couple," Draco stated. Ginny rounded on him, nostrils flaring.

"Well then, I guess we should tell Ron and Hermione to call their whole marriage off, and you and I should stop our relationship, huh?" Draco shut up after that.

She turned back to Harry. She scanned his face, looked into his eyes, and came to a decision. "Liar," was all she said, smirking as she sat down. Harry spluttered indignantly. "English, please."

"Ginny, why would I lie about something you obviously spent all of your free time on? Yes, I know all about your matchmaking. Can't you understand it wasn't meant to be?" Ginny didn't agree.

"Don't you remember what happened in sixth year while you were together?" At Harry's blank look she sighed. "You're more like Ron every day. You had a mark." Draco snorted.

"That's obvious, Ginny." Harry smiled crookedly. Ginny waved him off.

"No, I mean you had a mark on your wrist. I think it was your wrist. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is you had the Mark of Eros."

"I'd read about that, but I can't really remember--"

"The Mark of Eros only appears on a wizard when he is truly in love with someone, and that love is returned." Harry stayed quiet. "The only way to know if her love is unwavering is if she has the Mark of Saden, a sort of flame tattoo on her ankle or back."

Draco leaned forward in his seat, intrigued. "Did she?"

Ginny nodded. "We were talking about our holidays in the girls dormitory. All of us had taken off our shoes and our socks, and I saw it on her ankle. I asked her what it was, and she said she didn't know. We researched it, and she made me promise never to mention it to anyone." She finished her story, adding, "Oops" as an after thought.

"Why weren't you supposed to tell?" Draco asked. Harry didn't bat an eyelash as Ginny answered him.

"She was scared. I really can't tell you why, or else she'd never trust me again."

Harry's head dropped into his hands. The marks. How could he have forgotten about them? The two of them had researched them together! It must have slipped their minds. Well, obviously she knew, he thought. But what was she so scared about.

"The only way to know if her love is unwavering is if she has the Mark of Saden."

"The Mark of Eros only appears on a wizard when he is truly in love with someone, and that love is returned."

"The wizard marked knows for certain that he loves and is loved in return. The witch with the Mark of Saden, however, does not receive this reassurance. The Mark appears at any time the witch falls in love, and appears as a life-like flame when that love is true and unwavering. As it will show regardless whether she is loved in return, the witch will often retreat, afraid of facing the possible truth."

He remembered now.

"She had no way of knowing how I really felt," he said aloud, though it was more to himself than it was to the others. Ginny and Draco stared at him, wondering about his next move.

"Check your wrist, Potter," Draco urged. The other two stared at him, as he had never offered advice to Harry before, other than at the wedding, of course. "If she loves you and you love her, it will most likely show. I doubt it ever went away."

"It's a blue mark, remember that," Ginny advised. Harry rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to check his wrists for any sign of the mark. He pushed his sleeves back down.

"Nothing."

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Here, Ron, let me help you with those."

Surprised, Ron let Hermione take one of the bags he held under his arms. Truth be told, he was starting to lose hold of the lot of them, but with Hermione carrying one or two he thought he could manage.

"Why the sudden act of kindness, love?" he asked, bewildered. Hermione only walked past him, a smile on her face as she made her way to their hotel room. Ron stood still for a moment, listening closely, for he heard a melodious sound from somewhere in the hall. When he placed it, he grinned.

Hermione was humming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ginny and Draco offered to take Harry out on the town, but Harry said no, saying he really needed to spruce the place up a bit. The two of them obliged, understanding that Harry needed some time alone. Draco patted Harry on the back while Ginny gave him a hug before they left. Harry heaved a great sigh and began cleaning up his apartment.

After picking up a few stray items, he found that his energy was shot. He went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee (he had acquired a very small taste to it with a dash of Firewhiskey). He was searching for a clean mug when Hedwig, his Snowy owl, flew in, hooting.

"Hey, Hedwig," he greeted. The owl cocked her head to the side and hooted some more, as if she knew something was wrong.

"What?" he asked when he noticed she was staring at him. The owl said nothing. Harry tried to continue, but found Hedwig's stare unnerving. "Who sent you over here?" he questioned. Hedwig hooted indignantly. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Nothing is wrong," he tried, but Hedwig looked at him in disbelief. Why was she suddenly so perceptive? "I give up," he said, rising out of his chair and making his way to the bedroom for another nap.

There was a burning sensation on his thigh. Irritated, Harry scratched it. Almost immediately the feeling changed from burning to itching, and then all of a sudden it stopped.

Harry frowned.

Strange.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's neck. His flesh burned where she touched him. She grinned at him, sensing the reaction from below.

"Thank you. Thank you for sticking up for me no matter what. Thank you for always being there." Ron smiled back at her, lightly leaning against her. His arms were around her waist, holding her close. His body was crying out for her, and for once would not be denied.

"I love you, Mrs. Weasley."

"I love you, Mr. Weasley."

The night went on beautifully from there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was raining heavily outside, and the irritation on Harry's thigh would not hinder. He rubbed furiously, and it would go away, but a few minutes later it would come right back. He almost pulled his hair from his head in frustration. Hedwig stared at him from her perch in the kitchen. Harry was in the living room, scratching his thigh maniacally.

"Maybe I should check what it is. There must be a charm to stop it," Harry voiced aloud. He frowned, not exactly sure why he thought it might be so. Either way, he pulled down his pant leg and lifted his boxers a bit to see what the problem was.

The Mark of Eros.

It was the same blue mark he had had once before. Now, however, it was a bright blue and stood out adamantly against his white skin. He pulled his pants up and ran to his miniature library (thank Merlin for Hermione) and quickly found information on the Mark.

"Because of the witch's resistance, the two will most likely separate from each other. In time, since they do not sense the love for one another, the Marks will disappear. Once back in the same company, on the other hand, the feelings will awaken, and the Marks return on different areas of the body."

Harry turned the page, eager to read the rest.

"On the wizard, the Mark will appear on his lower body, most likely on the outer thigh or outer leg. The Mark will glow darker or brighter if the love is weaker or stronger respectively. The witch will regain her mark as well, though hers will be on the area only her true love should see. It is this mystery that varies with every woman. She has it set in her mind where her 'secret spot' is."

At that moment there was a knock on the door. Harry almost didn't answer, but he heard Ginny's voice from the other side and obliged.

"Harry, I have to speak to you about something very important. No jokes this time," she pleaded from the hall. Harry almost ran to the door and unlocked it, heart beating fast. What had happened?

Ginny smiled wistfully at him, stepping aside to reveal--

"Think of it as a late Christmas gift," Ginny said. She left abruptly, getting ready to open her umbrella as soon as she stepped out. Harry stood there, speechless.

"Ashley."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ron, we're going to be late for breakfast."

"I'm still having my dessert." Hermione laughed.

"Ron, you pig."

"Oink, oink, love," he replied, kissing her neck and rubbing her thigh.

Someone knocked on their door, interrupting their morning session. "Room service," they heard someone call out. Hermione gave Ron The Look, so he just had to go and put on his robe before answering the door.

Sirius Black strode in just a bit, pushing a cart of food and drink toward Ron. "A little something for the happy couple," he said, tipping his hat and grinning like a child. Ron shook his head and began to chuckle and the 40 odd something man's antics.

Sirius joined in, soon breaking out into full-fledged laughter, his dark hair falling ever so slightly into his eyes. He winked at Ron before he transformed in Snuffles, the shaggy black dog. Ron waved to him as he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What are you doing here?" he queried.

She was standing in his flat, something he never thought she would do ever again. She was soaking wet, which told him she had no umbrella or anything to shield her from the rain. Maybe Ginny's umbrella wasn't big enough for the two of them. He was a bit relieved at that as he went to get her a blanket and some cocoa. She looked rather fetching with her hair down and wet.

"Um, see that's kind of the problem," she said. "I don't really know." Harry nodded, leaning against the doorway, gazing solemnly at her. She pulled on her hair, her eyes closed as she thought. "I don't really know what to say."

"Well, if you don't mind I'm kind of busy getting things in order, so if you could just--" he was closing the door when she touched his shoulder, eyes pleading for him to listen.

"Harry, I understand that you have every right to turn away, but I think it's only fair that you listen to my pathetic excuse, just so I know I had a slim chance," she explained, eyes cast downward. She began to shuffle her feet, which amused Harry. He had never seen her so nervous. He knew that she returned his feelings, but he wondered still...

"Harry, when I was in Italy, I thought that I was doing the right thing. You know how sometimes the right thing feels like the wrong thing? Well, I assumed that was the case, so I just up and left, like you said. But I could not think straight; I could not focus on my work. You were on my mind too often. I found myself comparing the men who passed by me to you. How you would never say this or do that."

"What made you come back now?" he asked, still a bit skeptical.

"You mean besides all of that?" she asked, sarcastic. He shook his head and closed the door in her face. She stood there, shocked and hurt.

"Oh, my God," she voiced, slapping her hand to her forehead. "Oh, my God," she whispered, leaning against the wall. "I've ruined it. Again," she moaned. Maybe everything was a mistake. Maybe this game of cat and mouse had gone on for too long already. Perhaps she had been stubborn for so long that Harry finally decided she wasn't worth it.

She rubbed her hand across her chest. It was warm there still; the mark had appeared only two days before, but it was still warm and fresh. She sighed, amazed she wasn't crying. I think my tear ducts have finally emptied, she thought.

"Well, I guess that's that," she decided, warming up her hands before turning around and leaving. She didn't look back, no matter how much she wanted to.

Had she looked, she would have seen his door open again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She sat in the swing, gently moving back and forth, her head down. She was extremely cold, her hair still wet from the rainstorm. She was catching a head cold, but she didn't care. Her hands were bare and starting to numb as she fingered the necklace Harry had given her for their first Christmas. She swore she'd never take it off.

**

"Ashley, aren't you coming?"

Upon receiving no answer, Hermione took it upon herself to open the door and search for her friend. She found her safe and sound, on her bed, hands over her collarbone. Hermione giggled.

"Auditioning for Snow White, are we?" she teased, quickly grabbing the pillow from under Ashley's head. She hit the bed with an audible THOINK and sat up abruptly.

"Hey!" She grabbed a pillow and flung it at Hermione, striking her in the stomach.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, stumbling onto her bed. She threw the pillow back, laughing. "What are you doing here and in such a strange position? I thought we were going to Hogsmeade." Ashley smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, Hermione, but I've been thinking about a few things..." she admitted, trailing off. Hermione frowned, unaware of what Ashley was speaking of, when all of a sudden she noticed something sparkle near her neck.

"The necklace he gave you," she voiced. "Why are you thinking about it? It's only a gift."

"A gift with fine significance," Ashley argued. She rose and walked over to the window, looking out onto the snow covered grounds. It was the first day of February, also the first Hogsmeade weekend. She could see the boys outside, having their annual Snow War. She smiled as she saw Neville get knocked down on account of a three-way attack.

"Why is it so important to you?" Hermione asked. Ashley turned, unsure if whether she could actually say what she was thinking. Hermione patted the space next to her softly, and Ashley complied, settling herself on the scarlet covers.

"This is the most expensive thing anyone has given me," she said. Hermione nodded, urging her on. "I just... I don't know why things bother me, it's just...I don't know. I guess I feel a little guilty."

"Why on earth do you feel like that?" Hermione questioned, concern evident in her tone. She rubbed her friend's back.

"Harry has a lot on his plate right now. He always has, and I know that. I just wonder--I just wonder if he thinks I'm important enough to be the next dish on his platter, you know what I mean?" Hermione took in all of this information, sighing and sending Ashley a genuine smile.

"Harry doesn't do anything unless he feels strongly about it," she said. She scooted closer to Ashley. "I know for a fact that he must really want this. To tell you the truth, when I found out he liked you I was sure he would say that, no matter what he felt, he couldn't put your life at stake. That he didn't want you to be used against him. The fact that he's gone ahead with this--"

"Shows I'm just one of many."

"No. It shows that he doesn't care about all of that. You make him happy. I don't understand why," she teased. She was rewarded with a smack on the arm.

"I guess."

Hermione grinned. "It's okay if it bothers you, though. I mean, it really is very expensive. It means something."

"I'll never take it off then," Ashley whispered.

**

She fingered the necklace softly. It was still as good as new, the gold plating shining brightly, the white swan on the front as white as the snow on the ground. She opened it, watching as pictures passed by in front of her in quick succession; the locket was charmed to hold what was in the wearer's heart. She saw family, her job, her friends... and Harry. She remembered what it was like to be the girl on his arm, in secret or not.

It was as if a light bulb was lit over her head. That's what bothered me so, she realized. I wanted to keep it a secret. At least, that's what I said. I thought it was what he wanted.

After she had found out about Harry and Cho Chang's public relationship, she practically beat herself over the head with her Charms textbook. If that one didn't bother him, surely this one wouldn't have? Why did she do that? She herself wanted to tell everyone...well, not everyone, but she wanted people to know. She didn't want to have to sneak off to see him in the kitchens or at Honeydukes because she thought someone would attack.

She could hear her sixteen-year-old self now. Oh, I can't believe it. My first boyfriend and no one knew. It was like he was ashamed of me and vice versa. I wish I could change it, do it all over again. Ashley squeezed her hand, the locket almost cutting into her skin.

"You can't just turn back time," she said to herself, opening her palm. The necklace fell out of her overturned hand onto the snow. She let out a frustrated cry before holding her head in her hands.

"My stupid mouth," she whispered harshly, a tear falling off her cheek and onto the swan. "Damn it."

"Is that what you do with all of your presents from friends?"

She looked up quickly. Harry was there, standing beside her, a teasing grin on his face. He occupied the seat next to her, reaching towards her swing to still it. It had begun to snow again.

"I would hardly say it was from a friend," she said bitterly. He hooked his foot around her leg, causing her to swerve his way.

"What's wrong? Why did you leave?" he asked. She looked up, frowning.

"Why did you shut the door in my face?" she shot back. To her surprise, he started to laugh. Not just normal laughter; real, loud, full-fledged laughter.

"Did you honestly think I'd let you in with my clothes on the floor? Merlin, woman, are you mad?" He laughed again.

Despite herself, a smile made it's way onto her face. "You could have told me to wait. I felt mortally wounded," she cried, laughter creeping up her throat as well. It was a while before it died down. The two stayed there, swinging gently against the mild wind blowing. She had a smile on her face, and Harry did too. They both looked down, making prints and shapes in the snow.

"I'm sorry," they said simultaneously. They looked at each other, chuckling nervously.

"I'm serious, though," she began. "I'm sorry about this whole thing. My stubbornness, my pride, my--"

"Stupidity."

"Don't help me."

"Sorry." She then proceeded to tell him what she realized all of this was about. She even went back to how she felt in sixth year when they had to resort to underhanded methods to see each other. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. She buried her head in his chest, once again feeling warm fuzzies in her stomach.

"I only went along because I thought you wanted it that way. I'm sorry," he said. They stayed that way for a while, the snow falling thicker and heavier with each passing minute.

"Can we agree that, from now on, we'll say what we really feel?" she asked, looking up at him. He smiled down at her in return.

"Absolutely." She smiled, resuming her position when he spoke again. "I feel it's quite necessary that I take you out to dinner tomorrow night. She grinned against his coat.

"I'll have to check my schedule, but I think I can fit you in."

"I'm so glad I'm even being considered," he mocked.

"You should be. I won't even try to see Ron or Ginny on my schedule." Harry chuckled.

"Come on then. Let's go back to my flat for some hot chocolate. It's freezing out here!" He started to rise and found he couldn't. Ashley was still cling to him tightly.

"Ashley?"

"Harry?"

"Do you want to stay out her in the snow?"

"No."

"Then?"

"I can't help it. I'm stuck." He froze, trying not to laugh, though he felt his shoulders start to shake.

"What?"

"I think my swing was wet. I can't get out of it. Help me!" Harry could hear her smile through her voice. He just laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hermione Granger-Weasley, come down! It's getting very late! We'll miss the show!" Ron yelled to his wife. She was in the bathroom, preparing for their evening. They were supposed to be headed to a luau, thrown in their honor by Molly Weasley's second cousin. Ron was ready, clad in a Hawaiian shirt he neglected to button up, khaki shorts and sandals. His fiery red hair was starting to grow out again, falling into his eyes. He blew the strands away, frustrated.

"Hermione!"

"All right, Ronald, don't get your boxers in a twist!" she exclaimed, opening the door and coming out. Ron's jaw almost dropped to the floor.

Hermione emerged, her usually curly hair slightly wavy, falling just above the small of her back. She was wearing a greenish-blue bikini and a sarong around her waist that had flowers scattered over it. Her lips were shiny with the cherry lip stain Ginny had bought her for the honeymoon (Ron didn't know) and her cheeks were brightened up with a peach blush (also from Ginny, but Ron didn't know). Her delicate feet were on display in her blue flip-flops.

Ron thought she was dead sexy.

Hermione noticed him ogling her and seemed to blush from head to toe. Interesting thought, Ron thought to himself. I'll investigate it later.

"Ron, I thought you were ready." He rubbed his neck, still staring.

"I had no idea that you would be here," he began. Hermione was confused. That is, until Ron added, "What if my wife finds out?"

She giggled softly. Oh, so he wants to play that game, does he? "Well," Hermione answered, "I don't intend on her finding out that I've touched her husband's pleasure spots, do I?" She sauntered up to him, her hips swaying suggestively, her arms coming up around his neck as she reached him. They slowly made their way down his chest, her nails lightly scratching him. It was all Ron could do not to carry her off to the bed (which was oh so close by) and have his way with her.

"No, I don't think so," he admitted, his voice cracking a bit on the last word. Her hands kept going lower, lower, lower. They encircled around dangerous territory, and Ron was starting to reach his wits end.

"Exactly. She would be very upset if she knew I had touched you here--" she tapped his neck--"here--"she caressed his chest and shoulders--"or this spot--" she rubbed his stomach--"and especially here." She reached down and grabbed Ron's erection. He jumped, pulling her closer. Her hips bucked against his, and he groaned. She started to kiss his jaw line.

"I doubt she'd like that," he whispered, running his hands across her backside. Hermione answered by kissing him soundly on the mouth. Ron grabbed her arms, ready to push her onto the bed, when all of a sudden she pulled away and headed towards the door, fixing her hair a bit.

"We'd better go or we'll be late," she voiced, her face turned away so Ron couldn't see her triumphant smile. Ron just stood there, dumbfounded and maybe a bit randy. He took a few deep breaths, sighing loudly. He made his way to the door, closing it as he followed his wife. She was already downstairs in the lobby, and Ron ran a hand across his stomach, keeping away from his arousal.

"Merlin, that woman drives me crazy."

~~~~~~~~~~

Ron and Hermione made their way to Harry's flat, giggling madly. They were still very touchy feely, and knew they would be that way for a while. Hermione couldn't stop grinning, which Ron said made her look even more beautiful. She kissed him soundly as she knocked on the door.

They were surprised when they received no answer. Ron quickly whipped out his wand and murmured the unlocking charm. He and Hermione immediately stepped inside.

"I don't see him," Hermione whispered frantically. "You don't think he's at work, do you?"

"Nonsense, it's his day off today. You look in the kitchen while I look in the bedroom." Hermione nodded, searching in the kitchen for Harry. She was about to feed Hedwig when she heard Ron yell out for her.

"Hermione!" Hermione ran out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. She wondered what had, but her question was answered quickly.

"I almost had a heart attack! He just jumped out of the bathroom," Ron explained, his hand over his chest. Indeed, Harry was standing there, clad only in a white towel wrapped around his waist, his body and hair dripping wet. He wore a grin on his face, but his eyes were rather shifty. As abruptly as she had noticed it, it stopped, with Harry turning to look at her.

"Well, I guess things were a bit more enjoyable than you thought they would be. You missed Christmas," he said, searching through his drawers for clothes.

Hermione decided to save her queries for later and responded. "Well," she began, a bit flustered, "we were going to come back, but, um, you see, Harry--I, well--"

"Shagging was much more fun than coming back just to go to work," Ron interjected, grinning like a fool. She smacked him hard on the arm, and he winced.

"Ron!"

"Hey, it's an honest answer, Hermione. You're the one who's always saying we should be honest with one another," he argued. She glared.

"Not that honest," she hissed. Harry laughed.

"Can you guys wait in the kitchen? I'm going to change in here," he said, ushering them out. The door closed behind them as they made their way to the kitchen. Hermione volunteered to go and feed Hedwig, while Ron went to the refrigerator to see if there was something he could snack on (of course).

Hermione filled Hedwig's bowel with water, thinking. Harry looked thrilled to see them, she knew. It had been almost a month, after all. They were his best friends, and there was no doubt that he would miss them. That part didn't bother Hermione at all. The part that bothered her was, being Hermione Granger (Weasley-, she reminded herself, -Granger-Weasley), was the part she didn't understand.

There was something in his expression that she could only interpret as the look one gets when being interrupted. He was happy they were back, but he seemed to convey the vibe that it wasn't the perfect time for them to be in his flat, at least not without an advanced notice. Okay, she thought, I've got that part down.

The only question left was why?

She gasped. Had the plan backfired? Without making any sound, Hermione, against all her instincts, started snooping. She, Hermione Granger-Weasley, one of Harry Potter's best friends, war hero, savior of the magical world, arguably the most intelligent witch to grace the halls of Hogwarts since Rowena Ravenclaw, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes herself, was snooping.

But what was she looking for exactly.

I need to find something that shows evidence he's had...female company. Hermione respected all of her friends' privacy, and didn't like resorting to such low levels as snooping. But Harry was so conservative that it was hard to find out how his day was without coming in with thousands of questions.

Upon experience, Hermione knew one couldn't hide everything. There had to be something in that apartment that was clue to either the joys or disasters of Ron and eventually Ginny's plan. A letter, perhaps? Nope, none. Stray clothing that couldn't possibly fit Harry? No, they were all his.

"Hermione, come on! Harry's got loads to tell us!" Hermione sighed, making her way into the living room. Oh, well; she'd just have to be her usual observant self.

A smile graced her face upon seeing Ron and Harry seated on the couch. It was almost as if they were back at Hogwarts, the Golden Trio, always at it. Nothing had changed. As far as things went, they had no troubles. That was the way they wanted it.

Even if that weren't possible, with all the changes that have passed, they would believe it, just for today.

Ron was just regaling them all with the tale of the luau in Hawaii when there was a knock on the door. Harry excused himself to answer it.

"Who is it?"

"The tooth fairy." Harry shook his head as he unlocked the door. Sirius handed him his coat, shaking excess snow off of him like his Animagus form. He grinned.

"Hello all. I trust my little surprise helped you two out," he said, addressing Ron and Hermione. They blushed crimson, nodding. "Good. Care to tell us exactly how it went?" Ron paled. Hermione simply blushed deeper.

The awkwardness was so tense that they couldn't help but laugh.

"Sirius!" Hermione admonished. Sirius only responded with deep, bark-like laughter. Harry and Ron were leaning on the couch for support. Hermione turned to them, her eyes crinkled with laughter when she noticed, out of the corner of her eyes, that something was moving across the countertop. Slowly as if not wanting to disturb them, whatever force it was got a hold of the keys, which were dangling in seemingly mid-air. Hermione narrowed her eyes, not noticed by the others.

The keys floated out of the open door, almost hitting it and jingling. Hermione's eyes widened upon seeing what was on the chain.

A miniature globe.

Hermione knew exactly whom it belonged to.

*Just noticed that the characters, quite often, throw their hands in the air in surrender. Probably to prevent Ron-and-Hermione rows.