Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

Chapter 16 Love and Magic

"No. This is where I have always been coming to. Since my time began. And when I go away from here, this will be the mid-point, to which everything ran, before, and from which everything will run. But now, my love, we are here, we are now, and those other times are running elsewhere."

-A.S. Byatt, Possession

---

Swish.

Hermione heard a log settle in the fire and turned her head, looking back over her shoulder to confirm that the log hadn't fallen onto the floor. A dying fire greeted her, crackling and sending sparks up the chimney from its repositioning. She whispered the incantation to summon her wand. Once armed, she muttered a charm to direct a fresh log perfectly onto the embers. She watched the small flames dance and grow, giving Hermione fresh light to continue with her task.

She dropped her wand on the floor behind her and turned her attention back to Harry, who was sleeping peacefully beside her on the sofa. He was lying on his side, his back against the sofa, his head resting on a pillow propped on the arm of the sofa. He had his left arm under her head and his right hand resting lightly on her hip. She was lying on her side facing him, using his arm as a pillow. Her legs were intertwined with his. It was a struggle to keep her left hand from touching his face, playing with his hair or doing anything at all to wake him up.

She couldn't think of anywhere in the world she would rather be.

In the week they had been together, they fell into the habit of taking afternoon kips on the sofa, snuggled under Harry's wool Gryffindor blanket in front of the fire. In actuality, Harry had gotten into the habit of taking naps; Hermione spent the time watching Harry and reflecting on their time together.

Hermione returned to Harry's house after visiting with Minerva and found him in the parlor, with dinner laid out on a blanket on the floor in front of a crackling fire.

"Wow!" Hermione said, impressed. "What's the occasion?"

Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her lightly. "The occasion is you...being here with me for an entire week."

Hermione looked up at Harry, putting her hand gently on his cheek, and whispered, "Amazing."

"Amazing," Harry repeated, never taking his eyes from hers. They stared at each other for a minute, each letting the meaning of that one simple word sink in, and they both knew without a doubt what it meant. Between the two of them, it meant so much more than its standard definition.

The delicious smell of the food and the grumbling in Hermione's stomach prompted her to break the silence and ask, "Did you make all of this?"

Harry looked at her a bit sheepishly. "Well, actually no. It is takeout from the Three Broomsticks. And I have a minor confession to make."

A small feeling of dread crept into Hermione's heart. "What?" she asked apprehensively.

"The meal I made for you, Neville, and Ginny? That's the only meal I can make. Well, besides an omelet. I can make a mean omelet."

Hermione laughed in relief and hugged Harry tightly. "I reckon I can live with that."

After dinner that night, they made love on the sofa in front of the fire and fell asleep in much the same position they were currently in. Hermione took a chance that Harry was still sound asleep and gently traced her finger down his jaw. She studied his face for the thousandth time, searching for a flaw.

She still hadn't found one.

She had been searching for any defect of Harry's, not just physical, every day for a week. She knew he had them; she remembered that from school. But try as she might, she could not bring one to mind. To be honest, that was a bit of a bother to her logical side. Rationally, she knew that this stage in their relationship would not last forever. They would quarrel, have rows, and struggle to maintain their relationship, as all couples do. Instead of enjoying this time of ignorant bliss, she had begun to use these afternoon kips to obsess a bit over the difficult times they would face in the future and wonder how she would handle the shattered ideal of their perfect relationship.

Sometimes, she hated being Hermione Granger.

When not obsessing about the future, she tried to imagine how and when she was going to tell Harry that she was in love with him. Neither of them had said the words outright, although it was understood that "amazing" was their code word for "I love you." And they had said that to each other plenty over the past six days. But it wasn't the same as "the words." Once you said "the words," they could not be taken back easily. It was a ledge she would gladly step off of, if she could only see the bottom.

Hermione knew that Harry was waiting for her to say "the words" first, as he had waited for her to move the relationship from platonic to romantic. He was patient; she would give him that. She knew it wasn't his fear of her not returning the sentiment if he said it first, although who wouldn't be a bit nervous about that regardless. No. He held back out of respect for her. She knew he didn't want to push her into saying something before she was ready.

I'm still searching for a flaw here.

Harry inhaled deeply, the cue that he was waking up. He shifted a bit, and raised the hand he had on her hip to rub his nose, which was usually a bit bunged up when he first woke up. He ran his hand through his hair and squinted one eye open.

"Hey," he said with a yawn.

"Hey," she said, now free to run her hand through his hair without fear of disturbing him. He smiled and put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"I don't think I have ever woken up from our nap before you."

"Hmmm," Hermione replied.

Harry pulled his head back from her a bit. "You do sleep, don't you?" he asked suspiciously.

Hermione's hand stopped moving but remained entangled in his hair. "Well... no, actually, I don't."

"What?"

"I've never really been able to sleep during the day. I've tried, really I have. I did fall asleep for a bit one day last week after a particularly, um, long lunch," she said.

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "Oh, yes. I remember that lunch! Fondly." He dipped his head down and nuzzled her neck, making her laugh and squirm as always. He pulled his head back abruptly, apparently remembering their original conversation. "I can't believe you just let me sleep. We could have been doing something together."

"No! We are doing something together! Just because I don't sleep doesn't mean I don't enjoy snuggling with you on the sofa."

"It has got to be boring watching me sleep."

"Surprisingly, it isn't. It gives me time to think."

"Good Lord, as if you need more time to think," Harry said sarcastically, and received a light punch in the arm for the comment.

"I'm thinking about you, you git."

"Oh, in that case..." Harry closed his eyes and gave a dramatic snore. Hermione pinched him on the stomach. "Ow!"

"Wake up! I want to see your eyes." Harry complied and opened his eyes, which were dancing with mirth. Hermione placed her hand on his cheek and watched the dancing firelight reflected in his eyes. She was reminded of her parents' garden and the verdant grass she would lie in on warm summer days. The cool of the grass seeped through her clothes to balance out the warmth of the sun shining down on her from above -- perfect equilibrium.

"Harry," she whispered softly. "I love your eyes."

"I love your lips."

"I love you."

Harry's eyes widened slightly and his hand, which had been rubbing her arm, stopped. The silence seemed interminable to Hermione. In actuality, it was only a few seconds before Harry responded.

"Did..." Harry choked on the word and cleared his throat. "Did you mean to say that?" he asked apprehensively.

"Yes." Although I'm not sure this is the response I was anticipating, she thought.

Harry leaned forward and kissed Hermione softly, caressing her check with his thumb. "I love you, too."

Relief washed through her. As he smiled at her, Hermione saw a new dimension to his feelings -- a facet that had been veiled and was now being laid bare. Hermione sensed that he was giving her his soul and that, no matter what happened to them from this moment on, she would never lose his love.

"I've wanted to tell you that for so long. It has been burning a hole in my heart to feel it and not say it." He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and whispered. "Do you know how hard it has been to not say 'I love you' when we're making love?"

Hermione grinned shyly. "Yes. I've an idea."

"Then what took you so long?" he asked, playfully tickling her.

"Oh, you know...the usual. I had to overanalyze it, look at it logically and try to account for any and all potential pitfalls and problems."

"Right. That sounds like a bit of a drag. So can I assume that there were no pitfalls and problems, since you decided to finally say the words?"

"There is only one problem that I can find."

The playful smile dropped from Harry's face.

"And that is that I can't imagine my life without you. I can't remember my life before falling in love with you."

The smile returned to his face, along with an expression of relief. "Technically, those are two problems. Or is one a pitfall and the other a problem?"

Hermione sat up and straddled Harry and began to tickle him playfully. "You are taking the mikey out of me?"

"No!" Harry protested, trying to grab her hands. "I would never do that to the woman I love."

"You better not, if you know what's good for you," she replied, still fighting off Harry's hands from grabbing hers.

Giving up on catching her hands, Harry sat up and said, "Oh, I know what's good for me, Miss Granger." He grabbed her behind the neck and pulled her down into a kiss. Hermione instantly stopped struggling and melted into his body.

She broke from their kiss and quickly sat up, grabbing the blanket that had twisted around him in their struggle and throwing it out of the way. She grasped Harry's upturned face in her hands and whispered, "I love you, Harry," as she settled down on his lap again.

"I love you, Hermione."

She gently pulled his lips to hers and felt the thrilling sensation that only his lips bestowed -- a sensation that she hoped would not diminish with time or familiarity. She slowly ran her tongue across his lips asking for access to explore his mouth, which he gave. A shiver traveled down her spine as she felt his hands venture under her shirt and start stroking her back. Feeling the now familiar humming sensation that only Harry could give her, Hermione wove her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, increasing the intensity of their kiss. She felt more than heard his moan reverberate through her mouth and down her throat, fusing his desire with her own.

She released him from the kiss so she could see the desire she knew would be written on his face. There was something about the naked look of need he wore on his features when they made love that made her feel sublimely feminine and sexy, and tonight was no different.

"I love you, Harry Potter."

"Five words I will never tire of hearing."

"Well, that's good, because you will be hearing them from me for the rest of your life."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Harry came up behind Hermione and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck.

"You look beautiful," he said, looking at their reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"Why, thank you," she said, tilting her head to the side and putting on an earring. "You're looking quite smart yourself. Nice outfit."

"Hermione," Harry replied patiently. "Men don't wear outfits. Men wear clothes."

"Right, then. Nice clothes."

"That's better."

Hermione turned around and encircled his neck with her arms. "Clothes I'm looking forward to taking off of you later tonight," she said, tilting her head up to kiss him.

"Hmm," Harry moaned, returning the kiss, rubbing his hands down her sides and around her back, pulling her closer. "Why wait?"

"Because we are going to be late for Seamus' New Year's Eve party if we get distracted again," she said, through his kisses.

Harry pulled away reluctantly. "Oh, all right. Killjoy."

"It will give you something to look forward to."

"You mean it will distract me all night."

"Semantics."

Harry took her hand and led her out of the loo. "We have a little bit of time. I want to show you something," he said, leading her towards their bedroom.

"Harry, I've already seen it. And I'm duly impressed. You don't have to keep showing me," she teased.

"Ha ha ha," he said sardonically, as he led her to sit down on the edge of the bed. He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss. "I want to give you something," he said.

"Okay," she said slowly.

He reached over and opened the drawer on the bedside table and removed a small box and an envelope tied together with a ribbon. Harry looked at it for a beat, looked up at Hermione with a smile and held it out to her.

She took it hesitantly. "What's this?" she whispered.

"Your other Christmas present."

She looked up at him quickly. "Harry, you didn't have to..."

Harry touched his fingers lightly to her lips. "Before you tell me I didn't have to do it, open the letter."

Hermione removed the box and set it on her lap. She slid the wide red ribbon from the envelope, revealing Harry's name written in the center in beautiful green script. She glanced at Harry, wondering why he wanted her to read a letter addressed to him. He nodded and said, "Go on," with a smile on his face.

Upon closer inspection it was obvious that the envelope was old. She turned it over, revealing a broken red wax seal containing the monogram "JPL." The letters of the monogram registered with Hermione immediately, and she hurriedly pulled the brittle parchment out. She gently unfolded the letter to reveal three pages of parchment filled with the same beautiful green writing. As the importance of what Harry was showing her began to sink in, the room was filled with the beautifully smooth, somewhat husky sound of a woman's voice.

July 31, 1981

Hello Harry,

Today is your first birthday and you just had perhaps the biggest party wizardkind has ever known. But with the Marauders around, that is to be expected. I'm sure Remus will have told and retold the story of your first birthday to you many times. Your father's hair is still blue as I write this. Of course, I know the counter charm, but I want to make him suffer just a bit more. A bit of playful payback for being his favorite pranking target in school!

The fact that you are hearing my voice right now is bittersweet; it means that you are alive and the protections your father and I put on you were successful. But, it also means that James and I did not survive our confrontation with Voldemort.

As I write this letter, my heart swells with pain at the thought of losing you. Don't think that I'm afraid of dying; I am not. I will gladly sacrifice my life to ensure you will have the happy life I see in your future. When you become a parent, you will understand how true the cliché is: I would do anything for my child. No, Harry, my heart breaks with the knowledge that your father and I will not be there to share your happiness. And, Harry, have no doubt that you will be happy.

To understand what is in the attached box, there is something you must know. I am a Seer. I won't go into too much detail--I'm sure you've heard the story from Sirius, Amelia, Remus, or Peter--but I discovered my gift at the end of my first year at Hogwarts. I have been having visions about you, in particular, since I was twelve years old. It wasn't until I fell in love with your father that I realized the boy I was seeing was our son.

Oh how I long to tell you of the wonderful future that I have seen for you! However, one of the very first things that I learned when I discovered my Sight was that knowledge of the future can oftentimes change the outcome, and I don't want anything to endanger the happiness that I have seen in your future. Therefore, I have to be very careful about how I word my thoughts to you.

I am heartened to know that you will have great friendships and know love. I have repeatedly seen visions of you with two children I can only assume are your best friends in school: a tall lanky red-haired boy and a pretty girl with brown hair. I can tell from what I have seen that they are loyal friends. And after I've just told you that I must be careful, I've already divulged some important information. I am going to stop now before I give away too much. Allow me simply to explain how my gift relates to the box.

In the box is my locket -- a gift from my father, your grandfather, Harry. This locket is magically tied to my powers and I would like for you to give it to the woman you love. You'll know when the time is right. Have I seen this woman in my visions? Yes, and it is obvious that she is deeply in love with you, as you are with her.

I have seen you on your wedding day. Oh, Harry, it is astonishing how much you look like your father on our wedding day. You are unbelievably handsome in my vision, and your bride is beautiful and radiant.

I wonder what twists and turns of fate will bring you together; what trials and tribulations you will overcome to be with each other. I once read an old book at Hogwarts about the power of emotions in magic. Love and hate are the two strongest powers in magic and should be treated with a great deal of care and respect. Loving and being loved is so important in life, Harry. Take your time with love; don't rush into anything. You will know, as I did with your father, when you are in love. When that time comes, the love that you share with this woman will bond you together forever.

Your father and I love you very much, Harry. Never forget that.

Mum

Lily's voice melted into silence. Hermione stared down at the letter in her hands, stunned. After living in the magical world for so many years, very few things astonished her. But she would have to admit that hearing the voice of Harry's dead mother was a bit of a shocker. So consumed was Hermione with curiosity about the letter and Harry's reaction to hearing his mum's voice from the grave, that the content of the letter and its implications were driven from her mind.

Hermione looked up at Harry with an awed expression on her face. "Where did you get this? I didn't know you had anything from you parents."

"I didn't know either. I found a trunk in my Gringotts vault when I returned from the States. It was pushed off in a corner, almost hidden from view. It contained what Dumbledore later told me were the possessions they salvaged from the ruins of my parents' house in Godric's Hollow: their wands, a few pictures, some jewelry, things like that. There are some other letters like this one my mum wrote to me." Harry looked down at the letter still in Hermione's hand and smiled. "She had a beautiful voice, didn't she?"

Hermione stared Harry, who was looking at the letter with a wistful expression. "Yes, she did," she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. He looked up at her and smiled, placing his hand over hers.

"Do you want to see what is in the box?"

"I don't know. Is it going to talk to me, too?"

Harry laughed. "I don't think so. It didn't talk to me when I opened it."

"It can talk to me, as long as I'm prepared for it."

"You don't like surprises?"

"I'm rarely surprised."

"Really?" Harry said incredulously. "You looked rather stunned when my Mum's voice floated into the room."

"Okay, that was a surprise."

Harry held the square box, his expression turning serious. "Obviously, this was my mum's. When I found it, and heard the letter, you were the only person I imagined giving it to. I wanted to wait until you were sure about your feelings." He held the box out to Hermione. "I've been sure about my feelings for a long time."

Hermione's curiosity about what was in the box was superceded by the question - How long? - that popped into her mind. A creak, followed by her gasp, sounded as she opened the box.

"Oh my! Harry, it's beautiful!"

Hermione was too entranced by the locket nestled on a pillow of green velvet to see Harry's mixed expression of excitement, relief and pride. She reached down and touched the gold face of the locket, tracing the tripod design engraved there. She pulled it out of the box to look at it more closely, the delicate gold chain trailing behind dangling from her hand.

"This was connected to Lily's powers?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I guess so. I didn't know she was a Seer until I opened this letter."

"Did you ask Dumbledore about it?"

"Yes, but you know Dumbledore. He wasn't very forthcoming with information. He did assure me that the connection was between Mum and the locket and that it wouldn't transfer to whomever I gave it to. So I don't reckon you have to worry about taking Trelawney's job."

Hermione looked up at Harry to see a smirk on his face. "Ha ha ha," she replied sardonically. She held the locket out to Harry. "Put it on me?"

Hermione pulled her hair up away from her neck and turned her back to Harry. She felt his fingers brush her neck lightly as he latched the necklace, sending shivers down her spine. His hands brushed down to rest on her shoulders and his lips lightly touched her neck. "I love you," he whispered in her ear.

She turned to face him. "Thank you, Harry. I love it." She kissed him gently on the lips. "I love you with all my heart."

Hermione felt a warm sensation on her chest and looked down. For a split second, the locket seemed to glow.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

Hermione shook her head, dismissing the glow as a reflection of light. "Nothing." She stood up and walked over to the mirror and smiled at her reflection. The locket rested on her chest just below the hollow of her throat. "It looks beautiful, Harry."

He walked over and stood behind her. "You look beautiful." He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Are you ready to go?"

"I'm ready. Let's go ring in the New Year."

Harry could never recall seeing Diagon Alley so crowded. The atmosphere was that of a street fair, with witches and wizards in various states of dress and states of mind mingling throughout. Some shops had extended their hours and were having end of year offers, attempting to capture in gold the feeling of merriment that the New Year evoked in everyone. Street vendors were walking up and down, calling out their wares, selling everything from drinks to fireworks to sweets. The most popular item seemed to be a wizard's hat with a sparkler attached to the point. Hundreds of sparklers were bobbing and dancing down the alley, sparks drizzling down, raining light onto the gaiety below.

"Wow," Harry said, awed by the sight.

"It's like this every year."

Harry looked down to see Hermione gazing up at him with a smile, her face lit by the raining fire. Just then, a Filibuster Firework was fired into the sky, exploding into thousands of tiny blue fairies. They flew around for a moment, forming the phrase "Happy New Year!" before darting around and dispersing into the crowd. The mischievous sprites then lifted hats from people's heads and dangled them just out of reach. They also lifted the robes of some of the more attractive witches and were generally wreaking havoc on the already disorderly scene.

"I see Fred and George are open for business," Hermione said wryly.

"I reckon so. They're in their element on nights like tonight."

"Yes, they are."

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand tightly as they wove their way through the crowd. Despite the fact that he felt her warm hand securely in his, he looked back often to reassure himself that she was still there, something he had been doing all week. And, defying logic, every time he looked, she was still there -- a fact that made his heart soar a little higher each time.

When space opened up, he pulled her to his side and draped his arm across her shoulders, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "I can't believe you are here with me."

"Well, I didn't have a better offer come along, so why not?"

"That's a roaring endorsement for my company. Thanks for keeping me so well grounded."

"Don't mention it."

They had had a spectacularly normal week. Besides the first day, when they had come to London to buy Hermione a pillow (at Harry's insistence), they had mainly stayed at home, venturing out at night for dinner at the Three Broomsticks a few times. Harry racked his brain to remember what exactly they did. How exactly had they wiled away five days?

The afternoons were easy, that was naptime. Harry was just a bit perturbed that Hermione hadn't been taking naps with him, but if the result of her "thinking time" was her realization that she loved him, he could get over it. The mornings consisted of eating pastries while reading the Daily Prophet. The evenings were spent sitting in front of the fire, talking or reading or playing chess. Mulling it over now, Harry began to worry that it had been a bit mundane -- that Hermione had been bored with their lack of activity.

Oh dear God!

Harry looked up at the nearest shop, to see Madam Malkin's Robes for Every Occasion open for business. "Quick! In here," he said over his shoulder to Hermione, pulling her out of the crowd.

"Harry? What are you doing?"

Harry looked rapidly around the shop, noting that it was somewhat deserted, with only a few customers and a clerk behind the counter ringing up a sale.

"Can I help you?" the witch called out solicitously.

"Nope!" Harry waved with a smile. "Just looking," he called. "Are the robes on offer in the back?"

"Yes, luv."

"Right! Thanks," Harry said, pulling Hermione to the back of the shop.

"Harry, wha...?"

He pushed aside the curtain that enclosed the dressing room and ducked in, pulling Hermione after him. He put his finger over his lips and waved his wand toward the curtain, shielding their conversation from interested ears.

"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I have to ask you something," he said quickly.

"Okay," Hermione said slowly.

Harry opened his mouth to speak and realized how ridiculous he was being. Embarrassment poured down his body; his face burned with it. Hermione was looking at him patiently, her brows furrowing as the silence drew out. "Well, you see, I was just thinking about this past week. And, uh," Harry cleared his throat, "it just seemed kind of dull. Not that I was bored," he added quickly in response to the look on her face. "I was worried that you had been dead bored and were too polite to say anything."

Hermione was silent, her mouth gaping open in astonishment. "Harry, don't be daft. I had a great time this week. Do you think I'm so high maintenance that I have to be entertained 24/7?"

"No! I just thought you might have wanted to do a bit more than we did. I'm sorry I didn't have more planned for us to do."

Hermione's mouth gaped open and her head bobbed forward in disbelief. "Right. First off, I don't think either of us expected to spend the week together, so as to having something planned for us to do, that just doesn't make sense. Second, I had a spectacular time or couldn't you tell? Third, being with you is all the entertainment I need. We don't have to do anything. I would be happy right now if we were back at your house, sitting on the sofa, simply talking. It isn't what we do, love; it's whom we do it with. As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

Keeping his head bowed, Harry looked up at her from under his eyelids. "I feel tremendously foolish."

"Well, you should," Hermione replied playfully. "Honestly! Was I bored?" She shook her head and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, you silly man."

Hermione whipped open the curtain to reveal the clerk, standing there with a shocked expression on her face. Whether it was from being caught directly outside the dressing room or from overhearing their private conversation, neither Harry nor Hermione could guess.

"Sorry. We just needed to have a quick, private conversation," Harry said.

The witch nodded her head vigorously. "Of course, not a problem," she twittered, her shocked expression still evident.

"Happy New Year, then!" Harry said, letting Hermione lead the way out of the shop.

"Yes, Happy New Year," the clerk said distractedly.

"Do you think she heard?" Hermione asked once out on the street.

"I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I did the charm right."

"If not, I guess we will read about it tomorrow morning in the Daily Prophet."

"I guess so."

He shook his head and grabbed her hand again as the crowd pressed in on them. Harry couldn't see Hermione's expression well enough to gauge her feelings. They had not discussed telling people since their conversation on the subject the first day. In light of Hermione's admission of love, Harry assumed that her doubts about their relationship lasting had abated. He, however, was still concerned about the attention that was sure to follow Hermione once their relationship was made public. The thought of it made him want to wrap her in a protective embrace and never let go. He wanted to shelter her from the relentless and unforgiving scrutiny of the general public, as well as remind the intrusive paparazzi that the man in love with Hermione Granger was the same man who vanquished Voldemort.

They made their way to the fringe of the crowd, sticking to the shop fronts where the crowd was thinner. Harry felt Hermione tug his hand to stop and realized they were passing Flourish and Blotts. She was looking at the window display of new arrivals with a rapt longing that made Harry smile. He stood behind her and put his arms around her waist, looking over her shoulder at the books in the window.

"Do you want to go in?"

Hermione sighed. "No. I don't want to carry packages around all night. I'll come back another day."

"But what if all the books are gone? What if someone else has bought the entire contents of the shop and there isn't another magical book left in the world to read? What will you do?"

"You are so funny," Hermione said sarcastically.

Suddenly, Harry was pushed in the back and lurched forward, pushing Hermione against the glass window. Harry heard her muffled "Ow!" as he turned around with his fists clenched.

"Oi! Watch it, you lot!" he yelled at a group of wizards and witches walking past. He turned back to Hermione. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she replied, rubbing her forehead with her hand.

"Did you hurt your head?" Harry asked, gentling moving her hair away to see a small knot forming on her hairline.

"I'll be fine," Hermione replied, throwing a scowl over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to find the guilty group staring at the two of them. He now saw that they were not adults but older teens, snippets of their comments floating toward them through the din.

"That's Professor Potter."

"Who's he with?"

"Whoa! That's our transfiguration teacher," one frantically whispered before melting quickly into the crowd.

"Sorry, Professor Potter. I didn't see you there," replied the boy standing in front of the group. He looked around Harry. "Are you okay, Professor Granger? I'm really sorry about that."

"Yes, Ben. I'll be fine. Are you having a good time?" Hermione said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." The boy named Ben, who Harry didn't know, stood there staring back and forth between the two of them with an embarrassed smile on his face. His friends, the ones who chose to stay, were standing behind him with looks ranging from knowing smirks to shocked comprehension. Harry glanced at Hermione and found her struggling to maintain her blasé composure.

"Happy New Year, Ben. We'll see you at Hogwarts tomorrow."

"Right. Bye Professors. Have a good time tonight."

At this comment, a few of his friends burst into giggles and turned away. Harry turned to Hermione who was sporting a look of chagrin on her face. She leaned against the window of the bookshop, defeated.

"What's the bloody use? We can't keep our relationship secret," she said in a resigned voice.

"Well, we are in the middle of Diagon Alley on New Year's Eve."

"That fact alone does seem to contradict our desire to keep this to ourselves, doesn't it?" Hermione gave Harry a contemplative look. "Oh, sod it all. I don't care." She grabbed Harry by the shirt and pulled him down into a kiss, running her tongue along his lips. Harry, completely forgetting where he was, pulled her to him and kissed her back properly. He heard a humming noise and deepened the kiss, spurred on by Hermione's response. Dancing blue light permeated his eyelids and he realized the humming wasn't coming from Hermione. They broke apart to find dozens of blue fairies flying around their head.

The fairies flew upward, spelling out "Snog Alert" in mid-air with an arrow pointing down at the two. An appreciative cheer went up from the crowd around them, complete with catcalls and shouted congratulations. Harry looked down, expecting to find Hermione burying her head in his chest in embarrassment. Instead, she was looking up at him and grinning.

"I'd say we are definitely making the Daily Prophet tomorrow, wouldn't you?" she quipped.

"Yes, I believe you're right. Are you sure this was a good idea?"

"I guess we'll see."

Harry pulled Hermione's hands to his lips and kissed them. "Come on, let's go."

They came upon a large number of young witches and wizards standing in a long queue, which was snaking around a corner into a side street. They turned into the side street and Harry was astounded to see the queue began at The Green Irishman.

"Do we have to wait in that queue?"

"Don't be daft," Hermione replied, walking up and greeting the wizard at the door.

"Hi, Hermione!" he called, opening the door for her.

"Hi, Ian," she waved, breezing through the open door.

Harry reluctantly followed, catching glimpses of disgruntled people in the queue they had just skirted and hearing a very unhappy murmur run through the crowd.

The door closed behind him and he was stopped dead by the sheer mass of people. Witches and wizards were packed so tightly into the pub that moving through the crowd was going to be a challenge. A roar went up from the crowd in the back of the pub by the dartboards. A group of middle-aged couples, obviously out on the town without their sprogs for the night, were laughing and egging each other on to drink the Flaming Incantations lined up on their table. A group of young men were standing by the door, clearly on the pull. They kept looking over each other's shoulders when the door opened, hoping the next entrant would be the bird they would chat up the rest of the night.

Harry noticed a few people whisper to friends when he and Hermione walked in. He hoped they were commenting on how beautiful Hermione looked and not on the fact that it was he, Harry Potter, that just walked in.

Hermione pulled on his sleeve, drawing his ear down to her mouth. "Look! There's Ginny!" she shouted over the din of voices and music, pointing to the bar. She grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him along in her wake. After almost getting separated, he grabbed her waist with both hands and pulled her close to him, walking in step directly behind her.

He leaned down and whispered suggestively in her ear. "Now, this is a fringe benefit of crowded pubs." He pulled her hips into his and rubbed against her.

She looked over her shoulder with a sly smile. "Right you are, Mr. Potter," she replied, wiggling her hips.

"I wonder if Seamus's guest room is ready for visitors?"

"Hiya!" Ginny interrupted, throwing her arms around Hermione's neck. "We were starting to wonder if you two were coming."

"It's only half nine!" Hermione replied.

"Hi, Neville!"

"Harry! Have a good week?"

"Very good. You?"

"The same. Spent it at the Burrow talking about wedding stuff and gardens."

"You sound like a girl."

"I feel like a girl," he said grinning. He grabbed a couple of drinks from the bar and handed them to Harry and Hermione.

"Thanks." Harry watched Hermione and Ginny chat animatedly about something. Amazingly, Harry couldn't hear a word they were saying, despite the fact they were standing close enough for him to smell Hermione's perfume.

Neville leaned down and yelled in Harry's ear. "Congratulations, by the way."

"For what?"

"You and Hermione! Ginny told me, and Molly, and Fleur, and, well, you know," he replied, waving his hand in the air.

"Oh. Thanks," Harry replied, barely concealing his smile.

"It's about time."

Harry let his grin loose. "You're telling me."

"Is this your coming out party?" Neville asked.

"I guess you could say that. We just saw a bunch of students in the street."

"The rumor mill is already buzzing. I can feel it."

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

Harry took a swig of his ale and watched Hermione. She looked shocked at something Ginny told her and looked around the crowd quickly. She caught his eye and smiled weakly. He leaned toward her. "What's wrong?"

"Viktor's here."

"So?"

Hermione pulled Harry down to talk into his ear. "He doesn't know about us yet, and I would like to tell him personally. Before he hears it from someone else or sees it for himself."

Confusion flooded through Harry. "Why? You weren't a couple."

"I know that, Harry," she said patiently. "But...well, we have had this 'on again, off again' thing for years now. The polite thing would be to tell him personally."

"Right." Harry realized that he didn't know the extent of the relationship Hermione had with Krum. She had been rather dismissive about it, so Harry hadn't given it much thought. The fact that she was so concerned about Krum's potential reaction to their news gave Harry pause. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, that's all right. I'm going to find him."

"Right now?"

"I want to get it over with. I'll be back soon." With that, Hermione turned and disappeared into the crowd.

As soon as she left, Harry felt adrift, as if his compass had failed him. He looked around, trying to spot her or Viktor, but to no avail.

"Where is Hermione off to?" Ginny asked.

"To break the news to Viktor."

Ginny raised her eyebrows and nodded her head while taking a sip of her drink.

Soon the three of them were talking about the wedding and Molly's garden. Harry told them about Hagrid's offer to permanently degnome the garden. Fifteen minutes later, Hermione still hadn't returned and Harry was tired of waiting.

"I'm going to find Hermione," Harry said during a lull in the conversation. He snaked his way through the crowd swiveling his head from side to side.

"Hiya, Harry!" Fiona called as she breezed past, a tray loaded down with drinks held high above her head.

"Hi, Fiona! Have you seen Hermione?"

"About 10 minutes ago. I think over by the loo."

Harry weaved his way through the crowd, aiming for the doorway on the far wall that led to the lavatory. The crowd thinned when he reached the threshold of the hall, and the sight before him stopped Harry dead in his tracks.

Hermione was standing in the hall with Viktor, who had one hand on the wall beside her head and was leaning in close to her, whispering in her ear. Hermione shook her head and laughed, pushing Viktor back playfully. Viktor was laughing, pretending to be injured from her shove. Harry's heart dropped to his stomach as jealousy rolled through him.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Harry called loudly, an edge to his voice.

"Harry!" Hermione said, laughing. "Of course not." She walked over to him and grabbed his hand, smiling. Harry was watching Viktor, whose smile took on a fixed quality.

"Hello, Harry." Viktor said stiffly.

"Viktor," Harry replied tersely, wrapping his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Velcome back."

"Thank you."

"I hear zat you are being recruited to play on ze English national team."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione's brow furrow in confusion.

"I wouldn't call a single owl from Ludo Bagman 'recruiting.'"

"I hope you do play. We haff never played against each other. It vould be fun, no?"

"We have three years until the next World Cup. A lot can change in that amount of time."

"Yes, zis is true," Viktor said with a congenial smile. He looked at Hermione. "So, you haff done in only months vat I haff not been able to do in years -- make Hermione fall in loff vith you."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You seem to be taking it well."

Viktor shrugged his shoulders. "Hermione has been turning me down for years. I vas just too arrogant to admit she didn't loff me."

Harry looked down at Hermione, who was watching him with a puzzled look on her face.

"Congratulations," Viktor said, holding his hand out to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said, taking it reluctantly.

"And now I must go find my date. She is very jealous and vould not like seeing me in a darkened hall vith my ex-girlfriend." He brushed past them with a small smile for Hermione and was gone.

"What was that all about, Harry?"

"What?"

"The English National Team, for one. You didn't tell me Bagman was trying to get you to play."

"He sent me an owl months ago to gauge my interest."

"What did you say?"

"I told him that I would think about it but that I was too busy adjusting to my new job to worry about it at the moment."

"I think you should. I would love to watch you play in the World Cup."

"Really? I thought you didn't like Quidditch."

"I loved watching you and Ron play. Other than that, I'm not fussed."

"The qualifying tournament for it doesn't start for another year, so I have time to consider it. There is no rush. So, what's number two?"

"Two?"

"You said, 'the English National Team, for one.' What's number two?"

"The way you were acting towards Viktor. It was rather rude."

The slight guilt Harry felt at his reaction to Viktor evaporated with Hermione's accusation.

"Rude? I'm rude? I find my girlfriend standing in a dark corner with her ex-boyfriend standing a bit too close and whispering in her ear -- and I'm rude? I thought I showed a tremendous amount of restraint considering my blood was boiling."

"Honestly, Harry! He was leaning so close because it is impossible to hear in all this noise," Hermione said, moving closer to Harry to let someone pass.

"That doesn't mean I have to like it." Harry stepped aside to let another person go by. "I don't even want to think about you being with other people, much less see you with your ex-boyfriend plastered against you."

"You have no reason to be jealous of Viktor."

"I'm jealous of everyone you've dated before."

"You can't be serious. Why?"

"Because they got to spend time with you that I didn't."

Hermione stood on her tiptoes and pulled his ear to her lips. "Yes, but I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you." A tremor ran through Harry, caused by both the words she spoke and her warm breath on his ear.

Harry hugged Hermione tightly. "Are you sure you want to stay? I hear an extremely comfortable sofa calling our name."

Hermione leaned back against his arms, looking up at his face. "I hear a guest room calling our name," she said suggestively, glancing up at the ceiling.

"Even better."

They walked out of the hall, hand in hand, and were met by Seamus. "Hey! I was coming to find you two. Ginny, Neville and a few others are going upstairs to our flat, to get out of the crowd. Go on up and meet them."

"Great!" Harry said. He leaned down to Hermione. "Positive you don't want to go?"

"We'll just go up there for a bit. Then we'll leave discretely."

"Like when we left the Burrow?"

"Something like that. They're our friends. They won't care. They're probably surprised we're even here."

"I'm surprised we're here."

"Are your ears still ringing?"

"A bit."

They were lying in Harry's bed, facing each other and talking quietly. They had ended up staying at Seamus and Fiona's past midnight, much to everyone's astonishment, including their own. About 20-30 people had migrated upstairs in a spur-of-the-moment private party which was much more enjoyable than shouting at each other in the throng of people down below. Once the clock struck midnight, the place magically emptied -- the popping sounds of people apparating joining the din of Filibuster Fireworks in Diagon Alley.

"Did you have a good time?" Harry asked.

"I was with you. What do you think?"

"Me, too." Harry watched his hand slide across the curve of Hermione's hip and down her thigh and back. Hermione had her hands clasped under her pillow and was watching him. "Does this bother you?" he asked softly.

"Hardly."

"Am I staring at you too much?"

"No. I'm used to it now."

"Good," he replied, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "Turn over," he whispered, pulling her hip forward.

Hermione complied, lying on her stomach. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at your birthmark."

"Again?"

"It's dead cute."

"I'm glad you think so."

Harry propped up on his elbow and leaned forward, tracing his fingers down to the small of her back. Just as the curve of her body turned upward again, he stopped and traced the outline of a small brown spot just above her left bum cheek. "It isn't a triangle like I said before. It looks like a drop of chocolate."

"You're just saying that because you're hungry."

"Probably." He leaned down and kissed the mark and Hermione shuddered. "It doesn't taste like chocolate."

"That's good to hear," Hermione said drowsily.

Harry plopped back onto his pillow and shook her shoulder. "Wake up!"

"I'm awake, I'm awake." She opened her eyes. "I don't want to fall asleep."

"Me either."

Hermione turned back onto her side and blew air through her lips, making them flutter. "I can't believe how fast the week went."

"I know."

"It's depressing. Now we have to act like nothing is different; we have to be 'discrete,'" she said, miming quotation marks.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"I have no idea. I reckon it means I can't snog you in the Great Hall."

"No quickies at the Quidditch Pitch?"

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes upward in contemplation. "No trysts in the Transfiguration classroom?"

"Hmm," Harry said thoughtfully. With a snap of his fingers he said, "No rendezvous in the Room of Requirement?"

They broke into a fit of giggles. Harry placed Hermione's hand against his, comparing their sizes, noting again that her fingertips just touched the line of his top knuckle. He intertwined his fingers with hers.

"Oi! I've got an idea!" he said suddenly.

"What?"

"I've lots of gold in my Gringott's vault. Did your parents leave you lots of money?"

"A considerable amount."

"Well, sod the outside world. Let's just stay here in the house, away from everyone else, and live off of our inheritance forever. What do you say?"

"That sounds good to me. But, you know, that would mean no Quidditch."

"Oh," Harry said, despairingly. "I didn't think about that."

"But that's all right. You would give up Quidditch for me, right?"

Harry looked at Hermione's hopeful expression and paused. Her face broke into a grin and she started laughing. "Good lord, I'm kidding. You would think I had just asked you to lop off the family jewels by the look on your face."

"Do you want me to tickle you?"

"No, I really don't," Hermione, replied seriously.

"Then don't talk like that about the family jewels."

"I love your family jewels," Hermione said playing with the locket around her neck.

"Right. That does it." Harry bounded on top of her and held his hands up as if about to tickle her.

"No! Honestly, Harry! Please don't. You know I can't stand it," she said in a pleading voice, holding her hands up in front of her.

Raising one eyebrow, he lowered his hands and lay down beside her. "All right, since you begged."

"I didn't beg."

"Oh, please, Harry!" he said, mimicking her voice. "Don't!"

Hermione began to tickle him in retaliation. "I don't think so, little girl." He grabbed her wrists to stop her. "Peace, okay?"

"Peace."

Harry lay on his back and pulled Hermione to him, pillowing her head on his chest. He watched Hermione fiddle with her locket, something he caught her doing numerous times during the night.

"The locket looks beautiful on you."

"I love it so much."

"I'm glad." He kissed her forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

They lay there in silence for a few moments, Harry considering how to broach a subject that had been on his mind for a while.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

She turned over on her stomach, folded her arms across Harry's chest and propped her chin in her hands. "Course."

Harry ran his hand through her hair absently as his courage failed him.

"Never mind."

"Oh no you don't. I want us to have a relationship where we can ask each other anything and tell each other everything. Out with it."

Harry opened his mouth, but the words just wouldn't come out. He sighed and laughed. "I just can't."

"Let me guess, then."

"All right," Harry said, confident that she had no idea what he was going to ask.

"You want to know if I ever slept with Viktor."

When will you learn that she is smarter than you? Ron's voice chided.

"Am I that transparent?"

"Only to me. To everyone else you are a multifaceted man."

Harry grunted in response, hoping Hermione would answer the question she had asked for him without him having to say the words.

"Do you really want to know my sexual history?"

"If it is complex enough to be called a 'history,' then probably not."

"It isn't complex," she said, turning on her back returning her head to Harry's shoulder. "Yes, I slept with Viktor."

"Was he your first?"

A pause. Hermione quietly replied. "No."

Harry then knew without asking that her first had been Ron. He wondered for a moment if he would have rather not had his suspicion on the subject confirmed.

"That bothers you, doesn't it?"

"I know it shouldn't, but it does a little."

"Which is why I didn't want to tell you."

"Then why did you?"

"Because you asked, and I'm not going to lie to you or keep anything from you."

Both of them stared at the ceiling of the darkened room. Harry stroked Hermione's arm.

"Does it bother you because you know both of them?"

"I guess Viktor bothers me because I'm going to be running into him for the rest of my life and wondering if he is looking at you imagining you naked."

Hermione laughed. "I don't know if I would worry about that. It was very dark. I don't know how much he actually saw. Anyway, it wasn't good enough for him to harbor lingering fantasies about it, I'm sure."

"Why do you say that?'

"Well, I'm afraid I used Viktor a little bit. I was having a very difficult time. I guess it was about two years after you left. Guilt over Ron, anger at you for leaving, the stress of two jobs -- it all got to be too much for me. I was desperate to get past it all. Viktor was so good during that time, very supportive and understanding. He never pressured me to take our relationship further than casual dating, but he made it clear that he loved me and had loved me for a long time.

"Afterward, I knew it was a mistake. No matter how much I cared for him, I didn't love him and I couldn't have that type of relationship with someone I wasn't in love with. Good God. That was a horrible conversation, let me tell you. It's amazing we're still friends. I got the impression that he has been holding out hope that I would change my mind...until tonight.

"I decided after that fiasco to wait until I was absolutely sure I was in love." She ran her fingers along Harry's chest, tracing the outline of his muscles. "Of course, I thought I was in love with Ron."

"You've never told me how you realized you weren't."

"I loved Ron without a doubt. But I mistook an adolescent crush along with raging hormones for true love. To be fair, he did, too. The first time was utterly forgettable -- very awkward but sweet. I don't think either of us was very impressed. I thought it would get better once we got a bit more experience. It didn't for me; I'm not sure about him. It began feeling a bit incestuous. That is when I knew that what I felt for Ron was not romantic love."

"So how does this feel?" Harry whispered.

Hermione tilted her head back to look at him. "Perfect." Harry bent down and softly kissed her lips.

"No," Hermione said.

"No, what?"

"You were about to ask me if I wanted to know about your sexual history, and I don't."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, amazed that she again read his mind. "Why not?"

"I would rather delude myself into thinking I'm the only one you have ever been with."

"In a way you are." Hermione looked up at him, confused. "I was always thinking about you."

A smile spread across Hermione's face as she rolled on top of him. "With a line like that, you'll get lucky every time."

"Hello, Hermione."

Hermione bolted upright in bed, groping for her wand and looking around frantically for the source of the voice she just heard. She gasped when her eyes settled on a shadowed figure sitting nonchalantly on the dresser. She grabbed the sheet and pulled it up, covering her exposed breasts. Grasping the sheet in one hand and pointing her wand at the intruder with the other, she looked over at Harry to find him on his stomach, in a deep sleep.

"You're asleep, too," the voice said, bemused.

Hermione's eyes darted back to the figure, which was walking toward the bed. Hermione gripped her wand tighter, a long list of hexes running through her brain. As the person came closer, the light from the window bathed her in moonlight, revealing her to be a young woman with long red hair and startling green eyes.

"Lily?" Hermione said in amazement.

"Yes, I'm a bit shocked to be here, too."

"Here? Where is here? You said I was dreaming."

"You are."

"But there is no here or there in dreams. It is all in your mind."

"Surely after all Harry went through in his younger years, you know that there is much more to dreams than the workings of the subconscious."

Hermione was stumped into silence. She knew from a theoretical standpoint that dreams were a portal into another world, but theory and reality were two different things.

"You're having a hard time with this, aren't you? That's all right. Take your time." Lily walked around the bed and stood looking down at Harry. "He is handsome, isn't he? He looks so much like James," she whispered.

Hermione became acutely aware that, dream or not, she was lying in bed naked with her boyfriend's mother in the same room. She pulled the sheet a bit closer to herself and shifted back in the bed, resting her back against the headboard.

"Don't be embarrassed, Hermione. I've seen it all."

"You've seen...?" Hermione gasped, images of spirits peering down from heaven watching Harry and her make love caused her to cringe.

"Oh, no! Not technically," Lily laughed. "You do take everything literally, don't you? Just like me, I guess."

Lily walked around to Hermione's side of the bed and sat down at her feet. Reflexively, Hermione moved her feet to allow room, but realized when she felt no weight on the bed that this gesture was unnecessary.

"So," said Lily.

Hermione looked at her, eyebrows raised in question. "So?"

"You called me here. I assume you have something you want to talk about."

"I called you here? No, I don't think so. How could I do that?"

Lily made a small gesture with her head, and Hermione looked down at the locket resting on her bare chest. "Oh!" In the shock of seeing Harry's mother, she had completely forgotten about the locket around her neck and the fact that it had magical powers tied to it.

"But Dumbledore told Harry that the locket was tied to you and wouldn't effect anyone else."

"Yes, he did. As I said, I'm not sure how this has happened. It is tied to me. My guess is the particular power the locket had in my possession would not reveal itself in your possession. Apparently, this locket has more secrets than we realized."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Does this mean you are going to haunt my dreams?"

"Like Harry's eyes?" Lily said with mirth.

Hermione gasped and Lily laughed. "You know, now I see the appeal James saw in winding me up all those years. Relax, Hermione. I'm dead. I'm not judging you. In fact, I like you very, very much." Lily patted Hermione's knee and somehow, Hermione felt the warmth of her hand.

"In answer to your question, no, I am not going to haunt your dreams. And I have to say, that was a very good line you used on my son. Sirius in particular thought it rather poetic."

Hermione groaned and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the headboard. She hadn't even considered that there was a group of spirits watching her every interaction with Harry. She only hoped her parents weren't part and parcel to the proceedings. She couldn't bear the thought of that.

"I have an idea about why you called me here. Would you like to hear it?"

"As long as it has nothing to do with our sex life, yes."

Lily laughed, a deep throaty sound that warmed Hermione. After a moment, the laughter died and her expression turned serious. "You are wondering if it was you I saw in my visions, aren't you?"

Hermione's mouth opened in astonishment. That was exactly it, although the realization didn't hit Hermione until the words floated from Lily's mouth. The idea that Harry was wrong about Hermione and that Lily had seen someone else in Harry's future had been nesting in a small part of her brain.

"I guess I am," Hermione replied.

Lily nodded, taking Hermione's measure. "What do you think?"

"I have no idea. I didn't have the vision."

"You don't believe in the inner eye. Why would it matter if it was or wasn't you?"

"I..." Hermione stopped, trying to find a polite way to agree and still get the answer to her question.

"Don't worry, you aren't going to insult me. I was very skeptical, as well, in the beginning. I read every book I could find on it, believe me."

"I read the book you mentioned in your letter, about the connection between love and magic."

"Did you?"

"Years ago."

"You are a clever girl, Hermione. You never answered my question."

Hermione couldn't remember the question.

"What do you think?" Lily repeated patiently.

Hermione looked over at Harry, his face unlined and relaxed in sleep. "I want it to be me," she whispered, running her fingers softly through his hair.

"You make him very happy, you know."

Hermione looked up at Lily, tears clouding her vision, making Lily look less solid. "I hope so."

"He isn't perfect, Hermione. You'll go through very rough times. All people that love each other do. But your love, the connection you have, will get you through it. Trust me on that."

Hermione nodded her head and sniffed loudly, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I should go now. You need your sleep. The students return tomorrow."

"Don't remind me," Hermione said wryly. "Should I tell Harry about our conversation? This connection?"

Lily shrugged her shoulders. "If you'd like."

"If Harry wore the necklace, would he be able to talk to you?"

"I don't know," she replied, looking at Harry wistfully. "He has finally found a bit of peace. I don't know that he needs us anymore." She looked up at Hermione. "He has you."

Hermione's eyes became heavy with sleep. She forced them open and said groggily. "You never really answered the question, if it was I you saw in the vision."

Lily glided closer to Hermione and bent down, her face mere inches from Hermione's. "You answered the question yourself," and Hermione fell into a deep, green pool of sleep.

---