Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

Chapter 17 Notes and Letters

"You left me a note?"

Hermione's joy at seeing Harry evaporated in the face of his anger as he brushed past her into her room.

"I wake up this morning, expecting to feel you when I reach across the bed, but instead of a warm body, I get a bloody paper cut!" He yelled the last three words, holding up his index finger, donned with a fresh plaster.

"I just thought that..."

"I know what you thought," he interrupted, shaking the note at her. He snapped it out and pulled it to his face and began reading.

Dear Harry,

I just can't bear the thought of saying goodbye to you, even if it is only "See you later today." The thought of not spending every minute with you is more than I can take.

To spare us an emotionally overwrought parting scene, I am returning to the castle while you sleep. Please come to the castle as soon as you wake up so we can have breakfast together. I miss you already.

I love you,

Hermione

"Did you honestly think this would be better?"

"Harry, I..."

"Did you even stop to think about how I would feel when I was expecting you to be there?"

"I don't think..."

"Too right! You didn't think!"

"Now, wait just a minute! You are overreacting just a bit, here."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. I only left your house an hour ago."

"It isn't about you leaving, it's about how you left. This," he shook the note, "was a rather cowardly thing to do."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I guess you are the expert on leaving inadequate notes, aren't you?" Hermione replied scathingly.

At that statement, all of Harry's righteous indignation seemed to deflate from him and his shoulders drooped as a result. He looked down at the floor and Hermione was filled with a mixture of shame and residual anger at him for the things he had just said to her.

"Is that why you did it? To get back at me?" he asked quietly.

"NO!" Hermione replied quickly. "I swear, Harry. I don't know why I just said that. It just slipped out."

"I thought we were past that."

Hermione opened her mouth to automatically reassure Harry, then stopped, choosing her words carefully. "We are past it, Harry. But I'll be honest with you. Part of me is still angry at the years we lost, especially after spending the last week with you. But if you hadn't gone away, who can say that we would have fallen in love? It is part of our history, part of how and why we are standing here today. It will never leave us completely." She walked a step closer to him. "I shouldn't have thrown it in your face. I'm sorry."

She placed her hand on his cheek, felt the stubble of his beard, and noticed his disheveled appearance for the first time. "I left before you woke up because I knew that I would be a blubbering idiot if I left when you were awake. I took the easy way out because I was embarrassed with my tenuous grasp on my emotions. There was no conscious or subconscious agenda on my part to 'get back at you.' The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head in her shoulder. "I'm sorry I overreacted. I was so upset when you weren't there. I'm used to you being beside me. I'm not ready for that to end."

"Me neither." With those two words Hermione saw relief wash over Harry and she understood. The cause of Harry's overreaction wasn't the note or even the fact that she was gone when he woke up. Hiding beneath the outer defenses of Harry's personality, lived the boy who spent the majority of his childhood with people that didn't love him -- people that told him at every opportunity that he was worthless and a burden. She felt a pang of guilt that perhaps she hadn't done all she could over the last week to reassure Harry that she loved him -- that he was indeed worthy of being loved.

She framed his face with her hands. "Harry," she whispered, gently kissing him on the lips. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise.

A sheepish look crossed Harry's face. "You're wondering right now what life is going to be like having to constantly reassure me that you love me, aren't you?"

"No. You'll probably get sick of hearing me say it over and over again before I ever tire of saying it."

"I doubt that."

She ran her hand through his hair and smiled up at him. "I've been dreading being separated from you since the first morning we were together."

Her admission was rewarded with a broad grin. "So what are we going to do about it?" He pulled her closer and began placing dramatic, smacking kisses on her neck.

"I don't know," she said, giggling at the playful air bubbles he was blowing on her neck. "If you lived in the castle it would be much easier, you know."

"It might be a little obvious if I requested a room now, considering the circumstances."

"I agree. And as a resident professor, I'm on call all the time. I can't sneak off to your house."

He lifted his head from her neck. "Then I'll just have to sneak up here. How thick are these walls, anyway?" he asked looking around thoughtfully.

"I'm sure we can find a charm to make them soundproof if need be."

"Problem solved," Harry said, lightly touching his lips to Hermione's. "I'm really sorry for the way I acted. Forgive me?"

"Of course."

"Hem-hem."

Hermione and Harry both started as the sound of a third person's voice filled the room. Hermione looked over to the fireplace to see Remus Lupin's head in the flames, a chagrined look on his face.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Hermione."

"Remus! You aren't interrupting anything," Hermione said, pulling away and walking over to kneel in front of the fire. "We were just talking."

"Hi, Remus," Harry said with a wave.

"Harry. Sorry I missed you two when you were in London last week."

"I'm sorry we didn't stay around to see you. We were just there for a few hours."

"Did you need something, Remus?" Hermione asked.

"I was wondering if I might be able to come to Hogwarts tonight and meet with you. There have been some new developments with the Ministry and the ABMB that I wanted to talk to you about in person."

"What developments?" Hermione asked warily.

"Nothing sinister, I assure you. What would be a good time?"

"How about 6:00?"

"Excellent." Remus looked from Hermione to Harry and said with a smile. "I understand that congratulations are in order."

Hermione laughed. "I guess so. Did you hear it from Molly?"

The smile slid a bit from Remus' face. "No. Have you not seen the Daily Prophet today?"

"No. Did we make the paper?" Hermione asked with a chuckle.

"You could say that," Remus said quickly. "Well, see you tonight then. Bye, Harry!"

"Bye, Remus!" and with a pop, Hermione's fire returned to its normal state.

Hermione stood up and turned to Harry, a concerned look on her face. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I just wonder what Remus needs to talk to me about. He has never come here personally, everything I do can be handled by floo or owl." She shook her head and looked up to Harry with a smile. "Ready for breakfast?"

They walked into a Great Hall that was deserted save for the head table. Harry could tell from the reaction of the teachers present that Minerva had not told anyone of the change in their relationship, and the Daily Prophet had not been delivered yet.

They sat down beside Neville and began filling their plates with food. Harry watched Hermione pile eggs, bacon, potatoes and toast on her plate. She was pouring a glass of pumpkin juice when he caught her eye.

"I've never seen you eat that much in my life."

She leaned closer to him and whispered. "I must confess, I have missed the castle food this past week."

Harry feigned shock. "Me, too," he replied, filling his plate as well. "I have a feeling we will be in for a case of serious malnourishment if we ever have to rely on our cooking skills to survive."

"Too right."

Their toast had scarcely been buttered before the owl post swooped through the high windows of the Great Hall. A newspaper was dropped in front of a handful of teachers, including Hermione. Hermione placed a knut in the leather pouch as Harry grabbed the paper and scanned the front page. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

The entire front page was covered with a picture of the two of them from the night before, standing in front of Flourish and Blotts snogging. The banner headline read "Friends and Lovers." Hermione gasped when she saw the picture, which was presently showing them laughing while watching the fairies write "Snog Alert" above their heads.

"Bloody hell," she whispered.

Harry opened the paper to find six pages dedicated to them -- articles on their history, pictures of Harry from the Triwizard Tournament, pictures of the two of them at Ron's funeral, a picture of Hermione giving a lecture for the ABMB, and a report on speculations from "a source close to the couple" on their relationship.

Harry felt his face begin to burn and anger well up inside him with a force he hadn't felt in years. He clutched his hands around the paper, as if squeezing it would destroy the images and words staring back up at him. He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to scream in frustration.

Is this what my life is going to be like? Am I ever going to be able to have something of my own, something unspoiled by people who don't know me? Why can't everyone just leave me alone?

He felt Hermione's hand on his, and he instantly relaxed. "Harry, calm down," she said soothingly. "I can tell this is upsetting you. Don't let it."

"Look at what they've done!" he said in a low growl. "They've plastered our life all over the paper. They've taken away our privacy!"

"Harry," Hermione continued, in the same aggravatingly smooth voice. "Everything they have is old news. They have just pulled up past articles about us and updated them a bit. There is nothing new here."

"Nothing new?" Harry said incredulously, closing the paper to reveal the picture on the front page. "What do you call this?"

"I call that someone getting a lot of money for being lucky enough to have a camera last night. They have that picture and a few people saying they saw us." Hermione looked him in the eyes with an almost stern expression. She leaned forward and lowered her voice even more. "They have nothing personal about us, and they never will. There is much more to our relationship than people seeing us snogging in Diagon Alley. I understand that this has upset you, but we can't let it show. If we do, then they win."

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to find Professor Sprout standing there with a huge smile on her face. "I am so happy for the two of you!" she said, and to Harry's surprise, she kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," Hermione said warmly.

"I think it is repulsive how the paper plastered you on the front cover like that. As if a couple kissing on New Year's Eve is front-page news. Hrumph! Must be a slow news day, I say." She patted Harry on the shoulder. "Don't let them get you down, Harry."

Harry watched Professor Sprout walk out of the hall and turned his attention to the other teachers at the table. A few were staring at them, others continued eating and were reading other sections of the paper, seemingly ignoring the story about them. His eyes settled on Snape, who was staring at Hermione with a startled look on his face. Hermione, looking at the paper and playing with her locket while munching on a piece of toast, was oblivious to Snape's gaze. Harry looked from Hermione to Snape and caught his eye. For a split second, Harry saw a pained expression there before Snape quickly replaced the mask of scorn he wore so well. Snape then abruptly rose from his chair and strode from the hall.

Breakfast continued without incident, punctuated by teachers stopping by and giving their well wishes and support. As they were readying themselves to leave, Hermione pulled Harry over to talk to Minerva.

"Minerva, we are so sorry. We thought something might be in the paper after going out in public last night. Obviously, we didn't expect this." She gestured toward the picture on the front page.

"It seems you took my advice to the extreme."

Hermione looked sheepish. "Maybe just a bit."

"You remember our conversation, then. I'm sure you have related it to Harry, but just in case anything got lost in translation I will tell you both. I expect you to behave in a manner befitting Hogwarts' professors, here and in public. Anything you do will reflect on this institution. I don't expect you to pretend that you aren't in a relationship, but discretion and decorum is key. You are both intelligent and I have complete trust in your abilities to handle yourselves appropriately."

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison, Harry feeling acutely like a 12 year old being punished for being out after hours.

Minerva held open the paper she had tucked under her arm and looked at the front page, her mouth drawn precisely in a straight line. She looked over her square spectacles at them and struggled to restrain a smile. "That is quite some kiss, Miss Granger," she said, walking out of the hall.

Harry walked rapidly down the deserted corridor, anxious to see Hermione. It had been 12 hours since he had seen her last, the longest 12 hours of his life. He slowed his pace upon hearing voices and saw the Head Girl and Boy round the corner, talking animatedly about their holidays. Harry stood stock still by a suit of armor, hidden by his invisibility cloak, and waited for the two to pass.

At least they aren't talking about Hermione and me.

Once they had turned the corner and their voices had died out, he began again, almost running in his haste to hold Hermione once more. Numerous times during the day he had caught himself staring off into space for minutes at a time, thinking about Hermione, each time a large smile plastered on his face. He was sure he looked like an idiot, but he didn't particularly care.

He was in love.

More amazing than that, Hermione loved him.

He felt a deep sense of satisfaction because of it. The decision to return to England, which he had agonized over for years, was finally validated. He had finally gotten the girl that he had wanted for seven years. He was loved. The happiness he had been searching his entire life for was within his grasp.

That was the easy part. The trick is to not mess it up.

Keeping his invisibility cloak on, he knocked softly on Hermione's door.

"It's me," he whispered when she opened the door.

She stepped back and held the door open wider for him to enter. Before she had turned around from closing the door, Harry had thrown the cloak off and gathered her in his arms, frantically kissing the back of her neck, tantalizingly exposed by virtue of her hair being piled messily on top of her head, held together with a clip.

"Tell me you missed me as much as I missed you," he said hoarsely, his body reacting to the feel of her pressed against him.

She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his head, playing with his hair. "Why don't I show you, instead?"

"Even better."

She turned around to face him, pressing her body to his and kissing him forcefully. Harry moaned in pleasure as she wrapped one leg around him and pulled him to her. He felt the warm, smooth skin of her back as his hands traveled up her shirt to unclasp her bra. He felt her hands slide along the muscles of his back, her touch sending tremors of pleasure through his body.

"I've been daydreaming about you all day," he murmured.

Hermione stopped her hands' exploration and dropped her leg to the floor, a dazed look on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked puzzled.

"I completely forgot to tell you," she said.

"Tell me what?"

"I had a dream last night."

Harry gave her a lopsided smile. "Was I in this dream?"

"No, your mother was."

"My mum?"

"Odd. I know."

"Not that odd, really. You just heard her voice reading a letter to me and I gave you something of hers. I'm sure she was on your mind on a subconscious level. But what does that have to do with this?" He asked, gesturing between the two of them.

"I got the distinct impression that they...watch us," Hermione said with embarrassment.

"They? They who?"

"Your mum, dad, Sirius."

Harry's brain, which only minutes before had been muddled with desire, cleared as he finally comprehended why Hermione was embarrassed. He tried to keep the humor out of his voice. "Oh, they watch us make love," he said sagely. "Right, so you are embarrassed because you think we have a heavenly audience watching and critiquing our every move."

Hermione's face turned a shade of red that Harry was quite sure he had never seen before, especially from practical, logical Hermione.

He put his arms around her waist. "Sweetheart, it was just a dream. There is no one watching us, and so what if they are? I'm certain they are just jealous, living vicariously through us and all that," he finished with a smirk.

Hermione tried to suppress a smile. "You are taking the piss, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not. I've told you I would never laugh at the woman I love." He bent his head down, but kept his eyes on Hermione, trying and failing to keep his good-natured laughter from bursting forth. After a minute, he wiped tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.

Hermione was standing with her arms crossed protectively over her chest looking none too pleased at his outburst.

"Does this mean we will never make love again?" Harry asked innocently.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond as Harry slid his hands up the back of her blouse and gently rubbed her back. "Because, if so, I'm really going to miss seeing that look you get," Harry said.

"What look?"

"The one where you bite your lower lip and close your eyes when I do this." Hermione jumped slightly and dropped her arms. "That look," Harry whispered, kissing her jaw.

"I'm also going to miss the sound you make when I do this," he said softly into her ear, just before a squeak escaped her throat. "And that humming noise you make," he said hoarsely. "The sound I kept hearing over and over in my head today."

He looked her in the eyes as he began to unbutton her top. "But I understand if you want to stop making love because of a dream. Dreams are very powerful. After all, it was my dreams about you that made me come back. It was the slim chance that they might come true that brought me back to Hogwarts."

"Your powers of persuasion are very impressive, Mr. Potter," Hermione said as she lifted his shirt over his head. Harry closed his eyes as her fingers scratched lightly down his chest.

"It's a cause I believe in," he mumbled.

"That's obvious," Hermione said with a smirk.

Harry lifted Hermione from the ground and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He then carried her to the bed where he laid her down and kissed her tenderly.

"How thick are these walls again?" he asked, kissing down her neck.

"That's all taken care of."

Her looked down at her with a smirk. "My, my, aren't we sure of ourselves?"

"Very."

"This bed is a bit small for two people, isn't it?" Harry said as he squirmed toward the middle of the bed.

"Just a bit."

Hermione was on her side, her body draped halfway over Harry's. Her head was pillowed in the crook of his arm and shoulder, his hand gently stroking up and down her arm. Her legs were intertwined with his in an attempt to keep from falling off the bed.

"If this is the position we have to be in to make it work, I guess I can't complain," Harry said, wrapping his arms tighter around her and kissing her on the forehead. "How was your meeting with Remus?"

"A bit shocking, truth be told."

"Why?"

"It wasn't just Remus. Amelia Bones was there, too."

"The Minister of Magic? Why?"

"It seems that the Ministry of Magic has decided that the work the ABMB is doing is worthy of a Ministry department."

"Really?" Harry said with interest. "What does that mean for ABMB?"

"We will turn into more of a watchdog group. The Ministry wants the education and training aspect to be under their control -- set policies, pass laws protecting Magical Brethren rather than oppressing or regulating them."

Harry pulled his head back as far as the bed would allow to look at Hermione. "This means that all of your work for the past five years has paid off! The magical world is accepting them as equals."

"We still have a long way to go. But it is the biggest sign to date that we are making progress."

"Who would have ever thought that SPEW would be so successful?"

"Honestly! It wasn't 'SPEW,' Harry," Hermione said, rolling her eyes and tracing her fingers along Harry's hipbone and down his thigh, distracting him somewhat. "There's more."

"That tickles," he said.

"It isn't supposed to hurt."

"Oh. Then mission accomplished. What else?"

"They want me to head the department."

"She offered you a job at the Ministry?"

"Yes."

Harry looked down at Hermione and saw a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. He could almost feel the gears in her mind churning with ideas and lists of things to do.

"What did you say?"

"That I needed to think about it."

"Why? I can see in your eyes that you want the job."

"Of course I want it. But it seemed like something I should at least pretend to think about. It is a major career move after all."

"What did Remus think?"

"He was the one that recommended me for the job. Dumbledore has been pushing for a ministry department like this for years. Once Amelia agreed, her initial choice for the department head was Remus. Considering they were classmates at Hogwarts, that isn't a surprise. But he doesn't want the job. Says he is too old for the bureaucracy. He would rather be the watchdog."

"When would you start?"

"They understand about my responsibilities here and know how difficult it will be to find a Transfiguration Professor. They can wait until term ends, if need be."

Harry felt Hermione's hand rub large looping circles over his chest, travel down his hip and back up. "Are you trying to end this conversation?"

"No, why?" Hermione asked puzzled.

"Because if you keep doing that, I'll be incoherent in about ten seconds."

"Oh, sorry," she said, resting her hand on his hip. "So, what do you think?"

"I'm thinking you shouldn't have stopped what you were doing."

"About the job offer, silly!"

"Right." He tapped his forehead with his hand. "Focus, Harry, focus! Okay, job offer. What do I think? I think you should do what you want to do."

"You don't have an opinion at all?"

"What if my opinion was to not take the job?"

"Is that your opinion?" she asked, sitting up to look at him.

Harry brushed her hair out of her face and rubbed his hand down her arm. "No. It's your decision, Hermione. Not mine."

"It affects you."

"Does it?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows.

"Of course it does. Just as any decision you make about your future would affect me."

Harry smiled and pulled her body down on top of his. "I guess there would be quite a few perks being married to the Minister of Magic."

"Minister of Magic? Harry, they didn't..." Hermione's words trailed off and she looked at Harry with wide eyes. "Did you just say married?"

"Did I?" Harry asked innocently.

Hermione nodded her head, her mouth gaping open slightly.

"Surely that isn't a surprise to you, is it?"

"No, it just seems..." Hermione stopped as if searching for words.

"Too soon?" Harry finished, holding her eyes with his.

"No," she whispered. "Too good to be true."

"What does? Being married to me? Or being the Minister of Magic?" Harry said, teasingly.

"I've always wanted to be the Minister of Magic. I haven't always wanted to be married to you," she rejoined with a grin.

"Ouch! You really know how to cut a man down," Harry said tickling her. She squirmed, trying to escape his grasp, and his body reacted immediately. "Stop!" he said abruptly.

"Why?" Hermione asked in confusion.

In answer, he placed his hands on her hips and moved her down his body. He swallowed and closed his eyes, trying to control the urge to ravish her until he finished telling her what he needed her to know.

"Hermione, I want to marry you," he said, looking into her desire-filled eyes. "This isn't a proposal -- not yet. But it is a promise."

Hermione placed her hands on either side of Harry's head while she hovered over him, her hair falling in curtains around them, secluding them from the world. She teasingly nipped his lips. "Since it isn't a proposal," she whispered between nips, "I reckon saying 'yes' would be premature. So instead I'll give you a promise in return." She leaned down and whispered in his ear, "I promise I won't say no."

The next morning, before breakfast, Hermione ascended the spiral staircase to talk to the woman she considered her surrogate mother.

Ten minutes later, Minerva sat behind her desk, a stunned expression on her face. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair, watching Minerva's reaction. She hadn't known what to expect from her, but shocked silence wasn't on the list of possible reactions.

"Minerva?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Minerva shook her head slightly and smiled at Hermione. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm just a bit surprised. This was the last thing I was expecting you to say."

"You aren't the only one."

With a wave of her wand, a tray of tea and scones appeared on her desk and Minerva began busying herself with the preparation of their tea. "When do you start?" Minerva inquired.

"I haven't accepted the job."

Minerva looked up sharply, pausing in the act of pouring her tea. "Why not?"

"I wanted to think about it." Hermione paused. "And talk to you about it."

Minerva smiled and continued pouring the tea. "And Harry?"

"Yes, of course."

"And what did he say?"

"He said I should do what I want."

"Is that all?"

"More or less," Hermione replied, blowing on her tea, smiling slightly as she remembered the rest of the conversation...and what followed it.

Minerva chuckled and Hermione looked up. "You don't have to be an occlumens to know what you are thinking about, Hermione."

Hermione laughed. "I don't think anyone would ever believe the racy undertones of the conversations I have with you. I'm not sure I believe it!"

"You'd better not tell and ruin my reputation as a stern headmistress."

"I am a very good secret keeper."

Minerva offered the plate of scones to Hermione, who waved her hand in refusal. "Back to the job offer. Do you want to take it?"

Hermione hesitated slightly before answering. "Yes, I do."

"Then you should."

"But what about..."

"I don't want you to worry about Hogwarts or me, for that matter. We will find a replacement. I'm quite sure it will be a downgrade at the position, unless I can convince Albus to come out of retirement. But nevertheless, we will survive."

"Amelia is aware of how difficult finding a Transfiguration Professor will be, so she is willing to wait until the end of term."

"I will begin discrete inquiries today, though. I'm sure you are anxious to start."

"Actually, I feel somewhat obligated to finish the term out. I would hate for a mid-year transition to affect the test scores of my 5^th and 7^th year students."

"I'm sure by the time a replacement is found your students will be mainly reviewing for their exams. We will worry about that when the time comes."

"Thank you, Minerva."

"For what?"

"Being so supportive and understanding."

Minerva rose and sat in the chair next to Hermione, taking her hand. "I am going to miss you, Hermione," she said softly. "I knew when you took this job that you wouldn't stay forever. As much as I would have loved for you to become Headmistress after me, I know that teaching isn't where your heart is. This job at the Ministry sounds perfect for you."

"I won't be going far. I'll only be working in London. I will be living in Hogsmeade."

"Harry doesn't want to move to London?"

"Who said I would be living with Harry?"

Minerva gave her a knowing look.

Hermione smiled and continued, "Okay, you're right. The people of Hogsmeade leave Harry alone. They are very nonchalant about who he is, and they treat him like any other wizard. I don't think we could find that in London. Especially considering the tone of yesterday's Daily Prophet."

Minerva's face darkened. "I feel certain we haven't seen the end of that."

Hermione sighed. "I'm sure you're right."

"Does it bother you at all?" Minerva asked gently.

"Nothing like it bothers Harry. I've always had to pretend things like that don't bother me for Harry's sake. If he had the tiniest inkling that I was uncomfortable with the publicity, he would...well, I'm not sure what he would do. But it wouldn't be pretty." Hermione took a small sip of her tea. "Have any of the other professors said anything to you about us?" she asked tentatively.

"A few. Sibyll Trelawney, of course, said she predicted it, the batty old cow," Minerva said disdainfully.

Hermione gasped and Minerva looked slightly chagrined. "I would never say that to anyone but you, you do know?"

Hermione laughed at the abashed look on Minerva's face. "I know. Harry told me she predicted something about us in his seventh year, but I rather thought he was using a line to get me in bed."

"Well, it worked, didn't it?"

"Not that night, no." They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Minerva got up, shaking her head with mirth and returned to her chair behind her desk.

"The teachers are very supportive. No need to worry about them."

"Even Severus?"

"Of course not. But he will leave you alone. Trust me," she said with finality.

"Good. Snide comments from Snape just might send Harry around the twist."

"We wouldn't want that, would we?"

"No, not at all."

The night before Hermione's conversation with Minerva, Harry had left, reluctantly, at midnight.

And so their routine began. Harry would sneak to Hermione's room each night after dinner using his invisibility cloak, and he'd leave around midnight in the same manner. Although their fellow teachers were supportive of their relationship, both Harry and Hermione felt it would be more comfortable for everyone involved if their time together was assumed rather than seen.

They tried to act as nonchalant and normal as possible around each other, especially during meal times in the Great Hall, even going so far as to sit separately. Whether sitting next to each other or not, the whispers and stares followed them. When sitting together, Hermione heard comments that were meant to be spoken out of earshot.

Aren't they cute? I wonder if he is a good kisser. What does he see in her? I bet Professor Granger is hot in bed!

That particular comment earned a stern glare from Hermione, who was inwardly thinking You bet your arse I'm hot in bed. When sitting apart they each heard whispered concerns about the health of their relationship and bets being taken on when it would end.

Both Harry and Hermione expected to be flooded with owls. Although they did receive quite a few, it was nothing compared to Minerva, who was getting inundated.

The day after the story of their relationship broke, a follow-up story was printed in the Daily Prophet questioning Hogwarts' policy on teacher fraternization. Full of errors, an incorrect policy and quotes from "unnamed sources in the castle," Hermione summarily dismissed the article as the reporter creating news where there wasn't any. However, the students' parents saw it differently. Minerva was swamped with angry letters from parents all but blaming Minerva and Hogwarts for the moral decay of wizarding society.

Loathe though she was to address something so inherently flawed, Minerva went on record with the Daily Prophet, explaining the policy in detail and supporting Harry and Hermione without reservation. Teachers and students were also interviewed and related their accounts of Harry and Hermione's relationship and public interactions. All but a few said that if the Daily Prophet hadn't announced it to the world they wouldn't be able to tell they were a couple.

With the printing of each new story, Hermione watched Harry seethe a little more. She would calm him down and reassure him that the attention didn't bother her. He would smile at her and turn back to his breakfast, attempting to hide his anger, with little success.

Since Hermione wouldn't be starting her new position at the Ministry until a replacement was found or after the term ended, everyone agreed that it would be best to hold the announcement until the media's infatuation with Harry and Hermione died down. Because of the difficulty of the Transfiguration position, a search for a replacement would most likely be a long process. As promised, Minerva quickly began discrete inquiries into finding a replacement for Hermione.

Less than a week later, the story hit the Daily Prophet.

"Right. That's it. They've gone too far," Harry fumed.

"What is it this time?" Hermione resignedly asked, beginning their daily ritual.

GRANGER BEING PUSHED OUT OF HOGWARTS

The search is on for a new Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Reliable sources have confirmed that Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, is making discrete inquiries into hiring a replacement for current Transfiguration Professor, Hermione Granger.

"The distraction of her relationship with Harry Potter is just too much for the students of the school," this source said, on condition of anonymity. "The students have lost all respect for her and her classes apparently are disorderly as a result. There is serious concern that her 5^th and 7^th year students may fail their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s as a result."

Ms. Granger was hired four years ago as the youngest Transfiguration Professor in Hogwarts history under protest from many in the wizarding world. "Its common knowledge that the only reason she got the job was because of her role in defeating You-Know-Who and her personal relationship with Headmistress McGonagall. She wasn't qualified for the job," the source continued.

At the printing of this paper, the status of Harry Potter's job is unclear.

Harry let out a low growl and wadded the paper up in frustration. Students were looking at the head table and whispering, shifting their eyes between Hermione, Harry and Minerva. Minerva was reading the article with a frown, holding her spoon in midair above her bowl of porridge. Hermione turned to Harry, who was rising to leave.

"Well, well, well," a silky voice whispered behind her. Hermione groaned inwardly as the sound of Snape's disdain invaded her thoughts. Harry tensed and rose to face Snape.

"Hello, Severus. I wondered what was taking you so long to offer your congratulations to us. Should I expect a smile and a slap on the back? Or perhaps a knife in the back is more appropriate?"

Snape's sneer faltered a bit, before resting on Hermione. He looked down almost imperceptively at her necklace before saying, "I see you have a new piece of jewelry."

Hermione glanced at Harry, whose eyes were narrowed at Snape. "Yes, I do. It belonged to Harry's mother."

"Yes," Snape said slowly. "I know."

Harry stepped forward, his fists clenched. "Harry!" Hermione said sharply, nodding her head toward the students. He took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face and said through gritted teeth. "If I find out that the 'source' in the Daily Prophet is you, you will regret it. Trust me."

"Severus!" Minerva called as Snape opened his mouth to reply. He looked over at her and back at Harry. His lip curled into a lopsided sneer and he turned and walked away.

Hermione felt angry energy emitting from Harry. She grabbed his arm and said, "Promise me you won't do anything rash."

The smile he attempted was more of a grimace in Hermione's opinion. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, the first gesture of affection either had shown the other in public. "I love you," he said, and then he turned and walked out of the hall.

"Hermione?"

She turned to see Minerva standing to leave. "I think it is time we went on the offensive, don't you think?"

Hermione smiled and rose to leave as well. "I couldn't agree more."

In the dying light of late afternoon, Hermione walked across the snow-covered grounds to the Quidditch Pitch to surprise Harry. She huddled down in her cloak, and her breath was captured by the scarf wrapped around her face and neck, giving her a sense of warmth not shared by her watering eyes.

She knocked rapidly on the door to Harry's office, hopping on her feet to retain a modicum of the warmth her body had generated on the trek from the castle. Harry opened the door with a puzzled look on his face, clearly not expecting a visitor. His nonplussed expression changed to one of glee as he pulled her into his office and wrapped his arms around her.

"A surprise visit from my girlfriend! What a way to end the day," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips.

"How was your day?"

"Getting better by the minute," he said, pulling her scarf from around her throat and nuzzling her neck behind her ear. "I've missed you."

Hermione leaned back against his arms and pulled his head back to look at his eyes. "I've missed you, too." Hermione laughed. "God, we're sappy! We've not seen each other for eight hours but you'd think it had been a lifetime."

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "I know. Aren't we disgusting?"

"Very." Hermione removed her cloak and tossed it on a chair.

"So how was your day," Harry asked, walking behind his desk and sitting down.

"Very good. Minerva and I had a floo conference with Amelia this morning after breakfast. The Ministry and Hogwarts have put together a joint press release detailing the new Ministry department, my new job and the resulting search for a Transfiguration Professor." Hermione sat down in the chair in front of Harry's desk that was not holding her cloak. "We realize now that we should have done that to begin with, but this should rectify the problem. The story should run tomorrow in the Daily Prophet. I think Luna is putting a special edition of The Quibbler out for it." She laughed and shook her head. "It's funny how The Quibbler and the Daily Prophet have almost switched formats. Luna has stayed out of the fray on our relationship, saying today when I talked to her, and I quote, 'No offense, Hermione, but your love life just isn't news.'"

Hermione's laughter died in her throat when she looked up at Harry, whose eyes were wide and his face ashen.

"What's wrong?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something and instead a long sigh, almost a groan, escaped his throat. He looked down at his desk, pushed the grade book sitting in front of him away and dropped his quill. He rested his head in his hand and squeezed the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes. Still holding the bridge of his nose, he looked up at Hermione. "I sent a letter to the Daily Prophet today."

"You did what?"

"I wrote a letter to the editor of the Daily Prophet."

That's what I thought he said.

"Oh, Harry. Why would you do such a thing?"

Harry rose from his chair and walked quickly around his desk. "Now, before you get mad, just listen. I got tired of them dragging your name through the mud. You act like it doesn't bother you, but I know it does. It must!"

"What did the letter say?"

Harry cleared his throat and he said rather quickly, "Basically that they were printing inaccurate stories, their journalistic integrity was seriously in question, and that our relationship was private and not fodder for imaginative journalists trying to make a name for themselves by ruining other people's lives."

"Jesus Christ, Harry!" Hermione said, jumping up from her chair. "Why not just paint a target on our foreheads? That isn't going to stop them. It's only going to egg them on!" Hermione began to stalk back and forth across the room. Anger at Harry, as well as at their situation, rose in her and seeped through every pore of her skin. "Did it even occur to you that you should talk to me about this?"

His silent stare answered her question and fanned the flames of her anger.

"Don't just stand there! Answer me!"

Harry's eyes flashed. "No, I didn't think to ask you."

"Arrrrgh!" Hermione growled, and began pacing back and forth again. She knew she was overreacting, but for once in her life, her instincts were centered on her emotions. The anger at the media that she had harbored for weeks now and hidden so well from Harry was flowing through her in torrents. The loss of control she had felt since she had given her heart to Harry finally broke something in her, and she felt her body begin to tremble in an uncharacteristic rage.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I had no idea sending the letter would make you so angry."

"This isn't about the letter, Harry."

"Then what is it about?"

"This is just one more example of you deciding what is best for everyone else without consulting them about it."

"I wasn't deciding what is best for you! I was trying to protect you!"

"I DON'T NEED YOUR PROTECTION!"

"Guess what, Hermione? That's part of being in a relationship! Learning to depend on someone else. Having someone who'll support you in a crisis. Having someone who'll protect you from other people that are trying to hurt you. I'm sorry that that is so offensive to your sense of independence. But if you are going to be with me, that's going to come with the territory. I'm not going to ignore something like this just because you are afraid that depending on me is going to somehow make you lose your identity."

"And another part of being in a relationship is talking to the other person -- consulting them when something you want to do will affect them! I could have taken that job without talking to you about it, but I didn't. I respect your opinion and wanted to know what you thought."

"You would have taken the job regardless of my opinion!"

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do. You are too independent to ever rely on my opinion to make a decision."

"That is not true, Harry. Name one time that I have done something to affect you without talking to you about it."

Harry stood there, his hands in his pockets, mute.

She let out a bitter laugh. "You know, I've been trying for weeks to find a flaw in you, Harry. I knew they were there, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember even one. How could I have forgotten your 'fatal flaw,' aside from your famous guilt complex? Although you seem to have conquered that one in America somehow."

Harry crossed his arms defiantly. "And just what is my fatal flaw, Hermione?"

"You are impetuous, Harry. You make rash decisions that affect other people without their consent. You have been doing this same thing our entire lives. You decide what is best, what I should and shouldn't know, what I can handle and what I can't." She held up her hand and began ticking off examples. "Keeping the prophecy from Ron and me..."

"I knew it would reduce you to tears and Ron would freak out!"

"...giving us information about Voldemort in dribs and drabs, and even then, only when you had to..."

"I was trying to protect you!"

"...deciding to leave after Ron's funeral..."

"Oh, we're back on that again, are we? Are you going to use that against me for the rest of our lives?"

"No, I'm not! I'm using it as an example of your history of trying to make decisions for other people! It's infuriating and always has been!"

Harry threw up his hands in defeat. "I'm so sorry that my biggest fault is trying to protect and take care of the people I love. I should be sent to Azkaban on the next train! All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. So yeah, if I had to keep things from you and make decisions concerning you that I thought would make you happy in the long run, then I did it. And I don't regret it one bit!"

A resounding silence followed these words. Hermione felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and her spirit along with it. The secret that the two of them had been dancing around and avoiding for the last seven months was swirling around them, searching for a fissure to slip through and infect their happiness.

Hermione swallowed the boulder lodged in her throat. "What are you talking about?" Hermione whispered.

"Nothing," Harry said, not looking at her.

"What did you mean by 'make decisions concerning me that would make me happy in the long run'?" she said, her voice rising.

Harry paused. "I was making a generalization to prove a point."

Hermione studied him as he avoided her eyes. She walked over and grabbed his chin, turning his face to hers to force eye contact. "Don't lie to me, Harry."

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. Harry walked over to his desk and dropped into his chair, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his temples. Hermione stood across the room from him, rooted to the spot by the dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach. Harry lifted his head and said, "I've been in love with you for seven years, Hermione."

Her heart leapt and dropped to her feet simultaneously. "What?" she whispered.

Harry took a deep shuddering breath. "After you were almost killed at the Ministry of Magic, my feelings for you changed. Not overnight, but gradually during our 6^th year. I kept wondering what I would have done if you had died. I couldn't imagine not having you around. Then, when I saw you the summer before 6^th year, this attraction for you just hit me. I was stunned because I hadn't thought of you as anything more than my best friend, almost a sister, since I had known you. I ignored it, considering that as a 16-year-old boy every girl looked pretty good to me. As the year went on, this desire changed and evolved until I didn't just want to have sex with you, I wanted to make love to you."

Harry let out a bitter laugh. "Of course, it being me, nothing could ever be easy. First, there was Ron, who was in love with you and had been for years. There was no way I could betray him by letting you know how I felt. Then, there was you. You had never shown the slightest romantic interest in me. You've even admitted that to me since we've been together. I wasn't about to ruin my friendship with both of you -- the two most important people in my life -- by admitting that I fantasized about you all day, every day.

"And let's not forget the prophecy: kill or be killed. I didn't believe that I would be able to continue to defeat Voldemort. I just knew I was going to die. Even if Ron hadn't been in love with you and you had shown any interest in me at all, I probably wouldn't have done anything.

"I spent my last two years at Hogwarts preparing to die. Getting my affairs in order, so to speak. I even wrote a will, giving the majority to you and Ron, some to the Weasleys, Lupin. He would have inherited Grimmauld Place, as well.

"I tried to distance myself from you and Ron, hoping to keep you safe. I couldn't do it, though. You two were the only positive things I had in my life. But you were both so miserable, pining away for each other! And I wanted so much for you to be happy, even if it meant that I would be miserable, seeing you with another bloke. Even Ron.

"Ron wouldn't make the first move, even when I told him to. I knew I had to convince you to do it. So I did."

"So you did," Hermione interjected. "It was just that easy for you to decide for me."

"Decide for you? I didn't decide for you. You fancied Ron already! I just encouraged you to act on it."

"Right. And you left a minor detail like 'I'm in love with you, too' out."

"It wouldn't have made a difference! You didn't fancy me!"

"I didn't fancy you seven months ago either and look at me now! I'm so in love with you I can hardly keep a coherent thought in my head."

"Hermione, I thought I was going to die," Harry said resignedly.

She walked over and sat down heavily in the opposite chair and stared into space for a long time without moving or speaking, her calm demeanor disguising her inner turmoil.

"When were you going to tell me this?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Oh God. This is why you couldn't write me, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"And why you were gone for so long."

Harry responded with an almost imperceptible nod.

"Let me get this straight. You left and stayed away for five years because you were in love with me? Why didn't you just talk to me?"

"And say what? 'Gee, Hermione, I know that your boyfriend just died but I'm arse over tits in love with you. Want to go out?'" Harry said sarcastically. He turned from her gaze and looked down at his desk. "Ron was the first friend I ever had. I loved him like a brother. Part of my soul was torn out when he died." He dropped his head in shame and continued quietly. "Even so, the thought that now you were free crossed my mind. That's what I was thinking right after my best friend was buried."

A slight gasp involuntarily escaped Hermione. Harry's face was encased in shame. "I know. I was disgusted with myself. That's why I left. I couldn't be there for you, help you grieve -- not with that horrible thought going through my mind. It would have felt like the ultimate betrayal of my best friends, both of you.

"I wanted to write you a letter, but I couldn't write any of that. I couldn't write a letter with a bunch of lies in it either. Believe me, I tried."

"And you stayed away because I would remind you of this betrayal."

"Partly. Mostly, I was trying to move on, to get over you." He looked back at Hermione, saying softly, "It didn't work."

Hermione took a deep breath attempting with great difficulty to contain the sobs that were struggling for release. She wiped unwanted tears from her eyes and sniffed loudly. "Do you realize what your lies have cost us?"

"Hermione, I have not lied to you."

"Everything," she choked, unable to control the sob that escaped her throat. She took a shuddering breath to collect herself and began again. "Everything you have said and done for seven years has been based on a lie."

Harry shook his head fervently. "No, that's not true." Harry came quickly around the desk and knelt in front of her. "Hermione," he began, grasping her hands, which Hermione abruptly pulled away. Shock and hurt registered on his face, and he sat back on his heels. "Everything I have told you since I've been back has been the truth. When you asked me why I left, I told you the truth: I needed to get away. I felt guilty about Ron's death. When you asked me why I didn't write, I told you the truth: I tried to write, but I couldn't find the words. You asked me why I came back, and I told you the truth: I came back because of you."

"Harry, you told me half-truths at best."

"I couldn't tell you I was in love with you when I returned. I wasn't even sure myself. I had built you up in my mind for so long I didn't know where my fantasy ended and the real you began. I wanted to get to know you again, for you to get to know me and see where it would lead. It didn't take me long to realize that I was in love with you and had been in love with you for years. I should have told you sooner, I'm so sorry I didn't. I wanted to at Seamus's and Fiona's, but you were petrified of a relationship. You could barely comprehend that I was interested in you. I was afraid if I told you I had been in love with you for years that you would go running for the hills."

Hermione shook her head and rested her forehead in her hand, closing her eyes. She could feel her pulse throbbing uncomfortably in her temples and a dull ache beginning to spread from the base of her neck around her head, squeezing all rational thought out of her consciousness. She sighed and rose from the chair and turned to walk towards the door.

"Please, Hermione, don't leave," Harry said, choking on the last word.

She stopped, with her hand on the doorknob and her back to him. "I need time to think about this. It is just too much to take in at once."

Harry was across the room to the door with amazing quickness. "Please stay so we can talk about this. We can't leave it like this. Please, I need you to stay."

Hermione forced herself to look him in the eye. "Everything is not about what you need, Harry," she said and walked out the door.

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