Harry and Hermione Start their Sixth Year

Chapter I

Wednesday, 31 July, 1996
Little Whinging, Surrey

Shortly before 7:30 am, a solitary figure jogged up Privet Drive. Harry Potter, wizard-in-training, was training for his life.

Following his return to Privet Drive in late June, Harry had gone through a week of a condition that was part reaction to the horrible events of the previous year, part depression, and a great deal of guilt and just plain sulkiness. A series of talks with Remus Lupin had helped convince Harry that, as bad as things were, they could easily get much worse for everyone if he didn't pull himself together. Not really fair, having to heavy a burden for a young man just turned that very day sixteen, but it was the truth.

Harry had always valued the truth above nearly everything else, and so decided he should stop fighting it and embrace it instead. He woke up every morning at 6:00 am, and went out from 6:15 to 7:30. At first, he was mostly walking fast, but now he was alternating between jogging, running, and even sprinting.

His run was well-timed. Uncle Vernon left for work at 7:25 and Dudley woke up at 8:15. Harry had just enough time to pound Dudley's heavy punching bag in the unfinished cellar for twenty minutes and take a shower before sharing breakfast with Dudley.

For once, the Dursleys were feeding him almost as they should, although there was nothing extra that a growing teen like Harry really needed, as he had indeed grown that previous year. He wasn't feeling the pinch, however, as every day, from 1:00 until 3:00, a member of the Order of the Phoenix would visit him. No matter who it was, they always brought a small gift of food, usually from Molly Weasley.

Tuesdays and Thursdays, an elderly witch named Mistress Merry came to coach him on some basic wandless magic, which Harry had shown some signs of over the years. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, one of the Order members who could help him work on Occlumency would visit. Since this had been Snape only once (the look on his face when handing Harry three small meat pies had served as Harry's focus through the lesson, to Snape's disgust), Harry felt he could tolerate the mental exercise. In fact, he was getting fairly decent at it. Harry wasn't certain if it was because of this improvement or because he had so decisively driven Voldemort out of his head at the Ministry, but his thoughts had not been attacked since that night.

Any thought of the Ministry brought back feelings of guilt, anger, and depression. It took all of Harry's basic optimism to drive those feelings away. 'Suppress' might be a better term. Still, his talks with Remus Lupin, and two very long letters of stream-of-consciousness writing that still were full of good advice from Luna Lovegood, had helped Harry turn himself at least partially around.

As Harry pounded the bag on his birthday, he thought about Luna. They had made a connection at the end of the previous term, but Luna had turned down his fairly tentative offer of a relationship. He hadn't realized that Luna 'played for the other team.' They still wrote each other every day, and Harry realized he had found a soul mate, even if things would always remain platonic between them.

Harry was grateful to Luna for writing. She and her father had only spent the first week of the 'long vac' in Sweden, coming back because they had decided Snorkacks were out of season. He wished his other friends were as willing to write, although he had to admit, considering what a poor correspondent he normally was, he couldn't complain too much.

Ron and Hermione had had a huge blow-out of an argument right after the start of the holiday when Hermione had revealed she was finally taking up Viktor Krum's offer to visit Bulgaria. Since she had made it clear long before that Krum was just a friend, Harry didn't see Ron's problem. Whatever chance the pair had once had as a couple was apparently gone, as Ron was now dating Luna's cousin, a Hufflepuff two years behind them, who was staying with the Lovegoods at their Ottery St. Catchpole cottage that summer. Ron had only written two short notes since, extolling the virtues of Henrietta's snogging abilities and physical attributes.

Hermione had responded to his sympathetic note (or what he'd thought had been such) with a curt note telling him to basically stick to his own business. Granted, his sympathy had been part of a general lament about discovering Luna's dating preference, but most of the letter had been devoted to concern for Hermione. Harry had written back saying concern for one of his best friends and one of the most important people in his life should be his business. Hermione had not written back for three weeks. Presumably, she was still in Bulgaria.

Harry had even written to Neville, only to get a note back from Neville's grandmother saying he was doing a garden tour of Europe with her brother Algie.

Ginny's few notes, filled with news of her having one big date in Diagon Alley with Dean Thomas and three others in Muggle London with Justin Finch-Fletchley, had made Harry feel glad for her, while also feeling a little bereft himself. As he finished the work-out, he even thought, 'I bet if I played for the other team, Colin would still be my fan-boy but still prefer to snog someone else. Birthday! Bah!'

As Harry consumed the one fried egg, one slice of dry toast, and small glass of orange juice allocated him, he knew part of his bad mood was the general state of his life, part was that he was feeling lonely without Ron and Hermione (and Luna, Ginny, and Neville, for that matter), part was feeling sorry for himself for not having a girlfriend (even Dudley now had a girl friend, although from the photos he had seen, the 'girl' had looked rather like a constipated Vincent Crabbe in drag), and partly because he had received no birthday presents. Granted, he knew that whomever visited him today could bring them, but he had hoped for something the night before at midnight. Maybe he'd at least get a small cake from Mrs. Weasley.

Harry spent the morning reading his various Defense books. He had expected his O.W.L. results by now, and until then he had no idea what else to study. He knew he had to take five to seven classes for the next two years, but there was a wide range of both N.E.W.T.-level and more practical/vocational classes available.

At 11:15, Harry went down stairs and fixed his aunt and himself a light lunch, the one chore he was still assigned. His aunt was a thin woman who barely ate. On weekends, or days when Dudley was home for lunch, Harry could fix himself a portion larger than his aunt's, but on these days when they were home alone, Harry was only allowed an equal portion -- fine for his now-nearly anorexic aunt, but far from what he needed. Harry decided to hope for at least a mid-sized cake from Mrs. Weasley.

As Harry cleared away the dishes, Petunia reminded him, "Make certain those . . . people are out of the house by three! I need to have everything ready for the bridge club at Four!"

"Of course, Aunt Petunia," Harry answered. Harry knew the club didn't eat anything, that the house was perfectly clean, and the group would drink more sherry than they played cards. Still, he wasn't about to comment on any of that. He shrugged and washed the dishes for something to do, and emptied the dishwasher.

At 12:30, the doorbell rang. Harry hoped his visitor was early, but thought it more likely to be some salesperson.

The woman at the door was middle-aged and unattractive. "Yes?" Harry asked politely.

"I was wondering, young man, if I could possibly interest you or your family in a most wonderful product?"

"I don't believe so," Harry said politely, and started to shut the door. "Thank you anyway."

"Come now!" she said, keeping the door open with unexpected strength, "Every family needs at least one Nimbus Pro-Seeker!"

Harry goggled. "What did you say?"

"Wotcher, Harry, caught you!" Tonks said with a laugh, transforming back to her usual self.

"Tonks!" Harry was so glad to see the young auror he hugged her. He had been terrified at having to deal with Snape on his birthday.

"Cor, Harry, you're getting strong," Tonks said with a laugh, hugging him back. "Didn't know you cared!"

Harry released her, embarrassed. "Sorry; I was afraid it might be Snape today."

"Naw, no Sevikins on your birthday!" Tonks kissed his cheek. "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks!" Harry said. "Coming in?"

"In a mo."

Harry was puzzled. "Is something wrong? Is Remus alright?" Tonks and Remus had just started seeing each other, and there had just been a full moon.

"He's doing alright, tired of course. Now, how would you like to leave today?"

Harry smiled. "If you help me pack, we can go in fifteen minutes!"

Tonks returned the smile. "No, we'll leave at three by Portkey. All your pressies are at our destination. I did bring someone who will help you pack."

"Who?"

Tonks stepped back and signaled. A very shy-looking Hermione stepped into sight.

"Go on, girl," Tonks said to Hermione. "Harry, show her the house. I'll be back in a little more than two hours -- be totally ready to go." Seeing the two still staring at each other, Tonks dragged Hermione to the front door, pushed her in, and shut the door behind her.

Hermione was pushed into Harry, who managed to catch her. "Are you alright?" Harry asked, not really wanting to let her go. "I've been worried about you."

Hermione stopped trying to release herself and looked up into Harry's eyes. 'When did Harry get so much taller than me?' she wondered. What she said, however, was, "Worried about me and Viktor?"

Harry smiled. "No, worried about how you're feeling about Ron, worried about how you're dealing with the delay in the O.W.L. results, worried about how your section of the Muggle world might be in danger . . . worried about why it's been so long since I've heard from you, and a little sad that I haven't."

Hermione chewed on her lower lip for a moment, and then looked back into Harry's eyes. "Harry, that letter you sent. . . ."

"What did I say that ticked you off so much?"

Hermione's grip on Harry's shoulders tightened and her eyes dropped again. "Well, when I read it, there was only one interpretation I could think of. . . ."

"And that was?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"That you were at loose ends because Luna is gay, and I was at loose ends because Ron is a prat, so we should go ahead and . . . date."

Harry was a bit embarrassed, but he had resolved to think things through and then take the actions he had decided to take, rather than jumping for answers and improvising when it wasn't necessary. He had thought about having an opportunity like this, and wasn't going to blow it. "I didn't mean it that way . . . but would it be so terrible . . . if we did?"

Hermione looked back to Harry eyes. "Harry. . . ."

"Hermione, we're friends, I mean close friends, aren't we?"

"We are." Hermione hesitated, and then said as she moved slightly into his embrace, "You're my best friend, Harry."

"In fact, even if Ron and I are mates, you're the one who's always there for me, even when I've been a prat, like over the broomstick."

"True," she admitted.

"I admit, I didn't realize how beautiful you were until the Yule Ball, but I've always thought you attractive, even before you changed your teeth."

"Really?" That startled her, but Hermione knew that Harry couldn't flatter a girl if his life depended on it, so what he said must be true.

Harry smiled. "Yes, really. Unlike Ron, I noticed you were a girl right off and have never forgotten the fact. You might have been a fussy know-it-all, but I always knew you were a very cute one."

Hermione snorted, containing her giggle.

"But at the time, then during that whole Triwizard and Skeeter mess and most of last year, I liked Cho. And, to be honest, after the Yule Ball until last month, you and Ron were dancing around each other and I was not going to get in the middle of that."

"Fair enough," Hermione admitted.

"At the beginning of this summer, I was depressed and angry. I think I'm mostly over both. As I got over both, I thought about a lot of things, including all my stupid behavior. One thing I acted stupid about was girls. Cho was a mistake from the start. Was there anyone I cared to date? Yes. You, Luna, and Ginny. My friends, girls I care about as people first. But you and Ron were still dancing around each other, and Ginny didn't seem interested. So I wrote to Luna. Luna and I have become really good friends; we owl every other day." Harry shrugged. "I'm not explaining this well, am I? What I'm trying to say is not that you were my third choice but that even though I didn't mean it to come across the way it did, maybe that's how I was thinking. I know that if I want to date you I should be declaring my undying love for you or something, but it wouldn't be honest. I really like you, even love you, as a friend, and care about you. And I think you're very attractive. But it wouldn't be honest to try to sweep you off your feet, and when you saw it wasn't honest, you'd hate me."

Harry pulled back a little, but kept his hands on Hermione's shoulders. "We disagree about a lot of things, but if there's one thing we have in common, it's that we both value honesty. I'm not as good at practicing it as you are, but we both care about it more than almost anything else. So, I'm honestly telling you, Hermione, I like you. I value you, and our friendship. I find you very attractive. And I've missed hearing from you so much this month. . . . Would you consider dating me?"

"You're right about the honesty thing, Harry," Hermione acknowledged. "Even though I know I come across as a fussy know-it-all, even I have a bit of the romantic in me. I always thought I'd be swept off my feet by my prince in a grand gesture. No offense, but you're too low-key and shy for the grand dramatic gesture."

"True," Harry agreed.

"In fact, this is about the most articulate I've ever heard you."

"Thanks," Harry grumbled.

"My mum told me last week I was being an idiot," Hermione went on, "that that kind of magnificent, romantic love felt magnificent, but that the feeling never lasts and doesn't usually develop into the kind of love that really matters and lasts. What matters is mutual respect and friendship. Only if you have those as well as passion will the passion last. But then how so you know if the passion is there? I asked. She said I shouldn't dream about being swept off my feet. Think about who I want to comfort me when I'm sick. Think about whom I would comfort first. Think about whose arms I simply want to be held by. And, when I find that person, kiss him. Then, I'll know if the passion is there."

"Really?"

"Really. And I realized that it was you I nearly always comforted first, like last Christmas. It's your arms I always have received the most comfort from. Ron held me when I threw myself at him, and it felt very good. When I threw myself at you, we both found. . . ."

"We found ourselves," Harry said. "You've always been there for me. Even Skeeter and Cho saw that."

"You couldn't give me up to please Cho last February, could you?"

"Of course not. You've been one of the most important people in my life since we met -- well, since the troll thing, anyway. But how could I say anything when my two best friends seemed to have something?"

"Have we been dancing around each other even more than Ron and I did?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Hermione smiled, and tilted her face upwards. Harry leaned down slightly, and the pair kissed.

They broke off over a minute later. "Wow," Hermione whispered. 'So that's what a proper kiss feels like,' she thought. 'Compared to Harry, kissing Ron was like kissing the hose of a soft, wet vacuum sweeper.'

"Wonderful," Harry murmured, looking at Hermione. 'So that's what a proper kiss feels like. Compared to Hermione, kissing Cho was either like kissing an elastic band under a waterfall or kissing a lip-sticked emery board.'

They kissed again, and never noticed it was over five minutes before they surfaced.

"Should we repeat the experiment?" Hermione asked in an almost pleading voice as they clung to each other.

"Tell you what. Let's pack and leave the relatives a note, and then spend the rest of the time retesting."

"Sounds very responsible," Hermione said. "Anything else we should agree on or discuss before making this official?" 'Why did I say that?' Hermione thought. 'Ron would be yelling at me by now for discussing instead of snogging.'

"We could make some sort of a deal, so that we don't fight about priorities," Harry offered to Hermione's surprise. "I don't want to fight with you."

"That's a good idea," Hermione agreed, knowing they had very different views on what was important. "I have an idea," she offered in an almost tentative voice, at least for her.

"And what might that be?"

"My top priorities will be studying and research; yours will be preparing to fight Voldemort if necessary and Quidditch. If one of us truly gets too obsessive about one of those, we'll give the other a token, which will mean the other has to at least stop long enough to explain why we can't stop. We can also use them to get the other to do something important. We won't use them as an excuse just to snog or anything. We can start off with, say, three. If I use up all of mine making you study, then you'll have six to use, and I'll be stuck. So we'll both be careful about when we use them."

"Alright," Harry said simply.

Hermione stared at Harry in surprise. "You don't think that it's too . . . cold-blooded? Too over-thought out? Too . . . stupid?"

"Is that what Ron said when you suggested something similar?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

"I'm not Ron," Harry said simply, hugging Hermione closely for a second. "I don't want to fight with the most important person in my life. I know we'll schedule some time to be together, right?" he teased.

Hermione was glad she had finally learned when Harry was gently teasing her. He had a very dry, droll sense of humor that had taken her over four years to catch on to. "I promise to include at least fifteen minutes a day and two half-hour sessions every Saturday and Sunday," Hermione said gravely. They both smiled, happy they could tease each other without a fight breaking out.

Harry sighed and released Hermione from the long embrace. "Let me show you around, and we can get packed."

Tonks Apparated into the Dursleys' living room at 2:33. 'I wonder if those two managed to come together,' she thought. 'They both care so much for each other they should at least try to be together.'

Walking out to the entrance hall, she saw Harry's trunk, a shopping bag filled with more clothes, and two more bags that proved to have Harry's old books and notes. Those, and Hedwig's cage, were apparently all of Harry's earthly possessions.

There was no sign of the teens.

'Where could they be?' Tonks thought to herself. An awful idea popped into her head, and she managed to sneak up the stairs without making a sound.

The pair was in bed, just as she had feared. Fortunately, it was clear that the only clothing they were missing were their shoes and Harry's glasses. Harry was asleep, lying mostly atop Hermione with his head between her small breasts -- Harry's 'bed' was such a small cot there was no room for them to be positioned in any other way. Hermione looked up at Tonks, and, moving gently and slowly, eased out from under Harry. She grabbed Tonks' arm and dragged her into the master bedroom.

"Did you know what that damn prophecy said?" Hermione hissed angrily.

"Uh . . . no. What. . . ?"

"It said Harry has to be the one to kill Voldemort, or he has to die trying!" Hermione's eyes were glistening from emotion.

Tonks winced.

"Do you know when Harry was told that? Like an hour or two after Sirius died! No wonder he was in such a state the rest of the term. Why can't anyone trust us with what's going on! I could have helped him! No, he's had to suffer through it for weeks, and he's still suffering. Do you know what he did when we were lying on the bed?"

"Snog?"

"NO! We didn't get back to that!"

'Alright! They're together!' Tonks said to herself, but outloud she said,"Cry?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. He tried to. He needs to cry, and he couldn't. He needs to cry for the years of abuse he suffered here. He needs to cry for Sirius. He needs to release some of that inner anger and angst. He gave what sounded like a few abbreviated snorts and that was it. Even that was so upsetting he fell asleep from the effort."

Hermione's expression went so fierce that Tonks took a step back. "I am never leaving him alone again. Ever. Maybe you and Remus can be trusted, but no one else can!"

'Heaven help any who come between Hermione Granger and the man she loves!' Tonks thought. "May I give you a word or two of advice? From one woman who loves a strong, proud man who is in great psychic pain every day to another?"

Hermione's expression softened, and she nodded.

"One. Love him, support him. Do NOT mother him or coddle him in any way, unless he asks for it. If Harry does have to be the one, he'll need all our support, but he'll need yours most of all. Two. Now, don't take this wrong, but sometimes you can be a bit . . . over-zealous, especially in your work habits. That good for you, but. . . ."

"Not for most other people," Hermione said with a wan smile. Ron had certainly told her that more than enough times. "I need to remember the extra pressures Harry is under, and not be too hard on him."

"Right -- but don't be too easy on him, either." Tonks grinned. "He IS a male, and therefore in need of training."

"Really?" Hermione teased. "And is Remus even paper-trained?"

"You'd be surprised how he's trained," Tonks said with a mysterious smile. "Go wake Harry up. I'll be downstairs."

Harry woke up alone on the cot. "Damn," Harry muttered. He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees and his head on his palms. 'It seemed so real. I thought . . . I might be happy. That SOMEONE might actually . . . love me. That I could finally show I cared about someone.' Then he noticed two pairs of trainers; his old beat-up cast-offs, and a pair of petite new ones. "Hermione?" Harry called.

Hermione came back into the room, and the look of concern on her face changed into a brilliant smile. "I was just talking with Tonks. Are you ready? It will be time to go soon."

Harry returned the smile in full. "I'm ready." His life might have had horrors and abuse. There would be at least one more terrible thing in his life. But he had good friends, like Ron and Luna; mentors like Remus and Tonks; and above all, he might have a partner and lover. That meant, for the first time, Harry had a real reason to want to win, other than survival instinct and a strong sense of duty.

Harry and Hermione left the smallest bedroom in the house together.