Ynunlle

Chapter II

That night, Ginny went up to Ron's room just before going to bed. She and Hermione had stripped the now-unmoving posters carefully off the walls that afternoon. Mrs. Weasley had, with a few flips of her wand, cleaned the walls of other bits of debris and scoured them. Mr. Weasley had had some orange paint in his shed, and the pair of teens had spent a large part of the rainy afternoon painting the room a less-vibrant shade of orange (but all three women had silently agreed it had to be orange). Between coats of paint, Hermione read through her correspondence, and started thinking of her replies.

That evening, Hermione gave the Weasleys their presents: a pair of crystal goblets and a bottle of mead her parents had bought for her to give to them.

"We tend to forget that nearly all our everyday household items, and nearly all the luxury items for that matter, are Muggle-made," Mr. Weasley mused as he examined the fine crystal. "Even many of the enchanted items, like most cauldrons, are Muggle-made. We just add the enchantments. The same with nearly all our food. What wizarding farmers are left grow magical plants for potions and such, not food. There are quite a number of Mixed-bloods who make their living shifting Muggle-goods into our world."

"Doesn't any of that contravene the laws against enchanting Muggle objects?" Hermione asked.

"No, it's only illegal to enchant items without a license," Mr. Weasley told her. "I wish we would all remember how much we have always needed Muggle society to supply our basic needs -- I mean all the basic food has always come from Muggles. I honor our culture, but we sometimes are too arrogant about our superiority."

"We're tying to build that into the courses the Pure-bloods want," Hermione told him. "If Professor Dumbledore gets his way, at least at Hogwarts, the Full-and-Pure-Bloods will be taking a course their Second year, which will show how dependent we are on Muggle culture."

The idea cheered Arthur Weasley a great deal.

After dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had cleared the paint fumes from Ron's room (no matter how many times Hermione or anyone else might use the room in the future, it would always be Ron's room). Hermione worked on her correspondence until Ginny visited a little after 10:00.

"I'm going to miss you sleeping in the same room," Ginny said as she sat on the bed. "Although I'm sure you prefer Ron's bed to that little cot."

"I'll miss you, too, but at least you still have Pig," Hermione teased, referring to Ron's small owl, who had adopted Ginny as his new mistress.

"True," Ginny retorted, "but he doesn't answer back much."

"Well, in two nights you'll have Neville."

Ginny blushed, to her dismay. Still, she answered gamely. "No, I won't. Would you try anything in that house, with his grandmother keeping a close eye on everything?"

"No," Hermione had to admit, "I wouldn't. So make that three days. You know the pair of you will have adjoining bedrooms at Potter Place again."

If Ginny hadn't been blushing before, she would have now. Harry had arranged the rooms so that the three couples could sleep together if they wanted to without anyone knowing the previous Christmas. "Hermione, can I ask you something?"

"You may," Hermione answered, blotting a letter.

"Neville and I did sleep together last Christmas. Did you and Ron?"

Hermione rarely blushed, and so did not now. "Yes, but that's all we did." She then slightly flushed at a memory. "Well, we showered together there once, and then again once at my place, but that's all."

"Really?" Ginny asked drily.

"Okay, I got Ron off in the shower both times, alright?" Hermione almost snapped. She felt a little contrite at the sight of Ginny's sad face.

Hermione sighed. "Now, of course, I wish we had actually made love, but there was no way to know. . . ." she trailed off. She looked at Ginny. "Did you two do anything more than just sleep?"

"Well, we showered once, too," Ginny answered, before confessing, "and, well, yes, we did make love twice at Potter Place, and I helped Neville get off a few times at Hogwarts. We just couldn't find any place private enough to do more."

Hermione giggled slightly. "What?" Ginny asked.

"I do sometimes wonder where Harry and Luna go to make out," Hermione admitted. Seeing the startled look on Ginny's face, Hermione continued, "Come on! Harry has an invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map. You know he must have found some secluded place by now, even if they still just snog!"

"That's true." Ginny gave Hermione a strange look. "The two nights after Ron died, you did sleep with Harry down in the common room. Did you do anything?"

Hermione ducked her head, and her hair hid her face. "The first morning after, Harry just came down and found me awake on the big sofa. I'd been awake all night. I put my head in his lap and fell asleep for an hour or so. That's all. The next night, well, I was all wound up." Ginny remembered that well. "Harry came down and made a copy of that new twin recliner he has in his study at Potter Place. We fell asleep next to each other."

Hermione finally faced Ginny, who had a slight leer on her face. "No, we didn't make out or anything! God! Ron had just. . . ." Ginny's face fell. Hermione continued, "But when we woke up the next morning, well, we were both in pajamas, of course."

"Go on," Ginny encouraged.

"Well," Hermione continued delicately, "when I woke up, I was sort of . . . sprawled on top of Harry with my hand down his pajamas."

Ginny giggled so hard she fell off the bed.

"It wasn't funny!" Hermione said, attempting to be prim.

"So," Ginny asked through more giggles, peeking over the edge of the bed, "did Harry measure up to Ron?"

"I never asked anything like that about Neville!" Hermione protested.

"I would think Neville is quite the statistical average, or a bit better," Ginny retorted. "He's a great fit! No complaints!"

"Ron was at the upper-end of the statistical average," Hermione said loftily, trying to ignore Ginny's last innuendo. She broke down and grinned. "Harry really raises the national average."

Ginny howled with mirth. "I wonder if we should say poor Luna or lucky Luna," she finally managed to say.

"Lucky," Hermione said somewhat wistfully, "very very lucky."

Wednesday, July 30, 1997

Shortly before lunch, Ginny and Hermione gripped the rope portkey Dr. Potter had provided them via Harry the day before. In an instant, they found themselves in the entrance foyer of Longbottom Hall.

Looking around, Hermione suppressed a sigh. She wondered if there were any middle-class wizarding households. She decided she would discuss it with Dr. Potter and Carole the next day if she could.

She was only at Longbottom Hall for a little less than 24 hours, but in that short time her empathy for Neville increased a great deal. It was a pretty house, in many ways, but it reminded Hermione of the stately National Trust homes she had toured with her parents when she was much younger. There was a museum quality to the house, even more so than at ancient Potter Place. At least Potter Place, in the private areas, looked like a comfortable, if wealthy home.

Longbottom Hall was just plain uncomfortable. Hermione remembered the 'deportment classes' her late grandmother had insisted she take the summer before she went to Hogwarts for the first time. This was the only time since where she felt it necessary to sit 'correctly,' legs bent under the chair and towards the side, with her ankles crossed 'properly.'

Hermione felt Ginny and Luna's occasional giggles were directed at her; they were certainly imitating her. Harry looked the most uncomfortable of all. They sat through the formal luncheon. Neville took them on a tour of the estate grounds, and they came back for a high tea, where Neville opened his presents. A tour of the Hall followed, then they retired to change for dinner.

Hermione had never realized that such dinners had survived so long past World War I. Harry and Luna's eyes glazed over half-way through dinner, although Harry managed to rouse himself for Neville's birthday cake. 'God,' Hermione thought, 'all they need is a whist or bridge party for the girls and billiards for the boys.'

As a house elf cleared the table, Mrs. Longbottom asked, "May I ask, do any of you children play bridge?"

Hermione, and to her surprise Luna, both admitted to playing. Harry and Ginny each picked books from the Library, and the rest of the group sat and played bridge for nearly two hours.

"Thank you for a most enjoyable evening, children," Mrs. Longbottom said a little after 10:00. Neville took Harry up to their rooms on the third floor, while Mrs. Longbottom conducted the girls to a pair of rooms on the second floor. Obviously there would be no hanky-panky allowed at Longbottom Hall.

As was befitting the beloved of the heir to the House, Ginny had been given the best guest bedroom. Hermione and Luna were sharing a huge bedroom, with attached bath. Deciding it was too late to have a bath, Hermione merely washed up, and came out in a few moments to brush her hair.

Luna came out of the bathroom some ten minutes later, nude.

Hermione looked up in the vanity mirror and saw Luna looking at her, a very different smile than usual on her face. "Eep!" Hermione said in a small voice.

"Interesting reaction," Luna said, now with her usual half-smile. "I thought Ginny said you'd spent a lot of time on nude beaches this summer."

"I guess you just surprised me," Hermione managed to say. "It's a bit. . . ."

"Incongruous in this old-fashioned setting?" Luna asked.

"Exactly," Hermione agreed.

"It is hot, though, and there's no cross-ventilation," Luna pointed out, as she went around the room, blowing out the candles. She knew Hermione was watching every graceful step and movement. "Join me?" Luna asked.

Hermione stood up and took one step towards the large bed. She stopped, shrugged, and took off her nightgown.

As they both got onto the bed, they made certain they stayed well-apart on the large bed.

They laid there for several minutes.

Finally, Hermione said, "Are you just teasing, did you want me to look, or did you have something you wanted to say?"

Instead of answering, Luna said, "Do you approve of Harry and me? As a couple, I mean?"

"Does my approval matter to either of you?"

"It does, especially to Harry," Luna answered. "Harry craves approval, but only from people that he both really respects and loves. Substitute parental figures in one sense, and true peers in another sense. The Headmaster really let him down at the end of my Fourth year; and of course Sirius died then, too. Edward partially fulfills that role, but they haven't known each other long and he tries to stay Harry's friend more than a substitute father. Professor Lupin does, too, but he's carrying too much of a burden of his own."

"True," Hermione admitted.

Luna rolled onto her right side and propped up on her elbow, her head on her hand. "Ronald was Harry's best mate, but Harry was really the senior member of the duo. Ginny and Neville are both too involved with themselves and too much in awe with Harry in general. That leaves you and me, Hermione."

Hermione rolled over and mimicked Luna's position. "What can I complain about? You've been very good for Harry, and you care about him very much. I had doubts, but you showed me I was wrong last year any number of times."

"I do care for him, probably as much as you do."

"What do you mean? I loved Ron," Hermione protested.

"I don't know if you ever realized it, but I was a lot like Ginny. She had a crush on Harry from the age of ten; I had a crush on Ronald. While Ginny was watching and studying Harry, I was watching Ronald, and you and Harry as well."

"Really?"

"Really. And, to me, it seemed that while you loved Ronald, you were always equally in love with Harry, and I still think so. Why did you decide to go with Ronald? Just because Ronald was more obviously in love with you? Or because you knew that Harry could share you with Ronald more than he could share you with Harry? Or were you really more physically attracted to Ronald?"

"I was slightly more physically attracted to Ron," Hermione admitted. "They're very different physical types, but there's just. . . ."

"Something about Harry?" Luna said with a really happy smile.

"Indeed," Hermione said. "I'm not going to try and take Harry away from you, if that's what you're worried about."

"That would be the only thing you could do that would hurt Harry and perhaps drive him away," Luna told her.

"Then what exactly are you suggesting?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

Luna leaned over and kissed Hermione gently on the lips.

"Oh, my!" Hermione said a moment later, aware her heart rate had nearly doubled.

"Harry was right," Luna said thoughtfully, "you have fantastic lips." She leaned forward again, kissing Hermione and lightly stroking her back. Luna was relieved when Hermione kissed her back with a gentle passion.

"Are you sure this won't bother Harry?" Hermione asked, breathless. At that moment, she only cared about what Harry thought, not anyone else. Hermione had spent the first part of her Fourth year wondering if she loved Ron or Harry more. Ever since Ron died, she had wondered if she could ever have a chance with Harry, especially since he was obviously so much in love with Luna.

She had been given an unexpected answer, which made her happier than she had ever been. General feelings that she had repressed during her Third year towards several older girls sprang forth, all concentrating on Luna. She looked at Luna, to see if things might actually work out.

"I promise Harry will love us both, and that I will love you both." The pair, both unwilling to go further, kissed gently, snuggled, and fell asleep.

Thursday, July 31, 1997

Hermione woke up feeling very loved and secure. When she tried to turn over, she realized that she was well-intertwined with Luna. Memories came flooding back of the previous night.

'Am I really ready for this kind of relationship,' she wondered, 'or should that be relationships?' Thinking about it, she realized that the vast hole that Ron's death had ripped into her soul seemed bridged. It was still there, but no longer felt ever-widening and bottomless. Luna was sweet and even, she made herself admit, attractive -- and apparently attracted to her. Harry was, well, Harry.

Hermione judged her options, and decided in the short-run her best option was to wake Luna up and get dressed before anyone came to wake them up for breakfast.

Hermione awoke Luna with a soft kiss.

Ginny knocked on her friends' door a little after 11:00. "Come on, you two," she said. "It's time to go."

Luna opened the door, favored Ginny with one of her secret smiles, and walked out of the room. "Try and convince Miss E.L.F. that leaving her bags will make the elves happier than dragging them down the stairs herself will," Luna said.

"Hermione!" Ginny protested, rushing into the room.

"Relax!" Hermione was sitting on the bed. "I just wanted to thank the elves!"

Ginny grabbed her hand and pulled her off the bed and towards the door. "And you should know perfectly well that they won't appear while you're in the room! You're holding them up! You would think someone as brilliant as you could remember that from breakfast!" Hermione had wanted to stay in the breakfast room to thank the elves that morning, and had to be coaxed out.

"But last night. . . ."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Last night they were summonsed to take the cake away, to make certain Neville wouldn't eat too much of it."

'Sometimes,' Hermione thought, 'I don't believe I'll ever understand this world!'

Hermione and Ginny caught up with Luna at the top of the grand staircase. She saw that Harry and Neville were already in the entrance-way, and Neville was being lectured by his grandmother.

"Please demonstrate to us the proper way to descend a stair, milady," Luna teased gently, using a very posh accent. Ginny giggled.

Hermione frowned for a second, then decided they weren't making fun of her -- they were mostly making fun of the situation, and a little of Mrs. Longbottom. Hermione swept back her hair and descended the stairs at the proper speed and with just the proper bounce in her step.

The slight sound of her steps attracted Harry's attention, which in turn attracted that of Neville and his grandmother. Luna swept down after Hermione, and Ginny followed, although they both perhaps bounced a bit more than was strictly proper, especially Ginny.

Mrs. Longbottom allowed herself a slight smile. The Weasley girl was affectionate, bright, and vivacious, just what a somewhat-staid boy like Neville needed. She was also Pure-blooded, if from a very poor family on her father's side, and one only slightly better off on the mother's. In her parents' time, a match like that would have been almost unheard of. Now, this bright penny of a tomboy was a good catch for Neville.

Lovegood was a Bohemian, or whatever the correct term for the type was these days. Probably good for the angst-ridden Boy-Who-Lived. But Miss Granger, Muggle-born though she was, was a lady. She would take the two pairs in hand, and at the very least see them through Hogwarts and see them well-launched into life.

"Miss Granger," she said, her approval obvious in her voice, "it has been a pleasure to have you in our home. I understand you are working to bring the different cultural wings of our world together. I shall write Mistress Truheart and Mistress Trowbridge; they both reside near Hogsmeade. They might be of some help to you in regards some of the older aspects of our culture. If they are interested in helping, I shall write Miss McGonagall to see if you might visit them other than on Hogsmeade weekends."

Extending her hand, Hermione clasped Mrs. Longbottom's in the prescribed manner. "Thank you, I would appreciate that very much." She remembered the White Coven from the previous January. "I am very grateful for Neville, and you, having me to stay."

Mrs. Longbottom smiled more broadly than Neville had seen in a long while. "I am sure we both enjoyed your visit. I am also sure you will keep an eye on all four of these scamps at Potter Place, and beyond," she said, while thinking, 'That's right, girl! Put me in my place by reminding me all this is Neville's, and that I'll just run it on sufferance once he finishes school. If he and Ginny marry, I'll still have a diminishing hand in running the place, but if you married him, I'd truly be put in my place inside of six months!'

"I have been honored to meet you formally," Hermione concluded, dropping her hand. "Thank you for receiving me."

"Miss Granger," the old lady said, "believe me, I know who has been honored." She turned to Neville, "Well go on! You five have much to do!"

Harry, Luna, and Ginny all thanked the older woman, Neville said goodbye again, and then Harry activated the portkey, sweeping them away.

'Neville was honored, because one of the most powerful wizards alive is his friend,' she thought after they left. 'Neville was honored, because the most brilliant witch in the last two generations or so has helped him along, until he has been able to help himself. Muggle-born or not, the girl deserves our help.' She marched off to write to the other members of the White Coven, twelve Pure-blooded witches who sought to preserve the old ways without the most of the old prejudices. She was the youngest, at 87, Mistress Trowbridge the oldest, at 198.

When the next year started, Hermione would find herself with new resources.