Circle's Close

Chapter Ten: A Gift From Harry

***

It was a frenzy at the Hogsmeade Train Station, where the majority of Hogwarts students were busy finding their compartments and piling their trunks into the train.

Harry was no exception to this at all, as he stood in front of the bright red steam engine, the Hogwarts Express. He felt a warm tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that had started a week beforehand. For the first time ever, he would be leaving Hogwarts for the Christmas Holidays, just like everyone else. He wasn't getting left behind this time, and he found it extremely difficult not to jump for joy when this thought crossed his mind.

But then sadness would wash over him for a moment, and he found himself wishing that he wasn't leaving at all.

"You'll see me Christmas Day," Sirius Black assured his godson for the hundredth time.

"I really don't want to leave you," Harry said, deeply torn between the joy of going home for Christmas, and the guilt of leaving his godfather behind.

"It's only one week until you'll see me again. You'll have a great time with the Weasleys, and you've got Hermione," Sirius reminded him.

At the moment, Hermione was in the Express with the Weasleys, finding their own compartment.

"I know," said Harry, smiling suddenly. "It's just my first Christmas away, and you won't even be there," Harry replied.

"But I will be there," Sirius told him, sighing with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "In a week. Christmas Day. And don't get into any trouble. Please," Sirius pleaded, with a knowing smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Who, me?" he asked innocently, laughing with Sirius.

"What's so funny?" asked Hermione, appearing at Harry's elbow. She latched onto it firmly, a gentle reminder that the Express was getting ready to depart.

"Nothing," Harry assured her. He turned back to Sirius. "The house'll be ready for when you arrive," he told him.

"You've got the key?" Sirius asked.

Harry held up the silver house key and nodded, then tucked it back into his cloak.

"Take care, Sirius," Harry said, giving his godfather a warm embrace.

"Same goes for you both," Sirius said, after wrapping Hermione in a hug.

"We'll see you on Christmas Day, around breakfast?" Hermione asked, pulling away.

"That seems to be the plan," Sirius said, and Harry shot him a threatening look.

"Don't you dare think for one second that I won't use one of the Unforgivable Curses on you if you don't show up," Hary said, which made Sirius laugh.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it for the world. This is my first real Christmas, too, remember?" he told them.

Harry's expression softened slightly as he realized that this Christmas meant a lot to him as well.

"We'd better go," Hermione said, nodding towards the train where Ron, Leah and Ginny were calling for them to hurry.

"Have a good one, Sirius," Hermione said casually, giving him a kiss on the cheek and in turn avoiding the jealous, seething looks of the other girls boarding the Express.

Harry smirked, taking notice of this. It hadn't taken very long for the female students of Hogwarts to grow rather fond of Sirius Black. Hermione had been right in saying that his godfather still had his looks. He supposed the girls were also attracted to Sirius' dark and deeply mysterious nature.

Sirius nodded to them both, and they turned, heading to the train.

"He'll be OK, right?" said Ron, as Hermione and Harry sat across from him, Ginny and Leah.

"He'll be just fine," Harry said, turning to the window. He could see Sirius standing there, waving reassuringly and enthusiastically. Everyone in the compartment returned the wave, and soon the Express hissed to life, and it started to pull away.

Harry only stopped waving when the Express turned around the bend, and fell away from the station at an increasing speed.

*

If it was a frenzy at the Hogsmeade Station, it was nothing compared to the frenzy at the Burrow. At King's Cross Station, Mr Weasley had arrived, and had driven Ron, Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Leah to the Burrow. Ron hadn't been kidding when he said his whole family would be there.

"Oh, good! Everyone's here," Mrs. Weasley called excitedly, hurrying from the kitchen to the front door. Mr Weasley ushered the five teenagers further into the house.

Percy, Fred, George, Bill and Charlie were all seated at the kitchen table, which was now large enough to fit at least 20 people. Harry suspected that perhaps Mr Weasley had the kitchen magically enlarged in order to fit all of those who would be dining at the Weasleys during the holidays.

Instantly Percy was up and rushing to Harry, extending his hand and shaking Harry's vigorously.

"Good to see you, Harry," he said in his usual pompous way.

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Percy. Good to see you, too," he said as Ron, Ginny and Hermione were greeted by the other Weasley brothers.

"Everyone," Ron said, distinctly clearing his throat and addressing the entire household, which was now squished comfortably into the kitchen. He took Leah's hand and stood her in the middle of the kitchen so everyone could get a clear look at her. They all stopped talking at once.

Harry could see Leah's face turn a brighter shade of magenta as Ron introduced her to the entire family.

"This is Leah York," Ron said. Leah covered her eyes with one hand, lowering her face in embarrassment, and raised her head again as Ron named off his older brothers.

"It's a pleasure, Leah," said Mrs Weasley kindly, getting up from her chair. "Have a seat. I'll get you all some juice. Cookies anyone? I've just baked them." She walked over to Leah, gave her a comforting squeeze on the arm and led her to a seat. Ron sat down next to her at the table, where Ginny was squished between her twin brothers, Harry took a seat next to Hermione, who was settled next to Bill.

"Ron told me you're a Quidditch player," said Charlie, turning to Leah, whose face had gone back to its original color.

"I'm a Chaser, along with Ginny on the Gryffindor team," she told him, quickly growing out of her shyness.

"I was a Seeker when I was at Hogwarts. Captain, too. I could teach you a few moves myself, if you ever need any pointers," Charlie offered as Mrs Weasley set two heaping plates of warm chocolate chip cookies in front of the whole group.

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," Harry and Hermione chorused.

"Yeah," said Fred, plucking a cookie from the platter. "Thanks, Mrs Weasley. Where's the juice, eh?" he asked, quirking a brow.

Mrs Weasley ambled back to the fridge. "You can get it yourself, young man. I cringe to think what your flat looks like," she muttered to herself, pulling open the refrigerator.

"It looks great, mum!" George called back. "Mould never tasted better," he said and everyone except Percy sniggered at the table.

"Indeed," Mrs Weasley said with a stern glance at her twin sons. Though she smiled.

*

After an hour of sitting around the table, chatting about Hogwarts, Quidditch, and Fred and George's joke shop, Harry stood up, claiming he had to open his house for the holidays.

"Thanks for the snack, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione as she stood up with Harry.

"Will you two need a lift?" asked Mr Weasley. "Your trunks are still in the car," he reminded them.

"Nonsense," Mrs Weasley said, turning to her husband. "We'll just drop off the trunks later," she said, giving him a meaningful look.

Mr Weasley cleared his throat and nodded. "Not a problem. Have a good evening, you two," he said to Harry and Hermione, the latter of whom didn't understand in the least why Mrs Weasley was insistent on letting them both have some time alone together.

"It's because they figure we want a private snogging session," Harry explained to Hermione, as they walked hand in hand to Harry's home.

Hermione giggled, rolling her eyes. "It's not us they'll have to worry about," she said, thinking of Ron and Leah.

Harry sniggered with her in complete agreement. "Not just Ron, either," he added, reading her thoughts.

Hermione grew solemn, pondering how to phrase her next question. Then:

"You really think you're doing the right thing, Harry? Are you sure?"

"Well...if I'm not...then I'm in trouble, because I can't back out now. And besides, I am sure. Though to be quite honest, I don't know how. All I know is that if Ron finds out...it'll be over between us. He'd never forgive me," Harry said, his voice shaking.

Hermione said nothing to this, because the same bout of guilt that hung on Harry's shoulders also hung on hers. If Ron did indeed find out about the new secret that she and Harry were keeping from him, her friendship with Ron would be as over has Harry's.

"How about you? Are you OK with it?" asked Harry.

Hermione squeezed his hand in reassurance, and gave him a warm smile. "I trust you. And you need to do this," she added. "For Ginny, for Malfoy and for yourself."

Harry nodded gratefully, ignoring the queasy feeling he was getting in his stomach.

"It's probably a good thing," Hermione continued, as they made their way up the veranda of Harry's home, "that Leah is here. She can keep Ron occupied. It'll be easier to keep Ron out of the house," she told Harry.

Harry brightened slightly at this, seeing her reasoning.

He unlocked the door with the silver key, and pushed open the oak door, revealing the darkened household that was Harry and Sirius' home.

"Come on," Harry told her into the silent house. "Let's get started."

Hermione followed Harry through the house, lighting lamps and candles, opening curtains and fixing the house by dusting miscellaneous objects, fluffing cushions and doing a general job of tidying.

About half an hour later, Harry checked his watch for the hundredth time, and heaved a resigned sigh, looking at Hermione, who didn't know what to say.

Harry approached the fireplace and lit a blazing fire that warmed the house instantly. Hermione approached Harry, stood next to him, and gazed at the framed photographs on the mantle.

There was one of Baby Harry, being held by his father and mother, who were smiling brightly and waving at the camera. Another picture was taken of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Lily Evans, in their early years at Hogwarts. Each of the guys seemed to be struggling to get the best spot in the picture, while Lily desperately tried to get the picture-taker (probably Peter Pettigrew) to wait until they were ready. The next framed photo was of the more recent years, with Ron, Hermione and Harry grinning into the camera with playful tongues sticking out, mischief in their clear eyes. The last picture was of the Weasley family, all nine of them. Fred and George stood behind them all, sticking out "bunny ears" from Ron's and Ginny's heads as the two youngest Weasleys stood next to each other. Each Weasley was smiling broadly into the camera, though Mrs Weasley, after noticing Fred and George, started to scold them.

Hermione glanced sideways at Harry, and slipped her hand into his surprisingly cold one.

"Hey," she said, snapping his attention from his own deep thoughts.

He looked down at her, smiling reassuringly, and nodded as though to say that he was all right.

Then a distinct swooshing noise came from the fireplace, and Harry and Hermione stepped back automatically, just in time to see Draco Malfoy appear from the fireplace in a swirl of emerald green smoke.

His robes were sooty, and he coughed out some smoke before opening his eyes completely. His trunk lay at his feet, and he nearly tripped over it, blinded by the soot in his eyes.

"Watch it," Harry warned, stepping forward to remove the obstacle in his path. Malfoy coughed again, loudly, and then all was silent.

"Everything went all right, then?" Harry asked Malfoy.

"As well as they could have," Malfoy replied, now glancing around the family room, taking in the surroundings.

"Criticize all you like, Malfoy. I have no problem with letting you sleep outside," Harry said testily, mistaking the expression on his face.

Malfoy smiled. "So quick to jump to conclusions, Harry. It's cozy," he added after a few seconds, nodding approvingly.

Harry. He had said it again. Not Potter, in his usual sneering way. He had called him Harry.

At Hogwarts, when Malfoy and Harry had had their last conversation, Harry had suggested to Malfoy that he come spend the holidays with them, having found out that Malfoy was not, in fact, planning to go back home to his Manor. This was mostly a favor to Ginny, and only Harry's deep fondness for the red-head he considered his sister drove him to suggest such an idea.

When Professor McGonagall went around collecting names of those students who would be staying at Hogwarts for Christmas, Draco Malfoy did not sign up, and instead pretended that he would be going to his Manor for the holidays. He had sent an owl to his father, stating clearly that he would be staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. Lucius Malfoy hadn't even bothered to reply, and so the plan continued to form itself.

Earlier that day, when all the students were piling into the Hogsmeade station to board the Express, Malfoy had sneaked away, and hidden himself in the Three Broomsticks, waiting for the prearranged time when he would travel by Floo powder to Harry's home.

The most difficult part of Malfoy staying with Harry and Hermione was keeping himself hidden. None of the Weasleys, with the exception of Ginny, were supposed to find out that Malfoy was staying at Harry's. Harry had forewarned Malfoy that he would be spending a lot of his time hidden upstairs in the spare bedroom, and Malfoy had agreed wholeheartedly, without a single complaint. He had told Harry that even if it meant spending only five minutes out of the entire two weeks with Ginny, it was a far better holiday than spending it with his own family, firmly reminding Harry that he, in fact, loved Ginny and would literally do anything for her. Which satisfied Harry -- and Hermione -- when he had told her about the plan before the holidays had started.

That had been the other catch to Malfoy staying with them. If Hermione did not agree with it, the offer was out. But Hermione, instead of being shocked, repelled and disgusted, had claimed with her usual optimism that Malfoy staying with them could prove to be extremely promising, and perhaps would end the tiring, life-long feud between Potter and Malfoy.

Harry took a deep breath, considering something for a moment, then stepped around the sofa, motioning for Malfoy and Hermione to follow him.

Harry led them to the spare bedroom upstairs, down the hall from Harry's own room.

"You can stay here," Harry told him.

Malfoy passed Harry, stepped into the room, taking a long look. He dropped his trunk at the foot of the bed, and turned to Harry with a blank expression on his face.

"Well, I'm sure it's not anything like your room at the Manor," Harry said, jumping to the defensive, clearly interpreting his silence for great disgust of where he'd be forced to sleep.

But Malfoy smiled and turned back to the bed, his gaze fixed on a teddy bear that lay on the pillow. He turned back to Harry, quirking a brow.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, and rushed over, picking up the bear. "Sorry, it's mine. I must have left it here the last time I stayed," she explained. And Harry remembered the previous summer when Hermione had spent two weeks with Harry and Sirius.

Harry stared at Malfoy, who stared back, and finally Harry seemed to come to his final decision.

"If we're going to be friends, Draco, I want to tell you something...one friend to another."

Hermione shot a surprised look at Harry, but said nothing, letting him continue. Malfoy also seemed to be focusing on every word he spoke.

"If I ever hear the word "Mudblood" again, even one more time..." Harry said, straining to keep his voice under control, "I will have no problems unleashing all the Weasleys on you, one by one. Do you understand?" he asked, calmly looking into Draco Malfoy's face.

Malfoy's face remained carefully blank, but Harry thought he could see his throat twitch, as if wanting to say something, but unsure how to say it. He seemed to be struggling with his own thoughts, and finally he turned to Hermione.

"I'm sorry...Hermione," he said, matching Harry's same calm tone, but with a touch of unmistakable regret. Harry knew that in most cases, an apology would typically require an elaboration of sorts. But he also knew at this moment that Malfoy meant every word. The problem was, did Hermione?

Hermione, who's face had turned red with Harry's approach to defend and protect her from Malfoy, and then from Malfoy's direct apology, drew a deep breath, now dealing with her own contradicting thoughts.

Slowly, coming to the decision, she pardoned him with a single nod.

And then it seemed as though an invisible switch had just flicked on. Immediately the house cleared of the tension that had been born since Draco had arrived. Hermione smiled reassuringly to Harry, who sighed with relief.

Draco smiled, too, and grinned at Harry.

"Well then," Draco said, also feeling that the air had been cleared of many unspoken thoughts, "if this is where I'm sleeping, where will Hermione be spending the next two weeks, I wonder?" he asked slyly, looking from Hermione's blushing face to Harry's mischievous grin.

Draco returned the same grin, and Hermione glowered at the both of them.

"Oh, get off it!" she exclaimed in exasperation. "I'm still in the room, you know," and huffing in embarrassment and mild anger, she turned on her heel and exited the guestroom.

And for the first time since the two former rivals met more than six years ago, Draco and Harry shared in a delighted laugh.

*

The following week passed comfortably enough, with little incident. Only once had there been a close call, when Ron had shown up quite unexpectedly early one morning, marching into the kitchen where Harry, Hermione and Draco were eating breakfast. Draco, as fast as his feet could carry him, hid himself in the pantry until Harry could hastily direct Ron into the recreation room, so Draco could speed through the living room and upstairs to his own room.

Since that incident, Harry had become extra cautious and pleaded with Ron to knock first before entering the house. Ron, in his infamous ways, found it necessary to question this hasty pleading, and to Harry's embarrassment, Ron had come to the conclusion that Harry and Hermione were getting quite "experimental" during their time alone.

"Well, it's a lot better than Ron knowing the truth, isn't it?" said Hermione once Harry had told her this. Harry goggled at her.

The week before Christmas, Hermione had spent her nights with Harry, and Harry, after much contemplation, realized that he had never slept so well than when Hermione was in his arms.

Now December 25th dawned bright and cheerful, though very chilly. Harry didn't feel the cold, however. He only felt Hermione's warm breath on the base of his throat, her naked body pressed against his own, with a thick comforter thrown over them.

Harry didn't want to get up. It was Christmas morning, after all, but Harry felt that he would much rather stay in bed for the rest of the holidays. He had never felt so peaceful and contented. Later that day he was to spend with the Weasleys. They wanted him and Hermione over for both lunch and dinner, and Harry was very much looking forward to it...but nothing would ever measure up to the feeling of Hermione snuggled tightly in his arms.

She wasn't sleeping. Her lips were parted slightly, and her eyes were closed, but her breathing was steady, and there was movement behind her closed eyelids.

"Hey," he whispered, as his one hand found a stray lock of her hair and moved it away from her face.

She moaned a barely audible sigh.

"Happy Anniversary," he greeted as his heart suddenly swelled with love for her.

One whole year had passed, and it felt so unreal that it had only been just a year. So much had happened since then, and yet...nothing at all. At one end of the spectrum it felt like Harry had been with Hermione for years and years, then at the other end it felt just like yesterday that Harry had given Hermione the Friendship ring, the same ring that circled Hermione's third finger on her right hand. It wasn't called the Friendship ring anymore. After freeing the doomed spirit half a year ago, Harry had dubbed it the Promise ring, and Hermione had never taken it off once since that fateful day in the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione gave another small moan, and without opening her eyes her hand sought out his, and she squeezed it tightly within her grip.

"I love you," she murmured, and on impulse, Harry pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Thank God for that," he replied, making Hermione giggle. Keeping her eyes still closed, she pressed her body to his, and gave a happy sigh.

"Goodness," she said, in a dreamy stupor, "have I ever told you that you have an amazing body?" she asked, her hand gripping his one arm appreciatively.

Harry smiled. "No, actually, I don't believe you have," he told her. "Care to elaborate?"

The hand that had gripped Harry's harm slid under the covers away from view until it latched onto a body part that made Harry yelp with considerable volume and immense alarm.

Hermione giggled, withdrawing her hand. "Where to begin?" And then she cracked open one eye, giving him a sly smile. "And you had better keep your voice down," she told him. "You'll wake up poor Draco."

Harry turned his face into the pillow and gave a muffled snort of amusement. He turned his face back to her, finding that he couldn't keep his wide grin at bay.

"Me?" he said, a mad gleam in his green eyes. "That's only if you didn't keep him awake all last night. Gosh, the noises that you made. I never knew you were capable..." he said.

Hermione covered her face with her one hand in embarrassment, finding that it was burning with humiliation.

"Well," she said, after Harry's laughter died down, "I do learn from the best, do I not?" she asked, a single brow quirked, as though daring him to deny what she was suggesting.

"I do not make noises like that," he replied in mild indignation.

Hermione buried herself into his chest to muffle her laughter, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as possible to him. Their laughter died, and the silence increased, but it was a comfortable silence, full of soft touching, occasional kisses and dreamy expressions on their faces.

"Sit up. There's something I want to give you," Harry said, his heart thumping with excitement and a touch of nervousness.

Hermione looked at him curiously. "What is it?" she asked, a bright smile lighting up her face.

"It's a surprise," Harry answered, sitting up and reaching down underneath his bed.

Hermione sat up, propped up against the pillows just as Harry was. Her smile had not faded.

Harry brought out a small wooden case, (big enough to hold jewelry) with intricately carved flowers and wreaths all around the edges.

Hermione, taking the box eagerly, but with a touch of suspicion and humor said, "more enchanted jewelry? Didn't you learn your lesson last time?"

Harry tossed her a fake indignant look. "Hey--if it hadn't been for that ring--"

"I'd still love you. And just as much," Hermione responded before he could finish his sentence.

"Open it!" Harry urged eagerly, making Hermione laugh at his enthusiasm. She pried open the box, glancing down.

"Wha-" she gasped, lifting out a small pendant.

Harry's gift appeared to be a clear glass sphere, small enough to match the size of a large marble. Floating inside the marble, as Hermione peered at it very closely, was something that made Hermione's heart leap into her throat. A young and very beautiful girl floated within the glass sphere with eyes closed. She had long, waist-length silvery hair, and porcelain-like features.

"Harry! Is that the--"

Harry smiled. "Yes, it's the Princess," he told her, as she looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. He laughed nervously.

"But...how!?" she exclaimed.

Harry shrugged, remembering the steps he had to take. "I had Dumbledore place me in a trance so I could envision the Spirit in precise detail, just as I remembered her. While I was still in the trance, Professor McGonagall coached me to Transfigure the heart of the glass sphere into the vision of the Ring-Spirit," Harry explained.

Hermione was staring at the pendant, mouth opened in awe. She ran two fingers along the smooth sphere, a tear coursing down her cheek. She could practically hear the sweet, melodic voice of the Princess' Spirit.

"She's exactly like how I remembered her...Oh, Harry!"

Hermione threw herself into his arms, which was difficult considering how they were sitting, but their mouths seemed to be able to find each other, and they shared a warm kiss.

Pulling away, Harry said, "I thought it would be nice if I give you something that reminded you of our...first year together. When we're old and decrepit with 50 grandchildren, 20 great grandchildren and so on...you can look at this and remember how it all began..."

Hermione smiled, eyes moist. "The future you see sounds so wonderful..." She looked down at the pendant, still smiling. "I love it. I'll always cherish it," she promised, clutching it tightly in her fist, and she felt the heat from the sphere warm up her whole body.

"But just so you know," she added, tucking the pendant back into the box, "I'd never forget how it all began. You know that, right?"

Harry took the box from her and placed it on his nightstand. He took Hermione's hand and kissed her fingers.

"I love you so much," he told her, his eyes burning like coals.

Hermione smiled. "You've told me that a hundred times already. It's like you're afraid that I'm going to forget how much you love me."

"Aren't you?"

Hermione squeezed his hand tightly into hers, her eyes moist.

"As much as you tell me how much you love me, as often as you say "I love you", whether it's constant or not, I'll always know. I love to hear you say it to me all the time, but I don't want you to think that I don't feel your love whenever you're not sharing a bed with me, or sitting beside me at breakfast. If there's one thing that the Princess has taught me, it's that your love is in me, with me, and it's something that just grows stronger with every passing day."

Harry sighed, brushing his fingers through her messy, brown hair. "Thank you."

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "What for, honey?"

"For washing away my insecurities," answered Harry. "Thank you for being you."

"Just as long as you never change," Hermione replied.

"It's a deal, love."

Hermione lay back down and settled her head on Harry's chest, her arm draped over him, his arms around her frame. They lay, silent and thankful of each other.

"We should get up," Harry told her, after what seemed a very long time.

Hermione, whose face was buried in Harry's chest still, shook her head vehemently.

"Let's just stay here until the end of time," she said dreamily.

"Oooh, I'd sell my Firebolt for a chance at that," he said truthfully. "But it's Christmas, and Sirius is going to be here very soon. Not to mention the Weasleys, who are expecting us in a few hours time, and Draco Malfoy, who's still stuck in his room," Harry reminded his girlfriend.

"And don't forget Remus," Hermione added, sitting up again.

Harry slapped a hand to his forehead. "Blimey, I did forget. See? Do you see how much we have to do today?" His face showed nothing but calm, but Hermione could detect the worried tone in his voice.

She looked at him in mild concern.

"Are you OK? I mean...you don't sound so well," she said.

Harry looked sideways at her. "I just realized that Sirius is returning today...and that Remus is going to be here later. It's just that..."

"You thought you'd have more time?" Hermione asked.

Harry answered her with a short nod.

Hermione touched a hand to his arm, squeezing reassuringly.

"It's just that," Harry continued, "I have to tell Sirius about Draco. And then I have to tell him about his Christmas present. Am I doing the right thing?" he asked.

Hermione gave a sly smile. "Isn't it a little late to be backing out now?" she asked, laughing lightly. "And besides, you've worked hard on Sirius' present. However, you don't have to give it to him if you don't want to. But don't forget either, that Remus will be there when you give it to him."

Harry nodded again.

"And as far as Draco is concerned, Sirius doesn't seem to be the type to get angry over something like that. The worst he'd do is toss Draco out on his behind. And Sirius would never go that far."

Harry nodded, smiled, and gave her hand a light squeeze in return.

"Thanks," he said. "But even you can't say how he'll react to his Christmas present," he added logically.

"Maybe not," Hermione agreed. "But you had Remus and Dumbledore help you with it, and they know him better than anyone else we know. They would never have agreed to help you if they didn't think it was a good idea...or if they thought that Sirius wouldn't want to know."

Harry considered her logic for a moment, agreeing with it, but still unsure of himself.

Hermione gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek and sat up, letting the comforter fall from her naked body before slipping into a house robe.

"I'll be a few minutes in the bathroom," she told him, smiling sweetly.

She exited the room, and not even two seconds later she burst back into the room and threw herself onto Harry with an excited screech. She rained his face and chest with kisses.

"Happy Anniversary," she whispered into his ear before pressing a heated kiss to his lips. She pulled away and exited the room without a backward glance, leaving Harry quite light-headed, his body pulsing with love for her.

To Be Continued...