Day by Day

DAY BY DAY

By Lady Jane

Chapter Two: "The One Where Harry Moves In With Hermione"

Saturday

That had been two weeks ago to the day. Now, on this warm Saturday morning in June Hermione had awoken, but hadn't gotten out of bed yet. She lay there, thinking. Agonising, if truth be told. She thought that next time she saw Professor Dumbledore she might very well kill him, rather slowly if possible. She'd suffered two weeks of hell as she saw it and there was no end in sight. Maintaining her composure was becoming an art, for Merlin's sake. As she lay there, the sound of the bathroom door closing reached her, meaning that Harry was also up and going to have his shower. Her eyes closed as images and events from the last two weeks replayed themselves in her mind.

Harry had arrived later the same day that she'd seen Professor Dumbledore. She'd prepared the spare bedroom for him, emptying the built-in wardrobe so that he'd have space for his own clothes and things. Professor Dumbledore had given him a Portkey which brought him to her loungeroom, along with his battered trunk; Hedwig had arrived a little later, landing on the windowsill of Harry's room.

Hermione felt her reservations melt away at the sight of Harry. He looked so pleased to see her she couldn't help but feel happy to have him there as he swept her up in a hug, thanking her for having him as Crookshanks weaved approvingly around their ankles.

After he'd defeated Voldemort he'd spent most of his time at Hogwarts under the care of Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore. His physical injuries had healed well, but Harry had for a time felt lost, somehow. He told Dumbledore that he'd never thought beyond ridding the world of Voldemort. Oh, he'd given a little thought as to what career he might follow, but he'd never actually tried to imagine life with no Voldemort in the world since he'd never really been certain that he'd win. And now that there was no Voldemort, he felt in a way he was no longer needed and couldn't think what to do with himself. Even being an Auror, his original career choice, seemed fairly pointless now that Voldemort was gone.

He'd stayed on at Hogwarts and when Dumbledore asked him to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, he jumped at the chance. It probably wasn't quite as exciting as the DA had been back in his fifth year, but he found it curiously satisfying and gratifying. The students themselves couldn't believe they had Harry Potter as their DADA Professor and many classes were lost to Harry giving into repeated pleas and requests for first hand versions of his many adventures - they were the stuff legends were made of! He learnt as time went on and eventually became very adept at inserting a relevant lesson in each of his many retellings. It was any wonder DADA soon surpassed Transfiguration as the favourite subject at Hogwarts.

Ron and Hermione had visited him regularly over the years; they had both gone on to work at the Ministry of Magic - Hermione for the General Research into Everything Department and Ron for the Department of Magical Games and Sports (Quidditch Division).

Now, four years after they'd done their NEWTs, Harry had decided it was time to leave the sanctuary of Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore had agreed immediately, but felt that Harry should stay with one of his friends until he readjusted to living "back in the world" as he put it. He also privately thought that Harry, being Harry, wouldn't be able to comprehend the adulation and admiration felt for him by almost every witch and wizard alive. Harry agreed with Dumbledore and assumed he'd stay with Ron. However, Dumbledore told him he'd spoken to Hermione and she was more than happy to have him stay with her - she had plenty of room and had a much more ordered and quieter existence than Ron, the Professor told him. Harry, initially surprised, didn't take long to smile and agree that it was an excellent idea. Staying with Hermione? Perfect!

Over the course of the last two weeks, rarely did a day pass by that Harry didn't thank Hermione for having him, or tell her how much he appreciated it and how much at home she made him feel. Hermione gritted her teeth. So much at home that he'd come into the kitchen after he'd had a shower in the morning and sit with her to eat breakfast with just his towel wrapped around his waist. Sometimes he'd actually put on some jeans or trackpants, but he still never put on a shirt or t-shirt until he'd finished breakfast. When Hermione finally worked up the courage to ask him why, in what she prayed was a nonchalant voice, he said if he put on a clean top he could almost guarantee he'd spill some part of his breakfast on it so he just didn't bother until he'd finished eating. It was a habit he'd developed during his years at Hogwarts, from living alone in his own rooms where he preferred to eat his breakfast rather than under scrutiny in the Great Hall. Did it bother her? Should he go and put a t-shirt on? Hermione had smiled, waving her hand dismissively, saying she'd just been wondering, that was all and he should feel free to make himself at home. On the mornings he appeared in just that damn towel, she'd found herself wondering if there was anything under it and what would happen if it came undone... then had to perform an agonising mental exercise to make sure THAT particular thought and the accompanying image didn't intrude again - her sanity was rather precious to her and it was feeling a little fragile right now...

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Hermione groaned, pulling the covers over her head. It was bloody great, she thought bitterly to herself, to have to sit there in the kitchen every morning with her lean, but well-toned and shirtless guest, eating toast and drinking tea and trying to pretend that a half-naked Harry wasn't driving her to distraction. Just bloody great. The continuous struggle to maintain her composure was getting harder every day.

However, she'd leave for work and was able to bury herself in her reading and research so that most days she managed to keep all those disturbing thoughts and feelings for Harry tucked away in a corner of her mind. Until she arrived home from work. That first day, he'd offered to give her a soothing neck and shoulder massage after he'd made her a cup of tea because, he'd told her, she looked so tense. Despite her fears of what Harry's touch might do to her, she found the short massage session very relaxing and on days when Harry decided she looked tense, she had no say in the matter - he would insist on giving her one of his massages.

But to top it all off, the piece de resistance, the icing on the cake, the final straw - it had to be the kiss-and-hug routine. Every evening before she went to bed. On the evening of that first day, once Harry had unpacked and settled himself into his room, they'd decided to go for a walk so that Harry could familiarise himself a little with his new neighbourhood, which consisted mostly of Muggles so he was able to walk around unrecognised. They'd picked up some take-away for dinner and ate it while they watched one of the many DVDs in Hermione's movie library. When the movie finished, Hermione stood and stretched, yawning, telling Harry she was off to bed. She'd squealed with fright when, her hands still clasped above her head in the throes of stretching, she felt Harry's arms encircle her, causing her to immediately drop her hands on to his shoulders, looking up at him in total amazement. He smiled, then leaned forward to kiss her softly on her cheek; Hermione, despite being in shock, still managed to register the wonderful smell of him and the feel of his lips against her skin. She'd stared at him dumbfounded, desperately trying to ignore her dry throat and pounding heart. Bloody hell! What now? What in the name of Merlin was he doing this for? Damn it, she didn't need him hugging and kissing her for heaven's sake, even if it was only on the cheek! Seeing the look on her face and assuming she was surprised at coming face to face with an affectionate Harry, he'd laughed and said that as a child he'd always wished for someone to hug and kiss him goodnight and now he had his wish and who better than his best friend to help him fulfil it? She didn't mind, did she? 'Oh no, no, no - absolutely not!' she'd lied bravely. 'It's a wonderful thing,' she'd told him, and hugged him back.

Yep, two weeks of hell. She was climbing the wall and there was no end to this torture in sight.

She threw the covers off, but remained lying down. She'd have to get up and go have breakfast very soon, or else... or else she'd no doubt have to suffer a repeat of what had happened when she'd tried staying in bed a little later the previous Wednesday; she'd done so in the hope that by the time she arrived in the kitchen, Harry would've finished his breakfast and so would have his shirt on and she wouldn't have to spend the whole time concentrating on NOT looking at his naked torso. Well, that was a mistake, a BIG mistake - a doozy, in fact, and it had backfired badly - because what happened was that Harry had then brought breakfast to her, in her bedroom! He sat on her bed beside her with his own tea and toast - and he was even closer than he would have been in the kitchen. Breakfast in her bedroom with Harry! Shit! She'd realised that if she lifted her arm and reached out just a little she'd be able to run her fingers over his - STOP! she'd screamed to herself - but her traitorous mind wouldn't stop - it insisted on wondering just how would it feel if she slid down in the bed and pulled Harry down with her - how his mouth would feel on hers - how it would feel travelling down her neck - 'Shit!' she'd exclaimed as some of her tea spilt onto the duvet.

Harry had laughed. 'Whoa, Hermione - you can swear! What happened to my prim-and-proper Little Miss Perfect?'

Hermione shot him a dark look. 'You wouldn't believe what goes through my head sometimes, Harry,' she'd said.

'You can't shock me, Hermione!' he replied, laughing.

'That's what you think,' she'd muttered under her breath, using her serviette to mop up the tea and avoiding Harry's eyes.

After that little episode, she made sure she ate breakfast in the kitchen where the naked torso was well out of reach across the table.

Hermione swung her legs around over the edge of the bed and stood up, stretching. Another day. More torture-by-Harry. Oh, goody. As she made her bed, she heard the shower go off and so a few minutes later she gathered her clothes and headed for the bathroom. As she opened her bedroom door, she could see the bathroom door just down the hall on her right was ajar which usually meant Harry was finished and had probably headed for the kitchen to begin preparing breakfast. She walked to the bathroom and pushed the door fully open, taking a second to realise that Harry wasn't in the kitchen preparing breakfast, he was still in the bathroom and not only that, he was standing at the sink with his back to her, shaving. Which was all very well with the exception of one small detail: he was starkers. Hermione gave a small scream but was unable to move for a few seconds, brown eyes meeting the reflection of green eyes in the mirror. He looked rather surprised but not too perturbed. Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't have been more perturbed. She mumbled something that sounded like "sorry" and shut the door. She stumbled back to her bedroom, closing the door, dropping her clothes on the floor and leaned back on the door for support, her heart rate going through the roof. She closed her eyes, only to open them with a start when she realised that the sight of Harry standing naked at her bathroom sink was imprinted on the inside of her eyelids.

Oh fuck! she thought miserably. Now I have the memory of one of the best looking backsides I've seen in a long time to torment me on top of everything else! Life with Harry just keeps getting better! She let her knees give way and sank slowly to the floor. She was definitely going to kill Dumbledore. If she didn't expire first that was, as she was sure the mixture of desire and frustration she was suffering could be fatal.

When she walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later, showered and dressed in her "Saturday tracks" as she thought of them, she'd managed to pull herself together and apart from a throwaway comment to Harry that standing around naked and not closing the door was neither friendly nor considerate, the incident appeared to be behind them, although it did insist on replaying itself in Hermione's mind over and over during breakfast, making it impossible for her to read her book. This sorely tested her all-important composure but it did help a little that Harry for some reason had decided against the towel and put his trackpants on this morning. Thank Merlin for small mercies.

They'd finished eating their breakfast and were sitting, sipping their tea while they read. Or at least while Harry read and Hermione stared at the same page, thinking of Harry...

'You know,' Harry said, looking up from the previous day's copy of the Daily Prophet, oblivious to the turmoil within his friend, 'I think we should do something with Ron - see if we can persuade him to have lunch or dinner with us - go out somewhere.'

'Great idea, Harry!' agreed Hermione enthusiastically. Being anywhere else other than home alone with Harry was fine by her. Less suffering involved.

'I'll go Floo Ron and see what we can organise,' he said, as Hermione started clearing the breakfast things, putting the kettle on for their customary second cup of tea, then bending with a smile to pat Crookshanks who purred delightedly at her ministrations.

Hermione had just finished cleaning up and filling the teapot when Harry returned from the loungeroom, smiling.

'Guess what?' he asked her jubilantly.

'Don't make me!' Hermione laughed, throwing the teatowel she held at him.

He caught it and threw it straight back at her, his Seeker reflexes still very evident, catching her unawares as it wrapped around her face. She caught it as it dropped and gave Harry a mock glare, walking slowly towards him, brandishing the teatowel.

'Not nice, Potter,' she said in a threatening tone.

Harry put his hands up in front of his face, 'Please don't hurt me!' he said in a falsely pathetic voice.

'No mercy!' cried Hermione as she launched the teatowel at him.

The second he caught it, an evil grin appeared on his face as he took the teatowel by one corner and gave it a vicious flick, making it snap!

Hermione stood her ground, hands on hips, glaring at him - daring him!

For just a second, Harry allowed his perception to shift - his awareness to alter so that he took in Hermione looking rather cute and very sexy at the same time, standing there, daring him - and felt an instinctive desire to... he mentally sidestepped that thought and quickly lunged at her, grabbing her around the waist and picking her up, making her squeal. Then they were both laughing and he put her down, wrapping the teatowel around the back of her neck, keeping hold of each end and pulling her towards him with it. Hermione had to put her hands on his chest to stop being pulled against him.

He was trying unsuccessfully not to smile as he attempted to sound threatening while he said, 'Next time, Granger, I won't be so lenient. The teatowel will be wet and will make contact! No mercy!'

'Ha! Just words Potter!' she flung defiantly at him.

Then her situation hit home - she was mere inches from having her entire body pressing against Harry's - the extraordinary feel of his bare chest so hard, yet warm beneath her hands - those galvanising green eyes so close she could see her own reflection in them - the smell of him, not long from the shower - her eyes dropping involuntarily to his mouth - oh shit! she thought, I've got to get away!

Hermione ducked down and twisted sideways, escaping the teatowel and smiling at Harry as she moved around him, heading for the door. Harry turned on the spot to face her, 'You won't get away so easily next time!' he told her.

'We'll see! Now, enough high jinks. What did you and Ron come up with for today?'

Walking over to hang the teatowel up, then pouring their cups of tea, Harry told her Ron was free for the whole day so they thought they should meet for lunch at The Burning Broomstick and take it from there.

'And you still haven't guessed what, yet,' Harry finished as they moved to the loungeroom, sitting in the lounges that faced each other across a long, glass coffee table to enjoy their second "cuppa".

'I have no doubt I'd never guess in a million years, Harry, so you'd better just tell me,' she replied, rolling her eyes, wondering if he'd forgotten that he hadn't put a top of some sort on as yet, but unable to bring herself to remind him.

'All right, spoilsport! (at which Hermione poked her tongue out a him) Well, Ron asked me if it was all right for him to bring someone with him.'

Hermione immediately sat up straight, her eyes widening as she stared at Harry.

'What?! Who?' she cried, two thoughts hitting her simultaneously.

The first was that this was the first time the threesome would be a foursome.

The second was that this automatically paired her off with Harry - in a totally platonic way, of course, but nonetheless...so much for "less suffering" involved by getting out!

'Luna Lovegood would you believe!' Harry told her, amazement evident in his voice.

'Luna Lovegood?' echoed Hermione, just as amazed.

They sat and stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.

'Well,' chuckled Harry, 'she did walk around singing "Weasley is our king" back at Hogwarts an awful lot, didn't she? Apparently, they've been seeing each other for months now, but wanted to keep it to themselves till they were sure. I guess they're sure!'

Hermione shook her head. 'Well, just goes to show, doesn't it? Doesn't matter how well you think you know someone, they can still surprise you!'

'Anyway, I told him that we didn't mind - we don't, do we?' Harry continued.

"We?" she thought, "We" don't mind? Oh, get over it Hermione! she told herself, he doesn't mean anything by that - he and I are "we" when it comes to Ron.

She shrugged. 'Why would we mind? Floo him that it's fine.'

'Good! No need to Floo him again, I thought you'd say that so I told him it was fine.'

'You what?'

Harry knew that tone of voice. It was Hermione's "Watch out, because what you've just done - or said - has pissed me off and you're in trouble" voice.

'It's not fine?' he inquired, frowning, trying to figure out where the problem lay.

'You told Ron it was fine with us - with me - before you'd even asked me?'

Oh shit, thought Harry, I'm out of practice. It'd been a few years since he'd spent this much time with Hermione and he was decidedly out of practice. Time to do some fast talking! More than anything he wanted to stay on her good side.

Harry hung his head.

'You're right,' he said. 'I took it on myself to speak for you without having even checked with you.' He looked up at her, 'I'm really sorry, Hermione, really sorry.'

Hermione groaned inwardly. Damn you Harry! You always could get around me with one of those bloody looks of yours!

Still, she spoke grudgingly when she answered - she didn't want appear too easy.

'Well, all right. But don't do it again.'

Harry grinned at her as she frowned at him, her eyes travelling over his bare chest of their own accord. Harry noticed the direction of her gaze and his grin disappeared. His eyes took on a dark intensity as he watched her, then he allowed himself a very small smile.

Hermione missed Harry's change of expression being busy not looking at his face. She tore her eyes away from him, pulled herself out of the armchair and put her empty cup on the coffee table. She told Harry she was going to get dressed as she wanted to go to Diagon Alley before they met Ron. As she left the room, she heard him say something like, 'Okay, I'll go get dressed too now.'

'And about bloody time too,' she said under her breath.

They both put on jeans, Harry's being black, Hermione's white. Harry had put on a casual, deep green, short-sleeved shirt and Hermione a sleeveless, fitted, golden yellow t-shirt with a v-neck. They both wore trainers, knowing they'd be doing a bit of walking.

A quarter of an hour later saw them heading for Diagon Alley, enjoying the beautiful summer weather, then another twenty minutes later they entered the Leaky Cauldron; Harry felt almost as though he was back at Hogwarts in his first year - some people were glancing at him surreptitiously, others were staring outright and all of them were whispering to each other. Tom, the old barman, was still there and he was extremely pleased to see Harry again. Tom would have been content to indulge in a nice long chat, but as they only had limited time, they excused themselves and headed for the small, walled courtyard and the concealed entrance to Diagon Alley. Harry then went to Gringotts to replenish his money supply while Hermione picked up what she wanted from Flourish and Blotts, arranging to meet up at Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour afterwards.

Sitting outside Fortescue's, sharing a sundae (Harry's favourite: chocolate and raspberry with nuts), he wondered out loud, 'Why is it that I could eat these all day when I was small, and now I'd rather share just one?'

'Your stomach's grown up, even if the rest of you hasn't!' Hermione teased him.

Harry poked his tongue out at her, proving that he hadn't totally grown up and making them both laugh. 'Mind you,' he said, 'Ron's stomach is in danger of never growing up - he still eats almost as much as he did when we were at school!' Hermione laughed in agreement.

Passersby occasionally did a double take seeing Harry sitting there, but as yet no one had actually come up to him. Hermione glared at anyone who was rude enough to stare and she was, in fact, the main reason why no one plucked up the courage to approach Harry. She was doing exactly what Dumbledore had thought she would: being fiercely protective of Harry.

'Come on,' Harry told her a few minutes later when they'd finished, standing up and holding out his hand to her, 'let's get going to the Broomstick - I need to walk off my half of the sundae so I've got room for lunch.'

Hermione automatically took his hand then wished she hadn't as that simple contact caused her stomach to do all sorts of flip-flops. She let go as quickly as she could and they fell into step, Harry causing her outwardly calm exterior to almost crumble by throwing his arm around her shoulders, and pulling her to him. They were walking very slowly and he looked down at her as he spoke, his voice soft.

'You know, Hermione, this has been the best two weeks. I did need that time at Hogwarts to get past the whole Voldemort thing but I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and that I've earned the right to a happy life.'

'You more than anyone I know, Harry,' Hermione told him, her voice full of feeling.

'Thanks,' he said, gently squeezing her shoulder. 'And staying with you has been great.'

Hermione laughed softly. 'Harry, you don't have to say that every day, honestly!'

Harry stopped and his face and voice became serious.

'Yes, I do. I know you like things just so and it can't be easy having someone move in, making waves in your routine.'

As he spoke, Hermione felt almost dizzy - Harry being serious while he was holding her close with those eyes a mere few inches from her own was, she thought, just about irresistible. Just like a naked, shaving one, her traitorous mind mocked, adding insult to injury by conjuring up that damned image again. He was so close she could feel his breath on her face. He's making waves, all right, but not in my routine. Holy shit, she thought, I've got to break this up before I lose control and just bloody well kiss him!

Feeling shaky, she smiled at him, drawing on her habitual composure and saying, 'I consider myself well and truly thanked, Harry, honestly! I know how you feel and it's great you want to tell me every day, but...' She wondered how it was possible he couldn't hear her heart as it seemed to be pounding so hard!

'But what?' he prompted.

Suddenly, a very cheeky grin broke out on her face. 'You can make as many waves as you like, just make sure you're wearing clothes when you do!' and with that she ducked out of his embrace and backed away from him, still with that cheeky grin in place, which turned into outright laughter at the look on Harry's face.

He was outraged and embarrassed at the same time.

'Hermione! You make it sound as though I walk around naked all the time! What are you thinking?!'

A couple passing by gave him a peculiar look on overhearing what he said which only made him feel more embarrassed. He marched forward and grabbing Hermione's hand, started walking quickly towards the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, pulling her with him.

'For your information,' he whispered fiercely, looking around to make sure no one was within earshot, 'I've had to get used to having someone else around because for years I haven't had to worry and this morning I just had a lapse-'

'Nice lapse, Harry, I must say,' Hermione broke in, tilting her head as though she was trying to get a look at Harry's bum, 'very nice!'

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and looked as though he might choke. He couldn't speak. She could have no idea the effect she had on him, even with that simple, cheeky remark.

Hermione could only keep laughing as Harry started walking again without saying anything, just giving her a look that said he couldn't believe she'd come out with such a comment. Then he suddenly burst out laughing and stopped in front of her, hands on hips. 'Where the hell was Cheeky Hermione hiding when we were at Hogwarts?' he demanded, then finding her hand again as he walked on, taking her with him.

'Oh no, there was no Cheeky Hermione when I started at Hogwarts - it took you and Ron all those years to coax her out!' she told him, 'and she's here to stay!'

Harry smiled down at her. 'Good. I like her.' Hermione was sure she was only a few degrees short of total melt down.

Harry finally had to let go of her hand as they walked through the Leaky Cauldron, waving at Tom who was cleaning tables, then back out into the street, turning right to head for The Burning Broomstick. It was nearly midday and they were meeting Ron and Luna there at half past twelve.

They walked on in companionable silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

Hermione was wondering desperately how much longer she would be able to maintain her composed front. She was so aware of him that even now, just walking beside him, she desperately wanted to take his hand... Take his hand my foot! I want to do a hell of a lot more than just take his hand! Having Harry at her home was unbelievably wonderful ... and hideously torturous, all at the same time. She knew then that she needed to talk to someone and that someone was one of her best friends, Ginny Weasley. She'd have to work on arranging that - if she didn't release some of the pressure she could feel building up to dangerous levels inside her, it could be disastrous!

Ron and Luna were already there when they arrived and within five minutes of sitting down, the four of them were sipping Butterbeer and chatting away happily. Harry was on Hermione's left, Ron on her right and she was facing Luna across the small round table. They were sitting in the courtyard behind the pub where they served simple meals during summer. Harry, Hermione and Luna had ordered chicken salads but Ron, who said he was feeling a little ravenous, ordered lasagne for starters, followed by steak and vegetables with a bowl of hot chips on the side.

'I swear I don't know where you fit it all, Ronald,' Luna told him with an indulgent smile.

He leaned over and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

'I need to keep up my energy levels, sweetheart, now don't I?' he informed her, winking, enjoying the effect his words had on her, which was that she dropped her head, colour rising slowly in her cheeks.

Harry and Hermione exchanged an amused glance at this, Harry feeling a pang of jealousy at what was obviously behind Ron's casual reference to keeping up his energy levels - he and Luna were lovers. He glanced again at Hermione, wondering whether one day, somehow, he and Hermione would become lovers. And I wonder what her reaction would be if she'd been able to hear that little thought! Harry couldn't help but smirk. She'd whip out her wand and hex me, that's what! He then had to make a conscious effort to put aside all thoughts of making love to Hermione and concentrate on the conversation at hand.

After they'd finished their excellent meal they turned to discussing what they were going to do for the rest of the day.

'Actually,' said Hermione, the rest of what she was about to say being cut short by Ron's loud exclamation of, 'Ginny!', waving his arm as he called out.

Ginny had just walked into the pub and hearing her name, turned and quickly spotted them in the courtyard through the open doors and waved back to let Ron know she'd seen them. She paid for her drink and carried it outside to join them, putting it on the table before giving them all a hug - Harry's being a longer one as she hadn't seen him for sometime.

'It's great to see you, Harry! How have you been?' she asked as she sat down on a chair Ron had brought over for her and put between himself and Hermione. She peered at him, 'Looking good I must say, Harry!'

'Well, thanks Ginny,' he replied, feeling a little uncomfortable; he never gave much thought to his looks which was part of his charm. 'Anyway, I've been great - mostly thanks to Hermione,' he caught Hermione's eye and smiled at her.

'As usual!' laughed Ginny.

'What?'

'Oh, Harry, I'm being funny - well sort of! I just mean there've been a few times over the years when you've been fine mainly because of Hermione, but the same can be said of my dear brother here,' she finished, patting said brother's arm.

'Thank you, Ginny,' said Ron, 'so good not to be forgotten!'

Luna's dreamy voice drifted around the table. 'We've all helped Harry, but Harry's helped everyone,' she said.

'So true,' murmured Hermione, glancing at Harry who was looking down at the table, feeling his customary embarrassment when the subject of his defeat of Voldemort was brought up.

'Hear, hear,' said Ron softly.

'Well said, Luna,' Ginny told her.

Harry looked up, a crooked smile on his face. 'Enough, please, it's embarrassing. Besides, I couldn't have done it without all of you.'

Hermione playfully punched him on the arm, 'We just love to embarrass you Harry, don't we all?'

Everyone laughed and the moment was behind them.

'Now, where were we?' said Ron.

'I was about to say something when our darling Ginny walked in the door,' said Hermione, 'and she's just the person I want!'

Ginny looked inquiringly at Hermione who continued, 'We were going to work out what we wanted to do and what I'd like to do - no offence boys! - is have a night with you and Luna and the men can go do whatever it is men do. If that's okay with everyone?'

Ginny and Luna looked pleased at the prospect of a "girls' night" although Ron and Harry looked a little nonplussed. Harry shrugged as he said to Ron, 'We could see if Dean wants to join us and we could, um...'

Dean Thomas, with whom Ginny had gone out briefly during the Trio's sixth-year at Hogwarts, was a Healer (the equivalent of a Muggle physiotherapist in this case) for the Wigtown Wanderers Quidditch team and he and Ginny, who was the current second assistant sports editor for Witch Weekly, had met for lunch to do an interview almost three months earlier; they ended up going from lunch to dinner and had hardly been apart since.

Ginny broke in, 'Dean's free tonight - he could take you both to the Wanderers' Club - a lot of the players hang out there for dinner and so forth - you could talk Quidditch to your heart's content!'

Both Harry and Ron jumped at the suggestion and it was decided the girls would all meet later at Hermione's, Ron would Floo Dean from his place and then Harry and Dean would Apparate to Ron's later.

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Harry and Hermione walked back to her flat, leaving Ron and Luna to go back to his place and Ginny to go by her office, even though it was Saturday, as there was a draft report she wanted to finish for Monday. Her boss, Bill Quillson (often called "Bill the Quill" due to his pithy and popular reporting style), was a stickler for certain things and doing drafts and being on time were two of the main things. Ginny wanted to do well at the Weekly and she worked hard at it.

As she sat down behind her desk, she noticed a sealed envelope sitting on top of the draft report she'd been working on with her name written on it. She opened it to find Bill had written her a note. It said:

"Ginny, hand this report to someone else to finish. BB wants you to follow a tip off she's rec'd. See her 1^st thing Mon. morn. Since curiosity'll probably drive you to interrupt my w/end to find out what this is about I'll tell you this: BB's heard a former follower of Vold.'s been released from Azkaban by the Ministry & is in London. She wants you to check this & track him down - get an interview if possible. She feels you're best for this due to your connections in the Ministry."

And not my brilliant writing style? she thought wryly to herself. It didn't matter. This was a brilliant opportunity and she was going to make the most of it, including using her "connections" in the Ministry, namely Ron and Hermione - well, more Hermione than Ron! She wrote two notes herself, leaving one on a colleague's desk asking him to finish the attached draft report and give it to Bill by Monday afternoon, the other to Bill, letting him know she'd read his note, had delegated the draft report and would see him as soon as she'd finished with "BB", the nickname for Ida Wordsmith, the Weekly's Editor-in-Chief. When Ginny had first started working at the Weekly, she'd asked what "BB" stood for and was told a number of rather amusing names until Bill said it actually stood for "Big Boss". Yeah, right! Ginny had thought, but said nothing.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Harry couldn't believe the noise that could be generated by three women. The giggles, laughter and squeals seemed to be constant. He checked his watch - only fifteen minutes before he was due to Apparate to Ron's, thank Merlin!

Hermione, Ginny and Luna were all in the loungeroom, all dressed in their favourite tracksuits, no shoes, all three with their hair pulled up in high ponytails. Ginny had mixed up a large jug full of the Muggle cocktail she wanted Hermione and Luna to try - Pina Coladas.

'Very yummy!' said Luna approvingly, holding out her glass for a refill.

'I love the coconut flavour,' Hermione told Ginny, also holding out an empty glass.

'Harry! We need you!' called Ginny as she poured the girls' drinks, concentrating hard so that she wouldn't spill any, not easy when you'd downed three Pina Coladas in quick succession and you only had a few mouthfuls of salsa and a chocolate bar in your stomach.

Hermione and Luna raised their glasses in a toast to Ginny - congratulating her again on the opportunity she'd been given at work, followed by more laughter and giggling and squealing.

Harry, sitting in the sanctuary of the kitchen, reading the paper, felt a little nervous at the prospect of finding out what three, tipsy, giggling women might need him for.

Well, I wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, he told himself, walking out of the kitchen and down the hall to the loungeroom.

Harry couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes as he stopped in the doorway. Hermione's flat had polished, wooden floorboards throughout and in the loungeroom she'd put two large rugs - one in front of the fire place and one towards the front, near the bay window, on which the dining setting was placed.

The girls were sprawled over the two lounges in front of the fireplace - Hermione on one, Ginny and Luna on the other. The coffee table was a mess, littered with half eaten bags of potato crisps, jars of salsa and chocolate bars and empty wrappers were everywhere, along with boxes of tissues, bottles of nail polish and assorted bits and pieces that Harry, as a man, had no name for nor any clue what they were used for.

'Ah, Harry!' said Ginny, spotting him standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. He'd left his black jeans on, changing his trainers for black boots and his shirt for a light, round-necked jumper in a very deep green. His unruly black hair and his trademark glasses actually added to his appearance. 'Holy Mother of Merlin! You are one sexy man, Harry!' Ginny told him, 'Isn't he sexy, girls?' she asked, looking at Luna and Hermione in turn. Harry wished he could disappear under his invisibility cloak and slink away - tipsy, giggling women might appear harmless but he had a strong suspicion he could be in some sort of danger here against which he had no defence, despite being one of the most powerful wizards in the world.

Luna held her glass up to him, her soft voice showing the first signs of slurring. 'Deliciously sexy! But my Ronald is just that much more so!' Nope, no danger there.

Harry couldn't help himself, he turned to look at Hermione, raising one eyebrow, a crooked grin on his face, giving the appearance of humouring their Pina Colada induced comments. But in truth he was a little afraid. Afraid that'll she say she doesn't think I'm sexy. Shit, how was it that SHE managed to look so bloody sexy lying there in a pale pink tracksuit, cotton balls between each of her toes, pink nail polish glistening in the light, her glass delicately balanced while she looked at him... Holy crap! She was looking at him all right - his instinct about danger had been right - his self control was definitely in serious danger of slipping! With a rather seductive smile in place, Hermione's eyes travelled slowly up the length of his body, starting from the floor, until her eyes reached his, raising her glass in a silent toast, then she slowly winked at him. Amazing how much cheeky courage could be gained from a couple of Pina Coladas! Harry, momentarily robbed of the power of speech, managed to laugh, then pointing to his watch, he waved at them, telling them in a gruff voice to enjoy themselves, saying it was time he took his sexy self off to Ron's. He couldn't Apparate out of there fast enough.

The three girls giggled profusely, then Ginny cursed. 'I was going to ask Harry to get us some more ice and now he's gone! Bugger, I'll have to get up and do it myself now!'

Luna tossed a cushion at her, telling her she was just lazy. When she returned, they settled down to more talk.

'Hermione - have you heard anything at work about someone being released from Azkaban recently?' Ginny had told them she was up for a "real" reporting job and interview if all went well, but hadn't yet given them any further details.

Hermione screwed up her face, concentrating hard. It was difficult, not only due to the effects of the drinks she'd consumed but by the image of Harry standing in the doorway, looking as sexy as hell and giving her that irresistible smile. Ginny had said aloud precisely what she'd thought the instant he'd appeared in the doorway. And she'd actually given him the "once over"! She couldn't believe she'd lay there and done that! Shit and double shit! She'd slipped up and it was all the fault of Ginny's Pina Coladas. It was enough to drive a girl to drink...

'Hermione?' Ginny's voice interrupted her train of thought and she shook her head a little to try and clear it.

'Sorry, Ginny! These drinks are making serious inroads into my thought processes!'

'The drinks - or Harry?' asked Ginny with a slight smirk, laughing at the pained expression on Hermione's face. 'I saw the look you gave him Granger!' she cried, shaking her hand as though it had touched something hot.

'Look!' cried Luna, pointing at Hermione as she turned to Ginny. 'She's blushing!'

Hermione sat up straight, crossing her legs. It was now or never and this was the whole reason she'd organised this girls' night. She carefully placed her glass on the coffee table and looked over at her companions.

'Girls, I need your advice...'

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Harry Apparated to a point just down the road from Ron's, wanting to walk a little to collect his thoughts before facing Ron and Dean. For instance, trying to figure out what the hell was behind that look - that "checking you out and finding you sexy" look Hermione had given him! Was it just the drinks talking or... Or what? She secretly wants to shag me senseless? In your dreams, Potter! But dammit! The look in her eyes had seemed so real! He could have sworn - he was sure he'd seen... what? Desire? Love? Lust? All three! He shivered involuntarily. The thought of Hermione feeling those things for him was... exhilarating, exciting.

He'd slowly become aware in the year after that fateful night in the Department of Mysteries when he'd lost Sirius that Hermione was just as important to him as Sirius - with a slight difference of course - after all, he definitely had no desire to do to Sirius - or anyone else for that matter! - what he wanted to do to Hermione! He smiled. Ah! What he'd like to do to Hermione! It was a constant source of distraction. It had been strange at first, feeling like this for someone who'd always been just a friend - an amazing, brilliant friend - but still, just a friend. But over time he learnt to live with his newfound feelings and became accustomed to feeling one way about Hermione, but having to act another towards her. In fact, he thought with amusement, I could say I'm sort of schizophrenic when it comes to Hermione.

During his time at Hogwarts he kept expecting Hermione to say, on one of her many visits, that she'd "found" someone - had fallen in love. But she never did. Oh, sure, she'd often talk about various dates she'd gone on, sometimes going out with the same man for months, but eventually she ended up, "alone again, naturally" as she put it. He'd asked Ron what he thought about it and he'd simply offered the opinion that Hermione always found a fatal flaw with whoever was her current boyfriend; he said she was "too fussy and choosy". Harry learnt to be glad that she was. The trouble was, he'd come to love her and want her so much - yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her, not realising it was because he was afraid of rejection, a legacy of his childhood when he'd only ever been rejected, never loved or accepted. He had no idea what to do and had had no one to ask for help. If he could ask Hermione for advice, she'd no doubt tell him to read a book that gave "relationship advice" or some such thing!

And so here he was - living with her for Chrissake! It was the perfect opportunity, he knew. But to do what?! He pondered whether he could trust Ron and Dean with the information that he loved Hermione desperately and had done so for years now and needed some advice on "romantic tactics". Ron, it seemed to him, had dated and snogged every eligible witch his age so he must know SOMETHING about all this. He'd risk it. He was getting desperate. He couldn't stay at Hermione's forever, dammit, and being in such close proximity to her day in, day out, simply increased his desire to move to the "next level" with her. Yeah, right, Potter - the next level - like kissing and hugging her "good morning" as well as "good night"! He needed some advice on MOVES...whether Hermione turned him down or not, he was sick of existing in limbo - not knowing. Knowing was important - even if it was "bad news" - at least he'd be able to get on with is life. Although he didn't really want to consider a life without Hermione and he constantly had to put aside his greatest fear - that when Hermione found out how he felt, he would find out she could never see him as anything but a friend. And that would have to be the end of their friendship. He didn't want to go there...

He'd reached the door of Ron's flat and knocked sharply before entering. He'd made up his mind, he was going to talk to his friends tonight.