Four Weddings & A Funeral

As they arrived home, coughing a little from a mixture of Floo powder and soot, Harry and Hermione both straightened as they stepped out of the fireplace, facing each other, a mere couple of feet apart. Harry felt a foreign trepidation creep into his system. It was a horrible feeling - wondering if she'd be able to feel the same about him. Will she learn to trust me again? Will she love me as much? Will she want me as much?

In the time since Hermione had left to stay with her parents he'd come face to face once more with the fact that he couldn't live without her. And now that she was back, he'd do anything - whatever it took - to ensure she stayed there, with him. Always. Despite the presence during the last few hours of the closeness and affection that he'd learnt to take for granted, he felt his heart stop as he held his arms out, low and wide, not confident as he'd always been previously that she would come to him immediately. He didn't feel he had the right to take the initiative at this moment - it had to be Hermione's choice. He found he couldn't speak or even breathe properly as he stood there, waiting. The last ten days had felt like a thousand lifetimes. And now, at last, they were alone. He was in too much turmoil to read what was in her eyes, turmoil that showed in his green gaze as it rested on the woman he loved.

She took one step forward and he felt his heart begin to beat again. He waited what felt like another eternity until she took another step forward which brought her body into contact with his and the instant it did, his arms closed around her and he knew he couldn't be held responsible for his actions, especially when she lifted her head as her arms wrapped around his waist and she whispered, 'Kiss me, Harry, please ... it feels like such a long time since you really kissed me...'

As his lips covered hers he could feel the memory of every wonderful moment from their past wash over him - the soft pliancy of her body as it moulded itself to him, the indescribable sweetness of her mouth - her warmth, her smell - he groaned into her mouth uncontrollably - he would do anything at this moment - anything - to ensure she would always be with him...

'Harry?'

He felt bereft as she pulled her lips away from his. He couldn't speak - he simply looked at her and waited...

'I love you.'

His eyes closed involuntarily for a second.

'Hermione...' it was all he could manage, feeling overwhelmed by the strength of his emotions. He took a deep breath as he opened his eyes and looked into hers. 'After what I did, right now I don't feel as though I deserve your love, but -'

He couldn't finish because Hermione pressed her lips ever-so-gently against his, not in a kiss, but just to stop him speaking. 'Sssh, it's very late, it's been a traumatic night,' she said against his mouth, 'we can talk in the morning. Let's just go to b-'

Hermione couldn't finish speaking either as Harry's mouth suddenly closed over hers in a kiss that not only conveyed the extent of his relief at her being there, in his arms, loving him and wanting him, it quickly became so passionate that she felt giddy from the sensations tearing through her and they increased as one of his hands ran slowly up the curve of her back, around her shoulder and then to the side of her neck, his strong, warm fingers curling around her neck, his thumb resting just in front of her ear, gently moving back and forth, his other hand moving across her back at her waist and pulling her even more tightly against him. Their lips parted slightly and they were both breathless. Harry's voice was a hoarse whisper.

'Hermione, I will never do such a thing ever ag-' Hermione gave him a quick kiss to stop him talking then looked up at him. 'I know you won't and we will talk ourselves stupid about this tomorrow but right now please just take me to bed!'

Even if she hadn't spoken, the look in her eyes was enough and Harry's heart soared. There was no denying the desire and love that filled her beautiful, dark honey-coloured eyes as they looked straight into his. He couldn't be more aware of the tiny, instinctive movements of her hips against his now rock hard erection and he knew he wouldn't - couldn't - make it as far as their bed. He took a few unsteady steps backwards until he came up against the couch and then turned them both around, Hermione automatically sitting down when he leant forward slightly. He then knelt down in front of her and gently framed her face with his hands. Wrapping her hands around his wrists, Hermione closed her eyes as Harry's lips moved lovingly over her forehead and then her cheeks, finally lingering at each corner of her mouth. The warm, soft feeling of his lips on her skin was magical and as Hermione's eyes slowly opened it was to see Harry's wonderful green eyes gazing at her, the look in them turning every bone in her body to jelly, making her heart beat faster. Her lips parted in anticipation and a tiny gasp escaped her as that desire - that need - she had for him overcame her, becoming the only thing that mattered. She slowly lifted her hands and took off his glasses, gently tossing them aside, loving the feel of his quickening breath against her lips as his hands slipped down to rest on her shoulders.

She brought her hands up to his face, the fingers of one caressing the side of his neck, the other exploring the oh-so-familiar lines of his face, travelling gently over the slight coarseness already present along his jaw, tenderly tracing the dark smudge under his eye before she dropped them to his mouth. One finger outlined the shape of his lips and as it did, she once again looked into his eyes and for just a second she froze - no one had ever looked at her like that before. Not even this man. So much love. Tenderness. Concern. Anxiety. Fear. Hope. Desire. Lust. It was all there. And more. She breathed his name. It was barely audible but he heard her and that soft sound, filled as it was with a need and desire to equal his own, was all that was necessary to galvanise him into action.

His hands, resting on her shoulders, tightened their grip to pull her to her feet with him as he stood. Once upright, he clamped one arm around her waist to keep her against him, his other hand becoming entangled in her brown curls at the back of her head while he kissed her, unaware of the effect he was having on her - that the way he was kissing her was literally making her knees feel weak.

While Hermione felt as though she was drowning in the sensations coursing through her, Harry was immersed in myriad emotions and a sharp physical awareness of the woman in his arms. She was the source of his emotional strength and the only woman who made him feel such immeasurable desire, lust and tenderness all at once - she embodied all his emotional and physical needs. He knew he held his life in his arms.

As they pulled back to allow a small space between their lips, both breathing heavily, all Harry could manage to say was her name.

'Hermione...'

Hermione knew what was important at that moment. Pulling herself out of Harry's arms, she moved back a little and reached down to grasp the hem of her top and pull it over her head. Then she undid her jeans and pushed them down over her hips and knees, pushing them off the rest of the way with her feet and kicking her shoes off at the same time.

Harry couldn't help but stare down the length of her lovely body - the contrast of her milky, glowing skin against the black, lacy bra and matching French knickers she wore, not knowing which was more hypnotising - the enticing swell of her breasts or the mesmerising line of her stomach and hip bones that lead his eyes to that part of her he'd become so familiar with, now tantalisingly out of sight. He lifted his eyes to her face once more, seeing a small mysterious smile there - her eyes glowing. Hermione felt a little delirious. Delirious with desire, she thought. He has no idea what he does to me.

Harry reached down to lift her hands, kissing the fingers of each in turn.

Hermione's eyes closed - then she felt her hair cascading down her back as she let her head tip backwards a little, exposing the soft skin of her throat which Harry immediately responded to by leaving a trail of quick, burning kisses down the side of her neck, his hands running through her hair and then down her back, coming to rest low on her hips and pulling her against him. A soft moan escaped him at the fire that seemed to spread through his body as he pressed Hermione's firm, flat stomach against his now achingly hard erection.

Hermione once again let go of Harry, stepping back slightly as she reached around to undo her bra, dropping it at arm's length. As Harry's eyes were drawn irresistibly to Hermione's firm, white breasts, she bent over and pushed her knickers down to her ankles, then stepped out of them and kicked them aside.

Harry couldn't have said word right then if his life depended on it.

Not so Hermione. She reached forward and linked her hands behind his neck and smiled, her eyes half closed.

'Harry, you still have all your clothes on.'

This sentence penetrated, word by word, into Harry's brain and once it was processed and understood he nodded.

'You have to take them off.'

Harry nodded again. She was right, he thought dimly.

'Now, Harry, before I'm forced to tear them off you.' Her voice was breathless and slightly husky.

The effect on Harry of the mental image this conjured actually caused him to almost tear them off himself. In less than a minute they were both naked, entwined in an increasingly frenzied embrace as they kissed passionately.

'Now - Harry - please -' gasped Hermione between kisses. Harry responded to the longing in her voice, helping her to lie down on the couch and kneeling above her so that her legs were between his as he rested on his heels. Reaching forward with his arms, he let his fingers trail from Hermione's shoulders, over the swell of her breasts and then down her stomach, Hermione moaning softly at his touch, no longer in control of her body which clung to the movement of Harry's fingers, not wanting to lose contact. Harry then deftly lifted his knees and sat back, at the same time drawing her legs up so that she could wrap them around him and he was now kneeling between them, his gaze fixed on that part of her that was aching for him. She knew immediately what he intended and moaned softly. 'No, Harry - please - I just want you inside me - it seems so long -'

He leant forward on straight arms, bringing his head directly above hers as he looked down into her eyes. 'For you, anything,' he whispered and with a small smile, lowered himself, stretching out his legs, so that he was lying on top of her, her lower legs curling around his; with his weight on his elbows , he was able to support her head in his hands. Hermione wrapped her arms around his back, running her hands along the lines of the taut muscles there, drinking in the feeling. As he looked into her eyes she whispered again. 'Harry, please - now! I need you inside me now! It's been so long I can't wait!'

'God, Hermione - you have no idea what you do to me...' His voice was deep and hoarse, sending shivers throughout her body.

'Show me, Harry, show me...' she cried, pushing her hips up against the delicious weight of him, moaning longingly at the hardness they found, squirming against it - a silently passionate invitation.

He couldn't speak, so he kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as he thrust his now throbbing erection into her tight, wet, warmth, a groan torn from him at the feeling of sinking into her. He lifted his head and looked down at her, his desire increasing at the sight of her, her head, now thrown back, turning slowly from side to side - her eyes closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Then she cried out his name as her orgasm engulfed her, her back arching, her body tensing with unbearable pleasure. Then he saw no more, his own eyes closing as he felt wave after wave of indescribable ecstasy crash through him and it was his turn to cry out her name.

Rolling onto his side as a delicious exhaustion overcame him, Harry cradled her in his arms; neither was able to speak for a minute, simply looking at each other and grinning foolishly.

When his breathing was almost normal once more, Harry simply said, 'I love you,' as he pressed his lips against her forehead.

Hermione sighed contentedly and snuggled in even closer. 'I know,' she whispered back, 'I know.'

'You know everything,' he murmured.

'Only that I love you too,' she said softly.

Harry used a Summoning Charm on the throwover rug lying on the floor at the end of the couch so that it rose up and gently spread itself over them. And that's where they slept, Hermione having turned so that her back was against Harry's chest, curled up against him with his arms around her, holding her close, his face half buried in her hair, both smiling contentedly. Neither had slept so well since they were last together.

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Ginny barely stirred as Dean leant over and gently kissed her forehead. Then he straightened and looked down at her, the light from the bedside lamp illuminating her sleeping countenance. She looked peaceful. He hoped to God she was - finally, now that she was free of the influence of those accursed roses.

Madam Pomfrey had put another bed beside Ginny's so that he could stay there the night with her and be close at hand should she wake. Dean had given her very brief details and told her Dumbledore would be along later to speak to her - he felt too exhausted to explain everything himself. As always, the dedicated School Nurse asked no questions, stating she recognised the charm Dumbledore had used and told Dean it should ensure a peaceful night's sleep for Ginny and that he should get some sleep himself.

He had nodded in agreement but after she left, he instead found himself sitting beside Ginny's bed in an overstuffed armchair, watching her sleep, realising that he couldn't yet believe she was free of the curses and the nightmares they'd caused.

Malfoy.

The name alone brought a sharp, bitter, aching hatred to his heart. And a dreadful, raging jealousy. His eyes closed, his fine, dark features tensing as he once again replayed the scene from Dumbledore's office in his mind... Ginny running to Malfoy - throwing her arms around him - even resisting Malfoy's attempts to escape her embrace! He felt nauseous. He knew it was purely the influence of the roses but it didn't make that scene, now irrevocably stamped into his memory, any easier to witness. And if he never saw that damned freak Malfoy ever again it would be too soon!

Knowing he had to get some sleep and not wanting to dwell on Malfoy, he abruptly rose and walked around to the other bed, slipping under the covers without bothering to undress - if for any reason he had to get up in the middle of the night, the last thing he wanted to worry about was getting dressed.

He slid over to the extreme edge of the bed closest to Ginny and reached over so that he could rest his hand on hers. He wasn't looking forward to finding out exactly what had gone on between her and Malfoy, in dreams or reality - but he had to know the truth. He wouldn't hold her responsible - he couldn't. He just hoped she trusted him enough to tell him what she remembered. Then perhaps they could both forget about him and get on with their lives...

In contrast to the deep, healing slumber Ginny experienced, Dean had a very restless night.

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Later that night, after Dean had finally fallen asleep, Dumbledore arrived and spoke to Madam Pomfrey, fully explaining the situation to her about what had befallen Ginny.

'Not something that can be fixed in a heartbeat, unfortunately,' she said quietly to the Headmaster.

'I was afraid that would be the case,' he answered, his concerned gaze turning to rest on the sleeping figures. They were lying, facing each other, Ginny's hands in front of her and Dean's hand resting on top of them. 'Call me immediately if Miss Weasley wakes during the night, Poppy, although I don't expect her to.' After giving her instructions for the morning, the Headmaster returned to his office.

Once there, he paced slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. As he walked, he went over various situations in his mind that were causing him concern, occasionally stopping as he passed the fireplace to stare into the flames. The occupants of the various portraits in his office recognised his "thoughtful" stage and remained respectfully silent, most taking the opportunity to have a nap as usually, once the current Headmaster of Hogwarts decided it was time to talk, there was little rest for the wicked.

He was concerned about Ginny, but was confident she would eventually recover - especially taking into consideration the love and support she was receiving firstly from her fiancé and of course from her family and friends.

Even Narcissa Malfoy and her health were now no longer a major concern; tomorrow she would be here, at Hogwarts, once more reunited with the roses her son had unwittingly taken from her and passed on to the woman he himself loved. Dumbledore suspected that the absence of those roses played a large part in causing Narcissa's malady. Her son was a concern though; the old wizard didn't think it wise for him to go after his father regardless of his motive, especially since he'd had disturbing reports recently about Lucius Malfoy attempting to emulate the late Lord Voldemort, using the Dark Arts to arm himself and prolong his life. Other than that, he'd had no reports of Lucius Malfoy being involved in anything else, which Dumbledore didn't for one minute believe. A man like Lucius Malfoy would always be up to something. He just wished he knew what that something was.

He came at last to his gravest concern which lay in wondering whether the Cautus Contego Charm he and Harry had devised to protect Hermione had somehow been altered by the circumstances in which it had been activated - circumstances that had never been taken into consideration at the time he and Harry had created it. Of equal concern was the reason the Charm had been activated that night. By whom? One thing he was certain of was that it would only have been activated because Hermione was in danger - that was no false alarm.

He sighed. This would all have to come out when Harry and Hermione came to see him to discuss the "Safekeeping Charm" as they thought of it. He'd owl them tomorrow morning and arrange to see them as soon as possible. Perhaps tomorrow night. He planned on leaving early in the morning for the Burrow to speak to Molly and Arthur who would undoubtedly return to Hogwarts with him to see their daughter. Another thought came to him and he made a decision to endeavour to have all those involved come to Hogwarts tomorrow night. He needed to speak to all of them.

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Dean woke before sunrise, pleased to see Ginny still sleeping peacefully. He went in search of Madam Pomfrey to confirm that she hadn't stirred during the night.

'Indeed she did not, Mr Thomas, I'm pleased to say,' the School Nurse told him. 'Professor Dumbledore came to check on you both last night and instructed me to ask you to remain here at Hogwarts until he's able to speak to you.'

Dean nodded, a lopsided smile in place. As if I'd leave Ginny, he thought to himself.

'Also,' continued Madam Pomfrey, 'he wanted me to tell you that when he placed the charm on Miss Weasley last night, he included a temporary state of memory loss so that she wouldn't be too distressed on waking. The Professor will be here shortly after sunrise to speak to you Mr Thomas.'

Dean nodded once more in acknowledgement and returned to Ginny's bedside, watching her sleep as the rising sun gradually pushed back the darkness.

Ginny slept through the Headmaster's visit, during which he himself asked Dean to remain at Hogwarts as he was hoping to gather everyone together for a meeting that night. Dean assured him he had no intentions of going anywhere, except perhaps the Owlery to send a letter to his parents.

'By the way, Mr Thomas, Miss Weasley won't remember very much when she first wakes, but it will come back to her reasonably quickly. Just talk her through it. You'll need to stay with her, naturally. Madam Pomfrey knows what to do if Miss Weasley becomes too unsettled.'

Shortly after Dumbledore left, Ginny woke, yawning and stretching before spotting Dean sitting beside her bed in the armchair and giving him a radiant smile. Dean immediately went to sit beside her on the bed, pulling her up into his arms. Ginny threw her arms around his neck.

'Good morning!' she said happily.

'Good morning, beautiful,' he replied, his heart feeling lighter than it had for some time - this was his Ginny.

Ginny leant back then, her smile faltering as she looked around. 'Why am I in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts?' she asked, her voice incredulous.

Dean sighed, taking her hands in his.

'Do you remember coming to Hogwarts last night? To see Professor Dumbledore?' he asked gently.

Ginny frowned, then shook her head. 'I don't think so...'

'Do you remember going to bed early last night before we woke you up to come to Hogwarts?'

Ginny was frowning in concentration, her gaze on their clasped hands. 'Weren't Harry and Hermione there?'

Dean nodded as she looked up at him.

Ginny bit her lip, deep in thought. 'And Ron, too?' she murmured. Then she smiled again. 'He and Luna are engaged!'

'Yep! I think engagements are becoming contagious lately.' Ginny gave a little laugh before once more lapsing into thought.

'And Neville? Neville was there?'

'Neville too. That's everyone.'

Suddenly her whole body stiffened and she pulled her hands from Dean's grasp, clenching her fists as she put them on Dean's chest.

'Malfoy!' She almost spat the name out, sounding to Dean remarkably like Ron the previous evening.

Ginny's bright brown gaze met his, her eyes filled with anger at the memory of Malfoy.

'Malfoy did something, didn't he?' She didn't wait for an answer. 'I remember that he was there too.' Dean stood up as Ginny moved to get out of bed. As her feet touched the floor, she straightened and looked down at herself and on seeing only her bra and knickers she looked back up at Dean. 'Who undressed me?' she asked, momentarily distracted from recalling the events of the previous evening.

Leaning over and picking up a spare robe off the end of the bed that Madam Pomfrey had supplied, Dean pulled it around her shoulders and smiled as he drew her to him. 'I did,' he told her.

Ginny slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. 'That's good.'

They stood there like that for some minutes. Dean knew she was recalling the events of the night before; he could feel the tension building in her body as he held her in his arms.

'Dean?' That one word contained a wealth of horror and humiliation, both of which were mirrored in her eyes as she looked up at him. His heart ached for her.

'Malfoy - I - oh sweet mother of Merlin! I actually ran to him!' She stepped away from Dean then, wrapping her arms around herself, unable to look at him, her face pale.

Dean grasped her upper arms, bringing her back to him. 'If you remember that, you'll remember it was only because of those bloody roses he gave you!'

Ginny crumpled against him and he put his arms around her once more, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He could feel her beginning to cry. It was going to be a long day.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Harry woke first, immediately aware of Hermione still curled up against him, just as she'd been when they'd fallen asleep the night before. She was home. She was with him. She was here. Almost unbearable joy swept through him and he unconsciously tightened his arms around her, causing Hermione to stir in her sleep. Loosening his grip, Harry ran his hand along her side, up over her shoulder, then gently moved her hair aside so that he could place a soft, loving kiss her on the side of her neck. He felt the pressure of Hermione's shoulder as she reacted to his kiss, murmuring his name although she was still half asleep. He continued to kiss her, then propped himself up on his elbow so that he could continue the trail of kisses across to her shoulder, his hand letting go of her hair and sliding down under her arm and around to cup her breast. He was already achingly hard, but he wanted to savour every moment, every little sound and sensation.

Her eyes still closed, Hermione smiled as she came to the realisation that Harry was right there, with her. She could feel him move aside a little so that she was able to roll over onto her back. She looked up at him, her eyes still cloudy with sleep, a sweet smile on her lips. He kissed her lightly and whispered, 'I love you.'

He felt her hand on his shoulder before it moved up to rest tenderly on the side of his face.

'I love you too,' she whispered back. 'And it's so good to be home.'

Hermione then rolled on her side to face him, pressing the full length of her body against him. Harry wrapped his arm around her waist and held her there while he kissed her. Hermione then slid her leg up and over Harry's, using it to pull herself against him and making slow, small circular motions with her hips, moaning softly from the pleasurable feelings caused by rubbing herself against his hard erection. Harry decided he'd had enough of savouring moments and sensations - and manoeuvred himself onto his back with Hermione lying on top, her legs each side of him. Hermione quickly pulled her knees forward and sat back on Harry's legs, lifting her hands to push her hair away from her face, her eyes fixed on his. Harry lost no time in sliding his hands up to Hermione's breasts, kneading them gently. 'You are so beautiful,' he whispered gruffly. Suddenly, Hermione let out a little scream as an owl flew out of the chimney, coming to land on the floor beside the couch, looking expectantly up at them.

Harry groaned. Hermione giggled.

'Better an owl than someone Flooing us!' she told Harry merrily as she leant down and took the rolled parchment from the owl's pouch. 'I'm sorry, I haven't got anything to give you,' she told it regretfully, after which it gave a slightly dismal hoot and flew back up the chimney.

'Hermione -' began Harry, intending to voice his opinion of this untimely interruption, wanting to get back to what they were doing immediately - needing to get back to it!

But Hermione had unrolled the parchment and he could see her eyes scanning it. Harry squirmed impatiently, Hermione appearing to ignore the movement as she spoke. Of all times for Hermione to succumb to her inherent need to read!

'It's from Dumbledore. He wants us at Hogwarts this evening for a meeting of some sort.' She paused, reading further. 'He says to owl him if we can't make it but asks that we make every effort to be there tonight.'

'Hermione -' groaned Harry, but he was interrupted by Hermione leaning down and kissing him. Then she lifted her head slightly as she tossed the parchment aside, all the while making sure her hardened nipples were brushing against his chest, her voice low and husky. 'Now, where were we? I think we have a little unfinished business here...'