Four Weddings & A Funeral

Chapter Eleven

They drained their glasses simultaneously and put them back on the desk. Then a collective gasp was heard around the room...

Because Sunny stayed Sunny and Lucky stayed Lucky.

Most faces held confusion, including Sunny's; everyone had expected one of their number to be revealed as the impostor, so what did this mean? It was only Professor Dumbledore, Neville, Harry and Hermione who shared quick glances filled with dread - because they alone realised immediately what it meant to be proven wrong.

Dumbledore leaned down and whispered something in Madam Bones' ear, then once again the chime sounded and silence fell.

'Please, everyone, it's all right,' announced the Head. 'Despite the fact that we expected a different result from this meeting, the Department will endeavour to deal with this quickly and efficiently. I urge you all to maintain your normal routines at both work and home whilst taking precautions at the same time to ensure the identity of those closest to you. And please refrain from discussing this matter with anyone unless you are completely positive about their identity.'

Neville stood up then and made his way to the front, carrying a large, black leather pouch.

'Neville is going to give each of you a phial of Invenios Elixir. Keep it with you at all times and use it as necessary. I don't believe anyone should resent having to take it if asked if they are who they appear to be. When you need more, come personally to see me or Neville.'

Neville pulled open the drawstring on the pouch and began handing out small, blue phials as each person came up to him. As each received their phial, they left, talking quietly and comfortably amongst themselves only because they knew, at least for the time being, they were all who they appeared to be; once they separated, they could no longer be so sure when they next met. Neville was reassuring Priscilla in low tones, seeing her off before returning to stand with Harry and Hermione in front of the Head's desk. The three of them, who had remained behind at the professor's request, waited until the door closed behind the last person to leave before speaking.

'Please,' said Madam Bones as she took her own chair, 'all of you, sit down.'

They did so, although Professor Dumbledore chose to remain standing to the left of the desk near the fireplace; he waited until he had everyone's attention, then spoke.

'It appears we were wrong, which pains me and not for the fact of being wrong, but that this means we have lost time while those involved in wrongdoing have gained that time. It would appear that the impostor has not taken one particular person's place here in the Ministry, but is simply impersonating whoever may be necessary to accomplish their goals. Would you agree?'

He looked around at all of them, including the Head, as they nodded, murmuring assent.

'What are we going to do?' asked Harry, his voice tense.

The old wizard sighed. 'I'm afraid, Harry, there's not a lot we can do at this point, aside from each of us being on our guard all the time. Being sure of each other's identity is going to have to become our first priority and second nature.'

'Whoever's doing this must have a stockpile of people's hair - or similar - to be able to do it,' said Hermione thoughtfully.

For some reason, Hermione's words caused an image to flash into Neville's mind - of Lucky, in his office the previous morning - hanging up his cloak - picking lint off it - and perhaps hairs? But then, Lucky had just been proven to be Lucky. 'Dear Merlin!' he suddenly exclaimed.

'Yes, Mr Longbottom?' inquired Dumbledore.

Neville told them what he'd just remembered, adding, 'But I've just realised - while he may have been Lucky this afternoon - it doesn't mean that was Lucky in my office yesterday morning.'

'Precisely, unfortunately,' came Madam Bones' clipped tones. 'Such a possibility is something we all need to be constantly aware of from now on.'

'I think,' said Dumbledore quietly, 'we should agree to a signal, here and now, between the five of us. Harry, our old signal of "abscondo/aperio" will do, I think, as only we here know of it. When it is necessary to check the identity of any of us in this room, one simply says "abscondo" and the other is to reply with "aperio".'

Everyone agreed, although Hermione felt compelled to ask what the words mean.

Dumbledore smiled indulgently at Hermione over his spectacles. 'They're Latin words, Miss Granger. "Abscondo" means to hide or conceal, "aperio" means to reveal or make clear.'

'Rather appropriate I guess,' replied Hermione, returning the professor's smile.

Neville stood up. 'All right, everyone - I really need to get back to my office.'

'Me too,' said Hermione as she and Harry both stood together, Harry saying he'd walk back with her.

As they stepped out of the Head's office and Neville pulled the door closed behind them, Hermione remembered something.

'Neville - I asked Sunny about that Death Eater, Mulciber - as to why he's in St Mungo's - and he told me I should ask you. So what's wrong with him?'

Neville suddenly looked uncomfortable, giving Harry a quick glance; Harry's expression was a mixture of puzzlement and interest.

'Well, apparently that night that we captured them - you remember?' he asked unnecessarily, 'It appears that whatever spell you hit them with Harry seems to have left permanent after effects on Mulciber. For reasons we can't fathom, Jugson hasn't been affected but Mulciber - well, he's not himself.'

Both Harry and Hermione stared back at Neville when he'd finished speaking.

'Not himself?' repeated Harry. 'What does that mean?'

Neville shrugged. 'He's alive. But he's wildly inconsistent - one day he'll appear almost normal - almost, but not quite - the next day he won't utter a single word and he flies into rages for no reason...'

Hermione had unthinkingly moved closer to Harry, taking his hand in silent support.

'And I did that?' he asked incredulously.

'Well, that's the Healer's thoughts when I spoke to her - there doesn't seem to be any other explanation. He was actually all right the night of his capture but he began to worsen from the next day onwards. Jugson was petrified of being in the same room with him although actually I think he was more terrified that the same fate awaited him.'

Harry looked stunned. 'I did that?' he repeated. He glanced down at Hermione, his eyes full of painful uncertainty.

Neville grasped Harry's arm reassuringly. 'Harry, if it was the spell you used on him, it's not as though you cast it intending to do this, you were under tremendous strain at that point -' his eyes flicked momentarily to Hermione who was listening avidly, 'and no one would ever blame you.'

'What spell was it?' Hermione asked Harry softly.

Harry shrugged, shaking his head. 'I don't know,' he replied, 'I don't remember.' Not a night I want to remember, he thought to himself.

Neville, who was still grasping Harry's arm, squeezed gently then let go.

'It's all right, Harry. He'd've ended up in Azkaban at any rate, which would be no better than his current condition - worse, probably.'

Harry nodded, still looking slightly aghast at what he'd inadvertently done. Hermione wished she'd asked Neville when Harry wasn't around. But then, I'd've had to tell him, anyway, she thought. Better it comes from Neville who knows a little more about it.

'Come on, Harry, let's go,' she said, tugging on his hand. 'Thanks Neville.'

Neville gave her a small smile, though his tone was serious. 'Don't worry about a bloody Death Eater - just worry about yourselves,' he said.

Almost two weeks later, on a cool October Monday morning, Harry and Hermione were sitting in a crowded Courtroom Ten, deep beneath the Ministry of Magic. The crowd was mainly due to the fact that this trial involved one of the Death Eaters who had kidnapped Hermione and knowing she'd be present, they were hoping that Harry would also be there, which of course he was. He and Hermione sat in the last, highest row and Harry assiduously avoided making eye contact with any of the curious wizards and witches who kept looking up at him, some surreptitiously (or so they thought), some simply staring at him outright; instead, he concentrated on his conversation with Hermione.

'It's certainly very different from the last time I was here,' Harry said quietly to Hermione, alluding to the hearing he'd had to attend in his fifth year at Hogwarts. The Ministry had recently refurbished the whole of Level Ten, ensuring it was also accessible using the lifts, but the biggest improvement was the addition of enchanted windows, even in the courtrooms themselves. Magical Maintenance, however, seemed to feel that sombreness was nevertheless required in courtrooms if the vista of overcast, empty countryside was anything to go on.

The dark stone walls had been painted a stern white and while the torches in brackets remained, they'd doubled in number so that the old dungeon was fully lit. Comfortable cushioning had been placed on the benches and the accused no longer had to sit in a chair with chains. Rather, they now stood in something similar to the Muggle stand, facing the panel of wizards and witches who would interrogate, judge and sentence them as well as anyone else sitting in the tiered seating behind the panel.

Harry and Hermione watched as the Head of Magical Law Enforcement strode into the courtroom, six other witches and wizards in her wake, and took their seats in the front row, facing the stand which now contained a very nervous Jugson, flanked on either side by two stony-faced Hit Wizards. Hermione thought it would be rather unnerving to stand there, the focus of every eye in the room; she glanced sideways at Harry, wondering again at his courage in this same situation all those years ago, although with much darker undertones running through the proceedings then - and he'd only been fifteen...

The proceedings took no longer than an hour; Amelia Bones had presided in lieu of the Minster for Magic (who was, it was whispered, enjoying a rather sumptuous holiday and wasn't tempted to interrupt it for a mere trial...) and she, with six other officials of the Ministry, questioned Jugson who appeared relieved to finally have his incarceration in the Ministry's cells at an end.

At the close of proceedings, Harry turned to Hermione and whispered as Jugson was led away, 'He'll think the Ministry was paradise compared to Azkaban, even without the Dementors being there.' Jugson had been sentenced to twenty years' imprisonment in Azkaban, a term he knew he'd have to be extremely lucky to survive.

As they began to make their way out of the courtroom, Neville, who'd been sitting in the row behind his Head, waved to them. Harry and Hermione walked up to him, all three of them smiling.

'Abscondo,' said Harry softly.

'Aperio,' replied Neville, just as softly.

'Neville,' asked Hermione, 'have you heard anymore about - anything?'

Neville shook his head. 'No. I don't know whether Malfoy is just lying low or whether this is just a natural lull in his operation whilst they gather information - or whether they're waiting for a particular time or event.' He sighed. 'It's bloody unnerving. I feel as though I'm walking around in a den of sleeping dragons.'

'Listen, why don't we all get together this Friday?' suggested Hermione. 'I think we should all have a night of - well, just enjoying ourselves and not thinking about this whole situation for a few hours. What do you say?'

Harry dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head. 'Another brilliant idea from the mind of Miss Hermione Granger,' he quipped, smiling. 'You haven't forgotten the family lunch at the Burrow this Sunday?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No - but this is just for the eight of us.'

Neville nodded, grinning. 'I say yes! Where?'

'Our place,' said Harry promptly. 'Safer, too. That okay love?' he asked, looking at Hermione.

'Absolutely! I'll get in touch with the others - I'm sure they'll all be in it.'

And so they were. Which saw Harry and Hermione's flat the following Friday evening echoing with the conversations and laughter of their friends; the only concession to the current situation had been the taking of Invenios Elixir once everyone was present, after which they threw themselves into relaxation and fun.

Harry had, as usual, prepared the food - this time "finger food" that could be picked at from the table whenever someone felt like something - the hot food kept hot, the cold food cold, by magic, naturally.

Dean had set himself up at one end of the dining table as an impromptu barman, creating exotic mixes with rather amusing names.

'What's this?' Priscilla asked him, peering uncertainly into the red liquid with a black swirl in the centre.

'A Blast-Ended Skrewt - carries a real sting!' Dean told her.

'And mine?' asked Luna, taking her glass from Dean.

'A Doxy's Delight. Not for fairies or the fainthearted.'

Luna looked sceptically at the swirling brown concoction in her glass which, while it smelt a lot like chocolate, must also harbour something more sinister, she was sure.

'And what, my darling husband, are you plying me with?' asked Ginny, smiling at him.

Dean dropped a quick kiss on her forehead before replying, 'For you, my love, a Bubbling Bat Bogey.'

Luna laughed long and loud at this and was in danger of spilling her drink. 'Watch it!' said Ron, as he came up beside her and relieved her of her glass. He too, was chuckling at Dean's wit and

Ginny gave her husband's arm a playful swipe before accepting the glass of bubbling brown liquid with yellow specks.

'Hermione! Come and get yours!' called Dean. Hermione, who had been sitting on the couch at the other end of the room talking with Harry, rolled her eyes in mock-exasperation but obeyed.

'What have you come up with for me?' she asked Dean, smiling expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

'Nothing less than a Harry-on-a-Hippogriff!' he announced grandly, at which Hermione dissolved into uncontrollable giggles, unable to take the glass of creamy liquid with a lightning shaped sprinkle of some brown substance on top for fear of spilling it.

Harry marched up beside Hermione, grinning. 'Do the blokes get drinks too?' he asked Dean.

'Yeah - Butterbeer or firewhisky!'

'Just as well, I'd say,' said Neville as he watched Priscilla sip tentatively at her drink.

'Mmmm!' was Priscilla's appreciative comment. 'Delicious, Dean! A Blast-Ended Skrewt indeed!'

Once Dean had also handed the men a drink each, Harry and Hermione returned to their place on the couch facing the fireplace. Ron and Luna sat on the other lounge, a Wizard's Chess board between them. 'Let me teach you how to play,' Ron told her, happily imagining how he'd impress his fiancée with his strategic genius.

Neville and Priscilla sat at the table with Ginny and Dean, happily discussing a variety of subjects - but not once bringing up the current situation.

'So, what does Harry-on-a-Hippogriff taste like?' asked Harry, highly amused.

Hermione took a sip of the creamy liquid then delicately licked her lips. 'Mmmm...hard to describe...'

Harry tilted her chin up with a gentle finger then leant down and kissed her slowly.

As he pulled back, he smiled, licked his lips and said, 'I taste rather nice, don't you think?'

Hermione groaned, although she was still smiling. 'I think I'm the better judge of that,' she told Harry, taking another sip of the delicious drink, her eyes smiling at him over the rim of her glass.

Harry slid his right arm around Hermione's shoulders. 'I know better than to argue with you,' he replied.

'Smart man,' said Ron from the other lounge, frowning down at the chess pieces, some of which were tapping their feet impatiently; those that had feet, at any rate; there was also a murmur of discontent rising from the board at the prolonged delay. He glanced up at Luna. 'I keep forgetting you were in Ravenclaw,' he told her, sounding a little put out.

'What's the matter, Ron? Luna too good for you?' asked Hermione.

'She's better than Harry and this is her first game!' Ron sounded distinctly disgruntled.

'Ron's met his match in more than one way, I'd say,' Harry said loudly to Hermione.

'Ha ha,' Ron sarcastically as Luna laughed yet again.

'Honey,' said Luna, 'just concentrate on the game or you'll lose!'

'Not if I can help it,' mumbled Ron under his breath and poked his Rook, telling it to move, causing applause to break out amongst the other pieces - those with hands, at any rate.

Harry glanced up at Ginny, Dean, Neville and Priscilla, all still engrossed in their conversation which was regularly interspersed with laughter.

'Definitely a great idea you had, love,' he told Hermione, 'Everyone's enjoying themselves.'

'Including us,' said Hermione as she snuggled into Harry's shoulder, levitating her empty glass to the coffee table.

Harry turned and kissed Hermione's forehead. 'I think the evening's going to be even more enjoyable once -'

Ginny suddenly appeared, leaning over the back of the couch. 'Once we all join in a game of Magician's Twister,' she told them.

'Not quite what I had in mind,' said Harry ironically, his eyes finding Hermione's, sending a signal only Hermione could interpret - she knew what he had in mind and she felt her pulse rise. Why is it, she thought, that he can make me feel like this just with one of those looks? Softly laying her hand on the side of his face, she whispered, 'Don't worry - I won't forget what you had in mind.'

Harry gave her a smile that made her heart race and she slipped her hand around the back of his neck, drawing his head down so that she could kiss him.

Ginny gave a snort that was at least lady-like. 'Oh, please! At least wait till you're alone you two!' she cried. 'Come on everyone - Magician's Twister!'

While everyone groaned at Ginny's enthusiastic suggestion, they nevertheless joined in the Muggle game that the Wizarding world had taken to heart, adding their own magical twist. No Muggle would've believed their eyes, but suffice to say that the ability to levitate, together with the advantages inherent in owning a wand, made for a very interesting version of the old Muggle classic...

Half an hour later, from beneath the tangle of arms and legs in the middle of Harry and Hermione's loungeroom, came a strangled cry.

'Let me out! I'm parched! I need a drink! Tea! I need tea!' It was Neville, struggling to speak through his laughter.

His plea had a domino effect as one after the other, various other voices emanated from the laughing human tangle.

'Me too!'

'YES! Excellent idea!'

'Coffee for me, please!'

They were all soon seated around the dining table, a cup of tea or coffee sitting in front of them, revelling in the sheer silliness of the game and happily accusing each other of cheating until the conversation eventually turned to other topics.

In one of those moments when someone in a group says something and for some inexplicable reason a sudden silence falls, Ginny asked Neville and Priscilla what had made them decide so quickly to get married.

Neville looked discomfited as everyone, on hearing Ginny speak, turned and waited expectantly for the reply.

'Well,' said Neville, glancing around at his friends and looking embarrassed, 'I guess it's one of the side effects of my job. Without even realising it, I've come to feel that nothing should be put off because of what-might-happen. You just never know when things might change. I don't mean you should become irresponsible about things or to use it as an excuse to do something reckless - but with something like this -', he reached over and took Priscilla's hand in his, '- I don't want to have any regrets. I don't want to wake up one morning and, Merlin forbid, find my world in pieces,' meaning if something happened to Priscilla although he was loath to actually say it aloud, 'and spend the rest of my life wishing I'd done what we're doing - getting married. It's not an impulsive decision - it's a choice we've both made because we truly believe that whether it's next week, next month or five years from now, this is what we'd want - to be together.' As he finished speaking, Neville lifted Priscilla's hand and pressed his lips to the back of it; Priscilla's eyes were shining with tears although she had a radiant smile on her face.

The short silence that followed was due to everyone being spellbound by Neville's unaccustomed eloquence. Then Harry spoke, raising his hand in which he held his cup, in Neville and Priscilla's direction in salute.

'Hear, hear, my friend,' with feeling.

Everyone else followed suit, their voices muted; they understood, now more than ever, what had prompted Neville to follow his heart.

Priscilla was speechless. As she smiled at Neville - who still had her hand so close to his mouth she could feel his warm breath - she knew this was a special moment. For Neville to make such a proclamation in front of friends - well, she thought her heart would burst.

'I love you,' she whispered, 'more than you'll ever know.'

Neville clasped her hand in his, holding it against his cheek. 'And I love you, my beautiful lady,' he told her.

'Talking of weddings - hey, Ron!' called Harry, 'Have you and the new Queen of Chess set the date yet for tying the knot?' Ron and Luna had been telling everyone for some time now that they would follow Ginny and Dean's example and go ahead with their wedding plans regardless of the "current situation" as Neville was wont to call it; as with Ginny and Dean's wedding, Neville was concerned about security with such a large gathering although he was keeping his concerns to himself for the moment.

Luna clapped her hands in delight. 'Ronald and I have finalised the arrangements for our nuptials just this week! My father's been to see Ron's mum and dad at the Burrow and - well, you tell them honey,' she finished, smiling happily at Ron.

Ron, looking terribly proud of himself, stood up to address his friends, beaming happily.

'Well, we've spoken to Luna's dad and he's happy for us to have our wedding at home - at the Burrow - for which we're very thankful, considering mum and dad are still recovering from Ginny and Dean's little do.' Hoots of laughter greeted this remark. 'We were actually going to make our official announcement when we all got together this Sunday at the Burrow for our family lunch but I think this is a good time to tell our closest friends. So, four weeks from tomorrow, on Sunday the 23^rd of November, Luna Lovegood will become Luna Weasley and make me the happiest man on earth!'

Amongst cries of congratulations, Luna jumped up and threw her arms around Ron's neck, Ron instinctively wrapping his arms around his fiancée, a huge smile plastered on his face.

'This,' announced Dean, raising his voice to be heard over the hubbub, 'calls for a celebratory toast!'

'I'll drink to that!' cried Ron happily.

And so once again Dean became "barman', dispensing glasses of champagne graciously conjured up by Harry - glasses that kept refilling themselves, much to the chagrin of Hermione.

'Harry! You know I like to keep track of how much I've drunk - I always finish a glass before refilling it for that very reason - but with this glass - !' Her exasperation was evident, despite her smile.

'Oh, I don't know about that Miss Granger,' said Harry, a wicked gleam in his eye. 'I seem to recall a night - in this very room, actually - when you, Ginny and Luna were all lying around doing your nails or some such feminine thing and you managed to drink enough to become, shall we say, a little merry! I doubt very much you were capable of counting anything that night and I seem to recall taking care of you the next day when you were recovering -'

Hermione groaned and drew her hand across her brow theatrically.

'Don't remind me, please! I remember I felt awful the next day!' Hermione groaned again. She remembered too well now how she'd lay there and actually ogled Harry before he'd left to go out and Ginny telling him he was very sexy... 'I plead innocence - it was all Ginny's fault making those damn drinks so strong!'

'Innocence?' scoffed Harry. 'The way you looked at me that night was anything but innocent as I recall!'

Hermione sighed then smiled sheepishly, 'I didn't think you'd have noticed.'

'Oh, I noticed!' laughed Harry. 'How could I not notice you checking me out like that? Made me feel all hot and bothered - a bit like I do now actually...'

'And looking at me like that is guaranteed to make me feel hot and bothered!' retorted Hermione, her heart beating a little faster at the look in his Harry's eyes.

They were still seated at the table and Harry slid his arm across Hermione's shoulders, dropping his head to touch his forehead to hers.

'I've been rather hot and bothered over you all night my love,' he told her, his voice husky with desire.

Hermione smiled suggestively at him. 'You think you've been hot and bothered...once everyone's gone I'll show you the real meaning of hot and bothered, Mr Potter.'

Hermione's low, seductive tones seemed to travel along every erotic pathway Harry possessed; his breathing ceased momentarily as he gazed into the honey-coloured depths of her eyes.

'D'you think,' he whispered with difficulty, 'they would notice if we just left?'

'Sadly, yes. I'm afraid we're stuck here till they leave.'

'Damn! How we can get them all out really quickly? Any ideas?'

Hermione laughed. 'Not one! I'm too busy thinking about you and what I'm going to do to you-'

'Stop! You're teasing me now, evil witch.'

'No mercy, Mr Potter - you know me.'

Ron's voice prevented any further talk as he stood and waved his arms above his head to attract everyone's attention.

'I forgot a few things everyone! Luna's just reminded me! Firstly, Harry - you haven't forgotten you're my best man, have you?'

'Not likely!' replied Harry as he rose from his chair and walked around to where Ron stood, holding out his hand to his first and oldest friend. As their hands met in a warm handshake, Harry smiled at Ron. 'It's my pleasure and honour, mate, you know that.'

Ron could only nod, his throat feeling oddly tight.

As Harry resumed his seat, Ron cleared his throat and told everyone he was going to ask Fred and George to be his groomsmen. Then Luna stood up and slipped her arm through Ron's as she smiled shyly around the table, her warm, silvery gaze coming to rest on Ginny.

'Well, I don't have any sisters but we've known each other for quite a while now and you have been my closest friend - you always stood up for me - and I'm hoping that you will be my Maid of Honour.'

Ginny jumped up, shrieking in delight as she ran to Luna and hugged her.

'Of course I will!'

As they stood, their arms around each other's waist, Luna continued.

'And I'd really love it if you, Hermione and you, Priscilla, would be my bridesmaids.'

Hermione clapped her hands in delight, quickly moving around the table to hug Luna.

Priscilla sat looking happily stunned until encouraged by the other girls to join them.

As she hugged Luna, Priscilla told her, 'Thank you for asking me, Luna, I can hardly believe it! After never being in a wedding party before, now I've been in two!'

'Ditto!' laughed Luna.

A little later, after animated discussions about the wedding, Neville and Priscilla singled out Harry and Hermione to say good night.

After shaking hands with Harry then giving Hermione a hug, Neville thanked them for a great night.

'Oi! Wait a minute!' cried Ron, quickly joining them. 'Would you two be able to come to lunch on Sunday?' he asked. 'Since Priscilla's going to be a bridesmaid I know mum'll want her there. Starts at midday.'

Neville looked down at Priscilla, questioning her silently. Her lovely blue eyes were still full of delight at being included in Ron and Luna's wedding as she smiled up at him, nodding.

'Looks like we'll see you there mate!'

Ron clapped him on the back. 'Great! See you then.'

Shortly afterwards, Dean and Ginny departed, followed quickly by a tired but happy Ron and Luna. Harry tidied up with a wave of his hand, doing the same as they passed the kitchen on their way to bed.

As he lay in bed waiting for Hermione to emerge from the bathroom, Harry put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and smiling to himself as he thought about the wonderful time they'd all had that night; it had certainly brought them out from under the cloud that had been hovering over their lives recently. Although I'm about to have an even better time, he thought to himself smugly as he heard the bathroom door close and the soft sound of Hermione's feet as she walked to the bed. Harry didn't move, enjoying his own, intense anticipation as he felt Hermione slip into bed, drawing the duvet over herself.

When Hermione pulled herself up on her elbow and dropped a sweet kiss on his cheek, murmuring, 'Night, dear,' before lying down again, Harry's eyes flew open, followed by a few seconds in which it registered what Hermione had just done and said.

'What?' croaked Harry. Where the hell had hot and bothered Hermione gone?

Some rather strange sounds broke the spell of shock and he realised they were coming from Hermione who had turned on her side away from him.

'Hermione?'

Hermione rolled onto her back and Harry realised the strange sounds had been suppressed laughter. Hermione was laughing properly now causing Harry to feel a little put out.

'I couldn't resist! Oh, Harry, I'm s-s-', but Hermione was unable to speak for a minute until her laughter became giggles which dissolved to a cheekily mischievous smile with a wicked gleam in her eye, just visible to Harry in the last of the moonlight streaming through the window.

Harry had rolled onto his side and up onto his elbow, looking down at Hermione with exasperation.

'Hermione Jane Granger - you are -'

'Horny,' stated Hermione as she slid closer to Harry, her arm winding around his waist. Harry resisted the temptation to reciprocate with his free hand, deciding he wasn't going to capitulate quite that quickly after being laughed at.

'Horny?' repeated Harry. 'What happened to "hot and bothered"?' he demanded, stalling for time. Hermione sensed his enforced reticence and smiled as her hand left Harry's waist and wandered up and around to his chest, her nails scraping lightly across the tensed muscles. Harry could feel his resolve crumbling, helped along by the one part of his anatomy which seemed to have a mind of its own and an insolent disregard for his authority. The next second Harry drew in a sharp breath as he felt Hermione press the whole length of her body against his and he realised she was also completely naked. Still, he made no move, wanting to make her wait a little longer although it was killing him in the process!

'Oh, I left hot and bothered behind hours ago,' she said in a low, husky voice, 'and moved right along to horny.' She was aware that Harry was deliberately holding back and was quite happy to play along.

Harry groaned softly. He wouldn't last much longer but he intended to go down fighting.

Then Hermione pressed her hips against his. 'We're a perfect fit, aren't we?' whispered Hermione, her voice low and breathy, 'I'm horny and you're hard.'

Harry couldn't prevent the low growl he uttered and knew he was lost - the feel of Hermione's body, the smell of her fragrance and the desire in her voice swept away everything but his overwhelming need to possess her. His arm seemed to move of its own accord, wrapping around Hermione's waist, his weight causing her to roll onto her back so that he was able to position himself above her. Their eyes met for a split second, both filled with intense desire and then he kissed her, his hand sliding into her soft curls, cradling her head as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, drawing a soft moan from her. Hermione wrapped her arms around him, one leg curling around Harry's as she instinctively ground herself against him, greedy for the hardness she encountered, her movements making Harry feel sure that he'd never been this hard before.

Hermione pulled back from the kiss, 'Harry,' she murmured, her voice husky with desire, 'I mean it - I've been thinking about you - us - all night and I need you now! Please! ' emphasising her words by pushing even harder against Harry's now aching erection.

'Are you sure?' Harry's voice was thick with his own desperate need.

'Yes!' cried Hermione, wrapping both her legs around Harry so that he was able to plunge into her, the heat and wetness that enveloped him driving all coherent thought from his mind. Hermione's back arched convulsively and the sensation of her breasts with their hardened nipples pressing into his chest was the last straw; Harry surrendered to the ecstasy that swept through him hardly able to believe how it intensified when he heard his name cried out and knew Hermione had joined him.

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

'Seamus Finnigan's coming? I don't believe it!' cried Hermione as she placed her goblet of pumpkin juice back on the table.

Dean smiled across the table at her looking very happy. 'Yep! He'll be here the Friday before the wedding. I'm really looking forward to seeing him again.' Seamus had been Dean's best mate at Hogwarts.

Mrs Weasley, who was busy with her wand directing platters of food to the middle of the table, inquired, 'So he'll be here for the wedding then, I take it?' They were all seated inside as the autumn weather was beginning to turn a little too chilly for outdoor eating; instead, they simply used magic to expand the table to a size that would accommodate the number of people present.

'If that's all right with you Mum, of course,' said Dean.

Molly nodded as her husband spoke from the head of the table. 'Of course it is. What's Seamus been doing, Dean? Didn't his mother keep him out of Hogwarts, Seventh Year?'

Dean, who was eyeing his food hungrily, nodded at his father-in-law. 'She was pretty paranoid - you know how it was our Seventh Year. He ended up getting a job at St Mungo's and he's now the Apprentice Team Healer for the Kenmare Kestrels - the Irish team. He's spent most of his time in Ireland living in Kenmare and training with the Team Healer - a nice bloke, name of Aidan O'Tillotson, I've met him a couple of times. He's planning on retiring in a couple of years and Seamus sounds really excited about taking over. It's been harder for him, not having finished at Hogwarts; his mum didn't realise.'

Priscilla looked questioningly at Neville who leaned over to tell her quietly, 'Team Healers are the equivalent of Muggle Physiotherapists. Dean knows about all this because he's the Team Healer for the Wigtown Wanderers - the Quidditch team,' he added hastily, aware that Priscilla's knowledge of the world of Quidditch was probably not large.

Hermione remembered how she'd been angry at Seamus back in their Fifth Year due to his falling out with Harry - but that Seamus had insisted on remaining at Hogwarts in defiance of his mother's wishes and had even eventually joined Harry's unofficial Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

'Does he still look the same?' she asked Dean, remembering Seamus' usually friendly face and sandy hair.

Dean shrugged. 'He looks like Seamus.'

Hermione, along with the rest of the girls, groaned.

'Dean!' cried Ginny, 'You're so unobservant! You saw Seamus - he Flooed you! I can't believe you can't describe what he looks like now,' Ginny finished.

'Yes I did!' protested Dean.

'"He looks like Seamus" is not a description!' Ginny replied, exasperation in her voice.

Dean good-naturedly accepted the quips and criticisms thrown his way, telling everyone they'd "see for themselves" that he was right in a few weeks' time.

'All right everyone! Time to eat!' called Mrs Weasley, a command obeyed with enthusiasm by one and all. What Molly called a "family Sunday lunch" was a bit of a misnomer if you wanted to be precise because not every Weasley family member could attend every family lunch. For instance, this particular lunch saw the absence of Bill and Fleur (holidaying in Romania with Charlie and "trying to make babies" as Ginny succinctly put it), Fred and George were also missing due to work demands ('I wonder what the names are of the "work demands"?' asked Ron cynically of Luna, rolling his eyes) and Charlie, of course, was hatching his latest batch of dragon eggs. As for Percy - well, the less said the better.

Once the plates had been cleared away, talk turned once more to the wedding as was inevitable.

At one point, Ginny got up and walked around to Harry and Hermione, leaning over between them, an elbow on the back of each of their chairs.

'I was wondering,' she told them, 'whether we shouldn't organise some sort of get together on the Friday night before the wedding since Seamus will be here - just us, not Mum and Dad - to celebrate the end of Ron's bachelorhood and Luna's whatever-you-call-it!'

'Spinsterhood,' replied Hermione promptly without even thinking.

'Ugh!' exclaimed Ginny.

Hermione laughed. 'It does sound ugly, you're right - we won't use that word again!'

'Where should we go?' asked Harry.

Ginny shrugged. 'I'm open to ideas.'

Hermione looked thoughtful. 'How many people will there be?' she asked Ginny, even as she began calculating in her head and Ginny began listing names, 'Us four,' she began, referring to herself and Dean, Hermione and Harry, 'Ron and Luna, Fred and George, Neville and Priscilla, Seamus - that's it!'

'Eleven,' said Hermione as she looked at Harry, raising one eyebrow in an unspoken question.

Harry rolled his eyes, smiling all the while. He looked from Hermione to Ginny and said, 'Yes, we can have it at our place!'

Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands.

'We need to do some "decorating", don't you think?' asked Ginny, her eyes alight with glee.

'Absolutely!' replied Hermione. 'What about...'

Harry shook his head, still smiling, and left Hermione and Ginny to their excited planning, Ginny slipping into his vacated seat without giving him a glance or pausing in what she was saying. He walked around and sat down with Dean and Ron who were patiently listening to Luna's description of various aspects of the wedding day.

'Hey, Luna,' said Harry, 'Hermione and Ginny are planning some sort of super do for you and Ron -' and before he'd even finished, Luna was up, saying, 'Really?' in a breathless voice as she headed around the table to join the other girls. Within the next minute, Priscilla also joined the girls and Neville sat down with his old dorm-mates, looking very relieved as he did so.

'Never ceases to amaze me,' he told his mates, 'how women can talk about nothing for hours on end!'

'And what is it we're discussing?' asked Dean with a smile.

'Quidditch!' answered Ron promptly.

'Which is definitely something!' laughed Harry, knowing the girls would probably think their Quidditch discussion was unutterably boring.

Harry glanced across the table at his fiancée, obviously enjoying her discussion with her friends.

He smiled to himself. They may be on opposite sides of the table now, but he knew that later, once they were home, they'd be in the same bed and he was already thinking Hermione was far more interesting than Quidditch (laughing quietly as he imagined Hermione's reaction to that little thought).

As Harry continued to gaze across the table at Hermione, watching her as she talked, listened and laughed, he felt a deep contentment and happiness spread through him, before his mind began helplessly and inevitably wandering ahead to that night and what he - they - would be doing...