The First Day

The Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross, surrounded by its usual cloud of steam. Hermione peered out of the window of the compartment she shared with Hannah, Luna, and Ginny. 'Neville's on the platform,' she announced. She shot Hannah a look. 'I thought you said the two of you were just friends.'

Hannah joined Hermione at the window. 'We are,' she replied, giving Neville a thoughtful glance. 'He mentioned something about meeting me on the platform when he brought some cuttings from St. Mungo's greenhouse up to Professor Sprout last week...' She tugged her schoolbag from the rack overhead. 'Didn't think he'd actually be here.'

'You think his grandmother made him come?' Hermione wondered.

Ginny snorted. 'You think anyone can make Neville do anything he doesn't want to do anymore?'

Luna stood and stretched her arms over her head. 'It's usually nice to be friends first,' she said. 'Don't you think so?' She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. 'Dates aren't nearly as awkward.'

'It certainly helps,' Hermione agreed. 'You don't have to get through all that normal getting-to-know-you rubbish. And you're usually comfortable being around them...'

The train lurched to a stop. Ginny staggered a little and pulled her bag from the rack. 'I suppose. I haven't really been on a date with Harry... At least not one where we've been alone from start to finish...'

'Yeah, we're usually together, aren't we?' Hermione mused. She met Ginny's eyes, and the two of them grinned and nodded.

'If I were Ron or Harry, I might be worried,' Hannah laughed. 'When the two of you get an idea in your heads...'

'We're not that bad!' Ginny protested, laughing. She started to follow Hannah and Luna from the compartment, but Hermione grabbed her arm.

'Before we get off the train,' Hermione said nervously. She let go of Ginny's arm and wrapped her fingers around the strap of her bag so tightly the knuckles turned white. 'Did you write to Harry about the translation of Tales of Beedle the Bard?'

'Yeah. Sent him a copy of the "Tale of the Three Brothers", too, but he didn't write back to me,' Ginny said.

'Oh...' Hermione's face was crestfallen.

'Don't read too much into it,' Ginny warned. 'You and I both know if he was truly upset by it, he'd have written immediately. And said a great many truly idiotic things in the process.'

'Yeah...'

'And the trials were going on, too,' Ginny reminded her. She glanced out the window, then did a quick double take. 'If you want, you can ask him about it right now,' she said.

'Why is that?' Hermione followed Ginny's gaze. Harry waited by one of the pillars, chatting with Neville and Hannah, who was pointing at the train. 'Is now really the time?'

Ginny stifled a groan. 'You're worse than Ron. If you keep waiting for the right time, it's never going to be the right time.'

'But...'

'No buts,' Ginny said firmly. 'You said yourself Professor Babbling needs an answer from you after the holiday, no?'

Hermione nodded glumly. 'Yeah...'

'So just ask, for pity's sake.' Ginny headed toward the door. 'Come on, then. Before Harry gets worried and sends out frantic owls or Patronuses looking for us.'

'Easy for you to say,' Hermione muttered, trudging off the train and crossing the platform to where Harry stood saying his hellos in as few words as possible to Ginny. 'Ron's at the shop?' she asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Harry looked at Hermione over the top of Ginny's head. 'Yeah. George had something come up at the last minute, so he's not there, and they're staying open late, with all the Hogwarts students coming home for the holiday. I've been given strict instructions to take you over there as soon as you got off the train.' He gave Hermione a one-armed hug. 'The story translation's brilliant,' he said into her ear. 'Nobody'll ever make the connection between them and...' He trailed off significantly.

Hermione's shoulders slumped. 'Thank you,' she breathed. 'Oh, thank you, Harry!' she squealed, throwing both arms around him. 'This is such an enormous opportunity,' she babbled.

'I know.' Harry returned the hug. 'You deserve it after everything...' Hermione's eyes grew shiny and overly bright. 'No crying,' he ordered. 'Ron will hex me if he finds out I made you cry.'

Hermione giggled. 'Hex you? Probably not. Withhold your favorite pudding? Definitely.'

'If you two don't stop that,' Ginny began dryly, 'you're going to find yourselves on the front page of the paper in the morning.'

'But Skeeter's not even here!' Harry protested.

'No,' Ginny said cheerfully. 'But plenty of others are who'll go to her in a heartbeat to make you look bad.' Harry opened his mouth to argue with her, but Ginny smiled guilelessly at him. 'You know it's true,' she added.

'She's right,' Hermione murmured. 'And this mob's going to descend on the shop soon, and Ron's going to need some help.' She headed for the barrier. 'I'll see you there.'

Harry shook his head, and slid his arm around Ginny's waist. 'So do you have any plans for next Thursday?'

Ginny frowned. 'No... It's Ffffffff--' She took in a deep breath. 'George's birthday.'

'I know,' Harry said quietly, leading Ginny to the barrier. 'But I've found a flat in London, and I told the landlord I'd move into it on the first.'

'Ah...' Ginny nodded in understanding. 'A distraction.'

'Yeah.' Harry let go of Ginny long enough to slip through the barrier. He waited for her to come through and took her hand. 'It won't take us all day, though, in case your mum's planning something for dinner, though.'

'What do you mean by "us"?'

'You're going to help me move in and unpack, aren't you?'

'Do you even have furniture?'

'I thought you could help me with that, too...'

'Ooooh. Shopping.' Ginny sounded less than thrilled.

'I can't stand shopping,' Harry told her. 'All those salesclerks standing around, watching you bounce on a mattress.' He glanced down at Ginny. 'I'll feed you lunch...' he wheedled.

'Oh, fine...' Ginny sighed.

'Brilliant. Monday morning, then.'

Ginny walked silently out of the station and turned into an alley to Disapparate. 'It's all changing so quickly,' she said.

'Is that a bad thing?' Harry blurted.

'No. It just seems like it's moving awfully fast. I'll be finished with school soon and you're about to be on your own... A year ago...' She let the thought fade, unfinished.

'I know.'

*****

Ron closed the door of the shop and leaned against it, his eyes widening as he blinked several times. 'What exactly do you call that?' he asked.

'A dress.' Hermione spun in a slow circle. 'Found it at a vintage shop during the Christmas holidays.'

'It's a little short, isn't it?' he choked.

Hermione looked down, waggling her fingertips near the edge of the hem. 'Not really.' The skirt flipped saucily at mid-thigh.

Ron's gaze locked on Hermione's shoes. 'And where do you intend to go, dressed like that?'

'Don't move.' Hermione flicked her wand at Ron, and his jeans and shirt smoothed as if she'd pressed them. 'You and I are going out.'

'Going out?' Ron asked blankly.

'You know, Ron, if you keep repeating everything I say all night, it's going to take a while to have a conversation.'

Ron slowly inhaled. 'Where are we going?'

'Club. In Muggle London. Where you and I will be completely anonymous, where we can dance all night, and not have to worry what anyone else will think.'

'Sounds like a plan.' Ron stepped forward and took Hermione's hand. 'Lead on.'

*****

'No Teddy tonight?' Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head. 'Andromeda will bring him over tomorrow to spend the day with me. With the shop staying open late and all...' He hauled himself to the top of the stone wall, and stared up into the sky. 'So Dean, Seamus, and Neville are coming to help on Thursday. And Luna, too.'

'You, me, Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Luna?' Ginny counted. 'That's a lot of help.'

'Well, Dean's going to paint Teddy's room. Neville's going to set up a small greenhouse on the balcony outside the kitchen - just the medicinal herbs - because well, we know I'm practically a walking disaster waiting to happen. And the rest of us... We'll bicker over where to put the sofa, and whether or not to put up curtains. Where the bookcase ought to go, and should I get another one. Do I put the bed under the window or across from it? And where the tea towels should go in the kitchen.' Harry tucked his hands between his knees. 'And Luna will have some mad idea that the dustbin the bathroom needs to be in the middle of the floor because there's some sort of magical theory that says it should be there. And we'll get Chinese takeaway from the place down the street and sit on the floor, because nobody wants to spill on the new sofa, even though we all can use magic to fix any damage.'

'That's an awfully well-thought plan,' Ginny observed.

A reminiscent expression drifted over Harry's face. 'I saw something like it on the telly once during the summers. I didn't have friends until I started school, and it didn't take long after that when I began to dream about moving out of that house. At the end of my third year, when I thought I might be able to move in with Sirius, for ten seconds, I let myself dream of what it might be like to have Ron and Hermione come help me put my room to rights.' He shook himself and gave Ginny a self-deprecating shrug. 'Just sort of stuck, I suppose.' He heaved a sigh. 'So enough about me. Weren't you supposed to pick a team?'

'I did,' Ginny said triumphantly. 'Holyhead.'

'I'm not surprised,' Harry commented. 'A team that's full of women with something to prove.'

'Wouldn't you have something to prove if the Quidditch powers-that-be aren't quite sure what to make of an all-female team? Women who are very good at what they do, and who are very discreet about their lives off the pitch. You never see any of the Harpies in the paper, except for the Quidditch page. Apparently, they're a rather tightly-knit team. Don't talk to the press about things outside of the game.'

'Thanks...'

'I didn't do it just for you,' Ginny corrected. 'It helps, but I'd rather people focused on my ability to play, not who I'm dating.'

'Are you going to be on the team straightaway?'

Ginny burst into peals of laughter. 'No. I still have to go through a trial with the rest of the team. At best, I'm hoping to go on the reserve squad. But I fully expect to be on the practice squad.'

'Selling yourself just a bit short, aren't you?'

'No. I'm being realistic. I'm not even eighteen, and very, very few players are put on the regular squad, much less the reserves when they're first out of school.'

'You have no idea how good you are,' Harry said incredulously.

'I know I'm good enough,' Ginny sighed. 'Still... It could all be for naught. Nothing's set in stone, and the trial in July is really just that... A trial.' She bit her lip and tilted her face to the starry sky, letting the breeze waft over her face. 'I might not make it.'

'Of course you will,' Harry scoffed.

'I wrote to Bill,' Ginny continued, as if Harry hadn't spoken. 'I asked him about working in Gringotts as a curse-setter.'

'Curse-setter?'

'Someone has to do it,' Ginny informed him loftily. 'But that might mean I have to go elsewhere...' she added softly.

'Elsewhere...?'

'Abroad.'

'What does that mean for us?'

'I don't know,' Ginny sighed. 'We have to wait, I suppose. Wait and find out what happens...'

'But--' Harry began, then bit back his argument. You want her to be happy, don't you? 'Yeah.' Ginny shivered a little, and burrowed into Harry's side. 'Let's go in, eh? Getting a bit chilly out here.'

'I'm fine,' Ginny protested.

'I'm getting cold,' Harry said firmly. 'And I'm hungry.' His stomach rumbled loudly, as if to prove his point. 'And in a few days, I'll have to feed myself, instead of raiding the kitchen here.'

'One last hurrah?'

'Something like that.' Harry slid off the wall and began to walk toward the house. 'At the same time, I won't have to try and eat so much. Molly puts so much food on my plate, and eyes me like I'm a naughty toddler until I eat it all.'

'You look great,' Ginny said admiringly. She had a feeling Harry was always going to be thin, but he had quite lost the starved, pinched look he'd had most of his life.

'I had to let my belt out,' Harry laughed. 'That's the first time I've ever had to do that.' He opened the back door, and held it open for Ginny.

'There you are!' exclaimed Molly. She indicated a parcel on the dresser. 'That arrived for you today, Harry.'

'Housewarming gift?' Ginny teased.

'Dunno.' Harry peeled the paper away from a heavy book. 'Must be from Hermione,' he guessed. 'It's a book.' He turned the book over to see the title, and the smile slowly faded from his face. 'This must be some sort of joke,' he muttered, nascent hysteria making his voice shake. 'This can't be real.' He pulled the book from the wrappings and brandished it toward Ginny and Molly. 'This can't be real!'

'Oh, dear God...' Molly reached for the book, a look of disgust on her face. 'Who...?'

'Rita Skeeter.' Ginny's voice was deathly quiet. 'That cow.'

Molly started to throw the book into the rubbish bin, but Harry plucked it from her hand. 'I want to read it,' he said, his voice thready with rage. 'I want to see what kind of lies she's said about me.'

'Harry, don't do it.' Molly unsuccessfully tried to tug the book from his grasp. 'It's just going to upset you.'

'No.' Harry shook his head, and held the book away from Molly, knowing it was fruitless, as she could Accio it from him at any moment. 'This time she's gone too far. I'm keeping it, and I'm taking it to Kingsley. Enough is bloody enough.' He strode from the kitchen, the sound of his footfalls on the staircase thumping loudly over the creaks and squeals of the risers.

*****

Ron swiped the sleeve of his shirt across his forehead. He was hot, sweating, and felt totally exhilarated. The music blocked out everything else. It was loud and throbbing, flooding his body with its infectious rhythms. He could see the laughter on Hermione's face as she twirled in that ridiculous excuse for a dress. Hermione threw herself into his arms. 'Are you ready to leave?' she shouted, her mouth next to his ear.

'Yeah!'

'Come on!' Hermione grabbed his hand, and began to wind her way through the throng of people. They burst into the deserted street, gasping as the cool air slapped them in the face. 'That was fantastic!' she gushed.

'Need to let off steam?' Ron asked.

'A bit. Exams coming up.'

'A bit?' Ron looked down at his watch. 'It's after midnight. That's more than a bit.' He pulled Hermione closer, tilting her face up to kiss her.

'Why don't you take me home?' Hermione suggested.

'Oh. All right.' Ron struggled to keep the disappointment from his voice.

Hermione smiled secretively. 'Just take me home, Ron.'

'All right.' Reluctantly, Ron wound an arm around Hermione, and Disapparated, appearing the Grangers' back garden with a loud pop. 'Damn,' Ron hissed. 'I probably woke up your parents.'

'I wouldn't worry about that,' Hermione said demurely. She made her way to the back door of the house. 'Aren't you coming in with me?'

'I...' Any arguments Ron might have had died on his tongue at the completely uncharacteristic coquettish glance over the shoulder she gave him. 'Maybe for a minute...'

As soon as the door closed behind him, Hermione wound her hands in his hair, pulling his mouth down to hers, kissing him with a thoroughness that left him breathless. Ron broke it off. 'Merlin, Hermione... Your parents...'

She backed away slowly, reaching down to pull her shoes off. 'Oh, did I forget to tell you?'

'Tell me what?'

'My parents are on holiday,' Hermione murmured, reaching behind her head to unzip the dress. 'They won't be back until Wednesday.'

'Oh... Brilliant...' Ron inhaled sharply, as he realized precisely what she meant.

*****

'Harry?' Ginny knocked on the door of Ron's attic bedroom. 'Are you asleep?' He didn't reply. Ginny frowned at the light creeping from under the space under the door. She heard a disgruntled curse. 'I know you're awake,' she continued. 'I can hear you huffing in there like Fang when Hagrid's late with his dinner.'

The door suddenly opened and revealed Harry's mutinous face. 'Do you know what she's said about me?' he hissed, mindful of the fact Molly and Arthur's bedroom was just below them. 'She's said that I must have used Dark magic to escape from Voldemort the summer before last. And that we put the Gringotts goblins under an Imperius to break into the Lestrange vault. She's written that my wits must have been addled by my injury in Ireland, because how else would one explain me speaking in favor of the Malfoys?' Harry spun and heaved the book across the room. It slammed into the opposite wall, rattling the window. 'That bitch said I was emotionally stunted because of my upbringing!' Harry roared in a whisper. His mouth snapped shut, aware he'd said too much.

Ginny slipped into the room, and closed the door behind her, sweeping her wand in an arc around the room. 'You can yell if you want.'

Harry had begun to pace around the room, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists. His knuckles popped loudly in the otherwise still room. 'I'm going to get her and I'm going to put her away for a good long time for this. I promise...'

'Harry,' Ginny began tentatively, 'we have laws...'

'I know we have laws!' he shouted. 'But do those laws protect her from writing outright lies about me?'

Ginny sank to the edge of Harry's camp bed. 'No,' she admitted. 'But they don't allow Azkaban sentences for slander or libel.'

Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously. 'Then what do they allow?' he snapped.

'She won't be able to publish for a set amount of time. She'll be blacklisted.'

'Why hasn't anyone ever tried this before?' Harry growled.

'Well, because she's usually reported something of the truth,' Ginny responded evenly. 'Exaggerated, of course, but it's essentially the truth. She's been careful to speculate about things, and not report them as fact, like she did with that article she wrote when Hermione came back from Australia.' Ginny paused delicately. 'The thing is, Harry, if she's written that book as fact, you've got a case. Otherwise...' She shrugged.

'I'm still going to Kingsley. I've had enough of her. It's not just me, either. This is just the limit, Gin, do you hear?'

'I hear you,' Ginny said ruefully, tugging at her ear. 'People in the next county heard you... Well, they could if I hadn't charmed the room...'

Harry glared at Ginny, then flopped down to the camp bed, making it sway alarmingly. He grabbed the pillow and punched it several times, before tossing it carelessly to the floor. 'Things aren't changing fast enough sometimes,' he breathed. 'I thought...'

'What? That the war would be over, and everything over the previous seven years would just disappear into the mists of history?' Ginny hooted. 'Wishful thinking, that.'

'That I'd be left alone to live my life.'

'Harry, you're never going to be left totally alone,' Ginny stated calmly.

'Damn.' Harry sat up, grasping Ginny's arm. 'Look, I know this is somewhat premature, but if - if - we ever get married and have children, we won't tell them about any of this. Not until they're old enough to understand.'

'Harry...'

'They need normal lives,' Harry insisted. 'I ought to be able to give them that much.'

'And when would "old enough" be?'

'I don't know,' Harry confessed. 'After they start Hogwarts...?'

'Eleven? All right...'

'Or seventeen.'

'Oh, sure. Waiting until they're seventeen isn't silly at all,' Ginny chuckled. 'Lie down.' Harry grumbled under his breath, but slid under the quilt. Ginny snuggled next to him, on top of the quilt, Summoning the quilt from Ron's unoccupied bed to drape over her body. She stroked the back of his neck gently, running her fingers through his hair until the stiff tendons relaxed. 'We can figure that out when - if - we do marry and have children. Not something we have to decide just now, Harry.' She waited for a response but none was forthcoming. 'Harry?'

A soft snore was her only reply. Ginny smiled, and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth carefully pulling his glasses off, then set them on the windowsill over their heads.

*****

Hermione sat on the rug in the sitting room, swathed in Ron's shirt, watching him kneel in front of the fire, expertly turning a sandwich on a toasting fork. 'How did you get so good at that?' she asked. 'I always end up letting the bread slide off into the flames...'

Ron smirked. 'Christmas holiday my first year of school. Nearly everyone else in Gryffindor had gone home, and Harry and I actually got to sit near the fireplace. And well, when you're eleven, you eat anything that isn't nailed down or charmed to stick to the table, and Harry and I were overcome by more laziness than usual.' Ron slid the toasted cheese sandwich off the fork and onto a plate. 'Careful... it's hot...' He quickly assembled another sandwich and held it hovering over the dancing flames. 'So we pretty much ate anything we could put on a toasting fork between meals. And after much trial and error...' Ron nodded toward the sandwich.

'Do you think it helped that we were friends for so long first?' Hermione asked, picking at the crispy edge of the toasted bread.'

'Didn't hurt,' Ron replied, turning his sandwich.

'That's it? "Didn't hurt"?'

'Well, what do you want me to say?' Ron pulled his sandwich from the fire to examine the progress.

'Did it make it harder to date me?'

Ron sighed, and sat back on his heels. 'Yes and no, hen.' He put the sandwich back into the fire and stared at the bread. 'Yes, because being friends with you made it harder to see you as, you put it our fourth year, a girl...'

'You remember that?'

'I remember lots of things,' Ron told her, carefully removing his sandwich from the fork. 'And then I worried about what would happen if I did get involved with you, especially after that debacle that was Lavender...'

'That's a good way to describe it.'

'Yeah. Because if it went horribly wrong, how would it have affected everything else? You're practically part of the family, even before we started this, you're one of Ginny's best mates, and we'd have to try to find a way to share Harry, which I don't think would work out nearly as well as I imagine it would...'

'My, you're quite the ray of sunshine,' Hermione teased. 'Did you think anything positive about it?'

'Oh, well, yeah, of course,' Ron spluttered. 'I already know most of your quirks, and the mundane stuff, like your middle name, your favorite color... But in spite of it, you still manage to surprise me. Like tonight.' He cocked an eyebrow toward their scattered clothing. 'And sometimes, it makes really funny things happen inside my head.'

Hermione choked on her sandwich. 'Funny things?' she rasped, her eyes streaming.

'Yeah, like the first time. The whole time, this tiny part of my brain kept screaming, "Bloody hell! It's Hermione! You know, the Hermione you saved from a troll. And she's naked!" It was more than a little disconcerting, I'll have you know.' Ron slid a crumpet on the toasting fork. 'So what about you?'

'It was harder,' Hermione admitted. 'For all those reasons you said, if it went horribly wrong, how would it have affected everyone else. On the other hand, I've read if people form attachments when they're young, it does mean they'll have a greater chance of forming a strong relationship as adults...'

'Makes sense, I guess.' Ron slathered strawberry jam over the crumpet and offered it to Hermione. She leaned forward for a bite. 'So I suppose that means you're stuck with me, then.' Ron stuffed half of the crumpet in his mouth to cover his embarrassment.

Hermione smiled and wiped a smudge of jam from the corner of Ron's mouth with her thumb. 'And you with me.' She licked the jam from her thumb. 'Not such a bad place to be.'

'No, it's not.'