The Show That Never Ends

HARRY POTTER AND THE SHOW THAT NEVER ENDS

Chapter 6: Sympathy for the Devil

Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.

--The Rolling Stones

**********

Hermione extended one leg into the air, then the other, feeling the tired muscles stretch. She sunk lower into the huge bubbling tub of soapy water, smiling in contentment. The sun shone down into the bathroom from the windows overlooking the tub deck and she felt a hundred pounds lighter.

"Hermione?" came Harry's voice.

"In here!" she called.

He pushed the door open, smiling and bearing a large glass of orange juice. "Hey, you're up! I was beginning to wonder if that bed was your new life partner."

"Ooh, juice." She took the glass and drained half of it in one gulp. Harry was well aware that Hermione had a bit of an orange juice fetish. No morning was complete without several glasses. "Thanks."

He sat on the edge of the tub decking and trailed his fingers in the water. "How are you feeling?"

She smiled up at him. "Oh, much better, thanks. Still a little tight, though. A whirlpool doth not five days of pounding erase."

"I can fix that."

"What, you coming in here with me?" she said, grinning.

"Tempting, but no. You're coming out." He stood up and took her hand, helping her to stand up in the tub. She stepped onto the bath mat and stood there dripping.

"Okay, now what? I'm all naked and wet. Hey, wipe that grin off your face."

He grabbed a towel from the rack. "Sorry. Just had a flashback to age 15." He wrapped the towel around her. "Dry off and come into the bedroom."

"You are full of surprises today." She rubbed the suds off with the fluffy towel, a smirk coming over her face. "And I might add that you're looking pretty good to me after five days with only my Bubble for company."

"You always look good to me. Not to mention that's my favorite outfit."

She laughed as he went back into the bedroom, drying herself off and wondering what Harry had in store for her.

When she came out of the bathroom nothing seemed unusual. Harry was standing by the bed, smiling. "Lie down on your stomach," he said. "Let your head dangle over the edge."

Shrugging, she did as he bid her. She felt the bed creak as Harry got on too. She was half expecting something she wouldn't ever be able to tell her grandchildren about, but instead he just put his hands on her shoulders and then started to rub. "Ooh," she exhaled. Over her shoulders, down her arms, across her back. The lingering tension and soreness melted away. His hands felt very warm and smooth on her bare skin. "Oh my...where did you learn to do that and why on earth haven't you ever done it before?"

He chuckled. "Actually, I've never tried this before. It just seemed like you might enjoy it."

"Well, you're a natural." He moved down her sides to her legs. "Say, Mr. Magic Hands...wanna marry me?"

"Hmm. Okay."

"But only if you'll promise me unlimited massages. In sickness and in health and in unlimited massages."

"And what do I get in return?" She could hear the smile in his voice.

"All the sex you want. I don't care. Weird positions, whips and chains...just as long as the massages keep coming you can get as kinky as you want." Her voice was half muffled in the bedsheets.

"You'll have to do better than that. You know I'm not the kinky type."

"How about my undying love for as long as we both shall live?"

"That sounds fair."

"Of course you had that before. But I'll tell you, massages go a long way towards making it stick. Hummmmmm..." she purred as Harry moved up to her lower back. "Don't tell me you're still dressed up there."

"Um, yes I am."

"If there isn't some wild monkey love or at the very least some tender Sarah MacLachlan love at the end of this I'm going to be very upset with you."

"Boy, you don't hear that every day."

She rolled over and looked up at him, batting her eyelashes. "Time to do the front?"

He grinned. "You are feeling aggressive today, aren't you? What sort of woman have I gotten myself involved with?"

"The sort who's just spent almost a week in hell and to get herself through it she fantasized about sexy bed romps with her gorgeous and hunky fella."

"Which fella would that be? Hunky and gorgeous I'm not."

She sat up and grabbed his shirt front. "You are to me, so shut it." She leaned forward and kissed him. "I'm sitting naked on a bed and you're arguing semantics? Pulse check, please." She stuck out her lower lip and winked at him. "Don't you find me attractive any more? Hmmmmm? Did that little leg-breaking incident put you off?"

He grinned and clambered up on the bed, pulling his t-shirt off over his head. "Let's find out."

**********

...a few days later...

**********

Hermione set down her notepad on the tabletop and took a seat next to Sirius. "Where's Harry?" he asked her.

"He'll be along in a minute." She opened her parchpad and looked around the table. "Is everyone else here? Napoleon? Remus?" Every week, the informal group who'd been investigating Harry's disappearance had been meeting to update each other and exchange notes.

"Everyone's here except Harry."

"Good." Everyone looked at Hermione. "Because I have something to share that I don't want him to hear." She took a deep breath. "For a few nights now, Harry's been having these...nightmares."

"What sorts of nightmares?"

"I don't know. He doesn't remember them and I don't want him to. He...he talks in his sleep. Sometimes screams. It's very unsettling."

"I imagine," Lupin said. "What does he say?"

"That's the strange part. He always says the same thing. He just says 'it never ends' over and over again. He mumbles it, he yells it, once he was sort of singing it."

"'It never ends,'" Sirius said, testing the words in his mouth. "What never ends?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. That's all he says."

"Well creepy, isn't it?" Napoleon said.

"Yes. I've almost told him about it but something's stopped me. I just...don't want to disturb him. Also, in a way I don't want to disrupt the dreams. He might say something more informative, and if he's all worried about it he might not have them in the same way."

"It could just be a random dream and have nothing to do with anything," Lupin said.

"I don't think so. It's just the way he says it, like it's life or death. And he's never been one to have nightmares before he disappeared."

"But he's been back for awhile now. He only just started having the nightmares, right? Who's to say something else isn't causing them?"

"Nothing, I just know that it's important. I know it in my gut."

"Well, at the moment your gut outranks the amazing lack of information we have already, so let's run with it," Remus said. "Try and pay closer attention to his sleep activities, Hermione."

"Remus, he sleeps right next to me. I'm not going to miss anything important, believe me."

The door opened and Harry came in. "Afternoon, all. Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?"

The others exchanged glances. "Nope," Napoleon said. "Just chitchat."

"All right, then let's get started."

**********

Hermione leaned forward and wiped the mirror off with a damp towel, fanning the door in its frame to clear the moisture from the air. She was running a little late and she wanted to be on time for this of all things, but the mirror kept fogging up and it was irritating not to mention counterproductive.

Her hair pinned up in what she hoped was a regulation yet flattering style, she went into the bedroom in her knickers to finish dressing. Harry was standing by the bed and looking down at her brand-new I.D. uniform, which had been delivered that afternoon in time for this evening's graduation ceremony. He was already dressed in his own uniform, the same one she'd seen him wear to the debriefing and a few other I.D. functions. "What is it?" she said, peering at his face. He had the oddest expression.

"Oh, nothing. I just can hardly believe it." He shook his head. "One day we're buying Chocolate Frogs on the Hogwarts Express and now here we are...spies."

She chuckled. "Intelligence agents, dear." She picked up the uniform. "Do we have other uniforms besides this one?"

"There are three standard issue uniforms. That one and the one I'm wearing are standard blacks, suitable for everyday wear or division functions, like graduation. Then there are the field fatigues, which are more practical. There's a great cloak that comes with those, it's got enchanted pockets. Then there's the dress uniforms. Much fancier."

"What are those for?"

"Oh, Federation state dinners, that sort of thing." He rolled her rank pips around on his palm. "I thought I might wear mine to the wedding."

"Oh, yes! Marvelous." She grinned at him. "I shall swoon my way up the aisle." She straightened her jacket and turned from the mirror. "There. How do I look?"

Harry sighed. The I.D. Lieutenant's uniform was all black, as were all the others. The pants were breech-style and disappeared into knee-high boots, polished to a mirror shine. The short jacket was hip-length and tailored with a Nehru-style collar and hidden buttons. Instead of the long purple cape that went along with Harry's uniform, Hermione's had a sash of the same color that ran across her chest. "You look amazing." He held up her rank insignia. "May I?"

In lieu of an answer, she stepped closer and tilted her head back. Harry affixed the two small rank bars to each side of her collar, and then pinned the rank bars shoulders of her jacket. He smoothed the fabric down her arms, sniffing a little. She reached up and ran her hand down his cheek. "Hey. I'm still your girl."

He smiled. "I know."

**********

Hermione made a beeline for the bar, thirsty after sitting under warm torches for the entire ceremony. "Screwdriver," she told the bartender. "Hold the vodka." He chuckled and poured her an orange juice. "Thanks." She drained the glass and set it down on the bar, exhaling in relief. She looked around, relieved to have the thing done.

The post-ceremony reception was being held at the Ministry in one of their medium-sized ballrooms. A small jazz combo was playing and tables loaded down with hors d'oevres lined the walls. The Federation seal hung from one wall, flanked on either side by the seal of the British Ministry and the Enforcement Corps seal. The room was full of dark uniforms and people in civilian clothes.

Napoleon came towards her, grinning ear to ear. "Hey, L.T.!" he said. Hermione laughed and embraced him. "Congrats! I guess this means you don't have to call me 'sir' any more."

"When did I ever call you 'sir?'" she said. "You look very smart tonight." It was odd to see Napoleon in clothing that wasn't ripped, dyed, or decorated with band logos. His uniform was identical to Hermione's since they were now of the same rank, and for the occasion he's just slicked his hair straight back and dyed it a modest violet to match his cape. He'd removed most of his piercings except his earrings and a nose stud. "I almost didn't recognize you. Without all the metal I can actually see your face."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good, I think. You could almost pass for an officer."

"Gosh, thanks. Oh, here's Harry." He took a step back so Harry could hug her. "Hey, boss."

Harry cast him a cool glance. "Jones." He turned his attention back to Hermione. "Well, that's over."

"Thank God," she said, grinning up at him and slipping her arm around his waist. "Lots of pomp and circumstance."

"It's only a formality. These Federation types love their formality." He followed her gaze across the room to see Claire and Doug Granger waving enthusiastically.

"I'm going to go see my folks," she said. "Coming?"

"No, I've got to talk to Napoleon for a second. You go along."

Hermione kissed his cheek and trotted across the room. "Hi, Mum!" she said, opening her arms to embrace her mother and then her father. "I'm so glad you could come."

"Oh, we wouldn't have missed it, darling. You look so sharp in your uniform!"

'Yes, very official," Doug said. "But won't it get boring the same color day after day?" he joked, chucking her on the shoulder.

"Well, we don't actually have to wear these every day," Hermione said. "Just on occasion."

Claire sobered, clasping Hermione's hands in hers. "Now, sweetie. I know this is a big opportunity for you, but please promise me..."

"That I'll be careful. I will, Mum."

"It's just such a dangerous line of work, and we worry so..."

"I know, Mum. I won't be doing the really dangerous things."

"Well, we worry about Harry too."

Hermione smiled. "Harry can take care of himself."

"Just because he's special doesn't make him invincible. He should still be careful. He should...should..." She trailed off, a frown coming over her face as she looked past Hermione's shoulder. "Oh, my."

Hermione turned around to see a hubbub forming near the doors that opened onto the patio. People were hurrying in that direction, exchanging puzzled words and glances.

Someone called to her. "Hermione! Come quick!"

Hermione ran towards the doors and pushed through the crowd of people until she found herself on the patio; her jaw dropped at what she saw there.

Harry was being physically pulled off Napoleon by Argo and Henry Ubigando. He was pulling against them trying to get free. Napoleon was sitting on the ground looking up at him with an expression of shock and confusion, one hand to his bleeding mouth. Harry was railing at him, a strange look on his face as he swore at Napoleon and called him awful names.

Hermione rushed forward, shocked. She grabbed Harry's arms and pushed him back. "Harry, stop it! Harry!" she shouted at him.

It seemed to jolt him back. He relaxed and stopped struggling against Argo and Henry. He looked down at her, his mouth opening and closing. "Hermione...I..." He looked around at Henry and the others as if unsure where he was.

"Harry, what in God's name are you doing?"

He shook his head. "I don't know." An expression of horror came over his face and he pushed past her to where Napoleon stood. He tensed for another attack but Harry put his hands up in a gesture of truce. "Napoleon, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Hermione joined him. "What happened here? Napoleon?"

He shrugged. "Fuck if I know! We were talking about next week's briefing and I said something about how he must be proud of you and the next thing I know he's all over me!" He looked at Harry. "What'd I say?"

"Nothing," Harry said. "You didn't say anything." He shook his head, his expression blankly confused. "I'm sorry, Jones. I'm not myself tonight."

"S'all right, Harry. I've had worse. No harm done. Everyone goes a little wonky now and again." He smiled and chucked Harry on the shoulder. "And if we don't, well, maybe we should."

Harry nodded weakly and looked down at Hermione. She turned towards Argo. "We're going home. My apologies."

"Yes, take him home," Argo replied sharply. "Harry, you go and see Sukesh tomorrow morning."

"Argo..."

"That's an order, Major."

"He will," Hermione said, taking his hand. "Napoleon, say goodbye to my parents for me." She and Harry left the room, leaving a confused crowd behind them.

**********

They came into the foyer at home, silent and uneasy. Hermione hung up her cloak. "I'm going upstairs. Are you coming?"

"In a minute. I'm just going to get us some tea."

"Okay." She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

He watched her go up the stairs and went into the kitchen. Laura was at the table eating a sandwich. "Hey, Harry!" There was some hot water in the teapot so he just got out the mugs and the teabags. "How was the ceremony?" He said nothing, just poured the hot water. "Harry?"

He picked up the mugs and turned towards the door. He looked at Laura, his expression blank. "Sod off," he said calmly, and left the room. Laura sat at the table watching him go, her mouth hanging open in astonishment.

**********

She was trying not to think about what had happened as she changed into her nightgown. Harry was not a violent person and he never picked fights. What had Napoleon said?

He came in carrying two mugs. "Tea," he said.

She took a mug. "Thanks." She sipped it, blowing on the hot surface. "Is Laura still up?"

"I didn't see her." He sat down on the window seat, pushing himself back so he was leaning against the window. "Well, are we going to talk about it?"

She sat on the bed facing him. "Why did you do it, Harry?"

"I don't know." He looked up. "No, maybe I do." He set down his tea. "He's in love with you, you know."

She stared down at her mug, one finger tracing around its edge. "Yes, I know."

"And you kissed him." She looked up sharply. "I read it in your journal."

She nodded. "Yes, I kissed him. But you must have also read why I did." She sighed. "I was in a very bad place, Harry. You were gone. It was if you'd just vanished without a trace. I was starting to believe I'd never see you again. Every day, all I could think about was how happy we'd been and how much time we'd wasted insisting we were friends, and then just as we were starting to get used to being in love you were gone. I'd tried searching, I'd tried hoping, I'd tried thinking positive. I'd tried praying and still...you were gone. I thought maybe if I pissed you off you'd come back and yell at me. Ergo, I kissed him." She stood up and came to sit next to him. "Harry, Napoleon is my friend. He helped me get through those months while you were away. He is only my friend. I know he has feelings for me. I can't help that."

He sniffed. "Maybe you can. Do you have to be so wonderful all the time?"

She smiled and turned his face towards her. "Please tell me you're not thinking about having jealous rages over Napoleon Jones."

"Well..."

"Stop right there." She stood up and straddled his legs so she was sitting on his lap facing him; she put her hands on his shoulder and made him look at her. "Harry, I love you. I am completely, insanely, passionately in love with you. Get it? Can I speak plainer? There's no one else. There will never be anyone else. Not Napoleon, not anyone. Okay?" He smiled and nodded, blushing a little. "Okay. Now, I find it more than a little disturbing that you're beating up perceived rivals."

"I don't know what happened. I just sort of...snapped, I guess. I've been feeling a little off today. Antsy. We're not getting anywhere in the investigation and I'm worried that we'll never know what happened to me."

"We'll know." She hugged him. "And even if we don't, well, we'll deal with it."

He looked up into her face. "I can deal with a lot with you at my side. Just promise not to break my leg again."

**********

"You want some of this soup, hon?" Laura said from the stove.

"Sure." Hermione was sitting at the table with a sandwich and a book. It was Saturday and the house was oddly empty. George was at a meeting with some clients, Cho was at training camp, Justin was at the office and Harry was up at the Ministry meeting with a committee of Enforcers. Laura set a bowl in front of Hermione and took a seat next to her.

"Did Harry see Dr. Subramaniam?"

"Yes, a few days ago. Sukesh told me that he couldn't find a thing wrong with him. He agreed with me that it was just stress, and probably some residual jealousy over Napoleon. He gave Harry a relaxation charm and some herbal tranquility tea and cleared him for duty."

"I think you like Napoleon. More than you're admitting."

Hermione sighed. "I do like him. Maybe a little more than I'm admitting. But honestly, he's only a friend. I don't have any romantic feelings for him, and there's certainly no reason for Harry to be jealous," she said firmly.

"Annoying, isn't it?"

"Yes! I mean, what do I have to do to convince that man that he's got me! No matter how often I tell him I love him he still seems to doubt it."

"Men. Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em."

Hermione laughed. "I just wish he could believe in us."

"He does. It's himself he doesn't believe in. He may be Mr. Fabulous on the outside but inside there's still that little boy scrunched into the cupboard under the stairs and hated by everyone." Laura wiped her lips and set down her spoon. "I will say he's been a little...cranky of late."

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that he said a few...things...to me that didn't seem like him at all. But the past few days he's been his regular, pleasant self."

"Yes, he has. Same old Harry. I shouldn't be so negative. I know he believes that I love him and that I'm committed to him, but I suppose emotions aren't always rational."

"Amen, sister."

**********

Hermione knocked on the door of the pleasant, gingerbread-style house in the suburbs and waited with a smile on her face until it was opened by the beaming, bespectacled personage inside. "Nana!" she said.

"Oh, Hermione darling! Oh, what a wonderful surprise!" Nana cried, stepping out onto the stoop to embrace her granddaughter. "Come in, come in!" She ushered her inside, all smiles.

Hermione had always been very close to her grandmother, whom she privately thought of as the coolest person she knew. Lillian Graves had been a pioneer woman her whole life. She'd worked on the assembly lines during the Great War and refused to go back to the kitchen afterwards, organizing women into equal rights battalions fighting for women's equality. She had divorced her husband, Claire's father, when he'd stubbornly refused to become enlightened and had then started her own business, a candy store where Hermione had spent many happy hours as a child. Her parents joked that Nana was just trying to give them more business but Nana loved her shop and remained active in it even now that it had new owners. She was a hip old lady who wore wild colors and flowing scarves and always had funky friends over to play maj-jonggh or watch opera on the telly. She collected Beatles memorabilia and tea cozies and she still cut her own grass at age 91. She had been the only member of the family to be delighted to learn that her granddaughter was a witch.

"What brings you by, darling?" Nana said, sitting next to Hermione on the divan, which was actually a chaise lounge covered in silk Lillian had bought in Turkey on one of her many trips abroad. "Not that I'm objecting!"

"I thought you might like to see the invitations," Hermione said. "I just picked them up."

"Oh my yes! Let's see!" Hermione opened the large bag she was carrying, which contained about a dozen small boxes full of the newly printed wedding invitations. "Ooh, very nice. Classy and elegant. Now let me see." She picked one up and read the inscription:

Hermione Ann Granger and Harry James Potter
request the honor of your presence
at the celebration of their marriage
Saturday, November the fifteenth, 2008
at two o'clock in the afternoon

Ceremony and reception to be held at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Aberdeen, Scotland

RSVP by October the first

"Oh, it's lovely," Nana said. "Did you decide about the bakers? I liked that second cake we tried..."

"It's a little early to worry about that, Nana. I'm really trying not to go too nuts. I don't want to frighten Harry into some cave in the wildnerness from which he'll never emerge."

"I don't think that's too likely. That man would crawl across broken glass to marry you." Lillian peered at theinvitations. "Just you and Harry, eh? Aren't your folks miffed not to have their names on the invitations? That's traditional, you know."

"Well...since Harry has no parents I thought it would be awkward. Besides, it's not like they're paying for it."

Nana sighed. "Oh, I wish I could have been lucky enough to marry a rich man."

"You did, Nana."

"Oh, I wish I could have been lucky enough to be in love with that man."

Hermione laughed. "It is a rather nice perk. The rich thing, I mean, not the love thing."

"I constantly brag to my friends that my granddaughter is going to be the wife of a rich man and she's not even marrying him for his money." She looked at her sharply. "You're not, are you?"

"Nana! Of course not!" she exclaimed, laughing. She reached into her bag. "Speaking of which...I have something else for you." She pulled out a picture frame. "I thought you'd like an engagement photo."

"Oh, honey...oh, it's wonderful!" Hermione looked at the picture over Nana's shoulder, smiling. It was nice. They'd gone to a Muggle photographer, seeing as the photos were mostly for Hermione's family who couldn't very well hang a wizard photo on their walls. The photographer had tried many poses, all of which looked phony and staged, until finally he'd called a break. Harry had taken that opportunity to tell Hermione a joke and the photographer had caught them in a completely unguarded moment while they were looking at each other and laughing out loud, beaming wide smiles. "Oh, Hermione...you certainly have caught yourself a handsome husband."

"Nana, don't make it sound like I dangled a worm on a hook in front of his nose!" They both laughed, then Hermione sobered. "Seriously, though...you do approve of him, don't you?"

Lillian patted Hermione's leg, smiling. "I think he's wonderful, darling. And a good thing. I couldn't bear to part with you for anyone less deserving." She got up and took down one of the many photos on the walls, replacing it with the engagement photo. "There." She returned to her seat on the divan. "Are you getting excited?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. It still feels so far away, there's so much to do. Now that my training is over we can start planning in earnest." She smiled. "I suppose I am excited. I'm anxious to be married to him."

"It's a very great adventure, dear. To share your life with another person, to let them see the real you. It's both frightening and wonderful. But the best part is that no matter what happens in life, you're a team. You've always got someone in your corner. That is, until he forbids you to have your own life and you have to divorce the bastard."

Hermione burst out laughing. "Somehow I don't think that'll be a problem."

**********

"I knew the guest list was going to be a problem," Hermione said, fuming.

"It's not a problem!" Harry insisted. "It's a...difference of opinion."

"You can be so stubborn sometimes!"

"I'm not stubborn! I just...intensely don't want to invite them."

"Harry, they raised you."

"Only in the absolute broadest definition of the term."

"Whatever they did, it helped make you who you are. See?" She gestured at the other roommates, who were sitting about the room averting their eyes. "We love who you are."

"I am not inviting the Dursleys. If I'm any good at all it's in spite of them, not because of them. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, the last thing I want is to look out and see Dudley's piggy little face looking back up at me!" He stopped pacing and sat back down next to Hermione on the pit sofa in the living room. Laura was sitting across the room with a book, trying not to laugh, and the other two men of the house were watching a remote Apparation of a Quidditch match from Bombay. "Hermione, sweetheart, love of my life, I am begging you not to make me invite the Dursleys."

She shook her head. "Well, when you say it like that..." She crossed their names off the guest list.

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart," he said, placing a big smacking kiss on her cheek. She smiled and ruffled his hair. He lay back against the cushions. "They wouldn't come, probably."

"Probably not," she agreed. "All those horrible magical people. Still, it's a nice gesture."

"They don't deserve any nice gestures from me," he said, bitterness lacing his voice.

"Harry," she said quietly, "they're your only blood relatives. Like it or not, that's family. Do you really want to cut them off?"

"You're the only family I want," he said, a tone of finality in his voice.

She sighed and went back to the guest list. "Well, I think that's everyone."

"How many?"

"Three hundred and fifty, give or take."

He whistled. "Hoo boy. How can we know that many people?"

"Well, with my family and a few of their friends and our school friends and the Weasleys plus spouses and kids...that's like thirty people right there...and our work friends and our swing dance friends and my Stonehenge friends and my Institute friends and Hogwarts people and various official personages we're more or less obligated to invite..."

"Yeah, I see how that adds up fast."

"And I'm sure we'll think of more in the next few days." She closed her notebook and looked at him. "Do you want to set an upper limit? It's your dime."

"Nope."

"Are you sure? Honey, with the dinner we're planning it'll be a lot of money per person..."

"I'm sure."

She sighed. "I just don't want you to feel the bite later when these bills come in." Harry laughed. "I really don't know how much you're worth, do I?"

"We'll talk about it later. Let's just say that no matter how huge you want to make this wedding it won't make a dent." He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her. "My father was from a wealthy wizarding family, and thanks to my accountant and my investment manager and a rather frugal lifestyle I've managed to increase my inheritance by several orders of magnitude. It's enabled me to avoid certain stresses that other young people experience but by far the best thing it's done for me is made it possible for me to look you in the eye and tell you to plan your dream wedding and not to worry about what it costs. Get a huge beautiful cake and hire a really great band and get a ridiculously expensive gown. Custom tailored, with lace from someplace like Luxembourg or New Guinea. Go for it. If there isn't at least one waiter per guest I'll be very disappointed. About time we enjoyed some of the benefits of my miserly ways."

"You know, the stuff that costs money isn't the stuff that matters. The flowers and the dresses and the party...that's just window dressing. What really matters is you, me, two witnesses and someone official to say 'I now pronounce you husband and wife.' That's all that's important."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Hey!" Laura said from across the room. "Don't let's skimp on the maid of honor's dress, shall we?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Chant," Harry said. He turned back to Hermione. "You decided who else you want?"

She sighed. "Ginny, of course. My cousin Sarah. And I was thinking of asking Cho."

His eyes widened. "You're not serious."

"Don't I sound serious?"

"You want Cho to stand up with you?"

"Well, ever since she got over the silly idea that she still wanted you, we've gotten rather friendly. It would feel strange to have her the only person in the house not in the wedding, what with George and Justin standing up with you."

"I suppose." They all looked up at the sound of someone knocking at the front door. "It's here!" Harry said, jumping up. The others just watched him go, puzzled.

"What's here?" George said. They heard Harry open the door and speak to someone. After a few minutes he reappeared in the doorway.

"Hermione, I have a little present for you," he said, grinning ear to ear.

She tossed her notebook aside and leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. "What is it?"

"Just think of it as a little belated engagement present." He stepped to the side and when Hermione saw what he had when he returned she cried out in delight and jumped up.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried, reaching out for the puppy, a wiggling chocolate brown Cocker spaniel. "Oh, she's beautiful!" Harry grinned as the dog licked Hermione's face enthusiastically. "What made you think of it?"

"Well, I know how much you miss Crookshanks, so I thought..."

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. "I love her, she's beautiful. Oh, it is a she, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's a she."

"What's her name?"

"She doesn't have one yet. What would you like to call her?"

"Oh, gosh. Such a big choice. We don't want her to be picked on in the schoolyard." She held the dog out in front of her and looked in her little scrunchy and fuzzy face. "Puppy, I name you...Lily." The dog responded by licking Hermione's face some more. "I think she likes it!" Hermione laughed. She looked up at Harry and stopped laughing; he looked as though he were about to cry. "Oh, Harry..." She stepped closer to hug him with one arm. He hugged her back and ruffled Lily's fur with one hand.

"It's a lovely name." He kissed her temple while Lily craned her neck to lick his cheek. "If I do say so myself."

**********

Harry trotted into the foyer in his stockinged feet in response to the doorbell. He was the only one in the house at the moment, which was wonderfully peaceful...he should have known it wouldn't last. "Coming!" he called. He opened the front door to find a cheerful looking woman standing on the stoop. She was of average height and very pretty, dressed in a sharp suit with tailored velvet robes and bearing a leather attache case. "Hello," Harry said.

"Hello," she replied. "I'm here to see Hermione Granger."

"Oh, I'm sorry, she's not here right now. Can I help you?"

"Well, my name is Mel McDaniels, I'm a wedding organizer." She stuck out her hand.

"Oh! Nice to meet you! I'm Harry Potter," he said, shaking her hand. Upon hearing his name the woman's smile broadened.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't recognize you!" she said.

"Come in," he said, stepping aside. "Why should you?"

"Oh, you know," she said, laughing. "I do hope I got the day right...I had an appointment to meet with Hermione."

"She probably just got hung up at work. She didn't tell me she'd hired an organizer."

"I hope you don't object!" Mel said with a slightly nervous smile.

"Of course not. Anything to make Hermione's life a little easier."

Mel gave him an appraising glance. "My goodness, where did she find you? Most husbands-to-be turn white as a sheet at the prospect of using my services."

"I find the notion of letting someone else worry about the endless minutiae very logical. Please sit down, I'll ring Hermione." He motioned Mel into the study while he stepped back into the foyer. "Bubble," he said. "Hermione."

After a moment her voice came from the Bubble. "Agent Granger."

"Hey."

"Hey! What's up?"

"Something you forgot?"

"Uh..."

"I have a lovely woman named McDaniels here. Apparently she'd been planning to speak to you."

"Oh, bollocks, I completely forgot. And...I forgot to tell you I was hiring her, didn't I?"

"That's all right. Can you come home now or are you tied up?"

"No, I'll be there shortly. Talk to her until I get there, will you?"

"Sure. Better be quick, though. We might end up with leopard-print bridesmaid's dresses."

"Laura would love that. See you in a few. Love you."

"I love you too. Bye." The bubble winked out and Harry went back into the study, where Mel had installed herself on the couch and begun to spread out her materials on the coffee table before her. Harry sat down opposite her in a wing chair. "Hermione will be here shortly," he said. "But if you have questions, we can..."

"Oh, yes," she said, whipping out a parchpad and a quill. "Now. Hermione has just engaged me, so I know nothing as of yet. When is your wedding?"

"November fifteenth. We have invitations...just a mo," he said, jumping up and dashing to Hermione's desk where the boxes lived. He returned and handed her one.

"Oh, very nice. And how many guests do you expect?"

"So far the guest list is up to 356."

"Wow."

"Indeed."

"And you're holding it where?"

"Up at Hogwarts."

"And your fiancee is Muggle born, is she not?"

"She is."

"Then we'll have to contend with transportation for Muggles to Hogwarts. Will you want selective perception charms?"

Harry frowned. "Huh?"

"I can arrange to have charms put up around all the locations so that any Muggle will see nothing magical, they'll only see a regular ceremony such as they're used to."

"Oh, smashing! Here I thought we'd have to hire some Memory charm wizards. But...some of Hermione's relatives know about wizards."

"Oh, that's all right. We can fine tune the spells, no problem. Now, how about wedding parties? How many?"

"Four on each side...so far. My best man will be my godfather, Sirius Black. Then our friends Remus Lupin, George Weasley and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Hermione's maid of honor is our friend Laura Chant, and then her cousin Sarah Forester and our friends Ginny Weasley and Cho Chang."

"And dresses? Any decisions?"

He smiled. "Not so far. But don't ask me about that, I'm giving the whole dress issue a wide berth. That decision will be completely up to my wife." He stopped short and then chuckled.

Mel frowned, puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just...that's the first time I've called her that."

**********

"Did you remind Ethan to owl me as soon as he gets to..."

"Yep."

"Damn, I'm so twitchy today."

"Don't forget you have to go up to ECHO tomorrow."

Harry rolled his eyes as they rounded the corner. "Why does it always have to be going up there to make the big reports?" ECHO was Enforcement Corps Home Office. Harry was dispatched there with tiresome regularity.

"See that scar?"

"Hmph. Whatever. It's not like they care that much about my big fame."

"Everybody cares about your big fame, boss. Things sounds just that much more convincing coming from you." Napoleon snorted. "I bet even some cheesy-ass pickup line would work for you."

Harry laughed. "What, like 'I thought all the goddesses lived in Greece?'"

"You bet. You're wasting your gifts, boss. You could have so many women it would make my head spin."

Harry shot him a glance. "I don't need so many women. One's enough." They rounded a corner into the I.D. administrative wing, heading for the briefing room where most of the I.D. home staff of officers, about fifty agents, were waiting for them. "Do you have the...oh, okay." He pushed through the doors and into the large, lecture-hall style briefing room. Agents stood around in small groups, chatting and laughing. He saw Hermione at once, standing near Isobel and holding her new I.D. portfolio against her chest. He walked towards the podium, pausing to kiss her cheek. She watched him go, looking a little surprised. He didn't normally go in for public displays, but today he didn't care. He took his place behind the podium as all the agents sat down.

"Good afternoon," he said. "I'll get right to the point." He stuck out his hand and Napoleon placed in it an object from the briefcase he carried. Harry held it up before the audience. "Anyone know what this is?"

The officers exchanged glances. "A gun?" someone in the back offered.

"Yes, a gun," Harry said, examining the weapon. "It's the gun that killed Galino." A rustle went through the audience. "We're not here to mourn him, though I know we all do. He was an excellent agent and a friend to all of us, and he will be missed. But he shouldn't have had to die." He set down the gun on the podium, where it commanded a certain attention. "Two shots, point blank range. Galino didn't stand a chance." He stepped out from behind the podium. "It's a gun, sure, but anyone knowanything else about it?" Silence. "It's a thirty-eight caliber semi-automatic Beretta. It's a Muggle weapon, used by a Muggle to kill one of our own. This is unacceptable, people."

Isobel stood up. "Are you saying you want us to start carrying sidearms, Harry?"

"No. We're wizards, not gangsters. But we need to know more about these Muggle weapons. We need to be prepared. A gunshot is a lot faster than a curse. If Galino, who I doubt had ever seen a gun in his life, had been prepared he might not have tried to defend himself with a curse. He'd have been better off to have run, or hit the guy. And what if he'd gotten the weapon away from him? Would he have known what to do with it? How to disarm it, or even fire it?"

"What do you propose?" Henry said.

"I have a few contacts among Muggles who do the same job among them as we do among wizards. A friend of mine in the American Central Intelligence Agency, a woman who knows about the wizarding world, has agreed to come and give us some lessons in these Muggle firearms. You'll be given instructions tomorrow as to how this is all going to work." He sighed. "All right, dismissed."

The officers all stood up and most of them left. Hermione drifted up to the front of the room along with Henry and Remus. Harry and Napoleon came down to the floor to meet them. "So, Harry. Who's this friend of yours?" Remus asked.

"Her name is Terkazel Hainsley, she and her twin brother Taxim are flying in. He's her partner at the agency." The others hardly heard this last, as they were watching Napoleon, whose mouth was hanging open while his face flushed bright red. Harry glanced at him. "Sorry, Napoleon."

"Bloody hell, Harry! You could have warned me Terk was coming in!"

"I kind of thought you'd figure it out! It's not as if I have dozens and dozens of friends in the CIA!"

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked. "Do you know this woman, Napoleon? Friend of yours?"

"I wouldn't exactly call her a friend, she's my bleeding ex-wife."

"Why, Jones," Remus said with raised eyebrows. "I didn't know you'd been married! And to a Muggle, no less."

"Well, I was young and stupid."

Harry grinned. "And now you're what? Slightly less young and stupid?"

"Oh, ha ha, boss. Still, I don't relish seeing her. And Tax? He's a bloody horror! He'll probably want to rip my head off for messing with his precious sister. He hates me."

"Hard to believe," Harry said, mock-thoughtfully. Hermione nudged him sharply and he cleared his throat. "Rather, I, uh...well, she's just doing me a professional favor, Jones. You don't even have to speak to her if you don't want to."

"Oh, this has 'nightmare' written all over it."

The small group left the briefing room, Napoleon grumbling all the way. "Think of it this way, Napoleon," Hermione said, "she can tell us all sorts of amusing stories about you."

"Great. Please excuse me while I go slit my wrists."

**********

Hermione sat next to Isobel and Shay Daley, who was also apprenticing in the SIR division. They were in one of the large downstairs multi-purpose rooms, where a shooting range had been set up. The gathered agents were talking amongst themselves uneasily...none of them were comfortable with guns, and most of them, Hermione included, had never even seen one up close.

The door opened behind them and Harry entered, followed by two people in military fatigues. The first was a petite blond-haired woman with a pert face that bore a serious expression. Her hair was bound up in a knot from which strands escaped to hang fetchingly about her face. Hermione sensed most of the men in the room drawing themselves up a bit. She was carrying a large case over one shoulder. It had to be heavy but she didn't appear to be having any trouble with it.

After her came a taller man. He looked significantly older than the woman though Harry had said they were twins. He was thin but very wiry, and his face was leathery and creased. His arms were covered with colorful tattoos; he had long muttonchop sideburns and brown hair that brushed his collar. He looked very tough, like the lead guitarist of a heavy metal band. He too was carrying a large gray plastic case.

Harry led them to the front where a few tables had been set up. They set the cases down and faced their audience. "Everyone, this is Terk and Tax Hainsley. They're here to show us a few things, please give them your attention." He sat down near the tables while Terk stepped up and opened the first case.

"Good morning," she said, drawing a large handgun out of the case. She slapped a magazine into it and tossed it to her brother. "Harry's asked us to give you the crash course. Don't expect to be experts, but we'll spend some time handling these weapons and firing them. I understand y'all don't want to be using these regularly, which I can respect, but if you're going to be facing Muggles on a regular basis, especially armed Muggles, well, forewarned is forearmed...pardon the pun."

She held up a gun. "This is a Walther PPK. Sound familiar?"

"Isn't that James Bond's gun?" said Lloyd Llewellyn.

"Very good. But knowing that won't help you if you find yourself looking down the barrel of one." She began pointing out the various parts of the gun, then handed it to Isobel to pass around. "Go ahead, play with it. It's not loaded."

When the gun came to Hermione she handled it gingerly, then passed it along. She tried to pay attention as Terk held up gun after gun and discussed them, but they all began to blend together. Eventually she moved on to rifles and automatic weapons, though she didn't linger on them. "Well, let's try firing now. It's not too hard to fire a gun, but it isn't easy to do it well. In a way you're lucky...I'm sure it would take me a lot longer to learn how to use one of your wands." She turned towards Harry. "Care to go first, Harry?"

He stood up, shifting a bit uneasily. She handed him a rather large gun. "Safety's on the top." Everyone got up to crowd around. "Now, just put your hands..."

That was as far as she got. Harry stepped up to the line and raised the gun, one hand around the stock and the other supporting it. He looked down towards the target and fired six shots in rapid succession, his hands steady. No one moved as the sound of the reports echoed away. Terk said nothing, she just pressed the button that brought the paper target towards them. She held up the rough outline of a person, the six shots clustered close over the heart. She blinked up at him.

He handed her the gun. "Uh...I kind of already knew how."

"I guess," she said. "Next."

And so they split up into smaller groups and lined up to give it a try. The silent, golem-like Tax walked down the line correcting their posture while Terk called out the orders. Harry sat behind them, staring into space and not even really watching. Hermione did her best, but the gun jerked so in her hand she could scarcely hit the target. Terk made light of it, saying that they weren't after proficiency, just familiarity, but she still felt inadequate.

When her turn was over she went and sat down next to Harry. He said nothing. Hermione thought for a moment before she spoke in a low voice. "You've never fired a gun before in your life, have you?"

He sighed. "No," he whispered, not looking at her.

"I guess you have a knack for it."

"What are you saying?"

"Don't you think it's a little odd?"

"Maybe I was a sharpshooter in a past life."

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" he said sharply, facing her at last. "So it's weird, so what? Welcome to my world! So I'm a really good shot...with no practice...what does it mean? Probably nothing! I was good at flying right away, too! You picked up Transfigurations like you'd been doing it all your life!"

"All right, calm down. I'm just saying..."

"Well, maybe you should keep your ideas to yourself!" he snapped.

Hermione sat back with a hurt expression. She looked away, troubled. It wasn't like Harry to speak to her so harshly.

She heard him sigh. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I've just got a lot on my mind."

She turned towards him and grasped his hand. "Then tell me about it! Can't you share it with me? You've seemed distant today, preoccupied. What's wrong?"

"I don't know," he whispered, gripping her fingers tightly. "But no matter what it is, I shouldn't snap at you."

"Better me than someone else. At least you know I'll forgive you."

Before he could reply the large silver I.D. bubble appeared near the ceiling. "CODE BLUE. REPORT TO DIVISION BRIEFING. CODE BLUE. REPORT TO DIVISION BRIEFING."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and headed for the door. A code blue was an call for deployment. Agents were being called away to a situation. Harry paused near the door. "Later," he whispered, and kissed her cheek. She smiled and squeezed his hand before they ran off in different directions.

**********

Hermione crouched across the street, peering through a chain-link fence with Omnioculars. Her heart was racing and she felt vaguely sweaty, for this was her first real crisis situation.

Across the street from her hiding place was a wizard elementary school, and inside was a madman. A disturbed wizard had walked into the school and begun throwing curses right and left. They knew that one teacher had already fallen to the Avada Kedavra curse. They suspected that several children were injured. The local Enforcers had managed to evacuate most of the children and staff but some were still inside, as was the hostile.

Hermione and two of the more senior SIR officers were set up across the street with their surveillance equipment. The CCO division had a team ready to infiltrate the building. They had to be careful, because any action could prompt the attacker to harm more innocent people. The Enforcers were keeping the crowds back, crowds which included a number of hysterical parents. "You see anything, Granger?" asked Agent Malcolm from behind her.

"CCO team is in place," she reported. "I've got full surveillance of the west face of the building including the playground." She spoke into the tiny Bubble hovering near her lips. "Beta team, report."

"We're in place," came Shay's voice over the Bubble. "Nothing from this side."

Hermione looked over her shoulder to where Malcolm had set up a square of biosand in a rectangle roughly the shape of the school. He got out his wand. "Ex ocularum vitalae," he whispered. A shower of sparks flowed from his wand and settled in the space over the biosand. The sparks were clustered in one corner near the ground and one slightly apart. "Delta team, come in," Malcolm said.

"Go ahead." Harry's voice.

"It looks like the hostages are being held in the northwest corner of the building on the ground floor. The hostile is with them."

"Copy that." Hermione watched through her Omnioculars as the dark-robed team scuttled over to the corresponding corner of the playground.

"I'm seeing two other life signs, but weaker."

"Position?"

"Southeast corner."

She watched Harry make some hand motions and two agents detached from the group and scurried around to the opposite corner. Everyone held their breath as they slipped inside the building, appearing as sparks inside Malcolm's transapparation. They approached the fading sparks of injured people, following Malcolm's directions. Suddenly one spark detached from the larger group and rushed towards them. "Heads up, he's coming your way," Malcolm hissed. "Abort!"

Hermione watched the school as suddenly there was an eruption of lights inside the building. "Shit," Malcolm muttered as the large group of sparks scattered. Children began pouring out the door nearest them. Hermione watched with mounting dread as the two CCO agents ran around from the other side carrying limp children in their arms. They headed for the mediwizards.

"Where's the hostile?" Hermione hissed.

"Coming out now," Malcolm said. "Brace up, Harry," he barked into his Bubble. "Move in, now!"

As the children ran in every direction Hermione saw the half-dozen robed wizards suddenly jump up and run across the playground, crouched low. The attacker burst through the doors, brandishing two wands and shouting curses right and left. Hermione's fingers gripped the Omnioculars tightly "Get down!" Harry yelled. He raised his hands with fingers splayed and Hermione saw a bright flash around each of the children in the yard, and then she saw one of the attacker's curses bounce right off one of them. "Down on the ground!"

The attacker was yelling something she couldn't make out, but he wouldn't be a danger much longer...several agents were creeping up behind him. Harry stood up, holding his wand out. "Drop them!" he yelled at the attacker. "Right now!" The hostile was screaming incoherently. "You're surrounded, surrender!" Harry yelled. The hostile showed no sign of relenting, even though his curses weren't having much effect on anyone now. Harry made a hand signal and the agents behind him tackled the hostile, knocking him to the ground. They yanked his wands away from him.

"Okay, let's go," Malcolm said. They surveillance team got up and trotted across the street to help secure the area and check the children, who were all unharmed. Hermione walked up to where Harry stood with his hands on his hips, watching as his agents chained the hostile, who was now weeping.

She touched his arm and he turned towards her...and when he did, she forgot what she was going to say, what she was feeling, even where they were. She backed up a step, because his face was blank and his eyes were dead. She tried to speak but couldn't...the man looking at her wasn't Harry.

Before she could react he turned back towards the attacker. Without warning he rushed at him, knocking him to the ground. The agents holding him weren't prepared and for a moment just stood there gaping as Harry proceeded to thrash the man, punching him repeatedly across the face and slamming his head against the pavement.

Agents crowded around to pull him off but he held fast, seeming unnaturally strong in his rage. Hermione ran forward to crouch next to him. "Harry!" she screamed. His eyes were far away, unresponsive. Panic flooded her...what in God's name was happening to him?

Finally Remus and Malcolm managed to drag him off and haul him to his feet. Everyone stared at him, shocked. "Harry, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Lupin roared.

Harry didn't reply, he just jerked his arms out of their grasp and thrust his hands forward, towards the hostile, who was back on his feet. A burst of brilliant light leapt from his fingers and struck the man in the chest, knocking him off his feet. He flew ten yards through the air and hit the chain-link fence at the side of the yard. Malcolm and Lupin grabbed Harry and pinned his arms to his sides. "Get him out of here!" Henry yelled, his face angry. He looked at Hermione, who could only stand there and stare with her mouth hanging open. She could hardly believe what she was seeing.

Before Malcolm and Lupin could drag Harry away, he suddenly stiffened in their grasp and sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp, falling to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Hermione rushed forward and knelt by his side, drawing his head and shoulders into her lap. "Get a doctor!" she snapped to anyone who might hear. She was vaguely aware of someone running away to do so, but she hardly paid attention. She looked down at Harry's slack face, terrified. Henry and Remus crouched on his other side. "Get away from him!" she yelled at them. What have you done to him? her mind raged, though some part of her knew that this was nothing that they had done.

"Hermione..." Remus whispered. "What's happening to him?"

She held him closer and rocked him gently, her tears falling unnoticed onto his upturned face. "I don't know, Remus. I don't know."