Dark Obsession

Chapter 2

It was kind of like watching a circus, Harry thought with amusement as he sat sipping tea and perusing the morning's Daily Prophet. A one woman circus. He'd made the mistake of chuckling slightly...once. Now, all he could do was shoot supportive glances at Faren as Hermione careened from room to room like a rogue Bludger. The new nanny looked harassed and slightly comical, trying to keep up with the multitude of instructions his wife kept issuing. When she reminded Faren for the fourth time to feed Jamie lunch, Harry tried to step in again.

He waited until she swept into the kitchen and then called on his latent Quidditch training to nip his arm around her waist and pull her into his lap. He was prepared for struggling and clamped both arms around her tightly.

"Harry, what the devil are you doing? I need -" That was as far as she got. Harry's lips were in the way after that. In deference to their audience, he kept the kiss light enough not to make Faren uncomfortable, but deep enough to sidetrack his wife.

Once she'd stopped struggling, he loosened his hold and met her gaze. He knew if he laughed, it would be the last sound he made before she charmed his voice into something embarrassing, so he did his level best to keep his face straight.

"Hermione," he said softly, "we're only going to be a mile away."

She opened and closed her mouth several times, obviously searching for a rebuttal. Finally, he felt the tension ebb slightly and let himself grin when she gave a self-depreciating chuckle.

"I know. And I'm sorry," she directed this at Faren, who nodded in response. "It's just that today is my first day of classes. My first full day. I've never been apart from her for this long."

"And that's a hard situation for a control freak to be in," Harry supplied, again to Faren who smiled this time. Harry smiled too until Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

Jamie's cries interrupted them and Faren, looking grateful for the escape, went to get her from the crib. Hermione summoned the baby's bottle from the refrigerator and placed the warming spell on it before addressing Harry.

"I am not a control freak," she said quietly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Who color-coded her class notes in first year? Who kept track of every grade she ever received on any test? Who alphabetized the pantry last week?"

Hermione threw him a baleful glance before squaring her shoulders. "Exactly. That's called being obsessive-compulsive, Harry, not a control freak."

This time, Harry could no more control the laughter than he could stop the rising of the sun. And this time, she joined him. Faren brought Jamie in a moment later and placed her in Harry's arms. Hermione watched as he fed Jamie, eyes misting like they always did at the sight of their twin dark heads together.

They both kissed Jamie goodbye half an hour later and fastened their cloaks for the walk through the chilly morning air. Harry paused only briefly to ask Faren to forward any owls to him at the school.

"You expecting something?"

"Nothing important," Harry said casually. Hermione raised an eyebrow. He gave in to the inevitable. "I sent an owl to Seamus yesterday. I wanted to see if I could get a copy of the Muggle police report on the fire. Someone sent me that clipping for a reason, Hermione. I'm just trying to figure out why."

"Honestly, Harry. You need to stop reading those mysteries Mum sends you. I still think it's a waste of time, but if it'll satisfy your curiosity and Seamus doesn't mind..."

"You're the one that kept going on about closure, Hermione. I thought you'd be behind me on this."

"Oh, I am," she said, "I'm always behind you. I just think you're wasting your time. Even if it wasn't a close friend, it's not like your life with the Dursleys was any big secret. Any witch or wizard could have seen that article in the paper and sent it to you. I just don't see great hulking mysteries behind simple things arriving in the post, I suppose."

Harry dropped the subject, knowing there would be no convincing her without proof. She hadn't changed one iota in that regard. He just wanted to get rid of the nagging sense at the base of his skull that something wasn't quite right about the whole incident.

They lapsed into silence for a bit, until Harry noticed her fourth furtive glance behind them towards their house.

"She's going to be fine, love."

"Which one?"

Harry chuckled. "Both, I guess. You all set for your first day?"

"I'm not exactly a novice at this, you know," she replied indignantly.

"True, but it is your first term teaching more than one class."

"Says the wizened old professor," she said, smacking him on the rear. "How about you?" she asked, sobering slightly. She knew what today was, what he'd be starting with his seventh years. And she knew it was the reason he'd tossed and turned most of the previous night.

When she'd been living in America, not knowing who she really was, they had connected in their dreams. Sometimes, she could still see what went on while his conscious mind rested.

Last night had been one of those times.

"I'm okay, I think," Harry said truthfully. "It's been a long time since fourth year. And before you get that look on your face, Hermione Potter, I'm not closing it off or refusing to deal with it. I'm just saying that so much has happened since Crouch taught us those curses, that it's little more than a bad memory."

"And yet you dreamt of a graveyard last night, Harry."

"Yes, I did. And you pulled me out of it, didn't you?"

"That wasn't me," Hermione said suddenly, a slight blush to her cheeks as she vividly recalled what had happened after her dream self had distracted Harry away from the graveyard. "That was your subconscious' version of me. Which reminds me, I'd like to know exactly how you got that idea into your head?"

"Out of the question then?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Maybe," she answered cryptically before darting through the oak front doors ahead of him. He caught her arm, pulled her into a very familiar looking broom cupboard off the entrance hall and kissed her until she was panting.

"Okay, probably not," she grinned.

They were still chuckling when they parted for their separate corridors, and Harry was eternally grateful that professors wore billowing robes.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Ten minutes later, Harry stood in front of his seventh year students and tried to look confident. He'd been blasé with Hermione earlier, trying to put her mind at ease as well as his own. But the time had come to teach his students about the baser aspects of fighting the Unforgivable Curses.

The time had come to face another demon from his past.

"If you'll all settle in," Harry said, forcing his voice to sound even. He waited while they shifted books and ended conversations to turn towards him. "You've been studying the Dark Arts for six years now," he began, "and you may think you know all there is. But there is much more to learn. If any of you are thinking of becoming Aurors, you'll get more intense training there, but it's my job this year to give you a base. A running start at fighting and repelling those aspects of the Dark Arts that you may encounter."

"Prior to June of this year, only two of the Unforgivable Curses had reasonably effective counters. You can impede the Imperius Curse by recognizing the sensation that fills your mind and using that knowledge to fight it. And you can block the pain of the Cruciatus Curse with the counter written by Dr. Longbottom two years ago. In this year's studies, we will be practicing the former, but not the latter.

"It is not well known yet," Harry allowed a slight smile to tug at the corners of his mouth, "but there is now a counter for Avada Kedavra as well."

A cacophony of whispering voices met that statement, and Harry felt pride fill him.

"Professor Granger spent most of last year working on perfecting this counter and her efforts were successfully employed only recently."

A hand shot up in the rear of the classroom and Harry paused. "Yes?"

"Does that mean the user no longer disappears or loses their memory?" asked a slightly red faced boy with a smirk. Daniel, if he remembered correctly. He saw Annika glare over at him.

"That's correct, Daniel," Harry commented and tried to keep his face blank as a wave of painful memories crowded into his mind. He forced them out rapidly. He would not allow that section of his past to influence his future any longer. Nor would he allow his anger at the young boy's smirk to show itself.

"Will we be learning it?" Annika asked.

"No, not in this class. As of this moment, it's being broken down and taught at the Aurors Institute. For this year, we will concentrate on Imperius and some of the other, less life threatening Dark Arts you are likely to encounter."

Harry held his students in rapt attention for the remainder of the double period, promising them hands on practice at fighting the Imperius curse in their next class. He felt the air rush from his lungs as the bell signaled the end of the lesson. It hadn't been so hard after all.

*^*^*^*^*^*

Harry headed to the staff room rather than the Great Hall for lunch after class. There was considerably less food, but had the benefit of not having to watch over hundreds of students at the same time. For this luxury, the staff took turns in the Great Hall. This, fortunately, was not his week.

He found Hermione sitting at one of the tables, studying something intently with Minerva. Sara was standing near the rear of the room, slowly pouring water over a tea bag, her inattention causing it to spill over.

"Careful," Harry said as he took the kettle from her and replaced it on the counter. He almost wished he'd stayed where he was and let her discover the spill on her own. The moment she realized he was in front of her, the cup went crashing to the floor. With a clatter of china on wood, tea went everywhere. Luckily, his robes soaked up most of the tea and he wasn't scalded. Neither was Sara, unless you counted the bright red spots on her cheeks.

"Mr...Harry. I'm so sorry," Sara spluttered, reaching for her wand and cleaning the mess with a swish and flick.

"No harm done, Sara. Are you all right?"

Sara glanced briefly at Hermione and Minerva, then turned her attention back to Harry. "I'm fine." Before Harry could tell her she didn't look fine, she'd left the staff room entirely, her long blonde hair trailing behind her like a cloak.

Shaking his head slightly, Harry headed towards Hermione. Neither she nor Minerva looked up when he sat down. They were too busy poring over several pieces of parchment. "Hello?" he joked, leaning over to kiss Hermione's cheek.

"Look at this," Hermione turned towards him and thrust a piece of parchment into his hands. Her eyes were bright with excitement, and she seemed to be having trouble breathing properly.

Harry scanned the parchment in his hands. Hermione was being asked to leave that night for the Aurors Institute. They were about to begin instruction on her counter and wanted her to address the students, as well as the current Aurors in residence, before they began. The envelope contained a portkey that would activate at seven that evening. She was to plan a three day absence.

Harry felt pride over his wife's accomplishments. At the same time, he felt a pit form in his stomach as he read the dates. She'd be gone for three days. For the first time since their wedding, they'd be separated. True, he'd spent a miserable two weeks living in the Astronomy Tower earlier that year, but at least he'd still seen her every day.

Hermione seemed to realize the focus of his thoughts and reached over to caress his hand.

"Is it possible, Minerva?" Harry asked, wondering about her classes. "Will you be able to find a substitute?"

"Not a worry about that, Harry. I'll teach them myself if I have to. This is an opportunity of a lifetime, and there is no way I'd let her miss it."

The bell rang just then and the other professors headed out of the staff room towards their mid morning lessons. Neither Harry nor Hermione moved. Once they were alone, Harry stood, taking Hermione with him and wrapping his arms around her.

"Are you all right with this?" Hermione asked quietly after he let go of her lips.

"Of course I am," Harry grinned. "I've always wanted to know what that place is like. Now you can tell me. Minerva's right, this is not an opportunity to miss. Just so long as those trainees know that you're there to teach them about the counter and nothing else."

"As if," Hermione laughed as they left the staff room for their own classes.

Hermione was just about to turn down the Muggle Studies corridor when a flash of blonde hair caught her eye.

"Mariah?" she called.

The other witch turned suddenly towards her. It was Mariah, but she looked quite distracted.

"Hello, Hermione," she said softly.

"What are you doing at the castle?"

"I'm not at the castle," Mariah said in the same low tone, repeating the sentence several times before walking away.

When Hermione reached her classroom five minutes later, she had no memory of seeing Mariah there at all.

*^*^*^*^*^

All in all, Ron thought later, it didn't take nearly as long as he'd expected it to. He'd become quite adept at cooling Mariah's temper over the past year. This time had taken all of his considerable skill and a few well-timed ducks, but at least she wasn't heaving crystal across the room anymore. At least, he didn't think she was.

When she'd stormed through the shop half an hour ago, he'd taken one look at her face and turned the open sign to closed and followed her up the stairs. By the time he'd found her, she'd just finished placing a silencing charm over the bedroom where Rianne was napping and had chucked her first goblet at the wall.

"I hate this, Ron," she shouted as the glass shattered. "I had to Persuade Hermione today. She saw me at the castle, and I had to make her forget it. She's my best friend; she trusts me and I just betrayed that trust. All because that...." The rest was lost in a string of expletives that had even Ron's ears burning.

"Angel?" he said tentatively, still on guard although it had been nearly two minutes since any glass had shattered.

"What?" she spit out, using her wand to clean up the mess.

"Why don't you just tell her? Tell all of them?" He squashed the urge to crouch when she picked up another goblet, only relaxing when she placed it on the table.

"I can't, Ron. You know that. Besides, what good would it do?"

Ron sighed, knowing she was right. He loved Mariah more with each passing day, but was beginning to rue the day he'd ever heard the word Diviner. Their methods and their secrecy were wearing on Mariah and on him. He might understand the reasons behind it, that didn't mean he had to like it.

They'd just returned the apartment to normal when a pair of owls arrived and began a near comical struggle to be the first through the window. Ron, recognizing one, told Hedwig to let the other one in first. She did not appear pleased and nipped his ear a bit painfully before she left.

Ron was just unrolling Harry's note when he saw Mariah's face redden again.

"Oh, I don't believe this," Mariah growled, crumpling up the parchment in her hand and throwing it. "That's just it. Loyalty is one thing, but she's pushing the bounds of an old friendship too far."

Ron shook his head slowly and turned his attention to Harry's note.

Ron - Hermione's leaving town for a few days tonight. Auror's Institute. How about meeting at our house after Rianne's asleep for a bit of a wizard's night?

"Mariah?" Ron said, his voice shaky. She must have picked up on his tone or heard his thoughts, because she was at his side a second later. Their eyes met after she scanned the note.

"Hermione's going away?" They asked each other in unison with equal amounts of dread and foreboding.

*^*^*^*^*

It took Hermione a bit longer than she expected to clear her desk for the few days she'd be gone. But she was at least confident that her classes would have plenty to do in her absence and that no detail had been overlooked.

She walked in the front door of the house, surprised to hear laughter from the lounge and went straight there to investigate. Harry was sitting on the floor with Jamie in his lap. Sirius' face was in their fireplace. At least she thought it was Sirius. His face was screwed up in such a comical expression, it was nearly unrecognizable. Jamie was laughing, though, so she assumed he'd achieved his goal.

"I'd better be off, Harry, if I'm going to get in touch with Remus. He's been dodging me lately, but we'll ambush him tonight."

"Right then. Until later?"

"I'll be there at eight, dragging Moony by the scruff if need be." His head disappeared with a small pop, and Hermione walked fully into the room, removing her cloak.

"Tonight?" she said when Harry stood to kiss her.

"Yes. As you're leaving me bereft, I thought it only fitting that I console myself with my true companions."

"You want a night to sit around and badmouth witches and tell nasty jokes," Hermione corrected.

"That, too," Harry grinned. He was just about to pull her into his arms when a throat cleared somewhere over Harry's shoulder. Faren was standing just outside the room, looking a little uneasy.

"Is this the letter, Mr. Potter?" she asked, fastening her own cloak and indicating the envelope in her hand.

"Yes. You sure you don't mind walking it down there?"

"Not in the slightest. Shall I take Jamie in her pram?"

"That would be perfect."

Hermione was about to raise a protest, but he silenced her with a look. Once the nanny had left on her errand, Harry wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her into a deep kiss.

"What was that all about?" she asked when Harry finally let her up for air.

"I thought we could have a little goodbye time in private," Harry grinned, taking her hand and leading her towards the stairs.

"And the letter?" she laughed, her pulse increasing out of sheer anticipation.

"A ruse. I told her I didn't want to use Hedwig as it's going so far away. She'll take it down to the post office and send it off. The envelope will disintegrate five minutes after the owl takes flight."

They'd just reached the stairs, but a knock at the door halted their progress. Growling, Harry turned to open it.

"Bloody fabulous timing, Malfoy," Harry scowled.

Draco looked from one to the other, then cleared his throat. "I won't keep you as I've obviously interrupted something important. I just wanted to let you know that I won't be able to make it tonight."

Hermione took in the pair of them and told Harry she'd be upstairs packing.

"Why?" Harry asked once she'd left.

"Harry, I realize we've all become friends over the past year, but I think this might be pushing it a bit too hard. It would be different if it was just the three of us, but I seriously doubt that Lupin or Black would welcome me into the family fold." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Draco stopped him with an upraised hand. "That's nothing personal against either of them, Harry. It's just the way it is. Think about it this way - how eager would you be to join Severus and me at the Three Broomsticks?"

Harry didn't even try to stop the shudder. And because of the mental image Draco had given him, he didn't try to change the other man's mind. Besides, he thought, as he closed the door, he had other more important matters to take care of at the moment.

When they heard the front door close forty minutes later, Hermione sprang from the bed and dressed hurriedly. As always, they'd gotten so caught up in each other, they hadn't noticed the time slipping away. Harry threw on his old clothes and went down to take Jamie and send Faren home for the night while Hermione threw clothes into a trunk.

Harry was sitting on the couch with their daughter when Hermione joined them, pausing to end the levitation spell on the trunk before walking over to them. Jamie squirmed when she saw her and Hermione cuddled the pink bundle into her arms, fighting back a few tears. She hadn't let herself dwell on leaving Jamie, on being away from her for three days, because then she'd never pick up that portkey to the Institute. But her counter was as much her creation as Jamie was and she wanted to ensure it was taught, and understood, properly. That didn't make it hurt any less, though.

"I've never left her, Harry," she said softly. "How can I do this? What kind of mother leaves her infant daughter?"

"A professional one, Hermione," Harry soothed, stroking the hair back from her face and wiping at the tears with his fingers. "This is the chance of a lifetime, Hermione, you can't let it pass. Jamie and I will be just fine."

The clock chimed the hour in the kitchen. According to the letter, her portkey would be viable until ten past seven. Hermione kissed Jamie, and then Harry, one last time before walking to her trunk. "I love you," she said, the vague shimmer of tears still evident in her voice.

"We love you, too." Harry took one of Jamie's hands and helped the baby wave goodbye to her mum.

The portkey activated the moment she touched it, and a second later, Hermione was gone.

"Well, love," Harry said to Jamie as he lifted her to his shoulder, his voice a bit thick with his own sorrow at watching her leave, "we've got a party to plan for. All ready to wind your granddad around your little finger?"

^*^*^*^*^

Harry and Ron paused on the staircase before returning to the lounge. Sirius and Remus were apparently in the middle of some argument, and they didn't want to interrupt. They were just about to head back upstairs quietly, but decided to forgo it when they heard their names.

"Remus, you didn't see them day to day back then. I'm still convinced that's when it really began, even if they were too thick to realize it."

"That may be, Sirius, but I still say Ron had more than a passing fancy for her. Doesn't matter if she knew, or if Harry knew. The rest of the castle did. Minerva told me of the fighting, the silences...apparently, the odds were four to one that Ron and Hermione would be dating by the time they took their OWLs."

"Rubbish," Sirius growled. "I don't care what the odds were running, or what anyone else said at the time. When they came for me that night, I could just sense it. And I continued to sense it all through the letters and visits following that. There was never anyone else for Harry but Hermione...and the same went for her."

"Are we interrupting?" Harry said casually as he and Ron strode back in and seated themselves. "Or would you like us to leave so you can continue discussing our love lives?"

They both had the good grace to look abashed. Remus, however, wouldn't be dissuaded.

"Am I wrong?" he asked simply.

"Completely," said Harry.

"Not entirely," said Ron.

The room went silent. Harry turned to Ron, not even bothering to hide the shock. "What do you mean, not entirely?"

"Just what I said, Harry. Not entirely. I think it's safe enough to say now, given that you're happily married and I'm happily engaged. But Hermione was my first crush. Well, the first girl I noticed, at any rate. And I'm staking our entire friendship on your silence over this, Harry. Because she doesn't know and I'd like to keep it that way. I think she may have had an idea of the direction of my thoughts - especially after that whole Yule Ball fiasco - but she never said anything. And neither did I."

"But, why...?"

Ron cut Harry off with a wave of his hand. "Remember that summer, Harry? Right after the Triwizard Tournament, when Dumbledore finally let you come back to the Burrow?"

"Of course I do. Hermione came for the last week of the summer holidays. She'd just gotten over the flu or something."

Sirius cleared his throat then; Remus quickly followed suit. Ron swallowed audibly. "She's never told you?"

"Told me what?" Harry asked, feeling like he was stepping into someone else's life.

"She didn't have the flu, Harry. She'd been suffering from horrendous nightmares all summer. She hadn't slept since we'd left school -- not properly, anyway. She was writing to all three of us by then. I know she wrote to you as well, but that her letters were mostly filled with lies about how great her summer was."

Harry nodded vaguely, remembering how good it had felt to get mail that didn't mention anything about school, or Voldemort, but just about the vagaries of Hermione's day.

"Mum wrote and asked Claudia if Hermione could come and stay with us, telling her we´d have you as well, Harry. They both thought that if she could see with her own eyes that you were alive and well, that the nightmares might stop. And they did. She told me later that she'd slept the whole night through for the first time in months once we were all together again." Ron paused, gathering his thoughts. He could read Harry nearly as well as Hermione, and he knew what Harry was thinking. And he knew humor was the only way to diffuse that.

"So there I was, fifteen years old, just discovering what girls were all about, and the object of my affection spends four hours crying in my arms over another man." He heaved a dramatic sigh and placed a hand over his heart.

Harry raised an eyebrow towards his best friend, not really knowing how to feel about what he'd just heard. Had he really been that thick? He'd seen the fighting between his two best friends as nothing more than their ordinary bickering. He'd never imagined that Ron had serious feelings for Hermione...but now he knew differently. Now he knew that Ron had had romantic feelings for Hermione. He also knew that he'd trampled all over those feelings. Because it had been during fifth year that he'd started to realize his own feelings for Hermione. Fifth year was when he'd begun lamenting to his best friend about the change in his heart.

"Harry?" Ron said, knowing the faraway expression on Harry's face. He was brooding again.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry said, thickly.

"Bollocks to that, mate," Ron laughed. "One thing you should note here, Harry. Sirius was dead right earlier. There was never anyone else for Hermione. Or for you. Once I realized that, I decided it would be more fun to sit back and watch it happen. That's probably my only regret. Maybe if I'd done more to help the pair of you get on with it, she wouldn't've...you wouldn't've...."

Silence reigned supreme for a while as each of the room's occupants mulled over what could have been. In the end, it was Jamie that broke the silence. Sirius stood and walked to the staircase.

"I'll get her, Harry," he grinned.

"Just let her fuss for a bit, Sirius. You'll spoil her."

"Check under the description of 'grandfather', Harry. Spoiling her is my right and my obligation."

A brief, somewhat tense chuckle filled the room. When Sirius returned a moment later, cradling Jamie in his arms and seating himself in the rocker by the fire, he had obviously decided a change was in order.

"So, Remus, tell us about your love life."

Jamie found herself being rocked back to sleep with the sounds of Remus' protestations and laughter from her father, grandfather and uncle.

*^*^*^*

Draco sat at the bar, studying his old professor closely. Something was wrong with Severus and he hadn't a clue how to draw the man out. Granted, he wasn't a man given to smiling but once in a millennium, but Draco knew him well enough to see the difference. And because Severus had helped him, simply by being there for him at times when his own father wasn't, Draco wanted to return the favor.

"I'm surprised you're not with Potter and Weasley," the older man said softly. "I heard Potter in the staffroom earlier today talking about a wizard's night or some such rubbish."

Draco smiled. "Well, he did invite me. But an evening with Remus Lupin and Sirius Black was not my idea of a fun time."

"I'd rather stick needles in my eyes as well," Severus nodded grimly. Draco noticed the way his former professor's eyes kept darting up to the mirror behind the bar. For a fleeting moment, he thought Severus might be looking at the reflection of a blonde in the mirror, but dismissed that notion immediately. "You're getting quite close with that lot."

"Does that bother you?" Draco asked quietly.

"Not as much as you might think," the potions master said with the ghost of a smile. "I could blather on about the love of a good woman and the warmth of close friends, but I won't. It just does me good to see you happy, Draco. No one deserves it more."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Severus he wanted the same thing for him, but it was uneasy ground to breach. Close as they were, Draco had never ventured into his teacher's personal life. But something in the man's face made him press on where he would usually have detoured.

"And what about you, Severus? Are you happy?"

Severus' eyes darted back up to the mirror before coming to rest on the glass in front of him again. "I'm content, Draco."

Any further examinations over Severus' personal life were clearly not on the agenda, because before Draco could even open his mouth, he began talking about the Slytherin Quidditch team's dismal prospects for the Cup this year.

Out of respect, Draco allowed the subject to be changed. But he in no way considered the subject dropped.

*^*^*^*^

For Harry, it was three of the longest days of his life. Thankfully, they would end that night when Hermione came home. His heart thumped in triple time just thinking about their reunion...and Faren's almost joking offer to walk Jamie to London and back when Hermione got home.

After the first rather raucous night with Sirius, Remus and Ron, things had settled down into mind numbing quiet. Jamie kept him busy in the evenings, but time with his daughter only made Hermione's absence more palpable. The shape of her face reminded him constantly of his wife, and every time she smiled, his heart felt the separation even more.

In a very small way, though, he was glad of their distance and inability to communicate. He had needed time to think before he saw her again. No matter that he'd laughed it off with the others; he was very upset that she hadn't told him of her nightmares that summer before fifth year.

The other, more rational side of him, argued that she had been acting for his benefit - and that her letters that summer, filled with no mention of anything serious, had saved him from dwelling on Cedric's death and Voldemort's return. That her letters had very nearly kept him sane. As a matter of fact, he had Faren to thank for remembering that.

He'd been in a foul mood the entire day following their little party. He'd snapped at his students, been curt with the other staff members, and had told off the Gryffindor Quidditch team when they'd requested his help at training their new seeker. He knew he had to apologize, especially to the team captain, Annika, for his behavior. But that night, he hadn't been able to care.

Faren had just been about to leave. Her cloak had been fastened, her bag over her shoulder, but she'd stood in the foyer watching him pace.

"Mr. Potter?" she asked softly.

"What?" he'd snapped, causing her to jump slightly.

"Is anything the matter?"

"No."

"Is it me? Are you upset with something I've done or haven't done?"

Harry softened at that. He hadn't realized until just then that his brusque manner had more far reaching implications than needing to spread apologies everywhere. Faren had proved herself to be invaluable as a nanny, and he didn't fancy explaining to Hermione that they had to find a new one due to his rudeness.

"No, Faren. It's not you, I promise." Harry had tried for a smile, but he was afraid it came across more like a grimace.

"Can I help?"

Harry had opened his mouth to send her home, but he hadn't. Instead, he had started to ramble. Over the course of his diatribe, Faren had removed her cloak and motioned him to follow her into the kitchen. As he'd told her every little detail that was bothering him, she'd fried up eggs and sausages and had pushed him to eat between speeches. By the time he'd run out of words, he was full to bursting and feeling better than he had all day.

"If you ask me," she'd said once he finished, "I think that's a greater sign of love than any I've heard. Any time someone puts another before themselves, well, that's just a gift, isn't it?"

That night, as he'd laid awake missing Hermione's comforting warmth, he'd realized that Faren had been absolutely right. What greater sign of love could he have asked of Hermione than she help him to focus on mundane things, rather than dwell on what had happened or could happen in the future. There was nothing to gain from her even knowing that he knew. And if he was going to hold her accountable for her actions as a 15 year old witch, well, that was just opening himself up for loads of defensive posturing as well.

*^*^*^*^*

It had taken Harry most of the following day to feel that he had been suitably contrite to those who had crossed his path. He went a bit easier on his students, apologized to the other staff members, and had agreed to observe Quidditch practice for Gryffindor later in the week.

The bell rang overhead, signaling the beginning of the lesson. He could almost feel the apprehension of his students. Today was the day they'd been looking forward to since the first day of classes. Today, they would begin learning how to throw off the Imperius curse. Much to their dismay, he'd planned on lecturing for the first half of the double period. Harry finally gave up after forty minutes when he realized they were too excited and apprehensive to concentrate.

"Right then," he said, shifting his notes off the podium and into a drawer. "Who's first?"

Harry nearly laughed when every hand shot into the air.

One by one, he singled them out. One by one, they performed acrobatics, sang loudly and, in Daniel's case, hopped up and down while singing God Save the Queen. A few of them were just beginning to get a firm grip on trying to resist when the bell rang. Groans echoed through the large room, and Harry laughed as he promised them they could continue work on it next time.

Students were just beginning to file out when he heard a very familiar voice.

"Professor Potter? Are you available for tutoring?"

Harry whipped around and caught Hermione in a death grip before the echo of her last word had faded.

Their kiss held nothing back as each tried to forget the days apart. Harry felt as though his soul were being refilled at each caress of her silky tongue. He fisted his hands into the hair at the nape of her neck, trying to pull her mouth closer to his. Vaguely, he heard a door slam, but it didn't deter him in the slightest. The only thing that mattered right now was the firm set of lips beneath his. His hands slid down to fill with the weight of her breasts. It was only when he felt layers of clothing rather than smooth skin that his brain caught up and reminded him where he was.

He gentled his mouth on hers and started to rain whisper light kisses to her throat as they filled their lungs with oxygen.

"Did you miss me?" she sighed when his lips found the hollow below her right ear.

"Not in the slightest," he grinned, "whatever would have given you that idea?"

Hermione chuckled and then pulled back, her hands cupping his face. "It's your eyes, Harry. You must have charmed them because I couldn't close my own without seeing them."

"Well, you've put the same one on me then, love. I couldn't sleep for wanting to see your face before I drifted off."

Rapt in each other, it took a great deal of coughing for Hermione to remember she'd brought someone with her.

"Jason," she said, turning a bit pink at the ears, "I'm so sorry."

"Quite all right," the man Jason said easily. Harry got the feeling he didn't quite mean it.

"Harry, this is Jason Matthews. He's one of the Aurors I taught. He's stationed near here, so we traveled back together."

Jason held out his hand, which Harry shook, keeping his left arm around Hermione's shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Jason." The other man's grip was surprisingly firm. He was an attractive sort, Harry thought, light brown hair that fell perfectly into place and brown eyes nearly the color of Hermione's. And though average in height, Harry still had to look up to see them.

Harry noticed the way the other man's eyes flicked upward. It still amazed him that people almost refused to believe it was really him without seeing the scar. As he knew it was covered by his bangs, and to save Jason from having to ask, Harry casually pushed his hair away from his face to make the scar visible for a moment. Jason seemed to nod and he didn't mention it.

"I'll just leave you two..."

Hermione shifted as though she was going to protest, but said her goodbyes instead. The moment he was gone, Harry pulled her back into his arms and kissed her gently this time. Neither noticed, nor cared, that the classroom door was still ajar. It wasn't like the Hogwarts newlyweds hadn't been caught snogging in an empty classroom before.

"I feel bad," Hermione said softly. "I'd said we'd take him to dinner tonight. But I don't think I realized how much I truly missed you until I saw you again."

"I'm sure he understands."

Neither of them said anything else for quite some time. Before he got too carried away, Harry engaged the locking charm on the classroom door and pulled Hermione into the empty teacher's quarters behind them. Faren's offer to give them some time alone tonight was fine, but Harry knew he'd never last the short walk home.

Even with the interlude in his office, they'd barely been able to contain themselves once they'd returned home.

^*^*^*^*^

Journal Entry

I saw them together today. After the misery of their separation, to be so close again. It just seems so wrong. The one I now know to be my beloved...I can't bear the trickery, the deception...It breaks my heart to see my beloved so enchanted, so unaware...my beloved will know, will understand, in the fullness of time how we are meant to be one. How magical our future will be.

My beloved will know me, as I know my beloved. And we will be together forever.

*^*^*^*^

It was almost comical sometimes, how history had a knack of repeating itself. At least this time, no one ended up belching slugs.

The two rival Quidditch teams had met early that morning on the pitch, both dressed in track suits and ready for practice. One team was led by Harry, the other by Draco. The older men, however, were the only ones to see the humor in it.

"Clear off, Daria," Annika growled towards the other team's captain.

Daria, a Slytherin sixth year, was just reaching for her wand when Draco stepped in front of her. Harry and Draco exchanged another humorous look, which seemed to infuriate both teams. "Listen, you lot," he said loudly over the grumbling. "Both teams need help and this pitch is big enough for both of us."

Harry had begun to put two and two together, and realized why Draco was there. "Did Snape ask you to help them, Draco?" Harry said, pulling him aside.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You know, you call everyone else by their first name, why not him?"

"Habit," Harry shrugged. "He still calls me Potter. But on to the point. Are they training a new seeker?"

"Yes. Apparently, the kid does well enough in practice, but not during game time. He's Muggle born and hasn't seen Quidditch played before."

Harry and Draco seemed to come to the same idea at the same time. Grins split both of their faces as they explained their plan to the respective teams. Hermione and Ginny would have told them they looked like boys with brand new toys.

Within ten minutes, both teams were in the air, with Harry and Draco renewing their rivalry with a vengeance. The two young seekers were flying above them, watching it all with rapt attention.

"Don't know why they even asked you, Malfoy. It's not like you ever caught the snitch against me," Harry called, pacing Draco easily.

"That's because you're a sodding cheat, Potter," Draco called back affably.

The practice went on for a long time. Harry and Draco both were enjoying themselves so much, that they kept forgetting to look for the snitch...but then a flutter of wings down near the ground caught Harry's eye, then Draco's, and all fun was shelved. They were back to competing against each other - each diving and rolling, knocking into each other and hurling insults in their quest to reach the snitch first.

"Potter! Malfoy!"

The loud booming voice of Minerva McGonagall had both of them halting their brooms in mid-dive. The Interim Headmaster looked as menacing as ever, Harry thought. A small part of him wondered if she'd take points from the houses just because they were alumni. They maneuvered over to her and dismounted. Draco, he was glad to see, looked just as abashed as he felt.

"Just what in the name of heaven do you think you're doing?"

The rest of the Gryffindor and Slytherin team members remained in the air. Cowards, Harry thought.

Harry felt like a student himself after the dressing down Minerva had given him. Once she'd finished telling him off for luring the students into breaking the rules regarding Quidditch practices, Harry motioned the rest down to the ground. They complied, but slowly, obviously wanting to make sure Minerva was well away before they touched down.

"Does that happen often?" Draco asked as they watched the others landing.

"What?"

"Her treating you like you're still a student?"

"Only when I act like one," Harry grinned.

The teams paired off after that to discuss what they'd seen and done in the impromptu scrimmage. Annika handed out towels to her sweaty players and mopped her own brow with the last one. Harry was glad to see that the new Gryffindor seeker year looked a bit more confident.

The team was heading back towards the locker room when he heard the unmistakable sound of babies gurgling. Sure enough, Ginny and Hermione, as well as Ron and Mariah, were walking towards them across the grass.

"What are you lot doing here?" Harry asked them.

"Are you kidding? Look up there, Harry." Ron was pointing towards the school. A large crowd was just beginning to disperse. "I'm surprised more people from the village didn't turn up. Most were just going up onto rooftops to watch, but we wanted a better view. Imagine the headlines tomorrow, Potter and Malfoy: The Rematch."

"Shut it, Ron," Harry groaned. Surely not, he thought hopefully.

"So this is what you snuck out of bed this morning for?" Ginny said sounding indignant, one hand on her hip. Her other arm held Morgan until Draco plucked him out of her arms.

"Yes, dear," Draco said in a poor imitation of a henpecked husband. He hoisted his son over his head and smiled at the belly laugh Morgan gave him in return. Ginny waited until Morgan was secure in Draco's arms before continuing.

"Don't you mock me, Draco Malfoy. I'm bloody infuriated with you." She waited a beat before starting to grin. "I never get a chance to see you fly anymore," she smiled. "Back me up, ladies, it's just something to see them astride those broomsticks, isn't it?"

"Personally, I'd rather be on the broomstick," Mariah commented off hand. Her face went scarlet when she realized the way that sounded.

"Load of perverts, that's what you are," she grinned.

*^*^*^*^*^

As it was Saturday, it was the night of their weekly catch up dinner. This time, they'd taken over the rear portion of the Three Broomsticks. Hermione had caught sight of Jason and had invited him to join them, and he had, although briefly. Drink in hand, he'd wandered over to the table and allowed himself to be introduced. His eyes paused and studied Draco before moving on to Ginny and the rest of the group. Harry supposed there would always be a bit of tension between anyone carrying the title Auror and anyone bearing the last name Malfoy. Hopefully, Draco would be able to change that.

Jason had pulled a vacant chair next to Hermione and had spoken quietly with her for a few moments. Harry had tried to eavesdrop, but the Auror must have used a silencing spell on his voice. Not that that surprised him -- especially if the man was from the Moody School of Paranoia. If he was married to any other witch, he probably would have suspected the man of trying to hit on his wife. But Hermione could more than handle herself, he knew, and if the way she was currently caressing his thigh was any indication, she had no plan on straying any time soon.

The conversation had turned to Ginny's column starting in an American Wizarding publication the next month when Harry spotted a familiar face at the bar. Sara was seated with her back to them, her straight blonde hair ending in a loose plait. She didn't make direct eye contact, but he could see her gaze flitting toward their table more than once. He'd wanted to ask her to join them, but Hermione's skillful fingers had made rising from the table a really bad idea.

Jason left the table a few moments later and Harry leaned over to whisper in Hermione's ear. "Just what are you doing, Mrs. Potter?"

The innocent face she pulled didn't fool him. "Having fun, Mr. Potter," she grinned, her eyes twinkling. "Is that Sara?" she asked, following his eyes as they glanced that way again.

"Looks like her, want to take your life into your hands and invite her over?"

"It might mean more, coming from you," she winked.

"Well, I would. But someone at this table has ensured that I can't stand without embarrassing myself for at least another five minutes."

"Draco playing footsie with you again?"

Harry laughed as he pulled her in for a kiss. It was deep enough so that he'd made her nearly as uncomfortable as he was, but not showy enough to make the others poke fun at them.

Hermione was just regaining her normal breathing when she stood to walk over to Sara. The moment their eyes collided in the mirror, Sara stood suddenly and walked out of the pub without a backwards glance.

"That was odd," Hermione said as she sat back down.

"Very," Harry agreed, his brow furrowing at the other teacher's odd behavior.

"I'm going to try and talk to her on Monday," Hermione said in a low tone. The others were so engrossed, they had no idea what had just gone on.

Harry wanted to tell her to leave it alone, but he had to admit to being a bit curious about her behavior. It had been a week since classes had begun, but she was still nervous around the pair of them. He'd expected younger students to be uneasy around him at first, but not adults. Not for this long.

"You think you can get her to stand still long enough? She seems to positively flee when she sees either of us coming these days."

"If I have to corner her in her own classroom," she replied seriously.

"So, Hermione," Ron called from across the table, "tell us all about the Institute. Was it all cloak and dagger?"

Hermione didn't say anything, which seemed to spur Ron on rather than quiet him. "Come on, tell us. After all, we were all going to be Aurors once upon a time."

"You weren't, Ron," Harry said seriously. "You had your mind set on business from sixth year on. The minute George told you they wanted to open a branch in Hogsmeade, you had a gleam in your eye like I'd never seen before."

Hermione sent a thankful glance towards her husband and listened as their chosen career paths were debated back and forth. In truth, she'd been told not to reveal anything about the Institute to anyone. Maybe it was Moody's paranoia, or maybe that's where he'd learned it. But she'd been sworn to secrecy from the moment she'd arrived. Merlin, she thought, I haven't even told Harry about it.

"They're right, Ron," Mariah interjected, "after all, it takes a truly gifted salesman to sell fifty galleons worth of practical jokes to a witch who had just stopped in for directions."

"Speaking of directions, Mariah," Ginny took hold of the table's attention with a few taps on her water glass.

"Yes?"

"When exactly are you planning on making an honest man out of my brother, hmmm?"

"What does that have to do with directions?" Draco asked his wife with a smirk. He'd known she was going to try and work her mother's owl into the conversation. But as the evening was growing late, he supposed she'd had to improvise. Didn't stop him from needling her about it, however.

"It does if I say it does, Draco," Ginny favored him with a saccharine smile. "Mariah?" she said, turning toward the other woman, not wanting her to think she was off the hook.

"As soon as I can find the time to start planning a wedding," she answered, leaning in to Ron slightly. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and placed a kiss to her temple.

"Well, Mum owled me the other day..."

"Oh no," Ron groaned and accepted sympathetic glances from the others.

"And," Ginny continued in a slightly louder voice, "she mentioned that she'd be happy to have it at the Burrow. She also happened to mention that George's wife, Felicity, is just starting a party planning business."

"Always subtle, our Mum," Ron laughed. He turned to face Mariah, who had been noticeably quiet.

Second thoughts, Angel?

Not a chance, Weasley. You're stuck with me.

Thank God.

I'm just wondering if this is the time to be planning a wedding, with everything else that...

...that

could happen, Mariah. No one knows for sure, not even Renae. So, are you game? Want to take on the Weasley's as a full fledged member of the clan?

From the moment I saw you, Ron

.

"I'll owl her in the morning, Ginny." She didn't even look at Ginny as she said this -- her eyes, and her mind, were too occupied with the blue eyes she'd have the honor of losing herself in for the rest of her life.

Great whoops of delight sounded and glasses were raised to the impending marriage. Mariah accepted offers of help from Ginny and Hermione. Ron received a commiserating back slap from Harry, and an offer of their couch from Draco for when Mariah finally wised up and kicked him out.

Ron, remembering the weddings of three of his older brothers, took Draco's offer to heart.

*^*^*^*^*

Harry sat straight up in bed, confused for a moment as to what had awakened him. He cocked his head to the side, but heard no sound from Jamie's room. Then the pain hit him again and his hand flew to his forehead.

He pulled his hand away, not surprised to see it shaking. Because, for the first time since fourth year, Harry had awakened with pain in his scar.