Chapter One – Cat Got Your Tongue?

Hermione yawned, stretching cat-like, glancing out the drawing room window at the darkening sky.

'We should be getting to the Burrow Harry, it's getting late.'

Harry nodded but continued to write the letter he had been labouring over since after lunch. Hermione smiled; she had no idea to who Harry was writing but she silently thanked the heavens every time he pulled the eagle-feather quill she had bought him and parchment that was now being restocked weekly from the drawer of the writing desk; he seemed much calmer during the day and he no longer woke her with his screaming, he'd even mentioned that he might start sleeping in Sirius' old room soon.

Hermione yawned again, looking around the drawing room, once more marvelling how homely it was compared to two years ago when the Order had been using the house as Headquarters. She had been surprised when Harry had suggested that they move into 12 Grimmauld Place together; he was sick of people asking him if he was okay and she, having grown up as an only child in a quiet home, was desperate to get away from the bustle of the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had tried her best to convince them to stay at the Burrow but had failed miserably. Hermione liked it at the Black residence, as they still referred to it; it was quiet and, thanks to Kreacher, who seemed to have gained a new leas on life, very homey.

Crack!

Hermione screamed and Harry swore as a blotch of ink appeared on his carefully written letter. Kreacher, his cheeks glowing with colour and his eyes shining with excitement, wasted no time on apologies.

'They're arguing again Master!' he squealed, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. Harry sighed and Hermione had to work hard to keep a straight face. They had come back from the Burrow a week ago to find Mrs Black's portrait destroyed and four new portraits in its place. Kreacher had confessed, giggling as he did, that he had become weary of the hag's screeching and had finally worked up the courage to remove it. The four portraits had been a gift from Luna, who, it turned out, was a rather talented artist. The largest portrait was one that had touched Harry deeply and many a night Hermione would wake alone and when she went looking for him she'd find him watching its snoozing occupants with a hungry face. Lupin, Mad Eye, Tonks, Fred, Cedric, Sirius and Harry's parents all wondered around Hogwarts, its grounds, Hogsmead, Diagon Alley, and a large meadow, among other landscapes. Luna had enchanted the portrait so that the scenery changed everyday, much to the delight of the occupants. At the moment however, the portrait held one more occupant and he, Sirius and James Potter were having a raging row.

Harry watched for a moment then roared, 'SHUT UP!'

Sirius and James froze. Snape, on the other hand, leaned against a tree (the scenery today was a forest beside a lazy stream, Tonks, Lupin, Lily, Fred and Cedric all sat on the far bank, watching, Mad Eye had wondered off it seemed), looking smug.

'Dad, Sirius, stop having a go at Snape,' The two friends seemed abashed that Harry, son and godson, had told them off.

'And you professor, should I ask Luna to paint a wall around you?' Snape lost his greasy smirk instantly; his portrait mimicked the office he had once had at Hogwarts and stayed that way, he was often found in the larger portrait. Only Sirius and James ever had a problem with it.

'Please stop arguing, you all know why each of you deserve a place on this wall.' Harry appealed to the three men. Sirius nodded, James sighed and Snape looked properly humbled.

'You have some nerve, addressing a former Headmaster in such a manner,' drawled Phineas Nigellus, whose portrait had been moved down here after much moaning.

Harry ignored the Slytherin, turning instead to the final portrait that hung on the wall that had once held Mrs Black.

'Good Evening Professor,' he said quietly, bowing his head in respect. The bespectacled Headmaster smiled down at Harry.

'Are you well Harry?' Dumbledore asked gently. Harry nodded.

'Still writing?'

All the portraits turned to look at Harry as he nodded again and Dumbledore beamed.

'Words hold more power than we give them credit for.' Being a portrait had not changed him; Dumbledore still spoke in riddles, though Hermione knew what this one meant, having watched Harry's letters get longer and longer and his sleep deeper and deeper.

There was a chime from somewhere deep inside the house, startling Harry out of the silent conversation he seemed to be having with Dumbledore.

'We should be off to the Burrow.' Hermione said and Harry nodded. He turned to the larger portrait again, whispered something Hermione couldn't hear and then, without further ado, walked out of Grimmauld Place.

~o~

'Harry, dear! Hermione! How are you? Oh look how thin you are! Is that elf working at all?' Harry grinned at the frown that crossed Hermione's face when Mrs Weasley mentioned Kreacher. There was a squeal and something small, warm and confusingly red barrelled into Harry. Hermione smiled as she watched her best mate greet the youngest Weasley much more enthusiastically than Mrs Weasley strictly approved of but she pretended not to notice, busying herself with the pots and pans that cluttered the stove. After several minutes, however, she could no longer pretend not to notice, but before she could intervene her youngest son stepped in.

'Harry!' Ron yelled, clapping his friend on the back. Harry extracted himself half-heartedly from Ginny, turning to greet Ron. Ginny hugged Hermione hard – the two girls had become fast friends.

'Is he sleeping okay?' Ginny asked Hermione quietly.

'Yes, much better actually. He's even talked about moving back into Sirius' room.'

'You mean he might start sleeping alone?'

Hermione nodded, smiling. Harry had been sleeping next to Hermione for many weeks now. He had slept in Sirius's room when they first moved into 12 Grimmauld Place but his nightmares had become so alarming that Hermione, with the help of Ginny, who had been terrified after spending a night in Grimmauld Place and witnessing one of Harry's nightmares, convinced him that he shouldn't sleep alone. Both girls now turned toward the raven-haired boy. Hermione saw the dark circles that ringed his eyes, Ginny saw the light scars that Harry had not had after the war. Both the dark circles and the scars, which people assumed he had picked up in war, were actually reminders that he relived the war each night.

Ron's voice broke through the girls' thoughts, 'McGonagall is in the lounge, she wants to see us all.'

Harry immediately looked wary, Ginny looked confused and Hermione curious. Together they followed Ron into the lounge. Minevera McGonagall looked as stern as ever but her face softened into a smile as they stood before her like school children being told off.

'You have fought wars against horrific creatures, both human and otherwise and yet you quail beneath the gaze of a teacher. I have certainly made an impression.'

Harry laughed and stepped forward, hugging McGonagall. To the amazement of the others she hugged him back, laughing as well. The tension was broken and they sat, all enquiring about the Headmistress's health and the progress of the rebuilding of the castle.

'Hogwarts is complete once more, and that is why I am here.' A silence fell as McGonagall seemed to gather herself, falling back to being a teacher rather than a friend beside whom they had fought.

'It has been decided that all students should repeat their years owning to the circumstances of last year. In the case of yourselves, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, you will be attending Hogwarts as N.E.W.T students. Miss Weasley, you will be repeating your sixth year.'

Hermione could barely contain herself, her face breaking into a large grin as she thanked McGonagall as if she had just announced that Hermione had won a thousand Galleons. Ron, on the other hand, looked crestfallen. Harry didn't know what to feel.

'Here are your booklists, as well as your tickets.' She handed each of them an envelope, smiling at each in turn, 'We look forward to seeing you on the first. Good Day.'

Harry stood quickly, offering to accompany her to the fireplace from where she would Floo back to Hogwarts. He returned moments later and Hermione shifted over, making space for him between herself and Ginny.

'Did any of you get the feeling that there was something more she wanted to say to us?' asked Ron, staring down at the envelope he held in his hand.

'I think there will be a lot of that once we get back to Hogwarts,' muttered Harry, also looking down at the envelope McGonagall had handed to him. Ginny squeezed his hand gently and he smiled at her, wrapping his arm around her. They all sat silent for a few minutes, Hermione being the first to open her letter.

There was a small scream that shocked them all out of their reveries.

'Hermione? What is it?' asked Harry, alarmed. Hermione handed her letter to him, her hand shaking. There was a tense silence as Harry read the offending letter then suddenly he laughed.

'Well done Hermione!' he said, patting his shell-shocked friend on the shoulder.

'What is it?' demanded Ron and Harry held the letter out to him. He read the letter and his eyes grew wide and he too began to laugh. Ginny had, by this time, figured out what was going on and she jumped from her seat, pulling Hermione off the couch and hugging her hard, laughing at her friend's shocked face.

'Well that's no surprise,' chuckled Ron, shaking his head.

'What's the racket all about?' asked Mrs Weasley, appearing in the doorway.

'Hermione has been made Head Girl,' Harry informed her, also hugging Hermione now. Mrs Weasley clapped her hands and rushed forward to hug the bushy-haired girl that had become like a daughter to her.