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Chapter 2

The wonderful smell of Molly Weasley's cooking greeted Harry the moment he stepped from the fireplace. Hermione and Ron came over to give Harry a hug and Arthur, Ron's father, shook his hand. "Good week, Harry?" he asked with a small hint of a frown between his eyes.

"Yes, Arthur. This one was calmer than most, wouldn't you say Ron?" Harry replied.

"Yeah, mate, definitely better than all of the wand dueling practice last week. Not my strongest skill, I guess," said Ron.

"Oh, you were fine," Hermione said. "You're just being too hard on yourself."

"How was your week, Arthur?" Harry asked, still feeling a bit funny addressing Mr. Weasley by his first name. But he'd been asked to do so.

"Good enough I suppose," Arthur answered, "although George has had me working at the Diagon Alley store in the evenings while he supervises the Christmas decorations. Not exactly my idea of quiet time after work."

"That reminds me," said Harry, "that tomorrow I HAVE to do some shopping. Anyone want to go?"

"I will," said Hermione, "especially if you are headed to the muggle shops. I need some things for Mum and Dad." Hermione had located her parents in Australia fairly quickly after the war ended and Ron and Harry had helped her to restore their memories. They moved back to England, although they now lived in a small village on the outskirts of London. This was to accommodate their new dental practice without a load of questions from previous patients, and to allow them to have a larger home and garden. Hermione had her own small flat in London but saw them often

Ron rather quietly said that he couldn't go, as he was meeting Katherine, his muggle friend, for lunch the next day. In the corner chair, his father raised his eyebrows and smiled.

At that moment, George and Angelina Johnson arrived and stepped from the fireplace. Molly then came in and called everyone to the table. They all sat down to eat and, as they were eating, Harry looked around at this group - his family as far as he was concerned. They loved him, and he them, and he was so grateful for their relationships. Especially Ron and Hermione. What would his life have been like without them? Would he even be alive to enjoy this moment? Somehow he thought not. Pushing these deep thoughts aside for the time being, Harry tucked in, laughing and talking with the rest.

Later, after a great dessert that Angelina had brought, and some quiet time by the fire, playing cards and talking, Harry rose to leave. He whispered to Hermione that he would like a word with her and asked if she would come to his flat when she left. She promised she would be along shortly and Harry left after thanking everyone for the meal and pleasant evening.

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Harry walked up the stairs and into his London flat. He was close to Diagon Alley and yet still in a muggle area. Having grown up with the Dursleys, there were still some muggle items that Harry wanted to have in his home - a television and DVD player among them, and so this place suited him well for the time being. The electrical items would work even though he was a wizard, since he was surrounded by muggles in the building. Harry had learned in his first year at Hogwarts, that any time there were too many wizards in one area, electricity would not work correctly. So it was candles and Exploding Snap when the Weasleys came to visit.

He had rented number twelve, Grimmauld Place, to Neville Longbottom after they left school. Neville was re-doing the house during the summers and was a teaching assistant in Herbology at Hogwarts during the school year. Neville was also seeing Luna Lovegood whenever he could, although not at the school. Normally a teacher would not see a student under any circumstances, but the war had changed many things. Luna and Neville were both "old souls" to begin with, and the war had only "aged" them more. Since Luna was in her last year at Hogwarts they were still at an an early stage of their relationship but Harry felt that their being together would surely stand the test of time. Luna's gentle, loving ways were just what Neville needed after his childhood struggles and she loved him for his warm heart and brave demeanor.

Kreacher happily served Harry by serving Neville at both Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place. Neville seemed to understand the elderly elf. Perhaps this was due to his being raised by his elderly grandmother but, for whatever reason, Neville and Kreacher had become fast friends , with Neville treating Kreacher well and the elf working harder than ever for his temporary "master."

Harry's flat was in an older building on a fairly busy street. He was close enough to the Leaky Cauldron that he walked there most mornings, had a quick breakfast and apparated directly to the Ministry. This suited Harry and also Tom the landlord, as he had always wished to better know the Boy Who Lived. He had known Harry's father James well and now felt a sense of responsibility for Harry, although he kept this to himself.

Harry flopped down on his comfortable brown couch and began to peruse the new Quibbler that had arrived the previous day, but before he got finished with the story he was reading, there was a knock at his door. After checking his peephole, despite the protective wards he had installed, Harry opened the door and stood aside to allow Hermione to enter. She smiled and, noting the magazine on the couch, and the comfort of the cozy den, said, "Harry, it is so good to see you in your own place, relaxing a bit and just being still. Reminds me a bit of some of our times in that ratty old tent, with the exception that there's no price on your head of course!" She laughed and Harry suddenly noticed her lovely smile and the faint blush on her cheeks from her short walk in the cold air.

"So, what did you need to chat about Harry - work?" Hermione asked. Harry went and sat down, shook his head and patted the seat beside him and she came and sat down.

"Hermione, with Christmas coming and things finally slowing a bit at the Ministry, I have been thinking about that Christmas that we spent in that 'ratty old tent' as you call it. I've been thinking of Godric's Hollow, of my mum and dad of course and, maybe strangely, of the Durselys," Harry said.

"Well Harry, I don't think that's unusual. Alll of us get a bit nostalgic at the holidays, I guess," Hermione replied.

"Yes, but this is more than that Hermione. I just feel that there is so much unfinished business in my life, I guess. I've not seen the Dursleys since they were sent into hiding and they did raise me, athough they certainly didn't want to. I've been chased, twice now, from my original home by a mad murderer, not to mention the war and all of the losses that led up to and followed it, and I have begun to ask myself why all of this happened to us and what I need to do to feel right about all of it. Things just don't feel settled," Harry said.

Hermione looked deeply into Harry's green eyes with her dark brown ones. She saw the haunted look she had seen so often over the years. She wanted to make that look disappear, for she had always felt that Harry had suffered enough. Now that they were young adults, she often thought that she didn't know how he could have come out of everything, particularly his final confrontations with Voldemort, so sane and grounded.

But she knew of theses times all too welll. The times when he questioned himself and his life and the losses he and others had suffered. She gently took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. She leaned her forehead close to touch his and asked quietly, "Harry, do you want me to go back with you, to Godric's Hollow - just for a visit and a look round?"

Harry leaned back and gazed at her. A night in the tent came into his mind. Ron had left and they both felt so alone. Hermione had hugged him close, seeming to need the nearness herself more than usual. He remembered her light perfume and how it seemed so right, somehow, for her. He remembered looking into her eyes that night and feeling an urge to kiss her, which he had quickly dismissed, thinking it was just the result of being alone so much and so stressed and anxious.

Now, however, he wasn't in a "ratty old tent," stressed and anxious. He was alone with this wonderful young woman, his best friend, who had stuck with him through thick and thin and seemed to understand him as no one else did. "Yes Hermione," he said quietly, "I think I would like that." Then he stopped talking and they both moved closer. Time seemed to stop as Harry closed his eyes and leaned in to lightly brush Hermione's lips with his own. He leaned back to look at her and she raised her eyes to him.

"Harry," she whispered. And then they both leaned in for a longer kiss. Her mouth was warm and Harry felt as though his stomach was falling, ...falling. His heart sped up. What was happening? He broke the kiss gently adnd brought Hermione's chin up to look at her. She was so beautiful. How had he never realized just how beautiful? "Hermione, what just happened?" he asked.

"I... I'm not sure Harry," she said, "But I can't honestly say that I'm sorry, although it does scare me a bit."

"Me too," Harry replied. They were both silent and still for a moment and then Harry stirred and said, "I think I'd like to make some tea. Would you care for some?"

"Yes please," Hermione replied with a small smile. "I guess we've picked up on Molly's habits more than we realized."

Harry slowly waked into the kitchen, rubbing his chin and thinking to himself. He certainly hadn't planned this and he hoped Hermione knew it. He wouldn't risk their friendship for anything and he thought she felt the same way. He made the tea and brought it back to her.

Harry," she said, "I don't know what or why this just happened but I want you to know that I value our friendship above almost anything. I didn't see this coming at all."

It was just as if she had read his mind, Harry thought. "Neither did I, Hermione, but if felt good and right, didn't it?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied quietly.

She sipped her tea a moment and then Harry said, "Hermione, may I kiss you again?" She nodded, and he did.