Author's Notes:
The overnight response I got when I posted this story was unbelievable. Never in my five years of posting here have I had a reaction like it. I want to thank all of those who took the time to read my story and responded, I hope that I do not disappoint you with the future chapters.
Thanks go to Blueglaceon for being the most wonderful Beta in the world.
Thanks also go to MissAnnThropic, who has allowed me to borrow ideas and exerts from her brilliant story Vox Corporis.
And ya'll know the drill; Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.
Rebecca Knight, Pan and Athena and every other character that you haven't heard of do, so no touchies without permission.
Chapter 2
That Christmas spent with the Grangers had been a most enjoyable experience, because up until that point Harry had ever only known two types of Christmas celebrations: pre-Hogwarts, where he had spent the day at the beck and call of the Dursleys, and Hogwarts, where he had been one of the few orphans who had stayed at school because they had no other place to go for the holidays. But Harry had known, from the moment that he had entered the Granger household, that that Christmas, and every other in the years to come, would be like that one Christmas spent at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and the Weasleys'.
And he had been right, he had never felt more at home then he did with Hermione's family.
Miranda had taken it upon herself to mother the young man from the get-go, which had included a three hour shopping trip in the first couple of days.
Hermione found it very easy to get lost in a book. In text she was all her strength, nothing of the gangly, ugly, unpopular, and at times insecure girl. She was her mind, and that was her greatest power. It was an indulgence to surrender to it. Admittedly, sometimes she escaped to it. It grew from that into an ability to hone in so singularly on what she was reading that the rest of the world was background noise to the words. She was sitting on her bed reading a thick, heavy tome propped on her lap. Crookshanks was curled on her pillow behind and to the right of her, dozing with legs folded tight beneath him until he looked like a ginger ball of fur with slits for eyes and a piggish pink nose.
She'd completely lost track of the time, so when a soft knock came at her door she started as though someone had kicked it. Crookshanks popped open his eyes when her jump made the mattress move, but after a half-second survey merely closed his eyes again.
"Yes?" Hermione called.
The door opened and Harry stuck his head inside, his eyes searching the room and quickly settling on her.
"Harry! Back so soon?"
Harry frowned in bewilderment. "Soon? We were gone three hours."
Hermione glanced at her clock. He was right; she'd done it again.
She laid her hands on the open pages of the guilty book. "Oh. Three hours?"
Harry sagged at the reminder and walked into her room. With dragging steps he crossed to her bed, fell forward, and lay perfectly still across the foot. Crookshanks, roused again at the second jostling in less than five minutes, turned a glower on Harry.
Hermione snickered. "I'm so sorry, Harry."
She suspected the snickering negated her words as far as sympathy was concerned. Harry mumbled something but it was muffled by the comforter into which he had his face pressed. Hermione snorted, leaned forward, and pushed on his shoulder.
Harry rolled over on to his back. "I said I hope I don't have to do that again."
"I imagine not. Mum just hated seeing you wear those dingy old clothes of Dudley's. How much did you get?"
Harry raked both hands through his hair as though to dishevel himself enough would erase the tameness of the outing. "Not nearly half as your mother would have liked. But I don't need that much! I mean, your mother's really nice, but three hours, Hermione! I almost feel sorry for Dudley when Aunt Petunia takes him clothes shopping. They're always gone the entire day. To think I used to be even the tiniest jealous about that!" With a sigh Harry closed his eyes and Hermione watched in fascination as his features relaxed, his mouth softened, his whole body seemed to unwind and lay prone and loose in what might have appeared to be a precursor to sleep.
Crookshanks picked his way across the bed and sniffed delicately at Harry's face.
Harry screwed up his face and waved the cat away. "Crookshanks." The cat persisted, whiskers twitching against Harry's nose and chin.
"Did you and Mum stop for ice cream?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
Harry cracked open one eye at her while he continued to push at Crookshanks and seemed to question how she knew. "Yeah."
Hermione smiled. "Mum usually takes me after shopping, consolation prize I suppose; Crookshanks smells it on your breath. He loves ice cream."
"Well, next time I'll bring you some," Harry said. Crookshanks seemed to accept that and lay down on the bed beside Harry's shoulder.
"Here you two are." Miranda stated from the doorway, and the two teens looked to her, "I thought as much. And, Harry, I'm sorry if I was a bit much today."
"Oh, uh... that's okay, Mrs. Granger."
Miranda switched to addressing her daughter with a playful light in her eyes. "Once he started trying on clothes that actually fit I got a bit overzealous, I suppose."
Hermione glanced at Harry and saw him cringe.
Miranda, heedless, continued, "Don't know if you realize it, dear, but when you get past those ratty old clothes of his cousin's he's a good-looking boy."
Harry was blushing furiously.
"I know," Hermione said matter-of-factly.
"I thought he could do with a fair bit more than we came away with, but Harry started looking a bit flighty. Thought it best to call it a day before he ran for it."
Hermione giggled. "Probably a good decision; Harry's a fast runner. If he made a break for it you'd never catch him.
Harry had also gotten on quite well with Jake.
Expectedly, Hermione's father had pulled him aside after lunch on the first day for a little chat regarding him and Hermione; "If you hurt her," he'd said, "I'll hurt you, wizard or no."
With his fatherly duties out of the way, Jake had been glad to have another guy in the house with whom he could talk guy-stuff with.
"Oh," Hermione brightened, "you ought to have Harry explain Quidditch to you, Dad. I know I've done a ruddy job, but Harry knows all about it. He was Gryffindor's Seeker whilst he was at school."
To help Jake better understand the game, Harry had given him his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages, that year's birthday present from Hermione.
"It looks like an absolutely fascinating game. And you played this 'Seeker' position?"
Harry nodded.
"From this book, looks like quite a tough spot to play."
Hermione looked up from her homework and grinned. "Oh, it's the most challenging Quidditch position on the whole team. The Seeker has to be the fastest, with the best reflexes, and has to be fearless. Some of the manoeuvres I've seen Harry pull off chasing that infernal golden ball..."
Jake looked to Harry with a smirk and winked at him. "And Hermione says she doesn't know a thing about Quidditch."
"Hermione knows something about everything; if she says she doesn't know anything then she's plain lying," Harry answered and Hermione harrumphed before turning back to her homework.
And then of course, there was Hermione.
By an unspoken agreement, the two of them had spent the majority of their time together, whether that be just longing around the house talking, Hermione doing her homework with Harry watching on and helping her when needed or making out underneath Hermione's favourite tree in the garden, knowing that once the break was over it would be a while before they would be together again.
Harry had also cooked for the family whenever he could, though Miranda had tried to dissuade him at first, but had relented after Harry had told her that it was the least he could do to say thank you to them for having him.
The lazy days spent at the Grangers had seemed to fly by, and before long it was Christmas Eve.
Hermione looked at the clock on her bedside table; 11:15.
As was the norm on Christmas Eve, she couldn't sleep.
With a sigh she rose from her bed, left her bedroom and tiptoed down the hall and into the kitchen to get herself a cup of hot chocolate.
Fifteen minutes later, she found herself tiptoeing back towards her room. She had just stopped at her door when a muffled noise from Harry's room caught her attention. Backtracking to his door, she opened it, stepped inside and looked to the bed. Harry was tossing and turning violently, clearly in the grips of a nightmare.
Crossing the room, she had just set her mug on the bedside table when Harry startled awake with a cry, scrambling upright, his shirtless form gulping in air. Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, Hermione reached out to touch his forehead, but the moment her fingers touched his skin, he recoiled away from her.
Hermione's heart raged as she realised that he was bracing to be hit.
'Damn the Dursleys!' she seethed to herself. 'They should consider themselves lucky that Harry's reconciled things with them, because if he hadn't, I'd have cursed them into next week for all the things that they've done to the man that I love.'
Her train of thought was broken by Harry's voice, "'Mione?"
"Hey," she whispered to him, tentatively reaching out to touch his cheek with the pads of her fingers and was relieved when Harry placed his hand over hers, pressing her hand fully against his skin. "You okay?"
"Bad dream."
They were silent then, and as Harry became fully aware of his surroundings, he spoke up to explain his knee-jerk reaction, "I'm sorry, I thought that I was back at the Dursleys."
Hermione just scooted forward, dropped her hand from his face before wrapping her arms around him. "It's okay," she soothed as he nestled his head in her crook of her neck and she began to run her fingers through his hair - which she had learned, just days prior, helped to relax him, evidenced by the fact that he had fallen asleep in her lap. And sure enough, after a few minutes, she felt his eyes flutter shut and his breathing even out to a steady even rhythm. She carefully lowered Harry back to the mattress and then slipped in under the covers herself, snuggling up to him as she too drifted off.
When Christmas day had dawned, Miranda had been slightly startled to find her daughter asleep in their guest's bed, because up until that point Harry been nothing but a gentleman in regards to his courtship of Hermione, which had been one of the main reasons that Jake had warmed up to Harry so quickly. When Hermione had realised that they'd had company, she'd carefully extracted herself from her boyfriend's sleeping form and had gone to track down her mother and talk to her.
"It was not what it looked like," Hermione told her mother when she found her in the kitchen. "I couldn't sleep last night, so I came out here to get a cup of hot chocolate. Harry was having a nightmare when was heading back to my room so I went in to comfort him and I kind of fell asleep in the process," she ended sheepishly
"Don't worry, sweetheart; you're not in trouble."
Hermione blinked; this was not the response she had expected.
Miranda chuckled at her daughter. "You are adults now, after all. Your father and I trust you, the both of you, to do the right thing."
Hermione relaxed and then hugged her mother. "Merry Christmas, Mom."
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."
As mother and daughter drew apart, Jake ambled into the kitchen, stretching and yawning, "Merry Christmas, girls," he greeted his wife and daughter.
"Merry Christmas, Dad," Hermione pecked her father on the cheek before heading towards Harry's room to wake her boyfriend so that the day's celebrations could begin.
– – o – – o – –
An hour later found Harry sitting on the couch.
They'd unwrapped all their presents, and at the current moment Jake and Miranda were in the kitchen busily preparing breakfast. Hermione lay against her boyfriend, using his lap as a pillow as she eagerly read Rebecca's present whilst another, from Harry, was waiting in the wings.
"What have you got there?" Jake questioned his daughter as he return to the lounge room with a cup of coffee in hand.
Hermione looked to her father, "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."
"Who's it from?"
"Rebecca Knight. She's one of my surrogate class-mates. I was talking to her on the platform when you came to pick me up at the start of the holidays; copper-hair, green-eyes," she reminded her father
"The girl with the griffin?"
"His name is Pan. He's Rebecca's familiar."
"She has a pet griffin?" Jake asked incredulously
"Familiars are more than just pets, Dad. They can't be owned, rather, they are a consciousness in their own right and deserving of great respect," Hermione explained as she rested the still open book on her chest. "A magical familiar is an animal associate with an intimate and bonded relationship with a human. The word 'familiar' is short for 'familiar spirit', where an object or animal contains or possessed by a spirit companion that helps a magician or witch. A witch or wizard would never really refer to a familiar as "my owl" or "my cat" as a mere possession. On the contrary, a familiar has its own name, personality, and independent desires and thoughts. A familiar acts as an intermediary for the witch or wizard. As a witch's or wizard's partner, will perform tasks such as the carriage of messages; owl familiars will fly around the world if the witch or wizard requests it, aid in spellwork; such as allowing themselves to be experimented on in Transfiguration-"
Hermione was cut off by Harry's sudden laughter and she looked at him curiously.
"Remember in second year, when we were transfiguring animals into water goblets?"
Hermione caught on to what he was referring and began to laugh as well.
Jake looked between the two mirthful teens before plaintively asking, "Care to explain to your dear ol' Muggle father what you two all powerful magician's are laughing about?"
Harry calmed himself. "Like I said, we were transfiguring animals into water goblets. After being shown what to do by Professor McGonagall, Ron was asked to go first, but at the time his wand wasn't working properly because of a run in with the Whomping Willow at the start of the year, so when he used the spell, it only half worked, which transformed his then familiar Scabbers into a furry water goblet, complete with a wriggling tail."
Jake began to laugh as well.
When the three of them had calmed down, Hermione continued on with her explanation, "They'll also offer hair for potion work, companionship, and guard and protect the witch or wizard from any danger. Unlike pets, familiars will go wherever the witch or wizard goes, even if it means going into the arms of death."
Harry could only chuckle at Hermione's familiar thoroughness.
"Let me guess: third year?" he silently questioned as to when she'd done her research.
Hermione nodded her head. "After Mum and Dad said that they'd let me buy something for my birthday."
"And did you really want an owl at first?"
"I did. After seeing you and Hedwig, seeing the bond that the two of you had..." Hermione suddenly trailed off.
Understanding what was going through Hermione's mind - that Hedwig had been more than just his familiar, she had been a part of his introduction to the wizarding world and his first real friend - Harry took one of her hands in his and gently squeezed it and smiled when she looked at him. "It's okay," he told her softly.
Seeing Jake's curious expression, Harry explained, "Hedwig was my first familiar. But she was killed last year as the Order was escorting me to safety."
But any further conversation between them was halted when Miranda announced, "Harry, Athena's back."
Harry turned his head and raised an arm as the barn owl silently soared towards him. The she owl landed, mindful not to dig her talons into the bare skin of her master's forearm, and Harry removed the three envelopes that she had been carrying.
"Anything from the Dursleys?"
"Mmmhmm," he replied as he opened the first envelope; a Christmas card. "It's from Dudley."
"From Dudley?" she parroted.
"Mmmhmm, Dudley and I are on pretty good terms now," he explained. "That run-in with the Dementor before fifth year really knocked some sense in to him about his behaviour towards me over the years."
"And about time," she muttered.
With a soft chuckle, Harry opened the remaining envelopes. The first was another Christmas card from the Weasleys', the second a note from the Lupins;
'Harry,
Dora, Teddy and I will be coming to see you at the Grangers' some time on Christmas Day.
Merry Christmas,
Remus'
Hermione saw the warm expression engulf Harry's face, but before she could question him about it, Miranda announced, "Breakfast's ready!"
Over breakfast Harry had told the Grangers of Remus' letter and plans. Miranda had told him that, if they were there in time, they were more than welcome to stay for lunch.
After breakfast, Miranda banished Harry from the kitchen. "It's my time to spoil you," she told him. When he started to protest, Hermione took Harry's hand in hers and led him outside into the backyard garden to relax and keep an eye out for Remus and Tonks. Athena and Crookshanks trailed after them.
Two hours passed before Miranda alerted Harry and Hermione of Remus and Tonks' arrival, and they made their way through the house and into the front yard to where the elder couple were waiting.
"Wotcha you two!" came Tonks' trademark greeting.
"Hey Tonks," Hermione greeted the metamorphmagus as Harry greeted Remus with a hug. "Remus."
When the two drew apart, Harry turned to Tonks and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek before turning his attention to little Teddy, whom Hermione had taken from Tonks whilst Harry had been greeting Remus. The seven month-old squealed when Harry lurched up to him like he was a booming monster and began to tickle him.
By this time, Jake and Miranda had come out of the house and made their way over to the congregation.
Hermione made the introductions, "Mum, Dad, I'd like you to meet Remus Lupin, his wife Nymphadora, who prefers to be called either Dora or Tonks and their son Teddy. Remus, Tonks, these are my parents: Jake and Miranda Granger."
The elder adults greeted each other before they all turned and headed inside.
As the others took a seat, Miranda returned to the kitchen, and Harry tried once again to offer his assistance, "Are you sure-"
"Sit," Miranda told him firmly.
As Harry reluctantly took his seat, Tonks chuckled before teasing him, "What'd you do Harry? Burn the toast?"
"Quite the opposite," Hermione replied. "Harry's been cooking for us all holiday. Mum's been complaining that she's going to be several pounds heavier by the time Harry returns to Auror headquarters."
"She's not the only one. You've been complaining about it too," Harry teasingly reminded her and Hermione whacked him on the head with a rolled-up newspaper in response.
Tonks and Remus just laughed.
The rest of the day seemed to fly by, filled with discussions and mirth, and close to dinner-time the Lupins left to spend the evening meal with Tonks' mother.
When Christmas Day had come to an end, the rest of the break had flown by like someone had hit a fast-forward button, and all too soon it was time for the two of them to part ways once again.
The two of them stood on the platform, wrapped up in an embrace, savouring their last few moments together.
"Hermione!" Rebecca came bolting up to her.
As Hermione dropped her hold on Harry, she noticed that Pan wasn't by her friend's side.
"You'll never guess what's happened!" Rebecca exclaimed as she came to a stop. "McGonagall's letting me take Pan back to Hogwarts!" Hermione let out a relieved breath at this. "Apparently Hagrid saw him when he was on the grounds at Halloween, and since he's studying Hippogriffs with his fourth year Care Of Magical Creatures class sometime this term, he decided he'd cover Griffins as well and he asked McGonagall if he could use Pan as a teaching aid!"
"I hope he can get on with Buckbeak," Harry mused.
Rebecca shot a curious look at Harry. "You mean the grey Hippogriff of Hagrid's?"
"The one and only. There's a long story behind it, but he actually belongs to me," Harry explained.
Rebecca blinked at that. "You sure that you don't want to become a Magizoologist?"
Harry laughed. "I think I'll leave the naturalist stuff to you and Luna. Give me a Dark wizard any day of the week. Anyways, you two ladies had better get on the train," he advised as he looked at his watch: 10:57. As Rebecca left to hop onto the Hogwarts Express, Harry and Hermione embraced, sharing one last kiss.
"Take care," Harry whispered when they drew apart.
"Stay safe," Hermione responded before she turned and hopped on the train, waving to him as it pulled out of the station.
The next two months had been hectic for the both of them, and their only line of communication had been through Athena.
But then, at the start of April;
McGonagall and Remus strode briskly and purposely through the halls on their way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
– – o – – o – –
Hermione was busily copying down notes when a knock sounded on the door.
"Come in," Professor Braveheart called out.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Professor Braveheart," came McGonagall's voice. "Could I please borrow Miss Granger for a moment?"
"Of course."
Hermione stood up and dutifully followed the Headmistress out into the hallway, but when she spotted Remus, she stopped dead in her tracks, her hands flying to her mouth, "No... oh Merlin... please, no..."
Remus gently gripped Hermione's shoulders. "Hermione listen to me; he's alright. He's been badly hurt, but he's alive."
"What... what happened?"
"His squadron was ambushed whilst on a training run. He's at St Mungo's now."
Hermione turned to McGonagall. "Can I... Am I allowed to go and see him Professor?" she hesitantly asked.
"Of course Miss Granger, I'll make sure that Miss Knight keeps notes for you."
With a nod of her head, Hermione turned and followed Remus.
An hour later found Remus and Hermione stepping out of the St Mungo's fireplace. Remus silently ushered Hermione through the magical hospital to Harry's room where Tonks was keeping vigil as a healer attended to her unconscious boyfriend. Hermione approached Tonks and her eyes pricked with tears as she saw the slash-like wound on Harry's back, starting on his right shoulder and ending at his left hip.
Tonks put a reassuring hand on her shoulder before addressing the healer, "Manmalis?" The healer looked up. "I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger, she's Harry's girlfriend. Hermione meet Manmalis."
Manmalis presented his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hermione."
"Likewise," she replied as she shook his hand before her eyes returned to Harry. "What happened?"
"He was hit with a two-tiered necrotizing curse."
Hermione audibly sucked in a breath at the healer's answer and Manmalis looked at her. "I take it that you've heard of the curse?"
"We just finished covering them in our Defence Against the Dark Arts class last week," Hermione whispered as she remembered what Professor Braveheart had told them;"These curses are two-fold in that they eat away at the body, but they also consume the magical core of a witch or wizard."
"Then you know what damage it can do?" Hermione nodded. "Thankfully, Harry has two things in running in his favour: One, he was brought in to St Mungo's not long after he'd been inflicted with the curse so we were able to halt its the toxic effects, and two, he's made it through the first twenty-four hours safely, which is often the main hurdle to these kind of recoveries. In my professional opinion, the greatest reason to hope for a full recovery is that these curses find damage to the body easier to inflict than damage to the magic. Magic is a burly thing, doesn't like to be attacked, and it fights like the devil. Considering how quickly Harry was brought in, the most damage he suffered was physical. That we can heal, with time, but if his magic had been irrevocably damaged-"
"-His chances of survival would have been low, and even then it would be only to live the rest of his life as a squib," Hermione finished
"All we can do now is wait. If you need anything, just flag one of the nurses down," the healer told the three of them before turning and leaving the room.
Two days had passed before Harry had woken up.
Hermione lay tucked up on the cot that she had asked to be brought into the room on the first night so that she could stay by Harry's side.
She was just starting to drift off when she heard a soft groan come from the bed.
In a flash she was by his side, watching as his eyes fluttered open, "'Mione?" he whispered hoarsely as his vision gradually returned to him.
"Hey," she whispered back.
"Where'm I?"
"St Mungo's. How are you feeling?"
"M'back hurts."
Hermione kissed his forehead in response. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Hnnnh," he responded as he closed his eyes again.
Knowing that Harry would make a full recovery with time, Hermione had happily returned to Hogwarts the following day.
A month had passed before Manmalis had seen fit to release Harry from St Mungo's with orders for the head of the Auror Department that he be placed on a two month injury leave.
"It's a good thing that you're ahead of everyone else." Tonks teased him over a family dinner with the Lupins one evening, "By the time that you've fully recuperated, the rest of the trainees will have caught up to you."
When he had returned to his quarters that same night, he had found a blonde-haired, brown-eyed man waiting for him.
"Can I help you?" Harry asked the man.
"My name is Leo Braveheart, Mr Potter. I'm the new-"
"-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts," Harry finished for him.
"How did y-No, let me guess: Miss Granger?"
Harry nodded his head.
"It's because of some of the things that Miss Granger's told me that I'm here, actually."
"Oh?"
"If you're interested, I have a proposition for you."
Harry sat down and indicated for Braveheart to do the same. "I'm listening."
Two days later, Harry had found himself back in the place that had become his first real home, a warm feeling shooting through him at the knowledge that he would be spending the remaining time of his injury leave here.
Once he'd settled into his room in the Staff Wing, he'd gone out into the grounds.
Harry smiled as Hagrid's hut came into view.
With a few hours to kill before the day's lessons ended, he had decided to come and visit the grounds-keeper. Drawing closer to the hut, Harry spotted Buckbeak and Pan lounging around near Hagrid's pumpkin patch and he made his way over to the Hippogriff. He stopped when he was a meter away from the grey beast and locked his green gaze with the Hippogriff's orange one as he bowed. Buckbeak returned the gesture immediately before he stood up and approached his master.
Harry had just started to pat Buckbeak when Hagrid appeared behind them. "Harry? Is tha' you?"
Harry turned. "Hey Hagrid."
"What are yeh doin' here?"
"I'm helping Leo Braveheart with his Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons for the next couple of months whilst I'm recovering," Harry explained.
"Hermione said tha' yeh'd been hit with a Dark curse," Hagrid said worriedly. "Yeh're doin' alrigh' now though?"
"I have my moments," Harry truthfully replied.
Hagrid laughed before he turned and headed into his hut. "Come on in."
It was nearly dusk before the two of them left the ground-keeper's hut to head up to the Great Hall for dinner. Once they'd started to talk, it had become clear that they had a lot to catch up on. Even now, as they made their way up into the castle, they were still chatting away. It was only as they approached the Hall that they stopped, mainly because Harry had just ducked behind Hagrid.
Hagrid furrowed his eyebrows, "Wha' are yeh doin' Harry?"
"I want to surprise Hermione," Harry explained.
With a smile, Hagrid moved off, walking between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Harry shadowed his movements until he saw Hermione, who was currently facing away him, as she spoke to Rebecca about something as they waited for dinner to appear.
"Can I join you?" he asked the two girls and then watched with a grin as Hermione realised just who was standing behind her.
"Harry!" she exclaimed as she turned to face him, the excitement caused by his presence lighting up her chocolate brown eyes. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she stood up and wrapped him in a hug. Harry tensed up the moment she pressed her arms against the still healing scar on his back.
Realizing what she'd done, Hermione dropped her arms in a flash. "I'm sorry!"
Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead, "Don't worry. It's not nearly as tender as it was a month ago."
At the show of affection between Harry and Hermione, whispers broke out throughout the Great Hall and Harry inwardly chuckled. Hermione had told him in one of her letters not long after they'd gotten together, that when the news of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger becoming a couple had first surfaced, it had spread like wildfire throughout the student community. Their conversation was halted by the evening meal as it appeared on the table. Taking a seat by Hermione, Harry happily tucked into the food before him.
"So, what are you doing here?" Hermione again questioned after a few minutes.
"I'll be helping Braveheart with his lessons for the next two months."
"You're on injury leave?"
"Mmmhmm. Hey Ginny," Harry greeted the youngest Weasley as she plonked herself down on the seat opposite him.
"Hey Harry," she greeted him half-heartedly as she began to eat, clearly in deep thought. But then after a moment, "Harry!" she exclaimed, looking at him with renewed vigour. "Our Seeker; Rowan Steele, had an accident in her Defence Against the Dark Arts class a couple of days ago and lost all the bones in her leg," Harry pulled a face as he was reminded of that second year Quidditch match when, at the hands of Lockheart, he had suffered a similar fate, "Her leg's all healed now, but Pomfrey told her no high-impact activities for the next two weeks and we've got a match with Ravenclaw coming up next weekend. Would you be interested in taking in her place?"
Harry opened his mouth to respond with an emphatic yes, but then that all too familiar Hermione-sounding voice whispered something in his mind, "I'd love to Gin, but I'm not a student anymore, and only students can play in their house teams."
Ginny chewed on her lip thoughtfully before speaking, "What if I talked to McGonagall and explained our situation?"
"I would if she said that I could."
Ginny immediately stood and strode up to the Staff table.
Harry had just loaded up his fork when a voice spoke up from behind him, "Harry, m'boy!"
Harry turned, mindful of his back, to face the Potions Master. "Hello, Professor."
"Leo told me that you'd be helping in his lessons for the next couple of months. I don't suppose that you'd be interested in helping me in a few of my Potions lessons as well?" Slughorn queried.
"So long as we balance things out, I don't see why not," Harry responded.
"Good," Slughorn beamed before continuing on his way, "Good evening, Miss Weasley," he addressed Ginny as they crossed paths; the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain returned the salutation, "Good evening, Professor."
When Ginny sat back down, Harry didn't need to ask what McGonagall's answer had been, the Cheshire grin that was plastered on her face told him everything that he needed to know.
'It's a good thing that it's the weekend tomorrow,' he thought before speaking aloud, "I take it that I've got to make a trip to Diagon Alley in the morning?"
Harry had risen early the following morning, and after having a quick breakfast in a relatively empty Great Hall, he left Hogwarts' grounds before he Apparated to Diagon Ally.
"I can't believe," Hermione began as she met him in the Entrance Courtyard shortly after one o'clock, "that it's taken you half a day to purchase a single broomstick!"
Harry tenderly kissed her before responding, "It wasn't just my broomstick that I needed to replace, 'Mione. I had to replace my Quidditch robes and protective gear as well."
"Your Quidditch robes?" she repeated with a furrowed brow.
"I left my original gear at Privet Drive when we set out on the Horcrux hunt," he explained, "And I'm pretty sure that the only thing left of them now is a few scattered ashes."
"But if the Dursleys still detest anything to do with magic. Why did they, or at least Dudley, respond to your Christmas card?"
"Because I addressed it and sent it in the Muggle way and then told Athena to wait in Privet Drive for a day or so to see if there was a response. Has lunch been served?"
"It has."
"Good, 'cause I'm starving!"
Laughing, Hermione took his parcels from him, leaving Harry to carry his new broomstick.
The moment that Harry stepped into the Great Hall, whispers followed him as he walked with Hermione to their usual spot at the Gryffindor table;
"Look at Potter's new broomstick!"
"That's the Firebolt Nova!"
"No way!"
"It's capable of going from naught to two hundred miles per hour in eight point five seconds!"
"Not to mention its reaction time is much quicker and sharper that its predecessor."
But as curious as the students were about the broomstick, they stayed away and let Harry eat his meal in peace, much to his relief.
After lunch, Harry took his broomstick and parcels to his room to unwrap and hang up the scarlet robes along with everything else before leaving the room and heading to the arranged meeting point.
"Meet me at the Library when you're done," Hermione told him before they parted ways. "I've got something that I want to show you,"
He found Hermione at her favourite table, tapping her quill, another Christmas gift from Rebecca as it was one of Pan's feathers, on a piece of parchment, clearly wrapped up in her thoughts. Taking a seat beside her, he reached over and tucked a straying lock of hair behind her ear, effectively bring her back to the present. "Galleon for your thoughts?" he questioned softly.
"I've been thinking," she started.
"Really? Go figure," he teased and Hermione whacked him with one of her textbooks. "Sorry. What were you saying?"
"We started doing human transformation in Transfiguration six weeks ago and it got me thinking, especially after you were ambushed. Harry, have you ever considered becoming an Animagus?"
Harry blinked at that.
Become an Animagus? He had never really given it much thought.
He knew that it was a very hard feat to manage, so difficult that few had mastered the skill. It was most definitely advanced spell-work. But he'd be lying if he said that it didn't have a certain allure. His father and godfather had both been unregistered Animagi. He'd always felt a certain pride in his father's ability to become a stag. But he'd never thought of trying to do it himself.
Could he even do it?
Hermione continued on, "I know you're a skilled and powerful wizard, but what if the time came that you found yourself in a tight spot? Worse than what happen to you this time? Having something to fall back on, offensive or defensive, would be really useful. And look at Sirius. Because of his canine form he was able to slip past the Dementors and escape from Azkaban. Whatever animal form you took, it would be sure to have some ability superior to any humans'. Breathe underwater, run faster, jump higher, maybe even fly! Who knows, but anything to give you an edge; an advantage in any shape or form."
"It sounds like a good idea," he told her. "I just have one request, though."
"What's that?"
"That you become an Animagus as well."
Hermione was stunned, "Me? I-I don't know..."
"At least say that you'll think about it?"
Hermione relented. "Alright."
"Good. Now, what have you found?"
Hermione opened the book before her and began to read from it, "The first step to becoming an Animagus, and by far the longest and most difficult in the multi-step process, is the retraining of the brain to connect with the natural world. This preliminary step is where most witches and wizards attempting the transformation fail. To truly harmonize oneself with their animal form, a witch or wizard must wilfully and consciously abandon part of themselves to their animal instincts. Only when tokens of this union with the world transcending human experience are fully connected to the witch or wizard seeking form beyond human can one transition from the human shape of witch or wizard to the adopted form of beast. Here too lie complications, for even if one has the mental discipline to adjust their thinking, many witches and wizards are inherently incapable of accepting that they have an animal counterpart woven into their magical psychological profile. If one cannot surrender to the idea of possessing animal qualities they will never succeed in physically transforming into that animal shape."
Harry looked pensive. "Okay."
"I've been thinking about what they mean by 'retraining the brain', and I think it could mean meditation."
"Meditation? Like, yoga?"
Hermione smiled. "Something like that, yes. In the Muggle world there are alternative medicine theories as well as religious subgroups that suggest meditation to do very much the same thing, get in touch with nature, and transcend human consciousness. I think that kind of approach is what this book suggests is necessary for the first step."
"What about tokens? What does that mean?"
Hermione looked down at the book and played with the edge of the page. "Maybe we're supposed to gather bits of the natural world. Perhaps we're meant to collect as many pieces of nature as we can, you know, as many kinds of grass, or types or leaves, or bits of animal hair from as many species we can, feathers... I don't know, but those would be 'tokens', don't you think?"
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe we should ask McGonagall about it?" he suggested.
Hermione brightened at that, "Harry, you're a genius!" she exclaimed before leaning in to kiss him. Behind them, someone wolf-whistled, but stopped when Madame Pince grabbed the offender by the ear and dragged them out of the Library. "Owowowowow."
When they drew apart, Hermione spoke, albeit a bit breathily, "Why don't we go and see her in the morning?"
"Sounds like a plan."
That evening, after dinner, the Gryffindor Quidditch team had headed to the Quidditch Pitch for practice and Harry had relished the feeling of being in the air once again.
When practice had finished, Harry had followed the team back up to Gryffindor Tower.
"Knight's Honour," Ginny spoke the password to the Fat Lady and the portrait swung open.
As the team clamoured through the portrait hole, Harry saw Hermione curled up on the lounge in front of the fire, engrossed in her homework.
She looked up as he took a seat beside her. "Hey."
"Hey. Need any help?"
In answer, she closed her books and packed away her quill and parchment before snuggling into him. He responded by curling his arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head. They remained that way for a few minutes before Harry spoke up, "Have you given the becoming an Animagus idea any further thought?"
Hermione sighed before pulling back, "I don't think I'm-"
"If it's a question of magical prowess, you're just as capable as I am, 'Mione," he cut her off, "My talent may lie in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but overall, you are the strongest one out of the two of us." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his already unkempt hair. "The only reason that I'm pushing this is because if something were to happen to you, I'd never be able to forgive myself."
Hermione hugged him, understanding his concern. "Alright, I'll do it."
The next morning, after breakfast, they headed to the Headmistress' office.
Harry knocked on the door, and after McGonagall called for them to enter, opened it before stepping aside to let Hermione enter first.
"Harry, Miss Granger," McGonagall greeted them as they took a seat in front of her desk. "How can I help you?"
"Professor, Harry and I are interested in becoming Animagi. I checked this book out of the Library," Hermione showed McGonagall the book. "There's an extensive chapter on Animagi in it, but we wanted to ask you some questions about the process, seeing as you've been through it."
The Headmistress regarded the couple for a moment before saying: "What do you want to know?"
"From what we've read, Hermione thinks," Harry spoke, "that to 'retrain one's thinking' refers to meditation of some kind, trying to get in touch with nature. And she thinks 'tokens' means we're to collect things, like leaves and feathers."
McGonagall looked proudly at Hermione. "You are right, Miss Granger. For the first phase of the process, you have to tap into the magical imprint inside everything in nature. You have to retrain your brain to reach the magic of something, know its magic, connect with it, and then it becomes your token," Hermione nodded her head in understanding, "But this is where most witches and wizards fail because they think like a human too much. You have to retrain your brain, learn to find the magic in everything, but not everything's magic can be your token. Take a leaf for example. Every leaf has magic, part of the living essence of the tree. One leaf won't token to you, but maybe another will. You can't take a token that's not yours and you can't ignore one that picks you. Collect what is yours for the final incantation, but only yours. If it's not your token, it will sour the spell. Many witches and wizards try to force their tokens, and that's not natural. A wizard thinks that a rock should be a token, because rocks are nature, so he takes it, but it didn't token itself to him, so he thought like a human and the animal within him doesn't like that. It won't join with him for lies. Your animal won't join with you if you try to trick it."
"Honesty, fidelity," Hermione mused.
McGonagall beamed. "Exactly, Miss Granger."
"And how do we meditate to reach this magic?" Harry asked.
"I cannot teach you how, but I can tell you what you need to do. You have to stop thinking like a human. Be part of the leaves, be the magic in you that connects to the magic in the leaves."
It was a baffling riddle to Harry, but Hermione was relieved. "Thank you so much, Professor. We'll work really hard, but we won't think really hard."
McGonagall nodded her head, "You understand what you've got to do, Miss Granger. I expected nothing less of you."
"Well, I'm glad someone does," Harry mumbled.
Hermione looked at him. "Oh, you'll do it, Harry. It's about gut instinct, if I understand what Professor McGonagall has told us correctly, and you're very good at going on instinct." When Harry shook his head, still not understanding, she tried another angle, "Think of it this way. When you're catching the Snitch, how much are you actually thinking?"
Harry blinked and the first whisper of understanding shot through him. "Hardly at all."
"Exactly. You need to stop thinking." Hermione turned back to the Headmistress. "What's the second phase, Professor?"
"The second phase is a potion to bind the token magic to the witch or wizard. The individual magic of each object is only sporadically connected to the greater magical energy in nature... the way your tokens jump out at you in flashes and you don't feel them all the time. You need to bind them together and to yourselves. There is also spell you'll have to learn before your first attempt."
Harry scowled at this.
"Honestly, Harry!" Hermione chided her boyfriend. "Did you think you'd manage an accomplishment such as this without some work?"
"Hoped so," Harry corrected.
"You won't be able to try the actual spell for the first transformation until the first full moon." McGonagall spoke, returning the two teen's attention to her.
"Why a full moon?" Harry questioned
"The lunar cycle has a very powerful influence on animals. Your inner animals will be more easily awakened under a full moon."
"Are we supposed to have a certain number of tokens to do it?" Hermione asked.
"The more the better, but it cannot be done with less than five. You have to be able to form a pentagram with the objects. You will also need to register at the Ministry of Magic before you start," McGonagall told them.
"I'll send word to the Improper Use of Magic Office today," Harry assured the once-Transfiguration teacher.
McGonagall nodded, "Is there anything else that you wish to know?"
The teens shook their heads before standing and making their way to the door.
"One more thing," McGonagall spoke as Harry opened the door, "make sure that you take care in your Quidditch practice and match, Harry. The last thing we want is for you to be reinjured."
"I'll be diligent, Professor; I promise you that," Harry assured her.
"Very well."
Once they'd left McGonagall's office, Harry and Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower to grab some parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink before heading for the Owlery.
They were just heading along one of the corridors when Peeves suddenly burst from one of the walls ahead of them. The couple stopped immediately and Harry tensed when the poltergeist spotted them, waiting for the mischievous ghost's latest prank. But nothing came.
Instead, he started singing:
~We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the One
And Voldy's gone mouldy, so now let's have fun~
Once he'd finished, Peeves took off down the corridor.
Hermione furrowed her brow as she watched the poltergeist go. "Why would he still be..." she trailed off.
"Hermione?" Harry questioned, touching her arm with concern.
She surprised him by suddenly wrapping him up in hug. "It's been a year," she whispered fervently into his neck. "One whole year since you defeated Voldemort."
They stood there in the loving embrace for what seemed to be hours, before remembering that they had something to do.
Letting go of one another, they continued on their way
The Owlery was as it usually was: noisy.
As Harry went to find Athena, Hermione penned the letter to the Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office. When Harry returned with Athena perched on his arm, they attached the letter to her leg and sent the barn owl on her way.
– – o – – o – –
Dinner that evening was part celebration, made even more special by the fact that Harry was among them.
TBC...
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