AN: I like to do my AN's at the beginning of a chapter. Dunno why, since most people I know do it at the end. This is also completely irrelevant to what I wanted to say.
THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! These reviews are like my lifelines, especially now that my parents have banned me from writing T.T
XiXi Scarlet: What gives you the impression that I am a Muggle? All right, so my Pottermore email hasn't come yet, but I'm sure that's just one of Dobby's distant relatives. I will hurt anyone who says otherwise glares around threateningly But thanks for the hug Draco :D By the way, did you ever notice that Sirius' initials spell S.O.B? Weird isn't it xD
Zireael07: Thanks :D Yes, poor Lavender indeed. What of the cubs?
DZAuthor aka DZMom: Yes, I Googled it, and it indeed is Dennis, instead of Denise. I think I've got all the spots edited out in Chapter Six, but if I happened to miss one, please tell me! I've written all his appearances in this chapter as Dennis, I think. Thanks also for the pairing ideas, but as I don't exactly how this story will go, I'll just wait until it all plays out to name the characters. Then, I'll probably use one of your ideas :D
Yes, I'm done jabbering now. Here is the chapter.
Hermione was quietly reading when the doorknob rattled. Jumping up, she grabbed her wand and pointed it at the intruder.
"Who's there?" She called out. Twelve years after, but you still never know when evil might come a-knocking, especially being a member of the Golden Trio and all.
"Geez, Hermione," A familiar voice complained. "It's just, me, Ginny."
"Show yourself," Hermione didn't lower her wand; she was only too familiar with the effects of Polyjuice Potion and the Imperius Curse and whatnot.
"You'll never relax your guard, would you? Fine, I am Ginevra Molly Potter, nee Weasley, the only daughter of Molly and Arthur Weasley. You married my older brother, Ronald Bilius Weasley and I married your best friend, Harry James Potter. Our children's names are James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna. My Patronus takes the shape of a horse and yours takes the shape of an otter."
"Come in then," Hermione put her wand back down. Ginny walked in, looking disgruntled.
"I think you're taking constant vigilance a bit too far," the redhead sighed. "I know, I know, Harry and I are going to go get a pair of werewolf cubs, but seriously?"
"Ginny, when you get to my age, then you'll understand," Hermione said in a fake-serious voice. Ginny laughed and shoved her best friend. "So what did you really come for?"
"Advice,"
"Usually you're the one who gives me advice," Hermione joked. "But what's up?"
"I can't really explain," Ginny groaned, massaging her forehead. "Some days I feel great but then the next second I'm close to biting poor Harry's head off,"
"Nothing new then," Hermione teased, but the look on her friend's face ended her laugh before it even started.
"No, I'm serious, really, Hermione, I need your help. I don't know what's happening!" Ginny finished with a frustrated stomp of her foot. Hermione set down her book and wrapped her arms around Ginny.
"You probably heard this a lot, coming from me, but the best advice I can give you is—"
"—To relax, I know, Hermione," Ginny said in a weary voice. Hermione smiled.
"Just give Lily to Mrs. Weasley for a few nights, and if you want, I can handle the boys. Order out, instead of cooking," Hermione suggested. "That'll take the stress right off."
"All right," Ginny agreed, though a bit dubiously. "But, I dunno, the kids are fine, it's Harry that I can't stand these days."
"What? Why?" Hermione perked up. "If he hurt you in anyway, I'm going to hex his—"
"Relax, Mione," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Nothing like that. It's just that, things that he does, which I used to consider sweet, just annoys the hell out of me now. Like the other day, he poured my milk for me in the morning and I—I don't know what got into me, but I just got so angry, like I thought he thought that I couldn't pour my own milk!" Ginny fumed at herself. "What's happening? Harry's done nothing wrong but I can't stop myself from snapping at him."
"That sounds….familiar," Hermione said thoughtfully, tapping her chin.
"Familiar, how?"
"Well, it happens during my time of month, for starters,"
"But my PMS isn't until week after next!"
"And sometimes when I don't get enough sleep, then Ron's on the receiving end of my crabbiness."
"Lily's been fine, and the boys sleep like there's no tomorrow."
"Maybe you should tell Harry how you feel," Hermione looked at her friend concernedly. "Or should I?"
"No, don't bother him with trivial things like my mood swings," Ginny sighed. "He's leading the mission and all; I don't want him to worry more than he has to."
"Now that you mention it, Ron's been acting like he's got PMS too," Hermione remarked. "That can't have anything to do with Harry not bringing him on the mission, can it?"
"No, of course not," Ginny answered sarcastically. Hermione rolled her eyes fondly.
"Gin, if you're still capable of sarcasm, then nothing's too bad."
Ginny nodded, considering this. "I suppose…"
"Just rest as much as you can, because I don't think you'll be getting too much of that once the mission starts."
"Thank you so much, Hermione." Ginny hugged her sister-in-law. "And not a word of this to Harry, all right?"
Hermione sighed. "Oh, all right, but I still think you should tell him—"
"No," Ginny answered determinedly. "He's got enough on his plate already,"
"But I don't really think you and him should keep secrets from each other…" Hermione started but got cut off by the doorbell ringing.
"Who is it?" She called.
"It's Harry!" A voice called.
"Show yourself," Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione, who shook her head.
"I, Harry James Potter, husband of Ginevra Molly Potter, father of James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna, have come to call upon Hermione Jean Weasley, nee Granger, who is the wife of Ronald Bilius Weasley, who is also our best friend." Harry recited.
"All right, come in," Ginny opened the door.
"Hey Ginny, what are you doing here?" Harry asked, sitting down on the couch.
"What, so I can't visit my sister-in-law now?" Ginny rolled her eyes and kissed her husband. Hermione averted her eyes and sighed.
"So, Harry, what'd you come for?" she sighed.
"What, I can't visit my sister-in-law now?" Harry joked, tousling Ginny's hair. She forced a smile and shot Hermione a look that said, See, this is what I mean.
I see…..Hermione thought. "Any particular reason?" She asked. Harry looked embarrassed.
"Er…..is Ron home?" He asked awkwardly. It had been a day since the row they had at the Ministry, and things weren't looking good.
"I actually don't know where he is," Hermione frowned. "Probably at the Leaky Cauldron making himself sick with firewhiskey."
"Tell him I said sorry," Harry muttered.
"If he's the man that we all know and love, you shouldn't be apologizing to him," Hermione said firmly. "From what I heard, it's mostly his fault."
"It's all his fault," Ginny muttered.
"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed. "I've had my share of bad decisions in this too, you know."
"I do know," His wife snapped, jumping up. "Because you've made plenty of them in my presence!"
With that, she stomped toward the door and yanked it open, storming out then Disapparating on the spot. Harry stared, open-mouthed.
"What was hell that about?" He asked incredulously. Hermione sighed. She did not like to be stuck between something like this.
"Just listen to me, and be nice," She whispered under her breath, as if Ginny could hear her.
"But I am!" Harry was confused by all this. It was like being with Cho all over again. "I get her breakfast and everything."
"Yes, I know," Hermione stifled a sigh. "But you got to know when to let her do it, and when to help her."
"But—what?"
Hermione fought down the urge to whack him around the head. "It's hormones, Harry! You know, a woman's mood swings?"
Realization dawned on Harry's face. "Oh."
"Yep," Hermione said grimly. "Be grateful that you're male."
"Hormones," Harry said to himself. "Why didn't I think of that?"
Hermione sighed. Her best friend could be truly stupid at times.
Dennis forced open his eyes. He was lying on a cushiony mattress, with a downy blanket over his bare chest; whoever had brought him here had taken his clothes. He surveyed the unfamiliar room and instinctively reached for his wand. It wasn't there. Somewhat worried, he tried to sit up and promptly fell back down again, his head spinning. Right before his head hit the pillow, a tall, willowy figure hurried in. she was vaguely familiar, but Dennis couldn't imagine where he had seen this stunning girl.
"Hello," She laughed. "I see you've woken up."
"Where am I?" He asked, not bothering with pleasantries, though he felt slightly ashamed that he was being so indifferent to the girl.
"In my house," She bustled around the bed, making sure the ends of the blankets were properly tucked in and that his pillows were nicely fluffed up. Then she used a wand to pour some tea. Aha, Dennis thought. So she's a witch.
"How did I get here?" He asked. The slight worry he felt before was now turning into a sense of distinct unease. The fact that his captors could do magic only made the situation more complicated; clearly, they had known that he could do magic so therefore, they were comfortable with displaying it around him. His brain digested this information thoughtfully.
"I found you passed out on the streets on my way to the market," She answered. "So I brought you back home for my mother to give you something for heatstroke."
It was a very good cover story, but Dennis had been taught in his training to never trust anyone except known allies on a mission. "Where's my wand?" He tried again.
"Right here," She pulled it out of a pocket. He made to take it from her, but the girl only withdrew it. "Now, now, you've only just woken up; we don't want you destroying anything with your wand, do we?"
"I'm fine," He insisted. "Thank you for you and your mother's hospitality, but I do need to get going now."
"Why not stay a little bit longer?" She pouted, he dark blue eyes almost overflowing with sadness. Dennis felt a pang. A feeling of despair sprang up in him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset—" he began.
"No, no, that's all right. I understand." The girl turned away, but not before Dennis saw a lone teardrop sparkling on her cheek. "Let me show you the way out, but it would mean the world if you can stay, only if for a day."
A worm of doubt entered his mind. The girl seemed to sense that and widened her blue eyes, her small mouth puckered hopefully.
"All right," Dennis relented. "Just one day. But no more."
"Oh yes?" Her perfect, pink lips turned up in a small smirk. "I think you'll change your mind soon."
"What do you mean?" Dennis stammered, completely distracted by the fact that the girl was climbing into the bed, right next to him. She molded her body to his, so that he could feel every curve, every womanly place of it. With a snap of her fingers, her garments disappeared, leaving the two of them together in the bed, nude.
"I think we both know the answer to that," She chuckled lightly. Then her lips were upon his, and Dennis, for the second time, knew no more.
