Chapter 7 Is that YOU, Harry?

"Who is that?" Hermione woke up, startled.

She had been laying in bed almost asleep, when she heard the voice. It was a still, small voice, distinctly speaking to her, calling her by name.

It was the end of term, Hermione had completed her education at Hogwarts, degree in hand, and a fully certified witch. A real magical being in her own right. Yet, with all the amazing sights she's seen and stories she's heard, the only one she'd been able to identity hearing a voice was with Harry in his second year.

This had Hermione scared, because she knew what Harry went through during that year and she didn't want to go through it.

Not willingly, anyway.

Yet, the voice sounded friendly, familiar. And that had her wondering.

So, she did the logical thing: She asked a question.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked.

"It's me, Harry." Responded the voice.

"Harry? Harry who?" replied the voice.

"Oh come on Hermione, it's me, Harry Potter. What a question to ask!" replied the voice.

"Harry? Harry? It can't be you. Where are you? I mean, you – you're, well, you know, you're not alive, are you?" Hermione responded not knowing what to say, or even how to say. In fact she didn't even know where to look to talk.

"Where are you, Harry?"

"I'm with you, Hermione, right here" said Harry.

"Here? Are you invisible? A ghost? Of course you're a ghost, you're dead. Well, you're body is, anyway. You're alive. I was, well, you know." Hermione said.

"Hermione, I understand," Harry said.

"Harry, I, well, I was promised to be with you, you and James. I was promised that you'd be reunited with us.

"Promised? Us? By whom? Hermione, you're not making any sense." Harry asked, clearly perplexed.

"Harry, oh Harry, I thought I'd lost you, dear. I didn't know what to do. I was at my wits' end. After I was promised, by Father, that you'd be reunited with us. . . . "Hermione was shaking, almost near tears.

Tears of happiness.

"Hermione, you didn't answer my question: Who promised what?" Harry asked.

"Well, since you're already, well, dead, I guess it doesn't really matter now. On the other hand, I guess it really does matter. You're in the perfect place to, well, . . . "

"Hermione, quite stalling." Harry said.

"Harry, Father promised me, me and James, shortly after we died. Harry, I really missed you. James and I didn't know what to do, so, I just went to Father and asked him if we could go back. Harry, I wanted to take care of you, to watch over you, to lead and guide you while you grew up. I didn't want you to go through life alone with no guidance." Hermione said.

"Wait, Hermione, what are you talking about? You sound like my Mum when you're talking like that.

"Well, Harry, I am." Hermione replied, smiling, her heart beating rather fast. She didn't want to scare Harry away.

At this statement Harry fell silent, not caring to comment.

"Harry? Are you still here?" Hermione asked rather gently.

"Yes, yes I am. Just thinking, that's all," he replied.

"I don't want to frighten you away," Hermione said, "Its' just that I didn't expect you to be here, inside me, or where ever it is."

"Well, I guess that's where I am. I didn't have any other place to go for the moment, when I left, that is." Harry explained.

"What do you mean? I thought we all had someplace to go, to be." Hermione mentioned.

"We do. It's just that, well, when I got hit, I found myself outside my own body. And when I did, I saw you, except you didn't look like you do now."

"How else am I supposed to look? Hermione asked. She asked this question knowing full well what Harry saw, but she just wanted to be sure about him.

"You were glowing, a brilliant white, clear color. You were . . . beautiful. I've never seen anyone like you. I didn't know why, but I was drawn to you. It felt just 'right'." Harry explained.

"Harry, I understand, believe me, I understand more than you think I do. So, just relax, and don't worry. You're home now. You're with family, and we'll never part. Ever!"

"Ever?", asked Harry mostly to himself. He had to think on this one. So, he continued talking to Hermione, speaking his heart to her. He knew, he just KNEW she'd understand.

"I don't know why, but I feel comfortable being here, with you. Some day, you'll have to explain why." Harry said this, not knowing why.

Hermione was just standing there, smiling to herself inwardly, knowing all the reasons and all the answers that Harry was looking for. But, not yet, she told herself, now is not the time to disclose too much information. Too much has to be played out before the whole truth can be realized.

And only then, thought Hermione, would her family be together, again, for the second, and final time!

With this thought, Hermione got dressed and went down stairs to find that Molly was already starting breakfast and wanted to help.

"Hello, dear" said Molly, turning to look at Hermione. "Sleep well?" she asked.

"Y – yea. Yes, I did." Responded Hermione, somewhat startled at the question, but not knowing why. What was she going to tell Molly: "Oh, by the way, I talked to Harry this morning. Seems he's somewhere close by me, like, I'm not sure, but, inside my head. I can talk to him, but I'm the only person who can hear him." That thought ran through her and little wonder, after thinking it through that she didn't want to say anything – yet anyways. She had to work this out, somehow. It's like having your own personal ghost for company.

IF she DID say something to anyone, what'd she say? How? How to prove it? Anyway, this will work itself out, somehow. It always does, especially with Harry involved.

Hermione smiled to herself at that last thought.

"Hermione, dear, what are you smiling about?" asked Molly. She looked directly at Hermione, knowing that something was up, but not quite what. Molly has that sixth sense about her. She can automatically tell when one of her own kids is up to something or hiding something. Must be those years of being around them.

"I was just thinking of Harry." Hermione answered. "I was thinking of how much I miss him already. I just don't know how Ginny is taking all this. She was really attached to him. I think much more than that." Hermione replied gently.

"Yes, I know what you mean. Ginny has been very depressed and sad, since, well, you know. She needs someone to help her along, and I thought that you and her, being such good friends, can help each other out?" Molly asked gently.

"Oh, of course. I'll always be here for Ginny. She's the closest girlfriend I've got. In fact, if I had a sister, I'd want it to be her." Hermione replied.

"Thank you." Molly smiled and turned back to her work in the kitchen.

As Hermione was sitting down at the table, she heard that voice again, familiar for these many years she's been in school, knowing who it was: "Hermione, are you still here?"

Hermione looked up and was wondering what to say. If she spoke out, Molly and the others would wonder, and ask, who she was talking to. Quietly, she got up to go outside.

"Yes, Harry, I'm still here." Hermione replied, quietly, afraid that someone might, just might, hear her.

"Thanks, for your support and caring for Ginny. I do like her, still." Harry replied gently.

"She's my girlfriend. She's the only one I can go to if I need a shoulder to lean on, Harry. Of all the people, the girls I know, she understands me, knows what I've been through, and she just doesn't criticize me." Hermione tried to explain her feelings to Harry, hoping he'd understand.

"Besides, you've got Ron. He's your best friend. You and him talk to one another, support one another. It's the same way with me and Ginny." Hermione explained.

"I know, I just wanted to thank you. Saying 'thanks' is the best I can do now." Harry replied.

"Don't worry, Harry. I understand." Hermione said.

From the doorway, Ron was standing, looking at Hermione. She was just walking in the yard, away from the house, waving her hands somewhat and seeming to be talking, but Ron didn't see anyone else there.

"Blimey," thought Ron, "Hermione's flipped, or something." Shaking his head, he just turned around and went back into the house. Besides, its' breakfast time, and there are SOME things that just can't wait, and eating is definitely one of them!

"Besides," thought Ron to himself, "I'll ask Hermione later if she's ok."

As Hermione came back into the Burrow's Kitchen door, she saw Ron sitting down at the table, eating as usual. "Humph," thought Hermione, "Whoever marries Ron better be able to COOK, and cook a LOT, what with the way he eats. It's a wonder he doesn't get as big as Harry's cousin Dudley." But, she liked him, why, she just didn't know, couldn't even put a finger on it. Ever since that first year, in fact, that first time she saw him sitting in the train car, going to Hogwarts, sitting there in the same compartment with Harry, her heart suddenly flipped. It was like butterfly's in her stomach. He just took her breath away, and still, here she was, in her seventh year, and she still felt the same way! Well, I guess, that's love for you." Hermione thought to herself.

She sat down beside Ron, but before doing so, walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, giving him the best hug she could, kissing him on his cheeks.

"What was that for?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Oh, I saw you here, and I just wanted to hug you, you know."

"I know?"

"Ron! I like you! I've always liked you." Hermione said, quietly.

Hermione looked at Ron, smiled. She just sat there and smiled.

"Hermione, I know you like me. I've seen it in you for some time now. I feel that it could be more than just 'like', between you and me.

"Thank you, Ron." Hermione said looking him directly in his eyes, not breaking the contact. "I'd like for that feeling, between you and I, to be more than just 'like', also."

Ron smiled, reached over to her as she had sat down beside him, and kissed her on her cheek.

That felt good to him, comfortable, warm, familiar even somehow. It just felt RIGHT to be with Hermione.

Hermione felt the same way.

They both knew it. The same feeling going through them was starting to re-ignite that bond that was between them, from long ago, was just now beginning to reassert itself – and it would not be denied.