The Harmony bond, chapter fourteen.
Author's note...
IMPORTANT – To those who are worried by the last few part of this chapter, please read the author's note at the end before jumping down my throat!
Disclaimer:-
To anyone who has been on another planet since 1997, this is to let you know that Harry Potter belongs to J., her various publishers and Warner Brothers. This story and any new characters belong to me.
In the previous chapter...
Water fights, problems with wands and Hermione got stung protecting Harry. Professor Flitwick's training has begun to have an effect.
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Hermione woke first and was pleasantly surprised to find Harry's arm around her. She lay there for a while wondering if she dare try to reach out to him with her mind like she had read about in the book on bonding. Reluctantly she decided against the idea. It might wake him up, and he might not be very happy at her trying to get into his mind while he was asleep.
After a short while, she carefully moved his arm. He didn't stir, so she quietly got out of bed and went back to her room to get her clothes, then went to wash and change.
When she got downstairs, her father was sitting at the breakfast table reading the newspaper. "Hi, Dad."
"Hi, darling. How's it going with Harry?"
She loved the way her father did that. No nonsense. Straight to the point. Her mother would have been more vague, more careful not to risk offending or upsetting her.
"Good, I think," she replied. "He seems more relaxed with me now."
"And how about you with him?"
Hermione hesitated. "It's hard. I like him, but I'm scared to like him. What if he gets bored with me like all my other friends?"
"Well, he can't just leave you, can he?"
"No," she admitted. "But what if he wishes he could? What if he only likes me because he has to? Or he doesn't like me, but he has to pretend to because of the bond?"
"Sometimes, Hermione, you're not very observant. You only have to look at him to know that he thinks that the sun shines out of your..."
A loud cough from behind made him stop in mid phrase.
"Hi, Mum. We were just talking..."
"I heard. While I would certainly NOT express it quite the same way as your father," and the look her mother gave her father at that moment made her realise that they would be having a "talk" later, "what he means is true. Harry adores you. You can see it in his eyes."
"But that's because I was just the first person to try being nice to him. What about when he doesn't feel like that any more?"
"Why are you so worried about something that isn't going to happen?"
"She's just worried Harry will be like all her old school friends," her father explained.
"Talking about school, how long have I got to stay off school?" Hermione asked.
Her mother smiled, spotting easily the attempt to change the subject. "I don't know. They wanted you to be together as much as possible to repair the bond."
"I can't believe I've missed so much school and didn't even think about it," Hermione commented.
"You've had a lot on your mind," her father pointed out. "How about we wait till the weekend, then ask Madam Pomfrey what she thinks? Maybe you can start back next week and take Harry with you."
"Talking of next week," her mother smiled, "Monday is your birthday."
"I'd forgotten."
"Good job we haven't. What would you like for your birthday?"
"To start back at school?" asked Hermione.
Her father rolled his eyes. "You've got to be the only child in England who wants to go back to school for her birthday present." Then he added, "I wonder when Harry's birthday is."
"I'll ask him." She got up to go upstairs.
"Not now," her mother warned. "He's sleeping. Don't wake him up for that. When I think how those... people made him get up early to do everything for them..."
Hermione knew her mother had had to struggle not to use a word she would have told her father off for using and she would have been amused but for the feeling of sadness about how Harry had lived all those years.
"I bet he's never even HAD a birthday present," Hermione said, sadly.
They'd actually finished breakfast when Harry came downstairs. "I'm sorry I slept too long," he said, guiltily.
"Harry," Mr. Granger said firmly. "If you need to be up by a certain time, we will tell you, and we will wake you up if need be. If not, you can sleep as long as you need to, okay?"
"What would you like for breakfast?" Mrs. Granger asked.
"I'm okay," he began. "I'm not really hungry." Then he caught Hermione's eye on him and he knew she was telling him to let them care for him. "Some cereal, please?"
"Harry," said Mr. Granger when Harry had eaten half his bowl of cereal. "Hermione is nine on Monday. Before you came down we were wondering when your birthday is."
"July 31st," he replied.
"But you were with us, here, then," Hermione cried. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I didn't... I don't know," Harry finished miserably.
Hermione got up and left the room and ran upstairs. Even after she slammed her bedroom door, they could hear her crying.
Harry looked as uncomfortable as he felt. "What did I do wrong?" he pleaded.
"Nothing Harry," Mrs. Granger assured him. "When you love someone, you hurt when they are hurt. She's just upset that you felt so unwanted for so long that you didn't think that we might want to celebrate your birthday."
"Nobody has before," he said.
"I know, Harry. And that's why she's so sad right now."
Harry looked so guilty that Mrs. Granger was forced to say, "It isn't your fault, Harry. If anybody's, it's the fault of those horrible relatives of yours."
It was quite some time later, almost time for the professor to arrive, that Hermione came back downstairs. Mr. Granger had gone to work. "Mum, if we're allowed to go back to school next week, can we start on Tuesday?"
"Of course, dear. Why?"
"Would it be okay if we treated Monday as Harry's birthday too?"
Mrs. Granger smiled. Harry just looked stunned. He wanted to talk to Hermione, but even he had worked out that he would only end up upsetting her if he did that.
"You'll both have to decide what you really would like to do on your birthday then," said Mrs. Granger as the floo flared into life.
Harry was surprised as Hermione went straight up to the professor and smiled, "Thank you, professor."
"I didn't think you'd want to see me again, but Professor McGonagall said that it wouldn't take you long to work it out," he laughed.
"I didn't really," Hermione admitted. "Mum told me."
"I take it that you haven't shared the information?" the professor asked, nodding pointedly at Harry, whose expression was somewhere between a scowl and puzzled.
"Harry, it's okay."
"But he hurt you," Harry protested.
"Mum made me see. He only did it to help you trust me."
Harry looked frustrated.
"I didn't see it either till she explained. The professor knew I'd try to protect you when he was going to sting you that time."
"So?" Harry still sounded sullen.
"Harry, may I explain?"
Harry nodded, but his reluctance was obvious.
"Even though she didn't know what I was doing, Hermione deliberately let herself get hurt instead of you. Deep inside you know that means she cares about you enough to do that. It is just a step to building the trust between you."
"And it worked Harry. You let me hold you last night and I've never seen you so relaxed." She didn't mention that he'd been holding her when she woke up.
"But I don't want him hurting you because of me," Harry protested.
"Harry. This isn't just for you," the professor pointed out. "This is for both of you."
"I don't want you hurting Hermione any more," Harry insisted.
"Harry, I don't want to hurt either of you. But I will do whatever is best for both of you long term."
Harry nodded, but his reluctance was obvious.
The Professor started as he had before, but, to the children's surprise, instead of the stinging hex coming from his wand, there was a jet of water, rather more powerful than the water they had been able to produce.
After they'd successfully protected each other for a while, it was Harry's turn to be wandless again and this time Hermione lowered her wand. Harry was soaked in seconds and looked at her, startled.
"That's for getting me when I wasn't expecting it yesterday," she grinned.
"Wait till it's your turn," Harry threatened jokingly.
The professor waved his wand silently and Harry found himself dry.
"How did you do that?" Hermione asked.
Professor Flitwick smiled. "To quote Professor Dumbledore, that's magic. Perhaps we'd better find another way to practice."
"I'd guessed that much," Hermione replied, "but don't worry, I won't soak him again."
The look on Harry's face told the professor that Harry wasn't thinking the same. It reminded the old professor of another Potter, years before, planning mischief.
"All the same," he said, smiling, "I think I've probably done all I can right now. It's just as well as Madam Pomfrey is coming to see you both shortly. Now, I have a busy day tomorrow, so I will see you Saturday."
As he left, Hermione turned to Harry and said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to spoil it."
"I'll get you next time," was his only reply.
"You can try," Hermione retorted.
Harry picked up his wand from where the professor had left it and Hermione ran inside as Harry chased her.
"Whoa!" said her mother as Hermione crashed into her, almost knocking her off balance. "What do we say about running in the house? You could hurt someone." To Hermione, she sounded a little cross, but not really.
"Sorry, Mum," she said.
Then they both noticed a terrified look on Harry's face. Mrs. Granger bent down to him and he flinched, "Harry. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you, or Hermione."
"Sorry, Mrs. Granger," he said, still obviously nervous.
Deciding that it was probably better to say nothing further on that subject, Mrs. Granger said, "I was just coming out to get you as Madam Pomfrey is here to see you both."
Both children were obviously pleased to see Madam Pomfrey. "Just sit down and make yourselves comfortable," she told them and was pleasantly surprised to see that they both sat on the sofa together.
"Hmm," she said, as patterns of light appeared in front of her as she waved her wand over the two children. "Hmm," she repeated.
"Well?" asked Hermione, impatiently.
Her mother, still standing in the doorway, looked almost as impatient to hear the result as her daughter.
"Better than before," the mediwitch replied non-committally.
"Does that mean I'm not going to kill Hermione now?" asked Harry, a guilty tone in his voice.
Both Madam Pomfrey and Hermione looked sharply at him. "Harry, this isn't your fault," they both said, Madam Pomfrey softly and Hermione rather more forcefully.
Harry looked down. Mrs. Granger walked over to him and putting her hand under his chin, she lifted his face. "Harry. You've known nothing but abuse all your life. You need to give yourself time."
"But Hermione..."
"Will be fine," said Madam Pomfrey in a brisk, businesslike manner. "As will you, if you both continue to do as I say. Mrs. Granger, may I have a word?"
"Can't you say it in front of Hermione and Harry?"
Madam Pomfrey smiled. "It's not that. I just want to ask you something."
The two women went out of the room for a few minutes and then returned.
"I understand you have been sleeping together. Any more bad dreams?"
"No," said Hermione.
"And how's it going? Sleeping together, I mean."
Hermione blushed a little. Harry just looked puzzled and said, "Okay, I guess."
"Good. From now on, I want you to sleep together without your pyjamas."
Hermione gasped and squealed, "Naked?"
"No, you can wear underwear, but nothing more."
Seeing her daughter was still embarrassed at the thought, Mrs. Granger said, "it's no different to being at the beach in your swimsuit."
"Why?" Hermione asked.
"Skin to skin contact, the physical closeness, will help the bond."
Hermione still look worried. She noticed her mother didn't look entirely happy either.
"How long is this for?" Mrs. Granger asked suddenly. "I mean, as they grow older..."
Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Don't worry. It's only to help the bond become established, no longer than that."
Madam Pomfrey had gone and both children were still sitting where they had been. Hermione was nervous about that night. Harry was nervous that somehow he'd upset Hermione again.
Suddenly Hermione leapt up and ran to the television. "It's ten past five!" she cried. "I keep forgetting it."
"What?"
"Blue Peter."
Her answer meant nothing to Harry, but he watched the programme anyway, thinking it was more interesting that the rubbish Dudley usually watched.
Mr. Granger was home earlier that evening than he had been all week, and so he got out a board game for them all to play. It was a version of ludo called frustration, and after losing a few times, Harry could see why.
As bedtime approached, Hermione seemed obviously more nervous.
Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Mr. Granger said, "So, Hermione, what's this I hear about you doing a strip-tease for Harry?"
Hermione giggled slightly. "Da-ad. I'm not."
"Come on," said Mrs. Granger. "Let's find you something to wear."
But as Mrs. Granger and Hermione went to leave the room, Harry asked, "What's a strip-tease?"
Mr. Granger looked at his wife, who laughed. "Oh, no. You started it, David. Now you can explain it." She stood in the doorway, waiting.
"I thought you were going upstairs, Jean," Mr. Granger said irritably.
"Oh, no," she replied. "I want to hear this."
Mr. Granger sighed. "Well, Harry. A strip-tease is when a woman takes off her clothes for a man." Harry looked puzzled. "She does it slowly, to excite the man."
"Why would he want her to do that?" Harry asked innocently.
Mr. Granger laughed and ruffled Harry's hair. "Just you keep thinking like that, Harry, and we're gonna get along fine."
Taking pity on him, Mrs. Granger explained, "It's something you'll really only understand when you get older."
"Oh. Okay."
After they'd each bathed and got into bed, Harry and Hermione were obviously both uncomfortable, laying as far from each other as possible in the bed.
"I think the idea was more contact," Mrs. Granger reminded them.
"You turn that way," Hermione told Harry.
Harry turned onto his side facing away from her and Hermione moved close to him and put her arm around him.
"You okay?" she asked him.
"Yeah. Are you?"
"Yeah."
Neither of them had expected to be able to get to sleep quickly, but they were already asleep and were unaware of Hermione's parents when they peered in to see them.
Not sure what she was feeling, Mrs. Granger squeezed her husband's hand and they went back downstairs.
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Author's note...
IMPORTANT – To those who are worried, their sleeping together in underwear is NOT sexual and does NOT mean that you can expect them to be shagging at age 8 or anything like it.
Sorry for the delay, Real Life keeps getting in the way.
Thanks, as usual to my beta, Nachoman1, a.k.a. Ignacio Ramírez.
Please review,
Brian