Hey, geez guys, thanx 4 the reviews! It's amazing!

BTW, have any of ya'll seen THE HANGOVER? It's effing hysterical! Haha. Toodaloo motherfuckers!!!!! Haha

hermoine snape: for sum weird reason, ur review filled me with warm fuzzies! Haha. I've never gotten stars b4! Thanx!

all4edward: I actually had thought about him visiting for a little while. But they wouldn't see him. He would just be looking through a window just to look at them. Or he'd watch them sleep for a few minutes, happy that they were okay. But the guards were there and he didn't want to be seen. So there was no way. Plus, the more he stays away, the bigger the reunion's going to be, don't you think. It's the anticipation of being with each other after a year that makes reunions all the more exciting. That's my opinion.

Well, I'm still grieving over the death of Sharkbait. :( I'll miss him. I told my friend Lizz who gave him 2 me. She was like "Awww....how'd he die?" Haha. How do u answer that? I don't do fish autopsies! Haha. My mom was feeding a dead fish! Haha.

Yeah, horny!Hermione cracks me up! Haha.

And, yes, I think everyone would like to be smart at Arabella's age. I would be the happiest person on earth! Not girl! Person! As in...overall! Haha. I think her intelligence is going to let her see the love her parents have for each other. Like REALLY see it. I'm not saying she's gonna walk in on them. Fuck no! Haha. But like she's going to understand their love...nonsexually. Haha. U'll see. Haha. I hope i remember this. Haha.

Well, this chapter is called Closer. It's about well, getting closer to defeating Voldemort. Haha. DUH!

Well, here's ch. 13!

Chapter Thirteen

Closer

Harry woke up with a crick in his neck. He didn't get much sleep the night before as Voldemort planted nightmares into his head of his family being taken away from him. He wished there was a way to check up on them and make sure they were okay. He wished he could just slip away to apparate to the home and see their smiling faces for just a split second to make sure they were fine. However, he knew that was not possible. He had a mission to complete.

He was already two Horcruxes closer to defeating him.

Closer.

That one little word was becoming a small motivation within him to keep going on. He would tell himself that he was closer.

Closer to vanquishing.

Closer to the ending of murders by Voldemort.

Closer to the peace he wanted.

Closer to being with Hermione and Arabella.

Closer to being...free.

"You're getting there. You're almost there. Don't give up. Get back up. You're getting closer. Don't give up, Harry," a voice in his head that sounded like Hermione's would say. "Don't give up. Not when you're this close."

That gave him the strength, along with his newly formed family, to keep going on. He was one step closer.

However many Horcruxes he destroyed, he still could not defeat him without figuring out what the seventh one was. He pored over books. Mountains and mountains of books. But never found anything of what it could be.

He was getting a little desparate. He wanted to get this whole thing over and done with.

He sighed as he rolled out of his cot and began the day.

Arabella colored a new picture everyday. She saw that it cheered her mother up a bit. She had finally learned to draw shapes and figures. And soon became "Mummy's Little Artist". She drew suns, flowers, butterflies, bunny rabbits, trees, sunflowers, even. Anything that cheered her mother up, she drew. Hermione, very proud of her daughter's artwork, hung them up in the playroom for all to see.

One picture, in particular, Hermione just had to frame and put it in Arabella's room. It was of a heart. The heart consisted of three "cells" and were divided by lines. On the left "cell", was the one year old's drawing of Harry. It was pretty well-done, even for a four year old, Hermione could see. On the right was herself. And at the bottom, was Arabella. The little girl explained to her Mummy that the two top "cells", aka "Daddy" and "Mummy" created the bottom "cell", herself, out of love, which was represented by the heart.

Hermione shed a tear when she explained it. "Do you like it, Mummy!" Arabella asked nervously, folding her hands together behind her back and rocking on her heels, not looking at her mother, slightly a little embarrassed.

"No, angel, I love it." Arabella smiled and hugged Hermione and happily watched her frame it.

In a way, Arabella could see the love her mother felt for her father. She could see how delicately she held things that were his, that she was afraid she was going to break them. She noticed how she would sometimes sleep in his room, just to smell his scent. She noticed everything about her mother.

She felt as if she and her were getting closer everyday.

Closer in their bond.

The bond between mother and child never goes away and stays for eternity.

Closer.

She drew another picture of her mother and herself in front of the Manor. Hermione had asked where Daddy was and she pointed to a figure off to the side. "He's right here, Mummy." He was slightly shorter than the other two. Hermione realized that he was far away. "What's he doing?"

Arabella smiled. "He's coming home."

Hermione hugged her daughter again, loving this picture. This picture was also framed, but put in the entrance hall of the Manor, right by the door, for when Harry came home.

Hermione continued to teach Arabella basics in pre-school teachings. She taught her the alphabet. But not to cram information into her head, she taught her only three letters a day. It took eight days, with the last two letters on the ninth. Arabella had started to notice all of the letters around her. When she'd see a letter, she would call out what it was. "Dere's an 'A'!" Hermione would smile and nod saying, "Yes, there's an 'A'! An 'A' for..."

"Arabella!" she shouted happily.

Hermione asked Arabella one day if she could spell out her name. The young mother wrote her name on a blank sheet of paper to help her. She spelled it with no difficulty.

"A-R-A-B-E-L-L-A. Arabella!"

"Good job, angel!" She kissed her forehead.

Hermione thought soon she was going to be learning how to read and write. She was growing up fast and that made her sad. She wanted Arabella to be a toddler forever. She was her baby girl.

To help Arabella with her vocabulary, she read to her every night the same book. The Velveteen Rabbit. She figured that if she read the same book, Arabella would look at the words and add a few more of them to her vocabulary. She would sort of memorize what she said and begin to read. That's what she hoped would happen. Arabella's mind was developing quite quickly and she knew she could be reading in a few months.

One day in the middle of August, Arabella had gotten sick. It was a simple cold, but it was pretty bad. Hermione woke up at seven and went to the kitchen to see Arabella, like she did every morning. However, her daughter was not there.

Kit was cooking breakfast. "Kit, have you seen Arabella?"

The house elf looked up at her. "Oh, Hermione, good morning. No, I have not seen the Little Miss. She never came down for breakfast like she always does."

Hermione frowned and went back up the stairs to Arabella's room. She opened the door and saw the baby girl still sleeping. She smiled slightly, walking over to her and sitting in the edge of her bed. She put her hand on her forehead and smoothed back the brown curls like she always did. But this time she felt a light sheen of sweat and she was really warm. She furrowed her brow. Arabella woke up. "Mummy?" she called weakly. Her eyes were still shut, but she was awake.

"I'm here, Arabella. Mummy's right here," she softly kissed her sweaty forehead.

"Mummy, I don't feel good," she said.

"What's wrong? What hurts?"

"My froat. It itches. And I'm cold," she shivered.

Hermione felt her forehead and gasped. "You're pretty warm."

Arabella coughed a few times, forcing her to sit up. Hermione just rubbed her back smoothly, soothing her. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay, angel."

Hermione didn't know what to do. Arabella had never been sick before. She decided to Floo over to her parents' house to ask her mother what to do while Torry watched her. "Arabella, I'm going to Floo over to Grammy and Gramps' house to ask Grammy something. I'll be right back, I promise. Torry will watch you, okay?"

Arabella nodded. "Hurry back, Mummy." Hermione nodded back, smiling sadly, kissing her head. "Torry!" she called.

The house elf appeared. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Arabella is sick. I'm going to Floo to my parents' house to ask my mother what to do. I'll be right back. Can you watch her for a few minutes?" Torry nodded and Hermione hurriedly ran down the stairs to the fireplace to Floo.

Upon arriving, she shouted, "Mum!"

There was no answer. From anywhere. At first she thought the worst. But then she remembered they worked today. She began to cry. She'd have to take care of her ill daughter by memory from when her own mother took care of her.

She Flooed back and went back to Arabella's room. "Thank you, Torry," she said. Torry nodded and stood back as Hermione went to her daughter. "Okay, I guess it's just you and me."

Arabella noticed her Mummy's tears. "It's okay, Mummy. It's not bad," she lied a bit giving her a confident smile. It felt worse than that. Hermione smiled back and stroked her face. She was so brave and didn't want anyone to see her hurt. Just like Harry.

"You're so brave, you know that?" Hermione thought of what to do. She looked at Torry. "Torry, could you get some food from Kit that he cooked and bring it up here? And then get a cool washcloth and a thermometer?" Torry nodded and popped away.

Arabella coughed violently and laid back in the covers. Then, a sneeze came. And another. And another. And another.

The house elf reappeared with Kit, who had the tray of breakfast food, while Torry had a wet washcloth. Hermione took the washcloth and put it on Arabella's forehead and then put the thermometer in her mouth. The one year old shivered under the coolness of the cloth. Hermione just soothed her.

After two minutes, she pulled the thermometer out and read the results, widening her eyes. "One hundred and one! You're burning up!"

She began to feed her some sausage and eggs, getting food into her stomach. Arabella got full quick. Hermione remembered colds made you have a loss of appetite. She set the food aside and took her to take a bath. It was cool, like the cloth, to lower her temperature. But Hermione made it a little warmer at her shivering request. After, she dressed her up in fresh pajamas and brought her to her own room so that she could lay with her.

She set her on the king-sized bed and slipped in next to her. Arabella snuggled up into her side and Hermione sat up against the headboard, putting an arm around her, watching her sleep. Torry came in with a potion. "Here, ma'am. Give this to Little Miss. It's a Pepper-Up Potion." Hermione took it gratefully and woke Arabella up. "Baby girl, wake up."

"Huh?" she opened her eyes halfway and coughed violently again.

"Here, drink this." She poured the contents down her throat. She swallowed and coughed again and then fell back to sleep. Hermione heard Torry pop away once she gave her the empty bottle. She looked down at her daughter. Her miserable, miserable daughter. She took the washcloth from the bedside table and put it back on her forehead.

"Achoo!" came Arabella's sneeze.

"Bless you!" Hermione wiped her nose with a tissue.

She wanted her to get better. She hoped the potion worked.

At lunch, Hermione had Kit make some chicken noodle soup and she spoon-fed it to her. She smiled at the warmth. She was getting better. Much better. After her naps, she felt amazing. Hermione figured she should be better by that night.

And she soon was. Arabella was up and grinning again at five o'clock that night. She sneezed and coughed every now and then, but nothing serious.

Hermione put a movie on for her while she read a book. They were both sitting on the couch. Arabella was curled up in her blanket with Peter under her arm. Her legs were in Hermione's lap. Every now and then, Hermione couldn't resist the urge to tickle her little feet. She would giggle and kick. "Mummy! Stop!" Then she would return to her movie and Hermione would return to her book.

In September, Hermione took Arabella shopping again. Her clothes were getting too small for her. With two guards, they went to a nice baby store. They bought everything they thought was cute. Arabella was going to be the best-looking baby in town.

Hermione's birthday came up. She was now seventeen. Arabella made something for her. They were in Arabella's playroom, once again, coloring and now, painting. Arabella put her hands in the green paint and put her hands on a piece of paper, making handprints. "Here, Mummy! Happy Birfday!"

A tear leaked out of Hermione's eye as she saw her handprints with her favorite color. "Thank you, Arabella. Now don't touch anything. Mummy's going to clean your hands." She whipped out her wand and waved it, making the paint on her daughter's hands disappear.

One day, as Arabella was taking a nap, Hemione went search the house for something to do. She was tired of reading, something she had never felt before. But she felt like she needed to do something else. She stumbled upon a room she had never entered. She opened the door and gasped, smiling. It was a little dusty, but with a quick wave of her wand, it was clean.

It was a big room with wood flooring and a red, couch, which was the only furniture in the room, besides for one thing.

A black, grand piano stood in the middle of the room. She smiled. She had taken piano lessons when she was younger and loved to play. She had gotten pretty good and could play just about anything.

She walked over to it and sat on the bench. She delicately ran her hand across the keys, not pressing them, though. She felt their coolness. "This must have been Lily Potter's," she said to herself. She wondered if the late mother would let her play it. Deciding she would, she pressed all of the keys, closing her eyes, listening to them. And she began to play.

Pachelbel Canon in D was her favorite piece. She won an award for that piece in a recital. It had a beautiful melody to it that Hermione just loved. She had first heard it at a wedding she and her parents went to and it stuck in her head forever more. She wanted to learn how to play it, so her parents enroll her in piano lessons. Hermione was overjoyed when she finally learned to play it. She was only ten years old. One year before she went to Hogwarts.

She began to cry at how amazing the melody sounded. It made her forget her worries, her troubles, her flaws. It made her feel...lovely. When she got married, she wanted this to play when she walked down the aisle. She imagined it as she closed her eyes.

It wouldn't be a big wedding. There would probably be about twenty people there. Neville would be the groomsman, Luna her bridesmaid. Arabella would be next to Luna with a small bouquet. Her mother would be smiling at her from the first pew as her father walked her down the aisle. Harry would be standing next to the priest, smiling at her, waiting for her to reach them.

It would be a beautiful ceremony and the tune would be in her head the whole time as she gazed at Harry's gorgeous face.

She finished and began to cry, sobbing against the piano. She looked up when she heard a voice. "Dat was beautiful, Mummy."

Arabella stood at the door, smiling at the wonderful piece.

"Arabella, what are you doing up?" She wiped her tears away.

"I heard da music," she said simply walking over to her.

Hermione was confused. "You heard it? But your room is on the other side of the house."

"I know, but somehow I heard it. It was beautiful," she repeated.

Hermione smiled and blushed a bit. "Come here, sit. I'll play something for you." She hoisted her up on the seat next to her and she began to play "Fur Elise" by Beethoven. After that, she surprised Arabella with a familiar tune. It was Johannes Brahms' "Lullaby". She smiled at the familiarity. Sometimes Mummy would hum this to her to get her to sleep. She started to get a little drowsy herself, but then perked up when she stopped and played "Turkish March" by Mozart, which was a happy tune.

After that piece, Hermione sat Arabella in her lap. "You wanna play now?" She nodded and the young mother grabbed her daughter's hands. "Okay, I'll teach you the basics." She began to show her the keys and the letters that they were named. Arabella, of course, could not play anything well, but at least she didn't jam her fingers down on them. She would lightly touch each one, wanting to play like her mother.

"All in good time, my love. All in good time," Hermione said when she told her this.

From then on, Hermione would practice piano everyday for an hour at the most. Then the rest of her time was devoted to her daughter. Hermione wanted to give her a good birthday present as winter came by. She would give her other presents, too. But she wanted one that Arabella would absolutely love.

As December rolled by, she practiced Arabella's song everyday, making sure to sound-proof the room, so the little girl would not eavesdrop. Arabella was dying to know what her mother was doing. Hermione would just say, "Wait until your birthday." She would nod sadly.

Arabella's birthday rolled around and she was excited to know what her mother's surprise was. So, Hermione brought her into the piano room and sat her on the stool. She opened a sheet of music on the stand. Arabella could tell it was from the computer, but she couldn't tell what it was. She could see letters. "I-N-M-Y-A-R-M-S" is spelt. What did that mean?

Soon, Hermione began playing and Arabella gasped, recognizing the tune. It was her lullaby! Her mother printed out the sheet music for the song and practiced playing it for her. Her song!

She smiled-no, she beamed-as she hummed along, making Hermione grin as well. This was the best birthday ever!

After she played it, she replayed it singing the lyrics with it this time.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Arabella did not ask for her to do this. She wanted to do it. She sang the words making a point. She was always going to be there for her. No matter what. She was going to be safe always in her arms. And in Daddy's as well. She felt no matter how many times she sang and played it, it was not enough.

"Mummy, I know you keep playing it and singing it and I enjoy it, but why do you keep playing it?" she asked curiously.

Hermione sighed and stopped playing, looking at her. "Because I feel that when I play, I'm telling you that you are going to be safe in my arms. Always. And no matter how many times I play, I feel like it's not enough. I want you to know, Arabella. I want you to know that you're safe in my arms and I won't let anything happen to you." A tear rolled down her cheek and she turned her head away.

Arabella looked seriously at her, sad that her mother felt that way. She put her tiny hand on her cheek and turned it back to make her look at her. Hermione gazed upon her emerald-green eyes. Her father's.

"I already know, Mummy. You play once and I know. I know you'll keep me safe. And I'll keep you safe, too, Mummy." She crawled into her mother's arms hugging her tight. Hermione sobbed at her daughter's words.

She was just like her Daddy.

Harry, Remus, and Tonks were sitting around the table eating their dinner and talking. "Today's Arabella's second birthday," Harry said with a smile staring off into space.

The other two looked at each other and then at him, smiling as well. "I wonder what she and Hermione are doing..."

The couple had nothing to say to that. After a few minutes, Remus said, "We still need to figure out what the seventh Horcrux is." The other two nodded.

Harry pulled his book on Horcruxes closer to him so he could read it while he ate. He felt a prick on his head, making him wince a bit. Then something caught his eye.

There it was. In black and white.

"Horcruxes are usually marked. A special mark that is very unique. They can take on weird shapes most times." He gasped and felt his forehead. His scar. His mark. A scream came to his ears. It was his mother's before she died. The night she died, he was given the scar. His mark. They were now one more step closer. He widened his eyes as he figured out the seventh Horcrux.

"It's me."

TBC...

Well, there's ch. 13. I hoped you liked it. Kinda short I know. But still sweet.

I really wanted Hermione to be a pianist. I've been thinking about that for a while. I used to play the piano and the cello. Don't know how to play either anymore though. Haha. It was when I was younger. My favorite piece of classical music of all time is Pachelbel's Canon in D. It's so pretty. I used to play a bit of it on the cello. The piano version of it I think is better, though, I love both.

I don't know why I had Arabella get sick. I thought it would be cute because Hermione would be kinda frantic because she didn't know what to do. I think I got a little bit of that in there.

Anyway, I really like Arabella's line "You play once and I know." I thought that was one of the best lines I've ever written. She needs to hear her play it and sing it once for her to know that she's going to be safe in her arms. She doesn't need for her to do it over and over again.

Anyway, pleez review!

DREWHHR

Update (1-13-10): I changed Arabella's sick temperature. Thanx to Arkenstone007. 106 is just a little too high. Haha.