Granger, we need to talk
CHAPTER 31
Same old tired disclaimers. JK Rowling and Other own all recognizable characters.
I make no money off this, and as far as I know, no fame either.
Bummer.
"Why did no one bring this up earlier?"
On Platform 9 ¾:
"Lord Potter-Black, we need to talk. There is a problem."
Harry looked at the two Black Sisters.
"The Manor?" he questioned.
They both nodded and two minutes later, the four of them were having soot removed from their clothes by Tilitsy in the Potter Manor floo room.
Without preamble, Harry stalked into his Study and sat behind his desk. The three women arranged themselves in the armchair arc across the front of the desk just as Tilitsy brought tea.
As soon as the amenities were complete, Harry uncharacteristically brusquely spoke. "What is the problem?"
Andromeda and Narcissa looked at each other and silently communicated. They then turned back to Harry.
Andromeda was the one who adopted lecture mode and began. "Today's story about the Ball at Hogwarts mentioned that Lord Neville Longbottom was in attendance with two witches, both of whom are purported to be his girlfriend's, with rampant speculation that he wanted them for his wives," stated Andromeda. "Both, I might add are PureBlood witches, and if the Lovegood Heiress wants to keep her Family name active, she would be ideal for a Continuation Contract marriage."
Here she paused.
"Keep going," Harry commanded.
"After seeing the pictures of you at the Ball, several Wizengamot members have spent the day talking with others, and like a sudden blizzard, everyone is now talking about how you attended with someone not only Mug . . Mundane Born, but, someone not your girlfriend or your betrothed.
She paused, gathering herself again. "Today, the Daily Prophet has essentially shown you to be fair game, and wide open to be pursued by every woman in Britannia."
She actually gave a small smirk. "I understand your mail checking room at Gringotts has had a ten-fold increase in marriage contract offers today. And the indignity of finding lacey knickers enclosed in many letters has upset the goblins greatly."
The smirk grew. After all, goblins were not the only species that enjoyed `sticking it to' someone else.
Narcissa broke in, "None the less, the bigger problem is that some meddling fool who probably thinks he is the smartest man in the Wizengamot is talking about reviving the Ancient and Noble House Accommodation Act of 1354."
At her Lord's obviously puzzled look, Narcissa explained. "Due to the Black Death Plague that killed almost fifty percent of the wizarding population in 1348 to 1350, many Houses lost all their possible male heirs. Some lineages passed to appropriate cadet lines but others narrowed down to one person. When the waves of death had passed and inheritors were sorted out, a several of the surviving Lords had three or more Lordships to their name. Several greedy Lords tried to amass the Wizengamot votes of all the Houses that had fallen to them and consolidate all those votes under themselves and their Primary House. Their goal was to dominate the Wizengamot."
She continued on, "They were narrowly defeated, but something still needed to be done if several proud Houses and lineages were to be saved."
Hermione stirred to her side enough to draw Narcissa's attention.
With a sigh she looked at Hermione as she kept speaking. "You are on the wrong side of the culture divide to truly understand how bone deep in our psyche Old Family's preservation of a House runs. I have tried this year to give you an awareness of this driving force within our culture, but you will never really feel it. Understand it, perhaps. Feel it in your bones? I doubt it."
"To continue, the Act was written to require a Head of House to have a wife for every House he was Head of, and the House Rights of Progeniture, would govern how the children of each marriage would inherit. In short, the Lord became a guardian for the Heirs to the Houses he had inherited. "
Hermione stirred again.
Throwing a quick glance at the girl, Narcissa took a deep breath before continuing. "And the union had to produce an Heir or Heiress within five years or the couple would be divorced and the Head would have to remarry."
It was quiet in the study. The only sound was the ticking from the large mantle clock over the fireplace.
Strangely, or perhaps not strangely, both Harry and Hermione were thinking the same thing. "Where was all this reverence for House preservation when Tommy and the supposed reverential PureBlood Death Nibblers were killing off whole family's? What was that number? Thirty-some Houses destroyed in the two wars? And that was before we won."
All those hours of study under Narcissa through the summer and fall showed as Harry actually had a clue as to what Narcissa was talking about. His chair spun slightly from side to side as he pondered what he had been told.
He almost smiled when his gaze passed over Hermione and he realized she was quivering so hard she looked about to combust.
Harry stilled and sat even more upright and doing his best to look commanding.
"Very well. Madam Tonks and Madam Black, unless you have something to add, you may as well return to Grimmauld Place, or the 'Mot, and have your sources keep their ears open. We have a grace day tomorrow before the Yule Wizengamot meeting on Monday. If some news is urgent, we can meet tomorrow. If not, we will plan on gathering early Monday at the Ministry and make plans then."
"Oh, and as a last thought, why has my inheriting two very powerful Lordships not triggered this sentiment before?"
Both sisters' eyes widen a bit. They were impressed with how their Lord had handled the situation. No panic, no ranting or raving. He did not even seem upset, and had brought up a point neither had considered.
It was Narcissa who answered his last question. "In one of the very few smart moves by the Wizengamot ever, they set the law to expire twenty years after passage unless extended by a two-thirds vote of the Wizengamot. You are the first double Lordship holder in almost three hundred years. And the Lord affected had two Heirs. He simply proved his second son was qualified by blood to head the second House."
"No one except Heads attempting to marry off a daughter or granddaughter off to you, or your political enemies were concerned about your Lordships. The worst that could have happened was one of your Lordships would have had to have a female Heiress if your wife did not produce enough sons."
Harry caught the almost-too-quick-to-be-seen flicker of her eyes towards Hermione.
"If only you knew," Harry thought.
"You believe the PureBloood's of today are overly prideful. Back then they were complete autocrats. Their word was law, and being cast out of a family, usually crippled and destitute, was the least punishment for rebelliousness. Therefore, they were very happy to see the law expire. After all, it was a check upon their absolute power."
Asking Hermione to be still with a small hand gesture, Harry escorted his guests to the floo and watched as they departed before returning to Hermione.
"Food first, Hermione," he said. "Research needs fuel or you will not be at your best."
"Tilitsy. Dinner for two at the kitchen table please," Harry spoke into thin air as he escorted the somewhat calmer Hermione towards the kitchen.
When the two arrived at the kitchen, they were greeted with a laden table of pasta dishes. Harry had cooked an occasional pasta dish for the Dursley's, but the spaghetti and sauce was the only food he recognized.
"Ooh," exclaimed Hermione. "Italian food. Thank you, Tilitsy. These are my favorites. Where did you learn to cook Italian food?"
"Lady Lily liked Italian so's I learned," replied Tilitsy.
Harry handed Hermione into her chair and pushed her up to the table before seating himself.
Eyeing the food, Harry gave a wry chuckle. As Hermione stopped in the midst of dishing what looked like a tomato-y covered chicken breast with melted cheese on to her plate and looked at him. He waved her off and asked her what food was on the table.
"Even MY elf is pushing us together for all she is worth," he thought.
The meal passed in pleasant company. Hermione's fervor in explaining what the dishes were was amusing to Harry. In spite of all the time they had spent together, her passion for French and Italian cuisine had not discussed in detail before. His praise of the taste and texture of the Chicken Parmesan, the Spinach and Cheese Stuffed Manicotti and the Spaghetti with Meat Sauce had her humming with happiness, and Tilitsy bouncing with joy.
Hermione had known for years Harry had not been given normal experiences that she and others took for granted, so when she found something he liked, she relished the feeling of accomplishment.
Dinner was soon over and Harry was noticing that Hermione was starting to look uncomfortable. He figured he knew the cause. During his kissing of her on the train, his memory of their kissing each other senseless after the Ball had returned.
So now he had kissed, or been kissed twice, by Hermione Jean Granger. And he had thoroughly enjoyed each time. However, Snuggle Witch time with her during the summer had led him to the insight that just as he had a deep-seated fear of intimacy abused into him, and feared losing everyone he had ever loved ground into him over seven years at Hogwarts, she had been scarred by the schoolyard taunts about her appearance and her intelligence.
The casual cruelty of children upon the "beaver-toothed, brillo haired, too-smart-for-her-own-good bookworm" had burrowed deep into her psyche over the years. Especially her during young, formative years when the bad things that happen can outweigh the good in a child's mind. Wanting to be accepted is the most common feeling of the human race.
One of them was going to have to break through the barriers each had surrounded themselves with. His talks with his Snuggle Witches during the last six months meant his barriers had weakened, but after the second kiss on the Express, Harry had decided that Hermione would not kiss him that way if she did not love him.
He had poured all his feelings and soul into both kisses, and felt that she had returned the same.
Deciding almost instinctively on a course of action, Harry cleared his throat causing Hermione to jump in her seat. Snogging her first, or letting her do research first, that was the question.
Research was the answer. That was in Hermione's comfort zone, and probably right now, snogging, though pleasant fun, was not. What she was thinking was so obvious it was almost visible on her face. "I kissed Harry! And he kissed me back! Does that mean he loves me? Or what?"
Since he was feeling the same questions about their kiss, he figured those questions were starting to upset her. An unsettled Hermione because she did not know the answers, was a bad companion Hermione. Some good, old fashioned research in the Potter Library would probably do her a world of good.
"Hermione, love, why don't you go to the library and look up what Aunt Andi and Cissy were talking about?"
Hermione eagerly nodded her head and started to stride out of the kitchen.
"Hermione?" Harry uttered. "I will come for you after three hours. I do not want to see you wearing yourself out over this. We have several competent friends who will help us with possible problems."
She paused in her flight, nodded at Harry and briskly left, trying her hardest not to look like she was fleeing.
Harry chuckled silently to himself and left for his study. The Sister's had left some routine Wizengamot parchment work that he had to pay attention to. Besides, he was going to have to re-compose himself as the strain of his acting suave and in control, practically had him shaking in reaction.
Hermione
"Oh my God, oh Merlin, oh Morgana! I thought we would have some private time to talk about what happened on the train! What do I do if Harry needs two wives? What if they need to be PureBlood? What if . . ."
Thoughts of possible disaster followed Hermione into the library where she went up to the pedestal. There was a large but thin, Index of Library Contents book, a quill and an inkpot. Opening the book, she dipped the quill into the provided Ever Full inkpot and wrote on the page that she wanted any "Books on Wizard Marriages" and "Books on the Ancient and Noble House Accommodation Act of 1354".
After laying down the quill and capping the inkpot, Hermione started walking up and down the rows of books. Occasionally, a book would glow. A red glow meant the book was a poor fit of the Index request, but had some information. Yellow was mediocre results, and blue to purple meant the book was chock full of the information requested.
With Harry's time limit hanging over her, she gathered only four books. She gathered one purple book, two blue books and a one green glowing book in her arms as she headed for her favorite reading spot by the fireplace. One of these days she would have to ask Harry why the reading lighting seemed so particularly easy on her eyes at this spot.
If an independent observer had found Hermione two and a half hours later, surrounded by piles of open books, and dozens of parchment pieces covered with notations, they could not have been faulted for thinking Hermione was deep into her quest for knowledge. What they would not have known, was she had given up trying to concentrate on her search ten minutes ago. And that inability to work was one of the factors fueling her current feeling of frustration.
She had been so close last night. If the stress over Harry getting injured had nor kept her in the infirmary, she would have spent the night screaming into her pillow at how unfair it all was.
Harry and her had crossed that line they had approached but never crossed before. She knew Harry had backed away from having any romantic feelings for her because he had believed that Ron had wanted her and had consciously backed away from even thinking about her in any way except as a friend.
Well, Ron and her had actually tried, but in spite of thinking there should be, there was no spark. No feeling that their attempting to create passion brought them closer together.
Deep down, in her bones, Hermione knew part of the problem had been that Harry was her true friend. Ron was the bloke she was friendly with because he was a friend of Harry's.
So, last night had been the culmination of months of subtlety, blatancy, chance, skillful plotting, sex kitten acting and not changing how she interacted with Harry.
In other words, she had plotted the campaign, watched it collapse in wreckage a few times, yet with some help from Daphne, resurrected it a few times. However, indications were she was finally on the doorstep of success.
So, why was she sitting here, unable to perform any work, her mind skittering off on unimportant tangents. Her fears that Harry would reject her in the next few minutes running rampant. And the topic her mind kept returning to, before running away from it with its tail between its legs, was that Harry and her were alone in the Manor.
She was alternately flushing and paling as her mind insisted upon throwing up sexy scenarios of what could happen later.
They had been alone before. They had slept in the same bed before. However, they had not kissed, then snogged before. And she had not felt his blatant arousal pressed against her belly before.
In the churning cauldron of her mind, she was actually proud that she had caused that reaction. And right on the tail of that thought was the question of how far down the road of sex did she want to go now?
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Harry was standing about fifteen feet in back of Hermione. He really could not see much except the book and parchment covered table and her hair. Due to her lack of reading or note taking he was willing to bet she was worrying her lower lip so hard it should be raw.
Unable to resist, he loudly cleared his throat, which as intended, had Hermione levitating out of her chair and spinning to face him.
Hiding his smirk, he walked up to her.
"Your time is up. We both had a rough time last night and no nap on the train. As important as your work is, it will wait until tomorrow."
He waited while she tidied her parchment and wand swish sent the books back to their shelves. As she nervously finished, he gently took her hand.
"While you were researching, a letter arrived inviting us to a Yule Celebration at the Greengrass' house. As much as I would like to go, I need to ask if you want to go, and then ask The Sisters if it will be a good or bad idea politically. So, want to go with me and prance around naked in the snow?"
The effect was as he had hoped. She stood frozen with her jaw agape and her eyes wide. Unable to keep a straight face after a few seconds, he started laughing while waving his forefinger at her. "Gotcha!"
Jaws snapping shut and eyes narrowing to slits, Hermione stepped forward and swung to smack him on the arm. Harry instinctively flinched. He tried to stop himself, but the reflex was too ingrained.
Hermione's hand immediately stopped before she struck him. Tears started welling in her eyes and she turned away from him, shoulders hunching. (1)
Harry strode forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Sh-sh-sh-sh. Don't cry, love. It's alright. How many times in the school have we seen a girl smack a boy's arm for being a prat or for flirting with him? It could be either. What you did was normal behavior and I am the one who is damaged."
He stood loosely holding her against him, inhaling the scent of her hair.
"Come," he said. With him holding her hand they headed up the main stairs to the third-floor family area.
Stopping in the hallway between their rooms, Harry turned to Hermione and hugged her to him. "It has been a long day after a bad night. All I want to do is go to sleep. But I would like to wake up with you in my arms. P...Please?"
Harry shut up at that point. His nerve had deserted him and he would become an embarrassed stuttering mess if he tried to say more.
Hermione leaned back in his arms and peered into his eyes. She must have seen something she wanted in there as she nodded and said, "Of course Harry. Give me ten minutes to get ready."
They separated, each going through their own room's doorway.
After washing up, brushing his teeth and changing into flannel pajama pants and t-shirt, Harry scooted into bed the middle of the large bed. Propping himself to sit against the headboard, he waited for HER. The one during the middle of their snog on the train, that he had decided he wanted to snog for the rest of his life.
Hermione hesitantly walked into Harry's room and Harry's eyes grew large. He could only see two clothing items. A pair of kitten heeled slippers to protect against the cold stone floors, and his old third-year practice Quidditch shirt. Occasionally he had vaguely wondered what had happened to it.
Colored red and gold with long sleeves, he knew without looking it had POTTER and a large numeral 7 on the back. The best part from his point of view was that it only fell to mid-thigh, giving him a long look at what he considered her best feature. Her long, beautifully shaped legs.
And that the shirt was form-fitting across her chest was a wonderful feature also.
Wordlessly he flipped back the covers on his left side in clear invitation for her to join him there. She kicked off her slippers at the side of the bed, put her wand on the side table, and slid in next to Harry
Not sure what to do, she laid on her side looking at him wide-eyed. After returning her gaze, Harry gently placed his hand on her cheek and leaning in slowly, gave her a gentle kiss, enjoying her soft lops and minty taste.
Finishing the kiss, he rolled onto his right side and skootched back until he was against her. Reaching back, he brought her arm over him and clasped it to his chest.
In spite of the excitement of the day and the feelings each was having trouble expressing for the other, both teens were asleep in five minutes.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
The grey light seeping around the heavy curtains of his bedroom was the first thing Harry was aware of. Second was the warm feeling of someone very soft sprawled along his left side. Mass of bushy brown hair on his chest, check. Soft breast pressed into his ribcage, check. Long, smooth leg wrapped around his left leg, check. All was as it should be.
And for a moment Harry reveled in the thought that this was how he wanted to wake up for the rest of his life.
"And where in Hades did the thought that Daphne was missing from my right side come from?"
His change in breathing rhythm must have worked its way into Hermione's brain. She started wakening by nuzzling his chest and slowly stretching and rubbing against him. He could tell the exact moment she realized where she was and what she was doing. She froze prompting a grumbling chuckle from Harry.
"Morning sleepy one," he spoke very quietly.
"Good morning, Harry," she returned.
Hermione suddenly rolled over and snatched her wand off the bedside table. She quickly applied a breath freshening charm to herself then Harry before tucking her wand under her pillow.
"There," she said quietly. Harry knew what was expected of him next.
Slowly he leaned in to her and pressed a firm boyfriend-girlfriend kiss on her willing lips. The kiss was progressing nicely when Harry heard and felt the time alarm from his wand. He tried to ignore it, but its distraction finally forced him to abandon the kiss.
"Come on, laz-a-bed," he groaned. "We have business to take care of."
Hermione looked at him in some confusion.
"We have things to do this morning that should not be postponed. First, we need to talk to Narcissa or Andi about the Greengrass invitation. Then we need to know if I should start panicking about this marriage thing. Do I have to start twisting arms to kill this Act talk? Or do we have enough political pull to just bury it quietly?"
"And over breakfast, you can tell me what you found in the library." He finished off the last with exaggerated eyebrow lifting and lopsided smile."
Harry rolled himself over Hermione without landing on her. He started for his bathroom, but after a few steps he turned and said, "Love your night shirt. Is it comfy?" And with a smirk he entered the bathroom and closed the door.
The morning passed quickly. Andromeda answered Harry's floo call and told him that accepting the Greengrass invitation to their Yule celebration would be a good idea. So, Harry sat and wrote a formal reply that Hermione checked over, and floo delivered it to the Greenfields, the Greengrass manor house, handing the letter to an elf through the floo fire.
After breakfast, Hermione retreated back to the library. Harry retreated, in a dignified manner of course, to his study. By lunch, Harry had worked up enough nerve.
Retrieving her from the library, he walked her back to the kitchen. There, over a rich, creamy seafood chowder and crusty fresh bread, Harry nervously cleared his throat. At the quizzical look from Hermione across the table, Harry started his stumbling request.
"I've been told that after three dates, a girl wants to ahh . . know where she stands with a bloke. That is when it is time to drop back to just being friendly or to ask for the girl to be my . . er, his ah, girlfriend."
He could see that Hermione had become very still, so he rushed on.
"Um, Hermione, will you consider being my girlfriend?"
With seeming total control, Hermione stood and walked around the table to stand next to a rising Harry.
From a distance of six inches, she stared at him and quietly said, "Why yes Harry, I will be your girlfriend."
Then she closed the distance, wrapped her arms around his head and proceeded to kiss his brain into meltdown.
Harry was attempting to find out if pressing hard against your girlfriend (GIRLFRIEND! SHE SAID YES! SHE'S MY GIRLFRIEND!) could just squeeze the trapped clothes out of the way. He actually did not care if the idea would work, he just wanted to try.
Some unknowable time later, after they had run out of air several times, and discovered the joys of neck and ear kissing and nibbling, he had reached the point of having wandered and rubbed his hands over all her accessible clothed areas. He was now trying to create some space between them so wanting-to-roam hands would have some virgin territory to explore.
It took a while before roar of the floo from across the great entryway garnered his attention. He could hear voices, but not the words. He could also sense that Tilitsy wanted to talk to him.
"Yes, Tilitsy?" he said resting his forehead against Hermione's, but kept his eyes open, gazing into one of his favorite things, Hermione's lovely dark-gold-flecked chocolate brown eyes.
"Master Harry, there is a Miss Daphne Greengrass in the floo. She wishes to see you. She says it is urgent."
Harry sighed and closed his eyes while cursing fate. All he wanted to do was spend time snogging Hermione and every Merlin bedamned time he tried, some wanker, Wait, Daphne's not a wanker, she's a , a . . ahhh, sod it!
With a groan of frustration, he told Tilitsy to allow Miss Greengrass access and to show her to the visitor parlour.
The `I've been snogged 'til I can't see straight' haze suddenly cleared from Hermione's eyes.
"Daphne's here?" she inquired. "What does she want?"
"I do not know, Love. Let's go find out."
Holding hands, the pair headed across the entryway to the parlour where they found Daphne.
Harry found it interesting that when she stood up, she was wearing what amounted to almost their school uniform. White shirt, heavy dark green V-neck jumper with white trim at the neck and wrists, medium grey tartan patterned wool skirt with heavy dark grey patterned tights. Her blonde hair was gathered in a loose bun.
"Lord Potter-Black, I thank you for your willingness to allow me into your home," she said. The interesting thing that both Harry and Hermione picked up on was she was trying to be in full Ice Queen mode, but the cracks in the façade were noticeable.
Harry merely gestured for her to return to her chair and as soon as everyone was seated, tea appeared and the familiarity of performing the rituals gave Harry and Hermione emotions a chance to prepare for whatever Daphne wanted.
One hard look at Hermione's face had Daphne struggling to suppress a smirk. The blush evident on her cheeks and the swollen lips told tales of their own.
Daphne tossed the conversational quaffle in the air.
"Since I know you were raised Mundane, I volunteered to visit and inform you that you should dress for being outdoors tomorrow night. There will be a large bonfire to celebrate the lengthening of the coming days, the return of light to the world. If you could bring a sacrifice of wine, bread and some greenery it will bring you closer to the experience that the rituals are meant for."
Harry nodded at her. "I shall ask our gardener if we have something proper available."
Taking a steadying breath, she straightened. "I also came to inform you, or find out if you know about, a plot that is forming within the Wizengamot against you and Lord Longbottom. It involves . . "
"YOU!" The scream exploded from Hermione. As Harry turned in shock, the teacup she had been holding in her hand crashed into flinders on the floor. As she pushed herself off her chair, her wand appeared in her hand.
"Heiress Greengrass," she spoke bitingly. "I now see this has been your endgame since the beginning. Morgana, I feel incredibly stupid for not having seen through you before."
A/N:
Golly Gee Willikers. Only took me thirty-one chapters to get them together.
One: To me, it is a jarring moment that can totally ruin a scene for me, when Hermione,
as a completely natural person, swats Harry on his arm, and everyone tee-hee's.
Teenagers just being teenagers.
In my little universe, Harry sees a blow coming, with his history, he will either avoid it or at least flinch.
There was supposed to be a several chapters set up with Harry's Mind Healer working on breaking
down his intimacy barriers. A failure to plan, is a plan to fail. Blew that plot point.
Before I started on this voyage, I never would have believed I could write 4,000 words of angst
in a chapter. Dear God, my brain is dribbling out of my ears.
I want to thank everyone who has Favorited/Followed this story. You 300+ people are often the only reason I sit down and try to keep my post rate at a chapter per month or so.
Oh, lastly, because I was asked. I try for roughly 5,000 words per chapter.
