First off, thank you to NightWing2013 for making me realize that all of my lines separating subsections to the chapters didn't transfer over from my google docs! Sorry about that confusion, and I went back to fix the other chapters and will try to remember to add them in in the future.

*This is a direct continuation from the last chapter*

The mist swirled in the dark kitchen and Harry felt himself flying up off the floor at Grimmauld Place. He felt his spine straighten automatically and McGonagall's office came into view. Gripping the solid wood of her desk, he stopped the world from swaying after the disorienting experience of being thrown out of a pensieve and having too much information to process at once.

Finally, Harry understood what Dumbledore meant all those years ago when he mentioned having too many thoughts in your head.

-You told me not to pursue it!-

-She asked me out-

-They're just kids!-

-I think we had our first civilized conversation-

He sunk into the chair lined up behind him and shut his eyes in an effort to concentrate his churning thoughts. The phrases bounced around the room and within his skull making his ears ring loudly.

-We're not going anywhere, Moony-

-Just grow up a little-

Lily. James. Harry focused on them- her adoring smile and his love-sick grin -and suddenly the other memories faded into the background. Sirius was right! Harry couldn't help himself but think. She didn't really hate him. She asked him out! They really did love each other. The image of them cradling a young Harry tugged purposefully at the corners of his mouth. And they had loved him.

His chest filled with warmth and his whole body lightened. He let out a giddy laugh into the otherwise quiet office and the corners of his eyes began to sting. Tears of joy, he realized. Certainly a rarity for him. His bottom lip quivered with unrestrained emotion and his hands began to shake against his thighs.

Suddenly his parents didn't seem like figments of his imagination. They weren't just a myth that everyone seemed to know or a few lines in a history book. They were real people. They had loved and cried. They found friends and made a family. They fought and struggled for what was right. They had lived. And they were good people.

They were good people.

James was not just a bully, like Snape had said. James had been the first to agree to give up his dreams for the Order of the Phoenix. James protected and stood by his friends, even if the world was against them. James Potter was not just an arrogant nuisance, but a good man.

And Lily. She was not just the innocent, helpless girl that Snape seemed to think she was. Lily did what was right and fought for what was right. She loved people unconditionally. She was not weak or gullible, but a kind soul who believed the best in people.

And Sirius said that he is the best of them.

I am the best of them, he repeated.

And I do look just like James, he thought. Except for Lily's eyes. Somehow, the comment that had been made too many times to count actually meant something. He resembled his father. The man who would do anything for his friends and family. He has Lily's eyes that shone with compassion, but could flare with righteous anger to defend a better world.

I am the best of them, he thought again. His cheeks hurt from smiling for so long, but he couldn't seem to let it slip. I am the best of them. And he began to believe it.

"I'm kind of nervous, 'Mione," Ron called into the bathroom. He sifted through their trunk for a decent muggle shirt that wasn't completely wrinkled by his poor folding skills.

"Me too," Hermione admitted while struggling to pull a comb through her hair.

"You're supposed to say don't worry and that they'll love me!" He dropped his hands to his side and the shirt he was examining fell with them.

"I don't think anything about this 'meeting the parents' is traditional, Ron."

"True. Wait, why are you nervous? You already talked to them twice since we've been here." He pulled off the wrinkled shirt he had on and pulled on the other over his head.

"And you've already met them so you shouldn't be nervous either," she retorted through the open door.

"Yeah, but I met them when I was a twelve-year-old midget and I didn't say anything when we went to reverse their memories so I practically have to start all over again."

"Not all over again. I did mention you quite a bit in my letters home and we talked about you yesterday."

"Well that's comforting," he rolled his eyes, not that she could see, but his voice was dripping in sarcasm which made the intended point obvious.

"All good things," she clarified.

"Oh sure. Even in third year when we were fighting? Or when we fought over Lavender in sixth year?"

"Okay, mostly good things." Hermione finally walked out of the bathroom with a small smile. "You'll be great and they're going to love you." She stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

"Does this look okay?" Ron held his arms out with his palms facing forward and was eying his own choice of clothing carefully. He wore a blue collared shirt with gray jeans and a black jacket.

"You look great, Ron." His arms dropped to his sides and turned a bright red.

"So do you," he muttered as he stepped closer to her. She wore jeans and a plain white sweater. She had even managed to tie a pink scarf around her half-ponytail that pulled the majority of her stray hair out of her face. Hermione rose on her toes again and wrapped her arms around Ron's neck and kissed him passionately. Ron bent down slightly, grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him. When they separated, neither dropped their gaze, but both blushed a fierce pink.

"We should probably get going," Hermione said at last. She picked up her purse, slung it over her shoulder, and headed for the door.

"Aren't we apparating?" Ron asked, shoving his wand into the pocket of his jacket.

"I thought it would be best if we walked, actually. They're still quite apprehensive of magic so the more normal we act, the better."

He shrugged, but followed her out the door. "All right."

"And, they'll probably ask for our wands before they let us come in," she whispered in the hotel hallway.

"All right." He was careful to keep his voice even to hide the small burst of panic that erupted in his stomach from the thought of voluntarily handing over his wand so that it was not only out of reach, but out of sight. He quelled the panic with a few deep breaths and knew that he would hand over his wand or anything else if it meant Hermione's happiness.

The sound of heels clicking against stone announced someone drawing closer, pulling Harry away from the past and back to reality. The door squeaked open behind Harry and he instinctively reached under his jacket for his wand, but relaxed when he saw McGonagall entering the room.

"Oh, Harry. You're done then?" she asked as she approached her desk.

"Yeah." His cheeks were still flush with pleasure and she couldn't help but smile while she set her parchment neatly in the corner of her desk.

"And how was it?"

"Brilliant." He stood from his chair and drew his wand to fish out the strand of memories and place it carefully back in the vial. McGonagall pointed her own wand at the stone bowl and levitated it back into its cupboard and the doors around it snapped shut.

Tactfully, she decided not to press for details of the private memories. "And how are things without your two partners in crime?" she asked instead.

"I'm fi-" His words died in his throat. Hermione's constant reminders to not lie about how he was doing blocked his automatic response. With a sigh, he confessed "I've been better, I suppose."

Her eyes widened at the honesty. "Well, I'm not surprised. The three of you have been together nonstop for over a year now. Although, most other people would grow tired of seeing the same people for months on end."

"They're my family," he mumbled with a shrug. She sighed, removed her drooping pointed hat, and set it on top of the stack of parchment.

"I try so hard not to compare you to your parents, but when you say things like that, it's nearly impossible." Harry looked away from his hands and met her gaze. "They were each other's family too, the five of them." She smiled wistfully and pulled away from his green eyes. Instead, she reached to one side of the desk and uncovered a tin where she pulled out a biscuit. Harry grabbed a shortbread automatically before she even had the chance to offer. One eyebrow raised and her lips formed a thin line.

"You're getting far too comfortable here, Harry." He swallowed his shortbread and smiled with only a trace of guilt.

"It's your fault for saying I could come at any time, Minnie."

"I suppose I really should have chosen my words more carefully." Harry leaned forward and took another shortbread.

"I have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"What happened with the griffin outside your office? I didn't know the password, but it just let me in after asking for my name and the last time I was here. It doesn't seem very secure. Then again, you could always guess Dumbledore's password," he mused. While waiting for a response, he shoved the second half of the biscuit into his mouth.

"When I fixed it, I may have added a few extra spells to it so now it can recognize certain people and let them in even if they don't have the password. But, for your future knowledge, the password is currently Isla Haddow."

"Isla Haddow?" He asked curiously while resisting the temptation to take another biscuit.

"Yes. She's a famous Scottish Quidditch player, Potter." Suddenly, her strict tone returned. Quidditch always was a serious topic, after all.

"Oh, so are all of your passwords going to be Quidditch players?"

"I don't intend on having a theme, at the moment. Although I do think I'll change it every month like Dumbledore always did. And professors here always know the password, so you'll be notified whenever I change it." He didn't bother to ask how he would be notified. He figured he would find out in about a month anyways. "And I do hope that I don't regret you knowing the password."

Harry smirked in spite of himself and responded, "Why would you ever regret such a thing, Minnie?"

Dinner went relatively smoothly. Hermione was right in that they did hand over their wands before being granted entrance into the one-story house. There was no arguing or shouting or tears, only civilized conversation. Yet, the conversation was decidedly forced and overly polite with all concerned parties paying far too much attention to their every word and movement for a family meal.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger got to know Ron as their only child's boyfriend with a series of questions throughout the dinner and he responded kindly, but lacked his usual flare of sarcastic wit. They all wore smiles and exchanged pleasantries, but there were no hugs, no handshakes, no pats on the back. The whole affair was rather like meeting work colleagues for the first time outside of the office or the uncomfortable coincidence of seeing a professor outside of school. But, even with the awkwardness, the Grangers had announced their decision that they were going to move back to their home in Britain that still waited for them. They had even accepted the invitation to the Burrow in a few short weeks to attend Harry's birthday party and meet everyone that they had only heard about their letters.

With a pop, Hermione and Ron disappeared from a secluded corner of the residential street and appeared at the foot of their hotel bed.

"That wasn't too bad!" Ron said merrily. Hermione pulled off her purse and set it on the table, busying herself so that Ron wouldn't see her anxious expression.

"It definitely could have been worse," she agreed without really agreeing to anything.

"Do you think they liked me, 'Mione?" his smile fell and matched her own worried expression.

"I'm sure they did. I think they're just on edge still, which I can't blame them for, obviously. But…"

"Yeah?" Ron prodded.

"Well, I just hope that we get back to normal at some point. My parents and I, that is."

"You will," he said automatically. "Without a doubt." Hermione, however, still looked doubtful. "Well, they are moving back to England, they agreed to come to Harry's party, and accepted our help packing. I doubt they would do all that if it was a lost cause." She smiled gratefully.

"I'm still surprised they agreed to let us help them pack, actually."

"Why?"

"We were pretty obvious that we could use magic to pack their things quickly, right?"

"Yeah. We were as obvious as we could be." He shrugged, thinking back to their conversation. They both fell silent, lost in their own thoughts. "They must really hate packing."

"Hello, dear!" Curtis pulled open the door and shielded his eyes from the glaring morning sun. "Come in, come in!" He stepped aside to allow Ron and Hermione to walk into the small hallway and he didn't ask for their wands. He hesitated by the door, and after a moment of indecision, pulled his daughter into a hug. Over her dad's shoulder, she made eye contact with Ron who gave her a thumbs up at the obvious move in the right direction. After separating again, Mr. Granger shook Ron's hand and led them into the living room where they had first arrived a little over a week ago.

Mrs. Granger sat crossed leg on the floor in front of a chest of drawers, all of which were open, and was separating their random things into two piles. She looked up when she heard their footsteps echoing against the wooden paneled floors and smiled halfheartedly.

"Thanks for offering your help," she said without moving from the floor.

"Of course, Mum. What do you want us to do?" Hermione asked politely. The sun shone through the windows, and even though it was winter in Australia, the room was quite stuffy. She pulled off her jacket and set it carefully over the back of the armchair.

"You haven't explained yet, Curtis?" Juliet didn't look up from the pile of placemats in her lap. She decisively tossed them into the pile on her right.

"Oh right!" He said from the doorway. "You said that our house is still intact in Britain, yes?" Hermione nodded. "Okay, then we're going to leave the furniture here and our realtor will just sell it with the house. We got most of it cheap and second-hand anyways," he began with a careless wave of his hand. "So, we're just going to decide what things we want to take with us and put it in our suitcases to take on the plane. Hopefully, we can fit it all in, otherwise I'll go out and buy some more bags. Anyways, while we decide on what we want to bring, you two can fit them into the suitcases." Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but her mother started to talk without looking up.

"We know that you want to use magic to pack." Hermione and Roon shared a quick glance. "And we're okay with it." Ron let out a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding. Mrs. Granger finally looked up and locked eyes with the two of them. "But, you can only use magic for packing and tell us what you are going to do." They both nodded and she turned back to her piles, clearly satisfied that they understood.

"Right," Curtis said awkwardly. "Why don't you follow me and you can help me bring the suitcases?"

"Dad?"

"Hmm?" He responded lightly as they walked towards a closet and he began pulling out navy blue bags.

"If you want, I can put an undetectable extension charm on the bag so that you have more room to bring whatever you want. I did it on my purse, see?" She handed him her small bag. He peered into its small contents and his eyes grew wide in wonder.

"Wow! And you can do that to all of these?" He pointed at the three cases that stood lined up beside him.

"Yeah." Ron was suddenly reminded of his own father, who was amazed at the opposite things. They will get along quite well at the party, he thought to himself. Mr. Granger stood aside and watched eagerly as Hermione pointed her wand at each of the three suitcases. He unzipped them and stuck his arm inside one and laughed out loud as he could lean all the way to his armpit without even scraping the bottom. Ron and Hermione grinned at each other and pushed one of the other cases back into the living room.

There, Mrs. Granger pointed to which piles they were going to take and which ones could be put into the bag to be donated.

"I'm going to use magic to pack them away, okay?" Hermione said cautiously before pulling out her wand. Her mom nodded curtly and pursed her lips, but had no objections. So, Ron pointed his wand at the discarded goods and Hermione pointed hers at the others. Simultaneously, they both ordered "pack" and watched as the miscellaneous items flew into their designated spaces. Hermione's made neat stacks against the edges of the trunk, while Ron's haphazardly piled into the bag.

Even with her clear distrust of magic, Mrs. Granger couldn't help herself from watching the silverware and blankets flying into the suitcase and seemingly packing themselves. By dinner time, the entirety of the house that the Grangers wanted to take was packed into three suitcases, ready for their trip on the airplane next week. The tension seemed to ease somewhat as Curtis and Juliet grew more accustomed to small bits of magic in their house again. Curtis told embarrassing stories of Hermione as a little girl, causing Hermione to blush furiously and Ron to look at her adoringly while begging for more blackmail material. Ron made jokes across the dinner table and Hermione joined in retelling stories of Hogwarts. When they stood to go back to their hotel room, Curtis embraced them both and ensured that he would see them soon at the Burrow. Juliet even managed a quick hug with her daughter and a shoulder pat for Ron before they disapparated from the entryway.

The following morning, Ron and Hermione took hold of the fractured picture frame and were pulled back to the Burrow in a haze of blue light.

Also, I reached 100 pages of this story! Yay! (According to google docs that is) Next chapter will be all about Harry's 18th birthday party, so stay tuned for that. And I love reading your reviews! They're so amazing and I really appreciate them. Please please please let me know what you think!

With that, I'm done rambling. Have a great morning/day/night.