Granger, we need to talk
Chapter 39
School and Back to Razor Fin's
Usual disclaimers.
I do not get any monetary benefit from this writing.
I write for my own entertainment.
(Although, if not for reviewers and story followers it would be
a lot less entertaining.)
All recognizable character rights belong to JK Rowling and a bunch of other
highfalutin' corporations.
/** This chapter approx. 5700+ words.
This chapter starts with very Limey or weak Lemony sex. Mostly comparable to the scenes in the Romance novels my wife and her friends read. And they sell those books in big box stores? Sheesh!
Sunday, January 3, 1999
Two weary Hogwarts Assistant Professors were soundly sleeping in an unaltered, yet thoroughly warded and silenced train compartment a half-hour after the Express left Platform 9 ¾'s. There were three others in the compartment, however, they were fast asleep also.
Before they took over this particular compartment, they had enlarged and redecorated another compartment in the train car. They had felt that just because they were too exhausted to party on, their friends should enjoy the trip north. If they did not go home for Ostara or Equinox Festival break, it would be the last time they rode the train to Hogwarts.
Harry was half-reclined against a wall with Hermione snuggled into his chest. On the opposite bench, Neville was asleep sitting straight up due to being propped by his slumbering fiancées on either side.
From the fleeting smiles that flitted across their faces as they slept, the dreams must be good.
Actually, the memories of the past three days should have left all of them with silly knowing smiles plastered to their faces.
New Year's Eve.
She stopped him with a hand to his chest and pointed her wand at his abdomen and with a muttered incantation and a spiraling swoop, a faint lavender haze engulfed him. She did the same to herself, seemed to calmly place her wand under her pillow, and then turned and kissed Harry in a frenzy.
He frenzied right back.
After three endless minutes of trying to remove each other's face, Hermione managed to remember that Harry still had a bit of clothing on. She crouched and in one swift move, stripped his boxer shorts down to his ankles. This left Harry's bits bobbing in front of her face.
And it was intimidating.
Before, the brief glimpses of his . . his . . penis, (She just could not make herself use a more earthy or worse, a pornographic term for IT.) had been in a `safe' environment where she knew she didn't have to worry about that monster that was never going to fit inside her.
Metaphorically grabbing her courage with both hands, but actually grabbing Harry with one hand, she guided him back into the bed. She got him laid on his back while she examined him closely. She did not want a repeat of the night before last. That could hurt his self-esteem at a delicate point in their relationship.
However, doing it deliberately . . .
Encircling Harry's . . penis with both hands, she started moving her hands slowly up and down his length. In less than a couple of minutes, she sped up her stroking as Harry started thrusting upwards with increasing speed.
A sudden gasped "Hermio . . I'm . ." was enough warning. She managed to cup her hand over the end of his penis just as with a grunt, he erupted. The half-dozen spurts ran out of her hand onto his belly, but did not spatter everywhere.
She kept up her stroking until, "It's too sensitive now," he gasped. "Easy, easy. Dear Merlin, that felt wonderful."
A smugly satisfied Hermione flopped down next to him and gave a playful, happy kiss.
She looked perkily at him and chirped, "That was fun. Put that down on our things to repeat list, Harry."
Harry looked at her cross-eyed. "Fun? That was brilliant!"
After staring deep in her eyes for several moments, he reared up slightly and captured her lips again. Her arousal re-igniting, Hermione enthusiastically kissed him back. As her passion climbed, and the cognitive parts of her brain started shutting down, she was unaware of Harry rolling her on her back and starting to employ those `what makes a witch happy' techniques she had imparted to him the night before last. His competence was reasonable for his experience. He was performing with some proficiency, though not with the polish further practice should bring.
Hermione was desperately trying to rein in her rampaging lust when she had an epiphany.
"Why? Why rein it in? I have been a good, moral girl all my life. This is my husband to be. This is not a fling with some boy crush. This is Harry, love of my life. Why am I holding back?"
"Habit. Habit and fear of rejection," she decided. "Well, fuck both of you and the horse you're trying to ride in on. I have my magnificent ring AND there is no one outside the door of this `broom closet' to catch us and laugh about it."
"I hope you like noisy women Harry," she thought.
"Oohhh, Harry. That feels so go-o-o-d! Yes, tweak them! Suck on them! Ahhhh!"
Determined to not just take, Hermione rolled them so Harry was again on his back. She then proceeded to do to him what he had been doing to her. Slightly modified.
She latched onto his neck with her lips and started nipping and sucking from his ear down to his collar bone. From there her mouth replaced her hands on his chest as she suckled his nipples, freeing up her hands to roam south to his once again raging erection.
"Am I moistened enough?" she wondered. "Stupid question. I can feel me dripping onto Harry. Guess it's time."
She levered herself up, straddled his hips, reached down to position him, while gazing into Harry's eyes. He sensed what was coming and lightly gripped her hips. She slowly positioned herself over his weeping crown and started sinking. Slowly. She needed time to expand to fit him in.
She felt a twinge of pain as he bumped into her barrier. A little wriggling to make sure she was ready, a-a-and down.
Long wince.
It hurt, but not as bad as she expected. "Must be the potion," she thought. "With him being that large it should have hurt more. Thank you, Goddess."
She opened her eyes to see Harry looking at her with consternation on his face. He opened his mouth to speak when she placed her hand over it.
"Yes Harry, it hurt. But we expected that. Now, are you just going to lie there and make me do all the work? Or are you going to help your girl out?"
The last was said in a throaty moan as she managed to fill herself further.
She found there was less pain from her tattered hymen if she kept her self completely impaled and rubbed her clitoris over the ridge of Harry's pubic bone. And that pain was rapidly fading into a minor background annoyance as the wonderful new sensations raged through her body.
Her leaning forward let him add his mouth to the feelings his hands were eliciting from her breasts.
As Harry started thrusting his hips up to meet her backward rock, she felt herself wanting to become more verbal and deliberately made herself be more vocal and louder as she became more excited.
Unsurprisingly, it was only a few minutes before Harry babbled that he was going to . . . and then did. Hermione was also surprised when feeling Harry erupt inside her, she too orgasmed.
Wondering where her strength went, Hermione could not keep from collapsing onto Harry. The two sweat-covered lovers lay wrapped around each other panting for oxygen.
As the two snuggled into a more comfortable position, Harry's brain rebooted.
"Hermione love," he said softly. "That was the most amazing thing you have ever done for me. And considering you have saved my life several times, that's sayin' something."
Hermione was too tired to voice much of a reply. "Uh-huh, back atchu."
And only a few seconds later, they were both sleeping the sleep of worn-out lovers.
/**
Next morning, Harry woke first. Feeling the familiar weight on the left side of his chest, he first thought was why did he spend nights alone at Hogwarts when he wanted to so feel the . . love, love?, of waking up like this forever.
That thought promptly inundated his mind with memories of last night's lovemaking. His immediate reflex was to feel he had done something wrong. Fortunately, Hermione picked that moment to make a quiet "Mew" and shift her position slightly.
His rational mind knew that she had been happily satisfied last night's lovemaking. He found himself wishing this morning that he had lasted longer, yet she had made him feel so good, he knew that it was precisely because it had felt so wonderful, longer was impossible.
Hermione stirred, rubbing her face against his chest like a cat. After a few moments, she raised up to look at his eyes. Then she smiled. It was a soft smile at first, but grew and grew until he thought it was possibly the largest smile he had ever seen upon her face.
"Morning, beautiful" he rasped through his dried morning throat. "Guck. Sorry, morning mouth," he said, turning away from her slightly. Without a word, Hermione rolled and when she rolled back, she had her wand in-hand. She pointed it at his face and incanted the Breath Freshening Charm, then repeated the process on herself. Harry could taste the vaguely mint aftertaste.
As she rolled back from placing her wand back on the end table, he gathered her into a deep, randy kiss. Which she responded to with enthusiasm. Things were starting to get heated as Harry started kissing his way down her neck and she started rubbing her leg up and over his morning erection.
Harry could feel as she began to back-off from their physical intimacy. When he also stopped and looked down at her, she raised herself up, gave him a quick peck on the lips, and said, "I'm really sorry Harry. But I'm sweaty, sticky, I must have slept in the wet spot, and I'm still sore from last night. I need a Soft Tissue Restoration draught and a shower."
Harry let her wriggle away from him and kept his eyes glued to her (as far as he was concerned,) marvelous arse.
Hermione took about five steps before turning her head over her shoulder. "I'll probably need some help washing my back. Would you like to help?"
Harry threw off the blankets and rolled off the bed to his feet. Hermione giggled and ran for the bathroom door.
Before they returned to the bed over an hour later, Harry had soaped, scrubbed and rinsed every inch of his Love's wonderful skin. From shampooing her heavy mop of wild hair to even washing between her toes. The last act had given Hermione an attack of the giggles.
She had reciprocated in every way and then began to give him pleasure with her mouth and hands. He had been shocked and surprised that she did not pull away as he erupted. After his knees buckled, she then taught him how he could return her favors with his own hands and mouth. One of the few rational thoughts he had during that long hour was "Thank Merlin for magical never-ending hot water for showers."
A clothed and Tilitsy fed duo headed into the library to spend some time on neglected studying and grading work from the classes they were teaching.
For a couple of hours, Harry worked diligently at his classwork. But near the end of that time he started finding himself spending more and more time looking at his Lover, his fiancée, his very, very, couldn't live without, best friend. Logically, he knew he had watched her before, but now every little move seemed meaningful. He followed as she tucked some hair strands behind an ear. He watched as a frown would etch itself on her forehead at something that vexed her. And he just lost his mind when she started chewing on her lower lip with her front teeth.
He became so hard, it was painful. It was his shifting and squirming that drew Hermione out of her absorption and looked over at him. Seeing his blush and discomfort at getting caught staring, she smiled and gathered her work up into neat piles. She walked around the table to him and bent over to give him a deep kiss.
"I don't know about you, but I could use a nap. Last night was tiring. In fact. I'm so tired that I don't want to climb the stairs. Why don't you Apparate us to the Master Bedroom? Now."
Harry was more than happy to comply, and a moment later, they were standing in the bedroom. Clothing was a hindrance that was rapidly removed. Mouths and hands quickly roamed to places that caused great pleasure to their partners.
He was a bit surprised when she drew back at almost the last moment.
"Harry," she said. " The potion hasn't finished healing me yet, so I'm still a bit sore down there. We are going to have to continue doing what we did in the shower."
"There is one thing we can try that I read about," she continued. "We'll do it together."
She rolled him on his back, swung her leg over his shoulder, and he became so engrossed in licking and rubbing her twin lower lips, he hardly noticed the sensation of her engulfing him with her mouth.
Dinner was eaten late.
That Friday set the tone for the remainder of the holidays. There were only five activities on Saturday. In order of time spent upon each, sex, napping, showers, eating and packing for Sunday's Express ride back to school.
And unlike September, they barely managed to clean up so as to arrive in time to transfigure a compartment on the train for their friends to enjoy.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
At the faculty meeting Sunday night, Headmistress McGonagall had emphasized that there was still a lot of learning for the students to do if they were to catch up to where they should be for a normal school year. Ostara break was only going to be only one week long this year.
Afterwards, Harry and Hermione invited Neville and his fiancée's back to their quarters and filled them in on what had happened over the holidays at Bulstrode's castle. When Harry announced that the two of them were starting dueling practice again, the other three determinedly decided to join in `just in case'.
As Neville explained it. "I feel like I've gotten soft, and that I've forgotten how hard we had to work to beat the Death Eaters. Guess you never know when more like-minded bastards are going to show up."
Classes started again on Monday and quickly had everyone into the mad routine of NEWT studies again. Harry had his additional teaching work, and the work needed for the now approved Underground Pub.
Harry found out what Hermione had been working on during the Wizengamot meetings. As she explained it, instead of listening to the largely boring speeches, she had been creating a Pub work schedule of what was to be done, and when. This Friday evening was to be the start of construction meeting in the rooms.
Daphne made it a point to `casually' hang around with Harry and Hermione. They all excused it as being due to Underground planning. Whilst some believed that pile of dragon dung, most had paid attention to the New Year's Eve Gala stories and pictures. The bracelet the older Greengrass sister had worn was frequently commented on. And a new secret betting pool was started.
And finally, Harry was frantically trying to keep up his studies and teaching while starting dueling practice and making love and/or having raunchy sex with Hermione for about two hours per day. He was starting to have day-mares about a time when they would forget Door Locking and Silencing Charms as for some reason Hermione enjoyed being quite vocal during sex.
Which one night had made him ask, with a face as red as a tomato, why she was so vocal when they were making love, as he put it. She told him it was because being magical they could silence a room. In the Mundane world, they probably would be having sex, as she put it, in a dorm room or a flat with thin walls and thinner doors. Getting carried away could mean half a building could know what they were doing.
Instead of having to be both physically and vocally quiet, being a witch meant she could be a lustfully noisy as she felt like. It felt liberating to be a witch she said, and then proceeded to show him until collapse, what the words uninhibited and raunchy meant.
The Thursday evening meeting with those who wanted the extra credit on their CV met around a couple of tables in the large room that had once contained a giant, animated chess set. Muggle drinks and snacks had been supplied by Tilitsy to the Hogwarts elves, who served them to the students.
Assignments and work schedules were handed out and everyone was reminded to make sure Harry knew you were done and could get a professor to check and grade the work. The grand opening was scheduled for the first weekend in February.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
It was the first Saturday (9th)back at school. Harry and Hermione were sitting in the Great Hall starting breakfast when a Gringotts owl swept in and headed towards them during the morning mail rush. They were unsurprised as Lord Potter-Black was often receiving letters from the bank.
Several wand passes and some muttering told Harry the letter was safe to handle, and the owl flew off with its bacon reward firmly clenched in its beak. As soon as he broke the seal, he saw the message they had both been anticipating and dreading had arrived.
Worldwide Wizard Messenger Service
To: Lord Potter-Black, Care of Gringotts Bank Services, London
From: Healer G. Courter, Wollongong, Australia
Lord Potter-Black, as of January 8, 1999 Mr. and Mrs. Wendel Wilkens have remembered
Daniel and Emma Granger.
They have read the letter you requested to be given to them.
Fastest method to reach them is call 00-61-2-5555-4357. (1)
Best prepare very good and comprehensive explanation as to why
they are in Australia.
Signed: G. Courter
/**
In spite of trying to prepare herself for this moment over the last weeks, Hermione freaked. She leaped from her seat yelling at Harry that they had to get to Australia NOW!
Harry was hard put trying to physically restrain her without hurting her, and attempting to quiet her nonsensical to most, shouting. He accomplished them by first pinning her arms to her sides, then kissing her. At least when she wasn't jerking her mouth aside trying to make him understand why she had to leave right now.
"Stop, Hermione," he practically shouted in her ear. That shout finally broke through her frantic panic from the message. Slowly she stopped her struggles to break away from him. It took a few moments, but she finally noticed the silence of the Hall as everyone was staring at the duo or whispering to their neighbors while staring at them.
Flaming with embarrassment, she burrowed deep into Harry's chest. After a moment of rubbing her back, Harry turned towards the faculty table.
"As you can see, Headmistress, Professor Granger has received some very disturbing news. I would like your permission to leave the school for the weekend and start remedying this problem."
The look that accompanied this request made it clear that permission or no, the pair was leaving. Now.
"You will return by Monday, Professor Potter?"
There was no give in his reply. "Probably, Headmistress." He knew he was abusing his fame and the power that went with it. Right now, he didn't care.
"Very well. Off you go." McGonagall's reply held just a hint of resentment at being abused this way.
They hustled up to their rooms, hastily donned Mundane clothing, and rushed out the main doors. As soon as they cleared the gates, they apparated to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. A quick floo trip to the Leaky Cauldron, a dash out the door and in less than twenty minutes they were in a cab headed for the nearest Carphone Warehouse store where Harry purchased a state-of-the-art, Nokia 9110i mobile phone and a pre-pay-for-minutes contract. Quick set-up by the clerk and two hundred pounds of purchased use time later found Hermione staring at the phone in her hand.
"Come on, Love," he said as he hailed a cab. "Let's head back to the Leaky and rent a room. We'll freeze to death if we try to talk outside here."
"We can't, Harry," she replied. "Any magic performed nearby will fry the phone. I have a better idea. Hang on to my arm. We're going to the Oxford City Library. They have small meeting rooms for people to hold private meetings.
In the library, Harry finished locking the door and silencing the walls, floor and ceiling of the room the Assistant Librarian had pointed out to them. Harry left a Fiver in the book purchase fund jar, and received a smile in return.
Hermione was seated on a chair at the small table, staring at the mobile phone as though if she moved, it was going to bite her arm off.
"C'mon, Love," he spoke calmly to her. "That nice clerk showed us that Wollongong is ten hours ahead of us, so its about seven P.M. there. Healer Courter gave us a complete phone number, all you have to do is push the buttons."
"But, what if they hate me? What I did was unforgivable. I was as bad as the Ministry. I didn't give them a choice. I just Obliviated them, and mind-controlled them into leaving their home, their work, and their country," she babbled, guilt and fear clouding her voice.
"And if you hadn't, they would probably have been killed when the Death Eaters came and burned your house down while we were hiking around Britain last fall," was Harry's reply.
Harry felt they had said the same things back in May during their visit to her parents. And he was not about to let her fall into a pit of despair again.
He figured she was crying so hard she probably couldn't see the phone anyway as he gently took it from her. Sitting in another chair, Harry carefully started pushing number buttons.
After a few rings on the other phone, Harry heard the phone being picked up.
"Wilkens residence," came a female British voice.
Harry instantly decided to plunge ahead.
"Mrs. Granger? This is Harry Potter speaking. I apologize that you are talking to me instead of Hermione, but she's crying so hard, I don't think she can talk right now."
There was a lo-o-ong moment of silence from the other woman.
"Why is my daughter crying, Mr. Potter?" came the cold, emotionless voice from Australia.
"Because she is terrified you don't love her anymore," Harry answered in a soft voice.
Again, silence from the other phone.
"Mr. Potter. I understand from your Healer friend that the spell she used on us is not labeled an Unforgivable, but from our point of view, why can't we label it an Unforgivable? No discussion, no explanation, just another abuse by a Magical of some muggles. A fait accompli that we didn't even know about." The voice sounded bitter.
"Excuse me if I do not seem very forgiving, Mr. Potter, but she took away our . . . our selves. At least the Healer explained that being an inexperienced witch, (Harry winced at the venom in her voice), she did not perform the spell properly."
After a pause, the cold voice returned.
"He said that her inexperience with the spell, is the reason my husband and I have been having sleeping and . . emotional problems. We have been restless and out of sorts. We haven't been able to settle into our profession as we keep feeling we are in the wrong place or something."
Harry had taken the scolding as he figured the Grangers had some venting they needed to do.
However, his patience was starting to fray.
Feeling he had to say something to defend Hermione, Harry spoke up.
"Did the feelings become worse around the beginning of June?' he asked.
Silence. Then "Yes".
"We were there and met with you several times about then," Harry said. "Your daughter tried twice to undo her spell. Obviously, she was not successful. I will have to ask Healer Courter if her efforts possibly created some holes in the walls she created in your mind to wall off your knowledge of her."
At that point, Harry decided he could do cold also.
"Is Mr. Granger listening in?"
"Yes."
"Good," Harry replied in a clipped voice. "I will now give you the short version of what happened to your daughter while you have been gone. We spent ten months hunting around Great Britain for some artifacts to bring the war to an end. We spent the winter in a tent being cold, hungry and hunted like rabbits by the evil bad blokes. And when the Death Eaters finally did catch us, she was tortured and scarred for life as the most evil witch in the country cut her with a cursed knife."
Harry's voice was rising along with his anger.
"Your daughter was listed as the Number Two Enemy of the Ministry."
A short pause. "That's right. Your daughter was considered that dangerous to the terrorists who had taken over the government. Oh, yeah. That's why the bastards knew where you lived. They were now the government. They came to your home to torture you, kill you, and probably leave your bodies in your burning house. They would not have cared that you didn't know where Hermione was. They used to kill people like you for sport."
Harry was practically panting. Hermione had stopped sobbing but was burrowed into Harry's chest.
"So, what she did was possibly not the correct answer to the problem, but it was a solution to her problem of how to keep you alive and safe."
"You're both safe and alive. Her solution was not perfect, but it worked."
Harry paused for a moment, working on reining in his temper.
"If you decide to stay in Australia, we will come to visit after graduation. If you decide to return, let us know so we can get a place for you to stay. Remember, your house was a pile of ash and is only half re-built."
Only silence came from Australia. "
"We will try to call again in two weeks. It may be a different phone though. Magic and mobile phones do not play well together."
As Harry went to push the `off' button, Hermione suddenly surged towards the phone.
"Mum? Da? I love you."
Then falling to almost a whisper, she repeated, "I love you."
Harry gently pushed the button ending the call and wrapped both arms around his love cuddled her close, murmuring love words to her while large tears rolled down her cheeks.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
The next week flew by in the sense that Harry was as very busy with his teaching, classes, and his project. In another sense it crawled as Hermione was an emotional wreck. She had thought she had two absolute bedrocks in her life. Harry's love, and the love of her parents. And now, one of them was fractured.
Harry could tell she was running on auto-point-me. In fact, the whole school knew that whatever news she had received that morning must have been really bad. He also did a magnificent job of keeping his disappointment at her lack of physicality hidden. For the first time in over weeks, she wore flannel pajamas to bed. A few times he had woken in the night to find her silently crying.
He had no idea how to fix this in the short term. Long term he forced himself to believe Healer Courter's advice that time would heal her parents hurt. The brief meeting they had with the returned healer in Hogsmeade had helped a little
As the third week of the term started, Daphne started hanging out with the two of them again. Eventually, she got Hermione one-on-one and Hermione told him she had skillfully extracted what hit her so hard after last week's owl. It was noticed that Daphne had invited Hermione back to her room on a couple of occasions.
Then on Thursday, Ron and Millicent approached the table the three were studying at. With a tilt of his head, Harry indicated they should join them.
Both Daphne and Harry put their quills down, welcoming a break. The talk became general about classes and the remaining Quidditch games and Hogsmeade trips. Harry was surprised to find Ron had spent almost a week of the holidays visiting Mils.
As Mils made a show of asking Daphne for some Runes homework, Ron casually leaned towards harry and very quietly asked if they could come to their rooms later tonight. Millicent needed to talk to them.
With an almost imperceptible nod, Harry agreed. After a few more minutes of meaningless chatter, the ex-Gryffindor and the ex-Slytherin excused themselves and wandered off to a couch to cuddle. Harry still had trouble thinking of them as a pair of people who could be in the same room without Ron having an anti-Slytherin tantrum.
He shook his head in mild bemusement, then noticed Daphne was looking at him with one of her delicate eyebrows slightly quirked, the other eye was a bit narrowed, and her mouth was meagerly pulled to one side.
He understood that she was telling him she wanted to be at the meeting also. With a sigh, he nodded an assent. Had he reflected on it, he would have noticed that he could now read Daphne's micro facial expressions as easily as Hermione's. The thought would have both puzzled and terrified him
Unbeknownst to either of them, while they had thought Hermione was wrapped in her thoughts or her notes, she had paid very close attention to Ron's question, and Daphne's query. For the first time in a week, she started thinking about something besides her parents.
Late that night, as the two assistant professors were in their sitting room grading homework, Daphne slipped in. About fifteen minutes later, Ron and Millicent were admitted.
After a few minutes of small talk and butterbeers, Millicent sat straight and became very formal.
"Lord Potter-Black, my Lord Bulstrode requests a boon."
Inwardly Harry groaned as he set his demeanor to "Head of House" mode.
"The DMLE was been up to our home to investigate what happened after Christmas. My father showed me their final report. I might add he had to invoke Head of House Privilege to get the copy that he showed me. I quote, "A waste of manpower, ink and parchment. We know there was a fight, but no evidence of further crime. No follow up recommended."
She continued, "Apparently you have quite a reputation with the Auror's. It seems to them, that if you kill someone and there is no body, that is normal for you. In spite of no body, they have no idea who he was, or what he wanted, and closed the case. Father said they could out stupid Fudge-the-Ostrich."
"Unfortunately, the incompetence of the Ministry is not why he is asking for a boon. There is worse. Several of our potion base distributors on the continent have been told by, as they described them, unsavory characters, that we will not be able to supply them this year. The sub-text was `play Quidditch with them' and maybe you'll get supplied."
"Father believes that the assassin will return during our annual collection of the Razorfins and try to steal the fluid before we can get it back to the castle. Father is upgrading the castle's wards as we speak, and the company swears they will hold under an assault by anyone except
V . . V . oldemort. "
"And that will be?" Harry queried.
"Within two weeks. Sunday, January thirty-first will be the second full moon after the Winter Solstice. The men will start fishing at dusk"
Harry sat in his chair, staring at nothing ahead of him. The pose looked as though he was thinking furiously, and everyone gave him quiet as they unconsciously waited for their leader to tell them what they were going to do.
Actually, what he was doing, was trying to analyze why he was not furiously exploding in anger? Somebody wanted him to be a Hero for them once again. Didn't they realize he was tired of the Hero trade? It had killed him once, and that bastard had almost killed him a few weeks ago, or worse, almost murdered his Hermione.
"Last time we didn't really expect the trouble we found. This time, if we go, we would know what was coming. That murderous bastard is as free with Unforgivable Curses as any Death Eater. People could die, and for what? A potion ingredient?"
"But the Bulstrode's have already paid for being in the way. Nine dead? This isn't about potion ingredients. It's about justice for those already murdered, and protection of the innocents being used as hostages. Damn Feddington."
Decision made, Harry looked around at his friends.
"Miss Bulstrode, send a letter to Lord Bulstrode asking him to meet at Potter Manor Saturday afternoon, preferably with some type of plan. Hermione, Daphne, start planning. Then we need to meet with McGonagall and get her on board with any plans. We are going to need cover and excuses to disappear."
A/N:
Ah, the Fates giveth to Harry, and then the Fates taketh his happiness away. That's canon.
One: Wiki directions for calling Oz. 5555 is an American movie/TV phone prefix. The studios adopted it after idiots kept calling any real-sounding numbers they used in movies or TV shows. Hope it's the same down under. The last four numbers were picked to spell HELP on the buttons.
Dear Lord, writing sex scenes is hard work. No pun intended.
Have never been to Wollongong, but it holds a warm and fuzzy spot in my memories for what it did for me during a game of Australian Rails at a gaming convention.
