NOTE THAT In this chapter, things move a little fast.


Chapter VI

He knew things that no one else other than Hermione knew, as they had explored magic together, and found out unbelievable things that he was sure that no one else knew of. Even without access to magical books, or magical experience, they had advanced magically by themselves and without help. But if there was one thing he was willing to trade all of his knowledge for, was for his nightmares to stop.

Hermione knew about some of them, she knew that he always had nightmares about green lights and the night his parents had been murdered, but she didn't know how bad it was, how extensive the damage to his brain was. It was something he kept secret from her, probably the only thing that he's ever kept from her and he wanted it to stay that way. And with the help of meditation and a whole lot of effort and pain, he was able to keep it that way.

If there was a word in the dictionary, that he was looking for to explain why he wasn't telling her, he would have gone with resigned. There was something unspoken, something definite that told him that it wasn't going to change, that his brain and mind, and sanity were messed up or was going to be messed up and it would stay that way. He didn't have the hope to look for something that would help him and he didn't have the heart to tell Hermione and then watch her kill herself to find a way to help him.

It was official, Harry Potter's mind was broken, and he didn't know how he could fix it. He first became aware of it when he was becoming more and more aware of his magic, and his special ability called Eidetic Memory. His ability allowed him to remember everything he touched, tasted, read, spoke, you name it he could remember it. It also allowed him to remember past events of his life, ones that happened when he was a baby, and so on.

To describe it, he would have said he had a high, repetitive, uncontrollable case of PTSD. Every time he closed his eyes, the nightmares would be reawakened, time after time he would remember the day his parents were killed, he would remember the day he was beaten almost to death by the hand of Vernon Dursley, he could remember the time when Hermione was being assaulted by the bullies. If that wasn't bad enough, he later became aware of another person's magic within him, and he knew after a while that the magic, was dark, fighting his own magic for control, and making all his dreams into nightmares, and having him sleep through them showing him different tragic possibilities of what could have happened if he hadn't done something or the other.

He could remember the night where he had nightmares the entire night about the things those girls would have done to Hermione if he hadn't stopped them. It was one of the reasons he internally questioned himself at every turn, every decision he had to make, his head was a pounding disaster, each second he was running different possibilities of what could happen if he did this, or if he didn't. He was second-guessing himself about everything.

The night where the dark magic inside of him made him think of things he hadn't done or even witnessed terrified him to actual tears. In those dreams, he was murdering and torturing and he had the face of a noseless snake devil.

He could never catch a break, for each night, the nightmares would return. Sometimes it would be the night his parents were murdered, showing him how they were murdered, and how they could be murdered, and other nights he would see things he had never seen before, in a body that was clearly not his.

And each day, each night and second he was asleep, he was slowly losing his mind – slowly losing his sanity, and he felt that it was just a matter of time before he actually did. They were becoming too much, they were scaring him even though he never showed it. He was so terrified at it that he would be silencing his room at night so he could hide the secrets of his screams and cries at night. He couldn't remember the night he even had a good night's sleep.

They were times when he would be able to fend off the dark magic, but not the nightmares, and it would be the nights where he got the most sleep – it would be the nights where Hermione's magic mingled with his. Thinking about their connection, made him blush, even in the darkness of the kitchen within the trunk where he was getting a glass of cold water to help him shake off the remains of his last rumble with a nightmare. They shared a soul bond, an actual soul bond! And she liked him, she actually liked him in that way.

Hermione Granger was simply the best person in the entire universe, he was sure enough to say, she was brilliant, she was funny and clever and loving and caring and that they promised each other that they would be a couple, like they had done before when they promised each other they'd spend the rest of their lives together, simply made him feel as though he could conquer the world.

She was awake right now, he could tell from the presence of her magic, it seemed particularly strong tonight, and he presumed that the reason behind it was because their relationship had become stronger as well, and had, by extension, strengthened their connection to each other.

But she was a bit troubled, her magic was dancing around her protectively and he felt proud that she could control her magic so well, he had taught her after all, and he took pride in thinking that he actually taught Hermione Granger something. But his magic was still stronger. He wasn't being unfair to Hermione, in fact, she agreed with him multiple times before, because his magic was indeed more powerful than hers, it was more trained. So he sent his own magic to her, filling her with warmth, yet placing a blanket of protection around her, just how he liked it.

As her magic became calm and subtle, he knew that she was asleep, and with that in mind he tried to have sleep claim him once more – and even as the nightmares returned, he held a sense of contentment, knowing that his Hermione was safe with his magic.


The morning when Harry Potter woke up, he knew something was wrong and he knew that something was right at the same time. He was torn on which emotion he should act on, on one hand, he felt so much love, and so much contentment and peace that he just wanted to lay down back on the bed in his bedroom in the magical trunk and bask in all its lovely glory. But on the other hand, something felt so off, that he knew that someone was in danger. He knew that Hermione was in danger.

He was up in his bed at once, his magic flaring immediately as paper and clothing flew everywhere and anywhere, but he didn't care, even as his bed toppled over behind him, as he exited the door and went for the ladder that led up and out of the magical trunk.

For once in his life, Harry Potter was overwhelmed by all the magic he was feeling. Ever since he was young and he started to meditate, he was aware of his magic, and as he grew, he was aware of the magic that grew with him, and always kept them both in the same league. But today, his magic seemed to age without him knowing, it seemed to fly past what he was aware of and into a different league, a stronger, more powerful league that made him giddy inside, that made him feel confident and indestructible.

His clothes floated to him as he exited the trunk and as usual, they placed themselves on, but he was suddenly aware there was a problem when he tried to walk with them on, they were short. His mind was overloaded with worry for his best friend, so much that he didn't care about his clothing, and his magic acted on its own, lengthening the fabric until it once more fit him perfectly.

The magic in his veins made him breathless and despite the hurry, he was in to get to Hermione's house, apparently by running there if it was necessary, he had to stop and catch his breath. It wasn't that he was tired, or that he was exhausted or so worried for Hermione that his breathing was uneven, it was his magic that was making him breathe heavily. He wasn't used to the amount of power he now, somehow, had.

But there was something that he knew for ages, something that was apparent and that he had taught Hermione as soon as he found she was a witch, and that was that magic, was all about intent. He figured that was how he apparated and was suddenly standing next to a sleeping Hermione Granger.

He was suddenly overwhelmed by memories as he dropped to the ground, memories that were again, not his, but unlike the memories he'd had before that weren't his, these were familiar, they were Hermione's.

He was in a tunnel, roaming through her memories of everything, since she was a baby, when she first walked, everything. And he felt a little bad when he realized that he also saw her private moments, for instance, when she took a bath, but the thing was, that he couldn't stop it. Besides, he and Hermione shared everything, so even if he saw her naked, in her own memories because he was given no choice, they would permit it. They were best friends like that, soul mates, and there was no awkwardness between them.

"Harry?" Her voice was an angel, the voice of an angel that halted his inner confusion and stopped him from roaming through her memories. He was back in her room and she was in front of him, on her knees and her hand behind his head as he laid on the ground. She bore a concerned expression, but also a sad one, as though she realised what had been happening to him, and then he realised that she had. For when he had witnessed her memories before she woke him, she witnessed his. And she knew about the nightmares, she knew about the dark magic that was inside of him.

And suddenly, her magic was inside of him, more than before and he was engulfed in the abundant feeling of warmth and love, so much pure love and affection. "Harry," her angelic voice said he could see her bending down to him, and he felt her lips on his forehead and he closed his eyes as her love for him became overwhelming. "Harry, you can fight this; you're so much stronger than it. Harry, you are loved, fight it with the love you have in you. Harry, I love you."

The Dark Magic that was inside of him screamed in agony as Hermione's love pushed it out of his body and killed it. The love that his best friend had for him was too much for it to bear and overwhelmed the dark magic inside of him, forcing it to not only leave his body but to greet death.

They were on the ground now, both breathing heavily and Harry couldn't believe what just happened. He couldn't believe that the dark magic that ruined his dreams more than they already were was now gone, and it was because of Hermione. The effort it had taken them to defeat the dark magic, left them exhausted, and they just laid there on the floor as they tried to catch their breath. But in as much pain as he was, there was a question that was just begging him to be asked, "Do you really?" He asked breathlessly as he turned sideways to her, she looked older. She looked as though she was thirteen, in fact! Sharper jawline, less chubby cheeks, more abundant freckles, and her buck teeth were no longer there.

"I do," she said as she turned to him with an affectionate look, and her eyes too widened as she saw what he assumed to be an older version of himself, for he felt as though he had grown as well. He could feel that he had grown and was no longer in a ten year old's body, it explained why his clothing wasn't fitting this morning. "But I didn't say it out loud."

Their eyes widened together as they both realised what happened, "The Soul Bond," they said simultaneously as they got up and went to the mirror. They were indeed, older. He could assume that they were both thirteen years old, he was taller than her, and still kept his muscular frame and his green eyes were sparkling while his messy black hair was everywhere. What was more startling was that he was seeing without his glasses.

"Harry, your scar," Hermione said as she sat him down on her bed and touched his forehead, sure enough, his scar was no longer there, it was fading.

"Hermione, dear, are you awake?" Hermione's mother's voice came from the other side of the door. Their eyes widened as they turned to each other, and without prompt, their magic acted on its own, and soon they were covered in glamour charms, their bodies looking as they had before.

"We'll speak later then," Harry said.

"Or we can speak whenever we want," Hermione replied and what startled and excited him was that her lips weren't moving, they were speaking telepathically.

"But we'll meet at the park," he continued as he stepped towards her and as Hermione's mother rapped on the door once more. She nodded and was shooing him away as her mother knocked impatiently again, but he stepped forward and in a swift movement, pecked her lips, they weren't too young anymore, they were basically thirteen, the age he wanted them to get together. "Oh, and Hermione," he said as her eyes widened, her knees buckled and her cheeks flushed, "I love you too." And as a grin bloomed on both of their faces, he apparated just as the door opened and Jean Granger walked in.


Ever since he was young, he had never experienced love. He knew that his parents must have loved him, showed him tons of affection, but he wasn't aware of it then, as he didn't know what was happening. And the only way he could think he felt loved was imagining them with him, by remembering the things they had said to him, had done to him, the times his mother had tucked him in the nursery and kissed his forehead goodnight; the times when his father would throw him in the air and catch him back; the times his godfather Padfoot would let him ride him on his furry back whenever he was in his dog form when he had bought him his toy broom.

When Hermione became part of his life, he was finally feeling the affection he craved so much, even if he didn't admit it to himself. She had the most beautiful soul, the warmest, loving magic that he was privileged to have run through his veins and mix with his own. But even then, he didn't feel fully loved.

He wasn't being greedy and wanting to be loved more than anyone else or anything obnoxious, it was just that there was a feeling inside of him that was going against the love and affection Hermione had for him. It was the dark magic, and it didn't like the love, it didn't want the feeling of affection to rival its own depressing and saddening one.

But then today happened. Something had happened and the bond he and Hermione shared and was suddenly strengthened and the love they had for each other had no limits and it practically destroyed the dark magic inside of him. He was free of it, and Hermione's love was abundant in him, it was swimming inside of his veins and blood cells, and he felt so content he could sleep right here under the shade of their favourite tree.

He was finally loved, he was finally feeling the love he always wanted. And it was thanks to Hermione. She was smiling right now as she helped her mother prepare lunch, he knew everything she was doing and thinking, and neither minded. What he hated was that he couldn't speak with her right now, because she was cooking and needed to focus. But even though she needed to focus, she was mixing her magic with his and he could feel her smiling.

They had spoken this morning through their bond and decided that right then they would talk about normal stuff and a little about their bond. But they mutually decided that they would talk extensively about their bond and what happened when they were guaranteed to be alone in the park.

He closed his eyes as he laid back further, enjoying the peace, he had never felt so content and in peace before. Now that the dark magic wasn't inside of him anymore, he felt as though he had been released. Gone were the days where he would have to secretly fight it off in the middle of class when it was particularly troubling, long gone were the days where he would relentlessly exercise to get his mind off of the dreams it placed in his head.

He sighed as he let his mind and magic wander, suddenly he was in the sky flying through the clouds, and then he'd be a wave in the nearby ocean, and then he'd be a bird on the shore of that ocean. Magic really had no limits when you were feeling like this.

It was a feeling he never wanted to not experience, and it was a feeling Hermione had given him. He smiled as he thought about his best friend and hopefully, after today, they'd be something more. He still couldn't believe that the soulbond they shared was so powerful that it powered their growth to such an extent that they aged to thirteen year olds.

They were older than thirteen year olds in both mind and magic, so becoming thirteen year olds in body, was quite fitting. It also allowed him to do what he wouldn't have done if it hadn't happened. He was aware of the difficulties and problems that would have come if he had started to date Hermione when she was in her eleven year old body. Richard Granger was one of them, and Harry didn't want to deal with the man. Not because he was scared of him, but because he was sure he'd lose his temper if he and the man ever held a conversation. The way the Granger man was treating Hermione and her mother with a cold shoulder and how he was growing distant to them, was both frightening and angering, as he didn't want Hermione to grow up without a father in his life, and yet, the way he was treating them made Harry want him to leave.

But now they were basically thirteen year olds, and whether they would keep that a secret and keep on the glamour charms, was a topic they had to discuss when she arrived. It would be really weird when they arrived at Hogwarts taller and bigger than all the other first years.

Another topic, a really important one, was the way their bond was suddenly strengthened. Something had to happen to cause the sudden change and he was hoping to find out today.

He wondered what his parents thought about Hermione. Did they like her? Did they think she was the right person for him? Did they agree with his feelings for her? Did they like and understand the soul bond that they shared and found it fitting? He wouldn't know of course, as much as he was loathed to say it, but there was something inside of him, that told him that they would like her.

From what he remembered from his short time with his mother, she was a brilliant woman. She and Hermione would've gotten along quite brilliantly.

Of course, the thought about his parents triggered the thought about his godfather. Sirius Black, the man accused to have sold out his parents to the Dark Wizard Voldemort and kill 19 muggles along with one of his best friends called Peter Pettigrew. But Harry knew better.

He had come across this information when he was reading about the second blood war in the Darkest Events in Magical History and he was livid when he read the part about his godfather being accused of such atrocious activities. He knew for a fact that the real traitor was the man believed to be the one killed by his godfather.

In fact, some of his parents' last words to him, was that Peter Pettigrew, a man he had known as his father's best friend and by the nickname Wormtail, was the real traitor and that Sirius Black wasn't.

He wondered now if that was his parents' plan after all. To be honest, he wasn't sure if they knew about his eidetic memory – they had never spoken about it after all. Did they perhaps know and told him so he'd remember years on to make a difference if Sirius was indeed believed as a traitor? His parents really were brilliant.

Something else he remembered from the day his parents were murdered, was the man who had first came to see the house, before either Sirius or the large giant-man had. Black greasy hair and a blank expression were the way his father had constantly described the man he remembered being called Severus Snape, or Snivillous, as his father liked to say.

But the day he saw the man with the closest resemblance to his parents' description of Severus Snape, the man didn't have a blank expression, in fact, the man was crying.

The man named Severus Snape clearly had affection for his mother, he knew, for he had analysed everything about that disastrous night. No random person would have held his mother like that and cried and whimpered. From what he understood from Hogwarts: A History, the same individual was now the Potions Master and Professor, along with the head of Slytherin House, at Hogwarts.

The professors at Hogwarts were an interesting bunch. Professor McGonagall, he knew of course from her visit here, and she was the head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress, as she had explained and as he had read about for extra confirmation. And also as she had mentioned, she was the Transfiguration Professor.

He knew her. It seemed that after the Dark Magic left his body, his memories were far clearer than they were before. Mum and Dad always spoke highly of her, as they always spoke about everything and anything when he was around, because he was always around, they included him in everything.

They said that she was as close as family, and dad had told him that the next time they saw her, when – if – all of this was over, he should call her 'Aunt Minnie'. Harry knew the next time he saw her, he'd call her that, just as his father had told him to do.

The Charms Professor was a half-goblin believe it or not, and Harry was interested in the class already when he found out that. The man seemed interesting to his ears and Charms looked like something he could take a fancy to, so the combination was great for him. The Charms Professor was the head of Ravenclaw House.

Two subjects that interested him greatly were Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts, the two seemed like subjects he could excel in. While DADA posed as something he could grow to become exceptional in, he had a lot of experience handling plants in the Dursley's backyard, so the experience could help him.

The Professor who taught the subject called Herbology looked kind and humble, and she was the Head of Hufflepuff house. While the Professor for DADA, looked really, really incompetent to be a professor, much less teach a subject that seemed to be essential to living in the dangers of the Wizarding world.

While he knew it was wrong to judge a book by its cover, he could tell that this man wasn't the right person to teach that particular subject. But he'd see what the man could do, after all, everyone had surprises within them. There were other different subjects, like Astronomy and the yearly first year Flying Class, but all the good class would come his and Hermione's way until they were in their third year.

Primary school was boring. But unlike the other students who thought it was boring because they were learning, he and Hermione thought it was boring because they already knew everything that was being taught to them. In fact, each year before the school term started, they would have already finished reading the entire year's curriculum, and finished the required textbooks, and starting on the textbooks for the next year.

It seemed that Hogwarts would be a slight repeat of that. For all the good, exciting classes, and the exciting years for some classes, were third year and upwards. It was unfair that they were smarter than their actual years. He had already started studying Physics by the time they started teaching multiplication and division in school.

The sun was starting to dim a little, showing that it was late in the afternoon when he spied Hermione prancing towards him with the largest smile on her pretty, pretty face, and instantly his magic acted on its own and placed privacy charms around them. Hermione of course, ran straight past those wards, as the intent of the magic, was to let only the two of them through, and soon, his face was filled with bushy hair as she hugged him tightly.

Her hugs were simply the best, her loving, warm embrace never failed to place a smile on his face, or to cheer him up on the darkest of days. Merlin, meant it when he said that he loved her because he did. He'd never been surer about something else before, he was bloody in love with Hermione Granger.

There was no doubt about it, no matter their age, and how young they were, there was no way around saying that he loved her, because he did. Even if they were eleven years old in body he would have told her. To hell with the consequences, he loved her.

"I love you, too, Harry," she said and he turned back to her. She was back into her thirteen year old self he had seen her in this morning after what happened, a large smile, and a large blush over her face as she stared lovingly at him – he hadn't even realised that he too had changed back into his thirteen year old body.

Magic truly was amazing, he thought as she wrapped her hands around his neck and brought herself closer to him, and so was Hermione.


"Something must have happened," Hermione said as she paced back and forth in front of him, her sundress flowing with the wind as her eyebrows furrowed deeply in thought. He just laid back on the trunk as he watched her in awe, a dreamy smile still on his face after they shared their second kiss, and third, and fourth, and so on. The feeling of her lips on his was simply amazing and pleasurable. It seemed impossible to describe, but yet, he could think of hundreds of words to describe those angelic lips of hers. He still couldn't believe that she was his girlfriend now and that he was her boyfriend. He didn't know how he had the courage to ask her if she'd be his – even though it was more than obvious that they were together. He just thought that it would be nice to formally ask her, and assumed that she would've liked it – found it romantic, or something.

She turned to him, but she wasn't exactly looking at him, she was too in thought to notice, "Yesterday, our bond was stronger than it was before, yes, and I think it's because we admitted our feelings for each other. It could be a possibility, because all you speak about sometimes when you're teaching me about magic, is that magic is all about intent, and therefore, emotion. So as our emotions for each other grow stronger, it seemed that the bond strengthened as well. What's puzzling, is that nothing more was said or thought between the two of us between when we left for home, and when we went to sleep. It's quite obvious that something happened in the middle of the night – something so far, unknowledgeable to us – that caused or bond to strengthen so much, that we've fully bonded in mind and the soul – it was strong enough to power our growth as well. We just need to find out what it is!" She sat down next to him pulling her knees up to her chest, and he could hear, thanks to their bond, that her mind was a mess of scrambled thoughts.

And thanks to their long friendship and how much he knew her, he knew that she was getting frustrated. He could feel the magic leave him as he transferred it to Hermione as she closed her eyes dreamily instantly.

It took a moment for them to calm down, whenever they shared magic now, it was so powerful that it was overwhelming at times. The power of their magic and the power behind their love for each other mixed in their magic was immensely pleasurable.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said as she turned to him with a large smile. As a reward, she pecked him on the lips. Neither of them could get enough of the other's lips it seemed. They were just mesmerised that they were finally allowed to kiss the other.

"You're welcome," he grinned. He then stood up a little and kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in his. "I have an idea how we could find out." He announced softly.

"You do?" She asked with narrowed eyes, "then why did you make me ramble?"

He grinned cheekily at her, "I just thought it looked rather cute." He relished her red cheeks and adorable, shy smile but continued, "Remember this morning, when we got rid of the dark magic inside of –" He realised his mistake as he spoke the sentence, and he watched, as her eyes narrowed and as her nostrils flared. He expected it.

"That reminds me!" She said as she got up, and he got up as well. She smacked his chess. Once, twice, thrice. He didn't even know she could hit this hard, "why didn't you tell me about the nightmares!?" She asked as she genuinely slapped him. He deserved it. "Why didn't you tell me, Harry James Potter!? You suffered away nights and nights and I didn't know a single bloody thing, I could have helped you!"

He immediately saw she was going to break down and he wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed into his shoulder, "You've suffered so much, Harry." She mumbled, "And I felt useless that I couldn't help you through it. I've only experienced some of the nightmares you had, Harry, and was so terrified. I can't believe the things that you've been through by yourself – the things you've let yourself go through by yourself."

"I know," he whispered as he rubbed her back, "It was selfish and really uncalled for, we've shared everything since we were six, I should have shared this with you as well – we should have gone through it together like we always have and always will."

She rubbed her eyes and smiled a little, "I'll let it slip," she said, still in his arms, "But just this once. From now on, they'll be no more secrets kept from each other." At his nod, she continued, "I know things aren't cleared up, Harry, that everything's just a bit confused right now – we haven't even finished reading the soulbond book to expect what to come next. But whatever does come next, we'll face it together, do you understand me?"

"Of course," he whispered.

She smiled a little smirk, "Now, I do believe you owe your girlfriend an apology before you go back to explaining what you were explaining before."

A few kisses later and an accidental touch of their teeth and tongues, which stopped the kisses because of their embarrassment, Harry was in the same position as he was before, holding her hands and internally celebrating when he heard Hermione's stray thought about how romantic it felt.

"As I was saying," he said "remember this morning, when we got rid of the dark magic inside of me? We both had access to each other's memories and we didn't see them from our point of view, we saw them from a third person's point of view. What I'm saying is that, if you allow me back into your memories, your memories of last night where something clearly happened – we can find out how it happened."

Hermione's eyes lit up she beamed at him, "That's brilliant, Harry."

He blushed slightly, "Thanks," he mumbled. "I was thinking that we do that later, before we go home, maybe even when we're home because we can still access each other's memories and speak to each other because of the bond. Right now, we should discuss, other things, like how we're going to tell your mum and dad."

"We're doing no such thing," Hermione said instantly.

"Hermione –"

"No, Harry… it'll be too much for them to handle. Mum might be fine with it, understanding she is. But dad, he'll go berserk, I think we should keep this between the two of us." He nodded as he brought his hands around her. "As for Hogwarts," she continued, "we'll have to keep our glamour charms on." He nodded.

He closed his eyes as the breeze blew his hair and he looked into the distance, this was so beautiful. Not the background of the sunset they were watching, but the feeling he was experiencing. There were times that he withheld himself from feeling emotions, but the love he was feeling, the love he craved so much for was being given to him by the single most important person in his world, the person he loved, and the tears escaped his eyes as Hermione shifted her position so he was sobbing into her chest. He was loved. He was actually, genuinely loved.

"We're going to fix you, Harry, both of us – you and I – just how we like it, just how it'll always be… I love you." He just held her tighter as they watched the sunset, his head on her lap as she lovingly stroke his hair. He felt cherished.

They were only interrupted minutes later, just as Harry was preparing to escort her home, by four owls. Two were for Harry, and two were also for Hermione. The first letter to Harry was from the Ministry of Magic, congratulating him on his magical marriage and soul bond to Lady Hermione Jean Potter and informing him of his emancipation. The other was from Gringotts congratulating him on his soul bond and marriage to Hermione and asking him to come and claim the title of Lord for all of his houses.

For Hermione, there was one from the Ministry congratulating her on her magical marriage and soul bond to Lord Harry James Potter and explaining that she was now emancipated. And the other was from Gringotts, informing her that now that she has been emancipated, she should come for an inheritance check. An inheritance check that was requested by an ancestor she did not know.

They both looked at each other with wide eyes, they were husband and wife now in the magical world. Hermione grabbed his hand and in a moment of spectacular magic apparated them to a place he was unfamiliar with, but he knew they needed their privacy, after all, they had a whole set of new discussions that needed to be discussed. But both of them knew, regardless of what happened, that there were in this together, just how they wanted it to be. Besides neither of them really minded their apparent marriage. What was their problem was the people who would.

He didn't know where he was, but he walked over to Hermione quickly, and she accepted his hug, "This isn't going to change anything between us," he said and she was thinking the same thing. But, if he was being honest, things were definitely moving too fast.

"No, it won't," she said as she stepped back and looked lovingly into his eyes. "I still love you. This is just a step that the soulbond included that we didn't know we were going to take as yet. I can't believe we're married though," she said as she sat in a seat that appeared behind her. She smiled at his confused and startled expression, "welcome, Harry, to my great grand aunt's study."

A/N: I HATE DRAMA, SO DON'T EXPECT ANY. I won't allow Harry and Hermione to question their love for each other, they're going to discuss this and not walk away because they're scared of it.

Also, do you agree things are moving quite fast?