I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proofreader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.
To new readers of my works, please read my profile before you review the story, as it may answer some questions that you could have, including my upload schedule.
If you have not read the previous stories in this series, which are all on my profile, I strongly advise you do so, since you won't understand a lot of the coming story or the context that it is in.
I'm a little sorry that the last update was about a month ago, but I needed the time away from the story. That said, here's another chapter, though they might be a bit sporadic from now on.
When the Potter Twins got a letter back from their parents, it sounded as if they almost believed their kids. Although, as with every matter regarding Dumbledore and his influence, they both trusted the old man before their own flesh and blood. When they read it over breakfast, Harry crumpled it up and chucked it onto the floor with every ounce of frustration from the last few weeks. Hermione picked it up and stowed it away after getting the general gist of what it said from her boyfriend and his sister. Even Lily Potter, the independent, caring and understanding mother that she was, did not believe that Dumbledore was wrong in choosing Moody as a teacher. Hermione would have a look over the letter when the twins weren't around to hear it again. She had already begun to think of ways that they could expose what was happening in their defence lessons, if not to their parents, then certainly to one of the Professors that was compassionate enough to do something about it by going against the Headmaster. That meant ruling out Snape and the other heads of houses, Trelawney, Hagrid and after considering the rest of the teachers, they were too low on the totem pole or plain unable to do something, like Binns or Trelawney, who were both borderline incompetent. So with a grumble that she disguised as a cough, Hermione was back to square one on leaking information about the Unforgivables being used in a lesson with 14-year-olds.
Most of September passed with relative ease, apart from Moody's lessons, which, though they weren't as explicit and dangerous as their first one, were still gruelling, tiring and downright frightening at times. On the day before Hermione's birthday, they had been researching the Imperius Curse for the next lesson. To her horror, Hermione had to watch as Moody picked several people out of the class to try to fight off the effects of the Imperius for a minute straight. It was only when Harry managed to resist the curse for 3 minutes when the Professor stopped. And that was only because he wanted Harry to try to cast it on him. Hermione watched as Harry dropped his wand in sheer shock and shook his head, muttering under his breath. It was at that point where Moody had told him to speak up. Harry repeated himself clearer than before.
"No. I won't do it. And neither will anyone else here." He said, holding his head high, hoping that he sounded as confident as he wanted to be. On the inside, everyone could tell that he was more nervous than he had ever been in his entire life. At his retort, Moody cocked his head and stared at Harry, his electric-blue eye whizzing around, trying to take in the boy's face. Then he nodded and barked out a laugh.
"See that?! Absolute unwavering defiance to the dark arts! And to stand up to a teacher. Good. Now go and sit down. Malfoy, you next." That class went on for a few more minutes until Draco was released from the Curse and found himself scrambling down from a desk after doing a traditional Irish jig with a scowl and a blush.
The day after was quite possibly one of the 'somehow best'- as Hermione remarked- days of her life. It started with her realising that it was the weekend, so a smile managed to bloom on her face. That meant that the whole day could be used for anything she wanted. But she knew that like every year, Harry would have done something or have something planned. She was right.
Her hunch was confirmed when Harry turned up just a minute after she had come down from the dormitories with a shrunken bouquet, with each flower coloured some shade of blue.
"Flowers, Harry? That's… rather unlike you. Not unwelcome though. How did you find blue roses?" He quirked an eyebrow at her.
"I can do some charms, believe it or not." He exclaimed with a mock wounded expression. They laughed as he enlarged them for her. Soon, they grew until they were just large enough to fit with the heads peeking out of her bag's pocket.
"So, do you fancy a Hosgmeade date, sweetheart?" Harry emphasised the moniker with no small amount of sweetness in his voice. It just made her laugh deeply again, and again until they had laughed so much that people were starting to stare at them.
"Ok, you're on then. But we had better get some breakfast before people start to stare at us again. We might also have woken up the whole of Gryffindor." She snickered and let him lead her by the hand to the Great Hall, where some people had started to pile their plates with as much hot food as possible before heading out to the chilly nearby village.
It wasn't quite a blizzard when the carriages reached Hogsmeade but the snow was far from light. White sheets covered everything in sight, apart from the shop windows and doors, which witches and wizards were seen casting impervious charms at to keep the thick dredge of snow away. By the time they had waded through the snow to the Three Broomsticks, Harry and Hermione were caked in a light layer of frost that practically melted away the second the door creaked open. The couple was greeted with a warm and cheery atmosphere on that Saturday afternoon and with so few Hogwarts students coming to Hogsmeade in favour of staying in the warm castle, Harry and Hermione saw no one they knew. Even Zoe and Neville had opted to stay inside with their girlfriends, though the former was still a bit timid about been seen with a girlfriend. That would be a tough relationship to navigate through, especially given that Zoe was in Gryffindor and Daphne belonged to their rivals, the Slytherins.
After ordering two hot butterbeers, they found a table and sat, holding each other's hand as Hermione started to read through a book that her mother had sent over from home for her birthday. It was angled just enough towards Harry that he was able to see her eyes carefully take in each word, each sentence that made up the story. As she stuck her tongue out of the edge of her lips, he smiled in wonder.
"How did I ever, in a million years, deserve to have someone like you?" He murmured it so that only she could have possibly heard. And in recognition, he saw her lips quirk up and blush fall over her cheeks. A moment later, she slid the bookmark into the crevice of the pages and shut the novel. Harry cocked his head; it was unusual for Hermione to put down a good book if she was engrossed in it. And even though- multiple time in fact- he had stated that he didn't mind if she read on one of their dates, she put the book down and left it in her bag, placing it gently underneath the flowers that he had presented her with that morning.
"Well, I suppose it started when you defended a meek little bookworm on that train ride 3 years ago. I always knew that you'd be selfless and strong-willed like that. It should have struck me then and there that you cared more deeply than anyone else ever had."
Their drinks arrived just moments after they shared a short and tender kiss, which Madam Rosmerta smirked at. Over the years she'd seen lots of young and old couples on dates in her pub, but none had been as genuine as the more recent people she'd seen there. Harry and Hermione took a glance into the other's eyes and smiled as they sipped the hot beverage. Upon finishing the drinks they gladly paid and tipped a few sickles for the service and trudge back out into the snow. Hogsmeade was wonderful aside from the fact that it seemed to have the most unpredictable weather in Scotland. One day it could be scorching hot, the next could be tipping it down with rain and the next after that could be a hailstorm. It just wasn't explainable naturally. Harry drew his wand and made sure that no one could see him currently, not that the snow would allow them much vision besides the blanket of white. Without any hesitation beyond that, he cast a charm over both Hermione's and his head that would repel any snow and simultaneously warm them up. Then without warning, he grabbed Hermione's hand, careful not to be too harsh or forceful and pulled her along with him. His girlfriend was on such a happy high that she didn't resist one bit. Not even as he led her towards the Shrieking Shack. Although, when they got to it, she did look quite confused.
"Just wait and see," Harry whispered gently into her ear.
He told Hermione to close her eyes, then once they were shut, he took her by the hand and guided her into a specific spot. Under her feet, it felt different to the crunch of snow, but not unfamiliar. She also noted that the temperature had significantly risen again.
"Open them," Harry said softly. She did as he asked and was greeted with a wondrous sight. Instead of the drab and lifeless planks of wood that should have been the floor, she saw freshly mown grass and felt the scent of it and parchment waft to her. There was a shining orange sun in the distance, bathing her in a golden glow so bright she nearly had to cover her eyes. The snow was gone from her shoulders and she glanced to her right to see if Harry had the same baffled expression on his face. She already sensed that he didn't, but it didn't matter, as he wasn't there. He had somehow moved silently into the centre of what she assumed was a lovely meadow in some exotic country. He had taken his jacket, gloves and hat off, all in a crumpled heap next to him. She laughed and took her cold-weather outer layers off, leaving them next to Harry's but in a neat and folded tower, then walked over to her boyfriend who wore a goofy, yet sentimental smile now.
"What is this? How did you- I don't even know what to say." She stuttered. He was still smiling like a child in Honeydukes.
"Hermione Granger. I know that this looks like something stupid and cliché from a romantic comedy. It isn't. Remember last week when Neville and I went to 'practice'." He added air quotes over the word practice. "Well, this is what we were working on. I thought that it might be a nice change of scenery, no matter the weather because frankly, we get nothing like this in Britain." They laughed and heard just that, echoing off the walls of the Shrieking Shack behind the faux meadow. "This isn't for nothing. I wanted to give you something that's been burning a hole in my pocket for months. Since the start of summer actually." He reached into his right pocket and gingerly pulled out a blue velvet box. Hermione's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates and she gazed at him in disbelief.
"Harry that isn't what I think it is, is it?" He made a face to say 'Well, sort of' and opened the box.
"In the noble wizarding community, there are three main types of important rings. The first is a standard wedding band, you already know what that's for. Another is the House ring to show what Noble House you belong to, which can also give you access to certain things pertaining to the house. The final one is a promise ring." She was enraptured by the beauty of the ring and the implications of what he was explaining. "That is what this is. A ring with a silver band and a gem with a primary coloured hue is the symbol of a lifelong promise. Of commitment. And of a special bond. Normally, this would be an engagement ring, but I know that we are already as close or closer than a couple normally is for one of those." Hermione now wore the same smile that her boyfriend had, though she was noticeably tearier.
"I want this promise ring to show that no matter who we might become, and who we grow to be, we will be together. Always. And that's a promise."
When Harry and Hermione walked back into the common room, they had smiles brighter than Neville had ever seen and were inseparable for the rest of the day. When asked about the ring that Hermione now wore, all that they said was:
"We're not going to break this promise. This one is forever and further."
Author's Note: Yeah, it's a bit cliche and it most definitely hits on some of the same beats as a lot of my other 'romantic conversations' in this series. I'm not apologising for that. Besides, I've been dealing with a lot of shit in my life and to take my mind off that stuff, I read one book over the course of a week:
The Fault In Our Stars is a masterpiece. I'm sure you've heard that from anyone who's read it, but you're hearing it again. I only wish that I could forget it and experience it once more. To be honest, that's what inspired me to write this chapter because fuck it. Romance isn't getting old anytime soon, and The Fault In Our Stars is a shining (no pun intended) example of it. But then again, it is depressing as hell, as is any good tragedy, but there you go.