A couple of days pass by, he's sent on a flurry of promotional activities, as one last push before the beginning of the Quidditch season. We do make it out for a quick dinner one night, but we're both too tired to actually have it be anything other than two people eating. Then again, we go home to our couch and lie down together on it, unintentionally, and he strokes my hair. I kiss him good night and he kisses me back and it's such a warm, pleasant way to end the day. I always liked hugging him in the past, but now it's different, it's charged and he presses himself into me. It's absolutely flattering to feel his pulse speed up and his hips make contact with mine.

My newly hired editors tell me they can handle things themselves so I leave early, to get home and start cleaning before Mrs. Weasley gets there the following weekend. Harry's birthday.

Harry is already home, seated on the couch with his hands at his temples. His team manager, Sean, is standing with his arms crossed. I have a feeling he had said something Harry didn't like. Harry patted the seat at his side and I sat down.

"Have you guys thought about living in a gated community?" Sean asked. "With ward charms around the property?" I look curiously at Harry.

"Ummm. A mob of women tried to, well, I don't know what they were doing. But they wanted me." Harry blushed.

"We already have ward charms. No one can apparate inside the house." I say.

"People already know where Harry lives. They can come on foot, even if we make the house unplottable." Sean explained. "It's too late to disguise the property, they know you're here and they'll just find a way to get in."

"I don't want to move." I say bluntly. Harry blushes even harder.

"Do you want people congregating in your driveway?"

They're not here to see me, I want to say. They're just a tiny fraction of his fans and now I'm supposed to move behind the Berlin Wall in order to maintain a secure living environment.

"I don't want to move." I repeat stubbornly.

He ignores me and goes on. "Also, some of the mail has been a little on the negative side. You two are seeing each other?"

"Excuse me?" Harry jumps in.

"So that's a yes? You've been seen around town, there is speculation. The fan mail is a reflection of that."

"So we went out to have dinner, what's the problem?" I just watch the conversation unfold between them.

"And now you're together."

"No!" He exclaims then looks back at me. "I mean, uh, what difference does it make? I always got some funny mail anyway."

"Well, combined with the fact some of them know where you live and I'm not sure it's worthwhile to take any chances. I'm sure Hermione would agree."

I want to say that I'm not moving, but saying it three times within the span of 5 minutes might be seen as terribly repetitive. I could not believe that some crazy fans were making me move. And what is it with him denying me?

"Maybe we can sit down and talk about this more if there are more problems. I'm not moving right now, it seems very rash." I reason and they agree with me, so that I'm released and can go work cleaning upstairs. I had discovered a boggart under the sink earlier, and I wanted to get rid of it.

Twenty minutes later, the front door opens and closes and Harry makes his way upstairs. I'm getting ready to vanquish the boggart who had taken up residence in our bathroom

"Do you want to stay in? We can watch a movie, just sit back and relax."

"I thought you wanted to go out to that Thai place."

"Yeah, well, maybe we can lounge around here. Plenty of things to occupy our minds."

I don't really like the direction of this, but I give him leeway because I know he must have been pretty freaked out over the incident earlier and I can't blame him for wanting to avoid it. I take a deep breath and open the cabinet. The boggart bounds out, in the form of Harry with an ugly contemptuous sneer upon his face.

"Riddikulus!" I cry immediately, before the boggart did what I knew it would do. Harry stared.

"What was - "

"Sure, that sounds fine."

"What?"

"Staying home." I say.

Harry is still gaping at the space where the boggart stood. The boggart that took his form. I could tell he wanted me to explain why it was him, but I had no intention of revealing to Harry that my greatest fear was in fact, him rejecting and leaving me. Harry made several noises as if he were about to ask, but then I guess it clicks in his brain.

"Hermione, I would never - "

"Harry, I really need to get this place cleaned up. You could try and help, you know."

He accepts my change in subject, his face flushed.

"I was thinking, mom will be here in a couple of days and I haven't told her anything."

I use a spell to get the dirt out from between the tiles and I avoid his eyes..

"About us?"

"Yeah."

"And what? You want my permission?"

"Actually, I was thinking maybe we shouldn't say anything to her. She'll lecture us and she'll assume that there is something here that isn't there."

"Like what, Harry?" Wow, is it just me or is he trying to put me in storage for the next little while? I don't really appreciate that.

"You know, cohabiting and all."

"Fine, don't say a word to her." I say, and it's a little on the snappish side.

"I just think that we'd avoid a scene."

"Great."

"She's only here for a few days."

"Right."

*

I stand at the fireplace and call up the stairs.

"Hermione! She'll be here in a sec. You coming?"

After a moment, she appears at the top of the stairs.

"You should go yourself."

"Come on. You're as much her child as I am. She is looking forward to seeing you."

"She'll see me soon enough. You should have some time with her."

"Is this about the other day?" I ask carefully. I recalled vividly the boggart. And how I basically asked that I keep her in a closet until mother leaves. I spent the night mentally cursing myself for my stupidity.

"What about it?" she shrugs.

"Are you upset with me because I don't want to tell mother about us?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"Good," I breathe a sigh of relief.

"There's nothing to tell, is there?" she asks and disappears down the hall.

"Hermione, come on!" I call after her and mount the stairs two at a time. "You can't really expect me to tell my mother about how close we've become?"

"I wouldn't want you to tell her something that isn't true."

"Wait, so because I don't feel ready to discuss my love life with her, what, we just stop? She thinks of me as her son, and you as her daughter. Don't you think that would be a little weird to tell her?"

"I'm just saying that there's nothing to tell her," she reasons, standing in the doorway of her room.

"I don't think that's true," I respond.

"Evidentally, it's not important enough to tell her about."

"That's not what it is, Hermione!"

She motions for me to move out of the doorway.

"Go greet Mrs. Weasley, Harry. I have things to do."

"I wish you'd come with me."

"Believe me, you don't."

She shuts the door.

. . . .

There is a cloud of smoke, then Mrs. Weasley steps out of our fireplace.

"Mom!" I call and she looks up and grins.

"Harry!"

I engulf my mother in a hug and reach for her suitcase.

"Where's Hermione?" she asks immediately.

"Oh, she's sick," I say as nonchalantly as possible.

She raises her eyebrows but doesn't comment.

I lead her out to the well decorated hallway and she makes some remark about me being careful with my money that I choose to ignore and I show her up the stairs.

I open the room she would be staying in.

"I'm sorry Hermione didn't come see me."

"She's really really sick," I say by way of explanation.

"We can't go see her?"

"Ma, she's asleep, okay?" I say, probably a bit too harshly.

Her mouth tightens into a small line.

"There's no need to take that tone with me." She says quietly.

I sigh, "I'm sorry."

"Are you and Hermione having problems?" she asks.

"What kind of problems would we be having?" I sigh.

She shrugs, "It's hard living with somebody else, you know. Especially someone of the opposite sex."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I demand.

"There's bound to be some questions that arise," she says sagely.

"We're fine," I say.

Mom nods but her eyes betray her disbelief and I sigh again, annoyed.

"What?" she asks.

"How can you presume to know so much about Hermione and I when you haven't seen the way we are together?" I ask. "And don't say something trite like 'A mother knows these things', please."

"I wasn't going to say that," she retorts. "And you mind who you're speaking to, please."

"Sorry." I know I was being unnecessarily harsh. I was downright disrespectful and childish. But what Hermione said had bothered me, and I had to take out my confused feelings on someone.

"It's not being a mother that makes me know this, Harry. It's being a woman." She looks over at me and laughs. "What, you didn't consider me as such? I am, you know, even if I am your mother-figure. And I know what it is to live with somebody of the opposite sex."

I shake my head without responding.

"What makes you think there's any of that?" I ask.

My mother shakes her head.

"You didn't look at any other girls the way that you look at Hermione."

"And how is that?" I inquire.

"In a way that I noticed. In such a way that I had to speak to the two of you about your behaviours last time I saw you both together." I know she was referring to our shameless flirting I got her to partake in before the reporters.

"That was a joke, Mom."

She shakes her head again as I stand in the doorway uncomfortably.

"These things always have some basis in reality."

I don't say anything.

"Hermione!" she calls suddenly. "I don't care what you're busy with, get in here and give me a big hug this instant!"

In a moment, she walks past my into the room.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley." she smiles and embraces her.

"Hello, dear." Mother holds her tightly with a gentle smile, then pulls back and holds her at arms length, scrutinizing her carefully. The gentle, motherly smile changes into a knowing, almost amused, grin.

"I thought so," she nods.

*

She's looking at me oddly. I think they must have had a conversation about me, which leaves me in the precarious position of being the odd man out.

"I had to finish cleaning a little so the place looks presentable." I lie blatantly.

"Oh, you shouldn't have worried about it so much. It's your home, after all, not a museum."

I smile at her and glance at Harry, who is battling with trying to fit a suitcase into the closet.

"If you need extra blankets, let me know. Harry likes to keep this place cold at night and it can get pretty freezing sometimes."

Mrs. Weasley nods and smiles.

"I'm going to grab a shower, you know what it's like to sit in one place for hours on end. Then we can go to dinner."

She walks over to her suitcase and unzips it, looking for a change of clothing.

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley, you and Harry should catch up...You're here for a few days, I can get together with you guys anytime."

"Are you busy tonight? Oh, do you need to report to St. Mungo's to have your appendix taken out?" She asks.

"Uh, no."

"Then come along with us."

"Alright." I tried, but I had a feeling she'd shoot the idea down.

Harry and I leave her and head downstairs. He walks out the door first, and I keep at a safe distance, aware of him at all times and even more aware of her eyes on us.

"She gave me the third degree." He explains once we hit the bottom of the stairs.

"And what did you tell her?"

"Nothing."

"Terrific."

"I don't get you, Hermione. You said one day at a time, but now you expect me to tell my mother, who we both know has a particular view of what is and isn't appropriate behaviour, that I'm attracted beyond belief to my roommate, best friend for life, who also happens to be a sexy woman?"

"You never thought about any of this, Harry. Just that stupid list and chasing me around like a chicken whose head has been cut off. Then you get to where you wanted to be and what? You're bored of it? You don't want to deal with your mother? You don't want to deal with your fans hating it? You don't want to deal with me in public?"

"I'm not bored of you." He insists.

"And those other things?"

"Yeah, maybe you're right there are a lot of variables, but that doesn't change what I still want and always wanted."

"Just not for the next 4 days?"

"Have you told anyone?" He shoots back.

"No, which kind of works out well now, huh? Since I don't have to backtrack and all."

We're standing across from each other. I'm annoyed that he'd pursue me so diligently and then the instant I give him a tentative yes, he's shitting his pants over what it really means for him to be involved with me that way. I'm also hurt that he's got such a fair weather attitude about this - it's alright to kiss me goodnight in the dark so long as he keeps his hands to himself when mommy is around. He seems pissed off that I'm now back to denying we have anything at all, but worse yet, he looks like he knows that the things I've said to him today are all true, at least partially.

Mrs. Weasley makes it downstairs and we head into the kitchen to get her a drink. She tells us about Mr. Weasley and Charlie and Bill. We live near Ron's home, Ginny writes us frequently, and the twins live over their jokeshop in Diagon Alley, so Mrs. Weasley didn't need to catch us up on them. Then asks to meet the infamous Melissa. Neither of us is chatty and she notices.

"Please, don't be civil to one another on my behalf." She says and takes her tea out to the deck.

*