Chapter 43. Daughter Dearest

In answer, she pulled his face down gently to hers and pressed her lips to his softly before resting her forehead against his. "Always," she whispered.

There was a loud clearing of a throat from behind them and they then heard a disapproving male voice say, "If you're done holding my daughter, then?"

-   -   -   -   -   -   -   -   -   -

"Da-ad!" Hermione hissed as she spun around, backing up protectively in front of Harry.  Harry's heart was pounding wildly and his first instinct was to retort that no, he was not done holding Hermione, thank you very much.  However, now as his survival instincts kicked in, he felt that perhaps getting caught snogging a father's daughter was not a good thing and if he wanted to live to see another day, he ought to run for it.

Harry had always seen Mister Granger as a rather meek and quiet man; he was tall and willowy, with very short, light brown hair. Perhaps he'd always thought of this man as meek just because any time Harry had ever seen Hermione's parents, they'd been amongst wizards and had probably never really felt very comfortable when crossing over into the unfamiliar Wizarding world.  Either way, Hermione's father was currently anything but meek; he seemed to have grown taller and the cold look he had trained upon Harry was doing a very good job of appearing to be menacing. 

"Hermione," he said curtly, keeping Harry skewered upon his stare.  "I think you ought to go to your mother right now.  I'd like a word with your…friend."  Harry's stomach was churned with dread. 

"Dad," Hermione said, just as curtly.  "You are not going to have a word with Harry right now and furthermore, you'd do well to remember you are guest here in his house."  Hermione's head was raised in defiance and Harry wasn't sure which was more frightening: the protectiveness of the father for his daughter, or Hermione's fierce resistance and protectiveness of Harry. 

Slowly, Mister Granger's eyes slid from Harry (narrowed and glaring), to Hermione (wide and astonished).  "This is not up for discussion, Hermione," he said archly. 

"I'm glad we agree on that, Dad," Hermione said, not missing a beat and definitely not backing down. 

A crack! sounded then and Dobby, bouncing in front of Harry and Hermione with a worried look on his face, announced, "Harry Potter must come with Dobby at once, sir!"

Harry felt a tremendous sense of relief for a moment until Hermione asked, "What's wrong?  What happened, Dobby?"

Dobby just shook his head vigorously, making his ears flap.  "Oh no, Dobby is only needing Harry Potter.  Come with me, sir!  It is most urgent!" he said as he cracked again and reappearing at the other end of the room by the other set of doors and waving.  "Come on!  Harry Potter must hurry!"

Harry looked once at Hermione; she nodded firmly and said, "I need to speak with both of my parents right now, Harry.  We will talk later."  Harry could see out of the corner of his eye that her father had crossed his arms and was watching the whole scene closely.  

"Excuse me then," he said as he turned and followed Dobby.  Deep down, Harry already suspected that Dobby's 'urgent' matter was really a ruse to spare Harry an uncomfortable confrontation with Hermione's father.  He also made a note in his head to get Fred and George to make some Whizbangles that spelled out phrases like, 'Dobby is the best house elf ever!' and 'Harry Potter is most grateful to Dobby!'

"Come on Harry Potter!" Dobby called now from the staircase leading up the third floor.  "Dobby must show you something!  Harry Potter will be most pleased." 

Now Harry wasn't sure what Dobby meant.  Wasn't this just a ruse?  "Where are we going, Dobby?" he asked as they climbed the stairs. 

"Come on," Dobby said still bouncing up the stairs.  They didn't stop once they reached the third floor, however.  Dobby lead Harry to the end of the corridor on the landing and to a door which hid yet another staircase leading up the attic. 

The attic, Harry saw, was just one large room that ran the entire length and width of the house.  The ceiling was peaked and there were three small diamond-shaped dormer windows on each side.  The vast room was largely vacant but still held a great deal of miscellaneous stuff.  Many pieces of old furniture were sitting out and he even recognized a few of the nicer, less Slytherin and less mouldy pieces, which had been in the house before its Gryffindor make-over. 

"Over here, Harry Potter!" Dobby called out from one corner of the room.  Harry walked over and saw a great white sheet spread out over something upon the floor.  It was only about a foot off the ground and he wondered what was beneath it.  With a snap of his fingers, Dobby made the sheet vanish, revealing a small sea of red and white roses in numerous vases just sitting upon the dusty attic floor. 

"Wha…"  Harry didn't know what to say.

"Dobby knew Harry Potter was looking to get flowers," he said, nodding his head enthusiastically.  "Dobby helps!"

"But where?  How?"  Harry asked, grinning at Dobby and then looking back at the wondrous display of roses.  He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes as the deep, heady scent filled his senses.  "Dobby…this is incredible…how did you know?"

Dobby was beaming and positively glowing with Harry's pleased astonishment.  "Is this what Harry Potter wanted?"

"Yes, oh yes, Dobby," Harry said, nodding his head and grinning.  "How did you know I wanted to fill up Hermione's room with flowers?"

Dobby just beamed and looked about to cry he was so happy.  "Dobby got these this morning when I is going to the market.  Dobby knew Harry Potter would wants these just like Dobby knew Harry Potter wanted to leave the drawing room." 

Harry grinned at Dobby and nodded again.  "Yes, I…I can't thank you enough Dobby.  You are a very quick thinker.  How can we get all these into Hermione's room now?  Oh—but I don't want her father to see just now.  He's probably upset at me as it is."

"Dobby can move them with a snap, Harry Potter!"  Dobby's smile fell and he looked sternly at Harry, pointing a long finger and saying, "Harry Potter should be getting rest!  He is not getting enough sleep last night and needs to rest now.  Harry Potter should go rest and Dobby will take care of his roses and make sure no one is bothering Harry Potter!" 

Harry couldn't much argue with the fact that he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep and that he was tired.  He also couldn't argue with wanting to avoid Hermione's father for a while.  He sighed and said, "Yeah, I guess you're right, Dobby.  You'll put all these flowers all over Hermione's room then?  By tonight--after dinner?"  Dobby nodded vigorously.  "All right.  Thank you!" Harry called out as he turned to go downstairs. 

Once back in his room, Harry quickly picked up the Diagon Alley catalogue he'd been leafing through yesterday and pulled his moneybag out to place the order for chocolates.  He saw he could get a rush order discount if he sent his own owl to pick up the order and elected for this option.  There—chocolates and flowers, he said to himself.

"Here Hedwig," he said, rolling up a copy of the ordering form he'd used.  "You'll need to go to Diagon Alley and pick this up for me."  Hedwig eyed the scroll and, still keeping her head under her wing, reluctantly stuck out one leg for him to tie it on.  "I know you'd rather sleep, but you need to pick this up so I can properly apologize for being a prat." 

Hedwig looked at him like she well knew she couldn't argue with this and so she hopped over to the windowsill where she flew away as Harry cranked open the window. 

Flowers and chocolates are more than enough hopefully.  If the flowers are enough then I'll save the chocolates for later, Harry mused as he kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed.  And if I need to resort to jewellery…well, I'll need to find someone to help me pick that out, as I've not a clue.  Maybe I could just send Hedwig and tell her to find something…  He snorted at the ridiculous notion that he would resort to letting Hedwig pick out something and then began to yawn.  He had to force himself to sort through his whirling thoughts before he allowed himself to nap. 

He wondered what Hermione and her parents were discussing right now.  Her father didn't look too happy to see he and Hermione together when he found them.  And we'd barely kissed!  Imagine if he'd have seen…no—that was not something he wanted to imagine. 

Harry also realized he didn't know a whole lot about the Grangers except that they were muggles, lived—used to live—in Northampton, they were both dentists and Hermione was their only child.  He'd seen them at Kings Cross a few times and once in Diagon Alley before his second year.  Mister Weasley had always been intently focused on asking the Grangers all sorts of questions about being muggles and living in the muggle world.  Harry sighed as he rolled over on his side, pulling the covers up tight.  This holiday just wasn't turning out to be anything at all like he'd planned. 

"Harry," a soft voice whispered as a hand lightly carded through his hair. 

"Mmm," was his incoherent reply as he leaned into the touch.

"Har-ry," the voice—Hermione's—lilted and sang softly into his ear.  "You've slept the afternoon away, Harry.  It's time for dinner," she said. 

Harry stretched out beneath the covers and cracked open one eye to see Hermione sitting on his bed and leaning down over him, watching with a smile and a hand upon his chest.  He had one arm lying out atop the duvet and he lifted it now to her face; caressing her cheek and then sliding it around to cup the back of her neck.  He pulled her down to him and levered himself up to meet her mouth with his.  He was hungry for her and he quickly deepened the kiss to seek more of her to taste.  His body was quickly responding and just as thoughts of arriving fashionably late to dinner had begun to form in his mind, Hermione pulled back and gave him one last short, chaste kiss before standing up and announcing, "We need to go to dinner."

Harry groaned and dropped back into his pillows.  He yawned then and reached over to pluck his glasses from his bedside table.  As he slipped them on his face he recalled the events of morning and the fact that her parents—including a rather protective father--were here now. 

He asked, "How'd everything go with your parents?"  He looked the clock on the mantle and said, "Were you talking with them all afternoon?  Oh god—what does your dad want to talk to me about?  I get the feeling he really does not like me."

Hermione laughed and quickly sobered, saying, "Yes, well, you've been spared this afternoon because Dobby told everyone you were sleeping and needed rest.  Remus has been out most of the afternoon, too.  Dobby said the both of you spent all of last night up by the fire?" 

Harry nodded.  "Yeah, although we fell asleep after a while.  It was a very long night."

"Well, Dobby wouldn't let anyone up here and made sure you were both allowed to rest.  But now, well, I—well—" She seemed to be searching for the words to say and she sighed heavily.  "I should warn you," she said, making Harry look over warily as he slid out from beneath the covers to stand on the other side of the bed.  "My… my dad is…Harry, he's always been very protective of me," she hedged. 

Harry waited for more of an explanation and walked over to step into his shoes.  "And?" he prompted.

"Well, like when I came home after fourth year and told my mum about meeting Viktor.  She was, well—concerned is a good word.  She just thought he was a bit old for me.  But it really didn't matter because I told both Mum and Dad that I didn't have time to bother with a long distance relationship or anything like that." Hermione sighed and wrung her hands as she sat upon the footbench at the end of the bed.  "Mum wanted to give me The Talk—you know," she threw Harry a dark look, "but I got out of it by saying I wasn't old enough to worry about that sort of thing.  Apparently, that was exactly the right thing to say because she was very happy and told Dad and he was very pleased and they never brought it up again."

Harry sat down beside her and saw that she was very nervous.  She only wrung her hands, worried her bottom lip and rambled on like this when she was very nervous. 

"They've asked, you know," she said, looking at him.  "About you and even Ron.  Asked me why I never had any friends who were girls.  It's a good thing we have been friends for so long; if I'd only started talking about you two when I got to be bit older, they'd have pulled me from Hogwarts years ago."  She gave a high, strained laugh.  "They still think it's a bit dodgy that it's a co-ed school with girls and boys all in one House and without any chaperones living in the House to keep us apart."  Hermione studied her hands.  "So yeah, I expect my dad to grill you a bit." 

Harry fleetingly wished for a Skiving Snackbox so that he might fake illness and avoid dinner and her father henceforth. 

"I told them we're serious," Hermione said quietly, not looking up.  "They asked whether you and I were serious.  I…I didn't know what to say."  She took a deep breath and looked at Harry before saying, "Harry, I don't know how to tell them and explain about the war and everything that's going on.  I don't really want them to know; I don't want them to worry.  They only think in terms of their world and they just don't understand how things are.  Please Harry…don't worry about this and just humor me and put up with my dad?"  Without waiting for an answer, she dropped her head in her hands then and groaned loudly.  "Arrgh!  I hate this!"

"What?" Harry asked, slightly startled by her sudden reaction.

"My parents!" she wailed into her hands.  She slapped her palms down onto her knees then and looked at him as she said, "They drive me crazy!  I had forgotten how difficult it was for me to be around them both.  I haven't spent more than a few short weeks with them for well over a year and half now.  It's just so…they're so…stifling!"  She was up now, arms crossed and pacing the room in front of the fireplace.  "They're asking questions now, too; questions about our world and why they can't go home.  I haven't figured out yet how to tell them the house has been destroyed."  Harry gaped at her.  "Oh I told them there was an 'attack' and they were lucky they were out of the country but…  They're suspicious now about what's going on that's so dangerous and asking how I can be safe.  They're scared, Harry.  I saw it."  She stopped and looked desperately to Harry for help.  "I showed them all the things I can do with magic.  I thought they'd be excited, as I've never been able to do magic in front of them.  Harry…they looked like they were scared of me.  I could see it."

Harry blinked.  He'd never imagined how it must be for a muggleborn like Hermione who had to go off and separate from a family that loved her and cared about her.  He'd had no such experience with the Dursleys and had always seen magic and the Wizarding world as his escape.  He stood and walked to Hermione.  He pulled her into an embrace and said, "I'm sure they were just overwhelmed." 

The walk downstairs was very short as Remus stopped them just outside the drawing room.  "Hey, I think we're going to eat up here.  I just worked out putting on a set of wheels onto Tonks' bed so she can join us if we stay on this floor.  Sound okay?" 

Hermione nodded absently and Harry noted that she looked pale.  Harry also nodded and felt a pit in his stomach that vaguely resembled the dread he felt just before he knew he'd be going out to face down a Hungarian Horntail.  But her father can't be worse than a dragon, can he?

"Harry," Remus said.  "Help me wheel Tonks in, would you?" 

Harry nodded, relieved for a brief delay.  Best not to walk in there with Hermione anyway, he thought to himself.  Distance yourself from her a bit and maybe he'll forget it was me he saw snogging her.  Yeah, that's it… I'm so doomed. 

"You all right?" Remus asked as they walked to Tonks' room. 

"Yeah.  No.  She's going spare," he said, feeling a bit spare himself.  "Hey Tonks."

"Hermione?" Remus asked. 

"Yeah."  The gnawing feeling was eating away at the inside of this stomach.  "Her parents know we're together and her dad apparently wants to kill me—no, I mean grill me.  With questions." 

"So we heard," Tonks said.  She was propped up in her bed like before but now the bed had been shrunk a bit in its width, had two side rails up by her head to keep all the pillows on and there were now four wheels on each corner.   "We could hear Hermione and her dad having a row in the hallway before she made him go into their room earlier.  It doesn't sound like he's very keen on his little girl having a boyfriend," she said with a grimace. 

Harry pulled a face and sighed dejectedly.  "Yeah.  How are you doing, Tonks?" 

"Not too bad today."

"Harry," Remus said.  "Grab the foot of her bed and lead it through the doorway."

"I could do this myself, you know," Tonks said rolling her eyes and watching Harry grab the foot rail on the bed. 

"Yeah right," Remus said with a laugh.  "You can barely manuever your own body without banging into something.  You think we're going to let you careen down hallways and into walls with this thing?"

Tonks harrumphed and crossed her arms as they wheeled her out into the hallway and angled the bed around to go into the drawing room.  She eyed Harry and asked, "You worked out how you're going to apologize yet?  It'd be the worst time now to have Hermione be—" She looked over Harry's shoulder.  "Oh hello, Hermione!  You going to introduce me yet or is the cripple too unimportant to meet your parents?"

Harry turned over his shoulder and saw Hermione standing with her arms crossed, just in front of her mother, who was looking concernedly at Tonks, and her father who was standing almost exactly like Hermione with his arms crossed and a rather displeased expression. 

"Tonks—meet my parents.  Mum, Dad—meet Tonks.  She's not a cripple like she claims," Hermione said as she moved a chair out the way at one end of the dining table to make room for the modified bed. 

"Miranda," her mother said, stepping forward and offering a hand to Tonks.  "Philip is my husband.  I believe we just met your mother, Andy?"

"Yeah," Tonks said, looking over and spying her mother sitting on a sofa by the fireplace and staring unseeingly at the enchanted Christmas tree.  "Mum, we're going to eat now!" she called out. 

"Isn't 'Tonks' your surname, though?" Hermione's mother asked. 

"Oh, well yes, but I'll hex anyone who calls me by my first name so just call me 'Tonks'."

"Yes, and I'm Andy."  Harry saw Tonks' mum standing up behind her daughter now and extending her hand to Hermione's mum who looked slightly bewildered. 

"Yes," she said slowly.  "We just met, I believe.  A few moments ago?"

Harry felt like he was caught in a surreal reality where nothing at all seemed quite right.

"Let's be seated, shall we?" Remus said a tad too cheerfully.  "Dinner should arrive just as we are seated.  Andy?  Would you like to sit here beside your daughter?"  He pulled out a chair and Andromeda Tonks, with a very dignified air, seated herself at the table and folded her hands in her lap primly. 

Remus gestured to the seats on the other side of the table to the Grangers.  Her father gave Harry a narrow-eyed look and then turned to Tonks and said, "So, Andy, Tonks, I'm not exactly clear…who are you and why are you both here?"

"Dad!" Hermione said.

"What?" he said innocently.  "I'm not sure about anything to do with where we are or whose house this is.  You haven't exactly been forthcoming with answers."

"Philip, I think we can let this drop for now and just enjoy a nice meal."

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him around the table.  "Sit here beside me," she said through gritted teeth.  She sat beside her mother and Harry sat at one end of the table, opposite Tonks. 

Remus, nodding around at the table, sat opposite the Grangers and beside Andy, just to Harry's right.  "Well, I guess I can answer some questions about the house," he said as dishes of food and pitchers of drink appeared on the table.  The Grangers leaned back a bit, surprised at the sudden appearance of the food.  "Ah, yes, sorry about that," Remus said.  "I should have warned you."

"The house elves, they serve the meals with magic," Hermione said, not looking at her parents, but starting in on dishing food onto her plate.  "Most of the Wizarding world keeps them as slaves, but Dobby and Winky are paid workers.  Salad, Harry?"

Harry nodded, allowing her to fill his salad plate. 

"So, this house?" Mrs. Granger asked. 

"Ah, yes," Remus said, pouring himself and Andy a glass of wine.  "It technically belongs to Harry's godfather.  However, he gave it to the Order to use before his unfortunate death last year."  Remus sighed and looked down into his glass of red wine, swirling it. "He hasn't been declared dead and we're afraid he didn't leave a will to speak of.  But if things went according to the law as it stands and all else went smoothly, Harry, would inherit the house as his next of kin."

"Wine, mother?" Hermione asked, turning primly towards her mother and holding the bottle. 

Her mother looked distracted a moment, nodded and then looked back to Remus and Harry.  "But why hasn't your godfather been declared dead yet?  You said he passed away last year."  She looked at Harry and said, "I'm very sorry to hear about your loss."

Neither Harry nor Remus said anything in immediate answer and Hermione brightly asked, "So, Mum, Dad, tell me all about Venezuela.  What did you do there?"

Harry cringed at the sudden and blatant attempt to change the subject and saw her parents exchange a look before her father said, "Hermione, you know it's impolite to interrupt a conversation.  Now, we were talking about your godfather, Harry, weren't we?  You were going to tell us why he's not been able to be declared dead yet after he passed aw-"

"He didn't pass away," Harry said curtly.  "He was murdered and there's no body to show for it."

Mister Granger frowned at him and asked, "Then how do you know he's dead?  You sound rather sure of yourself but if there's no body…"  He had the same maddening imperious tone that Hermione sometimes got when she just didn't think something was making sense. 

"Because I watched as he was murdered," Harry said shortly as Remus inhaled sharply.  That seemed to make Mister Granger speechless for a moment at least, Harry noted with some satisfaction. 

Tonks took the opportunity to chime in.  "Sirius—Harry's godfather—was my mum's cousin," she said gesturing with her fork towards her mum who was serenely eating and not looking bothered at all by the topic at hand.  "The house is also the Headquarters for the Order, which I'm sure you had to memorize in order to get in here, right?"

"Yes," Mrs. Granger said slowly.  "We weren't really sure what that was all about.  I imagine that's the reason this house if safe for you all?  Hermione told us when she came here last summer that the house would be hidden.  One minute there was nothing, then we read this slip of paper and suddenly—poof—there's this house!"

"Yes, Mum," Hermione said archly.  "I already told you.  It's called the Fidelius Charm and I explained at least three times how it works." 

Tonks waved this off, smiling.  "Yeah, but Hermione, no one listens to you when you get on a lecturing rant about some spell."  She turned to the Grangers.  "We don't blame you for tuning her out.   But you asked why I was here and my mum.  See, I'm part of the Order and as I took a curse here," she gestured to her boneless legs, "I'm needing a place to recover for about a day or two."

"Try a week," Remus corrected.

"Whatever," Tonks said, sending a wink at Harry.  "I'm a quick mender. My mum is here because she loves her little ole daughter—me—so much she just doesn't want to be away from me," finished with a smirk.  "Right Mum?"

"Yes dear," her mother replied with out even looking up. 

Harry noticed that Hermione was rather viciously stabbing pieces of lettuce and greens with her fork as he himself was only pushing around the food on his plate; not much of an appetite at all. 

Her father was looking shrewdly at Harry and he braced himself as Mister Granger began to talk.  "So, may I ask who killed your godfather?  Was it this Dark Lord fellow who Hermione's talked about?"

Andromeda Tonks looked up then at Mister Granger and said, "Oh, it was my sister." 

Harry blinked.  He just could not comprehend how bizarre this meal was thus far.  And they were only on the salad. 

Mrs. Granger then, very politely, asked Tonks, "So what did happen to you?  You said you were cursed, was it?"

"Oh yeah," Tonks said dismissively.  "Curse shattered the bones in my legs and so they took them away.  I've got to let the tissue or something or other rest and recover before they'll allow Harry to give me the stuff to grow my bones back.  So, Harry, when did you ever have to regrow any bones?  What happened?"

Harry smiled wryly and explained.  "I took a Bludger to the arm and unfortunately Gilderoy Lockhart thought he'd fix it up for me.  He vanished all the bones in my arm and hand even.  It took a whole night in the hospital wing to grow them all back."

"Did you still catch the Snitch?" Tonks asked, grinning.   Harry smiled and nodded.  Tonks turned to the Grangers and said, "Harry's the Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor.  He was the youngest Seeker in over a century at Hogwarts and he owns a Firebolt!  He's a brilliant flyer."  Tonks grinned cheekily at Harry across the table. 

"Cheers," he said laughing softly. 

"So," Mister Granger said, turning to Harry.  "I'm not completely sure what that all means but it sounds like you're a rather popular boy then, Harry.  Star athlete and all that.  You have a lot of girlfriends then?"

"Philip," Mrs. Granger said quietly out of the side of her mouth. 

"Well, it stands to reason!" he said defensively.  He gestured around the house and said, "This house appears that even if it's not technically yours, you're still well to do.  According to Hermione, well, I recall her telling us several years ago about you—you're rather famous among your kind, aren't you?  I'd imagine a boy like yourself would have girls left and right."

"Dad!"  Hermione said scathingly, glaring down past her mother at him.  "That's enough!"

"Oh, Harry's never been linked in the papers to anyone but Hermione," Tonks said, obviously thinking she was being helpful. 

"Papers?" Mrs. Granger asked with an arched eyebrow and looking from Tonks to Harry. 

"Your affairs make the society pages, do they?" Mister Granger asked with a glare at Harry.  Every question and comment from his mouth seemed to have no safe answer and Harry wondered if there was a spell he could use to make himself ill so he could leave. 

"Dad…" Hermione said in a low warning tone. 

Mister Granger turned to give his daughter a withering look.  "I believe you agreed that I could talk to your…boyfriend and get to know him?  No?"

"I never said you could be an arse about it!" Hermione shot back, making her mother flinch as she was seated in between father and daughter.

"Hermione, dear, that is not polite," she admonished.

"Neither is Dad!" Hermione said, her voice rising shrilly.  "I would never act like he is now at someplace where I was a guest!  He's being incorrigible and rude!"

Her father blustered and puffed himself up.  "Well—I—"

"Philip," Mrs. Granger said, a hand on her husband's arm.  "Hermione is right. We are being terribly rude."  She turned to Harry and, smiling politely, asked, "Harry, as you can guess, my husband and I would very much like to get to know you better.  Our daughter has spoken of you so very often over the years and we've never had a real opportunity to get to know you.  Might we agree to allow our dinner conversation to go on more smoothly and agree for the four of us to sit together and have our own chat after dinner?" 

Harry swallowed a small mouthful of salad with some difficulty and forced himself to nod and answer, "Yes, Mrs. Granger.  That sounds like a fine idea."  Hermione shot him a commiserating look. 

The salad plates then disappeared from the table and were replaced by the next course.  Tonks, eager to steer the talk back onto something enjoyable, insisted that Mister Granger try the excellent wine.  As she poured, she gave Harry a wink and offered to explain the game of quidditch to the Grangers. 

The rest of the dinner passed with relative ease.  They discussed quidditch, the courses taught at Hogwarts, the various careers a witch or wizard might pursue and heard several descriptions of various countries the Grangers had visited over the past years.  Mister Granger, by comparison to his initial surliness, seemed positively subdued now. 

Harry, despite being lulled into an uneasy calm throughout the dinner, still felt a certain dread at the impending 'chat' with Hermione's parents.  He was used to adults needling him and treating him rudely; the Dursleys and Professor Snape came immediately to mind.  However, he'd never cared one way or the other to avoid offending either the Dursleys or Snape when answering their rude and belligerent questions.  He had a feeling it would be preferable to win the Grangers' approval rather than retort rudely as he'd done when he'd been pressed to answer about Sirius.  That was definitely going to take some discipline. 

As the pudding was cleared from the table, Harry noted that both Tonks and Remus were sending him sympathetic and supportive looks.  Remus, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder announced he would help Tonks back to her room.  She pouted a bit about being sent back to her room but cheered up when Harry said he'd help move her. 

"I'll be right back," he said to Hermione and her parents as he rose to help Remus manuever the wheeled bed. 

"You want to hook me up with some of that Skele-Gro yet, Har?" Tonks asked as he swung the foot of the bed around. 

"You're not ready, Tonks," Remus said exasperatedly. 

As soon as they cleared the doorway from the drawing room to the hallway, Tonks said, "Well, Harry, I do not envy you.  But—you can thank me later."

"Why?"

She grinned and winked at him. "Because I slipped a Calming Draught into Mister Granger's wine glass."

Harry gaped at her.  "Tonks!" he said in a low whisper. 

"How could you not have knocked the glass over, is what I'm wondering," Remus said wryly as he pushed the bed into her room. 

"I know!" Tonks said laughing.  "I was surprised myself!  But, well, I had to help our dear Harry."

Harry just shook his head.  "I can't believe you did that!"  He grinned then and said, "Thank you."

"No problem," Tonks said.  "I gave him enough to last him the night.  In fact, I think we can arrange for Dobby and Winky to make sure it gets into his food regularly if it comes to it.  Believe it or not, it's fairly common to have to do when hanging out with muggles.  I know when we used to visit my dad's family it was common to have to slip them a Calming Draught.  It's just that our world is very different.  We don't take things as seriously like they do sometimes.  Look at me—having the bones in my legs shattered and then removed would be a very serious thing if I were a muggle.  But for us, it's just wait a few days—"

"—week," Remus interjected.

"And it's good as new," Tonks said, glaring at Remus.  "I could see they thought Quidditch sounded like some brutal game and it is really.  But getting hurt—breaking an arm or whatnot just isn't as critical an injury as it is in their world.  It's difficult to take in all the things that we do and regard as everyday stuff when, to a muggle, they would be very dangerous."

"Hermione hasn't told them a whole lot about what's been going on with the war," Harry said.  "She hasn't even told them about their house being destroyed."

Remus grimaced and asked, "She's got to tell them.  I'm a bit surprised McGonagall didn't tell them but I suppose she might not have had the time or thought Hermione would rather tell them."

Harry shook his head ruefully.  "I don't know but I'm hoping that doesn't come up just now."

"Good luck!" Tonks called out as her mother entered her room and Harry left. 

The few steps it took to walk from Tonks' room to the drawing room seemed like a mile but Harry forced himself.   Gryffindor's for the brave, he reminded himself. 

Hermione was carrying a small low table over to the sofas by the fireplace when Harry walked in.  "Oh, Harry, can you grab the tea tray from the table and bring it over?" she asked. 

Harry complied and, as he carried the tray over, he saw her parents had already seated themselves on one of the sofas.  Hermione was standing nervously beside the small table she had just set down.  As he set the tray upon the table, she immediately poured two cups for her parents.  As soon as Harry sat upon the opposite facing sofa, she handed him two cups and sat beside him, taking one cup for herself.   

Harry noted Mister Granger seemed intently focused upon his tea and that Mrs. Granger was merely watching Hermione and him.  Hermione was nervously arranging a napkin over her knee and balancing her cup and saucer upon it.

"Philip?" Mrs. Granger said, turning to her husband.  He looked up from his tea, inquiringly to his wife.  "You've been very quiet most of dinner, Philip.  Didn't you have questions for Harry?"  She turned to Harry and apologized, saying, "I'm sorry.  I think he's either overtired and just sulking after I said he was rude or he drank a bit too much wine." 

"Mother, why don't you just ask your questions," Hermione said shortly.  "I'd prefer your leading this interrogation rather then riling up dad again."

Mrs. Granger frowned a moment at her daughter and then, after noticing that her husband was back to staring into his teacup, asked Harry, "Well, I suppose I'm just curious to get to know my daughter's boyfriend.  We hardly ever get to see her as you know.  This world has completely absorbed her so that even when she was at home, all she would talk about was Hogwarts this and Hogwarts that."

"Yes, I imagine that's difficult for you at times," Harry said politely.

Mrs. Granger smiled sadly and looked at her daughter.  "Yes, we miss her very much.  It's even more difficult to see her so rarely and every time we do see her, she seems to have grown up so very much since the last time.  It seems like it was just yesterday when our little girl was selected to go off and learn to use this special gift she had.  She tells me you also grew up in our world, is this correct?"

"Yes, I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle.  They're muggles.  I never knew I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter."

"And what do they think of all this?"

"Er, well they're certainly supportive of me going away to Hogwarts," Harry said honestly as Hermione snorted. 

"Your parents were both—"  Mrs. Granger waved her hand around.

"A witch and wizard?" Hermione asked exasperated.  "Yes Mum, I already told you that."

Mrs. Granger frowned at Hermione and shot a concerned look at her husband.  "So, Harry, you've been friends with Hermione for a few years now, yes?"

"Oh yes, since we were eleven.  Best friends really."

Mrs. Granger smiled genuinely at this and Harry felt a little knot of unease loosen.  "She's told us you two began to date this summer.  How did that come about?  The change from best friend to dating, I mean?"

"Oh, er, I guess," Harry looked at Hermione.  "I guess it just sort of happened."  He paused a moment and remembered the night, in this very room, when they'd first kissed.  Explain…you want them to approve of you, he reminded himself.  "This summer was one of the first times we'd ever spent time together with just the two of us.  Usually our friend Ron was always around.  When I'd arrived here to Headquarters, I was still mourning Sirius quite a bit and I guess, well, I guess Hermione helped me work through some of that and we just grew closer." 

Hermione reached out and grasped Harry's hand that was on his thigh.  He clutched back at hers and smiled at the calm that flowed between them even though he suspected Hermione was even more nervous than he was.   

Mrs. Granger, still wearing her polite smile, nodded and looked over at her husband.  "Philip?" she asked.  Harry saw that Mr. Granger seemed to be nodding off, his head lolling forward and his chest rising and falling rhythmically.  Mrs. Granger looked back at Harry and Hermione.  "He's obviously overtired.  I suppose that explains why he was so irritable earlier.  I do hope you'll forgive him, Harry.  We've both been dreadfully homesick and we thought that when Minerva was picking us up, that we'd be going home.  But she said we had to come here and that everything would be explained.  He's been a bit testy all day."

"That and he's overprotective and thinks he gets approval and veto power over my life," Hermione said bitterly, glaring at her father. 

"Hermione," her mother said disapprovingly.  "You must admit it was a bit of a shock to realize our baby girl is—"

"I'm not your baby, Mother," Hermione said stiffly.  "I am an adult here and you'll only push me away if you insist on sticking your nose in where it doesn't need to be." 

Harry squeezed her hand in an effort to support her as much to calm her down.  Her outbursts were making him feel like they were all walking across thin ice.  Hermione squeezed back then stood up abruptly and set her cup of untouched tea down.  She took the tilting cup from her father's hand, then drew her wand and said, "Mobilicorpus."  Her father's sleeping form lifted then, making her mother give a small noise of alarm.  "I'm taking him to his room.  You talk about me while I'm gone," Hermione said acidly to her mother.

Harry watched as Hermione floated her father out of the drawing room.  The knot in his stomach was constricting again.  He heard Mrs. Granger give a defeated sigh. 

"Do you think it would best if we left, Harry?" she asked quietly. 

"What? No.  Definitely not."  Thoughts of the current events in the muggle world made the idea of Hermione's parents leaving Grimmauld Place now seem like a very bad idea.  He knew Hermione had been missing her parents not just a few days ago.  He couldn't even understand the animosity she currently seemed to hold towards her parents.  "No, I know she was missing both of you more than once since the holidays have been drawing near.  You should stay here."

"Do you think it's us being here in your world that has her resenting us like this?"

Harry thought about it a few moments and then shrugged.  He didn't know.  "She's very nervous since this afternoon," he said.  "I…I don't know why."

"We are nervous, Harry," Mrs. Granger said.  "She won't answer any of our questions straight out.  She's fiercely refused to tolerate any questions about her 'private life' as she calls it—meaning when we've asked about you and her together.  She won't tell us why we can't go home now that we're back in the country and we don't understand why everyone around the table seemed uncomfortable with answering our questions about this house we're staying in.  Please, Harry," she said, leaning forward and setting aside her teacup.  "Please tell me what's going on and if we should be concerned?  We were told…before we left this summer…we were told that your world might be going to war."

Harry felt distinctly put on the spot.  Should they be concerned?  He was wanted dead by Voldemort and Hermione was pretty surely known to be the person most important to him.  She was certainly a target herself.  But was there anything they could do?  They couldn't take her and run—magic could easily traverse oceans and continents.  Could they just hide?  They could but Hermione wouldn't.  She would never run and hide like a coward.  He had to say something. He looked up and leaned forward, setting aside his own teacup.  He noticed that Mrs. Granger had the same light brown eyes and heart shaped mouth that Hermione had.

"Honestly?" he said.  Mrs. Granger nodded.  "We are at war.  Open war.   You're at the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix—we're the lead of the resistance to this war brought on by Voldemort.  I know this must sound…incredible to you."

"It certainly doesn't sound safe!" Mrs. Granger said, her voice rising shrilly, sounding an awful lot like Hermione when she got upset. 

"You are safe here," Harry said firmly.  "We're all safe here."

"What about at school?  And how can you know you're safe?"

"Hogwarts is the safest place in all the Wizarding world," Harry said resolutely.  "This house is safe because of all the protections that have been put on it."

"We were told we should leave the country for a while because we wouldn't be safe in our own home—we love to travel and never imagined how homesick we'd get.  If she's safe here or Hogwarts, why do we have to worry?  Why can't we go home?"

Harry did not want to be the one to tell Mrs. Granger that their house had been destroyed.    He was saved from answering though when Hermione walked back into the room quietly and said, "Mum, the house was destroyed.  There's nothing there."  Hermione stood and watched her mother's reaction.  "If you and Dad would have been there this summer when it was attacked, you'd both be dead," Hermione said in a whisper as she sat down beside her mother. 

Harry had to look away or feel like he was intruding as he watched Hermione and her mother embrace and both cry tears.  He had half a mind to Disapparate and leave them there to work this out alone.  He deeply suspected her parents; her mother at least, wasn't so much intending to interrogate him and his relationship with Hermione as much as she wanted to know what was going on in her daughter's life.  He recalled Remus telling him just last night, that you can't understand what you don't know.  It seemed to Harry that Hermione just wasn't sure how to let her parents know what they needed to understand. 

"Mum," Hermione said, sniffling.  "Look, I know… I heard you talking before I came in.  I…listen, I miss you and Dad--really I do.  I miss talking to you like we used to and telling you everything."

"I do, too, Hermione," her mum said, tearing up again.  "Why won't you tell me about what's going on?  It only makes me worry more."

"Oh, Mum, it's not that I don't want you to know what's going on.  I just don't want you to worry.  I don't want you to get all worked up and go over these things that you have no control over."

"Like you?"

Hermione laughed through her waning tears.  "Yeah, like me.  I'm seventeen, Mum.  I know where I need to be in my life and where I want to go.  It's not up for discussion, debate or a deciding vote upon mutual consensus.  It's my life."  After a few moments, Hermione said, "If I promise to tell you everything about what is going on, all about our world and this war, why I need you and Dad to remain safe somewhere so I don't worry about you, then…then you need to promise me that you'll respect my decisions.  You don't need to agree with them or even understand them but you can't second-guess these decisions and me constantly."

Harry watched Mrs. Granger look down her nose at her daughter intently.  Hermione stared back defiantly and he thought they might be about to argue again.  Instead, they both burst out laughing.  He had no idea what that was about. 

Harry sat there, debating several times whether he could just slip out, while Hermione told her mother nearly everything.  She told her mother who Voldemort was and about his Death Eaters.  She told him how she, Harry and Ron had helped stop Voldemort from getting the Sorcerer's Stone in their first year and how Harry had been used to help resurrect Voldemort at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.  She told her mother how last year, Voldemort tried to use an obscure form of magic to lure Harry to their Ministry to get a prophecy that made Voldemort want to kill Harry in the first place.  She told her mother about Sirius and how he was known to be a convicted mass murdered but whom she and Harry helped save only to be killed last year.  She told her mother about her and Harry being part of the Order and that the Order was dedicated to bringing down Voldemort.  She told her mother about the things they called Dementors and how these creatures were now being allowed to feed upon and murder muggles of all sorts across the country.  She told her mother about other families that had been attacked and that for a muggle, there simply was no defense to be had against a wizard with no compunction for taking human life. 

Mrs. Granger listened through it all in relative silence until Hermione had talked herself hoarse.  She had flitted amongst varied expressions throughout Hermione's storytelling.  She often looked over at Harry when Hermione would mention him and he'd just nod to confirm something, making her look of shocked disbelief often fade into horror, sadness or anger.  A couple of times, Harry thought Mrs. Granger looked about ready to bundle Hermione up and run fast and far away from this awful world Hermione was describing.

Eventually, Hermione summed it all up by saying, "Mum, I wouldn't leave Harry to face this all alone or without me for anything in the world—anything.  Even if I didn't feel this way, I've got a responsibility to help in this war.  I can make a difference and I will."  Crookshanks, who had arrived halfway through and settled upon Hermione's lap, now jumped off and onto the floor to exchanged Hermione's lap for a spot in front of the fire. 

"Well," Mrs. Granger said after everything.  "I'm not so sure I want to be the one to tell your father all of this."  Hermione's eyes went wide.  "In fact, maybe I'll just tell him only what I think he needs to know.  What do you think?" 

Hermione nodded immediately and her mother laughed.  "All right.  He should be properly ashamed now about drinking too much wine and passing out."  She looked at Harry and said, "Hopefully a night of rest will do his disposition wonders."  She looked back at Hermione.  "Will you walk me to our room?  I feel like I keep getting turned around in this house."  They rose and Mrs. Granger bid Harry a good night. 

Sitting there alone in the drawing room, watching Crookshanks sprawled out like a ginger rug upon the hearthstone, Harry wondered just how well Mr. Granger's disposition would improve come morning.  He couldn't help but hope Tonks had several doses of Calming Draught handy if they came to be needed.  A few minutes later, Hermione came back into the room and stood in front of Harry, breaking into his wandering thoughts. 

"You coming upstairs?" she asked, pushing his fringe back from his forehead with her hand and then running it through his hair. 

"Sit with me for a while," he said, drawing her in beside him.  Hermione curled one leg beneath her and looped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.  They sat there like that for a while until Harry asked, "You think your mum will be okay with everything you told her?"

Hermione nodded.  "She will.  If she knows I'm dead set on something, then she knows there's not point in arguing.  I just wish I didn't have to tell her because I know she'll worry." 

"I suspect she'd worry if you hadn't told her."

"I know," Hermione said with a sigh.  "But I just hope she'll understand now."  Hermione yawned then, a great, stretching and gasping yawn and laughed.  "I should have taken a nap today like you did.  Come on," she said standing and pulling Harry up.  "Let's go upstairs."

As they walked, hand in hand, Harry asked, "Are you ever going to yell at me or are you just going to forget and let me off easy?"

Hermione smirked at him.  "It hardly seems important right now.  I think maybe you having to put up with my dad will be punishment enough for you to endure right now."

"Does that mean I shouldn't have gotten you all kinds of tokens of apology?" Harry asked as he followed her up the stairs. 

"You didn't," Hermione laughed. 

"I did." 

"You mean like Christmas gifts?" she asked as they reached the landing to the third floor. 

"Nope, completely different and separate."

"Where are these tokens of apology?" she asked curiously as they neared the door to her room. 

Harry stopped and nodded towards her door, saying, "Open it."

Hermione looked at him gaugingly as a smile played on her lips.  She turned, twisted the doorknob, pushed the door open, and then gasped.  Harry smelled the roses before he saw them over her shoulder; vases of red and white roses were set upon every bare surface and dozens floated in the air amongst flickering candles and rose petals.  It looked stunningly beautiful even to Harry and he vowed he'd kiss Dobby the next time he saw the little elf. 

"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed stepping tentatively into the enchanting room.  "I can't believe you…Dobby?"  Harry nodded.  "Wow…"  She stepped up to one hovering vase and stood up on tiptoe to cup one rose bloom and bring it to her nose; inhaling deeply.  She turned then to Harry, looking delighted and said, "Oh, Harry, we have to stay in here tonight. This is simply splendid!"

"We?"

"Yes we," Hermione said.  She pouted then and explained, "I slept terribly last night trying to stay mad at you."

"But…er…your parents are just…"

"Muggles who can't use magic and undo a Locking Charm," Hermione said pointedly.

Harry wasn't about to argue with this proposition and he further reasoned that if he locked the door to his room from the inside and Apparated back to her room, then if anyone came knocking in the morning, he could just Disapparate back to his room with no one the wiser. 

They awoke on their own the next morning to the sweet fragrance of roses.  Harry was fairly certain as Hermione roused him from sleep with kisses just below one ear that he was completely forgiven and she wasn't holding any grudges.  Only a need for the toilet forced him to leave her room and face the day. 

However, the day was not meant to be a smooth one.  It started with Hermione stopping in Tonks' room and shrieking, "Oh no!" when she heard Tonks had used a Calming Draught on her father.  Apparently Hermione, at the same time that Tonks was distracting Mr. Granger by pouring him a glass of wine laced with the draught, had cast a Relaxing Charm on him.  Hermione then rushed into her parents' room and, sure enough, found her mother unable to rouse her father who was groggy and slurring incoherently at best. 

Hermione spent all morning with Harry scouring the library for a book to tell the effects of mixing that particular charm and that particular potion.  Remus tried to reach several people on the Floo for answers as to how much danger Mr. Granger might be in.  He couldn't get Dumbledore on the Floo but was able to get Mrs. Weasley.  Unfortunately though, she had nothing in any of her household guides. 

All this time, Tonks kept apologizing profusely as her mother sat in a rocking chair in her room, working on needlepoint.  Mrs. Granger looked positively frantic and Hermione had her helping sort through books in the library. 

Finally, Remus got a hold of a friend at St. Mungo's and found out that when combined, that potion and charm would make for an extremely powerful sedative that was estimated to last about a day or two.  Unfortunately though, this estimate was for a witch or wizard hit with the combination and they weren't sure if a muggle would be more severely affected.  Either way, they all breathed a sigh of relief that Mr. Granger would not be permanently snoring and drooling on himself. 

In fact, Mrs. Granger found the incident rather funny after she was done worrying about it.  She found it very ironic that her husband's uppity temper and overprotective attitude from the previous night would result in him being confined to a bed for the next few days.  "Might teach him a lesson in manners," she said. 

By the late afternoon, the fact that it was Christmas Eve had everyone in high spirits.  Remus, Hermione, Tonks and Harry had agreed to not discuss anything to do with the Order since it was a holiday.  They spent the afternoon and evening in the drawing room where Tonks, Hermione and their mothers decorated Christmas cookies that Winky had made while Remus and Harry played chess and watched as Tonks made a habit of 'messing' up cookies and then eating the evidence. 

Christmas morning, Mister Granger was no better than the day before and remained snoozing in bed, oblivious to the rest of the world.  The rest of the house, Harry and Hermione even insisted Dobby and Winky join them, gathered in the drawing room for Christmas breakfast and to open gifts. 

Tonks claimed all she wanted for Christmas was to take the Skele-Gro and get her bones back. "I want legs!" she whinged.   Remus even had to agree that her shins were now no longer inflamed.  But Harry convinced Tonks that the process of regrowing bones was not pleasant and he strongly recommended that she wait until after enjoying her Christmas morning to take the potion.  Tonks was satisfied with this because it would still allow her to be properly equipped with all her bones and possibly walking by the Celebration in two days. 

Over breakfast, Mrs. Granger asked what this Celebration was.  As she and Mr. Granger would obviously still be here at the house, Hermione assured her mother that they would get to see one first hand.   Tonks had been to three other Celebrations in her life and told them all in great detail about each. 

After breakfast, they moved to opening presents where Hermione fretted several times about not getting anything for her parents.  She'd been fretting about this fact ever since the night before to Harry and he knew she felt very bad about it.  In fact, Harry had gotten out of bed long after Hermione had fallen asleep and searched to find something he could put together for the Grangers.  It was this gift he'd put together and snuck under the tree himself that he paused to watch Dobby hand out to Mrs. Granger.  Harry set aside his half-unwrapped, lumpy package that he was sure contained a Weasley jumper and nudged Hermione to watch as her mum took the small, flat box wrapped in gold tissue paper. 

"Hermione, I thought you didn't get us anything?" Mrs. Granger said as she turned over the package carefully. 

"I didn't," Hermione said, looking questioningly at Harry. 

Harry sighed and said, "I found something that you could give your parents.  I'm almost positive this will work."

"When did you do this?" Hermione asked as her mother began to unwrap the paper. 

"Last night," Harry said.  Hermione looked at him and he explained, "Long after everyone went to sleep.  I couldn't sleep and needed something to do.  I knew it was bothering you."  Truth was, he had been awoken by two sharp, stabbing pains in his scar and he choose to remain awake where he could consciously defend his mind from attack rather than risk falling asleep again.    He'd searched his room and trunk for something he could use as a gift to the Grangers.

"What is it, Mum?" Hermione asked as the top of the box was lifted. 

Mrs. Granger, who as Harry had gotten to know her, he realized he liked her very much, looked bewildered as she shifted aside the tissue paper inside the box.  "I'm not sure," she said.  "It looks like…a mirror?"

Hermione leaned over, looked into the box and gasped.  "Harry!  Is that--?"  He nodded.  "But you--?"

"I know you have the other mirror," Harry said.  He had given Mrs. Granger the two-way mirror that Sirius had given him.  "We've never used the mirrors and I thought you might like a way to keep in touch with each other no matter where you are."

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Granger inquired, lifting the small, square mirror. 

"It's a two-way mirror," Hermione explained.  "It will allow one person to speak directly with another—oh!" she turned and looked at Harry with her hand to her mouth.  "Harry," she shook her head.  "I'm not so sure—"

Harry had anticipated what she was about to say and Summoned a book from a side table to give to Hermione.  "Check the marked page," he said. 

After he thought about how the Grangers and Hermione could use the two-way mirrors to keep in touch, he wondered if the Grangers, as muggles, could even use the mirror.  The mirrors were obviously enchanted and he suspected they got some of their magical energy from the magical person who was using them.  He'd searched the library then for hours, searching for a book on some spell that might make something such as these mirrors, usable for a non-magical person.  He'd found a potion that could be made which, although complex and time-consuming, could be used to link both mirrors to the one magical person.  He knew if anyone could prepare the potion, it would be Hermione.  And also, because she'd be making the potion, she would be giving her parents something from herself. 

Hermione looked up from the marked page in the book where it described the potion.  "Harry…are you sure you want to give up this mirror?"

"I'm sure," he said.  "We never use it.  Sirius said he and my dad used to use them to talk during separate detentions.  I don't get detentions very often and neither do you.  You'll use it though to speak with your parents.  I'm positive."

Mrs. Granger beamed at Harry as Hermione went on in detail to explain to her mother how the mirror would work and what Hermione would have to brew to make it work for them.  Harry felt a hand upon his shoulder and looked up to see Remus smile at him.  "That was very thoughtful of you, Harry," he said with a wink.  "And when we're done here, you should Floo the Burrow.  Molly said she'd love to see you sometime today when I spoke with her yesterday.  She'll probably also want an update on Mister Granger."

Harry nodded.  He had already felt odd a few times since this was the first Christmas since he'd started at Hogwarts where he hadn't been woke by Ron demanding to open presents.  He definitely needed to Floo the Burrow. 

Harry had received his usual jumper and tin of fudge from Mrs. Weasley, an extra large bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from a Ron, and a self-exploding set of Christmas Crackers from Fred and George, which burst apart as soon as Harry had opened the box.  The crackers erupted into red, gold and green confetti and blasted the sound of the twins singing horribly out of tune Christmas carols. 

In fact, nearly everyone at Grimmauld place had received a set of these crackers from the twins and Hermione quickly found out that casting a Silencing Charm on them, only made the voices begin to screech their so-called singing.  Tonks said this was about how she sang and her mother seemed to absolutely adore the mangled carols. 

Andromeda Tonks was the most animated that Harry had ever seen her this Christmas morning.  Thus far she'd always seemed very aloof and slightly off kilter.  Her comments were often not quite appropriate although it was only very rarely that she'd even pipe up with anything to say.  Remus had told Harry that Andy had not always been like this and that; in fact, she'd been almost as talkative as her daughter before the attack at Halloween. 

While Dobby was still bursting into tears and thanking Harry for the dozen or so odd and unmatched socks he'd been given, Tonks asked, "Where do you find unmatched socks, Harry?"  He'd laughed and confided that he didn't; he'd bought several pairs and split them up, giving one of each pair to Dobby and the others to Mad-Eye Moody who only had one foot anyway.

After gifts were finally done, Harry and Hermione helped Dobby escort an overly emotional Winky downstairs.  Apparently, she'd never gotten gifts before and the entire affair was extremely overwhelming for her.  Hermione insisted that Winky, as it was a holiday, should have the rest of the day off.  She gave Dobby strict instructions to make sure Winky relaxed and took the day off.   Harry then went down to the kitchen to call the Burrow. 

As soon as Harry's head popped into the fire in the Burrow, he saw the kitchen was filled with jabbering Weasleys, all seated around the table, laughing and eating amidst twinkling and shimmering wrapping paper and discarded ribbons and bows.    The smell of bread and holiday baking was mouth-watering. 

"Harry!" the twins chorused as they were the first to see his head in the fire and rushed towards him.   

"Want us to come over and sing for you?" Fred asked merrily.

George then began to belt out a very upbeat version of 'Silent Night'. 

"George!" Mrs. Weasley shouted from somewhere in the kitchen.  "If you don't stop that I'll make you have a silent night!"

"Hey, Harry," Ron said, shoving Fred out of the way who was very poorly trying to play a piccolo.  "Thanks for the Broomstick Servicing Kit, mate.  Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas, Ron," Harry said.  "How's it going?"

Ron grinned and then gave Harry a dark look before checking once over his shoulder and then leaning forward, saying, "Not bad but guess who showed up this morning about an hour ago?"

"Percy!" Fred whispered with his eyes wide and nodding. 

"And that's not all," Ron said hurriedly. 

"He's married!" Fred and Ron both said together with shared looks of disbelief and horror. 

"Married?" Harry said.  He must have heard wrong.  That could not be correct.  Who, in their right mind, would ever marry Percy?  "To who?"

"Hiya, Harry," Ginny said, kneeling down beside Ron.  "Did you guys tell him the news yet?" she asked Fred and Ron.  She turned back to Harry and rushed out in a low voice, "Percy showed up with Penelope Clearwater this morning—well, Weasley now.  They're married!"

Harry was dumbfounded. 

Ron, Fred and Ginny all seemed amused by Harry's shock and just when Harry thought it was finally sinking in, Ron smirked and said, "And that's not even the biggest news, Harry."

"What's bigger than that?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.

"Oh, Harry!  Hello and happy Christmas!" Mr. Weasley called, bending over Ron and Fred's shoulders.  "The stereo is marvellous!  I've not got it to work quite yet as I decided to take it apart first and see how it's all put together.  But I can't wait to be able to get muggle radio—music and news—oh, thank you very much!"

"No-no problem, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, still stunned about Percy.  

"Yes, yes.  Wonderful!  How's Mr. Granger? Molly said there was a bit of a problem with a Calming Draught and Relaxing Charm being combined."

"Oh, he's…doing better.  He should be fine in a few days," Harry said, not quite able to withhold a grimace.  "He's still out of it."  Luckily, he added to himself. 

"The Grangers are there?" Fred asked with a wicked smirk on his face.  "Bet that cramps your plans with Hermione."

"Fred!" Mr. Weasley admonished with a sharp squeeze of his son's shoulder. 

Bill and then Charlie peaked around their father and each wished Harry a happy Christmas. 

"We'll be seeing you on Saturday," Bill said.  "Would you think it'd be all right for me to bring Fleur?  She's up on everything and only needs someone to—you know."  He waved his hands around, implying he couldn't say something out loud.

Harry knew she'd have to get someone to reveal the secret to her about Grimmauld Place and nodded, saying, "Yeah, sure.  Actually, I think Remus was wondering if you would be able to escort Luna since she lives near you?  Moody's already getting Neville, I know on Saturday morning.  I'll see to it when I get back."  Mr. Weasley nodded. 

"Those invitation scrolls were wicked, Harry!" George said, stuffing his head between Ron and Ginny's.  "Fred and I couldn't even get the ink to reveal itself on any of them other than the one addressed to us.  How'd you do that?"

Harry smirked.  "Like I'm going to tell you after we had to endure your horrid singing all morning?" 

Fred just grinned.  "Charlie said it sounded worse than a Mermaid stranded on dry land!"

"What's all the fuss over here?" Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard.  "Oh, Harry, dear!" she called as soon as she spied Harry's head the kitchen fireplace.  "Happy Christmas dear!" She looked like she'd been crying tears of joy and she couldn't stop smiling.  "Budge out of the way, all you," she said to her children.  "Harry—everyone's invited over here for Christmas dinner, dear.  Remus, Hermione, yourself, the Grangers—you should all come over.  We've got our whole family here!"

"Well, I'm not so sure that's possible," Harry said.  "We've got—" he knew he shouldn't say Tonks was there recovering from a curse.  "—We've got Mister Granger who isn't very mobile right now.  There are few other people here as well.  We've also got to get started on preparations for Saturday.  We've been a bit distracted what with everything."

"Oh," her face fell.  "Well, we've got everyone here—did you hear our wonderful news?" she asked, her face lighting up again.  "Our first one to marry!"  Her face went stern and she said, "I would've liked a wedding, but," she beamed again and her eyes filled with tears.  "Our Percy—he's just brought Penelope over with the news!  You know who Penelope is, don't you?  Penelope Clearwater?  Oh—" she laughed, "--Weasley now, of course!"  She began to sob and Mr. Weasley patted her on the shoulder and drew her away from the fire. 

Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Bill and Charlie were all left facing the fire and Harry saw nearly each of them roll their eyes at their mother. 

"What?" Harry asked.  "What is it?"

Bill nudged Charlie, jerked a thumb over his shoulder and said, "Keep a look out." 

Ron then whispered, "Percy just waltzed back in here and acted like he never left.  He brought Penelope with him and his way of introducing her was to say, 'You all know Penelope—my wife'.  Can you believe that!"  All the red Weasley heads nodded in agreement. 

George then turned to Ron and Ginny and asked, "Did you tell him that she's pregnant?"

"WHAT?" Harry shouted.  "Nu-uh—you guys are pulling my leg."  This was obviously a joke. They'd had Harry going for a moment.

Fred and George looked serious, though.  But they could lie.  Ron—Ron and Ginny both looked serious.  No—this couldn't be true.  Bill was serious, too.  And not only were they just not laughing as if to pull a joke on Harry, they were all scowling.  Maybe this isn't a joke. 

"You've got to be kidding," Harry deadpanned.  All the Weasley heads shook.  Harry's jaw dropped.  He was speechless. 

"What's all the clamour over here?" came a strident and crisp voice from the Burrow.  Everyone facing Harry either grimaced or scowled at the sound of their brother Percy.  Soon, the primly cut red hair of Percy could be seen peering around Charlie's shoulder.  "Harry!  Dear boy—how good to see you!  Christmas tidings to you old chap!"  He grinned in a very un-Percy-like way (Harry didn't know if he'd ever seen anyone wearing such a creepy smile) and clapped his hands together as if genuinely pleased to see Harry.  The rest of the Weasleys gathered round the fire all gaped at Percy. 

"Excuse me," Ron said coldly.  "Did I miss the part where you apologized to Harry for being a nasty ass to him for a year?"

"Yeah!" Fred said heatedly.  "Who do you think you are, talking to Harry?"

"He's not your friend and you've never been his!" George said pointing a finger at Percy. 

"Now, now," Percy laughed, not taking any of the offense that was intended by those remarks.  "Harry and I have talked since then.  Perhaps he just doesn't tell you each and every little detail of his busy life?"  He faced the fire again. "Harry—it is good to see you.  Mother says she's invited you over for tea this afternoon.  I do hope you'll be attending?"

Harry didn't trust Percy as far as he could banish him.  "Er, no, actually.  I've got company here and we really can't all leave."

"Oh?" Percy said, still smiling cheerily.  "Where is here?  I do really need to see you, Harry.  Why—I've got a most wonderful gift for you!  You're sure you can't come over here for tea?  Mother will be dreadfully disappointed."

"No, I'm sure Percy," Harry said, frowning.

"Oh."  Percy's smile faltered.  "But I really do have something for you, Harry."

"What would you have for Harry?" Ron demanded angrily. 

Percy looked between Ron and Harry and said, "Well, I was hoping it could be a surprise and that I could present it to him when he's around family." 

George sneered and parroted Percy's words.  "You prat—why don't you just give it to us and we'll give it to Harry so he can be around family and not some pompous Ministry-puppet prat!"

"George, I do believe that was uncalled for," Percy said coolly, looking down his nose at his younger brother. 

"I don't!" Ron said, turning a darker shade of red every minute.  "What would you ever have for Harry unless it's your apology to him?!"

Percy puffed himself up and said, "If you all insist to know, the Minister had decreed that Harry be bestowed with the honourable title of Order of Merlin, Third Class."  Percy watched the shock on his brothers and Ginny's faces with satisfaction.  "That's right, Harry," he said.  "You almost nicked it with the luck it took you to take on those Death Eaters in June long enough for help to arrive.  But now, the Committee on Experimental Charms has nominated your name for the honour related to your publication on the theoretical foundation of emotions behind the Patronus Charm.  The Minister approved the title to be bestowed to you just before he left on holiday.  I've been hoping to present it you on Christmas."

The only sound was one of the twins guffawing. 

"I don't want it," Harry said shortly. 

"Harry," Percy said frowning.  "You don't know what you're saying.  This is an Order of Merlin!"  Harry looked around and everyone's face was indeed impressed; scowling still at Percy perhaps but impressed nonetheless.

"I—I hardly think I deserve—"

Percy laughed loudly.  "Oh!  That's our Harry!  Always modest, you are!  Now, if you're sure you can't make it over here—I'll come to you.  Where are you?  You're not with your relatives in Surrey, are you?  I can be there in a trice."

"He's not telling you where he's at!" Ron said incredulously.  "Honestly!  You think Harry would trust you?  Forget it Percy!"

Harry had no intention of telling Percy where he was at and even if he did, the Fidelius Charm would have prevented Percy from finding Grimmauld Place.  Not that he was welcome here in any way. 

"Er, Percy?  I really don't think that's going to happen.  Perhaps we can arrange something when I'm back at Hogwarts in a few weeks.  Er—guys?  My knees are killing me here and I'm sweating bullets.  Floo us if you need anything?"

"Sure, Harry," Ron said, glaring at Percy smugly.  "We'll all—well, most of us—will see you soon."

"Happy Christmas!" several voices rang out.     

Harry pulled his dizzy head back through the fireplace and wiped his brow as the cool air of the basement kitchen hit his face.  He felt dizzy with all the news and headed straight back upstairs to tell the others. 

"You're never going to believe all the news from the Burrow," Harry said as he walked back into the drawing room. 

"Why's that?" Hermione asked.  She was seated on the floor, both her and her mother cross-legged and scratching Fang's enormous head.  "Are they all coming to the Celebration?  Is Charlie back from Romania?"

Harry just shook his head as walked over past Remus and Tonks who were playing with a new chess set.  "Yes, Charlie's there but that's not the news.  Guess who else was there?"

Hermione frowned and then stopped, dropped her hands into her lap and shouted, "Not—no." Harry nodded.  "No way!" she said. 

Harry laughed and said, "I know, that's what I said.  And that's not all either!"  He sunk heavily into an armchair just beside Andy who was murmuring sweet-nothings to Crookshanks as he curled up upon her lap.  As she scratched behind his ears, she cooed, "You're such a good little kitty now, aren't you?  Yes, you are, yes you are!"

"Who are you talking about?  What's this news, Harry?" Remus asked.   

"Oh—they're all up in arms over there.  Seems Percy showed up this morning—"

"Percy!?" Remus exclaimed.

Tonks gaped at Harry and her mother looked up, saying, "Oh, my."

"—With Penelope Clearwater--"

"What?" Hermione asked, her jaw dropping. 

"Who?" Remus, Tonks and her mother chorused.

"—his wife—"

"What?!" Tonks, Remus and Hermione all said at once. 

"—and—" Harry grinned.  "She's pregnant."

Silence met this announcement until Andy murmured, "Oh, my, me too, me too." 

Harry just stared at her, bewildered by her odd behavior, until Tonks reached over, wadded up a ball of wrapping paper and chucked it at him.  "You prat!  You had me going there for a second!  As if that git could figure out how to father a child!"

"I'm serious!" Harry insisted.  "I saw him."

"Did you see Penelope?" Hermione asked, frowning. 

"No," Harry said.  "But—that still isn't all the news from the Burrow."

"So help me Merlin, Harry," Tonks said waving her wand at him.  "What else could there be?"

Harry waved Tonks' wand out of his face.  "Percy claims he wants to give me an Order of Merlin, Third Class," he said glumly.  "He even wanted me to go over there today to receive it but I said I couldn't because we have company here.  Then he wanted to know where I was and come here to present it to me."

Hermione gaped at him for a moment; opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water.  "Why?" she asked.  "I mean—not that you wouldn't deserve it—but why?  What for?"

Harry rolled his eyes.  "For my work on the Patronus Charm.  He said the Committee on Experimental Charms or something nominated me."  Harry wasn't exactly sure how he knew but something just told him there was more to this sudden award than the Ministry wanting to honour a worthy discovery. 

"He…  But…"  Hermione kept beginning to speak but closed her mouth each time.  "I don't understand.  Aren't award ceremonies public events usually?"

"Usually," Tonks said, looking very confused.  "Well, well… I'm…I'm speechless!" she announced throwing her hands up in the air.  "If that git can get married then why in the hell am I still single?"

"Oh, dear, you're lovely," her mother cooed.  Tonks looked flattered until she saw Andy had only been speaking to Crookshanks. 

"So what did you tell him, Harry?" Hermione asked. 

"I said he'd best wait until I was back at Hogwarts and arrange something.  I don't think he was very happy."

"Well, you should be very proud of your achievement," Remus said. 

"Why?  It's probably just some publicity stunt by Fudge and Percy to use me for some reason."

"Harry!" Hermione said looking at him like he had two heads. "You're as worthy as anyone to receive the Order of Merlin!"

Harry looked at her pointedly.  "Hermione, how can anyone take something that's approved by Fudge and presented by Percy as an honour?"

Hermione folded her arms and sighed. "I suppose, but still.  The basis of the nomination might very well be sound.  Any other news from the Burrow, Harry?"

"Er, Bill asked if he could bring Fleur to the Celebration.  She'll need something from Professor Dumbledore to get in here.  I believe the Weasleys will be fine with bringing Luna along but she'll also need the secret to get in."  Harry turned to Remus and asked, "You're sure Moody will have everything arranged with Neville?  Oh my, it's less than two days from now—what else do we have to do to get ready?" 

Harry suddenly felt overwhelmed with the looming Celebration.  He'd had so many other things to deal with the past several days and no one had done much to prepare at all. 

"I'll tell you the first thing that needs to be done," Tonks announced from her wheeled bed.  "You hook me up with some of that Skele-Gro, Harrikins and set my bones to grow back so I can dance at this Celebration!"

And that was indeed Harry's next order of business.  He kept warning Tonks that the potion would taste vile and that there would be sharp, splintering pains while her bones regrew but she refused to be anything less than enthusiastic.  After Harry gave her the full dose of Skele-Gro, it was only a mere two hours later when Tonks was begging someone to Stun her to put her out of her misery.  As her whinging sounded nearly as bad as the twins caterwauling they called singing, Harry, Hermione and Remus all fought each other to be the one to shut Tonks up. 

After everyone else had shared Christmas Tea, Mr. Granger woke up and was found blearily lurching down the hall, leaning against the wall for support.  Harry was the one who found him and he could have sworn Mr. Granger was slurring something about plaid elephants dancing the polka.  They tried to let Mr. Granger sit with them in the drawing room to see if it would help him wake up more but he ended up slumped over, drooling atop Crookshanks. 

The rest of the night and all of the next day, everybody in the house helped to clean and prepare for the Celebration.  Well, everyone except for Mister Granger and Tonks.  She'd been revived only long enough to for her to wail and whinge about a minute before Remus Stunned for her second day. 

They'd all decided that the large and vacant practice hall was where they would hold the Celebration.  Together, they cleared out all the various pieces of furniture that Remus had been working on fixing up and moved them to the attic.  Harry and Hermione charmed rags to polish the floor in the hall to a gleaming finish while Mrs. Granger worked with Winky selecting recipes to comprise the menu. 

They tested out whether transfigured objects would hold up better than conjured tables and chairs for the event.  Hermione, despite Harry's protesting that he could conjure something that looked better than what he could transfigure, insisted that transfigured objects would be more stable.  After all, the last thing they wanted was for guests to be seated in a chair at a table that both suddenly disappeared.  As Hermione gathered numerous miscellaneous items to transfigure, Harry muttered, "Most people wouldn't be very happy to suddenly find their chair turned back into a candlestick." 

Hermione glared at him and yanked the candlestick back, saying, "I'll transfigure these.  You stick with the books!" 

By evening, they had the hall gleaming.  Both fireplaces in the hall were cleaned and in working order, bedecked with holiday greens and red and gold ribbons.  There was one long buffet table at one end of the hall and, all along one side of the room, small round tables with seats for dining were arranged. 

"Oh!  You know what we need?" Hermione asked, clapping her hands and looking around at the hall.

"A bath?" Harry suggested hopefully.

"No—the roses!"  Hermione beamed and then proceeded to commission Harry to help her carefully ("No magic!  You might break a vase!") transport all the roses he'd gotten her from her room, into the hall.  They placed a vase on every table and several on each fireplace mantle.  The rest, they scattered about the table for the buffet. 

As he surveyed their work, Harry had to admit, the hall did look splendid. 

"Oh!  You know what else we need?" Hermione asked, peering into the book she was using to describe all about Celebrations.

"You already said that once and it meant more work," Harry pouted as he looked warily at Hermione. 

"Someone needs to get a holly wand.  I'm guessing here that Ollivander has them for loan.  Remus did say Fawkes would give a Phoenix feather, didn't he?  Oh—and what will we put the feather in when you light it?  Oh—we should have thought of this sooner!" she bemoaned. 

"Calm down," Harry said, rubbing Hermione's shoulders.  He'd been the hysterical one almost all morning but now, he was beyond tired and couldn't be bothered to get all worked up.  "I've got a holly wand.  I figured we'd just use mine and we can conjure a metal tray of some sort to light the feather in.  Okay?"

Hermione turned around and looked up at him.  "What do you mean you have a holly wand?"

Harry smirked and pulled her close as he said in a low voice, "I believe you've seen it before?  Eleven inches long…supple…"

"Harry!"  Hermione playfully shoved him away.  "I'm serious!"

"No you're not—you're Hermione," Harry said laughing and pulling her back.  He withdrew his wand from beneath his sleeve and held it up between them.  "Holly, eleven inches, core of Phoenix feather.  Right here and so help me god if you tell me that's some rare combination," he said warningly.  Hermione bit her lip as she looked at his wand.  "Oh, for god's sake—what?"

Hermione, choosing her words carefully, very slowly said, "Well, it's a very rare wood for a common wand."  She quickly added, "But what I think it's most interesting is that you, The Boy Who Lived, has a wand made from the tree of life."  She smiled sweetly at Harry.

Harry, who'd had enough planning and preparing for tomorrow's Celebration, couldn't argue with that and just raised an eyebrow as he pocketed his wand, looked at Hermione and drew her close again.  He conceded, "Well, I suppose it sure beats having a wand made from the tree of death or some such thing." 

He drew her in for a kiss that lingered and they only broke apart when they heard Mrs. Granger delightedly say, "Oh, Remus was right!  He said if we left the two of you alone, I might finally catch you snogging." 

"Mu-um!" Hermione said, stomping her foot and laughing. 

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