A/n: Alright everybody, just to let you know, this chapter is complete crap. I read over it and I wondered what in the world is wrong with me. School is really affecting the development of this fic more-so than I thought in the beginning. So I apologize for the lateness of my updates, but it may be like this until Winter Break. Just please, bare with me, and you'll see something good come of this.

Chapter 7: Forgiveness, Yet Not Quite Forgetting

Streaks of sunlight penetrated the darkened haze created by the dusty windows, enveloping the room with it's gorgeous brightness. One such lazy creature was, however, not obliged to such cheerfulness.

The lump in the middle of the bed groaned and rolled over, tucking itself deeper into the warmth of the sheets and pillows. Yet even with it's back turned, the sunlight penetrated the closed lids, making it almost impossible to drift back into that glorious land of slumber.

With a sigh followed by a wide yawn, a certain Hermione Granger flicked away her covers and sat up, her legs swinging over the side of the bed, sliding her feet into the slippers below. She emerged from her room and was immediately bombarded with the aroma of fresh coffee brewing, meaning that someone was starting the day even earlier than she, which would be about 6am.

Deciding she'd best wash up before the rest of the household were brought back to the waking world, Hermione headed towards the bath room. Opening the door, she was instantly enveloped by the steam that came rolling out from a very recently used shower.

Walking in, she was surprised to find Harry standing there... in nothing but a towel. His was hair damp, his eyes bear of glasses, and his face thick with the beginnings of a beard... Great Merlin what a sight he was. Even this early in the morning he looked completely ravishing, not a bit of him to be spared.

Currently, he was standing in front of the sink with a razor in hand--it pleased her to see it was part of the shaving kit she'd bought him for his birthday-- looking at himself in the mirror as if contemplating something.

Much as she would have loved to observe a bit longer, she still needed to shower. And so, she decided to make her presence known. Perhaps she had forgotten that there was really no need for that. For as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by a pair of warm lips pressing fully against her own, followed closely by equally warm hands sliding about her waist.

Hermione was, of course, surprised by this sudden action. And were she not being snogged senseless at the moment, she would have realized that Harry had already sensed her before she even appeared in the door way, due to his newly-heightened senses provided by his animagus form. But… she wasn't really paying attention to all that, preoccupied as she was.

Really now, what could she do, other than delight in sliding her hands slowly up her love's nicely developing chest until her arms were around his neck? What could she do but let her fingers tangle themselves in his damp black locks and revel in what was at least a 5 minute snog?

They finally pulled apart after what seemed like a blissful eternity, both breathless and grinning maddeningly, resting their heads together. Oh if only Fred and George could see them now, gagging gestures all around.

"Good morning, Ms. Granger," Harry whispered, getting that feeling he always got when riding his Firebolt, only this time, he couldn't come down even if he wanted to.

"Good morning indeed, Mr. Potter. That was quite a greeting," she spoke just as quietly, not quite ready to break the mood.

"I had to get you out that trance somehow. You were just standing there staring, making me feel all unconscious and completely bare."

"Yes well, you aren't exactly clothed at the moment, Harry. Not that I'm complaining..." came that almost very un-Hermione-like response.

"What were you doing in here anyway? I know you don't normally just stare at yourself in the mirror."

Harry pulled back, though not before planting another kiss to her lips, and returned to the sink. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course not. Now tell me," she said, sidling up behind him.

Instead of answering, he glanced down once more at the razor in his hands, then up at her reflection. A slight blush tinged his cheeks as he met her eyes. "It's... kind of embarrassing."

But not for nothing was Hermione Granger the smartest witch of her generation at Hogwarts. Her eyes were full of compassion and understanding as she smiled softly.

"When I was younger, before I started at Hogwarts, I used to watch my father shave and get ready in the mornings. He was so meticulous, setting everything out... the shaving cream, his razor, and towels." As she spoke, she reached around Harry and set everything in place.

"Some mornings, when he and Mum had a little extra time, he would let her do the shaving for him," she told him, a small, distantly amused smile on her lips as she gathered some shaving cream in her hands, getting a good lather before gently smoothing it over Harry's skin.

"Once she had him good and lathered up, she'd rinse her hands and take his razor," which Hermione did, smiling as Harry watched her all the while, seemingly mesmerized by her actions. "Then, she'd make a start with the underside of his chin. She'd go slowly though, so as not to knick him. Yet, she would be firm so she wouldn't have to go over one spot too many times and give him shaving bumps. They were so adorable, let me tell you," she laughed lightly at the memory, while carefully sliding the razorover Harry's skin.

"When she was done, she'd take a cloth and gently wash his face so it wouldn't get all sticky from the cream, and even go so far as to put on his aftershave for him. And the entire time, he'd be watching her with this look in his eyes. I wasn't quite old enough to be sure what it was at the time, but as I thought about it a little later on, I realized he was and still is completely enamored with her. And I couldn't help thinking how much I wanted that someday.

It was true what they say, one never really notices that which is right under their noses. Harry was, perhaps, experiencing something that followed those lines,. He just stood there, watching Hermione as she wrung out a cloth of hot water and used it to wipe the last vestiges of cream from his now expertly clean-shaven face.

What she had said just then, about wanting what her parents have, it struck a cord in him. It had him wondering if his parents, too, had had such a close and involved relationship. It also made him wonder if it were possible for he and Hermione to achieve such a level of involvement, of total entrancement with one another. He didn't know, as he wasn't one to predict the future, but he did know he sure as hell would like to try.

"Hermione," Harry said softly, not quite calling away her attention from her task.

"Hmm?" she answered distractedly, admiring her handy work. It really was perfect, completely clean of all hair, no bumps, very kissable. She grinned absently at the thought.

"Hermione, I know I didn't ask before things just kind of...well… started between us but... would you… … I mean... would you be mine?"

Hermione, knowing that despite Harry's seemingly more confident appearance lately, decided it was best not to tease him even though it could prove to be extremely amusing. So instead, she looked adoringly into his eyes, an amused grin on her face. "Of course, Harry, need you even ask me such a thing? I've been yours for a long time now."

A gentle knock on the door interrupted whatever else Harry might have said. "Harry, are you almost done in there?" Ginny called. "The twins got to the other bathroom already---phew! It smells worse than Ron's "lucky" Cannons socks!"

Hermione ducked her head, resting it against Harry's shoulder as she muffled her giggles.

"Er, yeah Gin," Harry called hastily. "I'll be out in a minute, but Mione's got dibs on the shower next."

"Bah… your bloody girlfriend best be glad she's my best friend."

He waited until her steps faded away before succumbing to laughter. "We'd best get out of here before someone catches us," Hermione said after they had caught their breath. She moved toward the door to hurry and get her shower things, only to turn back as Harry caught her gently by the elbow. She sent him a questioning glance, and was rewarded by that familiar, half-bashful smile. "Thanks, 'Mione."

Gently cupping a hand under his now smooth chin, she pecked him on the cheek and smiled. "Anytime."

Breakfast was a cheerfully busy affair, as it always was with the Weasely family. Plates filled with eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes floated around the table as every member was engaged in some topic of conversation or another.

The twins were off in there own little corner of the table, conspiring over one of their newest creations. Mr. Weasely had eaten a quick breakfast of toast and coffee before he was out the door and off to the Ministry. Surprisingly enough, Bill, Charley, and Percy were all still at the table, talking and even laughing amongst themselves.

Harry, who had been happily eating his pancakes and bacon and watching Hermione as she talked animatedly with Ginny, suddenly stiffened as his sensitive nose picked up a very familiar approaching the dining room. Placing down his fork, he rose from his seat, politely excusing himself from the table; this did not go unnoticed by Hermione.

He stepped out into the hallway and met his elusive best mate just as he cleared the last step.

"Ron," he said, his voice deep and enigmatic in it's implications just in that one syllable, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Ron looked like a deer caught in headlights, frozen by the fear that was evident in his eyes. Well, maybe not fear exactly, but he was nervous beyond belief. He thought maybe he should be angry with Harry. After all, he wasn't blind, deaf, or stupid contrary to what some people believe; well okay, maybe a little stupid sometimes and possibly a little hard-of-hearing but that was beside the point.

The bastard had stolen his one chance at finally having something he did not. And what does he do, just takes it right from under his nose.

Of course, Harry didn't think they way, Ron thought as he finally got a good look at him. He noticed there were quite a few changes in the Boy-Who-Lived. He seemed to be more confident, more sure of himself and his place in the world. Fuming, Ron could not help but think that Hermione had a lot to do with that, and it didn't help his already broken pride any at all.

He didn't want to think that Harry deserved it, that he should finally have a chance to be happy... he wanted to hold on to the feeling of betrayal, of abandonment. He wanted to be a smarmy git and explode, just because it would make him feel a bit better, a bit more justified in his anger.

Before he could make a move, either toward the other boy or back up the stairs, Harry spoke. "Ron." His voice was quiet, as was his stance, but there was a tautness to him, the intensity of a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

Ron didn't like the sensation of being a mouse. He squared his shoulders defensively.

"Harry."

"Look, Ron, we need to talk."

The youngest male Weasley steeled himself for what was coming, trying unsuccessfully to calm his nerves and unbalanced emotions. "Look, Harry, I don't want to talk about it, alright? You won, mate, the best man got the girl. Just leave me out of it"

"Merlin, how much of a prat can you be, Ron... First of all, don't speak of Hermione as if she were some trophy to be passed between us. She's a woman of her own mind who can damn well speak for herself. And as to her and I being together, I didn't win her over and away from you, alright? You pushed her away all on your own, and I had nothing to do with it contrary to what you may think."

"Oh screw you, Potter! You were my best mate, and now my brother, but what kind of brother goes behind his brother's back and takes away his one chance at having something that's not overshadowed by said brother?! Oh, but I guess that was all just false hopes, wasn't, Saint Potter!"

"So the entire time you two were dating, you were using her, weren't you? All that time you just wanted her on your arm like some kind of bloody Christmas tree ornament, all shiney and polished and gaining lots of attention, huh?" Harry had slowly approached him with the sum of his words, closing the distance between them so that they were toe to toe, almost nose to nose. His face had gone completely expressionless, and his eyes danced with a with the fanned flame of righteous anger and pulsing rage, steadily gaining higher levels of ferocity. In other words, Harry was pissed.

He knew he had hit home with those last words, judging from the embarrassed redness taking hold of Ron's face. It served to do nothing but make him angrier.

He figured that perhaps maybe he should calm down, though. Sure, he was known for his temper, but now that temper was backed up by the instincts of the ferocious predator that was his animagus form; he could do some serious damage if he let himself snap.

Luckily for him, that oh-so-coveted scent of lilies and lilacs began to surround him, and two small hands wound around his right arm, gently pulling him back a few steps.

Ah, Hermione, his anchor to the world; the girl had on-the-spot timing. Even without looking at her, he knew she had been listening to their conversation and had chosen this particular moment to intervene.

"Apologize," Harry growled.

"What?"

"You heard me, apologize to her. Apologize for all you've said and all you've done."

Ron looked back and forth between the two. From Harry, who was completely livid and trying his best to keep a lid on it, to Hermione, whose expression was completely unreadable as she stood steadfastly at Harry's side. He realized something about them just then, and the very thought of it made his stomach turn.

Looking at the two of them now, side by side, insistent and unwavering when it came to supporting the other, he realized that he never had a chance. As much as Harry preached to him about treating Hermione like an object, he was the one who had been used as some sort of prelude, just someone to occupy Hermione's time until she got what she truly wanted. Grudgingly did he even think of apologizing, more out of the thought of Harry actually trying to tear his head off than anything else; he didn't think she deserved even that much.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm sorry for using you before, for accusing you of cheating on me, for everything I said… I'm sorry. I guess you could say I'm the stupidest, most ignorant prat in the world. It's just that I didn't like the idea of being the third wheel."

"Apology accepted. But you should know that we'll always be your best friends, Ron. Harry and my dating one another isn't going to change that, right Harry?"

He didn't say anything for a moment or so. Harry wasn't exactly sure he wanted to forgive Ron so easily just yet. He wasn't sure why, or what was holding him back but he decided to remain reserved on the situation. Ron was now his brother after all, but more for Hermione's sake did he nod his head in affirmative.

Hermione seemed satisfied with this for now. Oh, she knew something was up of course, but she'd just have to confront Harry about it later. "Wonderful. Now come on you two, you need to hurry and eat so we can leave early enough to make the Hogwarts Express."

Ron needed no further prompting at the mention of food and made a mad dash for the kitchen, though it seemed more out of an excuse to leave the room than his usual ravenous hunger.

Hermione smiled tightly, sighing as she turned back to Harry, whose arms were sliding around her middle. Resting her hands against his chest, her appearance softened slightly as when she caught him staring at her with this peculiar expression on his face.

"What?"

"You are really an extraordinary person, Ms. Granger, did you know that?" A light blush tinted her cheeks, contradicting the validity of her next words.

"So I've been told, Mr. Potter, but I'm sure you mean something else."

"It's just… you forgave Ron so easily just now. After all he's said about you, after all he's said and done to you, you still forgave him. You're amazing, Hermione, and I'm not just saying that to get a kiss, even though really want one before you go," Harry said, grinning cheekily.

Hermione's blush deepened and she was just about to bashfully respond, when she caught onto his last words. "What do you mean before I go? Aren't you coming with us?"

"Well, I am, in a sense. See, even after all that's happened, you're possibly still in a lot of danger since I'm pretty sure old snakepuss knows his plans failed by now. Also, he still doesn't quite know where I am at the moment, and we, as in myself and the rest of the Order, would like to keep it that way. So, to kill two birds with one stone, I'll be accompanying you on the train, but as Bast."

"That makes good sense, I suppose. But, Harry, how're you going to explain this to everyone else? I mean, no one else knows about your animagus form."

"Well, Mr…er… I mean, Dad knows; he was in on the whole thing along with Remus and Dumbledore. Mum doesn't know, though, since we elected it best that she not be in on that particular meeting. She'd skin us all alive for even thinking of sending me on a mission for the Order.

"I can only imagine what her reaction will be when she actually does find out about all this going on right under her nose. Anyway, what's the plan?"

"You'll see." Just then, the sound of the front door opening and closing could be heard. Footsteps echoed down the entrance hall and to the living room, revealing none other than Remus Lupin.

"Hello there you two. I see you're having lovely a morning," Remus said with a laugh, grinning at the blushing faces of his two former students.

"Yes, thank you prof… um… Remus. I assume you've come to 'pickup' Harry?"

"Spot-on as always, Hermione, I see you've been well informed. I suppose I should step into the kitchen and let your new family know I'm here, Harry, as I'm sure Arthur's told them about my escorting you to Hogwarts already. Then we can 'get this show on the road,' as the Muggles say."

Remus made his way into the kitchen, steeling himself to brave the unpredictable hurricane that was Molly Weasely.

Moments later did he return, followed by the entire Weasley clan, to find Harry and Hermione where he had left them. The only difference, it seemed, was that Harry's trunk was by his feet.

"Ready to go Harry?"

He nodded and bent low to kiss his girlfriend, and he hugged his new mother and sister. He received affectionate claps on the back from his brothers as he headed towards the door with Remus, his trunk floating along behind them.

"It's really too bad you couldn't go with us, Harry," Ginny said softly, wishing that she could spend more time with the newest addition to their family.

"It's alright, Gin. I'd rather go alone knowing Voldemort would probably attack the train if I were up there. At least you guys'll be in less danger that way. See you at Hogwarts!" he said, waving as he closed the door behind him.

As they the rest made their way back into the house to prepare for departure, however, moments later Remus poked his head through the door once more.

"Hey, Hermione, does this bloke here belong to you?" he asked as a rather large, black feline slunk through the open doorway, making straight for Hermione. "I saw him wandering around outside and thought it best to let him in, lest he attract unwanted attention."

"Oh! Um… thank you, Remus. I'll try not to let him out of my sight this time," Hermione said, quickly getting over her confusion as she realized this was the plan she'd asked Harry about. And quite a clever plan it was, too, simple as it was.

"See to it then. Well, I'm off once again. Be careful, stay safe, and I'll see you at Hogwarts." And he was out the door, for good this time.

Hermione waved goodbye, and closed the door behind her, walking back down the entry-way with an abnormally large black panther on her heels.

TBC