Previously:
"I guess we're taking this one," she said, pointing to the latter.
"Yup," Ron said, "Hermione, do you want to come back to my house, so you can check to see if your house is safe? Oh, and Harry, you might want to, too." Harry oh-so-subtly rolled his eyes, but nodded. Hermione saw him, and she secretly smiled to herself. She knew what Harry was thinking, because they had been friends for all these years, but she also knew that he would never let Ron know he thought Ron was a little—
"Hermione?" Ron snapped his fingers in front of her face. She could tell Harry was amused by the look on Ron's face. Ron snapped his fingers again. "Hermione?" She pulled her thoughts back to now-reality.
"Sorry, what was it you want to tell me?" she asked Ron.
"I was saying that maybe you should come back to my house with Harry before going to your house to make sure it's safe."
"Sounds great, Ron. I hope my house is okay," she said, also knowing that she would sell the house as soon as possible. She knew she would not be able to stand being in a house that had been robbed. Ron nodded and stepped into the green flames. He threw some Floo powder into the flickering flames at his feet and said, "The Burrow!"
"Hermione, you go ahead. See you at the Burrow," Harry said. Hermione smiled at him and stepped into the fire as Ron had done.
"The Burrow!" And with a whoosh she found herself spinning through many different fireplaces, occasionally catching a glimpse of the lounges beyond, but then she was whisked off through even more grates. Finally she felt herself slowing down, and she threw out her arms to keep herself from falling face-first into the Weasley kitchen. A pair of strong arms reached under hers and pulled her upright. She shook the soot out of her eyes and saw a very weather-beaten man with bright red hair grinning at her.
"Charlie! How nice to see you!" she exclaimed.
"Hey, Hermione," Charlie replied. "Ginny told me about your house, so I called the Ministry. They've finished the primary search, but want you to stay somewhere else until they figure this out. Apparently, this guy meant business." He gazed at her with concerned eyes.
"Yeah, and it would be fun to have a sleepover; we haven't had one of those in years!" Ron interjected excitedly. Hermione laughed at the little-boy look on her best friend's face.
"Sounds fine to me."
"What sounds fine?" Hermione jumped and spun around. There was Harry, laughing silently at her surprise.
"Harry! Merlin, you scared the living daylights out of me!" she scolded.
"Hey, answer my question!" he said, laughing. "What's fine?"
"Oh, Ron and Charlie invited me to sleep over here." She said lightly, purposely not mentioning Harry being invited too.
"Erm—okay…I'll just…go somewhere else for the night…" Harry said, with the quietly pleading eyes Hermione knew only too well. Hermione clamped her mouth shut tight and tried hard not to smile.
"Hmmm…Let me think…Oh, yeah, someone else was invited too…" In spite of herself, she couldn't help a grin coming through her seriousness. "Oh, wait, his name's on the tip of my tongue…Hold on…Oh, yeah, his name was…Harold? Harvey? No..."
"Hermione!" Harry said, exasperated. Charlie was trying, but not exactly succeeding, to not laugh. Ron had cracked long ago, and was laughing, doubled over, holding onto the beat-up kitchen table for support.
"Wait, don't tell me!" she shrieked, holding her finger in the air. "Har—" she feigned deep thought. "Harr—Harry! That's the one!" she finished triumphantly. Harry looked so furious that she was almost scared—until her laughter finally broke free of its barrier. Harry reluctantly smiled, then grinned, and then laughed out loud.
Hermione glanced around the kitchen. She saw Charlie and Ron chuckling in the Weasley way. Harry was chortling, lights dancing in his bright emerald eyes for the first time in…a long time. A feeling of belonging, pride, and general happiness burst into her consciousness and she couldn't help grinning. She was about to yell "GROUP HUG!" when she came to her senses and regained her dignity.
"Hem-hem," she coughed. Ron and Harry jumped. She smiled slightly, remembering the despicable Defense Against the Dark Arts professor they had had in their fifth year: Professor Umbridge. "Anyway," she continued, "I was supposed to meet Ginny. Do you know where she is, Charlie?" He shook his head. "Oh. Well, then, I guess she must be coming here soon, so I'll see her then." Ron suppressed a yawn.
"You guys might want to go to bed. It's been a long day," Charlie advised. "I'll wake you up if anything happens, okay?" He shooed them up the stairs.
"So, Harry, guess what?" Ron said excitedly.
"What?" Harry said, looking tired but interested.
"Well, you know I moved out after graduation, right?" Harry nodded. "Well, Mum and Dad set me up my own apartment upstairs! Now I can come home and visit whenever I want!" Harry grinned.
"Think of the possibilities, mate…" he mused. Ron grinned too. Hermione sighed.
"I am here, too, you know," she said. "So where is this apartment you mentioned?" Ron pointed right ahead, up three flights of stairs. Hermione could just make out Ronald's Apartment on a brass plaque on a door that had chipped orange paint. Ron picked up his pace, almost running up the stairs, and Harry followed. Hermione puffed behind them. Ron turned around, amazed, looking at Hermione struggling to race up three flights of steps.
"What? It's not like I compulsively work out every day!" she gasped, offended. Finally, she came up the last step. Ron rolled his eyes and turned the key in the lock. He flung open the door and they were greeted by a blast of warm air.
"I like to keep it at a constant temperature so I don't come home to a different temperature every time," he explained. Apparently, the temperature he had chosen was meant to be like a beach rather than the English countryside.
"Ever heard of a heating bill?" Hermione asked. Harry laughed.
"Let's just go to bed," Ron said, yawning. Hermione nodded and followed him inside. Harry entered the apartment last and snapped shut the door behind them.
"Hermione, you can sleep on this couch," Ron instructed, "and Harry, you can sleep on this one. We can add guest bedrooms tomorrow, but tonight I'm just too tired. I'll be sleeping in the bedroom down the hall. You can wake me up for anything," he said, already walking down the hallway towards his room. Hermione knew he did not like being awoken, so she decided that, if she needed to wake someone up, it would be Harry.
"So…" Harry said. "Are you really tired?"
"Not really. I mean, I could sleep, but I'm not about to collapse."
"Yeah, same with me." Harry agreed. He sat down on his couch and patted the spot next to him. Hermione sat down there and rested her head on his chest. He put his arm around her and she felt herself relax into him like she had done so many times, so many years ago. She closed her eyes. Harry started rubbing her temples. She smiled.
"Thanks, that feels good," she murmured. Harry laughed.
"I always knew you could use a massage," he teased. She opened her eyes and pretended to slap him. He stood up stumbled around.
"Oh, I'm in agony! What did you do?" he moaned. She laughed.
"Well, Mr. Potter, I would recommend you not tease me any more," she retorted and, before he knew what was coming, she jumped on his back. He stumbled for real this time, and then regained his balance. He swung himself around, purposely making Hermione almost fall off. "Harry! Stop it!" she shrieked.
"What was that?" he said. Hermione could detect a laugh in his voice. "I could have sworn I heard something from up there." He looked up exaggeratedly and Hermione fell onto the couch, bringing Harry down with her. "Aaargh!" he yelled. She laughed and held onto his shirt as he struggled to stand up again. At last he gave up, and relaxed on top of her. She wriggled out from under him and he swung his legs onto the couch so he was lying down. She lay on the other couch and flopped from side to side.
"For an apartment so temperature-conscious, it sure is hot in here," she remarked. Harry laughed. She could tell he was tired, so, out of respect for his feelings, she kept the rest of her thoughts to herself as his breathing grew more and more rhythmic. She closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep. Unfortunately, sleep was a long way off. She turned on her side. The couch's springs poked into her. She tried to perform the spell that cushioned things. Her wand moved a bit by itself, side to side. She gasped and dropped it. It lay on the floor, solid and unmoving, as a wand should be. She picked it up and placed on the coffee table. It's only my imagination, she scolded herself, I'm just tired. Wands don't move by themselves. Soon she fell asleep and forgot all about it.
TGIF! And only three weeks until the HBP also.
I realize that the plot is moving a little slowly, and I promise a more exciting chapter next time.
Happy summer, and thanks for reading (and reviewing)!
insanehpluver
