After a few moments of silence, Hermione asked, "Who do you think lives here now?" Her voice was almost too soft to be heard, but Harry's senses were heightened by the rush of adrenaline that had coursed through his body over the last hour or so.
"I...I don't know." Harry inched closer to her almost instinctively, as if responding to some unspoken invitation. "Does it matter?"
Hermione inhaled sharply. "Someone must live here. The grounds are very well maintained. The house has been newly painted. I doubt Death Eaters would have fixed it up this well, if it had been abandoned." She refused to meet Harry's gaze, even though he was now standing close to her. "Do you think they're dead now? Do you think these Death Eaters even bothered to...kill them?"
"Hermione, I..." Harry's voice died in his throat. "The Aurors will find out. They'll investigate. Everything."
She chuckled mirthlessly. "Harry, you heard what Three-Arm Charlie thought of muggles. I doubt very much that he cares about what happened to the owners of this house."
Harry extended his right hand to touch her left shoulder, giving it a reassuring rub. "Maybe not. But I get the feeling he'll try to find out anyway. He strikes me as very professional. As much as a bloke with an extra arm growing out of his chest can, at least." He smiled weakly until Hermione did the same. "The fact that you care, that you even think about..." Harry ran his hand down her arm in lieu of finishing the thought. "It means a lot. To me, at least."
Hermione turned to face him, finally. Her eyes were teary, but there was a conviction behind them, a strength, that Harry found nearly overpowering. It made him want to hold her, but he resisted the urge. There was so much they needed to talk about first, but at the moment he just didn't care that much. Harry soon discovered that his head was leaning closer and closer to her own, as if some center of gravity were drawing both of them in and they were helpless to stop it...
The kiss itself was gentler than before, a light brush of lips that didn't really satisfy either of them. Hermione held up her hand to softly touch his chin. "We probably shouldn't," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder.
Harry flinched as though he had been struck. "Why not?"
Hermione's head nodded slightly in Harry's direction. "Because Mr. Fournier needs to take our statement." Harry turned around to see Three-Arm Charlie standing behind him, a reproachful glare in his eye.
"C'mere," he growled, his right-most hand grabbing Harry's left forearm. "Kids. Told 'em it was the muggle what done it. Did they listen? Nah. Had to go find out for themselves, make me fill out paperwork. I swear, when Britannicus gets back..." His voice died away in a string of incoherent muttering.
It took about twenty minutes for Harry and Hermione to give nearly identical accounts of the ordeal they had faced that night. This seemed to satisfy the old Auror and he soon found himself gleefully preoccupied with escorting Lloyd Moseby and Elmira Pinnix to a holding cell somewhere. When Hermione found Harry again he was standing alone with his hands stuffed firmly in his jeans pockets, staring out at the stars. She seemed nervous for no reason Harry could see. "Nice night, huh?" Hermione ventured.
Harry nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving the skyline. "I suppose. If you like being nearly killed by the memory of a sixteen-year-old muggle and a couple of Death Eaters."
"Well, no," Hermione continued nervously. "That part wasn't so pleasant. But I liked...the other things."
"You mean when you had that near death experience and I had to save you using legilimency?" Harry teased.
"The part where we kissed," Hermione cut in insistently. Harry could feel the intensity of her gaze, despite the distance between them. "Although...I don't quite understand..." She chewed her bottom lip and her forehead screwed up in concentration. "Harry, what did it mean?"
"What did it mean?" Harry repeated, as if this were the most ridiculous question ever asked of him. For some reason, however, he couldn't come up with an acceptible answer.
Hermione seemed desperate to end the silence between them. "We have been spending a lot of time together this summer. We're both sixteen now. And, well, I'm a girl and you're a boy and...it's natural to feel something, isn't it?" She swallowed and shook her head slightly. "But we've known each other a long time and it would be stupid to throw it all away for a summer fling."
Harry felt as though his insides were slowly sinking into his shoes. Was she about to reject him? In any case, he had to agree that jeopardizing what he had with Hermione over a short-lived romantic relationship would be foolish. "Yeah," Harry found himself agreeing without really wanting to, "it would."
Her hand reached for his shoulder and held it firmly and she turned him around slightly to face her. "You mean the world to me, Harry, you know you do. The way I feel about you...whatever it is that's betwen us...sometimes I think it's the strongest thing I've ever felt. Like something bigger than both of us saw something missing in our lives and wanted you to have me and me to have you. Always. And it doesn't matter how many Viktor Krums or Cho Changs come and go, we'll both still have this...connection. We'll still be the most important people in each other's lives." Hermione's eyes glistened and her voice went slightly deeper. "Really, Harry, what's a teenage romance compared to that?"
Harry's eyes dropped to somewhere around her neck and he began blinking rapidly. "You're right, Hermione. We..." A voice inside him screamed in protest. No. He would not give up this easily. He was Harry Potter, for pity's sake. "There is one problem with all of that, though. A rather large one."
"What's that?" Hermione whispered anxiously.
"I really want to kiss you right now." Before he knew it, their foreheads were touching and he was kissing her again, this time for all he was worth. Given the roller coaster ride his emotions had taken that night, the experience was all-consuming, particularly when she began kissing him back with a ferocity he hadn't thought possible from her. Eventually they broke apart, a slightly stunned expression evident on their faces.
"Oh," Hermione exclaimed lightly, her voice slightly strained. "So...so that's the problem, is it?"
Harry nodded slowly. "I was hoping you might help me with it."
There was a playful twinkle in Hermione's eye. "Hmm. Well, I would suggest more kissing, but that might only make the problem worse...of course it all depends on whether I'm a good kisser or not..."
"Yeah, that wouldn't be the way to go, then," Harry replied as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "There is something I was considering...but it probably wouldn't work."
"We have to consider every possibility, Harry," Hermione scolded him and then pressed her lips firmly against his again before he could say anything else. "After all," she said breathily, "this is a serious problem."
Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, even though you're a fantastic kisser, maybe...maybe you're not any good at snogging."
Hermione appeared to ponder this in her mind. "You know, that could be true. I've never snogged anyone before."
"Really?" Harry asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise. "Not even Viktor Krum?"
"Viktor who?" she questioned with a frown and within a matter of seconds they were testing Harry's snogging theory. Alas, this one turned out to be a bust as well. Hermione was excellent at snogging and from the noises she was making, he wasn't bad at it either.
"I don't think this is working, Hermione," Harry complained in a mock whine. "Now I want to kiss you and snog you. A lot. And maybe not even in that order."
"Oh my," Hermione gasped as she ran her fingers up his neck and brought them to rest in his hair. "I haven't been much of a help to you at all, have I?"
He grinned widely. "Well, I wouldn't say that. We could study the problem further, though," Harry suggested, his own hands busy rubbing her back gently. "But I think you might have to be my girlfriend again. For real this time."
The brightness in Hermione's eyes and the hint of a smile that had played around her mouth for the last few minutes vanished abruptly. "Is that really what you want, Harry?"
"Yes," Harry answered quickly. "Is...is that what you want, too? I mean, what about everything you said about our friendship meaning more?"
"It does mean more," Hermione insisted. "More than just your average teenage crush, at any rate. Harry, if we do this, it isn't going to be like any other relationship we've had before. I already trust you with my life. I'm completely sure of you; more sure than I've ever been about anything. And we haven't even gone on our first date yet."
"So I guess the Youth Masque didn't count as a date," Harry muttered under his breath.
Much to Harry's delight, Hermione's smile was back. "No, Harry. It didn't." She moved one of her hands to stroke his cheek. "The point is this: what we have isn't worth risking over a few trips to Hogsmeade and random bits of snogging in the Gryffindor common room. But it is worth trading for something better, something stronger than what we have now. Do you think you're ready for that?"
Harry gulped. His chest was already so tight with emotions that he felt like it was going to burst. Could there be something stronger than what he had with Hermione now? Wasn't it worth finding out if there was? "I...I don't know," he stammered. "But I think I'd like to see if maybe I am. That is, if you..."
"Yes," Hermione interrupted forcefully, the smile on her face growing wider. Their lips met again and Harry realized that the other kisses had been tempered by something hesitant within each of them. This one was...well, he would have used some sort of 'great' adjective if only his brain had been working properly. When they parted slightly, Hermione's eyes locked onto his own. "Why do you keep worrying about how I feel? I would have thought it would have been obvious by now."
"I think worrying about how you feel goes along with wanting to date you," Harry explained breathlessly. "Also, you did ask Ron out only a few days ago. Was that just a fluke or...?" He couldn't bring himself to accuse her of leading his red-haired best friend on or teasing him. 'Or of choosing me just because Ron turned her down,' his mind added pessimistically.
"No," she replied emphatically. "No, that wasn't... With Ron, I was trying to..." Hermione released a sigh. "It's hard to explain."
Harry couldn't let himself get this far not to find out how she felt about Ron. "Try."
"I've never thought that I was good enough for you, Harry," Hermione declared, her eyes darting quickly downward. "It may sound stupid, but...I didn't think you would ever think of me that way. When Viktor and I broke up, I knew it would be just the same with anyone else I dated. There would be so much jealousy directed towards you and nobody would understand why you were so important to me if I didn't fancy you. Or worse, they would figure out that I did fancy you." Harry's heart thumped loudly in his chest. "But Ron, he understands that we're just best friends. And there has been this...thing...between us for a while."
Harry screwed up his nose. "You mean the bickering? The constant belittling of each other? The fact that you disagree about absolutely everything?"
Hermione smiled slightly up at him. "Was I an idiot to think that that might be love?"
"You're not an idiot," Harry replied automatically. "But between that and the fact that your plan was based around the idea that Ron wouldn't be jealous of me, I'd say it was pretty well doomed to failure from the start." Harry released a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "So you don't fancy Ron?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry." When she saw his shoulders slump in relief, she flashed him a winning grin. "It was you all along. I tried hard to feel that way about Ron, but I just couldn't get over you. To be honest, I don't think I really wanted to."
Harry squeezed her lightly. A mixed sensation of relief and hope washed over him, and he began to slowly realize that he was feeling something he hadn't for quite some time. 'Since Sirius died,' Harry's mind added. Happiness. A sense of complete elation that transcended everything. "So... I guess this means we're together, then."
"Harry," she said with a slight laugh as she threw herself fully into his arms. "We've always been together. Only now it's a romantic togetherness."
Harry let out a hearty chuckle. "I thought I was the only one who used that phrase."
They just held each other for a moment, enjoying their new relationship while it was in its infancy. Before there were problems and misunderstandings and the reality of what it all meant started to seep in. "The Stone of Preservation," Hermione said aloud, as if her mouth just suddenly decided to babble something she was thinking. "I suppose I should make some cute remark about it being in your pocket or you being happy to see me, but... what are you planning to do with it? Why didn't you just leave it for the Aurors?"
"I was thinking about giving it to you," Harry answered honestly. "At least until we figure out where it came from and what it does. I suppose I could always take it to Dumbledore, though." His tone said he didn't think that was the greatest idea in the world.
Hermione shook her head. "No. That's fine. There are some great books about gemstones and crystals with magical properties that I picked up on one of our earlier Hogsmeade trips last year. I'll look through it to see what I can find." The notion of turning it in to the proper authorities died quickly in both of their minds. Auburn Summer had been their adventure; their trial by fire. They had earned the right to use their own judgement. Harry was certain that Hermione would be every bit as responsible with this as he had been with the magic items entrusted to him.
"Fournier," a gruff Auror's voice called from behind them. "There's been an incident involving a muggle with a magical object at a place called 'the Serpent's Tooth'. The chief thinks it might be related to what happened here."
Harry turned in time to see that Three-Arm Charlie's curiosity was piqued. "Yeah? What kind of magical object?"
"An invisibility cloak," he answered grimly. Harry wanted to kick himself. He had forgotten all about his cloak. "Apparently he's passing it off as his costume to something called the 'young mask'. Took first prize, I believe."
'I knew it,' Harry grumbled to himself. He turned back to see that Hermione had been listening to the whole thing and was now suppressing her amusement very poorly. "I guess we should go back to the Serpent's Tooth," Harry remarked glumly.
"We had to go that way to pick up the moped anyway," Hermione agreed with a smile. She took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his own as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Come on."
"Hermione," Harry began with hesitation in his voice. "Terry said something to you, didn't he? Before he disappeared, that is." Her head nodded quickly. "What was it?"
Hermione frowned. "He must have been out of his mind. He actually offered me a place at Voldemort's side." She stopped walking and turned to look Harry in the eye. "Then, there at the last, he said that 'the future of magic lies with muggles'. Honestly, what could that mean?"