A/N: Don't look at me like that! And stop with your third degree! I know it's been eons since I've posted and I apologize profoundly—but college is damn hard! I hate it, by the way. Finals are week after next and I've been working like a madman, but first semester will be over soon and then I have like two months of nothing; I can work on this fic. Thank you to my new reviewers. You earned the title of kick ass dukes. Oh, to HermioneGirl03—Hermione and Harry shag a lot cause… they're young and love each other… and he really likes sex. Lol.

I Never Lived

Chapter 6

Harry was virtually silent after Mr. Granger's interrogation. And to think, he had thought the dinner had been going abnormally well…. Hermione sensed that ever since they had sat down at the table to eat, her mother had wanted to say something to her. Emily had been very close to blurting it out a few times while they fetched the dessert, but she always managed to catch herself in the end. Whatever it was, it caught Hermione's attention and refused to let go, although she did have a small intuition of foreboding for some reason.

Hermione had not been home for 50 seconds when the phone rang and glowed blue on Thursday evening. She pushed the observation that she needed to go to her flat for certain things to the back of her mind.

"Hello?" she greeted, taking her robe off and trying not to sigh.

"Hermione, love," said her mother.

"Hi mum."

"I'm sorry, but I've been bothered by this since about January and have just now found the nerve to bring it up," Hermione's curiosity and dread flared up, "I was on the verge of addressing it last night but—"

"I noticed."

"Yes, well…" Emily commented.

"What is it mum?" asked the brunette.

"All right. Well, I know that you don't necessarily have to answer me, but as your mother I would hope you will think of how we raised you to be honest, and know that you can talk to me—"

"Mum!"

"Okay, yes. Hermione—I need to know, want to know, if… if you are still a virgin."

Well, it wasn't like Hermione hadn't expected this subject to come up between her mother and herself, but she had never truly figured out a way to discuss it. She did not particularly want to talk about her sex life with her mother and was slightly terrified. How was Emily going to react? Would she be thoroughly distraught? Would lying do any good? No…

"Uh…," she shakily began. She cleared her throat and calmed herself as much as possible, "I… I am n-not. No. No, mum, I'm not." There was a pause of silence. Dear God, what was she thinking?

"I'd figured as much; I didn't think you were." Emily noted with a bit of exasperation in her voice.

"R-Really! I, I mean, you're not angry? Or disappointed? Or sad?"

"I can't really be, can I? You're an adult Hermione, even if it is difficult recognizing it at times. Just… it's only been… you've only been with…"

"Only Harry, mum, yes." Hermione hurried to explain, feeling a deal better.

"Since… when?" Emily wondered.

"Last year. After we were out of school! How… how'd you know?"

"It was more of an assumption. You're both young, you obviously are mad for each other, and Harry is a very attractive young man. I didn't think you'd be able to hold out for very long." The Muggleborn smiled, but it evaporated at her next thought.

"Mum," she began, horrified, "You won't tell dad!"

"Heavens no dear! I'm a woman—I know to keep some things quiet! Besides, your father would kill Harry if he knew."

"My thought exactly." Hermione laughed, relieved.

"Though, Hermione… I only have one request, or plea. I hope you used, or are using… hope you're being—"

"Mum, yes! Of course!" she exclaimed, interpreting her struggling as, "I need not tell you to use protection". Indeed, she was. Hermione took a potion every three days that prevented pregnancy.

"Oh, good. I want grandchildren sweetheart, but not now, and not if you're unmarried."

Mother and daughter spoke for another five minutes and then hung up. That had been an interesting conversation, one she did not precisely want to have again. When Harry returned to the apartment, he came with suggestions.

"Let's not eat here tonight," he said, finding her in the study.

"We didn't eat here last night," countered Hermione, working on a proposal filed on behalf of a mistreated group of sprites.

"That was yesterday. This is today."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with it being your turn to cook, would it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Harry declared. He wanted to take the paper out of her hands but knew, from learning the hard way, that it would be a terrifically awful move.

"Whatever Harry," she smiled.

"Good! Taking that as a yes, I've got another brilliant plan."

"Yes?"

"Let's visit Remus tomorrow evening after work. What's that you say? You'd love to? Well that's perfect because he's expecting us at seven." Hermione stared at him, an amused yet disgruntled smile playing with her features.

"You are extremely lucky I like Remus and want to see him," she remarked, pointing at him. She then stood up and started cleaning the desk, putting things away.

"What? You act as if you don't like it when I dictate your schedule." Harry grinned. The former Head Girl gave the former Seeker a very pointed look that conveyed her response to that statement.

Hermione walked out of the study and Harry followed.

"So I guess sex in the restaurant's bathroom at 7:18 is off?" he wondered. She turned on him with her wand and he hastily ducked into the nearest room.

Harry and Hermione waited for Remus Lupin to answer his door as the nippy March darkness pressed in on them the next night. They had a passive disagreement about brining him a small token of hospitality, as they always did.

"We've been here loads of times Hermione, and you know he won't accept anything." Harry responded, "His birthday just passed anyway. He won't take any more gifts."

"Hermione, Harry—how are you?" the remaining Marauder greeted as he opened his door.

"Hello Remus," grinned Harry.

"We're fine. And you?" Hermione said warmly. He stepped aside and ushered them in.

Lupin's home was small yet comfortable—meant for one. The kitchen and dining room was directly right of the modest living room, and a hall led to the back of the cottage (which contained two bedrooms and a bathroom). He had a petit, picturesque garden as well that only stayed kept up because of magic.

"Food?" Remus asked them as they settled in.

"Sure." Harry responded. The werewolf conjured up tea, small cakes, crackers, and cheese with his wand.

"How was your day?" Hermione wondered, taking a cup.

"Uneventful," the werewolf smiled, "How is work? For both of you?"

"Oh, splendid!" She then launched into a ten minute narrative of how Books, Bludgers & Batteries had been functioning lately.

"I know of another man with my condition, newly bitten mind you, and he could use your shop's help, Hermione. I'll talk to you about it later." Remus revealed.

"Of course," she replied.

"Harry? Your Auror duties?"

"Er…," The Boy Who Prevailed looked at his father's old friend and tried to think of something satisfactory to say, "They're… normal. Well, I mean…"

"Still a bit unhappy with your career, are you?" Lupin commented, setting his tea down and smiling faintly. Harry did not answer, but bit into cake to hide his guilty grin. After all these years it was still uncanny how the ex-professor seemed to know everything he was feeling.

"Well, don't stay with anything you can't stand, that's all I have to say," he stated.

"How… how did my dad like it? Being an Auror?" Harry pondered.

"James loved it. Though, his determination to fight Voldemort was a part of it…" Harry nodded.

"Did Mrs. Weasley invite you to the Burrow on Sunday, Remus?" Hermione wondered.

"She did, yes, as well as Arthur. I've accepted and expect to see you there. How is the twins' joke shop flourishing?"

"It's great, of course," the green eyed young man smiled, "They've just invented something that parodies Polyjuice Potion. It's brilliant."

"They truly are amazing," said Remus, shaking his head and folding his arms, "And Ginny? Ron?"

"Ron's fine. Continues to be obsessed with his job."

"Ginny wants to be an Auror." Hermione told him.

"Really?" Moony wondered.

"Really?" Harry swiftly inquired, turning to her.

"Yeah. She said she wants to talk to you about it." Lupin was silent for a moment while he looked at them reflectively.

"I saw that Draco Malfoy has a poison on the market," he remarked when he spoke again. "Oh, about that." Harry began, now turning to him. He initiated a tirade that soon became a rant about Lucius Malfoy and the Death Eater law.

Harry & Hermione left almost two hours later and after another tray of food. They always had an amicable time when they visited Lupin.

"It's still early. Do you want to do anything?" Harry asked her as they appeared on their doorstep.

"Um…," she started, clearly thinking, "Oh! Natalie and Talia were talking about doing something earlier. Their shift ends in a few minutes… we could stop by and see what they're doing."

"It wouldn't only be us four, would it?" he reticently wondered. The idea of being the only male in a group of three females was not precisely comforting.

"No. Talia has a boyfriend, remember? And I'm sure Natalie can just pick up any man on the street." Hermione answered. Harry laughed.

Saturday was the day off. (In fact, they miraculously had the entire weekend to themselves, something that hadn't occurred in awhile). After a very lazy morning, in which they had awaken a little before ten but hadn't gotten out of bed for another hour and a half, they went to Hogwarts. It had been decided the previous week that they would go see Hagrid, and Ron came to the flat 30 minutes after noon to accompany them.

"We have to go after lunch," the redhead had observed when the suggestion came up, "I'm not eating what he thinks constitutes as food."

"Oy, Harry, we're going to the pub later tonight—Millie's. You know, Seamus, Neville and Dean. Coming?" present Ron inquired as they came to the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

"All right," his best friend said.

"I'm assuming the presence of estrogen is not wanted." Hermione tetchily noted.

"Well, Dean might be there. He's still cozying up to that Samantha witch…" the Weasley son went on, ignoring Hermione.

"Ron!" she angrily exclaimed, glaring at him. Harry tensed; he could detect a (possible) fight coming on.

"What! Yes Hermione, it's a mans' night out, all right?"

"Mans'…" the Muggleborn muttered, scoffing.

"Excuse me, but I'm 20! I am a man!"

"Then you should act like it, and stop being so rude! Trust me, I do not want to go to the pub but it would have been courteous to ask! It's the little things, Ron!" Hermione then quickened her pace and walked ahead of them obstinately. The redhead pulled grotesque faces at her back in return. Harry stared at him, hands in his pockets. He had never enjoyed their bickering.

"What is it with her! She is always on my back," Ron half-shouted, "I stand by what I said years ago—she's mad!" The former Seeker did not really have an answer so remained quiet.

"There's no way we could've… been together. We row too much." Ron commented a minute later, when he was calmer. Yeah, and over everything, Harry mentally added.

They came to the gates of Hogwarts not very long after, the argument forgotten at the sight of the castle. Seven years of their lives had passed in that structure and some of their memories, good and bad, resided in it as well. Hermione gave a mournful sigh, fingers gripping the metal.

"Hogwarts… two years ago, eh?" Ron quietly remarked. Harry merely nodded. Their end had been an unusual one, and significantly dismal for Harry.

"We should go and see McGonagall before we leave, and… Dumbledore's portrait…" he told them, eyes on the school. Ron looked at him, not needing to speak to agree. Hermione's hand moved from the gate to her boyfriend's hand, grasping it.

The trip to Hagrid's hut had been worth it; it was always fun to be in his company. He was the only one who could fully succeed in making them feel 11 and carefree once more. They sojourned with the headmistress as proposed, to her subdued enjoyment, and a few of the professors. (They had a time escaping the exuberant students who were blown away to see Harry Potter). Ron left them when they returned to their flat in the late afternoon, claiming he had an engagement with Luna and vowing to see Harry later that night & Hermione the next day.

"I'm going to get some work done in the study," she reported. Harry knew he could, and should, practice certain Auror spells but watching television on the sofa, and possibly falling asleep, sounded much more appealing.

He had been an hour through it when a knock came on the door. It turned out to be a couple of his and Ron's good acquaintances from the Magical Sports Department wondering if he "wanted to play a game of Quidditch at Eric's house". Harry jumped at the chance, informed Hermione, grabbed his Silver Nova, and gladly departed. Two new brooms had come out several weeks earlier for the wizarding world to drool over: the Silver Nova and the Orion 321. Like usual, the cost for them was depressing and the Quidditch teams were snatching them up left and right. The Boy Who Prevailed felt compelled to buy one since he hadn't gotten a novel broom since his fourth year and knew it was time, though he kept his Firebolt because it had been a gift from Sirius and a loyal companion. And what a better way to deplete his wealth than by purchasing an expensive broomstick… or rather two—Harry had bought Ron an Orion for his 20th birthday. The redhead had all but passed out and swore, in supreme awe, that Harry was the greatest living human on Earth.

The greatest living human on Earth was done playing Quidditch after two hours. He had played Seeker and relived the thrill of zooming through the air after the Snitch. Harry was still elated when he returned home, but then began thinking that he did not play any longer and was now stuck in an office. He was glad when ten o'clock rolled around and he arrived at Millie's to purge that horrible thought from his mind with alcohol. Dean was not originally with the four of them but walked in half an hour later, coming from a date with Samantha.

"Have you banged her yet?" was the first thing out of his best friend's mouth. Laughter then followed.

"Hey, hey—you see those girls over there? The four of 'em, been looking at us tonight. Let's send 'em drinks!" Seamus proposed, at a quarter until midnight. He was working on his fifth drink.

"Isn't that sending the wrong message?" Neville responded. He was in the middle of his second drink.

"Well they are attractive." Ron chuckled heartily. (He had just finished his fourth drink).

"Last time I checked, we all had girlfriends you twit." This time Harry and Dean laughed.

"It's a friendly gesture, you bastard," assured Seamus, waving him off.

"I'm going to get another." Harry announced, getting up for his third glass.

"Get Longbottom another, mate! He never drinks enough!"

"I'm fine!" Neville retorted, furrowing his brow.

"I'll take one Harry. Anything's all right," smiled Dean, raising his hand. As the dark haired young man left his friends, Ron told a blunt joke and uproarious laughter was heard. There was nothing like a good night with friends and liquor.

"What'll you have, Harry?" grinned the barman when he approached.

"A Phoenix Fire and… Dark Delight," he responded.

"Right away!" Harry turned around and surveyed the pub as he waited. Millie's was full of wizards and witches, most all smiling and laughing.

"Harry?" an eager voice said, stealing his attention. It belonged to a female and was recognizable. He looked to his right and saw, with a drink in her hand, Cho Chang.

"C-Cho!" he replied, stammering. She was beaming, though blushing somewhat, and looked as pretty as ever.

"Hi!"

"H-Hi."

"Wow, it's been… ages!"

"Yeah, it has." He hadn't seen her since the end of his sixth year.

"So… how are you?" Cho asked.

"I'm… all right. You?" Harry remarked.

"I'm fine. Who… are you here with anyone?"

"My mates. Are you?" It was a colossal shock seeing her again.

"Oh, yes… my friends as well, from the magazine!" she smiled, looking away after her sentence. He heard his drinks being set down on the counter behind him and turned to retrieve them, thinking it a perfect diversion to rid of some of the awkwardness.

"Look, Harry—it really has been years since we've seen one another. And we didn't precisely leave on good terms," Cho spilled, only looking at him fleetingly, "What… what if we had lunch next week, just to catch up?"

He didn't know exactly how he felt about her proposition, still trying to comprehend that he was talking to her once more. But, they had ended things sourly and Cho currently seemed sincere…

"Um… sure. That's, fine." Harry told her.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

"Wonderful," she stated, face lighting up, "So, I'll just… owl your office on Monday or something?"

"Okay."

"Great! Well, I'll… I'll see you next week Harry." He nodded, looking at her.

"Bye then!" Cho bid.

"Bye." She hurried off into the crowd, apparently going to her table. Harry shook his head and started back himself. That had been a bit disorienting.

"What took so long?" Ron questioned as Harry neared them.

"I, er, ran into someone," he reported. He passed Dean the Phoenix Fire.

"Thanks."

"Who?" wondered Neville.

"Cho," answered Harry, sitting down. They all looked at him.

"Chang?" Seamus probed, surprised.

"Bloody hell!" Dean stated.

"I heard she had moved to Wales." Neville commented. There was a brief silence before Ron inquired:

"Was she still really good looking?" For some reason, this made them laugh for about the 300th time that night.

Harry scrambled into bed next to Hermione at 1:30 in the morning. He felt badly for having left her alone for half of the day, but she was asleep and he didn't want to disturb her by waking her up and apologizing. He awoke hours later to the sound of running water. His vision was blurry as he tried to pointlessly make out the numbers on the alarm clock. Once his sight went from horrible to the normal bad, he stretched and reached for his glasses. So that was the time: 8:48.

Hermione then walked by the bed in order to get to the closet that was on the left wall; she did not notice that he was no longer slumbering.

"Hello." Harry greeted. She jumped and turned around.

"Oh, Harry—you're up," the Muggleborn observed, "What time did you get in?"

"1:30. I'm hungry."

"Well that's good to hear," she wryly smiled, knowing what he was trying to insinuate. Harry grinned; he hadn't expected her to make him breakfast in the least bit.'

"I was about to go visit my flat. I need a few things." Hermione said, grabbing one of her sweaters from the closet.

"I'll go with you," he offered, getting out of bed.

"You don't have to Harry."

"I want to, "And he did, "Just give me 15 minutes."

Hermione's apartment was like everything else she owned—neat and in order. She stood in the center of the living room when they entered and Harry went straight to the kitchen for food. There would not be much, but he could find something.

"Let's see…," she started, "Oh, I need to dust, and the windows!" Hermione took out her wand, said two incantations, and watched rags & dusters fly forth to do her bidding. She then walked out of the living room and to her room.

Ten minutes later, she emerged from the back with a white shopping bag. The cleaning supplies had ceased five minutes before that and Harry was at the bookshelf leafing through a book.

"I feel like a terrible person for not sleeping here more often. The poor flat feels lonely!" Hermione pointed out.

"You're feeling sorry for a building?" he grinned.

"Well it's sad! My poor bed hasn't been touched in months."

"Really?" A glint had come into his eyes. He closed the book and tossed it on the couch.

"And the dust was just a reminder that I'm never here," she continued, not sensing the change in her boyfriend.

"Well, we could fix the bed problem. In fact, it could be viewed as a christening, seeing as how we've never broken it in." Harry was right in front of her and smiling wickedly. It suddenly dawned on her what he was talking about. She pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips.

"Harry—"

"You only look cuter when you do that," he insisted, seizing her around the waist, "No?" He began kissing her, once, twice, three times, four…

"No?" he wondered again. Hermione shook her head, though she was smiling. Harry started kissing her again, but this time with deliberate, intense kisses. Once, twice… her eyes closed… three times, four… her hands laced themselves around his neck… five, six… she pressed against him so that there was no space between them whatsoever… seven… he moved down to her neck, her spot.

It didn't take very long for Hermione to yield. She was biting her lip and clutching him as he attacked her neck with his lips and tongue.

"No?" he asked breathily, still lingering at her throat. He left a small kiss at the base.

"Yes." Hermione corrected, greedily finding his lips once more.

They began to move towards her room with Harry leading, since she was backwards, while persisting to kiss passionately. Hermione gave up very quickly and climbed onto Harry, wrapping her legs around his waist. They stayed in the same spot for a few moments, still snogging, and then he carried her into her room, and to the awaiting bed.

A/N: My stomach hurts. I am hungry. Anyway! Couple of things here….

1) Story blunder: Ron was supposed to meet Harry and Hermione at their flat so they could go eat together in the first and fourth chapters. He didn't and they showed up at the restaurant. Oops!

2) I didn't write for Hagrid b/c I hate his guts. Besides, I don't know how. Anyone who read Lock and Key can testify to that, lol.

3) Remus' birthday is on March 10th, swear to JKR, but I didn't include it in the story. He's 40 here.

4) The Weasley dinner was supposed to be in this chapter but it was long enough without it. It'll start of chapter seven.

That's all. I will try my hardest to have chapter seven up next week.