Disclaimer: The characters and back story are both J.K. Rowling's. I simply have an overactive imagination.

Chapter Two

Release

Hermione woke up with a stiff neck. For a moment she forgot where she was and then she realized she was on the floor of the Dursleys' sitting room. Harry's aunt would not let her nor Ron sleep in her precious Dudley's room. Nor would she allow them to sleep on her precious sofa. They could sit on it as long as they didn't move too much, but his aunt suspected that they were restless sleepers and didn't want her couch made lumpy somehow. Hermione thought she was crazy. And quite rude. But, then again the sleeping arrangements could have been much worse, thought Hermione as she looked over at a still sleeping Ron. He even looked cute with his mouth agape like that. And he's snoring. Hermione suppressed a giggle.

Harry had not known that she would have to sleep on the floor before he had gone straight from the kitchen to his old room after his conversation with his aunt. He had never come down. She suspected once he found out, he would feel horrible. He's always blaming himself for things he can't control. Like Dumbledore's death, she thought tearfully. It was still quite fresh. She had never lost someone she had cared about so much, not like that. She was used to great aunts and uncles and grandparents dying of natural causes. She was not used to the greatest wizard in the world being killed. Especially not killed by someone he had so adamantly trusted.

She shook these thoughts off though and thought of more pleasant things. She had to do that a lot lately, just to stay sane. Most of the time she thought about Ron and this morning was no exception. Her heart thudded as she thought of the night before and a hot blush crept up her neck, threatening to take over her face. Last night had been so simple and wonderful and natural. Not that we did anything that should have been complicated! Hermione's conscious piped up. She even objected to herself. She sighed and lay back down into Ron's stretched out arm and faced him to watch him sleep.

He had held her all night. He claimed that it was because she seemed to be really upset about having to sleep on the floor. She let him pretend. She knew the real reason, now. They had had another row the night before. A row that I started, she thought as she absentmindedly played with Ron's longish hair. He stirred slightly, but didn't wake. She wasn't brave enough to do this when he was awake. Oh well, the row had been good for them. It was a short one. After Harry hurried past the sitting room and up the stairs without a word to them, Hermione waited for Ron to make a joke of some sort. With no idea of what he would say, but fully expecting it to make her laugh and feel less apprehensive, she had turned to look at him. He was staring at the stairs where Harry had disappeared, his brow furrowed in concern. She expected to him at least run after Harry with some Canary Creams, maybe even eat one and burst into feathers and molt within seconds, just to make Harry and her laugh. Instead, he sighed, leaned back fully on the sofa, still staring at the stairway and said simply, "I guess he's done for the night." It may have been somewhat funny, if he had said it with the usual Weasley sarcasm, but he said it seriously. Suddenly she was angry.

"What! Aren't you going to make some comment that will have us both in heaps! You never seem to joke around me anymore. I guess since Harry is upstairs and obviously done for the evening, you think no one else needs cheering up!" It was true, he hadn't wisecracked with her, just her, in a while. She turned to him, fully expecting his mouth to be screwing up in retaliation. She thought if she could get him angry, he'd eventually say something ridiculous to make her laugh. She was surprised, therefore, when she saw his mouth doing no such thing. Instead he opened and shut it a couple of times as he stared at her and then he relaxed dejectedly on the couch and just sat there looking down at his hands.

She wasn't going to let him off so easy. She wanted to laugh, she needed to laugh. Just before Harry had rushed past, they had been talking about protecting her parents, just in case. Malfoy hated her; there was no telling what he would do. The thought of anything happening to them made her sick. Ron had been so serious the entire time. She thought that the connection she thought they had had the past year was all in her mind. He didn't want to make her laugh. This thought made her terrified, "I mean I thought we were best mates too! I thought by now you would be over the fact that I'm a girl!" she had had no idea what she was prattling on about and no idea how long she did it. She couldn't even remember all that she had said. "I mean, I thought we had something special and not just because we're best mates, but because I ca-" she caught herself short. She had been about to tell him that she cared about him as more than a best mate, but he obviously didn't want to hear it because he was bent over now with his head in his hands. He wouldn't even look at her. He hardly had the whole night. She silently cursed her bushy hair. He hadn't looked at her much all evening.

Hermione knew she should be concerned about bigger things than Ron looking at her, and she was, it's just at that moment it was all she could think about. She was about to go into another tirade when he spoke, "I'm just so tired." Hermione was a smart girl, but it took her a moment to realize that he meant something other than being tired and wanting to go to sleep. He had begun again, "I'm just so tired of always having to be one of the ones to fight. Though I'm ready to do it, I'm so exhausted just thinking about what we have ahead of us. I want to be able to just be normal. Listen to me, I sound like Harry," and he briefly had an amused look on his face. "I guess I know exactly how he always feels, at least a little. I mean I would do anything for him and I'm not blaming him for being a target. He can't help it. I just wish we could all just have a normal time together." He raised his head and turned it slightly to look at her, "Do you know what I mean?"

Hermione had known exactly what he meant. But she was still a little confused, "Why have you been joking all the time then? I mean, at least when Harry is around?" she asked nervously, afraid he was going to say that being around her drained him or something as equally horrible. She was pleasantly surprised when he said, "Because, well…in some ways I'm closer to you than I am to Harry. At least when it comes to this kind of stuff. Boys don't talk things out. They joke around. I don't feel I have to do that around you…because...," he looked away in embarrassment as if he was about to share too much, "…because I feel like I can be myself around you, especially lately. I feel like I don't have to put up a front for you because you just accept it. You just accept me."

And then an amazing thing had happened, Ron turned his head and wiped away a tear. He didn't cry much more than that, but the fact that he didn't try to write it off as something in his eye or something else, combined with what he had just said, made Hermione forgive him immediately. So, instead she had simply reached out and taken his hand, this time to comfort him instead of reaching out for comfort herself. His body relaxed again and he put his head on her shoulder and let her caress his hair like he had done for her at the funeral. The moment was ruined, however when Harry's aunt had walked into the parlor and they broke apart immediately. She then told them of the sleeping arrangements and how they would have to sleep on the floor. Hermione had told Ron that he should go up and sleep in Harry's room and keep him company. She would stay down there. He had said, "No. He probably wants to be alone. If he hadn't, he would have come in here with us earlier." She realized he was right. Then she realized she was tired. None of them had slept much the night before, Ron stifled a yawn.

Mrs. Dursley reentered the room with blankets and pillows for them. At least she is somewhat thoughtful, Hermione had thought as she and Ron arranged their makeshift bed. She had blushed at the thought: bed, her and Ron's bed. Suddenly she panicked. Petunia had only given them one blanket. She had said, "Well I don't want to have to burn more than one, now do I?" Ron had jumped out of his melancholy at those words to jump off the sofa and make towards her. Petunia already had her back turned though, and Hermione held him back. Ron seemed to have a little bit of his regular self back at this point, and made a crude remark about sharing the blanket, raising one eyebrow. "Ron!" Hermione had exclaimed. She knew he was joking of course, but she blushed anyway.

They both had become quiet then. Hermione had looked up at him and realized he was blushing too and looking down at their 'bed'. "So!" he began, "I guess you can have the blanket. I don't need it. It is June after all." But Hermione had known that that meant nothing. The nights had been colder than usual and he would freeze without a blanket. So she had put away her nerves and said, "No, we'll share. You'll freeze without a blanket. I would create a portable fire, but his aunt might have a coronary if she saw." He smiled at this, "That's not a bad idea," and then he looked as if he was waiting for her to scold him, but instead she had dissolved into giggles. Her Ron was back, for now. She had lain down first and her heart had pounded as she waited for him to get under the blanket beside her. It was big enough so they didn't have to be right up against each other. Hermione had wished it hadn't been. They both had lain there looking at the ceiling, when they both spoke at once.

He had said, "We should probably sleep closer, you seem to be really upset about sleeping on the floor and...," just as Hermione had said, "If we sleep closer we'll produce more heat-" she cut herself off at what she had just said and he trailed off. They both blushed as they rearranged themselves. She nestled her head into his shoulder. She thought she heard him gulp when she had done this and had smiled. She had an arm draped over his middle. Then he had done the sweetest thing; he kissed her on the forehead and said sleepily, "Goodnight, Hermione." She was barely able to whisper, "Night, Ron."

What's that? Hermione's eyes opened and she saw that Ron looked away quickly. I must have fallen back asleep. I hope he doesn't know I dreamt about last night. Then she realized he had been watching her for who knows how long. The thought made her smile and something in her stomach do a flip. "Where's Harry? Is he up yet?" she asked as she yawned and stretched. Ron watched her stretch out of the corner of his eye. She was too out of it to say anything about that. "I think I heard him walking around upstairs. He should be down soon." It didn't sound quite truthful to Hermione, but she figured it was because she was not quite awake so she replied, "Okay. What are we doing for breakfast?" Ron shrugged. The thought occurred to Hermione that she will probably be sleeping close to Ron for a while yet to come. I mean, they wouldn't exactly be going places where they could go to an inn or something. The thought didn't bother her. "Well, we really should be going soon. I don't think Harry wants to stay here much longer either."

Harry woke up with a feeling that something wasn't quite right and then everything that had happened in the past few days came back to him and suddenly he was exhausted again. He felt bad that he hadn't said anything to Ron and Hermione after he talked to his aunt. He had just felt like being alone. He was glad, for the most part, that they had taken the hint and not come after him. He was scared about what they were going to do today. They were going to take the Knight Bus to Godrics Hollow. He had memorized the map and knew exactly where the cemetery lay. Professor McGonagall had magically drawn the map for him the day of Dumbledore's funeral. Harry felt the void that the headmaster's absence left in him, but he also felt something else. He had ever since the funeral. He couldn't name it. He didn't talk to Ron and Hermione about that feeling yet. He wouldn't until he knew why he felt it. It's almost like…no that's impossible.

Harry decided he should go downstairs to let Ron and Hermione know that he was up. He figured Hermione would be on the sofa and Ron on the floor. He knew his aunt wouldn't let anyone sleep in Dudley's room, but their discussion last night made him think that Hermione would be able to sleep on the sofa. He was surprised when he peeked into the sitting room and saw that they were both on the floor. Ron was awake and looking at Hermione. She seemed to still be asleep. They're awfully close together, thought Harry. He wasn't surprised, in fact he thought it was about time they started to really sort things out. He remembered what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had told him about hasty weddings last year. He caught Ron's eyes and motioned that he would be upstairs for a bit and then headed that way. Ron nodded understanding and looked back at Hermione.

As he headed upstairs, he realized that he should at least tell his aunt that they were leaving. He figured she was still in her room since Ron and Hermione had been cozy. He was pretty sure she would have broken that up immediately. He stopped in front if his aunt and uncle's room. He had not been in the room since he was a toddler and didn't know any better. He knocked softly. There was no answer, so he knocked a little louder. Still no answer. He decided to peek in, figuring she was still asleep. He was wrong. She was sitting at her vanity, staring at her reflection with a hairbrush in her hand poised to begin brushing. He cleared his throat, "Aunt Petunia?" Quite startled by his voice, her brush leaped out of her hand and she fumbled to catch it. "What do you want!" she screeched. Apparently she was making up for their conversation the night before.

"I just wanted to let you know that the three of us will be leaving soon. I thought you should know," Harry said and turned to go to his room and get his bag. He paused, "Is it okay if we grab some toast before we leave?" She opened her mouth as if to protest and then remembered their destination and nodded. "But be quick about it!" she exclaimed before going back to staring at her reflection. Harry left the room and closed the door softly.

It was mid-morning and the sun filled his room brightly. He took one last look at the room that had been his prison for five summers. It was a good deal better than the cupboard, thought Harry logically. He grabbed his bag, turned, and closed the door determinedly behind him. He heard moving about downstairs, so he figured it was safe. He looked into the sitting room and noticed that the blanket (which was folded neatly) and pillows were piled on the sofa. Ron was next to them, "I told Hermione we should just leave them on the floor. She's going to burn them anyway! But, she said that just because your aunt's rude, doesn't mean she has to be. I told her she's mental."

"Where is Hermione?" Harry asked as he motioned Ron to follow him into the kitchen.

"In the loo. She's been in there a while. She's such a girl sometimes. It's rather shocking," Ron said with both eyebrows raised in shock. "I'm starving," he continued and asked Harry to hand him the bread. He would toast it quickly with his wand. "I'm of age now!" he said gleefully. Harry opened the refrigerator to get out the butter and jam.

"Morning, Harry!" Hermione greeted as she entered the kitchen. "Ron! You're using magic!" Ron was on the last piece of bread; he had toasted two for each of them. He rolled his eyes. "I'm of age, remember Hermione? So are you," he finished toasting the last piece with a flourish as if to prove his point. Hermione looked disappointed that she couldn't scold him anymore with the reason he had given her. Harry had poured them all milk. He had to do it the Muggle way. Strange that I care about following the rules when I'm not going back to school. Guess I'm just used to following them. He shrugged at his thought. Ron and Hermione were staring at him, as if waiting to be told what had happened last night. So, they all sat at the table and Harry recounted his conversation with Petunia to them.

When he finished, Ron's chin seemed to be magnetically attracted to his feet and Hermione had a pleased look on her face. "Hmph. Now aren't you glad that I decided to be polite about the blanket and pillows, Ron?" she said triumphantly. Then she said, "That's really amazing, Harry, and so sad at the same time. I'm glad that you asked her that question. It was one question that was on my list of what you may ask her. And the thing with the mist makes perfect sense."

"It does?" said Ron and Harry at the same time.

"Yes, it does. See, Petunia never really grieved her sister, did she? I mean she probably felt she couldn't around her husband from what you said of what he thinks of her when she talks about the mist. So, it makes since that something as slight as the Dementors' breeding mist would have the same effect on her as an actual Dementor."

Just then they heard movement upstairs. Harry decided it was time to go. He didn't want to overstay his 'welcome'. "We should get going. We'll catch the bus a couple of blocks down from here where I caught it last time. It feels odd catching it right in front of the house."

The three of them left the house and walked to the spot where Harry had inadvertently summoned the Knight Bus the summer before his third year. That feels ages ago. Harry remembered what had made him draw his wand that had summoned the bus that night. He had seen a big, black dog in the shadows staring at him. The dog had turned out to be Sirius Black, his godfather, though he had to go through a lot trouble to find that out and had to say goodbye to Sirius rather quickly. Sirius had been accused of a crime that he had been innocent of. Harry pushed away the thoughts of his godfather being hit with a curse and falling through a mysterious veil in his fifth year. Harry held out his wand and then suddenly there was a purple, triple-decker bus in front of them, honking its horns. With a glance back to his friends, Harry boarded the bus. Hermione and Ron followed.

Stanley Shunpike was not there to greet them. He was still being held in Azkaban on false charges. Harry noticed that they were the only ones aboard the bus, other than Ernie the driver. "Godrics Hollow," Harry said to the driver and led his friends half way back the bus. The trip was silent, yet very loud to Harry. Thoughts ricocheted through his mind about what he was about to see: where his parents lay dead and buried. They died because of me. Because of that bloody prophecy. I could kill Snape, I could kill Trelawney, and I could kill Wormtail. Mostly, I wish I was never born. I wish Tom Riddle were never born. I wish my parents were still alive and I wish Dumbledore still was too. I just want to be normal.

"Godrics Hollow!" hollered Ernie the driver.

"Well, here we go," said Harry apprehensively. He had a feeling he was going to cry in the cemetery. He suddenly wished Ron and Hermione were not there. Maybe they would stay back from him and just let him be. He hoped so.

Harry got his wish. The trio walked through the town, Harry in the lead, towards the cemetery where his parents rested. They found it with minimal problems, but it took longer to find the actual graves. Once they did, Ron and Hermione sat beneath a tree about ten feet away, leaning against the trunk and Harry approached marker. He knelt so he could read what it said.

Here lie Lily and James Potter

Lily Potter

1960-1981

Beloved Wife, Mother, and Friend

James Potter

1960-1981

Beloved Husband, Father, and Friend

Harry didn't know what he expected it to say. Maybe the way they had died and why and who had done it. He didn't know. It just seemed so ordinary. He expected it to be bigger. He expected a tomb in their honor, not an ordinary grave marker with the same mundane things engraved on it as if they had died in a car crash. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage!" rang Hagrid's words of seven years ago. Harry thought as if responding to Hagrid, Yeah, so is the way they actually died. I much would have preferred the car crash if they had to die.

Harry shifted from his knees to sitting cross-legged six feet above his parents. He suddenly wished for his Invisibility cloak, but he had left it with Ron and Hermione and did not want to walk over there just now. He could feel their eyes watching his back.

Why did you have to die? "Why?" he whispered. "I wish I could see you and talk to you. I guess this will have to do. I've talked to you before, in my mind. I feel like you can actually hear me there. Do you remember the Mirror of Erised? Of course you don't, it was just in my imagination. I saw you there, though. And my grandparents and great-grandparents and all that. I wish it had been real. I don't want you to think that I'm a whiner or anything. I just keep telling you what I wish. I should tell you what has been going on. Dumbledore is dead. Snape killed him; you should have just let Moony get him that night, Dad. He's a waste of air. But, I guess you didn't know."By now tears were filling Harry's eyes, threatening to escape.

"Mum? Aunt Petunia might come and see you sometime… I mean visit you… I mean…come here. I'll let her tell you what she has to say. I guess I didn't really have to tell you that Dumbledore is gone. Hopefully you've seen him up there. Sirius too."The tears were no longer threatening, but falling freely. I keep hoping that one of them will come back. Sirius fell through this veil thing at the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry. No one knows what that means. If Dumbledore knew, he didn't tell me and how am I supposed to talk to him now? Wait…

"Harry! D-D-Dementor!" stammered Ron pointed ahead of Harry who quickly jerked his head up. A cold creeping chill came over him. He raised his wand, "Expecto patronum," he said, but he couldn't think of anything happy now. He tried again, tried thinking about Ginny, but then he glimpsed the words "Here lie Lily and James Potter" and all he could muster was a faint mist. Suddenly he heard behind him, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" and a silver otter bounded its way towards the Dementor, but the Dementor stayed. What the-?

Hermione yelled, "Let's all try to cast a Patronus at the same time! On three, think happy thoughts! ONE! TWO! THREE!" A stag, an otter, and a Jack Russell terrier raced toward the Dementor. It finally floated off. The stag, otter, and Jack Russell terrier disappeared.

Harry collapsed with relief at having taught the members of the DA the Patronus spell. Ron and Hermione hurried over, bringing his knapsack. They all retrieved chocolate from their respective bags and took a couple of bites. Harry realized something, "I didn't hear my parents. When a Dementor is that close, I usually hear my parents and Voldemort the night they died. I mean, I still felt sad and everything, obviously," and he gestured toward Hermione whose Patronus was the otter. "Why didn't one Patronus drive it off?" he asked as he put his chocolate back in his bag. It had a charm on it to keep it from melting. Hermione read too much, honestly.

"I think that since the Dementors now can kiss anyone they please that they are stronger. It apparently takes more than one Patronus to drive it off now. I would hate to face one alone," Hermione shivered as she finished this thought.

"We should get going before it changes its mind and decides to come back. Where are we going now anyway?" said Ron.

Harry replied, "I need to go to Hogwarts. I've got to talk to Dumbledore. With all that has happened I completely forgot about the portrait." Ron gave Hermione an admiring glance, "Blimey," he mouthed.

"You two don't have to come with me if you don't want to. I'll be okay," Harry said in a tone that implied that he rather they didn't. Hermione spoke, "We have something to do anyway. I figured you would want to go back there first," then she rose up her hand with index finger pointing skyward, "We will, however, accompany you to Hogsmeade. Then we will go to the Leaky Cauldron, owl the Lovegoods, and if their reply is 'yes' then we will be there. When we finish there, we will owl you, Harry, and make plans to meet up. Don't go doing anything rash without us. I would much prefer if we met at Hogwarts or Hogsmeade. You know how I worry."

"Yes, ma'am," said Ron and Harry in unison. They were used to Hermione's habit of always have a plan. The trio stood up, brushed off their trousers and headed back to the neighborhood where the bus had dropped them off to hail it once again. It was mid-afternoon and they were all starving. They decided they would all grab something to eat at the Three Broomsticks before parting. "What are you going to ask the Lovegoods, Hermione?" asked Harry. This was the first he had heard of this. "I'm going to ask Luna to be a Secret-Keeper…for my parents," she said as if afraid of what memories the words "Secret-Keeper" would arise in Harry.

Harry paused for a moment and turned back to look at his parents' grave marker. Suddenly, he remembered something. He waved his wand and conjured a bouquet of white lilies, jogged over, and placed them on top of the marker, kissing it with his hand. "Bye, for now," he whispered and jogged back to join his friends and face his destiny.