A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I hope you like this chapter, we're getting down to the wire folks!

Chapter 14: New Responsibilities

Hermione smiled to herself as she followed Harry out the door of his hotel room. For once she was starting to believe that Harry would finally move a step forward to the road of recovery.

That night, they made their way to the Great Northern hotel. After explaining the entire story to the management, they were lead to a small room in the back of the desk where many lost and found items had accumulated through time. The manager seeped through various small bags and purses, until he finally came upon a small luggage adorned with various labels on the outside. On the handle, a faded luggage tag, the words "John Smith, Room 202, Suitcase Unclaimed" were scrawled in with fine black ink. The man presented them with the bag and left them alone in the room

Harry opened the bag curiously and started rummaging through its contents. He picked up the worn, wrinkled dress shirt and examined it carefully. After a few frustrating minutes, he tossed it back down. "Would you be kind enough to tell the manager that this suitcase is of no interest to me, and I'm sorry to trouble him," he told Hermione disappointedly without looking up. He slammed the suitcase closed, "John Smith" he read the tag, unimpressed, "A highly unimaginative incognito. What can be more anonymous than these poor rags?"

"Nothing seems familiar to you?" Hermione opened the suitcase back up.

"No," Harry answered, shaking his head, "There's a finality about that most unrewarding find, like a door slammed and bolted," he started pacing about the room, "Now I shall learn to accept myself for what I am: psychologically defective, as Ginny saw me, as you must see me," he chuckled weakly, "You must keep my secret Ms. Hansen."

Harry grabbed his coat and headed for the door, "Will you send an owl to the West Lyndon Liberal Association telling them I'll receive the committee tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter" Hermione replied, her eyes still lingering on the suitcase.

He looked at his watch; "There's an express to London at 8:15."

"I've made reservations," she said, watching him with leave the room. Hermione turned to the suitcase, unable to hold her tears back. She cried softly as she held tightly onto the frayed sleeves of Smithy's dress shirt.

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Months went by after that fruitless search. Harry decided that the best thing to do is to put it all behind him by diving himself into as much work as he could endure. After meeting with the West Lyndon Liberal Association, he accepted the nomination for the candidacy into the Ministry of Magic. Hermione, as his secretary, supported and organized his campaign. All their work was paid off at the end of the election, which resulted in Harry's victory.

After Harry's first oration at the Ministry's meeting, he dashed over to meet Hermione at the little café down the street.

He spotted her sitting in one of the tables on the corner sipping on her tea, "Have I kept you waiting? I was delayed" he said as he sat down, "Nice of you to come down to my debut. Was I satisfactory?"

"Oh very," Hermione smiled.

"Oh waiter," Harry flagged down, "Tea, please. What would you like?" he asked Hermione, "Cake? Sandwiches? Bring an assortment," he ordered the waiter without waiting for her answer. The waiter bowed politely and went to retrieve their order.

"Thank you," she said.

"By the way, I haven't really thanked you for your help in the campaign," Harry told her gratefully, "I don't know what I should have done without you."

"I thoroughly enjoyed it," said Hermione sincerely, "Politics interest me."

"Do they?" Harry said. Without realizing, he gazed at her very intently, "I'm…um…glad of that," he replied, obviously distracted.

After a few moments of silence, she gave him an odd look, "You're staring at me you know."

"Oh," her words broke Harry's concentration, "I'm sorry. It struck me. Your hair casts a brilliant cinnamon brown in the sunshine."

"Is that all?" said Hermione, staring right back at him, "You were looking so intense."

"Oh, everyone has these feelings of having lived through certain moments before," he explained.

"You mean you have the feeling that you've known me before?" she asked, placing her elbows on the table.

"I had for a moment," Harry confessed, "As a matter a fact, I felt it quite strongly the first day you came into my office."

Hermione perked up, "You didn't show it."

"No."

"Is that why you hired me?" she asked.

"Perhaps, but it was also your air of acquired efficiency," he replied, "Forgive me, but is there any possible way you might marry again?"

Hermione shook her head, taking a sip of her tea, "Not the slightest."

"I'm asking you because I have a proposal to make," Harry told her, "I need your help with my political career."

She avoided his gaze, "Social secretary?"

"Well, not exactly," he took a deep breath, "You know, it seemed quite a reasonable idea when it came to me. But now, I'm rather losing my nerve."

"Why?" Hermione asked, "Is it so startling?"

"It may sound outrageous to you," Harry warned her, "But it's not a sudden impulse. I've thought it over very carefully," he assured. "You and I are in the same boat, Ms Hansen," he explained, "We're both ghost ridden, sounds a bit dramatic, but I think it expresses it. We are prisoners of our own past."

"Yes," she replied, still confused.

"What if we were able to pool our loneliness," he suggested, "and give each other what little we have to give, support, friendship?" he took another deep breath, "I'm proposing marriage, Ms Hansen." Harry looked down at the table and chuckled awkwardly, "or should I call it a merger? You know I'm good at mergers," he continued, "A member of the Council should have a wife, Ms Hansen, so I am told from all sides. He needs a clever hostess. You have exceptional gifts. Would it interest you to have a wider field for them? You need to have no fear that I would make any emotional demands upon you. I have only sincere friendship to offer. I won't ask any more from you."

Hermione was about open her mouth to speak when Harry interrupted, "Please, don't answer at once. Think it over. It's completely a selfish proposal. But I can't have you giving me notice you know. I'd be lost without you."

Unable to control herself, she took out a handkerchief started to wipe away the tears that were falling from her face.

"Ms Hansen, Margaret," Harry said, concerned, "Have I hurt you?"

"I don't know, I-" she dabbed her eyes, "I always boasted that I never cried."

"You will think about it?" he asked. Hermione nodded her head. "I'll call you tomorrow," said Harry, "No, I can't wait so long, tonight, about nine? I hope the answer is yes."

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That night Hermione invited Krum to her flat to tell him about the proposal.

"It was a very flattering proposal really," she said, a hint disparagement in her voice as she filled their drinks, "Rather a suggestion for a merger. He used that very expression."

"Pretty cold blooded, isn't it?" Krum replied.

"Well, it's honest," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said, sympathizing, "Sorry for myself too. I want you to be happy Mione."

"It may work out," Hermione said unconvincingly, "He might even fall in love with me. Would that be so very extraordinary?"

"It would be extraordinary if he didn't," he said sincerely, "But the situation is very extraordinary. Seems rather hard what I'm going to say. But, if you do marry him, keep to his terms,' he instructed.

She nodded in agreement, "I suppose you're right."

"And you love him?" asked Krum.

"Yes."

"You're going to be hurt Mione," he warned solemnly.

The ringing of her telephone interrupted their conversation. Hermione glanced at her watch. Before she answered, she looked up at her friend and pleaded, "Viktor, please don't be against it."

She picked up the receiver. "Hello?" she answered, "Yes Mr. Potter. Harry. You're early. Its yes, Harry."