I'd like to thank Balthazar23, Antar23, werewolfXZ, damadape, TheNarratingMan, WraithNX01, Vahktang, flixus, Lynix, TripsToTheRescue, fredfred and InquisitorCOC for betareading.

Chapter 38: The Article

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 20th, 1996

"It's worse than we thought! It was worse than we thought - they almost died several times!"

Lily was… well, she wasn't furious. Sirius Black knew how she looked when she was angry. A little too well. And she wasn't desperate. He knew that expression too, even though he had only seen it once on her face. The day she had been informed that Voldemort was after Harry.

But she was certainly worked up as she paced through the living room, even throwing her hands up a few times.

"Lily… we already knew they had been in lethal danger." James was still wearing his Auror robes - Sirius doubted that Lily had literally dragged him out of his office, but it probably had come close.

"We didn't know how close it was!" Lily snarled. "James! More than once, they raced through the jungle at night while pirates blew up the trees around them! And they barely escaped the wyvern on their floating plank - it chased them into the jungle as well until it crashed into trees!"

"I thought they were a little too cavalier when they said that the pirates were basically casting blindly," Remus commented.

"It's technically true," Sirius added, then suppressed a wince when Lily glared at him.

"Don't mince words! This is also your fault!"

"My fault?" How could it be his fault?

"You taught Harry duelling!"

"That saved his life!" Sirius protested.

"It also taught him that a miss by inches is as good as a miss by yards," Lily retorted.

"Except for Blasting Curses!" Sirius retorted. He had taught that to Harry as well, even if he hadn't been allowed to teach Harry the curse itself.

"And you taught him to lie by omission!"

Well, that was a crucial skill for any wizard, in Sirius's opinion. And it was true. Still… "That wasn't me!" he said. "I blame James for that!"

"Sirius!" James glared at him.

"What? You never told us details about your cases so we wouldn't worry too much, remember?" Sirius bared his teeth. "Harry must have noticed that."

"James!"

"That's… can we focus on how to help our child instead of trying to pass the blame around?" James replied. "As Lily found out, we missed that Harry already was acting like Moody at Hogwarts."

"What?" Sirius blinked.

"Yes!" Lily once more threw her hands. "Harry - they both - said that they already were on their guard all the time at Hogwarts because they had to expect an attack from the other at any moment!"

"Really?" Sirius blinked again. "Wow, they must have been worse than we were with Snape." But how was that possible? Snape had been a Slytherin, hanging out with Death Eater recruits. Harry and Miss Granger both were Gryffindors, and… Oh. "I see."

"Do you?" Lily rounded on him. "You kept giving Harry ideas, which perpetuated this stupid feud! How did we miss this?"

Well, we don't exactly watch over them at Hogwarts, Sirius thought. And Harry had been fine at home.

"To be fair, Lily," James cut in, "that feud wasn't really one-sided."

Sirius nodded. Just as their feud with Snape hadn't been one-sided. The nasty little bigot had given as good as he had gotten. And some of his 'pranks' had been… more than questionable. "You don't really stop such a feud by stopping…" He trailed off. That sounded stupid, now that he had said it.

"You don't stop by stopping? Really, Sirius?" Remus grinned.

"You know what I mean! You don't just stop and say you're done. Not after so much has happened. You need a resolution," Sirius replied. Or Dumbledore putting his foot down. Or a war that saw both sides on the same side. Or - and he couldn't help grinning at the thought - a passionate love affair on a desert island.

James winced, Sirius noticed. And Remus blinked. And Lily was… staring at him.

"Any resolution," Sirius quickly clarified. "You need to ensure that both sides stop." Sirius certainly wouldn't have stopped going after Snivellous. Not while a war was going on and he was doing who knew what with his Slytherin friends when no one was watching. Wait. That had been an unintended wordplay! "Anyway, they stopped, so that's good."

"Good? They are used to watching out for an attack or trap! They think it's normal!" Lily scoffed.

"That probably saved their lives on the island," Sirius retorted.

"They aren't on the island any more! They're safe now!"

"Mostly," Remus said.

Sirius stared at his friend. As did James and Lily. "Mostly?" Lily asked.

"Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye on… certain circles."

"Werewolves?" Sirius didn't know what werewolves would have to do with this.

"Bounty hunters and their informants," Remus clarified. "Some smugglers."

Ah. Part of what the work Remus did for Dumbledore when he wasn't teaching. Sirius really needed to get his friend to settle down. He couldn't spy on that kind of riff-raff forever. Sooner or later, he'd slip up - or one of the scum would get lucky.

"Does Dumbledore think that there'll be a price on Harry and Miss Granger's heads?" James asked.

"Not exactly - that would quickly spread. But they generally know if suspicious people arrive in England." Remus shrugged. "He thinks, and I concur, that the risk is minimal, but as long as there's nothing more urgent…"

Lily shook her head. "There's something more urgent: Keeping Harry and his friend from cursing their fellow students by accident. We can't let them stay like this!"

Sirius frowned. "Now… let's not be hasty. It's not as if they are casting dark curses." He certainly hadn't taught Harry any dark curse.

"Not yet," Lily spat.

"And a Cutting Curse isn't exactly harmless, either," James chimed in. "In fact, we get more cases with that curse than with dark curses."

"I don't think Harry will be casting a Cutting Curse at anyone, either," Sirius retorted. "He didn't kill any of the pirates, did he?"

"He could have - some were severely hurt," Lily shot back. "He didn't even know if he had killed anyone!"

"Well, he didn't want to kill them." Sirius shrugged. "So, I doubt that they'll be any more dangerous at Hogwarts this year than they were last year." The two hadn't seriously hurt each other, anyway.

"They didn't have to fight for their lives last year." Lily shook her head. "They aren't the same."

"That doesn't mean they are like Moody," Sirius pointed out. "And even Moody hasn't killed anyone by accident. And he knows lots of dark curses. And how to hit people."

"Harry's a talented duellist. And Miss Granger didn't strike me as inept at Defence, either," James said.

"So they'll stun some idiots who should've known better." Sirius shrugged. "I don't see the harm."

"And what if those 'idiots' cast Shield Charms, and Harry casts another curse in response?" Lily asked. "We missed how paranoid they already were. We can't underestimate them again."

That was… sort of true. They had missed how Harry felt at school. Although… it wasn't too different from Sirius's time at Hogwarts. Snape had been quite sneaky, as befitting a Slytherin, and you had to be on guard anyway. Well, Sirius also had had to worry about the rest of his family after the falling-out with his parents. Regulus, the little… He sighed. "Anyway, I'll talk to them when I'm training them, and I'll stress making sure you know your target."

LIly rubbed the bridge of her nose. "It's not just about ensuring they aren't a danger to the other students, Sirius."

"It isn't? I thought that was what bothered you."

"It's also about making sure my son and his girlfriend aren't spending the rest of their lives like Moody: Always expecting an attack, always feeling in danger… How could anyone live like that and be happy?"

"Well, Curse-Breakers are in constant danger," Sirius pointed out before he could help himself. "And Bill and Fleur looked happy."

Lily glared at him again. "Curse-Breakers also have one of the shortest life-expectancy amongst wizards!"

"A bit worse than Spellcrafters, yes." Sirius nodded.

And Lily's expression shifted into an angry snarl. Well, if she didn't like him pointing out when she was a hypocrite, then that was her problem. Although it could also become his problem, he reminded himself.

"I only take calculated risks and with the strictest security precautions. But more importantly, I don't worry about being attacked at any moment. And neither do Curse-Breakers!" she spat.

"Harry and Miss Granger aren't that bad," Sirius retorted.

"But they could be," Remus spoke up again. "They don't want to acknowledge that they need help. They think expecting an attack is normal."

"And we completely missed that!" Lily shook her head.

"To be fair, Harry didn't act like that at home," James said.

"We still should've known," Lily said. "I'll have to ask Rose if she noticed anything."

"Don't blame her!" James quickly said.

"Of course not! We're the parents; this is our responsibility. And our mistake."

And he was the godfather. Still… "I don't think it's that bad."

"You already said that," James pointed out.

"It bears repeating. Look, let's not assume the worst." He gave Lily his best smile. "Let's see how things work out for the next few weeks. It's only been a few days; they still need to adjust." After the war, Sirius had spent a few months drinking his way through a not too small part of Grimmauld Place's wine cellar. Although it seemed Harry had found another way to forget whatever he wanted to forget and get over his nightmares.

"Great. So they can curse the guests at his birthday party?" Lily arched her eyebrows.

"Well, those will be his friends, so they won't try anything stupid," James said. "Although we might want to talk to the twins and explain things."

Right. Sirius nodded. Fred and George were very talented wizards, but not the most cautious ones. Molly should be glad that they had chosen to open a joke shop instead of picking a more dangerous career, actually. Although… "I think the twins stopped bothering Harry and Miss Granger at least two years ago."

"That doesn't mean that they won't attempt anything now," Lily said.

Sirius didn't make a comment about how that was paranoid. "Anyway, let's just wait and see and talk to them with some restraint."

Lily grumbled, but James nodded. And Remus didn't object, which was as good as agreement.

Good. "So, I'll start working on what spells to teach them," he said, getting up. "Tomorrow will be their first lesson."

"I'm sure Miss Granger already has the syllabus ready," James commented in a dry voice.

Everyone laughed, though Sirius wouldn't put it past the girl. On the other hand, she didn't know all the spells Sirius could teach them, so that should make it easier to get them to listen, in case she wanted to learn curses.

Or if her selection was missing some key curses. After all, while having Harry accidentally curse someone wouldn't be a good thing - unless it was Narcissa's spawn - having Harry be killed because he lacked the spells to defend himself would be far worse.

Kingston upon Thames, London, Britain, July 20th, 1996

Hermione's room was just like Harry Potter had expected: Stuffed with shelves that were stuffed in turn with books. There was almost no room for any pictures on the walls; he could only see a few family photos in frames. Oh! He leaned closer. There was Hermione as a toddler. She already had her mane.

"Oh, really!"

He turned and saw that she was blushing.

"Those are just some old pictures," she said.

"You look cute in them." And she did. There were some of her time at Hogwarts, too - or, rather, showing her in her robes with her parents in the house. One for every year, it seemed. "Family tradition?" he asked as he pointed at them.

"Yes. We take a picture every September First."

"Wish we had thought of that," Harry told her. "It's a nice tradition. On the other hand, I'd be in pictures with Rose, and we'd probably be squabbling." They did in some, at least. All Rose's fault, of course.

Hermione sat down on her bed, causing her monster of a cat to shift and protest a little. "Probably. I think our old pictures would be squabbling as well. Unless pictures can learn."

"I doubt that," Harry replied. "They're not like portraits. More like… small movies."

"Yet they do react to stimuli, like portraits," Hermione pointed out. "Ever set a Daily Prophet on fire? The people in the pictures try to escape." She grimaced. "It's not a nice sight."

Harry grimaced himself. "I can imagine. When did you set a Daily Prophet on fire?"

"After the Quidditch World Cup," she told him.

"Why?" She didn't hate Quidditch.

"The article made fun of the muggle owner of the field where the cup was held. Someone had kept obliviating the poor man." She frowned. "It wasn't his fault, he was the victim of stupid procedures and inept handling of the situation, and they made fun of him stumbling around. I was so mad…" She shrugged.

Harry nodded. That made sense. He didn't remember reading about that part. But, he realised with some shame, he probably would've found it funny himself. Like some of the clips of people falling down that you could see on the telly. Which, in hindsight, probably weren't that funny, either. Just painful for the people involved.

He sat down on the bed as well, triggering another growl from the cat. "So, we survived your parents."

Hermione snorted, but she didn't look amused. "They weren't as bad as your mother."

"Lily," he corrected her.

"Lily," she repeated. "It'll probably take me some time to get used to that."

"Probably." He sighed. "But your parents aren't experts in spells or have combat experience. Mum knows more than they do."

"They still think - they feel - that we've lied to them all the same."

Which was true. Both that their parents thought it, and that they had lied, if only through omission. Harry nodded. "Nothing we can do about that, though. We'll have to wait it out."

"And hope it doesn't harm our efforts to learn more spells and get more training," Hermione added, hunching her shoulders a little.

"It won't." Harry grinned at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Sirius wouldn't agree with that."

"He's just your godfather," she pointed out.

"And he's been helping me break the rules he thinks are stupid all my life," Harry retorted. "He'll do what he thinks is right."

"Even against the wishes of your - our - parents?"

"Yes." Harry firmly nodded. He knew his godfather. "Besides, Mum and Dad will see reason. As long as we don't curse Malfoy too badly or something." Even if the git probably deserved it.

"Then we better don't curse him at all," Hermione said. "Nothing that would be seen as an attempt to seriously hurt him."

"I guess so." Harry pressed his lips together. Malfoy had behaved himself for months now, but Harry doubted that the idiot could last much longer. Not after the article appeared in the Prophet. "Maybe he'll stick to talking about us behind our backs."

"Do you think so?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"I hope so."

"Better prepare for some half-brained attack, then." Hermione slipped out of his arm. "We should have a response prepared. Something that won't break too many school rules and can't be seen as a serious attack against him, but will ensure that he won't dare to bother us again." She grinned. "I think we should be able to come up with something suitable."

Harry matched her grin. "Of course." This was, after all, what they had been doing for years to each other. "But something new - we can't repeat ourselves."

"That's true." Hermione nodded and reached into the drawer of her desk, retrieving a small notebook.

"You keep your notes in your desk?" Harry blinked. That was far too… "Ah. You must have cast a few protections on it."

"False bottom in the drawer and the book itself is protected." Hermione looked proud. "A combination of muggle and magical means."

"Ah." Harry nodded. It still seemed a bit reckless - his own notes were always in his enchanted pocket - but he could see how this would deter her parents from finding it. "We have to work on getting you an enchanted pocket or something."

"I've got a few ideas about that. But first, let's plan how to humiliate Malfoy if he bothers us."

"Right!"

Kingston upon Thames, London, Britain, July 21st, 1996

Hermione Granger was woken up by the sound of someone pecking against her window. Groaning, she rolled on her side - away from the warm arms of Harry, who was still asleep - and took a look. It was an owl. And not Lavender's owl, but Harry's psychotic snowy owl. Great.

"Harry! Your pet's here."

"What?"

"Hedwig's at the window," Hermione explained.

"Let her inside."

"So she can attack me?" The owl had some grudge against her. She wasn't like Crookshanks, who was perfectly fine with Harry and even slept on his legs! And gave him a massage with his claws.

Harry groaned again. "Hedwig won't attack you."

"Tell that to her." The owl hadn't attacked her so far, but she did look quite angry. And here, in her room, Hermione couldn't simply use a spell to teach the animal not to mess with her, should she attack Hermione. Not that this was likely when Harry was around.

"Come on, Hedwig! I'm up. Do you have a letter for me?" Harry walked over to the window and opened it. He was only wearing shorts, so it was a nice sight.

Hermione grabbed Crookshanks, who was sleeping at the foot of her bed. In a fight, she'd bet on her cat, of course, but she didn't want to see her pet hurt either way.

"Oh! It's from Sirius!" Harry beamed. "You went and got his letter for us, right? Good girl!"

The owl preened.

"Now, let's see if we have a treat for you…" Harry started going through her desk.

"Those are cat treats," Hermione told him when he pulled a small bag out of the drawer.

"Good enough for owls; both eat mice."

"That's not how it works," Hermione started to explain. When she saw his grin, she sighed.

And released Crookshanks, who was already struggling in her arms. Her cat pounced on Harry's leg, making it clear that he wanted his treats.

"Ow! Watch your claws, furball!"

"Don't be a baby," Hermione retorted. "He just wants to defend his own treats."

"Well, sharing is caring!"

Crookshanks's protests showed he didn't care. Harry still fed some treats to his owl, but at least he also fed Crookshanks.

Then, as Hedwig settled on the backrest of Hermione's chair, Harry opened the letter he had received. Or they - Hermione spotted her own name on the envelope as well. "So, what does it say?"

"It's a reminder that we have our first session with him today."

"He sent a letter for that? Did he fear we'd forget?" Hermione shook her head. As if she'd forget such an important thing!

Harry handed her the letter. "He also sent a reminder to buy duelling robes and a few other things, like an enchanted wand holster. It's like a Hogwarts letter, except it's for Duelling training."

It wasn't quite the same, in her opinion, but as she skimmed the letter, she had to admit that it came close enough. It seemed Mr Black took his lessons seriously. "But that means we'll have to go to Diagon Alley," she said. "And on the day the Daily Prophet will contain our interview." She frowned. "Shouldn't your godfather have the latest issue already?" Why hadn't Mr Black sent a copy with Hedwig? She had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"You're right." Harry frowned as well. "Hedwig? Care to return to Sirius and ask if he's got the Daily Prophet yet?"

The owl barked in response, startling poor Crookshanks.

"I'll write a short note," Harry said.

"Stationery is in the drawer," she told him.

"I saw it, thanks." He was already grabbing a sheet and a pen.

Hermione stretched. "I'll head to the bathroom, then."

With a bit of luck, Harry's owl would be back by the time she was finished. The owl might be psychotic, but she was very fast.

Harry Potter glanced to the side and watched as Hermione dropped the nightshirt she had been wearing and put on her short bathrobe before leaving the room. He had seen it all - and more last night - but still...

He shook his head and focused on finishing his letter. Well, technically, it was a letter, but it was more of a short note. A text message on paper, carried by an owl.

Hedwig barked again, and he frowned at her. "Patience, Hedwig. I'm almost done."

Another bark.

"And please don't attack Hermione. I've already told you that we made up and that we're now a couple," he added.

Hedwig turned her head away in response. Drat. She really carried grudges.

The feeling of needles pricking the skin on his leg told him that another pet also carried grudges. Or wanted more treats. "No, Crookshanks, you've already got your treats."

This time, the cat voiced his complaints with a meow. Harry ignored him and finished the letter. "Alright, here you go, Hedwig!"

She barked once again, let him tie the envelope to her leg, and took off. Now they just had to wait for a bit, and they'd know what the Prophet had done with their interview. It couldn't be too bad, could it? They had stuck to the truth, and the journalist hadn't been Skeeter.

He stood and stretched, then looked around in the room. "Let's see what books she has…" he mumbled, walking over to the closest shelf.

There were a lot of books. Fiction and nonfiction. Nonfiction on this shelf. Mostly about magic, Harry saw - lots of older, slightly ragged tomes. Used books - Hermione had been looking for those in Knockturn Alley when this whole thing had started, he remembered. A few books on curses, but he didn't see anything really questionable. Sirius's library had worse. And Harry was quite sure Mum had books hidden from him and possibly even Dad.

But it was quite the collection, especially for a muggleborn. Hermione must have spent a lot of money on this. Or time to find them for cheap.

And compared to the Black Library, or even the Potters', it was nothing.

He frowned. The Hogwarts library dwarfed the Black library, but you only could use it as a student. Once Hermione was finished with Hogwarts, she wouldn't be able to use it any more.

"I guess this explains her attitude," he mumbled. Muggleborns really were disadvantaged. If Mum hadn't married Dad, could she have worked as a Spellcrafter? Harry didn't know for sure, but he suspected the answer was 'no'.

Mum loved Dad, Harry knew that as well. But would she stay with him even if she didn't love him, just to have access to the library? She had expanded it some, but replacing all the books belonging to Dad would still cost a fortune.

Hermione wasn't with him for his books, he knew. She hadn't even known about the library when they had gotten together. But now she knew.

He shook his head. He didn't want to dwell on that. He had to trust her. And Hermione wasn't the sort of girl to live a lie, so to speak. She was the sort of girl to hex you in the face if she was fed up with you - he knew from experience.

Chuckling, he took a look at the next self. Mostly muggle books. Physics, Chemistry, History. Lots of History books. Well, he had expected that.

He hadn't expected the books next to that shelf, though. Fiction. Some of them were the classics he had read himself or that Mum had read to him. Her old books. Enid Blyton. Dickens. Austen of course. And others. But those in the lower row? He inclined his head. Those he didn't know. He pulled one out - 'The Dragon Wizard'. There was a man on the cover wielding an oversized wand with his robes so ragged, you could see his entire chest, facing a dragon, while a witch in even more ragged robes stood at his side, wand held tightly. Both were moving - this was a wizarding novel.

He blinked. That was… He quickly opened the book to a random page and then started skimming.

...and Hephaestus drew his wand, easily dwarfing his enemy's feeble counterpart, before waving it in a complex yet enticing manner while his rich voice filled the clearing with his melodic chanting. Before the ruffian could react, his clothes transformed into a steel snake, binding him in place before swallowing his wand.

Hortensia felt her heart skip a beat at the display and had to swallow. Such skill! Such grace! Such rugged handsomeness! So different from the suitors at her father's manor, which were mostly Ministry employees who had never faced anything more dangerous than a Flobberworm. The young witch realised at that point that she could never be satisfied with the life her parents had planned for her. And she realised something else, something primal...

Harry blinked again and closed the book. This was a… Rose had called them robes rippers when she had wanted to visit the bookstore on their last trip together to Diagon Alley.

Hermione read robes rippers!

He shook his head. Who would have thought that? Well, her best friend was Lavender, but still…

The door behind him opened, and Hermione entered, clad in her bathrobe and her hair only partially dried. "The bathroom's…" she trailed off, staring at the book he was holding.

"Oh. Uh, I was curious, and…" Harry told her.

She blushed a little. "It was a gift from Lavender."

Harry looked at the two packed rows with similar books before he could help it.

"I don't like owning only one book of a series," Hermione went on. She was blushing a little more now.

Harry nodded and slid the book back into place - though he had to press the rest of the books to the side; the shelf was tightly packed. He didn't comment on the fact that the books looked well-read; she might have bought them used, after all.

He straightened and turned back to her, though what comment he had on his lips went forgotten when he saw that she had dropped her robe on the bed and he was looking at a pair of lacy, racy pants.

"That was a gift from my aunt," she told him with a smirk. "Though I'm not sure whether I should wear them if we're going to buy duelling robes and have a training session today."

"We can easily mend them!" he blurted out.

She frowned a little in return. "I wasn't afraid of them getting damaged. But I don't want to make the wrong impression."

She had worn rather plain underwear for the sleepover at his home, Harry remembered. "I, uh, don't think Sirius will see your underwear," he said. His godfather better not!

"That means the Stripping Hex is banned?"

That wasn't the correct name - it was called the Disrobing Hex - but Harry nodded anyway.

Things had changed, after all, compared to last year. Changed a lot.

Hermione Granger felt as if her face would burst into flames. Teasing Harry by dressing provocatively in front of him - and picking lingerie - had sounded far easier in her head than actually doing it. At least it was working - he was staring at her with rapt attention. And he wasn't saying anything about the embarrassing books he had found.

Of course, she had a feeling that he'd still tease her about them, albeit at a later date. Not that anything was wrong with reading those books. They offered important insight into the culture of Wizarding Britain. And they allowed her to connect with her fellow teenage witches. Like Lavender. That was what she had told her parents when they had wondered about this part of her library. Mum and Dad had liked that. Enough not to tease her about it.

And, Hermione admitted, if only to herself as she put on her bra, the books might be written with prose so purple, you could dye a king's entire wardrobe with it, and more holes in their plots than there were in a fisherman's net, but they were fun to read. Although the ones dealing with pirates, harems and deserted islands she would skip for the foreseeable future.

She stood. "Can you close it up for me?" she asked, turning her back to Harry.

"Uh… sure," he replied.

She smiled when she felt his hands on her back. Her cheeks might be burning, but this was fun. She felt sexy like this. She knew she wasn't as pretty as other witches, much less a model, but just now? She felt as if she was the most attractive girl in the world.

"Thank you." She turned. "So, you like the set?" She placed a hand on her chest. "The lingerie," she added with a smile.

"Uh, yes." Harry nodded several times. "They're very…"

He was interrupted by more pecking on her window. Hedwig had returned. Once again, Hermione reminded herself that Post Owls were magical creatures - they flew much faster than their non-magical cousins.

"Hedwig!" And Harry turned away, opening the window. "Good girl!"

Hermione suppressed the small bout of jealousy.

"Oh! Here's Sirius's letter - and the Prophet!" Harry handed her the newspaper before opening the letter. "He says sorry, he was planning to frame his copy, so he had to go and buy another one…"

But Hermione wasn't listening any more. She was staring at the front page of the Daily Prophet.

Young Couple Conquers Pirate Island! The True Story of the Potter Kidnapping!

There was a sketch of Harry and her, battling a wyvern. A drawing that could've graced the cover of one of the novels from which she had just distracted Harry. Both of them were wearing 'artfully ripped' robes, hers much more revealing than Harry's. The amount of fabric left was larger than what her actual clothes would have covered, but most of it was flaring in the wind. And Harry apparently had taken a Vanishing Charm to the chest that had reduced his own robes to what was effectively a ragged loincloth. Facing them was a wyvern which was… actually the correct size. But the angle of the sketch made it appear even larger at first glance. Especially moving as it was - it dived at them, Harry sending a curse at it, before Hermione summoned him to her and the wyvern crashed into a pit full of spikes. All in all about ten seconds of a dramatic and tantalising performance that would have made any tabloid proud.

"What the…?" Harry trailed off.

Hermione didn't care. She was skimming the article. She couldn't spot anything clearly wrong, nor any blatant hyperbole, but the whole text was worded to make their experiences much more dramatic and hair-raising than they had actually been. And, she noticed with a growing blush, much more romantic as well. Again, there was nothing particularly explicit in the article, but it was certainly highly suggestive.

"The average reader will think that all we did was fight and have sex on the beach," she muttered.

"Well… there are two lines about eating coconuts and fish," Harry pointed out. "And one about constructing a shelter."

"It reads as if we drank coconut cocktails in a love shack on a tropical island," Hermione corrected him. "There's nothing about malnutrition, or tropical storms, or infections."

"Probably not dramatic enough," Harry said. "Oh. Look at that!" He pointed at the next page.

A dozen pirates chased the young couple through the jungle, turning a large part of the island into a cratered field devoid of life before they finally stopped and returned to their port.

Which was technically correct, though, once again, the wording made it seem as if the chase had taken much longer than it had. Any of the chases. "Great," Hermione hissed. "We're the protagonists of a robes ripper novel. At least we're not getting married by the dashing former pirate captain at the end." She blinked, then checked. "They really called him a 'dashing former pirate captain'." She shook her head. "No one will believe this. Not written like this."

Harry, though, seemed to disagree with her assumption.

Harry Potter grimaced. No one would believe this? Hermione was wrong. But how to explain… "People will believe it."

"But it sounds like it was written for a novel!" she retorted, pursing her lips.

"It's printed in the Daily Prophet," he pointed out. "People believe what they read in the newspaper."

"That's…" Hermione shook her head.

"I know it's stupid. And a lot of people won't believe it. But many will." He sighed. "And some of them who won't believe it will believe it was worse."

"'Worse'?" She cocked her head to the side.

"That we…" He couldn't say 'married'; that would send the wrong message. He couldn't have her think that he was afraid of commitment. Girls didn't like that. "...that you're pregnant. That we took over the pirates and raided France. That this was all a hoax. That we were working for another pirate crew." He shrugged. "Take your pick."

"You sound like The Quibbler!" Hermione protested.

"People believe The Quibbler."

"What?"

"Not everyone. And not everything. But…" He sighed. "They've been right before, after all. Like the Prophet."

She sat down on her bed. "This is... " She shook her head.

"...still better than the harem story?" He forced himself to smile.

She snorted without humour. But she smiled a little as well, after a moment. "Marginally better. Instead of the helpless harem girl, I'm now the shameless seductress. And you're the cocky Casanova."

Harry grimaced. "Me?"

She pointed at the moving sketch. "Wanna bet they're wondering how many girlfriends you had at Hogwarts? And how many you'll have?"

Ew. Harry winced. That was… "Everyone knows I didn't have a girlfriend." Not really, at least.

"Really? And how many will now think you had one or more in secret?" Her eyes widened. "How many will think we were a couple at Hogwarts?"

Ugh. That was… exactly what some people would think. And what some people wouldn't think, but cheerfully spread as a rumour. "Damn," He muttered under his breath. The interview had been supposed to help them control the rumours. Not make them worse!

Her cat, which had been taking a nap on the desk, chose that moment to stretch and yawn - and jump off to occupy the bed. Which, apparently, included Harry's lap.

"Oh, Crookshanks likes you!" Hermione gushed while the little monster buried its claws in Harry's thighs.

"Nice," Harry lied. "But I need to head to the bathroom, now."

"Ah, right. Come on, Crookshanks! Let Harry go take a shower!" Hermione reached over and grabbed her cat, then lifted it up. Or tried to - Harry hissed when it felt as if the cat tried to rip off his skin. "Let go, Crookshanks! Oh, did you get your claws entangled again? Silly cat!"

By the time Harry reached the bathroom, he needed some disinfectant. Hermione's pet, unlike Hedwig, who was perfectly fine with their relationship, obviously still carried a grudge.

Fifteen minutes later, he was back in her room. The cat was gone - Harry didn't see it around - and Hermione was wearing another sundress now, which showed off her legs and hid her lingerie. And she was watching while he dressed.

He smiled at that. Harry knew he wasn't the most muscular boy in their year, nor the tallest - Ron had him beat on both counts, and Neville was getting there as well. But Hermione liked his looks and enjoyed watching him.

"So…" he asked when he finished buttoning his shirt, "what's the plan for today, then? Do we brave Diagon Alley?"

Hermione grimaced. "We might want to disguise ourselves a bit for that. But I would like some high-end duelling robes. I didn't manage to get Mum and Dad to buy me a set, but after all that we went through, I think they'll agree that I need them."

Harry blinked. Professional duelling robes weren't cheap, but they weren't too expensive, either. Certainly less expensive than Auror robes. And the Grangers didn't look poor - they certainly had more money than the Weasleys, and Ron had been able to afford a set.

She must have noticed his reaction since she added: "My parents don't like spending money on frivolous things - and duelling robes meant for professional duellists…" She shrugged. "Mum said I would get them if I needed them, not for some school tournament."

"Ah." Harry nodded. That made sense. And explained her attitude in the duelling ring. Although it wasn't as if wearing regular robes was like flying a school broom in Quidditch. Of course, even a marginal advantage like the superior cut of tailored robes' could decide a close match. And this was about staying alive in a real fight, not winning a match. "Maybe we should ask Sirius for a set of Auror robes instead," he suggested.

"Is that legal?"

"As long as they don't look like official robes, yes," he replied. "Mum got a set left over from the war. Sirius as well." And probably every other Order member left.

"How expensive are those?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Sirius can afford it."

She pressed her lips together and scowled in response but didn't actually object. "Let's head down and see whether Mum and Dad already made breakfast or we have to do it."

"Sounds good." He smiled. "I think I heard them in the kitchen when I was out in the hallway."

When they entered the kitchen, they did indeed find the Grangers at the table there. Reading the Daily Prophet.

"Hail the conquering heroes?" Mr Granger commented with a grin.

"Dad!" Hermione protested. "And where did you get a copy? We had to send an owl to Harry's godfather!"

"The Potters sent us a copy. Each," Mrs Granger replied.

Oh. It seemed Mum and Dad had lost some trust in them, Harry thought.

That wasn't a good thing. Not at all.