Remus had come to see Harry that evening. By now, it had become customary for him to do so since the war had ended. They would meet up at Grimmauld Place and simply keep each other company to combat loneliness, or talk mostly about Teddy. Although that occurrence had started as Harry had isolated himself from Ron and Hermione as well, it had remained, although things were better now.
Harry wanted to be a good godfather and asked Remus, every single day, all possible details about the child, never getting bored if by chance some things were repeated.
He had also confronted Remus several times, worried that he was stealing Teddy's precious time to be with his father, but he had been reassured by his former professor, who had told him that with Andromeda's help, he could afford a few breaks now and then.
But there was something wrong today, Harry sensed it almost immediately. Remus was more elusive than usual.
Harry, despite his curiosity, knew full well how annoying it was to have people prying into his affairs, so he had tried to let it go.
But then...
"Harry, I have something to tell you," Remus said out of the blue, as if he could no longer contain himself and had to reveal something at all costs.
The raven-haired boy looked at his parents' long-time friend with probing eyes, almost as if he wanted to delve into his soul. Perhaps the time had finally come when Remus would tell him what was tormenting him.
But Harry felt a strange sensation, almost of unease, of anguish.
Why was Remus looking at him almost fearfully?
"Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like what you're about to tell me, Remus?" asked Harry rhetorically, bluntly voicing what was wandering through his mind.
Remus, if possible, seemed to take on an even more tired expression. "Because you've always had a good sense for these things," he simply replied, crinkling his eyes nervously.
Remus really did his best to visit him as much as possible. Maybe because he had realised that he had become the boy's last port of call, especially now that he was one of the two people aware of his situation.
"Speak, I'm listening," Harry said, seething at Remus' less than reassuring words.
"You well know that even with Voldemort dead, some of his most loyal Death Eaters who managed to escape continued to sow terror as best they could," Remus said, stopping to get up and go pour himself a glass of water.
Harry didn't like the direction the talk was taking at all. And he especially didn't like the fact that Remus was so agitated to talk to him about it. But he waited, albeit quivering with anxiety, for him to resume the conversation.
"Let's say there was a sighting," the man said all at once.
The silence grew heavy between them.
"Who is it?" Harry asked, his voice suddenly becoming cold and devoid of any desire to joke.
Remus took a few moments before answering. "Dolohov."
The boy didn't move an inch, but his face seemed to harden, more and more, and his eyes grew dark.
"Do you think he's aiming to go where I think?" asked Harry in a voice so hoarse and low that Remus had to move closer to be able to understand the question.
Now the boy understood perfectly why Remus had been so hesitant to reveal this information. He now had much less chance of being able to control him and predict his moves, as he was much stronger and faster.
They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever.
"Yes. But, Harry..." tried to add Remus.
But it was absolutely useless.
Without him being able to do anything, a gust of wind replaced Harry, who had just moments before been sitting opposite to him.
He wearily ran his hands over his face, trying to rub away the tiredness that had suddenly become overbearing on his features. He turned again to drink water, and wearily laid his head on the cabinet in front of him. "Fuck."
Meanwhile, almost five miles away from Grimmauld Place, Hermione had just finished dinner with her parents. That evening they had talked about the next day. In fact, they were going to Hermione's grandparents' house to have dinner with them. And Harry would also be there with them.
Her parents, when she had returned with those wonderful roses, had exchanged a fleeting glance and a smile, believing they were unseen. By now theirs was almost a mania, they were really curious to meet this infamous boy that Hermione never stopped talking about.
Finally this 'morbid curiosity' of theirs, as Hermione ironically called it, would be satisfied tomorrow.
Shaking her head at this thought, which made her smile, Hermione had just crossed the threshold of the door to go out into the garden to take out the rubbish. That little outing of a few minutes stretched considerably as she had to stop and admire the beautiful starry sky that evening. Even though it was summer and very hot, there was a light breeze in the evening that made being outside at that hour really enjoyable.
"Now I see why Harry likes it so much..." sighed Hermione, wandering with her hazel eyes from star to star, searching for the brightest one.
She closed her eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the cool wind on her face and in her hair, imagining she was wandering among those stars light years away.
"Good evening, Mudblood."
That damn voice interrupted that moment of serenity in which she had found herself. The stars were in her vision, this time not because of the beautiful view, but because she felt faint. An overpowering whistling sound crept into her ears. She turned slowly and a rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins as she recognised the figure of Dolohov staring at her with a smug grin.
She began frantically searching her pockets for her wand, only to remember with a shudder of fear that it was resting comfortably on the bedside table in her bedroom.
"Don't tell me there are witches walking around without their wands these days..." he smiled more broadly, taking on a creepy air.
Hermione took a few frightened steps backwards, not losing sight of him. She absolutely could not scream, there was a risk that her parents would hear her and something terrible would happen to them. But luckily she knew the Aurors would soon intervene. After all, Kingsley had practically forced her to agree to have her parents' house guarded. At least that would have helped.
"Don't worry Granger, there's no rush. The Aurors won't bother us in any way..." he said, running his wand over his throat, mimicking the gesture of cutting it. "You know, I'm becoming more and more convinced that they shouldn't send freshmen to guard high-risk subjects..."
Hermione's eyes went wide in terror. She slowly turned her head, and saw her parents sitting on the couch chatting happily, oblivious to everything.
She went back to staring at Dolohov in front of her, who was now pointing his wand at her. Hermione closed her eyes, ready for the end, as a tear rolled down her soft cheeks.
I'm sorry, Harry.
Dolohov chuckled satisfied with the situation, "Avada-"
Hermione squinted, waiting for something, a feeling, a green light, which never came. All she felt was a sudden gust of air who did nothing but flutter his curls.
Strange, that gust of wind seemed much more powerful than the previous ones.
Slightly startled, she opened one eye peeking out, only to notice that Dolohov was no longer standing in front of her. She looked around quickly, but he was nowhere to be seen. Almost believing she was already dead, she looked towards her home. Her parents were still sitting on the sofa.
Hermione ran into the house, believing that he had decided to kill them first instead of her.
Her mother, seeing her coming back in with bated breath, became worried. "Hermione, are you all right, dear?"
Ignoring her completely, Hermione ran up to her room and retrieved her wand. Then she returned to the living room, where her mother was looking at her in amazement. She did the most logical thing she could think of.
"Expecto Patronum."
Her Patronus stopped in front of her, finding no imminent danger to her mistress.
"Message for Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin. Dolohov has been here and I do not know where he has gone," she explained, in a confident, authoritative voice. "Hurry, please," she finally added, referring to her otter.
The Patronus disappeared through the wall of the room, and Hermione went back to paying attention to her surroundings, her wand clasped between her fingers.
She now had no choice but to do one of the things that made her most nervous.
Wait.
Dolohov opened his eyes wide. Initially bewildered, he quickly recovered, leapt to his feet and began turning in all directions, trying to figure out what the heck had happened.
But all he could realise was that he was in the middle of a forest and all that was around him were the tree branches and leaves, illuminated by the moonlight.
How was that possible when only moments ago he was about to kill Granger?
"Dolohov."
The Death Eater turned abruptly towards the voice that had just spoken his name. He had managed to recognise that voice, although it was slightly different from how he remembered it.
Harry Potter was sitting listlessly on the branch of a mighty oak, the moon behind him marking its contours. He had one leg flexed on the branch and the other dangling, his head supported by a hand resting on his temple. His emerald eyes stared at Dolohov with a gaze that exuded pure hatred. He must have been at least ten metres off the ground.
"I can't believe I have such dumb luck. Potter," smiled Dolohov, with the air of someone who has just won the jackpot at the casino. He made to reach for his wand, but couldn't find it. Turning again to stare at Harry, he saw him playing with it, twirling it between his fingers.
"Were you looking for this?" the boy asked with amusement. "I thought I'd better take it. You know... Heaven forbid anyone gets hurt."
Dolohov grunted in frustration and swallowed loudly. The situation was definitely not the best. He tried to disapparate, only to fail miserably and realise that the bastard must have cast an Anti-Apparition charm.
"Do you really think I was stupid enough to let you disapparate?"
Then, to Dolohov's amazement, he saw Potter snap his wand, stand on the branch, stretch and jump down from the tree, landing from a height of ten metres as if he had just come down a house step. The Death Eater was looking at him wide-eyed, as if he had just seen a ghost.
Harry wiped his hands from the foliage he had just landed in. "I'm not letting you go anywhere. You were about to do something really irreparable. And I'm going to make you pay for it."
Dolohov did not even have time to respond when a punch, practically invisible due to the speed at which it was thrown, struck him full in the face, shattering his left side and sending him flying several metres from where he stood.
Almost bored, Harry snapped the fingers of the hand with which he had just punched him. Then, he didn't give Dolohov time to realise what had happened and with an inhuman sprint he was on him again. With one hand he put him back on his feet, sending him flying into a tree.
"Potter... Please... Mercy..." blew Dolohov weakly through what was left of his mouth.
Harry smiled with bitterness and disgust. "Oh, mercy you say?" he said, approaching the man.
The latter put his arm in front of him as if to shield himself from Harry. He, in response, grabbed the man's forearm and pulled hard. In the blink of an eye, he had torn his arm off and blood had started gushing everywhere.
Dolohov screamed until his vocal cords were torn.
"Incendio."
Harry, not minding the man who was screaming from the depths of his lungs or his blood that had coated him, pulled out his wand and cauterised the wound with fire, lest the Death Eater bleed to death and suffer too little.
"Let's see," seemed to ponder on his next choice Harry. "I might actually let you go if you relay a message to your remaining little friends..."
As he groaned in pain, Dolohov made yet another bad choice. "Never!" he shouted, and attempted to hit Harry with his remaining arm, with a punch to the face.
Harry simply let his fist impact his face and it did not even scratch him an inch.
Then he grabbed his wrist and with a sweeping motion rotated it with a one hundred and eighty degree turn and a noise that would make anyone's skin crawl.
Dolohov slumped to the ground with his eyes wide open, screaming more than before.
"What the fuck are you, Potter?" he cried on his knees, on the verge of tears from the pain he was feeling.
"Someone offers you a chance and you turn it down like this... How rude. At least make yourself useful."
Dolohov trembled from head to toe when, after Harry had licked some of his blood from the edges of his mouth, his eyes turned obsidian black and his face became whiter than before, sprinkled with black veins branching out from his eyes.
"Disgusting," Harry blew fiercely, drawing out his sharp canines and biting the Death Eater in the neck with surgical aim. He sucked Dolohov's blood so vehemently that it began to gush from his mouth and spurted directly from the unfortunate man's jugular. The impetus was such that he suddenly ripped his head off.
After satiating himself, he dropped Dolohov's head from his teeth. Harry's eyes returned to normal and narrowed slightly as he stared at what remained of the Death Eater.
Without further hesitation, he grabbed the body and the head and then, began to run.
"Hermione, I may believe you, but you will understand perfectly well that what you are saying doesn't make much sense."
Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, had rushed with a whole team of Aurors to the Granger house. Remus Lupin had arrived shortly afterwards.
It was Kingsley himself who said these words, after Hermione had told him for the umpteenth time what had happened to her.
"I understand that perfectly well, Minister," Hermione replied with a snort. "But that doesn't take away from the fact that it's the truth! Dolohov was here and just before killing me... He disappeared!" tried to explain Hermione without being absurd. She was exhausted.
Kingsley though confident of the girl's words, knowing her talents, could only be sceptical of this. "Remus, do you have any ideas?" asked the Minister, who had noticed that he had not said a single word since they had arrived. In fact, he had merely listened. "Remus?" he had to call him back, for he was deep in thought.
"Oh, excuse me. I-" Remus thought about it for a moment, shifting his eyes and fixing them on the girl. "No. No, I have no idea what could have happened. I believe Hermione, that's for sure," he said, nodding his head in her direction. Hermione looked at him grateful.
Kingsley nodded silently with a small sigh of frustration, then excused himself and went to talk to the Head Auror.
Hermione also absented herself for a moment and went to her parents' room. Before everyone arrived, she had asked them not to be present during the investigation, to make everything easier, promising to explain everything to them as soon as possible. They, albeit with some regret, understood the girl's motives and stayed in their room.
After a few minutes, she returned next to Remus, waiting for the Minister to give her some news.
"Hermione, have you by any chance heard from Harry?" asked Remus suddenly after a few seconds that the girl had returned.
Hermione was a little surprised by that question, but tried not to give it away. "You mean today?" she asked. Remus nodded.
"No," she replied with a shrug. "I haven't heard from Harry since yesterday, when I told him where my grandparents live... You know, for dinner," Hermione explained further. "Is there... Is there a problem with Harry, Remus?" she asked slowly, looking worried.
"No!" replied Remus a little too vehemently, startling the girl. "I'm sorry, Hermione. No, Harry's fine. I'm just a little worried. You know, you're one of the few people he talks to about everything," he tried to explain, gesturing nervously.
"Try not to worry. If it will reassure you, maybe I'll try to talk to him tomorrow," Hermione said, trying to reassure him.
"Thanks, I'd appreciate that," Remus smiled faintly.
They quieted down when they saw Kingsley walking back towards them.
"Well Hermione, you and your parents can rest easy. I've had the house and perimeter checked. There's no sign of any Death Eaters," Kingsley explained, in an authoritative tone. "You can sleep soundly."
Hermione thanked him, even though, for some strange reason, she almost wished they had found him. At least she wouldn't look like she was imagining things. "Thank you, Minister. I'm sorry to have bothered you."
"You can call me Kingsley, Hermione. No need to apologise, your safety is absolutely among our priorities. I'm sure I'd see Harry bursting into my office in a matter of minutes otherwise..." he attempted to lighten the situation with a joke, to which both Remus and Hermione smiled, knowing there was a kernel of truth in it.
"Well, then we-"
"Minister, we have a problem!"
The deep, confident voice of the Head Auror boomed just outside the main gate.
Kingsley, Remus and Hermione came out with quick steps upon hearing such a tone.
"What's going on Jackson?" asked the Minister as he waited for an explanation from the Auror.
"We found Dolohov."
Three pairs of eyes widened in disbelief at that revelation.
"What? Where?" asked the Minister hastily, ready to deploy orders to organise the capture.
"Whitehall," replied Jackson simply, swallowing.
Kingsley paled. "You're telling me that Dolohov is practically in the Ministry of Magic and we're still standing here talking!?" he railed, getting angry and pressing a hand on his subordinate's chest menacingly.
"Sir, he's dead."
The Minister's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? What are you saying?"
"Dolohov was found dead there," Jackson repeated. "He suffered various mutilations including the loss of one arm which was cauterised during the act, the breaking of the other arm and... Decapitation," the Auror explained with a final huff. "The killer left a mark... I think you should see it."
The air had just become incredibly heavy and everyone's mood had turned ashen at the revelation of such cruelty.
"Rigor mortis?"
"An hour ago."
Kingsley turned sharply to Hermione and took two hasty steps towards her.
"Hermione, please tell me you had nothing to do with this. You'll understand that it doesn't get any better when the last person to see Dolohov, found just outside the entrance to the Ministry of Magic after being brutally tortured, is you."
Hermione arched her eyebrows in surprise.
"Kingsley! How can you insinuate such a thing?" asked Remus, genuinely shocked. "You know how rule-abiding Hermione is!"
"I'm just trying to do my job," said the Minister a little angrily.
"Is there a problem here?"
Almost none of the three could believe, for different reasons, that they had actually heard that voice.
Harry Potter was walking slowly towards them, his hands in his pockets and the utmost calmness stamped on his face.
Hermione flew into his arms and Harry did not let her fall. He hugged her, letting her squeeze him with all the strength she could muster.
"Are you all right?" he asked, searching her eyes.
Hermione remained hugging the boy, but Harry heard her nod several times.
"Harry, what are you doing here?" asked Kingsley, suspicious.
"Don't look me like that, Remus warned me," Harry explained pointing with a nod of his head at Remus, who arched his eyebrows. "And before you go off on him," he anticipated Kinglsey, noticing how he had promptly turned to Lupin, "You know I'd never have forgiven him if he hadn't told me."
Kingsley remained silent for a while and then merely nodded, though decidedly against the situation.
"We're leaving," he announced at that point. "I'm sorry for the situation Hermione, but if it comes to that, I will find myself forced to ask you further questions."
Hermione, meanwhile, had detached herself from Harry and turned to stare Kingsley in the eye. "If it becomes the case, Minister, I will do what I can to help you," she said promptly.
Before long, the entire Auror team and the Minister left, leaving Remus, Hermione and Harry alone outside.
"I'll leave you two to talk. I'll wait for you, Harry," Remus said simply, walking away without looking at either of them.
An awkward silence crept in between the two.
"Do you want-"
"No Hermione, it's definitely too late and I don't fancy your parents meeting me in this unfortunate eventuality," Harry replied, anticipating the girl, who was about to ask him if he wanted to come in.
"Yeah, I thought so," she said, smiling slightly.
"I'm glad you're okay," Harry told her, looking into her eyes. Then, with a courage unknown to him, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow evening then, right?"
"Yes... Y-yes, tomorrow night," hastened to nod Hermione, who had turned red as a pepper.
"Good night," Harry said, walking away after he had greeted her with a nod of his head.
"Good night, Harry," the girl replied, turning around and walking towards the front door of the house.
Harry went to meet Remus, who was waiting for him not far down the street.
Once he was in front of him, they looked straight into each other's eyes, as they had done earlier that evening.
"Do you want to talk?" asked Harry simply, without stopping staring at him.
Remus huffed, almost feeling out of place. He should have been the one to ask that question. "Now? Absolutely not. Let's go."
They disapparated.
Antonin Dolohov found dead in front of the Ministry of Magic with the words 'YOU ARE NEXT' carved on his chest. Do we have a vigilante among us?
"So that is what you have become? A vigilante?" Remus asked, slamming the newspaper on the table in front of Harry.
The boy looked curiously at the newspaper and then went back to sipping his coffee. "Weren't you the one who didn't want to talk about it?" Harry asked with an arched eyebrow.
"I said not now. Not never."
"My fault," Harry said with a shrug. "However, no. I am not a vigilante. I just protected someone I cared about and gave a warning of what will happen to those who try to harm her."
"You could have just caught him and left him at the Ministry, Harry!"
"Because that's what they did with the people I cared about, isn't it?" he ranted, getting irritated.
"So you became like them?"
In a flash, Remus and Harry were within inches of each other, with the latter staring hatefully at his former professor. The cup the boy was holding had shattered on the floor. "Don't you dare. I'm not like them. You know what they put me through, what my life has been like, and yet you dare say that?"
Remus seemed to have a boulder on his shoulders from the night before. He had not said a word and simply walked away. Then, in the afternoon, he had returned to Harry, with neither of them saying anything. But when he had then read the headline on the front page of the Daily Prophet, their tongues had melted like butter and were pouring out all the silence that had built up.
"No, I..." Remus fumbled for the right words to continue that conversation. "I didn't mean that, I'm sorry, Harry."
Harry continued to look at him, but at those words, his hard, cold face softened, and he returned to being the boy Remus knew.
"I know. I'm sorry, too. All that blood, you know. Gets to your head and leaves you with residual anger inside," Harry tried to justify himself, rubbing his hair hard and letting himself fall into the chair nearby. "I guess the monster nature that lives inside me showed up for real this time."
"Definitely. Despite me being on your side, this is a problem Harry, a big one. Kingsley can't afford to lose control of the Ministry now. The whole Auror Department is on alert too," Remus explained. "It could happen that some remaining Death Eaters try to attack Hermione, or the Weasleys... What will you do then? Are you going to kill them too? So you'll get caught?" he asked, as if to emphasise the reckless nature of what he had done.
"I'll do what I have to and try not to get caught," Harry said dryly, not backing down. "Although I can understand that you don't like my methods, my nature is always to try to protect my loved ones if I can. And now I can."
"You should let justice take responsibility," Remus retorted simply.
"FUCK!" gasped Harry, slamming his hand with all his might on the kitchen table that was in front of him, shattering it. "Shit, Reparo," he fixed him with a bored motion of his wand. "If I had waited for justice last night Hermione would be colder than me by now, Remus," Harry said cruelly.
Remus paled slightly and seemed to question his own morality. "What would your parents think of me?"
Harry immediately said nothing. Then, perhaps understanding Remus' state of mind, he softened and laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault Remus. None of this is. Not even... Not even what happened to Tonks is," Harry felt Remus take a heavy sigh. "I'm sure she's resting in peace, knowing you're there to look after Teddy."
Perhaps those were the words Remus needed, because although it wasn't a very macho gesture, he stood up and exchanged a hug with Harry, sharing a grief he knew was common.
"Only if it's necessary, Harry," he said enigmatically, grabbing his coat and walking towards the door. "Only if strictly necessary."
Hermione's grandparents lived on the outskirts of London. It was one of those neighbourhoods full of houses, which turned out to be somewhere between a city street and a country street. Not too many houses, but also not so few as to be a desert area.
The boy had disapparated as close as possible, according to Hermione's directions. He had looked for the house number and, when he had found it, had turned into the driveway of a pretty two-storey house with a garden. Unfortunately, it had reminded Harry a little of the house on Privet Drive. But he certainly wasn't going to ruin his morale or his evening for this unpleasant appearance.
He had rung the doorbell and immediately heard voices, among which he distinguished Hermione's.
"Harry, you're here!"
Hermione had thrown the door wide open and immediately gone to hug him. He was trying to reciprocate as best he could, but he had a bouquet of flowers and bottle of wine keeping both his hands busy.
"Hey you, it seems like it's been forever since we've seen each other," he chuckled, teasing her a little.
"Oh, give me a break, I know you're happy to see me too," the girl said, pulling away from his embrace and sticking her tongue out at him.
"You know, I have to admit you're right," Harry replied sincerely with a wide smile. "You are beautiful," he then added simply, believing it was the right thing to say.
"What are you talking about, Harry..." huffed Hermione softly, embarrassed, as she stared at the toes of her feet, obviously finding them very interesting. "I'm dressed as usual."
"Exactly."
If possible, this answer, made the girl blush even more.
"Come on in, everyone is eager to meet you," she told him, stepping back a few paces and waving him through the door.
"Thank-"
Harry stopped suddenly just before he walked through the door.
"Um, Hermione, this is your grandparents' house, isn't it?"
Hermione looked at him curiously, a little taken aback by the question. "Yes, that's right. Why do you ask?"
"You wouldn't happen to call your grandmother?" asked Harry with a small, embarrassed smile at Hermione's inquiring look.
"I... Well, yes, of course, wait here," she replied, decidedly taken aback by the boy's behaviour.
As soon as the girl had entered the house Harry hurried to duplicate the bouquet of flowers in his hand so that he could give one to Hermione's grandmother and one to Mrs. Granger.
"Harry..." he heard himself called by his best friend's voice.
"Young man, I heard you were looking for me, why didn't you come in?" asked the woman kindly with a sweet smile.
"I'm sorry I called you ma'am, I was hoping to introduce myself and give you these flowers before I came in," Harry replied just as politely and smiled warmly at the woman. "Thank you for the invitation, I hope I'm not in the way."
"Oh, what a proper young man, I thank you so much," smiled the lady happily, picking up the flowers Harry had just brought her. "Don't be silly, you're welcome here, come on in."
Harry seemed to be suddenly reassured by the woman's words, and gave her a toothy smile, thanking her and finally entering the house.
"Harry, isn't it?" the woman asked once they had entered the main hallway. Hermione closed the door.
"Yes, ma'am," Harry nodded his head.
"Come on, we're in the kitchen. I guess that one's for dinner," she said referring to the bottle of wine, "And that the other flowers are for my daughter."
"Yes, ma'am, exactly." Harry gave a nervous smile to Hermione, who looked at him encouragingly happy.
They walked into the kitchen, where Hermione's mum was cooking, helped by her husband, while what must have been Hermione's grandfather sat at the table, smoking a pipe.
"Excuse me, good evening everyone," Harry said very politely.
"Ah, we finally know how to put a face to this Harry Potter that Hermione's always talking about!" Hermione's mum exclaimed, breaking away from the cooker to go and greet Harry.
"MUM!" squealed Hermione, red as a pepper.
"Oh don't look like that dear," laughed Mrs Granger lightly.
"Mrs Granger, thank you for the welcome. These are for you," Harry said, handing her the flowers. "And this, I hope is to everyone's liking," he added, referring to the bottle of wine he had brought.
"Thank you, Harry, that was very kind of you. And please, call me Jane, you don't want to make me feel old," she said jokingly.
"Not at all, Mrs... Jane. You are still very young," Harry ran a hand through his hair, a little embarrassed and not quite knowing what to say.
"Hey, you're flirting with the wrong Granger," Hermione's father teased him, stepping closer to him.
"DAD!" exclaimed Hermione again, to whom a decidedly long evening lay ahead.
"Good thing you still recognise us, sweetheart," Mr Granger chuckled. "Nice to meet you Harry, I'm Jason," he introduced himself, holding out his hand to the boy who shook it firmly, making the man smile more openly. "Nice shake. And see that you don't call me Sir by any means, I'm as young as Mrs. Granger here..."
Everyone laughed at Jason's joke, who it was understood, was a very easy-going man to get along with.
"Thanks for the bottle of wine Harry, let's see..." he picked up the bottle from the boy's hands, who let him see it. "Jesus Christ!"
"Jason!" Jane scolded him sharply. "What have you got to swear about?"
"What have I got to swear about? He brought a Château Margaux 1990!" exclaimed Jason, going back to staring at the wine with wide eyes.
Hermione's grandfather had also now stood up, approaching Jason in curiosity, making his chair screech against the floor. "The boy has good taste I see..." he said with a slight smile hovering on his lips. He nodded to Harry, sparing him the formality of the handshake.
"Sir," Harry reciprocated.
"May one ask what is wrong with the wine he brought?" asked Jane, tired of not understanding the situation.
"Oh no honey, sorry it sounded that way. There's nothing wrong with the wine, in fact. Just that it's a four thousand pound bottle."
"WHAT?" shouted Hermione and Jane simultaneously, overlapping.
"Harry!" Hermione turned to him, staring at him with wide, worried eyes. "There was no need for you to spend..."
"Oh, no problem at all. It seems the least I can do to thank you for your hospitality," Harry smiled, a little embarrassed by all the attention.
"Are you sure, Harry?" asked Jane fearfully, not wanting to offend the boy.
"Yes ma'am, absolutely."
"Well, then we thank you for your thoughtfulness, Harry. You are always welcome here," said Jane, smiling openly at him.
"That is, if every time he comes he brings a bottle of wine like this..."
"JASON!" DAD!"
Again, this time simultaneously, Hermione and her mother scolded Jason, though they were all laughing soundly at the joke.
"Can I help with the cooking?" asked Harry.
"Harry, there's no need, you know," Hermione hastened to reassure him.
"I know, but I like cooking, you know," the boy replied with a smile.
"Well, gladly then Harry. Please chop all the vegetables you see on this counter," Jane pointed out to him, approaching the counter and providing him with the knife to do such work.
Harry, Jane and Hermione remained in the kitchen to prepare dinner, while Jason and Hermione's grandparents set the table.
Jane noticed almost immediately the dexterity with which Harry moved around the kitchen. "So it wasn't to make a good impression when you said you liked to cook," she smiled sweetly at him, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.
"No, definitely not, Jane," Harry promptly replied, returning the smile. "It's one of the few things I actually enjoy."
"Who taught you how to cook?"
"Ouch!"
Harry and Jane turned sharply at Hermione's cry of pain.
"Let me see sweetie," Jane leaned closer to her daughter to check her.
"It's nothing mum," Hermione tried to reassure her, although it was clear she was in pain.
Harry walked past Jane to see what Hermione had done to herself... His eyes widened.
Hermione had just cut herself with a knife, and blood the colour of rubies was dripping from her finger like a raging river, leaving a few tiny droplets on the tiled floor.