Chapter 4

Hermione gets to her office in the morning and finds Harry sitting on her chair, wearing some kind of black leather armor and a silly grin. She blinks twice. "Good morning, Harry."

"Good morning."

Hermione stares at him, waiting for an explanation of his presence. He rotates her chair back and forth, keeping the grin. Finally, she snaps. "What do you want, Harry?"

The grin disappears and he seems to hesitate. Hermione's Harry-sense flares up and she frowns. Trouble. "What's the first spell you saw me perform?"

The grin is back. "Oculo Reparo."

She nods and grins back. A nasty though occurs to her and she frowns. "Everything all right with Rose?"

"He nods." "She's fine." He gets up and walks around her desk stopping when their noses are about a two feet apart. "About Rose..."

He lets the sentence drop, which begins to annoy her. "Spill it, Harry! I don't have all day."

He looks at his feet and shuffles a bit. "Nothing happened yet."

The irritation turns to actual anger. "Harry..."

"But I think it just might. Soon."

She raises her voice. "What are you talking about,..." A sudden thought. Her mouth snaps shut midsentence. She goes around her desk, her mind racing. She sits and scowls at Harry. "Proceed."

"I've been attracted to Rose for a while now."

Hermione presses her lips together and frowns. Harry can almost see the little wheels spinning behind her eyes. "I assume Rose welcomes your... advances." Her tone is glacial.

Harry snickers, and Hermione frown deepens. "I've made no advances. Yet. Rose, however, has made her interest abundantly clear."

A chill runs down his spine. Hermione's gives him a look straight out of Snape's repertoire. "This is unacceptable."

"I've told myself that a time or two."

"Yet, you're still moving forward." Harry nods. "Incest is a bad idea, Potter." Harry flinches but stays impassive. "And not just for biological reasons."

"I know."

Her eyes glisten. "This needs to be said. " She sits up. "You were in the room when she was born. You changed her diapers. You comforted her when she was hurt or scared. 'Awwy' was one of her first words. It's a parental bond nearly as deep as the one Ron or I share with her. Anything romantic is all wrapped up around that, hopelessly entangled with it. How can either one of you trust your feelings?"

"I know."

She raises her voice. "So, how can you let this happen?"

The silence stretches. Harry looks at her, serious and a little shamed. She keeps an angry frown, waiting for an answer. "Hermione..."

"What?" A near scream.

"There's magic at play."

She slaps the desktop. "Magic!" Harry startles a little. "Can you be more specific?"

He shakes his head. "Not at this time. The best I could do would sound like Dumbledore's obfuscations." Hermione grumbles indistinctly. "I'm very sorry."

"Are you? Really?"

"I hate upsetting you."

A tiny little smile. It is her Harry, after all. They've been to hell and back, together. Her shoulders slump. "It's fine, Harry." She dismisses his apology with a hand waive. "So?"

"Well..." Harry gets up. "Madam Weasley, will you consent to my courting your daughter?"

She snorts. "You're asking the wrong person." Tradition would have me asking Ron. Right.

"That would be a waste of breath."

Hermione sighs. "Yes, Mr. Potter-Black. You have my consent to court Rose. At the end of the day, I trust you implicitly."

Harry releases a breath he didn't know he was holding."Thank you."

Hermione sits back, closes her eyes and snickers. "At least, both her taste and yours seem greatly improved."

Harry smiles. "Thanks?"

"Get out of here. And let me know how it goes."

"Will do, guv."

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Another couple of weeks of hard training. Job leave extended while training proceeds full time. Rose can feel her body adapting and her magic stretching to fill the new demand. Teddy shows up every other morning. Looking at him and Harry sparring is sobering. At times they seem to move too fast to see, and their dueling is nothing short of breathtaking. Teddy is a transfiguration man, relying a lot on distraction and creativity. Harry is pushed a bit, but Rose can see he is still far from putting in his all, even against such an amazing wand as Teddy.

After lunch, back at the cottage, Rose comes to Harry for the afternoon training. He surprises her a bit, suggesting they take the rest of the day off.

Maybe we could go for a walk."

She looks at her crossed legs. "That would be nice."

"There's a mountain lake. It's about two hours northeast of here. The trail is rough, with a couple of short climbs."

"Are we swimming?"

"Sure. The water is very cold, though."

Rose smiles broadly. "I don't mind. A picnic, then?"

"I'll prepare it."

The trail is, for the most part, a steep ascent into the hill on the back of the cottage. Throughout the walk, a beautiful view from the forest below, and the clear day stretches the eyes all the way to the motorway seven or eight miles away. A few birds, squirrels and voles. Low hardscrabble vegetation with gnarly trees scattered about. The air smells clean and sharp. They talk little, just Harry pointing out different species of birds and plants, and helping her with a mumbled suggestion or an occasional hand.

Rose is in fairly good shape, by now. However, when they get to the lake, she's sweaty and a little winded. The lake itself is roundish, about a hundred feet across. Rocks surround most of it, with a few trees growing between the rocks. To one side, a small flat with low grass and heather to set up their blanket The water is crystal clear and looks, indeed, very cold.

Harry uses magic to clean a patch of grass, pushing small rocks and removing anything thorny and extends a large blanket on the ground. While he's doing that, Rose removes and folds her clothes, down to her bikini. It's that little white string number Harry has seen before in a picture. It looks good on her. With a quick run and a scream, she plunges into the lake.

She squeals, laughs and uses an elegant crawl to swim towards the opposite shore. Harry stands near the water, watching her with a smile..

She screams from the other side. "Are you just going to stand there ogling me or are you coming in?"

Harry lies. "I'm not ogling you. Just admiring your swimming form."

"You're a bloody liar!"

As he undresses down to his speedo, he whispers to himself. "Yup."

He is nowhere near as good a swimmer as she is. He gets close to her and she dives, going under him and pulling him under by his legs. He comes up spluttering and tries to catch her. She laughs, avoids him and splashes his face. He promptly returns the splashing, and she laughs, diving and pulling him under again. They continue to play catch in the cold water, and Harry is dunked a few more times. Finally, she swims back to shore, and he stays a little, catching his breath, and trying to quiet his heart.

When he steps out of the lake, Rose is lying belly down in the towel, sunbathing. Her top is gone.

Harry just stands and stares, about fifteen feet away, poleaxed. She feels his presence there and turns sideways, holding her head up in one arm, with an expression of mischief and seduction that mimics exactly the one from the picture. His universe contracts to pairs of perky breasts and bright amber eyes.

Harry's is entranced. He breathes slowly through his mouth. His eyes gleam a soft emerald, with the intense struggle happening inside him.

She checks him out, from the strong legs, the barely concealed erection to the wet scarred torso and messy hair. He is not a big man, but the sense of controlled power coming out of him is unmistakable. She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue, as attracted to him as he obviously is to her. And a lot less conflicted. "Like what you see, Harry?"

The question breaks his trance, and he answers in a hoarse voice. "Yes."

She pats the place next to her in the towel. "Then come get it."

Their first kiss becomes more very quickly, as their long denied mutual hunger asserts itself. Harry is on top of her, then inside her. Short triggered, they come quickly and noisily. It's not enough. They rest a bit, lying entwined on the towel. And then they are at it again. Their second time is both slower, and intensely more satisfying, beginning with fingers and tongues, and ending in Harry taking Rose from behind, with soft bites on her neck, just as the fox likes. It's glorious.

After, Harry thought they would talk. Instead, Rose shifts, running into the woods like a pack of dogs is coming after her. Although he is a little disappointed, Harry laughs to himself. He figures Rose is using Blacktip to help her getting a handle on her emotions and avoiding a conversation she isn't ready to have. She's young, maybe too young, he thinks. He would have to give her a little space.

Much later that day, Harry is sitting for dinner and Rose walks in, stark naked in her human form. Harry follows her quietly with his eyes, a little smile in his lips. He enjoys both the look of her naked form in motion, and the newness of staring without dissimulation. She serves herself of the thick vegetable soup, a chunk of homemade bread and sits next to him with a grunt.

After she eats about half her dinner, she sits back a bit and looks at him. "You're enjoying this a little too much." Smug old prick.

Harry smirks, not wanting to make it easy. "Enjoying what? Dinner with you?"

"No. This." She gestures, indicating the two of them."

"Ah." Harry tries to look innocent. "What's not to enjoy?"

She frowns. "I can't believe you went for it." Harry keeps his thoughts out of his face and stays quiet. "Shouldn't you be feeling all conflicted and guilty right now?"

He smirks. "I'm all tied up in little knots, inside."

She slaps him in the shoulder. "Prat!"

He rubs the offended shoulder, pretending pain. "You mean, 'how can my sweet old godfather shag the living spit out of poor little me, give me three orgasms, and then have the gall of feel good about it?'"

Sarcastic. She agrees with a nod. "Easy!"

She bites her lower lip, trying not to smile. She loves a bad boy. Then the situation asserts itself again in her mind. She broods a bit, but then she finally looks into his eyes, getting a little lost in them.

Harry catches the changed emotional tone. He caresses her face and asks in a soft tone. "Did I disappoint you?"

"No! Of course not." He smiles. "But you did surprise me. I never imagined you'd go for it."

His tone goes a little sharp again. "So, heavy flirting, followed by an outright invitation is safe, as long as you're sure I would not go for it."

Harry is a little too sharp! She gets up and paces. "No!" A slight head shake. "Yes!" She sits back down and looks like she's about to cry. "You're confusing me!"

"You surprise and amaze me." She frowns. "Of all the things you might bring up..."

She waves a dismissal. "We'll talk relationship later. It's just that I don't understand." Her voice dims into a murmur. "I need to understand."

Harry guffaws and Rose gets a little offended. She hates being laughed at. Harry waves his hands apologetically. "You're truly her daughter!"

She dismisses his comment with a violent head shake. "Please..."

"Seriously, I'm not entirely ok with it. Still, I don't really mind being conflicted. Not if I get to shag such a sexy little fox."

She blushes cutely. "Oh." Bad boy, indeed.

"My moral compass hasn't really pointed north in ages..."

She smiles. Smart bad boy... "Lust aside, why?"

Harry laughs a bit, but there is no humor in it. "Seriously. You're irresistible. And I'm no saint."

She shakes her head in denial. "I know I'm hot. But I'm no veela." He could have anyone.

Harry snorts. "Cookie cutter blonde airheads."

Rose shakes her head. "Not all of them."

"True. Fleur is no airhead."

"Neither is Dominique."

He raises an eyebrow. "No?"

"No!"

"I'll take your word for it."

She pulls her shoulders back, pushing her breasts forward. "Irresistible, really?"

His eyes turn a little glassy. "Yes. Very much so."

"I'm still not buying it, Harry."

"I'm a little afraid I'll scare you away if I try to explain further."

"You'll annoy me if you don't."

He pretends to be horrified.. "Merlin forbid!"

She snarls "Don't mock me."

"Sorry." Harry's face turns into a cold academic mask. "Potters are known to fall once, hard and at first sight."

She replies in a sarcastic tone."Who, me?"

He continues with the lecturing tone. "My father saw my mother for the first time at the Express when they were both eleven. He pursued her relentlessly, in the face of mocking, contempt and stony rejection for six years. Then she caved in. My great uncle Charles was thirty-one when he first saw sixteen-year-old Dorea Black. Their families were bitter enemies. He moved heaven and earth to win her. Albus and Scorpius. Most times Potters succeed in their pursuit." Harry shrugs. "Sometimes they don't."

"What happens then?"

"Nothing horrible. They settle, I guess. Continuing the line."

Rose stares at Harry for a long time, her head swirling. There's something in this story that still bothers her a bit. She thinks about what he said, and it becomes a little clearer. She sits up and looks him in the eyes. "Just one thing, Harry. This Potter 'she's the one' thing is nice and fine, but it's a little too much for me right now. We can have some fun, and see where it goes. No strings, at least for now. Is that ok?"

Harry sighs. "Well... In truth, I wouldn't have started anything with if all I wanted was a little fun, Rose. I do hope for more."

"Understood." She smiles. "Fun for now, though. We'll see about serious stuff later."

He hesitates, but changes his mind midthought."I have nothing against fun, Tip."

"'Tip'. Hmm... I like that." She crosses her legs and asks in a lighthearted tone. "When did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I could be your 'one'?"

"I thought we would avoid the subject, for now."

"I'm a fox. Just as curious as a cat, but smarter."

Harry snickers, and takes on a goofy smile as he recalls the moment. "It was some get together at the Burrow. You were thirteen. A plain light green dress, right above your knees. Barefoot. Tiny little breasts, no brassiere." Harry laughs a bit. "It hit me like a bloody bludger to the head. Mortifying, to be honest. Romantic and erotic feelings bubbling up. For a young girl I regarded, up until that day, as a second daughter..."

"Oh..." Rose blushes and Harry shrugs. "Pervy uncle!." She giggles. "I wish I knew..."

He narrows his eyes at her. "And what would you do?"

"Brag. Of course!"

Harry nearly chokes, laughing. "When you started throwing yourself at me..."

Rose stares at nothing for a bit, and then suddenly giggles again. "It wasn't just you, you know?"

Harry frowns. "Whot?"

Rose approaches Harry, crossing her hands behind his neck and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. "I've been having fantasies about you since I was very young. Steamy girly dreams." She kisses him again, this time deepening it. They lose themselves for a couple of minutes. When they end it she continues, in an airy tone. "It never bothered me, though. I thought it was perfectly normal. Half the witches in this continent diddle themselves thinking of you."

She pulls him to the sofa. He sits and she straddles him, snogging and rubbing herself on his concealed erection. Before she takes off his pants, she adds in a hoarse tone. "You're pretty irresistible too, old man."

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

He comes out of the bathroom, an expectant smile in his lips. Six foot five, broad shoulders... a little flab around the middle. Still, a fine figure of a wizard, enough to make her very happy at times. She closes her book, sets it aside, breathes in and out slowly. This is not going to be easy. "Harry came by the office this morning."

He shrugs, dismissively. "Hermione..." He slides a hand slowly up her leg. She nearly gives up, but she is not sure about bringing this up afterwards. She grabs his errant hand.

"Ron..."

"What?" He pulls his hand from hers, a little annoyed. He looks at her serious face and sighs. "What did he want?"

Best to rip the band-aid. "He asked my permission to court Rose."

He blinks once, twice... Hermione waits for an explosion. Instead, he looks confused. "What?"

"Lord Potter-Black asked me for permission to woo our daughter Rose."

He sits on the bed, passes his fingers through his hair. "It's not possible. He's her godfather."

"So?"

Now the old temper begins to awaken. "He can't! It's not right!" He gets up and begins pacing. Voice raised. "Besides, he is supposed to ask me!"

Hermione snorts. "Right."

"What?" He gestures broadly. "I should go there..."

She shouts. "Ron!"

He deflates a bit. Nobody in their right mind confronts Harry Potter in anger. "What? Are you on his side?"

"Of course not. I'm on Rose's."

"This is not right." Ron paces some more. "He's too old."

She speaks slowly, trying to reach her husband's more rational side. "There are good reasons why this is wrong, love. Age difference is not one of them."

He throws his hands up in frustration. "What's the reason, then?"

"It's incestuous. It will tear the family apart. It's a political minefield. It will put her too much on the spotlight. It will put her in danger..."

"All right, all right!" He stops and looks at her, anger and confusion stamped on his face. "What do we do to stop this?"

"Nothing."

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?"

"I mean we do nothing." Hermione sighs. "It's Harry and Rose, love. Once they make up their minds..."

"Hmm. There's no stopping either one?"

"That's exactly right."

Ron sits down on the bed, bent forward, holding his head with both hands. "Merlin! This is so wrong! I can just imagine them together. It's..."

Hermione adds coldly. "I'll live my life without that image, Ron."

"But how can they do it? If I think of Lily..."

"Lily is your blood niece. She looks a lot like Ginny. That would be disgusting."

"It's the same thing, damn it!"

"No, Ron. It isn't."

Ron continues to mumble to himself and shake his head. Suddenly, he lifts his head. "Wait..."

"What?"

"Did you say he asked your permission to woo Rose?"

"I did say that, and yes he did."

"And what did you answer?"

"I said yes."

"But... why?"

"That's complicated. First, he said there was magic involved."

"Magic."

"Yes."

"What kind of magic?"

"He wouldn't say. I think he wasn't exactly sure."

Ron shakes his head. "It's hard to argue with it, isn't it? Mother magic knows better and all that."

Hermione gives him a suspicious look "That sounds like pureblood idiocy."

"Maybe. Probably." He puts his hands up in frustration. "Oh, bollocks! How would I know?"

"The bottom line is that I trust him. We talked and he showed he had a lot of the same concerns that I did and that he worried about her well-being just like a proper godfather would."

"A sick, pervy kind of godfather."

"No argument from me."

"Mum and Gin are going to go bonkers."

"I'm just glad you didn't go bonkers."

"Right. Thanks."

Hermione laughs a bit. "You are taking this a little too calmly..."

"Look, she's been out of control for a long time. I heard she slept with all the boys her year and above, and half the girls."

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"All right, fine. But..."

"Ron..."

"At least, if she is sleeping with Harry, we'll know she will be safe, right?"

Hermione laughs a bit. "Unless something crazy happens. It's Harry, after all."

"Him sleeping with my daughter is crazy enough. I'm still going to punch the idiot."

"He will probably let you have one punch."

"Aren't you exaggerating? It's just Harry..."

"Ron, do you have any idea what he does for a living these days?"

"He's some kind of consultant for the Ministry, isn't he?"

"No." Hermione purses her lips. "You can't repeat this. To anyone. Ever."

"What?"

"He consults for the ICW about containing ongoing threats to the Statute of Secrecy. At least that's the way the bureaucrats in Geneva would put it. Basically, he kills Dark Lords."

Ron laughs, unbelieving. "He kills Dark Lords." Hermione nods. "How come I've never heard about this?"

"The ICW is real quiet about it."

"Damn Potter!"

"There is more." Hermione presses her lips together. "He's training Rose. That's how it all started. He says she's got potential."

"As a Dark Lord killer?"

"I think so."

Ron stares at the wall for a while. "Two punches."

With a small predatory smile, Hermione stretches and kisses him in the cheek. "Make them count."

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Harry wakes up slowly, and does not open his eyes. The warm witch in his arms is the reason for it. She sleeps with careless abandon, tired, sated even, after long hours of physical and magical exercise, and an intense bout of love-making. They've been lovers for a week today, and Harry knows very well he's never been quite this happy. He feels her breathing change, and a small postural shift that tells him she's awake. "Rose."

"Hmm." She nuzzles him, sniffing deeply. "What?"

"Do you usually sleep naked?"

"No." She snorts a little. "I usually wear old sports jerseys, like that Utah Jazz of yours. By the way, what's that?"

"American Basketball team."

"Hm."

"I saw them play once. Against the Phoenix Suns."

"Really? How was it?"

"Intense. Do you know Basketball?"

"I have a vague idea. Fast game, with a single bouncing ball that goes through a small hoop?"

Harry laughs. "A fair description, I guess. Do you like watching sports?"

"Not Quiddich. I hate the way people go on and on about it..."

"Now, that sounded like it came straight from your mother..."

"Nah... mum is a closet fan, by the way."

"No!"

"Yup! You think she could stay married to Daddy if she wasn't?"

"You may have a point. One of life's mysteries, cleared up."

"Oh?"

"You know, what they saw in each other."

"That's no mystery, silly." She kisses him. "She thinks the big lump is the sexiest thing since legs were invented."

Harry guffaws. "Ok..."

"Besides, she's put in a lot of effort in getting him properly trained."

"I guess I can see that."

"Dad, on the other hand..." She stops to think a bit. "He worships the ground she walks in, of course."

"Of course."

"Besides, I think she lets him take off the broomstick, so he can poke his junk up her tushie."

By the time the sentence ends, Harry is rolling around his bed laughing. Rose smiles softly, clearly very pleased with herself. "I hope that's more than a metaphor."

"Well... it's a fine looking ass, you know?"

"Of course it is. Yours is finer, though. Even when she was your age."

Rose pouts a bit. "Yet..."

Harry lifts his hands in apology. "We just haven't gotten there yet." It should take a little time to get to anal sex with a new girlfriend, right? Unless she is Rose.

"There is no time like the present, right?" Gleefully, she turns around, kneels in the bed and lifts her bum, offering it. It's a cool, tingly feeling, the cleaning and lubricating spell he casts with a circular motion of his finger. At first, she thinks he is playing with a finger, but his motion quickly disproves that. It's another advantage of sex with a metamorph. He begun thin. She feels herself getting fuller, as he makes it thicker and longer...

It is much later that day that Harry and Rose are having dinner at a crowded food truck in Islington. There are several clubs in the neighborhood, and Harry and Rose just came out of a long stay in one of them, sweaty and rather pleased with themselves. Clubbing was Rose's idea, after she decided her nether region needed a little break from the insatiable metamorph. Harry was a little reluctant, but after he saw Rose on the little silver dress and the high heels, he was completely sold. He is looking like a young combination of James and Sirius, wearing black slacks and a white shirt. The couple skipped the long line and attracted a certain amount of attention.

"Why, Harry? Why? She was sooo cute!" She might have had a little to much.

Harry laughs. He's a little tipsy too. "I'm not really ready to share you." His eyes linger on her cleavage and he licks his lips. "Even with a clearly underage blonde with fake tits."

She pushes his shoulder. "You grump! They weren't fake!"

"Maybe not. What's with all the enthusiasm for a threesome, Tip?"

"Well..."

"What?"

"You may be a little too much, sometimes..." She bites her fish sandwich and steals one of his crisps. "Besides, I like girls too. Who the hell ever heard of a boy refusing a threesome, hm?"

"I'm not really a boy..."

"What? You need romance?"

"Romance is good."

"So, if I want a threesome, we have to take our third on a date?"

"Maybe two or three." He makes a little gesture for a privacy spell. "And I'd prefer to stick with magicals or squibs."

"Why?"

"We can't be ourselves with a muggle. And I hate obliviating peoples after sex."

"Well.. allright. I get it. But I might set us up with a friend or two, then."

"Give me another month to enjoy just the two of us."

"Ok." The little smile shows she's actually pleased with that.

"Rose, I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What?"

"Are you mad with your parents for some reason?"

She squints, as she screws on her serious face. "Oh, no! Dad is awesome." There's a little pause. "Clueless, but awesome."

Harry snickers. "I couldn't agree more."

"Right?" She seems to deflate a bit. "Mom.. I love her, really. But she is frut... frustrating." Articulating that last word takes a bit of effort.

"What's the problem?"

"It's no problem. It's just... she's so uptight and judgy!" Rose whiny tone sounds younger than her twenty-one years. She gathers back her dignity and sounds a little more forceful. "I've been trying to figure out how to tell her about us. Trying and failing."

"She knows about us, Tip. I told her."

She stiffens up, vulnerability turning into anger in a flash. She is a Weasley, after all. "You told her?"

"Well... not quite. I warned her something might happen."

"And why would you do that? Without telling me?" Frosty. Not quite the hot Weasley temper after all.

Harry sighs, sitting upright. "You know how important your mum's friendship is to me."

"Yeah, so?"

"If we came to her afterwards, I mean, if I came to her, she would never forgive me. I would lose her trust. At least that's how I would react if things were reversed."

Rose stares at him for a long time, her slight drunkenness gone. The cold in her eyes melts a bit. "What did she say?"

"She wasn't happy about it."

"And..." Smart little vixen.

"She... approved. Reluctantly"

Rose releases a breath she didn't know she was holding. "I see. I don't think that's how it would go if I was having that conversation with her."

"No. She trusts me to look after you, even if we're involved."

Rose adds two and two. "And she doesn't trust me to look after myself."

Harry looks at her and articulates slowly. "With reason."

Rose looks at Harry for a long time, a slight magical gleam in her topaz eyes. "I'll have to do better, won't I?" Now she looks older than her years.

"I'm helping you with that."

She gets up and sits on his lap. Arms around his neck, she lowers her head and pulls him into a deep kiss. Harry's heart soars. A step forward has been taken. Their lips part and she whispers. "Let's go home?"

Home. "Sure."