A/N: 'Anyway, presenting another chapter of RAP. : ) I'd just like to thank everyone also the reviewers for my lovely reviews especially to all of you who've been following the story since its publication. I enjoy the feedback.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Chapter 16: Tour Guide

--

"The morning makes people feel alive, huh?" Hermione asked, quirking her eyebrows, she changed position as the sand shifted beneath her. She started contemplating, no, she doesn't feel alive in the morning. Knowing that the huge mansion is empty. Knowing that a certain friend of hers is enjoying herself silly with the people she used to be in-laws with. The morning makes her feel dreadful, because it's the time to think; 'How will my life as Hermione Granger pretending to be Casey Barrett be today?', 'What's Remus' situation now?', 'Where is Harry? How is he?'

'Why do I feel so empty?'

"How exactly do they feel alive?" She asked, snapping out of her troubled thoughts.

"It depends on who you wake up with." Harry replied with a smile on his face as he turned to meet her gaze. He smirked as he watched her face color and the blood rush to her cheeks. She looked away immediately, hiding her face. He laughed. And her posture relaxed in relief.

Enough with the worrying, she told herself, he's here. He's real. You're alive.

"Don't be so shy." He chuckled, grabbing her by the shoulder. She wouldn't budge, her arms remained stubbornly to her, trying to conceal the mischievous smile forming on her face.

Harry's fingers trailed her bare arms, until he had reached her wrist, ignoring her quivering. He fingered the charm bracelet curiously. "Hey, Casey, where did you get this?"

"My parents gave it to me." She muttered, trying to jerk away from his grip.

"Wow. What does it say? Oh wait—L, I, F… Life?"

And many things had happened at once, he grabbed her by the shoulder again, and pinned her to the sand as he secured her waist in between his legs. Hermione's surprised yell was heard, and then it was closely followed by giggles. Harry tickled her, and she squirmed beneath him. She was going red. Harry bent down, their faces only inches, and then kissed her. She kissed back in between her giggles. She tried pushing him away to give herself a chance of payback, but her arms had fell limply to her side. Harry chuckled at her attempt.

"Get off me," She giggled, as he trailed to her collarbone. "Harry—" she was cut off by her own soft moan.

They heard snapping, and their mouths parted immediately, and then they looked up.

There were crowds of cameramen around them, smiling and snapping and shouting at them.

"Who's the girl, Harry?"



"Mr. Potter! Do you two plan on getting engaged?"

"Oh man, guess who's getting a raise? Smile for us, Harry!"

"Damn it," Harry had groaned against her ear. "Let's go—now. Don't run, okay? Act normal."

His hand grabbed on to her hands and he gently tugged her up. He bent down, and grabbed their bags. He brushed the sand off his shirt, and then brushed some off Hermione's.

"Harry, I can do it by myself, you know," She laughed. "Let's go."

They walked slowly, even though the adrenaline and embarrassment would not leave them. Harry walked quietly, putting an arm around her reassuringly.

"You can stop following us, now!" He shouted over his shoulder in an attempt to let them know that they've got their shots and that they could go now, but the cameramen would not comply.

Harry cursed under his breath, and hopped inside his car. He turned the light on, and then ushered her inside as well.

"Why are the lights on?" She asked him as she made herself comfortable on the front seat. Harry held on to the steering wheel tightly, his lips tightly pressed together. After a few seconds of silence, he turned to her his angered expression gone away, there was a cheeky smile on this.

"If it were off, well, they could make stories." He said, handing her the sandwich they were supposed to eat.

"Hmm," She mused, tapping chin with her index finger. "You're right. So what do we do now?"

"One more question." He reminded her. She held her breath, "What do you want us to be?"

She had frozen in her seat, and unconsciously exhaled shakily. "I—uhm…Well, I don't—"

"Just say it," He teased, smirking. "Two words. Two words, Casey. I'll even let you guess."

--

The black BMW lay immobile, as the two people sat talking.

A mobile phone started ringing, and a photographer, who was sweating profusely due to nervousness, reluctantly grabbed the vibrating thing from his back pocket and then answered. When he had brought the gadget to his ear, he could hear the slow crackling of fire, as well as a hideous laugh that made him shiver from head to toe.

"Speak," The unknown voice had ordered.

"I, uh," The man had stuttered, "I have them."

"Are you sure that they're genuine?"



"Yes—of course." When he had said that, he heard a shrilly, eager kind of scream which was closely followed by a dark laugh—one of happiness. It was something he wished he had never heard.

"Yes! You must, you must give them to me—wait, no, tomorrow, yes, tomorrow evening. You will sleep at a nearby motel, do you hear me? Leave them on your dining table wrapped with gift wrapper—yes, preferably green and silver. And by the next day, your reward would be inside your closet. You must, I repeat, you must not go out of your house for three days after we have taken them, alright?"

"Okay," was his reply, for he couldn't think of anything else to say.

--

Dolohov laughed victoriously, his strong hands pushing the phone back into the cradle. His deep laugh reverberated and bounced throughout the wooden walls.

"Finally," He said, "They're together. Took them long enough."

Riddle looked up from his book, his eyebrows quirking as his eyes glittered slightly with red. "I still don't get your plan, Dolohov. Don't make me regret summoning you."

"Mr. Riddle," He addressed, as he sat back down on his chair. "This is what I've been waiting for. Now that they're in a relationship, things get more interesting."

"Really," Riddle mused, as he traced the blade of the knife in his other hand, "How so? And please, don't tell me that you intend on scaring our Miss Granger, really, McNair was foolish, and look at how he would pay."

Dolohov had no idea, he just watched in horror as Riddle slid his hand into his drawer, and brought out a stout pen. He knew something was bad, he could feel it. Just by looking at the weak smirk that his boss had on his face, it made his skin crawl. Riddle's long fingers put the knife down, and stared tracing the pen instead. He smiled devilishly, and pressed the tip, and then started writing nonsense on his paper.

There was a sudden explosion, Dolohov looked out the window in shock, to see a small apartment building in flames. The foundation gave way as the building started collapsing. There were distant screams, and then he watched, as tiny little people left the surrounding buildings, running away.

"Poor McNair." Riddle snickered, "Who would've known that the moment he would dial the police's number on his phone, the building would end up in flames?"

"I wonder," He mused, Dolohov was immobile, there were people who retreated the building, bleeding and crying for help. He noticed a familiar figure leave the building, it was McNair, and then another quick explosion, and all he saw was his lifeless body. "I wonder how old Mrs. Roger living on the top floor was. She shouldn't have died."

Riddle hissed quietly, and turned to look at Dolohov with a crooked smile, his eyes slightly bulging as he tore the piece of paper in his hand. He threw it into the flames, "But she did, anyway. Oh, who cares?"

"N—nobody." Dolohov choked out.

McNair was his childhood friend.

"Exactly," Riddle said, his voice getting louder. "Exactly! So here's a question. Who would care if Harry Potter, The Granger Family, and the Weasley family would die?"

Dolohov didn't have to say anything.

"Nobody. Except our Miss Granger, who would ,well, as I predict, soon follow them." Riddle said, he stood eagerly from his chair.

Dolohov quieted, and sat down on the chair as his boss continued. "I see that McNair needed extra in order for him to die, hmm? Well, don't worry Antonin, you can always buy childhood friends."

Another shrill laugh.

"So… sir," He began shakily, regaining his voice. "As I was saying, we could just kidnap Hermione and then—"

"No." Riddle bellowed, "Have you not learned anything? I say, change your plan, Dolohov. A friend of ours provided us with, let's say, enough ammunition. There's plenty more. Enough for all of us to share!" His hand gestured to the burning building.

"We could always…annihilate our clients."

And so the plan was formed, within that night, Dolohov was taking a whole new route.

--

"I'm so glad we're home." Hermione breathed, tripping through the front door. She laughed happily as she skipped towards the kitchen. "Hmm," She mused, bending down to reach the inside of a cupboard. "What do you want for dinner?"

Harry chuckled, and then joined her. "A little too excited, are we?"

"After spending two hours in your car?" She said rather joyously, "Of course I am!"

"Want some steak?" He asked, helping her bring out a few bowls, a pan and the kitchen knife. She laughed quietly, then turned to look at him with gleaming eyes.

"Sounds great."

He laughed, and then headed towards the stereo to put on some music. Soft, melodic music started to play. Hermione looked at him inquisitively.

"You always appealed to me as someone who listened to rock." She mused.

"I do. But you appealed to me as someone who listened to classical music." He whispered. She looked at him, and smiled.

"I'm still waiting for that answer." He mumbled.

They had spent two hours of silence in Harry's car, for Hermione, who couldn't think of what he was referring to, decided to stay quiet. Harry was not offended, for some odd reason. He was too absorbed in an air of happiness to be offended. And when he wanted to say something else, she had fallen asleep against the window. He pressed on the gas and the vehicle zoomed towards his home. He woke her up as soon as he got out of the car, and carried her towards the front door.



She regained consciousness, and tried to break free from his grasp—thus the tripping through the front door.

"Listen, Harry," she said and turned to lean on the counter in front of him. "All this—is great, really. But I don't really want to fall that deep."

"Yet." He added for her. She smiled at him.

"Yet." She agreed, "So—let's just be casual okay?"

"Casual. Okay." He told her, slightly disappointed.

"A couple." She said after moments of silence. He turned to look at her with a sly smile. "Excuse me?"

"A couple." She repeated for him, the corners of her lips tugged upward into a smile as her face colored. "Two words, right?"

He leaned towards her, his arm snaking around her waist. He kissed her swiftly. It was a chaste kiss, their lips brushing in a sweet, delicate manner. She closed her eyes when she felt her grip against the counter loosen and her knees weaken, to savor the moment.

They parted, and she opened her eyes to stare at him, an embarrassed, yet girly smile appeared on her face.

"You know," he whispered, his hot breath tickling her. "It feels great to know that I can do that anytime I want."

She laughed, and turned around quickly, to hide her cheeks. She picked up the knife carefully, and started chopping the vegetables.

Remus, along with Tonks went down the stairs to see them. They smiled quietly as they watched them cook dinner together, occasionally sending each other meaningful glances, standing a little too close to each other, too. Also, when Hermione had accidentally cut herself, she clung on to Harry for dear life.

Something, to them, people in love would do.

Dinner was ready. Harry and Hermione were the only ones drinking red wine, and then Tonks and Remus insisted on going out for dinner, so that they wouldn't intrude. Hermione waved her glass in the air and slurred, "No, really, you can stay! Nothing's going to 'appen."

"Harry, you take care of her, alright? Fragile little girl, she is." Tonks said, laughing as she grabbed her coat and took Remus by the hand. It took them a while to be ready, but, unbeknownst to Harry, he had released a sigh of relief when they left.

Hermione now clung on to him, "My head hurts." She mumbled, Harry's gaze flickered to the now empty bottle of wine that she had consumed to her red face.

"Just wait a moment," He managed, clearing the plates and putting the spare food in a container and placing it inside the fridge.

"Take me home." She whined. Harry turned immediately, and smiled.

"Here, stand on this chair—steady, now." He said, hoisting her on top of the chair. She looked at him quizzically as he stood in front of her, his back to her, unsure of what was going to happen.

"Put your arms around my neck—yeah, that's right. Hold on tight, and then your legs around my waist…Okay. Hold on. Don't let go of me, okay?"

She giggled, and hung on to him tighter, her warm body pressing against his, "Why would I ever do that, Harry?"

He felt his stomach do flips as soon as his body had felt her warmth and heard her sweet words. She was, after all, intoxicated with alcohol, but that didn't matter. He would, someday, have to hope that she would say that to him sober. But now, it just felt good to hear it. "Where do you want to go?" He asked her, she was extremely light in his arms.

"Wherever you want to…" She whispered.

"How about I give you a proper tour of my home?" He told her.

She snorted, "I've seen the whole house already."

"Yeah, but you've never seen it with me."

Harry couldn't see, but he could tell that she smiled, through the way she excitedly tightened her grip around him.

"Alright then." She whispered, "Let's see what this house is all about."

Harry walked slowly, as he went outside, "I bought this house when I was eighteen, after living with Draco for a while. I used most of my savings, and half of my paycheck. Remus and Tonks moved in. This house was closer to the family doctor."

He slowly walked around, passing through closets and stairs and doors, it suddenly seemed bigger now. "You know, my mum was fond of the beach. This reminded me of her."

"She must have been a wonderful woman," She slurred, and it piqued Harry's attention that her grip around him was loosening.

"I miss my mum." She said, her words connected and hard to make-out, but he did anyway.

He smiled softly, and then headed towards the garden.

He spent the night bringing her to different places of his home, but then Hermione was too persistent, she asked him to go on longer when he insisted that she should go to bed.

"You've had too much wine." He commented. She smiled.

"No. I'm just too giggly because I kissed someone today." She whispered excitedly.

Harry quirked his eyebrows, and with a teasing tone, he said, "May I know who?"

"You may not!"

"Is he someone I know?" he asked.

"Someone you know quite well."

"Lucky guy. Pretty darn handsome too." Harry retorted. She hit him playfully, and wriggled out of his grip. She stood level to him, a girlish, yet beautiful smile on her face, her hands firmly on his shoulders, her cheeks a bright shade of crimson.

"You are handsome, Harry." She breathed, staring into the eyes of his handsome face, her knees started shaking.

He had never seen anyone so…perfect, so real, so beautiful in his life. Long, dark eyelashes, almond-shaped cinnamon colored eyes, rosy cheeks, porcelain skin, heart-shaped face, a cute, button nose, and red lips. Not only did this woman in front of him present such beauty, yet her wit and femininity surpassed others; her melodic voice was like music to his ears.

--

A/N: Sorry for the really short chapter and the long wait, I promise to make it up to you guys. ;) please review, they really helped me start this chapter with took forever to write, and the next chapter should be up sooner than this one, hopefully.