A/N: Thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me and coming back to visit with our hero and heroine. After much angst, this chapter is finally ready for you. Please forgive the long summer break. I can only say that my muse has departed never to be seen again, seemingly miffed that I named the new cat after her.
Beta Love: glitterally, who is really quite amazing and without whom this chapter would still be a half-finished mess on my computer. Thank you, my friend. As always, mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: HP & the HPverse are the property of JKR and her assigns. I make no profit from the writing and posting of this story.
Wednesday
Potter Hall, Wiltshire
"You'd love her, Dad. Hermione's amazing. Remus called her the "brightest witch of our age." And he was right - I'd have never survived without her."
"She sounds like your mother." James' portrait glanced at the red-haired witch at his side.
"She's amazing, too. And we always knew she was the one for you."
Lily lightly punched her husband's arm. "No we didn't. We just knew they were bound to be good friends. You and Sirius were the ones who wanted that antiquated contract."
"He released us from it, you know."
"What? Why?"
"You can't be serious. Of course he did. It's almost the twenty-first century."
"But you just said you want to marry her."
"Of course I do, Dad. But that's not the point. We shouldn't be forced into by a contract or a crazy law."
"Harry's exactly right." Lily stopped. "What was that - a law? What do you mean, a law?"
"Oh, it's a rumor. We lost too many people in the war, and the Wizengamot may try to pass a marriage law to force people to get married and have kids." Harry ran his hand through his already messy hair. "I'm pretty sure it's not going to happen."
The tightened shoulders in his parents' portraits eased. "That's a relief. They haven't done anything like that in almost a thousand years, but that curse is still on the books."
Harry's brow wrinkled in minor confusion. "Curse?"
But James had moved on. "Let me show you something." He led off, moving from frame to frame, Lily keeping pace. He stopped on the first floor across from the master bedroom. "Go in there and open the wardrobe. Press your hand," he held out his hand palm out and flat, "in the top right corner. Everything you need is there."
Curiosity piqued, Harry opened the door, expecting his father and mother to jump a frame into that room. When they didn't, he stuck his head back into the hallway, "Are you two coming?"
"No; the only portraits allowed in that room are current owners of the Hall. Privacy and all that."
A flush crept up Harry's neck. "Oh, right then. I'll, emm, I'll be right back." He went to the mahogany wardrobe and opened the largest door. It was empty but for a few wooden hangers hung haphazardly along the rail. He pressed his right palm against the back panel, and for a moment nothing happened. Then, the panel split in two, moving to either side like louvered doors. It reminded Harry, in an odd way, of when Hagrid showed him the entrance to Diagon Alley as an eleven year old and bricks receded to reveal the magical world. And what he saw when the doors folded in on themselves was almost as inspiring. Gold, silver, diamonds, rubies, and pearls shone from their cases. His eyes flew over the assorted jewelry. A diamond and pearl bracelet. A small ruby and diamond tiara. A strand of pearls winked at him from the bottom shelf. They were large and irregularly shaped, different from anything he'd ever seen before. But just as he picked them up, a small, elongated velvet-covered box caught his attention.
He set them to the side and pulled the box to him. Almost reverentially, he opened it to find a compass nestled into the box. It was gold, circular with a white face, and sat in a square, open bezel on a long gold chain. Something about its grace and simplicity reminded him of Hermione. It brimmed with hidden magical properties, but it wasn't flashy; it was beautiful, it was important, like the witch he loved. He closed the box and tucked it in his pocket and looked around for a closure. There wasn't an obvious one, but near the edge of the middle shelf was an antique-looking ring with a large red stone - a ruby, he thought - surrounded by diamonds. Taking it with him, he closed the main door to the wardrobe. Just to check, he re-opened the door. The smooth wooden back of the wardrobe was once again in place.
Necklace and ring in hand, he left the room and met his father and mother across the hall. "Dad, Mum, do you know anything about these?"
Christmas Morning
Eighths Tower
Harry stood midway across the common room, contemplating Hermione's door, the golden lion on the plaque standing guard while the silver serpent hissed in warning. He knew from experience the door would open for him if he really concentrated, and he was on pins and needles wanting to give her her Christmas gifts. Daphne had headed home for the holiday, so he knew she was alone, but he didn't want to give her this gift at Hogwarts, and he certainly didn't want to give it to her when they were exchanging gifts with Kate and Sirius at Grimmauld Place.
The school tower clock chimed the eight o'clock hour.
"Bloody hell, when is she going to wake up?" he thought impatiently.
Hermione's door opened as if in response. Hair sleep tousled and eyes cloudy, she smiled at him when she saw him standing impatiently in the middle of the room. "Silly, what are you doing in here? You could have woken me."
"I know, but I wanted to you to sleep in."
She waved him off, a yawn splitting her face. "I'm fine. I'll be ready to head down to breakfast in a trice."
He glanced down at the gaily wrapped package with the perfect bow - magic was a wonderful thing. If he'd had to do that without the help of magic, it'd have looked like something a young Dudley would have cobbled together - the comic section of the newspaper held together with the blue tape Aunt Petunia used to protect the trim in the house when she was changing the paint color in the lounge from "latte" to "mocha." Or was it "mocha" to "latte?" It didn't really matter - they looked exactly the same to Harry either way.
Hermione whisked off to the bath and he settled into his favorite chair, snagging the latest edition of "Quidditch Today" to read as he waited for her. He flipped through the pages impatiently, pausing on the ad for the newest Firebolt as he waited the short half-hour it took for her to get ready. As he was mulling over an article comparing the latest models of brooms - it seemed the newest Nimbus wasn't as fast off on the take-off as the Firebolt, but made up for it in distance speed, and the Cleansweep was still solidly in third place - he saw some familiar names. Ron was quoted in the article as being a fan of the Cleansweep in his position as Reserve Keeper on the English team. Harry's mouth kicked up at the corner when he saw he was listed as having a Firebolt under the "Famous Fliers" column. He snickered when he saw Draco's name beside the Nimbus.
"What are you laughing about?" Hermione wriggled down beside him in the chair.
"Nothing. Well, it's nothing important. Just saw some familiar names in an article about brooms." He glanced over at the small gift sitting on the broad arm of his chair. "After breakfast, would you mind - can we go somewhere else? I want to give you your gift before we go to Grimmauld Place this evening for Christmas dinner."
A look of confusion flashed across her face. "Sure, where to?"
"Do you trust me?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be daft."
Taking that as an affirmative, Harry grinned, scooped up the two gifts and tucked them away. "Great - let's get something to eat, and then I'll apparate us there."
An hour later, Harry pushed open the gate to his home, held out his hand to Hermione, and pulled her through the wards.
"This is your family home?" She looked around, taking in the the worn but welcoming facade.
"It is." He walked backward, holding her hands in his as she took in the overgrown copse of trees and the details of the house. "Do you like it?"
"It's beautiful, Harry. It's so welcoming."
"I thought so, too. But I need to get Bill over here to help me with the wards; I want you to be able to come and go." He stopped when his left foot hit the bottom stair and turned around to offer her his arm and walk her up to the door, which opened into the spacious entry hall. He waved his arm. "This is it. And there's a library." A grin lit up his face when he saw her spin around.
"Show me," she demanded.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry was still grinning as Hermione pulled out the oldest book she could find. Twenty minutes later, he made himself comfortable in the reading chair as she stood, engrossed, by the bookshelf, slowly turning the pages. Thirty minutes later, he glanced at the gift on the arm of his chair and contemplated the wand in his hand. He pointed it in her direction, slightly above her head and whispered an incantation. A sprig of mistletoe obediently popped into existence above her head, suspended from thin air. He got up and stood just behind her.
"Hermione," he whispered in her ear.
"Just one second." She held up a finger, motioning for time.
"You seem to be standing under a sprig of mistletoe."
Her brow creased momentarily, then she glanced up and smirked at the unimposing bit of greenery, tied with a Gryffindor-red ribbon at the base. She turned around, book still in hand. "Now, how did that get there, Mr. Potter?"
He shrugged innocently. "No idea. But I thought maybe we should uphold tradition and -"
"You're right. We should! Let's decorate!"
"Wait - what?"
But Hermione was off and running. She put the book back where it belonged, pulled out her wand, and conjured a Christmas tree for the corner. A bow made from the same ribbon as the one on the mistletoe adorned the top of the tree. A rope of popcorn and cranberries wound around the branches, and ornaments appeared. She then set about decorating other spaces around the room with bows and traditional Christmas decorations. There was even a Muggle Father Christmas tucked between two stacks of books on the far bookshelf. The sprig of mistletoe valiantly followed her around the room as she made it the kind of room Harry had always dreamed of seeing on Christmas morning.
She glanced around, assessing her work. "There. That's just about - " she sent a stream of magic towards the inanimate Father Christmas, who began to wave from his perch above them - "perfect." She grinned at Harry. "Do you like it?"
He looked around the room, mouth slightly agape before closing it with a snap. "You're right; It's perfect. Now, can I kiss my girlfriend?" He leaned forward pressed his lips gently and oh-so-briefly on hers. "And let's go sit by the tree - I want to give you your gift."
He grabbed the gaily wrapped package off the arm of the chair and towed her behind him to sit in front of the tree in the corner. She took it and carefully inspected it, savoring the experience of opening this gift. It was a small, oblong package, one that looked like it might have a bracelet or a necklace in it. She carefully untied the bow and set it to the side, tried to avoid tearing the paper, and slowly pulled out an old hinged box covered in worn black velvet. When she opened it, there was a beautiful simple compass on a long chain; she could feel the magic surrounding it. She glanced up at Harry who was practically vibrating with excitement. "It's gorgeous." She pulled it out, and started to put it on, but he forestalled her.
"If you put it on, only you can take it off. If I put it on, then both of us can."
She looked down at it again. "What does it do?"
He took it from her. "If you tap the top like this," he demonstrated a simple tap pattern, "and say domum, it will always point you towards home." The needle obediently spun and pointed directly across from him towards Hermione. He held it out towards her. "Now you try."
Rather than taking the necklace, she leaned towards him. "I want you to put it around my neck."
"Really?" She nodded, and he slipped it over her head. "Thank you," he whispered, brushing a kiss on her cheek as he settled it around her neck.
She picked it up and inspected it from all angles. "I'm a little nervous, you know. I don't really have a home, do I?" She looked sad for a moment as she contemplated all she'd lost in the fight against Voldemort. She tapped the compass and whispered, "Domum."
The arrow spun just once and pointed directly to Harry.
"Don't you understand? You'll always have a home with me. And with this" - Harry pointed to the compass - "you can always find me."
She launched herself into his arms, and this time she kissed him. Just as their hands were beginning to wander a soft, "So sweet, James - they look so happy," interrupted them.
"I'm sure he'll introduce us soon, Lily. Now isn't the time."
"But, they're so perfect together! I want to stay."
"Muuummm…."
Christmas Evening
Grimmauld Place
Kate sat, hand on her burgeoning belly, and laughed as Sirius and Harry joked about. The wrapping paper was strewn about the lounge haphazardly. No one apparently knew the meaning of putting things in the rubbish, but she didn't mind the mess. It could be cleaned up easily enough. Hermione was glowing; she'd shown Kate the compass Harry had given her for Christmas that morning and told her of their plans to live in Harry's ancestral home after graduation in the spring. She and Sirius would have been glad to have them both here at the Place, but she supposed it would be better for them to have their own space. Besides, ancestral homes had a way of protecting their own. Kate couldn't help but wonder, had James and Lily had stayed at Potter Hall, if they'd still be alive. But Christmas evening was hardly the time to dwell on that. She caught the look that Hermione and Harry exchanged. It was one of those speaking glances that held an entire conversation, one of those looks that couples who were meant to be often shared. She turned her gaze to her husband, who was busy describing what appeared to be a flying maneuver, if the way his hands were moving was any indication. The swoops and circles had Harry cackling.
"No, no. Then James went left and -" Sirius was obviously discussing the glory days of the Marauders.
"Can I get you something?" Hermione asked, interrupting Kate's ruminations.
"What? No thank you," she smiled. "How are you doing?" She patted the broad arm of the chair. "Have a seat. Watch the show with me."
Hermione perched there beside her and watched Sirius and Harry talk Quidditch and flying, using their bodies to act out their greatest moments.
"They're cute, aren't they?"
"They really are."
"I hate to be too serious on Christmas evening, but how do you feel about the owl from Kingsley?" Kate asked.
Hermione shrugged. "It's fine. Trallop deserved a guilty verdict and some time in Azkaban.
Now that the Dementors are gone, maybe she can actually get help to see what she did was wrong."
Harry stood, placed one foot in front of the other, and reached up.
"What in the world?"
"He's showing Sirius his signature Seeker move. Standing on the broom to catch the Snitch."
"He stood on the broom? In flight?" Kate asked, incredulous.
"He did. Apparently, the International Quidditch Foundation is considering naming the move after him. The Potter Catch."
"Helga's knickers, that's dangerous."
"That's Harry - Gryffindor to the core."
Kate smirked. "I've got to ask this, and I hope you don't mind, but given how smart you are, why do you think the Hat put you in Gryffindor? Why not Ravenclaw?"
"You don't think I'm brave enough for Gryffindor?"
"Of course you are. But the Hat seems biased towards smarts going to Ravenclaw, other characteristics be damned."
"It told me I was too emotional for Ravenclaw."
"I can see that. But I think it was something else. I think the Hat knew who you were; I think the Hat put you in Gryffindor, which I think is where you belonged by the by, because it knew you were smart and incredibly brave, but it also knew you were Sirius's daughter, Harry Potter's best friend, and the love of his life. I think the two of you have been written in the stars."
Morning, Boxing Day
The Daily Prophet
Section B, Page 3
Public Notices:
#18 Straightaway Drive was sold for 25,000 galleons on 21 December to Gregory Goyle.
Orion Prewett's estate will be settled on 8 January. Anyone with claims against the estates should contact the Ministry for Magic, Probate Division no later than 5 January at the close of business.
Zoe Trallop has been sentenced to a minimum five years in Azkaban for extortion. She will undergo intensive therapy and will only be released when a team of Healers determines that she is no longer a threat to society.
Malfoy International purchased The Rectory at Prawle's Pointe for 150,000 galleons on 22 December.
A/N: So, I think the story is complete, but a New Year's Eve bash at the Longbottom Estate is in my head. If you'd like to read it - drop me a review! If lots of folks ask, I'll post it here, but just in case, I'll PM it to you when it's ready if only a few of you are interested.