Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Forbidden Chalice

Harry and Mr. Weasley had spent the better part two hours polishing off that bottle of fire whiskey and talking. They spoke mostly about Ginny. It was a difficult subject for Harry at first, but the alcohol gradually made it one that was easier for him to discuss. Harry eventually told Mr. Weasley about the moment he became interested in Ginny, how he held himself back from pursuing her because of Ron, their first kiss, when they broke up, and how he had hoped to return to her when it was all over. Thankfully, Mr. Weasley did not seem interested in the more intimate details of Harry's relationship with his daughter. Harry would have had no idea how to answer any of those questions.

Mr. Weasley, however, was not the only one to learn something new about Ginny. Harry gained some new insight into the woman he loved. As it turned out, except for Ron, only Mr. Weasley had known about Harry's romance with Ginny. His job at the Ministry and his involvement with the Order of the Phoenix had put him in the unavoidable position to hear of some of the rumors that Harry and Ginny had become involved with one another. The last time he had seen Dumbledore, the headmaster confirmed the rumors, telling Arthur Weasley that the pairing was inevitable but would also be short-lived. "He said that a time would come when you would break it off with Ginny. You wouldn't want to do this, but you would know that being in a relationship with my daughter would put her at great risk. Protecting Ginny would be the most important thing to you." Harry looked over at Mr. Weasley. Tears were welling up in his eyes, but he continued on. "Harry, we…my family and I…we think of you as though you were one of our own, particularly Molly. Dumbledore knew this. He said that you would need our continued love and support for what you had left to do. If the family had believed that you had broken Ginny's heart, it would have made it more difficult for them to give you their support. So, Dumbledore asked me to tell everyone that nothing was going on between you two."

Harry found himself, once again, amazed at how Dumbledore always seemed to know what was going to happen before it did. He felt grateful that Dumbledore had the forethought to protect him one more time, and grateful to Mr. Weasley for telling his family the lie that kept that protection in place. "I really don't know what to say Mr. Weasley, but thank you. I know you didn't like lying to your family."

"Don't mention it Harry. Dumbledore said it was important, and that was all that mattered." Mr. Weasley wiped his eyes clean and then took a long sip from his glass. "You know, Dumbledore also told me that he once considered discouraging your relationship with Ginny; that it might distract you, but he thought better of it in the end. Your happiness was more important."

When the bottle was finished, they both agreed that the family was not ready to hear the truth about Harry and Ginny. The family needed more distance before they would be ready for the truth. Harry would tell them all in good time, when they were ready.

They also both agreed not to mention what had happened between Ron and Hermione. They decided that if and when that knowledge was to be shared, that is should be Hermione's choice to do so.

Harry started the following day with a blinding headache and an upset stomach. It was his first hangover, and after throwing several rather nasty and rude mental comments about the liquid he had imbibed the night before, he silently vowed that it would be his last. A dose of some kind of anti-hangover potion and a hot bath made all of his physical discomfort disappear, and as he sat in the bathroom, letting the warm water drain away the last of his headache, Harry could not help but feel as though more of that weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had not even minded the ribbing he had received from Fred and George who seemed to be taking some pleasure at his hangover. Harry noted that their jokes were relatively more mild than what should have been expected, but nonetheless, he was glad to know that they had not entirely lost their sense of humor.

Sadly, any good feelings that Harry developed from the previous night slowly drained away as the day wore on. An expectedly somber mood began to set on the Weasley household. Mrs. Weasley seemed intent on keeping herself busy in the kitchen for the entire day. She did nothing else but cook different pies and cakes that, unfortunately, no one really seemed to have much of an appetite to eat. The twins, despite their earlier jokes about Harry's hangover, relegated their humor to the back burner. Even Fleur's normally radiant beauty seemed diminished making her out to be nothing more than your above average attractive woman. Every now and then, someone would drop by to offer their condolences to the Weasley's on their loss. They were trying to be helpful and comforting, but all these visitors really did was to remind everyone else that Ron and Ginny were dead which, in turn, made everyone feel a little more depressed. About the only relatively decent thing that happened that day was that Harry received a note from Kingsley Shacklebolt, telling him that his aunt, uncle, and cousin had been safely returned to their house at Number Four, Privet Drive. Things were only going get worse over the next few days.

Harry had made a promise to himself to attend as many of the funerals of those who died defending Hogwarts as he possibly could, and it was a promise that he intended to keep. Those funerals started the following day. There were so many that it would be impossible for him to attend them all. Except for those Harry felt he had to attend, he chose which funerals he would go to by random lot. Many of these funerals were for people that Harry had not known very well. Yet, at almost all of them, their relatives told him that they felt honored that he chosen to pay his respects. He, in turn, told each of them that he was the one that it was the least that he could do for what they had done to help him defeat Voldemort.

While they were all important funerals, there were four that mattered more to Harry than the others. The funeral for Remus and Tonks was the first these funerals. They were buried on top of a small hill underneath a small tree. Dora was buried next to the grave of her father, Ted, and on the other side, Remus was laid to rest, all done so that the family could be together. This occasion also offered Harry his first chance to meet his godson, Teddy, something that on any other day would have been a happy occurrence. He promised Andromeda Tonks that he would remain a part of Teddy's life, and if they needed anything, he would do whatever he could to help.

That same afternoon, Harry attended the funeral for Severus Snape. Unlike many of the others, Snape's was attended by only Harry, Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and a few of the Hogwarts staff. When it seemed that no one was willing to speak on behalf of Snape, Harry stood up and told the whole truth about his old potions professor and what he had done to help defeat Lord Voldemort. It was only right that Snape's story about what he had done to help defeat Voldemort could get out into the open for everyone to hear and pass on.

The next day, Harry found himself sitting in a muggle church for Colin Creevy's funeral. The crowd in attendance sang hymns, prayed, and listened to a rather long sermon before adjourning to the church's graveyard for a few final words and prayers. After the funeral was over, Harry was hit with a hard truth. The nearly universal outpouring of gratitude directed at him in the wizarding world, it seemed, did not translate as well into the muggle world. Colin's father refused to speak to Harry when he tried to pay his respects. Dennis Creevy explained that his father did not understand and was angry, not just at Harry but at the entire magical world for what his sons had been forced to endure for the previous year. Harry could not help but feel that at some level, part of that anger was directed at him.

By far, however, the most important funeral to Harry was the final one he would attend for a very long time. It was the funeral that saw Ron and Ginny buried next to each other in the church graveyard at Ottery St. Catchpole.

Under any other circumstances, most people would have considered that day to be perfect. It was sunny and warm with a light breeze keeping the temperature comfortable. Harry, however, felt that the day was anything but perfect. As people began gather, Harry and Hermione took one last look at Ron and Ginny. Ginny looked beautiful, peaceful, as though she were sleeping. Harry kept hoping that this was all some bad dream, and Ginny would just open her eyes and get up. She was wearing the same dress that she had worn on his birthday the previous year, the last time they had kissed, a fact that made his heart sink.

Ron, like his sister, looked as though he was just asleep. The evidence of the wounds that ended his life were gone, and he lay wearing the dress robes Fred and George had purchased for him, along with a long scarf in the colors of the Chudley Cannons, his favorite quidditch team.

The funeral began a few minutes later, presided over by the same old wizard who had spoken at Dumbledore's funeral and conducted Bill and Fleur's wedding. When he finished speaking, Harry stood up and took his place at the podium. He had agreed to say a few words about Ron. Harry had some difficulty trying to figure out what to say about his best friend. In the end, decided to mention how good of a friend Ron had been, how he had been like a brother to Harry, and to recount some of the more humorous anecdotes he and Ron had experienced together. Harry struggled to get through it, coming close to breaking down on several occasions. It was hard to talk like this about Ron when only just a few days before he was alive and well.

As hard as it was to talk about Ron, Harry was thankful he did not have to say anything about Ginny. He there were so many things that he would never have been able to choose what to say about her. Harry also came to an uneasy realization about how little he had actually known about Ginny. He wished he had taken more time just talking to her.

Instead, the duty of saying a few words about Ginny fell to Fred and George, whose words about her were the perfect mix of charm, sentimentality, and humor. They made fun of how she used to act when Harry was anywhere nearby, and how she had grown into a mature and beautiful young woman whose bat-bogey hex even they were frightened of. For the entire length of their speech, Hermione kept a tight grip on Harry's hand, supporting him the only way a friend could.

The next day, Harry packed his bags and left the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley offered the expected protests, nearly begging him to stay, but Mr. Weasley stepped in, calmed her down, and explained to her that this was something Harry had to do for himself. Harry did not really want to leave, of course. This place was the closest thing to a home that he had ever had, but what he needed some time and space to think about things and deal with his own pain. The Burrow simply held too many memories for him to be able to do that. Except for the first day, when he was too exhausted to care, Harry could stand to spend only a few minutes at a time in Ron's bedroom, choosing to spend his nights on the sleeping on the couch, while Hermione, who was still not ready to sleep on her own, preferred to curl up in Mr. Weasley's chair. He had not even been able to go near Ginny's bedroom without remembering what had happened the only time he had ever been in there.

As much as he wanted some time away so that he could clear his head and put things into perspective, Harry did not want to, and would not, be alone. Hermione asked if she could come with him. Over the previous few days, she had been at his side for every funeral, supporting him, and offering him kind words when Collin Creevey's father refused to speak to him. Through all of this, Hermione had remained remarkably strong; refusing to shed a single tear since those first few hours after the Battle, but even a cursory glance at her face told Harry how badly she was hurting. Her strength had been a bolster to him, and he owed it to her to be there for her when she would need him. The only answer he could give her was "Yes."

Carrying a large picnic basket stuffed full with Mrs. Weasley cooking and the few possessions they had, Harry and Hermione left the Burrow early in the afternoon. They went to the only place where they could find some measure of privacy from the rest of the world: Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Once getting past the defenses Moody had put in place, they discovered that the house was in shambles, ransacked by the Death Eaters that had searched it so many months before. They spent the better part of the afternoon and evening cleaning and straightening it up. Harry found that this work actually kept his mind occupied with something else. While they worked, Hermione suggested maybe they should think about redecorating, making the house a little bit homier. Harry thought that it was good idea, partly because the house really could use a touch up, and partly because he wanted to stay busy with something. He had a feeling that Hermione also wanted something to do.

When all the cleaning was done, they had a nice quiet dinner of Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking. As they ate, Hermione began suggesting different things they could do to each room. Harry listened to her ideas, but he was more interested in the change in her demeanor. With something else to occupy her mind, Hermione looked, at least, somewhat happier. The more she talked, the more ideas she had. Soon, she had out a parchment and quill, and was writing down all of their ideas, just like she was the old Hermione.

By the time they finished talking about the decorating plans, it was rather late. After clearing the table and cleaning the dishes, both of them decided that it was time to turn in. Initially, Hermione decided to take the same bedroom that she and Ginny had shared the summer before their fifth year of school. Normally, Harry would have taken Sirius's old bedroom. Tonight however, he chose to take the room that he and Ron had shared that same summer. This room had two beds, in case Hermione wasn't ready to be on her own.

After bidding Hermione a "good night", Harry closed the bedroom door and began changing into his bed clothes. He made his way to the bed he had used during their stay here three years ago, refusing to even acknowledge the bed Ron had slept in. As he pulled down the covers, a soft, but not unexpected knock, came at the door. He made his way back to the door and opened it. "I'm sorry Harry. You don't mind, do you?" she asked, tentatively.

"Of course not," Harry replied, with a gentle smile. "Come in." Hermione walked into the bedroom, and he closed the door. When he turned back around, she was staring on Ron's empty bed. "What is it?"

"You know the last time we were here, he was with us," Hermione answered with a distant tone. Hermione turned to him, tears streaking down her face. She reached out for Harry, wrapping her arms tightly around him, and resting the side of her head against his chest. Harry returned the embrace, wishing that there was something more that he could do for her, but considering that he felt the same way, it was hard to think of anything.

"God I miss him, Harry."

"I know. So do I."

"Harry, tell me it's going to get better," Hermione said after several seconds.

Harry stroked her hair gently, and softly said, "One day, it will. Everything will get better." Harry knew that it would, of course, although as badly as he now felt, he could not foresee when or how it would be.

Hermione lifted her head and looked back up at him. "Do you promise?" she asked, her eyes pleading with him.

Harry looked down into her tear-filled brown eyes. "I promise," he said before leaning forward and kissing her forehead gently. He brought his gaze back to her eyes. They stared at each other for several seconds. Then, Harry leaned his head forward again, but this time, he put lips to hers. He didn't know what was making him do this or why, but Harry could not stop himself. For whatever inexplicable reason, he had to kiss Hermione, and what was more, Hermione was kissing him back.

Things happened quickly, far too quickly for Harry to slow down and think about what he was doing. Whatever control he might have had over himself was now gone, and in its place was some kind of primal urge. Yet, Hermione, normally one of the most rational people Harry knew, did not seem to be in control of her own self either. Before he knew it, their clothes strewn about the bedroom, and they were lying on the bed, their bodies joined together, flesh pressed firmly against flesh, and lost in the heat of the moment. Harry was not concerned by the fact that of all the women in the world, Hermione Granger was not someone he was supposed to be doing this with. In fact, Harry did not care about anything else other than this moment. To him there was no past or future, only the present, and the present felt wonderful.

So, what did you think? Like it? Hate it? Indifferent? Let me know.