Hi everyone, below is chapter two of my story, A New Beginning. I would like to thank those of you for your positive feedback. I really appreciate it. I hope you will enjoy the next chapter as much as the first one.

Chapter 02

I pick at my food as I am not really hungry. I am angry with Ginny for seating herself between Harry and I. Everyone is silent and deep in thought around the dinner table. Most of us are picking at our food except for Ron, who eats like a horse. He is onto his second helping and I scowl. For as long as I have known him, he has always had a big appetite. Some gravy drips onto his red jersey and he doesn't even bother cleaning himself and if I was scowling a minute ago, I am definitely scowling deeper - if that is even possible - at the moment. He is seated on my right, whilst Ginny is on my left and every time she reaches across for something else, like the salt, she deliberately touches Harry's shoulder and it is grating my nervous. If Harry notices, he does not comment. In fact he has been unusually quiet and broody this evening. Occasionally I catch him watching me from the corner of my eye and he is doing that right now. I pretend not to notice him otherwise if I took look at him, I am going to blush beet-red and that is the last thing I want when we are supposed to be concentrating on the occasional small talk happening around the table. I give the table a cursory glance. Mr Weasley is talking softly to his wife. Percy has not looked up from his full plate of food. Bill and Fleur are huddled together and as for George, he appears lost without his twin. He has not cracked a single joke since Harry and I arrived at The Burrow after lunch.

Our arrival was frowned upon by every single Weasley family member except Mr Weasley who regarded us with fatherly concern. Harry and I spent the morning walking the streets of London in an effort to distract us from our thoughts. We held hands the entire time as if it was the most natural thing in the world for us. Now that the dust is slowly settling and I don't have much to think about apart from my definite attraction to Harry, Bellatrix's evil face keeps popping into my mind. I have not had the time to think about that night when she tattooed mudblood onto my wrist. She took great delight in torturing me until I was barely conscious. I never understood why she hated me so much. It's like she had it in for my mudblood status as if it was my fault I was born to non-magical parents.

At the moment, my head is spinning with images of her evil grin, wild-haired look and mocking laughter. I grip my fork in an effort to calm down, but it's too much. There is nothing to distract me from my darkening thoughts. I don't want to even think about the night ahead, when everyone is asleep and all is dark and quiet. I close my eyes in effort to control my threatening tears, but to my chagrin, a single tear rolls down my cheek and my eyes shoot open and I wildly look around for Harry. By this point, the table is dead quiet as everyone's eyes are fixated on me. I feel my cheeks burn in shame about my weakness and I don't know where to look except at Harry who is regarding me with utmost concern in his green eyes. I silently plead with him to help me. Without breaking eye contact with me, he pushes himself out of his chair and Ginny - I don't know what she sees on my face or Harry's face, but her expression is livid as she tries to block his approach.

"Let me pass, Ginny," he says softly and quietly, not quite hiding the irritation in his voice. He folds his arms and silently regards her. She lifts her chin defiantly and he just stands there patiently waiting for her to move.

"No…If you go to her, there will no longer be an us," she states.

He sighs and runs his fingers through his unruly hair. "She needs me, Ginny. Please do not make this anymore difficult than it is. Now let me pass." He presses his lips into a hard thin line as he folds his arms and stares her down. Not in an intimidating way unlike Ron, but in more of a warning or silent plea. She mutters something unintelligible under her breath as she finally steps aside. He stops in front of me and holds out his hand. Without hesitating, I grab it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. He immediately wraps his arm around my shoulders as he guides me away from the table. It is so quiet, you could hear a pin drop if someone dropped it, and I don't want to even think about the various reactions that will occur once we are out of earshot. For years everyone assumed that Ron and I would get together and that Harry and Ginny would get together. Now they will realise that they were wrong. Sadly I cannot take any joy from that. He leads me into the study, closes the door and seats me on the couch beneath the window over-looking the garden.

"Talk to me," he says softly as he drops next to me and I instinctively move into his space. He drops his arm around my shoulder and tucks me into his side.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I settle for picking lint off his green jersey that brings out his eyes, "It was nothing…Just a flashback," I whisper.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks softly.

"Not really. I just want to be anywhere else but here, Harry."

"I know the feeling," he says softly as his hand finds its way beneath my blue jersey. As he nudges the sleeve of the shirt beneath it, his fingers graze the bare flesh of my shoulder sending a delicious tingle throughout my body and I gasp, only to clap my hand in front of my mouth. He reaches for my hand, brings it to his lips and trails blazing kisses along my knuckles. I sit absolutely still so that I can get used to the sensation of his lips on my skin. As I watch, he flips over my hand until my palm faces upwards, and he plants a soft moist kiss on the centre and that elicits an unexpected sigh from me. He then lifts my chin, so that I am turned towards him. His expression is dark and his eyes are hooded as he trails kisses from my palm, to the scar on my wrist. His touch is so soothing and exciting all at once and very new. I don't really understand my reaction to him, yet by his ragged breathing, I realise he feels it just as much as I do.

"Hermione," he whispers as he cups my chin and leans towards me. My eyes dart from his eyes to his lips. His heart beats rapidly beneath my hand and my heart rate increases until it beats in harmony to his. He pauses a mere inch from my lips.

"Harry? Hermione?"

We pull apart and quickly provide distance between us and just in time because Mrs Weasley walks in with a tray of two steaming cups of tea, scones and biscuits she prepared today. She regards us for a moment, no doubt taking in our dishevelled appearance. I certainly feel flustered and way too hot for a mild spring day. Out of habit, I run my fingers through my hair and then I do blush because it is in a state. I am definitely going to cut it as soon as I get the chance.

"I thought…considering that you both didn't eat your supper, you might want something light to fill those bellies of yours. You must be hungry," she says softly as she sets the tray aside on the coffee table.

"Not really, but thank you, Mrs Weasley. This is very thoughtful of you," I murmur, offering her a grateful smile. She's like my second Mum… My thoughts drift away to a time long ago when my parents and me were still a family. Swallowing hard, I force the growing lump down my throat so that it does not overwhelm me in its intensity.

"Well, try to eat something. It won't do to have both of you becoming skinnier than you already are. Just try."

"We will," says Harry as he gets to his feet and starts pacing in front of us. "I want to apologise for what happened out there, Mrs Weasley. I know you went to a lot of effort to prepare the meal for us and I apologise if we have ruined it."

"Apologise, for what, dear boy?"

He pauses to regard her for a moment and then a slow smile graces his face, "I don't know, exactly…It's just that I felt…a vibe. I know everyone assumes-"

"That you and Ginny are together? It's glaringly obvious that your heart belongs to someone else and I am not going to hold that against you…or you, Hermione. I did notice…I don't know… A vibe, if that is the word you want to use, between you the two of you."

My jaw drops and I grab my cup of tea, "How long have you-" I start when she holds up hand and smiles softly at me.

"Does it matter? You are part of the family and I don't want the two of you to feel uncomfortable. This is your home…It can be your home, if you want it to be. All I ask is that you don't keep this away from Ron and Ginny for longer than you feel is absolutely necessary."

I look away, lost in thought about what she has just said. I hate to admit, but she is right. It would not be fair to either of them if we don't come clean with them and the thought really makes me uncomfortable. I have a sip of my tea to give myself a chance to think. What is the point of hiding our true feelings when they are no doubt showing on our faces and our body language when we are in the same room? How much does she see? If she has already surmised that there is something between us, then surely everyone else knows or at least suspects?

"Mrs Weasley," intervenes Harry as he grabs his cup of tea. "Have you considered my request with regards to sleeping arrangements?"

I flash him a small smile, thanking him for steering the conversation away from…us. Us? I like the way it sounds.

"Yes, I have. The attic has been cleared of that disgusting slime. It's your space for as long as you need. I understand why you want a spot to go to when you need to think, but as you are technically under my care, you will-"

"Mrs Weasley, please," laughs Harry to cover his embarrassment and I do a poor job of keeping my expression neutral. I lower my eyes to the swirling liquid of my tea and I try to distract myself from the way my thoughts are going. Sharing a bed with him has not entered my head until now and the thought does nothing to ease my tension. We have not so much as kissed…yet.

"Okay…I won't press the matter. I don't need to tell you what to do, not after you saved us from The Dark Lord." She shudders as if the title leaves a bad taste in her mouth. It has certainly left a bad taste in my mouth. She continues, "I apologise, Harry. I really do, but if either of you ever feel the need to talk, then let me know."

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," he says softly, yet the strain in his voice draws my attention. His expression is also strained and he automatically moves his hand to the nape of his neck and massages it.

"Where am I going to sleep?" I ask to move the focus to me. She lowers her eyes and sighs. This cannot be good and it does nothing to ease my nerves.

"With Ginny…Unfortunately," she replies firmly, leaving no room for argument and I stifle my sigh. I am going to share the room with Ginny. That is going to be so much fun. My own sarcasm is not lost on me. I tuck my legs beneath me and rest my head on the comfortable couch. I hold my cup securely as I attempt to empty my mind of all its thoughts. I don't open my eyes when the door clicks open and then closes. I don't open them when he sits next to me and I try not opening them when he seeks out my hand, but it is difficult, so I give up. I open my eyes and offer him a smile which feels weak, even to me.

"If you need me, call me," he says softly as he plucks my cup from my hand. I protest, but not for long because he grabs a pillow, puts it onto his lap. "But for now," he says as he tugs me towards him.

"Harry," I breathe.

"Just shut it, Hermione," he whispers and without another word passing my lips, I do what he wants and I lie down. He smooths my fringe back and starts stroking my hair and I decide to take the opportunity to mention my plan for a makeover.

"Harry, would you…still care for me if I cut my hair?"

His brow creases into a disbelieving frown and he solemnly shakes his head. "No. Do you want to cut it short?"

"Well, I was thinking along those lines. I guess I want to do something normal,"

"Like have your hair cut," he laughs, "Or," he breathes, "Is there something you would like to tell me?"

"Yes…I want to cut it short," I reply, deliberately ignoring the innuendo in his words. If he thinks I am going to confess my attraction to him… My attraction. A warm flush starts spreading throughout my body, warming me from the inside out.

He says nothing to me as he takes in my flushed cheeks. His eyes don't leave mine and that just makes me very flustered, so much so, I push up my sleeves to cool down. This, I realise as soon as his eyes darken, was a mistake, because he shifts beneath me and his expression is almost pained as if he is very uncomfortable. Oh my God. I bolt upright, sending the pillow flying and I move as far away as I can from him. In front of me, he blushes beet-red and I know why as soon as I notice the bulge beneath his jeans. Oh my God. He wants me and the thought draws a soft whimper from my lips without meaning to as the extent of his attraction sinks in. I should look away, but I am fascinated by what I see. He shifts again and sighs softly as if he can't quite fathom or perhaps he is exasperated with his body's betrayal.

"Hermione," he breathes as he carefully scoots next to me. I press further back into the couch, providing distance between us, but the heat radiating off him is too much. If he reaches for my hand I am going to lose it. "Please, let me kiss you," he whispers.

"Harry…I…I," I cast around for something, anything to say and I come up empty-handed. In spite of my hesitation, he reaches for my hand anyway and just as I predicted, I lose it. I launch myself at him. His arms shoot around me at the same our lips mesh together. I moan softly as he tentatively parts my lips with his moist tongue. As he darts into the warm recesses of my mouth, we elicit collective sighs and I sink my fingers into his mop of unruly hair. Without breaking our kiss, he gently lays me back on the couch and he carefully lowers himself onto me. I smile as our kiss deepens as his warmth surrounds me. I have dreamt of this for a long time and I never ever thought my first kiss with Harry would feel quite like this. His mouth is gentle and tender on mine and I love the way his lips mold with mine. I love the way he feels on top of me. If it feels this good, what is going to feel like when we eventually make love for the first time? What is it going to feel like to feel his naked skin against the bare flesh of my stomach, chest and breasts? My breast are already standing at attention and I want his hands on them, however he abruptly pulls away.

"I'm sorry…I did not," he says as he stares helplessly at me before looking at himself. "Shit, Hermione."

I jump to my feet and grab his hands. "It's okay, Harry. Just relax. You do the same to me. Just look at me," I whisper as I grab his hand and place it over my breast so that he can feel the extent of what he does to me. "You make me think things I have never thought about before. I want you more than I care to admit," I whisper as he steps closer to me and I laugh when I notice his skew glasses. I release his hand to straighten them and push them back onto his nose. He is a head and shoulders taller than me and it's a comfortable height. I don't have to strain myself to reach him. As I move my hands from his glasses, I allow my fingers to graze his jawline before dropping my hands to his shoulders. "That's better," I murmur. He drops his hands to my hips and pulls me towards him.

"I will try to keep better control of my…emotions," he says softly as he presses his lips to my forehead. I love you is on the tip of my tongue, but I hesitate. I don't want to be too forward. Our kiss was more than enough to handle and I don't want to complicate an already-complicated situation, especially when we risk losing our closest friends and I don't know his thoughts about that. I don't even want to consider his thoughts about that.

"I know what you are thinking, Hermione," he murmurs and startled, I look up, a bit taken aback by his comment, but at the same time, it pleases me.

"What are we going to do?"

"Nothing…for the moment. We will broach the subject once everything has settled down. For now, I don't want you to worry about it. We will know when the time is right," he says softly with utmost sincerity in his voice. "And now, I think we should rejoin them."

I step away from him and quickly straighten my clothes as I don't want to walk in looking as flustered as I feel. Smiling at him, I watch him straighten his clothes and then he runs his fingers through his hair trying to neaten it. Instead he makes it worse and I roll my eyes out of pure amusement.

"Your hair is hopeless," I chuckle.

"Yeah, it is," he smiles back as he grabs my hand. "And the best part is that you cut it."

I blush. I don't need a reminder of the way I cut his hair. "I didn't do a very good job, Harry. You know this."

"Yeah, I do and stop stalling, Hermione."

"Stalling? I am not stalling."

"Yes, you are. Now come along," he laughs as he pulls me towards the door, leaving me with little choice but to follow him.

With my heart hammering loudly in my ears and my stomach in knots, we walk back to the diningroom. To my surprise, the table is empty except for Mr Weasley reading The Daily Prophet. The front page is covered with moving photographs of the events of last night. It is difficult to believe that we were all fighting for our lives less than twenty-four hours ago. It feels unreal and overwhelming and I don't quite know what I should be feeling. It's difficult to be relieved or joyful about it now that the threat is gone, but what about those who died? Many of my fellow students died. Some as young as eleven years old. Innocent lives cut short. It does not seem fair somehow.

"Harry. Hermione."

"Mr Weasley."

I have to smile. Harry has always been very polite and respectful of his elders, yet he is not afraid to speak his mind when he has to.

I will never ever forget the time when Remus Lupin tried shirking his responsibility to Tonks during her pregnancy with Teddy. He wanted to travel with us and Harry was livid and for good reason. He told Remus exactly what he thought about his 'running' away from responsibility. Harry rarely loses his temper and that night was one of the rare occasions when he lost his temper. It did not end well. Remus refused to speak to Harry after that until two days ago when the entire Order of the Phoenix arrived at the school. They made amends and in retrospect, I am glad as both Remus and Tonks died.

"I believe they want to build a memorial at Hogwarts dedicated to those who died," says Mr Weasley as he folds and sets his paper aside. I glance at Harry to gauge his reaction, but his expression is unreadable. When his response is not forthcoming, Mr Weasley excuses himself. Without releasing my hand, he sits down and tugs my hand, drawing me onto his lap. I tuck my head beneath his chin and curl into him.

"I think that is a thoughtful gesture," I murmur wondering what on earth he is thinking about.

He tightens his arms around me. "It is. It's just that many names are going to go onto it. Most of them, kids. It just doesn't seem fair."

Kids? It's clear he does not regard himself as a kid even though he is seventeen, with his eighteenth birthday only a couple of months away.

"We've been forced to grow up far too quickly," he continues, "and I don't want any children we may have to experience that."

Sighing softly, I curl my hand around the nape of his neck and I play with the soft skin there. His comment has thrown my for a loop and I need to gather my thoughts. He speaks as if we are going to have children, yet we have yet to verbalise our feelings for each other. They are there, simmering beneath the surface with neither of us willing to go there just yet.

"Don't think so far ahead, Harry. We have to take each day as it comes."

He presses his hand against my cheek, "Hermione, I-"

Mrs Weasley comes in and says, "Harry. Hermione. We could do with some assistance in with the dishes."

"We'll be right there, Mrs Weasley," says Harry as he continues staring at me with those beautiful green eyes. A million emotions seem to flicker in them.

I get the sense he has more to say, but he doesn't have the words, so I break the silence, "I think we should assist them."

He nods and I gracefully remove myself from his lap. He gets up and as I walk past him, he catches my hand and once again interlocks our fingers. I smile inwardly about this. I could definitely get used to the way his hand fits over mine, providing me with the warmth and security I know we both need.