Chapter 12

I stare at my papers and books scattered around me while I gently massage my temples in an attempt to ease my tension headache that is worsening with each passing minute and the unexpected heat wave we are experiencing is not making it any easier. The window is open next to the bed I share with Harry at The Burrow, yet there is no breeze blowing in to cool me down. There is a thin sheen of sweat on my forehead and for the first time since I had my hair styled short, I am grateful I don't have the bushy mane plastered against my neck when it was still long. The sweat is even dripping between my breasts and I decide to remove my tee-shirt. I pull it up and over my head and I toss it to the floor in mild relief. I reach for my glass of water and I have a long, leisurely sip and I grimace. The water is warm, but no matter, I will just cast a jinx to make it cold again. I mutter the incantation on my breath and in front of me, my glass refills and it is ice cold. Cold enough to pour it over my head, if I was not sitting so comfortably on my…I laugh, our bed. I still find it difficult to call the bed he has used since he was twelve, our bed.

It is going to feel strange moving into our apartment at the end of next week. After being around the Weasley's and all the drama that has taken place during the last seven weeks or so, both Harry and I are looking forward to finally having time to ourselves without the constant disapproving and jealous glares, Ron and Ginny still direct at us at every given opportunity…except for today. It seems they have called a truce with Harry as the three of them, including George are out playing Quidditch while I slug it out as the diligent student I am. That has not changed. I love the smell of the paper surrounding me more than I love the smell of parchment and anything remotely magical. The smell of muggle paper is far more appealing than the parchment we wrote on at Hogwarts.

Sighing softly, I glance out the window. I sometimes wish I was not afraid of flying so that I can join him. He has always enjoyed flying. I've had to fly in the past, but I was always accompanied except for the time when we found the last horcrux in the Room of Requirement where one of Draco Malory's friends was killed during the fire he caused. Draco Malfoy… I scowl thinking about the Malfoys, but at the same time, I smile as they alway thought they were superior to the rest of us, yet they fell the hardest because they were a disgrace to the wizarding world. A family of purebloods and once upon a time, highly respected by the Dark Lord himself, yet they were the first to leave Hogwarts when Harry rolled free of Hagrid's arms to face Voldemort in the final battle between good and evil.

My eyes mist over thinking about the events prior to that. I thought he died. When he told me what he had to do, my heart broke into a million pieces and I wanted to go with him to be with him, but he insisted he needed to go it alone. I remember thinking about the irony of the situation as there were many times when he wanted to go it alone and each time, either Ron or me would persuade him otherwise, except for that time when I realised he really had to go it alone. He still told me that 'Neither one can live while the other survived…' His words crushed me at the time. A lone tear runs down my cheek and I furiously wipe it away. I am glad he is not here to see me like this, not that he minds. If he were here with me, I'd be in his arms listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart while he murmurs soothing words to me, letting me know it is okay to cry. God knows, we have done a fair amount of crying during the last few weeks. He feels it the most because he thinks he is responsible for so many deaths, innocents or otherwise and that is why I am happy he is doing something he really enjoys.

And I still don't know what to get him for his birthday in a couple of days. He has more than enough of everything, but what would he appreciate the most? While I ponder what to get him, I grab the book on British Law and I start perusing it. There are so many fancy words and they all make perfect sense to me. I set it aside so that I can start jotting down important points. I want my essay to be perfect and insightful to sway the Dean and I have an interview next week with the Dean of Law Studies. I intend completing my essay as well as my motivational letter by then. As I write my notes, I can't help the excitement settling over me. This is something new and completely different to what I learnt at Hogwarts and it is very refreshing and stimulating. The more I write, the more excited I become and the more certain I become that I have made the right decision.

There is sharp tap on the window and startled out of my concentration, I look up and a smile spreads across my face. I set the book aside and I open the window wider. My heart rate increases as I take in his fine form. His jet black hair is tousled, his glasses askew and he is shirtless. The sweat runs in rivulets along his chest, making him glisten as if oil has been rubbed all over his body.

"Hey beautiful, please join us?" he asks sweetly as he hovers on his Firebolt by the window. I glance at the grass two floors down and I shudder.

"I think not, my love. You know I don't like to fly."

"Come on babe. Please?"

I roll my eyes. From love to babe. It never stops. He always call me one or the other depending on his mood and today he seems to be in a good mood.

"What do you want for your birthday?" I ask as I take a step back.

He shrugs and laughs, "I want to make love to my girlfriend all day on my birthday."

A warm flush spreads throughout me making my cheeks flame and I look away, "Harry, don't say that. You know the effect it has on me."

"Aw, babe….Don't go all coy on me and besides I was just teasing you," he smirks as he flies that much closer to the window. His eyes dart around as if he's looking for something and then he frowns, "An owl, Mione. I want an owl. I miss Hedwig," he says softly as he looks anywhere but at me.

"Harry," I murmur a I step right up to the window so that I can comfort him somehow. This is the first time he has mentioned Hedwig in over a year. She was killed by a death eater when we all rallied around him and drank Poly-juice Potion to ensure Harry safely reached The Burrow. It was disastrous. Someone betrayed us. Snape jinxed George causing him to lose his ear… and Alastor Moody died.

He looks at me from beneath his lashes and before I realise it, his arm shoots out, wrapping itself securely around my waist and I shriek his name as he effortlessly swings me onto his broom.

"Harry James Potter, I could kill you right about now," I mutter as I wrap my arms securely around his middle, "And I am in my bra, you toss-pot."

"I think you look mighty fine, Ms Granger," he laughs as he flies towards Ron and Ginny tossing a football between them while they hover at least ten metres above the ground, "And you won't kill me," he laughs as he accelerates.

"Hold on tight my beautiful girl," he says as he angles his broom upwards.

"Harry, please?" I whimper, but he ignores me. I close my eyes and concentrate on the warmth and stickiness of his body as I press my cheek against his back. I breathe in his sweaty scent and it sets my pulse racing.

"You've spent too much time burying your head in those books, my love. You need fresh air," he bellows as the air rushes past us, instantly cooling me down, but it is not enough to still my rapidly beating heart which has nothing to do with me flying. It has everything to do with Harry and our close proximity.

"I am a student…A soon-to-be-sophomore," I bellow back. He slows down to a near-standstill and he turns towards me. I smile at the absolute happiness in his eyes and on his face.

"And I am a soon-to-be-teacher, teaching students like myself all about defense against the dark arts."

I scowl. "Don't remind me, Harry. I am not happy about the arrangement. We will never see each other."

"Hey," he says softly, "Of course we will. So please don't worry about that, Mione."

"I am going to miss you so much," I whisper.

He smiles, "Not as much as I am going to miss my beautiful Mione." He turns away and accelerates again. The wind rushes past us as we head back to the waiting siblings who are still tossing the football between them

"Where's George?"

"He went back to the shop," he replies, "But I think it has more to do with seeing Angelina."

"So, are they like together, Harry?"

"Yeah, it seems like it. He didn't say much, so I left it at that… He misses Fred. It's like the life has been sucked out of him."

"How would you feel if it were your twin, Harry? Or me, instead?" I barely can say the words over the unexpected lump in my throat. Swallowing it down, I close my eyes and tighten my arms around him.

He senses my sadness, because he veers away from Ron and Ginny and he flies towards a clump of trees not far from The Burrow. He slowly descends until we touch ground. He waits for me to hop off his Firebolt before following me and I walk a few steps away just so that I can compose myself. I furiously wipe away my tears and I take a few deep breaths in an effort to bring my emotions back under control.

"Mione?" he ventures as he places his hands on my shoulders. He pulls me towards him and plants a soft kiss behind my ear.

"I'm…okay, I think. I'm sorry. It saddens me when I think about it, that is all. If you died, I would be devastated. It's just difficult to believe Fred is dead, Harry. I never thought any harm would come to the Weasley's, yet Fred died. Just like Remus and Tonks…and so many others."

"I know what you mean. I live with the guilt every day. Not a day goes by when I look at Mrs Weasley and see the pain in her eyes. It kills me."

"It was not your fault, Harry. We all had our reasons for fighting…Some were personal. Others fought to rid the world of evil, but even that still lurks in the corners. The threat has been erased, but evil lurks in every corner, waiting for the moment to strike."

"As reasonable as ever, aren't you, my love?" he chuckles as he turns me around to face him.

"No, just highly logical," I smirk and he laughs outright. It is not the first time I have told him that and he always finds it amusing.

He tilts his head to the side as he tucks a lose tendril of hair behind my ear. He eyes me from head to toe and he smiles appreciatively at me and just like that, the air between us becomes charged with electricity. I feel the heat radiating from his body. He closes the distance between us and with his finger, he pushes the strap of my lace bra off my shoulder. He does the same to the other side and then he brings me towards him and unhooks my bra, allowing it to drop to the carpet of grass beneath our barefeet. His breathing hitches as does mine as he turns me around so that his chest is pressed lightly against my back. He slips his arms around me as he starts trailing blazing kisses along my shoulders, to the soft skin at the nape of my neck. I close my eyes and relax into him so that I can enjoy the attention he is giving to me. With each kiss, my sadness slowly fades away until all I feel is the love I have for the young man holding me so gently in his arms.

"Mione," he murmurs softly as splays his hands along the flat of my stomach.

"Yes?"

"Are you still feeling out of sorts?" he asks softly as he gently strokes my stomach with his thumbs.

"No," I sigh, "It seems to have passed. I think I was overly-anxious, just like you said."

He smiles, "I knew it. I know you too well…"

"Do you really?" I smirk as I turn around in his arms. I slip my arms around his neck and lean towards him, eager for his kiss.

"Well, I know what you want from me right now," he replies and before I have a chance to respond, his mouth finds mine. I thread my fingers through his hair and I elicit a contented sigh. He smiles against my lips as if he knows exactly what is going through my mind at the moment and briefly we lose ourselves in the moment we have created for ourselves, until he abruptly pulls away.

"What?" I ask surprised as his eyes dart nervously around for the source of whatever has distracted him and with it, the warmth leaves the afternoon.

He quickly retrieves my bra, "Put it back on, Mione, and then we are going back to The Burrow," he says firmly as he shoves it into my hands. Confused and a little bewildered by his reaction, I do what he wants. He wouldn't be so annoyed for no reason and I don't understand why when he grabs his broom, straddles it and reaches for my hand. He guides me on behind me and without sparing another glance, he kicks off and we soar right above the trees. It is only then that I notice a bright red head running back to the make-shift Quidditch pitch. I am all too-aware of the tension in his back and shoulders. He is angry…angry enough to spit fire and ice if he had the necessary skills to that and for no apparent reason, I start shivering.

"It's okay," he reassures me.

"No, it isn't. That was Ron, wasn't it, Harry?"

"Yeah and I don't like the way he looks at you when we are in the same room…It pisses me off, Mione. I don't like it all and the sooner we move into our apartment, the better."

I tighten my arms around his chest and kiss the back of his neck, "I don't think he will hurt me. He is jealous…Jealous I chose you over him. You know he has a fiery temper, Harry. We've seen it…once when he ditched us."

"Don't make excuses, Mione. I know it makes you uncomfortable. You may not realise it, but you instinctively reach for my hand or slip your arms around my waist when he is in the same room with us."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I didn't realise-"

"Hey," he says as he carefully descends to the ground, "You don't have to apologise. It's not your fault. It just doesn't please me that he thinks he has the right to do that…" He grabs my hand and leads me to the Quidditch pitch to retrieve his shirt, "Here. I think you should put this on. We don't want Molly to have a fit seeing you just in your bra and shorts, Mione. Laughing, I do as he asks and when it is on, he reaches for my hand and leads me back to the house.

"Hey, did you enjoy your flight?" he asks as we walk into the kitchen. I quickly cast about for any signs of Ron, but he isn't around and I breathe a sigh of relief. At least we won't have to deal with him now.

Smiling at him, I nod, "Yes I did, but that was only because I was with you," I reply.

He grins as he squeezes my hand, "I knew you'd enjoy being away from your books and notes for a while."

The amusement in his voice is not lost on me and it makes me smile as I pull him towards him, "You know me too well. Any time spent with you, is worth it and I'd do it again…and again, if you asked it of me."

"Well," he whispers, "If that is the case, then I am going to insist on you showering with me."

"Oh Harry, you are too sweet… I will shower with you as long as it is a cool shower. I don't think I can handle any more heat at the moment," I tease as we make our way up the stairs. We both know our shower is going to be anything except cool.

"After being in the sun, a cool shower and some time with my girl is what I need and then you are free to bury your nose into your books for the rest of the day," he laughs as he closes the bathroom door behind us.

"What if I don't want to bury my nose in my books, Harry? What if I want to spend the rest of the day with you? Or, we can spend the day together, while I bury my nose in my books? A fair compromise, don't you agree?" I tease as I lightly smack his firm buttocks and he blushes beet-red and that just makes me laugh even more.

"Mione, don't tease me."

I step up to him and wrap my arms around his neck, "Look me in the eye, my love, and tell me you didn't enjoy that?"

He looks me directly in the eye and smiles, "Of course I enjoyed that," he says rather bashfully and I simply have to kiss him. He looks devilishly attractive and he is not going to get away with giving me what I want, so before he has a chance, I lock lips with him and he cups my buttocks, pulling me tightly to him. His hands don't leave their place while we engage in a battle of wills with our tongues fighting for dominance. As it deepens, he moves us into the shower and without breaking our kiss, he reaches behind me and turns on the tap. I skim my hands along his back all the way to the waistband of his board-shorts and I slide them beneath it, cupping his firm buttocks in my hands. He groans softly as he tangles his fingers in my hair.

"Mmm, at least I can do that," he says softly as he moves away from my mouth to nibble my earlobe, drawing a soft sigh of contentment from my lips which in turn, earns a rumble from deep within his chest.

"So, you want an owl?" I ask softly as he pulls back to look at me. I laugh. His glasses are half-sliding off his nose, "You don't need these," I murmur as I remove them and place them on the shelf next to the hooks bearing face-cloths.

"How am I supposed to see what I am doing without them?" he asks.

"Use your hands, Harry. You know my body better than anyone else. You could do this with your eyes closed," I barely whisper as he brushes his lips along my jawline at the same time he starts tugging off my jeans. Once they are off along with my underwear, I kick them aside and wait for him to remove his sopping wet jeans and boxers. Once he has removed them, he comes back to me.

"So, I must use my hands?" he asks, amused.

I lean towards him and nod, "Yes."

"Mmm," he says softly and his eyes lighten up mischievously, "Okay. Then I need you to do something for me."

I regard him thoughtfully for a short while trying to understand what he wants when he places his hands on my shoulders and turns me around, until my back is to his chest. He then gently leans me on the wall. He grabs my hands firmly, yet gently and he stretches them above my head. I feel the hard length of him pressing into the small of my back and I stifle my sigh of pleasure. I feel him there and then I start panicking, "Harry, what are you doing?"

He replies by trailing kisses along my shoulders, to my ears and then back along my shoulders. I know he is trying to help me relax, but this, whatever he has in mind, is new, frightening and exciting all at once.

"You do trust me?" he asks softly as his hands slide along my stomach, to the swell of my breasts.

"With my life, Harry," I whisper.

"Then you have absolutely nothing to worry about," he whisper reassuringly as his hands gently work their magic, teasing every pressure point he has discovered during the last few weeks.