A/N: Chap 21 review responses are in my forums as always.

This was not a particularly pleasant chapter to write, but it was absolutely necessary and inevitable. Thank you for reading.

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Power of Touch

Harry sat up with a sigh, despairing of getting any kind of sleep.

For some reason, the girls decided to sleep away from him as an "experiment", Hermione called it. Luna was actually sleeping alone that night, while Hermione and Justine spent the night together, for the second night in a row.

So, it was his second night sleeping alone and, just like the previous night, he hardly slept at all. Since Luna finally came back to him after their bond, he had not been alone at night. That wasn't to say they made love every night, but he loved the feel of her body pressed against his, while he had grown to love just as much the feel of Hermione's magic when she slept close.

Without them, the bed seemed cold, empty and way too large.

He sighed again and walked to the loo to splash water on his face. He looked up into the mirror, looking at the gleam of magic in his eyes. He did not particularly like looking in the mirror, but he did so now intently. His face had never been fat because of his sparse diet growing up, but now it looked thinner and sharper than he remembered. His chin bristled with whiskers, but he couldn't claim a beard. His one attempt to grow one resulted in Luna laughing at him and Hermione ordering him to shave. He gave in without a battle since it looked like patches of fuzz Spellotaped to his face.

What most startled him, though, was how pale his skin had become, and how bright his eyes looked. He compared himself to other kids his age, and most were not as pale as he, nor were their eyes as brightly lit with magic. He knew he was powerful—he could feel it, and even Voldemort commented on it during that terrible encounter his first year. But only in these quiet moments of solitude, looking at his reflection, could he see the truth.

He was not human.

With another sigh, he left the loo and then his room, vaguely thinking of a cup of hot cocoa, when one of the doors further down the hall opened and Hermione stepped out of the loo the other rooms on the floor shared.

The two teens stopped and stared at each other a moment before Hermione said, "Harry, what are you doing up? It's almost two!"

"I couldn't sleep," Harry admitted. "What about you?"

"I drank too much water before going to bed," she confessed. She walked closer and studied the circles under his eyes and gently placed a hand on his chest. "You didn't sleep last night either, did you? Why?"

Harry looked down, and then ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "Hermione, did I do something wrong? Did I make you or Luna mad at me? You both left me and…and I guess I'm lonely. I'm sorry if I did anything, or said anything, it's just that…"

She stopped him with a finger to his lips. "Harry, this isn't about you. This is about us trying to make sense of sharing a single man between so many women. It's about…me and Luna trying to come to grips with being so very different. We're not doing this to hurt you."

Harry blushed and looked down at his feet. "I can understand that," he said in a soft, utterly heart-broken voice. "None of you asked for this, I know. I'll just go back to bed, I guess. Good night."

Hermione watched as her husband of less than six months walked with a bowed head back to the master suite at the end of the hall. She sighed herself and started to go back into the room she had been sharing with Justine. It was her second night, and while she would never have believed it before, she had found the time with the Hufflepuff to be incredibly soothing. They were not intimate at all—Hermione really had no desires in and of herself to do that with a woman. Luna was an exception she still felt rather naughty about.

Instead, she and Justine simply cuddled together. Any touching was incidental and innocent, and the two simply enjoyed the feel of their magic resting against the other, and the warmth of their bodies. In truth, it was some of the best sleep Hermione ever had since she had no fear of waking up to the frenzied thrashing of a coupling pair beside her.

The door opened before her hand turned the knob and a sleepy Justine stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. "I heard," she said. The two spoke softly, mindful of the many other people sleeping in the house.

Hermione just nodded. "I feel bad for him."

"Then why don't you go to him? You are his wife."

"I…didn't want to leave you." Hermione stopped and stared; Justine stared right back.

"You don't think…"

"He's already had a vision of you as his third wife," Hermione said softly.

"Do you think Luna would mind?"

"You won't bond him, not without her," Hermione said. "But we all know it's just a matter of time. I mean, if you want to."

Justine said softly, "Don't take this the wrong way, Hermione, but I've been wanting to since last year. I've been dreaming of it, since that time in Divination when he touched my magic. I want him, Hermione. I want to feel his magic inside me and…other things." She finished the last with a blush.

Suddenly making up her mind, Hermione took her friend's hand and led her to the master suite. Harry was still awake, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at his feet. He looked up in surprise at who entered his room. "Hermione, Justine, what..?"

"Consider it a preview," Hermione said, blushing furiously.

"But what about Luna?"

"We won't bond her tonight, Harry," Hermione said. "But we all know she's next."

Harry looked at Justine, his eyes ablaze in the dim light of the room. "Are you sure about this? I mean…"

Remembering what Hermione had told her of Amelia's story, Justine let her night shirt fall to the floor. Harry stuttered into silence and stared as if transfixed. As an experiment, Hermione smirked and let her own pyjamas fall. Harry stared between them, eyes bulging and almost thrumming.

"Just for tonight, Harry," Hermione said. "I said it's not about you, but we never intended to hurt you. So, for tonight, you'll be with us."

"Okay," Harry managed to stutter.

The three had no idea how much trouble they would be in.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Calliope Granger stared at the note in confusion for a moment before she looked up and saw a house that was not there a moment ago. "A special charm hides the home," Remus Lupin explained.

"That's…rather frightening," Edwin noted.

The two had just arrived from Australia at the invitation of Hermione's former professor. They chose to accept only because of how highly she spoke of the wizard in her letters for the few years she had him. It was he who explained what happened just moments after they left the manor early in September, and it was he who told them their only daughter had bonded and become the second wife of Harry Potter.

So now the two of them followed Remus into the strange house that appeared from nowhere, ready to see their daughter for the first time in months. At the doorstep, he handed each of them a gold pendent decorated with odd symbols on a string. "Keep these on all the time—it'll protect you from the ambient magic of the wards. The other Muggle parents in the house are wearing them too."

Just inside the door, they were greeted not with hugs or happy smiles, but with the sound of a furious, heart-broken screech that reverberated through the house. The scream was followed by an explosion, and then a loud thud, like a body hitting the floor.

"Oh my God, Edwin, what's happening?" she said.

Remus was already running up the stairs, and Calliope and Edwin followed. They ran into the hall just in time to see a grim-faced Amelia Bones rushing down the hall her wand held like a pistol toward the far end of the impossibly long hallway, where the door to the master suite stood open. The Grangers followed after, terrified at what might be happening.

Their terror turned to confusion when they came up behind Bones with Lupin and found a perfectly naked Luna Lovegood standing in the middle of the suite, crying. On the ceiling were three vaguely humanoid figures hidden underneath a thick coating of what looked like tar and feathers.

"Mrs Potter, would you mind telling me what is happening?" Amelia asked carefully.

Calliope didn't know what was worse—the fact that her daughter was likely up on that ceiling, or that the head of the magical law was very obviously fighting not to laugh about it.

"Do you hear that, Hermione?" Luna said to one of the feathery lumps on the ceiling. "She called me Mrs Potter. Why is that, you might ask—if the wrackspurts haven't stopped you thinking altogether? Because I am First Wife!" She stamped her foot angrily, which given the fact she was completely naked had interesting effects. Calliope noticed that Lupin was staring unabashedly, and then saw her husband was smirking.

"Men out," she decided. "Remus, Edwin, get out."

"Good idea," Edwin agreed. When Lupin didn't, he reached over and grabbed the shorter man by the arm. "Come on, chap. We don't need the show."

Lupin snapped out of it with a startled shake of his head. "Er, sorry," he muttered, flushing.

"Never seen a naked girl before?"

"Only once," the werewolf said dimly before he followed Edwin out.

Once the men were gone, Calliope took a step past Amelia. "Luna, darling, can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Oh, hello Mrs Granger, what a pleasure to see you again," Luna said with a startlingly normal, even friendly tone. A split second later her face warped in anger and she was screaming again. "I'm the first wife!" she said, stamping her foot. "I decide who goes to Harry's bed, not Hermione. It's my job! It's my right! Hermione had no right to bring Justine in before we were bonded, and she had no right to do it without my permission!"

Amelia's urge to laugh faltered. "Miss Granger, did you knowingly allow Miss Finch into Mr Potter's bed?" The sudden formality made Calliope concerned.

One of the tarred, feathered lumps said weakly, "Yes."

Luna suddenly collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Calliope was about to go to her when one of the lumps exploded in a shower of tar and feathers. She stumbled back from the unexpected wash of heat and barely saw as Harry fell to the floor, clad only in a pair of boxers. His skin was smeared with bits of tar, but for the most part he was clean, save for feathers in his hair. As he walked, Calliope found herself caught by the unconscious grace and power of his movements. The boy was fifteen years old, and yet he reminded her of someone much older.

He sat down in front of Luna and started to pull her into his arms, but she pulled back with an angry, animalistic cry. His frown deepened into a grimace and his brilliant eyes shone like liquid, when suddenly the air shimmered around him. Amelia gasped and covered her eyes to whatever he was doing, while Luna squealed and shot onto his lap as if drawn by an extremely powerful magnet.

Once she was there, she stopped fighting while Harry gently rocked her. "It wasn't just Hermione's fault, Luna," Harry said to her, his voice remarkably calm. "I could have said no."

"No you couldn't, you prat," Luna said between sobs. "If wizards could say no to naked witches, there wouldn't be any poaching at school. It was Hermione's fault."

"I was the one whinging about being lonely," Harry said. He held her head to his shoulder as he rocked her. "I thought I'd done something wrong. You all left me, and it felt like I was being punished. We never meant to hurt you, Luna. I know Hermione didn't mean to hurt you, and Justine didn't either. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"This whole situation is simply fucked up," Calliope said, stunned.

"Mother!" a lump of tar said.

"Well, it is!" Calliope said. "Hermione, you brought another woman to your husband's bed? Who does that?"

"Witches, Mrs Granger," Amelia said. "After all, I was the one to bring my friend to my husband's bed when we took a second wife. It is an unavoidable aspect of our culture that we are not monogamous. Which is why," she said with greater volume, "we have traditions, rules and etiquette to govern how we should behave in a polygamous marriage. One of the most basic and important rules, Miss Granger, is that the First Wife always determines who gets to share the wizard's bed. While your heart may have been in the right place, what you've done is a grievous offense. It would be well within Luna's right to demand the Dame Branwenna to have your magic stilled and your bond broken."

Luna's sobs turned to wails as her arms wrapped around Harry's neck. The charms holding Hermione and Jessica collapsed and both girls fell to the floor with surprised screams. The tar and feathers, though, remained.

"I think for all your sakes that you need to deal with this later," Amelia said. "When your emotions are not so high." With a flick of her wand she levitated the two tarred and feathered witches out of the room. "Mr Potter, attend to your first wife. Mrs Granger, I'm sorry that your return could not be more enjoyable, however I could use your assistance."

Calliope followed, confused and upset. "Do you really think it's wise to just leave them in there after that?"

"Unless you want to watch him shag Luna silly, I don't see a reason to be in there," Amelia said. Glancing at Calliope's angry expression, Amelia smiled. "Calliope, listen, I know this doesn't make sense to you, but please remember that these are not ordinary Muggle teenagers. These are bonded witches and wizards. Did you see how Lupin reacted to Luna? He is not a paedophile, I promise. In fact he's one of the most honourable men I've ever met. However, as I was telling your daughter two days ago, wizards are programmed to respond to naked witches. Just as bonds are an evolutionary trait of magic, so are our responses to each other. Luna responds to Harry's magic just as Lupin responded to her body. Right now, the only way for him to calm her down is to have sex. Probably a lot of sex, knowing those two. Once her body and magic have been appeased, she'll be much calmer and will be able to approach this in a much more logical fashion."

Calliope looked at her daughter and her daughter's friend. "So things like this happen sometimes?"

"Sometimes? This happens all the time. Bonds don't cause love, Calliope. Luna and Hermione are a perfect example of that. And having multiple wives inevitably leads to jealousies and anger. But it's necessary for our survival as a race, and that's why there is so much formality surrounding the process. While what Hermione did is perfectly logical from a Muggle perspective, from Luna's perspective it was the most foul and grievous betrayal."

Calliope realized that last was intended for Hermione and Justine, both Muggleborns. "What…what do you think she'll do to Hermione?"

"Hopefully forgive her, but law and tradition gives her the right to demand everything from imprisonment to death. Now, let's get these girls cleaned up, shall we?"

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

"Have you settled in yet?" Hermione asked.

She sat in a chair with the ugliest green and black upholstery in the guest room where her parents were staying. Her Mum and Dad were both sitting on the edge of their bed, staring intently at her.

"Yes," Calliope said. "We were able to sell our share of the practice, and our home recently sold as well. The money was enough to find a nice place in Port Macquarie on the southeast coast ... Beautiful area, really. Hermione…what happened after we left? We tried calling Allison and were told she had left the country in mourning!"

Hermione bowed her head in silence. "Sir Marcus was testing new weapons on young Muggleborn witches who wouldn't be missed in either world. Madam Bones had no choice but to attack. When she did, Sir Marcus used one of the weapons and killed a witch. They killed him for it, and then destroyed the house. We had to make a penance to the Sabbat, and a Dame took us in for a week or two before Harry returned from across the pond."

"And this bonding?"

"Harry was attacked by Hit Witches while he was over there, and proved he was still powerful, so they ordered him to bond again to reduce his power. They don't realize the bonds don't work like that with him and Luna. Since it was always going to be me or Justine, we…we tossed a coin and it came up heads."

Calliope looked as if she were going to cry. "You're only sixteen, Hermione."

"Yes, it's silly, isn't it? We could all live for centuries, but they rush us to get married while were still in our teen years. Although, really, I suppose it's just the boys. They view bonds as a means of controlling wizards."

"Why?"

Hermione looked at her parents sadly. "Mum, Harry is so powerful that when he flashed his magic at Luna, it just…overwhelmed her. If it had been me, it would have been the same thing. It's…it's…frightening to know how much power he has, not just in magic, but over us. Our bodies respond to his magic. If he were a bad person…" Hermione shuddered, not wishing to finish the thought. "A part of me understands why the Sabbat tries so hard to limit that kind of power. It's a threat not just to their power, but to them personally. Dumbledore used his magic alone to quiet the Senior Undersecretary of at the Yule Ball. I didn't realize it at the time, but he did, and it scared her badly."

"So," Calliope said, "you're married. You have a sister wife who somehow outranks you, even though you're older. And everyone seems to expect Justine to be the next wife. So, why is all this fuss there over her being with you in Harry's bed?"

"Because it wasn't my place," Hermione admitted, barely in a whisper. "I violated a sacred trust and an ancient common law. Cuckoldry in the magical world is considered line theft—a terrible crime. It doesn't matter if she's to be his next wife. By letting Justine join us, I violated law, custom, and…and Luna's trust."

"So why did you?"

Hermione stared down at her hands. "Because I'm a stupid, ignorant Muggleborn, and I didn't know any better because no one taught me. No one expected me to ever be in a marriage."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

The look on the other witches' faces that afternoon bothered Calliope so much she clutched Edwin's hand in concern. The other girls—Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot both looked stunned and scandalized. But what bothered her most was the look on the two female Aurors who had arrived as well—Nymphadora Tonks and Emmeline Vance looked at Hermione with angry frowns. It seemed almost as if they were a jury getting ready to pronounce judgment. Calliope wanted to jump up and start shouting, "What is wrong with you people?" but Edwin's firm grip on her hand kept her safely grounded.

The small Order of the Phoenix had gathered in the ball room of the house, which to the Granger's confusion was actually larger than the house appeared from the outside. Chairs were conjured, with Hermione and Justine sitting in a corner, looking nervous and a little frightened.

It was two days before Christmas, and the house felt like a jail.

The door opened and Amelia Bones walked in with Luna by her side, thankfully dressed. Calliope noticed that Harry was not in the room at all, nor were any of the wizards. Edwin was the only male in the room, and even then he, like the other Muggles, was relegated to the role of passive observers.

The two witches walked by Hermione and Justine, who both stood. Luna's face was uncharacteristically cold, without any sign of that slightly absent, serene smile Calliope had seen during her brief stay with them. "I want to know why," Luna demanded. "Before your peers, tell me why you cuckolded me and betrayed your own vows."

The little girl Calliope raised would have vociferously defended herself. Calliope certainly would have. Instead, Hermione lowered her head. "I… didn't realize how wrong I was. After Madame Bones told me, I looked it up in the house library and realized the extent of my mistake. It was a well-intentioned mistake, but a grave one regardless, and I take full responsibility. Justine came only because I invited her, and I invited her because I was afraid Harry felt he was being punished, even if he wasn't. I was wrong, Luna." She finally looked up and met the other girl's eyes. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I never, not in a million years, meant to hurt you. I thought since Justine was going to be his wife anyway, what did it hurt? But now I know how wrong that was. I'm so sorry."

"So your ignorance is an excuse?" Luna asked coldly.

Hermione blinked as if slapped and even Calliope was amazed at the question. "No," the Gryffindor said. "No, there is no excuse for what I did, Luna. It may be the reason, but not an excuse. I hurt you, whether I meant to or not, I know I did, and for that there will never be an excuse."

"You did hurt me," Luna agreed, her eyes moist. "You hurt me badly. I thought, after everything, I could trust you. You held me, after Umbridge hurt Harry so badly. You loved me, and I thought and hoped and prayed that you would be the sister I always wanted, before the covens stuck that knife in my Mum's belly. That's what I thought of, when I walked in and saw you and Justine in our husband's bed without me. I felt like you were stabbing me in the stomach, just like they stabbed my mum."

For the first time, Hermione showed emotion, bowing and sobbing as if struck.

"I want to love you, Hermione. I want to, but I just don't know if I can trust you. I'm first wife—that means something. It means I am Harry's wife. No, I can't have children, but I still have final say over his bed. That's the custom and law. And punishment falls to me when that custom is broken. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded, head bent still.

"Your punishment is to be deprived of touch or magic for the remainder of the holidays. You cannot touch Harry or even sit near him. You are to sleep alone in your own bed without comfort of any touch. Any violation of these terms will add another week to your punishment. Do you agree to these terms?"

Hermione looked up, hopeful. "Yes," she said weakly.

Luna raised her chin. "This may sound like nothing, Hermione, but you don't understand what it means. Think back to before Hogwarts. You never knew how miserable you were until you felt Harry's touch that first time. You don't even realize how often you touch those around you during the course of the day. There shall be no touch for the remainder of the holidays."

She stepped back, and said to Madame Bones, "As First wife, this is my judgment and prayer. If my peers agree, then so mote it be."

The other witches in the room said, "So mote it be" in unison, as if it were rehearsed.

"So mote it be," Madam Bones said without any trace of a smile. She pointed her wand at Hermione, and with a turn and jab, said, "Es non sola!"

Calliope could not see the magic that surrounded her daughter, but saw some of the other witches in the room sit up at it. When it was done, Luna turned and ran out of the room, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Edwin, angry at seeing his daughter punished, said "And Harry's just the innocent bystander in all this?"

Several witches turned angrily toward him, but surprisingly it was Hermione who answered. "Yes, dad, he was. It was my fault and my fault alone. Luna's punishment was more than fair. It was merciful, and I'm grateful that she…" She tried to continue, but her voice cracked. With a shake of her head, she too ran from the room.

"Remember what the professors in your orientation told you, Mr Granger," Amelia said coolly. "We are not like you. Please do not interfere in things you cannot understand. Ladies, thank you for coming. Auror Tonks, you'll be in charge of their duelling drills this afternoon."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Calliope watched over the next few days as Hermione shrank into herself. The dark rings around her magical brown eyes spoke eloquently of her sleepless nights, while her lanky hair gave mute testimony to her failure to care for herself properly. She went through the magical drills the others went through, sat silently in Sybil's classes covering the details of every Dame and Elder, their past votes, and who would be most sympathetic to their cause.

She picked at her food without eating.

At night, Hermione watched Harry with such overwhelming, hopeless longing it made Calliope want to cry. Moreover, Harry stared right back, his eyes gleaming with emotion. Often, when Hermione walked into the room, he stood and abruptly walked out, his face warped by anger.

"What right does he have to be angry at our little girl?" Edwin said on the second such occasion, when Hermione had come into the library where Harry, Susan and Luna were studying. He looked up, his face took on a pained expression, and he virtually ran past Hermione, who sighed and sank just a little further in on herself.

Hannah Abbot happened to be walking by just then and turned to stare at the two. She was an attractive, round-faced girl with earthen-brown eyes and attractive dimples. However, she was frowning heavily at them. "What makes you think he's mad at her?" the girl demanded.

"Did you see his face?" Edwin snapped.

"Yes. I saw the face of a man forced away from his wife, whom he can't touch," Hannah said. "This is punishing Harry as much as it is Hermione. She can't touch him, but that also means he can't touch her."

"You all said it wasn't his fault."

"It isn't, not really," Hannah said. "If Susan and say, Jessica Rivers, crawled naked into Neville's bed he'd have done the same thing, because his magic is telling him to mate with as many witches as possible to propagate our race. It's like your biological drive on steroids for wizards. It's what makes it so easy for witches to poach them. But Susan would never do that because I am senior wife, and I determine who if anyone gets to come to Neville's bed. It's my right and responsibility as first wife. That's why witches try so hard to poach—so that they can be first wives."

"So you think Harry's suffering too?" Calliope asked.

Hannah looked at the two a moment, before she calmly took Calliope's hand. The shock was more pronounced with Hermione, but after a moment became quite pleasant. "To us," she said softly, "this is life. Touch is so important to us, it's impossible for a non-magical to understand. But you can see what happens when it's denied to us. Just look at Hermione. Please, try to understand it has to be this way. Hermione will get through this—she's strong. And their marriage will be the stronger for it."

The rest of the holidays passed under a pall because of Hermione's quickly deteriorating condition. She lost an alarming amount of weight and grew snappish and irritable around others. The one time Calliope tried to comfort her, she was startled to find she could not actually touch her daughter, which caused Hermione to run crying to the single small room set aside for her use.

Finally, though, the holidays came to an end. Calliope and Edwin sat in the library, reading a strange version of La Mort de Arthur, which in the magical world was actually considered real history, and which diverged greatly from the fictional poem they knew about from Uni, when Hermione walked in on the far side of the room. With the room being quite large, she did not see her parents as she walked to a book shelf and virtually collapsed to the floor. Her stringy hair looked terrible and thin, as if some had fallen out, and her pallor was such Calliope felt worry that she was actually sick.

A moment later, Luna and Harry walked in. Calliope strained, but could not hear what they said. However, a moment later they heard their daughter's broken cry of pain, anguish and hope as she collapsed into Harry's arms. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" She wailed her voice deeper and more wrenching that either Granger had ever heard. It was not the cry of an anguished girl, but of a distraught woman. Calliope felt tears rolling down her eyes, and looking at her husband saw him weeping as well.

Harry pulled her onto his lap just like he did with Luna at the beginning of the holiday, and rocked her while crooning softly. Gently, as if lifted by the air, Harry rose up out of his sitting position with Hermione cradled in his arms and left the room. Luna lingered a moment, staring at the Grangers. She smiled weakly, wiped her own tears from her face, and nodded. A moment later, she was gone.

sp

sp

Author's Note: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.