Chapter 7: Summer of Firsts

Granger Household

Harry woke up slowly, his head resting comfortably on something soft. His mind, still hazy with sleep, took a few seconds to catch up as he realized where he was—leaning against Hermione. Their heads had tilted toward one another at some point during the car ride, and their hands were still clasped loosely between them. He blinked, his face heating up as he became more aware of how close they were.

The sound of the car engine cutting off brought him fully awake. Dan Granger, seated in the driver's seat, turned back with a kind smile. "We're here, kids."

Hermione shifted beside Harry, her eyes fluttering open. For a brief second, she blinked up at him in confusion, her lips parted as though about to ask where they were. Then she seemed to remember, and a warm, sleepy smile spread across her face. "Home," she murmured, sitting up straighter but not pulling her hand away from his.

Harry felt a small pang of reluctance as their hands finally slipped apart, but he quickly masked it with a sheepish smile of his own. He turned to look out the window and took in his first sight of the Granger family home. It wasn't grand like Malfoy Manor or even as large as the Dursleys' house, but it radiated warmth. Flowers bordered the walkway leading up to the house, and the garden was meticulously cared for, the air fragrant with the scent of freshly mown grass and blooming flowers.

Dan and Emma were already out of the car, pulling bags from the trunk, while Harry stood, still absorbing the newness of it all. The home was nothing like the place he'd grown up in—this house felt... safe. Welcoming. Almost like Hogwarts in its own way.

Hermione nudged him gently. "Come on, I'll show you around," she said, her tone light as she took his hand again, leading him up the path toward the front door.

The door opened, revealing a cozy living room bathed in soft evening light. The walls were lined with family photos, and shelves were filled with books, magazines, and little trinkets from what Harry guessed were family vacations.

"This way," Hermione said, gently guiding him up the stairs. The house had a lived-in, homely feeling—soft carpets, worn furniture, and the faint scent of lavender wafting from somewhere upstairs. As they reached the top of the stairs, Hermione gestured to a door. "You'll be staying in here," she said, pushing the door open.

Harry stepped into what was clearly a spare bedroom, but he was taken aback by the sheer number of books on the shelves. Every available surface seemed to be covered in books of all sizes and genres, most of which he recognized from Hogwarts.

"I... may have brought some of my books here over the years," Hermione admitted, her cheeks slightly pink as she glanced at the shelves. "I thought you might like something to read."

Harry chuckled, touched by the gesture. "Only you would think of stocking a guest room with more books than a library."

Hermione grinned. "I thought you might appreciate it. And, well, if you get bored, there's always something new to discover."

He looked around, feeling an unexpected sense of belonging in the room. "This is really nice, Hermione. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, her voice softening. For a moment, their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them—a shared understanding that this summer was already going to be different, special in ways neither of them could quite put into words yet.

They made their way back downstairs, where Dan and Emma were setting out takeaway containers on the dining table. Harry caught the mouthwatering scent of something unfamiliar but utterly delicious.

"Chinese food," Emma announced with a smile as she saw him sniffing the air. "We thought you might like to try something new."

Harry's stomach rumbled at the smell, but he hesitated. "I've never had Chinese food before."

Dan looked surprised. "Really? Well, you're in for a treat. Let's dig in."

They all sat down around the table, and Harry watched as Hermione skillfully used her chopsticks, picking up noodles with ease. He glanced down at his own chopsticks, feeling a bit lost. Sensing his struggle, Hermione smiled and quickly swapped his chopsticks for a fork.

"It takes practice," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "But you'll get the hang of it."

Harry grinned back, feeling more comfortable as he tasted the food—flavors he'd never experienced before, each bite more delicious than the last. The meal was relaxed, with the Grangers chatting amiably about the upcoming summer plans. Hermione explained the dishes to Harry, her voice carrying that familiar tone she used when sharing something she loved.

After the meal, Harry found himself instinctively rising to help with the dishes. "I can clean up," he offered, already moving toward the sink.

Dan shook his head, chuckling. "No need, Harry. You're our guest."

"I don't mind," Harry insisted, his habit of helping around the Dursleys' house ingrained too deeply to ignore. "Really, it's the least I can do."

He started rinsing plates, and to his surprise, Hermione joined him, standing beside him at the sink. They worked quietly, their movements in sync as they passed dishes back and forth. Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settling over him.

Harry's internal clock woke him early the next morning, long before dawn. He lay in bed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the stillness of the house. At the Dursleys', he'd always woken up early to make breakfast, and his body seemed to expect the same routine here. After a moment of indecision, he decided to get up.

The house was quiet as he padded downstairs, careful not to make too much noise. He found his way to the kitchen, unsure where everything was, but determined to figure it out. After opening several drawers and cupboards, he managed to gather the necessary utensils and ingredients. He frowned slightly, realizing he wasn't sure where some things were kept, but he made do with what he could find.

As he fumbled with the frying pan, he heard a soft voice from the doorway. "Harry?"

He turned to see Emma standing there, her eyes bleary from sleep but curious. She had her robe wrapped around her, her hair slightly tousled.

"What are you doing up so early?" she asked, stepping into the kitchen.

Harry hesitated, feeling awkward. "I... I wanted to make breakfast. I always do it at the Dursleys'. It's... kind of what I'm used to."

Emma frowned slightly, her eyes softening. She walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Harry, you don't need to do that here. You're not our servant."

"I know," Harry said quietly, glancing down at the pan. "But it just... feels normal. Like I'm doing something useful."

She studied him for a long moment before sighing softly. "Well, I won't stop you if it makes you feel better. But why don't we make a deal?"

Harry looked up, confused. "A deal?"

Emma smiled. "You cook breakfast, and I'll take care of dinner. That way, you're not doing all the work, alright?"

Harry blinked, surprised by the offer. "Deal," he said, a small smile forming on his lips.

As they worked side by side in the kitchen, the early morning light began filtering through the windows, casting a soft glow over everything. Harry felt more at ease as he cooked, the simple act of preparing breakfast bringing him a sense of calm.

By the time Hermione and Dan came downstairs, the kitchen was filled with the smell of sizzling bacon and eggs. Hermione blinked in surprise when she saw Harry and her mother working together.

"You're cooking already?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. "It's barely morning."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Old habits."

Hermione just smiled as she sat down at the table, watching as Harry and her mum finished up breakfast.

When they all sat down to eat, the mood was light, with Dan joking about how they might have to hire Harry as their personal chef for the summer. Harry laughed along, feeling more comfortable than he ever had in any home before.

Shopping District

Later that afternoon, Emma announced that they would be taking Harry shopping for some new clothes. Harry immediately felt a pang of discomfort. Shopping had never been something he particularly enjoyed—mostly because he rarely got anything new for himself. The Dursleys had always forced him to wear Dudley's old hand-me-downs, clothes that barely fit and were always too big.

But Hermione had insisted, and before he knew it, they were all piled into the car, heading to a nearby shopping center.

The shops were busy with people going about their day, and Harry felt a bit out of place as they wandered through the racks of clothes. Dan and Emma helped him pick out a few things—basic t-shirts, jeans, and some much-needed shoes. Hermione, of course, had her own opinions, pulling shirts and jackets for him to try on with an appraising look.

"You need more color," she insisted, holding up a bright blue shirt that made Harry grimace. "You can't wear black all the time, Harry."

"I don't wear black all the time," he protested, but the smile on her face told him she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

After several rounds of trying on different outfits, they finally made their way to the swimwear section. Harry's attention drifted as he flipped through some trunks, until he heard Hermione call his name.

"Harry," she said, her voice laced with mischief. "What do you think?"

He turned around and felt his breath catch. Hermione stood there in a bikini, a playful smile on her face as she posed slightly for him. The bikini was simple but flattering, and Harry felt his face heat up as his eyes darted between her and the ground.

"I, uh... looks good," he stammered, unable to form a coherent thought.

Hermione's grin widened. "You're adorable when you're flustered."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he just nodded dumbly, feeling like his brain had short-circuited.

After a few more rounds of shopping, they finally headed back home, Harry grateful to have new clothes that actually fit him for once. He also couldn't shake the image of Hermione in that bikini from his mind, no matter how hard he tried.

Granger Household

The next few days passed in a blur of routine. Harry continued cooking breakfast each morning, and the rest of the day was spent in quiet companionship with Hermione. They worked on their summer homework together, often sitting outside in the garden with their books spread out before them. The peacefulness of the Granger home was a stark contrast to the chaos Harry had grown used to at Hogwarts.

One afternoon, after they'd finished a particularly grueling essay for Potions, Hermione suggested they go for a swim. Harry hesitated, glancing over at the pool in the Grangers' backyard.

"I, uh... don't really know how to swim," he admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You don't know how to swim?"

He shook his head, shifting uncomfortably. "The Dursleys never really bothered to teach me."

"Well, that won't do," Hermione said firmly, standing up. "Come on, I'll teach you."

Before Harry could protest, Hermione had grabbed his hand and was pulling him toward the pool. She handed him a pair of swim trunks, and after a few moments of nervous hesitation, Harry changed and met her at the edge of the pool.

The water was cool and refreshing as they waded in, but Harry still felt a bit out of his depth—literally. He stayed near the shallow end while Hermione swam with ease, her movements graceful and confident.

"Alright," Hermione said, coming over to him. "First, we'll start with floating. Just lean back, and I'll hold you up."

Harry frowned. "I'm not sure I can..."

"You can," Hermione assured him, her tone gentle but firm. "Trust me."

Taking a deep breath, Harry followed her instructions, leaning back into the water. At first, his body tensed, and he felt like he was going to sink, but Hermione's hands were steady beneath him, guiding him as he floated on the surface.

"See?" she said, her voice soft. "You're doing it."

Harry let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, the tension slowly leaving his body. For the first time, he felt the water supporting him, and a sense of calm washed over him.

They spent the rest of the afternoon like that, Hermione patiently teaching Harry the basics of swimming. By the end of the day, he was able to swim a few strokes without her help, though he still felt a bit shaky.

"You're a fast learner," Hermione said with a smile as they climbed out of the pool, toweling off in the warm afternoon sun.

"Only because I had a good teacher," Harry replied, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

After their swim, Hermione headed inside to shower while Harry lingered in the hot tub, letting the warm water soothe his tired muscles. The sun had begun to set, casting the backyard in a soft golden glow. Harry leaned back against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes and letting himself relax.

Eventually, he decided to head inside. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed that the water wasn't running, and the door was slightly ajar. Assuming Hermione had finished, he pushed the door open.

But the moment he stepped inside, he froze.

Hermione stood in front of the mirror, completely naked, her back to him as she towel-dried her hair. Harry's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in shock. He knew he should look away—turn around, leave, do anything but stare—but his body seemed rooted to the spot.

It wasn't until Hermione turned slightly, catching his reflection in the mirror, that she noticed him. For a split second, their eyes locked. Hermione didn't shriek or cover herself; she just stared back at him, her expression calm but expectant.

"Harry," she said quietly, her voice composed. "Could you give me a moment?"

Her tone snapped him out of his trance, and he stumbled back, mumbling an apology as he hurriedly exited the bathroom, his face burning with embarrassment.

Later that evening, after dinner, the Grangers decided to make s'mores around the campfire in the backyard. Dan and Emma took care of setting up the fire, and soon the flames were crackling merrily in the firepit. The sweet scent of melting marshmallows filled the air as they all sat around the fire, talking and laughing under the starlit sky.

Dan and Emma eventually excused themselves, heading inside to give the kids some space. Harry and Hermione remained by the fire, the warmth from the flames casting flickering shadows across their faces.

Harry stared into the fire, feeling the weight of everything that had happened recently—the bite, the changes, the uncertainty of the future. And yet, sitting here with Hermione, he felt grounded in a way he hadn't in a long time.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Hermione," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire. It was the truth, plain and simple. Hermione had been his rock through everything—the danger, the confusion, the fear. Without her, he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle it all.

Hermione looked at him, her eyes soft but filled with something deeper, something that made Harry's heart race. "You don't have to find out," she replied softly. "I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you ask me to."

Harry swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words settle over him. "I wouldn't," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I wouldn't ask you to leave."

Hermione smiled, a gentle, reassuring smile that made Harry's chest feel tight. She leaned forward, and before he knew what was happening, her lips were on his again—soft, warm, and familiar. The kiss was slow, unhurried, filled with a quiet intensity that made Harry's heart pound.

When they finally pulled apart, Hermione's hand still lingered on his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against his skin.

"Harry," she whispered, her voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. He hadn't expected her to ask—not like this, not now. But as he looked into her eyes, he realized that it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course, he wanted to be with her. Of course, he wanted to be hers.

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'd like that."

A wide, genuine smile spread across Hermione's face, and she kissed him again, softly, tenderly. When they pulled apart this time, they sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the fire wrapping around them like a protective cocoon.

As the fire slowly died down and the night grew colder, Harry and Hermione made their way back inside, their hands still intertwined. The house was quiet, and the weight of what lay ahead began to settle over them.

Once they were inside, Hermione turned to Harry, her expression serious but determined. "We need to talk about the full moon," she said quietly.

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He had been trying not to think about it, but the full moon was fast approaching, and he knew he couldn't avoid it any longer.

"I know," he replied, his voice low. "But I don't really know what to do."

Hermione moved closer, her fingers tightening around his. "We'll figure it out together. You're not going through this alone."

They sat down in the living room, and Hermione began explaining the plan she'd been thinking about. "We can't stay here during the full moon. It's not safe. But I was thinking we could go out to the countryside—somewhere isolated. We could camp out, and I'll stay with you."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. "You'll stay with me? Hermione, that's—"

"Dangerous, I know," Hermione interrupted, her tone firm. "But I trust you. And I'll have protective spells ready, just in case. But I'm not letting you go through this alone, Harry. Not after everything."

Harry's chest tightened, a mixture of fear and gratitude swirling inside him. The idea of Hermione being near him during the transformation terrified him, but the thought of facing it without her was even worse.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione nodded, her eyes filled with quiet resolve. "I'm sure."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he just nodded, his heart swelling with a mixture of fear, gratitude, and something he couldn't quite put into words.

AN: Next chapter will be the first full moon for Harry. Here is some review responses:

To FlowerChild23: Me too. I feel bad for them and I wrote that chapter.

To dennisdaugherty1962: I'm glad you like the story. But I did update the story 9 hours before your review.

To johnymike98: Yes to both Daphne and Astoria. But no to Susan and Millie. I have plans for Susan that will be seen later. And as for Millie, I have no plans whatsoever for her. I wouldn't even know how to pair her with someone that isn't in Slytherin.