Ginny Weasley poured boiling water into her mug before placing her kettle back on the hob. She yawned as she dipped her teabag, taking her time so that the flavour was infused exactly to her liking. She was irked and she was tired. The previous day she had been involved in an epic quidditch match that eventually saw the Harpies triumph against the Montrose Magpies after a seven-and a half hour battle and she was still feeling more than a little exhausted after all the exertion.
If she was honest with herself, there was a second reason she was irked that the game had lasted so long. The late capture of the snitch had meant that she was unable to attend Kingsley's little gathering and if there was one thing she enjoyed almost as much as quidditch, it was attending events with the beau monde of the wizarding world. Especially if she got to attend such events on the arm of Harry Potter.
She eventually removed the teabag from her mug and dropped it into the bin before sitting down on her favourite sofa and curling her legs up against herself. She blew on her tea as she contemplated just how long it had been since she had attended any event with Harry on her arm.
It's been months. Nearly a year. It's almost as if he's deliberately not inviting me to be his date.
She shook her head in denial. She was aware that the many arrangements Harry had with his friends, allied to his dislike of attending social functions meant that opportunities to accompany him were few and far between.
He'll ask me to the next one. I wonder who he went with last night? It couldn't have been Katie as she was playing for the Magpies. Daphne maybe? Gabrielle? Luna?
As if in answer to her unspoken question, she heard a gentle tap-tapping at the window and smiled as she recognised a delivery owl from the Sunday Prophet. Lifting her wand, she gave it a practiced flick that allowed the owl to enter and drop her copy of the newspaper into her lap. It flew off immediately and she closed the window behind it before unfolding the paper and turning her attention to the lead story.
She nearly spilled her tea as she lurched forward when she saw the image emblazoned across the front page. A headline proclaiming: "The Boy Who Kissed!" sat atop an image of a gorgeous looking brunette leaning in and planting a soft kiss to the lips of Harry Potter. A Harry Potter who was clearly enjoying the experience.
Who is that bitch?!
She leaned in, her eyes narrowing in fury as she tried to identify who was kissing Harry. As she read the caption below the photo, her eyes widened in disbelief.
Granger? The lawyer? That mousy little cow?
The woman in the photo was a far cry from the strait-laced academic she'd seen photographed with Harry when they met with Kingsley a few weeks ago. Ginny grimaced. Harry was clearly enamoured with this particular version of Granger, and she knew with certainty that there was now a serious rival for his affections in the game.
She turned to the society pages and found herself bombarded with images of the "happy couple." Holding hands, sharing gentle caresses and more soft kisses; all of these were concerning but what really worried her was the way they were looking at each other. She could understand why Granger would look besotted with Harry, but it was clear from the photos that Harry was equally besotted with Granger.
Damn it! Harry is supposed to be mine!
She needed to put a stop to this; to nip it in the bud before it was too late. She glanced at the photos again.
It may already be too late. I need a plan.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Hermione slowly opened her eyes as she took a few moments to orientate herself as she moved from sleep to wakefulness. She started to splay her arms out to stretch, but immediately found her progress hindered by the presence of a warm, firm barrier.
A warm, firm barrier that suddenly moved and pulled her in tight. In seconds, Hermione realised where she was and – more importantly – who she was with.
Harry!
'Good morning, beautiful.' His voice was soft and gentle. Intimate.
Hearing these words brought her fully awake with the realisation that she was still curled up on the sofa next to Harry; that her head was on his chest and that they had fallen asleep in each other's arms. She had never done anything like this before and it was with a feeling of immense shyness that she tried to extract herself from the situation with as much dignity as she could muster. Her efforts were thwarted, however, when Harry simply tightened his grip on her with his right hand and started gently stroking her hair with his left.
'It's OK. It's only me,' he said, his voice slightly gravelly from just waking up. 'Relax. It's Sunday morning and neither of us have anywhere to be just yet.' As if sensing her nervousness, he leaned forward slightly so he could make eye contact and despite her initial feeling of discomfort, she met his gaze.
'I've never done this before, so I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do or how I'm supposed to behave,' he whispered with a smile, but his expression quickly changed. 'Are you ok? Is this ok?'
Seeing the concern in his eyes reminded her why she found herself falling for this man; why she trusted him so much despite not knowing him for very long. She also felt the rightness of their situation; felt a sense of belonging that she had never experienced before. Just by the way he held her, she instinctively knew that Harry cared deeply for her, that he was fiercely protective of her, and she found herself able to relax into his embrace.
'Yes. I'm ok, and this is ok,' she finally replied. 'And good morning to you too, handsome,' she added with a smile. 'I'm…sorry for moving away. I was just a little disorientated. I've never done this before either, so I have no idea what to do either.'
'In that case,' Harry replied, 'maybe we should just stay here for now until we figure things out together. I don't know about you, but I reckon I could stay here forever with you.'
She sucked in a sharp breath at his words. At his declaration. While she had admitted to Susan that she thought she might be in love with Harry, she had not honestly expected her feelings to be reciprocated. That Harry might feel the same way about her wasn't something she had dared to hope for.
They lay in companionable silence for a few minutes before Harry finally spoke again.
'If you don't mind me asking, are you OK after last night? You seemed rather upset. I know I was. I still am, to be honest.'
She twisted round so she could look directly into his eyes. His mesmerising green eyes. 'You're upset? Why are you upset?'
'Because of Ducos. I lay here most of the night thinking about him and his betrayal. He really hurt you and I could cheerfully hate him for the rest of my life because of that.'
'Don't waste your energy on him, Harry,' she replied. 'He's really not worth it.'
He seemed to consider her words for a few moments. 'Would you mind telling me about it? About the work that he stole from you? I'll understand if you don't want to, but I have to confess that I'm really curious. You're brilliant, Hermione; I'm genuinely interested in what your thesis was about.'
'Really?' she seemed incredulous at his request. 'You're really interested in a stolen university thesis about Law?'
'I'm interested in you, Hermione,' he replied softly. 'Everything about you. Every single aspect of you.' He glanced away for a few moments. 'If I'm honest, I'm also interested in extracting any and every type of revenge I can on the bastards,' he added with more than a hint of menace in his tone.
'Revenge? On the Ducos family? Don't think I haven't thought about it, Harry,' she replied. 'But they are extremely rich and powerful and there's no way someone like me can lay a glove on them.'
'Someone like us, Hermione,' he corrected. 'You may not have noticed, but I have some influence in the magical world too,' he added with a shy grin.
'In Britain,' she replied, flatly.
He shrugged. 'That might be enough. It might have to be. So, would you mind explaining?'
She felt a twinge of uncertainty at his request. The last time she shared information on this subject she had been betrayed in the most callous and cynical manner.
But this is Harry. He's not doing this for the information. He's doing it because he cares about me!
She leaned into his chest so that she would not have to look at him as she spoke.
'Have you ever heard about the Code Napoleon?' she asked.
He seemed to consider her words. 'I've heard of Napoleon, of course, but not this code. Is this a military thing?'
She smiled into his chest. 'No, nothing like that. I'm still impressed you've actually heard about Napoleon, though. Most magicals have no interest in mundane history.'
'I was brought up in the normal world for eleven years, Hermione. In many ways I prefer it.'
She nodded at the gentle reminder as to his origins. 'Well; I wrote my thesis on the Code Napoleon. As controversial a figure as he was, and for all his military achievements, his true legacy is the legal code he introduced while in power. Before Napoleon, the law in France – indeed in most states - was feudal; the Code Napoleon essentially did away with all of that and brought in a standard set of laws and took law-making away from local, often corrupt, judges and put it in the hands of the legislative. It's based on Roman law, the Corpus Juris Civilis. The Code was so successful that its style has been adopted by the majority of nation states. The European Union's legal system is based on it.'
'OK. That much I can just about understand,' Harry replied slowly. 'So, your thesis was on non-magical law?' ha asked, sounding surprised.
'No; my thesis was on how the Code Napoleon was so influential that it was also adopted by magical society. It was even adopted in magical Britain even though the non-magical legal system in England is based on English Common Law. I used Britain – well England in particular - as my case study because while the non-magical world didn't adopt the Code Napoleon, the magical government did. You've seen that work in the Wizengamot.'
'And this was important because?'
'Two reasons. One is that it is one of the few examples of where magical society has recognised a non-magical solution is superior.'
'And?'
'And two; any aspiring magical lawyer who has a good grasp of the Code Napoleon has a distinct advantage over their peers. My thesis recognised that; assessed the implications and proposed an overhaul of the way we teach and implement magical law.'
'And Ducos stole this? It was that important?'
'He stole it and published it under his own name. It's now considered the seminal work on Magical Law throughout Europe. Gabriel Ducos is considered one of the finest contemporary legal minds and now has huge influence on the magical legal community.'
'All because he stole your paper,' Harry whispered.
She nodded her head into his chest. 'All because he stole my paper. He's being feted in legal circles across the continent and I'm running a trust for House Elves,' she added bitterly.
Harry contained his anger and squeezed her closer to his chest. 'What you are doing is important, Hermione. You are making a real difference to those elves and if we're successful in the Wizengamot you will have demonstrably made the world a better place. My Godfather once told me that all a person can do with their life is to try and leave the world better than they found it. You're doing that. Ducos will be found out one day. I have every faith in that.'
'You don't know that.' she replied.
He shrugged. 'Just a feeling I have. And even if I'm wrong, that should have no bearing on what you are currently doing. Ducos may be receiving the plaudits, but he has no honour.'
'That doesn't seem to bother him. Dishonesty and dishonour have made him successful.'
Harry paused for a moment as he closed his eyes and tried to recollect something. Finally, he spoke softly, his lips barely moving as he "read" from an internal monitor. 'The only guide to a man is his conscience; the only shield to his memory is the rectitude and sincerity of his actions. It is very imprudent to walk through life without this shield, because we are so often mocked by the failure of our hopes and the upsetting of our calculations; but with this shield, however the fates may play, we march always in the ranks of honour.'
Hermione turned to look at him, surprised by his words. 'Churchill? When did you read that?'
Harry nodded. 'Churchill. I read it after the war in a book Dumbledore left to me. And Churchill was right. When you look back at the end of your life, will you want to look back on false success, or on always trying to do the right thing? Ducos may receive the plaudits today, but he knows he's living a lie. That must be horrible; always worrying if you're going to be found out one day. And when he looks back in years to come, he'll know it was all a lie. I know what life I prefer,' he added gently.
Hermione looked at him with wonder in her eyes. 'How is it you always seem to know the right thing to say,' she asked softly. 'You're absolutely right; I couldn't live a lie the way he has; it would eat away at me.'
'That's because you have a conscience. You're fundamentally a good person, Hermione Granger. It's why you are going to change the world.'
She lay her head against his chest once again, a warm feeling flowing through her at both his words and his touch. She thought back to her conversation with Susan the previous evening and now she had no doubts; I'm in love with Harry Potter!
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
I should have listened to Harry!
It was no consolation to Hermione that her boyfriend had been correct when he'd advised her to keep a low profile for a few days.
After a wonderful Sunday morning together, Harry had explained that he had to return to Hogwarts as he had a ton of marking to complete. She had to confess that she'd been disappointed at his need to leave, but also strangely turned-on by the fact that Professor Potter had to depart in order to fulfil his teaching obligations. She'd actually found herself wondering what he would look like in front of a class in his teaching robes, and it had taken more than a few minutes of heavy snogging before he was able to extract himself from her arms.
Before he'd departed, he'd advised her to keep her head down as their first official date was sure to attract a lot of media attention. He'd sounded very apologetic as he'd said this, and she'd also detected a hint of real sadness in his tone. Despite this, she'd reassured him that she'd be fine and had given him a final, lingering kiss before he apparated out.
Not long after he'd departed, she'd noticed some people gathering outside of the S.P.E.W. office and had quickly realised that they were members of the press. She'd initially been outraged at their presence but had quickly reconciled herself to them as she'd known this was a consequence of dating Harry Potter. She was also acutely aware that she was on her own; Harry had returned to Hogwarts and she wouldn't get to see him again until Friday, so she'd decided to follow his advice and remain in her small flat for the time being.
By the following day she was going stir crazy. It was at that point that she'd determined to carry on as normal. She'd been out in public before with Harry, first in Diagon Alley, then at the Ministry, and finally at Kingsley's function. While the media and some members of the public had been a pain, she found to her surprise that they were not too obtrusive and that the attention wasn't anything she couldn't handle.
Or so she thought.
Now, as she tried to press her way up Diagon Alley, she belatedly realised that the reason the media and public had not seemed particularly obtrusive was because Harry had been with her, and they were clearly intimidated by "the man who won." It was obvious that they had no such scruples when dealing with an impoverished, unknown lawyer, and the masses had descended on her moments after she set foot outside of the S.P.E.W. office.
She tried to maintain her composure as she pushed her way through the throng of people in front of her in her attempt to reach the Magic Bean Café. At first, people had simply stared and pointed at her, but the further up the magical thoroughfare she progressed, the more crowded and oppressive her environment became. With people now jostling her and members of the wizarding press shouting inane questions at her, she now actually began to fear for her safety. She'd only been subject to the attention for a few minutes and already she felt as if she could quite happily murder every single person who seemed to be going out of their way to get in her way.
She could also feel the beginnings of a panic attack as cameras were thrust in her face and people shouted her name. She was surrounded by people – mainly the press – but with some ordinary members of the public too.
Miss Granger, how does it feel to be the girlfriend of Harry Potter?
Miss Granger? Are you sleeping with the man who won? Would you be willing to give an interview?
Who does that French mudblood think she is, dating Harry Potter!
Miss Granger?
Miss Granger?
Miss Granger?
She was struggling to breathe – everywhere she turned, a camera was in her way, and she felt as if walls were closing in around her. She was feeling as if she was about to pass out when she heard a firm voice.
'HERMIONE! HERMIONE GRANGER! Out of the way you bloody arseholes, MOVE! MOVE BEFORE I START ARRESTING PEOPLE! GET OUT OF MY WAY!
She turned towards what was clearly a voice of authority and was relieved to see the familiar black robes with red trim that signified that the man pushing his way through the crowd towards her was an Auror. Finally, he reached her and placed his left hand on her shoulder, before using his right forearm to smash across the press pack in front of them, clearing a path that he pulled them both through.
'Sorry about this,' he said in a conversational tone as he continued to flail his arm to widen the gap in front of them. 'It's just as well I was visiting George today. Merlin knows how this would have turned out if I wasn't,' he added.
For once, she found herself at a complete loss for words, but she still had the presence of mind to allow the tall, red-haired auror to lead her out of the media throng towards, what she presumed, was a place of safety.
She was right. After a few moments and a final shove from the auror, she found herself at the front door of a shop she had passed many times but had never entered.
Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
As she was led through the door of the shop, she realised who had just saved her from the rabble as she watched him lock the door behind them, place his head against it, and let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he turned to face her, but she cut him off before he could speak.
'You're Ron Weasley, aren't you?'
He smiled at her question. 'Harry said you were quick. Yeah, I'm Ron. Nice to finally meet you, although the circumstances could have been better,' he added as he offered her his hand.
She returned the smile and took his hand, shaking it vigorously. 'Thank you, Mr Weasley. I was close to passing out there. I had no idea things would be so bad. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't helped.'
'Call me Ron, please. I suspect we will be seeing a lot of each other in future. And you're welcome. I was just in visiting my brother George when I saw the commotion. It didn't take me long to work out what was going on and Harry would flay me alive if I let anything happen to you.'
As if magically summoned by name, a second redhead appeared from a door at the back of the shop carrying a mug of tea. She immediately noticed that he had only one ear but decided not to draw attention to it or speculate on the cause. Instead, she gratefully accepted the tea and took a sip. She raised an eyebrow at the taste as there was clearly more than just tea in the mug.
'I figured you might need a little tonic after your experience – just a wee bit of Ogden's finest to help it down,' he explained as he led her towards a nearby chair, one she was grateful to make use of. He waited until she was comfortably seated before continuing. 'I'm George, by the way. George Weasley. You can relax; we're both friends of Harry's and I've cleared the shop and locked it down for now until we decide what to do. You're perfectly safe.'
'Thank you,' she murmured, before taking another sip. 'Harry has spoken about you both,' she added. 'It's clear how highly he regards you and it's really nice to finally meet you.'
'Speaking of the boy wonder,' replied George, 'he's going to be mighty pissed off when he hears about this. He's warned the Prophet before about getting too close. He'll go through them like fiendfyre for this.'
'I'm not Harry, though, am I?' she asked quietly. 'I'm just plain old Hermione Granger. I don't think any rules Harry has in place with the press would apply to me.'
Ron crouched down next to her. 'Hermione? It's OK if I call you Hermione?' he added carefully and smiled when she nodded. 'Harry has always been very clear in his dealings with the media. Any rule that applies to him applies to anyone he cares about. It's why my family don't get pestered all the time.'
'Does he really have that much influence?' she asked.
Ron nodded carefully. 'He hates the fame. He also hates the fact that he does have so much power and influence, so he very rarely uses it. But when people he cares about are affected, he flexes his political muscles. He's ruined people who have crossed him on this.'
She nodded her understanding, grateful for gaining another insight into the man she was falling in love with.
'They're not going away,' said George and she was drawn from her musings and turned to note that he was peering out of the window.
'Damn,' said Ron quietly. 'I'd hoped they'd bugger off once we got her inside.' He turned towards her. 'Have they been following you for a while?'
'They've been camped outside my door since yesterday lunchtime,' she replied. 'I didn't think much of it. I thought they'd get bored and leave me alone. I mean; I'm nobody.'
'Don't let Harry hear you say that,' Ron replied. 'He certainly doesn't think you're nobody.'
'He's spoken about me?'
'He's spoken about little else. He says you're brilliant; that you're going to change the world.'
She blushed at his words, though still delighted to hear them.
'Look, Hermione, Ron continued, 'you've probably realised that Harry is an extremely private person. He doesn't make friends easily and even though he doesn't think Neville or I have noticed, we know he hasn't seriously dated anyone either. Until you, that is. So, you must be pretty damn special for Harry to fall for you the way he has, so it's clear that you are not a nobody.'
'I am to the press.'
Ron sighed. 'The fact that you mean so much to Harry means you are "someone" in this country. He's the most famous person in our world and you'll be famous too merely by association. While this is a bit extreme, if you are going to be with Harry, the press will be interested in you.'
She glanced down to the mug in her hands. 'He's worth it,' she said softly, and she did not see the warm smiles that appeared on the faces of both Weasley brothers.
'He is,' replied George, 'but that doesn't help us right now. Do you have anywhere you can go for a few days until this dies down a bit? Any family?'
She shook her head. 'My family are all in France and I'm not leaving Britain over this,' she replied.
Ron grimaced at her response. 'Fair enough. Looks like we're going to have to call Harry.'
She looked up sharply at his words. 'Why? Why do we need to call Harry?'
'Because we need to find somewhere safe for you to hole up for a few days. He'll have some options for us.' He fished into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a small mirror. He held it in front of his face.'
'Harry Potter!'
Hermione found herself wondering if Ron Weasley had taken leave of his senses when she was suddenly shaken by the sound of an oh-so-familiar voice.
'This had better be important, Ron! I've a class full of third years in front of me right now!'
Harry? Harry? How was this possible?! She found herself standing and moving towards the sound of his voice. She could see Ron wince at his words.
'Sorry, mate – I forgot you'd have a class at this time. It is important, though. We have a bit of a situation with Hermione.'
'Hemione? Is she OK? Is she-' and it warmed her heart to hear the genuine concern in his voice.
'She's fine,' Ron cut him off. 'She's right here with me in Wheezes. She just had a run-in with the press and the punters in the Alley. A lot of press and punters,' he added as he turned towards her and held up the mirror. 'Here; you can see for yourself.'
She was literally dumbstruck as she saw the concerned face of Harry Potter in the mirror Ron was holding. She'd never even heard of a magical communication device like this. She found herself giving him sheepish wave.
'Hi, Harry. I'm OK – just a bit shaken from all the attention. Ron got me to safety and George is looking after me.' She could see the relief flood his face at her words before Ron turned the mirror towards himself once more.
'The thing is, mate,' began the redhead, 'is that I don't think it's safe for her to go back to her own place. She needs somewhere to stay for a few days until the fuss dies down. I figured you'd be able to come up with somewhere?'
She heard Harry sigh deeply. 'Yeah; I can manage that. Put Hermione on again, will you?' She accepted the mirror Ron proffered and turned it to face him.
'I'm really sorry about this,' Harry began. 'I didn't realise things would be quite as bad.'
'It's not your fault, Harry. And you don't need to find me lodgings – I'll be fine at the flat.'
'I'm still sorry this has happened, and the flat isn't an option right now, at least not until I go after these arseholes. Are you OK where you are for now? Can you give me a couple of hours? I have another class after this, and I don't want the kids to miss a lesson.'
'I can wait, Harry. I'm being well looked after by Ron and George, and I wouldn't want anyone to miss a class either. I'll wait here until you get here,' she added and couldn't help but feel a little frisson of excitement at the thought of getting to see him four days earlier than expected.
'Great! I'll see you as soon as I can. Just don't believe a word Ron or George say about me,' he added with a smile.
'Looking forward to it,' she replied with a smile of her own before Harry disappeared. She handed the mirror back to Ron then looked over to George with a mischievous look on her face.
'So, George. Do you have any more of that Ogden's handy? Sharing stories about Harry should be accompanied with a little tipple should it not?'
The only response she received was a devilish grin before George disappeared into the back room.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Just over two hours later, Harry Potter appeared in the back room of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with a near silent crack. He was feeling both tired and irritable and his mood was not helped by the conversation he'd just endured with Minerva McGonagall. While being understanding of his situation, she was beginning to lose patience with his frequent absences.
He quickly checked himself to make sure he hadn't left any minor body parts behind in the Shrieking Shack before heading towards the murmur of conversation he could hear from the next room.
'…so, then Harry says to him – bold as you like – "There's no need to call me Sir, professor!" I thought Snape was going to have a stroke! I was nearly peeing myself!' exclaimed Ron with a loud guffaw.
Harry inwardly groaned as he realised that Ron and George must have been regaling Hermione with some of their dafter antics from school. 'Well, Snape was an utter git,' he shouted as he entered the room. 'He had that coming.'
Three heads turned to face him, but he only had eyes for one. He noticed that Hermione's face lit up at seeing him and she was quickly on her feet and moving towards him before wrapping herself around him. He returned the gesture, ignoring the two Weasleys for the moment.
'Are you OK' he asked into her ear.
'I am now. I've been well looked after and you're here now,' she replied. She stepped out of his embrace but did not let go of his hand as she looked directly at him. 'Don't blame yourself. You warned me repeatedly that this would happen, and I now understand better why we dated in the non-magical world first. Don't worry about me – I'll be fine. It's just the press.'
He shook his head. 'It's not just the press, Hermione. There are lunatics out there who will take exception to us dating. I can't make you, but I'd like you to stay somewhere a bit safer for a few days until we can put some protections up on your flat. We'll need to check your mail too. Can one of the S.P.E.W. elves do it? Kimmy, perhaps?'
She was about to refuse outright until she saw the concern in his eyes. 'Do you really think it's necessary?'
'Unfortunately, I do.' He licked his lips as he considered her. 'You could stay at Grimmauld Place for now? It's under the Fidelius and only a handful of people know the secret. They're all people I trust. I've plenty of spare bedrooms and you have access to the library. Kreacher would be delighted,' he added with a smile, as if that last fact would tip the balance.
She nodded her head in acceptance and leaned into his chest. He had her at "library."
'Fine, Harry. I'll get Kimmy to bring some essentials here for me, then I'll go to Grimmauld.' She felt him sag in relief.
'Thank you,' he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. 'I'm sorry I won't be able to join you, but McGonagall had a few gentle words with me about being out of the school too much recently.' He heard snorts from Ron and George.
'McGonagall's never had a few gentle words with anyone in her life,' George laughed. 'You mean she gave you a bollocking.'
Harry smiled even though Hermione stiffened at the words. 'Are you in trouble with the Headmistress?' she asked, concern in her voice.
'Nah; she was just venting her spleen. I only took the job on condition that I could leave the castle when I needed to. I did promise her that I wouldn't abuse the privilege, nor would I let it affect my job, and I don't believe I have done either. I told her it was an emergency.'
'And she was fine with that?'
'She was, once I explained that my girlfriend was trapped in Wheezes by a baying press pack,' he said with a smile, before suddenly stiffening. A sudden blush appeared on his face.
Damn! I never meant to call her my girlfriend like that! What if I'm moving too fast? What if she'd just rather be casual. What if sh:-
His train of thought was cut short as Hermione threw herself at him and pressed her mouth to his, her arms circling him tightly. He instinctively returned the gesture and soon the two of them were kissing passionately, their hands sliding all over each other's backs, running through each other's hair, lost in a furious embrace…
'AHEM,' interrupted the loudest stage whisper in history.
Harry pulled away from Hermione and turned to see Ron and George smiling broadly at them, eyebrows raise mockingly. He felt his cheeks redden even further.
'Just ignore them, Harry,' said Hermione, tartly. 'After all, a boyfriend should be able to kiss his girlfriend in public if he wants,' she added, turning to face him with a smile that took his breath away. He found himself grinning stupidly at her in return, a feeling of pure joy coursing through his system.
'C'mon, then, girlfriend; let's get you somewhere safe. Let's get you moved into my home.'
Ron and George looked at each other, both aware that they might as well have been invisible for all the notice that the happy couple were paying them. Then they both smiled at each other.
Finally, Harry might get the happiness and peace he deserves.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo