Return to Me by hermyfic

Rating: R
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 06/09/2004
Last Updated: 05/05/2005
Status: Paused

I'm so sorry, my dear readers, for not update for such a long time. I won't abandon this
fic but just pause it for now. Hopefully I can start a gain soon.




1. Chapter 1
------------

Return to Me

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Harry Potter world. I mean no harm by using the characters
in this fanfic.

A/N: Thanks to Portkey that accept me as an author here. Thanks to my beta Nakhash, who has done
a really good job in beta read. And thanks in advance for all of you who read and review!

Chapter 1

It was five years since she had been away from her home. It was five long years but, to her, it
felt like it was only yesterday that she had been saying goodbye to her friends at the Portkey
station. Now, she was packing her trunk and soon she would be back home and with her friends. She
could not wipe away the smile that was stuck on her face as her thoughts drifted to the events of
five years ago.

The war was still being fought at the end of their seventh year at Hogwarts, despite the hopes
that it would all be finished before the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, graduated.

The war raged on for six more months until, finally, it was finished with Harry Potter’s
throwing of a new spell developed by himself, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, at Lord
Voldemort, causing his evil soul to die under the power of love and peace, never to rise again.

Things were going rather well with the whole Wizarding world celebrating the downfall of Lord
Voldemort and the trio off to seek their futures.

Harry had decided to join in the Auror training like he had told Professor McGonagall in his
fifth year. With his success in fighting the Dark Lord, the Ministry of Magic was more than willing
to accept him to the training and hired him after he finished. Harry Potter was not willing to take
advantage of his celebrity to succeed in his beloved career. He tried his best to prove to the
world deserved his position.

Ron, another best friend of hers, had shown some interest in being an Auror as well, but he
ended up playing as a professional Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, saying he would be bored working
as an Auror without Death Eaters to chase after.

She, Hermione Granger, was the odd number in her group of friends. She had decided she wanted to
know more about the Wizarding world so she chose to travel to all the countries that had Wizarding
communities.

When she declared her plans, Ron had teased mercilessly that she had found no more books to read
in England and that was why she wanted to go seeking other countries’ libraries.

They had had a good time before she left. They drank and talked about past times and future
plans. During the Leaving Party, Harry had been mostly silent, which worried Hermione very much.
She knew he had a hard time living his life outside Hogwarts, much less being separated from Ron
and her, but she could not allow his attachment to continue any longer. He needed to move on with
his life. He must move on. If she allowed him to cling to her like she had when they were still at
school, Harry would never find himself a place in the Wizarding world. It was not that he was
incapable, but rather that he would be forced to live his life in the past and would not have any
future. So, she left him to make his own way though she promised herself she would do whatever was
in her power to make his life better. But first, he had to learn to fight his own demons.

In five years of traveling, Hermione learned a lot about the Wizarding world and the differences
between one community and another. She had learned, not from books like Ron had teased her, but
from people in the living world. Now, it was time to go back home. She felt an odd tightening in
her chest. ‘*How are they doing now? Will things have changed much after five years?’ s*he
kept asking herself nervously, as she packed.

In truth, they had exchanged letters over the past five years, but they were few and far between
because she often changed her location and owls weren’t always able to find her. So, the latest
information she had on her friends was limited, especially regarding Harry. He had only sent her a
piece of parchment wishing her a Happy Birthday every September 19th during the five
years. She had tried to owl him a few times but he never replied. At first she had thought he was
angry with her for leaving him alone, but he kept sending her the birthday wishes even though the
notes were short. It was enough to make her feel a little better and at the same time just enough
to make her feel guilty.

Ginny or the ‘Daily Prophet’ brought her most of the information she had concerning Harry. The
only time she had heard directly from him was before his wedding day. Much to her surprise, he had
called her on the telephone at a local hotel in Africa. She was so excited that she forgot to ask
him how he knew she was there. He didn’t speak much on the phone, just saying he wished she could
be at his wedding, but of course, she could not. She was busy studying an old tribe and had made an
appointment with the local Wizarding research organization to go the next day and observe their
living conditions. She wished him the best of luck and happiness in his life. He thanked her and
dropped the phone. That night, Hermione found herself unable to sleep and felt disappointed without
reason, though she didn’t try to seek it out. She let it slip by in the amount of time she spent in
her researching and studying.

*‘Will things have changed much?’ s*he repeated her question again. ‘*Yes, it would be
different, you stupid girl,’* her brain said crossly to her, but she retorted back, ‘*I’m not
a stupid girl! I’m 23 years old now, and I know that things will be different, but you don’t know
how nervous I am, you idiot!’*

Hermione argued with her brain as she finished packing her clothes and books. She turned to the
drawer on her writing desk and pulled out a massive photo album setting it down on her bed. She
turned to the first page; there it was, the photo of her, Harry and Ron when they were in first
year. Harry and Ron were standing close to each other while she was standing behind at Harry’s left
side. Well, they were not very close back then. The second page was she and Harry sitting under a
tree by the lake as Ron was sleeping, a Transfigurations book under his head.

Hermione turned page after page, looking at the photos and smiling, sometimes laughing, sometime
crying as the memories of their adventures at Hogwarts floated in her mind.

She looked at a white page with gold embossed letters, which read: ‘*After Hogwarts’,*
separating the rest of the photos from the first section.

The first photo, of the members of The Order of the Phoenix before the final battle, included
Snape. Hermione scanned the photo in amusement; most of them were still alive. Harry had told her
about the photo Moody showed him at Grimmauld Place, but it was opposite to the one she had, as
many of those members had died in the battle.

The second photo was of the celebration at Hogwarts after the victory. The third was Ron and
Luna’s wedding photo they sent her a year after her departure. The couple was smiling and waving at
her frantically. Harry and Ginny were their best man and bridesmaid. Hermione smiled; finally Ron
had found the right person for his life and settled down happily after dating many witches. He had
even tried once with her, while they were at Hogwarts, but things just didn’t work out what with
the two of them tearing each others heads off once or twice a day; not a big surprise actually.

Another page was Ginny and Draco’s wedding, a strange and unexpected couple that shocked
Wizarding society. When Draco had turned his back on his father and joined the fight for good, he
and Ginny started dating. They had struggled to get the approval of Ginny’s parents and a certain
over-protective brother to agree with them, and they were now a happy couple. Hermione had nothing
to add but to bless them from afar.

A few pages more and there was Ron and Luna with their first child and Draco with a very
pregnant Ginny. And there, the two last photos were Harry and Cho Chang’s wedding. Hermione smiled
weakly at the photo. She had heard about them from the ‘Daily Prophet’ and from Ginny. The two
started dating after Harry began his work at the Ministry of Magic. Coincidently, Cho was also
working there as a secretary for the new Minister. So things progressed as Cho tried very hard to
catch Harry’s attention by praising his work and showing up every now and then in the Auror’s
department, that was what Hermione had heard from Ginny. However, Hermione didn’t care if Cho
seduced Harry or Harry seduced Cho, it was his happiness that she cared about. In the photo, Cho
was smiling happily but Harry was wearing his usual serous expression. Hermione always shook her
head whenever she looked at the photo; Harry was still the same, he still couldn’t bring himself to
enjoy the most important event in his life. She hoped Cho was teaching him.

The last photo was of Harry and Cho’s newborn child. From the look in Harry’s eyes, she knew he
loved his daughter dearly; the glints of adoration and happiness were shining in them. Hermione was
happy for him; he deserved the nice little family he had always yearned for.

She closed the album and wiped a few drops of tears from her eyes. ‘*Well, things might
change, but at least it changes for the best and whatever had happened, their friendship would
always be there,’* thought Hermione, as she put the album in her trunk and closed it.

She stood up, straightened her clothes, and smiling, she told herself she was ready to make the
journey home.

***



2. Chapter 2
------------

Return to Me

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Harry Potter world. I mean no harm by using the characters
in this fanfic.

A/N: Thanks to Portkey that accept me as an author here. Thanks to my beta Nakhash, who has done
a really good job in beta read. And thanks in advance for all of you who read and review!

**Chapter 2**

Hermione had decided to go to the Burrow first instead of her parents’ house, as they were
touring Australia for their

25th anniversary. So, Hermione found herself standing in front of the gate leading to the
Burrow, her trunks were shrunk and rested inside her pocket. She took a deep breath before pushing
the gate open and passed through. Walking in the garden made her remember the summer before the
Quidditch World Cup. She, Harry and the Weasleys had had dinner in the garden. It had really been a
wonderful time, watching Crookshanks chasing the Gnomes while the family ate the delicious dinner
that Molly had prepared.

Lost in thought, Hermione found herself standing in front of the door to the house. She could
feel her shoulders shaking slightly. ‘*Do you think Mrs. Weasley or the whole Weasley family is
going to bite your head off, Hermione?’* she chided herself, before raising her trembling hand
to knock at the door.

Hermione heard the sound of footsteps walking brashly toward the door as Mrs. Weasley’s voice
echoed, “Why, Arthur, you are early today, did you forget your key, dear?”

The door swung open, Mrs. Weasley stood still, gaping at Hermione in disbelief, her hand holding
on to the doorknob. Suddenly she squealed delightedly, “Hermione! You are back?”

Hermione smiled and nodded, “Yes, I’m back,” she assured her. Mrs. Weasley hugged her tightly as
tears streamed from her eyes. Hermione hugged her back feeling so warm and secure.

“I can’t believe it. It’s been such a long time ago since I last saw you,” she said, drying her
eyes and holding Hermione by the arms. “Let me see you, dear. Ah, you’re too thin, Hermione. You
must have worked too hard, didn’t you?” she asked frowning.

Hermione laughed softly and replied, “No, I work as I used to work here. It’s just that the food
wasn’t always to my liking.”

Mrs. Weasley beamed, “You have to stay here a few days, at least a week, all right? I will make
you all your favorite foods.”

“I would love too. My parents are not at home so I had hoped to stay here a week or so until
they are back,” said Hermione.

“That’s wonderful, dear!” Mrs. Weasley said brightly. The two witches went into the house
together.

Hermione settled herself down into a comfortable armchair in the living room while Mrs. Weasley
was busy making tea in the kitchen. The elder witch then brought a tray with some tea and biscuits
for Hermione.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said as she took a cup of tea and sipped gratefully.

Mrs. Weasley was unable to stop herself from smiling. “Will you stay by yourself a few minutes,
Hermione? I’m going to floo Arthur, Percy, Bill, Ron - oh gods! I’m going to let all of them know
you’re here right this minute!” she finished excitedly, and twirled herself back to the kitchen
without waiting for Hermione to reply. Hermione smiled at her excitement. She sat still sipping her
tea and observed the house.

It was still the same old house but there wasn’t the noisiness that accompanied the house
whenever she had stayed here before. It was quiet except for the sound of the Ghoul living in the
attic and Mrs. Weasley excitedly talking to whomever she had flooed. Hermione couldn’t hear
clearly, but it sounded like Mr. Weasley because Mrs. Weasley was saying something like, “don’t go
near that Muggle and Apparate right back.” Hermione didn’t have a chance to listen to Mrs. Weasley
anymore as the front door swung open revealing a tearful Ginny Weasley – no – Malfoy, standing in
the door way. Like a flash the two witches were already crushing one another in a tight
embrace.

Hermione drew back first as she felt a bulge pressing on her stomach. She looked at Ginny
questioningly, then burst out, “Oh, Ginny! Are you- are you...”

Ginny smiled and nodded, “Yes, I’m expecting again.” She knew what Hermione wanted to ask and
answered it right away.

“Wow!” was all Hermione could say.

Ginny dragged Hermione to the table and sat them both down on the chairs opposite each other.
Eagerly, she asked Hermione, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“I was quite nervous about returning and didn’t think to inform you first,” said Hermione.
“Besides, I thought I would be going to my parents for a few days before coming here. They called
me the night before I left to tell me they were leaving on a tour of Australia so I changed my
plans and came here, instead.”

“So what are your plans?” asked Ginny.

Hermione sighed. She wrapped her fingers around her teacup and replied, “I don’t know for sure
yet, Ginny. Maybe I could stay here a for a week or so until my parents come back, or I could look
for a rental in Diagon Alley or somewhere I could work in peace.”

Ginny frowned and inquired quizzically, “What do you mean by ‘work in peace?’”

Hermione laughed at the look on Ginny face. “What are you thinking, Ginny? I’m not going to bury
myself in the ground or anything like that. I just want to write about my experiences during the
last five years and publish the book for the benefit of other researchers, that’s all.” Hermione
sipped her tea after finishing her tirade.

Ginny was staring at Hermione strangely, as if she had grown a second head, but before she could
say anything, Mrs. Weasley appeared at the kitchen door and said to Ginny critically, “Ginny, there
you are. Draco said you didn’t even wait for him and Apparated here. You do know it’s dangerous for
a pregnant woman to Apparate alone?” Then she turned to Hermione, ignoring the abashed Ginny, and
said softly, “Hermione dear, Arthur and the others will be here in an hour. You might like to take
some time and freshen up before dinner, dear, how does that sound?”

“That sounds lovely, Mrs. Weasley,” answered Hermione.

Ginny’s face lit up, “You can use my room, Hermione. Come on, I want to talk to you.” She stood
up pulling Hermione by the arm and rushing to the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley bellowed, “Be careful Ginny! You are pregnant remember!” But Ginny ignored her
telling Hermione, “She’s always like that.”

“But I think she is right. You should be more careful,” said Hermione.

Ginny laughed mistily and waved her hand at Hermione as the two of them reached her room on the
third landing. “This is not my first child, you know, Hermione,” she said, sitting down on the bed.
Hermione nodded her head accepting the other woman was right, well, who was she to know? She didn’t
even have a child herself. This thought made her heart ached with loneliness. Ginny broke the
silence, “Hermione, don’t you think of settling down and having your own family?” asked Ginny
seriously.

Hermione pulled her shrunken trunk from her pocket and waved her wand over it, restoring it to
normal size, before she answered Ginny absentmindedly. “I don’t know, besides I think I’m still too
young.”

“Too young!” the red head squeaked in disbelief. Hermione, arched one eyebrow as if to say,
‘what’s wrong with the idea?’ Ginny walked up to stand in front of Hermione and put both her hands
on her bulging stomach, defiantly. She said, “Look at me, Hermione. I’m younger than you. Look at
Ron, Luna, Harry, are you saying we were stupid to get married this young?”

“No, of course not,” said Hermione, feeling uneasy at her friend’s outburst, “I’m just- eh- you…
no one asked me to marry and I have a lot of work to do.”

Ginny took a deep breath and sat down again on the bed facing Hermione. “If that’s the problem,
why don’t you date?” She held her hand up stopping Hermione from protesting, “And don’t tell me no
one has asked you out in the last five years, Hermione.”

She was saved from answering by the sound of footsteps coming to the door. She smiled and
grabbed her bathrobe. “I think they have arrived. I’d better take my bath now, if you will excuse
me.”

“Fine by me, Hermione Granger. I’ll let you go, but next time, no excuses.” Ginny turned to the
door. Hermione felt the urge to cluck her tongue at Ginny but refrained, thinking it was too
childish for both of them now.

Filling the tub with hot water, she let her muscles relax. It had been a long journey back.
After fifteen minutes, Hermione heard more footsteps and more noise coming from downstairs. She
hurriedly finished her bath and came out of the bathroom after drying herself the Muggle way with a
soft white towel. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with purple letters, which
read, ‘*I like Rock ‘n’ Roll!’* She used a drying spell to dry her hair and pulled it into an
upswept ponytail. Looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if they would remember her before
making her way below.

Back down in the living room, a fluffy, yellow ball of Crookshanks greeted her by nuzzling her
leg. She brought him to her chest and hugged him tightly.

“Hello boy, how are you doing?” asked Hermione. Crookshanks made a mewing sound as if to answer
her question and licked her on the nose. Hermione chuckled, “I missed you too.” She carried him to
the kitchen where everyone was sitting around a scrubbed wooden table. Mr. Weasley was sitting near
the fireplace, next to him at the left were Bill and his wife Fleur and to the right was Penelope,
Percy’s wife, but he was no where to be seen. Luna was chatting animatedly with Fleur and Penelope
while her husband, Ron, was arguing with the twins and Draco. Charlie was absent, of course he
would be, she had just met up with him in Romania a few months ago still fascinated with
dragons.

Hermione took a few steps more and clearing her throat to announce her presence. Their heads
snapped back to see her. Ron looked as if was going to jump at her, but decided to retain some
dignity and walked up to her instead. He had matured a lot, Hermione thought. They hugged each
other tightly then Hermione greeted everyone with a hug and a kiss. She settled down in a chair
between Ron and Fred. Everyone started pouring questions on her until Mrs. Weasley came around with
the cutlery and Ginny brought butterbeers along with the food. Parents called out to their children
and they started eating dinner happily. Mrs. Weasley kept complaining about Percy working too hard
and being unable to join in a rare occasion of family reunion in honor of Hermione.

They talked on various topics but no one seemed to want to talk about Harry at all. She had
wondered why Harry and Cho were not present, but she thought maybe Mrs. Weasley forgot to call them
or that they were busy. However, when she started pointedly asking questions about Harry and Cho,
everyone returned the talk to weather, or asked if she would like to visit their home, or if she
thought their children looked most like them or their spouses. Finally Hermione could take it no
longer. She dragged Ginny out of the house into the garden.

“Tell me what’s happened with Harry?” asked Hermione, a bit harshly, but she didn’t care. She
had had enough of all of them ignoring her questions. Ginny sighed and took a seat on a stone bench
under a tree, looking straight into the blackness. Hermione examined the younger witch closely. She
looked sad; her red hair a bit longer now, glistered under the moonlight. Suddenly Hermione was
struck with the realization that over the last five years Ginny had grown up a lot. She was a
mother of two children, well not yet, but soon. She seemed to be weighing her thoughts carefully
before speaking. Hermione felt ashamed for being harsh with her earlier. She sat beside Ginny and
covered Ginny’s hands with her own and asked again softly, “Has anything bad happened to
Harry?”

Ginny tore her gaze from the black space and looked Hermione in the eyes, her own damp with
small drops of tears. She spoke slowly, “You haven’t read ‘The Daily Prophet’ for the last three
months, have you?”

Hermione shock her head, “No, it wasn’t delivered in Russia.”

Ginny laughed mirthlessly, “No wonder you don’t have a clue.”

“That is why I want you to tell me. Harry is my best friend, I want to know if he’s doing all
right.” Hermione was becoming frustrated now that she sensed something was really wrong with
Harry.

“You know Harry and Cho got married three years ago, right?”

Hermione nodded again, she said somewhat dumbly, “You told me and-” She didn’t want to tell
Ginny that Harry had phoned her the night before his wedding, “what’s happened now?”

Ginny was staring at Hermione suspiciously, but knowing Hermione; she knew not to push the
subject any further. So she answered instead, “Their married life was not a happy one. After Cho
gave birth to Agnes everything seemed to become even worse. Cho was seeing someone else and Harry
always stuck with his work and Agnes. This only made Cho even angrier.” Ginny took a deep breath
before she continued, “First I thought Cho was only trying to gain attention from Harry, but Merlin
knows what she was really up to. She completely turned her back on their marriage and walked away
from Harry to live with her new lover.”

Hermione felt a strange feeling rustling in her veins, *how can she do that to Harry? Doesn’t
she know how much Harry loves her?*

“The ‘Daily Prophet’ claimed that Cho ran away with a Rock Star because Harry Potter doesn’t
know how to please a woman.” Ginny shock her head, Hermione looked puzzled. “It’s part of the
reason, Hermione. You’ve been gone too long to know how Harry has changed. The ‘Daily Prophet’ had
only assumed from looking at their life, but I once witnessed the two of them quarrelling. Before
Cho ran away, I went to see Harry and I heard the two of them talking. Cho accused Harry of having
an affair with another woman and that was why he didn’t care about her. She said she had had enough
of him ignoring her and that now she would have someone who at least appreciated her beauty and
cared about her.”

“How could she said such a thing about Harry?” said Hermione, her anger flaring. “I don’t
believe Harry would do such thing.”

“I don’t believe that Harry would have an affair either,” answered Ginny, “but I wouldn’t dare
guarantee his feelings.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.

Ginny, though looking uncomfortable answered truthfully, “What I mean is whether Harry was in
love with Cho when they get married.” Hermione was about to say something but Ginny cut her down,
“Look, if you saw the way Harry treated Cho, you would think just as I do now, Hermione.”

“But why did he marry her if he wasn’t in love with her? And gods! They have a child together,”
said Hermione, barely believing what she had just heard. Things could change terribly in five
years.

“I don’t know. You should ask Harry if you want to know, but believe me, he won’t give you any
answers easily. Ron and I have tried to persuade him to tell us but he just ignores us completely.”
Ginny stood up, “I think we better go into the house now, Joey may be asleep already.”

Ginny walked back to the house but Hermione stood there a bit longer, wondering if she could
find rest in her sleep tonight, before following the younger witch inside.

@@@@

*Review please!*



3. Chapter 3
------------

Return to Me

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in Harry Potter world. I mean no harm by using the
characters in this fanfic.

**A/N:** Thanks to Portkey that accept me as an author here. Thanks to my beta Nakhash, who
has done a really good job in beta read.

Harry&Hermione4ever: Harry does have his kid with him. Izabel: You don’t understand why
Harry & Cho break up? Nor does Hermione, but she won’t find out until nearly the end *evil
grin*.

**Shawnpickett:** You are right. As stubborn as Harry do you think he will give in that
easily?

Thanks to all of you who read and review! You just make me want to write more and more!

Chapter 3

As predicted, Hermione could not find rest in her sleep nor even manage to fall asleep at all.
After everyone left she went to her room, changed, and now she was lying on her bed staring at the
ceiling. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable spot. Every time she closed her eyes,
Ginny’s sad face appeared before her and her thoughts drifted to Harry. ‘*How could he handle
such a terrible thing?’* Hermione thought bitterly.

The bed felt hard and lumpy despite its thick mattress. Hermione rose and started pacing the
room. ‘*I want to talk to him now. What should I do?’ s*he asked herself. ‘*You are not
going to invade his home at this time of night, are you?’* her voice of reason said mockingly.
‘*No, it’s too late for a visit now.’* She tried to find a reason to keep her mind from
wanting to Apparate straight to Harry’s house.

Hermione turned to a small window at the right side of the room. She could see the moon was
rising in the middle of the sky and was slowly moving itself to the west, which meant it was
already past midnight. Hermione took a long, deep sigh, then she turned swiftly to grab her cloak
and Apparated.

@@@

Hermione was standing in front of a house residing near the outskirts of London. The house was
medium-sized and old-fashioned with a wonderful garden in the front. It looked just like an
eighteenth century Muggle-style house. Hermione had never been there before. When she had left,
Harry was staying with Moody, and before that, he stayed at Grimmauld Place. After Sirius died,
Grimmauld Place had officially become Harry’s, but while he was still at Hogwarts, the Order of the
Phoenix had continued to use it as their headquarters until the downfall of the Dark Lord. At that
time the Order had released it back to Harry and he had moved in for a while.

The house was dark and quiet. There were wards protecting the house, preventing her from
Apparating inside. She draped her cloak around her more tightly as the cold, night wind blew
through the silent darkness. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and set to work breaking the
wards. They were the same ones she and Harry use to put on her parents’ house, doubled on
Dumbledore’s wards, to prevent Apparation. They were simple yet very effective. She walked along
the garden path and opened the front door using *“Alohomora”* spell. She then found herself in
the middle of a room. From the light of the small sconces hanging on the wall, she could see it was
the main hall of the house. There were two doors for both sides of the hall and a stone staircase
opposite to the main entrance.

Hermione was wondering which way to go when suddenly there was a pop and a little creature with
huge, green eyes and a long nose appeared before her. It was wearing an odd sharp hat and fluffy
socks, which she recognized as ones of her own handiwork from a long time ago. The creature was a
house-elf. Looking closer she realized it was Dobby. No other house-elf would wear clothes.
Hermione smiled happily and said, “Hello Dobby.”

The elf looked up at Hermione with confusion, then its eyes lit up and it jumped and squeaked
excitedly, “Oh Miss Hermione! Dobby is happy to see Miss Hermione!”

“I’m happy too, Dobby.” She took a step closer to the elf and asked, “Dobby, where is Harry? I
really miss him and want to meet him.”

Dobby stopped jumping and looked toward the stairs before meeting Hermione’s gaze. He answered
hesitantly, “Harry Potter is sleeping now. Can Miss Hermione come back tomorrow?”

Hermione looked closely at the house-elf. She had a feeling that Dobby was sad when talking
about Harry. This only made Hermione more worried. She thought for a moment, and then smiled and
said reassuringly, “I just want to see him. I won’t wake him up, Dobby. Please show me his
room.”

The house-elf stood still; its enormous eyes looked back to the staircase and then to Hermione’s
pleading eyes. After a sort pause, it inclined its head and said, “Alright, please Miss follows
Dobby.”

Hermione smiled and thanked Dobby. She followed him up the stairs and then turned to the right
side of the corridor where it led to an oak door with a huge golden doorknob. They stopped in front
of the door and Dobby looked up at Hermione. “Harry Potter is in his office, Miss Hermione,” said
the elf. “Dobby will leave Miss to deal with Harry Potter alone.” Dobby turned to leave but then
turned back to Hermione and said, “Harry Potter is not well but he will be happy to see Miss.”

Hermione smiled faintly as the house-elf vanished. She was feeling a bit nervous but tried to
collect herself. She pushed against the door and was surprised to find it was unlocked. She stole a
glance around the room before walking fully inside.

The sight of Harry Potter’s form lying on the desk greeted her. Even in sleep, his face wore a
frown and his eyes were scrunched tightly behind his glasses. Hermione felt tears start to form in
her eyes as she looked closely at him. He looked so vulnerable, so young. His black hair, as messy
as ever, was a bit longer, sticking up in the front and revealing his scar. Hermione walked up
slowly to him. Her hand carefully smoothed his hair and brushed softly along his cheek.
Unexpectedly, Harry’s hand caught hers; his eyes fluttered open.

They stared at each other for a moment; then Harry loosened his grip on Hermione’s wrist. He
asked, sounding somewhat dazed, “Are you real?”

Hermione let out a breath that she didn’t remember holding. She smiled at Harry and said, “I’m
real, Harry, I’m back.”

Before she even finished her sentence, Hermione was being crushed in a bone-breaking embrace.
She hugged him back with equal fervor. She could not control her tears any longer and she sobbed
into his chest, feeling all the loneliness and distress run out of her body.

It felt like an eternity before Harry pulled back. He looked embarrassed and shocked at the same
time. He mumbled, “Sorry”, and avoided her eyes. Hermione shook her head and brushed the last drops
of tears from her eyes.

“Harry, I missed you.” His head snapped back and he looked into her eyes. Hermione saw sadness
lingering in the emerald depths behind his round spectacles. Her heart ached as she reached out,
her hand touching his face lightly. She whispered again, “I missed you.” He leaned into her touch
and, without knowing how, he was sobbing into her shoulder. Hermione patted his back comfortingly.
‘*The past five years would have been very tough for him,’* thought Hermione.

Harry had cried himself to sleep, his head resting on Hermione’s lap. She looked at his face and
smiled sadly. He looked so peaceful when sleeping. Hermione vowed to herself that she would do
everything possible to give him the happiness he deserved. She kissed him on the forehead and soon
she too, drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

@@@

**Review please...**



4. Chapter 4
------------

Return to Me

**Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in Harry Potter World. JKR owns them.

**A/N:** A giant thank to my beta, Nakhash, she’s wonderful!

**Victoria Tonks:** I know that part is a bit ooc but like a bottle of wine that have been
shake too long when you let out the stopper, you know what happen. In this case, Harry is like a
bottle of wine :) and you see in this chapter he thought Hermione was a dream.

**Tabitoo:** *Evil grin*

Finally, many many thanks to you all, my dear readers and reviewers! Without you all I won’t
have the strength to continue.

@@@

Hermione shifted slightly as the sunlight filtered through the window and touched her face. She
blinked and then opened her eyes, startled by her surroundings. She felt a weight on her lap; she
looked down, seeing Harry’s sleeping form before her. It was his head that weighed down upon her.
She smiled softly and tried to move without waking him up, but as she started moving her legs, his
eyes fluttered open. He blinked rapidly and his hands searched for his glasses.

Hermione chuckled as she pulled a pair of glasses from the desk above her head and placed them
on Harry’s eyes. He focused on her; Hermione could see he was confused. Then the realization dawned
on him. He smiled at her and said, “It wasn’t a dream.”

It was merely a statement but Hermione nodded and said, “No, it’s not.”

Harry pulled himself up to sit next to her. He looked uneasy. Hermione cleared her throat,
breaking the awkward silence. “Erm... Harry, how are you?”

Harry seemed to relax a bit at her question; he smiled faintly at her and answered, “I’m fine.
How about you, ‘Mione?” As he asked, he stood up and stretched his muscles.

Hermione smiled fondly. “I’m fine too and I’m happy to be back home.” She was still sitting on
the floor; her legs straight out just like last night.

Harry looked around the room and blushed slightly, “I’m sorry Mione. I haven’t been a very good
host. You shouldn’t have had to see this mess.”

“Oh, really? But I’m used to such messes now that I’ve had two of the messiest boys in the world
as friends for the last twelve years,” Hermione snorted, amusement in her tone.

They both laughed. *‘It’s good to see him that happy again,’* thought Hermione.

“Do you want to have breakfast with me?” asked Harry.

Hermione nodded and then frowned as she tried to move her legs; they were so numb.

Harry looked puzzled for a moment before he realized what was wrong and hurriedly helped her to
her feet but her numb legs wouldn’t support her weight. If Harry hadn’t caught her in time she
would surely have hit the floor. Harry helped her to an armchair and sat her down. He kneeled in
front of her and started massaging her legs.

Hermione blushed deep red and tried to stop him. “Harry, it’s ok. Let me rest a little and

I’ll be all right.”

But Harry didn’t stop and said without looking at her, “It’s my fault that your legs became this
numb. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep on you last night.”

Her breath caught as his hand touched the hollow of her leg and her body tensed even as she
tried to relax. Harry seemed not to notice and she was grateful, otherwise they would find
themselves in another awkward situation. She mentally cursed herself for reacting in such a
shameful way to her best friend. After a while, her legs regained their feeling. She thanked Harry.
They both stood up, facing each other.

Harry offered, “Do you want to take a bath before breakfast?”

“Good idea,” Hermione responded, “but I have to go to the Burrow because all my things are there
and - oh!” Hermione squeaked, “I didn’t tell Mrs. Weasley that I was coming here last night. She’ll
be worried sick by now.” She turned to Harry, “Listen, you take your shower and prepare everything.
I’ll be back in time for breakfast, ok?”

Harry grinned and nodded mutely. She smiled and turned to leave but Harry grabbed her arm and
said, “I’m glad you’re back, Hermione.”

She smiled and made her way out of the room.

@@@

Once she was out of Harry’s house, Hermione Apparated directly to the Burrow where she found
Mrs. Weasley pacing the room and Mr. Weasley sitting calmly at the table with his hands folded
under his chin, watching his frustrated wife.

“Arthur, do something! This is Hermione, why aren’t you doing anything?” Hermione heard Mrs.
Weasley growl at Mr. Weasley.

She opened the door and revealed herself. Mrs. Weasley stopped pacing and raced up to her.

“Are you all right? Where have you been, dear?” she asked. “I was so worried when I didn’t find
you in your room this morning.”

“I’m fine,” said Hermione, smiling guiltily. “I’m sorry I worried you. I was just so anxious to
see Harry that I left without telling you. I wasn’t thinking; I’m so sorry, Mrs. Weasley.”

Mrs. Weasley let out a sigh of relief then pursed her lips; her brows knitted in thought, though
she didn’t say anything.

Hermione couldn’t tell what Mrs. Weasley was feeling, whether it was disapproval with her
behavior or the mention of Harry that was the cause of her distraction.

“Ah, I told you Molly, dear, Hermione is not a child she knows what she is doing and she is
back. Now, may I have my coffee?” said Mr. Weasley cheerfully. However, Hermione thought it was
forced rather than natural. Mrs. Weasley glared at her husband and stomped out of the living room.
He turned to Hermione and smiled, “How is Harry anyway?”

“Erm- he...” Hermione stammered. How could she possibly explain to Mr. Weasley that they had
fallen asleep on each other without even having a conversation?

As if sensing her unease, Mr. Weasley smiled and said, “I hope he is all right. I haven’t seen
him much lately.”

*‘How could this be possible? Weren’t the two of them working in the Ministry together?’*
Hermione thought to herself.

Before she could voice any of her thoughts, Mrs. Weasley returned with a tray of coffee and some
egg and bacon sandwiches. Hermione could tell by the look on her face that she was none too pleased
but didn’t know why. As she neared the table and put the tray down forcefully she spit out, “He is
not all right, Arthur. Not since he married that- that evil woman.”

She broke into tears while Arthur hurriedly hugged her and made her sit next to him. “There,
there Molly, everything will be fine,” he said, as he patted her back.

Molly sobbed into her husband’s shoulder and mumbled, “Poor Harry. He deserves a better
life.”

Hermione watched the couple, lost in her own thoughts. She needed to talk to Harry urgently.
Hermione made her excuses and went to her room. She took a bath and changed her outfit from the
evening before to a fresh pair of jeans and a loose blue shirt.

@@@

Within the hour, Hermione found herself in front of Harry’s house again. This time she didn’t
need to take the wards down as Harry had already reset them to recognize her. Dobby escorted her to
the living room where Harry was waiting. He too was dressed Muggle-style: a pair of shabby old
jeans and a short sleeved, white cotton t-shirt. Hermione smiled and took her seat opposite to
Harry’s.

“When I first came in I thought I would be greeted by an old gentleman dressed in formal robes
but here I got a slob instead,” she teased.

Harry grinned at her and answered back, “I thought you liked me better this way, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Hermione said, observing Harry. He looked far better than yesterday. His
face wore an expression of joy, though his brow still had the lines from being creased with worry
for too long. His green eyes had the hint of a twinkle, which reminded Hermione of the younger
Harry when he was happy or excited. His shoulders were broader and his form was no longer that of
the skinny boy with knobby knees she had known from school but the form of a man who had been
through hard physical training. Hermione looked up and their eyes locked; she realized he too had
been observing her. The knowledge caused her to blush slightly. She turned away, confused by her
own feelings.

Dobby reappeared bringing their breakfast then disappeared again without waiting for Hermione to
thank him. They ate and talked; mostly Harry asked her about her work and her studies. Hermione
told him all about her adventures, her colleges, and the different ways of life in the Wizarding
World. Harry listened to her carefully, Hermione noticed, unlike when they were at school and she
was trying to explain to him and Ron some interesting fact she had found in *“Hogwarts: A
History”.*

They finished their breakfast; Hermione was about to ask Harry the questions she had been
holding back when Harry held up his hand and shook his head. He said sadly, “Please, Hermione, I
know what you want to ask, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

“It’s not good for you to bury it in your heart, Harry,” said Hermione sympathetically. “It’s
bad enough that such a thing happened but to keep it locked in your mind is even worse.”

“How do you know I keep it locked in my mind?” Harry joked mirthlessly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Don’t play innocent with me. I know how you always take things upon
yourself.”

Harry turned his face away but not quickly enough for Hermione to miss seeing the sorrow that
suddenly appeared in the emerald pools behind his glasses.

Hermione reached out to cover his hand with hers. “Don’t worry, things will get better soon,”
she said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Take the time you need, just remember, if you want an
ear, I’ll be here for you.”

Harry looked back and met Hermione’s warm smile. “Thank you,” said Harry, with a little smile of
his own.

“No problem, you’re my best friend,” Hermione replied. “Where’s Agnes? Can I meet her?”

“Sure! She’s probably driving Dobby crazy by now,” Harry said brightly.

@@@

“She stays with Dobby most of the time,” Harry explained, as the two of them walked up to Agnes’
room, located at the left side of the stone staircase near Harry’s bedroom. “She likes to demand
things from Dobby and he, in turn, seems ecstatic to do everything she says. I don’t have much time
look after her,” he added, after a pause.

“Why don’t you move your office near her room?” asked Hermione. “It would make things
easier.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Hermione; I usually throw things when I’m stressed. I don’t
think Agnes would like that much,” said Harry thoughtfully.

“You do?” asked Hermione, both amazed and worried. “Are you telling me you’ve taken up that bad
habit now?”

“Oh Hermione, there’s nothing wrong with that, right? As long as I’m throwing things and not
people,” said Harry, chuckling softly. But Hermione didn’t seem to find any humor in his joke.

They stood in front of the nursery door and before even entering they heard the sound of
rustling and Dobby’s high-pitched voice. “Oh, Miss Agnes! Dobby is searching! Please don’t miss
cry!”

Harry opened the door and walked in. Agnes was crying at the top of her lungs; her curly black
hair was flying everywhere. Dobby was fussing over a trunk, searching for something. Harry
hurriedly went to the side of her bed. He picked her up and she quieted down.

Hermione observed the room first. It was smaller than Harry’s office, of course, but it was full
of baby playthings, both magical and Muggle. She then took a step closer to Agnes; the baby had
hazel eyes, just like Harry’s father, and curly black hair. She was clinging to her father’s neck
but soon started crying again.

Dobby squeaked, “Oh Miss! Dobby is sorry Miss. He can’t find her doll and makes her cry. He
should be punishing himself.” Then he hit himself on the head.

Hermione stopped him and said, “I don’t think she wants her doll, Dobby.” She turned to Harry,
“Let me see her.”

Harry handed his child to Hermione who held her tenderly, rocking back and forth. “What do you
feed her?” Hermione asked, without taking her eyes off the child in her arms.

Harry looked puzzled but Dobby squealed then vanished for a minute before coming back with a
bottle of milk. He handed it to Hermione who took it appreciatively and started feeding Agnes
humming softly to the child. The child closed her eyes and soon felt asleep still sucking her
bottle. Hermione didn’t let go of the child she held so closely but continued gazing down at the
sweet little face, smiling to herself, oblivious to the pair of eyes watching her with a mixture of
admiration and adoration.

@@@

When she was sure Agnes was asleep, she pulled the bottle out of her little mouth and put her
back to bed, careful not to wake her up again. She kissed the tiny forehead and turned to find
Harry looking at her strangely. She cocked an eyebrow at him questioningly, “Well? Don’t you kiss
your baby goodnight?”

“It’s not night, Hermione,” Harry protested.

“No it’s not, but she can sleep whenever she wants and, as her father, you should kiss her so
she’ll have good dreams,” said Hermione, in her best lecturing tone.

“Oh, well all right,” he said, then walked up to Agnes’ sleeping form and kissed her on the
forehead with a whispered, “Sweet dreams love.”

The two friends left the room, closing the door behind them. Harry looked at Hermione; she was
beaming. He said, “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re a mother already, Hermione.”

“I used to baby-sit for my neighbor during summers when they took a week or so on holiday and
now it proves to be useful, doesn’t it?” she said, smiling brightly.

“Yes, thank you, Hermione,” Harry replied.

“You’re welcome.” She paused, and then said seriously, “You know, Harry, raising a child means
not only feeding her and giving what she wants but also giving her what she needs.

That’s love. I know you love her, Harry,” Hermione quickly added, as she saw Harry’s eyes
burning brightly, “but do you know how to express your love to her? Do you know how to love
her?”

Harry stood quietly. His face wore the sad expression she saw the night before. Hermione stepped
closer to him and put both her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Don’t be
discouraged, Harry; no one is born with knowledge, just try to learn. I know you can do it, Harry.
I know it.”

He took a deep breath and said, “I’ll try.”

“As long as you do.” She smiled. “Do you want to show me the house?”

“Yes, I do.” A slight smile crossed his face and he offered his hand; she took it and they went
out to the garden. They walked side by side, quietly enjoying the gentle morning breeze and the
comfortable feelings they had for each other.



5. Chapter 5
------------



**Return to Me**

**Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in Harry Potter World. JKR owns them.

**A/N:** A giant thank to my beta, Nakhash, she's wonderful! Thanks to you all, dear
readers and reviewers!

**Wytil:** This is not a rewrite work. There might be some similar stories out there but
I've never read one :)

My first title for this story was Come Back to Me but before I posted it I saw there is one
story by that title so I changed it to Return to Me which has a similar meaning but God!
There's still have another one with the same title and it's too late for I've posted it
already :)

**MrsDanielRadcliffe:** You are so close… ;)

@@@

Hermione had spent a lovely day with Harry and Agnes. The two old friends reminisced about their
time at Hogwarts and played with the child. Agnes was such a lovely little girl, and smart for her
age. Hermione loved the way she babbled incoherently; the way she crawled and pulled herself up to
stand on her chubby legs. Her smile captured Hermione's heart. She even loved the way Agnes
pulled her bushy hair and yanked at her earlobes. She couldn't believe how much she loved
someone she had only known for one day. But it was true; she felt so close to Agnes that she could
understand what the girl wanted just by looking into her lovely hazel eyes or listening to her
unintelligible words. Hermione thought it was because she knew her father so well it made it
possible for her to get close to the girl in such a short time.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed afraid of playing with Agnes. The last time Agnes had tried to
crawl on him he had turned red and gingerly, but tenderly, pushed her off him and carried her to
her bed. Hermione had told him that Agnes just wanted to get to know her father and he should play
with her more often so he would understand her better. He agreed to try, saying he didn't want
Agnes to grow up thinking he was some heartless monster. Even though he sounded playful, Hermione
knew he was worried.

Harry might be a very good friend who would willingly give up his own pleasure for those he
cared about but he wasn't exposed to much love in the home where he grew up; if you could call
the indulgence of his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon toward Dudley love. To Harry it seemed they
spoiled their son rather than loved him. Harry had never felt the kind of love a child receives
from his parents. His mother and father had died when he was so young, he barely could remember the
feeling of them hugging him or receiving kisses from them. It was no wonder he didn't know how
to love his own child. Hermione decided to she would help him with that.

As night approached, Hermione sat looking down at Agnes's sleeping form. She had just fed
her a bottle of milk Dobby had brought her and the girl had fallen asleep, peacefully, on her lap.
She brushed back a stray black lock from the sleeping child's eyes; she stirred but didn't
wake up. Hermione's lips curled into a smile.

“She must be very tired today,” said Harry, watching Hermione and Agnes. “Dobby told me she
fought taking a nap this afternoon and only did so after driving him nearly mad.”

Hermione's smile broadened. She looked at Harry and said, “Yes, she played a lot today.
Babies are like that; they love to play and it's good for them.” Her smile then turned into a
Cheshire cat grin.

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What is it, Hermione?”

“Oh...it's just that it's time for daddy to put his little girl to bed,” answered
Hermione, smiling smugly.

“You can't be serious, Hermione,” said Harry, slightly panicked.

Hermione would have laughed aloud if not for fear of waking Agnes.

“I don't know how to tuck a baby in bed; besides, I might wake her up, Hermione,” Harry
tried to explain as quietly as he could.

Hermione chuckled softly. “Oh Harry, I only asked you to tuck your baby to sleep, is it that
hard?”

Harry mumbled something under his breath that sounded like Death Eaters and Voldemort.

Hermione inched closer to him carefully, so as not to wake Agnes. Her gaze bore into the depths
of his green eyes as she whispered, “Harry, you want to be a good father for Agnes, right? You need
to learn to do the little things.”

Harry sighed. “Alright, but you have to come with me. I'm not sure if I can manage or
not.”

“Yes, Daddy,” said Hermione, cheerfully ignoring Harry's glare.

She gracefully handed Agnes to Harry. He took her in his arms gingerly as Agnes stirred. They
walked to the nursery. Harry put Agnes to bed and covered her with a soft blanket. He lightly
kissed her on the top of her head, afraid to wake her. Hermione smiled to herself. He was still
awkwardly around her but soon he would become the best father, she knew it. She also kissed Agnes
goodnight, then the two of them retreated back to the living room.

They sat on a sofa next to each other in front of the fireplace, quietly drinking tea. Hermione
glanced at her watch and saw it was already 10 PM. Putting her cup down, she said with a little
smile, “I've got to go now. I don't want Mrs. Weasley to get worried again.”

Harry looked disappointed but asked, “Will you come tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she replied, then asked, “don't you have to work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, right!” said Harry, slapping his forehead, “but Agnes could use some company.”

“It's a good thing you realize that,” said Hermione sarcastically. “You don't want her
turning into a house-elf, do you?”

Harry grinned and shook his head. “No, but I guess you would seeing as you're so fond of
house-elves you set up that P.E.W thing.”

Hermione turned slightly red remembering her efforts to free the house-elves in her fourth year.
She spat, “It's S.P.E.W, and yes I like them and want them to be free. That doesn't mean I
want Agnes to be one.”

“Oh well, no need to get angry Little-Miss-Perfect,” said Harry, grinning as his eyes twinkled
back at her.

Hermione couldn't help smiling. Harry looked at her expectantly. She raised an eyebrow.

“So I guess I have no choice?”

Harry shrugged and shook his head.

“Ok, I will,” she said with a sigh; covering her face with her hands and bursting into a fit of
laughter. Soon, they were both giggling madly.

After a few minutes the laughter suddenly stopped and their eyes locked. They stared at each
other, motionless. Their faces were just inches from one another. Hermione could feel his warm
breath on her skin. She saw something in his eyes she had never seen before and couldn't quite
put into words. She only knew that her stomach had felt an odd jolt at the sight of it and she had
become strangely nervous.

Abruptly, Hermione tore her eyes from his and looked away. She could tell without bothering to
look in the mirror that her face was as red as Ron's hair, if not redder. She somehow felt
embarrassed. Without looking at him, she said in a small voice, “I should be going now.”

She heard Harry take a deep breath, then heard him answer, “Yes, you must be exhausted; besides
it's getting really late now. I'll see you out.”

Hermione wanted to tell him she wasn't tired; that she was happy to be with him and Agnes
this way, but she was too flustered to even look at him, so she kept her mouth shut and stared at
her feet as a few minutes of awkward silence passed. They stood up and walked out of the house
quietly. Hermione still couldn't look him in the eyes when she said good-bye and Apparated
away.

@@@

Hermione walked dazedly into the Burrow. There was a light in the living room; maybe Mrs.
Weasley was still waiting up for her. But, to her surprise, it was Ginny who was hunched over the
table sleeping, snoring soundly.

Hermione walked up to her friend. She squeezed her lightly on her shoulder, “Ginny… Ginny?” she
whispered.

Ginny stirred and her eyes opened slowly. Hermione took a seat next to the other woman. Ginny
rubbed her eyes furiously before focusing them on Hermione.

“Finally, you're back. I was beginning to think you were going to sleep at Harry's house
tonight,” said Ginny, yawning widely.

Hermione knew she was joking but she couldn't help thinking back to the moment, no more than
fifteen minutes ago, and felt her face grow hot. She hoped Ginny didn't notice. Luckily for
her, the redheaded witch seemed oblivious of Hermione's reaction to the remark.

Trying very hard to conceal her embarrassment, Hermione asked Ginny, “What are you doing in here
at this time of night?”

“Whew!” Ginny stretched her muscles luxuriously, “I'm waiting for you, Hermione,” she
answered as she turned and looked at Hermione's surprised face.

“Waiting for me?” repeated Hermione. “At this time of night? What was so important? Are you ok,
Ginny?” asked Hermione, concerned.

“I'm absolutely fine, Hermione,” said Ginny, waving her hand dismissively. She continued
when she saw Hermione was still frowning. “It's Harry. You know, it's all about Harry.”

“Oh, I see…” Hermione said, and trailed off, feeling her face grow hot again. She mentally
chastised herself for acting so immature.

“Ron and I,” continued Ginny, as if hadn't heard Hermione, “we're thinking about having
a talk with Harry. Since you're here, we feel we won't have to worry so much if he gets
mad.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione incredulously.

“Oh you know!” Exclaimed Ginny impatiently. “From the day Cho left him until now, Harry has cut
himself off from us all. Every time we try to talk to him about his life he says we're meddling
in things and he won't speak to us for days afterwards. Sometimes he even shouts at us.”

“Why didn't you tell me any of this, before?” inquired Hermione, a little upset with her
friends.

“How could we? You just got back two days ago and you've spent most of your time with
Harry,” Ginny answered defensively.

“If you wanted, you could have told me in one of the letters you sent,” Hermione retorted.

“Well, Harry threatened us not to tell you anything in our letters,” Ginny stated simply.

“Harry threatened you?” said Hermione, looking at her friend as Ginny stifled a yawn and rubbed
her eyes rapidly.

“Yes, he did. He said he would know if we told you anything and he would never talk to us again
for the rest of his life,” Ginny told Hermione.

“That was childish,” Hermione commented.

“Yes, it was childish,” Ginny agreed. “You don't know how childish he has become over the
last five years Hermione, and that's one of the reasons we want to talk to him.” The redheaded
witch let out a breath as if relieved that Hermione had finally got the point.

Hermione thought for a while, then she asked Ginny, “How do you talk to him? And what
about?”

“We want to know what happened between him and Cho and why she left. We don't believe the
rubbish the *Daily Prophet* brought out and wanted him to tell us the truth so that we could
find a way to help him,” she finished, catching her breath.

Hermione gazed at the flames in the fireplace, lost in thought.

“Well?” prompted Ginny.

Hermione sighed, “You're quite right about that, Ginny, only Harry won't answer any of
your questions, with or without me present.”

“How do you know?” asked Ginny, annoyed.

“Because I already asked him and he wouldn't say a word,” Hermione said, examining her hands
and sighing once more.

Ginny dropped her face in disappointment. They both sat quietly for few minutes before Hermione
broke the silence. “Anyway, I think every one, especially you and Ron, should go over to see him
more often.”

“How do you know we don't?” Ginny asked, raising her eyebrow and folding her hands over her
belly. “We do our best to get him out of his stupid solitude but it was he who tried his best to
push us away.”

*`Stupid solitude?'* Hermione thought to herself, amazed at the description as she
remembered Harry's laughing face.

“What is so amusing, Hermione?”

Ginny's voice snapped Hermione out of her thoughts. She hadn't realized she had been
smiling. She shook her head to clear her mind. `*It must be the lack of sleep,'* she
thought, as she answered Ginny.

“Nothing.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes, “No? Were you daydreaming?”

“I do not daydream, Ginny; it's night, don't you see?” Hermione joked, grinning
sheepishly.

“Oh well!” said Ginny, throwing up her hands. “Siding with him, are you?”

Hermione shrugged. “It has nothing to do with taking sides. We're his friends; we want to
help him to have a better life, right?”

Ginny, as stubborn as she was, nodded in agreement.

Hermione continued, “Then that's it. Tomorrow evening, we will meet at Harry's house,
tell Ron and everyone, will you?”

Ginny nodded. “We'll try to talk to him?” said Ginny enthusiastically.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I guess all pregnant women react this way?”

“Oh! Hermione, just tell!” demanded Ginny.

“No, we won't ask force him to tell us anything he doesn't want.”

Ginny pushed out her lower lip liked a spoiled child not having the chocolate she wanted.

Hermione chuckled inwardly. “We'll have a friendly reunion and a happy evening together, and
please tell Ron not to blurt out any stupid questions; we don't want Harry to shove us out of
his house.”

“As if invading his house is any better,” Ginny snorted. “I still remember the last time I went
to his house without warning.”

“I can imagine,” Hermione chuckled aloud. “Don't worry, I'll tell him in the morning to
expect a visit later.”

“Morning?” Ginny looked at Hermione suspiciously. “You're going to his house tomorrow
morning?”

“Yes, I promised him,” said Hermione, trying very hard to sound casual. “Well, I think you'd
better go home to bed now. You might not want to sleep but the baby inside you needs his rest.”
Hermione looked pointedly at Ginny's belly.

Ginny smirked, “You're wrong. They're a boy *and* a girl.” She grinned
mischievously at Hermione's wide eyes.

“Well, goodnight,” Ginny bid her good-bye. Throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace,
she disappeared.

When Hermione recovered from her shock, she shook her head and went to her room. She readied
herself for bed still thinking about the evening's events. `*What should I do when I meet him
in the morning?'* she asked herself, as she lay on her bed, eyes still wide open. `*Well,
act normal, like you always do. It shouldn't be a problem,'* said the voice of reason in
her head. She sighed and tucked the covers over her head, hoping against hoped that Harry would act
in the usual way.

@@@

**Review…?**

-->



6. Chapter 6
------------

Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** You know they’re not mine. Everything is JKR’s.

**A/N:** Sorry that it took so long for this chapter but I hope you find it’s worth to wait
:)

Big thanks to Nakhash, my wonderful beta, and many many thanks to you all readers and your
wonderful reviews!

No reply for review in this chapter. I’m doing the last minute job in posting it, but I assure
you I have read all your reviews (more than once :)), maybe in the next chapter. Now please
R/R!

***

Hermione Apparated to Harry’s house the next morning. Feeling a little nervous, she opened the
gate and walked in.

“Morning, ‘Mione!” Harry called out.

She looked up and saw that Harry was standing at the front door. He was wearing his black
Auror’s robe and smiling at her. She smiled back and said quickly, “Morning Harry. Did you sleep
well?”

As soon as the question left her lips, Hermione regretted it; the look on Harry’s face told her
he was reminded of yesterday evening, even it was only for a brief moment.

“Oh, it was all right. In fact, I’ve never slept that well.” He gave her a small smile. Hermione
was relieved, knowing it was sincere. “Come in, Hermione. It’s rather cold outside.”

She smiled and followed him inside.

“Have you had breakfast, ‘Mione?” Harry asked, once they were in the living room.

“No,” Hermione answered. “Are you going to work, now?” she asked him, taking her cloak off.

“Not for another hour,” replied Harry. “Will you join me in breakfast?”

“Sure!” answered Hermione brightly.

Harry smiled and said, “Come on then, let’s go to the dining room.”

***

“Please, sit down,” said Harry as he pulled out a chair for her, “and let me hang your cloak for
you.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione, handing him her dark red-gold cloak and sitting down.

He took it and smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll let Dobby know you’ll be joining me. He was
cleaning last I saw him,” he added as an afterthought as he walked out of the room, leaving
Hermione alone at the table. She busied herself with the hem of the tablecloth waiting for Harry to
return.

A few minutes later, Harry entered the room carrying a large tray with coffee, a pitcher of
pumpkin juice, some toast, butter, and two plates of fried eggs and chips. He put the tray down,
seating himself opposite her.

“I hope you still like it,” he said, handing her the pumpkin juice.

“Oh! How I missed it, Harry,” Hermione exclaimed. She took the glass and sipped delightedly.
“Hmm... I feel like I’m home, again,” She sighed, and closed her eyes savoring the feeling of the
sweet liquid flowing down her throat. Opening her eyes, she saw Harry was watching her. She blushed
a little, embarrassed. “You know, I haven’t had this for so long.”

His lips curled into a smile and he interrupted, “I understand, Hermione, and I’m glad you still
like it.”

Hermione smiled. The two best friends started eating their breakfast, peacefully.

“Is Agnes awake, yet?” asked Hermione, wiping her mouth with a white napkin.

“No,” Harry replied, shoving another piece of egg into his mouth. “She was still sleeping when
you came, but don’t worry, if she wakes up Dobby will take care of her.”

Hermione frowned. “You should at least see her before you go to work, Harry,” she commented.

“I do, but she’s always sleeping when I leave,” Harry sighed. “She’s my child, Hermione, I love
her but I also have to work. You know that, don’t you?” He looked into her eyes as if it would help
in explaining things to her more clearly.

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking it would be nice if you two spent more time together,” she said
ruefully.

“Don’t be, Hermione, I know you want to help and I really appreciate it,” he said softly and
smiled, drawing a small smile from her.

“I think it’s time, now,” said Harry finishing off his coffee. “Do you want to stay here till
this evening or do you have other plans?” Harry asked.

“No, I don’t have anything to do other then spend time with Agnes today,” Hermione responded
immediately.

“Thank you, ‘Mione,” said Harry appreciatively.

“My pleasure,” Hermione beamed. “Oh, Harry, I’ve got something to ask you,” she said quickly, as
Harry stood up.

“What is it, ‘Mione?” inquired Harry, turning to her. She began shifting in her seat,
uncomfortably, making Harry nervous. He walked around the table to her side and urged, “Tell me,
‘Mione, is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing at all,” she stammered, chewing her bottom lip before continuing. “I’ve
arranged a friendly reunion here this evening at five,” she blurted out briskly yet quietly, almost
liked a whisper.

It took Harry quite a few moments to register what she had just said. When he finally made the
connection he screamed, “What have you done?”

Hermione flinching noticeably and Harry instantly calmed himself. She let out a deep breath and
said, locking her eyes with his, “Look, I’m sorry that I’ve, technically, used your house without
your permission; I have no intention of hurting you or meddling in your life. I just think it’s a
good idea for friends to get together sometimes; especially for you, Harry.” She kept her eyes on
him, a single tear threatening to fall.

Harry sighed, a long, low sigh. He took a step closer to her and brushed away the tear. “I know,
Hermione; I understand. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t yell at you.”

She threw her arms around his neck; laying her head on his chest, she broke into sobs. Harry
wrapped his arms around her and gently stroked her back. He whispered reassuringly, “It’s all
right, Hermione. I’m not angry with you.”

“So you agree?” she asked between the sobs.

Harry sighed once more, “OK, you win.”

Hermione stopped crying. She untangled herself from his arms and took a step back to see if he
was serious, then she squeaked; her eyes gleamed with unshed tears but she was beaming as she
suddenly kissed him on the cheek. Harry was stunned. He touched the spot on his check while
Hermione, who seemed overly excited, clapped her hands and kept saying, “I knew you would
understand, Harry.”

Hermione finally calmed down. She glanced at her watch. “Gods! Harry, you’re late!” she
gasped.

He was pulled roughly out of his thoughts by Hermione’s words.

“Oh, well, goodbye, ‘Mione.” He hurriedly walked to the door.

“Wait!” Hermione called out and ran to Harry’s chair. Pulling his black cloak from the armrest,
she hurried back to Harry, who was standing in the doorway, smiling.

“Here, it’s cold outside,” said Hermione, tossing the cloak into his hands.

“Thanks, ‘Mione,” he said, wrapping the cloak around him.

“You’re welcome.” Hermione smiled shyly. “Bye!”

“Bye!” said Harry, and he walked out of the house before Apparating to the Ministry of
Magic.

***

After Harry left, Hermione went to Agnes's room. The girl was still sleeping peacefully.
Hermione smiled and leaned forward to kiss her tiny forehead, then left the room to find Dobby. She
found him in the kitchen fussing over two steaming cauldrons.

“Hello, Dobby,” Hermione called out from behind the house-elf. “What are you doing?” she asked,
craning her neck to see into the cauldrons.

Dobby wheeled around and smiled. “Good morning Miss,” the elf greeted Hermione. “Dobby is
cooking dinner for Harry Potter,” he answered, and went back to stirring the cauldrons again.

Hermione laughed. “Oh! Dobby, it’s only nine o’clock in the morning and you’re cooking dinner?”
asked Hermione, giggling.

“Dobby knows Miss would thinks he is crazy,” said Dobby with a little note of hurt, “but Dobby
has a lot of works to do.” He again turned to his cauldrons.

“No, Dobby, I don’t,” said Hermione quickly. “I’m sorry.” She narrowed her eyes and frowned, “Is
it because of Agnes?” she inquired.

Dobby’s eyes widened. He squealed, “Oh Miss! Please don’t be angry with little Miss Agnes. Dobby
volunteers to help Harry Potter, himself, Miss.”

“No, I’m not angry with Agnes, don’t worry,” she answered absentmindedly. Her brows creased
together as she thought.

“Eh... Miss is wanting something?” Dobby’s voice broke into Hermione’s thoughts.

“Oh... yes, I wanted to tell you that there will be a small party here this evening,” she told
him.

Dobby looked somewhat bewildered at the news; maybe it was because of the word ‘*party.’*
Who would think Harry Potter would give a party? Hermione smirked internally, then turned to the
confused house-elf. She explained, “It was my idea to invite some of our old friends from school to
have a little reunion.”

Dobby looked pleases.

Hermione continued, “I hope you can provide us with some food and drink, maybe something that
reminds us of Hogwarts?” She grinned as Dobby’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Of course, Miss! Dobby is doing his best,” he promised with a beam.

“Thank you very much, Dobby,” said Hermione, “and don’t worry about Agnes, I’ll take care of
her.”

“Thank you, Miss Hermione,” he said, bowing his head.

***

Hermione left the kitchen and retired to the nursery where she waited for Agnes to wake up. It
wasn’t long before the little girl started to stir. Hermione gave her a bath and dressed her. The
entire day was spent with Agnes; she fed her, played with her, took her for a walk, and even read
her some of the books in Harry’s library, which were mostly about Defense Against the Dark Arts and
Quidditch. She found a Quidditch book with lively color photos to show Agnes. The girl seemed
fascinated with the game and kept groping the golden Snitch zooming around the page. ‘*Like
father, like daughter,’* thought Hermione, smiling fondly.

In the evening, Hermione took Agnes to her room for a nap. The girl sleepily protested but once
she was lying in her crib with a bottle, she quickly drifted off to sleep. Hermione made good use
of the time to prepare for the party.

It was late fall. The weather had started to freeze a bit with occasional snow flurries.
Hermione decided to arrange the table in the garden despite the cold temperature. She didn’t know
how many people Ginny had invited but better safe than sorry. Hermione conjured a long, wooded
table and a dozen chairs and placed them in the middle of the well-cut lawn, near the rose bushes.
Then she cast a warming charm around the space. ‘*Hmm...this is one the best things of being a
witch,’* Hermione mused slyly. She conjured a light blue tablecloth and a white china vase,
which she placed on the table. She then transfigured a tree branch into a pair of clippers and cut
some roses for the vase. She stood still, eyeing the decoration she had just made, and tapped her
finger against her bottom lip, trying to think what else to add. A few seconds passed; her eyes
glinted with excitement. She pointed her wand at the area above the table and whispered something
under her breath; suddenly, dozens of white candles floated in midair lighting up the darkening
sky.

Hermione stepped back a few meters to admire the sight in front of her. The candles reminded her
of Hogwarts’ Great Hall and everything in the garden reminded her of the dinner in the garden at
the Burrow on that long ago summer, though the images still danced vividly in her memory. She let
out a deep breath; she was a little tired as she had used a lot of her energy on the various
spells. But, she was happy at the results and looking forward to the reunion. She glanced at her
watch; it was 5:45 PM. Hermione hadn’t told Ginny the exact time of the so-called party, though she
figured they would be arriving soon, so Hermione went back inside to get herself ready. She wanted
to freshen up before the evening and decided to take a quick shower in the guest bathroom but
first, had to check on Dobby and Agnes.

***

Twenty minutes later, Hermione was ready. She preformed a cleaning spell on her clothes before
getting dressed and went back to the main hall. She met Harry at the entrance. He was just back
from work; still in the robes he wore that morning and looking miserable. Hermione’s heart leapt a
bit, with worry. She moved to stand in front of him, searching his face.

“Is something wrong, Harry?” she asked anxiously.

“No, I’m fine, ‘Mione,” Harry answered, forcing a smile on his face.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “You better tell me, Harry Potter,” she said in a threatening tone,
“I know when something isn’t right; something is bothering you.”

Harry’s face turned a little red and his eyes glittering dangerously. Hermione knew he was angry
with her for always being right. It had been that way for years’ since they were still at Hogwarts.
Even the five years apart hadn’t affected the knowledge she had about him. Well, not much, she
still thought there was something he was keeping from her and she, for one, couldn’t figure it out.
Hermione shook herself from her speculations and focused on the matter at hand; Harry. She looked
at him expectantly, ignoring the angry look on his face.

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his unruly, black hair. “I was just feeling a little
nervous, that’s all,” he said shortly and stood still as if to wait for Hermione to laugh at
him.

She merely smiled and patted his upper arm encouragingly. “It’s all right, Harry,” said
Hermione. Then she heard a sound coming from outside the house.

“It sounds like someone crashed a broom on the ground. Let’s go and see,” Hermione said,
grinning.

Harry grinned back and the two of them walked out to greet their guests.

***

*“Aaarrrgh!!! Get off me!” c*ame the scream from outside.

Harry and Hermione rushed to see what had happened. They glanced around but the sky was dark
gray now and it was difficult to see anything. Hermione spotted something moving in the flower
bushes.

“Look, Harry!” exclaimed Hermione, pointing at the tattered flower bush.

“Get your legs off of me, Fred!” George’s voice bellowed.

“You’re sitting on the broom; I can’t move!” Fred yelled back.

Hermione and Harry dashed off to where the sound was coming from.

“Lumos!” Hermione muttered, and a small light beamed from the tip of her wand, revealing two
redheads entwined with something that looked like a broomstick but was twice as large and
longer.

“Fred, George! Are you okay?” asked Harry, helping them disengage from the broom.

“Okay, mate,” said George, brushing himself off.

“Ow! He sat on my stomach,” Fred grumbled, clutching his middle. “It’s your fault,” he said
accusingly, “I said to light your wand but you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t reach my wand!” George argued. “You flew too fast.”

“Oh, do stop, you two!” Hermione yelled.

“Harry! Hermione!” someone called from the front entrance. The twins stopped arguing as another
redhead with a dirty blonde, dreamy-looking Luna walked in.

“Hey, don’t tell me you two are arguing again,” Ron smirked, then turned to Harry. “Hi, Harry!
Haven’t seen you for ages, mate!” As they hugged, Hermione could see the two grown men were on the
brink of tears; she smiled.

“Let’s move to a proper place, all of you,” announced Hermione, in her best Head Girl voice.
“Where’s Ginny and Draco?”

“Here!” came Ginny’s voice from behind them. They turned to face a very annoyed witch striding
toward them and a platinum blond wizard jogging behind trying to keep up.

“Ginny, wait!, you’re walking too fast!” Draco called out to his wife.

“It’s your fault we’re late!” Ginny retorted angrily.

“Look, I just want her to be safe and she’s mad at me because of it,” Draco told them, once he
had caught his breath.

“Well, Draco, she *is* pregnant; you should indulge her a little more,” Luna chipped
in.

“But- but-” he stuttered; Harry cut him off. “Let’s get to dinner, shall we? Hermione says she
has a surprise.”

Hermione grinned and led the way to the back garden where she had set up the dining table.

“Wow! Hermione!” Ginny and Luna said in awe.

“Hermione! I can’t believe such a bookworm as you was able to set up such a romantic
environment,” said Draco.

Hermione turned to face him, putting both her hands on her hips. “And what am I suppose to say
about that? Is that a compliment or an insult?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Fred and George broke into a fit of laugher. “Draco, you’re so unlucky, today,” Fred commented
with a grin, “what have you done?”

But before Draco could answer Ron whined, “Hey! When will you all stop arguing? I’m
starving.”

They all laughed and sat down, food appeared out of nowhere. It was Dobby’s idea to serve the
food this way when Hermione went to check on him earlier. He would be with Agnes right now. They
started eating the delicious food. Everything resembled Hogwarts except the drink - Fire
Whiskey.

They were in the middle of dinner when Neville Longbottom showed up. “Sorry,” he muttered in
embarrassment, “the students get loose and I had to sort things out.”

“Never mind,” Said Harry, smiling, “I’m glad you were able to join us.”

“Hey, you didn’t tell me you invited him,” Hermione told Ginny.
“You never asked; besides, he said he wasn’t sure if

he could make it,” replied Ginny, shrugging and turning

to Draco.
“Pass me another sausage, please.” 
Draco complied but reminded Ginny, “It’s your third sausage

now, dear.”
“That’s right, ‘Mione,” Neville chimed in. 
“Well, how are you, Neville?” Hermione asked, while

Ginny was pouting that Draco thought she was getting

fat and ugly and Draco was trying to tell her it wasn’t

true.
“I’m fine,” answered Neville, serving himself a piece

of Yorkshire pudding. “Teaching is fine.”
“He’s as ‘fine’ as prey in a lion’s clutches, only Snape is a snake,” said Fred, laughing.

“Severus is not really bad once you get to know him,” Neville told them.

The twins roared with laugher. “Severus! Oh *Severus?*” said George, wiping his eyes, “that
greasy git is good?”

Neville ignored him, turning to Hermione. “What are you doing, ‘Mione?”

The twins stopped laughing and turned to talk with Harry and Ron about their newly invented
broom. Hermione answered Neville truthfully. “I don’t know yet, Neville.”

“You know, Professor Binns finally decided to retire…” Neville started, but was interrupted by
the sound of Ron spitting Fire Whiskey.

“He what?” Ron stuttered as everyone turned to look at Neville.

“Professor Binns decided to retire,” Neville repeated.

The twins, Ron, Draco, and even Harry howled with laugher. Ginny and Luna giggled madly.
Hermione gave them all disgusted looks and glared at Harry. He grinned at her guiltily.

“I- I think History of Magic will be- will be less ‘dreamy’ without him.” Ron managed to gasp
out.

Luna hit him on the head. “Are you saying that dreamy is boring?” asked Luna sharply.

“No- not at all love,” Ron said quickly and gave his wife a kiss on the lips, drawing a cough
from the twins.

“So, who’s teaching, now?” asked Harry.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Neville replied, smiling, “but he keeps complaining that his back aches
from standing too long and he’s always tripping on his robes in class.” They laughed as Neville
continued. “If you’re looking for a job, Hermione, I can inform Professor Dumbledore.”

“Hmm...that is interesting,” said Hermione, thinking, “but teaching a lot of kids will not leave
me much free time.”

“Tsk, tsk, this is the first time I’ve heard you need free time, ‘Mione,” said Ron,
mockingly.

Hermione glared at him. “For your information, Ronald Weasley, I need time to write a book about
my research.”

“Oh, you want to be an author?” asked Neville.

“Yeah, she does,” said Ginny, answering Neville’s question. “She wants to find a place to write
in *peace.”*

Hermione glared at her but she merely snickered in turn.

“Hey, why don’t you stay with Harry?” Draco blurted out and all heads turned to look at him.
“Eh- well?” he asked uncertainly.

“Well, that’s a great idea!” Fred exclaimed, patting Draco’s shoulder.

“Yeah, that would be wonderful, Harry!” George chimed in. “Hermione can have a place to work and
she can help care for Agnes.” Every one nodded in agreement. Harry looked from one to another then
looked at Hermione.

Hermione could see the unasked question in his eyes. She shrugged as if to say, ‘*they do have
good points,’* though she didn’t say anything. There was a silence; finally Hermione spoke,
“Well it sounds good; if you don’t mind, Harry.”

Harry let out a deep breath. “I don’t, Hermione,” he said, somewhat desperately, “but I’m afraid
that you’ll think I’m taking advantage of your staying by having you look after Agnes.”

“Silly,” said Hermione, smiling, “I won’t think that; besides, I’ll have my own place. It’s
fair.” She grinned and Harry smiled.

“Deal!” said Fred and George. Everyone smiled as they raised their glasses to toast the
decision, “Cheers!”

They ate and talked until late into the night. Around one o’clock, everyone started to bid their
good-byes. Soon, only Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Luna were left.

“Harry, I’m glad we’re back to normal,” said Ron, as they walked to the front entrance.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been behaving stupidly for so long, Ron.” Harry said sadly.

“No, no sorry, mate,” said Ron, “only promise me that we’ll be friends forever, can you do
that?”

The two men shook hands and hugged each other. “Yes, we’re friends.”

Harry and Ron parted. Ron turned to hug Hermione. “I’m very, very glad you’re back,
Hermione.”

“You said that already, Ron,” said Hermione playfully, as she hugged him back.

“I know, but I just wanted to remind you.” He grinned. “Thank you for today, Harry,
Hermione.”

“And thanks for coming, too.” Hermione hugged Luna.

“Night, Harry, Hermione,” said Luna sleepily.

Ron hugged Hermione and Harry one last time before taking Luna into his arms and Apparating
away.

“Want to help me clear away your garden?” asked Hermione.

“It’s late now, Hermione, you should go home. I can do that alone,” said Harry worriedly. “You
must be very tired after all you’ve done.”

“No, I’m not.” Hermione didn’t let him speak anymore; she ran to the garden and Harry
followed.

“Did I tell you how wonderful this was, Hermione?” asked Harry, when he caught up with her,
standing under the candlelight.

“No, but I knew you liked it, didn’t you?” Hermione replied, fixing her gaze on his face.

“Yes, I liked it,” Harry whispered breathlessly. They were so close now that their noses brushed
softly against each other. Unlike the other day, Hermione didn’t pull away when their lips came
closer and closer, finally touching in a soft, sweet kiss.

***

Hermione couldn’t recall how she got back to the Burrow. All she knew was that her heart was
beating like crazy and her lips tasted oddly sweet. She took a shower and changed from her robes
into a nightdress, then went to sleep, still completely dazed.

***

Review...?



7. Chapter 7
------------



**Chapter 7**

*Disclaimer:* *sigh* Not in a million year that HP would be mine so don't sue me. All
belong to JKR.

*A/N:* I'm so sorry that it takes me so long to update. It's because of my current
situation and I just want it to be good for you all that I kept writing and rewriting so many
times.

My thanks to my wonderful beta, *Nakhash*, she beta read this chapter and is great as
always. Thanks to all of you who patiently wait for me **hugs**.

Here are some answers I have promised:

*Plum Blossoms:* The answer is in the first few chapters but I will tell you now - he is
Draco.

*Coolone007 and Lady Starlight:* Great observation! Hermione does try and so does Harry.
Coolone, if there is anyone could do, it's Hermione, remember her 3rd year? :-)

*MrsDanielRadcliffe and Athena Hermione Riddle:* Some action, huh? Here is some; there
would be more to come in time, just keep reading.

*tabitoo and Eleanna:* I too like slow progression :-)

*Shellbell18:* *Gasp* Phew! It's close...

*izzieq:* There are so many questions, right? Well, the answers should be in the next, next
chapters.

*Austenlover:* You would be clarified after you read this chapter.

Okay, it's getting too long for A/N now. On to the chapter, cheer!

***

Hermione spent most of her time in the next few days preparing for moving in with Harry. There
was nothing much to do, but she refused to meet Harry just yet. It was as if she were preparing her
mind rather than preparing her belongings. She had never been so confused before. Admittedly, she
was a little thrilled at the thought of her and Harry being more than friends, but at the same time
an alarm bell was ringing in her head as if to tell her that what she was thinking was
dangerous.

Hermione sighed heavily. Sitting on her bed, she toyed with her Modern Art of Potions'
Brewing book, unable to put it in the waiting suitcase because, if she finished her packing, there
would be nothing more to distract her. She sighed once more. It was no use avoiding the topic.
Hermione let her mind wander onto the current situation, which she dared not speculate on too
deeply, before.

*Do you really want to deepen your relationship? What if Harry doesn't feel the same? And
what are you feeling? Do you love Harry? Yes, I do,* Hermione practically answered herself, but
another question appeared, *Are you* *in love with him?* Hermione frowned and was silent
for a moment. As of now, she had no answer for that question. It was true that she loved Harry and
cared for him, but was she *in love* with him?

She thought back to her past love life. Her first date was Viktor Krum, who was more or less a
friend rather than a boyfriend. Her feelings for him were nothing more than a sort of pride that,
while she was clearly a bookworm with frizzy hair and buckteeth, he, an international Quidditch
star, had asked her out. She was flattered, to say the least. However, when he went back to his
country, even though they had communicated by owl her feelings for him had never developed. He
remained her friend, her pen pal.

After Viktor, there came Ron, sweet Ronald. Hermione smiled at the memories. It started in the
summer of their sixth year at Hogwarts. They had tried to pursue a relationship and dated a few
times during that year. It was the most outrageous experience she ever had in her tiny love life.
If they weren't quarrelling or biting one another's heads off, they were too polite: Ron
pulled a chair out for Hermione; Hermione sat next to Ron, trying very hard not to make snide
comments over his eating habits; Ron held the door open for Hermione, but the worst part was the
conversations they shared. One of them would just say: *Oh yeah? Really? Uh-huh...* That was
when they were trying to avoid arguing. It was not long before they were both tired of the charade
and their new developing relationship was ended by silent agreement, which both of them gratefully
accepted.

Their seventh year had been so busy and stressful that she had no time for a relationship with
anyone. They were all caught up with N.E.W.Ts and the war. But when the war ended and they had
graduated, she had gone away, seeking her life. In truth, she had dated a few times throughout the
last five years, but not a single relationship survived more than a few months. That was either her
fault or her ever constant moving about, though she suspected the first. She remembered there had
been a man whom she had thought was her mate; still, it turned out otherwise in the end. They were
still friends, but she somehow felt guilty for what she had done to him. Hermione shook her head;
sometimes it was easier to understand other people's minds than your own.

Now there came Harry. They were friends for so long but had never once tried to develop the
relationship they had into something more. Unlike with Ron, Hermione was comfortable with Harry.
She was able to discus problems with him, and they had worked successfully with each other on many
occasions. She cared for him, loved him, and wanted the best for him, and she knew he felt the same
way about her. What she didn't know was his and her heart's desire. *Does he love me more
than a best female friend? Do I love him more than a best male friend?* Hermione sighed once
more. There were too many questions, and she didn't know the answers, worse, she didn't
dare to find the answers. *How Gryffindor you are, Granger!* a voice said sarcastically in her
mind. But what could she do? *Go find Harry and ask him right away?* Hermione shook her head
grimly.

She put the last book in the opened suitcase, closed it, and stood up resolutely. She would wait
and reserve the decision for later; besides, she had not got a clear view of the whole situation
between Harry and Cho yet, so it was better to wait and see. She wouldn't want to do something
that could ruin their friendship, least of all something that she, herself, wasn't even sure
of.

As she looked around the room for anything she might have left out, a snowy owl flew in through
the opened window. Hermione smiled at the owl when it landed on her shoulder.

“Hello, Hedwig,” said Hermione, patting her soft feathers. “Have you been out on mission, girl?
I haven't seen you since I've been back.”

The owl nipped Hermione's ear lightly as if to reply to the witch's question. Hermione
chuckled and untied a note from Hedwig's leg. It was from Harry.

*Dear Hermione,*

*Have you changed your mind, now? Why don't you come and visit? Agnes keeps saying
M'nee; I think she misses you.* *(Hermione smiled as she thought of Agnes but frowned at
seeing a long scratch on the parchment)* *Are you angry with me, Hermione? I'm sorry if I
have offended you. I suppose it was out of my control; I didn't mean to upset you. Can you
forgive me?*

*Love,*

*Harry*

Hermione read the letter one more time before turning to Hedwig. “Can you wait a minute? I will
write a note back to him.” Hedwig nibbled her ear again then flew to stand on the windowsill.
Grasping a piece of parchment and a quill, she wrote:

*Dear Harry,*

*I'm not angry with you for any reason. The event* *(she began but thought better of
it and crossed the words out)* *- I have not changed my mind. I just need a few days to
arrange everything* *(there - it's true, she thought)* *and go to visit my parents. I
will meet you when I return. Kiss Agnes for me, okay?*

*Love,*

*Hermione*

*PS. I'm going to Floo my things to you, first.*

Hermione tied the letter on Hedwig's leg and bid the bird goodbye as she took off. Relief
washed over her as she skimmed over Harry's letter again. How foolish of her to think Harry
meant it. It would save them both from terrible awkward feelings once she moved in with him.
Ignoring a slight disappointment in her heart, she waved her wand over her luggage, using the
Mobilibuxus charm to move them to the fireplace. She threw a handful of Floo powder in and said
clearly, “Harry Potter's house!” The fire burnt bright green and her trunk vanished in a
minute.

Picking up a small bag, stuffed with some clothes and other useful things, from the bed, she
went downstairs to thank Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for kindly allowing her to stay with them.

***

Hermione arrived at her parents' house around midday. The door was locked, indicating that
her mother and father had not yet arrived home. She searched her bag and purse for the key but
found nothing. She must have lost it or left it in her trunk, which she had already transferred to
Harry's house. She sighed. Pulling out her wand, she looked around for any sigh of Muggle, but
there was none. She tapped her wand lightly on the doorknob and muttered “*Alohomora*”. The
door clicked open, revealing her childhood home.

Everything was the same, clean and tidy. Hermione smiled and walked in. She closed the door with
another flick of her wand. Hermione was on the brink of tears as she looked at her surroundings and
memories came back to her. Her gaze rested on the set of furniture in the middle of the living
room. There stood a beautiful golden frame with a Muggle photograph in it.

In the photo was a beautiful woman with brown hair and dark brown eyes. She was Hermione's
mother, sitting on a coach. A little girl, young Hermione, sat on her lap; her father was standing
behind them, wrapping his arms around her mother's shoulders. Hermione brushed her fingertips
over the tiny figures in the photo. She had missed her parents very much and, now, looking at the
photo was just making the feelings come crushing down. Hermione hugged the picture to her chest as
tears of emotion melted down her cheeks.

A few minutes later, she calmed down. Hermione put the picture back on the table and brushed the
remaining teardrops from her face. Still remembering her way around the house clearly, Hermione
eagerly climbed the stairs to her room. It was a nice little room with one bed, a writing desk, a
dresser, and two rather large bookcases. Hermione dropped her bag on her bed and started exploring.
The room was as clean as the living room, no dust on the furniture or wrinkles on the bed sheet;
her mother must have cleaned it regularly. She walked to her bookcases. Pulling her wand out, she
tapped it on the right onside and muttered a spell; every book in the bookcase sparkled brightly
for a second. Hermione smiled; she placed her wand on the desk and picked a book up, turning a few
pages for confirmation. Her smiled broadened in satisfaction. She had set up a ward on her room,
particularly on her bookcases and her desk, which contained most of her personally magical things,
before she took off on her journey. It was not likely that her mother and father would go wandering
through her personal things, but it was better safe than sorry, for some of her things were quite
nasty.

She prepared a few more things, and then took a bath. While traveling had done nothing to make
her tired, her emotions over her childhood memories had drawn a lot of her energy and she had
become exhausted. So Hermione thought she would take a nap before she went off hunting for some
Muggle lunch, maybe a sandwich, a humbugger, pizza, or whatever; she really missed those kinds of
foods very much.

It was very late when Hermione returned from exploring Muggle London. After traveling so long,
she was glad to be back in her country. *No place like home*, she thought happily, as she
crawled into her bed. Hermione drifted off to sleep, so exhausted that all thought of the Wizarding
world was far away from her mind, including the object of her recent sleepless nights.

***

The next day, her parents arrived; they were overjoyed to see her. Her mother was unable to let
go of her at all, and her father beamed delightedly the entire time. When she saw her parents,
Hermione realized how she had missed them and thanked the gods for the hundredth time for letting
them survive the war five years ago. Seeing the happiness of her mother and father, Hermione
decided to take up the matter of her moving in with Harry, later, for now, she would just enjoy the
family reunion.

Before she knew it, two days had passed and Hermione decided it was time to tell her parents at
dinner that night. Thankfully, it was her father who brought up the topic. She had told them that
she would stay for three days but never mentioned where she would go after that.

“Sweetie, what are you planning to do?” asked her father.

Her mother looked up from her plate, somewhat surprised, but quickly smiled and said
encouragingly, “Yes, Hermione, will you find a job somewhere in London?”

Hermione bit her lower lip out of childhood habit, thinking of a way to break the news. “As a
matter of fact, I already have a plan.” She paused to look from her father's concerned face to
her mother's hopeful face. “I'm going to live with Harry,” she finally announced.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked dumbfounded and confused. They had heard Harry Potter was married to
a woman named Cho Chang from Arthur Weasley, who sometimes dropped in after work to talk to Mr.
Granger about some new Muggle inventions. But they didn't know what had happened after the
marriage.

“What did you say? Isn't Harry Potter married?” her father inquired carefully as if he were
trying to calm himself.

“Yes, Hermione darling, do you know what you are doing?” asked her mother when she found her
voice again.

Hermione wasn't surprised that her parents knew about Harry being married, because if Harry
hadn't invited them to his wedding, they would at least have heard the news from Mr. Weasley.
Mr. Weasley sometimes came to visit her parents while she was still at Hogwarts. But explaining to
them the current conditions wasn't going to be easy. She sighed inwardly.

“You know about Harry's wedding, then,” she stated, and both parents nodded. “But do you
know that Cho, Harry's wife, is no longer living with him? She left him and their daughter,
almost two years ago.” She shook her head pleadingly at her parents' protesting looks. “Please,
Mom, Dad it's not like what you're thinking. I'm not going to develop a relationship
with Harry while he's still married to another woman. We are best friends.” *For now,* a
voice in her mind added wickedly, but Hermione ignored it. She focused her attention fully on the
debate with her parents.

“But why do you want to live with him? It's not that you have nowhere to go, love,” her
mother demanded.

“We have an agreement,” Hermione explained patiently. “I'll have a good place to write my
book without having to worry about anything and, in turn, I'll help him take care of his
daughter. It's not easy for a man to look after a child while he still has to work.” She
stopped then added enthusiastically. “Oh - and you wouldn't believe how lovely Agnes is!
You'll love her the instant you see her, I'm sure.” Hermione beamed at her mother and
father, who looked at one another worriedly.

Mrs. Granger put her knife and folk down neatly. She looked at Hermione seriously for a moment.
“How about your life? Your reputation?” she asked, worry visible on her face and her husband's.
“You can't just stick to him forever, Hermione.”

Hermione scratched her plate with her folk absentmindedly, an annoying habit when thinking she
had developed over the many times of talking while eating with her coworkers in Africa, then she
said, “I know you love me, Mom, Dad, but *please* let me choose my road myself.” Her mother
gave her a dark look as if to say, *Don't you always?* Hermione just smiled and went on,
glancing at her father's stern face. “I know what I'm doing. I just need to finish what
I've started, and it's not likely that Agnes will stay small forever.”

She gave her parents a sweet smile, reassuring them, but her father still looked anything but
reassured and her mother's brows creased together doubtfully. “Oh, please! Mom,” she pleaded
desperately, “I promise no more than a few years; I'll show you my groom and settle down, all
right?”

“If you say so, dear,” said her mother, unconvinced, but squeezed Hermione's hands firmly in
understanding.

Hermione smiled brightly and turned to her father. “All right, Dad?” she asked, her big browns
eyes shining with hope.

“All right,” her father grumbled. Hermione threw herself on her father like a five-year-old girl
and hugged him tightly. Mr. Granger couldn't help but smile and hugged his little girl in turn.
“Thanks, Dad,” said Hermione, kissing her father on the cheek.

***

Her last night at her parents' house went well with little tension between them. The next
morning, she said goodbye to her parents, trying very hard not to shed tears. She Apparated to
Harry's house, wondering if he had already left for work. That would give her a little more
time to prepare herself before actually meeting him but, thinking it over again, delaying time did
nothing to calm her winding mind. *Well, let's get it over with it.* With that thought,
Hermione pushed open the gate and walked past the beautiful garden covered with soft layers of
fresh snow.

Brushing off some snow on her hair and robe, Hermione knocked lightly on the front door. She
expected to hear Dobby's high squeaking voice answer the door, but it slid open without any
sound. Hermione looked up from the doorstep and saw Harry towering over her; his face was blank for
a moment before filling up with a reluctant smile.

“Good morning, Harry,” said Hermione, hoping that she sound normally cheerful.

“Hi, Hermione, come on in. It's cold out there,” Harry greeted her and held the door open
for her.

“How did everything go at your parents'?” asked Harry during the short walk to the living
room.

“Wonderful!” answered Hermione, brushing off the remaining snow from her hair. “We were all
happy to see each other again, and we had quite a good time together.”

They arrived at the living room. Harry didn't show any signs of uneasiness toward her
presence at all, and that was what made Hermione relax.

“Will you wait a few minutes? I'll fix us some tea, or would you prefer coffee?” Harry
offered.

Hermione took off her cloak and dropped it, along with her bag, on one chair. She then sat
herself in another before replying, “Coffee would be nice, thank you.”

Harry sailed out of the room, leaving Hermione alone. She replayed their conversation again in
her mind. Harry was polite and seemed to be careful with his words, but he showed no trace of being
uncomfortable, at all. Maybe it was just her mind played a trick on her - that was all. He had been
cautious and slightly withdrawn since she was back, not just after that night. Sighing heavily,
Hermione decided that whatever had happened, she would just keep it in her heart. She had to be
comfortable around him if they were to live under the same roof.

A few minutes later, Harry was back. Hermione forced her mind to get back on the matter at hand.
Harry set the cups on the table and poured some coffee for Hermione. “Sugar or milk?” he asked.

“Neither. I prefer black,” answered Hermione, taking the cup from Harry. Seeing Harry raise an
eyebrow, she said, “Don't look at me like that, it's become a habit for me now. Can't
change.” She muffled the last words while delightedly sipping the bitter liquid.

Harry put two cubes of sugar into his cup and stirred lazily. “I'm glad you're here,
Hermione,” he said.

“Now, Harry, don't start again,” Hermione responded and shook her head. “We have our
bargain, remember?”

Harry smiled. “Of course I do,” he said and drank his coffee. “Do your parents know you're
living here - with me?” he asked after a pause.

“Yes, they do; I told them,” she replied casually, still sipping her coffee.

“They didn't get mad at me, did they?” he asked again.

Hermione looked up at him with an eyebrow raised elegantly. “Why should they?” she inquired,
even though Hermione suspected she already knew the answer.

“Because I've taken their daughter away from them,” he said softly, looking down. “I always
am a trouble for you, Hermione.”

Hermione frowned; it was far from what she had expected and it was worse. “No, you're not,”
she told him slowly and firmly. “I've decided that for myself and my parents, they understand
quite well.” *After a long session of debating*, she added silently to herself. Aloud, she
went on, “I hope this is our last talk on the subject, okay?”

“Okay,” said Harry. His face softened as he smiled. They looked at one another silently for a
few seconds. Hermione felt her face grew a little hot; quickly she turned her gaze down on her
empty cup. Harry followed her direction and offered to refill it.

“Aren't you working today?” Hermione asked, changing the subject. She glanced at her
wristwatch; it showed ten am. Harry should be in a dead hurry now if he wanted to get to the
Ministry of Magic on time.

“No, I'm not working today,” he replied. Suddenly his face felt into a thoughtful
expression.

“What's wrong, Harry?” Hermione asked with concern. “Has anything bad happened?”

Putting his cup down, Harry folded his arms on the table. “Not really bad, don't worry,” he
told Hermione, “there had been a group of Dark wizards forming a few years ago. The Ministry had
once conquered them, but they've reformed and now have members in many other countries besides
England.”

“They're not very dangerous, are they?” asked Hermione. “You look troubled.”

“Well, it's that I, along with the other Aurors, will be leaving for France this afternoon,”
Harry informed her.

“Is it an urgency?” asked Hermione, frowning. It didn't sound like nothing to worry about if
he had to leave so quickly.

“As a matter of fact, it's not,” Harry explained. “I was informed of the trip a week
ago...”

“I can't believe it!” interrupted Hermione, irritably. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?
In your letter?”

“Sorry, I just didn't want to disturb you ahead of time, Hermione,” he said softly as if
trying to make it up to her.

“Disturb? Harry Potter!” Hermione said hotly, “Am I not your friend? What if I had decided to
stay for another week or so? Who would take care of Agnes?” She choked on her last words; somehow
Harry's words had brought up so many emotions in her mind. One of the feelings was *hurt*.
How could he think such a thing would disturb her? Shaking her head she turned away, trying to hide
the sadness that was surely written on her flushed face. “You don't trust me,” she said just
above a whisper, but somehow Harry seemed to hear her.

“I'm sorry, Hermione,” Harry said softly. He reached for her hands and squeezed them
slightly. “I didn't mean to hurt you. I just - I thought I'd better leave you alone for a
while.” He sighed.

“Of course you didn't,” Hermione said pulling her hands from his. “I don't know, Harry,
but you've been acting so distant since I returned. You're still thinking of me as your
best friend, aren't you?” She gazed into his emerald eyes that hid behind his round spectacles.
His eyes bored into hers for a few seconds before shifting his gaze to the remaining black coffee
in her cup.

He nodded slowly and said, his voice clear and determined, “Yes, we are, we always will be.”

Hermione smiled a small smile and grasped his hands. “I won't make you promise to tell me
everything, but if you ever need a hand or an ear, please think of me as your first option, okay?
And I don't think it will be any trouble since I'm going to be living in the same house as
you.”

“All right,” he said.

“Deal!” said Hermione, beaming brightly. “So how long will you stay in France?”

“I'm not sure,” Harry responded, “it depends on how soon we seize them all; it could be a
week, a month, or several months.”

Hermione stopped smiling and her brows knitted together again. “Are they dangerous, Harry?” she
asked worriedly for a second time.

“Not all of them,” Harry replied casually. When it came to danger, Harry seemed to take it with
ease, easier than any other problems. “Only a few are a real threat; most are nothing more than a
bunch of wizards and witches who crave Dark magic but are unable to perform it themselves.”

Hermione had never heard Harry say things like that about anyone before; his voice had even a
hint of amazement over the whole prospect.

Her frown deepened. “Even though you must be careful, don't underestimate them.
Promise?”

Tightening his grip on her hands, he said, “I promise, Hermione, besides I don't have to
face them alone, unlike with Voldemort.” He grinned at her. “There are other Aurors and some staff
from the French Ministry of Magic who are very capable fighters, so don't worry, Hermione.”

“I can't help it, Harry,” Hermione protested. “Whenever you face danger I can't help but
worried about your welfare; you seem to be the one who always attracts danger.”

“Can't help it, huh?” asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. “But who was the one leaving me to
face danger alone for five years?”

Hermione bit her bottom lip; he sound genuinely hurt, but when she looked at his face he was
smiling at her, no trace of hurt or sad at all. “It was for you own good,” was all she said.

“Now, can I see Agnes? Where is she? I've missed her an awful lot.”

“Dobby is feeding her, I guess,” said Harry, “do you want to go to your room first?”

“No, I trust Dobby has arranged it all right. I want to see Agnes.” Hermione stood up. “Will you
accompany me to see your daughter?”

“Of course,” he replied and held out his hand for her to take. The two left the table to make
their way to the noisy nursery.

***

*A/N:* Thanks to: water mellon, Lady Starlight, Shellbell18, Sabrina Potter - Brazil,
scorpio-1983, Tywyn, Coolone007, Angie, diggingupophelia, Athena Hermione Riddle, jchaser,
WriterLady1031, izzieq, Chancellor, kpxiceboi, spaz141, pottergranny, Lunar Ecliqse, star hh5,
Adriele, harryhermionecheerleader, LordIluvatar, Eleanna, Mani12191, Amdorn, Austenlover, willlow,
abraxas, Kalina Malia, SakuraEtrnl, Jillian84, ginnymalfoy21, kiwibee, Harryluvr, Plum Blossoms,
sweetie513, Courtney119, Mani12191, pwu, sverreault, Creepy Susie, MrsDanielRadcliffe, tabitoo,
Sorrentomoon, Harry&Hermione4ever, Alorkin, Izabel, Wytil, September, XxBandGeekxX, Nakhash
Mekashefah, pottergranny, mae513, twistedthoughts, Darkassasinsaint, Romps, SweetMemories, Victoria
Tonks, shawnpickett, zoeii, markwirez, Rachel A. Prongs, HarryWouldBeAPaladin, Harry and Orlando,
Danielle, laurie100117, whichwitch609, Lara, HPFAN1, (for FF.net) Michail A.C, Jameela, Hiscefit,
Egla, Aguia8522005, Canada's finest, Princess Shadowcat, Openspy, Phelps-Lover, Gobstopper,
century-girl320, twinsies, Tk Macintosh, samarakerina and many of you who don't want to be
known!

-->



8. Chapter 8
------------



**Chapter 8**

*******

**Disclaimer:** Well, you should know by now that they're not mine :( and never will be.
JKR's own them.

**A/N:** I'm sooo very sooory my dear readers. I didn't mean to keep you waiting this
long. It's just that real life is getting very tough for me. I hope you still like to read this
fic and give me reviews which I promise to read all.:)

My thanks to my dear beta, Nakhash. She is a great beta reader. Thank you all readers and
reviewers. I appreciate it a lot.

**Nari:** I hope this chapter answers your question.

**John:** Thanks for telling me the truth. No offense is taken. I will try my best to see
fit.

Thanks you all again and hope you enjoy this chapter!

***

There was an earsplitting cry coming from the nursery, which was followed by a loud thud.
Hermione looked quickly at Harry and saw that he, too, was wearing the same questioning expression
on his face. The two quickened their stride in order to reach the door sooner. Harry pushed open
the door and hurried inside. Hermione entered the room just a second later. She bumped into Harry
from behind as he abruptly stopped in mid stride. Hermione looked up and saw a sight she was sure
neither of them had expected.

Harry rushed to Agnes' bed and gathered the still crying baby into his arms. Hermione turned
to look at Dobby, who was lying on the floor. His hat was burnt black.

“What happened? Are you okay?” asked Hermione, helping him to his feet. “Is Agnes all right,
Harry?”

“She looks all right,” answered Harry, rocking his child back and forth, “she's more shocked
than anything, I think.” He turned to inspect the very frightened house-elf. “Dobby?”

Still looking terrified, the elf stammered, “D-Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter.” His eyes dampened
with tears. “Dobby doesn't mean to hurt M-Miss Agnes, Dobby is sorry; he is a b-bad elf, a very
bad elf.” He burst into hysterical weeping and ran over to the wall, hitting his head on it
rapidly.

Agnes, who had quieted down just moments before, started crying again. Harry hugged her even
more tightly. Hermione hurried to Dobby's side to stop him from punishing himself further.

“Stop, Dobby!” cried Harry with a hint of anger in his voice. Dobby stopped; he whirled around
but did not look at either Harry or Hermione.

“Dobby, it's all right,” said Hermione softly, “no harm was done, just tell us what
happened, please.”

The elf looked up at Harry. “Dobby does not know what happened, Harry Potter,” said the elf.

“What do you mean?” inquired Hermione, incredulously.

“Yes, Dobby, don't worry, I'm not angry with you, just tell me the truth,” said
Harry.

Agnes stirred in Harry's arms and struggled to pull herself from his tender grip. She looked
at Dobby with her huge hazel eyes, as if waiting for him to speak.

Dobby said nervously, “Dobby does not know; Dobby is getting little Miss to wash up, but Miss is
not wanting to go. Miss Agnes wants to play, but Dobby needs to get Miss to bathe so Miss can meet
her father in the living room.”

He looked at Agnes even more nervously before continuing. “Dobby tries to stop Miss from playing
then-then Miss Agnes cries very loudly, and Dobby gets himself thrown on the floor and his lovely
hat is all burnt up.” He finished by patting his damaged hat sadly.

“Are you sure that no one else was here?” asked Harry, frowning.

“No, no, Harry Potter,” the elf said fearfully and shook its head.

Hermione took a few steps closer to Harry and Agnes. She glanced around the room. The windows
were neatly closed; there wasn't any indication that someone had broken in, and it was
impossible for someone to have Apparated in. She looked at Harry and saw that he was also thinking
along the same lines.

*There's only one possibility, then*, thought Hermione. She gazed down at the little
girl in Harry's arms. Agnes' big, innocent hazel eyes looked back at her. Hermione saw a
glint of recognition in those depths. The girl's red lips curled into a small smile and
Hermione smiled back.

“I think I know who did it, now,” said Hermione in a whisper.

“Yeah, she's the one,” replied Harry in a low but excited voice.

Her head snapped up and she saw that Harry was looking at her. Before she could say anything,
Dobby's voice interrupted in confusion. “What is it, Harry Potter, Miss Hermione? Is little
Miss Agnes all right?” His enormous eyes filled with tears again.

Hermione turned to the poor house-elf. “Don't worry, Dobby,” she assured the elf again,
“there's nothing wrong; in fact, it's a wonderful thing, Dobby. Agnes has just started
showing her magical ability.”

It took a few second for Dobby to take in the news, but when he did, the elf squealed in delight
and jumped up and down. Hermione beamed brightly, even more so when she saw the pride shining in
Harry's eyes.

Harry cleared his throat. “Well, I think it's time for you to take your bath now,” said
Harry softly to his child, the smile never leaving his lips. Agnes cuddled closer to her father but
tilted her head a little to look at him, as if annoyed; it made Harry chuckle. “You want to burn me
too, you little witch?” he asked endearingly. Agnes let out a small sound of protest as Harry
handed her to Dobby, but nothing more happened.

Hermione followed the exchange between father and daughter. She was glad that Harry was much
more relaxed with Agnes, and she told him so as they retreated back to the living room.

“Do you think it's dangerous that Agnes has started showing her magical ability at this
young age?” inquired Harry.

“Well … not yet properly three years old can be a little early,” answered Hermione, after some
thought, “and she's very powerful, too, I can tell.”

Sitting on the couch, Harry sighed. “I'm starting to doubt my decision to go to France,
now,” he told her quietly.

Hermione looked up, a little startled. “Harry, don't worry so much,” she said. “It's
natural for a witch or wizard that is not a Squib to do things like that, there's nothing to
worry about.”

“I want to be near her, to look after her,” he went on sadly. “I want to be there to explain the
strange things that she accidentally causes.”

Hermione smiled a little. She reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly in a comforting
motion. “I understand, Harry, but it's not as if you're going to be gone long. Agnes will
be fine with me. It's ok, trust me.”

“Of course I trust you,” he said. He gave her a small smile and covered their joined ones with
his free one. “I was just being weak, that's all,” he said.

“No, you're not,” replied Hermione instantly, giving him a disapproving look. “Don't
talk about yourself like that,” she went on seriously. “It's a father's instinct to want to
protect his child. You're not weak, Harry.” She tightened her grip on his hand.

“Go on and fulfill your duty,” Hermione spoke again after a brief moment of silence passed.
“I'll keep a watchful eye on her.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” said Harry. “It will be difficult for you do your own work and have any
free time. I feel terrible about that.”

“It's not that bad,” answered Hermione cheerfully. “I like to keep busy. Never doubt my
abilities. I'll manage it all right.”

Harry did not reply. He only smiled weakly and squeezed her hand. Hermione felt warm inside
seeing Harry's smile.

***

The time for Harry to leave came at last. Hermione held Agnes' hand while standing by his
bedroom door, waiting for Harry to finish shrinking his trunks.

“Harry, I have one more thing to ask your permission for,” said Hermione, when Harry had put the
last shrunken box into his pocket. “I was wondering if you would mind me taking Agnes to see Ron or
Ginny, or to the Burrow or maybe to my parents' house.”

“No, Hermione,” answered Harry, picking Agnes up when the girl tottered to her father and pulled
at his robes insistently. “It would be great for Agnes to see other people and other parts of both
the Muggle and Wizarding world.” He sighed. “I'm a very bad father,” he went on slowly, gazing
into Agnes' hazel eyes. “I've never taken her anywhere at all since, since … forever.” He
shook his head sadly.

They walked from Harry's room to the main door. “Don't worry, Harry,” Hermione began,
“everything will be just fine when you get back.”

“Thank you so much, Hermione,” said Harry, “you're wonderful!”

Hermione smiled, holding out her hands for Agnes when they reached the door. The girl clung more
closely to her father. “Come on, Agnes, Daddy has to go to work, dear,” cooed Hermione.

“I'm going to Apparate to the Ministry first then take the Portkey to France,” explained
Harry. He patted Agnes on the head and kissed her lovingly on both cheeks. “Be a good girl,
darling,” he said softly and hugged his child tightly to his chest. Agnes cuddled closer and gave
an unintelligible noise, which sounded like “Daddy.”

Hermione felt tears prickle the back of her eyes, but she tried hard not to give in. She stepped
closer to the pair and wrapped her arms around them. For a few seconds, they stayed in the same
position, but Agnes started to stir, like any small child when held still too long.

“All right, I'll leave you girls, now,” said Harry, breaking the embrace and handing Agnes
to Hermione. She didn't protest, but rested her head on Hermione's chest, seeming to be
falling asleep. Harry looked sadly at his child. “Hermione, thank you again for offering to take
care of her,” he repeated.

“I'm happy to help you, Harry,” answered Hermione with an assuring smile as she patted
Agnes' small back, lulling her deeper into sleep.

Harry took a step closer to Hermione and leaned in to kiss her. It was only a quick peck on the
cheek, but it left Hermione slightly off-kilter, especially when he pulled back and she saw his
eyes looking sharply at her - her mouth to be exact. Hermione looked back at him, stunned at first,
then her eyes shifted to his mouth. The memory of their kiss, a few nights before, came back to
her. She didn't know what possessed her, but she closed the distance between them and gave him
a chaste kiss on the lips. As quickly as it happened, she pulled back and turned away. “Good luck,
Harry,” she said as she walked back into the house with the sleeping Agnes in her arms.

***

True to her word, Hermione took excellent care of Agnes. She also started slowly writing her
book. Usually she wrote at night or when Agnes was napping, but when the girl was awake, she looked
after her, mostly by herself.

Harry had been away for five days. Hermione had received a letter from him when he arrived, but
after that, there were no more owl posts from him. She assumed that he must be very busy.

A week later, Hermione took Agnes to the see Ginny Malfoy. She let the girl play with Joey,
Ginny and Draco's son, under Draco's supervision. She told him to keep a close eye on Agnes
because she might show her magical ability and put both herself and Joey in danger.

Hermione and Ginny went upstairs to the drawing room where the witches could talk privately.
When they arrived at the large, expensively furnished room, Hermione helped Ginny to sit on the
couch. It had become a little difficult for her to move around quickly now that her pregnancy was
so advanced.

Ginny summoned some tea for them as Hermione started to talk. “You know that Harry is in
France?” asked Hermione.

“Yes, Draco told me after Harry left,” the younger witch answered, while pouring them both some
tea.

“Do you think it's dangerous, this mission?” inquired Hermione, furrowing her brows as she
tasted the bitter liquid Ginny gave her.

“No. I don't think it's as dangerous as facing Voldemort,” Ginny replied casually.

“That was what Harry said,” replied Hermione, recalling the talk she had with him before he
left. Hermione felt so unsure of herself. It was as if she was being overly concerned, but how
could she not be worried about her friend? Even when she had been away, living an independent life
with few friends, least of all close friends, she was still the same Hermione: the Hermione who
would worry about her friends' homework, the Hermione who was watchful of her friends'
well-being.

She had missed Harry badly these last few days, more than during the five years she was away,
and she couldn't figure out the reason why. Maybe Agnes was too constant a reminder of him, or
maybe it was the fact that she was now thinking of Harry as more than a platonic friend, now.
Hermione scowled at herself. *Why am I thinking of Harry as more than just a platonic
friend?*

“Hermione?” said a voice, pulling Hermione from her train of thought. Coming back to reality,
Hermione realized that she had spend the last five minutes debating with herself, leaving her
friend staring at her worriedly.

“Are you all right, Hermione?” asked Ginny with concern.

Hermione nodded her head. “I'm all right, Gin.” She smiled at Ginny, who was still looking
at her doubtfully.

“Are you sure? You stared at the same point for so long,” said Ginny, trying to get Hermione to
tell her the truth. “What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing - nothing at all,” Hermione stuttered. How could she tell Ginny about her thoughts?
They were so muddled!

Narrowing her eyes, Ginny gave her friend a suspicious look. “There's something going on
between you and Harry, right?” asked Ginny, but she didn't wait for Hermione to reply, she went
on, “You two are getting closer, Hermione, and all of us want to see you two happy, so if there is
something I can help you with, please just tell me.”

Hermione sighed heavily. “I don't know, Ginny,” said Hermione weakly, “everything is so
confused. I- I think I'm attracted to Harry, now.” She put her head in her hands, afraid to see
the shocked look on Ginny's face that she was sure was there.

“I don't think it's really such a bad thing,” said Ginny, after a few seconds of
silence.

Hermione's head shot up, a look of shock and disbelieve clearly written on her face.

“You don't know what you're talking about, Ginny Wea- Malfoy!” said Hermione tightly.
“I'm telling you that I am developing feelings for a man who is my best friend, and who is
already married, and you're telling me it's not a bad idea - why?”

Ginny raised an eyebrow but her face held a serious expression. “I can understand what
you're thinking,” she said then paused, considering her next words carefully. “Hermione,
you're a smart woman and a very thoughtful friend, but sometimes you can be so hard on
yourself.”

“And what, pray tell, does that mean?” said Hermione, a little irritably.

Ginny sighed. “No offense, Hermione, but think about it: people are allowed to be a little
selfish sometimes, aren't they?”

“I still don't get what you mean, Ginny,” said Hermione warily. She did get what Ginny was
hinting at, but fear of the idea was still keeping her from acknowledging it.

“What I mean is that, if you and Harry do have a feelings for each other, which I don't
doubt is true,” said Ginny bluntly, “why don't you try to work things out?”

Hermione looked at Ginny, speechless. *She didn't mean it, did she?* she asked herself.
“How can you say that, Ginny?” said Hermione, after finding her voice. “Harry is a *married
man* with a child, and Cho, Harry's *wife*, is our friend, is she not?” Hermione hoped
that her voice sounded convincing enough, because deep down the words Ginny spoke had already
jolted her and was threatening to cause her mind to rebel.

“That's a problem to be solved by you two,” said Ginny calmly. “There's no ignoring it.
You know quite well what the problems are. The only real difficulty is the fact that you two are
best friends, and when someone's that close to us, it can make choices more difficult, but
think about it, Hermione, there's nothing more important than your happiness. You know that you
won't be able to be happy with anyone but Harry and vice versa. Don't deny it,” added Ginny
as she saw the look of protest on Hermione's face. She went on, “It can't be that bad; why
don't you give it a go?”

“What if Cho comes back?” asked Hermione in a small voice. She didn't feel like herself at
all, having this kind of a talk with Ginny. Hermione Granger, the know-it-all of Hogwarts, could be
quite stupid when it came to matters in the heart department. It was almost ironic.

“It doesn't really matter, Hermione,” said Ginny, almost relieved that somehow her words had
had some effect on Hermione.

“How could it not matter?” Hermione whispered, hopelessly. “I can't steal someone's
husband, let alone my own friend's.” Tears slid down her cheeks. Hermione was angry with
herself for not being able to control her own heart, now that it was obvious her heart was yearning
for Harry. She could no longer deny it.

Ginny came round to sit next to Hermione and gathered the sobbing witch in her arms. Hermione
allowed the tears of frustration and long-denied feelings to come out. The moment faltered on until
Hermione calmed down. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and looked up at Ginny, but
the younger witch shook her head. “Things are not as bad as you think, Hermione,” she said in a
motherly tone, “sometimes you need to take a step back, and then you'll see that the answer is
quite easy. Even if we're witches, we don't live forever, so you have to treasure what you
have and the take the opportunity to go after what you want.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione, smiling, then she added playfully, “you're a real mother,
Gin.”

“It's real life experience,” she said, stroking her bulging stomach. “I've learned a
lot.”

***

Later that evening, Hermione and Agnes returned home. Dobby was already busily preparing dinner,
even though Hermione had told him not to bother because they might eat with Ginny.

Hermione had a bit of sausage for dinner; somehow, she didn't feel like eating at all.
Whenever she looked at the food, all she could do was sigh or move it about her plate. Ginny's
words kept returning to her jumbled mind, and the more she thought about it, the more sense it
made. Finally, Hermione decided she'd had enough thinking for the day and went up to the
nursery where Dobby was trying to get Agnes to bed.

The girl was tired from the day's activities, but as stubborn as she was, she tried to fight
Dobby and refused to go to bed. Hermione played with her for about half an hour then sang her a
song to lull her to sleep. Finally, Agnes was peacefully asleep, so Hermione went back to her own
room. She got her parchment and quill out, intending to continue writing her book, but after about
an hour, Hermione still was unable to concentrate. She gave up and fell into restless sleep.

One week, and then another; still Hermione heard nothing from Harry. She began to feel troubled,
but didn't want to overreact. She kept her worries to herself and continued her life with
Agnes, as usual.

On Sunday evening, the fourth week, Hermione was taking Agnes for a walk outside in the garden
when Ronald Weasley turned up.

“Hi, `Mione!” Ron called from afar.

“Hey, Ron!” said Hermione delightedly. “How are you?”

Agnes tottered back to Hermione and extended her hand for support. The older witch heaved the
girl up and walked over to her old friend.

“Great, I'm just back from a Quidditch trip,” answered Ron, “how about you and Agnes?
She's not a troublemaker like her father, is she?” Ron grinned wickedly and Agnes, who was
clutching to Hermione, appeared to take offense at the redheaded wizard's words.

Hermione chuckled softly. “Nah, she's a good girl, Ron,” said Hermione. “How's
Luna?”

“She's fine,” replied Ron. He craned his neck and looked around. “Where's Harry?”

“He's in France, didn't you know?” said Hermione.

“Yes, but I think he's back now,” responded Ron. “I saw David, who was one of the Aurors on
mission in France, just fifteen minutes ago; that's why I thought Harry would be home by
now.”

Hermione's brows knitted together as her brain started to think of any logical reason for
Harry's absence. But the fact that she had not heard from Harry in all this time made it hard
for her to not worry.

“Are you sure, Ron, that this David has been to France and is back now?” asked Hermione sharply,
hugging Agnes to her even more tightly.

“Yes, Dad told me David was going the day after they left,” said Ron; he too sounded
worried.

“I want to go to the Ministry of Magic,” stated Hermione suddenly.

“But it's Sunday,” Ron told her. “Don't jump to conclusions too quickly, Hermione. We
all know that Harry is quite capable of protecting himself; besides, if something bad had happened
someone would have informed you and the press, don't forget.”

They fell into silence. It was the second time now that Hermione felt like an immature child in
front of her friends. How unlike her! Hermione thought irritably. Maybe she did need to learn about
real life and not just what was in a book.

“Okay, Ron,” said Hermione finally, “maybe tomorrow, if Harry still doesn't turn up, we can
go to the Ministry.”

“Yeah, that would be good. I'll go with you, Hermione,” said Ron, and he leaned down to kiss
both Hermione and Agnes on the cheek before saying goodbye to the two witches.

***

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