Chapter 1722 - Ch: 10-12

Chapter 10

For ten years, summer for Harry Potter meant hiding in bushes from his cousin Dudley and his gang of sadistic sycophants. Summer meant walking alone in the fresh air while other kids his age went to the pool or the movies or the mall while he roamed empty streets and playgrounds, accompanied only by his thoughts. Summer, in short, sucked for Harry Potter.

'Not anymore.' He thought to himself as he strolled through Sapphire Park – a gorgeous area within walking distance of the Granger residence. He couldn't help but widen his smile as he passed a family walking their dog. A year ago, the sight of a happy family would have been agonizing, serving as a cruel reminder of what he had to endure. But today, it only increased his happiness.

Harry hadn't stopped smiling since he'd entered the park an hour earlier. The warm weather, the cloudless sky, the rolling green fields bordering a beautiful pond, everything was going exceptionally well.

'Oh, and Hermione happens to be holding your hand.' His inner voice whispered. Harry looked down at his left hand and felt his body warm up at the sight of his bushy-haired friend's fingers intertwined with his own. The moment the front door had closed behind them that morning, Hermione had grabbed him by the hand and briskly walked towards their destination, recounting all kinds of happy memories she had from Sapphire Park – riding her bike, fishing with her dad in the pond (unsuccessfully), and learning to throw a Frisbee, among other things.

She'd been rambling about how much she loved the park for the entire hour they'd been walking, and as much as Harry enjoyed hearing Hermione's passionate rants, he'd started to zone out and take in his surroundings a bit more. He was fascinated by a nearby family walking their golden retriever, by two teenagers kicking a football back and forth, and by a man and woman having a picnic on the rolling green field ahead of them. Harry felt light as a feather as he continued along the meandering footpath near the pond.

"Harry? Are you listening?"

He turned his head, his train of thought vanishing into thin air as he locked eyes with Hermione and smiled at her.

"Sorry, what did you say?" He asked innocently. Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Clearly you're enjoying the park…" She smirked as she led him to a park bench. "Right? You're having a good time?" She asked anxiously, turning sideways in her seat so she could face him. Harry nodded eagerly.

"It's amazing. Everyone here is so happy, and it's just so pretty. It's all…amazing." Harry grinned as he looked around.

"Brilliant!" She said. "I felt bad about dragging you to the library each of the last few days – mum suggested I take you here since it's so nice out." Hermione explained.

"This was your mother's idea?" Harry asked, surprised. Hermione nodded, turning to face the pond in front of them.

"At first I thought she wanted all of us to go, but she insisted I take you here, just the two of us. At least for the first time." She answered matter-of-factly. Harry nodded absentmindedly as she continued. "There's an ice cream truck that usually comes around here at two-thirty. I figured we could grab something from there and head back home. Mum and dad wanted to take us shopping at the mall later."

"Shopping?" He asked uncertainly. "For what?"

"Clothes, Harry. We're going clothes shopping. We might pop into some other types of stores, but we are definitely upgrading your wardrobe, mister. Have you ever purchased anything for yourself to wear that wasn't our school uniform?" Hermione asked, gesturing to Harry's baggy T-shirt. Harry shrugged, his eyes darting to the ground. He felt Hermione nudge his arm good-naturedly. "Buying yourself clothes you like is the best feeling in the world Harry, you're going to love it."

"You really associate the best feeling in the world with clothes? Not books? Who are you and what did you do to Hermione Granger?" Harry laughed, nudging her back. Hermione huffed sarcastically.

"Very funny, Harry Potter. Truly, utterly hilarious." She bit her lip in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her smile. She turned back towards the pond with her arms crossed. "I'm just saying, you'll enjoy yourself. And I wouldn't mind seeing you in clothes that fit." She added, then quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. "I just – I just meant, you know, because you're always wearing such baggy clothes – you know, it'd be nice to see you wear something your size. That's all."

Harry tilted his head perplexedly, not sure if there could be any other meaning. Judging by Hermione's flustered reaction there was, but it was beyond him. He shrugged and turned to face the pond, excited about finally getting some new clothes. The pair admired the natural beauty in front of them for a few minutes before they heard a faint music ring out across the park. Hermione eagerly jumped to her feet and grabbed Harry's hand once again, yanking him up and dashing towards the sound. Harry could barely keep up but didn't stop grinning as the two ran along, eliciting all kinds of smiles and laughter from everyone they passed.

"How adorable…" Harry heard a woman chuckle as the two of them passed a cluster of picnic tables.

"So sweet!" Laughed another as they ran through a pavilion.

"Just like us when we were younger, right dear?" A man laughed as they sprinted past a couple on a park bench. Harry almost stopped dead in his tracks when he heard that, but a ferocious pull from his brown-eyed friend sent him stumbling along.

"Here we are!" Hermione squealed as they joined the line of people eagerly awaiting their sweet treats. Harry laced his fingers on top of his head as he gasped for breath, while Hermione panted with her hands on her hips. Despite their exhaustion, the two beamed at each other and didn't stop until they arrived at the window.

"What'll it be, chaps?" The driver asked with a grin. Hermione ordered them two mint chip cones and the duo quickly found a picnic table nearby, sitting across from each other and sharing occasional smiles as they went in on their ice cream.

"Thank you, Hermione, that was delicious!" Harry said upon finishing his. "I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything, Harry, it's what friends do." Hermione responded, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"No, really. Once Gringotts writes me back about getting some of my money sent back in muggle currency – "

"Harry, really. Don't worry about it. Ready to head back?" Hermione asked, standing up.

Harry nodded, slowly getting to his feet. Hermione held her and out this time, not aggressively grabbing it and pulling him along. Harry took it with a shy smile and the two began a leisurely stroll back to the Grangers' house. They meandered through the pavilions, past the picnic tables, along the lake, and past their park bench, passing all kinds of pleasant people.

'I'm going to pay Hermione back. Hermione and her parents.' Harry kept thinking to himself as they walked along. On one of the first days of the summer holiday, he'd written to Gringotts asking if there was any way he could have a portion of his significant wealth withdrawn and sent to him in the form of muggle currency. Despite Hermione and her parents constantly telling him he didn't have to worry about paying them back for anything, he had to find some way to compensate the Grangers for their kindness. After Harry sent the letter, Hedwig had returned the next day with a hastily scrawled note only reading that he'd receive a formal answer in the near future.

Hedwig had seemed particularly disgruntled, and Harry was surprised the note lacked any official markings from the Wizarding World's most prominent bank, but he'd shrugged it off. Now, it was almost a week later and he'd heard nothing. He sighed, hoping he'd hear back soon enough.

The two continued their stroll, hand-in-hand, until they arrived back at Hermione's house. Hermione nervously pulled her hand away to wipe her brow before opening the front door, and Harry found himself looking at his empty hand in a daze as they entered.

"Welcome back, you two! Harry, how'd you like the park?" Mrs. Granger asked, putting down the book she had been reading.

"It was brilliant! Really, really brilliant. Everyone there was so nice, and the pond is beautiful!" Harry grinned, much to Mrs. Granger's delight.

"Wonderful! Did Hermione tell you our plan for the rest of the day?" She stood, guiding them into the kitchen. He nodded, and made eye contact with Mr. Granger, who was washing his coffee mug out at the sink. He sent Harry a wink before setting the mug down.

"It'll be a blast, Harry. Going to the mall with these ladies is always an adventure." He grinned, earning himself a playful swat on the shoulder from his wife.

"Sarcasm doesn't look good on you, dear." She giggled. "Anyway," she continued, "we'll head out in about fifteen minutes, so don't get too comfortable!" The pair nodded in acknowledgement, and Hermione quickly dashed up the stairs, beckoning Harry to follow before disappearing to the second floor.

"I should, uh – "

"Go on, sweetheart." Mrs. Granger smirked. Mr. Granger suddenly found his coffee mug to be the most fascinating object in the world. Harry felt his cheeks warm up a bit before following his best friend upstairs.

He made his way down the corridor towards his and Hermione's rooms. Hermione poked her head out of her room and yanked him inside before slamming the door shut.

"Hermione, what are you – "

"Hush, this is important." She hissed, glancing at her door before sitting on the edge of her bed. Harry remained standing, crossing his arms. "My parents' anniversary is this Wednesday, and I was wondering if you'd help me get them a gift today." She said, pointing at the calendar on her wall. Harry nodded eagerly as he wandered over to it, flipping it up a page to see Mum & Dad's Anny. scrawled across the square marked July 1st.

"Of course I'll help with the gift. June 1st, that's a pretty date…" Harry mused, and couldn't help but glance at the rest of July, since June was practically over. He saw all kinds of reminders to study and go to the library ('Makes sense.' He thought to himself) until he got to the very last square, with two words and a heart written on it. "You remembered my birthday…" He whispered quietly, turning back to Hermione.

"Of course I remembered your birthday, Harry." She smiled softly. "What kind of friend would I be if I forgot?"

"Yeah, but I only mentioned it the one time, on the train to Hogwarts…" He trailed off.

"Well, do you remember my birthday?" She asked pointedly.

"September 19th." He responded automatically.

"See? I only told it to you once and you still remembered it. You even gave me that sweet card with the Flourish and Blotts gift voucher and you'd only known me for two weeks." She smiled fondly at the memory. "Harry, this is what friends do."

Harry felt his eyes grow hot from tears threatening to spill out, so he managed a quiet thank you and excused himself to his room to get ready. Hermione nodded in silent understanding. He slipped out to the hallway and into his room, wiping his eyes.

He'd had one person wish him happy birthday, ever, and that was Hagrid upon his unexpected arrival last summer. Now, he was going to spend his birthday with a true friend that remembered it. He found himself shaking his head as he calmed down, once again wondering if this was all too good to be true. A friendly knock from Mr. Granger asking if he was ready to go informed him that it was, in fact, all very real.

Mr. Granger gingerly wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders as they made their way downstairs. Harry bristled a bit but didn't recoil.

"Listen, Harry, while we're out today I'm going to bail you out of spending the entire time with those two lunatics." He whispered, leaning in close so Hermione and her mother didn't hear any of their conversation. "I suspect you're in need of some sharper clothes, and I know this mall has a few places happy to oblige. How about I help you dress to impress?" He smiled. Harry nodded, realizing his wardrobe was rather lackluster, considering it was all hand-me-downs from the absurdly overweight Dudley Dursley. Mr. Granger, on the other hand, always dressed quite neatly, even on days where he didn't have to work. Harry had to admit the prospect of clothes like that was quite an enticing upgrade over the baggy jumpers and sweatpants he was stuck with.

"Thank you, sir, that's really nice of you." He grinned, surprised at the sincerity and kindness from Hermione's father.

"Ah, don't mention it." He replied with a smile of his own as the two arrived at the car, where Hermione and Mrs. Granger were waiting expectantly. "Showtime!" He called out as he climbed into the driver's seat.

As the car cruised along, Hermione handed Harry a piece of paper filled top to bottom with her tiny handwriting. He raised an eyebrow as he took it and scanned over the contents.

"Is this some kind of study guide?"

"Ha-ha, very funny, Harry Potter." She huffed. "It's a list of all the stores in the mall, with little descriptions about what they sell. Hopefully this prevents you from wandering into something like Victoria's Secret." She smirked.

"Is that like a makeup store or something?" Harry asked as he scanned the paper, earning some barely-stifled giggles from the ladies in the car. "Oh!" He cried out in shock as he found the store description on Hermione's cheat sheet. "OH!" He exclaimed again, his face a mix of shock and disgust.

"You two are cruel…" Mr. Granger muttered, catching Harry's eye in the rearview mirror. "Don't worry, Harry, I'll make sure they don't subject you to the horrors of places like that." He winked.

Harry gave him a grateful smile as he continued reading over the paper Hermione wrote for him. He found a pen on the floor of the backseat and underlined a few stores that piqued his interest, much to his bushy-haired friend's delight. He asked her a few questions about what she had written, and the two conversed quietly until the Jaguar pulled into their parking spot.

Harry found it difficult to subdue his amazement at the ornate features of the mall as they entered – the pristine white walls, the marble floors, the luxury cars on display in the middle of everything, it was like he'd entered a completely different world. He could have stood there, hands on his hips, gazing around in fascination for hours if he didn't feel a tug on his shirt. He turned to see an overjoyed Hermione pulling him towards one of the stores he'd underlined: J. Crew.

The four of them split by gender as they explored the shop. Harry must have tried on dozens of different items, and Mr. Granger gave him feedback on every one.

"A bit long, it looks like." He muttered as Harry exited his dressing room wearing a new pair of khaki pants.

"Too tight. Good lord, Harry, can you even breathe?" He asked with a laugh when Harry walked out in a button-down shirt that was clearly a size or three too small. But more often than not, his feedback was encouraging.

"Perfect!" He grinned when Harry strolled out wearing a pair of well-fitting black jeans.

"Goes well with your eyes, doesn't it?" He asked when Harry tried on a green sweater. Harry nodded sheepishly.

"Girls are gonna like that outfit, I can tell you that." He gave a playful smile as Harry showed him a white dress shirt paired with a black and blue striped tie. Harry blushed a bit and added it to his pile of clothes that had earned the Dan Granger seal of approval. When Harry tried on the last article of clothing he'd opted to pull off the hangers – a gray Henley shirt with long sleeves that he particularly liked – he noticed the size of the pile.

"Mr. Granger, this is way too much." Harry stammered as Mr. Granger began carrying all his clothes towards the register. "Stop, really, I can't ask you to buy me all of this – "

"Then don't." The dentist responded with a wink, cutting off anything the boy wizard might have had to say. He paid quickly, and Harry watched in stunned silence as his host grabbed the bags of his new clothes and handed some of them to him. "Let's see what kind of a ruckus our cohort is causing. Ah, there they are." He smiled as he caught sight of Mrs. Granger applauding Hermione, who had just walked out of a dressing room in a pale blue blouse. "They get very into it whenever we go shopping. Hermione's not big on appearance-related stuff for a girl her age but she loves to go shopping. You should probably write that down." He smirked. Harry stood in silent confusion, then realized Mr. Granger was just messing with him again, and let out a laugh.

'I have got to get used to this dynamic…' He thought to himself as the two of them strode over to the other duo.

"Well, you two have been busy!" Mrs. Granger beamed as they approached, eyeing the bags they carried. "Hermione here was just trying on some summer outfits before we checked out. What do you think?" She asked, casting an eager glance at Harry.

He turned to Hermione and felt his heart slow to a standstill. Hermione's blouse was far and away more eye-catching than anything he'd ever seen her wear, but between her Hogwarts robes and the plain jumpers she'd worn for the past week and a half that wasn't saying much. He especially found himself intrigued by the color – the periwinkle hue looked wonderful on her pale skin.

"It's a really nice color!" He managed, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I like it." He added for good measure. Both Granger women beamed at him, and he caught Hermione's father rolling his eyes.

"Don't rope the poor boy into your extravaganza, Jean." He sighed, earning a giggle from his wife. "Come on then, let's see what kind of damage you lot caused."

Hermione raced back into her dressing room to change into her regular clothes before returning, handing the blouse to her mother. She stood next to Harry as they waited near the front of the store for her parents to pay for what they'd selected.

"Can I see what you got?" She asked, turning her eyes to the bags in Harry's hands. He nodded, quickly setting them down and pulling out a few of the shirts he and Mr. Granger had picked out. "Ooh, I like this one! I bet it goes nice with that tie…" She said when he pulled out his white dress shirt, reaching in and pulling out his new blue and black tie. Harry felt his cheeks grow a bit warm as he remembered Mr. Granger's comment but kept his mouth shut.

"Ready, kids?" The dentists asked in unison as they joined the children. The pair nodded and Harry picked up his bags eagerly. The four of them marched out of J. Crew and proceeded to roll through store after store. Harry enjoyed the sportier shops in particular, like Primark – where he got a new black hoodie that he instantly fell in love with – and JD Sports, where Mr. Granger insisted on buying him some new trainers, so he picked out some sleek-looking Nikes. He chose to ignore Hermione's sarcastic remarks that Quidditch was turning him into a jock as they left another athletic store.

They made quick work of a few other stores, with Hermione selecting some new shoes of her own and a few more outfits. Harry had decided that he'd run up enough of a bill and opted to browse for the remainder of the day. They were in a facial care store and Harry was absentmindedly browsing some moisturizers when Hermione suddenly hurried over to him.

"Hey!" She whispered glancing around in a panic.

"Hey yourself." He replied, lifting a bottle and pretending to read the label.

"So, listen, my parents really love skiing, and we go every winter – "

"And you made fun of me for being a jock…" He muttered distractedly as he put down the bottle and picked up another one.

"Oh, hush, you! Anyway, I was thinking we could get them new ski jackets as an anniversary gift. I'll get one for my mum, you get one for my dad. How does that sound?" She asked. Harry sighed, glancing anxiously at his best friend.

"I think it's a brilliant idea, Hermione…" He paused and let her squeak in excitement. "…but I think your dad's just starting to like me. Like, not just tolerating me, but enjoying being around me. I don't want to mess it up by getting him an ugly skiing jacket." He mumbled dejectedly.

"Harry!" Hermione swatted him on the arm hard enough to make him wince. "My dad is quite the fan of you, he always has been. Since the moment he met you, really. I personally think it's the whole Quidditch and rugby thing, but I digress." Harry rolled his eyes but didn't interrupt. "The point is, you're not going to muck up your relationship with my father over a single jacket. And I doubt you're going to pick out something ugly anyways. If it's something egregious I'll step in before you buy it, how does that sound?"

Harry managed a nod, then gestured subtly to Hermione's approaching parents. They quickly engrossed themselves in the moisturizer bottles in front of them until the dentists approached.

"You two ready?" Mrs. Granger asked, trying to adjust the plethora of bags that lined each of her arms. The pair nodded.

"Actually mum, Harry and I were wondering if we could go browsing for some new bags for school. That way you guys can go shopping for some boring adult stuff on your own for a bit." Hermione smiled slyly, throwing Harry a mischievous glance. Her parents simply laughed, sharing an amused glance before turning back to the kids.

"Fair enough. We'll be at the boring cookware store and you two can wander off for a little bit and get whatever you need. How about we meet at the food court in half an hour?" Mrs. Granger answered, checking her watch – which was quite the feat considering she was holding almost a dozen shopping bags.

Harry and Hermione agreed and scampered off towards the ski store they'd passed earlier. Once they were inside, the latter glanced outside for her parents.

"Hermione Granger, you are one saucy girl…" Harry smirked as he began browsing a rack of skiing jackets. "Boring adult stuff, that was pretty good." He mused. He heard his friend squeak in embarrassment before she made herself busy looking through the women's section.

Harry finally pulled out a jacket he found appealing and looked at it closely. It was a sleek shade of black, with gray zippers lining the pockets to match the zipper that ran the length of it. It was a tad thinner than most of the other jackets he'd looked at, but a glance at the tag told him it would keep the wearer warm up to -10 degrees. Harry liked the look of it, compared to the bulkier and flashier jackets he'd looked at this one just seemed…cooler. He ran it by Hermione, who had picked out a similar looking purple jacket, and the two checked out hurriedly, with Hermione paying. Harry made another mental note to write to Gringotts if he didn't hear from them by the end of the month.

Stashing the jackets in one of Harry's J. Crew bags, the pair checked their watches and hustled over to the food court. They met Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were relaxing on a bench just outside the hub of restaurants.

"No luck?" Mr. Granger asked, seeing neither of the two had any new school bags with them.

"Most of them were pretty ugly." Harry grinned, earning some cheerful laughter from the three Grangers. The adults stood up eagerly and made their way over to another store, and the foursome continued their shopping adventure as a group.

After several hours of shopping and introducing Harry to the fantastic world of fast food at the food court – 'You can get a double cheeseburger for one pound?' He thought to himself with fascination as they chowed down – the Grangers made their way out to the parking lot and into the car.

"Well, Harry, I certainly hope you enjoyed yourself. I'm sure my husband did an alright job assisting you in improving your wardrobe a bit." Mrs. Granger sighed as she fastened her seat belt.

"Oh yes, he was a tremendous help. Thank you all so much for today, I had a really great time." He said. All three Grangers offered him smiled at that.

"Glad I could help, Harry. Glad we could help, sorry." Mr. Granger corrected himself following a playful elbow from his wife. "Now let's get ourselves home. Harry, have you ever tried a hot fudge sundae?" When Harry quietly shook his head, the dentist grinned. "Well, don't worry. The way I make them is the only real way to eat them, so it's a good thing I'll be your first."

Harry gave Mr. Granger an appreciative smile as he backed the car out, earning a wink before they started making their way home. Harry looked out the window to watch the shopping mall grow smaller and smaller as they progressed. He caught sight of his reflection and saw he was still smiling.

He didn't stop smiling for the duration of the car ride. He found himself grinning as Mr. Granger walked him through the proper way to make a hot fudge sundae. He snickered as he sprayed a distracted Hermione in the face with whipped cream and even managed to keep smiling as she lobbed a spoonful of vanilla ice cream onto his cheek. He beamed as he ate and talked and laughed with the Grangers for dessert and maintained his smile all the way up the stairs after he excused himself to go to bed once he was finished.

"Harry!" A voice called behind him just as he reached his bedroom door. He turned to see Hermione making her way towards him, which only widened his smile. The two embraced for a moment, and Harry felt his body nearly float off the ground, as it always did when they hugged.

"Good night Hermione." He whispered as she pulled away. He turned to enter his room when he felt a familiar prickle of warmth on his cheek. It was the first kiss on the cheek she'd given him since the first night. He turned in surprise to see a grinning Hermione licking her lips.

"Just as I suspected." She blushed. "Tastes like vanilla. Good night, Harry." She whispered before slipping into her room. Harry touched his cheek, feeling his fingers brush up against the patch of warmness that still lingered on his skin. He exhaled, then made his way into his room and into bed.

He was still smiling as he closed his eyes.

A/N: Boom! Agh, my heart is still soaring from writing that last section. At long last, after several up and down plotlines, I present my first chapter of total, utter, uninterrupted fluff. No angst, no sadness, no nothing but cheerfulness. I figured y'all had earned it for being so supportive. Harry, Hermione, and the Grangers are all blissfully happy a week and a half into the summer. A happy walk in the park? A fun mall trip? Mr. Granger and Harry growing closer? Not to brag or anything, but I wish I could inject this chapter into my veins. Just…so much happiness.

So, first things first, was I inspired by Cobie Smulders posting on Instagram a Robin Sparkles remake to write a chapter about going to the mall? You bet your ass I was. A fair amount of writing out the mall section must also be attributed to potato19's Baby It's Cold Outside. I tried to be original, but I found a fair amount of parallels. I promise I'm not trying to plagiarize, but it's one of my favorite fics of all time and it's hard to not be inspired by it.

Chapter 11

The Grangers' anniversary had come and gone splendidly. The couple had loved their new ski jackets, with Mr. Granger giving Harry a proud smile when Hermione told him he was the one who picked his. Harry was certain his cheeks remained red for the rest of the week.

The summer was progressing fast, and before anyone could blink they were halfway through July. Harry and Hermione were spending most of their time at Sapphire Park and the local library, where Hermione was slowly but surely turning her best friend into a bookworm in his own way. Harry had made his way through a few novels, and while he enjoyed The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and The Great Gatsby, he was utterly fascinated by plays. The discovery surprised Hermione, but she offered him plenty of her favorite Shakespearean tales. Harry instantly took a liking to the world-famous playwright, especially The Winter's Tale, much to the delight of Hermione's parents. His favorite play, however, was much more contemporary – Harry picked up a small booklet titled A Few Good Men and instantly fell in love with it. He couldn't quite explain why, but he just felt inspired by the dialogue and found himself reading it over and over again in between reading other works.

One day in mid-July, Harry and Hermione were reading what they'd checked out of the library in the living room on the sofa. Harry sat on one end, his left elbow on the armrest and his hand propping up his chin while his right hand turned the pages. Hermione lay curled up on the other end, her back to the armrest, occasionally glancing over the edge of her tome at her best friend.

It was while they were reading that the Grangers strolled in, returning from a light day at the dentist office. The children quickly stood to welcome them, but Mr. Granger excitedly waved at them to sit back down. Exchanging confused glances, Harry and Hermione returned to the couch. The married couple sat down in the armchairs across from them, with Mr. Granger sporting a gigantic smile.

"Dad, why are you smiling like a crazy person?" Hermione asked uncertainly. Mrs. Granger let out a sigh, but even she was smiling, albeit not as much as her husband.

"Well, Hermione, you know how I always tell you those amazing stories about when I was your age?" He asked. Hermione sighed and nodded reluctantly.

"Dad, if you're going to ask me to light firecrackers in the backyard – "

"No, no, not those stories, those aren't the ones you should listen to!" The dentist interjected hastily. "No, sweetheart, I'm talking about how I always went camping with my mates, and you always said it sounded so fun!"

"I did?" Hermione asked, more to herself than anyone.

"Of course you did!" He grinned. "So, your mother and I were thinking – "

"You were thinking…" Mrs. Granger muttered, shaking her head with a smile.

"Oh, hush. Anyway, we were thinking, how fun would it be if the four of us went camping?" He asked, throwing his arms up triumphantly.

Harry was surprised, but immediately intrigued. From everything he'd gathered, camping involved eating marshmallows, staying up late, and enjoying the sights and sounds of nature. It seemed like it would be nonstop fun, but he'd never been and wasn't sure if his vision was a bit idealized by what he'd read and seen on television. He turned to Hermione, who held a pensive expression.

"For how long?" She finally broke the silence.

"Oh, just a couple nights. I know this great spot just a bit up the road – "

"Dan, at least tell them that it's two hours away."

"Alright, yes, it's two hours up the road, but it really is perfect. You both would love it, there's this beautiful river, there's a quarry, and the sunsets are simply beautiful – "

"Sounds great!" Harry blurted, earning a pair of warm smiles from the adults while Hermione looked at him confusedly. He turned to his best friend. "What? I've never been camping before." He added quickly. "How bad can it be? As long as we're all together I'm sure we'll enjoy ourselves." He explained. Hermione's brows scrunched together as she considered everything she'd just heard.

He turned back to Mr. Granger, who flashed him a thumbs-up, then turned back to see Hermione shrug.

"Alright. I suppose it could be quite fun if we make it." She said. "I assume we're not all sharing a tent?" She asked her father pointedly.

"No, don't you worry about that Hermione. You and your mother will sleep in one tent while Harry and I take the other." He answered. Harry suddenly choked on air, feeling his face get hot as he coughed repeatedly. "Oh, relax, Harry. The only thing you have to worry about is that I snore. We'll get you a sleeping bag when we get all our supplies."

Harry managed to calm down, but still felt queasy at the concept of crashing with his best friend's dad, even if they'd grown rather close over the past few weeks.

Shopping for camping supplies had ended up being an unexpectedly fun outing. They found a store big enough to rival the department stores that took up entire city blocks and entered excitedly. After finding an entire wall of sleeping bags, Mr. Granger asked his wife to look and make sure no employees were watching before promptly challenging Harry and Hermione to a potato-sack race using sleeping bags they'd pulled off the shelves. Laughing hysterically, the three of them hopped along before Mr. Granger took an unfortunate fall, inadvertently falling in Harry's path and sending the bespectacled wizard to the ground with him. Hermione coasted to victory and stuck her tongue out triumphantly at Harry before breaking into a fit of giggles as she helped him off the ground.

"You got lucky…" Harry grumbled, which only elicited more laughter from his bushy-haired friend. After tossing their broken-in sleeping bags into the trolley, the group continued purchasing all kinds of necessities for camping. Between the reusable water bottles, tents, lighters, bug spray, and sunscreen, their cart resembled that of a doomsday prepper more than anything.

The four of them eagerly returned home to pack before getting ready to depart. Harry, once he'd sorted enough clothes, headed downstairs, bag slung over his shoulder. He reached the foot of the staircase to find Mrs. Granger standing nervously in the kitchen holding a few packages in her hands.

"Harry, come here!" She whispered, beckoning him over as she glanced around. "Put these in your bag before my husband sees." She hissed, shoving a few things into his hands with surprising urgency. He unzipped his bag as fast as he could, but paused when he saw what he'd been given.

"Mrs. Granger – "

"Jean."

"Right, Jean, this is a bag of marshmallows. And this here's a package of chocolate bars and this is a box of graham crackers…" Harry listed in confusion as he finally got a good look at what he was holding. "You handed them to me like they were murder weapons, why – "

"Harry, my husband and I are both dentists, do the math." She responded plainly, but decided to elaborate at Harry's puzzled expression. "Foods like these are horrible for your teeth. Truly, utterly, horrible. But, I don't mind looking the other way once in a while, especially if we're going camping. It's not camping without roasting marshmallows, right?" She asked. Harry wasn't sure if it was rhetorical or not and stood silently with his mouth open before Mrs. Granger continued. "My husband, though, he's a bit stricter about sweets like these than I am. But! If you were to bring them, instead of me, another dentist, he wouldn't be cross about it." She explained. Harry nodded in understanding and hid the treats in his bag wordlessly. "It also helps that he likes you so much." She added with a wink before marching to the car.

Harry felt a smile stretch across his face at that, and quickly followed her out the front door. He added his bag to the trunk and climbed into the backseat to join Hermione. The two shared an excited look before the car revved to life, and soon they were cruising down the motorway towards their destination.

Eventually they left paved roads and the car ambled along a dirt road until Mr. Granger exclaimed in excitement that they had reached their area. He practically leapt out of the car and stood admiring their surroundings as his travel companions slowly exited.

"Welcome!" He said triumphantly, turning to them. "To the Forest of Dean!"

Harry took in their surroundings and couldn't help but feel amazed – they were settled on a remote patch of grass surrounded by some of the tallest trees he had ever seen. He heard the whisper of moving water not far from them. Quickly, he helped Mr. Granger set up the tents while Hermione and Mrs. Granger walked around to collect kindling for a campfire. Once they were settled in, Harry excused himself for a walk to follow the sound of the river. Hermione opted to join him, and the adults told them to be back before it got too dark. Nodding eagerly, the pair set off at a brisk pace.

They walked for a few minutes, listening carefully for the sound of moving water. They moved in a peaceful silence, only speaking to offer directions like "This way!" or "We're getting closer." Suddenly, the two exited the grove of trees and found themselves on a riverbank.

"Wow…" Hermione whispered.

"Yeah…wow." Harry managed as he took in his surroundings. The river flowed gently, not the roaring rush of a turbulent waterfall, but noticeably enough to fill the air with the pleasant sound of moving water. The setting sun cast all kinds of shades of gold and red along the water, which reflected upwards to bathe everything in sight in the most beautiful light Harry had ever seen. Their view was unbeatable – the river had carved out a path that led westward, allowing a completely unobstructed view of the sunset. "It's beautiful." Harry whispered. "I could stand here forever…"

"M-hmm." Hermione nodded in agreement. "Me too."

The two stood transfixed, watching the river run towards the orange sky that lay ahead of them, its blue waters glittering on the surface. Harry took in every detail he could – the birds chirping cheerfully, the trees swaying gently in a perfect breeze, the feeling of total awe that enveloped his entire body. He glanced at his best friend and found himself admiring her for a moment – the light from the sunset gave the appearance of highlights in her bushy hair, and her skin was practically glowing. He smiled to himself and turned back to the scene in front of him.

A moment after he redirected his eyes westward, he felt Hermione step closer to him and gingerly lean against his side. Carefully, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, squeezing her gently. He felt her sigh contentedly as they admired the world around them silently for a few more minutes, his body filling up with a pleasant warmth unrelated to standing in the sunlight.

Reluctantly, Harry checked his watch and mumbled something incoherent about getting back. Hermione nodded, inhaling sharply before stepping away and walking towards the cluster of trees that led back to their campsite. Harry took one last look at the setting sun, committing the picture to memory, before following his friend.

The pair couldn't help but gush to Mr. and Mrs. Granger about the unmatched beauty they'd spent the past ten minutes admiring. The dentists listened with rapt attention, deciding they'd go with the duo at sunset tomorrow to get a good look of their own.

Dusk finally settled over the campsite, and Harry quickly set up a roaring campfire – having years of practice of prepping the Dursley's fireplace. Everyone was given their own lawn chair and soon enough they were all roasting hot dogs over the fire.

"This might be the greatest thing I've ever cooked…" Hermione smiled to herself as she dove into her second hot dog.

"This might be the only thing you've ever cooked, sweetheart." Mrs. Granger smirked. Hermione narrowed her eyes at her mother, but even in the firelight it was obvious her cheeks were turning red.

"Do you not cook? Like at all?" Harry asked, curious. He had noticed that Hermione always volunterred to set the table while he helped the Grangers in the kitchen, but he assumed she didn't want to overcrowd anything.

"Hermione? Cook? Harry, do you like our kitchen?" Mrs. Granger asked, turning to him with an amused smile. Harry nodded nervously. "Do you not want to see it burnt to the ground?" She grinned, unable to subdue a fit of giggles.

Harry felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Hermione Granger, who was brilliant in everything she ever attempted – except flying – was a rubbish cook? He couldn't believe it. He knew he'd been introduced to the culinary arts at an unusually young age ('Not by choice' he thought sadly) but he assumed most kids his age could at least handle themselves in the kitchen.

"Mum!" Hermione gasped, curling into a ball in her chair. "I'm not that bad…" She muttered, mostly to herself.

Harry had never seen his friend so embarrassed before. She kept her eyes locked onto her hot dog and ate in small, dejected nibbles. An awkward silence ensued, broken up only by the crackling fire that was still going strong.

"I…Hermione, I can teach you. You know, to – erm, cook some stuff. If you want…" Harry managed to sputter out. He felt his own cheeks flushing as Hermione's parents turned to him. "I mean, I don't want to overstep. Only if it's alright with you two." He added hastily. Mr. Granger smirked, but his eyes held an emotion Harry couldn't interpret. He wasn't sure if it was an emotion he'd seen directed towards him ever before.

"Harry, of course you're not overstepping. You can, but…" Mrs. Granger trailed off, holding a hand to her mouth in an effort to unsuccessfully hide her amusement. "You might need some protective gear. Maybe a hazmat suit!" She laughed, earning an eye-roll from her daughter.

"Harry, maybe you can teach me how to cook my mother's words, so she can eat them later!" She retorted, unable to mask the sly smile now stretching across her face. Harry saw both her parents' eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and fell into a fit of laughter of his own.

Soon enough, the four of them were all laughing amongst themselves, the warmth from the fire allowing them to stay up late into the chilly night. Harry surreptitiously pulled out the sweets Mrs. Granger had given to him, and was surprised when Mr. Granger didn't give it a second glance when he placed one on his stick. He passed the bags to Hermione, who eagerly loaded up on marshmallows to roast.

The two of them feasted on s'mores, with Mrs. Granger observing affectionately and her husband occasionally glancing at the bag to see how many marshmallows they had plowed through.

"Just brush your teeth extra hard tomorrow." He sighed when the pair passed the halfway mark, prompting Harry and Hermione to exchange grins.

The night crept on, and soon the four happy campers were yawning constantly. Harry looked over and saw Hermione had closed her eyes, her head tilted to the side peacefully. He turned to her parents, who nodded in agreement. The three of them quietly got to their feet. Mr. Granger whispered about grabbing sleeping bags, and his wife followed him to the tents. Unsure of what to do, Harry stood by the fire and turned his eyes to his friend.

For the second time that day, he found himself admiring Hermione. The faltering yellow light radiating off of the fire made her brown hair shine an inexplicably beautiful color. He couldn't help but stare at her skin glowing in the firelight – it looked perfect. She looked so peaceful, with her lips slightly parted like they always were when she dozed. Harry drifted his eyes up and saw her nose was scrunched up a bit, as if she were still thinking hard even as she dreamt. He smirked a bit and moved his eyes up further, and saw how pretty her eyes looked as they reflected the firelight.

'Wait, why are her eyes open?' Harry thought to himself, then Hermione raised an eyebrow and the realization hit him like a freight train.

"Shit…" Harry whispered, his eyes widening in fear.

"Hello, Harry." Hermione smiled coyly as she got up and stretched. Harry felt his heart shrink in on itself, and his face was suddenly boiling hot. "It's rude to stare, you know."

"Uh, I thought – I mean, I wasn't – you know, erm – I just – "

"You should get some sleep." She sighed as she finally stopped stretching and turned to him. Harry suddenly found it impossible to meet her eyes. She strolled towards him with an impish smile and walked right by, bumping him with her shoulder as she passed.

Harry stood as still as a statue, trying to comprehend what had just transpired.

"What on Earth…" He whispered to himself, shaking his head. He heard footsteps approaching behind him and whirled around, but it was Mr. Granger holding a bucket of water. He gave Harry a quizzical look, and Harry realized his cheeks were still incredibly red. Harry murmured something about being fine and helped the dentist put out their fire.

As the pair walked to their tent, Harry recalled a fragment of their fireside conversation and felt the need to ask Mr. Granger about it.

"Mr. Granger, can I ask you something?"

"You can always ask me anything, but I'm not always going to give you an answer." He winked, before turning serious. "What's on your mind?" He asked as they reached the tent. The two stood in silence for a beat outside the entrance.

"When I offered Hermione, you know, to teach her how to cook, you looked at me with this…I don't know. This weird look I've never seen before. Did I do something wrong?" Harry asked, his eyes locked on his shoes. He heard Mr. Granger chuckle quietly as he unzipped their tent.

"Pride, Harry. It was pride." He answered with a smile before clambering in. Harry stood dumbfounded for a moment as the implications of Mr. Granger's answer hit him. He sighed, glancing up at the stars and blinking a tear out of his eye.

"I love camping." He whispered before entering the tent.

A/N: Happy Mother's Day! I know this chapter was posted a few hours later than I usually post but I had work and have been spending time with my mom because as much as I love you all, I love my mom more and that's never going to change.

Hopefully you all enjoyed this! Some more fluff because I'm in a good mood and I want to see happy Harry as much as you guys. Also, decided to send them camping because it's fun! The Forest of Dean was just some random campground I found on the Internet that has absolutely no significance whatsoever to these characters or this story.

Chapter 12

"What's next?" Hermione asked. Her face held an expression of fierce determination, and her eyes were locked onto the book in front of her. Her hands gripped the edge of the table hard enough to turn her knuckles white, and she stood perfectly still as she analyzed her page. She emitted an aura of such seriousness she rivaled Minerva McGonagall.

"Combine the eggs, sugars, and butter in the mixer." Harry responded, not even looking in her direction. He was carefully measuring out salt and baking powder for his best friend to add to their concoction.

"How do you even – ugh, you're right. Okay, let's do it." Hermione sighed, lifting her eyes from the cookbook and walking over to Harry. He smiled at her, but quickly looked away at the resoluteness of her expression.

The two were in the kitchen of the Granger residence, a place where they'd spent an increasing amount of time since their adventure in the Forest of Dean. Harry had been introducing Hermione to the art of cooking for the past couple of weeks, starting with simple recipes like cheese toasties on a relatively dreary day that seemed like the perfect occasion for a simple hot sandwich.

It took ten agonizing minutes for the smoke detector to stop beeping, so Harry opted to let Hermione observe him first, then try on her own rather than him verbally explain the instructions and then give her free reign of the kitchen. Once this new strategy was implemented, Hermione gradually became more comfortable when it came to preparing food. After she made an incident-free grilled cheese, they moved on to a variety of recipes of increasing complexity.

Today, however, was a monumental day for Hermione. It was her first attempt at baking. Harry had decided on chocolate chip cookies, a simple recipe, but one that required lots of precision and attention. He figured Hermione would be a natural at baking considering her brilliance in Potions class, but after she managed to set a piece of bread on fire a couple weeks ago he lowered his expectations quite a bit.

Currently, Hermione was observing the contents of the Grangers' electric mixer with profound intensity, as if she were having a staring contest with it. "How long?" She asked Harry without moving her eyes.

"Until they're just about combined." He responded.

"What does that mean?"

"See, right now, they're separated. But as they continue to mix, they'll get more and more combined, until they're almost in harmony."

"Well, 'in harmony' does nothing for me, Harry. What will it look like?"

"You'll know what harmony looks like."

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing she wasn't going to get a definitive answer. Harry smiled internally. He liked the feeling of being a teacher, providing all kinds of feedback and coaching his friend through her struggles. And, of course, he enjoyed being cryptic when possible. After all, Hermione had spent months refusing to write his essays, instead offering vague advice while claiming it was better for him.

'Oh how the tables have turned…' He thought to himself. Hermione suddenly stood up straight, her hand flying to the mixer to turn it off. She peered at the golden-brown contents and turned to Harry expectantly.

"Did I do it right?" She asked pleadingly.

"It's perfect." Harry grinned, turning to meet her eyes. "Now, you know what to do next?"

"Whisk the dry ingredients, and…" She trailed off, closing her eyes as she tried to remember the words on the page. Harry saw her eyebrows scrunch together in deep concentration, her nose twitching slightly. She turned to look at the recipe, but Harry grabbed her arm.

"You know the answer." He offered gently.

Hermione sighed again. "Whisk the dry ingredients, and…add the vanilla to the mixer?" She asked uncertainly.

"And?"

"There's more?"

"Blimey Hermione, use your head. After adding the vanilla you'll have used every ingredient on the list. Which means…" He tilted his head forward expectantly.

"Which means we add the dry ingredients to the mixer! Because there's nothing left to add!" She exclaimed triumphantly. Harry nodded, and stepped back to let her get to work.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was gingerly sliding a tray of cookie dough gobs into the oven. She closed the door and stood to look at Harry.

"Did I do it right?"

"Is the tray inside the oven?"

"Harry, come on, you know I'm nervous!"

"You shouldn't be. You did great!" He smiled. "Now it's time for my favorite part."

"What's that?"

"There should be a measuring cup over on that table, can you go grab it?" He asked, barely subduing his smirk. Hermione nodded eagerly and turned, marching over to the kitchen table.

"Harry, there's nothing here." She stood confused, hands on her hips as she surveyed the table in front of her. The only thing on the otherwise bare surface was the cookbook they'd been using, still flipped open to the chocolate chip cookie recipe. Harry, barely listening, was tiptoeing behind Hermione as quietly as possible, picking up a pinch of flour along the way. His smirk had grown into a full-blown mischievous grin. He crept up until he was within striking distance of his brown-eyed friend.

"No hard feelings, right?" He whispered. Hermione jumped and turned her head to ask what he was talking about, only to have the entire right side of her face and hair coated in a fine white powder.

"Harry Potter!" She coughed, rounding on him. She was hacking up a lung, but her eyes were laced with fury and embarrassment as Harry cackled at his friend's makeover. Her narrowed eyes only made him laugh harder. "You'll pay for that!" She growled once she could breathe, but she was obviously still flustered. Harry was doubled over, with his hands on his knees and tears streaming down his face from laughing harder than he'd ever laughed before. He saw Hermione look around in shock out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't see her reach for the nearest ingredient.

CRACK

A cold liquid spread across his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. He whipped his head up, sending white shards flying across his field of vision. Shards that looked suspiciously like eggshells. He physically cringed as he realized what his friend had done in retaliation, earning a small burst of laughter from Hermione.

"Hey, mine was funny! This is just gross!" He complained, gingerly laying a hand across his scalp. He pulled it away to reveal more eggshells and egg whites sticking to his hand. He turned to Hermione, whose cheeks were burning red, her lips curled into a sheepish grin.

"You started it…" She whispered, before breaking into a fit of laughter at her friend's defeated look. "I'm sorry, Harry." She managed once she stopped laughing. "But look at my hair! I'll need to wash this out for hours…" She sighed distraughtly, pulling locks of her bushy brown mane in front of her eyes and grimacing at the flour scattered across them.

"Yeah, you're right, that does make me feel better." Harry chuckled, the mischievous smirk returning to his face. Hermione smacked him on the shoulder with mock disdain.

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" She sighed, before breaking into a giggle of her own. "At least you look ridiculous too…"

Harry sighed, still smirking in satisfaction. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and tried in vain to tidy up his even messier than usual hair. Hermione wiped off her face but didn't even attempt to fix her hair. The two sat in smug silence as they cleaned themselves, until a sharp DING of the oven signaled that the cookies were finished.

Hermione eagerly pulled out the tray and laid them next to the tray of cookies Harry had made to demonstrate before Hermione tried the recipe on her own.

"Mine look so much worse…"

"Hermione, they're literally identical."

"That one's all smushed, I've ruined it…"

"I think it looks cute."

"You don't even know which one I'm talking about."

"I'm sure whichever one you erroneously claim to find ugly will actually be the tastiest one of the lot. That's usually how baking goes, anyway." Harry explained, eliciting a small smile from Hermione. He turned to her, feeling his heart swell with pride. "You did it, Hermione. You baked something. Something…" Harry trailed off as he picked up one of the cookies. "…delicious!" He grinned as he took a bite.

Hermione's cheeks were turning pink, but she turned back to her tray of cookies and beamed with self-satisfaction. "I did it." She said in a small voice, mostly to herself.

The pair quickly transferred the two dozen cookies from the trays to a plate and plopped themselves at the kitchen table across from each other. Hermione poured them two big glasses of milk, and they feasted with glee. They talked for a few minutes, mostly about what they had most recently checked out of the library, until Hermione straightened suddenly.

"Are you excited for your birthday tomorrow?" She asked, her eyes reflecting her expectancy. Harry nodded slowly.

"I am. I don't think I've really wrapped my head around the idea of it, though. I mean…" He let out a shaky breath. "I mean, I didn't have someone even wish me a happy birthday for ten years. I've never really looked forward to it before. Then, last year, out of nowhere, an eight foot tall stranger breaks down the door and tells me I'm a wizard. That's been my best birthday so far, despite how bizarre everything really was…" He sighed with a smile. "Anyway, I've never had a reason to be excited for a birthday before. So this is different. But I like it." He added hastily.

Hermione let out a sigh of her own, and Harry glanced towards her to see her eyes were welling up with tears. He offered her a smile, and she returned it happily, her tears seeming to vanish as her face brightened.

The front door suddenly clicked open, and the duo stood up quickly, eager to welcome Mr. and Mrs. Granger home. The two dentists walked into the kitchen, and Hermione happily brandished their plate of remaining cookies.

"Well, they certainly look good. Although, you know you're supposed to put the flour in the cookies, not your hair, right dear?" Mrs. Granger smirked as she grabbed a cookie off the plate. "Oh my!" She exclaimed. "Dan, try this!"

"Jean, let me just – ack!" He cried out as his wife practically shoved half of her cookie into his mouth. "I was going to – oh my goodness, that's delicious! Hermione, was this you?" He asked, his eyes lighting up at the taste. Hermione nodded so fast that flour flew out of her hair, and Harry felt his heart soar as Mrs. Granger clapped her hands together in jubilation.

"Well done, sweetheart! I'd hug you, but this is a black top I'm wearing, and you've got…you know…" She smirked again, gesturing towards her daughter's hair. Hermione blushed, and glared daggers at Harry for a moment before excusing herself to go take a shower.

"I think I should do the same. I, uh, well…" Harry trailed off, pointing to his own hair.

"You don't have to walk on eggshells around us, Harry." Mr. Granger laughed to himself, eliciting a groan from his wife.

"Go upstairs and clean up so you don't see me murder my husband." She sighed, and Harry grinned before dashing upstairs.

The Next Day

Harry blinked his eyes open the moment he felt sunlight filter through the curtains into his room. He felt himself grinning stupidly as he fumbled for his glasses. Once he could actually see, he turned to the window and saw the sun was barely poking out above the horizon, so he laid on his back and sighed contentedly. The Grangers had ended the previous night by promising him an unforgettable birthday. Hermione in particular had looked more excited than he'd ever seen her, and he grinned at the thought of whatever tricks she had planned.

He checked his watch, reading that it was barely after seven, and thought about closing his eyes for an hour or so until Hermione & Co. woke up when Hedwig suddenly hooted. Harry turned to face his pet owl, who was perched on the edge of his desk, practically glaring at him.

"What? Wishing me a happy birthday, are you?" He muttered. The snowy-white bird let out something that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, before cocking its head towards the window. "You want to go out?" She hooted again, impatiently. "Expecting a couple owl friends to hang out with, carrying birthday cards and all that?" Harry sighed, sitting up. Hedwig remained silent, and Harry took that as a yes. "Me too…" He sighed as he began to think about something he'd been trying to push out of his mind.

Harry had yet to receive a letter from anyone from Hogwarts. Hermione, too. Harry understood that he was spending every minute of the summer with the person most likely to write to him, but he'd spent plenty of time with those in his year in Gryffindor when he wasn't undergoing life-endangering missions. Surely Ron, or Neville, or Dean, or Seamus would write? Maybe even Lavender or Pavarti would send him a birthday message. They'd all become alright friends, at least according to Harry. And all eight of them had shared that compartment on the way home on the Hogwarts Express, where everyone had promised to write. Harry had none of his friend's addresses, however, and he didn't want to send Hedwig out without an exact address when they were surrounded by muggles. He and Hermione had given all of their housemates the Grangers' address in hopes of getting a handful of letters to correspond with over the course of the summer. Instead, nothing.

Harry sighed dejectedly at the thought of his friends forgetting him, until he heard a rapid series of knocks on his door.

"Harry! Are you decent?" He heard Hermione call out from the hallway. Harry whipped his head around, and before he could stammer out an answer she practically kicked the door down. "Happy birthday!" She cried out joyfully as she ran over to the side of his bed and leapt in next to him.

"Thanks Hermione, I – ow!" He winced as he felt a wall of force crash into his side and a pair of arms wrap around him. "Blimey, Hermione, I haven't even gotten out of bed!"

"Oh, hush. It's your birthday! Your first real birthday celebration!" She grinned, rocking back and forth in excitement as she kept her arms in a vice grip around her best friend.

"Look, I love your hugs more than anything, but I – "

"Hermione, dear, he's turning blue." Laughed a voice from the doorway. Hermione leapt away from Harry in a panic and stood next to his bed, dusting herself off hurriedly. She blushed as Mrs. Granger crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Happy birthday, Harry."

"Thank you, Mrs. Granger."

"Jean."

"Thank you, Jean." Harry corrected himself with a sheepish grin. Mrs. Granger gave him a warm smile.

"My husband is downstairs making pancakes, whenever you're ready." She added before walking away, throwing her daughter a glance Harry couldn't quite read. Hermione turned back to him eagerly.

"Are you excited?" She asked, her eyes almost pleading.

"Of course I am!" He responded with a grin. Hermione beamed at him, and stepped towards him and practically dragged him out of bed. Well, no, she did drag him out of bed, and he landed on his back with a painful thud.

"Sorry!" She whispered frantically, tuning out his swears and yanking him up to his feet and leading him down the stairs. Harry stumbled into the kitchen with a grin.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" Mr. Granger exclaimed, clapping him on the back and handing him a plate. Harry widened his eyes at the height of his stack of pancakes. "Plenty more where that came from." The dentist winked as Harry took a seat at the table.

The four of them didn't hesitate to dig into the massive breakfast. Harry glanced at the clock and realized Hermione's parents must have gotten up quite early to do such a thing before they had to go to work, and he felt a pang of guilt reverberate across his stomach. He glanced nervously at them, but they each grinned at him with such genuine happiness that he felt any unpleasant feeling in his body melt away.

Once the birthday breakfast concluded, the Grangers told them to behave until they got home for the afternoon and evening. As they departed for the dentist office and the door shut behind them, Hermione leapt towards Harry once again.

"Happy birthday!" She cried out as she enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Hermione!" He cried out in surprise as the oxygen was squeezed out of his lungs. "Is this what you're going to do all afternoon?"

"I'm just so happy for you!" Hermione giggled into his shoulder. "Do you have a better idea?"

'No, you definitely don't.' Harry's inner voice taunted, and Harry fought the urge to rip his brain out of his skull and beat it to death. He gave his friend a gentle squeeze before answering.

"I was thinking we could go to Sapphire Park. Maybe get some ice cream, enjoy the fresh air. I thought it would be nice."

"Anything you want!" Hermione pulled back and grinned at him before grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the door.

The two of them practically sprinted up the street and along the sidewalks that led to the entrance of the park. They roamed the beautiful grounds for the better part of an hour, exchanging smiles with all kinds of happy park-goers as they meandered along the walking path. After they had wandered the length of the path and back, Hermione led Harry to a park bench that overlooked the pond. The pair sat in a content silence for a few minutes before Hermione turned to him.

"Are you having a good birthday so far?" She asked anxiously. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"What could possibly give you the idea that I'm not having a good birthday?" He asked with a grin. "Everything so far has been perfect. Breakfast with everyone, the nice weather, walking around with you out here. Truly, it's been amazing, Hermione."

"So there's nothing you're wishing for? No changes you'd make? Nothing would have made your day better?" She asked, the nervousness in her tone growing more apparent. Harry pursed his lips as he realized what his bushy-haired friend was trying to subtly refer to.

"Hermione, I know you're worried about neither of us getting letters – "

"Honestly, Harry, I couldn't care less that I haven't gotten any letters. It's that you haven't gotten any. I mean, sure, Ron and the other Gryffindor boys don't strike me as some rather perfunctory summer pen-pals." Harry snorted in agreement. "But at the very least they should have sent you something for your birthday. Maybe even Lavender and Pavarti. Or the Weasley twins, they should have sent you some prank-based gift. Harry, something's wrong." She rambled, her eyes reflecting her worries.

"Look – "

"And don't get me started about Gringotts. You still haven't heard from them, have you?" She asked. Harry suddenly found interest in the shaking hands laying in his lap. "Have you?"

"No, alright, I haven't. I haven't heard from Gringotts, or anyone. But, Hermione, right now, that is not what I want to think about. Tomorrow, maybe we can owl Hogwarts or someone to see what's wrong. But right now, I'm a perfectly normal kid celebrating his twelfth birthday with his best friend." He sighed, turning to meet his friend's eyes. They were darkened with concern, with apprehension, but she relented.

"Tomorrow, then. But for now – " She stopped as a familiar tune rang out across the grounds. Her eyes immediately brightened, her mouth curling into a smirk as her hand latched itself around Harry's arm.

"Oh, please don't start running again, we just – ack!" He groaned as his friend leapt off the bench and took off. Harry followed close behind, barely managing to stay on his feet.

The two arrived to meet the ice cream truck at twelve on the dot. The driver recognized them now, considering how frequently they visited him. He was a chipper-looking teenager with fiery red hair, and Harry wondered absent-mindedly if he was a long-lost Weasley cousin. His thoughts of Ron's family were quickly wiped from his mind when Hermione led him to their usual picnic table.

"Cheers. To you!" She grinned as she held her mint-chip cone out. Harry gingerly bumped it with his like they were toasting at a banquet, and laughed amongst themselves.

The pair decided to wander back to the house, opting to read on the patio and enjoy each other's company until Hermione's parents returned home to take the pair out for Harry's birthday dinner. They hadn't revealed much about the restaurant, just that it had delicious food and that Harry should wear some of the sharper clothes he'd picked out on their shopping spree a month prior.

The two of them were reading silently, Harry his copy of A Few Good Men for the umpteenth time, and Hermione a tome about muggle-based astronomy, when the Grangers returned home. Harry hadn't even noticed the hours creep by, but the sun was starting to dip beneath the horizon as he trudged inside to get changed in his room.

KNOCK KNOCK

"Come in." Harry said quietly as he desperately tried to neaten up his hair in the mirror. The door creeped open and Mr. Granger stepped in. "Hi, Mr. Granger." He greeted with a smile before returning to the mirror.

"Hello, Harry. I thought you might need help with your tie, but yours looks even better than mine!" He smirked. "Where'd you learn how – " He trailed off suddenly as Harry's expression darkened, but only for a moment.

"My cousin never bothered to learn. So instead of teaching him, my uncle had me tie his school tie for him in the morning…" Harry trailed off. "First time I've worn a tie outside of school, though, and they tie themselves in the castle. It's a nice feeling, tying your own tie." He mused, distractedly moving his hands from his hair to straighten his tie. He turned from his reflection towards the dentist, who stood silently by the doorway. "How do I look?" He asked, peering down at his outfit. He wore the white dress shirt paired with the blue and black striped tie he'd gotten from J. Crew. He figured it was as nice as he could get, and he wore a pair of black dress pants to go with them.

"You look great, Harry. But…" Mr. Granger smiled almost mischievously. "…I have a birthday present for you. One that I think you should open before the rest of them." He handed Harry a bag marked with a few words he didn't recognize.

"What does Mar-gee-ella mean?" Harry asked, sounding out the foreign looking word. He half expected his bedside table to start hovering off the ground when he said it out loud.

"Margiela, Harry. It's a brand." Mr. Granger smirked. "Go on, see what's inside."

Harry gingerly opened the bag and reached his hand inside. He felt a smooth fabric and carefully grabbed it and pulled it out. At first he thought it was a cloak, but he held it up in front of him and got a much better look.

"Mr. Granger – "

"Every young man needs a quality blazer." The dentist smiled with satisfaction. "Try it on, go ahead." Harry eagerly whipped it behind his back and slid his arms through the sleeves. He pulled the jacket over his shoulders and straightened it out. He turned to the mirror and saw that he looked like a completely different person. He felt like a completely different person. He turned back to Hermione's father, who winked.

"Looking sharp, Harry!" Mrs. Granger grinned as she walked in and leaned against her husband.

"Thank you. Mr. Granger, thank you so much for this, I – "

"You've earned it, Harry." He replied.

Harry nodded quietly and turned back to the mirror to make a few unsuccessful adjustments to his hair before asking if everyone was ready to leave.

"We're still waiting on the beauty queen." Mrs. Granger smirked. Harry couldn't hide his surprise that Hermione was taking so much time to get ready for something. It didn't strike him as very Hermione-esque, but regardless he followed the adults down the stairs to wait in the living room.

The three of them waited, listening to Hermione's footsteps pitter-patter throughout her room upstairs. Harry silently wondered about what she was doing that required so much time and energy. He sighed distractedly and took to staring out the window, where dusk had just fallen.

Finally, Harry heard Hermione make her way down the stairs. He stood up eagerly, his eyes locked on the staircase as she came into view.

'What did this stranger do to Hermione?' Harry found himself marveling as a girl with sleek brown hair carefully strolled down to the living room. Her hair was shiner than he'd ever seen, shiner than how it glowed in the sunset in the Forest of Dean, or when she was sitting by the campfire that night. Her skin was radiant, especially her face, which was framed by her hair, which hung in loose curls.

She locked eyes with Harry and beamed at him, and he couldn't help but do the same. She was wearing the blouse he'd seen her try on at the mall, the periwinkle blue making her skin look that much more dazzling. She looked like a completely different person, but at the same time she still held Hermione Granger's eyes and smile.

'She even wore makeup…' Harry realized as she stepped closer to him.

"You look nice." Hermione managed rather awkwardly.

"You l-look, really pr – nice. You look really nice too." Harry stammered, his face feeling like it had caught on fire. Hermione's cheeks turned pink as well and she looked down to her shoes. The pair shared another smile and turned to the Grangers, who were observing with unreadable expressions.

"Ready?" Mr. Granger asked. Everyone nodded eagerly and they ambled into the car, towards the restaurant.

Harry had never had French food before, unless you counted French fries (a joke that elicited an eye-roll from his best friend). Hermione happily explained everything on the menu, which was an enormous help because Harry saw so many foods he'd never heard of he was starting to think he was reading French.

He decided on trying steak frites, and when he finally dug in Harry thought he had entered another dimension. He was certain that the words to describe how delicious it was did not exist in the English language, or any language.

"Hermione thought you would like this place. Although I think she just really wanted to come here herself." Mrs. Granger smiled as she took a sip of wine.

"Mum!" Hermione sighed in exasperation. "That's not true. It's my favorite restaurant in the world, I just thought you should have the best for your birthday." She told Harry as she dug into her gnocchi. "Do you want to try some?" She asked Harry, holding out a piece on her fork.

Harry shrugged and he and Hermione swapped a few bites of food, both admiring how delicious the other's was. Harry enjoyed every second of the meal, and couldn't help but notice how comfortable he felt. It was without question the fanciest restaurant he'd ever been to in his life, but he was with the Grangers. Maybe at the beginning of the summer he'd be much more nervous about how to act, but not today. He was with the most helpful and most sincere people he'd ever met, enjoying a birthday dinner like he'd always wanted to. He smiled happily to himself as he redirected his attention to his plate.

The four of them returned home, all stuffed to the gills with French food. They were so full, that the Grangers insisted on skipping dessert and heading home, which Harry didn't mind. He was feeling particularly tired and was about to thank everyone and head upstairs when Hermione grabbed him by the hand. He raised an eyebrow as she dragged him towards the kitchen table and sat him in his usual spot.

"What is happening…?" Harry wondered out loud as Mr. Granger hit the light switch and plunged the room into semi-darkness.

"Happy birthday to you..." The three Grangers began to sing, and Mrs. Granger appeared beside him, holding a birthday cake with red and gold icing. "Happy birthday to you…" They continued as she placed it in front of him, and he saw twelve candles dotted across the surface. "Happy birthday dear Harry…" He looked up and smiled embarrassedly at the three of them. "Happy birthday to you!"

"Make a wish, kiddo." Mrs. Granger smiled, and Harry nodded.

'I wish this could last forever.' Harry thought to himself before blowing out his candles triumphantly. The Grangers applauded and quickly took their seats.

"So, I know she wanted me to not tell you until you tried it," Mrs. Granger smirked as she flicked her eyes towards her now blushing daughter, "but this cake was made by none other than Hermione Jean Granger."

Harry turned, bewildered, to his best friend. "Really?" He asked. She nodded blushingly, averting her eyes. "You made this for me?"

"She did the Gryffindor colors and everything! Snuck downstairs last night while you were sleeping. I thought she'd never get to bed, she wouldn't listen to us. Wouldn't even let us help – "

"Dad!" Hermione squeaked, and Harry couldn't help but grin. Hermione had made him a birthday cake – the very girl who was terrified of the kitchen just two weeks ago. He admired the slice of cake on his plate for a moment before digging in.

"Hermione, this is delicious!" He cried out, unable to hide his amazement. "You're a natural." He added, and somehow Hermione's cheeks got even redder.

The four of them each enjoyed a slice of cake, but eventually decided that they were pushing the limits of their stomachs and decided to save the rest of Hermione's creation. Mrs. Granger carefully wrapped it up and placed it in the fridge, and before Harry could excuse himself to go to bed she returned with several gifts wrapped immaculately in wrapping paper adorned with lightning bolts.

"Are these all – "

"It's your birthday, Harry. Come on, open up!" Mr. Granger grinned, and Harry happily – albeit nervously – obliged. The first he opened was from Mr. and Mrs. Granger. He pulled out a booklet and flipped it over to see the cover. He couldn't help but grin as he read the words A Few Good Men emblazoned across the front. "We figured the Hogwarts library might be short on copies. Open it!" Mr. Granger whispered, and he did so – almost dropping the book in surprise at the sight of Aaron Sorkin's signature.

"Thank you so much!" He managed, unable to hide his disbelief. Hermione handed him another present, this one much smaller. He carefully removed the wrapping paper to reveal a small black box. He lifted the lid and a flash of gold shot upwards. "Woah!" He cried out before instinctively reaching out and grabbing it. He felt the familiar cold metal of a Golden snitch as the wings fluttered and slowly stopped. He turned to Hermione in shock. "Where did you get this?"

"I read about a Quidditch store in Wales that sells them. It's not authentic, you can get it to come back just by opening the box." She demonstrated by carefully lifting the black box's lid. Immediately, the Snitch zipped out of Harry's hand and into the box, tucking its wings in and laying perfectly still. "It won't take off again until you close it and re-open it. I figured you could practice your reflexes indoors since flying is pretty difficult out here. I got just before we left the castle for the summer."

Harry found himself in disbelief once again. Hermione had found the perfect gift – all summer he'd secretly been wishing he could practice for Quidditch but to no avail. Even if it wasn't flying on a broomstick, he couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of using his new Snitch.

He opened a few more gifts: a hat for the winter from the Grangers, an empty photo album for him to fill with memories, and a Gryffindor sweater Hermione had also gotten before they left Hogwarts. Harry couldn't help but admire her dedication to finding such great gifts so far in advance.

"I don't know what to say." Harry managed, suddenly feeling a rush of emotions as he looked at his gifts on the table in front of him. "Thank you all so much!"

"Of course, Harry. Happy birthday." Mrs. Granger beamed. Her husband nodded, and Hermione had the brightest smile he'd ever seen.

"Alright, I think we can all head up to bed now. It's been quite a day, I'll say." Mr. Granger sighed with a smile as he stood from the table. The rest followed suit, and soon all four were upstairs. Harry and Hermione walked to their end of the hallway and stood awkwardly outside their doors.

"Thank you for the gifts, Hermione." Harry smiled. "They really were perfect. I don't know how I'm going to top it for your birthday." He smirked. Hermione blushed.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm glad you like them, though. Even if Quidditch is a dangerous, mind-numbing – "

"Alright, alright, you've made your opinions on Quidditch very clear. Don't expect me to quit, though." He grinned, and Hermione sighed.

"I figured as much." She said, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Good night, Harry." She said quietly, her eyes locked onto his, holding all kinds of emotions he couldn't recognize.

Harry felt a nervous feeling grip his heart. He hadn't felt it since that night in the Forest of Dean, when Hermione had been so…weird.

'You were caught staring at her, I think you're the weird one.' The voice in his head retorted, and Harry once again wished he could hex his own thoughts.

"Good night, Hermione." He gingerly opened his door and laid his gifts on the floor of his room before turning to give Hermione a hug, a nightly tradition he was happily getting used to. He felt Hermione settle against his shoulder and sigh contentedly. She pulled herself on her tiptoes and rested her head on his shoulder, before suddenly backing away.

"What?"

"Harry, who is that?" She pointed worriedly towards his room. Harry was certain there was nobody in his room, until he turned and saw a funny-looking creature he'd never seen before sitting on his bed.

"I…I don't – what the?" He stammered. The creature had ears like a bat and an unnervingly long nose. Its eyes were green like tennis balls, and they were currently locked onto Harry. The three of them stayed in an uncomfortable silence. Until…

"Hello, Harry Potter! Hello, Hermione Granger!"

Hermione squeaked and clung to Harry's arm.

"Harry, it just talked!"

"Yeah, I noticed." He whispered, slowly walking into his room with Hermione in tow. "Erm, hello. What are you doing here? And how do you know who we are?" He sounded much calmer than he really was. Was this bizarre creature what Voldemort had sent to do them in? Harry was jarred from his fearful thoughts when the thing spoke again.

"Oh, Dobby has heard all about you two! You are mentioned very often in my master's house. It seems Master is not the only one…" The creature grinned, pointing to two piles next to Harry's bed. Harry stared quizzically at them, until he recognized the handwriting of his classmates.

"Are those…letters? Have you been stopping our letters?" He asked, and Hermione hitched her breath in surprise.

"I'm afraid so, Harry Potter. Dobby had to do it. Dobby wants to protect you both from what is to come!"

Harry turned to Hermione, who looked equally curious and horrified. The boy wizard was starting to think he wasn't getting his birthday wish redeemed. He turned back to Dobby.

"Start talking."