Chapter 6
Chapter VI
Harry awoke a short time later to find Hermione laying beside him, dozing, her arm lazily across his chest. He
looked up and realized that they had left the door open, and found her father in the doorway. He motioned to Harry.
Harry blanched, gently disengaged and walked toward the man, who was dressed in shorts and a short sleeved shirt.
Once Harry had exited the room, Douglas Granger pulled the door shut. He led him out to the common room area of
the suite, pointedly noting the two pieces of Hermione's bikini lying on the floor. Harry picked them up, much as he
would have at the Dursley home, and carefully placed them, folded, across the back of the couch. Douglas motioned
him to the leather chair.
"From what I saw, Mr. Potter, and what I see, can I assume that my little girl is no longer a virgin?" was the
somewhat cold question.
Harry fell apart inside, but kept it from his face. "Yes sir. Your daughter and I have been intimate."
"You say that to her father without much thought on how I might react."
"Well, there's no obvious weaponry available, so your choices are bare hands and various crockery, sir," he
replied, his head hung low.
"Very true, Mr. Potter. Can you give me a valid reason to not use what you suggested?" If possible, the voice
got colder.
"No sir." If it were possible for Harry's head to drop further, it would have.
There was a very long pause before Mr. Granger said, "Excuse me? What did you say?" He sounded more
than a little shocked.
"I said that there is no valid reason I can give you not to physically injure me. I should have attempted to keep
my hormones in check, but I was too weak; instead, I have taken something from your daughter that she can now
never give to someone far more deserving. I will not stop you if you choose to exercise your rights as a father in
protecting your daughter." Tears had begun to fall from Harry's eyes.
The silence following Harry's comment was even longer before Douglas Granger said in a voice that Harry
assumed was shaking in anger, "Go to your room, Harry. I … need to think for a while."
Harry walked to his room and shook in remorse for a while, crying at what he had done to Hermione and the
relationship between her and her parents. Finally, he shook himself free of the sorrow and looked at his owl Hedwig.
"Girl, I'm going to need to you fly to Professor Dumbledore for me, okay? Just let me write the note, and I'll send you
off." She hooted once quietly and affectionately nipped his finger. In short order, she was winging her way to
Scotland. Harry, in the meantime, wrote another note, dressed and then he shoved several changes of clothes into his
book bag. Slipping the invisibility cloak over his head, he carefully stepped from his room, and headed toward the
common room of the suite. Seeing that Mr. Granger was no longer there, he quickly exited the suite, and soon the
hotel.
---
Hermione awoke feeling slightly sore in a certain tender area, and smiled broadly because of what had caused
that tenderness. She looked beside her, and noted that Harry was no longer on the bed. He must have headed to his
own room. She stood and walked to the door. Hmm, I don't remember closing it. He must have. She headed out the
into the suite to see her parents sitting there, looking a little tense. "Everything all right?"
She was surprised to see the venomous look her mother shot her father. "No, everything is about as not all
right as is possible, due to your father's sense of humour." She held out a piece of tear-stained parchment.
Hermione,
I had a talk with your father. I won't be able to live with you now, that much is obvious.
He made me realize that no matter how much we both may have wanted what we did, I
have taken from you the most precious thing you had – something that belonged to a far
more worthy man than this boy you gave it to. I can not forgive myself for not being
stronger.
I have sent Hedwig to Professor Dumbledore to procure a portkey for my return to the
Dursley household, or the Burrow, or wherever it is deemed is a good place for me to
stay for the summer. I would say that it is fairly safe to assume that I will no longer be
welcome in your presence, at least when your father is around, so that prevents me from
coming back to you for the summer. It is doubtful that I will see you again before
September 1st. I am sorry to ask you to carry my things with you, but I needed to travel
light, if only to keep your father from committing justifiable homicide. I have my cloak
with my, by the way, so that it will be harder for me to be noticed.
Know this, Hermione – I do love you. I just realized that you are better off without me.
Please realize it yourself, and find someone better.
Harry
She looked up at her father, eyes blazing. She stared at him for a long moment before asking through gritted
teeth. "How long has he been gone, Father?"
"We talked half an hour ago. When I realized what I had done to him, I … I intended to explain to him that I'd
been playing a joke, playing the concerned father. But he reacted so badly that I just … couldn't speak. It's not that I
didn't want to; I couldn't. I needed a short break to pull myself together. He's been gone probably twenty minutes.
We've sent the hotel security looking for him, and they were going to get the locals involved." The man put his head
forward into his hands.
Hermione spun and pulled a wrap-around dress out of her closet. She slipped her sandals on and walked out
the door. "Thanks ever so much, Father," she barked as the door closed.
She stalked down the hall and out of the hotel herself. She walked out onto the beach, where she stood staring
at the ocean. "Harry, where are you? Where are you hiding yourself?" she asked the surf. "My idiot of a father and
his sense of humour have sent you off when you don't need to be gone." She fell to her knees on the sand, and started
to cry.
A short time later, she heard someone say, "Hey honey, I can wipe those tears away."
"Please go away," she said firmly.
"Aw, come on, let me try," the man replied a little more firmly, and took her arm. When she tried to pull away,
she discovered that he had a tight grip on her arm. "I tried to make it your choice. I know what you're selling, and I'm
buying. Now, come with me." He started to drag her across the beach.
She was surprised by an incoherent roar coming from her left, and suddenly her attacker went flying. She was
dragged a short distance, but he released her. As she looked at her attacker, she saw him double up as if someone had
landed on his stomach, and then his head began to shoot back and forth as if someone were punching him. Blood
began to fly, and she heard bones break, but still the man kept moving. She ran over and pulled who she knew had to
be beating the man to death off him. "Harry, please stop – you'll kill him!"
"He deserves it!" came the sobbing response from thin air. She pulled the cloak from him and hugged him
tightly.
"I won't let you, Harry. Please. Come back with me to the hotel. Let me fix up your hand. Let my father
apologize for his stupidity."
"He has every right to be angry, Hermione! He was standing in the doorway to your room when I woke up!
We were both naked, and it was fairly obvious what we'd been doing. He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that his
baby girl is no longer a virgin. And the door was open, as if I was flaunting despoiling his little girl!"
"Harry, he knew my plans. I had told the both of them that I intended to give you what I did today. He knew,
and supported it, because I promised him that I was not going into this just for a quick fuck." He started at her brief
profanity, so out of character for her, but she kept talking. "I was giving my body to the man who already holds my
heart." She scowled. "If he'd just waited on his damned joke, we could have let you know that he wasn't serious.
Instead, he appears to have pressed all the wrong buttons. You were going to willing go back to the Dursleys? I'll bet
you would have willingly climbed into that damned cupboard, too – just to punish yourself more."
Harry blushed. He'd been thinking exactly that. "Herrmione, he just reminded me that I'd set my sights too
high. The likes of you are not meant for the likes of me. You made a serious mistake giving your heart to someone
like me. I don't deserve such beauty."
"Oh Harry," she sighed, trying hard not to cry. She helped him to his feet and led him back to the hotel,
absently telling a security person about the unconscious person on the beach. "We're going to have to talk to the
police, unfortunately," she murmured.
---
They re-entered the hotel suite, and Harry was immediately faced with Douglas Granger. "I'm sorry, sir, I …"
Harry began.
"No, Harry, it's me who should apologize. I was trying to pull the concerned father routine, and pushed all the
bloody buttons that the Dursleys installed. I ended up making you feel worthless, and that is unforgivable." He
sighed. "I saw you waking up, which gave me time to wipe the smile from my face. You two looked so happy, so …
right. I saw why my daughter loves you so much, Harry. I hope someday you can forgive me for the hell I put you
through." He met Harry's eyes. "I am stating this now, of my own free will, Harry. If you and Hermione decide to get
married, you already have my blessing. I will be proud to call the man who my daughter loves so much my son-in-
law."
Harry's jaw dropped. "But …"
"Harry, none of what you did was wrong. My daughter loves you, and what you told Helen tells me that you
love her. Hell, even your goodbye note to Hermione proves how much you love her. If you'll still have us, we'll let
you live with us."
"But I … your daughter isn't a virgin anymore, and it's because of me." He sat down heavily, confusion strong
in his eyes. "I don't understand anymore. How should I feel? Part of me is happy that you accept me, but I know that
I really don't deserve that sort of happiness."
"Why not?" Helen asked.
"If I were truly worthy of being loved, wouldn't I have been put into a household where I could be taught what
love is, instead of being placed with the Dursleys? I'm a weapon, that's all. I'm the only one who can defeat
Voldemort, so I was put where I could be safe, until I can be pointed and told to kill."
"What do you mean, you're the only one who can defeat Voldemort?" Hermione asked.
"That prophecy that Voldemort was after? The one we helped him and his Death Eaters get close to? The one
where if I'd had even half a brain in my head I would have listened to you and not ended up killing Sirius and almost
killing you?"
"Harry …." Hermione started to say.
He bulled onward, heading off her attempt to bring him out of his mood. "'The one with the power to vanquish
the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark
Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of
the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be
born as the seventh month dies …' That's what it was, Hermione. It was said to Dumbledore by Trelawney. That's
why she works at Hogwarts. She's being protected by Hogwarts magic, and she's made two valid prophecies now."
He looked up at her. "Hermione, find someone who can live long enough to make you truly happy. I'm going to die
against Voldemort, be it tomorrow or ten years from now. I am going to take him with me, but I won't survive."
"Do you not want to marry me?" she asked, voice throbbing.
"I'd like to live a long happy life with you, giving your parents lots of grandchildren. That can't happen,
though."
They both turned at the sound of two sharp cracks, one immediately following the other. The first was Douglas
Granger having punched the wall with considerable force, and the second was Nymphadora Tonks standing in the
corner of the suite. "Wotcher, Harry!"
"He's not leaving," Douglas said, cradling his hand. "He is staying with us until it's time for them to go back to
school."
"He needs to be somewhere safe, Mr. Granger." She pulled her wand, touched the man's hand, and murmured a
few words. He flexed his hand, no longer in pain.
"Physically, perhaps. Mentally, he's safer here with people who love him and can finally teach him, if it's not
too late, that he's deserving of accepting love."
Tonks could only blink. "What do you mean?"
Hermione stalked over to Tonks. "My fiancé feels unworthy of surviving the battle with Voldemort. What
good do his damned blood protections do him if he feels like walking out and offering himself to Voldemort after
making love to me?" She blushed as she looked at Harry. "He made me deliriously happy, I want to add." She
walked over to him and kissed him gently.
Looking back up at Tonks she finished with "I'll face expulsion from Hogwarts if that's what it takes to keep
the man I love safe. And I will tell the headmaster that to his face if necessary." She was shaking as she contemplated
facing down Albus Dumbledore.
"If that's what it takes, then I move my daughter and her future husband to Beauxbatons," Douglas Granger
said. "I hurt this boy terribly earlier today, and I will die before I do that to him again. He's been the best thing that
ever happened to Hermione. You tell your headmaster that Harry will be staying with us. And that's final."
Tonks turned to Harry. "How do you feel about this, Harry?"
"I don't know. This is the first family I've ever been with that didn't automatically knuckle under because they
thought Dumbledore knew best. They want to go to bat for me. And for whatever strange reason, they actually want
me to marry their daughter, who apparently has had a fit of insanity in deciding that I'm her dream man. They may not
be blood, but I'll die for that – for them."
He thought for a moment. "Think about that - with all the people I know who are my friends, who is it that is
truly going to drive me to destroy the greatest threat to the wizarding world? Two Muggles and their witch daughter.
Someday to be the only living parents I have, it seems."
He looked to his future in-laws. "Everyone who knows anything about this sees me as this great weapon
against Voldemort. You look at me, knowing that knowing me has put your daughter in danger time and again, and
still you accept me. You could rightfully demand that I never see your daughter again; instead, you grant me
permission to marry this goddess given human form." He smiled. "More than anything else, that will help me get past
what the Dursleys have done – knowing that people want me to be in their family." He had tears of gratitude in his
eyes. "I still don't feel worthy, but I'll work on it."
Tonks smiled at him , and he could see that her own eyes were moist. "For what it's worth, Harry, I'm with you
on this. If staying with the people who protect you by blood makes you want to die, then there's no good reason for
you to stay with them. I'll go back and talk to the big man for you. By the way, you two – congrats on the
engagement! And forget me getting revenge – I understand now, I think." She snorted. "Expect a visit from
Dumbledore in a while, if I know him. Ta-ta!" she grinned as she apparated away.
Helen turned to Harry and hugged him again. "We're going to do everything we can to keep you around for all
those grandchildren. Grandchildren of your own, Harry. We want you to live a long happy life with Hermione."
"I do too, but …"
"… but we could step outdoors tomorrow and get hit by a bus," Douglas said. "Life happens, and so does
death."
"Yeah, but you don't have a bus prophesied to hit you, and have it stalking you."
"Ah, yes," Douglas said with a laugh. "The thing is, with that prophecy you quoted, you may well be
Voldemort's bus, to take this example to its truly ludicrous extreme. It doesn't prophecy your death. It prophecies the
death of at least one of you." He chuckled. "I'm probably remembering the quote wrong, but I always enjoyed the one
attributed to the American general George Patton. 'The important thing is not that you die for your country; it's that
you make the other sorry bastard die for his.' We'll do what we can to help you survive this and make Voldemort die."
"I wish the Dursleys cared for me the way you care for Hermione," Harry breathed quietly.
"Oh, we're not doing this for her – we're doing it for you, Harry. She just gets to be the beneficiary of what
we're doing. We've only known you a very short time, Harry, but we understand why our Hermione loves you. We
love you, too, son."
He was enveloped by the Grangers as he fell to his knees crying.
---
It was growing dark outside when they heard a knock at the door. Doug Granger opened it to be faced by
Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody. "May I help you?"
"I am Albus Dumbledore, Mr. Granger. My companion is Alastor Moody. I need to speak with Harry, if I
may. This is quite possibly a literal case of life or death."
"Come in. This involves the Dursley family, doesn't it." It was not a question.
"Yes, it does. Sometime earlier today, the protections about the Dursley home began to fail. They completely
failed fairly rapidly. This puts Harry in extreme danger."
"When did they fail?" Harry asked with a laugh. He had a suspicion as to what had caused the failure.
"They began to fail between four and five PM," Alastor said. "They simply disappeared at roughly five PM."
Harry's laughter got stronger, with more than a hint of despair and madness to it. "Of course they did! The
universe couldn't be that nice to me." He got himself under control and turned to Hermione. "My dear, apparently our
professing our love for each other, and then actually daring to act on it shattered the protections at the Dursley
household, and therefore the protections over me. The universe thinks I should have died a virgin."
"You have been intimate with Miss Granger?" Albus asked with some interest.
"The future Mrs. Potter, but yes, we have. Do you need a blow-by-blow?" Hermione asked with some
asperity.
"Only if it would give you pleasure to give it, Miss Granger," came the amused response. "I am aware what
this question sounds like, but I must ask it nonetheless. What was your reasoning for becoming intimate?"
Harry was turning red, and it was obvious that it was not due to embarrassment. Helen Granger rested her hand
on his arm. "Let's give him the benefit of the doubt, Harry. If he's not asking for the right reason, then we all open up
on him."
Dumbledore said. "I ask because I wish to be able to explain why Alastor and I could not Apparate directly
here."
"You couldn't Apparate here?" Hermione asked with interest. "It sounds as if the wards have transferred, sir."
"I'm not surprised," Douglas Granger said. "With the depth of love these two have for each other, I'm betting
no one could get within a few miles of them."
"To answer your question, sir," Harry answered hotly. "Hermione and I have, in fact, been sexually active,
because we are engaged to be married. I love her and her parents, and if I defeat Voldemort, it will be because of
them, not because of anyone else. Hermione, to keep the love of my life alive, and her parents because they're the
closest I think I'm going to get to my parents. They love me unconditionally."
Albus opened his mouth to speak, but Harry was on a roll. "Was there a reason, sir, that it was decided that I
was worthless, except as a weapon? Or was the fear so great that I might be taken or killed that it was all right to place
me in a home where I received exactly the opposite of what my parents would have given me? Vernon and Petunia
have detested me from the very first day I was there."
He rounded on Moody before anyone could speak. "And that little stunt you pulled at the station – threatening
Vernon? Oh, I wish I had copies of the hospital photographs! Ask these wonderful people what I looked like!" He
was mildly surprised to see Doug Granger walk back into the room with an envelope.
"I made sure there were copies, and I brought them with us on vacation, in case someone showed up to try to
take Harry away from us. Look at these, and be aware that all the visible damage happened since he returned home
this summer."
The two elderly mages looked at the photographs, and for the first time Harry could remember, Dumbledore's
face went the colour of his beard. "This happened to you since you left school? The burn; the skull fracture; the
whipping?"
"Yes, sir. I endured it because I put Hedwig's life above my own safety, and I still would. She is far more
intelligent than the average owl, and should not suffer or die because I happen to be good for only one thing. She kept
coming back because Vernon threatened her with my murder if she tried to leave a message with anyone."
He spun back to Moody. "That's another thing that frosted me this summer. I'm this extremely important
commodity – the only thing that can defeat Voldemort, according to the prophecy. Why in hell didn't anyone actually
physically check up on me?! If not for their going to a damned concert for the fucking killer whale son of theirs, I
might well still be lying in that cupboard, nursing a useless left hand, broken ribs, and my fractured skull! Yeah, I
may have been in a crappy mood because of Sirius' death, but what happened to actually physically checking up on
your charge? Occasionally the enemy gets you, and can make you send notes. This summer proved that!"
"Another thing," he said, rounding on Dumbledore. "The Order is supposed to be worried about defeating
Voldemort. Well, then, it's damned time that Hermione and I became members, since we know what the prophecy
was. Especially since the aim of the Order is directly in line with what the prophecy requires of me. And you knew
that for years! If Voldemort is to be defeated, then I damned well need the help of the Order. If the Order says no;
that I have no right to be a member, then I will have no choice but to sever ties with the Order. The Order's purpose is
to support me, not the other way around."
"You told her what the prophecy said?" Dumbledore asked simply.
"I told all three of them. I felt that they had a right to know the danger involved with accepting me into their
family. As far as I'm aware, we are the only five who know the prophecy, sir, and I expect someone will chew me out
for even mentioning it in front of Moody."
"Are you aware of the danger that they are now in?"
Harry turned puce for a moment, but stopped and clenched his fists and breathed deeply a few times – quite a
few times. Finally calm enough not to yell, he said, "Sir. The danger is no greater now unless someone lets slip that
they know the prophecy. Their danger comes from being the parents of a girl who is braver than she is intelligent,
since she's in Gryffindor, rather than in Ravenclaw. Frightening thought, if you stop to think about it, given how smart
she is. Five others are in grave danger now, because of the only weapon the Order has against Voldemort. They chose
to follow me on a errand that killed a man; a man who died because I didn't practice constant vigilance. Ron, Ginny,
Neville, Luna, and Hermione are in extreme danger because they dared stand up against Voldemort and his minions."
He pulled Hermione close. "The only thing that has given my life any real meaning was almost killed due to my
stupidity. I was serious earlier, sir. I will lay down my life to keep this woman, this family safe. I will not lay it
down foolishly, since I would prefer to sometime in the future to give these wonderful people some grandchildren, and
I can't really do that if I'm dead."
"They are in grave danger from having such a marvellous daughter, sir. She follows me, for some reason, but it
is her choice, and it is that choice that puts her parents in danger. And from what they said earlier, they wouldn't have
it any other way."
"Exactly," said Doug Granger. "This is a war, and we're affected. We can work with the Shadows, or with the
Light. Either way, we're involved. Harry is the side of Light. We support our son."
Harry started at the reference. "Son, you and Hermione consummated your love earlier. In the eyes of the
universe, you're married, and as far as I'm concerned, you're our son-in-law now. We just have that pesky legal thing
to get out of the way. We can grant permission for Hermione to marry since she's sixteen. Since you'll be an
emancipated minor as of the thirty-first of July, when you turn sixteen, you can give yourself permission to marry."
He grinned suddenly. "How about over Christmas break?"
Harry's jaw was almost on the floor, and Doug laughed. "Didn't expect that kind of reaction, obviously.
Despite my ill-advised attempt at a joke, for which I will apologize until you get sick of hearing it, I love and trust my
daughter. She told us that she would only take one man to bed – her future husband. She told us his name the summer
after your Tri-Wizard Tournament. His name is Harry Potter." He laughed. "Now comes time to embarrass my
daughter without pulling out the photo album."
"Oh no, Daddy, you're not going to …" Hermione blushed furiously.
"Silence, child!" he said imperiously, but with a laugh. "When she came home from school for Christmas, her
first year at Hogwarts, she informed us that she had met the boy she was going to marry. It took us until almost New
Year's Day to discover that there were other male students at that school than Harry Potter." He grinned. "Apparently
it took until fourth year before there were any male students at the school except Harry, Ron Weasley, and their
nemesis Draco Malfoy."
Hermione was blushing furiously, but Harry's jaw had dropped. "You've … wanted me for that long?"
She couldn't look him in the eye. "Since the moment I opened the door, looking for a toad."
He dropped to one knee before her. "Can you forgive me for being too thick to notice?"
"I won't argue with your being thick," she purred at him in a voice that told him she was not thinking of his
behaviour, "but you're a boy. Of course you wouldn't understand these things!" He couldn't help but laugh.
Finally, he turned back to Dumbledore. "I'm having a hard time not being angry at you, especially after this
time with the Dursleys. You need to know that the Muggles are already exploring them for child abuse, because I have
no intention of ever returning to them. I think the only reason I'd save Vernon from a Death Eater would be because I
wanted to kill him myself." At Moody's and Dumbledore's shocked looks, he barked, "Can you imagine me not
wanting revenge on that son of a bitch after the … the shit he's put me through in the last fifteen years? I grew up in a
bloody cupboard until I was eleven years old! And whoever repaired the house from my little tantrum could probably
figure that out, if they bothered to look! I think my little bit of graffiti is still on that wall. I marked the cupboard as
my room, sir. Go to that household, and look in that damned cupboard! They've never been able to paint over it – it
may have been my first accidental magic. Look at the repairs from where the Weasley boys ripped the bars off my
wall, so that I could escape! I was always the freak that needed to be dealt with, and your response was always, 'It's
for the greater good!' If the greater good involves condoning child abuse, then who the fuck wants to be good?!?" He
turned and stalked from the room, Hermione in hot pursuit.
---
Albus Dumbledore stood in stunned silence before Helen and Douglas Granger.
"What's it like, playing with lives like they're chess pieces?" Helen asked.
Albus flinched as if he'd been slapped. Helen continued. "I've only known that boy since the day he called us
after escaping from the Dursleys, but I already love him as if I bore him in my body for nine months. My daughter has
given that boy her soul, and from what I see, she's the only reason that his soul is even remotely in one piece! Is this
Voldemort so much of a threat that the destruction of the most noble, caring soul I've ever met is a worthwhile
consequence?"
She stalked closer to Albus. "Earlier today, he informed me that he is worthless. Just a few hours ago, when
he blamed himself for the incident that injured my daughter a few weeks ago, he informed me that we should, and I
quote, 'be throwing him out on the street with the rest of the garbage' for what had happened to Hermione." She roared
her next line. "That boy thinks he's garbage because of your actions, Headmaster! What are you going to do to repair
this damage?"
Douglas spoke up. "Sir, remember that my daughter got her intelligence from somewhere. My wife may not
be a witch, but I'll bet she can make your life a living hell if you don't listen to her."
"I have no doubt of that now," Dumbledore said. "I admit to being at a loss. My disbelief that such a thing
could truly exist – such hatred aimed at a child … I have made so many wrong decisions concerning this boy …
correction, this man. I have forced him, whether I fought against it or not, into an early adulthood. I truly do not know
what to do to rectify this situation anymore." He looked at Douglas and Helen. "Have you any suggestions?"
"Yes," Doug said. "If an adult he must be, then treat him as an adult. Treat him as the saviour he has to be.
This doesn't mean to give him parades or parties, but it does mean that you need to explain things to him. If there's a
reason you can't explain it to him at the moment, then try to explain the reasoning behind it. I'm betting that even a
simple 'If I explain it, your reaction might not be natural,' would be a lot more acceptable than nothing at all, followed
eventually by an explanation. The first allows him some feeling, or even the pretence of input. The second says that
he's a child and should listen to his elders and betters. This Occlumency thing that Hermione talks about – is there any
other teacher in the school who can teach it to him than this Snape person? From what Hermione can see, even though
she's willing to give the teacher the benefit of the doubt, she thinks that his methods are less than effective. Are you
going to learn well when faced with a teacher who has told you from the day he met you that you are worthless, and
that you're a glory seeker? I've heard about that little explosion at the end of Hermione's third year – are you even sure
that the man is sane? Personally, I'd like to meet the man face to face. Can this be arranged without him knowing
why we're meeting? I'd like to get a better feel for his true personality."
"This Order thing he talked about – is he right? Can their purpose be stated as 'Support Harry in his fight'? If
so, I think I can guarantee that he'll follow through if they don't accept him. He won't end the friendships with the
people, but he won't trust the information coming from the Order if you tell him he's too young." He sighed.
"My wife is right. Whether or not he's going to legally be our son-in-law, he's our son, borne by another
woman. Just as Hermione clicked with him when they met, we did too. I think he did too. Did you know that we
were the ones he called to rescue him? We talked about that. He couldn't think of anyone else. The only other people
he would have called were in the Order, and would have delivered him over to you. And what would you have done?
From the reaction that the girl named Tonks had in the hospital room before finding out what had been done to him,
you lot would have berated him for being so stupid as to jeopardize himself by leaving." He slammed his hand flat
against the wall. "I won't have that done to him, do you hear me?" Doug had tears forming in his eyes.
"I agree, Mr. Granger," Albus Dumbledore said softly. "I have done too much to him for so long, in a
misguided attempt to protect him. In doing so, I have lost his trust, quite possibly permanently. I will miss the days of
him thinking of me as a grandfather figure."
Harry walked back into the room, more than a little mussed, with Hermione behind him, her hair also quite
mussed. The dress was not tied quite as firmly around her as it had been earlier.
"Sir, it's still salvageable. It's only been a short time since Sirius's death, and I still haven't truly dealt with
that – part of me keeps expecting to get an odd owl, or eagle, or knowing him, a flying wombat saying 'What a
surprise! I ended up in Pago-Pago!' That won't happen, though. I need to cry for him, and then get on with my life."
He took a breath. "Treat me like an adult. If there's a valid reason not to tell me, such as my lack of Occlumency
skills, then tell me that, and I'll accept that. Even the need for an honest reaction – I know I'm not a great actor. But
don't do what you've done the past five years. Treat me like someone who deserves to be told what he needs to
know."
"I'll even understand if the Order says no, as long as you make a concerted effort to make them realize that I'm
serious about it – I will not work with the Order to defeat Voldemort if they choose to lock me out because of my age.
I will work on my own. I'm sure that the Order will find ways to get me the information anyway, but do they really
want the extra time built in to get me the info?"
"I understand, Harry," Albus said. "I wish to state to you now that I will not give you the treatment that I did
last year. My office is open to you." He looked to Hermione. "That goes for you as well, Miss … Mrs. Potter." He
looked at them carefully for a moment, and then looked at her parents. "Where will you be on his birthday?"
"We'll be back in the London area for a while, before heading out again until near the end of August," Doug
answered. "Why?"
"Because on his birthday I wish to do something that will be of dubious legality in the wizarding world, and of
none in the Muggle world, but will help cement the protections that these two have already built." He looked to
Hermione and Harry again. "Be proud. The power of your feelings has created an anti-Apparation field of roughly
two miles in diameter around the two of you." He chuckled. "I had originally been worried that something else had
caused the wards, but I see now the true reason."
"Two miles?" Hermione squeaked. "But that means …." She closed her eyes for a moment and bit her lower
lip as she began to work the problem through in her head. Harry smiled at her as he watched her. Suddenly her eyes
shot open and she looked at Harry. Her eyes were so wide that Harry was almost afraid that they would fall from her
head. She suddenly blushed and dropped her gaze demurely.
"Precisely," Dumbledore chuckled. "Both the level of power that Harry has at his command, and the depth of
his feeling for you."
"What is it, honey?" Helen asked.
"I may be the only girl in all of England who can Arithmantically prove that her lover loves her more than
anything else on the planet. The power required for such a field is astronomical. His raw power supplies a part of that,
but the depth of his feeling supplies the true power to the field. A two mile radius means that, basically, Harry would
storm Hell itself for me."
They looked at Harry, who shrugged. "I could have told you that, Hermione," he said simply.
"Maybe, but I never would have seen it as anything but hyperbole. Now I know, beyond any possible doubt."
She turned to Dumbledore, her look changing to one of pride, not to mention looking a little stunned.. "What was this
dubiously legal thing you want to do on his birthday?"
"A handfasting ceremony. It is basically …."
"It's a trial marriage," she interrupted. "And we can set the duration of the handfasting, can't we?"
"Yes. Traditionally it is a year and a day, but if you chose until, oh, let us choose a random date of September
nineteenth, that would also be legitimate. I wonder if someone at Hogwarts is empowered to perform a wedding
ceremony on such a date?" he asked, his eyes twinkling merrily. He turned to Doug and Helen. "We'll need your
written permission for her to wed, but such a wedding would be legal. In December, you could also do a Muggle
ceremony."
The look in Helen's eye made everyone laugh, even Moody. She was obviously looking forward to this.
"Not that I'm complaining, sir," Harry said, "But why the handfasting ceremony?"
"Honestly Harry," Hermione huffed, but with a strong undercurrent of amusement to her voice. "It's to solidify
the protections. We've created them, but even a dubiously legal ceremony will have enough magical validity to hold
them until we can officially marry in September."
"You are definitely a credit to your parents, Mrs. Potter." At this second reference to her in this matter, she
started, causing him to smile. "The wards prove what your father stated. In the eyes of whatever deities run this
universe, you are married. Who am I to argue?"
"Thank you, sir," Harry said seriously. "How are we working this at Hogwarts?"
"Leave that to me, Harry," Albus smiled. "Fear not, I will not separate you once the school year starts. If you
could perhaps hold off on children until at least after Christmas, it would also be appreciated."
"We'll only be sixteen!" he squawked. "I don't even want to contemplate bringing a child into the world until
I've at least left Hogwarts." He looked to Hermione and his eyes sparkled. "Practice, on the other hand…."
Hermione blushed prettily on cue.
Albus laughed. "I will be in contact before the thirty-first. You might wish to invite some people, but it would
be good to keep the numbers small for the time being. Perhaps only the Weasley family, and a few other friends from
school?"
"The Weasleys? I thought you said small," Hermione laughed.
Back to index
Chapter 7 by Kinsfire
Chapter 7
Chapter VII
Harry floated in the Granger's swimming pool, dressed in the Granger swimsuit of choice. I can not believe
how quickly I got used to being undressed around these people. I remember Hermione trying to tell me the definition
difference between nude and naked earlier this summer. I understand it now. I'm nude right now. When Hermione
teases me in front of her parents, reminding them that we're a sexually active couple, then I'm naked.
He laughed. Or when her mother comes out, determined to remind the world that she can easily be mistaken
for Hermione's older sister. He laughed again.
"What's so amusing, Mr. Potter?" Hermione asked him as she exited the house dressed exactly as he was. She
dove into the pool and swam over to him. As he stopped floating and stood on the bottom of the pool, she slid with
dolphin-like grace into a warm embrace.
"Just thinking about changes. Could you imagine me nude in your swimming pool back last summer?"
"Harry, I've imagined you nude in all sorts of places. And yes, this swimming pool is one of them. Would you
like to know what we were doing?" she purred at him.
"I think I can guess," he chuckled throatily as he stiffened against her. "I mean, if someone had told you last
summer that I would be comfortable, most of the time at least, walking around your house wearing nothing but a
smile, would you have believed them?"
"No." She chuckled. "You do like that sun-dress of Mom's though, don't you?" She giggled as he twitched
slightly.
"She looks so much like you!" he protested.
She started giggling again, but her face lit up like the sun breaking through the clouds on a stormy day. "That's
so sweet ," she said, nestling against his shoulder. "So, interested in getting in a little more 'practice' before any of
the Weasleys get here?"
He looked up at the clock hanging over the door to the patio. "Do you really want to be … umm … otherwise
engaged when they show up?" He laughed quietly. "Can you imagine Fred and George, and the ribbing we'd take
over it?" She nodded. "And then there's Ron. We're hoping to break it to him gently. Do you really want it to be by
you screaming an orgasm to the group?"
"Spoilsport," she purred in his ear.
"We probably ought to get out of the pool and dry off, and dress at least a little bit. We've got roughly half an
hour before anyone arrives," he said, and climbed from the pool.
The gods were listening and laughing at them, because at that moment, a sea of red hair flowed into the pool
house, led by the youngest of Molly's children. "Oh my!" was Ginny's breathless response to the sight before her,
while Ron simply said "Gkk!" a few times as he realized that neither of his friends was wearing a stitch, and that
Harry hadn't completely subsided from Hermione's attempts at getting him interested in some … water sports.
"Umm, I think you're early?" Harry said with a weak laugh as he grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his
waist.
"Aw!" Ginny said with mock sadness. Harry met Hermione's eyes and with a twinkle in his own, he moved as
if to remove his towel again. "Eek!" she squealed, and hid her eyes against Fred's chest. Harry just started to laugh.
"I'm sorry, Ginny. Too much time spent with the twins. It's the prankster in me. Actually guys, you caught us
as we were about to climb out of the pool and get dressed. Care to head back into the house for a moment to give her
a chance to climb out?"
"Do we have to?" George asked with a grin. Ron scowled deeply at him, but it was Harry staring daggers at
him that drove George away.
When they were alone, Harry said, "Wow! I can do the 'don't screw with me look' even when I don't mean
it! Cool!"
"It doesn't bother you that they might see me in the nude?" Hermione asked as she climbed from the pool into
the large towel that Harry had waiting for her.
"Well, part of me is insanely jealous that anyone other than your parents and me might see that beautiful sight,
but that's a part of me that thinks the way the Dursleys taught me." He grumbled at that thought. "Another part of me
thinks that I might as well let them, so that when you find someone better …"
"Harry James Potter, you know better than that! I can not possibly find someone better, because the best is
here with me, by this swimming pool!"
"Hermione …"
"I love you, Harry, and I do not want to hear you denigrating yourself in front of me again! Do you really
think so little of me to think I would merely settle for 'good enough'? I demand the best!"
He laughed. "If I may finish, I was going to say that I know that's merely the Dursleys talking through me in a
different way. You wouldn't feel the way you do for me if I wasn't worth it." He grinned at her.
She nodded and blushed at her outburst, nestling into the towel that Harry was holding around her, his arms
wrapped around her waist, now that the towel was fastened. He kissed her hair. "The part that's getting stronger every
day, the part that wasn't as embarrassed about being nude in front of Ginny as I once would have been, that part thinks
'Let 'em look. She sleeps with me tonight.' The part of me that was nude in front of Ginny, not naked. The part
that's starting to look forward to surviving the battle with Voldemort, so that we can get on with our long happy life
together."
He kissed her neck gently. "I think you've noticed me every night bowing my head in prayer. I've realized
that there must be a God of some sort, to have delivered me into the hands of the most loving and accepting family I
could have found. I thank that deity every night for your parents, since without them, you and I wouldn't be getting
handfasted on my birthday, and married on yours."
She loosened his grip and turned in his arms, and threw her arms around his neck. "When did you become
such a poetic soul, my husband?"
"It's always been there. I've just never had any real reason to release it before." He bent and their lips met.
It took Helen Granger tapping him on the shoulder to end the kiss. "I hate to end that, but the guests are
goggling through the glass at you." She grimaced. "I just hope we don't have to uninvite Ronald. He's fit to be tied
right now. I think he was hoping that you might fancy him, darling."
Harry looked innocently at Helen. "But I do. Didn't anyone tell you?"
The stunned look on the faces of both women made the statement worthwhile, and Harry started to laugh. "I'm
sorry, Mum, but that was priceless; that look was …" Harry doubled over laughing, holding his stomach. When he
could speak again, he added, "You really have to specify, since you call us both darling." He linked arms with
Hermione and they walked to the door.
---
I like this Harry better than the one I met at the beginning of the summer, Helen thought. He's still got quite a
distance further to go, but he's settling into a security with himself that wasn't there earlier. This is a Harry that might
actually be able to defeat this Dark Lord of theirs.
---
A short time later, after a quick shared shower where they actually only showered, they stepped into the large
family room together. Arthur was beaming at the two of them. The twins were obviously plotting something, as was
their usual state of affairs, while Ginny was still more than a little stunned at what she'd seen out by the pool. Molly
was frowning, but it was Ron that they were worried about. I hope this isn't what I think it is, Hermione thought.
"We're here for a reason, folks," Harry started to say. He reached out and took Hermione's hand and kissed it.
"I think you can tell that we're a couple now. What you don't know is that this caused the protections around the
Dursley household to go away. Completely." He smiled nastily. "Can't say as I'll complain too much about that," he
added. "Vernon is currently out on a rather large sum for bail, and awaiting his trial for child abuse."
Molly turned white. "He was actually …"
"Physically, too," Harry added in a flat voice. "Dad … uh, Doug? I think they ought to take a look at those
photos from my hospital stay." In answer, the envelope containing them hit the table. "The Order's attempts to instil
the fear of God into Vernon had the opposite effect. He became physically abusive, leading to that burn some of you
are getting a look at right now. Happened the day after we got home from Hogwarts. It wasn't actually treated until I
escaped in July, which means roughly two and a half weeks of that pain." He squeezed Hermione's hand. "It was only
thoughts of Hogwarts and my friends there that helped me get past the pain."
"I escaped and ran to Hogwarts, depositing my things there. Don't ask me how I got to the Gryffindor common
room through the Floo system – I just did, even though I shouldn't have been able to. From there I headed to London,
and called the Grangers. I didn't dare call your family, unfortunately, because you're members of the Order, and I
really was not entirely happy with the Order's handling of me to that point. I love you guys, but I was afraid that
you'd just hand me back to Dumbledore who'd drop me somewhere else I couldn't get free of."
He scowled slightly. "I was on the run right then – I wasn't exactly thinking clearly, and I apologize to you all
for thinking the way I did; about not trusting you. The pictures explain it, but still… I owe Tonks a serious apology
for almost killing her when she followed me to the common room." At the look he received from the Weasley
children, he explained, "I brought something heavy down on her head when she came through. Knocked her clean
out. Had the paintings run to get Pomfrey while I ran for … elsewhere. Ended up in Diagon Alley, and got money
from Gringott's. The rest, as they say, is history."
Hermione interrupted. "Some people may blame what happened next on Harry, but if it's anyone's fault, it's
mine. I've been in love with Harry; I've wanted to be his wife, since before I understood that's what that feeling
actually was. Well, we were out at the beach a week ago, and I managed to overhear him admitting to Mum how he
felt about me." She looked at Molly. "I'm going to be blunt now, so deal with it. I dragged him back to our hotel
room and convinced him that our desire for each other was mutual, and that I would not keep his teeth in a jar by my
bed if he acted on it. Our act of making love shattered the wards around the Dursleys, wards already weakened by
their treatment of Harry and the fact that we had admitted our love for each other. We have discovered since then that
we are going to annoy the hell out of people in London for a while – the anti-Apparition wards around us are roughly
four miles in diameter. I'm hoping those drop eventually, or it's going to get quite annoying trying to get my license,"
she laughed.
Harry picked the conversation back up. "You're here, really, for an invitation to two separate parties. First off,
on the thirty-first, we're doing a handfasting ceremony to temporarily cement the protection that Hermione now gives
me."
"You do know what handfasting is, don't you, Harry?" Arthur interrupted.
"Yes, sir, I do. It's the temporary marriage to this girl that will be cemented into a permanent one in the
wizarding world on her birthday. Yeah, I know it's faster than anyone would have expected."
"You think I'm not nervous?" Hermione said. "I'm sixteen. I come across as knowing everything, to which
there is no end to the parade of students reminding me of that attitude." Her eyes flickered to Ron for just a moment.
"The only place I'm truly secure, though, is here at home. Even then, until recently, I wasn't, not completely. Here I
am, a witch, living with people who I try to help understand my other world, but I'm never quite sure if they've gotten
it. I love them dearly, but sometimes I feel lost. Compound that with the fact that, in the Muggle world, I'm something
of a freak because my family isn't normal in our attitudes about nudity and sex, neither things to be ashamed of. Then
I go to the wizard world, where my attitudes are even less welcome, because they're about two hundred years behind
the Muggles. My being more intelligent than the normal student makes me even more of a freak. Is it any wonder I go
even deeper into the books? Why I don't form any real lasting friendships or relationships at school? I'm scared! I
can't dress the way I'd like to, the other girls make fun of me because I'm not as pretty as other girls like Cho Chang
and because I read all the time, instead of giggling over boys, and the boys are scared of me because I'm a bookworm
whose best friend is Hogwarts: A History." She shivered slightly, and Harry put his arms around her protectively.
"And now I'm getting married. Yes, I told my parents that my virginity was going to that man that I would marry, and
I decided a while back who that was, but it still doesn't hide the fact that I'm marrying at sixteen! Everyone's going to
think I'm pregnant! I wanted to wait until we had at least graduated." She sniffled. "I love him, but I didn't want one
of the reasons I married him to be that it was necessary to keep him alive."
"But it would anyway, Hermione," he whispered quietly in her ear. "Didn't you know that I have a rare
condition that can only be treated by regular doses of incredible sex with the most beautiful witch in existence?"
"Harry!" she squeaked, laughing. "Care to repeat that out loud for them?"
"Are you kidding?" he laughed. "Why do you think I whispered it?"
Douglas and Helen Granger looked to the assembled Weasleys. "There you have it. We all felt it best to hear
it from Harry and Hermione directly, rather than second- or third-hand." Helen hugged her daughter.
Molly looked on the edge of tears, and Ginny looked more than slightly crest-fallen. Ron looked ready to
explode, however. He clenched his fists and carefully walked to the door to the outdoors. He opened it and stepped
onto the lawn and walked quite a distance away from the house.
"What do we do?" Harry asked. "I want to go talk to him, but I think that Hermione and I are the last ones who
should be speaking to him at this moment. But if I don't, he might take that as an insult."
Doug spoke up. "Let me go over to him. It would probably be a good idea to be visible, so that I can make
sure he knows that you wanted to come over, but that I suggested against it."
---
Ron turned as Doug Granger approached. "Hello, Mr. Granger. I'm sorry for the attitude. I'm really trying to
work some things out."
Doug noticed that Ron was clenching and unclenching his fists. "Care to talk about it?" he said in a manner he
hoped sounded comforting.
"It hurts, y'know?" Ron said. "I've fancied your daughter for a while now. At least a year. I figured, 'Hey, I
may be scared, but someday I'll get the courage, and then we can be boyfriend and girlfriend. Now I find out today
that not only was that never going to happen, but she's getting married to my other best friend!" He bent his elbows,
bringing his fists up as if preparing for a fight. "I am so damned jealous of him right now! Part of me wants to hate
him for getting everything in life – money, fame, and now the girl! But then the part of me that is trying to be an adult
reminds me that it required his parents dying to get the money, and those pictures you showed us remind me of the
price of his fame."
"But I can't help but hate him right now, dammit! I would have liked the chance to find out what I really feel
for your daughter. I'm jealous of the fact that he gets to see her naked. I'm …" Ron's eyes shot wide.
Doug laughed as he realized the thought that had to be running through Ron's head at this exact moment. "It's
okay, Ron. I was your age once as well. I know what it's like to want to see a pretty girl without her clothes." He
laughed. "Besides, she'd kill you if you tried something." He didn't say that he much rather it be Harry seeing her
naked; this boy didn't need to hear that.
Ron laughed, a hint of bitterness colouring his voice. "How do I face them, though? How do I tell Harry I'm
happy for him when a part of me wants to be him – the part that has his arm around your daughter, and feels her
kisses? How do I tell your daughter that I wish I were Harry? I may make fun of her at the school, but I notice
things. I have this image of being this – well, this clown – it runs in the family, after all. Percy is the odd man out. If
I get too serious, they start to wonder what's wrong. Everything I know about love tells me that I love your daughter.
How do I face them with a smile, knowing that no matter how much I like Harry, and will be at his back against Vo…
Vol…You-Know-Who, part of me hates him so much for having something I want?"
Doug could see the tears that Ron was fighting hard not to cry, because of the stupid idea that men aren't men
if they cry. "Ron, this may sound weird, but I'm betting that they'll accept it if you tell them what you just told me.
It'll hurt a bit, and it might put a strain on your relationship for a while, but which is better – holding it in and
exploding someday, saying things that might permanently destroy things, or to put a temporary strain on the friendship
by complete honesty, and have an even stronger friendship later on? I've learned one thing about Harry this summer –
he values honesty above all else. He admits that he doesn't always practice what he preaches, but he tries." He
motioned over toward the house. "Look at them. They're over there, worried about you. They want you to be happy,
but they understand that you have feelings for her. What they're worried most about is losing you, Ron. It may not be
the way you want her to, but she does love you. You are one of the two best friends she's got." He laughed. "Let's put
it this way, Ron. When she came back from Hogwarts her first year, it took me forever to discover that there were
more male students at that school than Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and their enemy Draco Malfoy. She told me all
about the people who meant everything to her – her room-mates and you two boys. If you don't give up on them, they
won't give up on you."
Ron took a deep breath and finally said, "Sir? Could you send them over? Please? I'd like to tell them this
while I have the courage."
Doug nodded, and headed back to the group. "You two go on over." As they walked over to Ron, he turned to
the rest. "Please try not to tease him too much about this. The only other boy I've ever seen in that much pain is going
to be my son-in-law. He loves my daughter, and is trying to not hate his best friends."
Fred and George nodded solemnly. "We can't all be as lucky as Fred and I were," George murmured. "We
may be the eternal pranksters, but we have a heart."
Ginny looked pensive. "Maybe we can get him at least looking at another girl – and I think I know the perfect
one. She'd listen to him, and I'll bet if he bothered to pay attention to her, she'd help him." She laughed. "Besides, I'm
pretty sure she'd like him to see what's under her robes, if only he'll ask."
Back to index
Chapter 8 by Kinsfire
Chapter VIII
July thirty-first came around, and it was going to be a busy day.
Harry awoke at five-thirty in the morning, as was his usual for his birthday. He didn't know why that was the
case. Actually, yes I do. This was always the day I worked extra hard around the Dursley house. I didn't even begin
to think about enjoying my birthday until I got to Hogwarts and made friends. He moved and felt weight on his left
arm. He turned to find Hermione asleep on his left shoulder, her hair everywhere and her face free of cares. I know I
thank you every night, whoever you are out there, but thank you again for bringing such beauty into my life. He kissed
her cheek and carefully disengaged from her, reluctantly. So today I begin my life forever free of the Dursleys. In a
way, it's a pity. I wish Aunt Petunia were salvageable. She had one last connection to her dead sister, and she threw
it away. He snorted derisively.
He walked into the family room and picked up a book. He was more than a little annoyed at the fact that
someone had managed to schedule the start of Vernon's trial for that day. I understand that such a fast trial date is
unheard of. I wonder if anyone in the Ministry twisted a few arms? I wonder if they chose today's date on purpose?
He'd been reading for a few minutes before he began to chuckle quietly. I just realized what I picked up to take
my mind off things, he thought as he closed Hogwarts, A History. I guess Hermione is rubbing off on me.
…
Get your mind out of the gutter!
Why? It's fun!
You're blocking my snorkel! He laughed to himself.
"What's so funny, Harry?" Helen Granger asked as she came out from her bedroom, Doug right behind her.
He jumped to his feet and swept the both of them into a hug. "Thank you for the greatest present anyone has
ever gotten! If not for you two, there would be no Hermione. I could be happy never receiving another gift ever again
in my lifetime, knowing that she exists."
"You're welcome, but you still haven't explained what was so funny," Doug smiled at him.
"I was just joking with myself – thought something that could be taken two ways," he replied. "The fact that I
can do that right now, after these last few months? That's all because of you three."
"It's mostly because of Hermione," Helen said.
"True, but as I said, where would Hermione be without such wonderful parents?" He laughed again. "I don't
know if I'll ever stop thanking you for producing the most beautiful woman ever to grace the world."
"Why are you giving us presents on your birthday?" said a tired voice behind him. He turned to face
Hermione, and ran over to swoop her into a hug.
"Because you deserve them!" he cried happily. "For simply being you!" He kissed her rather thoroughly.
"If you keep that up, Mister Potter, you're going to be late to the courthouse, because I'll consider it my duty to
trip you and beat you to the floor, as Robert Heinlein used to say," she purred at him.
"Why must you put difficult decisions before me, my love?" he laughed. He twirled her around once and said,
"I'm free of them today! I don't even have to sign any paperwork – I just decide I'm not living with them anymore!"
He did a little dance that had the three Grangers laughing hysterically within moments.
"Breakfast first," Helen finally said, "and then we get ready for the courthouse."
Harry bounced into the kitchen. "What does everyone want?"
"Out!" Helen laughed. "It's your birthday, you are not cooking."
He bowed and permitted her to take control of her own kitchen. A short time later, they were on the long drive
to the courthouse, all properly dressed for a day in court.
---
I wish that he wasn't needed here today, Hermione thought. It's his birthday, and he has to see his old
guardian go on trial, and be threatened by his aunt and cousin for it. She had already watched his mood change from
the happiest she had seen in a long time to the brooding and moody individual she was unfortunately used to.
He'd been waiting outside when Dudley and Petunia had come up to them. Petunia started in on him
immediately. "How could you do this, after all that we've done for you over the years? We didn't have to take you in,
you know."
"You might wish to be careful, Mrs. Dursley," Harry said loudly enough that the barrister's assistant for the
Crown looked up and walked over by them. "After all, remember why your husband is on trial. Do you wish to be
added to the prosecution?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, turning white.
"I mean that if you admit, in front of witnesses, that you were aware of the treatment that your husband
permitted to happen under your roof, you could be considered an accomplice. In memory of your sister, I make no
such accusations."
Petunia Dursley apparently couldn't decide whether to turn white in fear or red in anger, so she alternated for a
short time, before stalking off. Dudley, on the other hand, stood before Harry, fists tightly clenched. "How dare you
do this to Dad after all we've done for you!" His fists came up.
Before he could swing, though, Harry said, "Witnesses, Dudley. Courthouse. Witnesses." Dudley snorted and
stalked off after Petunia.
It was then that Harry relaxed just a bit, and his face turned red. He began clenching and unclenching his own
fists. Helen Granger put her hand on his shoulder and said, "I may not have the right, Harry, but I'm proud of you
keeping your temper."
"It was difficult," he replied, turning to hug his soon-to-be mother-in-law. "But I discovered that releasing my
anger explosively the way I really wanted to wouldn't solve anything, back a couple months ago, in the headmaster's
office. Plus, it would actually help Vernon's case." He took a few deep breaths. "Doesn't mean that I didn't want to
beat the hell out of them both."
Tears threatened, but he quashed them ruthlessly. "I don't want to hate them as much as I do. That leads to
turning out like V … Tom Riddle. But after the treatment they've given me since I was fifteen months old, how do I
not hate them?"
Doug placed a hand on Harry's other shoulder, while Hermione flowed into his arms. "Hating isn't wrong,
Harry. It's often a driving force in righting some wrong. It's when you let it control your life that it becomes an evil
thing. When everything you do is somehow tinged with that hatred; a sense of revenge, if you will, then you're sliding
into Riddle territory." He squeezed Harry's shoulder once. "What do you intend to do now that you're free of them?
Remember, you're emancipated as of today; you need never return to them."
"Other than to get those belongings of mine that they haven't destroyed? I don't intend to deal with them ever
again, except when situations arise where I have no choice."
It was then that Vernon and his barrister walked by. After going momentarily puce, Vernon calmed and smiled
at Harry; a vicious smile, and then he walked into the courtroom.
"We get to sit out here, right?" Harry asked the prosecution assistant.
"Yes, Mister Potter. We'll call you when we're ready. For what it's worth from someone who doesn't know
you, I think you handled yourself marvellously around the three of them; quite the adult. Things should go well,
especially if you stay that calm when questioned. We don't expect this trial to last more than a week, to be honest, and
it is likely to be shorter than that." He nodded and entered the courtroom.
---
They had been sitting in the hallway for roughly an hour when a small crowd appeared. Ron Weasley led the
group, comprised of himself, Ginny, the twins, their parents, Minerva MacGonagall and Remus Lupin. Both were
dressed severely, but could pass for Muggles. "We're here for your support, chum," Ron said simply.
Harry stood and pulled Ron into a hug. "Thanks, Ron. Given that talk we had, you have no idea how much
this means to me."
"Hey, I need to give in to the inevitable," he said, not bothering to explain. "Need to get used to it."
"Tell me about it, Ron. Before this girl told me how she felt, I thought it was going to be you two. We almost
had bets on when the arguments would suddenly stop to be replaced with … well, let's just say that we were expecting
to hear robes rip and see clothing flying everywhere."
"Maybe you were, Harry …" Fred said.
"… but we all knew it was you and Hermione," George finished.
"Much to Ginny's chagrin," Fred added.
"Where'd you get an idea that love worked that way?" Ginny asked, confused.
Ron shrugged. "I never realized I was being that nasty. Maybe it's because I was used to being teased by
certain people *cough*FredandGeorge*cough* to a point where I thought that's how you treated people you love." He
turned to them. "You guys are the reason I hate spiders, you know."
Harry just jerked a thumb toward the courtroom. "I think those … creatures had a hand in it as well. I still
don't know that what I feel for her is love." He turned. "I just know that I'll die for her, and that life without her isn't
worth living." He kissed her forehead. "And I try to tell her how I feel daily."
"That's as good a working definition for the emotion as I've heard, Harry," Minerva MacGonagall said. "The
only improvement I've heard is that the other person's happiness is vital to your own."
"When did you start reading Robert Heinlein, Professor?" Hermione asked in shock.
"Ever since you accidentally left your copy of 'Time Enough For Love' in my office," she smiled. "Remind me
to return it when we return to Hogwarts. I am uncertain that I agree with his views on family and such, but he is an
interesting writer."
"Keep it," Hermione said. "I replaced it because I thought I'd lost it somewhere. If you want more of his work,
I can get you more."
"I think I would like that," came the thoughtful response. "He is a thought provoking author, even if you
disagree with him."
---
Harry shook his head. He was getting nervous. He really did not want to enter the courtroom at all, because he
knew he'd have to face Vernon and his barrister. Plus, the more he thought about it, the more he felt that later today
was a mistake. Hermione was tying herself to him for his protection. She loved him, but he knew she could do so
much better than him.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Ginny asked.
"In there. I know Vernon. He wins all the time. He told me so. That grin of his as he went in tells me he's
got something planned. I'm going to be destroyed in there, as far as my reputation goes." He laughed bitterly. "Then
I can be the crazy boy from St. Brutus's and that psychotic Boy Who Lived."
"People are fickle," he grumbled. "I'm the first one anyone blames as far as things go with … us, and I think
you know how I mean that. Until the situation works out properly, and suddenly those same people are 'Oh, we
always knew Harry was innocent!' Ernie MacMillan was one of them. Justin really wasn't any better."
He snorted. "I understand, and I forgave them, but I don't forget. Fourth year, when so many people
abandoned me because they knew I'd found a way around the rules." Ron blushed and ducked his head. "There are
still people in the other houses who know that I actually killed Cedric, did you know that? I hear them occasionally."
He turned to Hermione. "How's it feel to know that some people will be taking bets on when I get you killed, or kill
you myself, since I'm obviously crazy? Can you handle being ostracised by classmates that once liked you because
they happen to dislike me?"
"I will deal with it, because I know the real you, not the picture of you that gets built up by papers like the
Daily Prophet or the Sun." At the confused looks from the others, she explained, "Muggle paper like what people
think the Quibbler is like. Not entirely trustworthy." She looked back to Harry. "I know the you that thought of me
when you discovered that there was a mountain troll in the school. You knew I was crying, and came looking for me."
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "I never thanked you for risking your life by climbing that troll's back,
Harry." She looked to Professor MacGonagall. "I assume you've known the truth for a while now, of course."
"Not really, but I'm not worried. I saw the beginnings of a true friendship between you three that night, and
that alone needed rewarding." MacGonagall looked to Harry, who was blushing slightly. Her eyes fell to his hands.
"Oh dear!" said Minerva MacGonagall. "Your hand! I've seen the photographs, Mister Potter. Your hand simply
could not have healed that well in a month. I'm afraid I shall have to … may I?" She asked. When he looked
questioningly at her, she said, "I'm afraid that I shall have to go against everything I believe in and inflict a horrifying
injury on a student … and a friend," she murmured. "I need to make your hand look like it has undergone a month's
worth of burn recovery in a Muggle hospital." When he nodded, she looked to Hermione. "Help me, my dear? I
shall need a good idea of when it looks proper, and that I simply can not do, not being from your world."
She palmed her wand and began to Transfigure Harry's hand. He inhaled sharply as the burning sensation tore
through him, and he looked at Hermione as they worked. He let himself fall into her looks – the way her hair lay, the
gentle tears at the corners of her eyes from the pain she was helping to inflict, the quivering of her lip every time he
grimaced anew. The pain flowed around him as he looked at her, and soon they were done. He looked down at his
hand, and winced. It wasn't as ugly as it was at the beginning of the month, but it certainly wasn't pretty. The skin
was cracked and peeling in quite a few spots, even if it did appear moist. Hermione smiled weakly and quoted,
"'Merely corroborative detail intended to add artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative.'"
"'Will you refrain from putting in your oar?'" her mother replied with a sad smile. "I truly wish this weren't
necessary, son."
Minerva MacGonagall actually had a tear in her eye, an unusual display of emotion for the assistant
headmaster. "It's all right, Professor," Harry said. "You were right. If I walked in there with a perfectly healed hand,
then a case could be made for my having made everything up. Besides, if I have to come back again, we simply cover
my hand in bandages and a large glove next time. I think I can wear something like that for a while." After a
moment, he asked, "Will I need to do healing potions to heal this?"
"You could," Hermione replied before MacGonagall could, "but Transfiguring it back would actually be easier.
We couldn't have healed your hand before because it wasn't an intentional Transfiguration that did it. In this case,
however, since your hand was carefully Transfigured to look like that …"
"I get it!" Ginny said. "Since his hand was good a minute ago, and you intended it to look like that, resetting to
its healed state will be easy. Making it healed from what it was in the beginning of July would be more difficult
because it didn't have an easily accessible memory of what it was like before!"
"Miss Granger, have you considered teaching?" Minerva MacGonagall asked with a smile.
"Yes, but I'm something of a know-it-all, and I get exasperated if someone doesn't get what I think is an easy
concept. Something I'll have to work on, no matter where I work."
The door to the courtroom opened and a bailiff appeared. "Mister Potter? The Court requires your presence,
please."
---
Harry walked the steps downward from the doors to the witness box. It would not normally be a long distance,
but Harry, in his own way, truly was on trial here, as opposed to merely feeling as if he were. Am I going to see one
of these per year now? Last year trying to decide whether or not I should have allowed Dudley and I to be murdered
by Dementors, and now this. I can only assume Fudge will try to bring me up on charges for daring to handfast
Hermione. He walked holding his left hand against his body carefully, not letting it be seen by anyone.
He finally reached the witness box, and swore that the testimony that he would give would be would be honest
and truthful. He did his best to ignore the snort from Vernon, sitting in the dock. Vernon's barrister walked over to
the box. "Hello, Mister Potter. Harry, I believe it is. May I call you Harry?"
"I have no complaints about it," Harry replied calmly.
"Well, Harry. It's no real secret that you and your uncle haven't really gotten along over the years, wouldn't you
say?"
Harry snorted. "That's safe to say."
"So, do you have any idea why this dislike exists? What reasons that your Uncle Vernon might have for
disliking you?"
Harry frowned. "All I have is some thoughts on the matter. I have no proof of any of it."
"Conjecture, then. Why doesn't he like you?"
"I understand that he didn't get along with my parents. Perhaps he's never quite forgiven my father for
something."
"What did your father do?"
"Honestly, sir? I don't know. I never knew the man, and no one has ever told me. I have the fantasies that any
child does of thinking that his father was some sports star, or maybe an agent in the fight against evil with a capital E,
but I also know that those thoughts are fantasies," he smiled. "I've never had a conversation with anyone who really
knew my parents." He was more than a little surprised that the barrister was letting him answer these without stopping
him.
"So if you found out that your father was unemployed, what would you do?"
"Not to be cheeky, sir, but ask what he was unemployed from. What kind of industry did he work in?"
"What if you found out he'd never worked? That he'd lived off the dole for years?"
Harry knew he was fishing for something to get Harry angry, and a part of him really wanted to give the man
the satisfaction. My dad died for what he thought was a good cause! Damn Vernon to hell! Taking a breath, he
finally said, "If it was provable, then I'd be sad at the loss of a dream. If it's just a suggestion with no proof behind it,
then I'd ignore it until proven otherwise."
"You seem to have gotten somewhat angry at the suggestion that your father may never have worked for a
living. Care to explain why?" The barrister's smile reminded him of a shark, even though no teeth were visible.
"He was my father, and I never knew him. As I said earlier, I have fantasies of him doing great things. If he
was unemployed and never worked in his life, well, it …" He laughed suddenly. "It means that my father wasn't
secretly MI-6, or MI-5, or whatever it is. It means Dad wasn't the real world version of James Bond." He shrugged.
"Illusions are nice, but they don't put food on the table."
"Unlike Vernon Dursley?"
"True, his job with Grunnings brings money into the Dursley home."
"His wife is your aunt. Why don't you refer to it as your home? After all, you lived with them for all these
years, when you weren't at school."
Harry sighed. "Are you really sure you want me to explain? It won't be complementary to your client."
"Your uncle. Yes, tell us about the treatment you've gotten at his hands." The barrister was rather smarmy at
the moment, and Harry was curious just what Vernon had done to feel secure about this treatment.
"Well, until I was eleven years old, my bedroom was the cupboard underneath the stairs. Quite often, I was
locked in it. I was moved to Dudley's second bedroom after my first year at my school."
The barrister interrupted. "What school might that be?"
Harry laughed. "It's a small school in Scotland, named Hogwarts. I go there on a legacy scholarship. It was
either from Mum or Dad."
"What do they teach at this school?"
Ah, there's his tactic – make me look insane, or even get my wand snapped. He looked puzzled, though. "I'm
not sure I follow you, sir. It's a school. They teach the subjects you'd expect – History, Mathematics, the sciences …"
"What sort of 'sciences'?"
"Well, we've had animal biology, plant biology – we've even had astronomy courses. Maybe they're not exactly
standard course-loads, but I seem to do all right in them." He grimaced. "Don't get along well with my chemistry
teacher, though. Personality clash or something." He finally looked up into the gallery and saw Minerva MacGonagall
smiling and trying very hard to stifle a laugh.
"No unusual classes?" the barrister pushed.
"How do you define unusual? We've had interesting things happen in some of the classes."
"Such as?"
Harry was glad that Hermione had looked up some Muggle chemistry for him. "Well, there was that small
explosion one time in chemistry class. We all learned that too large a piece of sodium in a container of water can get
… interesting. And bright."
"None of your classes are anything but normal?"
Harry looked over to Vernon and saw that he was trying very hard not to turn puce. "I can't really say, sir. I've
never been to a school of this level other than Hogwarts. I can only assume that our course-load is similar to other
schools of its type." He shrugged, smiling inwardly. "I'm not sure what you're looking for, to be honest." Harry
paused. "Should I continue describing growing up at the Dursley house?"
"No, quite all right," the barrister said, looking a bit grey. "No further questions at this time, but we retain the
right to call him at another time."
The judge nodded. "Prosecution?"
"Mr. Potter," the Crown prosecutor started. "I think I would like to know more about your life growing up at
the Dursley home. I understand that you felt it a bit disturbing."
"Well, getting to age eleven thinking it was normal to be locked in a cupboard under the stairs, receiving things
like broken toothpicks on your birthday, and then finding out that your classmates have families that don't look at them
as a burden …"
"Objection!" Vernon's barrister shouted.
"Overruled. You permitted his opinions in your questioning. You can't have it both ways, counsellor.
Continue, Mr. Potter."
"Yes, your Honour. Well, I don't know if they were removed, but for the longest time, there were multiple
locks on the outside of my bedroom, once they had moved me up into Dudley's second bedroom. That's how they
always referred to it. It wasn't my room; it was mine by sufferance. There's a pet flap installed in that door. That's
how I'd be fed sometimes. A tin of stone cold soup or something of that sort would be pushed through the flap for
me."
"How about your treatment at their hands?"
"Well, I have to thank them for the fact that when I'm of age, I can probably start my own landscaping
business. After all, the garden that they've won awards for was almost entirely done by me most of the summers.
Let's see my chores were – mowing, weeding, pruning, painting buildings, making breakfasts that I would sometimes
be permitted to eat if they left any, all the garden work, cleaning the car, washing the sidewalk, painting the fences
around the back, painting the low brick wall in the front – basically if there was outdoor work I did it. Then, moving
indoors, there was mopping the floors, doing the dishes, doing all the laundry, setting the table for all meals, scrubbing
the water closets and bath rooms, dusting, cleaning up after Dudley which happens to be a full time job in and of itself
– it comes down to the same thing. If there was a chore, I did it."
"Builds character, working. What kind of pocket money were you given for this work you did?"
Harry couldn't help it; he barked a short bitter laugh. "Pocket money? What's that? All that work I
mentioned was how I paid for the privilege of being fed at their sufferance and living under their roof, as I was often
told by Uncle Vernon at the top of his lungs. I didn't get paid; I paid them with my labours."
The room was silent, and he met Hermione's eyes. Her hand was to her mouth in horror and shock, and he
could tell from her face that she was trying very hard not to cry.
"Let's talk about this year. You came back from school, and what happened?"
"I don't know. All I know is that I was made to sleep in the cupboard once again, sharing the space with my
school trunk."
"It wasn't all that roomy in there when you were younger and smaller, was it?"
"No."
"So what happened?"
"First day back, I made breakfast. Eggs, scrambled; and bacon. They like them hot, so I carried the pan over.
As I headed back after serving them, I tripped for some reason. My hand landed in the pan, and suddenly Vernon was
holding me down and threatening me. I don't really remember what he said. I was in too much pain. I wasn't
permitted to go to the hospital to treat it."
"Show the court your hand." Harry held up his left hand, and heard various gasps around the room. "With the
court's permission, I enter the following photographs and X-rays into evidence, items A through T." The photos and
X-rays were handed to the judge, who shook his head and allowed them into evidence. "Why is your hand
unbandaged, Mister Potter?"
"Probably not the smartest thing I could have done, but I figured someone would want to see the damage, and
anyone can wear a bunch of bandages and maybe a glove. This way everyone can see the hand and know that it's
real." He prayed that the answer made some sense with what the prosecutor had asked.
The prosecutor smiled. "Proof that no 'magic' was done on the hand, Mister Potter?"
Harry started, and then laughed weakly. "Trust me, sir. If I'd been able to do magic this summer, I would
have," he replied, and held up his hand. He was intrigued to note that Vernon flinched. Oh, not good, Vernon. Your
mistake.
"Your hand looks cleaner and, well, better than one would expect for only a month's worth of healing. Why
didn't it go septic?"
"I assume that it was the fact that I daily had to clean the floors and such. I simply ensured that I did the final
cleaning of the day late at night, and soaked the hand in a water and bleach mixture. It might not have been easy to
deal with, as far as being painful, but I wasn't permitted access to the medical supplies in the Dursley home."
"I find it worrisome that you are so able to speak of what must have been intense pain, and that your aunt had
nothing to do with helping you."
Let's see if I can get Aunt Petunia really annoyed by protecting her. "Well, what good is screaming and crying
over an injury really going to do for me? You get used to it after a while. As for my aunt, I assume – well, Uncle
Vernon runs a tight ship at home, if you understand me."
"I'm not sure I do. Elucidate," the prosecutor replied.
"He likes things just so. A place for everything, and everything in its place. My choices are to assume that my
aunt was a willing participant, or that she was better at following Uncle Vernon's orders. I assume the latter." He let
his eyes drift to his aunt, and the raw hatred there was astonishing.
The prosecutor did not miss this, and smiled. "Mister Potter, were you aware that there was a fund set aside for
your upkeep, being paid to the Dursleys on a monthly basis?"
Harry's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean to say that there was a substantial sum paid to your aunt and uncle on the first of every month to pay
for a proper upbringing for you."
Harry stared at Vernon, who was now grey and shaking slightly. "You mean to tell me that there was extra
money coming in to pay for the added expense of my being there? I was not, in fact, an extra burden on their already
tight purses?" Harry's hands clenched as he stared at his uncle, and he didn't even noticed that he had begun to bleed
from the left hand. "I wish I could do magic right now, uncle," he grumbled. "I'd turn you into the pig you are."
He looked down at his hands finally, and visibly brought himself under control. He looked up at the judge and
said, "I beg the Court's pardon. My outburst was uncalled for."
Vernon's barrister moved that Harry's outburst be struck from the record, which was denied. The judge turned
to Harry and said, "Your outburst is understandable, Mister Potter, but will be tolerated only once. Please control
yourself and do not allow another such outburst to happen."
"Yes, your honour," Harry said meekly. "Again, your pardon." A nurse was quickly called for, and his hand
was bandaged.
---
Harry sat through another two hours of questioning from the Crown's prosecutor, bringing out the treatment at
the Dursley hands. He was there as information came out, again and again, how radically different his upbringing had
been from the average child's. Documentation of James Potter's Muggle assets came forward, and Harry had been
astonished. He learned quickly that these were above and beyond what was in Gringott's. The amount of money paid
per month for his upkeep would have kept him quite comfortable.
Hermione was getting scared. After his outburst to his uncle, Harry had gone cold. He had gone inside
himself. She knew how difficult it was to break him free of that when that had happened. What's worse is that he's
going to fake being happy, for me.
Damn it, we were supposed to be getting handfasted today, and this has to happen. Today, of all days! She
wiped viciously at her eyes, trying not to cry, while Helen Granger put her arm around her shoulders.
Eventually, the questioning was over, and he was released for the day, with the admonition that he needed to be
available for further questioning at another time. Well, we'll be with him for the next few days, Hermione thought. He
nodded and walked from the courtroom.
They followed him out the door, where he sat down and clenched his fists. Blood began to seep through the
bandages. "I am working very, very hard at not letting my emotions get the worst of me. I hadn't thought it possible
to hate Vernon Dursley more than I already did. I starved and slaved for them, and they took money meant to raise me
and spent it on themselves!" He was shaking with rage.
Douglas Granger touched his shoulder and said, "Harry, I know it doesn't help much, but I'm sure that a bug
can be put in the Crown's ear on this matter. Force the Dursleys to pay back what was stolen from you."
"I suppose," he murmured.
Molly interjected. "They're done with you for the day, right, Harry?" When he nodded, she said, "Well, we
should see to that hand." She grabbed his arm and began to pull him toward the rest rooms. Minerva and Hermione
followed in her wake.
They began to chuckle as they realized that Molly was dragging him into the ladies room. Harry froze, causing
Molly to stop in her tracks. "That's … "
"Hermione, dear, will you be a dear and head in to warn any ladies that we're bringing a man into the room,
for medical reasons?" Hermione chuckled and did as asked, discovering that the room was empty. Harry was quickly
dragged into the room.
Hermione couldn't hold it in anymore; she began laughing. "Harry, you've faced Voldemort multiple times,
and you're terrified of being in the ladies rest rooms?" The others flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord.
"Him I understand. 'Kill Harry Potter and take over the world.' Simple. Girls are a mystery." He said it with
such honesty and sincerity, and with such a straight face that Hermione hugged him gently as she chuckled.
"Well, you'll have a long life trying to figure us out," Minerva smiled as she began unwrapping his hand.
"Once this is unwrapped, we'll clean the bandages and wrap the hand again until you leave the building." In short
order, Harry's hand was back to its previous unburned state. Molly Scourgified his bandages, and they quickly had
them back on his hand, just as someone entered the room. "We needed somewhere to tend to his hand," Minerva
explained at the woman's shocked look. They rushed Harry from the room.
"What took so long?" Ron asked.
Harry turned to the ladies, and his eyes sparkled for just a moment. "Do I have permission to tell him about
the Jacuzzi and the masseuse? Or will we need to be Obliviated now?"
"Huh! So it's true!" Fred and George said in unison.
"Alicia told us," George said.
"And Angelina backed her up," Fred added. Hermione caught the twinkle in their eyes, and the wide look in
Ron's.
"Can we keep you boys sworn to secrecy?" Helen asked. "I'd really hate to have to tell the Sisterhood that we
have to change everything now."
Ginny looked at Helen with annoyance. "Great. Now they know about the Sisterhood. Now they need to be
Obliviated. Warn their girlfriends that they need to go onto full snog alert."
Hermione grabbed Harry without warning and proceeded to kiss him rather thoroughly. His arms flapped a bit
uselessly at first, but then moved to enfold her, and began to return the kiss with interest. When the kiss finally broke,
she was blinking. "What were we talking about?" she asked breathlessly.
"Getting out of here for a wedding," Helen said firmly. "We need to get moving." She took charge of the
group, and in short order they were packed into the Granger van and the Ministry car that the Weasley family had
managed to secure, and headed back to the Granger household.