Chapter 11
Chapter XI
What a month or so this has been, Helen Granger thought as she stood in the darkened kitchen, looking out at
the sky. There was some light pollution from London, but that didn't hide all the stars. Meeting Hermione's boy from
school – I mean really meeting him; discovering that the Dursley family are even worse than we thought; marrying our
daughter off to this boy to keep him safe; discovering that we actually love him ourselves as he is … what a month!
She shook her head. Hermione's got good taste in men, though, she chuckled to herself. Far too much self-
hatred, but given his upbringing, that's not a surprise. Even given that history, he's probably the most caring and
over-all loving young men I've ever met. She saw her daughter in the garden, also looking up at the stars. She was in
the grass, on her back. Helen chuckled. Kids don't know I saw them last night out there – married a week, and I think
they've made love everywhere around this house that they can. I know they've tried out the shower and the tub, and
caught them in here once – Harry having what I suspect is becoming his favourite meal. She felt her own nipples
stiffen as she remembered the sheer joy on her daughter's face. Neither had realized she was there, and she had backed
away quickly – and Doug had certainly not complained about her mood when she returned to bed. It's too bad about
that injury he took when Hermione was eighteen months old – would have been nice to have given her a brother or
sister. We've certainly been active enough to have rivalled the Weasleys for family size.
Harry was so funny when he finally realized that we all shave – he'd known about Hermione because of that
day at the beach, but seeing even Doug clean shaven? Now even Harry shaves, after his handfasting night. She
laughed softly into the dark night. I'd imagine the thought of Hermione sneezing while deep-throating him scared him
or something. I wonder where he is right now? He'd usually be out there with her, trying to … distract her. She must
have tired him out.
She loved this time of night, when there was only enough light in the house to light your way without tripping,
but not enough to be distracted by all the things that might need doing – barely enough light to see your hands in front
of your face, but it was enough for her – and apparently Harry as well. She was always a night person, and she'd
discovered that Harry had developed that habit in the last few months. Neither of them had night fears – he'd had so
much done to him over the years that mere darkness in a house couldn't scare him. They'd had some interesting, and to
be honest, frightening conversations in these last few weeks, sometimes joined by Hermione, sometimes not. The
horrors that she had heard Harry talk about, and the depth of pain that he had experienced was beyond belief
sometime. Part of her wanted to yank her daughter from that world – pull her home and keep her safe. But then she
would hear Harry talk about Hermione, and realize that she might well be the only thing keeping Harry sane. Besides,
this Voldemort person hates people like Doug and I, so that makes us no safer, having her home. And as a friend of
Harry's? More danger than I care to think about. She's actually safer with him than without him.
She heard the gentle pad of bare feet come into the kitchen, and she opened her mouth to say something, but
heard a quiet, "Shh," and smiled, especially when fingers gently began tracing lines along her back. God, I love it
when Doug gets like this. He's going to get a surprise, I think. I was about to go jump him – something about having
two horny teenagers in the house gets me hot and bothered. She began to shudder deliciously under his gentle
ministrations.
His hands came around her gently, caressing her stomach, and she felt it quiver in anticipation. She felt his
cock nestle against her rear end, but she was far more interested in those hands at the moment. They slid up to cup her
breasts, and his fingers gently teased the straining nipples for a few wonderful moments before his right hand slid back
down her body, teasing her stomach, then tickling her smooth pubic area, before sliding to his real destination. She
was already quite prepared for the delightful intrusion, and as always, Doug's fingers searched for her clitoris. Finding
it, he proceeded to perform his magnificent torture. He loves doing it in this position. I think he enjoys the way I feel
when I grind my ass against him. She punctuated her thought by doing just that, and felt him respond by pressing
forward slightly. God, I love that feeling almost as much as feeling him in me, she thought happily. Knowing I do that
to him still makes me giddy after all these years.
She felt that familiar quiver in her stomach and against his fingers – one that Hermione apparently shared with
her, she'd learned in their talks – one that signalled an impending explosion. Just before she could fall into it, he
stopped, causing an intake of breath on her part. She could feel his smile as he brushed his lips across her shoulder,
and thrilled as his hands moved to her hips. God, yes! He pulled her backward a bit, to make entering her easier, and
then touched the tip of his cock to her eager opening. He slid slowly but easily into her. Those exercises have
definitely paid off – this is a tighter fit than I'm used to! Oh God yes!
His thrusts were maddening – he'd slip out rapidly, but slide back in slowly. She could feel him twitching
slightly, and she knew he was about to come. Good, we'll do it together, she thought as she felt her own release
screaming to be let loose. She felt herself starting to ripple against him, and his delighted hiss as he breathed in was
music to her ears. A moment later, he was pressed against her as hard as he could manage as he spilled his orgasm
into her just a moment ahead of her own crashing through her.
As she felt the last of his twitches inside her, she moaned out, "I think we're going to have to have them move
in with us permanently, Doug. It's had a great effect on you." She felt him stiffen, and not in a good way, and then
felt him yank out of her. As she spun, she saw the outline of a man definitely not her husband, tearing down the
hallway. As she heard a slam, she called out his name – "Harry! Oh my god – Harry!"
The door to the back opened, and Hermione came running into the kitchen. "Mum? What happened? Why
are you calling Harry?" A short pause, and then, "Can we turn on the lights?"
Helen clicked the lights on and replied a little shakily, "We have a major problem on our hands, dear, and it's
going to need a family meeting, if we can keep Harry from doing something rash." Doug came tearing into the
kitchen in time to hear his wife's reply to their daughter.
"What happened, Helen? I heard a slam in Harry's room, and then you calling."
"I was out here in the kitchen, enjoying the night, as I do sometimes. I was against the counter when someone
who I thought was you started caressing my back, teasing little patterns in it … Hermione?"
Hermione had gone white. "How far did Harry go?"
Helen nodded at her daughter. "He was almost as good at knocking my socks off as your father." She looked
at her own husband. "Doug?"
Doug blinked. "My god – given his history with the Dursleys? It was bad enough when I played that stupid
joke on him …" He suddenly bolted down the same hallway that Harry had. "Harry!" he yelled through the door.
"Don't do anything rash!" Helen came up to the door as he listened through it. "Nothing."
Hermione came back from her room with her wand. "He's not there. We might need this." Her father tried the
lock, and found the door locked. He rattled it, for whatever reason people do, as Hermione aimed the wand at the
door. "Alohomora!"
The door stubbornly refused to budge. Doug stepped back and kicked the door as hard as he
could. It refused to budge still, and Doug was now favouring his other leg.
Hermione quickly cast a healing spell on her father's leg, and then looked at the door. "Sorry, but we have to."
Helen didn't hear what she said, but the door simply … vanished. Helen followed her child into the room, to find a
parchment on the desk. Helen picked it up as her daughter repeated the performance with the bathroom door. Before
she could read it, she heard Hermione shriek, "Harry! No!"
Helen ran into the room carrying the parchment and shrieked herself as she saw the tub that the young man was
lying in – the water was brilliant red, and Hermione was finishing the job of healing the long deep cuts on his arms.
His eyes were open, and he wasn't unconscious, but neither could it be said that he was conscious either. "Hermione!
Fireplace. Dumbledore. Now!"
She heard murmuring a moment later as her daughter ran from the room. She held Harry's head above the
water, holding him loosely to her breast, refusing to let tears fall until this situation was under control. Less than five
minutes later Albus Dumbledore came literally skidding into the room, Doug steadying him before he could fall.
"What has happened?"
"Let's get him to the hospital first," Helen said. "He was smart enough to cut down the length of his arm, rather
than across his wrists, damn it to hell! There's been serious blood loss, and … oh hell, there's no way we can keep this
out of the papers!" Helen felt tears coming from her eyes.
"Yes we can," Albus said. "I've already contacted Poppy – sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Granger – that refers to the
Hogwarts nurse. She is a fully registered Healer, and she understands the need for secrecy. She is luckily at Hogwarts
on one of her weekly visits to ensure that everything will be ready for the return of the students. I have asked that the
fireplace in the ward be opened to Floo traffic for a time – we will close it later." He created a stretcher and loaded
Harry onto it, and in short order was stepping through green flames to the Hogwarts hospital wing.
By the time the three of them joined Dumbledore in the Hogwarts infirmary, Harry was already in a bed,
covered by a sheet. An obviously still tired Madame Pomfrey was kneeling next to Harry, and cast a spell on him,
which seemed to wake him up slightly. "Drink this," she ordered, and without thinking, Harry did. After it was
finished, she gently sent him back to sleep, and then turned to face the Grangers. Her eyes widened slightly, and
levitated three robes to them. "Now, what happened to make the boy lose this much blood?"
Helen looked down at the parchment still in her hand. She lifted it.
---
Forgive me.
I just destroyed the trust of everyone worth anything in this house – my wife and her parents. After this, I don't
deserve to live.
Doug – she didn't know, and neither of us spoke. The first words spoken were a thank you to you after I …
Helen – I don't deserve your forgiveness. My apology is as meaningless as I am.
Hermione – I … I can't. There's no excuse. The violations this morning are beyond number – one of trust each
for you, your mum, and your dad. The physical one of your mother. The violation of our marriage. The violation and
probable dissolution of your parents' marriage. The list goes on. Please find the most vile method you can to dispose
of my remains – I deserve it.
Goodbye. I won't be able to destroy anyone else anymore.
Harry
---
It would be kind to call it a scrawl. It was hard to read, since it had obviously been written as fast as he could
manage. She looked up at Doug. "Doug? You know what happened. What is your reaction – what will you do when
Harry comes back to us?"
Doug looked at her. "It's a serious shock, but he made you happy, right? I think you said he blew your socks
off almost as well as I do?" She nodded. "Are you going to leave me for him?"
"Hell no!" she cried out.
"I knew that, but the question had to be asked. Most important question can be asked when the four of us are
together again."
Helen looked to her daughter, who had sat down beside Harry and was holding his hand. "You know what
happened as well. Do you still love him?"
She looked up with tears in her eyes. "Always and forever. That's what I promised him, and that's what I'm
giving him." She opened her robe slightly and put his hand on her chest, between her breasts. "Feel that, Harry? It
still beats for you. I still love you."
Madame Pomfrey was tapping her foot. "Care explain it to those of us who will be treating him?"
Helen looked to Dumbledore. "Does she know about the handfasting?" At the nods of the two Hogwarts staff,
she began. "Well, I was in the kitchen watching the stars when someone I thought was my husband came in and gave
me a rather erotic massage. Let's just say that my son-in-law mistook me for my daughter in the extremely low light
conditions, and gave me a rather impressive internal massage, if you understand my meaning. When I called him by
my husband's name, he realised what he'd done, and ran for his room. As his note says, he tried to kill himself because
he thinks he's destroyed three lives."
"Four, Mum. Don't forget that he thinks he's lost … me," Hermione's eyes widened as she spoke. "He thinks
he lost everything, and destroyed himself. So he decided to do so physically."
Madame Pomfrey's face was a study in conflicting emotions, and she looked as if she needed her own services.
Finally, she looked at Hermione. "You learn such interesting things about the students sometimes."
"Don't you just?" Helen asked with a wry smile. "One of your patients just got handfasted to a practicing
naturist, and is learning it himself."
"I think I learned it too well," Harry said from the bed, surprising everyone.
"How … I gave you a sleeping draught – how are you awake right now?" Madame Pomfrey said, stumbling
over her words.
"I don't know," Harry said numbly. "I just woke up. I was hoping not to, after that." He closed his eyes again.
"Shortest marriage in wizarding history, I'd imagine. Get married in the evening on my birthday, and before the
marriage is more than a week old, I go and … oh hell." He looked up at Doug and Helen, who were looking at him
with worry in their eyes. "I'm sorry – more sorry than I will ever be able to put into words. If I'd only been willing to
allow speech, this never would have happened."
"Why are you beating yourself up over this?" Doug asked. "As odd as it's going to sound, given the
circumstances, it's an honest mistake."
Harry's look told Helen that right now, Harry considered her husband full blown barking mad. "Excuse me? I
walk into the kitchen and violated your wife? An honest mistake?"
Helen chose to speak up. "We've talked about this already, Harry. And speaking as the violated one, I can tell
you that first off, until you reacted, I thought that you were Doug, so I didn't feel violated, and still don't. Second,
we'll be having a family meeting about this, but I can already tell you that under extremely specific, and I do mean
extremely specific circumstances to be talked about later, I wouldn't complain about being violated like that again."
She walked forward, leaned over and kissed Harry's cheek. "Thank you. It does this old lady's heart good to know
she can be mistaken for her sixteen year old daughter in all the ways that count."
---
Harry looked stunned at Helen, and then looked to Hermione. It was then that he realized that his arm was at
an odd angle, since she hadn't let go of his hand. He could feel her heartbeat under his palm. "It still beats for you,
Harry." She grinned at him. "You apparently blew Mum's socks off."
"She wasn't wearing any," he said blankly.
"Not after that, I wasn't!" Helen laughed, and her husband and daughter joined in.
Harry couldn't stop it; he felt the tears coming, and tried ruthlessly to quash them, even by shoving a knuckle
into his eye. They came anyway. "Why can't you understand?! I deserve to be punished for what I did today!
Because I acted without thinking this morning, I broke my wedding vows to Hermione!"
"Harry, you thought, given the light level, that my mother was me. You already heard her thank you for the
compliment. We need a family meeting about this at some point, but I'm not going to leave you over this."
"You should. Once again, Wonder Boy does something without thinking, and lives get destroyed." He barked
a laugh, one of the unhappiest sounds he'd ever released. "I don't know which is worse, being directly the cause for
someone's death, or directly the cause for the destruction of trust, and possibly marriages."
Hermione looked at him for a long moment before speaking. "Harry, I know what you said, and we are going
to punish you. We'll punish you in what you'll consider the worst way possible." He looked at her. "We're going to
keep loving you as we always have. You're still my husband, and they still are happy to have you as a son-in-law."
He looked to them, and they nodded. "And I'll expect you to do to me what you did to her," she whispered in his ear.
"I want you still, Harry. If Dumbledore and Pomfrey weren't here, I'd be making an effort to prove that to you."
Her face looked pained suddenly. "Please don't ever do that to me again, Harry. There is no problem so bad
that we can't at least try to work it out. We might not be so lucky next time." She hugged him. "To find your
husband lying in a bathtub, turning the water red with his blood …." She shivered. "Harry, I told you so many times
our wedding night. I. Love. You. Get that through your apparently thick skull. Know that I won't leave you for
this." She smiled sadly. "We're going to keep loving you."
"Even when I don't deserve it?' he asked, somehow sounding both small and insignificant, and yet defiant at
the same time.
"That hasn't happened yet, Harry, so we'll worry about that when it comes, won't we?" she said with a note of
finality in her voice. He could see that she was serious. She actually didn't see what he'd done as wrong.
None of them do. Does that mean that it's my problem, or that they can't see something that I think is
blindingly obvious? He scowled. Hermione's right, though – next time we might be this lucky, and quite honestly, my
life isn't my own at the moment. Voldemort has to go first. "Why?" he asked suddenly.
"Because we love you, and because our views on sex are what most people consider perverse," Doug said.
"Harry, what happened was unusual, and unlikely in the extreme. I think that anyone not privy to the conditions in the
house would say that you had to know what you were doing. Your reaction after finding out tells me otherwise." He
walked to the other side of the bed. "I don't ever want to go through this again, Harry, but the fact that you felt so
horrible over what you thought you had done tells me everything I'll ever need to know about you, and what you were
feeling. As far as you knew, in that light, you were making love to my daughter." He grinned and looked at
Hermione. "Who, somehow, despite all that's happened since you came into our lives permanently this year, is still a
virgin. It's a dad's prerogative to carry that delusion," he laughed.
"It's another reason I feel so out of place here, Harry," Hermione said. "The attitudes in the wizarding world
are a result of the extreme life-spans. The headmaster here is what, one hundred and fifty something …"
"Almost one hundred and sixty," Dumbledore interjected.
"… exactly," Hermione nodded. "Almost one-hundred and sixty years old. One of your proctors for your
O.W.L.s was someone who had tested him for his O.W.L.s! And no one thinks twice about it! That puts the thought
processes somewhere in the mid to late nineteenth century, assuming that social mores mirror the Muggle era in
question. Unless I misread something …" she paused while Harry snorted, "… thank you. Figure the Victorian Era."
"Charming woman," Dumbledore said. "Horrible problems, but a charming woman if she chose to be."
"So, into this society of Victorian sensibilities comes a … a Mudblood – I used the term on purpose Harry, so
stop scowling – whose attitudes are even a bit far out there for Muggles, which is how she was raised until she was
almost eleven. A girl who would be perfectly comfortable sitting in her classes dressed in nothing but a warming
charm …."
"None of the guys would be comfortable," Harry murmured. "Not with that figure you've got."
"Thank you, Harry." She looked up at Dumbledore. "Will we be getting our own quarters at some point? Oh,
and another question came to mind – are we going to announce that we're already handfasted, or will we allow
everyone to assume that this September wedding is the first one?"
"I believe that is up to you," came the headmaster's reply.
"We might be able to set a trap for Voldemort if we let him assume that it's the first one. Come up with some
story – hell, even use the real one – the Dursleys broke his protections by abusing him, and he'll garner some new
protections by marrying the most beautiful woman at Hogwarts. He'll settle for me, though," she finished with a grin.
"Yeah, the most beautiful woman at Hogwarts. I see your point, though. Set you up to be kidnapped by
Moldieshorts before the wedding. What he doesn't know is that we're set up for him." Harry scowled. "There's one
part of that scenario that really bothers me, Hermione, and that's where you get put in danger because you're going to
marry me." He held out his arms so that his palms were up, exposing the area that he'd sliced open shortly before.
"You saw what happened when I thought I'd lost you through my own stupidity. Imagine if you get killed at
Voldemort's hands, because you intentionally put yourself in harm's way. I'd much rather live to twice the
headmaster's current age, getting to know my great-great-great-great-grandchildren than to commit suicide taking
Moldie out. If you die, I will have no reason to live, Hermione. You keep me sane; you make me whole; you keep me
alive. It's not hipe … hyper … oh hell, overstating the case to say that I will die without you, Hermione. I think I
proved that today, without meaning to." He scowled. "I still think I deserve it, to some extent, for this morning."
"Hyperbole," came Hermione's blank reply as tears sprang to her eyes. "I didn't understand why you'd done
that, but now I do. You thought that I'd hate you, and demand to never see you again, didn't you?" He nodded.
"Aren't you glad that we're considered weird, as Muggles go?" She paused. "'Moldieshorts?'"
"Gotta call him something, and if people can know who I'm talking about, and laugh about him, it stops making
him quite so scary, and easier to fight, right? Since everyone does this He Who Must Not Be Named garbage …
you've seen how Ron flinches very time I use the name Voldemort." Madame Pomfrey twitched. "She proves my
point. Call him Moldieshorts, or something equally as ridiculous, and you take away some of his power, don't you?"
"Excellent reasoning, Harry," Albus Dumbledore said with a wide smile. "I believe that I shall start using that
name in conversations, with your permission, of course?"
Harry laughed. "Go ahead!" He turned serious again quickly, though. "As for what happened this morning, it
will never happen again, though."
"That's something we'll talk about later, Harry," Doug said firmly. "Suffice it to say that you should learn a
lesson from Sean Connery." At Harry's puzzled look, he added, "'Never Say Never Again.' Movie title came about
because Connery said he'd never play James Bond again. They convinced him otherwise. What I'm trying to say is
that you shouldn't make a sweeping statement before all the facts are in, okay? We'll talk at the family meeting."
Harry nodded numbly.
Harry looked at his professor, and felt small. "Sir, I haven't been a very good student this last year or so – hell,
I can't say that I was all that good a person, and now this happens. Do you have any respect left for me, if you ever
had any?"
"Harry, my boy, I respect you a great deal more than you think, and am sorry that I have done things to lose
your respect. I hope to regain some it by treating you as you deserve. One of those things is to inform you that there
will be an Order meeting on Friday, and it will be somewhat necessary that you come. After all, a very important and
intelligent young man told me that the Order's stated goal was to support you in the battle against Vol …
Moldieshorts." The aged wizard's face split with a wide grin. "That does feel good to say, I must admit. As I was
saying, however, if our goal is to support you, then you should be a full member. I will also request the presence of
your wife and her parents, as well as Ronald Weasley. After all, you are likely to tell at least Ronald and your wife
about what you learn, since they are your closest confidants." He turned to the Grangers. "And you, whether you like
it or not, have been thrust into the midst of a battle that you might have wished to avoid. But as you said, this is war,
and sides must be chosen, once you know it exists."
"I just wish there was a way of giving them the ability to do magic themselves, sir," Harry said. "That would
give them further ability to fight Moldie, and well, it would help them understand their daughter a bit better."
Dumbledore scowled in thought. "There might be, but it would likely be quite dangerous. Not to them, per se,
but to those involved with the process. Let me study the problem, and I shall update you Friday. In the meantime, we
shall return you home. Harry, I will be having a wizard psychologist that I trust with my own secrets contact you so
that you may work through this day's events. One does not attempt suicide and then simply walk away as if nothing
happened."
Harry nodded. "It was stupid of me, I know."
"No, Harry, it was not. But suicide is, as I once heard someone say, a permanent solution to a temporary
problem. Ignoring Moldieshorts for now, you are far too valuable as yourself to throw that away. Not as The Boy
Who Lived, or the prophesied one to fight Tom, or anything else dealing with that line of thinking. Harry Potter,
nothing more than the student of Hogwarts, husband to a wonderful woman, and son by marriage to two very
intriguing people – that young man is far too valuable to let be lost. Valuable for himself; not for what he can do."
"Thank you, sir. I'll try to be worthy of your belief in me."
"You already are, Harry," the old wizard said. "You already are."
Back to index
Chapter 12 by Kinsfire
Chapter 12
Chapter XII
It had been a week since Harry's attempted suicide, and Hermione was trying to revivify her love life with
Harry. He would cuddle with her, but even though he was obviously quite interested in more, he refused to let it
happen. She was currently laying on her back in the back yard again, thinking about the conversation she'd just had
with Harry. He was currently talking with her mother.
---
"Hermione, I'm sorry, I can't," he said. "I'm not worthy of something so precious anymore."
"Harry, we all told you that we forgive you. Dad was right. It was unusual and extremely unlikely, but it
happened, and the fact that you … you …" She shuddered as she remembered finding Harry semi-conscious in the
bath tub, his blood darkening the water. "Your trying to kill yourself afterwards tells us all that you never meant it to
happen."
He shuddered. "My problem is that, in my own mind, I cheated on you. Would you accept it if I'd slept with –
oh, let's pick a name – Cho Chang, even if I were drunk at the time? If the note had said that I'd slept with Cho Chang
while drunk, would you be as forgiving?"
She looked at him for a long moment. "Okay, fair question. Now let me make it more on an equal footing, and
I'll answer the question. You're drunk, as opposed to tired. You're horny, which has recently been a normal state for
you." She smiled as she said it. "You're blindfolded, and asked to wait in a room for me, where I'm going to be
brought to screw your brains out. Being blindfolded, you enjoy it when something hot and wet surrounds your cock,
and you both orgasm. Only after she finally speaks do you discover that you just fucked Cho Chang." She crossed her
arms. "I wouldn't be happy, just as I can't say that I was utterly thrilled that Mom knows how good you are. But given
a situation where you don't know until after, such as a week ago? Yes, Harry, I will still love you. I've told you this
since the moment you woke up in the hospital ward at Hogwarts. I still love you. I will continue to love you. And I
fully intend to bear multiple children of yours someday, Harry James Potter, so be ready for that."
He laughed a bitter laugh. "The only things I've done right in this life so far had to do with you. Saving your
life – well, that was Ron, really – was one of them. Telling you I love you was another, and agreeing to marry you.
Any decision that's purely my own? Forget it. Cedric dies. Siruis dies because I can't tell the difference between fact
and fiction, and go haring off, dragging him somewhere dangerous, where he gets himself killed. And because I
couldn't control an itch that I thought needed scratching, your mother now has knowledge that I think no one in this
house is really happy that she has." He sighed deeply. "And no matter what you say, I can't help but feel that I've let
you all down."
"Harry, you haven't let me down. And to be honest with you, if that had to happen, then you did it with the
woman I feel best about it happening with. She treated you well, you treated her well, and she's not going to try to
steal you." She paused. "Harry, last I knew, Mum was in the family room. If she's still there, go talk to her. She was
always able to help me sleep at night, when I needed it most. Let her be the mother you've never had, and let her try
to help you."
"Okay," he said, unconvinced. "Where will you be?"
"I'll be out in the back, near the pool, star-gazing."
---
She heard the sliding door open, and then the lights to the pool clicked on. She sat up to see Harry looking at
her, and he dove quickly into the pool. Hmm, was he … maybe I'd better climb in the pool and find out …. She dove
into the pool herself, and guided herself toward Harry underwater. She opened her eyes as she neared him, and found
that she had certainly been right. Slowing to almost a stop she gently slid up his body, feeling his erection quiver as
they touched. Breaking the surface of the water, she said, "Hello, love. Feeling better?"
"A bit. She's helped me see that I'm punishing you by trying to punish myself." His eyes suddenly held his
entire heart in them. "Even after that, you truly still love me?"
Her answer was not verbal. Instead, she pressed her lips to his and kissed him. Almost immediately her tongue
brushed his lower lip, entreating him to let her inside, which he did. The kiss was hungry and passionate, and she
knew that her heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it. She smiled to herself and wrapped her legs around his
waist, pulling him as tightly to her as she could. "Harry?" she whispered. "Please love me again."
"I've always loved you, Hermione. I just never admitted it until recently."
"No, love me. Physically." She nibbled gently on his ear and whispered again, "Fuck me, Harry. I want
you." When he paused, she added, "Please, my love?"
He responded by kissing her again and grabbing her buttocks. He lifted her enough to free his organ from
between the two of them, and she reached down to guide him inside her. The contended sound she made as he began
to stretch her so deliciously was somewhere between a sigh and a moan. "Oh gods yes, Harry!" she whispered in his
ear as she grabbed his neck. "Make me yours again."
He began to gently thrust again, and as she looked in his eyes, she let all the love she still felt for him shine
out. His own eyes widened, and she could see the hint of tears there. She lost track of time as they simply enjoyed
each other's body, expressing their feelings in the ultimate physical fashion. Finally, on her second or third orgasm
(she wasn't sure, and she really didn't care – as long as it was more than one), she felt him swell slightly, and then he
came, pressing into her as tightly as he could.
When she was able to focus, she saw Harry staring lovingly into her eyes. The haunted feeling from the last
week was still there, but she could tell that he felt … cleansed is really the only word that fits here, I think, she
finished in her thoughts. "Hermione?" he asked. "When was the last time that I told you that I love you with
everything I am?"
She chuckled as she said, "About a minute ago, Harry. You fuck marvellously."
"That's not what I meant, Hermione," he started to say.
"I know what you meant, Harry. I was looking in your eyes. Anybody can take a man or a woman between
their legs and have a nice pleasurable bout of sex. You made love to me, Harry. You didn't merely have sex, or fuck
– you made love to me." She hugged him even tighter. "You loved me a minute or so ago, Harry – it just happened to
cause an orgasm." She kissed him passionately on the mouth, and giggled into his mouth as she felt him stiffening in
her again. "We have a week to make up for, Harry. Care to start now?"
---
The next morning, Harry awoke to the feeling of weight on his right arm. He turned to face Hermione, and
suddenly realized that not only were they still outdoors, but the beach umbrella was open above them, blocking the
sun. They also had a light-weight blanket covering them. He smiled and kissed Hermione's cheek.
She opened her eyes slowly, and smiled when she saw Harry's face. "Good morning, Mr. Happy," she said
with a yawn.
"Oh, he's awake too," Harry laughed, and pressed closer to her. Her eyes widened.
"I was only joking about making up for that week, Harry! Not that I'm complaining, but we have to go into
Diagon Alley sometime soon, and I want to walk straight." She looked at him for a moment, and before his face could
fall, she said, "Oh, the hell with it. I'm yours, Mister Potter." She slid under the blanket, and soon he felt her mouth
surround him, and he pulled her close enough to do what they had taken to calling French kissing. He felt her moan as
he teased her mercilessly, and in short order, they had properly woken each other.
---
"I don't suppose you two would be interested in a second breakfast?" Helen asked with a naughty grin on her
face. "You certainly seemed to be interested in getting your fill a short time ago."
Blushing, Harry said, "Thank you, Mum. For the talk – for everything. I'm still going to be working it
through, but you convinced me that all I was doing my way was hurting my wife."
"Well, the four boys from Liverpool said it all those years ago, but it's true. All you need is love. With our
love supporting you, you'll get through this, Harry. We all will." She turned to Hermione. "I think what you've been
waiting for has arrived, dear. Very late, and I think they'll want your response as for classes you'll take back as fast as
possible."
Hermione ran to the family room table, where two letters sat. Opening hers, she found her O.W.L. results, a
listing of classes available for sixth years, a blank sheet of parchment and a letter of explanation from Minerva
McGonagall, telling them (since Harry's said the same, once he'd opened his letter) that the extreme lateness was due
to arguments concerning the grading of the Astronomy examinations. They were expected to fill in their preferred
class lists as soon as possible and return them to the school. She looked to her O.W.L. results.
---
Ordinary Wizarding Levels for Hermione J. Granger
Written Practical Overall
Ancient Runes E N/A E
Arithmancy O O O
Astronomy A* A* A*
Care of Magical Creatures O O O
Charms O O O
Defense Against the Dark Arts O O O
Divination N/A N/A N/A
Herbology O O O
History of Magic O N/A O
Muggle Studies O O O
Potions O O O
Transfigurations O O O
Total 11
*
Due to an incident during the examination, all results were set to Acceptable. A retest will be available to all
who wish to attempt to better this result.
---
"Rats!" Harry said. "I was hoping you'd get twelve."
"I saw no reason to take the Divination O.W.L., since I think that Trelawney is such a fraud. I decided to spend
my time on worthwhile pursuits, like doing well on all my other classes. I'm still annoyed about that Runes grade
though. Astronomy I'll take again, since they're offering."
"I will too," Harry said with a laugh. "You worked so hard to help me study that it doesn't seem right to let a
simple Acceptable go. I'll bet you a hundred Galleons, though, that Ron lets his stand."
"Sucker bet," she laughed in reply. "Not taking it. So, how'd you do?"
"Well, I know I got at least one O.W.L.," he chuckled.
---
Ordinary Wizarding Levels for Harry J. Potter
Written Practical Overall
Ancient Runes N/A N/A N/A
Arithmancy N/A N/A N/A
Astronomy A* A* A*
Care of Magical Creatures E E E
Charms E O E
Defense Against the Dark Arts O O*** O
Divination A A A
Herbology E E E
History of Magic D** N/A D**
Muggle Studies N/A N/A N/A
Potions O O O
Transfigurations E O E
Total 8
*
Due to an incident during the examination, all results were set to Acceptable. A retest will be available to all
who wish to attempt to better this result.
**
A retest will be offered, since there has never before been a student attacked during an exam.
***
The proctor stated that if there were a grade above Outstanding, this student would have been granted such a
grade.
---
"Before you ask – yes, I'm retaking History of Magic. You think I want a Dreadful on my grade record?" He
smiled at her.
"Hmm, I am rubbing off on you," she smiled back. He leered at her with a twinkle in his eyes. "Harry!"
Smiling demurely, she said, "At least give a girl some recovery time."
"Okay," he said. Looking down at a non-existent wristwatch, he said, "How about now?"
She playfully swatted his arm, and sat down to her list of classes. "Snape's going to hate that. You managed to
get an Outstanding in Potions? You can take his N.E.W.T. level class now. That's one of them you need for Auror
training, right?"
He scowled. "Yeah, but I'm not so sure about doing that anymore. Yeah, it would be nice to track down and
catch the bad guys, but … I don't think I'm really cut out for that, you know? Maybe I should talk to Professor
McGonagall?" He looked up to the clock and realized that it was nine AM. "Maybe I can ask her here for some
career counselling?"
"Get dressed first," Helen said. Harry jumped from startlement and headed for the room he now shared with
Hermione. "May need to put a sign up in your room, when Hogwarts gives you married quarters. 'Did you remember
to dress?' He may need it, or else the other girls in your dormitory are going to get quite the eyeful."
"Agreed," Hermione said. "He is great eye candy, though, isn't he?"
"No denying that, dear. Go get dressed yourself, and then you can call this teacher while Doug and I get
ourselves ready."
---
A short time later they were sitting in the family room with coffee and crumb cake while Harry explained the
situation to the deputy headmistress. "The Department of Mysteries scenario really brought home to me the other side
of being an Auror, and what I learned afterwards hit even harder." He told her the prophecy, knowing that she was in
the Order. "I'm not a killer. I don't want to kill anyone, but I know of at least one murder I have to perform, even if
it will be considered an execution, or self defence, or whatever. But it comes down to not wanting to kill. And the
Auror job is one where I'd have to, on a regular basis, be prepared to kill. Saving the world from bad guys sounds
good, but I'm learning the dark underbelly of the job, and I don't like it. I think it would turn me into someone that
wasn't worthy of this wonderful family. It would turn me into someone that Sirius wouldn't like." Mentioning his
godfather's name brought memories back to him, and he bit back a sob. "Sorry. I've never had a chance to really
grieve for him." He shook his head and continued slowly, pushing his grief behind him. "What I was saying was that
if I become an Auror, I might become the kind of person that would disappoint my parents. I don't want that. But
what else do I do with my life? Become a Quidditch player? Yeah, I could, but what's that really going to get me in
life? What do I do with my life?"
Minerva McGonagall looked at Harry and Hermione for a long moment before saying, "Have either of you
contemplated teaching? You did quite well teaching your fellow students – at least those who chose to be part of that
'illegal' club were well prepared. Because of you, we did have a real Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. It was
you. Perhaps you should contemplate a teaching career, Harry."
He thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Which courses would you suggest for me, then?"
She frowned for a moment. "I would recommend no more than six this year. That goes for you as well, Mrs.
Potter. You are used to taking as many classes as you can, but you have other, far more important studies to deal with
this year. Real world studies. You are now handfasted, and on the nineteenth of next month, any authority that could
have a problem will see you as married. Keeping your partner satisfied is a far more strenuous study course that will
take the rest of your life." As both Hermione's and Harry's eyes twinkled, she added, "As for that side of the
equation, I imagine that you've quite got that figured out, if the night of your handfasting was any indicator." She was
rewarded with a blush from them both. "No, I refer to all the other things that make a couple happy. Leaving the
toilet seat down. Knowing what annoys the other, and avoiding it whenever possible. Saying 'I love you' for no other
reason than the fact that you love them."
Harry looked at Hermione, and Minerva McGonagall could see what people meant when they referred to these
two communicating without words. She could almost read it herself. She definitely read the 'I love you' that passed
between the two, but missed most everything else.
"Okay," Harry said. "I'll take six this year, and take six next year. I'll have the most brilliant witch in
Hogwarts tutor me in Arithmancy during this year so that I can properly take it in seventh year." He absently waved
for his quill and inkpot, and both his and Hermione's floated out. He quickly marked down Potions, Charms,
Transfigurations and Defense Against the Dark Arts before stopping to think.
"I would actually recommend avoiding Muggle Studies and History of Magic, if you are considering teaching,
Harry," Minerva suggested. Smiling, she added, "I know that seems scandalous coming from me, but they will serve
you the least. I would recommend Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, and I can talk to the teachers of those classes. I
think Amanda Vector will accept you as a student." He nodded and marked those two down on his course load and
handed her the sheet. "Thank you." As Hermione handed her the sheet she had just filled out, Minerva smiled. "Have
a care to pay attention to classes, please. It appears that you are taking the same course load." She stood slowly. "I
hate to eat and run, but we are reaching the end of our summer, and to get the school year going in full swing will
require much more paperwork. I fear that I must leave you now. Be sure to get your books soon." She pointed at the
blank sheets, which were no longer blank.
Before she could leave, she was stopped by Hermione. "Professor? Harry and I came to a decision about
letting people know. As far as Hogwarts is concerned, we're only engaged. We're doing it to get him free of his
abusive aunt and uncle. The fact that I happen to love him madly, passionately and with every single fibre of my
being is just icing on the cake, so to speak." Minerva looked to Harry, who nodded.
"Very well. I shall inform Professor Dumbledore." She smiled. "You realize, of course, that you will each
have to spend eighteen days sleeping in your old dormitory rooms, then?"
They looked at each other, and Harry quipped, "Well, it looks like I'm sleeping on the common room couch for
eighteen days." Hermione nodded as she added, "Me too." When Minerva raised an eyebrow to the two of them,
Harry replied, "I can't sleep without her anymore, ma'am. I have much more restful and peaceful nights when I can
hold her in my arms. So, I'll sleep in the common room for a while."
Minerva laughed. "I'll see what we can manage." Her gaze unfocused for a moment, and then a wide grin
crossed her face for a moment. "Yes, I think that will work perfectly, and I will not be surprised to discover that Albus
has already planned for it." She refocused and said, "You shall learn what I'm thinking about if it comes to pass." She
tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and disappeared.
---
As she disappeared, Harry said, "You surprised me with that last, but I support the reasoning. I don't mind, as
long as the 'madly, passionately' part is mentioned." He laughed at the last. "Do we at least admit that we're engaged
when we go to Diagon Alley?"
"Hell, yes!" she exclaimed. "You think I don't want to show off this ring? That I bagged the sexiest and most
wonderful man in the Wizarding world?" She grinned. "You tie with Dad on wonderful as far as the Muggle world is
concerned." She looked to her father. "Sorry Dad, but you're not even a contestant as far as sexiest is concerned.
That sort of thinking is a bit squicky, you know?"
Doug chuckled and walked over to the phone, and put it on speaker as the other end rang. A few moments
later they heard a female voice asking, "Hello? Weasley residence."
"This is Douglas Granger. Is this Miss Ginny Weasley?"
"Yes, it is," she said, and they could hear her smile. "Should I get Mum for you?"
"Not necessarily. Have you made your trip to Diagon Alley yet?"
"Not yet. We were going to go this weekend, now that Ron got his O.W.L. results. Mom is so pleased – he got
nine!"
"Tell him congratulations from all of us. How does the group of us meeting at the Leaky Cauldron sound?
Maybe about noon?"
"I'll mention it to Mum. Might as well assume that we're on for it if you don't hear back from us."
"Ginny!" Hermione said quickly. "Pass word to everyone who was at the handfasting that we're pretending to
be engaged, rather than already married. We're doing it to rescue him from the Dursleys, and the fact that he's mind-
numbingly wonderful and sexy is an added bonus for me," she ended with a laugh.
"Gotcha, Hermione. One of these days I'm going to get revenge on you, by the way. I'm not sure how or when,
but I will."
"Whatever for?" came Hermione's too-innocent reply.
"You know darn well what for, girl!" Ginny laughed. "We'll see you on the weekend, okay?" At the
affirmative from the Grangers, the connection was ended.