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Hermione Full of Grace	By : AdamantEve Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 13378 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Thank you, Aurabolt, for beta-ing this fic in the way it needed
to be!

Standard disclaimers apply.

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Chapter Nine � Guidance from the Wise

In which Harry
and Hermione consult their respective guardians.

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After Harry and Hermione separated at the Ministry the
following morning, Harry hurried to his office in the hopes of getting there before
Shacklebolt remembered to look for him.

Unfortunately, Shacklebolt was
to his trainees as Mad-Eye Moody was to danger: Constantly vigilant, and within
minutes of Harry�s arrival, Shacklebolt had him
rushing off to one minor incident after another.

Gail was with him the entire time, of course, but she was
sensitive enough to be extra efficient that day and not chatter on too much
about insignificant things. Harry tried
his very best to be nice to her because he appreciated her efforts.

They returned to the ministry late for lunch and he
wondered if he could still catch Hermione for the break. He flooed her and
soon, he was looking at her through her tiny fireplace. Things would be so much easier if her
fireplace was full-sized. He�d be able
to step into her office anytime and he could speak to her face to face, but he
supposed her workspace wasn�t big enough to accommodate such a big hearth.

She was smiling at him and he couldn�t help but smile
back. He loved this woman to death and
he didn�t know what he would do when
she left them for someone worthy of her.

�Hullo, Interrogator Granger. Had lunch yet?�

Her look was apologetic.
�I already grabbed something in a hurry about an hour ago, Harry. I�d join you for lunch, anyway, but I promised
Mr. Archibald I�d have a petition ready for him in about thirty minutes. I can�t skive.�

He was disappointed, but he understood completely. �Of course you can�t. Are you still going straight to Hogwarts
tonight?�

�Yes.�

�Ron and I can drop by Hogsmeade
later if you can squeeze us into your busy schedule.� He hadn�t consulted Ron on the matter, of
course, but if Ron wasn�t handy, he had no problem going to Hogsmeade
all by himself to meet her.

Again, the apologetic look. �I�ll floo you,
alright? I�m really not sure if I can.�

More disappointment, but he shrugged. �But you�ll be back tomorrow, won�t you? Promise me lunch.�

Her bright, luminous smile returned. �Definitely, Harry. I�ll try to drop by later at your office
before I set off for Hogwarts. Hope
you�re there.�

�You can blame Shacklebolt if
I�m not.�

She chuckled.
�Well, I�ll see you tomorrow then, if not tonight. Take care while I�m gone.�

�You too, Hermione.�
He wished he could reach through the fireplace and touch her.

The flames dwindled and her image disappeared.

He sighed. One day
without Hermione and he was acting like he�d never see her again.

Pathetic, he thought, grinning in spite of
himself.

He looked up from the fireplace and just about saw Remus Lupin turning a corner.

Just the person I
need to talk to!

Harry hurried to catch up with him and caught him down one
of the many hallways. �Remus! Got a
minute?�

Remus turned and smiled. He looked tired, and worn, especially with his
sloppy brown suit and drooping, lusterless hair, but then the poor man always
looked like that. The lifestyle he led,
werewolf that he was, tended to wear him out.
�Of course, Harry. How may I be
of service?�

Harry went up to him and moved slightly to let a witch
pass them. �I was wondering if we can
talk privately.�

Remus seemed to give it a quick
thought. �Well, I know Shacklebolt had you out all morning. Have you had lunch yet? Tonks and I were
just about to go, but I can tell her you and I have to talk��

�Oh, we can take her along. I don�t mind if she doesn�t.� He trusted Tonks
almost as much as Remus, the only exception being
that Tonks couldn�t apparate
into Grimmauld Place.
Harry had wondered about it for quite some time, until he realized
Hermione probably didn�t want Tonks stumbling into
their home and blowing off parts of the house in the process. Hermione adamantly denied she was the one keeping Tonks from apparating, but Harry
surmised one couldn�t keep one�s true intentions from the magic of the
house. Harry actually thought it was
funny, but Hermione thought it a spiteful subject.

�I would never be so awful as to keep Tonks from apparating into our home, Harry!� she had hissed. It was apparently a sore spot, so Harry
hadn�t brought it up again, even as a joke.

Remus smiled. �Excellent, then! We�ll go somewhere quieter, so we don�t have
to shout above the noise.�

Harry surmised they had probably originally planned on
going to the Leaky Cauldron and he felt a little shy about changing their
plans, but when Tonks was informed, she seemed quite
pleased.

�Well, this is a nice change! I�ve lately grown tired of the Leaky
Cauldron�s fare!�

Remus looked a little distraught at
this declaration. Apparently, he
would�ve wanted Tonks to have been more honest about
it sooner.

Tonks had a hankering for Spanish food,
so they ended up apparating to a secluded street by
the muggle restaurant Cocina de la Madre.

Hermione had brought him and Ron there once, under Ron�s
protests, but she had a mission to �broaden their horizons� and she was
absolutely insistent. As it turned out,
Ron rather liked the food, as did Harry.

They were settled in a cozy spot to the side and the low
murmur of conversation was just perfect for a nice, relaxing ambience. No one was ogling him, which was
excellent. In Muggle
London, he was just another four-eyed bloke.
Tonks got stared at more with her pink,
stand-on-end hair; then again, not by much.
There were many muggles in London who wore pink, blue and green in
their hair.

�Well, Harry,� said Remus. �I see you practically everyday and I don�t
know a thing about what�s happening in your life!�

�That�s Shacklebolt�s fault,
dear,� said Tonks, almost knocking her drinking glass
over when she reached for it.

Harry blushed, knowing that in spite of the truth in Tonk�s words, he had his own share of the blame. �I�m sorry, Remus. I�ve been preoccupied.�

Remus smiled. �Of course you are, Harry. I remember when I was training. The only days I had off was when I had to
cope with my Lycanthropy. You�d
understand why I never considered them holidays. It�s alright.
I�m just glad we had this chance to catch up. How have you been, Harry?�

Harry knew he at least owed Remus
a personal account of his life. So he
told Remus and Tonks as
much as he could recall, and it was easy conversation.

Their food came in a bit and it was a pleasant break in
his story telling.

Tonks eagerly piled beef stew on his
and Remus�s plates before she took some for
herself. Never mind that some of the
sauce splattered on their dress shirts.

�So, Harry,� began Tonks with a
twinkle in her eyes.

Remus saw it and obviously knew what it
meant. �Now, Tonks,
sweetheart��

�Oh hush, Remus. Let me have my fun,� she said loftily. She turned to look at Harry. �Have you been seeing anyone in particular,
lately?�

Harry grinned but eyed her suspiciously. �No.
Why?�

She smiled. �Well,
I happen to know a whole gaggle of witches just dying to meet you and make you
happy, Harry Potter.�

Harry could have laughed as he exchanged looks with Remus. �You think
I�m not happy?�

�Oh, it�s not that.
Just that I know for a fact that there are things in life that become
infinitely sweeter in the company of a loving witch, is all!�

He grinned.
�Hermione takes care of that part, thank you.�

Tonks and Remus�s
eyes widened and Harry immediately realized he had been misunderstood.

�We�re not�you know�dating or anything like that,� he
stammered. �She�s my best friend and� just
that�that is to say, she takes good care of me, is all��

�Oh,� said Tonks.

�We knew that,� said Remus, who
was suddenly very interested in his food.

Harry sighed.
�Honest!�

Remus smiled. �And how are Hermione and Ron?�

Harry didn�t know if Remus meant
to ask about �Hermione� and �Ron� or �Hermione and Ron.�

Tonks was less subtle, or else just
tactless. �Have they finally gotten
together, then?�

Remus tossed her a disapproving
look.

�What?� she asked.

Harry�s grip on his fork tightened. If he had a knut
every time someone asked him that�
�They�re not together. They won�t
ever be. Ron and Hermione don�t fancy each other
anymore. They told me so.�

�Well, that�s tragic,� said Tonks. �They seemed so right for each other.�

Harry scowled. �Apparently
they thought they weren�t.�

Remus�s eyebrow arched. �And of course, they�of all people�would know
that. But I think it makes sense. Those two never agreed on anything; not like
you and Hermione who seem to agree on everything.�

Heat rose up in Harry�s cheeks. �We don�t always agree,� he muttered.

Remus coughed. �Well, of course not always always, but often enough. Lily and James sort of had that same dynamic.
They�d argue, but only so they could come to an agreement. Unlike Ron and Hermione, who only argue for
the sake of it.�

Harry couldn�t seem to look Remus
in the eye. �Right.�

He turned his gaze and caught Tonks
staring at him with an arched eyebrow all her own, as if she was just realizing
something.

Suddenly, that restaurant seemed very small. He shoved food into his mouth and drank some
wine to wash it down.

�Bright witch, that Hermione,� said Remus. �Always admired what she could do. I had a notion before that she would be right
for you, Harry, but then I had supposed that if you ever thought that way of
her, you�d have done something about it already.�

Harry almost choked on his food and Tonks
had to slap his back several times to help him get the food down the right
way.

�Good heavens, Harry!
Have some water!� cried Tonks, shoving a glass
in Harry�s hand and sloshing half of it on his lap.

�I-I�m fine,� Harry croaked, downing what remained in the
glass. He pounded a fist on his chest to
force it to find its natural rhythm again.
�Food just went down the wrong�what was that you were saying, Remus?�

�I was just saying that if you liked Hermione at all, you
would�ve done something already. You
know� asked her out, maybe.� Remus took a long drink of his water before pointing to his
plate. �Oh, these sirloin strips are delicious,
Tonks dear.
Have you tried them?�

She smiled. �Oh,
yes. So, Harry�Hermione�s single? That�s fortuitous! I happen to have a slew of wizard friends��

�No!� he snapped fiercely.

Tonks and Remus
froze, shocked at his tone.

Harry�s eyes widened at his own vehemence. �Oh shite�
s-sorry! I didn�t mean to�that is�Tonks��

Her features softened.
�That�s alright, Harry. So� how
long has this been going on?�

Harry sighed at his own careless show of emotion. There was no use playing dumb. He knew what she meant. He wasn�t surprised Tonks
figured it out. She was an auror whose powers of deduction had been honed by years of
experience. Besides, he had been so
obvious. �For a while, now.�

Remus cocked a faint smile. �You should tell her.�

Harry shook his head.
He told them about how Hermione thought of him, and he told them a bit
about his talk with Ron. But before he
knew it, he was running off at the mouth about Lysander.

His anger and jealousy became apparent enough, but Remus didn�t judge.
Neither did Tonks.

�Am I looking at Imperius, Remus?� Harry
asked. He didn�t need to tell Remus this was what he had wanted to talk about when he
asked a moment of Remus�s time.

Remus thought for a moment before he
shook his head noncommittally. �I don�t
think so, Harry. Someone under an
Unforgivable would act�shall we say�stranger than that. You and Ron know Hermione better than
anybody. You would have noticed and you, of all people, would�ve been sure she
was Imperiused. The
fact that you�re in doubt now��

Harry nodded miserably.
�Then she probably isn�t. I
know. Have you encountered anything in your studies to suggest that there�s
a more subtle spell than the Imperius curse?�

Remus gave him an understanding
smile. �Amortentia, I suppose, is the closest
we�ve come, but that requires continuous dosage, and if the potion is potent
enough to last for days at a time, that would have meant she ingested a
relatively strong mix, so you�d still know
there was something wrong with her, yes?�

Harry remembered how Ron had acted when he ingested those
laced chocolate cauldrons during their sixth year. It hadn�t been a very pretty sight. Nauseating, actually. He wondered if Lysander
could have slipped her something that time Hermione went to see him in the
Gallery. �Can amortentia have more subtle effects?�

Remus shrugged. �In small doses, I suppose, if given on a
regular basis. But then that would
require an even more consistent administering of the potion. Has Hermione been taking anything regularly? Anything he might have given her like candies
and wine?�

He shook his head.
�No. Nothing like that.� At this point, Harry wished there was
something like that. At least he�d know
where the problem was. �Are there any bespelling charms that he could have used? A combination? Heck, do you think he made a spell of his
own?�

Tonks winced. �Assuming he did, he�d have to be better than
the hundreds of wizards who have tried.�

�Theoretically,� Remus
said. �It doesn�t seem possible. Wizards have, throughout time, tried to
improve on amortentia. They�ve
mixed spells and charms to come up with variations to the usual love
potion. They�ve made amulets and
artifacts, and most of those objects ended up becoming accursed, killing their
owners or driving them mad. The quest to
find true love and desire amidst spells and potions is an elusive one, and the
closest any of these fools have come are those faulty persuasion spells. The problem of persuasion spells, as you well
may know, is that if you�re going to go through the trouble of casting a
persuasion spell that will require the caster to go through the motions of
wooing the object of their affection in the first place� why not just try to
woo them without the assistance of magic?�

Harry shrugged. �Well, the magic assures success, I suppose.�

�Then that defeats the purpose of finding true love. It will just be like amortentia, but with more work.�

Tonks chuckled. �And we�re back to square one.�

�That�s correct,� said Remus,
affectionately pinching Tonk�s chin. �The muggles have a
peculiar way of expressing it� Catch-23, I think?�

Harry sighed.
�Catch-22.�

�Yes, something like that.�

�What does that mean?� asked Tonks.

Remus cleared his throat to explain in
his usual professorial way. �Oh, it�s very
interesting, this expression. A Catch-22
means a situation that is inherently self-defeating upon which the very act of
performing it prevents it from happening.�

Tonks seemed to understand
somewhat. �I see, but why call it that?�

�Oh, some muggle author wrote a
whole story based on this circular logic and entitled it Catch-22. Supposed to be
some kind of Military Law designation of some sorts.�

�You can ask Hermione,� said Harry. �I�m sure she�d know. She knows everything.�

Tonks smirked.

Harry frowned.
�Well, she does!�

�I assure you,� said Remus,
�that we are well aware of what Hermione knows.
Which brings me to this point: Can�t you talk to her about this bespelling?�

Harry shook his head.
�I just can�t. Trust me when I
say that.�

Remus and Tonks
didn�t look like they agreed with him, but they said nothing, and Harry was
content, for the meantime, to leave it at that.

000000000000000000

When Hermione left the WizCOF
that evening, Harry was not at the Auror
Department. She was gravely informed by
Kingsley Shacklebolt that Harry had been assigned Hit
Wizard duties that evening.

Hermione frowned, extremely displeased. Another headache was blossoming at the back
of her eyes. �Hit Wizard? But he�s not��

�Tell him that,�
muttered Shacklebolt.
�Addicted to danger, that man.
Requested the assignment himself, and his hair-brained partner just up
and went with him. Isn�t content with
tracking down Dark Wizards, that. He
just has to go Hit Wizard and capture petty criminals��

Hermione was getting frantic, and a bit angry. It was just like Harry to dig up his own
trouble. Why he did it, she still wasn�t sure. She already had a notion that Harry was, as Shacklebolt said, �addicted to danger� but it was just so
preposterous that she always discarded the theory� until he does the
unthinkable again and gets himself half-killed.
She was about to go into a rage when Shacklebolt
continued on his tirade.

�I don�t know why he bothers so much with Mundungus, anyway.
Not like Old Dung could nick anymore silverware from Grimmauld
Place.�

Hermione blinked. �Du�I mean, Mundungus got out of
Azkaban?�

�Yes, would you believe it? I tell you, Azkaban used to be a prison. Now
it�s some kind of half-way house before criminals could escape completely.�

Now Hermione understood why Harry went off. Well, mostly�

She wasn�t exactly sure about how Harry felt about Old
Dung. Sometimes, she had the impression
that Harry was disgusted of him, and then there were other times she thought
she saw a soft spot for the pilferer from the look in Harry�s eyes. She supposed it had to do with Mundungus giving Harry the locket hocrux
out of the goodness of his heart. When Mundungus first gave the Slytherin
locket up without asking anything in exchange, they were all very suspicious of
him. He said something about nicking it
from Grimmauld Place anyway, and that technically, it
belonged to Harry. He said he didn�t
want to be stealing from the man who was going to save the Wizarding
World. At the end of everything, it
turned out that he really did give the locket up out of the goodness of his�
something. Whatever his reasons, Harry
appreciated him for it.

Going after Old Dung himself would at least ensure that Mundungus got fair treatment, whatever his crimes were this
time. Didn�t necessarily mean Harry
wasn�t going to hurt him, but in that sense, Harry probably felt that he was
the only one who had a right to.

Defeated by Dodgy Old Dung, Hermione accepted that she
wasn�t going to see Harry that night.

She scribbled a quick note using some parchment and the
quill on Harry�s desk. She didn�t bother
to cast a masking charm on the letter.
It wasn�t exactly top secret information. She folded the note, signed her name and
charmed it to hang suspended above Harry�s desk in a mist of glitter and a hint
of vanilla scent. The note spun lazily
in its place.

Shacklebolt saw it, sniffed disdainfully at
the wisp of vanilla floating in the air and arched an eyebrow.

Blushing, she gave her thanks and left the department,
making her way to one of the bigger fireplaces.

She decided she would floo to
the Three Broomsticks and just go to
Hogwarts from there. She prayed it was
one of Madame Rosmerta�s good days.

Ever since Rosmerta recovered
from the Imperius
curse in sixth year, she hadn�t been quite the same. It wasn�t that she had gone batty, but she
had certainly lost her carefree outlook, grown bitter each passing season. It seemed that saddled with the guilt of
Dumbledore�s death, she had chosen a kind of self-punishment, loathing herself
and believing everyone else felt the same way about her.

Her attitude had taken on a repulsive sheen, and only out
of kindness did those who knew her before the curse associate with her. Those who never knew the old Madame Rosmerta thought her vile, spiteful and incapable of the
smallest pleasantry.

Hermione soon found herself grasping for equilibrium as
the floo delivered her to the Three Broomsticks fireplace.
Steadying herself, she stepped out of the fireplace and shook off some
of the soot that got on her robe.

Regaining her poise, Hermione looked up and found Madame Rosmerta leaning over the bar, a stiff frown on her
face.

Rosmerta gave a crisp nod. �Granger.�

Hermione flashed a hesitant smile. �Hello, Madame Rosmerta. How are you doing?� You know, these days that you�re bitter and angry at the world?

�As well as could be expected.�

Which must be
miserable. �Ah, good,� said Hermione, for
lack of something better to say. She
wanted desperately to hurry out and just get her business over with, but she
supposed common decency prompted her to at least stay for one butterbeer.

She settled on one of the many unoccupied tables. Business was, it seemed, slow. It was never this empty before, even on week
days. But then again, she�d never much
been here during the summer.

Making herself comfortable, she respectfully asked for a butterbeer.

Rosmerta tossed a towel on the counter,
wiping purposefully. She took her sweet time
before leaving the counter to get Hermione�s order.

Hermione sighed softly, blowing hair off her face from the
corner of her mouth. The silence in the
bar pounded soundlessly in her ears and she wondered when the Three Broomsticks had ever been this
heavy with regret.

What in God�s name
am I doing here?

You�re keeping an
old friend company, that�s what.

Rosmerta isn�t your friend. She smiled at you once or twice before, in
fourth and fifth year. Sixth year
doesn�t count; she was possessed then. But fact remains: You never really spoke to
her before�

She needs a friend.

She doesn�t want
one.

Rosmerta returned with a butterbeer.

�Thanks,� said Hermione.
�Umm��

�Anything else?� Her tone was impatient, like �God, what now, Miss Snooty?�

Hermione tried her best to smile. �Won�t you have a seat?�

Rosmerta rolled her eyes. �Spare your pity for orphaned young boys with
scars, alright?� She left.

Well, that went
really well.

Spiteful witch.

Sad witch.

Hermione sighed.
Miserably, she drank her butterbeer
alone.

000000000000000000

Hermione walked the empty hallways of Hogwarts and smiled.

Her footsteps echoed off the walls and her multiple
shadows, tossed here and there by the candles lighting the way, seemed
strangely welcoming.

Even in its silence, it felt like home. She had, after all, spent many nights as
prefect and Head Girl roaming the halls by herself, making rounds. She couldn�t even count how many students she
had caught snogging in the corners and shagging in
the broom closet. And contrary to
popular belief, she did not derive a perverse pleasure from catching the lot of
them. Finding couples in a passionate
embrace, barely decent, had been a constant reminder of her own lack of love
life, or maybe even just sex. It also
reminded her of the sordid fact that the only boy she�d ever let herself be
caught snogging, or shagging, didn�t see her as
anything more than a best friend. She
wasn�t even sure he saw her as a girl, let alone the object of sexual
desire. It had been depressing, and she
recalled how each time she caught offenders in the shadows, she got this look
on her face, like she was bored to death, and she�d say, �Oy,
you two there. That�s right. Head Girl coming through. Get your robes back on so I could at least
tell which house I�m supposed to deduct points from. That�s it, now. Don�t forget your knickers.�

She thought maybe her emotionless tirade ticked students
off more than if she had been shrieking for them to put their damn clothes back
on.

It was a blessing Harry had been single in seventh year,
at least. She didn�t know how she
would�ve handled it if she caught him with his pants down, so to speak.

�Who�s there?� came a tragic voice, mildly startling
her. �Oh, Ms. Granger!�

Hermione turned and smiled to find the gruesome spectral
remains of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington,
better known as Nearly Headless Nick. The bit of skin holding his head swayed
morbidly to the rhythm of his body. The
ruff was a prop, she thought; a sad attempt at hiding the debacle that was his
execution. �Hullo, Sir Nicholas! How do you do?�

�Well, dead like always, but enduring,� he said in a
melodramatic tone.

�That must be horrible,� she obliged.

He sighed and nodded.
�Yes. Yes it is� will you be coming
back to Hogwarts, Ms. Granger? Applying
for a Professorial position? The school
is in desperate need of a Transfigurations professor to match Headmistress
McGonagall.�

�Is it? That�s
tragic. But I�m not applying for
anything, Sir Nicholas. I�m just here to
visit the good Headmistress. I badly owe her a visit.�

Sir Nicholas nodded.
�Very well, then. I�ll let you go
on your way. I dare say I�m not the most
interesting company. Haven�t been in the
last five hundred years, really. Death
can do that to a person, you know.�

�I�d imagine so,� she said gravely.

Sir Nicholas drifted away in a dramatic exit.

Hermione was beginning to feel that people (and ghosts)
were feeling too sorry for themselves to stand to be with her for very long.

She reached the bottom of the Headmistresses office and
Hermione looked up at the gargoyles guarding them.

�Registered Animagus,� she said,
grinning.

The column spun to reveal the secret stairway.

That�s rule-abiding
Minerva McGonagall for you, she thought, chuckling.

She climbed the steps and arrived at the top with the
portrait swinging open to let her through.

McGonagall was out of her desk towards one of the many
tables, having what appeared to be a stern conversation with her cat. �I have told you that rats are unsanitary
things and if you must eat them, eat them outside my office.�

�Oh, but cats will be cats, Minerva,� said Dumbledore�s
portrait, eyes a-twinkle while he tapped the tips of his fingers together. �And I�ve heard that rats are quite the delicacy. Ah, Ms. Granger!�

Hermione smiled at the portrait, then at the Headmistress
who peered at her above her spectacles.

�Oh, hello, Hermione,� said McGonagall, like it was the
most normal thing to suddenly have Hermione in her office. She transferred her gaze to the fat, gray
tabby. �We�ll discuss this later. You may go.�

The cat did leave, rather forlornly, with its tail
trailing low behind him.

Hermione stifled a laugh.
Nobody could elicit so much shame for rule-breaking like McGonagall can. Sinners beware.

McGonagall bustled to her desk, waving her wand to get
some tea ready as she did so. �Do sit
down, Hermione. You must excuse me for
being a bit disheveled. I had to scourgify a rat off my floor after its remains under my
desk surprised me.�

Hermione sat, chuckling.
There was nothing disheveled about McGonagall. Not ever.
Dumbledore�s portrait grinned and nodded, exchanging knowing looks with
her as McGonagall levitated cups and lumps of sugar.

�How have you been doing, dear?� She sounded a bit
preoccupied, making the tea just perfect, and for all intents and purposes,
there was hardly anything warm about the �dear�, but Hermione knew her favorite
professor�well, Headmistress now�enough to hear the affection in the even tone.

�Very well, Minerva, especially after I got that job at
the WizCOF.�
There was no point in saving that for last. �Thank you.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.�

The barest hint of a smile touched McGonagall�s lips. �I�m happy you�re pleased. I thought maybe you would be, though I�d
imagine Winston and Thane gave you a hard time of it. Batty, those two, but I assure you, it�s all
an act.�

�I figured as much.
I�m grateful you thought highly enough of me to get me that job.�

�Pish posh, you deserved it,�
McGonagall said while waving away Hermione�s words. The tea was ready and McGonagall served the
cups. �You would have been a most
welcome choice if they didn�t take so badly to your Elf Proposals.�

Hermione took her cup and turned pink at the cheeks. �Do they hate it so much?�

�With a vengeance, but they believe they can beat it out
of you.�

�They can�t.�

�I know, but I�ll let them figure that out.�

Hermione laughed softly, drinking her tea. Even if she knew McGonagall wasn�t exactly a
S.P.E.W. supporter, the stern woman never really said anything to discourage
her. Must be the professor in
McGonagall; letting students learn from their own �mistakes�.

McGonagall, in her seemingly detached way, continued to ask
Hermione about other matters pertaining to her life, and they flowed into easy
conversation, with Hermione asking McGonagall about the Headmistress�s
on-goings. Talking about Hogwarts was a
welcome topic. They both, after all,
loved the place, and Hermione was interested in how school was going to be
conducted in the coming school year.

Hermione hadn�t quite lost touch with who the students
were. After all, being Head Girl in
seventh year, she felt it her obligation to at least be aware of who the students
were, first to sixth years included.
She�d only been away from Howarts a year, so
she still knew who was who now that Harry Potter and Draco
Malfoy had taken themselves off the running.

�You recall Millificent
Nettles?�

�Slytherin?�

�Yes. She�s up for
Head Girl.�

Hermione cocked a grin.
�Well, I suppose that�s not bad.
She�s terribly ambitious, but not particularly nasty. Lots of people listen to her and follow her
lead. I can live with that choice.�

Fellow Gryffindor McGonagall offered a knowing smile of
her own. �Trent Horton, however��

�Head Boy?�

�Quite. I think
they�re�well�involved.�

�Oh, goodness!
Gryffindor and Slytherin! What has the world come to?� Hermione laughed.

�Not that it matters, of course,� McGonagall hastily
said. Heaven be saved if McGonagall was
ever accused of being a gossip. �But I
dare say that the Head Suite needs to be smoked every year of magical
pheromones. It never fails, how that suite always
seems to incite romantic involvement in its occupants. You know me, Hermione. I�m not superstitious, so I�m quite certain
there�s magic involved.�

Hermione threw her a sheepish glance. �Sorry I helped it along, then.�

�Goodness, I should�ve known you wouldn�t be immune to
it!� said the Headmistress disapprovingly. �Ernie McMillan kept giving you these silly
looks every mealtime.�

�I only snogged him once.
And that was after he asked me to Hogsmeade. I had a good time and supposed he needed some kind of reward.�

�Good heavens, child.
I need no details, as you might understand.�

�Sorry.� She
reddened. Sometimes, she felt so
comfortable with McGonagall that she forgot that the Headmistress would hardly
stand for talk like that.

�And how goes Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?�

Hermione didn�t know how they went from snogging Ernie to that. She became even redder at the
implications. �Well, Ron�s mindlessly
happy. He loves the attention everyone
gives him and sometimes, I actually think he�s growing up.�

�Weasleys have always been late
bloomers in that sense. Except maybe for
Bill and Percy.�

Ah, Bill! Hermione always thought Bill was the Weasley
gem. Not only was he exceedingly good
looking (pre-werewolf-scars of course) but he was Prefect and Head Boy. She suspected
Ron was going for the �Bill Look�, what with Ron growing his hair out and tying
it down. As for Percy�

I�ll wager the man
was born with a stick shoved up his arse.

She told McGonagall about Ron�s new job, which seemed to
please the Headmistress immensely.
Hermione had to remember to tell Ron that McGonagall wouldn�t mind
receiving Quidditch tickets herself.

�And I�ve heard many good things about Harry Potter,
lately,� said McGonagall. �Kingsley has
nothing but praises for him.�

�That�s odd. Shacklebolt seems to consider Harry the bane of his existence. At least that�s what Harry tells me.�

�I wouldn�t expect less from Kingsley, but it�s an
instructor trick, Hermione. We should
never let our pupils think that we�re too pleased with them. Makes them slack off; so you understand that
you shouldn�t tell Potter that Kingsley actually likes him.�

�I�ll try my best,� muttered Hermione. It would be a difficult promise to keep,
seeing as when Harry showed frustration, Hermione wanted nothing but to soothe
those frustrations away.

McGonagall smiled her tiny smile, looking at Hermione
introspectively above her square-shaped glasses. �Are the two of you taking care of each other
well?�

Hermione was spectacularly
surprised of this question.
McGonagall, though soft on the inside, absolutely did not show her
concern this blatantly. �Well�I�yes, I
suppose so. Harry does take care of me,
and I�d like to think I take care of him.�

McGonagall nodded.
�I realize this seems� strange of me, but since you and Potter left
Hogwarts, I�ve always felt that�well, you both had no one left to look after
you except each other. In my entire
teaching career, I have made it a point to have faith in my students; that they
would be able to hold their own once they leave these walls.� She gestured lightly to the rest of her
office. �I didn�t think so much of your
being by yourselves after Hogwarts.
Sometimes, but not much. You were
in the Order, and in a way, there were still� elders looking out for you.�

Hermione arched an eyebrow. That wasn�t much of a shocker. Being in the Order, they seemed to have everyone looking out for them. Molly, Arthur, Remus,
Alastor� but in the end, it was just her, Harry and
Ron, after all. There was something
extremely liberating about that, and she supposed that finally convinced the
lot of �adults� that they were adults themselves.

�But now there�s only you and Harry,� continued the
Headmistress. �I hope the both of you
understand that.�

�Well� there�s the Weasley
family��

�You know what I mean.�

And Hermione did.
While in everything but blood the Weasleys
would always be there for them like family, there was still that essential
truth that Hermione and Harry were not Weasleys.

Ron� he might never know how it was to be one person away
from losing everyone, God bless him. Harry
and Hermione, parents gone, no other family to turn to, had faced that possible
nightmare everyday of the war; Harry for most of his wizarding
life.

If she had lost Ron�

If she had lost Harry�
she didn�t know how she would�ve managed.
She didn�t know how she could�ve gone on.

And maybe yes, that was why she took such care of him, and
why, in turn, he took such good care of her.

They were it.

By circumstance, they were the closest to family they
could hope to have.

She smiled, nodding.
�Yes, I do know what you mean. I
think we�re doing well.�

�Good, because�well�Remus and I;
we can only be there so many times, you know.�

Remus for Harry and Minerva for me�

Hermione steeled her facial expression, never letting on
that it warmed her immensely that Minerva McGonagall was telling her that she,
Headmistress of Hogwarts, would almost always be there for her, former Hogwarts
Head Girl.

�I understand,� said Hermione. It was by sheer act of will that she didn�t
jump off her seat and throw her arms around the dignified Headmistress.

They talked a long time after that, bringing their
conversation to the Great Hall where Hermione had dinner with her and a few of
the Hogwarts staff. Professor Flitwick was as jolly as ever and Madame Pomfrey was still as nurturing as her good nature
allowed.

It was during dinner that Hermione remembered something
from her research the previous day. She
looked to Flitwick.

�Oh, Filius, I�m just really
curious� do you remember having a student named Danaides
Athanasius in your house? I�m not sure when but it was quite a while
back��

Flitwick�s eyebrow rose in immediate
recognition. �Well, of course, I
do! Danaides,
oh but he was a brilliant dueler, that boy!
You remember him, don�t you, Minerva?�

McGonagall looked like she did.

Madame Pomfrey looked like she
didn�t. �Humph. Probably has his name engraved on one of the
beds like Potter does.�

Hermione giggled softly.
The engraved name was Ron�s handiwork, and Flitwick
did declare that it was one of the best Permanency Charms he ever did see
cast.

Flitwick smiled. �No, this boy can dodge them faster than he
could throw them. He only took a hex
once, right on his breast bone. It left
a scar, I believe, and I think he used that scar to remind him never to get hit
by a hex again. You would�ve liked him,
Poppy. Why do you ask, Hermione?�

Hermione shrugged.
�I know his grandson, Lysander. I just thought it would be interesting��

�He has a grandson?� said McGonagall. �I didn�t even know he had a son!�

This struck Hermione somewhat. �Well that�s� odd. Filius, when did
you say he was here?�

Flitwick gave it a thought. �Well, it was his fifth year when Minerva
started teaching� so it would have been 1951 to 1958.�

Hermione�s brows furrowed a bit before she shook her head
and let it go.

Minerva started
teaching in 1956. She was new to
Hogwarts, then, but�

McGonagall nodded.
�Astounding lad, that Danaides. He was a very diligent student. Determined as anything to learn all he could,
and he was a solitary boy. Didn�t want
to get in with a crowd. Always thought
there was an otherworldly wisdom in his eyes.�

Hermione stifled a sigh.
Way to discover things about Lysander and what could win him over to my cause.

All this information, though interesting, was useless.

�This grandson of his, I hope, is as brilliant as his
grandfather if you�ve taken an interest in him, Hermione,� said McGonagall,
eyebrow raised.

Hermione blushed.
�Oh, I don�t know about that. I�m
only interested in him on a professional level.�

She wasn�t so sure about that, either, but it was better
to speak prudently.

�Of course you are, dear,� said Madame Pomfrey�
prudishly.

Hermione sighed.
Maybe she was being a
prude.

They spoke the rest of the evening, laughing over pudding,
and as expected, McGonagall offered to accommodate her for the night, which she
was more than ready to accept. She was
offered a guest quarter but she opted for the old Gryffindor common room. Empty and quiet as it would be this time of
year, she craved its familiarity.

She laughed a bit with the Fat Lady before settling
herself inside, reveling in the silence of the tower.

Having been prepared for an overnight stay, she had a
change of clothing for the night and the next working day. And it was all going very well, with her
reading by the light of the fire, until the loneliness set in.

The orange light of the fire suddenly seemed so dim, and
she recalled the many, many nights she spent there with Harry close by.

Very close by. She ran her hand against the space on the couch beside
her. Close
enough to kiss.

Maybe if she had stopped being�

Being me, for just
one second, I could�ve done it.

The entire place; the entire castle was not home. Not without Ron or Harry.

Oh, bugger me. One day away and I miss them� I miss
Harry.

It was late.
Probably late enough for both of her boys to be asleep, but maybe�

She looked at the corner of the fireplace and was glad to
see there was floo powder where it usually didn�t
have any.

McGonagall thinks of
everything!

Grinning, she knelt before the fire and called for Grimmauld place before she threw in some floo.

When the green flames erupted, she bent over them. �Harry?
Ron? Are you there? Can you hear me?�

She waited a while.
She yelled again, and she noted the desperate sound in her tone. She realized that if she went back to the
emptiness of the Common Room without having talked to either of them, she just
might go nutters.

It took another few seconds but soon, she saw him, smiling
at her from the other side. He was
dressed in an old t-shirt and cargos.
She could only suppose he had been in his usual boxers, and that he had
hurriedly put on a shirt and a pair of trousers to answer her summons.

She could see the garter of his boxers peeking some from
his sloppily put on shirt and it made her blush. Even at his most unglamorous, this bespeckled, messy haired boy was terribly sexy to her.

�Well, hullo! Got
your note at the office. Sorry we missed
each other,� he said with his heart-wrenchingly charming smile.

I�m sorrier than you
know, she
thought, smiling with such longing that she wasn�t sure if Harry didn�t see it
through the flames.

�Where are you flooing from?� he
asked.

�The Gryffindor Common Room.�

He grinned.
�Oh? Must bring back memories.�

�It�s quite lonely here, actually.�

She couldn�t help but tell him the truth. He would�ve heard it in her voice, anyway.

His smile dwindled and he regarded her for a few
seconds. �Will you be alright?�

�Just� just talk to me a while, Harry.� She had a real urge to reach out and have him
snatch her out of there, but she was sure McGonagall had gone through enough
trouble getting her fireplace temporarily back in the network for talking. Allowing for transport would have been far
too much trouble. �It�s different when
you� and Ron aren�t here.�

Harry moved closer to the fire. �Is the couch still as comfortable as it used
to be?�

�Yes.� No. It was better when you were there with
me.

�And you�re reading a book, aren�t you? One of those great big ones that you can
cover your face with?�

She smiled, the oppressive quality of loneliness
lightening immediately. �Yes. How did you know?�

�Who knows you better than yourself, Granger?�

�Who else!� She
laughed.

He grinned. �Ron and
I would be playing Wizard�s Chess while you �remind� us that we have some
Potions reading to catch up on.�

�More like �nag� you, Potter.�

�Your word, not mine!� he said defensively.

She laughed again.

He kept grinning.
�And then someone calls your name and you peer over the top with your
lovely honey brown eyes��

His grin disappeared and her laugh dwindled.

She stared at him beyond the flames; beyond the distance
and wondered, for a split heartbeat, what it was she was seeing in his
gaze.

He had called her eyes lovely. What a nice way to describe them. Harry could be so kind that way�

�Harry?� she asked, softly.

He made a motion to speak.
�Hermione��

Her breath caught, and perhaps, if there had ever been a
time where her compulsion to touch him was so strong, now would be the most
compelling.

But it wasn�t going to happen. Not tonight, and probably never. The distance between them had never felt so
vast. She breathed, and so did he.

�I can�� he said uncertainly ��I can actually floo on over to the Three
Broomsticks and fly to Hogwarts on my Firebolt� I
can keep you company��

She had to wonder if he was telling her or asking her. She wished; wanted to tell him, �Please do come over here. Keep me company like you always do. And maybe� maybe we can talk awhile of things
I�ve always wanted to talk about with you��

She smiled, painfully.
�It�s too late, Harry. Madam Rosmerta would Glacio you with
her eyes alone.�

Glacio was a freezing charm. It
wasn�t as binding as Petrificus Totalus but
the discomfort of a biting cold more than made up for the spell�s limitations.

He cocked a grin.
�Madam Rosmerta nothing. I�d imagine McGonagall would take fifty house
points from Gryffindor and give me
detention for being inconsiderate of other people�s bedtimes.�

She laughed and let it ebb into a wan smile. �I�ll see you tomorrow at work, then, Harry.�

�You promised me lunch, remember?�

�I remember.
Goodnight.�

�Goodnight.�

She pulled away from the fire, breaking the
connection.

Hermione sat back on the couch, watching the fire dance in
the dimness.

And like many a late night in the Common Room, it was
there she fell asleep.
- 9
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Hermione Full of Grace

Chapter Nine � Guidance from the Wise