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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
- 13
- 14
- 15
Author�s
note: Another NC-17 chapter, but I reckon tamer than the last one.

Thanks
so much again to Aurabolt who read this!
Beta-reading NC-17 isn�t part of his repertoire but he read this one for
me, anyway. ^_^

Standard
disclaimers apply.

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Chapter Thirteen � Asking the Right Questions

In which
Hermione suddenly finds herself way in over her head.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

He wanted to see how beautiful this Saturday morning was.

Smiling contentedly, he summoned his glasses and put them
on to greet the day.

The rays of the sun streamed through the window and cast
its gold over them. The sheets and blankets braided through their tangled legs
and bounced off the highlights of her hair.

There was a glimmer on her shoulders and arms, like
powdered shine. He hadn�t noticed it
last night, maybe because his focus was on other parts of her.

He met her eyes and she smiled.

�Good morning,� she said.

He smiled back. It
was a blessed day indeed. �Good
morning. Been awake long?�

�A few minutes.�
She shifted closer so that he could embrace her more intimately.

He didn�t mind keeping her in his arms at all.

He felt her fingers fiddling at his neck and there was a
very faint, almost nonexistent clink of chains.

Looking down, he saw that she was playing with his gold
chain as she looked at the gold-disc pendant attached to it. He smiled and let her.

�I never asked you about this pendant, Harry.�

He ran his fingers lightly in her hair. �What do you want to know about it?�

She bit her lip in her adorable fashion. �Did you always have it?�

He shook his head a bit. �No.�

�When��

�Sometime during your�coma.�

It was the first time he even called it that out
loud. Maybe he was afraid before, that
if he said it, she would be in danger again.
She had been so close to death.
But having her now, in his arms, most assuredly alive in every possible
way, he felt he could speak of it. He would tell her more, later. For now, he was just going to enjoy the
closeness they were sharing.

There was another question in her eyes and he felt a mild
thrill.

�Someone gave it to me,� he said to egg her on.

She frowned. �A
woman?�

It felt nice to see her jealous. His life hadn�t exactly been filled with
people wanting him to be theirs, particularly when the Dursleys were saying
they wished he didn�t exist. This hint
of possessiveness from her delighted his deprived heart.

�Yes,� he replied.

She let the chain drop from her fingers, but she didn�t
turn away. In fact, she snuggled against
him. �It�s nice.�

He supposed she couldn�t be angry with him, seeing as he
did very well by her just a few hours ago.
She was, however, at least half-responsible for their amazing romp, and
he thought she deserved better than his petty teasing.

He laughed softly.
�It was from McGonagall, whom I assume got it from Filius.�

She looked up at him, blinking in confusion.

�It�s a glamour pendant,� he explained, grinning. �It�s charmed to hide�certain imperfections I
have.�

Her replying grin was mischievous. �Funny, you�re still hopelessly impulsive and
rather too smug for��

�Oy!� He laughed.

She giggled, feathering his neck with kisses to appease
him.

�Not those imperfections!�
he said.

�I know. I was just
teasing. The glamour masks certain
physical imperfections, yes?�

�Ten points for Gryffindor.�

She grinned.
�Harry, what could possibly be imperfect about the way you look? You�re�you�re��

�Handsome Harry?� he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

She laughed, pinching his arm lightly. �I can�t
believe you remember me saying that!
How do you do that?�

�Easy. I think
about you all the time.� He kissed her
and she let him. They smiled in the kiss
and he couldn�t resist groping her a bit.

She chuckled then looked intently into his eyes. �What are you masking, Harry?�

The question didn�t surprise him. He never told her; never showed her. He didn�t think it was important,
anyway. Ron knew. He was the one who put out the fires after
all, but they hadn�t talked about it.

�The glamour�s mostly for other people, really,� he
said. �So that they don�t feel
uncomfortable when they see it. It�s not
gross, but it�s weird, and I�m not quite up to wearing my battle scars proudly,
you know. I�ve had enough of scars to
last me a lifetime.�

She frowned, reaching for the clasp of the chain.

He placed his hand on hers, shaking his head slowly.

�Don�t.� He wasn�t
sure he wanted her to see it, not just because it was ugly, but because it was
such a grim image of that day.

The day she
died.

It was more painful to him than anything he could
remember.

�I want to see, Harry,� she whispered. �So you don�t have to bear it alone.�

�I�m not�I�m not bearing it alone. You�re here.�

�Then why haven�t you shown this to me? Why are you keeping it to yourself?�

He closed his eyes, cupping her face in his hands. �You died.
It was a sacrifice I didn�t want you to take.�

He felt her hand gently on his cheek and he looked at her
as she spoke.

�I left that sacrifice behind when I woke up. I�m alive now, aren�t I? You� you look at your scars everyday and you
won�t be allowed to forget. Let me help
carry the burden.�

And her lovely eyes were that intense shade of golden
honey, almost like amber. Piercing;
penetrating. She understood what he was
going through, and there was just no point in pushing her away from this. He trusted her then with the knowledge.

He let her undo the clasp of the chain. When she did, the melted flesh on his hands
rippled into sight. He closed his
eyes. Even he could hardly look at them.

She held his hands, pressing them to her cheek as she let
her eyes close slowly. A tear leaked
from between her lids and it slid down his fingers. Opening her eyes, he saw a deep
understanding; a yearning to make him forget the memory of pain that the scars
brought him.

He couldn�t believe how much he loved her at that
moment.

She held them to her, placing kisses on the disfigured
skin before she rose above him, guiding his scarred hands to hold her by the
hips, letting them glide down her body along the way.

He watched her in awestruck fascination, her graceful
movements making him instantly ready.

Taking her wand, she whispered the contraception charm
over him before carefully setting her wand aside.

She wrapped her hand around him and he groaned as she
pleasured him with brilliant strokes of her hands. She listened to his responses, testing a bit
and watching his eyes for his reactions.
She knew how, but she wanted to learn him. When she combined it
with her lips and tongue, he couldn�t believe the sensations.

He didn�t know if it was because she was applying what she
learned from How to Give Spectacular Head with astounding skill, or if it was
because she was the one giving it, but every shower room brag he ever heard in
the boys� dorms were pure bullcrap compared to the fantastic feelings she was
eliciting from him right now.

And she certainly knew what she was doing, because just
when he thought he was going to explode, she stopped, eased her ministrations
and brought him down. It was pure
torture; the pain so sweet that he can�t even remember how many times he had
called her name during the entire blessed ordeal.

When finally, he begged
her to put him out of his misery, she eased his passion down to a very,
very calm patter before she straddled his hips.

She rode him with the luscious circling of her hips. Slow and fascinating. He was completely mesmerized.

He could see everything clearly. With the light of day and his glasses making
everything prime for visual stimulation, he wasn�t missing a thing. Her body was even more beautiful alight with
sunshine, and the ripple of her soft muscles coursed arousal through him like
jets of fire.

And she wanted him to touch her. He, with his imperfect hands, so that the
burden of bad memories that went with it could be slowly, and oh-so-erotically
be lightened by the good.

He waited it out, prolonging the love making by pulling
her body towards him when it became almost too unbearable to hold. He wanting to see her fulfilled before he let
himself go, and only after she threw her head back, moaning his name in her
wonderfully throaty way�loud enough probably for the neighbors to hear because
alas, they forgot the silencing charm again�, did he clamp his hands on her
flank to seek his release.

She moved with him to his rhythm now; coaxing him to his
climax with the penetrating thrusts of her hips. It didn�t take him long.

When he let go, it was unbelievable ecstasy.

He thought maybe the neighbors heard him, too.

When the gifts were fully given and taken, she fell into
his arms and let him hold her.

Harry would never forget this day; the day Hermione
Granger made love to him, scars and all.

They napped a bit, sinking into a light doze as he held
her close.

When he stirred half an hour later, Harry told her he�d
get breakfast ready today.

She blinked sleep out of her eyes and she protested. �Oh, but��

�Hush now. Someone has to reward you for that
performance.�

She smiled, blushing, but she wasn�t going to be
out-done. �Reward? Like house
points? That�s what I call
incentives! I like this system. Yes, this works for Hermione Granger.�

He grinned. �I
thought you�d like it. Just make sure
all your point-hoarding doesn�t get me killed in the process. A bloke can only stand to have sex for�wait a
minute. What the hell am I complaining
about? Murder me. I beg of you!�

She giggled, burying herself beneath the blankets,
half-embarrassed with herself. He
thought this endearing, of course, and he considered jumping back into the
sheets to initiate this slow death of his, but he supposed they had to get out
of bed some time. So he dug her out from beneath the pillows
and let his lips and tongue explore the wonderful planes of her skin. She gasped and shuddered at his touch, and
minutes later, she was ready to jump him senseless. He led her to her very fragrant, beautiful bathroom
to finish their little adventure.

It was no easy thing; holding back his own release when he
had her up against the wall; the water pounding on his back and droplets
beading on her skin. She whispered
encouragement and soft, sensual praises, which was something new for him. He�d never been praised quite like that before and it was doing wonders to his ego. It was rather mind-blowing, and he was sure
she was going to kill him from the effort of resisting his completion. But that was the beauty of it, he
supposed. Challenges had always been his
thing.

So when she cried out her approval and began to make that
familiar sound that he found heart-stoppingly arousing, he happily joined her
as she climaxed.

After they eased their tremors away, he swore he had the
stupidest smile known to a properly murdered man.

Hermione certainly looked extremely pleased with
herself. �I�d say that�s about fifty
house points, yes?�

The little assassin
knows what she does to me, he thought with affectionate reproach.
A bloke can learn to live like
this.

But at the rate things were going, he�d be willing to
surrender the house cup to her altogether.

�You go on ahead downstairs,� she said, grabbing a bottle
of something as he toweled off. �I�ve a
few minutes yet before I finish up here.�

Much as he would like to solve the Mystery of Women�s
Prolonged Showers, he did promise to make breakfast. So reluctantly, he left the bathroom (and the
very wonderfully naked woman in it), dressed and told her he�d have everything
ready in half an hour.

�I�ll be down by then,� she promised while she hummed
tunelessly from behind the bath curtain.

Smiling, he put his necklace back on and went straight to
the kitchen.

0000000000000000

Harry was just about finishing up with the ready made
breakfast muffins when Ron lumbered into the kitchen, still in his sloppy night
shirt and woolen plaid sleep pants.

He went straight to the coffee pot and watched Harry
magically bring out the muffins while he cooked the bacon and eggs.

Ignoring him, Harry levitated the butter and different
flavored jams from the pantry.

Harry leaned against the counter, wand unmoving in his
hand, as he casually picked up the paper.
The kitchen remained alive around him, with him occasionally tossing the
food in the cooking pan while cracking eggs over a whipping bowl. It was a chaotic dance of sorts, and he
didn�t even have to put his morning paper down.

Ron suddenly scoffed, slurping his coffee. �You�d think a powerful wizard like you would
remember a simple insula��

Harry folded his paper and sighed. �Shite, mate.
Really sorry �bout that.� He
finished up with the eggs by pouring them in a heated skillet and scrambling
them to keep them fluffy.

He looked a bit traumatized as he slanted a look at
Harry. �Yeah, sorry my arse� like you
really mean that!�

Harry tried his best not to look too pleased with himself.

�Honestly, I never imagined Hermione to be the noisy type,
but cor� brought the house down, she did!�

Harry frowned. �Oh,
imagined her, did you?�

Ron shot him a look of exasperation. �Please spare me your territorial cack. I�m the one who had to listen to my best
friends get the shag of their lives.
Honestly, how many times is a person supposed to say �yes!� before the
other person gets it?�

�Well,� said Harry sheepishly. �You know what Filius says� enunciate!�

�Yeah,� Ron muttered.
�Mr. Levi-oh-behave, here.�

Harry hoped Ron would be done with his tirade by the time
Hermione showed up for breakfast.

Moments later, a tiny silver stream shot through the
window. It was a messenger spell, and it
was for Harry.

He sighed. �Can�t
believe Shacklebolt wants me to come in today��

�Death Eaters don�t take weekends off?� Ron asked,
grinning.

Harry let him be snarky.
He figured he could let Weasley be cheeky after having to put up with
the racket he and Hermione had caused.

Hermione walked into the kitchen, glowing in her pretty
top and flouncy skirt. She pinched Ron�s
cheek. �Good morning, Ron!�

Ron shoved her hand away.
�Not in the mood.�

�Grouch.� She went
to Harry and gave him a sultry kiss, as if she hadn�t been busy administering
them to him all night and all morning.

He grinned, squeezing her bum as he took the kiss.

�Oh, don�t mind me,� said Ron loudly. �I�m just the ostracized housemate who would
pretend for dear life that he isn�t seeing, or hearing, anything.�

�Oh, shut it,� she said, pouring herself some coffee. �I never
complained about you and that tart doing it in the backseat of my parents� car,
now did I?�

Harry�s eyes widened in surprise and Ron reddened.

�Who told?� Ron yelled.

Her eyes twinkled.
�You should know better than to kiss and tell, by now. Or rather to whom you�re telling it to.�

Ron gasped. �It was
Fred, wasn�t it? Wasn�t it? I can�t believe
it! Does the fact that we have the same
blood coursing through our veins mean nothing to him?�

�Oh,� she said, looking elsewhere playfully. �Gred and Forge tell me a lot of things.�

Ron glared at her and Harry�s eyebrow arched.

�Yeah, I�ve noticed,� said Ron suspiciously. �Why is
that? They talk about you a lot,
lately. Hermione this; Hermione that.
It�s like they�re bloody besotted.�

Harry�s eyebrow arched even higher. Fred and George? No way� they
wouldn�t!

Well, put up a Fan
Club, why don�t you!
he thought bitterly. Senior members:
Fred, George and Lee.

Hermione shrieked with laughter. �Besotted!
With plain little me? Oh,
dear! Won�t they just love that? No, no. You ought to give your brothers more credit
than that, Ron.�

At this, Harry frowned.
�Oy� what�s wrong with being besotted with you? And you are not plain. You happen to be a very attractive woman.�

She smiled at him affectionately. �Thank you, Harry. This is why I love you.�

Ron made a retching sound.
�Disgusting. The both of you!�

Hermione shot Ron a superior smirk. �I would
tell you why I�m in Fred and George�s good graces, you understand, but this
is as much their joke as it is mine. I
wouldn�t dream of ruining it for them.
Have them tell you.�

�I�ll get you to tell me yet, Hermione Jane Granger,� said
Harry in a half-dangerous tone.

She wiggled an eyebrow.
�Ooh, you�re most welcome to try Harry James Potter.�

�Am I?�

�Oh my, yes��

Harry wondered if she knew what effect those words had on
him. He began to seriously consider the logistics of the nearest bathroom with
regard to Hermione being on the sink while he�

Ron scowled, probably seeing the look on his face. �Can you at least wait for me to be out of the
room before you engage in foreplay?
Thank you.�

Harry exchanged grins with Hermione and decided Ron had
suffered enough for one day. He had
breakfast ready in the next minute and they finally sat down to a lively
meal.

0000000000000000000

Harry found himself practically skipping into the Auror
Department in spite of the fact that it was Saturday and that Shacklebolt had
just told him he would be investigating a hive of Cornish Pixies found near a
former Death Eater hideout.

He sat at his desk, unwittingly humming as he sifted
through his papers.

Gail, sitting across from him, had her eyebrow
arched. �Well, someone looks like he got
shagged right properly last night, and possibly this morning, too.�

Harry stopped humming and reddened. He saw the smirk on her face and he had to
swallow his embarrassment with a chuckle.

�Well, it was certainly right in all possible ways,� he
said off-handedly. �But it was properly
improper in others, if you catch what I�m saying.�

She blinked, astonished at his candidness, then she
laughed, darting a crumpled sheet of parchment at him. �Alright, then. I�ll keep my opinions to myself from now
on. You win!�

He grinned, triumphant.

Remus came up to him, smiling with only a hint of twinkle
in his eyes. He briefly exchanged looks
with Gail who wiggled her eyebrows and laughed.

Harry had to wonder if he had a sign on his forehead
saying: �Properly Shagged and Loving It!�

�Harry, might I talk to you for a second?� Remus asked.

Harry nodded, following Remus to a relatively isolated
corner of the room.

�This seems a bit dated,� Remus began. �But how�s that matter with Lysander
Athanasius coming along? Have you found
out anything new?�

Harry was surprised Remus remembered, and frankly, ever
since he and Hermione had admitted their feelings to each other, he hadn�t
given Lysander another thought. After
all, they spent almost all of their free time together. Now, he felt a bit concerned that Remus felt
the need to follow it up.

�Not really, no,� he replied. �I�ve somewhat�well, I�ve taken it for
granted��

Remus�s eyebrow arched.

Harry felt a bit of panic.
�Well, I went to the Department of Mysteries last week and asked one of
the Unspeakables to help me figure it out, but I haven�t heard from the
Unspeakable since. Should I be more
concerned, Remus? I mean, Hermione and
I�well, we�ve come rather far�� He
blushed.

Remus smiled in understanding. �Yes, I suppose Hermione�s rather safe from
him for the meantime, with you and her spending a lot of time with each other��

Harry didn�t miss the undertones. �What do you mean by that? Have I done something wrong? Have I��

Remus noticed his alarm and clasped his shoulder in a
soothing gesture. �Calm down, son. I mean exactly what I�m saying. By spending a lot of time with her, you�re
protecting her from whatever influence this man may have gained on her, if
there�s any at all! But given the nature
of their�well, their previous interactions, if
there�s magic involved, I don�t think it could be interrupted quite that� easily.�

�Merlin, Remus� what are you saying--?�

Remus shook his head.
�I certainly didn�t mean to scare you, Harry. I just�I tend to be unreasonably concerned
when it comes to yours and Hermione�s well-being� I suggest you�you ask her if there�s anything... I don�t know�amiss?�

�Remus, did you find something out? You have
to tell me.�

�It�s rather� it�s rather silly.�

�No, it�s not. Tell me.�

�Well, something about what you said just struck me,
that�s all. You said something about him
giving her what she wants��

Harry jogged his memory, squeezing his eyes shut to
organize his thoughts. �Y-Yes. He makes a big deal out of it, somewhat��

�Well, it got me thinking about myths.�

�Myths?�

Remus nodded.
�Arabian myths. Genies.�

�Genies?�

�Of the lamp. They
tend to give you what you want.�

It clicked in Harry�s mind. �Yes, of course. You rub the lamp, release the genie and he
offers you three wishes. Are you saying
Lysander�s a genie?�

Remus chuckled. �I
wish, but that�s unlikely, unless Hermione found him in a lamp. Even in the Wizarding World, some things
don�t exist. But be that as it may,
there are hundreds of stories telling us about rogue genies, how they use the
wishes of their �masters� to ensnare their victims. It just� sounded vaguely familiar, don�t you
think?�

Harry swallowed. Chillingly so.

�I suggest you go back to this Unspeakable of yours,�
Remus said. �Tell him to look into other
life forms and the magic they use.�

�Other life forms?
Like Centaurs and veelas?�

�Yes. Sometimes, by
using some form of dark magic, wizards can channel the magic of other
species.� Remus made a halting gesture
before Harry got too worked up about this new prospect. �It�s unprecedented, Harry. Don�t expect this new lead will get you the answers,
but it�s something��

Harry nodded. �I
know. Thanks. But Remus, I hope to Merlin this entire thing
is nothing. I can�t let anything happen to her. I just can�t.�

�I understand, Harry.
If you need my help in any way, you let me know, alright?�

Again, Harry nodded.

Remus gave him a pat on the back before retiring into
Shacklebolt�s office.

Harry went to his desk and quickly scribbled a letter on
parchment.

�You alright, Harry?� Gail asked.

�Yeah,� was his absent reply. He finished the letter, signed it, folded it
up and wrote out: �To the Unspeakable Concerned, From Harry James Potter�. He told Gail he�d be back as fast as he
could.

He left the Auror offices and went straight to the
Department of Mysteries, hoping most fervently that the Unspeakable he met with
the last time would get his message after he dropped it off.

000000000000000000000000

Harry had gone to work on a Saturday and therefore
Hermione desperately needed to get out of the house to keep her mind occupied;
either that or go she would go spare.

If she spent the rest of the day idle, the thoughts would
return. Those blasted thoughts of the one person she shouldn�t be thinking
about.

Lysander.

She couldn�t understand why.

Since she and Harry had admitted their feelings for one
another, she had realized, beyond reasonable doubt, that what she had felt for
Lysander had been a powerful infatuation; and that any attention he might give
her in the future would be easily turned away.
But while she had been practically intoxicated by her new relationship
with Harry, the echo of Lysander�s voice refused to die down completely.

When she was with Harry, she was blissfully caught up in
everything that was him, but when she was alone; when her thoughts eased to
normalcy and routine, she would hear that echo again. It wasn�t something sentient. It was more a reminder. As if it allowed her escape during the times
Harry was there, but returned when her thoughts dropped its guard.

She had desperately tried to fight it, immersing herself
in her work when she was at the Ministry and curling up with a good book when
she got home, but none of that worked to keep her mind from that disembodied
whisper. Harry was the only one that
could drive that voice away, and she had discovered, having slept in his arms
on the couch and just hours ago, in bed, that Harry�s presence was powerful
even in dreams.

In the few times she had taken to bed alone in the past
week, it was Lysander�s voice that lulled her.
Her dreams of him, though not sexual, had been disturbing. It was always
about being with Lysander. Not as his
lover, or not even his companion, but she was just there; waiting. He was on a park bench, reading something,
and she was beside him in a pretty white dress; feeding the birds
mechanically. He was having coffee with
his friends, and she sat nearby; watching for him to put the cream in his
tea. He was asleep in his bed, and she
would be at the window, anticipating his wakefulness.

What in the hell did it all mean?

It worried her, but she didn�t realize how much until she
kissed Harry goodbye before she sent him off to work that Saturday. She had clung to him, and he must have felt
her need, because he had smiled and said, �I will come back home, you know.�

�Yes, but I�ll miss you dreadfully.� She meant every word.

Now, as she pondered his absence, she dreaded that
misplaced voice in her head. She had
just made love to Harry, for goodness sake!
And really, the experience had been so wonderful, and fulfilling. The kisses they had shared in the last week
had been tinged well-enough with heat, and she could admit that they were
luscious enough to get her thinking naughty thoughts, but now that she had felt
him inside her; knew how it was to be loved and touched by Harry Potter, her
state of readiness where he was concerned had been multiplied to Merlin Knew
What fold. One look from him now seemed to arouse her to distraction. She never
realized he could have such a strong effect on her.

So it was absolutely confusing her that thoughts of
Lysander persisted.

She closed her eyes and pushed those thoughts back.

A headache began to blossom, again.

I think maybe I
should see a healer about it, she thought glumly. They came and went, never lasting very
long, but they were bothersome, and in one or two occasions, rather intense.

Right now the ache was ebbing, and she supposed she�d
rather suffer while she was out doing something rather than nurse it at home,
doing nothing.

Naturally, Ron had to �volunteer� for the job of keeping
her company. She dragged him to go
grocery shopping with her.

It had been a difficult task, getting Ron to
cooperate. He complained loudly that he
had lost sleep the previous night.

�And it wasn�t because I was getting laid, either!� cried
Ron.

But she shot him the perfect petulant look, telling him
that he never spent time with her
anymore and that she hadn�t made him foot the cleaning bill for the backseat of
the BMW.

Ron relented after that.

She took him in the car, for a treat, and she teased that
he could sit in the back if he liked.

�Ha-ha,� muttered Ron, buckling himself down on the
passenger�s side.

She made the ride worth Ron�s while and got a traffic
violation for it. Ron was ecstatic,
especially when he took advantage of the opportunity to dramatically whine at
the police officer who pulled them over.
He had seen it done on the telly and had been eager to try outsmarting a
muggle law enforcer.

Unfortunately for Ron, he was no jedi, so his attempt at, �You
won�t issue Ms. Granger a ticket,� with an accompanying, cheesy wave of his
hand didn�t exactly overwhelm the officer with �the force�. The only thing it got Ron was a dubious look
and the officer telling Hermione, �Ma�am, are you quite sure you�re safe being
alone with this�er�gentleman?�

Grocery shopping had been leisurely paced and so long as
she bought Ron something to eat every now and then, his complaints were at a
minimum.

Thank goodness for
Almond Rocha, she
thought as she watched Ron take another foiled piece from the can.

They only argued seriously once, which was an unsurpassed
feat as of yet after having spent almost all day together, and by the time
tea-time came around, he was more than happy to treat her to pastries.

They were just about settling themselves in a nice little
coffee shop when Ron looked up and saw something, or someone, he liked.

�Hold on, I think that�s Selena Bridgewater!�

Hermione frowned.
�Ron, if you leave this table to flirt with that woman��

�No need to be jealous.
I�ll only be a minute! You won�t
even notice I�m gone,� he said, his eyes still on the model-like, raven-haired
beauty several tables away. He rose from
his seat. �Be back in a flash.�

He left and she sighed.

She stirred her coffee, muttering about what a stupid git
Ron was and how she ought to set canaries on him.

Hermione almost spilled her tea when someone took Ron�s
place across from her.

She coughed, gasping as the tea went down the wrong
way. �Ly-Lysander!�

He smiled, glancing briefly at Ron. He waved his wand. �Transeo.�

Hermione felt the magic settle and she rolled her
eyes. �Is that necessary?�

Lysander shrugged.
�Maybe. I�m not too keen on
interruptions while we talk. How was
your week, Hermione? Been thinking about
me?�

For a moment, his question caught her slightly off guard
and her fingers twitched around her wand, but she regained her composure and
she lifted her nose at his audacity.
�No. No I have not. However did you get that idea?�

�Just an expression.
I thought maybe I�d� distance myself for a while; let you get used to
the idea that you�ve been� bound, somewhat.�
He smiled.

She didn�t know why something in her stomach twisted. It was ridiculous what he was saying. Bound?
No. Not seriously. He was just being arrogant. He was presuming too much. He was being a flirt again, and he was using
words that he knew would fluster her. He
did that a lot.

�I�m sorry, Lysander, but I�m with Harry now,� she said in
a steady tone. �Whatever� flirting we may have done then will
amount to nothing. I�m sorry. I know that I shouldn�t have led you on if I
wasn�t sure about my feelings for you, but now I�m sure, and I only want to be
with Harry.�

He was silent for a moment, but his smile never
wavered. �You know what I mean, don�t
you?�

Her temples throbbed painfully and her heart began to hammer
in her ribcage. She forced the lie out
of her. �I don�t. I haven�t the slightest clue.�

�Your proposal��

�You can keep the proposal. What you ask from me in exchange is too
much.�

�How do you know what I want?�

She swallowed, reddening.
�I just know.�

His smile widened and he chuckled. He leaned over the table, looking intently
into her eyes. �The proposal�s already
been given. You can�t take it back.�

Her breath caught at the line of magic that she was
feeling from him. What it was, she couldn�t
be sure. It felt like a pull, and a
push; it was the strangest thing. And
then it was gone, like she had imagined it.
She thought maybe she had felt it before. In the Library of Ancient Runes, he might
have done the same thing to her. But
then, she wasn�t even certain there was something being done at all.

�The proposal portends an agreement, Lysander. We haven�t come to any agreement.�

�Oh yes, we have.�

And she was suddenly so terrified.

She didn�t know why.
She didn�t know why now. There was nothing remotely threatening
about Lysander before; nothing for her to think that he would ever harm her,
but now it was palpable; her fear of him.

What had she done?
What had he done? Or maybe she was just being paranoid.

Harry knew.

Harry knew.

No, he didn�t know, but he felt it, and maybe�

Maybe I should�ve
listened!

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. �Lysander, stop that. You�re being an arse!�

He laughed softly.
�We exchanged gifts of value.
Didn�t you realize that? It initialized
the bonding sequence.�

�Wh-What bonding sequence?
What gifts? Lysander��

�You took the key to the library, and you used it. You gave me your proposal, and I accepted.�

Her headache flared and she blinked it back before she
spoke. �The proposal means nothing!�

�The proposal means that for one, blessed moment, you trusted me unconditionally. And that, my dear, is a gift of pure value
for me.�

�No.� Yes� you did
trust him, and you told him so at the library. She frowned. �Trust is the one gift that can be taken
back!�

�Indeed. But the
moment you gave it� you were caught.
Didn�t you feel it, Hermione?�

�What are you�what are you saying?�

�Tell me� when exactly did you begin hearing the echoes?�

The blood drained from her face.

He grinned smugly.
�The moon will be waxing in a week�s time. You�d want to prepare yourself until
then. It would be easier for you, that
way, the transition. If you don�t, it
would only hurt you.�

He stood to leave.

�Lysander�� she whispered through her teeth as she got to
her feet. �Lysander, you tell me what�s going on!�

�Read the book,� was all he said.

�What book?�

He smirked and didn�t reply as he walked out of the coffee
shop doors.

�Bloody hell, Hermione!� came Ron�s voice from behind
her.

She whirled around to look at him.

�Was that Athanasius?� Ron asked in a worried tone. �You should�ve called me! I would�ve thrown him out for you!�

The beating of her heart slowed, and Ron�s concerned look
calmed her more than anything. �I-It�s
fine. I-I managed.�

�Blimey, you�re all pale!
Sit down!� He eased her back down
on her seat. �Now I�m really sorry I
left you. What�d that bastard say to
you?�

�Nothing. He didn�t
say anything. He just�nothing.�

�Well, Harry�s going to hit the roof when he hears about this.�

�Don�t say anything to him!�

The vehemence in her voice surprised even her, and Ron
stared at her like she had grown a second head.

She realized then how awful it must have sounded; to shut
Harry out like that. She would never!
Why, of course she would tell him about what happened, right? Right?!

Why trouble
him? It would only worry him
unnecessarily. You know you don�t want
that�

�Are you mad?� said
Ron, cutting through her thoughts.
�Harry�ll kill me if he finds
out��

�I just� he�ll worry.
I just don�t want him to worry, is all��

�Right,� said Ron, looking at her funny. �And I don�t like to see you so upset. I ought to beat the crapper out of that git Athanasius.�

She smiled a bit at Ron�s protectiveness.

They had tea, and as much as Hermione wanted to forget
what happened, she kept thinking about it.

Book? What book?

And then she remembered, and suddenly, she desperately
needed to get home.

00000000000000000000000

�Blimey, Hermione!� cried Ron as they walked up from the
driveway to the house. �That had to be
your most reckless driving ever! And
from someone who crashed a flying car, that�s saying something!�

�Thanks, Ron,� she said automatically, not bothering to
figure out if he was really giving her a compliment.

She left Ron in the kitchen to unload their groceries and
rushed up to her bedroom. Frantically,
she grabbed her work bag and rummaged beneath the thick pile of folders that
she had magically stuffed in it to fit.

Frenzied, she turned the bag over on the floor and shook
out its contents.

It fell to her floor with a messy splat and getting down
on her knees, she rummaged through the pile.

She found what she was looking for.

Nauta Oira.

�Bound Eternal�� she whispered, trembling at the shocking
reality that she was reading it.
Understanding it.

She wrenched the book open to the first page and the words
jumped at her from the leaves.

�I am ashamed that the color of
your skin fills me with fear. I am
mortified that my fear of change keeps my eyes closed� no,� she
whispered, flipping further into the book.
She realized that she could only comprehend some words, but that was
disturbing enough.

��There is beauty in this golden cage,� she read out
loud. �What the�what the hell does that
mean�.?�

She flipped to the back, hoping there was an index. Hoping she could read that particular passage
in the book. The words formed. She could
read it and she paled: Blood weave. Bone bound.
Spirit immortal.

�What have I done?� she whispered, turning page after page
of comprehensible and incomprehensible text.
She could read some of the words as if she had been doing so all her
life, yet a lot of the words were beyond her understanding.

But she needed to know.
She desperately needed to know.
She suddenly felt like her life depended on it, and if she didn�t
understand it soon, everything she worked for; everything she lived for, would
be gone.

Ultimately, she couldn�t explain what was happening. It was
terrifying her. It was like that hollow
in the pit of her stomach she got when she discovered that she had made a grave
mistake, except this pit went on and on and on.

How did this happen?
Why? Why was this happening?

Lysander, who are
you? WHAT are you?

She could feel her muscles knotting from the strain of her
climbing fear and panic. She couldn�t
deal with this all-encompassing dread if she didn�t understand any of it. She needed to find out what it was and she
needed to find out now, but she had no idea where to start. Absolutely no idea! And that was the worst part, wasn�t it? That never happened to her; when she was
completely devoid of an opportunity. Her
brilliant mind had always been prepared to seek out an opening to any
problem. There was nothing in this world absolutely closed to a way out. But right now, it was just miles and miles of
dark blankness.

If she was ever prone, she would have had a nervous
breakdown right there.

Something in her chest tightened, and she could feel her
lungs begin to constrict.

Was she having a heart attack? Were her lungs failing?

That can�t be right.
She was only twenty years
old!

She dug frantically through her pile.

Lysander�s
background information.

She had them here somewhere. She had to start somewhere!

Where the FUCK was
it?

�Hermione?�

She screamed, whirling to look at her door.

Harry looked shocked, then alarmed. �Hermione!
Are you alright?�

�Oh, God, Harry!� she yelled, breathing and swallowing
laboriously. She clasped her hands,
willing herself to calm down. �You scared the shite out of me!�

Harry was beside her on the floor, the worried look on his
face intense. He put his arm around her shoulders and held her tight. �You�re shaking� Hermione, what�s wrong?�

�N-Nothing! You
just�you just startled me, is all,� she stammered, gathering her things from
the floor. His presence was already
calming her; making her feel like everything was going to be alright. �I guess I was a little wound up��

He frowned. �Ron
told me about what happened in the coffee shop.�

Her jaw dropped.
She was going to kill Ron. She
breathed, her annoyance overtaking more of the already ebbing fear. �I told him to let it go.�

She stuffed her things in her bag, trying to reorganize
her thoughts and emotions the way she was reorganizing her briefcase. She decided right then that if she was going
to approach this matter with her usual determination, she had to calm
down. And yes, she wasn�t going to tell
Harry for the meantime. She wasn�t going
to tell anybody. It was bad enough that
her complete lack of knowledge had dragged her
into something she didn�t understand, so she was afraid that any further
carelessness on her part might put Harry and Ron in danger. She had to find out more before she told
them; before she asked for their help.

Tell him, urged a distant voice within
her. Why
are you keeping this a secret?

You don�t know if
you�re putting him in danger, said another. It
was her mind�s voice. Not an echo of
someone else, but strange, nonetheless. Poor
Harry has enough on his mind these days�

She shook her head, blinking.

�He�s worried about you, too, you know,� Harry said. �Ron said you were upset. What did Athanasius say to you?�

Hermione tried to steel her thoughts. �He asked about the proposal I gave him and I
said I don�t think we can push through with it.
He�� She cleared her throat. �He�s asking for too much.�

Harry stared at her, like he was searching her eyes for
something she wasn�t telling him. �What
was he asking for?�

She was almost sure Harry knew exactly what was going on,
but she kept her composure. �Well, he
didn�t actually say it, but� well,
you know� after everything he�s done for
me, it was quite clear what he was expecting from me, don�t you think?�

Harry scowled.
�That dirty bastard. I ought to��

�Just please, drop it, Harry. I absolutely don�t want to have anything to
do with him anymore. I don�t care if he
bloody hands me the Elf Law right this very moment, passed and formulated by
Higher Legislation. I just don�t want to associate with him again;
not in any way; not even through you. Do
you hear me?� She was earnest, now. She was desperate for Harry to listen to her,
and while she was completely aware of how much she had omitted, she had this
nagging feeling inside her to keep it to herself.

She needed to do research.
She was at her element, that way.
If only she knew what she was dealing with, then she could alleviate
this gaping chasm in her thoughts.

She let out a breath and smiled, pressing her hand
tenderly on Harry�s cheek. She couldn�t
help but feel so loved; so protected.
She can do this.

�You�re always looking out for me,� she said softly,
trying to convey all her appreciation through her eyes. �You always make me feel safe.�

He pulled her in a tighter embrace and she closed her
eyes.

�I always want to keep you safe,� he said in her
hair. �But you have to�you have to tell
me if you know things, Hermione. I can�t
protect you if you keep things from me.�

She sighed. �Harry,
I�m not�I just have to work a few things out, that�s all. Don�t worry about it, alright? You know me.
I won�t take unnecessary risks.
I�m Ms. Prefect and Head Girl, remember?�

He chuckled. �Ms.
Killed or Worse Expelled.�

She looked up at him questioningly. She didn�t get it. �What?�

He laughed. �You
don�t remember?�

She shook her head.

He threw back his head and laughed harder. �First year.
We just barely survived an encounter with Fluffy, and we went back up to
the tower, you said something like, �I hope you�re happy� we could�ve been
killed�or worse, expelled!��

Blinking, she had a lapse in memory. She couldn�t remember saying that, and she
couldn�t imagine! Were her priorities
that screwed up? Absolutely not! �I did
not say that! You�re exaggerating!�

He shook his head.
�Not at all! They were your exact words. Even Ron remembers it! Hell, we�ve been using that line of yours
between the two of us in the last eight years!�

�Good God, was I
ever that uptight?� Her voice was pitched.
She couldn�t believe she was ever like
that.

�Well, you know� Wind-GAR-dium
Levi-OH-sa!�

�Oh, dear,� she gasped, realizing finally that it was
true. She blinked, shaking her head at
this epiphany. �I always thought I was
horrible back then, but I didn�t ever comprehend how bad.�

He grinned, leaning over to kiss her forehead. �Oh, it wasn�t
that bad. We loved you anyway, and
like I told you, I desperately wanted you to be my friend. Anyway, you�ve mellowed over the years, but I
like that you maintained still quite a bit of it.�

She frowned. It was
difficult to believe him.

He smirked.
�Honest. And you know� I get so
very turned on when you�re being rather bossy��

She blushed at that, and she felt that all too familiar
sensation of wanting him desperately.
She looked at her door; which was open.

He must have read the look in her eyes because he made a
slow backward wave with his hand and the door closed; clicked and locked.

Grinning, she brought out her wand. �Should I do the insula, or should you?�

His lips were upon the crook of her neck and shoulders and
his hands were already pushing down the straps of her blouse.

�By all means,� he whispered. �Please do the honors.�

She pleased indeed, and Ron didn�t hear a thing.

00000000000000000000

The following day Hermione went to Hogwarts.

Determined to find answers, she brought Nauta Oira with her and planned to do as
much research as she could after she spoke to Headmistress McGonagall.

She had looked at the book again the previous evening, and
while she had managed to go through every readable word, the text was nowhere
near making sense.

The echoes of
Lysander would seep into her mind as often as she had expected them, and while
it annoyed her, she could at least take comfort in the strong possibility that
it wasn�t some kind of telepathic
connection. It certainly didn�t feel
like it. The echoes never really
responded to what she was thinking. It
was more like random memories that insisted on being played. She was, however, concerned at the direction
her thoughts were taking on certain matters pertaining to this� secret, of late.

She didn�t think she was being controlled in the imperius sense, but it was like she was
being� swayed not to tell.

She would have sought release from this if she wasn�t so
sure that it was her own reasoning persuading her one way or the other. It was her,
but a very secretive her.

It was odd, but she wasn�t completely adverse to it. She was, after all, only looking out for
Harry and Ron. She just wanted to make
absolutely sure that she wasn�t inadvertently putting them in harm�s way by
telling them.

As Hermione walked up the front steps to meet McGonagall
at the top, she was glad the Headmistress was comfortable enough of her not to
mind her coming in on a Sunday.

�That was quite the party you and Weasley threw Potter,�
she said, receiving Hermione in her office.
�I have to admit that I enjoyed myself rather well. And I was impressed
by Harry�s gentility� at least during his birthday speech.�

Hermione laughed.
�You sound as if you were expecting him to belch and scratch his crotch
all night.�

McGonagall had the grace to blush. �Well, of course I expected better behavior
than that from Potter, but that speech� well, he was quite eloquent, don�t you
think?�

�Oh, yes. I made
sure to tell him I approved.�

McGonagall arched an eyebrow and it was Hermione�s turn to
blush. She wondered if she should
explain she meant absolutely nothing by it, but doing so would only enforce the
fact that she unwittingly did.

�So, what can I help you with, Hermione?� she asked.

It was time to get down to business. �I�ve been wondering
about what you said that time I came over.
You know, when we were having dinner with Filius and Poppy?�

McGonagall�s brows furrowed, as if she was rewinding her
thoughts, before she smoothed them out.
�We were talking about Danaides.�

�Yes. Danaides
Athanasius. You said you didn�t know he
had a son, much less a grandson.�

The Headmistress nodded. �That�s correct. I found that a bit odd. I should have known if he had children, you
understand. As Deputy Headmistress then,
one of my duties was to send out admission letters.�

Hermione nodded, confirming that she and McGonagall had
thought the same thing. �I should think
that�s more than a bit odd, yes? Why didn�t you know?�

�I admit it gave me pause, but it�s not unprecedented that
an alumnus�s grandchild doesn�t get a letter from Hogwarts.�

That surprised Hermione somewhat. �When does this happen, then?�

�Well, in this case for instance, I didn�t become Deputy
Headmistress until 1991. Between 1958
and 1991, Danaides could have had any number of children and I wouldn�t have
known about them at all if the Deputy Headmaster at the time sent letters to
all of them and was declined. In this
instance, Danaides�s children could have opted to go to Durmstrang, or
Beauxbatons, therefore Danaides�s grandchildren
would not appear in Hogwarts�s records anymore and instead appear in
Durmstrang�s or Beauxbatons�s lists.
It�s even possible that they were educated in another part of the
world. Not all Wizarding is confined to Europe.�

Hermione thought about it.
There wasn�t any information stating that Danaides�s children had gone
to either Durmstrang or Beauxbatons,
but then her information may be inaccurate.
She was however certain that the Athanasius children did not leave Europe in the last thirty years, at
least not long enough for anyone to report that they had moved out of the
country.

�Minerva, is there any way that we can look into the other
schools� records pertaining to admission letters? I just want to know if Danaides�s children
had letters sent to them.�

�That�s classified information, you understand, between
Headmasters and such,� said McGonagall with an arch of her eyebrow.

Hermione pleaded her with her eyes. This wasn�t the first time she asked
McGonagall to bend rules as far as they could go.

�I won�t let you see the lists,� said McGonagall. �But I will gladly let you know if Danaides�s
children were in their admissions rosters.�

Hermione was relieved.
�Thank you. Umm, is it possible
that� well, that they don�t get sent
admission letters at all? Whether or not
they�re in Europe?�

�Only if they�re squibs.�

�Are there squib records then?�

McGonagall cleared her throat, as if she thought something
distasteful. �Essentially, yes.�

Hermione nodded.
�Will finding out take long, you think?
Or can I go by the library for the meantime?�

�You may take your time in the library,� said McGonagall.

Hermione was just about to excuse herself when McGonagall
spoke.

�Dear, can you tell me at least why this seems so
important to you?�

Hermione thought about it.
�I-I�m not sure why it�s important, Minerva. I just�I have this hunch� it�s nagging me. I�I
want to find out�� She reddened. Faced
with the prospect of verbalizing her suspicions, it sounded silly to her
now. �I just want to find out more about
the grandson, and I trust school records more than I trust Ministry ones. School records are less likely to lie; even
the ones in Durmstrang. The Athanasius
line isn�t the type, anyway, to have their names stricken from the records for
one dodgy reason or another. They have a
respectable line going back five hundred years��

McGonagall sighed and nodded.

Hermione left the Headmistress to her search while she
went to the library.

After her initial melt down the previous day, she had
managed to reorganize her thoughts and rake her mind for a lead. It was impossible, at the beginning, but
somewhere between the afternoon and that morning, she was struck by another
thing McGonagall had said the night she visited Hogwarts.

�Always thought
there was an otherworldly wisdom in his eyes,� the Headmistress had said.

That got Hermione thinking about other life forms;
sentient ones, like Centaurs and Mermaids and Leprechauns.

She had compiled several key words that might help her,
among which she obtained from Lysander himself, from their last meeting in the
coffee shop. With any luck, she would be
able to find a common thread and get some answers.

Hermione looked at her watch. It was still quite early. It wasn�t even lunch time, but she promised
Harry she�d be home that night; or else he would come on over and fetch her himself. It was terribly sweet of him, of course, but
if she let him fetch her, that meant he�d take her riding on his Firebolt over
the lake, and she didn�t know if she could handle that.

She would floo Harry a bit later. He could get unreasonably worried about her
sometimes.

When she got to the library, she didn�t tarry. She went to the shelves and began to pull out
books.

0000000000000000

Roughly three hours later, somewhat frustrated by her poor
results, McGonagall approached her looking rather grim.

�Hermione?�

She looked up miserably and tried to put on an
accommodating face for the Headmistress.
She managed a small smile.

�I�ve finished looking through the records,� said
McGonagall.

Hermione pulled up a chair for her. McGonagall sat. �And?�

�There have been no records of admission letters sent out
for Danaides�s children in the last thirty years. In fact, I was so perplexed that I looked
back on the records as far as I could go.
I assume their clan came to Europe five hundred years ago, because the earliest
record of their children was from that time, but� well, in the last five
hundred years, they were only sent admissions letters�� She paused, looking
flustered. �How do I explain this� The
first-generation batch, four of them, were sent when they first came to Ireland.
Among the four, only one was a son.
Isidore, actually, so he was the only one to carry the Athanasius
name. He attended Hogwarts, but his
sisters declined Hogwarts for Beauxbatons.
The next Athanasius Hogwarts letter� wasn�t sent out until Danaides.�

Hermione stared at her, rather shocked. But she steadied her reeling thoughts and
tried to come up with the most plausible explanation. �Well, they could�ve moved their children out
of Europe for a spell, during their
formative years� so maybe they got letters from the schools in�well�wherever
they were!�

McGonagall cleared her throat. �I checked those schools, which is why I took so long� there are no records�
unless they managed to erase their existence between then and now� there were no other Athanasius children in the
school records, Hermione.�

It was amazing. It
was terrible! What the hell was Lysander?

She pulled a magazine from her briefcase. It was Business
of Magic, and it was a back-issue.
She showed it to McGonagall.
�This is Lysander Athanasius.�

McGonagall looked at it.
�Well� he looks uncannily like his grandfather.�

�Oh? Somehow, that
doesn�t surprise me.�

McGonagall stared at her intently. �What are you saying, Hermione?�

�What you�re already thinking.�

�This can�t be
Danaides. He�d have to be at least in
his late fifties. Nobody could look that good at that age, even in the Wizarding
World.�

�Glamour?
Polyjuice? Switching? Muggle
surgery?�

�You know a glamour can�t, Hermione. No magic you�ve learned can. You speak of youth. If any of those
worked, wizards and witches would be applying them to their dying days. The only thing that might work with the kind
of effectiveness Danaides is exhibiting is Nicholas Flammel�s Elixir of Life,
and we know what happened to that.�

Hermione nodded.
Muggle surgery was out of the question, too. Lysander�or Danaides, looked like he
was�well, not a day over twenty-five.
That�s what Hermione told Harry that first time Harry questioned his
age. If she didn�t know Harry so well,
she would think his instincts a tad creepy.

McGonagall stared at Lysander�s picture. �I would say he might be a vampire, but��

�I�ve seen him walk in daylight, and pale as he is, he isn�t undead. Minerva, what other life form can live older
than three hundred years?�

McGonagall thought about it. After a moment of silence, she looked to the
Restricted Section of the library.
�There are� histories that the Wizarding World would prefer not to tell,
Hermione.�

Hermione�s eyes widened.
�Wh-What histories?�

�There is a tale, told even in Muggle campfires. It is old; ancient actually, and it
supposedly became the very basis of the first Government Sanctioned Genocide��

It made Hermione�s skin crawl. �Genocide?
Like the destruction of a people for being something?�

�Racial cleansing,� said McGonagall. �Worst than anything Muggles have ever
documented.�

�You said the Wizarding World would prefer not to tell
it.�

�There�s no written history of it ever occurring,�
McGonagall explained. �There are debates
on whether or not it happened at all.
It�s mostly speculation, but the more� eccentric free thinkers have
postulated that there is evidence to be found in stories passed along as
fiction. The stories, of course, have
been twisted to �misdirect�, so to speak.
But the old, ancient tale that supposedly propagated the idea of
genocide is relatively unchanged through the ages. There is a restricted book; a thesis of this
tale and theories the author formed from it.
Look for the book Dark Is the
Legend, and maybe we can shed some light into this.�

Nodding, Hermione stood to get the book.

00000000000000000

Hermione stayed late in Hogwarts; late enough for Harry to
come get her. He flew across the lake on
his Firebolt and walked across the field to the castle.

McGonagall joined Hermione to meet him.

�Well, Mr. Potter,� said McGonagall, looking rather
pleased. �I am glad to see that glamour
is holding quite well within the walls of Hogwarts. Perhaps this means you won�t be so adverse to
teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts some time soon.�

Harry smiled, draping an arm around Hermione who was
looking at him in astonishment.

�You were offered a teaching job here?� she asked.

He shrugged. �Only
in passing. I didn�t think the
Headmistress was serious. I wasn�t exactly
a model student.�

�I�m not prone to making jokes, Potter,� said
McGonagall. �And while I partly offered you the job hoping you
would accept and convince Hermione to
take the Transfigurations position, you�re easily one of the best candidates
for the D.A.D.A. office.�

Harry chuckled meekly and Hermione looked scandalized by
McGonagall�s irreverence.

�Now,� said McGonagall.
�Are you going to step inside like a proper gentleman or are you going
to just whisk Hermione away as fast as you can?�

�Umm, I think I�d rather opt for being a gentleman,
Headmistress.�

�A wise decision, Potter.�

McGonagall turned to lead them and Hermione exchanged
amused looks with Harry.

They had dinner in the Great Hall that evening, with
Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey. And after
pudding, McGonagall offered them a place in the Gryffindor Tower.

This time, Hermione declined.

�Madam Pince will be coming over tomorrow morning. Perhaps
she can help you better with your research,� said McGonagall.

Hermione was tempted, but she had work tomorrow. She didn�t want to shame McGonagall with
Heartcomb and Archibald. �I think maybe
I�ll pass on Madam Pince for the moment.
I can�t skip work.�

McGonagall seemed to approve. She knew all about responsibility. �Well then, I�ll consult with her for you, and I will owl you on significant
findings. Will that do?�

Hermione was ecstatic.
�Oh, yes! Any kind of help would
be most appreciated. Thank you,
Minerva.�

The Headmistress gave a nod. �You�re welcome. Now, I believe you and Potter have to be
going, as Rosmerta doesn�t take kindly to late flooers.�

Harry smiled.
�She�s in a right state tonight, actually. Barely got away with my life.�

�Then run along.
Goodnight to the both of you.�

�Goodnight, Minerva,� Hermione said, clasping the
Headmistress�s hand in a warm shake.

Harry gave his own goodbyes and they were off to the edge
of the lake.

He cast locomotor on
his broom, leaving his hands free.

�Care for a ride, love?� he asked, gesturing to the broom
that was hovering only a few feet off the ground.

Hermione looked at it doubtfully.

He chuckled. �It
won�t take off; not if you don�t want it to.
Besides, I�ll control the altitude.�

Sometimes, it was embarrassing to be so obviously dunce at
flying a broom, but she still preferred to walk.

�I�d rather walk beside you,� she said, grinning up at him
as she hooked her arm around his waist.

He smiled, draping his arm over her shoulders as they
strolled.

�Did you find what you were looking for in Hogwarts?�
Harry asked, idly kicking at a stray stone.

�Only part of it.
Some of my questions were answered, but nearly not enough for me to stop
looking.�

�What exactly are you looking for?�

�I can�t tell you yet.�

�Is it a surprise?� He tried to keep his tone light, but
he failed. He was worried about
her. He couldn�t mask it.

She smiled for him anyway, if only to try to alleviate
some of his anxiety. �I suppose you can
say that, but it�s not as pleasant a surprise as your birthday.�

�Or my presents.�

�Or your presents.�

He grinned. �You know, it might have been nice to stay the
night in Gryffindor Tower.
Sort of� do the things we weren�t allowed to do when we were
students.� He wiggled his eyebrows.

Hermione laughed.
�Next thing you�ll be telling me, Potter, is that you want to shag me in
the broom closet.�

�Now there�s an idear!�

�Oh, shut it. I
don�t know if I�d have the gumption. I
always felt Filch had some sort of peephole in there and he was seeing
everything that went on.�

Harry laughed. �Did
you really make checking the broom closet part of your Head Girl routine?�

She scowled. �Of
course, not. I only checked it when I
heard sounds from inside. I never
checked it hoping to find a couple
going at it. But I have to admit that
after catching quite a few of them, it got old.
I wasn�t embarrassed anymore.�

�Well, that�s rather tragic, isn�t it? That the excitement of it was lost on you?�

Hermione grinned, seeing the sparkle in his eyes. �Hardly.
I think I was more disappointed that everyone was having enough of it to
settle for quickies while I haven�t even had my special first time. It was embarrassing to be the oldest virgin I
knew, and I was only seventeen then!
With the war happening everyone was scurrying to get laid because no one
wanted to die a virgin, but perfect little me was too bloody good for the damn
broom closet!�

Harry frowned. �Who wanted to do it with you in the
broom closet?�

She rolled her eyes.
�I�m not going to answer that
question. Important thing is I got my
special first time.�

He smiled and kissed her tenderly. �Was it as wonderful for you too, then?�

�Oh dear, yes.�

�I was afraid you�d given in to Ernie. He didn�t look like he would have been much
fun for you. Lee might have been better��

She scowled.
�Harry!�

He looked at her rather sheepishly.

They got to the edge of the lake and they settled on the
broom together.

Hermione, not looking forward to it one bit, straddled the
broom and held onto it for dear life.
Harry encased her in his arms, just so she wouldn�t be so afraid. The warmth of him was instantaneous and her
tense muscles began to loosen instantly.

He placed a kiss on the crook of her neck and
shoulder. �Relax, love,� he said. �I won�t ever let you fall.�

She let his words run through her mind and found that it
would see her through anything. Harry would never let her fall.

Smiling, she craned her neck to look at him. �I know you won�t.�

He smiled and kissed her as they shot out across the
lake.
- 13
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Hermione Full of Grace

Chapter Thirteen � Asking the Right Questions