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Vox Corporis: Rebirth	By : egb67 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 43012 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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.

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Vox
Corporis: Rebirth

Chapter 89

�SACRIFICE�

Original story by -> Miss_AnnThropic

fanfiction
(dot) portkey (dot) org/story/6586/1

Email:�
miss_annthropic (at) y*hoo (dot) com

Pursuant to the Berne Convention
Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital
Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, this work is copyrighted 2007 with all
rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion
may be reproduced in any fashion without the express written and notarized
permission of the author.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry
Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, � 2007, to
whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.

CONTENT
Disclaimer: This story contains
sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for
minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be
here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in
the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and
characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons
(living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually
explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories
featuring group sex, bisexual situations, incest, or any other situation,
please check the story code before reading the text. These stories are just
that, stories, and the author does not promote or condone the activities
described herein

In
Gratia: The original story was created so beautifully and so powerfully by MissAnnThropic.� I owe a huge debt of gratitude to her for her
kindness in letting me �play in her sandbox�.

Note One: To those of you
who reviewed my last chapter � THANK YOU! I was really flattered by your
support and the encouragement you have all given me.

Note Two: I have adopted
the 'fact' that the Patil twins are from Kerala
State in southwestern India.
I have been reading �Alternative Medicine�
Posted by: "Canoncansodoff" Canoncansodoff at gmail (dot) com; (see: profiles.yahoo.com/canoncansodoff)
in which he talks about the Patil twins living along the southwestern coast of
India and, along with Hermione, treating Harry's wounds and forming a foursome.

Note Three: �Geisthersteller�
means �Ghost maker� in German. I hope that those of you who were confused by
the term took the time to look it up.

Note
Four: the terms �Ent� and �Mithril� are property of Allen & Unwin Publishers, Inc. of
London, England, and of the J.R.R. Tolkien Estate.
Their uses here are covered by the Fair
Use Doctrine of the Copyright Act of 1976 - 17 U.S.C. �� 101-810 and
the Digital Millennium Copyright Act - 17 U.S.C. �� 512 (Amended).

Note Five: I�ve corrected the spelling for the goblin, Ragnok. I am
sorry that this error has persisted, but one of my beta�s just caught it in
this chapter. Thanks to BarmyOldCodger for his unflagging,
unfailing support.

The last note: In Chapter Thirty-one of VOX CORPORIS, Miss_Ann
said: �A/N: In case it hasn't already become painfully obvious, I hate Ron. Hate
him with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.�
I know some of you think I've been harsh with his character, but trust
me, not nearly as vicious as I'd like to be. This A/N was just to reach out to
those Ron fans in the audience with this: sorry, but really, I can't stand the
guy.�

This is the one place that
Miss_Ann and I have really diverged. I don�t hate Ron. Harry chose him as his
best friend and I have to respect what JKR did in that regard. I will use Ron
to my own ends and to show some more of Harry and Hermione�s character in the
coming chapters because I think it�s useful to do so and because I particularly
like Luna. There are traits that Luna has that remind me of the person I once
was.

Printing Note: This chapter is 16, 885 words long, in 35 pages. The
margins are 1�. I write in Palatino 11 pt. font.

==========================================================

From Chapter 88 � �Geisthersteller�

Moonrise plus
90 Min. � Approx. 11:55 PM

�� Harry and Hermione were
running the perimeter of the Quidditch pitch as Knight and Sagehunter. Behind
them came an Ent, a Night Mare, a queen unicorn, a flying
fox (Parvati Patil), an Irish Setter (Seamus Finnegan), a Doberman Pincer (Michelle
Sullivan), a red fox (Rebecca Bones), a skunk (Adrianne Brand), a magnificent,
6� high Greater Kudu (Padma Patil), and a myriad of other animals. Among
Harry�s favorites was Ernie McMillan�s form. He had become a red
kangaroo. Somehow his magic had gotten it right by making him into a creature
that could stay still only rarely and had a very, very tiny brain. Harry
thought it fit him perfectly.

By the time the festivities were
over, sixty-two children had made the transformation. Harry was sure that not
all the forms had been recorded and he intended to keep it that way, at least
for a while. Hermione had expressed a quiet suspicion that the Headmaster might
have ulterior motives for allowing so many to become unregistered animagi and
Harry was forced to agree that everything might not be on the up and up and
that it made sense to keep some of the forms quiet.� Hermione, for her part, made very careful
notes in her private notebook and a promise to herself to look up each and
every animal that had been revealed. At least a few of them, she thought, might
not have been seen before in the magical world.

By midnight-thirty, Harry and
Hermione were in bed together; still awake and alert from the events of the
evening. It was a good thing that the next day there were no classes.

����

7:32 Pm.,
Sunday, Nov. 3, Head�s Common Room

�� Harry rubbed his eyes and
then put his glasses back on. He was tired � and frustrated � and it was only
just after seven-thirty in the evening.�
The fire in their common room was dying and he didn�t have the energy to
either summon more wood for the fire or to use his magic to stoke it back up to
a respectable level.

�Dobby?�, he finally said, tiredly.

A quiet �pop!� barely registered against the crackling of the
dying embers. Dobby was quiet for a moment, before addressing Harry. It was a
new-found behavior that he had adopted, which Harry very much appreciated.
�Master? Harry? What can I do for you?�

Harry looked at the elf and smiled. �Could you?�, he said, pointing at
the fire.� Dobby nodded and popped away.
A moment later, he reappeared with a very large stack of dry firewood next to
him. �Thank you, Dobby. I�m just way too tired to even move. Today was just too
long��

Dobby nodded, but said nothing. He knew his master way too well and was
content to help in whatever simple way Harry needed. There were always things
to do, so he never felt unused or unappreciated. He always had Mistress �Mione
to look after if things were too quiet � and there was always the work she had
him doing as the official Potter-Black liaison (and therefore the semi-official
liaison) of Hogwarts
School to all of the
other sentient, non-human species. It was good work, if complicated, and it
made him really stretch his talents�.which is something every house-elf
secretly longed to do.�

After re-stacking the fire, Dobby
looked at his master as he sat, semi-asleep, and realized that he was the
luckiest elf in the world. Harry Potter � the defeater of Tom Riddle and the
evil for which he stood � was just about asleep in his presence. Everyone knew
that sometimes Harry Potter took the term Constant
Vigilance to extremes � which included his sleeping arrangements. There was
no one else; save for his wife, in who�s presence Harry had ever been known to
fall asleep; unguarded. That Harry would do so in his was a testament to how
much he was trusted. It gave Dobby a feeling that was irreplaceable among
house-elves: the knowledge that he was in fact not just needed, but trusted and wanted.� There was no doubt
that Dobby would die rather than see any harm come to one Harry James Potter.

�Goodnight, Master Harry� Dobby
said almost inaudibly and then disappeared.

����

Harry moved uneasily. His neck was
stiff and parts of him ached. Not knowing what time it was, Harry thought to
himself �Tempus� and suddenly, a
green, glowing, almost-digital type read-out appeared in mid-air.� �00:30�, it said. Half-past midnight. He had
been asleep in the chair for over five hours. The fire had gone out and he was
shivering slightly. Realizing that he had to get to bed, he forced his body to
a standing position and then disappeared to the bedroom he shared with his
beloved wife.

It took a forcible act of will to
shed his clothes and climb into bed. The moment that he did so though, he felt
the warmth of the spot where Hermione had just laid and then abandoned for him.
The incredible protective power of her magic, that immediately reached out and
drew him in, was a cloak of love so welcoming and so all-encompassing that the
moment his head touched the soft, down-filled pillow, he was asleep again.

����

Elsewhere in the one-thousand
year-old castle; other couples snuggled closer together as they felt the
special magic which bound together the Head Boy and Girl wash over and through
them.� No one, save the most bitter and
hateful, could resist its calming effect. Couples troubled by petty squabbles
during the day were unburdened and those newly in love felt the reassurance and
encouragement of a love so strong that it defied words.

Two couples, in particular, felt
the magic most keenly. The younger couple � a powerful seventh son and his
bride-to-be � suddenly knew that they, too, could take on the world and win if
they stuck together and believed in each other. The older couple smiled in
their intimate repose and somehow knew, even though their conscience minds were
asleep, that the next generation was already present and ready to lead and that
somehow, everything was going to work out.

����

Nov. 14^th
- an hour before dawn, at the northwestern edge of the Forbidden forest.

The air was crisp as the last of
the evening stars began to fade from the sky. The fallen leaves were crunchy
under foot as Sagehunter and Knight ran side-by-side. �It had taken over a week for Harry to pull out
of the lethargy which had seized him after the full moon. At first, he had
chalked it up to the tiredness born of several very, very long days after the
initial transformations during which everyone had turned to him and Hermione
for guidance, and to a great extent, training in what it meant to be an
animagus.� It had left the Head Boy and
Girl no time for each other and as a result, set them both on edge emotionally.

It was bad enough, Harry had
thought, that he and Hermione had eclipsed their teachers � including the
Headmaster himself � regarding what it meant to be an animagus � but it was
worse that they had been forced to neglect all of their own, considerable
responsibilities in order to accommodate everyone.

He was glad, therefore, to be next
to his one true love � his wife and best friend � for their morning run. It was
private time � their private time � together and a time for them both to
exercise the wild side � that part that Kimmy had always called their �cat
thinking� -� of their personalities.

�Harry?� Hermione thought to him.
Harry slowed his pace somewhat and brought his body right next to hers. She
knew that he was over the funk that had gripped him, but she could still feel a
certain unease within him.

�I know, my love. I�m worried
about Molly and what we�re going to have to do in order to trap her and at the
same time, deal with Rita.�

As they ran side-by-side,
Hermione/Sagehunter let her magic flow towards him; to calm and reassure him
that everything was going to be all right. It didn�t always work, because he really
hated being manipulated, but most of the time it did, because Harry knew that
she was doing it out of her love for him and a desire that he be happy. Not
peaceful necessarily, but happy.

Nearing the clearing where the
Giant spiders had once lived, Sagehunter and knight pulled up short. One of the
perennial lessons from his Defense
Against the Dark Arts classes was that there was no point in walking into a
possible trap, if it could be avoided. Winning was often, as the false
Professor Moody had said, a matter of being in the right place at the right
time, and not doing something stupid in between times. While he wasn�t afraid of spiders � especially the giant
spiders �per se, he still had a
healthy respect for them and he knew that given enough of them, even as
powerful as he was, he might be overrun. Giant spider venom was very, very nasty stuff. It was ten times more
lethal than the Atratoxin of the
(Australian) Sydney Funnel-web spider.
Harry remembered reading one of the (few) textbooks in the Hogwarts library
which� directly referenced its muggle
counterpart and it had said that, instead of there being 0.07 mg of toxin per
bite, the giant spiders bit with 700 � 900 mg. per bite. That meant that short
of a miracle, if he were bitten, he was most likely dead. It would be like
being bitten by the basilisk during his second year, but without the benefit of
a Phoenix
around to cure him.

All in all, Harry wanted no part
of them.

�Want to go home?� Harry thought
to her. They had come almost eight kilometers and while both of them could
continue for another ten to twenty kilometers if absolutely necessary, neither
felt that being exhausted before their day even officially began was necessary,
either.

Hermione/Sagehunter nuzzled the
nape of his neck and used her considerable fangs to bite him in an erotic move
that never failed to get him excited. Growling his approval, Harry turned his
head and took her nape in his mouth and then disapparated the two of them back
to their bedroom.

����

Neither of them saw nor did either
feel the large, grey-black eyes that were fixed on the two of them.

Draco Malfoy watched from his
perch as the two famous animagi silently disapparated and wondered how it was
that they had pulled off that bit of magic.� His late father�s animagus teacher had spent
the last six months pounding into him, among other things, that it was strictly
impossible to do willful magic while in one�s animagus form. He had just seen
that his teacher was wrong and he wondered, as the sun�s tendrils made their
first tentative contact with the tops of the high, western mountains, what else
the old man had gotten wrong and if some of the �facts� upon which his plan
relied might also be wrong. Thinking about how much extra research it was going
to take to clarify what else he might have missed gave him a headache.

Flapping his wings, Draco Malfoy �
the very last of that name � flew off silently into the night; headed towards
his temporary hide-out in the mountains.�
It was going to be a long day and night, no matter what he did. As he
flew, he cursed Harry Potter for the millionth time and wished he wasn�t so
completely alone.

����

Draco Malfoy was not the only one
feeling alone. Adrianne Brand sat on the edge of the parapet on the top of the
north tower and contemplated why her life had suddenly gone so wrong.� She had been driven away from the
seventh-year common room by the multiple hostile looks that she had received
earlier in the evening.

News of how she had tried to steal
Kim Chong�s boyfriend away from her using a subtle attraction potion and
binding charm had become widely known and more than one person had taken the
time to call her a slut or a slag to her face; sending her fleeing from the
room in tears.

As she sat crying, she thought
about her previous life and about volleyball � her first love. It seemed like a
world away from the magic, Scottish castle in which she found herself.

Hugging her cloak tight about her,
she watched as the sun�s rays took a firm hold of the mountain-tops and bathed
them in a pale yellow light. She didn�t hear her familiar � a northern spotted
owl named Snowball � and was startled
as she landed on her shoulder. She was carrying a message in her beak.� Reaching up, she took the note from her and she
clicked her beak in satisfaction. It was addressed to her � with her name
written in brilliant, metallic green ink.

6: 15 Am.; November 14^th

Adrianne Brand

Top of the North Tower

Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dear Ms. Brand,

�� Please come to my office as soon as you
can. We have things to discuss.

Sincerely,

M. McGonagall,
Headmistress-Designate

Lady Hermione J. Potter, Head
Girl

The second
signature both surprised her and somewhat alarmed her. It could only mean that
news of her indiscretion had made its way to the Head Girl and she had taken a
personal interest in what had happened.

Hermione was known to be fair and
to give everyone at least one chance, but it was known, too, that she was
someone you didn�t want to make angry, either. Adrianne�s stomach roiled as she
thought about seeing Hermione (from Harry�s memory of her), in the form of
Sagehunter; literally rip apart three death eaters. It had been so incredibly
violent; so thorough, that Adrianne wondered if Hermione had done it
before.� Then she realized that she
didn�t need to know and probably didn�t WANT to know. It was enough that the
Head Girl wore the Morgana�s Star �
which designated her as the most powerful witch currently living � and had the
backing of the most powerful wizard (probably) alive.

�Rising from the spot where she had hidden
herself, Adrianne sighed and then promised herself that no matter what
happened, she would face it with what dignity she had left.� �Coming?� she said to her pretty white and
brown owl.

Snowball gave a soft hoot and steadied herself as Adrianne turned
and made her way to the rickety stairs that descended down, into the heart of
the tower, and towards the Headmistresses� office.

����

Elsewhere in the school, Harry
Potter was up early and preparing the stack of papers necessary to tend to one
of the chores that he had been putting off too long � but it was not going well
because he was distracted by the fact that his body wanted more attention from
his wife and she wasn�t around to provide it. Further, he was frustrated by the
fact that he knew that Miranda Granger was going to be waiting for him in the
private conference room near the Headmasters�/Headmistresses� office in just
less than two hours� time and it wouldn�t do to be late for her. The problem
was that he was sporting an erection that didn�t seem to want to go away, no
matter how much he willed it so.� �
�Mione?� he thought to her.

�Yes, love? You all right?�

�Horny, �Mione. Wish you were here. I didn�t get enough of you last
night�.not that I ever could.�

Hermione groaned and squirmed in
place as quietly as she could, given that she was sitting in the Headmaster�s
outer office and across from her mentor, Minerva McGonagall.� She could feel Harry�s desire for her and his
physical need for release. He had taken his time the previous evening and over the
course of several hours, brought her to climax again and again, as he fucked
her both front and back.� While she was
still a little sore from it, she knew she could and would go several more rounds with him immediately � if she didn�t
have this early morning meeting.

�Harry? Take my pink silk knickers � you know the ones � that are lying
on top of the chair. Use those. I�ll get there as quick as I can and take care
of you. I promise!!�

It was Harry�s turn to groan with
desire. He knew that Hermione had just told him to go into their room and use
her pink knickers to stroke himself and that she�d come and take care of him
once her meeting let out. Harry bet that Hermione would do whatever it took to
speed the meeting up in order to get back quickly. She was that devoted to him
and their love that things like meetings were extremely far down her list of
�important� things to do daily.

Following his jutting erection,
Harry made his way back to their bedroom and found Hermione�s pink knickers on
the back of the chair before lying down on the bed.� No matter how many times Harry had jacked off
before, the ability to close his eyes and feel Hermione�s x-rated desires for
him and her touch always amazed him. It didn�t hurt that the silk of her
knickers, wrapped around his throbbing erection, felt amazing.� Harry knew that he was going to be able to
cum at least once, and probably twice, given how worked up he was.

As he lay back and began to touch
himself, he felt Hermione seep into his mind. Having her present in his mind,
to share his desires, was infinitely more erotic than being alone and he knew
that while his solo-sex was not going to be as good as being in his wife�s
arms, it wasn�t going to be bad by
any stretch of the imagination. All in all, it promised to be a very good way
to spend an hour�or however long it would take for Hermione to break away from
the early-morning meeting in the Headmistresses� office.

����

7:10 Am., Office of the
Headmistress-designate; Hogwarts

�� Hermione Jane Potter
looked at her mentor & friend and they shared a look that expressed both
the fatigue and irritation that they were feeling in the moment.� The fact that a student � especially a
seventh-year, had been caught using a compunction potion on another student, made
both of them grind their teeth in
frustration and look around for something to break, in order to relieve the
tension. In her position as Head Girl, Hermione had access to most portions of
each student�s file and was taking the time to read Adrianne�s file most thoroughly
as she sat by the fireplace.� Apparently
the girl was living in an all-female household when she wasn�t at school and
there was no father in the picture to guide or protect her.� As a result, Adrianne had somehow gotten
herself pregnant the summer before and then chosen to abort the baby using
muggle means.� While it wasn�t unheard
of, such things were exceedingly rare in the wizarding world, because of the
much lower birth rates among witches and the resulting elevated value of each
child conceived.� What troubled Hermione
as she read the folder was that there seemed to be a pattern of behavior which
could become significantly more self-destructive and cause the troubled girl to
flunk out of school.� As Hermione read,
she saw that Adrianne had twice been caught with Firewhiskey by her prefect the
year before � which made Hermione wonder whom she had suborned to get it � and
she had been found intoxicated in the fourth-year girls� loo on the Monday
evening, just before her spring finals began.�

Before she could ask the
Headmistress any questions about what she had just read, there was a quiet
knock on the door and it was pushed open. Adrianne walked in, carrying her owl
on her shoulder, and looking quite thoroughly defeated.� Hermione looked at the girl and silently
motioned for her to sit in the chair opposite to hers.

The Headmistress rose from her
chair and walked over to where the girls were seated and conjured a comfortable
chair across from them.� After a nod from
Hermione, Minerva McGonagall looked at the now slightly trembling girl. �Well?
What are we supposed to make of your most recent indiscretion, Ms. Brand? I
can�t imagine anything more stupid or more reckless than using a compunction
potion on another student!! Frankly, I�m amazed that I�ve been able to keep
this from the boy�s parents and from the Headmaster. Albus is much less
tolerant of such behavior now and might have already expelled you, if I hadn�t
acted quickly to quiet this situation. However, he has spies in every painting
and I can assure you that at least one of them is going to get wind of this
today, so if this is going to be resolved, it best be done this morning. What
have you got to say for yourself?�

�Adrianne remained silent for a moment, giving
Hermione a chance to give voice to her own thoughts. �Are you unhappy here,
Adrianne? I�ve been reading your file and it seems like you don�t much want to
be here. Twice you�ve been caught with Firewhiskey in the last year and at the
end of last semester, you were found, intoxicated and getting sick, in the
fourth-year girl�s loo. I have to think that something is really bothering you
or there�s somewhere else you�d rather be.�

Adrianne looked up at the Head
Girl and there were tears in her eyes. Hermione got the sense from the younger
girl�s expression that her original guess wasn�t far off the mark. �What is it,
Adrianne? I can�t read your thoughts � unless you give me permission � and I
can�t help you unless you tell me what�s really going on.�

In a small, halting voice, Adrianne
began telling the Head Girl a story of sadness and loss, based on a prophecy
that had crushed her dreams and broken her heart. Hermione knew, of course,
that Adrianne�s aunt, Muriel di Pilon, was a noted Canadian seer, but not that
a prophecy had been made about Adrianne the previous summer. When she finally
shared the wording of the prophecy, and told her and the Headmistress about the
young man whom she had come to love, both realized why the young girl seemed so
broken and dispirited.

When Adrianne finished speaking,
Hermione looked at her and reached out to lift Adrianne�s chin, so they were
eye to eye. �Why the compunction potion, then, Adrianne? Why Ms. Chong�s
boyfriend? And why did you think that was the best way to solve your problems?�

�He seemed�..I don�t know�.gentle.
He reminded me of�.Gerard�.and I thought that maybe, if he gave me a chance, I
could be a better girlfriend to him.�

In a much softer voice, Minerva
McGonagall leaned forwarding her chair and said, �That still doesn�t tell us
why you thought that would solve your real problem, Adrianne.�

�I didn�t, Ma�am. I just thought
that it would take away the pain.�

With that, Adrianne buried her
face in her hands and cried. Hermione knew they weren�t going to get more out
of the young girl � and she also knew that there was no malice in her and that
punishing her wouldn�t help the girl, but rather exacerbate her problems and
perhaps destroy the girls� life. As Adrianne cried, Hermione looked over at her
mentor and shook her head, as if to say that nothing more could be done
immediately.� Minerva made a series of
small hand-signs that indicated that she understood what Hermione had meant and
that she�d take care of getting the girl packed off into Poppy�s care
overnight. Hermione promised herself that she�d look in on the girl later that
day and make sure that Adrianne had taken the calming draught that Hermione was
confident that Poppy would provide.

Gathering her things with nothing
more than a flicker of will � which Minerva caught as an almost imperceptible,
momentary shift in Hermione�s attention � Hermione smiled at her mentor and
then silently disappeared.

Minerva quietly shook her head at
the blatant display of unspeakable power and magical control and then turned
her attention back to her fifth-year charge. Medical and counseling resources
were going to have to be gathered quickly in order to prevent the young,
beautiful, and highly-talented woman from losing herself in self-destructive
behaviors that would demean her worth and destroy her self-respect. Minerva
promised herself that she�d not see any of those things happen to another one
of her charges.

����

8:05 Am. � Heads� Bedroom � Hogwarts

Materializing a moment later,
Hermione turned and faced the bed that she and Harry shared and was struck dumb
by the most erotic site she could have ever imagined.� Harry lay naked in the middle of the bed. His
eyes were closed and beads of sweat were gathering on his forehead, as his
hand, along with her pink, silk knickers, silently stroked his rampant cock.
The entire tip of it was glistening with translucent pre-cum; the site of which
stopped her cold in her tracks and flooded her knickers with a wave of desire
that a moment before, she would have sworn she could not feel so quickly.

She closed her eyes and let her
magic and her thoughts enter Harry�s. Big mistake. The moment she saw what he
was thinking, she cursed herself for letting the meeting with Adrianne and the
Headmistress go so long. He was thinking about their first night together as
husband and wife � only, the dream had somehow morphed, so that what she saw
(and felt) was Harry licking her to a mind-shattering orgasm and then mounting
her from behind; filling her with his enormous, steely cock.� �Oh God,
yes�, Hermione thought to herself, as she practically tore off her clothes
and launched herself towards their bed.�
She was determined to bring him to the most powerful orgasm that she
could and then ride him until they both died of pleasure.

Harry felt her presence somehow
and was able to open his eyes just in time to see his beautiful wife launch
herself on top of him.� He said the first
thing that came to him. �Missed you,
�Mione.�

As she rubbed her naked body
against his, her magic took control and merged with his, even as his mouth was
capturing hers. �I love you, Hermione. I
love you and I never get enough of you.�

�I love you, too, and I�m yours for the rest of time. Take me.�

And take her, he did. Discarding
to the floor the cum-stained silk knickers which he had used to pleasure
himself, Harry rolled his one love onto her back and entered her in one swift
stroke. They both gasped as he buried himself in her to the root. �Oh God, �Mione. It feels�..�

�Hush, love. I know. I can feel what you feel. Fuck me now, Harry. Fuck
me hard and fill me with your cum.�

Harry could feel Hermione�s desire
to be pregnant and saw what she was planning. �Really? New Years?�

�Yes, Harry. New Years. I�ll be finished all of the classes I really
need here and I can spend second semester getting ready for the NEWT�s. Being
pregnant then won�t be a problem. I�ll also be off the potion by then and all
of it will be out of my system.�

The thought of his love being
pregnant with their child drove him to new heights and he plunged into her
again and again; driving her out of her mind with pleasure. �Cum in me, Harry!� she pushed at him,
and cum he did. Their lips met again in a passionate kiss and he silently
screamed her name as he emptied himself in her.�
The moment he did, her own orgasm ripped through her and reduced her to
a wobbly pile of thoroughly satiated witch-goo.�

����

An hour or more later, Harry
shifted in his sleep. His wife�s slow, rhythmic breath � which a part of his
semi-conscience mind could feel on his chest - was in time with his own
heartbeat.� Harry James, Lord
Potter-Black, was at peace. Not just at peace, but happier than he had been in
years, as his mind curled around the news that his true love wanted to start a
family with him and that they�d get to do so on their magical wedding night. It
was a dream come true.

The most powerful couple that
Hogwarts had seen since the Founders themselves might have slept longer, if the
insistent tapping of a birds� beak on the bedpost had not woken them up.

Calling Hedwig to him, using the
unusually strong magic which attached him to his familiar, Harry Potter opened
one eye and looked at his beautiful, white-feathered friend.

�What is it, girl? Is everything all right?�

Hedwig hopped closer to him;
balancing herself on his hip, which was covered by the deep-green and gold
duvet. Snapping her beak again, she shook her head and lifted one foot, as if
to point towards something. Harry�s gaze followed where her talons were
pointing, towards the Weasley clock.�
Harry�s mind did several bits of gymnastics all at once and he realized,
with a sudden and terrible clarity, that he was either going to be late or was
already late for his morning meeting with Miranda Granger. He also realized,
with sarcastic remorse that, if he didn�t move with alacrity and get there,
that he was going to be the late Lord
Potter-Black.�

Not wanting to wake his beloved
wife, but afraid of not doing so, he reached under the covers and cupped her
right breast in his hand; caressing the hardening nipple he found there, while
at the same time, reaching into her mind and mentally caressing her with all
the love that he felt.

Hermione stirred and almost
automatically pressed her breast into his hand; covering it with her own hand.
It was a response that thrilled Harry and made him very frustrated that he
could not stay with her and again show her how much he loved and desired her.

Leaning forward, and trying not to
further unbalance his familiar, Harry kissed his very best friend. �Time to get up, love. I almost don�t want to
know how late we are, but we�ve got to get going.�

Harry could feel the mental
grumble that ran through his wife�s thoughts and knew that she didn�t take
kindly to either getting up in the morning, when she was hoping for a good
lie-in or when she could tell that she was going to be starting the day out
already behind the eight-ball, as the Yanks liked to say.� He admitted to himself that he didn�t like those
things either, but that he had to do things, even if they were hard
sometimes.� He only somewhat grudgingly
admitted to himself that Dumbledore had been right. It just came down to the
difference between doing what was right and what was easy.

�Do I have to, Harry?� came her sleepy reply.

�Yes, love, you do.� Harry didn�t express, even silently, that he
had woken her up in part because he didn�t want to get yelled at again by her,
because he had done the easy thing and let her sleep in. The last (and only)
time he had made that choice, it had worked out very badly for him. Her slap
still resonated painfully with him. He knew, though he couldn�t tell why, that
he really didn�t like getting hit by people who were supposed to care for him,
and that was particularly true about Hermione.

Even as he sat up; letting Hedwig
adjust her position by hopping off his body and towards the foot of the bed,
Harry thought about not wanting to have Hermione see or feel those thoughts,
because of how much they might hurt or shame her.� It was very, very hard to hide anything from
her � so complete was their telepathic and emotional bond � and it took focused
effort to hide certain thoughts behind a metal defense tight enough to keep her
out.� He really didn�t like doing it.
�Husbands and wives shouldn�t have secrets from each other� he thought to
himself, as he stood up and moved around to the side of the bed closer to their
shared, walk-in closet.

Harry promised himself that he�d
take a shower later in the day as he began pulling on clothes. Because it was Saturday,
he knew that he had some extra time in the day to devote to taking care of some
of his own needs � a long, stress-relieving hot soak in their extra-large
private shower being among them.

Hermione, in the meantime, was
getting closer to being fully awake. She could no longer feel the comforting
presence of her husband, but she could
feel the wet, slippery essence of their earlier lovemaking. Reaching down
between her legs to touch her silky, bare sex, Hermione Potter tried to
capture, even but for a moment, the pleasurable memories of their repeated
joinings.

�Harry? Love? Come back to bed?�

�Can�t love�and you need to get up. It�s late and I don�t want you mad
at me for not rousting you out of bed on time.� She could feel his
frustration that one of their few, precious, otherwise-unscheduled Saturdays
were taken up by responsibilities.

�What time is it, or do I dare ask?�

�9:50 and I�m 20 minutes late for your mother. She�s probably started
to pace the conference room already and I know I�m going to hear it from her
about respecting other peoples� time.�

�Yes, you will. BUT�� and Hermione emphasized the word �but�, ��send her my way and tell her it�s my fault.
Tell her I told you about my plans for New Years��

�Falling on the sword for me in front of your mother?�

�No. Protecting my husband, whom I love. Now be quiet and get to the
meeting. She�s only going to get worse, the later you are.�

Harry pushed thoughts of love and
desire to his wife and then disappeared silently.

Looking up from her side of the
bed, Hermione saw Hedwig still looking at her. It was as if Harry�s beautiful
familiar was waiting for something. �What is it, Hedwig? You feeling lost
without Harry?�

To Hermione�s surprise � shock,
really � Hedwig nodded and then flew to Hermione. Landing gently on the Head
Girl�s sheet-covered shoulder, she leaned her head into Hermione�s face. Images
of a nest, eggs, and a larger snowy owl filled Hermione�s mind. �Can you hear me, Hedwig?� she said
silently.

The owl nodded and she gave a soft
hoot; once again rubbing the Head Girls� face with her soft feathers. �Can you hear Harry?� Another nod and
soft hoot. �You�re more than you seem,
aren�t you? Why tell us now?�

Images of a falcon, sitting in
tree, watching Knight and Sagehunter came to her mind. Something about the bird
was odd though and then she realized that it hadn�t looked right because of a
long streak of platinum-colored feathers from the tip of its head, to half-way
down its back. In an instant, she realized what she was looking at: Draco Malfoy.

The moment she had the
realization, Hedwig leaned forward and very, very gently nibbled her ear and
hooted softly.� �Proud of me for figuring it out, Hedwig?� Harry�s longest-lived
friend nodded again and leaned close, so Hermione could stroke her chest
feathers with the back of her right hand. It was something that she had seen
Harry do many times and it somehow felt right to do it, too.

�I�ve got to go, Hedwig. Harry will be waiting for me and I can't be
late getting back from shopping. I have to tell him about what you saw. That
creature is our enemy. Don't let yourself be seen by him. Do you understand?�

A single hoot that Hermione took
to mean �I do�. It was as if Hedwig
knew that she had to share Harry and tolerated it because Hermione seemed to
love him as much as she did.

As Hermione rose to stretch and do
her morning yoga, Hedwig flew to her day-perch and settled in to sleep for a
while. Hermione watched her go and envied the beautiful owl's ease of movement.

Eventually, the Head Girl moved to
the shower, to complete her ablutions and scrub off the dried remains of their
earlier games. She wished, as the warm water poured over her, that Harry was
around to wash her body. He always treated her so gently and was so good to her
that it was very hard to be without him.

Stepping out, after almost ten
luxurious minutes under the steaming water, Hermione wandlessly dried herself
and then set about working on her hair. It had been a long time since her
golden-brown mane was untamed. Their time together, after leaving St. Mungo's,
had been an opportunity not just to learn magic together, but also to live for
herself and for Harry. That meant taking time to work on her looks � from her
preferred clothing styles to her hair. The tiara which the Queen had sent was
one of her greatest joys specifically because of how well it highlighted her
gorgeous curls. It also didn't hurt that Harry had shown how much he loved her
by learning how to help her care for her hair � both by brushing it and helping
her to do things like French braids and other styles.

Summoning her chosen wardrobe for
the day by thinking about the message she wanted to put over while she shopped,
Hermione went about preparing her book-bag and picking out some earrings.� After rummaging about in the onyx jewelry box
which sat on the solid mahogany dresser, she finally settled on the
canary-yellow one-and-a-half carat diamond solitaires which Harry had bought
for her.� They were a �Friday-night� or
'just-because' gift�.one, among several, which he had given her simply because
it was a Friday-night and he wanted her to know how much he loved her.

Hermione smiled to herself as she
put them on and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The diamonds went well
with her hair-color and the color of her eyes. The perfectly matched diamonds
sat set in 22k, hand-hammered Indian gold, which Hermione suspected Padma Patil
had helped him obtain from one of the gold shops near her home in the capital
city of Kochi, Kerala, India.

Moving to her chest of drawers,
Hermione pulled out the top drawer and looked at her collection of knickers.
Smiling, she reached in, pushed all of the 'normal' silk pairs aside, and
pulled out one of her two 'special' pairs. Hermione had spent the previous seven
days feeling both horny and particularly naughty because of their joint
decision to try for a baby on their magical wedding night and was very aware of
her body. The toy that was magically attached to the gusset looked like some
kind of throbbing one-eyed snake as she stepped into them and eased them up her
legs. Once the tip of the toy was close to her sex, she adjusted its position
and sighed with pleasure as it slid in nicely. Reaching down with two anxious
fingers, she touched herself and then whispered the appropriate charm. Wiggling
her hips slightly, she could feel the toy's thickness deep in her sex and knew
that the toy wouldn't slide out on its own and it would stay nicely lubricated
all day.

She was tempted to reach into
Harry's mind and push to him her feelings and desires, so that he'd know how
much she wanted him, but she resisted because she knew that he'd appreciate it
all the more once she got back from her errands and he had finished meeting
with her mother.

As she walked around and dressed,
she felt the toy making its presence known. �I love being married!� Hermione
thought as she moved. Catching a glimpse of herself in the room's full-length
mirror, she saw what Harry saw: a beautifully-built young woman in pale pink
silk G-string knickers. It made her feel good that she looked so good and had
taken such good care of herself. She was glad that she had spent the time
running and exercising with Harry and that she ate carefully; despite the rich,
wonderful food that was so often served at Hogwarts. Being married to one of
the most powerful wizards since perhaps Merlin himself � and at such a young
age � allowed her to fully express and explore both her passions and physical
desires without fear that she'd be criticized for being a 'scarlet' or 'loose'
woman. Not that such labels mattered very much to her, really, but a large part
of British wizarding society was still very parochial in its mores and social
views.

Singing to herself, Hermione
thought about what the morning might bring and hoped that she'd be able to find
all the things she was looking for in London.
She thought that she might be able to put a small dent in the 'petty cash'
account that Harry had set up for the two of them to use to handle day-to-day
expenses. Since each of the Potter houses were separately endowed[1],
she had the freedom to use the petty-cash account for clothes, gifts,
registration fees, or anything else that might come up. Harry often used the
petty-cash account to buy potions supplies, books, or things from Fred and
George's shop. Once in a while, though, they used the account to pay for dinner
out. Those nights were special to her and she thought about how good she felt
to be with her best earthly friend.� I love you, Harry�, she thought to
herself. ��

Once she was finished getting
dressed, the gusset of her knickers was already damp from her excitement, but
she resisted the temptation to swap them out for cotton ones. The silk ones
felt better against her bare sex and were so much more sensual � not to mention
the fact that Harry loved rubbing up against them any time he had the chance.
Hermione never wore pants anymore for the exact reason that she wanted to give
Harry all the opportunities possible to touch and pleasure her. The truth was,
she was addicted to all the ways he desired her and didn't want to give up any
chance she might have to give in to their mutual desires.

Hermione reached her hand out and
caught her dress cloak in mid-air, once she was adorned and had put on some
perfume. Her favorite was the one that Harry had chosen: Colors, by
Benetton. It was a muggle product, but she loved the way Harry reacted to
it and so she wore it, rather than any of the more expensive magical
alternatives. Sometimes simple was better.

Looking herself over once more,
Hermione Jane, Lady Potter-Black, decided that she looked the part of a
matriarch of an ancient and noble house and silently disapparated for the
shopping district in downtown London.

��

10:15
� Hogwarts Conference Room #2

Harry Potter was finally tending
to one of the chores that he had been putting off for two long. To his right
sat Miranda Granger and in front of them sat several large, leather-bound tomes
marked with both the Potter Crest and the logo of Gringotts Bank.

Harry had always been pretty good
in math and didn't fear any branch of its study, but the principles of
double-entry bookkeeping were still eluding him. Miranda saw the look on his
face and knew that he was struggling to grasp what she had thought should have
been obvious: that the combined holdings of the Potter and Black estates were
growing at an alarming rate because of Griphook's and Ragnok's efforts and
there was now a serious need to begin not only a major effort towards asset
re-allocation, but more specifically, a long-term program of charitable giving.
Between the 'magic' of compound interest and unearned income (capital gains),
the two estates were growing at the incredible rate of almost 9% per year, after
inflation.

Miranda's back-of-the-envelope
calculations had shown her that in less than five years, Harry and Hermione
would be worth over a billion galleons � over ten billion US dollars � if no
effort was made to give major portions of it away.

�Harry� she said, pointing to the
pre-tax (EBITA) number at the bottom of the left-hand ledger page, as well as
the somewhat smaller number on the bottom right of the next page. �This can't
go on for much longer. Your estate is beginning to suck the life out of the
British wizarding economy, if what Ragnok said is true.�

Harry laughed nervously, without
looking at her. It was extremely embarrassing to him that he hadn't really
realized what Ragnok had been eluding to when he said to Harry during their
last meeting, �You've got to start spending some of this, Lord Potter. It does
no one any good if it's just sitting here in your vaults collecting dust and
interest at roughly the same rate.�

Harry had gone to Gringotts in
order to retrieve some of the scrolls containing the Potter family magics when Ragnok
had asked him for an audience in order to address certain concerns which he had
regarding the unchecked growth of the Potter family's wealth.�

Directory Ragnok's personal
request to Harry that he begin using some significant portion of his vast wealth
had been Harry and Hermione's inspiration for inviting Miranda and Jake to
Hogwarts for dinner and a few days respite from their demanding dental
practice. Harry trusted that he 'knew' Miranda well enough that he could trust
her to help him figure out his vast holdings.

�Too much of a good thing, Harry?�
she asked him casually.

He couldn't argue with that. �Yea.
I thought that I'd be able to give enough of it away that I'd be able to avoid
this, but I guess I waited too long.�

�It's not your fault, Harry�,
Miranda said. �You didn't really put it off all that long. It's just that the
two of you are dealing with very large numbers in what amounts to a really
small pond.�

Hermione, who had been listening
to the exchange off and on through Harry, mentally snorted. �My mother has a
gift for understatement�, Hermione thought to him.

�Like mother, like daughter,
love. Where are you, 'Mione? I thought you said you just had a quick errand to
run before you came home.�

�If you must know Harry, I'm in
Mayfair, across from the U.S.
Embassy. I had some things to do on Fleet Street in order to prepare for our
wedding and then I had to go to Harrods. Your tea supply came in, by the way. I
had it sent to our postal drop in the Village. We can pick it up the next time
we go for breakfast.�

A poke in the shoulder brought him
out of his silent conversation. �Talking to Hermione again? You know, I hate it
when the two of you are together and suddenly you both go quiet. Jake and I
know you're still talking to each other...but it's creepy and makes the rest of
us feel left out.�

�Sorry�, Harry muttered,
sheepishly. He was embarrassed by the fact that his silent conversations with
Hermione seemed to genuinely bother Miranda.

Miranda eyed him and realized that
perhaps she shouldn't have said anything. The look on the young man's face told
her plainly that Harry was embarrassed, but his posture and demeanor said that
he was slightly angry as well. She most assuredly didn't want him angry.
Besides the fact that he could just turn her into a bug and then step on her if
he wanted to, she also knew that if Harry was upset by what she had said, Hermione
might very well go ballistic over it and Hermione
actually did frighten her. Harry was too gentle a soul to take out his
anger on her, but she remembered what her sometimes extraordinarily volatile
only daughter had been like growing up and then, at age 16, what she had done
to the Dursleys.� Irrespective of the
fact that Albus Dumbledore had promised her and Jake that Hermione didn't
remember the incident and would most likely never do anything like that again,
there was always a small chance that she would...and Miranda did not want to be
around when it happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pushing back in her chair, Miranda
tapped her chin with the end of the pen she was holding. �I think we're going
to have to go about this a different way, Harry. The problem is not so much
that you and Hermione have vastly more wealth than everyone else...because you
don't. At least when you compare it to the incredible inequalities in muggle
societies. At least from what I can see, it's that the British wizarding
economy is so small that any large moves by a significant player are
felt more quickly and deeply than they would be in a muggle economy. I think
that what you've got to consider is helping those around you to start their own
businesses.�

Harry brightened a bit at that. �I
did that with the twins � Fred and George Weasley. I gave them a thousand
galleons to open their shop in Diagon Alley.�

�That's what I'm talking about,
Harry. You could invest in some or all of the new businesses, depending on what
your friends want.�

�Most of them are just
scared, mum. I don't think any of them are taught at home that starting your
own business is something that they could grow up to do. It's a lot different
in the muggle world, as you know.�

�Well, you've got to start doing
something, Harry. You can't just sit on this problem and hope that it goes
away. You're going to have to be pro-active. Have you thought of just asking Hermione
what businesses she thinks might work?�

�Well, as far as that's concerned,
no, I haven't. But, as to what to say to any of the others...I'm lost. I've got
not one clue as to what any of them could do. I thought that maybe, if Neville
can't get any help from his grandmother, I'd like being able to help him to
start a business supplying potions ingredients from stuff he could grow. But,
I'm not sure he'd go for it. You know, even Hermione is completely lost when it
comes to this stuff and that's saying something.�

Miranda smiled. Hermione was being
self-deprecating if she had told him that taxes and finances in general
befuddled her. The truth was that Hermione was a great deal smarter at
seventeen than she had been at twenty-five or even thirty.

Reaching across the table, Miranda
touched Harry's arm and gave her son-in-law's hand a squeeze. �We'll get things
straightened out, Harry. Don't worry. It may take some time, but we'll do it. Ragnok
and Griphook will see their way clear to help you � and us � get some of this
money distributed and circulating. If we put it to them that more customers
means more fees and more business overall, they'll help. Of course, they may
grumble about it, at least at first, but they'll help.�

�How much of it can we give away?�
Harry said, hopefully.

�You mean in raw amounts? Or as a
percentage?�� Harry thought about that
for a moment and then said, �Percentages will do.�

Closing her eyes for a moment and
rubbed them with the palms of her hands. She leaned back and said, �Oh,
probably forty to sixty percent. It depends on whether you and Hermione find
worthwhile projects and people in whom to invest. You may want to spend some
time finding out how other really rich people have invested their monies first,
though.�

His head was starting to swim with
all the things that he was going to have to do in order to be free of the
tremendous burden that was his money.�
Like everyone else who had grown up as a muggle, he had heard about the
Gates Foundation and about people like Warren Buffet and George Soros...both of
whom had given billions of dollars away to charitable causes. Harry wondered
idly if he and Hermione should think about doing the same thing in some kind of
wizarding equivalent � or in a hybrid organization that took advantage of best
instincts of both worlds.

�Mum? What would you think if
Hermione and I gave Charlie Weasley control over some of the land that the
Queen gave us in Scotland
for a dragon preserve? He's been in Romania
for a long time now and I think he'd enjoy being closer to home and working
with some of the dragons here in England.�

Miranda took a deep breath and
then let it out to a slow six-count. �Harry, until recently, I thought dragons
were a myth. Now you're telling me that they're not only real, but there are
dragons here in the U.K.�

Her statement took Harry off-guard
for a moment. �Mum? Didn't Hermione and I tell you about my out-flying a
Norwegian Ridgeback dragon in the beginning of our fourth year? I'm almost sure
we talked about it at some point.�

Miranda looked at him with the
same chocolate-brown eyes that Hermione used on him with such great success. �I
didn't remember, Harry. Maybe you did. I just don't know. I think that's
something I would have remembered hearing, though.�

The concern for him was very
evident in her voice and it struck him in a place he hadn't expected and more
deeply than he had ever expected. In so many ways, Harry had come to see Jake
and Miranda Granger very much as parents. He cared about them very, very much.
�Mum....can I have a hug?�

She nodded mutely; his sudden
surge of emotion a surprise to her. Harry stood and moved close to her, so that
he could embrace her and rest his face against her shoulder. It didn't take a
genius, Miranda thought, to recognize that Harry Potter the young man � not the
'boy who conquered',� valued love and
acceptance above all other things and that she had finally made a true
connection with her son-in-law. The specialness of the moment made her cry,
too,

�Hermione's pretty lucky, Harry.
She's lucky to have someone so special to love�, she said as she hugged him
back tight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six hundred miles away, as she was
browsing a rack of clothes in Marks and Spencer, Hermione Jane Potter felt her
husband let go of the strict emotional controls which he kept over his magic.
It was like a massive, hot wave washing over her and it caused her to sway in
place for a moment.� She reached out
magically. �Harry? Is everything all right?�

�Yes, love. Everything's fine�,
came his reassurance, as he pushed at her the memory of all that had passed
between him and Miranda.

Hermione knew, once she had felt
and seen Harry's memories, that everything was all right and that Harry
was missing her as much as she was missing him. The only difference was that
every step she took pushed her that much closer to the edge of her next orgasm.
She had already cum twice � just from walking with the 'Harry-sized' toy in her
sex. The first hit as she was stepping into a crowded lift in Harrods � which
caused her no end of embarrassment � and the second one struck as she entered
the bridal shop down the street. She had to grab the door-frame and steady
herself, as her breathing was hitched and labored.

Once she righted herself, it was
necessary to perform a discreet, wandless 'Evenesco' between her legs to
remove the more visible wetness from her knickers and skirt. �She was wearing a blue silk camisole
beneath a gray silk, short-sleeved turtleneck sweater and the matching silk,
knee-length skirt. She had foregone a bra because of the silk Cami � partly
because you just couldn't wear them together (it made the Cami look lumpy and
caused it to not sit right on her body), but mostly because it felt so damn
good against her nipples.

The two-inch heels she had picked
completed the outfit and gave her the height that she wished mother-nature had
granted her.

Marks & Spencer was
too public for what she desperately wanted to do, which was to find somewhere
private and use the toy the way it was meant to be used. She was sopping wet
and as worked up as she thought it was possible to be. �Fuck! Gotta find a
private loo somewhere.� Hermione thought as she looked around the store.
Finally, after several frustrating minutes of searching, she saw a discreet
sign above a doorway, indicating that the loo was for 'employs-only'. �Perfect�
she thought. �They'll never know I was there�. She disillusioned herself
and made her way carefully and slowly towards the archway. The toy was her
enemy now because every time she moved, the toys' ridges and size stoked her
fires.

It took another full minute to get
inside the loo and seal it magically against intrusion and sound. The last
thing she wanted was for anyone to hear her scream as she came. Her hands flew
to the buttons that held her skirt up; freeing them and letting the skirt
puddle around her feet. Quickly pushing her hand down into her knickers, she
grabbed the base of the toy and used her magic to detach it from the gusset.
Once it was free, she withdrew the toy from her trembling body and then plunged
it back in. She gasped with pleasure as she repeated the motion again and
again.

With one hand holding the toy and
the other furiously rubbing her clit, she closed her eyes and thought back to
the previous night, when Harry had taken her up against the wall. It was one of
her favorite positions � having one of her legs up over his shoulder and his
cock filling her again and again. Sometimes he would crane his head and take
her bullet-hard nipples between her teeth. She loved how he bit down on them,
because the frisson between pain and pleasure was so narrow and he always
seemed to walk on the side of pleasure for her.

It didn�t take long for Hermione
to lose the battle against the orgasm that had been threatening to overtake her
all morning. Thinking about how good it felt to be taken by Harry was more than
enough to cause her to scream out her climax and it left her ragged and wrung
out.

Leaning against the wall, to the
left of the room�s only coat-hook, Hermione Jane Potter grinned to herself. She
knew that the memory of being forcefully driven to climax by thoughts of him was going to be the perfect entre
into another glorious night of love-making�and nothing made her happier or more
content than sharing love with the young man who loved her more than life
itself.

What Hermione didn�t know was that
in the tall, stone castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
a black-haired, green-eyed young man had to grip the table in front of him hard
and forcibly close off the connection that led back to his erotically charged
wife.

It was going to be a long morning, the young man thought.

��

12:17 Pm. Sunday, November
14^th; in Dumbledore�s sanctum sanctorum

�

�You wanted to see me,
Headmaster?�

Albus Dumbledore very much did
want to see the Goblin who had just come by floo to his innermost office. �Do
you have the item?� the Headmaster inquired gently.

The toothy grin confirmed that the
elder Goblin did indeed have what Dumbledore had ordered. �But of course,
Headmaster. When we received your order, we were surprised, but delighted. It
has been such a long time since the last one.�

The older wizard chuckled to
himself. He could only imagine how long it had really been since the last time
a soul-jar had been ordered. It was not exactly something that was requested by
the run-of-the-mill witch or wizard. By Ministry for Magic decree, any item
pertaining to or having direct use in a soul- or blood-ritual had to be
registered with the Ministry and its intended purpose approved.� Dumbledore knew that he, Harry, and Hermione
had no desire to have a Ministry worker looking over their collective
shoulders; questioning every little thing that they planned to do.

The leather and Mithril-clad Goblin looked at him. �Do
you have the agreed-upon fee? And do you have the Sword?�

Dumbledore laughed. �Direct as
always, Stonenasher. Yes, I have your fee and no, I do not have the sword. I
do, however, have something that you might value more.�� Reaching over to the shelf above him and to
his right, Dumbledore brought down a finely-wrought, platinum and diamond
tiara. Laying it on the small desk in front of him, he looked the Goblin in the
eye. �Well?�

The Goblin�s eyes were wide with
wonder and appreciation. There was only one thing that the small tiara could
be: Rowena Ravenclaw�s coronation tiara.
It was not just a Hogwarts Founders� artifact, but also a direct link to the
first Goblin artisans. It was worth infinitely more than Godric Gryffindors�
sword, even as powerfully magical as the sword was.��

�It is�� the Goblin feverishly
worked to suppress his excitement �acceptable, Headmaster.�

�Ah�there�s that word,
Stonenasher. Let us be clear then. Accept our payment for the item we have
requested and depart with the Tiara, but never seek the sword again. It is not
mine to give, and has, in any case, passed to its rightful owner. He is a
person whom you would not make happy by approaching for the swords� return��

In the smallest of voices, the
Goblin looked at his temporary host. �HE
has received it, then?�

�Yes Stonenasher, HE has. I doubt whether Ragnok would
look kindly upon anyone who antagonized him, even as charitable and
understanding as he is given to being.�

It is lost to us, then. Stonenasher thought to himself. Oh well, we never truly expected its return.
If Lord Potter has it, we will let it be. Ragnok would personally gut me and
set me to roasting for his dinner if he learned that I drove the Potters from
holding their accounts with us.

�Very well then, Headmaster. It is
probably wise not to pursue the matter. Give me your payment now and I will
give you what you ordered.�

Dumbledore nodded and wandlessly
summoned a very large, black leather bag, with the letter G on it. It was an
�almost-bottomless� Gringotts bag and at the moment, filled with 100,000
galleons. Placing the bag on the table, the Headmaster looked down at
Stonenasher expectantly.

Reaching into a very specially and
meticulously-warded pocket inside his traveling cloak, the Goblin withdrew a
small, ornately-carved box. Waving his hand over the box, the Goblin muttered a
short incantation and watched in satisfaction as the box more than doubled in
size.

�Please examine it, Headmaster. We
want to make sure that the order is complete and that you are getting what you
thought you ordered.�

Curious as to what the Goblin
artisans had created; Albus Dumbledore reached out and lifted the lid. Inside,
resting on what looked like red leather, lay a 20 � 22 cm. long crystal jar and
matching lid. It was slim; perhaps not more than 10 cm. across, but it seemed
very solid to the eye. With both hands, the old man lifted the jar up and away
from its bed, so that he could examine it in the light. It looked like it had
been cut from a single diamond, rather than created by hand. The lid, when he
tried it, fit as though it was also cut from the same diamond. The magic which
gave the creation its power radiated in all directions, just like the rainbows
of light that the crystal refracted. Albus could tell that it was worth every
Knut that he had paid for it.

�It�s beautiful, Stonenasher. Your
artisans have outdone themselves yet again. Merlin himself could not have done
better, I think.�

The diminutive, elderly Goblin
looked up at his white-bearded friend and for a moment, was at a loss as to
what to say. He knew that Albus Dumbledore was very, very sparing with praise
in the best of times and for him to so liberally acknowledge his craftspeople
was unprecedented � though hardly unwelcome. Ragnok might actually be pleased.

Bowing his head slightly, in
acknowledgement of the older wizards� praise, the Goblin said quietly, �It�s a
good cause, Albus. I�ve never heard of such a thing before, but I think that my
opinion of witches has changed for the better, after learning of the sacrifice
that your colleague plans to make.�

There was nothing more to be said,
really, and so with a small waive of his hand, the bag that contained the
Headmasters� payment disappeared into Stonenashers� secure traveling pocket and
then, just as quickly, he was wrapped in the cloak and stepping towards the
fireplace. Taking a handful of floo-powder from the ornate, lacquered box on
the mantle, he paused and then turned to face the Headmaster. �You are a
Goblin-friend, Albus. Never hesitate to darken our door, for you will always be
welcome.�

With a casual flick of his hand,
the floo-powder dropped into the fireplace and created the ubiquitous green
flames that every floo-traveller knew. With a half-step forward, he was gone,
leaving the Headmaster to think about what was going to happen on the morrow
and about the nature of self-sacrifice.

���

2:05 Pm. Sunday,
November 14^th, in the
Head�s Common Room

Harry Potter�s clothing lay strewn
around their shared common room; as if he had stripped down as he walked
through on his way, perhaps, to the shower.�
The truth was that Harry Potter had a wife who desired his affections and
attention and wouldn�t take �NO� as an
answer. That was fine with him, of course, and as they merged for their third
bout of love-making, Harry Potter completely let go of the tight reins which he
kept on his magic and merged totally with the woman he loved so much.

��

4:21 Pm. Sunday,
November 14^th

�Are you sure, Albus?�

Minerva McGonagall rested her head
on the strong, tightly muscled chest of her lover as they lay together under
the covers in her forest-green bedroom. She was playing with the long locks of
hair that swept down from his head and laughing to herself that his hair was
longer than hers � something that was a bit of a novelty to her.

Albus Dumbledore was surprisingly
strong for someone who was nearing 170 years old, and it always amazed her how
energetic and capable he was as a lover and as a Headmaster.

As she looked at the broad expanse
of his muscled chest, she wondered what it would have been like to have known
him when he was a young man; in the early prime of his life. She realized, to
her chagrin, that given how thoroughly he had brought her to climax again and
again the evening before, she might not have survived �knowing� him when he was
a young man.

He looked at his lover and friend
as her warm breath created its own magic on his skin. �I�m sure, Minnie. Mrs.
Potter and I will have to do the charm together, along with Rowena. It�s the
only way that we can be sure that the sacrifice is both voluntary and whole.�

She thought about that for a
moment and then asked, hesitantly, �Aren�t you afraid that it could disrupt the
blocks that she already has in place?�

She felt his fingers of his free
hand caress her face as he said quietly, �No, love. I�m not. She wanted those
blocks and I was most careful in their placement. Fillius helped me with them
and I�m sure that they will not be affected. Her blocks are not what I�m
worried about, actually.�

Minerva McGonagall snuggled in a
bit closer to him; suddenly conscience of the warmth of his body and her own
nakedness under the covers. �What then, love?�

�It�s Rita, actually. I�m not a
seer, but I believe that she will be the other �donor� for Harry�s cause. The
question is whether we can bring Alice
out of her stupor by using Rita�s magic � since it will be forcibly taken.�

The senior-most authority on
magical transfiguration in all of Great Britain was suddenly very
much awake as she contemplated her lovers� words. �She had spoken with Hermione�s grandmother
less than twenty-four hours before and knew that time was of the essence in
completing the ritual of sacrifice and repentance. The magical blocks which
they had had to place in and around the secure medical ward were starting to
degrade Rowena�s mind and her mental controls. It was worse, in many ways, than
what the dementors of Azkaban had done to the prisoners under their control �
less directly painful � but no less insidious and awful. The only difference
being that Rowena had entered the conditions voluntarily, with the hope that
she would be released from her self-imposed torture by Hermione�s forgiveness
and by that of magic itself. It was fitting punishment indeed, Rowena had said
to her in one of her lucid moments, for the crime that she had committed.

��Albus? Are we sure that Rita can be trapped
in such a way that we will be able to do what you�re contemplating?�

The Headmaster pulled her up so
that he could kiss her and then said reassuringly, as their lips brushed, �Yes,
love, we�re sure. Harry and Hermione, along with Arthur and his sons, have
talked it out. They will not fail us.�

Whatever she might have said in
response was lost as his lips claimed hers and the two lost themselves in the
love that they shared and the simple joy of having a long afternoon together
with nothing else to do.

��

6: 39 Pm.
Sunday � in the Great Hall

Dinner was a low-key affair. The
elves had taken the day off; leaving the students to take turns in the kitchen,
helping with dinner preparation.� Some
were grumbling about it, of course, but the Head Girl�s suggestion to the Headmaster
was generally turning out well. All those who had not actually prepared the
meal were made busy by setting the tables and doing all of the other work that
was necessary in order to feed the hundreds of students who comprised the
school�s population.

At Hermione�s insistence, Harry
Potter went to work in the kitchen, keeping a tight reign on the cooking while
she worked with all of the other students; doing the organizational work to
bring everything together. It was a valuable lesson to all about how much the
schools� house-elves did every day for all of them. The first-born students
smiled wry grins at their compatriots and listened politely (at least for a
little while) to their grumblings about how such chores were not �their� jobs
and how they couldn�t understand how first-born children had ever survived in
non-magical households. The one, surprisingly, who did the least complaining
was Ron Weasley. Luna had made it plain to him, privately, that if he was going
to live up to his destiny, then he was going to have start acting like a man
and doing �what was right, and not what was easy�.

Luna, for her part, helped Harry
in the kitchens. She loved to cook and found Harry to be an easy partner in the
task of directing all of the younger students. It was an easy camaraderie for
the two of them and at the end, both were smiling and standing arm in arm,
watching as the completed dishes of steaming-hot food were magically summoned
to the Great Hall.

�Fancy a real entrance,
beautiful?�

Luna nodded, shyly. She was only
beginning to get used to being told that she was beautiful and being told that
she was so not just by Ron, but by Harry as well, made her feel very special
and loved.

Harry disapparated the two of them
and, just before they re-appeared in the Great Hall, cast a series of charms
intended to create the illusion that they were walking out of a long, golden
tunnel, full of light and emitting streaming sparklers of every color.

There were ooows and awwws as the
two made their appearance. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were all applauding
the magic, while the Hufflepuffs mostly sat mesmerized by the show. Once the
special effects had disappeared, Harry waved to everyone and, giving Luna a
kiss on the cheek, pushed her towards her beloved.

Hermione looked at him and smiled
when she saw Harry kiss Luna�s cheek. She knew, better than anyone else, how
much Luna�s unfailing, unflagging support had meant to him over the years and
was grateful to the beautiful blonde witch for that support. Hermione felt that
Luna�s support and loyalty to Harry was one of the reasons that Harry had
survived all of his ordeals at Hogwarts through the years.

�Good job, love. You two certainly made an entrance tonight.�

She could feel his love radiating
towards her as he approached the table where she sat. As he reached her, she
stood up to kiss him. �Thank you, love. I
thought that Luna would appreciate it. Ron�s getting there, but he�ll never be
able to do some of the tricks we do now and I thought that putting her at the
center of attention for a moment would do her some good.�

As Hermione clutched the back of
her husbands� head and extended their kiss, there were a few cat-calls about
�getting a room� and �you�re making us ill� which finally grew loud enough to
cause her to flush with embarrassment and break off the kiss.

For his part, Harry could feel how
turned on she was and how strong her desire for him was. Since they had decided
to try for a baby, he had noticed that her urges had definitely grown.
Satisfying her was quickly becoming a full-time occupation � and one he
relished � as what was good for the goose was good for the gander. �

�Love you, Hermione� he thought to her, as they sat and ate.

�Love you too, my husband!�

Ron and Luna looked at the softly glowing
couple; held hands and smiled in knowing understanding. He and Luna had been
told by their Head of House, in no uncertain terms, that they glowed too, and
there was no longer any reason at all to be jealous of the �boy-who-conquered�.
�It was a lesson that the tall, no longer
gangly redhead was learning rapidly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the end of the meal, a small
almost paper-mache dragon flew across the Great Hall and into Hermione�s lap.
She lifted it up and it chirped at her. Touching it with a finger-tip, the
small dragon unfolded itself, to reveal a note in the Headmasters� script.

Harry, Hermione:

�� I
have received the soul-jar from the Goblins and have prepared the chapel for
the ritual. I would suggest haste, because your grandmothers� condition has
grown worse. I am available tonight and tomorrow.

Let me know.

A.W.P.B Dumbledore

Hermione looked at Harry as she
silently conveyed the message to him and then looked up at the Headmaster.
Tapping the note, she penned a quick reply and then sent it across the Great
Hall � but in the form of a red, fiery phoenix.�
She smiled as all of the professors at the head table saw what she had
done and broke out in spontaneous applause.�

�Nice, Hermione. I�m not sure I could have pulled that off. You�ve got a
great touch with transfiguration.�

�Oh Harry, stop. You can do magic about which I can only dream� Hermione
giggled silently, �especially that thing
you do with your tongue!�

Harry smiled gently at her. He
knew it wasn�t the truth, but he didn�t want to get into an argument with her
over the issue. He loved her too much to want to bicker with her about which
one of them was more powerful. It was a loosing argument either way. �He thought that it was like being asked by a
girl whether or not she looked fat in a particular outfit. There was just not
an answer that would be satisfactory. ��Love? If I�m powerful, it�s only because I
have your love in my life. I couldn�t do anything without you.� It would
have been a cheesy line if spoken aloud, but between the two of them, it was
verbal caress of love.

�Did you tell the Headmaster we�ll meet with him tonight? Are we ready?�

�We know the incantation, Harry, and if we don�t do it, my grandmother
might lose whatever grip she has on sanity. We�ve got to do it tonight.�
Reluctantly, Harry agreed. Rowena Granger was not in good shape and the most
merciful thing that they could do was to assist her in making the sacrifice of
her magic. It was tantamount to suicide in the muggle world � because it
considerably shortened the witch or wizards� life as well (it gave the person
the lifespan of a muggle). The emotionally horrible part of the sacrifice was
that it left the individual with the memories of being magical. Dealing with
that required the additional step of a permanent obliviate spell, cast by a trusted individual. The painful decision
as to which of them would cast the final spell; forever exiling Rowena from the
magical world, had finally come down to which one of them knew the spell
better. From Harry�s perspective, it had been obvious. Hermione was much more
familiar with the spell and knew the frame of mind that she had to be in for
the charm to work properly much better than he did.� He had seen a memory charm�s devastating effects
only once � when Gilderoy Lockhart,
their worst DADA teacher � had tried to use it against both him and Ron in the
passageway outside the Chamber of Secrets. Lockhart was in St. Mungo�s
long-term care facility for the mentally infirmed, and Harry thought,
privately, that their erstwhile professor deserved his fate and that the
galleons being spent to take care of him could have been better spent elsewhere
in the hospital.� Hermione was privy to
those thoughts, of course, but had never chastised him for them because she
knew the full context of the events leading up to the accidental, permanent
obliviation, and was equally unsympathetic towards the �arrogant, pompous git�.

However � Harry couldn�t dwell on it. Hermione needed him and there was
nothing that was going to keep him from being her support; even if that meant
helping Rowena Granger to sacrifice that which defined her in the magical
world.

��

8:57 Pm. Sunday
� Hogwarts� Chapel

The Chapel was a place that had
become well known to both Harry and Hermione. For Harry, it was a retreat and a
place of solace, where he could meditate, pray, and be alone. It was the one
place where the bond with Hermione could not reach; so thorough were the wards
and enchantments. For Hermione, the Chapel was a place to sit, to pray, and to
think and sometimes, to sing. She could sing and listen to her voice bouncing
off the stone walls and the ceiling.

Everything was still and quiet as
they entered the Chapel hand in hand. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were
not yet present, nor was the Headmaster. Hermione squeezed Harry�s hand gently and
pulled him close, so that when Hermione�s grandmother entered, she�d be ready
to greet her. �Harry? I don�t know how
I�m going to feel when this is over. I want to go home when it�s done, ok?�

Harry nodded mutely and pulled her
into his arms; surrounding her with as much of his presence as he could, while
caressing her with his magic. �I want to,
too, Hermione. I�m not sure about any of this. It feels too much like we�re
about to�.�� He didn�t have to say
anything more. Hermione knew what he meant. It felt like they were about to be
present for an execution; not an act of self-sacrifice. The thought that was
pervading his thoughts was that it felt like there was a Dementor coming and
there was nothing either could do about it.

Any thoughts about what they might
have or could have done differently to help Rowena were interrupted as the
Headmaster, Headmistress-designate, and the Charms-master entered the Chapel.
They were followed by two people neither Harry nor Hermione knew well; Amelia
Bones and the head of the Department of Mysteries and the hit-wizard corps, Kingsley Shacklebolt. �I wonder what they�re doing here� Harry
thought to his wife as the distinguished-looking woman approached them.

�She�s here as witness, I think, and he�s her bodyguard for the evening
maybe? My gut�s telling me that this sort of thing may very well need a
Ministry witness, since we�re essentially performing a blood-based ritual; all
of which are controlled by the Ministry.�

Harry didn�t bother to ask
whether she had read that somewhere. He could see the eidetic
memory of the page in her thoughts. What amazed Harry was how quickly she was
able to call the image forward and then �process� it for him. Sometimes being
in her mind was like being inside a vastly powerful, almost all-knowing
computer, Harry mused to himself, as he thought about just how incredible
Hermione was.

�Let�s see what she does, love. I hope she�s
here on friendly terms. I�d hate to have to let Knight out and use her as a
scratching post or something.�

Amelia Bones, however, had no sinister ulterior
motives and was quick to extend her hand in greeting to both of them. �Lord and
Lady Potter, good evening. Albus didn�t tell me that both of you would be here.
I was under the impression that only you, Lady Potter, would be here, as Rowena
Granger is your paternal grandmother.�

Hermione drew herself up to her full height; silently
wishing that she had worn the 6 cm. silver stiletto pumps instead of her casual
leather walking shoes and could look the head of the MLE directly in the eye,
instead of having to look up at her. Hermione took the proffered hand. �Lady
Bones, it is indeed a pleasure to see you again. I�m sorry that it had to be
for such an occasion, but we take what life gives us, I�m afraid.� Now � as to why Harry is present. He is my
husband and my friend and if that isn�t enough, he is also Lord Potter and Lord
Black. I have the full protection of both houses if something goes awry
tonight. I know that nothing will, but you should know than in any case, this
is private, family business and is therefore beyond the reach of the Ministry.�

�Amelia Bones
was somewhat consternated by that; given the enormous weight in the Wizengamot
that Harry could bring to bear should it become necessary. However, she felt
that way about everyone and didn�t, in her own mind, single the Lady Potter out
simply because she was more famous than anyone else the wizarding world, save
her own husband. No one, she had always believed, should be above the law.
Hermione�s receipt of the full protection of two of the oldest of all
patriarchal lines in Great
Britain would probably be enough to stymie
any prosecution that Amelia might bring to bear until the end of time. Oh well, she thought.

Turning to Harry, the MLE chief smiled what she hoped
was her warmest and most ingratiating smile. �Lord Potter, it is good to see
you again. I apologize if it seemed that I didn�t want you here or didn�t think
you had the right to be here. You, of course, are right to protect your wife
and keep here safe from all harm.�

Harry�s smile was thin and his voice,
forced. �She has always had my protection, Lady Bones. Ever since I first met
her�� Harry�s voice trailed off, as the image of Hermione cowering in the
first-floor girl�s loo; hiding from the mountain troll that Prof. Quirrell had
let into the school.� Hermione saw what
Harry saw in that moment and could feel the memory of Harry�s terror that
something might happen to her. She had never seen the memory from his
perspective before and as she watched in play out, during the few half-seconds
that it takes memories to form and then run their course, she fell in love with
her husband all over again for having such incredible bravery and love for her.

Hermione�s very slight squeezing
of his hand brought him out of his very momentary reverie and made him focus on
Amelia Bones. �I�m sorry, Lady Bones. Your statement brought back a memory for
a moment and I became distracted. I apologize for my rudeness.�

The Head of the MLE waved it off
and said, perhaps somewhat overly politely, �I am not in the least offended,
Lord Potter. If you have done half the things during your young life that
you�ve been rumored to do, then it�s no wonder that you have many memories that
could be distracting.�

�I thank you, Lady Bones. Please
do not put too much stock in the things you�ve heard. I�m sure that 99% of them
are wrong or at least wildly inaccurate.�

A wistful look crossed the older
woman�s face for a moment and it set her lips in a thin, but not harsh line
which more or less gave her a thoughtful look. �You wouldn�t consider clearing
up any discrepancies would you, Lord Potter? I�m sure that there are many people
who might be very interested in the things that you�ve seen and done.�

�I�m sorry, Lady Bones, but no,
neither I nor my wife have any interest in sharing our experiences with anyone
who doesn�t need to know or who wasn�t present for the episode in question.�

A more determined look came to the
Head Auror�s eyes and the tall, black man behind her stepped over to stand by
her side as she spoke. �But Lord Potter, surely you can see the value of
letting people know the things you and your bride have done, so that we can all
learn from them.�

All in all, it was a reasonably
stupid thing to say, but once the kneazle was out of the bag, there was no
pulling it back. She realized that she had seriously overstepped herself the
moment that she felt Harry�s magic gathering like a mighty, terrible storm
around him. She had been warned, of course, about how powerful the Lord Potter
was, but she hadn�t really believed it. He looked at her and all around him; an
almost-visible corona began to form. It distorted the air and pushed back at
her magic; testing its limits � as if it was �tasting� it or probing it for
weakness.

Hermione saw that the black Auror
was about to reach for his wand and immediately stepped in front of Harry; interposing
herself between him and the two adults. Placing a warm hand on his chest, she
looked up into his eyes. �Harry, please!
Control your magic. We don�t want her poking around our lives!� and just
like that, the gathered magic dissipated like a spring shower.

The entire exchange was not unnoticed
by the Headmaster or the Headmistress-designate. Both had turned the moment
that Harry�s magic had gathered and both watched as Hermione put herself
between Harry and the foolish Head Auror and somehow made Harry�s wild magic go
away as quickly as it gathered. Neither had time, however, to approach the Head
Boy and Girl about the incident because the moment that they thought to do so,
the Chapel�s heavy oak doors opened once again and the school�s magnificently
talented and dedicated healer walked in, followed by Rowena Granger. Her
slightly graying hair pulled back, she was dressed in a simple, long cotton
robe and had sandals on her feet. The earrings which Hermione had gotten used
to seeing on her were absent, as was the necklace which her son had given her
as a gift.

A small gasp escaped Hermione�s
lips and she almost reflexively pushed herself into her husbands� arms as she
saw the magical manicals that bound her grandmothers� wrists. It suddenly made
sense that the Head Auror was present, as only someone from the MLE could
remove the binders � as they were keyed only and specifically to a ring that
each Auror wore on his or her right hand.�
No one else could remove the magical handcuffs and trying to do so
without proper authority would only result in the death of the person wearing
them. That the cost of removing them illegally was death was an unfortunate but
necessary one which discouraged criminals from running and made prisoners more
pliant.

Once Rowena was safely inside the
Chapel and then inside the magical pentagram which had been inscribed on the
Chapel�s stone floor, Madame Bones stepped forward and touched her wand-tip and
her ring to the magical binders and they fell away. For a moment, there was a
crazed look in her eyes and it was obvious to both Harry and Hermione that she
was trying to think of places to run to; where she would be �safe�.� It was a symptom that Madame Pomfrey had
warned them was coming and indicated how far Hermione�s grandmother had slipped
mentally. It made Hermione realize that they were right in helping her to
putting off the burden she was carrying. No one deserved to be in permanent
pain, she thought.

�No, they don�t, love. Let�s get this done. There�s no point in
prolonging her suffering.�

�You�re right, love. She seems to recognize me though. I saw a flicker
in her eyes a moment ago and it looked to me like she understood that we�re
here for her.�

Hermione nodded to Dumbledore and
the elder wizard stepped into the pentagram with his wand drawn. Hermione
pulled her wand and copied her Headmasters� motions. Harry stepped forward
barehanded and, looking around, suddenly felt naked without his original wand.
It had always been a very reassuring thing to hold that wand tightly in his
hand, even if he didn�t really need it now.

A flicker of real cognition shown
in Rowena Grangers� eyes as the Headmaster summoned the soul jar to his hand
and for the first time, there was a look of sadness as well.

�Rowena Marie Granger nee Bell, you have asked us to
perform the Sanguine Veneficus
ritual. Do you consent to this ritual?

�Yes�, she said in a tone just
above the level of the quietist whisper. The Headmaster continued:� �Do you understand that by undergoing this
ritual, you will be stripped, forever, of your magic, and of all of your
memories relating to magic?�

Rowena started to mouth the word
�yes�, but her response was limited to a simple nod of the head. �Do you
consent to this ritual freely and without pressure from any person?�

�Yes, I do Albus. I do.�

�Do you consent to having your
thoughts regarding this matter examined, so that we can make sure you have not
been pressured by anything or anyone?�

Again, Rowena Granger nodded. The
ritual was proceeding as she had been told it would, and the questions were all
exactly worded as she had been told they would be, so that she didn�t get
confused or disturbed by anything unnecessary. She pushed all of the thoughts
that were relevant to the moment towards the front of her mind and then pushed
a mental probe back at the Headmaster, letting him know that she was ready for
his inspection.�

Dumbledore�s Legilimency
probe was gentle, but direct and it bypassed any shields she might have had up
and found the memories and the trauma associated them. It took almost no time
at all for him to reach her thoughts and find the memories most relevant to her
consent. What he could not have expected was the truth of the enormous pain and
self-loathing which had brought her to the pentagram and to the moment of final
sacrifice. Any lesser wizard would have been overwhelmed by the power that was
still resonant in the retired Auror � but Albus Dumbledore was not, he might
humbly admit, a �lesser wizard�.� It took
a moment, but the Headmaster was able to withdraw cleanly from her thoughts.
Stepping out of the inscribed pentagram, he moved quickly to transfer the
memories to the portable pensieve that he had brought with him for just that
purpose and then turned to invite the Lady Bones to view the memories.

It took not quite two minutes for
Amelia Bones to view the memories and be convinced that the sacrifice � and
hence the blood ritual itself � was necessary, proper, and in keeping with
Ministry for Magic regulations. The scroll which Minerva McGonagall had carried
in her robes� inside pocket � the one that gave them permission, along with
Harry and Hermione Potter, to do the ritual - was signed quickly and then
tucked away for safe keeping.

Stepping into the pentagram once
again, the Headmaster nodded to his students and then to McGonagall. �We will
do this together. Remember, you must maintain your control until the last,
because if you don�t, the ritual will fail.� Neither Hermione nor Harry wanted
to contemplate a failed ritual. The person making the sacrifice had never
survived in any of the previously documented instances of the rituals� use.
They silently resolved to each other to make certain that this one worked. They
owed it to Hermione�s father and to his family, to make sure.

Hermione could not help herself.
She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around her grandmother. Harry could not
hear what she said, but he knew what she felt, and so he comforted her as she
said her last goodbyes to the grandmother she had known for not nearly long
enough.

Eventually, Hermione separated
herself from her grandmother; stepped back two steps, and took Harry�s free
hand in hers. Dumbledore looked down at her with sad understanding in his eyes
and then said �begin�.

Hermione, Harry, the Headmaster,
and the Headmistress began to chant the charm: �Ex sanguine veneficus, ut sanguine sterilis��. It had to be said
seven times; clearly and distinctly, and had to be done with the same focus as
the Patronus charm. A happy memory
was not necessary, but the charm had to be done with clear intent. It could not
ever be used as punishment, nor could it be used accidentally. Hermione chose
to use her wand, in order to better focus her intent, while Harry had had to
lay his free hand on Rowena and focus his magic that way.

By the third repetition, a wavery
strand of magic had begun to leave the Auror�s body and flow directly into the
soul jar. It was more solid than pipe smoke, but less so than a really ripping
bonfire. By the forth repetition, the magic leaving her had become a steady,
thick stream. It had become harder to maintain her concentration, Hermione
found, as her grandmother�s pain and sadness became more obvious.

By the sixth repetition, it had
become a struggle to maintain focus and the steady stream of magic had slowed
down to a small, meandering rivulet. Small beads of sweat had risen on the
Headmasters� forehead and on Harry�s, while McGonagall had gone white and was
beginning to look frailer than her years belied and Harry could feel that Hermione
was clearly struggling to maintain her focus. The Star of Morgana had begun to
glow at her breast � which was a fact missed by all those present in the room,
save for the one person who might have to clean up the mess afterwards.

The last repetition was agony. A
fiery pain erupted in Harry�s chest, which nearly staggered him, while
Hermione�s throat felt like knives were being turned in as she spoke the
enchantment. Neither had the presence of mind to check the Headmaster or
Headmistress-designate. The Lady Bones looked at the two wizards and two
witches performing the charm in horror and might have been inclined to try to
stop the ritual if she knew what it was doing to their magical reserves.

When the last word was spoken, the
lid clamped down on the soul jar, just as Stonenasher had promised, and the two
couples collapsed where they had stood.

Amelia Bones barely kept herself
from screaming as she saw the most powerful witches and wizards in all of Europe fall to the ground. Poppy Pomfrey put a hand on
the MLE Heads� arm to calm her. �It�s done, Amelia. They�ve done it. I�d never
have believed it if I hadn�t seen it. Fawkes!�

The beautiful, incredibly
intelligent phoenix instantly appeared on the matronly woman�s arm. �Good,
you�re here, Fawkes. Can you get these four to the hospital wing? �You know where they go. I�ll be there in a
second. The Phoenix�s
eyes whirled a deep red.

�Oh stop, Fawkes. You know nothing
will ever happen to him in my care. He�s just exhausted. We�ll have him back up
and around in two days.�� Bobbing her
head once, the Phoenix
spread his wings over the four and disappeared.

Amelia grabbed the Healer and spun
her around. �What about her?� she said, pointing to the woman kneeling on the
floor.

�She has to be obliviated. Only
the Headmaster or the Head of the Unspeakables has the power and skill to do it
right. I was going to knock her out and put her in stasis until Albus is
ready.�

Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped
forward and looked at the Healer. �What about that?� he said, pointing at the
soul jar.

�Not ours to worry about. Seal the
room. Make it imperturbable and ward it against any entry, save for the
Headmaster or Headmistress. They�ll take it from there once they�re up and
around.�

The man stroked his goatee for a
moment and then looked around. �Makes sense. There�s no one here at the school
who can break the charms if I place them? No other Harry Potters wandering
around?�

Poppy thought about that for a
second and then shook her head. �Well, maybe. I�m not sure, but I think that
Ron Weasley may be coming into his own and he might have the power to break it,
if he had a mind to do so. But I�m pretty sure Ron doesn�t even know that the
Chapel exists, so he�d not be inclined to come looking for it in the first
place.�

Grunting his satisfaction, he
looked at his boss. �Ready, Amelia?�

�I think so, Kingsley. We�ll lock
it up together and leave it for Albus to open once he�s feeling ready.�

�Very good then, Amelia. I�ll take
care of Rowena and I�ll see you once Albus calls you in a couple of days.�

With that, the two senior
law-enforcement officers walked out of the Chapel and waited for the Healer to
stun the sacrificant
and bring her out. It took just a moment for the renowned healer to exit the
sanctuary with her charge gently floating in mid-air in front of her.

Amelia Bones shook her head and then pointed
at the door � which earned another grunt of understanding from the Head of the
Hit-wizards. Drawing their wands, each silently inscribed a series of complex
movements in mid-air. As she moved down the hall, Poppy Pomfrey could feel the
backwash from the magic that had just been performed. It gave her a good
feeling to know that the first half of the plan to restore the Longbottoms was
complete, but she wondered if she should feel guilty about feeling relieved
that she would no longer hear the amazing woman crying and beating her fists
against the padded walls.

Poppy realized, as she turned to head up the
first flight of stairs, that she�d have to find a new place to pray for a while
� at least until the Chapel was re-opened. She wondered as she walked whether
anyone from the Order of the Phoenix, other than Kingsley and Remus Lupin, was
left to appreciate that a chapter was about to be opened and then re-closed.

[1]� Author's
note: An endowment is usually a dedicated, separate, discrete
account set up to handle the payment of property taxes and / or operating
expenses for large estates, tracks of undeveloped property, or wildlife areas.
These are often, but not exclusively, done by non-profit charitable organizations
in the U.S., U.K, and other first-world countries in order to protect the
property against the possibility of taxes being levied on otherwise tax-exempt
properties by governments that are in financial difficulty.
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Vox Corporis: Rebirth