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

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
SPECIAL
THANKS to my beta reader Aurabolt!

Standard
disclaimers apply.

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Chapter Six � Across the Silent Chasm

In which Harry and Ron
seek penance while Hermione finds respite from her pain in latte, shopping and
a billionaire�s sweet attentions.

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Tomorrow
was not best; or at least it didn�t
start that way.

By
the time Harry woke, Hermione was gone.
She had left her bedroom door open, everything inside it neat and
perfect just like she was. There were no
clatter of pans from the kitchen and she wasn�t in the library either.

She
was out of the house, and it was only nine in the morning; on a Sunday, too!

It
occurred to Harry that she was that pissed
at them; to leave the house so early to avoid them, even when she went to bed
so late.

When
he got to the ground floor, he found Ron in the viewing room, snoring on the
couch in front of the open television.
Harry was surprised Ron found the gumption to turn it on. He supposed sleeplessness can do that.

Harry
certainly hadn�t gotten that much sleep.
He kept seeing Hermione�s anger; kept hearing her wounded voice.

If she only knew why he had been so upset. If she only knew how jealous he was, or how
protective Ron was being; maybe she wouldn�t be so angry; maybe she�d
understand.

He
woke up Ron, telling him Hermione had left the house.

Ron�s
scrunched up morning face turned up at him from the couch. �She hates us, doesn�t she?�

�I s�pose.�

�Bugger
all� this Athanasius is going to abso-bloody-lutely
get it from me when this is over.�

Harry
had to smile at that. �So you do believe
me when I say there�s something wrong with him?�

�I
believe you now,� said Ron, pushing
himself from the couch. �She was furious
at you, Harry. That�s just unnatural.�

Harry
realized that Ron did indeed mean to say that if Hermione had been furious with
Ron, that wouldn�t have been so out of the ordinary.

They
lumbered to the kitchen.

Crookshanks rose from the counter and hissed at them both
when Harry tried to pat him.

�Even
the cat knows we�re arseholes,� muttered Harry.

Crookshanks didn�t leave, fully expecting Harry to do
something to appease him. Harry fed him.

�What
do we do now?� asked Ron as he began making coffee.

�We
call her,� said Harry.

�Floo her?�

�No,
call her, on the telephone. If she
doesn�t pick up, we�ll leave a message.
I don�t know if it�ll get her to talk to us, but I know she�ll like it.�

�She
will?�

Harry
nodded, smiling wanly. �Saw her face
when she thought you were calling her.
Like a kid who got exactly what she wanted on Christmas.�

Ron
reddened, remembering. �That wasn�t me.�

�I
know. You prat.�

�Yeah, you and me both.
Wasn�t my idea to follow her last night.�

Harry
sighed, conceding it.

He
summoned his mobile telephone from his room.
It passed through his bedroom window and zipped through the kitchen
window quickly. He looked at Ron
pointedly. �I don�t hear you accio-ing, Ron.�

Rolling
his eyes, Ron did what he had to.

0000000000000000000000000

It
was maybe the sixth time Hermione listened to her phone ringing that day, and
she found it much to her satisfaction that it was either Harry or Ron
calling. She had finally gotten them to
use their mobiles.

She
stirred her iced latte with her straw, pushing around the cream that swirled
atop it. The goat-cheese panini on her canopied table remained untouched as she
thought about the last time she spoke (or yelled) at Harry and Ron and wondered
what they possibly had to say to her as they busied her mobile phone.

Leaning
back on her chair, she made sure shrunk package at her feet was close at hand
before she let her eyes rove to Muggle London. She watched the people walk by, totally
unaware of the magical world existing beyond theirs.

I would�ve been one of them, without
Hogwarts. I wouldn�t have known Harry
and Ron if I weren�t a witch.

And
that thought was just the tiny bit terrifying and unspeakably sad.

She
would still have her parents, likely, and while she�d probably do almost
anything to get them back, she wouldn�t exchange her life with Harry and Ron
for the world.

I love those two insensitive idiots, she
thought, half-glumly. And hex me, how they know it!

It
was a mixture of fondness and slight resentment; that they knew they had her
wrapped around their fingers.

In
fact, even in her anger, she had managed to find Harry a birthday present while
she moped in the muggle shopping district.

How pathetic, she thought, tapping her
wooden swizzle stick viciously against the rim of her tall coffee mug. She had been planning to buy a load of books,
instead she managed to find the one wizarding shop
among the muggle stores and bought a present for the
one responsible for her foul mood.

That�s just dandy of you, Hermione.

She
ate her panini.

Moments
later, her phone rang again, and when she ignored it, it buzzed seconds
later. Someone had left a message. It did the same thing again after a few
minutes had passed.

She
finally checked it. It was Harry and
Ron.

Humph.
Let�s see what Harry Bloody Potter has to say.

She
put the phone to her ear.

Harry�s
voice came clearly through. �Hermione,
please� just please pick up the phone��
He sighed, and it was filled with such dejection that she felt her heart
begin to melt instantly. �I�m sorry. I�m sorry I yelled at you. I�m sorry I said those things. I�m sorry I�I�m sorry I made you feel like
you weren�t special, or that someone like�like him can�t like you. He
should be so lucky that you like him back.
Ron and I� we�ve been terrible to you these last few months� years, maybe, haven�t we? We�ve neglected you� I�ve neglected you. And I
promised I�d take care of you, too. I
promised when you were� asleep.�

He still can�t talk about the coma, can he? she thought, a wave of warmth washing over her. He
can�t even say the word for it. Oh,
Harry�

He
went on, his tone repentant in every way.
�I was so afraid you�d� leave us then,
that I promised�I don�t know�God maybe, that if He let you live, I�d take such
good care of you; protect you� but I suppose I botched that one right
good. I�ll not try to make excuses for� any of my behavior last night, but I was protecting you, Hermione. This bloke you�re seeing�� His voice took on a slightly edged tone. �He knows you�re special. That�s why he wants you, but he doesn�t know how special you are to me and to Ron,
and I think he�s just a randy little fucker��

He
stopped, but Hermione was already slightly astonished by the profanities. Still, she couldn�t help but feel a bit endeared, too, bad words and all.

�S-Sorry. Just that�I
can�t�he�s a stranger to me, Hermione.
What the hell does he know? How
could he know any better when it comes to taking care of you? How can he be better at taking care of you
than Ron and I are? I just don�t want
you to get hurt. I worry about you even
if you think I don�t care. Just please�
please tell me you still think I�m your best friend. Please don�t be angry. Please talk to me.�

The
message ended.

Goodness, I have to be a major bitch not to forgive him after
that. But Lord, do I love him like an
idiot.

The
second message began in Ron�s embarrassed, grumbling way. �Whatever Harry said, that�s how I feel too,
Hermione. Really sorry� can you get back
here, already? Harry�s more worried than
mum ever was about all of us put together!�

Harry�s
�Ron!� came over the background and the message ended.

Hermione
couldn�t help but giggle, flipping her phone shut as she did so.

She
was going home. And she was going to
forgive her boys.

Protective. She
scoffed, but she was not entirely disapproving.
Must be all that testosterone,
Merlin bless �em.

She
decided, on her way home, that she would make brownies for them, as a peace
offering. She shopped for her
ingredients quickly enough and was on her way to one of the apparating
stations when she passed by a shoe store and saw the shoe of her dreams.

This
was, of course, the nth time she saw a �shoe of her dreams� and decided to make
it a �shoe of her reality.�

Laden
with packages, she pushed through the store doors. The ladies in the store eyed her
disapprovingly, unaccustomed to getting customers that carried grocery
bags. It was a fairly highbrow store
that definitely wasn�t impressed by her burgeois casual-chic canvas cut-offs and brown paper bags,
but she was determined to buy, and no one was going to intimidate her. Besides, she faced Voldemort
and lived; a store full of snobby ladies couldn�t scare her if they tried to,
all at once.

She
put down her belongings and swung her shawl over her like an absolute prima donna. She haughtily
pointed out half a dozen pairs of shoes, one of which was the one she wanted,
and it effectively sent everyone scurrying.

I may know what I want, but I�m not going to
make it easy for them, she thought snootily.

When
finally, all her selections were piled up before her, a shoe attendant appeared
and had the decency to assist her.

She
was beginning to have a wonderful time when from the corner of her eye she
noticed a commotion at the door. Half
the clerks in the store scuttled to attend to the newly arrived customer.

For
the most part, Hermione didn�t care. It
wouldn�t be a headline stopper if some actor or celebrity graced the boutique�s
threshold. This was a ridiculously
expensive store, after all.

She
was trying on her fourth shoe when her shoe attendant was tapped politely on
his shoulder by someone in a crisp, tailored suit.

�May
I, good sir?� asked the stranger to the attendant.

Hermione
looked up and saw Lysander, breathtakingly handsome
in his Muggle thousand pound suit. A flush instantly rose in her cheeks and her
spine tickled briefly.

�If
the madam is amenable,� said the attendant.

Lysander seemed amused, glancing at Hermione with a
wink. �Is the madam amendable?�

Her
stomach flip-flopped and she scolded herself inwardly for being a ditz. But always the picture of poise, she merely
shrugged nonchalantly. �Why not?�

Smiling,
the attendant rose and Lysander knelt on one knee
while he took her foot up gently upon the other.

His
hands cradled her heel delicately, careful not to overstep her boundaries and
he looked up at her with twinkling purple eyes.
�This is not the shoe you want, madam.�

And
it wasn�t. She smiled and pointed to the
perfect pair lying in a box of packaging tissue.

�Ah,
that�s more like it,� he said, reaching for it.

Delicately,
as if he were handling crystal, he removed the unwanted shoe from her foot to
slip on the beautiful stiletto concoction.
The shimmering blueness of the shoe was the perfect shade. He caressed the arch of her foot and the bend
of her ankle.

�You
like?� she asked, breathless.

His
eyes traveled from her foot upward. �Very much so.�

She
let the pleasant flutter in her stomach still before she rose to her feet and
walked on the pretty shoes. She posed
her feet as she looked in the mirror.

�Lovely,�
he said, looking her over.

She
cocked a smile at him, hand to her hip.
She felt flustered enough to have seen him there, and his oblique
compliments made her insides ripple with suppressed thrill, but she had learned
to hold her own in the worse of situations; this was a situation far from
bad. �And what a
coincidence, your being here. Are
you following me, Lysander?�

He
chuckled. �Like I�d
have the time.�

�Oh,
yes. How silly of me.� She wasn�t the least bit embarrassed. It was likely he hadn�t followed her, but possible that he had seen her and had
decided to make an impromptu appearance in the store. It made her feel the slightest bit empowered.

�I
was hoping to get my mother a scarf,� he explained without further
prompting. �She�s feeling a bit under
the weather. I thought a token would
delight her.�

Classy cover story, she thought
wryly. Expensive silk scarf, maybe, for a moody
mama. Nice touch.

She
shrugged. �I�m sure your mother will
feel better after she receives it.�

The
saleslady came over, holding out two flat boxes containing a scarf each.

Just as I thought, Hermione thought with
smug satisfaction.

The
lady showed them to Lysander.

He
turned to Hermione. �Tell me what you
think is prettier.�

She
arched an eyebrow pointedly before looking the scarves over. One was an exquisite silver and deep red with
tinges of gold and royal blue. The other
was a lemon yellowy with orange, red and green accents. The yellowy one was beautiful, though it
wasn�t her type of coloring. She wouldn�t
buy it for herself, but she would buy
it for her mother.

�The
yellow one,� she said with absolute certainty.

He
smiled. �The yellow one, it is.� He nodded to the saleslady.

The
lady left to pack his purchase.

�It
goes well with that bag,� said Hermione, pointing to a bright red Kelly. �Your mother might like that, too.� The bag cost a fortune, but if he was going
to lie to her, she was going to make him sweat it out a bit.

�And
so she might.� He nodded to a saleslady
who was watching their exchange with clear fascination.

A
large box was pulled out from a covered cabinet underneath. The contents of the box were shown to him and
he nodded, confirming that it contained the exact same bag on display.

Inwardly,
Hermione was half-impressed, half-scandalized.
I can�t believe he�s really going
to buy it! she thought. But I
suppose what costs a fortune to me is pocket change for him.

Soon
they were at the counter, her with her shoes and him with his outrageously
expensive PROPS.

When
she finished paying, she was mildly surprised to see that he furnished no card
or cash.

He
must have figured out what she was thinking, because he said, �Store credit.�

�Of course.� As much
as she knew about rich people�s store credit in fancy boutiques, it was still a
bit of a shock. She steeled her facial
expression and gathered her packages. Well, it was great fun while it lasted, but
I have two offenders to forgive. �I�ll
see you around, then?�

His
charmingly amused smile, when he realized that she wasn�t planning to spend the
rest of the day flirting with him, was devastating. �Is that a promise?�

She
flushed. She hadn�t exactly expected him
to say something like that. She thought
he would simply say farewell and good day.
He was apparently better at this than she thought.

�It�s
a possibility,� she managed with equal finesse.
��Twas charming to have
bumped into you, Lysander. I hope your mother feels better soon.�

�Thank
you, Hermione.�

The
sound of her name from his lips jolted her.
From him, it wasn�t merely her name; it was sweet golden honey ladled
with and cascading from a silver spoon.

He
took her hand and kissed it, the warmth of his lips spreading from her arm to
the rest of her body. She stifled a
shudder before she took her hand back.

The
magic was instantly gone, but his eyes upon her made her blush and think very
pleasant thoughts.

Turning
with what poise she could muster, she took the rest of her parcels and made to
leave. She realized instantly that
leaving the store with her grocery bags wasn�t all that sexy looking, but she
managed it with practiced dignity.
Goodness knows, after turning herself into a cat and having her teeth
grown out to beaver size, she had learned to endure the worse kinds of
humiliation.

It
occurred to her as she walked down the sidewalk that she had never given Lysander her phone number or her floo
designation, but there was hardly anything to worry about. She was certain he�d find out for himself if
he cared.

00000000000000000000000

Harry
heard the pert clap of an apparition from the viewing room and he looked at Ron
who sat beside him on the couch.

Ron
was asleep and Harry decided it would be better to meet with Hermione without
Ron�s emotional range of a teaspoon botching things up.

Crookshanks, who was contentedly purring beside him under
his light caresses perked up at the sound of his mistress�s arrival.

�You�re
glad she�s back too, aren�t you boy?� Harry whispered to the half-kneazle.

Crookshanks gave a small meow before hopping off the couch
to dart out of the viewing room.

Bracing
himself for the worse, Harry padded meekly to the living room and then to the
kitchen, where he could hear her clattering about.

Crookshanks was already rubbing circles around Hermione�s
calves as she waved her wand about with her newly bought groceries. There were a few more packages set in the far
corner on the floor.

She�s gone shopping. Good.
At least she�s in a better mood, thought Harry. He watched her for a few seconds, gauging his
chances. She certainly looked like she
was glowing, probably flushed from purchasing shoes. She looked lovely, anyway. Her cut-offs, flattering halter-top and
high-heels was feminine and becoming to her body-type. She must have seemed terribly sophisticated
with her shawl around her and everything.
He was just admiring the shape of her backside when she looked over her
shoulder at him and smiled.

Brilliant.

�Hullo,
Harry! I�m making brownies. I know you don�t like almonds so I�m using
walnuts. But I guarantee you�ll love the
icing.�

His
heart soared. She had forgiven
them! And such a sweet
peace offering too. She was going
to bake them brownies. This was what he
loved best about being best friends with a girl. Girls were such sweethearts; thoughtful and
tender. Where Ron
would be content to buy him a shot of firewhisky
(which wasn�t bad at all, but�), Hermione would bake brownies.

He
loved her that way.

�Hermione?�

�Hmm?�

�I�m
sorry.� He�d already said it on the phone,
but he wanted to be able to say it in person.

She
smiled, a blush rising in her cheeks. �I
know. And I�m�I�m sorry, too. I didn�t mean to push you and Ron away last
night� or lie about the invitation. I
was just so� well�� She took the apron and put it on.

His
brows knotted. �Hurt?� he said
softly.

She
smiled again, this time brightly enough to coax one from his
own lips. �Anyway, I�m over all that.
I swear, Harry. Sometimes, I
don�t know how you and Ron put up with me!�

Harry
hadn�t even thought about the invitation.
He was just glad she was talking to him again and he couldn�t bear to
think about how utterly abandoned they had made her feel that she felt she had
to lie to them just to prove she can do things on her own.

The
tragedy was he already knew how
independent she could be. Sometimes, he
wondered what he would do if Hermione woke up one day and realized that she
didn�t need them, the two blithering
idiots who talked about Quidditch all day, burped in
her presence and spilled beer on the viewing room carpet on rugby weekends.

�We
don�t put up with you,� Harry said. �Ron
and I�d be sodding lost without you. We�d be
wearing mismatched socks and we�d always be too banjaxed
to be of any use to anyone!�

She
giggled and it was a wonderful sound.

He
grinned. �We�d probably be sitting
around in our alans and
scratching ourselves��

She
laughed, shrieking in scandalized delight.
�Oh, shut it, you! Too much
information! Sit down, Potter. We�re
done with all that talk, aren�t we? So
we�ll move on to other important things!
Tell me about auror training. How�s Ginny?
Have you spoken to her yet?�

Harry
was glad they were working things out famously, but he didn�t think he could
take another Ginny-talk, and he really didn�t want to talk about Auror-training. He
wanted to talk about Hermione; he wanted to catch up on what she had been
doing. �I haven�t spoken to Ginny, but
I�ll have to get to that. Ron already
has my neck on the chopping board for it.�

She
laughed softly, cracking eggs mid-air into a bowl.

�But
Hermione, I want to know how you�ve been.
I want to hear all about you today.�

She
grinned as she arched an eyebrow, but she flushed too, and it looked like she
was glad he asked. �Alright
then. I was going to tell you and
Ron, but I suppose if I put it off any longer it would never get told; I got a
job at the Ministry.�

Harry
absolutely hadn�t seen it coming, but he was ecstatic for her. �Hermione, that�s wonderful!� He gave her a hug, squeezing her
affectionately. �You must be so proud!�

She
chuckled. �I am! And oh, Harry, guess where!�

There
were so many offices she was qualified for.
He could roll off a slew of Ministry positions and she�d be perfect for
every one of them, but the excitement in her eyes told of something
extraordinary. �Are you an Unspeakable?�

Hermione
laughed at this. �Merlin, but wouldn�t
that be exciting! But
no; not quite that mysterious.
However, the position is rather�shall we say�unspeakably important.�

He
couldn�t think what. He was too thrilled
for her. �The suspense is killing
me! Tell me already.�

Smiling
madly, she began mixing ingredients with circular motions of her wand. �I�m Assistant Interrogator to the Wizengamot Counsel�s Office. Harry, I�ll be prosecuting Death Eaters. I�ll be putting them in Azkaban!�

Harry
had heard about this obscure office in the annals of the Department of Magical
Law. It was headed by a couple of kooks
that made him feel rather queasy when he heard about them. He couldn�t help but wonder if they were
competent enough for the job, but with Hermione now there, he thought life
better already.

Hermione
in charge of prosecuting Death Eaters in the Wizengamot! It was brilliant! She was going to make sure every single one
of them paid for their crimes, and he had complete faith in her.

�This
is beyond phenomenal,� he said, still in a slight state of shock.

She
laughed again, obviously pleased with herself.

He
draped an arm over her shoulder, grinning ecstatically. �I wouldn�t trust anyone else with the
job. You deserve this and when Ron finds
out, it�ll blow his mind. And you know
the best part? We�ll only be a couple of
offices apart! We can go to lunch
together; go to work and leave for home together� we can interrogate criminals
together, too!�

She
seemed to think this hilarious. �Oh,
don�t be silly, Harry. That one we can�t do together! You run them through the gauntlet first
before I even get around to interviewing them, and I can only build a case against
them based on the evidence your
department provides, so you better do your job well, Potter! Makes mine easier.�

He
grinned. He wanted to kiss her, but he
didn�t suppose he�d be able to stop himself from going further, so he pulled
himself away, taking his seat at the table while he worked. �When do you start?�

�Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I really have to go on over to Hogwarts to
thank McGonagall for recommending me to the office. Heartcomb and
Archibald� do you know them?�

Harry
nodded.

She
went on, grinning. �Those two are the
oddest men I�ve met! But they seem to
think highly of McGonagall�s recommendations.
I don�t think they would�ve taken me without her telling them they
should. They weren�t very pleased with
the way I want to�err�change certain
laws.�

He
cocked a smile. He knew the entire
Ministry had been giving her a hard time because of the Elf Law Proposals she�d
been submitting, but he thoroughly admired her for sticking to her wands. In spite of the flack she had gotten for it,
she did not waver in the least, not even when she couldn�t get a job in the
Ministry because of it.

True Gryffindor if I ever saw one. What a woman.

�Well,
when you�re through with the Death Eaters and
the Ministry, they wouldn�t even know what hit �em!� he said.

She
giggled again. It was pleasant to
hear, and he realized that she really was thrilled with her job. He could now rest easy, knowing all his hard
work as an auror catching the bad guys won�t go to
waste in her capable hands.

She
told him about her first meeting with the oddball WizCOF
(�Care for a cough-drop?� asked Harry, to which he earned a sprinkling of
flour) and he laughed at the bizarre dialogue.
He could just imagine Hermione getting frustrated at the utter lack of
logic in her conversation with them.

The
entire time they talked and laughed, she was mixing the brownie batter, and
after she scraped the last of it in a baking pan, she popped the pan in the
oven and sat down, mixing bowl on hand.

�Best
part!� she cried, handing him his own plastic scraper while she ran hers down
the residue chocolate mix.

Harry
thought the entire thing perfect.

He
scraped his share of brownie batter, and while he looked at the sweet, chocolatey goodness of it, he realized, with a slight twist
in his stomach that there would be none of this if he never knew her; or if the
troll had managed to kill her; or if Dolohov�s curse
had succeeded; or if she never woke up from her coma.

If you lost her during any of those times,
you�d be dead.

The
magnitude of it all gripped him, and he felt a little lightheaded for it. He can�t ever lose her. He put his scraper back in the bowl.

Hermione
looked up and her eyes became concerned.
�Harry, what�s wrong?�

He
took her hand and pressed it to his heart.
�Everything you�ve ever done for me; everything you�ve been for me� it�s why I�m here now. It�s why I�m alive.�

�H-Harry��
Her voice was softly chiding, like she was scolding him, and she reddened at
the cheeks, embarrassed.

�I
think maybe I�d have been a goner first year if you and Ron weren�t there
beside me. You�ve both gotten me this
far. And I think if Dolohov
had done you in when we went to the Department of Mysteries��

She
shushed him. �You don�t�you don�t have
to talk about that.�

�Maybe
I should. I thought you were dead, and
then when it was all over and you were alive, nobody even explained to me what
happened to you. I couldn�t ask; I was
too afraid that the curse had done something terrible to you.�

�I�m
fine,� she told him, almost emphatically.
�Nothing very bad happened to me, Harry, so you can just stop feeling
guilty about that. Alright?�

He
smiled wanly. �And then Voldemort killed you.�

She
scowled, spatula held up in one hand and the other cupping the rim of a huge
mixing bowl. �I�m right here.�

And
she was. She looked like she was going
to curse all the brownies in the world with her eleven-inch flexi-plastic,
chocolate tip spatula from Baker-ware.
All things considered, it was quite funny.

He
sputtered into a laugh and she got the joke quickly. She shrieked when the batter threatened to
drip off the spatula and onto the floor.
She rushed to catch it with her mouth and tongue.

Harry
found himself watching her acrobatics with prurient fascination. He could hardly be blamed for it. There she was, a beautiful woman with her
plump lips and tongue and there was chocolate involved. What else was there to think about? And now Hermione had some of that chocolate
on the corner of her lip.

Sweet Merlin, the torment! He wanted desperately to clean that spot
off in the best way he knew how, but that would be the end of all things
platonic.

She
grinned. �What?�

He
pointed to the corner of his own lip before pointing to hers. �You have�umm�chocolate.�

�Oh, my!� She giggled, sticking her tongue out to lick
it off. �Mess I�ve made of myself,
haven�t I?�

�Never,�
he said, taking back his spatula.
�You�re never a mess. You�re
perfect, and you don�t even try.�

Her
giggling dwindled and she blushed. �Oh,
shut it, Potter, I�ve already forgiven you.
No need to kiss my arse.�

�I
mean it,� he said somewhat softly, blushing himself. �I think�I think anyone who ever likes you
should understand that, and appreciate it, so that they give you the respect
and love you deserve.�

She
quieted. �I�m� I�m not perfect,
Harry. And I don�t particularly have
unreasonable demands of�men. They�re
not exactly lining up at my door, you know.�

He
frowned. Is that what she felt? That she had to settle because there were so
few who seemed to want her? She had it
all wrong, then! Honestly, did she think
so little of herself? �Hermione, the
only reason they�re not lining up at your door is that there are very few men
who would have the guts, or the nerve, to think themselves
worthy of asking you out. Lord knows�
Neville would�ve asked you out if he wasn�t so afraid you�d take house points
from Gryffindor, and there were others in Hogwarts who were stupid enough to
talk to me about how best to ask you out.�

She
seemed utterly surprised by this.
�You�re joking.�

�No,
I�m not. I don�t even know how many
shit-for-brains went to Ron for help.�

�That
can�t be right, Harry. I didn�t get a
lot of invitations��

Harry
sniffed. Maybe
because Ron and I were less than helpful.

�Well,
I don�t know why. Probably
lost their balls, or something.� Which was actually quite true. Harry didn�t feel the least bit guilty. If any of these boys had had the slightest
bit of gumption; the slightest bit of spine; and if their intentions were true,
they would�ve asked Hermione out anyway.
As it turned out, they were all bloody cowards, Gryffindor or not. And then something clicked in what she
said. �Wait, didn�t get a lot, you say? You mean some actually�� got away from us?

She
began to scowl and he realized what he was saying.

�What
I mean to say is, some guys actually gathered the bulloks
to��

�Harry!�

�Sorry!
But who were they? Just
curious, really.� So that next
time I see them�

She
shot him a suspicious look before replying.
�Oh, just a few, really��

�Go
on, then.�

Hermione
shrugged awkwardly. �Lee Jordan��

Harry�s
jaw dropped. �Lee! He�s practically ten years older than
you! When did he ask you? He was gone by the time we got to sixth
year!�

Hermione
shot him a reproachful glare. �He�s
barely two years older than me, Harry, and I did happen to
like Lee. He asked me out after he left
Hogwarts and I think I would have liked to go out with him some more, but there
were more pressing matters then� so I couldn�t give him a second date when he
asked��

Harry wondered if Lee happened to be the one
who �showed� Hermione what �love looked like�.
It seemed unlikely, since by Hermione�s narration, they only went out
once, but then again, love could take as long as forever to happen yet in some
cases happen in a second.

�Then,� said Hermione, �there was Justin��

�Finch-Fletchley?�

�Yes, but he had such a lame pick-up
line� I didn�t go out with him.�

�How lame?�

�Oh, he went on about how we were both petrified
by the �basilisks�, as if there was more than one, and how we�re both �mudbloods� like it was some sort of thing we could joke
about. He also bragged about being down
for Eton before he found out he was going to
Hogwarts; as if I should be impressed.�

�What a moron.�

�And then there was Ernie McMillan��

Harry scowled. �I knew
it! I knew he would try something,
being Head Boy and all that!�

�Oh,
give him some credit. He stuck up for
you a lot during your worse times, and he joined the D.A. just to prove he
believed in what he was saying. You
haven�t forgotten, have you?�

Harry
muttered that he hadn�t. And then a
thought came to him, which made him slightly queasy. �You didn�t�I mean to say�you had your
private quarters as Head Boy and Head Girl� you don�t have to tell me,
though! Just�erm��

She
frowned. �Oh,
honestly!� She got up from her chair, gathering the bowls and spatulas
to dump them in the sink.

So,
what does that mean? Did she, or didn�t
she? Not that it mattered all that
much, but Ernie McMillan? He was a good
chap, and all, but really, she could�ve done so much better. McMillan, for all his virtues, was almost
as annoying as Percy Weasley, except Ernie was even
more boring as far as personalities went.
At least Percy was interesting enough to be the butt of Fred and
George�s jokes. Then again, maybe that
had more to do with Fred and George than Percy.

Regardless,
Harry might have felt better if he knew Lee Jordan had been her first
time. At least Lee Jordan looked like
he�d give her a good time in the sack.
Then again, he didn�t know if Ernie McMillian
even got as far as snogging her.

Hermione
would, of course, strangle him if she knew what he was thinking.

Suffice
it to say, none of those mentioned had approached Harry for advice with regard
to Hermione. Apparently, they had more
nerve than all the others.

He
already knew what he was going to say to Ernie McMillan when next they saw each
other, but Lee Jordan was going to be a problem. Harry had liked Lee Jordan, and he was Fred
and George�s friend. He would have to
approach the matter delicately�and then kick the stuffing out of Lee.

�That
look on your face frightens me, Potter,� she said in a warning tone.

Harry
blinked, mustering his best look of innocence.
�What? Why?�

She
stared at him a moment before she laughed.

They
were momentarily distracted by two unfamiliar owls tapping on the
windowpane. They were carrying a rather
large parcel together and Hermione immediately went to the window to relieve
them. She took the package, gave them
treats and sent them on their way.

Harry
eyed the package with sudden hostility.
It looked fancy. Too fancy, and
lately, that meant it could only come from one person.

He
observed Hermione�s reaction. She looked
absolutely perplexed.

�Who�s
it for?� he asked nonchalantly.

�For me.� She set the
box on the table.

�From whom?�

She
didn�t reply. She lifted the lid off the
box and paled immediately, before turning a bright red. As red�Harry observed�as the bag inside it. A silk scarf was tied to its strap and Harry
noticed Hermione giving it a particularly horrified look.

He
was becoming a bit concerned.

She
reddened. �I can�t believe he�� Her brows furrowed.

She
ripped the store-card from the box and rummaged through her purse for her
mobile. She dialed the number from the
card and waited, foot tapping impatiently.
A few seconds later, she spoke.
�Yes, this is Hermione Granger, I was in your store��
She stopped. �No, I don�t want
his number. I�m sending the bag and
the scarf back. N-No, there�s nothing wrong with the bag or
the scarf; they�re perfect, but I can�t�I can�t take this. I�m sending everything back.� She listened for a bit before crisply
saying, �I�m sending it back.� She
clipped her mobile shut. �Where�s Hedwig?�

He arched an eyebrow. �Up on the roof� problem?�

�No problem,� she muttered, grabbing the box
to head on up. �I just�I�m just so
mortified right now, is all. Lysander��

His eyes widened. �What�s he done to you? What did that bastard��

She seemed surprised. �N-Nothing horrible, Harry, just�� She paused
then sighed as she climbed the stairs, box in her arms. �I�ll explain in a bit.�

He accompanied her to the owlery and summoned both Hedwig and Pigwigeon. It was quite a task attaching the box to the
owls, and it tested Hermione�s temper in the extreme, but soon enough, she sent
the owls off to the Muggle-Post Service Center. It
was where packages from the Wizarding world that
needed to be sent to the Muggle world were
brought. Similarly, muggle
packages that needed to be sent to wizards came from the service center.

They
watched the owls go as a latent howler exploded in the howler bin.

�I
could be such ninny sometimes,� muttered Hermione, as if the explosion had
prompted her to say it.

Harry
arched an eyebrow. He crossed his arms
over his chest, turning his gaze to muggle London. �So, what�s the story with the bag and
scarf?�

She
didn�t reply immediately, and a single glance at her told him of her shame, but
after a moment�s silence, she chuckled.
�It�ll sound silly. You had to be
there to appreciate it.�

He
thought about it. �Try me.�

She
looked at him sheepishly before shoving her hands in the pockets of her
cut-offs. �Well I was shopping for
shoes.�

He
valiantly avoided not rolling his eyes and he could tell she was waiting for
him to. When he didn�t, she went on.

�It
was a rather ritzy store but this particular shoe was divine and I just
had to have it!�

His
eyebrow finally went arching up again, but he was grinning and she stifled a
laugh at the look on his face as she continued.

�Anyway,
Lysander walked into the store. I was quite surprised.�

�I
bet you were. Following you now, is he?�

She
smiled. �I don�t think so, Harry, but I
asked him outright if he was and he came up with some lame excuse about how he
wanted to buy a silk scarf for his mother because she wasn�t feeling well. Of course I knew he was lying, but it wasn�t
the kind of bad lie that would make me�you know�angry. So I figured I�d play along.�

They
were flirting, he thought indignantly, but he said nothing, listening
instead.

�I
helped him choose the scarf, and since I was feeling impish, I pointed out that
his mother would like the Kelly bag, too.
You know, sort of punish him for lying?
I thought I�d make him sweat a bit because of his cover story. I didn�t think he�d buy the bag for
real. The damn thing costs almost two
thousand pounds, Harry! I mean, bloody��

�Hell!�
he finished for her. And he meant
it, too. That bag was almost two
thousand pounds? And that man just
dropped the cash like it was change?
�Well, that�s just��

�Ridiculous! I know!
And I really didn�t think he was buying it for me, Harry. I swear!
But now that I think about it, why wouldn�t he think so?� The mortified look settled back in her gaze. �Obviously, his Mother Story was stupid, and
he knew I knew it! Damn it all to Voldemort, I made
him think I wanted that bag!�

Harry
blinked, astonished.

She
had turned a deep shade of red, wringing her hands in her adorable, anxious
way. She was looking around uncertainly,
as if she was trying to find something.
�It�s so mortifying! Now I�ve sent it all back and he�s
going to think I�m some sort of diva and that I�m silly and fastidious! But there�s no winning, is there? If I accepted that bag, he�s going to
think�he�s going to think I�d be willing to sleep
with him for it, or something!�

He
didn�t even know what fastidious meant, but he definitely felt like killing Lysander right now.
He frowned. �You didn�t do
anything, Hermione. It wasn�t your
fault. He had no right to send
that bag over because he thought he could buy your affection. I think you dealt with him right properly.�

Her
eyes widened at something and she looked up at him half-frightened, half
hopefully. �But what if I was acting
unconsciously��

�Don�t
be stupid. Unconsciously my arse! You�re not a
gold-digger and you don�t go around making men buy expensive things for
you. Get that ridiculous notion out of
your head.�

She
looked relieved, and his hatred of Lysander Athanasius was definitely
waking up monsters in his chest. He
hated the man for making Hermione feel this way. He hated Athanasius
for making Hermione doubt herself. And
he especially hated the fact that he had somehow made Hermione feel that this
was all her fault.

�I
can�t believe I let him�� She stopped, perhaps
deciding that what she was about to say wasn�t worth saying and turned to go
back into the house, muttering about shoving a bubotuber
down Lysander�s throat.

Harry
followed. �Let him what?�

She
looked over her shoulder at him, smiling apologetically. �Nothing. Listen, even if that thing in the boutique
hadn�t happened, I still wouldn�t have taken that bag. You know this, right?�

He
rolled his eyes. �Really,
Hermione, who knows you better than yourself?�

She
turned on the staircase, leaning against the railing as she grinned up at
him. �Who else!�

He
smirked, continuing to descend the stairs.
He tugged at a lock of her hair as he stepped past her. �That�s right, so you don�t need to be
explaining to me, Granger. Ron�s
right. Sometimes, you can be mental.�

She
laughed, pinching his shoulder from behind.
He complained, rushing down the stairs as she followed in hot
pursuit. She shrieked as he caught her
in his arms at the bottom of the stairs just when Ron emerged from the hallway
looking fresh from sleep.

�Something
smells chocolatey,� he said, his long nose raised in
the air.

�Hermione�s
making brownies,� replied Harry, chuckling as Hermione squirmed to get away
from his tickly embrace.

She
struggled and laughed, helpless. Her
petite, five-foot-six frame was no match for six feet of Auror-trained
muscle. �Leggo! Leggo or I swear,
Potter, I�ll step on you! I�ve got
stilettos!�

Ron
winced. �Ooh, Harry, better let her
go. Last time she threatened me with
heels, she accidentally did in my family jewels with her knee.�

�Not
my fault!� cried Hermione, grinning.

Harry
was having too much fun holding her to want to let her go, but he supposed he
didn�t want her doing in his family jewels� at least not in that way.

He
did release her and she collapsed on the ground, giggling and catching her
breath.

�You
boys�� she gasped �� will be the death of me.�

Ron
frowned. �What�d I do? I was just standing here!�

She
grinned, extending her hand out to Ron who hitched her to her feet. �Nice message on my phone, Ron: �Duhhhh, what
Harry said!� You
get a Troll for Emotional Range. Small improvement from
teaspoon.�

Harry
laughed. He knew Hermione would have
something to say about it.

Ron
scoffed. �That�s why Harry�s the hero
and I�m the sidekick.�

This
took the laugh out of Harry. �I�m not a
hero!�

�Of
course you are. Didn�t you get the
memo?�

Hermione
looked over her shoulder at them.
�Honestly, you�re both my
heroes so you can just shut it about all this hero-sidekick nonsense. Ron, I have something to tell you.�

�You�re
married. I knew it!�

Hermione
shot him a glare.

Harry,
knowing what it was Hermione had to say, rolled his eyes. �Oh, for heaven�s sake, just let the witch speak!�

�Thank you, Harry,� she said. �As I was saying� Ron, I got a job at the
Ministry.� She proceeded to tell him
about the WizCOF and what kind of work she would be
involved in.

It
took Ron a bit longer to find his senses and realize just what she was
saying. Seconds later he had her in his
arms, spinning her around the living room with her feet off the ground.

�Wicked!�
he cried as she laughed in his arms. �Those Death Eaters don�t stand a chance!�

She
grinned, leaning her elbow on Ron�s shoulder as he held her. �Oh, you think so, don�t you?�

�Know
so! Now let�s celebrate by eating your
brownies.� Ron easily turned her on the
side of his hip, carrying her like a rug.
She demanded to be put down, which he easily ignored.

Harry
chuckled, following behind Ron. It was
so much easier to pick on Hermione being the size she was, especially for Ron,
who was huge.

Ron
easily hefted her on the kitchen counter and left her there as she hissed and
scowled like Crookshanks. Ron�s primary concern was the brownies in the
oven.

�I swear, the abuse I get in this house!� she said, barely
managing to hold down her smile.

Harry�s
primary concern was, as always, her. He
leaned his hip against the counter beside her.
�Are we alright now? You still
love us both?�

She
smiled, tilting her head as she looked at him.
�Of course.
That was never the issue. The
question was whether I would ever speak to either of you again, and as you can
see, I�ve decided nagging you both is so much more vicious than giving you the
silent treatment.�

Harry
laughed. So did Ron.

She
reached out and gave Harry�s arm a gentle caress.

The
touch made him flush to his roots. He
wished she�d stop, or else he�d kiss her right there. She was close enough,
anyway, for him to do it in a second, but he supposed it wasn�t the sort of
thing he should be doing in front of Ron.
Whether Ron still liked Hermione or not, it would be
extremely awkward for him who had just recently graduated from having the
emotional range of a teaspoon to a troll.

He
must have projected some of his discomfort because her gaze dropped and she
pulled back her touch. He regretted her
withdrawal, but he took advantage of it, too, smiling at her as he moved to sit
at the kitchen table.

Ron
and Hermione began to bicker. On any
other day, Harry may have found it annoying, but on this day, it gave him a
welcome sense of normalcy.

For
a brief moment, he wondered if Lysander Athanasius was still going to be a problem.

He
decided rather quickly that if Athanasius persisted,
Harry wasn�t going to play nice anymore.
- 6
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- 8
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Hermione Full of Grace

Chapter Six � Across the Silent Chasm