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Coming Back, Part 2 – Reconnecting

Hermione found herself landing in a clearing, stumbling only slightly before regaining her balance.  She quickly took note of her surroundings.

It was warm.  Very warm.  The vegetation appeared to be tropical.  So far, everything matched Victoire’s description.  Nearby two wolves were lying in the sun, and they immediately perked up on her arrival.  Hermione initially tensed, but then she relaxed, recalling that part of her student’s tale.

One of the wolves got up and trotted away while the other sat up and watched her.  A guard and a messenger, she decided. 

Now she took the time to look around, spotting quite a few unusual magical plants, as well as rare nonmagical species not normally found in Britain, some of which were endangered.  She smiled as the thought crossed her mind that Neville Longbottom would have a field day here!  She caught a glimpse of a patch of fluxweed, and another of knotgrass, both of which she remembered fondly as being used in Polyjuice potion.  Then she smiled as she spotted the pale purple flowers of a dittany plant, the essence of which she’d put to use on more than one occasion to heal her boys’ injuries.

Suddenly there was a shimmer in the air before her, and a man appeared – a man somewhat taller than herself, deeply tanned, dark hair … and gorgeous green eyes.

“Harry!” she gasped.  “Is that really you?”

He was staring at her as well, and could only manage a whisper.  “Hermione.”  He took a step forward and opened his arms, and she promptly threw herself into them.

Seconds passed while they clung tightly to each other, neither having any intention of letting go, while they each recalled long ago memories of all the many hugs they’d shared.  After more than a minute without either loosening their grip, both began to chuckle.

“While this would be an enjoyable way to spend the day, I thought you might want to do some other things, too,” Harry quipped.  Smiling, they stepped back to regard each other.

Before him Harry beheld a beautiful woman who had taken the place of the remembered teen that had been on the verge of adulthood.  Her hair, while still long and curly, was more controlled instead of bushy, currently tied into a loose ponytail that fell down her back.  Her more womanly figure very neatly filled out the shorts and tank top she was wearing – it required a bit of an effort not to dwell too long on how well this particular outfit displayed her body.  His gaze traveled up past firm thighs, well shaped hips, a nicely indented waistline, and last but not least, some eye-catching cleavage.   Wow!  Hermione has developed some amazing curves!

For her part Hermione noted much more dramatic changes.  The boy who’d left seventeen years ago was now a man.  He’d matured in every way since she’d seen him last.  His hair was worn longer, his glasses were gone, he was lean and muscled, and moved with the confidence and grace of a predatory cat – and he was clad in only a well-worn pair of cargo shorts.  My goodness, Victoire was not kidding about him being a hunk!

She’d never been physically attracted to him while they were younger (it had been Ron’s long, lanky body that had made her heart flutter back then) but now … she fought to keep from shuddering as a wave of desire rolled across her body.  Oh my! 

More than anything this made her realize how much of his life she’d missed, and tears began to form in her eyes.  Harry noticed, prompting him to hug her again, more tenderly this time.

“I missed you so much!” she moaned.  “And I missed out on so much of your life.  Why did you stay away so long?”  Harry murmured soft apologies, giving her a squeeze of contrition.

“I knew I needed to grow up,” he tried to explain as he released her.  “So often I stood back and let you make decisions for me.  I had to learn to live my own life.”  His eyes sought hers, seeking understanding, and after a moment she nodded reluctantly.   

“I traveled everywhere, learned so much,” he continued.  “There were many times where I thought about how much Hermione would love this, thought about asking you to join me on one of my journeys.  But by then I figured you had your own life with Ron, and it wouldn’t be fair to him or you.  And it wouldn’t be the same any more with three of us.”

Hermione realized the point he was making.  When two thirds of a trio pair up the other is left out.  “So, if you’d known I was single?” she inquired in a low, hopeful voice.  Harry nodded emphatically.

“I’m sorry.  I just assumed…”

Hermione embraced him again, letting her tears dampen his warm chest where her head rested so comfortably.  Finally she found her voice again.  “Well, there’s nothing to be gained by regretting mistakes of the past,” she declared.  “I’m here now.”

Harry grinned, relieved that they’d dealt so well with that potentially touchy topic.  “Let me show you around.”  Without further ceremony he apparated them to the top of a nearby mountain.

Hermione gasped at the spectacular view.  “Where are we, anyway?” she inquired breathlessly.

“A magical valley in Wales,” Harry responded.  “That’s a secret, by the way.  But I’ve made lots of changes.  I found this place about ten years ago, and have been creating a magical wildlife preserve.”

He was interrupted by a trumpeting sound drifting up from below.  Hermione’s eyes widened.  “Is that what I think it is?” she demanded.

Harry nodded excitedly.  “Yep.  An erumpent.” He began to run through a list of magical creatures he had collected.

Hermione could only shake her head in amazement.  “Luna would love this place,” she murmured half out loud.

Harry grinned again.  “She does.”

Hermione jerked her head back in shock.  “Why didn’t she ever tell me?” she protested.

Harry held out his hands in a placating gesture.  “She can’t; she’s under a magical oath.  She can write about the creatures she sees here, but not where ‘here’ is.  She found it five years ago, and comes here every summer to study another magical species.  She even brought in the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at his presumed teasing and huffed.  “You know very well there’s no such thing,” she chided. 

Harry only grinned again.  “Want to see one?”  He wrapped his arm around her waist and a second later they popped up in other spot, this one containing an entirely different sort of vegetation than the first.

“So, where is it?” Hermione queried, looking around.

“It’s invisible right now,” he replied.  Hermione shot him another well-remembered look of skepticism.  “Just sit here quietly,” he insisted.  “They only show themselves when they feel it’s safe.”  She shrugged and settled herself on the ground next to him.

As soon as she became still she began to feel magic well up around her, and immediately snuggled closer to Harry.  It was a feeling of complete trust and contentment.  She quickly deduced that it was some sort of magical effect he was creating, but on the other hand she’d always trusted him completely, so it wasn’t at all a foreign sensation for her.

“There’s one just ahead of us,” he murmured softly.

“How can you tell?” she protested.

“Shhh.  I’ll explain later,” he promised.  “For right now you need to project an image of being non-threatening.”  Hermione relaxed and leaned her head onto his shoulder, feeling his arm wrap around her own.  Even if this alleged creature never appeared, this was not an unpleasant way to spend some time. 

She marveled at how the two of them had regained their closeness so quickly.  In fact, it seemed they were being even more physical with each other than they had been before.  It was something of an effort to restrain herself from touching him even more.  If they’d still been teenagers, she would have put it down to raging hormones, but they were both in their thirties now!

Just then, a short distance away, a creature gradually faded into view.  It was impossible to describe.  It could be considered part miniature rhinoceros, and part elephant, but it had fur, and claws, and other parts that didn’t seem like they should go together on the same animal.

“Luna is still trying to figure out if it’s male or female or both,” Harry whispered into her ear.  “Her goal is to get them to breed.”

The snorkack eyed them carefully, then wandered away, occasionally digging its small misshapen horn into the ground.  Hermione continued to watch in fascination, while inwardly conceding that she needed to reevaluate some long held beliefs.

“Oh, let me show you something else,” Harry blurted out.  He popped them away again, this time to a dark, forbidding place.  “Have you ever seen The Princess Bride?” he asked eagerly.

Hermione nodded absently as she examined their new surroundings.  “Yes, I saw the movie and read the book.  Why?”  Suddenly she whirled to stare at him.  “You’re kidding!”

Harry grinned again.  “Nope.”  He swept his arm in wide gesture.  This … is a Fire Swamp.”

While Hermione stood there openmouthed, a jet of flame burst out of the ground a few feet away, startling her into flinging an arm around Harry’s waist.  He responded in kind, drawing her into his side, and while neither mentioned it aloud, the action generated very nice warm fuzzy feelings inside each of them. 

Just as she was about to ask about the ROUS, she spotted first one, then a few more ugly creatures creeping up around them, and knew without being told exactly what they were.  But as she moved her hand to her wand in its holster on her hip, she was surprised once more. 

In the blink of an eye Harry turned into a panther, let loose a fierce roar, and the rodents promptly scattered and fled.  Just as quickly, he changed back again and returned to her side.  Spotting her wide-eyed expression of astonishment he shrugged nonchalantly.  “Didn’t Tori tell you I was an animagus?”

Hermione shot him a look of mock exasperation.  “Yes, she did, but it’s still something that takes some getting used to,” she grumbled.  “And why didn’t you ever think to mention that yourself, in one of your annual letters?”

He just shrugged, and gave her another grin.  “I wanted it to be a surprise,” he claimed.

By now Hermione had calmed down, but she soon found herself shivering as the forbidding nature of the place began to reassert itself.  “Let’s leave,” she suggested.

Harry nodded, and she caught a more serious, caring expression on his face as he replied simply,  “As you wish.”

Hermione’s eyes widened again as they disapparated.  Did he mean it that way?

Harry continued their tour into the early afternoon, popping them to other locations of varying climate and vegetation, each of them habitat for different creatures.  In addition to the erumpents, some of the more impressive animals included colonies of hippogriffs, three types of winged horses including thestrals, unicorns, auguries, and many other smaller magical creatures.  Harry was particularly proud of the griffin and the demiguise.

The last place he took her to was jungle-like with trees and plant species native to South American rainforests.  She waited for a minute while he looked around, then was startled to hear him hissing.  It took her a moment to realize he was speaking parseltongue, and then she spotted the longest snake she’d ever seen uncurling itself from under a bush.

It didn’t seem particularly magical, and as she worked up the courage to look more closely, it appeared to be a boa constrictor, extremely large for that species, and therefore presumably rather old.  Harry seemed to be carrying on a conversation with it.  After a few exchanges it turned to look at her and nodded a greeting, then slowly coiled itself up into the bush again.

An idea as to its identity suddenly came to her.  “Harry … is that …?”

He turned to her and grinned.  “My old buddy from the zoo,” he confirmed.  “I remembered that he told me he always wanted to see Brazil, so this is the next best thing.  I bought him from the zoo a few years ago when they decided he was getting too big to keep.”  He leaned forward and lowered his voice conspiratorially.  “I might have helped them come to that conclusion just a little.  He’s near the end of his lifespan now, and doesn’t move around too much.  I try to come to see him once a week or so to make sure he’s had something to eat.”

Hermione was impressed with his thoughtfulness, as well as his loyalty, and told him so.  He just shrugged it off, which she remembered fondly was the same way he’d usually responded to praise when he was younger.  Some things never changed, she decided as she gave him an affectionate hug.

Harry decided to finish the tour at the pool with the waterfall that she recognized from Victoire’s tale.  It was indeed a breathtaking location right out of a tropical fantasy.

“So, is this the pond I heard so much about?” she asked innocently.  Harry nodded with a smile.

“Yep, it’s one of my favorite spots to relax,” he informed her.  “It’s really refreshing.”

“You know, Miss Weasley told me that I should bring a swimsuit bottom along,” Hermione revealed.  “I wonder why?” she added teasingly.

To her satisfaction, Harry promptly turned bright red.  He stammered something about Miss Weasley being a very attractive young lady while it was now his companion’s turn to grin.  With an effort he recovered his poise, and attempted to turn the tables.

“And did you take her advice?” he inquired challengingly.  But to his surprise, Hermione merely returned him an enigmatic smile, rather than becoming embarrassed herself.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” she replied coyly.

“Uhhh … OK … I suppose we should move on then,” he stammered.  Without thinking he offered her his hand and she took it, and he started toward his cave.  While they made their way there he found his head awhirl with unexpected thoughts.  What’s going on here?  We’re holding hands.  Hugging.  And are we both flirting with each other?  What’s going on?

As they walked along, Hermione interrupted these disturbing (but not in a bad way) musings by returning to a previous topic, inquiring about Ted and Victoire and the whole secrecy issue.

“Oh, I’ve been keeping in touch with Teddy all along, sending him birthday presents like I have you,” he revealed. “He wanted to come visit, so as a treat for his coming of age I gave in and sent him directions.  He decided to bring Tori.”  (Hermione inwardly felt somewhat miffed that unlike with her, Harry’s communication with his godson was apparently two-way to at least some extent.)

“I made the instructions a real challenge,” Harry continued with a smirk.  “They had quite a time getting here.  So anyway, he’s under oath.  I obliviated her.”  Noting Hermione’s head snap toward him in surprise he quickly added, “At her request.  She wanted to tell you everything, so I just removed the location.  I decided that he should know how to get here in case of emergency.”

Hermione nodded – that made sense.  But in that case …

“What about me?” she wondered.  Harry met her eyes with a solemn gaze.

“I trust you.”  She shivered slightly at the intensity in those words.  The way he said them almost sounded like a different three-word phrase of endearment.

Before those thoughts could go any further, Harry announced that they had arrived.  Stepping around an outcropping of rock he led her into the cave that was otherwise well hidden from view.  Looking around, she was initially unimpressed.  It was rather simply decorated, with outdoor furniture and what she’d learned was a recently added porch swing.  It didn’t seem like much of a permanent dwelling.

But then, he surprised her again by taking her hand and walking through the back wall!

They emerged in an entirely different room, one with a distinctly modern appearance, particularly for the wizarding world.  It was furnished in a muggle style, with all the latest luxuries, including … a computer!

She spun around and stared at him.  “How …?” was all she could manage.

Harry was clearly pleased with himself, and was happy to explain.  “The Americans and the Japanese have figured out how to shield electronics from magic.  They’ve been competing with each other to be the first to come out with magic proof versions of each new technological advance.  They’re still a few years behind the muggles, but it’s a lot better than being several decades behind like they are here in Britain.”

More like a century behind, Hermione found herself correcting in her mind as she struggled to take in this astonishing information.  Harry showed her his cell phone and grinned.  She could only gape in amazement.

“Go ahead, try it,” he urged.  Her hand trembling slightly, she took it, stared at the keypad, and then punched in her mother’s number.

“Hi mum.  It’s me, Hermione.” 

Harry stepped away to give her some privacy as her mother wished her a happy birthday.  She explained that she was outside Hogwarts for the day and using a friend’s cell phone.  Her mother wondered which one of her friends owned a cell phone, forcing her to admit it was Harry.  A minute or so of explanation later, Mrs. Granger concluded by telling her daughter to take her head out of her arse and tell the man how she felt about him! 

This had been an ongoing point of contention between the two of them.  Hermione always maintained that she was fine being single, and that her life as an educator was very rewarding.  Her mother had come to the conclusion about ten years ago that her daughter was acting like a literary heroine waiting for her hero to return to her – a modern day Penelope remaining faithful to Odysseus.  Hermione would not admit, even to herself, that there might be some truth to that analogy.

When the phone conversation ended, Harry took her up some stairs through another invisible doorway to a large open room equipped with plush sofas, a recliner, a 72 inch flat screen HD television, an impressive looking sound system, and a wet bar.

Hermione rolled her eyes – this was most definitely a ‘guy’ room.  She glanced at Harry and raised an eyebrow at the telly. 

“Satellite dish,” he responded with pride.

“Yeah, I can see you wouldn’t get cable out here,” she quipped. 

She allowed him to push her into the recliner, and even consented when he urged her to lean back in it.  When she was settled he gestured at the wall and the lights dimmed.  Another wave and ceiling dissolved. 

Hermione gasped.  He’d recreated the Hogwarts Great Hall ceiling with its sky view! 

“Wait until night, the stars out here are incredible,” he announced excitedly.  Hermione remained stretched out in the recliner for several minutes (she had to admit that this was rather comfortable – perhaps the male of the species was on to something here) as she struggled to assimilate everything she was experiencing.  This was beyond anything she could have imagined about the heretofore hidden life of her best friend.

Eventually she was able to compose her thoughts again, and they resumed their conversation.  She’d noted that he hadn’t been using a wand, and took this opportunity to ask about that.  This led to a serious discussion about the nature of magic.

Harry informed her of a critical insight he’d gained in his travels – not all magic users used wands. 

“It turns out to be mostly a European thing,” he claimed.  “This would include the places we colonized, like Canada, Australia, the States, and so forth.  In the Mideast and parts of Asia they use staffs. Native Americans, including the Mayans, Aztecs, and Incans, chant their spells.  I even found a place in Africa where they cast magic by singing!”  He nodded at the amazed look on her face to reassure her that he was perfectly serious.  “And in eastern Asia they meditate, then cast spells without any focusing device.”

Harry paused, noticing the sparkle in Hermione’s eyes, her quickened breathing, and the way she leaned toward him as she absorbed this new, alternate view of magic.  To some extent, it was the way she had always reacted when learning something new, but right now he felt himself responding to her excitement on a more physical level.  Back at Hogwarts, when she’d reacted this way they were usually at a study table surrounded by books, and wearing formless robes or other heavy clothing.  But here they were in a warm, intimate setting and she was attired only in a pair of tight shorts and a thin, snug-fitting tank top that revealed just how excited she was!

Over the years he’d yearned for the company of his best friend, but it had been on an intellectual and emotional basis.  He’d missed her companionship, her warmth, her steadfast loyalty, her unreserved affection.  Now, the final piece clicked into place and he found himself desiring her physically as well.  It was with a sense of nervous anticipation that he began to wonder just how the rest of her visit would play out.

For her part Hermione was having a similar revelation.  Not only had Harry physically matured, but intellectually as well, and it was a major turn-on for her!  The last time she’d been so unexpectedly impressed by something a close friend had said was when Ron had suddenly showed concern for the safety of the Hogwarts house elves during the final battle.

“What I ultimately discovered,” Harry continued, unconsciously moving closer to her.  “Was that magic can be a tangible substance.  I learned to sense it, to feel its presence.”

“Like with the snorckack,” Hermione observed, connecting this information with her earlier query.  Harry nodded, pleased with how quickly she’d grasped the concept.

“Exactly.  I couldn’t see it, but I could detect its magic, and since I’m so familiar with everything around here, identify it and determine its approximate location,” he confirmed.  “Now, when we cast spells, what we’re all doing, using different methods, is taking our magic, gathering it, and redirecting it.  But the most powerful magic users are also able to supplement their own magic with the magic surrounding them.  There’s more of it in some places than others – Hogwarts or here, for example – but there’s magic everywhere.”

Hermione had to restrain herself from grabbing him and showing her appreciation for his new look and attitudes right then and there.  The atmosphere was becoming so charged, it felt as though if they leaned any closer together sparks might jump from one to the other.  She sought to ease the mounting pressure with humor.  “You sound like Yoda teaching Luke about the Force,” she joked.

Harry grinned, reached out his hand, and levitated her chair with her in it, eliciting a squeak of surprise.  “Harry!”  She quickly recovered though, and broke into a laugh, clapping her hands delightedly.  He let her down carefully, then jumped to his feet and hurried over to a storage bin, pulling out something that looked like a fancy flashlight.

“You’re kidding,” she protested as he displayed it to her.  “You actually made a light saber?”

“Yeah, but not really,” he admitted as he flicked it on and waved it around a few times.  “It’s just a light beam.  Actually, a focused lumos charm.  It still looks cool though, don’t you think?”  Hermione agreed wholeheartedly and asked if he could show her how to make one for herself.  Harry readily assented.  Then he grinned again and swept his hand across the space between them.

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” he intoned soberly.  She smiled at his silliness, but then he continued.  “Hi, I’m James Evans.”

Hermione assumed he was still teasing until she realized what he’d just done.  She no longer had the ability to say his real name!  It wasn’t an obliviation, since she still remembered it; she just couldn’t say it aloud.

“That’s amazing,” she blurted out.  “Some sort of combination of confundus and compulsion charms?”  Harry nodded, then cancelled the spell.

Before they left the room he magically unlocked another storage bin that she couldn’t even see before he opened it.  Almost reverently, he withdrew an object that appeared to be a simple cube, about a foot and a half square, of sleek gray material that resembled highly polished granite.   Her first impression was that it looked something like a very large paperweight.  He rested the palm of his hand on its surface and concentrated briefly, and in a few seconds the dark block began to turn semi-transparent.  Hermione gasped when she recognized it what was contained within its smoky depths.  The Elder Wand.

“After quite a bit of thought and study, I decided this was the best way to keep it out of anyone else’s hands,” he explained.  “It’s encased in a high performance resin.  Anything strong enough to break it or melt it would damage or destroy the wand.”  It turned out that one of the enchantments on the wand prevented him from destroying it while he was its master. (1)  (He decided not to reveal at this point that Luna had the Resurrection Stone.  She’d found it where he’d dropped it in the Forbidden Forest, one day while she was looking for bowtruckles, and used it to talk to her mum.)

Over supper Hermione brought Harry up to date on some of their friends.  Neville was now her colleague on the staff at Hogwarts as the professor of Herbology, and was married to Hannah Abbott.  He’d dated Ginny for a while after Harry left, but they’d broke up, discovering they weren’t compatible.  He wanted a simple life while she wanted more glamour.  At that revelation Harry mused that this indicated that he and Ginny wouldn’t have worked out either.

“Tori said that she’s a quidditch star,” he noted.  Hermione nodded, but then glanced away.  “What?” he asked, wondering what she was hiding.

“Indications are that she’s taken up with Blaise Zabini,” she revealed.  Harry pondered this information for a few moments.

“He was one of the Slytherins who didn’t go bad, right?” he clarified.

“Yes, but he’s still pro pureblood,” she pointed out.  Harry shrugged.

“Well, that’s her choice, I guess,” he decided.  “What about Ron?”

“He went through several girls while he was playing quidditch,” she told him.  “He basically took advantage of his celebrity status.”  Harry managed a chuckle – his best mate had always been a lot more interested in fame than he himself had been.  “He’s now hooked up with a witch who works at WWW with him named Felicia,” Hermione continued.  “Actually, they’ve moved in together, which Molly’s none too pleased with.”  Harry nodded, having no trouble imagining the Weasley matriarch expressing her disappointment in the morals of her youngest son.

“George married Angelina and they have two kids, one named Fred,” she went on.  “And let’s see, Bill and Fleur – you know about Victoire of course, but did she tell you she had a brother and a sister?”  Harry shook his head as a small smile broke out on his face.  He knew how happy Molly and Arthur would be to have several grandchildren.

“Charlie’s still working with dragons …”

“I know,” Harry cut her off.  Hermione shot him a questioning look, before the implication hit her.  “Harry Potter!  Tell me you do NOT have a dragon here!”

“Not yet, but we will soon,” he announced with satisfaction.  Seeing that she was not at all pleased by this thought he quickly added, “It’ll be a Welsh Green.  They’re native to this area.”  Hermione reluctantly conceded this to be true, and they were able to return to their previous conversation.

“So, what about you?” Harry wondered after she’d finished the rundown on the lives of their friends.  But Hermione only shrugged.

“I went on a few dates after I broke up with Ron, but nothing came of them.  It’s your fault, actually.”

“What?  How …?” Harry, caught up short, didn’t know quite how to respond to this.

“I kept comparing other guys to you and they always came up short,” she explained calmly.

“But we never dated!” he protested.

Hermione shrugged, in hindsight thinking that they certainly should have.  “We may as well have, with all the time we spent together,” she reasoned.  We actually lived together for six months!  So it’s only natural that you’re the standard I measure other guys against.” She paused while he absorbed that thought.  “You should be flattered, you know,” she added with another teasing smile. 

There she went, flirting with him again! The same thought flew through both their minds.

Harry first had an odd look on his face, but then grinned.  “I suppose you’re right,” he declared with mock arrogance.  Hermione laughed and punched him on the arm.  But then she turned serious and revealed her real dilemma - did guys want to date her because of her heroine status or because they were honestly interested in a bossy know it all? 

Harry leaned in and took her hand.  “Well, I’m quite fond of the bossy know it all,” he declared solemnly.  “She saved my arse too many times for me not to appreciate that particular personality trait.” 

Silence fell as they both gazed into each other’s eyes for several moments.

Hermione leaned back and cleared her throat.  “What about you?”

Harry shrugged.  “Nope.”

“No one?” she persisted.

He shook his head.  “I guess you could say I’ve adopted a hermit lifestyle.  I feel like Robinson Crusoe out here, building my own version of paradise.

“But even Robinson Crusoe had Friday,” Hermione pointed out softly.

Harry leaned forward.  “So, are you applying for the position of Girl Friday?”

Hermione matched his movement.  “Maybe.”

Harry’s head jerked up in surprise.  “You can’t!” he protested.  “You’re a Hogwarts Professor and Assistant Head.  You can’t just pack up and leave.”  Hermione noted to herself that he did not say he wouldn’t want her in that role.  But she wasn’t quite ready to lay everything on the table, so backed off for now.  But not completely.

“I suppose you’re right,” she conceded with a dramatic sigh.  “But it does sound appealing.” 

Harry agreed, sensing what was happening and deciding to follow her lead.

As the evening wore on, the talk turned eventually to the details of her visit.  “When can I see you again?” she wondered.

“I could send you another portkey for your birthday next year,” he suggested, tongue in cheek.

She responded with a stern glare.  “Not funny, Potter.”

“You could come back during the summer,” he offered, more seriously this time.

“How about Christmas holidays?” she countered.

“Sure,” he agreed readily, not at all unhappy at the opportunity to spend time with her again. 

“All right then,” Hermione decided.  “But if I’m not going to see you for three months I’m going to maximize my time with you.  Let’s go up and look at the stars.”

Somehow, the recliner became large enough for both of them, and the evening ended with her snuggled securely in his arms.  By this point she had made up her mind that they were ready to step up their level of intimacy, and it was up to her to take the first step.

When it was time to turn in for the night she simply informed that she intended to sleep in his bed.  He professed to be shocked at this, although not opposed to the idea.

“Why?” Hermione asked.  “We fell asleep together more than once in the tent, if you remember.”

Harry shook his head.  While that was true, there was one very essential difference.  Neither of them had been romantically interested in the other back then.  By this point now it was abundantly clear that this was no longer the case.

“Well, for one thing, I don’t wear anything to bed,” he admitted.  Hermione initial reaction was surprise, but then she nodded in understanding.  After all, he was all alone here.

“Well, I’m going to put on a nightgown, you can transfigure some shorts if you want,” she replied.  She tried to say it nonchalantly, but her red face betrayed her.

Harry’s only response was a wide-eyed stare.  Hermione met his stare with the same solemn gaze he’d favored her with earlier in the day, and returned his explanation with the same intensity. 

“I trust you.”

 

Hermione woke early the following morning, feeling Harry snuggled up against her back.  She smiled, recalling the look on his face when she came out of the bathroom last night in a thigh length nightie with a spaghetti strap top.  It was time to up the stakes.

Wiggling a bit, she managed to pull the hem of the nightie up above her waist, then spooned back into him.  She was thrilled at the tingling feeling that welled up inside her as she felt his hardness pressed against her bum, and delighted when he unconsciously wrapped his arm around her waist. 

Carefully, she moved it up higher and positioned his hand against her breast, holding it in place.  Her breath caught in her throat at the sensation of how wonderful this felt!  She gradually fell back into a blissful sleep, wishing all this could have happened years ago.

Harry woke some time later, and immediately noticed their position.  He let out a long sigh of relief that she was wearing knickers under her nightie.  He tried to gently remove his hand from her breast without waking her, but discovered that her grip was too strong, and decided she wanted it there.

He couldn’t believe how fast this was happening, but it didn’t feel wrong at all.  He flexed his fingers for a little subtle exploration – after all, this was uncharted territory.  It didn’t take long for him to decide that it felt amazing, and that he would greatly enjoy doing it again!  His ministrations elicited a contented moan from the witch in front of him, suggesting that she had similar thoughts on the matter.  He spooned more tightly against her and drifted back asleep.

The next time he awoke, he was alone in the bed.  He got up, rearranged his sleep shorts to make sure he was completely covered, and reached out with his senses.  He felt for Hermione’s location and determined that she was in the mouth of the cave.  Stopping in the kitchen to pick up the tea she had set brewing, he joined her to watch the sunrise.

She’d settled into one of the lounge chairs and was lying on it wrapped in a blanket.  When she saw him she broke into a wide smile and leaned forward to indicate that he should sit behind her.  She then snuggled back into him, wrapping them up together.  It was quite a cozy picture, and perfectly matched the mood they both were in.

“Sleep well?” he inquired.

“Very,” she responded simply.  They both shared a knowing smile.

They were quiet for a time as the sun rose over the valley, painting an enchanting picture of pure serenity.  “This is most beautiful place I’ve ever been,” Hermione breathed softly.  Harry nodded his agreement.  “I don’t want to leave … I think I could stay here forever, but I have to go back.”  Harry nodded again, clearly hearing the other message in her words. 

“How did you set up the portkey?” she asked, gesturing to the necklace that was still around her neck.

There were two types of portkey: one-way and round trip.  The former was easier to create, since only a single destination was required.  The latter required considerably more magic, and skill, since the return destination was variable and wasn’t determined until the moment the portkey was activated.  These were customarily created with a specific time limit for their reactivation.  Complicating matters was the nature of the Hogwarts wards – any portkey could be used inside the grounds to leave the school, but only the Headmaster could make a portkey to come into the castle from the outside, unless it was a round trip journey that originated from within.  Accordingly, the portkey Harry had sent Hermione was of the round trip variety.

Harry had experienced both types while a student at Hogwarts – Dumbledore had used the first type to send him back from the battle at the Ministry of Magic at the end of his fifth year, and Voldemort had used the second to capture him during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year.  He’d originally thought that Voldemort had made a mistake by enabling his return after the resurrection ritual, but later realized that his foe’s intention had been to terrorize the wizarding world by sending his dead body back.

“Twenty-four hours,” he sighed.  He wished now it would have been more, thirty or thirty-six perhaps, but that length of time had seemed reasonable back when he’d created it. 

Hermione nodded, having the exact same thought, but knowing there was nothing to be done about it now.  Either of them could create an alternate, single trip replacement, or she could apparate, but both of those options would leave her outside of the Hogwarts gates.  She didn’t really want to be observed walking back to the castle with an overnight bag and generating either questions or speculations about where she’d been.

She decided to make the best of the situation.  “All right.  Enough time for breakfast and a swim, then,” she declared.

 

Hermione’s pulse raced with nervous excitement as she pulled a pair of shorts over her swimsuit bottom, and deliberately left off the bikini top.  After putting on her tank top she encountered Harry outside the room, who she saw was just as apprehensive.  He fidgeted as he informed her that he didn’t even own swimwear.  Since there was no one else around he never bothered with it.  They both knew that he could easily conjure or transfigure a swimsuit, but that wasn’t the real question.  Hermione swallowed hard and replied that it was OK with her if he went without.

Then she had another thought.  “What about when Luna visits?” she inquired.

An uncomfortable look crossed Harry’s face.  “Given what you know about Luna, how do you think she’s attired when she’s here?” he asked.

Realization dawned on Hermione.  “She’s nude all the time?” she guessed.  Harry nodded.

“‘After all, the animals don’t wear clothing, why should we?’” he quoted her in a passable imitation of her unconcerned attitude.  Hermione’s face fell.

“So, you and Luna skinnydip together?” she deduced dejectedly.  But Harry shook his head violently, hastening to correct her assumption and relieve her concern.

“She only found me swimming one time,” he assured her.  “We actually have little contact when she’s here.  I try to stay out of her way.”

Hermione was quite relieved at this revelation, but now was curious, and shot Harry a puzzled look at the vehemence of his response.  After all, Luna was not unattractive.  (Although she now understood why the blonde woman was always so tan.)

Harry read the question in her expression.  “Besides the obvious, talking to her for more than fifteen minutes gives me a headache.”  Hermione smiled at this, very relieved, as well as comprehending completely his reaction to their unconventional friend.

Harry apparated them back to the pool with the waterfall, landing on the ledge where he’d first encountered Teddy and Tori.  Before he could lose his nerve, he stripped off his shorts and dived in.  Hermione watched as she gathered her own courage, then removed her shorts, folded them, and placed them on a rock.  Turning away, she pulled off her tank top, folded it as well, and laid it on top of the shorts.  OK, she thought as she took a deep breath, she was now officially in a topless swimsuit.  Lots of women did this at beaches all over Europe; there was no reason she couldn’t too.

She turned back to face the pool, where Harry was treading water, watching her every move.  His mouth had gone dry as he stared at her, amazed that they were actually doing this.  He was entranced with the way she looked, standing there in the sun attired in just a small bikini bottom.  After a few more seconds she took another deep breath and dove in.

They swam around for a while, constantly sneaking looks at each other, gradually becoming bolder.  Finally, they embraced and shared their first kiss.

One thing led to another and the kisses continued and grew more fervent as hands began to roam.  But after several minutes of ecstasy, they began to calm down, by mutual unspoken agreement.  They didn’t want to rush this or move too fast – after all, she would be leaving in half an hour.  It was not an appropriate moment for them to make love for their first time.

Instead, they enjoyed each other’s state of undress for as long as possible, exiting the pool and hurriedly dressing and casting quick drying charms with minutes to spare.  After sharing one last kiss, she pulled away and gazed lovingly into his eyes.

“Why don’t you come to visit me?” she proposed.  Harry needed only a second or two to consider this, and nodded quickly.   “How about Halloween?” was her follow-up suggestion.  He nodded again, musing about how appropriate that would be, as it was on that day that they’d first become friends.  And fortunately it, just like her birthday had, fell on a Saturday that year.  (2)

“I’ll be there,” he promised.

-xox-XOX-XOX-xox-

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