Hermione's Plan
Information, Both Useful and Disturbing

By Chem Prof

Previous Inspiration Setting Things in Motion Getting to Know the Grangers Initial Preparations Final Preparations and Bon Voyage A Year in Mexico, Part 1 A Year in Mexico, Part 2 A Year in Mexico, Part 3 An Unexpected Friend and Ally Joy and Sorrow Life Goes On Healing A Very Long Week Revelations Reactions Tales of Two Horcruxes Picking Up the Pieces Training Ron A Call to Arms (and Legs) Potter's Army Information, Both Useful and Disturbing Summer's End An Eventful Beginning Fall Term Part 1 - Happy Birthday Hermione Fall Term Part 2 - Many Things Are Revealed Fall Term Part 3 - On to Halloween Wedding Bells Romantic Interlude The Hogwarts Challenge The War Comes to Hogwarts Where It All Ends Epilogue Next

Chapter 21, Information, Both Useful and Disturbing

The alternate life that Harry and Hermione led away from the Potter manor was no less hectic than the other was.  As the month of August went on, they would have several encounters that would have significant consequences, both immediate and for their future lives.

After a followup exchange of owls with Connie Hammer discussing the claims they had made during their meeting, the Director of the DMLE invited them to come in to give testimony on the Umbridge accusations.  Eventually she was able to convince the skeptical pair that she was on their side, citing her long friendship with Amelia Bones.  Besides being Susan’s aunt, Harry remembered and respected her as being fair during his trial two years earlier. 

The standard procedure allowed the use of pensieve memories in place of direct testimony, and the teens accordingly withdrew and deposited their recollections of Umbridge’s most grievous offenses.  Then they offered to confirm their memories with Veritaserum.  Hammer was shocked, as almost no one willingly took the truth serum, fearing what they might be forced to divulge.  She readily accepted the offer, however, with the provision that they would be placed under the potion one at a time, so that the other could watch to ensure that no inappropriate questions were asked.

Once this was concluded, Harry asked for a favor in return.  “We would also like to speak with Peter Pettigrew.”

Hammer hesitated.  Pettigrew was one of their highest security prisoners, and access to him was restricted to only herself, Robards, and a few senior Aurors.  And yet this was Harry Potter, whom she owed big time, who had captured Pettigrew in the first place, and who had a right to confront him if anyone did.

“Pettigrew is in a secure facility that only a few of my most trusted people are aware of,” she responded cautiously.  “I am reluctant to give anyone access to him unless it is absolutely necessary.”

Harry and Hermione shared a glance, silently pondering how to proceed.  “It is very important,” Harry replied evenly, turning back to Hammer.  “There is some information we need to know that he might have.”

“Perhaps we can help each other, then,” Hammer countered.  “What do you know about the location of Severus Snape?”

Hermione’s eyes widened but she said nothing.  She inwardly cursed herself for her slipup, because Hammer definitely noticed her reaction.  But Hammer’s attention was primarily focused on Harry.  After only a brief pause, he answered, “I don’t know where he is.”

“But you do know something,” she persisted.  “I am fully aware that he was involved in the attack on the Weasley home, and that he was captured.  Certainly you at least know who is holding him.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that,” he insisted.  “Look, I know that you need to keep things secret.  You have to accept that I need to also.  I’m sure that whoever is holding him is on our side, and has a good reason for not turning him over to you yet, if he’s even still alive.  All I want to do is talk to Petttigrew.  I don’t have to know where you’re holding him.  You can blindfold me when you take me to him if you like.”

Hammer nodded slowly, apparently considering his suggestion.  “You know, I could have asked you this while you were under Veritaserum,” she pointed out.

“No you couldn’t have,” Hermione broke in.  “I would not have let you.”  Now Hammer turned her attention to the other member of the duo, a touch of surprise showing in her stern expression.  The older witch locked gazes with the younger, each measuring the other.  ‘You think you could have stopped me?’ the clear challenge from one. ‘Yes, I do.’ the confident response from the other.  Finally Hammer broke it off, apparently satisfied with the results of her scrutiny.

“I see.”  The Director relaxed her stance and the two teens followed suit.  “It seems that you are both quite capable of protecting sensitive information.  For your information, Mr. Moody has been keeping me well informed of the Snape situation, unofficially of course.  I will take you to visit Mr. Pettigrew.”

Hammer went on to reveal that the important Death Eater prisoners, both the ones captured recently as well as the ones taken prisoner in the Department of Mysteries a year previous were not being held in Azkaban, or at the Ministry, but at a secret location.  She led them to another room that contained nothing but a desk and bare walls, but which required several unlocking charms to enter.  From a drawer of the desk she removed a long eagle feather quill and waved her wand over it in a silent incantation, resulting in the familiar glow of a portkey being created.  When the three of them had taken hold, she tapped it twice with her wand, and they disappeared from the room in a blur of color.

They reappeared in a similar room, and after Hammer replaced the quill in the corresponding desk drawer, they emerged to find themselves in what appeared to be a castle dungeon.  “This is one time when Moody’s paranoia served us in good stead,” she commented as she led them along a dimly lit corridor.  “He set this facility up during the first war, and told almost no one about it.  Once he learned that I was attempting to set up a more secure prison last year, he revealed it to me.  Not even the Minister knows all of the details – he knows that it exists but not where it is or how it is accessed.”  She paused before a seemingly blank section of the rough cut stone wall and peered intently at it before tapping a diamond pattern on four unseen points on the surface.  The wall split and moved apart and they stepped through to find themselves facing a cell.

The wall resealed itself behind them as they looked into the cell containing Peter Pettigrew.  He appeared not to realize that they were there, and Hermione deduced that there must be a charm that mimicked the effects of a two way mirror that muggle police used in their interrogation rooms.  Her assumption proved correct when they felt a shimmer as they moved closer to the cell and the startled Marauder turned Death Eater looked up at them.  Hammer stayed behind the masking charm while Hermione and Harry confronted the man who had betrayed his parents as well as the Weasleys.

“Hello, Peter,” came Harry’s voice beside her, sounding considerably calmer and more composed than she was feeling right now.  “We have some questions for you.”

“I have nothing to say to you, Potter,” snarled the small man.  Hermione noted that he looked much older than she remembered, an indication that his life the past three years serving his dark lord had not been particularly invigorating.  She wondered if he regretted the choices he had made, and if so, which ones.  She shook her head to get her mind back on the reason they were here.

“Well, if we can’t do it the easy way, we’ll have to do it the hard way,” Harry responded, more forcefully this time, while raising his wand.  “Legilimens!”

Pettigrew’s head snapped back in surprise, but he quickly reacted to the mental assault by shutting his eyes and tightening up his face in concentration.  Resistance to mind probes was evidently a key part of Death Eater training, Hermione found herself thinking, recalling how Harry had told her of how he had witnessed Malfoy’s own skill in Occlumency.  She watched impassively as Harry battled with the trapped rat for the memories he sought.  After a minute, without changing her expression, she initiated the second part of their plan.  Subtly, she reached out with her own mind probe, wordlessly incanting the spell herself, and eased her way into Pettigrew’s memories.  Harry was creating a diversion, pounding away at Pettigrew’s memories of his mother and father, and their casting of the Fidelius charm with him as Secret Keeper, seemingly desperate to learn how he had betrayed them.  She, on the other hand, was searching for a more recent memory.

Finally, she had it – a dusty room in Riddle Manor, where Pettigrew was cautiously feeding a special morsel to Nagini.  A brooch that had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, now infused with a fragment of an evil soul, secreted for safekeeping inside a creature that Voldemort felt a particular affinity for and shared a special connection with, the massive serpent.

Carefully, Hermione withdrew her probe without changing her expression.  Then, once again back in her own mind, she turned to Harry whose own mental assault on Pettigrew was wavering and put her hand on his arm, as if to console him.  “Harry, you should give up, it’s not working.”

Harry slumped down, red-faced and exhausted, as the mental connection between him and Pettigrew broke and she caught him before he fell.  But he angrily pushed her away, refusing her assistance, and turned and stormed back through the charmed barrier.  Hermione took one last look back at Pettigrew, who had collapsed onto his small bed, but who now drew himself back up and sneered at her.

“He’s too weak!” the rat-faced man gloated.  “He’ll never defeat the Dark Lord.”  Hermione grimaced and turned away quickly, disappearing through the barrier herself before she lost control.

Back on the other side Hammer gave them both an inquiring look, but Harry only nodded at her grimly and she reopened the stone wall.  But once they were safely back out in the corridor his demeanor changed instantly, and he caught Hermione up in a big hug as a large grin broke out on her face.

“Did you get it?” he asked eagerly, as he pulled back far enough to look at her.  She beamed at him and nodded.

“Got it.”

Back in Hammer’s office the DMLE Director had some more information for them.  She had observed them closely during the Pettigrew episode and concluded that here was a pair not to be trifled with.  “There’s something else you should know,” she began.  “Severus Snape is being transferred to our custody this week and is scheduled to go to trial eventually.  Unfortunately we don’t have a very strong case against him on the most serious charge.”  Harry scowled and Hermione moved closer to him and took his arm.  “You see, we have no direct evidence that he killed Albus Dumbledore.”  Before either of the teens could object that they had heard his confession themselves, she added, “we do have a confession that was obtained by illegal means, but we cannot use that in a court hearing.  You see,” she said almost apologetically, “we are bound by similar rules of evidence as the muggle court system.  Our justice system would be a nightmare if we could just give Veritaserum to anyone we wished and force an admission of guilt.  The potential for abuse is enormous.”  Hermione nodded in agreement, but Harry’s look of anger remained, likely due to his recollection of how he himself had been treated by the wizarding justice system.

“Would eyewitness testimony be more useful, then?” Hermione asked, not relaxing her grip on Harry’s arm.  She knew he would not be happy having to relive that horrible night, but she also knew he would want to see Snape pay for his crime.  Hammer’s eyes widened.

“There were witnesses?” she shot back.  “Besides other Death Eaters?”

Harry now managed to bring his anger under control and sent a look of gratitude mixed with unhappiness toward Hermione.  “The Professor and I were alone at the top of the Astronomy Tower,” he stated in a halting voice.  “Then Draco Malfoy burst in and disarmed Dumbledore while he was immobilizing me.  I was under an invisibility cloak and he didn’t want me to be discovered.  Draco was supposed to kill Dumbledore, but he lost his nerve as the Professor tried to talk him out of it.  Then four other Death Eaters arrived, and taunted him a bit.  Finally Snape came up and killed him while he sat there leaning up against the wall pleading with him.”  Hermione’s hand tightened on his arm as she felt him getting close to losing his composure.  “I had to sit there and watch the whole thing unable to move or do anything …”  Harry buried his face in his hands and slumped forward, while Hermione quickly moved to wrap her arms around him, her own tears trickling down her cheeks.  Her heart ached, both for the memory of the dead headmaster and for the pain her Harry had suffered.

Even Hammer’s normally stern visage had cracked, and she looked on in silence as she allowed the students before her, who had experienced more horror than anyone ought to have to endure, to recover their composure.  At length Harry pulled himself together and deposited his memory of the fateful night’s events in the evidence pensieve, taking care to begin it right after the landing on the Astronomy tower.  Once the Director had viewed it she had even more questions.  ‘Why were they there in the first place?’  ‘Why was Dumbledore so weak?’  But Harry stoutly refused to say more, and a glance at Hermione’s fiercely protective expression indicated that she could expect no more persuasion from that quarter.  Knowing that she now had all the evidence she needed to put Snape away permanently, and Draco Malfoy as well, she thanked them for their assistance and bid them good day.  Emotionally drained from the events of the day, the young couple returned home and cuddled together for the evening, and decided to relive some happy memories in Harry’s pensieve.

-ooOoo-

An unexpected invitation came a few days later from the Department of Mysteries.  The Unspeakable Croaker was interested in having a conversation with them, and since they owed him a very large favor for the time turner, they responded affirmatively.  It was a grim-faced pair of students, however, who rode the elevator down to the ninth level.  All of their memories of this place were bad, and their hands subconsciously found each other and clutched fiercely in mutual support.  The Rotating Room delivered them to a hallway filled with offices that they had not encountered on their previous visit and they managed to relax somewhat. 

Once in Croaker’s office they willingly provided information on the performance of the time turner and noted his satisfied reaction.    Then he moved on to the primary reason for the meeting.  “How much do you two know about Dementors and Inferi?” the wizened little man asked abruptly.

“Well, I’ve faced both of them,” Harry replied with a furrowed brow, as he thought back over his encounters.  “Hermione was with me for some of the times.  We first ran into Dementors third year, and were actually attacked by more than a hundred of them at the end of the year.  I was also attacked by two during the summer before fifth year.”  He looked over at Hermione for confirmation and she nodded in agreement.  “As for Inferi, Professor Dumbledore and I had to fight off a bunch of them at … well let’s just say they were in a cave.  That was the night …” his face fell and he swallowed hard but continued.  “Later on that night was when he was killed.”

Croaker regarded them with an intense stare.  “And how did you fight them off?”

“During third year I learned how to conjure a Patronus,” Harry answered.  “I was able to drive the Dementors away with it.  That was when we used the time turner, which we told you about before.  I couldn’t get the Patronus to form the first time, but the second time I could.  It was easier the following year, but then it was just two Dementors.  Later in fifth year I taught Hermione and a few others in our defense club to conjure a Patronus too.”  Hermione smiled as he sent a look of pride her way.

“Professor Dumbledore drove away the Inferi with a flame spell,” he continued.  “Hermione and I have since learned that spell in case we ever run into any again.”  He shot a puzzled glance at Hermione and she shrugged.  “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been instructed to share the information that we have on how to combat them with you,” the Unspeakable revealed.  “Everything you have said is correct, although a Patronus is difficult for many wizards and witches to conjure in the presence of a Dementor.  I expect that you are aware of the difference, having done it yourself.”  Harry nodded grimly and Hermione’s thoughts were taken back to that night by the lake when Harry had attempted to protect her and Sirius.  His efforts had netted only a mist, while hers failed completely.  It was only later, when he was able to cast from the opposite shore, beyond the range of the mind-numbing fear produced by the close proximity of the nightmarish creatures, that he succeeded.

“We’re training a group of friends this summer, and I expect that by the end of the month at least half of them will be able to conjure a fully formed Patronus,” Harry revealed.  “And the rest of them will at least be able to get a fair amount of mist.  When I learned I practiced against a boggart which helped simulate the actual conditions.  I reckoned Moody or Remus could get us one so everyone else can do the same.”

Hermione anticipated Croaker’s next question and added, “Harry’s boggart is a Dementor.”  Croaker’s mouth quickly snapped shut and he turned to regard her thoughtfully before turning back to Harry.

“You will find that as your situation in life changes the things you fear also change,” he commented.  “I suspect that your greatest fear may no longer be that which it was at the age of thirteen.”

Harry frowned, then his eyes widened as he turned an agonized look toward Hermione.  In that look she realized that his greatest fear would now be the same as hers would be.  For each of them it was the fear that the other would not survive the final encounter with Voldemort.  She was certain that if she encountered a boggart it would turn into Harry’s lifeless body, and for him it would be her own death.

Croaker broke into their sorrowful exchange.  “Even so, your idea is sound.  Just make sure you teach them to conjure their Patroni as soon as they know Dementors are in the area.  But there’s something else you can do.  Both Dementors and Inferi are creatures of the dark.  They despise the light.”  He had their attention once again.  This was the same thing Dumbledore had told Harry about the Inferi, but they hadn’t made the same connection with Dementors.  Yet both times Harry had been attacked it had been at night.

“So we can use flame curses on Dementors, too?” Hermione asked.

“You can, but even more effective is the Solarus spell.  It creates a blindingly bright light.”  Hermione immediately took out a quill and parchment, and caught Harry’s grin out of the corner of her eye.  Without missing a beat she reached out and swatted him on the arm with her right hand while making notes with her left.  “Unfortunately it is not selective as to who is blinded, friend or foe, so it must only be used in extreme circumstances.”

“Couldn’t you wear protective goggles?” inquired Harry.  Croaker’s puzzled look indicated that he didn’t understand the reference.

“Muggles who work with devices that give off bright light, such as welders, wear a face shield that protects their eyes,” Hermione explained.  Croaker obviously still wasn’t entirely clear as to the specifics, but he gave her a patronizing smile and shook his head.

“My dear, I am certain that there is nothing that muggles can devise that could contain the power of this spell,” he assured her.  Hermione wasn’t at all convinced that he was right, since muggle technology was capable of amazing things, but recognized the combination of arrogance and ignorance that the wizarding world so often displayed toward anything muggle and knew it was pointless to continue that line of discussion.

“Leaving that aside, what will this Solaris spell do to them?”  Hermione persisted.  “Can they be destroyed?  And how are they controlled?”

“Bright light, from any source, is painful to both Inferi and Dementors, and they will shy away from it.”  Croaker responded, all traces of humor now gone.  “However, I do not believe that you could control Inferi, nor would you want to.  Only powerful dark magic can reanimate the dead.  It is true that the Ministry had some semblance of control over the Dementors, but that was a cruel bargain.  They only stayed with us because we promised them souls to feed on.  The current dark lord is able to offer them much more than we could.  As for your other question, it is certainly possible to destroy Inferi, but not easily.  You already have the tools you need for that.  A powerful blasting curse can rip them apart, and a bludgeoning hex can knock them down.  Fire can burn them.  But if they are not completely destroyed they will continue to attack.  Remember though, that mind based spells have no effect.  They cannot be stunned and are immune to any of the Unforgiveables.”  Both teens listened in rapt attention, with Hermione jotting down notes as fast as she could. 

“As for Dementors, a strong enough Patronus can attack, injure or even possibly kill one.  It was believed that Albus Dumbledore’s Patronus was of sufficient strength, although I am not aware that he ever attempted to destroy one.”  He turned an appraising eye to Harry and continued, “We do have a method to test the strength of one.  I am curious to see how you might fare.  It is not at all common for a single Patronus to be able to drive off more than one or two Dementors, yet you claimed to have dispersed a far greater number than that.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance and she nodded her encouragement.  Croaker led them to another room filled with instruments, some of which reminded them of the silver instruments that Dumbledore had kept in his office.  Hermione made a mental note that they still needed to find out what the two instruments he had left Harry actually did.  Croaker motioned to a pair of gold rectangular objects that had a mirrored surface on one side and with a gesture from his wand a gold beam appeared between them.  “Cast your Patronus and send it through the beam,” he instructed. 

Hermione leaned over to Harry and whispered, “Try your old one first.”  Harry nodded, concentrated briefly, and called out the incantation.  A large silver stag burst from his wand and cantered off through the beam and turned to look back at him as if awaiting further instructions.  Croaker leaned over and looked at the reading on one of the gold boxes.

“Not bad,” he said, clearly impressed.  “An 82.  Definitely good enough to drive a large number away, but not enough to injure one.”  At Harry’s prompting Hermione stepped up next and sent her otter through the beam.  Croaker checked the readout again.  “70.  Still quite a bit above normal.  The average score for a strong witch or wizard, such as a fully trained Auror, is 50.  I would say that the DMLE will be very interested in the two of you once you graduate.”  He caught himself and a grin cracked his face for what might have been the first time in years.  “Well, they would be interested in the pair of you in any case, but even if you weren’t who you are these scores would catch their attention.”  He was about to shut down the detector when Harry stopped him.

“Now try your other one,” he told Hermione.  Focusing this time on a particularly pleasant episode with Harry, Hermione cast the charm once again and her lion jumped from her wand and leapt through the beam.  The stunned Unspeakable peered at the display and his jaw dropped.

“105!  Unbelievable!  A fifty percent increase.  That’s strong enough to seriously damage one.  Any Patronus over 100 has that ability.  How did you do that?”  Instead of answering, Hermione smiled at Harry and motioned him to go next.  A moment later an enormous lioness sprang through the beam to join her mate.  Croaker almost didn’t dare to look at the number, and when he did he had to grab onto the table to support himself.

“123!  Another fifty percent increase!” he gasped.  Somewhat shakily he drew himself back to his feet.  “Dumbledore is the only one I’ve ever seen score higher.  Who are you people?”

Harry and Hermione shared a very satisfied look before turning back to Croaker.  “What does it take to destroy one,” Hermione asked.

“According to the charts, 150, but we’ve never actually seen one destroyed,” he answered, still looking back and forth between them in disbelief.

“How about if they attacked one together?” Harry inquired, gesturing to the pair of lions who were now rolling around together on the floor, playfully biting at each other.

“I … they’re not …” Croaker paused.  It wasn’t supposed to be possible to direct Patroni to cooperate with each other, but he wasn’t sure of anything when it came to this pair.  “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.

It was a very thoughtful young couple that left the Ministry building that afternoon.

-ooOoo-

“We got a message from Bill and Fleur,” Hermione announced as she went through the day’s post one morning in mid August.  The newlyweds had been gone for more than a week and were considerately sending back a progress report.

Dear Harry and Hermione,

We’re having a fabulous time here along the Adriatic.  We wish you could see it, but we understand that you have other things to do this summer.  Fleur says to tell Hermione that she would really enjoy the beaches in Croatia and Montenegro.  (I think Harry would enjoy the scenery, too!)   We’re gradually working our way south. 

We also want to take this opportunity to thank you again for the lovely engraved commemorative cup you gave us for our wedding.  It’s simply exquisite.  It’s as though the artist who made it managed to put a bit of himself into it.

We are having such a good time that we think we will extend our trip for another few weeks, so we may not get a chance to see you again before your classes resume in the fall.

Thanks again for being at our wedding and for everything you’ve done for our families.

Bill and Fleur

“OK, I think I got most of that,” Harry mused, scratching his head thoughtfully.  “But what was that about the beaches?”

Hermione gave him a sultry smile.  “There are some topless beaches in both Croatia and Montenegro.  Perhaps we can go there and try them out some day.”  She laughed at the grin that appeared on Harry’s face, then turned serious.  “But the coded part was the bit about working their way south, and Albania is directly south of Montenegro.  That’s where they are actually searching.  They seem to have a lead on Hufflepuff’s cup and they think they’ll have it in a few more weeks’ time.”

-ooOoo-

“Harry?”

Hermione paused and looked over her shoulder.  They were both getting dressed to go visit the Longbottoms for tea.  Since she wanted to make a good impression on the Longbottom matriarch they were wearing dress robes (but not formal) and she had decided that she ought to wear a bra with them.  Following Fleur’s advice that if she had to wear a bra, it should be a sexy one, she had decided on one of the fancy bra and knicker sets the French witch had helped her pick out.  She had pulled on a light blue thong and had just now slipped the matching bra over her shoulders.  It was a tiny bit of lace and nearly transparent fabric, cut very low to display her quite nicely.  Now she was standing in front of the mirror and as she finished fastening it stopped to regard her figure.  Unlike the occasion all those months ago (her time) on the evening she had arrived home from school she was now reasonably satisfied with what she saw.  Harry certainly was, she noticed with a smile as she caught him looking at her.  In fact, she noted as she allowed her eyes to glide down his body, his appreciation for her current state was quite evident.  She returned her gaze to his face and her smile broadened as he flushed slightly, knowing that she had caught him, and he grinned at her.

“Yes?” he finally responded, coming up behind her and putting his hands on her waist.  She briefly forgot what she was going to ask him as he started kissing her shoulder and sliding his hands up and down along her bare skin while his lips worked their way to her neck.  Just as his roaming fingers reached the thin material that covered her breasts she managed to pull herself together and with not a small touch of regret turned in his arms to face him.

“Not now,” she scolded in a mock stern voice as she hit him gently on the chest.  “We have to finish getting ready.  She smiled again at the playful pout he gave her, then he pulled her in for a brief hug and released her with a nice little kiss.

“You were about to ask me something,” he reminded her as he stepped back and made no effort to hide his inspection of her brief attire.  She felt a tingling in her breasts as they responded to his gaze, making a firm impression on their abbreviated covering.  Before he could reconsider his forbearance she reached over to the back of the chair and grabbed her dress robes and began pulling them over her head.  Ever helpful, he stepped up to help her get them adjusted properly, and also managed to sneak in another kiss on the back of her neck.

“I was wondering what you thought of the girls in the PDA.”  She noticed the puzzled look on his face at the abrupt change of subject and hastened to clarify.  “How you think they look.  The other guys seem to appreciate the way they look in their exercise clothing and their dragonhide armor but you didn’t have much reaction.”

“Oh,” he replied as his confusion cleared, seeing the connection now.  “I guess they look OK.  Not as good as you do,” he added quickly, as a worried look flashed across his face.  Hermione shook her head and smiled.

“You’re sweet,” she said as she leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  “But I’m curious.  Which ones do you think look the best?”  She smiled warmly at him, trying to dispel his nervousness with the topic and assure him that it was all right for him to tell her.

“Besides you, you mean?” he clarified.  Hermione rolled her eyes and motioned for him to continue.  “Well, they all look pretty good.”  She gave him a look that made it clear that he wasn’t going to get out of it that easily.  “What do you think?” he tried.

Hermione huffed and decided to try a different approach.  “It seemed to me that a lot of the guys were rather interested in the way Susan and Lavender filled out the dragonhide armor,” she offered.  This got a smile out of Harry and he visibly relaxed.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “some of them just barely managed to keep from drooling.” He sat down on the sofa and she sat down next to him, silently urging him with her eyes to continue.  “I don’t know.  I mean, I like to look at a nice figure as much as the next guy but I guess I’m not so focused on size as much as some guys are, if you know what I mean.”  Hermione knew exactly what he meant and reached over and gave his hand a squeeze.

“I though Ginny looked particularly good,” she suggested casually.

“Yeah …” Harry began before he caught himself.  “I mean yes, I suppose you’re right.”  Hermione punched him on the arm and smirked.  “Come on, Hermione,” he protested.  “You know I think Ginny’s attractive.”  Hermione responded by taking hold of his arm and giving him a quick hug.

“I’m sorry for teasing you about it Harry,” she said apologetically.  “But I honestly wondered what you thought.  I think that Ginny has a very nice figure but it seems like all the guys care about is big breasts.”

“Yeah, some do,” he agreed.  “But I think for a lot of them it was the initial shock.  Quite a few of them were making comments about Ginny and Parvati later as well.  Padma too, although she doesn’t try to call attention to herself the way Parvati does.  Personally, I guess I prefer the kind of figure the three of them have.  And you of course,” he added anxiously.  Hermione giggled and leaned over to give him another kiss on the cheek.  He was trying so hard to say the right things.

“So,” she asked slyly.  “Of all the girls in the PDA … besides me … Ginny is the one you’d want to see on a topless beach?”

To her surprise, Harry actually took some time to think about this question.  “Does Fleur count?” he asked with a grin.  Hermione grinned back and shook her head so he thought a bit longer.  “I don’t think so,” he finally replied.  “I think it would be too awkward.  With someone like Fleur, I’ve never had a relationship with her so I could admire how good she looked and not be worried that she’d take it the wrong way.  With Ginny I’d be worried that she’d see how much I enjoyed looking at her and think there was more to it.  Does that make sense?”

“Actually, it makes a lot of sense.  You’ve thought along these lines before?”  Harry nodded.  “OK, then besides Ginny.  Who would you most like to see?”

“Daphne.”  Hermione’s eyebrows shot up.  She hadn’t even considered the blonde Slytherin.  She and Harry had just met with her and Tracey the day before and arranged for them to begin coming to the training sessions.  But it made sense.  Hermione had shown the two Slytherin girls the exercise clothing that the other girls wore during training and the dragonhide armor.  Daphne had tried on one of her tank tops and had filled it out very nicely.  Since she was taller than Hermione, the top even revealed a strip of bare skin around her waist. 

As she thought about it, she decided that Daphne more closely resembled Fleur than any of the other PDA girls did, and Hermione thought that Fleur had a perfect figure.  Evidently Harry did also.  “She just looks good all around,” Harry explained unnecessarily.  “And she’s taller and … well … more developed than Parvati or Padma.  On a topless beach …” he shrugged.  Hermione decided that he was right.  The smaller breasted girls would be overshadowed by Daphne in that situation.  She decided that this discussion had gone on long enough, and that she was happy that Harry’s ideas on what made a girl look attractive were so closely aligned with hers.

“Well, enough of that,” she said rising to her feet.  “We need to get going.  But thank you for being so honest.  I really appreciate that.”  She smiled up at him and took his hand as they walked toward the door.

“So, did I pass?” he asked nervously.  She laughed and gave his hand a squeeze.

“You passed.”

The week before Harry had pulled Neville aside and sat down with him to tell him about the prophecy.  That had led to a long discussion with his friend about the consequences of Dumbledore’s fateful interview for a divination teacher.  It had cost both of them their parents and they ended up sharing with each other details of their childhoods that Neville had never told anyone, and Harry had told only Hermione.  One of the things that Neville had mentioned was that the Longbottoms were an old pureblood family and that his grandmother held a seat on the Wizengamot.  Since they had been wanting to learn more about that body, this had prompted him to contact her with a request to meet that led to this afternoon’s invitation to tea.

Mrs. Longbottom greeted them very graciously and led them to her drawing room, apologizing for Neville’s absence.  Actually, they knew that he was at the Potter mansion training, but didn’t feel the need to explain that situation.  When Harry expressed his puzzlement that he hadn’t seen her at his trial after the Dementor attack before his fifth year, she explained that she had intended to attend, but that the time was changed at the last minute and she wasn’t notified.  She remarked that several of the Wizengamot members who would have been expected to be sympathetic to him were also somehow not made aware of the time change and offered her opinion that it was not a coincidence.  The teens both agreed with her completely.  Then she dropped the first of her bombshells.

Because of his inheritance from Sirius, Harry now had the rights to two places on the Wizengamot, the Black seat and the Potter seat.  However, he didn’t need to worry about that for now since he couldn’t use them until he turned thirty.  His father was never old enough to take his seat, and Sirius was an escaped convict so he couldn’t either.  But the catch was, he could only hold one of the seats, not both.

The two teens looked at each other in amazement.  Now that she thought about it, it made sense, Hermione decided.  She didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to her before.  The Wizengamot seats were held by old pureblood families, and both the Blacks and the Potters certainly qualified on that count.  Two seats!  Just think of the changes they could lobby for from such a position – the treatment of other magical species for example.  But he could only hold one or the other.  Unless …

“Could Hermione hold the other?” Harry asked the question just before Hermione did.

“Yes,” the stern faced elderly woman replied.  “But she must decide whether she will be Lady Potter or Lady Black.  It must be one or the other.  Whichever title she assumes, she may take that seat.  You could then take the other.”

“Oh, so the other title, Lady Black or Lady Potter, would just be vacant then?” Hermione surmised.

“Not necessarily,” the Longbottom matriarch replied with a sour look on her face.  She seemed reluctant to continue, but stiffened slightly and went on.  “The other title could be used by Mr. Potter’s second wife.”

The second bombshell stunned the pair into shocked silence.  They barely heard Mrs. Longbottom as she explained that, although she personally found it distasteful, wizarding custom permitted, even encouraged, a man who was heir of two different noble lines to take two wives, so as to perpetuate each line separately.  If not, one of the lines would die out, unless the patriarch produced an illegitimate heir or made some other such arrangement.  She concluded that Sirius Black had likely not been aware of this detail, since he had become estranged from his family before he came of age, and the knowledge was closely held among the noble families.

By unspoken consent the uncomfortable situation they all found themselves in was soon alleviated as Neville’s grandmother stood and thanked them for stopping by and they numbly responded their thanks for the invitation.  Without really noticing how they got there, the troubled couple found themselves once more in their living room.  Hermione saw that there was a dazed smile on Harry’s face as he sank into the sofa, and all the anxieties that she had overcome during the year in Mexico came rushing back with a vengeance as the thought that he might marry someone else besides her overwhelmed her.

“H … Harry?” she choked out in despair.  “What are we going to do?”

Belatedly, Harry overcame his own shock at the news to realize the effect it would have had on Hermione.  Desperate to calm her down, he jumped up and put his hands on her shoulders, trying to think of what to say.  In his panic, he blurted out, “Look, we don’t have to do anything right now, do we?  This isn’t something we have to worry about for the time being.  Let’s just forget about it and deal with it in ten years or so.”

Unfortunately, this was not what Hermione wanted to hear.  To her dismay, he had not reassured her in the slightest.  Gasping back her sobs, she tore herself away and shot him a look of betrayal and raced from the room.

“Wrong answer!” she shouted.  This definitive statement was punctuated by the slamming of the bedroom door, followed by muffled weeping within.

-oooOOOooo-

A/N This is where I originally intended to end this chapter.  However, I decided that a cliffhanger like that would be just too mean, so I’m continuing to the end of this scene.  Hence, this chapter is quite a bit longer than normal.

-oooOOOooo-

Hermione had no idea of how long she had been lying on the bed crying.  Her tears had long since run out and her chest ached.  She just couldn’t stem the flow of miserable thoughts coursing through her mind.  He’s going to marry another girl.  He’s going to marry another girl.  She’ll be prettier than me.  He’ll want to be with her more.  He’ll forget about me.  He’s going to marry another girl.  Sometimes her train of thoughts would turn to speculation.  Who will it be?  Ginny?  He said he still found her attractive.  Daphne?  She looks a bit like Fleur and he’s even more attracted to her.  What about Fleur?  Would he get her to leave Bill for him?  Stop it, that’s ridiculous!  How about Gabrielle?  She’ll probably grow up to look like Fleur and when he’s 30 the five year age difference won’t matter.  No, you’re just kidding yourself.  It will be Ginny.  It has to be Ginny.  He’s never gotten over her.  That’s why he was smiling.  He’ll marry perfect little Ginny and eventually forget about me.

As the afternoon turned into evening the room began to darken, matching her mood.  She had missed supper, but she wasn’t the least bit hungry.  The hole in her stomach had nothing to do with lack of food.  Then she began to think about going to bed.  Without Harry.  Then she started crying again.

Finally her rational side began asserting itself, and engaged in a debate with her panicked gut reaction emotional side.

‘He’s going to marry another girl.’

‘No he’s not, he’s going to marry you.  See the engagement ring on your finger?’

‘Well, he’s going to marry someone else later.’

‘How do you know that?  Did he say he wanted to marry someone else?’

‘He was smiling when he thought about it.  He must have been thinking about who else he wanted to marry.’

‘How do you know what he was thinking?  You didn’t stay around long enough to find out.’

Well, why didn’t he come in here and tell me then?’

‘You locked the door.’

‘He could have unlocked it if he wanted to.’

‘How is he supposed to know that you want that?’  Is he supposed to read your mind?’

‘Yes.’  Hermione winced.  This sounded really lame.  Her emotional side was weakening.

‘Hermione, grow up!’  Now this voice was sounding disturbingly like her mother, although it was something that her mother had certainly never, ever needed to say to her before.  ‘ When people lock doors it means they don’t want to be disturbed.  He’s respecting your wishes, and is probably sitting on the other side of that door feeling just as miserable as you are.’  Hermione felt herself beginning to waver.  For the first time she thought about what Harry might be feeling.  ‘What exactly is this supposed to accomplish?  Are you punishing him?  Or are you punishing yourself?’

‘Well, I’m certainly miserable.’  Now Hermione finally started to look at what she was doing.  She knew very well that this was not the way to settle disputes in a relationship.  She had read the book on successful marriages her mother had given her.  Nothing was ever solved by walking away and not talking.  That was the way marriages failed.  She had the horrible feeling that perhaps she wasn’t as ready to get married as she had thought.  It was time to change that.

Harry’s head sprang up as he heard the door open and Hermione stepped back into the living room.  His hair was a fright; he had evidently been running his hands through it constantly in his anxiety.  In fact, he just generally looked awful – probably about the same as she looked, Hermione found herself thinking.  His eyes – Hermione gasped as she caught the look of anguish and despair radiating from those blazing green eyes.  His body jerked as he tried to leap to his feet despite his being stiff from sitting in one position so long, and he stumbled against the end table before coming to a halt facing her.  She could see his hesitation; uncertain of what he should do to make this better.

“Hermione, I’m so sorry …”  Without being aware of moving Hermione found herself in his arms with her head buried in his shoulder, both of them holding tight to the other as if their lives depended on it.  “Hermione, I love you.  I don’t want anyone else but you.  You have to believe me.  I’d be lost without you.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  Hermione, too choked up to respond, nodded her head over and over again against his chest, her cheek rubbing against the wet spot on his shirt where it had soaked up her tears.  She could feel warmth spreading through her, replacing the cold ache that had filled her heart.

“It’s OK,” she eventually managed to say.  “I’m sorry too.  I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.  That doesn’t solve anything.”  She felt him relax and rest his head on top of hers and she pressed into him just a bit harder, tightening up her arms around his back.  They would get through this, just like they would get past any other obstacle life threw at them – together.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked tentatively.  She nodded again and pulled away slightly.  Deciding they ought to sit down for this she led him over to the sofa.  “Are you hungry?” he asked.  She hadn’t been before but decided that it would be a good idea, so they both moved into the kitchen to put together a light snack before they sat down to tackle this troubling issue.

“I just want to say right up front,” Harry began, clearly determined to avoid his previous mistake.  “That I can’t imagine falling in love with or marrying anyone but you.”

“Then why …” Hermione began, but Harry’s touch on her arm stopped her.

“Ten years ago, could you have possibly imagined being where we are now, and doing the things we’ve done?  We’re talking about something that’s at least ten years away.  So I can’t rule out the possibility that things could change enough between now and then that something like that could happen.  I admit that I don’t see how it could.  But you’re always the one who figures things out.  Do you think you could try to look at it with me?”

Hermione took a deep breath.  Given her emotional involvement in the question it would be difficult to analyze this dispassionately, but she would try.  She managed a weak smile and nodded, and he reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.

“There’s something I need to say right up front also,” she replied.  “I know that there are some cultures where multiple wives are common, but that’s not the kind of culture we were raised in.  It seems to me that a relationship like that demeans the women involved.  You and I are partners in this relationship, but as soon as you have a situation with one man and two women it becomes an unequal partnership.”  She looked at him for confirmation and he nodded that he understood.  “At least that’s the way I feel now.  You’re right that a lot of the things have changed in our lives since we learned about magic, but I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever be able to accept.”  She took another deep breath.  “However, I’m willing to discuss it as a hypothetical possibility.”

Harry reached out and put his arm around her and pulled her up against his side, and she laid her head on his shoulder.  “Thank you,” he responded.  “That’s all I would ask from you right now.”  He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts.

“OK.  I don’t think I’ll ever want to marry someone if I don’t love them,” he began.  She nodded her agreement.  “Let’s take Ginny as an example.”

“Could you use a different example?” she interrupted pleadingly.

“Oh, sure, of course,” he replied immediately with an apologetic look.  “You pick one.”

“Hmm, how about Eloise Midgen?”  Harry made such a face that she burst out laughing, easing some of the tension.  “All right, let’s use Luna, she’s safe.”

“How so?”

“She fancies Ron, not you.”

“Ah. Of course,” Harry said with a thoughtful expression, undoubtedly considering Luna’s behavior around Ron in light of this assertion.  “I should have figured that out myself.  Do you think Ron knows?”  Hermione just gave him an ‘are you kidding?’ look and he chuckled.  “So anyway how would I fall in love with Luna?  If I’m married to you I wouldn’t exactly be going out on dates.  I just don’t see how it could happen.”

“We never actually went out on a date but you fell in love with me,” Hermione pointed out.  Despite her reluctance, she was beginning to see a possibility.

“But that’s different, we got so close as friends, we … oh, I get it.  It would have to be someone who started out as a friend and then we grew really close to.”  Hermione raised an inquiring eyebrow at his use of the word ‘we’.  Harry picked it up.  “Yes, I mean we.  It would have to be someone we both were really close friends with.  Like we are with Fleur now.”

Hermione was pretty sure now where this was going.  “Or Ginny,” she said with a sinking feeling.  But Harry surprised her.

“I don’t think so,” he countered.  “I don’t want her to wait for ten years, hoping it might happen, when nothing might ever come of it.  It wouldn’t be fair to her and I wouldn’t do that to her.  Like I said, I’m not even going consider it for at least ten years, and it will probably never happen.  I don’t see her staying single that long.”  Hermione, relieved, agreed wholeheartedly.  Then she followed that thought to its logical conclusion.

“But that brings up another point, Harry.  We can’t let anyone know about this.  Not only Ginny, but lots of other girls who think there might be any possibility that you might have a second wife will be all over you.”

Harry groaned, and Hermione reached over and patted his arm consolingly.  They had both been sure that they wouldn’t have to deal with any of that this year, now that they were engaged.

“So we’re in agreement, then?” Harry summed up.  “We’re not going to think about it for at least ten years, and after that it would only be if there was someone who we both grew very close to.  And even then we’d talk about it and make sure we both agreed before we took it any further.”  Hermione nodded, and felt her spirits lighten for the first time since they had left the Longbottom home.  “We’ll tell absolutely no one about it for now, and if any girls suss it out early I’ll just refer them to you,” he finished with a little grin.  Hermione managed a small smile and he scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her while she leaned contentedly into him.  She couldn’t believe how exhausted she was.

“Want to go to bed early?” he offered.  Yes, she decided, that was exactly what she wanted to do.  She wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with him and hold each other all night long.

After they had removed their clothing and she was in her preferred position, tucked up under his arm with her head resting comfortably on his chest Harry spoke again.  “Hermione, I want to make sure you know that if nothing ever comes of this, if we never find someone who we’re both comfortable with having as a second wife, that would be OK.  I’d let one of the lines come to an end before I’d do anything to hurt you.  Or I’d give up one of the titles.  You mean more to me than any of that.”

Hermione felt the tears leaking from her eyes again, but they were from happiness this time, and the ache in her chest was a good one.  She squeezed him as hard as she could, and felt his arm tighten around her back.  “Thank you Harry.  I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

-xox-XOX-XOX-xox-

Previous Inspiration Setting Things in Motion Getting to Know the Grangers Initial Preparations Final Preparations and Bon Voyage A Year in Mexico, Part 1 A Year in Mexico, Part 2 A Year in Mexico, Part 3 An Unexpected Friend and Ally Joy and Sorrow Life Goes On Healing A Very Long Week Revelations Reactions Tales of Two Horcruxes Picking Up the Pieces Training Ron A Call to Arms (and Legs) Potter's Army Information, Both Useful and Disturbing Summer's End An Eventful Beginning Fall Term Part 1 - Happy Birthday Hermione Fall Term Part 2 - Many Things Are Revealed Fall Term Part 3 - On to Halloween Wedding Bells Romantic Interlude The Hogwarts Challenge The War Comes to Hogwarts Where It All Ends Epilogue Next