Harry Potter and the Secret Nurse

Chapter Three
Relics

Harry lunged forward to Black, to hug him, to embrace him, to feel that he was real. It didn't matter he faked his death, Harry would forgive him instantly, he just wanted to be with his Godfather again. Then he was stopped in his tracks as he realized Sirius was hung up on the wal
"A
"A portrait," said Harry.

The painting nodded at Harry.

"Look at the inscription at the bottom," said Sirius.

Hermione read it with Harry.

"What is it?" asked Dudley, "Some kind of inter-active TV?"

"Harry, look at the date," said Hermione, "It's a tribute."

The portrait nodded to his left and said, "There's more."

Down the hall, Harry read the portraits. They were all fallen members of the Order of the Phoenix.

The portrait explained, "Harry, I left instructions in case of my death for this portrait to be created to serve as a guide for you. Much like the portraits in Dumbledore's office. I thought, in some small way, it would be like having me around again."

Harry almost began to cry, "Why did you leave me? Why did you have to go?"

"Oh Harry, if you thought for a moment that if I had a choice I wouldn't be with you right now? I didn't have a choice Harry. People don't often get to choose the way they die."

Harry gave up, there was no point getting angry at a picture.

"I'm glad you're here," said Harry.

"Not as glad as I," said Sirius, "I wasn't expecting you until the end of summer at the earliest. I want you to know, Harry, that this place is yours to serve for you as long as you wish. I was created in part to give you instructions that when you come of age this house will be your property. You will own it."

"You... you're giving me this... house?" staggered Harry.

"There are instructions in my will, that you inherit this property, all my belongings, and what is left of the entire Black fortune. Gringotts bank has instructions for you to have sole access to the Black vault."

"You're doing this.. for me?" said Harry.

"It's the least I can do," said Sirius, "If I can't be there in person, I can do my best to care for you with what I have left."

"I.... thank you," said Harry.

"No, Harry, thank you," said Sirius, "For giving me someone I can pass my belongings to. That means more to me than you can imagine, and I am glad that the House and Fortune of Black can be used by someone who I know is good."

Harry touched the portrait and smiled. After a while Dudley got his attention.

"Harry? Next time YOU buy the beers." said Dudley.

Harry smiled and said, "You got it."

Dudley dropped off Harry's baggage and was ready to leave.

"Do you think you'll be back before the end oe sue summer?" asked Dudley.

"I doubt it," said Harry.

Dudley was feeling awkward.

"You know, I never did properly say good bye to when you went away," said Dudley.

"That's alright," said Harry.

Dudley shook Harry's hand and patted him on the shoulder.

"You watch out for yourself this year," said Dudley, "Don't let these magical beasties get you, and if you ever need some muggle muscle you give me a call. Me and the lads from Smeltings can come and give'em a good punch out."

Harry said he would do that and patted Dudley back. He shook is head as he watched Dudley easily pry the barracade off the door and leave.

"Damdest thing," said Harry, "I never thought we'd be friends."

Hermione took Harry's hand and kissed Harry on the cheek.

"People change," she said.

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand and he said, "People grow up."

Hermione took Harry's chin to look in his eyes for a moment, then she kissed him on the lips. After a while, Sirius cleared his throat. Harry and Hermione looked at the portrait.

"There's a few others that would like to meet you, Harry," said Sirius.

Crowding into Sirius' portrait for a chance to say hello, the other deceased members of the order came forward and greeted Harry and Hermione. Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn, Edgar Bones, Gideon Prewett, Dorcas Meadows, all of them budged around a little, then they made way for Harry's parents.

"Hello Harry," said his mother.

"I.... I've neverrd yrd your voice before," said Harry.

"We're very special portraits, Harry" said James Potter, "We were created for you. To serve as guides, as Sirius explained, for you and we assist the Order in any way that we can."

"I've have pictures of you but none of them ever spoke to me," said Harry.

"We're so proud of you, Harry," said Lilly, "If only you knew."

Harry embraced Hermione as he looked at his entire family, as close as he would ever get to them all.

"I never want to leave this place," said Harry.

Harry was so overjoyed to have Sirius and his parents together he spent the day talking with the portraits. By supper he insisted he and Hermione eat with their dinner plates in the hall facing them. During supper Sirius explained that Buckbeak was returned to Hogwarts as Harry noticed he was missing when he put Hedwig in the attic. Buckbeak was again under Hagrid's care, as the sentence of death was commuted. When they were through eating Hermione smelled her clothes.

"Harry, I need to get on the night bus and fetch my things if I'm going to stay here," she said, "It'll take hours to make my way back, probably."

"I think I'll be alright," said Harry.

"No Harry," said Sirius's portrait, "You should go with her."

"Yeah, meet the parents," said Benjy Fenwick.

"I'm sure they'll like you," said Lilly Potter.

"Ooh, it's an awful mad ride on that bus, though," scorned Edgar Bones.

Harry heaved a heavy sigh, then he smiled and said, "It'll be fun. Think of it as... a thrill ride."

Hermione ran up the stairs to freshen up a bit. When she reached the top of the stairs the portraits spoke to Harry.

"He's going to Wales," said Benjy Fenwick.

"Yes, he should know," said Lilly Potter, "He should see it for himself."

"Sirius, where did you keep it?" asked James Potter.

"Harry," said Sirius, "Go to the writing desk behind the stairs, there's an envelope there with an address on it."

Harry turned a few lights on with his wand to make his way. He found the desk. Sirius moved a few portraits over to guide Harry through the papers inside it.

"Not that one," said Sirius, "No, I think that's junk mail. Wait. That's the one."

Harry saw it was a dusty old envelope that had yellowed with age.

"What is this?" asked Harry.

"There's an address there close to where Hermione lives, I'm not really sure where exactly, I never knew the Grangers," said Sirius, "Just go there and the the envelope, you'll understand."

Harry only glanced at the envelope before he pocketed it. Gladly he greeted Hermione after she came down the stairs.

"I was just on the phone upstairs to mum," said Hermione, "I told her we're on our way."

"Great," said Harry and he took Hermione's hand, "We better get going."

"I just wish we weren't riding that bus on full stomachs," Hermione regretted.

Harry chuckled out loud and said farewell to the portraits, promising he would be back soon. Hermione used her wand to collapse the barricade so they would not have to pry the door open as powerful Dudley did when he left. Once they were gone the portraits spoke among themselves.

"They remind me of you two," said Sirius.

"Not at that age," said Lilly Potter.

"We didn't start dating until our seventh year," said James.

"They're so young," said Lilly.

"Still, even so young, it's for the better," said Sirius, "You saw how he was whenever she touched him?"

"It's a sight more effective than occlumency, I'll give you that," said Benjy Fenwick.

"Shouldn't we tell someone they were here?" asked Edgar Bones.

"I serve the Order," said Sirius, "But my first allegiance is to Harry. If the Order comes back we'll inform them, of course. But for now I think they deserve a little privacy."

.

A pop, a bang, and the screeching of tires skidded into Branbury Lane. Inside a three tiered bus Harry's voice could be heard arguing with the conductor.

"For the last time, Stan, you can stop calling me Neville," said Harry, "I'm not incognito anymore."

"Right, nudge-nudge wink-wink," said Stan as he escorted Harry and Hermione out the back of the Knight bus, "Sure thing, Mr. Longbottom. Good night."

As soon as Harry and Hermione stepped off Stan called to Ern to take off again, and the bus vanished on its insane journey. Their legs so wobbly they had to help each other stand, Hermione and Harry found themselves giggling and amused.

"Well you're the one who wanted a thrill ride," said Hermione.

"A thrill ride at a park is usually a couple of minutes," said Harry, "How long were we on that thing? An hour?"

"About," said Hermione, "You know, I could swear we were in Canada for a minute."

Finding his legs, Harry looked around the neighbourhood and came down with a funny look.

"This place is familiar," said Harry.

"Oh Harry, all suburbs looks the same," said Hermione as she pointed to a home, "Look, the moment I saw your home, the first thing I thought was it looked just like that one right over there."

"Yeah, you're right," said Harry as he examined the row of prefabricated homes, "The garage is a little off though."

Hermione led the way down the street to an older looking neighbourhood where the homes did not look identical at all. Finally they came upon a large four bedroom house with a two car garage. The stone wall surrounding again caused an odd feeling of familiarity with Harry, but he dismissed it.

"Wow, Hermione. You're wealthy," said Harry.

"Two practises on each end of town run by each of my parents paid for this," said Hermione, "It's still not as big as your house. The one you just inherited?"

Harry remembered and went, "Oh, right."

Hermione jogged up the steps and right away pushed the door open. Crookshanks came running to the door and Hermione picked him up to give him a little rub, then she let him outside. The house immediately had this feeling of a new smell when visiting someone's home, a proper home, with proper muggle smells to it. The home was filled with muggle artefacts. To the right Harry could see a family room with a large flatscreen TV and a very modern and expensive looking computer sitting on its own desk. It became apparent to Harry that Hermione's parents owned an awful lot of things.

"Mom! I'm Home!" Hermione called up the stairs as she kicked off her shoes.

"Hermione, your editor called," replied a woman's voice from upstairs, "She's in a big panic for you to send in your story before-"

"Before the deadline for the morning edition," Hermione cut her off, "Bloody hell, I forgot all about that."

"Your Editor?" asked Harry as he took off his shoes.

"Summer job," said Hermione, "It's a muggle paper. I was a proof reader for them for the past two years until this year they finally let me write my own articles."

"Hermione, I'm proud of you!" said Harry, "I bet you can give that Rita Skeeter a bloody good turn."

"She's the reason why I got so passionate about it," said Hermione, "Journalism should not be abused to make entertainment."

"What do you write about?" asked Harry.

"Us," said Hermione.

"US?" Harry exclaimed, "You tell muggles about the magical world?"

"Well I... sort of leave a few things out," said Hermione, "The struggle between the Death Eaters and the rest of the wizarding world is no different than the political struggle between aristocrats and the working class. A lot of wars have been fought on those grounds."

Right, thought Harry, and he figured Hermione must have been using pretty creative language to leave out the little parts about the fate of the world hinging on curses and magic spells and such. A slim and cheery woman with brown curly hair made her way down the stairs, Harry recognized her as Hermione's mother, who he briefly met in Diagon Alley some years ago while shopping for school supplies.

"OH, Hermione! You didn't tell me you were bringing a guest," said Mrs. Granger.

She ran up to Harry and took his hands, "You're Harry Potter, her poor boyfriend she was so worried about."

Hermione immediately looked a little embarrassed.

"Well, I am," said Harry, "It's good to see you again Mrs. Granger."

"Hermione, you must show him around the house right away," said Mrs. Granger

"We'll start with my room," said Hermione, "I have to get on my computer and send that article in."

As Hermione started up the stairs, Harry called to her, "Isn't that your computer over there?"

"What? That?" asked Hermione, "Don't be silly, Harry, I've got my own in my room. It's much faster that old thing."

"Old?"

"It looks fancy, but it has a phone modem," said Hermione, putting emphasis on "phone modem" as if it were something distasteful.

The house had a lot of bright and cheery colours, Hermione's room being no different. The room looked big enough to be a two person master bedroom, it was even bigger than Dudley's. Predictably there were three large shelves stacked from floor to ceiling with books, but there was more. Hermione had a large four poster bed covered in fluffy stuffed animals. There were a few Gryffindor banners hanging from the walls and ceiling. It wasn't as neat or clean as Harry would have expected, meaning it looked far more like a completely normal teenager's room.
Hermione sat down at a computer desk that blending into a large work table covered in all sorts of projects. There were rune sketches, some kind of sculpture, strange instruments both muggle and magical, and a picture of Hermione standing with Ron and Harry on Hogwart's grounds. Harry explored around the room and saw Hermione was into collecting action figures and dolls. One of them, a magical one that walked around with a broom looked just like Harry.

"Where did you get this?" asked Harry.

Hermione looked away from the computer screen for a moment and said, "That? There's a shop in Diagon Alley that makes them. There's one of Ron and myself over there."

Sure enough, Harry saw two more little figures sitting on the ledge of the book case kicking their legs off the end. Ron started doing handstands on the edge of the shelf as Hermione's figure stood there and yelled at him with a tiny voice so high Harry couldn't make out what she was saying. With a similar tiny voice the Ron figure yelled back at her.

Harry laughed and said, "Very realistic."

"Too realistic," said Hermione, "That's why I keep your figure apart from mine. I don't want my mother coming in here to vacuum and wander in on THAT."

The Hermione figure was waving to Harry, blowing him kisses, and Harry was waving back. Hermione said she got the idea from watching Ron's figure of Krum, and went to a shop to buy a Krum figure of her own. The store was sold out, but offered to make figures for Hermione of herself and two of her best friends for the cost of a single galleon, all they needed for reference was magical picture of each person.

Harry leaned close over Hermione as she sat at the computer and playfully asked, "Do they play kissy-face if you let them get too close?"

Hermione lightly elbowed Harry in the gut and said to never mind. When Harry asked about her article Hermione explained it was about racism existing within classes of wealth and poverty rather than just exclusively among people of different race, and when the two intermingle under the same roof, such as a school, there are racial clashes. Harry had no doubt it was Draco's attitude towards mudbloods that must have inspired that story.

"Harry, if I'm going to stay at your place this summer, you're going to need an internet connection," said Hermione.

"Can you even get an internet connection at a magical house?" asked Harry, "Imagine what that would be like when the cable guy shows up."

"Harry, there's plenty of magical people on the internet," said Hermione.

After Hermione emailed her article in to her editor, and checked to make sure it went through, she queued up several internet sites dedicated to magical internet pages and magical internet services. As she was describing how easy it was to get hooked up, she noticed Harry wasn't paying attention. Then she noticed the Ron figure was over where Harry should be, and Harry had put the Harry and Hermione figure together and was watching them. He laughed as they passionately embraced each other.

"Yeah, they do a lot more than just play kissy-face alright," said Harry.

"Harry, no!" called Hermione.

Hermione leaped out of her chair and Harry wrestled with her to keep her back as she giggled uncontrollably.

"He's at second base," teased Harry, "She stuck his hand up her shirt!"

Hermione was laughing out loud and told Harry to stop. Then she pushed Harry onto the bed and tickled his ribs, a certain weak spot of Harry's she secretly knew about. The Ron figuring was rolling around the shelf laughing so hard it couldn't stand up.

"I give! I give! I give!" laughed Harry.

Hermione grabbed Harry's head and gave him a kiss, then she got up to pick up her figures.

"It's cruel to keep them apart," said Harry.

Hermione went over to her closet and pulled out a Barbie home from the top shelf and put in the floor of the closet, then she placed the Harry and Hermione figures in front of it.

"Get a room you two," said Hermione.

They darted inside the dollhouse, and Hermione shut the closet door on them. Hermione took Harry's hand and pulled him off the bed. It was time to show Harry around the house. The upstairs guest room and master bedroom were very impressive, but not as much as the basement was. They had a us rus room with a pool table, darts board, a bar, and a much bigger television than the one in the family room.

"Does it have a DVD player?" asked Harry.

"Sure it does," said Mrs. Granger as she came down the stairs with a tray of tea and cakes, "Turn it on Harry, we have satellite TV now."

"Uh mum," Hermione said awkwardly, "If we want to make it back before midnight we better get going."

"Oh honey, it's so late," said Mrs Granger, "We see so little of you, why don't you and Harry stay overnight and head back tomorrow?"

Hermione turned to Harry.

"Honestly, I'm not up for another ride on that bus," said Harry.

For a second Hermione looked a little annoyed with Harry, which confused him, then she surrendered herself.

"We'll stay," said Hermione, "Harry can stay in the guest room."

"That's great!" said Mrs. Granger and she set the tray down.

There was something about the way Hermione said "staying in the guest room" that made Harry realize he just blew a chance to be intimate with Hermione again for at least another night. Was he thinking he was actually going to sleep with her in her parent's house? Internally kicking himself for being so short sighted Harry politely sat down on the couch a respectable distance from Hermione so Mrs. Granger wouldn't get any ideas.

Hermione shifted over to Harry and whispered , "She's not stupid, Harry. My mother knows we're dating."

This was a liberal attitude that caught Harry off-guard. He was so used to living under parental figures that were cold, distant, and strict, this warm and loving house was something foreign to him. Almost as strange as Hogwart's itself when he first arrived there. Hermione held Harry's hand as he was awed by the sight of a popular science fiction movie playing on 50 inches of high definition plasma TV in front of him.
Harry could tell that this house was filled with love, it was almost like a feeling in the very air itself. Hermione and her family were probably oblivious to it as they lived inside it, but to Harry it was like wading into a warm pool. He knew, even though he would be apart from Hermione that he would have no trouble sleeping. The whole day he had felt good, and had physically been apart from Hermione several times without coming under that spell of depression again.
For a while Harry wondered what it would be like, as he did many times before, to grow up in a place like this. He was a little distracted as to when he would kiss with Hermione again. Everything about her became so fascinating to him, to touch her skin, to smell her hair, and to feel her warmth pressed against him. Before he thought of her anymore, Harry thought he should just get to sleep or he would be staining the sheets.
The next morning when he woke up alone, Harry could feel that depressing haze coming over him again. Harry fought it off just by thinking about Hermione. "You won't have this day," Harry thought to himself, "I might feel bad now, but Hermione is here and I'm going to feel a lot better soon." With that defiance Harry got up and put his shirt on without buttoning it. He almost stumbled onto Hermione using the toilet when he reached the bathroom at the end of the hall.

"Sorry," said Harry.

Hermione said she was almost finished and told Harry to button up his shirt before her mother saw him. It would be uncomfortable explaining all the scars. When they were later through with breakfast Hermione announced it was time to get packed and go. Harry interrupted Hermione and said there was one more thing he wanted to do before they left. He pulled the envelope out of his pants pocket and explained it to Hermione that Sirius gave instructions to him about it. Hermione checked the address and asked her mother about the street.

"DeMarrey Court?" asked Mrs. Granger, "You know where it is. Remember the route you used to take to school? Three blocks down Islington and turn left instead of right, about two or three blocks down and you're there."

"Oh yeah, Elizabeth used to live in that area," said Hermione, "She's in university now. Her family moved to London."

Speculating over what this could be about, Harry and Hermione left the house ready for a pleasant walk.

"What do you think it can be?" asked Hermione.

"Buried treasure?" Harry teased as he looked at the envelope, "Hey! Maybe we should bring a shovel?"

"Maybe we should ask Dudley to reach in the ground with his fist and yank the treasure out," said Hermione.

As they strolled Hermione pointed to the houses of all her childhood friends and neighbours, the people she grew up with before she went away to the magical world, and caught Harry up on a life he never knew. It was a very warm and pleasant day. Only a little overcast came and went showing no threat of rain. Down Islington road, before Hermione turned left, she pointed out the grade school she attended that was further down the other side of the road. Harry read the address on the envelope, and counted down the numbers. They passed an empty lot and realized they couldn't find it.

"17 DeMarrey Court," said Harry, "It's an odd number, so it should be on this side of the street."

Hermione read the envelope herself and backtracked along the street, then they came upon the empty lot again.

"That one was number fifteen over there," said Harry.

Hermione looked at the empty lot and said, "Harry, I think this is it."

"There's no house here," said Harry.

"No but there used to be," said Hermione as she pointed to the ground, "Look, there's an old foundation here. It looks like it was torn down."

"Jeez, maybe there is buried treasurwn twn there," said Harry as he examined the exposed stone edges of the foundation, "Now I wish we did bring a shovel."

"Or a niffler," said Hermione, "I know something about this place. Someone told me about it a long time ago. I think there was a fire here, the place burned down. Harry, what does this mean? Why did Sirius ask you to come here?"

Harry opened the envelope and said, "Maybe this will explain it."

Harry recognized the handwriting on the envelope right away. It was Sirius'. There was no name with the address and no return address written on it. With the paper inside unfolded, Harry read the letter out loud.

"Dear James and Lilly, I am so honoured that you have chosen me to be the Godfather off-"

Harry stopped and he dropped the letter.

"My God, it's a letter to my parents," Harry said with a shaky sound in his voice.

The paper started to blow away and Hermione caught it.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Don't you get it?" said Harry, "This... this was my home. This was where I lived right after I was born. That's why it's gone now. The house was destroyed when Voldemort tried to kill me. You said yourself someone told you there was a fire."

Harry dropped to his knees as Hermione sat next to him with her arm around him. The sun beamed down on them as though refusing to comply with the melancholy of the moment.

"Do know what this means, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"We lived in the same neighbourhood," said Hermione.

"We could have been friends," said Harry as he nearly cried, "We could have grown up together!"

"We are friends Harry," said Hermione.

"But we could have gone to grade school together," said Harry, "Our families could have had holidays together. We've could have spent our entire lives together!"

"Harry, who knows what could have happened with us?" said Hermione, "You certainly would have been happier with your parents. But we could wound up hating each other in grade school. I was pretty bossy back then you know."

Harry chuckled and said, "You're pretty bossy now, but I love you anyway, you know."

Hermione held Harry's head and kissed him, then Harry snapped out of it.

"Ah hell, I'm not going to let this get me down," said Harry and he stood up, "My parents wanted me to see this, and now I know. I'm glad I know. I'm glad to know this place. This was my home, and looked like it was in a pretty good neighbourhood."

Hermione ruffled Harry's hair and then asked, "Who do you think owns it, now?"

"I have no idea," said Harry.

They sat on the grass for a moment, enjoying the day. Hermione spoke to Harry for a while, getting acquainted with the friends she grew up with in the neighbourhood, where they are now and what schools they're attending. Harry wondered what it would have been like to know them all. An old Asian man across the street noticed Hermione and called out to her.

"Mr. Wakashi," Hermione replied and waved.

Hermione explained to Harry Mr. Wakashi was one of her father's patients whom she met at the dental office.

"What are you doing here, girl?" asked Mr. Wakashi.

"Oh, just enjoying the weather," said Hermione, "Is this where you live?"

"Yes," said Mr Wakashi, "You tell your father the implants are doing well and feel solid as a rock."

The little Asian man tapped the side of his mouth and grinned a perfect white-toothed grin.

"Mr. Wakashi," said Harry, "Can I ask how long have you lived here?"

"Sure boy, what's you're name?" asked Mr. Wakashi.

"Harry, sir."

"Let's see, I've lived here for twenty years this year," said Mr. Wakashi.

Hermione and Harry looked at each other.

"Sir, do you remember the house that used to be across the street?" asked Harry.

"Oh my," said Mr. Wakashi, "That was... twelve.. no.. fifteen years ago. Oh I couldn't forget that. Tragic, half the house blew up. The other half was torn down later. Why do you ask?"

"Uhm, I'm Harry Potter," said Harry, "I used to live there."

Mr Wakashi was shocked.

"Oh my! Little Harry?" said Wakashi, "I'm sorry lad, I thought you were killed in the blast! Oh, see it now, you look just like your father. I thought I recognized you."

It was a pleasant change for someone Harry never met to recognize him without looking at his scar.

"You knew my parents?" asked Harry.

"Yes," said Mr. Wakashi, "I went to your baby shower. Hey! I've got something you want to see. Come inside the house."

With a very odd sense of curiosity Hermione and Harry sat in the kitchen and waited for Mr. Wakashi. With a cheerful grin he came in announcing he had found it and dropped a massive family album on the kitchen table in front of them. Immediately he turned to a page of the day Harry parent's moved into their home.

"Here's a shot of the whole house," saidWakaWakashi.

Harry looked at it for a moment, then he asked if Mr. Wakashi had the original negatives. He wanted to have a copy and offered to take it down to the Photoshop and pay himself.

"You don't have to do that, lad," said Mr Wakashi as he pulled the photo out of the plastic cover, "I have a colour scanner. I can make a copy in just a few seconds."

Mr. Wakashi went up to a machine that looked like a small photocopier and put the photo inside it. He programmed the copier to blow up the image to fill a legal sized sheet of paper and printed it out.

"Here you go, on glossy high quality paper," Mr. Wakashi said proudly.

Harry smiled and said, "This is wonderful, thank you."

"Oh it's the least I can do," said Mr. Wakashi, "I knew your parents. They were good, no, they were wonderful people. I'm very glad to see you're still with us, Harry, and happy to see the company you keep."

Mr Wakashi winked to Hermione.

"Mr. Wakashi, do you know who owns the land these days?" asked Hermione.

"I always wondered why they never rebuilt that property," said Mr. Wakashi, "I heard the land was tied up in probate, I never understood why until just now."

Mr Wakashi pointed to Harry.

"His inheritance," asked Hermione, "Can they do that?"

"As long as it was in his parent's will," said Mr. Wakashi, "Probate would allow no one to touch the land until Harry was old enough to receive it."

With their pleasant visit done, Harry and Hermione returned to Hermione's home to pack. Harry helped Hermione with her books as she uncharacteristically stuffed and jammed her clothes into a suitcase. She heaved the heavy bag down the stairs oblivious that a bra strap was dangling out its side. Crookshanks willingly climbed into his carry cage as he seemed to know it meant returning to the magical world.

"So who are you staying with in London?" asked Mr's Granger

Harry stred red a little and was interrupted by Hermione.

"Harry's Godfather, Sirius Black," said Hermione.

"Plenty of adults around?" Mrs. Granger asked cautiously.

"Oh yes," said Hermione, "Members of the ministry, even professors from our school come and go all the time."

"Ah-ha! That's why you're so anxious to go," said Mrs. Granger, "A little extra studying. Harry, don't let Hermione squander her summer in books! Go out and have some fun!"

"I will, Mrs. Granger," Harry promised.

Hermione waved good-bye to her mother as the taxi pulled away.

"The bus depot," said Hermione.

"No wait, skip that," Harry interrupted, "Cabby, can you drive all the way to London?"

"That'll cost you fifty bob, that," said the cabby, "I'll need to see the money before we go."

Harry took fifty pounds out of his wallet.

"Harry, no," said Hermione.

"What?" asked Harry, "I can afford it. It cleans me out until we get to Gringotts but I'm just not in the mood to go from bus to train and bus again. Not with all this baggage."

Harry handed the money to the cabby and told him to drive on. When they arrived at the home the portraits greeted Harry and Hermione, a much different welcome than the screaming and screeching they were used to from the Black portraits.

"My mother is still hiding in one of the upstairs portraits," said Sirius, "She's afraid that Dudley is going to come back and take another whack at her."

Harry was about to talk to Sirius and show him the photo he picked up but Hermione pulled Harry away up the stairs. Yanking on his shirt Hermione quickly marched to the room where Harry stayed last year with the Weasley boys. She tossed her luggage carelessly aside, set Crookshanks loose from his cage, then grabbed the luggage Harry was carrying and flung it away too.

Stunned, Harry went, "Hermione, what are-"

Hermione didn't let Harry finish and shoved him aggressively onto the bed. Not taking her eyes off of Harry she climbed on top of him while pulling her jacket off, tugging hard at the sleeves. When her hands were free she grabbed Harry's head and kissed him with an almost angry passion. She didn't come up for air for nearly a whole minute.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?" said Hermione, "You know I've wanted to make out with you since we left last night."

"Well I just wanted to say hello to-"

"Shut up and kiss me," Hermione demanded.

Harry complied, not that he had much of a choice, but he figured he could talk to the portraits tomorrow, they weren't going anywhere. Hermione only paused to remove Harry's glasses, then she kissed him for the longest time. When she was done with his face, she moved over to his ear and breathed heavily into it, then she tongued him just to feel him squirm. There was an odd rumbling coming from Hermione's chest as Harry felt she was getting more aggressive while licking his neck. Hermione was breathing very heavy like something was wrong, then she stopped and got up to look Harry close to his face.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry.

Hermione only looked longingly at Harry with a deep desire in her eyes, her mouth opened slightly and Harry saw something strange.

"Hermione, do you have fangs?" asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head.

"Canines," said Hermione, "Well, felines, actually. They're a leftover from when the poly juice potion went wrong for me and turned me into a cat person. They grow every time I get aroused."

"Oh," said Harry.

"Harry, can I... bite you?" Hermione pleaded, "HARD?"

"What happens to me if you do?"

"Nothing," said Hermione, "It's not like being a werewolf or anything. Well, it is but I.. just want... you wont be hurt or turn furry or anything."

Harry shook his head. Hermione pulled Harry's shirt open so hard she popped a few buttons off. Whatever was happening, Harry felt like he was not in control anymore. That didn't bother him. Hermione pulled Harry's shirt open to completely expose the right side of his neck downdown past his shoulder. She paused to smell Harry's hair, then licked his neck. With her fangs right against Harry's skin she felt around for just that right spot where to neck met the shoulder, then she embraced Harry to hold him still and bit down hard.
This overwhelmed Harry like nothing he felt before. He fought off magic spells that bewitched the minds of most powerful wizards, but whatever Hermione was doing made him completely helpless in her arms. His hands dropped away from her back. Earlier he was trying to inch his hands as close to Hermione's breasts as much as he dared to, now they just plopped limply onto the bed sheets.
On the outside, Hermione was returned to normal from the poly juice fiasco, but what she never told anyone was on the inside she retained many animal traits. While making love to Harry, she went feral, and bit Harry until he fell unconscious.
Harry was woken up by the sound of Hermione carrying an enormous book into the room. She dropped it down on the bed and its mass made the mattress bounce a little.

"Found the library?" asked Harry as he sat up.

"Good Lord, it's enormous," said Hermione, "I wouldn't mind owning this house myself. Did you know Black's library has at least fourteen books that I know Hogwart's keeps in the restricted section?"

"That doesn't surprise me," said Harry, "The Black family dabbled in the dark arts."

"It's not all because they're dark arts, Harry," said Hermione as she held up another enormous book she was looking at earlier.

“THE CONNUBIUM CHARMS BOOK?!? The Connubium Charms book?” Harry yelled, “Sexual pleasure spells?”

Harry grabbed the book and inside was greeted by pornographic images of spells used for the purpose of sexual gratification.

"It's all yours, Harry," said Hermione, "No one can take it from you, but I wouldn't recommend taking it to Hogwarts."

"Too bloody right I wont. I would need another trunk to make room for it," said Harry and he hefted the book a little, "This must weigh thirty pounds."

As Harry flipped through the pages, Hermione said, "Delectatio is in there."

Harry stared at her.

"I looked," said Hermione.

"I thought Delectatio was a rumour," said Harry.

"I think the seventh years have been kicking it around themselves," said Hermione, "It's a NEWT level spell. It's restricted from lower year students for obvious reasons."

"Did... did you want to give it a try?" asked Harry.

"Later," said Hermione, making it sound like she was serious about considering it, "I want to try these first."

Hermione opened the book she dropped on Harry's bed and revealed it had healing spells. There was a chapter on dermatology and Hermione was going to use it to erase Harry's self-inflicted scars.

"It says here the spells has a pleasant tingling feeling," Harry said with relief, "Well that's good news."

"Take your shirt off," said Hermione, "I want to practice a little on you."

Normally Harry would never let someone practice OWL level spells on him, especially ones that could turn your skin inside out if done wrong, but Hermione was a prodigy at making new spells work. She sat behind Harry and felt his naked back with her fingers trying to decide which scar to practice on. For the first time she noticed there wasn't just razor scars, but dozens of ones that looked older. She found a fresh one and got started.

"Deleo Inflecto," Hermione said with practiced voice.

A strong orange glow appeared at the end of her wand. The spell went into Harry skin and he thought it almost vibrated with a lovely warm sensation that seemed to spread through his whole body. Hermione could see goose bumps on Harry's skin. She worked on one scar for a bit, and it seemed to disappear but after she stopped running the wand over it, it re-appeared but less noticeably. Hermione figured this was due to her lack of experience with the spell.

"Harry this might take a while," said Hermione.

"I don't mind," said Harry with his eyes closed, "This is nice."

From lunch until suppertime, Hermione worked diligently on Harry's scars, slowly vanishing them one by one. After taking a break and getting something to eat, Hermione took stock of the pantry and suggested a few things they should go shopping for the next day. Then in the evening Harry sat on the staircase listening to the portraits in the main hallway. His shirt was off, as Hermione sat on the step up behind Harry to continue working on his scars.

"That's good practice, Hermione, you might make a good healer someday," said the portrait of Sirius Black.

"I've thought about that, seriously, I have," said Hermione, "But I'm not as good as Madame Pomfrey. She would have had these scars gone by now with a single wave of her stick."

"It just takes practice," said Lilly Potter, "You're lucky to have a subject to practice on. It's a noble art, Hermione."

Hermione was looking low onto Harry's back and was looking concerned.

"Harry, one of these scars just won't erase no matter how hard I try," said Hermione.

"Back there?" asked Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione," I've tried five times, it just won't go."

"Which one is it?" asked Harry.

Hermione ran her finger across the scar.

"Oh, that one," said Harry, "Don't worry about that one, that's the Philosopher's Stone one."

"What?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "That's the part of my back that hit the stone steps when professor Quirrel knocked me down and tried to strangle me to death."

"Oh my."

"Yeah, there's a bunch you shouldn't waste your time with," said Harry, "I guess I should point them out. (Pointing to his left arm.) That's when I fell off my broom from a hundred feet up. That scar on the back of my hand is from serving Umbridge's detention. (Pointing to his right arm.) That's when I broke my arm, remember your hero vanished my bones? This one was fighting of Aragorn's off spring. That scar there is a bite from the Basilisk, that one will never come off. That one up there was when we crashed the flying car into the Whomping willow. This other one was when you and I got kicked around by the Whomping willow. This one is the Tri Wizarding Tournament. Let's see...Quiddich... Quiddich... Quiddich... running from Dudley's gang back in grade school... and that was just last month when we fought those Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic."

Hermione let this history of physical abuse set in and said, "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"You really need to be held," said Hermione.

"No argument there," said Harry.

Hermione put her wand down and embraced Harry from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. Without warning the front door of the house opened.

"Oh cripes, the Order," said Harry.