Vox Corporis: Rebirth

Vox Corporis

Chapter 71: At the Grangers



Original story by -> MissAnnThropic

http://fanfiction.portkey.org/story/6586/1

Email: miss_annthropic@yahoo.com



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



Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted.



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



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



NOTE 2: I have received some grief in the reviews of the two previous chapters regarding my inclusion of a relationship between Ron and Luna. Each of these chapters have been sent to the original author for her view and comment long before I ever post them and so far, she has not commented, either way, about this particular diversion. I am sorry that some of you have taken issue with it…but it is my belief that Ron’s relationship with whoever is mine to speculate on and is neither an insult to Ann’s work nor disruptive to the storyline. I happen to believe that Ron is entitled to a happy life. God knows, he’s been through enough.

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From Chapter 70 – “The Cats”



“You’ll never hurt me, Harry. You’re my protector and my lover, and you’re going to be my husband. That’s all I can ask of this life.”



As their breathing slowed, to match the other, Harry looked at his lover and his friend “ ‘Mione? We’re still going to your parents’ house next summer, aren’t we?”



“Of course, Harry. We have a promise to keep.”



“Good.” Harry was bursting with happiness inside as he felt that necessary part of his plan click into place. It was going to work and he was very excited.



As Hermione Potter (as she was always thinking of herself now) slipped into the twilight before sleep, she thought about Luna and Ron. They were going to try to become animagi too. Luna seemed to think that it was a great way to bring a couple closer together and that meant that Ron would come around to her way of thinking eventually. They’d discover the possibilities, if their animals were the same species. Hermione had helped out with that last bit by giving Luna all of her notes and specifics on the tokening process, etc. Hermione felt that the Ron and Luna deserved every help that she could give them. Love is a good thing to help grow.

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Four seasons came and went with only the briefest letters from Hermione. All she said was that she and Harry were safe and happy and that they had not forgotten the promise to come home eventually. Jake and Miranda worried. It was unlike their daughter to be so inattentive to home and family. Then, one warm morning, a snowy white owl landed on the railing of the porch and knocked on the screen with its beak.



Miranda ran to the porch door. “Jake! It’s Harry’s owl. She has another letter for us!”



Jake closed the distance from the kitchen to his wife and helped her get the message tube from the owls’ leg. Miranda took the note from her husband, as he handed it to her.



Dearest Mom and Dad,



Harry and I are finally coming home. By the time you get this note, we’ll be getting ready to show up. Look for us in the back yard.



I love you very much,



Hermione

It was late July. The air was warm and wonderful and the on-shore breezes were keeping the town cool. The back yard of the Granger home was shaded and secluded – a perfect place to apparate to.



They closed their eyes and felt the indescribably squeeze of apparition. Harry and Hermione found themselves the back yard of Hermione’s parents’ home. Southern-most England was so much warmer and sunnier than Godric’s Hollow. There were still thin patches of ice under the leaves in the deep woods around Godric’s Hollow where the sun couldn’t penetrate the forest shade. Still, the Hollow was where Hermione called home now.



Hermione bounded towards the back door of Miranda and Jake Granger’s house and went inside. They knew now, perfectly well, that their daughter could come and go in the blink of an eye and it didn’t faze them anymore. Harry was more leisurely in his stroll to the screen door, because he knew that Hermione deserved the chance to greet her parents first. After all, she had been out of contact with them for some time and Hermione was certainly one to want to keep her parents up to date with what was going on in her life.



Except that last bit. Where we fought Tom. Couldn’t have contacted her parents then. Harry wasn’t sure whether he should feel guilty about it or not. No, probably not. Hermione would think I was being foolish or at least overly worried for her.



“Harry!”



Jake’s booming voice startled him. He had been lost in thought about what he could and couldn’t say to Hermione’s parents. By the time he reached the screen door, Jake and Miranda were already coming out to find him. Hermione had her arm around her mother. It was funny, but the older Hermione got, the more like her mother she looked.



In fact, the only difference, Harry knew, was that Hermione would look young – as if she were in her late 20’s or early 30’s for a very long time. Probably until she was close to 100 years old. Wizards and witches lived a very long time and only towards the end of their lives, did they begin to look their ages. Hermione’s parents would be long since dead by then.



“Harry? You ok, son? You’re awfully quiet. You didn’t even come in to say hello!”



“I’m sorry, Jake. I apologize. Just some stray thoughts that I had to shake off. It’s hard to conceive of the fact that we don’t have to worry about Tom anymore.” Harry lied. He really didn’t want to tell either Jake or Miranda about what he was really thinking. Since neither of them was an accomplished legelimens, Harry didn’t have to worry about either of them cracking into his real thoughts. Hermione, on the other hand, was skilled at reading her husband (fiancée? They were too close and to devoted for that to apply, he thought). Harry couldn’t keep anything from her, nor did he ever want to.



Jake was no fool, however. Harry was hiding something. Something big, if Jake read him correctly. Harry had said that wizards and witches could often reach each other’s thoughts using magic, but Jake was pretty sure that there was something significant going on in his soon-to-be son-in-law’s head. Hermione had told her parents often enough in years previous that Harry had carried the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders and they kind-of believed her until the night that they were summoned to St. Mungo’s hospital. After that, Jake and Miranda no longer questioned what Harry or Hermione had gone through. They knew only that it had been truly horrible and that Hermione had been in the thick of it, with her lover beside her.



Lover? Jake couldn’t tell whether they were or not, though he was pretty sure that it didn’t matter. Hermione had moved out of their home and had moved in with Harry over seventeen months ago, to wherever they were living. Harry had told them only that his parents had owned a home in southern Scotland and that he and Hermione intended to make that their home, at least until they needed more room. Actually, the person who had done the moving was a small elf named Dobby, who had come to their house one day; announced who he was, and had packed up all of Hermione’s things in a couple of blinks of the eye. Miranda had found him to be totally adorable, and she wished that the little elf had stayed around to talk – for he seemed to know a great deal about Harry and Miranda still had questions which burned in her about Harry’s background.



Harry was standing with his back to the screen door of the porch; staring at Hermione as she stood next to her mother, Miranda. It was not an obnoxious stare, but rather the one that an adoring spouse casts upon his or her beloved. Harry was watching Hermiones’ face – her eyes – Jake thought. Jake caught the moment that Hermiones’ eyes locked onto Harry’s. It was amazing to see. There was a beautiful interplay of smiles and secret knowledge that only two people who are very, very much in love can have.



His daughter – his only daughter – moved to Harry’s side automatically and he put his arm around her waist and drew her to him. It was such a comfortable and easy movement that Jake would have sworn that the two of them had been together a very long time. Six years. Isn’t that what Hermione had said? She was sure that she had loved him for most all of the last six years. Maybe that’s enough. Seems like just yesterday when Hermione had sent her first letter back from Hogwarts, talking all about Harry and how he wasn’t the ‘boy-who-lived’ that was talked about in so many of the wizarding books, but rather a real, genuine, down-to-earth, sensitive, loving young boy whom Hermione had become quite fond of almost from the beginning.



Jake looked at his wife, Miranda, and at the two youngsters who stood, inseparable, on the first step leading up to the screen door. “Shall we go in? I think Miranda has some ice tea ready and some of her lemon cookies. She’s been dying to ask you if you’ve heard anything more about what’s going to happen and whether you’re planning on returning to school.”



“Oh, Jake, hush. If Harry and Hermione want to talk about their plans, I am sure that they will. If not, we’ll just have to be patient. They’ve never kept us in the dark for too long before.”



The four of them walked up the few stairs to the screen door and went inside to the cool living room. The room was done in very tasteful muted greens and browns, with the occasional flair of golden brown. Harry thought it was something like a jungle motif that he had seen in a muggle decorating shop in downtown London one time.



Harry and Hermione immediate snagged the love seat. Harry sat down first and Hermione curled up onto his lap. Jake smiled to himself as he saw Harry’s hand caress Hermiones’ lower back and her bottom. It lingered there for a moment, making small circles and squeezing intermittently. Hermione made no move to dislodge his hand, but rather seemed to welcome it.



Finally, Harry’s wandering hand wrapped around her belly and drew her even more closely to him.



Seeing that display of casual but loving sexual attention convinced Jake that if Hermione and Harry weren’t yet fully intimate, they were pretty close to it – closer than most soon-to-be 17 year olds had any right to be – except that these two were definitely not your ordinary teenagers and the rules just didn’t seem to apply to them. There just weren’t many other teenagers who had their own home together and could make a life for themselves the way these two could.



Miranda, once she had brought the silver tray with tea and cookies into the living room, settled herself down on the sofa, next to her husband. For a moment, Miranda was lost in looking at her daughter, who was so happily safe in the arms of her one true love.



“It’s good to have the two of you here. I can’t believe that it’s been a year and a half since we were all together at Berti’s.” Being in the hospital, sitting watch over your daughter as she struggles to heal and regain consciousness didn’t really count, Miranda thought.



Hermione had laid her head on Harry’s chest and was too comfortable to want to sit up properly. “I know, mum. We know it’s been a long time. We’re both sorry about that. After everything that happened and then being at the hospital for almost thirty days – well, we just wanted to go home. Harry and I needed the time together, alone.



“But you’ve been gone almost eighteen months – well, seventeen months. What have you been doing? We’ve barely heard from you at all.”



Hermione looked at her mother sympathetically. “We’ve been traveling a little and spending time in the Village, and getting to know the countryside a bit better. Mostly though, we’ve spent long days talking and just being together.”



Her mother looked at the way that Hermione was sitting on Harry’s lap. It spoke of long practice at finding just the right position for couple to be most comfortable. She smiled as she caught Hermione’s eye.



“What about school?” Jake asked, as he watched the young couple.



“Harry and I have decided to return to school in the fall and then we’re off to Universitatis Cantembridgia together next year.”



Harry piped up. “We’re not fussed about our NEWT’s this fall or in the spring. With all the extra work we had to do to in order to beat Tom, we were able to test out of our courses last year, which was good because we couldn’t have handled being back there. Neither one of us was ready emotionally to handle it.”



Slowly, Harry and Hermione alternated turns as they told her parents about what they had gone through. Not every detail, but enough so that Jake and Miranda had a clear picture of what Hermione and Harry had faced during their time together in school.



Miranda and Jake sat, stunned, as they listened to Harry describe the horror with which he and Hermione had contended. They couldn’t believe that Harry could sit, so calm (outwardly), and talk about something so incredibly evil.



Hermione, on the other hand, knew that Harry had been able to cope with Tom and all of his evil because they had been together and because they had never, ever given up hope. They won, she believed, because they had relied on each other’s love.



The nightmares were still happening, though, and she thought that they might for a long time. Harry was still waking in the middle of the night with terrible tremors and, sometimes, screaming Hermiones’ name. After each nightmare, he always held her that much tighter, grateful to whatever higher power had brought her through the fight alive and in one piece. Harry remembered saying to Hermione, just before Christmas “I’ll just look forward to the day when I don’t have to wonder if my dreams mean something bad is happening to the people I care about.” That day had come, when he had destroyed Tom once and for all, but the nightmares hadn’t gone away yet. He wondered whether they were trying to tell him something. Draco was still out there, somewhere…



Hermione had not unscathed emotionally, either. She, too, had terrible dreams of loosing Harry that she was still getting over. Being in his arms, physically close to him often, really had helped and that is why she was curled up around Harry on the love seat in her parents’ living room. She needed him.



“Mum? Dad?” It was Harry speaking “please…say something. Tell me what you’re thinking. At least, don’t just sit there.” There was an edge to Harry’s voice. The not-so-subtle imprecation that he did not wish to be judged for what he had done by them. He couldn’t know, because he wouldn’t pry into their minds, that judging him was the last thing that they would ever do. He had saved their daughter, against terrible odds, and with courage that no one else could match.



“It’s…..it’s ok, Harry.” Miranda faltered. “We understand. Ron told us, finally, what had happened and why you two did what you did. We’re just still amazed and so thankful that you two survived!” Her eyes were swimming with tears. She had not really let out the fear and pain she had felt over the many months that they had been in hiding. She suddenly looked very, very frail and scared. She hadn’t wanted to admit to herself how much not being able to protect her daughter had gotten to her and what it had cost her, emotionally. She was coping with the fact that her daughter had been returned to her, hail and hearty, with a soon-to-be husband in tow. It was a lot to manage.



For Jakes’ part, he had somehow known that if it were possible to survive, that Harry would bring his daughter through the fight and that everything would be all right. He didn’t, couldn’t, expect that there would not be scars; he was too much of a pragmatist for that and he had been through the military. He knew what fighting was all about.



“Harry, you’re sitting there with my only daughter wrapped around you, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Miranda and I are not yet used to the idea that you two are, essentially, married, with all of the responsibilities that go along with that status. It is disconcerting to us, and yet we know that if any two people have earned the right to experience love and peace, it’s you two.”



Harry looked at Jake and squeezed Hermione, who had been silent through the entire conversation. “I love your daughter. There is no power in the world that could keep me from marrying her.”



Hermione tilted her head, so that she could look Harry in the eye “I love you, too, Harry.” Her voice was low, but her eyes sparkled with love and desire for the boy-who-lived. It was the most natural thing for Harry Potter to crane his neck and kiss the love of his life. He had never kissed her openly in front of her parents before, but somehow he felt that it was right, now, to do so.



Jake said. “Do I need to remind you both that your mother and I are not ready for grand-children yet?”



Hermione sighed. “We know, Dad. When the time comes, we’ll take precautions, until Harry and I are ready to start a family. It’s not going to be for a while, I don’t think.”



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The conversation, after Jack and Miranda witnessed the kiss, ebbed. There was not a lot more to say between the two couples. Hermiones’ parents had the confirmation that they were expecting and Harry and Hermione had the openness and understanding that they needed. In many ways, the going-home part of the trip was already over for Hermione. She was at peace because of the fact that her parents knew and had accepted her status as the soon-to-be wife of Harry Potter. It made talking to her mother easier and less constrained.



Jake had adopted a new stance towards Harry. Perhaps it was because of what Harry had done to protect Hermione or because of Harry’s steadfastness towards his promise to love and always cherish Hermione. Harry didn’t know, nor did he care. All that mattered was the fact that Jake was treating him as an equal – if not in age, then in responsibility and actions.



The day passed into night and when it was time to retire for the evening, Hermione kissed her parents good night and then took Harry by the hand and let him to her old bedroom. She didn’t need to say anything. She knew her parents loved Harry and supported both of them in the love they had found for each other.



She wasn’t completely daft, though. She knew enough to lock the door behind her. There was nothing to be gained by being obvious about things.



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One of the things that Jake and Miranda had delighted in was seeing Harry’s animagus form again. They marveled over his power and the feel of him as he prowled around the kitchen. Miranda took great pleasure in scratching him behind the ears and between his powerful front legs. However, it was a tame reaction in comparison to seeing Hermione change into her lioness form. Miranda gushed over how beautiful a cat she was and how sleek her coat was while Jake whooped and hollered about how powerful she was and how much fun it must be to be able to change into something so amazing.



Hermione was just changing back into a witch when Harry thought of something. “Hey Hermione? I just thought of something we could do. Now that we’re not being watched by the Order or anyone else, wanna go for a run? There are some Crown lands not too far from here…” Harry left the idea hanging.



“Oh Harry! That would be fun. Do you want to take a picnic?”



“That would be wonderful, Hermione. Maybe your folks could come with us?” Hermione looked at her folks and they both nodded enthusiastically.



“How do you want to go? Harry and I could apparate, even though we’re not yet of age. Harry turns seventeen tomorrow anyway and gains his majority, as well as his apparition license. I’ll be seventeen in September, but I don’t expect to be harassed by the Ministry between now and then. However, we couldn’t take you with us. We could drive or take the Knight Bus...”



“How about we drive, dear,” Miranda said. “It’s just easier and then no one can get in trouble.”



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The nice thing about being a part of a family, Harry thought, is that sometimes someone else is willing to take care of things. Harry found himself sitting in the love seat in the living room, with nothing to do but wait. Miranda had volunteered to pack the picnic and Hermione was upstairs, getting changed into her swimsuit. Not that she needed to, really. Personal transfiguration was inwardly focused magic, as far as he could tell, but Hermione was being careful. There was no reason to be annoying Mafalda Hopkirk of the Improper Use of Magic Office for the Ministry of Magic over something so mundane.



Just as Harry was contemplating getting up, Jake walked in and sat down opposite to him. “It’s good to have you home, Harry. I never really got a chance to thank you for what you did for Hermione and for us.”



“Jake, what I did, I did for Hermione’s sake. I love her more than I can tell you and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her, and by extension, for you and Miranda.”



Jake looked genuinely touched by that comment and he sat back for a moment. “Harry, when we went into hiding, you gave us a bag….”



“Jake – I meant it then and I mean it now. Keep it. It’s yours. Use it to build up your practice again or something. I come into my full inheritance tomorrow and I suspect, though I can’t prove it, that whatever I gave you was probably a drop in the bucket in comparison to what I will receive control over tomorrow. I refuse to be worried about pounds or galleons or anything. I have everything I want in the three of you.”



Jake could tell that Harry meant it and that he was likely to take offence if Jake tried to return the money that Harry had given them, just before they were taken into hiding. Because of the relatively short period of time that they had actually been in hiding, combined with frugal living, and some careful financial investments in the spring, Jake had made back everything they had had to spend while in hiding and had added just over ten percent to the total. If Harry was serious, and there was no reason to believe that he wasn’t, Jake had enough money sitting in the black bag in his study that he could pay off their house and set monies aside for retirement besides. They would have the financial freedom to do a great deal of good for the rest of their lives.



“Can I at least pay for Hermione’s wedding dress, when that day comes?” he asked Harry tentatively.



Harry grinned back at his soon-to-be father in law and nodded. “She’d love that, Jake.”



Jake promised himself that whichever dress Hermione chose for her wedding, he’d pay for it. She and Harry deserved at least that much. Maybe he’d get to be a grandfather sooner than he thought. That was alright, wasn’t it?



The minutes ticked by as Miranda finished the last of the necessary preparations for the picnic and Hermione busied herself with whatever thing she was doing. Harry was about to get up and go dashing upstairs to fetch her when she came bouncing down the stairs herself.



The first thing that Harry noticed was that Hermione’s hair was tied back in a French-braid ponytail and the second thing was that she was wearing a very unhermione-ish bathing suit under her jumper and shorts. From what Harry could see of the top, it wasn’t much more than a couple of strings tied together that covered almost nothing at all. The very thought of it ran a shiver up and down his back and caused an almost catastrophic rushing of blood from his cerebral cortex other much less convenient places. One place in particular reveled in the resources it was receiving and made every heroic effort to get some attention as a result.



Harry cursed his luck that Hermione chose this day to reveal such a wonderful outfit to him. He fervently prayed that Jake wasn’t considering his imminent demise, and hoped that if the end did come, that it would be swift and that Jake wasn’t one of those who wanted to revel a bit first in his opponents’ impending death.



He was about to say something to Hermione when Jake spoke up. “Nice suit, sweetie. You know that Harry is dying in the corner, desperately trying to hide his reaction to it. Perhaps you could have worn it first in only Harry’s presence, so that he’d be able to acclimate?”



His only daughter blushed a deep scarlet, and reached out a hand to her betrothed. “Dadddddddd. Stop it.” She didn’t have the heart to tell her father that, since the two of them had gone off to Godrics’ Hollow, they considered clothes optional when it was just the two of them together. Hermione hadn’t worn a stitch of clothing, in fact, the last eight weeks before they had arrived at her parents’ house, and was developing a pretty good all-over tan.



She also didn’t want to have her mother know just how much looking at Harry naked turned her on. She thought it might shock her mother to know how very little control she had over her own body when Harry was anywhere near her. Harry carried his seventy-eight kilos effortlessly. It was compacted into broadening shoulders, well-muscled arms and legs, and a wash-board flat stomach that showed off his ‘six-pack’ abdominal muscles in ways that made Hermione crazy with lust. What’s more, Harry had taken to using the same trick Hermione did to remove most all of his body hair, so that he was smooth – at least for all the areas he had been able to reach. With his developing tan, Harry looked to her like a slightly smaller version of a bronzed Adonis. Set against his coal-black hair and his Tanzanite-blue eyes, he was a walking excuse for terribly inappropriate public displays of affection by the witch who loved him most.



Harry thought that for her part, Hermione was the living embodiment of a wet dream. It began with her hair – which fell in cascading ringlets golden-brown hair that smelled of lilacs or something that he could not really identify, except to know that it was her and only her.



Hermione’s eyes. He thought of them as chocolate brown pools of love that looked at him with more devotion and affection than he could have ever imagined or dreamed about. They sucked him in and let him communicate with her in wonderful, unspoken ways.



Her mouth. Oh god, her mouth, Harry thought. It was made to be kissed and treasured. Her lips always tasted of cinnamon and orange and something indefinable. Kissing her was the purest magic in the world and he reveled in it every time their bodies met.



Her back. It was perfect. Strong, long, lean. It smoothly flowed down to the most desirable arse Harry had ever seen. Round, strong, subtle, tan, soft, perfect. Harry loved caressing and squeezing her arse whenever he had a chance. More, he loved that she was always backing up against him, grinding her bum into him, her movements insistent for his touch. Joyous (from Harry’s perspective) hours had been wiled away in the last five months, kissing, and caressing her naked bottom and her ‘bits’. A few times they had come oh-so-close to violating the promise that they had made to each other to save actual lovemaking for their wedding night. They had been grateful in those moments for their ‘catty’ fall-back.



Harry looked at the nape of her neck and at the skin which he knew so well. It was a perfect golden canvass, unmarred by blemish, but bisected at her left shoulder by the fading scar of a curse that she suffered for him, so that he might beat Tom Riddle once and for all time. Harry thought about the evil that Tom had done to her and he felt his magic rage up inside him, like the jaguar that was also his constant companion.



Hermione felt his magical presence grow a thousand-fold and the waves of anger that radiated from her beloved.



“Harry? What is it?”



Harry leaned close to his intended and held himself just-apart from her, so that only she would hear what he was saying, “I was desiring you, Hermione, thinking about how much I love the way you look and how good you feel when you’re naked against me. Then I thought about your scar and what Tom did to you. It made me so angry that I wanted to kill him again and again. I will hate him forever for what he did to you and for the fact he almost took you from me.”



Hermione looked up at him – at the young man she loved beyond any rational thought - and she started to cry. The tears ran from the corners of her eyes and she fell in love with him all over again.



The hero of the wizarding world did what any young man would do. He held her to him and brushed the tears away and said, in his gentlest voice “I love you”.



Jake and Miranda were far from oblivious to the intensity of the exchange that they were witnessing. It amazed them that their daughter, and the young man who had become their son in so many ways, could so completely shield their most private interactions, even without using magic. They had been around a lot of young couples in their days and even before they themselves got together as a couple, double-dated with other couples who wanted and needed private moments of conversation. However, neither Jake nor Miranda had ever seen two people who could so effectively shut out the rest of the world.



Miranda thought it was wonderful and boded well for their marriage. Jake, on the other hand, while not leery of it necessarily, wished he had more control over what was happening. It was at that moment that a light went off in his head and he laughed out loud.



Both Hermione and Harry broke their clinch and look at him, startled by his reaction. “Daddy? Are you alright?”



Jake stopped laughing and looked at his slightly-frizzy haired daughter “I’m fine, pumpkin. It’s just that I realized that I have zero control in this situation and that I haven’t had any since the two of you first met. It took me watching you to hold each other and whisper whatever it was that you were whispering to realize that I could never keep you two apart if you didn’t wish to be apart.”



Miranda looked exasperated. “Jake, dear, I’ve been trying to tell you that for the last three years. I was the one who told you that if we forced Hermione to make a choice between us and Harry, we weren’t going to win, because she’d choose Harry without a second thought.”



Hermione was standing in front of her mother, with Harry’s arms wrapped around her, looking very much like the new bride she was sooner than later going to be. “Thanks, Mom. I didn’t want to tell daddy straight out like that, but I’m glad that the two of you understand what has happened for me.”



An almost eerie golden light surrounded Harry and Hermione at that moment and while Hermione’s parents didn’t recognize what had happened, Hermione did and she squealed in delight.



“Oh Harry!” Hermione started bouncing up and down in his arms. She was more excited than her parents had ever seen her. “It’s the Nimbus lumens amor!!”



Harry had no idea what she was talking about, but it seemed to be pretty important to her, so he smiled and tried to show her that he was excited for her.



Miranda looked at her daughter quizzically while her father looked like he was doing some kind of calculation in his head or something. “Pumpkin?” Hermione turned her head and stopped bounding up and down for a moment. She had the most amazing smile on her face and



Jake was almost hesitant about asking her the question that was on the tip of his tongue. “That means bright cloud of love?”



His one and only daughter nodded with a wicked grin on her face and then launched herself at Harry, kissing him again fiercely. For once, Harry was grateful that they had already had a chance to experience this kind of passion in a much more private setting, because it would have been mortifying otherwise. Their snog went on for quite a few minutes before Miranda stepped in to break it up. She placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder and pulled her slowly, but deliberately away from Harry. Harry looked sheepish and a little embarrassed when he saw Jake looking at him with a slight reproof in his eyes.



Miranda turned Hermione to face her and said, “Hermione, dear, I think you better tell us what’s going on. Why the sudden burst of uncontrolled hormones? What is the…what did you call it? The nimbus something..”



“Oh, mum. It’s the Nimbus lumens amor. It’s called the ‘cloud of love’ or ‘light of love’. It happens only for those magical couples who are so in tune with each other – who love each other so much – that they have bound their magic to each other. If it’s to happen at all for two people, it happens at the wedding ceremony, once the bonding charm has been cast. To have it happen now…..it means that Harry and I have bonded already and there is nothing that could ever separate us.”



Miranda’s eyes went wide and her expression changed from happiness to sadness to something unreadable and then she started to cry. She looked up to her husband for his support as she clung to him “Our little girl has grown up, Jake” Harry stood in place, not moving, as he watched Miranda and Jake hold each other and their daughter. He wished that they would invite him into the hug, but he wasn’t going to force it.



The three Grangers looked at Harry, who looked back at them. Both Hermione and Miranda stretched out their arms and pulled him into the hug.



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The four of them finally made it to the park finally, after the four of them really had a chance to talk about what had happened and how Harry and Hermione’s relationship should affect their relationship to Jake and Miranda. The four of them decided that once Harry and Hermione were eighteen, Jake and Miranda would accord them the same respect they would to any other couple who came into their home and would no longer pry or ask about their private lives. Hermione thought that was reasonable, given that both of them were muggle-born and had grown up expecting that they would not be adults until their eighteenth birthday, even though would be considered ‘legal’ in the wizarding world upon their seventeenth birthdays.



Jake and Miranda sat and talked under the Indian umbrella that Miranda had bought in little New Delhi, just outside of London as Harry and Hermione took off to run in the woods as Knight and Sagehunter.



Miranda was leaning back into her husband, as they sat on blanket together. Jake had been very quiet for several long minutes and Miranda wanted to ask him the question that had been burning in her ever since Hermione and Harry started glowing with the nimbus lumens amor. “Sweetie? When do you think they’ll marry? Harry has already asked her and she’s already said yes…”



Jake inclined his head so that he could look her in the eyes. “I really don’t know, Mir. I think before the end of the year, probably. They seem to be pretty impatient to be together. You saw how Harry was touching her yesterday? Seemed pretty familiar with her.”



“Jake, love? They sleep together. Of course they’re familiar. Hermione confided in me that they made love once at the end of their forth year together.”



Jakes’ face went red and Miranda could see the veins in his face throb. “They did what?”

“Calm down, Jake. There were very special circumstances. Hermione broke down and told me about it just before Christmas. She didn’t want you to know because she thought you’d not see her as your special, loving, innocent daughter.”



Jake was still very angry, but he had learned to listen to his wife and to trust her reactions.



“Apparently, the night of the last task in that wizards’ tournament that Harry was forced into, Harry was captured by Voldemort and forced to do battle with him. Sometime during that battle, Harry was badly tortured. Something called an ‘unforgivable’ curse was used against Harry and when he finally got away from Voldemort, he was in horrible, unrelenting pain.”



“But…”



“Jake, let me finish. Now Harry, who saw his older friend Cedric Diggory murdered that same night by Voldemort, escaped and was able to take Cedrics’ body back to Cedrics’ parents. Harry was forced to recount everything that happened that night before they let him sleep. Of course, Harry was in horrible pain, for which there was no cure. Hermione said that’s one of the reasons that the curse which was used was unforgivable – because it caused pain that could not be made to go away. Apparently, you can’t just give someone who’s been cursed that way morphine or something. There’s no cure – just time.”



“That still doesn’t explain why Hermione did…”



“Yes, it does. Hermione snuck into Harry’s dorm that night because she didn’t want him to be alone. He was in such terrible pain that he couldn’t sleep. When Hermione got there, she curled up under the covers with him. It was Harry who initiated their love-making. She told me that she really wanted it thought and that she was happy that she could help him feel better.”



“But still, Mir. Was that wise thing for Hermione to do? Should she have given herself so easily?”



“Jake! I’m disappointed in you. She gave Harry love. Her body was the means, but what she gave him was love – and security- and she let him know that he wasn’t alone. He needed that more than anything else in the world. Dumbledore didn’t do anything to help with the pain, so Hermione felt like she had to act. She may very well have saved his sanity and kept him whole, emotionally.”



“I know, Miranda…I know what she gave him. It was the same thing you gave me all those years ago – and I love you for it. You know I do.”



Miranda did know that Jake loved her and she had always told him that she had been really happy to be able to give him that gift. The fact that Hermione had given the same gift to Harry was something that made Miranda proud, not angry.



“Jake. She’s your daughter, but she’s also a big girl and she’s shown that she is more responsible and more powerful than we could have ever hoped for. She helped Harry save the wizarding world, and maybe ours too, and she doesn’t deserve to have us be mad at her.”



“Of course I’m proud of her, Mir. I saw the scar that she has. I saw what the war against Voldemort cost her. I also know what Harry did to protect her. I can’t ask more of him than that.”



“Then let’s know let Harry or Hermione know we’ve talked of this, Jake. They shouldn’t have to defend themselves against us.”



“Ok, Mir. I promise I’ll never bring it up.”



“Good, thank you, love.”



“Mir? I talked to Harry about the bag. He told me, just as I told you he would, to keep it. He doesn’t care about it and I got the feeling that he might use magic against me if I tried to force the issue. He also told me that he comes into his full inheritance tomorrow and that he will never have to worry about money. I made him promise that we could buy Hermione’s wedding dress when it came time. I get the feeling we’re going to be doing that much sooner than later.”



“It’s alright, Jake. It’s what Hermione wants. She doesn’t want to be alone any more than Harry does, and she’s finally found someone who accepts her, with all of her quirks, for who she is and makes her feel special and loved.”



“Do you think they’ll go back to school?”



“Oh yes. You know how much Hermione loves school and what it means to her to get her NEWTs. Not that she was talking a lot about school when we saw them at Christmas a year ago, but I know its important to her.”



“That makes me feel better, Miranda. I was afraid they were going to drop out, especially since Harry will be inheriting so much tomorrow.”



Miranda caught the sight of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to get a better look at what it was. Sure enough, it was Harry and Hermione, walking hand in hand back to where Jake and Miranda sat waiting for them. The two young people looked a little bit winded, but not overly much so.



Miranda waved to them as they got closer and they broke into a trot to close the gap.



Finally, Harry and Hermione were with them, sitting on the blanket. “Have a good run?”



Hermione looked up at her mother with glowing eyes. “It was wonderful, Mom. It felt great to get out and really run. Harry is so fast in the woods and it’s hard to keep up with him.”



Harry broke into the conversation was he held Hermione’s free hand. “We would have run around here – in the high grasses, but we didn’t want to alarm anyone or get shot at, it was better to use the woods for practice. Since we know where this place is now, we can apparate here any time we want – but in particular at dusk – and get a good run in while everyone else has had to leave.”



“That’s a great idea, Harry”



“Thanks, dad.”



“Speaking of apparating, Hermione and I have to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, in order to get to Gringott’s’ and so that we can stop by and see Fred and George.”



“Sound good. Miranda and I have to go to work. We’ve got a full day ahead of us tomorrow. I have five procedures, including two extractions, 2 fillings, and a root canal. Miranda has a bunch of clients to take care of as well and it could be a longish day. Should we do dinner together tomorrow or Saturday?”



Harry had a definite plan in mind and it most assuredly did not involve being around Jake and Miranda tomorrow.

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Next chapter…."Always and Forever"…..