Vox Corporis: Rebirth

Vox Corporis: Rebirth

Chapter 77: A Beetle Unbound



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.



CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and 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. These stories are just that, stories, and may or may not reflect the opinions of the author.



In Gratia: 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: I know that the last chapter was really long and that there has not been a lot of ‘action’ yet. This story is not really ‘about’ action, but rather about the characters, their thoughts, desires, and the love between Harry and Hermione. I’m writing this story as a bridge and to work through some issues that I thought were left unresolved in Ann’s story.



NOTE 2: This story will not; could not possibly be finished by the time the last book comes out. What happens happens and there’s nothing I can do about it. I know that JKR wants Harry & Ginny together. Personally, the idea repels me totally. She’s such a minor (and weak) character that the idea of Harry ending up with her is really, really sad. Conversely, RON DOES NOT DESERVE HERMIONE!!!!!



From Chapter 76 – “To the Alley”



Harry felt pretty good himself – once he had gotten over the stupor-inducing meeting with Ragnok and Griphook. “Tell you what. Let’s head back to school; drop our stuff off at our room; and then we can leave again to head to the Hollow. I’m feeling ‘catty’ too. And I’d love to go for a run, as well.”



“Oh, Harry. You’re always looking out for our best interests. Even when If feel like breaking the rules or doing something completely out of character for me. You’re always strong for me. I love you!”



“I love you too, Hermione. I just want to get us to the 19th of September. Let’s just be strong until then, and then we can have each other forever and ever.”



Her eyes lit up. She had an inkling of what Harry was planning, and if she was right, she really did not want to spoil it for him.



Their silent agreement was enough.



They linked arms and disappeared together, to the outskirts of the school…

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Sunrise, 6:15 am, Hogwarts Castle, Saturday, August 31st.



The weather promised to be beautiful. It was clear and cool and as the sun rose over the mountains in the east; the sky was a luminescent blue. It was magical all by itself. As Hermione leaned against the back of the loveseat and looked out the window from their bedroom (actually, the Head boy’s room), she thought about what had happened at Silk Enchantments.

Does it matter what he’s planning?



Yes, she answered herself.



Why? Do you trust him or not?



Of course I do.



Then what’s the issue? Do you think he’d ever do anything to hurt you?



No. Not deliberately.



Then let him be. You’ll find out soon enough what he’s up to.



What if he’s planning a wedding?



So? You said yes, didn’t you?



But where? How could he possibly arrange it?



Again…does it matter? This is Harry we’re talking about. If he wants to do something badly enough, he’ll find a way. Besides, it’s what you want, anyway. Damn near raped him when you got to the Hollow yesterday.



No I didn’t’….Well, actually, yes, I did, but he wanted it too.



Never expected him to rip your shorts off like he did, though.



Yes I did. That’s why I teased him so much.



Felt good, didn’t it?



Oh God, yes. My bum is a little sore, though.



You took off your knickers, slowly, and bent over in front of him. You invited it, didn’t you? Didn’t think he’d do it?



Oh yes I did. Just not quite with as much enthusiasm.



Then why are you so wet, thinking about him doing it again today? Lordy, Hermione.



A terribly lewd thought pranced across her mind, in search of thoughts to upend and plans to overturn.



Stop it. With those kinds of thoughts, you’ll be pregnant within the month.



A voice in the back of her mind, sounding very much like Molly Weasley, spoke up. So? You’re dying to be pregnant by Harry.



Well, yes, actually. I am. I love him. All I want to do is have a family with him. He wants it too.



Her conscience rose up and started to war with those thoughts. SCHOOL, it kept yelling. SCHOOL. FOCUS ON SCHOOL.



Somehow, her evil twin got into the dialog. School? You don’t need more school. You’re already smarter than the ones who’ll be setting the NEWT exams. You know things they’ve never even dreamed of. You even know more about dark magic than any other witch or wizard alive today. You’re faster with a wand or even without a wand than most of the Aurors. You’re an animagus already. How much more is there left to accomplish? Besides, you’re richer than any other witch in all of Great Britain. Why work?



Why indeed. Maybe because I want to make a difference and leave my mark on the society?



Now it was Berti’s turn. Hermione Jane. For the love of God, girl. You helped take down the most evil wizard in who knows how long. Leave a mark on society? Get real. You’ve already done that in spades, so get over yourself already.



That’s not what I meant. I want to do something wonderful. Like help cure lycanthropy once and for all or find a way to defend against the Avada Kedavra or…



She heard her mother’s voice intrude. Hermione, dear. Relax. There’s time to any or all of that. You’re young only once. Enjoy Harry. Love him. Have his children. Build a home with him. Travel the world. Give some of the galleons away to good causes. Grow roses in the garden. Have good friendships. Learn to cook!



At last, Hermione could find no good retorts. While she hadn’t made a final decision, it was pretty clear to her that she needed to do something other than what she had been used to doing for the previous six years. She decided to give the voices a chance and went back to bed, to contemplate what that would mean for her and for them, as a couple.

**********************************************************************************

9:15 am



Breakfast was usually a quiet affair and this morning, especially so. With no other students around, Harry and Hermione were able to sit together in their common room, curled up together on their loveseat, in front of the fire, and eat together off the tray that had been magicked to levitate in the middle of the air.

A soft hooting interrupted Hermione’s train of thought. She looked up and saw a Tengmalm\'s Owl gliding in through the uppermost window at the top of vaulted ceiling in their common room. It had a newspaper in its claws and a small leather bag attached to its leg.



It did one lazy circle as it came to land on the edge of the loveseat. It was a really pretty owl, with brown and white stripes and barring on its wings. The owl hooted again gently and Hermione moved to take the paper from it. Then she accio’d several Knuts and put them in the leather bag. Once it had been paid, it clicked its beak approvingly and launched itself into the air again, as Hermione began to unfold the paper. While she still had a regular subscription to The Quibbler, since it came out only weekly, she wouldn’t be getting the next copy until Monday. The Prophet was the wizarding worlds’ only daily paper of any consequence.

While Harry was drifting in and out of sleep, after their shared breakfast, Hermione scanned the headlines ‘above the fold’. Seeing nothing of real import, she flipped the paper over.



What she saw caused her to sit upright in Harry’s lap and nearly scream. There, in the usual (meaning moving) wizard photo, were the two of them, in Diagon Alley. That wasn’t the problem. She had been expecting a picture of the two of them. What set her blood boiling, though, was the fact that the picture that the paper had chosen to use was one of Harry (obviously) with his hand under her skirt, caressing her arse.



The caption below the picture was worse:



“Harry Potter finds a new adventure in Hermione Granger”



Hermione was already fuming, and by the time she started reading the accompanying article by Rita Skeeter, her magic – which she usually kept contained, was dancing across her fingertips in the same way that she had seen Harry’s magic do.

The Hero of the Wizarding world: lost in lust?



By Rita Skeeter



The ‘hero of the wizarding world’ was seen yesterday in Diagon Alley with Ms. Hermione Granger, his long-time more-than-friend and companion from Hogwarts. It seems that yesterday, Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter showed just how decedent, indecent, and uncouth young, unsupervised, wizards and witches can be. Although none of the students or professors from Hogwarts was willing to speak with me about Mr. Potter or Ms. Grangers’ relationship in the hours just before this article went to press, I was able to speak with several shoppers who had been present in the Alley when Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger were shopping. One shopkeeper, who asked for anonymity, revealed to me that he saw a multi-stone engagement ring on Ms. Grangers’ left hand and had seen them kissing repeatedly and “holding each other in the same way that married couples do”.

One thing is for sure: Harry Potter has once again truly violated wizarding tradition as well as notions of wizarding pride by choosing, as his mate and consort, a muggle-born witch. Many have observed that instead of reinforcing wizarding family ties by choosing the ravishingly pretty Ginny Weasley, who reportedly carried a torch for Harry during her first two years at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter went against reason and chose an unknown, muggle-born to continue his family lines.



There had been suspicions about Mr. Potter and Ms. Grangers’ relationship for years, but they were dramatically elevated the moment that she was brought into the advanced life-saving trauma ward at St. Mungo’s Hospital after the final battle with the Dark Lord. Pictures which were secreted out of the hospital by staff members who still believed in letting the sunshine of truth be revealed, showed Mr. Potter, in his animagus form, Knight, lying next to Ms. Grangers’ bed. It is reported that he did not leave her side until he knew that she was going to survive – some four days after she was initially brought into the hospital. I attempted to obtain an interview with Mr. Potter in the days after the battle, but my efforts were repeatedly rebuffed and my very life was threatened by students and professors alike and it was made plain to me that the press was no longer welcome anywhere in the hospital.



The doctors who were involved in saving Ms. Granger have invoked doctor-patient confidentiality rules and are refusing to speak to me or my colleagues. Similarly, the nurses involved have been required to submit to oaths of non-disclosure; effectively cutting off this reporters’ ability to bring to light any relevant information about Ms. Grangers’ treatment or who was involved in caring for her. St. Mungos’ has recently enacted the same rules for patient treatment as the University College London Hospitals (NHS), which has caused an understandable backlash from many wizarding quarters about the ‘mugglization’ of the wizarding world.



Although it appeared to some that Mr. Potters’ engagement to Ms. Granger is new news, the reality is that their relationship had been developing for a long time. There were strong rumors of an impending engagement when Mr. Potter and Ms Granger left St. Mungo’s. Even during the Tri-Wizard Competition, I reported that Hermione Granger was more than a little familiar with Mr. Potter. She was captured in a fierce embrace with Mr. Potter before the first challenge and subsequently ‘helped him’ with the other tasks. Some have said that she did much more than ‘help’ Mr. Potter and that the professors were fully aware of what she was doing.



There have been rumors that it was, in fact, Ms. Granger who helped Mr. Potter become an animagus and that he could not have done it by himself. All the evidence points to Ms. Granger being the instigator for the animagus change that the two underwent, because she wanted to show Mr. Potter how clever she was.

Time and time again, she has insinuated herself into the graces of Mr. Potter or his loyal friend, Ronald Weasley; playing off the affections of one against the other. I have it on good authority that between October and December of their fifth year, just months before their final confrontation with the Dark Lord, she played Mr. Weasley for a fool and forced him into a fight with Harry that could have ended in death or permanent disfigurement for Mr. Weasley, if Professor Minerva McGonagall had not intervened. I am not the only one to have suggested that Mr. Potter is potentially extremely dangerous because of the gross lack of control that he has over the enormous power with which he seems to have been blessed.



Ministry officials concerned.



It has come to my attention that there is a case being built and there are files circulating in the Ministry for Magic, which show that it was not, as was previously claimed, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, Ron and Ginerva Weasley, who were responsible for the horrendous dark magic that finally dispatched the remaining death eaters the night that the Voldemort fell. A well-placed source inside the Ministry has informed me that all four of their wands were tested after the battle and were found NOT to have cast the unmentionable curse. That leaves only two people – Ms. Granger or Mr. Potter – who could have been responsible for the curse. Ms. Granger, if the eyewitnesses are to be believed, had already been struck down by the Dark Lords’ curse, leaving only Mr. Potter. Ministry officials testified last week, in front of a select committee of the Wizengamot, that Mr. Potters’ wand had been destroyed during his duel with the Dark lord. Their testimony cannot be squared with the testimony of other eyewitnesses who claim that it was Mr. Potter, in his animagus form, who cast the terrible curse. The assistant to the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, Percy Weasley, declined to comment for this story, citing Ministry rules regarding on-going investigations.



What troubles this reporter is that Mr. Potter is known to be a wizard of singular capabilities – and by this I mean that he has already demonstrated powers very far beyond his age and experience – and there is no reason not to consider the possibility that he did, in fact, cast the killing curse while in his animagus form. Remus Lupin, Mr. Potters’ Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in his third year, has admitted to having taught him the NEWT-level Patronus charm, which he claims that Mr. Potter mastered. He also survived the Tri-Wizard Tournament maze in his fourth year; a feat that required sixth and seventh year spells and a mastery of advanced wand work.



What should give anyone pause is the undisputable fact that Mr. Potter faced Voldemort four times and won each time. He did the very thing that gave most wizards the most terrible of nightmares. Is it any wonder then that legitimate questions are being raised about whether or not Mr. Potter should even be allowed to remain at large in wizarding society? Does not the prospect of an even more terrible dark lord give even one person pause? I know it does for me.

Whether this marriage, if that is what is indeed in the offing, should be allowed to go forward, is not mine to say, but as an unbiased witness to some of the more dramatic goings-on at Hogwarts, Ms. Granger has proven herself time and time again to be a manipulative, egotistical, and ambitious young woman and there is no reason to believe that she is going to suddenly change her ways if or when she marries Mr. Potter. Whether he deserves better is now a matter of debate and the report of the Wizengamot.



========================================================================



By the time that Hermione finished the article, she was seething with anger and already plotting ways to destroy Rita Skeeter once and for all. She started to think about the people she could count on to help find Rita. As she went through the lists of friends and contacts that she had in the wizarding world, something popped up in her thoughts and she finally recognized it for what it represented - the Goblins. Gringotts. Surely, they would know either exactly where Rita is staying or they have a pretty good idea. It didn’t matter, really. Once she and a couple of the other Gryffindor girls got close, it would be too late for Ms. Skeeter.



Harry stirred and Hermione put the article away magically, because she knew that if Harry woke up and found it, he would be on the war path. Rita was almost right in one respect. Harry didn’t have as much control (yet) over his magic as he would as an adult. It had been enough to get the job done and kill Tom, but Hermione trusted that as Harry matured, his emotional control, and therefore control over his magic, would increase substantially.



His sleepy voice roused her from her other thoughts “ ‘Mione? Love? What time is it?”



Hermione snuggled down into his lap and buried her face in the flannel of his pajama top. “It’s 9:15, love. We have just today to get everything else organized before we have to meet the train tomorrow.”



Harry’s brain started to engage. He had slept over nine hours and his body was telling him that it was time to get moving. He sat up a little bit, which shifted Hermione in his lap. “Everything’s about done, so we really don’t have any worries. The only thing I want to do, besides going down to the Quidditch pitch and checking out the conditions in the locker room, is zapping home to the Hollow, to see how the house is and making sure that there aren’t any problems.”

Hermione thought about that for a moment and then said, “There are going to be many more students this year than there have been in years past. At one point, I think the school was down below four hundred and now there’s going to be over a thousand. I have to make sure that all the Gryffindor girls are going to have room.”



That set off alarm bells in Harry’s mind. “I hadn’t thought about that at all, Hermione, and now that I do, I’m not sure where everyone is going to be housed. I know that the seventh years can stay on the top floor of Gryffindor tower, but that only frees up thirty beds on the lower levels. That’s not going to be enough.”



A wicked smile played on Hermiones’ face and Harry knew something was up. She spoke carefully. “What if we allow the couples who are already together to ‘consolidate’ ? ”.



Yup. She’s wicked, he thought. “I was going to suggest that, but then I decided not to, because I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.”



“Well, we can hardly deny them, now that we’re sharing a room. So long as Professor McGonagall doesn’t come looking and everyone keeps quiet about it, it should be all right. There are at least thirty couples I know of in the seventh year alone besides us and I’m sure that many of them would welcome a chance to bring their relationship out into the open.”



She started ticking off the couples she knew: Ron and Luna; Ginny and Neville (though Ginny was a year behind, Neville was a seventh-year); Colin and Amanda (no, scratch that, she thought to herself, they’re sixth year); Parvati, Dean, and Lavender; Su Li and Seamus; Ethan and Wendy; Ryan Christopher and Denise, Adrianne and Edmond….” The list went on for some minutes.



Once Hermione was done re-sorting, she figured out that at most, she’d have to conjure space for only four or five more, instead of the thirty-five or more she feared.



How Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall would react if Harry and Hermione’s tacit approval of conjugal sleeping arrangements came to light, she thought about, but didn’t worry about. Hermione decided, very simply, that it was far easier and less stressful not to worry about it. That she didn’t worry about it was in itself a major change from years past. Harry had always said that it was easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission and she had to accede that he was probably right.



After all, she mused, she wasn’t trying to foment revolution or anything. She was just trying to make sure that everyone was going to have a bed to call his or her own for the year and that was a noble (if plebian) goal.

Once the two of them had settled on their schedule for the day, Harry extricated himself from the very, very comfortable love-seat and moved to the bathroom to make his ablutions and take a shower. Once he had the hot water running, he called out to her “Want to join me?”



It didn’t take long for Hermione to strip and join him, eager as she was for his touch and for a repeat of her favorite activity from yesterday…



*************************



By the time Harry and Hermione climbed out of the shower, Hermione was walking gingerly and made it a point to dry herself off very gently. Much to his chagrin, he could see his some of his seed – evidence of their intercourse - leaking down the inside of Hermione’s leg. When Harry saw how tentative her movements were, he waved a hand in her direction and cast a nonverbal healing spell, which dissipated the discomfort that Hermione was feeling as a result of their intimate activities.



She felt the wave of relief and turned to smile at her lover. “Thanks, Harry. That was quiet….a workout” she giggled.



Harry blushed hard, as he was still unused to being complimented for something so intimate that he was so new at. “I love you, Hermione. It was wonderful. I can’t believe that we…you…allowed me to do that with you.”



Hermione dropped the towel she was using and walked up close to the young man who was her husband in all but paperwork. “Harry, if I tried to tell you how good it feels to have you inside me, I couldn’t. It’s indescribable. I can’t even imagine what it’s going to feel like when we get to use the ‘front door’.”



Looking at her, he said with a laugh “If you don’t get dressed, I’m going to have another ‘problem’ to deal with.”



“Oh? And is that my fault?”



Harry caught one of her hands and pulled her close, so that his lips were almost brushing against hers “Yes, you minx. You enflame me in ways that should not be possible.”



It didn’t matter to Hermione anymore if they had things that they really should have been attending to. Kissing Harry was more important. She had made her decision about that in the early morning hours. There were, in fact, more important things in life than work: Friendship, bravery…... and the most important one – the one she hadn’t dared say to Harry when she was eleven: love.



Hermione launched herself into the kiss. Her arms wrapped themselves about him, as his embraced her. Silently, Harry carried her back into what had become their bedroom where they fell backwards into the bed, still enfolded in each others’ arms.



As their magic rose up together and intertwined, Hermione whispered in his ear, “I love you, my husband.”

*******************************

It was getting harder and harder to get out of bed with Hermione. There was nothing that mattered to him more than being with her and there was nowhere that he wanted to be more than with her under the covers of their bed.



Harry longed for the day when neither of them had anywhere to go and there was nothing that either of them had to do. He sighed, mostly to himself. Someday.



However, it was Saturday and there things that really needed to be done. Their conversation in the chapel, and in particular, Hermiones’ comment that Harry needed to talk to Minerva McGonagall, weighed heavily on him and he knew that he could not, nor should not, put it off long. Also, Harry knew that somewhere out there, Draco Malfoy was trying to do something. It frustrated Harry no end that he could not figure out what Draco could possibly do that could threaten them, but magic worked in sometimes odd and often-times terrible ways. There was no greater example of that then the night Toms’ defeat. Harry knew that he should not have been able to cast that curse effectively. What little he had been able to read so far emphatically stated that casting any sort of magic when in animagus form was impossible. Part of the reason, the book had said, was that killing curses required focused will. That was true for the Avada Kedavra curse as well as other lethal curses. Secondly, killing curses required a discreet target: something that Harry had not had that terrible night. The book had prattled on about powerful curses needing a wand as a focus. Harry had snorted and chuckled sarcastically to himself when he read that. Ya, right. Whatever.



On Harry’s private ‘to-do’ list were two items that he couldn’t tell Hermione about yet. When she had been at Silk Enchantments, being pampered (which was something that she deserved more than anyone else he knew), he had had started the process by apparating to Jake and Miranda’s dental office in the town of Dover to tell them what he had decided to do and to recruit their help in making it happen.



After they recovered from the initial shock of seeing him suddenly appear in Jakes’ office, the conversation had been mostly a happy one, at least for Miranda. Harry suspected, though, that he had introduced a certain amount of sudden frenzy into their lives. Jake took the news with more reserve, but had grinned none-the-less and said ‘congratulations’ when he shook Harry’s hand.



Harry’s first job was to speak with the Reverend about officiating at the wedding. That meant that Harry had to go and actually talk to him and remind him that Hermione had attended church there for a long time.



The other item on Harry’s to-do¬ list was to buy for Hermione a wedding band that would compliment her engagement ring. He hadn’t had time to get away to accomplish that errand, though he suspected that he’d be able to do so at the weeks’ end. There were never classes after noon on Fridays. He knew where he would go though. The Circle of Life was a famous jewelry store in Diagon Alley and the owner, Niona Facet, was a long-time friend of the Longbottoms and Weasleys.



Harry grinned to himself, even as he lay comfortably under the covers with the woman he loved. I wonder if she suspects why we went to Silk Enchantments. Does she even know what a peignoir set is? Harry fretted silently about how much Hermione might or might not have guessed about what he was planning. Damn. He knew that he had never been able to fool her for long about anything he was actually feeling. Even when he tried to put on a happy face, she usually saw through it immediately. The same was true with her. She couldn’t lie to him or cover up the fact that she was unhappy about something. True, she had hidden the fact that she had fallen in love with him – but that he figured was because she hadn’t even been willing to admit it to herself, much less to him.



Finally, basic biology overrode his desire to stay in bed and hold Hermione close to him. She was sound asleep as she lay under the covers next to him; her breathing rhythmic and even. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders and onto the pillow in a golden-brown tumble and it smelled of lilacs and cardamom and ginger. Being awake and close to her made him painfully erect again, which meant that he was going to have to exercise a great deal of mental control in order to empty his now screaming bladder.



When he came back into their bedroom, Hermione was still asleep. He looked at her for a moment and whispered in her direction, “I love you, Hermione.”



Having her asleep, though, gave him a chance to do something he had never done before. He went through her closet and picked out a pretty, white short-sleeved jumper and pink cotton wrap-around mini-skirt for Hermione to wear. After closing her closet doors, he laid the clothes out so that she would see them when she woke up. After that, he did the thing he had never, ever done before: he opened the drawer which held all of her knickers. It was a treasure-trove of desires and fantasies in cotton and silk. He hardly knew were to begin. It was almost too much: His brain began to fog over with desire as his fingers touched the different pairs. The cotton pairs were so soft and so pretty that images and thoughts of touching her wearing them gave him a painfully hard erection. The larger portion of her collection was silk knickers. They were smooth, sensuous, and touching them was overwhelmingly erotic for Harry. Eventually, he chose the pair that lay closest to his hand. They were white silk bikini knickers that he knew looked so fabulous on her. He had kissed and teased her out of them more than once.

*********************************

1:45 PM



“Did you arrange with the Headmaster to have him announce that there will be a special meeting of the seventh-year students tomorrow night in the common room?”



Hermione was seated across the table from him in the Great Hall, looking at a check list that she had made, in order to keep track of all of the things that needed to be done before they went to meet the train in the morning. Every once in a while, she’d grin as she caught his eye and spread her legs just enough, so that Harry could see her silk knickers. He’d smile when she did that and lick his lips.



“Yes. I talked to him about that when we met yesterday evening, before dinner. He also said to remind you that the Prefects must do a roll-call of the first through fifth-year students tomorrow night, before dinner. He wants to know if there is anyone missing. He also said to tell you that because Filch was forced out over the summer, the new building maintenance staff has not had a chance to review the list of banned items. He wants the list posted on the notice board in the common room. He’s doing the same with the other two houses.”



Hermione groaned. Slytherin house had been eliminated in all but name because of the high number of sixth and seventh-year Slytherins who had fought along side Tom the night that he was defeated. The Headmaster had finally decided that rather than allow internecine warfare between Slytherin and the other three houses, Slytherin house would be closed. The younger students – the first through fourth year students – would be re-sorted into the other houses. The painful decision was made that if the Sorting hat chose not to sort the former Slytherin students into Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor; they would be sent home permanently.



All students would be checked for the dark mark, irrespective of their house, so that the trust and camaraderie which helped to bind the school together would again be present and so the school could move back onto a path of growth and improvement. Harry and Hermione had agreed to be tested first and tested in front of the whole school. Harry knew, and Hermione had reminded him, that leading from in front was often the best (and only) way.



Dumbledore had also decided, with McGonagall’s support, to allow, and even encourage, all sixth and seventh-year students to become animagi. There would be an official, but ungraded, course in order to teach the students what they had to do and to guide them through each step. Hermione had been asked to teach the potions portion of the course while Harry had been asked to teach all of the students the process of entering the proper meditative state in order to accomplish the tokening that was required for the transfiguration.



Additionally, the Headmaster had asked them to produce a book on the subject – based on their personal observations as well as Hermiones’ extensive notes on the process. Harry’s contribution to the book, according to Dumbledore, would be a discussion of his ‘touching the jaguar’. Hermione, for her part, had demurred from discussing with the Headmaster the fact that she had learned to ‘touch the lioness’. There were some things that she had decided were best kept private or shared only with Harry. Any profits from the book, they agreed, would go to the school and be split equally, to further the study of both Transfiguration and Potions.



“Harry?” He looked up at her, lost as he was in his own note-taking.



“Yes? What is it, love?”



“Do you think they’re doing the right thing…I mean, with all of the changes and everything.”



He scratched his head for a moment, closed his eyes, leaned back in the chair that he had conjured, then opened his eyes and looked at her. “Well….here’s the thing: most all of the changes are administrative. Closing down Slytherin house; attendance; checking for the Dark mark….those are all things that have to do with the administration of the school. What’s really changed? They’re still going to teach the same OWL and NEWT-level courses and there’s still going to be a lot of focus on using your wand, instead of wandless magic; and there’s still going to be a lot of writing and testing and memorization. I don’t really see fundamental changes happening.”



She looked back at him, surprised at how right-on she felt he was. “So what do we do about it?”



He smiled at her. “That depends on how strongly you feel about it, Hermione. It is more important than petitioning the Wizengamot for rules changes affecting Elfish welfare?”



She almost giggled at that. S.P.E.W was, and always had been, a cause near to her heart and by comparing other things too it, he made her think about what her priorities actually were.



After a moment’s reflection, she said, “I think…..yes. It is. I think that a muggle should teach muggle studies. I think that we should learn magic from non-human creatures, like elves and I think that professors should teach courses together. Herbology and Potions should be taught together, for instance. The animagus course should be mandatory for fifth, sixth, and seventh year students, or until you’re successful at the transformation. If we could do it, others can as well.”



Harry was dubious about that, but he bit his tongue.



She continued. “I think that all students should have to train physically, so that they are stronger, faster, and feel better about themselves. I think that literature and other ‘muggle’ courses should be introduced. Children from magical families, in particular, should be made to read muggle stories and all students should focus on going on to higher learning. Hogwarts should not be the end of the road, but rather the beginning.”



“So? How much of this are you going to tell the Headmaster? Or do you want me to do it?”



She bit her lip and looked hesitant. It was a look she hasn’t seen on her face for a long time. It usually meant that she knew that it was the right thing to do, but was very hesitant about how it would be received. Harry knew that she respected the Headmaster very much and perhaps even felt the way he did – that she felt a kind of love for the Headmaster that only a treasured relative receives.



Finally, she reached out and took his hands, as he sat down properly again. “You think I should? I mean...really?”



“Hermione, you are not the brightest witch of our age for nothing. If you think that these are good ideas, then they probably are. I think they are, for what its worth, but you know that I’m only a mediocre student without your help.”



Her smile brightened. “Oh Harry, I love you. Thank you. I get worried that I’m being an ‘insufferable know-it-all’. That’s what holds me back”.



Harry’s look went stern, or at least more serious. “Hermione? Please, don’t doubt yourself. You saved my life by helping me become an animagus. I couldn’t have beaten Tom without the advantage that gave me. Dumbledore knows that’s the case as well and he trusts you implicitly. You should trust you, too.”



A tear escaped her eye as she looked first at the table and then into his eyes. “Do you know how much I love you, Harry?”



He nodded. “The same way I love you, Hermione. With all that I am.”



*********************************

The rest of the day seemed to melt away. More checklists were made, done, and disposed of, while others were made and the discarded as being irrelevant.



Finally, dinner time came and Harry and Hermione were summoned to the Great Hall by Fawkes. When he appeared, suddenly, in their bedroom, the Head Boy and Girl were busy doing what they had discovered they did so well: kissing and touching each other. This time, their clothes were mostly on, though zippers and buttons were undone and her knickers were somewhere near the foot of the bed.



A voice spoke in Harry’s head as the phoenix appeared above them. “Harry? My master asks for your presence, and that of your lady, in the Great Hall. He asked me to bid you come now, so that he can speak with the two of you”.



Harry looked at Hermione, with the tenderness that meant more to her than anything in the whole world. “Did he speak to you, too, love?”



Hermione looked up at the phoenix that was hovering in the air above them. “No. I didn’t hear anything. What did he say to you?”

He winced slightly. “The Headmaster wants in the Great Hall….now. He wants to talk to us.”



She knew why he had winced. The two of them had been making nice progress towards mutual release when Fawkes showed up. She also knew that they dared not disappoint the Headmaster. He had done a great deal for them by accommodating their relationship. Since they had arrived at the school, it had mostly meant looking the other way when their feelings towards each other had become too hard to resist and they started snogging in the hall or on their way out of a meeting, or on the grounds. The Headmaster had also made a point, privately, to talk to them about all of the things that he had hesitated to tell them before Tom was destroyed. He told them, in a long and rambling conversation, about what had happened the first time that Tom had tried to seize power. Dumbledore told then stories about his parents – stories that Harry had never heard before – and for the first time, let Harry know just how very much it had hurt the Headmaster to learn about James’ and Lilys’ deaths.



Pushing himself up on one elbow, Harry looked at his soon-to-be wife. “I love you, Hermione. Promise me that after we meet with the Headmaster, we can come back and take up where we left off?”



Rather than reply in words, Hermione grabbed some of his shirt and pulled him close, so that her lips were brushing his. “I’d be hurt if we didn’t, love.”



She let go of him, but very reluctantly. Seeing the frustration in her eyes, Harry leaned forward and gently did up the one button that held her skirt in place and ran a gentle hand over her arse, so that she would have no doubt about how much he wanted to be intimate with her.



The golden cloud that settled on them in that moment surprised neither of them. Each knew how strongly the other felt. Seeing the Nimbus Lumens amor was just another reason for the two to love each other. Hermione looked up at Fawkes, who was still hovering patiently above them. “Harry? Better do up your pants, so that Fawkes can take us to Dumbledore.”



Harry obediently reached down and, after a moment ‘adjusting’ things, he was able to zip up his slacks and button them. Once he felt presentable, he smiled at Hermione and the two reached up to touch the phoenixes’ tail.



*********************************

Two seconds later, a blinding light appeared in the Great Hall and the Head Boy and Girl stood in front of a table, set for four people. The Headmaster and deputy Headmistress rose as they approached.



“Welcome Harry, Hermione. Thank you for joining us. There’s much to talk about and Minerva and I thought it would be a good idea to talk over dinner. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering a special bottle of champagne for us, seeing as you two are about to start your seventh year as Head Boy and Girl.”



Harry and Hermione were a little taken aback by the fact that they had been invited to have dinner with the Dumbledore and McGonagall. Harry had never had dinner with adults, where he was being treated as an equal and it was both novel and a little scary for him.



Hermione, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease. She had grown up with parents who talked to her constantly and she had always had a place at the dinner table when guests were present. He envied her that. He couldn’t remember much, if anything, about his growing up, but he was pretty certain that he had never been treated as an equal.



Once the two were seated, Dumbledore clapped his hands once and a sumptuous dinner appeared before them. In the center of the table lay a moist, tender, medium-rare roasted leg of lamb. Surrounding the roast were pan-roasted new potatoes and sliced carrots. The smell of lamb and rosemary was redolent in the air. A chilled bottle of champagne appeared on the table, wrapped in a folded napkin. To Harry’s surprise, Dumbledore himself rose from his seat and poured a full flute for each of them.



Harry knew this one tradition and he, when the time was right, lifted his champagne flute in a toast.



The Headmasters’ eyes twinkled as he lifted his own glass. “Harry, Hermione. Tonight, I toast the two of you. Your extraordinary bravery and selflessness saved many more lives than I could ever count. Never, in the thousand years during which this school has stood, have two people ever done so much. There is no award; no commendation that suffices to recognize and honor the two of you. I say this: May Merlin forever protect you both and may god bless your marriage.”



Hermione took Harry\'s hand under the table as the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmistress saluted them and then drank their champagne.



Once the two professors sat down, Harry squeezed Hermiones’ hand gently as he looked at the Headmaster and said “Thank you. Hermione neither want nor need awards, sir. We just want to be students; be married; and be graduated with our classmates in June.



Albus Dumbledore looked at him and then did something unexpected. He took Minerva’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze, before releasing it. “There is one thing, that I can give you two. It’s something that I cannot; may not; give anyone other students: You are now both exempted from the normal rules which bind students. You may come and go from the grounds as you need and will not be subject to the normal disciplinary rules. I know that both of you are too honorable to violate that trust, which is why I can extend it.



On Monday, there will be a memorial service here at the school. There will be an expectation that each of you say at least a few words. What you say, I will leave up to your judgement. One thing that I would caution you on: There will be members of the Wizengamot present, as well as members of the press. I believe that I saw a certain article in today’s copy of the Prophet that might give some people sufficient motivation to do something rash. I would only urge caution and stealth. There is a time and a place for everything in life and I know that I can trust those around me to exercise discretion.”



Harry looked at Hermione, who was blushing and squirming slightly in her seat. She caught his look and mouthed ‘later’ at him, to which he nodded in response.



Dumbledore watched Hermiones’ reaction and knew that she had something on her mind, but was too polite and too honorable to use legilimency on her. He suspected that he’d find something of interest if he did, but he also believed strongly that she’d never again commit the kind of violence that she had when she had raged against the Dursleys. Harry, on the other hand, was an unknown quantity. Dumbledore was certain that if Harry felt he was protecting Hermione, he was capable of unspeakable horrors that would make Tom’s defeat look tame in comparison. The old man prayed that Harry would never, ever, again feel threatened that way.



The rest of dinner went by extremely pleasantly. As they shared desert, Hermione finally did work up the courage to tell both Dumbledore and McGonagall about her ideas for substantive change within the curriculum.



“Ms. Granger” McGonagall corrected herself “Hermione. You seem to have been thinking about these things a long time. Why is it that you never came to me before?”



It didn’t take a second for Harry’s hand to shoot out and envelope Hermiones’. He knew, better than anyone else, why she had been reluctant. To make her say it thought would have been unnecessarily cruel, so he spoke up for her. “She was hesitant because of what people might have thought of her, in the event that her suggestions were adopted.”



“What do you mean, Harry? Which people are you talking about? And what could they have possibly said that would make the smartest witch Hogwarts has seen in a thousand years – and yes Ms. Granger, you are smarter than me – that hesitant? I mean, I can’t imagine.”



Harry’s eyes were plaintive as he looked at the deputy headmistress “They called her, no, scratch that…SNAPE....called her a ‘insufferable know-it-all’ in front of the entire potions class, Professor. It’s something that has hurt her for a long time.”



Minerva McGonagall was not a woman who was usually troubled by the emotional ups and downs of students; having seen decade’s worth of their troubles. However, Snapes’ comments to Hermione were inexcusable.



“Headmaster, Hermione, Harry” she said, standing up. “I have a message to send. Thank you all for a wonderful dinner. I’ve enjoyed it immensely.”



She took a small, blue ball out of her pocket. It was instantly recognizable as a port key. She tapped it with a finger and disappeared in a swirl of color.



The Headmaster looked at them from across the table. “I think we ought to adjourn for the night, Harry, Hermione. I still have to meet with the new potions master. It’s a good thing that it’s a popular discipline in the wizarding world. For what its worth, Hermione, I am saddened that you were treated so badly by Severus Snape. There was never an excuse for that. It is sad that he never had an opportunity to apologize for that remark.”



Hermione nodded. She was numb, emotionally. Snapes’ remark had really hurt her and it was something she was finding hard to get over.



Albus Dumbledore reached across the table, when he saw the distress on her face, and touched her hand very gently before he rose and swept away.



Harry got up and pulled her up to him, so that he could touch her all over. “Hermione? Back to bed?”



She smiled, finally, and looked at him “You read my mind,” she giggled.



*********************************