Chapter One – Grandmother Figg

Harry blinked uncertainly, looking around.  His room was filled with the glow of sunset.  A soft breeze blew from the sea through his open windows, stirring the curtains.  He tried to sit up.  Everything hurt.  “Not too fast, Harry” said Dumbledore quietly from a chair beside the bed.  “You’ve been through quite an ordeal” Harry screwed up his face, trying to remember.  Memories of the night before burst in on him.  “Hermione! Is Hermione okay?” he gasped.  The effort made his head pound.  “Calm yourself, Harry.  Miss Granger is perfectly fine, very tired of course, but fine.”  Harry relaxed visibly.  “What about Ron and Sirius and Remus?”   “All fine, with the exception of Professor Lupin, who is better than fine, but I’ll let him tell you all about that himself.”  Harry knew better than to ask questions, but thought it significant that Dumbledore had referred to him as ‘Professor’ Lupin.

Dumbledore gazed steadily at Harry, then said, “What is the last thing you remember, think carefully…”  Harry closed his eyes.  “Voldemort levitated me out over the fire, and then allowed me to fall.  I remember falling toward the flames…” Harry’s voice trailed off…  “At the last second, it occurred to me that I should transform, I should try to assume my phoenix form.  Is that what happened, did I become a phoenix, or did someone intervene.  Did you save me, Sir?”  Harry asked, truly not knowing the answer.  “No, Harry, you saved yourself, and a good many others for that matter.” Dumbledore said kindly.  “So…so  I became a phoenix? But how did that save anyone?”  Dumbledore held up a hand, stopping the tide of questions that he sensed was about to pour from Harry.

“You did not become a phoenix, Harry, you became the Firebird.  You became the incarnation of the Mark your friend Ron conjured on your birthday.”  Harry’s eyes widened.  Dumbledore continued, “You bound yourself and your powers to the power of the Firebird.  It is a fierce creature with a will of its own.  The Firebird swept over the beach, destroying everything in its path, including Voldemort.”  Harry gasped in surprise.  “He’s…gone?  Really gone this time?”  “That’s hard to say, Harry.  What I can tell you is that when Voldemort used his father’s bone and your blood to create a new body for himself, the body he created was mortal.  There is no doubt that the Firebird completely destroyed that body, but as to the malevolent spirit that inhabited it?  Only time will tell.”  Harry nodded.  “Do you remember my telling you that if Voldemort’s attempts to return were continually thwarted, he might eventually give up?”  Yes, sir” Harry replied.  “Well let’s just say you slammed the door on him pretty hard this time.”  Harry smiled.  This was a side of Dumbledore he’d never seen.

“Harry, he began, a bit more seriously, “I must warn you, when you became the Firebird, you tapped into a source of unspeakable power.  It is a trait of the Firebird to form a symbiotic relationship with a sorcerer, a relationship that it is not anxious to end.  The more time a sorcerer spends as the Firebird, the more difficult it is for him or her to assume their normal form.  We nearly lost you last night to its overwhelming need for your power.  You were saved only through the extraordinary connection that you and Miss Granger share.”  Harry held up his left hand, fingering the Cadeau Du Mer.  “No, Harry, the Cadeau du Mer alone could not have saved you.” He leaned closer to Harry for emphasis, and then said quietly, “It was love.  Just as your Mother’s love has marked you forever, Hermione has left her own mark on your heart.  There is a part of her embedded in your soul.  It’s why you can hear her thoughts and she yours.”  Harry looked away, unable to speak. 

“Promise me, Harry that you will not assume the Firebird form again unless I am present, or unless there is dire need.  Do you understand?”  Harry nodded “You may of course, transform into a phoenix, whenever it is appropriate.”  Dumbledore smiled and said, “You will try to keep all this quiet when you get back to Hogwarts, won’t you?”  Harry grinned.  “Speaking of Hogwarts, I’d better give you…this” Dumbledore held up a shining prefects’ badge.  “Thank you, sir,” Harry breathed, “but are you sure? I mean, do you really want me as a prefect?”  Dumbledore looked mildly surprised.  “Of course I’m sure.  You are an honorable young man, cool and level headed - most of the time,” Dumbledore allowed his eyes to twinkle, “and you will be ably assisted by Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley.  I think you will make as fine a prefect as your father once did.  Besides, you have an Invisibility Cloak, you will be one of only a handful of people who can apparate at Hogwarts, and,” he paused dramatically, “you have the Marauder’s Map.  You seem to me to be perfectly equipped to watch over your classmates.”  Harry’s eyes were wide.  “You know about the Map?” he said.  Dumbledore allowed himself a small chuckle.  “Yes, I found the map of Paravel that Mr. Weasley and Professor Lupin were working on.  They told me everything.”  “Then…” Harry stammered, “Then I can keep it?  I don’t have to hand it in?” “No, Harry, you do not have to hand it in.  What you have to do is use it responsibly to carry out your duties as a prefect.  Am I being clear?”  “Perfectly clear, sir, and…thank you” Harry grinned happily.      

“And now”, said Dumbledore, rising to his feet, “I think I’ll let you rest, or perhaps you’d like to visit Miss Granger?”  “Yes, sir, may I?”  “Certainly Harry, and give her this for me…” Dumbledore handed him another badge, identical to his own.  Harry accepted it with a smile and eased out of bed.

He ached all over and seemed to be suffering from what felt like an awful sunburn.  His skin was tender to the touch.  Even his lightweight pajamas hurt as they brushed against him.  He walked stiffly to the bathroom, washed his face, brushed his teeth and half-heartedly combed his hair.  “No use” he muttered and putting on a robe over his pajamas, slipped quietly into the hall.  Madam Pomfrey was sitting in a chair by the door, “And where do you think you’re going?” she asked sharply, giving him a start.  “Professor Dumbledore said I might look in on Hermione.” he said, with resolution.  Her face softened slightly, “You may, but don’t wake her if she’s still sleeping.  She desperately needs her rest.”  “Yes ma’am” said Harry, tapping quietly on the door.  There was no response.  He cast a sidelong look at Madam Pomfrey, who nodded, “Go in..”

Harry turned the knob gingerly and stepped inside – careful to shut the door on Madam Pomfrey’s prying eyes.  The last rays of the sun slanted through the windows and across Hermione’s bed.  She was fast asleep.  Harry walked stiffly to where she lay.  Her hair was fanned out over her pillows, her lashes dark against her soft cheeks.  He took one of her hands in his, gently pressing her fingers to his lips.  She stirred slightly.  He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead.  Her skin felt cool and silky.  For a long while he simply gazed at her.  “She’s a sort of miracle” he thought to himself.  A thousand words for “Hermione” ricocheted around his brain – a witch, an intellect, an athlete, a virgin, a goddess, a sorceress, a warrior, a prefect….my lover.”  He flushed slightly at the thought.  She stirred again and smiled slightly.  Suddenly her whispered voice filled his ears, “You left out ‘cook’. I’m a really good cook.”  He burst out laughing and pulled her into his arms, kissing her over and over again.  “You were eavesdropping!” he breathed into one of her ears. “Am I going to be forced to add ‘naughty’ to the list of words that apply to you?”  “If you’re very lucky you will,” she said, looking directly into his remarkable eyes.  He smiled and then in a voice barely above a whisper said, “Didn’t you know, Hermione? I’m the luckiest man in the world tonight.”   A wave of passion broke over them both.  Entwined, they fell back against the pillows.  By Harry’s watch, this bliss lasted approximately a minute and half, before Madam Pomfrey tapped on the door and cleared her throat noisily. 

Harry straightened his robes and dropped into a chair by the bed.  “Yes, Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione called.  Their school nurse, temporarily on loan to Paravel, bustled in.  “Ah, so you’re awake now, dear” she said briskly.  “Run along, Mr. Potter.  I need to examine my patient.  If she’s fit, I’ll send her down to you all in an hour or so.”  Harry rose, but lingered in the doorway.  Madam Pomfrey was laying out items from her case.  She turned to Harry, “Off with you now!”  He grinned helplessly at Hermione and headed for the shower.

Harry arrived downstairs a short while later to find everyone sitting in comfortable chairs on the terrace, waiting for Hopkins to ring the gong for dinner.  “Ahh, the Firebird, himself,” Remus called cheerily when he saw Harry.  This was the first time Harry had seen any of them since their encounter with Voldemort.  Sirius rose and gripped Harry’s shoulder tightly.  Harry winced.  Sirius let go instantly, “Sorry, Harry, are you okay?” “I’m fine, but my skin feels like it’s been sunburned - just a little tender really, that’s all.”  He looked around.  Ron, Remus, Sirius, Dumbledore and Arabella all looked perfectly well, but he had to ask anyway, “How about you all?  Is everyone all right?  No battle scars or anything like that?”  There were reassurances all around.  Harry turned to Ron, “I’m sorry I banished you and Remus to the cliff tops, I shouldn’t have done it.  I just desperately wanted you all out of harm’s way.”  Ron laughed, “You don’t know the half of it, Harry.  For a bit, it looked like you had sent us directly into harm’s way.”  Ron recounted his shock and fear at watching Remus transforming into a werewolf right in front of him.  “Fortunately for all of us, the wolfsbane potion worked.  He transformed, but kept his mind.  Hermione was actually able to speak to him.  She sent him right out into the middle of all the Death Eaters to help you, mate.”         

“That’s not exactly how it happened…” said a distinctly female voice from behind them.  Harry turned.  Framed in the doorway, was Hermione.  She was breathtaking.  The color had returned to her cheeks.  Her eyes sparkled; lustrous hair fell in waves down her back.  She wore only a little make-up, but it exactly complemented her gown, which was of the palest pink.  Her appearance was entirely feminine and extremely delicate.  Looking at her, Harry could scarcely believe that this was the same girl who had deliberately allowed herself to be kidnapped by a maniac wizard less than twenty four hours earlier.

The gong sounded for dinner.  Harry was just about to offer his arm to Hermione when Remus stepped forward, “May I have the honor?” he said smoothly, extending his arm.  Hermione looked a trifle embarrassed, but nevertheless accepted his offer to take her in to dinner.  Harry found himself marginally irritated.  “What is Remus playing at?  He looks like the cat that swallowed the canary….Hang on, there is something different about the way he looks…”  Harry studied Remus closely now that they had left the dark terrace for Arabella’s candlelit dining room.  There was definitely something different about him.  Harry had rarely seen him look so elegant and dashing, and, well, healthy.  He frowned slightly as he watched Remus seat Hermione and tuck her neatly up to the table.

Harry seated himself opposite Hermione, looking at her thoughtfully.  Dumbledore took his usual place at the head of the table, and called everyone to order.  “You will indulge me for a moment I hope, there are a few things I would like to say before we begin this splendid dinner.”  He paused.  Arabella smiled up at him, “Of course, Albus” she murmured softly.  He began again, “Last night each of you acted with courage, bravery and honor.  You faced and defeated one of the greatest evils of our time.  Although the wizarding world may never know it, it owes you a great debt.  It doesn’t matter if they ever know.  What does matter is that each of you know and that each of you understands fully what happened. And, unless I am mistaken, this is the first time you’ve all been in the same room since your ordeal, isn’t it?”  Sirius looked around the table.  “Yes, I guess it is, what with one thing and another, this is the first time we’ve reassembled.”  “I thought so.”  Dumbledore smiled knowingly, “So each of you only knows your own part of what transpired last night.  Therefore, I have a proposition.  As we dine tonight, let us reconstruct what happened so that we may all appreciate the enormity of what each of you faced.  Let’s talk the whole thing out, once and for all, but when we are done, let us speak no more of it.  Use a pensieve if you have to, but don’t dwell on the horrors in your pasts.” 

And so they began.  Each person telling their parts until a whole had been constructed.  Remus, Ron and Hermione were surprised to learn, for example, that Sirius had made it possible for Peter Pettigrew to join the Headless Hunt.  Likewise, Remus was able to relate his knowledge of Death Eaters who had escaped, and the fact that Lucius Malfoy was, very probably, now a werewolf.  Best of all, was Harry learning about how Hermione and Clio had granted Remus new life – a chance to live free of the werewolf’s curse.  Remus’s attentions to Hermione were now made perfectly clear and understandable – and of course, acceptable.  They talked for hours. 

It was exactly what they needed. 

By the time Hopkins had shimmered into the sitting room with their nightly sherry, everyone’s questions had been asked and answered.  Dumbledore raised his glass, “I salute you – all of you” then drank deeply.  Ron grinned at Harry, “Now what are we going to do for the rest of the summer?  There are two whole weeks left and not a dark wizard, a vampire, or even a zombie in sight.”  “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do,” said Sirius firmly, “you are going to help me make sure that these two,” he gestured to Harry and Hermione, “finish their training.  Day after tomorrow, we’re going back to working on the animagus transformation, and conjuring and….”

Harry didn’t hear a word he was saying for Hermione had, from the far side of the room, just given him a special smile that was reserved for him and him alone.  He crossed the room to her, oblivious to the schedule Sirius was laying out.  He took both of her hands in his and rested his forehead on hers.  “Have I told how lovely you look this evening?” he whispered to her.  “There’s something missing though…”  She looked puzzled.  He reached deep into a pocket and pulled out her shining Prefects’ Badge.  “Dumbledore asked me to give it to you, but Madam Pomfrey never gave me the chance.  Congratulations, my love.”  Her eyes were bright as she accepted it from him.  Turning to Dumbledore, she held up the badge and said, “Thank you, Sir.”   He smiled, “It is I who thank you for the lives you saved last night, and for the fine example you will set as a Hogwarts’ Prefect.”  Then Dumbledore rose and did something which Harry found truly remarkable - he kissed Hermione’s cheek.    

“You have both worked hard this summer,” Dumbledore said quietly so that only Harry and Hermione could hear him.  “As far as I can tell, you have made the most of this first critical period in your development as a sorceress and sorcerer.  I am more than satisfied with what you have achieved.  Keep in mind, however, this is the first of several such periods that will take place over the next five years.  The last one takes place when you are around twenty.  After that, it will simply take time and life experience for you to reach the heights of your powers.  I look forward to the time we’ll spend honing your abilities – time that will be made lighter and more carefree by what you did last night.  And now, I really must take myself and,” he winked, “Madam Pomfrey back to Hogwarts.”  Harry and Hermione exchanged sly smiles.  “Unless, of course,” he continued, his eyes twinkling “you’d like me to leave her with you a bit longer…” 

Amid protests from Arabella, Sirius, and Remus; Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey took their leave.  Ron and Remus decided to return to their map making.  Even though the immediate danger had passed, Ron still wanted to learn how to create maps like the Marauder’s Map, and Remus was only too happy to teach him.  Sirius and Arabella drifted into the small library to consider Rita Skeeter’s latest request for an interview, leaving Harry and Hermione quite alone in the sitting room.  A small fire burned.  The French doors to the terrace stood open.  Harry took Hermione by the hand and led her onto the moonlit terrace.

Ron and Remus watched their two “dots” on the map as they moved out to the terrace.   Remus smiled and said, “Be right back Ron.”  Ron watched the dot labeled “Remus” slip quietly up to the French doors.  The dot became a small figure.  It drew out a wand and pointed it out towards the terrace.  A little speech bubble appeared by the figure on the map.  It contained one word - “Melodius”.  Faintly, Ron could now hear music coming from the terrace.  The Harry and Hermione dots were moving from side to side and turning occasionally.  Ron laughed out loud, “They’re dancing!” he thought, smiling.  “Oh yes, this map’s going to be dead useful.” 

Remus returned to Ron.  He bent over the map to begin working again.  He noticed the Harry and Hermione “dots”; he thought for a moment about where those dots might be later in the evening.  “Ron,” he said in a breezy tone, “I think its time we wiped this map clean for tonight, don’t you?  We can pick up where we’ve left off tomorrow.  I’m dead tired, aren’t you?  Here, I’ll take that,” he said, folding up the parchment they had been working on, “You must be tired too, after everything you’ve been through,” Remus put an arm around his shoulder, “Let me walk you to your room.”  Ron tried to protest, but Remus shushed him, “No arguments, you need your rest just like everyone else.”  And with that, Remus propelled him gently, but firmly off to bed – without the map.

Hermione stood with her back to Harry.  His arms wrapped around her.  They were looking out at the moon as it rose over the water.  “Harry,” Hermione said quietly, “I want you to know something…I didn’t throw off the Imperious curse on my own.  I could hear your voice in my head, telling me not to listen to Voldemort.  Once I heard your voice, it wasn’t difficult to know what to do…” He kissed the back of her neck.  “I hoped that’s what was happening, but of course, I couldn’t be sure…”  He turned her around, “And now, let me tell you something, Dumbledore said that the only reason you were able to summon me from the Firebird was because of the connection we share.”  Hermione nodded and fingered the Cadeau Du Mer.  “No, Hermione, not just that, Dumbledore said that the Cadeau Du Mer wouldn’t have been able to do it alone. He said it was because of a more significant connection – our love for each other.”  Hermione felt her heart beginning to pound, Harry whispered, “He said that you had made a mark on my heart,” Harry kissed her cheeks, “that you were embedded in my soul”, he kissed her eyes.  Now, he simply thought his words to her, “It’s why you can hear my thoughts, and I can hear yours…”  He kissed her deeply.  “You are a part of me now, just as I am a part of you” came his whispered voice in her head.  The amulet around Hermione’s neck began to glow, as did the ring on Harry’s finger.  They vanished.

Had Ron been able to look at his map, he would have seen the two tiny figures reappear in Hermione’s room – where they would stay, all night.

It was little after 8:00 a.m.  Without opening her eyes, Hermione reached for Harry.  He was unexpectedly absent.  Hermione sat up, disappointed.  Then her eye fell upon a single long stemmed rose and a creamy envelope placed neatly on what had been Harry’s pillow.  She smiled, and reached for the rose.  She held it to her cheek for a moment, then reached for the envelope.  She settled back among the pillows to read the contents.  Inside, in Harry’s bold handwriting was a rather cryptic message.  It read,

“My darling,” Hermione blushed slightly at this, “at precisely 11:00 a.m., I shall summon you to a private destination known only to me.  Wear something simple and stunning, with your swimsuit underneath.  I love you, Hermione. – Harry.”

She traced his name with her finger.  It was the first of many notes from him that would fill her with joy.  She slid it carefully back into its envelope and headed for the shower.

   Harry had risen early with one thought in mind – the perfect way to spend his one day off before training resumed.  He knew where he wanted to go and exactly what he wanted to do.  After a quick conference with Arabella, everything was arranged.  He and Hermione could spend the day by themselves in Godric’s Hollow, provided that Harry placed a few Muggle-repelling charms here and there, and that they were home in time to be presentable for dinner at 6:00 p.m. sharp. 

Initially, Harry felt guilty about abandoning Ron, but Arabella promised to keep him entertained.  “He might finish up the map of Paravel…” she suggested.  Harry smiled faintly.  He was not too keen about Ron completing that map.  If Ron ever looked closely at it, he might realize that Harry and Hermione were always together at night.  Clearly, these were “dots” Harry didn’t want connected.  Harry very much valued the privacy he and Hermione had at Paravel, and because he knew instinctively that there would precious little privacy at Hogwarts, he resented anything that intruded on them now.  “And so,” he thought to himself, “it had better be Godric’s Hollow for us today, out of reach of that damned intrusive map.”   Because today, Harry had something very intimate, very private in mind.  That in itself was a good reason to go to Godric’s Hollow.  It would be nice for it to happen there – fitting and somehow appropriate.

And so, by 7:30 a.m. Harry was ready to apparate to Godric’s Hollow.  He was loaded down with parcels of food from Hopkins, who promised to have more ready in about an hour.  Harry had decided to take what he could carry and conjure the rest once Hopkins had finished putting it together.  Harry touched down in his mother’s garden, perhaps because he had been thinking of her so strongly.  He inhaled deeply before looking around.  Dew still sparkled on every blade of grass, every flower.  A bird sang in the distance.  Lily’s fountain splashed in the background.  He stood perfectly still, listening, absorbing the lingering emotion attached to the place.  James and Lily had been happy here.  Perhaps he had been too, though he had no clear memory of it.  What was clear was that he and Hermione could be very happy here now.  With a grin, Harry set to work.

Harry worked steadily all morning, magically cleaning up the gardens and grounds.  He restored the ropes on Lily’s swing, and then twined living, blooming flowers up them.  He laid out the makings for a beautiful picnic on the beach, remembering to conjure blankets and towels.  By 9:30 a.m., he was back in his mother’s garden working on what would be perhaps the most worthwhile, but most difficult of all his projects.  “Although, he thought to himself, conjuring that horse up here from Paravel hadn’t exactly been easy…” 

By quarter to eleven, Harry was just putting the finishing touches on his surprise for Hermione.  He was dripping with sweat.  He jogged back to the beach and stripping off his clothes, dove in.  The water was blissfully cool and refreshing.  Feeling much better, he waded ashore and toweled off.  He dressed carefully in a spare set of crisp clean clothes and looked at his watch.  It read 10:59 p.m.  “Perfect” he thought to himself. 

Hermione was pacing around her room.  She had taken nearly all morning to get ready, finding it impossible to settle on what to wear.  Finally, she chose a simple white sundress.  It was sleeveless and had a rather low neckline.  A row of tiny pearl buttons ran down the front and reached to just above her ankles.  She was sliding into sandals when she felt the Cadeau Du Mer begin to glow around her neck.  She heard Harry’s voice, “Ready?” he asked.  She vanished with a “pop”.  Wind whipped around her.  She shut her eyes tightly.  In an instant, it was over.  She felt herself touch down on ground that was a bit shifty.  Strong arms gripped hers to keep her from losing her balance.  She opened her eyes, “Harry” she smiled up at him.  He kissed her lightly and said, “Sorry to leave you this morning, but I hope you’ll forgive me when you know what I’ve been up to…”  “What have you been up to?” she asked, looking around properly for the first time.

She recognized the beach at Godric’s Hollow at once.  “Oh Harry!  Are we back in Godric’s Hollow?” she cried in delight.  He nodded.  She spied the picnic things, “How lovely” she breathed.  “That” Harry said firmly, taking her by the hand, “is for later.”  He turned toward a group of nearby trees and putting his fingers to his mouth gave a shrill whistle.  Hermione looked toward the trees but saw nothing.  A moment later, she heard hoof beats.  The gorgeous Andalusian gelding Harry had been riding the day they first visited Godric’s Hollow was racing toward them across the dunes.  Hermione gasped.

It stopped a few feet short of them, with a small spray of sand.  It wore no saddle or bridle.  Its mane and tale blew wildly around it.  Harry held out an upturned hand.  The gelding sniffed his palm.  Harry eased around to the horse’s shoulders and vaulted lightly onto his back.  The gelding snorted and tossed his head, but stood.  Straightening, Harry nudged the gelding forward with his knees, then, leaning down, he swept Hermione up beside him – sidesaddle.  Just as he had done when they had ridden the Firebolt together, Harry encircled her with his arms and took up two fistfuls of dark grey mane.   With another nudge and a whisper to the gelding, they set off down the beach.

They walked in silence.  As they reached the end of the cove, Harry maneuvered the gelding skillfully to the water’s edge.  “Hold on tight,” he whispered to Hermione, and leaning forward, urged the gelding into a lovely rolling canter.  Hermione caught the rhythm easily and had no trouble keeping her seat.  It was indescribable – the feeling of racing through the shallows on this magnificent horse with Harry.  It was like a dream.  When they at last reached the picnic things, Harry sat deeply which pulled the gelding to a walk.  Its sides were heaving, its nostrils wide and blowing.  Harry slid to the ground.  He stood for a moment looking up at her - a dazzling girl perched atop a dazzling horse.  They were like something out of a painting.  She jumped down to him. He caught her easily and held her close.  With a free hand, he patted the Andalusian’s neck, then slapped it hard on the rump.  It whirled and tore off down the beach, back to the grassy meadow where it had been in before Harry called.

He turned to her with a charming smile, “Did you remember your swim suit?”  She nodded, “Good” he breathed, “In that case…”  Ever so casually, he undid the top button of her sundress.  She made no objection, but stood, perfectly still.  He moved to the next one and the next, until at last the dress fell open.  He eased it gently from her shoulders and laid it carefully on the picnic blanket.  He pulled his own shirt over his head to find that Hermione had vanished.  She was racing toward the water.  He stripped to his bathing suit and pelted after her.  In spite of her head start, he caught up with her just as they were about waist deep in the water.  Unbidden, she went into his arms.  He lifted her easily and she wrapped both legs around his lean waist.  He moved a bit further into the waves – taking them out of the breakers and into the gentle swells.  He kissed her willing mouth.  She responded instantly, tangling her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck and gripping him more tightly around the waist. 

“Hermione,” he gasped, his voice cracking slightly.  “Did I remember to tell you what Dumbledore said about our training?” She continued kissing him. “He said that it is essentially over.”  She kissed his neck and throat.  “Also, have I mentioned that Voldemort is dead? I mean, no black clouds hanging over us anymore…”  She was now kissing his bare chest.  “Oh, and one more thing, about that virgin sorceress stuff, you fulfilled the prophecy, so I can’t see any reason to, well, maintain your status as a virg…”  He never finished the sentence.  She had kissed him squarely on the mouth.  “And did I mention,” she said, looking at him through half closed eyes, “that I had a little chat with Madam Pomfrey about how to make sure we don’t become wizard parents prematurely?”  He looked shocked.  He could never imagine working up the nerve to talk with Madam Pomfrey about anything of the sort, but then Hermione could be fearless when it came to getting what she wanted…

She laughed, “You should see your face, Harry.” He had to laugh.  Here had spent weeks planning the perfect seduction, and she was one step ahead of him.  He carried her to the picnic blanket and laid her down.  He stretched out beside her and pulled open a hamper.  It was full of delicious fruit, lightly smoked chicken, iced tea and jugs of water.  They took turns feeding each other.  After a bit, Hermione looked around and said, “What?  No champagne, no strawberries? What will Sirius say when I tell him…” she looked mischievously at Harry.  He, on the other hand grew quite serious.  “Are you ready…for champagne and strawberries?”  “I’d die for some…” she said, fully comprehending his double meaning.     

Without a word, he lifted her easily into his arms and began walking toward the place in the Hollow where his parent’s house had been.  Hermione realized that the path had been marked with candles and even though it was broad daylight, the candles were lit.  She could see their soft glow once Harry had carried her into the park of large oaks that surrounded the house.  As they approached the gate to his mother’s garden, he whispered, “Close your eyes”.  She felt him pass through the gate into the garden and heard the soft splashing of Lily’s fountain.  He set her on her feet and turning her around said, “Open your eyes”.  She could hardly believe what she was seeing.  An elegant white canopied tent had been erected.  Its sides were draped in sheer fabric that pooled dramatically among the flowers.  Harry drew one of the sheer panels aside.  He took her by the hand and led her inside.  There were more candles.  The tent was floored in thick rugs.  Masses of pillows had been artfully arranged, and in the center, Harry had fashioned a bed out of several soft blankets.  In a silver ice bucket, a magnum of champagne was chilling.  Nearby were two glasses tied with white ribbon. And, as promised, there was an ornate silver serving tray with a dish of the most beautiful strawberries Hermione had ever seen.  Harry had remembered everything - even small containers of powdered sugar and dark chocolate in which to dip the strawberries.   Harry turned to the small CD player Remus had given him for his birthday and pressed “Play”.  Hermione heard the now familiar and much loved sound of “Lily’s theme”.

Harry opened the champagne deftly (Hopkins had showed him how) and poured glasses for them both.  He dropped one strawberry in each, and then handed Hermione her glass…

“To you,” he said, raising the glass to his lips.  “Harry, this is…positively other worldly - ethereal” she said, hardly daring to breathe.  “You did all this – this morning?”  He nodded, pleased at her reaction.  “It’s like I’ve been swept up by some Bedouin, or perhaps a Sultan.  I feel like Scheherazade.”  “You look a bit like her too,” he said, easing her to the floor and feeding her a strawberry, “with hair down and your skin so tanned.”  He ran a finger lightly across her shoulder and down one arm.  She shivered.  “Cold?” he asked.  “Quite the opposite,” she whispered.

She took a sip of her champagne.  It was like drinking pure sunlight.  She held a strawberry gently between her teeth and offered it to Harry.  He took it, hungrily.  The taste of her lips was devastatingly sweet.  In one smooth motion, he untied the strings of her bathing suit.  She quivered slightly and closed her eyes and he began an intimate exploration.  She was lost to all reason and reality.  She was only aware of Harry’s hands, Harry’s lips - his weight crushing her into the softness of the blankets.  There was a searing deep within her, then only exquisite pleasure as she caught his rhythm easily - just as she had caught the gelding’s earlier.  He was the most considerate of lovers, timing the moment of her release with his own.  She cried out in fierce joy and pleasure.  She pulled Harry’s face to hers.  His eyes were bright with tears. “What is it, Harry?” she whispered.  He buried his face in her neck, murmuring, “So perfect, you are so perfect and I…I love you so completely.”  They lay there as one, not moving, just drinking each other in.

Harry had claimed her as his own.   “Now,” Hermione thought quietly, “we belong to each other in every sense of the word.”  A long-forgotten passage from a favorite book crossed her mind, unexpectedly, “…They had taken the final step, and he had been wonderfully sweet, claiming her for his own in the most complete of ways; choosing her; loving her.  They were a pair.  A couple. Sometime, somewhere, they would be married, and together forever.  About this there was no shadow of doubt, and the prospect filled her with a warm sense of continuance.  For some reason, the social rites of this state – proposal, engagement, wedding – never entered her head.  They were simply trimmings of convention, unimportant and almost unnecessary, because she felt as though, like pagans, they had already made up their vows….”  

Hermione lay with her head on Harry’s shoulder, one arm flung across his bare chest.  She traced ribs and muscles beneath the firm, sun-tanned flesh.  He sighed deeply and turned to face her.  “You’re marvelous.  Did you know that?” he said, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her tenderly.    She smiled and was about to speak, when they heard the sound of footfalls.  Hermione lifted her head and through the veiled panels, saw the gelding.  It had come to drink at the pool.  “Look, Harry,” she breathed, “how lovely”.  Hermione rose and wrapped a blanket loosely around her.  She stole quietly from their bower and out to the gelding.  He had just lowered his head to drink.  She crouched beside him.  Droplets of water covered his muzzle.  She began to whisper to him in a low voice.  He pricked his ears and stepped closer to her.  Harry couldn’t hear what she was saying, but was intrigued by the tableau.  Hermione held out her hand and in it, an apple appeared.  The gelding took it from her gingerly.  She gave him an affectionate pat, and returned to Harry.

“So,” he said, as she nestled beside him, “you’re doing it now, too…”  “Doing what?” she whispered.  “Magic – without your wand.  Do you realize that you just conjured an apple out of thin air with nothing but a smile?”  She raised her eyebrows, “Well then,” she said silkily, “I guess it’s safe to assume that we haven’t done anything in the last hour to diminish our powers…”  She was at her most sensuous.  “I wonder what the next hour holds?”  Harry felt a familiar warmth spreading rapidly through him.  She sat up slowly, and let the blanket fall to the floor.  He gazed at her – she was the enchantress now, dazzling him in their romantic hideaway, offering herself to him.  His need for her became overwhelming.  He shifted her into his lap – kissing her bare shoulders and throat.  Eyes closed, head tipped back, she moaned softly.  A wave of passion broke over them both, carrying them away in its current.  They were drowning in each other, glorying in a tide of love and mutual fulfillment. 

An hour later, an age later, Harry looked at his watch.  It was nearly 3:30 p.m.  He was just looking away, when something drew his eyes back to its face.  The hand with Hermione’s name on it was pointing to a place he had never seen it before.  Usually, her “hand” pointed to “Paravel” or “The Library”, but now, it was pointing to “Home”.   “Hermione, look” he whispered.  “Are we late?” she said drowsily.  “No, not the time, look at the hand with your name on it…”  She smiled and said playfully, “Perhaps it will always point to ‘home’ when we’re together like this…”    “Or” he said, taking her hand and kissing it, “perhaps it’s the sweetest and best of omens.” he turned her hand over and kissed her open palm “You know,” he began to work his way up her arm, “A hint of things to come.”  Her eyes filled with tears.  “Harry” she said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I hope with all my heart that you’re right.” He folded her into his arms and held her close.

 They rose and dressed, slipping back into clothes without any sense of awkwardness.  Hand in hand, they strolled to Lily’s swing, then down to the beach to pack up their things.  As Hermione lifted the corners of their picnic blanket to shake it out, when she spied what looked like white beads among the folds.  Dropping to her hands and knees, she picked one up.  It was a pearl.  “Harry, look at this.” She cried, holding it up for him to see.  He was equally amazed and swore he hadn’t put them there – there were about a dozen in all, equally sized and of similar color.  “But how…?” she began.  Harry grinned and pointed to the sea.  In the shallows, Clio waved and blew a kiss.  She was only there for an instant, then drifted away with the spray and foam.  “More gifts from the sea” Harry said, putting the pearls in his pocket for safekeeping.

When the picnic hampers and blankets had been bundled together, Harry raised both hands and concentrated hard on the kitchens at Paravel.  With a “pop”, every parcel vanished, only to reappear at Paravel seconds later, sending a shower of beach sand all over Hopkins’ nice clean counter.  Harry and Hermione made their way back to Lily’s garden with its lovely canopy.  Hermione picked up pillows and folded blankets.  She stacked them in the center of the floor.  Harry focused hard on the laundry back at Paravel.  With another “pop” all the luxurious bedding vanished, only to reappear unexpectedly in the laundry - giving Mrs. Hopkins quite a turn.

Harry gestured to the last remaining items to be returned, the silver serving trays with the strawberries and champagne.  “One for the road?” he smiled, even white teeth showing against his tan.  She nodded.  A last sip, a last taste, and it was time to tear themselves away.  They had promised Arabella that they would be home in time to shower and dress for dinner.  Harry gestured to the silver pieces.  “Care to try to send these yourself?”  She nodded eagerly – holding out her hands in front of her, she forced herself to think only of the butler’s pantry.  With a little rattle and the familiar “pop” the pieces disappeared.  Later, Hopkins would find them already cleaned, polished and back in their usual places.

Harry whistled for the gelding, who trotted lightly through the gate and directly to Hermione.  She stroked his soft nose and cheeks.  “How are we getting home?” she asked, for several possibilities had occurred to her.  Harry consulted his watch.  “We have just enough time to ride, it you like.”  “Perfect,” she said, opting for the longest slowest way back to Paravel.  She wasn’t ready for the moment to end.  “What about the canopy?” she asked.  “Its enchanted.” said Harry.  “It will fade away gradually through the evening and be gone by midnight.”

Harry conjured a bridle and saddle for the gelding and tacked him up in silence.  He gave Hermione a leg up into the saddle, then swung on easily behind her.  The walked through the gate and down the path to the moor and Paravel.  Harry paused for one last look before the ruins of the house were out of sight.  “One day, Hermione, we’ll live here.  One day we’ll be together here, for always.”  In answer, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. 

They made it back to the stables at Paravel  as the clock tower struck five - just enough time to shower and dress for dinner at six.  Harry turned to Hermione with eyes sparkling and said “Race you back to the house?”  In a flash, he had assumed his phoenix form.  She was uncertain.  She had never managed to pull off the animagus transformation without a little help from Sirius or Remus.  “But,” she reasoned, “I did just spend the afternoon “enhancing” my powers…”  And so, not to be outdone, she closed her eyes and with a flash became her falcon form, “Talons”.

Not waiting on Harry, she gave a shrill cry and rocketed toward the house.  Ron, Remus, Sirius, and Arabella were all sitting on the terrace.  They were just about head to their own rooms for dinner preparations when Ron shouted, “Look!” he pointed to two shapes, hurtling toward them out of the park.  “Firebird” and “Talons” streaked overhead.  They circled a few times, then landed on the grassy lawn.  In a flash, they returned to their human forms amid clapping and whistling from the spectators on the terrace.   They climbed the steps laughing and winded.  “Very showy” said Sirius, clapping Harry on the back.  “Have a nice day?”  “The best,” Harry smiled.