Dark eyes sparkling
Cold heart beating
Love never ending



Hogwarts is really not the place it used to be, I thought regretfully, stepping over shards of broken glass, careful not to slice my foot on the jagged edges. Five years after the Great War had ended and still no-one had bothered to re-establish Hogwarts to its rightful place as the best school in Europe. I sighed sadly, reminiscing about all the good times Harry, Ron and I had had in this castle. But, I reflected, as the years had past, even the good times had been dampened by the ever present evil, constantly trying to weave its darkness into the homes and lives of all who had lived here. Many of my fellow classmates had been killed in the ensuing battle – Dean Thomas, Ernie MacMillan, Angelina Johnson and Percy Weasley among them, not to mention all those I had never acquainted myself with. The Order suffered losses too – Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mundungus Fletcher being just two who perished in the final battle. All fought courageously and helped Harry to secure a strong position in which to kill Lord Voldermort.

But with heartbreak and sadness, joy and love always follows.

Harry and Ginny, despite their year apart when Harry’s only reason to live seemed to be to murder Voldermort and avenge so many that he had loved and lost, were reunited in the wake of Voldermort’s death and married three years later. They now have a beautiful baby boy whom they named Sirius James Potter. Harry is head auror at the ministry of magic and Ginny is about to return to work as an agony aunt and was recently offered the chance to host her own, live, love hour on the WWN. She accepted and her celebrity is increasing.

Mrs Weasley is, of course, chief baby-sitter and hardly lets Sirius out of her sight. Mr Weasley has returned to his job as head of The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, although his pay-packet has increased significantly, due, most likely, to the fact that he saved the lives of hundreds of ministry workers when he defused and discarded of a muggle bomb, planted by the Death Eaters, who had assumed no witch or wizard would ever understand what it was and how it worked – years of Mr Weasley tinkering around with plugs and wires had paid off. Thankfully he and Percy made up before Percy was killed by Narcissa Malfoy, herself now dead, having been struck by a mysterious illness months after the battle.

Lucius Malfoy is, unfortunately, alive and kicking, but not quite as comfortably as he would like – he is currently working as a waiter at a 2* muggle hotel, without his wand – he has been stripped of all his money and status and his magical powers have been binded. He can no longer enter any kind of magical society.

Hagrid still lives on Hogwarts grounds, his home having been enlarged by me to accommodate Grawp and the two of them work as joint gamekeepers. Hagrid and Madame Maxime are still great friends and I personally think that one day it will develop even further…

Severus Snape saved my life and Ron’s before killing Rufus Scrimgeour and is now spending the rest of his days in a secure ward at St. Mungo’s – I don’t think we’ll ever know or understand why he did the things he did and where his true allegiance really lay. All I can do is be grateful to him for saving my life and leave the past as it is.

And Draco Malfoy?

Well, he’s where our story really begins…



“Ron,” I shouted up the stairs of our two-bedroom, detached house, situated right next-door to Harry and Ginny’s five-bedroom mansion (we got the caretaker’s house, although the only care taken is not to smash any windows when Ron and Harry get a little too vigorous playing Quidditch).

No answer.

“RON!” I yelled impatiently, “Get your bum down here, there’s someone to see you!”

Stamp stamp, crash crash, slam, thud thud thud and finally Ron appeared at the top of the stairs, looking thoroughly disgruntled, holding self-consciously onto a towel wrapped around his middle, which was in danger of falling down if he made any sudden movements.

“What?” he asked, none too politely.

I raised my eyebrows.

“Don’t take that tone with me. I know perfectly well that crash I heard just now was you pulling down the brand-new shower curtain I had put up yesterday, so if I were you, I would be very nice to me unless you want me to curse you with some ugly red boils, which I’m sure would clash spectacularly with your hair. Are you getting what I’m saying?”

Surprisingly enough, Ron grinned, with a none to innocent gleam in his eye.

He walked down the stairs, all thoughts of covering his modesty gone.

“Ron, I can almost see right up that towel!” I said embarrassedly, averting my eyes.

But he didn’t seem to care.

He stepped off the bottom stair and opened his arms wide.

“Hermione, I love you. You are my rock, my sun and air…”

I could see the towel slipping down out of the corner of my eye.

“…you take my breath away and-”

“Um, Ron…” I began.

“Yes my love?”

“Uh, your Mum’s in the living room and the door’s not shut.”

“Why should that worry me?” he asked confusedly.

“Well…your naked.”

“WHAT?!” he yelled, looking down at himself and realising the towel was pooled around his ankle. He dived for it, just as Mrs Weasley called, “Don’t worry Ron; I’ve seen it all before!”

I finally looked directly at Ron and saw his face had turned an adorable shade of scarlet, the towel clutched tightly in front of him like a shield.

*
“And so I said to Mrs Clearwater, ‘just because Percy is not alive to support Penelope and Jessica, it doesn’t mean that we, that is to say, Arthur and I, won’t do our utmost to help Penelope, be that financially, or just by acting as baby-sitters once in a while!’. But of course, Mrs Snooty-Pants said, rather rudely I might add, that Penelope had all the help she needed, but that the thought was appreciated!”

“‘Appreciated’,” Mrs Weasley repeated disgustedly, shaking her head, “She wouldn’t know what appreciation was if it came up and bit her on the bottom! She always did consider Percy lesser than her darling Penelope. But my Percy died honourably and those who knew him should not be ashamed in admitting so-” she said angrily, her voice catching in her throat.

Noticing the warning signs, I said quickly, “Indeed he was and I most definitely am not ashamed to say that. You’ve got a good family Mrs Weasley.”

Mrs Weasley smiled, adding, “Molly dear, please- you’re twenty three now and really don’t need to act like I’m superior to you in any way.”

I returned her smile warmly.

“Sorry, you’d think by now I would’ve got that into my head, but I think you’re always going to be Mrs Weasley to me. You’re Ron’s mum after all and I treat you with the same respect I show to my own parents.”

“You’re a lovely girl Hermione and I know Ron thinks so too. I’m sure he’d love to put a ring on your finger someday.”

I could feel myself turning pink as I hastily tried to disillusion Mrs Weasley of this crazy idea.

Ron, want to marry me? We weren’t even dating for goodness sakes!

“Mrs Weasley, believe me, Ron does NOT want to marry. I know that the scene you witnessed about 15 minutes ago seemed like we were pretty close, but Ron had just been inhaling a little too much of the love potion I’m trying to brew for Fred and George’s latest love-line; you know, the one Ginny is endorsing. He really, REALLY, doesn’t want me.”

More’s the pity, I found myself suddenly thinking.

NO! I scolded myself – if you date Ron, there’ll be no going back.

Mrs Weasley smiled knowingly.

“You just keep telling yourself that dear.”

I stared at her, my mouth hanging open as I gaped soundlessly at her.

Was she really implying what I thought she was?

Just as I was about to ask her exactly what she meant by ‘you just keep telling yourself that dear’, Ron entered, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and some baggy stone-washed jeans.

Five years had certainly done wonders to Ron’s physique: He had finally bulked out, meaning he no longer looked tall and gangly. Gone was the boyish round face and awkward stance and in its place remained a handsome, confident young man.

Oddly, at the sight of Ron, my stomach felt like it was doing a back-flip…

Of course, it was just because we had been talking about him… it didn’t mean that I was in love with him… Did it?

To my dismay, Ron sat down right next to me, his leg inadvertently brushing against mine as he did so, sending shivers all down my spine.

I must’ve noticeably tensed, because I saw Mrs Weasley smile a little too smugly for my liking.

I was really going to have to have a word with her…

“So,” said Ron, cutting through my thoughts, “What d’you want?”

“Ron!” I said indignantly. His physical appearance may have improved since he left Hogwarts, but his manners sure hadn’t.

“What?!” he asked me in genuine bewilderment.

I rolled my eyes and said to Mrs Weasley, “What your son is really trying to say is that he hopes you’re well and wonders whether this is merely a social visit, or whether you have some news that may interest us.”

I could feel Ron’s gaze on me – I expect he still couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong, or why I had elaborated on what he obviously believed to do exactly what I had said he was asking, just with fewer words.

I really pitied him sometimes.

Mrs Weasley, seemingly immune to Ron’s rudeness (or perhaps she was just used to it) cleared her throat and said, “Well Ron, this is not a social visit as such, but I bring good news.”

Intrigued, I leant forward, just as Ron did, our hands landing on the same spot on the sofa, his on top of mine. A huge jolt, like electricity, sprung up my arm, causing me to pull my hand away.

Ron stared at me, surprised by my sudden movement, but I could’ve sworn I saw a little bit of hurt flash in his eyes.

But before I could really look, he broke my gaze and turned back to look at his mother.

Slightly stunned, I quickly collected my thoughts and turned back to Mrs Weasley too, just in time for me to hear her exclaim joyously,

“Fleur and Bill are having TWINS!”

I glanced at Ron who looked like he’d been kicked.

Ever since Ron had first set eyes on Fleur Delacour, he had been smitten. Even when she became engaged to his brother, Bill, he always vied for her attention. Eight years later, he still nurses a soft-spot for her, although I like to think it’s the vela part that makes him so attracted to her, rather than her drop-dead beauty; beauty that I could only dream of having.

NOT that I care whether Ron thinks I’m pretty or not! I’d just like to have the stability of knowing that I don’t repulse people with my unattractiveness.

Admittedly, my looks have improved somewhat since Hogwarts. My bushy brown hair is now always sleek and easy to be styled, thanks to Fred and George’s new Wonder Witch Hair Care line. My body too has changed, although that’s more down to maturing than to any magical line. I’m now a curvaceous Size 10 and no longer walk around with a bag of at least twenty books slung over my shoulder, which has improved my posture immensely. I can even pull off heels, a feat I was far too embarrassed to even attempt when I was at Hogwarts.

Someone clearing their throat jerked me out of my musings. I blinked and looked at Ron, who was hastily trying to look as though the news had pleased him and not as though he would’ve liked to have thrown a tantrum.

“Um,” he said gruffly, “Yeah, well, uh, say congratulations to er, Bill and… and Fleur.”

He tried to smile, although it ended up looking more like a grimace.

I turned around and smiled at Mrs Weasley too.

“That’s wonderful news! Aww, TWO more grandchildren to add to the family!”

Mrs Weasley grinned, adding snidely,

“And may there be many more,” she said pointedly to Ron and I.

I saw Ron go very red out of the corner of my eye.

I hastily stood up and mumbled, “I’ll just get some wine to celebrate!” and dashed off into the kitchen, where I slammed the door close and leant up against it, trying to pull myself together.

This is bad, bad! I can’t even be in a room with Ron anymore without one of us turning red or someone suggesting we get together.

It’s WRONG! Ron and I have been the best (well, mostly) of friends for twelve years now and nothing will change that, NOTHING!

I hope.

Or do I?

ARRGGGHHH!!!

Ok, let’s just pretend, for a second only, that Ron and I were to get together – what would happen?

Well, I found myself thinking instantly, we’d argue non stop!

So very, very true.

But, well, what if we didn’t? Argue so much I mean. Could we ever have a relationship that exceeded just friendship?

As I was about to ponder this very frightening (and, I’m ashamed to admit, slightly exhilarating) possibility, someone tried to open the door, causing me to jump out of my skin and promptly whack my head on the bottom of a cauldron hanging on the back of the door.

“Ow, ow ow ow!! Mother of all things magical, my head!”

In my screaming, I’d backed away from the door and the person who had been trying to open it managed to enter.

It was Ron.

Even with my eyes streaming, I could make out Ron’s concerned face. He shut the door behind him and headed towards me.

Totally mortified, I turned away and tried, to no avail, to hide how much

a. I was in pain
and

b. I was embarrassed.

“Hey,” he asked worriedly, “Are you alright?!”

Somehow in my pain I managed to find room to think, “Does it LOOK like I’m alright?!?! I’ve probably got a cauldron-shaped indent in the top of my head now!”

However, to Ron, all I managed to gasp was, “Yeah, I’m fine,” before a huge spasm of pain shot through my head, causing me to fall forward. Ron caught me and carefully lowered me to the floor, where I sat for about five minutes with my eyes screwed tightly shut, willing myself not to vomit, before Ron realised he could cast a pain-killing spell, which, thankfully, he immediately did.

Despite my new pain-free existence, I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to see Ron’s face, which was probably a mixture of concern, disgust and amusement. I felt Ron move beside me and thought he was getting up to leave, but then I felt a hand gently touch my face, making me flinch and open my eyes in surprise.

Ron’s face was about three inches away from mine, his eyes oddly unreadable as his gaze bore into mine.

Shocked at his close proximity, I began to pull back, but Ron’s hand flew out and caught my arm. I stared at him, startled.

“Hermione,” he began huskily, “Please don’t pull away. When I was professing my love for you I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I want you to know that it was the effects of the love potions you’ve been brewing in the bathroom and not because I actually am in love with you. Also, my poetic skills honestly aren’t that bad I swear!”

I couldn’t help laughing at the last bit, but even as I did, I felt my stomach twist in disappointment.

So, he didn’t love.

Drat.

I mean good!

Don’t I?

Ron looked as though he was waiting for me to reply to what he had just said, so I forced a grin and said,

“I know that. No worries.”

Looking immensely relieved that I wasn’t cross (and, perhaps, that I didn’t think he was in love with me) leant forward and gave me a hug.

For some reason, unfathomable to me, I felt as though I never wanted to let him go – I could’ve spent the rest of eternity nuzzled up to his neck, breathing in the delightful smell of his aftershave.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end and end it did. Ron let go of me and stood up, already muttering about how starving he was and why we were stupid not to have hired a house-elf, completely oblivious to the tender moment we had just shared.

Well, some things never change.

Excellent beginning! I love your writing style; it's extremely fun and amusing!
Looking forward to more!
Shan
XoXo

Same here!!!!!!!!!It's wondeful,PAMS please!!!!!!

Thank you all so much

And don't worry I shall post more very shortly

You had BETTER post!

Truth is found out

No matter how hard

It tries to stay secret


A few weeks after the kissing neck whacking head on cauldron bottom holding Ron so close that I never wanted to let him go fiasco, we received a visit from Harry and Ginny, with a gurgling Sirius in tow.


“Oh he is so CUTE!” I cooed, undoing the straps on his buggy, and lifting him out gently.
Cradling him in my arms, I said to Ginny,“How old is he now?”

Ginny, her head buried in her bag, searching for Sirius’ bottle, replied in a muffled voice,“Um, nine and a half months.”


I looked at her, surprised.“That old already?! Wow, time really does fly!”
“You’re telling me!” a voice behind me affirmed.

I looked over my shoulder, and was met by the sight of two bare chests.

Harry and Ron, both clutching a beer in their hand, plonked down on the sofa next to me. Ron pulled the tab off his can, and downed half of the beer in one go.

Burping appreciatively, Ron continued,“Time is the best chaser the England team has ever had, including Beckett, and anyone with eyes would have to admit that he is bloody brilliant! So long as Time carries on playing the way he is, England’ll have the world cup in the bag!”

I glanced at Ginny, who had finally found Sirius’ bottle, and laughed.

The look on her face was priceless. She looked completely revolted.

“Ron,” she began, distaste etched all over her face, “Harry. Why do you always feel accustomed, when in the company of each other, to remove your shirts and inflict on us your blindingly white torsos, which have not seen the light of day since the dawn of time?”
Harry, who was in the middle of draining the last few droplets of his beer, spluttered and gagged. Coughing, he lowered his can, wiped his face, and replied indignantly to Ginny,“Excuse me? A ‘blindingly white torso’? You can hardly talk Ginny, you’re a red head!”

Ginny fired up at once. “Oh, yeah Harry?! Well, at least I get up in the middle of the night and attend to my son when he’s screaming his lungs out! You just happily carry on snoring, completely oblivious to the full blown fog-horn going off next door! Do you just not care?! Or do you think that, as an auror, you’re somehow better than me, because you fight bad guys? Well, let me tell you something Harry Potter – you’re not!”

She then burst into tears, and began sobbing into the sleeve of her jumper.
Completely stunned by this sudden outburst, I looked at Harry for help.


He was looking at Ginny with a slightly dazed look on his face. I nudged him and he seemed to snap out of it. Getting up off the sofa, he walked slowly round to where Ginny was and knelt in front of her.

I signalled to Ron that we should leave them to it, and, for once, he actually got the message.
I placed Sirius back in his buggy, and followed Ron into the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind me.

“Bloody hell! What was that all about?!” Ron burst out, as soon as the door clicked into place.

“Ron, keep your voice down!” I said through gritted teeth

Rolling his eyes, Ron lowered his voice to a whisper.“There, happy now!”

I glared at him, then turned my back and walked over to the kettle. I picked it up and filled it with some water. Once I had switched it on to boil, I turned back to face Ron.

“It sounds to me,” I said quietly, “Like Ginny has been having one too many broken nights, and Harry hasn’t had any.”

"We are talking sleep, right?" Ron grinned.

My jaw dropped.

"RON!!"

"Alright, alright," he said, hands raised. “Well, I don't knwo why Ginny is complaining - it’s a woman’s place to look after the baby!”

I opened my mouth, appalled.
“Ron!” I said, charging forwards and whacking him round the head repeatedly with my hand, “You sexist PIG!”

“Ow! Stop it, you mad bat!” Ron yelled, trying to push me away.

“YOU,” I snarled angrily, “ARE. THE. MOST. HORRID. MAN. I. HAVE. EVER. HAD. THE. MISFORTUNE. OF. MEETING!”

I gave him one final thump, and then backed away, breathing hard.

Ron looked up from underneath his arms, which he’d thrown over his head to protect himself from my attack.

“Hermione,” he gasped. “You are VIOLENT!”

“Well,” I replied nastily, “You deserved it!”

Ron let his arms drop to his sides, and straightened up.

“Oh?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “And did I deserve to be attacked that time you set a flock of canaries on me in our 6th year?”

I felt myself turn red at the memory of it. God, it must’ve been so obvious why I did it.

To hide my discomfort, I stuck my chin out, and replied stonily,“Yes. You did.”

Ron’s eyebrows rose even higher.

“And why, may I ask, was that?”

Ok, maybe it wasn’t obvious. Bummer.


What am I supposed to say now?!


“Um,” I stammered, desperately trying to think of an excuse.

Thankfully, I was saved by the whistling of the kettle, which had just boiled.

I hastily turned round, and began making some tea. Sadly this distraction was not big enough to divert Ron’s attention.


“Hermione? Answer please?”

I looked up at the ceiling, cursing my bad luck.

The canary incident happened five years ago, and he chooses to bring it up now?


My life sucks.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to face him.

“You want to know the truth?” I asked.


Ron looked at me like I was completely dense.

“Well, duh,” he replied.

Sighing, I took the plunge.

“I attacked you with the canaries, because, at the time, I was jealous and angry that you’d been making out with Lavender Brown in front of me.”



Ron stared at me, evidently shocked by this revelation.

“You, you,” he stammered, “You fancy me?!”

“Fancied,” I corrected him quickly. “Not fancy. That would suggest present tense, and I cannot express enough how much I don’t fancy you anymore!”

Ron look slightly abashed after this statement, although it probably had more to do with the force of how I said it, rather than what I said.



But, come on, I’m not exactly going to admit that I fancy him now, am I?

Not that I do. Fancy him I mean.

“Uh, ok,” stuttered Ron.


He seemed quite at a loss for words, so I shoved a mug of tea in his hands, to cover the awkward silence between us.

Mercifully, Harry came into the kitchen about twenty seconds later, and informed us that it was ok to come back into the living room.

I placed my tea on the work surface, and sped out of the kitchen, not wanting to be alone with Ron for another second.


I sat down on an armchair, so that there was no chance that Ron would sit down next to me.

Ron entered a few seconds later, and re-took his place on the sofa.

I saw Ginny glance at Ron, who still looked like he was suffering from shock, and then at me, sat there, completely on edge. I saw her frown, and knew we were destined for a little chat later on.


Harry came back into the room a little while later, holding a mug of tea, which he gave to Ginny, who thanked him, and took a sip.

Harry sat down next to Ginny, took Sirius out of his buggy, and placed him on his lap.

Making sure Sirius was comfortable, Harry said seriously, “As you both are well aware, the ministry has had no success in capturing Draco Malfoy in the last five years. We now believe this is not down to any excessive brain-power on Malfoy’s part, rather that it is more down to some magical enchantment, rendering him impossible to find.”

Uh, I should probably tell you that Ron and I work as under-cover aurors. We do not work directly for the ministry, but are like freelance detectives, used when needed. The anonymity also helps, because we can infiltrate operations without suspicion.


Our latest project is really a recurring one. Malfoy has been a huge thorn in the ministry’s side. Just like Sirius was a few years ago, Malfoy is ‘the’ wizard to arrest – if the ministry arrests him, they will be guaranteed huge public popularity, and that is something the ministry cannot get enough of!

Harry continued, “This theory is supported by evidence that has just recently come to light. Do you remember, way back in our sixth year, when I over-heard Snape and Malfoy talking about an unbreakable-vow Snape had made with Malfoy’s mother?”

Ron and I nodded.

“Well, it appears that Snape honoured this vow so highly, that he concocted some magical potion just before the final battle, which would keep Malfoy from any who hunted him. Annoyingly, that includes us too.”

His words were greeted with a slight feeling of deflation. It looked like we were never going to be able to find him.

Ron voiced what I was thinking, and said peevishly, “Oh, well, yeah, that’s just brilliant! So basically, all the hard work we’ve put in over the past five years has been for nothing! Malfoy’s never going to be found(!)”



“I haven’t finished yet, Ron,” Harry replied slightly contemptuously, “There may be a way for us to break the enchantment the potion created, thus making it possible for us to locate Malfoy, and bring him to justice.”

I leant back in my chair, the full meaning of his words hitting me.


“So,” I asked inquisitively, “Malfoy might not remain hidden for much longer?”

“Nope,” replied Harry, looking satisfied.

“But,” I asked, slightly doubtfully, “How on earth are we going to break the enchantment? Surely we’d have to find out how the potion was made in the first place?”

Harry took a deep breath, and straightened up.

“How would you like to go for a little visit to St. Mungo’s secure-section?”


I gasped.


We were going to see Severus Snape.

Dun dun dun...*grins*
This is just getting better!

OMG i love it.PAMS i want to know what happend next

Please post soon.It's really good.PAMS!!!!!!!

Harry sat, dazed in the wake of Ginny’s sudden outburst until Hermione nudged him. He got up and walked slowly over to her, kneeling in front of her.

Harry didn’t even notice as Hermione placed his son back in the buggy and left the room with Ron. He just stared, dumbstruck, at his sobbing wife.

“Gin?” he said tentatively, pushing back her fringe from her face. “Ginny?”

Ginny looked up at him through bloodshot eyes, her tear-stained cheeks flushed as she fought to get control of herself.

“W-w-what?” she stuttered, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

Harry took one of her hands in his and Ginny reluctantly lifted her head.

“Babe, I had know idea you felt that way – why didn’t you say something before?”

Ginny narrowed her eyes at this.

“I have! But whenever I try and broach the subject you have to dash off and go save the country!”

Harry frowned.

“That’s not true Gin!”

“It is Harry,” replied Ginny bitterly. “Take last week for example. I’d just put Sirius down when you came home and he started crying. I asked you if you could check on him and you said you didn’t have any time to because you needed to check out a lead you had on Draco Malfoy but promised to be home in time to bath Sirius the next day but you weren’t-”

“I was home in time to bath Sirius!” interrupted Harry with a bewildered look on his face. “We played with the floating duck and he giggled and splashed water everywhere!”

“I am aware of that,” said Ginny coldly. “You didn’t actually let me finish.”

Harry reddened under her piercing glare and regretted opening his fat mouth.

“What I was going to say, was that, yes, ok you did bath Sirius that day, but his bath time is at eight o’clock – you didn’t arrive home until eleven. I purposefully kept him up, even though I was really tired and needed to write my column, just so that when you DID finally get home, you’d have time to bond with your son. As a result, I didn’t get my column finished and was so tired that I had to dump Sirius on my mum, which, although she was thrilled to have him, made me feel really inadequate because I had to rely on my mum to look after my little boy.”

“Gin, everyone needs a break once in a while,” said Harry softly.

Ginny’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Yes, they do! But you haven’t even seemed to notice me getting steadily irritable over the past few months!”

“I have Gin, really I have. Like last month when I suggested we had an early night and you turned around and said that you weren’t in the mood.”

Ginny stared at him open-mouthed.

“Oh my GOD Harry! Just because I’m ‘not in the mood’ doesn’t mean I’m irritable! If you’d have checked the calendar, you would’ve seen that.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he realised what she meant.

“Oh,” he faltered. “I didn’t think of that.”

Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Too right you didn’t!” she replied angrily. “That’s just you all over Harry – you take everything I do at face value and don’t think to delve any deeper. If you keep carrying on as though your job is your life then it will be. You’ll miss Sirius growing up and you won’t even realise it until one day he’s the one having all these adventures you so desperately crave. You haven’t even noticed the hand print paintings adorning the fridge door – you just yank it open and grab a pint of beer. We’re in trouble Harry and you haven’t even realised.”

Harry blinked as this tirade of faults hit him.

He thought back to the last time he’d seen Ginny smile at him and realised with a jolt it had been months ago. Now all he received from her were tired looks and cutting replies to his, he now realised, thoughtless and patronising questions.

He had enjoyed the time he’d spent alone with Sirius, felt his heart swell with pride as he watched the little boy giggle and splash around in the bath, but he realised with a sinking heart that that had been the last time he’d spent any real, meaningful time with his son.

He didn’t want to miss out on Sirius’ life like his father had on his. There was no excuse for it.

And Ginny was right. They were in trouble if it could get to the point where his wife was sobbing in his best friends’ house and he didn’t even know anything was wrong.

He didn’t want to lose Ginny and he didn’t want to miss out on anything to do with Sirius. He wanted to give his family everything he’d never had but at the moment he was putting his own thirst for catching Death Eaters before his family and that was unacceptable.

He loved Ginny and Sirius more than anything else in the world – he’d been an idiot not to show it.

Taking a deep breath he met Ginny’s angry gaze.

“I’ve been an idiot,” he said simply. “I got too caught up in old ways and forgot about the real things that matter to me. My work should always and will now always come second to this family. I love you Ginny and Sirius more than life itself. Words cannot express how much I regret having not shown that. Please let’s start over and if this ever happens again feel free to hex my butt all the way to Romania, where Charlie’s dragons can fry me to a crisp and then eat me for brunch!”

Ginny smiled weakly.

“I want to believe you Harry but-”

“But nothing,” interrupted Harry firmly. “It won’t happen again.”

“Promise?” asked Ginny, pouting her lips.

“Promise,” repeated Harry, leaning forward and kissing her on the lips.

“Good,” smiled Ginny against his lips.

Harry leaned back and grinned.

“I love you Ginevra Molly Weasley.”

Ginny whacked him playfully on the arm.

“Don’t ever call me that again, or you’ll be on the couch for a week.”

“I wouldn’t mind, so long as you joined me!” Harry teased.

“Hey!” laughed Ginny, whacking him again.

Harry laughed too then looked over to the kitchen door.

“Reckon I should I go tell them that it’s safe to come out now?”

Ginny grinned.

“Yeah. Hope Hermione hasn’t killed him – I’m sure he will have said something rude.”

Harry smirked. They both knew Ron too well.

Heaving himself to his feet, he bent down and gave Sirius a quick kiss on his forehead, then walked over to the kitchen and opened the door.

Seeing the relieved look on his friends’ faces, he supressed a smile.

Hermione and Ron better get used to domestics, Harry thought happily.

When they finally got their act together and started dating, he was sure there would be no rest in the Weasley/Granger household.

i loved it PAMS

~Heather~

New Reader. Love your story. Cant' wait for more. Wish all men could see how us wemen feel like harry finaly relized. Sorry went off on my own for a minute. Keep up the good work.

NEW READER!! I love this story!! Its wonderful! Keep posting!!!

*Mione

‘Miss-Uptight Suburban Girl’ taken from the Xbox game: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
__________________________________________________ _______________
When feelings are revealed
It’s not always black and white
Love isn’t easy
And not always right

We pulled up outside the store with the mannequin display in the window, which hid the entrance to St Mungos, at nine am the next day.
Ron was grumbling and groaning about having to go and visit Snape. After the fiftieth time of hearing him say, “But why?? I mean, can’t you get some ministry official to speak to him? I had to take six years of Snape and I aint gonna take anymore – especially if it’s voluntary!” I snapped, spun round to face him, and yelled, “Ronald Weasley – SHUT UP!!”
He looked really really scared.
I continued, “Harry has explained why Snape is needed in this investigation, and we are on the inside core of it, so it makes sense for us to talk to him. Now, if I hear you say another word about ‘why…?’ I will kick your **** all the way to Timbuktu – do you understand me?!”
Ron nodded, looking gob smacked.
“Right,” I breathed silkily, “Now get out of this car, and find a Starbucks.”
Ron looked thoroughly confused.
“Er…why?”
“Because,” I exploded angrily, “I want a very strong expresso, and you my friend, are going to get it for me!”
Eyes wide, Ron backed away from me, quickly popped open the side door, and got out, slamming it hastily behind him.
I let out a loud sigh, and slumped back in my seat. I caught Harry’s eye in the rear-view mirror.
“What?” I asked annoyed.
I saw Harry grin in the reflection, and then he turned around and looked directly at me.
“Well,” he smirked, “I swear I’ve never seen Ron look so scared – not even when Charlie accidentally let a baby dragon loose at The Burrow!”
I grudgingly laughed, then rolled my eyes.
“As much as I love Ron – in the platonic sense that is!” I added hastily. “He can be the most tiresome person in the world sometimes.”
Harry let out a derisive snort.
“You’re telling me,” He said sardonically. “You didn’t have to share a room with him for six years. Remember in our fourth year when he absolutely refused to believe I didn’t enter myself in that stupid Triwizard tournament until I nearly got burnt to a crisp?”
I shook my head. Ron was a bit of a prat when it came to feelings and such like.
Although, a little voice in my head commented snidely, you’re hardly an expert on feelings – you hardly even know what the hell is going on with your own, let alone anyone else’s!
“Shut up brain!” I said out loud.
Harry looked at me oddly.
“Er, you ok there Hermione – Brian the Brain not giving you any much agro is he?”
“You’re not funny,” I told him.
“And there’s me thinking I had a chance at becoming the next Witty Wizard – how ever shall I spend my days now?”
I glared at him, choosing to ignore his comment and turned to look out of the window at the passing muggles hurrying by to get to the latest mid-season sale, or to meet loved ones for breakfast.
I wondered if Ron had got my coffee yet.
“Aw, come on Hermione,” Harry laughed, climbing into the back of the car with me, “Lighten up! We may be the closest we’ve ever been to catching Draco Malfoy – that surely deserves some kind of joyous witticisms! Plus, Ron’s never gonna ask you out if you act like Miss Up-Tight Suburban Girl!”
Eyes wide, I swung round to look at Harry, my mouth hanging open.
“What?”
I swear I have never seen a grin as evil as the one Harry was giving me now.
“Don’t deny it Hermione – you totally dig him!”
My nostrils flared spectacularly as I mustered up the most venomous voice I could manage.
“I do not,” I spat at Harry, “In the slightest ‘dig’ Ron.”
Harry’s eyes flashed with amusement.
“Oh yeah?” he said wi