Dink. Dink. Dink.

Harry Potter stirred in his bed.

Scratch. Dink.

"Wha?" he stretched and yawned and rolled over to find
three owls pecking at his window. He glanced at his
clock; it read 1:30 a.m.

He suddenly remembered it was his birthday. He sat up,
swung his legs over the side of his bed and made his
way to the window to let the owls in. All three bore
letters; they hopped in and onto the dresser that sat
even with the window. The first, a dusty brown barn
owl, was carrying a letter and package from Hogwarts.
The second package was clearly from Ron, as it was
delivered by his owl, Pig. As for the third, Harry was
clueless as to its sender.

Harry picked up Ron’s package; it was so heavy, he
wondered how Pig had been able to carry it. A box of
Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans fell out, along with
a homemade birthday cake.

He anxiously opened the letter:

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday. I hope you like the gift. I bought the
beans, and my mom baked the cake. I hope the Dursleys
aren't treating you badly. Write back quickly if you'd
like to stay at the Burrow for the rest of the
holidays. We can pick you up.

Happy birthday again!

Ron

Harry set aside the delicious cake to keep himself
from eating it while he dealth with the other two
owls. Judging from the crude wrapping of the package
the Hogwarts owl carried, Harry guessed it was from
Hagrid. Inside, he found Hagrid's own treacle fudge
and the usual happy birthday card. Smiling, he set it
aside and opened the other letter.

In neat handwriting, the supplies he would need for
the coming school year were listed. His breath caught
in his throat when he read the P.S.:

Harry Potter is hereby reinstated to the Gryffindor
Quidditch Team and will serve this season as its
seeker and captain.

Harry had already been very happy about Ron's
suggestion and the delicious food. He was now verging
on ecstatic over being back on the Gryffindor
Quidditch Team -- and as the seeker and captain on top
of it all.

The last owl, it turned out, was from Hermione. The
letter he bore was very thin, and Harry wondered what
it could possibly say. His heart fluttered. He had
begun to think over the summer about everything they
had been through since they had become friends five
years ago -- and he was beginning to hope their
relationship might come to be more then mere
friendship. Holding his breath, he opened the
envelope, and all that fell out was a small parchment.
He unrolled it.

Meet me outside Gringotts, Saturday, 1 p.m.

-- Hermione

Harry had absolutely no clue what this could mean, but
he was very excited and intrigued nonetheless. He
wondered if it meant she wanted to give him something
too big to send by owl ... or something else ...

Wait, Harry stopped himself. Could she
possibly have feelings toward me? Or am I just
projecting that on Hermione because I'm starting to
have feelings for her?

Shoving those thoughts out of his head, Harry grabbed
a fresh parchment and quill and took to writing
quickly back to Ron.

Ron,

Of course I will come!

I got my letter from Hogwarts, and it said that I
could be on the Quidditch team again -- as the seeker
and captain!

Hermione sent me this weird card, I will tell you
about it when I get there.

Pick me up on Friday at 9 a.m.

See you then!

-- Harry

Harry couldn’t wait to go to the Burrow. He was
getting sick of Dudley's complaining about his meals.
And he was getting sick of Petunia's making him follow
Dudley's diet; it was intended to make Dudley feel
better, but Harry was smart enough to hide sweets and
cakes under the loose floorboard in his bedroom.

His thoughts returned to Hermione; when he did this,
the blood rushed to his head and his heart started to
pound faster. Adrenaline started to pump through his
veins. He couldn’t wait until Saturday. He was still
wondering what exactly Hermione was thinking.

Will she tell me she loves me? Harry wished.
What will Ron think?

Ron had, after all, once told Hermione he loved her.
Hermione had rejected him and explain at length so Ron
wouldn’t go mad.

***

It was finally Friday; Harry awoke bright and early in
anticipation of getting to see Ron, being able to
practice Quidditch on his Firebolt, to be immersed in
magical surroundings and out of the Muggle world.

Friday meant that tomorrow would be Saturday, and
Harry started to think more about the card from
Hermione. He was now even more anxious and confused.
Maybe I shouldn't jump to conclusions, he
thought. Maybe she doesn't want more than
friendship.

He went to the kitchen to find Dudley in one of his
usual tantrums about his breakfast.

"Eat your grape fruit or no pie," snapped Petunia.

Harry smiled to himself. Nothing could make him mad
today, not his Uncle Vernon’s criticizing, not
Petunia's nagging, not Dudley's whining. He only had
to wait another couple hours to go to the Burrow.

***

At 9 on the dot, the Weasleys arrived just as they had
two years prior -- causing just as big a ruckus.

In a cloud of smoke, Mr. Weasley came through the
fireplace first, followed by Ron, then Mrs. Weasley.

“AAAAHHHH,” Dudley ran to his room in terror, afraid
that the Weasley twins -- who had once caused his
tongue go grow to ten times its usual size -- would
also be coming through the fire at any moment.

"Hello, Harry!" Mr. Weasley beamed. "Got all your
things?"

Uncle Vernon grunted in fury, causing Mr. Weasley to
spin around.

"Oh! Why hello there ... uh ... Vernon. Uh ... can you
tell me about the wonders of elteckticy, or whatever
you call it? I've been so curious to find out its
qualities,” he tried to make conversation.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS, WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE
DOING HERE?" he roared.

Harry gulped.

"I WAS NEVER INFORMED OF YOUR COMING. YOU SCOUNDRELS
GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Vernon hollered.

The Weasleys and Harry took a collective step back.

"Oh, I'm so sorry I have to do this to you," Mrs.
Weasley said under her breath and cast a light
stunning spell on Vernon. (The Ministry of Magic would
laver have to modify the Dursleys' memories so they
wouldn’t beat Harry when he returned.)

"Quickly now!" Mr. Weasley proclaimed, and they
gathered Harry's belongings. Ron grabbed the Firebolt.
("Can I ride the Firebolt when we get back,” he said
out of the side of his mouth to Harry.) He was so
anxious that he almost broke it.

Vernon began to stir, and Mr. Weasley helped him up.

“Can you tell me how the Muggle post works?" he asked,
trying again to make conversation. Mrs. Weasley
dragged him away, knowing well Vernon would not be
answering.

Vernon shook his head and sneezed.

“GET OUT OF MY HOME!” Vernon's rage grew when he
realized he was covered in soot.

As Harry stepped into the fireplace and threw down the
floo powder, he went from the anxiety of the Dursleys
to the anxiety of thinking about Hermione. I can
hardly wait, he thought, smiling as his body
twisted through the Floo Network.

A Conversation, An Accident, A meeting

Harry arrived at the Burrow, closely followed by a
horde of Weasleys. He was practically tackled by Mr.
Weasley as he came through.

“Ron,” blurted Harry, ”I need to tell you something,
but it’s very …uuuuuhh … personal. Can we go up to
your room to talk about it.”

Ron nodded.

"Harry can stay in my room!" Ron said a little too
enthusiastically. "I'll help him take his belongings
upstairs!"

They each took hold of a handle on Harry's trunk and
trudged to their room closely followed by the Weasley
twins. Knowing full well that Fred and George were
planning to eavesdrop, Ron and Harry looked at one
another to quickly formulate a plan. Harry motioned by
tilting his head to one side and Ron nodded. In one
quick motion, Harry and Ron shoved the twins out of
the way and dashed to their room, where they
barricaded the door with a couple chairs and a desk.

"Are we safe from them," whispered Harry.

"I think so. Besides, if Mum catches them listening
in, they would get major punishment,” Ron said.

Harry was dubious whether Ron would care at all about
what he was about to say, and if he did, how he would
react. Will he start hating me? Harry fretted
silently.

"Ron, on my birthday I got this letter from Hermione,
well actually a small parchment,” said Harry. "It said
to meet her outside Gringotts, tomorrow at 1 p.m.,
well I’m not quite sure what she wants but, I have
been thinking about everything we have been through in
the past years ... and ... well um ... I
think I am in love with Hermione. And I might tell her
tomorrow."

“Har--” Ron started.

"Ron, I really don't want you to be mad at me, because
I know that you once told her that you loved her,”
Harry cut in quickly, "but now that I have thought
about it, I love her with all my heart!”

"Harry -- that’s brilliant,” Ron interjected. "I
actually really don’t love her anymore -- I just want
to see her happy, you know?"

"Well, that’s great," Harry exclaimed. "I was afraid
you were going to come off on me or something!"

One down, one to go, Harry thought to himself,
amazed and happy that Ron didn’t love her any more.
Now, what should I do tomorrow?

***

Later that afternoon, Harry, Ron, Fred, and George
trudged of toward the open field behind the Burrow so
they could practice. They brought along some used
Quaffles and Bludgers from Charlie and Bill's
Quidditch-playing days. But the Weasleys didn't have a
Golden Snitch, so the foursome had to bring along
Muggle golf balls (that Arthur had nicked from work,
naturally) to bewitch for Harry's sake. They all made
a bet on how many golf balls Harry could catch out of
100. Two hours later, Harry had caught 94 of 99.

Fred and George decided to really test Harry on the
final ball. They had Mr. Weasley blast the ball 500
feet in the air. It shot up at tremendous speed as
Harry took off on his speedy Firebolt. When he got
about 150 feet, up a sharp streak of searing pain shot
through his forehead. He lost control; he blacked out
and fell off his broom from 200 feet in the sky.

”HAAARRRRRYYY!” all the Weasleys were yelling and
hollering as he fell, picking up speed. Mrs. Weasley
came dashing out of the Burrow and pointed her wand at
Harry, attempting to break his fall, but the charm she
cast was too late and not strong enough. Harry at hit
the ground with a sickening thud.

A flock of Weasleys descended on him.

Mr. Weasley bent over Harry and tried to wake him.

"Molly, we have to get him to St. Mungo's," Arthur
said, urgency and fear pervading his voice.

Mrs. Weasley levitated him so that Harry floated
between her and her husband.

"Boys, we are going to Disapparate there with Harry,"
she said, her voice shaky. "You stay put. One of us
will be back as soon as possible to get you."

***

When Mr. and Mrs. Weasley apparated in the emergency
ward of St. Mungo's, Harry between them, the healers
rushed to their aid.

"What happened?" said a tall, lean healer with a gray
and blond goatee.

Mr. Weasley was the first to gather himself.

"He fell," Arthur breathed, "from high up. I don't
know how high -- he was practicing Quidditch."

The healer furrowed his brow and put a hand on Harry's
chest. "We need to take care of this boy now," he
motioned to two other healers who had just pushed
through the double doors leading back to the ward.

As they carried Harry off, Mrs. Weasley buried her
face in her husband's chest and began to cry. Mr.
Weasley rubbed his wife's back, attempting to soothe
her. "Molly, you should go back home and bring the
boys. Have a cup of tea. If I hear anything before you
get here, I'll let you know right away," he said
gently. "OK?"

Molly nodded and sniffled. "You're right. OK."

She squeezed him gain, stepped back and Disapparated
to the Burrow.

***

Ron, Fred and George breathed deeply and looked at one
another. Fred was the first to speak.

"Well ... I guess we better gather the Quidditch
supplies ..." he trailed off.

Ron picked up Harry's Firebolt where it had fallen as
well as his and the twins' brooms. Fred and George
filled their arms with Quaffles and Bludgers. They
started back toward the house.

When they had put the Quidditch supplies away, Ron
realized Harry was supposed to visit with Hermione
tomorrow. He thought quickly and sent a letter to
Hermione:

Hermione,
Harry's in St. Mungo's. He got hurt during Quidditch
practice. Dad's there. I'll be there soon. You should
visit him there tomorrow.

See you then.

Ron

As Ron sent Errol off with the letter, Mrs. Weasley
arrived back in the Burrow. A cup of tea later, Mrs.
Weasley, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny were traveling by
Floo to St. Mungo's.

***

They met Mr. Weasley in the waiting room and sat in
worried silence. An hour later, the healer who had
taken Harry back emerged from the large double doors,
a clipboard under his arm.

"First, let me assure you, he's going to be OK," he
said in a worn voice. "We managed to stop the bleeding
and mend his bones. But he's going to need a lot of
rest. We'd like to keep him for at least a few days
for observation."

Molly let out a sob of joy.

"Can we see him?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Yes," the healer replied. "Follow me."

***

Harry awoke after several hours to find the Weasley
family standing over him.

"He's awake! He's awake!" Ginny smiled.

"Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.

As Harry attempted to sit up, he suddenly felt searing
pain in his head. "Oooooh," he moaned and fell back to
his pillow.

"Hi, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "You're in St.
Mungo's."

"What happened?" Harry asked. "Last thing I remember,
I was catching golf balls and my scar started to hurt
..."

"You fell off your broom, mate," Ron explained. "You
fell really far. But the healer says you'll be OK--"

"With rest! Lots and lots of rest!" Mrs. Weasley cut
him off. "Don't get him over-excited."

Harry gave a small smile. Typical Mrs. Weasley,
he thought.

"But we thought he had died, Mum!" Ron exclaimed, half
to Harry. "Mum and Dad Disapparated you here. I sent
an owl to Hermione and told her to come here tomorrow
morning instead of Gringotts! Oh! And your broom! Your
broom was OK, and I made sure it was safe and sound
and put it in --”

"I'm sure Mr. Potter does not doubt his broom's
safety," said a voice. Dumbledore had entered the
room.

Ron turned a light shade of pink as Dumbledore crossed
the room to Harry's bed.

Harry was happy to be surrounded by his favorite
people -- but his stomach did a somersault when he
thought about Hermione's visiting the next afternoon.

After an hour of conversation, and after Harry had
eaten a light dinner, Mrs. Weasley saw that Harry was
looking sleepy.

"Well," she said, "I think someone needs his rest!"

The Weasley children grumbled, but they knew better
than to argue with their mother when she was in
nuturing mode.

"Come on, come on, don't dawdle!" And with that, she
pushed her family and Dumbledore toward the door.

"Good night, Harry!" said Mr. Weasley.

"Feel better!" said Ginny.

"See you tomorrow!" said Ron.

Dumbledore simply smiled and winked.

"Sleep well, dear," said Mrs. Weasley quietly as she
closed the door behind her.

Harry pulled the covers up, settled in and, despite
the pain he was still in, drifted off to sleep.

***

Harry awoke the next morning to Ron beckoning him to
eat some breakfast. He didn't feel like eating, but he
had a sneaking suspicion Mrs. Weasley had put Ron up
to the task, so he did anyway.

"You made the front page, mate!" Ron exclaimed,
holding up that day's Daily Prophet.

The headline read, "Potter in St.Mungo's."

"Apparently, everyone is worried," said Ron, and he
began to read from the article. "'Wizards and witches
young and old are frantic for Harry Potter's safety
after it was revealed yesterday by an anonymous source
that the Boy-Who-Lived was admitted to St. Mungo's
with a malady the source refused to divulge. "It was
touch-and-go for a while," said the source.' Blimey,
Harry, everyone knows!"

Just then a healer's assistant entered the room,
pushing a cart full of letters and sweets for Harry.

"Owls have been arriving all morning with this stuff,"
the young, dark-haired man said. "This is just the
first load. You might want to ask the Daily
Prophet to print an article that says, 'Stop
Sending Harry Potter Gifts,'" he sighed and turned to
leave.

Harry and Ron laughed, and Ron pulled out a box of
Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, opened it and began
to eat. "Oh! Caramel!" he munched.

"Oooohhhh," Harry said. "My scar!"

"Should I get a healer?" Ron said, spitting out a
lima-bean-flavored bean.

But Harry had already blacked out from the severe pain
that made his head feel as though it were about to
implode.

***

Several hours later, Harry moaned and stirred. He
half-opened his eyes and saw a blurry, bushy figure
standing over him. He shut his eyes and opened them
again, trying to focus.

"Here," said a familiar voice, "take your glasses."

He put them on and smiled at what he saw.

"Hermione," whimpered Harry painfully.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione hugged him.

“Hermione?” whimpered Harry in pain.

“Oh, Harry!" Hermione pulled back from her embrace.
"Are you all right? Did I hurt you? When I got Ron’s
letter I-I d-d-didn’t know what t-t-to d-d-do,”
Hermione began to cry and hugged him again.

“Hermione I’m all right,” said Harry. "Well ... what
I’m particularly worried about is the fact that, when
I fell off my broom, my scar, well, hurt,” Harry
stopped as a pain shot through his scar, and he passed
out.

“Harry, Haaaaarrrrrry! RON, go get someone to help
Harry. Oh Harry wake up, wake up,” Hermione sobbed.

***

Harry woke up hours later to find Dumbledore peering
over him.

“Harry,” said Dumbledore when Harry first stirred.
"Hermione told me about your scar's hurting."

Harry shot bolt up at the mention of his scar.

“Settle down, settle down," Dumbledore shook a hand at
him. "Yes, we need to talk about your scar, but that's
no reason for you to not lie comfortably."

He patted Harry's pillow, and Harry fell back, trying
to fix his ears to listen since his scar still ached.

“Now, Harry, do you have any idea why your scar hurt
when you feel off your broom?" Dumbledore asked,
looking at Harry over his half-moon spectacles.

“Not really," Harry gulped. "I just remember it
hurting then going blank. Well, I remember hearing my
mother screaming. Do you think it could be the
Dementors? I always heard that when they attacked ..."

“Well it’s possible. But I highly doubt it. We believe
it was a Death Eater using a disillusion charm who
attacked you on Voldemort's behalf -- which made
Voldemort happy enough to cause pain to surge through
your scar," Dumbledore explained. "But as you can see,
it is not safe for you to be out and about, even at
the Burrow. You will have to be under protection at
all times, Harry."

Just then a healer passing by poked her head in.
"'scuse me!" she said. "But I think the lad needs his
rest -- visiting hours are over!"

Dumbledore stood and waved her on. "We can discuss the
arrangements later. But members of the Order will be
assigned to guard you here in St. Mungo's and when you
are released; I promise they will be as unobtrusive as
possible."

He turned to leave.

“Dumbledore?” questioned Harry. "Could you send
Hermione in -- just for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” chuckled Dumbledore. "You should say
'yes,' by the way.” Dumbledore winked and left,
leaving Harry with his mouth agape. He always
knows, Harry thought. How does he always
know?

***

Hermione came running in a minute later.

“Harry, oh, Harry,” she whispered. "I suppose you
want to know why I wanted you to meet me. Well, Harry,
I … wanted to tell you, I, well ..."

“Hermione--" Harry started.

"No. I'm going to do this ..." Hermione cut him off.
"Will you be my boyfriend? I mean, oh, Harry, I really
like you -- I've wanted to tell you this for some
time, and I finally worked up the courage to write to
you to meet me so I could tell you, and I just want to
know if you feel the same way and ..."

“Hermione--” Harry started again.

"Oh, I shouldn't have just said it out straight. Do
you hate me now," she was nearly in a panic now.

"Hermione, if you would listen to me," Harry tried to
be gentle in his exasperation, "I'm trying to tell you
I like you, too. I might even ... well ... love you
..."

At this, Hermione leapt at him, threw her arms around
his neck and hugged him tightly.

"Oooof," Harry breathed. "Hermione? Could you loosen
your grip?"

"Oh!" Hermione jumped back. "Sorry -- I didn't mean to
..." She picked up his hand. "It's just that I think I
love you, too."

Harry felt a ball of warmth in his belly begin to
grow, spreading out to his limbs and stretching the
smile on his face. He squeezed her hand (even though
it made his shoulder ache like mad).

“Harry, I was going to ask you to come to my house for
the rest of the holiday," Hermione grinned back. "But
then you got hurt," she whimpered at this, "but I'd
still like you to come -- I promise to hug you much
more gently ..."

"Well, I'll have to talk to Ron about it," Harry said.
"But I know he’ll understand.”

"Oh, wonderful!" Hermione shrieked, and Harry put a
finger to his lips to remind her to quiet down.

He frowned.

"Is your scar hurting again?" Hermione was concerned.

“No, it's not that," Harry said. "It's just that the
Order will be guarding me, and aren’t you frightened
that I might draw danger to your parents' house?"

“I've already talked about it with them," she
whispered, remembering to be quiet this time. "With
the Order guarding you, they said it would be fine."

“Well, then ... brilliant!" he said, smiling again.

"I really should go," she whispered. "Visiting hours
have been over for quite a while -- I'll see you in
the morning ..."

"I love you," Harry whispered.

"I love you, too," Hermione said as she turned to
leave. "Good night.”

He watched her leave, and settled back into his
pillow, the warmth still filling him as he drifted off
to the most restful sleep he'd had since the holiday
had begun.

***

Harry awoke with a sting in his stomach, realizing he
hadn't eaten much of anything the previous day. He put
his hand to his belly and opened his eyes -- and there
he saw a half-dozen smiling Weasleys standing over
him.

"Good morning," Harry said, sitting up.

“Harry, good news!” said Ron before anyone else could
speak. "You need a final check-up, but you can leave
today, as long as you promise to rest!"

"The Healer will be here in a moment, Harry dear,"
Mrs. Weasley beamed. "So we'll be going, but I brought
you this."

She held out a homemade spice cake and put it on his
lap.

"Now eat up," Mr. Weasley said. "Molly makes the best
spice cake. We'll be out in the waiting room."

“Ron,” called Harry, ”Stay -- I have to ask you
something."

Ron turned back as the rest of the Weasleys left the
room. "What is it, mate?"

"Would you mind if I spent the rest of the holiday
with Hermione?” Harry asked nervously.

“Sure, mate. Mum'll be a bit disappointed, but she'll
understand," Ron said, hiding his disappointment quite
well. "So, I guess you uh … told Hermione, huh?" he
winked.

"Well, you could say we're a couple, but," Harry
chuckled, "she kind of told me."

Ron laughed and shook his head. "That's so like her.
It's just ... so ... Hermione."

"Yeah," Harry nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it is."

***

Harry passed his check-up with flying colors, and the
Healer gave him several pain-killing potions to take
over the next several weeks. The nurse who had helped
Harry get dressed wheeled him out to the waiting room,
where he found the Weasleys had brought his belongings
from the Burrow. Hermione was interrogating the Healer
on the details of Harry's care.

Hermione helped Harry out of the wheelchair and slung
his arm over her shoulder so she could help him walk
to the exit -- he was so bruised and achy, it was hard
to move.

"Can you help us with those?" Hermione said to the
Healer and nodded to Harry's trunk, Hedwig's cage and
Harry's Firebolt, which had miraculously survived the
fall, save for a few scratches.

"Wha--I--well, yes, I suppose so," he said, so taken
aback that he had no other choice.

With Hermione's help, Harry was able to limp out onto
the London street outside St. Mungo's, where Mr. and
Mrs. Granger's car was waiting. Mr. Granger jumped out
of the car and grabbed Harry's belongings from the
Healer, thanking him for his help. Mrs. Granger opened
a door for Harry and she and Hermione helped helped
him into the back seat.

Hermione settled in next to him and finished buckling
Harry up just as Mr. Granger got back in the drivers
seat. "Well, welcome, Harry!" he said cheerfully.
"It'll be lovely to have you with us over the rest of
the holiday; Hermione has told us so much about you."

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Granger said. "Once you're fully
healed, we have some plans!"

Harry grinned and sat back, his fingers just barely
touching Hermione's in the space on the back seat
between them.

This is the happiest I've ever been, he
thought. He and Hermione were a carefree couple, and
he was going to stay with the Grangers for the the
rest of the summer holidays. This was definatly going
to be the best summer ever, his aches and pains notwithstanding.

Possession
“Hermione where exactly is you’re house,” asked Harry.

“Well it is a little north of London.” said Hermione,” We have a pretty big house so don’t get lost.”

“Were almost in London we’ll be there in half an hour.” said Hermione’s dad.

“Hermione?” asked Harry,” What plans did you guys have after I got healed.”

“We’ll that’s kind of our little secret. You will like it a lot though,” cut Hermione’s parents. Harry wondered what the plans could be. They arrived shortly after. As they arrive Harry stared at the magnificent house. It had a pool. There was a beautiful door that would say their house is the best at first glance.

They helped Harry get out of the car because he was hardly capable of moving. ”Were will I be sleeping,” asked Harry.

“We have a guest bedroom upstairs. It’s right next to my room. so..,” Hermione’s voice trailed off as her mom shot a dubious look at her. “So.. if you need anything you can just come over.” Harry shot a hopeful look at Hermione as she said this. Everyone walked in to the glamorous house. There was a grand staircase leading to the second floor. Harry walked forward and noticed on the left a door leading to a small kitchen. In the front there is a small dining room. To the right there was a family/living room which consisted of a large TV and a computer.

They walked upstairs and Hermione lead the way to Harry’s bedroom. Hermione’s bedroom was just to the right. “Harry, my mom is making a dinner soon. It’s also getting lat so after that we should probably go to bed.” said Hermione. Harry went upstairs helped by Hermione since he could barely walk. His room here wasn’t much bigger than his room at Privet Drive but it fit much better. Hermione’s room was slightly bigger but he didn’t care as long as they could be together.

“Harry!” yelled Hermione from her room ," It’s time for dinner my mom made pasta. Her pasta is the best. She is famous for it. She has it in a famous London restaurant.” Harry slowly made his way downstairs for pasta. He could smell the pasta from far away he thought it must be good. They ate dinner and talked about Harry and Hermione but Hermione’s parents didn’t look to enthusiastic. what could be the problem. Harry and Hermione made there way to bed happily thinking about dinner and THEM.

***

Harry felt his scar prickle but he was still asleep. He noticed a long corridor with a couple of windows. There was a door at the end of the hall he walked to it. He leaned and put his ear to the door. He heard someone talking. It was a deep voice of a man. “So… what have you found.” There was another person but he couldn’t here them because he or she were speaking to low.

“Well, stop loving him. Or this could work to our advantage.” said the cold voice. “Being close to him will give me more information. He is the only one that stands in my way!” Just as he said that he stumbled through and he saw that the other person was Hermione

He shot up right instantly while in pain searing throughout his whole body. He went downstairs as fast as possible, but he soon stopped again to two people which were both Hermione’s parents. They were deep in conversation about Harry. “Do you think it’s safe for Hermione to be with Harry like this.?” asked the women,” He is destined to fight you-know-who. What if he dies, do you think Hermione could handle it?”

“I don’t think he will die he is a strong man. He may be destined but when Hermione is at her side she cannot loose,” stated thewomen.

“Well what if he does die? What would Hermione do with her life? She would have do go through her life knowing Harry is dead and you-know-who is still out there.” said the man. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for them to be together.”

“Maybe it isn’t… I agree with you now, I don’t think Hermione could handle it if Harry died. If were wrong than were in a lot of trouble.” said the women.

His anger was about at the boiling point. No one believes he can defeat Voldemorte. He would definatly show them that them together can defeat anything. But still one question, what is with Hermione and Voldemorte.

***