Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, but this is great fun.

Thanks go to my lovely beta, Charmed_Nay. She's great and always supportive!

"Oh, Harry... I thought you might have been Ron," Hermione said, cheeks flaming brightly. The events of the previous night had been on her mind until she'd fallen asleep and since she'd opened her eyes that morning. "Sleeping in, is he?"

"Lump's been out since I got out the shower," Harry said, stretching out for a yawn. "Went in and he was in bed already...barely anyway."

Hermione giggled. "He was quite pissed, wasn't he?" She placed a stack of toast on a plate and pushed it over to Harry. "Might as well dig in before Ron comes down to eat the lot."

"About last night," Harry began, not quite meeting her eyes.

She held up a hand. "It's all right. Really."

"Okay."

They both began eating their toast and made small talk about the party until Hermione finally decided to bring up the quarrel he'd had with Ginny. "How did it go at the Burrow?"

He shrugged. "Ginny's still angry. Feels left out."

"Well," Hermione said, wondering how to phrase her words so that he wouldn't get angry, "when you and Ron were thinking of leaving me out, I didn't like it either."

"But that's different."

"How so?"

"Well, you've always been with us. No need for us to leave you out. We work well together...us three, I mean." He grinned. "I trust you can take care of yourself... and our arses, too, if needed."

"But you don't think Ginny could?"

"I'm not saying that I don't think she's clever or can't handle herself, but if she came with us, it would break my concentration. I'd be worried about her more than other things, and I think I should make certain to get things done the right way before I try to advance my personal life."

"She is quite clever, you know."

"Yeah, just like at the Ministry when she got hurt. You saw how it was then. All of us there made it harder."

Hermione frowned. "I don't know about that. Good thing Neville was about, I'd say. He carried me around while injured himself after I was hexed. And for that matter, look at Ron. He was a bit worse off than Ginny!"

Chuckling, Harry nodded and said, "I suppose we all could have done things better. I just don't want any more people dying because of me." He shrugged sadly. "Ginny told me that she wouldn't wait for me."

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione said with a small gasp, reaching over to squeeze his hand for a moment.

"Said she loves me, always has, but she's waited all these years, and while she thought she could let me do my thing, it really bothers her that I won't confide in her or trust her enough to join." His gaze hardened. "It's not a matter of trust, you know. I'm just doing it the way Dumbledore would have wanted, and it's my instinct that it's better this way for the both of us."

"I can understand how you feel." She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure that she'll come round once things are over."

"Hermione, do you ever think about the end?"

"Always."

"No, I mean really think about it. What if one of us dies? What if I can't handle another meeting with Voldemort?"

"Do you not think you're ready? Want we should practice hexes and study some counter-curses?"

"Maybe we should," he admitted. "I'm not scared exactly...at least not for myself, but it's for all of you. I just don't want to let any of you down, don't want to be responsible for any other lives being lost."

"We've chosen our parts in this and know the risks, Harry. Think of the good we'll be doing for our world if we are successful. There's no way that I wouldn't want to be a part of that."

He nodded. "Girls are confusing, you know. As I was leaving last night, she kissed me and told me that I'd better stay safe or else." Sarcastically, he added, "This is after she told me she'd not wait for me, mind."

Hermione laughed. "She was obviously just trying to shake you, make you see things her way. You're quite stubborn. Actually, the both of you are. I don't see how you've got on this long to be honest."

"Is that right?" he asked playfully.

"What are you two on about so early?" Ron asked, coming in and holding his head. "Wish I had something for this hangover."

"That'll teach you," Hermione said, cheeks flushing again as she met his eyes.

"Ah, still angry I see," he said sourly and plopped down next to Harry. "I figured you would be!"

"Why would I be?" she asked, clearly puzzled.

"Probably because I interrupted," Harry cut in. "And sorry about that, mate. I didn't realize you two would... er... I didn't know... I mean to say..."

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Ron asked, snatching a piece of toast from the dish in the center of the table. He nodded towards Hermione. "We had a small row, and she stormed off."

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. "But I went back in and talked to you."

"Yeah? Came to talk to me in my room, eh? Well, I was a bit busy sleeping and didn't hear it. Came to apologize, did you?"

"I don't like your attitude," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you... Do you mean to say that you don't remember me coming back to the study to talk to you and, uh, anything else?"

Flashing her an incredulous look, he said, "I was going to go to your room, but I changed my mind and went to my own."

"And you changed into your pajamas and went back down for some more drinks," Hermione said softly. "I went there to talk to you."

Ron smirked and shook his head before looking at Harry. "She's mental. I didn't come back down here."

"Er... I hate to say it, Ron, but you've gone mad. Don't you remember when I got back from the Burrow? You and she were in the study and had been about to..." He looked over to Hermione. "Sorry, Hermione."

Tears stung Hermione's eyes. "You've gone too far this time," she whispered and fled the room.

"What'd I say? What do you mean she and I were in there? I don't remember that."

"You were right pissed if you ask me," Harry put in. "You were missing your shirt, and she was trying to hurry and get dressed again. I saw that both of you looked ruffled, not to mention a bit miffed at my interruption."

"Bloody hell," Ron said, realization finally coming to him. "Do you mean that I was about to," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "shag and can't bloody remember?" He viciously stuffed the remainder of the toast into his mouth and chewed open mouthed. "Last I remember, we had an argument over a misunderstanding. Well, it's quite fuzzy, really, but the last thing I remember is going to my room."

"You were with her...making up apparently...and when I went to the room to talk to you about Ginny, you were already passed out." Harry snickered. "Drooling, one leg hanging off the bed, shirt partially over your head still."

"Suppose I should go talk to her," Ron said quietly. "She probably thinks I was just being a git, but I really don't remember." He stood and snatched another slice of toast for his walk up to Hermione's room. "Thanks, Harry."

"Anytime."

He paused in the doorway. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

Walking back to Harry, looking behind him to make sure Hermione wasn't lurking near the doorway, he asked, "How did I look?"

"Sorry?"

"I mean to say... Did it look like I had things under control?"

Harry shrugged. "I stormed in and didn't really notice at first, but I saw that you looked angry...no shirt, pajama bottoms riding down low. That's when I realized that Hermione wasn't all the way dressed. She was buttoning her shirt."

"What'd you see?" Ron demanded, jaw clenched and eyes wide.

"Don't worry. I didn't see anything else." He shrugged. "In fact, I don't know who was more embarrassed...me or her."

"Oh, I know, mate. I didn't think you were gawping or anything. Just wondering, you know, what exactly was going on when you came in."

"You should take that up with Hermione, Ron," Harry said, looking uncomfortable.

"Right." With that, Ron bowed and quickly left the room.

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Draco watched through narrowed eyes as his mother stirred Snape's cauldron and smiled at something he was reading to her. He hated that they seemed so close. Although she claimed that nothing intimate was going on, he'd overheard his aunt and Rabastan talking, and unfortunately, they believed that there was definitely something going on between the pair...Rabastan even claiming to have heard them going at it once or twice.

Believing in his mother, he assumed that they were simply speculating and believing the worst. Smirking, he thought of his father and what he'd have to say to Snape about things. His smirk faded as the image of the Dark Lord flitted through his mind, narrowed red eyes coldly glaring into his, his high-pitched laughter enjoying the torture of those who'd failed him. Would his father suffer the man's wrath? Would they all be discarded?

Snape had told the Dark Lord that he'd found him outside, and now he was restricted from even stepping foot outside the old infirmary. All he'd wanted was some fresh air and to think about things, and he'd ended up being confronted by someone he'd thought to be Weasley. He was certain Snape had become suspicious of his motives and reasons for being out when it'd seemed like he was warning Weasley. He was grateful, though, that Snape hadn't informed the Dark Lord about that. He supposed he did owe a debt of gratitude for that at least.

There has to be something I can do, Draco thought desperately. Kind words found their way into his memory, as did the gentle, though weak, eyes of Headmaster Dumbledore. As much as he hated to admit it, there was only one place he could turn. However, he didn't think he could lower himself enough to go beg for help from someone he'd never got on with and had always despised. Besides, what would his father say if he knew the traitorous thoughts drifting through his mind? Dumbledore's words had sounded confusing and good at the time, but that chance was over.

So there was indeed no place he could turn... unless he had something to bargain with, which he most certainly had, come to think of it. Nodding and bringing a hand up to his chin, he began plotting a way out of his situation. Perhaps there was something to what the old codger had said after all. He only hoped it wouldn't get his family killed.

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"I guess it just hurt that you didn't even remember what happened between us. It was amazing," Hermione said with a small smile. "At first, I thought you were just being a prat and pretending to not remember."

"Maybe you could show me in the Pensieve?" Ron asked hopefully.

Hermione's cheeks flushed as she shook her head. "No, that would be odd for me."

Nodding, Ron said, "Bloke's got to try, right?" With a lopsided grin, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. "I'm sorry about last night. I don't remember exactly what was said, but I expect I was being a right foul git."

"Not just you," she admitted, taking his hand in hers. "I jumped to conclusions and let my nervousness speak for me. I..."

"What?"

"This feeling between us is wonderful, isn't it? I've fancied you for a while, and I can feel it all growing...the love...each day. Last night... I thought I might burst with affection for you, especially after we came together in such a way." She bit her lip for a moment, gathering her courage, and boldly whispered, "I want to feel that again soon."

Swallowing thickly, Ron nodded and grinned, leaning closer to kiss her before saying, "I'd like that, too."

Opening her mouth to deepen the kiss, Hermione eagerly tangled her tongue with his in hopes of rekindling the intensity they'd shared the night before. Unfortunately, he seemed overeager and had reverted back to his normal wet kissing. She idly wondered if the whisky had affected him as it had with her...giving confidence and the ability to be quite smooth. When he pulled back, breaking their kiss, she quickly said, "Don't stop."

"Hermione... Harry knows we're up here talking, and I don't think he'd miss us for a while." This was said with his eyes not quite meeting hers and shyness lacing his voice.

He wanted her to be the one to suggest that they pick up where they'd stopped the night before. Deciding to do just that, she moved away from him and flicked her wand towards the door, warding it for privacy. That done, she placed her wand on the small table nearby and pulled her jumper over her head, baring her scantily clad abdomen to him.

Getting the hint, he quickly pulled his shirt from his trousers and tossed it aside, once again showing her his pale, freckled chest and the ginger hairs sparsely dusting its center. Once her fingers moved to her waistband to unfasten and then push down her jeans, he did the same with his, nearly tripping over his trainers, which he'd not kicked off before trying to step free of his clothing.

She grinned and reached out to steady him. After his shoes and trousers were kicked away, he drew her closer for another kiss, hands moving over her back and gripping her arse. "Mmmm," he moaned in approval as her breasts crushed against his chest.

Enjoying the way he responded to her, she slipped her hands between them to unfasten her bra, allowing her breasts to spring free and press against him, flesh on heated flesh. His hands quickly grabbed the straps and moved them down her arms so that the garment would fall to the floor with their other clothes.

The excitement was nearly too much to bear, and she could feel herself becoming aroused as his hands began to fondle her breasts. He wasn't as gentle as he had been the night before, but she enjoyed his touches nonetheless. Eager teeth began nipping at her hardened peaks, causing her to moan.

"Off," she said, tugging at his underpants.

"And you," he murmured while hurrying to do her bidding.

Feeling only slightly shy about being naked with him in the daylight, she pushed down her knickers and waited for his comments. When he simply grinned and nodded dazedly, she dared to lower her eyes to see his already aroused state, which was jutting from a nest of light-colored curls.

"All right?" he asked.

"All right," she replied.

He held out his hand and gestured towards the bed with his head. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the bed where she lay down next to him and accepted his attentions.

After a few minutes of snogging and heated caressing, she felt a little frustrated that he wasn't nibbling the undersides of her breasts as he had the night before, and his fingers seemed a bit rough as they greedily groped and explored her center. Finally having enough, she reached down to still his hand. In a soft voice, she said, "Go slower and press on this like you did last night." She placed his index finger on her clitoris and moved it in circles. "Just a little more pressure," she said, enjoying the sensation.

While he continued to touch her as she'd directed, she bent slightly and reached down to close her hand over his erection.

"Oh, yeah," he said, nodding vigorously. "A little tighter." She tugged and pumped him a few times before he spoke again. "Can't put it off any longer," he mumbled and moved between her thighs. Within seconds he was pushing his hard, swollen prick into her, and she tried to open a little more to accommodate him. However, there was an immediate, piercing pain that rendered her immobile and caused her to cry out faintly.

"Ah..."

"Yeah, yeah... me too. Ooh, Hermione," he mumbled, continuing to move in a steady pace.

Not feeling comfortable enough to move with him, she buried her face in the safe spot where his neck met his shoulder. It didn't take long for him to shudder and pronounce that he was nearly done. Clutching him closely, she ran her hands over his back as his body quaked with his release.

After what had occurred so quickly sunk in, he peppered her face with small, happy kisses. "Wicked. You felt so good! Way better than... er... anything else." His mouth founds hers briefly. "I can't wait to do it again...maybe go slower."

She nodded and closed her eyes, pretending to be content. Something was bothering her, though, and she couldn't quite place what it was. It wasn't that she was disappointed in the lack of orgasm for her, but it was something else. First times aren't all sunshine and flowers, she thought logically. We'll get better with time.

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The next few days passed by quickly while everyone prepared for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Hermione had been able to take the time to read over as much information regarding Godric Gryffindor and the other founders as she could. Things with Ron hadn't been awkward at all after their lovemaking, but he did seem to think that it entitled him to constantly have access to her body in some form or other. She didn't mind his attention, but she wished he'd put that much effort into the research they needed to have done. Harry tried to help as much as he could, but he sometimes went off to his room alone to go over some hexes in one of the books they'd found in the study. Hermione knew that he needed to do that more than anything. She hadn't told him, but she was also worried about the next time they'd meet Voldemort. However, she had faith in Harry and his ability to do things that nobody else could do.

"Any luck?" Harry asked, plopping down next to her.

"Yes, this map supposedly shows a way to his house."

"Godric Gryffindor's?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "I think it's authentic because part of its been blasted off...see the corners? I'm sure they tried to damage the map, not wanting anything of Gryffindor's in their home, but the part with directions to his home couldn't be touched. Look." She showed him the map. "Not even a small scorch or anything."

"Well, why would they keep it then?"

She shrugged. "I guess just to have it. I mean, they do have all of this Slytherin information here. I suppose they thought it funny to have something so many others would cherish. They likely wouldn't want to give it up, thinking someone else would go there."

"I wonder if they've gone there then?"

"It could be," she replied. "I don't like this at all. There's no telling what sort of wards or traps are in store for us. And how would Voldemort have found this? There's nothing about his old home in anything else... only these papers."

"Maybe," Ron said, joining them with a bowl of crisps, "they tried to find it or go there, but they couldn't get in. We don't know that they actually found it or not."

"We have no choice but to try," Harry added.

"It's likely that it's here only because Voldemort gave it to one of the Blacks to hold. Sirius' brother didn't mind joining his ranks. The whole lot was probably on his side."

"True," Hermione conceded.

"When should we go?"

"How about after Bill's wedding," Ron suggested. "We could go there, make an appearance, eat some food, and be off. Nobody would be popping round to look for us. They'll all be there."

"Brilliant."

"All right. I suppose that makes sense." Hermione stood. "Let's get a few things together then. We don't know what we'll come up against, and we might have to spend the night away from here. Who knows?"

"Sounds like a plan," Ron said before crunching on a handful of crisps.

While packing for what could be an overnight excursion, Hermione found the picture that she'd nicked from Headmistress McGonagall's office. Her eyes were once again drawn to Dumbledore and Snape. They seemed so close. How could he have murdered him? As before, they seemed to sense her presence and gazed out at her. Dumbledore placed an affectionate hand on his younger friend's shoulder while Snape gazed at her intently, a small smile playing on his lips. There was something about the way he looked at her that seemed familiar. She supposed being his pupil for six years had much to do with that, but the thing that amazed her the most was that she'd never really seen him this relaxed or happy looking. He seemed to genuinely care about the headmaster.

Frowning in disappointment, she shoved the picture back to the bottom of the drawer she kept her socks in. She had more important things to think about than Severus Snape!

Southern's Notes: Sorry the chapter is so short, but I'd like to think of it as a transition chapter. This was necessary for the rest of the plot to unfold, and I really couldn't add any more without cutting into the next chapter's important bits. There will be Snape and Hermione interaction in the next chapter again.