Chapter 5: January

The muse is really skipping around, so I'm not sure which stories are going to be updated when. That being said, the next chapter has some already done.

Some readers have believed that Hermione told her mother in the last chapter. She did not. She panicked that her mother might have guessed, but it turned out otherwise. Re-read it carefully.

Chapter Four

Eight First Year students can fit in one compartment on the Hogwarts Express, if they're willing to be very close, four on each side. With Ron and Sally-Anne having remained at Hogwarts, that left seven Gryffindors, plus Parvati's Ravenclaw sister. Harry had invited them all to share, and none of them had declined. Harry had been sure someone would. He'd just finished telling everyone what Snape had told him about his mother. The fact that Snape had told him about his mother lead to a slight bit of disbelief in the expressions of his dorm mates especially.

Harry had helped his new Slytherin third year friend Victoria get settled in her own compartment, where she had been joined by Malfoy. Harry had been surprised when Malfoy had apologized for his behavior. He'd left her with Malfoy and Professor Snape.

Since they had left King's Cross, Hermoine had her arm around Harry. It had started shortly after she'd greeted him. It felt right to have her sitting next to him, her arm around him, snuggled close.

"So, anyone else have something interesting happen over Christmas?" Harry asked. His eyes focused on Parvati, whose hair was unusually messy, and it looked like her blouse had seen better days. Her sister appeared to be in a similar state, though Padma was already engrossed in a book. They'd been warned that nothing got through to Padma when she was reading.

"I am never taking a train in India, again," Parvati declared. "Here in Britain we can sit down on the inside of the train. All the way from Mumbai to Nagpur, on the outside of the train. The first three stations, I was hanging on the side. My father wanted to kill his older brother for not coming to pick him up. Needless to say, the rest of the holiday was very stressful. My father decided that a couple days in Majorca would be just the thing, to relieve that stress, and it wasn't bad. Though the flight back, Padma and I were caught between this whale of a man and his giraffe necked wife with their pig of a son. I swear I wanted to turn that boy into one."

The description was too close for Harry not to respond. "Did the woman call the boy her little Dudley-kins?" He asked. Parvati returned a shocked nod. "I guess that's why the social worker gave up trying to get me to go home to resolve the issues with the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia got her long wished for Christmas in Majorca."

"Harry, if I'd know it was them, I would have had Daddy complete the transformation that Hagrid started," Parvati said. "Sitting in between that man and his child ... I will not repeat the terms he used to refer to my sister and I. Lavender, I heard that you spent part of your Christmas in Southern France."

"My uncle needed me for cover, apparently," Lavender said. "I have no idea what Uncle Charlie really does for the Navy, but Mom volunteered me to go Toulon to join him for his trip home. Mom's got some new job at Thames House. I'm not sure what it is, though. Anyway, I met him on the beach next to the Harbor, just as the sun was setting. It was a beautiful sun set, with yellows, reds, and oranges streaking across the thin streaks of clouds over the harbor. Uncle Charlie actually came right out of the water to greet me."

"Did you take a picture?" Dean interrupted.

Lavender smiled, and reached into her jacket, pulling out the picture. "I knew you'd ask, anyway, he had a place to stay just a couple blocks from their. It was a nice little suite of rooms. We spent the night there, before heading to Paris in an Aston Martin who Charlie said he'd borrowed from his friend Jaime, and I was not to press any of the buttons.

"It was kind of fun. We got to Lyon in time for lunch, which we had at this little café. There was some commotion just as we sat down though. Someone drove a caravan into a news stand, apparently trying to avoid some birds. Uncle Charlie blamed his friend Jaime Suerte, although I later learnt that Suerte was not his actual last name. It was a nice lunch, the best bread I've ever had.

"We had dinner in Paris, and Uncle Charlie took me to see the Louvre the next morning. I really enjoyed looking at the art. I'm sure you wished you'd been there, Dean. We left Paris after lunch, and ended up taking the ferry home to Portsmouth from Caen. We did have to use one of those buttons... but National Security prevents me from telling you what it did."

"Come on, Lavender, you can't leave us like that, especially with such a lame excuse," Dean said. Seamus nodded in agreement.

"Sorry, can't tell you, I swore an oath," Lavender said. "Of course, if you're very nice, I might be able to show you a picture ... later. How was your Christmas, Dean?"

Harry really wanted to find out what the car was modified to do. Buttons implied that, but the big smile on Lavender's face said, it was going to be a while before she let this secret out. It would come out, he was sure though. For now, though, he wanted to find out what happened to Dean, who Harry had just noticed had a cast on his right arm and wrist. "Yes, I think we all want to know how you got that cast."

"You want to hear about the Christmas served in Hell," Dean said, drawing the word Hell, his eyes wide, effecting an expression of derangement.

"Well, with that introduction, yes," Seamus replied.

"Well, it all started on the way home from Nine and Three Quarters," Dean began, in a much more normal tone. "Mum was driving, and she hit a patch of black ice right before we got home. She lost control of the car. The car ended up totaled, upside down, in Miss McGreavney's front garden. Whole family ended up in the hospital, and I broke my wrist. Didn't get out until Christmas Eve Morning.

'That's when we discovered that the heat had went out and the pipes froze. Busted the tank above my little sister's bedroom, making it totally unlivable."

"What's a tank?" Neville asked.

"Storage place for water in the house," Dean said, shrugging. "Don't ask me how it works, I never quite figured that out. I just know that it apparently busted due to the cold, and the water ruined my little sister's ceiling, bed, rug ... just about everything she owned, really. So, my little sister got to sleep on my bed, and I got the couch."

Then with a big smile he continued, "I did get to see my sister's dwarf lop get all lit up when it started chewing on the Christmas Tree lights. Of course, I had to put fresh lights on the tree afterwards, but it was a wonderful thing to see."

"Your sister has a bunny rabbit?" Harry asked. He'd caught a cartoon on the telly during break, so he just had to ask Dean when he nodded. "So, does she love him, and hug him, and call him George?"

"No, Rab-rab," Dean said. "As far as I know its never taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque. She does love him and hug him though." Then after a moments pause he continued, "She is abominable."

Harry laughed. "So how was your Christmas, Seamus?" he asked.

"It was really good," Seamus said. "I got to sing a solo at the Christmas Eve Mass at Saint Columcille. I didna expect to, but Finnian's voice went, and Father Quinn asked if I'd take his place, as I'd sung it last year."

"You sing, Seamus?" Lavender asked. "I've never heard you sing."

"Neither have I, and you have to be good to get to sing on Christmas Eve," Hermione said.

Harry had missed Christmas Eve Service. It had been the first time in six years that he hadn't been at Saint Philip's, left in the back, away from the rest of the Dursley's, but there. It had been the one thing he'd looked forward to in the Christmas Holidays before Hogwarts, and he hadn't thought to ask about going. He missed the hymns of the holidays. "I'd like to hear some," Harry asked, tentatively.

"I guess I can sing a bit," Seamus allowed. "Course most of them are Latin."

"Sing," Harry said firmly.

Semus took a deep breath, and began to sing, his clear treble voice filling the otherwise silent compartment.

"Adeste Fideles

Laeti triumphantes

Venite, venite in Bethlehem

Natum videte

Regem angelorum"

As Harry listened to the words, his mind went back to one of those Christmas Services, seeing in his mind the star over Bethlehem, coming to settle above the manger.

"Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Dominum"

A baby in a manger. A baby growing inside Hermione. The image of the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus, one which always filled his memories from those Christmas Eves, changed, the Virgin Mary replaced by his Hermione.

"Cantet nunc io

Chorus angelorum

Cantet nunc aula caelestium

Gloria,Gloria in excelsis Deo"

Harry looked over at Hermione. The edge of his new glasses caught the light just right seeming to place a hallo over her head. As the chorus began again, her voice, and that of Lavender joined Seamus.

"Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Dominum"

Harry placed his arm around Hermione, matching that which she had been doing since they had sat down in the compartment. Seamus sang the verse alone.

"Ergo qui natus

Die hodierna

Jesu, tibi sit gloria

Patris aeterni

Verbum caro factus"

Harry pulled Hermione closer to him, his hand dropping to her waist afterwards as the whole compartment joined Seamus in the chorus.

"Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Dominum"

The Christmas Holidays were over, but the rest of the trip, other songs could be heard coming from the First Year Gryffindor compartment.

Harry Potter was still not comfortable in Hermione's wardrobe. It still reminded him way too much of the cupboard under the stairs. Still, when Hermione had asked for his help putting up the books she'd brought back, he had walked right in. He hadn't expected that Hermione would have already changed for bed, though he should have, given that she'd warned everyone that she was going strait to the baths right after they returned from the Great Hall.

Hermione had apparently received a new nightgown for Christmas. The old one had been light, and made of a gold satin. This one, however, was a deep hunter green, and apparently flannel, much better for winter in Scotland. As Hermione reached upwards to place the book he'd gotten her on an upper shelf above her bed, Harry noticed that it wasn't flowing quite as smoothly down her belly as the old one had. He handed her another book, and let his hand slid down her belly. It wasn't flat anymore. Not bulging, yet, but not flat as it had been.

"So, how did your parents react when you told them?" Harry asked the question that he knew that Hermione had been avoiding since they got on the Express. He'd let her do that. It seemed to need a private discussion.

He barely heard her reply. "Didn't tell them." Hermione looked down, then dropped down to sit on her bed.

Harry sat down beside her. "You didn't tell them? You made this big deal about how it had to be done in person, and that you were going to do it over the Christmas Holidays. And now you tell me that you didn't tell them? Hermione you had over three weeks, twenty-three days. Why didn't you tell them?"

Hermione's eyes met Harry's. She seemed to be almost afraid to talk. Her mouth opened and closed several times without a sound escaping. Finally the words escaped her. "I couldn't tell them. Every time I was going to, I got this irrational fear that they'd kick me out, or take me away from you. I'd be about to say it, and then they'd say something, either about how much they loved me being home, or about how grown up I was, and I couldn't say it or interrupt them.

"I know I wanted to tell them in person, but I couldn't. I practiced what I wanted to say, even saying it to my mirror at home, but nothing seemed to be right. I wanted to, I really wanted to, Harry, but I couldn't look them in the eye and tell them that their little girl was going to have a baby."

Harry had no idea what to say to that, no idea what to do. Hermione looked like she was lost, looking for help that she was sure wasn't coming. She was starting to cry. Harry searched his mind for some response. The thought came to his mind, what would Hermione do? He almost laughed at the sudden ironic thought, lending a smile to his face, as he pulled Hermione close. Hugging wasn't something he was entirely comfortable doing, yet, but it was what Hermione did when he was upset. It was time to return the favor.

He wasn't sure how long he held his crying Hermione in his arms. Eventually, the crying petered out to just sniffles. He reached into his robes, glad that he hadn't changed for bed yet, and pulled out his handkerchief. Hermione blew her nose in it, and then looked up at Harry. He figured that it was his turn to talk, to take charge for the moment.

"Hermione, you're writing to your parents to tell them tonight. We'll put it in the mail tomorrow, and I want to read it first," Harry ordered. He was not going to let her get out of telling her parents. "I don't want you to surprise them at the end of the year by showing up about to give birth or holding our baby."

Hermione nodded, but did not break from the hug. Her head moved to rest on Harry's right shoulder, and Harry's arms found themselves holding her close. He had no idea how long the hug lasted, but when it finally broke, she slid under the covers of her bed.

Harry wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but he pulled the blankets up to Hermione's neck, and gently laid a kiss on her forehead as her eyes closed. With a soft "Nox" he turned off the main light in the wardrobe and stepped out. He laid a finger across his lips as Ron entered, indicating that Hermione was already asleep. Accepting his return nod, Harry gathered his stuff and headed to take his night time shower.

As he turned ou the shower, he continued to think about Hermione. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with her. He chuckled a bit as he realized that his actions tonight were defined in his mind as channeling Hermione. Both of them were a bit of a mess, really. He had how he'd grown up, and she had what the ritual had done to her. As he picked up the soap and began to lather up his wash cloth, he resolved to make sure he knew what Hermione was in for.

Hermione had been there when he broke down. She had not thought him a freak, or unworthy of friendship. Hermione had held him, and given him attention and care that he hadn't realized that he needed until she had. She'd listened to him. She'd held him when the nightmares of Uncle Vernon's treatment of him came, after he'd admitted everything. Hermione was ... Harry wasn't sure what Hermione was to him. He'd never had someone who cared for him before, really.

Harry had missed her over Christmas. Learning about his mother from Snape had been unexpected, and Professor McGonagall had really been there for him when the social worker had talked to him. Nothing was like Hermione though. Since Halloween they'd become really good friends. They did homework together, they ate together, and once, after one of Neville's potions disaster that had left them all covered with gooey sap that had penetrated their uniforms, even washed each other's back.

Ron, Dean, and Seamus had been quite upset about the fact that the new wards had only let him clean up in the shower at the same time as Hermione. Actually he thought that they thought Hermione should wait until they were done first. That sap had been awful. Since then Hermione had taken to doing her bath way before anyone else. Since she needed more rest due to her pregnancy, none of the boys were objecting to that.

Harry picked up his shampoo and began to wash his hair. Back in Surrey, Harry had been a loner, by virtue of his cousin's bullying. That wasn't the case at Hogwarts. Ron had been his first friend, and then Hermione had joined them. Once Hermione had moved into the boys dorm, however, it was as if the flood gates had opened.

He'd discussed football with Dean, and talked to Seamus about rural Ireland, where Harry thought it would be nice to visit someday. Neville turned out to be a font of knowledge on plants, and Harry had discussed Aunt Petunia's garden with him several times. If he should ever have to return to Privet Drive, Harry was sure he could really make that garden prize winning. Aunt Petunia's roses had come close already.

Then there were the girls. They were not what Harry had expected. Lavender turned out, in addition to being a gossip, to have a fascination with sailing vessels. She'd shown him a ship in a bottle model of the Cutty Sark that she'd made. It had surprised not just him, but the other girls too. Pavrati had a bit of a gossip to her, as well, but Harry trusted her. She'd been the one who had helped him alter his clothes so they fit him right. Sally-Ann and her sweet tooth had introduce him to a whole class of homemade in the dorm candies that Harry couldn't get enough of, even if Hermione said wasn't good for him.

After one last rinse, Harry stepped out of the shower and picked up his towel. Ron was already there. They'd got their timing for showers down quite well. Harry wasn't afraid of showing his scars to his roommates anymore. It had come out in the open already. Hermione had been right. It had been awkward when it was brought up, but it was like ripping off a bandage, best it be over quickly.

He put on his new pyjamas, a surprise gift from Professor McGonagall, and reentered the dorm. Dean was already in bed, and it looked like Seamus was just waiting his turn. Neville hadn't come up yet. Harry bet that Neville was still going over Herbology with Lavender. He looked at where Hermione laid asleep in the wardrobe, before sliding under his own covers and letting sleep overtake him.

Hedwig was not your average postal owl, and she was very fortunate to have a companion who believed that in the core of his very being. In those first days between the Diagon Alley and the Hogwarts Express behind what Hedwig called the damned number four, her Harry had talked to her, beginning a bond between them that would not easily be broken.

Hedwig had a lot of time to think, and her Harry gave her a lot to think about. If Hedwig had the power to do so, Vernon Dursley would be dead. Being a post owl, she did not. However, as card carrying member of the Avian Transport Union, she was doing her part to convince the pigeons to target Vernon's prized car, now that her Harry didn't have to clean it.

Since they'd arrived at Hogwarts, Hedwig had spent quite a bit of time in Gryffindor Tower. As a familiar, the owl was allowed to stop by his room any time. It wasn't uncommon for Harry to wake up and match eyes with Hedwig in the morning from her perch at the foot of the bed. Hedwig loved the turned rail there. It was just the right thickness at just the right place, and no were else so she would never have to share it.

She did have to share her Harry. Hedwig didn't really have much complaint about that. Harry didn't use her much for her intended purpose. Since Hermione had moved into the boys dorm, she'd got a lot more use. Hedwig loved long flights, and the one to Crawley, well in the last two months, Hedwig had learnt that route to perfection.

Hedwig took pride in her delivery times. She knew every last trick to speed her journey between Hogwarts and Crawley. She'd once had to swing by Devon, to deliver a letter to the Weasleys, and in the process had discovered that a little swing over the Irish Sea actually sped the journey along. Rolf, the elder of the Parliament of Owls of Hogwarts believed otherwise, but he was an old feather duster, not an active owl in their prime.

It was winter time, so open window to enter the muggle home of her Harry's Hermione was not likely. Fortunately, Hedwig knew the schedule of the Grangers. As she banked past the church's clock tower, she noted the time, twelve minutes until three. If she timed it just right, she should be able to arrive just as Mrs. Granger pulled into the garage.

Hedwig came up on the house, and spotting the red Vauxhall, she lined herself up for the dive. The garage door opened, and Hedwig dropped from the sky. With just centimeters to spare, she pulled up, leveling out just above the top of the car. Carefully she dropped speed, before landing on the handle of the mower that was kept just to the left of where Hermione's mother pulled in.

"Good Afternoon, Hedwig," Mrs. Granger said as she opened the car door. "A letter from Hermione already, I see." Hedwig bobbed her head in acknowledgment.

Hedwig liked Mrs. Granger. She always talked to her. The letter was carefully removed from her leg. An arm was absentmindingly raised for Hedwig to jump on, as they exited the garage for the side door. "I see you're to wait for the return letter?" Hedwig bobbed her head again.

Mrs. Granger headed for the parlor. Hedwig approved of the choice. There was an old ashtray stand there, inherited from Hermione's Great Aunt Alberta, that made a perfect perch, with the hand hold that arced over the ash tray. The painting of a sailing ship above the mantel was also from Great Aunt Alberta. "So Hedwig, I hope the trip wasn't so bad. I hear there is a bit of a storm coming." Hedwig filed this away, as she moved to that perch.

Mrs Granger sat down on her favored rocking chair. Hedwig had once tried perching on the back of that chair. It had made her sick. Mrs. Granger began to read the letter. Hedwig had no idea what was in the letter, but she had a feeling it had to do with something that had happened between her Harry and Hermione.

"I knew there had to be more too it," Mrs. Granger mumbled. "Couldn't bring herself to tell me, I see. Hopes that I won't throw her out for it. Why does she think that? Oh that girl, intelligent, but sometimes, I just don't think she uses her mind."

Hedwig had to laugh, not that any human really knew that her sounds were laughter. Mrs. Granger looked up at the owl, with a smile. Hedwig knew what that meant.

"Come on, Hedwig, I think I need a cup of tea so I can figure out how to tell Monty about this, and write a letter before he gets back," Mrs Granger said. "An you deserve some bacon."

Oh yes, bacon. Hedwig loved her bacon. The letter probably wouldn't take long. If Hedwig was any judge, Mrs. Granger wanted to send out the reply before her husband became aware of the letter. She knew that it was Mrs. Granger who ran the household. Mr. Granger may, as he said, bring home the bacon, but Mrs. Granger gave Hedwig the bacon. Hedwig liked Mrs. Granger.

Hedwig flew to meet her in the kitchen. There would be the scent of hot Earl Grey tea, soon, and Hedwig could plot her course back to Hogwarts. Perhaps running through Wiltshire instead of East of London this time, might make a faster run.

Hermione did not make it to her second class of the day. She had been feeling nauseous since she had woken up. She hadn't been able to keep her breakfast down either. If she was perfectly honest, she hadn't really been feeling well even on the train ride back, but it had gotten progressively worse since she'd arrived back at Hogwarts.

She'd found the start of winter term feast to be unappetising. What little she'd managed to consume hadn't stayed down, and breakfast had been worse. She'd managed to get to Transfiguration, but after fainting and with the dry heaves that had hit her, Professor McGonagall had sent her directly to the Hospital Wing.

As she stepped into the Hospital Wing, she discovered that Susan Bones and Draco Malfoy were already seated on beds. . They seemed to be juggling. That being said, it didn't look like the two balls that were passing between them were actually being thrown. Susan would release one, and it would start to drop, only to suddenly fly to Draco's hand. He'd drop one, and it would fly to Susan's free hand.

Hermione watched as the two started to get a bit more complex. Draco, threw a ball up, in a nice high arc, before grabbing another ball to add to the group. Susan followed suit.

They got up to eight balls weaving between the two, as Draco exclaimed. "This kind of fun!"

Hermione found herself following a yellow ball, unable to pull her attention from them.

"Yes, but how do we stop?" Susan said, adding a ninth ball into the mix. "I mean, we can't drop any of this."

Hermione was beginning to get dizzy, her body swaying. Her nausea was starting to increase again, too. She could feel her hands getting clammy.

"Miss Granger!" Madam Pomfrey suddenly cried out, as Hermione found herself losing her balance.

The next thing Hermione knew, she was on a bed, somehow already in a gown. "You took the potion I gave you every day over break, Miss Granger?"

"Yes ma'am," Hermione said, recalling that she hadn't wanted to risk having her morning sickness expose her pregnancy before she informed her parents. She hoped Hedwig would be back soon.

"Well, I did tell you that you could use all the doses, but you won't be having any more of it any time soon," the nurse said. "You did not follow the guidelines for water intake over your break, it seems. You are quite dehydrated, in addition to your nausea and vomiting, to the point that you are suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum. I shall keep you hear at least a week while we rectify that."

"But what about my classes," Hermione began, before being interrupted.

"Young lady, your health and that of your baby is more important than any class you are taking," Pomfrey lectured. Hermoine sunk down in her bed. "I am sure that your friends, at the very least Mister Potter, will be happy to take notes for you. None of your professors will have anything against you being in my care. They all know better than to argue about that. I will let you do assignments for them while you are under my care ... assuming that you get well enough to do so."

Pomfrey pulled out large pitcher filled with a pink liquid and placed it and a glass on a table next to Hermione's bed. "I expect you to consume all of this within the next two hours. Take it slowly though. If you feel like it's going to start coming up, stop and let me know. It shouldn't, but you let this go way too long."

Hermione picked up the glass, and with a contrite expression took the first slip. It tasted a bit like a lemon, but a little bit salty as well. Madam Pomfrey smiled at her. Hermione took a larger sip. She could drink this stuff, whatever it was. It tasted better than the anti-morning sickness potion.

"Very good, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said. "Mister Potter, you may visit for the next half hour, but I will not write an excuse if you're late to your next class."

Harry stepped around the divider, which Hermione could still see a few balls arcing above. It looked like Harry had really been worried about her. His hair was messier than usual, and his tie appeared to have been crumpled quite a bit, something that she knew he did when he was really worried about something. She'd taken to removing the tie in order to save it sometimes. He had an envelope in his hands, which he'd apparently opened and closed several times. It had the large G at the left of the return address and was in the pink parchment print style that her mother favored.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry said as he approached the bed.

"Madam Pomfrey is working on that," Hermione said, taking a bit too large of a swallow. "This stuff is way too salty for my tastes. Apparently I haven't been drinking enough water."

"That's enough, Mister Malfoy, Miss Bones," Madam Pomfrey's voice echoed over the divider. "No need to get that elaborate while you burn out that curse."

Hermione looked at Harry, putting the glass down for moment.

"Malfoy and Bones apparently got cursed to pass everything to each other," Harry explained. "Professor Flitwick sent them her after their first class today. He thought they were passing notes to each other at first."

"Is that a letter from my mother," Hermione asked, reaching out for the envelope.

"Yes, and I'm to read it to you, with appropriate tone," Harry said. "I hope I get this right...

"Hermione Jean Granger, I would think that you would know better than to think that I would disown you for getting pregnant through no fault of your own. That begin said, I understand why, and I shall be careful in breaking the news to your father. I shall expect regular updates to your progress, from both yourself and Madam Pomfrey.

"Knowing your habits, I suspect that you are quite worried about your condition. I know that you would not believe me if I said that I did not worry as well. I will not disabuse you of that certainty. I will however, make sure that you are adequately supplied with your usual method of allying your worries. Please ask Harry what the maximum his owl can carry, as I shall be sending quite a number of books for you to read about pregnancy.

"As your father is due home in just a few minutes, I shall end this letter here.

"Your mum."

Hermoine found herself in tears, as the tension and worry she'd built since she found out that she was pregnant released just a bit. Through the tears she could see Harry looking at her with concern. She sat up a bit, and opened her arms, hoping he'd respond. Harry took the hint and soon she found herself in an awkwardly positioned hug. He held her until the tears ended and she pulled away.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said, wiping her tears away with a tissue from the supply on the table at her side.

Harry nodded, then awkwardly said, "I should be getting to class, soon. I'll bring your books before dinner."

Hermione nodded her acceptance of the proposal, and watched as Harry disappeared around the divider. "Watch where you're throwing that Malfoy," she heard him say before the doors of the hospital wing opened and closed again.

Hermione hadn't been sure that Harry would hug her. He had though, and it made her feel much better. She liked hugging Harry, and she was sure that Harry was beginning to get used to and like hugging too. He'd been so scared the first time she'd tried to hug him. It had been like he was afraid to be touched. She knew why now. He'd never had good touch, good feelings from his aunt and uncle. Hermione was determined that Harry was not going to go back to those people. She wasn't sure how she could make sure that happened, but she was sure going to try. No one hurt her Harry.

Harry held his finger to his lips as Ron entered the dorm room. Hermione was asleep, and he didn't want to wake her. She was finally back in the wardrobe after almost two weeks ... two weeks in the Hospital Wing recovering. He stood on the threshold of the wardrobe, watching her.

She'd gone up early to shower and change for bed. Harry had been told to make sure that Hermione got plenty of rest for the next few days, so he'd sent her up a hour ahead of normal time. He'd come up a few minutes ago to check on her. He'd found her in bed, apparently having fallen asleep reading. Harry had put the book up, carefully marking her place with one of her bookmarks, and eased her under the covers without waking her.

"Parvati needs some help with her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework," Ron whispered into Harry's left ear. "She wants to know if you'll be back down."

Harry nodded, still looking at his Hermione. Ron turned and left. Harry took a deep breath, and reentered the wardrobe. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Sleep well, Hermione." He stepped back out and closed the doors, so that no one would disturb her.

Harry picked up his Defense Book from where he'd tossed it on his bed and headed back down to the Common Room. The Common Room was bright and there was a mummer of conversation that Harry could hear from the moment he stepped out of the First Year Boys room. As he stepped on to the floor, he could see that his fellow First Years had managed to reclaim the alcove from the Fifth Years who had been using it to work on some sort of joint project.

"Harry, you have no idea how glad I am that you came back down," Parvati said before Harry had even managed to cross the threshold of what they'd come to call the closed alcove that Professor McGonagall had made to provide privacy when they were told of Hermione's condition. "I'm totally confused about the jinx classification schema that Professor Quirrell explained today. What's the difference between a superficial curse and a surficial curse?"

Harry opened his book and turned to page hundred and three, to make sure he was right. "Here it is. A superficial curse causes the appearance of a change. They're most often actually charms. Color changing charms fall in those. A surficial curse actually changes a quality of the surface, which can be either a charm, curse, or a transfiguration, depending on duration and effect. Most often true surficial curses maintain themselves by replication. The pimple curses are the easiest examples to preform of those."

"Thanks Harry," Parvati said. "You explained that much better than Professor Quirrell did."

"It might have been the stuttering," Seamus said. "It's really annoying. Harry, I've checked your translation from Latin of that section you quoted for the charms homework. You were a little off on the tenses, but not noticeably so. Two words should have been plural and weren't."

"Thanks Seamus," Harry said, receiving his parchment back. "Ron, you've been covering for Hermione in Transfiguration theory. Have you figured out why the spell blew Seamus's eyebrows instead of changing his water to rum."

"I'm still going to get you for tricking me into taking up all of Hermione's class research assignments in Transfiguration," Ron said. He'd picked up the task after Harry had told him that Hermione needed a little more help. Harry was sure that Ron had thought that she wanted Flying help. "I'm last in Gryffindor in that class, and pants at research in general."

"Yes Ron," Harry said. "Of course, that might have changed. Professor McGonagall is bringing the new standings soon. Now, what went wrong in theory with Seamus's spell."

"It was surprisingly easy to figure out, actually," Ron said. "Seamus, you added a bit of a f sound to your rum and ran it together with the word before, and that made it infrum, which is an incantation for fire. I can't find a rum Latin spell phraseology, but you can try vino and get wine instead. It works."

"I suppose you tried it?" Sally-Anne asked.

"Just a bit," Ron said. "I know better than to get drunk on it. I heard about how my oldest brother Bill took Percy out for a drink over Christmas. Percy is apparently a talkative drunk. Bill sent me a long list of things I'm supposed to causal mention to Percy in the next few months."

"How are Mr. And Mrs. Percy Weasley?" Lavender asked. "I haven't seen Percy as much since they came back from their honeymoon."

"Penny's having twins," Ron replied. "Fred and George are through the roof. They're hoping that they are both baby boys, and are lobbying to be godfathers. Penny's due in late June."

"Did you hear what Oliver said to Fred and George after the last Quidditch practice?" Seamus asked Ron.

"No, I was busy researching why your mistake occurred," Ron said. "What did he say?"

"He told them that they weren't allowed to approach the chasers, least that they put them on maternity leave." Seamus said, pulling a glass out and filling it with water.

"Trying the charm now?" Ron asked.

"When Professor McGonagall comes," Seamus said. "Hey, Hermione, done with your nap?"

Harry looked to discover that Hermione had apparently woken up while he was gone. She's put her robe over her night gown, but left it open. She'd apparently used her anklets to put on the black bunny slippers. "I set an alarm so I could be back in time for Professor McGonagall to tell us the standings."

"And I shall not keep you away from your sleep, Hermione," McGonagall said. "I'm sorry for the delay. The Headmaster was a little delayed in giving me your potions practical grades."

Harry was glad that the Headmaster had taken over teaching Potions to the first year Gryffindors. After Professor Dumbledore had seen the difference between a Gryffindor/Slytherin Class and both apart, he'd decided to officially take over teaching the Gryffindor First Years Potions. Harry had heard that he'd told Professor Snape that he missed teaching, and given the load that Professor Snape was under, and the need for Miss Granger not to be exposed to certain fumes, he was sure that the Professor wouldn't mind.

Harry wasn't sure about Snape, but he loved having Professor Dumbledore teach potions. It was an entirely different style of teaching. Sitting on the sofas in the Headmasters lab discussing the potions before and after brewing them was a lot different that Snape's lecture and do the potion.

"Hermione, I'm sure that is no surprise to you that you and Harry remain numbers one and two in your class," Professor McGonagall said. "Harry, you've managed to close the gap by two points. Of course I have one big surprise in ranking. As you know, all of you have found much improved potions grades under Professor Dumbledore than you hand under Professor Snape. I should note that the Slytherin grades have also improved due to the increased supervision levels. This has caused you as whole to shift up twenty points on average, once the Board of Governors accepted your petition.

"In one particular case, this has resulted in a massive change in ranking. Coupled with a three point improvement in Charms, and a five point improvement in Transfiguration practical, I'm proud to say that Hogwarts has a new number four in First Year. Congratulation, Mr. Weasley."

Harry looked over at his first friend at Hogwarts. Ron's face was quickly blushing to match his hair. His mouth had dropped open. It was clear that there wasn't going to be a single word out of him for quite sometime. Seamus slapped Ron on the back, and Ron looked up. Harry was sure that smile wasn't going from Ron's face in quite some time.

"Sally-Anne, twenty-third to seventh place. Well done. Parvati, up to eighth. Your sister is in sixth. And Neville Longbottom, despite the mismatched wand, ninth. Lavender, you've made the top ten. Dean, up to twenty-third with a thirty-two point jump, the biggest improvement of all, and Seamus wasn't far behind in twenty-fifth.

"I'm quite pleased with all of your improvements this month. I expect that it will continue. Now, it is very close to lights out, so I expect that you all will be wrapping this up, so you can get a good night's sleep before tomorrow's quiz in Transfiguration." With that, the Professor turned and left, closing the doors behind her.

"Now she tells me," Ron exclaimed. "Like that I'm supposed to get a good night's sleep worrying about a quiz."

"Like you need to worry about it, Mister Number Four," Seamus shot back. "In vino vertus." His water darkened into red wine. "A toast to our new fourth and class, and to six of us being in the top ten already."

Everyone rose a glass to Seamus's, though only Seamus had done the charm. "To Ron and the top ten!"

After taking a sip, Seamus remarked, "that's the good stuff. Thank you Ron."

Harry saw that Hermione was about to make a statement that might start something, so he stood and placed an arm around her, turning her towards the doors. "Come on, Hermione, I'll tuck you in."

He guided Hermione back upstairs, finding the common room to be almost deserted. Harry opened the door for Hermione, and hung up her robe for her in the wardrobe. He lifted the covers, and Hermione slid back under them, into her bed. With the covers now pulled up to her neck, and her eyes closed, Harry bent over and placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead, the first time when she was actually awake.

"Harry?" Hermione queried.

"Yes Hermione."

"Next time, I'd like the kiss a little lower."