[Fic]: Hermione Granger and the Exceptionally Good Birthday, part two of two (11,300 total)
Hermione Granger and the Exceptionally Good Birthday: Hermione's Discovery (Part two of two)
A Harry Potter fanfic
(In which Harry meets Hermione's study group, Hermione learns the truth about House Elves, Ron learns the truth about Lavender, a birthday is celebrated, and a good time is had by all.)
By Andrew yclept Aelfwine
Rating: PG. 11,300 words total. Fourth Year AU Warning. Luna Being Luna Warning. Friendly Millicent Warning. Supportive Ginny Warning. Handy Susan Warning. Fannish Hermione Warning. Yours Truly Warning.
Harry/Hermione, with slight hints of possible future Harry/Hermione/other girls. Ron/Lavender. Dobby/Winky.
***
The characters and situations of the Harry Potter series are copyright J.K. Rowling. They may not be used or reproduced commercially without permission. The use of these characters and situations is not to be construed as challenge to said copyright. They are merely borrowed for this work of non-commercial fanfiction, from which the author derives no financial benefit.
***
Hermione Granger was concerned for her best friend. Harry seemed to be running off on mysterious errands during almost all of the time that he wasn't either in class or doing homework. She supposed she was pleased with the fact that he was actually staying on top of his assignments, but the out of characterness bothered her. She couldn't detect any signs of him being under the influence of mind control potions, and he'd shown himself highly resistant to the Imperius curse, but was it possible that someone was manipulating him into doing... something?
It wasn't that she particularly feared he might have a secret girlfriend in some other House. Hermione knew it would happen someday, but surely Harry would tell her about it. She knew full well she hadn't any chance with him at the present time, of course.
She was only his best friend, and she was told boys their age didn't want to date their friends, and she was all right with that, for now. After all, they were too young to date safely, and she couldn't bear to lose him if they broke up. It was better to stay friends, which offered the hope that someday, once they were properly grown up, they would either both be happy with other people and content to see each other as siblings or, just maybe, they would be able to look about at the world and the people they'd dated in the past, see they were perfect for each other, and sensibly ease themselves into a loving adult relationship. That way they could keep all the wonderful friendship they had and add to it the sort of activities that Hermione had been visualising, with much resultant dampening of knickers, since not long after a scrawny boy dragged his reluctant and complaining best mate into a bathroom to face a troll and save a bossy girl whom he barely knew.
With that in mind, Hermione tried to ignore her concerns and plunged herself into researching the House Elf-Wizard bond. Maybe she could find some way to free the poor innocent Dobbys of the world. Maybe service to the dispossessed and abused would help distract her from wondering what her best friend was up to and why he'd not tell her. After a couple of days of not being distracted, she was sitting one afternoon after classes in the Common Room, trying to read a witch's guide to household management written in Early Modern French, when matters came to a head.
"Come on, Hermione, won't you play a game of chess with me? Harry might have turned into a mad swot, but you understand there's a need for balance in life, don't you? Please?"
"Not right now, Ron. I've work to do. Look, Lavender's just finished her essay. Why don't you ask her for a game?"
"What? She's a girl."
"Ronald Bilius Weasley, in case you've somehow not noticed in the past three years, I sleep in the same dormitory as she does."
"What does that mean?"
"Oh for f... foxtrot's sake, Ronald, I'm a girl as well."
"Oh, right. But you're different, Hermione. You're not a girl type of girl."
Somewhere in the back of her mind Hermione realised that whatever tiny lingering doubts she might have had as to which "best mate" would make a worthy boyfriend were settled for good. But that was for later. As for the present, she counted to ten, slowly. She was not going to conjure herself a rusty soup spoon and use it to gut Ron Weasley, because she imagined Ron lying in the hospital wing having his intestines regrown would make Harry unhappy. And speaking of Harry, it was high time Hermione checked up on him. "Here, I'll ask her for you. Lavender? You play chess, don't you? Have you and Ron ever played each other before?"
Lavender giggled and batted her eyelids. "Oh, I do play a little bit of chess with my daddy and my uncles, once in a while. Would you like to play a game with me, Ron?"
Ron blushed and muttered something.
"He'd love to," Hermione said. "Here, you can have my seat, Lavender. Have fun!" She left the two of them setting up their pieces--"Don't the two little horsies go here and here, Ronnie?"--and headed out of the Common Room. It was time to get some answers from Harry Potter.
She caught him in an empty classroom. He had a good dozen sheets of parchment spread out on a desk, which he gathered up into a stack and turned upside down as soon as she stepped inside and said sweetly "Harry? Might I have a word with you, please?"
"Of course, Hermione. What do you need?"
“I need...” And for a moment she was gripped with the absurd vision of herself pulling him into a kiss, a long, long kiss such as she'd only read about in books or imagined for herself after lights out with her bedcurtains firmly drawn and a silencing charm applied. But that couldn't happen. “...some answers. What are you up to, Harry?”
“Err... nothing. Just a bit of a project, that's all.”
“I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't be so, well, paranoid. It's just that I l... I'm worried for you, Harry. You don't usually hide things from me, and I'm concerned that you might be... well, that somebody might be forcing you to do something.”
“Oh, Hermione.” And before she knew what she was doing, she'd hugged him. “I promise you that it's nothing bad. I... I'm sorry for making you worry. We've been keeping it secret from you because, well, it's... we're planning a birthday party for you.”
She almost lost control in that moment. She didn't know if she wanted to kiss him, to throw him to the floor and ravish him, or to admonish him for wasting so much time on something as unimportant as her own birthday. At last, she said the only thing she could think of. “We, Harry?”
“Yes. Me, your friends from the study group, and... a couple of the House Elves.”
“Harry, that's very nice of you, and I understand that you and Millie and Susan and Ginny and Luna all mean well, but I don't want to celebrate my birthday by participating in slavery. It's bad enough that I can't eat a normal meal here without it being made by the poor Elves, but--” A loud popping sound startled both of them, breaking the flow of Hermione's words. There was now a small bat-eared person standing on the desk, dressed in the most unlikely ensemble Hermione had ever even imagined: a toddler-sized leather motorcyclist's jacket complete with polished steel kidney plate, miniature British Army battledress trousers, bright purple socks, and several knitted hats.
“Miss Herminey is having some very goods intentionses, but she is being very rude to Elveses and even more very rude to the Great Sir Harry Potter who is loving her very much.”
“Dobby, I... it's not your fault that your people have been brainwashed for centuries into thinking they only exist to serve Wizards.”
“Miss Herminey is not understanding at all. Miss Herminey is not being brainwashed into thinking it would be being nice to sometimes be in the Great Sir Harry Potter's bed with her cute girly friends and Miss Herminey and the other girlses wearing no things at all but interestings metal jeweleries and maybe sometimes cats' eareses and-slash-or creatives tyings of ropes, is she? If anything, she is almost being brainwashed into thinking this is not being nice and good and a great deal of fun for all participants, but she is resisting against nasty contentions of certains unpleasants feminists theorists whoeses writings she is encountering at such a young age as to almost be giving her some sort of psychological complexey thing.”
Hermione blushed. “How did you... never mind. Dobby, there's a huge difference between genuine chattel slavery and loving consensual kink with a safety word.”
“And there is also being huges differences between genuine slavery of chattelses and how House Elves is living when being members of good families which is not behaving like nasty bad former Malfoy masters. Miss Herminey is reading many books, but she is not reading the rights ones. If Miss Herminey will be reading Stoddard and Butler perhaps she will be better understanding, as Dobby is thinking theirs is being the best book. Stockhouse Lovegood's Introduction to the History of the Elvish Races is being more detailed, but is also being four timeses as long, and Dobby is thinking Miss Herminey is being better off with the quickest overview right now.” Dobby handed her a slim paperback, barely more than a pamphlet. The title page read: “On the Nature of House Elves and Wizards: an account from both sides. By J.P.P. Stoddard, Wizard, and Augustius F. Butler, House Elf.”
She'd never imagined that House Elves read books, let alone that they might write them. Her emotions were a tangle of confusion, surprise, and delight at having discovered not only a new book but an entire new field of inquiry. Were there other books by House Elves? Could she find them and read them?
She sat down to read. Harry and Dobby began to discuss party preparations, something to do with butterbeer and whether it was better to buy it in bottles or kegs. At first she had to tune out their voices by an effort of will, but after a dozen pages she was genuinely caught up in the story of how the vast majority of the Elvish servant caste had been abandoned by their High Elf masters in the Fifth Century AD when the latter, finding humans distasteful, increasingly powerful, and all too prolific, abandoned the Earth and retreated into the alternate plane called Underhill.
Her first thought was that the Low Elves were better off on their own, until she understood two things. Unlike human magic users and the vanished High Elves, they were unable to extract magical power from the fabric of the universe, and as magical creatures they were unable to reproduce or even to live for very long without that power. They were dependent for their survival on the ambient "digested" magic emanating from their lords and ladies, part of a symbiotic system dating back millions of years. In fact, there was considerable evidence that Elvish society during the Miocene epoch had already settled into the same general structure ascribed to them in all human records, from the earliest known descriptions impressed on clay tablets or brushed on papyrus by temple and palace wizards up to the parchment and vellum manuscripts written by magical clerics and scholars in the era of their final retreat.
The abandoned Low Elves turned to their former masters' enemies for aid, but not even Merlin himself could find any means of restoring the ability to metabolise raw magic which had been bred out of their kind before chimpanzees and hominids fully diverged from each other. With their backs against the wall, the Low Elves developed a method of binding themselves to Wizards and Witches in place of the High Elves, which all but a few found preferable to the painful wasting death that awaited them without such a bond.
The Wizarding families who accepted the Elves' service had established elaborate codes of conduct to make sure that their descendants would never take their House Elves for granted and adopt the casual cruelty that had characterised the High Elves after their fall into decadence, which had begun around the time when humans were first learning to lure game with crude sympathetic magic and make fire by rubbing sticks together. Although a few old houses, such as the primary Black line, had abandoned those traditions, and some newer families, such as the Malfoys, had tricked Elves into their service with no intention of doing right by them, those abusers avoided prosecution only because political infighting had paralysed the Wizengamot for most of the twentieth century. In the vast majority of cases, the Elf-human relationship was affectionate and beneficial to both parties.
Having finished the book, Hermione closed it and looked up. Harry and Dobby had got done with butterbeer and were discussing decorative flowers. Or they might have been trading gardening tricks-Hermione didn't know enough about flowers to say for sure. She cleared her throat. “Um, excuse me. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I didn't ask you first, Dobby. I certainly don't want to see any of the Elves at Hogwarts starve to death, and I'm glad I couldn't actually free them by giving them clothes, since I'm not the Headmaster. Thank you for setting me straight. And Harry? The only present I really want is this: would you please bond Dobby properly to the House of Potter?”
“Of course I will, Hermione. If that's what you'd like, Dobby?”
“Dobby is being thinking of himself as being a Potter Elf ever since the Great Sir Harry Potter is freeing him, and is being very happy to be making this official. And of course Dobby is being forgiving you, Miss Herminey, as you is always only meaning well. And could Dobby be asking a favour? Would Miss Herminey please be considering bonding Dobby's very bestest and dearest friend Winky?”
“I... I'd be honoured to. But wouldn't you rather be, err... part of the same family?”
“As Elves is seeing it, Dobby of Potter and Winky of Granger is beings part of same family in everything but name, and names is coming very soon.”
Hermione was at a loss for words. She wasn't used to the feeling. But, much to her surprise, she found that her body knew exactly what needed to be said, and had a means of saying it that didn't require any words at all. She threw her arms about Harry and hugged him as hard as she could, burying her face in his shoulder. He held her just as tightly. "Thank you, Harry," she murmured when she was able. "Thank you so much."
"It's the least you deserve, Hermione. Thank you. I hope you don't mind having the surprise of tomorrow a bit spoilt."
"Oh, Harry, of course I don't. And I'll try my best to pretend I wasn't expecting a party. I'm sure whatever you and the girls and our Elf friends put together will be wonderful beyond my imaginings, so it won't be hard." She raised her head up from his shoulder so she could look him in the eye, but she wasn't about to let go of him. He didn't seem to want to let go of her, either.
"Oh, Hermione, thank you. I do have to say I was surprised to find out about your study group. They're very nice, and I'm glad I've finally met them properly."
"Even Millicent? I was worried you might not like that I had a Slytherin friend."
"I could never have a problem with somebody who was as good a friend to you as she is. Besides, she's a very likeable person. And the only thing I'd ever really had against her was that headlock she put you in during Lockhart's fiasco. Since you've forgiven her, how could I not?"
"Oh, right, that." Hermione could feel her face heating up. "The thing is... we'd agreed that if we got paired up we'd pretend to fight, so that Ron wouldn't get on my case and Malfoy wouldn't get on hers. We probably should've choreographed it better. I was meant to flip her on her back after the headlock and pin her, but we got stopped before I could get us into a position where I could do it safely. We'd practised the flip, of course, but we'd not done the whole fight scene enough times, and we took far too long. Millie was very disappointed."
"Oh?"
"Yes. She had a bit of a pash for Parkinson, and she was hoping to get some comforting for being brutalised Muggle-style. And then Parkinson was too worried about her Drakey-poo being threatened with the allegedly venomous snake the idiot himself had conjured to even ask if Millie was all right."
"Really?"
"Yes. The only good thing to come out of it all was that particular little ship being sunk. I knew Pugface wasn't good enough for Millie, any more than any of those clods that pass for Slytherin boys are. Well, I suppose Zabini is all right, but he's got a betrothed in France whom he adores to the point he'll not even look at another girl, one of those arranged things that actually worked out, sort of like Neville and Hannah. Millie says he's been trying to transfer to Beauxbatons ever since First Year, but his mother won't let him, because Hogwarts was his father's school."
"Oh. Ron said he thought Zabini was a... that is, that he preferred the company of other blokes."
"Thank you for being so thoughtful of my feelings and sensibilities, Harry, but that sounds a bit too diplomatic for Ron."
Harry blushed charmingly, and it was all Hermione could do not to kiss him on the spot. "I think he actually said 'iron hoof' and 'queer as a quidditch racquet,' to be honest. You know what he's like."
"I might have noticed once or twice... a day." She laughed, and Harry laughed with her. Afterwards, there was a sweet silence as the two best and dearest friends stood together in each others' arms.
Dobby coughed politely. "Please to be excusing Dobby, but it is being nearly time for dinner in the Great Hall, and Master Harry and Mist'ess Herminey is being needing their food. Or would they rather Dobby be bringing them something here?"
"It's up to you, Hermione."
"I suppose we'd better go. I tricked Ron into playing chess with Lavender, and I must confess I'm curious to see what happened."
"Lavender? Chess? Ron?"
"Yes. I got tired of him trying to get me to play with him, so I thought I might as well give somebody who actually wants to spend more time with him an opportunity to get to know him better."
"You... you don't?"
Hermione didn't know which thing she felt more like doing: laughing until her sides ached or kissing Harry until their lips went sore. "No, Harry. I know Ronald Bilius Weasley as well as I need to know him. He's my friend, and I care about him, but my feelings for him are much the same as Ginny's. Well, except for the fact that she's never entirely forgiven him for throwing her teddy in the pond when she was six; after all, he never had the opportunity to do that to me."
"Really?"
"Yes. The twins got Ginny's teddy back for her, and she used accidental magic to turn Ron's snot into a flock of bats that chased him round and round the Burrow for half an hour, but he never really apologised to her."
"So... you're not interested in Ron?"
"No, Harry. People might say we fight like an old married couple, but any couple who treated each other that way would divorce before finishing their first fortnight of married life. Not that you should feel badly for thinking I might be--Mrs. Weasley actually had a talk with me about it, and my Mum did as well."
"Thank you, Hermione."
"For what?"
"For... Oh, for being you."
"Thank you for being you, Harry." They looked each other in the eye for a long moment. And then, very slowly, they moved their faces forward until their lips were meeting, and they kissed.
The contents of the room didn't swirl into the air as if a tiny tornado had been generated around them. They didn't glow brightly enough to make Muggles as far away as Inverness think an atomic bomb had gone off in a not particularly interesting bit of ruins beside an altogether dull loch in a patch of unpeopled Highland territory that was entirely unworthy of their attention. They didn't fall into a coma and find themselves reliving each others' entire lives. But it was a very nice, sweet, perfect first kiss. When they broke it, they looked into each others' eyes for another moment before moving in to kiss again.
Not long after, Dobby coughed. "Please be pardoning Dobby, Master Harry and Mist'ess Herminey. Dobby is being very happy that Master and Mist'ess is getting sense and doing the kissing they has beens wantings to do since they is being ickle Firsties, but it is being not long before dinner is being served and if Mist'ess is wanting to see what has been happenings with Ronald the Wheezy and Lavender the Brown she will be wanting to be in the Great Hall."
"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said. "So, shall we proceed, my lady? That is, if you want to..."
"Be your lady? After a kiss like that? How could I not? There's just one thing. Dobby? Is there anything else Harry must do to bond you to him?"
"No, Mist'ess. Saying is being enough. After all, Dobby is thinking of self as being Master Harry's Elf since Master Harry is tricking bad former master Lucy Bad Faith into freeing Dobby."
Hermione had never imagined it would sound so nice to be called Mistress. Well, at least that it would sound so nice to be called Mistress by a House Elf. She had to confess, at least in the privacy of her own thoughts, that she'd had a passing fantasy or five about playing Pirate Queen and Her Cuddly Captives or Sultana Shares Her Husband's Harem with the girls from her study group. Ginny has a sweet rump and a sweeter personality, Luna is so charming and playful, Susan is delightfully ticklish, and Millie and I did have an awfully good time working out that fight scene, especially the part where I pinned her, and I suppose it was rather funny how many times she wanted to go over that part again. And they all do seem very taken with Harry...
But that line of speculation was neither here nor there right now. Hermione wondered if in Dobby's view of things she and Harry were already married, or at least betrothed. It seems a bit sudden, but, surprisingly, I don't mind in the least. Maybe it's because on some level Harry and I have been dating since First Year? "Thank you, Dobby. Should I go ahead and talk to Winky now, or would I do better to wait until she's not busy?"
"Mist'ess Herminey is being most kindest! Winky is... well, Dobby is thinking it best right now to be bonding, if Mist'ess Herminey would. They wills not be taking long. Will Dobby be collecting Winky for Mist'ess?"
"Please do, Dobby."
Moments later, Dobby was back, with his arm round a small bleary-eyed female elf. She wore a skirt and blouse and a little blue hat, but unlike Dobby's clothes hers were battered and stained as if they'd been used to wipe up thirty years' worth of grime from the kitchen of a greasy spoon whose owners had always preferred bribing the health inspectors to meeting standards.
"Winky? Dobby's explained things to me. I'm sorry I didn't understand what House Elves need to live. Will you bond with me?"
Winky blinked and struggled to focus her eyes. "Missy Herminey is not being playing sadistic gameses? Missy Herminey will not be bonding Winky and then giving Winky clotheses?"
"I would wish for my Elf to be neatly and comfortably dressed in the manner she finds most appropriate and which best reflects on the House of Granger and the honour with which that House regards its Elvish members, and if she needs to buy garments I will pay for them, since she is a member of my family, but I will never throw my Elf out to starve."
"Then Winky is accepting."
"If Mist'ess will be saying she accepts the bond?" Dobby prompted.
"I accept Winky as my Elf." A day prior, Hermione would have said she'd kiss Professor Snape before she owned a House Elf. But now bonding with Winky seemed as natural as kissing Harry. Then again, a day prior Hermione hadn't expected she'd kiss Harry before they left school, if she ever did at all. She felt a rather pleasant little sensation in her magic, something like a kitten rubbing against her foot. Winky might be drawing power from her mistress, but Hermione felt more as if she herself had gained an additional boost of magical energy.
Winky stood up straight, although she kept her hand on Dobby's arm. The redness left her eyes, and she appeared to grow a good four inches and gain nearly a stone in weight. When Dobby popped her into the room Winky had barely come up to his shoulder, but now she was only a finger or two shorter; Hermione realised that her Elf was in much the same proportion to Dobby as she herself was to Harry. Winky's clothes seemed to blur for an instant, and then she was wearing something like a feminine version of Dobby's outfit: an immaculately clean ensemble of brown leather bomber jacket and khaki skirt covered in pockets, with Dobby's stack of knitted hats split between the two Elves. "Winky is thanking you, Mist'ess Herminey, and thanking Master Harry. And Winky is also thanking Dobby, and Winky is thinking to be doing more thanking of Dobby when tonight's works is being dones."
"If Winky is being willing, Dobby is being available." Hermione had never imagined she'd see a House Elf blush.
"Winky is much more than being willing. In fact, if Mist'ess Herminey is not needing Winky for the next hour or two...?"
"Not at all, Winky. Enjoy yourself."
"And I'll be fine, Dobby. Have fun." Harry offered Hermione his arm. "Shall we give our new family members some privacy and make our way to the Great Hall, my lady?"
She took it. "I'd like nothing better."
When they got to the Gryffindor table, Ron and Lavender were sitting next to each other, caught up in an animated discussion and mostly ignoring their plates. "I still can't believe you tricked me like that! 'Little horsies,' for shame!"
"You're only saying that cos I beat you, Ron-Ron."
"You only beat me cos I was going easy on you. You fooled me into thinking you were a beginner, you... you... you chess sharper."
"Well, now you know, and knowing is... at least some of the battle. Would you play me another game tonight?"
"You'd better believe I will, Lav-Lav."
Harry turned to Hermione, raising an eyebrow. "Did you know?"
"That Lavender was that sneaky? I had my suspicions. That she was good enough at chess to wipe the board with Ron? I didn't, but I did think it was sort of odd that in three years and nearly three weeks of her and Parvati playing chess in our dorm almost every night she'd never asked him for a game."
Ginny slipped up beside them and laid a hand on Hermione's arm. "Looks like a match made in heaven. Well played, Hermione."
"Oh? I only wanted Ron to stop bothering me to play with him."
"Well, I think you've got yourself and Harry a respite. And it looks as if you might be using up some of that time together, am I right, O fearless leader of our study group?"
"Well... yes."
Ginny grinned. "Congratulations, you two. It's about time."
"Yes," Luna said. Hermione didn't know how the little Ravenclaw had managed to get so close without her noticing, but Luna did have a talent for sneaking about like a tiny cute blonde ninja. "Congratulations, Hermione and Harry. Isn't it nice of Ron and Lavender to distract everybody so that the two of you can have a pleasant dinner in peace?"
"Err... I suppose you're right, Luna. Oh, and thank you, both of you."
Harry smiled. "Yes. Thank you, Luna and Ginny."
"Thank you, Harry. Our Hermione looks most delightfully happy, and your auras are making some absolutely splendid patterns and colours right now. You've always looked lovely together, but now you look even lovelier."
Hermione looked at Harry. He didn't seem to have any better ideas of what to say than she had, but he looked almost deliriously happy. Then again, she felt almost deliriously happy herself. They sat down at the Gryffindor table, side by side, with Luna and Ginny opposite them. It was a very pleasant meal, one of the best she'd ever had at Hogwarts, although she knew intellectually that it was the company of her best and now boyfriend and two of her closest female friends that made it so.
Then again, it didn't hurt that his new connection with Lavender had somehow improved Ron's table manners. Apparently he actually was capable of chewing and swallowing before speaking. Illustrating chess problems on the table with salt and pepper shakers, bread rolls, and bits of cheese, now, that's a little odd, but if it makes them happy I can accept it. As long as Lavender doesn't try to take the tomato from my salad to use as a rook again...
When the meal was done, Hermione and Harry went walking out in the courtyard with Ginny and Luna. "If you'll come this way," Ginny said, "you might see something interesting."
When they were in the shadows between a pair of torches and safe from prying eyes, Millicent and Susan made their presence known. "Congratulations, Harry and Hermione," Susan said. "Considering you've been dating since First Year, it's about time you actually realised it."
"Yes. Congratulations. And how do you like our early birthday present, Hermione?" It was the first time Hermione had ever heard Millicent giggle outside the confines of their hidden study room in the library or the empty classroom where they'd practised for their Second Year mock duel.
"I feel as if I should make a joke about trying him out before I decide if I'll keep him, but I can't, because I know I will. Thank you so much for a plan that only a Slytherin, a Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw, and a Gryffindor could possibly have put together."
Susan giggled. "Actually, it took two Gryffindors. Just because Harry didn't entirely realise he himself was the present doesn't mean he didn't play a vital role in putting the whole operation into effect."
"I'll gladly hand over my credit to Hermione's and my Elves, whose names I will not say in case it might distract them from their fun."
"Good plan," Hermione said, and embraced him. "I'm tempted to kiss you, if not outright snog you, but I don't know if we're ready for that sort of display in front of our friends just yet. Maybe we should save it for tomorrow?"
"It might be nice if you did," Luna said. "I have it on reliable authority that Professor McGonagall has put at least a couple of Galleons on the two of you being seen kissing in public for the first time on our Hermione's fifteenth birthday."
"What?" Harry said. "Who's giving odds on us?"
"The Weasley twins, of course," Susan said. "The Hufflepuff bookmakers only take bets on winged horse races, foreign elections, and the Quidditch League."
Millicent laughed."And we Slytherins and the Ravenclaws haven't got any bookmakers, cos there's no good reason to trust folk in the houses of the sometimes overly ambitious and the sometimes too quick too show off their own cleverness when there are strictly honest neutrals who'll do a better job of it. In any case, Susan and I went to the Twins, cos we reckoned it made sense to put our money where McGonagall put hers."
"Well, it does seem like the least we can do, doesn't it, Harry?"
"If you don't mind being kissed at your birthday party, then, Hermione?"
"Of course not. After all, there's no reason why we couldn't get in a bit of private practise first. Is there?"
"I don't think so."
"I do wish the four of us could watch," Luna murmured, "but it's not worth risking the invalidation of the bet. I'd like to think we don't count as 'public,' but sometimes it doesn't do to take chances. The Twins gave very attractive odds on tomorrow, and aside from wanting my friends' wagers to succeed I rather like the idea of winning myself enough money to buy that complete set of Stanley Trismegistus novels I've had my eye on."
Millicent sighed. "I reckon you're right, my dear Luna. But... may we hug you, Harry and Hermione? Please?"
Hermione hugged her boyfriend close and whispered in his ear. "Would you mind?"
"Not in the slightest," he whispered back. "Would you?"
"Never." A little louder, she said "Of course you may."
Being caught in a Millicent-Susan-Ginny-Luna embrace was always nice. Being caught in a Millicent-Susan-Ginny-Luna embrace with Harry in her arms was incredible, and Hermione was most definitely looking forward to the next time.
It was already the best birthday of her life, and the day itself hadn't even dawned.
Needless to say, her party was a delight and Hermione had no trouble at all pretending to be surprised by the whole thing. After all, she hadn't had any idea that Dobby and Winky knew how to find her favourite bakery at home in Oxford and order a personalised cake from them, or that the Elves would consult with Parvati, Padma, and the Patil family House Elves in order to make a feast worthy of the best Indian restaurant she and her parents had ever eaten in. Those were complete surprises, as was the special Wizarding edition of Tolkien's Silmarillion that Harry had found for her.
For that matter, she was surprised to discover that she didn't feel even the slightest bit embarrassed when it came time for her and Harry to kiss. It might have helped that Ron didn't make any stupid remarks, being far too distracted with Lavender and her unique solution to the Knight's Tour, but the most important thing was that she was kissing Harry Potter, he was kissing her, and they had three years and almost three weeks' worth of kissing to make up.
In short, life was good for Hermione Granger, and it only got better when, a few years later, she became Hermione Potter.
Here endeþ ðe fic.
A Harry Potter fanfic
(In which Harry meets Hermione's study group, Hermione learns the truth about House Elves, Ron learns the truth about Lavender, a birthday is celebrated, and a good time is had by all.)
By Andrew yclept Aelfwine
Rating: PG. 11,300 words total. Fourth Year AU Warning. Luna Being Luna Warning. Friendly Millicent Warning. Supportive Ginny Warning. Handy Susan Warning. Fannish Hermione Warning. Yours Truly Warning.
Harry/Hermione, with slight hints of possible future Harry/Hermione/other girls. Ron/Lavender. Dobby/Winky.
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The characters and situations of the Harry Potter series are copyright J.K. Rowling. They may not be used or reproduced commercially without permission. The use of these characters and situations is not to be construed as challenge to said copyright. They are merely borrowed for this work of non-commercial fanfiction, from which the author derives no financial benefit.
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Hermione Granger was concerned for her best friend. Harry seemed to be running off on mysterious errands during almost all of the time that he wasn't either in class or doing homework. She supposed she was pleased with the fact that he was actually staying on top of his assignments, but the out of characterness bothered her. She couldn't detect any signs of him being under the influence of mind control potions, and he'd shown himself highly resistant to the Imperius curse, but was it possible that someone was manipulating him into doing... something?
It wasn't that she particularly feared he might have a secret girlfriend in some other House. Hermione knew it would happen someday, but surely Harry would tell her about it. She knew full well she hadn't any chance with him at the present time, of course.
She was only his best friend, and she was told boys their age didn't want to date their friends, and she was all right with that, for now. After all, they were too young to date safely, and she couldn't bear to lose him if they broke up. It was better to stay friends, which offered the hope that someday, once they were properly grown up, they would either both be happy with other people and content to see each other as siblings or, just maybe, they would be able to look about at the world and the people they'd dated in the past, see they were perfect for each other, and sensibly ease themselves into a loving adult relationship. That way they could keep all the wonderful friendship they had and add to it the sort of activities that Hermione had been visualising, with much resultant dampening of knickers, since not long after a scrawny boy dragged his reluctant and complaining best mate into a bathroom to face a troll and save a bossy girl whom he barely knew.
With that in mind, Hermione tried to ignore her concerns and plunged herself into researching the House Elf-Wizard bond. Maybe she could find some way to free the poor innocent Dobbys of the world. Maybe service to the dispossessed and abused would help distract her from wondering what her best friend was up to and why he'd not tell her. After a couple of days of not being distracted, she was sitting one afternoon after classes in the Common Room, trying to read a witch's guide to household management written in Early Modern French, when matters came to a head.
"Come on, Hermione, won't you play a game of chess with me? Harry might have turned into a mad swot, but you understand there's a need for balance in life, don't you? Please?"
"Not right now, Ron. I've work to do. Look, Lavender's just finished her essay. Why don't you ask her for a game?"
"What? She's a girl."
"Ronald Bilius Weasley, in case you've somehow not noticed in the past three years, I sleep in the same dormitory as she does."
"What does that mean?"
"Oh for f... foxtrot's sake, Ronald, I'm a girl as well."
"Oh, right. But you're different, Hermione. You're not a girl type of girl."
Somewhere in the back of her mind Hermione realised that whatever tiny lingering doubts she might have had as to which "best mate" would make a worthy boyfriend were settled for good. But that was for later. As for the present, she counted to ten, slowly. She was not going to conjure herself a rusty soup spoon and use it to gut Ron Weasley, because she imagined Ron lying in the hospital wing having his intestines regrown would make Harry unhappy. And speaking of Harry, it was high time Hermione checked up on him. "Here, I'll ask her for you. Lavender? You play chess, don't you? Have you and Ron ever played each other before?"
Lavender giggled and batted her eyelids. "Oh, I do play a little bit of chess with my daddy and my uncles, once in a while. Would you like to play a game with me, Ron?"
Ron blushed and muttered something.
"He'd love to," Hermione said. "Here, you can have my seat, Lavender. Have fun!" She left the two of them setting up their pieces--"Don't the two little horsies go here and here, Ronnie?"--and headed out of the Common Room. It was time to get some answers from Harry Potter.
She caught him in an empty classroom. He had a good dozen sheets of parchment spread out on a desk, which he gathered up into a stack and turned upside down as soon as she stepped inside and said sweetly "Harry? Might I have a word with you, please?"
"Of course, Hermione. What do you need?"
“I need...” And for a moment she was gripped with the absurd vision of herself pulling him into a kiss, a long, long kiss such as she'd only read about in books or imagined for herself after lights out with her bedcurtains firmly drawn and a silencing charm applied. But that couldn't happen. “...some answers. What are you up to, Harry?”
“Err... nothing. Just a bit of a project, that's all.”
“I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't be so, well, paranoid. It's just that I l... I'm worried for you, Harry. You don't usually hide things from me, and I'm concerned that you might be... well, that somebody might be forcing you to do something.”
“Oh, Hermione.” And before she knew what she was doing, she'd hugged him. “I promise you that it's nothing bad. I... I'm sorry for making you worry. We've been keeping it secret from you because, well, it's... we're planning a birthday party for you.”
She almost lost control in that moment. She didn't know if she wanted to kiss him, to throw him to the floor and ravish him, or to admonish him for wasting so much time on something as unimportant as her own birthday. At last, she said the only thing she could think of. “We, Harry?”
“Yes. Me, your friends from the study group, and... a couple of the House Elves.”
“Harry, that's very nice of you, and I understand that you and Millie and Susan and Ginny and Luna all mean well, but I don't want to celebrate my birthday by participating in slavery. It's bad enough that I can't eat a normal meal here without it being made by the poor Elves, but--” A loud popping sound startled both of them, breaking the flow of Hermione's words. There was now a small bat-eared person standing on the desk, dressed in the most unlikely ensemble Hermione had ever even imagined: a toddler-sized leather motorcyclist's jacket complete with polished steel kidney plate, miniature British Army battledress trousers, bright purple socks, and several knitted hats.
“Miss Herminey is having some very goods intentionses, but she is being very rude to Elveses and even more very rude to the Great Sir Harry Potter who is loving her very much.”
“Dobby, I... it's not your fault that your people have been brainwashed for centuries into thinking they only exist to serve Wizards.”
“Miss Herminey is not understanding at all. Miss Herminey is not being brainwashed into thinking it would be being nice to sometimes be in the Great Sir Harry Potter's bed with her cute girly friends and Miss Herminey and the other girlses wearing no things at all but interestings metal jeweleries and maybe sometimes cats' eareses and-slash-or creatives tyings of ropes, is she? If anything, she is almost being brainwashed into thinking this is not being nice and good and a great deal of fun for all participants, but she is resisting against nasty contentions of certains unpleasants feminists theorists whoeses writings she is encountering at such a young age as to almost be giving her some sort of psychological complexey thing.”
Hermione blushed. “How did you... never mind. Dobby, there's a huge difference between genuine chattel slavery and loving consensual kink with a safety word.”
“And there is also being huges differences between genuine slavery of chattelses and how House Elves is living when being members of good families which is not behaving like nasty bad former Malfoy masters. Miss Herminey is reading many books, but she is not reading the rights ones. If Miss Herminey will be reading Stoddard and Butler perhaps she will be better understanding, as Dobby is thinking theirs is being the best book. Stockhouse Lovegood's Introduction to the History of the Elvish Races is being more detailed, but is also being four timeses as long, and Dobby is thinking Miss Herminey is being better off with the quickest overview right now.” Dobby handed her a slim paperback, barely more than a pamphlet. The title page read: “On the Nature of House Elves and Wizards: an account from both sides. By J.P.P. Stoddard, Wizard, and Augustius F. Butler, House Elf.”
She'd never imagined that House Elves read books, let alone that they might write them. Her emotions were a tangle of confusion, surprise, and delight at having discovered not only a new book but an entire new field of inquiry. Were there other books by House Elves? Could she find them and read them?
She sat down to read. Harry and Dobby began to discuss party preparations, something to do with butterbeer and whether it was better to buy it in bottles or kegs. At first she had to tune out their voices by an effort of will, but after a dozen pages she was genuinely caught up in the story of how the vast majority of the Elvish servant caste had been abandoned by their High Elf masters in the Fifth Century AD when the latter, finding humans distasteful, increasingly powerful, and all too prolific, abandoned the Earth and retreated into the alternate plane called Underhill.
Her first thought was that the Low Elves were better off on their own, until she understood two things. Unlike human magic users and the vanished High Elves, they were unable to extract magical power from the fabric of the universe, and as magical creatures they were unable to reproduce or even to live for very long without that power. They were dependent for their survival on the ambient "digested" magic emanating from their lords and ladies, part of a symbiotic system dating back millions of years. In fact, there was considerable evidence that Elvish society during the Miocene epoch had already settled into the same general structure ascribed to them in all human records, from the earliest known descriptions impressed on clay tablets or brushed on papyrus by temple and palace wizards up to the parchment and vellum manuscripts written by magical clerics and scholars in the era of their final retreat.
The abandoned Low Elves turned to their former masters' enemies for aid, but not even Merlin himself could find any means of restoring the ability to metabolise raw magic which had been bred out of their kind before chimpanzees and hominids fully diverged from each other. With their backs against the wall, the Low Elves developed a method of binding themselves to Wizards and Witches in place of the High Elves, which all but a few found preferable to the painful wasting death that awaited them without such a bond.
The Wizarding families who accepted the Elves' service had established elaborate codes of conduct to make sure that their descendants would never take their House Elves for granted and adopt the casual cruelty that had characterised the High Elves after their fall into decadence, which had begun around the time when humans were first learning to lure game with crude sympathetic magic and make fire by rubbing sticks together. Although a few old houses, such as the primary Black line, had abandoned those traditions, and some newer families, such as the Malfoys, had tricked Elves into their service with no intention of doing right by them, those abusers avoided prosecution only because political infighting had paralysed the Wizengamot for most of the twentieth century. In the vast majority of cases, the Elf-human relationship was affectionate and beneficial to both parties.
Having finished the book, Hermione closed it and looked up. Harry and Dobby had got done with butterbeer and were discussing decorative flowers. Or they might have been trading gardening tricks-Hermione didn't know enough about flowers to say for sure. She cleared her throat. “Um, excuse me. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I didn't ask you first, Dobby. I certainly don't want to see any of the Elves at Hogwarts starve to death, and I'm glad I couldn't actually free them by giving them clothes, since I'm not the Headmaster. Thank you for setting me straight. And Harry? The only present I really want is this: would you please bond Dobby properly to the House of Potter?”
“Of course I will, Hermione. If that's what you'd like, Dobby?”
“Dobby is being thinking of himself as being a Potter Elf ever since the Great Sir Harry Potter is freeing him, and is being very happy to be making this official. And of course Dobby is being forgiving you, Miss Herminey, as you is always only meaning well. And could Dobby be asking a favour? Would Miss Herminey please be considering bonding Dobby's very bestest and dearest friend Winky?”
“I... I'd be honoured to. But wouldn't you rather be, err... part of the same family?”
“As Elves is seeing it, Dobby of Potter and Winky of Granger is beings part of same family in everything but name, and names is coming very soon.”
Hermione was at a loss for words. She wasn't used to the feeling. But, much to her surprise, she found that her body knew exactly what needed to be said, and had a means of saying it that didn't require any words at all. She threw her arms about Harry and hugged him as hard as she could, burying her face in his shoulder. He held her just as tightly. "Thank you, Harry," she murmured when she was able. "Thank you so much."
"It's the least you deserve, Hermione. Thank you. I hope you don't mind having the surprise of tomorrow a bit spoilt."
"Oh, Harry, of course I don't. And I'll try my best to pretend I wasn't expecting a party. I'm sure whatever you and the girls and our Elf friends put together will be wonderful beyond my imaginings, so it won't be hard." She raised her head up from his shoulder so she could look him in the eye, but she wasn't about to let go of him. He didn't seem to want to let go of her, either.
"Oh, Hermione, thank you. I do have to say I was surprised to find out about your study group. They're very nice, and I'm glad I've finally met them properly."
"Even Millicent? I was worried you might not like that I had a Slytherin friend."
"I could never have a problem with somebody who was as good a friend to you as she is. Besides, she's a very likeable person. And the only thing I'd ever really had against her was that headlock she put you in during Lockhart's fiasco. Since you've forgiven her, how could I not?"
"Oh, right, that." Hermione could feel her face heating up. "The thing is... we'd agreed that if we got paired up we'd pretend to fight, so that Ron wouldn't get on my case and Malfoy wouldn't get on hers. We probably should've choreographed it better. I was meant to flip her on her back after the headlock and pin her, but we got stopped before I could get us into a position where I could do it safely. We'd practised the flip, of course, but we'd not done the whole fight scene enough times, and we took far too long. Millie was very disappointed."
"Oh?"
"Yes. She had a bit of a pash for Parkinson, and she was hoping to get some comforting for being brutalised Muggle-style. And then Parkinson was too worried about her Drakey-poo being threatened with the allegedly venomous snake the idiot himself had conjured to even ask if Millie was all right."
"Really?"
"Yes. The only good thing to come out of it all was that particular little ship being sunk. I knew Pugface wasn't good enough for Millie, any more than any of those clods that pass for Slytherin boys are. Well, I suppose Zabini is all right, but he's got a betrothed in France whom he adores to the point he'll not even look at another girl, one of those arranged things that actually worked out, sort of like Neville and Hannah. Millie says he's been trying to transfer to Beauxbatons ever since First Year, but his mother won't let him, because Hogwarts was his father's school."
"Oh. Ron said he thought Zabini was a... that is, that he preferred the company of other blokes."
"Thank you for being so thoughtful of my feelings and sensibilities, Harry, but that sounds a bit too diplomatic for Ron."
Harry blushed charmingly, and it was all Hermione could do not to kiss him on the spot. "I think he actually said 'iron hoof' and 'queer as a quidditch racquet,' to be honest. You know what he's like."
"I might have noticed once or twice... a day." She laughed, and Harry laughed with her. Afterwards, there was a sweet silence as the two best and dearest friends stood together in each others' arms.
Dobby coughed politely. "Please to be excusing Dobby, but it is being nearly time for dinner in the Great Hall, and Master Harry and Mist'ess Herminey is being needing their food. Or would they rather Dobby be bringing them something here?"
"It's up to you, Hermione."
"I suppose we'd better go. I tricked Ron into playing chess with Lavender, and I must confess I'm curious to see what happened."
"Lavender? Chess? Ron?"
"Yes. I got tired of him trying to get me to play with him, so I thought I might as well give somebody who actually wants to spend more time with him an opportunity to get to know him better."
"You... you don't?"
Hermione didn't know which thing she felt more like doing: laughing until her sides ached or kissing Harry until their lips went sore. "No, Harry. I know Ronald Bilius Weasley as well as I need to know him. He's my friend, and I care about him, but my feelings for him are much the same as Ginny's. Well, except for the fact that she's never entirely forgiven him for throwing her teddy in the pond when she was six; after all, he never had the opportunity to do that to me."
"Really?"
"Yes. The twins got Ginny's teddy back for her, and she used accidental magic to turn Ron's snot into a flock of bats that chased him round and round the Burrow for half an hour, but he never really apologised to her."
"So... you're not interested in Ron?"
"No, Harry. People might say we fight like an old married couple, but any couple who treated each other that way would divorce before finishing their first fortnight of married life. Not that you should feel badly for thinking I might be--Mrs. Weasley actually had a talk with me about it, and my Mum did as well."
"Thank you, Hermione."
"For what?"
"For... Oh, for being you."
"Thank you for being you, Harry." They looked each other in the eye for a long moment. And then, very slowly, they moved their faces forward until their lips were meeting, and they kissed.
The contents of the room didn't swirl into the air as if a tiny tornado had been generated around them. They didn't glow brightly enough to make Muggles as far away as Inverness think an atomic bomb had gone off in a not particularly interesting bit of ruins beside an altogether dull loch in a patch of unpeopled Highland territory that was entirely unworthy of their attention. They didn't fall into a coma and find themselves reliving each others' entire lives. But it was a very nice, sweet, perfect first kiss. When they broke it, they looked into each others' eyes for another moment before moving in to kiss again.
Not long after, Dobby coughed. "Please be pardoning Dobby, Master Harry and Mist'ess Herminey. Dobby is being very happy that Master and Mist'ess is getting sense and doing the kissing they has beens wantings to do since they is being ickle Firsties, but it is being not long before dinner is being served and if Mist'ess is wanting to see what has been happenings with Ronald the Wheezy and Lavender the Brown she will be wanting to be in the Great Hall."
"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said. "So, shall we proceed, my lady? That is, if you want to..."
"Be your lady? After a kiss like that? How could I not? There's just one thing. Dobby? Is there anything else Harry must do to bond you to him?"
"No, Mist'ess. Saying is being enough. After all, Dobby is thinking of self as being Master Harry's Elf since Master Harry is tricking bad former master Lucy Bad Faith into freeing Dobby."
Hermione had never imagined it would sound so nice to be called Mistress. Well, at least that it would sound so nice to be called Mistress by a House Elf. She had to confess, at least in the privacy of her own thoughts, that she'd had a passing fantasy or five about playing Pirate Queen and Her Cuddly Captives or Sultana Shares Her Husband's Harem with the girls from her study group. Ginny has a sweet rump and a sweeter personality, Luna is so charming and playful, Susan is delightfully ticklish, and Millie and I did have an awfully good time working out that fight scene, especially the part where I pinned her, and I suppose it was rather funny how many times she wanted to go over that part again. And they all do seem very taken with Harry...
But that line of speculation was neither here nor there right now. Hermione wondered if in Dobby's view of things she and Harry were already married, or at least betrothed. It seems a bit sudden, but, surprisingly, I don't mind in the least. Maybe it's because on some level Harry and I have been dating since First Year? "Thank you, Dobby. Should I go ahead and talk to Winky now, or would I do better to wait until she's not busy?"
"Mist'ess Herminey is being most kindest! Winky is... well, Dobby is thinking it best right now to be bonding, if Mist'ess Herminey would. They wills not be taking long. Will Dobby be collecting Winky for Mist'ess?"
"Please do, Dobby."
Moments later, Dobby was back, with his arm round a small bleary-eyed female elf. She wore a skirt and blouse and a little blue hat, but unlike Dobby's clothes hers were battered and stained as if they'd been used to wipe up thirty years' worth of grime from the kitchen of a greasy spoon whose owners had always preferred bribing the health inspectors to meeting standards.
"Winky? Dobby's explained things to me. I'm sorry I didn't understand what House Elves need to live. Will you bond with me?"
Winky blinked and struggled to focus her eyes. "Missy Herminey is not being playing sadistic gameses? Missy Herminey will not be bonding Winky and then giving Winky clotheses?"
"I would wish for my Elf to be neatly and comfortably dressed in the manner she finds most appropriate and which best reflects on the House of Granger and the honour with which that House regards its Elvish members, and if she needs to buy garments I will pay for them, since she is a member of my family, but I will never throw my Elf out to starve."
"Then Winky is accepting."
"If Mist'ess will be saying she accepts the bond?" Dobby prompted.
"I accept Winky as my Elf." A day prior, Hermione would have said she'd kiss Professor Snape before she owned a House Elf. But now bonding with Winky seemed as natural as kissing Harry. Then again, a day prior Hermione hadn't expected she'd kiss Harry before they left school, if she ever did at all. She felt a rather pleasant little sensation in her magic, something like a kitten rubbing against her foot. Winky might be drawing power from her mistress, but Hermione felt more as if she herself had gained an additional boost of magical energy.
Winky stood up straight, although she kept her hand on Dobby's arm. The redness left her eyes, and she appeared to grow a good four inches and gain nearly a stone in weight. When Dobby popped her into the room Winky had barely come up to his shoulder, but now she was only a finger or two shorter; Hermione realised that her Elf was in much the same proportion to Dobby as she herself was to Harry. Winky's clothes seemed to blur for an instant, and then she was wearing something like a feminine version of Dobby's outfit: an immaculately clean ensemble of brown leather bomber jacket and khaki skirt covered in pockets, with Dobby's stack of knitted hats split between the two Elves. "Winky is thanking you, Mist'ess Herminey, and thanking Master Harry. And Winky is also thanking Dobby, and Winky is thinking to be doing more thanking of Dobby when tonight's works is being dones."
"If Winky is being willing, Dobby is being available." Hermione had never imagined she'd see a House Elf blush.
"Winky is much more than being willing. In fact, if Mist'ess Herminey is not needing Winky for the next hour or two...?"
"Not at all, Winky. Enjoy yourself."
"And I'll be fine, Dobby. Have fun." Harry offered Hermione his arm. "Shall we give our new family members some privacy and make our way to the Great Hall, my lady?"
She took it. "I'd like nothing better."
When they got to the Gryffindor table, Ron and Lavender were sitting next to each other, caught up in an animated discussion and mostly ignoring their plates. "I still can't believe you tricked me like that! 'Little horsies,' for shame!"
"You're only saying that cos I beat you, Ron-Ron."
"You only beat me cos I was going easy on you. You fooled me into thinking you were a beginner, you... you... you chess sharper."
"Well, now you know, and knowing is... at least some of the battle. Would you play me another game tonight?"
"You'd better believe I will, Lav-Lav."
Harry turned to Hermione, raising an eyebrow. "Did you know?"
"That Lavender was that sneaky? I had my suspicions. That she was good enough at chess to wipe the board with Ron? I didn't, but I did think it was sort of odd that in three years and nearly three weeks of her and Parvati playing chess in our dorm almost every night she'd never asked him for a game."
Ginny slipped up beside them and laid a hand on Hermione's arm. "Looks like a match made in heaven. Well played, Hermione."
"Oh? I only wanted Ron to stop bothering me to play with him."
"Well, I think you've got yourself and Harry a respite. And it looks as if you might be using up some of that time together, am I right, O fearless leader of our study group?"
"Well... yes."
Ginny grinned. "Congratulations, you two. It's about time."
"Yes," Luna said. Hermione didn't know how the little Ravenclaw had managed to get so close without her noticing, but Luna did have a talent for sneaking about like a tiny cute blonde ninja. "Congratulations, Hermione and Harry. Isn't it nice of Ron and Lavender to distract everybody so that the two of you can have a pleasant dinner in peace?"
"Err... I suppose you're right, Luna. Oh, and thank you, both of you."
Harry smiled. "Yes. Thank you, Luna and Ginny."
"Thank you, Harry. Our Hermione looks most delightfully happy, and your auras are making some absolutely splendid patterns and colours right now. You've always looked lovely together, but now you look even lovelier."
Hermione looked at Harry. He didn't seem to have any better ideas of what to say than she had, but he looked almost deliriously happy. Then again, she felt almost deliriously happy herself. They sat down at the Gryffindor table, side by side, with Luna and Ginny opposite them. It was a very pleasant meal, one of the best she'd ever had at Hogwarts, although she knew intellectually that it was the company of her best and now boyfriend and two of her closest female friends that made it so.
Then again, it didn't hurt that his new connection with Lavender had somehow improved Ron's table manners. Apparently he actually was capable of chewing and swallowing before speaking. Illustrating chess problems on the table with salt and pepper shakers, bread rolls, and bits of cheese, now, that's a little odd, but if it makes them happy I can accept it. As long as Lavender doesn't try to take the tomato from my salad to use as a rook again...
When the meal was done, Hermione and Harry went walking out in the courtyard with Ginny and Luna. "If you'll come this way," Ginny said, "you might see something interesting."
When they were in the shadows between a pair of torches and safe from prying eyes, Millicent and Susan made their presence known. "Congratulations, Harry and Hermione," Susan said. "Considering you've been dating since First Year, it's about time you actually realised it."
"Yes. Congratulations. And how do you like our early birthday present, Hermione?" It was the first time Hermione had ever heard Millicent giggle outside the confines of their hidden study room in the library or the empty classroom where they'd practised for their Second Year mock duel.
"I feel as if I should make a joke about trying him out before I decide if I'll keep him, but I can't, because I know I will. Thank you so much for a plan that only a Slytherin, a Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw, and a Gryffindor could possibly have put together."
Susan giggled. "Actually, it took two Gryffindors. Just because Harry didn't entirely realise he himself was the present doesn't mean he didn't play a vital role in putting the whole operation into effect."
"I'll gladly hand over my credit to Hermione's and my Elves, whose names I will not say in case it might distract them from their fun."
"Good plan," Hermione said, and embraced him. "I'm tempted to kiss you, if not outright snog you, but I don't know if we're ready for that sort of display in front of our friends just yet. Maybe we should save it for tomorrow?"
"It might be nice if you did," Luna said. "I have it on reliable authority that Professor McGonagall has put at least a couple of Galleons on the two of you being seen kissing in public for the first time on our Hermione's fifteenth birthday."
"What?" Harry said. "Who's giving odds on us?"
"The Weasley twins, of course," Susan said. "The Hufflepuff bookmakers only take bets on winged horse races, foreign elections, and the Quidditch League."
Millicent laughed."And we Slytherins and the Ravenclaws haven't got any bookmakers, cos there's no good reason to trust folk in the houses of the sometimes overly ambitious and the sometimes too quick too show off their own cleverness when there are strictly honest neutrals who'll do a better job of it. In any case, Susan and I went to the Twins, cos we reckoned it made sense to put our money where McGonagall put hers."
"Well, it does seem like the least we can do, doesn't it, Harry?"
"If you don't mind being kissed at your birthday party, then, Hermione?"
"Of course not. After all, there's no reason why we couldn't get in a bit of private practise first. Is there?"
"I don't think so."
"I do wish the four of us could watch," Luna murmured, "but it's not worth risking the invalidation of the bet. I'd like to think we don't count as 'public,' but sometimes it doesn't do to take chances. The Twins gave very attractive odds on tomorrow, and aside from wanting my friends' wagers to succeed I rather like the idea of winning myself enough money to buy that complete set of Stanley Trismegistus novels I've had my eye on."
Millicent sighed. "I reckon you're right, my dear Luna. But... may we hug you, Harry and Hermione? Please?"
Hermione hugged her boyfriend close and whispered in his ear. "Would you mind?"
"Not in the slightest," he whispered back. "Would you?"
"Never." A little louder, she said "Of course you may."
Being caught in a Millicent-Susan-Ginny-Luna embrace was always nice. Being caught in a Millicent-Susan-Ginny-Luna embrace with Harry in her arms was incredible, and Hermione was most definitely looking forward to the next time.
It was already the best birthday of her life, and the day itself hadn't even dawned.
Needless to say, her party was a delight and Hermione had no trouble at all pretending to be surprised by the whole thing. After all, she hadn't had any idea that Dobby and Winky knew how to find her favourite bakery at home in Oxford and order a personalised cake from them, or that the Elves would consult with Parvati, Padma, and the Patil family House Elves in order to make a feast worthy of the best Indian restaurant she and her parents had ever eaten in. Those were complete surprises, as was the special Wizarding edition of Tolkien's Silmarillion that Harry had found for her.
For that matter, she was surprised to discover that she didn't feel even the slightest bit embarrassed when it came time for her and Harry to kiss. It might have helped that Ron didn't make any stupid remarks, being far too distracted with Lavender and her unique solution to the Knight's Tour, but the most important thing was that she was kissing Harry Potter, he was kissing her, and they had three years and almost three weeks' worth of kissing to make up.
In short, life was good for Hermione Granger, and it only got better when, a few years later, she became Hermione Potter.
Here endeþ ðe fic.