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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, ideas, and situations created by JR Rowling and owned by her and her publishers. I own the original elements & characters. No money is being made by me, and no trademark or copyright infringement is intended.


Chapter III


"I suppose I should get dressed," Hermione said shyly.

"If you'll be more comfortable," Harry said. "I hope you don't mind my saying, I think you look adorable like you are."

"You have grown up," Hermione said.

"Thank you, I think," Harry said.

"Still, either you're overdressed, or I'm underdressed . . . eep!"

Harry had stood up, toed off his trainers and proceeded to strip off his shirt and trousers, leaving him in a plain undervest, boxers, and socks. Then he took off his glasses, and Hermione realized he didn't need them. "You've changed physically," she said, surprised. She had been too tired the night before to notice, and too engrossed in Harry's story that morning.

"A little," Harry admitted. "I brewed a potion from the future which made my eyes normal, plus another set of potions which triggered some of the growth I would have had if I hadn't been left short of food for ten years and then again over the past three summers, combined with some powerful nutritional potions. I've put on a stone of muscle and grown three inches since Sunday night, when I first took them. I should grow another three inches, to about five foot nine or ten, and put on another two stone of muscle by the end of the week."

Hermione's eye flicked over Harry. Except for still being just a bit too thin and his knobby knees, he looked . . . sexy. "I like it," she admitted.

"I'm glad."

"Harry . . . were we dating when I was killed in that other life?"

"We were each other's first actual lovers," Harry said. "That doesn't mean we have to be in this new life."

"There wasn't anyone else?"

"You dated Ron, but never got past medium petting according to you, heavy petting and handjobs according to Ron. You certainly never did any of the Bonding rituals with him, and you wanted to put any of that off between us until the war was over, when we could get married. I later married and Bonded with a girl named Luna Lovegood," Harry explained. "I didn't know her until the next ride to Hogwart, and she's a year behind us. If we don't date, I'll probably make an effort to get to know her."

"She's very smart, very cute, but also. . . ."

"Odd?"

"Very odd, from what little I know of her," Hermione agreed.

"You check out younger girls?" Harry teased.

Hermione looked at Harry. "You didn't know. . . ."

"That you and Ginny became 'touching friends' as you called it in that tent at the Quidditch World Cup and have been since? Yes, I did. You also carried on a short but torrid affair with Padma Patil in our Seventh year. Ron was being particularly prat-like, and she was tutoring you because we were spending so much time looking for Horcruxes. She was killed just before Ron was."

Hermione's flush was no longer just from shy embarrassment. She had apparently come to trust Harry as she had always hoped to trust a lover. She looked up through her lashes. Harry smiled and nodded as he recognized the body language from the alternate time line. Hermione dropped her hands passively on her lap, leaned back against the armrest of the love seat, and closed her eyes. She was giving Harry permission to do whatever he wanted, and would say nothing unless he did something she didn't like.

Harry reached up and unbuttoned the bottom of the five closed buttons on Hermione's pale green thin cotton pajama top and worked his way up. He had only seen three pairs of breasts in his previous life. Ginny's small A-cups had not been terribly responsive, their large pink nipples barely changing as they had been kissed and petted. Luna's breasts had been just slightly rounder than Ginny's, but while her actual breasts had been no more responsive than Ginny's, her small, translucent nipples were ultra-sensitive. She had often orgasmed while Harry had been suckling on her, and she had had even small orgasms while breast feeding, until their daughter had started teething.

Hermione was currently a large B, pushing towards a C-cup. By the time of her death in June, 1998, she had become a border-line D. Her nipples were only slightly larger than Luna's, but were more a reddish brown. They weren't as sensitive as Luna's, but they were still sensitive, and the skin of the actual breasts were much more responsive than either Luna's or Ginny's.

Having bared Hermione's lovely breasts, Harry decided that the best word for them were perky -- round but firm. Another term would be perfect, except that he knew he would love them ever more as they grew.

Hermione bit her lower lip, not knowing how sexy that made her look, as she heard Harry pull off his t-shirt. She let him pull her gently away from the arm rest, so that he could slip her top all the way off. Considering the hiss of excitement Harry had made when her breasts were first bared. she was content to let Harry take charge.

The first touch on Hermione's bare skin was on her shoulder, as Harry pulled her into a deep lingering French kiss, Hermione's first, as her kisses with Viktor had been chaste, and her few sessions so far with Ginny had been more mutual masturbation than anything else.

Hermione never knew where the next two and a half hours went. She did know that they had soon moved to the bed, as Harry had easily carried her. Her breath, already slightly rapid and shallow, had increased as Harry had slipped off his boxers and then her pajama bottoms. She was really not ready to lose her virginity, but at that moment, she would have willingly agreed to anything Harry had asked of her.

Harry had asked nothing. They had gone back to deep kissing and roving hands. Then, Harry's lips went roaming. Hermione climaxed from Harry's mouth on her breasts and his hands between her legs. Then she came twice more, as Harry's agile tongue followed his fingers.

It was only as Hermione calmed down in Harry's arms that she came to her senses and realized several things. The most prosaic was how much time had passed. The second was how comfortable she was, basking naked in her sexual afterglow in Harry's arms.

The final thing was the large, hot, hard rod which lay from below her dripping labia to past her naval. She had read all her parents hidden sex manuals; she had watched the sex tapes her father kept stashed under the tellie console in the master bedroom. She knew that Harry's had a porno-worthy sized cock, and she knew what she was supposed to do with it, from the videos, the books, and from observations at Hogwarts.

Hermione thought of all the implications that there would be if she followed through, for in the magical world there were far more of them than in the Muggle. For the first time in her life, she not only knew what she was expected to do in such a situation, but she was more than eager to comply. She was glad she'd fixed her front teeth, or else she might never have been able to fit Harry inside her mouth. As it was, she knew that Ginny could never have easily performed this act on Harry -- her tiny mouth was too small for Harry's size.

She leaned close.

"Are you certain?" Harry asked.

"I am, if you are, my lord," Hermione answered formally. "I am free to Bond with whom I will. I love you, and would have you be part of me."

"I love you, and I will always love you," Harry answered. "I would have you Bond with me, and become part of you."

Hermione grasped Harry's base with both hands and went to work with fingers and lips, and within a minute was rewarded with a warm fountain that Hermione decided was her favorite flavor.



As Hermione and Harry cuddled together, Hermione asked, "Did I love your taste, your cock, so much last time?"

"Actually, yes," Harry said. "You and I did just about everything a man and a woman can do without serious extra equipment. We just avoided doing this very much to avoid all the complications."

"And did any one ever join us? Ginny? Ron? Padma? . . . Luna?"

"Padma and Luna both joined us in some three-way snogging and petting, and once a four-way snogfest," Harry admitted. "Just realize, my heart now belongs to you, my lovely Hermione."

Hermione looked somewhat pleased, but then a thought struck her. "You never had a nickname for me, did you?"

"Like what?" Harry teased. "Hermie? Herms? Mione? Ni?"

"Ni?"

Harry shrugged. "I tended to call you 'sweetheart', and sometime 'sweetie' in private." Harry blushed as thought occurred to him.

"What?"

"My cousin's friends called him 'Big-D'. After you met them, sometimes you just called me, well. . . ."

"'Big'?"

"Exactly."

"Harry, you're longer than my forearm and as thick as my wrist. What else could I call you?"

"Your arms aren't all that long, and your wrist is rather dainty," Harry teased.

"I'm sure I'm fairly average, which you are not," Hermione teased back. She suddenly looked both doubtful and longing, "Harry. . . ."

"My heart belongs to you," Harry repeated. "If you'd like, I'll give you a promise ring."

"Maybe you should wait until my birthday," Hermione suggested as she snuggled closer.

"If you have it before we go back to Hogwarts, you're under my magical protection."

"Just how powerful are you?" Hermione asked.

"Well, there are no exact measurements, but probably until last Friday morning, there were at least fifteen people in the world at least a major step over all other witches and wizards, and maybe others that I didn't know about," Harry said seriously. "Of the fifteen, three were in China, one in the Gobi Desert and two in Tibetan monasteries, all well-hidden from the Communist authorities. Four were in greater India -- one in Nepal, one in Kashmere, and two in India itself, all leading communities hidden away from the Muggle population. One was the oldest living magical person alive, at 198."

Hermione nodded.

"There was one in Japan, who is the head of the magical Shinto community, and the magical advisor to the emperor. There was one in central Africa, who rules the only magical kingdom, the one in the middle of the Sahara."

"The one where they kill anyone not given prior permission to enter their territory, right?"

"Correct. One is the head of what we would call Magical Law Enforcement of the United Hispanic Magical Ministry of the Americas. The other three were in North America, working with the communities of Old Believers there."

Hermione again nodded, knowing that the largest community of magical users were tucked away in the various mountains of North America, including many who were the direct magical descendants of the druids. "That's only twelve," was all she said.

"Plus Voldemort, Dumbledore, and myself -- something of a statistical anomaly, having three of the acknowledged fifteen most powerful magic users in little old magically under-populated Britain," Harry agreed. "What do most of those fifteen have in common?"

"Except for you, Voldemort, the ruler in Africa, and the chief auror in South America, they're either working behind the scenes or working with small communities," Hermione said. "Even the Emir in the Sahara might be considered part of that company."

"Exactly," Harry said. "Most of the people at this level of power either become behind-the-scenes leaders, leaders of religious communities . . . or Dark Lords or puppets of Dark Lords."

Hermione blinked. Then she protested, "You could NEVER turn Dark!"

"Thank you," Harry said. "No, I don't think I could really go Dark, but I could be pretty gray at times."

"Maybe." Hermione looked Harry in the eye. "What exactly happened last Friday?"

"Wait a minute," Harry said. "First, thanks for thinking I won't turn Dark. Look at it from Dumbledore's perspective, though. Why, if I'm the only person who can defeat Voldemort, have I been kept in an abusive home and undertrained?"

"He wouldn't want you to fail," Hermione said thoughtfully. She thought about everything she knew, and plugged this new tidbit of information into the formula. Her eyebrows shot up. "You think he wanted you to take Voldemort out, and die in the battle? And if not from Voldemort's people after you took out Voldemort, then by 'friendly-fire'?"

"I think so," Harry said. "And I think he became more and more doubtful about the whole thing over the next two years, but he died before he could really give me any real help. We won, but at too high a price, and through sheer dumb luck, coupled with my power and your brains."

"Speaking of your power. . . ." Hermione coaxed.

Harry sighed. "As I told you already, I was able to send my memories and most of my magical core back. I was near the top of the pile last time. I think I'm about half again as powerful as I was when I left, and have all my control."

"So, you're really future-Harry in present Harry's-modified body?" Hermione asked. "Not a combination?" That hadn't been totally clear.

"No," Harry said. "Originally, if I had made it back to my original goal, two weeks before the end of the Triwizard, I would have been mostly present-Harry with extra power and future- Harry's memories. Landing in the middle of the trial meant we had to let future-Harry have more control of things than he wanted. He really wanted current-Harry to have the control. At a guess, my personality is maybe fifty-fifty, or maybe leaning towards the younger Harry."

"So, I'm not dating a guy almost a year younger than me, but one, say, three to five years older?" Hermione teased.

"That's one way of looking at it."

"Harry."

"H'mmm?"

"Would you be offended if a drifted off for a short nap?"

"Not at all. Would you like a small dose of the enhancement and nutrition potions tonight? It will get you into immediate shape, because I'm going to be starting some serious physical training and you're welcome to join me."

Hermione yawned and asked, "Side effects?"

"Over-doses can be nasty, but I'm not coming close to that, and you certainly wouldn't with just one dose. It can only be taken in one series. Once you go without taking it for much more than a full day, it can have very nasty side effects, possibly fatal, if you start again."

"Sounds like a good deal. I wonder why more magical people don't take it?" she pondered sleepily.

"It tastes worse than polyjuice, your muscles and bones ache for at least two hours when you wake up the next morning, you lose the muscle tone quickly if you don't work out, and most magical people are too lazy to work at their conditioning. All auror candidates take it when they start physical training."

"Then I'll take it." With that, Hermione again cuddled closer and fell asleep in Harry's arms.



"Thank you for coming," Dumbledore said to the small group in his office.

"May I know why we aren't meeting at Sirius'?" Tonks asked.

"It was merely more convenient," Dumbledore said off-handedly, thus confirming the suspicion in several minds that Sirius at least, and perhaps Remus, were less than pleased with Dumbledore and were not yet upset at Harry's display of power and independence at the trial -- especially not the independence. "Would you care to start, Nymphadora?"

Tonks glowered, but merely said, "The Grangers have not heard from Hermione, and are incredibly upset with us in general and Molly Weasley in particular."

"Why are they upset at Mum?" Bill asked.

"Because she's the one who not only talked the Grangers into letting Hermione come to Headquarters after spending only two weeks at home, she also convinced Hermione. Hermione would have preferred staying with her parents until Harry arrived. Your mother convinced Mrs. Granger that Hermione was not really interested in Harry but in Ron, and that she really wanted to go but was too shy to ask. Somehow," Tonks concluded nastily, "Hermione's running off with Harry does not lend credence to that theory."

"We don't know for certain that she voluntarily ran off," Bill said weakly.

"Ron and Ginny certainly hope she didn't, but I think Hermione went with her champion," Tonks said. "I'll check back with the Grangers ever day."

"Very good. William?"

"The goblins are usually pretty open about most things, if you know how to ask," Bill said. "The manner in which they are keeping their mouths shut means, I hate to say it, that Harry has not only been there but has made some sort of agreement with them."

"And that's bad why?" Tonks asked.

"We cannot be certain of the motives behind Harry's captors. . . ."

"Why are we spending so much time on Harry, Headmaster?" Tonks demanded, breaking in on him.

"I've often asked that," Snape muttered.

Tonks ignored him. "It can't be because you feel guilty his parents died. It can't be because he's famous and losing him would be a blow to public morale. Most of the magical people in Britain are sheep -- as long as you can convince them there's no wolf, they just want to be left alone. No, Harry's is somehow necessary to defeating You-Know-Who. That's why we're guarding a prophecy about him and You-Know-Who. . . ."

"How did you know that!" Dumbledore demanded.

"I have sources, once I knew we were guarding a Prophecy," she answered. "And all prophecies are registered, you know. Harry must be the one prophesied to defeat You-Know-Who, and before you raise that wand to try and Obliviate that knowledge, I've already told a few key people. And you, Severus Snape, if you send one more Legilimency probe at me, I'll fry your arse!"

"Nymphadora, and Severus! calm yourselves."

"Something happened to Harry in that court room," Tonks went on. "Someone either possessed him, as you think, or somehow fed him information and released his adult power, as Sirius hopes. I've read ALL the reports there are on Harry, even if Fudge tried to suppress them. Harry did something to the dementors the night Sirius escaped from Hogwarts. A hundred and five of the hundred and eight dementors ran back to Azkaban and hid like frightened puppies. I can maybe drive off three. How many can you drive off, Headmaster?"

"What is the point. . . ?"

"Could you drive a hundred and five dementors all the way back to Azkaban?"

"Possibly, but probably not," Dumbledore finally said. Snape looked stunned, never having heard this before. He knew that some dementors had been driven off, but had not realized there had been nearly that many, or that Potter of all people had claimed to have done it. Surely the boy was claiming credit that did not belong to him? Still not knowing about the time turner, Snape couldn't see how that was possible.

"You might be right in believing that whatever hit Harry is still in control of him, but if he has that much power, I'm doubting it. He not only threw off Crouch Junior's Imperius, but You- Know-Who's as well, according to the story you passed on to us about the rebirthing. If Harry has somehow come into his full adult power, we'd better not give him a reason to lump us in the same pile as Fudge, let alone with You-Know-Who."

"Speaking of whom," Dumbledore said, unwilling to debate the points Tonks had raised, "Severus?"

"The Dark Lord is as confused by the series of events as we are," Snape admitted, dismissing Potter's alleged power. "Lucius was taken to task for the court fiasco, and the Dark Lord has listened to the Prophecy, he has not said so. Has there been any political fallout from Potter's tantrum?"

"Actually, there has," Dumbledore admitted. "The dementors confessed that it was indeed Umbridge who set them off towards Harry. Fudge and his supporters on the Wizengamot have tried to sweep it all under the rug, with the effect that I am back on the Wizengamot in my old seat, as I had not yet been replaced, although currently just as a common, if senior, member. Madam Umbridge has accepted the post of Ambassador to Sarawak."

"So, to some degree, they got away with attempted murder," Tonks said. Bill was too shocked to say anything, since it was clear to both him and Tonks that Dumbledore was in on the Umbridge part of the deal.

Dumbledore again ignored them. "Alastor?"

"Nothing to report," Moody said. "I know you want me to spend more time, especially nights, at Headquarters. Well, I will on two conditions."

Dumbledore frowned, but merely inquired, "And they are?"

"Get rid of those Weasleys. They were only there early to keep them from contacting Potter, and they were only allowed to stay as window dressing for Potter." Bill winced. "Molly is going to provoke Black into cursing her soon. Second, we have to do something about that blasted elf and hopefully the painting as well. Stop holding Black back on both counts."

"Very well," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "I shall talk with Molly, and you or Miss Tonks can talk with Sirius."