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Chapter 9: Settling in at Grimauld Place

He followed Hermione into the bathroom where the shower was already running. He grinned, thinking of her under the warm spray, all wet and soft and soapy. He carefully drew back the curtain to see Hermione sitting on the floor of the shower, crying.

"Oh Harry," she wailed, "I just know I'm going to Hell!"

He knelt down in the shower, gathered her into a wet bare hug and asked, "What have you done that's so awful that Hell has a claim on you?"

"I've loved you so long, Harry, so long that I got you drunk and took advantage of you last night and now you and everyone will know I'm just a slut and a whore who tricked you into bed and now you'll hate me and - and - and . . ."

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," he cooed, "You didn't get me drunk. I came to you three sheets to the wind already, and -- hey!"

"What hey?"

"We were both completely drunk last night, right?"

"Um hum," she agreed morosely.

"So why aren't we hung over?"

"Sobering charm works on hangovers too," she confessed.

"When?"

"When you kissed me in the foyer, just before you carried me up to bed."

"That means neither of us was drunk last night!"

"Which means everything we did, we wanted to do anyway. Oh Harry! It's all real, you really do love me?"

"Do you know when I first knew I loved you?" he asked.

"Yule Ball?" she guessed.

"Way before that, during second year," he explained "You had been petrified by the basilisk and were just lying there all frozen. It was like you were dead, hardly breathing, heart barely beating. I couldn't stand to see you like that. Madame Pomfrey promised me that you'd be all right, soon as the mandrakes were ready, but I wanted you back. It was like there was a hole in the world because you were gone. Promise me, if I tell you I did something awful, that you'll try to understand and won't hate me?" His eyes were pleading and she nodded.

"I kissed you, while you were like that; I kissed you for what seemed like hours, even though I know it couldn't have been more than five minutes."

"Was that all you did?" she asked, a little worried.

"No, nothing else. I just - I just wanted you back y'know?"

"Why the kiss?"

"Well, in stories like Sleeping Beauty and Snow White, the prince would, kiss the princess . . ." he shrugged.

"That was very sweet Harry. Now I can honestly say you were my first kiss. I just wish I could have been aware and awake to enjoy it," she smirked and then laughed out loud.

"What?"

"Well, most people don't know this because all they get is the "Disney" version of the fairy tales."

He looked puzzled.

"Well, take Snow White. She bit the poison apple and fell into a deep sleep. Along comes the 'prince' who sees a young sleeping girl and what does he do?"

"Um, kisses her?"

"Nope, fucks her brains out - and she just slept through the whole thing. Got preggers from the one time too."

Harry began to panic, "Um, are we, um, y'know . . ."

"It's okay, I'm on the potion." Her eyes twinkled. "Good thing too - you pumped enough of your stuff in me to repopulate Diagon Alley!"

"I love you Hermione. I have always loved you and I always will," he smiled as he held her at arms length, warm water cascading over both of them. "And if the devil himself comes to take you, I'll fight him - I will storm the gates of Hell to bring you back to me, my Hermione!"

She cried and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck "I love you Harry. Never, ever doubt that!"

He wrapped his arms around her and cooed, "My 'Mione, my 'Mione, it's all right, it's all right, you're here and that's all that matters."

He helped her to stand then stood back a half-step so that he could look at her. Her breasts were 'B' cups with fairly large areolas, her waist waspish giving her a nice hourglass figure. Her bushy hair was repeated at her pubis, and like the hair on her head was very soft.

"Like what you see Mr. Potter?" she smirked.

"Nope" he said decisively, and was amused by her crestfallen expression. "Nope, don't like it. I love it more than anything else in the world!"

"Ooooooh, you're going to 'get it' for that mister!"

"Promise?" It was his turn to smirk.

"Promise." She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him roundly.

It's a very good thing the water in the shower was charmed to stay warm, otherwise the amount of time they spent there 'getting it' would have used up all the water in a conventional water heater - about three homes worth of hot water.

Eventually the squeaky clean couple stepped out of the shower and had fun drying each other off. As they walked back into the bedroom with their towels wrapped around them, they saw that dressing gowns were laid out on the bed, one for each of them.

"You seem to have a butler, Harry," she observed.

"Um, yes," he agreed as he picked up the envelope from the nightstand. He broke the wax seal and read.

Lord Potter,

Your house elf has been arrested, tried and sentenced by the Council of Elders. The sentence - death of personality, and a lifetime of servitude to the house that he has so grievously wronged - was carried out just after moonset on the 31st of October. This life sentence can not be commuted except by a majority of the Council of Elders and will be in effect for the mean duration of a wizard's life; seven score years and seven.

Signed,
Sage, Fist among Elders

P.S. I know you are not familiar with our elfin judiciary. Suffice it to say that your house elf has been dealt with - his mind and all memories have been erased. His original elfin name is Meacham and his only wish will be to serve you to the best of his abilities. Like all good house elves he will be invisible and he will keep your secrets. If he survives the 147 year sentence, he will be welcomed back into elfin society. Sadly, he will probably not, for he is already quite old, even for an elf. Please treat him well; he has no memory of the wrongs he has done in his life and he was influenced by some of the darkest wizards of this past age.

Sage,
Eldest of the Council of Elders

"Meacham!" Harry called out.

The old butler appeared before them and half bowed from the waist, "Sir?"

"Will you be needing any help around the house, Meacham?"

The old elf stiffened, and for a moment Harry was afraid that he was reverting to the Kreature that he had been before the 'change.'

"I know that I am no longer a young elf, sir, but I am fully capable of carrying out my duties."

"I meant no offence Meacham, I only want you to know that you don't have to do everything around here. If you need assistance with the cooking or cleaning or building maintenance, you have only to ask."

"My body may not be as strong as it once was, sir, but I assure you my magic is undiminished." Saying that Meacham snapped his fingers and every brass surface in the room - and there were hundreds of brass fixtures in the room, including a dropped ceiling that resembled lacework - gleamed as though polished to a high shine by a million small buffers.

"My apologies Meacham. I see that you are more than capable; we will speak no more of it," Harry said very diplomatically, which seemed to placate the old elf.

"Very well sir. Will you and the lady be having breakfast now?"

"Yes, this is my lady Hermione Granger. She will be spending a lot of time here."

"Very well. Breakfast will be in the small dining room off the kitchens, sir, ma'am." Having said that, the old elf faded from sight.

"Apparently Meacham is going to be a fixture around here," Harry said then looked around, "Hey, I just noticed something."

"What?"

"Don't you remember what this place looked like two summers ago?"

"Um, don't remind me," she said, slightly hesitantly.

"This place has been cleaned from top to bottom; there isn't a speck of dust anywhere to be seen!"

"Let's go exploring right after breakfast," she suggested.

They walked down the stair to the kitchens - which were also gleaming like new - then walked into the small dining room.

"This is the small dining room?" she asked.

"Yeah, the big ones just off the main entrance through here he pointed. You remember?"

"Well, quite a lot has happened since then Harry . . ."

"Tell me about it," he groused.

He held the chair out for Hermione, and then lifted the covers off the warming trays.

"Wow, kippers, bangers, toast, and scrambled eggs."

"Tea and coffee!" she rejoiced. "I could get used to this!"

"No more S.P.E.W. y'know; the only house elves left will be like Meacham here, working off a debt to wizard society and maybe a few elf employees until they all head to the Western Lands." Harry mused.

"People are beginning to refer to the freed elves as the "Israelites" y'know?"

"So that's what Ginny meant when she said my Israelites had transported the prisoners; she was referring to the elves."

"You know, if the Israelites are the slaves freed from Egypt that makes you . . ."

"Don't even go there!"

"Hey - you've been the 'Boy Who Lived,' the 'Man Who Triumphed,' and now you get to be the Elfin Moses."

"I just can't get a break, can I?"

"As I understand it, some elves are already building ships; they're beautifully formed boats that look like a cross between a Phoenician sailing vessel and a swan, all rounded and sleek, with a single mast, a square sail and a spinnaker."

"I'll bet they're beautiful, I'd like to see one when it's finished."

"Y'know Harry," she said as she helped herself to a spoonful of eggs, "there will be some economic backlash to your freeing of the elves."

"Yeah, I've thought of that. The wizarding world is just going to have to do what the rest of us have been doing all along. Hire people trained in the service industries, housekeeping, cooking, gardening, and whatever else the elves took care of. I know there are some non-magical people who are familiar with the magical world, squibs and the like, who would be willing to take over for the elves. Of course, they'd have to be paid."

"And that's where the problems will come in."

"Hermione, who owned most of the house elves?"

"Um, Hogwarts, I believe."

"Yep, and now Headmistress McGonagall will be hiring people to take care of the castle. The students could be part of it too; imagine having a 'service week' where each house would be responsible for some of the things the elves have been doing - y'know, scullery, food service, maintenance. It'd be good for some of those spoiled brats to get their hands dirty from time to time; make em' appreciate what others have to do to make sure their clothes are clean and their meals are served."

"The Slytherins would never go for it."

"Then the Slytherins won't eat; let them try that one on for size!"

"D'you think Professor McGonagall will go for it?"

"Can't hurt to ask."

They thought about it for a while as they tucked in. After breakfast they carried their dishes to the sink to rinse when Meacham appeared, "Thank you sir, ma'am, but just leave the dishes. I will attend to them."

"Oh, all right Meacham, thanks."

"Quite welcome sir, ma'am."

"Ready for the cook's tour?" Harry asked.

"Lead on, good sir."

They climbed to the third floor and Harry reminded her "This is where Sirius kept Buckbeak in our fifth year." What they found was a large room with a polished hardwood floor and a wall of mirrors. Hermione squealed, "It's a studio!"

"Sorry, studio?"

"Yes, a dance studio, it must have been one before Sirius used it as a hippogriff house. Oh, it's beautiful," she enthused.

She walked over to the bar and placed her right ankle on it before bending forward to grasp it and stretch.

"You took dance lessons?"

"Yep, since I was six, then during the summers when I wasn't at school."

"I never knew! How is it that I never knew?"

"Well, a girl's got to have some secrets, now doesn't she?"

"Of course. Let's see what else."

They descended the stairs looking into the bedrooms, now spic and span and ready for someone to move in - several someone's actually - there were ten guest rooms in addition to the master were they had spent the night.

"We should christen each of the rooms!" she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

He groaned in mock petulance. "Please woman, I'm not a machine!"

She smirked and opened her dressing gown revealing the fit young body beneath.

"Okay, we'll start with this one!" he said and literally pounced on her, forcing her onto the bed.

She wrestled herself out of the robe and pulled the knot on his belt to loosen his robe. He stood and looked at her, her eyes bright in anticipation as he dropped his robe off his shoulders. She sat up and said, "Let me try something Harry, I've done a little research and I think I can do this."

She silently guided him onto the bed to lie on his back; then knelt beside him with her knees pointing toward his feet. She took a deep breath and bent down to guide his erection into her mouth, guiding it into her esophagus so that her nose was in his scrotum and his entire length was down her throat, then she swallowed three times in rapid succession.

"Merlin, Morgana and Maeve!" he exclaimed.

She pulled off his throbbing member with a loud 'pop' and asked, "You like?"

"The words haven't been invented yet that say how much I like!"

She smiled and went back to work.

It was a very smug Hermione and a very relaxed looking Harry that left the room a half-hour later.

"We'll get to the other rooms later, now I want to see the library," she said.

"Why am I not surprised? I'll bet you've read every book in Hogwarts, haven't you?"

"If they're in the library, yes!" she agreed

"Even in the Restricted Section?" he asked.

"How do you think I learned to control my gag reflex?" she smirked.

"I'm beginning to love research." He smiled in return.

They walked into the library which had a charmed ceiling to resemble a large double skylight; really a neat trick when you consider the library was on the first floor of a three story building. It was well lit and clean, with a long library table and a dozen comfortable chairs for reading, studying or just lounging with a book or magazine.

A slight moan escaped Hermione's lips as she surveyed the bookshelves. The library didn't have walls per se; it had shelves and shelves of books. And what books! There were arcane tomes that covered every aspect of soul magic, blood magic, grey magic and one full wall of nothing but potions texts.

"Uh oh, I think I may have made a mistake bringing you in here," he chided.

She growled and grabbed Harry by his lapels and pulled him into a bruisingly fierce kiss, "This room, this room next, this room now!"

Who was he to argue he deepened the kiss and walked her backwards to the sturdy table, then lifted her up so that she sat on the table and he stood in front of her. He coaxed her legs open then looked thoughtful for just a moment.

"Half a tic, don't go away," he said as he picked a random book off the shelf. It was /Love Charms, Magical Cures and Other Practical Sorcery/. He placed the small book on the table and said "Stand here and read it, aloud."

She looked puzzled but hopped down and turned around and picked up the book to read.

"Leave the book open on the table."

She placed the book on the table, bending slightly at the waist and began to read. "On a Friday night light a white votive candle and place it in a glass cup or in a lantern."

Harry gently directed Hermione to bend further over the table so that his crotch was nicely aligned with her bum as she continued to read.

"Imagine that the flame is the bright flame of love burning within your lover's heart . . ."

He rubbed her back as she read, then released the tie on his belt so that his robe fell open and freed his not so soft member to nestle between her bum cheeks.

Hermione began to breathe heavily and her voice dropped a whole octave as she continued to read and Harry began to rub.

". . . and that the lantern is your lover's torso."

He lifted the hem of her robe to expose her beautifully rounded hemispheres and draped the fabric across her back. A light sticking charm ensured the hem wouldn't fall back into place at an inopportune moment.

"As you stare into the flame, will the flame to rise."

Harry's shaft was now nestled firmly in the crack of her bum and her concentration began to wane.

"You - your own pash - passion will make it rise. Oh, Harry!"

"Keep reading" he insisted, ever so gently.

"When it does, think of your emotions pouring into the flame - oh Gawd!"

Harry pulled back and placed his throbbing member along her sopping entrance.

"Think - think posit - positively of your lover and draw him in!"

At the word 'in', he placed the head of his cock at the entrance to her wet folds and just held it there.

"Don't stop reading, my Hermione, and I won't stop."

"Into the warmpth!"

Harry pushed his member into her wet, inviting 'warmpth' in a single, smooth stroke.

"The warmth of the candle as it - oh Harry! - rises and diminishes!"

He began stroking in and out, slowly, the entire length of his cock, from tip to base. Hermione's body felt like it was being deliciously split in two. She gamely continued. "Say the following."

She dropped her forehead to the open pages and began to moan, then lifted her head to read.

"May this flame of passion burn within your heart,
So from me you will never seek to part."

The Ever-Lit candles in the library flared for a few minutes. Reading aloud was forgotten the book was forgotten; the only thing that mattered was the length of his manhood plundering the depths of her warm, sopping wet center.

Slow strokes gave way to rapid pounding plunges and moans gave way to cries of "Oh yes, oh yes, oh fuck yes!" as she felt his release coat her insides with the now-familiar liquid heat of his come.

He continued to push his flagging member into her as he came down from his latest peak, rubbing her back as he said "I love you, my 'Mione, I love you /so much/!"

She was so in love at that moment, she felt she could stay like that, with him firmly nestled inside her, forever. The image that produced made her snort in mirth.

"What is it?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh Harry, I was just thinking that I'd love it if we would just stay like this forever, but then I thought about trying to walk like this and . . ."

Harry saw the image in his mind's eye and guffawed at the thought.

"It's so good to hear you laugh, love!"

"I guess I have been a bit serious of late, huh?"

"Serious? You've been positively morbid! But that stops today. Fist thing we're going to do is get you some new clothes. Let's go Mr. Potter, Diagon Alley awaits!"

"Just one small problem," he said.

"What?"

"We'll have to move away from the table, go upstairs, and get dressed to go out."

"Hmmm, let's see," she said as she gingerly placed her right foot on top of his right foot and her left foot on top of his left foot, toes pointing slightly inward so that she was resting atop his instep. "Hold my waist," she instructed, with Harry still fully ensconced within her warm center. She straightened slightly and smirked. "All right Mr. Potter - walk!"

They made it almost as far as the library door when he slipped out of her and she jumped down, laughing.

"We'll just have to work on that my love. 'Tandem walking' could very well become a new sport with us!"

"Just not a spectator sport," he rejoined.

"I imagine the ratings would go right up if it were!"

"Goin' for the gold!"

They continued to laugh all the way up the stars to the master bedroom. When they got there, their day-clothes were laid out on the bed, neatly cleaned and pressed and ready for wear.

"I'll have to find some way to show Meacham how much we appreciate all he's doing around here," Harry said as he looked at his nicely repaired shirt, buttons back in place and all.

They took a very short shower together - to conserve water, of course - and were soon dressed and walked downstairs hand in hand. As they neared the front door, Meacham appeared with cloaks for each of them, both bearing the Black family crest.

Harry thanked the old elf, who assured the young master of the house that it was no more than his due.

"Meacham, I've never really had a, um . . ."

"Servant?"

"Yes, a servant before. I'd like you to be happy here. Is there anything I can do to show you that I appreciate all you do here?"

"Well, sir . . ." The small man looked slightly embarrassed.

"Yes?"

"A room of my own would be very good sir, as we seem to have quite a few. I would like a room, sir."

"Whichever one you would like, consider it yours."

"Thank you sir," he said, and for the first time - possibly since he was an elfin child - the little man smiled.

"We'll be out all day Meacham, so you don't have to worry about lunch. Can we have shepherd's pie for supper?"

"Of course sir; will seven o'clock be acceptable sir?"

"Seven it is. Good day, Meacham."

"Good day sir, ma'am."

As the old elf held the door open Harry and Hermione stepped hand in hand out onto the landing then froze.

A lone Dementor hovered at the base of the stairs. It appeared to be bowing, with its skeletal hands stretched toward them as if in supplication.