Go ahead, he said, his eyes still closed. Hello Hermione, he replied in his usual tone, albeit with a hint of warmth. For an instant, she was struck by how carefree he looked, as though the weight of the world was not on his shoulders. She would not fail him again.īrushing past a few branches and trimmed hedges, she finally found him sitting by a lake, his eyes closed in relaxation. Hermione still cringed at the way she treated Harry for nine months, and the trials it took to convince him that she still cared and trusted him. Ron’s glances at her had her uncomfortable, while Ginny’s hungry glances at the manor and ( her! Her mind screamed at her, despite her best efforts) Harry.Īfter setting down her bags, she noticed her friend (former, she thought sadly) leave the house and followed him. Weasley being quelled with a glance before she started to rant was rather funny. She had noticed the twins smile mischievously at that and fervently hoped that they listened to him. Harry had been there, calmly greeting them, informing them where they were going to sleep and more-or-less introducing them to the facilities there before warning them not to enter one of the chambers. A flame burning in the hearth, comfortable seats, a book-rack and the large window made it look like the perfect retreat, as opposed to being the ancestral estate of nobility. When she, her parents and the Weasleys were sent to the man hall of the keep via portkey, the simple elegance of the decor took her breath away. Hermione’s eyes widened as she took in the opulence of Potter Manor, from the well-kept gardens to the elegant and ancient building itself. He had an army of unwanted guests to prepare for. Shaking out of the memories, Harry continued on his walk. There were times when the dragon raged through him, demanding that she submit, taunting him to take her, to claim her… There were times when he wanted her to leave, because the wounds were still fresh. There were times when, while looking at Hermione helping him, he wanted to forgive her and confess how much he cared for her. He had (with some worry) noticed that her grades had not improved, but he had yet to confront her about that. This loyalty to him had been cemented when she stayed and helped him with the more esoteric magic, comforting him when the nightmares raged in his mind, nursing him back to health when a spell or ritual backfired all without complaint. He had his doubts, of course, but she had remained faithful to him, despite the exams and coursework. It had taken a lot of time and patience, but he eventually got used to the idea of having a partner. Much to his surprise, Hermione had remained loyal to her oath never questioning him and always ensuring that she was there for him. She’d bound herself to him as penance (that was the only thing he could call it), sworn to help him and never betray him or his secrets. While the senior Grangers’ reaction to him and his home was something to consider, there was also the issue of Hermione.Īfter he had learned to ignore the way her absence affected him last year quite well, her sudden reappearance in his life had been met with feelings of betrayal, hurt and anger, especially after she had intruded on his privacy and witnessed his transformation into the dragon. There was also the issue of the Grangers to consider. This would put him in close contact with the Weasleys for the next two months, starting in about two hours from now. The desperation in the old mage’s voice was so surprising that he had relented. Dumbledore had requested that he allow his Manor to be used as a safehouse where the Weasleys and the Grangers could retreat to. The solitude was welcoming.īut it wouldn’t be for long. He had placed his parents’ personal notes on spellcasting in the library, where they belonged, while the house-imps arranged the Black relics.ĭespite this, the Manor was quiet. Some days had him alternate between Godric’s Hallow, Grimmauld Place and the estate, rescuing his parents’ belongings (still under protective magic) and the Black heirlooms, preserving them in his Manor’s walls. The books and artifacts in the estate’s library, while not as varied as Slytherin’s collection, were still beyond what most private collections had to offer.Ĭontrary to what some may have thought, he hadn’t spent all his nights in the Chamber. When he’d assumed the mantle of Lord Potter shortly after his sixteenth birthday, he’d been informed of the location of his ancestral estate - and it was a godsend. Harry sighed wistfully as he walked along the corridors of his family’s ancestral home.
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