Saturday, June 8th
Craig Mhor
“A cat?” Hermione asked with a puzzled expression, looking over at where Molly sat. Molly shook her head, as if to say she hadn’t any idea.
“Oh, yes, it was all black, and it had a white spot just on the tip of its nose,” Alice responded excitedly, squirming on Hermione’s lap. “I tried to pet it, but it wouldn’t let me. So, I tried to get Mummy, but it had disappeared.” She leaned back and tugged Hermione’s head down. “Do you think it’s a magic cat?” she asked in an awed whisper.
“I don’t know,” Hermione whispered back, wrapping her arms around the girl’s waist.
“Mummy said,” Alice began, leaning her head on Hermione’s shoulder, “that if you said it was all right, that I could keep it. Can I keep the kitty?”
“I – errrmmm,” Hermione sputtered, staring down into Alice’s eager, earnest face. She looked up at Molly again, only to see the older woman trying to stifle a laugh over her predicament. “I can’t give you permission to keep that cat,” she said with a sigh, watching the happy expression fall from Alice’s face.
“Oh,” Alice sniffed, her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t have the kitty?”
“I didn’t say that,” she backpedaled, trying to keep the girl from crying. “I just… well, this isn’t my house, so I really can’t give you permission.”
“Well, who can?” Alice asked with a sniff, rubbing the back of her arm across her eyes. “Do you think I can ask them?”
“Why don’t I talk to your Mum first, and then, we’ll go from there, if she tells me it’s okay.”
“You don’t believe me, Aunt Hermione?” Alice asked, her voice hiccupping over Hermione’s name.
“Alice,” Molly interrupted, finally taking pity on Hermione, “it isn’t that Hermione doesn’t believe you. She just wants to confirm things with your Mum before she takes any action; adults are like that.”
“But why?” she asked, twisting around in Hermione’s lap.
“Because adults are silly,” Hermione responded, tweaking Alice’s nose.
~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~
Saturday, June 8th
Craig Mhor
“What’s all this about a cat?” Hermione asked, striding into the master bedroom.
“Cat?” Josie asked, perplexed. “Oh, the cat. Alice thought she had a cat trapped in her bedroom, but when I got up there, I didn’t see anything. Here, can you take that side?” She threw a corner of the fitted sheet over to Hermione.
“Alice was going on and on about it downstairs.” Hermione grabbed the sheet and started to tuck it under the mattress. “She even said that you would allow her to keep it, if, of course, I said it was all right. When I told her I didn’t know if she could keep it or not, she started to cry.”
“She certainly is bringing out the big guns today,” Josie said, flapping out the straight sheet over the mattress. “I told her we would talk to you about it, but in her mind, she must’ve heard ‘Aunt Hermione has to give permission.’”
“I almost caved,” Hermione mumbled, reaching over and pulled the edge of the flat sheet tight against the mattress before tucking it under.
Josie laughed, “It’s not easy to tell her no, even when she isn’t on the verge of tears.” She unfolded a blanket and tossed a side to Hermione. “Do you think there is a cat in here?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione sighed. “It would be awfully strange if there were a cat living in here; then again, if it were a Kneazle, that might explain what it was doing in a seemingly abandoned house.”
“A Kneazle? Is that some sort of strange magical cat known only to the Wizarding world?” Josie asked, bending down to grab the comforter. She flapped it out over the bed, pulling her end of the blanket tight as Hermione worked the other end.
“Actually,” Hermione laughed, “a Kneazle isn’t really a cat. It’s a very intelligent cat-like creature that can detect unsavory or suspicious persons, reacting badly to them. They are technically magical creatures, and do have some magical abilities. If they take a liking to you, though, they make bang-up pets, if you can get one; they are quite rare these days.”
“Really? And you know this because?”
“I had one, once upon a time, while I was in school. Although, Crookshanks wasn’t a full Kneazle.”
“You?” Josie asked, raising an eyebrow. “You had a pet? Something that needed an actual commitment?”
“I’ll have you know, I’m not above making a commitment,” Hermione replied with an indignant sniff, before tossing a pillow at Josie’s head.
“Of course you aren’t,” snickered Josie as she dodged the pillow.
“Yes, well, we all can’t be as lucky as you and find love in the middle of no-where,” Hermione muttered. Josie’s face went pale. “Oh shite,” she moaned, “I – I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did, Josie.”
“No, it’s all right, Hermione,” she said softly. “Neville and I were incredibly lucky.” Josie bent down to pick up the pillow, her fingers fluffing out the creases on the pillowcase before placing it at the top of the bed. “I shouldn’t’ve teased you, I know…” she trailed off.
Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed. “I used to be so jealous of you and Neville,” she whispered. Josie sat down on the other end. “It wasn’t that I was jealous of you for finding Neville, I’d known him since we were eleven and, well, frankly, still can’t imagine how anyone would think of him as a ‘love’ interest, but you did. And it was almost as if a person could see the affection between you two. My parents were like that, and I suppose that I…” Hermione hesitated, sneaking a look over at Josie, “I was jealous that I hadn’t found that.”
“I always thought you were happy as you are,” Josie said quietly.
“Oh, I’m not unhappy, not really,” Hermione sighed out. “It’s just… sometimes it’d be nice to have someone who was happy to have me as I am. Though, I’m beginning to think I’m too old for all that, too set in my ways now to change how I live.”
“Change comes whether we want it to or not,” Josie replied, leaning back against the headboard. “This isn’t exactly where I thought I’d be, and certainly not without Neville, but,” she shrugged, “here I am.”
“You at least tried,” Hermione muttered, pulling her knees up on to the bed, and arranging herself so she was seated Indian style on the bed beside Josie. “You tried, and you and Neville had something special, created something special when you had Alice. All I’ve got is a four room flat and an occasional night visitor.”
“Nothing says that it always has to be that way, Hermione; if you want things to change, then you have to be willing to make allowances for change.”
“That’s just it, Josie. I’m not sure I want to make those sort of concessions,” Hermione said, looking down at her hands. “I’m not the easiest person to get along with, and I’m really not sure I want to be structuring things and changing things about how I live to fit in with the possibility of… well, of having someone I might not particularly like all the time there… with me.” She looked up at Josie. “Does that make sense, or does it make me sound terribly spoiled?”
“No, it doesn’t sound spoiled, and yes, it does make sense. Yet, I do have to point out that every relationship goes through points where one side or the other makes concessions. Neville, as much as I loved him, wasn’t the easiest person to live with.” Josie shifted on the bed. “As much as you think everything between us was perfect, it wasn’t. Neville and I, we were normal, fallible people; we had to work at being together, even when it seemed like everything was perfect. I will say though, that if you really want to love someone, then you will, and it won’t be all roses. But, in the end, it is worth it.”
“Is it really?” Hermione asked softly. “Can you really say that now, even after everything you’ve been going through lately? Now that he’s gone?”
“Hermione,” Josie hissed out, her lips compressed in a tight line, though the words were clearly audible. “How can you ask ‘was it worth it’? You should know better than I what things are worth it in life.”
“Sometimes I wonder,” Hermione said, more to herself than to Josie, as she slid her feet down to the floor.
~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~
Saturday, June 8th
Craig Mhor
“Molly,” Josie started, wrapping her arms around the plump shorter woman. “I have to thank you for everything today. I don’t think I’d be anywhere near as done if you hadn’t come.”
“That’s what family is for,” Molly responded, giving Josie a hard squeeze. “I’m just glad Fred and George were behaved enough to work, instead of causing their usual havoc.”
“Havoc? We don’t cause havoc, do we?” Fred quipped, skirting around Molly to get a seat at the table.
“Shush you, you’re more trouble than you’re worth sometimes, George.”
“Oi, see that? She can’t even remember which one I am. What kind of Mum forgets the name of her child?” he joshed, sending a wink to Josie.
“Stop baiting your Mom,” Josie admonished, slapping Fred on the back of the head.
“Hey now, no cause for abuse! Unless,” he angled a wide eyed look up at her, ruining it by waggling his eyebrows, “you just can’t keep your hands to yourself, and if that’s the case, we can run upstairs for a quick snog.”
“Incorrigible,” Molly muttered, heading back into the kitchen. “I’ve raised incorrigible children.”
“You are truly terrible,” Josie laughed, setting a napkin beside his plate.
“Oooouch, you cruel woman, how you wound me to the quick.” He fiddled with the place setting.
“Stop that,” Josie commanded, reaching over to slap at his hand. “Don’t think I’m not on to you and your brother. I should banish you both outside until supper is ready, that way I know you two haven’t tampered with anything.” She folded another napkin and set beside another plate, as Ron came in carrying the flatware. “In fact,” she said, taking the forks from Ron, “why don’t all of you go outside for a bit. Molly and I can finish up in here.”
“What did you do now?” Ron asked in a hushed whisper.
“Shush,” Fred whispered back with a conspired air, “we’re getting out of making supper; don’t ruin it.” He pushed back the chair and looped an arm around Ron’s shoulders. “I say we make haste.”
“And no getting Alice into trouble,” Josie called after them as they walked towards the door.
Fred turned back with a Cheshire grin. “Would we do that?” He leaned over to Ron and said in a loud stage whisper, “Are you taking her up this time, or am I?”
“No brooms either,” Josie yelled as they walked out the door.
~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~
Saturday, June 8th
Hermione Granger’s Flat
“Are you still here?” Hermione called out wearily, stumbling from the fireplace into her tiny living room.
“Would you be disappointed if I wasn’t?” he asked, leaning against her bedroom door.
Hermione chewed on her lip as she considered his question. “Would you be upset if I said I don’t know?”
“That depends,” he said softly, moving to where she stood in the living room. She instinctively backed up, the back of her legs hitting the couch.
“On what?” she whispered.
“On whether you’d only miss the sex, or me if I was gone,” he replied. “Or if you’d be relieved that I wasn’t here at all.” He reached a hand out, cupping her cheek, as he moved in closer.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled into his thumb as he rubbed it across her lower lip.
“Didn’t we just have this argument last night?” he asked softly, bending his head down to hers. She felt the sharp pricks of his five o’clock shadow scrape across her neck as his lips skimmed lightly against her jaw.
“No,” she gasped out as his mouth worked its way down her neck. “Last night we argued over your right to be here, uninvited.”
He pulled back from her, watching her face. “Ah, and the verdict was?”
She looked away from his searching gaze. “What do you want from me?”
“Right this minute?” he asked. She nodded her head slowly, still not looking at him. He cupped her jaw, using his fingers to force her to look at him.
“Right this minute,” he whispered in a seductive voice against her ear, “all I can think about is being buried deep inside of you.” Hermione shivered as his voice washed over her. ”Your nails digging into my back, as I move in and out of you.” He punctuated that comment with a quick nip at the base of her throat. “All I can think about is the feel of you, clenched around me, the tightness of you rippling in orgasm as you scream my name.”
“I – I.” She tried to speak, but he placed a finger on her lips.
“Don’t speak,” he hissed out, angling his head so he could brush his lips across hers. His arms wound around her, and she could feel the fullness of his erection pressing through the layer of robes. She leaned into him, pressing her hips against him and he gasped in pleasure against her mouth.
“Can we at least make it to the bed tonight?” Hermione asked breathlessly when their kiss broke.
“Not in the mood for the floor tonight?” he chuckled, pulling her to him once more.
~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~
Chapter 7
Craig Mhor
“A cat?” Hermione asked with a puzzled expression, looking over at where Molly sat. Molly shook her head, as if to say she hadn’t any idea.
“Oh, yes, it was all black, and it had a white spot just on the tip of its nose,” Alice responded excitedly, squirming on Hermione’s lap. “I tried to pet it, but it wouldn’t let me. So, I tried to get Mummy, but it had disappeared.” She leaned back and tugged Hermione’s head down. “Do you think it’s a magic cat?” she asked in an awed whisper.
“I don’t know,” Hermione whispered back, wrapping her arms around the girl’s waist.
“Mummy said,” Alice began, leaning her head on Hermione’s shoulder, “that if you said it was all right, that I could keep it. Can I keep the kitty?”
“I – errrmmm,” Hermione sputtered, staring down into Alice’s eager, earnest face. She looked up at Molly again, only to see the older woman trying to stifle a laugh over her predicament. “I can’t give you permission to keep that cat,” she said with a sigh, watching the happy expression fall from Alice’s face.
“Oh,” Alice sniffed, her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t have the kitty?”
“I didn’t say that,” she backpedaled, trying to keep the girl from crying. “I just… well, this isn’t my house, so I really can’t give you permission.”
“Well, who can?” Alice asked with a sniff, rubbing the back of her arm across her eyes. “Do you think I can ask them?”
“Why don’t I talk to your Mum first, and then, we’ll go from there, if she tells me it’s okay.”
“You don’t believe me, Aunt Hermione?” Alice asked, her voice hiccupping over Hermione’s name.
“Alice,” Molly interrupted, finally taking pity on Hermione, “it isn’t that Hermione doesn’t believe you. She just wants to confirm things with your Mum before she takes any action; adults are like that.”
“But why?” she asked, twisting around in Hermione’s lap.
“Because adults are silly,” Hermione responded, tweaking Alice’s nose.
Saturday, June 8th
Craig Mhor
“What’s all this about a cat?” Hermione asked, striding into the master bedroom.
“Cat?” Josie asked, perplexed. “Oh, the cat. Alice thought she had a cat trapped in her bedroom, but when I got up there, I didn’t see anything. Here, can you take that side?” She threw a corner of the fitted sheet over to Hermione.
“Alice was going on and on about it downstairs.” Hermione grabbed the sheet and started to tuck it under the mattress. “She even said that you would allow her to keep it, if, of course, I said it was all right. When I told her I didn’t know if she could keep it or not, she started to cry.”
“She certainly is bringing out the big guns today,” Josie said, flapping out the straight sheet over the mattress. “I told her we would talk to you about it, but in her mind, she must’ve heard ‘Aunt Hermione has to give permission.’”
“I almost caved,” Hermione mumbled, reaching over and pulled the edge of the flat sheet tight against the mattress before tucking it under.
Josie laughed, “It’s not easy to tell her no, even when she isn’t on the verge of tears.” She unfolded a blanket and tossed a side to Hermione. “Do you think there is a cat in here?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione sighed. “It would be awfully strange if there were a cat living in here; then again, if it were a Kneazle, that might explain what it was doing in a seemingly abandoned house.”
“A Kneazle? Is that some sort of strange magical cat known only to the Wizarding world?” Josie asked, bending down to grab the comforter. She flapped it out over the bed, pulling her end of the blanket tight as Hermione worked the other end.
“Actually,” Hermione laughed, “a Kneazle isn’t really a cat. It’s a very intelligent cat-like creature that can detect unsavory or suspicious persons, reacting badly to them. They are technically magical creatures, and do have some magical abilities. If they take a liking to you, though, they make bang-up pets, if you can get one; they are quite rare these days.”
“Really? And you know this because?”
“I had one, once upon a time, while I was in school. Although, Crookshanks wasn’t a full Kneazle.”
“You?” Josie asked, raising an eyebrow. “You had a pet? Something that needed an actual commitment?”
“I’ll have you know, I’m not above making a commitment,” Hermione replied with an indignant sniff, before tossing a pillow at Josie’s head.
“Of course you aren’t,” snickered Josie as she dodged the pillow.
“Yes, well, we all can’t be as lucky as you and find love in the middle of no-where,” Hermione muttered. Josie’s face went pale. “Oh shite,” she moaned, “I – I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did, Josie.”
“No, it’s all right, Hermione,” she said softly. “Neville and I were incredibly lucky.” Josie bent down to pick up the pillow, her fingers fluffing out the creases on the pillowcase before placing it at the top of the bed. “I shouldn’t’ve teased you, I know…” she trailed off.
Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed. “I used to be so jealous of you and Neville,” she whispered. Josie sat down on the other end. “It wasn’t that I was jealous of you for finding Neville, I’d known him since we were eleven and, well, frankly, still can’t imagine how anyone would think of him as a ‘love’ interest, but you did. And it was almost as if a person could see the affection between you two. My parents were like that, and I suppose that I…” Hermione hesitated, sneaking a look over at Josie, “I was jealous that I hadn’t found that.”
“I always thought you were happy as you are,” Josie said quietly.
“Oh, I’m not unhappy, not really,” Hermione sighed out. “It’s just… sometimes it’d be nice to have someone who was happy to have me as I am. Though, I’m beginning to think I’m too old for all that, too set in my ways now to change how I live.”
“Change comes whether we want it to or not,” Josie replied, leaning back against the headboard. “This isn’t exactly where I thought I’d be, and certainly not without Neville, but,” she shrugged, “here I am.”
“You at least tried,” Hermione muttered, pulling her knees up on to the bed, and arranging herself so she was seated Indian style on the bed beside Josie. “You tried, and you and Neville had something special, created something special when you had Alice. All I’ve got is a four room flat and an occasional night visitor.”
“Nothing says that it always has to be that way, Hermione; if you want things to change, then you have to be willing to make allowances for change.”
“That’s just it, Josie. I’m not sure I want to make those sort of concessions,” Hermione said, looking down at her hands. “I’m not the easiest person to get along with, and I’m really not sure I want to be structuring things and changing things about how I live to fit in with the possibility of… well, of having someone I might not particularly like all the time there… with me.” She looked up at Josie. “Does that make sense, or does it make me sound terribly spoiled?”
“No, it doesn’t sound spoiled, and yes, it does make sense. Yet, I do have to point out that every relationship goes through points where one side or the other makes concessions. Neville, as much as I loved him, wasn’t the easiest person to live with.” Josie shifted on the bed. “As much as you think everything between us was perfect, it wasn’t. Neville and I, we were normal, fallible people; we had to work at being together, even when it seemed like everything was perfect. I will say though, that if you really want to love someone, then you will, and it won’t be all roses. But, in the end, it is worth it.”
“Is it really?” Hermione asked softly. “Can you really say that now, even after everything you’ve been going through lately? Now that he’s gone?”
“Hermione,” Josie hissed out, her lips compressed in a tight line, though the words were clearly audible. “How can you ask ‘was it worth it’? You should know better than I what things are worth it in life.”
“Sometimes I wonder,” Hermione said, more to herself than to Josie, as she slid her feet down to the floor.
Saturday, June 8th
Craig Mhor
“Molly,” Josie started, wrapping her arms around the plump shorter woman. “I have to thank you for everything today. I don’t think I’d be anywhere near as done if you hadn’t come.”
“That’s what family is for,” Molly responded, giving Josie a hard squeeze. “I’m just glad Fred and George were behaved enough to work, instead of causing their usual havoc.”
“Havoc? We don’t cause havoc, do we?” Fred quipped, skirting around Molly to get a seat at the table.
“Shush you, you’re more trouble than you’re worth sometimes, George.”
“Oi, see that? She can’t even remember which one I am. What kind of Mum forgets the name of her child?” he joshed, sending a wink to Josie.
“Stop baiting your Mom,” Josie admonished, slapping Fred on the back of the head.
“Hey now, no cause for abuse! Unless,” he angled a wide eyed look up at her, ruining it by waggling his eyebrows, “you just can’t keep your hands to yourself, and if that’s the case, we can run upstairs for a quick snog.”
“Incorrigible,” Molly muttered, heading back into the kitchen. “I’ve raised incorrigible children.”
“You are truly terrible,” Josie laughed, setting a napkin beside his plate.
“Oooouch, you cruel woman, how you wound me to the quick.” He fiddled with the place setting.
“Stop that,” Josie commanded, reaching over to slap at his hand. “Don’t think I’m not on to you and your brother. I should banish you both outside until supper is ready, that way I know you two haven’t tampered with anything.” She folded another napkin and set beside another plate, as Ron came in carrying the flatware. “In fact,” she said, taking the forks from Ron, “why don’t all of you go outside for a bit. Molly and I can finish up in here.”
“What did you do now?” Ron asked in a hushed whisper.
“Shush,” Fred whispered back with a conspired air, “we’re getting out of making supper; don’t ruin it.” He pushed back the chair and looped an arm around Ron’s shoulders. “I say we make haste.”
“And no getting Alice into trouble,” Josie called after them as they walked towards the door.
Fred turned back with a Cheshire grin. “Would we do that?” He leaned over to Ron and said in a loud stage whisper, “Are you taking her up this time, or am I?”
“No brooms either,” Josie yelled as they walked out the door.
Saturday, June 8th
Hermione Granger’s Flat
“Are you still here?” Hermione called out wearily, stumbling from the fireplace into her tiny living room.
“Would you be disappointed if I wasn’t?” he asked, leaning against her bedroom door.
Hermione chewed on her lip as she considered his question. “Would you be upset if I said I don’t know?”
“That depends,” he said softly, moving to where she stood in the living room. She instinctively backed up, the back of her legs hitting the couch.
“On what?” she whispered.
“On whether you’d only miss the sex, or me if I was gone,” he replied. “Or if you’d be relieved that I wasn’t here at all.” He reached a hand out, cupping her cheek, as he moved in closer.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled into his thumb as he rubbed it across her lower lip.
“Didn’t we just have this argument last night?” he asked softly, bending his head down to hers. She felt the sharp pricks of his five o’clock shadow scrape across her neck as his lips skimmed lightly against her jaw.
“No,” she gasped out as his mouth worked its way down her neck. “Last night we argued over your right to be here, uninvited.”
He pulled back from her, watching her face. “Ah, and the verdict was?”
She looked away from his searching gaze. “What do you want from me?”
“Right this minute?” he asked. She nodded her head slowly, still not looking at him. He cupped her jaw, using his fingers to force her to look at him.
“Right this minute,” he whispered in a seductive voice against her ear, “all I can think about is being buried deep inside of you.” Hermione shivered as his voice washed over her. ”Your nails digging into my back, as I move in and out of you.” He punctuated that comment with a quick nip at the base of her throat. “All I can think about is the feel of you, clenched around me, the tightness of you rippling in orgasm as you scream my name.”
“I – I.” She tried to speak, but he placed a finger on her lips.
“Don’t speak,” he hissed out, angling his head so he could brush his lips across hers. His arms wound around her, and she could feel the fullness of his erection pressing through the layer of robes. She leaned into him, pressing her hips against him and he gasped in pleasure against her mouth.
“Can we at least make it to the bed tonight?” Hermione asked breathlessly when their kiss broke.
“Not in the mood for the floor tonight?” he chuckled, pulling her to him once more.
Chapter 7
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