Hogwarts's open courtyards had never seemed so still. The silence was stark, the emptiness jarring. It seemed almost abandoned, a relic turned ancient in only a month. The most deserted Harry had ever seen the school before was during winter holiday when most of the student body had gone home for Christmas. But even then there were a handful of students who stayed behind with Harry. If ever it got this deathly quiet, this unmoving, it was certain to be shortly broken by the arrival of someone else. This was perfect solitude. It was almost as though Harry and the girl at his side were the last people left on the planet.

And yet, the emptiness of the open grounds was preferable to the vacant, echoing halls of the castle behind them. Without the press of students or the sweeping presence of the teachers, the vaulted ceilings and endless halls seemed almost tomb-like in their cavernous hollowness. It was a relief to be outside, though the outdoors was just as lonely.

Harry and Hermione strolled across the yard slowly, no particular destination in mind. Once they'd stepped out into the sunlight Hermione had, without a word, slipped her hand into his. Harry didn't object or resist, there was no one to see or care but them.

They were still walking hand in hand. In its own way, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Hermione was somewhere else; Harry could see it in her expression when he glanced toward her face. He wished he could be where she was, because it repeatedly brought a content, dreamy half-smile to her lips and clouded her eyes. He didn't ask her where she was going in her mind. He didn't want to rip her from it. Instead he enjoyed the way it softened her face so wonderfully, touched her features with an untroubled ease that seemed so rare and treasured in light of recent times.

Their meandering took them to the base of the beech tree at the shores of the Black Lake. They'd arrived there almost by silent agreement, and Hermione at last let go of his hand to sit on the ground. Harry sat down beside her and leaned back against the tree. Hermione scooted over to share the trunk with him. Harry inched over as much as he could, but the tree was not that broad and for them both to lean against it they had to settle for also leaning against each other. Hermione tucked into his side, curled with the book in her lap and her knees almost in Harry's lap, and he truly did not mind in the least.

Hermione sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Harry went to another place himself where his only experience was the press of her at his side, her hair tickling his cheek and neck, her sigh very near his ear. He smiled faintly to himself.

They watched the sunlight glint off the ripples in the lake's surface in silence a few minutes. This they would not have during term.

"Are you terribly upset with me?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

Harry was thrown. He'd been so content, so fully at ease under the shade of the tree, that the question seemed utterly out of place. "For what?"

Hermione pulled away enough to take her head off his shoulder and Harry missed it. "This business of going to my grandmum's."

"Oh." Harry had honestly, for a minute, forgotten. Now that he was reminded once more he was back to being displeased about the whole affair. Harry looked critically at Hermione. "I'm not upset with you. I know you're only trying to help. I just don't like what I've dragged you into. And your parents. You don't deserve it."

"And you do?" she asked shortly, that fire of Hermione Granger catching tinder.

"No, but that still doesn't make it right that I should force you to be in danger, too. I owe you better."

"Will you just accept that as long as you're in the thick of it I will be too?"

Harry closed his eyes. He understood that only too well… well enough for it to make him ache. "I won't stop trying to protect you." He said it in the tone of a promise, a vow.

"Neither will I when it comes to you." Hermione was quiet a moment. Harry looked out over the lake, recalling the murky depths, the merpeople, the grindylows. It looked so much nicer from the surface.

"It scares me, you know."

Harry glanced at Hermione to see her worrying the edge of the book/portkey anxiously. "Voldemort?"

Hermione shook her head. "You. I'm scared one day you're just going to leave. Decide you're better off without me and go."

"I'll never be better off without you," Harry said, "but you may be better off without me."

"That's not true."

Harry shrugged and tipped his head back to rest against the tree. He suspected he and Hermione could go in circles on this all day and not accomplish anything. Definitely never reach a consensus. And he couldn't assuage her fears and tell her he'd never strike off on his own without telling her, without taking her. He could see where one day it might be the only way to keep her safe. If it came to that, he'd do it. He closed his eyes and let a handful of heavy seconds fall away.

"There's another reason I thought we should go to my gram's, besides what I told Dumbledore."

Harry cracked open his eyes and looked over at her curiously.

Hermione met his gaze steadily. "She lives in the country. Before my grandpa died he trained horses, was quite good at it, actually. They had this beautiful farm, with meadows and creeks… it would be a perfect place for us to work on our 'project'."

There wasn't an appropriate emotional response to that. Harry hardly felt the potential benefit to their animagus work came even close to outweighing the risk posed by Voldemort finding him. Since his nightmare, their animagus project had not even entered into his mind. But he knew Hermione would be thinking in four directions at once. That was just classic Hermione.

"Dumbledore seems to think it's a good idea," Harry finally conceded. "I trust him to know what he's doing."

It was the closest to an endorsement she would get out of Harry. From the nod and look in her eyes, she knew it, too. She leaned further into his side, to put more of her weight on the tree, but she didn't put her head back on his shoulder. Harry was mildly disappointed at that. "I can ask my mum to drive us up there on Saturday. It's just two days from now and I'm sure she'd like to see her mum for a while; I hope that's soon enough. I bet Gram would have us for at least two weeks. Honestly, she'd probably have us longer, but Mum and Dad will want us home before that long. Would be hard to come up with an excuse for staying longer, I think."

Harry looked quickly at Hermione. "Are you not planning on telling them the reason for all of this?"

"No." Hermione scowled out over the water. "No, I've thought on it, and I just don't think it would help any to tell them. Gorby will be there if anything goes wrong, to get Mum and Dad safe to Hogwarts, but should it not go wrong then there's no reason to worry them needlessly."

Harry didn't say it, but he would bet his Firebolt that another reason for her secrecy that she had not named was the fear that, if Miranda and Jake knew the full extent of the situation, they'd feel they had no choice but to separate Harry and Hermione. No choice but to send Harry away. Because Harry feared that, too, he wouldn't challenge Hermione's decision to deceive her parents. He'd take the coward's path in this and let Hermione call the shots under the convenient guise of 'they're her parents, she'd know how to handle them best'.

"Something you must know about my grandmother before we go… she doesn't know that I'm a witch."

Harry turned a flabbergasted expression on her. "She doesn't?"

Hermione shook her head. "When my parents discovered I was a witch, they made the decision not to tell anyone in the family. Truth be told, I think they sort of hoped it was a phase I'd grow out of. After that it was just easier to keep it quiet. My Gram's nice, but stuck in her ways. Magic and wizards are fairy tales to her."

"Huh," Harry muttered, finding the notion that anyone in Hermione's family could fail to notice how different she was, how special she was, beyond peculiar. The Dursleys had always pegged him as a 'freak'… but then, they'd known his parents were magical.

Hermione nestled down further against his side, more comfortably against the tree trunk, and Harry decided there was little to be gained in thinking about it further. It had been decided they'd be going, and that was that.

A cool breeze skirted over the surface of the lake and stirred the leaves overhead. They fell into companionable silence, two lone teenagers at the water's edge.

The peace was shattered when suddenly Hermione gasped. Harry looked quickly at her. Hermione, a stunned look on her face, turned to the tree at their backs and pried a section of bark off with her fingers. She stared down at the scrap of bark in wonder, amazement, then looked up at Harry and beamed.

Harry smiled back at her.

Hermione tucked the piece of tree into her pocket and somehow the accomplishment, first attained on Hogwarts school grounds, left the solemn atmosphere of earlier far behind.

With a sudden thought, Harry jumped up. Hermione looked up after him, querulous at his sudden motion.

"I want to go down to the Quidditch pitch before we leave."

Hermione smiled in understanding. The one thing he couldn't do at the Grangers that he would have at the Weasleys, the one joy he thought he had surrendered for the summer, he could do now. Flight.

Hermione stood and walked with Harry down to the pitch. She took up a lone spectator role in the stands while Harry fetched a Cleansweep from the Quidditch locker room. When Harry kicked off and took to the air he was free. Free from worry, from Voldemort, from his life. There was only the wind in his hair and Hermione's distant, heartfelt calls of encouragement in his ears.

❾¾ ❾¾❾¾❾¾ ❾¾❾¾❾¾ ❾¾❾¾

Roberta Richardson had seen them coming down the road from the living room window. She was standing in her open front doorway when the car came to a stop in front of the house. She was already moving forward when the passenger-side door flung open and a young woman with wild brown hair leapt from the vehicle and ran across the yard with a huge grin on her face. "Gram!"

The two women, old and young, met in an embrace and Berti laughed merrily. "Hermione! Goodness, child, you've grown. Let me take a look at you." Berti pulled back and looked closely at her granddaughter. The teenager was radiant, so much less the child that Berti remembered, and flashing that beautiful smile of hers. Berti shook her head and chuckled. "I would never think just a year would make such a difference, but you're practically a grown woman!"

"It's so good to see you, Gram." Hermione buried herself in another hug from her grandmother. Where once her cheek had rested against Berti's stomach, now it burrowed in her bosom thanks to Hermione's added height. It was almost bittersweet to have a child's arms gone, replaced by a young adult's that wrapped around her.

"I missed you at Christmas; it wasn't the same without you telling us where to put all the decorations. Just imagine, garland and lights all out of place."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, I missed you too, Gram, but I… well, Harry had a special school project he was working on during term, and I stayed to help him."

Berti looked up at the young man with glasses and unruly black hair who approached at a more casual pace alongside Miranda. From the corner of her eye, Berti saw Hermione's ginger cat Crookshanks slip out of the open car door and trot off into the nearest pasture, no doubt to prowl for prey. She focused instead on the young man she'd yet to meet.

"So this must be Harry."

Hermione withdrew from her grandmother's arms and turned to face the boy, who had come to a stop a few paces from the reunited pair. A Chihuahua was faithfully at his side, watching the goings-on with notable interest.

"Gram, Harry, Harry, my grandmum Berti."

"Ma'am," Harry said politely, hesitantly, then plowed on, "I hope you don't mind me here. Hermione said…"

"Oh, nonsense and pish-posh. 'Course I don't mind you staying over. This house is far too empty with just me; I'll be glad for the company. Besides, Miranda made it seem Hermione would not have come without you." Berti glanced up at her daughter and smiled. Miranda chuckled. Harry blushed, looked down, and toed the ground with his shoe. Hermione grunted resolutely, "I wouldn't've."

"Ah, young love," Berti sighed theatrically.

"Gram!" This time Hermione blushed and it brought a tiny smirk to Harry's lips, though it didn't bring up his head.

Berti kissed Hermione on the cheek. "Oh, dear, don't be so tightly wound. I'm only teasing. I think. Come in, the lot of you. Miri, please, I insist you stay at least for tea before starting back. We can talk while these two get settled."

Miranda smiled. "I'm not about to turn down your tea, Mum, it sounds wonderful."

Hermione knew just where to go in her grandmother's house. As she and Harry carried in their single suitcase apiece, she was giving Harry the abridged family history of the Richardson side of the family with strange segues into a home tour. "I'll stay in my mum's old room, you'll be in Uncle Ben's room. His name's actually Benedick, but we all call him Ben. He has a wife and three kids, though I've never met the youngest of the three. He lives in the states, so we don't see him much. I haven't seen Uncle Ben since I was nine. Our rooms will be right next to each other, with a bathroom on the opposite side of the hall. The hot water facet's on backwards, always has been, so you'll have to turn the hot tap the other way 'round. Oh! I'll have to show you the cove! Well, it's not really a cove, but when I was little it was my favorite place to go on Tiggy, it's absolutely wonderful…" Harry followed after Hermione, compliant and quiet, and Hermione's voice trailed off as the pair disappeared into the bowels of the house.

Berti carried two mugs to the breakfast nook table and fetched a kettle of hot tea. As she poured a cup for herself and her daughter she said, "How is Jake?"

"He's well. He was going to bring the kids up with me, but at the last minute a boy came in who'd knocked out his front tooth. Closest we have to a dental emergency, you could say."

"That's too bad. Give him my regards when you get back home." Berti sat down opposite her daughter and took a slow drink of tea. Miranda, too, spared a moment to enjoy the lemon-flavored sweet tea.

"Hermione's grown so much since the last time I saw her. Seems only yesterday she was learning to crawl."

"And shortly thereafter learning to read," Miranda laughed then shook her head. "I'm constantly astounded by how much older she is." Her voice dropped a fraction. "Especially this year. Hard to believe she's not my little baby anymore."

"I thought the same thing about you and Ben all the time. Sometimes I still do." Berti wrapped her hands around her warm mug and smiled wistfully to herself. "I'm glad Hermione's come to stay for a bit. I missed her over Christmas holiday ever so much. I look forward to spending some time with her."

"Well, you better go on ahead and include Harry too, in that time you'll be spending."

"Really?" Berti said with a playful twinkle in her eye.

Miranda nodded and scooted her mug over the table top idly. "Those two have been absolutely inseparable."

"You don't say… is our Hermione in love?"

Miranda smiled slowly and maternally… and a little sadly. "I don't think she knows she is. You know Hermione, stubborn as a bull."

Berti chuckled. "She got that from her grandfather. And does this bloke Harry deserve her?"

Miranda sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. "Well, no one will ever be good enough for Hermione, you know that, but Harry's a great kid, well, a great young man I should say. I confess I'm a bit taken with him. Of course, not as taken as Hermione… if he's her choice, I'll not take exception. He'll do."

"High praise then. Well, then it's just as well he came along this visit; if this boy Harry means to join the family I best get to know him."

A groan escaped Miranda's lips. "Oh, Mum, please don't heckle them."

"Would I do that, dear?"

"Are you kidding? If I had a pound for every time you embarrassed me in front of Jake while we were dating I wouldn't need to work."

"A mere test of his sincerity, my sweet Miri. If a little kind-hearted teasing sends him running for the hills, well, doesn't bode well for the future of the relationship, does it?"

"I'd be cautious. If you manage to send Harry running Hermione's just as likely to run with him."

"Oh really?"

"Inseparable, Mother. You'll see.

"I know you wanted to have some quality time alone with Hermione, but I doubt you'll find any reason to begrudge Harry's company. He is a perfectly courteous, polite young man. A gentleman even at his age, if you can believe it. I'm not sure about boyfriend or even future husband, but as far as a friend… Hermione could not have done better than Harry."

"It starts there, doesn't it?"

Miranda seemed to deflate with weariness and resignation. "Be gentle, Mum, I'm just not ready to see Hermione as anyone's wife."

Berti smiled sagaciously. "Yes, I know how that is."

Miranda pushed back from the table. "Well, I best be off. What with the children gone Jake and I were going to go out to dinner, so I should start back now so I don't get home too late. Assuming he's finished with that poor boy who knocked out his incisor, of course. Oh, and you shouldn't have to worry about keeping Hermione and Harry occupied, they've been pretty well independent this whole summer, keeping themselves busy and out of the way, don't see any reason why that would be any different here. And if Harry tries to cook for you, fair warning, it's well near impossible to dissuade him from it."

"Cook?" Berti faltered at the seeming non sequitur.

Miranda nodded, shrugged, and smiled. "He can get pretty pugnacious about it. Trust me, I've tried to talk him out of it, but he just won't have it. Makes lunch for Hermione and me every day back home despite my urgings not to trouble himself. I'd suggest you just relent and enjoy it, because he's a wonderful cook. I think it makes him feel less of an imposition if he's able to return some manner of favor for his stay. Let me see, is there anything else?" Miranda thought to herself.

Berti laughed and stood to see her daughter to the door. "I think I can figure out anything that might pop up. I have done this before, you know. Best run along so you and Jake can have a nice, romantic dinner."

Miranda gave her mother a hug, kissed her on the cheek, then went to the front door. At the threshold she paused and looked toward the hallway, as if debated whether or not she should tell Hermione and Harry goodbye, then turned and left the kids in her mother's care.