Shadow Walks |h.p/h.g|

ch. 15

Harry caught between his teeth a ragged breath that no one would ever hear. It had been so long, so long since he had seen her as anything other than an eighteen-year-old girl in a photograph or in Ron's memory that he was mesmerized by the sight of her. She was standing in the doorway, just behind Harry's elbow, one hand on the jamb, framed by light.

He moved closer without even really realizing that he was doing so, almost floating across the yard like a man entranced, his eyes fixed on her face.

"... like the Mediterranean agreed with you both," Lily observed softly. Hermione looked radiant, as she smiled. Harry was stricken by how grown up she looked, her hair and skin sun-kissed, her expression, which hadn't modified to anything less than joyful, since the door had opened.

"It was lovely, absolutely lovely," she murmured, looking not at Harry's parents, but at the man himself. So casually that they didn't even seem to be aware of it, the couple had twined their fingers together. Harry turned his head to gaze at the profile of the woman whose hand was in his, and nodded in agreement, a half-smile turning up one corner of his mouth.

"Somehow, I don't think either of them is talking about the scenery," James said, ostensibly sotto voce, to Lily.

"James, what did I tell you?" Lily asked, under her breath as she nudged her husband in the side.

Harry raked them over with a fond, almost humoring, glance, and turned from the front door, his hand still ensnared with Hermione's.

"C'mon in," he said. "Dobby has drinks waiting. I think Hermione negotiated him down to just the one task."

"Dobby?" Lily asked in amazement.

"Harry hired him," Hermione put in. "Though I'm not sure what he'll do around here, since this place is so small."

"You know you could always - " Harry's mother put in hopefully.

"Mum, the Manor is lovely, but - but this was the first home I ever knew. We love it here. And Hermione's worked so hard fixing it all up - "

"And don't you forget it either!" Hermione said playfully, nudging him in the side. Harry appeared to be on the verge of some kind of rejoinder, but it was cut off, as a voice called from outside,

"Oy, Potter!"

Their observer, Harry, had come through the front wall of the cottage, and he turned around with a start at the sound of the familiar voice, though again, it had been some time since he had heard Ron speak with that amount of buoyance.

He watched Harry's face take on a look of sheer delight, as he rushed to the door and opened it.

"What's your problem, Weasley?" he hollered out at the yard, as a gaggle of people made their way into the front gate.

"Your sodding ward popped us in across town, that's what!" Ron returned. "Need I remind you that some of us have had a very exhausting day of Quidditch practice run by a manager who's a bloody sadist! We don't need to hike all the way over here just because you're afraid of your little girly fans!"

People spilled into the room, and Harry recognized the four youngest Weasleys, their ginger hair glowing in the firelight, as well as a handful of people he didn't know.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Harry raised both hands toward Ron in a gesture of surrender, as he laughed. "I'll key you into the wards right away. Although," he smiled possessively, as he wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, "for everyone's well-being, I do suggest that you Floo first."

There was a resounding chorus of groans, the loudest of which seemed to be coming from one girl in particular, whom Harry did not recognize. She was petite, and her hair was a dark, shimmering auburn.