Hello everyone! This is the second installment to my trilogy that I don't have an official title for at the moment. This is the sequel to "The Potter Vs. Granger Rivalry." I delivered, as promised! I said two weeks, and I got it out in one! Actually, I wrote the entire thing last night—was up until 5:30 this morning, haha. Well, I hope you all enjoy this. It's actually a longer chapter than I was planning. Also, you may or may not notice that I didn't go into every detail about everything…I just glazed over some stuff, just so it wouldn't drag on!

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except Cliffinshire

Enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE: Breaking the Habit

Harry took a long drag, and inhaled the terrible taste he had yet to grow accustom to—a disgusting assault of tobacco and poison. The taste and smell were offensive to his senses. The knowledge of their poison offensive to his brain. The pseudo-facts that the stick between his fingers relieves stress well understood.

So why was he being so stupid? What made him, on a whim, ask for a pack of these while purchasing a soda two days ago?

Harry flipped his phone open and checked the main screen. No missed calls. No missed messages.

Nothing.

He flipped the phone shut and took a deeper drag.

He'd been home from Hogwarts for a week now. He had made sure Hermione had her own cell phone the day they came back into the Muggle world. He wanted to be able to contact her at all times, and she him. Hermione had been busy this last week with her family, and her communication hadn't exactly been instantaneous. Harry understood, and he wasn't expecting her to be, but would it kill her to just shoot him a text to let him know everything is fine on her end?

Since the attack on her a few weeks ago, Harry had been completely on edge. While Hermione insisted that she was okay, Harry still felt shaken and knew she did too. But Hermione was strong—stronger than him. She pushed through. She put the attack behind her to focus on her N.E.W.T.S. She disclosed everything to Dumbledore—went through every detail she could remember of the terrors she had been bewitched with. All fabrications. All fucked up fabrications.

With one single truth.

The Dark Lord had returned.

Harry leaned against the column on the porch and inhaled again, the fiery tip of his cigarette glowing brighter with his drag in the darkness. The air was humid and sticky. Beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. He wished for even a whisper of a breeze in the night air, but his hopes were unanswered as his mind rewound the last few weeks.

Dumbledore looked at the small group gathered in his office with grave eyes. His solemn demeanor did nothing to ease the apprehension in the air. Harry knew—or had an educated guess—that the somber man was about to confirm his fears.

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. McGonagall. Flitwick. Sirius. Hermione. Kingsley Shacklebolt from the Ministry. Alastor Moody, well-known Auror. A few others that Harry either didn't know or only knew by appearance. A small group gathered in his study. Harry noticed the obvious absence of Professor Snape. "I have gathered you all here to disclose terrible news. It has been confirmed that…Lord Voldemort has returned." His voice was soft, tired. The man looked as if he had aged twenty years.

Harry let out a cough as he choked on the smoke somewhere between his lungs and throat.

Everyone in the room let out a gasp in unison.

"Headmaster—how can you be sure?"

"What news is this?"

"You-Know-Who?!"

"What do you mean, 'returned?'"

Questions started all at once, but the Headmaster held up a hand to silence them. "It has been confirmed—a trusted spy has seen him with his own eyes. It doesn't matter how we know of this, what we need to discuss, is our response. I move to reestablish the Order of the Phoenix. We are going to need to be united. He has already called upon his loyal band of followers he had broken out of Azkaban yesterday. We must act quickly." Dumbledore urged them, his eyes a fierce blue Harry had never seen before.

"You do know your mother will kill you if she sees that in your hand, Potter?" A voice spoke behind Harry, clear disapproval in his godfather's voice.

In response, Harry took another hit.

"Would you care to enlighten me why you are killing your lungs?" The older man asked, coming up to stand beside his godson.

Harry didn't look over at the man he had known his whole life. Instead, he flipped his phone open again to see if he had missed any alert—anything at all.

Sirius understood the movement too well. Harry had his phone out every five minutes, checking and double checking. "She's safe." He reassured Harry in a gentle voice.

"I know." Harry replied. "I just wish she would tell me every so often. She has me so stressed out I can't think straight." He admitted, staring out at the dark yard before him.

He was at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place in London—Sirius's other home. It was currently being used as Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix—an organized group founded by Dumbledore during the first war against Voldemort that actively moved against the Dark Lord. Upon his revival, the Order had been reconstituted at once. Four floors and uplottable, as well as enchanted with many charms including a Fidelius Charm by Dumbledore himself, it was ideal for Headquarters. Dumbledore had to tell a person the exact location of the property for them to even be able to see it. For the Order, it was a safe house.

Members of the Order came and went at all hours of the day. Meetings and exchanges of information were ongoing. If Harry hadn't been so worried about his girlfriend, he would have perhaps enjoyed being kept in the loop.

Instead, he didn't sit in at every meeting. He preferred to hide in the shadows. His story—the truth of Voldemort's first fall—had been circulating around the Wizarding world as of late. First, to the members of the Order that were in the dark, then to the Minister of Magic in a "confidential" conversation with the Dumbledore that had somehow gotten leaked. Harry felt like eyes followed him everywhere he went, gawking. The scrutiny of their looks made him uncomfortable, and the only reason he hung around was to make sure he didn't miss anything that might involve Hermione.

Sirius sighed, as if he could see the wheels turning in Harry's head by the brooding expression on his face. "She is being watched. She asked for two weeks, Harry. Two weeks to reconnect with her family." Sirius reminded him. "Your mother hates me, you do realize that, don't you?" Sirius added matter-of-factly. "She blames me for your plans. I don't blame her. I think it's a bad idea."

Harry shrugged. "It's not. It's actually a pretty good one."

"When I said I thought it would be a nice vacation to stay at my beach house for a few weeks, I meant it would have been a good idea if these dangers weren't present." Sirius told him for the tenth time.

"I'm not going to let him run my life, Sirius. I'm not going to just stop living. I need a break—I don't think that's asking too much. Just a few weeks." Harry argued. "Besides…it was your idea. You can't back out of it now. And no one needs to worry, I'll keep her safe." Harry reminded him.

Sirius gave a sad smile. "I don't think it's her your mother is too worried about."

Harry didn't reply for a moment before saying slowly, "And I'll keep myself safe too."

"It's easy for you to say that, when you don't—no you can't—comprehend the true dangers that lie ahead. You weren't around during the first war. You have no idea how dangerous he is, or how powerful. You are no match against him, or his Death Eaters. Learning in school is one thing…you know your way around Defense Against the Dark Arts, I'll give you that. But actually defending yourself in a real-life situation…no class can prepare you for that." Sirius warned, hoping to sway Harry's decision.

Harry nodded his understanding. "I know. And I can see where you are coming from—as well as Mum and Dad. But I'm an adult. I'm not going to let some Dark Lord run my decisions, and I'm done letting my parents run them too. I've been a good boy for eighteen years now. I've played by everyone's rules. I've never stepped out of line—except with minor stuff at Hogwarts that was never exactly forbidden. Overall, I'd say I've lived by their wishes. Now I want to start integrating some of my own decisions in, you know? Isn't that part of growing up?" He asked, telling Sirius the words that have been weighing on his mind. He wasn't independent—he knew that. He appreciated what his parents have done and still do for him. At the same time, he needed to grow up a little, and his parents needed to trust him.

Harry smashed the tip of his cigarette against the iron rail in front of him before flicking it in the yard. He had his wand out and the small butt vanished before it even touched the ground.

"Vanishing cigarette butts in the dark…now you're ready to face Voldemort himself." Sirius said cynically.

Harry turned to face his godfather with a grin and clapped his hand on his shoulders. "I'm not a kid. I wish you guys would have a little more faith in me. We'll be safe. The last thing I want to do is put her in a situation where she can get hurt. If I think it's too dangerous, we'll come back here, and you guys can bubble wrap us in boxes and stow us in the cellar for safety." Harry promised.

Sirius rolled his eyes at his godson's cheeky remark. "You also know you better not get her pregnant. Then your mother will be after your head, and Voldemort will look like a canary against the sort of anger your mother can bring."

Harry grinned. "No one is getting pregnant. It's not like that. We aren't even having sex." Harry reassured him.

Sirius nodded mockingly. "Yes, I'm sure. That doesn't mean you won't. Trust me, I was your age once. I know what goes on in your head. I'm not going to give you the talk about how you need to not have sex and blah blah blah. Lily and James can have that one. I'm just going to say…be safe. Be smart. And be ready. And most importantly—make sure she is. Don't be a regret."

Harry listened to Sirius words, a little embarrassment tainting his cool demeanor. He gave a mischievous smile, but said nothing to Sirius's knowing grin.

"So are you going to tell me why you are trying to kill yourself?" He asked as Harry pulled out another cigarette.

"I'm not trying to kill myself. I've got my quit date set. I hate these. They're disgusting. I just need something to calm my nerves. Sunday night, I'll be smoke-free and you can toss them in the rubbish bin yourself." Harry said with a shrug.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "You think it will be that easy to quit? And you do know they don't really relieve stress, right?"

Harry took a long drag. "I know. I've built my own little illusion, but so far, I've been relatively calm. Believe it or not, I'm not addicted. Maybe too much repulsion. Maybe it's because I hear Hermione telling me off every time I take a hit. Who knows?" Harry asked vaguely.

"And what do you tell this Hermione in your mind?"

Harry laughed. "I tell her to piss off and answer her phone more often, then maybe she wouldn't drive me to such extremes."

Sirius chuckled, but didn't say another word about Harry's new habit. That's something Harry always loved about his godfather. His mum was his mum, his dad was his dad, and that left Sirius to be a mixture between a father-figure and a friend—the best kind of confidant. He knew he could tell Sirius anything, and if he didn't want his parents to know about it, then his parents wouldn't know about it. And Sirius has never tried bossing him around and telling him what to do. He offered sound advice, he was never shy about his opinion, and used warnings to guide Harry, not command him. He let Harry make his own mistakes because he understood that no one else gave Harry that privilege.

"Did I miss anything?" Harry asked, his eyes glancing back towards the door leading into the house. He could hear laughter coming from kitchen.

Sirius shook his head. "Nothing really. Routine check-ins. He's flying under the radar, and the Minister is still being a dumbass about it all. Never met a more flighty wizard in my life. Can't make up his mind to support Dumbledore or go against him." Sirius said with a scoff. "Had no problem running his mouth about you though, did he?"

Harry shrugged. The Minister wasn't in his good books by any means. He unconsciously checked his phone again. As he was about to shove it in his pocket, Sirius reached over and took it from him. "Oh bloody hell, Potter, stop being a pansy." He pushed the SEND button once, saw that Hermione was his last call, and pressed it again. He lifted the phone to his ear and took a step back as he drew his wand against Harry, who had just pulled out his own. "Hermione? Hello, dear, how are you this evening?" He paused and waited for a reply. "That's sounds fascinating. I just wanted to call you because my dear godson has been going a little mad, glaring offensively at his phone and such, awaiting a reply from you. So if you could be so kind as to take a few minutes out to reassure him that you are just fine, I would appreciate that…ah…yes, I see." He covered the speaker with his hand and whispered to Harry, "She was helping at her parents' office all day, then got whisked away to Grandma's birthday party. Hasn't had a lot of time." He returned to Hermione, "Yes, I'm sure he understands, but his new habit is having some trouble comprehending…yeah, that would be great. Here he is." He offered Harry the phone and ignored his murderous look.

Harry tossed his cigarette and once again cast a Vanishing Charm before bring the phone to his ear. "Hey, sorry about that—some idiot hi-jacked my phone, as you can tell." Harry said with a laugh, still glaring at Sirius's back as the man made his way back inside. "Habit? I dunno what he's talking about…probably my obsession with checking my phone. I…I just get worried, you know, especially with hearing what's going on during the meetings. Sunday can't get here fast enough." Harry confessed, stepping off the porch and out into the darkness of the yard.

"I'm sorry. I've been neglecting my phone, I know. Things have been hectic and all." Hermione admitted guiltily on the other line. Harry smiled, just happy to hear her voice and know that she was safe.

"No, you're fine. Don't be sorry. It's not your fault…okay, well it is a little bit, but it shouldn't be. It's my issues." Harry clarified with a laugh.

"I'll try to be more attentive." Hermione promised. "How are things there?"

"Boring. Not a lot happening on the Voldemort front, which is both good and bad. And more people show up here every day, so the word is getting out, and some people believe it." Harry responded, coming to a halt at the wrought iron fence at the edge of the property. He reached up and lazily snaked one hand around one of the thin pickets of the fence.

"Well, that's good news. Your parents still giving you crap?" Hermione asked, already knowing the answer.

Harry nodded to himself. "It doesn't matter. It's not a big deal. We're going to be gone for a few weeks. Don't feel guilty about this!" Harry warned, already knowing Hermione's misgivings.

He could almost hear her smile. "I know, I know. It'll be fun—and we could use some of that."

"Exactly." Harry replied, as his brooding mood had all but vanished by now, along with his cigarette butts. "I can't wait to see you."

"Me too. And I've got a good birthday present for you!" Hermione revealed mischievously.

Harry smiled. "I can't wait."

There was silence on the line for a few beats.

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" She asked, referring to his interview with Healer Robinson, the director of the program he was trying to get into.

"Yeah, though I'm still wondering if the whole thing is pointless. I mean…going to training doesn't seem important anymore with recent events and looking at the big picture." Harry dared to say, feeling out her reaction.

"Don't think like that. It is important. What have you been saying these last few months? You 'aren't going to stop living your life' over him? Well, here's a major life change that he isn't going to affect, right?" Her voice was business-like, as if she was telling Harry that two and two made four. Her argument just was.

"I know, I know. I guess nerves are just getting me to." Harry admitted.

"Well, don't let them. Remind him that you will make a positive force on their team. Let him know you are excited for training, and will be working as hard as you can to get your Healer license. Make yourself indispensible to him." Hermione advised slowly, making sure Harry got every word.

"Got it. Indispensible. He needs me. The future of St. Mungos rests on my shoulders, as if there aren't enough burdens there already." Harry said with equal parts of humor and resentment.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to add pressure." Hermione replied softly.

Harry waved the bitterness off. "No, you're fine. How was your grandmother's birthday?" He asked, taking the attention off him.

Sweaty palms. Nauseous stomach. Head pounding. Harry sat in the emerald pouf chair outside the director's office, awaiting his interview. When he had gotten word back that he would be granted an interview for both the Auror program and Healer program he applied for, Harry had been slightly surprised. He figured he'd be lucky to get one, so two was a pipe dream. But here he was, sitting outside for his second interview.

His interview the day before had gone well, he thought. Healer Robinson had been a friend of his mother's, and Harry had met him a few times. She had taken his training class herself. Harry had been nervous, but it had been nothing compared to now.

He had to remind himself that it was Friday. A few more days, and he'd be gone—on vacation, away from everyone but his friends. No more weird looks. No more hearing about Voldemort. No more glares from his mother. Nothing but the beach, his girlfriend, and his best mates.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Robards will see you now." A middle-aged brunette with russet eyes behind a pair of black, square spectacles said, standing up from her desk.

Harry hastily got to his feet and almost tripped over the leg of his chair. She escorted him through a set of double doors and down a corridor until she reached a large, wooden door. She gave two fast taps with her knuckles, and the door opened. "I have Mr. Harry Potter for you, sir." She greeted her boss, pushing the door open to allow Harry entrance.

A man in his thirties stood behind his massive mahogany desk and took Harry's outstretched hand. "Mr. Potter, good to meet you. Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chair facing him. Harry sat down, body rigid. "Let's see here…ah, yes. You've just graduated. N.E.W.T.S. results are still not in, but they should be along shortly." He muttered under his breath, his eyes quickly going through Harry's file. "What made you want to pursue this career?" He asked, looking up at Harry.

Harry cleared his throat. His words to his Transfiguration professor came back to mind. "It's a dangerous and rigorous career path, I'm well aware. The training is harsh and extensive—only the best make it. I know that I can make it. I want to fight and protect the ones I love, as well as others." Harry spoke slowly, his voice taking on a deeper sound than usual. "Not only to I have a passion for the field, I feel that it is my duty, if I know I'm one of the ones that can make it, to do so." Harry said, confident but not cocky.

The man nodded. "I can understand that. The field is very rigorous, as you said." He scanned Harry's application. "I see you rate your overall physical fitness level at an eight. Speed and agility a seven. Dueling abilities…nine. That's rather confident." He remarked, almost incredulously.

"I stand by my marks, sir." Harry said. "I've learned a lot during my education, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I played Seeker for the House Quidditch team for seven years—my speed and reflexes are top notch, though I am eager to take on the challenge for improvement. I like to test myself. You can see my course schedule. You can see my marks. My O.W.L.S. I'm not saying I was top of my class, but I was pretty close, despite my work load. My mother instilled a very disciplined drive in me to strive for me to be the best that I can be." Harry replied with a smile. He neglected to mention that his mother would have probably cut him up and fed him to Hedwig if he had done any less.

"Taking on candidates right out of Hogwarts is rather uncommon, despite the amount of applicants we receive. There is an initial program that begins in September, two weeks of training. Only a handful go on to the actual three year training program after that course. During those two weeks, applicants will undergo several tests—stealth, aptitude, character, physical fitness, and of course, spell-work. It takes place at a camp. You may ask why we only give applicants two weeks. This is a very busy department. We don't have time or resources to train you to be ready to go into training. No, you train yourself to be ready, and in those two short weeks, show us that deserve a spot." He said, his voice severe. "Like I said, only a handful go from training camp into the actual training program. Then, only a few from the program actually become Aurors.

"Don't undergo the task lightly. Before I can make an informed decision, I will need your N.E.W.T.S. I've sent out for a copy of them already. Once I receive them, I will contact you again. If you have the marks, you have the spot in the camp. Do you have any questions?" He asked, speaking fast.

Harry was taken by surprise. Was he in? This interview hadn't even lasted ten minutes, and he had barely asked Harry anything. "Er…no, no questions, sir." Harry answered quickly.

The man stood and stretched his hand out again, and Harry jumped up and shook the man's hand. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Potter. I will contact you by the first week of August. If your marks are good enough—and judging from your past marks, I don't see why they wouldn't be—then I will see you in September." Gawain Robards said, walking Harry to the door. Noticing Harry's expression, he asked, "Something wrong, son?'

Harry quickly shook his head. "No sir. This just went by a lot faster than I thought." Harry laughed.

Robards nodded. "This is more of a formality meeting, to make sure the applicants know where they are getting into. No, the real interview in the training in camp. However, I would just like to say that first year applicants don't make it in generally, so if you believe you have the skills, don't be discouraged. It is July, and training begins in September. There isn't much time to train in between there to prepare, but there is a year before next year's camp. If I were you, that's what I would shoot for." The man said, being blunt and honest about the reality of the situation.

Harry nodded his understanding. "I'll keep that in mind sir, but if it's all the same to you, I'll just go ahead and pass it the first time around."

Robards let out a bark of laughter. "You've got spark, kid. I like that. But it's going to take a lot more than sheer cockiness to get into the program. I'll see you in September, and we'll just have to see how much you walk the walk."

Harry grinned. "I'm not one to disappoint, Mr. Robards. I'll see you in September." With that, Harry walked down the corridor and back out to the small lobby where Robards' secretary sat. He bid her farewell and saw himself out. The challenge set before him only enlarged his ego. He would be able to do this. He suddenly felt the urge to start training right this second.

He went to the Apparation point located in the Ministry and Disapparated to his home just outside Godric's Hollow. He jogged into his house and went to the kitchen. He gulped down some juice straight from the container before rushing up to his bedroom. He donned on shorts and a t-shirt, his iPod, and ear buds before racing down the stairs and jogging down the road.

The next two days passed by quickly for Harry. He started his training immediately. He changed his diet—not completely, but definitely did some tweaking so he ate a lot more raw fruits and veggies, as well as upped his protein intake. He ran in the morning and followed that with a workout. He practiced spells in the afternoon, as well as organizing mock tests that would test his speed, agility, and reflexes. Finally, in the evening he ran again and put in another full workout.

By Sunday afternoon, he had four workout sessions in, and was feeling the pain of it all. His body ached and he could hardly move. As he laid slumped on the couch, he felt completely exhausted.

"Hello son." His father greeted him cheerfully. "What are you doing?" He asked, noting his son's state.

"Mentally debating whether or not it's worth my energy to get up and get the remote, or if I should just suffer this terrible television show for another hour." Harry said, staring longingly at the remote some four feet away. If he stretched, he could almost grab it.

His father picked the remote up and chucked it into the chair on the other side of the room. Harry groan in response. "Why did you do that?" He whined.

His father chuckled as Lily came into the room, "Why did you do what for?" She asked, taking in her son's crumpled state. "Harry, you are overtaxing yourself. This is getting ridiculous." She reprimanded, going over to check his face for any sign of a fever or anything else she could fuss over.

"He's fine, Lils. A little training never hurt anyone." His father said, gesturing towards his son.

"This is extreme training!" Lily replied. "This isn't healthy, honey." She said, still fussing over Harry's body.

Harry groaned again and, against his better judgment, stood up. "I've got to pack anyway." He said, walking in the direction of his room.

"Harry…won't you at least reconsider this whole thing?" Lily asked softly, getting to her feet. "What if she just…came here? Or Headquarters?" She offered.

Harry smiled and turned around. "Mum, I'll be fine, I promise. I'll be safe. And it's not just seeing her, it's everything. Just…getting away for awhile would be nice." Harry argued, his tone gentle. He didn't want another fight about this.

"You were just away from us for ten months!" She responded.

Harry went over and gave her a hug. "I know, I know. But this is my last little chance at this sort of thing before training starts and all of this with Voldemort…can I please just have a few weeks, Mum? I'll check in every day if it makes you happy, twice even." Harry gave his mother the puppy dog face and pouted his lip out.

She had never had a problem before with him going and spending a few weeks at Sirius's house. He knew she didn't like the idea because of all this Voldemort business. He also knew she hated the idea because Hermione would be with him.

She hugged him back, despite how sweaty he was. "She better not get pregnant." His mother said, her tone severe.

Harry laughed as he pulled and started back towards the stairs. "Why is everyone obsessed with Hermione getting pregnant!?" He called behind him.

Harry pulled up to Hermione's block. He had Apparated about twenty minutes outside London, and from there, drove his car. He took one last drag on his cigarette, before waving his wand and causing it to vanish. His last one. With another wave of his wand, the awful smell of his dirty little secret vanished. Nasty habit kicked, all traces gone with it.

He could feel his heartbeat start to pick up as he continued to drive down the street until he was right outside Hermione's house. A grin plastered on his face, Harry quickly hopped out of his car and bounced up the sidewalk.

Hermione answered the door, a smile on her face. She looked beautiful. Harry couldn't believe it had only been two week since he had last seen her. She pulled him into a quick hug before dragging him inside.

"Harry's here!" Hermione called. "I hope you're hungry." She said with a grin.

Harry smiled and replied, "Yeah, and something smells delicious. Your mother must have cooked." He said with a smirk.

Hermione swatted his arm before they made their way into the kitchen.

Harry had dinner with Hermione and her family. He felt better than he had in the last two weeks. Not wanting to offend Hermione's mother, Harry tossed his diet plans out the window for the evening and indulged himself.

"Hermione tells us you have family over near Kent, is that right?" Hermione's father asked, looking over at Harry.

Harry swallowed his bite of potatoes before nodding. "My godfather, actually. He lives in Cliffinshire, down on the sea. Beautiful landscapes. Gray waters and high, mighty cliffs. It really is amazing." Harry replied easily.

"Be sure to take lots of pictures, Hermione!" Hermione's mother said with a smile.

Hermione nodded.

"I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you guys will be seeing in Greece here in a few months, but it's still a nice little getaway spot." Harry continued, referring to the trip Hermione and her parents would be going on in September, which had been planned during the same weeks as Harry's training camp.

They four of them continued to chat about Greece and Cliffinshire, as well as the plans Harry and Hermione had during the next few weeks.

Once dinner was over, Harry and Hermione made quick work of cleaning up and packing Hermione's things into the car. Night had fallen as Harry closed the trunk of his car, everything ready to go. "Let's just go say good-bye." Hermione said, turning back to the house.

"What's that?" Harry asked, pointing to the shadows between two hedges. Hermione walked over to take a look before she found herself being pushed into the shadows. "Oh, it's a beautiful girl." Harry whispered in her ear, his hands catching her wrists and bringing them up to encircle his neck. Without preamble, Harry's lips found hers in the dark. His hands flew to her hips and slowly made their way up her sides and around her back until they were engulfed in her hair. Hermione responded to his passion with heat of her own, pulling his lips harder against hers. Harry pressed her body against the side of the house, causing Hermione to giggle.

"We need to get back inside!" She said through muffled kisses. Her hands found their way to his chest and moved to push him away but Harry just laced his fingers with hers and halted her movements. Hermione continued to squirm playfully untilr Harry finally pulled away.

He rested his forehead against her and tried to regain control over his breathing. "Wow. Merlin, I've missed that." He admitted with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled him along, back towards the front door. After finally bidding her parents farewell, Hermione and Harry were on the road.

Their drive was about an hour from London in the direction of the coast. Time flew by as conversation kept up. Harry told her more about his training, and she took his mother's side in his extreme routine. Harry told her she wouldn't mind once he had a six pack and rock hard abs. Hermione rolled her eyes and replied with a witty but honest comment that she doubted she'd ever see that one.

Once they arrived in Cliffinshire, it was late—later than Harry had planned. He drove the familiar roads until he came upon Sirius's house. He pulled in the drive and went through all the enchantments and wards Sirius had on the house—which doubled once Harry had decided to take this little vacation.

Harry grabbed the bags and led Hermione inside the house. He ran his hand along the wall to find the lights. He dropped the bags, led Hermione to the kitchen, and grabbed some juice from the refrigerator.

"Welcome to the house of Black." Harry said, gesturing to the space surrounding them. He gave her a quick tour of the kitchen and living room, the backyard through the windows, the bathroom, and pointed out Sirius's room and the guest bedroom.

He grabbed their bags from the living room and finally made his own personal bedroom in the house. He flicked the lights on in there and unceremoniously dropped their bags at the foot of his bed. "A few drawers are already empty for you and plenty of closet space. We already got everything ready a week ago. Um, I can take your toothbrush and all that stuff and put it in the bathroom. Make yourself comfortable." Harry said as he quickly unpacked their bathroom things and put them away. He double check and made sure all the wards and enchantments were in place, going through all the doors and windows. He looked outside into the darkness, but saw nothing. Feeling completely happy and excited about the prospect of their small vacation, Harry whistled as he made his way back to his bedroom.

In his absence, Hermione had unpacked both of their things and had everything put away, and was pulling her pajamas out.

"What took you so long?" She asked, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow.

Harry flipped the television on grabbed disc one of the first season of Friends that Hermione had brought. "Just double checking all the wards and everything. I have to make sure we're safe, right?" He popped in the DVD player and cut the lights. He was just hopping in bed when he remembered he promised he'd check in. "Oh, that reminds me…" He grabbed his phone and called the house phone. He told his parents they had made it there safely and he double checked all the wards.

Finally, Harry rolled back over so he was on his back, phone put away. Hermione was sitting in bed beside him, smiling happily. She leaned down and hugged her body close to his, snuggling against his chest. "I've missed you so much." She said, hugging him tighter.

Harry rested his chin on top of her head. "Me too. You have no idea how worried I've been." Harry told her.

Hermione reached over and grabbed the remote to the television. "I think we can go one night without watching this." She said, promptly turning the power off and leaving them in darkness except for the silver of the moonlight shining in the window.

She tossed the remote over the side of the bed and lean back down towards him. Her hand tangled itself in his hair as she brought her lips to his. Harry responded immediately, reaching over to her knee and hiking her capri-clad leg up to his hip. Hermione rolled on her back, pulling him with her so he was now hovering above her. He pulled away from her kiss, on his knees between her thighs. In one swift movement, he pulled his shirt up and over his head and tossed it somewhere behind him. He was surprised when he saw Hermione follow suit. Before he could say anything, she pulled him back down in another heated kiss.

Feeling Hermione's naked skin against him was driving Harry mad. She was so soft and smooth. He allowed his hands to journey from her hips up to cup her breasts then higher, memorizing every inch he could find. He moved his mouth to her neck, then to her bared chest. His hands, itching to explore new territory, slipped under the thin strap of her cotton bra and slowly, ready to stop at any moment, eased it from her shoulder. He kissed across her collarbone and down her shoulder. His conversation with Sirius just a few days before floating vaguely in his mind, though honestly he didn't have much blood left in his head to think too clearly at the moment.

He continued to trail his kisses down her arm to her fingertips before switching over to her stomach. He had no idea what he was doing, but judging from the soft moans coming from Hermione, it must have felt good to her. He rained kisses all over her stomach and made his way back up her body, over the swell of her breasts and along the line of her bra. He could feel the goosebumps on her body along his tongue, and it gave him a sense of satisfaction that he could do this to her. Daringly, he maneuvered his tongue to gently inch beneath her bra until he felt her hardened nipple in his mouth.

He had to stop them, and he had to stop them now. Somewhere in the back of his brain, a voice was whispering for him to stop. He was getting too worked up. Despite Hermione's body movements at the moment, he knew she wasn't ready for where he wanted to take this at the moment. Hell, he wasn't even completely sure he was ready—though he had the feeling it wouldn't take much for him to be.

As if Hermione could read his thoughts, she pulled his head up so his tongue was no longing exploring under her bra. She pulled him into a slow kiss, silently telling him they really needed to stop before they got carried away. She finally pushed him off her so his face was hovering inches about hers.

Looking into her eyes in that soul-baring moment, Harry felt the words he'd never been able to say, though he had speculated their truth many times for hours.

"I…I love you."

Well, what did everyone think of the first chapter here?! I hope you all enjoyed it. I know not a lot happened, but that's how a lot of this story is going to be—more a primer for the next one, just setting stuff up. Like I said, please review and let me know what you thought! My new goal is a new chapter out every two weeks or less, so make sure I have plenty of motivation!

Thanks for reading!

*~Archie~*