Forever Knight [Harmione]

Chapter 13: Exchange

Harry felt someone nudge him with an elbow and he looked questioningly at Hermione. 

She was, unfortunately, back in her clothes, but he supposed he preferred that she had her clothes on while they sat in the tiny manor hall occupying three of the many seats surrounding a great table.  She still looked good, anyway, even if there were still eerie traces of regeneration evident on her face and hands. 

The t-shirt she chose for the occasion was a big hit, meaning many of the members kept their distance, which was fine, because if those members weren’t afraid, they’d likely be more blatantly unkind to her, as opposed to shooting her daggered looks. 

Whatever whispering they had planned to do had been forestalled by Hermione’s earlier warning of, “I can hear you.”

To the Order’s credit, quite a few approached her amicably, telling her that they had been saddened by the news of her death and that they were sorry about what happened to her parents.  Harry could tell Hermione was trying to be as gentle with them as possible, so as not to frighten them.

The number of meeting attendees was not as many as Harry first thought.  Harry had at least expected that all of the Weasley brothers would be there, especially Charlie, but it appeared they were out on their own missions.  Harry didn’t need to hear the details.  Most of those they befriended in the last two days were aurors and healers; escorts to the more key members of the Order.  There were few of them in the hall now, two of which Harry remembered as part of his advanced guard during the summer of his fifth year.   

Mad-Eye Moody, whom Harry had seen hobbling about the manor and was now seated with them at the table, still hadn’t spoken to him. He was probably still angry at Harry for kicking him off Hermione’s interrogation.  That was regrettable, but Hermione’s welfare was still more important to him that Mad-Eye’s opinion of him. 

The meeting was just about to begin, the long table filled from end to end.  Harry sat between Ron and Hermione and she was now shooting him a mildly reproachful look.

“What?” he whispered.

“Stop grinning!” she whispered back. 

Harry was mildly surprised by this.  “I’m grinning?” 

“Like a fool,” Ron interjected from the other side.  “What are you so happy about, anyway?”

Had the best shag ever just about half an hour ago, you see.  It’s the sort of thing that puts a bloke in a good mood.  He didn’t say it out loud, though, even if he was dying to.  Hermione was blushing and glaring at him by turns, so he supposed she didn’t exactly feel like broadcasting what they had done in the dungeon. 

“Happy?  Me?” said Harry.  “At a time like this?”

Ron nodded.  “I concur.  There isn’t any food!  Not even tea!  And we call ourselves Englishmen…”

“Oh, hush, Ron!” hissed Hermione.  “Act dignified!  And Harry, do keep that grin in check.  It’s charming, yes, but you don’t want to charm anyone right now.  You want them to think that the Chosen One means business!”

“Ugh!” said Harry.  “Just when I thought that nickname was a bad dream, you remind me it’s real.  How could you?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, unaffectedly taking his arm and hugging it.  “It’ll come up in this meeting, I promise you.  Look at them staring at you, wondering what the Chosen One’s doing with the Vampire Bitch.”

“Stop calling yourself that.  Honestly, Hermione…”

Just then Draco was brought into the hall, escorted by Tonks.