Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Resuscitation of Agapé ❯ Experiencing Agapé ( Chapter 16 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: jessica_x 
...in which a recipe is finally revealed, and a story involving two sixth-year Gryffindors finally reaches its climax.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.09.2008 | Updated On: 08.09.2008 | Pages: 5 | Words: 5.1K | Visits: 325 | Status: Work In Progress
...in which a recipe is finally revealed, and a story involving two sixth-year Gryffindors finally reaches its climax.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.09.2008 | Updated On: 08.09.2008 | Pages: 5 | Words: 5.1K | Visits: 325 | Status: Work In Progress
Harry Potter and the Resuscitation of Agapé
Year 6 At Hogwarts
by Jessica X
************************************************************************ *****
WARNING LABEL: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS. INGREDIENTS OF PRODUCT NOT COPYRIGHTED BY AUTHOR, BUT THE RECIPE IS. RATED R FOR MILD VIOLENCE/LANGUAGE, AND MATURE THEMES: KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN. IF INGESTED, INDUCE VOMITING, SWALLOW YOUR TONGUE, ASSASSINATE AN ILLUMINATI, THEN GO SOAK YOUR HEAD.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Okay, so it's been a while. I really do apologize for taking... :checks: dear sweet JESUS, almost a month?! Right, so we've established that I suck. I'll try to be concise: I've found someone. That, of course, requires attention. I am so in love it burns! But that's not quite so important to you, so I'll skip the rest of my personal mush and get to the story. It's winding up, so don't blink!
************************************************************************ *****
~*~ Chapter Sixteen: Experiencing Agapé
Arcane And Obscure Elixirs and Draughts, p. 237
THE ELIXIR OF AGAPE
INGREDIENTS
1 forget-me-not seed
1/2 oz. white rice
1 ginger root
6 oz. Mandrake Restorative Draught
1 oz. ground flaxweed
1 chocolate-covered strawberry
1 oz. blood of the brewer (approx.)
7 dove feathers
2 oz. red wine (a fine vintage, if handy)
2 matching wedding bands
1 dragon heart
IMPLEMENTS
Wand
2 pewter cauldrons
Ladle
Mortar and Pestle
Cutting board, knife
Empty phial/beaker/bowl
DESCRIPTION
The Elixir of Agapé, also known as "The Mourning Lover's Elixir", has a similar effect to the Elixir of Life - that is to say, it will bring someone back from death's maw. This potion has been known to work on the undead, the petrified, the paralysed, the comatose, the fatally injured, the deathly ill, and the recently deceased (though it must be administered within a few hours of their demise). The ingredients listed above are not set in stone, but the ones listed here are all quite necessary (save perhaps the chocolate-covered strawberry). You may, of course, add anything else you feel may increase its potency, but exercise caution - the wrong ingredient may weaken or sabotage the mixture. One should also note that while the ingredients will most likely serve their purpose no matter the means one uses to obtain them, they will be far more effective if freshly gathered (particularly the dragon heart) and at great cost to the wizard or witch brewing it, due to the potion's nature. While this is quite a powerful elixir, it is but a potent catalyst for love, and without the presence of strong, unswerving affection and a true longing to revive the victim, you may as well be trying to fight off an Acromantula with a handful of pebbles.
DIRECTIONS
Chop your ginger root ahead of time, making quite sure to slice it thin. In a separate cauldron, burn the dove feathers, making sure you save the ashes in a phial or beaker of some sort. Then, place the dragon heart in your main cauldron; any amount of blood you may have from the same dragon can only help, so be sure to empty the jar of any. Open a fresh wound somewhere on your person and allow approximately one ounce of your blood to flow over the dragon heart. It is MOST IMPORTANT that this be your blood, and not anyone or anything else's. Following this, immediately pour the Mandrake Restorative Draught over the heart, then light a mid-level fire underneath the cauldron. Add the forget-me-not seed, the feather ashes, the flaxweed, the wine, and the ginger root at once, stirring with your wand. Using a wand with a unicorn tail-hair core is recommended - or possibly a unicorn horn in place of a wand (it is inadvisable to use unicorn blood, as obtaining it would reverse the elixir's polarity, and both yourself and the subject would become hollow shells of your former selves). As this simmers, grind the rice with mortar and pestle. After the solution has been heated for five minutes, add the powdered rice. Also add the chocolate-covered strawberry at this point, and be sure to remove the stem first. Allow to brew for one hour, stirring occasionally.
IMPORTANT NOTE: The wedding bands are not actually used in the brewing of the potion, but are most important when administering it. One must be on the right ringfinger of both the victim and the person applying the elixir; it strengthens the connection between them. You may want to take this time to slip these on, if you and the victim are not already wearing them.
After the solution has boiled for an hour, extinguish the fire and stir vigorously (if you've been stirring with a unicorn horn, it must be with a wand this time), then ladle an amount of the contents into a chalice. You must drink at least three ounces of this solution (six recommended), and pour an equal amount down the throat of the subject to be awakened. One more small sip must be administered orally, directly from your lips to the victim's. It doesn't hurt to hold their hand; this aides in the conductivity of the feelings required to empower this elixir. This mouth-to-mouth passing of fluids completes the process, and if you are successful, the subject should reawaken in under five minutes.
~*~
"Merlin," Ron said, after having read it for himself. He let the notebook fall to the table as he returned his attention to the room at large.
Harry's lips were moving without fruition. Luna was twirling her dirty-blonde hair anxiously. Ginny and Neville were tensed, breath baited for someone to react. Snape, whom had also been leering at this amusing scene, walked to the head of Hermione's would-be deathbed, folded his arms, and stood, waiting patiently for the show to truly begin.
"It's... it's too weird," Harry mumbled. "I, I can't, not in front of- in front of-"
"But you've got to!" Ginny suddenly hissed, grasping his shoulder firmly, her eyes shining. "I know it's strange, but... but we have to save Hermione!"
"If you won't do it, I will," Neville said bravely, though he was plainly scared out of his mind.
"No, I... I can do this." Harry took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Besides, I'm the only one that can do it now... my blood is in the potion. This is for Hermione... if I can't even do something this simple for her sake, then I should be hanged."
He tipped the chalice to his lips, quickly gauged how much elixir was inside, and drew deeply at the contents, draining it completely. It was a sickly sweet flavour, and while not entirely unpleasant, it still made him a bit nauseous. He then returned to the cauldron, refilled it, and went to Hermione's side.
"Time for your medicine," he whispered.
He lifted her stiffening head and poured the crimson contents down her throat, careful to make sure it all went down.
"And now, the grand finale," Snape muttered.
Harry determinedly slowed his heartbeat. He knew what was coming, and as much as he dallied as he returned to the cauldron, raised the ladle, and poured more elixir inside, it seemed all too soon he was standing over her again. He glanced at her right hand - the ring was still there. He could feel the other one on his own finger.
"Potter, may I remind you that you don't have an eternity-"
"I know," he hissed, wishing Snape would vaporize and leave him be. He swallowed hard as he looked down at her, and his heart was rent in two.
The cheeks of the girl before him were now paler than parchment. Her lips, the lips that had been trying to tell him something of the utmost importance, were still and unmoving, slightly wet from the elixir passing through them. Her eyes - those bewitching eyes that had been alight with knowledge and cleverness, with bravery, with fondness - were closed. Harry found it surreal that she were dead, and he would be breathing the life back into her, when really she looked like she were sleeping very soundly. He raised a hand and brushed aside a lock of her fluffy hair, stroking her icy cheek on the way back. It did not matter that they had sworn to be only friends, nor did it matter that she was more than a girl... for her condition didn't make her less of a woman - it made her even greater.
"Harry," Ron whispered, leaving it at that.
Harry knew what must be done, and suddenly realized that it didn't seem like such an obligation, but more of a sacred duty; he wanted to do this more than anything.
The goblet moved to his mouth, and he allowed a small amount to flow inside, rolling it on his tongue. He felt Ginny's shaking hands take it from him as he bent low over the bed, and slowly moved his head down toward her soft, delicate lips. His thumb moved to her chin, drawing her mouth open so very slightly. The other hand felt down along her arm and found hers, gripping it tightly, desperately. Giving himself wholly to his passion, anguish, joy, and sorrow, he took the piteous form in a frantic kiss.
Hot tears swelled and cascaded down his cheekbones. A part of him realized she would not kiss back, but most of him ached for her to suddenly revive and do so, to draw his body to hers and envelop his soul. But she did not, and yet he kept straining at her, his desperate tongue coaxing hers, unmoving and cold, the tingling of the nauseatingly sweet fluid they were sharing laughing callously at his efforts. He could feel happiness draining from every inch of his being, flowing through him and out. Finally, he could bear it no longer, and he flung himself away from her corpse and onto the floor, weeping uncontrollably.
He did not feel the hands on his shoulders. He did not feel the couch rise under him. He did not feel the hands moving over his arms, his knee, his shoulders. All he felt was deep, searing, biting agony - one that his scar could never hope to best if it tried for the rest of eternity. His hands went to his face, and found his glasses - he hurled them away, and did not hear them shatter, nor someone muttering "Reparo" and placing them nearby. He wanted to leave this place, he wanted to die. More than anything at that moment, he just wanted to die, and be forever removed from this unsurpassable misery.
And then, as if a direct argument against what he was feeling, Neville breathed, "Look!" as Ginny pushed his glasses back onto his nose.
Slowly, his head raised, and his gaze met the one and only thing that had a prayer of quelling the howling pain within him. Hermione, seated on the edge of her bed, was staring straight at him. Her cheeks were an elegant peach once again, almost as if made of porcelain. The mark on her forehead had vanished without a trace. Her eyes, twinkling in the low light, were back to their usual white and copper, and her pink lips were smiling.
"Boy, why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying," he choked, rubbing his eyes in vain. "I've got something in my eye."
"Your hand, for one," she said. He let out a blast of laughter, and she sniffed.
In perfect synchronization, they flew from their perches and met, arms wrapping around each other, tears coming as if their flow would never be stemmed, strangled voices barely managing to speak further, but valiantly persevering.
"Harry..."
"I- thank God, you... Hermione..."
As his eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, he saw Snape standing there, but to his astonishment, the former Slytherin did not look smug, nor bored or disgusted. He looked almost... triumphant. Even as Harry's gaze fell on him, a dark eye threatened a wink, he nodded slightly, then strode from the room, leaving them alone.
In fact, he seemed to have made this something of a cue, as Luna, Ron, Ginny, and Neville all left at that moment, each of them patting them both on the back as they passed, unable to find any words. Finally, the door clanked shut, and it was just the two of them. They drew back and looked into one another's eyes.
"Hi, honey," she said playfully.
"Hello, dear."
Neither of them seemed to know where to begin. So much had happened between them, and their emotions were stretched so thin they didn't know if they could handle anything else. At last, Harry found his voice.
"So, you were saying...?"
"W-what?"
"Before you... y'know... you were trying to tell me something."
"I..." He could feel her begin to quiver, and he held her as close as he could manage. Strain showed in her features. "I don't want to say it now, Harry, I don't- You've probably already figured it out, you're so clever and brilliant, but nevertheless, it... I don't want to break what you've just mended..."
"You won't."
"But Harry, what if-"
"Say it, please," he soothed urgently, his hand moving to her cheek.
Tears rolled down her cheeks - perfect, crystal tears, so welcome a sight after the dark ones she'd been forced to shed for so long - and she moved her face as close to his as possible, her eyes searching his for a reaction even before she spoke, barely summoning a whisper.
"I love you."
And there in a room that few could reach, there beyond the dangers and troubles and atrocities of the outside world, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger shared the moment that had so cruelly been denied them in the pantry at Thirteen Fifteen, Trebuchet Lane, and a thousand other instances before. At long last, they basked in true love's first kiss.
~*~
"I believe your exact words were, 'I'm not a bloody puff'?"
Harry and Hermione, hand in hand (this time, merely for their own benefit), were walking through the grass as the sun set behind the trees. She'd had enough of the "welcome back"s in the castle, and they had gone to visit a tearful Hagrid, whom had hugged her so tightly Harry feared she would need Skele-Gro. After listening to him blubber for nearly an hour into a handkerchief about how glad he was that she was alive, and how sorry he was that he couldn't prevent her death in the first place, they'd bid him goodnight and were in the midst of walking aimlessly.
"And I'm still not! You're trying to get me to touch my toes for you again, and I'm not going to fall into your clever trap."
An impatient "tuh!" issued from her mouth. "No, no, I wasn't talking about that specifically!"
"But were you thinking it?" he said with a wry grin.
"Er..."
"HA!"
Her face had moved beyond beet red. "You're the one that planted the image there in the first place," she mumbled.
An eyebrow raise. "Don't try to blame me for that! It's all Ron's doing, scheming with my subconscious like that!"
"Harry, look," she said, stopping to look at him directly. "This is exactly how I mean. Things like this are going to be working against us. I... I don't particularly need to do, er, THAT, and I would never ask you to against your wishes, but... even if we don't, there's still going to be similar awkward problems, because of... what I am."
"I know. I hear what you're saying, and... and you're right. It's... it's going to get a touch bizarre. But..."
As he looked at her, and earnestly tried to be sober about the conversation, he couldn't help smiling.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing's funny," he said, grinning even wider.
"Stop it!"
He raised a hand and stroked her cheek. "You're so cute when you're irritated."
She went even redder, if that was possible, as she glanced down at her shoes, failing to subdue the bashful smile. "I'm never going to get used to you saying things like that." Her eyes raised to his again, piercing. "But Harry, you're avoiding the issue here. Can you really, truly accept that part of me?"
"Yes."
A few blinks, due to the unexpected readiness of his answer. "Wh-what?"
"I said 'yes', silly." He was smiling so wide he could feel his cheeks beginning to ache, yet he couldn't stop. "You may be sharp as they come, but you should have your hearing checked."
"Do you... do you mean it? You don't care that I'm... intersexed?"
"Ah, but that's a different question, isn't it?" A sigh escaped his lips unbidden. "I'm not saying it won't be a bit strange at first, but that's not the important thing. What I really care about is having you... being with you, being yours. As far as I'm concerned, what's in your knickers is a detail."
"But... if you don't mind being with someone who's half-boy, wouldn't you be half-gay?"
He shrugged. "Guess so."
"You just said-"
"I know what I said." He sighed uneasily. "I just- It's not really so much that I hate man parts - I mean, I have one myself, don't I? It... I just don't want them near my bum. So you having one is fine by me. It's part of you, and as far as I'm concerned, you're perfect."
For a moment, he took her silence to mean she'd accepted this, but upon scrutinizing her features more carefully, he realized something was still bothering her. Her eyes were darting nervously, which usually meant she was trying to decide something particularly difficult.
"Out with it."
"Out with what?"
"Don't give me that nonsense. What is it?"
A very heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she looked - almost glaring - at him. If her cheeks weren't flushed and her voice wasn't quavering, he'd have mistaken it for an accusatory stare.
"Do you want me to have it?"
"...what?"
"They are doing amazing things with surgery these days, aren't they?" At this point she looked away. "So... if you wanted..."
"Do you want to have it?"
Startled, her head jerked up again, and her expression was puzzled.
"It does belong to YOU, Hermione. Doesn't seem fair for me to decide whether or not you keep a body part."
"I... it's always been something of a constant companion, really... debating its removal. I mean, life would be so much simpler if I were just another girl. But..."
"Yes?"
"Just as you've said, it's one of my extremities. I'm afraid that I wouldn't be the same person if I didn't have it... that I wouldn't be as unique."
Harry laughed quietly. "Like you need two sets of gonads to make you special. You've got plenty of other things to be proud of."
"Like?"
"Hmm..." His finger went to his chin dramatically.
"Stop being an ass."
"Well, you did scrape me, for one."
"Tuh!" A punch was thrown his way, which he purposefully allowed to hit him (as he knew he had more than earned it).
"That smarted a bit. You're strong." He rubbed it lightly. "Courageous. Brilliant. Passionate. Loyal... not to mention hotter than a dragon tonsil."
She turned away slightly to prevent him from seeing precisely how red her face had gone, as otiose a gesture as this was. "Oh, you do go on, don't you?"
"Yes, I do. You're sterling in my book, so if you decide against the surgery, I'm not going into fits over it. In fact, who knows, maybe I'll come to enjoy playing with your 'wand'...?"
This last sentence served exactly the purpose he'd meant it to; Hermione gasped involuntarily, then turned even further away from him, trying without success to hide her face while stifling fits of titters. If he were to be completely honest with himself, that thought made him nearly as nervy as it appeared to have done for his partner.
"So, in closing, the responsibility for you having one or not falls entirely in your la- er, no pun intended, there, sorry."
It seemed to Harry as if eons rolled by in near silence, the passage of time marked only by Hermione slowly pacing the lawn, before she at last spoke. "I think I would like to retain my 'manhood'... I mean, I'd probably miss it once it wasn't there, despite the rather extensive list of predicaments and grief it's caused me... I mean, it's a part of me; perhaps not my favourite part, but it's mine. We could always decide, someday down the road, that we want to do away with it, but for now... I suppose it stays."
"Good, then it's settled."
"I'll only keep it if you're absolutely sure it doesn't bother you...?"
A tut of frustration. "For the last time, it doesn't! In fact, I'm thinking of binning you and going out with just your wanger, it's so bleeding grand!"
"But-"
"I do hereby solemnly swear that I will continue to cherish and adore Hermione Granger, with or without the aforementioned appendage, and if she suddenly grows ten more, I'd still want to be with her."
Despite her best efforts, she was unable to suppress a snicker at his latest oath. "If I grew ten more, I'd be getting out the meat cleaver."
They both drew an involuntary intake of breath at that rather nasty thought, crossing their legs slightly, then laughed.
"Oh, Harry," she sighed contentedly. "You're so perfect. I never dreamed I'd meet someone who not only accepted me, but when given the choice, wanted me to stay just as I am."
He felt his face grow hot even as she briefly touched his cheek. "I guess there just aren't enough decent people out there. Different isn't a synonym for awful... in fact, variety is usually a good thing, isn't it?"
"How much I've been missing these past five years."
"How do you mean?" he muttered as his brow knitted.
"We were good friends, definitely... but before this year, there was still that slight barrier between us." She again glanced down at this. "And then I got that brief flash of ardour, and sent you the post... and, at long last, I told you... and from that moment forward, it was as if everything would always be fine. No matter all the trouble it caused, all the arguments and storms it seemed to stir up, it seemed like so much dust that could be brushed away by our new friendship... our love," she added meekly.
"I just can't believe you held it in for so long. I wish you'd have told me sooner..."
"So do I."
They lay back under the lengthening shade of a tree, hesitant-yet-steady hands fawning over each other's bodies and faces, breath coming faster than seemed possible, reveling in one another's touch. The memory of that evening in front of the fire rushed back to Harry as if from a past life, as he breathed in that feminine, bookish spoor of hers once more; he found he reveled in it. Hermione gasped when his touch passed briefly over her pubis, and he jumped when he felt what was most definitely there; their cheeks flushed deeply, and they began casting nervous glances around the grounds. To avoid getting too bothered, they eventually settled into a comfortable position, staring into each other's eyes and caressing their cheeks, content with the nearness of their wildly beating hearts.
"How I love thee, Harry."
"Ditto."
A snort of indignation. "I bear my heart, naming you as my inamorato, and I get back a 'ditto'?"
"It's a perfectly good response."
"Like hell it is."
And she fell on top of him, giggling through their joined lips as they held each other fondly, all cares and worries reduced to unimportant drivel in the wake of their affection.
~*~
"Good news, all!"
The Gryffindors ambling around the common room, enjoying all manner of food and drink, stopped and looked up, mildly interested. Ron was standing on a chair, arms sweeping wide, his dragon-hide chapeau barely clinging to his head.
"Ladies and gents, may I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. H-"
"Ron!" Hermione hissed, giggling.
"Okay, okay," he whispered back, still grinning. "Presenting the future bride and groom: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger! Er, not that Harry's the bride and Hermione's-"
"They get the picture," Harry muttered, his glasses threatening to melt from the heat of his face. If only Ron knew how close to home that last statement had hit...
"To the happy couple!" he shouted, raising his butterbeer. The other students echoed his sentiments, and they all drank deeply.
"So," he said more quietly as he jumped down, "have the two of you consummated your relationship yet?"
This earned him a punch in the arm from both of them.
"I think it's great," Neville said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "You guys are made for each other, you know. When's the wedding?"
"Tomorrow, of course," Hermione said, hands on hips. "I don't suppose we can produce a reverend overnight, but we'll make do, won't we?"
"Mum knows a minister," Ginny put in, grinning deviously. "Old friend of the family. Should I send an owl on?"
The party lasted long into the night, and somehow Luna turned up, presumably wandering through the portrait hole as someone else left - though Harry was not so sure she was there on accident. As carefree and high-spirited as he felt, he could've sworn he saw Ron lead her off somewhere, but he couldn't remember for certain.
At last, after everyone else had drifted off to their beds, the time came when they had to part company, and Hermione and Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs for what seemed like all too brief a moment.
"I want there to be no tomorrows," she whispered, "that this feeling could last an age."
"But think of what tomorrow may bring," he said, grinning. A fleeting kiss, a hushed goodbye, and they retired to their dormitories, positively glowing.
~*~
"Great little shindig," Ron yawned as he entered.
"Yeah," he said dreamily, flopping down on his bed, only to find an empty butterbeer bottle in the small of his back. As he sat back up to toss it in the wastepaper basket, he looked over at the neighbouring bed.
"Ron?"
"Huh?"
"How do you feel about all this?"
Another yawn. "'Bout what?"
"Me and Hermione. I mean, this kind of changes the Three Musketeers, doesn't it?"
"Eh, whatever. One of us were going to fall in love at some point... be kind of pitiful if it never happened, really. Inevitable. At least I know the pair of you are ending up with good people, so I don't have to worry about sorting out anything or anybody. Quite a load off, to be blunt. I'm happy for you two."
Harry grinned. "Is that because you're extremely empathetic, or because you've found some sweet Ravenclaw of your very own?"
A long pause. "I really don't know what you're on about."
~*~ To Be Concluded.........
Year 6 At Hogwarts
by Jessica X
************************************************************************ *****
WARNING LABEL: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS. INGREDIENTS OF PRODUCT NOT COPYRIGHTED BY AUTHOR, BUT THE RECIPE IS. RATED R FOR MILD VIOLENCE/LANGUAGE, AND MATURE THEMES: KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN. IF INGESTED, INDUCE VOMITING, SWALLOW YOUR TONGUE, ASSASSINATE AN ILLUMINATI, THEN GO SOAK YOUR HEAD.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Okay, so it's been a while. I really do apologize for taking... :checks: dear sweet JESUS, almost a month?! Right, so we've established that I suck. I'll try to be concise: I've found someone. That, of course, requires attention. I am so in love it burns! But that's not quite so important to you, so I'll skip the rest of my personal mush and get to the story. It's winding up, so don't blink!
************************************************************************ *****
~*~ Chapter Sixteen: Experiencing Agapé
Arcane And Obscure Elixirs and Draughts, p. 237
THE ELIXIR OF AGAPE
INGREDIENTS
1 forget-me-not seed
1/2 oz. white rice
1 ginger root
6 oz. Mandrake Restorative Draught
1 oz. ground flaxweed
1 chocolate-covered strawberry
1 oz. blood of the brewer (approx.)
7 dove feathers
2 oz. red wine (a fine vintage, if handy)
2 matching wedding bands
1 dragon heart
IMPLEMENTS
Wand
2 pewter cauldrons
Ladle
Mortar and Pestle
Cutting board, knife
Empty phial/beaker/bowl
DESCRIPTION
The Elixir of Agapé, also known as "The Mourning Lover's Elixir", has a similar effect to the Elixir of Life - that is to say, it will bring someone back from death's maw. This potion has been known to work on the undead, the petrified, the paralysed, the comatose, the fatally injured, the deathly ill, and the recently deceased (though it must be administered within a few hours of their demise). The ingredients listed above are not set in stone, but the ones listed here are all quite necessary (save perhaps the chocolate-covered strawberry). You may, of course, add anything else you feel may increase its potency, but exercise caution - the wrong ingredient may weaken or sabotage the mixture. One should also note that while the ingredients will most likely serve their purpose no matter the means one uses to obtain them, they will be far more effective if freshly gathered (particularly the dragon heart) and at great cost to the wizard or witch brewing it, due to the potion's nature. While this is quite a powerful elixir, it is but a potent catalyst for love, and without the presence of strong, unswerving affection and a true longing to revive the victim, you may as well be trying to fight off an Acromantula with a handful of pebbles.
DIRECTIONS
Chop your ginger root ahead of time, making quite sure to slice it thin. In a separate cauldron, burn the dove feathers, making sure you save the ashes in a phial or beaker of some sort. Then, place the dragon heart in your main cauldron; any amount of blood you may have from the same dragon can only help, so be sure to empty the jar of any. Open a fresh wound somewhere on your person and allow approximately one ounce of your blood to flow over the dragon heart. It is MOST IMPORTANT that this be your blood, and not anyone or anything else's. Following this, immediately pour the Mandrake Restorative Draught over the heart, then light a mid-level fire underneath the cauldron. Add the forget-me-not seed, the feather ashes, the flaxweed, the wine, and the ginger root at once, stirring with your wand. Using a wand with a unicorn tail-hair core is recommended - or possibly a unicorn horn in place of a wand (it is inadvisable to use unicorn blood, as obtaining it would reverse the elixir's polarity, and both yourself and the subject would become hollow shells of your former selves). As this simmers, grind the rice with mortar and pestle. After the solution has been heated for five minutes, add the powdered rice. Also add the chocolate-covered strawberry at this point, and be sure to remove the stem first. Allow to brew for one hour, stirring occasionally.
IMPORTANT NOTE: The wedding bands are not actually used in the brewing of the potion, but are most important when administering it. One must be on the right ringfinger of both the victim and the person applying the elixir; it strengthens the connection between them. You may want to take this time to slip these on, if you and the victim are not already wearing them.
After the solution has boiled for an hour, extinguish the fire and stir vigorously (if you've been stirring with a unicorn horn, it must be with a wand this time), then ladle an amount of the contents into a chalice. You must drink at least three ounces of this solution (six recommended), and pour an equal amount down the throat of the subject to be awakened. One more small sip must be administered orally, directly from your lips to the victim's. It doesn't hurt to hold their hand; this aides in the conductivity of the feelings required to empower this elixir. This mouth-to-mouth passing of fluids completes the process, and if you are successful, the subject should reawaken in under five minutes.
~*~
"Merlin," Ron said, after having read it for himself. He let the notebook fall to the table as he returned his attention to the room at large.
Harry's lips were moving without fruition. Luna was twirling her dirty-blonde hair anxiously. Ginny and Neville were tensed, breath baited for someone to react. Snape, whom had also been leering at this amusing scene, walked to the head of Hermione's would-be deathbed, folded his arms, and stood, waiting patiently for the show to truly begin.
"It's... it's too weird," Harry mumbled. "I, I can't, not in front of- in front of-"
"But you've got to!" Ginny suddenly hissed, grasping his shoulder firmly, her eyes shining. "I know it's strange, but... but we have to save Hermione!"
"If you won't do it, I will," Neville said bravely, though he was plainly scared out of his mind.
"No, I... I can do this." Harry took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Besides, I'm the only one that can do it now... my blood is in the potion. This is for Hermione... if I can't even do something this simple for her sake, then I should be hanged."
He tipped the chalice to his lips, quickly gauged how much elixir was inside, and drew deeply at the contents, draining it completely. It was a sickly sweet flavour, and while not entirely unpleasant, it still made him a bit nauseous. He then returned to the cauldron, refilled it, and went to Hermione's side.
"Time for your medicine," he whispered.
He lifted her stiffening head and poured the crimson contents down her throat, careful to make sure it all went down.
"And now, the grand finale," Snape muttered.
Harry determinedly slowed his heartbeat. He knew what was coming, and as much as he dallied as he returned to the cauldron, raised the ladle, and poured more elixir inside, it seemed all too soon he was standing over her again. He glanced at her right hand - the ring was still there. He could feel the other one on his own finger.
"Potter, may I remind you that you don't have an eternity-"
"I know," he hissed, wishing Snape would vaporize and leave him be. He swallowed hard as he looked down at her, and his heart was rent in two.
The cheeks of the girl before him were now paler than parchment. Her lips, the lips that had been trying to tell him something of the utmost importance, were still and unmoving, slightly wet from the elixir passing through them. Her eyes - those bewitching eyes that had been alight with knowledge and cleverness, with bravery, with fondness - were closed. Harry found it surreal that she were dead, and he would be breathing the life back into her, when really she looked like she were sleeping very soundly. He raised a hand and brushed aside a lock of her fluffy hair, stroking her icy cheek on the way back. It did not matter that they had sworn to be only friends, nor did it matter that she was more than a girl... for her condition didn't make her less of a woman - it made her even greater.
"Harry," Ron whispered, leaving it at that.
Harry knew what must be done, and suddenly realized that it didn't seem like such an obligation, but more of a sacred duty; he wanted to do this more than anything.
The goblet moved to his mouth, and he allowed a small amount to flow inside, rolling it on his tongue. He felt Ginny's shaking hands take it from him as he bent low over the bed, and slowly moved his head down toward her soft, delicate lips. His thumb moved to her chin, drawing her mouth open so very slightly. The other hand felt down along her arm and found hers, gripping it tightly, desperately. Giving himself wholly to his passion, anguish, joy, and sorrow, he took the piteous form in a frantic kiss.
Hot tears swelled and cascaded down his cheekbones. A part of him realized she would not kiss back, but most of him ached for her to suddenly revive and do so, to draw his body to hers and envelop his soul. But she did not, and yet he kept straining at her, his desperate tongue coaxing hers, unmoving and cold, the tingling of the nauseatingly sweet fluid they were sharing laughing callously at his efforts. He could feel happiness draining from every inch of his being, flowing through him and out. Finally, he could bear it no longer, and he flung himself away from her corpse and onto the floor, weeping uncontrollably.
He did not feel the hands on his shoulders. He did not feel the couch rise under him. He did not feel the hands moving over his arms, his knee, his shoulders. All he felt was deep, searing, biting agony - one that his scar could never hope to best if it tried for the rest of eternity. His hands went to his face, and found his glasses - he hurled them away, and did not hear them shatter, nor someone muttering "Reparo" and placing them nearby. He wanted to leave this place, he wanted to die. More than anything at that moment, he just wanted to die, and be forever removed from this unsurpassable misery.
And then, as if a direct argument against what he was feeling, Neville breathed, "Look!" as Ginny pushed his glasses back onto his nose.
Slowly, his head raised, and his gaze met the one and only thing that had a prayer of quelling the howling pain within him. Hermione, seated on the edge of her bed, was staring straight at him. Her cheeks were an elegant peach once again, almost as if made of porcelain. The mark on her forehead had vanished without a trace. Her eyes, twinkling in the low light, were back to their usual white and copper, and her pink lips were smiling.
"Boy, why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying," he choked, rubbing his eyes in vain. "I've got something in my eye."
"Your hand, for one," she said. He let out a blast of laughter, and she sniffed.
In perfect synchronization, they flew from their perches and met, arms wrapping around each other, tears coming as if their flow would never be stemmed, strangled voices barely managing to speak further, but valiantly persevering.
"Harry..."
"I- thank God, you... Hermione..."
As his eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, he saw Snape standing there, but to his astonishment, the former Slytherin did not look smug, nor bored or disgusted. He looked almost... triumphant. Even as Harry's gaze fell on him, a dark eye threatened a wink, he nodded slightly, then strode from the room, leaving them alone.
In fact, he seemed to have made this something of a cue, as Luna, Ron, Ginny, and Neville all left at that moment, each of them patting them both on the back as they passed, unable to find any words. Finally, the door clanked shut, and it was just the two of them. They drew back and looked into one another's eyes.
"Hi, honey," she said playfully.
"Hello, dear."
Neither of them seemed to know where to begin. So much had happened between them, and their emotions were stretched so thin they didn't know if they could handle anything else. At last, Harry found his voice.
"So, you were saying...?"
"W-what?"
"Before you... y'know... you were trying to tell me something."
"I..." He could feel her begin to quiver, and he held her as close as he could manage. Strain showed in her features. "I don't want to say it now, Harry, I don't- You've probably already figured it out, you're so clever and brilliant, but nevertheless, it... I don't want to break what you've just mended..."
"You won't."
"But Harry, what if-"
"Say it, please," he soothed urgently, his hand moving to her cheek.
Tears rolled down her cheeks - perfect, crystal tears, so welcome a sight after the dark ones she'd been forced to shed for so long - and she moved her face as close to his as possible, her eyes searching his for a reaction even before she spoke, barely summoning a whisper.
"I love you."
And there in a room that few could reach, there beyond the dangers and troubles and atrocities of the outside world, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger shared the moment that had so cruelly been denied them in the pantry at Thirteen Fifteen, Trebuchet Lane, and a thousand other instances before. At long last, they basked in true love's first kiss.
~*~
"I believe your exact words were, 'I'm not a bloody puff'?"
Harry and Hermione, hand in hand (this time, merely for their own benefit), were walking through the grass as the sun set behind the trees. She'd had enough of the "welcome back"s in the castle, and they had gone to visit a tearful Hagrid, whom had hugged her so tightly Harry feared she would need Skele-Gro. After listening to him blubber for nearly an hour into a handkerchief about how glad he was that she was alive, and how sorry he was that he couldn't prevent her death in the first place, they'd bid him goodnight and were in the midst of walking aimlessly.
"And I'm still not! You're trying to get me to touch my toes for you again, and I'm not going to fall into your clever trap."
An impatient "tuh!" issued from her mouth. "No, no, I wasn't talking about that specifically!"
"But were you thinking it?" he said with a wry grin.
"Er..."
"HA!"
Her face had moved beyond beet red. "You're the one that planted the image there in the first place," she mumbled.
An eyebrow raise. "Don't try to blame me for that! It's all Ron's doing, scheming with my subconscious like that!"
"Harry, look," she said, stopping to look at him directly. "This is exactly how I mean. Things like this are going to be working against us. I... I don't particularly need to do, er, THAT, and I would never ask you to against your wishes, but... even if we don't, there's still going to be similar awkward problems, because of... what I am."
"I know. I hear what you're saying, and... and you're right. It's... it's going to get a touch bizarre. But..."
As he looked at her, and earnestly tried to be sober about the conversation, he couldn't help smiling.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing's funny," he said, grinning even wider.
"Stop it!"
He raised a hand and stroked her cheek. "You're so cute when you're irritated."
She went even redder, if that was possible, as she glanced down at her shoes, failing to subdue the bashful smile. "I'm never going to get used to you saying things like that." Her eyes raised to his again, piercing. "But Harry, you're avoiding the issue here. Can you really, truly accept that part of me?"
"Yes."
A few blinks, due to the unexpected readiness of his answer. "Wh-what?"
"I said 'yes', silly." He was smiling so wide he could feel his cheeks beginning to ache, yet he couldn't stop. "You may be sharp as they come, but you should have your hearing checked."
"Do you... do you mean it? You don't care that I'm... intersexed?"
"Ah, but that's a different question, isn't it?" A sigh escaped his lips unbidden. "I'm not saying it won't be a bit strange at first, but that's not the important thing. What I really care about is having you... being with you, being yours. As far as I'm concerned, what's in your knickers is a detail."
"But... if you don't mind being with someone who's half-boy, wouldn't you be half-gay?"
He shrugged. "Guess so."
"You just said-"
"I know what I said." He sighed uneasily. "I just- It's not really so much that I hate man parts - I mean, I have one myself, don't I? It... I just don't want them near my bum. So you having one is fine by me. It's part of you, and as far as I'm concerned, you're perfect."
For a moment, he took her silence to mean she'd accepted this, but upon scrutinizing her features more carefully, he realized something was still bothering her. Her eyes were darting nervously, which usually meant she was trying to decide something particularly difficult.
"Out with it."
"Out with what?"
"Don't give me that nonsense. What is it?"
A very heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she looked - almost glaring - at him. If her cheeks weren't flushed and her voice wasn't quavering, he'd have mistaken it for an accusatory stare.
"Do you want me to have it?"
"...what?"
"They are doing amazing things with surgery these days, aren't they?" At this point she looked away. "So... if you wanted..."
"Do you want to have it?"
Startled, her head jerked up again, and her expression was puzzled.
"It does belong to YOU, Hermione. Doesn't seem fair for me to decide whether or not you keep a body part."
"I... it's always been something of a constant companion, really... debating its removal. I mean, life would be so much simpler if I were just another girl. But..."
"Yes?"
"Just as you've said, it's one of my extremities. I'm afraid that I wouldn't be the same person if I didn't have it... that I wouldn't be as unique."
Harry laughed quietly. "Like you need two sets of gonads to make you special. You've got plenty of other things to be proud of."
"Like?"
"Hmm..." His finger went to his chin dramatically.
"Stop being an ass."
"Well, you did scrape me, for one."
"Tuh!" A punch was thrown his way, which he purposefully allowed to hit him (as he knew he had more than earned it).
"That smarted a bit. You're strong." He rubbed it lightly. "Courageous. Brilliant. Passionate. Loyal... not to mention hotter than a dragon tonsil."
She turned away slightly to prevent him from seeing precisely how red her face had gone, as otiose a gesture as this was. "Oh, you do go on, don't you?"
"Yes, I do. You're sterling in my book, so if you decide against the surgery, I'm not going into fits over it. In fact, who knows, maybe I'll come to enjoy playing with your 'wand'...?"
This last sentence served exactly the purpose he'd meant it to; Hermione gasped involuntarily, then turned even further away from him, trying without success to hide her face while stifling fits of titters. If he were to be completely honest with himself, that thought made him nearly as nervy as it appeared to have done for his partner.
"So, in closing, the responsibility for you having one or not falls entirely in your la- er, no pun intended, there, sorry."
It seemed to Harry as if eons rolled by in near silence, the passage of time marked only by Hermione slowly pacing the lawn, before she at last spoke. "I think I would like to retain my 'manhood'... I mean, I'd probably miss it once it wasn't there, despite the rather extensive list of predicaments and grief it's caused me... I mean, it's a part of me; perhaps not my favourite part, but it's mine. We could always decide, someday down the road, that we want to do away with it, but for now... I suppose it stays."
"Good, then it's settled."
"I'll only keep it if you're absolutely sure it doesn't bother you...?"
A tut of frustration. "For the last time, it doesn't! In fact, I'm thinking of binning you and going out with just your wanger, it's so bleeding grand!"
"But-"
"I do hereby solemnly swear that I will continue to cherish and adore Hermione Granger, with or without the aforementioned appendage, and if she suddenly grows ten more, I'd still want to be with her."
Despite her best efforts, she was unable to suppress a snicker at his latest oath. "If I grew ten more, I'd be getting out the meat cleaver."
They both drew an involuntary intake of breath at that rather nasty thought, crossing their legs slightly, then laughed.
"Oh, Harry," she sighed contentedly. "You're so perfect. I never dreamed I'd meet someone who not only accepted me, but when given the choice, wanted me to stay just as I am."
He felt his face grow hot even as she briefly touched his cheek. "I guess there just aren't enough decent people out there. Different isn't a synonym for awful... in fact, variety is usually a good thing, isn't it?"
"How much I've been missing these past five years."
"How do you mean?" he muttered as his brow knitted.
"We were good friends, definitely... but before this year, there was still that slight barrier between us." She again glanced down at this. "And then I got that brief flash of ardour, and sent you the post... and, at long last, I told you... and from that moment forward, it was as if everything would always be fine. No matter all the trouble it caused, all the arguments and storms it seemed to stir up, it seemed like so much dust that could be brushed away by our new friendship... our love," she added meekly.
"I just can't believe you held it in for so long. I wish you'd have told me sooner..."
"So do I."
They lay back under the lengthening shade of a tree, hesitant-yet-steady hands fawning over each other's bodies and faces, breath coming faster than seemed possible, reveling in one another's touch. The memory of that evening in front of the fire rushed back to Harry as if from a past life, as he breathed in that feminine, bookish spoor of hers once more; he found he reveled in it. Hermione gasped when his touch passed briefly over her pubis, and he jumped when he felt what was most definitely there; their cheeks flushed deeply, and they began casting nervous glances around the grounds. To avoid getting too bothered, they eventually settled into a comfortable position, staring into each other's eyes and caressing their cheeks, content with the nearness of their wildly beating hearts.
"How I love thee, Harry."
"Ditto."
A snort of indignation. "I bear my heart, naming you as my inamorato, and I get back a 'ditto'?"
"It's a perfectly good response."
"Like hell it is."
And she fell on top of him, giggling through their joined lips as they held each other fondly, all cares and worries reduced to unimportant drivel in the wake of their affection.
~*~
"Good news, all!"
The Gryffindors ambling around the common room, enjoying all manner of food and drink, stopped and looked up, mildly interested. Ron was standing on a chair, arms sweeping wide, his dragon-hide chapeau barely clinging to his head.
"Ladies and gents, may I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. H-"
"Ron!" Hermione hissed, giggling.
"Okay, okay," he whispered back, still grinning. "Presenting the future bride and groom: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger! Er, not that Harry's the bride and Hermione's-"
"They get the picture," Harry muttered, his glasses threatening to melt from the heat of his face. If only Ron knew how close to home that last statement had hit...
"To the happy couple!" he shouted, raising his butterbeer. The other students echoed his sentiments, and they all drank deeply.
"So," he said more quietly as he jumped down, "have the two of you consummated your relationship yet?"
This earned him a punch in the arm from both of them.
"I think it's great," Neville said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "You guys are made for each other, you know. When's the wedding?"
"Tomorrow, of course," Hermione said, hands on hips. "I don't suppose we can produce a reverend overnight, but we'll make do, won't we?"
"Mum knows a minister," Ginny put in, grinning deviously. "Old friend of the family. Should I send an owl on?"
The party lasted long into the night, and somehow Luna turned up, presumably wandering through the portrait hole as someone else left - though Harry was not so sure she was there on accident. As carefree and high-spirited as he felt, he could've sworn he saw Ron lead her off somewhere, but he couldn't remember for certain.
At last, after everyone else had drifted off to their beds, the time came when they had to part company, and Hermione and Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs for what seemed like all too brief a moment.
"I want there to be no tomorrows," she whispered, "that this feeling could last an age."
"But think of what tomorrow may bring," he said, grinning. A fleeting kiss, a hushed goodbye, and they retired to their dormitories, positively glowing.
~*~
"Great little shindig," Ron yawned as he entered.
"Yeah," he said dreamily, flopping down on his bed, only to find an empty butterbeer bottle in the small of his back. As he sat back up to toss it in the wastepaper basket, he looked over at the neighbouring bed.
"Ron?"
"Huh?"
"How do you feel about all this?"
Another yawn. "'Bout what?"
"Me and Hermione. I mean, this kind of changes the Three Musketeers, doesn't it?"
"Eh, whatever. One of us were going to fall in love at some point... be kind of pitiful if it never happened, really. Inevitable. At least I know the pair of you are ending up with good people, so I don't have to worry about sorting out anything or anybody. Quite a load off, to be blunt. I'm happy for you two."
Harry grinned. "Is that because you're extremely empathetic, or because you've found some sweet Ravenclaw of your very own?"
A long pause. "I really don't know what you're on about."
~*~ To Be Concluded.........