Noah smirked when he saw Harry come into the flat he and Hermione shared. The smirk was because, despite being about six months shy of twenty-five years old, Harry still wasn't overly proficient at hiding his feelings. He clearly hadn't been expecting Noah to be here.
For his part. He and Hermione had been out running together for almost two hours today. He'd gone home to shower and change for their evening while she came here. He'd rarely before used his puma form for fun so it was a new experience. To have someone to have that fun with was more than just satisfactory.
"Harry," he said with a polite nod.
"Noah," the other wizard replied.
"I take it she asked you to show up tonight, too?"
"She did," Harry said.
The she in question was in her bedroom. He had no idea what they were doing, other than she'd told him to prepare for a casual evening out. Harry apparently received the same instructions, judging by his attire anyway. Of course, he had clothes to change into here where Noah did not.
"No idea either then?" Noah asked.
"None."
From what he ascertained over the past month or so since regaining his … memories. Harry spent the week at Grimmauld Place and most weekends here. It sounded as if it was … want not need … that he was on the lease with her. Noah wagered both liked it. Hermione could claim she had a roommate, which was always preferable to a woman, in particular, indicating she lived alone. (No, he wasn't being a misogynist jerk. Fact of the matter was, someone overhearing that she had a male roommate would likely pass her over for a female who had no such things to interfere with whatever criminal behavior they had in mind.) Harry had a place to escape to when the wizarding world got to be too much. He didn't get the impression Hermione spent a great deal of time at Grimmauld Place, or in the wizarding world as a whole.
Reading through some of the Daily Prophet articles, Ginevra Weasley had not gone quietly after breaking up with Harry. (And hadn't done herself any favors in the process.) She'd been a rising star as a professional quidditch player, but her attitude toward The Boy Who Lived seemed to have decreased her value, if not her worth. Judging by the Daily Prophet articles anyway, which he knew to take with a grain of salt. It likely didn't help that Viktor Krum and Harry were friends, and Viktor was more famous than Miss Weasley. Recent articles painted her as still working, but not getting the headlines she might otherwise get if she hadn't spent her free time disparaging Harry and Hermione for a while post-war.
He'd wondered more than once how Minerva felt about these developments, but to this point hadn't asked either Harry or Hermione. Nor had he sought out his replacement at Hogwarts when he abandoned his headmaster's position to get her opinion.
He had stopped by to see his parents, his childhood home. A home he knew now that he hadn't grown up in. He'd gone, expecting to feel differently.
Nothing.
Betrayed.
Alone.
He didn't.
Yes, he knew that he hadn't really grown up there. That Thurman and Ellen Davies hadn't really raised him. However, as he sat on his childhood bed, he felt … fondness here. The memories he had been given. That the Davies' had been given. They were good memories.
Solid.
For someone who had virtually no positive childhood memories originally, it was a very welcome change of pace.
He hadn't fit in much better than he had originally, but he had a smattering of friends throughout his life so he wasn't completely alone. He had parents who, according to his memories, could afford to ensure he looked presentable despite his hair having a mind of its own and him growing awkwardly until he was seventeen or eighteen. They'd never raised an unkind hand or word toward him.
They were good people. He had no idea why they had been selected for him. He'd likely never know, but he could appreciate that whoever had chosen.
Well, they chose well.
He'd gone there that night, intent on telling them the truth. More than merely his wand on his person to offer up as proof to the tale he told.
And yet, he couldn't do it.
They had been good parents.
What was more, they clearly wanted to be parents, and as he had no siblings he was their only chance of being that.
If he told them the truth, he would take that away from them. He couldn't do that. He, even knowing the memories were false, felt affection for them. Wanted to protect them as they'd protected him. (Of course they hadn't, but that was neither here nor there.)
He set the teddy bear that, knowing what he knew now, obviously wasn't as old and worn as it was supposed to be. How did his parents not notice? He set it back in its place in the corner of his bed against the wall, keeping watch over his room. A room that yes, changed from the memories he had of it as a boy, but it was still very much a room his parents kept made up for him. He spent the night once in a while. Holidays. Or if his parents were away together, he usually slept there so it didn't appear empty.
His mother was suspicious of Hermione, which made him chuckle. It likely would have made him chuckle, regardless of whose memories he had. He had no memories of conversations with his mother about why he hadn't found a woman to settle down with yet.
He did have memories of one or two of those conversations with his father. So, it wasn't surprising to him that his mother was the one prone to think Hermione was out to fleece him. Nevermind his parents were in the late half of their sixties and physically fine. So, someone would have to marry him for the next thirty years or so. As, clearly, as a university professor, he didn't have a great deal of money. Thirty years seems like a bit of a long-term commitment in the hope of getting an inheritance.
Nevermind, if funds was all that she was after.
Well, she'd go for this wizard.
The witch in question came out of her room just then, saving the two of them from making uncomfortable small talk.
"Oh, good, you're on time, Harry," she said, regarding her friend as she moved to him. Harry watched, no doubt both amused and a little perplexed when Hermione kissed him. "And thank you for not leaving when he arrived."
He shrugged. "That would be rude," he said.
She smirked, kissing the edge of his mouth. "I'm not sure that would stop you."
"We have proven we can get along. Have we not?"
"You have," she said.
"I'm not going to be able to stay long," Harry said.
"Why?"
"I have to go in tomorrow."
"On Saturday? Again? They've been calling you in on weekends recently."
Evidently, this was a surprise.
"Yeah." He sounded … evasive, even Noah picked up on that.
"All right. Well, a movie and dinner won't be too late, will it?"
"No."
"Excellent."
*****
Hermione found it oddly comforting to sit in the movie theater between Noah and Harry. Noah's hand settled over hers, but he wasn't smothering. Periodically, she would move her hand from under his, or he would lift his hand away, but they always seemed to creep back together again.
Like cats, kind of. Just wanting assurance that the other, their mate, was there.
She'd be shocked at how touchy he was, except his puma was affectionate. Caring. His cat, Flux, seemed simultaneously perplexed at the big cat interlopers in his household and happy to have friends. Hermione had, in fact, brought Crookshanks with her a couple of times. The first time hadn't gone well, but it hadn't been a disaster. By the third time, Flux seemed accepting.
The three were the last to leave the theater. Harry walked a ways down the sidewalk after he and Noah said goodbye.
"It's very considerate of him to give us privacy," Noah quipped with a low chuckle. "I'm not sure what he thinks I'm going to do to you on the street."
"Mm," she said, moving to her tiptoes so she could kiss him. "He just knows you would prefer not to be watched," she murmured when she drew away.
"There is a solution to that."
"Oh?"
"Come home with me."
She sighed softly, rubbing her cheek against his jaw before kissing him there.
"Not yet. You're still…"
"I know," he said with a low huff. Her argument was a sound one. He knew that. He knew it wasn't a lack of attraction. He was still … acclimating to all that he knew. And what to do. Whom to tell what to. Which world to be a part of. "You are coming by tomorrow?"
"I am."
"Excellent. Flux will be happy to see you whenever you get there."
"Flux will, huh?"
"Yes." It was his turn to murmur, kissing the top of her head.
"Okay, I'll see you then."
"Are you sure you don't want me to see you home?"
"Mm, don't trust Harry?"
He scoffed. "You know that I do."
She smiled against his jaw. "I do."
"All right. Sleep well. Pleasant dreams."
"Same to you," she said.
"Well, I do have something positive to offset the negative ones for the first time in my life."
"I'm glad."
"As am I."
She knew she was blushing. His kiss against her ear accompanying a low chuckle told her he noticed it, too.
"Dress for the elements," he murmured. He had promised to portkey somewhere with mountains and snow tomorrow so they could both let their pumas experience that climate. Neither had wanted to stop today, but knew they had to.
"Sure."
"Good night, Hermione."
"Good night, Noah. Thank you for letting me include Harry."
He glanced at Harry and she heard him sigh softly. She didn't know what it meant, but she didn't think it was because the three of them went to a movie and dinner together.
"I should be thanking the two of you for including me, and he is your best friend. I understand."
He got a look in his eyes that she didn't recognize. Not in this man anyway. It was odd because there was a difference in him from before and after his memories returned.
Understandable.
Yet, she found he really wasn't all that different. He was just a little less prickly, and a lot more socially capable, than Severus Snape.
At least what she knew about the man.
"What?" she asked.
"I was just wondering if there's anyone I have to introduce you to."
"Do you?"
"Other than my parents more officially, no, not really. So, in that, little was truly changed, it seems. Doesn't it?"
"Noah," she whispered.
"No, it's fine. I'm not complaining. In fact, it's probably better that I don't have to lie to someone so thoroughly that I consider my best friend."
"Mm," she said. "Are you sure? If you want to come home…"
"I'd love to come home with you, but not for what you're suggesting." She shook her head at that, unable to get mad because she was, in fact, not inviting him back to her flat for sex. "I'm fine. I'm an adult."
"All right. If you're sure…"
"I'm sure."
"Okay," she said, reaching up to kiss him again. "I'll see you tomorrow. Dressed for the elements."
"And we won't be pressed for time?"
She scrunched her nose a bit. "No."
"You have nothing planned with Harry?"
"Oh, no. He said he has to work tomorrow."
"Oh, right. Any idea what that's about? He doesn't usually on Saturdays, does he?" She was impressed he'd noticed that.
"He doesn't, unless he's working an active case, no."
"Ah."
"That's not this, though. I'm not sure if this is why, but I know he's mentioned that there are some people, like Lavender Brown, who seem to not be accepting the wolfsbane potion anymore."
"Really?" he asked. He frowned, looking very much as if he was thinking something. "I saw nothing about that in the Prophet or Quibbler ."
"I don't think it's public knowledge. He talked to me just to see if I had any ideas."
"Ah," he said with a nod and another glance at Harry. "I will, of course, think about it, too."
"Oh, thank you," she said.
Stupid.
That hadn't even occurred to her. Potions master. She just hadn't wanted to sound as if she was making him do something with or for the magical world. Of course, she could have asked him to do just that: think about it.
"All right, Witch. Shoo."
"Me! You're the one that keeps talking!" She reached up, kissing his ear. "I'll pretend it means you're going to miss me. So thank you."
"You wouldn't be wrong in that. Flux even seems. Well, flummoxed when his pumas are not both there."
"That's sweet," she said, kissing his ear again. "I miss you both, too. Good night, Noah."
"Good night, Hermione."
Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com