Content Harry Potter Trixie Belden Star Trek: TNG My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
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Chapter Two: Coming Home

Two and a half years earlier.

Harry and Hermione returned to the Granger home tired, heartsick, grimy, and feeling used up. They and their four friends were the heroes of the Wizarding world. They'd tricked Riddle and his inner circle, including Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and all three Lestranges, into Apparating to a nice little grassy depression in western Wales. It wasn't far from Godric's Hollow, and near where they'd found the final horcrux as well, which had been hidden in an old Abbey.

While Riddle knew something wasn't right and might have suspected at least some of his Horcruxes had been destroyed, he remained as arrogant as ever. Like all despotic would-be world conquerors before him, he didn't believe anyone could outsmart his plans, particularly the ones of immortality. He was wrong.

The six friends were lying in wait for him and his mob of sycophants to arrive, and when they did only Harry rose to greet their guests. His friends did peer over the top of the blast barrier they’d erected. When the self-styled Lord and his twelve disciples had Apparated to the coordinates, they had arrived all nicely bunched up as planned. Harry was sure they had intended to arrive in a much more spread out group, but had not counted on the intuitive and collective genius of this particular sextet. Tommy and the Death Eaters had been subtly guided to their present grouping by a very ingenious Apparition containment field designed by none other than Harry's brilliant girlfriend and her two closest female friends. It now covered the depression as an anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey ward and prevented anyone from leaving magically. They also couldn’t walk out, if they thought to try, as there were several layers of repelling charms on the perimeter.

The whole thing lasted less than a minute. Harry called, "Tom! Tom Riddle, over here... It's me - Harry-your-worst-nightmare-Potter."

Riddle snarled, "You’re a dead man Potter, I know you and that dead fool Headmaster of yours destroyed a few of my Horcruxes, but you didn't get them all. And when I kill you, and your little friends too, I'll make some new ones. You and your five associates" he sneered, "are no match for the thirteen of us."

Harry had replied quite casually, "All quite true Tom, except for the Horcrux part. We got all of 'em but one Tom. They're all gone, but you and that stupid snake at your feet, and soon those too will be gone, just wanted you to know who pulled the trigger, Tommy-boy. There are just things you and your idiot blood purists know nothing of because you choose to ignore the Muggle world."

"Nothing you can do can harm us boy, say goodbye to life."

As the man had raised his wand, Harry asked, still casually, "Are those your final words, Tom?"

Riddle had paused at that and said, "What?"

"Guess so," Harry had replied, and brought his left hand from behind his back, flipped the safety cover open on a remote control and pressed a little red button. As he did, he dove for cover behind the barrier with his friends.

The ground around the perimeter of the depression erupted as thirty-nine antipersonnel mines detonated ripping the thirteen witches and wizards, and one ugly snake, to shreds. Moments later delayed timers went off and several hundreds pounds of high explosives churned the ground inside the depression into very fine particles.

A few minutes later, when the dust cleared, the six friends had stood on the edge of the churned up area and all of them pointed their wands at it, saying, "Accio wands." Thirteen wands, all bloody and most in pieces flew to their hands. They then Apparated to Auror headquarters, setting off a lot of alarms, and stirring up a lot of people. When the Director of MLE had come charging in to see what the disturbance was, they explained to him, and the few dozen gobsmacked Aurors standing about, just what had occurred in Wales and where, then presented said director with the wand pieces they’d collected.

In the ensuing hubbub, the six had departed, post-haste, before anyone could question them further, or worse, start finding crimes to accuse them of. They went directly to the offices of the Quibbler, and gave Mr. Lovegood an exclusive on the operation. He promised to print a special edition of the magazine next day. And then the six split up, going to their various destinations; well actually only two places, since four of them went to the Burrow and Hermione and Harry went to the Granger’s.

As soon as they got to her parent’s house, they hugged Jocelyn, received kisses on their cheeks, and had showered together for a long time, feeling they needed to scrub themselves and each other extensively, trying to get rid of the filthy feeling they had of essentially murdering that group of mad people. They then made love for even longer, and slept for over ten hours. The next day, when they finally got downstairs, they found Jocelyn looking worried.

"What’s wrong, Mum," Hermione asked.

"I’m not sure. Your dad has been so distant lately. I could hear you two enjoying each other last night, and tried to do the same with Dad. But…" and a tear started down her cheek, "but he just rolled over and went to sleep. I… I don’t know what’s wrong."

Harry was flummoxed. How could Frank not want this gorgeous woman every chance he got? She was every bit as beautiful as her daughter, he thought, and at least as charming, witty, and funny. He’d liked her from the moment they first met.


Over the months that followed, they often found Jocelyn in more or less the same state. The two youngsters had studied and taken the NEWTS along with their friends in a special exam set up for them. They were heroes of the Wizarding world and nothing was denied them. Naturally all had scored perfect O’s on all their exams. Hermione had huffed over that, saying they had gotten those scores based on their celebrity. When Harry gently suggested, with a smile, that she turn down the exam results and demand a proper retest, she was brought up short.

She had grinned and said, "Not on your life, Potter."

Hermione and Harry had then enrolled in a University prep course, sponsored by the Ministry of Magic, and would attend those classes for the next two years. They had great fun studying together and arguing over minor and major points of study, but both carried a perfect grade record.


It was about six months after the final battle, when Harry was walking back from the local library with a large stack of books he and Hermione needed for classes, that he saw a strange thing. Frank had driven by with a young woman in the car whom Harry knew to be a receptionist at the large surgery where the two Grangers practised Dentistry. And, the two had seemed more than a little friendly. He didn’t say anything to either Hermione or Jocelyn about it, but did keep his eyes open. Over the next couple of months Harry had seen Frank and the other woman several times, and on one occasion he’d found them snogging in the car behind the surgery after hours. But he didn’t know what to do about it, at first.

Shortly after that Harry followed the man’s car one day, when Frank was supposedly playing golf, by the simple expedient of having placed a tracking charm on the car. Hermione, he was coming to realize, wasn’t the only smart person about. When he Apparated to near where the car was parked, he watched Frank accompany the young woman into a first-floor flat. Using some of the techniques he’d learned hunting Horcruxes and Death Eaters, he cast a couple of spells on himself and Apparated silently into the flat. He watched, under a Disillusionment charm and a silencing spell as the two all-but tore each other’s clothes off and started having sex in the small living room. Under the silencing spell he was using he also took a number of photos, then apparated away, feeling extremely sick. He landed in the back yard of the Granger’s house, removed the spells, and was violently ill behind a hydrangea bush.

When he was done being sick, Harry cast cleaning and freshening charms on himself and staggered to the house. Fortunately, Hermione and Jocelyn were out shopping and wouldn’t be back very soon. Harry went to his and Hermione’s room, peeled out of his clothes and walked into the shower, then turned it on. The cold water shocked him, but it felt good, under the circumstances. He felt dirty, and, as the water warmed, he scrubbed himself all over several times until he felt better. He felt almost as dirty as that day after killing Mouldieshorts and Company.

Having dried off and put on clean clothes Harry rewound the film in the camera and went to the nearby one-hour developing shop. He waited for the pictures, after slipping the guy behind the counter a tenner to get them done quickly, and not to report the graphic nature of them. Photos envelope in hand he returned home, and when the women arrived back he was deeply ensconced in his studies as he’d told Hermione he would be.

Later that evening, Harry found it very hard to interact with the family and when questioned on it passed it off as having a lot of the study material on his mind. Hermione looked askance at him, but let it go. When they made it to their room later, though, she confronted him.

"Okay, Potter," she said sternly but not unkind, "what the hell’s going on?"

He looked down at his trainers, the new ones she’d bought recently for him, as he sat on the side of the bed and dithered over what to say. She came and sat next to him, their arms automatically going around one another.

"Harry, you know how much I love you, and there is nothing you can say anymore that will shock or frighten me. We’ve been through too much together for secrets. What is it, love? Tell me, so we can talk about it."

"Herm…" he had to stop and clear his throat. "Hon, this is one thing that will shock you and very likely make you quite angry…" his voice trailed off as he looked deeply into he eyes and he saw fear there over his words, despite what she’d said a moment before.

Her bottom lip trembled as she asked in a very shaky voice, "Harry, do you still love me, is there someone…" and her voice trailed off then as he shook his head.

"Oh, Hermione," he pulled her tightly to him, "I love you more than life itself, and no, there could never be anyone to replace you. It’s not me, it’s…" but his mouth wouldn’t form the words.

Hermione wasn’t known as the smartest witch of her age for nothing. "Harry… is it… is it my… my dad. Is it Daddy? Oh, sweet Merlin Harry… lie to me and say it isn’t."

He lifted her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. They had both had to learn Occlumency and Legilimency in the course of their battle against the Dark. They stared at each other for a moment, silently sharing thoughts, images of Harry’s afternoon activities.

She gasped, then sobbed, into his shoulder while he held her tightly to him. After her sobs subsided and she had dabbed her eyes and blown her nose with the tissues he handed her, she asked, "May I see them… the pictures… I don’t… don’t want to, but I must. I have to see for myself."

"Are you sure, love? It shows everything, and I do mean everything. It was all I could do not to vomit right there in the room."

She straightened her shoulders and her head came up. "Yes Harry, I will look at them now. You and I have certainly faced worse."

"In some ways yes, yes we have Hermione, but this is so different… so much more personal." He reached under the mattress and withdrew the envelope from where he stashed it on his return, handing it to her like it was one of the mines they’d placed only a few months ago. "I haven’t had the balls to look at them yet, myself…" he trailed off, as she glanced unhappily at him. He knew her so well that he knew precisely what she was thinking. Worse, he also knew that she was just as privy to his thoughts as well. For this kind of thing they didn’t need Legilimency.

Taking the envelope as gingerly as he passed it over, Hermione stared at it for over a minute before finally pulling up on the gummy flap and extracting the inner envelop. She pulled the prints out and set aside the envelopes, as she smiled at the one on top. It was of her and Harry, with Crookshanks sprawled across their laps and Hedwig perched on her shoulder. It had been taken by her mum a couple of weeks ago, one day when she came home a bit early from the surgery and found them sleeping on the couch. The two youngsters were holding each other and the cat and owl happily asleep on them, study books and papers scattered about.

Beneath that was one of her parents and Harry hamming it up in the pool, and then one of her sitting on her dad’s shoulders and her mum obviously trying to pull her off. She choked on a sob, then sobbed loudly at the next which was of her dad and the receptionist kissing, clothes already undone, and his hand inside her shirt, her hands on his belt. The next was even worse, as they were still locked together at the lips, but with less clothing. Both their shirts were off, and his trousers around his ankles, and he was pulling hers down. The succeeding pictures showed each further act, as they became naked, and fondled each other, moving to the couch where he was shown with his head between her legs. In the last she was on top of him, the camera angle perfect to show he was penetrating her as well as his face full of concentration and pleasure, and hers in profile. There was no mistaking who was shown in the photos, and Harry hadn’t even had to move for these awful, graphic shots, it just worked out that way.

By the time she’d gone through all of them, Hermione was no longer sobbing, but the tears were flowing freely down her face and Harry thought she looked angry enough to chew nails. He definitely was, and now it looked like they both wanted a piece of the man who’d quite efficiently broken the trust of everyone else in the house. She carefully returned the photos to their envelopes and handed them back to him. He dutifully stashed them back under the mattress, before turning to take her into his arms. Together they cried over the loss of their dad, over the loss of trust, and though they didn’t know it, the loss of the last of their innocence. She of course cried harder and longer, but he held her, lost in their mutual misery, as the occasional tear rolled down his face.

It was bedtime when they finally came back to their senses, and Hermione turned to Harry as they undressed. "Make love with me Harry, let’s make love all night long. I need you to show me real love to help rid me of those images… please? I need you, baby."

He took her into his arms and they fumbled off the rest of each other’s clothing as they kissed and nipped at each other. He stooped down to catch a nipple in his lips, while she gently fondled and stroked him. His free hand was between her thighs tenderly exploring her warm wetness as well. She pulled him to the bed, neither losing contact and they lay down carefully, until she rolled him over so she lay on top, her breasts close to his face. He suckled and nuzzled her tender peaks while she moaned in delight, and when she could stand it no more, slid back to envelop him within her.

Just as she asked, they made love for hours in every position they’d tried so far, and some new ones they thought of. When they finally fell asleep it was because they’d worn each other out for the time being. They woke a few hours later and slowly tenderly and silently fondled each other to excitement, then he rolled between her thighs as her legs wrapped around him and he slid into her. Slowly and leisurely they moved together for a very long time until she started quivering and bucking uncontrollably and pulled him over a precarious edge. It wasn’t the first time they had come together, but it would be one they always remembered, because it seemed to go on and on. When finally they regained some sense of self, they smiled tenderly and kissed for a long time. He rolled over taking her with him, and they fell asleep still coupled.

In the morning they slept late, and made love one more time before showering, and proving that the stamina of the late teen is quite impressive. Shower sex being something they hadn’t gotten to enjoy until they had come home, they often did so, just because they could.

Arriving downstairs they found Jocelyn in the usual state, staring out the back sliding doors at the lovely rear garden. She didn’t turn to them immediately as they sat on either side of her. After a few moments, she looked fondly at her daughter and then the young man she knew would one day be her son-in-law and smiled gently. "You two had a very late night last night. I’m so happy for the two of you. Never lose that special something you have, it is truly magical. Sometimes I swear I can feel it. Can you tell me what brought that on? Why suddenly you felt the need to…? I don’t know… it seemed almost like you were trying to cleanse yourselves of something."

Harry said, "Yes Jocelyn, we can tell you. But first, is Frank gone to the golf course?" He stressed the last two words and Hermione bit her lips to hold in a sob.

"Yes, he said he was going to play two rounds today and wouldn’t be back until late, probably after dinner. Tell me why, Harry… tell me please…"

"Jocelyn… oh Merlin I wish anyone but me had to give you these photos. But," he swallowed hard, and handed her the envelope, "I followed Frank yesterday. Those are pictures of him… of him …fucking Brandy from the clinic." He snarled the last phrase.

Jocelyn searched his eyes and seeing the truth there, turned to her daughter and asked, "Did you look at them last night? Is that why you made love all night, darling? Was it that bad?"

"It’s worse than I could … ever imagine Mum," Hermione paused and drew a breath. She sobbed once, then regained her composure for a moment to say, "I don’t think I know the man in those … photos Mum. That’s not my Daddy, that’s not the kind and gentle man who raised me … it’s …" she sobbed again and leaned in to hug her mother, "That’s an animal I never knew, Mum. That’s someone else… someone who never lived in this house."

Jocelyn nodded at what her daughter said and hugged her, patting her back, as tears coursed down her own cheeks. "I know, love. Daddy has changed in the past few months. He’s not the man I married … and I don’t know what to do to get that man back. Maybe … maybe he’s gone, I just don’t know." And then she turned to Harry. "Hold me, Harry, darling. Hold us and be the strong man I know you are. We both need you right now …"

And as she trailed off, Harry knelt in front of the two women and held them in as big a hug as he could manage. He still had not gotten used to caring for a weeping woman, let alone two, but he did somehow. Truth was, he cried along with them. Maybe he didn’t know Frank as well as they did, and he’d certainly only known the man at all for a short time, but he’d grown to like, maybe even love the gentle, good humoured dentist, and it hurt knowing they’d lost him. He could have really used a father figure about now, but that too was taken from him and he cried, maybe not for the same reasons they did, but surely for just as good a one. He cried for all he’d lost in his life, for all that would never be.


The divorce itself was bitter, because the foolish twit Frank had shacked up with kept meddling in things and made it a lot harder than it had to be. It was due to Brandy that the divorce settlement was as large as it was for Jocelyn, and thanks to the judge who’d seen through the bint’s greed. Throughout the whole ordeal, Hermione cried often, Jocelyn not so much so, but each time one of them did, Harry was there to give comfort and solace and a strong shoulder to lean on. Later, Harry would reflect that it was then that he started having feelings for Jocelyn; that was when something was altered inside him. He began to see her as a friend, as a gentle and warm woman, and less as his girlfriend’s mother.

By the time the divorce was over and everyone had moved on, Jocelyn had become a friend to Harry and Hermione, and he saw a subtle alteration in the women’s relationship as well. They were friendlier and on a more equal basis. Jocelyn never again jokingly chided Hermione for things she had before - Hermione had finally become a full adult in her eyes. They often laughed over some silly mistake one or the other had made, and seldom got even close to being angry with one another. It was more like they were now adult sisters sharing the same house, with a young man to keep them both company.

To be certain, there were many rough patches. Hermione had taken her father’s betrayal much harder, in some ways than had Jocelyn. With time, though, they had all come to accept that this was to be their new life, at least for a while. Harry often took the two to dinner, and once in a while they even went dancing. Hermione would occasionally accept the invitation of another man to dance, but for some reason Jocelyn never did. Harry thought he understood her feelings though. He was sure she felt safe with him, and wasn’t ready to move outside that safe comfort zone that was Harry James Potter, just yet. He didn’t mind, because he truly cared for the woman.

When Harry and Hermione went to the cinema they always tried to get Jocelyn to go along, and sometimes she would. She told her daughter in confidence one day that she didn’t want to be a ‘third wheel’ in the relationship between the two, but Hermione assured her that was never further from reality. After that she accepted their invitations more frequently, only begging off when she’d had a particularly rough day at the new clinic where she worked. Strangely they always had a good time, the three of them; every bit as much fun, if not more they told her, than when it was just the two youngsters.


And so it was that one day more than a year after the divorce was finalized Jocelyn came into the kitchen to find a tired and careworn Harry brooding over a mug of coffee. He hardly heard her come in, but perked up a bit when he noticed her.

"Good Morning, Harry," Jocelyn said as she walked into the kitchen in her dressing gown, if it could be called such, given that it came to a stop immediately below her shapely buttocks. "How are you doing this fine morning?" She turned to face him, and started at the signs of a man who was having trouble sleeping. "You know, Harry, a good bout of sex might help you get to sleep at night," she said with a laugh.

"Are you propositioning my boyfriend again, Mum?" Hermione asked, also with a laugh, as she entered the dining area. "She's right, Harry, at least as far as sleep is concerned. Are you having nightmares about ... then?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I'm worrying over another problem, and I really don't know what to do about it. And I can't talk to either of you about it, either," he said apologetically.

"Can you hint around the edges?" Jocelyn asked him.

"No." He sighed. "I know what I need to do, but I don't want to, because people will get hurt by it — people who don't deserve that. But they'll be hurt if I don't do it as well." He put his head in his hands.

"Tell us, Harry," Hermione said softly. "I'm your girlfriend; I'm supposed to be here to help you. Please?"

"Trust me, Hermione, you'll hate me if I tell you."

"I can't think of anything that would make me hate you. Please, let me help, Harry. Sweet Merlin, you got the two of us through that mess with Dad. Now let us help you with whatever is bothering you."

He looked into her eyes and said, "I'll tell you, and as soon as I'm done, I'll go pack. Trust me, neither of you are going to want me around after you hear, because I've found something that will make you hate me." He put his head back into his hands for a moment before looking up at both ladies.

"Hermione, I am scum, and before you argue with me, let me explain why I say that. I am still deeply in love with you, but I am also in love with another woman."

Both women actually stepped back in shock before Jocelyn ground out through clenched teeth, "Can we at least have this woman's name?" she asked. Hermione simply stood there, blinking back tears.

"I never meant this to happen!" Harry said unhappily. "Do you think I wanted to be anything like that bastard Frank?" he howled in deep emotional pain. He dropped his head into his hands hard enough that the dishes jumped and clattered as the force was transmitted through his arms to the table.

The women were surprised when they saw his hands clench while still holding his head, and the surprise turned to alarm as they saw blood flow as his fingernails tore the skin at both temples. He lifted his head, continuing to rip the skin as he did. The flow became alarming, and at first he did nothing to stop it. It was when it fell to his clothes that he blinked and said, "No sense in needing to clean the floors." He pulled his wand and cast a charm that sealed the wounds, but Hermione knew it to be a rather painful battlefield healing spell.

He stood and looked to the two women as if he no longer had any emotions. "I'm sorry, ladies. I need to leave and … I've hurt you enough. I see no reason to drag out your pain any longer."'

He turned to leave the room but was stopped when Hermione asked him, "May I please know the name of the woman that … you're in such pain right now, Harry. She must be quite something if you fell in love with her."

"She is something, Hermione," he said. "She gave birth to the most magnificent woman this world will ever know." He turned to her mother. "It's you, Jocelyn. I fell in love with you as well as your daughter. I will not be the cause of fighting between you two."

They looked at him for a long moment before Hermione started to open her mouth. "I'll send for my things later on, is that okay?" he asked. At her stunned look, he Disapparated away from the first real home he'd ever known.

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