Author's Note:
This is a revised Chapter 15…I have written this myself in response to some of the reviews I received. I admit that I
should probably have written the previous Chapter 15 myself, but I was worried about how the confrontation should go so
I asked a really good friend of mine to help me out. He did so and I thought he did an excellent job, but I do admit
that it didn't really go along with how the story had progressed so far. This is my version of Chapter 15 and I
hope that you enjoy this. I would like to thank ShadowMaster for all his help. He is truly a very talented writer and a
great friend.
Chapter Fifteen
Sympathy for the Devil
"Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's confusing you
Is just the nature of my game
Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints"
(The Rolling Stones)
Hermione followed Simon through the foyer into the living room. He stopped suddenly and turned around to embrace her. The move took her by surprise, and she tried to not look so taken aback by his gesture.
"I've missed you, sweetheart," he said, finally letting go of her. "The last time you came home was just before Easter."
"Dad, it hasn't been that long," she said. "So, what have you been up to?"
"Just writing," he said. "Keeping busy, you know."
She nodded, and took a seat on the couch.
"Have you eaten?" he asked. "I made some lasagna for dinner. I could warm you up a plate. It was always your favorite, you know."
She couldn't believe he was being so civilized, so normal. Of course, he had no idea that she knew who he really was and what he had done, but she still couldn't believe it. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to ask him why he did this to her. Now wasn't the time for that, though. There was a plan and she had to stick to it.
She shook her head. "No, dad," she said. "I'm okay, really."
"It's no trouble," he said.
"I know," she said, a little more abruptly than she had planned. "I'm not hungry."
"Okay," he said, a little taken aback at her tone.
Hermione cursed silently to herself. She couldn't give herself away, just yet.
"Sorry, I'm a little tired from classes and all," she said.
"Understandable," he said, taking a seat in his favorite armchair across from the couch. "So how is Trey?"
"I don't know," she said, avoiding meeting his gaze. "We've broken up."
"I'm sorry," he said. "You seem to be taking it well."
"Well, it wasn't working for a long time," she said. "It didn't help that someone else entered the picture, too."
"Oh?" he asked surprised.
"Yeah," she said. "It was unexpected, of course, but I fell for someone I worked with."
"Really?" he asked. "Well, tell me about this new man."
"Well, he's great," she said. "You know how it is when you meet someone and you feel like you've known them forever? It was like that for him and me. We had this connection right from the start."
Simon nodded.
Hermione prepared to move in for the kill. "I can't really explain it. It was sort of…magical, you know?"
She searched his eyes for any recognition at her emphasis on the word "magical", but he didn't let on that it had bothered him.
"It was like that for me and your mum," Simon said.
"Was it?" Hermione asked. This was her opening so she went for it.
Simon nodded, a far away look coming over his face.
"You know, we've never really talked that much about mom," she began. "I mean, after my accident, you told me a bunch of stuff and showed me the photo albums, but after that, you never really talked about her all that much."
Simon shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"Well, you, um, were already going through such a terrible ordeal with your recovery and I didn't think we should dwell in the painful memories of the past."
"But they weren't painful," Hermione said, pressing. "I mean, she was my mother, after all. I want to talk about her. I want to know about what she was like. I mean, if I can't ask you those questions, who can I ask?"
Simon got up from the chair and paced back and forth in front of the coffee table.
"Julie," he began, but she cut him off.
"No, Dad," she said. "We've avoided this for way too long. I mean, we never even went back to London to see our relatives. They never contacted us."
"Well, I, um, told you that her family was against her marrying me," he said, avoiding her penetrating gaze. "They pretty much cut her off without a second glance once we were married."
"I know that's what you said," she said, leaning forward. "But, it just doesn't make sense, Dad. I'm their granddaughter. Why wouldn't her parents want to see me?"
"They just didn't!" Simon said, angrily. He saw the confused expression on her face and tried to cover up his outburst. "I'm s-sorry, Julie. I shouldn't have said that like that. This has always been hard to talk about."
"We need to talk about it, Dad," she said. "In case you've forgotten, not only did you lose a wife, but I lost a mother. Not only that, I have no memory of her. Yes, you showed me pictures and you've told me vague details, but you always changed the subject when I wanted to know more. Now, I know you might not want to talk about it, but I need to know. Please."
He took a seat on the couch beside her. He took her hands in his.
"Julie, you're all that I have left," he said, his eyes penetrating on hers. "I need you to understand that this is extremely difficult for me to talk about. I can't, um…"
His voice trailed off and he dropped her hands. Again, he stood up and began pacing nervously.
"You can't what?" she asked him, impatiently.
"I, um, know that you need to talk about this and you want to hear this, but this just isn't the time," he said.
There was a deafening silence in the room as Simon continued to pace and Hermione just looked at him in disbelief.
"Please, Dad," she said, tears falling down her cheeks. "Tell me."
"Your mother…well, she loved you very much," he said, his back to her. He stood at the window. His voice sounded quite hollow and his tone seemed clipped. It was almost as if he was reading the words instead of speaking from his heart.
"I know that," she said.
"Well, when we got the news that your mother's cancer had spread, we prepared for the worst," he said. "The doctors said she had no chance of survival. We were all devastated by this news. You, most of all. You were the light of your mother's eyes. She loved you so much."
Hermione didn't respond. She sat back on the couch and folded her arms across her chest as she listened to his tale.
"The cancer spread really quickly. Each day she progressively got worse," he said solemnly. "You never left her side. You would read to her everyday, and um, you'd sleep on the floor beside her bed. You set up a pallet on the floor and you refused to go anywhere because you thought that she might need you. You kept her going, you know that? She would have never made it as long as she did, if, um, you hadn't been there. You kept me going. It was because of you, um, that I was able to carry on after your mum's death. I wanted nothing more than to just crawl away and join her, but I promised her, that um, I would make sure you were okay and that you lived a happy, healthy childhood like we planned."
Hermione exhaled. She couldn't believe him. He was playing on her sympathies and her guilt. He had done it from the start. She sat there looking at this man--this man who she had loved as a father and this overwhelming sense of hatred and disgust came over her.
"Happy?" she asked him. She gave out a hollow sounding laugh.
Simon turned around and looked at her, surprised. "You've been happy, haven't you? I mean, I did all that I could for you, you know that don't you? I mean, I brought you here so you'd have a new life with a number of opportunities that you might not have had."
"A new life?" she repeated bitterly.
"What's brought all this on, Julie?" he asked, his eyes were full of concern. "Why are you asking all of these questions about the past? I mean, we've agreed before that we would do all we could to put it behind us and move forward. I thought that was what you wanted to."
"We agreed?" she asked, incredulously. "We agreed? I believe it was you, Dad, who decided that for the both of us and I had no choice but to go along with what you said and what you told me."
Simon opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted him. Simon looked away from his daughter.
"Who could that be?" he asked. "It's pretty late for visitors."
"It's probably my boyfriend," Hermione said, absently wiping away a tear from her cheek. "He brought me here to Asheville. He had something he had to do so he said he'd meet me here."
"Oh," Simon said, his expression brightening. He was visibly relieved at this arrival that would no doubt change the subject.
"You stay here," Hermione said, getting up from the couch. "I'll go get the door."
"Alright, Julie," Simon said. As she walked past him, he gave her a reassuring, comforting pat on her shoulder. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to shake off his hand. She gave him a half-hearted smile as she made her way through the foyer to the front door.
As expected, Harry was waiting at the front door. He looked intently at her as she opened the door. At the sight of her red, tear-filled eyes, a cold, angry expression came over his features. Hermione looked up at him.
"I'm okay," she whispered. "Just stay in control, Harry. Really, I'm okay."
"Did he hurt you?" he asked, putting his hands on her shoulder.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not physically, anyway."
He nodded and took her in his arms for a warm embrace. She let her head rest against his chest and felt safe and warm in his arms. She wished that they could just walk out that door right now and never look back. That wasn't part of the plan, and she knew that. Besides, she wanted to hear him explain his actions. She needed to hear him try to explain what he'd done. She finally let go of Harry and taking his hand, led him through the foyer to the living room.
Simon was sitting in his favorite armchair again, his head in his hands. He looked for all intents and purposes like a defeated, little man. Hermione heard Harry take a long, deep breath as he took in Simon Maxwell for the first time.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Dad?"
Simon lifted his head up and stood up from the chair. He gave his daughter a reassuring smile and looked past her at the young man standing in his living room. The color drained from his face.
"Dad," Hermione said, putting a smile on her face. "This is Harry Potter."
Simon fell back onto the chair. His mouth agape.
"Harry," Simon choked out.
"Nice to meet you, sir," Harry said, stepping forward and extending his hand for Simon to shake. Simon didn't even seem to notice. Harry brought his hand back to his side.
"Julie," Simon said, looking glassy-eyed at his daughter.
"Oh, come now, Dad," she said. "Don't you think it's time you stopped calling me that? I mean, it's not even my name, is it?"
"What are you talking about?" Simon asked.
"I'm talking about the fact that my name is not Julie Maxwell," she spat back at him. "I'm not your daughter. I never have been. This isn't my home. Every word out of your mouth to me has been a lie."
"No," Simon said, helplessly. "It hasn't been a lie. You don't understand, Julie."
"Why don't you clear it up for her, then?" Harry interjected angrily. "Clear it up for the both of us, you son-of-a-bitch! I, for one, would love to hear how you could explain what you did to her."
Simon was silent. He looked down at the floor.
"What's the matter?" Hermione asked coldly. "I get it! You've been lying for so long now; I think you wouldn't know the truth if it came up and bit you on the arse, would you?"
"Julie," Simon began.
"My name," Hermione said, as calmly as she could muster. "Is not Julie. It's Hermione. Elizabeth. Granger."
"I'm so sorry," he said, tears falling down his face.
"You're sorry?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Well, that makes it alright, then? You're sorry?"
Simon didn't answer, his chest heaved with uncontrollable sobs.
"Do you have any idea what you've done to her?" Harry continued. "She had a family, friends and people who cared about her and have spent the past four years mourning her death. You could have stopped that a long time ago, but no. You had to keep up this horrible plan of a dead wizard! You're nothing more than a coward, Simon. You took her away from her family. You took her away from her friends. You took her away from me! Not only that, but you took her memories from her and replaced them with your own version of the truth. You held her prisoner in a life that was never really hers. You've fed her nothing but lies for four years. And for what? What do you have to show for it? Just some misplaced, misguided loyalty to a dead wizard."
"I love my daughter," Simon choked out. "I love my daughter."
"I'm not your daughter!" Hermione screamed at him.
Hermione collapsed to the floor, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Harry wrapped her in his arms and hugged her tightly.
Simon watched the scene unfold and tentatively arose from his chair and walked over to where Hermione and Harry stood embracing. He put a hand on her back.
"You are my daughter," he said. Hermione let go of Harry and turned around to look at Simon. "You are my daughter in every way that counts. Everything I did, I did out of love for you. Please believe that."
Harry couldn't take it anymore. He laughed. He pushed Simon's hand away from Hermione and then proceeded to push him forcefully against the wall.
"You're unbelievable!" Harry said angrily. He rounded on Simon again as Simon tried to get up.
"Harry!" Hermione called after him, trying to hold him back.
Harry shrugged her arm away. He drew back his arm and punched Simon solidly in the jaw. Simon's head fell back against the fireplace.
Harry turned to look at Hermione.
"Harry," she said softly. Neither of them noticed that Simon had gotten up from the floor and picked up a fireplace poker and was about to hit Harry over the head with it. Harry turned just in time to see his approach and ducked. Unfortunately, the move took Hermione totally by surprise and was hit hard over the head. She stumbled and fell back onto the floor.
"Hermione!" Harry called out as Simon called out "Julie!"
Harry looked down at her, lying unconscious on the floor. All thoughts of Simon went out the door and he kneeled down to check on her. He felt around for a pulse and to his relief, there was one.
Simon stepped forward and Harry pushed him back against the wall of the fireplace.
"Don't you go near her, you bastard!" Harry yelled at him.
"Hermione," Harry said, rubbing her cheek with his hand. "Come on, sweetie, wake up."
"I never meant to hurt her," he said. "I only wanted to knock you out so I could talk to her. She wouldn't listen to me with you here. I would never hurt my Julie."
"Never meant to hurt her?" Harry repeated, turning to face Simon properly. He felt the anger and rage welling up fresh in him again.
"Look at her!" Harry said, gesturing at her unconscious form. You've done nothing but hurt her since you came into her life. How could you have done this to her!"
He looked back and forth between Hermione and Simon, feeling an uncontrollable rage surging through him. Simon, on the other hand, looked stricken and worried as his eyes were focused solely on Hermione.
"I never wanted her to find out this way," Simon said.
"You make me sick," Harry retorted. He got to his feet and shoved Simon down to the floor. He then kicked him with all his might in the stomach. Simon coughed and moaned in pain.
"GET UP!" Harry ordered him.
Simon tried to sit up against the fireplace, but he was choking up blood.
"GET UP!" Harry repeated. "GET UP YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!"
Simon nodded and struggled to his feet. There was a loud "pop" as Sirius and Ron apparated inside the house. They both stared at Harry and Simon. Ron looked around the room for Hermione and saw her lying on the floor, her body listless. He ran to her side as Sirius went to Harry, who proceeded to unload a myriad of punches, kicks, hits and shoves on Simon.
Sirius grabbed Harry's arm. Harry violently shrugged it off.
"She doesn't look good, Harry," Ron called to his friend. "Her pulse is weak."
This news only seemed to enrage Harry further.
"Harry!" Sirius said, again trying to restrain his godson. "Harry! Stop it!"
Sirius tightened his grip on Harry's shoulder.
"You're not worth it!" Harry spat at Simon. "You aren't worth any of it!"
Harry fell to his knees.
Simon, bloodied, bruised and disoriented, tried to catch his breath.
Sirius grabbed his wand and muttered a spell which caused ropes to shoot out of the tip of the wand. The ropes bound Simon's hands and legs.
"I'll, um, take him into Azkaban," Sirius said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You and Ron look after Hermione. Take her into St. Mungo's. They can help her there."
Harry nodded. The mention of Hermione's name brought Harry back into the moment and he turned and looked worried at his girlfriend, who still lay unconscious cradled in Ron's arms.
Harry nodded at Sirius and watched as Sirius gathered Simon up and heard the loud "pop" as they apparated to Azkaban.
Harry got to his feet and walked over to Hermione and Ron.
"She'll be okay," Ron said, looking worried. "She has to be, Harry."
Harry nodded. "We can't lose her again, Ron. I can't lose her again."