Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews guys. In this chapter, you get some insight into Harry's new girlfriend, Maggie. I just couldn't bring myself to write a love scene between them (being the diehard Pumpkin Pie girl that I am) Anyway, this chapter includes two flashback scenes…one from "Again" (which for some stupid reason, I wrote in first person-which I shouldn't have) and "My Sacrifice". If you haven't read those two stories, you might not understand the flashbacks. Anyway, without further ado, here's the latest chapter. I hope you enjoy.
Chapter Four
Best I Ever Had
"So you sailed away
Into a grey sky morning
Now I'm here to stay
Love can be so boring
Nothing's quite the same now
I just say your name now"
("Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning"))
Maggie McCall arrived back in London late in the afternoon from Australia. Although she was exhausted, she and Harry went out to eat at one of her favorite Italian restaurants in Muggle London. The food was outstanding, but the conversation had been somewhat troubling. Maggie felt like she was the only one talking and she wasn't sure that Harry was doing very much of the listening. He had a sort of vacant expression on his face and he'd barely touched his food. She'd told him about the convention in Australia and he'd nodded when he was supposed to and thrown in a "Really?" and a "Yes?" when prompted, but other than that hadn't contributed at all to the conversation.
She asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn't say much beyond him and Ron having words last night when Harry had went to his flat for dinner. He didn't go into much detail, and she knew him well enough by now that she knew when to press the issue and when to let it go. This was one of those times when he obviously wanted to let it go.
They'd taken a walk after dinner and she'd asked him if he was excited to be going to Scotland in the next couple of days to begin his training. His eyes lit up somewhat at this topic and he had talked a little about his plans and how he was looking forward to it.
They made it back to her flat just before midnight and she'd asked him if he wanted to stay over. Considering his mood throughout the night, she was quite surprised when he nodded. Any hope she had a wonderful reunion was dashed when he kept telling her how sleepy and exhausted he was.
As a result, as soon as they entered the flat, he made his way for her bedroom. Almost upon the moment his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. Maggie laughed. She was exhausted and would love to join him, but she knew she should check on the owl post.
She went into her small kitchen and put the kettle on to make her a nice cup of tea, decaffeinated of course. She sat down at the table and absently began going through the parcels and packages that she'd received since she'd been gone. Her mind was not on this task, though. Her mind was on the man asleep in her bedroom.
She'd been as surprised as everyone else when he'd asked her out. She had attended Hogwarts with Ron, Harry and Hermione, but she hadn't really known them. She knew of them, of course. Who didn't? She could still remember how she and her fellow Hufflepuff girls had watched with awe at the way that Harry used to look at Hermione. She could remember a number of her friends saying that they wished they could have someone look at them like that. Maggie had felt the same way. She almost couldn't believe that she was dating him now. Though, she wasn't stupid enough to think that he looked at her a fraction of the way he used to look at Hermione.
Their relationship was still so new, though. Hopefully, that would come in time, she'd tell herself.
She'd officially met Harry at one of the Weasleys dinner parties. She worked with Arthur Weasley in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office at the Ministry of Magic. For weeks before the party, she'd suspected that Arthur and Molly were playing matchmaker. Arthur would drop hints during work and when Molly would drop by, she'd talk about how great Harry was. Maggie couldn't help thinking that Molly should be out selling cars with how persuasive and persistent she was.
At the party, Molly had made a point of seating them side by side at dinner and making sure that they came into close contact throughout the evening. Maggie had heard and read a number of stories about how the death of Hermione Granger had devastated him. She'd also heard of how hard he'd worked to get things in his life back in order. She'd found him to be very friendly and warm and she had to admit feeling a little weak in the knees that first night she'd met him. It was those piercing green eyes.
Although they'd enjoyed each other's company at the party, she hadn't thought anything would come of it. She'd been pleasantly surprised when he'd showed up at The Ministry a couple of days later and asked her out to lunch. He'd been so adorably nervous when he'd asked her, she wouldn't have said no in a million years.
Their relationship had progressed quite nicely, but there was a ghost, literally and figuratively, hanging over their relationship. He'd never said he'd loved her. She had told him how she felt, but he hadn't said anything. It had hurt her, but she understood that he wasn't like most men. She'd give him time. When he was ready to say it, he'd say it. She held on that.
What she didn't tell him was how she'd hear him call out Hermione's name in his sleep. She hadn't told him that after the first night they'd made love; she'd woken up to find him out of the bed. She found him, hunched over on his couch, crying. She hadn't made her presence known to him, then. She'd just let him be. He was obviously feeling guilty for caring about someone else when he still held on tight to his memories of the love of his life.
Maggie had no delusions that she'd have with Harry what he'd had with Hermione. She did believe, however, that she could make him happy. The problem was that whenever she thought she was making a breakthrough, he'd pull back. She understood and knew why, but it certainly didn't make it hurt any less.
She gave up on reading her mail. She was too tired to even think about it. She quickly disrobed into her nightgown and climbed into bed beside Harry. She whispered "Nox" and lay her head down on her pillow. The last thought she had before going to sleep was one that had plagued her for weeks now. How would they ever be able to move forward when he couldn't or wouldn't let go of his past?
Harry made it back to his own flat the next morning, feeling a little better than he had the night before.
Ron's words had haunted him the past couple of days. He knew Ron was right. He had to find some way to let go. The problem was he didn't know if he had the strength and willpower to do it.
He'd be leaving tomorrow to begin his training. He was excited and nervous all at the same time. This trip couldn't come at a better time, he couldn't help thinking. He'd have the training to keep his mind off of all this drama.
He took a quick shower and dressed in a pair of sweat pants and an old t-shirt. He went up into the attic to get his trunk down to begin packing. He'd just managed to levitate it down the attic stairs when he heard a loud, persistent knock on his door.
He looked at his watch. It wasn't even 8 a.m. yet. Who would be calling on him this early? Still, the knocking continued.
"Hold on," he called out. "I'll be right there!"
He opened the door and to his surprise, he found Ron, looking disheveled and out of sorts, standing beside Neville, who looked as agitated and wound up as Harry had ever seen him. Ron looked as if he had just gotten out of bed as he was still wearing his t-shirt and boxer shorts. Ron was staring crossly at Neville.
"What's all this about then?" Harry asked them. "What are you lot doing here this early?"
"Bloody hell if I know!" Ron exclaimed angrily. He shot another cool glare at Neville. "He comes knocking on my door at-", his voice breaking off. "Merlin's beard! I don't even know what the bleeding time is! And he doesn't even give me a chance to get properly dressed, either! He just tells me that he needs to talk to you and me together right now! That's all he says!"
Neville looked sheepishly down at the floor.
"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry! I just really need to talk to you both. You know that I wouldn't have done it like this if it wasn't extremely important."
"Well, do you mind if we do it inside, Neville?" Ron asked irritably.
Harry stepped back and allowed Neville and Ron to walk through the doorway. He closed the door behind them and followed them into the sitting room. Neville shook off Harry when Harry asked him to sit. He took a seat beside Ron on the couch. Neville silently paced back and forth in front of the couch.
"Neville!" Harry finally said. "Stand still for heaven's sake! You're starting to make me
nervous."
"Sorry," Neville said, with a half-hearted laugh. He finally took a seat in the chair across from them. He
looked thoughtful for a few moments, like he was mentally planning how best to say what he had to say.
"Neville," Ron said impatiently. "You obviously didn't get me over here at the arse crack of dawn just so we could stare at each other, did you?"
"No," Neville said solemnly. "It's just that I don't really know how to say this to you, to either of you, actually. It seems so far-fetched and implausible. I mean, I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. I mean the resemblance and the pitch and tone of her voice. It's just so mind-blowing how…much she sounds…and looks…"
Harry and Ron exchanged a look of impatience.
"Neville," Harry interrupted. "You're not making any sense. Take a deep breath, and start over."
Ron looked horrified at Harry.
"No!" he exclaimed. "I mean, you don't have to star over, Nev. Just give us the relevant details."
Neville nodded. He took a deep breath and continued. "Well, you know that I was over in the States this past week on a plant symposium?"
Harry nodded. Ron just stared back at Neville.
"Well, it was held at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. It's really a beautiful campus. You guys would love it, really. Very hot climate, though. I don't know how they stand it, really."
Ron looked as if he was having a terrible time trying to stay calm.
"Neville," Ron said warningly.
"Oh, right, sorry," Neville said. "Well, the last night of the symposium there was this banquet dinner for all the guests. They had it at this restaurant in Chapel Hill. One of the waitresses there, Harry, she um," his voice trailed off.
"One of the waitresses there, what?" Harry prompted.
"Harry, I don't know how to say this, but I think Hermione may still be alive."
Harry froze.
"Neville," Ron said. "If you're playing a joke on us, this isn't very funny. You know as well as I do that Hermione died four years ago at Tom Riddle's old house. For Merlin's sake, Harry and I watched him perform the curse on her."
"I wouldn't joke about this, Ron," Neville said, seriously. "There was a waitress at this restaurant that looked and sounded just like Hermione. I swear to you both as a Gryffindor that what I'm telling you is the absolute truth. It nearly took my breath away at the resemblance, Harry. She has shorter hair than Hermione did, but it's the same shade of brown. Her accent isn't as pronounced as it once was, but she still has it!"
Harry stood up from the couch and silently walked over to the window.
"I went up to her and spoke with her. I think it freaked her out somewhat the way I was staring at her, but I apologized for staring at her. I told her she reminded me of someone. She didn't seem to recognize me at all. She said she thought she would remember if she'd met someone with a name like Neville Longbottom. She was really quite charming, just like Hermione was. I asked her what her name was and she told me it was Julie. She also told me how she'd grown up here in London, but that she had moved to North Carolina four years ago. Four years, Ron."
"Coincidence," Ron said. "This girl isn't Hermione, Neville."
"I think she may be, Ron," Neville said. "I really do."
"Harry?" Ron asked, turning around to look at his friend. Harry was still silent, staring at the window. "Don't do this, mate! It's not Hermione. Neville, this girl probably just has a passing resemblance to her."
"Ron," Neville said firmly. "This girl could be Hermione's twin. I honestly believe it was her. I wanted you lads to know what I saw. You can do with this what you will, but I honestly believe it was her."
"Harry," Ron said again. "Come on, mate."
Harry suddenly turned around. "Neville? You said this girl was a waitress at a restaurant?"
"Yes," Neville said. "She works at this place called Billie's Bar & Grill. I have a matchbook in my pocket from there."
He put a hand in his pocket and pulled out the matchbook. With a shaking hand, he gave it to Harry. Harry looked at it, his eyes glossing over.
"Harry," Ron said concerned. "Don't do this to yourself. It's not her."
"How do you know that?" Harry asked him, his eyes shining with tears.
"Because we both saw V-voldemort perform that curse on her," Ron said. "She died! We saw her buried, Harry."
Harry looked thoughtful for a few moments. The silence in the room was nearly deafening.
"Ron's probably right, Neville," Harry said, he dropped the matchbook onto his coffee table. "Thanks for coming by and sharing the news with me, but I don't think it was her."
Neville nodded, a look of disappointment coming over his face. "I just thought you should know."
"I'll, um, see you out," Harry said. He walked toward the door and opened it, shaking Neville's hand before watching him walk out the door.
He walked back into the sitting room where Ron was still sitting on the couch. Harry picked up the matchbook again, looking at it, as if he was waiting for it to give him some sort of information.
"It's not her, mate," Ron said.
"Probably not," Harry said, his voice nearly in a whisper.
"It's not," Ron said. "Don't do this again, Harry. I wish Neville hadn't come over to tell you this. This is all better left in the past."
"What if it is her?" Harry asked. "What if it is?"
"It's not," Ron said. "Look, you have a train to catch tomorrow morning for Scotland, right? You
don't have time to be thinking about this now! You've finally got things back on track, Harry. Don't blow
it now."
"This 'Julie' person isn't Hermione," Ron said.
"You're probably right," Harry said. "I really should start my packing. I have to get everything done if your mum's going to give me a going-away dinner, right?"
"Yeah," Ron said. "You're still coming, then?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm the guest of honor, right?"
"Good," Ron said. "I, um, better get back to Kit, okay?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "You going to apparate back?"
"Yeah," Ron said. "I'll see you tonight."
Harry didn't turn around to say goodbye to his friend. When he heard the loud pop signaling Ron's departure, he finally sat back down on the couch; the matchbook still in his hand.
This was preposterous. It couldn't be, he tried to tell himself.
A voice in his head kept whispering, "It would explain why you never really felt she was gone. It would explain why you've never been able to truly let go."
Ron was right. He'd seen Voldemort perform the killing curse on Hermione. He'd held her limp body in his arms. He'd watched as they buried her in the Granger family plot. How the hell did she end up in bloody North Carolina? It couldn't have been her. There was no way it could be her, he thought to himself. But, what if it was? Did he really want to go there again? What if he went to check this out and had his hopes dashed again? What would happen then? There were too many questions floating around in his head and not enough answers.
___________________________________________________
Later that evening, Maggie and Harry arrived at the Burrow for Harry's going away dinner. The entire Weasley family was in attendance with assembled spouses, dates and children as well as Sirius, Lupin and Tonks.
Harry hadn't told Maggie about Neville's visit earlier that day. Ron hadn't told Kit, either. It was still on both of their minds as they were both the least talkative of the guests at the party.
Harry was in the sitting room watching as Fred and George were engaged in a game of Exploding Snap. Ginny was in the kitchen with Maggie helping Molly with the final preparations for dinner.
Sirius came into the room and saw his godson, standing at the mantle looking at the photographs. The one he was looking at was of Ron, Hermione, and Harry, taken their fourth year at Hogwarts.
"Hey," Sirius said, coming up behind his godson.
Harry jumped.
"Sorry to startle you, Harry," he said. "You need to work on that for your training. A good auror is never startled."
"Well, a good auror probably doesn't have as much on their mind, either," Harry said cryptically.
Sirius looked at him confused. "What's that mean?"
"Nothing," Harry said. "I've just had a lot on my mind lately."
"She seems nice," Sirius said, tilting his head to the kitchen. "Seems to like you an awful lot, though I can't see why."
"Funny," Harry said. "She is nice."
"Are you okay, Harry?" Sirius asked him, seriously. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Harry nodded. "Outside, though. I need some air."
Sirius nodded and turned to Fred and George. "Boys, if your mum's looking for us we'll be outside."
Fred nodded and went back to the game.
A few minutes later, Harry had told Sirius about Neville's trip to Chapel Hill and about Julie and how Neville thought this girl was Hermione.
"Well, if anyone should know about coming back from the dead," Sirius said. "It would be me."
"So you think Voldemort could have done this?"
"I don't know," Sirius said. "I know he was capable of a great deal. I know he had something big planned. He talked about with his guards while I was in captivity. I never found out much about it. I thought it was me, but maybe it had something to do with Hermione."
"This couldn't have come at a worse time, Sirius," Harry said, his voice choking. "I have to go to Scotland tomorrow. I shouldn't be worrying about whether or not this girl is Hermione when the chances of her being Hermione are slim to none."
"What do you want to do, Harry?" Sirius said.
"I don't know," he said, pacing back and forth. "I mean, if there's a chance that this is her, I should follow it, shouldn't I?"
"You'll do the right thing," Sirius said. "You always do."
"Oh, that's a big help," Harry said angrily. "Thanks for your wisdom and guidance, godfather."
"I can't tell you what to do," Sirius said. "I never could. You've always been one to follow your heart. When has that let you down?"
Harry leaned back against the house. Sirius patted him on the shoulder before walking back into the house. Harry stood out there, looking up at the sky, for a few moments.
Stars, he couldn't help thinking. He remembered that night back in Atlanta when they'd went to the planetarium.
Flashback
She took me over to one of the telescopes and we took turns looking up into the stars, trying to point out the different planets and constellations we could see. Hermione was taking another turn looking into the telescope when she gasped.
"That sky is amazing," she said. "Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?"
I looked at her, her face beaming and her cheeks flushed from the cold. Her hair was blowing in the breeze and the moonlight shining down on her, seemed to illuminate her.
"No," I said, looking at her. I knew, right then, that Hagrid had been right. Lupin had been right. They'd known all along, what I'd been too stupid and blind to see. She was a wonderful girl. She was a wonderful girl that I was falling in love with. Correction, she was a wonderful girl that I knew I was in love with. "I've never seen anything more beautiful, Hermione."
She took her eyes away from the telescope and stared at me. I had been looking right at her as I said that.
"You weren't even looking up at the sky," she said.
"I wasn't talking about the sky," I said.
A smile played at the corner of her lips. I hoped I hadn't made her uncomfortable by what I'd just said.
"Oh," she said.
I looked around at the other people situated around the grounds. A number of people had joined in at the dancing.
"Would you like to dance?" I asked her, extending my hand to her.
She smiled. "I thought you didn't dance."
"I don't, usually," I said. "For you, I'm willing to make an exception."
She stood there, staring at me.
"Don't leave me hanging, here, Hermione," I said, holding out my other hand to her. "It's embarrassing. If you're worried that I'm going to step on your toes, don't be. You have my word that I promise to try my best and not step on your toes."
She laughed. "Okay. You should be worried about your toes," she said. "I'm a menace on a dance floor. You could ask Viktor Krum. I think I stepped on his toes so much he had a limp by the end of the Yule Ball."
"Come on, Hermy-own-ninny," I said, taking her hand and leading her to the middle of the grounds.
She laughed and as we stood there listening to the music, we looked around nervously. She hesitantly put her hands on my shoulders and I, just as nervously, put my hands around her waist. Our faces were inches apart as we began to sway to the music. Within seconds, we were comfortable with each other and with the closeness of each other. She pressed her head to my shoulder. For the first time, in a long, long time, I felt light-hearted. I didn't have a concern in the world, save for the girl who was in my arms. I could smell the scent of her shampoo and it was nearly intoxicating.
Holding her in my arms, I almost felt as if I couldn't breathe. I moved my hands from her waist to her back and she, in turn, wrapped her arms tight around me. It was almost as if we were all alone, in our own little world.
She lifted her head from my shoulder and our faces were inches apart.
"Are you cold?" I asked her, looking down into her eyes.
She shook her head.
"I feel warm," she said, looking into my eyes. I felt as if my knees were going to give way at any moment. "I feel warm all over and safe."
"You are safe," I said. "I'd never let anything happen to you. You know that don't you?"
She nodded. "Harry."
"Hermione," I whispered, feeling as if I was going to burst if I didn't kiss her.
I could feel her breath on my cheeks. She was so close. I leaned in towards her and felt my heart racing as my lips met hers in a soft kiss. We pulled away, both somewhat shocked at what had just happened, but still holding on tightly to each other and not breaking eye contact.
Before I could catch my breath, we were kissing again, this time it was much more intense. When we pulled away from each other, I felt dizzy and breathless. I rested my forehead on hers and we stood there for a long time, holding each other.
"See," she finally said. "I said you weren't terrible at kissing."
(END OF FLASHBACK)
He and Hermione had spent a number of wonderful times together underneath the stars.
Then, of course, that was that night in the Astronomy Tower when they'd had their "wedding".
He couldn't help remembering the words he'd said to her that night. He couldn't help remembering what he'd promised her that night.
(FLASHBACK)
He joined her inside the circle and took her hands in his. He smiled at her nervously before beginning to speak.
"People spend forever searching and looking, on a journey to nowhere. And you know what? I guess that could've been me, except I found you. And now I know that my journey began and is going to end with you. I bet you're wondering, maybe, what this stones are for -"
"Yes," Hermione whispered.
"Well, the thing is that I don't have a ring that I could give you, so this is sort of like the same thing. I mean, it's not 14-karat gold or anything like that, but it's the best that I could do. It represents the bond of our love---an infinite circle without beginning or end, never to be broken. Hermione Elizabeth Granger, I promise that I will carry our love with me forever. We will be joined together as one for now and into eternity."
She beamed at him as he leaned in and kissed her softly.
"Wait," she said. "You're not supposed to do that until after."
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Couldn't help myself."
"Well, I don't know how I could follow that," she said, letting go of his hands for a moment to wipe a tear away from her cheek. She took his hands in hers and then spoke her own vows.
"I knew from the first moment I met you that you would be someone special in my life. I didn't know how special you'd become to me, but I knew deep down inside my heart that we would mean something to each other, somehow. In the years that I've known you, you've never ceased to amaze me at how compassionate and kind and caring you are. With everything that's happened, you still have this great capacity to love and it's been an amazing thing to witness. I have never known anyone like you, Harry. You are the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of before I go to sleep. I can't imagine what my life would have been like if you hadn't been in it. I don't know how much time we have, but I do know that it was well spent because I spent it with you. So, Harry James Potter, I promise to carry your love with me forever. My heart and soul belong to you from now into eternity."
By the time she'd finished speaking, Harry too, had tears in his eyes.
Hermione looked at him expectantly.
"You can kiss me now," she said. "If you want to, that is."
He nodded and kissed her. They held on to each other for the longest time.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you," she replied.
(END OF FLASHBACK)
"Harry?"
"Hmmm?" he said, startled.
It was Maggie.
"You look deep in thought there, mister," she said. "I have been told to bring the guest of honor inside for the grand feast."
"Okay," he said, trying to smile at her.
"You okay?" she asked him, hooking her arm through his.
"Yeah," he lied, walking with her back into the house.
Kings Cross Station---The next morning…
"So you have everything?" Maggie asked him.
"Yeah," he said. "I've got everything, Mum."
"Sorry," Maggie said, sheepishly. "I wish I could go on to the platform with you, but I've really got to make that meeting. Arthur's going to need my research notes."
"Go ahead," Harry said. "I'm a big boy. I think I can make the train by myself."
"Okay," she said. "I'll miss you."
"Yeah, me too," he said.
He kissed her and watched as she walked away. He stood there for a few moments. He'd loaded his trunk onto a trolley and he pushed it through the station. His mind was racing. He hadn't slept at all last night. He wasn't tired, though, surprisingly.
He hadn't been able to think of anything else since speaking to Neville yesterday morning.
He looked down at his watch and noticed the time was 8:55 a.m. His train would be leaving in less than five minutes. He pushed his trunk toward the platform. He had made his decision. He was going to Scotland. He had a new life now. He had to concentrate on that. This was a great opportunity for him. He had to do this.
And then he heard that voice in his head again. "She never gave up on you, did she?"
He stopped, dead in his tracks and approached the ticket counter. "Excuse me, can I exchange this ticket?"
The woman behind the counter took his ticket. "Are you sure you don't want to go to Scotland?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "I'm positive."