Okay, it's beta appreciation time. A good beta helps you with your grammar, and a great beta gives you story ideas as well as grammar help. But my beta gives me the confidence I need to post the wild and crazy thoughts that come into my head on top of everything else that a great beta does. If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't be reading this.
**************
The walk back to the house was without words. Hermione had sat and consoled Harry for almost an hour in front of his parents' grave. He talked openly about how much he would have loved to know his parents and how he wished he could remember more about them. Hermione had been unsure of how to respond, but soon found that her just being there was good enough for him. She simply listened and offered comfort; it was obvious that these feelings had been bottled up inside him for years, and she felt honored that he chose to share them with her.
After returning to the house, Harry immediately walked to the kitchen and downed a large glass of water before supporting himself with his arms on the counter and his head bowed. He was emotionally drained. Seeing his parents' final resting place had given him closure, but he was now faced with a whole new set of emotions that were threatening to overtake him. The main problem, however, was that he couldn't put a finger on what new emotions were at play. If he knew what they were, he could sort them out, but instead he felt helpless.
Hermione came into the kitchen a few minutes later to see him leaning over the counter. She slowly came to his side and ran her hand up and down his back. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"I will be, but I think right now I could use a nap. I didn't get much sleep last night," he replied, turning to her as his hands found hers.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, you've already done so much for me today. I don't think I could have gone there by myself. Thank you for just being there. I need a little time to let everything sink in and then I'll be fine."
The small smile on Harry's face didn't fool Hermione for a second. Seven years of friendship told her that everything he said was true, but that he was holding something back. However, she could see just how much being in the cemetery had affected him and decided to let it go.
"You're sure?" she asked.
"I'm sure. Make yourself at home and I'll be down in a while."
Hermione nodded, and Harry leaned down and gave her a quick kiss before going upstairs to his bedroom. After seeing him disappear upstairs, Hermione decided to check out the library more thoroughly.
**************************
Harry plopped down on his bed face down and immediately started trying to decipher what was going on in his head. There was no question that he had finally reconciled how he felt about his parents' death, but now something else was tugging at him.
Rolling over and staring at the ceiling, he decided to start from the beginning. Having Hermione there with him meant more than he would ever be able to tell her. He couldn't help but think of the future they could have together. If he thought hard enough, he could see the two of them welcoming grandchildren into their home and spoiling them, as grandparents tend to do. More than anything, he wanted the opportunity to spend a long life with the woman he loved, and to experience all the moments his parents weren't given the chance to experience.
Then there was Voldemort. Harry had no doubt in his mind that he was dead and gone, but he couldn't help worrying that some Death Eater would get a wild hair up their butt and try to continue where Voldemort left off. It disturbed him greatly that Death Eaters were still running around free, and Harry knew that he would be at the top of the list if one of the remaining Death Eaters came into power.
The realization came then, and it hit him hard. The feeling that had gripped him on the walk home from the cemetery was fear. It was the fear of never having a normal life, of losing everyone important to him, and most of all, of leaving those people behind if anything happened to him. It was a horrible feeling, and for a brief moment he questioned his decision to let Hermione and Ron back into his life. He couldn't, however, deny the fact that the last two days with Hermione had been the best he'd had in a long time. He was able to be more open with her during that short time than he had ever been while they were at Hogwarts. It was like a whole new beginning for them, and the fact that they were best friends only made it better.
As much as Harry wanted to protect Hermione and keep her out of harm's way, he knew that he couldn't push her away now that she was back in his life. Somehow he knew that she wouldn't be so forgiving the second time around. He also knew that he needed her more than anything else. She knew how to comfort him, and she could usually do it without saying a word; her presence alone was comforting. Most of all, he couldn't forget what she had said to him last night: "I've always been here, Harry, and I always will be." Her words repeated in his head, and despite his fears, gave him the ability to fall into a peaceful sleep.
********************
Hermione walked into the library after Harry went upstairs and began to look over the shelves of books. She was intrigued by the fact that Harry had a small collection of books on Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, especially since he never took either of those subjects while at Hogwarts.
As she moved to a small shelf that was situated over the writing desk in the corner, her eyes fell upon a book with no writing on the spine. Curious, she grabbed the book from the shelf and examined it. It was a leather-bound book, and had the letters HJP embossed in gold foil on the front. She immediately recognized it as the journal she had given Harry for Christmas during their seventh year. Opening the cover, Hermione found the note she had written to him:
Harry-
This is the friend that will always listen and never talk back or question your motives. But always remember that I'll be there to listen when you need someone to talk back and question your motives.
Love always,
Hermione
Hermione remembered how grateful Harry looked when she gave him the journal. He had joked about how good she was at questioning motives and talking back. They laughed together, and then he gave her a big hug, saying it was the best gift anyone had ever given him.
As she quickly thumbed through the pages, she noticed how full they were with writing, and she became conflicted. This is personal, Hermione thought. If he wants me to know about anything he wrote in here, he'll tell me. Then again, it wasn't exactly hidden. Maybe he wanted me to find it. I'll just read a few entries.
Having made her decision, Hermione got comfortable on the sofa and opened the book to the first entry.
10 June 1998
I just returned from a meeting with Dumbledore and Sirius about the vision I had last night about dueling Voldemort. Sirius was upset that I was so calm about facing him, but Dumbledore seemed to understand. As difficult as it is to keep from Sirius (and Ron and Hermione, for that matter), I'm glad Dumbledore and I agreed to keep the specifics of the prophecy a secret. I don't want any of them to worry about me any more than they already do. If they did know, it would only be more difficult for them when this is all over, and I care for them too much to put them through even more pain.
After the meeting, Sirius walked me back to Gryffindor Tower, and we stopped for a moment to chat. He sensed a bit of hesitation in my voice earlier, and came to the conclusion that I was in love. He's right, but what troubles me is that he seemed to know that I'm in love with Hermione, even though I never mentioned her name. She doesn't know, obviously, but Sirius strongly suggested that I tell her how I feel. He has a point, but I don't want to hurt her. It wouldn't be fair to her to put myself out there and then leave her, especially when I probably won't return. I love her too much to cause her any more pain, and no good could come from telling her.
I have a week before I leave, and Dumbledore suggested that I not say anything to anyone until then. Maybe I'll change my mind about telling Hermione how I feel, but I can't see myself doing so. We'll see.
Hermione looked over the first entry in Harry's journal with surprise. She had no idea that he had met with Dumbledore and Sirius about Voldemort. She remembered that night; he said he was studying in the library. His eyes had an odd look about them that night, but by the time she had a chance to talk to him the next morning, he seemed completely normal.
She turned the page to the next entry, and held her breath for a moment when she recognized the date.
17 June 1998
Okay, so I changed my mind. I went to her room under my Invisibility Cloak with the sole purpose of just watching her for a few minutes before I left for Little Hangleton, but for reasons I may never understand, I ended up telling her that I love her. No, that I'm in love with her. I don't remember most of our conversation, but I do remember her kissing me. I'm too ashamed to say it, but all the excuses I gave her for holding back were a feeble attempt on my part to disguise the fact that I was scared that Mione didn't feel the same way. And now that I know she does, I feel more than a little guilty about leaving her.
She asked me to stay with her, which caught me off guard. I could see the desperation in her eyes, and I'm sure I insulted her when I turned her down. Up to that point, it was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I couldn't, with a good conscience, sleep with her and run off the next morning, knowing full well that it would probably be the only night we spent together. At the time the only thing I could think about was the prophecy and my agreement with Dumbledore to keep it secret.
So, I walked out the door. I could feel the pain she was in, because I was, am, in pain, too. But not because of what happened while I was in her room, but what happened after I left. It changed everything. After I put my cloak back on, I stood there next to the door for a few minutes, trying to get the strength to leave. I could hear Mione crying, and I wanted nothing more than to walk back in there and make it better, but my head wasn't cooperating with my heart. I turned back around to face the door, and she was staring into my eyes (even though she thought I was long gone) and said that she loved me. I turned away immediately. Not because I was scared, but because I now know what I have to do. Voldemort doesn't stand a chance. I WILL find a way to beat him, and he won't be a thorn in my side anymore.
Hermione swiped at her eyes as she took in the full meaning of what Harry had written. He had gone into her room having resigned himself to death, and left with the resolve to defeat Voldemort. It shocked her to find out that he had heard her say that she loved him, and that she had been looking right into his eyes when she said it. But at the same time, her stomach turned over at the idea that she was the reason he was able to believe that he could defeat Voldemort.
Hermione smiled at the thought that she had that kind of effect on Harry, and turned to the next entry, dated four days later.
21 June 1998
10:15 a.m.
The fact that I'm lying here in St. Mungo's recovering must mean that Voldemort is gone. The last thing I remember is performing the Killing Curse, and then collapsing from what I assume was exhaustion. I have no idea how I got here, who found me, or what happened to all the Death Eaters, but I'm sure I'll find out.
Defeating Voldemort came at a great personal cost. Sirius showed up at dawn of the third day, thinking that he was helping me out. He was captured by the Death Eaters, and brought to Voldemort, who immediately used him as a hostage. I was given a choice: surrender or he would kill Sirius. I honestly can't recall all the thoughts that were running through my head at the time, but Sirius was adamant that I not surrender. I considered it, but took too long to think about it. Before I could do anything about it, Sirius was gone. And more blood on my hands. I can't help but blame myself. He was there because he thought I needed help, but if he'd known about the prophecy, he would have let me finish it the way it was supposed to be finished. Sirius would still be here, and I wouldn't feel like I've committed partial suicide.
I imagine the Ministry will want a detailed account of our duel, but after that I will speak of it no more. The guilt will be with me forever.
3:00 p.m.
Professor Dumbledore stopped in a few minutes ago. I wish I could say that we had a nice conversation, but the truth is that he did most of the talking while I stared into space. I know he's just trying to help, but I'm afraid I just wasn't in the mood to listen. He did tell me that Sirius left all his belongings to me in his will. Grimmauld Place and all the contents of his vault in Gringotts are now mine. Dumbledore gave me an envelope with my name on it before leaving. I could tell immediately that it was from Sirius.
Hermione noticed a folded piece of parchment tucked into the page of the book and opened it. It was a letter from Sirius to Harry.
Harry,
The fact that you're reading this makes me proud to have ever called you my godson. Your parents would be proud of you as well. I wish I could be there to share in the joy of your victory, but it wasn't meant to be. You deserved to have a better godfather than an escape convict from Azkaban, and for that I apologize.
My biggest regret is that I could never give you the home and family that you deserved. I hope one day you can find that one person to make your life complete. You know where to find her; so don't let her get away.
As I'm sure Dumbledore has told you, Grimmauld Place is now yours, as well as my vault at Gringotts. In the vault you will find many of your parents' personal belongings. Hopefully they will answer any questions you may have better than I ever could.
Concerning Grimmauld Place: do with it whatever you wish. I hate to dump the place on you, but the Order no longer has use for it, and I trust your judgment.
Keep your head up, Harry. Your chance to live a normal life is here, so take advantage of it.
Sirius
Hermione once again felt the tears running down her face, but instead of swiping them away, she let them fall. As she was reading the last entry and Sirius' letter, it had come to her attention that Harry's version of what happened to Sirius and what the Ministry had told everyone were completely different. I'll have to check into it, she thought.
She continued to leisurely turn the pages of Harry's journal, and her heart swelled. She was happy that he had an outlet for all the pain he had experienced, even though she wished she could have been the pages.
Some time later, Hermione was jolted out of her deep thought by the sound of Harry coming down the stairs. Before she could make a move to hide the journal, he was standing in the doorway.
"Hi," he said, a small grin forming on his lips.
"Hi. Are you feeling better?" She casually shut the book and set it between her and the couch, hoping he wouldn't notice as he came in and sat next to her.
"Much better. What are you reading?" he asked, making a move for the journal she had tried so much to hide.
"Oh, nothing," she said, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Hermione, you're a terrible liar. If it were nothing, then you wouldn't have stuffed it in the cushion when I walked through the door."
Hermione looked up and realized that he was right. Harry caught her, and she had no choice but to fess up to reading his journal. Keeping her head down, she pulled out the book and handed it to him. When she finally looked at him, his eyes were wide and a smile was on his face.
"What?" she asked.
"Well, if I've read this situation correctly, you're feeling ashamed because you feel that you've invaded my privacy," he began. "Actually, I was meaning to give this to you anyway."
"You were?"
"You're entitled to the best explanation I can give you, Hermione. Everything I wrote in here was written with the full intention of you reading it. I approached it as talking to you about what was on my mind, even though I didn't have the guts to actually talk to you." Harry handed her back the book and wriggled his arm around her waist. "I'll answer any questions you might have, but I hope you understand if I don't go into very much detail. It's not that I don't trust you, but rather that it just hurts too much to discuss them."
Hermione twisted in her seat to look at Harry and saw that he was suddenly fascinated with his hands. She took her left hand and set it on his, and moved her right hand up to his cheek. When their eyes met, Hermione could see the pain. And for the first time in her life, she completely understood.
"Harry…" she began, but her words got lost in his eyes until they were a jumbled up mess. She moved her other hand up so they were now cupping his face, and continued to look into his eyes. She pulled him to her and kissed him hard, feeling like it was the only way she could say what was on her mind.
Harry responded immediately to what she was saying and kissed her back. It wasn't sweet and tender like their other kisses thus far, but passionate and needy. Hermione's hands went around to play with the hair on the back of Harry's neck, which gave Harry the confidence to pull her closer and deepen the kiss.
Harry's arms were rested on her lower back, and to his surprise, she slowly pulled him on top of her as they lay down on the couch. As they continued kissing, Hermione's hands found their way under his T-shirt and began moving along his back. Harry pulled back out of surprise when she did this, but the smile on her face drew him right back to her lips.
Hermione let out a soft moan as Harry's mouth moved down her neck, and she tilted her head back slightly to give him better access. She felt one hand run along her stomach and around to her back, while his other hand played with her hair.
Several minutes later, Harry pulled back once again and looked at Hermione. "Can I ask what brought that on?" he asked curiously.
Hermione propped herself up on her elbows and took a moment to catch her breath before answering. "I'm not sure. I just looked into your eyes and told myself that I had to find some way to take your mind off of everything bad that has happened to you, even if it was only for a few minutes."
"I think you accomplished your goal."
Hermione reached down and picked up the forgotten journal off the floor and held it between them. "You told me the other night that you wanted to take your life back. Everything in here is in the past, Harry, and there's nothing you can do to change it. Leave it behind. Don't ever forget it, but leave it behind."
Harry kissed her and brushed a piece of hair from her face. "You make it sound so easy."
"I have faith in you, Harry."
**********************
Later that evening, Harry and Hermione went upstairs to their bedrooms. Harry mentioned that he wanted to take a shower before going to bed, and Hermione wanted to do some reading from a book she brought with her. As she heard the water begin to run in Harry's bathroom, she began think. It had really felt very natural to be in Harry's bed, even if it was the fact that she was worried about him that put her there in the first place. She was still worried about him; his nightmares seemed to stem from his fear of loneliness, and she couldn't stand to see him that way. Without another thought, Hermione grabbed her book and walked into his room, placing herself on the left side of the bed and marveling at just how right it felt.
Harry walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist. The first thing he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. "Hermione, what…you shouldn't be here."
Hermione stared for a moment before realizing she needed to plead her case. "My bed was cold and uncomfortable, so I thought I'd come in here," she replied, as Harry walked back out of the bathroom, now wearing a T-shirt and boxers.
"I can get you another blanket, or there are two other rooms you can use."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you were trying to kick me out of your room."
"It's not that, Mione, it's just -"
"God, Harry, are you going to make me come right out and say it? I want to be here because it feels right just to be next to you. I don't think I've ever been as peaceful in the morning as I was when I woke up this morning."
Harry sighed and walked around to the other side of the bed, completely surprised at Hermione's words. "I just don't want to make you uncomfortable," he said as he sat down on the bed.
Hermione put down her book and moved over to sit next to him. "I wouldn't be worried about that, if I were you. After all, I was the one who came in here. You haven't done anything to make me feel uncomfortable."
She gave him a quick kiss and moved back to her side of the bed. Harry sat still for a moment before lying down on his back and making sure that he maintained a safe distance between them. His head had been in conflict with the rest of him all day, and he wasn't sure whom he should be listening to. He chanced a glance over to Hermione, who was still sitting up and reading her book. With a smile on his face, he rolled over onto his stomach and glared up at her.
"What?" she asked.
"Don't mind me. I'm just in awe."
Hermione blushed and lay down so she was at eye level with him. "In awe of what?"
"You. I'm in awe that I have this beautiful woman here that continues to surprise and amaze me every day. She's my best friend and the smartest witch I've ever known, and I can't help but wonder what I did to deserve you."
"Harry, you didn't have to do anything. I love you."
"But why…why do you love me? You should be furious with me for not contacting you for a year. I still can't believe that you haven't made mention of it once."
"Oh, believe me, Harry. I tried to be angry. I think at one point I spent a whole afternoon thinking up hexes I'd like to throw at you. But when Hedwig brought that letter from you, I was so happy that you were all right that the anger went away. Because I do love you, Harry, and I can't remember a time when I didn't love you. And I can't put my finger on why; I just know that it's true," she said, as she ran a hand through his hair.
Harry pondered her answer for a moment before replying. "Mione, I've made so many mistakes, especially when it comes to you. And I'm usually not sure about many things, but I am sure that I love you and I'm sure about us."
"Me, too," she replied, and they slowly drifted off to sleep.
*****************
Author's notes: This is the last chapter that I have completed for this fic, but fear not. I'm working on Chapter 8 as we speak.
This chapter also gave you a peak at the journal that Harry kept during his year away. I have another fic that is nothing but these journal entries that I will post if anyone is interested.