Isn't Enough

A/N: I’ve always been a sucker for musicians, so of course I gotta make the main guys in Harry Potter heart throbbing punk rockers! So yeah, that’s where this originated...just my pathetic attempt at trying to further my fantasy of guys. Anyway, I hope you guys have fun. If the idea of Harry Potter singing is too much for you, then too bad! I really hope that you guys review, I’m dying for feedback!

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Isn’t Enough

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summary: After Voldemort is destroyed, Harry loses the one person he cared about most: Hermione. So he dissolves his despair in music. But when he and the Weasleys go to America to compete in “the Battle of the Bands,” who is it that he sees? Hermione. Who has no recollection of Hogwarts, of being a witch, or of Harry. Sometimes, forgetting just isn’t enough.

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Chapter One: Lost Miracles

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(Harry’s PoV)

It all started the night Voldemort attacked.

Destined to either fall or conquer, Voldemort attacked Hogwarts Castle the night of my graduation. Everyone had been celebrating, until that faithful time when the doors burst open and a shadow sprawled against the golden walls.

“D-Draco?” Ginny asked tentatively, running to him.

“Ginny!” Hermione had screamed, until Draco was knocked down and deatheaters ran into the Great Hall, shooting killing curses and torturous charms towards the fleeing students.

Draco had been the first casualty of the beginning battle of the last war of our time.

That was the night that proved to be the deciding turn in all our lives.

And I had lost the one thing I held dearest.

~-~-~-~-~-~

“Ginny?” I asked quietly, noticing her red eyes and trembling body. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” she muttered, wiping her eyes on the backs of her sleeves. “Just had a nightmare, that’s all.” I nodded, leaning my elbows on the table and motioning for her to sit next to me.

“About that night?” I whispered, and she swallowed, a new wave of tears washing over her. “Oh, Gin...” I enveloped her in a hug, rubbing her back as she sobbed into my chest.

“It wasn’t fucking fair,” I heard her whisper. “He...”

“It was the risk he knew he was taking,” I replied, sighing. “He knew what he was up against the moment he decided to betray his father.”

“B-but he did it b-because of me!” Ginny sobbed harder, her hands fisting my shirt. “I-if I wasn’t in this, th-then he would s-still be–”

“A deatheater and completely miserable,” I finished for her, my voice turning stern. “You were the only good thing in his life, don’t you ever think that without you he would be okay.”

“O-okay,” Ginny whispered, hurriedly stroking her hair out of her face as she backed away from me. After a moment of silence, she asked, “So what are you doing up this late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I muttered, twirling my spoon in my cup of hot chocolate.

“You had a nightmare too?” she asked timidly, and I nodded. She sighed, gazing out the window as she crossed her arms. “We’re two peas in a pod,” she added hesitantly.

“Hm?”

“We both lost that one person that night,” Ginny whispered, her voice cracking. She turned towards me then, peering into my startled green eyes. “Any update on her?”

“No.”

“Oh...”

“But you knew that already.” Ginny shrugged, turning her head back to the window.

“Miracles happen, you never know.”

“I gave up on miracles a long time ago,” I answered, my jaw clenching painfully.

“You know what’s the sad part?” Ginny stated after a moment of silence, still staring out the window.

“What.”

“There’s still a part of me waiting for him to come back.” She turned to look at me then, a single tear running down her cheek.

“That’s not that sad, Gin.”

“It is. I held his dead body in my hands, Harry. I know he’s gone, that he can’t come back. I guess I just have trouble letting go.”

“We all have that same problem,” I muttered, my eyes fixated on a floating marshmallow. “Sometimes, forgetting just isn’t enough.”

“But who wants to forget?” Ginny whispered as she rubbed her arms. “It’s just the moving on that gets to me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get over Draco.”

“You’ll find someone, Gin. It’s not a matter of replacing him. It’s a matter of finding someone else that you can love, alongside Malfoy.”

“You think you could ever do that with Hermione?” she asked, staring me down. I clenched my jaw, my mind working heavily until I sighed, shaking my head.

“No.”

“Well then,” Ginny replied, a smirk of success flirting with her lips. “There we go.”

~-~-~-~-~-~

“You know, Harry, we’re getting quite good.” Harry turned around to look at Ron, who was adjusting a string on his guitar.

“What?”

“There’s this muggle thing, ‘Battle of the Bands,’ it’s where all these bands compete and the best one wins and gets money. Susan was telling me about it. You know how she moved to America after everything. Well, she told me that her cousin was helping running it and she remembered our band during graduation.”

“What, you mean when–”

“You have to admit, we were good.” I didn’t reply. “I think it’d be bloody amazing to go and compete. It’ll be a nice reminder of those Quidditch days.”

“I don’t know, Ron,” I said.

“Oh come on Harry, what do we have to lose?”

“We don’t even have a real band together.”

“Sure we do,” Ron muttered, his brow furrowed as he tweaked his strings. “We got you on vocals, me on guitar, George on bass, Fred on guitar, and Ginny on drums.” I snorted.

“I’m no singer.” After a moment of silence, I added, “Where is this ‘Battle’ at, exactly?”

“America. C’mon Harry, you know you’ve always wanted to visit there.”

“We so have to go to America together, Harry! I can visit my relatives, you just have to meet my Aunt Cindy, she’s hilarious. Oh and we can go to Washington DC, the Smithsonian museums are absolutely amazing, and the national archives, they have the Declaration of....”

“Yeah, I used to want to go,” I growled out.

“Come on Harry,” Ron said, gently, noticing the look in my eyes. “It would be a break.”

“From what,” I asked, but I knew the answer. Sighing, I shook my head, frowning. “Fine.”

“Now all we need is some serious music.”

“I’ve got some,” I replied, taking out a crumpled piece of paper from my back pocket and tossing it to Ron.

“Wow...” Ron muttered, his eyes raking the lyrics. “This is some powerful shit.”

“Yeah, well...I had a lot to work with.”

~-~-~-~-~-~

“I can’t believe we’re here,” Fred said, twirling his wand around his fingers as he stared at awe at New York City. “Bloody amazing...”

“Now all we have to do is get on the Bill,” Ron muttered, glancing around.

“The bill?” Ginny asked, her brown eyes narrowing. “What the hell is that?”

“It isn’t a problem, all we gotta do is perform for some people and we’re a shoe in.”

“So wait, there’s not even a sure chance that we’re even going to compete?” George complained.

“No pain, no gain.”

“Oh shut up.”

~-~-~-~-~-~

“1.”

“2.”

“3.”

“4.”

“Here I am...” I started off, my eyes clenched closed as I grasped the microphone tightly in my hand. “All alone....I’m drifting to a place unknown...” Ginny chimed, followed by Ron’s guitar melody. “Just watch me...And you, will see....this ain’t who I’m meant to be...” I opened my eyes for a second, smiling at the sight I saw. Seeing the Weasleys totally absorbed in their music is a sight.

“Just let me in...and I will prove...that from my life I can’t remove...you...” Ginny’s hands blurred as she pounded her drums, Ron’s body rocking to the music.

“Cause I’ve tried my hardest! I’ve done all that I could! Forgetting you was never easy...I can’t erase you...from...my world...and all the meaning you’ve unfurled...cause baby when it comes to this...I live off your kiss...”

“Stop, stop, stop,” a man yelled from the side, and my eyes snapped open as I was jolted back to reality.

“Well?” I heard Fred ask. I was still trying to regain my composure.

“You’re in,” he said, jotting something down. “We just didn’t want to spoil it for the final presentation,” he added, grinning. “That’s some nice shit. Who’s wrote it?”

“I did,” I croaked out.

“You’ve got talent,” was all he had to say to me.

It was a moment later, or so it felt like, when I stepped into the sunlight. Breathing in deeply, I smiled, amazed at what had just happened in there.

“Hey, Harry?” I heard Ginny say tentatively. Turning around, I noticed her smiling face.

“Yeah?”

“I agree with that guy in there....those are some powerful lyrics.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry,” Fred said to me seriously as he clapped my shoulder. “It’ll all work out.” I knew he didn’t mean the competition.

“Yeah.” It was then that something caught my eye. A poster promoting a concert from across the street, plastered on a building I assumed to be a concert hall.

“What’s that,” I asked as I took a good look, my voice cracking. Ron, who looked across the street as well, shrugged and said, “I guess just a concert hall.”

“No...I mean the poster...” I couldn’t believe it, felt my eyes go dry from the lack of blinking but couldn’t close my eyes in fear that the picture would disappear. “The girl...”

“Bloody fucking Merlin,” I heard George say. “Is that...nah...”

“What? What are you guys talking about?” Ginny squeaked.

“No...” Ron chimed in, his eyes going wide. “No fucking way...”

“What! What are you guys talking about!” I licked my lips before answering, my throat suddenly turning dry.

“Hermione...”

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reviewing’s good for the soul...

The real HOPE, sry, but some background is going to have to wait till later. I hope you won’t mind too terribly much!

Dunetoo20, to be perfectly honest, I’m not quite used to having Harry singing either! But that’s allright, I’m hoping to get comfortable with that soon, lol.

Ashley, I’m glad you like the music and lyrics. Thanks for the compliments about the lyrics!

Thanks to SilverMoonlight, tracie1976, traydrvic, HnH4EvA19, phoewolfnix, Kaydeek70, kw702955, KypDurron, mikeus, skellig, PilarMagic, and kensit for your supporting comments!

Thanks to all you anonymous reviewers as well!

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Isn’t Enough

Chapter Two: Found

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(Harry)

I could hear the mutters and cursings of the Weasleys standing beside me, but I paid no attention. The only thing I could focus on was the poster across from me, the poster of a girl playing the cello. Before I could comprehend what I was doing I was walking across the street, oblivious to the traffic.

“Harry!” I heard Ginny’s voice scream, faintly, as if from a distance.

I stepped up to the poster, my eyes raking the image in front of me. It was a young girl about our age, with curly brown hair cascading down her back, gentle brown eyes peering down at her music, a cello snuggled in between her legs as her face was set in beautiful concentration.

It was Hermione. I traced her face with my hand, lost for words. I felt Ron’s presence beside me, his breathing a steady tempo.

“It’s her,” I muttered, breathless.

“I know,” was the only thing Ron could say. “I know.”

We stood there for a while, after the rest of the Weasleys had joined us, staring at the poster.

“C’mon Harry, we better get going,” Fred said hesitantly.

“No, I think I’m going to stay here. I’ll meet you guys back home soon.”

“Harry, you–”

“I’ll meet up with you guys later,” I said again, a little more forcefully. They nodded, and after walking into an empty alley, apparated to a portkey point.

“You want me to stay with you, Harry?” Ron asked, setting a hand on my shoulder.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I muttered, smiling at him.

“Bring her back to us, Harry,” Ron replied, his voice cracking. I nodded.

It’s all I could do.

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(Hermione)

“Good, good job,” our conductor said as he stopped us. I had been in rehearsal for hours now, getting ready for my concert tomorrow as a solo cello with the New York philharmonic orchestra. “I think that’s enough,” he finally said, staking his music in his bag as he motioned for us to leave.

I nodded, packing away my things and setting my cello gently in its holder. As I rolled my cello out I opened the front door, smiling at the sun and enjoying the breeze. As I was about to turn left and walk to my apartment I heard someone yell, “Hermione!”

For some reason, I turned around instinctively. Startled at what I had just done I searched for a familiar face. “Hermione!” a raven haired man yelled again, running to me. Suddenly I was enveloped in a hug, his face buried in my hair.

“Get the hell away from me!” I screamed, pushing him away.

“Hermione!” he said, and I saw that he had tears in his eyes. “It’s me!”

“I don’t know who me is,” I snapped, angrily pushing the hair out of my face. “Who do you think you are, mauling me on the street! I don’t know who the fuck you are!”

“You...you don’t recognize me?” he whispered, his eyes wide. “It’s me, Hermione! Harry!”

“I don’t know a Harry,” I said, turning away from him.

“Wait!” he screamed, grabbing my arm. “Don’t you remember me? Hermione! It’s Harry! Harry Potter!”

“Get off of me!” I screamed, trying to get him off.

“You’re name’s Hermione Jane Granger,” he said, hurriedly. “You were born September 19. You’re a Gryffindor, you went to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for seven years, you were my best friend! You’re favorite color is blue, you love reading a big, dusty book by the fireplace with a cup of chocolate cocoa with three marshmallows and Crookshanks at your feet, Hermione, you–”

“Stop calling me that!” I finally wrenched my arm out of his grasp. I was breathing heavily, and as I raised my eyes to tell him off, I caught sight of his brilliant, bright green eyes.

“I love you, Hermione,” he whispered, his eyes staring into mine as he leaned in for a kiss...

“Stop it!” I screamed, backing away from him. Where the hell had that memory come from? The guy, who I presumed was Harry, stepped towards me, his mouth set in a grim line.

“You...seriously don’t remember,” he muttered, and I could hear the despair in his voice.

“Well...” I began, tugging on a lock of hair. “I–”

“Lucy?” I twirled around, glad to finally see someone that proved to me the stability of my life.

“George,” I said, hugging him. He leaned in for a kiss and I gave him a peck, noticing Harry’s shoulders go rigid from the corner of my eye.

“Who’s this?” George asked, eyeing the man behind me.

“Oh, he was just, um–”

“I’m Harry Potter,” he said, raising his hand to shake George’s. “I’m a childhood friend of Herm–Lucy’s. We used to go to school together.”

“Oh, of course,” he said, smiling at me. “So, what school was this? Lucy has yet to tell me.”

Please, oh Merlin please...

“We went to Hogwarts, a...uh...private school in London,” Harry said, looking at me intently. “The outskirts of London.”

“Oh, that would explain the English accent,” George said, laughing. I saw Harry’s shoulders tense up even more, before he swallowed and curled up his fists.

“Can I ask, George, exactly who you are to Lucy?” I heard him ask.

“Oh, well, of course you can,” George replied, grinning. “I’m Lucy’s fiancé.”

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(Harry)

I portkeyed to England, apparating a half mile to stand right in front of the Burrow property. Sticking my hands in my pockets I walked in, my hair obscuring my vision.

“Harry?” I heard Ron’s voice. I turned around to find Ron sitting in an armchair in front of the fire, a book in his hand. I recognized the book immediately. Hogwarts, a History. I smiled involuntarily.

“Hey, Ron.”

“How...how are you?” I sighed, my gaze wandering to the fire.

In an empty voice, I recited, “Her name’s Lucy Crimson.”

“What?”

“She’s a solo cellist and principle cellist of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. She lives in New York City and she’s...” I swallowed, walking to the chair opposite Ron’s and sitting down. “And she’s engaged to George Handerson.”

“Harry, what the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“She doesn’t remember a damn thing, Ron,” I whispered, my eyes clenched shut.

“No...but Hermione, she’s...you sure it was her?”

“You honestly think I could confuse her for some random girl?” Ron fell silent then, shaking his head.

“She must’ve lost her memory, then,” Ron answered, turning his attention back to the fire.

“But we can’t do anything about that, Ron,” I muttered, sobs begging to come out. “She has a new life now. She’s forgotten about us. We don’t mean a damn thing to her anymore...”

“Come on Harry,” Ron whispered, walking towards me. “You and I both know the second Hermione remembers, she’ll come running back. She loved you... whoever this George fellow is, she doesn’t care about him that much”

“It’s been four years, Ron,” I managed to get out as tears stained my face. “Four fucking years. If she can’t remember in four years...then...”

“It’s because there’s been nothing to trigger her memories,” a voice said. Ginny walked into the room then, her hand settling itself on my shoulder. “Amnesia requires one to be forced to remember...in America, she doesn’t have anything that would remind her of her old life.”

I didn’t answer. Ron sighed, picking up Hermione’s book gingerly as he ran his hand across the cover softly.

“I have a potion you could give her, Harry. It was recently made to reverse the effects of amnesia; a coworker of mine at St. Mungo’s discovered it.

“I doubt she’d want to take it, at least from a complete...stranger...” I spat the last word out as if it was poison.

“Harry,” Ron whispered. “Where did you say she lived?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t bother to ask,” I replied. Ron looked at me, scrutinizing, until he dropped the book and walked to me in two strides, taking a hold of my cloak and pushing me against the wall.

“Ron!” Ginny screamed, looking at him in surprise. “What the bloody hell–”

“You bloody bastard!” Ron yelled at me, his face masking anger.

“What the fucking hell are you talking about!” I screamed back, but not being nearly as tall as Ron I couldn’t fight him.

“You’re not the only one hurting here Harry!” Ron yelled, nearly spitting in outrage. “When Hermione disappeared, you’re not the only one who was bloody affected!” Ron let go of me then, backing away slowly. “You finally found her, and you’re just going to give up? You care about her that little?”

“Don’t you ever say that to me,” I muttered, glaring at Ron. “I love her!”

“Then fucking show it!” Ron screamed. “You’re just going to give up, just let things be?! I’m going to go to New York City and remind Hermione exactly who she is, who she was! I’m going to bring her back, and if you choose to sit here and blubber, so be it!”

“She doesn’t care about us anymore, Ron!” I yelled back. “She has a new life now! She has George! She doesn’t need us!”

“She has a fake life now, Harry,” Ron whispered, his eyes continuing to glare at me. “Nobody is anything without his past. And Hermione, that’s the one thing she doesn’t have. We owe it to her to at least give her the choice. And if she chooses her new one, so be it. But I’m telling you now, Harry, you’re a fucking coward if you’re not going to do anything about it.”

Ginny, who had watched the entire thing, took a vial out of her pocket and gave it to me. I stared at it in my hand, its pearly blue color reflecting against my hand.

“So what do you say, Harry,” Ron finally said, picking up Hermione’s book and putting it in the bag he conjured up. Walking around the room he also picked up her wand, and walking up to the fireplace, took a few framed photographs.

I remained silent for a bit, staring at the vial, until I got up, facing Ron.

“Let’s go.”

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reviewing’s good for the soul...

Thanks to kensit, Hermione’s Phoenix (I hope this chapter’s length makes you happy! If not, say so!), LisaGrint2, Dannie_Dumbledore, fenriswolf, Chariot, HnH4EvA19, starr22, Sk8erWitch, Jenna Kathleen, Kaydeek70, phoewolfnix, twistedbutsane55, KypDurron, kw702955, and anonymous for your reviews!

Sorry it took so long. School just ended for me (I hate finals! Gah!) But now that I have some on my hands, expect that I’ll be updating my stories much more often! Sorry, also, that I couldn’t personalize my thank-you’s too much–wanted to get this out as fast as I could!

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Isn’t Enough

Chapter 3: Confusion

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(Harry)

Ron and I apparated and portkeyed to New York city once more the following day. Ginny had convinced us that we couldn’t do a thing knocking on her door 1 a.m. in the morning but make everything worse, and possibly get the police involved. Walking to the concert hall we had seen earlier we stood outside, watching people dressed in suits and dresses walking into the golden entrance.

“Maybe we should buy a ticket,” I said, staring at the poster of Hermione. Ron glanced at it and nodded.

We sat in the red seats, a perfect view of the stage beneath us. After fifteen minutes composed of me shredding the program into tiny pieces of paper and Ron continuing to repair it for me with a whisper and a wave of his wand, the lights finally began to dim slightly. I fidgeted in my seat nervously, my heart pounding in my ears.

A figure walked onto the stage, and although Ron and I had bought the cheapest tickets in the house, I knew exactly who it was. Hermione, dressed in black pants and a white button up blouse with her hair tied back elegantly...she had never looked as appealing. I felt Ron stiffen up beside me and I knew he recognized her as well. For a tiny second I thought she glanced up in our direction but I must have imagined it. We were so far back, she wouldn’t be able to see us. Besides, she wouldn’t know Ron.

That idea kicked me in the gut.

Applause sprang up as she took a seat in the middle of the stage and the rest of the orchestra ensembled around her. She gave a nod to the conductor who nodded back and she raised her bow, her eyes closed as she sprang into the opening of the concerto.

After an hour and a half, with four rounds of applause in between, my hands felt numb. She finally stood up, bowing slightly as everyone around us erupted into excited clapping. Ron stood up, wooting as if at a quidditch game, but no one took notice. I actually laughed...it’s been a long time since that’s happened. He gave me a startled look, grinning as I bended over, overwhelmed with laughter.

And as I wiped away tears of mirth, my eyes glanced to the stage. Hermione had stopped at the edge of the stage and her stare was trained on me, her eyes wide. I straitened up, looking around but she continued to gaze at me, her brown eyes wide and fearful.

Fearful. She was scared.

Oh bloody hell.

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(Hermione)

I had just finished my concert for the night and I had gotten up, gracefully holding my cello and taking a slight bow. As I began to walk to the edge of the stage I heard a sound amist all the applause. It was a familiar sound, and although it was slight and very distant, I knew immediately what it was.

Harry’s laugh.

When I comprehended what the bloody hell I was thinking my head snapped up and I stopped walking. By pure instinct I looked up and I caught sight of a man laughing, a mop of black hair and those blazing green eyes.

The lunatic who had insisted that I was Hermione Granger.

I stared, completely absorbing the situation. For all I knew, I could be Hermione Granger. I woke up four years ago not knowing anything, wearing robes and a cracked piece of wood underneath me.

I had recognized his voice. I recognized his laugh. I knew who the bloody hell he was without knowing who the bloody hell he was!

I noticed then that he was staring back at me, his green eyes wide as they bore into mine. He was near the back of the concert hall, but that distance meant nothing in that moment of time. It was as if he was standing right in front of me, those eyes drilling into mine with a fierce intensity that made me weak in the knees.

Shaking my head I broke our eye contact, raising my head and continuing to walk off the stage. It must have only lasted a few seconds, but it had elongated to feel as if it had lasted minutes. Minutes of torture.

It was absurd. This entire scenario was absurd. The fact of the matter was, I didn’t need my past. I had George. I had success. I had happiness.

I smiled as I peeked out behind the curtain and saw that the audience was still standing. My conductor motioned to me, giving me a grin as I nodded. Stepping back out I stopped in the middle of the stage and took another bow, the volume of applause immense. I stood up and smiled, absorbing the atmosphere and loving the adrenaline pumping through my veins. This was my life. I didn’t need anything else.

~-~-~-~-~-~

(Ron)

I noticed Harry continue to stare at Hermione, his face sharing expressions of pain and hopefulness. When she had stared up at him, I had to admit that I felt my hope soar. Maybe seeing us had rekindled something, just maybe. But when she tore her eyes away and stuck her nose up in the air like she always would, I knew we had to do more than just magically show up on her doorstep.

She stepped back outside a moment later, a look of pure bliss on her face as she bowed once more. Her smile radiated; it always had. She wore the same expression she did when she first heard of her O.W.L results, when she was made Head Girl, when Harry had told her that he loved her.

As selfish as it was, it hurt to know she could be that blissful without us in her life.

She walked back off the stage and people around us began to get up, scurrying for the exit as they chattered happily about the concert. Harry and I, already up, walked down the aisle as quickly as we could to try and catch her as she left. I just prayed to Merlin that she was going home after the concert.

We waited outside the entrance to the concert hall for a good hour; we were both too stubborn to admit defeat. I was about to suggest that we go home when I saw her round the corner, humming a song I vaguely recognized.

She stopped when she saw us, but she didn’t look at all surprised. It was as if she had been waiting for this moment.

We weren’t that bloody predictable or desperate, were we?

“Hermione,” Harry whispered, getting up from his previous position next to the wall. He gave me a startled look, obviously begging for me to say something.

Walking up to her I grabbed her hand, bringing it to my lips and giving it a chaste kiss.

“Ronald Weasley,” I said, grinning. She gave me a small smile, and I saw a small spark of recognition in her eyes. “And you are...”

“L-Lucy Crimson,” she muttered.

“Are you sure about that?” She hesitated.

It was in that moment that I knew we had a chance.

“Yes...I’m sure.”

“Look...I know we’re asking for a lot. But...just give us a bit of your time. If after that, you...we’ll stop bothering you, after that.” I sighed. I was babbling...not a good sign.

“What exactly are you asking?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. She cocked her head to the side like she usually would when she was waiting for me to ask for her help for another of Snape’s essays...the familiarity was almost unbearable. I wanted to shake her shoulders, scream, demand to know how she could forget. “I’d have to start from the beginning.”

She looked around warily, looking fed up with me. I couldn’t blame her. I was a complete stranger, and I was asking her to stand there and listen to one babble on. But...

“Allright.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“There was this girl I used to know...she was the best friend I ever had,” I whispered, smiling as I imagined her scolding face in my head. “She had quite the temper, such a bossy know-it-all, condescending and had a glare that could turn anyone to ice.” My smile grew. “Harry and I...we both loved her.” I saw her eyes soften from my words. “I didn’t love her like that, though.” Here I laughed, remembering how we used to bicker. “Although Harry did, and she finally admitted to loving him back....if there was ever a perfect couple, it was them.” Harry remained silent throughout my explanation, his eyes cast downward as he shuffled his feet. “There was a war going on at that time, and Harry was a main target. It was against someone called...V-voldemort.” I still stuttered his name. I saw Hermione lower her eyes, her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. “On our graduation night, they finally attacked our school. And as Hermione chased after the wizard who had killed one of our friends, she...” I stopped then, a sad smile adorning my features as I thought of the irony of it all. “She disappeared, after that. We didn’t know what happened to her. Never saw a dead body, a trace. It was as if she had disappeared.”

“What happened?”

“Absolutely nothing. We were devastated...still are, in fact. She was just such a big portion of our lives. It’s been four years, you know. And we’re still not over it. I even cry at night, sometimes.” I gave her a sad smile, her brown eyes gazing into mine. “We came, Harry and I, to New York yesterday. That girl...Hermione...she was on a poster. That one, in fact.” I pointed to the poster behind her and she twirled around, her eyes gazing openly at the picture. “And I came today, to see if it was really her...if it was really you. And it is. I know it’s you.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I really am, but I’m Lucy, I’m not your Hermione–”

“You can’t be sure about that,” I argued. “You don’t remember.”

“Of course I remember,” she said, that ever arrogant rising-of-the-chin reappearing as she stuck her nose in the air.

“No, you don’t,” Harry whispered. “You lost your memory 4 years ago!”

“That has nothing to do with this!” Hermione screamed, fear evident in her eyes.

“It has everything to do with this! If you would just try, Hermione, try and re–”

“I’ve told you, I’m not Hermione! I’m Lucy!” She took in a deep breath then, her lips flapping as she tried to find something to say. Finally finding something, she screamed, “I’m not her! If Hermione truly loved you, then she would remember! Obviously, you mean nothing to me! So I can’t be her! Why can’t you just accept that I don’t love you, don’t even know you, and that you can’t bring Hermione back by pretending she’s me!”

The words slapped Harry in the worst ways possible. His green eyes widened at her remark, his lips set in a grim line.

“Harry,” I croaked out but he shook his head at me.

“It’s uh...fine, Ron. I should’ve known.” Chuckling softly, he ran his fingers through his hair. He walked towards Hermione, and he gently cupped her face with his hands. She looked as if she was about to slap him when his fingers ran over her cheeks, his gaze wandering all over her face. It finally stopped at her eyes where he gazed intensely into them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, so tenderly I barely heard it. A lump was rising in my throat as I saw his shoulders begin to tremble. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, softer. Her lips quivered as she looked into his eyes but he suddenly disappeared with a soft pop.

She stared at me then, tears in her eyes.

“Mr. W-Weasley, I–”

“You know, Harry’s been searching for Hermione ever since he lost her,” I said darkly, trying to hold in my anger. “And when he found you, he thought–we thought–that we had found Hermione again.” I whipped my wand out, my hand trembling as I gripped it. “But you’re right, you aren’t her.” I turned away from her then, gritting my teeth as I muttered, “You couldn’t be her.” I apparated then. The last image I had of Herm–Lucy was of her staring at me wide eyed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

And for once, that burning passion to bring Hermione back into our lives disappeared.

I had to find Harry.

~-~-~-~-~-~

(Hermione)

“You’re right, you aren’t her. You couldn’t be her.”

Those words played in my head all night, not letting me to get a wink of sleep. The logic part of me said good riddance, that I had done the right thing. I wasn’t Hermione, and it wasn’t good for them to think I was and helplessly hope after it. It was about time someone knocked some sense into their poor brains.

But then another part of me wondered. Wondered about everything that had happened since the man–Harry, I think his name was–hugged me on that streetside corner. I had yelled the most hurtful things I could think of at the time, and the look on his face when I finished...it broke my heart.

Why would it break my heart if I didn’t know him? It tore me up inside, I couldn’t bear it. When he walked towards me and looked into my eyes, holding me tenderly...lovingly...I began crying too, wanting to take away his pain.

Why would I feel that way if I didn’t know him? Love him?

I was about to push him away when he held my face in his hands. But something held me back...thinking about it now, it was because it felt so right. It was as if it wasn’t wrong, a complete stranger cradling my face in his hands. It felt natural, comfortable, and it felt perfectly good.

And Ronald Weasley...when he kissed my hand, grinned, a part of me felt as if I knew him. When he talked about her, it triggered something in my mind...the name Voldemort instilled a sudden chill down my spine, and I had no idea why. It just...just couldn’t be.

That’s right. It couldn’t be....

I turned and rolled over in my bed, my eyes drifting shut as those words echoed in my mind...

That’s right. It couldn’t be...

“Harry!” I screamed happily as he grinned, his green eyes blazing happily.

“Hermione! You came!”

“Of course she came,” Fred said, coming towards us and rubbing my head. “She’s our good luck charm.”

“And she couldn’t run away from our charm,” George finished, winking at me. “We sexy Weasleys attract the best of women.”

“That’s disgusting,” a drawling voice appeared. Draco Malfoy walked towards us, a smirk adorning his handsome, arrogant features.

“Malfoy,” Fred and George stated simultaneously.

“Weasleys.” And for once, there wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm or repulsion in Malfoy’s voice.

“Congratulations,” Fred said, smiling slowly.

“Yeah, we didn’t expect a prat like you could graduate,” George stated.

“Which would explain why you two never did,” Malfoy retorted, but the three of them smirked at each other like nothing was wrong in the world.

Harry caught my eye and shook his head, grinning.

“What’s this? A party without me?” Ron jogged towards us, his red hair flailing all over the place. “Hermione!” Noticing me he engulfed me in a hug, pulling me close. “We’ve graduated! We’ve graduated!”

“Never did I imagine you to survive, Ronald Weasley,” I whispered lovingly into his ear. He grinned, landing a quick kiss on my cheek.

“Harry, have you ever seen the Head Girl as beautiful as she is now?” Ron boomed, holding me at arm’s length and wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, Ron!”

“No, Ron, she’s never been more beautiful,” Harry said, giving me another one of those looks. I blushed, turning away and smiling sheepishly. I knew it then, as I caught his eye and smiled. He would be the only man I could and would ever blush to. I snorted at myself, when had I ever talked by cliches?

“Oh but I must say, I’m the prettiest out of the bunch,” Fred said, shoving his chest out and raising his nose into the air.

We all laughed. Even Malfoy joined in, looking as if he belonged amongst the Weasleys, a Potter and a Muggle-born.

After Dumbledore said his speech Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny walked up to the stage. All of us whooped, clapping as Ron saluted to us as he slung his guitar around his shoulders. Harry grinned at me, taking the mic and blowing on it softly.

“1 2 3 4!” Ginny shouted, clapping her drumstick together. Immediately the band fell into rhythm, a fast beat full of energy.

“I remember seeing you out there,” Harry sang, his eyes on me. “I remember feeling that the calm crisp air...was feeling rather different...I should have taken that big hint...to realizing where we would be...when all this was a memory!” Ron took a quick solo there as Harry stood there, grinning at me. Ginny whooped then as she plunged into her drums, and Harry readied himself for another line. “We’d be standing right where we are now! And looking back I wonder how...we could have let ourselves allow...to forget. The obstacles that we ran over. The hands that we did clasp together. I mean just look at us now! Look at us now!” Here Harry motioned to us, the audience, and we all clapped and cheered. “Standing here...where we are now...how could we have let us allow...to imagine us anywhere else...than here.” Harry stepped down from the platform then, walking towards me. “Because we should have known from the beginning. Where we would be now.” He grinned at me, his voice a steady tempo as he finished, “We’d be right here, grinning and cheering. Where else could we possibly...be.”

And as the crowd broke into applause, as Harry was overwhelmed with fans and handshakes and pats on the backs and hugs, as Ron blew into another happy guitar solo and the crowd continued the cheer, as Ginny whirled around and yelled in happiness, as Draco Malfoy winked at me, as the Weasley twins grinned at each other and joined Ron in his frantic jumping and frenzied playing, as I looked around and saw everyone I knew smiling and laughing...as I looked up at the sky and saw everyone else smiling upon us...as I looked to the right to see the staff clapping and cheering...as I saw Harry grin at me from over the crowd and give me another one of those looks...as I was lifted by two people I recognized as none other than Bill and Charlie Weasley to the stage to join the remaining Weasleys...as I saw my parent’s smiling faces in the crowd...I knew, absolutely knew, that this was what philosophers called perfection.

Ron finished his playing, sweat adorning his hairline and his breathing ragged. He pulled me close and hugged me tight, tears falling onto my neck as he hid his face in the crook of my shoulder. I joined him in crying, and Ginny got up to fall in with us. Fred and George clapped me and Ron on the back, but eventually joined the circle. Draco found his way in somehow, hugging Ginny around the middle and whispering things into her ear as she sobbed more uncontrollably. I myself saw tears trail down his cheeks. Finally, Harry made his way out of the crowd to wrap his arms around me and Ron, tears rolling down his cheeks freely as well. Harry, Ron and I looked at one another and I let out a whispered, “We made it.”

My eyes opened slowly as I heard someone calling my name. For a second I saw green eyes, messy black hair and a soft grin gazing in front of me. I smiled, a whispered, “Harry?” escaping my lips. The eyes blinked and I saw them for the brown color they originally were. The black hair and grin evaporated in front of me, and I saw in their place George Becker, a worried expression on his face.

“Harry? You mean that bloke I met two days ago?”

“Y-yes,” I said, blinking frantically. “That...that bloke.”

“Were you...expecting him?”

“No, no, he was just in a dream I had.” Noticing his expression, I hurried to say, “I was just remembering my school days, and we were in detention together.”

“Oh,” he said, laughing. “You better wake up, you promised that you’d come see me in the ‘Battle of the Bands,’ remember?”

“Yes, yes of course...” I shook my head, closing my eyes and I groggily got up. “Just give me thirty minutes, I’ll meet you outside in the café?”

“Sure, Lucy, I’ll see you then.”

For the first time, I felt as if he wasn’t talking to me, that something wasn’t right. Then it hit me. I had been expecting him to call me Hermione.

It couldn’t be.

My eyes went wide as I realized that Harry and Ron had done something in front of me. They had used...pieces of wood. Wands. They had...what’s the word...

...apparated...

That the song I had caught myself singing, humming, whistling countless times had been the song in my dream, the song Harry Potter had sung the day of his graduation.

I yelled in anguish, my world was literally falling apart around me.

How the bloody hell could it be.

~-~-~-~-~-~

reviewing’s good for the soul...

Thanks to C Lewis1220, peaceful, kw702955, iloveluckyseamus, laila, Draco’s Gurl (yup, those are my lyrics...), Calvin Potterson, PilarMagic, the real HOPE, Falling, KypDurron, kensit, Eleanna, Vicarious Leigh, Roxy, laurie, and all you anonymous reviewers for your supporting comments!

*Takes a deep breath* Well, this is the end. I’m well aware that this story has been told countless times...but I’ve always read fanfics about this plotline and just wanted to write one of my own. Thanks for everyone who took the time to read this, all feedback has been deeply appreciated. This is my first finished fic on portkey–aah this is so exciting! Well, get on with it, read and critisize!

~-~-~-~-~-~

Isn’t Enough

Chapter Four: Isn’t Enough

~-~-~-~-~-~

(Ron)

“It’s okay, you know, if we just...drop out...” Harry grunted. I sighed.

After the interlude with “Hermione” I had found Harry on Broadway, standing in front of a deserted “Cats” poster.

“Really, it’s fine,” I tried again.

“You can just get another singer,” he muttered. I knew we could do no such thing.

“You know if you drop out, we all drop out,” I replied, leaning my back against a wall. Harry remained silent, his eyes following the bustle of people rushing past us.

“I just want to get out of here,” he whispered. “Just...forget it. All of it.”

“I know, mate,” I said, trying to reassure him that it would all be okay. Harry remained silent, his arms crossed as he frowned at me. “So yeah, Ginny might be a little upset, she wanted to win this more than any of us, but–”

“We’re not backing out of this,” he said.

“What?”

“I can’t just...run from it, Ron.” Harry’s eyes rested on the brick wall to the left of my neck. “You wouldn’t understand. I have to finish this to the end...prove to myself. Finish what I started.” A small smile unfurled on his lips. “Besides...you guys need me. And I’m no wuss.”

I glanced at Harry, trying to read his eyes but he turned his head away from me, shuffling his feet. After a few moments I said, “All right.” He flashed me a smile, but I could tell it was forced.

Maybe it was better if we just didn’t go at all.

~-~-~-~-~-~

(Hermione)

“Wish me luck, love,” George said as we parted from our kiss.

I smiled at him, brushing his hair affectionately and whispered, “Good luck.” Nodding at me he left, walking back stage where I could see the rest of his band mates.

A shiver ran down my spine as I looked around, a feeling of premonition washing over me.

“You’re never going to see them again,” a voice muttered in my head. “Erase them, Hermione. Forget them.” I couldn’t help but link that voice to George’s.

“Don’t,” another argued, this one sounding incredibly like Harry. “You know there’s something there. Don’t.”

Blocking both voices out I walked out, ready to seat myself in the audience and bathe myself in music.

My eyes were suddenly drawn to a group of three red-haired people walking past me, headed backstage. Twins and a girl. They looked painfully familiar...

“You sure it’s all right to drag Harry back here?” the girl asked, her brown eyes full of concern. “I’m worried about him.”

“He’s a grown bloke, Gin,” one of the twins said. “It’s time he forced himself to get over Hermione.”

I knew my face paled. My blood chilled, and I grasped the program in my clenched fist desperately.

“What a way to wake up, though,” the other twin replied, shaking his head. “‘Lucy Crimson.’ What a joke,” he snarled. “She knows who she is, she’s just being a–”

“Stop it,” the girl snapped, threatening the twin with her drumsticks. “Just stop it.” The three of them finally made it inside the doors and vanished from my sight.

The lights dimmed and the announcer walked on stage. As I saw George wave to me from behind the curtain and the mobs of people pushed me from both sides, only one thought coherently formed in my mind.

They’re here.

~-~-~-~-~-~

(Ron)

“Are you guys ready?” Fred asked, strumming his guitar nervously.

“Would you guys mind...” Harry began, biting his lip, “if we didn’t play that song?”

“Harry,” Ginny said, “you are aware that we’re going to play in five minutes, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, his eyes glancing to the stage. I could see that he was staring at the bass player, a brown haired tall fellow. “But I mean...what if we played the song we played at Graduation?”

“That song?” George asked, startled. His eyes caught mine, and I knew what he was thinking. Harry had written it for Hermione.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered, his eyes still trained on the bass player.

Everyone had thought that the song had been written about how we all had survived Voldemort, about everything we had done to fight him and here we are, or were.

But we knew better.

“I dunno, mate,” Fred answered, his thoughts trained on the same brain wave. “Don’t you think–”

“I think we should play that song,” Harry reiterated with a little more force. “Please,” he said after a moment of silence.

Ginny hesitated before setting her hand on Harry’s arm, giving him a comforting smile while saying, “Of course, Harry.”

Oh, bugger.

“Harry,” I said urgently as Ginny, Fred and George walked over to the edge of the stage. “You’re sure what you’re doing? You–”

“She’s here. I can feel it,” he said in a hollow tone. “That’s George.”

“What do you mean that’s George? George is over there with Fred and Ginny, Harry...”

“That’s George, Hermione’s fiancé,” he said in the same hollow tone.

“Harry...”

“I just want to sing that god damn song, okay?”

It felt as if this was his last, desperate attempt to get him back. But as I looked at him, I saw he had already given up. Maybe he had to do this for closure...

Well, whatever the reason, I was behind Harry.

“Okay.”

~-~-~-~-~-~

(Hermione)

George’s band just finished, everyone around me clapping. His eyes found me in the crowd and he gave me a wave, blowing me a kiss.

It all felt wrong.

My breathing hitched as I thought about Harry. His eyes, his smile...

...his tears...

“Hi.” Oh bloody hell, I was hearing him in my head too! “We’re ‘Phoenix,’ hope you enjoy.”

Wait. That wasn’t just in my head...

“1 2 3 4!” a woman shouted, clapping her drumsticks together. Immediately the band fell into rhythm, a fast beat full of energy.

No sodding way...

“I remember seeing you out there,” Harry sang. My head snapped up and there he was, on the stage, his eyes closed. No fucking sodding way... “I remember feeling that the calm crisp air...was feeling rather different...I should have taken that big hint...”

There he was, right there. Singing that song. The song that wasn’t supposed to be real. It couldn’t be real. Just couldn’t. But here he was, singing it to me.

“To realizing where we would be...when all this was a memory!”

A guitar solo started and my eyes glanced to Harry’s left to see Ron blazing away onto his guitar, a grimace of happiness on his face as his body turned rigid with the music. When I looked back to Harry I saw his eyes wide with disbelief, his mouth slightly open. He was staring right at me. As Ron’s solo came to a close Harry shook his head, closing his eyes again.

“We’d be standing right where we are now! And looking back I wonder how...”

I looked around at the rest of the band, and somehow I knew all of their names. That was Ginny playing the drums. Yes, Ginny Weasley...Ron’s younger sister...

“Oh, Hermione, I’ve always wanted a big sister,” she sighed happily...

“We could have let ourselves allow...to forget.”

And Fred...and George...Fred was the one with the birthmark on his left ear...yes, that was him, on the other guitar...George on the bass...

“You’re a regular Percy, you.”

“At least we can count on you to keep these two blokes on their leashes. I swear, Hermione, you’re the one who wears the pants in this sodding three-people-relationship that you people call the Dream Team.”

“The obstacles that we ran over. The hands that we did clasp together.”

Harry. Harry Potter. My best friend. Sweet, handsome, loving Harry. Ron Weasley, caring, obsessive, overprotective adorable Ron...

“I mean just look at us now! Look at us now!”

And I was Hermione Jane Granger.

“Standing here...where we are now...”

Hermione Jane Granger. Not Lucy Crimson. Not a cello soloist. I was a witch. I was Hermione.

“How could we have let us allow...to imagine us anywhere else...”

Hermione Granger...I remembered. My head throbbed, pulsed angrily, but everything rushed back, every memory breathing once more.

“Than here...”

I could barely feel the tears streaming down my cheeks as I closed my eyes, holding my head gently. Oh my bloody fucking Merlin.

“Because we should have known from the beginning. Where we would be now...”

Hogwarts. That’s where I was. Battle with Voldemort...I was running from Lucius Malfoy when I tripped, began to fall...

Another guitar solo erupted, but this time from Fred, I could tell. Ron was more aggressive, and he loved intricate fingerings. Fred...had another vibe...

I opened my eyes, my gaze trained on Ron. He saw me, and his reaction was similar to Harry’s. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open. He swallowed visibly, quickly glancing to Harry and then back to me.

Harry was staring at me again, but this time, I could see tears gathering in his eyes. They began to fall down his cheeks, and I saw his lower lip shaking slightly. Ron, from the corner of my eye, made a circle motion to Fred. Fred glanced at Harry’s back, and nodding, lengthened his solo a bit.

“I–” I murmured, my eyes still on Harry. He looked so lost. “I love you,” I breathed, tear stains drying up my cheeks.

“We’d be right here,” Harry croaked, swallowing, “grinning and cheering.”

“I love you,” I said a little louder, my mouth suddenly dry. All I knew in that moment of time was that I was on the brink of losing what was most dear to me, and I had to do anything, everything, to get it back.

“Where else could we possibly...” Tears overwhelmed Harry then, his body shaking, trembling. I could see his hands curled into fists, could see he was trying to hold it in, push it back. To finish the song. “...be...”

The audience burst into applause, but I took no notice. The sound was in the background, and all I could see was Harry. My Harry.

“I love you!” I screamed, trying to push through the crowd. “Harry! Harry! I love you!”

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. Ron slung his guitar so that it rested against his back and walked briskly towards Harry. Grabbing his shoulders Ron walked him off the stage, the Weasleys following suit.

“Harry! Goddamnit, HARRY!”

The crowd pushed around me, pushed me away from Harry, suffocating me. Before I knew what I was doing, I was climbing onto that stage, chasing the man I finally realized I had loved all along, chasing the future .

~-~-~-~-~-~

(Harry)

“I love you!” I heard her yell, but I knew it was all in my head. Hermione didn’t exist to me, anymore. She couldn’t.

I felt Ron steer me away from the stage and behind the curtain.

“Good job, mate,” he said, clapping me on the back.

“Harry?” Ginny asked tentatively, her thumbs brushing away my tears.

“I’m o-okay,” I choked out, trying to smile. “I’m fine.”

“Harry!” we heard from somewhere behind the curtain, on the stage.

“R-really, Gin, I’m...good...” I took a deep, rattling breath in. I was going to be okay. This would be the last time I ever cried over Hermione Granger.

“She’s out there, Harry,” Ginny murmured, her hands cradling my face as I cried. “I saw the way she looked at you. You–”

“She doesn’t fucking remember!” I exploded. Bloody Merlin, I couldn’t do this. Why did I think I could do this?! “She doesn’t! That hurts even more than if she was really dead, she just...we weren’t important...” Sod it all, sod everything! “She doesn’t love me,” I finally whispered. “Never will. Maybe...”

“Don’t say it,” Ron warned me, his voice hard and full of emotion. He sounded as if he was on the brink of crying. “Don’t.”

“Maybe she never did,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

“That’s not true.” I started laughing; there she was, in my head again. They were going to send me off to Mungo’s; hearing voices wasn’t good, even in the wizarding world... “Harry.”

Opening my eyes I was startled to find her standing in front of me. Her eyes were blotchy, tear stains crisscrossed her cheeks, but she looked beautiful, untouched, perfect.

“Harry,” she repeated, her eyes gazing into mine.

“Get away from him,” I heard Ron mutter, his hand grab Hermione’s arm harshly. She tugged it back, glaring at him.

“Ron,” Ginny mumbled warningly, grabbing Ron’s hand and pulling him away from us.

“Harry,” Hermione tried again, taking in a deep breath.

“What do you want,” I whispered, swallowing.

“I..” she began, her eyes darting between mine. “I don’t know,” she finally finished.

“Go back to George,” I spat. “I saw him. That’s the only reason you’re here, right? Just go back. Get away from me.” I began to walk past her when she grabbed my hand, hugging me desperately. “What’re you–”

“Your name’s Harry Potter,” she said, her voice muffled against my shirt. “You love midnight walks, riding on that god-forsaken broomstick and bathing in sunlight.”

My breathing hitched–this couldn’t be for real. My eyes went up and I saw Ron staring at Hermione, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“That song was written for me. I remember–remember when you did it. We were sitting in the common room, the fireplace blazing in front of us. It was well past midnight–empty, Ron had just gone up.”

“Y-you leaned into me,” I couldn’t help but say. “Rested your head against my shoulder, your fingers tracing rune patterns into the palm of my hand.” She nodded against my chest.

“I told you that you would beat him. That it’d be okay...and you, you said-”

“I said that sometimes I wished that I had died in first year, or second year, or third year, or fourth year...” She remembered. She remembered.

“And I asked you whether you’d really give up everything that had happened...everything we survived. Everything that we...we progressed to...”

“And then we kissed,” I whispered, smiling slightly.

Hermione pulled away from me, gazing up at me before whispering, “And then after we broke apart, I told you I loved you.”

“You remember,” I murmured, not daring to believe it.

“I remember,” she replied, smiling up at me. The face I had dreamed about for the last four years. The woman I cried about nearly every night.

“Time to announce the winners!” a voice yelled from the stage. “Get ready, folks! The winner of the ‘Battle of the Bands’ and this $1000 check...”

She was right here, in my arms.

“The winner is...” the voice yelled... “‘Phoenix!’”

“You guys won!” a backstage crew member said, pumping Ron in the shoulder. We all grinned at each other. Fred and George whooped, running to get our huge check.

“My name’s Hermione Jane Granger,” Hermione whispered, cradling my face in her hands. “I was born September 19. I’m a Gryffindor, I went to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for seven years, I’m your best friend. My favorite color is blue, and I love reading a big, dusty book by the fireplace with a cup of chocolate cocoa with three marshmallows and Crookshanks at my feet,” she murmured gently, repeating the very things I had said to her when I met her in front of the concert hall two days ago.

“Does that mean you’re coming back to us?” I asked after a moment of hesitation.

“Harry,” she said gently, brushing tendrils away from my face. “Nothing here...My life here...it isn’t enough to keep me away.”

And suddenly, we were both 17, sitting in front of a blazing fireplace and leaning in for our first kiss all over again.

The end.

~-~-~-~-~-~

My first finished fic! Ah! This is so exciting! Hope you guys liked! Endings were always my weakest part...*sigh* tell me just how bad it was!

I soo could have dried that story with every cliche twist, hm? I dunno, I hate it when stories get unnaturally long just so the story gets long...you know what I mean? Although I think I might have rushed this one. Let me know!