Return To Me

bentheslayer

Rating: PG
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 30/05/2004
Last Updated: 30/05/2004
Status: completed

Seventh year at Hogwarts is drawing to a close and Harry has been gone for a month, having left to meet his destiny with Lord Voldemort. Hermione has been left behind, and longs for his return . . . Short fic.

Chapters

1. Return To Me

1. Return To Me

Disclaimer: All characters and all copyrights belong to the wonderful J.K.Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters for a little while . . . no infringement is intended and no money is being made . . .

Return To Me

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was awash with noise as its students sat down to the evening feast. The enchanted ceiling reflected the clear starry sky of the balmy summer night outside; less than three weeks of term were remaining and there was a buzz of combined nervousness and excitement amongst the students - it was almost time for exams. For the fifth-years that meant OWL's, but for seventh-years Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley it meant NEWT's, the hardest and downright nastiest set of tests wizards and witches were subjected too. They sat at the head of the Gryffindor table which was, unusually, the quietest of the four house tables that night. Whilst the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins talked loudly, debating the upcoming exams, swapping tips on charms and poring over textbooks as they ate, the Gryffindors were rather subdued. Those that talked spoke quietly, and without much animation. Pavarti Patil and Lavender Brown talked softly together as they ate; Neville Longbottom flipped through his Potions textbook silently whilst he chewed, Dean Thomas and Seamus O'Finnigan both quietly compared Transfiguration notes. Ron has his own Transfiguration book propped open as he made rapid work of mashed potatoes and frowned occasionally, brushing strands of his long flame-red hair out of his eyes. He would glance at Hermione every so often to make sure she was actually eating something, and to his relief the food was disappearing from her plate. Very slowly, to be sure, but she was getting there.

Hermione was not herself. Normally unstoppable when it came to exams and indeed preparation for them, this time there had been no flurry of note-taking seemingly every second or no piles of books neatly organised into specified revision groups. There had been no brightly-coloured revision planners and no marathon visits to the library. Whilst she had actually been doing revision, it was plain to everyone that her heart was not in it. She was very quiet and prone to tears. Whilst she still went about her duties as Head Girl and answered questions dutifully in her classes, her teachers knew that something was different about her, that something was missing. As she sat and poked at her food, every now and then remembering to actually eat something, she would continually glance at the empty seat next to her, a seat that had been empty for quite some time.

Ron was fairly certain about what was missing. Even though he had got over his rather long-lasting crush on her, he still had a soft spot for Hermione and it nearly broke his heart to see his best friend suffering so. The pain in her bright brown eyes was plain to see.

"Hermione?" he said softly.

She looked up at him slowly.

"He's going to come back," Ron said to her, fixing her in the eye.

A very weak smile began to trace the corners of her mouth but it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. Ron sighed inwardly.

Where are you, Harry? he thought.

Harry Potter had been gone for well over a month now, his disappearance sending shock waves throughout the school. One evening he had been happily talking with Ron and Hermione in the Common Room, and the next morning he was gone, all his belongings neatly packed into his trunk which remained on his bed. Even those closest to Harry could offer little explanation for his sudden departure, and rumour and speculation had travelled quickly. Some believed that the pressure had finally got to him and he'd cracked, running off to live somewhere remote in the Muggle world. Others thought that he was undergoing some secret training with the Ministry of Magic, that he had been chosen to become an Unspeakable. There were other rather more silly theories, but a large part of the student population had thought right. Harry had finally gone to confront You-Know-Who.

Hermione, Ron and Albus Dumbledore were the only ones who had received any kind explanation from Harry, all in the form of letters found waiting for them that same fateful morning he had left. Of his two best friends Ron had received the shortest note; in it Harry explained what he was setting out to do, told Ron that he thought of him as a brother and thanked him for his friendship, and asked him to look after Hermione. Hermione's note was longer, and she carried it with her inside her robes wherever she went. She had read it so many times that the words were burned into her memory.

- - -

Hermione,

Please forgive me for not saying this to you in person; it would have been too painful for me to do because I know that one look into your eyes would make me stay, and this is something that I have to do. I'm going to find Voldemort, Hermione. It's gone on long enough. The attacks have been getting much worse lately - Albus has told me that some of them are worse than the Ministry is letting on, that he's even begun sending the Dementors against Muggles - and it's time for it all to stop. Before you say it, I know that they are all probably just designed to lure me out, believe me I've given a lot of thought about this. This has to be done, and it has to be done now.

I've realised something, Hermione. I know now what the power is that I'm supposed to have that Voldemort doesn't. It's taken me long enough to realise it, but I finally understand.

It's love, Hermione. My love for you.

Yes, this is me, Harry, telling you that I'm in love with you. I have been for so long that I can't remember a time when I wasn't. You're my whole world, Hermione, you always have been. There's no-one more beautiful or special to me. My heart is yours.

I want you to promise me that you won't come looking for me. This has to be between Voldemort and me, no-one else - if anything happened to you I don't know how I'd go on. Please promise me that you'll stay at Hogwarts.

I have to go soon, it's getting light. I can't stop you worrying about me, but just know this: you are the reason I'm going to win, Hermione. I'm going to stop Voldemort and put an end to this awful war, and I'm going to come back to you. I don't know if you share the same feelings for me, but it doesn't matter. I'm not saying goodbye. I'm going to come back to you, and say these three words in person:

I love you.

Harry

- - -

Hermione had shown the letter to no-one. She had cried for hours after reading it the first time, and after seeing Harry's empty bed for herself. She loved him more than he would ever know, and now she feared that he would never return so she could tell him that. It made her angry with herself for never plucking up the courage to tell him. Whilst his leaving had upset her deeply, the words in the letter had warmed her heart - he loved her. He truly loved her, just as she loved him. She had almost gone after him, but Ron had made her see sense. He had almost had to pull his wand on her to do it, but he had done it. Looking back, she had never known Ron to show such maturity. She was lucky to have him as her best friend.

And so the time had passed. It had been almost a month and half since he left, but it had felt like years to Hermione. School life went on; reports of Death Eater attacks continued to come in. No-one in the wizarding world had seen Harry.

Until that fateful night.

Hermione's plate was almost empty. Most of the other students had long-since finished desserts and now were talking and laughing. The buzz of conversation extended to the table where the teachers sat, talking with severe looks on their faces. Dumbledore himself sat with his hands folded neatly together, listening to Professor McGonagall. A great deal more of the candles that floated above the students had flickered to life as the time had grown later. Dumbledore was getting ready to announce that it was time for bed when suddenly one of the doors to the Great Hall was flung open; a chorus of screams rose up as a Death Eater strode forwards briskly, black robes billowing out. There were shouts of fear and confusion, and several of the older students began to draw their wands, but then the Death Eater removed the mask he wore and there was another chorus, this time of shock and bewilderment: Severus Snape had revealed himself, and Dumbledore called out for order as the Potions Master strode towards the high table quickly. The noise immediately died down but the chatter remained - Snape a Death Eater! Ron and Hermione shared worried looks - something must have happened, something big, for Snape to reveal his disguise in front of the entire student body of Hogwarts.

"What the bloody hell is he doing?" Ron said, watching as the teachers crowded around Snape who was talking animatedly to Dumbledore.

"Shush," was all Hermione said, gazing at the spectacle. Snape was showing Dumbledore his forearm, where she knew the Dark Mark was burned into his skin, and Dumbledore was speaking rapidly. The buzz around the Great Hall continued to build to a fever pitch as everyone wanted to know what was going on. The braver students who approached the high table were quickly sent back by McGonagall; Hermione had gone quite pale and Ron looked at her worriedly.

"I'm sure it's fine," he said, sounding unconvinced himself.

Ten minutes had passed and still Snape was in deep conversation with Dumbledore and the other teachers. Hermione had watched him show his forearm to Dumbledore again twice more; she had never seen Snape act so animatedly before. She was beginning to rise from the table, thinking that as Head Girl she might be allowed to approach, when both the doors to the hall suddenly burst open with a loud bang. As one everyone turned, and it took a few moments for them to recognise the figure standing in the doorway.

His robes were tattered and torn; he seemed to be covered in blood from a great deal of wounds that littered his body, and his left arm hung limply at his side, surely broken. His face was dirty; his glasses were gone, and the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead was glowing a dull red. His wand was still grasped tightly in his right hand. He was swaying slightly, as if the effort to remain standing was almost too much. Those nearest to him said that the look in his eyes was one of utter exhaustion - some said that it seemed like his very soul was weary. As recognition began the murmur of voices began to rise once more. Hermione stared at the figure in the doorway and felt her heart leap into her throat. He stared around the hall vacantly, and then his gaze settled on her. She thought she saw the faintest of smiles and his lips mouth her name, but then Harry Potter sank to his knees and collapsed onto the cold stone.

Chaos erupted.

- - -

There were voices everywhere. Some he recognised, others he didn't. He didn't yet open his eyes; everything seemed to ache, and he felt utterly, utterly tired. He couldn't remember a time when his body had felt so bad.

"-very lucky, that's for sure, worse case of-"

"-we all felt the Dark Mark burn away, and that's when I knew something-"

"-I'm not leaving, and you can't make me-"

The last voice made his open his eyes. Without his now-lost glasses everything was slightly blurred, but he had been in this room enough times to recognise the hospital wing. He couldn't remember how he'd got there; he remembered the duel, of course . . . he would never forget that. He remembered using the last of his strength to Apparate to Hogsmeade and then somehow managing to stagger up to the castle, but after that it was a blank. But now he was back. He was safe. And most of all, the voice he had longed to hear was only a few feet away . . .

"You haven't slept in three days, Miss Granger, and as the school nurse I am ordering you to go do so. Mr Potter isn't going anywhere, he will be here when you return."

"But I want to stay with him, I want to be here when he wakes up!"

"There's no need to argue any longer," said another voice, one that he recognised as the pleasant one of Albus Dumbledore. "It would seem the hero has awakened at last."

Harry tried to push himself up in his bed weakly; there was a gasp and suddenly he was enveloped by a soft body and a mass of bushy brown hair.

"Harry!"

"Hello, Hermione," he said, as best as he could manage. With the little strength he had he held her close to him; she buried her face in his neck and began to sob.

"I thought I'd never see you again!" Hermione cried. "I thought I'd lost you . . ."

"Not a chance," Harry said, stroking her hair with one hand, cradling her gently. Despite the pain of his bruised and battered body he pulled her tighter. He never wanted to let go of her again.

The other voices had formed a respectful silence. Once Hermione had stopped crying she sat up on the bed, and Harry could tell there was a smile on her face. A blurred figure appeared next to the other side of his bed; Dumbledore, who retrieved a pair of glasses from inside his robes and handed them to Harry. Now able to see properly again, he took Hermione in. She did indeed look tired; there were deep black rings beneath her eyes and she looked rather pale. Her robes were rumpled and her hair was even messier than usual. But the smile on her face and look in her eyes said it all to him - he could tell she was the happiest she'd been for a long time. He looked down at himself and winced - he was covered in bandages all over the place, and although he could move his left arm again it felt full of pins and needles. He could only guess how long he'd been unconscious.

"Welcome back Harry," said Dumbledore, and clasped one of Harry's hands in his own. "You've had us all quite worried . . . you've slept for three whole days. But I see that things have worked out all right in the end."

"Yes," Harry said weakly. "I did it, he's gone . . . Voldemort is gone."

"You are certain, Harry?"

Harry realised he was still wearing the tattered remains of his robes. He reached slowly into his one remaining pocket and pulled out two halves of a snapped wand; he held them up and Hermione could see the tip of a phoenix feather protruding from one end.

"I . . . used the curse on him, Professor. Avada Kedavra. He's gone."

Dumbledore took the splintered wand and regarded Harry with his twinkling blue eyes, before smiling softly and inclining his head in a slow nod.

"Then the world has cause to celebrate. Truly, Harry, you are one of the greatest wizards this world has ever known."

Harry went rather pink but smiled back at him. He could see that there were a great deal of people there watching him - Snape, McGonagall, Madame Pompfrey, Remus Lupin, Tonks, and Molly and Arthur Weasley, all of them beaming at him apart from Snape. He gave them all a weak wave before Dumbledore turned and herded them away further down the wing. Hermione remained sitting next to him. He slowly pushed himself up painfully so he was sitting up in bed properly.

"I told you I was coming back."

"Yes . . . yes you did."

She was beginning to go pink now too. He reached out and took her hands in his; they were warm and fitted together with his own perfectly.

"I have something I want to say to you."

"I know."

He looked at her, all the pain and weariness fading away as he shuffled closer to his beautiful best friend. The girl who had given him the power and the courage to defeat the Dark Lord, the girl who had always been there for him no matter what, the girl who he had shared everything with . . . everything but this.

"Hermione Granger . . . I love you."

She smiled the brightest smile he had ever seen, and joy danced in her eyes plain for him to see.

"I love you too, Harry Potter."

The kiss was one that they would never forget.

* * * *