Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: With Love (6/6)

Author: Seiryuu

Rating: PG-13.

Summary: Our story finally comes to an end.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. The Wheel of Time series is owned by Robert Jordan and Tor Fantasy Books. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note:Thanks to mor levi for dragging me out to finish this story; god knows it's long overdue. There's many, many reasons why it took so long to come out, but suffice it to say it's rather boring and we should just get to the fiction.

Apologies if it's not up to the usual standards: I'm out of practice.

Chapter 6: The Climax

February 18, 2012

"Harry! Harry!"

He turned around and smiled when he saw who it was; rather, who they both were. He leaned against the wall and waited for the pair to catch up to him. "Hey guys. What's up?"

They flanked him and each grabbed one of Harry's arms. "Let's go back to the Burrow, where you belong," Fred said with a frown on his face.

"You don't intend to leave now, do you?" George asked.

"After all, Hermione is vulnerable right now-" Fred said.

"And she needs everyone she trusts and loves with her-" George continued.

"Which, of course, includes you." Fred finished.

Harry shook the twins off of him and glared at them. "I think Hermione's made it perfectly clear where she wants me to go," he said. "I don't see a point in sticking around to support her when she doesn't want any of the support. She doesn't even believe me! How can she not even believe-"

Harry stopped himself, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. After a moment he opened his eyes and looked at each of the twins in the eyes. He smiled - a painful smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Look, mates, I appreciate the thought and I know you care about what's going to happen. But I can't stick around when she doesn't even want to listen to what I have to say. She looks like she's in good hands, and I don't need to be here."

The twins talked one after another in the rapid-fire way that was trademark.

"What, are you deliberately being stupid?"

"Don't be such a daft prick."

"We love both of you equally. Still, you seemed up to handling the mess. We would've helped you too if you needed it."

Harry nodded. "I know. That goes without saying." He shrugged the twins off his arms. "Besides, I have to Apparate back to Australia as soon as possible before anyone notices I'm gone. We're not shooting for a few days but I should be back to answer questions if I need to. Thanks for coming to see me, Fred, George, and I'll definitely keep in touch."

Harry smiled at them and turned around. He had taken only a few steps when George's voice came from behind him, loud and cutting.

"Running away again, Harry?"

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned around. "What did you just say?" he asked in disbelief.

For once there was no humor in George's face, no twinkle in his eyes. He crossed his arms across his chest. "You heard me. Are you going to just run away again, like you have with so many of your problems?"

Harry stared at George. He opened his mouth and closed it again as he tried to figure out what to say. He had never seen George this angry before.

George smirked and spat, "It's just so much easier to retreat, isn't it Harry? Just go off to a different continent, run off and hide halfway across the world. Forget that there's a woman crying back at our home because of you. Really brave of you, Harry. Really bloody Gryffindor of you. I'll see you when you're done being a sodding idiot." He turned around and walked away without a glance back. Fred looked at George then turned back to Harry.

Harry looked back at the twin, half-expecting to Fred to start into him too. Fred raised an eyebrow at Harry. He grinned and shrugged. "I'll see you around, Harry. Keep in touch," he said, and stepped forward to give Harry a big hug. He winked, turned and skipped toward his twin, whistling all the while.

Harry stood for a moment, completely shocked. Slowly, he broke out of the daze. He looked at his watch and walked toward his destination, ruminating on George's words. It seemed the Weasleys always could throw him for a loop, no matter how much time he spent with them.

By the time Ginny knocked at the door she had finished crying and wiped her eyes clear. She had gotten used to the thought of Harry's betrayal days ago and she had truly surprised herself by getting so emotional at watching him leave. Honestly, it had felt so good to yell at Harry in his face. She was able to vent her frustrations on him and say the things that had stewed in her mind ever since the whole disaster began. So now he was gone.

Good riddance, she thought. Maybe things will go back to the way it was before I was stupid enough to send him that owl. I've survived for ten years without him and I'll go on for as long as I need to. I don't need to speak to Harry Potter.

He is now officially the past and it is past time for me to move on.

The door opened.

"Hermione?" Ginny said tentatively and walked into the room. Hermione turned around to meet her friend. "Are you alright?"

There was an odd look on Ginny's face that Hermione couldn't recognize. "I'm fine, Ginny, really," Hermione said. I've learned that it was definitely a mistake contacting Harry again. His lifestyle and mine… they're too different to mix. I'll just treasure the memories of him that I still have and keep it at that because the Harry of today is someone I do not want to mingle with."

Ginny frowned. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Hermione, this is Harry we're talking about. He's your best friend. And you might think that he's changed over so many years but honestly he hasn't. I've been able to interview him several times now and he's just the same person he used to be. This is a tough spot, sure, but you have to work past that together."

Hermione smiled grimly. Ginny knew that look. It meant Obstinate Hermione had now taken over, and no form of persuasion would take her off the path. "Look," Hermione said, "I don't want to talk about it. I have only a few days left of my vacation and I think we should enjoy it together as a family." She walked forward. "No more distractions, no more bad thoughts. Let's just enjoy the rest of the time we have together, right?"

Ginny grinned at her best friend. "You know," she said, "I'm supposed to be the one to say those lines. You're much too rational for your own good."

Hermione smiled back. "Well, that's hardly my fault," she said breezily. "You've known how I am for long enough. You should've expected me to be in control of my emotions."

"I guess a part of my mind did expect you to act this way," Ginny sighed. "Come on, let's finish lunch." She hugged Hermione and together they walked back to the dining room.

The Weasleys and other close, personal friends of Harry and Hermione expected the fight to blow over in a matter of days. After all, they were Harry and Hermione. They understood each other more than anyone else could. Surely they would come to terms with the disagreement, have a long talk, and everything would be as they should be.

Days turned to weeks. Harry flew back to Australia and Hermione resumed her duties at the hospitals.

His coworkers did not ask him anything about the media fiasco or the brief trip he took back to England. They were used to the horrors of the paparazzi and commiserated with him. They simply treated him as a friend, and that was exactly what he needed.

Some of her coworkers approached her about the scandal but met a stony wall of polite silence. The whole matter eventually winded down to whispers in the break room and pointed looks, ignored steadfast by Hermione.

Weeks turned to months. Still no reconciliation.

Life, it would seem, went on.

May, 2012

It was such a hassle to put his new costume on every day, Harry mused, as two men helped to place the medieval style armor on him. Most of the time he simply wore tunics and simple clothes, but for this week when they were filming the great attack scene he was forced to wear shiny plate mail. It was hot, sticky, heavy, and worst of all, it started to smell after a few hours in the sun.

He sighed. Such were the perils of being a fantasy film actor. Of course, he put up with it because it was his favorite director, after all, and the script had been fabulous.

He watched, amused, as his helpers began to lace up the breastplate to his chest and attach the arm pieces to the breastplate. "You guys are, as usual, excellent," Harry said. "Thank you, David, Adam." He raised his arms slightly about shoulder length in habit, to let the man lace up under his arms faster.

"Thank you, sir," David said softly. He finished lacing up the arms then looked up at Harry's face. He paused. "Sir," he said slowly, "are you all right?"

Harry said, "Never felt better. Why, what's going on?"

David shrugged. "It just looks like you haven't been sleeping very well, sir."

Harry tried a smile. "Do I look that horrid, then?"

David and Adam looked at each other then turned back to him. Silence reigned in the dressing room as the two refused to answer.

Harry glanced in the mirror and could not help but release a small chuckle. He had yet to go through makeup, and the sight that reached his eyes was a shock. Big, black bags rimmed his eyes and his eyes were swollen and slightly red. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Wow," Harry said. "You guys weren't kidding." He self-consciously scratched his head. "I hope that can be fixed in makeup or Peter's going to kill me."

"I know this is none of my business, sir," David said hesitantly. He paused a moment, unsure as to whether or not he should continue. He visibly gathered his thoughts and in a rush of words, he blurted out his concerns. "I know that the press is rubbish and Rita Skeeter is especially so."

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at David and Adam in turn. "You read the Wiz- I mean, the Enquirer?"

David smiled. "I was in Hufflepuff four years after you, Mr. Potter, and Adam here went to a Wizarding school in Australia."

"It's taken quite some restraint, mind you," Adam added, "to stop from throwing myself at your feet for getting rid of You-Know-Who."

"Please, call me Harry," Harry said with a grin. "Thank you for your moderation. I'm not sure how I could respond to that."

"I know that I shouldn't pay attention to a trashy old rag like the Enquirer," David said, "but I read it and it felt true. It didn't feel like a bunch of lies." He coughed. "I know that the article caused you quite a bit of distress, Mr. Potter, and I know it's none of my business."

"What makes you think that it's true, this time?" Harry asked.

David shrugged. "Well… it's Hermione Granger."

"I know that Hermione and I made a lot of headlines when we were going out right after the War, but-"

David cut him off with a quick shake of his head. "Oh no, sir, it's not the media hubbub that I'm thinking of. I remember watching you during your Seventh Year. All of us boys from our year did, I think. We were all impressed by everything we'd heard about you, everything you'd done. You were a legend! I watched you every moment I could. Watching you, I watched Ms. Granger as well."

He looked to the side, as if embarrassed by his admission of hero worship. "We were all taken aback when we heard you separated. It was the talk of the school for weeks," he continued. "If you would have asked any of us who watched you, we would have sworn that you and Ms. Granger were going to be forever."

Harry's gaze fixed on the wall. He spoke in a voice so quiet that David and Adam could barely hear him. "I thought we were, too."

After makeup was finished (the artist had clucked her tongue in horror and did the best she could) Harry stepped out of the room and headed toward the set in a daze. He could not help but remember exactly how it had been ten years ago, when his relationship with Hermione Granger had imploded. David's question reverberated in his head and he silently answered him. It felt, he thought, as if the world had ended.

He was now ten years older and (he hoped) ten years wiser. For the life of him, he could not figure out how he had survived, so long ago.

"Look alive, Harry," Neville's voice suddenly cut through Harry's thoughts. Harry looked up at the familiar, friendly face beaming at him. Suddenly, the smile faded and was replaced by a look of concern. "Is something wrong? What's on your mind?"

"For Heaven's sake-" Harry said and shook his head. "I'm an actor. Am I that transparent to everyone today?"

"I'm your friend, Harry, and I know you. Mind you, it wouldn't take much of a friend to see that you have that look in your eye."

"Which look?"

Neville gave him a you-know-exactly-what-I-mean stare. "Like you're lost and wandering alone in the wilderness." Neville put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Talk to me, Harry. You look like you need it."

Harry looked around. Neville had maneuvered him to a small corner of the room, isolated from the hustle that characterized the set. Harry sat down as Neville stepped away for a moment. He flagged a production assistant and talked to him in a low voice. The young boy nodded and ran off toward the set.

"I told him we'd be delayed a few. If I remember from the schedule, you're not really wanted for most of the day anyway. So we're free." Neville sat down next to Harry. "What's on your mind?"

"It's just- I was thinking, if someone had told me in sixth year that I would not speak to Hermione Granger for ten years, I would have laughed in his face and called him a loon," Harry said quietly.

Neville sat down next to him with a small sigh. "I never could get the hang of Divination and neither could you," he said after a long pause. "But if we're being honest here, I don't think I could have imagined the word Harry without a 'Ron, and Hermione' following it. And yet here we are."

"Here we are," Harry agreed.

"You know, Harry," Neville said hesitantly, "I never did figure out what led to Hermione and you separating after Hogwarts. I didn't mean to pry or bring up bad feelings. But… what happened between you two?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You never knew? I thought the papers covered it quite extensively. The Prophet had a column about it running for close to six months."

"I never read any of it," Neville replied. "It was probably a huge pack of lies. Let me guess at the contents of the columns - exclusive interviews with people who claim to have slept with you or Hermione, detailed accounts of arguments, and reports from experts on why your relationship was doomed because of what the tea leaves said."

Harry chuckled. "That about sums it up, I think. I'm afraid Hermione took the brunt of the media attack. After all, I was still the poster boy. In their eyes, Hermione was nothing compared to me." Harry stopped, frowned, and shook his head. "I never thought that, you know. She was more to me than just another girl. She meant the world to me."

Neville was quiet as he waited for Harry to explain at his own pace.

"I can't believe I'm talking about this in this… ridiculous getup," Harry said, looking down at his armor. Neville chuckled but didn't say anything.

"Life," Harry said at last. "Life wore us down and made us part ways."

"Life?" Neville echoed.

Harry looked at the ground, unwilling to look his friend in his eyes. This was a part of his life that he was quite ashamed of, and it was no easier to recite it now with the distance of time separating him from them. "Do you remember the years after Voldemort's death?" Harry asked. "There wanted so much from us. Endorsement deals. Interview requests. Job offers. I wasn't even out of Hogwarts when they started to send me the owls, so by the time I was done with school I didn't want to look at any of them."

Neville shrugged. "That's what you get for killing a Dark Lord. Fame and fortune come hand in hand with saving the world, or so I hear."

"Well, I didn't want any of it," Harry said flatly. "I just wanted a normal life, you know? I didn't want to become a Seeker, as much as I loved the game, just because I knew that it would separate me from the real world. I would still be in the spotlight. I wanted to become an Auror, but I don't think I could have really pulled it off. Too famous as it were already, you know? So I didn't accept anything and tried to go on with my life. For the first time in my life I didn't have Voldemort hanging over my head. I wanted to relax."

"You moved in with Ron and Hermione after school, right?"

Harry nodded. "It was nice for a while. We had a lot of fun and it was great to know that my two favorite people in the world were living at the same place. Mind you, it took a lot of adjustment for us to get that far. Hermione expected us to live up to her standards, and we were a pair of teenage boys. We took a lot of training before we picked up after ourselves and looked after the flat."

Neville grinned. "I moved out by myself after Hogwarts, and I tell you it was a quite a hassle trying to make the apartment clean enough for Gran's standards every time she visited."

Harry smiled back. "Even still, you were never as bad as the rest of us, mate. At Hogwarts you never left your clothes on the floor or your books all strewn about everywhere."

"Only because I feared that one of you would pull pranks on me," Neville said. He raised a finger to block Harry's protest. "And I might add that you did pull pranks on my stuff in the first and second year. I wasn't just being paranoid. I learned fast."

Harry laughed. "Fair enough, fair enough. Well, Ron and I weren't so used to cleaning up and I remember the mess would stack up. It was worst on my end. I'd stay home most of the time and lounge about while Hermione and Ron went around trying to build a foundation for their careers. They were happily busy, and I…"

"You weren't," Neville said tactfully.

Harry ruefully shook his head. "I was happily restless. Hell, I don't even know if I was happy but I was certainly restless. All I did was watch the telly and wait for Hermione and Ron to return home. I'd listen to their excited stories and smile and applaud them with all my heart."

"Hermione wasn't happy at your inactivity, she starts nagging you, and-" Neville guessed.

"No, it wasn't like that," Harry corrected. "We knew each other so well. She knew that the War had taken a lot out of me. She waited for me to get out of it myself for a handful of years. I didn't. She tried to push me to get out there and find out what I wanted but there was honestly nothing I wanted to do but be with my friends. In the end I took that consultant job in the Ministry for want of better things to do."

"Horrific decision," Neville said. "Still can't believe you did that."

"I know," Harry said. "The moment I stepped into that cubicle, I knew it was a mistake. I loathed that place. Still, I couldn't go back and tell them I changed my mind so quickly, you know? So I told myself I'd go back and quit after a few weeks. Weeks turned into months, months into years…"

"I'm just glad you got out when you did, mate."

"Thank Merlin. I didn't know it at the time, though. I was just miserable for months and months on end but I didn't want to admit it to anyone else. Didn't want to look like I couldn't cope in the grown up world, you know? Trooped on and stubbornly said I was just fine whenever anyone asked. No one does stubborn like I do, so eventually Ron and Hermione stopped asking. Hermione didn't like seeing me hurting, but most of all she hated being helpless to change it about me. She started burying herself in her work."

Neville whistled tunelessly. "So… life."

Harry nodded. "It wasn't her fault. I don't know what I would have done if I were in her shoes. I just remember the strong feeling of abandonment. I didn't handle it well." A beat passed. "Still don't, really," he admitted.

The silence filled the air between them once more as Neville sat there, digesting the information. He looked up at Harry. "Thank you for trusting me, Harry."

"You're my best friend, Neville," Harry said softly.

Neville smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder. "You know that Hermione isn't used to the media attention like you."

"Yeah."

"Fred told me what happened the last time you returned to the Burrow. You can't let it end like this."

Harry didn't answer. Neville wanted to say something but held back. Harry had to come to the decision himself, he decided. He could see the question behind Harry's eyes and the years of heartache was etched on his face. They sat there for a long moment as turmoil churned inside Harry's mind.

Neville saw the change in Harry's eyes. They firmed with resolve and he looked up at Neville, a grin slowly growing on his face. Neville smiled back and gave a hoot of triumph. A passing assistant turned to him in surprise but he gave it no heed.

"You're wearing the hero's armor," Neville said gesturing. "So, go be a hero!"

"Doctor Granger," a voice came from behind her. Hermione didn't turn from her desk. Her test samples seemed to have taken a step for the worse over the last week, and for the life of her she could not find out why. She was surrounded by her research papers and her desk seemed to be covered with hundreds of pages of notes. She intended to go through every line of her work from the beginning to see if she had made any mistakes.

"Doctor Granger," the voice insisted, and Hermione turned around. It was one of the new doctors on staff who specialized in biochemistry, and one of the handful of witches on staff.

"Yes, Doctor Chu?" Hermione asked. The woman held out a small scroll and placed it on her desk on top of her research material. Hermione glanced at it. 'To Hermione,' the scroll read, in an achingly-familiar handwriting. Despite her convictions, her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

"The owl's waiting for a reply, Doctor Granger," the woman said, smiling. "Shall I have it directed to your desk?"

Hermione stared at her desk. The sight of the scroll made her mind waver, but the papers under it also caught her eye. The research papers. Her work. I swore it was the past, Hermione told herself. Open that back up, Hermione, and you'll only be inviting trouble.

"No thank you, Doctor Chu," Hermione said, turning back to her colleague. "You can send the owl on her way. There won't be a reply."

A slight frown passed over her face, but the young doctor nodded and walked away from Hermione's desk. She pushed the scroll to the side and tried to return to her work. Formulas and test results flooded her mind once more, but try as she might Harry's letter stayed in the corner of her head.

The letter stayed in her mind, but everyone knew Hermione could give Harry a run for the tile of Most Stubborn. The letter remained unopened.

Harry visited the hospital every day for two weeks, and each time he returned home without success. Doctor Granger is too busy, the receptionist told him with a sympathetic frown. She will call you when her workload allows her some free time, the receptionist said.

Hermione never did.

January 2013

Hermione Apparated into the Weasley's living room and was immediately swept into a hug. She grinned happily and hugged Ginny back with all her strength.

"Congratulations," she murmured into Ginny's hair. The lively Weasley pulled back and smiled widely.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Hermione," Ginny said. The excitement in her voice was palpable. "I know you're busy-"

"Ginny, don't think of finishing that sentence," Hermione warned with a wave of her hand. "You don't get engaged every day! I made time. Speaking of engagements…"

Ginny smiled and raised her hand. The ring glittered in the light. They chattered and laughed over the jewelry as if they were young girls with nothing on their mind. It truly felt good to let go for a while, Hermione admitted. The past few months had been murderous. She had found one error in their work, and now they raced to regain months of lost time. It took so much of her time that she had asked for a sabbatical from the London Wizarding Hospital to fully devote herself to the work.

Tonight, Hermione promised herself, none of that mattered. Ginny was giddy enough for the both of them and her attitude felt infectious. Hermione found herself truly smiling, for the first time in what felt like forever. She was surrounded by almost all of the Weasleys (Ron being off on one of his Quidditch tours and unable to make it back to England). She felt at home.

They gathered in the living room, and Ginny's fiancé Patrick was in midst of an amusing anecdote when the pop of Apparation came from the kitchen. Hermione looked up at the sound. Ginny leaned in close.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered quickly, "I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier - I didn't even know if he had time in his schedule for-"

Harry stepped into the room, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry I'm late guys. I was caught up in the studio re-recording, you should've started without-" His gaze fell on Hermione and his breath caught in his throat. The smile disappeared, and an unreadable look crossed his eyes. "Me," he said softly.

Before the situation could get awkward, Ginny rose from her seat next to her. She began to speak rapidly and her hands gestured wildly in the air. Patrick rose and extended a hand toward the newcomer, but Hermione didn't hear a thing. Her eyes focused in on Harry and she drank in the sight. She hadn't seen Harry in months, afraid that her resolve would break once she drew close to the man. She was right.

It was Harry. Her Harry, and he was still her Harry, standing in the same room. He looked so worn out and tired, Hermione thought. Immediately she regretted her decision to leave his letter unread. He had extended a conciliatory hand, and she had slapped it away. She had struggled with the decision for weeks but had finally come to terms with her logical decision. And now, here he was, making her decision a mockery. Dinner began, and over her mashed potatoes Hermione realized that she could no longer hold to that conclusion.

For his part, he did his best to ignore her existence. He didn't look at her once and instead chatted to Ginny, Patrick, Fred, Molly, Arthur. He spoke wearily about the last minute preproduction recordings he was doing for his movie. He talked of filming in Australia and its trials and tribulations. He was the perfect guest, and the Weasleys pretended that the tension in the room simply wasn't there.

Dinner passed in a blur. Hermione knew that he would want to escape early and she stole away toward the restroom and waited. Sure enough, Harry began to make his excuses shortly after the group moved back to the living room. "Work beckons," he said with a smile.

Ginny stood up and gave him a hug. "Thank you so much for coming, Harry," she said.

Hermione could hear perfectly from her position in the hallway, and his response made her heart ache. "Nothing could stop me from coming to my friends' side, Ginny. I'm so happy that you're happy."

Hermione waited as the Weasleys talked to him in turn, thumping his chest and making him promise to return. Harry laughed softly and swore. Several moments later, Harry headed in her direction. Still hidden in the side room, she struggled with the decision to speak up. He passed her. She stepped out into the hallway.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said quietly. He stopped in his tracks. He turned around slowly and met Hermione's gaze.

"Well, you should be," Harry snapped back. His eyes burned with anger.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. It was a look that sent Harry back a dozen years at Hogwarts, when he would see that same expression on her face directed toward one of Ron's insensitive statements. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"I said that you should be sorry," Harry repeated.

"Do you want to get into this now?" Hermione said. Despite her previous thoughts, she could not help but get angry at his tone. She struggled to keep the volume of her voice low. She gestured around the Burrows. "Here?"

Harry seemed to have no such qualms. "Why not?" he shouted back at her. "Is this a bad time? We've already subjected the Weasleys to a row, maybe we can make a ritual of it. Every ten years, you can contact me out of the blue. We can try to reconcile and then you can shut me out whenever we run into a rough spot. You can forget years of friendship, years of love, and just throw me out of your life. That seems to be your favorite way of dealing with me!"

Hermione's expression changed to one of shock. She had not seen Harry so angry at her since… the time we broke up, she finished the thought.

"You don't know what I was feeling then, what I feel now," Hermione said. "Don't you dare trivialize what happened to us, and don't you dare presume to think you know my thoughts."

Harry's voice lowered, but his words were still charged with intensity. "You're right, Hermione," he said. "You're absolutely right. I don't know what you were feeling. But that's not my fault, is it? You shut me out! You and your damn logic decided to throw me and our relationship away and there's nothing we can do to change that now. I tried to apologize, Hermione. I tried to make it right. I blew off filming for half a month to try to explain. How did you respond? You shut me out. Again."

Despite her anger, despite everything, tears stung her eyes. At the sight, Harry deflated. He stopped raging and simply looked at her for a long moment. The sadness in his eyes was palpable, and Hermione swallowed. Even after the decade of estrangement, Hermione could still read his emotions.

"I never thought," Harry started to say. He grimaced, but the expression was gone in an instant. "I never thought for a moment that I would ever live without you. I never thought that I'd be a stranger to you."

But you aren't, Hermione wanted to cry out, you never have been. But she could not say it past all the heartache and months that lay between them. So she was silent and remained still as Harry Potter turned around and walked away from her.

Unable to face the Weasleys after that loud row, she Apparated out.

She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She turned to her side and stared at the electronic clock. The red lights noted 4 AM. She brought herself upright in bed and pushed her hair out of her face. The night's events played over and over in her mind. It had been like her conscience given voice and form. She closed her eyes and countless images and feelings assaulted her. Harry's hand clasped with hers. Harry's smile. The complex and utterly hopeful sensations that had danced in her mind when they had reconnected, after years of separation.

In the middle of the night - alone in her house - Hermione admitted he was right.

She got to her feet and headed to her study. The lights turned on automatically as she entered the room, a magical feature she had installed since Nelson no longer visited her home. Her desk was overflowing with papers from work, but for once in her life, her work didn't matter. She pushed the papers aside and reached for the very back of the desk. Her hands closed around a scroll that crackled as she placed pressure on it, and pulled it out of its place of hiding.

She opened the scroll and leapt into it without delay.

May 02, 2012

Dear Hermione,

How did we ever come to this? How did we let the media and all the world interfere with us? How did we let the years creep back into our lives, crippling us and forcing us apart? And our rehabilitation had been going so well. Being here away from you for so long made me recognize the truth. It's been hard to swallow, but I'll man up to my mistakes.

I'm sorry I wasn't there. You were right. Come hell or high water, I should have dropped everything and been there for you. There is no excuse. All I can say is that I'm sorry. I let life - the world - in between us. You should come first before everything and in the future, I swear you always will.

Being with you made me feel more alive than I have in years. A decade, really. I know you felt the connection sparkle between us once more. We'll kindle that spark and make it rage into a healthy flame once more. I know I need to have a gentle touch - if I handle the spark too rough, it'll disappear without a trace. But I'm patient. I can bear that duty. Let me.

When we were young, our love illuminated the world. I'm tired of being in the dark. I'm tired of being without you.

The past will always be there, Hermione. We will never be able to change the mistakes we both made. What we can change is how we greet the coming days. I don't want to do that without you.

I know we've hurt each other in the past. I know you're scared. So - let me prove my devotion. I'll come to you. I'll show you that you matter to me above all else. If you agree with anything in this letter, Hermione, just accept me back into your life. Let me be your friend again. Let me be your Harry again.

With Love,

Harry

She sat there, staring blankly at the wall. Then she acted.

She didn't even know where to start to look. It was too early to call Ginny, who would surely know the information she needed. She paced in her study for a few minutes as she tried to plan out her course of action. She scrounged through her materials for a quill and parchment and agonized over what to write. She stared at the final product, completely convinced it was exactly the wrong thing to say. Still, she rolled it up and closed it with her seal.

Neville! She stood up and quickly made her way to her mobile. She flipped it open and tapped in a number she hadn't called in ages. She hoped he was awake, but by her calculations it was still 8:30 PM in Los Angeles.

"Hello?" Neville said. There was a ruckus behind him, and Hermione pulled the phone away from her ear a bit.

"I hope I'm not calling at a bad time, Neville, but I'm in a fix," Hermione said. "I was hoping you could help me out."

"Well that depends entirely on what that would be," Neville answered. "You're my friend, Hermione, but if I had to take sides…"

"Trust me, Neville," Hermione said quickly, "I'd be on that same side. I've come to a decision I should have months ago, but I don't know where to go."

There was a long pause as he digested the information. "Harry's staying at the London Marriott, under the name Thomas Dresden."

A rush of relief flooded her senses. "I owe you one, Neville. Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Neville said. "Show me you mean it."

Hermione intended to. She rushed out of the door.

There was a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the knob but Hermione paid it no mind. She stepped forward and knocked loudly against the wooden door. There was no response. She looked at her watch and bit her lip. It was only 7 AM, and while she was used to earlier mornings because of her work she hadn't considered the idea that others could have different hours. Perhaps movie stars woke up at noon, Hermione thought, and he was still sound asleep.

She bit the bottom of her lip and frowned. This was a bad idea, she thought. She gave one more wistful glance at the hotel door then turned back toward the lift.

"Hermione?" Harry said, and she immediately turned around. He looked like he had just gotten out of bed, his head even messier than usual (if that was possible, a fleeting thought said in Hermione's mind).

"I know you don't like it when I get the last word, but you have to admit this is a bit ridiculous," he said. Despite his words, she noted that he no longer sounded angry.

Hermione's mouth opened and she couldn't figure out how to say the feelings she wanted to convey. "I… no, Harry, that's not why I came."

"Then why are you here?"

"I came here to apologize, Harry. I shouldn't have ignored you when you came back to England. I was being stupid."

"Water under the bridge," Harry said. She could tell from his tone that he didn't exactly mean it. He crossed his arms in front of him. "Is that all?"

Hermione shook her head. This was not going as she had planned. "No, Harry-" She stopped. "Can I say this inside? I'd rather not fuel the gossip mill any more than I have already."

Wordlessly Harry moved out of the way and Hermione walked into the room. The suite was beautiful but she didn't notice any of it. She noticed the small personal changes in the room. Pages, copiously marked with red pen, were spread out over the coffee table. A still steaming cup of coffee stood on a coaster on that same table. She stepped forward and sat on the couch. Out of the corner of her eyes, Hermione caught sight of a small, simple frame on the edge of the table. She picked it up. It was the picture they had taken so long ago, during graduation. The miniature Harry and Hermione smiled in delight and grabbed hold of each other.

A cough broke her out of her revelries. She looked up at Harry.

"Well?" Harry said. He gestured to her. "You're inside. Speak."

Now, facing Harry once more, she felt her stomach tingle with expectation. She had rehearsed, of course, but suddenly it felt like entirely the wrong thing to say. Her fingers unconsciously played over the edges of the picture frame. Where could she start? What could she say?

"I read your letter," Hermione finally said. "It's a little late, but I thought it needed a response." She pulled out a scroll from her bag and offered it to him. Harry nodded and leaned forward to take it. He held the scroll in one hand but made no movement to open it. His eyes remained fixed on her.

"It wasn't easy, that decision to ask you back into my life," Hermione said slowly. "I'd lived so long without you that I'd almost forgotten how strong our bond was. I missed talking to you and being your friend, but I think in my heart I really missed loving you."

A small smile broke out over his lips. He stepped forward and sat down at the other end of the couch. Encouraged, Hermione continued.

"I was so happy and in over my head. It felt like I had denied a part of myself for years and talking to you again after so many years had freed that part of me."

"It felt like I had been underground for so long I had forgotten what sunlight felt like," Harry said. Hermione blushed.

"Exactly that," Hermione said. She looked down at her hands and realized she was still fidgeting with the picture. Quickly she set it back on the table. "I know you must still be mad at me, Harry, but I wanted to come here and tell you that I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Harry said. She looked at him. He looked sad, and a little resigned. "I got it out of my system last night, I think."

"You have every right to be," she replied. "You should be."

Harry laughed slightly, and her heart fluttered at the sound. "I admit I was resentful for a few months. A tiny bit."

Hermione was glad he was amused, but it was still too fresh for her to joke about it. "I didn't expect the uproar, you know? We were famous in our teens but it never got so intrusive. I couldn't go home, there were so many cameramen. I had to stop working so it wouldn't disrupt the hospitals, and you know how much I love my work."

"I know it was rough, Hermione. I'm sorry you had to deal with it alone."

"I wasn't alone," she replied with a smile. "I had the Weasleys. They took care of me. It just felt like I was being punished for trying to have you again."

Harry's face darkened. "Rita Skeeter set us up," he said. "Maybe she was just lucky, or maybe she had a contact that told her about our messages. Still, she brought it all on our heads as revenge for what we did to her, so many years ago. I guess she's the type to hold grudges."

Hermione grimaced but quickly pushed the thought aside. It would be time for her revenge, soon. There were more pressing matters at present.

"I lashed out at you because it was convenient," she said. "My brain told me I would never have been involved with the paparazzi if I hadn't tried to talk to you again. I got that idea into my head and it riled me up, made me angry."

"You weren't wrong," Harry said softly. "It was because of me. You wouldn't have been hurt if it hadn't been me."

"You said it yourself. It was Rita Skeeter." Hermione shook her head. "You should never apologize for what your fame brings you. I used to handle it before, but I was just out of practice. Give me a few more months and it'll be nothing to me."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Months? Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded. "Will you let me back into your life, after I've hurt you so much?"

Harry smiled. "It's not fair, you know. I was ready to storm off in righteous anger, but seeing you here… You'll always be my friend, Hermione."

He got up and moved toward her and she instinctively stood up. They hugged for a long time. She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, reveling in the moment. She had missed this. She had missed being in his arms.

"If you want, you can take a guest bedroom," Harry said in her ear. "You look knackered."

Hermione opened her eyes and stepped back out of his embrace. "No, I'm okay. I just had one more important thing to tell you."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "What is it?"

Hermione gestured to his hand that still clasped her unopened letter. "Maybe you should just read it? I think I expressed it a bit better in that."

Harry opened the scroll and his eyes scanned the contents. It didn't take long. The letter was succinct.

"I know I'm thrusting this decision onto you," Hermione said. Her nervousness took control of her and she kept on talking. "I don't know if I'm overstepping the bounds of our friendship, especially since we just renewed it a minute ago. But I couldn't wait to tell you because it's important that-"

Harry stepped forward again and took her into his arms. Startled, she stopped mid sentence.

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry said. He smiled, leaned in, and covered her lips with his. Her mouth turned upwards into a smile before she raised her hands to his face and began to return the kiss in earnest.

The scroll fluttered to the ground unnoticed. It lay gently on the floor and uncurled slightly.

It read,

January 11, 2013

Dear Harry,

Will you carry the burden of tending to that spark? Will you care for it, nurture it, make it grow?

I'm ready to find out. I'm ready to place the spark in your care.

I love you, Harry Potter.

Always, your Hermione

THE END