Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
A/N: For those who asked why Hermione didn't just tell Harry: From what I know about memory loss, a person needs to find their memories naturally and not have it forced on them. Plus, they shouldn't panic about not remembering (which they will, if people tell them things they just don't remember at all. Being told something happened isn't like remembering something happened.) Besides, where's the fun in that? ;-)
For Gil, aka Romulus Lupin- Happy belated birthday, dear! *glomps*
Part 2: The Same and Yet so Different
2 weeks later…
Hermione entered the pub, glanced around, and smiled when she saw Ginny waving from a corner. She waved back and made her way over to the table, putting down her bag and slipping into the opposite chair.
"Hey, Hermione, how are you holding up?" Ginny asked sympathetically.
Hermione sighed and let her shoulders slump before looking up at Ginny with a rueful smile. "You know, I never thought it would be so hard to have to go through a day without Harry's kisses."
Ginny smirked. "Not to mention all the hot sex every night, right?"
Hermione blushed slightly and laughed. "That too." She sighed. "I don't know. I mean, Harry's been my best friend for so many years and he still is, no matter how else I might feel about him. It's just- different. I miss the guy I'm in love with and yet Harry's around, and I love him but it's just weird now." She stopped and then made a face. "That didn't make much sense, did it?"
Ginny laughed. "Not much, but I understand what you mean. You miss the Harry who's madly in love with you, but love the Harry that's just your best friend."
"Right in one." Hermione sobered and looked down, toying with the straw of her drink. "You know, it's funny, I never realized how much strength I got from just being held at the end of the day. You wouldn't think it would make that big of a difference, but it does, it really does."
Ginny smiled. "Hang in there, Hermione. It's not like this is permanent. You'll have your Harry back in no time, believe me."
Hermione's lips tightened slightly as she spoke quietly. "You know that's the only thing that's keeping me going. I have to believe that everything's going to work out fine to go on."
"Hey, Hermione, listen to me." Hermione looked up and met Ginny's eyes. "It'll work out. You and Harry falling in love and getting engaged wasn't just chance; you two are destiny. It'll happen. Again, that is."
"Thanks."
Harry was alone in the flat for the first time since his accident. Hermione and Ron had always been careful to make sure one or other was with him, just in case he remembered something or wanted to know something. Even now, Ron had been with him until he'd received a Floo call from Fred saying they needed his help on something at the store and Ron had left, assuring Harry that Hermione should be back within the half hour.
Harry had waved Ron away with a grin, saying he was a big boy and perfectly capable of being alone without setting the place on fire or something. Ron had laughed and grinned back before leaving.
So now he was alone.
Harry wandered rather aimlessly through the flat for a minute before returning to the general sitting room area, his attention drawn, as it tended to be these days, to the pictures lining the mantelpiece.
The center picture was the only one he remembered being taken, the last weeks before the final battle, of the three of them, himself in the center. They were smiling but there was a seriousness in their eyes that spoke of the danger and the uncertainty that was hanging over them all, like a cloud. He remembered those days, the tenseness of knowing that sooner rather than later, they would strike- and he would come back, a murderer or not at all... He remembered it like it was yesterday… but then to him, it had only been a few weeks ago… He only knew it was more than a year ago because other people had told him.
The other pictures Harry couldn't place in his memories at all, knew they must have been from recently, which, in itself, didn't bother him overly much. The Healer at St. Mungo's and then Hermione had explained his situation and assured him it was temporary and not to worry about it. While that had been a little difficult at first, in the past week he'd come to realize, with a philosophy that surprised him, that worrying wouldn't help him remember.
One picture, in particular, drew his attention. It was just of himself and Hermione, smiling. What rather bothered him was that it had been taken somewhere he couldn't remember having visited. It wasn't anywhere in England; he could tell that from the tropical looking appearance of the beach he could see behind them He just couldn't understand why if they had gone on vacation, there weren't other pictures of the three of them together. But then, he rationalized, Ron did like taking pictures more than either himself or Hermione did and moreover, it had most likely been a short visit and there might not have been time or the opportunity to have some other passing witch or wizard to take their picture.
What struck him as odder was the fact that the majority of the pictures on the mantelpiece were of just himself and Hermione. There were a few pictures of the Trio, one of their year of Gryffindors, one of the Weasleys all together, one of the three of them with some members of the Order. But the other pictures were all of himself and Hermione. And while there was nothing odd in that, given that he and Hermione were best friends and had been for years, he wondered at the general lack of Ron.
Feeling himself beginning to worry, he dismissed those pictures from the mantelpiece from his mind and, to distract himself and because he could feel the melancholy begin to grow, decided to go to Hermione's bedroom. He knew she wouldn't mind, provided he didn't snoop into her desk or anything. Also, he had discovered that Hermione's bedroom, even in her absence, seemed to retain some of her spirit, and was comforting, comfortable.
It was as neat as anyone who knew her would have expected Hermione's room to be, a pile of books on her desk, along with papers mostly covered with her neat handwriting. Her nightstand was bare except for a single picture, one he couldn't remember seeing before and he moved to get a closer look.
It was a Wizarding picture but in it, neither he nor Hermione was moving, because they were asleep. He had apparently fallen asleep on a couch, as had Hermione, because she was leaning on him, his arm around her shoulder. They looked like the picture of contentment and relaxation, he thought with a smile. He studied Hermione's face in sleep, reflecting that he'd never really noticed the difference to her waking expression. In sleep she was at peace, her eyes closed hiding the activity of her mind. She was beautiful when she was that relaxed, he suddenly thought, surprising himself. Hermione, beautiful? He didn't think her ugly, of course; she was pretty, but since when had he thought her beautiful?
He heard the door open at that moment and Hermione's voice. "Harry? Ron? Where are you?"
He dismissed his thought to hurry and greet Hermione at the front entrance, where she was hanging up her cloak.
She smiled when she saw him, her smile warming his heart and he suddenly realized how glad he was to see her, even after this relatively short absence. "Hi Harry." She glanced around. "Where's Ron?"
"Hey. Ron got a Floo call from Fred saying he and George needed Ron's help on something at the store so he left about 20 minutes ago."
"Oh."
Hermione looked slightly nonplussed so he hurried to say, "I told Ron he could go. I'm not a 5 year old that can't be trusted to be home alone for a little while, you know."
Hermione smiled. "I know that, Harry. Oh by the way, Ginny says hi."
"How is Ginny?"
"Oh, she's fine. She and I met up for a drink and to talk, which is why I'm a little later than usual today."
Hermione sat down and looked at Harry. "So what did you and Ron do while I was out?"
Harry shrugged. "Nothing too exciting. We talked, played some wizard's chess at which he beat me easily, no big surprise there." He paused, before pointing to the pictures on the mantelpiece. "Where was that picture on the end taken?"
Hermione looked where he was pointing although she already knew which picture he was referring to. "It was taken on Capri Island, down in Italy. We went down there for a day trip about 6 months ago." She managed a bright smile. "Anacapri is such a lovely place." She didn't mention that it had been something of an impulsive decision to spend the day together, just after they had gotten engaged. It had been a wonderful day of kisses, holding hands, quiet conversations, good food, and just being together away from everything and everyone else.
"Ron's a good photographer," Harry said, smiling, though his eyes were still on the photographs.
Hermione's smile faltered a little. "Yes, he is," she said in a forcibly bright tone. "I think he's been practicing." She hated that she felt uncomfortable around Harry, always watching what she said and did, never able, now, to completely be herself because she loved him but he didn't remember that. He didn't remember… She sighed softly but then quickly smiled as Harry turned his gaze from the pictures back to her. "How about watching something on the telly, Harry?"
"Sure," he said, turning and reaching for the remote with one hand and settling back in the couch facing the television. "You sound a little tired, Hermione," he said, glancing back at her, as he turned the telly on.
"I'm fine, Harry. It was just a bit of a long day at work, that's all."
Harry reached over and squeezed her knee briefly, as he'd sometimes done when they'd been up late studying at Hogwarts. "Don't work too hard. You know I don't like to see my girl exhausted."
Hermione didn't answer, pretending to be engrossed in the television. Moments like this were the hardest, when Harry was his usual caring self, dropping casual friendly touches and phrases like "my girl" that meant nothing to him, but so much to her because she knew and remembered touches that weren't platonic at all and other words and phrases of love that he'd spoken.
A movie was playing on the telly, one that Harry appeared to be enjoying as he was smiling and laughing occasionally. Her mind registered none of it. Instead she occupied herself with studying him. Harry, her best friend, her lover, her fiancée, who only knew that he was her best friend. It was so odd that he looked exactly like the man she was in love with, the man she knew loved her, and yet acted so different in some ways. His hands with the long, graceful yet strong fingers that she'd loved to watch catching the Snitch long before she discovered the magic they could work on her body by their touch. His eyes that she was so used to seeing look at her with love in their green depths that made it so hard and so hurtful to see them looking at her with only friendship. His lips that she'd watched as they said "I love you" and "Will you marry me?" and now only ever said casual words of friendship and good humor. The lips that had kissed her with such tenderness and such passion, that now only smiled.
Hermione sighed silently. She didn't know how to look at Harry and see only her best friend now. She saw him as her lover, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with…
Ron entered the house quietly, hearing the sounds of the television from the living room, and entering unseen and unheard by either of them. Harry was apparently engrossed in the movie and Hermione was engrossed in Harry. He saw the wistful expression on her face as she studied Harry, suddenly realizing how difficult this must be for her, to have their relationship go back to what it had been before they had fallen so much in love. They had had the kind of love that would make anyone jealous, the kind of love that practically was stamped Forever; and now, because of a freak accident, Harry had forgotten but Hermione had not. She remembered and she still loved and was hurting because of it. He sighed, deciding he had to do something to help Harry and Hermione get together. He just didn't know what. He stepped forward, saying, "Hello, you two," as he did so.
Harry and Hermione both turned to smile at him, Hermione with a look of unmistakable relief in her eyes. Being alone with Harry was hard for her these days.
"Ron, there you are. I just thought of something." Ron and Harry glanced at each other with shared grins over how often they had heard Hermione say those words or something similar. "Tomorrow's Sunday, so I was thinking we could all go visit Hogwarts. We could Floo into Hogsmeade around lunch time, have lunch there, and then go visit the school. I'm sure Professor McGonagall wouldn't mind and we can see all the places we used to know so well, just the three of us. What do you think?"
"Sounds great, Hermione. It'll be almost like old times again," Harry enthused.
Ron had an idea. This would be the perfect way to throw the two together for a long period of time, something he was sure would, if not make Harry remember everything, go a long way in pushing the two together, since he was sure that Harry did love Hermione; he just didn't know it. "It does sound like fun, but I don't think I can make it. Fred and George asked me to help them go over the Inventory of their new products tomorrow so they can be organized and put on the shelves by Monday morning," he said, thinking quickly and improvising. Fred and George had said something about new products; they just hadn't mentioned when they would be going on sale in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes yet. Oh well, what Harry and Hermione didn't know wouldn't hurt them. He stifled some amusement at their differing expressions. Harry looked a little disappointed but otherwise unaffected. Hermione looked downright terrified at the idea of spending a day in Harry's company with no one else to take the edge off. He could tell she was frantically trying to come up with reasons why they shouldn't go unless he was with them and cut her off by speaking. "It sounds like a great idea, Hermione. Remember the Healer said familiar places might help him remember. You guys go and have fun on your own, I insist. Hermione, you've been working so hard, you deserve a day off."
Hermione was trapped and she knew it. She forced a cheerful smile. "Okay, if you're sure. This will be great, won't it, Harry? I've missed the old castle and Hogsmeade."
And with that it was settled. A perfect day of reminiscing, old friendships and complete and utter torture, Hermione thought.