Harry Potter and the Rousing of the Lion
Chapter 1 - Wake up to Life
It was a hot, dry day in Little Whinging, Surrey. The summer looked to be the like previous one, not a single cloud in the sky, only the smouldering heat emerging from the sun threatening to melt anyone or anything that stood under its rays. The only difference from the previous summer was the fact that the authorities hadn't implemented the hosepipe ban, so although it was close to being 40oC, you could see children playing in their yards with the hosepipes, water guns, build-it-yourself swimming pools, and the like. Noise and laughter could be heard coming from all over the place, except from Number 4 Privet Drive.
Inside number 4, it was business as usual. Like any summer, or any day, more accurately, you could see the long neck of a bony woman, Petunia Dursley, watching carefully the comings and goings of her neighbours, criticizing in exquisite detail everything she saw to her husband Vernon, a huge beefy man that sat down eating his cholesterol-filled breakfast before heading off to work.
"I tell you, Vernon, the nerve of some people, allowing their children to run around like savage beasts. I'm so glad our Dudders is now too old to be influenced by them."
"Dudley, influenced by them? Ha," began Vernon "Just as soon as he comes back from that boxing camp of his, he will sure teach those hooligans a lesson. I don't need to remind you, Petunia, that Dudley is exactly what every one of them dreams of becoming." He gave her a huge smile, downed his cup of coffee, and got up.
"Well, I'm off, not looking forward to spending too much time in the car in this heat." As he gathered his things, he stopped at the door and turned back to Petunia, "Is he dead yet?" He said while moving his head to see up the stairs towards the door of the smallest bedroom.
"Let's hope not, Vernon. If anything happened to him, you know we would never hear the end of it from his sort of people. We wouldn't want any of them coming around here. He knows when the meals are served, if chooses to stay in his room and stare out the window like he has done since he got here, then let him."
Vernon didn't look to happy about letting him be, as it were. You could say that he rather enjoyed grinding down on his nephew every chance he got. Somehow, though, this summer seemed different, when they picked him up, he got in the car and stared out the window. When they got home, he grabbed his things and without a word, he walked to his room, closed the door and sat down in front of the window staring off. He didn't act as if he were looking for something, or found the exterior interesting. He merely stared, not saying a word to anyone.
The abnormal boy they referred to so scathingly was Harry Potter, a skinny looking boy with messy black hair and emerald green eyes. Although considered abnormal by them, he was perfectly normal to anyone else. The only thing different about him was that he was a wizard. He was a wizard, who had just finished his fifth year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although the Dursleys hated having him in their home, you could say they had been "persuaded" to take him in. Since then, Harry's life had come as close to a living hell as it possibly could. He would usually stand up for himself and didn't allow himself to be bullied around by them, especially after learning of his gift. This summer, however, Harry came back to his hell home just having witnessed the death of his godfather, Sirius Black, with all life and fight appearing to have left him.
"I still think he's up to something, nobody stays in their room for three weeks straight! The only time I've seen him out of it he's either using the loo or the other day when he came down, filled a pitcher with water and walked straight up. His abnormality just seems to be getting worse."
"I don't know, Vernon, he looks depressed to me. Probably trying to call attention to himself."
"Yes, that might be it. The boy would have to be amazingly stupid to think such a ploy would work here! Just keep an eye on him, Petunia." With that he turned around and headed for work.
------------------
Harry could hear the sounds of his aunt and uncle downstairs. He could hear them, but he didn't listen. It didn't matter. At this point, nothing really mattered. Harry sat there, back straight, making himself uncomfortable as he watched the same images he had been seeing since his return from Hogwarts. It was as if someone had videotaped everything that happened last June in the Department of Mysteries and had left it playing and looping. Again and again Harry could see how his "stunt", for that's what he called it now, had gone wrong. Everything about it was wrong, and it cost him a lot more than he was willing to loose. He saw how his stubbornness had endangered his friends, but most of all it took Sirius away from Harry. All day, everyday, Harry replayed the look on Sirius' face when he was struck by the curse, and in slow motion how he fell through the veil, never to be seen again. Every time he saw it, Harry could only say a few words, "I'm sorry, it was my fault."
His stomach grumbled as it did every hour now, but Harry had come to believe that eating was a privilege he could do without. Why should he get to eat something when Sirius could no longer? Why should he be comfortable when it was his fault that Sirius was dead? Why should he be happy? Why should he feel at all? These and many other similar questions plagued Harry's mind as he saw the saw images yet again.
When his mind really got tired of replaying these images, they switched the channel to the talk Harry had with Dumbledore at the end of term. Needless to say, this didn't help matters any. Not only was he now responsible for the death of his parents, Cedric Diggory, and now his godfather, now it was expected or foretold that he was the saviour of the world.
"Great," he would say to himself, "acting the hero and having a saving-people-thing got my godfather killed, now Dumbledore expects ME to kill Voldemort! Why? Why is it always me? Why is it that Dumbledore or and ADULT can't take care of this? I mean, if I don't kill Voldemort he will rule the world. Ok, no pressure. YEAH RIGHT! Come on, I'm just a kid for Merlin's sake."
He would cry and complain to himself about this as well. By now, Harry was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He would always come back to consider giving up, to let someone else carry the burden. In the end, he knew he couldn't give up, not only because he never gave up before, but because he knew it would be a poor way to repay those that died because of him.
If he would have really been looking out the window, he would have seen a very small feathery ball bobbing up and down in front of him. He was shaken from his thoughts when the ball hit his forehead and started chirping loudly. Harry recognized it immediately as his best friend Ron's owl Pig, so he did what he did since the start of the summer. He fiercely grabbed Pig from the air as if he were a snitch, tore the letter from his foot, and calmly, yet forcefully, threw him out the window. Any other owl would have been highly irritated by this conduct, but it seemed Pig considered it a game of sorts so he chirped loudly outside and headed home. He had received several letters from Ron, but he never opened them, he just put them in pile on the top left had corner of his desk, and went back to replaying the same thoughts in his head.
Before long, the sky was dark, and the only lights Harry could see from his window were the yellow fluorescent lights coming from the street lights. While still slumped in his thoughts, his attention was called again by his white owl, Hedwig. Harry had sent Hedwig to Hermione in the beginning of the summer with instructions to stay with her. It was safe to say that the plan failed miserably. She not only wrote to him once or twice a day, but Hedwig refused to stay away from Harry for long, so she would come back at night, with a letter from Hermione, and dinner on her beak. She would drop the letter on Harry's hands, eat her catch in her cage, drink, and then take her place on his shoulder. She appeared to be looking for her master answer, never moving from her sentinel position until around noon, where she would fly to Hermione's. Sometimes Harry didn't realize, or better yet ignored, the new letter until Hedwig gave a hard squeeze on his shoulder where he would say "Oh, thanks" and place the letter on the top right hand corner of his desk. Like Ron's, he hadn't opened a single one of her letters, so the pile was now getting big. In the back of his mind, he was starting to tell himself he was being childish and stupid for ignoring those who obviously cared for him, but then he would think about all the people that had died because of him, and decided not to read or reply.
As every previous night, Harry fell to his regular uneasy sleep, sitting on his chair, dreaming of Voldemort, the Department of Mysteries, and Dumbledore. He had been dreaming the same weird scene for weeks now. He knew it wasn't anything important, it just reflected his state of mind. He would be standing in the entrance to the Ministry in front of the Fountain of Magical Brethren with Voldemort on one side and Dumbledore on the other.
"It's your fault you know, Potter," Voldemort would always start, "if you would have just done as you were told, he would still be alive."
Then he would laugh, but his laugh was not his own, but Bellatrix Lestrange's as her form took Voldemort's place.
"Oh, little Potty feels all alone now. Did you really think you could do something? Don't you know by now, against the power of the Dark Lord, there can be no victory." Then she would shriek with laughter.
"You killed him, I'll kill you the next time we meet! Count on it." Harry yelled back at her.
"Empty threat, Potter. You can't even get yourself to stand, let alone do anything to me." Her cackle getting worse.
Harry then turned to face Dumbledore and yelled at him, "You should have told me about EVERYTHING, then I would now WHY I shouldn't be coming here. You're not supposed to make mistakes. You're Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of this age!" By now, Harry was crying as well as screaming at Dumbledore. "You can't have me used to the idea that you know everything and then it happens that you made a mistake that cost ME my godfather. You sit there now crumbling your enlightened man image and in place start crying! I don't need you to cry, I need you to be strong and all-knowing as always."
The nightmare would get more emotionally draining when Dumbledore would look up, with a tear instead of a twinkle in his eye, and say, "Well, what do you want me to say, Tom's right, it is your fault that Sirius died."
Harry would be shaking in his chair while the nightmare continued. In it he would then turn to the fountain to find the witch and wizard playing paddy cake, while the house elf rode the centaur as if he were a bucking bronco. Confused, he would turn over to the fireplace, where it went from bad to worse. The fireplace would burst with green flames showing the people that went with him to the Department of Mysteries.
Flash! Neville's head would appear, "Gee, Harry, why did you bring us here? Did you want us to get killed?"
"Neville, I never wanted…"
Flash! Neville's head would disappear and Luna's would appear in his place, "Just because my father published your article doesn't mean you can gamble with my life, Harry."
"Luna, I wasn't…"
Flash! Luna turned into Ginny, "So, what, saving me from a basilisk wasn't big enough for you, you had to try against Death Eaters!"
Harry was starting to get angry at their accusations, "Ginny, you know…"
Flash! Ginny became Ron, "Damn it, Harry! You ALWAYS get me knee deep in Dragon Dung with your stupid adventures. Why don't you just give it a rest already with the Hero business and leave us alone?"
Harry knew who was next, and his anger turned into sorrow, for as many times as he saw her, he couldn't bear the thought of what she said actually happening.
Flash! Ron turned into Hermione, "Harry, I almost died because of you…"
Every time he heard her say this, he would fall of his chair and wake up. He would then remember Hermione's words and start to cry, while crawling to his bed. Once there, he would cry himself to sleep.
--------------
Hermione woke up from an uneasy sleep. She dreamed that she was trying to get to Harry. To help, to grieve with him. She would be standing outside a castle and would look up to find him sitting on a windowsill in the topmost tower. She could see no way to get to him but the stairs. So, she would run up the stairs as fast as she could, but not get any higher. Just when she thought she was about to reach his landing, the stairs turned into a slide and slid her all the way out of the castle. She would stand up to try again, only to find Harry's body sunk into the earth just bellow the windowsill he was sitting on earlier. Dumbledore would then appear and just say,
"You didn't get to him in time." Madam Pomfrey would then come and take Harry's body.
She would always wake up after this, never forgetting the outline on the ground that was left behind by Harry's body. She knew Harry was not well. He hadn't answered any of her letters, and from what she gathered from Ron, he wasn't writing to anybody. She could also confirm that with the arrival of Hedwig in the beginning of the summer. She hadn't forgotten Harry's words to her in his only letter to her.
Hermione,
Please take care of Hedwig for me. She's going to need someone to look out for her since I won't really be up to it.
I'm fine. Don't worry. See on the Platform 9 ¾ Sept. 1st.
Harry
Not only did she not believe that he was fine, the fact that he was saying he would see her until the end of the summer was not a comforting at all. She knew she had to do something, she just couldn't decide on what. She needed to be with him, but she knew that if she got there with the whole Order of the Phoenix entourage Harry would not only close himself off, he would be angry at her for it; neither of which was going to help. If she could just get to him on her own, she knew then she could do something to help. One thing she knew for sure, she could not stand idly by and wait for the worst to happen.
The sun was rising on the horizon, and as she it, she vowed to herself to see Harry today. She got up, showered, changed into denim shorts and sleeveless pink shirt, gathered her hair in a ponytail, packed a small bag, and went downstairs to her kitchen. She learned from an early age that it was always better to ask her parents for something when she had already done something for them. So she brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and began making some eggs. By the time her parents reached the kitchen, the table was set and breakfast was waiting for them.
"Wow, Hermione, everything looks wonderful," her mom said.
"And tasty," continued her dad having sampled a piece of bacon. They all sat down to enjoy the meal in the kitchen. By the time they were done and Hermione started to pick up the plates, her dad spoke.
"Ok, sweetie, out with it. What is it you want?"
"Me, what ever gave you the idea I wanted something? Can't a girl cook breakfast for her hard working parents?" Mr. Granger looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Ok, fine, now before you say anything, let me just say that I could have easily sneaked out to do it and had you both worried sick, but I chose not to."
"This doesn't bode well," Mr. Granger said under his breath.
"Now, as I told you before things in the wizarding world are somewhat hectic, and against his will, Harry is always right smack in the middle of it. Now at the end of last summer, Harry lost his godfather in an attack, something I'm sure he's blaming himself for. He won't talk to anybody and I've been having nightmares about what he might do if he doesn't get help. He needs a friend there with him, someone who will listen to everything he has to say and not judge it or reprimand him for it. More importantly, I think he needs a shoulder to cry on. So, having said all that, I want to go visit Harry, and stay with him for a couple of days."
The silence in the kitchen was nerve-wracking. She knew her dad was about to go ballistic with the idea of his only daughter staying a boy's house. However, their expressions were hard to read. They turned to each other, then to Hermione, then back to themselves. Hermione couldn't bare the silence anymore, so she spoke up.
"Ok, I'm done for now, you can say something."
"Well sweetheart, it not like we weren't expecting something like this." Hermione's eyes widened with shock "I mean' you might not know it, but you scream rather loudly sometimes in your sleep," her mother said.
"That's why we have been checking on you so much at night. Its just that you staying over part I'm not comfortable with."
"Dad, do you trust me?"
"Of course, sweetie. It's not just the fact that you would be alone with Harry, although THAT is big issue, it's also his relatives. I mean you could not find a worse family if you tried."
"Dad, I know that I'm asking for a lot, but I need to know for both our sakes that he's alright. I won't be able to rest before I know that."
Mr. Granger took a rather long sip from his cup, looked at Hermione intently, and then spoke,
"Ok, here are my conditions. You will take my cell phone. You will call the house everyday at 8 p.m. on the dot to make sure you're OK. You will call if there is any, and I mean any emergency, so we can go get you. Also, if that sorry excuse for a family does ANYTHING to you, you call me and let me know."
Hermione's face lit up when she heard her father talk. She wasn't too fond of calling home all the time, but she knew it was the best offer she could get. She got up, gave her father a great hug and big kiss and said "Thank you" a thousand times, then did the same for her mother.
"Well, we better get going, it's a long way to Surrey. Hermione, I see you're packed." She said glancing at Hermione's backpack just outside the kitchen. "By the way," she said looking at her husband, "you owe me lunch." Hermione looked from one parent to another to see what this could mean, but she shrugged it off.
-----------
With that the Grangers got into their car and drove. They called their secretary to tell her they would be arriving late due to a family emergency. As they drove, Hermione was rehearsing what she would say to the Dursleys when she got there. She knew they would not want to let her in, even less stay with them, but that the least of her worries. She was scared about her confrontation with Harry. Everything had to be done carefully, since he would surely be on edge. She was distracted by her father's voice calling her.
"We're here, sweetie. Now, here's my phone, and its charger. Don't forget, call if you need anything, or if anything happens. We'll be waiting for your call tonight. Oh, and here," he gave her a wad of money containing close to 300 pounds, "just in case."
"Take care of yourself, and of Harry," her mom said, giving her a kiss and hug. Hermione said goodbye, took a deep breath, and turned to walk up to the Dursleys' door.
As she walked up, she could tell that the garden needed tending. This meant they weren't forcing Harry to work. While this would generally be good news, right now it meant that Harry had nothing to distract himself with.
It was mid-afternoon, which meant Harry's uncle was still at work. That was good, since she considered it would be best to deal with Aunt Petunia than with Vernon. She walked up to the door and rang the bell. Apparently, Harry wasn't opening doors either since his aunt opened the door. She looked at Hermione, gave her a fake smile and said "No, thank you, not interested" and slammed the door before she could say anything. Hermione took another deep breath and rang the bell again.
Petunia was clearly annoyed with the fact that the girl didn't get the hint. "Like I said, not interested."
She was about to close the door when Hermione put her foot on the door and said, "I'm not selling anything. I'm here to see Harry."
If Aunt Petunia was shocked by her placing her foot in the door she was floored when she asked for Harry. "He's not receiving visitors at the moment, nor is he ever since he hardly ever leaves his room. So, kindly take your foot from the door and leave."
"I think you and I should talk inside," she told her.
"And why would I allow another freak inside my house, and even yet to have her talk to me?"
"Because although you'll never admit it, you know there's something wrong with Harry. I'm here to help him, although he doesn't know that yet. Most importantly though, because if you and I continue to speak out here, think what the neighbours might say," she knew that this last statement would make it or break it for her.
Petunia eyed her suspiciously, clearly weighing the options she had. Suddenly her glare softened and she moved aside to allow her inside. Petunia rapidly closed the door and ushered her into the living room. She took the hint, and sat directly in front of her and got straight to business.
"My name is Hermione Granger. I go to school with Harry. I would first of all like to thank you. I know that this was not an easy decision for you and that you probably don't care either way, but I thank you nonetheless. You mentioned Harry stays in his room. Could you tell me what he's been doing?"
Petunia was still eyeing her closely, "Ever since he got here he hasn't said a single word. All he does is sit in his room and stare out the window. He doesn't appear to be looking for anything, he just sits straight as a board, and stares. He's had about half a meal each day, by choice, mind you, the he fills a pitcher of water and goes back to his room. At night, I have sometimes heard him crying a bit. Now, go up, talk to him, and please leave before 8 since Vernon will be arriving at that time."
Hermione knew that she had to talk to her about her prolonged stay. "Look, Mrs. Dursley, I know that my being here is already a stretch for what you usually do for Harry, but you also now very well his problem won't get sorted in a couple of hours. I need to stay with him." Petunia's eyes grew wide at this, but before she could say anything, she continued, "We won't be doing anything like that. Harry needs to grieve over a recent loss close to his heart. I'm hoping he will open up to me, but I need some time. I swear that we will keep out of your way, as I am also willing to pay for my stay and the inconvenience."
Petunia stayed still and quiet. She knew how Vernon would react, not only giving Harry a female stay-over friend, but a witch nonetheless. In the end, Petunia knew she had to give something to Harry, at least this late in his life.
"Alright, Ms. Granger. I know that it will certainly not be alright with Vernon, but I think I owe Harry this. Never have I seen him so rundown, even with the harsh treatment we give him. I owe it to him and to my sister. He'll be an adult soon, and from what I hear he's kind of important to your lot, so just stay in his room until Vernon leaves. I will allow you to have lunch with us. Other than that, you're on your own."
"Those terms would be fine, and I thank you again."
As Hermione got up and walked to Harry's room, she thought about the conversation she had just had. She had been very respectful and thanked Petunia a lot, more than she deserved probably, but it was best to be civil. After all, if she got defensive right away, she would not have gotten anywhere. She also thought about her comment about Harry being "rather important to your lot." "You have no idea," Hermione said to herself.
She reached Harry's door and stared at it for a few minutes. This was what she came for. She had passed all the other obstacles, now it time to get to work. She was hesitant, and scared out of her mind thinking she might not be able to handle it. She thought of Harry and all doubt and fear left her, "He would do the same for me," she thought, and with that she opened the door and entered.
Once inside, she caught the smell of the room. The majority of the room was untidy, with clothes thrown all over the place, but the worst was where she saw Harry. He was sitting there, back straight, staring out the window. From his smell, she could see that it had been a while since his last shower. He was sitting in his boxer shorts and a T-shirt. His desk didn't have a single empty spot. It was covered with what looked to be about fifty unopened letters, the majority of which were hers. She walked closer and was now directly behind him. She could see letters from Ron, Remus Lupin, Ginny, Luna, Neville, even Professor Dumbledore's letters remained closed. On top of the pile was a long black scroll with gold lettering that read: Black Family Trust. She could tell this was not helping matters. She moved to his side and moved a hand in front of his face. He didn't move, as if he were a mannequin or something. If she hadn't had that conversation with Petunia, she would have been concerned. Seeing this was going to take longer than expected, she left Harry's room, found Dudley's room, carried a chair out of his room and took it into Harry's. She placed her chair besides the desk giving her back to the window and stared at Harry. It was important that he made the first move, or he might quickly lose his temper, and everything would go downhill from there.
So she sat there, looking at him and wished every five minutes she was a legimens. The sky had turned black and Hedwig came in with her dinner. Hermione could see Harry was still looking out the window, so she grabbed a sandwich from her bag and ate a piece. By the time she was done with her sandwich, she saw Harry had dozed off. What scared her the most was that Harry maintained his posture. After a while, he began to shake. Hermione was clearly alarmed and figured now was the time to jump in when she saw him fall to the floor. He took hold of Harry's arms and called to him. She kept at it until his eyes opened in shock, looked straight at her, and said, "I'm sorry, Hermione," and with that he began to cry, and although he had tears still flowing from his face, he was now asleep. She had tears falling freely down her cheeks. She amazed herself when she carried Harry over to his bed. She cradled his head in her arms and rubbed his back slowly, just as she remembered her mom used to do to her when she had a nightmare when she was younger. She could feel him start to relax under her touch.
"Shhhh, Harry, I'm with you now." And with that they both fell into the most comfortable sleep they had had in a long while.
--------------
By the time Hermione woke up, the sun had risen, and noise could be heard coming in through the window. She glanced over to the clock on Harry desk to find it to be almost noon. She amazed herself at sleeping this long, then looked down at Harry, whose head was still on her lap.
"I guess we both needed a goodnight's sleep," she said, as she gently stoked his hair. He was still asleep, and he seemed calm, as if he got a break from carrying a huge load by himself. Hermione knew this assessment was not far from the truth. She wanted to go the loo, and perhaps change, since she was still wearing what she wore the day before. She convinced herself she should wait, she wanted to, no needed, to be there when Harry woke up. He was more relaxed now; he would be easier to approach as he was instead of trying to wake up a life-size doll. So she continued to move her fingers through his hair, trying to massage his head at the same time. He started to stir, but kept his eyes closed. He reminded her of Crookshanks, her cat, who moved like this when she petted him.
"Mmm, that feels good," Harry spoke, "it's a shame I'm still dreaming."
He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes slowly as he sat up on his bed, back towards the door. He couldn't see very well since didn't have his glasses on, which he didn't remember having removed, but he saw someone in front of him, someone who handed him his glasses. "I must still be dreaming," he thought as he put his glasses on. The person came into focus to reveal Hermione giving him a shy smile. He looked away from her shaking his head in disbelief. He looked back, and she was still there. He stared at her, pinched himself, and yelled.
"Holly Hell!" he screamed as he fell backwards out of his bed, rolled and smacked the back of his head against his door.
"Well, it's nice to see you, too," she said, giving him an even bigger smile.
"What are you doing here? When did you get here? How did you get past the Dursleys? Why are you in my room?"
"Harry, calm down. Ok. I got here yesterday, your aunt allowed me to stay, and I'm here because, although you'll probably never admit it, you needed a friend to be with you," she finished softly.
"Well, I appreciate your concern and all, but I'm fine. I'm dealing with things on my own perfectly well," he said, not looking at her and stared out the window. "Thanks for dropping by, but as you can see, I'm very busy. I'll see you at the start of term, alright?" With that he got up, opened the door for her, and went and sat down in his chair, straight as a board and looked out the window.
Hermione couldn't decide if this was good or bad. She was expecting him to be like before, full of anger and rage, but his expressionless face and empty voice sent a shiver down her spine. She got up, and went to use the restroom to freshen up. This was going to be a long day. She went back to Harry's room, picked up the empty pitcher, and walked down to the kitchen. It was empty, as was the rest of the house, which made her feel uneasy. She shrugged it off, filled the pitcher with lemonade from the fridge, made a couple sandwiches, and went back to the room. She placed the pitcher and the plate with sandwiches on the desk, and sat exactly like she did yesterday. For now, she would play it his way, but soon she was ready to take drastic measures.
It had been three days since the "silent treatment" started, and she was just about ready to call it quits. By now she had memorized every detail of his face, from the length of his scar, to the wrinkles on his forehead, to his empty, cold, green eyes. Those eyes were always full of love, full of life. You could feel the heat coming from them when he looked at you. Now they were a barren wasteland, devoid of the life they had before. She still cuddled him at night, since he had fits just like the day she got there. When he woke up, he would say two words "Hi" and "Bye." It was only the conversations she had with her parents at night that kept her from going insane.
As the fourth day started Hermione showered, changed, and was ready for action. She didn't bother to bring any food or drink this time; she walked straight into the room and closed the curtains.
"Do you mind, I was kind of watching that," she heard him say.
"Well, if you want to be able to see China from here, you won't be able to. Now, look at me."
He didn't move. He took a deep breath and stared at the closed curtains.
"Then, I'm sorry for this, Harry."
SLAP! She slapped him hard across the face. Harry turned to her, not with an angry glare, but with a confused and shocked expression.
"Snap out of it, Harry! This isn't helping you to deal with anything. It's simply destroying who you are! Can't you see that there are people who care for you?" she said as she threw a handful of letters in his face. Hermione was crying now, "Can't you see that they need you? That your friends need you? That I need you?"
"Hermione, you don't understand. It's my…"
"Stop it, Harry. Stop right there. What happened isn't your fault! Every tragedy that has happened to you in the past is not your fault. You can't blame yourself for everything that happens. Blaming yourself won't change things. It doesn't matter how much you want things to have been reversed, or anything like that, things are the way they are for a reason."
"I thought you didn't believe in all that divination, destiny crap," he said, his voice still with a heavy, empty tone.
"I don't, not really. But don't you understand? You can't worry yourself over what you can't control. You can't control who lives or dies, nobody can. All you can do is be thankful for what they did while they were here. Treasure the memories, but use them to make you stronger, don't allow them to consume you."
"That's just it, Hermione, I told Cedric to take the cup with me, and what happened? He got killed. I ignored you and everyone else and allowed myself to get tricked and led all of you into danger and got Sirius killed! It was all my fault. I mean, YOU almost died because of me," he finished, remembering his dreams as single tear dropped down his cheek.
"Look at me, Harry, damn it, look at me!" He turned towards her. "You took the cup with Cedric because neither of you was going to allow themselves to be sole victor. That's the kind of person you are, the kind of person Cedric was. He was older than you, Harry, and I'm sure, seeing the kind of person he was, he would have looked out for you instead of himself. I could almost say that if Voldemort gave him the choice of who died, he would never pick you." Harry looked down at the floor, as she continued. "It was the same with Sirius. He had to be there for you, and I'm sure he would give up anything for you, even his life, just to make sure you were ok, and had a future. He loved you, Harry, as a son. He wouldn't want you to forget to live, just because of what happened."
Harry looked up at her "Dumbledore once told me it does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget to live. Why is it that those who love to me too much have to die? Am I destined to be alone, to die alone?" he was crying harder and fell to the floor.
Hermione was quickly at his side and wrapped him in huge hug and he wept on her shoulder. How could she respond to his questions? It was always Harry who lost someone dear to him.
"That's it, Harry, let it all out. Not everyone that loves you has left you, and you are most certainly not alone. Some are right here with you, and those passed on never leave you. You can always feel them and hear them here," she said, crying with him and placing his hand on his chest. "I'll always be here with you, Harry, if you'll let me."
Hermione was pouring out her soul to Harry. Telling him everything she felt for him, every way she loved him. For she had known for a while now that she loved him. She never said anything, nor acted like it, but at the moment she didn't care. She broke down with him and cried. Both clinging on to each other for comfort.
--------------
A couple hours later, Harry stirred in Hermione's arms. Se looked down at him to see a glimmer of her old friend back. She knew this would take time after all.
"Feeling better?"
"A bit, yeah."
"Good, that means you can get up and hop in the shower while I make us some lunch, ok?"
"Alright." He didn't feel too much like arguing with her after all she had done for him. Also, after taking a whiff of his armpit, he could see that he clearly needed it. So, he got up and went into the bath room.
As he closed the door behind him, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was a mess. His eyes looked tired, the skin was hanging of his bones and his hair was all over the place. He felt like Remus Lupin, his former Hogwarts professor and friend, must feel after his werewolf transformations.
"At least that didn't change much," he said to himself as he jumped into the shower. The warm water was reminding him of all stiff muscles and joints he had gotten due to his routine. It was nice to step out and feel clean and new. He still hadn't gotten the closure he needed, but it was a work in progress. He knew very well that it was thanks to Hermione. She came when no one else did. She came for him. She saved him from himself. He remembered everything she said. He never knew she felt that way. He thought he would feel surprised or awkward towards her after hearing this, but he didn't. As he shaved the few hairs on his face, he thought back to the first time he met her. So she was a bossy know-it-all at first. This Harry knew by now to be her defence mechanism against those she didn't know. As they became friends, she was always there to help him out. She would always worry about him when he got hurt, which he now felt bad for, since it happened a lot. She was always there for him, she believed him without question. She would follow him, even with her reservations, to every stupid and dangerous adventure he ever thought of. She was always by his side. His one true constant. Ron came and went depending on his mood and insecurities, Dumbledore was no longer perfect, Lupin couldn't always be there for him because of Order business, and the others well, they didn't know him that well. Hermione did though. She could look at Harry and know what he was thinking. She was his rock.
"Great," he said as he slapped himself on the forehead, "it only took you five years to figure that what you were always looking for was right in front of you." He got up, and left for the kitchen.
-------------------
As Harry was in the shower, Hermione got a piece of parchment a quill and wrote a long letter to Dumbledore. When she finished she walked over to Hedwig and tied it to her leg.
"I'm sorry to be such a bother Hedwig, but I really need this to get to Dumbledore quick. It just might be next small step to make things better for Harry."
Hedwig gave her an understanding hoot and sped off through the window.
"I just hope he agrees with me and does things like I planned. It should be easier for him."
---------------
Hermione was sitting there, waiting for him. She prepared a couple cheese and ham sandwiches for them to go with the cold lemonade in their glasses. They ate in silence, as Harry watched Hermione carefully. She knew he was looking at her, but wasn't sure what it was all about. She decided to speak before her insecurities started to get the better of her.
"What is it?"
"Thank you, Hermione, for everything. I'll never forget what you did for me."
She smiled at him with her perfect smile. "I'll make it up to you someday, everyday," Harry thought to himself, "not because I have to do it or should do it, but because I want to do it. I just have to starting thinking about how to get started."
"So, what do we do now?" Harry asked.
"Now we wait and rest, tomorrow will be another long day, but with a little help, it just might help you along. Tomorrow, we finish old business. We have to finish old business before starting new business, just remember, Harry, baby steps."
He laughed at her softly, she got all business like all of a sudden, back to her old self, but he was game. Anything that she thought would help was welcome. It was probably going to be hard, but he knew she would be beside him, and with her, he could face anything.