For some strange reason, this chapter utterly baffled me. I had terrible writer's block, so forgive me if it's not my best work. I know it's not.
Despite that, I had loads of fun writing it. Thanks for all the cheering reviews. The constructive critisism was also taken well into account.
* * *
Nearly all of Hermione's fears had been left behind at the train station, she realized, as they whirred by the lakes and forests and beautiful mountain ranges back to London. The weather was being decidedly difficult, one minute pouring rain and the next shining as brightly as though it hadn't showered in weeks. The sea of grass outside was glistening with dewdrops.
'This is the same compartment,' said Harry suddenly. He looked at Ron, then at Hermione. 'Where we first met.'
So it was. All three of them looked around as though trying to find a remnant of their past. Hermione pulled Crookshanks up on her lap, burying her face into his sweet-smelling ginger fur. Suddenly, Ron laughed.
'You were so keen on finding Trevor,' he said, addressing Hermione. 'Nearly bored us to death with your little introduction speech.'
'I was nervous,' said Hermione weakly. She turned to Harry. 'You were - I mean, are - Harry Potter. I felt so embarassed. I had never met someone famous before - you were in so many books, you can't even imagine -'
'Look at this, she's still embarassed in front of you, mate!' cried Ron, laughing as Hermione huffed indignantly.
'Oh, sod off,' she spat. 'For your information, I was trying to defend myself. I had a hard time when I was eleven.'
'Because no one liked you?' offered Ron innocently.
Hermione flushed a deep crimson and retorted, 'No, because I was more mature than most of my peers. Honestly.'
'Well, we know Ron and Hermione are back to normal,' said Harry loudly, grinning. 'They're fighting ... again.'
Hermione had to agree with Harry. As soon as she started bickering with Ron, everything was fine. It was when she dropped her dagger and confessed her undying love for him that there was a problem. Harry caught her eye and grinned.
'Don't you go joining her side,' Ron warned.
Harry laughed. Hermione glared at the both of them.
The compartment door slid open.
'Anything off the trolley, dears?'
* * *
They arrived at King's Cross sooner than she expected. Hermione felt like they had stepped into a different world. Out of habit more than anything, Hermione peered around the station for any sign of her parents. When she realized what she was doing, she swallowed and closed her eyes tightly.
The first step was the hardest, she supposed, but admitting that didn't make it easier. She searched out Harry's thin figure and moved closer.
The Weasleys came bumbling into Hermione's view and she smiled as Ron was swept into a monstrous hug by Molly. Even the twins seemed happy to have him coming home. Ron was rather pink and had lipstick all over his face when he returned to Harry and Hermione. He hastily wiped off Molly's kisses.
'We'll see each other all the time, I promise,' said Ron firmly.
Hermione watched as Harry and Ron exchanged a brotherly hug. Ron turned to Hermione and embraced her tightly, kissing her hair.
'I never really thanked you, did I?' he asked her. 'You saved my arse a dozen times over. Or more, I suspect.' He smiled down at her, and then addressed both she and Harry. 'D'you know where I'd be without you two? I'd probably be scrubbing floors in the Leaky Cauldron, hoping for lost change. I guess what I wanted to say is ... thank you. For everything.'
Hermione only smiled, lost for words. Harry looked withdrawn.
'Well, I have to go,' said Ron. He looked reluctant to leave them. 'Come and visit anytime. You know where to find me.'
Harry grinned. 'Get a job, moocher.'
Ron winked good-naturedly, turned around, and walked into the crowd.
* * *
It really struck Hermione how different life was as a duo rather than a trio. She supposed the feeling came to her immediately after Ron's departure. Physically, of course, it felt no differently. It was the emotional difference that seemed to set it apart from everything else. It was melancholy, naturally, but not overwhelming. It surprised her somewhat, as she expected it to be traumatizing; but somehow, she had managed to keep her feelings intact.
She was drained. All she wanted to do was lay down on a soft, comforting mattress and sleep for years. The excitement of last evening and this morning had exhausted her more than she was willing to admit. Her limbs were tired, her muscles were tired, and even her bones seemed tired (as illogical as that appeared to be). She sighed softly.
'Do you want me to carry you?' asked Harry as they walked past a quarreling couple on their way to the exit. He looked at her and she saw that his face was serious. She would have believed his sincerity if it wasn't for a gleam of frivolity in his eyes. She wondered if it wouldn't be too prudent to accept his offer.
'You're terrible,' said Hermione. She struggled not to laugh.
They exited out the front doors of the station and peered across the parking lot. She wondered how they were going to travel. Both she and Harry knew it would be impossible to Apparate, as only Harry knew where the new house was.
It must have showed in her face, as Harry said, 'We'll take a portkey to the house. Dumbledore made one just for the occasion. He seemed very happy to help.'
'That's kind of him.'
Harry nodded.
'I have to make a few stops first,' said Harry, looking rather apologetic. 'I know you're tired, but we'll get to the house soon enough. You'll love it,' he added hopefully.
Hermione knew she would. It was never a question in her mind.
'I thought we could look around the town,' said Harry. 'You know, get used to our neighborhood. We can buy furnature and everything.' He gave her a little lopsided grin. 'I'll let you do the decorating. I can barely dress myself fashionably, let alone an entire room.'
'That's not true,' Hermione protested firmly. 'Besides, what's going to happen when I get my own place and you're left with my handiwork?'
Harry brushed this off casually. 'I'll like anything you'll do, I assure you.'
'You still have to help.'
Harry nodded. 'I know.'
Before Hermione could say anything more, he said, 'I have a perfect idea. Let's get some ice cream!'
Hermione looked into his joyous, dancing eyes and just couldn't say no. She smiled. 'Sounds great.'
'After you,' he said, and they Apparated off to Diagon Alley.
She knew he was being chipper for her benefit, and she was grateful. More than anything, she felt appeased and relaxed. She wondered why she had even thought to turn down the offer of living with him - after all, everything seemed so perfect now. It was mystifying how easily he could persuade her of that.
Florean Fortescue was so delighted to see Harry that he bought him an ice cream on the spot ('And one for the pretty young lass, too,' he said with a wink). Blushing furiously, Hermione followed Harry to a small table and ate her ice cream quietly. She had to admit it was the best she had ever tasted.
'Are you feeling better?' asked Harry kindly.
Hermione was unable to speak for a moment, so great was her gratitude.
He peered deep into her eyes. 'But if you aren't, I understand. I don't expect to make miracles happen.' He gave a dry little laugh.
Hermione leaned forward in her chair, smiled sincerely, and kissed his cheek. 'You don't need to.' She pulled back and said, 'You've never given up on me, and that's a miracle enough.'
'Likewise,' said Harry.
They were silent for a long moment. Hermione felt a large raindrop hit her nose. She looked skyward.
'We'd better get going before it really starts pouring,' Harry said. She followed his gaze to a large gathering of ominous gray-streaked clouds in the distance. A few more raindrops splattered on the pavement and sidewalk. Hermione nodded her assent.
Harry pulled out a tissue from his pocket.
'Portus.'
* * *
The house was ancient. Nearly everything from the porch to the window shutters needed repair. The glass had been broken and taped back together and the door would no longer lock, seeing as it swung wildly in the windy afternoon. The yard was full of weeds and the browning grass went to their waists. There was an eerie whistling sound as the breeze rushed through a crack in the wall.
It really was a magnificent house, despite all of its problems. It had a lovely yard that seemed to stretch for miles. The cobblestone of the walkway was still intact, and next to it was a large section of rich-looking dirt that Hermione supposed had once been a garden. In the distance she could hear the faint lullaby of a rushing river.
'It's definitely a project,' said Harry. He sounded nervous of her reaction. Hermione wondered why he should be. He was doing her a favor, not impressing her with a mansion made of gold.
'It's lovely,' she breathed.
'I though we could fix it up the Muggle way, so it feels more like ours,' Harry told her.
Ours. The word fitted itself into Hermione's mind. Everything - the walk, the train, the punch - it all seemed like a dream that just wouldn't end. It should, she told herself firmly, before things got out of hand.
She put down Crookshanks and her suitcase, silently walking through the grasses and weeds to the front door. The porch wood groaned as she stepped across it.
In the distance she heard the sound of booming thunder. Lightening flashed angrily across the sky. The rain had roused the scent of pine from a neighboring wood and Hermione inhaled deeply. The house reminded her so much of her parent's home; it was comforting, old, and melancholy, withholding a wisedom that seemed to come only with places surpassing a lifetime of wonderment and sorrow. Hermione loved that about a place.
'Hermione?' pressed Harry gently.
She turned to him and her eyes were misty. She immediately wiped them with the sleeve of her jumper. Harry did not say a word.
'Can I see the town?' asked Hermione quickly. Her embarassment was not lost on Harry. She knew it wouldn't be, but it had never hurt to try.
Harry looked concerned. 'We don't have to. If you're tired ...'
'I'm up for it,' she told him firmly. 'Where is it?'
'It's a short walk from here.' He paused and looked Hermione up and down. 'You're really alright? You're being honest with me?'
Hermione felt suddenly very naked as she heard herself stutter, 'How could I lie to you?'
Harry shot her a piercing look that could have melted steel. 'Exactly.'
'Harry, I want to fix this house, but we need supplies if we're going to do it the Muggle way. I want to get to know this town. Why not kill two birds with one stone?' She paused. 'I know you're worried, but you can't do anything right now to help me. Just let me work it out myself. Please.'
He seemed reluctant to do so, but let it be. 'As long as you don't die on me,' he told her playfully.
Hermione smiled. 'I think I can guarantee that.'
The walk was hardly anything at all. A measly quarter hour and they were in the heart of a village so cheerful it was almost a crime. Hermione was thrilled. The population was so small that nearly everyone knew each other. People passed each other on the street and stopped for a long chat. Hermione soon learned not to talk long with the bakery manager (he was as mad as they get); there was a fire hydrant that sprayed water every five minutes (Hermione wondered if this was a safety hazard. Imagine if there happened to be a fire!); and the old frothing bulldog on the corner was considered perfectly safe. Hermione stayed away from him nonetheless.
She was delighted to come across a bookshop on her journey, and she pulled Harry inside, only to find it dusty, grimy, and abandoned.
'What do they read?' she asked, appalled, as she stormed back outside.
It was clear that most of the villagers preferred cookbooks and newsletters over books, which utterly angered Hermione (and amused Harry).
'You could always consider opening the bookshop back up,' Harry suggested.
Hermione considered it as she and Harry walked through the marketplace for food and supplies. He grabbed a cart and wheeled it behind her. Hermione set Crookshanks down on the bottom shelf. She had left her suitcase by the house along with Harry's after the reassurance it wouldn't be stolen; and Hedwig, Harry had told her, was out flying.
'So, what do we get?' asked Harry.
Hermione took a loaf of bread from a towering shelf. 'The basics.'
As they shopped about, picking up food, Hermione asked Harry quietly, 'Where are we going to stay when the house is ... erm ... under construction?'
Harry said, 'I booked us a room at a local inn.'
'Oh.' Hermione looked confused for a moment. 'How did you pay for it?
'With money, love,' Harry said loudly as a heavyset man strode past, staring. 'You've been drinking too much again!'
'You know what I mean,' hissed Hermione.
Harry glowered at the man's back. 'I don't like the looks of him. Did you see the way he was staring at you?' He grumbled and swung the cart around violently. Crookshanks yowled.
'Harry,' Hermione said exasperatedly, 'I don't care if he was aiming a pistol at my forehead, I just want to know the answer to the question.' She frowned. 'I hope you didn't do anything illegal!'
'What? No! Nothing illegal, I just -' Harry coughed. 'Transfigured the money a bit.'
'What?'
Harry looked sheepish, like he had been caught redhanded stealing from the cookie jar. 'C'mon, Hermione, it's fine. I just took some of our money and transfigured it to their money. Simple.'
Hermione prodded a finger into Harry's chest. 'You knew very well that transfiguring money is illegal, Harry! Did you think I just wouldn't notice?'
Harry rubbed the back of his head. 'Listen,' he said, putting his arm around Hermione's waist and drawing her to a semi-secluded section behind the laundry detergent, 'the only way that I could have exchanged my money for Muggle money was if I notified the Ministry of Magic. I would have to put down all my information, and I really didn't want to do that. The reason that I moved here was to get away from everything. I didn't want anybody, not even ministry personnel, to know where I am. Do you understand?'
His arm was still snugly encircling her waist. 'Yes, I understand.'
Harry pulled away from her and made his way back to their cart, stuffing some of the laundry detergent above a carton of milk.
Hermione grabbed a dozen eggs and a few yogurts from the refrigerated section. She paused in the act, looked to see if anyone was listening, and asked, 'How many people know where we're going to live?'
'Besides you and me?' said Harry slowly. Hermione nodded.
'No one.'
'No one!' Hermione repeated, aghast. 'Not even Ron?'
Something akin to anger flashed in Harry's eyes. 'Why, do you want Ron to know?'
'Don't you?' she asked.
She turned when Harry gave no reply.
'What do you really think Ron's going to do? He's not going to sell us out, if that's what you're implying! He may be an attention-seeking prat sometimes, but he's as loyal as you come. You know that.'
Harry averted his eyes.
'Please don't do this,' Hermione said earnestly. 'Please don't do this to me. I've had a grand time today and I don't want to go and spoil it all. If you two had a spat behind my back, that's fine, but I'd really like to know about it.'
He grasped the cart with two hands. 'We didn't fight, Hermione, don't worry.'
'What's the problem then?' she asked. Her voice sounded sharp and waspish.
Harry just stared at her like she had sprouted wings. Hermione wondered, not for the first time that day, what he was truly thinking.
'He wasn't angry,' Hermione said softly as she and Harry pushed the cart along towards the deli meats.
'I told him I hadn't found a place yet,' Harry said. 'I know it sounds awful, Hermione, but you have to believe me, I'm trying -'
Hermione interrupted him with a snort. 'Trying to what? Justify your actions?'
'You don't understand.'
'Of course I don't! You're not explaining anything!'
Harry looked at Crookshank's cage absently. 'Ron's always been there. I suppose I just ...' He looked highly uncomfortable, but continued nonetheless, 'I just ... wanted to be with you. Alone.'
Whether it was true or not, the way his eyes were staring at her made Hermione nearly forget their small quarrel altogether. She found herself burning in his gaze and turned away quickly, breathing raggedly.
This was not happening. No, not now. Not when she was so close to forgetting ...
'I suppose we have enough groceries to last for a while,' she said shrilly.
'Hermione -' Harry started.
'We can always eat out, though, no harm in that -'
Harry moved closer. Hermione felt the blood rush to her head. 'Don't,' she breathed.
From the cart, Crookshanks yowled again, louder this time, and around them, people began to stare. Hermione was glad Harry had let Hedwig out to fly - the commotion they would have caused if they had brought in an owl! Hermione focused on these thoughts and wheeled the cart towards the front of the market. Harry followed slowly behind her.
It took all of her energy not to look back.
* * *
The clerk at the front desk was kind enough.
'Good day, sir, what can I do for you?'
Harry said, 'I have a room here ... booked under Black?'
Hermione shot Harry a look. He ignored her.
The clerk rummaged through some files at his desk. 'Black ... Black ... here it is. Room 273. Luxury suite, yes?'
Harry nodded. The clerk frowned as though in thought.
'Have we met?' he asked Harry. 'You seem familiar.'
Instictively, Harry flattened his fringe. He cleared his throat. 'No, no, I don't think so.'
The clerk shook himself. 'Oh. Okay.' He took a small key from his desk and handed it to Harry. 'Have a good stay, Mr. Black. And you too, love,' he added and Hermione murmured her thanks.
They reached their room. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. 'That was too close.'
'Wasn't he a Muggle?' asked Hermione, yanking Harry's Invisibility Cloak from around Hedwig's cage and Crookshanks's crate. She folded it carefully. They had decided it would be best to keep their animals hidden from any suspicious eyes.
'I thought so.'
'Me too.'
Harry took the Invisibility Cloak from Hermione's arms and stuffed it into his trunk. 'People are being careless, probably. Letting things leak out.'
'Hmm.' Hermione peered around the room. 'Harry, we don't need this much space! A luxury suite? Honestly.'
Harry grinned. 'It is bit big, isn't it?'
'A bit big? The whole common room could fit in this place!' She smiled at him. 'But it is rather nice.'
'And there's a jacuzzi.' Harry folded his arms and walked over to the bedside table. 'And ... yes, here it is.' He opened a small tin box - it was filled with delectable-looking chocolates. Hermione beamed. 'Great, isn't it?'
'I've never been in such a nice place,' Hermione said breathlessly. 'Are you sure -?'
Harry shook his head. 'My treat. Really. Don't fret over it.'
Hermione could not speak. Her face was beginning to hurt from all her smiling.
'We'll begin work on the house tomorrow, okay?' said Harry. He patted the bed. 'I know you're tired - now get some rest.'
She didn't know how to thank him. All she could do was open and close her mouth, all the while wondering what she could possibly do to return this extravagant favor. It was too much to ask for. Perhaps Harry had gone slightly mad over the years, she thought amusedly. Hermione really didn't care if he was incurably insane in any case (though this was never serious in her mind); she appreciated everything he had done for her and wished that whatever she did and would do would bring him happiness.
Her mind blissfully blank, Hermione sunk into the bed, pulled the covers over her, and sighed. All the fatigue seemed to leave her body as though pushed away by a breath of air. The pillow was downy and soft and it felt wonderful as though she was resting on a cloud. And as she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts wandered aimlessly, falling to rest on castles, and lakes, and fair princesses with their dashing knights.
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