Return to Me
Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Harry Potter World. JKR owns them.
A/N: A giant thank to my beta, Nakhash, she's wonderful!
Victoria Tonks: I know that part is a bit ooc but like a bottle of wine that have been shake too long when you let out the stopper, you know what happen. In this case, Harry is like a bottle of wine :) and you see in this chapter he thought Hermione was a dream.
Tabitoo: *Evil grin*
Finally, many many thanks to you all, my dear readers and reviewers! Without you all I won't have the strength to continue.
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Hermione shifted slightly as the sunlight filtered through the window and touched her face. She blinked and then opened her eyes, startled by her surroundings. She felt a weight on her lap; she looked down, seeing Harry's sleeping form before her. It was his head that weighed down upon her. She smiled softly and tried to move without waking him up, but as she started moving her legs, his eyes fluttered open. He blinked rapidly and his hands searched for his glasses.
Hermione chuckled as she pulled a pair of glasses from the desk above her head and placed them on Harry's eyes. He focused on her; Hermione could see he was confused. Then the realization dawned on him. He smiled at her and said, "It wasn't a dream."
It was merely a statement but Hermione nodded and said, "No, it's not."
Harry pulled himself up to sit next to her. He looked uneasy. Hermione cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Erm... Harry, how are you?"
Harry seemed to relax a bit at her question; he smiled faintly at her and answered, "I'm fine. How about you, 'Mione?" As he asked, he stood up and stretched his muscles.
Hermione smiled fondly. "I'm fine too and I'm happy to be back home." She was still sitting on the floor; her legs straight out just like last night.
Harry looked around the room and blushed slightly, "I'm sorry Mione. I haven't been a very good host. You shouldn't have had to see this mess."
"Oh, really? But I'm used to such messes now that I've had two of the messiest boys in the world as friends for the last twelve years," Hermione snorted, amusement in her tone.
They both laughed. 'It's good to see him that happy again,' thought Hermione.
"Do you want to have breakfast with me?" asked Harry.
Hermione nodded and then frowned as she tried to move her legs; they were so numb.
Harry looked puzzled for a moment before he realized what was wrong and hurriedly helped her to her feet but her numb legs wouldn't support her weight. If Harry hadn't caught her in time she would surely have hit the floor. Harry helped her to an armchair and sat her down. He kneeled in front of her and started massaging her legs.
Hermione blushed deep red and tried to stop him. "Harry, it's ok. Let me rest a little and
I'll be all right."
But Harry didn't stop and said without looking at her, "It's my fault that your legs became this numb. I shouldn't have fallen asleep on you last night."
Her breath caught as his hand touched the hollow of her leg and her body tensed even as she tried to relax. Harry seemed not to notice and she was grateful, otherwise they would find themselves in another awkward situation. She mentally cursed herself for reacting in such a shameful way to her best friend. After a while, her legs regained their feeling. She thanked Harry. They both stood up, facing each other.
Harry offered, "Do you want to take a bath before breakfast?"
"Good idea," Hermione responded, "but I have to go to the Burrow because all my things are there and - oh!" Hermione squeaked, "I didn't tell Mrs. Weasley that I was coming here last night. She'll be worried sick by now." She turned to Harry, "Listen, you take your shower and prepare everything. I'll be back in time for breakfast, ok?"
Harry grinned and nodded mutely. She smiled and turned to leave but Harry grabbed her arm and said, "I'm glad you're back, Hermione."
She smiled and made her way out of the room.
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Once she was out of Harry's house, Hermione Apparated directly to the Burrow where she found Mrs. Weasley pacing the room and Mr. Weasley sitting calmly at the table with his hands folded under his chin, watching his frustrated wife.
"Arthur, do something! This is Hermione, why aren't you doing anything?" Hermione heard Mrs. Weasley growl at Mr. Weasley.
She opened the door and revealed herself. Mrs. Weasley stopped pacing and raced up to her.
"Are you all right? Where have you been, dear?" she asked. "I was so worried when I didn't find you in your room this morning."
"I'm fine," said Hermione, smiling guiltily. "I'm sorry I worried you. I was just so anxious to see Harry that I left without telling you. I wasn't thinking; I'm so sorry, Mrs. Weasley."
Mrs. Weasley let out a sigh of relief then pursed her lips; her brows knitted in thought, though she didn't say anything.
Hermione couldn't tell what Mrs. Weasley was feeling, whether it was disapproval with her behavior or the mention of Harry that was the cause of her distraction.
"Ah, I told you Molly, dear, Hermione is not a child she knows what she is doing and she is back. Now, may I have my coffee?" said Mr. Weasley cheerfully. However, Hermione thought it was forced rather than natural. Mrs. Weasley glared at her husband and stomped out of the living room. He turned to Hermione and smiled, "How is Harry anyway?"
"Erm- he..." Hermione stammered. How could she possibly explain to Mr. Weasley that they had fallen asleep on each other without even having a conversation?
As if sensing her unease, Mr. Weasley smiled and said, "I hope he is all right. I haven't seen him much lately."
'How could this be possible? Weren't the two of them working in the Ministry together?' Hermione thought to herself.
Before she could voice any of her thoughts, Mrs. Weasley returned with a tray of coffee and some egg and bacon sandwiches. Hermione could tell by the look on her face that she was none too pleased but didn't know why. As she neared the table and put the tray down forcefully she spit out, "He is not all right, Arthur. Not since he married that- that evil woman."
She broke into tears while Arthur hurriedly hugged her and made her sit next to him. "There, there Molly, everything will be fine," he said, as he patted her back.
Molly sobbed into her husband's shoulder and mumbled, "Poor Harry. He deserves a better life."
Hermione watched the couple, lost in her own thoughts. She needed to talk to Harry urgently. Hermione made her excuses and went to her room. She took a bath and changed her outfit from the evening before to a fresh pair of jeans and a loose blue shirt.
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Within the hour, Hermione found herself in front of Harry's house again. This time she didn't need to take the wards down as Harry had already reset them to recognize her. Dobby escorted her to the living room where Harry was waiting. He too was dressed Muggle-style: a pair of shabby old jeans and a short sleeved, white cotton t-shirt. Hermione smiled and took her seat opposite to Harry's.
"When I first came in I thought I would be greeted by an old gentleman dressed in formal robes but here I got a slob instead," she teased.
Harry grinned at her and answered back, "I thought you liked me better this way, right?"
"Yeah, you're right," Hermione said, observing Harry. He looked far better than yesterday. His face wore an expression of joy, though his brow still had the lines from being creased with worry for too long. His green eyes had the hint of a twinkle, which reminded Hermione of the younger Harry when he was happy or excited. His shoulders were broader and his form was no longer that of the skinny boy with knobby knees she had known from school but the form of a man who had been through hard physical training. Hermione looked up and their eyes locked; she realized he too had been observing her. The knowledge caused her to blush slightly. She turned away, confused by her own feelings.
Dobby reappeared bringing their breakfast then disappeared again without waiting for Hermione to thank him. They ate and talked; mostly Harry asked her about her work and her studies. Hermione told him all about her adventures, her colleges, and the different ways of life in the Wizarding World. Harry listened to her carefully, Hermione noticed, unlike when they were at school and she was trying to explain to him and Ron some interesting fact she had found in "Hogwarts: A History".
They finished their breakfast; Hermione was about to ask Harry the questions she had been holding back when Harry held up his hand and shook his head. He said sadly, "Please, Hermione, I know what you want to ask, but I'm not ready to talk about it yet."
"It's not good for you to bury it in your heart, Harry," said Hermione sympathetically. "It's bad enough that such a thing happened but to keep it locked in your mind is even worse."
"How do you know I keep it locked in my mind?" Harry joked mirthlessly.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Don't play innocent with me. I know how you always take things upon yourself."
Harry turned his face away but not quickly enough for Hermione to miss seeing the sorrow that suddenly appeared in the emerald pools behind his glasses.
Hermione reached out to cover his hand with hers. "Don't worry, things will get better soon," she said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Take the time you need, just remember, if you want an ear, I'll be here for you."
Harry looked back and met Hermione's warm smile. "Thank you," said Harry, with a little smile of his own.
"No problem, you're my best friend," Hermione replied. "Where's Agnes? Can I meet her?"
"Sure! She's probably driving Dobby crazy by now," Harry said brightly.
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"She stays with Dobby most of the time," Harry explained, as the two of them walked up to Agnes' room, located at the left side of the stone staircase near Harry's bedroom. "She likes to demand things from Dobby and he, in turn, seems ecstatic to do everything she says. I don't have much time look after her," he added, after a pause.
"Why don't you move your office near her room?" asked Hermione. "It would make things easier."
"I don't think it's a good idea, Hermione; I usually throw things when I'm stressed. I don't think Agnes would like that much," said Harry thoughtfully.
"You do?" asked Hermione, both amazed and worried. "Are you telling me you've taken up that bad habit now?"
"Oh Hermione, there's nothing wrong with that, right? As long as I'm throwing things and not people," said Harry, chuckling softly. But Hermione didn't seem to find any humor in his joke.
They stood in front of the nursery door and before even entering they heard the sound of rustling and Dobby's high-pitched voice. "Oh, Miss Agnes! Dobby is searching! Please don't miss cry!"
Harry opened the door and walked in. Agnes was crying at the top of her lungs; her curly black hair was flying everywhere. Dobby was fussing over a trunk, searching for something. Harry hurriedly went to the side of her bed. He picked her up and she quieted down.
Hermione observed the room first. It was smaller than Harry's office, of course, but it was full of baby playthings, both magical and Muggle. She then took a step closer to Agnes; the baby had hazel eyes, just like Harry's father, and curly black hair. She was clinging to her father's neck but soon started crying again.
Dobby squeaked, "Oh Miss! Dobby is sorry Miss. He can't find her doll and makes her cry. He should be punishing himself." Then he hit himself on the head.
Hermione stopped him and said, "I don't think she wants her doll, Dobby." She turned to Harry, "Let me see her."
Harry handed his child to Hermione who held her tenderly, rocking back and forth. "What do you feed her?" Hermione asked, without taking her eyes off the child in her arms.
Harry looked puzzled but Dobby squealed then vanished for a minute before coming back with a bottle of milk. He handed it to Hermione who took it appreciatively and started feeding Agnes humming softly to the child. The child closed her eyes and soon felt asleep still sucking her bottle. Hermione didn't let go of the child she held so closely but continued gazing down at the sweet little face, smiling to herself, oblivious to the pair of eyes watching her with a mixture of admiration and adoration.
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When she was sure Agnes was asleep, she pulled the bottle out of her little mouth and put her back to bed, careful not to wake her up again. She kissed the tiny forehead and turned to find Harry looking at her strangely. She cocked an eyebrow at him questioningly, "Well? Don't you kiss your baby goodnight?"
"It's not night, Hermione," Harry protested.
"No it's not, but she can sleep whenever she wants and, as her father, you should kiss her so she'll have good dreams," said Hermione, in her best lecturing tone.
"Oh, well all right," he said, then walked up to Agnes' sleeping form and kissed her on the forehead with a whispered, "Sweet dreams love."
The two friends left the room, closing the door behind them. Harry looked at Hermione; she was beaming. He said, "If I didn't know better I would think you're a mother already, Hermione."
"I used to baby-sit for my neighbor during summers when they took a week or so on holiday and now it proves to be useful, doesn't it?" she said, smiling brightly.
"Yes, thank you, Hermione," Harry replied.
"You're welcome." She paused, and then said seriously, "You know, Harry, raising a child means not only feeding her and giving what she wants but also giving her what she needs.
That's love. I know you love her, Harry," Hermione quickly added, as she saw Harry's eyes burning brightly, "but do you know how to express your love to her? Do you know how to love her?"
Harry stood quietly. His face wore the sad expression she saw the night before. Hermione stepped closer to him and put both her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Don't be discouraged, Harry; no one is born with knowledge, just try to learn. I know you can do it, Harry. I know it."
He took a deep breath and said, "I'll try."
"As long as you do." She smiled. "Do you want to show me the house?"
"Yes, I do." A slight smile crossed his face and he offered his hand; she took it and they went out to the garden. They walked side by side, quietly enjoying the gentle morning breeze and the comfortable feelings they had for each other.