Unofficial Portkey Archive

What is Love?

A/N: I don't think this chapi is that interesting or that long, but it's decisive for the rest of the plot. Please R&R, and Happy Harry Reading!

CHAPTER VI

In&Out

Hold on if you feel like letting go

Hold on, it gets better then you know

(Good Charlotte - Hold on)

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2004 - Daily Prophet's Main Offices, London

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Even though she had called for a little vacation from The Daily Prophet, they had called her to cover something about two more dead aurors. Aurors had started to be wiped away by some unnamed follower of the former Dark Lord Voldemort, who had vanished after the last battle, five years ago. No one had found his body, so the ones that knew the whole story -like Hermione- feared he would come back just like he did last time, such a long time ago.

The Aurors were utterly closed in regards of this and it unnerved Hermione completely, since she was used to being in the gist of it all while she was with Harry. But now he wasn't with her anymore and they had completely lost contact ever since that day, when she had turned him down for the second time.

She thought about Harry; luckily she hadn't had to cover Mr. Potter's death. He was a renowned auror, and although the names of the ones that were involved weren't said until they were dead, she was positive he was in danger too. She finally made up her mind with a sigh, she would have to get over herself and contact him to be able to give a proper story to the readers.

The sudden burst of flames in the fireplace pulled Hermione from her reverie. She turned around to find her former lover's head, looking pale and worn, with bags under his eyes and she flinched, kneeling down to face him. "Ronald! What on earth has happened?" she asked, worried.

He hesitated for a moment and then sagged. "Hermione, I miss you, could you please come back?" he blunted out.

Hermione bit her lip; words had never been one of his strengths. She looked into his blue eyes. "I- I don't think that's such a good idea," she stated.

"I know I was a git and I'm sorry-."

He was cut off when Hermione raised her hand. "Listen, I need to clear my head and I can't have you with me to do that. I'm sorry," she said, feeling like the worst bitch ever.

Ron opened his mouth to argue back a couple of times, but closed it again at the lack of something good to say. Finally, words came out. "I can give you space, I just don't want to lose you," he half-pleaded.

Hermione sighed. "We'll see about that…" she mused. You're so wanted that you turn down a guy that is crazy about you, way to go Mione! She told herself mentally. But you cannot deceive him, or yourself for that matter; it's better this way, she argued in her head.

He seemed about to say something else but apparently thought better of it; his eyes darkened and he nodded. "I'll give you time, I hope you find your way back to me," he said and his head disappeared from the fireplace.

Hermione's arms slumped and she sat hard on her butt, her head tilting down. She took a deep breath and pulled herself back together and to what she was encouraging herself to do.

"All right. Are you a journalist or a mediocre teen to whom a huge fight is the end of the world?" she inquired at herself.

"No! I'm not mediocre!" she pulled a fist in front of her chest, "I'm The Daily Prophet's best-paid journalist and I have to do what I have to do to get my story," she assured.

"Right! - now, how on earth am I going to go look for Auror Potter?" she slapped her forehead and rolled her eyes. "And you say you are smart?" she inquired to herself.

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(2004 - Grimmauld Place)

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Harry sat in his studio, reading The Rests of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro, a book from his muggle library. He liked muggle literature much more than Wizards'. Muggles could be so imaginative regarding everything they didn't know while Wizards thought they knew it all and were very ignorant in some things.

He was enjoying the last moments of peace before he would get all anxious and nervous about his meeting with the one woman that had taught him how to be a man, how to love, how to take advantage of his name. He had gone a little too far with that and he saw it now, how stupid he had been and why he had lost her and his best friend as well.

She didn't teach him how to be a prat; that had been his entire doing. But she had popped his bubble of `I'm the high lord and you all have to listen to me', and he had learned his lesson. The hard way, but he had learned how and when to use his name to his advantage and to keep his feet on the ground.

Oh, but how she had broken his heart! It had been more than his heart, she had crushed everything he was and thought he would be with just one sentence. Was that even possible? Guess so, yes.

The one woman that had meant the world to him and was pretty much all he knew and wanted had treated him like a scum bag, like an unwanted bug. He didn't think he deserved it back then. Actually, you probably did, he scolded at himself. But still, he defended and sighed in frustration.

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(2004 - The Leaky Cauldron)

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Hermione took all she needed and put it in a small bag that curiously he had given her on Christmas of their seventh year `to remember me by,' he had said with a horribly calm voice and cold green eyes, so unlike the ones she had fallen in love with.

She sighed once again at the bag and put in a couple more enchanted parchments. Those parchments would remain empty until the witch or wizard that had performed the spell would say the counterspell; they were used to prevent stealing of information.

At last, she had it all ready and engaged her way to what originally had been her purpose when she left Ron, to look for Harry and sort out her feelings and the situation.

She apparated from The Leaky Cauldron and appeared in a dark street. Her stomach gave an unpleasant lurch at the sight of what had meant so much pain and deaths while the war took place.

Hermione stared between number eleven and number thirteen and thought hard The Headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix is located at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

All of a sudden, a house seemed to inflate between the other two and Hermione just stared as she gathered enough courage to actually knock on the door. When the process was finished, she took a deep breath and raised her hand, softly knocking three times.

No one came to the answer. "I wonder who lives here now?" she mused, hoping it was still Harry's residence. "I hope they have brought down Mrs. Black's portrait," she said as her fist rose again and she knocked more firmly.

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(2004 - Grimmauld Place)

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Harry jumped when the door knocked; who would be coming to visit? Not that they were much of a visited home despite their three occupants. All the people that ever came to visit them had apparating permit inside the house.

Then he recognized it and his eyes widened. Three knocks; one long and the other two very quickly. That was the Order's knock. But the Order hasn't been on for years, Harry thought and rose to his feet, hurrying to the doorway.

Nothing could've prepared him for what he encountered on the doorstep. There she was, looking beautiful as ever, her long brown hair hanging loose to her shoulders with a little band around it, pulling it away from her delicate face. He blinked, unable to react.

Hermione choked a breath as the door opened and froze. The man she had given her heart and soul, the man that had broken her heart numerous times and yet, the man that could still make her shudder with just one look was in front of her.

He opened his mouth to speak a couple of times, but his throat had apparently decided to take a vacation, leaving no sound at all.

Hermione unlocked her gaze from his and looked away, not knowing if she'd be able to resist those eyes; that raven hair and his whole presence much more if they kept staring into each others' eyes. "Hello, Harry," was all she managed to say.

Harry still had a hard time forcing his throat to work and finally dealt with it. "What are you doing here?" asked a cold voice he didn't recognize. He was quite surprised at this, for he had willed completely different words from his mouth. He had willed for a `How have you been? Is everything all right? Do you miss me? I miss you so much', but no, none of that came out.

Hermione sucked in a breath, great start, she said sarcastically in her head. "I, uh-," she started and then remembered the talk she had had with herself back in The Leaky Cauldron.

She looked up and found his eyes once again, the same feeling flooded her, but she repressed it and she spoke in the journalist tone she was so familiar with. "Mr. Potter, I would like an interview with you on the recent events regarding the deaths of a number of aurors at the hand of an unnamed attacker," she said and was surprised at how confident her voice sounded, because she felt everything but confident right now.

Harry frowned at these strange words and he felt his arms long for her tanned skin, his fingers wanting to reach out and curl themselves on her light brown hair. All these feelings he had cornered in the back of his mind for so long for the sake of his sanity, blossoming again.

He didn't know what to do; if to follow his instinct and just kiss her, or slam the door on her face for hurting him so bad back then. He decided to follow her game; "we've told The Daily Prophet that we won't give you anymore information than you ought to know," he said in the tone of a high-rank auror, trying his best to detach himself of all those emotions that were taking him by assault.

"I- I know Mr. Potter, but the number of casualties in the lines of the aurors has grown to nine and we want to know what's going on," she demanded.

"I am aware of the number of dead men in my lines, thank you very much." Harry was finding it increasingly hard to keep up with this act.

"I used to know a lot, Mr. Potter, and I won't stop till I get a proper story. I can, and you know that very well," she let a hint of the Hermione she was suppressing to come to the surface.

"But you are no longer with us, Hermione," Harry dropped a little the face he had put up. Suddenly he heard Remus' voice in his head `I'm asking Hermione to join us, we need her'.

She didn't know how to respond to this; he was sure right to some point. "I am a journalist-," she started but knew it was no good. "I used to be a part of it all, you could let me in again," she asked, her voice quivering a little.

"I don't think I can do that anymore…" Harry said softly and heard his voice breaking almost imperceptibly as he looked into her eyes.

"Harry- I…"

"Goodbye Hermione," he said in a cold but broken voice and shut the door on her face.

When it was closed, Harry let himself collapse to the ground and his chest tightened, a knot forming in his throat. He took his hands to his face, covering it, trying his best not to lose his composure.

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