A Twist In The Tale
A middle-aged man was sitting at a desk writing yet another reply to various incoming owls. It was mind numbing day in and day out. The ministry received hundreds of letters every day and it was his job to open them, read them and forward them to the correct department. If they were nothing more than angry wizarding citizens venting their frustrations, then it was his job to pen a polite and vague reply, being sympathetic but non-committal. He had already opened the thirtieth letter today.
He grabbed for number thirty-one and immediately realized that it was not your typical letter. First off, it was sent in a plain white muggle envelope. It even had a stamp on it, which was quite perplexing. He tapped a finger on his cheek, wondering how a muggle letter was delivered via owl to the Ministry of Magic. He picked up his wand and did a quick swish; a spell to check to see if the contents were somehow cursed or enchanted in anyway. The letter was as plain as a letter could possibly be.
He scratched behind his ear and shrugged. He opened the envelope and pulled out the quaintly folded sheet of paper inside. He unfolded the letter and chuckled to himself. Not only had a muggle letter got somehow mixed into the owl mail system, it was not even sent to the right office. He assumed the owl knew what it was doing when it delivered here and he also gathered that the scrawl on the front of the envelope was addressed to the ministry. He was also confident that if he could read English, that he would have been able to verify that. However, he had not spoken or written any English since he was back in his old Russian grammar school days; and that was over forty years ago.
With a sigh, he placed the letter back in the envelope and resealed it. He then picked up a large rubber stamp and pressed it against the outside. If a person could read Russian, it would have said, `Misdelivery: Re-sort and Re-send'. The letter was then promptly placed in a small alcove where a young house-elf took the letter and put it in a large pile of letters that needed to be translated and then sent to the proper ministry office. The elf estimated that it would not get sent out until sometime next Tuesday.
--- ---
There was a desperate knock on the door. Teebel quickly opened the door to greet whoever might be on the other side. He was surprised to see a very upset looking Bili.
"Teebel is happy to be greeting you good neighbor of Harry Potter's."
"Yes, yes please forgive my impatience, but I must speak to Harry immediately. I have important news to pass on to him."
"Oh, Teebel is being sorry to inform you that Harry and Herm-i-nee are both out for a lunch of picnicking. Harry has told Teebel that he will be being back sometime tonight. Can Teebel be helping?"
"Here, take this and give it to Harry the moment he returns. It is very urgent."
With that he shoved a piece of parchment into Teebel's hands turned and apparated away. Teebel looked down at the letter as he was closing the door. Not sure exactly what to do with it, he placed it carefully on the table in the breakfast nook, knowing that Harry spent time there every day. He would be sure to see it when they returned. He then walked upstairs and grabbed a large feather duster. With a squeal of delight he began to wave his hands in the air as the duster came to life and made quick work of the dusty cabinets.
--- ---
"Actually, I'm kind of glad to get outdoors for a bit," Harry admitted.
"It is just about a perfect day to have a picnic," Hermione agreed.
The yellow sun was hanging perfectly in the early afternoon sky. The warm light filled up the small meadow they were lounging in. A large red blanket was stretched out on the grass and the two were lying side by side staring into the piercing blue. Only the occasional wispy cloud would cross the sky at a leisurely pace. Surrounding the meadow were a plethora of trees stretching out their branches into the summer day. The gentle breeze barely had the strength to shift the bright green leaves on their perches.
"We're close Harry, I can really feel it. I think we'll be ready for a dry run tomorrow. I think we'll have many of our questions answered once we see the machine in action."
"Let's not talk about it right now," Harry said with a smile. "Let's just be out here and enjoy this moment."
Hermione grinned, "Of course. You're right. We don't need to worry about everything right now. It is nice out here and I'm glad you thought of it."
"Did I mention how glad I am that you came to see me?" Harry mused.
Hermione turned her head and looked at Harry. It was not a position she was used to seeing him in. The two of them lying down in the field with the sweet smell of summer flowers flowing over them. He seemed, for the first time that she could remember, at peace with himself. She knew she was always at his side and helping him in anyway she could because she cared about him. But, it was not until this moment she knew exactly what she had been fighting for. Now she did and it was right here beside her. To see Harry happy, to see him content, to see him feel safe. It had all been worth it. Every tear and drop of blood was spent well on his behalf. She would not change one single moment of it.
"Harry?"
"Yeah."
"Are you happy now? I mean has everything worked out the way you had hoped?"
"Well, I'm not a hundred percent sure how to know when I'm really happy. Though, I think I am. I mean for awhile I wasn't. When you and Ron left, I was sort of unhappy and felt a bit out of place. Then I came here and things got a little better. Then you came and that made things much better. Now, I guess I'd just like to hear from Ron and Ginny and Luna and Neville. Then… then I think things would be perfect. What about you, are you happy?"
Hermione was still looking at Harry as his gaze was lost up in the never ending sky.
"I think I'm like you. I'm not really sure exactly how happy I am."
Her voice went softer as she said, "I am much happier, now that I'm here."
Harry turned and looked into her eyes. They seemed so big when she was staring at him. He liked looking into them. It made him feel like he was standing near the edge of this lucid ocean and if he could he would just lose himself there. Each day that went by, his attachment to her grew stronger and stronger. He tried to imagine what it would be like if she went away again and it made his chest tighten up and his throat grow thick.
"Hermione?"
"Yes."
"Stay here with me."
"I am here with you," she smiled.
"No, I mean stay here with me. Don't leave. Make this your home."
The color must have left her face, because she felt like she was falling. If she had not been lying down, she would have. What is he asking? What does he mean by that? Does he want her to stay for the same reason she wants to stay? How should she answer a question like that? She looked inside and tried to find the right thing to say. What did she really want?
"Okay."
"Okay?" Harry repeated.
"Yes, I'll stay here with you."
"Forever?" he asked.
Her heart stopped altogether.
"Forever," she said earnestly.
Harry gently slid his arm underneath her and pulled her closer. She laid her head on his chest with the rest of her body lying against his side. Instantly her heart began to slow down. The thoughts that were once racing, were now still. Where was all the nervousness? It was as if she had been doing this all her life. In one quick moment their friendship had become something more. She had no idea of what it exactly was. Was there really a word for it? Love? Such a small word. So, strangely innocuous. It was as if Harry and her were somehow connected on such a deep level, that trying to describe it was almost inane.
Harry could smell the fresh strawberries in her hair; just like the night of the Yule Ball. He wondered if he should be saying something right now. Or perhaps it was alright to just be silent. Then a thought crept into his mind.
"Do you love me?" he asked.
"Of course I do."
"Do you?"
"Yes, Harry, I do love you."
"I thought so, I just wanted to make sure. You know that I love you too, right?"
She smiled, "Yes, I do know that."
"Good. I just wanted to make sure is all," he announced quietly.
Hermione thought back to the last seven years and wondered how she ever thought it would end up any other way.
"Why didn't you kiss me the night of the Yule Ball?" Hermione queried Harry.
"I'm not sure. I guess I was pretty nervous for some reason. I wanted to though."
He could barely believe how easily the words came out. It was as if telling her anything but the entire truth was somehow impossible. She could ask anything and he would have told her.
"How about now?"
Harry thought about it and said, "Nope. I'm not nervous anymore."
With a grin he looked down at her and she looked back at him. He closed his eyes and touched his lips to hers. Hermione then closed her eyes and gently rocked her head back and forth as their kiss grew more intense. They both let themselves linger in the moment and kept kissing until their mouths grew tired.
"You hungry?" Harry asked.
"Starved."
--- ---
"Well, how on earth did we miss an entire manor?" Ginny said disgustedly.
"Good question," Neville replied.
They should have run into the place a couple miles back. Strangely, they wound up on the beach and were left scratching their heads on how that exactly happened. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky and they were both tired.
"Well, I guess we head west a bit and then backtrack. If we missed it, then I'm sure we missed it in that direction," Neville said with his hand pointing.
"Alright," Ginny replied.
They began walking along in the direction that Neville suggested. A ways down the beach they both saw a strange fog coming in from the ocean.
"That's an odd color," Ginny whispered.
"Yeah, it does seem a bit off, doesn't it?"
As they drew closer to it, both of them started to feel uneasy. Not that anything was particularly out of place, it was just a gut feeling. Ginny fluttered her hand in the air searching for Neville's. Instinctively he reached out and grabbed a hold of it.
Then from overhead a shrill squawk announced the presence of an owl. Neville looked up and noticed how tiny the thing was. It looked awfully familiar to him for some reason.
"Hey, its Pigwidgeon," Ginny exclaimed excitedly. "Ron must be sending a letter to Harry. How funny is that?"
Neville felt a smile cross his face, but just as quickly it was wiped away.
"Why is it coming in for a landing way out here?" Neville blurted out.
"Look!" Ginny whispered harshly. "Its… its flying into… is that a cave? Why did Pig fly into that cave? That's not right. That's not right at all. Something's wrong Neville. What if Pig is hurt?!"
Neville's mind sprung into action. He pulled out his wand and began racing toward the cave with Ginny in tow. Without even realizing it the two of them went straight into the fog. Both of them stopped at the cave entrance and looked inside. It was simply too dark to see well.
"Neville, does this air smell funny to you?"
He sniffed the air and the sensation made him dizzy. It had a strange smell that he somehow remembered. After thinking he recognized it.
"It smells a bit like the hallways of St. Mungos. Kind of like the smell of people when they are really sick," he answered.
"You're right, it does smell like sick people. It must be this fog."
Without further contemplation they both stepped inside. Ginny had her wand out and had cast `Lumos'. Neville had his wand at the ready as he carefully made his way by her side. The cave became a tunnel and dipped down a ways, before coming back up. As they cleared the highest point in their path they entered a section of the cavern that opened up into a large alcove. There in the center of it Pig was lying down, wings spread haphazardly.
Ginny gasped and ran forward to check on Ron's owl. She reached down and felt Pig's chest. It was slowly moving in and out.
"Still breathing," she said with relief.
"Thank goodness," Neville responded. "Ginny, I'm not feeling particularly well."
He was beginning to have a difficult time standing up. He knelt down on one knee in an attempt to steady himself. Everything started spinning around him and he began to fall forward.
"Ginny, I feel…" were the last three words he said before passing out.
Ginny might have said something in return if she had not passed out already as well.
--- ---
Neville awoke and looked around him. Ginny was beginning to stir just a few feet away. He felt groggy, but found the strength to slowly stand up. He noticed immediately that Pig was gone. He stepped over to Ginny and gently lifted her to a stand. She shook her head and tried to get her bearings.
"Pigwidgeon is gone," Neville explained.
"Is it just me, or have the waves got a lot louder?" she replied.
Neville noticed it too. He walked over to the tunnel and realized that it was completely filled with water.
"The tide is in," he groaned.
"Let's see if we can apparate out," Ginny offered.
They both tried, but it did not work. Neville began to fire off any number of spells, each one failed.
"Ginny, try other spells," he pleaded.
Ginny quickly ran through a number of familiar spells herself, but each one failed as well. They looked around and noticed a small fire pit giving off warmth and light.
"How did we miss that?" Neville asked out loud.
"This is seriously creepy," Ginny said in a worried voice.
"No magic, tide is in… we're trapped here. At least until the tide goes back out again," Neville grumbled.
The two of them stepped over to the small fire and sat down dejectedly. There was nothing to do now, but wait it out.
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