Rating: NC17
Genres: Angst, Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 27/11/2004
Last Updated: 27/11/2004
Status: Completed
I suck at Summaries but here goes This is a one-shot that I had written after wondering how the grief of Sirius Black's death could affect one Hermione Granger. This story deals a great deal with depression, mental illness as well as heavily addictive behavior. If any of these topics are too much for you, I recommend you do not read...
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor at any time own any of the Harry Potter characters. This is an original plot, based on characters created by J K Rowling with additional characters created by Muirnin Cocan. In no way is any money being made, nor copyright or trademark infringement intended. J K Rowling owns all rights as well as various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, with additional rights belonging to Warner Bros., Inc. The full list of all publishers and distributors can be found at J. K .Rowling's website Some parts may be of an adult nature that may not be suitable for all readers. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Future Imperfect
By Muirnin Cocan
Parchment, ink and quill sat upon the intricately carved mahogany desk next to a deferentially placed letter, which had been written for some time, but as yet not sent. The scantily clad woman took a side-long glance at the letter – having written it for purely therapeutic purposes – then sighing deeply walked out upon the balcony of her home that overlooked the Pacific Ocean.
She was older then she felt she had a right to be, but her body still moved gracefully across the wooden planks as she sat down in the wooden chair that faced out towards the west. She picked up the small cardboard pack and pulled out a cigarette, placing it between her lips she ignited the flame from her well worn and oft used silver lighter. Taking a long drag from its filter, she leaned her head back, blowing out the smoke she held within her lungs for a few moments longer then normal.
Reaching over she picked up the bottle of amber liquid, forgoing a glass and ice; uncorking it she placed it to her lips and drank greedily of the Scotch as it burned its way to her empty stomach. Her mind began to feel the oft-felt sensation as the 18-year-old single malt began to take its affect. She continued repeatedly to take a drag of her smoke and then a swig of the bottle as she finished the cigarette, letting the building ash drop carelessly upon the ground. It was ritual now... her way of life.
The sound from the other room caused her to stir as she snubbed out the remaining embers from the cigarette and went back into the place she resided through a door that was in her bedroom.
Sprawled upon the spacious bed was a man nearly 16 years her junior, completely naked and looking around at the elegantly decorated bedroom. She looked at the man complacently wondering if the look he was giving her now was love or if it was purely lust for an incredible fuck with an older woman.
She was nobody’s fool to think she was gorgeous, however she did know how to manipulate her body and she controlled it very well. Her body had developed into a well-used but voluptuous one. The silk robe she had draped around her shoulders was open and exposed her naked form, leaving no need for an imagination for what she actually looked like in the flesh. Her skin was flawless, save for a few broken capillaries upon her cheeks giving her a rosy appearance.
She watched him through her scotch-diluted eyes begin to stroke himself at the sight of her. His arousal growing larger, making her think again purely lust she licked her lips thoughtfully, perhaps a memory charm will do the trick to getting rid of him… well maybe after I let him have another go.
Luxuria filled her entire being, causing cravings she knew only one action could fulfill. She sidled up to the large bed and let the silken robe fall freely from her body as she straddled his body once more.
She had become addicted to the action of sex – like everything else in her life she was good at pleasuring a man, making him feel like the only one she could ever do this with. Such a game this had become, going to a bar or a club or even the grocery store and bringing home a man – some older, some younger then she – and giving them what ever they wanted for as long as they wanted, then letting them go when she bored of them and wanted something new.
The inheritance she had acquired when she was in her late teens had given her plenty of money to live on comfortably and to afford the home she now owned, however at times she was known to dance in strip clubs for top dollar – just for kicks. Some of the men who she took to bed even left money with out her even asking… not that she would, sex was part of a game and part of her psychosis.
She was careful though, she always used protection spells upon herself so that she would not become pregnant even though now she wasn’t even sure if that was at all possible after all these years. The spells she used protected her against many things including some of the nastier diseases that were out there. She allowed the man to choose whether he wanted to use protection – some of the men actually were turned on by her not insisting upon the use of a rubber while others were adamant about their use.
In the end, it was never enough, never about love but about sex and her insatiable appetite for more. She had tried to not need sex, trying instead to study or work more – but soon both suffered and she found her self spiraling downward until sex was all she wanted, then the despicable hatred of her own greed for sex caused her to follow other paths that led further to her own mental destruction. Soon she did not care any more.
When the man had finally collapsed after having been ridden harder then he had ever in his life, the woman reached over to her bedside cupboard and pulled out her wand modifying his memory. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she saw him quickly get out of her bed, dress and then leave her house – never to return.
She hated herself… hated who she had become. After years of thinking about finding a way to end it all, she had realized that she was a coward when she thought of suicide. Death was not the answer. Who she truly was had died 25 years before in a bedroom in Cambridge.
Leaving herself completely naked, she walked gracefully into the next room where her antique mahogany desk sat. Along with her wand, she picked up the letter she had written so very long ago and headed back out to the balcony. Setting her wand and the letter upon the table, she began her ritual once again.
Drink then cringe at the fire left by the trail of scotch then a deep unhealthy drag from the cigarette held between her fingers… repeat.
As she snubbed out the butt she cursed at herself that it was never enough and draped her long slender leg over the arm of the Adirondack chair. Slowly, she ran one hand down between her legs and began manipulating her clit in a circular motion, her eyes closed as she let her mind fantasize about the one man she had ever wanted to have possession of her body… the one man who never had.
Skillfully, she had used her fingers to plunge deep inside her causing her to buck wildly as she brought herself to a slow and powerful climax. No man had ever caused her so much pleasure, but only her mind and her hands could do justice to her body.
The slight breeze from the Pacific Ocean sent ripples across her naked flesh causing her sensations that are even more erotic as if the wind itself had become an unseen lover. It was this obsessive feeling of titillation that caused her blood to boil, a melting desire that she searched for in the flesh all the men she brought home, and only in her solitude did she find the same cosmic release.
Time passed slowly as she began her ritual of alcohol and tobacco once again. Something needed to be done. In a moment of purest clarity, she made up her mind and picking up the letter and her wand, she muttered a powerful tempus spell and cast it upon the parchment that had been in her hand.
************
Harry looked at the folded parchment that had suddenly appeared upon the desk in his room at number 4 Privet Drive. He barely recognized the handwriting that he believed belong to Hermione. He knew she wanted to talk to him about Sirius, but he could not -- not now not ever. He had to shut everyone he cared about off from him so that nobody else would get hurt or worse -- killed. He had already thought that she had died and that had nearly killed him, he could not go through with that again.
He started to feel as if this letter was going to be the death of him if he did not read what was written, so with shaking hands he unfolded the letter and tears welled up in his eyes as he read the first words upon the page.
My dearest Harry,
Currently you are feeling an unreasonable desire to read what is written here... I will not lie to you... It has been charmed to do so.
If you are thinking that you recognize the handwriting, as those of the Hermione you know and love being the author... understand this, she is incapable of sharing these words with you at this time...
What I have to say in this letter is for your own discretion… however, I will advise you to not discuss this with anyone, especially Hermione. I know that even under Veritaserum, she would have no knowledge of this letter nor would she even understand what you are talking about and that is the fact of the matter.
For all that you are grieving right now let me tell you that you are not alone. There is one person who is also grieving for Sirius Black in ways that are not imaginable.
Harry, I tell you these things not for the fact that you have closed off your heart and mind to what your imperfect future destiny holds for you, but to help you save what is the best part of you.
Despite a ghastly childhood... you are a survivor. You began living for the first 10 years of your life in a cupboard under the stairs, being so called brought up by those unspeakable Muggles who thought of you as nothing more then an abomination of the flesh. Despite all of that, you have... what I truly believe is your most potent power...
Your ability to love... whether it is unconditional love or a love that is born from within the soul, you have an insatiable ability to love...
You have the power he knows not... That power is love...
I can just imagine you sitting there at your desk looking at this now with complete and utter shock at the fact that I mention something that only you and Albus Dumbledore knew anything about... that of the prophecy. The very same prophecy that led you and five others into the Ministry of Magic that night a few weeks ago…
The fucking prophecy that broke…
Prophecy be damned...
Your future is not and should not be based upon the fucking insane ranting of a psychic wannabe who spouts nonsense words of doom just to shape your life... no, your future is based upon what you make of it and who you share that subsequent time with. You have a choice in life… that is to do what is right and not what is easy… you can roll over and let the powers that be predict your future doom or you can get off the fucking pity pot of life and do what you need to do… Do not EVER think that you need to do any of this alone… no matter what Dumbledore or the Order say…
You NEED Hermione Granger, but more importantly she needs you. You are grieving for the man who was becoming a combination of father and brother to you... Hermione on the other hand is grieving not only for the loss of her dearest friends Godfather, but for a man who also had become essential in her life as well.
She saw Sirius Black not only as her best friend's Godfather, but as the man whom she helped escape a fate worse then death... a man whom she admired for his ability to overcome demons to try and rescue the son of his own close friends. In some ways he actually became a second father to her as well as you. She fought hard and overlooked her own fears to help you deal with whatever Sirius was facing just to be by your side to help you when you needed her to be.
However, something else you do not know is that your friend Hermione also has demons of her own. She is terrified of losing you... she works tirelessly trying to be the best and to know everything she can to help you. Being a Muggle-born witch she has prejudices against her that are unfathomable and yet she struggles against all just to make sure that she has all the answers in case you EVER need them...
At first, she dove into her studies to better herself because she is compulsive that way and then she met you and her life changed. She knew that she would do everything in her power imaginable to help you succeed. Not because she was 'just a busy body know it all', but because she had already given her heart to a boy with messy black hair and vibrant green eyes... From the moment she walked into a certain compartment of the Hogwarts Express looking for a frog named Trevor -- her life completely changed.
After the incident with the troll on Halloween during first year, she finally knew what it was like to have friends... her true and best friends. Something she had NEVER had before. Although she could quote from memory everything she had ever read about 'the boy who lived', she never saw you that way. She saw just Harry, who had become in her mind 'the boy who stole her heart'.
Never mind the fact that you think you have no idea about what love is between a man and a woman. Your own memories of the love your parents shared buried deep within your subconscious. Nevertheless, you KNOW they loved each other, more importantly... as you began feeling the resounding emotions upon seeing Hermione slide down to the ground after Dolohov’s curse, you realized you did indeed love Hermione Jane Granger as more then just a friend.
Alas, that realization was overshadowed by the loss of Sirius Black.
Therefore, here you sit in your small bedroom on Privet Drive feeling all of the grief and all of the fear of having just heard a prophecy that has thrown your already tumultuous life upside down again. You have cut yourself off from everyone, allowing yourself to still be beaten and verbally abused by your Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley even under the very nose of the Order... Their threats to Vernon and Petunia at the train station did nothing but cause you more pain and anguish… but you cannot let their usurious behavior continue.
You need to STOP this immediately. You have an opportunity now not only to grieve properly for the death of Sirius Black, but the chance to save the woman you love...
You may not acknowledge what you feel for Hermione right now as love... but it is and deep down inside you know it... and she NEEDS you possibly more than you even need her at this moment.
Maybe if I put it into perspective for you.
Depression in and of itself can be even more damaging then a Dementors kiss. It can wipe out your soul, your mind, even the love buried within your heart. Hearing voices is a bad thing even in the wizarding world and yet, a psychosis such as that born from grief can cause you to actually hear the internal battle going on within your mind. You begin to believe the 'voices' telling you that to cut yourself off from all you love is the right thing to do... To push yourself harder and faster -- heading for impending doom. Telling yourself that there is no reason to get close to someone that they are better off without having to 'deal' with you dying as well...
No, I am not describing you... As amazing as that may seem to be spot on, I am unfortunately describing what Hermione is going through right now. The curse nearly took her from you. You remember how that initial shock made you feel, how you were unable to move, breathe, stand… you could not function at all thinking that you had lead Hermione to her death… Then when Neville told you that he felt her pulse you got light headed and could breathe again… Yes, Dolohov’s curse nearly took Hermione from you… but in her mind, it already took you from her...
She has had Ron tell her repeatedly not to bother you in your time of grief... She is going along with this since in her mind she has lost you. Her sad, compulsive obsessive neurosis filled mind believes she has lost you forever… You have closed yourself off to everyone who cares about you and in doing so you have begun a chain reaction…
Hermione will change... slowly at first, becoming a very accomplished actress in making people believe that there is nothing wrong with her... She will still be obsessive about her marks in all of her classes choosing study over companionship of any type… Her grief will be redoubled by more loss, but it will appear to not affect her in any way.
After Hogwarts, however she will cut herself off from everyone including you... As much as she wants to she will not be by your side when Voldemort is vanquished... even though it will be the love you feel for her that will be Old Tom’s undoing. She will have vanished from your life...
Her life will spiral downward in such a way that even though she is the brightest and most clever witch of her time she will find herself a victim of alcohol and prescription drug abuse... products of her Muggle upbringing. She will develop two faces, a split personality if you must put a name on it... the one that the public sees as she becomes well known for her intellect and wisdom and the other one that is phobic, terrified to be even among those closest to her. She will try potions to 'cure' what ails her... finally going to muggle psychiatrists who will prescribe countless psychotropic medications that will in time dull her intellect, cloud her memory and cause her to want to be nothing more than become a recluse.
Not even her closest friends will be able to reach her in her depths of her despair... Along with the other psychosis she will develop another neurosis where she will mistaken sex for love, desperate to 'feel' love... giving herself willingly to any man who wants to bed her thinking that will be what love really and truly is, even though she KNOWS that only one man has hold of her heart... her love. She will become addicted by the act of sex itself and yet only find solace in her private fantasies about you...
That sounds pretty pathetic, does it not? How one person’s actions can affect another’s ability to actually live…
Unbelievably as it may seem, you are the only hope she has Harry... It is more then a saving people thing this time… We are talking your life… about the life you will share with Hermione, whether it be as friends or as lovers… that is a decision for the two of you in the future…
I know this all sounds more like a bunch of the old bullshit divination Trelawney mumbo-jumbo rubbish, but it is how it will happen if you do not do something to save Hermione and yourself... You will in time cut yourself off from the rest of the world as well as you are right now, but in doing so will further add to the destruction of you and Hermione.
Please Harry, Save Hermione... Save yourself... do not write her. CALL her, find a way to see her... Tonks should be outside watching under her invisibility cloak... have her help you.
I am begging you Harry... it is not too late, but if you wait until September 1st, it will be.
Love always,
The one who knows you better then anyone else...
Harry stared at the letter, the monumental unshed tears began to slide down his cheeks. He was in shock at what was being said in this letter and yet somehow deep in his heart he knew the words to be true… His heart began to pound hard against his chest as he allowed the tears to subside and then in a split second put his worn out trainers upon his feet and ran down the stairs for the front door.
“Tonks” he hissed at the darkness of the empty space around him. “Tonks! I mean it, I need to talk to you right now!”
“Wotcher Harry, keep your voice down” Tonks said in a quiet tone. “What is so powerfully important that you need to announce to the world of my presence? The Muggles aren’t giving you a hard time are they? It’s getting late you should be in bed.”
“It’s not about the muggles… at least not at the moment. You guys in the Order really don’t know what goes on behind these doors though… but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about…”
“What is it Harry? It sounds important.”
“I need to get over to Hermione’s house immediately… it’s an emergency.”
“What did you have another vision about you-know-who?”
“No, nothing like that… but… bloody hell just get me to Hermione’s please?” he begged her.
“I can’t promise you anything Harry…” she started.
“Fine, then I will get there myself. It’s dark out now so I will use my broom… I will risk the Ministry, Dumbledore and even Voldemort himself” Tonks cringed at the mention of Lord Voldemort’s name “to get to Hermione’s house. I have to go… I cannot explain any more than that. Since you won’t help me…”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you Harry… I just said I could not promise anything. Ok, here is what we will do… SHIT! … if Dumbledore finds out he will have my head…Fuck, if the Minister finds out they will have my job… Anyway, go get your coat and I will set up a portkey… It will take you there, I will apparate to you there and we will take care of it after that… I think Remus is watching Hermione’s right now so I best follow you over.”
“Thanks Tonks… I will owe you one big time for this. I’ll even swear a Wizard’s oath to you about it if I must.” Harry said.
“No you don’t Harry… No wizard’s oath for you today… Go get your coat and I will let Remus know we’re coming.”
Harry ran back inside, grabbing his jacket and the letter, he came back out. Tonks was nowhere to be seen but heard her voice telling him to grab hold of the newspaper and she would see him soon.
Upon picking up the newspaper he had just enough time to stand upright before he felt the familiar tug at his navel taking him to where he needed to go.
He found himself inside an enclosed porch of a large white house with blue trim. Tossing the paper over onto one of the chairs on the porch, he went over and knocked upon the door.
A woman he knew to be Mrs. Granger answered surprised at the visitor.
“Harry, what are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to be disturbing you and your family at this time, but I need to see Hermione right now.” Harry said, his eyes beseeching the need and hoping that she would allow him inside. Even though it was just after nightfall, it was still late, however the overpowering need was taking control of his sense of propriety.
“Normally, I would suggest that you come back tomorrow during the day… but Hermione has been closed up in her room since she got home from school. I was beginning to think we would need to have your Headmaster step in or even seek professional help for her. Just go upstairs, it’s the third bedroom on the right.” Mrs. Granger said placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “I hope you can say something to her… she isn’t eating at all, hasn’t even opened a single book that I know of and she’s been having nightmares… I hear her cry out in the night but she refuses to talk to me or anyone else about what is going on.”
“I’ll do what I can… I have a… feeling, she is going through more grief about my Godfather’s death than what she is letting on…” Harry said solemnly “I think it is something that she and I can work on together.”
Mrs. Granger nodded and led him over to the base of the stairs. “Good luck Harry.” She said as she watched the young man bound up the stairs two at a time.
Harry stood in front of Hermione’s bedroom door unsure if he should knock or just walk in. His indecision was short lived when he heard a whimper and then a cry come from the other side. He hurriedly opened the door and was nearly sick when he looked inside. He wondered where Crookshanks was at when sight of the normally neat and tidy young woman’s room being in shambles. Books, parchment, quills and clothing were strewn all across the floor.
Harry was very familiar with this type of disarray, as his own room looked in much the same state much of this and the previous summer holiday. Hermione was lying haphazardly upon her large bed. She looked as though it had been several days since she had showered or changed clothing. Her normally bushy hair was bunched into a matted mess; her coloring was pale and unhealthy looking. Her clothing was loose and hanging off her partially unbuttoned and exposing more of her than she would normally have shown.
He saw there was a bottle of sleeping pills on her bedside cupboard that were an over the counter brand that could be bought at any local druggist. Harry ran to the side of the bed and pulled the young woman up into his arms. Carefully he tried to shake her awake.
“Come on Hermione… wake up… it’s me Harry.” He pleaded, tears pooling in his emerald eyes. His heart began pounding faster, was he too late to help her… to save her? He kept trying to shake her gently awake. Memories of that night a few weeks before came flooding back to him. He refused to allow his mind to shut down when Hermione needed him so desperately.
A few incoherent mutterings came from Hermione as Harry pleaded again, the small utterances caused him momentary joy as he took her into his arms and hugged her gently. It was several tense minutes of continued pleading before Hermione’s normally bright cinnamon colored eyes eased open.
If it was true that the eyes were the mirrors of the soul then Harry now had evidence before him that the young woman in his arms had a very tortured soul. Was this how he looked as well?
“H-H-Harry?” she whimpered tragically.
“Yes, I’m here… you are not alone…” he held her body tighter to him trying to convey all the love he truly felt for her.
“I l-l-lost you… I c-c-couldn’t help you save S-S-Sirius… H-H-Harry… Oh God, Sirius is d….” She started to say then stopped and began to cry uncontrollably.
“You haven’t lost me love… I’m here now…” He began to cry as well holding on to her, rocking her to try and comfort her as she cried. “You were right when you told Ron that we needed to talk about Sirius’s death. Neither of us should have tried to grieve alone.”
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more Harry… I should have been able to help you… It’s my fault Sirius died… I should have been able to stop you from going to the Ministry…” Hermione cried. He pulled away from her and tried to look into her eyes. She pulled her face way from him seeming ashamed of her actions.
“Hermione… Look at me… Look at me” she raised her face and tried to focus her honey colored eyes upon his deep emerald green ones “Now listen to my voice… it is not your fault nor is it my fault that Sirius was killed… It has taken me a while to understand that myself. We were all tricked by Voldemort and his minions… Sirius knew the risk he was taking by going… I know, I have tried for the longest time to place the blame on myself… that I had killed Sirius… I hear the voices too you know…” Hermione’s eyes grew wide at this… resembling the surprise of having your deepest secrets revealed. “The internal voices that battle within us about what is right and what is wrong… I hear them all the time… it is part of what Voldemort has used against me… trying to weaken me…”
“I thought I was going insane because I kept hearing voices in my head… Then I thought it was perhaps the potions I had had to take because of the curse I was hit with… when the potions ended, I still could not sleep… I kept hearing the voices and my imagination kept showing me pictures of what you were doing in the Ministry. I kept reliving that horrible night over and over again… but in my mind… it was ME who put Sirius through the veil… because it was my fault we had gotten there in the first place.”
“Oh Mione… please… don’t do this to yourself… please sweetheart, we will work this out together…” He hugged her close again finally feeling her relax within his embrace.
Mrs. Granger stood in the doorway having heard most of what had been said. She was in shock at the sight of Hermione’s normally compulsively clean room. She had tried for days to get through to Hermione but no amount of talking had done a bit of good… she sighed at the fact that at least Harry had been able to break down the wall that had been encasing Hermione so far during summer term.
Hearing her sigh, Harry turned and saw Mrs. Granger standing there with tears in her eyes. “Mrs. Granger, could you go down stairs, have Tonks come up here she, and Remus Lupin should be on guard duty in front of the house, they will be in their invisibility cloaks.”
“By all means Harry…” she started to leave and then ran into the room and placed a loving hand on Harry’s shoulder then leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thank you Harry… for saving my little girl.”
This startled Harry, but then he just gave her a tender smile and said, “I will do anything in my power to save Hermione…”
In no time Tonks had used magic to make right of Hermione’s room, then had taken the young woman into the bathroom to help her get cleaned up and redressed. While they were doing this Remus Lupin had come in to talk to Harry. Harry explained to Remus the amount of grief that both he and Hermione were going through and hoped that there would be a way for them to stay together to work through the grief. Harry then showed Remus the letter he had received and saw a combination of guilt, pain and disgust upon his face as he read the letter.
“This letter was prophetic… you know that don’t you?” Remus said quietly.
“I don’t know what it was other then it was a wake up call for me to get off my self imposed pity pot and get doing what I should have all along. If I had continued on the way I had, I could have lost Hermione forever… I couldn’t have lived with myself if that had happened.” Harry said placing the folded parchment back into his jeans.
“Harry, I will not ever tell you how I think you should live your life… but I will say this, you are an extremely lucky man for finding someone like Hermione… she reminds me a lot of Lily… although not as harsh a sense of humor as what Lily had. I blame that entirely on James and Sirius…” he said with a sad grin. “It’s going to take time, I miss him too…”
“Just remember Moony, you are not alone.” Harry said pulling the older man into a hug.
Remus left for a little while, but when he returned he had all of Harry’s belongings that Mrs. Granger had him place in the guest room nearest Hermione’s room. Remus then explained that after explaining things to Dumbledore they decided along with the Grangers that it would be in Harry and Hermione’s best interest to stay there at the Granger’s home in Cambridge.
When Hermione came back into the room, she was embarrassed and ashamed of the condition of her life when Harry had arrived. “Ron’s always going on that I’m mental… I guess he is right.” She said sadly.
“Mione, that can be said about both of us… you should never be ashamed or embarrassed… you did nothing wrong. Depression is an illness… It can lead to very serious and dangerous side affects…” he changed the pitch of his voice so it would lighten the mood, “Now as for the rest of the summer… you will have to put up with me… Do you think you can do that?” he said with a sly grin.
“You mean it?” she said as he nodded, she then threw her arms around his neck and gave him a hug.
Having opened his heart up to the emotions that had been waging a war with in him since the night at the Ministry, Harry began to feel so much more comfortable with expressing the emotions he experienced. Hermione had been the first one to ever give him a hug… she had given him his first kiss on the cheek… She had been first in Harry’s heart for so long that now he knew… She would be his first, last and always love…
Pulling back just slightly he cupped the sides of her face gently, then lightly pressed his lips against hers. The voices inside his mind were telling him, THIS was how a kiss should be and not that wet slobbering mess that he shared with Cho… This was his first REAL kiss and he soon felt Hermione relax against him. He kissed her again and felt her surrender to his kiss as they both began to feel the love that was being passed between them.
“Wotcher Harry! I do hope I am interrupting something.” Tonks chuckled.
Grinning both Harry and Hermione pulled away, turned slightly towards their metamorphic friend, and held each other tenderly. “Actually…” Hermione started to say.
“You didn’t interrupt anything that can’t be continued later…” Harry finished with a grin making sure that Hermione understood that this was not just a one-time kiss.
“Well good for you now. Just so you know, the Order will have two people here outside at all times now.” She said with a wink. “I get to spend the first shift here with Remus.” Her grin grew bigger at this.
“Maybe you can help him with his grief… like Harry is helping me with ours.” Hermione said giving a scandalous wink at their Auror friend.
“Hmm, you know that could be a very viable solution to all our problems…” she said laughing aloud.
“Honestly though” Harry said in earnest, “All of us need to work out the grief we share for the death of Sirius… I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but we all loved Sirius very much and it’s going to need a little of that kind of love and caring that we had with him to help us get past this.”
Tonks looked at the young man for a serious moment “You are very right about that Harry… I loved my cousin and I will not lie and say I don’t miss the old fleabag. I know Remus must be deeply hurt… I know I am… However, we all have to remember that we are not alone in this world no matter what else is going on… I think we all forgot about that for a while.” She walked over and gave the two teens hugs. “I’m going to say good night and I will talk to you soon… Oh and by the way, Hedwig is in the guest room… so you might want to send a note off to Ron and the Weasley’s to let them know where you are now Harry.”
“I will…” he turned and looked lovingly at Hermione, “There is a few things I need to tell Ron about…”
“Alright then, good night you two…”
Harry and Hermione followed Tonks to the front door and then went into the lounge where both Dr’s Granger was seated.
“Are you feeling better dear?” Mrs. Granger said with concern.
“Yes Mum, It’s going to take some time, but I think Harry and I can work through the grief…” Hermione said quietly.
“I am sure you will” Mr. Granger said. “Well your mum and I have early appointments so we are going up to bed. There is still some dinner in the warmer for you both, I am sure that you are going to be up all night talking.”
“Dad, before you go up to bed… I know you trust Harry and me… I want to thank you for that.”
“You have known each other for a long time and have spent more time together then you have with us… if we can’t trust you by now then we have misplaced that trust somewhere. I will not say I approve or disapprove of you becoming involved because admittedly that is not my decision. That is for you both to decided, you and Harry are best friends and whether you decide to go beyond that… well lets just say that I just hope and pray that you both use good, common sense when it comes to all adult decisions you may make… no matter what they may be.” He walked over, kissed his daughter on the forehead, and shook Harry’s hand. “I couldn’t have asked for my daughter to have a better friend then you, I know your parents would have been very proud of the man you have become Harry…”
“I know I am proud of you Harry” Mrs. Granger said as she in turn kissed both the teens on the cheek goodnight.
“Thank you… both of you. Your words mean a great deal to me… I will say this, I do not ever want there to be a time that you are disappointed in myself or in Hermione…”
After her parents had gone to bed, Harry and Hermione headed into the kitchen and ate their dinner.
“So what caused you to come over here tonight Harry?” Hermione asked as she took a bite of her potatoes.
“I sort of got a wake up call of the future.” Harry said as Hermione gave him a puzzled look. He began to explain how he had been feeling since the night at the Ministry and then explained the letter he had received.
“But who wrote the letter?” Hermione asked.
“That’s the confusing part… Mione, I know your handwriting… it looked just like yours except…”
“Except what?”
“In the letter the writer said that it wasn’t you and that you were incapable of writing these words at this time… Does that make sense?”
“Well, I was incapable of writing for the last week or so… but I would have known if I had written such a letter…”
“Who ever wrote the letter knew us both… very well. The writer also opened my eyes to quite a few things… Like the fact that I care for you more then just being best friends… Mione, I can imagine what you have been going through… I know how evil depression can get… Nevertheless, had it been Ron going through this… I would not have run off like that for him… Don’t tell him that though.”
“Really Harry?”
“Really… Ron may be my first best mate, but you… you mean the world to me… I love you Hermione and I never want to lose you.”
Hermione’s fork dropped with a clatter on the plate as she moved around to where Harry sat and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I never thought… I had hoped… but I never thought you would ever love me…” she looked into his eyes that were glistening with tears again, “I love you too Harry James Potter… more then you will ever know.”
“How about we clean these plates up and then go into the lounge and talk… I need to get some things off my chest… I will tell you this though… neither one of us will ever be alone again… not if I have anything to do or say about it.”
“I want to believe that… it’s going to take some time you know, to work through all of the garbage that is stored up here,” she said tapping the side of her head. “We both have demons to deal with… you all the crap you have grown up with and me for all the insecurities I have developed over the years…”
“Yup we have some demons to vanquish… the sooner those are gone, the sooner we can begin to live our lives… the way they were mean to be lived… Together.”
After all the cleaning up in the kitchen had been done they wandered back into the lounge and sat together on the settee. Harry told Hermione about the prophecy, about the events that occurred in Dumbledore’s office the night Sirius died. Hermione had cried a bit upon hearing the details of the prophecy, fearing the worst for Harry.
“It’s going to be alright love… I have something that Voldemort doesn’t… The power of Love…” Harry said as Hermione leaned into his embrace.
Finally, Harry showed Hermione the letter and after having read the prophetic words she shook silently at what could have happened to her had Harry not come to her rescue that evening.
“Do you really think it is possible that who ever wrote that letter actually wrote it from the future?”
“That’s an interesting theory Hermione… if that’s the case…”
“Then that person who wrote the letter in the future was me…” Hermione said quietly. “That would explain a lot.”
“Mione, if that is the truth… After reading what the future holds… I will do everything I can to make sure that your future is perfect…and not the imperfect one it described.” He said as he kissed her tenderly again and felt her body respond to the love they both now shared openly and honestly with each other.
For now, this was all they needed… a chance for two people who love each other completely and honestly to love each other in return. They would look to going beyond the hugs and kisses sometime later in the future… They had time on their side… That and love, they did not need anything else.
***********
In the deep vortex of time and space a small shallow voice cried out with relief…
Love will always find a way… Love WILL conquer all.
The End