Promises to Keep

Promises to Keep

Originally written for the fourth inspiration contest held by Quills and Spills. One of the scenes is based on her fanart for the contest so check it out.

Note: This was also inspired by the song Vindicated by Dashboard Confessionals.

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“It’s raining again.” He mumbled to himself as he stared out the window, watching the streams slide down the window pane and blurring up his view. It had been raining for a few days now, the cold seeping in through the stone walls of Hogwarts. Heat charms had been placed to keep everyone comfortable, but Harry Potter had come to realize that if you were to touch the windows, you would feel the chill almost immediately.

He was sitting by the high windows in the Gryffindor Common room in one of those states of mind where it would just wander aimlessly around with no particular thought to focus on. During these moments, he relished his solitude.

“What did you say Harry?” Well, almost solitude at least.

He turned to see Hermione Granger peering over the top of her book at him curiously. He blinked when he realized that she was talking to him. “I said it’s raining again.” He repeated and cast a hasty glance outside before moving to join her on the couch. A few lingering students bustled about to finish the last of their homework before turning in to bed. With the raindrops pelting the window lightly and the fire crackling in the fireplace, Harry was glad that he decided to stay up instead of turning in like Ron did a few hours ago. Sometimes he just needed theses precious moments of calm – something that was hard to come by these days.

Hermione cast a glance out the window and nodded her head slightly. “Yeah, it’s been raining since Wednesday.”

“I wish it wasn’t.” He replied. “Rain is so gloomy.”

“Really?” She asked, surprised. “I like rain.”

“Why?” He asked, curiosity present in his eyes. “It’s so cold and wet, you can’t go out or anything.” Perhaps it was the glow of the fire that danced across her face, but Harry was pretty sure that she colored a bit. “Well, it’s silly really,” She laughed embarrassedly. “But I’ve always wanted to go dancing in the rain.”

The surprised must’ve been evident on his face, because her cheeks grew rosier (and at this point, he knew she was blushing) and she started babbling on about it. Harry understood of course, it’s just that he never really pegged his friend as the romantic type. Perhaps all girls were the same deep down when he thought about it, they all wanted that one special person to dance with them in the rain.

“…anyway, I don’t really expect to do it any time soon, if at all.” She finished and looked down at her book, tucking in a lock of her bushy hair behind her ear.

“I’ll take you some day.” That made her snap her head back up at him in surprise. “What? No Harry, it was just a whim that I had for a while. You don’t have to do that. Besides, we’ll probably catch a cold and Madame Pomfrey will kill us if we end up in the Hospital Wing again this month…I’ve got to finish up my reading too and it’s really too late to be wandering outside.”

He smiled a bit. She was rambling again – typical Hermione. “I never said I’d take you this second,” He replied. “Just someday. Don’t worry about getting sick, I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“…But you said that you hate the rain.” She protested weakly, drawing the book up to cover half of her face to hide her blush. She was being so uncharacteristically shy now. It really was quite endearing. “I never said that so don’t fight me on it. I’ll take you one day, promise.”

She hesitated a bit before relenting and nodded her head. “Thanks Harry, I’ll hold you to that.” She smiled. He grinned softly at her in return and she lowered her eyes back to the pages in her book. Harry watched her for a while before shifting his gaze back to the window and listened to the light hiss of the rain and the crackling fireplace.

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This wasn’t right. This was wrong, so utterly wrong.

She was getting married.

When did this happen? Who was he? Why wasn’t it him?

Harry’s desk was in complete disarray. Balls of crumpled parchments littered the floor, broken quills were angrily tossed away when he had pressed too hard while writing, and ink smudges stained his fingers and desk. He had been sitting there for hours trying to write to her, wracking his head to find the right words to convince her to end the engagement before it was too late, all the while having his aching heart twisting in the pit of his knotted stomach beating, ‘it’s too late, she won’t be mine, it’s too late, she won’t be mine, it’s too late, it’s too late…’

What words could he pen to get her to be single again? What could he possibly say? That he wanted her to break the engagement off because he wanted to be with her? That he was in love with her? Why would she possibly listen to him? He had so much time to do something about his feelings in the past and the fact that he never even hinted at it would make him look foolish in her eyes. She would doubt his honesty.

But he couldn’t lose her without a fight. Harry had to make at least one claim for her heart.

So Harry sat there for a few more hours, scribbling furiously over several sheets of parchments, trying so hard to articulate his affections only to realize that the words he wanted eluded him; that words failed to truly express how much it hurt to know that she was going to belong to someone else. How could he possibly tell her that he could barely breathe when she wasn’t near him? That his heart raced so fast when she was near, he was sure it would burst from anxiety and joy? That he breathed her name every second of every day for the past seven years?

In the end he desperately scribbled the best thing he could think of, dried the ink with a spell, and sealed it in an envelope. Harry waved his hand at his desk and the mess cleared up instantly. He penned her name with all the love from his heart and was about to call Hedwig to deliver it to her when he paused.

He slumped back in his chair, staring at her name that was scribbled in his messy handwriting. What the hell was he doing?

She must love him terribly if she agreed to marry him. Harry couldn’t think of any other reason why she would accept. The weight of this revelation nearly crushed him. “S-she loves him.” He said bitterly. Those words poisoned him. “She loves him, not me...never me.”

It would be selfish of him to ruin her happiness because of his own feelings. Worst yet, it would be terrible to lose their friendship because of his selfishness. But Harry couldn’t help it. He was so terribly selfish and horrible for waiting so long and thinking that she’d always be there for him. He didn’t want to share her with anyone at all, especially with some bloke that would soon be her husband. She was supposed to be his alone forever.

If he sent the letter, she would be distraught for not feeling the same way about him. Things would be awkward and he could not have that. He would keep his secret and let her go. His heart bled with the thought that he would have to live without her love – the kind of love that he wanted at least, the kind of love he felt for her.

‘It’s too late, she won’t be mine. It’s too late, it’s too late, it’s too late…’

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The wedding was tomorrow, New Year’s Eve. A time for new beginnings and resolutions to be made and kept when the clock struck midnight.

Harry told her that he was previously engaged and couldn’t get out of it. The look of hurt and disappointment on her face made him sad but the thought of watching her with another man made him want to die. He could not punish himself like that. It would be impossible for him to keep quiet when the priest uttered, “Speak now or forever hold your peace.” He didn’t trust that he could reframe from standing up and embarrassing her.

She would forgive him for missing her wedding eventually. She would never forgive him if he ruined it.

He made empty promises to try and at least make it to the dinner party afterwards. Truth be told, he wasn’t busy that day, not with something so important that he needed to miss a wedding. Other than a report to write and a few bills to pay, he had nothing to do. Harry of course, didn’t tell her that. He would just show up to work – the only one who would be in the building most likely. Once he made sure that everything was in order and sent Hedwig away to deliver a few things to Ron and the Ministry, he proceeded to drown himself in several bottles of firewhiskey, hoping to numb the pain of unrequited love.

Eventually he passed out on his couch and entered the only place where she would be his. Harry much preferred the dream world to the waking world for this reason alone.

He didn’t even notice that Hedwig had been carrying an extra letter when it left.

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Hermione was exhausted. There was no chance that when she woke up that she wouldn’t be sore all over. She had gone on a tour of Wellington all morning and when John had suggested that they go swimming, she had opted for getting some rest.

“I have to look my best for tomorrow.” She insisted, already heading up the stairs. “And I can’t very well do that with circles under my eyes.”

“Since when were you one to worry about such things?” He asked, brown eyes crinkling with mischief.

“Since I had to get married. Then again, I could always cancel the wedding.” Hermione teased. John ran up and grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her up and carried her the rest of the way up.

“Can’t have that now can we?” He said, while she laughed, telling him to put her down. When he reached her room, he flung the door open and dropped her on the bed. “There now, you rest up and I’ll go teach Ron the basics of tennis. Honestly, you’d think he came from another world with his lack of knowledge on how to play the simplest games.”

Hermione’s smile faded. “John, when you turn in, come and wake me okay? I have something to tell you.” He didn’t notice the serious tone and nodded his head absently. “All right, but if you get all cranky, it’s not my fault. You take a nap and I’ll wake you up when to go swimming later okay?”

“Oh all right you child.” She conceded wearily.

She nervously chewed on her bottom lip. How could she begin to explain to him that she was a witch?. A tapping on her window drew her out of her thoughts. She turned to see a familiar snowy white owl pecking at the glass and smiled brightly. Crossing the room, Hermione opened the window and allowed it to fly inside and perch on the bedpost.

“Hello Hedwig, got a letter for me?” She asked. It hooted in response, stretching out its leg. Hermione untied the letter and was struck with the sudden urge to write back to him. After all, maybe she could convince him to come tomorrow. “Hedwig, would you mind delivering a letter to Harry for me?” It hooted and ruffled its feathers, settling down for a bit. She scribbled a brief note and then tied it to Hedwig’s leg, before the owl took off for home.

Hopefully he’ll come. She thought to herself. It’s weird not having him around. Hermione turned her attention back to the letter lying on her desk. She picked it up and smiled when she saw her name written in his usual messy handwriting.

I wonder what this is about. She opened the letter and read it.

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A few hours later, Harry awoke to the sharpest tapping he’d ever heard in his life. Hangover. He thought vaguely before wincing as he struggled to stop the room from spinning. He slowly opened his eyes, grateful to realize that the sun had set so he wouldn’t need to deal with the harsh light.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Unable to stand the sound any longer, he slowly made his way to the window and allowed Hedwig to fly in. “What time is it?” He mumbled hoarsely. Harry stumbled to where his clock hung on the wall and saw the arrow pointing to ‘Really late. You should be sleeping.’ Great, He thought. I should’ve gotten the muggle clock. Hedwig hooted in greeting and landed in the table, skidding to a halt. It hooted again, watching him with big golden eyes.

Rubbing his temples, Harry conjured up a quick relief to his problem and gulped it down, grimacing at the bitter liquid. When he was sure that he was sober again, he held out an arm for his owl to perch on. When it perched on his arm, gripping as tenderly as it could, mindful of its sharps talons, Harry untied the letter from its leg and gently placed her in her cage, mumbling “Goodnight” before covering the cage so that she could sleep.

He sighed and decided to take a look at the letter. Who in their right mind would send him something at this hour? Harry was tempted to send the person a howler when he recognized the neat handwriting. Her handwriting. Eager as always to receive anything from her, he opened the letter and read it.

Harry,

Sorry for waking you up, you must’ve been sleeping when this finally reached you. Everyone’s in Wellington now and the apparition wards are up so I can’t just pop in and say hello (not quite sure you’d appreciate me waking you up in person anyway). This place is really beautiful; I wish you could be here with us to enjoy the view. Perhaps you’ll reconsider and fly in? You still have some time, although you would be terribly jetlagged. Ron is definitely enjoying the sports here, it’s fascinating how good at biking he is even though he fell down a steep hill during his first try when his foot got caught in the wheel (don’t tell him I told you, I promised I wouldn’t mention it).

John’s been having a great time here, I wonder how I’ll possibly keep up with him. To be honest, I’m a bit nervous. Marriage is such a huge step, but I think that everything will be fine. Must be the pre-wedding jitters. I haven’t told him yet. I know, I know. I should tell him soon, but I can’t really find the right moment. Then again, there’s really no ‘right moment’ to tell someone that you’re a witch. I don’t know, perhaps I’m just being fussy again for no reason at all. I really wish that you were here, I need both of my best friends with me. Are you absolutely positive you can’t come? If not, I won’t hold it against you, I know that you take your job very seriously – as you should as Head of your own Auror Division.

Okay, I’ve done enough rambling for now. I have to get some sleep before John wakes me up and make me do good on my forced promise to join him for a swim. You can get back to sleeping now.

Love from,

Hermione

And she would never know how much pain she had caused him with the signed affection. How the love she sent wasn’t the kind of love he needed from her. How the thought of her fiancée taking a swim with her made his eyes greener with jealousy.

Harry crumpled the letter up and tossed it away violently, tears in his eyes.

“If…if I had another chance,” He whispered fiercely to himself, whispered desperately as his tears spilled down. “If I had another chance, I swear I’ll tell her…I swear it.”

But there was no such thing as a second chance for him. Harry Potter only got one because he was expected to get it right the first time.

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Today was the tenth of January. Hermione Granger had disappeared ten days ago and in her place was Hermione Wickham, wife of John Wickham. They were most likely enjoying their honeymoon on the Samoa Islands right now. Their wedding was supposed to be on the front page of all the newspapers. No one could stop talking about it. After all, who would’ve pegged Hermione Granger to be the first to marry out of the Legendary Trio? And for it to not be to Harry Potter or Ronald Weasley was definitely a shock to say the least, for everyone had assumed that it would’ve been between one of the two.

Harry had certainly dreamed so, dreamed that it would’ve been him.

He was walking on Hogwarts ground. Dumbledore had wanted to speak with him about something pertaining to the classes at the school and had arranged for him to be brought to Hogwarts by carriage. Harry had of course, refused the offer and told his old Headmaster that he preferred to walk the way there from Hogsmeade.

“You do realize that it’s been predicted that today will be raining heavily, correct?” Dumbledore asked him, peering down at his head in the fireplace.

“I don’t mind.” Harry replied dully. Blue eyes twinkled softly at his former student’s drawn face. “Mr. Potter, is there something you would care to discuss?” Predictably, he shook his head.

“I suppose that I shall see you in a few hours then?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit.” Harry answered.

It had been unusually bright for the past few days and Harry felt that he was perhaps the only one feeling so miserable. As he walked on the road leading to Hogwarts however, the sky clouded over and within seconds, split open and drenched the world with rain. It was as if someone had decided to show some semblance of sympathy for him. Harry wasn’t going to complain about the rain, his mood was already too low to be ruined any further. If anything, he was grateful for the rain for numbing his emotional wounds.

For the past ten days, Harry had done nothing but torture his poor heart with thoughts of her. Were they married yet? Was he kissing her? Is she happy with him? Was he touching her at this very second? Did she like him touching her? He had painfully cried himself to sleep time after time with those same questions drifting in his head. He didn’t even want the answers. All he wanted were his dreams where Hermione loved him the way he loved her and they were together. Everyday he would wake up and nearly die when he realized that his dreams were just that, and that she wasn’t by his side.

I have to stop doing this. He berated himself as he walked on, numb from the cold – he didn’t even bring a coat. It isn’t good for me to keep holding onto her. But it was impossible for him to forget about her, to let her go. It hurt him so to acknowledge that they were really over, over before it even begun. It was even more impossible for him to imagine someone else replacing her. Harry could never replace her. He didn’t even notice that his tears had slowly made their way down his face, mingling with the rain.

The castle loomed ahead of him, looking formidable from the outside but he knew that it was warm with students bustling around happily. Harry knew what would happen. The second he walked in, all eyes would look at him and then flicker to his scar. He would be bombarded of course, with questions about anything and everything. Then the House Elves would have a feast prepared for him and quickly spell his clothes dry. That was the price of being a hero.

He wasn’t ready for that just yet. Harry made a slight detour, deciding to visit Hagrid and catch up on whether there were any illegal creatures that he was housing. The rain wasn’t falling as intensely as before but it was still drumming down steadily. Lightning lit up the whole sky and for the first time in years, Harry saw the Forbidden Forest.

It still had its dark aura surrounding its premises and for years, Harry had wondered why it was even a part of Hogwarts. He drew the conclusion that perhaps there were some things there that were too deadly to control and it was Dumbledore’s power alone that could tame the darkness lurking inside. He started walking towards it, slowly at first, contemplating just what it was that he was about to do. Maybe whatever’s in there might finish me off. He thought hopefully. Then I won’t hurt so much thinking about Hermione. I wouldn’t have to worry about being The Boy Who Lived.

He started walking a bit faster now, eager to find an end to his heartache. She’ll be sad for a while, but she’ll move on and forget about me. He grew sad at the thought but continued on his path. It’s better this way. My destiny is fulfilled. I’m not needed anymore. Harry wished that it wasn’t true. That Hermione would still need him and Ron and Remus and The Weasleys would too. He could almost hear her voice calling out to him. In fact, it seemed to be getting louder oddly enough. But Harry knew that it was impossible, she was thousands of miles away.

Splash! Splash! Splash! Splash!

Someone was coming. He stopped and turned around, trying to see who it was. “Who is it?” He called out, thinking that it was a student out to visit Hagrid’s hut. Must’ve gotten a bit lost, Hagrid’s hut is a few yards away. A blurry pink figure appeared and it started to get bigger. Harry squinted, trying to see who it was.

And then he heard her.

“Harry,” She gasped, trying to catch her breath.

“Her- Hermione?” He asked in awe. What was she doing here?

“Harry, didn’t you hear me calling you from the road?” She asked. He shook his head, water droplets flinging off his hair and face. “Oh Harry, you’re soaked! If you insist on walking, why didn’t you charm yourself? Or at the very least, wear a coat. You’re sweater isn’t going to do you any good if it’s drenched as well.” She admonished. Hermione covered him under her umbrella and took her wand from her pocket. Tapping his glasses gently, she charmed it so that it was dry and repelling the raindrops. “There,” She said pleased. “Bet this is better huh?”

It took a while for his eyes to focus but when everything cleared, his heart stilled.

She was so lovely. The prettiest girl he’d ever seen. His green eyes warmed, taking in her features as she concentrated on charming his clothes the same way she charmed his glasses. She must be a dream. He thought sadly.

When she finished, Hermione looked up and saw the most forlorn expression on his face and her heart gave a pang of concern. “Harry, what’s wrong?” Reaching out a hand, she touched his cheek and winced at how cold it was. He seemed surprised when she touched him, as if he thought that she wasn’t real. “You’re freezing. Come on, let’s go inside. You might catch your death out here.”

His eyes flickered to the castle and then back at her with his solemn, tired green eyes. Hermione was surprised when he knocked the umbrella out of her hand and laid his hand on her shoulder.

“Harry! What did you do that for?” She demanded angrily. “You’re lucky I performed the charm on myself too, otherwise I’d hex you.” She was surprised when he smiled a bit and leaned into her hand. “Harry?” She asked, uncertainly. “You’re scaring me.” And he was, looking at her with his eyes half closed, smiling at her as if she wasn’t really there. What happened to her best friend?

“Let’s dance.”

She blinked in surprise. “What?”

Harry took her hand off his cheek and held it in his cold hand while his other hand slid from her shoulders and stopped at her waist. “I promised you I’d take you dancing in the rain.” He said softly and started to sway her around. She didn’t know what to do so she allowed him to lead her into a slow dance with no music other than the rhythm of the rain. To be honest, it was rather nice that he remembered his promise all those years ago, but Hermione was sure that it would’ve been better if she knew what was bothering him.

His words triggered the question that she’d been aching to know the answer to for days. “Harry, what was that letter that you sent me about?”

“What letter?” He drew her closer and rested his head against hers.

“The letter you sent me a day before my wedding.” She answered, wincing at the thought of the event. Hermione wasn’t too fond of thinking about it. “You told me not to marry him remember?” She felt him slightly nod against her head. Why is he acting like this?

Don’t marry him. I still have to take you dancing in the rain.

Harry remembered. He also remembered that he never sent it to her. It was odd how this dream was so different from the rest. It felt so real. He knew that it wasn’t though, real that is. Hermione was enjoying her honeymoon and he had most likely grown delirious from being out in the rain for too long and pictured that she was with him right now. And since he knew that it could do him no good or harm, Harry decided to indulge his imaginary Hermione’s questions and allowed his secrets to spill out.

“I didn’t send you the letter.” He whispered to her softly. “I didn’t want to ruin your wedding.”

To say that Hermione was confused would be an understatement. “But you did,” She insisted. “Hedwig delivered it to me.”

He laughed a bit, twirling her around once and drawing her closer to him. “Silly girl.” He teased. “The blasted thing is lying on my desk at home. I suppose I should’ve sent it to you though, after sitting at my desk so long and trying to figure out how to tell you.” Her heart was pounding so hard that she was sure he heard it. “W-what were you trying to tell me, Harry?” He pulled back and looked at her, smiling at the wide eye expression and the confusion in her brown eyes.

“That I’m in love with you.” He said simply. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I just couldn’t bear to watch you marry some other bloke. That’s why I didn’t go to the wedding.”

The weight of the revelation was just too much for her to grasp. “You lied to me?”

Harry stopped moving hugged her. “I’m sorry Hermione.” He mumbled into her hair, making her heart pound painfully in her chest. He pulled his head back a bit and kissed her. It was only when she pulled away abruptly did Harry open his eyes and suddenly became aware that things were off. In his dreams she had never pulled away from him. In his imagination, she had never looked at him with such shock.

Harry realized with a growing dread that he hadn’t been hallucinating at all. That Hermione was really in his arms.

What have I done? He thought, horrified at the scared expression on her face. “I – I…Oh god, Hermione. I didn’t think you were real!” He desperately tried to catch her eyes but she avoiding looking at him. “I’m so sorry, Hermione. Pl – please look at me.”

“It’s cold,” She said softly. “Let’s go inside. Dumbledore’s waiting for us.” She was walking away from him. He ruined everything.

No, no, no, no, no. Why did this have to happen? Why was he always so wrong?

But I’m not wrong. His heart screamed out. How can I be wrong for feeling this way? How am I wrong for loving her?

“Hermione!” He shouted and ran after her. I’m not. I’m right. I swear I am! He caught up with her and spun her around. “Please don’t run away from me!” Harry forced her to meet his eyes and drew her into a painful embrace.

“I’m still Harry.” He told her. “I want to still be one of your best friends from school. I don’t want you to avoid me because I told you how I feel. I don’t expect you to return my feelings at all, but I’m not wrong for feeling this way. I just don’t deserve you at all, I’m too flawed. I do love you, very much.” He pulled away and look at her, unable to hide his sadness from her. “In fact, I love you enough to let you go. Already have in fact. You’re a married woman now.”

He smiled bitterly as he tried to keep up his brave face. “So don’t worry okay? Everything will still be the same. I’m sure John will take great care of you.” But not as well as I would’ve. Hermione didn’t say anything, still avoiding his eyes. “We should go inside.” His arms slipped from her small frame and slowly started walking toward the castle. Harry felt her hesitation but she followed him.

They reached the door and when they entered, he didn’t realize how cold he had been until he felt the sharp sting of warm air on his cold body. He looked over at Hermione and saw her shivering as well. She still hadn’t said anything.

It was too much to expect that things would still be the same. “I’m sorry.” He said once again. Honestly, he was.

She shifted and after a moment, she looked up. “I’m sorry too.” Pity. She didn’t feel the same. He expected as much, but it still hurt to have it confirmed. He was surprised when she kept talking though.

“You’ve told me a lot of things before, and it took me a while to fully grasp what you said.” She explained walking toward him. “I think that I have a good idea on what I feel about everything so I’ll tell you what I think.” In spite of himself, a smile curved his mouth a bit. It was just so like her to treat everything like it was a problem that needed to be solved.

Taking a deep breath, she continued. “First, you’re an idiot.” His eyes widen when she said that. “How can you possibly believe that everything will remain the same after you tell me that you’re in love with me? That’s impossible now that you’ve crossed our line of friendship! And what is this rubbish about you not being my best friend anymore? You’re stuck with me no matter what, do you hear?” She tried her best to glare at him but the slight color of her cheeks ruined the effect and made her look that much more endearing to him. He wanted to kiss her again.

“And another thing,” She sighed before lifting her left hand so that he could see. “I’m not married.” Harry was sure his heart stopped when he realized that there was no wedding band on her ring finger. She really wasn’t married. She was still Hermione Granger.

“But…how?” He asked, choking on so much hope that he swore that she could see the happiness in his countenance.

Hermione rolled her eyes in irritation. “Oh come off it Harry. It’s been all over the Daily Prophet for days. Everyone’s been talking about it, surely you’ve heard already.”

“I thought you got married.” Harry replied earnestly, moving closer to her. “I’ve avoiding reading the newspapers, tuned out other people’s conversation, even ignored most of my mail because I didn’t want to hear about how happy you were with him. I didn’t want to see the pictures of the wedding. I just wanted to pretend that it didn’t happen.”

“Sorry to tell you, but you’re efforts were in vain.” She replied, rubbing her temples. “There was no wedding, engagement’s been broken. All the talk you heard must’ve been those gossipers talking about what went wrong.”

“What happened?”

Hermione let out another sigh. “I told him that I was a witch. That’s what happened.” Anger bubbled in his veins. “He broke it off because of that?” Harry demanded. “No, it was the trust issue that he couldn’t handle.” Hermione replied. “He was shocked of course, to know that I was a witch and that Ron was a wizard as well as a few others, but that wasn’t why he called the whole thing off. He was hurt to think that I kept him in the dark about such a huge part of my life and it was understandable. It was stupid on my part to wait until the day before the wedding to tell him because it gave him so much doubt that he couldn’t handle it.”

She stared at the wall for a moment before continuing. “We’ve decided to keep in contact though. It was mutual that even after what had happened, we still wanted to stay friends. It took us a few days to apologize to the guests and we still had to pay for the food and decorations so we decided to just have a New Year’s Eve party with a wedding theme. I got back yesterday and Dumbledore wanted to speak with me about something so I came. You know the rest.”

He did. She came and then found him walking in the rain like some abandoned pup.

“I’m sorry.” Harry said. A derisive sound slipped past her lips and she locked eyes with him. “Don’t make a habit of lying to me Harry. I know you’re not sorry.”

Silence fell over them. Finally, he spoke. “You’re right. I’m not sorry.” How could he be? Fate had given him a second chance. His resolution flashed through his head. “If I had another chance, I swear I’ll tell her…I swear it.”

This was it.

Harry reached out and took her hands in his larger ones. “I’m not sorry that I have another chance not to mess things up again. You might not be ready to get another marriage proposal or anything at all but I want to be with you.” He pulled her closer and when she didn’t offer any resistance, he hugged her tightly. “I’m not sure I’ll be the best anything but I’ll try for you.” He told her softly. “If you’ll be with me, I promise that I’ll try my best not to mess anything up. I’ll do anything to keep you happy.”

“Harry,” She said. He felt her tentatively hug him back. “You need to stop thinking so little of yourself.”

“But it’s true.”

She pulled away and looked at him, taking in his green eyes dark with hope and love, his strong jaw and hopelessly messy hair. She took in all of his six foot self and she brought a hand up to touch his cheek gently, watching his eyes flutter shut behind his spectacles. “You are a great wizard Harry,” She told him softly but firmly. “And a fantastic person. When will you see that?”

He licked his dry lips. “If I am,” He replied hoarsely, opening his eyes. “It’s because you made me one.”

She flushed under his intense gaze and looked away. “Don’t sell yourself short Harry…we should go see Dumbledore now. We’ve kept him waiting long enough.”

Harry noticed that she hadn’t answered his unspoken question. He nodded anyway and together, they started walking to his office.

“Oh I almost forgot.” Hermione suddenly announced and walked over to the girl’s bathroom on the side of the wall where they had just been. She opened the door and a few students tumbled out, embarrassed at being discovered. “This is going to get out sooner or later so I won’t obliviate you all.” Hermione replied sternly. “However, I’ll be sure to tell your Headmaster that a few students from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor have been very rude to his guests.” She was satisfied when they went white with horror before dismissing them and watched as they hurried along, avoiding Harry altogether, too embarrassed to do anything else.

“H-how did you know..?” He asked her in wonder. She smiled at him. “This is Hogwarts Harry. It have troublemakers and gossipers everywhere. You should know that by now.” He shook his head in disbelief but grinned at her, causing her heart to warm at the happiness in his eyes.

“Are you really going to report them?”

Hermione winked at him. “No, I have to be fair and I just can’t find it in me to punish Gryffindor.”

“Why Miss Granger,” Harry replied, delighting in the fact that she was ‘Miss Granger’ and not ‘Mrs. Wickham’. “Are you showing favoritism?” She laughed in response.

They resumed their walk, the tense atmosphere all but dissipated as they chatted about the students and reminisced about old times. Some time during this, Harry took her hand in his and laced his fingers through hers.

He held his breath. The moment of truth.

Hermione squeezed his hand. “I’m not ready yet. Slowly okay?”

“Okay.” Harry nodded, heart bursting with pleasure. “I can wait.”

They stopped at the entrance and Harry said the password. The stone gargoyle jumped out of the way and revealed a staircase that led to the Headmaster’s office. Hermione turned and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Thank you for the dance Harry.” She flushed. He grinned so much that he was sure his face would split. “I knew you’d like it. Thank you for letting me be the one you danced with in the rain.”

She knew that her next words would most likely condemn her, but she said it anyway. “I always wanted it to be you.” Shy brown eyes met amused green eyes and both of them made their way up the stairs, still holding hands.

Dumbledore met them at the top, blue eyes twinkling knowingly.

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling in association with Scholastic Books, Warner Bros, etc.