A/N: Many, many thanks for the reviews and for the warm welcome - I was quite apprehensive as I have been a closet writer and haven't really had the courage to post something up. But thank you again, for all your comments - all duly noted!
Regarding more updates, I am giving the 2nd chapter now - it might be a week before I can get the third up, there are some plot issues that I am trying to resolve *wink*
Thank you again! And hope you enjoy this instalment!
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Of course keeping in nature with the general cussedness of things in general, Hermione would feel that the last thing she wanted was to see Harry again. She paced in her office feverishly thinking about the bombshell Ron had dropped without ceremony, the previous afternoon.
Harry Potter was coming back.
After 5 months.
When he had promised to be back in two months.
Well actually no, Hermione relented. He really hadn't made any such promise, only vowed to come as soon as he could and as soon as he was able. It was she who had stipulated that he had come back in two months. He had smiled ruefully with that trademark megawatt grin that never failed to make her forget where she was and had softly kissed her forehead murmuring that he would try and that all the forces couldn't keep him away from Scotland and home.
Scotland. Hermione let her forehead rest against her arms as she collapsed in near exhaustion at her desk, her legs screaming in relief. Scotland had become home for all, she mused. The war as hateful and grotesque as it had been, had also served to make the bonds of friendship and love deeper and tighter than ever and people had been sharply alerted to the fact that life, fragile and fleeting could slip from their grasp in the next minute, hour, day, week, month or year.
Everybody had scrambled to make a concerted effort to live close by. Reassurance and comfort, provided unconditionally was what had made all of them persevere and Hermione knew without all of them looking out for each of other, the dark ages would still loom over like a gloomy spectre and threaten the slightest glimmer of happiness.
It was also odd to see people marrying at such a young age. While Ron was nearing his twentieth birthday, Fred and George already twenty-two had nearly given Molly and Arthur Weasley a heart attack by announcing their engagement to Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, respectively. A small chuckle escaped Hermione's lips as she recalled the pasty white shade that Molly had turned - she'd been so convinced that her wayward twin sons would be the last to settle down.
It wasn't just them though. Everybody seemed to have a significant other to lean on, except her. She gave a hollow laugh that the walls of her office seemed to throw back at her. And she couldn't blame anyone either. As much as she was in love with Harry, life didn't stipulate that he absolutely had to love her back. 'I'm going crazy. Any minute now, I am going to see him and then I am going to blurt something absolutely stupid and spectacularly idiotic and then Ron wont stop teasing me and Harry will never want to see me again and-..'
'Hermione Jane Granger!'
Hermione turned to see Luna's blonde locks peeking through the door and her blue eyes laughing joyously. 'He will be here any minute, Hermione! Come on! We are all in the Hall!'
Hermione's heart thudded loudly in her chest and she distinctly felt the sweat coat her hands. Torn between disgust for such a forceful reaction to merely his impending presence and rapture at actually and finally seeing him, she felt as if she were on an emotional rollercoaster and grabbed the edge of her desk.
Luna's eyes morphed into a concerned turquoise as she saw Hermione shakily sit on the singular armchair. She hurried over to her, 'Hermione...Good Lord, you are pale and sweaty. Are you alright?!'
Hermione vigorously shook her head in protest but found herself clutching at Luna with panicked hands, 'I'm fine, Luna, really I am. Oh God no! No, I am not. Luna, what do I say? What if he doesn't like what I have done with the Maruaders? What if he hates some of the things I have introduced? I should have told him, sent an owl…oh, and my hair is acting up again and I know he thinks I'll nag -..'
Luna stared, dumbfounded. Finding her voice, she tried to interrupt edgewise and finally took out her wand, training it on the other occupant of the room, now adding hand-wringing and sweat on her forehead to her already hyperventilating self.
'Silencio!'
If Hermione had not been so deathly pale, Luna would have had a hearty laugh. She looked surprised and then started to angrily gesture. Luna smiled and clutched Hermione's trembling hands. 'Oh Hermione, he'll love everything you've done with the school.' When Hermione still looked at her dubiously, she pressed on, 'because it's you, silly. In Harry's eyes, the chances of you doing anything wrong are about on par with Snape actually liking him.'
Hermione rolled her eyes at Luna's analogy but then frowned and insistently pointed at her non-existent lips. Luna's eyes gleamed but she forced a stern expression, 'No, not until you promise that you will pull yourself together, right now.' She held up a hand to stave off the inevitable protest and continued, 'It's Harry. Your best friend. You needn't be anything but yourself for him. That's all he would ever want.' She finished softly tapping her wand against Hermione's face. She stood up and inclined her head towards the door. 'Come on Hermione and don't be worried. And it's about time you tell him when he gets back.' She finished, smiling slyly.
Hermione gaped at her effecting an affronted expression but then sniffed disdainfully and sailed past her with Luna laughing silently to herself and following behind.
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The Hall was looking fantastic.
No, beyond that. It was splendidly breathtaking.
She gulped silently forcing herself to move towards the small group huddling and whispering excitedly a little behind the doors. Ron was the first to notice her and he grabbed her into an impromptu waltz twirling her madly around to hideously loud and off-tune chants of 'Harry's coming home today, home today, home today! Harry's coming home today, home today, home today!'
Hermione's flushed face and breathless shrieks of protest echoed through the hall and all its occupants turned towards the friends now engaged in a mad spin or rather Hermione trying with little success to disentangle herself from Ron's less than graceful display of dancing skills. Laughter and hooting floated through the air to the group near the doors where Luna and Ginny were hanging onto each other with tears of mirth streaming down their faces. Ginny leaned over and whispered, 'Gods, it just isn't the same without Harry, is it? I'm so glad he's finally coming back.'
Luna nodded, valiantly trying to restrain the tears of relief hiding beneath her joy. 'It certainly isn't Gin. I've missed him so much and the Trio just isn't the same as well. I mean we are all close friends now but Ron, Hermione and Harry would never be the same if anything happened to any one of them.'
Ginny placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and was about to reply when a roar arose from the throng of students swarming the gates to the Mansion. She was dimly aware of an answering one from Ron, a rapturous cry from Luna and Hermione and giggled as she caught sight of even stern, schoolmistress-faced, bespectacled McGonagall trying to keep up her waspish front and avoid bursting full-speed towards the grounds.
However, it wasn't necessary for any one to move.
For in the doorway, stood the object of all their affections and musings.
The lightning bolt scar was a dull red but was still healing itself. Blue jeans, a thick polo neck sweatshirt and a knee length coat, both black completed his muggle ensemble while a dilapidated but curiously bulging backpack lay slung over his right shoulder. He looked much older than his nearly twenty years, and the chiselled lines of his face spoke of an old soul scarred and bruised by frequent brushes with death in its numerous and grotesque forms. Hermione let her eyes travel in unconcealed anguish and wonder over his lanky frame, and held her breath as he began to advance with cat-like grace and measured, precise steps. She shuddered as she imagined how his lithe figure could easily creep up on someone unawares and how adeptly he could melt into shadows. His gait radiated confidence, poise and self-assuredness.
A shiver raced down her spine, an intense tingle settled in her toes and fingertips.
For a moment, she was forcibly reminded of the very moment she had first seen him after his defeat of Voldemort. She, Ron and the rest of the DA had been furiously battling with Death Eaters just outside the majestic gates of Hogwarts but Harry and Voldemort had taken their own sixteen year old battle into the depths of the Forbidden Forest. No one knew what had happened in there and Harry had offered no answers. All they knew was that an unearthly howl of unimaginable agony and pain-wracked sobs had rendered the air for a continuous ten unbearable minutes and the very earth had begun to shake. For the first time, the trees of the Forbidden Forest swayed violently under the sheer magical aura that was pulsing from within. Hermione full of terror at the mere thought that any of that pain could have come from Harry, had raced to Dumbledore's side ready to beg, curse, plead, cajole, threaten or hex him into helping or allowing her to help.
Dumbledore had turned serious eyes upon her sadly and worriedly. An impenetrable shield had been struck all around the forest and not by him, preventing any possible entry or exit, even from any wizard as powerful as himself. Hermione desperately fought back a wave of nausea and overwhelming horror determined to engulf her as she realised what Harry had done.
He had put up the barrier. One that even Dumbledore couldn't break through. This was Harry's fight to the finish. Either he or Voldemort would come out at the end.
She absolutely refused to consider that perhaps no one would. She just wouldn't accept that she could lose Harry. No. That wasn't an option at all. Most certainly not.
She was just about to make a mad and hopeless charge against the barrier when a sudden deathly silence fell over the grounds. Fervent thankfulness over the cessation of the inhuman wailing morphed into painful knots of tension, as the Light and Dark alike stopped mid-battle and looked towards the plumes of dark smoke pouring copiously out of the forest. Hermione thought she distinctly made out a shiny rip, pulsing and twisting in the sky above the forest but the image was gone as quickly as she had imagined it and she rubbed her eyes tiredly.
Then the smoke cleared. Hermione felt her throat constrict and go dry as she was able to make out a hazy outline of a figure slumped at the shoulders and head bent down. Her heart pounded furiously and sweat slid down her figures in rivulets as the first signs of a tired but undeniably victorious Harry James Potter became visible to all.
Nobody spoke. The silence was deafening as the Death Eaters and the Light stared in stunned disbelief, albeit for opposite reasons. Harry had the sword of Godric Gryffindor held over his right shoulder and was clutching a bundle of robes in his left arm. Fawkes was perched on his shoulder.
He was slowly but steadily making his way towards Dumbledore who was watching him with nothing short of pride and unconcealed, unabashed love. As Harry passed Hermione, he turned to wink tiredly at her and Hermione couldn't conceal a strangled gasp.
Good Lord, Harry. What happened in there?
His scar was a fierce red and it was open with the blood flowing freely down the right side of his face. His hair was matted with what looked like a mixture of dirt, mud and dried cakes of blood. More blood trickled down out of the left corner of his mouth in an obscenely uniform fashion and his hands appeared singed with horrific burns. His robes were in tatters, his lips were chapped and cracked, gray shadows ringed his eyes but oh Merlin! She had never seen them blaze to this intensity. For the first time ever Hermione closed her eyes and tried to calm herself as she tried to assimilate the true extent of his sheer magical prowess. How could his eyes glow so vividly? It was almost as if Lily's love and sacrifice for Harry was physically tangible at that moment. Hermione instinctively knew that Harry had seen his parents inside the forest. They had somehow assisted in Voldemort's defeat. But she wouldn't know anything for a while yet.
A long while. Not until he had healed. Not until the fires had cooled, the scars soothed and the shards of his heart and spirit brought back together.
Harry had reached Dumbledore by now and she saw him wordlessly drop the bundle of robes at his feet. From inside his left pocket, he withdrew a wand, snapped it in two and proceeded to drop the two halves on the bundle. Hermione held up a hand to her mouth to stop the nausea creeping up again. He had brought Voldemort's robes and wand as proof. He had done it. He had finally done it.
He had fulfilled his destiny. But how?
That would be something she could find out later. Harry had just collapsed in Dumbledore's arms and Hermione found herself at his side not a second later, hugging him as if attempting to will the life and love back into him through her warm touch and loving caresses.
It would be only after two whole days that Dumbledore would inform her that she had apparated over to his side without knowing it and without having ever gone through a single lesson. Such was the strength of her conviction and intensity of her love.
As she looked at Harry still slowly making his way down the hall towards the centre, Hermione closed her eyes and took a steadying breath, aware that the very same intensity burned today. It hadn't dimmed one wit.
And she was going to be in big trouble if Harry continued to stare at her with those emerald beauties that should be made illegal.
Ron apparently was untroubled by any such observation and also wasn't on memory lane as he shoved her unceremoniously to the side and launched himself at Harry with another resounding roar.
The two friends - no, brothers - stared at each other until Ron felt the unshed tears in his eyes begin to traverse his cheeks. 'You dumb, bloody prat' was all he could manage before he threw his arms around him, letting the tears flow freely and sobbing into his shoulder while managing to speak at the same time. 'You prat…why were you gone so long…I was angry when I got your owl yesterday, couldn't have relaxed at home, could you….do you have any idea how much we missed you so?'
He felt Harry's tears wet his neck in turn and pulled back to see Harry flashing a trademark lopsided grin at him that had signalled the beginning of yet another Invisibility Cloak adventure back in their Hogwarts days. Harry was gripping Ron's forearms tightly and nodding back at him, 'God...I'm so sorry but I had to go and oh Ron, I missed you so much as well.' Then, in an afterthought as a wider grin split his face, 'especially whenever I ate anything delicious. You and your fearsome appetite were never far from my thoughts.'
Ron snorted and then clapped him on the back, unaware that the entire hall was rejoicing in the devotion between the two boys. He then turned around and was surprised to find Hermione still standing stiff and seemingly frozen away from them. He frowned, 'I would have thought that she would have knocked me over to reach him first.' The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile and he backed away looking at Harry pointedly and then inclining his head with a wry smile towards Hermione.
Harry looked at her and the grin turned up a notch to blindingly radiant. He silently opened his arms, beckoning her to him wordlessly and that was all Hermione needed.
Her feet must have touched the ground at some point, she was certain. Otherwise how would she now be so tightly encased within his arms, inhaling the scent of something mysteriously and yet so indefinably him? She clasped her arms tighter around his waist and pushed her face into his chest. He wasn't as tall as Ron but he was tall enough to tuck her head under his chin and she couldn't stop the sob escaping her mouth as she felt Harry press a soft comforting kiss on her hairline and squeeze her tightly. He pulled back and cradled her face within his hands. 'Come on now, Hermione. No more tears. I told you I'd be back, and here I am.' He tapped the side of her nose with a callused finger.
Hermione sniffed, aware that her face must be ridiculously red and puffy from intermittent bouts of violent sobbing and that her cheek would bear the imprints of the buttons from Harry's coat where she had pressed her face into. 'I'm sorry. I know you were expecting a happier welcome and here I am just sobbing on you, but I have worried about you for eight years and I can't just stop-..' Harry placed a finger on her lips and exchanged a grin with Ron who was rolling his eyes but smiling tenderly at his best friend's teary outburst. Harry removed one arm from Hermione and held it out to Ron, who stepped into their three way embrace.
'Hermione', he whispered planting another kiss on her head, 'You are here and you are safe. And so is Ron. The fact that you guys care and the fact that you guys are my best friends means the world to me.' He playfully stuck his tongue at her, 'I would be quite miffed to find my unexpected arrival had no effect on you at all.' Hermione thwapped his shoulder in retaliation and giggled as she found herself buried in a bear hug between Harry and Ron.
She sighed contentedly and deeply inhaled Harry's fragrance again. He was back and she would be damned to hell before she let him out of her sight ever again.