Never Normal

dream_boat

Rating: PG
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 14/03/2005
Last Updated: 14/03/2005
Status: completed

Voldemort has been defeated, but where is Harry? [Could probably pass for 'G' but you never know who's going to bite your head off about a kiss. Short, cute, enjoy!]

Chapters

1. Never Normal

1. Never Normal

NOTE: JK ROWLING owns all of the characters in this story. (Lucky her!)

Also: Well, this is pretty much my ideal H/Hr situation. Unfortunately, not including the smut. However, those of you who have read my stories know how dreadful my smut is and therefore will understand how skewed the ending would be if I were to add that extra little bit. But I find solace in knowing that Rowling would never go that far in her books, so perhaps I won't be too far off the beaten path. Sorry it's short!

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Through the darkness, he crept quietly. He made his way toward her bedside and stood. She was lovelier than he remembered. Perhaps it was the calmness of sleep that helped to soften her features from that of worry and exhaust, which he remembered more recently, to that of peacefulness. The lines of concern weren't evident as she lay curled in her bed sheets, he head pressed softly against her pillow. Bending over slightly, he brushed a hand through her unruly hair; which was made even more untidy from the fitful sleep she was enduring. His slight touch was enough to stir her from her shallow realms of slumber. She rolled comfortably in her sleep, facing him more directly. Her eyelids began to flutter and Harry had the fleeting urge to run, to leave. But he remained, anchored firmly to the wooden floorboards beneath his feet.

It had been two weeks since the Dark Lord's defeat, and nobody in the magical world had seen Harry since that rainy night. News of Voldemort's defeat had spread rapidly, along with that of Harry's disappearance. For some reason, he hadn't been able to bring himself to face the rest of the world; the world he had saved. He had fled from the prying eyes to a run down hiding place, where he had forced himself to face old demons; along with new, unexplored realizations.

Sitting up slowly, Hermione rubbed her eyes and disbelievingly raked her eyes over his frail frame. He knew he must appear to her as one of the living dead and worried he might frighten her. However, as he sat beside he on the bad, she reached a weary hand our and placed it gently on his cheek. He moved his hand to cover hers and forced a smile.

“Harry?” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep.

“Yes,” he replied shakily, “it's me.”

“Oh Harry,” she cried softly, flinging her arms around his neck. She sobbed softly into his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “You're alive,” she sniveled quietly.

“Of course I am,” he spoke, pushing her away from him to look at her face. He was alarmed by the amount of tears streaking down her soft cheeks.

“I thought…I mean…we didn't know whether….”

“Everything's okay, Hermione, I'm here.” He drew her into his arms once more and breathed in deeply, taking in her dreamy scent. Suddenly, she pushed him from her and gave him the look which he had been expecting, “Harry, where were you? I haven't been able to sleep, I've been worried so sick!” Harry was reminded of a look Mrs. Weasley had worn one morning upon arriving at the Burrow in a flying Ford Anglia.

“I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just…I-I needed to be alone.”

Her face softened immediately, and she took his hands in her own, warmer ones. She smiled at him as she swept her hand quickly through his disheveled raven hair. She then scooted herself over in the small bed and pulled back the corner of the bed sheets, patting the mattress beside her, beckoning him.

He stood and pulled off his windswept cloak. Kicking off his shoes, he crawled under the sheets into the warmth of Hermione's bunk. They lay side by side quietly before Harry spoke, “How is everyone?”

“They're all doing fine. A few minor injuries here and there, but nothing drastic,” she paused for a moment, “except Dumbledore…”

“I heard.”

They were silent once again. Harry's mind raced for some way to explain his absence. It was Hermione who spoke first, “I know you probably have your reasons Harry, but we needed you here….I needed you.”

“I know.” The air was still, and then Harry spoke again, questioningly, “You needed me?”

Hermione rolled to face him, “Yes. I needed you Harry. I've been taking potions to help me sleep since you've been gone. I couldn't sleep otherwise. I've had the worst nightmares…I've been worried so much Harry,” he voice trembled as she spoke. Harry saw that her lips quivered with each word. He heaved a deep breath and shifted his eyes back to the ceiling.

“I feel empty.”

“Harry?”

“Like I'm not really here. Like I'm hollow or something.”

Hermione remained quiet, waiting, letting him take his time. She had always been an excellent listening. The only person who had always really listened to him. Who had really heard him.

“I know I should be happy,” he began, “Voldemort's gone. But I just can't seem to wrap my mind around it all. For eleven years I was a normal little boy…well, so I thought. The thing is, even though the Dursleys were horrible, I didn't know any different. So it was always normal to me. I thought that's just how Aunts and Uncles were. So I felt normal.”

He felt Hermione sigh beside him and she draped a slender arm over his chest.

“Well, you and I both know how good it felt to get those letters. I had felt so misplaced for so long and it all suddenly became clear when I found out I was a wizard. For the first time, I finally felt as though I was a part of something bigger, greater. Hogwarts soon became my home, but at a cost; Voldemort. Every year, it seemed, I was battling for my life against my parents' murderer.

Then, suddenly in fifth year…it wasn't just about me anymore. After that night in the Department or Mysteries, I wasn't just fighting for my life. It was about the entire world, magical or not. It was so much…too much,” a long, shuddering breath escaped him.

“My whole life since I was eleven has been something less than normal. And now, suddenly, there's nothing. I feel nothing.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said softly, sitting up to look down at him, “you're wrong. You have so much more than you think. We all care about you Harry. Hagrid, Ron and the Weasleys, Lupin, Moody and…” she trailed off.

“You?” he asked, trying to disguise the hope in his voice. He had known it for some time now, he loved Hermione Granger. Truthfully, it had all started that night in the Department of Mysteries. Friendship was all their relationship had ever been before that night. But upon arriving back to Privet Drive the summer after their fifth year, after the prophecy had settled in, feelings of that night resurfaced in his dreams. Always, it was Sirius and the Veil, Ron and the Brains…and her. Always, her. Every night, he watched helplessly in his dreams as her listless body slumped to the floor following Dolohov's devastating curse.

Of course, he had become much more protective of his Hermione after that. However, his mind had never wandered quite so far as to see Hermione as anything more than a friend until a specific rainy night two weeks ago. It was then that Harry realized just how much his best friend meant to him. It was then that Harry had defeated Voldemort, with Hermione in his heart.

“Yes,” her voice wavered, “and me.”

Sitting up to face his friend, he placed a hand on her waist and looked deeply into her eyes; searching for feelings to match his own. As if having a mind of their own, his lips spoke what his mind was thinking, “So beautiful.” A visible tremor shook through Hermione and she shifted her eyes away from Harry's. He watched as they filled with tears and finally spilled over their puffy brims, coursing gently down her face. He reached out to wipe the tears away, dragging the pad of his thumb over her features to erase the glistening stains.

Slowly, almost as if in slow motion, she leaned forward and brought her lips to his. Holding her face in his hand, Harry kissed back with his entire being; moving his lips over hers with such urgency and passion that soon their lips parted, gasping for breath. Hermione bent forward once again and pressed her forehead gingerly against his. Harry searched her face; her eyes were closed and unreadable, but soon her lips formed themselves into the most beautiful smile Harry had ever seen. He lifted his forehead from hers and kissed her again. He felt her smile against his lips and knew that normal would never be an option with Hermione Granger in his arms, and that's just the way he wanted it…

Das Ende

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