The Last Kefsen by Jardyn39
Chapter 24: Blindingly Obvious
Harry placed the enormous picnic basket down onto the dry midday grass. Dobby had absolutely insisted that, even though he only needed lunch for two, Harry had to take full provisions. Harry had drawn the line at Dobby's request to actually serve them lunch, pointing out that Winky might like some company for Saturday lunch as well.
Hermione spread the warm waterproof ground sheet out as Harry went over to Jen's grave.
As he approached he felt some of the anguish and torment he'd been feeling ease. Indeed, he had felt a little better from the moment they'd entered the forest a few minutes ago. He was still so very tired, and his scar burned, but at least he felt something better.
He couldn't really explain why this was, but it was almost like a little optimism appeared within him.
Even though she had not been buried long, the forest had quickly claimed Jen. Her grave was now covered in a thick arrangement of blooming flowers. Harry had thought that this might be Dumbledore's doing, but he had insisted that other than the bench seat and the headstone, everything else was her very own considerable magic. It was as if the forest had welcomed her back.
Harry felt Hermione's hand clasp his and they stood still there in silence for a long moment.
"Jen made me promise I would tell you," began Harry. "I didn't because I was scared how you would react. I still am, to be honest."
Hermione sniffed and Harry glanced sideways to see a solitary tear fall down her cheek.
"Hey," he said gently, turning to her.
Hermione wound her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Harry wrapped his arms around her and gently bowed his head. Hermione shifted her head slightly and they stayed cheek to cheek for a while.
"You okay?" he whispered.
Hermione nodded and asked, "Tell me some more about Jen."
"Actually," he began, stroking her back gently, "she kept wanting me to tell her more about you. The portrait was a bit of a give-away, you see."
"Portrait?"
"Yes, the one in my library during our coma. One wall was covered in paintings of all those that are important to me. They were all different sizes and their frames kept jostling around to get a better position. The biggest portrait, the one right in the centre of the wall over the fireplace, was of you."
Harry paused for a moment, half afraid Hermione was going to kick him or something.
"Go on," she prompted. "I'm still listening."
"Right. She kept nagging me to speak to you. It was quite disconcerting, her looking and sounding just like you and having a go at me for not facing up to how I felt."
Hermione snorted.
"Yeah," agreed Harry gently, "Jen thought I was being stupid as well, but it was only when I saw you back here for real, that I fully realised just how far I'd repressed my feelings. On the one hand I wanted, no," he corrected himself, "needed you to feel the same way but at the same time I was terrified about what would happen if you did."
"Nothing's simple with you, is it, Harry?"
Harry had no idea what to say to that. Thankfully, Hermione continued.
"Well, today we're standing in an enchanted clearing, protected from anything harmful that might be wandering through the forest. I also happen to know that anyone, other than Hagrid and Dumbledore, following the path here will just find themselves back at the forest edge again. There's no need to repress any feelings and nothing to be terrified about."
"Except you," quipped Harry.
"No, Harry," Hermione said repressing a laugh. "I'm not going to make you say anything before you're ready. Just enjoy the day."
Hermione shifted slightly and Harry looked down to see Hermione looking up at him.
He felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes.
"Is it so bad?" she asked in a whisper.
Harry couldn't speak. He just nodded.
"Tell me," she commanded.
Harry nodded and sighed as Hermione rested her head back against his chest, waiting for him to speak.
"Jen saw something in me. Something dark. She speculated at first that I might have a second soul inside me. She thought it might have protected me."
"What are you saying, Harry?"
"It's him, or part of him. Voldemort. Jen thought that when he attacked me, his spirit got torn in two. What escaped was just his intellect or something unfeeling anyway. The rest found its way into me, somehow."
"I suppose that might explain how you are linked," said Hermione casually.
"Hermione, this is serious," he said earnestly. "Dumbledore has let me try some pretty dark magic this year, against his better judgement. I've got more than a knack for them. Sometimes I feel I'm descending into something evil, that I'll loose control."
"Harry, think about this. Dumbledore is more than capable of the darkest spells you've been able to do, isn't he? I don't believe that Dumbledore would descend to evil any more than I believe you could. It's how you apply your knowledge that counts."
"He hinted that he's been tempted though."
"He's human, just like you. He can be tempted, but I think he resisted. So can you. I remember you declaring you would never turn to the Dark Side. Have you changed your mind?"
"No, of course not," said Harry indignantly. "I'm afraid I won't have a choice."
"You'll always have a choice, Harry. Okay, those choices may not be easy, but you are free to make them."
"Really? I wonder sometimes."
"Don't," she said emphatically. Harry decided not to argue.
After a moment, Harry continued.
"Jen thought that it all this started because of the link between myself and Voldemort. First of all, something inside me reached out and attacked her. Instead of dying immediately, Jen got split as well and joined with me. I wondered for a while if maybe Voldemort and I were in a coma as well, although I don't remember anything. I've no idea what happened to his body.
"Jen joked that dying in such a unique way would be a fitting end for the last of her people. She knew she was the last of her kind. I think that's why she was such a prize when she was captured, all those years ago.
"Anyway, Jen was changed. She became you, or rather, my memories and feelings of you. She might have changed how she looked sometimes, but she always remained you inside. As she got to know the real you better, it became difficult for me to tell you apart. The only difference was the pain. I always felt the pain of her injuries."
They stood together for a moment before Hermione said, "Come on, let's have something to eat."
She gently pulled herself away and grabbing Harry's hand pulled him over to the groundsheet and hamper.
Harry undid the basket buckles but was distracted as Hermione said, "I'm so glad the weather has improved. I was getting fed up of the cold and rain."
What particularly distracted Harry was Hermione's tee shirt riding dangerously high as he pulled her woolly jumper off over her head. He quickly busied himself with the hamper, wishing he could control his blushing.
Harry lifted out the salad boxes and placed them on the groundsheet. Hermione was brushing her hair back with her fingers and apparently hadn't noticed her top wasn't quite down yet, a wide expanse of flesh still exposed.
"Um, Hermione," began Harry going very red and pointing at her midriff. "Your top, is er."
Hermione looked at him quite bemused for a moment before looking down, clearing wondering what the problem was.
She smiled realising the source of his embarrassment.
"What, you don't like this top?"
"No, not at all. I didn't mean. I just wanted you to know."
Harry couldn't face her but knew she was grinning at him.
"Well, if it's not the top it must be me that's so objectionable."
"You know what I meant," he replied, still not looking at her.
"I'm not too keen on this old thing either, actually."
The tee shirt landed on Harry's head. He wasn't sure if he dared look.
Hermione was laughing at him, sitting quite respectably in some kind of gym top.
"You did that on purpose," accused Harry, removing the still warm top from his head and throwing it back to her.
"Me?" she asked with false surprise.
"You'd better not ask me what I think of the rest of your outfit."
"Is that a dare?" she asked mischievously pretending to pull off her remaining top.
"NO," shouted Harry, suddenly very angrily. "I'm sorry," he added shakily.
Hermione immediately scooted over to him and put her arms around his neck.
"Shh," she said gently. "It's okay, but I think it's about time you told me the truth. I'm sorry I provoked you."
Harry shook his head, his arms wrapped around her.
"Harry, it's okay to have these feelings. It doesn't mean you're evil. Hormonal, maybe, but not evil."
"You don't understand. It's the dreams. You have no idea what he makes me watch. Ever since Jen died and our connection was lost. The Occlumency is still working but it's like part of me is still reaching out to him. I'm not sure if I'm seeing just his dreams or if it's real. It's a never ending stream of sadistic images. The worst thing is that I can feel what he's feeling."
"I thought it might be something like this," Hermione said sympathetically. "I used to catch you looking at me all the time, but you stopped."
"I was scared I was becoming something evil."
"No, Harry. I do have a solution, if you're interested. Blindingly obvious, actually."
"Really? What is it?"
"Your connection with Jen was strong enough to distract you from reaching out to Voldemort. I'm not sure if that's what is really happening, but it makes no difference. You just need to forge another, that's all."
"How?"
Hermione sighed in a way Harry knew he was missing something obvious again.
She brought her lips to his and kissed him, pushing him onto his back and not letting go.
*
It was almost dusk before they actually spoke another word. Both of them had dozed a little in the warm afternoon sun, the picnic food long forgotten.
Harry woke from the first peaceful sleep he'd had for ages. Curled up next to him was Hermione.
He stroked her bare arm that rested across his chest and she stirred with a little shiver. It was getting cooler now.
Harry tugged at the ground sheet and wrapped both sides around them both. They would stay just a little longer.
"I'm still annoyed with you," Hermione said playfully.
Harry considered for a moment and then replied, "Could you narrow the reasons down for me."
Hermione snorted and then wriggled about to get comfortable again.
"I'm not sure where to begin," she said eventually. "Firstly, you should have come and told me everything. Jen may have looked and sounded like me, but she wasn't me."
"I know," said Harry. "Jen said that I assumed she had your knowledge and feelings even though she kept telling me she didn't. I made her promise not to tell anyone. Because she knew everything, I didn't think it was safe to give her any exceptions."
"I kept on asking her. Unfortunately, she kept her word."
"Of course she did," said Harry with a smile. "She became you."
"Well, it was my mistake not to confront you months ago," said Hermione. "I was just scared I'd just push you away. For a long time, I thought I had."
"Not possible," whispered Harry.
"Part of me hoped you were trying to tell me something with that trunk. From your reaction when we met-"
"I said I was sorry about that!" interrupted Harry. "Ow!" he said after being pinched by Hermione. "What was that for?"
"Harry, pay attention," she said laughing. "Where was I?"
"Um, from my reaction."
"Thanks," she continued, relaxing back against him. "From your reaction I knew you hadn't actually planned for our fourth compartments to be linked. Of course, that would have been too much to hope for. Jen kind of explained what happened when I showed her around the bathroom. I was trying to get her to tell me why you hadn't even tried to get back in again. Actually, she managed to get more information out of me, than I of her."
Hermione paused before prompting, "So? Why didn't you?"
"Sorry, I was waiting for another pinch," admitted Harry. "I didn't think you would want anyone to wander in while you were having a bath. I'd have given you my key except my trunk only has the one."
Hermione groaned.
"Harry, remember the trunk rules. You told us, no-one can enter without the owner's consent. If I didn't want you to enter, you could never have got in. The mere fact that your key turned should have told you that."
"Oh," said Harry.
"And no, Harry, I would not like anyone to wander in," continued Hermione. "You are not just anyone to me, Harry, and I do wish you'd try and remember that."
"I'll try," he said, gently kissing her forehead. "Not that I believe you'd really want me to visit again on a bath night."
"I just wanted you to relax and talk to me. As for visiting again, you'll just have to see if that key ever works again, won't you? Incidentally, Jen picked out all your favourite shampoo and bubble bath scents, and I have plenty."
"So what was with all the furniture in the Room of Requirement?"
Hermione's head shot up.
"I'm kidding!" pleaded Harry, divided between laughing and defending himself.
Hermione smiled and rested her head back down.
"That was a bit embarrassing," she admitted.
"I thought I'd better be polite and not mention anything at the time."
"Sure, Harry, like you even noticed."
"Well, maybe not immediately," he admitted. "To be honest, I thought the Room was just giving us what I really wanted."
After a moment, Harry asked, "Hermione, what form did Jen take when she visited you? I assume you were alone?"
"Yes, Jen is the only person I've shown the bathroom to," said Hermione. "Jen adopted her true form," she said carefully.
"Her arachnid form?"
"No, her natural form. She was really quite beautiful. It took quite a lot out of her, I think."
"I wish I could have seen her," mused Harry. "She always wanted to take your form around me."
"She was very much in love with you, Harry. She said she loved the look you gave her before you made up your mind which of us she was."
"I must have seemed very cold. Unfortunately, she knew my heart was taken."
They were quite for a long while.
Suddenly, Harry remembered something.
"You never caught me looking at you, not once. I'm an expert."
Hermione laughed, kissed him briefly and then proceeded to give surprisingly accurate dates and times.
Harry naturally insisted that Hermione had missed well over half, although he wasn't entirely sure that she believed him.
END