Chapter 3: You just had to know, Harry
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the product of J.K. Rowling's imagination.
Author's Note: Because you guys were all so nice to review, here's another chapter! Anyway, I really appreciate the reviews, so please keep them coming! I'm sorry if I don't get to reply as often, but I don't want to spoil the story, lest I slip something! So keep on reading, and I hope you enjoy this!
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Sometimes he stays up all night to listen to the clock tick. From the ancient brass clock in a hotel room in Venice, to the minimalist silver clock in Tokyo, he listens to them all. Every second past means he's a second older. Every minute past means he's a minute closer to death. But when he's not feeling morbid or existential, he creates a symphony of ticks in his mind. The first few ticks are the first few bars in his piece, while the last few ticks fade away with his consciousness.
Tonight he's hearing the clock tick again. But he's not listening to it. Tonight, he is thinking about her. This is what usually keeps him up all night. Listening to the ticking sound does not happen often. Thinking of Hermione, on the other hand, does.
In Sofia, he hears a violin playing outside his building. He imagines her playing for him. In Shanghai he watches a Chinese opera on TV. He imagines her singing for him. In Rio he hears the samba in the room next to his. He imagines her dancing for him.
Tonight, however, he does not imagine.
Tonight he thinks about her. Really think about her. He does not put her in the goddess pedestal tonight. He thinks of her as she really is-and what she does to him. He still feels her fingers graze his jaw. He still feels her hand press his shoulder. He still hears her shallow breaths. He still feels the intensity of her concentration. And he thinks that she's too complex.
Tonight he conjures many answers to the question. She wants to practice. She wants to learn how to shave a man's beard off. She wants to learn everything in the world. She wants to shave his stubble off so that he won't hurt himself. Yet, he realizes, each answer he comes up with is weaker than the one before.
He decides to leave tomorrow-for the sake of his sanity.
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In his dreams, he hears whimsical noises. He hears the sound of birds chirping, the sound of a butterfly's flight, the sound of floating footsteps. In his dreams, he hears a creaking sound and a whisper. And more whispers. A lot of whispers. And a loud,
"Ow! Bloody mother-Ginny, you little twerp! That was my foot!"
Immediately, he sits up. He's no longer dreaming. Ron and Ginny are arguing. He's awake. Ron and Ginny stop arguing. He puts on his glasses. Ron and Ginny are staring at him. He smiles. Ron and Ginny smile back. He does not say anything. Ron and Ginny don't say anything-for a couple of seconds, until Ron bellows,
"Harry, you bloody bastard!"
"Ron! Your language!" he hears a dreamy voice call out from behind the door. Luna.
"Oh for heaven's sake! Did you wake him up?" Hermione.
"Ron did!" Ginny answers.
Harry does not know what to do. He wants to stand up and give them a hug. He wants to go back to bed and sleep. He wants to talk to all of them. He does not want to talk to anybody. He wants to see Hermione. And for the first time in his life, he does not want to see her either. But Ron decides for him. Immediately, he rushes toward him, gives him a light punch in his arm, and hugs him for a second.
"Good to see you mate!" he says, solemnly.
Harry pats his back.
"Harry! Why didn't you tell us?" Ginny asks as she too rushes towards him and hugs him. Harry just shrugs and smiles.
"Hey Harry, how was Hong Kong?" Luna asks as she too gives him a hug.
"Good morning, Harry," Hermione greets. Unlike the others, she's leaning against the open door. Harry gives her a smile. She smiles back.
"Harry, mate, why aren't you talking???" Ron asks.
Harry motions Ron to come closer. He does. He opens his mouth and breathes into Ron's nose.
"Oh bloody hell, Harry! That was disgusting! Brush your bloody teeth!" Ron roars amidst the loud "eews!' of the girls.
Hermione rolls her eyes.
"Do I have to repeat myself again? Your manners, Harry, are atrocious!" she says disapprovingly.
He gives a shrug. She smiles. He stands up and heads towards the door. She kisses his cheek. He makes his way to the bathroom. He touches his cheek.
He turns on the faucet. He wonders if she remembers last night. She acts like she doesn't.
He tells himself that he's overacting.
"It's nothing. She just wanted to learn how to shave. It does not mean anything." He mutters as he squishes the toothpaste.
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"So, how did you find out about me? Did Hermione tattle?" Harry asks as he piles on the pancakes.
"I did not!" Hermione retorts.
"Actually, if it weren't for Skeeter's boy toys, we wouldn't know!" Ron answers, in between bites. A slice of pancake comes out of his mouth. The girls all give him a look of disgust.
"What??? It's just a pancake!" Ron states. The girls all roll their eyes.
"What do you mean Skeeter's boy toys?" Harry asks with confusion as he spread the butter.
Hermione's nose twitches and she gives a look of annoyance. She grabs the Daily Prophet from the counter and gives it to him.
He opens it.
"Rita Skeeter is Satan's spawn and Voldemort's mother," Hermione mutters.
He stares at the front-page picture. Hermione and him at the Waterloo Station, hugging.
He reads the news, amidst the snickers of Ron, Ginny, and Luna.
He's Back!
A Daily Prophet Exclusive by Rita Skeeter
October 30-Four years after he left Britain, Harry Potter's back. Looking older in a camel coat and facial hair, Mr. Potter arrived at Waterloo Station yesterday afternoon. His best friend, Hermione Granger (fiancé of Quidditch champion, Viktor Krum) was there to greet his arrival. The initial contact was emotional. Teary hugs (see pictures, A2) were shared amidst the commotion and flock of people.
Mr. Potter's sudden arrival could be attributed to Ms. Granger's wedding tomorrow. There is still no word on whether he plans to stay after the wedding.
"I swear! I have no idea how she found out!" Hermione complains, with spite.
"Well, at least she didn't make you sound like a cheating scarlet woman!" Ron responds, cheekily. Hermione glares at him. Harry chokes on his orange juice.
"Are you OK, Harry?" Luna asks, looking at him curiously. He nods his head.
"But I'm still mad at the two of you! Why didn't you tell us?" Ginny asks.
"Well, I presumed that Harry wanted some peace before people found out he's here." Hermione answers, looking at him.
"Right, Harry?" she asks, clearly for support.
"Yeah, but we were planning on telling you this morning," he answers.
"Maybe because she doesn't want Viktor to know that Harry's staying at her place," Luna says in a trance-like voice.
Ron and Ginny turn to Hermione, who at the moment is blushing furiously. He looks at her curiously. Hermione takes a deep breath and purposely avoids his eyes.
"Well, OK, maybe that is also a reason," she says meekly.
"Why didn't you tell me, Hermione?" he finally asks, after an uncomfortable silence.
"Well, I wanted to spend time with you-before I get married. I was so happy when I found out that you were coming, and I made it a point to spend the two days before the wedding with you-"
"Oh! So that's why you suddenly stopped with your incessant bugging and craziness about the wedding!" Ginny says with a snap and a look of comprehension on her face.
"Well, yes, I didn't think you'd notice that though-"
"Won't notice that??? Are you insane??? Hermione, I had to ask Viktor to take you to Bulgaria for a vacation so that you'd stop bugging your supposed `wedding coordinator' about the wedding!"
"ANYWAY-" Ron cuts in, "it's over, so let's leave it at that, and just question Harry about the last four years of his life."
"So, mate, did you get laid those four years because I have!"
"Ronald, you are so not getting some tonight!" Luna retorts with an amazingly steely voice. Ron turns red, but goes,
"Well?"
Harry feels his cheeks go unabashedly warm. He looks at Hermione, but her emotions are undecipherable. Suddenly, he is in an internal struggle on how to approach Ron's question. I did get laid, but I was drunk and miserable those times, he tells himself.
"Well, I'll take that as a yes," Ron finally says. All the girls giggle. Even Hermione. He gives a sigh, shrugs, and says,
"I have needs."
Everyone in the room erupts with laughter.
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"What are you going to tell Viktor?" he finally asks her as they wash the dishes.
"Well, I'll tell him the truth," she answers as she rinses a glass.
"What truth?"
"That you wanted peace-"
"Did I tell you I wanted peace?"
"-and that I want to spend time with you without anyone knowing or else chaos will ensue," she finishes, ignoring his last statement.
"Do you mean that?" he asks quietly.
She puts the plate that she's rinsing down and turns to face him. She looks at him straight in the eye, and answers,
"Yes, Harry. I mean that. I want to spend time with you. If that wasn't true then I'd be going crazy with the wedding right now. You know me, Harry."
He breaks into a smile. But his insides are churning. The wedding. Tomorrow.
"Are you excited about the wedding?" he asks.
You just had to know Potter.
Out of nowhere, she hugs him, soapy hands, and all.
"Excited is not the word Harry. It's happy. I'm happy Harry. I'm happy because someone actually acknowledges me and finds me worthy of marriage. I'm happy because someone actually looks pass my brains. I'm happy because someone tells me I'm beautiful when I'm sad. I'm happy because someone whispers `I love you' to me. But most of all, I'm happy because you're here. Making my wedding special."
He feels like dying. This is torture, he thinks. He regrets the fact that he doesn't tell her she's beautiful. He regrets the fact that he doesn't tell her that she's worthy and that she's everything to him. He regrets the fact that she doesn't know he loves her. He loves her, he loves her, he loves her. This is why he's punishing himself. This is why he asks her these questions. This is why he's here, in front of her, listening to the things Krum makes her feel.
"I'm happy too, Hermione," is all he says.
She lets go of him and gives him a smile. They continue washing the dishes.
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