Not Really Goodbye

A/N: Greetings all. Taking a bit of a break from the MLS universe, to post a plot bunny that attacked me one day and I had to fight back. It’s nothing much, just a bit of mindless H/Hr fluff and perhaps a bit of angst at the beginning.

And even though she didn’t want me to, I must thank Bittersweet8186 for getting me over the hump when I was stuck with it, and to my MLS Partner-in-Crime and beta on this, H_HrFan. HUGS to you both!! Feedback is always welcome. Hope you enjoy this one.

Disclaimer…I keep hoping this will change, but alas, it doesn’t. It all still belongs to J.K. Rowling.

96 Days!! WOO HOO!!!

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Not Really Goodbye

It was warm. Exams were over. Voldemort was gone. Tomorrow they would be leaving on the Hogwarts Express, arrive at Kings Cross station, and step into their futures. Well, all but one of them would.

She would be staying. She had been offered a teaching position to start next term as Professor Flitwick had decided to retire. It was a tremendous opportunity for her to not only teach, which she had been thinking about pursuing, but to remain at her beloved Hogwarts as well.

But him? He wasn’t sure where he was going to go or what he was going to do. He wasn’t sure where he belonged anymore. He had always felt like Hogwarts was his home, somewhere he belonged, but it didn’t feel like that anymore. All of the 17 years he’d been on this planet had been in preparation to bring down the Dark Lord. He had never thought about a future, a career, a family...he never thought he’d live long enough to have to worry about it. But here he was, leaving Hogwarts forever, and going into an unknown. And it terrified him.

As the students filed into the Great Hall for their last lunch of the year, Hermione Granger kept an eager eye out for him; but he never came in. She tried to be polite and smile and engage her friends in conversation, but after ten minutes, she excused herself and left in search of him.

He was in his dormitory, sitting on the window ledge beside his bed, looking out over the lake. The giant squid was sunning itself on the shores as the water rippled gently around it. She raised her hand to knock on the door to announce her arrival but thought better of it. She didn’t want to startle him.

She stood there silently for a few minutes just watching him. His long legs were bent at the knees, pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around them. He was a commanding 6’1” now and looked cramped sitting there. And from what she could see of his face, he looked be deep in thought. His brow was creased in concentration, his lips pursed tightly. Something was clearly bothering him.

“Harry?” she asked quietly as she took a few tentative steps into the room. She just now looked around the room. All the other boys’ belongings had been packed in their trunks. It looked as if someone was moving out; and they were. But his things were still lying around his space, piles of books on the floor beside his bed, his trunk open with clothes hanging out of it; nothing packed. As if he wasn't leaving.

When she had called his name, he didn’t jump. He didn’t move. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence. She frowned as she came further into the room, now anxious to see what was bothering him. The closer she got to him, the more details she took in. His hands were gripped tightly together around his knees; his knuckles were white. Now she was worried. “Harry?” she asked, gently putting her hand on his shoulder.

Only then, at her physical contact, did he realize she was in the room. His head whipped around and he relaxed the minute he saw her. “Oh, hey, Mione,” he said quietly, quickly wiping the tears from his cheeks quickly, hoping she wouldn’t see them.

She frowned. “What is it?” she asked, scooting onto the window ledge with him. It was a tight fit with both of them there, but she didn’t care.

He looked back out the window and shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Harry James Potter,” she scolded gently. “When are you going to realize that you cannot hide?” She reached forward and gently touched his chin, pulling his face around until their eyes met. “Not from me.”

He smiled slightly and bowed his head. “Sorry.”

She grinned. “Don’t make me guess, Harry. You know how superb my divination skills are.”

Harry chuckled. Leave it to Hermione to always make me smile when I’m down. He looked at her, no longer caring if she could see the unshed tears in his eyes. “I guess I’m just scared.”

She put her hand on his knee and gave him a gentle smile. “Of what?”

Harry looked back out the window. “Everything,” he whispered. After letting out a long sigh, he looked back at her. “I have no idea what to do with my life now.”

Hermione frowned. “You can do anything you want, Harry,” she said seriously. Now was a time for him to enjoy life. To get out there and live life on his own terms. Do what he wanted to do. He was no longer a puppet for anyone.

He shook his head. “It’s not that simple,” he said sadly, his shoulders slumping. He looked defeated as he looked out the window once more. “I just know that I can’t stay here.”

Looking out at the same place he was, she nodded in understanding. “You do what you have to do, Harry,” she said firmly.

“What I have to do is get away from here,” he said flatly. He bowed his head, took a deep breath, then looked up again. “I just need to get away.”

Hermione nodded and remained silent. She knew what it was that was bothering him...it had been for months. Since he had killed Voldemort, Harry had been having a hard time dealing with it. In his eyes, he had become a murderer. And he was quite convinced that because of it, no one wanted to be around him any more, no one would want to be his friend, no one would ever want to love him.

But what he didn’t know was that she loved him. And it was way beyond the caring, platonic love that two friends have for each other. She truly loved him with all her heart. He had captured it sometime last year and she hoped that he would keep it forever. But that heart was now breaking as she saw the internal battle going on within him. He felt unworthy, unwelcome, and unloved, simply because he had fulfilled his destiny.

Everyone worshipped him now, and rightfully so. He had saved them all. The wizarding world was indebted to him for ridding their world of an evil overlord bent on taking over their way of life and extinguishing all wizard and witches who were not pureblooded. And the Muggles never knew how close they had come to being completely obliterated from existence. Harry had stopped all of that. And because he had, he no longer felt alive.

He felt empty.

Soulless.

Dead.

Hermione regarded him silently for a few minutes, suppressing a gasp while she watched a tear trail down his cheek. She had to resist the urge to reach out and wipe it away. Feeling emotion welling up inside of her as well, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Where will,” she had to clear her throat as her words came out scratchy, “where will you go?”

Harry looked at her and for the first time Hermione saw real fear in his eyes. She had seen it before in different forms over the years, most especially during the war. But this was something she hadn’t seen before. It was even beyond the scared little 11-year-old boy who lived under the stairs she’d met on the train seven years prior. These were eyes of a man who no longer felt he had a reason to live. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

Now she did reach forward and wipe his tears, cradling his face in her hands, smiling tenderly at him, trying to ease his pain. More pain. Hadn’t he had enough of that? Apparently not. The powers that be, wherever they may reside, seemed to have decided to punish this poor young man some more. For what, Hermione could not fathom. Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he proven himself worthy of happiness? “You can stay here,” she whispered quietly. “I’ll help you.”

Harry shook his head. “No, you can’t,” he said with finality. “And I can’t stay here. Too many memories. Too many things I don’t want to think about anymore.”

Hermione frowned as she sat back. “Are Ron and I included in that?”

Harry looked at her, shocked that she could have made such a statement. Did she not know? Did she not know that she was his entire world? And because she didn’t know his heart, because she didn’t know how he truly felt about her, she just assumed that she was part of the darkness that had apparently swallowed him? “No, Mione,” he said firmly as another tear sped down his face and landed on his arm. “You and Ron are the only things I will miss.”

“Then why leave?” she asked, sounding like she was begging. “You can stay here. You can teach maybe. Or tutor. Or be a Quidditch coach or something. Anything. I’m sure Albus....”

“I don’t want to owe him anything anymore,” Harry said with a hint of anger in his voice. The hurt and betrayal still ran too deep for him to forget—or forgive. As the war had progressed, Harry had come to the realization that all along he had been nothing but Dumbledore’s weapon, his puppet of destruction. Since the final day of that war, Harry had been contemplating if that bloody prophecy had been legitimate, or if it had, in fact, been just a ploy by Dumbledore to get Harry to fight for him. Either way, he had done what had been asked of him. And it had turned him into a killer.

Harry looked up at Hermione. “Besides, how can you want me to stay?” he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. “How can you even stand to look at me?” He got up and walked across the room, his back to her.

She regarded him silently, then stood up, walking to him and wrapping her arms around his middle, resting her head on his back. “Because I love you,” she said simply.

Harry gasped and turned around in her arms. “What?”

She smiled up at him, the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen on her beautiful face. “I love you, Harry.”

This statement only made him cry harder. He didn’t want to hear those words. Not now. Perhaps not ever. She didn’t deserve this. Deserve him. She deserved someone who could give all of himself to her. Someone who didn’t have 17 years of emotional baggage and scars wallowing around inside him. Someone who could freely give her his heart and not be afraid of it being smashed into a million pieces.

Hermione reached up and put both hands on his face, again wiping tears, but at the same time, pulling his head down to her. Their lips met for the first time in a sweet, chaste kiss, but a kiss that spoke volumes about what she felt for him.

Harry pulled away, looking at her strangely. “Why now?” he asked, swallowing hard. “Why must you tell me this now? When I’m about to leave you?”

She smiled. “I was hoping to change your mind.”

For a fleeting second, Harry thought she had. His resolve was crumbling under the beauty that was her smile. I can’t. Attempting to shut off his emotions once more, he stepped away from her and shook his head. “No, Mione. I’m leaving. I have to,” he paused, gathering his strength for what was coming next, “for my own sake.”

She regarded him silently then nodded. She took his hand and held it against her cheek, her own tears falling now. “You take as long as you need to, Harry,” she said in a forgiving tone. She didn’t want him to think that she was angry at him for making this decision. “And when you decide you’re ready to come home, when you’re ready to come back to us...to me...I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting for you.”

And with that, Hermione held his hand to her lips, kissed the back of it, then gently let it fall. With a last smile at him, she turned and walked towards the door. Harry just stared after her. Could he let her leave like this? Could he let her leave without saying what he felt in his heart? “Mione!” he called after her.

She stopped just before crossing the threshold and turned to look back at him. He didn’t move. He didn’t want to get any closer to her, fearing that his determination would falter. “I, um,” he cleared his throat in an attempt to make his next words sound meaningful and heartfelt, “I love...you.”

Hermione smiled. “I know,” she said quietly, then turned and left the room. And she was gone. Harry stared at the spot she had just inhabited for a good minute before he blinked. And then without another thought, he ran about packing his things haphazardly into his trunk, wanting to get out of there before anyone could stop him.

Once his belongings were packed and his space no longer looked lived in, he pulled out a piece of parchment with Ron’s name on it and laid it on top of his friend’s trunk. He knew Ron would probably be angry with him for not saying goodbye to his face, but it was better this way.

Better for everyone.

Better for him.

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Nearly two years later...

Professor Granger sat at her desk grading papers. The warm spring breeze blew into the room from the open window, disturbing the papers on her desk. They were kept from flying away by a picture frame that was sitting atop them. She looked up and smiled fondly at the picture in the frame.

Harry and Ron were waving at her. Colin had taken this picture of them the day of their graduation, two years ago this summer. Her eyes focused on Harry and a frown adorned her face. She hadn’t heard from him since he had sent her a birthday gift back in September. That was six months ago. And before then, the only letter she’d gotten from him was a short note that said he was all right...nothing more.

She didn’t like his cryptic messages. She wanted more. She needed more. She wanted to know where he was, what he was doing...who he was with. That thought made her stomach clench. The thought of her Harry with someone else made her physically ill. He hadn’t promised her that he would wait for her, and he had been gone for such a long time. 

As she stared at his picture, his mesmerizing green eyes stared back, hypnotizing her as they had always done. She wondered if he had found what he had gone looking for, or if it still eluded him. Was he on a wild goose chase, or was what he sought something he could actually find? The part of her that had longed to go with him that day he left was nagging at her now. If you had gone with him, you could have helped him find it.

No. This was something he had to do for himself. I couldn’t help him this time. Even if he had asked me to.

She sighed heavily and looked back down at the paper she was grading—The Properties of the Levitation Charm by Sally Myers. Hermione smiled. One of her best students. And this paper was no exception. She marked it with a big red “O” on the top and put it aside. She loved teaching...it had been her calling. But that nagging persisted. What if she had gone with Harry that day? What if she had given up his huge career opportunity just to be with him? Would this have been waiting for her when they got back? Or would something else—something better—have come along for her? I’ll never know.

Picking up the next paper, she began to read it. It was Saturday. The students that hadn’t gone to Hogsmeade were most likely outside enjoying this beautiful spring day. The castle was quiet, a bit too quiet perhaps. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard footsteps approaching down the corridor but didn’t look up as they neared her door. Eventually they passed her classroom and disappeared.

Her mind back on the paper in front of her, she didn’t notice the air change. Something was making it swirl around the door, like there was something physical blocking the flow. Still not noticing anything around her, her dark brown eyes quickly scanned over the paper, her brow creased in concentration as she took in what her first year student had written about the unlocking charm, Alohomora. Hermione unknowingly smiled as she thought back to the first time she had ever used it...when she, Harry, and Ron were hiding from Filch on the third floor and had the pleasure of meeting Fluffy for the first time. Ah, the good old days.

She was so engrossed in the paper, that she didn’t hear the sound of shuffling feet approach her desk. Just as she was about to turn the page, a white rose appeared in front of her eyes. She gasped and looked up...into the stunning green eyes she was beginning to think she would never see again. Merlin, is it really him? “Harry?”

He smiled at her, still holding out the rose as he stood up to his full height. Hermione sat back in her chair, suddenly finding breathing overrated. She stood up slowly, walked around her desk, then stopped. They regarded each other silently, her hands balled into fists at her sides, him still holding onto the rose. Okay, her inner voice said calmly, think rationally before you go making a fool of yourself....

Oh, sod that!

She suddenly launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist. Harry laughed, catching her as she jumped onto him, twirling her around in circles. Before she could even think about what she was doing, she pulled back, grabbed his face, and kissed him hard—fiercely and frantically—like she was marking her territory.

Harry moaned into her mouth as he kissed her back, allowing her tongue entrance to his mouth when he felt it moving along his lips. He walked backwards towards the nearest desk and gently laid her down on her back, then slowly broke the kiss. Looking down into her flushed face, Harry was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He gently brushed her hair from her face and smiled at her. “Hello to you, too,” he said, slightly out of breath.

Hermione didn’t stop the tears that suddenly came bursting from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down against her, nearly toppling them both off the small desk. Harry chuckled and stood up, all the while holding her in his strong arms. Hermione sobbed openly against his chest, tightening her arms around him like she would never let him go. She clung to him like a lifeline; it wasn’t until that moment she realized he truly was. Her heart had had a gaping hole in it since he had left. Only now with him back did she feel complete.

Harry rocked her back and forth while she cried, his face buried in her hair, refamiliarizing himself with her scent. Vanilla and cinnamon today. His hands slowly stroked up and down her back, calming and soothing her. “Don’t cry anymore, Hermione,” he whispered, “please. It breaks my heart.”

She took a deep breath and pulled back, still holding onto him. As she looked up, water that had welled up in her eyes fell down her cheeks, leading another steady stream of tears that just kept coming. But she was calm. She reached up and touched his face gently, like he was a porcelain doll and she was afraid he would break. “You came back,” she whispered, her finger tracing his jaw line. “You came back to me.”

Harry smiled. “How could I not?” he said just as quietly. Footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway. This isn’t a good time for interruption, you know, he thought bitterly. Looking at the door, he waved his hand and it closed. “Colloportus.” he said firmly, and door sealed itself.

He turned back to look down at her. “Now, where were we?”

Hermione smiled and threw herself against him again, wrapping her arms around his waist, pulling herself tightly against him, her head tucked under his chin. They stood there like that for what seemed like hours when Harry gently pulled her away. He wiped the few remaining tears from her face with his thumbs and grinned. “Want to go for a walk?”

She inhaled a quick breath and grinned, trying to regain some composure. “People will see you,” she said.

Harry nodded. “It’s all right. Besides, Snape saw me when I came in and I’m sure he’s told the whole teaching staff by now.” He smoothed her hair, watching his hand trace it all the way down to the curve of her hips. “Your hair is so long,” he said in wonder.

Grinning, she shrugged. “Do you like it this way?” she asked. “I mean, I never wore it this long before and I just never got around to cutting it, and it’s easier to just throw it back in a ponytail or something. It is a pain to wash though, and it takes forever to dry properly....”

“Mione?” he said gently pressing a finger to her lips, silencing her. She looked up at him. “You’re babbling.”

Blush crept into her cheeks. “Sorry.”

Harry kissed the tip of her nose and took her hand. “Come on,” he pulled her towards the door and opened it. Peeking both ways down the corridor, Harry pulled her behind him quickly as they made their way to the main doors. They ran down the stone steps toward the lake, hand in hand, like a couple of school children. And seeing as how they were just barely two years removed from that title, it was closer to the truth that not.

They finally stopped running and slowed their pace to a nice, easy walk. They held hands the entire time, walking twice around the lake. Harry told her everything. Where he had been, what he had seen, and what he had done. They approached “their” tree for the second time and Harry conjured up a blanket for them to sit on. He waited for Hermione to get comfortable, then he sat beside her.

“I remember sitting in that café that night,” he went on, continuing his story, “and I looked out the window and saw a woman walk by. She was about 5’7”, had brown bushy hair,” Hermione looked at him, “and when she happened to look in the window and our eyes met, I noticed she had dark brown eyes.” He turned to face her. “I could have sworn I was looking at you.”

Hermione swallowed but didn’t say anything. Harry grinned at her stunned silence. He picked up her hand and laced his fingers through hers, bringing them up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. “It was right then, at that moment, that I knew what I was looking for,” he continued, almost sadly. “When she looked at me I physically felt my heart stop. Talk about an epiphany.” Hermione chuckled and looked down.

Harry lifted her chin with a finger and looked deep into her eyes. “It was at that moment that I knew I wouldn’t find what I was looking for. Because it wasn’t out there,” he said quietly, tears starting to dampen the corners of his eyes. “It had been here all the time.”

Inhaling a gasp, Hermione closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “Harry....”

“Shhh,” he shook his head, “please let me finish.” She only nodded. “I went looking for myself. I went looking for who I had become.” He looked out over the lake. “And you were right, Mione. As always. I hadn’t really become anyone else. I just didn’t know how to deal with everything that I’d been through, and it was eating me up inside.

“Instead of letting my friends and those who cared about me help me through it, I pushed them away, just like I always had,” he said sadly. “Leave it to me, to not ask for help when I need it the most. If I had, I would never have left, because you would have helped me,” he turned back to face her, “just like you said you would.”

Hermione smiled, then cupped his face in her hands and kissed him softly. “Yes, I would have.”

Harry grinned and looked down at their intertwined hands. The sound of laughter made them look up.

Walking towards them but still aways off yet, were three students...two boys and a girl. One of the boys seemed to be lagging behind the other two a bit, but he had a dreamy look on his face as he watched his two friends. The lead boy leaned down to whisper something in the girl’s ear and she giggled shyly, then he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. The boy behind smiled.

Harry sighed and gave Hermione’s hand a little squeeze. “I wish I would have realized it sooner,” he said almost sadly. Keeping his eyes averted from hers, he whispered, “so much time wasted....”

Hermione smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. “Sixth years,” she said quietly, “Simon, Sabrina, and Luke.” Harry looked at her. She smiled up at him, and laid her head back down against him. “My students.” Harry nodded, pulling her hand up to his lips and kissing the back of it tenderly. He let it fall only to his chest where he kept it tightly held against his heart. “They aren’t a couple.”

“Yet,” Harry said quietly and kissed the top of her head. Hermione just smiled.