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Three pitchers of lager later Emma had cajoled Ron onto the small dance floor by the jukebox and they were blissfully unaware, swaying in time to the music, leaving Harry and Hermione alone, side-by-side in the booth.
"Er. . .Hermione, listen, I want to apologize. For everything." Harry said, not quite sloshed, but braver than he'd be without alcohol, laying his hand on her leg.
"I'm sorry I just stopped writing and visiting like that. I was in a really dark place, I was so mad at myself for not having stopped Voldemort earlier. Years earlier, hell, an hour earlier and that muggle village would still be in tact. I couldn't stand to look at myself and I figured no one else could either. And I know now how stupid that was, what a great help you would've been, how you would've shouldered the responsibility of a basket-case like me willingly, but, Hermione, I was becoming a liability. Look how well you thrived at your new school! Could you imagine trying to write the best paper a professor had ever read while trying to take the edge off my self-deprecating tendencies? It wouldn't have worked. I AM sorry I did it, because of how upset you look right this very moment, but I have to tell you, I'd do it again, because, Herm, I love you and I don't ever want to cause you any undue anguish. Merlin knows we've all have enough to last six lifetimes."
"Who do you think you are?! Making decisions for me like I'm a child! Honestly! Harry, I understand that you had your heart in the right place and normally that would be enough, but you were so very, very wrong this time that it's almost laughable. Do you know the anguish it caused me when you all but disappeared from my life, became nothing more than a byline in the paper? I really thought I had done something wrong, thought you were upset with me over the end of our relationship, if you can even call it that,"
Harry flinched, but nodded for her to continue.
"Thought there was something to do with Voldemort that you were keeping from me. And Ron was worried too, though he tried not to show it. Do you know how many of our owls to each other started with, 'Have you heard from Harry?' Do you?!"
Harry started to reply, but realized the question had been rhetorical when she started up again.
"And the Prophet, Harry? What was that all about? There were no less than three quidditch teams trying to figure out just where the hell they were going to get a starting seeker after you took yourself out of the running."
Harry blushed, he had known could've walked on to any team of his liking and it embarrassed him that Hermione had known that too.
"Really, Harry, journalism? Your marks in letters hardly qualified you for such an endeavor. It seems like you were trying to make yourself fade away as much as possible while still assuring the community you were alive through a name in the paper."
Hermione seemed to realize she'd offended him with the mark about his writing skills and rushed to qualify herself, "I have to say though, your articles ARE phenomenal."
"Yeah," he grumbled, "who knew what Harry Potter could accomplish once he set his mind to it?"
"I knew, Harry, I always knew."
"Look here, Hermione, I AM sorry, but I have to believe that my staying would've done more harm than good. I HAVE to believe that because I couldn't live with myself if I thought it wasn't true. The paper offer came and I just took it, on an impulse, it seemed like the perfect place to hide, which is, like I told you before, exactly what I wanted to do. I swear that I won't hare off again, I'll be here for you, forever, if you'll have me."
"Of course I will Harry, but the real question is will you let ME be there for YOU?"
Harry nodded slowly and she looked relieved.
"And AS for our relationship, I think we should start fresh. I'll try to forget that you taste like sugar quills and cider and you can forget what kind of undergarments I wear."
Harry looked horrified.
"Oh, Harry, we're only forgetting so we can learn again, on much happier terms."
He grinned at that and pulled Hermione into a hug.
"Oi, you two! This is a public place! Fooling around of that type won't be tolerated," Ron hollered as he walked back to the table, Emma in tow.
Hermione shot him a 'look' and Harry became immediately interested in the handle of his mug.
"Anyway, the barman said this was last call, thought I'd see if you wanted to join us for the last dance."
Harry looked at Hermione and when she nodded her acceptance, he took her hand and led her out of the booth.
Harry heard the introduction to a song he recognized, and wondered briefly how they were supposed to dance to this, but then Hermione put her arms around his neck and he found didn't care anyway, smiling to himself as the lyrics of the song floated by them -
Golden brown texture like sun
Lays me down with my mind she runs
Throughout the night
No need to fight
Never a frown with golden brown
After seeing Emma to the back of the pub so she could apparate home, they walked Hermione back to her flat. Harry tried not to be upset when Ron received the same farewell as himself - a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.
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The lyrics are from 'Golden Brown,' by the Stranglers, most definitely a cool song.
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