Jill Normal Jill 2 88 2003-07-07T00:08:00Z 2003-07-07T00:08:00Z 3 2030 9056 181 40 11046 10.2625 Clean Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4
Amazing Grace: Chapter Three
Disclaimer: JKR is a creative genius who rocks the worlds of readers everywhere. The characters in this fanfic are hers, not mine. I am NOT a creative genius. The only things I own are the situations and the dialogue. Everything else belongs to her. Lucky woman. Let me put it this way: if you recognize something, it is most likely hers, if not, then it is most likely mine!
A/N: Sorry there has been such a delay between chapters, I was (am still) having a bit of writer's block. And then there was OotP…man, what a great book! So that took some time, too. I'm sure you understand, and if not, well, YOU try and write a fic!
"Oh, Harry!"
Hermione gasped as she saw his face. After the build up he had given, she was expecting the very worst. He said he hadn't seen a mirror, so he really had no idea what it looked like, and he assumed the worst as well. She reached up and ran her fingers along his lips, up his cheeks, and across his forehead, resting on the all-too-familiar scar that lay there. There were two new scars next to it, in the same lightning bolt shape. The worst part was his left eye, which was very badly bruised and swollen shut.
"Harry, it really isn't that bad. I mean, there are a lot of scrapes, and bruises, but there really isn't much that I can't fix with a few simple healing spells," she wanted to get a mirror to show him. She got up and went to the bathroom, bringing back a small hand mirror.
As he looked at his own reflection, tears of relief welled up in his eyes. He had been so afraid that he was horribly disfigured. After about three minutes of close inspection of his face, he set the mirror down and turned to face Hermione.
"Do you really think you can fix some of this?" He looked at her with skepticism, wondering if he would soon be normal.
"Well, yeah, I think I can. Scrapes and minor cuts are easy, and I know an anti-bruising spell that should do wonders for that eye. You may be left with the two extra scars on your forehead, those look familiar, curse scars, I think." She ran her fingertips over the scars again, pausing to look into his eyes. She could see three month's worth of pent up pain and anger, lingering just below the surface of his calm demeanor. She wanted to erase the pain, make him forget the horrors that he had endured, but nothing short of an "obliviate" spell would change that. She would just have to help him through the memories the best way she knew how. So she wrapped him up in her arms, holding him tightly. All her worrying and fear from the last three months seemed to drip away as she clung tightly to her Harry. Her Harry. Not dead Harry, not missing Harry, not even heroic Harry. Just her Harry. She felt safe in his arms, protected. It almost felt as if the three months apart had never even happened.
Harry also felt his pain and anger dripping away as he rested in Hermione's embrace. He felt calm and comforted, safe. It was a comfort that had been missing for three solid, lonely, painful months. But she was back. His Hermione was back. His Hermione. Not helpless Hermione, not scared Hermione, not dead Hermione. Just his Hermione. As he held her in his arms, it was as if the three months didn't matter. Things felt just as they did before all the horror and nastiness entered into the picture. It was almost as if they were back in the Gryffindor common room, sitting in front of the roaring fire. He was sure that any second, Ron would come rushing through the portrait hole, interrupting their magical moment.
That thought sobered Harry, and brought him out of his reverie. Ron was gone. He remembered Ron's mangled body lying on the ground before he disappeared. Harry broke contact with Hermione and looked away, trying to ease the tears from his eyes.
"You're thinking of Ron, aren't you? I know you are, you don't have to hide it, I've been thinking of him, too," Hermione placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and turned his face back to meet hers. Her voice was soft and understanding. The tears were leaking down the sides of his cheeks, their paths obstructed by scars and scrapes. She was crying, too. It hurt her to see him in pain, physical or emotional.
Slowly, taking care not to cause him more pain, she kissed the tears away from his face. The tenderness of her actions just made him cry more. He was used to cruelty and roughness, and the contrast that she brought proved too much for him to handle. Pulling him back into an embrace, Hermione whispered words of reassurance in his ears. He felt his body relaxing into her warmth, comfort flowing through his veins as he rested. Soon, he was asleep; the mental anguish of reliving the last three months for her had been very tiring.
He dreamed about their last year at Hogwarts, before any of the horrible Voldemort business had truly plagued any of them. Sure, it was always in the back of everyone's mind, but nothing concrete had happened for a few years. They were doing things that normal teenagers in their last year of school did. Hermione was freaking out about the N.E.W.T.S., Ron was freaking out about getting a Quidditch Team invite, and Harry was freaking out about well, nothing really.
His dream shifted to his and Hermione's first romantic encounter. It was near Halloween, on a Friday night. They had been arguing about something, in the dream it was about Buckbeak getting married, but he supposed that the real argument was about something completely different. Hermione was red in the face, and he had been shouting. The common room had cleared, because the rest of the students had a feeling that this row would end in something other than anger, and they had no wish to see any of that. Besides, they thought that Harry and Hermione would want their privacy.
"Why can't he just have a happy life like any normal hippogriff? Why does he have to be any different?!" Hermione screeched. Flinging her arms in the air.
"Why?! Because he is an escaped convict! Do you not recall busting him out of a certain situation that involved him assaulting Malfoy and being put to death?! That's right, we busted him out! He's on run from the law! If he were to be married, the law would know that he is still alive, and that we helped him escape!" Harry threw himself into an armchair out of frustration.
"OH! So that's what this is about! You just don't want to get in trouble for helping him escape! It's all about YOU, isn't it! It's always all about you!"
"What?! All about me? How can you say that?! After all we have been through together! You'd be in just as much trouble as I would!" He jumped out of the chair right in front of her, and they were standing face to face, both breathing hard, and both very angry. As he looked into her eyes, the anger faded, and was replaced by something else, something, different. He saw it change in her eyes, too. The anger was gone, and replaced with…love? Passion? Both?
Without thinking, he bent down and kissed her. His hands wound around her back, pulling her closer to him. She reached up behind his head, running her hands through his shaggy black hair, deepening the kiss. They broke apart a moment later, staring at one another in pure shock. Had that just happened? Yes. And he wanted it to happen again.
Before he could move to kiss her again, he was thrown to the ground, with Hermione on top of him. She was fused to him by way of the mouth, and he was all the more glad because of it.
The sheer joy of that moment, when he knew that this was the girl he was going to spend forever with, was such a great feeling. They lay there, on the common room floor, for what seemed like an eternity, just happy that the feelings of mutual attraction were finally out in the open. Eventually, the kissing stopped, and they were talking.
"Hermione, I don't know what to say, except, I love you. I have loved you since, oh, I don't know, forever."
"I know exactly what you mean, Harry. I love you, too. I feel like I have loved you since before I even met you."
They talked till dawn, stopping only when the early risers came down the dorm stairs for breakfast. People glanced at them with smiling faces, knowing looks in their eyes. Apparently everyone else knew that they loved each other, too. Ron came bounding down the steps with a huge grin on his face, ecstatic that his two best friends had finally admitted their feelings to each other.
"Well, it's about time, you two!"
It was the happiest memory that Harry possessed, and he often dreamt of it. Each time, the big fight would have a different subject, ranging from hippogriff weddings to Dudley going to fat camp.
Hermione was watching Harry sleep, and wondered what he was smiling at in his dreams. She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling to herself that he had something to smile about. She hugged him closer and settled herself to sleep.
She dreamed about their last year at Hogwarts, right after Christmas break. Ron and Ginny had gone to the Burrow, and she and Harry had stayed at the castle. They had a whole week to themselves, as Gryffindor Tower was mainly deserted. A few third years had remained, but that was it, and they mostly kept to themselves. Christmas morning, she woke up to Harry's smiling face. He had sneaked into her dorm room, and slipped into bed with her. She wondered how long he had been there, watching her sleep. She didn't mind, because she had done it to him the night before. He kissed her good morning, then threw open the curtains on the bed. The floor was covered in piles of presents, food, and snow.
"Oh, Harry! It's beautiful! Is that real snow?" She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and dipped her toe into the snow. Instead of a biting cold, it was a pleasant cool feeling. The snow had been charmed to remain frozen at a comfortably temperature for bare feet. They spent the whole day in her room, opening presents, eating delicious Hogwarts food and having snowball fights. It was a perfect day. Harry's present to her had been a beautiful silver ring, which had belonged to his mother. Sirius had given it to him, with the instructions from his mother that it was to be given to the girl that Harry wished to spend the rest of his life with. He had no problem giving her the ring, because he was convinced that they were meant for each other. She was absolutely honored to wear a piece of jewelry that had belonged to Lily, and signified her promise to Harry.
In her dream, Hermione smiled, subconsciously fingering the ring on her left hand. Her ministrations woke Harry, and he gazed at her hand, amazed that she still wore the ring. He had almost forgotten about it. He loved her even more just remembering the day that he had given her that ring. He kissed her forehead, and hugged her closer to him. Then he settled back to sleep.
They both went back to their respective dreams, each reveling in the happiest memories that they had, consumed with thoughts of each other.