Chapter Twenty-Five: Everything's going to change now, isn't it?
It was the chill that woke him, which was when other things began to filter through to him. Sound of rain striking glass, and the roof, and the trees outside.
He realized, slowly, that the bed was emptier than it had been the night before, but for some reason the thought did not worry him. Hermione was safe now.
Hermione. He smiled, and then eased open his eyes. Only to discover the room was out of focus. His glasses had been removed during the night. The thought merely had to pass through his mind and he could see again, though the ceiling was rather uninteresting, when you got right down to it.
Harry Potter sat up, and his eyes immediately found Hermione standing by the open window. The rain was falling outside, generating a cool breeze that was tugging at Hermione's hair and his shirt that she was still wearing. The same cool breeze that had awoken him.
He decided right then that his shirt was far too thin considering the amount of light that was coming from the open window. Silently, he watched as Hermione lifted up her hand and ran it through her hair, then leaned forward against the window frame. Each movement was so precise and graceful, made even more alluring by the way the fabric clung to her, and rode up on her thighs with the movements…
Finally, he broke the silence. "Hermione." That was all, just her name, simple and sweet.
She did not react with surprise, as if she had known he was awake. Perhaps she had. There had always been a special connection between them. "Yes, Harry?" Her voice was soft, projected out of the window, before she turned around to face him.
Harry smiled at her tentatively, and she smiled back. It was the warm, friendly smile, the one that told him everything was going to be okay, before it faded, and became a little more forced, no longer effortless on her part. He sighed, knowing and preparing for what was to come.
"You are Harry, aren't you? You just aren't my Harry, are you? You're not the same Harry that there was before the battle in the Ministry. I've been thinking about everything that happened in the Death Exchange, replaying all those memories of yours in my head, and I've come to only one conclusion."
She fell silent, and Harry chose not to rush her, for once. It took a long moment, and she continued. "They were all real. They are who you are, not the boy, the young man who I've attended school with for the last seven years." Harry could see tears forming in her eyes, and was afraid to move, to scare her, to do anything that would stop this, and at the same time, desperate to stop where he thought this was going, an ending of their friendship, another loss of her. "You're not the Harry Potter I fell in love with," Hermione continued as the first tear trickled along her cheek.
Harry's mind reeled like he had been slapped. She… loved him. So stunned was he that he almost missed her next words. "But I don't know who you are any more, Harry." She turned away, fully crying now. "Or what is worse, maybe I do know who you are. I've seen what you did, who you became. You fought evil with a greater evil; you became the very thing you despised."
Harry shifted off the covers, and moved to stand up, but Hermione had turned around now, and trapped him in place with her gaze. "Yet you came back to now. I don't know how you did it, and for once in my life, there is something I don't want to know. Dumbledore was right when he stopped me last year from trying to figure it out; I've long since come to terms with that. But what made you come back? That is what I don't understand. Who you were, there was no reason for you to return."
Harry's response was simple, short, and very much to the point. "You." Hermione's eyes begged him to elucidate further, and so he did. "I returned because of you, Hermione. Everything I was, everything I did, it was all because of you. I became that person in the future because I…" He grew choked up, his voice catching in his throat. "Because of what I did when they had me under the Imperious Curse."
Hermione broke in with a whisper. "You killed me."
"Yes," Harry breathed out softly. "I became who I was because I could not live with what I had done. You saw how… how I destroyed Voldemort that time. How I stopped caring…" He could barely force the words out.
"You stopped caring about anything else," she finished for him. "You let hate for him consume you. You became what he was…"
Harry shook his head miserably. "No, never quite that." He sighed, and hung his head. "You see, I learned so many thing in the future, that future, how love and hate are two sides of the same coin, how there are many types of love, and many types of hate. My hate was the hatred of loss, and a self-hatred because I lived. Tom Riddle had the hatred of never being loved, so he never learned to love himself." He looked up at the movement of the mattress as Hermione sat down on the other end, facing him.
"Harry, I…" her voice caught, "I saw things… in your memories, things I would have never thought you capable of. And yet, here, this time, you've lost Ron and all our friends again, you've refrained, you haven't killed at all."
Harry met her eyes squarely, green boring into brown. "I didn't kill for them, Hermione. I killed for you. Weren't you paying attention in those memories? I killed them all because they took you away from me, because they…" He tore his gaze away, looking at anything but her.
He felt her slide up the bed towards him. "Because they what, Harry?"
He forced it out behind a sob. "Because they took the one person I loved more than any other away. I loved you, I still love you, Hermione. I came back because even twenty-seven years after I lost you, I couldn't stand it. I couldn't be without you." He managed to restore some semblance of order to his face. "You heard my conversation with Snape in that future. You know what I became, and you know that I knew what you thought of what I had become." A dark shadow of smile ghosted across his lips. "The same thing you think of me now, learning what happened to me."
"No, Harry. I don't think badly of you." He lifted his head in surprise, meeting her eyes once more. "You've spent more than one lifetime to correct your mistakes. You turned aside from your path, and chose not to let the darkness win." She smiled at him and moved closer, straddling his legs on the bed. "You, in the end, chose the light, chose love, despite all the pain and suffering." She leaned in closer. "In the end, you chose me, and I love you for that, Harry. You loved me so much that you literally undid the wrong you did, knowing how much I would not have been able to understand. You dedicated your entire life to earning my forgiveness, to proving yourself worthy." Hermione's hands rested on Harry's shoulders now, and he could not move, staring into her eyes. "You did not need to do that, Harry. I may hate what you became, but I never will stop loving you."
It was not like in Durmstrang when he kissed her. That had been an explosion of passion, an urgent, needy, hungry kiss, borne of desperation and necessity. There was absolutely none of his roughness when Hermione tentatively pressed her lips to his.
Their lips barely seemed to be in contact, just brushing up against each other as time slowed down. Every element of reality seemed to vanish away, further and further, pulling apart from them as their kiss slowly deepened. His arms went around her back, tightening, crushing her against him, and Hermione gasped against Harry's mouth, her lips parting.
His tongue snaked forward, sliding into her mouth, meeting her own, the kiss deepening hungrily as shocks of power rushed between them. His hand slid up her back, onto her neck, as he felt her fingers twining in his hair…
The sound of Remus Lupin clearing his throat broke them apart with a start, Hermione emitting a squeal and turning bright pink with embarrassment as she dove behind Harry at the sight of Remus, Tonks, and Headmaster Dumbledore standing in the doorway to Harry's bedroom.
Tonks' "Hot Damn, it's about time, you two," nearly drowned out Professor Dumbledore's "Oh dear, I hope we're not interrupting." But both were overpowered by Harry's "HOW ABOUT YOU ALL KNOCK NEXT TIME?"
Which merely prompted laughter from the three adults. Harry glared, and Hermione was hiding herself under the covers, attempting to cover up the fact that the only thing she still had on was Harry's shirt.
Finally, Remus calmed down enough to explain. "We did knock, Harry. Four separate times, in fact, three times with the door closed and once after we opened it. All of which failed to get your attention."
That caused Harry to blush. After a moment of silence, Dumbledore took pity on the teens, and smiled kindly with a twinkle in his eye. "Remus, Nymphadora, I wish to speak with Harry and Miss Granger alone."
"Sure," Tonks responded. "We were just about to go rest." She grinned. "Unlike these two, we know what a bed is for."
The number of utterly shameless double meanings in that statement turned everyone else but Dumbledore bright red, as Remus dragged a giggling Tonks away. Dumbledore shut the door behind him as he entered the room without invitation. A wave of his wand conjured three plush armchairs in the midst of the floor. "Please, come sit here."
Harry waved his hand over Hermione's legs under the covers and nodded minutely at her, before standing himself and shrugging into his robe which he summoned from a nearby hook. As they sat in the funny purple armchairs, Harry took in his handiwork, noting that even for him, the Gryffindor sleep pants Hermione was now wearing were pretty good conjuring.
A moment of silence ensued after Dumbledore sat as well, which Harry eventually broke. "What did you wish to talk about, Professor?"
"Well, firstly, I gather from what I walked in on that neither you nor Miss Granger are worse for wear as a result of your adventures?"
"I'm fine, sir," Harry replied, and glanced at Hermione. "And Hermione is too, as far as I know." She nodded, confirming Harry's words, still obviously embarrassed by what had happened earlier.
Dumbledore nodded. "I am glad of that. You two have been through so much over the last few years, that should now be over. The Death Eaters' power has been broken, and the specter of Voldemort is finally gone from our lives. We accounted for one hundred and forty-four of the remaining Death Eaters at Durmstrang. Do either of you know what happened to Wormtail?"
Hermione shivered slightly in her chair, and spoke at last. "Bellatrix… slaughtered him… like an animal, to provide the blood needed… for the runes." At that, she blinked, and looked down, pulling Harry's shirt away from her body to look at her chest, and sighing with relief as she noticed the bloody lightning bolt was missing. A quick glance at Harry confirmed that he had removed it.
"Then there are indeed no more of them left. For that, I shall be eternally grateful to you, Harry." Dumbledore sighed, and for a moment looked nearly his full age. "This Second War has cost us all very dearly, and I am very much afraid that time is running out for the wizarding community, and I am not going to be able to provide guidance for much longer."
Harry looked up sharply, concern in his eyes, a matching concern in Hermione's. "Sir, what?"
Dumbledore smiled calmly. "I am merely old, Harry. That is all. It is nothing preventable, and it will not be long, depending on how one measures things, before I move on to that next great adventure." At the obvious distress on the two young people's faces, he added. "Do not worry, it will not be in the immediate future. I am merely preparing for it." He looked back and forth between them. "Hogwarts will be opening late this year, due to the damage from Lord Voldemort's attack on it, and I have a proposition for you, Harry. There are a number of openings on the staff, and I would like you to have one."
Hermione's eyes grew wide, but not nearly so much as Harry's, which neatly accompanied his strangled "Me, sir?"
Amusement was evident on the Headmaster's face. "Yes, Harry, you. Given your unique, ah, background, I believe you would be suited to break the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, but you may also have the position of flying instructor if you would rather."
Hermione was gaping now. "He knew?" Her voice was accusing, her question directed at Harry.
"Ah…" was all Harry got out before the headmaster rescued him.
"Yes, Miss Granger, I did, though through no fault of Harry's. He did not reveal the information by choice."
That prompted Harry into speaking again. "How exactly did you know, Professor? You never said."
"Well, I suppose it will not hurt to tell you, now that you are no longer students. When you are as immersed in magic as I, you no longer see people all the time, if you choose not to. Instead you can see their life force, their soul. Yours was far older when I looked at you in the Ministry, Harry." The headmaster smiled. "That is also how I could see you through your invisibility cloak while at school."
Harry smiled sheepishly. "Thank you for the offer, sir. I don't truly know what to say. I've never really thought about what to do from here. I've fought enough evil for two lifetimes, and I know it will always be there. May I have a while to think about it?"
"Of course. Let me know by the first of September. School will not be opening until October." Dumbledore turned his attention to Hermione. "Now, it has come to my attention that due to certain events beyond our control, Professor Binns has finished his transition out of this plane, leaving me also short a History of Magic professor."
Hermione broke in, cutting the Headmaster off, something she would have never done in a million years just a month prior. "May I also, like Harry, have some time to think about it?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. Now, I have been informed that the Ministry is planning to hold a celebration on the thirty-first of July to celebrate Lord Voldemort's defeat and to commemorate those we lost. You will both be expected to attend, I'm sure, to receive awards."
Harry glowered at Dumbledore. "Couldn't they find someone else to shill their crappy medals out on? I don't want anything to do with the Ministry, especially on my birthday. If they had done their job right in the first place, I would never had had to do what I did, we would never have lost all those people."
"You are correct, Harry. But the past is in the past," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he connected up who he was speaking to. "Do not snub the Ministry, and perhaps you will be able to exert influence over it, as I have not been able to." The old man smiled kindly. "That is all I have to say, for now." He stood gracefully, for being well over a century and a half old, and smiled wider as his chair vanished. "Your chairs will vanish as soon as you rise from them. I expect to see you on the first of August, if not before. I shall be going, as I believe you two were busy when I arrived." And with that, he swept silently from the room.
It was a long moment of simply looking at each other before either of them moved, then they moved as one, standing and embracing deeply, without kissing, just staring into each other, breaking apart suddenly, and rather sheepishly, as thunder crashed outside, lightning illuminating a room which had grown darker with the sky.
Hermione moved to close the window, and Harry whispered, "Wait." She turned and looked at him quizzically over her shoulder as he moved up behind her, wrapping his arms around her thin waist. "I've had a lifetime of storms to remind me of the night you died, 'Mione. This time, I want storms to remind me of the night I told you I loved you."
She settled back against his chest, looking out the window as rain pelted the ground, another peal of thunder crashing a moment later. Harry sat his chin lightly atop her head, nestled in her bushy brown locks, and he smiled happily, feeling her hands resting on his own.
"I love you, Hermione Granger," he whispered softly.
"I love you too, Harry Potter."
Author's Note: The chapter title was lifted from the end of the US Goblet of Fire Trailer, where Hermione speaks the question. I cannot give a page reference, as I cannot locate it in the book, despite a fair bit of searching.