As always thanks to CC and DE for the beta work!!!
*hugs*
VL
Chapter Four: Alone
Harry waved at the security wizard and breezed by the station before the old man could stop him with another photographic introduction to his new grandson, Harry. He bounded up the stairs toward Hermione's room, a scroll of parchment clutched in his hand.
He received the owl from St. Mungo's an hour ago. Morgenstern spared any explanation and informed him that Hermione would be released from the hospital's care at noon. Harry spent just enough time tidying her bookshelves and straightening the photographs on her mantelpiece before conjuring a vase of peonies for the kitchen table. Satisfied that her home was as inviting as he could make it, he set off for St. Mungo's at record pace. To him, an official discharge from the hospital solidified her prognosis. He had found her in time.
A broad smile stamped itself across his face. He felt like he was flying without a broomstick. Not even the presence of Ron's new attraction, cutting her eyes at him from behind the nurses' desk, could dampen his mood. Hermione was coming home. He reached for the doorknob to her room when it slipped out of reach and opened for him. He stopped in his tracks, feeling his expression falter, as Ron stepped out of the room.
"Harry," he said.
"Ron," he replied.
Ron walked past him without another word and headed for places unknown. Harry didn't care to watch him go, nor did he care to watch "Emily" scurry after him. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Hermione sat upright in her bed with a mass of fluffy pillows behind her. She wore a gray plaid skirt and a periwinkle jumper that reminded him of the robes she'd worn during the Yule Ball. She flipped a book over in her hands and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.
"Hey, you," he said.
Her face broke into a grin and she looked up from her book. "Hi," she responded with a beaming smile. "I get to go home today!"
She looked like a third year at Honeydukes…or Hermione Granger in a bookshop. Her eyes sparkled and her smile was contagious. Harry couldn't help but chuckle.
"Yes, I know," he laughed. "That's why I'm here." He looked at his watch and checked it against the clock in the room before settling his eyes upon hers. "What's that?"
Hermione picked up the book and waved it in the air. "A book," she chirped. "Ron gave it to me."
She seemed to consider her words the second she said them. The smile slid from her face and she looked at him in question.
"So, do you care to tell me what yesterday afternoon was all about?"
Harry shrugged and walked over to her bed. Settling down beside her, he replied, "Not particularly."
Hermione scoffed and flopped back against the pillows. "That's what he said." Harry grinned. "Honestly Harry, this is ridiculous. If there's something the two of you are angry about, you need to talk about it! This isn't fourth year, you know! You are supposed to be adults. You should be able to discuss your problems…"
Hermione continued to talk, but Harry didn't hear much of what she said. She rattled on, waving her arms in the air and bobbing her head from side to side. Her eyes flashed and another wisp of hair escaped the clip at the nape of her neck. He'd spent a great deal of time over the past year trying to forget what she looked like. If it was possible, she was more beautiful than his biased musings remembered. His eyes drifted to the supple pink lips that continued to twitch and move as she reprimanded him. They shimmered from her lip gloss…raspberry? He longed for a taste.
"…Harry!" Hermione growled. "Have you heard a word I've said?"
Harry shook himself from the thought. "Er," he stammered, faking a cough for additional time. "Sure," he replied.
She crossed her arms across her chest. "Then what did I say?"
He felt like he was back in Snape's dungeon. He felt the flush betray him and looked away. "You…er," he groped. "You said I should talk to Ron."
"Yes, I did. But that was before you got all glazed over."
"What?" Harry rebuked. "I did not…"
"It's the same look you and Ron perfected at Hogwarts whenever I had something important to say," she countered.
Harry averted his eyes and picked at the bed coverings. "My mind might've wandered a bit."
"I know. You spewed me." She crossed her arms and the corner of her lip curled.
"I what?" Harry asked.
"That's what I named your not-listening-to-a-word-I'm-saying look."
They broke into laughter and Hermione slapped his shoulder with her book.
"Git," she giggled. Harry picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. Hermione snapped her hand from his and gave a half-hearted scoff. "Don't try and be charming now!"
"That's my job." Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck curl at the silky voice that nicked his line.
"That it is, Healer Morgenstern," Hermione said, looking over Harry's shoulder. It irritated Harry to see her expression brighten.
"I have your discharge papers," he announced, settling himself on the other side of her bed. "As I see you have your escort home," he bobbed his head toward Harry without looking at him, "I suppose I can let you out of my sight."
"I'm sure Harry can see me home as well as you have," she replied. Harry's heart flopped in his chest. He looked between Hermione and Morgenstern and felt jealousy prickle his temper.
"I'm sure he can," Morgenstern replied. "I just need you to sign here…and here," he directed, handing her an eagle feather quill from his robes.
She did as he requested and handed him the paperwork with a brilliant smile. "So, I'm free to go?" she rubbed her hands together.
"Free as a bird," he replied, placing the paperwork in her chart and snapping it closed. Hermione clapped her hands together and looked around the room. Her eyes stopped on the chair behind Harry and her intention became clear.
"Here," Morgenstern said, placing the chart on the bed and pushing his sleeves up his arms. "I'll help y…"
"I'll help her," Harry interrupted and swooped down on Hermione before Morgenstern could lay a hand on her. She looked between them with an amused expression and threw her arm around Harry's neck. He lifted her from the bed and turned toward her chair. Morgenstern stepped behind it and an unreadable expression crossed his brow. He held the chair in place while Harry settled her into it. She looked up as she adjusted herself in place and Harry felt her eyes moving between them. Not wishing to encourage another tongue lashing, he gathered himself and disengaged from the stare-down.
Hermione buried her forehead in her hand and giggled. That didn't help.
"If you two are…," she cleared her throat, "…finished, I need my bag." She pointed past Harry to the black duffle on the floor. He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder.
"Are you ready then?" Harry asked.
"I need my wand," she said, reaching for her bag.
"No, you don't," Harry replied, locking eyes with Morgenstern once more. "Not when you have me."
Harry stepped around the chair, repelling Morgenstern with his glare, and pushed her from the room. He reveled in his victory…one step too soon.
"Same time, same place, Hermione!" Morgenstern announced.
"Wouldn't miss it!" she called over her shoulder as the door closed behind them.
Harry had ample time to consider what Morgenstern meant as he pushed Hermione down the street. They didn't speak as she seemed to revel in the temperate weather. She dropped her head against the chair and turned her face skyward to the warming rays of the sun. Her hands hung lazily over the armrests and played with the wind as a breeze would blow by. She looked so content…peaceful. It sparked discomfort in Harry.
Now what?
Since his return to England, his days were scripted. Her health consumed his thoughts and her flat usurped his activity while she recuperated at St. Mungo's. Morgenstern gave her a clean bill of health upon her discharge and Harry found himself floundering for what to do next. Real life returned and Harry was ill prepared.
Although his vault at Gringotts made it a non-issue, Harry had no job which meant he had no excuse for how to spend his day. Furthermore, he didn't have a place to live. While finding a flat wouldn't be a difficult process, it would take more than the few hours remaining before nightfall and he'd swim through mystic eel slime before he'd swallow his pride and go to Ron's.
He wanted to stay with Hermione.
"Harry!" Hermione yelped as the chair dropped off the curb on to the street.
"Er, sorry," he apologized as he pushed her across the deserted intersection. He caught her eye and she dropped back against the chair with a smile.
"Daydreaming?" she inquired. "You've not said a word since we left."
"Neither have you," he responded. "Enjoying the weather?"
She smiled and nodded her head. "I think I'm just happy to be able to enjoy it."
She looked forward as Harry reached the other side of the street and popped the front wheels onto the sidewalk. He lifted the back wheels over the curb. She closed her eyes again and sighed. "I'm glad I have you to chauffeur me around. I can't tell you how annoying these curbs can be."
"I thought this thing was supposed to levitate over obstacles?" he asked, looking around the back of it for some indication that it was a magical device.
"Harry," she whispered. "This is muggle London. Even if I did use those blasted charms, which I don't, I couldn't use them here." She caught his eye and quickly added, "Not that it's a big deal."
"Why wouldn't you use them? They're cast to help you," he replied after a harried muggle man passed them.
"I get by perfectly well on my own, thank you. I don't need some rogue flying chair to chuck me out of the window when I'm not paying attention."
"But…," he began.
"And I have a beautiful flat on the first floor so stairs aren't an issue anyway," Hermione finished.
Harry understood his limitations, being of the male gender, when it came to judging all things "beautiful." But his opinion of the flat did not extend as far as hers. It was on the ground floor, but it failed the standard he would've set for his meticulous best friend. The lighting was not only dim but cast a sallow glow over the lounge. Without ample candlelight, he doubted her ability to read a book without getting a headache. By contrast, the fluorescent lighting in the galley kitchen reproduced the power of the sun and tainted the room with a lime hue. The clutter stacked in the corners drew attention to the flat's inefficiency. She had ample cabinet space…four feet out of her reach.
She deserved better than that.
He pretended not to notice the looks they received as he'd walked her home. Muggles of every variety, and a few obvious wizards who gasped after glimpsing his scar, noticed them as he pushed her down the sidewalk. Their expressions ranged the gamut of emotion. One woman, although probably well-intentioned, gave Harry a woeful smile as she looked between him and Hermione. Another older woman just stared at her until they'd passed. Harry maneuvered out of the path of two younger men who, amid their animated conversation, didn't notice her at all. One young girl was scuttled into a shop by her mother after she'd called out, "What's wrong with that lady, mum?"
Overall, Harry was glad Hermione's eyes were closed, although he wasn't naïve enough to think she didn't hear it, or see it, on the days that she traversed these streets alone. The thought of her, all alone, struggling with the chair down uneven pavement broke his heart.
She claimed she was independent and capable of tending to herself, but he didn't believe her. He didn't want to believe her. Her life should never have grown this complicated and he couldn't help but remember the reason she'd been injured in the first place.
But he knew he couldn't say any of that to her.
He'd not been back long, but he could see the fire in her eyes when she spoke of her independence. Be it fact or fiction, she intended to make the world believe she was as self-sufficient as ever. She made such a point of reiterating that fact; it convinced Harry of the opposite.
For better or worse, he'd always listened to his instincts. He'd only just begun listening to his heart. Both of them were screaming that Hermione needed help…and she'd never ask for it.
"Hermione?" he asked.
"Yes?" she replied, pulling her wand from the bag that swayed from the back of the chair. She muttered, "Alohomora," and the door clicked open. He pushed her through the entrance and closed the door behind him.
"I, er…hope you don't mind," he began. "I've been tending to your flat while you've been gone."
She waved her wand over the chair and rolled around the sofa. "I can tell." She smirked. "You put my books back on the shelf."
"Well, I was just trying to tidy up a bit," he answered.
"What are you saying?" she countered, turning herself around and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Er, nothing…," Harry replied, surprised by the irritation in her eyes. "I was just…I," he stammered, glancing around the room. "I got some flowers for you," he said, pointing to the arrangement he'd left on the table.
Hermione's shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry, Harry," she muttered. "You're just trying to be a good friend and I'm projecting my annoyance on you."
"What annoyance?" he asked, settling onto the sofa in front of her.
She dropped her eyes to her hands and fiddled with the leather padding on the arm of her chair. "It's not worth mentioning."
Harry slid forward to the edge of the sofa and grasped her hands. "Tell me," he prompted.
She sighed and slinked her right hand out of his grasp. Smoothing a lock of hair that hadn't escaped her plait, she shook her head in dismissal. He squeezed her hand and ducked his head to meet her eyes again. She smirked and pinned her chin to her chest.
"My parents," she answered.
"What about them?" Harry asked.
"They came to visit after you and Ron…." She hesitated. "Well, they want me to move back in with them." She pulled her left hand from his and unknotted the bottom of the plait. "Apparently," her voice grew agitated, "they don't think I can handle living alone." Her arms pulled at her hair with increasing vigor as she spoke. "I'm some helpless invalid that needs mummy to wash her backside and make her meals. Honestly! I'm a grown woman…aren't I?"
"Er, yes," Harry replied as he watched her aggravation blossom.
"Exactly! So what if I can't walk around like everyone else? I'm not helpless! I can take care of myself!" She ran her hands through her hair and pulled it back into a clip she snatched from the table. "Move in with them," she muttered. "Honestly."
"Well," Harry began, realizing the peril of his pursuit. "Wouldn't you like a little help every now and again?"
Her head snapped up and her eyes caught fire. "Not you, too!" She grabbed the wheels of her chair and shoved herself across the room. "It was an accident, Harry! It could've happened to anyone! It could've happened to normal people."
Harry winced at the implication. "Hermione," he interrupted.
"No! Don't patronize me. I am no different than anyone else." She bit. "I can live on my own as well as you, or Ron, or anyone else. I don't need my mummy or a man to help me. I don't need anyone!"
He could see her eyes glistening with tears of anger. Harry didn't know what to say. In his heart, he agreed with her parents, but he didn't dare tell her that after the outburst he just witnessed. He only wanted what he was sure they wanted; Hermione to be safe and well cared for. She'd done so much for so many, and now, when she needed something done for her, she refused to accept help.
"I appreciate everything that you've done for me," she mumbled.
Her abrupt change in demeanor caught Harry's attention. In a matter of seconds, she'd erected a fortress around herself. She forced a smile that did not meet her eyes and continued. "It's been a big day and I'm knackered. If you don't mind, I'm going to have a kip."
"I don't mind," Harry replied.
"So, I'll see you later?"
Harry's heart sank. Her intention was clear. He rubbed his palms along his trousers trying to find a reason to stay. She didn't flinch from her position across the room and the atmosphere grew awkward. He rose from the sofa and looked around for something, anything, to stall his departure. He looked back at her. Her jaw was set and her indignant expression etched itself into the subtle lines of her face.
"Good bye, Harry," she said with a mechanical smile.
Not having thought of a better reply, he fell victim to social acceptability. "Bye, Hermione."
As he closed the door behind him, he heard her fall apart.