Letters She Never Sent

Letters She Never Sent

H/Hr, PG (might eventually move to PG-13), spoilers for books 1-6

Author's Note: I'm still trying to make sense of Hermione's (to me) highly out of character behavior in Half-Blood Prince. I am finding it difficult to believe that the same girl who was Harry's closest friend and firmest supporter in OotP could have behaved toward him the way she did, without any explanation in the text. I believe that in HBP, JK Rowling failed to resolve or even mention some important plot points from OotP. In some ways HBP felt like JKR had never written OotP, which is sad, because OotP is my Harry/Hermione bible. This story is my attempt to come to grips with some of those dangling plot points and try to find some way past the R/Hr and H/G at the end of the book without totally ignoring the new canon. This is the first of a series of letters that Hermione writes to Harry but never manages to deliver to him. I don't quite know where this will end; I suspect I'll bring the letters to a close within a few months after the end of HBP. -- Anne U

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1.

11 July 1996

Dear Harry,

I hope this finds you doing reasonably well, all things considered. You and I never had the opportunity for a long talk after -- well, before we left school at the end of term. I know you didn't want to talk about it then and I probably can't blame you. The hurt and pain were too new and fresh then. Sirius was your godfather, not mine, but I did get to know him a bit over the past few years, and I could tell that being reunited meant the world to both of you. Sirius was brash and sometimes rash, and that, as well as his love for you, led him to try to help you in the Department of Mysteries. I know that one shouldn't speak ill of the dead, and I hope you don't think that's what I'm doing here. But I want to remind you that Sirius was a grown man, and it was his own decision to go to the Ministry that night. If the shoe had been on the other foot, and Sirius had reason to believe you were the one being tortured, do you think for one moment that he would not have come straight away to help? Of course he would have come. Though you never said this to me directly, I suspect you believe that you're responsible for Sirius' death. Please, Harry, please don't think that way. You didn't kill Sirius -- Bellatrix LeStrange did that. Please don't torture yourself with would have, should have, could have scenarios. Sirius is gone, and I think he would want you to mourn, but not wallow in depression or despair.

I hope that didn't sound cruel, but I thought it needed to be said, and who better to tell you than I? I've tried to be a voice of reason in your life for so long now, I can't remember when I didn't give you advice or lend you an ear -- as though you could ever stop me from doing so, you might as well ask me to stop breathing. Thinking about you and worrying about you is just part of who I am now. I'll never stop worrying about you, or wanting to help you, or wanting to keep you safe keep Voldemort away from you. (See, I can write the name perfectly well, although I still find myself stuttering a bit when saying it. I suppose I'll just have to practice saying it more often, won't I?)

When I was in the hospital wing last month, I learned something that surprised me. Neville told me about what happened after that Death Eater, Dolohov, struck me with that curse. Neville said that you panicked, that you couldn’t think straight. He said you thought I was dead, and yet you did nothing, just knelt there next to me as though you couldn't move. Neville said that when he found a pulse and showed you that I was still alive, you looked like you would faint. I suppose you would have had the same reaction if Neville, Ron, Ginny or Luna had been injured as badly as I was. Wouldn’t you have done? I can't quite understand why you reacted so strongly when I was struck down, compared with how you reacted to everyone else's injury. Were you really that worried that I'd been killed? Or was there something more?

What I'm trying to say, dear Harry, and not doing so well, is that, had the tables been turned, I'm sure I would have panicked just as much as you did. I can't even let myself consider that anything else could happen to you. You've been through so much already in the five years I've known you. From braving Quirrell to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone, to rescuing Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets, then rescuing Sirius and Buckbeak, then facing dragons, merpeople and finally Voldemort himself last year, you've shown time and again how incredibly brave you are, and how you put others' needs above your own. Your bravery and generosity are just two of the many reasons I love care for you. Last month, in the Hall of Mysteries, I noticed something that I'm not sure you're even aware of. Remember when the shelves started exploding and you told everyone to run? You grabbed my robes and pulled me along with you to safety. Did you know that you were actually closer to Ginny at that moment? But instead of pulling whoever was closest, you seemed to sense where I was and you pulled me. Ron ran past, but you pulled me along. I had no time to thank you then or to think about it at the time because we were too busy fighting for our lives. But I do want you to know that I'll never forget what you did, or that you were so upset when I was struck down a while later. In fact, whenever I think about that, I get a bit choked up.

Physically, I’m much better than when we left school, but still not up to snuff. I'm now taking only four potions every day to complete the healing of my internal injuries. I am still a bit tired, so Mum is making me get more sleep than usual; in fact, she's come into my room several nights at 10 o'clock and taken my book right out of my hands! Once a mother, always a mother, I guess. I'm still rather sore around my midsection, so I've not hugged anyone yet, certainly not the way I would like to. If you wondered why I didn't hug you at King's Cross last month, that's why. I really wanted to, but Madam Pomfrey was quite clear in telling me that I mustn't be overly affectionate with anyone for several weeks.

Ron and I have owled each other several times. He's slowly starting to feel better from the brain attack at the Ministry. He insists that the attack didn't harm him, but I'm not so sure. His letters sound a bit off.

This letter is becoming a bit rambly so I suppose I should finish up quickly. I just wanted you to know that I miss you terribly and hope to see you soon. I'll be going to the Burrow in a few days and hope you'll join us there in the very near future.

Love from,

Hermione

Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. Many thanks to my dear Bingblot for her encouragement on this project.

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2.

19 July 1996

Dear Harry,

Last week, I wrote a nice, long letter to you and somehow, in the bustle of getting ready to visit the Burrow, I neglected to mail it. Well, too late now I suppose. And now I'm not sure why I'm writing this letter. I really ought to just talk to you, since you're right here in the same house with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready to discuss this with you. I'm referring, of course, to what you told me and Ron the other day when you'd first arrived at the Burrow.

You told us that the prophecy hadn't been lost when it smashed in the Department of Mysteries, that Professor Dumbledore had told you its contents when he spoke with you after…well, after everything happened. Harry, when you said that you're "the one who has to finish off Voldemort" and that neither you nor Voldemort can live while the other survives, my heart dropped into my stomach. I suppose I must have looked frightened when you said that, but whatever my appearance was, I'm sure it showed less than one-tenth of the terror that seized me when I heard those words. Thinking back, I know that Professor Dumbledore must have talked to you about the prophecy while the rest of us were in the hospital wing having our injuries tended. Then, during the following week, you came and visited us while we were in hospital -- and you never said a word. I had wanted to talk to you about Sirius, but Ron always glared at me horribly any time I started to mention it. You seemed so totally lost, so unbelievably bereft. I assumed it was because of Sirius; his death, in itself would be more than enough for someone who's been through everything you've endured in your life. Now it occurs to me that your, well, depression (for lack of a better word) didn't stem only from Sirius being killed. Dear God, first you lost the closest thing to a parent you've had in years, then, an hour later, you were told that the fate of the Wizarding World rests on your young shoulders. How did you manage to eat, or sleep, or do anything a normal boy your age would do once you heard that news? Ah… I know, dear Harry…you didn't, but then you've never been a normal boy.

No, Harry, I wasn't exaggerating when I said "I know all about you" when we met on the Hogwarts Express five years ago. You were mentioned extensively in several books that I read after I received my Hogwarts letter. I knew before I met you that you must be truly special -- my goodness, you'd managed to thwart the most evil wizard of the age when you were just a baby! How could you not be special? Yet when I finally met you and started to get to know you, in lessons, I discovered that you knew even less about the magical world that I did. Being Muggleborn, of course my Hogwarts letter came as a great shock -- and in a way, a relief -- to my parents and me. But you -- the most famous boy in the Wizarding World, the Boy Who Lived -- knew next to nothing about magic or about why you were famous. So instead of being the insufferable git I expected, you turned out to be kind, sweet, gentle, friendly and caring. You cared so much, in fact, that you came after me in the girls' toilet that day in first year and rescued me from that troll. Yes, I know that Ron came too -- bless him -- but I realized years ago that Ron would never have come on his own; he thought I was a menace back then. Ron came because you insisted on helping a girl you barely knew, a girl who hid her insecurity behind a know-it-all façade. And that was the beginning of the deepest friendship I've ever had -- my friendship with you.

Harry, we've been through a lot together, you and Ron and I, over the past five years. Memories of our adventures are burned in my brain. How could I possibly forget Fluffy, the devil's snare, the giant chess game, the room of flying keys, the potions puzzle; Polyjuice potion and pipes, Parseltongue and Moaning Myrtle; Buckbeak and Sirius and the time turner and your Patronus; your shock and Ron's jealousy when your name came out of the Goblet of Fire, teaching you the summoning charm, you fighting the Hungarian Horntail (and how I ended up with fingernail marks on my face from worrying about you), the Second Task, the Yule Ball (though I'd rather forget my fight with Ron afterward), how you looked when you came out of the maze carrying Cedric's body; your horrible nightmares as Voldemort began to encroach on your dreams, the words I must not tell lies etched into your hand with your own blood, your triumph in the DADA OWL, then your collapse in our History of Magic OWL, facing Umbridge down, then our flight to London and the battle in the Department of Mysteries…. And then, when you needed me most, I wasn't there. I'd been struck down (through my own foolishness) and wasn't there when you had to face Voldemort. And all I could think afterward was, after all these years together, I'd failed you. I wasn't there when you needed me.

Now that you've told us about the prophecy, I feel as though everything has changed between us. All these years, I've felt like I was doing something important, helping you face each challenge as it came. We've been the Golden Trio - the hero, the sidekick and the brain. We were an equilateral triangle. You were at the apex, while Ron and I formed the base; in our different ways, we helped to keep you grounded in the midst of the insanity of your life. Until now, I almost felt like your equal. That probably sounds conceited of me, but honestly, you've never acted like you're my superior. I know I do better in lessons, but that's mostly because I apply myself much more than you do. I believe you have more native magical talent than I do, but then, I've always believed that you're a great wizard. But Harry, don't you see? The prophecy changes everything. You'll be learning things with Professor Dumbledore that, I'm sure, will never be available to me or to Ron. You'll be going down a road that, in the end, only you can follow. You and you alone will have to defeat -- kill -- Voldemort, or he will definitely kill you. That is your responsibility and your burden. I haven't figured out yet how I feel about that. I've always known you were special, but now, finding that you're a marked man is something I'd never really bargained for. Do you remember what happened right after you told us? Fred and George's stupid joke telescope punched me in the eye -- but it might as well have punched me in the stomach. I got a black eye that day, but it was nothing compared to the bruise on my heart. For the first time in five years, it finally dawned on me that, sooner or later, either you will kill Voldemort -- or he will kill you. And that, my dearest Harry, is something I cannot even contemplate. When it comes right down to it, I can't imagine my life without you. I can't imagine living in a world where you don't exist, where you're not one of the first people I see each day and one of the last I see at night, where I'm not standing at your side, meeting each new day and adventure as it comes. That's the difference between how I feel about Ron and how I feel about you. You're both my best friends. If Ron died, I'd be horribly sad, and I'd cry for a long time, but eventually I would be able to move on. But if you -- well, I don't know that I'd want to go on living.

So now you see my dilemma (or you would, if I had the courage to tell you this, which I don't). Since when have I had trouble telling you anything? Can you see how ridiculous this is? Learning about the prophecy has shocked me into realizing something I didn't think was possible -- that I probably care about you too much. Helping you, supporting you and being there for you have been my life for the past five years. Knowing that, despite my best efforts, there's a good chance you might be killed…I just can't deal with that. Not now. Not after everything we've been through. You mean too much to me. I can't let that happen, and yet, there's nothing I can do, personally, either to help you prepare for this or support you at that critical moment. So now, what use am I to you? Where do I fit in? I don't feel like there's a place in your life for me anymore. And I'm terrified that if I continue to let myself feel this way about you, my heart will end up in a million pieces. It won't be your fault, but it will happen anyway.

I will always be there to help you, Harry, if you need me. But I'm frightened that you won't need me anymore and that you'll find someone else to be your other best friend. Perhaps the best thing for both of us would be to keep a bit of distance this year, at least emotionally. I suppose only time will tell.

Love from your cowardly best friend,

Hermione