Chapter 1 : The Unexpected Invitation
Three years had been quite a long time to be detached from a friend. Especially a friend you were so very close to. As much as I hated to admit it, it was my choice to begin with. I was the one who decided to distance myself from him, I was the one who was too wrapped up in my own life to notice his cries for help.
Every night, I would wish that Harry would just open the door to my room and declare that I had made such a mistake. But I knew he wouldn't. I had to keep telling myself that any desire I had for him laid forgotten, along with our friendship.
Call me crazy, but throwing away a friendship was a pretty selfish and stupid thing to do. But he probably didn't think so, at the time. Noone could ever prove me wrong, and so maybe the reason he hadn't stopped me was because he figured I was right, like I always was.
Well, being right is over-rated. A joy which sweeps through you for only seconds.
Now that I look back on things, that joy of being right was nothing compared to the joy I would've had, admitting I was wrong and getting Harry instead.
Feeling sorry for myself had become a natural occurrence for me lately. Maybe it was because I had seen something that reminded me of him. God, everything reminded me of him. But one particular thing I had, reminded me of him the most.
The golden snitch he gave to me.
One small gesture, meant so much. It was as if a promise was stained to the wings of the snitch itself, a promise that gleamed in the shine of the gold, his promise to give the world to me.
After his last match on the Gryffindor team, in seventh year, he dismounted his broom, and I was honoured to be the first person he ran to, even though the whole population of the stands was spilling out onto the pitch. None-the-less, he ran to me. He picked me up and twirled me in the air, gently touching me back down on the ground, he handed me the snitch quickly and winked, placing a finger to his lips, gesturing for my silence.
Who knew that three years later, after he defeated Voldemort, the promise stained on the wings of that never-again air-born snitch would vanish without a trace.
When I saw the snitch in the pocket of a pair of his old jeans, at that moment, my tears betrayed me and burst the boundaries of my eye. Why was I so down about all of this? It was all for a greater good. He would live his life, away from me. He would be happy, he would love again, and I would be reduced to tears every time the memory of him crossed my mind. But I had to wonder...
Was it really for the greater good?
I shook the thought out of my head and went about my day, pushing his now faded memory out of my head.
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Two weeks later, and I was sitting in a café in the center of London.
The hustle and bustle seemed as if it was trying to engulf the walls of the tiny café, but it wouldn't let it. The air smelled sweet, the place was peaceful, and a cup of coffee in my hands made them warm.
I peered out of the big glass window in front of me, watching the traffic conjested road as cars stopped momentarily in front of the street lights.
People crowded the foot paths, some walking hand in hand, others walking a distance apart, all with their own destination in mind.
I honestly thought my eyes had deceived me. I blinked as I watched a dark-haired man walk passed the cozy café, in which I currently resided in. But he stopped, looked up at the sign, and made his way in.
That's not... Could it be... H-Harry?
I looked at him carefully.
There he was, 'the boy who lived', walking right passed me and sitting down at a table nearest the other front window of the shop, all by himself.
He was truly amazing. His eyes twinkled with a boyish glint I thought had long gone. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. His cheeks were slightly red from the bitter wind outside, and his smile was infectious.
I had to go over to speak with him -- to see him look at me one last time.
And before my mind could speak against it, I was up out of my chair, my mug of coffee set on the table. I walked over to him, halting a few feet away from where his back faced me slightly, my mind arguing furiously with the feeling of joy that swelled inside of me.
"Harry?" My lips uttered before my mind could catch up, and stop them.
He turned around. For a moment, I thought I had seen the same seventeen year old Harry Potter I knew... My Harry Potter. But that Harry Potter was gone now.
He looked at me for a loss of words. His mouth dropped, his eyes widened, and he clutched his heart in surprise. "Hermione?" He said, almost not believing himself.
I nodded smilingly, "Unless you know another Hermione who's directly behind me." I said, chuckling softly.
"Sit! Sit!" He said, gesturing the chair in front of him.
I did so, looking at him slightly, as if he was a figment of my imagination.
"It has been too long!" He said enthusiastically, "Where have you been? I thought you had moved to Bulgaria with Krum!" He finished, still shocked.
"Krum and I didn't work out. I never even moved. I still have the same flat on Queen's Street." I said, smiling slightly.
"You mean to tell me that you didn't move at all, and this is the first time I've actually bumped into you in three years? Where have you been hiding!?" He said jokingly, laughing slightly, the surprised glint never leaving his eyes.
"Well, I've been rather busy. I work as a healer, part time, in..." I leaned in to his face and whispered, "In St. Mungo's." I finished, leaning back, Harry nodded knowingly.
"I always knew you had it in you!" He smiled joyously. "Ron would be absolutely shocked to see you! You know, we must all get together soon, you know, for old time sake, eh? What do you say?" He asked giving me a look I couldn't say no to.
"Sure! When, and where? I'll make sure I'm free," I said, smiling to him. I went back to my table, grabbed my purse, and coffee and came back, sitting down again, across from him.
"How about... This Saturday night at ten o'clock? We'll meet at the little pub I saw just on my way here, Kingsmith's?" He said, as I pulled out my day planner. He smiled when the cover of it was exposed. "I always pictured you with a day planner. You being so organized." He murmured chuckling more to himself then to me.
I looked up from its pages and smiled, pulling a pen out of my pocket. I thumbed my way through the pages and saw that Saturday was completely free. I grinned looking back up at him, "Well, Mr. Potter... It seems that I might be able to, squeeze you in!" I said in a playful, business-like, tone.
"Well, Ms. Granger, I am delighted!" He replied, in the same playful, business-like tone, smiling at me boyishly. "We have a lot of catching up to do!"
As much as I wanted to stay with him, I knew that if I didn't go, I would ruin this perfect moment, that I wanted to hold forever in my heart.
"Anyway, Harry, I've got to run! I have some last minute shopping to do!" I said a little too quickly. And with that, I picked up my coffee, knocked back the last swallow, pulled out my wallet, got up, and placed the money I owed on my table, leaving with a quick wave and grin back at Harry.
The events of that day were quite unexpected.
An invitation from an old friend sent me soaring for the rest of the day. I couldn't come back down. That entire day was absolutely perfect. Everything fit into place, as if a jigsaw puzzle, and all I was left to do was wait. I just had to wait for three more days until it came.
And I did so...
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Saturday finally arrived, in a blur of potions, shopping and healer duties.
I found myself standing infront of my bathroom mirror, a blue tank top clashed nicely with a black jean skirt as I undid the cap to my strawberry lip gloss. My mind raced as I smeared it carefully on my relaxed lips.
Why did he want to meet me after three years? What if he's not single? What if I was supposed to bring a date? Oh, God I'm going to look foolish if I don't bring a date!
But I had no time for that now. With a flick of a light switch, a mad dash for my purse and keys, a bolt across the room, a close of the door, and I was gone...
Fifteen minutes later I stepped out into the shadows of my street. Walking was the best way to go, considering driving would be a nightmare in the traffic. I took a moment to draw in the city air, and breathe it back out again.
Tonight, was going to be a good night. Come what may tomorrow. Bring rain, snow and sleet. But nothing was going to ruin this night...
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Twenty minutes later, and fate had brought the snowstorm, in the form a of a skinny blonde tramp wearing a short skirt and a halter.
She sat beside Harry, her arm laced around Harry's shoulder as I slithered my way through the crowded bar, thick with puffs of cigarette smoke, boozers and old folk music. Why Harry had asked me to come here, I'll never know.
"Harry!" My voice croaked over the music once I reached the table. Thankfully he spotted me, no way was I to compete with the booming music.
"Hermione!" He grinned his old lop-sided grin. "Have a seat!"
I was quite pleased when he pushed the bimbo away from him to make room for me. I took a seat and saw, sitting across from me, Ronald Weasley. He hadn't changed much. He looked more grown up and all, but like Harry, he still had the boyish glint hidden behind his glassy eyes.
"Blimey!" Ron said once I sat across from him. His eyes became as big as saucers. "So Harry wasn't kidding then!"
"I guess things never change!" I said smiling back at him, practically roaring over the music. "Blimey is still you're chosen greeting!" I laughed, and Harry joined in, nudging me gently on the shoulder.
"So! How have you been, Herm?" Harry asked, then he winced slightly as if regretting what he had just said, "Sorry, I mean how've you been Hermione..." He corrected, catching the barman's eye and waving more drinks over to the table.
"Oh, no, it's cool!" I laughed in a relaxed manor, "People still call me 'Herm'," I finished, Harry nodding in remembrance. "Anyway, I've been good... As I said before, quite busy!" Yes, busy thinking about you! "So, how've you both been?! It's been three years and you guys already seem so...different!" I said enthusiastically, looking at Ron's stubbled face and Harry's new square rimmed glasses.
They both difinately looked different.
Harry had broader shoulders, all of those years of quidditch, really did him good. His muscled arms were bare up to the sleeve lines of his t-shirt. His expression was joyous, and laid back, his hair was still as messy as ever, his famous scar still peaking through his bangs. But most of all, he looked genuinely happy. Something I hadn't seen in a long time.
Ron, still had his messy flaming red Hair. He was as freckled as ever, but they seemed to suit him now. He no longer looked slightly out of place. Every limb on his body look properly proportioned and he also, had broad shoulders and a laid back grin.
"Well, Harry and I are on the English team," Ron said winking smartly.
I knew straight away which team he was talking about. It was as if it was a wizarding code, we all knew what the other was saying, while a muggle didn't. "That is great you guys! Are you seeing anyone?" I blurted out before my mouth could stop me. My lips curled in and my face made a slight wince at my stupidity.
Ron went slightly flushed, but Harry just grinned at Ron's reaction, not showing one of his own, really.
"Well, there is this one girl... She's pretty special..." Ron said, taking a shy sip of his beer.
"Oooooh!" I said playfully, a wicked grin spreading across my face.
"Oh, come on Ron! You shared a pizza with her! That's special!" Harry said teasingly, punching a playful fist into Ron's shoulder, the other hand occupied a half-empty beer bottle.
For some reason, I had to push this matter further -- get an answer out of Harry. "What about you Harry?" I said quickly, looking at him over my drink that was just brought over by the barman. I took a deep sip from the glass, not knowing exactly what it was, but knowing it contained alcohol.
"No - no... Not attached. I'm more of a, bachelor!" He said grinning, before taking another sip from his beer bottle.
Ron leaned over the table and pretended to whisper something urgent to me, looking back at Harry over his hand every few seconds as if he wasn't allowed to hear. "Harry isn't much of a 'one-woman-man', you see." Ron said matter-of-factly.
I nodded knowingly and pulled back, taking another sip of 'who-knows-what'. "Ah well, I'm sure you've had one steady relationship since I've last talked to you!" I said with all of the mock sadness I could muster. Really, my stomach was dancing inside. He was un-attached! He was un-attached! So what if he wasn't a one-woman-man!?
Harry suddenly looked slightly solemn. He looked down at the beer-bottle in his hand and looked up at me, his head still pointing downwards.
This can't be a good sign.
He cleared his throat, concentrating on the beer bottle, now twirling it slightly in his hands. "N-no... Never had a serious relationship. Not after the one I had with..." A pause, "You..."
My stomach did another flip, but my heart went out to him at the same time. I could tell this was my fault, and possibly the way he was now, - not committing to one relationship - that was my fault too.
"Well! It's good to see you two again!" I said cheerily, patting Harry on the knee and smiling. I suddenly realized what I was doing, and pulled my hand away quickly as if it caught fire, a tingle being sent up my arm in the process. This was going to take weeks of therapy to recover from... And I didn't even go to a therapist!
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Three hours later, and as pissed as ever, Harry and I were leaving the bar. Ron had went home an hour before, saying he was going to his girlfriend's house.
Both Harry and I stayed, consuming more alcohol and remembering the 'good old days'. But it was funny... I never had to get so pissed I threw up several times to remember the 'good old days' before.
Harry and I were arm in arm, walking zig-zag down the street, and we were not a pretty sight. All I remember is going back to my flat with him in tow and crashing out on the couch.
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The next morning, I woke up to the smell of eggs and a pounding headache.
My eyes flew open and I realized I was in my place, in my bed. I looked over at the empty place beside me and saw that it had been slept in. This was not a good sign. I looked under the covers and saw that my skirt, tank top and shoes were still fully intacted, and my heart went back to its normal rate.
I pushed the covers off of me and got out of bed, clutching my head in agony in the process. Who ever invented hangovers was going to be getting a kick up the ass from me personally.
I stumbled out of my bedroom door, light-headedly made my way to the kitchen and plopped down on a chair at the kitchen table. I looked over at the stove, and sure enough, there was Harry, cooking eggs.
I looked at him carefully, "How did I start out on the couch and end up in the bed?" I said thickly, yawning and stretching all the while.
"I carried you into the bed... I figured, since I was the guest, I would take the couch." He said, smiling at me from his place beside the stove.
He was such a gentlemen.
"But the place beside mine looked slept in." I blurted out, wincing simultaneously at my increasing stupidity.
You USED to be the brightest witch of your age, damnit! Look what's happened to you! One - nil to the world!
Harry looked at me slightly bewildered and all I could do was smile awkwardly, back. Then a look of understanding dawned on his face and he blushed slightly.
"You were hugging onto me as you slept, I was merely trying to de-tangle myself from your grasp," He said matter-of-factly, still blushing slightly.
"Right." I nodded, not completely buying it, but not daring to say so. "Thank you, Harry." I added softly, smiling at him genuinely this time.
He turned around and looked back at me carefully, returning my smile shyly. The look he gave me, took me right back to a day long ago, when we resided in the walls of Hogwarts.
I shook my head slightly and bracingly, pulling myself back to the present.
Those times are gone now. That Harry is dead and buried. You are two different people, living two different lives, and quite frankly, those desires lay forgotten.
But was I really right? Were my thoughts correct? Was it true, or did I just want to make myself believe that it was true? I honestly didn't know at that moment what I was truly doing. It was as if the last three years of my life I had lived as a dead person. And here, Harry was, suddenly breathing life into me.
Although, I had to admit, he was the kind of friend that did that. He was the kind of friend that would pull you up when you fell down. The kind of friend that was there for you every step of the way.
For once in my life, I wasn't too mature, or busy to see that. Now, suddenly everything was so clear...
When Harry spoke next, he completely pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Hey, what are friends for, right? Isn't that like one of the rules of friendship? 'Thou shalt not get his friend pissed, and leave them to humiliate themselves'?" He said, looking at me and chuckling, his cute lop-sided grin spreading across his mouth and becoming infectious.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." I said, smiling back.
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