A/N: Here is the second installment, wherein laughter gives way to teary confessions, and the stage is set for the big climax. Thanks for your reviews and please enjoy.
Rescue Mission
Chapter 2: Truth, with Tears
"But, there must have been someone special among your conquests, or even some yet 'unconquered' woman worthy of special feelings," said Hermione.
A different dreamy expression appeared on Harry's face, but he said nothing. An awkward silence continued, during which Harry emptied the remaining contents of the bottle into their glasses. They exchanged smiles, and Harry got a thoughtful expression on his face. Hermione simply watched him.
Finally, Harry ended the silence so suddenly that his excited voice almost caused Hermione to drop her glass.
* * * * *
"HEY! I've got just the subject for your article, and it'll be an exclusive! How does 'Harry Potter's First and Only True Love' sound as a title, both to grab readers for Witch Weekly and to earn a nice pile of galleons for you?"
"It sounds interesting," said Hermione.
"It's more than interesting; it's perfect. Adding to its attraction are the facts that its author was both a classmate and one of the closest friends of the subject!" said Harry. "It's settled, then. So, how do we begin? Do you want to ask questions, or would you prefer for me simply to tell the tale first?"
"Why don't you begin the story, and I'll interrupt only if I think of a really important question requiring an immediate answer," said Hermione. "You don't mind if I use this Muggle micro-recorder, so you?" she added, removing the device from her purse and placing it next to the wine bottle on the low table in front of them. "Before you ask, it has been charmed to work in magical households." Just as she started to press the "record" button, Harry spoke.
"Okay, but wait just a minute," said Harry. "Before we start, let me take care of some pressing business. Would you care for some more wine?"
"I don't know . . . perhaps one glass. What else do you have?" asked Hermione.
"I do have another very special wine that is supposed to be quite nice, if you don't mind something that's sweet," said Harry.
"Alright," said Hermione. "Why don't you see if you can surprise me."
He picked up the empty DRC bottle and the glasses, went to the kitchen, and returned with two fresh bottles and another pair of glasses. After placing the glasses on the table, he held the first one up so Hermione could see it clearly.
"This is a fine imported California white, by the renowned vintner E. & J. Gallo, from its famous 'Thunderbird' vineyard, vintage, who knows or cares but probably a month ago or so," said Harry, grinning at her.
"You definitely have been dating bimbos with no taste, Potter! Pour that piss back into the dragon, and either cough up some more decent stuff, or I might just leave!" said Hermione.
"Would it be safe to assume that you have similar lofty opinions of Night Train Express, White Rocket, and Mad Dog 20/20?" Harry asked, with a wider grin.
"Hell, yes!" Hermione answered, "that is, no, I'm NOT interested in any of them unless I need to clean an oven or to remove some nail polish!"
"Thunderbird does quite a good job in removing old varnish from broom handles, too," said Harry, "however, I don't suppose Wild Irish Rose, Ripple, or generic muscatel would be appealing to your discriminating palate, would they?"
"I don't think so," she replied, laughing.
"The muscatel is in a very pretty cardboard and plastic three-liter box, but you're still saying 'no,' I guess? Obviously, it would be equally futile to offer Cisco, Sly Fox, Boone's Farm, or Bali Hai."
Hermione simply laughed harder.
"Well, that exhausts most of the contents of my cellar. However, I do happen to have another very nice French number, a modest little Bordeaux Sauternes, but it's only a half-bottle," said Harry, displaying it. "This is a 1975 d'Yquem, and it's supposed to be pretty nice stuff."
"My goodness! That's another of the most expensive wines made anywhere! The 'hospitality' rendered to Little Miss Gabrielle by 'Potter's Stud Service' REALLY must have been impressive!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Actually, this one was from Big Sister Fleur, and for God's sake, please don't tell any of the Weasleys about it. But . . . WHAT a witch!" said Harry, with both a large grin and a far away look.
"Come back down to earth, Harry, and please refrain from being so crude as to give yourself an erection in my presence . . . at least for a while, until I'm much drunker," said Hermione.
"I . . . uh . . . I'm sorry . . . " stammered Harry.
"I'm joking, Harry," said Hermione with a smile. "Nevertheless; a cad, a bounder, a rotter, what aren't you? When virgin schoolgirls aren't enough to slake your lust, you chase after the wives of friends, too!" exclaimed Hermione.
"Well, the roles of 'chaser' and 'chasee' were a touch ambiguous with Fleur. Anyway, she claimed that she was separated at the time," said Harry defensively, "and apparently she was . . . at least for that one night . . . and maybe a couple or four or five more evenings . . . but, it's over now!"
"Sure, Harry," said Hermione, with a wink. Then she wrinkled her nose and added, "by the way, you don't REALLY drink all of those . . . 'wines' that you mentioned, I hope?"
"Of course not!" said Harry. "It seems than when it became known that I appreciated fine wine, a couple of my friends, Dean and Seamus, who fancied themselves as great wits, but who only were half right, decided to give me an assortment of the world's finest skid-row libations as a birthday present."
Hermione giggled, and Harry went on.
"Basically, if it was over seventeen percent in alcohol and dirt cheap in price, or if it looked like soda pop, or if it seemed to belong in an old-fashioned barber shop with bottles of hair tonic, then I got one!"
"Then, you don't drink to excess, Harry?" asked Hermione, her concern evident. "It is quite easy to become . . . "
"An alcoholic?" Harry finished her question. Then, affecting a W. C. Fieldsian accent, he muttered, "my dear, it's easy to quit drinking; I've done it a thousand times!"
"It's NOT funny, Harry!" said Hermione.
"Sure, it is," said Harry. Continuing his impression of 'the Great Man,' "the most harrowing experience of my life occurred during one of my extended quests to track down the Dark Lord. I lost my corkscrew and was forced to survive ONLY on food and water for a entire week!"
Hermione stared at him, so Harry decided that a change of the subject might be in order. But first, he tried to reassure her.
"Hermione, each of us has had two full glasses of Burgundy, and we're about to have one glass each of this. Then, I promise you, the bar closes for the night . . . okay?"
She nodded in agreement.
"Let me try something, if you can keep a secret," said Harry.
He wriggled the fingers of both of his hands slightly, and the foil capsule seal bulged and then rose up and off the top of the wine bottle. Hermione gave a gasp. He moved his fingers again, and the cork also rose up and out of the neck, and then both flew into Harry's hands.
"Harry!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You're doing this sort of magic now without using either a wand or spoken words? Why didn't you use it earlier?"
"Well, I've had the occasional bottle or glass go a bit astray and break, and not always when I've been under the influence," said Harry. "I've been doing it for several years, but I never wanted to advertise the fact. There's no telling what sort of conniption fits those gits at the Ministry of Magic might have if they knew. Besides, Mr. Ollivander is a kindly old soul, and I've no desire to ruin his wand business."
"But, Harry, this is really important!" Hermione began.
"It's also potentially very troublesome," Harry interrupted. "One night I was, er, entertaining a Muggle lady guest, and after having had more than a few drinks, I forgot her non-magical nature and accidentally summoned another bottle from the kitchen. I've never seen any woman move so fast to leave, screaming like a banshee all the way down the hall to the elevator." He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he added, "of course, it probably didn't help matters any when I charmed her blouse and skirt to chase after her."
"But, Harry - " Hermione tried again.
"Please, Hermione, let's drop it for now," said Harry, as he poured the golden wine into the two new glasses, and then handed one to her.
They sipped the thick, sweet, golden elixir in silence for a minute or so.
"Damn if this isn't pretty good stuff," said Harry, smacking his lips.
"You are an uncultured barbarian!" replied Hermione. "This is a hell of lot more than 'good stuff!' It's fantastic! Someone once poetically described tasting a great Sauternes as being the closest thing possible to 'drinking flowers,' and I do believe that he was correct."
"I said that it was good, and I wonder how it would do as an ice cream sundae topping," said Harry.
"You're hopeless, Potter," Hermione began, but then she noticed his smile and his winking eye. "You lousy prat! Are you pulling my leg?"
"No, but I wouldn't mind doing so later, once I've gotten you drunk enough. I confess that even I would not use anything that costs a galleon per spoonful as an ice cream topping," Harry replied with a grin.
"Try it this way, Harry," said Hermione, and she took a sip, tilted her head back slightly, closed her eyes, and began to wriggle her tongue around just behind her pursed lips as she sucked in air.
Harry almost dropped the bottle that he had just picked up to refill their glasses.
"HERMIONE! That looks almost obscene!" he exclaimed. "Must you demonstrate to me your collection of off-color facial expressions?"
"Oh! Am I getting 'The Great Bedroom Wizard' all worked up?" Hermione said, and then she smiled and added, with a deadpan expression, "I'm truly sorry if I accidentally turned on your 'love engine' prematurely, Harry."
Harry emptied the small remains of the half-bottle into their glasses and sighed.
Ignoring her last gibes, he said, "as is usual, Miss Granger, you are correct. This stuff really is fantastic, and to my taste, it's much better than any dry white Burgundy, no matter how expensive or great it's supposed to be. Of course, recalling the sources of the two bottles, I'd have to admit that Fleur also was a good deal better than was young Gabrielle!"
"Spare me any further reminiscences of your sordid behavior with loose women," said Hermione.
"Well, to be sure, neither was a virgin, but to be fair, I wouldn't call either of them 'loose' exactly," said Harry.
"STOP!" said Hermione, trying hard to glare at Harry, who tried to glare back. Then both of them burst out with laughter.
"Okay, okay, you win! Where were we? Oh, of course, the story. Here we go," said Harry. Hermione reached down and started the recorder.
"Harry Potter's First and Only True Love," he said, clearing his throat, "as told to Miss Hermione Granger."
"She must have been Ginny!" interjected Hermione excitedly. "No, I bet Cho was the one! Or, could Parvati have been - "
"HOLD IT, Miss 'I'll-Interrupt-Only-If' Reporter," said Harry. "Am I going to tell my story first or not?"
"I . . . you're right. Please go on, and I promise to be quiet," said Hermione.
"Now THAT'S about as likely as the sun rising tomorrow in the west," said Harry, "or Snape shampooing his hair!"
"I promise," said Hermione. "Please continue."
"Fine. Here goes," said Harry.
"First, before revealing the name of the woman who was my first and only true love, some background information not well known to the general public will be helpful. While I was a student at Hogwarts, my close physical resemblance to my father, James Potter, was noted repeatedly by everyone who knew him. But, we were so very different in most other ways."
"He was born into an old wizarding family, and I was raised as a Muggle. In fact, I was aware neither of the magical world in general, nor of my personal background in particular, until only shortly before I entered Hogwarts."
"By all accounts, my father was extraordinarily gifted in magical abilities, so much so that while in his early to mid-teens, he and some of his schoolmates were able both to teach themselves animagus abilities, and to create an extremely powerful new magical object. In addition, he was a fairly talented Quidditch player, and he managed to engage in all sorts of creative mischief making. With the notable exceptions of my defensive abilities against the Dark Arts and my natural flying and Quidditch skills, I was pretty much an average student in most other areas of magical study."
"One enormous difference between us was that my father was proud of and even reveled in his abilities. He did so even to the point of being, to put it charitably, a conceited showoff, at least through his fifth or sixth years of school. By some accounts, he also spent a good part of those two years not only attempting to get, but succeeding to a surprising degree in getting, into the beds and bodies of a fair number of his female schoolmates. On the other hand, I remained a virgin through my fifth year due to my lack of developed social skills and of confidence with girls. I left Hogwarts two years later still a virgin, due to my very painful conscious choice not to endanger the girl I secretly loved or any other by getting involved seriously with her."
"My father became utterly changed in personality and behavior for one reason, his love for his fellow student and my future mother, Lily Evans. She was more than a match for him in magical ability, in pure intelligence, and in strength and quality of her character. Undoubtedly, an additional attraction for him was her extraordinary beauty. James simply never had met any other girl who refused to be seduced quickly and easily by his personal charm. He changed into a genuinely decent man because he could not win her unless he did so, and after he changed, from his seventh year in school until his death, he never so much as looked at another woman."
Harry paused, took a few sips of wine, and then addressed Hermione.
"What, no questions yet? Well, I'll offer a few clues before continuing. To the best of my knowledge, the girl I loved never knew it, although she might have suspected something. We never kissed in a serious way even once, but still, I really loved her, my one true love."
"She was neither an 'older woman' of sixteen or seventeen when I was a youngster of eleven or twelve, nor was the opposite the case. In short, we were of about the same age, and I was attracted to her at first sight, because she was so striking in her personality and in her looks. She continued to grow prettier every year that I knew her."
"As I hinted already, I made the deliberate decision during my last two years at Hogwarts not to try to get involved physically with the one I loved, or even to inform her of my feelings. This was because at the very end of my fifth year, I was informed by Headmaster Dumbledore of the exact nature of the famous prophecy thought to have been lost forever only recently before, during the famous battle in the Department of Mysteries."
Harry paused again, and then he said to Hermione, "here is the first part of your news scoop."
"While the record of the prophecy, in the form of a glass sphere, had been destroyed, its information still was readily available, because the original prophecy had been spoken to Dumbledore himself! Reduced to basics, the prophecy indicated that I was destined to kill Voldemort or to be killed by him. Given the increasing power of the psychic connection between Voldemort's mind and mine, he would have detected instantly any new strong bond that I made with another person. Further, given that Voldemort also was aware of the main part of the prophecy, it is not difficult to guess how he would act toward anyone he knew to be special to me. Under no circumstance could I dare to endanger anyone, least of all the one person I loved most."
"You see, I already knew that I was responsible for the death of Sirius Black, my godfather, and even worse, the prophecy itself proved that my birth was the root cause of the chain of events that led to the deaths of my parents. Add to the death toll, or to a related list of close calls for which my very existence was partially responsible, the names of Cedric Diggory, Arthur, Ginny, and Ron Weasley, and even yours, Hermione."
"Harry, you were NOT responsible, and you shouldn't feel responsible for what happened!" Hermione interrupted.
"That's quite easy to assert or even to believe intellectually, but emotionally, in my heart, I cannot help but . . . " Harry started to say, but then he shrugged and continued the story.
"Consider for a moment all that had happened to me through my first five years in school. Add to it the absolute certainty that I would become either a murderer or a murder victim in the not so distant future, and ask yourself what would any fifteen-year-old do? It should be understandable why I could not bear even the possibility that I might contribute in any way to any harm to yet another person, least of all to her, my one true love."
Harry paused yet again, choking back tears, and he was gratified to see that Hermione seemed to be equally as affected.
"Harry, you've explained why you had to do what you did, but Voldemort and his followers now are gone forever. They can't harm either you or her at all!" said Hermione, sniffling, and trying mightily to hold back her own tears. "Is she still alive?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Is she still as pretty as you remembered her to be?"
"Yes, with a qualification. She's even more beautiful today."
"Do you know where she is? Is she married to someone else?"
"Yes and no."
"Do you still love her?"
"Yes, and I always will," replied Harry.
"Well, why don't you go to her and explain things just as you have to me?" asked Hermione, somewhat exasperated.
"Oh, I shall, and fairly soon I think," said Harry. "But, you're distracting me. I haven't quite finished the story yet."
"By all means, do so," said Hermione, now literally sitting on the edge of the sofa.
"There remains the answer to the question of why I never made my feelings known to her earlier, during my fourth or fifth years, before I learned of the prophecy, but after both of us were, to put it delicately, physically able to have become involved. It was not due to my lack of social graces or of confidence, which were effects rather than causes of the real reason, which was simple cowardice."
"Harry, that's not possible," said Hermione.
"Ah, but it is, or rather, it was," said Harry. "In fact, it was a distinct lack of courage of several different sorts on the part of 'the bravest boy in the world.' By the way, that's the second of what will be three parts of your news scoop. The young lad who could and actually did face down and best Voldemort on a number of occasions, including once as a baby and twice more even before his teen years, in fact was scared to death of the beautiful girl he secretly loved."
"The first and a less significant sort of cowardice was that paradoxically I was petrified that if I made my feelings known, then she might have indicated that she felt the same! Inevitably, it would have followed that I, or worse, that she might suggest that we find for ourselves a somewhat private place with a reasonably soft surface and fuck each other senseless! Reduced to its simplest, I was deathly afraid that as a lover, I wouldn't be able to fulfill her expectations."
Harry paused and smiled, and Hermione smiled also.
"Now, THAT is a scoop! Can it be true that Harry Potter, the Star Stud of the magical world tabloid press and the breaker of innumerable feminine hearts, once was unsure of his bedroom skills?" asked Hermione, laughing.
"You're welcome, and it is, and it was," said Harry. "A second superficial type of cowardice was that I genuinely feared that my one true love might have refused to believe me. To be blunt, she might have thought that I was just a randy teenaged male trying to get into her knickers."
At this, Hermione smiled and nodded her head in understanding.
"It's time to describe the most important type of cowardice, which also will reveal the identity of my first and still my only true love, the third and the biggest news scoop for your story. Are you ready for the ultimate truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, Miss Reporter?"
"I am, so get on with it," said Hermione.
Harry took a last sip of wine and put down his glass. He sat back down on the sofa next to Hermione.
"This form of cowardice involved the possible consequences if my loved one did not reciprocate my feelings. But, it was not that she might say that she didn't feel attracted to me, or that while she was attracted to me, she didn't feel ready yet to get involved physically. While such conversations would have been embarrassing, and might have caused some awkwardness between us for a while, they did not frighten me."
"You see, in spite of how wonderful and beautiful in so many different ways that she seemed to be to me, she did have some problems of her own. She was insecure to the point that she felt that she had to prove herself constantly, usually in the classroom, and sometimes in trying to be a mother figure to her friends. Possibly it was because she was Muggle-born, or maybe it had some other cause."
Harry slid closer on the sofa to Hermione, and he wrapped one arm around her back.
"Have you guessed her, my one true love's, name yet?" asked Harry. "You should have, because I've mentioned it several times, including in the last sentence! But, I might have mispronounced it, almost as a foreigner unfamiliar with English names might have done."
Hermione felt confusion at first, and then amusement, as she recalled Viktor Krum's mangling of her name, "Herm-own-ninny," ten years ago. Then, she felt a rushing in her head and a chill up and down her spine, as she was jolted back to the present by her recognition of the first three words of the slightly stilted phrase that Harry had used several times, "her, my one true love." Was he really saying her name as "HER-MY-ONE," which was how some folks, and not just foreigners, occasionally mispronounced it, or was this choice of words purely coincidental? But, before she could answer, he continued.
"Also, she had an issue with her own physical self-image. For some utterly inexplicable reason, she saw herself as being plain and ordinary, but she could not have been more wrong from my point of view. I was attracted to her, my one true love, from the moment when I met her on my first train ride to school."
As Harry's words sunk in, Hermione felt both her face start to flush and her chest begin to pound. "Harry," she said, and she dropped her head and began to cry.
"Only two months later, I KNEW that I loved her," Harry continued, hugging Hermione closer. "It happened when she did one of the bravest things I have ever seen. She was lonely and had been so since the beginning of the school term. She had been hurt and put into serious danger by a couple of her classmates. Yet, she had the extraordinary courage to offer to them the most precious thing she possessed, her unconditional loving friendship."
Harry put his hand under her chin, lifted it, and looked straight into her tear-filled eyes.
"What scared me so terribly was not that you would have rebuffed my certain-to-be-clumsy romantic advances, but that you might have ended that simple but wonderful human friendship."
Harry kissed her gently, barely brushing his lips against hers.
"To answer some of your earlier questions more fully; yes, you are very much alive, and definitely, you are more beautiful now than ever. Most certainly, I do know where you are, which is in my arms at this very moment. Lastly, I do still love you very much, and I want to prove it to you, if you'll let me."
He embraced Hermione, and when she buried her face in his shoulder and began sobbing, he simply hugged her more tightly, and stroked the back of her head.
After several minutes, which seemed like hours, Hermione's crying subsided.
"My first and only true love," said Harry "is there any possibility that you ever can forgive me for being the most inconsiderate fool and the biggest idiot who ever lived?"
"Maybe . . . if you . . . " Hermione said, and she pulled herself away from his embrace.
"Anything!" said Harry.
"Well . . . first, I have a confession of my own," said Hermione. "I . . . I . . . I always felt the same about you from that very first day on the train! BUT," she continued, showing a little anger, "you never said or did anything bout your feelings! Do you have any idea of how many nights I cried myself to sleep during our sixth and seventh years because I was worried sick for you, and I was afraid that you didn't care for me?"
"I thought I explained that after I heard the prophecy - " began Harry.
"But I didn't know that THEN! Even though I do understand about that time now, what about before then?" said Hermione. "Also, I refuse to accept your claims of cowardice as having any relevance today! There's only one way that I can forgive you, which is for you to tell me now what you wished you had said when we were younger."
"I thought I just did," said Harry quietly.
"You did, but only in a very roundabout way. Anyway, I want to hear it again, just as you would have said it," said Hermione, attempting a weak smile.
"But . . . of course, you have every right," said Harry, smiling himself. "Let's see, to do this correctly, may I just kneel, or should I prostrate myself before Your Ladyship?"
"Shut up, and speak to me," said Hermione, now definitely smiling, "if you understand the intent of that logical contradiction."
"Okay, here goes," said Harry, trying to control his laughter. "Hermione, we've known each other and have been the best of friends for quite a while, and there is something special that I must share with you."
"Yes, Harry, and what is it?" asked Hermione. "By the way, have you finished tomorrow's homework?"
"Bugger tomorrow's schoolwork, 'Mummy!' I've got something much more important to say. Hermione, I've fallen in love with you. You're the most fantastic and wonderful and beautiful girl I've ever known, and I want . . . I want you to know that I think . . . I want . . . I . . . " said Harry.
"What exactly are you trying to say?" asked Hermione.
"Well . . . uh . . . I think we should . . . uh . . . expand our friendship," Harry mumbled.
"Do you mean that you want to date me?" said Hermione.
"Uh, I had some other things in mind also. I would like to date you, to hold your hands while I kiss you, and . . . and I'd like to do so much more," said Harry. "I want to hold more than just your hands, and I want to kiss more than just your lips. I want to . . . to . . . "
"Are you trying to say that you want . . . to feel me up, to get into my knickers and . . . and . . . and TO SHAG ME, Harry?" said Hermione.
"Well . . .er, uh . . .yes and no," said Harry.
"Hmmm. It seems to me that it must be EITHER yes OR no," said Hermione.
"I meant yes AND no," said Harry. "No, I do not want simply to shag you. No, I do not want simply to make love TO you. But, YES, I do very much want to make love WITH you!"
"Good grief, Harry! That is a truly wonderful way to put it," said Hermione. "Did you actually make that up yourself, or did you steal it from some writer?"
"Look, Hermione, if you don't feel like doing anything now, or if you don't feel ready, or if you want to wait until you're married, or even if you don't like me enough, then just say 'no,' and we can still be the best of friends, can't we?" said Harry.
"Of course, we can, IF I say no," said Hermione. Then, she got a serious look on her face, grasped Harry's head in both of her hands, and kissed him quickly. "But, I'm NOT saying no!"
"Uh, that's great," said Harry.
After taking a deep breath, Hermione looked directly at him and said, "Harry, is there 'a somewhat private place with a reasonably soft surface' where we can go right now?"
To be continued
A/N: The interesting wordplay conceit of "her, my one (true love)" = "her-my-one true love" = "Hermione, true love" was the actual initial inspiration for this story, which was then built around it. I don't remember exactly from where the idea came originally, though it might have been from an old interview with JKR, which related different mispronunciations heard by the author. Two chapters are down, and there's one to go, in which Harry and Hermione will have some laughs and finally will "get together," in every sense of the words.