Chapter 8
Harry walked down the hallway, heading towards the visiting room to meet with Hermione. He had been at the rehab center for almost two months now, Harry had been feeling a vague sense of peace that he had not felt in a long time. Although he still had this nagging concern for Ron, he was happy with his life at the moment. He couldn't help but feel that everybody had been right all along that he needed a rest.
He had been spending a lot of time writing in his journal everyday. He had already filled one of the composition books they had given him, and was well into his second one. Usually he wrote while listening to one of the numerous cds that Alex had lent him. Peter would be sitting on his bed, usually working on some art piece.
Harry had also taken up reading novels. It was interesting to read books that did not deal with magic and he really enjoyed perusing the centers library collection. They had numerous books, and Harry really enjoyed being transported to a place that didn't include Voldemort and the many things associated with him. He had brought this up with Hermione on one up Hermione's visits, and it turned out the latest book he had read, Fahrenheit 451, was also a book Hermione had read and was actually one of her favorites books.
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"I can't believe you have read Fahrenheit 451 as well!" Harry exclaimed after Hermione had confessed she had read the book many times.
"Well, it's a classic novel," Hermione, responded from her seat across from him.
"Maybe in the muggle world, but I have never heard of it in the magic world."
"Which is a shame. It's a book that transcends cultures, everybody should read it. The themes are universal."
"What do you mean?"
"Censorship of information is something that appears in the world. Everybody should be wary of censorship and be aware of where that could lead, to a world that has no original thought or idea."
"You mean like when Fudge was the minister."
"Sure, but it happens everywhere in the world," Hermione nodded slowly, emphasizing her words.
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He turned the corner and looked into the window to the visiting room. He saw Hermione sitting in an overstuffed chair writing in her composition notebook furiously. Harry had never noticed how much she enjoyed writing in her journal, but every time he saw her, she had her notebook with her. There was so much about her that he seemed to not know, like he was getting to know her for the first time. The two of them took a walk after playing cards with Peter and Alex and it was amazing to hear some of the things about her that he did not know.
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Harry and Hermione were walking around the grounds enjoying a rare, calm November day. They came across an empty wooden bench and each sat down on it. To Harry's surprise Hermione laid down on the bench, putting her head in his lap like she had done this a million times. Her head was turned away from him and her hair was falling across his legs. The pale skin of her neck was enticing and Harry felt as sudden urge to kiss the tender skin.
They stayed like this for a few minutes before Harry had to distract himself from her neck and spoke up. "How have you been doing?"
Hermione sighed, "okay, I guess."
"You seem worried. What is it? Is it Ron?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, it's just that my mom hasn't been well. She's sick with pneumonia."
Harry gasped, "is she going to be okay?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes, the doctor says she has gone through the worst of it. But it has been kind of tiring for my dad and me who have had to take care of her.
This gave Harry pause. He was so amazed by how selfless Hermione was. She was always taking care of and worrying about other people. Harry had to wonder who was taking care of her. He surely wasn't. If anything he has been very selfish lately. Her dad was worrying about his wife and Ron was off on some mission. Harry rationalized that this realization is why he pulled Hermione's hair off her face and started to stroke her curly hair, reveling in the softness of her curls. Hermione closed her eyes and sighed.
"I'm so sorry Hermione. Is there anything I can do?" Harry asked, knowing full well there was little he could do pent up here, but he had to say it anyway.
Hermione patted his arm, appreciating the sentiment. "Nah, there's nothing you can do. My dad has it under control." Hermione's hand went back to twisting a delicate silver ring on her right ring finger.
Harry noticed the ring for the first time. "That's a pretty ring. Is it from Ron?"
Hermione hesitated a moment, before speaking dreamily, "no, it's from my boyfriend."
Harry puzzled over this. "But I thought you and Ron..."
"No, I just don't have those feelings for Ron." A tear slipped out at the mention of Ron's name. Harry saw that Hermione was upset and so he tried to change the subject. "Can I see the ring?"
Hermione took off the ring and handed it to Harry. He examined the small ring. It was simple, but beautiful., much like Hermione. There was a pearl at the center of the ring, which in itself was silver. The metal weaved around the small pearl intricately to wind into a thin band. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and smoothly placed the ring on her finger, where it belonged.
"Tell me about him." Harry whispered.
Hermione paused as if to collect her for thoughts. "Well, he lived just a block away from me for as long as I can remember. We went to school and he was my best friend."
"Until you went to Hogwarts?"
"Of course."
"But, even then he and I have always staid close and I feel like I can tell him anything. He gave this to me for my birthday." Hermione started to softly cry, staring at the ring. "Anyways he is an amazing person. He is really smart, not book smart, but something else. And he is really funny in a way that he doesn't notice."
Harry felt a small tug as Hermione talked so highly of this guy. Harry wanted Hermione to think of Harry in these terms. This surprised Harry and he wanted to analyze these feelings more, but he knew now was not the time, so he continued to run his hands through her hair and listened to Hermione talk.
"He sounds like a great guy."
"He is," Hermione responded softly, staring happily at the ring on her finger.
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Harry's heart performed a small flip flop when he saw Hermione's bright smile as she saw him. He couldn't help but feel a small bit of satisfaction knowing that the brought that smile out of her. He walked over and sat down across from Hermione, letting himself soak in the feeling of happiness and contentment at being around Hermione.
"How are you doing?" Harry asked.
"Great," Hermione chirped brightly.
"And how is your mother doing?"
Hermione smiled. "She's doing much better. She's out of bed and now able to take small walks around the yard."
"I'm so relieved to hear that," Harry told her sincerely.
"So, I brought us a pack of cards and I thought I could teach you rummy."
"Sounds like a plan," Harry replied gamely.
The two sat companionably for the next hour, playing hand after hand of rummy.
"I have to pop into the restroom," Hermione announced, placing her hand of cards on the table and getting up. "I'll be right back."
Harry nodded and sat back in his chair. He looked forward and saw Hermione's notebook sitting at the edge of the table, a pen sticking out of the middle to mark her place. Harry knew he shouldn't be even contemplating opening the notebook, but there was some overwhelming urge that he needed to read her journal. Maybe he wanted to know more about the mysterious boyfriend, or maybe he wanted to know more about what her true feelings for her. Or maybe he just wanted to know the unseen thoughts and feelings of the complicated Hermione. He didn't know exactly which one of these reasons was true. All he did know was at the moment it was imperative that he read that journal.
He opened the notebook to the current page and mainly there were musings on Hermione's relief that her mother was making huge progress in her recovery. Harry flipped back a couple of pages and saw an entry that was dated precisely two weeks ago written after the visit in which Hermione and Harry went for a walk and ended up up having the conversation about her boyfriend on the bench.
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November 2
I just got back from visiting Harry at the rehab center and if I'm being completely honest, I don't know how much more of this I can take. It's been almost two months and Harry shows no sign of coming out of this delusion.
Today I laid my head in his lap like I had done a million times, and he even stroked my hair like he used to do. I had hoped that he might be remembering but then he started to ask about my promise ring and I had to pretend I had another boyfriend. I described Harry as my boyfriend, but he didn't seem to make the connection. And every time he brings up Ron, it hurts so much. Harry doesn't remember the accident and that Ron is dead. Sometimes it just seems like too much to keep up with this charade. But I could never abandon him. I just love his o much, but I wish that he could come and we could try to put back together our lives.
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Harry felt the walls closing in around him and all of a suddenly it was very difficult to breathe. It felt like his body was shutting down, freezing in one position. And just like that, images came rushing back he remembered. He remembered all of it.
A/N: But what did he remember? For that you will have to wait for the next chapter which should be out really soon. I have almost the entire story written, but I have yet to type it up. I spend time in class when I should be listening to lectures on multicultural education writing this story. Thank you for those who are still around to finish the story, and I will finish it within the next couple of weeks. I have to. It's killing me that it's taken so long to write, and I feel like the story has suffered because of it. I am sorry for that. I am trying to keep the story together, at least enough to give you readers closure. This chapter is very short and choppy, but I needed it and hopefully the next chapter will be a little meatier. Expect the next chapter in the next week or two, as I get time to type it up.