Seems like Old Times
Chapter 2
Seems like Old Times
"Are we still on for tonight, Hermione?" Ron asked at lunch on Monday. "You were going to help me and Luna pack for the move."
"I'm sorry, Ron. I have to cancel," she said. "I've got a date."
"Really?" shouted Ron with enthusiasm. "That's terrific! Who's the lucky guy to drag you on date after all this time?
"I'm meeting Harry…" she admitted. "He's agreed to see me."
Ron scowled. "Are you sure you want to do this Hermione? Harry's …different than he was in school. If even half the stories about him are true, then he could be dangerous. He could hurt you."
"I'll be fine. Harry could never hurt me. You should see him, Ron. Sure, he's grown up since school, we all have. He's just so amazing. When I visited him on Saturday, he was just so….amazing."
"You sound like Ginny in her first year," he observed. "Don't make him into some kind of saint, Hermione. You'll be disappointed."
"No, I won't. You should have seen him with little Mee Tao. He was a typical father, but so much more. He was thrilled that she was there. He absolutely doted on her. I get the feeling he's like that with all of his kids."
"Hermione…" Ron began. "They aren't his kids. So he enjoys children? Why can't he be a normal man and get married and start a family of his own?"
"They are his children in every way that counts," she shot back angrily. "Your view is just archaic. Just because he didn't father them, doesn't mean he can't be a father to them. You are insulting every step-father and father-by-adoption by saying that. It takes more than a shag to be a dad. Harry is more of a dad to those kids than many men are to their own biological children."
"I hear what you are saying, Hermione. Just be careful, alright? I don't want to see you get hurt."
"I won't be. It's going to work out this time. I know it will. The next time Harry Potter gets married, it'll be forever…and it will be with me!"
"Don't let this go too far," Harry told himself, nervously. "Don't let her get to you. Keep your distance and you'll be fine. You are in control and only you can keep this from going too fast. Don't let her get to you. You can do this." Encouraged by the pep talk he had given himself, Harry sat on his staircase to wait for his date.
Hermione arrived at Harry's just before dinner. They had never stated a time, so she postponed as long as she could stand it. She knocked on the door and waited.
"Come on in, Hermione," he called. She went inside to find him sitting on the stairs. He looked at her intently before rising and approaching her. He immediately pulled her into his arms, kissing her soundly. He pulled her blouse from her skirt, while at the same time backing her into the wall. His hands were everywhere. She felt her blouse slide down her arms as her skirt also left her body. Her mind was telling her to slow things down, but her body refused to listen. She found herself undressing him as fast as or faster than he was stripping her. She gasped as he lifted her. Clad in only her knickers and bra, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Harry gently, reluctantly set her down and backed away. "Merlin, I am so sorry, Hermione," he said.
"For what?" she asked. "I wasn't complaining. I could have stopped it, too."
"Do you think I would have listened? This was not what I planned…"
"Tell me what you planned, then. We can still make it happen…maybe."
"I have dinner on, but it's probably ruined now. Then, I thought I'd take you to this muggle place I've frequented over the years. After that, if things went well, I figured I'd bring you back here and we'd talk. That's as far as I got. I mean, after what you said the other night, I knew sex was a possibility, but I never meant to ravish you the second you walked through the door."
"Okay, let's send Hedwig for some dinner, if it's burned, skip the muggle pub and get right to the talking," she replied. "If we decide later that we want to make love, we will." Harry chuckled.
"I wouldn't call what we almost did, 'making love'. That was unbridled, uncontrollable desire," he corrected. "There are few more choice words for it, but…"
"Anytime passion flames between two people who love each other," she told him, "it's making love, regardless of how wicked it is." She gave him a sinful smile.
"You are that sure of me…of us?" he queried.
"Absolutely," she replied.
"Let's go check on dinner, then we'll talk," he suggested. He rose and offered her a hand. The meal was indeed burned to an unrecognizable crisp. Hedwig flat out refused to play delivery owl, so they apparated to Hogsmeade to the Three Broomsticks.
"Well, doesn't this seem like old times," said Madam Rosmerta, as she offered them a menu. "Are we having our usual or have our tastes improved with age?"
"I believe we might be due for our usual…" stated a smiling Hermione, using every opportunity to remind him of the past when they were together and happy.
"That sounds good," agreed Harry, knowing what she was up to, yet allowing it.
"Shall we start the discussion while we wait, or hold off until we get back to your house?" she asked.
"Now is as good a time as any. You can ask me anything; however, as I told Ron, if I don't want to answer, I won't - so just drop it, alright?"
"That sounds fair…" she agreed. "First off, where do you work?"
"I won't answer that. Next question," he said.
"Alright, why won't you answer question one?" She knew she was pushing her luck but continued anyway.
"I don't want to…" he replied.
She went on to ask him how many times he'd been married and details about his children and his life. Some questions he answered and some he sidestepped.
"How many women have you slept with?" she asked.
"Why, Hermione? I can't see that that has any relevance…"
"After what almost happened earlier, I think it has loads of relevance," she replied.
"Including you? Five..." he responded. "Want me to name them?"
"Yes, please," she said.
"You realize, I'll ask the same information in return…" At her nod, he continued, "In chronological order, you, Sally-Anne Perks, Estelle, Deirdre, and this muggle I met at a pub, Your turn…"
"Three, including you," she answered. "I briefly dated George after we broke up, then a few years later; I dated Steven, the literal and proverbial muggle boy-next-door. It was right after my dad died."
"Okay, what's your next question?" he asked casually.
"Do you still have feelings for me?" she queried.
"That's where this gets a bit complicated, isn't it? Yes, I have feelings for you. I've always loved you since around sixth year…" At her expression he continued. "But, does that mean I want to throw the life I've created out the window for another chance with you? No. I heard what you said back then, Hermione, and I agree. I won't sacrifice 'me' for 'us'."
"I know that, Harry. I would never ask for a sacrifice. I know we can't just pick up where we left off. I truly never expected what happened earlier. We can take things as slow as you want. I've missed you, not just as a lover, but as a friend. If friendship is all I can hope for, well it's better than the way things have been for the last seven years." She looked into his eyes. "If you want more, then we can work on that as well. I don't want to come between you and your kids. I don't expect you to change your life just so I can be in it. All I am asking is a chance…a chance to get to know the man you are…a chance to discover if you and I are still made for each other. We thought that once, you know."
Their food arrived and conversation was postponed. After the meal, Harry lit a cigarette and Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste. Madame Rosmerta brought Harry a strong whiskey and Hermione a butterbeer.
"I wish you wouldn't smoke," she admitted.
"And I wish you wouldn't butt into my business…" Harry stated as he once again, drained his drink and left.
Hermione knew she had made a mistake. Madam Rosmerta came over to remove their empty dishes. After careful consideration, she spoke, "Hermione, don't push him. I know you want things to be the way they were, but maybe he wants someone who will accept him as he is now…."
Hermione finished her drink and apparated to Harry's. "What do you want from me, Hermione?" he asked before she could knock on the door. His voice came from on the porch. She couldn't see him.
"Harry, come out where I can see you…please?" she begged.
"I'm fine where I am," he said. "It's just easier this way."
"Alright," she agreed. "Just hear me out, then. I don't want to change you. I was just complaining because the smoke bothered my eyes. If it helps you to deal with things, then I won't say another word about it… or anything else."
Harry snorted. "That's very magnanimous of you," he said derisively.
"I want to explain about that night…"
"I've heard it before, Hermione. Just save your breath…"
"Alright, I'll let it go, but first I want to give you something to think about. I was young, Harry, so very young…We may have been the same age in years, but not in maturity level. Please don't hold that against me…You wanted an adult relationship. I wasn't ready for that. I needed to grow up some more first. Give me another chance…Please just think about it…."
Harry removed his invisibility cloak. "I'll think about it. I can't promise more than that, but I'll try. In the meantime, there won't be any repeat of what happened earlier. I can't deal with that on top of everything else…You have to be strong enough for the both of us, since I seem to lose all sense of control where you are concerned. Can you do that?"
"I will," she promised. She kissed him gently on the cheek and left.
She stopped by almost every evening after work. Sometimes they made dinner there, other times they went out. Still other times, she never saw him at all. Conversation, though awkward at first, had begun to feel more comfortable. Harry had answered some of her inquiries about his life. She had kept her word by staying distant physically. She knew she was slowly crumbling the wall that he'd erected between them. He refused to discuss his work, which made her curiosity skyrocket. She had narrowed it down to an Unspeakable or a Hitwizard. Either post would require absolute secrecy. Although, she knew se could be wrong on both counts, she didn't think so. They both sounded so like Harry.
"What happened to being an Auror?" she asked one night bravely. Their secluded table at the muggle restaurant
gave her courage.
"Things change; people change…" Harry responded vaguely. "Just drop it, Hermione, please."
"Well, you are still here. That's an improvement…" she said resigned.
"Not for long, if you keep questioning me…abut things you know I won't answer…"
"You are so obstinate! You never used to be like that…" she stated.
"Wasn't I?" he asked with a derisive scowl. "Or maybe you just remember me in some fantasy tale that has no bearing on reality. Think about it, Hermione." Once again, he stubbed out his smoke, drained his drink and disappeared, leaving her to stare at the place he was just standing.
"I just don't understand him anymore, Ron," Hermione complained over lunch the following day. "He's so secretive. He used to tell us everything. I used to be able to tell what he was thinking by just looking at him. These days, I'm better off staring at a blank wall…"
Ron waved his fork in the air. "Just what are you trying to accomplish exactly?" he asked.
"I want him back," she replied simply, stabbing at her salad as if it were alive.
"Why?" Ron looked at her seriously.
"Ron, haven't you been listening? I love him. He loves me. We belong together. He'll realize that soon enough..."
"Are you listening to yourself?" Ron asked quietly. "No wonder he avoided you for so long…"
"Ronald Weasley, that's a horrible thing to say," she shouted. The other diners looked up at her words.
"Well, the truth hurts," Ron shrugged. "He opens up to us just a little bit and you go on one of your fact-finding missions. You decided that you want him back, so you basically steamroll your way into his life. Have you ever known him to react well to manipulation?"
"I'm not trying to manipulate him. I'm trying to help him," she argued.
"Have you asked him whether he wants your help?"
"He's talked to you about me, hasn't he?"
"Without betraying his trust, I will confirm that we've spoken…" Ron answered.
"He thinks I'm trying to 'fix' him or change him. I'm not. I just love him and want what's best for him."
"What's best for him or for you?" At her enraged expression, Ron knew he had hit a nerve. "Hermione, I'd be the first one to congratulate you if the two of you got back together, but you are going about it all wrong. Harry isn't a book to be studied and debated. He is a grown man, who for more years than even we know, was manipulated by those who he cared about and abused by those that were supposed to take care of him. He swore to me after he had killed Voldemort that he wouldn't allow that to happen again. Just back off him for a bit. He'll tell you all you want to know in his own time."
The look on her face told Ron that he'd been heard and understood. She never noticed that he'd left; as she was so deep in thought.
Ron had already been waiting a half hour when Harry showed up for their weekly meeting a few days later. "I was about to leave…" he said as Harry sat down.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled without an explanation.
"I talked to Hermione a few days ago. Things alright with her?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged and lit a cigarette. "I told her back off, mate."
"Why would you do that?" Harry asked simply.
"She was going on about how she couldn't understand you anymore and how she is trying to help you…I couldn't hear anymore, so I basically told her how I saw things."
Harry looked at Ron incredulously. "You didn't…."
"No, I didn't," answered Ron. "I told her that you and I had talked, that's all. I told her I wouldn't betray your trust."
"She keeps going on about how she wants to give me a child. I want to tell her; really I do, but…"
"But you don't want to talk about it, I know. Harry, she needs to get to know the person you are now, not try to recreate the kid you were in school. You need to get to know her, as well. Otherwise, the two of you will never make a go of it. You have too many secrets and she is relentless in trying to find them out. If I were the type to offer advice, which fortunately for you, I am, I would tell you to stop trying to be the couple you were in school. Those people may not exist anymore."
"I hear what you are saying, Ron. When I told you…what I told you last week…I thought I'd just stop coming here to talk to you, but I couldn't, you know?"
"Yeah, I know, mate. You are used to dealing with things on your own terms, in your own way. If Hermione has started coming around even two weeks earlier, you'd have been able to cut us out of your life. Seeing her has helped you to understand how much we need each other…the three of us."
"I can't tell her…" Harry said embarrassed.
"Right now, you don't have to. She has no reason to know. If things get serious between you again, then that's a different story. But if nothing else comes of this, I'm glad to have my best mate back…"
Harry grinned. "Me, too. Listen, I've added both you and her to my security wards. You guys can apparate over anytime."
The following evening, Hermione knocked on Harry's door. A disembodied voice came from the bushes, "Go on in. I'll be there in a minute."
"What are you doing down there?" she asked.
"I'm adjusting the wards a bit," he answered. Hermione entered the house. Harry entered shortly after.
"All done?" she asked.
"Yep," he answered. "Just a bit of tweaking…"
They started speaking at the same time. "Ladies first," said Harry.
"I wanted to apologize. Ron was right. I have been trying, subconsciously, to re-establish what we had in school, without considering that we may be different from what we were then. I want to get to know you again, and then we can see if we have something worth building on."
"I'd like that as well. I'm not the same boy you went to school with. I am in no way, shape or form that naïve. Who knows, you may still love me, but not like me very much."
"I like you just fine," she responded. "It just seems like you don't like you very much."
"Hermione…" he cautioned.
"I'm not going to pry," she said holding her palms out toward him. "I was just making an observation. If you want to talk about it, you will. If that time comes, I'll be here for you."
"You don't want to hear about all that rubbish…" he snorted in derision.
"Yes, I do, but only if you want to tell me. I'm finished with pushing you."
Harry lowered his head and grinned. "Alright," he said in a disbelieving tone.
"I mean it," she told him. "Let's begin by getting some dinner…"
They went to a muggle eatery and deliberately kept the conversation light. Upon arriving back at Harry's, they decided to have a drink on the porch.
"It's nice out here. I like it," she said.
"Well, I've determined that it's easier out here. Inside is where I get myself into trouble," he responded.
"How do you mean?"
"My brain reminds me of how things used to be and the next thing I know; we are approaching the point of no return. Until things are sorted out, I can't allow that. I want you to be able to go into this with your eyes open. I want you to know everything before you decide. Not tonight, but one day soon, I'll tell you the whole story or as much of it as I can…"
"I'll just wait until that day, then," she responded.
Harry gave her a sad smile. He felt a small sense of grief at the thought of a 'new' Hermione, even though the old one drove him mad on occasion.
Several more weeks went by. Hermione had been spending almost every evening at Harry's. After dinner the couple would talk about pretty much nothing of importance. Hermione kept her promise of not pushing Harry. While he appreciated it, he also knew that he'd need a prod before telling her the things he needed to.
"You know you can tell me anything…" she whispered late one night while they were relaxing after dinner.
"Can I?" he returned.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
It was the opening he both craved and dreaded. "Hermione…" he began. "I…"
"Close your eyes," she suggested.
"What?"
"I know you've thought about telling me whatever it is that you are going to say, so close your eyes and picture yourself alone deciding what you are going to say…"
He got up from the squashy couch, walked to the stairs and sat on the bottom step. "I need to tell you about the war and what happened."
"We meet again, Potter…" snarled Lucius Malfoy.
Harry quickly spun around. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he never noticed the Death Eater sneak up on him.
"You are a full grown wizard now. The protection of those…" Malfoy got a look on his face as if he smelled something rotten. "…muggles you live with is gone. What will you do now?"
"I've keep on just as I have been, thanks," Harry said in a resolute tone. He mentally berated himself for letting his guard down. He slipped his hand into his robes for his wand.
"Without that mudblood at your side?" Malfoy sneered. "Your defeat of the Dark Lord was a mere stroke of luck, Potter. You think yourself such a powerful wizard. You are nothing, Potter. You are, have been, and always will be an arrogant boy with no future."
"My future is looking alright…" Harry replied. "I have several job offers I am considering…"
"A job?" laughed Malfoy. "There's more to life than just a job, Potter. The Dark Lord knew of your dreams, Potter. Remember that little curse he used on you? The Infecundus Curse?"
Harry searched his memory. He knew that Voldemort had used several curses that he'd never heard before. Then it hit him. "Infecundus…" Harry drawled. That was the curse that made his bits feel like they were on fire. "I remember that one. I should have known old Voldy would hit below the belt…"
"You don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"Stupid boy! You think the Greatest-Sorcerer-Ever would waste his time on a ridiculous crotch shot?" cried Malfoy incredulously, before he lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "Think about it, Potter. Use your meager skills of Latin…"
"It means sterile….so? Unless, by sterile, it means…"
"He certainly didn't intend for it to disinfect…." Malfoy laughed. "Your dream is over, Potter. It'll never happen. You'll die alone, as the Dark Lord intended. No woman will want you now…not even the mudblood…"
"Incarcerous!" shouted Harry. Thin conjured ropes flew from his outstretched wand and bound a struggling Malfoy.
Harry looked up expecting to see pity in her eyes. He was wrong. He saw anger.
"Has it been checked out? Is there anything that can be done?" she asked.
"I spent three weeks at St Mungo's, Hermione. If they could fix it they would have…but it doesn't matter, really. I've got my children."
"I know you do and you love them dearly, but I also know you'd be happier with children around more than just on the weekends, wouldn't you?"
"What's the point of thinking about that? It's not for me. Voldemort made sure of it."
"Let me see what I can find out at work. But, Harry, if there's a way to fix this, will you let me try?" she asked hesitantly.
"I won't stop you, but just don't get your hopes up, nor mine…"
"Well, even if nothing can be done, that doesn't change the way we feel about each other, does it?"
"Oh, come on, Hermione, don't be stupid. I've come to terms with this. Don't miss your chance at a normal life…I'm not worth it."
"You are worth it whether you believe it or not. Just because you can't have children yourself, doesn't mean that we can't have a normal life. We can adopt. We can…"
"NO!" he shouted then took a deep breath. "Listen to me, Hermione, we can't. Look at me. Look at my life. My work is …well, the point is I would never be approved for adoption. That's not going to change. Don't you think I've tried? I was going to adopt Emmie. Colleen was going to give me full custody…. It didn't happen. It won't ever happen. The sooner you realize that, the better.