Disclaimer: All characters, events and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, etc., respectively, everything else is my own invention.
FORESIGHT
PART FOUR
Harry exhaled slowly. He could feel Hermione's warm body in front of him, being pressed to his chest by his arms which were wrapped tightly around her waist, as though she might suddenly fall if he let go. He didn't mean to do this. Or did he? He noticed the tightness on the back of his jacket where Hermione had grabbed two fistfuls of cloth, her arms wrapped tightly around him too. Her head was on his shoulder, her face turned toward him. She was crying. Silently. Very still. It was too dark in the shadow of the surrounding trees to see her, but he knew she was crying because he could feel her tears falling on his neck and drifting slowly down into his shirt. His heart was beating so strongly he thought it might burst.
He noticed that she had begun to get worse as the night was wearing on, and apparently something had begun to break, something she couldn't control. His instinct of protectiveness over her had been constantly on guard during these past few days, but as Hermione now seemed to be losing what strength she might have had to fight this back, Harry felt so helpless. He felt as though he were fighting against an unseen enemy that was attempting to take his friend from him. The problem was, Hermione herself was keeping that enemy concealed.
The pain he felt was now worse than ever and he gritted his teeth, trying to fight back an onslaught of emotions that threatened to overwhelm and break him down too. He couldn't believe this was happening. He had never thought that something so simple as a friendship could become so complex and envelop his own soul. And how could someone so strong, courageous and intelligent as Hermione be so fragile, so beautifully fragile? He tightened his embrace slightly while closing his eyes and felt a fresh fall of tears on his neck as before. He could not let go of her. Some impulse deep inside his heart, that he could not describe in words, was compelling him in such a focused and strong way that no power on earth seemed able to repel it's advance. He felt the warmth of her body. He felt her breath and tears on his skin. He could smell the scent in her hair again. He wanted so much to… But his fear returned, trying to convince him that he had gone too far. He did not want to ruin what the two of them had together, and if it was possible, he would help her see it through as the friend he had always been. He simply could not violate the unspoken understanding they had. He respected her too much for that. To tell her what he was going through was a burden he did not want to lay on his friend right now, not with their present situation and not with her so emotionally distraught. These thoughts running back and forth in his mind caused a tremendous conflict in him and he felt torn by two opposing forces that were engaged in an all out battle to the death.
He began relaxing his grip on her, slowly letting his arms move down to his side. She didn't move at first, still clinging tightly to him, her head still laying on his shoulder. Then slowly she let go, and stood back from him, but still close. He no longer felt her warmth and the gap between them, though only inches in length, seemed to Harry like a vast, arctic wasteland as he felt the cold night air in front of his body. Something caused him to feel an almost nauseating emptiness at the loss of her embrace. He couldn't see anything but her silhouette against the moonlit glen in the dark stand of trees around them. But he watched her wipe the tears from her face and then cross her arms. He mustered as much strength as he could. They could not stay here. They had to get to the others.
"I…I think…they're gone…Hermione," he struggled to say.
He didn't know why it was so hard to speak to her. The words were like gravel in his throat and nothing he thought of saying seemed remotely relevant to what she was so caught up in. Emotions were running high between them both and silence seemed the only way to cope with it.
Hermione nodded at him and then turned her head to look over at the clearing. When she did, she came within a couple of inches of grazing his face. He caught her scent again and felt the warmth radiating from her face. His eyes closed involuntarily, his breathing intensified. It was everything he could do to keep from leaning forward, closing that gap, and kissing her softly on the cheek, taking her into his arms again. She turned and started to walk out from the trees into the glen. Harry just stood there watching her walk away, trying to regain his composure. Finally, he walked out beside her and the two of them left.
They were still terribly lost and Harry simply had no idea if the direction in which they were heading would lead them towards Ron and the others or not. But at the moment he found that he didn't really care all that much. He could not stop thinking about what had just happened. He couldn't take his mind off of Hermione. They had to remain focused in case they were 'visited' unexpectedly again, but Harry was having a hard time concentrating.
If Ron had seen the two of them just now, Harry thought while shaking his head, he would have gone ballistic. Harry just knew it. How many times had Ron directly or indirectly assumed that he and Hermione were hiding 'something' from him? It was bad enough that Ron had to watch Harry get all the limelight over the years, though Harry himself would rather not have it that way. But the idea that he had 'gotten' Hermione too would be the last straw for Ron. Harry did not want to think about that. It was tough enough trying to just keep from losing one friend.
He tried hard to think about other things while the two of them continued on in silence. But no sooner would he focus on something, than his mind would wander right back into Hermione's arms. What was she thinking about all this, about him? He had embraced her before, many times. That was nothing new. And he assumed that she understood his concern for her again this time, allowing her to just cry on his shoulder, and not trying to force her confidence in him over something that was apparently too personal to reveal even to Harry. But that strangely compelling force in him for her was still there, brewing beneath the surface and he was afraid it might break through at any moment. Oh how he missed her warmth. There was something so calming, so… Harry caught himself breathing hard again.
They walked several miles when both of them stopped briefly upon hearing a noise ahead. They both looked at each other and then moved a little quicker in the direction of the noise. The sound of rushing water became louder and louder as they walked down a small hillock to find a river before them, the moonlight sparkling and reflecting off of the dark water passing over stones and fallen branches. Harry seemed to remember passing near a river several years ago when they had all left the Burrow, toward the portkey on Stoatshead hill, for the Quidditch World Cup. Hearing the river was so soothing and welcome to Harry's mind right now.
Seeking a little rest, the two of them sat down by a large oak, bulging out of the earth not far from the river. Harry buried his head in his arms wrapped around his knees, his thoughts still circling around the girl beside him. He listened to the sound of the babbling water nearby and then drifted off…
He awoke abruptly, sitting upright with a jerk. He had to stay awake. They couldn't afford to relax too much. Alarm filled him as he turned to Hermione. She was gone! He got up, looking for any sign of her. He ran back to the hillock, but saw nothing. He then returned to the river, walking downstream a ways, and was relieved when, through a batch of small trees, he caught a glimpse of her. He slowly walked in her direction - moving in a way as to not startle her. He then stopped.
She was standing on a small pebble beach by the rushing water. He couldn't see her face as she was looking toward the river, her arms folded. There it was, inside of him. Something that was trying to reach out to her. Some force or power that wanted to ease her suffering, to see her happy again. He had never felt so strongly for someone before. He thought he had been in love before, with Cho and Ginny, but this was altogether different. Hermione was a very close friend. There was a tremendous weight behind this that he had never known or experienced before. He had little experience with being truly loved himself, not since his parent's were murdered. But memories of so many times past when someone had loved him were now as sharp and clear as the full moon overhead. It had finally dawned on Harry that for six solid years he had been loved and accepted by his closest friend for who he was, not for some image of popularity or amazing talents. He had never forgotten her telling him how great a wizard he truly was back in their first year. Her reasons for saying it stuck with him closely ever since. She saw him, Harry, for what was inside him. No one else in his world, save Dumbledore, had done that. Why did I not see it? How did I miss this? A wave of compassion for the girl standing in front of him came over him, causing his eyes to water. He had respected her as a best friend, but now he wondered at her with immense admiration. And right now, this girl he loved more than his own life was hurting and she needed him as much as he needed her.
Harry began to step forward. Before his foot could hit the ground a shockwave of fear rushed over him, his stomach in knots. That old tendency was trying to stop him from going too far again. But the courage he seemed to find in every dangerous situation roared up inside. She was his friend, he argued. She needed him now. He knew now with certainty that if something did not give, their bond, their connection to each other would be broken beyond repair forever. Something had to change or it would die. Harry was terrified at this thought even more than that of the actual deaths of any whom he had loved before. He could not comprehend such a loss and his resolve compelled him forward.
He walked up behind her, his hands trembling. She did not move at all. He then placed a hand on her shoulder. Her head dropped slightly as though something was again starting to break inside of her. She slowly reached across and placed her hand on his, gripping it firmly. Harry thought he might melt and ooze away into the river. But a peace that he could not explain came over him and he felt his strength return. He was no longer afraid.
Harry took his hand off of her shoulder and he felt the resistance of her hand trying to keep his from leaving. He then plunged forward wrapping his arms around her again, holding her tightly while pressing his face against hers. There was the warmth again, there she was again, her scent, her fragileness. He closed his eyes, just breathing it all in. He felt her give a little, leaning back on him, her arms moving to take hold of his. He could tell she was crying again as he felt the wetness of her tears on his sleeves. His chin dropped to rest on her shoulder and the two of them stood silently for eternal moments. He seemed to sense that some communication without words was going on between them, though exactly what was being said he wasn't sure of. All he knew was that right at this moment, no words were necessary.
He relaxed his hold on her a little, and she turned her head to look at him. He watched as the moonlight sparkled in the tears streaking down her face. He reached up to wipe them away, but no sooner would he succeed than more would take their place. Her water filled eyes were piercing his, a look of longing coming through them so intently. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly on hers, hoping to stop the tears. He pressed a little harder and the kiss was like an electric shock through his system. He heard Hermione sigh a little and he thought he was going to collapse.
If was as though the relationship between them over the years had been some clunky, off-kilter machine that with this first kiss suddenly clicked into place and was running smooth and quiet. Harry was amazed at how strong and beautiful this was. He had kissed Cho and Ginny before, but this made those kisses seem like trite little playground romances. He felt the tremendous weight of six years behind this. It seemed to him that every word they had spoken to one another, every thing they had ever done together was now encapsulated in this one kiss. Harry backed off, trying to catch his breath. He looked at her again. He almost wanted to jump seeing those brown eyes of hers coming back to life again. That vacant emptiness that had been haunting her and the pain he had been feeling this past week was fleeing away like the Dementors by the lake a few years back. But whatever it was that was coming through now was not enough.
Hermione turned around in his arms, facing him. She placed her arms around his neck, grabbing one shoulder and with the other hand, the back of his neck. She leaned in, tears falling rapidly now, and pressed her lips to his firmly and tenderly. Harry realized that not only was the connection between them restored, but was now greater than ever. This was the natural course of everything that had happened to the both of them and he knew it in every bone and sinew of his being. He never thought he would know this kind of happiness in his life. But the knowledge of her love for him had awakened a new respect and understanding for her too. Hermione Granger loved him, loved Harry Potter. Just the idea of it seemed to him like a badge of honor. This beautiful, smart, and strong girl actually loved him. They continued to kiss as though they had been so far behind all these years and were trying to catch up as fast as possible. Finally they stopped and came up for air.
As Harry tried to breathe normally again, still in Hermione's embrace, something dawned on him. The one thing in his life he had been searching for, both consciously and subconsciously was a place he could call home. A place where he was loved and could love without fear and without pretense. But his young life had taken him on a rough road in that regard. The sadness at the loss of his parents, the Dursley's lack of any real care for him, the loss of Dumbledore, who to Harry was like a father and then finally Sirius, the one person with whom he had thought he might be able to truly understand what family meant. But now, he knew deep inside something that was always present with him, but had long been buried beneath all the trials, struggles and battles over the years. Hermione was his home. Wherever she was, that's where he belonged. And right now he didn't care about anything else in the world. The world would have to wait. Harry Potter was home at last and he never wanted to leave again.
This idea began to bring tears to his eyes and some pent up frustration with all the heartache all these years finally found an outlet to break through. He looked at Hermione and an uncontrolled stilt of laughter came through his tears, he had never felt so happy and free. She too started to laugh and cry a little at seeing him. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers and the two of them just drank in the moment. Words seemed awkward and useless now as the two of them stood still in a broadened understanding that required no voice for itself.
Harry wanted to continue to hold her and feel her warmth in defiance of a world which, for the most part, had shown him nothing but hostility. But they both knew that they had to face that world sometime. They were an important part of so many people's lives and so many depended on them right now. Harry's burden with Voldemort still had to be finished or no one would be able to live a 'normal' life again it seemed. This pang of regret saddened him, and he leaned in for one more embrace. Hermione tightened her arms around him so tight he thought he might not be able to breathe. Neither of them wanted to leave this beautiful spot by the river on such a brilliant moonlit night in the countryside. A spot made more beautiful by the knowledge of the deep love they shared and would always share. They let go and stood in front of each other, quietly for a moment, just looking at each other as though trying to determine if this was all just a dream. Harry then slowly reached out and took her hand. She smiled at him and held his hand fast as the two of them began to walk away from the beach, moving upstream. The two of them never even spoke a single word.
But in Harry's eyes, everything was so different now. Hermione was different. She had become someone so much more to him than ever before. They had crossed that line and there was no turning back, but he was glad. The world would never be the same or treat them the same again. Then one thought crossed his mind that brought that into a sharp, painful focus. Ron. How in hell would they explain this to him? He would feel justified with all the suspicions he had of them over the years. Harry and Hermione both knew him well enough to know that he would not take this with a smile and big hug for the both of them. This brought such an awkward angle to their present situation and he began to feel nervous again. But being with the girl he loved so much smoothed away this nervousness, and he felt that with her, he could endure anything now.
Hermione clung closely to him, sometimes trying to walk so close to him they tripped on each others feet, laughing like little kids about it. This seemed so unreal to Harry and he wanted to wake up from this amazing dream before he became too lost in it. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind when it seemed he was granted his wish.
Harry and Hermione both froze at the sound of footfalls crashing in the forest to their right. They could tell there was more than one of them and by the sound of it they were rushing towards them quickly. They had been walking together out in the open and Harry knew that there was no way they had not been seen this time. He turned to look at Hermione whose face had filled with concern. With a simple expression, he let her know that this time they would not run. No more running tonight. A flash of anger caused him to tense up and that ever present protectiveness of Hermione rose to the fore like some enormous, deadly beast that had been rudely awakened from it's slumber.
They both turned in the direction of the forest where the footsteps were rapidly approaching. Harry tightened his grip on Hermione's hand and she moved slightly behind him. And they waited…