A/N - just a warning, there is a possible suicide reference in this chapter, but nothing graphic.
Chapter 5 - Harry's Story
Harry walked into the bar he had agreed to meet Ron and Hermione in with an inquisitive eye, unconsciously scoping the place out as a possible future employer. For a moment he forgot why he was there, as he marvelled at how there was nothing quite like an English pub.
Seeing a lone figure in a corner booth, oblivious to the world around her as she sat reading a book, Harry was bought back to the matter in hand with a thump. He had agreed to see his two best friends with the knowledge that they wanted to know what he had been doing for the last five years. He was always going to tell them - but it didn't make it any easier.
Taking a deep breath, he made his way to Hermione's table.
"Hey," he said when he was close enough, causing her to look up from her book. Harry noticed she was wearing glasses now, not that different to the ones he had worn since he was five, and although she didn't look as pale and sick as the last time they met, there were still large shadows under her eyes and a weariness that hadn't quite disappeared.
"Hey," she said back with a small smile as she put her glasses away and closed her book.
"No Ron?" This time Hermione laughed.
"Ron's time keeping skills have got worse over the years," she said grinning, "added with Lenny, well…"
"He does seem a handful," Harry smiled along with her, "er, can I get you something to drink?"
"Thanks," Hermione replied, "just a lemon, lime and bitter." Harry nodded his acknowledgement and made his way to the bar.
As he made the order, he felt himself relax slightly. This was the first time he'd spoken to Hermione since The Burrow (his visit at St Mungo's had been brief and silent affair) and he hadn't been sure how she would be. But so far, so good - she was definitely less cool to him this time around than the previous Saturday.
"So," she asked as he sat down next to her, placing their drinks on the table, "how have you spent your week?"
"Doing this and that," Harry replied, "went to visit Dumbledore's tomb, saw Remus and Tonks. Got things sorted at Gringotts, saw Fred and George's shop, said hello to Professor McGonagall, had a chat with Ginny…"
"Really?" Hermione curiously looked at Harry, "how did that go?"
"Good," he replied, "excellent actually. We both cleared the air, talked about why we didn't work and how she and Neville got together. They seem to be really happy."
"Yeah, they are." Harry watched Hermione as she paused and took a sip of her drink and saw the flicker of sadness hit her eyes. Harry frowned slightly.
"But enough about that - how are you feeling?" he asked.
"Better," Hermione said with an embarrassed shrug, "it usually only takes a few days to recover after the counter-curse. This time, it took nearly a week but that's to be expected. Sorry about that, by the way, last weekend…"
"Why are you apologising?" Harry asked, shocked, "I should be apologising to you. I had no idea."
They both looked at each other, willing the other to speak. When no-one did, Harry broke away from her stare and took a sip from his drink.
"What's that," Hermione asked quite suddenly. Unsure what she meant, Harry paused before answering.
"Ah, iced water…"
"Not your drink, your arms." Blushing, Harry realised what she meant as Hermione reached out for his hands, turned them over so their backs rested on the table, and then pulled the sleeves of his jacket slightly upwards. Harry watched as if hypnotised as she gently traced her fingers over the scars that went the length way up his arm, starting from the wrist and up towards his elbow.
"I was in a very dark place," he finally said, pulling his arms from her touch and rearranging his sleeves so once again the scars were hidden. Hermione frowned and opened her mouth as if she was about to speak when Ron made his appearance.
"Hey guys," he said loudly as he made his way over, carrying a lager, "sorry I'm late but Lenny chose today to try to colour things…"
"Colour things?" Harry asked, slightly confused.
"Yeah, we've just worked out how he managed to turn himself blue," Ron said with a laugh as he took a large sip of his beer, "Luna is doing the counter-spell as we speak. I'm the only one drinking alcohol?"
"Sorry mate, didn't think it wise for me to start to drink…"
"But you said you worked in a pub!"
"You worked in a pub?" Both boys turned to Hermione, who was now sitting between them. Ron had taken Harry to Dumbledore's tomb and they had talked briefly about what Harry had been doing - but Hermione had not yet caught up.
"Ah, yeah, I did," Harry said slowly, aware of the amazement in her face, "when I was in Australia and…"
"You see, I've been thinking about this," Ron interrupted, "how can you look like you do, work in a pub and in Australia, for Merlin's sake, and not get shagged?"
"Ronald!" Hermione admonished while Harry just laughed.
"It's not like I didn't have offers," Harry answered, "but any girl I dated, I seemed to compare with…" he paused and stole a look at Hermione (who was seemingly studying her drink and looking quite embarrassed) before looking back at a smirking Ron, "…girls back home and none seemed to measure up. Besides, your first was Luna and then you married her. I want my first to be the one that I marry - what's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, in fact it's very noble. But Harry, you're twenty three years old! Twenty three! How can you be twenty three and not have had sex? I mean, well, I know Hermione hasn't, but that's only because she's sick. You're the only other person I know who hasn't! You! You who could shag anyone! The famous…"
"Give it a rest Ron," Harry broke in roughly, no longer smiling, "if this topic fascinates you so much, we can talk about it later…"
"…because today Harry is going to tell us why he left."
Hermione's voice was quiet but determined, stopping the boys teasing swiftly. Harry looked over the table at Ron who just shrugged and had another sip of beer, aware that his curiosity about Harry's sex life (or lack thereof) would have to wait for another time. Harry then looked at Hermione and saw her watch him, all embarrassment gone and a hardness taking its place.
The atmosphere at the table had changed as quickly as if a button had been pressed. Gone was the light banter that Ron's ridiculous conversation had encouraged, replaced by a seriousness that reminded Harry of the months leading up to the Last Battle. Sighing, he took a gulp of his own drink before beginning to tell his story, his eyes not leaving his clasped hands resting on the table.
"I really thought I was going to die," he began, "that Voldemort was going to kill me, that I was going to die for the cause. I thought I had no future and had stopped planning for one after…after Albus died. All I wanted to do was kill Voldemort and Snape so it could all be over. I didn't want Ginny because I saw no reason - I was going to die. I tried to distance myself from all you guys because, I guess I wanted it to be easier for you afterwards."
"How could it ever be easier…"
"That's just what I thought Hermione," Harry interrupted, looking briefly at her before returning his eyes to his hands, "when I woke up in St Mungo's, I was confused. I shouldn't have been there but I was. I had survived. For a while I got caught up with everything about what we had done, about the ending of Voldemort, about the freedom the wizarding world was now experiencing. But it didn't feel right. I didn't know what I was supposed to do next - I never thought I'd get that far. My whole life, it seemed, consisted around defeating Voldemort. My friendship with you guys, Hogwarts, hell - just me! I was made to defeat Voldemort…"
"Harry, you know that's not true…"
"Please don't Hermione," Harry snapped, once again looking at her briefly, "you want to know my story - well, this is it. This is how I felt."
"Sorry," she said quietly. Taking another breath, Harry continued.
"I felt lost and so, so guilty. So many had died yet there were parties and stuff. And you were still sick, Hermione, it just felt wrong. That's when I noticed The Darkness…"
"The darkness?" Ron asked, finishing his beer, not bothering to get another.
"Yeah. It was small at first - anger, a feeling of helplessness. I thought it was just because of what I'd been through, you know? But it grew a bit every day until it was getting too hard to hide it from everyone. I knew I had to leave, to get away from you all. I needed to be alone. I began to think about what I would do next, where I would go. After a while, I worked out a plan with Remus that he would transfer money to a Muggle bank account to pay for whatever expenses I had, which went on a credit card…"
"Credit card? What's a credit card?"
"I'll explain later Ron," Hermione said quickly. Harry continued.
"…giving me the freedom to disappear from magic and sort myself out. Anyway, all that kept me here was you, Hermione. I needed to know you were going to be okay before I could leave. I stayed with you, waiting, wanting you to be alright and when you woke, for the briefest moment I felt a happiness that I hadn't felt for a long time." Harry looked at Hermione with a hint of a smile, but saw the tears in her eyes and reverted his stare back to his hands.
"When the Healers told me you were going to be okay, I left. It was like this blanket of everything negative finally had covered me completely and I could no longer breath somewhere so light. The Darkness had taken its hold on me. I caught a train to Paris and then the next available one north was to Poland. I think Albus had a hand in where I was going because I really had no idea. It was by pure chance I found someone who had an old woodman's shack on his property that he would rent to me for as long as I needed. It was secluded, had no water or electricity - perfect for what I wanted."
"What did you want Harry," Hermione asked softly.
"The Darkness. I wanted nothing but the Darkness.
"Time meant nothing, I had no idea until I left how long I was there for. A local brought me a sack of basic food once a fortnight but I ate only when I was hungry, and sometimes I didn't eat for days. I didn't bathe or shave or change my clothes. I just sat and let myself be consumed by guilt and pity and hate. I couldn't remember anyone or anything good. I only thought of the dead and how I had let them down. It got to the point where I didn't see the reason to continue on - I felt I had nothing to live for.
"I was sitting on the floor of this hut, watching my life drip away from me, when I saw them. For the first time in over a year I saw some light. Standing in front of me was mum, dad, Sirius, Hagrid and Albus. They didn't say anything, but I knew they didn't want me to die. And they reminded me of the good in my life, the good that still remained, the good that was still in me. With the little remaining strength I had left, I healed my wounds and began my fight against the evil that had nearly consumed me."
"Was it him?" Harry looked at her, amazed that yet again she understood.
"Yeah, it was," he said to her, seeing her nod slightly.
"Who?" Ron asked, confused.
"Voldemort." Hermione replied.
"Part of him passed on to me when he died and it took me another year of fighting before I could finally control him. He's still here, a small part of his Darkness is always with me…"
"Oh Harry," Hermione breathed, unable to hold back the anguish in her voice. Harry saw a tear roll down her face and quickly looked back at his hands. Seeing her cry over him wasn't what he wanted right now.
"I cleaned myself up," he continued, a bit shakily, "and made myself ready to move on. I knew I wasn't right to come back to the UK so I kind of went in the opposite direction and flew to Perth in Australia. I found myself in this lovely seaside town that seemed to be surrounded by amazing beaches. I got into a boarding house where the lady who ran it, Mrs McFarland, took me under her wing and made sure I looked after myself. She got me a job at her son's pub and I found that it suited me brilliantly. I worked at night, had a few hours sleep and then spent the day at the beach swimming, thinking or just enjoying the sun. It felt fantastic to feel the brightness in a world that never held that much light for me before."
"You said you were only sleeping for a few hours at a time," Hermione interrupted, "were you still having the nightmares?"
"Yeah, yeah I was," he said, still looking at his hands, "I hadn't slept for more than three or four hours in a row since before the Last Battle. You could say I was used to feeling tired…"
"Tell me about it," Hermione muttered. He looked up at her then and saw her tears had disappeared and been replaced by a weary understanding. Harry then looked at Ron who continued to remain silent, watching his empty beer glass intently. Before continuing, Harry returned his own gaze to his hands.
"After a while I knew it was time to move on again. I went to Melbourne, but was recognised, so I flew over to New Zealand. I travelled around a bit until I settled in Queenstown and it was there I met Alex and his wife Christine."
"Alex?" Ron asked, finally speaking, "who is Alex?"
"Alex was a regular at the pub I worked at and when I was doing a few weekend shifts, we began to chat," Harry looked up at his friends, finally on a part of his story where he was comfortable to see their faces, "he was in his final years of his psychology degree and found me an interesting subject. After talking for a while, he finally remembered where he had heard my name before. It turned out his parents were wizards, he was a squib and the news of us had reached as far away as New Zealand. It was if all the pieces fell together. On the other side of the world, I finally found someone I could talk to…"
"You could have talked to me," Hermione interjected, "us!"
"No I couldn't Hermione," Harry shot back, "the things going on in my head were wrong! I needed a professional to help me sort it all out…"
"A professional?" Ron asked, breaking through the tension that had surrounded the table, "this Alex, was a professional mind healer?" Harry and Hermione looked at Ron at the same time, Harry smiling at the innocence of Ron's question.
"Yeah," he replied to his friend, "Alex was a professional mind healer. And he helped me work out the issues I had with my parents death, the Dursleys, Albus, and of course Voldemort. We spent months talking and talking. We had done an Unbreakable Vow that meant Alex or Christine couldn't tell anyone else that they knew me or what we were talking about. Knowing that there was no way anyone else would ever find out what I was saying gave me a freedom to say anything.
"Once we had worked through the past, we started on my future, what I wanted, where I was going next. I soon realised that what I wanted more than anything was a family of my own and I knew I wouldn't find that anywhere but in Britain. It was time to go home…" Harry's smile of satisfaction that he had got through the telling of his story disappeared as Hermione abruptly stood, jarring the table so that Harry's mostly untouched drink sloped over the sides of the glass. She pretty much knocked Ron out of her way as she went to leave the booth, not looking at Harry as she received her bag and book.
"I…I have to go," she stammered.
"Hermione?" Harry was confused - what had happened?
"I just need to go," she shot back, "I'll see you later." And without another word, she was gone. Harry looked at Ron, frowning.
"What happened?" he asked, repeating his thoughts.
"Go after her Harry, she doesn't live far from here," Ron said as he stood, "you'll be able to catch up with her." But Harry was frozen, he didn't understand.
"Harry," Ron said with a bit more urgency, "go."
"Thanks Ron," he said, suddenly breaking out of his trance and without another thought he dashed to the door. People were every where, hindering his view for Hermione and with a panic he realised he didn't know which way to go. Instinct told him to go right, so he did, fighting his way through the casual pedestrians. He caught sight of her waiting at a set of traffic lights and sped up. She had just crossed the road when he was close enough to speak.
"Hermione!" he called out, watching as she stopped but didn't turn around. He was right behind her now and noticed the hitching of her shoulders. Gently turning her around so they faced each other, his heart broke as he saw the tears running down her face.
"Hermione," he said softly, "talk to me. Help me understand why…"
"Why? After all I've done to try and help you, when you needed help the most - I couldn't…"
"I wouldn't let you Hermione, not that you couldn't…"
"That's not what you said Harry," she cried, "you went half way across the world to find someone you could talk to!"
"That's what's upset you? That I didn't kill you with all the hate and pain that I'd been carrying around for so long?"
"Yes!" Hermione yelled back at him, before saying more quietly, deflating, "no. Harry, how could you go through all that alone? I could've helped you."
"You would have died trying Hermione." They stood on the street looking at each other, oblivious of the people walking past.
"Did Remus know?"
"No. His instruction was to put a certain amount of money in my account once a month. He had no idea where I was or how I was. I told no one."
"Why didn't you tell someone Voldemort was still with you?"
"Because I was scared and confused. I really didn't know what was happening to me, I just thought it was because of the fighting and what I had seen. I didn't know it was him until it was too late."
"You shouldn't have had to go through that alone Harry."
"It was my choice."
Hermione didn't reply and instead just kept looking at him. Taking a deep breath as if to steady herself, Harry watched her take out some keys from her bag before she returned to looking at his face.
"This is my place, er…" she paused, taking another deep breath, and then continued, "do…would you like to come in for a tea?"
"Yeah, thank you," Harry replied, smiling shyly, "that would be nice." Hermione just nodded and without any further words she turned and walked up the few stairs to one of the doors in the row of Victorian style house, Harry following closely behind.
A/N - there you go. Slightly longer than usual but hopefully it explains why Harry had stayed away for so long. You may get an update tomorrow - I'm planning to take my mother out for a jaunt so I might not have time. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, by the way. I really appreciate it.