A/N - Hiya, everyone. Got a pretty long chapter for you. Lots of stuff happening. The pace is definitely starting to pick up. I'd like to try and clear up some confusion that may come up… at one point in the chapter is a section with Harry, Hermione, Ron and Charlotte. I have referred to Harry as No One whenever it was in Charlotte or Ron's viewpoint, and Harry at all other times. Hope this isn't too confusing! I hope you all enjoy it!
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Living with Hermione was going to take some getting used to, Harry reflected the next day. He really felt like working on a chest of drawers, but it was two in the morning and Hermione was fast asleep. He had just peeked in on her.
Thwarted, Harry paced restlessly in the living room, a corner of which he had sectioned off and magically expanded for his workshop. Thirty-two steps to the kitchen, thirty-two steps to the far wall. Thirty-two steps to the kitchen, thirty-two steps...
"Harry, what are you doing?" a bleary-eyed Hermione yawned from her doorway, clad in her sleeping gown. "You're making enough noise to wake the dead."
"Oh, damn," Harry stopped immediately. "I'm sorry. I wanted to work on a project, but that would be really loud and I didn't want to wake you."
"Oh, honestly, Harry!" Hermione heaved a put upon sigh. "Are you a wizard or not? Use a Silencing Charm!"
Harry froze, a chagrined look on his face. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you're a boy," Hermione replied in a matter of fact manner. "Will you tuck me back in? You owe me, waking me up and everything!"
"What, can't you make it back into bed yourself, oh brilliant one?" Harry rejoined, causing Hermione to scowl.
"Just for that, you have to carry me too!"
Hermione held out her arms, but Harry stubbornly stayed put. After a minute, she lowered her arms and started tapping a foot ominously. Harry, unwisely, still ignored her.
Well, thought Hermione, how about...
"Ok, I see," Hermione said in her best forlorn, little girl's voice. "You don't care about me anymore. I'll just go..."
She turned and shuffled away. She hadn't made it three steps before Harry scooped her up in his arms and nearly sprinted back into her room. Hiding a smile, Hermione craned her head back to look up at him. The utterly woebegone look on his face instantly swept the smile off her face and made her insides burn with shame. More so the painstakingly gentle way he lowered her into the bed and tucked her under the blankets.
"I'm sorry I woke you. See, I do care about you."
"Harry, I'm sorry!" Hermione cried, flinging her arms around his neck. "That was a really mean thing I did! I should have never said that, I didn't mean it at all!"
"I know. It's ok," Harry assured her.
"No, it's not!"
"Yes, it is," Harry replied firmly, disentangling himself from her arms and then kissing her on the forehead. "Your apology is accepted. Get some sleep, little witch."
And that made her feel worst of all, but absurdly happy at the same time. From now on, she decided, I'll never try anything like that again! Never! It was a stupid idea.
* * *
"They're late," Ron fretted.
"Don't fret, Won-Won," Charlotte scolded.
"I should have NEVER told you about that," Ron complained. "I thought I asked you not to call me that?"
"But it was just too good to pass up."
Charlotte wore a look of wide-eyed innocence.
"Don't do that. It makes you look like my sister."
"Oh, I'm definitely not your sister," Charlotte replied wickedly, dropping a hand under the table and running it up Ron's thigh.
"For Merlin's sake, don't do that in the same sentence as mentioning Ginny!" Ron squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Charlotte chuckled earthily and leaned in to kiss him.
"Oh, look, there they are," Charlotte remarked a minute later, taking her hand away with a wink and pointing towards the entrance. Hermione and No One stood there; No One was peering around while Hermione stood on her tiptoes, frowning in concentration as she fixed some imaginary issue with his hair. No One wore a patient expression.
"Yeah, I think you're right for once, Ron. There's definitely something going on there."
"Told you," Ron smirked, waving at them. No One saw and bent over to whisper to Hermione.
"Yeah, well, don't get too used to it. It won't happen very often. Hey, Hermione! Hey, No One!"
"Hi!" Hermione greeted them with a radiant smile. No One pulled out her chair and then seated himself.
"Hey, No One, where did you get off to the other day?" Ron asked immediately, then turned to Hermione. "And you! You were supposed to find him and bring him back!"
"I, um-" for some reason Hermione turned red and Charlotte gave her a considering glance.
"I had to attend to some business," No One cut in smoothly. "It's not Hermione's fault. I'm sorry I couldn't stick around."
"Oh well, no matter," Ron waved a hand, oblivious. "You were brilliant, No One! Where did you learn to play like that? Oh yeah... I've got your broom. Don't let me forget to give it back."
They were interrupted briefly by the waiter. They quickly ordered drinks and an appetizer. Or, rather, Ron and Charlotte did for them.
"Oh, I just sort of picked it up," No One replied vaguely. "And I told you, you can keep that broom. I can always make another. Besides, it'll get more use with you. "
"But-"
"Keep it. Or I'll hex you."
"Ok," Ron grinned. "If you're going to insist... it's a fantastic broom! You know, you sounded just like Harry then..."
Nobody said anything for a minute. No One and Hermione busied themselves with the menu, heads close together and murmuring about the choices. Ron was lost in thought, but Charlotte had a sharp eye on No One and Hermione. Raising herself slightly, she saw Hermione absentmindedly reach over and take No One's hand left hand in her right.
"So, any idea what you want?" Charlotte asked loudly.
The other three jerked their heads up. Hermione, Charlotte noted, quickly snatched her hand out of No One's. His expression was unreadable.
"Of course," Ron recovered first. "The usual."
"Mmmmm... I think I'll have some curry," No One mused.
"I just want a salad," Hermione finished, pushing the menu back on the table.
"How lovely!" Charlotte exclaimed. "Ron, could you order for me? The usual? And Hermione too? I need to visit the lady's room. Come on, Hermione, dear."
A startled Hermione was forcibly pulled from her chair and steered away by Charlotte, leaving Ron and No One staring.
"What was that all about?" Ron wondered aloud.
"No clue," No One replied, though there he wore a suspicious expression.
* * *
"So tell me the truth, Hermione," Charlotte said boldly, perching on the sink counter in the bathroom. "You did find No One that night, didn't you?"
"What do you mean?" Hermione replied quickly, twisting a lock of hair nervously.
"Oh, come now, dear," Charlotte waved airily. "Even Ron has noticed, and he's thick as a brick."
"Noticed what?"
Charlotte rolled her eyes.
"You and No One. You can tell me; I won't tell anyone. Not that I need to, anyway," Charlotte smirked.
"Tell you what?"
"Hermione," Charlotte said slowly and clearly, as if talking to a small child. "We all know you fancy him. D'you think it's only a coincidence that we always invite you two together?"
Hermione blushed and shifted from foot to foot.
"So," Charlotte continued in a more businesslike tone, "now that we've got that foolishness aside. You found him after the game and then you two... you know. That's why you never made it back, right?"
"We what?" Hermione asked, puzzled. Charlotte gave her a significant look.
"Oh, no!" Hermione gasped, cottoning on. "No, no, it wasn't like that! We didn't- I haven't-"
"Hmmmm..." Charlotte made a thoughtful noise. "Hermione, have you ever been with a man?"
"I- I don't know what you mean," Hermione blurted, eyes darting and face crimson.
Charlotte threw back her head and laughed, but then hopped down and enfolded Hermione in a hug.
"Oh, I love you Hermione," she laughed. "You're so innocent and so... good. Now be a dear and tell me what happened."
* * *
"How long does it take to go to the bathroom?" Ron muttered.
"Ah, well, you know. They're girls. You wouldn't believe how long it took Hermione to get ready."
"About an hour and a half, right?" Ron grinned. "I went out with her for a bit, remember? So, how are you two getting along?"
"What?" Harry asked blankly.
"Oh, come on now. I'm sure she fancies you."
"Oh. No, we're just friends," Harry lied.
"Sure," Ron said skeptically. "You sound just like Harry again. You know Ginny is convinced that you are Harry. Says she can tell from your voice, that you sound just like him."
"Maybe I do," Harry said cautiously.
"A bit, but that's not unusual. She's just mental," Ron shook his head.
"I thought she was pretty keen," Harry said quietly.
"So, what, are you saying you are Harry Potter?" Ron demanded.
"Of course," Harry said lightly, spreading his arms. "I look just like him, can't you tell?"
"Cheers," Ron laughed, lifting his glass. Harry lifted his own they drank deeply.
Harry took the brief silence to survey the restaurant. It seemed a nice enough place; clean and spacious. The wait staff was efficient and courteous and the air clean and fresh. There were a few obvious signs of magic, though.
"This is a wizard restaurant, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah. What gave it away? The bright purple fire in the kitchen? Or the occasional house elf?"
"Yeah, that had something to do with it," Harry chuckled. "Hey, look, I think that's our food."
Sure enough, a waiter balancing a large tray of steaming food unfolded a portable stand next to their table and started shifting plates over.
"Hi folks!" he greeted cheerfully. "Curry? Here you are, sir. And a garden salad? And you must be the 20 oz. Porterhouse." Ron nodded eagerly.
"Lastly, we have-" but Harry wasn't really listening. They thanked the waiter and assured him they were all set.
"They better get back soon, or it'll get cold," Harry remarked.
"Who 'ares?" Ron sat around a massive mouthful.
"Ron, you're as big a git as ever."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron demanded.
"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "Hey, do you think I should go knock and check on them?"
"Nah, here they come."
Harry twisted around and saw that Ron was correct. Hermione and Charlotte, holding hands and rather giggly, were approaching.
"Nice of you to join us," Ron said dryly.
"You look like you're doing ok by yourself," Charlotte ran an eye down Ron's front, which was already wearing bits of his meal. Hermione seated herself next to Harry and eyed him sideways, a speculative look on her face. She colored just a little when he raised an eyebrow, but didn't look away.
"You're just lucky we didn't eat your meals too," Ron threatened.
"Oh, be quiet, Won-Won," retorted Charlotte. Harry snorted in laughter through his mouthful of spicy curry. A moment later he choked and had to spit it out. Ron, thankfully, was busy being outraged with Charlotte and hadn't noticed. Hermione caught Harry's eye again and they both grinned.
* * *
Harry and Hermione got back to the flat late that night, quite full and content.
"I'm almost tired," Harry yawned. "If I don't watch it, I might get on some sort of normal schedule."
"Me too," Hermione agreed, flopping down on the couch.
"You need to get to bed, Hermione," Harry ordered from the kitchen where he had been stowing the leftovers. "You've gotta get to work early tomorrow."
"In a minute," Hermione yawned again and kicked off her shoes. "Come over here, Harry."
"Why?"
"So I can look at you when I'm talking to you!"
"Oh, ok," Harry said. "Fair enough." He walked over and stood stiffly across from Hermione. She made a vexed sound and yanked him down onto the couch.
"There. Much better."
"Um, ok. So what were you and Charlotte doing in the bathroom?" Harry asked directly.
"What do you usually do in the bathroom?" Hermione countered evasively.
"Come on, Hermione," Harry said skeptically. "I'm not stupid, you know. It was pretty obvious. And you were gone for nearly half an hour!"
"What goes on in a girls' bathroom is none of your business, Harry Potter!"
"I have a suspicion it is this time, little witch."
Hermione scowled.
"A real gentleman doesn't pry," she responded waspishly. Harry blinked, then grinned.
"Let's just agree that I'm not a gentleman."
Hermione tried to maintain her stern expression, but that last crack brought an unwilling giggle.
"Oh, fine," she gave in. "Charlotte was just giving me some advice. It's a girl thing."
"You can talk to me too," Harry responded immediately in an injured sort of voice. "I won't tell anyone."
"I told you, you big oaf, it's a girl thing," Hermione repeated, but she smiled fondly and slid over to wriggle under his arm and snuggle against his side. "I know I can trust you; that's not it."
"But-"
"Quiet, you."
His mouth opened and closed a few times, but Harry remained silent. Hermione closed her eyes and outwardly relaxed. Her insides, however, were fluttering in anxiety. Charlotte had been quite direct, and not a little scandalous, but that didn't make it any easier.
Hermione could feel the tension and wariness in Harry's arm and body; it made her feel slightly braver to realize that he was just as nervous as her. Not this time, Harry, she decided. Not going to let you get away this time.
Heart pounding, Hermione squirmed around so that she was sitting on Harry's lap, face inches from his. He tried to pull away, but she snatched his hand and placed it on her waist, eyes fixed on his. She nearly faltered then, but steeled her nerves, closed her eyes, and lifted her lips to his.
She felt his hand tighten around her waist and some resistance at first. But it quickly melted and he returned her kiss, which started to deepen. His other hand ran lightly down her back, sending shivers through her.
"Hermione, I-" he started when they finally broke apart, but she shook her head and cut him off with another kiss. Her mouth opened more and they began to explore with their tongues. But, once again, Harry pulled back.
"Hermione, no. I can't," Harry turned away and wouldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry... I-I tried. I really did."
"I- you-" Hermione felt tears burning in her eyes and swallowed with difficulty. "You don't fancy me."
Harry made a helpless motion with his hands, but didn't say anything.
"I'm u-ugly, aren't I?" she hiccuped, sliding away from Harry. "I'm t-too boring. T-too- too," she couldn't finish.
"No!" Harry said forcefully, finally turning to look at her. He wore such a sad, defeated look.
"No," he repeated more gently, taking her hands. "Hermione, look at me. You are beautiful. Don't shake your head like that! Look at me, I'm telling you the truth. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."
Against her better judgment, Hermione did as she was bid and could see the truth in Harry's eyes. But how could he mean it? There were countless others prettier than her: Ginny, Fleur, Tonks...
"I think you're beautiful, Hermione," Harry seemed to read her mind. "I don't care what anyone else thinks; they can go hang. But it's not just me. D'you know what Ron said to me about you? The first time he saw me as No One?"
Hermione shook her head.
"He said- he said, 'She's awfully pretty, isn't she?'"
Hermione gulped and wiped her eyes.
"And that's not even the most important thing," Harry continued intently. "You're wonderful, and smart, and caring too."
"T-Then, w-why-?"
Harry turned away again, releasing her hands; his shoulders slumped again.
"It's not you, Hermione," he said heavily. "I tried- I want!- to feel that way about you. But I can't. There's something wrong with me. And you deserve better."
"Don't you dare tell me what I deserve!" flared Hermione, feeling hope flutter in her chest again. "I don't care what you think I 'deserve'! I know what I want, and it's YOU, not what you think I deserve!"
Harry opened his mouth, disbelief evident in his expression, but Hermione rolled right over him; her words poured out uncontrolled.
"It took me five years to find you and I didn't give up once the whole time! Everyone else gave you up for dead, but I knew you weren't. I couldn't believe that; I wouldn't! I haven't even so much as kissed another guy the whole time! And now you tell me you want to- to- to return my feelings, but you can't and- and some stupid nonsense about me deserving better and something being wrong with you! There's nothing wrong with you, except your big fat head! You're just as perfect as you always were-" Hermione finally trailed off with a sniffle.
There was a long gap of silence, neither really knowing what to say or do. Hermione sat sniffling quietly; Harry made no noise at all and both looked in opposite directions. At last Hermione felt Harry's arm around her shoulder and she offered no resistance as he pulled her close.
"Hermione, listen. It's not that I don't want to. It's not that I don't like you. It's not that I didn't enjoy, um, snogging you. It's- it's that I'm just not capable of the emotion."
"What are you talking about?" Hermione demanded, involuntarily leaning closer into Harry's embrace.
"I think I was, before," Harry said faintly. "I don't really know; so much of my memory seems faded and far away. But, after I killed Voldemort... I wasn't the same. It's like I'm not whole anymore- like a part of me is missing... gone..."
Harry fell silent. Hermione sat thinking hard, absently straightening up and shifting so she was holding him, rather than the other way around. Her other worries faded as her mind clamped on the problem; it was always that way with her.
"Harry," she asked in a small voice. "What happened that day?"
There was no need to ask what day she meant. Harry was quiet so long that Hermione began to worry that she had upset him. Just as she was about to speak, to say it was nothing, he started talking.
"It was a mess," he began in a scratchy voice. "There was so much going on; people and fighting everywhere. I was trying so hard to protect everyone, but I couldn't... And I was so tired, so worn down. Finding and destroying the Horcruxes took so much out of me..."
He shifted uneasily; Hermione stroked his hair and whispered words of encouragement.
"Voldemort wanted to kill me himself," Harry continued in a stronger voice, "but he wasn't about to do it without everything being in his favor. He waited until his Death Eaters had worn down the Order before he showed himself. He killed Neville, you know. And Moody. No one else could; the Death Eaters were scared of them. I didn't even see that Neville had been protecting Ginny..."
"I lost track of you and Ron for a minute, and just when I found you he found us all. I threw everything I had at him, but it was no use. He just laughed at me. And you know what happened after that... he cast the Killing Curse at you."
"But you blocked it," Hermione whispered, squeezing him tightly. "You saved me. How?"
Harry considered for a moment.
"I don't know," he said finally. "I just sort of... lost it when he did that. And then- the Prophecy, it fooled us all, Hermione! Even Dumbledore. It's not fair; it was a sham!"
"What d'you mean?" Hermione asked, perplexed and intrigued. No one knew this part of Harry's story.
"Hermione, I thought I hated Voldemort before, but the moment he tried to kill you he crossed the line and I truly HATED him. I wanted him to suffer; I wanted it so bad I could taste it. There was nothing I wouldn't have done. Dumbledore told me the 'power I had that he knew not' was the ability to love. Or I used to have it, anyway," Harry said sadly. Hermione clenched his shirt, but didn't interrupt.
"But, the prophecy never said that was what I would defeat Voldemort with! It just said I had it! It hoodwinked us all!" Harry cried, growing more and more agitated. "You want to know how I killed him? I hated him. I hated him so much I lost all restraint and didn't care what I had to do to kill him. His hate was no match for mine. He didn't really hate me. He was afraid of me. Of what I represented: death. In the end he didn't stand a chance. I just let it all roaring out of me and I killed them all."
"I remember," whispered Hermione. "There was a flash of light and we were all knocked unconscious."
"Now, do you see?" Harry finished bitterly. "Now do you see why you deserve better than me? I'm a murderer; I'm no better than Voldermort. It was hate, not love, that allowed me to win."
"Don't say that!" cried Hermione, gripping his chin in one tiny hand and forcing him to look her in the eye. "You're wrong, Harry! Don't you see? D'you think it would have bothered Voldemort at all if he'd done the same as you? No! But it's tearing you apart; the fact that it's done this to you proves that you are very different from him! And you didn't harm one person, not one!, that wasn't a Death Eater!"
"I don't know, Hermione," Harry said tiredly. "Maybe once that was true. But, you saw me. You saw what I did to those Death Eaters that attacked you. I would have killed them too, if you hadn't stopped me."
"But you didn't," Hermione said quietly, holding up a hand to forestall him. "You didn't kill them. It doesn't matter that I stopped you. I couldn't have stopped you if you didn't want to be stopped, you know that. In the end, it was your choice not to kill them, not mine. And... I don't think it was hate that killed Voldemort. I think Professor Dumbledore was right. And if you think about it, you'll see that he was too."
Hermione's heart swelled and she felt giddy. It wasn't hate, she knew it wasn't. It was her; Harry lost it when Voldemort tried to kill her. It was something very different from hate...
"Maybe you're right, Hermione," Harry sighed wearily. "I don't know. And I just don't care anymore. I'm too tired; I'm an awful person and I just don't care anymore. So, anyway, that's what happened."
"Yes, you're an awful person, Harry," Hermione hissed, frustrated. "So awful that I want to snog you at every opportunity. So awful that I have never seen you do one selfish thing. So awful that I have seen you give everything you own and use every talent you possess, including your very life, to make other peoples' lives better. How many times do I have to tell you? When are you going to stop wallowing in self-pity?"
"And I told you, Hermione... how can it really mean anything if I'm just doing it to make up for the terrible things I've done? It has nothing to do with self-pity."
Hermione knew it was a bad job; there was just no talking to Harry about it. Yet. She wanted to slap him, but she drew on a hidden reserve of patience.
"Where did you go after you defeated Voldemort?" Hermione changed the subject. "Why did you leave us?"
"Oh, that," Harry slumped even further. "I disapparated. Don't know where to; someplace on top of a big hill. And I puked my guts out. Fifteen, twenty times. And that's when Snape found me."
"Snape?" gasped Hermione. "What happened? We always wondered what happened to him! Did you kill him?"
Harry laughed hollowly.
"Me? I could barely stand up. And I didn't feel much like killing anyone else yet."
"But- what happened, then?" Hermione pressed. "You're not telling me Snape let you go?"
"Oh, no. No. Snape was probably even more dangerous than Voldemort. He had a good gloat while I was lying there. The bastard used Voldemort to kill Dumbledore, then he used me to kill Voldemort. All he had to do then was kill me and he could be the next Dark Lord. He had it all planned out."
"But then how did you survive?"
"You're not going to believe me," Harry warned. "But another old friend showed up while Snape was revealing his grand plan to me."
"Who?" Hermione demanded.
"Perhaps I should have said, an old friend of my dad. Evidently, Dumbledore did know what he was talking about."
"But, Lupin never said anything about that!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Not Lupin, Hermione. Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew."
Hermione's eyes went round and wide.
"Peter Pettigrew saved you??"
"Yes. He cast the Killing Curse on Snape. He hated Snape even more than I did."
"Where is he now?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice.
"He's dead," Harry answered bitterly. "He turned his wand on himself. Said he was very sorry for everything he did and that, one time in his life, he was going to be brave like my father. I couldn't do anything to stop him."
"Oh, Harry..."
"Well, that's about it," Harry said in a very final sort of tone. "You need to go to bed now, Hermione. I just hope I don't give you nightmares."
Harry tried to get up, but Hermione smothered him.
"No. The only thing that gives me nightmares is when you're too far away. Would you just hold me tonight? Please?"
Harry looked down at her, then at the door. He looked back at her and his expression softened.
"Of course."
* * *
They both woke up at the same time, a bit sore from sleeping on the couch. Hermione stirred contentedly, face buried in Harry's shirt. Not a terrible night, all things considered. She would fix Harry, whatever was wrong with him, and he did love her.
"Come on, lazy," Harry chided, "you've gotta go to work."
"Just another five minutes," Hermione mumbled. "I'm tired."
"You'll be late," Harry said unsympathetically. He stood up, lifting Hermione to her feet and then giving her a gentle shove towards the bathroom.
"Go take a shower. It'll wake you up."
"Bully," Hermione accused, jaw cracking in a huge yawn. "Will you scrub my back?"
Harry's jaw dropped and Hermione laughed.
"I'm just kidding. I think." She swayed off to the bathroom, winking over her shoulder.
Harry stared at her for a minute, then started pulling out breakfast materials, muttering something under his breath about "bloody Charlotte". He slammed the frying pan down with a little more force than strictly necessary, glared at the burner (which obligingly coughed into life), and set up toasting some bread. By the time Hermione returned, he was laying the bacon and eggs on the table.
"Your turn," Hermione commanded, tossing her wet hair back. "I want you to come in with me today, and I don't want you smelling like a sewer."
"I beg your pardon," Harry replied stiffly. "You didn't complain this morning. And why do you want me to go with you to work?"
"Because I'm going to try and cure Ginny, and I want you to be there," Hermione replied casually.
"You're what?!" Harry sprang to his feet and banged a knee on the table; he spent the next minute hobbling around and swearing.
"I won't have such language in this house," Hermione scolded sharply. "And I said that I'm going to try and cure Ginny. You were right; the Muggles know lots of useful stuff and I think I found what we were looking for."
"Glad I could be of help," Harry said through gritted teeth, still rubbing his knee.
"Yes," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to try and integrate Muggle medicine with Wizarding medicine. Nobody's done it before and it looks like there may be a lot to learn..."
"That's lovely, Hermione," Harry said impatiently. "Do you really think you can help Ginny?"
"Go shower, and then I'll tell you," Hermione said infuriatingly.
Harry growled and stumped off to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later they stood outside a small house in Hogsmeade.
"This is where Ginny lives? All alone?"
"Yeah," Hermione affirmed. "Ron and Mr. Weasley spent a fortune on it; they had to work double shifts for a year. They still wouldn't have been able to afford it if Fred and George hadn't given them a load of money too. They installed all sorts of features to help Ginny live by herself, and invented anything that didn't already exist. It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen. Here, you'll see."
Hermione raised her hand and knocked on the door. Immediately, a vivid blue eye not unlike Moody's appeared in the door and studied them.
"Hermione Granger and one person of unknown identity are at the front door," they heard a disembodied voice inside the house. The eye closed and disappeared. A moment later they heard careful, light footsteps and the door opened. Ginny stood there grasping a support that seemed to be floating in mid-air.
"Hermione!" she exclaimed, staring blindly out the door. "What a pleasant surprise! Who's with you?"
"I thought I'd stop by and say hi," Hermione answered brightly, motioning Harry to silence and leaning forward to take Ginny's hand. "And go ahead and get rid of that pesky blindness while I was at it. I invited a colleague of mine, Healer Andrews, to come as well."
"Oh, Hermione," Ginny embraced her impulsively. "I'm so glad you stopped by. But you don't have to pretend, I accepted my blindness long ago. Your friend is quite welcome as well. Come on in; I'll make us some tea."
"No, really, Ginny," Hermione continued as they entered. "I learned some amazing stuff from those Muggle books! Harry was right."
Harry gave her a sharp glance. Hermione sighed, made a placating gesture and mouthed "She already knew".
"Where is Harry?" Ginny asked eagerly. She was walking down the small entrance hall confidently; a small handrail appeared besides her as she walked which she used as a guide; it disappeared after she passed. The rug straightened itself out in front of her and any objects that were in the way were moved to the side by invisible hands.
They emerged into a cozy little kitchen, awash with sunlight. A faint sound of music was coming from a radio perched on the windowsill; Ginny turned it off by simply saying, "Radio, off".
"He's at home," Hermione lied unblushingly. "Doing whatever it is that he does when I'm not there."
Ginny giggled.
"Healer Andrews, would you like some tea?" she asked politely.
"Yes, thank you," Harry replied, deliberately deepening his voice. Ginny frowned for a second, but then shrugged it off.
"You have a very pleasant voice," she complimented. "Tea, please."
A teapot flew over to the sink, filled itself, then settled onto the stove.
"Why don't we go sit down?" Ginny suggested. "It'll take a minute for that to get ready. It really makes marvelous tea; Fred and George did a great job with it."
She led them to a small living room, once again being led by the magical rail. It led her straight to an extremely comfortable looking leather recliner which scooted forward slightly to be in the perfect position as Ginny sat. Harry and Hermione sat together on the love seat.
The room was quite pleasant with three large windows that bathed the room in sunlight. There was no tv, of course, but there was a stupendous stereo and a large collection of cds. Despite Ginny's blindness there were pictures of her family plastered all over the walls, and even some of Harry.
"This is an amazing house," Harry said admiringly when they were all seated.
"Yes, isn't it?" Ginny said happily. "Everyone chipped in to make it for me. I couldn't believe it; I was such a little brat, I can't believe they would do this for me. Fred and George in particular were so sweet. Would you believe they cried when they visited me at St. Mungo's and found out I was blinded? It's the only time I've ever heard them cry. Then they sold one of their stores to raise money for this house. Property is so expensive is Hogsmeade..."
"But what am I saying? You wouldn't know Fred and George. So, Hermione, how are you doing?"
"Really well, thanks!" Hermione said. "After I cure you, I'm going to talk to Healer Swift and start a program to integrate Muggle and Wizarding medicine! They know a lot more than we give them credit for."
"That's wonderful, Hermione, but please stop talking about my blindness. I don't mind, but I know you get upset when you try something and it doesn't work."
"Why don't you just let her try," Harry broke in. "What could it hurt?"
"Oh, you don't understand, Healer Andrews," Ginny said earnestly. "It really devastates Hermione when she tries and fails, and I don't like to see my friends hurt like that."
"Please, Ginny," Hermione pleaded. "Just let me try one more time."
"Oh..." Ginny prevaricated, "I don't know, Hermione. Are you really sure?"
"Yes!"
At that moment, the kettle started whistling piercingly.
"Oh, very well," Ginny relented. "But let's have our tea first."
"Tea, living room!" Ginny called, and a tray with the teapot and three cups came sailing in. Arriving, it poured three cups and settled itself on a small table next to Ginny.
"The tea is ready," the disembodied voice echoed around them.
"Help yourselves," Ginny invited.
They sat there sipping quietly at the tea for a moment, then Ginny and Hermione started chatting lightly. Harry wasn't really paying much attention until he heard his name come up again.
"So how are things between you and Harry going?" Ginny was saying.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Ginny," Hermione responded, a note of warning in her voice. Harry was looking steadily at her.
"I couldn't believe what Charlotte told me," Ginny continued blithely. "She said you two moved in together! Of course, she still thinks Harry is No One."
Harry's gaze was now boring a hole in the side of Hermione's head; she refused to look at him.
"Well, you know, it just sort of made sense," she said in a rush. "I mean, what was the point of spending the money on two flats when we lived right next to each other?"
"Sure, sure," Ginny giggled.
"I think I'm about done with my tea," Hermione said hastily. "Let's get started. Ready, Healer Andrews?"
"Yes, let's," Harry said flatly.
"I'm just going to come over and put my head on your head, Ginny," Hermione explained, taking a deep breath. "I need direct contact to be able to see clearly."
"Ok," Ginny said uncertainly.
Hermione walked over, then got down on her knees and laid a hand on the back of Ginny's red-haired head. She concentrated for a minute and nothing seemed to happen. Then she started murmuring under her breath.
"Yes, I see it!" Hermione crowed suddenly. "Now, to fix it..."
Ginny swayed a bit and brought one hand to her head, clutching the arm of her chair with the other.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" she asked unsteadily. "I'm dizzy."
"Shhh, dear, it's alright," Hermione soothed.
"Something's happening... Wait! I can see something!" Ginny cried. "There's someone sitting across from me! Is that Healer Andrews?"
At that moment Hermione shuddered and collapsed to the floor. Harry leaped forward to catch her and Ginny cried out as Hermione lost contact with her.
"I can't see anymore! Hermione! Are you ok?"
"I'm ok," Hermione said weakly, clutching at Harry's arms in an attempt to sit up. "I'm just tired..."
"Oh, thank goodness!" Ginny exclaimed, but there was a note of loss in her voice.
"Just give me a second," Hermione panted. "I almost had it. I'll get it this time."
"No!" Harry said sharply, forgetting to disguise his voice. He was cradling Hermione in his arms. "You're in no shape to try again. It could kill you!"
"You're not Healer Andrews!" Ginny accused, gripping her chair so hard her knuckles were white. "You're Harry! That's what you look like now?"
Harry didn't say anything; he looked down at Hermione instead. She looked back up at him helplessly, a pleading expression on her face.
"Yes," he said heavily. "This is what I look like now, Ginny."
"Hermione was right..." Ginny murmured. "You are beautiful. I couldn't have had a better vision for the first time I've seen in five years."
Harry glanced swiftly at Hermione; she turned red and struggled to sit up on her own.
"Harry, come over here. Please."
Harry carried Hermione to the love seat and settled her in, then approached Ginny cautiously.
"Here I am, Ginny," he said, kneeling down in front of her. A second later her fist lashed out and buried itself in his stomach. Hermione made a helpless little noise from the other side of the room.
"That's for leaving us and then pretending you were someone else!" she shouted as Harry doubled over, his breath whooshing out in an "oomph".
"And this is for coming back!" Ginny stumbled off her chair to also fall on her knees and hug him tightly. "Don't ever do that to us again!"
"I won't," gasped Harry. "I swear."
"Good," Ginny nodded in satisfaction, clambering back into her chair. "Now, get back over to Hermione where you belong, you git, she needs you."
"Yeah," Harry puffed, still winded. "Going..."
Hermione was sitting up straight when he got there. She gave him a commiserating glance as he tentatively felt his stomach.
"I think I'm better now," Hermione announced. "I'll get it right this time."
"No!" Harry said angrily. "I'm not going to let you throw your life away any more than you would let me!"
"It's my choice," Hermione replied sharply. "I'm ok now, really. I didn't know what I was doing before. Now I do. There's no danger."
"Hermione, I don't want you to do anything that could be dangerous," Ginny sided with Harry. "You let me see for a second, and that was a great gift. You don't need to do any more."
"Be quiet, the both of you," Hermione snapped. "I'm the Healer here. I know what I'm talking about."
Hermione got back up and settled herself near Ginny again, throwing a furious glare at Harry when he got up. He sighed and sat back down.
"Ok, Ginny, just relax," Hermione instructed, laying her hand on Ginny's head again.
They sat there for a long minute wordlessly until, at last, Hermione swore violently.
"Hermione!" gasped Ginny.
"Harry, help me," she commanded. "My magic isn't strong enough. Yours is, I know it is."
"I don't know what to do, Hermione," Harry shrugged helplessly. "I don't know anything about Healing. Everything I've done has been in the grip of battle; I don't remember any of it. I wouldn't even know where to start."
"Just- just do something, Harry. Please! We're so close..."
Harry sat still for a moment, then summoned his guitar with a wave of his hand.
"You're going to get something... useful... in a minute, Hermione."
Harry closed his eyes and started playing a slow, almost mesmerizing tune. The music seemed to flow off his fingertips and directly into Hermione. She gasped as a sudden, overwhelming surge of power infused her. She suddenly felt like she could do anything. Anything at all.
"No, Harry! Not that!" She tried to push it away.
"Do it, Hermione," Harry hissed, still playing. "Do it now, or I won't stop."
"What is he doing?" Ginny asked fearfully.
Hermione gave a cry of anguish and whipped back around to Ginny. There wasn't any time to be gentle; Ginny convulsed as the power surged through her. A moment later it was done and Hermione dashed over and ripped the guitar out of Harry's hand.
"I can see," Ginny said wonderingly, gazing at her hand. "I can see! Hermione, I can see!"
Ginny leaped up and performed a mad sort of jig, then saw Hermione and Harry.
"Hermione, w-what's wrong?"
"Don't you ever do that again!" Hermione spat at Harry in a towering rage. "NEVER!"
"Hermione," Ginny asked timidly. "What's going on? Is Harry ok?"
"I'm ok," Harry said faintly from the love seat.
"This IDIOT," Hermione exploded. "This UTTER FOOL was draining his own vitality, his LIFE, to give me the power to heal you."
"He WHAT?" Ginny screeched.
"It worked, didn't it?" Harry protested to the two enraged women looming over him.
"Harry, if you had killed yourself for something as trivial as giving my sight back, I would have brought you back to life just so I could kill you again!" Ginny fumed.
"I didn't think it was trivial," Harry argued.
"You- you- you-" Hermione was beyond words. With a wail, she burst into tears and threw herself on Harry, crushing him so tightly he couldn't breathe. "You scared me to death!"
"Hermione," choked Harry. "Can't. Breathe."
Hermione relieved the pressure marginally and Harry breathed deeply.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to scare you. I assure you, I did not intend to die."
"Good," Hermione said in a muffled voice. "But don't do it again!"
"Yeah!" echoed Ginny fiercely, tears leaking from her eyes too. She dropped on the love seat next to them and spread her arms as wide as she could to embrace both of them.
"Thank you so much for my sight," Ginny was crying openly now. "It's the best thing anyone has ever done for me. I don't know how I can ever repay you... I love you both!"
"I think," Harry said in a subdued voice from the middle of the pile, "I think I'm going to tell Ron and the others who I am."
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