A/N - Hey, I'm really sorry this took so long! I'm not sure how happy I am with this chapter, but I hope you all like it. It spans a very short period of time, but I think some significant things happen. I will try and get the next chapter up sooner than this one!
------------------------------------------------------------------
Harry and Hermione weren't interested in much else for a while. At some point they realized they couldn't carry on snogging in front of the whole Weasley clan (and company), so they got up and strolled off, hand in hand. Harry was content, which is as good as he had felt in a very long time, and Hermione was humming to herself happily.
They passed a goodly distance away and eventually on behind a large hill. It was still a marvelous day: the sun caressed their bodies, the air was warm but not hot, and the sweet smell of freshly cut grass surrounded them. Several puffy white clouds broke up the monotony of the blue and cast small dancing pockets of shadow.
"Oh, isn't this nice!" Hermione exclaimed upon encountering a majestic old tree on the far side of the hill. It was swaying ever so slightly in the wind and cast a mottled shadow upon the hill. Almost looking like it had deliberately been made that way (which it very well may have, seeing as a wizarding family lived near) was a very inviting, root free crook in the trunk carpeted in soft moss.
"Come on, Harry!" Hermione pulled him over. Smiling, she pushed him down into the crook and attempted to follow suit, but stopped halfway and frowned in concentration. Harry realized that it made her look absolutely adorable and was dumbfounded as to why he had never noticed before.
It took a minute to sort themselves out, but the end result was Hermione settled between Harry's outflung legs, back resting his chest, head resting against his cheek and cradled in his arms. She stared up in wonder, almost disbelief, as the breeze sighed through the branches and sang softly in their ears, absently tracing circles on Harry's forearm with a free hand. Her other hand was tightly clamped in Harry's.
"I can't believe this," she murmured. "I must be dreaming..."
"No," Harry looked around briefly. "No, I'm pretty sure we're awake."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione laughed. "You're so romantic."
"I think you're poking fun at me, little witch," Harry said patiently.
"Oh, but you're so cute when you're all serious like that. I couldn't resist," Hermione teased, then twisted her head back to kiss him gently. She really was quite skilled at it, and getting better every time.
"Sorry," she apologized as she finally had to draw back for breath. "I'll let you breathe now. It's just that... I've waited so long for this day..."
They sat there in companionable silence for a while, not needing to fill it up with random conversation; they had never needed to. Harry was glad to see Hermione so happy. The weight of her body against his felt extremely comforting and... good. He was relaxed and comfortable and enjoyed the sensation of Hermione's hand on his arm. But he was still disturbed by the lack of emotion he felt. He should feel something... more.
"What do you mean, you waited so long?" he said finally. "You-you didn't feel like this about me when we were at Hogwarts, did you?"
She gave him a sidelong glance.
"Maybe..."
"You did?" Harry asked, stunned. "But- Rita Skeeter- we denied!"
"When?"
He didn't have to say any more; Hermione knew exactly what he was asking. Still, she remained quiet for so long that he thought she wasn't going to answer.
"One year," she said finally, "there was an annoying, ugly little know-it-all crying in a bathroom. Some mean red-haired kid said she was a nightmare and didn't have any friends. So when a troll got in the school, she didn't know."
Harry blinked and opened his mouth, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips.
"Another boy who, ironically, was the best mate of the mean one, knew that the know-it-all was crying in a bathroom and, even though he didn't like her, insisted they go find her. Breaking dozens of rules in the process, I might add. They did find her, and the troll too. Instead of running away, like any normal person would have, he ran in to save her. That boy, who didn't even like the girl, attacked a twelve foot troll with his bare hands. Just for her."
Hermione looked up at him.
"I fell a little bit in love with you right then. How could I not? Ron, too. But you especially. It was you who insisted on finding me; Ron told me. And the better I got to know you, the more special I saw you were. So much more than just a famous name. I decided by the end of that year that you were the one."
"But- you never said anything!" Harry exclaimed a bit dazedly. Though, somewhere beneath the shock he felt a small twang of amusement at how logically she described deciding that he was, essentially, her soul mate. When she was twelve, no less.
"Yes, I did. You just didn't understand it," she smiled. "But it's ok. I didn't ever expect you to return my feelings. I was, after all, an ugly, insufferable little know-it-all. And you were Harry Potter."
"You were never ugly!" Harry blurted, making Hermione's insides melt and leading to another good, long snogging.
"But what about Ron?" Harry continued doggedly once he regained his powers of speech.
"Oh." Hermione turned a bit pink. "That, um. That wasn't my finest hour, I'll admit. I, uh, I didn't think you'd ever like me, and..."
Once again Harry opened his mouth to speak, and once again Hermione shushed him.
"No more questions. It's my turn now."
Harry swallowed whatever words he was bursting to say and nodded. Hermione took a deep breath.
"You could- you could feel love before- when we were at Hogwarts, right?"
"Yes," Harry said slowly. "Yeah, I think I could. I dunno, though... how would I know?"
Hermione ignored the last part and rushed on.
"Did you ever- feel anything for me?"
"I, um..." Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I- well, first, I didn't dislike you First Year. I just, um, didn't like you either. You always had your heart in the right place; Ron and I were little snots. And you weren't, er- um..."
"Insufferable?" Hermione finished with a ghost of a smile. "I was. I admit it."
"But you were always right," Harry grinned.
"You didn't answer..."
"I know," Harry said heavily. "Hermione, why did you have to ask me this?"
"Because I want to know that you feel- that you felt something for me!" Hermione said shrilly, her face flushing a little.
"Hermione..." Harry cast around, searching for something to say. Her eyes were averted, but he could see her lower lip trembling. "Hermione, I... it's not important now, is it? That was in the past..."
He finished pleadingly, but Hermione still couldn't meet his eyes. She had stopped caressing his arm and her other hand was limp in his.
"Hermione, please-"
"No!" She didn't want to hear it.
"Hermione-"
"I'm not finished!" she was almost yelling now, her body stiffening as she removed her hand from his. "Don't you say anything yet!"
Harry fell silent, shock at the abrupt turn of events evident on his face. How had it gone from everything being so right to this in the span of minutes?
"I've felt this way about you for over ten years!" Hermione cried, choking a little bit. "I've had to watch you go through so many horrible things without being able to comfort you the way I wanted to. I lived five years wondering where you were and if you were ok! I finally found you and it almost destroyed me to see the state you were in!"
The words were pouring from Hermione now and there wasn't any way she could have stopped them, even if she wanted to. Harry sat with a stunned look on his face as they washed over him.
"It broke my heart to see you like that, Harry. Didn't you ever think what it was like for me to walk in and see you bloody and hurt with a knife clutched in your hand?! I thought I was going to die right on the spot! Or when you said you didn't care if you died? That no one cared if you die! How do you think that made me feel about myself, telling me I was a no one?"
"Hermione, I-" Harry tried to get a word in, but she rolled right over him.
"I never told you how I felt before, but I couldn't hold it in any more after that. Only to find out that you never even considered my feelings as worth anything! D'you know where I went after that? I showed up on Ron's front door step and broke down completely. He was so worried about me and I couldn't even tell him what was wrong. Because of YOU and YOUR stupid promise!" Tears were rolling down Hermione's cheeks now and her words came in great, heaving gasps.
"Hermione, I never meant-"
"Is it too much to ask if you ever cared for me? Is it- is it too much to-to want to know that you're not just settling for me?" Hermione finished in a whisper, turning her head away. "I- I want to be with you, Harry. I want it more than anything else. But not if you're doing it just to humor me."
Hermione deflated a little as the emotion drained out of her and studiously avoided Harry's eyes. Harry didn't respond though and, after a minute, Hermione made to get up, tears still running silently down her face.
"No." Harry snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her back.
"Let me go, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "I can't be with you like this."
She screwed her eyes shut, fighting to cut off the tears. That was almost a lie. She wanted to be with him so much that a part of her didn't care how it came about. She wanted to collapse back into his arms and snog him into insensibility. Whisper endearments into his ear. But this way wasn't right.
"No," Harry repeated firmly. "You're not going anywhere. You got to say your piece. It's my turn now."
Hermione stopped struggling and sat back down suddenly, causing the air to whoosh out of Harry. It couldn't really get any worse.
"Fair enough."
"Damn straight it is," Harry responded heatedly. He still held her in his arms, but it was a stiff, awkward sort of embrace, like holding a board of wood.
"Now listen here, little witch," Harry began forcefully. "When I do something, it's because I want to. When I chose to stay with you instead of running away, it's because I wanted to, not because you forced me. When you moved in with me I didn't protest because I wanted you to. When I hold you, it's because I want to. When you kiss me, I kiss you back because I want to. I'm not some wishy-washy little boy who does everything they're told. Do you understand me?"
Hermione nodded, still not looking at him, though her body relaxed a fraction.
"I may not be capable of returning your feelings but... Hermione, that doesn't mean I don't want to be with you. That doesn't mean that I don't like being with you. It's not a coincidence that you're the only person in the world that could have rescued from the... place I was in. I don't know what l-love is, but... this is what I do know."
"I do know that there's no place in the world I'd rather be than with you," Harry held up his hand and extended a finger, like he was ticking off the points in a debate. "And that anyplace I am is better when you are there too."
"I do know that I would do anything- ANYTHING- to prevent you from being hurt in any way."
Another finger. Hermione's body relaxed more and she even risked a glance out of the side of her eyes at him.
"I do know that I would be lost without having you to talk to. There's no way I could go back to the way I was before. We don't even have to talk; just being around you makes me feel better."
Yet another finger.
"And... I do know know that I'd do anything to make you happy. Even if that meant going away and never seeing you again," Harry finished. "I may not be able to feel love, but I am certain I would be miserable if that happened."
Harry, who had been swelling with every word, now deflated and looked confused and unsure what to do or say now, so he lowered his hand and fell silent.
Hermione gave a great sigh and turned to look at him.
"You still haven't answered my question," she stated, but was smiling slightly now and her brown eyes were warm. There were still tear stains on her face, but the tears themselves were gone.
"Oh, that." Harry blew his breath out loudly, raked a hand through his hair and thought for a minute. Absently, he conjured a wet cloth and gently wiped the traces of tears off Hermione's face. Hermione was looking steadily at him and when he vanished the cloth she seized his hand held it cupped against her cheek.
"Listen, I want to say yes. I really do. But- well, that would be a lie and you deserve the truth. Which is," Harry took a deep breath and plowed on hurriedly. "There was just so much happening and I relied on you so much and you were my best friend... I don't think it ever even crossed my mind and, if it had, I don't think there was any way I'd've risked our friendship for it. I didn't think you were interested in me at all, anyway."
"And I was a bit of a coward, really," he added.
"You?" Hermione choked in disbelief. "A coward? Are you kidding me? Harry Potter, that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say!"
"When it comes to girls, I am," Harry said firmly. "I'm sorry, Hermione."
"No," Hermione said, raising her other hand to touch his cheek. "Don't be sorry. There isn't anything for you to be sorry about. It was a foolish question I shouldn't have asked. It doesn't mean anything now. And I am so glad you told me the truth, instead of what you thought I wanted to hear. It was the right thing to do."
"Hermione..." Harry looked Hermione straight in the eyes, "if I could feel now, right now, I know I would feel... something... for you."
Hermione sniffled, but beamed at Harry and melted into his arms.
"Harry," she said seriously, but muffled, into his chest. "Forget what I said earlier. You are romantic. Even if it is accidental."
Night began to fall, and a chill with it, before Harry and Hermione made their way back to the Burrow, hand in hand. Luckily, they caught everyone before right before they left.
"Harry!" Hagrid boomed. "What d'you think yer doing, disappearin' like that? Yer the guest o' honor!"
"Oh, I think we can cut him some slack, Hagrid," Charlie winked. "If someone as pretty as Hermione wanted some time alone with me, I think I'd disappear too."
Hermione blushed bright red.
"Good to see you, Harry," Charlie shook his hand firmly. "I'm afraid I have to get going now. I'll be in touch!"
"Yeah," Harry replied in a heartfelt tone. "Good to see you too, Charlie."
One by one, the rest came and bade Harry an emotional goodbye and promised to visit. Even McGonagall teared up. At last only Ron, Ginny, the twins and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley remained. Charlotte would have remained, but she had an urgent appointment.
"Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said kindly. "Why don't you come inside and have some dessert?"
"Oh, no, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said immediately. "I couldn't. You've already done so much for me. Hermione and I should be going."
"Don't be thick," Ron cut in. "You're staying here tonight. We all are."
"Ron-" Hermione started.
"It's a time for family," he said simply. Harry felt something stir inside him as he realized that he was being included in that "family". Which is how, some time later, he found himself working on his third helping of dessert in the living room of the Burrow. He noticed that the Burrow had been upgraded and expanded considerably.
"So, Harry," Mr. Weasley said from the couch, "what do you do these days?"
Harry looked up blankly from his plate of dessert.
"Pardon?" he managed around a mouthful of ice cream.
"What kind of work do you do?"
"Oh, that..." Harry waved a hand vaguely, swallowing.
"He's an artist!" Hermione piped up from across the room where she was ensconced with Ginny. They had been casting furtive looks over at Harry and giggling behind their hands. She whispered something else to Ginny, who sighed theatrically and gave Harry an appraising glance.
"An artist?" Mr. Weasley repeated doubtfully. "Are you, er, comfortable?"
"He's brilliant, Dad!" Ron interjected. "Harry, you should play for us!"
"Play?" Fred asked curiously from the armchair he was lounging in, one leg thrown over the left side.
"Yeah, play," Ginny joined in. "He's a musician too. He cured my blindness with a song. Well, him and Hermione."
"No, that was all Hermione," Harry protested.
George gaped. "A song? You're winding us up!"
"No, she's not," Hermione said in a no-nonsense tone. "But he did a very dangerous thing and he's never going to do it again. Are you, Harry?"
"No, Hermione," Harry said meekly. The twins grinned wickedly and whispered something about "hen-pecked", while the others wore puzzled expressions. But no explanation was forthcoming.
"There's real magic in Harry's music," Hermione continued, frowning at the twins. "It's amazing... the most beautiful thing I've ever heard..."
Fred pretended to vomit when Hermione looked away. Harry had to smother a laugh; they would never grow up.
"I don't suppose you have anything with you we could see?" Mrs. Weasley asked wistfully, snapping her head up. She had quite spent herself in the excitement and now was barely able to keep her eyes open.
"No..."
"... but I do," Hermione finished, pulling out her otter. Harry blinked. She really did take it everywhere with her. "Harry made this for me. Isn't it gorgeous?"
Mrs. Weasley and Ginny made a fuss over the little piece as Mr. Weasley examined it over their shoulders. Harry took the moment to draw Hermione away slightly.
"Do you take that with you everywhere?" he whispered.
"Yes," she answered simply.
"Why?"
"Because you made it for me. And it's the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on," she added the second offhandedly, as if it was nothing compared to the first. He didn't know what to say to that.
"That's a very fine job, Harry," Mr. Weasley congratulated him. Even the twins agreed, but Ron was frowning.
"You told me he didn't make it for you," Ron accused. "You said you saw it and asked him if you could have it."
"Ron," Hermione said patiently, "that was when Harry still wasn't ready to tell you who he is."
"Oh yeah..." Ron thought it through for a minute, then brightened. "He made me a broomstick too, you know. It's superb! Nearly as good as a Firebolt!"
"Shut up!" George exclaimed. "Any chance you could make us one too, Harry?"
"Now, boys," Mrs. Weasley chided, "don't be taking advantage of poor Harry. He's got quite enough on his mind."
"Mum!" Fred protested, stung. "We are going to pay him, you know. You could make a fortune, Harry!"
"I already had one," Harry waved it off. "It was useless. There are much more important things."
For the first time Harry in Harry's memory the twins were left speechless, mouths opening and closing silently. Finally Fred managed something that sounded like "blasphemy" and it was Hermione's turn to grin.
"I wouldn't say that it was completely useless, Harry," Hermione said reasonably. "I'm sure the people you gave it to didn't think so."
"It sounds like there isn't anything you can't do, is there?" Mr. Weasley remarked, cleaning his glasses. But he winked to take the sting out of it.
"I suppose..."
"No, there isn't!" Hermione said proudly.
"I've been thinking about trying my hand at wandmaking," Harry said quietly on top of her as everyone else smiled. "Especially since Ollivander's gone. All the wands are imports now..."
"Wandmaking?" Ron spluttered. Everyone else looked similarly taken aback.
"Yeah... I, um, took a wand from a Death Eater and took it apart it to see how it works. I even made a prototype, but it only sort of works." Ron grimaced, no doubt remembering his busted wand during their second year.
"What do you mean, you took?" George asked curiously. "Didn't the Death Eater mind?"
"Sort of?" Fred asked at the same time, a glint in his eyes. No doubt he was thinking of new merchandise.
"Shut up, George," Hermione said sharply, a menacing gleam in her eyes.
"Hermione, what-"
"I said, shut it! As if Harry needs to think about THAT now, of all times!"
"What are you talking about?" George demanded, raising his voice. "Don't tell me to shut it!"
"I'll say whatever I damn well please! You leave Harry alone!" Ginny watched the volley between them with her mouth hanging open, head whipping back and forth as they exchanged words.
"Hermione, it's alright," Harry sprang up, put an arm around her shoulders and drew her away. "Sorry, George. She didn't mean it."
"Yes, I did!" Hermione struggled to break free. "He's being stupid and insensitive!
The rest of the Weasleys were looking on in shock, bewildered at this volatile Hermione. A tension had suddenly settled in the room and the twins, normally the ones to dissolve such a situation, were on their feet and staring angrily at Hermione.
"George, Fred, sit down!" Harry commanded, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. "And Hermione, stop!"
As unassuming as Harry had been before, everyone responded immediately to the bite in his voice, even the elder Weasleys. George and Fred, though still a but mutinous, settled on two free chairs. Harry sat on the very spot on the floor and pulled Hermione down next to him. She struggled a moment longer, then joined him with a thump. Ron, Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting very still.
"I think I best tell you some things," Harry said heavily, squeezing Hermione's hand slightly to let her know he wasn't mad, though she still looked murderous. "Before you get a... distorted version of the truth and start thinking I'm some sort of saint."
"Harry, wait," Hermione interrupted in a quavering voice, her emotions swinging so fast that Harry just stared at her. "I, um... I'm sorry, George. And everyone else. I've been a bit short with you all lately. Um, ever since I found Harry. I haven't been myself at all and... I'm really really sorry!" Hermione finished in a rush. She did in fact look desperately sorry.
It seemed today wasn't done with its surprises; Fred poked George hard in the back of the head and jerked his own towards Hermione. George sighed. It was quite obvious that Hermione's apology was very sincere and it had cost her a great deal to say it. Reluctantly, he strode over, bent down, and kissed Hermione on the cheek.
"It's ok, Hermione. We understand," he forgave her and cast a knowing look at Harry. "You've gotta be a normal girl sometimes. Just yell at Fred next time. Please."
"But- I hate it!" Hermione burst out. "I'm - I'm not emotional like this! I swear!"
Ron cackled and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny wore amused smiles. Even Mr. Weasley cracked a smile and gazed fondly at his wife.
"Don't you dare say anything, Arthur Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley said, eyes flashing ominously.
"Say what, dear?" he asked mildly. She wasn't mollified.
"So, Harry," Mr. Weasley changed the subject hurriedly. "What was it that you wanted to tell us?"
Harry gathered his thoughts.
"There are things I did," he began, "that I'm not very proud of. Especially after I killed Voldemort. If you were to believe some people I've never done any wrong and heal people by laying hands on them."
He managed a small smile at Hermione's hmph.
"It's true, Hermione. I'll forever be in your debt, but you have a tendency to brush aside my faults."
"And you have a tendency to put yourself down and brush aside all the good things you do and are!" She punched him in the side. "You have no idea how other people feel about you."
"Be that as it may," Harry sighed. "You asked me if the Death Eater minded when I took her wand, George. Well, she very probably did. I didn't, though. And she became quite uninterested in, well, everything, shortly afterwards."
The rest of the Weasleys were listening intently, but didn't seem to be overly perturbed by what they were hearing.
"Don't you understand?" Harry roared in frustration. "I killed her!"
"Harry, there's nothing wrong with defending yourself," Mr. Weasley said sympathetically. "You didn't do anything wrong. We all did things we'd rather we didn't."
"You have no idea," Harry said bitterly. "You just don't understand. You don't know the things I did in the five yeas after I killed Voldemort. There were dozens. Hundreds, maybe! I lost count... I killed them all!"
"Harry, I've had enough!" Hermione said crossly. "No, shut your mouth! Ron, do you think Harry is a murderer?"
"Of course not!"
"Fred? George? Do you regret killing Death Eaters when you had to?"
"No," they replied together, a hard look in their eyes. "They would have done the same to us, and not felt bad about it at all. We saw Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at Hermione... if we were you we would have gone mental too."
"Ginny?"
"They blinded me!" Ginny said, an ugly look on her face. "And they killed Neville! They tried to kill my family! If you ask me, Harry, you didn't kill enough of them!"
"Mr. Weasley? Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione appealed.
"Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said gently. "None of us are happy about the things we did, but we just didn't have a choice. It was a war, and we were out-numbered. The difference is that while they enjoyed killing, we fought for everyone we cared about. We fought to make the world a better place for our loved ones and the people who couldn't defend themselves. Even for the Muggles."
"You still don't understand," Harry cried, raw emotion naked in his voice. "The war was over! But I couldn't stop... I had to hunt them down, and kill them. I had to make them feel the pain I felt. That's wrong... it's evil."
"Harry," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "None of us are saying that killing is right, no matter how evil the person you killed. We're not saying that you should enjoy it. You should feel remorse, and the fact that you do is a good thing. But I, for one, am glad you disposed of more Death Eaters. I know it's not a moral feeling, but... every Death Eater you killed saved countless innocent lives. I would do the same, and I would do it for the same reason that you did."
"How do you know why I did it?" Harry said roughly, not caring if he offended anybody.
"Because I know you, Harry. We all do. You did it because it had to be done and you didn't want anyone else to be burdened with the guilt. You may fool yourself, and claim you did it for some other reason. But you know, deep down, why you really did it."
Harry sat silently for a minute.
"Dumbledore wouldn't have approved," Harry said finally, coming to the heart of the matter. The one man whose good opinion mattered the most to him. "He never killed. He was the most powerful wizard who ever lived and he never killed. He didn't even want to give Death Eaters over to the dementors."
"Dumbledore would forgive you, Harry," Hermione said gently. "You know he would."
Harry sat silent, looking down at his hands.
"Yes," he said finally. "You're right. He would. He was a greater man than I will ever be."
"So are we finally done with this foolishness?" Hermione asked briskly. "Do you still insist you're a horrible person?"
Everyone held their breath, waiting for Harry's answer.
"I've done horrible things," Harry finally said, raising his voice as Hermione tried to break in. "But... I guess that doesn't mean I'm beyond redemption. If Dumbledore gave Snape a second chance, then he'd give me a second chance too. And anything that Dumbledore believed, I believe."
Hermione paused with her mouth open, then shut it with a click. Finally, she smiled.
"I can agree with that," she said, hugging him tightly.
"Enough with this!" Ron cried. "Let's enjoy the night! Harry, what about some music? Harry?"
But Harry had the strangest look on his face.
"Harry, what's up?" Fred asked.
"I, uh. I swear I just heard Dumbledore," Harry said in a bemused voice. "And-"
"Harry, mate," Ron spoke up suddenly. "What happened to the scars on your arm?"
"They're all gone, except for one," Hermione said absently, looking down at Harry's arm automatically. "I don't know why they've been disappearing, though."
But Hermione suddenly gasped as Harry moved his hand away, which had been covering the scar. The skin underneath was smooth and unbroken. She looked up swiftly into Harry's eyes, but he shook his head. She tried to hide the disappointment in her eyes, but Harry saw and turned away.
"No," she said softly, turning his head back to her and kissing him. "It doesn't matter. You truly don't understand what you said to me earlier means, do you?"
"Er-," Harry said, fidgeting. "How about that music!"
-->