Time Marches On

WARNING: BEFORE YOU READ THIS STORY PLEASE GO READ “A Beautiful Disaster.” This is a continuation of that one-shot story, and this story won’t make sense unless you’ve read it. Thank you!

Okay, so this is the sequel that took me forever to write. Sorry guys! I hope that the story makes up for the long wait, and that you enjoy it. It was very hard for me to write, and I still don’t know if I am pleased with the end result. But I would love to hear what you think. Love it, hate it, let me know! You guys are the reason I write stories, and without your comments I’d have no inspiration. <3 Erin

Time truly is like an hourglass. At first look there appears to be more life than you’ll ever need to live, the sand overflowing on the top, with merely a trickle collecting at the bottom. But the more you study it, the more you notice how fast the sand is falling. There’s never a rest, never a break, just a continuous landslide of sand. Five minutes later the pile may seem no more monstrous than it did before, but wait even a day, and you begin to see how truly fast time flies. An hourglass never seems very important, just an outdated way of measuring the hours. But when you’re measuring time left to laugh, and dance, and share stolen kisses in the night; why it is the most precious thing in the world.

Yes, Harry knew about time. He knew how short it could be. With people dying because of him since he was born, he understood it’s importance. Yet he still made mistakes. He still figured he’d have more time to go back and right all his wrongs. He still figured he’d have time to live…later. After being a hero, after helping others, after doing the right thing. But time is not wavering. Because unlike an hourglass, when the sand runs out, you cannot turn it over and start the process again. And no spells or tears will change that.

Two Weeks Earlier

“…The forecast for today is expected to sunny and clear. That’s right folks! After three days of downpour, the storm has broken. So throw off your coats and put on your trainers. It’s going to be a b-e-a-utiful April day. Jim, do you want to take us over to the metr-”

Harry clicked off the radio, throwing the crust of his toast back onto the plate. He had always loved radios, just something about the little box did something no magic could. And he loved the news it brought him today. His boss insisted on him taking a day off from the ministry, saying there would be no way he could catch any criminals if he was burned out from overworking. And for once Harry agreed. He had so many things on his mind, and being an Auror only made it worse. Some fresh air and a long walk would do him good.

He stumbled down the hall of his flat trying to find his glasses, he always seemed to misplace them when he was working. He went over to his desk, fumbling through the papers, knocking over half of them before his fingers grasped the round rims. Putting them on, he cursed silently before bending down to pick up the scattered papers. He saw on top his newest case, Jared Magord, who had been causing him a lot of problems. He was an avid Voldemort support, who couldn’t seem to get it through his thick skull that he had died over three years ago. Harry shuddered at the memory. It did not do to think about the past. As he placed the papers back on his desk, he was just truly glad that part of his life was over. He was only twenty-four after all , and he wanted to at least try and have a somewhat normal life. Realizing the stupidity in this statement, he laughed, he’d try for a normal day first.

Closing the door to his study, he walked over to his bedroom, where he rifled through his drawers to find some muggle clothes to wear for the day. Jared had been something of an oddity for him. Sure, after Voldemort’s demise, many witches and wizards tried to take his spot, trying to ensure the rise of evil he could not. It had not taken long to catch them though, their base of power so shaken and scattered. The Ministry was now almost fully certain that the threat of a new dark lord had been stopped. But Jared was different. Jared was always just out of their fingers, and while he had virtually no power, would not give up. Harry believed he was more crazy than dangerous, but Voldemort was living large only three years ago, and they couldn’t have rumors of his plans still being carried on spreading through the wizarding world. So Harry was sent on a wild goose chase day after day, and as he at last found the green shirt he was looking for, was glad he could put in on pause for just a few hours.

Walking down the steps of his flat, he decided he’d go explore muggle London, where he lived so long, but knew so little about. As he fell into pace on the sidewalk, he smiled and nodded to everyone he met. It felt like the makings of a great day. He heard music and the smell of pretzels drifting through the crowds of people a few streets away. Curious, he changed his course, and was soon in view of what appeared to be a carnival. Clowns walked on stilts down the middle of a blocked off street, and children ate cotton candy from mounds as big as their heads. Toddlers held brightly colored balloons dangling on strings tightly in their small hands, afraid they’d fly away, as mothers fussed over everyone, making sure no one was crying or screaming, or throwing ice cream at each other’s hair. The hustle and bustle of the city seemed to die away on this street; here no one was rushing to get to work, or worried about catching the train. As he walked around jugglers, amazing wide eyed children with their tricks, hats on the ground hoping for loose change, he found the source of the wonderful smells.

At the corner of the street was a little bakery, and outside they had a display of pretzels and muffins and freshly baked breads. Forgetting he had already had breakfast, Harry hungrily walked over, already deciding what to get. As he was paying for a blueberry muffin, he looked at the coffee shop right next door. That would go perfect with a muffin, he thought. As he looked in the window, all thoughts of coffee flew from his mind. His heart constricted, and had the baker not still been holding the muffin, Harry would have dropped it. Forgetting all about it, and even about his change, he walked towards the coffee shop, the baker’s shouts and frantic hand waving the muffin behind him ignored, until the baker gave him a quizzical look, pocketed the money, and ate the muffin himself.

Hermione. What was she doing here? Where’s Ron? Is she upset? Are they fighting? Can I get a grip? A million thoughts rushed through his head as he pushed opened the door and walked in. There on a couch, Hermione sat, sipping a latté, her eyes staring blankly and uncomprehendingly at the book before her. She didn’t see him come in, and he stared, taking in her curly hair falling out of the bun in little ringlets around her face, the pale flush of pink in her cheeks, the way her hands seemed to tremble every few moments, and her eyes blinked back tears. It had been five years since he let her get away, five years since he told her they had to do the right thing, even if that meant giving up their love. It never got easier, and in the moments he saw her with Ron, laughing and holding hands, made him regret that decision even more than he thought he could. Trying not to startle her, he coughed and walked over. She jumped, looking up, and snapped the book shut.

“Harry!” Hermione said, her eyes brimming with tears. “I didn’t think I’d see you here! How are you?”

Harry sat down next to Hermione, looking up at her, “Hermione, you look terrified, what’s wrong?”

She waved her hand dismissively, “Oh Harry, you’re too protective. It’s nothing. So why aren’t you at work? Did you take the day off? You really could use one, I’d always known they were working you too hard. Having you off trying to save the world or som-”

“Hermione, this is me. Harry. What’s wrong?”

Hermione stared at him for a few moments, uncertain what to say. She opened her mouth to talk, only to have nothing come out. Before he knew what was happening, she was crushing him in a hug, tears falling freely down her face. “It’s Ron. I don’t know what to do.”

Harry immediately tensed up. He wished it would be something else, anything else, he just didn’t feel he could handle giving them relationship advice. Sighing, he clenched his teeth before asking, “Are you two alright?”

Hermione pulled back from the hug and looked down at the ground, seeming suddenly interested in the stain on the carpet. “Yes, we’ll as fine as we can be. It’s just that last night we were talking about our future, and what we want in life. And Ron brought up children, and Harry, I don’t know what to do.”

Harry’s heart felt like it had been stabbed by a knife. Imagining her, with his best friend. He didn’t say anything, and after a silence, she continued talking.

“I mean it’s never really been an issue before, because of the war, and then the rebuilding, and it’s been five years since we’ve gotten married now, and Ron is kind of expecting to have a big family, and he assumes I want the same thing.”

“And do you?”

Hermione took a long time to answer before saying, “Yes, I’ve wanted a big family my whole life.”

Harry sighed, this happy day was quickly becoming a nightmare. “Then what’s the problem?”

Hermione looked up from the carpet, her brown eyes piercing into his very soul, “Harry, I know it’s been such a long time from that day. My wedding day. And I know we have both changed so much from the people we were then. But my heart hasn’t. I still love Ron, but not like I love you. There will always be a place in my heart for him, but… but my heart belongs to you.”

There are moments in each of our lives, where there is a turning point. You can either take the road that has no bumps, no twists and turns, no sudden cliffs, no anything worth living or dying for, or you can take the road that will send you to hell and back, but is filled with passion, and meaning. And Harry, after five years of taking the safe road for Ron’s sake, five years of only stopping by for the occasional supper, and never allowing himself to be alone in a room with Hermione, and always politely looking away whenever Ron stole a kiss, decided to finally do what he had wanted to do for the past five years. Get the girl. And as he leaned in without hesitation or second thought, and captured her lips in his, hearing her gasp but not pull away, he knew this was right. They were there, two figures immortalized in that moment. Minutes, maybe years later, Harry pulled away, cupping her face in his hands, “Hermione, I-”

Hermione placed a finger to his lips, suddenly calm, all signs of crying gone. “Harry, we’ve been talking for as long as I can remember. I really don’t want to talk anymore.”

Harry nodded dumbly, not sure what to say.

Hermione took his hand, and without missing a beat asked, “My place or yours?”

“What?” Harry thought perhaps he heard wrong. Where was this coming from?

“He’s not home.”

“Hermione…”

“Harry, I know what I’m doing and I’m not going to ask again.”

“You’re sure?”

“Would I have asked you if I wasn’t?”

“My place then. Blimey, I can’t believe this is-”

“Harry,” Hermione said, this time more forcefully, “We’ll talk about this later.” And then, before he could object, a thud let him know he was back at the place he had left a mere twenty minutes ago.

Harry glanced at Hermione, breathing hard, eyes twinkling, and couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he breathlessly murmured, before picking her up, kicking the bedroom door open, and carrying her into the room.

For the next few hours, time did not exist. It was as if someone had lay the hourglass down on it’s side, pausing reality for a while. In that moment, Harry and Hermione were in their own world, one full of love and passion. Husbands and jobs and society didn’t matter. They were living life the way they wanted to, consequences be damned.

What seemed like ages later, Harry woke up to the sound of pans clattering. Sitting up, he looked around, disoriented, what was he doing back here? Taking in the clock on the bedside table, he saw it was 4:00 pm. Immediately the events of the last few hours came crashing in on him. At that moment, Hermione walked in, wearing one of his t-shirts, and holding a tray with two grilled cheese sandwiches and some cookies, with big glasses of milk. The t-shirt was way too big for her, falling past her knees, and Harry couldn’t help but grin. She looked so damn sexy.

“You’re awake! I thought you might be hungry when you woke up,” Hermione laughed, giving him a wink. “I’m not as good in the kitchen as you, but these should taste pretty good.” Sitting down next to him, she handed him a sandwich, before biting down into her own.

“Wow, these actually are good,” Harry said, after taking a bit out of his sandwich, “Not at all like your normal cooking.”

Hermione swatted him playfully on the arm, “Hey! My cooking isn’t that bad. Just because I’m not a culinary pro like you doesn’t mean I can’t cook a good meal.” Harry gave her a disbelieving stare, and after a few seconds she looked down, blushing. “Okay, so I did use magic for these, but only after I tried to cook them normally. I figured the kitchen catching on fire was a sign to stop.”

“The kitchen was on fire?” Harry asked, immediately going tense.

“Kidding, Harry, kidding,” Hermione mocked. “Way to take a joke.” Laughing she added softly, “It was just the stove.”

Harry dropped his sandwich on the tray before turning to her, “I heard that.” He began tickling her on her sides, making her double over laughing, her sandwich falling to the floor.

“Now…look… Har… Harry!!” Hermione tried to say before falling into fits of laughter again. Harry leaned in closer, doubling his attack. She squirmed underneath him, making him reach around her and pull her closer.

“No you don’t.” He said, coming eye to eye with her. As their eyes locked, Harry felt himself forgetting about the tickling, her eyes suggesting something more. She captured his mouth in a breathless kiss, her mouth raw from laughing so hard. The kiss ended too quickly, Harry pulling away. They couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“Hermione, I think it’s time we had that talk.”

Hermione paused, looking longingly at his lips, before nodding and sitting up. “Yes, you’re right Harry. It isn’t fair of me to just come in here and expect you to deceive your best friend, and give you no explanation. That’s the least I owe you.”

“Hermione, I’m not regretful of what I did. I knew the circumstances, and I knew the risks. It wasn’t just being caught up in the moment. I love you.”

Hermione bit her lip, trying to hold back tears, “ That’s the reason all of this happened. Because for the past five years I have been trying to deny feelings that are stronger than any I have ever known. What I told you earlier was not some rushed confession. I’ve wanted to tell you that for a very long time. That those vows I took so many years ago, were doomed from the start. I knew we were looking out for everyone’s best interests, and trying to make everyone happy, but what about us? I… Harry, I feel like we’ve been putting everyone else before ourselves.”

Harry hugged her, drawing her into him once again. He stroked her hand absentmindedly, lost in his own thoughts. He was scared of what this meant. What the repercussions might be. But there was no going back. “Hermione, looking back on it, I think we were scared. I think we still are. I think we were scared of ruining the happiness of so many others around us. I’ve always made excuses about why we could never be together. But after today, none of those things matter. I would bet everything I own against those odds, because me and you… we work Hermione. We just click. I can’t simplify my feelings anymore than that. Only a few hours ago you were married and I was alone in life, and now we’re acting like we’ve been together for years. I don‘t see how I could go back after this.”

“I think we were idiots back then,” Hermione said, squeezing his hand. “We wanted so much to please others, and we were expected to give up our own lives in the process. Every time I was with Ron-” Harry winced and looked away.

“Harry, we are married, and I was with him. I know that’s hard but it’s the truth. Every time I was with him, I felt like I was cheating on you. And I have never even been with you! Well…up until now,” Hermione trailed off, blushing. “But I love you so much, maybe even more than five years ago, because after being away from each other for so long, I fully realized how strong love was. How strong our love was. You can’t fight it. And I don’t want to try anymore. I want to be with you.”

“When should we tell Ron? He‘s going to take it really badly.”

“Yes, he will, and I don‘t want to hurt him, but I can‘t go on living this lie.” Hermione frowned before continuing, “I think we should tell him soon, how about tomorrow?”

“Why not today?”
“Because I’m not done with you yet.” Hermione whispered, planting tiny kisses down his ear. “I want to show you how much I love you.”

Harry laughed, his voice already becoming low. “We’ll have our whole lives.”

“Our whole lives,” Hermione echoed, their lips captured in a kiss, one not of desperation, but of promise and the future. One that would make even the cynics believe that true love isn‘t just for storybooks.

Two Weeks Later

Yes, time truly is like an hourglass. And as Harry stared straight ahead, the wind whipping his long cloak, the people around him beginning to leave, he knew some people’s hours were too short. They left the Earth before other people’s sand had even started to make a dent on the bottom. These past two weeks were a nightmare for Harry, days and nights filled with tears and cries that seemed to come not from his heart, but from his soul. Just two weeks ago his life was full of promise, and love. Now, there was nothing. All because a crazed lunatic had decided to get his final revenge.

The next day, Hermione had left his apartment, going to make plans with Ron for that evening to break the news. The day was another perfect day, not a cloud in the sky, the sun shining warmly down on the Earth. They had embraced in the doorway, still not believing yesterday wasn’t a dream. Hermione ran off, stopping a block away and turning around to yell ‘I love you.’ And Jared, the man Harry took for a fool, happened to be walking by. Seeing this, he knew how he could get his final revenge. He found how he could hurt Harry the most, and ultimately revenge his hero.

Harry was getting ready to leave to meet Ron when Ron called him on the phone, crying and in hysterics. He immediately assumed Hermione had already broken the news to him, and he rushed right over. He found a man grieving the loss of his wife, but more was lost than just her heart. Jared had followed her home, waiting until she was just in front of her door, before killing her in the middle of broad daylight. Ron was returning home early, and found her body in the front yard, Jarod’s close by. He saw no use for living now that his revenge was complete.

When Harry heard this, he could not believe it. He could not believe that fate could be so cruel. To be reunited just to be separated. They had their whole lives ahead of them, and now they had nothing. He saw her lying on the ground, face pale and waxy, and knew he would never be able to kiss her lips again. They would never have little ones to call them mum and dad, or lives to live, or meals to eat. He would never be a ‘they’ again. For the thought of loving anyone like he had loved Hermione was impossible. They had loved and flourished in the midst of obstacles and trials. They shared what only the lucky in life could even dream of.

That day Harry had went crazy. Certifiably crazy. All sanity left him, and he was a man on the edge. He hadn’t recovered, and he never would, but he made himself get it together for this day. Her day. His final goodbye. There were no more tears to cry, but there would never be enough heartache. He had to learn the hard way that life is unforgiving, and that unless you live every moment like it‘s your last, it will pass you by. He wished that lesson hadn’t come so very late.

As he at last stood up on shaky feet, and pulled the lily from his pocket, the delicate white flower that seemed to sharply contrast the black and tears of his surroundings, he knew it fit. Stepping forward, he looked down at the face of the woman who knew him better than anyone ever had, and he realized with a crushing blow, just how much the world had lost. They had lost one of the brightest witches of the time, a cunning and smart person, and one of the most loving people he had ever known. He had lost more than a lover though. He had lost a friend. A friend who had been with him since he was a child, since he had entered the wizarding world. Her support and guidance had made him who he was today. Gathering his courage he let the lily fall from his hand, just as sand would fall from an hourglass, slowly but all too quickly, until at last it landed on the casket, where it would stay, like his love, until the end of time.

End

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