A/N: I am so SO sorry that this has taken so long. I blame school, my friends coming home from school, the sun, and Hermione's tendency to ramble in her subconscious thought. I really hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I cannot think of any witty way to say that I don't own any of what's written here, because I've now been writing for several hours and my strength has been sapped….
Chapter 4 The Tip of the Heart
The two witches walked in deep conversation all the way back to Kate's house, but both skirted around the issue of Hermione's feelings for Harry. Sometimes when looking down at Kate, Hermione felt as though she was looking into a wizarding photograph of herself at that age before she had been touched by the hardships of growing up in the midst of war. More often than not, Hermione caught herself sending a wistful expression the young girl's way.
"So what does Harry do?" Kate was asking.
Hermione squinted into the setting sun as she checked the street for cars before crossing. "You mean he didn't tell you? I figured he'd be bursting to let it out."
"Well he didn't," said Kate simply.
"He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts," explained Hermione.
The younger witch stopped walking and stared at her cousin in confusion. "But I thought he said that there was no Defense teacher because of some curse or something?"
Hermione nodded, surprised at how much Harry had taught her about Hogwarts and the wizarding world in one day. "That is true, there is no formal Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts nor is there a position for it, but Harry discovered a way around the curse by teaching only the practical bit of Defense while the theory is taught in with the other subjects. Does that make sense?"
Kate affirmed this by saying, "So Harry is going to be my teacher then?"
"Probably," Hermione answered, feeling the excitement of her young cousin.
Hermione reached up to knock when they arrived at Kate's front door, but it opened before her knuckled could connect with the wood.
"Oh, Katharine, Hermione, I didn't expect you home so soon," said Mary with stunning grin. Kate skipped past her mother into the house and Hermione followed in her footsteps somewhat reluctantly. She hadn't really intended to do more than see Kate safely back home and now as she sank into the same couch from that morning, she regretted telling Harry to go home. She sucked in a lungful of air and exhaled slowly, telling herself that if she could face Dark wizards and the stench of Ron's dirty laundry, she could certainly deal with her cousin for a few minutes.
"Well, did you have fun?" Mary asked her daughter as they sat down in the chairs across from Hermione.
Kate grinned and nodded, repeating some of what she had told Hermione on the train for her mother's benefit. She left out the fact that it was only Harry showing her around, for which Hermione was grateful. She doubted Mary would be quite as understanding about her work situation as Kate was.
"That's wonderful, dear," said Mary when Kate finished.
Kate turned her beautiful blue eyes to her mother's matching set and asked as though not daring to hope, "Does that mean I can go to Hogwarts?"
Mary seemed to be ready for this question and smiled a little as she said, "Well I've given it some thought and of course your father and I will need to discuss some logistical issues, but yes, you may go."
Kate jumped up from her chair and hugged her mother tightly. Hermione contained her own excitement and met Mary's eyes through Kate's bushy hair, surprised to see warmth there in the place of the coldness that was so often directed toward her while growing up. The next moment Kate was skipping from the room mumbling something about composing her acceptance to her offer letter.
Hermione whipped her head around to follow the girl's departure and when she turned back, Mary was studying her like she had when they were girls, but without malice. In fact, Mary seemed to be trying to think of something to say to fill the silence, and Hermione took a small amount of pleasure in rendering her perfect cousin speechless.
"I believe the words you are looking for are 'Thank you,'" Hermione said sarcastically.
Mary's eyes widened in shock at Hermione's tone and then she nodded to herself. "I deserved that," she said quietly. "Look, Hermione, I don't know if there's anything I can even say to make up for how awful I was to you all those years-"
"How about telling me why?" suggested Hermione, unconcerned with maintaining civility.
Mary sighed. "I can see you're not going to make this easy," she said, shaking her sleek blond head.
"And why should I?" she demanded. "Why should I just laugh it off as some childish thing when you've spent your whole life going out of your way to mock me or embarrass me or make yourself look better than me-" She cut off abruptly, willing the hot tears in her eyes to disappear. She did not want to give Mary the satisfaction of making her cry, even if she was trying to apologize.
"But don't you see, Hermione? You were always better than me," said Mary as though with physical pain. "Everyone thought so. They always talked about how clever and bright you were. You were always Nana's favorite, she even left you her ring when she died."
Hermione snorted derisively. "Are you really going to sit there and tell me that every horrible little thing you did and said to me was all because you were jealous?"
Mary said nothing but her answer could not have been clearer. Hermione began to laugh, quietly at first but then louder and louder until the sound of it filled the little sitting room.
"It's not funny, you know. You don't know what it's like-to look how I do, people expect you to be a certain way. Sure, I was good at making friends, but yours never walked away from you when you stopped being what they wanted you to be. I worked my whole life to stand out because of something other than my appearance, and you just seemed to do it without even trying. And yes, I was jealous," said Mary, her voice rising in pitch as she pushed the words out. This was probably the most honest she had been with herself let alone with anyone else in years.
The last of Hermione's laughter died away in her throat. "You were jealous of me for standing out and I was jealous of you for fitting in. What a pair we are," she said without expression.
Mary's short laugh rang hollowly through the room. "I don't know what else to say other than that I'm sorry for treating you so horribly. I thought a lot about what you and Harry said this morning and about the things that Katharine did growing up-the two of you are so similar, and now I finally understand all those odd things you were always doing and why you stopped coming to family holidays. I know there's no excuse for my behavior, but I just wanted to know how sorry I am. For everything," she said feelingly.
Hermione took in the blonde's earnest blue gaze and replied, "Well, I just hope you know that an apology doesn't automatically fix everything."
"I know that," Mary said seriously.
"All right then," said Hermione, unsure of what had just happened.
"Hermione?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you just promise one thing?" Mary asked.
"If I can."
"Can you promise not to teach Katharine the spell that will change my teacup into a toad?" Mary said, with the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought a smile.
Hermione regarded her cousin sincerely. "Mary, I can tell you in all honesty that I will not teach your daughter that spell," she said, her face breaking into a grin as she silently added the words but I can't promise she won't pick it up somewhere.
~~~#*#~~~
In a considerably better mood than when she'd left the flat that morning, Hermione fitted her key in the lock and opened the door. There were sounds coming from the living room and Hermione called in that direction as she set down the cartons of Thai takeaway and hung up her cloak by the front door.
"Harry, Ron-I'm home and I've got dinner!"
The sounds abruptly ceased and Hermione realized that it was the television they hardly ever used being switched off. She turned away from the coat stand and almost directly into Harry as he came from the living room.
"How'd it go?" Harry asked as they entered the kitchen and began grabbing dishes and cutlery.
Hermione sighed for the twentieth time since leaving Mary's. After the day she'd had, she was feeling both physically and emotionally exhausted. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sank into one of the kitchen chairs as Harry began dividing up the food from the various cartons. "Well, we talked, and she basically apologized for being inhuman for all that time."
Harry chuckled amusedly. "Did she say why?"
"Yeah, and you're not going to believe this. Apparently she had been jealous of me the whole time!" she said and laughed to prove to him just how absurd it all was. Harry said nothing, but nodded to his plate. "What?" she asked. "Harry, tell me you don't believe that rubbish!"
Harry took a bite of rice and chewed thoughtfully. "Well, people do some insane things when they're jealous, Hermione. I mean, look at Ron during the Triwizard Tournament," he pointed out.
"All right," Hermione said after a long pause, leaning across the table toward Harry, "who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"
Harry laughed good-naturedly and handed her a plate loaded with all of her favorites. "Hey, I should get to be the wise one every once in a while," he joked.
Hermione grinned and looked down at her plate, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "Speaking of best friends, where's Ron?"
Harry shrugged and took another bite of rice. "I think Luna came by and kidnapped him. She also mentioned something about working in the Time Room again today."
Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned at the thought of her less-than-alert friend. "Honestly, that girl and secrecy, how she became an Unspeakable I'll never know. I hate that room, by the way," she added as an afterthought.
"Kate and I had a lot of fun today," Harry said suddenly.
Hermione put down her fork. "Yeah I was going to ask, and when did you start calling her Kate?"
"She told me to," he shrugged.
"I think she has a little bit of a crush on you," said Hermione, winking at her best friend.
Harry had the decency to blush. "I wouldn't blame her if she did. I don't know if you're aware of this, Hermione, but I am a fairly attractive bloke."
"And rich too from what I've heard. You must have some pretty powerful friends," she said, playing along.
"Yeah my best friend is the brightest witch of her age," he said, claiming a small victory for himself when Hermione blushed.
She tried to will the color in her face to disappear but it was to no avail. Suddenly stricken with inexplicable shyness, she looked up at Harry through her lashes and said, "Thanks for today, Harry. I know you probably didn't want to spend your Saturday off showing around a little girl who was barely more than a stranger."
Harry held her gaze for several moments and then seemed to come back to himself. After clearing his throat he shrugged again and waved his hand as he replied, "Actually it was all right. Besides, Kate reminded me a lot of you, so it was fine." He gave her the grin that was guaranteed to turn her insides to mush and she returned it weakly. Then he went on, "You know, she asked a lot about you today. She seems sad that she never got the chance to know you better before."
Hermione's face fell as she felt her little moment with Harry pass, though she was honestly touched to be held in the girl's high esteem. "I suppose I can't blame all that on Mary. I wasn't really around for her when she was growing up. In fact I never even noticed her magical tendencies."
"Well don't beat yourself up over it, it's in the past and you have from now on to make up for it, especially since you and Mary are sort of reconciled."
Hermione huffed quietly, thinking back to the afternoon with her cousin."Well I don't know about that, maybe we're on the road to reconciliation. I mean she was actually jealous that I got my nana's clauddgh ring when she died!" exclaimed Hermione holding up her right hand. She stood up suddenly, feeling restless, and began to gather the dirty dishes to bring to the sink.
She didn't notice how Harry's eyes flicked back and forth from her face to her ring and how they followed the progress of her right ring finger and she flitted between the kitchen and dining area, cleaning up the mess from eating. She also didn't notice as he seemed to struggle within himself before bursting out with, "Hermione, why do you wear your ring like that, with the heart pointing down?"
The refrigerator door stood open as she paused bent over to shove in a carton of leftover Thai food. She could barely feel the cold on her skin as her heart thumped painfully in her chest and her searched frantically through all of the English words she knew in order to construct a sensible reply.
Kate's words ran through her head and gradually morphed into her own. Why don't you just tell him?…Just tell him…Just tell him, Hermione. She turned toward Harry who was gazing at her in concern. From far away she heard herself saying simply, "Because my heart belongs to someone."
She could have continued, she could have cleared up the perplexed expression on Harry's face by revealing the identity of the man who had long ago stolen her heart, but at this crucial moment, her bravery failed her and she felt strangely crushed without it. Before Harry had time to reply, she bid him a hasty goodnight and went to her room.
~~#*#~~~
Several minutes after he had heard Hermione's bedroom door close softly, Harry was still seated at the kitchen table with his half-eaten meal in front of him. Her last words before she made her exit were still echoing throughout the room and ringing in Harry's ears as though she had shouted them. Not only that but Kate's final words to him had been running through his mind since he'd Apparated home. Just tell her…Just tell her, Harry. But tell her what exactly?
Maybe tell her how much she meant to him, but Harry wasn't sure he even knew the answer to that anymore. There was no mistake in his mind that she was the most important woman in his life and probably always would be. Whenever he'd thought over the years about a woman replacing Hermione in his heart or taking her place by his side, the thought was also accompanied by a leaden nausea in the pit of his stomach.
Maybe tell her that she was his greatest friend, knowing without a doubt that there was never a time that she had ever walked away from him. She might have let him walk away from her as he had third year when she had told McGonagall about his Firebolt, but he never saw her back turned on him in anger in all the years that he had known her.
Maybe tell her how the second Kate told him about why she wore her ring that way how all he could think of was how more than anything else, he wanted her to wear it on her left hand. For him.
With that thought he sprang up from his chair and began to pace from the table to the kitchen. He wasn't sure where that thought had come from but he knew with full conviction that if he could just allow himself to be honest for once, he could admit that his feelings for Hermione weren't some new development. It wasn't important when they started, he reasoned, it only mattered that he knew about them now. And he knew what to do.
~~~*#*~~~
Though she could have sworn that she had closed the blinds the night before, Hermione was awakened just after eight that Sunday morning. She wanted nothing more than to turn over and douse the light with a well-placed pillow over her eyes, but she couldn't fight this nagging feeling that something was different.
Her eyes roamed from the open blinds to the neatly stacked books on her bedside table to her wardrobe doors, one of which was slightly ajar. Could that be what was keeping her from drifting back into a well-deserved sleep? No, even Hermione Granger wasn't that obsessive-compulsive.
She lifted her hand to wipe the sleep from her eyes and she stared at the band of pale skin on her right ring finger where her clauddagh ring used to be. Immediately she began to panic as she froze in place and searched the top of her duvet with as little movement as possible. Nowhere on there did she see a silver glimmer. Thinking that maybe she had removed it when she brushed her teeth, Hermione hobbled with her fine morning motor skills to bathroom. What she saw was not her ring on the counter like she had expected, but its reflection in the bathroom mirror-on her left hand.
She stared at this virtual image for what felt like an eternity before thoughts from seemingly all directions pummeled her simultaneously. She reasoned her way through impossibilities and through improbabilities-did she switch it herself? Was this some kind of feeble subconscious joke?-until inevitably her thoughts settled on a single solution, try as she might to avoid it.
Harry.
She had instinctively guessed him to be responsible the very moment her eyes laid on the shiny silver in the reflection-after all, the ring had definitely been on her right hand when she went to sleep and there was no one else in the flat. But she wasn't so sure why her mind was trying so hard to disprove this notion if it meant that all of the passionate yearnings of her heart were finally requited. It was almost too much to hope for after all of these years that Hermione didn't know if she could bear it if she were wrong.
She exited the bathroom, slung her dressing gown around her shoulders despite the summer morning heat and plopped promptly back down on her bed, not yet ready to face what was outside her door. If she went out there, she would have to demand of Harry an explanation. There would have to be some discussion and she would have stumble through some sort of confession. A jolt of terror ran like ice water through her veins as she imagined the declaration of her feelings for her best friend who quite probably had not known the significance of what he'd done.
But then why do it? a voice that reminded her suspiciously of her mother nagged. She sighed in exasperation. If he did love her, changing her ring might just be his roundabout way of telling her.
He might even be just as afraid of coming clean as I am, she reasoned. Eventually it all came down to the same thing: Harry switched her ring and it would take all over her Gryffindor courage to ask him why.
Three minutes later, after she had shut her bedroom door as quietly as she could and tip-toed through the hall, Hermione peeked stealthily around the doorframe of the kitchen area. Shrugging off the guilty feeling that she was stalking her best friend and love interest, she watched silently as said figure moved in quick succession through the stages of breakfast-making. Her brow knit in wonder as every so often he would pause in his food preparation and grunt in agitation before veering off to some other task.
Wordlessly she stepped into the shafts of sunlight that filtered through the kitchen blinds with her head held high as though coming in to court. Harry did a double take as she came into view in the side of his vision and froze in place. The awkwardness that Hermione had so been dreading pervaded the space between them as neither made the first move to speak.
He cleared his throat after a moment and immediately launched into an apology. "Hermione, I'm so sorry," he began, taking a few steps toward where she stood motionless in the doorway and halting abruptly. "I don't know why I did it-I mean, I do, but, well, I can understand if you're upset with me. I should never have gone into your room anyway, I'm sorry-"
His words faded from her ears and all she was aware of was his lips moving rapidly and her own heart plunging irretrievably to somewhere cold and dark. He did not love her. She felt tears spring to her eyes, not because of his stumbling apology but because he had unwittingly succeeded in getting her to hope again.
"I'm not upset with you," she replied mechanically. Plastering on a smile that she knew didn't quite reach her eyes, she asked sweetly, "Why would I be?"
Harry was struck silent and seemed to deflate slightly. "Oh. Well, I thought that since you don't really like it when me and Ron go in-"
"Ron and I," she corrected automatically, brushing past him to busy herself at completing Harry's makeshift breakfast. Surreptitiously she wiped her face on the sleeve of her dressing gown so Harry wouldn't see the tears flowing there.
"Right," he whispered.
She heard the sound of his footsteps approaching from behind and she fought to compose herself; she could only imagine what the sight of her red and puffy eyes would do to the conversation. Concentrate, Hermione, she chided herself, Think about something amusing-like the time Ron said that thing and then Harry-No, not that. How about when you stayed over with Luna and Ginny…and all you talked about was Harry. It all comes back to Harry, she thought sadly as a glint of silver on her left hand caught her eye.
"Hermione?" asked Harry tentatively, causing her to jump since he was directly behind her.
"Yes?" she replied, now buttering some toast. She blinked as she realized that she was siphoning all of her emotion into her task and the bread was tearing under the pressure.
"I'm sorry."
Hermione bit back a groan of irritation. "You already said that, Harry. Really, it's all right," she said with as much sincerity as she could manufacture under the circumstances.
Harry's hand reached from behind her to still her ministrations and she stiffened at the contact. "Then why are you crying," he stated quietly. It wasn't a question.
She sniffed inaudibly and tried to remove her hand from where it was clenched in his but he refused to let go. "I'm not," she said with as much dignity as she could and felt Harry gently use his free hand to turn her around. She closed her eyes in a last effort to hide her pain and shivered as Harry's hands ran down her arms to hold her in place.
He brought the pad of his thumb up to her cheek to clear the moisture there and whispered simply, "You are."
Even through her desire to lose herself in his intimate caress, she blinked her eyes in bewilderment at the feel of his touch. Why was Harry, the boy who shied away so frequently from physical contact this close to her, close enough to follow the tracks of tears for which he had been the cause? Some of her confusion must have shown on her face because the soft smile that he had been wearing quickly faded and he looked once again apologetic. But, she noted with a thrill of fear, he had still not moved away.
She swallowed and forced air past her vocal cords, but it came out scratchy and uncertain. "Harry…"
This time he did pull away and she felt strangely bereft in just the absence of his body warmth. He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair and avoided her imploring gaze. Why why why why, she wordlessly plead.
And although he had never seemed to master legilmency, when Harry's eyes returned to hers, he seemed to understand, for he nodded once and stepped close enough so that she could feel the warm rush of air as he began to speak. "Merlin, you must think I'm mad, but I have to tell you. You, Hermione, you've always been my best friend and the most important woman in my life. Always. I never even questioned it, it was just one of those obvious things, like Ron likes food and Harry needs Hermione."
She smiled weakly at the attempt at humor while her head spun with all the possible directions his speech could be going.
Harry reached out for her left hand and absently rubbed the pad of his thumb-the same one that had just wiped away her tears-on her silver ring, just as she had done in countless moments of anxiety. "I hadn't ever thought about what that could mean until yesterday, with Kate, the girl who somehow has so much of you in her that I felt like I was eleven again and on the lookout for mountain trolls. The girl who helped show me just how much I care for you, how much I need you, how much I love you."
Her eyes widened in pure shock at his totally unexpected admission. She wanted to assure him that she felt the same, to pledge her life for his though she already had done so silently long ago, but her voice died in her throat at the intensity in his gaze.
In contrast his voice seemed to be gaining strength as he went on. "I know I said I was sorry before, but I'm only sorry that didn't ask you how you felt before just moving your ring like that. I know that ring is important to you and you already told me that your heart belonged to someone else, so I'm sorry that I was just so…"
"Impulsive?" she suggested hoarsely.
He nodded faintly and she detected a flicker of insecurity in his eyes. She was torn between running off to think and saying something to alleviate the tension in his expression. The words tumbled out without her permission and she felt like a separate entity from what was producing such clear, fiercely passionate speech. Her body moved even closer to his and the hand wearing the clauddagh tightened around his. "Harry, if I haven't spoken, it's because you've just said everything I've been longing to hear for years now. My heart has been yours for years now."
Immediately Harry's face seemed to brighten, but he still looked deathly afraid that he had misinterpreted her. Her eyes were drawn to where his mouth was opening and closing soundlessly, and she decided that since Harry had made the first move, she would not miss the opportunity to make the second.
Slowly and with a grace she did not know she possessed, Hermione leaned in and brought her lips up to meet her best friend's for the first time. In less than a second he had responded and she acquiesced as he pulled her flush against him. Soon hands were everywhere, exploring the soft curves of skin that had previously been platonically inaccessible and she felt Harry deepen the kiss.
She had never known herself to be capable of such passion, but she welcomed the desire that coursed through her like flame and only half-heartedly chastised herself for not acting on her feelings sooner.
Echoing her thoughts, Harry pulled away and through a dazed grin said, "Wow if I had known it would be like that I would have figured out my feelings for you ages ago."
"Oh ha ha," she laughed sarcastically.
Suddenly he grew serious again. "I'm sorry, Hermione. For being such a daft git. I should have realized sooner."
She cupped his face gently, glad that she could now do so freely, and told him solemnly, "It's not important when it happened, just that it did."
When he brought his lips back to hers, she sighed and wondered to herself if she'd ever grow tired of feelings his arms around her. She weaved her fingers carefully through the thick strands of his dark hair and chuckled as her ring became momentarily ensnared.
Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she pulled away from him. "Wait, how did you know about how my clauddagh ring worked?" she asked curiously.
His bemused expression melted into one of consideration as he constructed his reply. "Well I asked Kate and she told me everything I needed to know. I thought at the time that she really did believe that I was just merely interested in the tradition, but now I think she knew all along why I was asking." He shook his head in amusement at being conned by the little girl.
Hermione found her grin widening as though Harry's smile was contagious. "She definitely takes after me then," she asserted jokingly.
"Yes, but she doesn't have one of these," he pointed out, his eyes not breaking contact. Bringing her left hand up to his face in much the same way he had with her right years before, Harry studied the tiny hands, crown, and the tip of the heart that told the world with the utmost certainty that his heart belonged to her and hers to him.
"No, she doesn't," agreed Hermione as the distance between them diminished, "but maybe we should look into getting her one."
A/N: It's over! I hope that this last bit lived up to your expectation, since it's INCREDIBLY difficult for me to write fluff. Oi. So, that's it, please leave a review on your way out!!!