Bittersweet

bubblegumlocks

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 01/05/2006
Last Updated: 29/05/2006
Status: completed

Harry's always known how he feels about Hermione, but when Ron and Hermione get married, Harry starts seeing things about her that he doesn't understand. *WARNING*Starts a very strong R/Hr, but WILL end up H/Hr. Just bear with me. *YAY!!!* I've uploaded two chapters: the last one and the epilogue.

Chapters

1. ...Then comes marriage

2. Behind the Wall

3. Waiting

4. The Trial (duh duh dunh...)

5. It gets better

6. Changes

7. And so it begins...

8. Worth the Wait

9. AUTHOR'S NOTE

10. Before

11. And After

12. The End

13. Epilogue

1. ...Then comes marriage

Twenty-three days, four hours and sixteen minutes after Voldemort was finally (and exhaustively) defeated, I watched my first and best friend propose to my other best friend.

We were at the Burrow, having gone there to celebrate (again) the announcement of the birth of Bill and Fleur’s baby girl. The proud parents had just taken her upstairs when there was a definite lull in the conversation. I was sitting on the opposite side of the room Ron and Hermione were on, avoiding them and Ginny and the twins. I was only there because I had to be and Ron would have killed me if I wasn’t.

Hermione had her back to most of the room, sitting on a stool facing Ginny, and happening to be facing me. I could watch her every gesture and smile as she spoke with my ex and everyone would think differently. They wouldn’t notice me watching her, all of my thoughts taken by her. She was confident, unlike me, of her place in this family and her eyes shone with the knowledge of such.

Ron stood up quietly and placed his finger against his lips so no one would give away his game. He snuck up behind Hermione, who hates it, and wrapped his arms around her, picking her up from the stool. She caught her feet and whirled to face him, away from me, to where I couldn’t see her face, only to have him take one knee. Her hands flew up, covering her mouth as he looked up at her, a broad grin on his face. Even from my position across the room I could see the tips of his ears turning pink. He reached slowly in his picket pulling out the traditional black jeweler’s box, opening it in front of her. I couldn’t keep a small scowl from my face.

She didn’t squeal or jump; Hermione didn’t do that. Despite me not being able to see her face, I knew tears were welling up in her eyes as she began to nod yes.

Bill and Fleur came down the steps at this, effectively breaking the silence. Spontaneous applause broke out as Mrs. Weasley dabbed her eyes with her sleeve, beaming at the couple. In the commotion I scowled and left the room. I waited a minute, waited for Hermione to notice my disappearance like she always did. Finally I disapparated home, still waiting for her.

~*~

The next few months flew by. I became busy at work for all the wrong reasons. I was avoiding both my roommates and my home because I didn’t think I could handle one more instance of them either bickering (more vicious than usual) or happily snogging (sometimes more) all over the damned place. Also, I refused to participate in the planning of the wedding, mostly because the youngest Weasley and the Weasley matriarch were shooting me identical hopeful looks. I did not want to be part of the Weasley family in that sense. Ginny was just too, well, young for me. She’s my best friend’s sister! I did still plan Ron’s stag night, my crowning involvement.

Predictably, he got trashed, along with everyone else while I sat, sober, watching them make fools of themselves. Someone had to make sure Ron got to the altar on time the next morning. I couldn’t let Hermione down like that. During the night as Ron got steadily worse, he said some things to me that I had rather not he had. He dogged Hermione left and right, for one thing. He called her “that annoying bookworm” among other things. I wanted to ask the git why he proposed then, but he passed out before I had the chance. Frustrated and angry, I took him home, throwing him on his bed and returned to my own.

Because Hermione’s parents had died in the war (Voldemort had personally murdered them) and she wanted me to be part of the wedding on her side, I reluctantly gave her away. Having done that, I stepped to Ron’s side as best man. When I gave Ron the rings, I caught her eyes. She smiled at me and I faltered.

I barely made it through the rest of the ceremony and reception without fleeing. For their wedding present I bought them a tour of wizarding France because I know it’s Hermione’s favorite country. They left just in time for me to smile once more than return home to collapse in my chair, my head in my hands.

~*~

Three weeks later they returned, Hermione her usual brown but with her arm in a sling. Ron was pink around the edges. I guess France was warm and bright. When I asked about the sling, Ron started and Hermione blushed. Inwardly I recoiled but Hermione explained she fell down the stairs at one of the museums they had toured. They were happy and smiling and returned to one room instead of two.

~*~

I didn’t mind them living with me; I actually talked them out of renting a flat together so they could save for their own house. I knew I’d be lonely without them and I know I’d miss her, them, more than I care to admit. You don’t spend practically every day for the last seven years with someone not to get used to them. We shared Grimmauld Place like I always thought we would after I accepted that it was mine. I knew we’d each have our own wing if we wanted it. I chose Sirius’ old room; I didn’t think I could at first but I kept coming back to it after making this my home. Hermione convinced me it was for the best; there I’d feel closer to him. She’s right, you know. Ron chose our old room, I’m sure out of convenience and familiarity. And Hermione took the room closest to the Black Library, of course. Now, however, they shared a new room. That happened to be just down the hall from mine.

It didn’t bother me. Except the several times I caught them going at it against the wall. The vision of Ron slamming Hermione against the wall and her whimpering like some, well, some sex-starved whore haunted my dreams from night to night. Particularly when they hadn’t renewed the silencing charm recently. And I didn’t like it when I’d bump into either of them, disheveled, on my way to the loo. Most often it was Hermione, a strap of her nightgown falling off her shoulder as she made her way to the library when she couldn’t sleep. Ron usually headed towards the kitchen, hoping for some leftovers or a mug of warm milk like his mum always had handy.

It was hard getting used to them being married, I’ll have to admit. Not the rampant, blatant obviousness of their sex life. But their everyday bickering. It increased. Exponentially. About everything. I guess it was their closer proximity that fueled it. Hermione looked more haggard and worn down and stressed. Ron, too, was tired, but he had just started Quidditch practice once they got back. Their constant bickering and sex and opposite schedules forced a strain on their new and different relationship. And I’m sure I’m part of the cause as well. More than once I’ve walked in on them to see them stop their interaction immediately.

It was driving me insane.

So I kept myself busy, much like I had during the planning of their wedding. I started to work longer hours and hang out with my coworkers more often. I got up early to fly and came home late after finishing my reports at the office.

Soon enough they had been married six months. My birthday had passed without pause. The newlyweds were busy, I was busy. We had dinner together but that was it. Hermione’s birthday passed in much the same way. I cooked her favorite breakfast and Ron took her out for dinner. They spent the weekend in their bedroom. I like to think she was teaching him to knit.

Christmas arrived. Dreary, cold, snow up to my knees and an outburst of Dark activity summed up my holidays. Ron’s season had stopped for a break at the beginning of December and he wouldn’t go back until mid-January, so he was always around the house. Hermione and I were both busy during the few final days before Christmas. It was getting close to the year anniversary of Voldemort’s demise and the natives were restless. She put in extra long hours at St. Mungo’s while I filled out file after file, report after report filled with the kind of information that puts you to sleep.

Christmas day was quiet. I made it first down the stairs to the tree we had decorated together. I organized and placed presents under the tree while I waiting for them to come down. As I entered the room carrying a tray with three mugs of hot cocoa and a plate of biscuits, Hermione padded sleepily in.

She had on her traditional Christmas pajamas: red and green flannels with a candy cane striped shirt and reindeer slippers with a nose that lit up red when you walked. Only now they were so old only one of the lights worked and then only intermittently. She was pushing sleep from her eyes when I set the tray down. I greeted her with a “Happy Christmas” and noticed she had a black eye.

I crossed to her and gingerly touched it. “How’d you do this?” I asked her.

She smiled guiltily and looked at me. “Oh, I hit it on the towel rack last night before I went to bed.” She laughed shakily. “I’m so clumsy sometimes.”

I smiled back but I was a little suspicious. Hermione had never usually been clumsy; that was Tonks. I saw her when she came out of the loo last night and she was not sporting a new shiner. My musings were halted though when Ron walked into the room.

“At last,” I grinned at him. He threw a pillow at me.

We all exchanged a look and then, as one, dove into our respective piles of gifts. It was great living with my two best friends, especially on mornings like Christmas.

~*~

For Ron’s birthday Hermione and I threw a surprise party at the Burrow. We invited everyone: his teammates, family, friends from school, random people off the street, you name it. Ron loves meeting new people and celebrating his birthday, so that was no problem. Mrs. Weasley insisted on cooking, which was lucky because Ron loves his mum’s cooking almost as much as he loves Quidditch. The party went off without a hitch and Ron made some new friends. Or groupies. Quite a few were female, but that fazed neither me nor Hermione (oddly enough). We got home early the next morning after staying to clean up and bringing home a tipsy Ron.

They forgot their silencing charm that night. They woke me up, which is disturbing in and of itself. But what I heard… Hermione is one lucky woman based on the screams I heard before I placed my own silencing charm over their room. The morning after Ron’s birthday found me grumpy in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast that I shoved in my mouth. Hermione came in shortly after I began staring at the table. She looked worse than I felt. As she reached for my cup to refill it I noticed scratches on her arm, as well as bruising around her elbow. She missed my inquisitive glance and she didn’t seem to favor it so I knew she was alright.

It still bothered me though. She returned my cup with a smile that promptly distracted me. We talked a little before we both had to leave. Ron was still in bed; practice didn’t start until the afternoon.

Lunch time came and I remembered Hermione’s weird bruising. I dropped by the hospital to take her to lunch so we could talk. I hoped to probe slightly, the good Auror I am, to find answers to the questions I wouldn’t ask. Lucky for me she wasn’t busy and we walked to the nearby café. She chatted happily about her day so far and about how her special patients were progressing. I complained about paperwork, like I always do. She just punched me on the shoulder and laughed.

During lunch I probed and prodded but for nothing. Either Hermione had been brushing up on her Occlumency or I had lost my touch. Her bruises were too new for me not to be suspicious. However, we parted ways with plans for dinner that night since Ron would still be in practice.

~*~

We were in the middle of doing dishes the good ol’ Muggle way when Ron came home. I had just splashed Hermione with a flick of a spoon when she retaliated by pouring a whole pan full of water over my head and onto the floor. She tried to make a run for it but slipped on the water, grabbing me so she wouldn’t fall. We were laughing so hard and having such a good time together (especially since they had gotten married) that we didn’t hear him come in until after she had pulled me down with her. I just happened to land mostly on top of her when Ron stormed in looking absolutely livid. I stood up quickly as he yanked Hermione to her feet. To my surprise he pulled her out of the kitchen despite both our stunned and ineffective protests. I heard him slam their bedroom door. Perplexed, I finished the dishes and cleaned the kitchen myself.

I didn’t see either of them for the rest of the night. I returned to my room, deep in thought. Ron’s reaction had really surprised me. I mean, he’s always been a little jealous but not like that, especially about me. I surmised practice must have gone badly and he was just stressed out. I know when I’m down the last thing I want to hear is two people laughing. Well, except if one of them is Hermione.

The house was quiet again in the morning as I left for work. There wasn’t much left for me to do, as it was a Tuesday, so I skipped lunch and went home early.

~*~

A/N: The title of the story ultimately has nothing to do with the plot, I just like the way it sounded. Okay, well, it kind of has a point. Here’s a hint of what’s to come: If you haven’t listened to Harmony Podcast #9, then you really need to. It, and a couple songs that you’ll see later, inspired this fic.

Also, I hoped the R/Hr didn’t turn you off! Stay tuned.

2. Behind the Wall

A/N: Okay, you talked me into it. I’m surprised how quickly I’ve gotten reviews, so I’m giving you a treat. Here’s the next chapter. Don’t get used to it though. The next one won’t be out until at least tomorrow.

To my surprise, Hermione was home already. She was on the couch, looking absolutely miserable.

“What’s wrong Hermione? Why are you home so early?”

Mechanically she turned to face me. She wiped her eyes first before speaking. “I found Crookshanks dead in the garden this morning.” She sobbed and put a hand over her eyes.

I crossed to her, kneeling at her feet. “I’m so sorry.” I held her hand tightly as she cried again. A Death Eater had intercepted Hedwig and sent her back to me in two separate boxes. I knew how she felt. When she calmed down enough to breathe normally she hugged me. “Thank you, Harry, for letting me cry on your shoulder,” she whispered in my ear. She pulled back and I saw her smile weakly. We embraced again and I just held her, smelling her soft hair. Eventually we let go and I sat on the couch, where she joined me.

We remembered first meeting Crookshanks and his quirks. He had never really liked Ron but had a soft spot for me. I knew where he liked to be scratched. After a while we just sat there until she fell asleep in my arms.

I gently removed myself from her and walked outside to our garden. I saw Crookshanks immediately. It looked like his neck had been broken. I looked at him, then at the tree and then at the birdbath. I figured he had gone after a bird and in his haste didn’t stick the landing. I quickly buried him at the foot of his favourite tree and marked the spot to show Hermione later.

When I got back inside Ron was home, standing in the living room shooting dark looks at his wife. I frowned, confused, but greeted him nevertheless. He complained about practice and my frown relaxed. I nodded to Hermione and informed Ron that Crookshanks had died. He shrugged and looked at her again before climbing the stairs to their room.

~*~

Later that night I found Hermione still asleep on the couch. I levitated her up the stairs and knocked for Ron to receive her. I crept back to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Already I missed Crookshanks’ presence when he didn’t beg me for some of my snack.

When I returned upstairs I passed an awake Hermione in the hall. She was stumbling against the walls like she couldn’t see in the dark and had forgotten where to go. I touched her shoulder and she flinched before she turned around. My eyes narrowed as she smiled brightly then continued on her way.

I was really starting to get confused. Hermione had been acting very strangely as of late and I was starting to slip into over-protective mode. She had recently had bruises and scratches on her arms that I’m sure did not come from Crookshanks. Christmas she had a black eye. The other night Ron had been acting oddly too. And if memory serves me correctly, she had been sporting a sling when they got back from their honeymoon. I still couldn’t put my finger on what exactly was wrong though.

~*~

Until I heard her throwing up the next morning. I walked by the loo to hear retching and moaning. Hermione was sweaty and pale and hugging the toilet. I couldn’t help it but I blurted out “Are you pregnant?”

She looked horrified. She tried to shake her head no but another onslaught overtook her answer. I went to hold her hair back for her. She explained to me that she had caught a regular Muggle stomach flu from a patient at work. Based on my earlier musings I was immediately suspicious. Wizards, or more specifically, witches do not catch normal Muggle colds, even Muggleborn witches. Granted, Hermione worked in a hospital, but she hadn’t been there yesterday and the day before she had been happy and healthy. I was about to ask her again when she answered my question.

“I’m positive I’m not pregnant. I did the charm myself. I’ve tested negative the past three times.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. I was still suspicious though. Why would she be throwing up so much if she hadn’t eaten the day before, wasn’t pregnant, and couldn’t possibly have a Muggle stomach flu?

After more meetings with the porcelain god, she stood up shaky but better. She smiled wearily at me. “Thanks for holding my hair back.” She brushed passed me and into her room.

~*~

I made Hermione stay home from work again on the condition that I actually go. I finished early again and arrived home shortly after lunch time. I made myself a sandwich in the kitchen, bypassing the living room in hopes that I wouldn’t disturb a sleeping Hermione.

As I finished my last bite and washed it down with a glass of chilled pumpkin juice I heard a shout coming from the hall upstairs. Curious and wary I tiptoed out of the kitchen and to the foot of the stairs. I heard two voices but I couldn’t make out any words. I figured they didn’t know I was home yet but I could tell it wasn’t sex this time and I started to walk away.

Until I heard her scream. It wasn’t an enraged scream like I had heard often enough at Hogwarts. And it wasn’t a joyous scream either. It was a painful, spine-tingling, fear-inducing, skin-crawling scream for help. I was terrified someone was attacking Hermione while she was alone in the house. I disillusioned myself and climbed the stairs as quickly and as quietly as I could.

To my surprise and increasing horror it was not an intruder assaulting Hermione. It was Ron. Rage clouded my vision as I saw him repeatedly hit her with his fists. I saw him tower over her, backing her into the wall. She cowered against it, crying, screaming, pleading for him to stop.

Last night I heard the screaming

Loud voices behind the wall

Another sleepless night for me

It won’t do no good

To call

The police

Always come late if they come at all

I couldn’t move. It was like a nightmare; I was helpless and could do nothing but watch.

Last night I heard the screaming

Loud voices behind the wall

Another sleepless night for me

It won’t do no good

To call

The police

Always come late if they come at all

He struck her again and again, moving her to the stairs. With one last bellow, he kicked her in the ribs where she lay sprawled on the floor.

And when they arrive

They say they can’t interfere with domestic affairs

Between a man and his wife

And as they walk out the door the tears well up in her eyes

As he tried to go for her again she scrambled to get away only to fall headfirst down the stairs.

Last night I heard the screaming

Then a silence that chilled my soul

Prayed that I was dreaming

When I saw the ambulance in the road

And the policeman said

I’m here to keep the peace

Will the crowd disperse?

I think we all could use some sleep

I snapped to. I watched her fall slowly, cursing myself and Ron for not stepping in. I flew past him down the stairs, knocking him against the wall in my haste to get to her. My disillusionment charm had worn off during my rage and flight. Hermione opened her eyes once and she smiled at me as I cradled her face in my hands.

Last night I heard the screaming

Loud voices behind the wall

Another sleepless night for me

It won’t do no good

To call

The police

Always come late if they come at all

“I’ll take care of you,” I whispered to her. “I won’t let him hurt you again.” Her body collapsed, finally giving into the intense pain. I flipped her emergency badge and waited for the Healers to arrive. They were efficient and didn’t ask questions, but told me she’d be okay and ready for visitors in a few hours. Without really hearing them I nodded and went to find Ron.

He was still knocked out against the wall. Which wasn’t enough. When I saw Hermione fall, everything that I had been confused about clicked into place. Ron had been beating her since their honeymoon and I had been oblivious to it all. It made me sick. I had to turn away from him so I wouldn’t kill him. Taking a deep breath, I turned back to him. I was still surprised and shocked when I thought about Hermione staying with that scumbag. Ron. The longer I looked at him the angrier and more hurt I grew. He was our best friend. Ron. What right had he to do this? To destroy her like this? And how could she have stayed with him after all of that?

Then I noticed Ron had his wand in his hand. All of Hermione’s weak excuses and abnormal clumsiness and her general cluelessness about her injuries suddenly made sense. Ron, that bastard, had modified her memory. I took his wand with me when I went to visit Hermione. I decided to be the better man and let her deal with him when she woke up. I would let her rip him limb from limb once she found out.

~*~

It took me three hours and a lot of throwing my name around (and signing autographs) for them to allow me to visit Hermione.

They told me only family was allowed and only during visitor hours that had just ended five minutes ago. Which was crap because it wasn’t more than four o’clock when I got there.

They also told me she had suffered complications. They had found traces of an as yet unknown potion in her system that caused a total shutdown after the trauma had occurred. She was in a coma and they weren’t sure when she’d wake.

I told them succinctly that I would be staying there until she did, which they agreed to. But I’m sure it was only after I reminded them that 1) I had defeated Voldemort a year ago and 2) Voldemort was nothing compared to what I could do to them if they stood in my way. Of course, not the smartest thing to say, especially when there’s a budding Skeeter in the lobby. The Daily Prophet all but sent out pamphlets with that news.

~*~

A/N: I personally believe that Ron would never do this, but I do think the R/Hr relationship could be just as destructive, at least on an emotional level.

The song is “Behind the Wall” by Tracy Chapman, one of my all-time favorite songs. It’s very chilling to listen to. I recommend it if you can find it.

Also, THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! I can’t believe how quickly they came. I had three within the first hour of it being posted! And where I’m at, it was pretty late when I posted it! You guys are making me a whore…

3. Waiting

A/N: I want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far! I can’t believe how quickly they have come and how nice they all are. Here’s what you’ve been begging for. *wink*

I woke with a pain in my neck and a bad taste in my mouth. I was long past waking up disoriented; Hermione had been in the hospital for more than three weeks now. It had gotten to the point that I had to go to work, at least once a week so they couldn’t sack me. I glanced at her still and pale body covered in regulation white sheets. It hurt to look at her.

I stretched and stood up, running a hand casually through my hair. I walked over to her, sitting in my place. I took her hand in mine and brushed her hair back from her face. The Healers said there was still a good chance she’d fully recover but they still didn’t know when. Ginny came by after the first week, shameful and apologetic. She stopped cold in the doorway when she saw me but I shrugged and left the room. When I came back I noticed that Ginny had been crying. She stood up to leave then threw her arms around me, apologizing to me. She left in a hurry. She’s been back every Wednesday to watch over Hermione while I check on things back home.

I was still attempting to hold off judgment on Ron, at least until Hermione woke up. It wasn’t my decision, or even my right to press charges on Hermione’s behalf. So we had to wait. I found out he had tried to visit but I had already told the Healers and receptionists to refuse his entry. They knew what he had done.

The first week of watching Hermione passed very slowly. I jumped to her side at every noise, thinking, hoping, praying she was awake again. I never left except for necessity like food or her bath. I forgot to shave, to work, I even forgot Ron. I was so worried and wrapped up in Hermione that everything and everyone else was shunted away. Ginny’s arrival actually opened my eyes a little.

The second week prompted more tests for Hermione and much contemplation for me. The Healers pronounced her fully healthy, except for the face that she was still unconscious. They ran many scans and actually sampled her blood. It came as a big shock that the potion could have been an innocuous aphrodisiac or a mild poison. Either way, my blood boiled as I thought of yet another thing Ron had forced upon Hermione. He had probably brewed it himself and caused her coma in more ways than one. The good news was that the trace amounts were gone, and there should be no lasting effects.

When I wasn’t sitting next to her on the bed, I sat in the chair by the window. I had had Hermione moved to a private room as soon as possible. She had a view, albeit a magical one. I would sit and stare, or sometimes pace. I thought of the first time the three of us met, on the train to Hogwarts. Everything was normal. Ron and I became friends, brothers, quickly and Hermione shortly thereafter. The more I thought about her, and him, their relationship and our relationship, the angrier I became at myself. Things were becoming more obvious and more disturbing and I should have noticed years ago. They had always argued, always sniped. Things changed and became vicious during our sixth year and never stopped. I shook my head slowly before resting it in my hands. Merlin, I was stupid. Those memories also make me realize again how much I truly cared for her, once for both of them.

And Ron destroyed that. He betrayed my trust, me. He destroyed Hermione. He beat her, he abused her. He probably raped her and might even have forced her into marriage. And I fell for his lame excuses and cover-ups. I saw him become darker and withdrawn and angrier. I knew something was different with him; I knew something had changed between them. I could never forgive him for what he did to Hermione. Ron is no longer my friend. A brother wouldn’t do that.

My thoughts were distracted when a Healer came into the room. I squeezed Hermione’s hand and bent over to kiss her forehead. I watched as the Healer performed his diagnostics and left. I sat in my chair again and thought about the previous week.

On Wednesday Ginny visited and brought the Weasley clan with her. I couldn’t stomach all those who resembled Ron, so I fled. I returned to Grimmauld Place and broke down completely. I threw pictures at the wall; shattering glass and shrieking pictures tormented my ears. I tried to drink but ended up throwing the tumbler and decanter at the wall as well. I went to Ron and Hermione’s room and fired curses at everything I knew Hermione wouldn’t care was gone. I set their bed on fire only to extinguish and relight it again. I cried and laughed and screamed until I was exhausted. I put the rest of Ron’s things in a box and dropped it down the stairs to the basement to collect dust. I showered and returned to St. Mungo’s to find Ginny sleeping in my chair, the rest of the Weasley’s gone. I gently nudged her and drew up a chair next to her.

We watched Hermione in silence. She was so still and so pale and it was breaking my heart. I sighed and slumped in my chair.

“You love her.” Ginny spoke quietly, matter-of-factly.

I hung my head. I could tell she was still waiting for an answer a moment later. I took a deep breath and looked at the girl that would always hold a soft spot I my heart, especially after her support. “Yes.”

The word was loud and powerful in the otherwise quiet room though I had barely spoken above a whisper.

Ginny stood up and crossed to the window, silent. I watched her struggle with my bald admission. “How long?” she whispered.

I sighed. No matter what I said it would hurt her. “Probably since fourth year.” She swung around and looked at me. I heard her sharp intake of breath as the fact hit her. She quickly sat down. “I didn’t realize it until we started actively pursuing Voldemort though. She was so supportive and caring despite her developing relationship with Ro—your brother. She put herself into danger so many times.” I shook my head and glanced over at Hermione’s still body. I got up and walked over to her, sitting by her side and taking her hand. Looking back at Ginny I continued. “I realized then that I couldn’t imagine days without her, without seeing her face. She’s been my one constant throughout the years.” I ran my empty hand through my hair. “Giving her away at their wedding just about killed me Ginny. She smiled at me and I prayed the ground would open up and swallow me. And then for her to end up like this?” I got off the bed and began to pace in front of Ginny. “I feel like this is all my fault. If I had told her how I felt, this wouldn’t have happened. She wouldn’t be in a coma for Merlin knows how long. I wouldn’t want to kill Ron for how he’s hurt her. They wouldn’t be married and I wouldn’t feel so hopeless.”

I stopped my pacing to stand in front of Ginny. I saw tears in her eyes. “Oh, no Ginny. I’m sorry. Don’t you cry, too.”

She smiled weakly at me, brushing the tears away. “I hope, one day, I will find a man that loves me half as much as you do her.”

I blushed and returned to my chair. We stayed silent for a while, both watching Hermione again. Ginny crossed to the bed and touched Hermione’s hand, then turned to me. She hugged me fiercely and went on her way.

Since then I’ve been, well, complacent. Hermione is a stubborn woman and does what she wants. Not even my best puppy dog eyes will help her wake up. I’ve never felt quite so helpless.

~*~

I woke up disoriented for the first time in weeks. The room was dark, and the normal room sounds were, well, normal. I blinked rapidly to clear my vision and focused on the bed.

Hermione was whimpering and thrashing. I jumped out of my chair and ran to her bed. I grabbed one of her hands and rubbed it, trying to soothe her. My eyes burned when she flinched and pulled it back, her eyes still closed. She moaned and I thought my heart would break. She sounded so distraught and afraid and hurt. I looked at her again, then crossed to her door to summon a Healer. I was shunted to the side when three or four arrived and tried to calm her. I could do nothing as they turned their wands on her to sedate her. One turned to me apologetically and smiled tentatively before they all left. I scowled as the door shut.

She was not awake yet but they had no right to bind her, especially magically. I sat by her side and smoothed her hair back from her flushed face. She flinched again but I kept on. I was incensed by how the Healers had treated her but I knew I couldn’t let Hermione see or feel or hear or sense any of my anger if I hoped her to recover. I stayed with her through the night, trying to soothe her nerves. Finally the troubled look left her face shortly after dawn.

The next few days showed some progression. She still hadn’t opened her eyes but she was vocalizing now. Only it was horrific. She had nightmares that she couldn’t wake up from every night and I heard replays of the past year, her entire marriage. I was sickened and guilty. Hermione sounded helpless. Hermione, the strongest woman I knew, sounded helpless and scared. I forced myself to breathe calmly and eventually leave the room before I decided to go after Ron. The Healers’ tests all came out normal and they felt her nightmares were a breakthrough. I thought of how if Hermione were her own patient, she would already have found a solution to wake up.

Finally, five weeks after being admitted, I heard her weak voice wake me up. I immediately crossed to her and she smiled, a ghost of herself. I know I had tears in my eyes as I hugged her tightly. She held me, sobbing until she couldn’t hold herself up any longer. I told her how long she had been out and how everyone was worried about her. I brushed back her hair out of habit and she flinched but allowed it. I smiled sheepishly at her inquisitive look. I was about to explain but a Healer entered, and upon finding her awake, bustled me out for a while.

I flooed and owled as many as I could to tell the good news. I did as much as I could for distraction, but I found myself outside her door again.

I waited until my patience gave out and knocked. The Healer opened the door and allowed me in, leaving herself. I crossed to Hermione, holding up tea from the cafeteria. She smiled weakly and gestured me over. I set the tea on her table and she beckoned me to sit down. She took my hands in hers and looked at me. I sighed inwardly and gritted my teeth; I knew that look. She rubbed her thumb across my knuckles and asked the question I most dreaded.

“Why am I here Harry? What exactly happened?”

I ran a hand though my hair nervously and sighed. “What is the last thing you remember and I’ll go from there.”

She frowned and bit her lip in concentration. I smiled at the familiar gesture. She frowned harder as she gathered facts in her head. I wasn’t surprised by the next thing she said.

“Well, I remember you defeating Voldemort.” She took a breath and looked at our joined hands. “I remember Ron and a little box and me in a white dress. I remember working here and all of my coworkers. I remember going to a few of Ron’s games. I think I remember Christmas, or at least wearing my Christmas pajamas.” She paused again, this time to wipe her eyes. “I remember now that Crookshanks died.” She looked at me with increasing horror. “I…” She faltered and looked down again. “I remember Ron hitting me and stairs and your face.” Tears were falling as she realized the implication. “That’s not very much, is it?”

I shook my head sadly. “Hermione, what is your last name?”

She scowled at me. “Granger.”

I shook my head again. “You and Ron were married about a year ago.” Her hand flew to her mouth. She stared at me like I was Fluffy. The next part would be terribly difficult for me. I choked it out the best I could, pausing after each word to control my anger. “I have reason to believe that Ron forced you into it, especially from what you’ve just told me. I also know he’s been abusing you, then erasing your memory to fool me and your friends. You’ve been here for five weeks, unconscious, because he practically tried to kill you.” I sighed and turned away from her. “He beat you until you fell down the stairs, as you remember. If I hadn’t come home early I wouldn’t have caught him in the act. He had his wand in his hand.” I crumpled. “I’m so sorry Hermione. I’m so sorry he did this to you, that I didn’t stop him.” I turned back to her.

She was crying now. “You’ve been having nightmares steadily for the last few days. I think the trauma of you reliving the abuse is what caused you to wake. I’m so sorry Hermione. I should have stopped him sooner. I should have known. Some Auror I am. I had noticed something was different with the both of you but I didn’t think he’d do this. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” She squeezed my hand and I instantly felt guiltier. “Hermione, I…” I sighed.

She was silent for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling. I watched her, like I had for five weeks.

“Where do I go from here, Harry?” She looked at me. “Where should I go from here?”

4. The Trial (duh duh dunh...)

I thought once Hermione woke up we’d be able to go home and relax. I thought we’d have peace for her to recover emotionally and be strong enough to confront Ron.

I didn’t expect reporters in the waiting room. The Healers ran their last tests and confirmed Hermione was ready to go home. The vultures had amassed and shouted out as one once we entered the lobby. I glared angrily at the receptionist who merrily waved her autograph in the air. Light bulbs flashed and the crowd pushed in around us. Hermione gripped my hand tighter as they tried to pull her away. I could feel her falter and was relieved when Ginny pushed her way through. She shielded Hermione and helped us force our way out to the street.

I knew the reporters wouldn’t follow us outside, at least at first or even all at once. Too many restrictions and I’m sure enough of them had been fined before. I expected to be able to cross the street peacefully and finally return home.

Again my expectations were thrashed. Fate was having a field day with me and Hermione, laughing her arse off.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. I heard Hermione gasp and Ginny growl before I opened my eyes again. I had thought Skeeter or even normal reporters were bad enough. Ron was standing in the street, blocking our way forward. Waiting, his hands shoved in his pockets and his head hung.

I saw red and it wasn’t Ron’s hair. Before I could even shout one thought at him though, Ginny flew in front of me and slapped him as hard as she could. I whistled through my teeth, stunned. Hermione gently squeezed my hand and I turned to look at her.

She was deathly pale and on the verge of collapsing. I took her in my arms quickly and apparated home, but not before I heard Ron groan in pain.

Once at Grimmauld Place, I settled Hermione into her old bedroom. I tucked her into bed, kissing her forehead and leaving a glass of water on the table next to her. I found Ginny in the kitchen nursing a butterbeer. I raised my eyebrows and she grinned.

“What was that all about?” I jerked my head back.

She smiled wryly. “Let’s just say a sensitive part of Ron’s anatomy had an appointment with a rather sharp part of mine.”

I couldn’t help but wince.

~*~

During the next week we settled into a routine. Hermione had been given leave from St. Mungo’s until she was up to dealing with daily drama. She spent her days either in the garden or the library. I went back to work twice in one week, only to find more paperwork than ever. I was given good news though; I had been assigned to protect Hermione as an official Auror escort to the proceedings. Ron’s trial was set for mid-June and she only had a few weeks to prepare and protect herself.

I’d watch her when I didn’t think she was looking. She was thinner than she’d ever been and her eyes held little spark, even when she was explaining something to me. She constantly shivered and still flinched from personal contact. She was heartbreaking and still had a long way to go. I was doing the best I could to support her, but it killed me to watch her like that.

A week before his trial I came home to a dark house. Immediately I assumed the worse. I began calling for her and turning on all the lights in the house. I hoped to find some trace of her, a ransom note, Hermione, something. I was starting to feel hysterical until I walked into the library. It was lit with a single candle. Hermione, her head on the table surrounded by books, was sleeping. It took everything I had not to scoop her up in my arms and hold her until I wasn’t worried anymore. Instead I paused, just looking at her. I sighed wearily and shook her shoulder gently to wake her up.

She looked at me bleary-eyed as I slid into the chair next to her. Before I was even settled she threw herself into my arms and on my lap. Stunned, I just patted her back until I heard a sob. I pushed her gently back and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“What is it Hermione?”

She shook her head and sobbed, clutching me closer. I smoothed her hair and rubbed her back until she stopped shaking. I tried to gently push her back to see her face again but she burrowed closer. I sighed. “Hermione…”

I felt her take a deep breath. She began speaking, a little muffled but it was better than nothing. “I had a dream. I dreamt that Ron and I were fighting and yelling and he hit me.” I sucked in a breath. “He just kept hitting me. I saw you out of the corner of my eye; you launched yourself at him. He stopped hitting me and went after you, only he was still yelling at me. He hit you so much and you fell down the stairs, like I did. Only…” She started shaking again. “Only you died. And Ron came back to me and started hitting me again.” I held her close as I thought of what she had said. I shuddered to think what would have happened to her if I had fallen. “Harry,” she said in a small voice. “I’m so scared Harry. I don’t want him to hurt me anymore. I don’t want him to hurt us anymore.”

My jaw clenched. Seeing Hermione so weak was killing me, hurting me worse than waiting in the hospital for her to wake. I held her close and kissed her hair as I rocked her back and forth. The sobbing and shaking subsided, then I felt her breathe evenly. I knew she was asleep but I was afraid if I left her she’d have another nightmare. I tried to get as comfortable as I could in the chair and went to sleep myself.

~*~

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” I glanced over at her. Our hands had been clasped since we apparated to the Ministry. Hermione was calm and polished with her hair tied at the nape of her neck. She’s still too thin but she’s regained some color. I have newfound respect for her as I looked at her cool exterior. I could feel her shaking through our hands but I knew she’s trying to be strong, at least until we are at home.

We’d been running through the Ministry to get to Ron’s trial on time. She’s been so scared recently that I’m glad it’s finally here and we can get it over with. Ginny has been really supportive in coaching Hermione to relax. She still flinches slightly at some contact but she’s done really well in suppressing that.

I heard her sigh before she answered me. “Yes, Harry, for the last time. We are here to do this and I am ready.” She stopped in the hallway and turned me to face her. “I want Ron to suffer as much as he’s made me suffer, but this has to be done right. He needs to be punished for what he’s done to me.” She paused to cup my face in her hands. My breath catches. “I want to hurt him like he’s hurt me, us.” She pulled her hands abruptly away. “That’s why we’re here. To take vengeance out of our hands.” She grabbed mine again, automatically. “Harry I’m proud of you for not giving into your anger that night. He needs to see justice, but not at your hands.” She gave mine a squeeze.

We stopped in front of the lift. She turned to face me slowly, then pulled me into a hug. She’s fierce and I could feel her sobbing against me. I smoothed her hair back, then kissed the top of her head. She pulled back smiling. I wiped her tears away with my thumbs and she leaned into my hand, her eyes closed. The lift opens and we entered silently, waiting for our floor.

The courtroom is cold and unwelcoming, like they didn’t believe our allegations even before we had entered the room. It’s really hard for me to watch my former best friend tell the court that he’s the innocent party and Hermione is a whore. Ginny sat next to Hermione and took her hand at this. I’m as far from Ron as I can get and still I’m not far enough away. I tried to take deep cleansing breaths but all I could see was Hermione’s face as she cowered in fear and fell down the stairs. Hermione volunteered to testify under Veritaserum and was brilliant. She couldn’t remember much of before her hospital visit because of Ron’s memory charms, but what she does recall is startlingly perfect. It’s horrific and I can barely relive it. I saw Ron’s jaw clench and his ears turn pink as he heard his wife testify against him. I’m allowed to leave the courtroom for a quick break before my turn. I, too, will testify under Veritaserum. I hope I have the same composure Hermione had. Once I was finished, we were dismissed for deliberations.

After all the evidence was gathered and deliberations ceased, we entered the courtroom again. As the Auror in charge of her protection, I was allowed to sit by Hermione for protection after the verdict. We both held our breath as Ron stood. He looked over at us with such hatred and jealousy that I snapped back in my chair, shocked. I could not believe that my best friend of almost eight years could feel that strongly against me. Hermione had finally broken down and was sobbing quietly next to me. She had been strong for so long and I was proud of her poise. I put my arm around her, pulling her closer. I handed Ron’s wand to the clerk, who snapped it in front of Ron. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban for the attempted murder of Hermione Weasley.

I wasn’t satisfied. Ron deserved to be thrashed, tarred and feathered, stoned, anything. My own godfather escaped Azkaban; Barty Crouch Jr escaped Azkaban. Hermione put her hand on my arm before I could jump out of my chair. She leaned over and whispered, “Ron’s not an animagus, nor will his parents help him.” I stared at her.

“But…”

“It’s okay Harry. He can’t hurt me anymore. They are taking him away.”

“Hermione!”

“Look,” she said harshly. “There is nothing we can do or say that will change minds. You and I both know what he’s done and what he deserves. He is being punished the best way the Ministry knows how. We can only accomplish one thing at a time, Harry.” She touched my shoulder, her voice softer. “He won’t escape, he won’t come after me and he can’t hurt me anymore. That’s all that matters now. I want to put this behind me as soon as possible and you aren’t helping. I want to never look back; I want to move on with my life.”

I still envisioned hanging Ron from a noose or breaking out a guillotine, but Hermione’s words made sense in a small part of my brain. We could be better people and accept what was dished out or we could fight and not get anywhere. I sighed. I didn’t have to like it. Hermione was the victim. I chose to leave Ron’s judgment to her because I knew I wouldn’t handle it properly. If she was satisfied then I needed to be.

Except for one small thing. “Are you still married to him then?”

Her jaw dropped. “I forgot all about that, honestly. He is no husband of mine.”

We walked over to the nearest clerk, who was efficient enough to find a better person for us to talk to. Hermione filed for divorce on grounds of being forced into marriage and the fact that her husband had tried to murder her. Unfortunately, divorce proceedings in the wizarding world take much longer than sessions in court.

5. It gets better

A/N: This is a sort of short chapter, but hopefully it will satisfy some appetites while I write the next one. I can’t believe the response I’ve been getting! Thanks to all of those who have read, and especially to those that have reviewed. You make me feel so special and awesome (yes, I know, I’m a dork).

FREAK ACCIDENT CLAIMS 7

Boy Who Lived’s Best Friend Among the Number?

This reporter is stunned to bring you the news that one Ronald Weasley, 19 (turn to page 8 for recent trial news), died early this morning in a freak accident that claimed the lives of six others. The Boy Who Lived’s best friend, who was recently sentenced to life in Azkaban, was on transit to the island fortress when a nearby building collapsed. The condemned building (see page 11 for news of the Ministry’s reaction) had been abandoned for years and finally fell down, crushing Weasley and his guards. The rubble then caught fire, mangling the bodies and charring the bones (for pictures, see page 3) of the seven. No word yet on how Potter or the former Mrs. Weasley (see archives Vol. VII and Vol. VIII for further information) are taking the news.

~*~

I entered the kitchen to find an overexcited owl and a hysterical Hermione three days after the trial. She was mopping up a mug off the floor with her bare hands. Her hair was falling in her face and she was crying. I noticed the mug was cutting her hands and she was making a bigger mess than she was cleaning. I paid the bird, then picked up Hermione. I gave her a fresh mug and sat down at the table across from her. Without a word she slid the Prophet towards me.

I stared at the paper, shocked. Ron, dead? I understood why Hermione had been on the floor. I ran my hands through my hair, then leaned on my elbows at the table. Just the other day I had been picturing all kinds of horrific deaths for him, at my hands. And now that he’s actually gone? I sighed again and glanced over at Hermione. She was nursing her tea and staring at the wall. Despite what he did to Hermione, he was still our friend for so long and now he’s gone. I had expected and even hoped he would rot in Azkaban for a long time, hearing of his death when I had grandchildren or something. But for him to die before he even reached the island? I couldn’t help but feel cheated in a way. Yet at the same time I was mourning the loss, in more than one way, of a good friend. I could tell Hermione was going through the same dilemma. Now we knew for sure he was gone, but now he was gone. I was so confused, angry and sad. I left the kitchen abruptly and spent the day in my room.

~*~

Ginny told me later that Ron’s funeral was more than he deserved. She said she wished that it had been an open casket so she could have spit in his face, but the excavators had found not much more than a few charred bones and fragments. She told me with a hard look that she kicked the stone though. She had gone out of obligation to her brother, family, but she was the only Weasley there. She had also been only one of four at his burial. She told me she wore yellow for spite.

June passed quickly for us. Hermione was recovering only as she could; it made me happier to hear her laugh and see her smile, even if it was fleeting. She returned to work about a week after the trial and came home exhausted every night. I tried to do my best at being an Auror again. I went in daily and completed all of my paperwork on time. I was tired of the job though. It held no interest for me anymore. I guess I was just emotionally drained after trying to be strong for Hermione for so long. I asked for my birthday off and I could tell they had been waiting for an excuse. I was told that I had taken too much time off recently and that I wasn’t enthusiastic enough for the job. I packed the few pictures I had and turned in my badge. That night I cooked a huge meal and invited Ginny over for celebration. It was the most relief I had felt since the afternoon the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders. I was no longer living and doing something I thought I had to do. Hermione came home to her favorite smells and Ginny and I laughing in the kitchen.

Dinner passed at a leisurely pace. We spent hours at the table, just chatting. Hermione spoke little, but laughed at Ginny’s tales of working in the twins’ shop. I watched them both. Ginny was so bright and obviously happy that I couldn’t help but smile as she spoke. Hermione was darker in everything; her hair, her eyes, the tone of her voice. She smiled and laughed but her eyes were still haunted. She was quieter than Ginny, but every bit as much of a presence. She drew my attention more often than Ginny but I knew she didn’t notice. I thought her beautiful in spite of and perhaps because of her scars. She was so strong still; I could tell that she truly did want to put everything behind her and was making great strides towards that. I was proud of her and honoured to know them both.

~*~

I woke up with nothing to do. July was waning and I wasn’t looking forward to celebrating my next birthday. I bought an owl for myself, but didn’t name him. He would never be the owl that Hedwig was. I used him to send Neville birthday greetings and congratulations. Ginny found out that he was to train under Professor Sprout as she was retiring in the next few years. I was glad to hear he was becoming so successful at something he loved so much.

I wish I could say the same for me. Hermione was becoming more withdrawn the closer it became to my birthday. She left for work with hardly a word and went straight to her room upon arriving home. I was worried but every time I tried to talk she’d be sleeping. I thought I heard her crying behind her door but it was locked and I knew I couldn’t break it.

I thought I’d surprise her one afternoon for lunch. I arrived at St. Mungo’s a few minutes before her usual lunch time and waited outside her office. When she saw me she was surprised and immediately tried to shoo me away.

“Hermione, wait!” I cried as I reached for her elbow. I missed and she kept walking. I ran to catch up and fell into step beside her. We walked in silence to the cafeteria. I sat with her and watched as she ate methodically. I waited for her to say something until I couldn’t wait any longer.

I rested my hand on top of hers. “What is it? What is it that has kept you so exhausted lately?” She shook her head. “Why can’t you tell me? Why are you shutting me out?” I gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

To my horror she started crying. She took a deep breath and began. “Harry, I’m not good at my job anymore. I see all these sick people and I try to help but I can’t. I look at them and I see me or you or Ginny. I’m not doing things on time and every time I see blood I feel faint. I’ve asked another Healer to check on me, but their results are the same as mine.” She looked at me and sighed. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t help people anymore.” She stood up quickly. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you at home.” I watched in silence as she ran out of the room.

~*~

My birthday fell on a rainy day. I didn’t look any older but I felt about eight years older than I did last year. My best friends were married and I was alone and miserable. Now one of my friends was dead and the other was miserable while I was actually happy. For the most part.

I sat in the library and stewed all morning. I brooded in the afternoon. When Hermione came home I was still sitting in the library, staring at the shelves in the dark. She crossed to me, hugged me and wished me a Happy Birthday. I felt her watch me and then turn to leave. With reflexes I hadn’t used in well over a year I grabbed her wrist before she was out of reach. I pulled her close and just looked at her. I knew she was shocked, but she looked at me the same way I was looking at her.

“I have to get out of here,” I whispered in the dark room. We were so close I saw her hair move when I spoke.

She swallowed and looked up at me. “Where?”

I smiled and pulled her out of the library. “Anywhere’s better than here.” I paused in the lit hallway, allowing my eyes to adjust. She looked at me curiously. “How about Hogsmeade?” I grinned and before she could say anything I apparated us both to town.

I laughed at the shocked expression on her face when we arrived. Being so close to Hogwarts made me feel more like my age. I should be celebrating after two years of being out instead of moping around my creepy house. I saw Hermione’s eyes light up as she took in the familiar landscape. This was where we belonged, at least for tonight.

We drank butterbeers in our old booth at the Three Broomsticks. Sometime during the night our hands found one another as we walked down the street. She dragged me into Scrivenshaft’s and I pulled her into Zonko’s. We raced each other into Honeyduke’s, our hands still clasped. I bought her sugar quills, and since it was my birthday, she insisted on buying me a slab of chocolate that we shared. By the end of the evening we were both laughing and grinning like idiots.

I apparated us home again because I wanted to feel her close. I did it quickly before she could protest. When we got home she narrowed her eyes at me. I just laughed and collapsed on the nearest couch. She shook her head and sat next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. I smiled as I looked down at her. She was half sprawled on the couch, the rest draped over me. Her hair tickled my chin but I was extremely content to let it stay. Hermione was in my arms and I had had a great evening. Soon enough we were both asleep.

A/N: Okay, it’s not exactly fluff, but it’s close. It’s especially lighthearted after the first four chapters, right? And yes, the “Anywhere’s better than here” was stolen from the PoA movie. It’s one of my favorite lines that Dan delivers. (i’m not going to hell…i’m not going to hell…)

6. Changes

I woke up with Hermione’s hair in my mouth and a tapping at the window. My glasses were cracked on the floor and sometime during the night I had twisted and turned until I lay stretched out on the couch. Hermione was still sleeping on top of me, her head on her hands and my arms wrapped around her. Immediately I blushed and willed myself to not think about her warm body on top of mine. I frantically searched for my wand or hers to open the window before she woke up. The window opened and the owl deposited two letters on Hermione’s back then flew away. Perplexed, I watched it go.

Hermione lifted her head up and blushed as she pulled her hair back. “Sorry about that.” She sat up and stretched, her shirt rising a bit. My mouth went dry at the peek of skin and the sight of her so relaxed. I abruptly sat up and scooped the letters from the floor where they had fallen. I handed Hermione hers and opened mine.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is with grave duty and many thoughts that I humbly ask you to consider the honour of accepting the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this fall.

I feel you are a worthy candidate and I would greatly like to see you join us on September 1st.

However, I understand any reluctance you might have and I ask that you give this due consideration. Please send an owl back with your decision no later than August 15th.

Thank you and sincerely,

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

I sat, stunned. Professor? I shook my head. McGonagall was mad. I was barely out of Hogwarts myself, and to be teaching? I still knew some of the seventh years. I glanced over at Hermione, who wore the same expression I felt.

I raised my eyebrows and she shook her head. She unfolded the letter again and reread it. She folded it back up and set it down, only to pick it back up again.

“I’ve just been offered Librarianship of Hogwarts,” she said evenly, still shocked. “Professor McGonagall says Madam Pince wishes to retire and build a summer home with Filch.” We both flinched at the thought. “She said that no one else knew and loved the library like I did.” She stared at the wall. “Librarianship,” she whispered.

I wordlessly handed her my letter. If she had been a weaker person I knew she would have fallen to the floor in her shock. “Professor?”

“That’s what I said. Me, professor?”

“But you’d be brilliant. Remember the DA?” I did. I also remembered my general reluctance to teach at first, then how much I enjoyed it. I shrugged.

“I’m considering it. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

She scoffed. “Oh Harry, teaching is a wonderful idea! Think of all the things you could teach and learn!” Her eyes shone. I chuckled.

“Oy, what about you? Think of all the books you could touch, and read!” I mocked. We were silent for a moment. “Well?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hermione, just the other day you knew you couldn’t be a Healer anymore. Why not try this? It’s something that you’ve always loved. You’d still be helping people, just in a different way.”

She nudged me. “You too, Harry. Teaching is a lot more helpful than keeping a library organized.”

I frowned. “I’d say they go hand in hand. What if the teacher assigned outside reading, or set an essay on an impossible subject?” I coughed ‘Snape’. She scoffed. “Then what? How will the students find the books they need if they aren’t organized? Without you it could take months for a student to finish an essay.”

She grinned and threw up her hands. “All right. I’ll consider it.”

I smiled and reached for my letter back. I had two weeks to decide if I wanted to teach, and if I did, to convince Hermione to join me at Hogwarts.

~*~

A week passed and neither of us said anything about Hogwarts to the other. We tiptoed around the subject, both of us. She’d make some offhand comment about the DA and we’d look at each other. The subject would drop immediately. Or I’d mention the Black Library was terribly unorganized. I think we got tired of each other, actually. I knew I was actively considering it. I found myself in Diagon Alley one afternoon, checking out Flourish and Blotts’ selection of Defense texts. Hermione put in her resignation, though I’m not sure if that was because she was tired of being a Healer, or if she was considering Hogwarts.

The night before our replies were due we sat on the couch together. We looked everywhere but at each other: the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Finally, I had to break the silence. “Well, if –“

“How about –“

I started laughing and turned to face her. She nodded at me and I spoke first. “I will if you will,” shrugging my shoulders. In truth, I was looking forward to being back at Hogwarts again. It had always seemed like my home, more so than anywhere else. Headmistress McGonagall had given me the perfect solution for my boredom and frustration, if only Hermione agreed. Hogwarts was safe and familiar. Hermione would be protected even when I couldn’t watch over her.

She erupted in giggles. I just sat there, my mouth hanging open in shock. She slowed and then looked at my expression and started all over again. Hermione. Giggling. I think I needed to call in the Prophet for that one.

So I did what any best friend would do. I stood up from the couch with a huff, pretending to be angry. When she calmed down a little, I turned to her with a maniacal grin and proceeded to tickle her. Yes, I, Harry James Potter, owned Hermione. I tickled her until she cried then I let up. She was half beneath me, breathing hard from laughter. Our eyes locked and I could feel her breath tickling my cheek. I couldn’t help but lick my lips and I knew she was looking at mine.

I took a deep breath and sat back. “So, I guess that’s a yes then.” She wrinkled her brow. “Hogwarts?” She smiled and nodded, still on her back and flushed. I had to look away quickly.

She got up to leave the room, only to return with parchment and quills. We wrote letters of acceptance to the Headmistress, our new boss, and sent them with my owl. We grinned at each other, excited, as he flew out the window.

~*~

In the morning, we found replies from the Headmistress. She was glad we had accepted and gave us our instructions. She also sent me the previous years’ lesson plans so I could see what my students had covered. I was given a schedule of who and when my classes would be and when Hogsmeade weekends were. I also was told to pick out a text for each year quickly so she could send out letters to the students.

Hermione and I spent the day together in Diagon Alley. I was able to find the texts I needed after subtle hints from McGonagall and actual ideas from Hermione. We stopped by the twins’ shop before returning home for dinner. They gave me a new catalog and showed us their latest products.

We apparated home and resumed our normal positions on the couch. Hermione was leaning against me engrossed in a new book while I made notes on the old lesson plans. The benefit of having Hermione at Hogwarts was she could always help with lesson plans.

~*~

I didn’t remember falling asleep and I sure as hell didn’t remember falling asleep with Hermione in my arms. Again. The last thing I remembered was closing my eyes after writing a tentative test in for my third years. I had planned to open my eyes to continue with my fourth years. Next thing I knew, I was on the couch on my back. With Hermione in my arms. Again.

Not only that but her shirt had ridden up and I could see her back. In fact, one of my hands was resting on her bare back. I tried not to flinch as I pulled it away. My palm burned from touching her skin. Okay. Hermione’s my best friend. I have seen her in a swimsuit (don’t go there) and I’ve touched her skin before. I honestly hoped that this, my affliction, would go away before I exploded (not a good mental image right now).

I couldn’t help it, but my breathing increased. I was surprised that she hadn’t woken up to see the panic written across my face. I wanted nothing more than to be near her and it was torture. I wanted to move out from under her but I didn’t want her to wake up in my arms. Again. I closed my eyes and counted backwards from ten. I pictured Remus in a dress, Snape in a dress. I was still breathing fast. I told myself to snap out of it and then she moved. And whimpered. She actually whimpered. She, in fact, moved herself around until she was in between me and the couch, her leg hooked around mine and an arm draped over me. I sighed in relief. She had moved herself to a position that I could ease out of without waking her up.

I stood in front of the couch and watched her. Her hair, unruly from sleep, covered the better part of her face. One graceful hand rested elegantly on the couch. She had molded herself to the couch and her hair was everywhere and I still thought her beautiful. I watched as she adjusted herself again; her hand now rested on her abdomen as she slept peacefully on her back.

I left her to cook breakfast. I brought in the tray just as she woke, and the surprised smile on her face was worth the panic of the morning.

A/N: Okay, it’s a short, lame chapter. I needed to get them to this point somehow, so there we have it. I apologize for it’s extreme lameness and lack of going anywhere. But the next chapter will actually have a point. Or at least I hope it will.

7. And so it begins...

A/N: Thanks to all reviewers! You are so awesome! I’m sorry for not updating two chapters in a few hours like I usually do. I’ve had problems with this chapter, though I hope you’ll like what I have so far.

We decided to walk through the barrier for old time’s sake. I watched Hermione walk through, then I followed after I made sure no Muggles were watching. We saw a few familiar faces on the platform, but we were too early to see too many old classmates.

To my surprise, we met up with Neville in our old compartment. I had thought he would already be at Hogwarts. He was engrossed in writing a long letter, the likes of which would rival Hermione’s to Krum. He blushed and put it away when we entered. We greeted each other noisily, then settled down. Hermione sat next to me, across from Neville. It was awkward at first; the last time we had seen or spent any time with Neville had been at Hermione’s wedding. Once the train took off however, we were chatting and catching up like only a summer had separated us. Hermione drifted into my arms and we rested comfortably against the windows. Neville raised an eyebrow but tactfully didn’t say anything.

We arrived at the Hogsmeade Station without mishap and joined the throng heading towards the castle. My first view of it in two years made me smile. I closed my eyes and breathed in the air. Here I could feel and smell the magic. Here I was home.

~*~

We were introduced at the Welcoming Feast by Headmistress McGonagall. The students were happy to hear Filch and Pince were gone, and cheered loudly when Hermione (Madam Granger, she flinched at Weasley) stood. They thought they’d have an easier librarian with her but they were sorely mistaken. I knew Hermione to be frightening when it came to her books and rules and regulations. I received an overwhelming welcome that did nothing to soothe my nerves. I was afraid my students would expect so much from me already based on my past. I did not want to disappoint them.

Hermione sensed my unease when I sat back down and rested her hand on my thigh. The gesture was reassuring at first, but then she left it there through the entire feast. I was feeling increasingly unsteady with it on my thigh but at the same time I didn’t want to draw attention to it for fear she’d remove it. So I sat, supremely uncomfortable, as Hermione rested her hand on my thigh.

We filed from the Hall once the feast was over. I walked Hermione to her quarters. This was the first night she’d be more than just down the hall from me. My quarters were halfway across the castle and I worried she’d have a nightmare in this unfamiliar place. She kissed my cheek and shoved me away from her door to prevent me from worrying any more. With that, I was forced to retreat to my quarters.

~*~

The first week passed in a blur and by Friday afternoon I was exhausted. I knew my first lessons went over well, as most of the students knew who I was. I allowed questions for the first few minutes of class, then we got right down to expectations and goals, followed by a basic introduction to the way I would be teaching the class.

I saw Hermione briefly during meals. She appeared to be settling in nicely and so far the students liked her. We made plans to catch up Saturday afternoon. I also thought I’d ask about her birthday and lesson plans.

~*~

I was running late after a meeting with the Headmistress and met Hermione at the door of the Three Broomsticks. It was mercifully quiet as it was the afternoon and not a Hogsmeade weekend. We sat at a booth in the back and relaxed with our butterbeers. Hermione’s hair was down and she was wearing a pale cardigan. She looked oddly vulnerable yet alluring and I was having a hard time concentrating on simple conversation. I noticed her shooting confused glances at me but I could do nothing. I couldn’t stop watching her hands play with the label on the bottle or tapping on the table. I watched her mouth as she spoke and I knew I made a horrible companion. But I could not snap out of it. My eyes focused somewhere over her head when I tried to look more attentive. Finally her patience ran out and she dragged me outside.

Though the day had started warmly, now it was chilly and Hermione wrapped her cardigan more firmly around her. I watched her walk away from me then turn around abruptly. She crossed to me, standing directly in front of me, looking as if she were going to speak. Before she could I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She shivered and looked at me crossly, then started walking back to the castle again.

“Harry,” I heard her call as she walked away from me.

I shook my head briskly and jogged to catch up to her. “Yes?” She frowned at me.

“What is wrong with you today? You’ve been acting distinctly odd.”

I shrugged and continued walking with her. I knew if I looked at her I’d fall apart. Something about being back at Hogwarts had affected me, especially tonight. I watched her walk off angrily when I didn’t answer. I stood there watching her until she almost reached the gates and then I took off running after her.

“Hermione, wait!” She stopped and glared at me. “Hermione, please.” She let me catch my breath before she crossed her arms and started tapping her foot. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m still preoccupied with this past week. Teaching,” I ran my hand through my hair. “Teaching is unlike anything I’ve ever done before, even with the DA. It’s so challenging and tiring, but you were right. It is rewarding.” I took a deep breath and looked at her. “I’m glad we both decided to come here. Are you happy here?”

Her expression softened. “Yes, I am happy. I’ve always been happier at Hogwarts than anywhere else.” She sighed. “Harry, I’m every bit as worn out as you. Let’s head back.”

Reluctantly I nodded. I didn’t want to return yet, but I deserved it after being so flaky. She smiled at me then took my hand. We walked back to the castle in silence, all my attention focused on the nerve endings in my left hand.

~*~

I slept in Sunday morning and visited Hermione in the library that afternoon. She was up to her ears in misplaced books and I offered my help. It felt more like Grimmauld Place as we worked together in silence. I kept catching her looking over at me with an abnormal expression on her face that was quickly replaced when she caught my eye. I watched her as well. Some of the shelves were quite dusty and she had several smudges on her forehead and cheeks from were she had brushed her hair back.

When we finished we both collapsed on the floor, our backs against the wall, feet sprawled out before us. We congratulated ourselves on a job well done and I regained my feet first. I helped her to her feet and she brushed herself off.

“Here. Let me; you’ve forgotten a few spots.” Tentatively I brushed her shoulders despite there being no dust. I took a step closer to her and wiped her forehead. She tried swatting my hand away but I persisted. I took her chin with one hand and used the other to tilt her head so I could wipe the dust from her cheeks. I saw her eyes dart back and forth as my fingers came closer to her mouth.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

I found myself looking down into her brown eyes. I didn’t realize we had gotten so close. I blinked and automatically licked my lips. She didn’t pull back and with my heart in my throat I slowly leaned forward. I tried to tell myself it was wrong and I tried to pull myself backward. Nothing I told myself was working and I saw Hermione close her eyes as I leaned in closer. My eyes started to close.

Then they flew open. I realized where I was and what I was trying to do. I took a deep breath and slowly pulled back from her. Her eyes opened and I couldn’t read whether or not she was hurt or if she was every bit as confused as I was. I took another breath and stepped fully back. She just looked at me again with a completely blank expression. I lowered my head a little and left the library quickly.

A/N: Okay, I’m super sleepy, but I wanted to get this out for you guys! I know it’s shorter than the last chapter, and that was the shortest so far. I wanted you to have your chapter! Next one shall be better. Let me know if there are any errors and I’ll edit and repost tomorrow. Hopefully there aren’t. Thanks for reading.

8. Worth the Wait

Sleep would not come to me Sunday night. I tossed and turned and hit my pillow; nothing helped. I kept picturing the look on Hermione’s face as I pulled away. Her eyes were closed, at first, and her lips were slightly parted, as if she were surprised. Then she closed herself off.

I sighed as I leaned forcibly into my pillow. I hoped I hadn’t done anything to her, to ruin our friendship. I was trying so hard not to force my feelings upon her. By now I was sure she at least had an inkling of how I felt. She had to have had; Hermione is an intelligent woman. I was afraid of ruining everything.

After seeing her face a few more times and punching the pillow a lot more, I finally drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

~*~

Monday morning at breakfast she sat next to me and acted as if nothing unusual had happened. I was relieved, but still wary. She wasn’t short or curt with me, nor was she skittish or angry. She was just Hermione. She might have been a little quieter, but that was more normal with Hermione now. I took my attitude from hers and didn’t mention it.

I was dying to know what she thought though. Was she as confused as me? Did she stay awake last night, worrying and fretting over our relationship? Or did she not even realize I had been about to kiss her? I shuddered inwardly and prayed that wasn’t the case. Hermione wasn’t oblivious, so I knew she realized something.

I watched her eat out of the corner of my eye. She ate slowly, pausing to sip her juice or speak with Professor Flitwick on her right. I felt her glance at me a few times but we never actually made eye contact.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal then. I thought I had everything under control and neither of us were awkward. Until I knocked my juice over, right into her lap. Predictably she shrieked, but at once I started mopping her up with my napkin. She watched me with narrowed eyes, then put her hand on top of mine. It was only then that I realized where my hand had been. I looked at her and blushed my apology as I gently removed my hand and napkin from her chest. She shrugged it off and we continued eating. I half noticed her hand was shaking as she reached for her juice but then breakfast was over. She stood first to leave and I watched her walk out.

~*~

I had a break right after breakfast so I tried returning to my room to work on the days lessons. I couldn’t concentrate and decided I wouldn’t be able to for the rest of the day, so I set essays for my students to turn in by the end of class. That was so they would stay busy while I could sit at my desk thinking of what else I could do wrong to Hermione.

I put my head on the desk and let out a frustrated moan. First I had almost kissed Hermione, then I had molested her at breakfast in front of the entire school. I was blushing just thinking about it. I thought Hermione might hate me now, as confusing as I was. I decided to see if that were even remotely true before I could wallow in my own misery and embarrassment. I went to the library to see if she would even speak with me.

~*~

I had to wait, impatiently, while she helped a few third years find information for their Potions class. I stood by the window at first, then paced between a few shelves. I was about to lose my nerve when she appeared around the stacks.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. She looked at me and I heard a few giggles. I guess I had been rather loud, and I was in Hermione’s library. She directed me to a table and pointed me to sit down. I did and waited for her to join me.

She sighed and put both hands on the table in front of her. She looked at me. I tried to say something but I couldn’t, not with her looking at me like that. Finally she spoke.

“Harry, about yesterday,” she began.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I’m sorry about last night and I’m sorry about this morning. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

She sighed again. “Harry, that’s not—“

We were interrupted again by a first year with a question. Then another student. I checked my watch and noticed it was almost time for my class. I glanced over at Hermione and waved to her. She shot me a look that clearly said we’d talk later.

~*~

Later never came. We tried speaking at meals but there wasn’t enough privacy. I went to the library during any breaks but she was always too busy. My classes started to pick up. I was teaching curses and coutercurses to my older students and we discussed defensive theory amongst my younger ones. I noticed the Quidditch captains conferring among their former and hopeful teammates. I knew the year had finally truly started.

I knew Hermione hadn’t forgotten our pending discussion, nor had I. We put it behind us though, for the time being, because the Saturday before her birthday, the staff retreated to the Three Broomsticks for celebration. She blushed and happily nodded at all of the attention. She thanked McGonagall for the invitation to be a part of the staff and thanked everyone for their birthday wishes and greetings. I said nothing specific, wishing to surprise her on the actual day. I did, however, walk her safely to her room. I gave her a birthday hug and she kissed my cheek goodnight before I walked to my room.

I woke early Sunday morning and put a box outside her door, donned my invisibility cloak and waited. The box did its job; it made a lot of noise, mewing pitifully, until she opened the door. She took the top off the box right away and pulled out a tiny gray fur ball with a big pink ribbon around its neck. She smiled softly at the kitten and held it close to comfort id. She banished the box and looked down the hall for evidence.

“Accio cloak,” I heard her mutter. I let if slip from my hands as I grinned at her.

“Happy Birthday Hermione.”

She smiled shyly as I walked closer. “Do you like her? She hasn’t a name yet, I thought you’d like to. She’s not half-kneazle like Crookshanks was, but she wouldn’t let me leave the store without her.”

Hermione smiled again and nodded. “Her name is Annabeth.” I raised my eyebrows. “We’ll call her Annie for short.”

I gently stoked Annie behind her ears. She purred loudly. “Nice to meet you Annie.”

“Oh Harry!” Hermione pulled me into a big hug, nearly knocking me flat. Annie let out a piteous mew at being squished between us but Hermione didn’t let go. I could feel her shaking and I pulled back slightly. Annie, sensing the opportunity, jumped from Hermione’s arms and took to exploring the corridor. I gently wiped tears from Hermione’s eyes.

“Oh Harry, you’ve been so good to me lately. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She pulled me close again.

I wasn’t prepared and was in the process of shaking my head when our noses bumped, then our lips briefly met. I jumped, shocked, at the feel of her lips finally on mine. She jumped back first, a blush staining her cheeks. Before she could say anything or pull away any further our lips met again; this time was no accident.

My arms wrapped around her waist and I pulled her flush against me. She came without hesitation, putting her arms around my neck. I could feel Annie purring against my legs as I opened my mouth against her master’s. Hermione let out a moan as my tongue entered her mouth. She allowed me to tilt her head back as I deepened the kiss. She fisted one hand in my hair and pulled me closer. Our noses bumped again. I was kissing Hermione and she wasn’t pulling back or running away. She wasn’t crying. She was kissing me back. I was so happy and overwhelmed that I ended our kiss. We rested our foreheads together and we were both breathing heavily. She looked at me and before I could apologize or even blink she kissed me again.

The temperature in the hallway rose a few degrees as we kissed again. I could hear Annie meowing like she was far off but I could only register Hermione. Her soft lips were against mine and she was the only thing I could think about. I had waited for this for ages. She pulled me against her until I had backed her against the wall. Her hands had moved from my neck to my back and then to my arse.

I pulled back, unsure, when she bit my lip. “Hermione.” She paused and looked at me. “Hermione, are you sure we should be doing this?”

She stopped abruptly and let her hands fall to her sides. She sighed and stepped away from me, looking anywhere but at me. “I,” she faltered. “I guess you’re right Harry. Thank you for Annie.” She scooped the kitten up and retreated to her room. I stood shocked as she started to close her door.

I put my foot in the way before she could. “Wait. Hermione, I didn’t mean,” she opened the door fully. “I didn’t mean that I didn’t mean to kiss you.” I ran my hand through my hair and decided to come clean. “I, um, I liked kissing you, and I meant to.” I knew I was blushing. “Hermione, I’ve liked you, I like you, for a very long time.” I paused again and sighed. “It killed me to see you with Ron.”

The door flew open and away as Hermione threw her arms around me again. She was smiling and tears were in her eyes. “Harry,” she said quietly, blushing. “I’ve liked you for a long time too.” She took my hand and led me to her couch to sit. “Ever since I was in the hospital, you’ve been by my side, helping me, supporting me. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do if you ever decided to leave me. We’ve been tiptoeing around this for too long.” I glanced over at her, shocked. “I know you’ve been worried about me and trying not to rush things, but frankly I’ve been hoping you’d kiss me since before your birthday.”

A/N: Sorry this took slightly longer to post than I had planned. I hope it was worth the wait!!!

9. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey readers!

I first have to apologize for this not being a chapter. I originally planned this fic to only be three or four chapters and now I’ve already written 8 and it’s not done yet!

Unfortunately, I have some bad news. For you at least.

I graduate from college tomorrow, then I’m spending the week in San Antonio for celebration (I live in Dallas). So, because I’ll be with family and out of town, I will not be finishing Bittersweet by tonight as I had thought I would be. I’ll be back next Friday, May 12 and I hope to have a chapter up by the 13th. I’ll be writing while I’m out of town, but I won’t be able to post anything.

I’m so sorry and I hope you aren’t too disappointed.

I also wanted to thank all my reviews. You guys have been so supportive of me and my story that it makes it easier to write. I look forward to turning on my computer and reading all the reviews. I can’t believe I’m over 100, let alone having 127 (at the time I’ve written this).

Again, I’m sorry for not posting a chapter, but I hope you understand and I’ll see you in a week!!

~bubblegumlocks

10. Before

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken so long. Thanks for all the reviews and the well-wishes. Graduation was good and my trip was awesome. I didn’t have much time to work on this though. Now that I’m back, though, I’m having a hard time picking up where I left off. I’ve written bits and pieces throughout the week, but I’m still not satisfied with it as a chapter. However, I feel I’ve gone too long without a word, so, without further adieu, here is the next “chapter”.

That night I had an odd dream. I was back at the place where Voldemort died, but it was, well, different. I couldn’t help noticing a few subtle differences, like a tree was gone, or off to the side more. It was more green than I remembered, and was slightly calmer. I still saw the spells marks, but they too were altered.

Harry looked around, panicked. The corpse of Voldemort was beginning to smoke. Harry sheltered his face with his hands as it burst into flames, sending showers into the sky. When the smoke cleared he could see and hear his surroundings again. He looked around frantically, searching for Ron and Hermione. Smoke was settling, leaving the landscape shadowed. He could hear shouts and what sounded like laughter off in the distance as the Order realized they had won.

Harry ran away, away from the spot where Voldemort had stood and tried to take his life, away to the sounds of humanity. He spotted Hermione first, her feet curled up beneath her, her head down. He gasped at the sight of all the blood. He rushed to her, and took her hand, afraid of the worst. He sighed in relief when she looked up at him and smiled weakly. She gestured to him, reassuring him it wasn’t hers. He knelt down to her, and took her in his arms, rocking back and forth, both crying as they thanked the gods for their survival. They held each other for a while longer, until Harry heard something behind them.

They both drew their wands and leapt to their feet. Hermione lowered hers first, and launched herself at the figure entering the clearing. Harry grinned and walked over to his best friend. They all embraced, happy in this one moment that they all had survived. Harry pulled back and clapped Ron on the shoulder. Ron was pale and smiling weakly at Hermione’s steadfast embrace.

As they walked away from the clearing, Ron fell further and further behind, until he collapsed. They rushed back to him and Hermione took him in her arms. Harry sat beside them, and watched as Hermione began to cry. Harry helped him sit up further and Ron was wheezing, trying to catch his breath. Then Ron began coughing and Hermione clutched him tighter. He took her hand and squeezed lightly with the little strength he had. Harry shook his head as Ron reached for him as well.

“Harry,” he rasped. “Take care of her for me. You always were better at it than me anyways.”

Hermione’s tears were silent and streaming while Harry just shook his head. They watched Ron take one last hollow breath and then collapse.

I woke up with tears in my eyes. In my dream Ron had died a hero, before he turned, before he hated. Before he was sentenced and killed in a freak accident, he had died honourably in our arms. I couldn’t help thinking that this was how he should have died. A hero, not overshadowed by me or Hermione, but on his own, a man still with integrity.

I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. It was still too early to get out of bed but now I was too awake to fall back asleep.

My dream.

Ron had asked me to look after her, almost as if he knew she needed looking after in the real world. He was so earnest and honest and I felt almost warmed by the glimpse of this Ron, the way he had been before his actual death.

I sighed and leaned back. It was almost like a permission of sorts; I promised Ron in my dream that I would look after her.

But then I remembered that not only was I looking after her, I had kissed her.

I had kissed Hermione. It was almost as shocking as seeing Ron again in my dream. I ran my hand through my hair, frustrated. Not only had I kissed her, but she had kissed me back. And I told her that I like her, have liked her for ages.

I sighed again and turned over on my side, glaring at the empty side of my bed. Thoughts of Hermione, what she was doing and what she might be thinking filled my head until I fell back asleep.

~*~

I woke up again, this time to a soft and warm weight by my side. Before I opened my eyes, I frowned, confused. Then I felt the weight purr and I smiled.

Annie was sleeping contentedly by me and I knew Hermione wouldn’t be far. I sat up in bed and looked around my room. Hermione was at my desk, her back to me, writing something on a piece of parchment.

I shifted slightly and climbed out of bed as quietly as I could. I crept up behind Hermione, but she turned around before I could surprise her.

Her face broke out into a huge grin. “Morning Harry.” To my surprise she stretched and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

“M-morning Hermione.” I stared at her, bringing one hand up to feel my lips. I watched her bustle around my room. “What are you doing?” I asked before I could think.

She turned around and frowned at me, but smiled again when she saw Annie curled in a ball. My breath caught at her smile and I suddenly remembered I was wearing nothing but boxers.

“Erm, Hermione?” I saw her grin before she turned to face me with a straight face. She looked at me and blushed.

“Oh. Sorry.” She sort of half raised her hand. “I’ll, erm, I’ll just go. C’mon Annie.” The kitten’s ears perked, then she jumped off my bed and followed Hermione out.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I stared at the door for a minute, then at my bed. I walked over to it and sat down.

~*~

I cornered Hermione in the library that evening, shortly before curfew. She was busy sending books back to their respective places and didn’t notice me enter. The library was quiet otherwise. I caught a glimpse of a Ravenclaw by himself at the corner table, but he was fast asleep.

I watched Hermione for a while. Her hair had been tied in a bun, but most of it had come out as she worked. It was curling slightly at the ends and created a messy halo around her. It framed her face but she kept making angry swipes at it when it brushed against her cheek. She had a few tracks across her face from this and where the dust had settled. She had a determined look on her face as her wand danced merrily in her hand.

I watched her finish with a flourish and turn around.

She jumped. “Oh! You scared me. I didn’t realize you were standing there Harry.”

I smiled sheepishly. “We need to talk.”

I saw a frown pass over her face but she masked it quickly with a bright smile. “Just let me finish up and we’ll talk on the way to my room.” She turned around. “Oh, and if you’ll go wake Bradley I’d appreciate it,” she called over her shoulder.

I sent the Ravenclaw on his way and waited patiently for Hermione. She flicked off the lights and locked the doors behind her with a spell. She took my arm and we started walking, chattering mindlessly on the way to her room.

A/N: Oh, and I really do appreciate all the reviews I’ve received. I’ve made an “executive decision” not to reply to them because I was gone, but I’ll try to reply to any new ones. Thanks again!

11. And After

That night I discovered that talking was the furthest thing from Hermione’s mind.

We were walking slowly to her room and she threaded her arm through mine. I started, but kept on walking, waiting for her to mention it. We stopped in front of her door and she still hadn’t.

I opened it for her, watched her walk through, and I turned to shut it. When I turned to face her I found myself being pushed against the door and attacked. Hermione’s hair was flying around her and it surrounded us as she pinned me against the door. She took my surprise right from my lips as she claimed them. She enveloped my face with her delicate hands and kissed the hell out of me.

Not only had she thoroughly shocked me, but she had knocked the breath out of me as well. Before I could even begin to return the favor she pulled back and crossed to a chair, sitting primly upon it. She crossed her legs and looked at me as if nothing had happened.

I stood there, still against the door, my mouth still open in shock. I must have stayed there for a while because it took her giggling to force me to snap out of it.

I sat across from her at the table and she smiled. A smug little smile with a glint in her eyes that both scared and aroused me. To the point of being uncomfortable. She took my hand and sat on the edge of her chair, waiting to listen.

“Hermione, I—“ I shook my head and gestured to her.

She smiled and I faltered. “It’s okay, Harry. I know—“

I stopped listening there. She was smiling at me and her fingers were caressing my palm and I don’t remember when I’ve been harder. I wanted to talk and then suddenly I want nothing more than to quiet her most effectively.

“—and then—“

I still couldn’t pay attention. I found myself watching her lips move as she talked. She was still stoking my palm and then, there! Her tongue came out and licked her lips. I inwardly groaned at myself. I took a deep breath and told myself to focus.

“—just sometimes, it’s so hard to. Don’t you think so?” She looked at me, a question written on her face. She had finally pulled her hand away and was just looking at me, waiting for a response.

I did the only think I could do. I launched myself across the table and kissed her. I could feel her smile against me. I kissed her thoroughly, until we were both panting and it wasn’t until she reached for my neck did I realize I had been straddling a table. Still uncomfortable, I groaned and reluctantly pulled away.

Only to find myself unable to; Hermione had a firm grip on my hair, making it painful to withdraw. She pulled me even closer, which I had thought impossible, and stole my breath from me again. I winced as I came further into contact with the table.

Until I was suddenly turned upside down and forced to rest on the table. I saw the ceiling for a brief second until Hermione’s face replaced it. She smiled at me, a heart stoppingly, gut wrenchingly, spine tingling, bloody arousing smile. She was atop me, straddling me, both of us half on the table. She framed my face with her hands, delicately licked her lips and practically attacked me.

I was still too stunned to do much more than tentatively kiss back, despite our earlier kisses. She had surprised me, taken my breath and my heart and was currently playing Quidditch with both.

I gained back my Gryffindor courage and actually started to move. To kiss back. My hands found her back, her ticklish sides, her arse, her hair; I couldn’t get enough of her beneath my fingertips. She was equally adventurous and had even taken to trail one hand to the nether regions. At which point I jumped and she tugged playfully at my bottom lip.

We were, at this point, breathing very heavily and very into each other. So much so that we didn’t hear an insistent knock on the door, nor the subsequent squeak as it opened.

We did, however, hear the gasp and the tumble of books. I looked over at the door and Hermione gently removed her hand from my pants as we slowly, excruciatingly, removed ourselves from each other and the table.

I turned around quickly, both to gain my composure and my composure. I hadn’t been wearing my traditional loose-fitting robes after class, and well, my pants left nothing to the imagination. I heard Hermione greet the poor unsuspecting 2nd year who was out after curfew but, due to fear of Hermione’s wrath in the morning, who felt compelled to return her books. I sighed loudly, extremely frustrated. I calmed slightly and nodded goodbye to a busy Hermione.

When I closed her door behind me, I leaned on it and sighed again, running my hand through my hair. I was no closer to figuring this out than I had been earlier. I vowed to myself that I would confront Hermione, albeit at a safe distance. Obviously, neither of us could be trusted.

~*~

I woke up the next morning distinctly disgruntled. No only had Hermione and I not had the talk, but we were also interrupted.

I must admit, though, I was a little scared about the upcoming Talk. I had left Hermione last night without a word, without paying attention to anything she had been saying and I was still completely unprepared.

I knew two things though: I loved Hermione, and I loved snogging Hermione. I just didn’t know how to tell her properly, without rushing or ruining or moving straight into love. I knew she liked me and appeared to like snogging me, but after that?

I was doomed and confused.

~*~

Breakfast I piddled, classes I dawdled, and lunch I skipped altogether. My newfound cowardice was a slight inconvenience to my appetite, but did wonders for my head.

I finally accosted her during my break. The library was unusually full and she was distracted. I smiled as I watched her and smiled that she was distracted. That meant I could bumble and falter what I wanted to say and she’s only half-heartedly listen and possibly acknowledge my feelings without too much thought or disagreement. I was so distraught at finally deciding to at least show her another inkling as to how I felt that I was shaking.

And extremely grateful that I had not bothered to eat much that day.

She paused and caught my eye, looking up from a group of Slytherins. She smiled and nodded in the direction of her office. I hesitated upon entering the enclosed and private space, but I left the door open, sat down behind her desk and waited.

She entered after I had taken a few deep breaths. She raised her eyebrows at my position, then turned and shut the door behind her.

I gulped noticeably and opened my mouth to speak before she could do anything.

“Hermione, please. I have something I need to say, to get off my chest, and it’s hard enough to say without being interrupted.” She smiled at me encouragingly, taking a seat, and I took a deep breath. I looked at her, then around the room, finally settling on a paperweight on her desk. I reached for it and played with it idly as I tried to pour out my heart.

“Hermione, I,” I took another breath. “I…” I trailed off and shook my head. I just couldn’t do it. I felt her reach over and take my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. I looked at her again. “I was lost when you were with Ron. I was lost and confused about what I was seeing and feeling. It took me a long time to figure out it was jealousy. I was jealous of Ron, and how I thought you loved him. It was so hard for me to give you away and then stand up with him. I wanted to say, so many times, that it was wrong, this was wrong, Ron was wrong for you, but I didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness.” I reached over and cupped her face in my hands. “All I wanted was for you to be happy. I thought you were, so I forced myself to be.” I dropped my hands and leaned forward on my elbows, dropping my head into my hands. “When I found out what he had done to you, I was shattered but also very hopeful and happy. You had not been happy after all, at least of your own whim, and that troubled me. Yet at the same time I was so happy because I could be free to watch you again, to love you. These past few months have been almost surreal. It’s like I have a second chance with you and I’m afraid to arse it all up. Hermione, I love you, I have loved you, longer than I even know and I’m just so worried about what this is going to do to our friendship, to you. I’ve tried so hard to wait for you, to allow you to heal, but when we kiss I know I can’t wait any longer.”

I looked at her to find tears in her eyes and a slight smile upon her face. She stood up and slowly walked around the desk to where I was and kneeled before me. She hugged me hard and I felt like crying. She looked at me from the embrace and smiled again, that glorious smile.

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed.

She stretched and tenderly kissed me. Her lips were salty from her tears and she pulled back to look at me. She reached up and brushed a lock of my hair off my forehead and kissed me again.

“Hermione, I can’t just—“

She smiled and shook her head before silencing me with a kiss. “Harry, I know I’ve loved you for ages, and hearing that from you breaks my heart. I’m so sorry this has taken so long, but I suspect that this is one of the reasons Ron reacted the way he did. He never could compete with you, especially in my heart.”

I stared at her, kneeling on the floor with her hair and robes in disarray. I gently pulled her up until I had her in my lap. She rested her cheek on mine and we sat there for a while.

We had always had a way of silently communicating with each other, and this time was no different. We were both stunned, shaken and happily surprised at the revelations but we still felt a shadow over it. Ron was still marring our perfect happiness and we both suspected he always would be. I didn’t want to go too fast and ruin everything up to that point. I knew she couldn’t be ready to trust quite yet, even if it was me. So we sat, in companionable silence. She got up to close the library but returned to me, to our silence, as we watched the shadows lengthen and the room grow dark.

~*~

I woke to silence, a pain in my neck, and heavy arms. I opened my eyes to find Hermione’s office, with its owner still in my lap. I gently shook her to wake her.

She greeted me unexpectedly. With a kiss. It was sweet, languid, gentle, and unhurried. Our tongues tangled gently and our breaths mingled slightly as we enjoyed each other’s taste. It slowly picked up, escalating to the point where she was straddling me (again) while I was in the chair.

“Hermione,” gasp “We have to“ gasp ”stop.” She ignored me though and tried to unbutton my shirt. I grabbed her hand and stood up, kissing her soundly. “Not yet.”

She gave me one last lingering kiss, eyed me up and down, then ran out of the room, laughter ringing out behind her.

I smiled, dazed, and then raced after her.

A/N: Okay, it’s not as long as the first chapter, but it’s definitely longer than the last five or six chapters. Hopefully this bit of fluff will distract you so much that you won’t realize that this fic is almost done. As in, I only plan to write one more chapter and then an epilogue and then NO MORE! This was originally only supposed to be three chapters with a short epilogue, as I’ve told some of my reviewers. But it ran and ran out of control, and all the reviews really helped that. But I’ve caught on now, and I’m sticking to the plan (code). Anyhoo, I hope you’ve enjoyed this! Thanks so much for reading, and a special thanks to all my loyal reviewers! Oh, and any errors are mine, so please point them out for me. I probably won’t upload an edited edition, but I’ll have the fixed version on my livejournal (bubblegumlocks, for posterity).

12. The End

A/N: I want to apologize first off for two things: the extreme lateness of this, and the extreme shortness of this. I’ll explain more after it.

I took the shortcuts I knew to try to surprise Hermione in her room. I opened her door quietly and slipped inside to wait. Annie watched me appraisingly, then came over and placed herself in my lap. I absently stroked her ears while she purred and I waited.

I waited with an increasingly long face. I just knew she’d come here. But when she had had ample time to come to her room and return to the library, I removed Annie from my lap and walked slowly out of her room.

I wandered over to my room to find it unoccupied. My classroom, the library and her office again, the Great Hall, and even the grounds were empty of Hermione. I was even more confused than I had been before my confession, and quite a bit frustrated. I stood outside, staring at the castle when an idea struck.

I walked out onto the Astronomy Tower to find her lying on her back looking at the stars. I watched her for a minute. Her hair was spread around her and her hands were crossed over her stomach. She had a slight smile on her face, like she was thinking of something close to her heart. The moonlight was shining down on her and I could see the stars twinkling in her half-opened eyes. I was caught and I didn’t care about escaping.

She saw me out of the corner of her eye and silently gestured me over. I sat next to her and leaned back to watch the stars with her. I was suddenly reminded of third year, listening to her explain star charts and planet paths. I knew she was thinking the same thing when she turned towards me and began to map them out for me again, her arms spread in an arc.

I close my eyes

And I smile

Knowing that everything is alright

To the core

So close that door

Is this happening?

My breath is on your hair

I’m unaware

That you opened the blinds

And let the city in

God, you held my hand

And we stand

Just taking in everything

And I knew it from the start

So my arms are open wide

Your head is on my stomach

And we’re, we’re trying so hard not to fall asleep

Here we are

On this 18th floor balcony

We’re both flying away

We talked, about our day, about my classes, about the future of Hogwarts. We remembered our classes, our friends. As one we talked about Ron, remembering him as he was, here, in school. We no longer skirted the issue, him, Ron. We both cried, light tears, at the loss of one of our closest friends. I told Hermione about my dream and how disturbed I had been after it. I was surprised when she nodded and told me she had dreamt the same thing.

So we talk

About moms and dads

About family’s pasts

Just getting to know where we came from

Our hearts were on display

For all to see

I can’t believe this is happening

To me

And I raise my hand as if to show you that I was yours

That I was so yours for the taking

I’m so yours for the taking, and

That’s when I felt the wind pick up

I grabbed the rail while choking up

These words to say

And then you kissed me, yeah

I knew it from the start

My arms are open wide

Your head is on my stomach

And we’re, we’re trying so hard not to fall asleep

Here we are

On this 18th floor balcony

We’re both flying away

We watched the sun rise, our hands clasped. We stretched and returned to the castle with plans to be at lunch, to actually eat lunch together.

I kissed her, one long last lingering kiss before the day started. We parted reluctantly, Annie purring around our legs like she had during our first kiss.

And I’ll try to sleep

To keep you in my dreams

‘Til I can bring you

Home with me

I’ll try to sleep

And when I do

I’ll keep you in my dreams

And I knew it from the start

So my arms are open wide

And your head is on my stomach

And we’re, we’re trying so hard not to fall asleep

So here we are

On this 18th floor balcony

We’re both flying away, yeah

I knew it from the start

So my arms are open wide

And your head is on my stomach

No, we’re not going to sleep, sleep

Here we are

On this 18th floor balcony

We’re both flying away

The End.

~*~

A/N: Okay, the song is “18th Floor Balcony” off the new Blue October album, “Foiled”. You really should listen to this song, it’s very nice. And the band rocks too.

Enough of that. I am so sorry this has taken way long to update this last chapter. I ended up working and finally going to get a car. I spent Thursday and Friday in Missouri with my dad and drove all the way back to Texas all day Saturday. He doesn’t have the internet (*gasp* I know!), so I had no way to update even if I had finished writing this. So, my lame last chapter was written today at work.

I have good news though! I have the epilogue written already, so I’m going to post it about an hour after this one is posted, if I can stay awake that long. It will definitely be posted tonight though!

One more thing: If you are interested, I might be able to be talked into writing a smutty alternate ending to this fic, to replace this chapter. I didn’t want to put smut in this story because I didn’t think it was appropriate, but if you guys want sex, I’ll give it to you! Just let me know in a review, okay? (*cackles*)

Thanks so much for sticking with me and watch for the epilogue!!!

13. Epilogue

A/N: NOTE: This is the epilogue. I’ve loaded two chapters within an hour, so if you haven’t read the final chapter, I’d like you to. Pretty please? Now, on to the epilogue!

Two years, four months, twelve days, four hours and thirteen minutes after Voldemort was defeated, I watched as Harry proposed.

We were in my favorite restaurant in Hogsmeade, celebrating the end of the school year when Harry left for the lavatory. I waited patiently and when he returned, he bent down on one knee before me, hands shaking and asked me to be his wife.

I did not shriek or jump. I simply smiled. I knew I was crying as I reached forward and hugged him. We were both blushing when the restaurant broke out into light applause as we kissed.

~*~

Looking back, I can’t help but smile over the way Harry treated me. I was like a glass slipper; he was afraid to do anything for fear he’d harm me in some way. I smiled to myself at the memory of our first kiss. He just didn’t understand, so I had to speed things along.

I sighed happily as I casually glanced at my hand, one of a thousand casual glances throughout the day. I can’t help but smile when I remember the way he was blushing when he finally proposed. He still thought he had to take everything slow around me, but as frustrating as that was, it was more than I could have hoped for than from any other man.

I sat up in bed and just watched him. Watching Harry sleep was becoming my new favourite activity. He was so casual and unguarded and sweet when he slept and I knew I wouldn’t be able to love another man.

I rested my head back on the pillow and sighed, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts of love and another man made me think of Ron. I don’t remember much at all, honestly. Just that, after Voldemort was gone, we couldn’t do anything but fight. It was like our barrier, our protection against harming each other was gone, now that we didn’t have anything to hide behind. And then about a year later I remember waking up to Harry’s green eyes and a few flashes of the past. To find myself married to Ron and in St. Mungo’s because of him.

I sighed and automatically reached over to Harry for reassurance. He didn’t wake, but pulled me closer. I respected Harry tremendously for how close and good he was to me, and for not rushing me into things. I was so frustrated though; I couldn’t remember my relationship with Ron, so my feelings were as they had been before the Final Battle.

I loved Harry. Simply, exhaustively. I couldn’t help it. When I found him by my bedside, I couldn’t help falling for him again, despite Ron. I waited, hoping for some sign from Harry, when I should have realized all along how much I meant to him.

I sighed again and rolled into Harry’s embrace. His arms tightened around me and I smiled.

I closed my yes and resolved to sleep because I knew I’d need the rest. Our wedding was in little over a week and we both needed rest from all the rush. I smiled again and nestled further into Harry’s embrace.

When I was almost asleep I felt him lightly kiss my forehead and whisper “I love you”.

~*~

A/N: There you have it. Now we know a little of what Hermione was feeling.

I hope you enjoyed this, and a huge thank you to all my reviewers! I really appreciate your support and I’m just in awe at how many I’ve received!

Thanks again!

~bubblegumlocks