Well, here it is! I sincerely hope it was worth the wait. :D Enjoy!
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Harry slumped against the wall and slid down to the cold stone floor of the Quidditch locker rooms, sighing heavily. He had realized early on in his "magical life" that there was no way to know the exact bounds of what magic could do, but this was more than enough to throw him for a loop. Three years of his life had been given back, which should have been a good thing-except he remembered those three years that now didn't exist. He had woken up the morning before in the year 2000 with Hermione kissing him, and this morning had dawned on the year 1997 with Hermione angry with him. Well, maybe not angry, but upset. She certainly had every reason to be.
He'd never been the quickest thinker in the world, but the shock of having been thrown back in time had left him reeling. That, and the fact that his emotions were raw and uncontrollable had caused him to be entirely too abrupt with her. She didn't know what had happened, of course. To her, they had arrived in the Room of Requirements and Harry had rushed to get her into bed as quickly as possible. And only moments later, he had pulled away from her, looking around wildly and asking questions that must have seemed completely insane. She probably thought that he'd completely lost his mind, and it would have been a reasonable assumption. He felt like he'd lost his mind.
A million thoughts were running wild through his head, demanding his immediate attention, and he fought desperately to control them, to make sense of them. And they were all competing with his emotions for priority. And he wasn't certain that he cared to either think or feel at the moment.
The fact that he hadn't recast the spell was both a relief and a burden to him. True, he hadn't lost Ron, or his magic, or his ability to love Hermione, all of which were wonderful beyond belief. But he had changed things. He had gone back to a time when Voldemort was still a threat and now Hermione had none of his original protection for the second go-round. Ron didn't even have the protection that Harry had supposedly given him the first time. Granted, he'd been at the first battle and had made it through, but Harry had still had an effect on Ron's fight. Ron had, because of his anger with Harry, been fighting somewhere else, not at Harry's side. This time around, it was possible Ron wouldn't be in the same place he'd been the first time, and thus, Harry might be sentencing him to death by not performing the spell again.
Of course, the same might be true for Hermione. Even thinking about it made his heart ache beyond any pain he'd felt in a long time.
Time was a funny thing. He could still feel the aches caused by the Cruciatus that Lucius Malfoy had sent through him only the day before, despite the fact that it hadn't, in this timeline, ever happened. It had, of course, and he had been there, but-it hadn't. He remembered it perfectly, but Hermione didn't. Hermione only knew what had happened in the yesterday of here and now, whereas Harry couldn't remember that yesterday as anything more than a distant memory. And if he thought that was confusing, then he could only imagine having the two timelines converge into two distinctly sets of memories over the next few years.
His head ached, adding to the pain in his chest and limbs and he wanted to scream from the complete and utter impossibility of it all.
Maybe he should explain this to Hermione. Maybe she could make more sense of it than he could. She was much brighter than him, and she was able to see possibilities that he couldn't. Then again, what would she think of him, if she even believed him? Would she hate him for having even considered doing such a spell on her? Or would she be understanding, and even touched by his good intentions?
He had both the benefit and the fault of having his twenty year-old mind in his seventeen year-old body. He had the small bit of wisdom he gained over the three years that no longer counted, but he also had to remember that Hermione didn't have those three years in her mind. She lacked the great amount of life experience that those years had given her. And while she was still as clever as she had ever been, this Hermione hadn't yet seen the fall of Voldemort. She hadn't seen the tragedies and trials that his Hermione had.
Harry's heart gave another painful throb and he let his eyes fall shut, taking a deep breath. There was so much he needed to work out, and he wasn't going to get it done by thinking in circles. He tried to remember the mind-clearing exercises used in Occlumency, now understanding completely what Dumbledore had meant about the values of a pensieve. He heard footsteps on the small path from the Quidditch pitch to the locker rooms and snatched up his Invisibility Cloak, throwing it over himself just as the door swung open.
Ron poked his head in, peering around through the darkness. "Harry? You in here, mate?"
Harry held his breath, quietly scooting himself as close to the wall as he could.
"Come on, Harry! If you're in here, please answer me. Hermione has me looking all over for you." After a few minutes, Ron sighed. "Damnit," he muttered, stepping out and letting the door swing shut again.
Harry listened until he heard Ron walk away, then pulled the cloak off of his head again. He'd known Hermione was looking for him. He'd dodged her a few times already today. He wasn't ready to talk to her yet, though. Not until he figured a few things out.
The spell was first and foremost on his mind. He hadn't cast it, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to. Yes, it had been a miserable existence for him after it had been cast, but it had done what it was supposed to. Ron and Hermione had both lived. They had all survived it, although he doubted any of them had been truly happy. Still, he wondered if, without the spell, things would turn out different. He couldn't bear the thought of losing them because he was being selfish. He was, and he knew it. He didn't want to repeat what he'd had to live through, of course, but he also couldn't imagine how he would feel if one, or both, of them died because of him.
The huge, engulfing sadness welled up in him again, and he tried to force it back down. He couldn't think if he let his emotions take over him. Tears had been threatening him all day at the oddest moments, as though trying to catch him by surprise. They welled again now and he swiped at them furiously. His nerves were raw, his emotions so close to the surface that he felt they would overwhelm him at any moment. He sighed, biting hard on his lip and trying to focus on the sting that resulted. "Think, Harry," he muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest.
His mind roved over the problem again, and came to the same conclusion as before. There was no other way to protect them, short of asking them flat out not to be there. If it was just one of them, he would have a better chance of keeping them safe. Even if he had to throw himself in front of a curse for them, he would. The trouble with that, of course, was he would probably only be able to do that once. And, unless he'd managed to take care of Voldemort first, the Death Eaters would still win. If he died, Voldemort would win.
This thought supported the entirely wrong theory. He'd lived through it the first time, whether because of or in spite of the spell. So, what were his chances without the spell? Better or worse? It was a minor point to him, since it was much more important to keep Hermione and Ron safe than himself, but it was a point nonetheless. And, again, it supported the thought that maybe he should do the spell again and just live with the consequences.
He was starting to go over the pros and cons yet again, when the door opened again and he blinked against the sudden influx of gray sunlight. There, framed in the door, stood Hermione. One hand rested on her hip while the other held the door, and Harry could see that both of them were clenched into fists. "Ron was just in here," she said, her voice hard. "Why didn't you answer him?"
Harry set his jaw, not appreciating her tone. "Because I didn't want to."
"Well that wasn't very nice of you, Harry," she snapped, stalking inside and letting the door swing shut behind her. "What's with you? And don't say 'nothing', because we both know that's not true."
"I just want to be alone."
She frowned. "Why?"
"Because I do," he said, shaking his head. "Why'd you come back in here, anyway? If Ron was in here and didn't see me--?"
She rolled her eyes, holding up her hand. "Took me a while to think of it," she said, waving a piece of seemingly blank parchment in front of him. Harry recognized it as the Marauder's Map. "Thanks for letting me use it, by the way."
"Yeah, no problem. Hermione, I really need to--."
"Forget it," she broke in, shaking her head.
"What?" he asked, stunned. "Forget what?"
"I'm not leaving you alone right now. I let you have all of last night and all of this morning to yourself. No, I want to talk to you. What's up?"
"Who are you to decide when I get to be alone and when I don't?"
"I'm your friend," she said simply. "And honestly, I think that after what almost happened last night, that term may need to be modified a bit."
He sighed, feeling his cheeks flush. "Uh, yeah. About that-I'm-I'm sorry. I know I just-ran off on you, but I have a really good reason."
She nodded. "You changed you mind."
Harry gasped. "What? No! No, I didn't. Well, I did, but-not about that. Not about-you. It was-something else."
"What else?" Hermione frowned.
"I-I can't tell you. I wish I could, but I just-can't. But, please believe me; I didn't change my mind about you."
Hermione watched him for a second, her eyes searching his face. Then, finally, she shrugged. "Well, I can't say that I understand that, but of course I believe you. I just wish you could tell me what this is all about. You're acting very strange, Harry."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"So, if you didn't change your mind about me, then-do you still, you know-want to?"
He blushed slightly. "I-I do. But-there's something I think you should know first."
She frowned. "Harry, I think I know everything there is to know about you."
"You don't know this," he laughed softly. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I should have told you long before now."
He hesitated a minute, and Hermione leaned forward, her face full of concern. "Harry, what is it?"
He took a deep breath, then forced the words out. "Hermione, I love you."
It was almost comical for him to watch the normally calm and collected Hermione Granger get flustered. She blinked at him, then did a double-take. Her brow was furrowed, her lips pursed and her hands fluttered restlessly in her lap. Finally, she opened her mouth and muttered. "I don't-think I heard you right."
"What did you hear?" he teased.
"Well," she laughed nervously, "I thought that-I heard you say that-you love me."
He nodded. "That's right."
She blinked again. "Oh." For the first time since he'd known her, Harry sensed that Hermione was having a hard time understanding something. "You-you're not-just joking with me, are you?"
"No. Of course not. Why? Would you rather I was?"
His heart missed a beat when she didn't respond immediately. After what seemed like an eternity, she choked out. "N-no. I-I just-I'm having a very hard time believing it. N-not that I don't believe you, but-well, it's just so-sudden."
He laughed softly, standing and stretching before taking a seat beside her. "It might seem that way to you, but to me, it's been there for a long, long time. Only I never had the courage to tell you."
Hermione was flushed, a dazed look in her eyes. "Well, I'm-glad that you did."
"You don't look glad," he teased, smirking.
"Oh! Oh, no, I am! No, I just-well, you surprised me, that's all. No, I really am-very happy that you told me."
He waited for her to say more, but she didn't. "Hermione?"
"Hmm?"
"Is there-anything else you want to say?"
He could tell that she understood perfectly what he was asking, and the blush on her cheeks deepened. She continued to twist her fingers, avoiding his eyes. He could almost see the moment she decided to tell him. Her shoulders squared, her jaw set and she took a long breath. "Actually, Harry, there is. I suppose I should have said something a long time ago, like you, but I-didn't know how you felt. Now that I know, I don't see any reason not to tell you. I-um, I love you, too, Harry. I-I have for a long while."
He barely fought back the urge to jump in the air and let out a loud whoop. Instead, he allowed himself a wide grin. "I-I was really hoping you'd say that."
She nodded, smiling. "So, what now? I mean, I think the admission of love usually comes later in the relationship, if at all, so-where do we start?"
"We could pick up where we left off last night," Harry suggested, trying, and failing, to make it sound innocent.
Hermione giggled. "I think that maybe we should-take it a bit slower than that. If this is headed where I think it's headed, then I think we'll have time for that later."
"Damn," Harry muttered, shaking his head. "Can I at least kiss you?"
She breathed what was unmistakably a sigh of relief. "God, yes. Please do."
He put his hand on her cheek, turning her face toward him. She leaned forward, kissing him gently, almost experimentally, and he let her, not willing to push her just yet. While none of this seemed new to him, it was to her. She didn't remember all the times that they'd been together, which technically, had never happened now. This Hermione was still a virgin, something he hadn't known the first time around. She had no idea that, in his mind, he'd been inside her several times, knew exactly how she sounded when she was aroused, and knew exactly what to do to make her lose every semblance of control. She broke off the kiss, an inquisitive look on her face. "I, um-wow." She laughed softly. "I think we're going to need to do quite a lot of that in the very near future."
He grinned. "I hope so. And-not to ruin the mood but-we should probably consider telling Ron sometime soon. He's not going to be happy about it, but I think it will be worse if we-don't tell him."
Hermione sighed. "I suppose we should. I don't want to hurt him, though. Do you think he'll be okay with it? Eventually, I mean?"
"I'm sure he'll come around. It might take him some time."
"And, in the meantime, I guess we'll have to-try not to be-you know."
"Gropey? Touchy-feely? Snog-crazy?"
Hermione giggled again. "I was going to say openly-affectionate."
"Same thing," he laughed. "We'll just have to do all of our groping in privacy, then."
"What's with you?" Hermione gasped, trying to look appalled. "I'd never imagined you would be so--."
"Horny?"
"Okay, yes. Horny. Of course, you are seventeen, which I suppose means you're going to be--."
"Hermione?"
She stopped, wincing. "Yes?"
"Don't analyze me, just kiss me."
She moved toward him again, and he decided he could only be so patient with her. He pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers, running his tongue across her lips. If snogging was all he was going to get for a while, he at least wanted to make it good. She gasped against his mouth, and he slid his tongue against hers, letting out a mental cheer when she moaned. He fought hard to keep his hands from wandering, but his hormones eventually won out and he allowed himself to reach up and cup her breast.
She didn't stop him, didn't pull away, so he kept going, unfastening her cloak then reaching up under her jumper. She pressed into his hand almost hesitantly, pulling back to look into his eyes. She was nearly breathless when she spoke. "I, um-I'm starting to rethink that 'let's take it slow' thing."
He laughed. "Maybe we should move this elsewhere, then. I don't think a locker room is the most romantic place for a first time."
She nodded. "I don't really care about romance at the moment, but this bench is a bit hard." Her hand was wandering up the inside of his thigh, and he sucked in a breath, his eyes sliding shut. "Then again, this is a-nice room."
"Nice--," he agreed, moaning as she cupped him through his trousers. "Are you-sure you want to do this?"
She hummed her appreciation of the way he was reacting to her. "Absolutely. And-the sooner, the better."
He forced himself to move, snatching his Invisibility cloak off of the floor and pulling her to her feet. "I couldn't agree with you more."
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He gripped her hand tightly as they hurried through the corridors, both of them sweating a bit from the thick layers of clothing they were wearing and the excitement of the moment. The cloak nearly slipped off of them several times, and when Harry discovered that the seventh floor hallway was deserted, he quickly pulled it off, tugging her toward their destination. She waited as he completed the ritual that made the door appear, then giggled as he tugged her inside and slammed the door shut behind him.
He pressed her against the door, capturing her lips in a rough kiss, hurriedly tugging at her cloak. They tried to undress each other as quickly as possible, cloth tearing here, buttons flying off there, and tumbled onto the bed wrapped in each other's arms.
Hermione gasped when he pulled back from her, staring down into her eyes, feeling his heart skip in his chest. "You know I love you, right?"
She laughed softly. "I know."
"And I'll do anything to protect you, no matter how much it might hurt?"
She started to answer, and then frowned. "Harry, what--? What are you talking about?"
He sighed. "Just-don't ever forget that I love you, all right? No matter what happens."
She nodded, obviously concerned. "All right. I won't forget, Harry."
He took a deep breath and bent to kiss her, the words Vincolo per sempre echoing through his mind.
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I hope that you enjoyed it. It's been fun writing it, and I have loved how much response it has gotten. I'm still floored by it. I hate that it has to end, but this will free me up to write another very different story now, which I'm looking forward to. Thank you all SO MUCH for reading. I know I say it all the time but-YOU ALL ROCK!
Thanks again to HarrynHermione4eva, the best beta anyone could ever ask for! I can't tell you how much help you've been on this!
Oh, that's right; I haven't interpreted the words in the last line, have I? Shame on me. :D It's Italian and it means Bonded Forever.
*grins*