*CHAPTER 9 - ANOTHER QUICK UPDATE!* Harry was so unromantic. She wanted to be swept off her feet. But he wouldn't budge. And then she guessed they weren't meant to be. A story that explores the expression of romantic love. "The way to love anything is to realize it might be lost."
From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/6608/
Green Day - Time of Your Life
“Another turning point
A fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist
Directs you where to go,
So make the best of this test and don't ask why,
It's not a question but a lesson learned in time,
(Chorus)
It's something unpredictable
But in the end it's right
I hope you had the time of your life.
So take the photographs and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time,
Tattoos and memories of skin on trial
For what it's worth,
It was worth all the while.”
~
Angela Millstone was probably the most ill-spirited woman she had ever met in life. And Angela's wrath had now turned its ugly head towards her. Hermione had just won a promotion over her colleague Angela who was her superior in age and experience.
It wasn't her fault really. Hermione had risen through the ranks of St. Mungo's quite quickly. She was intelligent, dedicated and hard-working.
Hermione had avoided Angela like the plague since the Head Healer had announced Hermione's promotion. When the announcement had been made Angela had smiled maliciously at Hermione from across the conference room. Later she had congratulated Hermione saying, “The real charmer, aren't ya'?” Needless to say, Hermione felt uncomfortable. It surprised Hermione how very much alike Angela Millstone was to Dolores Umbridge.
Hermione was ecstatic about the promotion. It was yet another testament of her abilities. She had not intended initially to become a Healer. She always imagined herself with a job in the Ministry with her surplus of ambition. But after the Ministry's lack of support for Harry in Fifth and Six Years, Hermione had changed her mind entirely.
Harry.
They were engaged. Harry's marriage proposal was not “romantic” per say. It was far from it. But then a mature woman's conception of love was far different from that of a young girl's. In a young girl's ideal world, knights in shining armor sat bent on one knee while professing their love for the maiden in question. Instead real life men nervously lean over the kitchen counter and ask their girlfriends to marry them while said girlfriends are busy stuffing their mouths and chomping down bacon and eggs for a full day at work.
When Harry had proposed, she had been shocked. They had been casually going out for two years. But it was a comfortable relationship. There were hugs and a few kisses but nothing more than that. Whenever she though about his proposal, she still felt the same rush of emotions of joy mingled with doubt. She had tried to convince herself that doubt was only a small part of the emotions she experienced when he proposed.
She had accepted his proposal naturally. Her parents and her school friends all expected Harry and herself to eventually exchange wedding bands. They were “the perfect couple.”
There was no doubt that she loved him. But she doubted the extent to which she did. And maybe it was all about her mind playing games with her. Luckily work had helped keep her mind from all these nonsensical thoughts.
But work wasn't exactly very relaxing right now with Angela on the warpath.
So that Friday morning when she saw Angela moving towards the west wing of the hospital only yards away from her, the first escape plan she thought of was hiding in medical supply closet. Later how she fit herself into that small excuse of a closet would always be a mystery to her.
Minutes later, Angela had opened the door of the closet to reach out for some bandages when she had found Hermione inside.
Hermione shrieked.
“What are you doing in here?” Angela asked her eyes narrowing as she stared at Hermione uncompromisingly.
“Umm… I… I was… checking for supplies in the closet,” she finally croaked. Haphazardly she stumbled out of the closet. Nervously she fingered her engagement ring feeling very much like a guilty child. She tried calming her nerves as she mentally chastised herself for actually hiding in the closet.
“You could do that outside the closet instead of sitting underneath its shelves dearie,” she remarked casually as if she was used to finding her co-workers in closets every single day. Hermione blushed a deep crimson.
Quickly, Hermione moved to exit the embarrassing situation. Hermione said slowly retreating, “I think I have to check up on my patient Agatha. I guess… I gu - I'll see you around.”
“Asked you did he?” her tone suddenly brisk. Her beady eyes were fixated on Hermione's ring. Hermione had still not stopped fingering her ring finger.
Hermione nodded defiantly.
“And you're convinced you love him?”
“Ofcourse I am.”
“And I am a monkey's uncle. You're just leading him on. Even the Witch Weekly said so.”
“Angela, I'm warning you…”
“Oh lass, I don't want to hear your bloody protestations. Everyone knows Ronald Weasley broke your heart when he married that Lovegood girl. You started dating him only weeks after they two married. I notice coincidences, honey.”
“Ron and I never… How dare you?”
She had never felt an overpowering sense to smack someone before even Malfoy. She wanted to wipe that knowing smug off that woman's face.
Her eyes flashed dangerously. “Ms. Millstone, let me remind you, that you are in no position to pass any judgment on the relationship that my fiancé and I share.”
“Ay dearie, no need to get your panties in a knot! Just making sure you don't ruin the sanity of the Savior of the Wizarding World,” she said turning her back on Hermione.
As the Angela walked away, Hermione's eyes bore into the back of her head. She wanted to plunge her hand into her robes and jinx the woman into oblivion. Or better: punch her. And then there was that part of her that wanted to cry. Sit down and cry and cry and cry.
What if Angela was right? What if she was leading Harry on?
The rest of the morning passed in a daze. Soon she was asking the Head Healer for the day off. After peering at her quizzically he asked her if she had any pending surgeries. When she answered in the negative he allowed her to leave recommending that she get some rest during the weekend. No wonder. She looked like hell.
She immediately apparated home. Out of habit, she checked the fridge for something to eat. Surprisingly all she could find was cheese and onions. She really needed to buy some food.
Once more, she ran her hand through her tangled hair. Her hair had begun to surround her head like a lion's mane as it often did when she felt frustrated.
She hated feeling weak especially after the War. She had vowed to be strong for Harry and her friends but sometimes she couldn't do it.
“Onions. I like onions,” she said grabbing a sack of onions. Onions made people cry. She wanted to cry. So she started cutting onions. Onion after onion. Her mother had always instructed her to cut onions under running water to disperse the sulfuric compounds. But she didn't bother to do so. She continued to cut onions and cry. Onion after onion.
As her eyes stung, she let the tears roll down her cheeks. She wasn't sure what was making her cry. Angela's words or the onions.
The truth was Hermione wanted the “romantic” proposal and the knight in shining armor. She wanted passion and love in a relationship. Before she started dating Harry, all she had wanted was a companion. But now she wanted to experience feelings of zeal, craze and desire. She wanted to love someone passionately.
She loved Harry. She did. But not with passion. And Harry was not a romantic on any accounts. His feelings seemed so platonic most of the time.
Yet sometimes in those rare “non-Harry” moments he would whisper and tell her he loved her. And for a fleeting moment she would feel she loved him too. Then why did she choke up? Why didn't she tell him she loved him back? Never in the two years that they had been together had she told him that she loved him.
And so she cried.
It was late evening when Harry came home.
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Do You Love Me? - Chapter 2
The Rose - Bette Midler
“Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed;
Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed;
Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need;
I say love, it is a flower, and you, its only seed.
Its the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance -
Its the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance -
Its the one who wont be taken, the one who cant seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong -
Just remember that in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed, that with the suns love in the spring becomes the rose.”
The way to love anything is to realize it might be lost.
Harry tried fixing his tie in the mirror. He hated ties. Truly, he did. They were constricting and too official-looking. But Ginny had specifically asked him to wear it for his date to the charity event today.
“Cross narrow end over wide…”
“No, honey, it's the other way around,” his mirror said correcting him, “It's sort of like tying your shoelace.”
“I wish you could materialize and tie it for me,” Harry replied distractedly.
“Wait! Wait, honey! Remember collar up! And tie the button!”
Unconsciously, Harry began backing away from the bathroom mirror and moving into the hallway towards an adjacent bedroom as he continued to fidget with the insufferable tie.
“Drape and loop! I think I've got it!” Harry sang. However, just as he reached to tighten the supposed knot in his tie, it came undone.
“Oh for Merlin's sake! I can't do this! HERMIO -” Suddenly, Harry stopped abruptly in front of the closed door to the room that used to be Hermione's.
He slapped himself on the forehead muttering to himself. He must be going senile. At 26. Hermione had moved away and moved on six months ago. And here he was calling for her to fix his stupid, stupid tie. Because she did it best. Magic was absolutely useless in this case. He would not be able to fix his tie if he could not conjure a proper image of mentally tying the tie. This was the nature of magic sometimes. He had never bothered to learn to fix a tie because he always thought she would be there to do it for him.
“She's gone, you idiot. She's gone,” he whispered to himself.
He wished he didn't remember her as well as he did. There were times when he could go hours on end without thinking about her. Without remembering her soft yet blazing voice. The pondering, intelligent expression on her face. Her uncontrollable, bushy brown hair. Her smile. And then once again the memory of Hermione would catch up to him. Like the angry waves on a seaside shore during a heavy storm.
After Hermione had left, Harry had busied himself with Auror duties rushing into one dangerous assignment after another. It was so reckless of him to do that. Ron saved him a month later. Ron told Remus, the head of the Auror Department, that Harry was purposely drowning himself in work to get over Hermione. Remus forced him to take a two-week vacation.
Of course Harry had been absolutely starking mad.
“Ron, I don't need a bloody two-week vacation!”
“Yes, you do. You haven't allowed yourself any time to think about the changes in your life.”
“Since when have you become Dr. Weasley? Luna's obviously done a number on you. And Hermione moved on. I can accept that!”
“You can't even bear to stay at Godric's Hollow for more than two or three hours.. I'm your best mate, Harry. Don't `Hermione moved on' me.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Cry over my misfortune? My whole life I have borne my heart on my sleeve for everyone to see. This is what I get in return. She thinks I'm pathetic, Ron. That I can't live without her. Well, I can. I am going to prove it to her.”
“You're both being irrational. I'll have you told that Her-”
“Ron, that's enough. I'll take leave from work. But please don't tell me how jolly her life is without me. Okay?”
Harry had spent those two weeks trying to come to terms with life without Hermione. He had loved her. He loved her still. But she didn't love him. She had never said so explicitly. But he knew how to take a hint. She had blatantly refused his affections only days after they got engaged.
One day, he came home and he wasn't right for her anymore. Or that's what she implied. He would never be able to withstand onions in his life again.
Unexpectedly, the ancient grandfather clock in the living room struck seven and Harry was knocked out of his dazed stupor.
“I'm going to be late!” Harry said slinging the useless piece of silk around his neck anyway as he motioned towards the Portkey Ginny had sent over earlier. The Portkey would activate exactly at seven and transport him to his date's house. And yes, Ginny Longbottom had set the famous Harry Potter on a blind date.
See, he was moving on. But as Harry clasped the silly heart-shaped Portkey at the seventh stroke of the grandfather clock, he felt as if he was nearing something familiar. Something so familiar that it left his own heart racing wildly and drumming restlessly in his ears.
So when Harry arrived at the Granger's residence, he had a remarkably goofy smile on his face until he realized where exactly he was.
(A/N): Hello, my beloved readers! Long time, no see. What can I say? But school. School. School. And college applications. Isn't Harry such an adorable dolt? My, my, isn't he having a severe conflict between the conscious and unconscious parts of his mind? I will be able to update more frequently. Hopefully. But please review. Because I would have been able to write this chapter without 22 beautiful reviews last time. It meant so very, very much to me. And all critique is welcome. You are going to love the next chapter! Remember reviewing makes the world go round.
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Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman? - Bryan Adams
“To really love a woman
To understand her - you gotta know her deep inside
Hear every thought - see every dream
N' give her wings - when she wants to fly
Then when you find yourself lyin' helpless in her arms
Ya know ya really love a woman
When you love a woman you tell her
that she's really wanted
When you love a woman you tell her that she's the one
Cuz she needs somebody to tell her
that it's gonna last forever
So tell me have you ever really
- really really ever loved a woman?”
Do You Love Me? - Chapter 3
Harry apparated into the living room after a long day of work. Two Death-Eater raids and tons of paperwork to match. Life was all happy, happy, joy, joy.
“Hermione, I'm home.”
No response.
“Hermione?” Harry called again going into the kitchen.
Suddenly, he was hit by an overwhelming scent - smell - wait, whiff of something. His eyes began to cloud and tear.
“Her -uh,” he sharply gasped.
“Oh God! Harry! Sorry! EVANESCO AIRE!” he heard Hermione scream.
Still momentarily blinded, Harry grasped for something to hold onto. He felt Hermione slip her hand into his.
“Sit down,” she said.
“What in Merlin's world is going on?” Harry said drawing a barstool near Hermione's and taking a seat as he removed his hand from hers. Quickly, he wiped his eyes as he took in his surroundings.
There were onion peels all over the kitchen tabletop. Plastic “Weezard Wizard's Grocery” bags were strewn over the counter behind their barstools. In the middle of the table lay about twenty full plates of chopped onion.
“I was just about to get another plate,” Hermione said.
“Ummm… Are you trying to make onion stew? I love you cooking. Honestly, I do. I do. But I have to warn you, Hermione. Ehh… Onion stew tastes terrible and I'm sure it doesn't need that many plates of onions. I think you've cut up enough to last us a year. I didn't even know we had that many bags of -. Wait, are you crying?”
He had finally had a good look at her. Her cheeks were splotchy. Her eyes teary. And her nose. Her nose was pink and seemed slightly swollen.
She stayed silent avoiding his gaze.
He knew when she cried. During the War, she had been his constant support. His rock. Even Ron had bailed on him during their eleven years of friendship. But she never had. They were best friends first and foremost. He liked to think that he knew her better than he even knew himself.
“Hermione, did something happen at the hospital? Was Angela Millstone baiting you again?” he asked.
And before he knew it, he was enveloped in one of Hermione's famous, crushing bear-hugs as she started to cry. She had jumped off the barstool and stood in his arms.
“Harry, I'm so sorry,” she whispered again and again.
He patted her gently. Harry never did well with crying women.
“What are you sorry about? Are you okay?”
“I'm such an idiot.”
“Definitely not one of the words I would use to describe you.”
The tears stopped. Her cheeks glistened. Hermione laughed.
“And what words would you use to describe me then?” she asked.
Hermione had given Harry the perfect opening. To be romantic. She could just imagine what those tall, dark handsome heroes would say from the romance novels she used to sneak from her mother's bookshelf. They would look into the heroine's eyes, move closer, and whisper the sweetest words of poetry or power. Their praises would be as high as goddess divine, or even as simple as the love of my life.
She thought she had calmed down since Angela's words in the morning. And she felt guilty for doubting her relationship with Harry. She was an idiot. But Harry had woken up all her insecurities again. Harry just wasn't romantic. But did that mean… Did that mean he didn't love her? That they were predictable like Angela said. That they expected to end up with each other. That this - everything that was going on between them - was convenient. She hadn't believed him when he had professed his love for her previously. That was the truth. It didn't seem genuine because she didn't think he ever showed any other signs of loving her. But now. Here. Right here and right now. This is what she was actually asking him: `Do you love me? Really and truly, do you love me?'
Cryptic though it may be.
Poor Harry had no idea he was being tested.
“Hermione.”
“Yes?”
“No, umm… I mean the word I would use to describe you with is Hermione.”
“That's my name.”
“I know.”
Suddenly, Hermione turned from Harry and started to clear the kitchen tabletop. That was definitely not what she was expecting.
Harry was confused by Hermione's reaction. His body missed Hermione's warmth.
“So what happened today?” he asked.
“Angela thinks I'm leading you on,” Hermione responded briskly as she started to throw out the onions and wash the plates in the sink behind Harry.
“Leading me - what?”
And Hermione didn't want to be cryptic anymore.
“Do you think we're predictable, Harry?” she said turning around and resting her hands on the edges of the kitchen sink.
And for the first time during the span of the night, Harry spoke up.
“I don't know why that is any of Angela's concern if we are predictable or not. And what's wrong with being predictable, Hermione? I want `predictable'. And I never thought I would ever hear this from you. How can you forget the War?”
Hermione quickly sucked in her breath.
“Why are you making this about the War? Don't make this about Tom Riddle. I'm asking you about our relationship.”
“Because you're not happy.”
“I've been having doubts about us, Harry.”
“Why? What have I done?” he said suddenly standing up and facing her.
“It's not you. It's me.”
“Do you think we need a break?”
“Harry!”
He was furious and upset. Was she really having doubts about them? “Do you think we need a break?” he repeated choking on the last syllable. She was going to give up on them after everything they had been through.
Hermione felt her own heart tear into two. She didn't notice the same happening to Harry. She couldn't - wouldn't look at him.
“May - maybe, we should.”
And just like that, she apparated out of their apartment.
The last six months of Hermione's life were hell on earth. He didn't love her. Eleven years of friendship gone. She though that no matter what happened they would have stayed friends. But this wasn't something trivial. Together they had gone through so much. Hogwarts. The War. The Horcrux hunt. Adjusting to life after the War. Living in Grimmauld's place after graduation. And then moving into Godric's Hollow. Healer & Auror training.
And she knew now that she loved him. Loved him so much that it hurt. But it didn't matter. Because he didn't love her.
She moved back to her parent's house.
But today she was going to meet Harry again. He was giving a speech at a charity event. She and Harry had created the War Veterans' charity with the help of the Creevey brothers.
And somehow Ginny had convinced her to go on a blind date. Tonight. Of all nights when she was the most vulnerable.
See, she was moving on. Imagine her surprise when at exactly seven o'clock she opened the door and found the person she least expected. He was staring at her. His green eyes flicking angrily across her face.
“Hermione, who's at the door?” her mother called.
His expression softened.
(A/N): I'm dying to know your reaction! Can we show some love for Hermione? How do you feel? Did you love it? Hate it? How should I improve? Was it anything you expected? I'm sort of scared about this chapter! Please, please review.
I'm excited to write the next chapter. I want to thank all my anonymous reviewers, pottercrazy, ivy, izzieq, mushypeas, lorel, mathiasgranger, margie19142, Harryluver05, Free28, oneiros lykos, princessoftheworld, Amazing Sorceress, Molly, alayneni, and Bra4goten. Your encouragement and criticism was extremely valuable to me. I wrote review replies for everyone. I hope I was able to answer your questions. Once again, thank you so much for reviewing.
Far Away - Nickelback
“This time, this place
Misused, mistakes
Too long, too late
Who was I to make you wait?
Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there's just one left
'Cause you know,
You know, you know...
[chorus]
That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long.
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
And you'll never go
Stop breathing if
I don't see you anymore.”
Chapter 4 - Do You Love Me?
“I'm going to kill Ginny,” he muttered as a multitude of emotions took hold of him.
Hermione stood unmoving staring at Harry as if she had seen a ghost. Or rather as if she had seen Voldemort being resurrected. Indeed not a good image to have in mind. Though the sight of Harry was more pleasant - perhaps even welcomed - Hermione did not react for a few minutes until a deep-seated blush took over her features.
“Harry!” exclaimed a medium-sized, sixty year-old version of Hermione standing behind her daughter.
Mrs. Granger soon moved to give the young man in front of her a hug. Mrs. Granger absolutely adored Harry. He was her favorite of Hermione's friends. Truth to be told she found Ronald Weasley too quiet and a bit surly. Harry, on the other hand, had an agreeable disposition. He was tall, lanky, boyish, shy, intelligent and good-hearted. A fit match for her daughter.
Yes, Hermione's mother was shocked to see Harry at her door. Hermione had not been forthcoming with details about what happened between the two of them. She had asked to move back in six months ago. However, slowly, Mrs. Granger had pieced tiny parts of the story together. Hermione had not been able to reconcile certain expectations of hers in her relationship with Harry. She sensed that there was still unfinished business between the two young people. Indeed Hermione had drowned herself in work spending every waking moment at the hospital because her guilt seemed to consume her being.
Harry robotically returned Mrs. Granger's hug. She was a good woman. He did not want to hurt her. But Merlin did he want to run out right now. However, it was not in Harry Potter's nature to avoid a direct challenge. He knew what would happen when he had rung the bell. He seemed to be calling Hermione back into his life. And Ginny? How dare she interfere? How dare she presume anything on his part? A righteous indignation crawled upon him.
“Harry, come in! Should I put the kettle on for a spot of tea? Hermione dear, show Harry to the living room please while I get some biscuits,” said Mrs. Granger leaving Harry and Hermione in the foyer.
“Harry, I…”
He stared at her.
“I'm sorry,” she said breaking eye contact with him and leading him into the living room.
He wanted to shout at her. Tell her she didn't mean it. Scream at her. But he was so confused. He was in her house. Her territory. He had made the first move though unwillingly.
She turned around and surveyed him. Finally, she took his hand and whispered, “Don't leave.”
And this is how it begins. Another dance. Another song.
“Don't touch me, Hermione.”
However, suddenly, she pulled the tie that he had forgotten about from the collar of his shirt and started to tie it into a Windsor knot fixing it around his neck. Her fingers worked quickly and expertly. Her scent filled his nostrils. He was mesmerized all over again. But he began to resist every urge in his body that told him to lean down and kiss her. He had every right to be angry with her.
“I'm sorry.” she said then shaking her head tossing her mop of curls, “I don't even have the right to ask you to stay.”
He immediately pulled away from her once she finished tying the knot. He backed away adjusting the length of the tie. At least he knew how to do that. He hated how dependent he was on her right now. Next time, he was going to buy a readymade tie. One of those things with a strap.
But she did want him to stay. She missed him and just being this near to him reminded her of that.
“But we are going to the same charity event. Can we go together for old time's sake?”
He scoffed.
“I won't be your escort for the night, Hermione.”
Hermione remembered Ginny. She appreciated what Ginny had done for her. This was another chance. But had she all ready lost her chance with Harry?
“I understand.”
Instinctively sensing the tension between Harry and Hermione, Crookshanks hurtled out of nowhere into the living room. The kneazle purred and meowed scratching at Harry's robes. Despite himself, Harry smiled picking Crookshanks up and into his arms.
Hermione was surprised by how much her attitude towards Harry had changed. She had taken Harry for granted after the War. But now she saw all the same things she had loved about Harry before the War. After the war, she had gotten caught up in the “reality” of life. She expected normal life to be a certain way. But there were no parameters. No guidelines on how life should be. Life was what you made of it.
“You little tiger,” Harry said, “Did you miss me?”
Crookshanks meowed.
“Finally, that cat has made some noise,” Mrs. Granger said bringing in a tray, “I was getting tired of it hissing around. Hermione, what time did you say you were supposed to be at the War Veterans' charity event tonight?”
Mrs. Granger's knowledge about her daughter's world was limited. Yet her daughter told her some of what happened during the “War” as it was termed. That time had been particular hard even on the Muggle world with strange signs of destruction and havoc appearing all of the world. Any other woman in the world would have refused to believe such stories of wonder and magic. Mrs. Granger was not ordinary though. She was a scientist. A person who believed that there was more to the world than the surface.
But then the War had ended. And she was drawn to believe even with the limited details that this peace was a result of the actions of these two stubborn individuals standing in front of her.
“Seven-thirty,” Hermione said glancing at her watch, “It's seven-fifteen now.”
“You're going to be late! Oh no!”
“Mum, I don't think I'm going,” Hermione said looking at her mother and sending her a look asking her not to question her right now.
“Right…” Mrs. Granger said trying to hide her disappointment as her smile disappeared, “We could finish watching that genetics documentary instead if you like.”
Harry noticed the silent exchange between mother and daughter and inwardly sighed as he petted Crookshanks on the head. Hermione had to be at the event. This was their brain child. He didn't want Hermione's mother to be upset either. Plus, there would be no better way to show her that he had moved on than for him to spend a few hours in her company.
“Hermione, you have to go. Come on,” he said setting Crookshanks down on the floor. He motioned towards the door apologizing to Mrs. Granger.
“Sorry, we couldn't have tea, Mrs. Granger. It was nice seeing you,” Harry said smiling and hugging Hermione's mother. Mrs. Granger was truly a nice woman. Maybe it was because she knew and treated him as “just Harry” but he always felt kindly towards her.
“Nice to see you too, dear,” Mrs. Granger said laughing. Harry Potter definitely had some charm that was evident even through his shyness.
Hermione was stunned. He wanted to go with her?
“Hermione, let's go,” Harry said briskly moving towards the door feeling confident. He had this sudden burst of adrenaline. He could do this.
Puzzled, Hermione checked that her wand was securely in her robe pockets before kissing her mother goodbye. Mrs. Granger clasped her daughter's hand. Brown eyes bore into brown eyes. On the pretext of tucking a stray hair behind her daughter's ear, Mrs. Granger leaned in and whispered, “Be yourself, please.”
Hermione nodded squeezing her mother's hand.
“It's starting to rain outside. We better hurry,” Harry said using a short, clipping tone despite his newfound self-assurance.
“We could use an Impervius. Bye, Mum,” Hermione said smiling. Then she grimaced. She remembered Harry's scary Quidditch match in Third Year when he had lost consciousness.
And so the couple stepped outside apparating to the charity event at the Ministry of Magic.
(A/N): This chapter portrayed Hermione more sympathetically. I still think Harry and Hermione are in for a huge row soon. Don't you think? I've written out part of the next chapter… Please, please review. Did I do justice with Mrs. Granger's character? We will find our more about her in later chapters and she is going to be instrumental in understanding Hermione's actions. I also changed a tiny detail. Harry and Hermione have been friends for eleven years. Not fifteen. And I know all of you want fluff… Lots of it… It's coming. They have to explain everything to each other before they can reconcile… Boy, is that going to be fun.
I want to thank all my anonymous reviews, mathiasgranger, autumnRose, gingercat, Xaviel, 101309, azi, izzieq, Drake, mushypeas, Brenda, ivy, Mmbug98841, pottercrazy, harry_mione_love, Julesy, NicohlePotter86, Alcie, CrimsonTemplar, princessoftheworld, alayneni, passion fruit, LilytheSpitfire, Free28, Kiera, HermionePotter726, Bra4goten, Molly, oneiros lykos, minnimione, candid, cincoquatro and sad2bsony. Your encouragement and criticism means the world to me.
Somewhere Only We Know - Keane
“I walked across an empty land,
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand.
I felt the earth beneath my feet,
Sat by the river and it made me complete.
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.
So tell me when you're gonna let me in,
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.
I came across a fallen tree,
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.
So tell me when you're gonna let me in,
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.
AND if you have a minute why don't we go,
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything.
So why don't we go, somewhere only we know,
Somewhere only we know.”
Chapter 5 - Do You Love Me?
Harry and Hermione arrived slightly early. They piled into the phone booth and received their badges. Next, Hermione relinquished her wand at the security desk. As an Auror, Harry had special clearance.
Truly, their proximity was disconcerting to both of them. They had not expected to be so near each other after their decision six months ago.
Harry was still angry and his temper could flare up at any moment. Hermione wisely noted this. Hermione knew the signs. If she provoked him, he would enter into a tirade definitely reminiscent of his outbursts in Fifth Year.
She knew she deserved his anger. However, she did not want to divulge her reasons for her dissatisfaction six months ago. At least not yet.
They entered the elevator. Harry closed his eyes. Despite working in this building every single day, he could never forget their adventures in the Department of Mysteries five years ago. He lost Sirius here. He also nearly lost his Hermione.
Not that she cared he thought somewhat bitterly. But then he felt her clasping his arm and when he opened his eyes, she was looking at him worriedly. They stared at each other until Harry felt uncomfortable. He reminded himself to be angry. He remembered the six months of questions and the amount of frustration he had felt. He coughed and as politely as he could, he brushed her off.
Hermione felt his rejection acutely. She hadn't realized that she was clasping his arm until he pushed her away.
Soon, they had reached the fifth floor where the Department of International Magical Cooperation was located. Harry and Hermione were directed to the event. Heads turned as the chief guests Harry Potter and Hermione Granger made way into the crowd.
“Harry! Hermione! Over here!” their friend Ron Weasley exclaimed loudly ahead of them.
Ron Weasley and his wife Luna were sitting at a table right in front of the podium from where the Creevey brothers would present the new charity to the Wizarding world.
Ronald Weasley had not changed much in looks since Seventh Year. He was tall no doubt and a steady glaze of freckles adorned his nose and cheeks. His red hair was still his most distinguishable feature. He was just as jolly and cheery. However, fatherhood and the Horcrux Hunt had bestowed him with some sensibility that he had lacked in their schooldays. After the War, he had dated, engaged and married Luna Lovegood to the surprise of many of their classmates. Hermione had joked about the match indeed calling them perfect for each other. She believed they balanced each other's good and bad qualities.
Luna Lovegood was also the same as ever. She still believed in Blibbering Humdingers and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. She loved wearing beer caps and radishes for earrings. And boy, did she stand out much to the glee of the media who made fun of Luna in their weekly columns. Ofcourse until Mrs. Weasley threatened to send steaming Howlers to any journalists who criticized her daughter-in-law.
The truth was that Luna made Ron feel complete like no other woman could. He was never second-best in her eyes but always first. And Ron looked out for her. She was beautiful with her dirty-blonde hair and grey eyes. Sensitive, and very intelligent despite her mysterious beliefs.
Harry and Hermione went and sat at the table after greeting their friends warmly. Ron kept on looking curiously at his friends wondering why they had come to the event together. Although they were steadily avoiding each other's gazes, they seemed to have called an uneasy truce of sorts.
“Harry, are you hiding any Pigmypuffs? You know how I love surprises,” Luna said.
Harry laughed. “What makes you think I had Pigmypuffs?”
“Ron keeps looking at you strangely. He doesn't like Pigmypuffs very much, I'm afraid.”
Ron blushed. Hermione giggled.
“How's Charlotte?” Hermione asked.
“Cheery as ever. I've been teaching her how to say Quidditch. She's going to say it any day now.”
“Ron,” Hermione said laughing, “She won't be saying Quidditch for awhile. She hasn't even said dada yet. Mind you, da is much easier to say than ma for a young child. However, it is important in language development that you constantly speak to your child. Language is actually one of the first indications of future intelligence. Sam's all ready started cooing and laughing out loud so that's a very good sign.”
“Don't you want her first word to be daddy, Ron?” Harry asked smiling at his besotted friend.
“Nah, it'll come in time. I can't wait until she's old enough to play Quidditch. She's going to break your record, Harry, and become the youngest player to make a Hogwarts house team.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Harry replied cheekily, “Only a Potter will break a Potter record.”
Hermione looked quizzically at Ron.
“Ron, Charlie can't become the youngest player. She's born in February,” Hermione said.
“What? I don't get it.”
“Charlie would have to be born after Harry's birthday in order to be youngest. Harry had just reached eleven when he became Seeker. Charlie would be past 11 and a half if she did get on the team in September the first year.”
“Party-pooper.”
“Now that's our Hermione,” said Fred Weasley as George made rude fart noises in the background.
“Stop it, you two,” Hermione mockingly warned as she grinned widely, “Or I'll refer you to Professor McGonagall.”
“Ronniekins, Luna, Harry, Hermione,” Fred and George said nodding to each member sitting at the table.
“Where are Ginny and Neville? The ceremony is starting soon,” George asked.
“They're going to be late. She Flooed us earlier,” Luna said.
“Mum's not going to be making it. She couldn't help remembering Dad and Charlie today,” Fred said.
Everyone nodded solemnly. Charlie and Arthur Weasley died during the course of the War.
“Don't blame her,” Ron said sadly. Today was the anniversary of the end of the War. A War that began five years ago at the end of Sixth Year and left many serious casualties and widespread destruction in his wake.
Luna kissed her husband on the cheek.
Somehow this public display of affection caused Harry and Hermione to simultaneously look at each other.
Just then a voice shouted, “Sonorus!” and Colin Creevey began to speak.
“Welcome! Welcome!” the young Creevey said glancing around at the tables in front of the stage, “It is my pleasure tonight to host the first ever War Veterans' Charity benefit event tonight. Today is an emotional night for me as it is for many of us. It is a reminder that it was only five brief years ago that darkness ended. Yet it is also a reminder that the war itself has not ended. But then who better to speak of our case then the man himself. Wizards and witches, please welcome Harry Potter to the stage!”
“Now? Isn't it a bit too early? I thought Harry was supposed to speak much later in the evening,” Ron said to Luna.
“I'll admit. It's strange,” Hermione said nudging Harry forward.
Harry smiled hesitatingly and walked up to the stage skipping stairs at a time as he ascended. Colin stopped him and whispered something in Harry's ear. Harry briefly nodded before moving to the podium and performing the same spell Colin had.
“I know many of you were expecting me to speak later in the evening after the Minister of Magic but it looks there is a magical warp heading our way. This as I have explained to the Ministry is another repercussion of the War. Magical warps affect the limitations of time and space. I would recommend that most of you take the Knight Bus home tonight instead of apparating since a greater number of body splintering cases have been reported during last two warps.”
“No wonder,” Fred said.
“Moving on… It's five years after the fact and yet we still seek a sense of normalcy in our lives,” Harry continued boring his gaze onto each one individual in the audience, “But at what price are we leaving the War behind us? After the War, I was ready to move on. I cut my connections with the media and the Wizarding world only keeping contact with my close friends. You know, Ron and Hermione, though not necessarily agreeing with my decisions supported me. Or atleast Ron fully did.”
Harry laughed. Hermione smiled sheepishly. They had temporarily forgotten the animosity between them.
“Hermione was worried that I was becoming too withdrawn. One day, Hermione invited me to the hospital. She was in her first days of Healer training. I agreed. Hermione is not a person who arrives late to any engagement but that day she was. That's how I met seven-year-old Abigail. I'm not sure if Hermione had this planned. She never told me. I wouldn't put it beyond her though. After all, Abby's mother was Hermione's patient. Well, Abby. How can I describe her? She was amazing. She had this sweet, unaffected nature. and I almost immediately felt a connection with her.
“Right when I arrived she was sitting quietly in a chair reading a book. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I believe. I sat next to her as I waited for Hermione. She instantly started talking to me. She didn't recognize me. But she saw my Quidditch shoes and we began a conversation on the topic. She loved watching Quidditch. She could describe all the moves and the techniques of the game like an expert. Imagine my surprise then when she told me she had never flown or used a broom previously.
“I asked her why. Apparently, her mother was hospitalized and her father dead. Her poor parents had fought bravely in the War in the hopes of a better future. During the War, her parents never had the time to show Abby the use of a broom. And now? Her mother was fighting every day for survival. Beautiful, bubbly Abby had no aunts or uncles to speak of to take care of her. So this is how she spent her time. Instead of playing games and enjoying and discovering life every day, this lively girl was confined to the four walls of a hospital helping her mother who was undergoing therapy. Sure enough, this incident shocked me.
“I was a coward. I had decided to leave a War that had not ended yet. Recovery had only just begun. I was letting people suffer,” Harry said finally choking on his words as he remembered the incident.
“I kept in touch with Abby and paid her mother's hospital bills. Luckily, her mother recovered. But I wondered… When the main breadwinner in a family is dead, how are the remaining members supposed to recover? How are they supposed to pay the ever-piling bills? What if one of them is sick like in Abby's case? Do we let these things just happen for a War that belonged to no individual alone but to this community as a whole? These questions plagued me. That's when Hermione came up with this idea to begin a War Veterans' charity that will address the needs of those handicapped by the war,” he said locking his eyes with an emotional Hermione's.
“I also enrolled in Auror Academy the next day. I remember the conversation with Hermione. I told Hermione my decision. She hugged me. I guess that was the last bit of encouragement I needed, he continued never moving his eyes from the figure of Hermione in the first row of tables in front of him, “My point though is that we take personal responsibility for this War. Let us be the generation that truly ended this war. Let us not leave the burden of unpaid debts on our sons and daughters. I dare you to move.
“I ask you to make the most of the opportunities offered to you,” he finally muttered more to himself and the audience.
“So please today, donate as much as you can to this worthy cause. Make a contribution. Even as much as a few knuts could add up and change the lives of thousands of wizards and witches living in the aftermath of the War. Thank you.”
Harry had not realized how many people were attending the event until he heard it. The applause. Thunderous. People were giving him a standing ovation. Harry was a good speaker. Yet this was definitely not one of his best speeches. It was simple. Non-descriptive. Bare minimum of details. Yet the speech had touched the hearts of every single person in the audience. Five years later. They had tried to forget and lose every single imprint of the War. But this War could not and would not be erased from the minds of these people. They had lived and breathed the scent of destruction. It was because of this boy - this man - this hero who was their Savior that the War had “ended”. So when Harry Potter commanded his people to open their eyes, they would. And they did.
Hermione could not stop crying. Back then, she knew he didn't have to return to the Wizarding World. But he had returned for her and for the Wizarding World. She felt like her heart was bursting. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. Again, how could she have doubted it? She had been miserable when Harry had withdrawn from the Wizarding World. He had kept contact but she saw him rarely. So she had jumped at an opportunity to invite Harry to the hospital. And that day, for some reason, she had instructed Abby to sit in the guest lobby instead of the main lobby so that she could be closer to her mother's hospital room.
As the applause died down and Harry came back to his seat, Hermione reached over and hugged Harry. He stiffened in her embrace but eventually returned it. The hug lasted only for a few seconds but it seemed like eternity to our favorite couple. Yet the anger and the resentment soon returned. The magic lasted only a few seconds. But no doubt it left some lasting impressions on both Harry and Hermione.
Soon, Colin approached the podium again.
“Attention wizard and witches, I hate to cut this evening short but a warp is indeed moving in on us. I think everyone should head home before the situation begins. Do not apparate out of London. I repeat. Do not apparate out of London. Since we have to end this event now, volunteers from War Veterans will be flooing and visiting all of you to collect your generous donations. More information is being handed out at the exit. Thank you and good evening!”
“Good thing Ginny didn't come today! She would have had a hard time going home on the Knight Bus since she's pregnant and all but wait…”
“Hermione, do you want to stay with us tonight since you won't be able to apparate outside of London to your parents' house?” Luna asked.
“I don't know. If the warp continues, it will be hard to get to work from your house since you guys basically live on the other side of London and the Knight Bus will be too crowded in the morning.”
Ron looked at Harry furtively. Harry could house Hermione for the night, couldn't he? The hospital was just walking distance from Harry's - and once Hermione's - apartment.
Harry frowned back. All was still not right in Harmony land.
Hermione noticing Harry's and Ron's reactions suddenly realized what an awkward position she had put Harry in.
“You know what? The warp hasn't started yet. I could still apparate home now and take muggle transportation to work in the morning. So I guess I'll see you guys soon. Thanks for bringing me, Harry! Bye Fred! Bye George!” Hermione exclaimed quickly hugging everyone including Harry. She then turned to leave.
Harry seemed to be in a daze. He couldn't stop staring at Hermione's retreating figure.
“Harry? Harry? Yoo-hoo!! Harry!” Ron exclaimed. Harry quickly came out of his stupor and ran after Hermione.
He grabbed her wrist turning her around.
“What do you think you are doing?” he asked.
“Going home,” she said trying to remove her wrist from his grasp before she started crying again and did something really stupid like kiss him.
“Oh no, you're not. It's not safe. Call it my saving-people thing or whatever but it's better if you stay in London tonight. Okay?”
Would it be the worst thing if she did kiss him?
“Okay.”
(A/N): Long chapter. Drama ensues next. I'm finding it harder for Harry to be angry at Hermione… But they have to have their row! I'm really not sure what the response to this chapter will be. I think you learn a lot more background about Harry and Hermione on their road to becoming a couple…Wasn't Abby a nice touch? And I had to use a lot of magic in this chapter to create situations leading up to the row-fiasco. This was a difficult chapter to write so it took longer. I hope you like it!! Please, please review.
Once again I must thank all my anonymous reviewers, Bra4goten, LilytheSpitfire, cincoquatro, mushypeas, gingercat, izzieq, awaltzforanight, Particle_Accelerator, 101309, azi, autumnRose, Julesy, pottercrazy, Minnimione, Bimrin, CrimsonTemplar, Kiera, h/hr4ever, Tank03, lorel, NicholePotter86, HermionePotter726, rainbow star, passion fruit, mathiasgranger, harry_mione_love, Free28 and alayneni for your continual support! You guys are my drive and my inspiration!
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Chapter 6 - Do You Love Me?
He was staring at her. She was getting ready for bed. She moved from her old bedroom to the bathroom across the hall quickly. She didn't even have a change of clothes. She had removed herself so completely from their house six months ago. He had to give her his pajamas and t-shirt. It irked him beyond belief.
The magical warp had yet to begin so Harry felt the anticipation of the event and nothing else. He would be in complete agony a few hours from now.
Only the bare minimum of words had been exchanged between the two during their ride on the Knight Bus back from the War Veterans' charity event. They ate their dinner in silence barely looking at each other.
Something was going to happen tonight and it would change everything about their relationship.
He loved her once. She loved him now. But until they were on the same page, until they saw beyond those neatly-scripted words and into each other's souls, there would be no moving forward.
He tapped on the cold marble floor evenly and equally. His prey was coming his way.
“Harry, stop staring at me.”
“Why?”
“Because it's bothering me.”
“Why?”
“I don't like when you stare at me like that.”
“Why?”
“Harry, stop asking me why.”
The dark tones of the living room loyally depicted the dark mood of their master. Harry and Hermione could barely make out the contour of each other's faces. Yet Harry's green eyes shone brightly even amidst the lack of light.
She stood in front of him with her hands on her hips in his pajamas. The pants were a soft gray that clung to her curves. The t-shirt fit her well though it was a bit long. He hated seeing her in his pajamas. It taunted him with something he wanted and yet with something that he knew that was forbidden to him. Tendrils and wisps of curly brown hair had escaped her hair tie. The gaze of her warm brown eyes disconcerted him. Oh, would she ever be his after what she had done to him?
And boy did he want to make her angry.
“I want answers.”
She had felt this was going to happen. He was trying to provoke her. It was so Harry of him. Yet he would never move so low as to insult her. He was sitting on the beige sofa as she towered over him. Yet witnessing the intensity of his gaze left none to doubt who was the master of the conversation.
“I don't think I'm ready to give them to you.”
Harry leapt up, paced awhile, and then turned to face her.
“Hermione, if you don't give me any answers, I'm going to stop waiting for you.”
“You can't give me an ultimatum,” she whispered.
“Watch me.”
The words echoed through Hermione's mind and she started talking.
“I was afraid.”
She looked at him and he saw tears in her eyes.
“Don't you dare cry.”
“What?”
“You don't get to cry. You don't get to act like the victim each time we have a conversation. You left me. You hurt me. You were the one who reached for my heart and pulled it out of me when you went away. No, you definitely do not get to be the victim.”
Hermione sank to her feet against a wall staring at the sofa and the ground behind Harry.
“I didn't know you loved me.”
“I asked you to marry me.”
“And that's supposed to mean something,” she asked fiercely looking up at him in indignation.
“I asked you to be mine forever. Yes, that bloody means something.”
“Everyone said we were meant to be. I hated that. Predictable. There was no magic to it. We would be Harry and Hermione. You didn't even have to woo me. That's it, right? Harry and Hermione are perfect for each other. Let them get married. How did I know you didn't feel the same way? Do you know how it was supposed to be?”
Harry gritted his teeth and stared down at her. He ran a hand through his messy, short, black hair only leading it into a further state of disorganization. There was a minor hint of stubble on his chin.
“Well, let me tell you. We were supposed to secretly pine for each other. Hoping and yet to scared to admit we were in love with each other. We would have misunderstandings on the way but we would always make it up to each other. You would fervently deny to all of our friends that we were in love because you would be too tentative about my feelings. I would gossip with my girlfriends about you. About how much I love you. Then lightning would strike. And one day, you would arrive at my doorstep in the rain, seize me and kiss me and ravage me. So that mind, body and soul, I would be yours,” Hermione recited unflinchingly.
Harry blushed at the extent of Hermione's imaginings.
“You've read too many romance novels. Real life isn't like that.”
“Who says it isn't? We're still learning what real life is about. Just because we've known each other our whole lives doesn't mean that you're not obligated to court me.”
“Woo? Court? We are not in the Middle Ages. Did this come in a job description that I didn't read?”
“It's not funny.”
“I'm not laughing.”
“We've kissed less than a dozen times.”
“You never told me you loved me,” Harry finally said. Merlin, he hated how weak he sounded.
Hermione closed her eyes.
“I didn't realize it. I was just so mad at you because I though you were taking me for granted. I love you, Harry Potter. I have since you saved me from that troll in First Year. When I moved out six months ago, I didn't realize I was giving up the best thing in my life. I'm sorry I suck at these relationship things. And I'm sorry that you're just as bad at it as I am too. Forgive me,” she said laughing bitterly.
“That's it? You're supposed to say that and it's supposed to be alright? Merlin, you didn't even look at me when you said you loved me. You didn't even look at me when you asked my forgiveness. You can't even look at me.”
Hermione opened her eyes and stood up. She approached Harry and grasped his shoulders.
“Harry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm only asking for a second chance at us.”
“Don't be condescending.”
Harry moved out of Hermione's grasp and once again he occupied the sofa he had earlier. Hermione kneeled at his feet.
“I don't know you anymore. Hermione, we fought once together alongside each other in the War and I knew and I felt completely that you were the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with but now I not too sure anymore.
“Hermione, do you now how many times I've told myself that I hate you and that I'm bloody Harry Potter and I can have any girl that I want.”
“Harry…”
“But I can't escape you.
“Yet this doesn't mean that you get to enter my life again without a price. You know that once a person has disgraced themselves in my eyes that I am not quick to forgive. I'm going to protect my heart this time.”
“So what do you propose we do?” she asked wanting to hold his hand, touch him, hug him and kiss him.
“Start from the beginning,” he said taking a heaving breath and cocking his head to one side.
Tentatively, Hermione reached out a hand. Harry shook it.
“Hi, I'm Hermione Granger. Healer and Resident Idiot.”
“Harry Potter. Auror. Aspiring romantic.”
Hermione couldn't help smiling at that one.
Harry knew they had a long way to go. He never said he had forgiven her.
(A/N): What do you think? Am I doing a bad job? I really did have very few reviews last time. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint you too much.
So once again thanks to all of my anonymous reviewers, rainbow star, awaltzforanight, mushypeas, Julesy, Jester on Fire, Bra4goten, zam, alakazam, autumnRose, gingercat, harry_mione_love, CrimsonTemplar, Mrs. Felton, mathiasgranger, jennyberry_84, Kiera, NicholePotter86, Brimrin, MyUsedRomance, PrettyPrincessD, izzieq, Tank03, Minnimione, KataGrangerPotter, JordanLee, Hermy1, alayneni and debs.
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(A/N): I really can't choose a more appropriate song to begin this chapter. I also want to address something before you read the rest.
One constant criticism I have received while writing this story is that Hermione seems out of character. I understand the reasoning. However, I believe it is not implausible that a sensitive young woman would get caught in a world of fantasy. Indeed as readers of fanfiction do we not indulge ourselves in such a world too? I guess the moral of this story then serves as a warning to all of us. We must realize that though fantasy is based upon reality, fantasy speaks of an extreme.
This chapter is the real climax of the story. I hinted at it last chapter… Harry's going to be in agony… Ofcourse, I am not done torturing Harry and Hermione. They have scarred each other. Permanently or not that is for you to decide.
“Breathe”
“2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason.
There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.
2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to
But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.”
- Anna Nalick
Do You Love Me - Chapter 7
Hermione slept peacefully for most of the night. She and Harry were finally on the path of reconciliation after six months of not speaking to each other. He hadn't said that he had forgiven her but his words gave her far more hope than she had allowed herself. Aspiring romantic he had said. It made her heart soar and beat like the wings of a hummingbird.
It was great to sleep in her old bed. The sheets smell like Harry's favorite detergent. All of his clothes also had the same fragrance. It was these little things that made her miss the whole: Harry and THEIR house.
Then suddenly Hermione jerked awake. And from somewhere in the house a bloodcurdling scream erupted.
Hermione leapt of bed dragging all of her bed sheets with her. She almost tripped over them as she grasped for her wand on the bedside table in the dark.
Her wand was vibrating uncontrollably and glowing green. The magical warp had begun.
Untangling herself from her bed sheets, Hermione raced to Harry's bedroom.
Frantically, she twisted the doorknob. The sight before her shocked her to the core of her body.
Harry was thrashing around in his bed. A slight silver bubble enveloped him. Raw magical energy seemed to pulse his being. For a moment, years of Healer training left Hermione's mind. She stood there horrified. Blood rushed in her eyes and all she could hear was the drumming of her heart.
A scream from Harry forced her out of her stupor. She rushed to his side. She had to get the nervous energy in his body under control. She had read about this before. Dumbledore himself had suffered from this affliction after he had defeated Grindelwald in 1945. Harry's qi was out of balance. Harry's soul was slowly separating from his body. Dumbledore had carefully recorded his experiences and noted that this was a problem that developed after traversing the Veil in the Department of Mysteries.
Hermione tried to use her wand to regulate the various systems in Harry's body. Her wand however was useless in channeling any energy. It worked like a similar force in a magnet. If Hermione had not been gripping her wand so tightly, it would have flown to the other side of the room.
Hermione sat on the side of Harry's bed. She would have to use wandless magic.
Hermione pulled Harry's bed sheets over him as she tried to stop his seizures. She gripped both of his large hands in hers and started to massage his palms as she whispered ancient Latin incantations over him. She tried to stay calm so that she could channel the sentiment through his body.
She began to think of good and happy memories of herself and Harry. As the memories washed over her mind like the flowing of the tide at high noon, Hermione continued to evenly chant. She remembered the first time they tentatively kissed before Harry entered the Veil to defeat Tom Riddle. The beginning of their friendship when he and Ron saved her from the troll. His reaction when he first saw her at the Yule Ball. Neville's retelling of how Harry panicked when she was injured at the Department of Mysteries. The way she hadn't stopped smiling after Harry told her she wasn't ugly. The way his eyes lit up after she hugged him and told him to be careful before he faced Quirrell/Voldemort in First Year. The first time he asked her out at Ron & Luna's wedding. The time they moved in to Godric's Hollow. Graduation. And his proposal.
The smell of a full English breakfast wafted through the four corners of Godric's Hollow. She quickly got ready for work in record speed before floating towards the kitchen. Harry was the best cook EVER.
When she entered, Harry was sitting at the kitchen table spinning a circular object on the countertop. He was deep in thought. Suddenly, Harry tossed the object above his head reaching a hand to catch it. However he underestimated the distance it would travel and he consequently had to jump off his barstool in order to catch it.
He nearly topped her over as he caught the ring. The only thing that kept her from falling was the secure hand he placed on her waist.
Hermione laughed.
“Harry, I never thought I'd say this but `Mate, you need to play Quidditch more. Or all your Seeker ability will go to bullocks',” Hermione said mimicking Ron perfectly.
“I should have recorded that,” Harry said grinning cheekily.
“What were you playing with?” Hermione asked after giving Harry a peck on the cheek.
“Nothing,” said Harry gruffly stuffing whatever was in his hand into the pockets of his robes.
“Really?”
“Nothing. Nothing. Breakfast?” he asked removing his hand from her waist and moving towards the stove.
“Yes, please. So what do you have to do at work today?”
Harry generously put food on Hermione's plate.
“I'm hoping to saddle Ron with some paperwork.”
“Yeah? What did he do to royally piss you off?” Hermione asked as she unceremoniously stuffed bacon and eggs down.
“He took a bunch of time off after last week's mission.”
Hermione laughed and then quickly sobered.
“Harry, I was wondering… You know we haven't done anything in so long. Ron and Luna are always going to Quidditch games and everything and I thought maybe we should go out and do stuff too,” she said.
“We went to Charlie's birthday party the other day.”
“Harry, that doesn't count,” she said looking at him.
“Hmmm…”
He had propped his elbows on the countertop. His face was in his hands as he gazed at her for a long while.
“Harry, I don't know how to say this but I think -“ she said as she continued to stuff her mouth. This was so embarrassing for her. She couldn't even look at him as she said it. So she just ate more and more.
“Hermione…”
“I think we shoes bee moha ntic rds eech othah.”
“Hermione, you've got too much food in your mouth. I can't understand you.”
“Ood be neesh ib be kood bo to a bovie and do coplie uff”
“Hermione…”
“Yah?”
He gently reached across the table and removed the fork from her hand.
“Marry me?”
It took Hermione's entire English upbringing to stop her from spewing her food all over. So she grudgingly swallowed her food. Multiple times she coughed and she motioned for a glass of water.
Harry looked at Hermione slightly horrified. Maybe asking her when she was easting wasn't the best time to ask her. Yet the ring in his pocket was weighing on his mind heavily. It was best to just get it out of the way before he lost his guts to ask her.
Silently, Harry handed Hermione her glass of water.
When Hermione was finally set right, she asked, “Did you just propose me?”
“Look, I even bought a ring,” Harry said precariously pulling the ring out of his pocket and into her palm.
“Harry…” Did he have to propose to her like this? He just handed her ring. He just asked her to marry him. No declarations of love. He didn't even kneel down on one knee.
And then she looked at him. He looked so frazzled and eager. And he had such a goofy smile on his face.
So she said yes.
Slowly, his seizures stopped and the words of the charm died on her lips. Her wand still held its green glow though. The warp still continued.
She breathed a sigh of relief. She reached for the bottle of water next to Harry's bed and poured part of the contents of the bottle on a section she ripped of his bed sheets and started to dab the cool cloth on his forehead. Harry had broken into sweat.
She was surprised that Harry proposing was one of her favorite memories. But she knew something now that she didn't know then. That she shouldn't have had these stupid expectations of how he was supposed to propose to her. Harry was right. Her fantasies were just that. Fantasies. His proposal had been perfect because it had been just so Harry of him. She felt guilty that she had ever doubted the nature of his feelings and that she had allowed her insecurities to take over her. While she had considered the whole world looking in on to their relationship, Harry had only seen them - him and her. And now, he had every right to hate and to be angry with her. He had been nervous when he proposed to her. She should have understood that. How long did he carry that ring with him waiting for the right moment before he blurted it out? Harry was so sweet and so unaffected.
And now she was scared beyond belief.
“Harry, Harry, come on… Wake up,” Hermione whispered.
Harry started. He gasped for breath. He noticed the wet cloth on his forehead. He dazedly pushed it aside as he tried to sit up.
Hermione gently pushed him down.
“How long has this been happening?”
He groggily looked at her.
“Here, have some water,” she said as she handed him the remaining contents of the bottle.
He sat up a bit, drank the water and rested his head back upon his pillow.
“I'm not in for an interrogation session.”
“How long has this been happening?”
“Three months.”
“And you didn't bother to tell me.”
“Gee, I wonder how I would have done that. Hermione, I get sick during warps because I'm upset. Do come and console my pathetic self. Just so that you can reject me once more.”
“You're not pathetic and stop acting like a smartarse.”
“I'm sorry. That's your job,” Harry bitterly replied.
They angrily watched each other.
“How many times have I told you to try those bloody relaxation techniques?”
“I can't concentrate.”
Hermione's face contorted in pain. She had gone pale.
“If you don't learn how to concentrate, this is going to happen during every single warp. What if I wasn't here? What if you had died?” she finally spat.
“I've done fine on my own. I don't need you to feel sorry for me.”
“Don't' just assume… I thought we were going to start at the beginning…”
“You really thought it would be that easy? Don't be naïve, Hermione. Right now, I don't think I will ever be able to forgive you.”
He knew he was hurting her but he didn't care. He was hurting too. Physically. Emotionally. He knew the soul separation would occur again tonight. He forgot to put a Silencing Charm on his room though. He must have cried out during the worst part.
He was sweating and obviously in pain. Their verbal sparring would have to wait. His eyes were slightly unfocused. He wasn't wearing his glasses and his eyes were even more green and piercing.
She hated seeing him like this.
“I want you to go away,” he whispered.
“Harry James Potter, don't you dare. I know what you're doing and it's not going to work.”
He was giving her an opening to leave him. This time if she did, she would never see him again and there would never me a them - him and her together.
He could feel a splitting headache coming on.
“Promise me you'll try.”
He didn't reply.
“I'll go and get you a Sleeping Draught,” she finally said about to stand up.
And unconsciously he caught her hand. No words were exchanged between them. She didn't sleep. She stayed with him through the night. In the morning, the warp ended. Hermione finally left Harry's bedside to make breakfast.
She stopped at the bathroom and went in. Whispering a Silencing Charm, she looked at herself in the mirror and gripped the edge of the sink. She hated the girl who looked back at her and who had brought herself to such a state. And she closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel tired. Her grip loosened. And in her mind pages those neatly-contrived romance novels leapt up in flames. The poetry of the words of love were drowned out by the cackle of flames. The ashes seemed acidic and bitter. Yet she was at peace. And slowly as she opened her eyes, she imagined the turning of new, green leaves. Slowly. One by one. Everlasting spring had come.
(A/N): You reviews always leave me in emotional turmoil. Writing Hermione in this story has been a very revealing experience. I know many of you find Hermione's behavior unforgivable. But now I ask you to feel for her. Girls are stupid. Girls make mistakes. And Hermione's willing to make up for it. When Harry screams, she runs to his side like she always has and she stays with him. Protecting him. Loving him. Understanding him. His agony is hers. And though Harry tries to hide it, her agony is his. This chapter is dedicated to all those who have ever hurt someone they loved and then sought their forgiveness.
I am sure you guys have lots to say about this chapter. I also know that sharp objects and tomatoes are going to be thrown at me because Hermione is still OOC… And the plot is dwindling… And you hate me for torturing our favorite couple… I need to shut up already…
So once again to my pack of loyal, anonymous reviewers, mathiasgranger, izzieq, alakazam, summerscent, Julesy, kasmira36, mike, ivy, mushypeas, Luni, alayneni, NicholePotter86, Kiera, Mischiefmanaged86, Jester on Fire, gingercat, Sara, tiger111991, LilytheSpitfire, Francis, awaltzforanight, harry_mione_love, Xaviel, Jill and azi.
You guys make my day. Believe me, you can definitely depend on me to frantically refresh my reviews page every two seconds…
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Why Can't I - Liz Phair
“Get a load of me, get a load of you
Walkin' down the street, and I hardly know you
It's just like we were meant to be
Holding hands with you when we're out at night
Got a girlfriend, you say it isn't right
And I've got someone waiting too
What if this is just the beginning
We're already wet, and we're gonna go swimming
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Isn't this the best part of breakin' up
Finding someone else you can't get enough of
Someone who wants to be with you too
It's an itch we know we are gonna scratch
Gonna take a while for this egg to hatch
But wouldn't it be beautiful.”
(A/N): In my defense, I was listening to major kissy music while writing this chapter (i.e. Why Can't I by Liz Phair).
Do You Love Me - Chapter 8
Waking up in the morning was an experience for Harry Potter. His head hadn't hurt so much in a long, long time. He felt nauseous and dizzy even though he hadn't moved a single muscle. Slowly, Harry turned his head and made out an outline of a figure with bushy bobs of brown, frizzy hair. Harry tried reaching for his glasses. Before they reached the side table, they were swiftly handed to him.
Harry put his glasses on.
Hermione had magically imported one of the sofas from the living room into his bedroom. She was sitting on it having propped her feet on a nearby chair. Open files showed sheets of paper neatly arranged into piles. A medical dictionary lay abandoned on Hermione's lap. She was anxiously looking at him. He knew the look. It was a bit too familiar to him.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
He grunted.
“I thought you might be feeling slightly iffy. I didn't bring any food in just in case you might want to empty the contents of your stomach. There's a bucket near the bed by the way.”
He glumly nodded.
“Right. Well. I got you off work. Called Remus.”
Harry concentrated on a part of the wall behind Hermione's head. He put his weight on adjacent pillows and tried to sit up. Hermione was on her feet in a second. The medical dictionary dropped on the floor. He felt Hermione help him support his body against the headrest of his bed. Numbly, he swung his legs off the bed. Hermione fettered over him like a mother hen as he tried to get out of bed. Gently, Harry brushed Hermione's hands off him.
“Hermes, I can do this,” he mumbled.
He stood up and slowly made his way to the bathroom. He didn't bring his wand or use wandless magic. His magic always turned wacky after warps.
Hermione watched Harry. She cocked her head to one side and eyed him quizzically. She felt herself analyzing the situation and quickly stopped herself. She picked up the book on the floor and moved to the kitchen. Breakfast!
In the bathroom, Harry turned on the shower full-speed as he leaned on the nearby walls. His breathing painfully slowed. He let the hot drops of water glaze his tired body.
He finally let the events of the last night register. The warp had begun. It had been the worse one yet. He shouldn't have had that confrontation with Hermione just before it. It left him weak and unable to protect himself. His soul had nearly split from his body. The thought made him grip the sides of the shower harder.
Hermione had saved him. She had risked her life… She had saved him. She had saved him. She had saved him.
Harry turned the knob of the tap. Harry braced himself as the water began to scald his skin.
An hour later, Harry emerged from the bathroom fresh and clean.
He had an itch. An itch he desperately need to scratch. He didn't care anymore. He wanted her. Damn the repercussions!
She was sitting on the high bar stool completing her usual weekday crossword puzzle when he entered. She turned to him…
“Harry, we might have to go grocery shopping… If you're up to it… All my medical notes said you would recover quickly… and you do look much better, Har-”
And he kissed her. Their lips met without apology in a gentle embrace. She melted against him. A jolt of warm, thunderous electricity shot throw their bodies. Finally, they broke apart and gasped for air. Hermione rested her forehead against Harry's. Harry grinned boyishly and then started outright laughing. And despite every single intuition in her body, suddenly, Hermione found herself dissolving into giggles.
Yet deep inside herself, Hermione felt confused. Was this too fast? Too quick? Six months and it all came down to this. This kiss. And what was this about? Why did he?
Harry. He was so shocked at himself. When it came to girls, Harry Potter never took the first step. And when he did, it was too hesitant. Maybe that's why he got screwed over so many times. But was this too quick? Too soon? Too fast?
When the nervous energy left them, Hermione smiled at Harry suddenly feeling shy. Surprisingly, she could hear her wise mother's advice clearly ringing in her own ears. She was rubbish at this relationship bit but she would not let this pass. They would not let this pass.
Harry sat on the barstool next to Hermione and leaned his forehead back on hers taking her hands in his.
“Kind of soon?” she said.
“Understatement. Why are we such idiots?” Harry asked gently knocking his head against hers.
“Why?” she asked. He knew exactly what she meant.
Harry closed his eyes while replying.
“I was just glad that you were there last night.”
“I reckon you're still mad at me though… I would be…”
This was so confusing for them. They were young. They were in love. But could wrongs meant to be forgotten be truly forgotten? Could a young man swallow his pride and his ego and admit love again? Could she - the young woman - move on and more importantly forgive herself?
Slowly, Harry withdrew his hands from hers and looked at Hermione.
She looked at him.
Oh, the emotions than ran over their bodies… The thoughts that traveled through their minds…
“Hermione…”
“Yes, Harry”
“Can we go grocery shopping?”
(A/N): Notice Harry and Hermione don't really talk a lot in this chapter… Now, what could that mean??? And what should I do? The evil author that I am? Fluff or gruff? Fight or all right? (Hey, atleast I tried some rhyming!) Next chapter is all about the repercussions… with guest appearances from Mrs. Granger, and even sodding Angela Millstone…. And an introduction of a new character…
Anyway, let the games *cough*flames*cough* begin!
*author weeps in the background as she is flamed*
Much thanks to all my anonymous reviewers, lorel, mathiasgranger, gattaca, mushypeas, MarenKPotter, harry_mione_love, Bra4goten, mike(!), ivy, tiger111991, oneiros lykos, izzieq (who I know for certain will flame me this chapter), azi, kasmira36, gingercat, kasmira36, jenny, debs, Dylan, Luni, Julesy (thanks for the song recommendation), alakazam (promise longer chapter next time), Jester on Fire, alayneni, MrsGordo (you made my day with your review!), NicholePotter86, Rayclash, MyUsedRomance, Jill, Harryluver05, Justlikemione, Kiera, summerscent, toga party, mischiefmanaged86, Tank03, CrimsonTemplar, Fia, & Minnimione. I love you guys!!! You're the best critics and most awesome reviewers a girl could have!
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(A/N): My Beloved Readers,
No, Harry and Hermione did not fight in the cabbage aisle of the grocery store. I like to think they are more refined than that. They are more likely to throw potatoes at each other. Anyway, there really isn't much of a grocery scene but I don't think you'll be disappointed by this chapter. I like to think that I can handle some pretty serious issues in this story. Hopefully, I succeeded this chapter.
Do You Love Me - Chapter 9
Everything was so awkward between them. For one glorious moment when they had kissed, it had seemed as if every would be fine again. They would really start over. How foolish! How silly!
Grocery-shopping was some sad pretense. Hermione wished there was a guide book on how to deal with life. They had even avoided touching each other. They wordlessly handed each other items from the shelves of the Muggle grocery store. It was literally just too dangerous for either of them to casually walk into Diagon Alley. They would be easily mobbed.
Harry hated his impulsiveness. Perhaps it was better to keep that trait of his personality out of this relationship business.
Not to mention that she was wearing that silly periwinkle dress from last night. She needed to clear her head and change her clothes… So the moment Harry had paid the grocery bill, Hermione turned towards him, gave him a weak pat on the shoulder and told him she was going home. He nodded.
Soon, Hermione apparated home to her parents. She found her mother in the living room and sat down next to her mother. Her mother was reading a novel.
When Mrs. Granger saw her daughter, she carefully marked the page she was reading and took off her reading classes. This did not look good.
“Hermione, what happened?”
As if waiting for a cue, Hermione moved and rested her head on her mother's lap.
“Mum.”
“Hmmm…”
“We kissed.”
Mrs. Granger shifted uncomfortably.
“And?”
“We couldn't even look at each other afterwards.”
Mrs. Granger sighed.
“Did you talk?”
“Before the kiss. We were going to work things out but he said it would be hard to forgive me after what happened. Then there was another warp episode last night. And he kissed me in the morning.”
Mrs. Granger stroked her daughter's hair. Hermione never really told her much of what occurred in the Wizarding World. It was always like the witch Hermione was a completely different person from her daughter. When it came to magical happenings, Mrs. Granger would never have known anything had it not been for the Daily Prophet. She regularly subscribed to it. This is how she discovered Hermione's role in the War. Although the Daily Prophet's reporting of the War was largely erroneous, there was always a fabric of truth that tuned her into her daughter's world.
Eventually, Mrs. Granger had become an expert at piecing her daughter's life from the fragments of information she received. The only time Hermione had been completely honest to her mother was when she had arrived one night near the War at her parents' house.
Someone had been incessantly knocking on the door. Mrs. Granger hurried to open it. Her husband followed in her footsteps.
Mrs. Granger gasped when she saw her daughter seemingly accompanied by a tall stranger.
“Hermione, you're supposed to be at school.”
Hermione grasped her mother's hands. A sense of urgency accompanied her touch.
“Mum, we don't have much time. You need to bundle up a few essentials and get ready in an hour to go to a safe house with a few friends of Harry and mine, ok?” Hermione said finally acknowledging the man - the once young boy - behind her.
Fear suddenly gripped Mrs. Granger. Mr. Granger stood behind his wife laying a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder.
“Hermione, what's going on? Is it that Voldemort chap again?” he authoritatively asked.
Mr. Granger was a medium-sized man with a moustache and graying hair. He was thin and slightly taller than his wife. He had a cheery disposition but right now his face was marred with a frown. He was too Muggle. Hermione admired her father's easiness in saying Voldemort's name. To them, Voldemort was a petty criminal not a sorcerer capable of shifting the balance of the Earth.
Hermione panicked. They didn't have time. How long could it possibly take for the Death Eaters to locate her parents? A day? Half a day? Three hours? The Order only had one tactical advantage. The Death Eaters were all too pureblood to figure out that all they had to do was look in a telephone directory to figure out where Mr. and Mrs. Granger lived. But how long would it take for them to get the information through other means? Thank god Tonks had alerted them to the possibility that Voldemort was planning on some attack on Hermione. Hermione's thoughts had immediately gone to her parents. They needed to be safe.
“I don't know how to explain this…We should be moving… Oh my god, they could be here any second.”
“Hermione, we are not moving until we have an explanation, young lady,” Mr. Granger said.
Harry who had stayed mostly in the shadows listening to Hermione explain the situation to her parents finally decided to intervene. Hermione was his stronghold. She was never this frazzled.
Intuitively squeezing Hermione's shoulder, Harry moved forward.
“Mr. and Mrs. Granger. I don't know if you remember me but I'm Harry. Hermione is my best friend and I don't know how much she has told you about Voldemort but I have been trying to fight him this whole year. The whole Wizarding World is in the process of kil- destroy, no - elimina - yes, eliminating him. There's no other way to put it. But some of our intelligence has just informed us that you could potentially be at risk from Voldemort's henchmen. We need to ensure your safety.”
Mrs. Granger stood still as she heard Harry's explanation. Her worst fears had been realized. She was not under the same impressions like her husband. She understood who Voldemort was. How could she have read the Daily Prophet without figuring it out? This man - this creature - was so terrible, so evil that even his own people feared calling him. You-Know-Who. She understood and she feared for her daughter's safety.
Mr. Granger was a man of few words. He nodded accepting Harry's explanation. His daughter's world was still strange and new to him even after seven years. But it existed. It undeniably existed. As a man of science, he could not deny what he saw.
“Jane, come on. Move. Pack. Go with Hermione,” Mr. Granger said nudging his wife. Quickly, Hermione grabbed her mother's hand.
As they ran up the stairs to the bedroom upstairs, Mrs. Granger noticed subtle changes in her daughter. Hermione wore her hair differently. She had become more womanly and curvy. And in her daughter's expression, amid the panic and the fear, she could see the need for fulfillment. Her daughter had become a woman.
Hermione barreled into her parent's bedroom, opened the cupboards and began sorting through the clothes. Mrs. Granger stopped her daughter's frantic actions and looked into her daughter's pooling eyes.
Throughout the ordeal, Hermione had not let herself breakdown for Harry's sake but in front of her mother, it didn't matter. She stood in her mother's embrace and cried.
“Duck, it's going to be okay… it's going to be okay… You're going to survive this… We're going to survive this…” Mrs. Granger said using her daughter's pet name.
They stood like this for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Hermione voiced something that had plagued her conscious.
“What about Harry?” Hermione sobbed.
“He's going to survive this too.”
Hermione took a deep breath and started to search for a duffel bag in her parents' belongings.
“Voldemort separated his soul into pieces, Mum. We've found almost all of them but it's taking its toll on everyone. Charlie and Mr. Weasley are dead,” Hermione numbly said as she found the duffle bag and dumped every single item she could get her hands on.
“And Harry's been amazing through this, Mum. He has bore this burden…It's got to be either him or Voldemort. Do you understand that? Do you understand it?” Hermione said fiercely gripping her mother's hand.
Mrs. Granger did not know how to respond. After grapping some toiletries, Hermione zipped the bag up and sat on the bed.
“I don't. Mum… I think I'm in - in - love with him ” Hermione said hesitatingly grapping bunches of her hair in her hands.
Slowly, Mrs. Granger pried her daughter's hands out of her hair and shushed her.
“Hermione, look at me. Look at me.” Mrs. Granger said severely.
Hermione stared at her mother.
“Don't ever feel ashamed of what you're feeling. He is going to get through this… And you're going to be there.”
“Mum, I want to pick him up each time he falls. I can't bear when he's hurt. If something happens to him, I don't know what I will do…”
“Believe in him. I could choose no man worthier of my daughter. Come on, we have to go downstairs.”
And with that, the temporary sense of complacency was replaced once more by urgency.
When the two women went back downstairs, they found Mr. Granger shaking Harry's hand. Tonks and Remus had arrived to take Hermione's parents to a safe house. Hermione hugged her mother and father one last time long and hard. Mrs. Granger sent up a silent prayer that she would be able to see her daughter again.
“Mum?”
“Hmmm…”
“Are you okay?”
“Duck, sit up a bit,” Mrs. Granger said sitting upright herself and gently pushing Hermione into a sitting position.
“Do you remember the time we had to go to the safe house during the War?”
Hermione nodded solemnly.
“And you survived. Harry survived. I think the last six months have been utter folly on your and Harry's part. You need to swallow your pride and fight for this relationship.”
“It just seems so impossible though. How do we move on? We've hurt each other so many times…”
“Which relationship doesn't have its ups and downs? Which couple doesn't fight? He's so hurt but he took the first step. He kissed you. The ball's in your court. You just have to make it up to him. It's the little things that count.”
Hermione laughed and hugged her mother.
“Thanks for the advice, mum. You're the best,” Hermione said.
Mrs. Granger stood up.
“I'm going to make some sugar-free cookies. Want some?”
“Yeah. I'm going to go and change in a second. I just want to see what you're reading,” Hermione said picking up the book had left on the side.
“And Hermione?”
“Yes, mum.”
Hermione looked at her mother expectantly.
“Don't screw up,” Mrs. Granger said tapping her daughter on the head gently cautioning her.
Hermione smiled.
After showering and eating some of her mother's cookies, Hermione decided to try and tuck in early. Unwittingly, her mother had made her remember a whole pandora of memories she had tried to suppress since the War. She recalled that particular night. The thought that Voldemort could reach her parents - the only sense of normalcy left in her life - had scared her beyond belief.
She let her mind drift. Slowly, she remembered an incident a few nights after her parents had been taken to a safe house.
Hermione knew that Harry and Ron were exchanging worried glances from where they were sitting. She was reading a few remnants of letters that Dumbledore had sent to Professor McGonagall after he had defeated the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945. Professor McGonagall had similarly passed on many of Dumbledore's belongings in hopes that the Trio would be able to find clues as to where the Horcruxes were hidden.
It was indeed a strange change in the dynamic of the Trio. Usually, Harry would stay brooding as Ron and Hermione wondered how they could best console him. They must be really worried about her.
Ron coughed. Hermione looked up. Harry cleared his throat. Before he could say anything, Ron stood up.
“Right. I'm off to bed. Cheerio!”
Ron could not have exited the cozy living room in the abandoned hut they had secured for the Horcrux Hunt fast enough.
“Cheerio?” Hermione said laughing.
“Cheerio!” Harry said mimicking Ron.
Hermione sighed rubbing the sides of her face restlessly.
“Hermione, do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” she said giving him a halfhearted smile.
Harry understood her reluctance to talk.
A few minutes passed in silence.
Hermione moved from across the room and sat next to Harry. She had finished the last of the letters. She placed her head on Harry's shoulder as they both gazed into the fireplace. Harry placed his arm around Hermione as she leaned into him.
“I found something really interesting,” she said.
“What's that?”
“Harry, did you ever think of what would happen after the War?”
Harry bitterly laughed.
Hermione hit him roughly across the chest. Harry just tended to be cynical despite Hermione's many admonitions.
“No, I haven't.”
She turned to him rifling through Dumbledore's letters.
“There aren't any clues in these letters. But Dumbledore took some time off after defeating Grindelwald. He was emotionally unbalanced and he experienced this strange phenomenon,” Hermione said pinpointing certain sections of the various letters.
Harry read the information Hermione offered him.
“Body-soul separation? Isn't that like a Horcrux?”
“Actually no. Horcruxes deal with soul splitting. What Dumbledore suffered was much different. Didn't you ever wonder how Dumbledore always seemed so calm?”
Harry nodded.
“Well, it's these relaxation techniques that Dumbledore used. Right after the defeat in 1945, magical warps occurred that threatened certain limits of time and space. This was attributed to the downfall of Grindelwald who was one of the most powerful wizards in magical history. Somehow during the final battle between Grindelwald and Dumbledore, their magic became attached. When Dumbledore experienced any desperate emotions such as sadness, sorrow, fear or terror, warps began. In order to stop the warps and the body-soul separation, Dumbledore had to learn how to control all these emotions raging through his body.”
“Warps? What are they?”
“Well, actually, warps are basically a product of magical imbalances. Wizards and witches cannot apparate or use a lot of magic during a warp because it might result in body-soul separation. Dumbledore, however, who was deeply connected with the magical equilibrium having defeated Grindelwald did not have to go apparate to go through body-soul separation.”
“Really? I mean then all these magical warps were all just a result of how Dumbledore was feeling?” Harry said propping his shoulder on the sofa rest.
“See, that's when this all gets a bit too muddy. You can't just attribute warps to Dumbledore's emotions. According to Dumbledore, it's sort of his imbalance of emotions is like the last straw. Let me draw this analogy. The wood and petroleum are already there. It just takes a lit match to start the fire. The conditions for a warp exist. Dumbledore's extreme emotions just bring the warp to fruition. Plus there were random incidences of warps that occurred even after Dumbledore had mastered those relaxation techniques. So it's not all about Dumbledore's emotions even though that's a factor.”
“This seems a bit surreal. I could not imagine just one individual's emotions putting so many people at risk,” Harry said quirking his eyebrows.
“But warps aren't dangerous. They really aren't. Temporarily not using magic is an inconvenience. It just makes the Wizarding community actually use manual labor.”
Harry laughed.
“Wait… so what does this have to do with anything?” Harry asked the longwinded Hermione.
“If I'm not completely off my rocker, you might go through a similar situation after you defeat Voldemort.”
“Fat chance of that…” Harry said finally his curiosity satiated.
“STOP IT!” Hermione shouted standing up and facing Harry. The letters that had been on Hermione's lap fell on the floor in a flurry of paper.
“Hermione…” Harry said shocked at her reaction.
“Don't be so casual about it. Don't just brush it off. You are going to survive this. You are going to do this. I will not let you give up after coming so far,” Hermione said fiercely staring at Harry.
Harry stood up watching her.
“I swear Harry James Potter that if you abandon us and you die, I will never forgive you,” Hermione continued in a low whisper.
Harry stretched his arms inviting Hermione in for a hug. She came to him.
“I would rather not die than risk the wrath of a madwoman like you, Hermes,” Harry whispered eliciting a sharp slap from Hermione to his side.
Hermione found herself chuckling into her bedcovers despite the serious content of the memory. Tears had already made their way down her cheeks.
And so, Hermione entered a night of fitful sleep.
In the morning, Hermione woke up early and stuffed some of her mother's sugar free cookies into a confetti bag. Apparating into Godric's Hollow, Hermione left the cookies with the following note:
“My mum's cookies. I know how much you love them. She made the batch last night. By the way, I'm guessing that you have Quidditch practice with Ron and the team the whole of this month in preparation for the Ministry's Annual Quidditch games but I was still wondering if you wanted to come and see a play with me at West End next Saturday? Love, Hermione.”
It's the small things that count.
The next moment Hermione was striding through the halls of St. Mungo's on the way to the Chief of Spell Damage's office. Unexpectedly, Hermione found Angela Millstone waiting there. Curtly nodding to the woman, Hermione smiled when the Chief motioned for both of them to enter. However, Hermione's good mood did not last very long though. Unfortunately, she and Angela were going to be working on a tough case together.
(A/N): A lot of very significant things happen in this chapter. I tie up a bunch of loose ends. I have a splitting headache but I think this chapter was absolutely worth it. Any comments, questions, and ofcourse complaints? Please review, pretty please with a cherry on the top? For your dear author whose head is bursting into two… Now I realize how Harry felt after that terrible warp…
And mike, I know you hate my story. I get it. But I am trying my best and I hope the rest of you see that.
Much thanks to all my anonymous reviewers, tiger111991, kasmira36, Dylan, mike, alakazam, NicholePotter86, mushypeas, roadkill2105, timeturner02, margie19142, Julesy, gattaca, Sara, Bra4goten, CrimsonTemplar, gingercat, MarenKPotter, harry_mione_love, toga party, missmonet, MyUsedRomance, Kiera and Jane99. <333
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