Here, There, and Everywhere
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
AN: Here it is a VERY short chapter (almost an in-between/interlude chapter) but at least it was a fast update, huh? ^.^ I hope you like it.
Chapter 06: Open wounds
Muriel Reisor wasn't happy. The last two weeks hadn't been what she would call happy ones. Actually, they were more like two long and insufferable ones.
And she didn't need to think too hard to realize the reason.
Hermione Granger.
Ever since the return of Granger, Muriel's life had become- difficult.
Even more difficult than it had been to turn herself into Harry Potter's blond girlfriend.
She knew Harry and Granger had had some sort of strong friendship during their time at Hogwarts and then during and soon after the second war. He hardly talked about those times, though, especially the period after the war. Some would say it was a kind of wound, the horrors of the battle, but Muriel disagreed deep inside. There was something else.
Obviously it wasn't a matter of simply asking him, of demanding answers. She was too smart for that. It would be better to continue being the naïve girlfriend.
And being the naïve girlfriend, unfortunately, meant being blind to Harry's sudden moodiness.
She just didn't know if it was a good thing yet. However, something seemed clear as crystal to her. And maybe to everyone else who dared to pay attention.
"Ah, Harry Potter," she said looking at her reflection in the mirror in front of her, her hands running through her naturally dark hair. "So brave, and so stupid."
**
Oblivious to the movement around him, Harry Potter stood in front of Hermione's cubicle silently, wondering if he should enter.
He could still remember his evil pleasure of having his arms wrapped around Muriel, making it clear to Hermione what he had been doing- and then- and then saying that word. Such a simple and poisonous word.
Partner.
If he only could take it back. However, there aren't 'take backs'. It was already done, already said.
And the way, the sad and sorrowful way she had looked at him- a mixture of surprise and deception.
How she had tried to fight the tears with some dignity.
Almost the same way she had look back at him all those years ago.
"I'm back with Ginny," he had said.
Two months later she and Ron had begun to date.
Harry sighed. All that was in the past- it didn't matter anymore.
Everything had changed.
Or maybe not.
He wondered why everything had to be so difficult, so extremely hard. It would be so easy if he just could forget and move on.
"Harry," Hermione had said as soon as they met each other the day after she had come to his apartment, "I'm tired and I'm only saying this one time. Because, really, I don't think I really care anymore. First, I'm sorry for not telling you about me and Charlie. It was a mistake. I can see that now- Yes, I had my reasons and-" She smiled sadly. "maybe, deep inside you know what my reasons were, but that's not important. You already made it clear that you didn't want to hear. It's your right."
"Hermione-"
"Please, let me finish." He nodded. "Secondly, about the Auror Partnership, I couldn't say anything to you. Kingsley wouldn't let me. The only person who knew about this, besides me and Kingsley, was Charlie. I'm sorry if you felt betrayed.
"Hermione, I-"
"So," she continued as if she hadn't heard him, "I only hope that these misunderstandings don't affect our frien- partnership."
And she walked away without waiting for a reply.
Harry shook his head, trying to erase those thoughts. He glanced again at the cubicle door but decided against it.
Perhaps all of that had been for the greater good.
And maybe she had been right; maybe he already knew her reasons.
Harry just didn't want to hear them.
He had spent years just pretending to believe. Pretending to believe in the surface motives.
****
Somewhere
"We have to do something about the Mudblood's return!" an angry voice hissed. "I want to know why no one told me she would be returning to Britain!"
"No one knew about it, uncle. She just showed up," a second voice explained. "I think it was some kind of hidden transition. Potter didn't know either, and I can tell he isn't happy."
"Do you think it will be a problem?" a third voice asked. "She is just a Mudblood!"
The man held up a hand. "Don't underestimate your enemies, Avery! Your father never did. Granger is a brilliant witch. We can't be blind and deny it. And she, back in Britain, isn't a very good thing for our business." The man scratched his chin, considering something. "You said Potter wasn't exactly happy."
"No, on the contrary, I think it has something to do with the fact she is engaged to Charlie Weasley," the young man said in a bored tone. "The stupid hero is fucking Muriel but still seems to be jealous, or something, of the Mudblood."
"Jealous you say?"
"I don't know. I just know-" he snorted- "actually everybody knows in that damn Ministry that something happened. I'm just assuming."
"Hm... " A devious smile spread across his lips. "Perhaps her presence can be used in our favor." The man smiled in disdain. "The Dark Lord once said she was an important person in Potter's life. Probably the most important one."
"What to do then, uncle? Kill her?"
The dark wizard dismissed them, his hand brushing the air, a slight smirk on his thin lips. "Her?" he repeated almost to himself.
***
At Night
The Burrow
Charlie Weasley smiled at his and Hermione's photograph on his nightstand. It was taken two month earlier near her apartment in Hungary. They looked happy.
She looked happy with her curly brown hair blowing in the wind, a genuine smile on her lips. She was laughing at something he had said in her ear; his arms wrapped around her waist from behind.
"What had happened?" he wondered aloud.
He loved her more than anything in his life, more than he had even expected to. And he knew she loved him too. Maybe not in the same way- the passionate and almost desperate way, but she had been always more cool, quiet when it came to her feelings.
Yes, Hermione had changed since she had come to Hungary for the first time. She seemed to be stronger, more sure of herself.
But now, in these two weeks back in Britain...
Charlie didn't want to pry about what had happened. He could act as if it was just because she hadn't told Harry about them.
However, he couldn't just pretend stupidity.
There was something else.
Heaving a deep sigh, Charlie ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't continue to see her dying inside day after day; he couldn't bear to hold her while she quietly cried every night.
He had to do something.
He was going to have a talk with Harry Potter.