The house lay desolate before her, empty and seemingly devoid of all life. As she crept to the end of the long narrow staircase placing a wary hand on the ornate balustrade she winced at the creak of the ancient floorboards. The wallpaper still peeled as if someone had tried to viciously rip it from the walls. Dust swirled and spun in the darkness before her. Here it was, the entry hallway to 12 Grimmauld Place, as it had been when she first laid eyes on it as a fifteen year old girl.
Her eyes darted to the imposing door which led to the dining room but it remained shut. After a brief glimpse into the underground kitchen she guessed he must have moved upstairs into the remainder of the house. She again cursed the old timber as the staircase screeched and groaned every time her foot found the next step. She wanted to call out his name although her voice seemed lost against the thousands of memories that this house held.
She passed by the room she had once occupied with Ginny on first coming to the house and continued onto the second landing. It was then she heard the unmistakeable noise of someone shuffling papers, the sound coming from the floor above her and she began the ascent to the next level of the house, calmly and quietly but deep down not knowing why she was there. Part of her felt like this battle was already lost; he had been shunning everyone who had come to the house in the past two weeks since his minor breakdown when she had last been here. Ron had even mentioned an incident where he had flung the umbrella stand from the entry hallway at Tonks who had accompanied him to the house.
This was perhaps the first time someone had visited him alone she thought reaching the third landing of the house. The gas lamps were so dimly lit that they seemed to cast more shadow than light and she couldn't make out the words on the door closing off the room the noise was emanating from. But she already knew what room it was having spent so many days tucked away in the house's library. Placing a hand on the door she gently nudged it forward and listened intently as the door sighed on its hinges.
Harry was sitting on the floor, hunched over a large tome that he seemed to be speed-reading through, with his back against the shelves behind him. His fingers flicked the pages past one-by-one, it was clear he wasn't actually reading but searching for something. More books lay around him, three even hovered at his feet like pups vying for the attention of their mother.
Although he seemed weary and somewhat drained he appeared healthy in every other aspect. He had evidently washed and no longer wore a scraggly beard. She felt she could see life in him again, his eyes burning as they constantly zoomed across the pages. He shifted and slowly his eyes found hers causing her brain to shut down and her mind to throw her back into her memories.
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She wrenched open the first door she came across and disappeared into the classroom beyond. She held onto one of the desks for support, closing her eyes against the emotions rushing through her body. She didn't want to face it anymore, all the looks he gave her, all the subtlety he kept just for her and those stupid idiotic encouragements she received from the Weasleys every time she visited the Burrow.
He was being kind and supportive one minute and then a total jerk the next, insulting her and being purposefully reckless. And this was what she told herself she had to look forward to, Ron Weasley, Gryffindor's bloody Quidditch saviour. It was a joke, the whole game was a joke. One minute your team is having a great game absolutely massacring the opponent but if the Seeker catches the snitch it's all over in a matter of seconds.
And there he was, basking like the glory-hound he was acting as if he was the sole winner of that game. What about everyone else, Ron? Did he ever think about the other people in his life? All he ever wants is for the right people to look at him she thought morosely. She did not care if she was being unfair, she knew him long enough to allow herself to think bad thoughts about him.
The silence of the castle was deafening to her ears and she summoned a flock of birds that filled the room with their twittering and song. Their happiness shrouded the room's despair. She was so worried; the year had been far too quiet so far compared to other years in Hogwarts. Harry had been on constant alert since returning; repeatedly doubting Malfoy, and what had she done? Just moped about acting like the rest of the dunderheads in her dorm, crying and whining over boys? But she couldn't help it if their actions had inspired hope in her heart, if for the first time she felt someone had noticed her for who she really was but then to have all her hopes dashed by some swooning brunette and hot-headed red head.
There were footsteps outside the door and she snapped her head up to see Harry tentatively step into the room. For a boy who had grown up in a cupboard with an emotionally stunted family the dispirited yet concerned look on his face told her he understood everything. Wordlessly he crossed the room and joined her on the desk eyeing the birds on his way. He stayed silent peering into every shadow of the room as if waiting for someone to leap out at them.
"Ron's enjoying the celebrations," she spat derisively. Her voice sounded brittle though and she couldn't hide the fact that it was laced in tears.
"There's nothing wrong with liking him Hermione. So he's a bit...immature," he said fishing around for the right word, "but he's a good guy...he's loyal."
"How can you say that after fourth year? He basically abandoned you when you needed him most," she pointed out, wiping away the fresh tears the memory sparked.
"It was just down to...him being younger," he replied but she could tell he was trying to come up with excuses, he himself didn't know why Ron acted the way he did last year but guessed it was mainly driven by his constant envy and jealousy. "But he'd never do it again...I know he wouldn't."
She refused to argue with him now, she could have sat in that classroom all night and fought with him when she realised how long it had been since she had sat anywhere alone with Harry. He seemed to have taken to avoiding them this year and she now understood his reasons for doing so. Who would want to hang around two people who constantly bickered? Who would want to hang around with a girl who constantly cried after bickering?
"Are you okay?" he asked after the lengthy silence had nearly engulfed the room except for the joyful sound of the birds.
"Yeah," she answered quietly. "Sorry for the whole..." she indicated her flushed cheeks and red puffy eyes. She knew he thought it a ludicrous idea that Hermione Granger would sob over a boy yet here she was trying to regain her composure after just doing so. In spite of this he never once mentioned that he thought her actions were pathetic or taunted her in anyway. Instead one of his hands moved to her back and massaged it gently in a consoling manner.
"I just thought I could have one year...just one year where I could be happy...really happy," she started and her eyes began to brim with tears again. "Ginny kept telling me Ron really liked me, I wouldn't have believed it until I saw his reaction to the Slug Club and then I remembered the Yule Ball and...and," she took a deep breath and calmed slightly "and then I began to believe it." At this point astonishment crept into her tone as if she never felt anyone would like her 'that' way. "The twins and Mrs. Weasley kept giving me these looks when we were at the Burrow like they knew what was going on and...oh I don't know," she finished lamely. "I shouldn't have become so invested in it. I'm not even sure I really like him, I mean its..."
She was babbling incessantly and there was no way he could understand a word she was saying. Part of her hoped that if she kept asking herself questions, if the thoughts kept ricocheting around her head then her brain may offer some sort of answer, some sort of reprieve. She just wanted to be wanted, to be loved by someone other than her parents. After she had finally talked until her voice had become hoarse she placed both her hands over her face and sobs wracked her frame. He continued to massage her back soothingly and at some point he lifted his other arm around her and pulled her in so her head was buried in his shoulder.
After a few minutes she pulled herself out of his embrace, wiping the last tears from her eyes.
"Feeling better?" he inquired with the ghost of a grin on his face.
"Yeah, think I needed that," she returned with a short laugh. "Sorry again, I know you have enough problems, what with Ginny and all." Her words instantly had an effect and he became uncomfortable removing his arm from her shoulder. "I'm not stupid Harry. I mean...I may not be very adept in the relationship department but I see how you look at her."
"Yeah..," he started awkwardly "but I have bigger problems than watching Ginny snog Dean every time I leave the common room." There was a hint of resentment in his voice as he finished his sentence.
She felt it would be too selfish to tell him that he was too good for Ginny, not after he had been so gentle and caring to her. She loved Ginny as a close friend and confidant but she bounced around guys until she got bored of them. And although Ginny worshipped the ground Harry walked on and spent most of her days wondering whether Harry was gazing at her and giving him reasons to do so, she would never be able to deal with Harry's problems or even offer him advice as to how to deal with them. His troubles exceeded any other Hogwarts student and few people were capable of helping Harry in that area.
"I wonder what it is that propels people into searching for a soulmate," she said, her eyes drawn to the moonlight dancing on the floor of the classroom, her voice taking on a dream like quality not unlike Luna Lovegood's. He murmured as if to acknowledge that he was just as flummoxed as she was. "I think it's the fear of ending up...alone," her words were almost entirely drowned out by a garish and high-pitched giggle.
The door burst open and Ron sped in pulling Lavender by the hand. His lips were nearly on hers before Lavender registered they weren't alone. "Oop's. Looks like we're not the only ones looking for an empty room". A horrible swelling and billowing silence encompassed the room. Hermione's hand instantly shot out and gripped Harry's as if she was trying to brace herself against an assault. Ron refused to look at her and told Harry they had been looking for him, this was an obvious lie as Ron's ears turned a deep shade of red, noticeable even in the moonlight.
"I think you should go elsewhere Ron," Harry said evenly but Hermione was surprised to see anger flare in his emerald eyes and his jaw was clenched as if he wished to say more to the red-head.
The delighted smile dropped from Ron's face and he shot them a suspicious glare, his eyes settling at their joined hands between them. "Why can't we...?"
Hermione, driven by the blame she saw in Ron's eyes, shrieked "Oppugno!" and the chirping birds overhead sped towards Ron and Lavender who both stood there stunned. Ron just managed to haul Lavender out of the room before the birds crashed one-by-one into the wooden door. Hermione felt rage and disappointment course through her but could not deny that she felt slightly better after the attack.
"Five points to Gryffindor for wonderful execution of wandless magic," cheered Harry with a grin holding up a fake glass for a false toast.
She laughed despite the tears that again clouded her vision and she could tell he revelled in the fact he could stop her crying. He tightened his grip on her hand and draped his other around her shoulders. "You'll never be alone Hermione. I won't leave you." She couldn't even summon a reply and so rested her head on his shoulder again.
"HERMIONE!"
The incessant shouting of her name appeared to rip the memory in half and she found herself staring at Harry who was now standing in the centre of the room, cheeks glowing from the effort of yelling her name.
He ceased to bellow her name when she lost the distant look in her eyes and focused on him.
"What happened to you? You look terrible," he exclaimed waving his hand at her pointedly. She didn't need to look down to realise she must have looked alarming, her clothes were ripped, her face had been scraped by shrapnel and her hands were scored from the blast, droplets of blood finding their way on to the floor.
"There was another attack," she stated quietly causing him to drop his waving arm and mutter a slight "Oh".
"Thirty-two people were killed. It was in Leicester Square, I was a meeting a friend for lunch and then..." She didn't feel the need to continue.
Awkwardness settled itself comfortably in the room, causing Harry to feel a tad guilty for shrieking his head off at someone who had just suffered a tragic incident and Hermione to feel out of place and time, not knowing where to stand or what to say.
For the first time since leaving Leicester Square she felt a wash of exhaustion settle over her, as if the day's events had crawled until they caught up with her and were now devouring all the energy she had left.
"I came here to...convince you to forgive," she didn't know where her sentences were leading but it was more or less the same tripe they had been saying to him for the past month.
"I said no Hermione...I won't forgive you, not anytime soon anyway. Or the others for that matter..."
"I know," she interjected silencing him. "I know. And the truth is...I wouldn't forgive you easily if you did it to me. But remember all those times when you would try and do something dangerous and you would tell me and Ron it was too risky and that we should stay while you went? In fifth year when you were set on going to the Ministry of Magic or after Dumbledore was murdered...you wanted to search for the Horcruxes on your own..."
"It's not the bloody same Hermione!" His voice nearly cracked with rage.
"Then why Harry? Why did you want to go on your own?" She didn't yell or scream, but kept a level tone and he knew she was leading him to some answer.
"Because I didn't want you to get hurt for my sake..."
"But you knew we wanted to go too, to fight for ourselves and our families." She was now battling to keep her voice flat and not scream. She knew she had to make him see the circumstances from her point of view.
He turned so his back was facing her, he couldn't bare the sight of her and all those memories she instilled in him.
"There was more than just one person in that war Harry. We fought for everyone, not just you. There was the whole Order against Voldemort and his Death Eaters; you knew we'd want to fight. But you refused to let us go? Why?"
He rounded on her instantly. "Because I didn't want you to hurt anymore! Not because of me!" He was standing directly in front of her, faces mere inches apart yet yelling so loudly his face was flushed. Every time he said the word 'me' he beat his chest with his fist as if it would dull the guilt that was eating away at him. "You and Ron had suffered so much because of me! Following me into all those stupid situations I managed to get into. The amount of times you nearly died because of me. I couldn't shy away from what I had to do, but you had the choice and I didn't want you to endure any more pain because of a prophecy that didn't involve you."
"So why did you not want us to go?!" She asked again, this time she wanted him to say the exact words he needed to say.
"Enough Hermione! Just go..."
"WHY? TELL ME, HARRY! I WANT TO KNOW EXACTLY WHY! BECAUSE DEEP DOWN YOU KNEW YOU COULDN'T DO IT ON YOUR OWN, I KNEW THAT AND SO DID YOU. SO WHY DID YOU TRY AND GET RID OF ME AND RON?"
"BECAUSE I THOUGHT I WAS DOING THE RIGHT THING!" He roared grabbing her shoulders aggressively and for an instant she was afraid he would hit her.
An absolute stillness filled the house, as quiet as a blank piece of parchment. She could no longer feel the regret, the suffering or the terror. All that mattered was his hands clutching her, as if that had instantly become the focus of her life. Something in his eyes changed, she could sense he was calming down but he refused to step away from her. She didn't expect sudden realisation and forgiveness. She didn't get it either.
When the silence seemed to take its toll he took a great shuddering breath and dropped his gaze to her torn clothing. One of his hands left her shoulder and tentatively touched her scorched palm.
She felt breathless watching him inspect her injury, her mouth was directly beside his ear and she finally whispered "You once yearned for a normal life. We weren't trying to forget you...I could never forget you but...you had so much pain," her voice trembled and tears fell softly onto his hand which held hers "...I didn't want to see you suffer anymore. I didn't want to put you through all that grief again." She wanted to continue but all she could muster was a sob before she openly started weeping in front of another human being for the first time in almost a decade.
She felt selfish for crying through his pain. He was the one who should be howling, tearing the place apart and demanding answers. But they had left him emotionless, surely after everything they had lost him.
This was why she had come here, for confirmation of the consequences. He had once sat in a classroom with her for four hours over what she had believed to be a broken heart. That was the type of boy he had been but what kind of man was he now?
He didn't wrap his arms around her. He didn't embrace her like that night so long ago. He didn't move. Just stood in the same position but she felt the pressure tighten on her hand.
"Okay," he muttered hoarsely. "I don't see how you can see leaving someone alone with nothing in the muggle world as right." He paused peering at her for a response but she had none. "But if you were just trying to give me another chance...a clean slate then I think we can try..."
"I'd never forgive you if you forgave us," she interrupted moving her fingers so she was now clutching his hand. "It wouldn't be fair to ask you to let everything go and move on with your life. I just can't bare you hating me."
He shook his head disbelievingly " I don't think I could ever hate you. Sure I could dislike you; you can really be bossy sometimes…"
She swatted his arm playfully but stopped abruptly hoping she hadn't moved too soon, that he didn't think she had switched back to the past too hastily. She knew he needed more time and she wanted him to know she understood...even though time was not on their side.
His lips curved into a grin and she could not help exhaling a sigh of relief and a nervous chuckle. The tension which had gripped the room earlier was replaced by something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Although she felt comfortable in his presence again there was still something unresolved between them.
The kiss she had shared with Jonathon weeks before seemed so mistaken and inappropriate. However standing in a room being delicately held by Harry the kiss now took its place amongst a wealth of history that only they shared.