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The Reason by Emerald Tears
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The Reason

Emerald Tears

The Graveyard

A/N: Well, first of all, thank you all for those wonderful reviews. They encouraged me to try and make it a long fic... Let's see where it takes me... I've never tried writing adventure/action, so I hope that you'll like it. Without further ado, here's chapter two!

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything- Save for the plot.

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Harry snapped his eyes opened and broke the kiss, looking perplexed.

"Did you feel that?" He asked, slightly breathless. Hermione frowned and discovered with much surprise that her hands were locked around his neck.

"No... What was it?" She asked, suddenly concerned. "Is it Voldemort?" She added in a whisper. Harry shook his head slowly, wondering what he had indeed felt. It had been as though he had just received an answer for a question he had been born asking. Why now? Why precisely on that moment?

"No... It was something else... Like... Like an echo or something..." He tried to explain.

"An echo?"

"Yeah, sort of... Can't explain..." He rubbed his scar absentmindedly, not able to identify that strange sensation, that lightening of understanding; for a split second, everything had been so clear and flawless in his head... Hermione glanced at him worriedly, biting her lower lip.

"So what do we do next?" She questioned. He knew what she was referring to.

"Let's go now," he replied. Hermione let out a long sigh and nodded.

"Where are we going? And what about Ron?"

"I... Well, before I started searching for the Horcruxes I had planned..." He blushed as he trailed off; when had been the last time he had blushed in front of Hermione?

"Visiting your parent's graves," Hermione completed gently. "I remember. If you want to be alone, I'll stay here with the Weasleys," she told him with a smile. Harry shook his head again and returned the smile.

"If it isn't a problem for you... Well... I wouldn't mind the company," he said barely above a whisper, making Hermione beam at him. "As for Ron, let's wait until tomorrow or something. We certainly can't take him with us if he's pissed," he said.

"Right then. Let me get my wand and we'll be off. We're not telling anyone, aren't we?"

"They'll stall us. We'll be back, in any case..."

"That's what I thought." And with that Hermione turned around and ran in direction of the Burrow, her hair bouncing behind her. Harry stared at her go and ran his fingers through his hair, still swallowing the idea that she loved him back. As he started walking, he pondered on how the thought of Ron and Hermione being a couple now seemed like a distant nightmare... Ron hadn't been able to make her happy, after all... Harry stopped dead in his tracks at this thought. What were they going to tell Ron? He didn't want to lose his best friend... Would he understand?

Almost unconsciously his feet carried him towards the party, and thorough the Burrow's living room, and to the front door, where Hermione was waiting for him patiently. She was wearing a coat over her dress, and the tip of her wand peeked out of one of the front pockets. She smiled at him, he smiled back, and they joined hands before opening the door and stepping outside the house. Neither of them spoke a word as the door that lead to what could possibly be the last moment of untainted peace they had shared together closed behind them. An odd sense of loss gripped Harry, as he stared at the door, but the warmness coming from Hermione's hand provided him with all the comfort he needed.

And so in silence they started walking to the nearest apparition point, under the starry sky. The sound coming from the party slowly dimmed until it couldn't be heard anymore; only the sounds of the night accompanied them through the deserted street. Hermione sighed as she stole a glance at Harry.

"You've changed, Harry," she stated barely above a whisper, avoiding looking at him.

"For good or bad?"

"For good. It's just... Well... The things you told me tonight... The way you acted..." Hermione felt too embarrassed to tell him how much older and mature he had looked in that lonely spot of the garden.

"You've also grown, Hermione," Harry replied, and now she did look at him, surprised. "I guess that Dumbledore's... His... death... showed me that there are so many bigger things in life than snogging and fooling around..." He told her, frowning. "There are more important things. Things that are worth fighting for, you know?" Hermione also sighed, squeezing his hand.

"What things?" She wanted to know. He shrugged.

"You. Ron, Lupin, the whole Weasley family... Whatever," he mumbled awkwardly. Hermione smiled.

"Love in general, you mean?" She said as they rounded a corner, getting nearer to the hill overlooking the town where Ron lived. She wasn't even sure if they were about to apparate anymore- They just kept on walking, talking, being with each other; wanting to make up for the times they had lost last year.

"Yeah... Among other things..." Harry finally agreed. They kept on climbing up the hill for a while, until they halted before a short and slightly shrivelled tree, and Harry sat down, waiting for her to do the same. She did. From where they were sitting they couldn't see the entire town, but among what they could glimpse, the Burrow stood out from the other houses nearby.

"Do you think he'll notice we aren't there?" Hermione asked in a soft voice, nodding in direction of the Burrow.

"He's too drunk." Harry simply replied, staring straight into the black, clean sky. Hermione rested her cheek on his shoulder, following his gaze into the heavens.

"How do you think he'll take the news?" Hermione questioned, a cold feeling in her stomach. Ron would go mental... But if she ever had to make a choice between the two, she knew perfectly well where her loyalties lied.

"You know Ron. He'll get angry; he'll make a scene..."

"Why are you so mad at him?" Hermione asked, amused. Harry turned crimson, and only answered when she started poking his ribs playfully. "You can tell me, you know. I won't laugh."

"Because he got to act on his feelings for you before I did," he muttered at last, looking at the grass. "I mean... It's not like I- Well... It's hard to explain," he blabbered, ripping out some strands of grass. He didn't want Hermione to think that he regarded her as a trophy.

"Then I feel the same way towards Ginny," Hermione offered, coming closer to him. Harry snorted.

"This summer, for some reason, I remembered the first time that I saw her, when we were eleven," he started. Hermione tilted her head sideways, waiting for him to continue. "She only paid attention to me when Mrs. Weasley told her I was, oh dear, Harry Potter," he said with a sardonic smirk. "That memory made me wonder... If nobody had told her who I was, would she have loved me like she told me she did?" Hermione noticed the trace of bitterness in his voice, so she grabbed his hands again in an attempt to comfort him.

"I don't know, Harry," she answered truthfully. "Would you have wanted her to?"

"No, and yes," he replied. "No, because she never truly loved me; but I can't say much about that, because I never did either- She was a distraction. Something that proved to me that I'm still a teenager and allowed to do teenage stuff... She was ideal back then, because I needed that type of `romance' last year. You know: nothing deep, nothing complex... Nothing behind it." He explained. "And yes, because it would've been nice to think that I'm worth loving, and it's not just my name that which is lovable..." He lowered his head as he admitted this last part, and Harry couldn't help but wonder why he was bearing his soul to Hermione like he was doing now- Why tonight? What was so different from any other night, or day?

"Harry..." Hermione found herself wanting to tell him how she was feeling, but it sounded like something Pansy Parkinson would say: `oh, well, I always knew she was a fangirl. I've always loved you because of who you are, unlike Ginny...' But there was a need inside of her, an aching need to tell him everything while she still had the chance... Some force she couldn't fight obliging her to confess everything... "I love you. To me, you always were Harry. Just Harry..." Hermione blurted out; her cheeks and neck turning red as she saw him smile.

"I love you, too." Just like that, said so simply, but not lightly. Those four sacred words; words that had been repeated and spoken by almost every single human being around the world from the beginnings of humanity, and yet, Hermione felt like it was the first time she ever heard them. A silence fell over them, a silence full of sounds, crickets and breezes and rushing leaves, but nothing more. "It's three thirty," Harry suddenly stated, glancing at his watch. "I think we better get on the move." Hermione blinked at this, startled out of that cozy spot with Harry, and nodded as she stood up with the help of his hand.

"Okay. You'll have to guide me there, I'm afraid." She told him, gripping his arm tightly. Harry breathed in a closed his eyes, closely followed by Hermione, and with a `crack' they vanished from that hill to reappear in another lone street, in what appeared to be a very small and old town. There was no sound or no sight of movement anywhere. Hermione nervously gripped her wand through the fabric of her coat; there was not a house nearby. "Harry?" She whispered, staring at the dirty road frightfully. It was good that there wasn't any mist, because anyone would've thought that they were standing in front of Voldemort's unplotabble house.

"We're near the graveyard," Harry whispered back. "That's why there's nothing around. C'mon," he added, grabbing her hand as they lurched out of the shadowy sidewalk, and further up the street. Hermione pressed herself against Harry almost unconsciously, looking around her apprehensively. What could spring out of the shadows that surrounded them? Their footsteps, muffled by the dirt, resounded in the night loudly... Hermione glanced at the end of the street and narrowed her eyes, trying to bring into focus those big, black blobs in the short distance.

"Is this it?" she asked barely above a whisper. Harry agreed with his head as they continued walking. Nettles, vines and hedgerows wound themselves on an old and slightly rusty gate that went on to cover the whole block; the entrance to the graveyard was ajar. Harry gulped and Hermione squeezed his arm at this, biting her lower lip. The sight was creepy. Maybe it was just because it was nearly four in the morning and the moonlight bathed the place, but the crooked branches resembled long, pointed, menacing fingers. They both stopped moving at the entrance gate, and Hermione could almost sense Harry's discomfort. "Well, go in," she prompted.

"I'm not leaving you alone here," he argued, but Hermione knew that he wanted to do this alone- she wasn't about to intrude into his privacy.

"I'll put a Disillusionment charm on myself; I'll be alright." She reassured him. Harry hesitated at this, stuck between the guilt of leaving her alone and the need to be alone for what he was going to do. "Go on- I'll wait here." She urged, pulling her wand out of her pocket. Without further ado she rapped her head with it and shivered as the charm slithered down, transforming her into a sort of human chameleon. Harry stared at the spot where Hermione stood, slightly disconcerted with the fact that she was there but he could see right through her- She must have moved, because for a split second he noticed her silhouette.

"Right then... Don't move too much. If anything happens, just scream." She didn't move again, or speak, so Harry breathed in deeply and went through the gate and into the graveyard. The place was apparently empty, and it was reasonably well kept. It went out for miles, or so it seemed on that night... He wondered where his parent's graves were? He couldn't go checking on every tomb, it would be a waste of time, and Hermione was still alone at the graveyard gates. As he glanced around, narrowing his eyes at the faded stones surrounding him, he felt it again. That upsurge of energy, of power- And everything was clear again.

His feet started moving quickly, past the tombs and the mausoleums, past the broken angels adorning the oldest graves, and into the darkest part of the graveyard. As Harry continued moving, urged by that bizarre force, he noticed that this part had certainly had be forsaken; the grass was dying, yellow, dry; the tombs were cracked, and there were open holes here and there; he hoped that they were empty. At last his footsteps faltered and slowed down at the sight of two adjacent tombs, partially hidden beneath the dirt and the grass.

Harry kneeled down in front of the rain washed stone and a lump formed in his throat when he read the inscriptions embossed in the stone: the names of his parents, and the dates of their birth and death. There was nothing else, because it really wasn't needed. Harry brushed some dead leaves off his mother's tomb and straightened up again, putting his hands in his pockets. A mixture of melancholy and affection plagued his eyes as the restful silence enveloped him.

"Hello, mom, dad." he started, not know how to exactly transmit how he was feeling. "I... I wanted to see you, before I start looking for Horcruxes... Pieces of Voldemort's soul, in case you don't know. I guess... I just wanted to see... Just wanted to know how you two are doing," he muttered, blushing slightly. "I'm doing okay. I came with Hermione- she's not here; she's at the entrance, waiting for me. You know, mom, dad, I really do love her. She's my best friend; she'll always be. The line from friendship to something more wasn't painful to cross, I must admit." Harry said, smiling. "She told me she loves me, too, and I'm so happy. I need her so much; she has helped me so many times- more than I have helped her, in any case."

Silence. A hesitant smile.

"Tell Sirius and Dumbledore that I miss them too, if they're there with you."

He kneeled one last time in front of the graves and again brushed the cold gray surfaces, with a long sigh.

"I have to go now," he whispered, standing up. "I'll return, someday. I promise."

And with that Harry turned around and began walking back towards the gates, feeling strangely hollow. A warm and soft breeze began blowing as he moved, accompanying him through the graveyard. Harry closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, sensing the summer scent in that breeze; it held a sort of loving aura about it... Maybe the visit to his parents had heightened his sensitivity... Sooner of what he thought he could distinguish the hedgerows and the gates, and his pace quickened. Warily he neared the place where he had left Hermione, taking his wand out for security measures, but the breeze gave him confidence.

"Hermione?" He whispered.

"I'm here," She replied at his left, and as she moved Harry once more noticed the outline of her wand on her head. Seconds after Hermione stood smiling at him, looking slightly punch drunk. The consistent breeze made her curls fly in every direction.

"Are you alright?" Harry wanted to know, examining her closely. She nodded.

"It's this breeze," she started softly. "It feels like I'm smelling Amortentia..." she trailed off. Harry raised his eyebrows, surprised at this answer, and reached out for her hand.

"Let's go back to the Burrow," he suggested. Hermione agreed with her head and they started walking again in silence, and the more they distanced themselves from the graveyard, the gentler the breeze became, until it finally died down somewhere near the place where they had first apparated.

"How was it?" Hermione finally asked, referring to the visit. Harry shrugged.

"Fine, I guess. It felt... weird. But good weird."

"I see..."

"Thank you for coming with me," Harry told her, turning to gaze at her. She stood on the tip of her toes so she could kiss him, communicating him through her lips how happy she was that he trusted her enough to accompany him here. After their sixth year, Hermione felt like she had to thank him.

"Anytime," she breathed when they parted, locking her arms around his as they positioned themselves in the right spot to disapparate. "Oh, Harry, and one more thing." she suddenly said, breaking their concentration.

"What is it?"

"Sorry about not telling you this before, but you are worth my loyalty."

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A/N: Well, there it is- The second chapter. I hope you liked it... If you feel like reviewing, that would be lovely. Feedback is most appreciated!

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