Midnight Hour, Alone and Blue

He looked at the flashing lights upon the board in front of him. Despite being the late night show, he was never lacking callers. They always wanted to hear some song that would ease their pain. He know they did for him. He flipped on his microphone as the song ended. “Its the midnight hour,” he began, “and it's Mister Midnight, alone and blue.”

“That was the classic, Your Cheatin' Heart, by Hank Williams tonight,” he said, looking at the picture beside his station. The picture was of his brown-eyed love, who had found it in her heart to love another while with him. He forgave her, but not enough to talk to either of them. “I've got a block of the classics up right now before we lead into the time honored tradition of requests here on WKXM, Fully Loaded. WKXM, where music is food for the soul.” He lined up the next song, You Give Love A Bad Name, as he took a drink from the glass beside him. It burned on the way down, much like the tears in his eyes.

Closing his eyes, he thought back to the times when he was truly happy. The times when he still have friends that cared for him. Maybe they still did, but right now, he did not care. She went to his best friend while they were together. He did not blame her, he wasn't the greatest boyfriend in the world. But he tried to be, and he did everything that she wanted. She even told him so. That.....that was what hurt the most, that he was everything she wanted, yet she found it in her to give in one night. One night was all it too to destroy nearly a year of a relationship, and nearly nine of friendship.

“You alright Harry?” the technician asked.

“You ask me the same thing every night Chuck,” Harry said. He looked over at the older man. He worked behind the scenes, making sure that everything ran smoothly. “And you know the answer.”

“No,” Chuck said, shaking his head. That was the reason for the show. It was his way of dealing with the pain, and letting others deal with theirs. Chuck had become a surrogate father to Harry, especially since the man was still there for him, even after the fallout with his friends. He had cut himself off from just about everyone, already hearing from them what he did not want to here. That the two of them were happy, why couldn't he be for them? Even Lupin and Tonks were not that supportive of him, saying that it probably wasn't meant to be then. So he left.

It was coming onto five years since he had left them, and a year ago he had bought the radio station. He was making fist over hands of money, now that he revamped the station, something that everyone was happy with. His show had brought many sponsors which had brought them even more shows that would bring in a great deal as well. He had originally been asked to give up the spot by one of the sponsors in favor of one of their own people, and had promptly told them where to shove their money.

Their library of music was expansive, going over most genres with the exception of rap and hip hop. Not that he hated it, just it didn't do anything to ease his pain. The night passed like any other, and he was out the door by three, heading to an empty apartment.

He eased into his one bedroom apartment, knowing that no one where there to wait for him. His bed was as cold as it was the night before and the hundred before that. His answering machine was void of any calls, and his cupboards were just as bare, except for the alcohol that he kept there, though that would be gone soon.. He collapsed against his bed, knowing that the short hours of sleep he got now would only bring him more nightmares. The same emptiness that washed over his flat was the same that betrayed his demeanor. The tears that fell down his cheeks and the whiskey that he drank lulled him to sleep. They were the only warmth he had felt for a long time.

Ritual was the only thing that kept him going these days.

I0I

His show was going on two years' worth of programming now. Six years had pasted since he had spoken to any of his old friends. He had moved on, he thought he had at least. He was in a stable relationship, kinda, with a woman he thought he loved. When he wasn't with Cloe, he was at Chuck's laughing with the man and his wife or taking care of the man's children.

“Ready chief?” Harry called into Chuck as he readied a list of songs.

“Five minutes doc,” Chuck said with a smile. Harry groaned as he looked over the textbook in front of him. He was returning to school, specifically to obtain a doctorate in the field of psychology. He had managed to finish getting his bachelor's degree and now was finishing up getting his master. Less than a semester of classes, and he would be done, ready to move onto his PhD.

He looked at the picture of his two best friends, hoping that they were able to move on in their lives. He knew he never would see them again, they were too happy without him. If they had wanted him back in their lives, they would have contacted him by now. With a sigh, he switched on his microphone, steeling himself for his own memories to resurfaces, as others worked out theirs.

“Its the midnight hour,” Harry said with a smile, letting his voice drop a little bit, “and it's Mister Midnight, alone and blue. Brokenhearted, call up when you don't know what else to do.” While he no longer felt the loneliness that he did a year ago, it still was there, more than enough to keep up with his catharsis. “That was the classic 'Round Midnight by the legendary Miles Davis. We're switching gears right now as we're heading down a red dirt road. Brooks and Dunn for you to remember by.” He let the song play, leaning back in his chair. Already, callers were lining up and Chuck had begun to screen them, mainly to help fish out the requests and those that actually needed to talk with someone. He was handed a list of songs and began to line them up, falling into a routine once more.

“Four and Three,” he said before turning back to his own work. Harry read over his text, vaguely aware of the ending of the song. Harry flipped the caller Four onto the air, and go to back to work

“We've got our first caller on the line.” And so the night passed

Near the end of their show, two in the morning, Chuck handed him a caller's line, telling him that she needed to be on the air. He raised his eyebrow, but knew not to question the man's judgment. The song ended, and he flipped on the caller.

“Hi,” the voice was shaking, as she had been crying. Harry steeled himself, knew that voice. He knew it blind, dumb, hell he even knew it deaf. It was the same voice that haunted his dreams. The same voice that kept him up for nights at a time, even she was with him. Now more so than before....before... He shook his head, shaking those images from his head as he got back to work.

“Hello darling,” Harry said, hoping that she did not recognize his voice. “What seems to be the problem tonight?”

“Its....” her voice dropped off. There was a long pause, as she was steeling herself to say what she needed to, just like Harry was steeling himself against her words. “Harry.....please tell him I'm sorry and I wish that things could be the same.” Chuck looked up at Harry, the apology in his eyes. Harry waved him off, turning his back to Chuck. He had enough problems right now, being angry with him was not one he needed to add.

“Darling, what's your name?” Harry managed to ask. He had to keep his voice level. He never expected her to call him again, let alone call him up on the station.

“Hermione,” she said, followed by another sniffle. Harry opened his mouth to say something, then the other voice he had not heard in over a year spoke.

“Love, who you talking to?” Ron's voice asked. He heard the soft click of the phone, then the dial tone. Chuck override him and took control of the songs as the next one began to play. Another Hank Williams song echoed through the station as Harry felt the tears begin to fall down his face.

He could not bring himself to finish the show, letting Chuck play his recorded send off. He rarely used it, yet tonight, he could not bring himself to finish. Harry dropped the phone before cradling his head in his hands, trying to fight the tears.

“Harry, you okay?” Chuck asked. '

“Does it look like I'm okay?” Harry asked. “How could you do that to me?” He stood, the anger beginning to swell within him.

“Hey, how the hell was I supposed to know that was her?” Chuck said. Harry glared at the man. Both of them knew that it was done on purpose. “What do you think is wrong?”

“I don't know, I really don't care,” Harry said. He grabbed his book and made for the door. The pain began to fill his chest again, the same one that he had fought for over a year to get under control. Leaning against the frame, he looked at the floor. “You know its over between me and Cloe now don't you?”

“I'm sorry, Harry,” Chuck said. Harry just nodded and shuffled his way out the door, trying not to think of Hermione's shaky voice or his own breaking heart. “Harry, you know you can call me right? Harry?”

He barely heard his friend as he made his way out of the building. Tossing the textbook into his car, he closed his eyes, knowing that his want for the drink was only as strong as he let it be , and right now, he would not give into another vice. He had done enough of that for the evening.

“Hear that lonesome, whippoorwill, he sounds too blue to fly,” He whispered as he drove home. “That means he's lost the will to live, I'm so lonesome I could cry....” He didn't break down until he got to the parking lot by the apartment complex. He was rather proud of himself for that.

I0I

Another week passed, and he could not get her off his mind. He never could, looking back. She had invaded every aspect of every part of his life, without him knowing it. He sat in the pub across from his station, trying to finish his notes for the evening.

“Harry?!” He looked up and mentally groaned. Ginny Weasley was standing in the doorway, shocked to see him. She did not look any different from when he last saw her. Her hair was lighter and longer and she wore tighter clothes, but he just attributed that to her personality.

“Ginny,” he said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. She stopped suddenly as if she had been slapped by his words. “How are you?”

“Good, I'm good,” she said. She seemed to regain a sense of composure as she walked toward him. “May I sit?” He looked at her for a moment before nodding. She put her bags onto the floor, sitting across from him. “How are you doing?”

“I'm getting by,” Harry said, closing his book before placing it in his bag. She nodded, as if expecting him to say something more. She would be waiting a long time.

“Everyone's been wondering about you,” she said. He nodded, trying to remain calm. He had tried to move away from that part of his life. He did not need to know about them. He did not want to know how she was doing.

“Can I get you something to drink?” A waitress asked. She was average height, with dark brown hair yet very expressive eyes. And one of the few friends he had managed to make while in exile. She also happened to be Chuck's wife.

“I'd like a red wine,” Ginny said before turning back to Harry. The waitress took off before she could take his order, which Ginny seemed angry about. Harry figured it was just something to concentrate on besides the conversation between them that was clearly failing.

“Ginny, she knows what I like,” he said with a small smile. Something never changed, and as her face turned as red as her hair, he knew that in part, he did miss them. He missed them all.

“You've been here before?” Ginny asked, happy that conversation seemed to be going. He smiled her as the waitress walked back.

“A red wine for you, miss,” the waitress said. A glass of cold milk was placed in front of Harry for him, and he gave her a small smile.

“Thank you Shirley,” he said. “Tell me how are the boys?”

“Dying for you to see them again, little Tommy's got a new trick to show you,” she said. Her smile seemed to grow at the mention of her sons. “Will you be joining us for dinner any time soon?” There was a hopeful look in her eyes that even Ginny had to realize was there. “Chuck's been feeling pretty bad about what happened. As he should.”

“Ginny, I'd like you to meet Shirley Andre,” Harry said, motioning toward the waitress. “Shirley, a friend from before, Ginerva Weasley.” At the mention of the name, Shirley's eyes became slightly less bright, just like Harry thought they would be.

“Pleasure meeting you,” Shirley said. Before Ginny could get a response off, she spoke again, much like Harry thought she would. “I really must be going, please talk to Chuck. He really is sorry.” Harry nodded as he turned back to Ginny, losing the grin upon his face.

“Well she wasn't very nice,” Ginny said, crossing her arms in a pout.

“No, she's actually one of the nicest people I've ever known, wouldn't hurt a fly,” Harry said. He let the words hang in the air, knowing that they couldn't hurt anymore with what followed. “But if you hurt one of those she considers hers....let me just say that you have nothing on her anger.” Harry laughed lightly at Ginny's expression. She glared at him, and looked ready to explode at him. He stopped laughing and returned the glare at him. “You start yelling, and you sure as hell won't get another word out of me. I've been through hell because of you and yours, and not going back through it.” He stood and took his bag with him. “You want answers, control that bloody temper of yours, otherwise you're getting nothing from me.” He left, his anger getting the better of him, as he headed across the street to the station. If he had stayed, he might had seen the perplexed look upon the brunette's face as she sat down across from Ginny.

I0I

It was now officially a month, three days, eight hours, and twenty-three minutes since he had received Hermione's phone call. Not that he wasn't counting. He hadn't broken yet, his vice was still under control. Though, if Harry wanted to admit it, it was mainly because of Chuck and Shirley. He had not been allowed to go back to his empty apartment and was currently spending his evenings with them, much to the delight of Tommy and Kevin, her two sons. Her youngest, Ashley, was still to young to play with them, yet loved his company just the same.

His ride to the university took a bit more each day, but he could not say that he didn't feel better spending more time with them. Today however, he was spending the day going over his notes for his assessment coming up. The oral examine was what he thought was going to kill him, as his thesis was done well enough to raise his chances by quite a bit.

“I was surprised when Ginny told me that you were here.” He did not look up to the owner of the voice; he knew who the owner was without looking. She had haunted his memories more than one lonely evening.

“I'm surprised you are even talking to me,” he said. Marking a statement on defense mechanisms, began to read over it again as she sat down across from him. Denial and intellectualization were two of his personal favorites. He used them on a daily basis. Like right now.

“Look Harry, I'm-” He held up his hand, asking her to stop.

“I've been through a long, long couple of years Hermione,” he said. He looked at her, realizing that she was trying to hold back her own tears. “It's taken me a long time to accept that I was abandoned by my two closest friends for each other, and then the people I considered my family. But I've accepted it.” He went back to his textbook, trying to concentrate on his work. “Getting over it however hasn't happen nor will it happen in the immediate future.”

“Harry, we didn't mean to push you away,” she said. He didn't want to hear about it; he wasn't ready for to hear her talk about their relationship.

“How is Ron?” Harry asked, changing the subject. He was slightly surprised to see her stiffen at the mention of Ron's name. Though he could not help but cheer for himself, he did not let her notice that.

“He's fine, so are the rest of the Weasley's,” Hermione said. Harry nodded, before removing a newspaper from his bag. “Harry, you are not really being the politest of company.” She sounded exasperated, as if she knew this was coming.

“I apologize then, but I was not expecting you to invite yourself to my table,” he said. He opened and began to read the sports. “I'm dealing it with the same way I've dealt with the other problems in my life Hermione. Especially after Hogwarts.” She did not know how true and painful those words were. He doubted she ever would.

“And how's that?” she asked. “Ignore them Harry?” He flipped the page, wondering if his station had made the paper again. “That's no way to go through life.”

“Neither is finding out that the two people you considered more than family were going at each other behind your back,” Harry said without emotion. He took a deep breath trying to control everything he was feeling. “What was it that you really wanted from Hermione? Your life must have been going well if you didn't feel it was necessary for you to contact me.”

“Look, I'm sorry about that, its just that Ron thought it would be a good idea to let you contact us first when you were okay with it,” Hermione said in one breath. He raised an eyebrow, knowing that was not all of it. “And as for my reason for being here, I wanted to talk to my best friend.” Harry scoffed at this, rolling his eyes. That wasn't everything either.

“Hermione you've hardly been a friend to me these past years,” he said. “I've had too many problems that you know nothing about. I'm too different of a person and so are you. You've proven that to me already.” He glared at her, to which she only returned his glare. They were like that for a while until she broke first, and he broke with her. It hurt him worse to see her cry.

“I'm trying to make amends Harry, why won't you let me?” Hermione asked. The tears that she had been trying to fight back now where falling down her face.

“Because I can't,” Harry yelled at her. He left, the anger becoming too much for him to take. He couldn't handle it anymore. He left the restaurant, heading right instead of toward the station like he always did. He couldn't do it today. He couldn't be the man that everyone spoke their problems to; not today, not right now.

-->

When he opened his eyes, he had failed. He knew he had; the pain in his head and the pit of his stomach told his so. He was broken; he had broken the one promise that was the hardest for him to keep. The one he wanted to keep the most. With a groan he rolled over, into the face of the couch he had collapsed into, though how he got there, he wasn't too sure. He really wasn't quite sure of anything that had happened since he broken down and let the demon win. With a grunt of pain, he tried to push up off the couch, but his arms were too stiff, as if they had been bound for the evening. He gave up and flopped back down on the couch, hiding from the sun.

He could hear voices, and knew enough from the surroundings that he was at Chuck and Shirley's. They were the only people that knew of his problems, besides his support group and sponsor. He needed to talk to Luna soon, if only so he could justify his actions to someone. In one night, he had lost every step that he had taken since joining the program. Every step was gone. He'd have to start over again. Could he do that?

After seeing Hermione again, he wasn't sure if he could. He could face the world without the drink if she wasn't in it. But now....now.... Was he strong enough? Could he go on knowing she still cared, but he couldn't have her?

“Drink this,” Chuck's disembodied voice said. He felt his hand being lifted and a cup being put into it. “Sit up, we need to talk.” Harry did as he was told, making sure he didn't spill the cup of whatever was being given to him. He hoped it was black coffee. He couldn't normally drink it, but it worked wonders when he needed to get through a hangover and couldn't get another drink. “What happened?”

“She did,” Harry said. He hoped Chuck knew what he meant. He didn't think at the moment he could string more than a few words together. He must have drunk more than he thought.

“Ah,” Chuck said. There was silence between them, as if neither knew what to say next. He took a drink of the coffee, sticking out his tongue in disgust. He hated the stuff with a passion, never did like it, and only drink it to ease some of the hangover. Setting down the cup, he leaned back and closed his eyes, massaging his temples.

“What are you going to do now?” Chuck finally asked. Harry shook his head, feeling the tears beginning to well up.

“I don't know, I.....I'm not strong enough, I don't think I can do this,” he said, cradling his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees. Chuck's arms wrapped around him as he cried, the pain of his failure over taking him. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay, Harry, it's okay,” Chuck said. He didn't know how long he was there, nor did he really care. No one had held him like that for a long time.

He eventually wore himself out. He must have, because when he awoke he was laying on the couch still, but there were three voices in the kitchen. They were not talking loudly, but he could hear them nonetheless.

“He doesn't want to talk to you,” Chuck said. “You've done enough to him.”

“I just want to talk to him,” Hermione said. God, why was she here? How did she find him? Couldn't she leave well enough alone? He closed his eyes, groaning lightly at the sunlight that now flooded the room. They must have opened the curtains. Their voices were mushing together, and were too loud for him to handle. He needed to get out of here. His office seemed like a good place to hide at.

He apparated out of there quickly, not wanted to stay any longer than he had to stay. The Andres knew he used magic, since both of their boys where showing signs of being wizards, it made things a lot easier. He hoped they didn't freak out too badly since he left. But he couldn't be there, not then, maybe not for a while.

I0I

“That was Kenny Rogers new one, I Can't Unlove You,” Harry said. He had moved back into his apartment, stating he needed some time on his own. He was now almost done with his first week of sobriety. The first few days clean were the hardest. Today was always the hardest.

He was back to his show, trying to clean up the mess that had been made in his absence. Not that they did a poor job, it was just that that the regular callers felt that the man in his place failed to help them as he did. “Coming up next, nonstop block of songs that sooth the soul.” Harry started up the tracks, leaning back in his chair. He wanted to relax, but never found the motivation to relax. Even after all of the years gone by.

“Harry, you coming by for dinner tomorrow night?” This was the same question that Chuck had been asking for a while. He shook his head, knowing that the man was trying to help him. He didn't want help right now. He needed to take his first steps alone, then maybe he'd accept some help.

“Harry, she's on line One, should I drop her?” Chuck had to stick his head through the door, taking the time to ask him this time.

“She know its me?” Harry asked, setting up for the call. Chuck shook his head. Harry could not help but let a breath of relief escape as he waved him on. A few minutes passed as Harry prepared himself, and wished from some liquid courage, then cursed himself for the thought.

“Hello darling,” Harry said into the microphone. “Its nice to hear from you again.

“Thank you,” Hermione replied. “I was hoping that you could help me with a problem of mine.”

“I'm here to help you however you need it,” he said. In the background, he turned on a soft jazz song, not conscious of the title at the moment.

“Well, its in regards to my best friend,” Hermione said. “I haven't talked to him, for a while now, almost six years now, and I don't know how to approach him.” There was a pause, and Harry took the moment to gather his own strength. “He reacted badly to me when I tried to talk to him in public. I just don't know what to do anymore.” The silence was deafening, with the exception of a haunting melody in the background.

“Did you apologize?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said between sniffles.

“Did you mean it?” Harry asked. There was a pause again, more sniffles. He took the initiative at this point. “Did you tell him exactly why you did what you did, explain to him what happened and that you need him back in your life?” There was another silence, and Harry could not help but chuckle, thinking of her. “Love, you can't shake your head on the radio, unless you've got rock's in your head, then you can.” She laughed at this and seemed to relax a bit, more than he could at least.

“No, I didn't,” Hermione said. “What if he won't listen to me?” Harry sighed, scratching his head for a moment. He was the one that needed to make the choice, would he listen?

“Try once more, and call me back if it doesn't work out. I'll set up a mediation for you two if you like,” Harry offered. That would not be necessary though, he'd talk to her. She made the first step, like he had wanted her to, now it was his turn to act.

“Oh thank you so much,” Hermione said. Harry could not help but smile at her antics, she always could make him smile.

“No problem love, and remember,” he said with a smile, the first one he had on his face for a long time. The first real smile he had. “Mister Midnight is always here to help with matters of the heart.”

“Thank you....and could you do one more thing for me?” Hermione's voice had grown soft and unsure again.

“Anything for you sunshine,” Harry said. He froze slightly, mentally kicking himself. He had called her that all the time when they were dating. There was a pause in the conversation, but Hermione continued nonetheless.

“Could you play a song for me?” Hermione asked. “If you can't its okay, but it would mean a lot to me if you could.”

“Which one?” Harry asked. He brought up his library, ready to find her search.

“Bridge Over Troubled Water” Hermione said. “By Simon and Garfunkel.”

“That I can do,” Harry said, quickly finding the song and placing it near the top of the list. “It'll be on shortly.”

“Thank you so much......um....bye,” she said, hanging up the phone quickly. He laughed lightly and let the next song play. Turning around, he found Chuck leaning against the door frame.

“Better,” Chuck asked. Harry shook his head, moving his hand toward the bottle of water he kept with him. His hand began to shake, something it had done on and off over the last few days as he went through withdrawal. He'd come out of it on top though, he'd not give in again. One day at a time. One step at a time.

“Nope,” he said. “But I'm getting there.”

I0I

Hermione had some how gotten the phone number of the house from Shirley after she left them the week before. And sure enough, bright and early, Hermione called, asking if she could speak to Harry. The disappointment in her voice when he told her he had to leave for a class surprised him. He didn't think it was going to be that big of a deal, especially if she was with Ron. She sounded much happier when he said she could leave her number with Shirley and he'd call her back.

He begrudgingly moved back in with the Andres, to the boys' delight. Not that he didn't like living there, he just felt better under his own roof. Where he wasn't being watched like he was about to break every moment.

Harry especially did not like coming back from the university only to be bombarded with half a dozen questions per second about Hermione from Shirley. That he could have definitely done without.

“Hermione?” He managed to call the number she left, hopefully a cell and not a home phone. And if she wasn't there, all the better, he tried, he said he'd call back and....

“Harry!” Hermione's ecstatic voice was on the other end. He had to pull the phone away from him at how loud she was. “I can't believe you called me back. I had almost thought you had forgotten.”

“I said I'd call and I did,” Harry said with a smile. Shirley was running around, getting ready for a date she had with Chuck. It was his night off, at Harry's insistence, and the two of them were going out on a date. He was taking the night off as well, knowing that the block of rock and country he had scheduled should handle most everything his regulars asked for. She handed Ashely swiftly to Harry as she moved around, finishing her hair. “So what did you call about?”

“I wanted to know if you would like to get together sometime, so I could explain myself,” Hermione said. Her voice had grown self-conscious as she spoke. “Maybe catch up on everything as well.”

Harry took a deep breath, knowing how difficult it must have been for her to call him and ask this. But she had made the first step, that was all he had ever asked for. Nodding to himself, he smiling down at Ashley as he spoke. “Sure,” he said. “I think.....I think that might be a good idea.”

“Oh Harry, thank you so much,” Hermione said. “So would you like to meet tonight?” Her voice sounded so hopeful, and it hurt him to let her down.

“I can't, sorry,” Harry said, laughing lightly as Tommy and Kevin ran from their father who looked like he was trying to tie a tie as he did.

“Hot date?” Her words didn't hold the same happiness or joy that they had only a few moments ago, and he pushed those thoughts aside as to why. They were friends, or at least going to try and see if they still were.

“With a eight month old that loves to chew on my fingers,” Harry said with a laugh. He heard Hermione's slight laugh, hiding something.

“So how about sometime this week?” Hermione asked. Her voice was hopeful again.

“Does lunch work with you? My job would interfere if it was any later,” Harry asked, knowing she'd most likely agree. Maybe this would bring him the amount of closure he was looking for, so he could move on. Maybe, if he was lucky.

“No, lunch is good, how about tomorrow?” Hermione asked.

“Sounds great, any place in particular?” Harry let the smile grow on his face. He doubted he had ever heard someone sounds as happy as Hermione did right now. Chuck had won the fight with his tie and raised an eyebrow in Harry's direction

“How about the pub I met you at?” Hermione asked. Again with the hopeful tone. Had he ever refused her of anything? Which was part of the problem.

“Sounds great, I'm usually there after my classes at about 12, maybe 11:45 if traffic isn't bad,” Harry said. He waved off Chuck's question as he took Ashley from him. He really wanted the time to think of how he was going to handle everything.

“I'll be there by 11:30,” Hermione said. “Thank you so much, Harry. I promise, I'll try and explain everything. Just know that I'm sorry.”

“Hermione, its okay, we'll talk about it tomorrow,” Harry said. There was a pause, and immediately he knew that Hermione did not want to hang up, and he surprised himself, neither did he. “Hermione would you be terribly upset with me if I hang up first?”

“No,” she said. There was a question in her voice, as if she was unsure of what he was asking. “Are you going to go?” She sounded disappointed again, something he hated to hear in her voice. He could not say why, even after all these years, even after what she did to him.

“I'm sorry, I kinda have to,” Harry said. “Chuck and Shirley are heading out and I'm babysitting their kids tonight.”

“Oh, okay,” Hermione said. “I guess this is goodbye then.”

“For now,” Harry said. “I will see you tomorrow, remember that.”

“I know, it's just...” Hermione said. Her voice trailed off and before he could ask what was wrong, she said her goodbyes and hung up. Harry looked at the receiver for a moment before placing the phone down. Hermione certainly still lacked emotional confidence as she was when he had started dating her.

He saw Chuck and Shirley, dressed up for their dinner date. “Have fun you two.”

“Harry, you sure you will be okay?” She asked.

“Responsibility is a good motivator to keep away from the drink,” Harry said. He couldn't say much more as both Tommy and Kevin launched themselves at him, facing the television across from them. They must have slid in a movie while they were talking. “Look I'll be fine, and I know you don't keep anything here anyway. We're not going to have any problems. Relax have a good time.”

Harry laughed lightly at the sight of the Lion King coming onto the screen. Tonight he had a better distraction than his vice: a family.

I0I

He walked in at 11:45, like he said he would and found Hermione sitting with a salad and an iced tea, reading a book. He smiled slightly at the sight, bringing a sense of normalcy to his life. “Harry!” Hermione's eyes lit up when she noticed him.

“Hello Hermione,” Harry said. He walked over to her, ready to sit down, but was surprised by the hug. “It's good to see you too.” He returned the hug, trying to remember what he had planned to tell her. Now all that was out of the window.

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” she said. As she pulled back, he could see the tears in her eyes. “You have to let me explain.” She made him sit down and then she went back to her seat, pushing aside both her books and her lunch for the moment.

“That's what this is all about isn't it?” Harry asked. He gave Shirley a smile as she dropped off his meal for the day.

“Did you phone the order in?” Hermione asked, surprised at how fast he was served.

“I eat here just about every day, same thing,” Harry said. “Soup of the day, today it looks like vegetable, with the fish of the day, grilled of course, with steamed vegetables of some sort and a glass of milk to wash it down.” He returned her smile as he tried the soup which was as good as ever.

“Do you mind if I begin while you eat?” Hermione asked. Harry shook his head, beginning on the fish. “I first wanted to tell you how sorry I was. Both for what I did, and then not contacting you. Both are inexcusable, and are things that I regret to this day.” She looked down at this, playing with a button on her blouse. “I can't tell you why I broke up with you for him. Part of it was because I felt he was safer choice, that I was less likely to get hurt if I was with. All I know was that I was scared of what was happening between us, and it was happening so fast. You were gone so often that I felt alone, and he was there for me. He held me and it felt good to be held again.” Harry pushed back his plate, losing the battle with his stomach.

“Why didn't you tell me any of this?” Harry asked. He did not make eye contact, not that he needed to to know she was crying.

“I was scared, Harry, scared that you would hate me,” Hermione said.

“I did, for quite some time,” Harry admitted. “It actually lead to a lot of me problems.” Harry pushed the food around his plate, not looking at her. They remained quiet trying to work out what the other meant.

“What problems Harry?” Hermione finally managed to ask.

“Problems that are mine,” Harry said. “I'd rather not talk about them right now. And please don't ask anymore, a favor to an old friend if you want.” Hermione nodded, smiling slightly. There was another silence and now Harry felt compelled to speak. “I wasn't gone often, I was home every day.”

“You worked nights Harry,” Hermione said as if it would explain everything.

“Yes, and you worked days,” Harry said. “If there was a problem with me working nights, you should have told me, I could have gotten it changed.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down. He had forgiven her, he had to remember that. Her reasons sucked, but he had forgiven her. She just did not need to know that right now.

“Did Ron ever give you a reason, or am I just to assume he never got over you, and decided to take instead of tell me?” His eyes narrowed at this and Hermione looked away. This was the second time that Hermione had turned from him when he mentioned the name Ron.

“No, you're right, he never was over me and I guess a part of me was never over him,” Hermione said.

“Would have been nice to know that before I caught the two of you in our bed,” Harry muttered.

“Harry, I swear to you, that was the first time that we ever had sex,” Hermione pleaded. “We were out with friends, and we just got out of hand with the drinking I guess.”

“I can understand the getting out of hand part,” Harry said, remembering his own drunken escapades. None of which were tales of pride or fun for him. He moved his hands to his lap, feeling a shake coming on. “So, what are you up to now?” She didn't need to know about that weakness in him.

“I am a teacher still,” Hermione said. He wasn't surprised; she had gotten the job straight out of Hogwarts and had excelled at it immediately. “Its been hard though returning to Hogwarts when so many things made me remember of the friendship I had ruined.” Harry nodded, understanding her reaction to Hogwarts. It was part of his reason for leaving the magical world; everything reminded him of Hermione in some way. “How about you, what do you do?”

“This young man is an entrepreneur,” Shirley said, dropping off two slices of cheesecake. She gave Harry a smile as she left. He shook his head before going back to his lunch, leaving the cheesecake alone for the moment.

“What does that mean?” Hermione asked as Harry finished off his soup.

“It means I own several business and operate one of them,” Harry replied. “The pub is one of them and a book store down the street is another that I own. Turned them both around rather quickly too.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I'm also working on my masters currently.” Hermione's eyes sparked at this, clearly surprised.

“In what?” Harry could not help but smile.

“Psychology,” Harry said, finishing off the grilled salmon and vegetables. “Interesting subject, but you can't do anything with just a degree in it. I'll be moving onto my doctorate soon, within the next month or so if I graduate.” He shrugged his shoulders again.

“Harry, stop being modest, that's wonderful. And I'm positive you'll graduate,” Hermione said. He could not help but blush under her gaze. While the Andres had told them that as well, hearing Hermione say it meant a lot more to him then he'd like to admit. “You'll be Dr. Potter then won't you?”

“Maybe, I still like being just Harry though,” Harry admitted. She smiled again at this.

“You'll always be just Harry to me,” Hermione said. It was her turn to blush at her comment. Another silence enveloped them.

“You should really try the cheesecake,” Harry said, taking a bit of his.

“Oh,” Hermione said. She turned to the dessert, taking a bit of it before closing her eyes.

“Good?” Harry asked, silently hoping so. She nodded before taking another bite.

“It should be, took me forever to get Harry's recipe just right,” Shirley said, taking away their dirty plates. Hermione looked over at him again in awe.

“Why do you think I eat such a good lunch?” Harry asked. “Thing's richer than anything else I've ever made.” He blushed under her stare.

“He gave the recipe to us after watching him take it out and eat it after his meal. Several other customers had asked for some, and I didn't know. Finally worked up the courage to ask him for it one day,” Shirley said. “This was about a month after he had bought the place, but never told anyone that he was the owner.”

“How long have you owned this place?” Hermione asked. Harry blushed again, turning away. Her look of awe was something always set him on edge, always made him feel good about what he was doing.

“Over four years now,” Shirley said. “Hasn't paid a dime for a meal since then either. Refused to take any profit, instead putting it all back into the pub, with better food and bonuses.” Shirley shook her head, moving onto other customers.

“You don't pay for meals?” Harry shrugged his shoulders at the question.

“Not usually, unless I'm out with someone,” Harry said. He let out a sigh as one of his secrets was out. “They cornered me after they learned that I was putting all the money into their bonuses and tips. I really don't need it, making too much money with some of the other business that I've got too.”

“How many business do you have?” Hermione asked as finished off his piece cheesecake.

“Four normal ones, including the book store and this pub,” Harry said. “Then I hold the majority interest in about six wizard businesses right now, including the Quibbler. Luna and I managed to work something out after her father died.”

“The Quibbler is the most bought paper in the Wizarding World Harry,” Hermione said. She shook her head, before confusion covered her face. “I didn't know you were in contact with Luna.”

“I was, still am actually,” Harry admitted. “We met one day before I left the Wizarding World for the most part, and we had lunch. She told me her problem, and I offered a solution, with a stipulation. She took it, and then has helped me obtain other businesses.”

“You two put the Prophet out of business Harry,” Hermione said. “Ginny was working there.” There was no anger in the statement, just curiosity.

“Just business Hermione, I didn't know, no one cared to inform me of anyone's current occupation so I did what was necessary to make my businesses successful.” Harry leaned back and let it all sink in. “It was Luna that told me that the Cannons where in trouble financially, so I bought them out, hired a productive manager and turned around the team.”

“The Cannons have one of the best records right now Harry, they have for the last year or so,” Hermione said. “Why did you do all this? Help out Luna. Even Ron. He was traded to the Cannons you know?” Harry shrugged his shoulders.

“What do you want me to say?” Harry asked. “I've had to find things to keep me occupied, and my mind off the problems you left me.”

“How many problems did I cause?” Hermione asked. The question was more toward herself than toward Harry, yet he felt the need to answer it.

“None that I didn't play a hand in myself,” Harry said. He took her hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you've changed Hermione, and so have I. We're different people then we were six years ago. I think I'd like to become your friend again, Hermione.”

“I'd like to be your friend again too,” Hermione admitted. She was blushing again as he held her hand. “Would you like to know what everyone else is doing?” The question seemed geared at removing the tension that had settled between them.

“That would be nice,” Harry said. “Luna was left out of the loop too. So I'm pretty far out of it I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders, showing no hard feelings.

“Ginny and Luna had a falling out after the Quibbler became the number one paper,” Hermione said. “Luna offered her a job, but Ginny turned it down, too stubborn to admit that Quibbler was a better paper. Which is it, even with her more adventurous articles.”

“I persuaded her to higher reputable reporters to do a great deal of the day-to-day writing,” Harry said with a smile. “That gave her time to research and focus on her own stories. She's proven one or two of them already. Fascinating really.”

“I know, which is why I'm a subscriber,” Hermione said with a blush. “When she fully researches something, I can't help but feel that there is some truth to them.”

“She'll be glad to hear that, she's always looked up to you,” Harry said. Hermione stared at him for a few moments, evidently surprised by his statement. “You are one of the smartest people in the Wizarding World Hermione, you don't think that your approval on one of her research projects wouldn't mean anything to her?” Hermione sat back in her chair, silenced by Harry's words.

“When are you meeting with Luna again?” Hermione asked. “I think it'd be nice to see her again.”

“In about a week. We meet about once a month to just catch up and talk,” Harry said. “We're a comfort to each other.” Hermione nodded, but did not make eye contact with him.

“Did you two date?” Hermione asked. Harry was caught off guard by the question, and smiled with a shake of his head.

“Things between us are too complicated for that,” he said with a laugh. “Tell you what, I'll ask her if we could meet at her place. Might help explain a few things.” Hermione nodded, her smile a little wider than it was before. “So care to tell me how Remus is doing? Are he and Tonks still together?”

“They've been married a little less then a year,” Hermione said, not looking at him. Harry looked at her, nodding. While he had wished to be invited, and it hurt that he wasn't, it was their choice. “Mrs. Weasley took over the planning.” Harry looked up at Hermione for a moment, understanding everything now. Molly had been the one that pushed Ron the hardest to get together with Hermione. “What happened between the two of you?”

“We had a falling out,” Harry said. “She was trying to be my mother, but I wasn't looking for one.”

“When was this?” Hermione asked. It obviously was news to her.

“About two days before I caught you,” Harry said. Molly held a lot more of the blame for his current state then he thought. “I kinda figured Molly pressured you into going out with Ron.” Hermione nodded.

“Its really no excuse though,” she said.

“No it isn't,” he said. He looked at her for a moment before shaking his head. He had to stop it, she was over him. That much was obvious. She still has Ron, who was successful, why would she need him in her life? “Where do we go from here?” His question was soft, and he regretted asking it immediately. Yet part of him felt he needed to say it.

“I don't know Harry,” Hermione said. Her voice was just as soft, but she reached for his hand, holding onto it tightly. “But I want you to know that I did not intentionally shut you out of my life. I never meant to hurt. But I did, and now I want to make up for it.” Harry nodded, squeezing her hand. He needed to call Luna or someone, just to talk his way through the want.

“I've got to head out, and make a few calls,” Harry said. He opened his wallet and placed a tip on the table. He knew Shirley would be angry, and the money would be placed in the profits, but he always did it, no matter what she or anybody else said. He took care of his workers. “I'll give you a call when I set something up with Luna.” Hermione stood as well. “It was great talking to you again Hermione.” He turned to leave, only to stop at the arms that were around him. He turned and wrapped his own arms around her, trying to hold back the feelings he still had for her.

“If I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you Harry, I will,” Hermione whispered. She kissed his cheek. “You better call me.” She said with a smile as she left. Harry watched her go, shaking his head. He really need to talk to Luna or Chuck to work through the damn want to drink.

-->

Harry waited for Hermione at the Andres'. He had told her that Luna would be happy to play host, as long as none of the Weasleys came. Hermione readily agreed to this, surprising both of them. He could tell there were parts that Hermione had left out about the Weasleys, parts that showed that things were not going as well for her as he thought.

“I'm here,” Hermione said. He looked at the entrance where Hermione was, currently holding Tommy upside down as both boys were giggling.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. He stopped spinning Tommy around and placed him back on the floor. Hermione had chosen to dress casually, wearing a conservative skirt and blouse for the evening. He honestly was wishing he had chosen to dress up a little more.

Setting Tommy on the floor, he walked over to her, despite the boys groans and complaints. “Ready?” Harry said. She nodded, smiling at him lightly.

“Harry where are you going again?” Shirley asked after sending the boys out of the room.

“To Luna's,” Harry said. He really did not want to say it, but he knew that what followed was necessary. “Then probably back to my flat.”

“Are you sure thats a good idea?” Harry did not miss the flicker of her eyes between him and Hermione. He sighed and opened his mouth to speak, but Chuck interrupted him.

“Love, he doesn't need a mother, he needs his friends,” Chuck said. Harry nodded in the man's direction. Chuck understood a lot of what Harry was going through, especially since he had told Harry his father had gone through the same problem. It was why Chuck understood him so well. “And he needs to be able to stand on his own. Without the help of anyone else for now.” Chuck's gaze had turned to Hermione, staring at her for a moment.

“Come on Hermione, we're going to have to head out if we want to make it there in time,” Harry said. He gave Shirley a tight smile before walking out the door, his hands in his pockets. Once at the curb, he took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. The hand on his shoulder let him ebb some of the anger, but he'd need to talk to Luna to get rid most of it. He knew they cared, but he needed to be on his own. Why did people not seem to understand that?

“How we getting there?” Hermione asked.

“Apparate,” Harry said with a shrug. “She's a bit of a distance, and its through some wards.”

“Harry, what kind of wards?” Hermione asked.

“Ones that restrict the entrance of certain people,” Harry said. “She's removed you from the list for now.”

“Why was I on that list?” At her question, Harry just shrugged his shoulders again.

“You're going to have to ask her that,” he said with a smile. “I just set up the wards.”

“Side-along then?” Hermione said, holding out her hand. He nodded, taking her hand in his own. “I'm ready when you are.” He pictured the space that Luna had designated and felt the squeezing sensation that accompanied him when he did this. Opening his eyes, he could not help but smile. Scotland was a bit out of the way from his station.

“Uncle Harry!” He turned in time to catch his niece. He swung her around, a smile plastered onto her face as she hugged his neck.

“How are you Mary?” he said, settling her onto his hip.

“Good, Mommy's in the other room, setting up lunch,” she said, staring at Harry before looking at Hermione. He turned and looked at her as well, not surprised at the young girl's face hiding in his neck.

“Now, you know better manners than that Marigold,” Luna said. Harry turned to look at her, smiling lightly. That last few years had been about as hard on her as they had been on him. She wore her pain a lot better then him, hiding it behind the mask that he knew she had. Harry put down Mary for a moment, before moving off to the side.

“Hello, my name is Marigold Lillian Lovegood, nice to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand for Hermione to take. Hermione snapped out of her shocked look and took the hand, shaking it gentle.

“My name is Hermione Jane Granger, nice to meet you,” Hermione said with a large smile.

“Mary, why don't you show Hermione your room,” Luna said. Hermione looked over at him for a moment questioning if that was what he wanted. He nodded with a smile. Mary had taken her hand and began to pull her in the direction of her room. Hermione seemed all to happy to go. Shaking his head, he turned to Luna, who quickly hugged him.

“You've been gone way to long, Mary was starting to worry,” Luna said. Harry hugged just as hard, happy to be back with his friend. They had a lot to talk about, and not much time. “You've looked better. You haven't.....have you?” Luna's eyes focused on him for a moment, and he shook his head, knowing that he had disappointed her a great deal when he had fallen off the wagon the first, well second time.

“Shirley was making a big deal of it,” Harry said. “Lets talk in the kitchen, little safer there.” He looked toward the bedroom, hoping that Hermione did not hear him. He moved in there before Luna could protest, sitting down in the center of her modest kitchen.

“What's the problem?” Luna asked.

“I'm moving back into my place again,” Harry said. Luna only nodded, her focus on something over his shoulder. He had known her long enough to know that her eccentric behavior was just how she coped with the world. Each had their own way. “I need to stand on my own again. I just feel too crowded there.”

“Harry, you and I both know that isn't the problem I was asking about,” Luna said with a small smile. She reached over and took his hand, giving it a small yet comforting squeeze.

“Moony got married,” he said. He might as well be blunt about it. “I thought I would have been invited to it, at least I hope I had.”

“But Molly must have taken over everything, right?” There was no love lost between Molly and Luna. Molly had treated her just as badly, if not more so than him. Harry nodded, letting Luna lean back and grow angry. “How dare she presume that she knows best?”

“Who Mommy?” Mary said as she entered with Hermione trailing behind her. Both had large smiles on her face.

“A woman that hurt Mommy and Uncle Harry deeply,” Luna said, moving toward the stove where something was cooking. “Now, you ready for your lunch?” Mary immediately sat in the seat next to Harry. Hermione stood, looking about trying to figure out what she should do. Harry took pity on here, standing from his seat.

“Come on, no reason to be shy,” he said, taking her hand. He led her to the seat next to him, where a smiling Mary proceeded to tell her all the wonders of one Harry Potter.

“Uncle Harry is the best uncle in the world did you know that?” Mary asked. He just smiled, used to hearing the praise from his niece.

“I've thought that a time or two myself,” Hermione said with a small smile, but a large blush.

“He got me this really pretty doll last Christmas, and he promised me that he'd take me to work with him one night,” Mary said. “He even promised to let me pick the songs.”

“Oh, really,” Hermione asked, looking over at Harry. He groaned, he hadn't told her what his job was, and now she'd be able to figure it out. Mary only nodded, eager to continue. Luna however managed to put that conversation on hold. A plate of tomato soup was placed in front of Mary, as well as a plate of grilled cheese.

Harry just smiled as a plate of the same was placed in front of him. While Luna was a good cook, when she was nervous, she had a hard time concentrating on just about anything. Simple was good for her.

“Luna, I wanted to apologize,” Hermione said after a few moments of silence. Luna looked at her, her focus upon her now. “I should have tried to stay in contact, and I lost two friendships from the same mistake. Just on different people.”

“Yes,” Luna said. “You did.” Hermione looked down at her plate, not eating for a moment. “But you are the only one who has made a move of reconciliation. That means more than you could know.” There was another pause as Mary got up from her seat, and moved into Luna's lap.

“Uncle Harry is really the only one who cares,” Mary said. “All of Mommy's friends left her. Were you a friend of my Mommy?”

“We weren't close, and we disagreed at time,” Hermione said. “But yes, I counted your mother as one of my friends.” Luna smile widely at this. “I'm just sorry I never told you that.”

“Its alright,” Luna said, waving her hand. Her focus has moved off them, and Harry knew that things would be okay for now.

“I also wanted to say that your articles are well done,” Hermione said. “You've done an excellent job researching something that I've never believed in and proving me wrong. Proving a lot of people wrong actually.” Luna looked ready to cry at this, as she hugged Mary even tighter to her chest. Harry took Hermione's hand in his own, giving her a smile. She was doing the right, making up for everything that she had done wrong.

“You don't know how much that means to me,” Luna said. “Every Ravenclaw was jealous of you, or at least admired you. Your compliments mean more than you could possible imagine.” Mary just smiled at this before going back to her seat. The rest of the conversation involved Luna and Hermione talking about Luna's newest research project, and getting Hermione's help for it.

By one, Mary was nodding off in her plate. Harry took it upon himself to set her down for her nap. And like every toddler, she was adamant about staying up for at least a little longer.

“I don't wanna go,” Mary said. Her arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him lightly. “I want to stay up and talk with Hermione.”

“Don't worry, we'll be here when you wake up,” Harry said. Laying her gently on her bed, he could not help but smile as she hugged the stuffed lion he had bought for her birthday last year.

“Uncle Harry?” He brushed a hair out of her face, kissing her forehead lightly. “Can you sing me a song?”

“Sure,” he said. “Which one you want?”

“My song,” Mary said with a sleepy smile. She yawned and took Harry's hand close to him. He never realized how small she was until right now. He knew that she was small for her age, through no fault of anyone, but as she held onto his hand, he felt a tug on his heart.

“Sure,” he said.

“Hush a bye, don't you cry. Go to sleep....my little baby,” he sang. She smiled and hugged his hand closer to her chest. “When you wake, you shall have... all the pretty little ponies. Into bed, Mama said. Baby's ridding off to dream land.”

“One by one, they've begun. Dance and prance for little baby.” Mary had relaxed her grip on his hand, but still he held her close. She was an important part of her life. He took his job as godfather very seriously. “Black and bays, dapples and grays. Running in the night. When you wake, you shall have, all the pretty little ponies.

“Can you see the pretty ponies, dance before your eyes?” There was nothing he would not do for her, and he never wanted to disappoint her. Ever. “All the pretty little ponies, will be there when you arrive.”

He stood up with a smile as she drifted off to sleep. He took her blanket and brought it up over her. “Sleep well.” he said. He turned off the lights and closed the door slightly. He wanted to hear if she woke up from a nightmare. Luna told him she didn't have them often, but he still felt better knowing that he could hear it if she did.

He stepped back into the living room, slightly surprised to see both of the women with tears in their eyes. He felt his cheeks warm up as he sat on the recliner that Luna had bought. Luna and Hermione both were sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in their hands.

“So Hermione, would you like to know why we really brought you here?” Luna asked. Harry groaned, he was hoping to put it off longer, and of course Luna decided to go the direct route.

“It would be nice,” Hermione said. “Not that I haven't enjoyed your company, but it seems like there are certain topics that you and Harry are avoiding like the plague.”

“Luna, I'll speak for us both, okay?” Harry said, sitting up. He took her hand, giving it a squeeze as her focus rested on him. “I know you can do it, but I'd rather talk, its easier for me, remember?” She nodded, her eyes staying focused on him.

“Hermione, what was your first impression of Mary?” Harry asked.

“She's one of the sweetest little girls I had the pleasure of meeting,” Hermione said. She appeared to be slightly confused by the question but continued on. “She has a little trouble focusing, but its the same as any child would. There aren't any problems with her are there?” Her tone of voice was panicking now. Harry just shook his head, his smile grim.

“There isn't a thing wrong with Mary,” Harry said. “But there were some problems before Mary was born.”

“Like what?” Hermione asked. Luna had tensed at this, closing her eyes tightly. Harry gave Hermione a nod as she took Luna's hand in her own.

“Love, he's gone, its not going to happen again,” Harry whispered as he caught the sight of tears on Luna's cheeks. He moved her over easily, letting her cry into his shoulder. Hermione refused to let go of her hand, and Harry could only smile at her. Luna needed to know there were more people that cared for her. He knew that this had been a good idea for her. “Do you still want me to tell her?” Luna pulled back from him, shaking her head.

“I'll do it,” she said. She took a deep breath, holding tightly to both of their hands. “About three years ago, I was walking home at night, because it was one of those spring nights that seems just right.” Hermione moved closer, but still held onto Luna's hand. “I was almost here, a couple blocks away when...” She paused here, taking in several deep breaths, holding onto both of their hands tightly. “He took me to the back of the alley.” Her face was now devoid of emotions, as if she was pushing them away. Harry knew otherwise. He had seen her like this before; she pushed everything aside so she could get the facts out. So she could get the facts straight. She had done the same thing when she was relating it all to the police, and she was doing it again. “He slapped me a couple times, telling me to shut up or he'd kill me.” Harry felt her hand squeeze his tightly, and he could only squeeze back. “He then threw me to the wall, and....” Her mouth opened and closed several times, as if she did not know the words to describe it. Maybe she did, or she could not bring herself to speak what happened to her again.

“Mommy?” They all frozen and Harry felt another piece of his heart break as Mary came walking over to them, her lion held tightly to her chest. “Are you okay?” Luna let go of their hands, and lifted Mary into her lap.

“I will be,” Luna said. Mary wrapped her arms around her mother's neck as she cried again. Harry looked over at Hermione, not surprised to see the tears in her own eyes. He gave her a sad smile before reaching over a squeezing her hand. She tried to return it, nearly succeeding as well. She nodded and got up from her seat, heading toward the kitchen.

“You take all the time you need, love,” Harry said. He leaned over, giving them a strong hug before standing up and kissing Luna's head lightly. He followed Hermione into the kitchen, not surprised to see her beginning to make a pot of tea.

“Does Luna have anything stronger?” Hermione asked, searching one of the cabinets. Harry could only smirk; Luna had thrown out all of the alcohol the minute he had gone to her flat drunk one night, and then forced him to go to AA.

“She hasn't for quite some time,” Harry said. “Why, you looking for some for yourself or her?”

“Myself,” Hermione admitted. She closed the cabinet door and stood up, leaning against the counter. Her back was to Harry, and he did everything in his power to not go over there and gather her in a hug. “How could someone do something like that to her?”

“There is evil in this world that you could never understand,” Harry said. “There is a darkness in us all, and it is what we let that darkness do to us that defines us.” He leaned against the table now, staring at Hermione as she tried to take everything in.

“What is your darkness Harry?” Hermione asked, turning around. Her tears were at bay, but not for long. There was a pain in her eyes that Harry knew to be guilt. He woke up with the same pain in his eyes for the last six years.

“You asked why Luna has no alcohol here, its the same reason that the Andres' don't have any in their house either,” Harry said, crossing his arms. “Me. I'm.....I'm an alcoholic.” He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. He had taken the first step. Admitting the problem. Admitting that he had a problem. What came next was not what he expected.

He nearly broke the table as he braced himself from Hermione's flying tackle. Despite being intimate with her, he was now under the current belief that she could not get any closer to him than she already was.

“You are not getting anyway until you tell me everything,” Hermione hissed into his ear. Harry flinched, the hot breath only making his resolve more difficult to hold onto.

“I would love to, if I could breath,” he said. He coughed a bit as she loosened the hold on his neck, yet did not let him go.

“Now, talk,” Hermione said. Harry smiled at her attempt to glare, but the tears prevented him from fearing her. The tears did however make him want to hold her even closer. And he did.

“I started drinking when I first left,” he said. “Nothing large, just something to make me feel that things weren't so bad. That I could get through it.

“Nights grew longer, and I started drinking sooner in the day. Luna knew, and tried to help. She really did a lot of the time. But most of the time, I'd come here, and I'd see the world of magic that had turned its back to me, and I couldn't take it. I had to leave. I stayed in contact with Luna, and helped her out the first few years. She turned over quite a bit of a profit for me.

“I went to Oxford, with some papers I had Professor McGonagall draw up for me. It kept my mind off of everything here, at least while I was in class or doing the work.” Harry leaned against the table, shifting slightly as it dug into his back. Hermione let go for a moment before forcing him into a chair. He wasn't too surprised when she climbed into his lap.

“You're not going anywhere until you finish,” she said. She wrapped her arms around his neck, almost snuggling into him as she relaxed. He pushed that thought aside, chalking Hermione's actions up to seeking comfort.

“When I wasn't working one my projects, I was out at a bar, drinking, trying to forget everything,” Harry said. “From Riddle, to what happened with you.” He sighed and turned his head away from her ear. Did she have to be so bloody close? “Especially what happened with you.”

“How long did this go on?” Hermione asked, not looking at him.

“It wasn't until I came here, once drunk that it finally stopped,” Harry said. “That was about year and a half ago. Luna told me that if I ever wanted to see my goddaughter again, I'd have to get clean.” With Hermione, telling her was so much easier than it had been at the AA meetings. He knew they would not judge him there, he knew that they would understand him there, but still... He always could talk to her about just about anything. Even his problems relating to her.

“I've been doing pretty good too, finished my degree, and then started working on my masters,” Harry said. “Keeping myself busy so I didn't have time to think about the drink. I even dated a bit.” He felt Hermione tense in his arms. She did nothing to get out of his lap though, if anything, she moved closer. “None of them ever worked out, my heart wasn't into it.” They sat there for a few moments, just holding onto each other. To Harry, it was as if she had never betrayed him. And maybe, as if he could learn to love her again. But could he trust her again?

“Did you have a relapse?” Hermione asked. She had pulled back to look at him, staring into his eyes. He turned away, not wanting to see the disappointment in her eyes as well. He had already gotten enough of that from Luna.

“Yeah, twice,” Harry said. “The first time was right after I had started the program. Everyone was actually really supportive at the meeting. Said the first day was the hardest. It was.”

“And the second time?” she asked.

“About two weeks ago.” he said, trying to hide the pain from the still close experience.

“When you first saw me?” Hermione asked. There were tears in her eyes again as he nodded. She buried her head into his neck, muttering apologies to him between her tears. He tried to reassure her, yet found that his words fell on deaf ears. He finally had to pull back, knowing that was the only way to get her to listen.

“I forgive you,” Harry said to her softly. Her eyes shot up to meet his, surprise still in them.

“Really?” she asked, drying her eyes. Harry smiled when she didn't realize she was using his shirt.

“I wouldn't have agreed to this if I didn't,” he said honestly. She smiled again, before surprising him once more.

She hopped off him after she kissed him on the cheek, a shy smile on her face. “Would you like to know what's been going on?” At this she had diverted her eyes from him, and only then Harry saw Luna in the room. He wasn't surprised to see the small glare on her face directed at Hermione. Luna had become fiercely protective of him. She refused to print any rumors about him, and that was the only reason Witch Weekly was still in business; it was because they would.

“That would be nice,” Luna said, sitting down at the table next to Harry. She took his hand before glaring at her. “Did Harry explain his own problems?” Hermione turned away at this, and brought a hand up to her eyes. Harry knew she was brushing away some tears, her eyes still red when she turned back to look at them. She just nodded before taking the other seat next to him.

“I first off want to apologize to you both,” Hermione said. “I should have stayed in contact with both of you, or at least tried harder. I chose the easier of two roads and now I'm paying for it.” She paused and took a breath. Harry shook his head, leaning back in his chair. There was a lot going on that she did not want him to know about.

“I guess I should start at the top, with Mr. And Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said. “Mr. Weasley has been fine, and trying to control his wife, but Mrs. Weasley has taken it upon herself to insure that her ideals of a perfect family are met. Especially for her youngest. Ginny is an angel to her, and can't do anything wrong. Even she is tired of the treatment.”

“Sounds like she's lost it,” Harry said with a smile. He knew Luna was smiling as well; Molly had been a part of both of their exiles and a fair share of their pain.

“She has,” Hermione said. “Bill and Fleur are expecting their second, and Molly is harping on them. Charlie is still a bachelor, but Fleur told me that there is a girlfriend he is hiding.”

“From the twins?” Luna asked. Hermione shook her head with a sad smile.

“From his mother,” Hermione said. “Everyone has just accepted that Mrs. Weasley is right, no matter what.”

“Well look at what her 'right' way has done to the two of us?” Harry said, becoming angrier with the matriarch of the Weasley family.

“Its done more than that Harry,” Hermione said. She folded her hands and looked down at them. “After you left, she was pushing Ron to marry.” Harry heard a snap and felt something sharp pierce his hands as he gripped the table. He had managed to snap off a bit of the table and now had it stuck through his hands. He removed them carefully before Hermione charmed the pain away, letting Luna wrap them up. He gave them both smiles as he nodded toward Hermione continue.

He didn't like the fact that Ron wanted to marry Hermione. No matter how much he had told himself over the years, he wasn't over her. Her return only cemented that in his mind. And it made the pain he felt even worse.

“So what happened?” Harry asked. He swallowed the bile that came with those words, though he knew that he had nothing to be angry about. Not any more. That anger made him into a man he did not like, a man he hated.

“I finally told him yes,” Hermione said. She did not make eye contact with him, instead finding the table interesting. “It was not one of my finer moments, I'm ranking it right below when I betrayed you. But he was all I had left.” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading him not to be angry with him. The guilt hung in her eyes like the tears she had cried. “His mother took over everything, wouldn't let me make a single decision, saying that 'I didn't know how to plan a proper wizarding wedding.'” Harry wasn't too surprised to see Hermione angry, and he knew that the anger was still there as she shook her head, continuing. “Ron wasn't much better, he kept siding with her and pushing me to have sex with him again, despite me telling him I didn't want to.” Harry wasn't sure what his heart was doing, flopping on the ground like a fish came to mind as it tried to jump at the sound of her not wanting to sleep with Ron, and it collapsed at the thought of Ron sleeping with Hermione. “Our fights were getting worse too. It seemed like everything was a problem for him. I finally told him that if he wanted to marry a girl, he'd have to stop turning her into his mother. Threw the ring in his face, hexed his arse, then kicked him out of my flat.” Harry could not help the laugh that came out. Even Luna let out a small chuckle. Hermione smiled through her tears.

“What hex?” Harry asked, happy to see the smile on her face.

“I didn't let him stay long enough to figure out which one actually hit him,” Hermione said with a sheepish grin. Harry chuckled loudly, as Luna giggled next to him.

“When was this?” Luna asked.

“A little over a month ago,” Hermione said. Harry felt his body stiffen at this. She had first called his show over a month ago, asking to talk to him. “It finally was too much for me. I had to end it.”

“How did Ron take it?” Harry asked. He was trying to keep his voice level, but he did not want her to know of his program.

“As good as could be expected I guess,” Hermione said. “I haven't talked with anyone but Ginny and Bill. Fleur and I were really close to begin with. All of them understand what happened, and they've tried to help me, but Mrs. Weasley has decided I've betrayed her as well...” Her voice trailed off here, there was more to it, yet he doubted if he would be able to know until they returned. If they returned.

“No wonder Ron is the way he is,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Look who his role model was. Take everything personally, and get angry. Sounds like Molly to me.”

“I almost feel sorry for Arthur,” Luna said. “Has Ronald gotten worse since....?”

“Yes, his complaints to his mother are really the reason why I'm not welcome as much as I am anymore,” Hermione said. “I've been over there a few times, yet left early. Fleur isn't welcome any more than I am, and she's even told me that the only reason that she's tolerated is because Molly wants grandchildren.”

“You think Bill and Fleur would like to come and visit?” Luna offered. Harry gave her a smile, knowing that she and Fleur had talked during the Tournament, yet hadn't since then. Fleur had been a bit of a friend to her during that year, and seeing her again might do Luna some good.

“I think they'd like that, Ginny might come as well,” Hermione offered.

“If she apologizes, she can,” Luna said. She took Harry's hand in her own, squeezing it. Hermione nodded, smiling lightly. “But just them for now, if that's alright.”

“No, that's more than I expected,” Hermione said. “You've both been so kind to me, and I really haven't done much to deserve it, from either of you.”

“All I ever wanted was an apology,” Luna said. “You gave me that. I have too much in my life that matters to me to not forgive you.”

“Uncle Harry?” He turned to see the little image of Luna walking into the room. He easily lifted her into his lap, letting her settle there. “What are you talking about?”

“Just solving a few problems,” Harry said as she took his hands to wrap them around her stomach. “And catching up on what Hermione has been doing.”

“Oh, is Aunt Mione staying?” Luna and Harry shared a look of shock. Mary was very restrictive on who she let in. One day here, and Hermione was already let into the little girl's heart.

“That I believe is up to her,” Luna said. Mary turned and stared at Hermione, pouting almost.

“I'd love to,” Hermione said. Mary threw herself at Hermione, the smile plastered on both of their faces. Harry could not help but laugh lightly. Mary was never outgoing, and had very few friends. Now she had one more.

Harry could not help but think that things might work out in the end. He might be able to fully turn around his life after all.

I0I

Harry couldn't remember a time when he saw so many people proud of him. He had just walked across the stage in at Oxford, in the cap and gown he was required to wear. He had graduated with his Masters, now, onto his Doctorate. He had already been accepted into Oxford, and he knew that it would be a longer haul then the last, but right now, that didn't matter.

The ceremony was over, and he as standing with Luna and Mary. And Hermione. After he had told her about graduating soon, she had begged him to let her attend. Now that she was here, he couldn't think of anyone else that he wanted here.

The last few weeks were rough, for them all. Harry had found that once he had told Hermione of his problem, she felt guilt unlike he had ever seen in someone. Well, except himself, but that was different. Even the Wizarding psychiatrists seemed to agree that he should feel some guilt over what had happened to him. It was his choice that killed nearly forty people. They called it survivor's guilt. A natural part of life. He agreed, that was no doubt. But it didn't make the pain any lighter.

No, Hermione's pain seemed centered around how she had failed him. And while he wouldn't argue that she didn't, he had failed her too in a way. But she needed to accept that sometimes failure happens. He was trying to at least.

“I'm so proud of you,” Luna said as she wrapped him in a hug. “You have any time off, between school and your job?”

“A little, but I've got nothing planned.” Harry looked over at Hermione as she and Mary were talking in hushed voices. Mary was so much like her mother, in touch one moment, and out of touch the other. And Hermione seemed to be getting into the same act. Such were the woman in his life.

“Hermione told me that Remus and Tonks want to see you,” Luna said.

“If they really had wanted to, they would have contacted me themselves,” Harry said. “They have to make the first move, much like Hermione did.”

“What'd I do?” Hermione asked as she and Mary walked up.

“Make amends,” Harry said. “Now, we've got enough time for us to head out for dinner before I've got to go to work.” Checking his watch, he didn't notice the questioning look Hermione sent him until he looked up.

“Where do you work?” Hermione asked.

“He works for the radio station,” Mary said. Harry turned away and let out a groan. This was definitely not the way he thought it was going to happen. “He's got this really cool show that plays for people who have been hurt. Mum's listens to it all the time, when she doesn't think I'm listening.” Harry looked over at Luna, just as surprised at Mary's words.

“You're still playing the hero Harry,” Luna said with a tearful smile.

“What's your call name Harry?” Hermione asked. She tried to glare at him, but he could only smile. She had already figured it out, or at least the most important parts.

“You should know that by now Hermione,” Harry said. “The brokenhearted call me up when they don't know what else to do.” He gave her a half-hearted smile, knowing that she was growing more and more angry with him.

The sting across his face meant that she had figured it out and slapped him for it. Not that he didn't deserve it. “You knew I had called you and you said nothing?” She was crying, not a good thing for him. Before, he never could handle a crying Hermione.

“What did you want me to say to you?” Harry asked. He kept his voice level, not really angry with her, though he knew she was with him. “'Hey, my name's Harry Potter, and my girlfriend cheated with my best friend in my bed. That's why I've got this show to help me work out the problems.'” He turned away at this, knowing that she really could never understand what he had gone through after she had called the first time.

“You could have told me the truth,” Hermione snapped back.

“When did I lie to you? When?” Harry said, turning back. “I never once said something that was false about my job or the interactions that it caused.” Hermione stood there for a few moments, her mouth moving like a fish's, trying to come up with some response. “Look, if you want to believe that I did something wrong, then fine, believe that. As for me, I'm out of here.” He turned to Luna, looking at her for a moment before kneeling next to Mary. “Love, I'm not going to be able to make it for lunch, but I promise you, I'll always be there for you.”

He could not hold back the smile on his face as Mary hugged him tightly. She kept whispering apologies in his ear, like it was here fault for what happened between him and Hermione. Kissing Mary's cheek, he lifted her up off the ground as he stood.

“Its not your fault,” he said softly to her.

“But you two are meant for each other,” Mary whispered back. “I know, I can see it.” She said with the wisdom of a three-year-old. He was shocked, but just smiled.

“I thought so too for a while,” he said, kissing her lightly upon her cheek again. He said his goodbyes to both her and Luna. Hermione was long gone, having stomped off after he began to ignore her. They both needed to cool off before he talked again. He just hoped that she didn't go running back to Ron.

“She's sure using up a lot of second chances,” Luna said. She had just stood to the side, and only now was commenting on the fight. Harry tried to smile, but the pain in his chest was just too great.

“Yeah,” he said. “I really don't know if I've got it in me to keep fighting Luna.” He looked back at where Hermione disappeared from, missing the tears that fell from Luna's cheeks. He was just too tired of fighting for something that didn't seem worth it anymore. Kissing her cheek once more and giving Mary one more hug, he left them, heading off to visit his parents. They couldn't tell him what to do, but maybe talking with them might help.

-->

Harry didn't go into work that day, or the next for that matter. He had called in and begun to move all of his things out of his flat, and back into Godric's Hollow, his parents home. He had finally rebuilt it and felt that it would be a good place to raise a family. If he ever managed to settle down.

The Wizarding World was up in arms that he had moved back, their first real Potter sighting in ages. They would have swarmed his new home, had he not hidden his home under the Fidelius. Now he could relax a bit, away from everyone and try to work out his problems. Rocking in a chair on his front porch, he watched the sun set, trying to read through his book on PTSD.

“I'm not surprised,” Harry finally commented as he heard the heavy footsteps approach with a pair of lighter ones. “Luna tell you where to find me?”

“No, she's quite upset with us,” the man said. “We wanted to-”

“Save it,” Harry said. He looked up at the faces of the Lupins, well Lupin and Tonks. He wasn't quite sure that she had taken his name.

“That's quite rude Harry,” Tonks said.

“So is not inviting me to the wedding of my father's best friend,” Harry said. He dropped his gaze back to his book.

“Harry, we're-” Tonks started then stopped. He looked back up them, trying to not look hurt. When it really did. A lot.

“We wanted you to come Harry,” Lupin said.

“Then I would have gotten an invitation, but I didn't and that's okay, people change,” Harry said. He marked the page and stood up. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“What do you have?” Tonks responded first.

“Not much,” Harry said. He gave them a sad smile before motioning them in. He believed in forgiveness above all else. People just had to admit when they were wrong, including himself.

Getting them both butterbeers and himself a lemonade, he sat down in his den, letting them take the love chair as he took the one next to his fireplace. “So what brings you here?” Harry said.

“We want to apologize,” Lupin said.

“We've already established that,” Harry said. He looked between the two of them. “Now, I want to know why after all this time you decide to apologize.” He took the moment of silence to push out any questions in regards to Hermione.

“Hermione came to us, saying that we had to make the first step,” Tonks said. Harry just nodded, knowing that she would have. “We were planning on inviting you Harry, then Molly took over everything. I only found out after the wedding that you didn't get an invitation, we thought you just didn't reply.”

“If you had wanted me there, I would have gone,” Harry said.

“We did want you to come Harry,” Tonks said. He stared at her, failing to see how she missed his logic.

“Then you would have contacted me yourself, instead of relying on someone else to send out the invitations, relying on someone else to get my correspondence,” Harry said.

“Everyone just thought you needed some time Harry to work things through,” Lupin said. Harry leaned back in his chair, looking over his hands as he held them in fisted front of him. He didn't say anything, instead waiting for Lupin to continue. Much easier to listen to Hermione. Now was not the time for that voice to talk to him though. He just stared at Lupin, while he pushed away his conscience. “We....I thought you still weren't over Hermione.”

“Lupin,” Harry said. He didn't mean for his voice to be as rude as it was, but the flinch in both of them made him pause. “I am not and may never be over her. But that has nothing to do with your lack of trust in me.

“All I wanted was to know that there were people there to help me get through the problems in my life.” Harry stood from his seat, moving to the fireplace where a picture of his parents rested on the mantel. “These last six years have only led me to believe what I learned at the Dursley's to be true. I can only trust myself. Even then not much.” He looked back at them, trying to remain calm. “I lost everyone I ever cared about, and you know the only person that even came looking for me was Luna. That she was the only person that cared enough to find me and make sure I was alright.”

“Harry, we-” Lupin started, but stopped at Tonks's hand on his arm.

“We all were doing what we thought was best for you, but we never talked to you about it,” she said.

“Yeah, lot of good that did anyone,” Harry said. He turned away, wiping the tears from his eyes. He could still remember those empty nights where the cold seeped through the covers, past his skin, even the person he was fucking at the time, and into him. He wasn't going to take that anymore.

“We did try to find you Harry, but you didn't want to be found,” Tonks said.

“Who looked for me? I've been enrolled at Oxford for the last six years,” Harry said. “Did anyone bother asking Minerva where I could possibly be? She knew, helped set up the scholarship for me.”

“We all looked for you Harry,” Lupin said, growing angry with him. The lycanthropy had slowed in the last years, a development from Hermione in the Wolfsbane potion. Yet that did not tame the beast that was within him.

“Then who talked to her? Who asked her where I was?” Harry said. “Ron? Hermione?” Harry glared down the older man, forcing him back into the love seat next to Tonks. “Did anyone bother to corroborate the story, or just accept it for face value?”

“Ron was the one who spent the most time out looking for you, he left days on end to look for you,” Lupin said. Tonks was looking at her feet now, being to look ashamed at their actions. Lupin still had a bit to go before he got there.

“The only thing Ron has done for me in the last six years is force me to leave the world that I saved because he could not handle his wants and insecurities, and he needed other people to do that for him,” Harry said. “He got drunk with Hermione, slept with her, in my bed no less, and then used his mother to force everyone against me. Just so he could get what he wanted.”

“Harry, it wasn't like that,” Lupin said.

“Then what is it like?” Harry countered. “Explain to me how it all went down because apparently, I'm missing a piece of the puzzle.”

“Ron said he talked to her,” Tonks said. “None of us bothered to ask again after that. Or even to check with her.”

“Well, there you go,” Harry said, sitting back in his chair. “Then it is possible that Ron really never talked to Minerva, and that she did know where I was.” Once again Tonks stopped Lupin from speaking.

“You're right Harry,” she said. Both him and Lupin looked at her, surprised. He wasn't expecting that so soon. “Out of everything we did, we should have still talked to you. Instead of waiting for you to talk to us.”

“That is one of the biggest problems people have with friends who are mentally troubled,” Harry said. “They wait for that person to admit the problem, instead of addressing it themselves. Thinking it will be better for them. But it isn't. I needed help, and no one was offering it. I needed friends that supported me, and while you all had the best intentions with leaving me on my own, that only made things worse.” He looked out the window, where he knew Luna and Mary would be arriving up the road when they came for dinner. “The way to hell is paved with the best intentions, which is why I needed to leave. Because everyone's best intentions were killing me.”

“I know Harry,” Tonks said. He gave her a sad smile; she did understand. He had read about how Law Enforcement officials often fail to communicate their emotions about the job outside of anyone who had ever experienced it. While he doubted she understood everything that he felt, Tonks did at least have an idea of what he was feeling.

“Can I offer you some dinner? Luna's joining me, and I think you two owe her an apology as well,” Harry said. He held up his hand stopping them from speaking. “While you may not have been friends with her, it doesn't mean she didn't value your opinions. If you want the truth, she helped me because she recognized the problem with me and tried to solve it. I'm not saying that it worked but more than anything, I appreciate her effort.”

“We'd like to stay Harry,” Tonks said, again answering for her and Lupin. He nodded before standing up.

“Feel free to look around,” Harry said. “Just don't go into the master bedroom please.” He gave them a smile before walking into the kitchen. He figured the two of them needed to talk between themselves for a while and seemed like it was time to start that roast of his he was going to make for the evening.

“We having company tonight?” Harry turned to see Luna holding Mary's hand as she entered from the kitchen back door.

“Remus and Tonks stopped by,” he said, moving away from the potatoes he had been cutting up. Mary looked up at her mother once before taking off and wrapping her arms around his legs.

“That was nice of them,” Luna said. After he lifted Mary off the ground, he walked over to her. Kissing her cheek, he could not help but see a little worry in her eyes.

“What's wrong?” Harry said. She looked like she could break down any minute. “Mary, you want to go play for a little bit?”

“Can I play castle?” She asked excitedly. Harry could not help the smile that formed. He had made up a room for any of the kids that came that visited, or when he had them. Right now it was only Mary, but he was happy with that.

“Sure,” he said, letting her down as she took off up the stairs to the room. He turned back to Luna, motioning for her to take a seat. He moved his chair next to hers, trying to off as much comfort as he could. “What's wrong?” He waved his hand, letting the magic completely the meal for him. It may not be as good as when he cooked, but they'd all be fine with what they got.

“I saw Ronald today,” Luna said. She took his hand in hers holding onto it tightly with both hers.

“What did he do?” He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but Harry felt that whatever Ron did to warrant Luna's tears, Ron deserved a beating for.

“He walked up to me, asked me how I was doing,” Luna said, trying to dry her eyes with handkerchief. “He started to hit on me, like he wanted to go out with me.”

“What did you say?” Harry asked. Luna had long held a crush on Ron, but it was dying over the years. He just hoped that Ron didn't hurt her too badly. Because he'd climb back out of hell to drag Ron down with him again.

“I didn't get the chance,” Luna said. Harry took the handkerchief from her, dabbing her eyes. “Mary came around the corner, and he saw her.” He took her into a hug, pulling her as close as he could. She broke down, leaning into him. He vaguely waved his hand behind him, letting the meal continue making itself. “He just left.”

“It sounds like Ron may never be ready for responsibility.” Harry began to rub her back gently. They sat like that for a few moments until Luna sat back, smiling lightly.

“You going to talk to Hermione?” Luna asked. Harry nearly fell out of his chair. To say the question surprised him was an understatement.

“I wasn't planning on it,” Harry said honestly. “At least in the near future.” He let go of her hand, standing back up to finish the meal. “I didn't realize I needed to apologize for my actions.”

“I never said that, though that might not be a bad idea,” Luna said. Harry shook his head, knowing better than to argue with her. He never won an argument with Luna, especially when it came to women. “She'd like a chance to explain her self.”

“She knows where to find me,” Harry said. He kept his voice neutral, leaving the pain out of it.

“She said you forgave her, but I don't think you have,” Luna said. “I think a part of you still hates her.” He stopped, frozen at her words. “You can't let go of her one moment of weakness.”

“It was not one moment, it was six years,” Harry said. He wanted to be angry, but he never could with Luna. Somehow, she saw through him. Like Hermione used to be able to do. He pushed that thought out of his mind, choosing to concentrate on what was happening now.

“Maybe, but still, she failed you, and you were hurt, wouldn't you like to know why?” Luna asked.

“She already told me why,” Harry said.

“No, she told you how it happened, she never said why.” Her voice was calm, and Harry gripped the edge of the counter, trying to remain that calm. “She talked to me as well. She just wants to talk to you. And I think you should.” He turned to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. He took several deep breaths to calm down.

“I don't know if I can again,” Harry said. He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the counter. “Its not as easy as everyone thinks, this day by day stuff.” He had talked about this before with Luna, but he knew that the demons would still haunt him. “What makes it worse though, is knowing she is back in my life, and I don't know what to do about it. I've got no control over it?” He looked away, out the window above his sink. He was going to start working on the garden after some time during the next week. “The drink was something I was in control of, you know, it was something I could take when I wanted, and how much I wanted. This, this all scares me shitless.”

“I'm sorry, are we interrupting anything?” Harry looked over to see Tonks and Lupin standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Harry shook his head, looking over his shoulder at the meal. Everything was set.

“Luna, can you get Mary for me?” She nodded, standing up from her seat. She brushed past Tonks and Lupin without a hello, not even looking at them. Once she was gone, Harry looked at them. “I suggest apologizing to her when she gets back. If you two are going to be apart of my life again, you have to accept that she is a large part of it.” Lupin nodded, but did not say anything. “Lets head to the dinning room, I've got the table set up already.” He led them there, knowing that they would be asking him several questions shortly.

“Are you two dating?” Tonks got out before they had even reached the room. Harry shook his head, smiling slightly.

“We tried it, and that didn't work,” Harry said. He heard Mary plowing down the stairs and turned to catch her as she launched herself into his arms. “Things are a little more complicated then that.” Mary looked out from his neck at Tonks and Lupin before hiding again. “Mary, I'd like to introduce you to some of my old friends. Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin and Remus Lupin.”

“Hi,” she said, looking out for a second before hiding again.

“She's a little shy,” Harry said. He waved his hand toward the kitchen, letting the meal float its way into the room. “Please take a seat.” He sat down at the head of the table, letting Mary sit next to him. Tonks sat down next to Mary, much to both Luna and Harry's surprise. He shrugged his shoulders as Luna sat next to him. Lupin took his seat across from Tonks, before looking at Harry.

“I want to apologize,” he started, “I judged you how I thought you should act. Before I knew everything that was going on.”

“What is going on?” Harry asked, taking a sip from his water. He watched as Tonks changed her hair color and length for Mary, causing the little girl to squeal with delight. He remembered a similar scene with Tonks, Ginny and Hermione from his fifth year. Shaking the thought out of his head, he nodded for Lupin to continue.

“Molly has changed, the war changed us all I guess,” Lupin said. Harry began to pass around the meal, a distracting action at most, but welcome nonetheless. “She's working hard to get her family the way she wants it to be. And when it doesn't happen, everyone pays the price for it. Arthur I think has given up trying to rein her in.”

“Why doesn't anybody stand up to her?” Harry asked. He held up his hand, knowing the question was stupid. “You end up like me, outside the “family.” Sounds like the mob.” Lupin snorted at this, nodding his head.

“Might as well be,” he said.

“We'd like to catch up on everything with you, if that's alright?” Tonks asked. Harry nodded, placing some food onto Mary's plate. She scowled, at the peas, pushing them away from the mashed potatoes he had just put on there. Harry gave her a look before Tonks's face shown with thought. “Luna, we're sorry that we pushed you out of our lives. We didn't know our opinions mattered to you.”

“Everyone's opinions matter, its just the idea that some are more important than others that causes problems between people,” Luna said. Harry gave her a sad smile before squeezing her hand. He nodded to Tonks, knowing that Luna had accepted the apology in her own way.

He let the conversation settle into a comfortable silence, with news being related about their lives floating back and forth, here and there between bites. He didn't mean for his mind to wonder to Hermione, in fact he had specifically told it not to, but it did. And now that it had, he could not help but worry if Luna was right. Did he truly forgive her?

I0I

“Its Mister Midnight, alone and blue,” Harry said softly into the microphone. “The brokenhearted call me up, when they don't know what else to do. Every song is a reminder of a love, they once knew. I'm Mister Midnight, can I play a song for you?”

It was now a month after Hermione walked out of his life, again. He still worked at the station, though he cut back his hours. He didn't feel the need to go on so often. He switched from the weekday evenings to the weekend, working only Friday through Saturday. Moved Chuck onto a daytime show, which made Shirley happy to no end. He still had dinner with them, and stopped in every now and then to see how Chuck was doing on the show. Kids missed him, but that was life.

Luna and Mary were doing fine, meeting regularly with Bill and Fleur. Mary was getting along great with their son, Glenn, which only caused Luna to reconcile with Bill faster. Fleur and Luna hit it off like nothing had happened between them, which Harry realized that nothing wrong did happen between them.

He hadn't signed up for the next set of courses, choosing to take some time off before he went for his doctorate. He wanted some time to himself, and to work on getting everything set in his life. He spent too much time trying to hid everything that he now just wanted to work on it.

He ran the show now by himself for the most part, beyond the tech support he got. It was more difficult at first, and it took a while for his regulars to adjust, but in the end, it made things easier for him.

“Hello darling, you on the air,” he said, picking up the caller on line three. So his night started. He looked up, slightly surprised to see Chuck standing in the doorway. Setting up his next round of songs, Harry took off the set of headphones he used. “What's up?” While it wasn't uncommon for Chuck to stop in on him either, he had thought that Chuck and Shirley were spending the night together.

“Got a caller out here, said you promised a face to face mediation if her apology didn't work out,” Chuck said. He moved into the room, letting Hermione walk in after him. Her face was downcast, he could not see her, but when she glanced up with a small smile, he could see there had been tears in her eyes. He turned back to the screen in front of him, Whiskey Lullaby was next. How appropriate.

Enough was enough. He was tired of being the good guy, hiding his anger. Maybe if he let it out, to where some of it belonged, he might be able to move on. He turned off the microphone, offering a seat to her. She took it, but he did not meet her gaze. His was locked on Chuck.

“We'll talk about this later,” he told the older man.

“Harry, we're just-” Harry glared at him, knowing that Chuck thought he was helping. Chuck let out a sigh and left them, closing the door behind him.

“You're angry,” Hermione said. He nodded, his eyes going to the CD racks. “You going to yell at me.”

“I learned a long time ago that yelling never solves anything,” Harry said. “That I can be mad and not raise my voice.” He left out that it hurts worse, but he figured she already knew that.

“Now, I know you want to say something,” Harry said. He got out of his chair moving over to the racks of CDs. He pulled out a box set of Merle, opening it and starting at its contents. “But its going to have to wait a moment. I've got my share to say first.” She nodded as he took the box set back to his seat before taking out the glass and the full bottle of Jack. He sat them on the desk, ignoring her gasp for a moment. “You've known me long enough to know that I like to hide my emotions. Whether burying them in myself or the bottle, that was what I did. You had all the answers. That's what you did.

“But times change, people change, I've changed,” Harry said. He spun the bottle in his hands for a moment before letting it settle. “I no longer hide my problems like that, I'm trying to address them, head on. So that's what this is going to be about. My problems, not yours right now, mine. I think I can be selfish for once.” He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. He tried not to smile as he looked at her for a moment. She wasn't looking at him, her eyes glued to some spoke on the floor. With a sigh, he continued.

“I want to know why, why you decided what we had wasn't good enough, why I wasn't good enough,” Harry said. “I've spent a lifetime with people wanting me to be someone I'm not, including myself, so that's understanding if you never did love me. That I wasn't what you wanted. But I don't think that was the case. Or rather, I choose not to believe that was the case.” He surprised himself with how even his voice was, but his eyes never left the bottle. “I've come to a conclusion though, one logical and painful.”

“I hate myself,” he said. He paused here. He felt outside his body as his hand went up and wrapped around the bottle. “I hate the fact that I can't get up in the morning without wanting a drink. I hate that I want that drink in the first place, knowing that it is going to kill me. I hate that my life is at the point where I know I need to move on in it, but I can't. I hate that my family abandoned me, and that I did not have the stones to walk back. I hate that I can't go a day without thinking about how I pushed you to your decision.” With his other hand, he felt himself wipe away the tears on his face.

“I hate every day, because I know its one without any hope for me in it. I hate the sun because it shines when I want it to rain, so I can cry and no one will see. I hate who I've become, and who I was.” He opened the bottle and filled it to the brim. He watched the amber fall and swirl in the glass. He could feel the fire burning down his throat just staring at glass. “I hate how I can't spend a day without thinking of you. Most of all, I hate that I never stopped loving you, despite all you have done to me.” He didn't know how long they sat there, but he finally spoke again.

“But now, I've got two choices for you.” He looked at her this point, his eyes tearing away from the bottle. “I got go on in my life, and you can go on yours. This would constitute you leaving and me drinking this bottle. Or, we could try something else. You tell me why you did this. And don't give me this crap that you were drunk, don't tell me that. You are a better person than that, better than me. So tell. I want to know. Why did you crush me like that?” He didn't realize that his voice had rose in volume, only at the end when he finally had to sit back down.

“I don't know what to tell you Harry,” Hermione said. Her voice was so small, and she looked like it as she sat in the chair. “I...I....” She hadn't brought her gaze up to his since she entered. He took the glass before holding it out to her. She looked up at him, questioning him.

“I'm not giving you a choice.” His voice was calm again. “I want to know why you did what you did.” She took the glass, holding it though. She didn't drink from it.

“Back when we were living together,” Hermione started. “I don't know when it started, but it had to be when you started working nights. Ron would come over, and we'd talk, just talk.” She took a drink at this point and shudder as it went down. “How could you drink this stuff?” She asked. Harry chuckled lightly at her disgusted look. She blushed and chanced a look up before resuming her gaze on the floor.

“It felt nice, to be with someone who I could talk to, like how it was for us, we'd talk about everything, and anything,” Hermione said. “He listened to me, which I know you did too, but at the time, it just surprised me more. I expected it from you, and took you for granted. With Ron, it seemed like this whole new side of him, that he shared just with me.” She mumbled the last part into the glass as she took another drink.

“What was that?” Harry asked. He leaned forward, glancing at the play list as he did so. Mad World was next.

“It made me feel special,” she said, looking ashamed. He fell back, as if slapped. The one and only thing he ever tried to do for Hermione was make her feel special. “It was nothing you did Harry, I promise you that.”

“Doesn't change the fact,” he muttered. He thought back, trying to find a time when he may have messed. An anniversary he forget, a birthday he missed. None. “You just talked?”

“Yeah, that's how it started, we talked, went out sometimes, sometimes we stayed in. We watched a movie from time to time,” Hermione said. Harry stood up, beginning to pace the small room. She may have kept talking, but he didn't hear her.

“He was dating you, while you were my girlfriend,” Harry muttered.

“No, Harry it wasn't like that, really, we were just friends,” Hermione pleaded with him. He didn't notice her, trying to piece everything together.

The nights he'd get back from work early, and they'd be out. Oh, they left a note, saying they just went out for drinks. Or the time he found them on the couch, watching some movie. He was too tired to notice, but they were awful close together. How could he have been so blind?

He looked at the bottle on the desk and walked over to it, taking it before walking out the door. He was done, he didn't care anymore. He looked back at the room where Hermione still sat and ran a hand through his hair. He turned back to the hallway, before walking down it. He didn't want to hear anymore.

“Harry, please, say something, anything,” Hermione begged. She had caught up with at the end of hallway.

“What do you want me to say?” Harry asked. He kept his back to her, not wanting her to see him like this. Not wanting her to see the tears she caused, though he knew she deserved to be hurt for what she did. “You were dating him while with me, you cheated on me.”

“No, I didn't, it wasn't like that,” Hermione pleaded. It sounded like she was crying, but he didn't want to look back.

“What you say, and what you did are too completely different things,” Harry kept his voice level. He could see the next cleaning staff coming by with a large garbage can. “I guess I just wasn't special enough.” He said as he walked in front of the janitor.

He dropped the bottle into the trash can, never looking back at Hermione as he stepped into the elevator. He didn't want to see her tears. And more importantly, he didn't want her to see his.

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Harry had gotten home that night relatively easily. It was when he sat in the chair in his den, staring into the dying embers of the fire, did he let it all hit him. He did not know what to do anymore.

He sat there, staring at the fire until it died away. Then he just sat there. His body did not want to move, he did not want to move.

He wasn't special enough. The Dursleys were right. He was a freak. Not good at anything. Not special enough.

The image of Ron and Hermione sitting in his flat on a date scarred him. He could not get it out of his mind. It was almost worse than the image of them on his bed. On their bed. Almost

The sun rose, and began to set as he sat there. He was supposed to go into work. He just could not find the motivation to stand up, let alone go to work. As the sun set, the fire started up again. It took the place of the images that were burned onto his mind. He was thankful for that. He felt sad to see it go as the sun began to rise again.

It must be nice to rise and set, without a worry or care. Sure, sometimes a blue moon comes along, and things get a little cloudy. But you're still up, moving and trying to get on with your life. Rain, sleet, or snow, the sun always rises, and the sun always sets. Sometimes you can't see it. But its there, going on no matter what. It must be nice.

The sun must have set one more time before he felt someone's hand on his shoulder. He looked up and gave Luna sad smile. “I just wasn't special enough.” He was glad he got that out before he felt the tears begin to fall.

He wrapped his arms around her, awkwardly hugging her as he began to cry. She soothed him, whispering into his ear as he cried. When he finally let go, he felt himself being lifted into the air. Someone was levitating him, He wanted to look around and see who it was, he really did. But as the fire died out again, he realized that the fire was really lucky.

At least someone wanted it every now and again.

I0I

It was several weeks before they (Luna, Remus and Tonks) could get him to talk again. They moved him up to his room, and tried to help him as best as they could. Someone must have talked to Hermione since they seemed to give him some space. Well, they did, with the exception of Mary.

They got him to eat a little, which surprised them. He didn't each much and what he did wasn't too healthy either, just porridge. He could still feed himself, but for the most part, he spent his days staring out the window and nights into the fire.

They comforted him, the fire and sun. Constants. They did not disappoint him. He always knew they were there, even when could not see the sun, he knew it was there. It was good to have something so solid in his life that he could grasp onto.

He didn't feel like moving for the longest time, he really didn't. He just lay there, content without moving and content just to staring. What else could someone who wasn't special do? But Mary, bless her heart.

She came in every day, and sat on the bed with him. Some times she'd play dolls, some times she'd color. She'd offer him her crayons, and some paper when she colored. Or she'd try to get him have a tea party with her. Every day, he'd turn her down. And every day she would give him this look. It wasn't sadness, it wasn't a pout. It was just there, the look of a child asking for something. He finally took the crayon she offered and began to slowly color with her one day. It made his heart feel a little lighter after that day.

That was how Luna found them one day. Mary happily drawing a unicorn, while Harry just drew a house, and a family.

“May I see?” She asked as she sat on the edge of the bed. She took his drawing, looking at it with tears in her eyes.

It was a family. Two large men and one very skinny woman a dress were to one side of the house draw with pretty decent detail. On the other side a short black haired with green eyes stick figure stood alone. He never could draw.

“Harry, do you want to talk about it?” Luna asked as she wiped her eyes. He shook his head. “I talked to Hermione, she's a mess.” Harry nodded, beginning to draw a feathered horse. Or at least, that was what it was supposed to be in his mind. “You probably should have let her explain herself more.” He shrugged his shoulders as he began to draw the wings of the feathered horse. “Maybe she thought she wasn't special enough for you.” Luna said, leaning forward. Harry looked at her for a moment.

“She never said that,” Harry said. His voice was a harsh whispered. “She said she was dating him while she was with me.”

“No, you heard she was dating him, you silly goose,” Luna said. Mary giggled at this. Harry looked down at her, surprised at Mary nestled underneath his arm. When did she get there?

“She still loves you,” Mary said. “She still cares for you.”

“But I can't care for her, she cheated on me,” Harry said, looking between the two women in his life.

“You do care, that's why it hurts so much,” Luna said. She sat down next to him. “You did everything you could to forget her, but you can't. Do you really want to move on?” Harry looked at her for a moment.

Hermione was everything that he had ever wanted. She had become his reason for getting up in the morning and for going to bed at night, just so he could dream about her as he held her. He only worked because she told him to do something. He would have done anything for her. They had their differences, but he thought they had been able to work through them all, coming out as a stronger couple.

“No,” he whispered. Luna kissed him on the cheek, as Mary did the same. The two were always good a cornering him, forcing him to accept their idea.

“I've set up an appointment with a psychiatrist for you tomorrow,” Luna said as she got off the bed. “Its time to talked to someone about everything Harry. He's a wizard, so don't be afraid that you have to lie about your magic.” She left him there, both of them knowing that she had gotten her way.

“You two are a sneaky bunch,” Harry said to Mary as she giggled again. She nodded before scrunching up her face.

“You stink, go, shower.” She pushed him before mustering up as much force as her three year old body could.

“Yes ma'am,” Harry said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. For the first time in over a month, he got out the bed, with the intentions to get something done with his life. He felt better. Maybe Luna knew what she was doing after all. He never noticed he finished his drawing of the feathered horse, Mary had taken it. He added two people on the back, one messy blacked haired boy, one bushy brown haired girl. He drew a lot better than he thought.

I0I

Harry had met with Dr. Girard for over two months now. Twice a week for two hours each. They sat and they talked about his problems. The fact that Girard was a wizard made things even easier to talk about.

They talked about what happened with Hermione and Ron. Girard made Harry start to think that it was not his fault, that he did not do anything wrong. He showed Harry that his relationship with Hermione was not a perfect as Harry thought it was. They did fight, and Harry did not listen like he thought he had to her. More than that, there were scenes he missed about her that used to see. Like a look she gave him, when she wanted him to start talking to her. Or how she would lean against him when she had a problem she couldn't work out on her own and wanted his help. Girard made Harry realize he never really listened to her, not then and certainly not now. He had made up his mind, wanting to hear only the things that he already knew.

They talked about his relationships with the Weasleys, specifically Molly. It felt good to vent everything to an objective perspective. Girard never gave his opinion on her, just let Harry speak, which Harry was grateful for. Everything in his life that started to change after Riddle, after Hogwarts, started because Molly could not get her way. During the war, Harry chalked it up to just her self preservation kicking it, but after, when she still tried to keep her family close and in her grasp, he did not know what to think. He needed to grow up, and she would not let any of them until they did her way.

They talked about Hogwarts, and the weight that Harry felt was placed on him. That itself was a good two weeks itself. He felt like he had to conform for everybody, to become what they thought he needed to be. He had to play the hero for everyone, especially the Gryffindors. They all looked up to him, to lead the way, to fight the good fight. That was one of the few reasons he had gone on to be an Auror, because it was expected of him.

They talked about his job as an Auror, the rough detail he was put through because once again, it was expected that he exceed expectations as the Defender of the Light. He was forced into the long hours that no one else would take because of who he was. He was expected to pick up slack from those that couldn't make the cut, and berated when he failed to carry that slack. He was forced out of a social life because everyone thought that Harry Potter did not need one.

Girard made Harry talk about his childhood. Just the lack of it, rather, made Harry stonewall for quite some time. He did not want to speak about it. Girard was patient though, waited for Harry to speak first about, never pressuring him to talk about it. “No expectations.” that was what Girard told him their first meeting. He eventually did, and the pain of loneliness brought by the Dursleys eased as he talked about it. It became easier over time, and Girard made sense when he said that Harry's need for approval and conforming started from the lack of positive attention as a child.

When it came to his alcoholism, Harry felt a relief being able to get a strong support from the good doctor, beyond the support group. The support group knew and understood what he was going through, but they were more likely to give him slack than anyone else. Girard wasn't. He forced the issue, making Harry confront his drinking. He had Luna sit in on the talk, and brought Chuck in for a day as well. He knew why he drank, to forget, but Girard gave him a different perspective. Or at least, one that he only voiced one other time.

Drinking gave him something to control. His life was controled by what everyone else wanted out of him, including Hermione. Everyone expected him to become someone that Harry had never met. In Girard's words, “the man here today was the man meant to be. You are becoming who you were always meant to be, by accepting you aren't superman, and that you can't hold the world on your shoulder's forever, Atlas.” Harry laughed at the name Atlas; he had studied Greek Mythology in college, and it felt good to know the knowledge did not go to waste, beyond being fun to learn.

“I feel better,” Harry said one day during a lunch with Luna and Mary. He had finally gotten them to move in with him, albeit temporarily as Luna put it. Mary seemed to enjoy spending more time with him, and being able to see Glenn more as Fleur set up play dates. Harry couldn't help but suspect that Fleur and Luna were already planning the wedding.

“It's no longer about what other people want from me,” Harry said, looking at Mary as she ran after Glenn. He didn't know what game they were playing, but they were happy. “I guess, you're the only one that never expected anything from me.” Luna gave him a smile, but said nothing. “I think, I might be ready to see Hermione again.”

“Are you sure?” Luna said, turning from the salad she was making. The concern on her face was obvious. She walked over to him, taking a seat next to him.

“No, but I'm ready to hear what else she has to say,” Harry said. “Have you talked to her since?” Luna looked away from a moment before nodding. “I'm not mad, just curious. She okay?”

“She certainly has been better, but between the hell you've put each other through,” her voice trailed off. “She's talked to me about it, and I don't forgive her for what she did.” Harry just shrugged his shoulders.

“Neither do I, but still doesn't mean I don't feel bad for her,” Harry said.

“You're a better person then I am Harry Potter,” Luna said. “She's blaming herself for this all, which she should be, but I think the real blame lies with Ronald.” Harry nodded, letting her continue. When she got into one of her talks, it was hard to stop her. “even in school, I remember him during the meals and food would appear for him because he was still hungry and wanted more. Or when you'd help him with Quidditch or Hermione help him with his homework. Everything he did, it seemed like he always got what he wanted. Or at least you all did the best you could to give him what he wanted.” She shrugged and her eyes went out of focus again. She got back up and began to finish the salad. “I've decided he's not worth it.”

“You letting go?” Harry asked.

“I don't think I can find a man who can accept me like I am,” Luna said with a sigh of resignation. “Not all men can be you.” Harry blushed at her words.

“I'm not that good of a role model,” Harry said. He paused here, thinking back to the brief attempt at a relationship. “why didn't it work between us?” Luna just gave him a sad smile.

“It just didn't,” she said. “Some times thing happen without a reason, they just do and you can't figure out why.” she moved the salad over to the table before taking a seat again. “I wanted it to work out. I wanted you to become a strong father for Mary, a good father like I knew you will become.”

“I could be that father,” Harry said. “If you give me another chance-”

“The end will be the same, it just wouldn't work,” Luna said. “I wanted to make you into Mary's father, her protector, and in a way you are, but being a father is more than just protecting your child. Despite how much you care for me and Mary, I know that you could never be as good of a father to her, as you could to your own.”

“How could you know that?” Harry asked, insulted. “I was there for everything for you and her.”

“Not for everything Harry,” Luna said. “You weren't there in some ways that I needed most. Not during the nights when I needed someone there to hold me. Not at the times when it seemed to hard for me to get through to Mary.”

“I'm sorry....I didn't know that,” Harry wanted to stand up and comfort her, but he was too shocked.

“And I didn't want you to know,” Luna said. She wiped away her tears before taking his hands in hers. “That's why I know you and I would never work out. Because I did not want you to know all of my problems.”

“No help from your Inner Sight?” Harry joked. Luna's face grew solemn as she shook her head.

“This is much more obvious than that Harry,” she said. “You are a strong caretaker, and great with children, you just have a hard time with discipline. But you take on problems of everyone else to forget your own. I did not want Mary or I to become something you could lose yourself in.” Harry shook his head, trying to find a good argument to her statement. “Harry, I'm not trying to insult you, but trying to help you.”

“You are having a different way of doing that then,” Harry muttered.

“Do you want to know what Mary said about all of this?” Luna asked. Harry looked up at her, trying to find any clue as to what she was saying. “She said that you loved her and you loved me, but you were meant for someone else. That no matter how hard you tried, that we occupied a different part of your heart than your beloved.”

“She said that?”

“She did,” Luna said. “That is why she calls you Uncle Harry, because she sees you and me as siblings.”

“So, that's why there can never be anything between us?” Harry was confused beyond a reasonable doubt at this point.

“Beyond what I said,” Luna said. “Do not take it as an insult, Harry, take it as honesty and love between two friends.”

“I thought Mary said we were like brother and sister?” Harry teased. Luna blushed at this, knowing that she had said something she wasn't supposed to. “And didn't a certain someone also listen to me on the radio?”

“Well, I...ummm...” Harry let out a laugh, standing up from his seat at the table.

“You figure out what you want to, I'm going to call Girard then Hermione,” Harry said. He headed off to his room, hoping to find his cell phone there.

“Why Girard?” Luna asked when he was halfway up the stairs.

“I promised Hermione a mediation,” Harry yelled back. He wanted to start on the right foot after all, although the left was pretty much the same....

I0I

Harry arrived a couple minutes earlier than normal. He had called Girard, and thankfully the man agreed to mediate between Hermione and him, though Harry thought the doctor muttered something about group therapy before he hung up the phone.

So here he was, sitting and trying to remain calm. He wanted to be angry with Hermione still, and he knew he should be. He wanted to remain angry for a long time. He did not come today to be talked out of his anger, or his disappointment. His eyes flew open at this. Where did the last part come from? He wasn't thinking about that, about being disappointed in her.

“They're ready to see you now,” the receptionist said. Harry thought her name was Mindy, but he didn't want to guess and be wrong.

“Harry, please have a seat.” Girard was in a chair in front of the coffee table with Hermione to his left in a more comfortable chair. There was a similar one across from Hermione, which Harry knew Girard wanted him in. “We were just going over some of the ground rules for my sessions, do you need me to repeat them?” He shook his head as he took a seat. “Good, now, before we get to the crux of the problem, I'm going to allow each of you to ask the other one question.”

“Okay,” Harry said. He looked at Hermione for a moment before he lowered his gaze to his hands in his lap. He did not know how long he sat there, staring at his hands. All he could think about was the days after her betrayal. The days, the months, the years. “Did you ever try to find me after I left?” Harry asked before thinking. Hermione started at this, obviously not expecting that question, to be honest, enither was he.

“I did, try to find you at least,” Hermione said. “I talked with Minerva and she told me where to find you. I wanted to come and find you, and did come with Ron several times.” She looked back down at her feet on the floor. “It wasn't a date then either Harry, he said he wanted to apologize then too.” Her hands rolled in each other, trying to give her something to do.

“Remember Harry, only one question,” girard said when Harry opened his mouth to speak again. “Did you ever find him?” She shook her head.

“They would not tell us where you were in the office, student confidentiality and all.” Her voice was weak, like it pained her to speak of this. Harry shook his head, no, not pained, fear. She was afraid of letting him know of her failure. “I wanted to keep looking, maybe stop in on a few classes, but Ron said he'd look for you, and try to convince you to return.” She shrugged her shoulders, looking helpless at her words as they fumbled out of her mouth. “He said that you had left....and after that I just waited for you to return.”

They sat there for several moments, in silence. Harry could not say what Girard was doing. His gaze had locked onto Hermione. She stared at the floor, again not meeting his gaze. But tha did not matter to him at the moment. What mattered was the fact that she did look for him, she had taken time to try and find him. For so long, he had thought she had just left him for Ron. Because that was what she wanted.

“Harry?” He snapped out of his thoughts, finding her eyes looking at him. “did you move on?” He thought about his last few years and all the women he could have had, and the few that he did.

“I wanted to, I really wanted to,” harry muttered. He shook his head, the empty feeling from the years before beginning to fill him up again. “I tried, several times.” The parties he went to had no limit to the number of women that seemed to be attracted to him.

“How far did you go?” Harry looked up at Girard, knowing that he was asking the question Hermione wanted to ask, but could not.

“We had sex if that is what you are asking, but it was never intimate, never special,” Harry said. He looked at her again, trying to think if he should go on. “I could not begin to give myself away, only to know I could not give that person everything about me. All of my heart.” His voice trailed off at the end, and it was several more moments before he found the courage to speak again. “I didn't begin to date until about two years ago, when the loneliness became too much to take.” He humorlessly chuckled. “Even with the alcohol helping.”

Again, Harry felt the room go silent, except this time, his gaze was on the floor, while he felt Hermione's on him. Girard gave them a few moments before speaking. “The purpose of the question is to show your honesty toward each other, and your willingness to move forward in your lives.”

The table in front of them appeared a pensive, though the runes were not like the other pensives Harry had seen. Hermione was interested in it as well, leaning forward in her chair to examine the runes closer.

“This pensive is meant to combine memories and all use to discuss them from the comfort of these chairs.” Girard removed his wand from his jacket, waving it over the pensive. Water slowly filled the brim to the top. “Now, I want you both to place the memory of the night your friendship ended.” -

A/N: I am completely caught up at the moment with chapters. I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I want to get them out at about a week a chapter, but we'll see as my next few weeks are filled with family commitments. I will however strive to keep to that schedule as best as I can. This will be finished by the end of June at the latest. I only have another three or four chapters to write, including the next one. The final confrontation between Harry and Molly will happen at the end. I thank you all for reading this story and helping me make it better.

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The memory started the night before Harry found them. He was in the kitchen with Hermione as they finished cleaning up for dinner. He stood and watched as the memories of him and Hermione laughed about on thing or another. Was he ever so care free?

He watched as his memory cleaned the dishes as Hermione put away some of the left overs. There was an odd look here or there between them, a calling from lovers if you will. Hermione kept glancing at him, yet a sadness in her eyes told Harry he was missing something.

“Do you have to work tonight?” She asked.

“I wish I didn't,” Memory-Harry said. His hands went down to the edge of the sink gripping them lightly. “I'm thinking about quiting.” His voice was soft, and Harry could feel his pain from the past as he spoke.

“What?” Hermione turned at look at him for a moment. At the time, Harry had thought she did not hear him, but the look on her face was so shocked, so surprised that he knew she had.

“Nothing love,” Harry said. The fake smile still hurt him to that day. “You meeting Ron tonight?” Harry looked at the real Hermione for a moment, gaging her reaction to her own words.

Hermione looked ready to cry, and Harry felt sorry for her. As his memory spoke, he could see the pain of realization cross her face, and the loss of her naivety. This was digging up as many demons for her, as it was for him.

“No, but if he stops by we might go out for drinks,” she said. “Its odd how he always seems to stop by whenever you aren't here.” His memory nodded, but he should have known Ron was moving in on Hermione. She should have known.

“Maybe we should set something up,” Harry said, looking back at her. The memory-Harry was hiding his previous statement, and the real-Harry knew Hermione would never push him to answer something she probably wasn't sure she heard in the first place.

“I don't want you to get in trouble with work Harry,” Hermione said. Harry watched the memory of her move over to his memory, hugging him gently.

“I need to leave soon.” Watching the memory kiss was too much. Harry turned away, not knowing that Hermione did the same as she was forced to watch. Girard stayed back, not saying anything, though Harry knew the man would have enough questions later.

“I wish you could stay.”

“Me too.” Harry had mouthed the words along with the memory, remembering them for so long. He beat himself up over those simple words; instead of doing what he had wanted to, he followed him head. He wanted to stay with her and never let go. In the end, though, she was the one that let go of him.

“Let's stop here for a moment,” Girard said. The memory froze, and both Hermione and Harry looked over at him. “Hermione, how often did you go out for drinks with Ron?”

“Once, maybe twice a week. Sometimes he'd come over here and we'd chat,” Hermione said. She looked at Harry for a moment, he caught her eyes. “I didn't think anything of it though. Just going out and being with a friend.”

“Understandable, from your perspective that is all it was, we'll see more about that later,” Girard commented. He turned toward Harry. “What do you feel about that?” Harry was caught off guard a little. A little might be an understatement as he thought Girard would see things his way, that it wasn't just drinks with a friend.

“About her going out with Ron?” Girard nodded. “I'd like to see how they interacted before I tell you. As of now, I feel that more of the blame lies on Ron, then does on Hermione.” He heard her let out a sigh of relief. “But that doesn't mean I don't feel betrayed any less.”

“Good, you may each ask the other a question if you like,” Girard said. He sat back in his chair, though Harry could not tell how he brought it with him.

“Did you really want to quit?” Hermione asked. Harry nodded, looking at the image of his memory and hers still embraced.

“I just thought too many people would be disappointed, that they all worked so hard, that you worked so hard, to make sure I could get in, that if I quit, it'd be like I was failing them.” He turned to look at her, knowing that he did not want to say it, but she needed to know. “That I'd be failing you.”

“You could never fail me,” Hermione whispered. They still stood a bit apart, distance enough that they could react on their own, yet as she reached across to grab his hand. He felt a little bit of his hurt fade. Not much, but a little. The burden of failing, even now, haunted him. He hated it, no matter how much he showed differently, he hated to fail.

“But I did.” he gave her hand a squeeze before letting it go, turning back to memory. “I pushed you away.” He looked at their image for a long time, trying to think of a question, anything to ask her. He could only think of one at the moment.

“Why did you stay so long with me, if you thought it wasn't working out?” Harry asked. The words fell out of his mouth, heavy and hard. They hit that way as well, judging by the look on Hermione's face.

“I....I...I don't know,” she said. Her voice became a whisper as she turned from him, to look away from the memory of an embrace they held. “I didn't think it wasn't working out...” Harry raised an eyebrow, not trusting everything she was saying. But he did not speak, knowing she had a right to her words, and he'd be able to respond in the end. “I couldn't bring myself to talk to you about the problems, and I didn't know how to approach you about to begin with.”

“So you went to Ron?” Girard asked. Harry felt his neck crack as he snapped to look at the man. Did he just read his mind or something?

“No, I didn't tell anyone, at least, not until that night,” Hermione said. She looked at Harry for a moment before looking at Girard. “It'd be best if I was able to show you.” Girard nodded and the memory around them faded. Harry watched as their apartment turned into a bar near their home.

Hermione walked in, dressed as she had been when she was in their kitchen. She wasn't wearing any makeup or anything of the sort. She usually didn't need to in his opinion, but when she did BAAM! Knocked him straight to the moon. He smiled at the thought but let it go. Ron was already sitting at a high table, munching on the peanuts the bar offered.

“Hermione!” Ron's face lit up immediately. Hermione turned away immediately from the memory immediately; Harry could only guess that she was thinking the same thing too: Ron's reaction was not simply platonic.

“Ron, its good to see you again,” Memory-Hermione said. Her voice was not as cheery as Ron's, nor did her face light up as much. Harry watched them make small talk, though Ron kept trying to move closer to her. Finally she asked the question that Harry wanted an answer to: “Why'd you ask me out here tonight?”

“I wanted to see you,” Ron said. His laughed covered nervousness up, Harry could tell that much. “Isn't that enough?”

“But why? You saw me last week,” Hermione said. She never got an answer. A bunch of their friends, Seamus, Dean, Lavender and them dropped into the bar as well. Timed perfectly, but Harry figured it was just a flawed thought.

They bought several rounds, and Harry wasn't surprised to see them getting drunk. The few times he had been able to make it with them, he had gotten drunk along with them, but now he the thirst was getting to him. He wanted to drink, he wanted to forget. He wanted....

He took several deep breaths, feeling Hermione's and Girard's stares on him. He tried to force the urge to leave now. He needed this just as much as Hermione did. He could wait to force these problems out of him. He was stronger than that. He nodded, letting them continue on with the memory.

The night carried on without much fanfare, except Harry noticed Ron kept trying to get Hermione to drink. While the rest of them were getting drunk, she nursed a glass of wine. This wasn't to say that she completely avoided Ron's actions; his subtler hints at closeness got by, like reaching for the peanuts at the same time she was, or leaning in to compliment her. This passed by Hermione in a flash. Each one only encouraged Ron to try to get closer.

“Body shots!” One of the crowd of gathered yelled. Both Hermiones froze at this, causing Harry to look at each face carefully. Everyone but Ron was attached. They had done these once before, when he was there with the group. Hermione did them with him, but seemed embarrassed after only a set. She liked to be private about things, about their love. Or at least, he thought she did. He wasn't quite sure how she thought anymore, given the circumstances.

The faces of the crowd made Harry think this was planned. How could it not be? All but Ron was attached, so he was the one in need of a partner. Hermione was lacking one as well. Ron's smile gave the rest away. He planned this, or at least set it up in his favor. Drop the hint or two.

“No,” Hermione said, snapping out of her thoughts. The memory played on though. “No, I'm not doing those.”

“Come on Herms,” Seamus said. Lavender snuggled up next to him, giggling about something. “Where's your sense of fun?”

“At work,” the memory said with such honesty, it startled him. Harry looked at her, causing her to blush.

“Herms, what's the deal?” Ron whispered to her.

“The deal is I did not come out here to get drunk, I came out here to talk to an old friend,” her memory said.

“Look, I just thought you might want to have some fun, being stuck in that flat by yourself,” Ron said. A subtle jab at Harry. Those were common for the evening. Most of them passed Hermione right by, but she glared at Ron for this one. “sorry for trying to include you.” he turned at this, and again Harry got the sense that Ron was attacking, playing off of Hermione's kindness. Apparently it worked, as the memory showed her giving in to drinking, but not to the body shots. Thank God for small favors.

“After that, I pretty much let them give me whatever,” Hermione admitted. Harry turned to look at her, not quite sure what to make of it. “Even when I tried to stop an hour in, Ron played the same card, or a variant of it.”

“You had enough sense to push him off of you it looks like,” Girard commented. Harry nodded, not trusting himself to say something incredible hurtful or stupid.

“As long as I could tell it wasn't Harry, I wasn't letting anyone get to close,” Hermione said. Harry looked at her for a moment, feeling guiltly for his words until Girard spoke again.

“But what if you couldn't tell?”

“I...” Hermione had no response for this. The memory kept playing, and as time progressed, she tried to stop drinking, simply because she was three sheets to the wind already. Harry felt his heart go out for her, as the memory-Hermione was kept given drinks, despite being as drunk as he has ever seen for her. She began to talk more about his and her relationship as the night passed, and more alcohol got into her system. Every flaw Harry had, or maybe perceived to have, Ron pounced on, complimenting himself while taking cracks at Harry. Had Hermione been sober, she would have noticed it. But she wasn't. And she only agreed with him more and more as the night passed.

“This is where things begin to get really fuzzy for me,” Hermione said. The memory showed it as the images began to fade slightly and the clarity was going as well. They watched as Ron helped Hermione up, holding her a bit closer than friends would. Harry held his tongue in check as the memory shifted from the bar to the flat he and Hermione shared.

“He lead me up to my room, then I don't remember much after that,” Hermione commented. The memory showed just that, Ron leading her up the room he and Hermione shared. Letting her fall to the bed unceremoniously, Ron stood there for several moments. The memory was still fading as Hermione seemed to be falling asleep rather quickly.

“I hope....” Ron's voice trailed off here. The memory went black for a few moments before soft words and images faded into view.

“Harry?” Hermione's voice cracked with sleep. He looked over at her as her memory self was waking on their bed. She wasn't alone though.

“Sssh.” That was Ron's voice. It was loud, but only because Harry figured that Ron was the body lying next to her. “It's me.”

“No,” Hermione turned at this, away from Ron. “Want Harry.”

“Harry's not here,” Ron's voice said. The images faded again, this time, Hermione was sitting up right, with Ron pulling off her shirt. “Trust me love, its going to be okay.” Hermione just moaned, not a pleasurable one, no more like the kind when there are no words for the situation. Like right now. Where she didn't want it to happen, but she could not find the words. At least that was what Harry was hoping her thoughts were. Again the images faded. This time, they remained that way.

“You know what happened next,” Hermione said. “You found us in bed together, both without our shirts on.”

“But that doesn't answer the question,” Harry said. He wanted answers, this only left him with more questions.

“I think the point is Harry, that maybe she did not sleep with Ron, maybe she did,” Girard said. “But can you forgive her either way?” Harry's mind stopped at this and looked over at her for a moment. Could he? Did he want to forgive her?

He spent six years of his life hating her, hating her for doing this to him, but how much of it really was her fault? Shaking his head, he knew there was only one answer he could give at the moment. “We need to set up another meeting.”

“Why?” Girard asked.

“Because we want to work it out,” Hermione said, completing his thought. Harry would have smiled at her, if he was not so damn confused over what to do about her.

I0I

Harry entered Hogwarts for the first time in nearly seven years. Not to say that he did not still talk to some of the Professors, but he had his reasons for staying away. All of which Professor McGonagall knew.

“Glad you finally found the time to join us again, Harry,” McGonagall said. Harry looked back from the window he was staring out; the winter season was almost upon them, and Hogwarts was already showing the signs of an early frost. The lake was freezing over already, bit by bit, and the kids with Care for Magical Creatures were bundled up tighter than they probably should have been for this time of year. Such is lovely English weather.

Harry shrugged at her comment. “Some things are hard to push away.” he looked back at the lake. “out of sight, out of mind.”

“How have you been, really?” McGonagall's voice held none of the stern professor she had been when he was her student.

“I wish I could say better, but then I would be lying,” harry gave her sad smile as he turned back to look at the professor. She sat at her desk, looking every bit of the Headmistress that she was. “I think I'm getting there though, that's the important thing.”

“No, the important thing is that you are here to talk about,” she said. Harry nodded, reminded of his fatalistic point of view during the war. “Are you going to continue you're education?” What had once been a point of great comfort for him, now just left him confused.

“I really want to, but after going through so much therapy with Dr. Girard, I don't know if I really want to pursue Psychology,” Harry said. He sat in the chair in front of her desk, taking one of the biscuits she always had laying out. “I think I really was pursuing it as something to do, to get my mind off of everything. It worked.” He sat there for a moment. “I've been talking with Ollivander about coming on as an apprentice. We'll see how it goes.” He shrugged, letting the conversation die down.

“How's therapy going?” She asked. The question she had wanted to ask since he walked in.

“Slow,” Harry said after finishing the biscuit. “My solo sessions have made a lot of progress, but they've taken a back seat to the sessions with Hermione.” McGonagall perked up at this, again the story she wanted to hear. He almost wanted to laugh.

“Hermione has been doing much better since she started going,” McGonagall commented. “I was afraid for quite some time that I might have to ask her to take a holiday.”

“She not doing well?” Hermione never mention her work during their sessions. So far there only had only been four other of them, twice a month, every other week. It took the first two sessions to work past that night.

Harry had still been unsure as to forgive her if she had slept with Ron. He could forgive her if he chose to believe that she didn't but Girard would not let he think about that until he thought about if she did sleep with Ron. Girard laid down the law though, giving him an ultimatum during the middle of the second session. Either forgive her or walk out the door. Forever.

For the rest of that session, no one spoke. Harry felt the shock finally fade as the session ended. He had held onto his hate for her for so long, it felt....awkward to let it go. To let something that had stewed inside of him for seven years. Locked in the chair, as Girard and Hermione were beginning to leave, he felt something break. That was the end of it, the end of everything they had if he could not let go of all of the pain, and more importantly all of the hate. “I forgive you.”

Later, Hermione told him there were tears running down his face. The next session in fact. But he didn't remember crying, or even starting to in the middle of that session. All he could think about is, he had his chance to get her back into his life. Even if it was just as friends.

“She completes her classes like all of the other professors here, however there is no light in her eyes, no fire to teach,” McGonagall said. “Not like she used to at least.”

“When she was with Ron?” Harry asked. McGonagall shook her head, a small smile gracing her face.

“When she was with you,” she said. Harry felt his heart skip a couple beats, then fitfully restart. Funny how McGonagall missed that, or it probably was just his imagination. “She found that fire again, at the very end of the term, but lost it over the summer. She's finally turning back into the same Hermione the seventh years were able to experience. A wonderful teacher.”

“She always has been,” Harry said without thinking. If he had been a younger student, he would have blushed under McGonagall's gaze. Now he just had the good sense to look away.

“Well, now she's making her way back to that point again,” she said. “I trust that you won't let her fall down that slippery slope again?”

“We're working out the problems as we go along,” Harry said. A smile grew on his face, as he thought about the last session, where they were able to begin working on reactions to each others problems or mistakes. What made him smile though, was the hug she gave him at the end, or did he start that hug? Either way, it was not bone-crushing nor delicate. It was close, and warm, and more helpful then any hours of therapy he had received so far. That alone made he think they could become friends again. Maybe more.

Pushing that thought out of his mind, he looked back at McGonagall. She gave him a knowing smile, like she read his mind. While he wouldn't put it past her, more likely, she had seen the same smile on Hermione's face.

“She should be here any minute now,” McGonagall said. She looked at the clock on the wall, next to one similar to the clock the Weasleys' had. Only this one had an arm for all of the professors, and himself apparently. “You're always welcome here you know that Harry.”

“I do, but-” McGonagall cut him off.

“But you are still finding yourself,” she said. “Completely understandable, Harry. However, do expect that you are not a stranger anymore.”

“No ma'am,” Harry said. He figured now was as good of a moment as any. “If it'd help, I'd like you to join my family for dinner on Christmas.” There were few times Harry remembered McGonagall ever being shocked. This was one of the first he could.

“Christmas? Family?” McGonagall got out. Harry nodded, glad to shock some life into the Headmistress.

“Yes for Christmas, as for my family, its makeshift.” He shrugged his shoulders at this, knowing that he would not have his own children for severals. Not until he got over Hermione, if he ever did. “But I'd like you there all the same.”

“I'd be delighted to,” McGonagall said, a wide smile on her face. Harry could not help but smile back; hers made her face look young, not so worn from the years of war she survived. They all carried scars, they all carried burdens.

Harry turned at the knock on the door, knowing Hermione was about to let herself in. She didn't fail his guess as she walked looking slightly tired from teaching all day. Her face lit up though as she met his smile. “Harry, i'm surprised you're hear already, I was afraid I was going to have to floo you.”

“Not at all, Harry and I were just catching up,” McGonagall said. Harry nodded, standing from his chair. He walked over and gave her a hug, welcoming her back fully in his life. “Don't be a stranger this time Harry.” McGonagall waved them off as he and Hermione walked back down the stairs.

“You were awful cozy with her,” Hermione commented. Harry shrugged his shoulders, not really knowing what to say. They walked in silence outside the castle, heading toward Hogsmeade slowly. He was right, winter was settling in early on them. He wanted to offer his jacket to Hermione, it was the kind of thing he did before when they were just friends. But the distance between them still seemed to large. Despite standing next to her.

“You think we're making progress?” Hermione asked him. He snapped out of his thoughts, turning to look at her.

“I think it's a work in progress,” Harry said. HE did not want to commit one way or another, but he still felt that they were mending some of the bridges. The work was a lot easier once he realized that he did not want her to not be a part of his life. “We've got ways to go though.”

“You think it'll ever be as it was?” Hermione asked again, after several moments of silence.

“I want to say yes, I really do,” Harry said. “But I don't think we can ever get back to normal for us.”

“What if we make a new normal?” Hermione asked. They had been steadily getting closer together, and he felt her hand wrap around his lightly. She looked at him a little fear in her eyes. She was just as scared of this as he was. Giving her hand a squeeze, he chanced a look at her, giving her a small grin.

“I think I can manage that.”

-->

Harry sat in front of the fire, watching as Lupin and Bill argued about something over a game of chess. Christmas had snuck up on him, which for the first time, he was glad for. He never liked Christmas. It was a time for family and friends, when you don't have too many of those, what's to like about it?

Now things were different. Bill and Fleur had brought their son over, skipping out on Weasley family dinner. Fleur was already showing her second, a daughter this time. That brought a strong smile to everyone's faces.

Gabrielle came with them as well, with a young French man by her side. Fleur had asked him previously if Gabby could bring the man, and Harry really had no objections to it. No, he just took the man aside, with the intention of calmly and quietly explaining why he was the one who defeated Voldemort, and if he hurt one of the people that Harry considered family, then the man would find out. Guy's named turned out to be Jacques. Glad Harry found that out before really speaking to him. What surprised him was Gabby coming up and thanking him, for letting her be apart of his family. He didn't know it was such high praise. The young couple was sitting in a corner, sharing a Christmas together which from the looks of it might be the first of many.

Mary and Glenn were playing some a Quidditch miniature game in the corner. They were good together, and fast becoming best friends. A friendship growing beyond just playing together. Harry could see it in their eyes, despite them being so young. He was glad they were going to form such as strong bond so fast. He hoped they would not be afraid of it either when the time came. He knew he was.

Fleur and Tonks were talking about house decorating charms, or something of that nature. Honestly, he did not have a clue what women talked about half the time. The other half he just guessed wrong.

McGonagall and Luna were off talking about one of Luna's new projects, something about transfiguration as punishment. Again, he did not know and expected to know even less about it when the article came out. That was just the way the world worked for him.

He had invited the Andres to join him, however they were visiting Shirley's parents and family. He met them for dinner still, not eager to give up one of the stable parts of his life. He sent them their gifts, knowing he'd receive a harsh remark from Shirley when he saw them again. Maybe partial ownership of the station was a bit much, but what did Harry need it for? He had other ventures that were turning out lucky for him.

The last person he had invited wasn't here yet, but then again, he did not expect her to be here early. She had mentioned going to have dinner with her parents and spend some time with them first. He could not begrudge Hermione some time with them.

Their path back to friendship was slow indeed. At times, it seemed like nothing had happened between them, they could act as they were friends like back in their fourth, third years. Hell even their seventh year wasn't that bad. Other times, the distance was painfully obvious between them. He could feel it more than anything else as he felt like he should comfort her, give her a hug. But their actions, her actions still weighed heavily on his mind. While he had forgiven her, he could not forget what had happened. Their new normal was still a bit of ways off.

One thing for the evening that he had allowed was alcohol for those that wished to enjoy it. Fleur, Gabby and Jacques all enjoyed the wine he had Luna select, while Lupin and Bill just drank the fire whiskey. It felt he was passing the test as he watched them drink. He wanted to so bad, things seemed easier when he drank. But he wouldn't, he had made a promise to Mary. He would not break that promise. Not again.

Taking a sip of the black coffee he prepared, Harry relaxed in the chair for a moment. He felt Hermione cross the wards he had erected around his home, knowing she would be here soon. He replayed their last conversation with Girard in his mind. He let the memory wash over him for a moment, knowing she'd take some time to get up to the house.

“Hermione, I think its time that Harry knows what happened after you two fought, the morning after,” Girard said. Hermione remained silent for several moments, giving Harry a chance to gather his own thoughts. He knew Ron was apart of the problem, but how much of the problem was she going to lay on Ron's doorstep?

“After the fight, I tried to find you, I truly did, but none of our friends knew where you were,” she said. “Minerva said that you were at Oxford, so I took the day off, or as much as I could without losing my job. I got into a fight with Ron before we left, blaming him for doing this to us.” She stopped her to wipe her tears, though Harry did not know what caused them. “He fought for the better part of the morning. It came down to him taking advantage of me, and me not knowing when to stand up for myself. I would have stopped talking to him, if I didn't feel like I needed him to help me find you. He needed to apologize too, or at least said he did.

“We quite arguing long enough to start looking for you,” Hermione said. “I tried everything, looked every where at Oxford for you, and I couldn't find you. I wanted to spend a week, a month looking for you. Minerva asked me to keep teaching, telling me to try again when we both cooled down. I finally let Ron talk to me about a month after it happened. He apologized, and said he'd look for you. I take it he never did.”

“Probably not,” Harry said. “If he did, he didn't try very hard.” He shrugged his shoulders, pushing back the anger at Ron to the hole below his heart. He let it settle there, knowing his heart would not let the anger grow anymore than necessary. Until it needed to grow. He nodded, letting Hermione continue. She gave him a half-hearted smile.

“I lost myself in my job after that, most of the days blur together now,” she said. “Ron kept searching for you Harry, or at least said he did. For a long time, I really didn't talk to anyone, outside of faculty at Hogwarts.”

“When did you get together with Ron?” Harry asked. He couldn't help it, the conversation was just going too slow. He knew they had to get together, what he really wanted to know was why they had, after all that Ron did to them. Or made them do to each other.

“At Lupin's and Tonks' wedding,” Hermione said. She looked down at her lap. “I thought you were going to be there, I really did. I hoped to talk to about everything, maybe explain a few things, some of the things we've gone over here.” He nodded again, knowing that if he had been there, they most likely would be having this conversation anyway. “But you weren't, and no one knew why. I don't think I've ever felt so alone in a crowded room.

“Ron began to talk to me again, apologized for what he did,” Hermione said. “He said that he tried to talk to you, but you wouldn't listen. He never talked to you did he?” Her voice was growing angry now, and Harry just shook his head, knowing he was already redirecting his anger. “I should have known, I shouldn't have fallen so easily.”

“You had nothing left Hermione,” Harry said. “I left, and you only had one friend left, of course you are going to forgive , just to get him back into your life.”

“Harry, stop defending me to myself,” Hermione snapped. He sat back, shocked. Had he really done that? “I should have seen it then, and I didn't. You may be right, but I only compounded the problems by not doing what was right. I took the easier route.” Her hands went up to her eyes brushing away the tears. He wanted to hold her, to apologize, but he knew she would not except it. He had apologized for leaving as he did, that was about all he could apologize for. Even Girard agreed with him on that. “I forced you to leave, and then let everyone convince me you would come back. But I knew you wouldn't. Not until...” Her voice hitched at this. “Not until I apologized.” She looked at him now, not worrying about the tears in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. “I'm sorry Harry. I'm sorry for pushing you away and not looking for you. I just...” Her tears became too much now.

“You were scared,” Harry said. He stood from his seat, and wrapped his arms around her. She broke down against him, and he could only hold on tighter. Ever since he had decided to forgive her, there was not much she could do to upset him. About this subject at least, since he had figured out most of what she did with Girard in one of his solo sessions long before he started going to the “couple's therapy” with Hermione.

Shaking his head, he released the memory, knowing he had been lost in it for quite some time. That night had been a huge stepping stone for them. While he had forgiven her, she had yet to forgive herself, at least before that night. Now she was beginning to, slowly and surely, forgive herself. She had been surprised at his lack of anger with her, but he explained he had used that all up already, and now was reserving that mainly for Ron and Molly.

“You lost in thought?” Harry turned to see McGonagall sitting down next to him. He gave her a smile before assenting the comment. “Did you invite Hermione?”

“Yeah, but she had already excepted her parents invitation,” Harry said. “We're getting better. She's starting to forgive herself, and I convinced her to see Dr. Girard by herself.”

“You still seeing him?”

“Once a month, though, just to help out with the final kinks in my system.” He looked back out toward the window catching Hermione's eyes as she passed by a window. “Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to let in an old friend.” McGonagall nodded, giving him a comforting smile as he stood from his chair.

The rest of the group had been told of Hermione's late arrival, which lead him to a lack of surprise as Mary and Glenn beat him to the door, opening it to let in a burst of cold air. “Should let them host the next party.” Harry mumbled, knowing they had repeated the same thing for McGonagall, and Lupin and Tonks.

Hermione handed two gifts to the younger children, causing them to give her quick hugs before sprinting back to the corner they were playing in. “Glad you could make it,” Harry said. Before she got a chance to reply, the women in the room, with the exception of McGonagall rushed over to her.

They all were talking very high and very quickly. And he could not understand a single word any other them said as they pulled Hermione out of the front door and back to the kitchen. With a shrug, he walked back to the fire place, sitting in his seat next to McGonagall.

“Stole your thunder?” she asked with a hint of amusement.

“Perhaps,” Harry said. “I just wanted the chance to say hello at least.” She gave him a knowing smile.

“You'll get your chance Harry,” McGonagall said. “Now tell me more about your apprenticeship. Ollivander doesn't give them out to just anyone, you have to prove your worth to him.”

“I know, bugger didn't give a damn that I defeated Voldemort, said he still had to see if I had the mettle for the job,” Harry said. He crossed his arms and let his weight rest against the chair. He got the Headmistress to giggle, which made him smile. “No, for the most part, its been fun. We've started small, with some basic enchantments and going over the materials. You understand there is a limitless amount of combinations. I bet that any time in the world, no two people have the same wand measurements. I'm talking basic, wood type, length, and core type.”

“Seems like you found something new to entertain yourself with,” she spoke with a knowing smile on her lips.

“Its more than that,” Harry said. “I've been talking to him about increasing his business, maybe expanding the store to include some rare books and artifacts that we find or create ourselves. He's not limited to just wands.”

“Looking for something new to work on then?”

“I don't need the money, my projects, like the radio station are just something I do to pass the time and do something I find fun,” Harry said. “That's what a job should be right? Something you'd do for free?”

“In theory,” McGonagall said. “But often people are forced into positions that they do not want to be in, simple to sustain their way of life, or their life in general.”

“I know. I worked in London for two years, and after only six months there, I set up a charity for some of the homeless to work for.” McGonagall peaked up at this, something that didn't surprise him. Most people thought it was a wonderful idea, he was just glad it worked. “Basically, they unpack goods that I buy, and then repack them in crates for shipping to some of the third-world nations. Not much, but it gives them something to be proud of.” They sat in silence, and Harry could only guess that she was thinking about his actions.

“You never cease to amaze me Harry,” she said after a few moments. “Even with the burdens you carry, you lift more onto your shoulders. If I could, I'd try and grab you as a professor, simple because I know that your experience alone would serve as a teaching tool for the students. To learn what is good and how to do something altruistic.”

“There is no such thing as altruism, ma'am,” Harry said.

“Your life would a contrast to that, Harry.” He turned to see Hermione walking up behind his chair. She hugged him from around his chair, before taking a seat across from McGonagall.

“How are your parents, Hermione?” McGonagall asked. Harry just nodded, slightly in shock that she had hugged him. They had been reserved about such acts for the last several months, reaffirming the boundaries of their friendship. It surprised him a great deal then, when he realized how much he missed being hugged by her, and hugging her just the same.

“They're fine; I finally told them about what has been happening here,” Hermione said. “Well to me at least. They weren't proud of my decisions, and we spent a great deal talking about it.” She paused before looking over at Harry for a moment.

They're happy I'm mending bridges with you Harry.”

“I thought we decided on building new ones?” Harry asked, jokingly. She shook her head her eyes drawn in determination.

“You let me fix the first one, the one that started our friendship,” Hermione said. “Even after you tore into me that night, you still let me fix this. I don't think I could ever thank you enough.”

“I'll be honest, I didn't do this for you at the start,” Harry said. Hermione nodded, probably guessing that was the case. “I did this for me, so that I could move on with my life. I wanted a chance at normalcy and I thought that if I talked to you, and maybe worked things out, I could move on.”

“What about now?” Hermione asked. Harry looked at her for a moment, cataloging that McGonagall had gotten up from her chair.

“I think we're settling into a good normal as friends again,” harry said. “I'm not quite ready to be best friends, but I think I can live with just friends for now.”

“For now,” Hermione nodded. They sat in a comfortable silence, one that Harry felt happy to have again. They never needed words to have a conversation or to be comfortable in the presence of each other. It was one of his favorite things about their relationship, that he could enjoy silence and not feel the need to fill the void.

He didn't know how long was, but Hermione was the first to break the silence. “Harry? Would you be interested in going to a party with me? As a friend?” She added the last part quickly, a blush on her face. He knew she wanted to get back to where they were, and was worried about not being able to. Hell, she had told him that in therapy. But right now, he needed to take it slow. To redefine where they each stood with each other. Mainly to make sure he didn't rush in like a fool again.

“Who's party?” Harry asked. Hermione looked away at this point, biting her lower lip.

“Fred and George's,” Hermione said. Before he got a chance to respond, Race-car Hermione took off at the green light. “They hold one every year at this main shop. Its private so it'll probably be only people you know, or rather knew. You could probably dodge the Weasleys pretty easily, though the twins might rope you in. Its a really big thing and its a lot of fun. Most of it is at least as they prank people all night. They know not to do that to me, but its kinda funny to see it happen to other people. Not that is a good thing , but they always manage to get Ron with their newest creations. I mean last year they-”

“Hermione,” Harry said. He leaned over and placed a hand on her arm. She calmed down immediately before blushing under his gaze. He kept his hand there as she looked at him for a moment before looking away. “Its okay, relax.” He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he took her hands in his own. “Now, will Molly be there?”

“Yes, Harry, but you can easily avoid her,” Hermione started up again. Harry gave her another look as she settled back down. He moved to the edge of his seat to talk to her in a soft voice.

“You've telling me too much for what I need to know,” Harry said. “I trust you when you say that I can avoid her easily, but I don't won't to avoid her.”

“You don't?” Her brow creased as her eyes stared at him, the confusion easily painted there.

“No,” Harry said. He leaned back in his chair, letting go of her hands as he did. She looked slightly disappointed as he dropped his hands. He tried to ignore the light flutter and voice in his head telling him to pick them back up again. Damn voice was getting louder by the week. “No, I want to see her face when she realizes I'm back.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I want to show her I'm not going to be pushed around,” harry said. He shrugged his shoulders. “The how is the only question now. I think of something as I go along.”
“Still flying by the seat of your pants?” Hermione gave him a knowing grin. He smiled back, nodding slightly.

“There are few things in my life that I plan more than a month ahead, my education being the only one,” Harry said. “I don't like time tables because I feel they constrict me too much. But without them I tend to get off track.”

“You are a walking contradiction sometimes you know that?” Hermione said. Time passed them for a moment, then she asked again. “So do you want to go with me?”

“I think I'd love to,” harry said honestly. She beamed at him, and sat forward with the look in her eyes like she wanted to tackle him with a hug. But she just grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Thank you,” Hermione said. She held the hand for a minute or two - could have been twenty for all Harry knew, he barely felt time pass - before dropping it slowly.

I0I

Harry walked into the party without much fanfare. That alone was going to make his entrance even more memorable. He saw several people that he went to school with. Finnegan and Brown were stand off to the side, taking with Thomas. the former two had to be together, or otherwise completely blind to each other with how they were standing. Boot was talking with the Patils, as Finch-Fletchley came over. There were others, but he only caught the eyes of those few. And he saw the fear and confusion in them.

Hermione had walked off with Ginny, the two talking about one thing or another. Ginny had approached him only days before, to talk to him. About “repairing what she could of his trust”. Her exact words. He told her he needed time, and for her not to get angry with what he was going to do. When she asked, he just gave her a smile and told her that Molly would receiving a Howler in person.

The twins were off talking to some other people, and judging by the the crowd surrounding them, testing a new product. He wasn't too sure if said product would lead to profit for them, and ultimately him, but at the moment that wasn't his concern.

He was watching Molly. The woman was currently talking to a group of people from the Order. Or at least when he had led the Order. Lupin and Tonks were there too, and looked pained to be there, stuck in that situation. They forced themselves into it though, and Harry knew they had done some to get him back into their lives, but not enough. Oh, he forgave them, he just wasn't above a little bit of compensation in terms he designed. After today though, things would be square, or about as square as they could get at the moment.

He wished Luna was here, but he knew that she would never set foot into an area with Ron in it, not after his actions against her. He was honestly surprised that Hermione still entered the same room as Ron, but he knew that Hermione would never stop surprising him.

Ron walked like he owned the place, which was funny, coming from a guy who owned more than a quarter of the business himself. Harry watched as Ron talked and made his way through the crowd. He pretended to drink out of the glass he had, although he never would touch the stuff. There was alcohol in the glass, and the smell called to him. He wanted to drink it so badly, just for a little courage, a little strength. That's all he needed really. One sip, what would it hurt? No one had to know; it was just him and -

No.

No, he made a promise.

His hand went to his pocket and held onto a small pocket watch that Mary had gotten him for Christmas though, holding her picture on one side and the other side left open from what said would his daughter. The gift touched him, and his tightened his grip on the watch. His promise would be broken by this vice. He would not be broken.

He set down the drink and turned around, away from the direction that Ron was looking at. He wasn't surprised to see the twins there. The crowd that was around them was gone. Fred spoke first, or at least, Harry thought it was Fred. He honestly didn't care.

“Harry, glad to see you poking your head into the world again.”

“Yes, must say its been a long time.” George continued. Harry rolled his eyes. Crap, they were starting the twin speak shit. He didn't have time for this.

“What about six years?”

“About that I think, maybe closer to seven.”

“It was seven, and if you two have anything important to tell me, get on with it,” Harry said.

“Do you really think we didn't realize when you bought some of our stocks and assets?” Fred asked. The twins grew rather serious, which was not a surprise for Harry, but it did not do the two of them justice. Clashed with their personalities it seemed.

“Yes, by our count, you own about a quarter of our business,” George added. Harry nodded, not seeing an actually question yet that needed his answer. “Now, that got us thinking. Why would he do that?”

“After all, he walked out on this world.”

“Or did he? We only know that there was a tiff between you and Ron.” George and Fred look at each other before looking back at Harry. He raised an eyebrow in response, still waiting to answer their question. If they ever got to it.

“About Hermione, wasn't it?

“Yes, and then Ron started dating her.”

“But we never saw them together, not til the Lupins' wedding at least,” Fred stopped here, letting the words sink in. Or they would have had Harry not already spoken them in therapy.

“So what really happened then, Harry?”

“What did Ron do to make you leave?”

“No, what did he do to Hermione to make you leave?” Both twins began to nod at this. Harry looked between them for a moment. In a round about away, they had come to his rational of thinking. Although they did not apologize to him, he began to question if the twins ever needed to apologize to him. They had always stayed out of the disputes that Harry had first had with Molly. In private they even sided with him. They trusted him more then they let on, and he still did not know how much they trusted him.

“Do you really want to know?” Harry caught Hermione's eye as she began to walk across the room to them. The store had to be enlarged , there was no way that all of this could fit in the store that he helped pay for.

“It'd be nice, especially if Ronniekins screwed up again.” The twins shared a smile at this.

“He did more than that Fred,” Harry said. “Possible committed a few crimes along with it, but lets save those for the finale.” The twins's faces grew pale, both of them stammering to get out words.

“Did he....?” George started, but he could not finish. Fred didn't have much luck either. Harry shrugged his shoulders.

“Bugger's the only one that knows,” Harry said. He felt a shift in the room. “He's coming this way isn't he?” The twins nodded. Harry took a deep breath before letting go of the pocket watch and taking his hands out of his pocket. He should have brought his wand, not that he needed it, just would have hidden a couple of his final secrets from the general public. “Well, I guess the show is starting early.”

-->

Ron walked up to them slowly. Harry kept his back to the jerk, waiting for Ron to make the first move. He felt Ron stop behind him. “Fred, George,” Ron said without much kindness or emotion. The twins looked at each other then backed away. Smart move by them. Harry was starting to wish that he could make such a smart move. “Harry.”

“Weasley.” Harry turned to look at Ron, noting that he was probably stronger then Ron now, despite Ron working for the Cannons. Guess working away the pain helped him more than he thought.

“What you doing back Harry?” Ron asked. There was a smile on the man's face, but Harry could see the anger in Ron's eyes.

“Fixing bridges,” Harry said calmly. Ron's face become contorted in confusion. “And breaking a couple of them down.” He felt the anger in that space just below his heart starting to boil. Not yet. “How have you been Ron?”

“Great, me and Hermione are getting married, did you know that?” Ron said. Harry wanted to say yes, and that she broke it off, but really if given the chance, he wanted Ron to dig himself into a hole even deeper than the one he was starting in.

“Hermione and I,” Harry corrected.

“Whatever, the point is that we're getting married,” Ron said with so much resolve that it sounded like he believed himself. Harry arched an eyebrow at this. This was getting too easy.

“So where is she? I mean, shouldn't she be with you right now?” Harry asked. Ron faulted at this, the confidence leaving his face.

“Well, she's not here right now,” Ron looked around, like he was trying to spot Hermione. Harry knew where she was, coming from behind Ron to scare the living shit out of him. That was what Harry figured Ron was full of, because there was nothing else coming out of him.

“Don't say that Ronald,” Hermione said as she took the final step from around him. Ron jumped a foot off the ground, though it didn't matter. Harry's glare never left Ron's face as he began to look at Hermione.

“Love, what are you doing here? I thought you were visiting your parents, and coming later,” Ron said.

“When did it happen Ron?” Harry asked before Hermione could respond. Ron looked confused before his eyes shone.

“Well, I asked her back in-” Harry cut him off.

“No, when did you start telling yourself these lies? And believing them?” Ron stopped at this, the confusion replaced with anger.

“What's that supposed to mean Potter?” Ron growled at this and took a fighter's stance. By now a crowd was beginning to form around them, and he could see Mrs. Weasley storming her way toward them.

“That Hermione loved you, that you deserved her, that I treated her poorly,” Harry said.

“Those are true,” Ron said. Harry chuckled, he couldn't help it. Now that Ron was before him trying to defend himself, it seemed kind of pathetic. “What's so funny Potter?”

“You live in a delusional world, filled with only the lost hope that you could amount the emotional capacity to fulfill a woman's desires to the point that she needs you more than anything else.” Ron's stance grew back to confusion before quickly shifting back to the anger that he held. “You have no idea what I said do you?”

“Doesn't matter, you're still the jerk that drove Hermione away,” Ron spat. Harry took two steps toward Ron, lifting him off the ground with all the strength he could muster. Which surprised him by easily lifting Ron.

“Only after I found the two of you together,” Harry growled, “in my bed.” He took several deep breaths as he grabbed hold of that anger below his heart. He had almost let it loose, and he did not want that to happen just yet. He was saving it for someone special, and as he felt the magic burn in the air, he realized that someone special had joined the party. He turned Ron, letting him get hit by the red spell sent his way.

“And that folks is how you take care of them enemy,” he said as he unceremoniously dropped Ron to the ground. “You let them take out each other first.” Molly stopped in her tracks, her wand held at her side as Harry began to approach her. “Hello, Molly.” The famous Weasley temper had to come from somewhere, and it seemed that Molly was the source. Harry smiled at her, knowing it was only going to make her more angry. “Where's my invitation?”

“What?” He shocked her, good.

“My invitation to the Lupins' wedding,” Harry said. “I know I was invited, they told me that you were in charge of it, so, tell me, where is my invitation?”

“It must have got lost in the mail,” Molly said, looking around everyone.

“While normally I'd say yes, but owls don't let go of their letters without a fight, and all of mine go straight to Gringotts,” Harry said. “They never got it, so I'm asking you again, where is my invitation?” He let his voice rise at the end, tapping into that pit of anger. A crowd had gathered around them now, one that Harry knew wasn't going to like one of two people by the end of the night. He hoped it wasn't him. “I'll ask you again one more time. Where is my invitation?” Molly mumbled something, her glaze glued to the floor.

“In the trash?” Harry asked. Molly's face shot up at this, beet red with angry eyes. “Now, why is that?”

“I do not need to answer to you,” Molly shot back. “You're nothing but a troublemaker, out to ruin the lives of my children.”

“Ruin your childre- Ruin your- Ruin....” Harry felt the anger toppling over. He vaguely heard something shatter and a couple of shrieks, but his eyes focused red on Molly as he glared her down. “You ruined my life with your manipulations.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Molly scoffed. “I was only looking out for my children.”

“Yes, your children, not the extra who thought he was apart of your household,” Harry's voice near a dead whisper, but the room heard it. Molly stumbled back as if slapped. Good. He stood in silence for several minutes before deciding to start ripping her apart. “When do you tell Ron that he deserved Hermione?”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Molly said. Her eyes stayed on Harry's though he knew he was getting to her.

“How about telling Ginny to use a love potion on me?” Harry said. “She's a lot stronger woman than you gave her credit for.” Harry began to pace slowly, knowing that his calmness made Molly only angrier. “She told me what you told her, and made the decision on her own to try to get my attention without such atrocities. Worked too by the way.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny blushing. Her telling him of her mother's words had been the first corner stone breaking between him and the matriarch of the Weasley household. “Seems your children really don't need your help to thrive. Or at least, most of them don't.” Harry kicked Ron for emphasis, causing Molly to gasp, and several others.

“Now, we're going to try this revolutionary idea,” Harry said. “We're going to tell the truth.” He waited for a moment, knowing his voice was getting more and more condescending. “And by we I mean you.”

“Don't you dare take that tone with young man,” Molly said, waving her finger in his face.

“So now you think you have a right to boss me around?” Harry said through his laughter. “You kick me out of your house when I refused to bend to your whims in regard to what you thought was best. And now you're trying to get me to listen to you.” He clutched his stomach, the laughter becoming too much. He stood up as the bolt of red streamed past him. “Now that wasn't very nice.”

“How dare you come here and ruin this for everyone else?”

“I ruined it? I ruined it?” Harry said. “I wasn't the one who made your son steal my girlfriend from me. I wasn't the one who deluded the rest of my family into following my orders or else. I wasn't the one who did not invite the last remaining link to my friend's father to their wedding.” He looked at Hermione and Ginny for a moment. “I think I confused myself on the last one.” He got some nervous chuckles out of it though.

“Wedding?” Ginny stage whispered to him.

“Thanks,” Harry said. “I'm not the one who took over a wedding that you really had no right to take over.”

“It was my son's wedding.” Molly was reeling now.

“No, it was supposedly Ron's and Hermione's wedding. Tradition dictates that the bride designs and plans her own wedding.”

“She knows nothing about how a proper wizarding wedding should be.” Molly scoffed at this. Harry felt the pit below his heart overflowing.

“And in that statement alone, you prove to me why you are unfit to welcome someone like Hermione into your home,” Harry said. The room was dead silent as Harry's words sunk in.

“Ron's too good for her, that's all is really is,” Molly said, dismissing Harry's implication.

“No, Hermione was too good for Ron,” Harry said. “Any girl is too good for Ron. You shoved so much shit into your son's head about deserving something in life, he hasn't done a honest day's work in his life.”

“He works hard for his money.”

“Oh really, then how come the manager of the Cannons asked me if we should look for another Keeper?” Harry said. There was a pause of confusion in the air. “By the way, I own them.” he said with a dismissive air. “I'm done telling him to keep Ron on. He's going to have to earn his spot like the rest of them.” He looked at Molly for a moment, realizing how pathetic she looked. Standing there, huffing and puffing, trying to blow the brick house down. “No one deserves the world on a platter. You have to work for what you get in life.”

“Like you've done a day's work before,” Molly snapped back.

“You know, you're attacking the person, not the argument,” Harry admonished with a grin. He knew this would only get her angrier, but really, did he care? “Bad form, bad form. But no, I work hard. I worked at a radio station these last couple years, turned the place around. Half the fun with making money is turning it into more money. Ask the twins.” Harry waved at the two, knowing he had put them on the spot. He turned back to Molly knowing the anger was only bubbling over now. He did not want to tip the pot just yet. Or did he even want to do that at all? “But that's not the point. I'm saying that Ron doesn't want to work because you made him that way.”

“You're saying that this is my fault?” Molly stepped back, as if slapped again. If only...

“Yes, and not just Ron's lack of aptitude for achievement in life,” Harry said. “But for Ginny's childhood crush on me, and consequently her actions that made her choose poorly in an attempt to garner my attention. For chasing your two oldest sons out of the country, and then another out of the family. For your inability to control your twins.” Harry looked at Fred and George before laughing, “though I doubt that that you tried very hard after they were born.”

“I raised my family the best I could,” Molly said. “You just messed everything up.”

“How?” Harry asked. “How was I the one that messed up, when it was your son that used my girlfriend?” Molly stood silent. The anger was too much. “You son nearly destroyed my life, and all you can say is I messed up? That this is somehow my fault? What the hell is wrong with you woman?”

“You can't talk to my mother like that,” Fred said. Both he and George stepped forward, only to fall flat on their backs when Harry waved his arm at them.

“Your family already screwed me once, I'm not letting you interfere until this is done.”

“What's done?” The other asked.

“A reckoning,” Harry said. “Because the truth is always painful.” He turned his back and began to walk away, stepping on Ron as he did so. He stopped as he stood right in front of Hermione. He saw the Lupins standing beside her and Bill and Fleur were off a little further behind him, though, Bill was making his way toward Harry.

“What you've done, mother, is nearly unforgivable,” Bill said. That stopped all anger in the room, and the added bonus of stopping all conversation was something Harry was not going to argue with.

“And what was that William,” Molly snapped back.

“You let the actions of one child run the entire family, because those actions suited your 'one-big-happy' family mind,” Bill said. “We're going home.” He turned and grabbed Fleur outstretched hand before guiding her off through a parted crowd.

“He has chosen sides,” Harry said. He turned toward the twins, looking at this with steel in his eyes. “Are you going to choose yours or would you like to hear more?” They had already sided with him, why the hell would they move against him now? He mentally shook his head. This was not about sides, this was about right and wrong. He wanted them all to understand what had been done to him. “I'm choosing for you. You will hear more.”

“Enverate!” He waved his hand toward Ron. Ron shot up, surprised at the change in his position. He spun around, his fist clenched in anger. “You wish to tell your mother what happened or should I?” He remained silent though, looking between Harry and his mother.

“Harry, stop toying with them.” Harry looked at Hermione a moment before nodding. “I want to go soon. The company is getting fouler by the minute.”

“So you're spreading you legs for him now?” Ron said. He looked at Hermione for a moment before turning his glare back at Ron. Harry took a step forward, but Hermione shook her head, moving up behind him. Tapping Ron on the shoulder, she slugged him, knocking him to the floor.

“You're the only lowlife here, Ronald,” Hermione said. She looked at Harry for a moment before walking away. He wanted to talk to her, tell her what an amazing punch it was, but really, Ron still needed to be put into his place.

“You couldn't handle her anyway Ron,” Harry said. “That's why I believe you never were intimate with her.”

“How the hell do you know?” Ron spat, blood covering a bit of Harry's shoes. Harry felt the pot overflow for a moment. It was too much for him to handle. As his magic stretched out and stunned Ron again. Damn bastard.

“You're still alive,” Harry said. He stood up and looked back at Molly. Ron's little outburst there stole the rest of his hate, or at least the hate he was willing to part with at the moment. “Your son acted to abuse the relationship he had with Hermione in an attempt for me to leave her. He got her drunk one evening while out with friends than took advantage of her once he had gotten her back to my flat.” He looked at Seamus and the rest of the friends he had in Gryffindor. They all looked ashamed, like they knew some part of this, or maybe even all of it. More people that decided what was best for someone, without their consent. “Following that, he proceeded to tell you all that the two of them were dating, while telling Hermione he was out looking for me. Hermione was left in the dark at Hogwarts as she tried to rebuild her life with some resemblance of order. I left for Oxford and have been in the area for the last six years. Your son is nothing more than a liar and a cheater. And you choose him over me, someone who thought of you as family. Be happy with your choice. You'll be damn lucky to get another one.” With a final push through his anger, he spun and apparated out of the room, and through the wards that had once stood around it.

I0I

The Weasleys, or at least all of them but Ron and Molly, tried to contact him the following month. A word would have been too much from them. He wanted to keep his distance for as long as he possible could. They deserved more than what he gave them, but that pit of anger that hung right below his heart was too strong. He had seen what that pot could do to a man in Voldemort, hell, he had used it to finish Voldemort off. No, that anger was too strong. He hated the man he became when he let the pot overflow, let the pit become more than a pit, but a lake of fury.

Harry had made sure he did not spend time fretting over his anger. He became lost in his studies, to make sure he did not have to think about the New Years Eve Party. Olivander had taken him under his wing and he felt like this course of action, enchanting, was difficult even for him.

The problems came not from the spells, but from the patience of writing the spells, for lack of a better term, on the object meant to be enchanted. To a novice, the writing has to be perfect and to do that, time is take to ensure that the totality of the enchantment works. Yes, he was better at it than most, simply because of his ability to sustain his magic for so long while using it, but he still had trouble writing the magic from time to time. He wanted to finish his apprentice piece before the end of spring, in time for Luna's birthday. Olivander was hopeful of that too, saying that then he could start with magical objects and repairs following it.

“That's enough for today Harry.” He looked up at Olivander from the box in front of him. He was working on enchanting the box with a music charm. The problem was not laying the charm down, the problem was weaving it between several other charms he had already in place, such as a locking charm, a security charm tied to the locking charm, a lumos tied to opening the box, and a nox tied to closing the box. Those four along had taken him the better part of January, and none of them were perfect yet. Damn box locked in place when he opened it at times, then the light would shine through the edges of the box when he closed it. He finally got all of that worked out. Hopefully.

“You think this will be finished in time?” Harry asked.

“My boy, you've made more progress than any of my other apprentices have to date,” Olivander said with a laugh. “Enchanting is about patience, not speed. Its about skill, not the flashy charms. An enchantment is for life, so we must ensure that they are done right.”

“Its harder with magical cores, isn't it?” Harry asked. He set the box aside, before standing up from the table.

“Yes and no,” Olivander said. “Once you know how to react to the magic inside of something, then it becomes easier. Which is why you weave the magic now, instead of first trying with something like a core.” Harry nodded, trust his mentor.

“Thank you sir, see you tomorrow then,” Harry said. He left the store, knowing that he'd be mobbed by the masses on the way to the Leaky Cauldron.

With his return to the Wizarding world, he found that life was not quiet for him anymore. He always was being asked to do something, bothered by someone to help them with a problem. Especially that damn Ministry. Not a day went by that he didn't get a letter, asking for his help in the Magical Law Enforcement department or to return to work for them. He discarded those letters every day. People did not change because of the war, if anything, they fell into old habits faster. Hogwarts sent him letters every day, asking to come in as a guest speaker. He reluctantly turned those down. As much as he wanted to revisit the castle, they wanted to discuss the one thing that did not need to be discussed. How Voldemort died.

He never wanted to talk about, for the simple reason was it did not matter how the battle ended. He wasn't ashamed of what he did to end the war, nor was he angered by it. It had to be done and he was the one to pull the trigger, so to speak. The war was won, that was the important thing. The Quibbler reported a generic statement of what had occurred, and beyond being bland, there was nothing wrong it. There was no specular battle, no great duel between enemies. Voldemort was dying when Harry met him already, the lost Horocurxes doing enough to damage his link to the living. Fear was in the man's eyes, and fear was still in them when Prior incantum ended, backfiring on Voldemort once again. The “duel” lasted only a moment, though. It did not haunt, for he had lost no one close to him. Yes there had been deaths, but his friends all made it out alive. What more could he ask for?

As he walked, he felt a normalcy fall over him. Not that that he ever could be normal. He just finished a day working on enchantments. Even if that was the only thing he had going for him, he doubted he'd still be normal.

“I hope you're happy Potter.” Harry turned toward the source of the voice. Ron was standing by the entrance to Knockturn Alley, and from his stance looked both drunk and ready for a fight. Smell of alcohol, stronger stuff, reached his nose. He felt his insides knot a little at the want, at the draw for a little liquid courage. His hand went to his pocket watch, holding it tight. The want never went away, it always was there. Haunting him, taunting him.

“For what?” Harry said.

“For ruining my life,” Ron stumbled toward him. Harry shook his head at the pathetic sight before him.

“It seems to me that you're doing a pretty fine job of that yourself,” Harry muttered. He watched Ron stumbled closer, drawing a crowd around them. The smell was stronger. His throat ran dry. It was only one drop, to quench his thirst.

But one drop could destroy a man. Or at least, this man.

“You could have had anyone, anyone, and you took her,” Ron slurred through as he made his way closer to Harry. “She was mine, you knew that I loved her first.”

“Technically her father loved her first, but that's beside the point,” Harry said. “But she was not mine to take. She is her own person. She made the decision.”

“Like how she slept with me?” Ron said. Harry shook his head, pulling back on that damn pit of anger again. Why did it have to be so damn hard to control? It was easier with the drink, and part of him rationalized like that every day.

He was glad to have another part of him talk him out of doing stupid things like that. If only he had listened to that conscience of his more often.

“You took that choice away from her Ron,” Harry said. “why did you do it Ron? Why did you try and take her from me?”

“You didn't deserve her,” he muttered as he stumbled forward. Harry took a step back, his compassion ending at not frying the man's arse.

“No one does,” Harry said. He turned and walked away, letting Ron fall to the ground. His twin brothers were rushing out of the shop in his direction. Harry didn't need to take a second look to know that Ron hated who he had become. The bottle said it all.

A/N: Okay, I hate these things as much as the next reader, but I have to add this. First an apology. Life sucks, get over it. Things come up, and I failed a personal deadline. Nothing more. I wanted this scene to work well, and I think I did a good job. If he's not as angry as you think he should be well....that's life I guess. Harry is as angry as I need him to be. I hope you enjoyed this story, I've enjoyed writing it. Only one more chapter, then the epilogue. Thank you, and read and review.

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Harry could only watch as Luna moved out of his house. He knew that it was coming, had been for a long time. He knew the reasons for it were simple. He could never be Mary's father, and Luna did not want to give that illusion to her daughter. He agreed to those conditions when she came to live with him. He understood them for what they were. He and Luna were brother and sister. Nothing more. And he could not become a father to Mary if they could not become anymore.

Spring passed quickly for Harry, what with practicing his enchantment skills and working to set up several business with loans. Several people had come to him, asking for help for their businesses. In return for his help, they all offered him a portion of their profits. Which he only needed was more money. With the money gained from their investments, and the Twin's store, Harry began to set up a orphanage for magical children. When word got out to the newspapers, mainly Luna finding out, offers of support came in from all over. Not that it needed it, but the thought was kind. He sent the other support the way of St. Mungo's, letting them deal with the overflow.

“You'll still come and visit?” Mary asked. He gave her a smile. She had asked the question already ten times earlier that day.

“When I can,” Harry said. “For the most part though, it'll be you and your mum.” Mary nodded, before hugging him tightly around his neck. She let go of him before running out of the house, toward Luna. Harry followed at a slower pace, knowing Luna wanted to say one last goodbye.

“Thank you.” Luna looked at him for a moment before nodding.

“You don't need to thank us for staying.” Luna said. “But its time for you to move on.”

“Don't you mean you two?” Harry asked. He knew what she wanted him to do, she had been pushing him to taking the next stpe for the last few months.

“You need to take a chance Harry.” Luna looked at Mary as the little girl climbed into the van. “I want to try and date again. Maybe find a man that I can trust.” Her gaze turned toward Harry, a smile gracing her face. “Other than you of course.”

“You really think I should?” Harry scratched the back of his head. “Try and work things out a little further.”

“You're friends now,” Luna said. She hugged him tightly before letting go, kissing his cheek. “Let Fate decide if you should be more again.”

“I'm scared,” Harry said. “I don't think I'm strong enough to lose her again.”

“You won't!” Mary said from the car. Harry looked at the little girl surprised before trying to gauge a response out of Luna.

“Are you two always going to be tossing little bits of my future at me?” Harry smiled at her, taking any anger out of his words. Luna looked back at Mary for a moment before nodding.

“Only when we know you're wrong,” Luna said. She left him there, humming a Mont Python song as she walked away. He smiled, knowing that was the song he had enchanted into her jewelry box. A sombre song, but Luna felt that it fit her mood most of the time. That and it was her mother's favorite.

He had come a great deal in the last year. A lot further than he had every thought he'd be. He was back in the wizarding world and repairing his relationship with some of his friends. A lot of them, he refused to speak to, knowing what they had done was too much. The Weasleys still were trying to reach him, though, a year ago that would have never happened. If anything, they were still planning the “wedding” of the century. Another one that Harry would not have gotten an invitation to probably. Lupin and Tonks probably wouldn't have been talking to him still, and he probably would have fallen back on his promise, never getting to see Mary grow up. He'd never have had Hermione back in his life...

He wanted to take that chance, but he knew that for some reason if it did not work, he would not live to see another year. He would break his promise. He would lose everything he gained just to forget the chance of becoming sane again. With a sigh he looked at the setting sun.

Harry knew he was at a cross roads, a crossroad that lead to his salvation or damnation. The problem he was having, was which bridge to cross, which bridge to burn. He had spent a good six years in limbo and another two climbing out of it. All because Hermione was not a part of his life.

Walking swiftly back into the drawing room, he lit the fire with a wave of his hand. He stared at it for over an hour. The sky had grown dark, night had fallen. And yet he still had not made up his mind. That however did not stop him from firecalling her.

He knelt down in front of the fireplace, waiting for Hermione to fully enter the other side of the line. His nerves were frayed, too much patience could kill a man, he decided.

“Harry, everything alright?” Hermione asked. She looked a little tired, but that could have just been the green glow from the fire.

“I was wondering if I could take you out to lunch this weekend,” he said. He felt the words rush out of his mouth before he was finished.

“I'd love to,” Hermione started. He felt his heart skip a beat and then plummet as she finished. “But I have lunch with my parents on Sunday and Ginny on Saturday.”

“Oh,” Harry said. The feeling left his body and he felt all thought processes stop.

“What about on Friday or Saturday night?” Hermione asked. Her voice was so small, he thought he had missed her saying it. Or that it was wishful thinking. Her cheeks darkened though, as the fire betrayed the color that had filled them.

“I'd like that,” Harry said. He gave her a smile, and felt like taking her hand in his. Which was a silly thought, he couldn't reach through the fire. “There are some things we need to discuss.” His thought processes stopped again. Guess he did make a decision. His best ones were usually done without thought. It was when he thought about his problems that only made it worse.

“About us?” Hermione asked. His smile widened at the hope in her voice.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding slightly. He felt a weight leave his chest as she giggle softly.

“We better make it Friday then,” Hermione said. Two days away. He could handle that. Maybe... “You want to pick me up here, or meet somewhere.”

“I'll pick you up there,” Harry said. “The place I want to go to you probably don't know too well.”

“Fancy?” Hermione asked. He nodded, again wishing he was there with her. He felt awkward kneeling in front of the fire.

“If that's okay with you.” Hermione gave him a smile before nodding. He felt his heart flip. Damn thing hadn't done that in near seven years. Not since she lived with him. Best not go there yet. Nothing was confirmed. “So I'll see you Friday then?”

“It's a date,” Hermione said. She looked horrified for a moment at her words, at least before Harry spoke.

“So it is,” he said. He kept the floo open for another moment, watching as Hermione's face turned a deep color and confusion ran rampart across it. “I'll see you then.” He closed the floo before standing up. Stretching his back, he began to hope that he did not just make a big mistake.

I0I

Friday came faster than Harry thought possible. He still had no idea what to say to her, or how to approach anything he wanted. He was lucky to have picked out a restaurant, Le Fey, a newer French cuisine place in Diagon Alley. He had to nearly buy out the whole place to get a level a privacy for him and Hermione. Maybe not buy out the whole place, damn manager just charged him that much for the privacy it seemed. It would be worth it though.

Their 'couples' therapy had finished months ago, yet they still could not stop talking about the past. He knew she was tired of doing that, and tonight was about something 'new.' Or at least a new topic for them: the future.

Fixing his tie once more, he checked himself over in the mirror. The suit was Luna's idea, saying he should be a fancible as possible. He doubted that was a word, but he didn't question Luna. He bought a new suit, tailored rather quickly. There was nothing special about it, even the tie was pretty tame, a dark green to match the vest he wore underneath as well. One last run of his hand through his hair did nothing to calm his nerves as he apparated out of his home.

With a quick pop and squeeze through the ether, Harry stood in front of Hogwarts. “you still have no idea what you're going to do,” he muttered to himself.

“What are you going to do, Mr. Potter?” He spun in direction of the voice, nearly fall over. He hoped he was going to fall over because of his lack of balance, not because Hermione was drop dead gorgeous. Which she was, but then he would be even further gone than he thought.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Harry managed to get out. He stared at her for several seconds, wondering if she had been poured into that dress.

Hermione wore strapless green dress that hugged curves closer than rain on a window. The shawl she had covered her shoulders, with her light brown hair falling softly onto the shawl. He skipped over her torso and chest, because if he stopped and looked there, he'd be staring until she slapped him. She looked taller, and he let his eyes travel down to her legs. High heels. He had seen the purpose of those in the women at the clubs he went to. They aided Hermione beautifully. Tonight was going to be a long time, and the smile that creep over his face showed how much he was going to love it.

“Wow,” Harry let out.

“Wow, now is that a good 'wow' or a bad one,” Hermione asked. She took a step closer. She wasn't completely stable in those shoes, probably because she never wore them much, even when they were dating.

“Wow, as in, holy crap my best friend is smokin',” Harry said. She laughed at this, a hand covering her mouth as a blush covered her cheeks. He blushed and looked away, embarrassment flooding him.

“Thank you,” she said finally putting her hand back down. He finally looked at her again, knowing that she like his statement. And happy that she took it as the compliment it was. She gave him a once over before speaking again, her voice nervous. “You look good too.” Harry smiled, happy to see her return it.

“Ready?” he offered his arm, though he had not thought to. She took it, her hand warm against his elbow. “On the count of three. One “

“Two” Hermione smiled as she spoke. He felt that damn flutter again. If his heart kept up, he might have a heart attack before even telling her why he wanted all this. Irony upon irony, it was because of her and what she did to him that he wanted to talk about.

“Three.” His magic surrounded them, drawing them through the ether and to the apparation point outside Le Fey. Hermione gave him a smile and his arm a squeeze as they landed.

“You make it look so easy,” she said as he lead them through the door.

“What?” he said.

“Apparation.” He raised an eyebrow, though he did not say anything. What was difficult for some, was relatively easy for him at times. He shrugged his shoulders, letting the silence surround them. It was only then he heard Hermione gasp. Guess she figured out where they were finally.

“Think this place is okay?” Harry asked with a chuckle in his throat. She nodded, holding onto his arm tighter as little fairy lights danced around the room, giving a soft glow to the place. The tables were set up intimately, with enough space and probably a silencing charm around them to stop any of the conversations from reaching outside ears. While normally that would be fine, Harry still felt they deserved a little more privacy than that.

“Right this way please,” the maitre'de said. He led them through the restaurant. Hermione's hand stayed lcoked to his elbow as they walked, her eyes darting around to catch everything and anything. Harry felt like doing the same, but he just couldn't tear his eyes off of her.

Once shown to their table, Harry let the maitre'de go. He wanted to be the one who did the work tonight, not someone else. Pulling out her chair for her, Harry gave Hermione a smile, urging her to sit. Her eyes were still dancing around the room, looking at the paintings and murals upon the wall.

“You ready for dinner?” Harry asked. She snapped out of whatever thought she was lost in, blushing as she looked at him. She took the offered seat without a word, smiling at him as he sat down across from her.

“This place is amazing,” she finally said as began to look at the menu placed in front of him. Great. Wines. He closed the menu, turning to look at Hermione. She was glowing right now, and while he wanted to attribute it solely to her smile and eyes, he knew that the fairies dancing around them added to her beauty. “How did you manage to get us a table here on such short notice?”

He raised an eyebrow at this before cocking smile. Now this was a good story. “I first flooed, asking if I could get a table. Not only was the man who took my call a jerk, told me that there was a three month waiting list.” he shook his head, making what he hoped was an affronted face. Hermione giggled, his desired outcome. “So I 'popped' over, and showed my face to the host on duty. Asked for the guy who answered my call and the manager.” He looked up and smiled at Hermione as a basket of freshly baked bread rolls floated in front of them and onto the table. “You'd be surprised what could be done with some name dropping, statements like “a disgruntled review for the Quibbler” and the name Harry Potter can do. Not to mention how much I offered for tonight.”

“Harry, you really didn't have to do all this,” Hermione said. She reached across, taking his hand in hers. The heat between the two hands felt nice and he squeezed her hand, wanting to hold onto it a little bit more.

“I wanted to,” he said. “And you're worth it. So stop questioning this, and enjoy it. We've got good food, in a good atmosphere, and even better company. What more could I ask for?” Hermione blushed as she picked up the menu in front of her. She looked at it for a moment before placing it back down as their waiter, though Harry would guess the man was actually the manager, came to begin their dinner.

“Good evening. My name is James. I shall be your server this evening. What wine have you selected?” the man said as he approached. Harry opened his mouth, ready to ask her which kind she wished, knowing it did not matter to him. Well it mattered, cause the want still called for it, but he wasn't going to give in. Not tonight. Not again.

“We won't be having any,” Hermione said. She held up the menu for the man to take, giving Harry a dazzling smile. He barely registered James still standing there shocked. He knew the wine list was extensive and had something for any type of meal.

“Hermione, its okay, get what you want,” Harry said. He leaned forward, unsure as to her response. “It doesn't matter the price.”

“There are more important things than money, Harry,” Hermione said. Her gaze was stern, reprimanding him for something. This must be the teacher face in full force. He had seen glimpses of it while they were at school, but really, a weaker man would have crumbled under it. Or at least Harry hoped so, because he sat back and shut up. Her eyes softened as she stared at him. “Nothing good ever came for either us by drinking. I gave it up a long time ago as well. It cost me my best friend.” There were tears in her eyes. He reached out and took her hand in his, giving her what measure of comfort he could.

“Get us a list of all of your non-alcoholic drinks,” Harry said. He turned away from Hermione, looking directly at the waiter. He was after all, waiting on them to make a decision. “If you don't have any, go out and get some.”

“Yes sir.” The man fled the room, and Harry turned back to Hermione, giving her a smile before chuckling. She began to giggle and it wasn't before long that they both were laughing. Harry hadn't felt this good in a long time. Maybe his gut was right after all. It did follow his heart all the time.

They fell into a comfortable silence, or at least, Harry felt like that was what it was. “Thank you,” Harry said. Hermione cocked her eyebrow, questioning him. “For coming here with me, for being so patient.”

“About what?”

“With me,” Harry gave her a smile, knowing that it would take a moment and...yep she figured it out. “Are you okay with this?”

“You mean us?” Hermione asked. Her gaze centered on the table before them, but he could make out the red on her cheeks.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Harry said. “For a long time, I was worried about what would happen if we got together and it failed.” He let his gaze drop to the flowers before them, not wanting to look at her, his shame present on his face. “I didn't know if I would be strong enough to stand on my own if this, if we failed again. It was like I had made the decision before it even happened.”

“What changed your mind?” Hermione asked. He looked at her. That wasn't the only question on her mind. There would be more, but this one seemed to be the most important one for her.

“Mary and Luna did actually,” Harry said. “Both made the comment that it was up to Fate, God or whoever if we were to be together. And they both said we would.”

“Seers?” Hermione asked. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Whether they are or not, it really doesn't matter.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “What matters is that they got me to think, do I want to lose you, before I even had you again? Do I want to give up and stop living because I didn't want to get hurt? No, I want to live, and I want to learn again what it means to have you a part of that. A part of my life.”

“As something more?” She smiled at him, squeezing his hand as a little warmth rushed through him.

“If you want to, I'm not going to complain,” Harry said. She nodded, as if affirming something to herself.

“What if we get into an argument? And I go off and be mad for a while?” Hermione asked. “Are you going to let everything go again and blame me for it?” Harry sat back, surprised. He knew this question was coming, he had felt it. He just wasn't expecting it now. “I'm not going to get into a relationship where I have to be on my toes to make sure I never upset you. Things don't work that way Harry, they never do. That's what started a lot of our problems to begin with. Thinking that they will just go away if we play nice.

“I want to be able to yell at you Harry. To get into a fight because of something stupid and then have great makeup sex because of it.” She took a breath here, looking like she was trying to hold back her blush. Harry knew she was right, but he wasn't about to get a word in edgewise. “Couples fight Harry. Its all apart of setting boundaries and figuring out what to do next. Compromise and concede. Couples do these things so they can grow stronger. I think what gave Ronald his foot in the door was the fact that we never did.”

“Not talking about things,” Harry said. Girard's sessions had helped bring a get deal of their relationship to light, and gave him good ground to rebuilt upon. Hermione nodded before continuing.

“If we're ever going to work Harry, we have to be able to fight, to cry, hell to talk about our problems,” Hermione said.

“I'm game if you are,” Harry said. He knew what this would take, it had been the crux of his problem. Would she want to work at something new? He should have known her response. “This won't be like last time, where we just slip into the relationship, were it felt natural. But I think that if we both work at it, we can have something better then what we had before. Something stronger.

“Something warmer?” Hermione offered. He gave her a smile, knowing that he had let his job come between them. He let responsibilities come between what matter most and him.

“Warmer, happier, better.” Harry said. He reached across the table, pulling her hand to him. She leaned over the table, following her hand. Leaning up, he kissed her lips lightly, knowing anymore would end dinner for them earlier than planned. Happier, but earlier. Her eyes fluttered opened as he pulled back, sitting in his chair.

“You are such a tease, Potter,” Hermione said. She was still leaning over the table and sat back moments later.

“Me, look at what you're wearing,” Harry said with a laugh. “I hope you know that you're lucky I've got a strong will. Otherwise my conversations would be directed at your breasts.” She tried to glare at him, but began to giggle. “Seriously, you look beautiful. You always have.”Her face softened but she was prevented from responding. James their waiter was back.

“Here is the list that you requested, Mr. Potter,” James hurriedly handed him the list. Harry took a few moments to look at it before handing it to Hermione. She looked at it much longer than he did, though, she probably didn't know he was trusting her to pick something out. Everything just sounded too exotic for him to understand.

“We'll have the Hibiscus Lemonade please,” Hermione handed back the menu and didn't give the man a second glance as he left. “You're okay with that?” Her voice wasn't nervous, just curious.

“I would have said otherwise if not,” Harry said. “These past few months Hermione have not just been about fixing our friendship, you know that right?”

“It was about learning to trust me again wasn't it?” She frowned at this. Although the truth, he knew she didn't like it, not just by the look on her face. It didn't sit well with him either, but that was how things were. He felt betrayed and maybe he was or wasn't; he had to learn how to trust her again.

“And having you learn that you could trust me with your problems about me,” Harry said. “I may not be the best place to talk about them, but I can't fix what I don't know.

“So you had to learn to trust me again, and I had to learn to trust you,” Hermione said. They sat there for several minutes, not speaking. Harry kept going over in his mind, anything else, any other reason not to date Hermione again. He felt his body relax as he came to the conclusion that he did want to try again, to try and remake their relationship. Not just as lovers, but as friends. Warmth spread from his hand up to his body, and only then did he realize he was holding her hand.

James brought their drinks to them, and they took them without moving their gaze from each other. Harry didn't know which one of them smile first, but it was he that raised his glass. “To friendship.”

“To books and cleverness.” Hermione added.

“To bravery and courage.”

“To love.”

“To our love,” Harry finished. Their glasses touched, and he would have like to look back and say that he enjoyed the drink. It would have been a lie. He enjoyed the smile on Hermione's face as she placed her glass on the table and leaned across table. He met her halfway kissing once again. He was right. Things were getting better and he had no more doubt for his future. If they would fight, they would fight, but he had Hermione back in his life. The future looked bright indeed.

A/n: One more chap, the epilogue is due out tomorrow or so. No later than Friday. It will be out before they release the book here to that's all I got to say. Thanks for your patience.

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He looked at the flashing lights upon the board in front of him. Despite being the late night show, he was never lacking callers. They always wanted to hear some song that would ease their pain. He know they did for him. He flipped on his microphone as the song ended. “Its the midnight hour,” he began, “and it's Mister Midnight, alone and blue.”

The years moved by quickly, though, looking back, Harry was surprised that they had passed at all. Too much had happened for him to even understand that time had passed. He kept looking on the bright side of life, choosing to live instead of regret any mistakes he made. Oh, he tried to fix them if he did make a mistake, and he did not become one to never admit fault.

He never fully made peace with all of the Weasleys. He remained polite with the twins during their business dealings, but those did not happen too much. He left the twins to their work, only talking to them when they needed advise about expansion. Charlie and him never really talked to begin with, the only difference was a little more distance than before. His relationship with Ginny returned to normal, though if Harry was a betting man, he would say they were closer. Chalking that up to the amount of time that Luna, Ginny and Hermione spent together, he could not help but to work things out with Ginny. As for Bill, well, Bill and Fleur remained close friends of his, much closer than before the rift had occurred. He thanked Luna for this as she had been friends with Fleur before this all occurred and sparked the new friendship.

Molly and Ron were two different stories though. Molly never fully forgave him for airing the dirty laundry in public, but she never said a word of it to him. Arthur always stopped her from approaching him without his knowledge, or at least in public. Harry always had a pretty good idea of who was trying to stare a hole into the back of his head. Arthur made the attempt to have the two reconcile, but Molly would not give him the time of day unless they were on her terms. Harry was beginning to think that she never was going to understand that nothing was on her terms anymore.

Ron did not lose his job with the Cannons, though he came close. A week of drinking after the New Year's fiasco nearly cost him his job, but the manager spoke to him. Told Ron that he was being given one final chance. On the bench, and he had to earn the spot back onto the field. That seemed to snap Ron out of whatever funk he was in. He never did straighten out his life completely, as he was still reminded of his actions against Harry and Hermione by the press. They were cordial to each other at times, others friendly, but the distance between them from Ron's ploy never faded. Last Harry had heard from Ginny, Ron was dating Susan Bones for about a year now, and if he ever worked up the courage, he was going to pop the question.

Luna settled down finally with one Richard Delgato. She told him that while Fates had orginially designed her for another, she was happy with Richard. He treated her well, and loved Mary like his own. Mary liked him enough, though she still looked forward to spending time with Uncle Harry more than she did with her stepfather. When Harry approached Luna about this, she simply said that Mary had made up her mind about who the most important man in her life was at that moment. She wasn't about to force Mary to believe anything that she did not want to. Richard didn't resent it either, which eased Harry's mind a bit. He did not want to be the one that separated a father and daughter. As Mary grew older, she still came to him about problems, boy problems or Glenn problems as Harry had begun to call them. Richard was happy that he didn't have to deal with that quite yet as their oldest between him and Luna was still only three. Harry took it in stride, doing the best he could to help Mary out.

The Lupins settled into a quiet life, letting Harry choose the next course of action. He kept up contact with them, knowing that the contact was working to close what wounds had been left open. It was like with any other friends in his life. As they began to talk to him more, he felt he could forgive them more. They were expecting their first, due to a break through from Luna and Hermione in potions. Harry was glad they were apart of his life again, he wanted to know the kid. Especially when Remus asked him to be the Godfather.

The rest of his 'old' friends, he saw in passing. He never talked to them, never approached them, but he kept their light conversation polite if they approached him. While they may not have done as much as Only Neville was one to come up and talk to him. After one conversation, he realized how far away he had become from someone he considered a friend. Neville wasn't there that night, nor the night of the New Years party. Fact was simply that Neville had been traveling, gathering information for a Herbology book he was writing. Harry only started talking to Neville once Neville joined the staff of Hogwarts with Hermione.

Chuck and Shirley still talked to him regularly, and he spent some time over there as much as he could. The boys had entered Hogwarts with much fanfare for the family. Shirley held a grudge against Hermione for a long time, not trusting her fully to this day. That didn't matter to him though. The family still welcome him as a part of their life, and they were learning to accept Hermione as part of his life as well.

Hermione.

The one part of his life that seemed to flourish beyond compare. Their romantic dinner at the Le Fey early gave the manager a heart attack simply from refusing his advise and making their own choices. The added commentary about the manager's choices probably wasn't necessary but neither of them felt guilty from it. After that, they took it slow. They talked more often than they had as a couple before. Yet they slipped into being a couple so easily, like they had never stopped being one. Like the time they were apart never happened.

Time does heal all wounds it seems.

“This is my last show folks,” Mister Midnight's voice said over the radio. “After nearly ten long, on-again-off-again years of being on the air, I'm saddened to say that this personality of Mister Midnight will come to pass.

“Fear not, as another Midnight shall come and you will be feeling lonely and blue. This show was created to help ease the pain we all may feel when our hearts are broken and there is no one else to turn to. When no one else seems to know how you feel, this show will be here for you. To help lift that load on your heart a little. To make things seem a little brighter in life. I helped out where I could, now its time for someone else to help you out. The voice may change, but the message never well.

“So I leave you with a final song, one that I hope will help you always look on the bright side of life. This is Mister midnight, and this is my final song for you.” An upbeat tune began, one famous of British whit and humor. Harry closed his eyes, listening to the song. It was the same song he had set into Luna's music box, as well as the one that had become his mantra for the better part of five years.

“You ready?” Remus stepped into the room. Harry looked up from his desk and the radio sitting on it. The message had been prerecord, something he made in the morning. The show was his last, and he was looking forward to the bright future of tomorrow.

“More than,” He stood from his chair looking back at the tuxedo he was to wear. He was getting married tomorrow. To Hermione. To the only woman he had ever loved.

It had taken him five long years to get to this point, but Hermione was patient with him. They had been engaged for nearly two years, the publicity of the engagement itself sparked the long period of time. Hermione wanted their ceremony to be a private affair, something between them and a few friends. Nothing too fancy, though, Harry had persuaded her to choose the wedding of her dreams. Even that had been simply. He wasn't privy to any of the information, just the time he needed to be there. She wanted to surprise him. Told him to be ready at 9 p.m. The portkey was set to take him to their wedding destination. Harry guessed that they were getting married at dawn, though he still had no idea where.

Changing into his tux, he looked at the clock, noting the few minutes before he had to leave. Remus was standing by the door, holding the book Hermione had set up as the portkey. “So how many people are going to be there?”

“Not many,” Remus said. “But I'll leave the surprise up in the air for now.” Harry shrugged his shoulders before flicking his hand toward the tux. The tux vanished into the ether and transfigured into his own clothes in a second before the ragged shirt and shorts he was wearing appeared where the tux was. No shoes or socks though. Harry didn't think too much about it, letting it be apart of Hermione's surprise. Remus shook his head as Harry fixed his tie. “Sometimes Harry, I don't know how you do it.”

“With style,” Harry said with a smirk. He knew he could do things with magic that others couldn't. Heck, finishing Mary's wand in record time was enough to reinforce that with all of his friends. It had been his birthday present to her, the year before she went to Hogwarts. His final piece to finish his apprenticeship and he completed it perfectly. Perfectly attuned to Mary, Ollivander let Harry work on the wands as much as he wanted as the two of them expanded the business in more than simply wands. That was another story for another day though.

“How much ime we got left?” Harry asked. He turned back to Remus, holding a book in his hand.

“A few seconds,” Remus said. Harry nodded, letting himself relax. He was getting married. To Hermione. With a smile on his face, and his heart pounding in his chest, he touched book. He let the tug carry him to his love and future.

He stepped lightly onto the beach before him. He felt the salty air hitting him lightly as it filled his senses along with the impossible to miss smell of love. The sun was rising slowly over the sea, casting a glow onto the beach. “I know you're there.” He turned to see Hermione standing in a white sun dress with some yellow flowers in her hair. She wasn't wearing shoes either. He barely noticed the party gathered off to the left of him as he walked to her.

“You look amazing,” harry said. He did not move his eyes off hers as he said this, causing her to blush deeply.

“You ready?” Hermione asked, a smile crossing her wonderful face. Harry looked at her for a moment, completely consumed by her beauty.

“For what?” Harry asked, shaking his head in confusion. Hermione giggled, causing him to blush as he looked around. The rest of the small crowd was laughing as well. Good natured of course, but still embarrassing to forget it was your wedding. He took her hand in his, giving it gently squeeze.

He didn't remember much of the service or the people standing around them, watching them. He remembered the small tears in Hermione's eyes and reaching up to wipe them away. She gave him that smile of hers, the one that would let up the darkest night. He felt his heart start racing again. When the preacher asked for his vows, he stared at her for a moment.

“I'm a man of many words,” Harry started. “But right now, none of them mean anything to me. Besides these few. I'm sorry. And I love you.

“I'm sorry I waited so long to get back together with you, and I nearly lost you and myself. I don't ever want to experience something like that again. So believe me when I say that I may not always say I love you, but I will always show you it. From here, to eternity. You and me.” There were tears again in her eyes and he reached up to wipe them away. “So how about the preacher talks over us, and you and I get to the important part.” She nodded and threw herself at him, the whole foot and half between them when they just were holding hands. Her lips touched his and there was nothing else.

Later he was told of the applause and the preacher talking rather quickly, which would have been comical, but Harry did not care. All that he cared about was the warmth that filled him and made a part of his rise to attention as she did her best to reach his heart through his mouth. And damn it all, she just about did too.

As Hermione pulled back, he could not help himself. “We are so making a pit stop before the wedding.” She stole his breath for a second time.

I0I

For the Potters, life happened. There is not much more to it than that. Friends came and went, some stayed close friends, others passed by. As a couple, they laughed, they cried, hell, they even fought. Harry enjoyed the fighting at times, simply because he knew she just wanted to be mad for while. And damn if she wasn't right about the make up sex.

As he watched his wife walk down the stairs, their son's hand in hers and their daughter in her arms, he wanted to say that his life was perfect. He wanted to say that everything went smoothly and no Dark Lords popped up to frighten his children. But life happened. Things happened that he did not have control over. Lifting little Sirius James up and settling the toddler on his hip, he kissed Abigail Rose on the head as the babe snuggled closer to her mother. Kissing his wife chastely on the lips, he shared a smile with Hermione. No, things weren't perfect and there would always be conflict. But he had the best part of life with him right now, a lesson taught to him by the women in his life. And as the song goes, always look on the bright side of life.

A/N: I probably left a lot in the air. And part of me wants to go back and add to it, but another part says, hey, the important stuff got solved. The little things are left up to the readers to decide. Things like the identity of Mary's dad, really don't matter in the long run. What matters is the ending. And I hope I ended it well. Thank you and good luck, good night, god speed.

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