Author's Note: Yet again, this new chapter is the longest chapter so far. Insanely long, in fact. It answers some big questions and there is serious development. Plus we get to see some old friends.! Thanks for sticking with me, everyone. I'm still thinking five chapters with an epilogue, but I may have to push it to six at this rate.
As to the reviews, they've been extremely helpful. Thank you so much for the input. And I can't tell you how big I smile when I see a kind word about my writing. You guys are the best!
Aaaaand we're off!
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CHAPTER FOUR
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"Dot? Honey? Stay close, okay?"
The little girl paid her mother no mind, skipping ahead and singing a wizarding kid's song at the top of her lungs - something about an owl and a rat getting married. Harry and Hermione followed more slowly, Harry watching Dotty with more fondness on his face than was probably allowed.
"That girl is going to be the death of me," Hermione sighed. "She's brave as a lion. But
thankfully she's still wary of strangers."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "She looked a bit scared when I said hello in the bookstore."
"She's nervous around men in particular. I hope you didn't take it personally."
"I didn't," Harry assured her.
They'd spent the afternoon shopping for furniture and other amenities for Harry's new flat. Hermione had watched with wonder as, the instant she pointed something out and declared it was rather nice, Harry paid in full and gave the shop clerks orders to deliver it later that same afternoon.
"You're relying very heavily on my taste," she'd warned him.
"Even if you've got bad taste," he told her with a grin, "it's better than the taste I've got, which is none."
All in all, it had been a nice enough time. They kept the conversation deliberately light, not touching on serious subjects that were still hanging between them. Hermione told him about her job at St. Mungo's as an assistant healer, and how she hated her flat - that it was cramped and pricey and Dot's bedroom had no sunlight whatsoever.
But mostly their attention was taken up by Dotty, who had the boundless energy that all toddlers seem to possess. The little imp was already perilously close to having Harry wrapped around her little finger, but he'd heeded what he suspected were Hermione's wishes and tried not to act in any way fatherly. It seemed he'd thoroughly won Dot's affection, however, when he offered to buy her an ice cream cone just after lunch and she spun in circles, shrieking with wild joy. Hermione arched an eyebrow at him - the daughter of two dentists, after all - but he just shrugged and grinned at her.
Now they'd finished their furniture buying spree and were strolling to a nearby park. The late spring weather was really very lovely. Dotty was in denim coveralls with a polka dot t-shirt, chocolate ice cream still smeared generously around her mouth. Hermione wore a khaki skirt and a white cotton blouse. Despite the possible tension of the outing she seemed happy enough, and Harry was finding her unexpectedly pleasant to look at.
"You guys come here a lot?" Harry asked, as they stepped onto the playground woodchips and Dotty dove headfirst into one of the swings.
Hermione nodded. "A few times a week. She's made a lot of friends here. Tends to boss them around a bit, actually."
Harry looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Reminds me of someone I know."
Hermione grinned and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by an earsplitting shout: "PUSH ME! PUSH ME! PUSH ME!"
Laughing, Hermione started for the swings, but Harry stopped her. "I'll do the honors," he offered.
Hermione twisted her mouth up, but nodded. Harry knew she still felt very cautious about his time with Dotty. But she couldn't really complain about an innocent push on the swings, now could she?
Harry came up behind Dotty, smiling. "Do you want me to push you high?"
"YES!" she cried.
"I don't know," he said doubtfully. "Only big girls are allowed to go high. Are you a big girl?"
"YES!" she screamed again.
"All right then," he said, and gave her a good strong push. Not too hard, because Hermione sat a little ways away, shielding her eyes from the sun to see them better, and he didn't want to worry her.
Dotty laughed, one of those spluttering kid laughs of pure joy. "Higher!"
Harry obliged. Dotty laughed again - and he saw Hermione smile in spite of herself.
After a while they slowed down, and Dotty hopped off, racing for the slide. Harry went to go sit by Hermione on the grass.
"I've had fun today," he offered. "Thanks for helping me."
"No problem," she smiled.
"Ron's going to come over later and help move furniture around. Would you like to-"
"Can't," Hermione said quickly. "No one to baby sit."
"Right."
They fell into silence, Hermione watching Dot's gleeful progess across the playground as she conquered everything from the tiny slide to the tire swing that was entirely too big for her. She clung to it as if she were drowning and it was a life preserver, her little body draped over it, chubby arms grabbing on for dear life as she drifted in the slow circles she apparently found thrilling. Harry, for his part, glanced periodically at Hermione. She seemed deep in thought, and he wondered what she was thinking about.
Hermione was, in fact, remembering a very specific time from her pregnancy. She hugged her knees to her chest, unaware of even the warm sun beating down on her.
The lowest point in the entire ordeal, she thought, must have been when she was visiting the Burrow with Ginny one afternoon when everyone else was out. This was midway through her second trimester, when she was just starting to feel really huge and her emotions were getting the best of her.
*
I don't want any more chocolate, she almost sobbed, turning away the piece Ginny had offered her. I want Harry to get his arse back here!
Ginny didn't bother to hide her concern. Hermione, what can I do?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You're sweet, Ginny, but there's nothing anyone can do. Hermione let her head drop into her hands, feeling utterly exhausted. I'm completely alone in this, and it terrifies me.
Ginny moved around the Weasleys' kitchen table to sit next to her. I understand, Hermione. You have every right to be terrified. But you are far from alone in this.
Hermione looked up to see Ginny smiling at her gently - but instead of feeling comforted as usual, she just felt her spirits sink lower. You're being far too nice, she said bitterly. Honestly, Ginny, I know you're monumentally hacked off. Not only did I sleep with your ex-boyfriend when you weren't anywhere close to over him, but he got me pregnant. I dare say that put a snare in your plans to get back together with him.
Ginny looked some combination of surprised, confused, and hurt. My feelings for Harry are my own business, she said. I'm more worried about you at the moment.
Oh, please. You can't tell me you didn't hope I would get cold feet and decide not to have the baby after all. Now when Harry comes back - if he ever comes back - he has an obligation to me. That's just killing you, isn't it?
Even as she was speaking, Hermione didn't recognize her own voice. It was dark and angry and paranoid and a whole host of other things she would never normally be. But these desperate, scared feelings had been brewing for months, and they were starting to overwhelm her.
Ginny, for her part, had closed her eyes, one hand covering her face. Please don't say that, Hermione. It's not true.
I'm right, Hermione said, her voice growing hysterical. I know I am. And you want to know the stupidest thing? *I* don't want him to feel an obligation either.
Why? Ginny asked, genuinely puzzled. It's his child, Hermione. If anyone ought to feel obligated-
No, that's not what I mean. I don't want him to feel an obligation because I - because- Hermione hesitated, her voice cracking with strain. If he wants to be with me and raise our child, I want it to be because-
She broke off, heaving one loud sob, and buried her face in her arms. Ginny's eyes widened. Hermione hadn't finished, but she didn't need to. Her meaning was painfully clear.
Hermione, she breathed. I had no idea. Are you in-
Don't say it, Hermione begged her. You weren't supposed to have any idea. No one was. And now I've gone and told the one person who'll hate me the most for it.
I don't hate you, Hermione, Ginny said softly.
There was silence, as Hermione won the battle against tears; her face stayed dry. But she didn't dare raise her head and see the look on Ginny's face.
There's nothing wrong with having feelings for Harry, Ginny told her. Out of anyone, I ought to sympathize most.
I'm so sorry. About everything I've said. Hermione looked up, anguished. I'm making you out to be some catty, Machiavellian, man-obsessed trollop. And you're none of those things.
Ginny seemed to ignore her apology. Hermione, can I tell you something?
Sure. Anything.
I had a lovely time with Harry, when we were together. But throughout, I was….
Ginny trailed off, losing her nerve. Hermione looked at her curiously.
Okay, I'll just say it. I was jealous of you.
Jealous…of me?
Sure. I mean…you and Harry and Ron were the famous trio and all that. The cool Gryffindors. You must have known how us younger students looked up to you. You guys started the DA, and you took on Umbridge, and then there was all the Voldemort-related heroism. That didn't hurt. You all were pretty legendary by the time Harry and I got together.
But I'd seen it all up close. Closer than most. I saw that when the battles got tough, something would invariably happen: Ron would fall to the side, and you and Harry would go it alone. That includes the Triwizard Tournament, rescuing Buckbeak and Sirius, when we battled those Death Eaters at the Ministry, and so many other times. By accident or by design, you and Harry were always side by side. Just the two of you.
I know you love Ron like a brother, and I know he loves you just as much. But your bond with Harry…how can I put this? You two have a deep love for each other, you worry about the other's safety, but most of all you respect each other's opinions. It was you who convinced him to start the DA. No one else could have done that. It was you and only you who could get through to him when he got all barmy in Fifth Year. You're the head and he's the heart and together you just…work.
Hermione just sat there listening, mouth slightly open. She'd never known Ginny felt this way, never.
Now, even all that wouldn't have been enough to make me jealous. Not Rita Skeeter's articles, not Parvati and Lavender's frequent comments - none of it. I know you've been approached about this sort of thing before and you've both had to insist that you two are only friends till you're blue in the face.
But Hermione, I've seen the way he looks when he's afraid for you. Remember my first year, when you got frozen by the basilisk? I was young, not to mention off my rocker from being repeatedly possessed by the darkest wizard in history, but I wasn't blind. He was going crazy with worry.
And that goes all the way up to six months ago, when I was traveling with the Order and the four of us got attacked near the safe house. A Death Eater hexed you pretty badly, remember? Harry just about went purple from rage. I heard that Death Eater was had to recover in St. Mungo's for a full month before going into custody.
He and Ron will rush to defend you at any moment you're threatened or in trouble, but just get a good look into Harry's eyes and you'll see what I'm talking about, Hermione. Anyway, said Ginny quietly, looking embarrassed to have said as much as she had, I was jealous.
Hermione's eyes fell shut as a wave of exhaustion gripped her. It was too much to bear, quite literally, being pregnant and having to process all this. Having to beat back the hope that Harry might care for her the way she cared for him. But first and foremost, the hope that he would come back at all. And she had to do all this in front of Ginny, who wanted Harry for herself and who probably had a far more legitimate claim to him.
Hermione said nothing. Neither of them did. But Ginny seemed to understand, from the way she rubbed Hermione's back in gentle circles as they sat in the quiet kitchen.
*
"Knut for your thoughts?" Harry said gently after several minutes.
"I'm remembering something that happened during the pregnancy," Hermione said vaguely. "Not my finest hour."
Harry bit his lip, clearly feeling awful once again. "Hermione, if there's ever anything I can say to make up for that - for not being there-"
"Here's an idea," she interrupted in a low voice, looking at him straight on. "How about you stop bloody apologizing? You can't apologize for something you know nothing about, Harry. It was hell, and when you apologize you take away my power to be angry with you."
Harry's eyes went wide. "I don't mean to-"
"I know you don't mean to," she snapped. "But right now you're being Mister Sensitive, and it's driving me crazy. Owling my parents and apologizing, owling Mrs. Weasley and apologizing, asking to spend time with Dotty and get to know her, pushing her on the swings and buying her ice cream…."
"Hermione, I don't know what to say."
"Well, Harry," she hissed, "it's not my job to tell you what to say. Maybe you have to figure that out for yourself. For once in your bloody life, eh?
"You know," she went on, warming to her topic, "I always helped you out with girls. Always helped you see what they were thinking and feeling, and told you what the right thing was to say. I knew how you felt about Cho and I knew how you felt about Ginny and I nudged you toward both of them, I clued you in. Like the best bloody friend that I was.
"But I'm me, Harry, so there's no one to tell you what I went through to have Dot. How I stayed up nights, crying from the cramps in my lower back. How I had to live in my parents' basement for a year and a half and they drove me absolutely batty. How I could barely get my favorite boots on because my ankles were so swollen. How my skin went bad and I was exhausted twenty four seven and I almost lost my job at St. Mungo's because I was cranky all the time. Because you're you, Harry, you can't understand any of that on your own.
"That's not entirely your fault. You've had enough to deal with your whole life that you've had to focus on yourself. Relative to what you could be, you're remarkably unselfish. And, of course, brave. You saved the world, after all. But you deserted me, Harry. You deserted all of us. Even though you didn't know, couldn't know about Dot - what you did was bad enough."
Looking at her, Harry felt as low as he ever had in his life. Clearly it was hurting her to say all this, to be fully honest with him, because she knew it would cause him pain. That was just how good a person Hermione was.
But he was glad. Because once again, she was helping to guide him. Without even knowing it.
"Move in with me," he said.
Hermione just gaped at him. "What?"
"You gave me an idea just then, Hermione. There's nothing I can say that will make up for what I did - but I can do this for you. I know you're struggling to pay for rent and daycare both, even with your parents' help. Move in with me, there's more than enough space. It doesn't have to be permanent, just until you find some stability."
But it could be permanent, he wanted to add.
"Harry - I don't know what to say-"
He ventured a grin. "Excellent. Then the tables have turned at last."
Hermione's face remained serious, though she looked as if she were trying not to smile back. "I'll think about it, Harry. You're right. It is a good offer."
Dot was trotting up to them, her face and arms a little pink from the sun. "I wanna go home," she sighed, snuggling up to Hermione's front. "I'm tired."
"Okay, sweetheart." Hermione gave Harry a look over Dotty's shoulder, wordlessly telling him she'd be in touch. "Let's go."
Harry watched them walk away, Dotty holding Hermione's hand and trotting along at her side.
*
After a good deal of back-and-forth correspondence, or what Harry had taken to calling "owl tag," it was decided that the first gathering at his flat would be held the following weekend.
Mrs. Weasley arrived ahead of time, of course, to cook massive amounts of food and to hug him so tightly he thought he'd stopped breathing. She even brought her own groceries along. "Arthur, Ginny and some of the boys will be along shortly," she told him briskly, getting out all his new pots and pans. "My, who decorated this place? It looks professionally done."
It did look very nice, Harry privately thought. The plush sofa and armchair near the fireplace were strongly reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room. His bedroom, too, had a four poster bed, but without the heavy curtains. Everything was in nice, muted shades of blue, red and brown, which suited the wood-paneled rooms.
There was also some greenery. After Hermione and Dot had departed from the park, Harry had gathered up an armful of plants from the nearest flower store and set them everywhere in his flat. It was just the season for it, and they were starting to flower brilliantly.
The kitchen was the only space that still seemed rather bare. That, however, was changing dramatically as Mrs. Weasley filled it with the sights and smells of good cooking. Rather hopeless at it himself, Harry had ordered take out almost every night since moving in.
"I've got some old tidbits packed away that would spruce this kitchen right up," Mrs. Weasley was saying. "Clippings of recipes and things. Stuff I already know by heart. Would you like me to send them over, dear?"
"Huh? Oh, sure. Of course. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."
"And I hear Hermione might be moving in as well."
It was quite the non-sequiter, but Harry had been expecting it. He knew that Hermione would tell Ron and Ron would tell his mother, who wouldn't be able to resist bringing it up given the smallest opportunity.
"Well," Harry said, "there's a huge amount of space. The bedroom Hermione and Dottie could share is more than big enough for the two of them."
Mrs. Weasley gave him a beady look. There was no way Harry could know for sure, but he suspected she was thinking that wasn't how the sleeping arrangements would necessarily work out. This suspicion was essentially proven correct in the next moment, when Mrs. Weasley asked, "What did you think of my letter, dear?"
"Pardon?"
"The things I said about Hermione, I mean."
"Oh." Harry felt a bit shifty. "The bit about-"
"Yes," Mrs. Weasley said impatiently. "The bit about her feelings for you."
"If it's true," Harry said, heavily emphasizing the if, "how could I ever know for sure?"
"Sweetheart, you'll just know. If it sounds right and it feels right you'll just know. Now," she went on, turning businesslike, "you should set that lovely new dining table of yours. How many of us will there be?"
"Twelve," Harry said, counting swiftly in his head. All the Weasleys were coming but one - Percy still had his head so far up his arse he couldn't see the light of day - plus himself, Hermione, Remus and Tonks.
"You have all the supplies?" she asked him dubiously. "Plates? Cups? Silverware? Everything?"
"Yes, yes, yes and yes," Harry said. "Hermione took care of all the purchasing, Mrs. Weasley."
"Don't you get shirty with me, boy. I'm trying to help you throw a decent party!"
"Yes ma'am," Harry said, cowed. But he grinned to himself. Interfere though she might, he had definitely missed Molly Weasley.
*
By the time everyone arrived, the party was really quite lively. Harry had greeted everyone with fond hugs - especially Fred and George, who looked much older, and Ginny, who seemed close to tears as they embraced. Hermione and Ron were in a corner, chatting with Tonks and Remus and looking relatively relaxed. Dotty was moving from the arms of one adult to the next, equally infatuated with all of them.
When it came time for a toast, the task somehow fell to Fred and George. All the females at the table looked distinctly nervous as the twins clinked their glasses for silence.
"We won't lie, Harry, we've no idea where you've been and it makes us a tad upset," Fred began.
"But we're more than willing to forgive you," George went on, "because of your most generous nature. You financed our business in the beginning, after all, and we've just consumed a great deal of Firewhisky in your flat for absolutely no cost."
The whole table laughed as the tension of Fred's first remark flew out the window.
"It's a good thing you're in London, Harry, not only because you're likely to get more press this way, and we all know how much you love that-"
"-but also because there are some serious babes in the city. We know this for a fact, although they seem to go into hiding whenever we come out."
Though she couldn't possibly understand this remark, Dotty burst out laughing and clapped her tiny hands - probably mimicking the table's earlier response. This caused another round of hearty laughter.
"In conclusion, Harry, we wish you the best of luck in reentering the Wizarding World. You won't be sorry."
"And even if you are," George added, "it won't matter because you're not going anywhere, we'll tackle you to the ground before you can say `disapparate'."
"So welcome back," the twins said in unison, and the rest of the table chorused it, knocking their glasses together. Harry could only smile, wondering how he could have possibly stayed away for so long when there were people in the world this dear to him.
*
The evening seemed to pass by very quickly. Soon everyone was filing out the door, hugging and shaking hands, agreeing to get together again soon. "Next time at the Burrow," Bill insisted. Charlie nodded, chiming in: "We can have a proper Quidditch match, Harry. What do you say? Seeker versus seeker."
Ginny smiled at Harry with significant eyes, telling him not to be a stranger. Remus clapped him on the back, his eyes looking suspiciously misty. Tonks bid him goodbye with her usual clumsy enthusiasm. Ron and Hermione both lingered behind, however, sensing an opportunity to talk seriously at last.
It was the first time the three of them had been in one place together since Harry returned, and they were all painfully aware of it. Dotty had fallen asleep an hour and a half ago on the couch, so by unspoken agreement they wandered into the kitchen, taking seats at the smaller, circular table.
Ron spoke first. "Tonight was good, Harry."
"It was, wasn't it?" Harry asked. "It's so quiet in here now everyone's gone."
Hermione said nothing; her arms were folded across her chest and she was staring off into space. This was the first time Harry had seen her since the afternoon when he'd asked her and Dotty to move in, and they hadn't had much of a chance to chat until now.
Harry thought she looked lovely this evening, though tired. Her dress was the same blue her coat had been, knee length with a rather complicated collar Harry couldn't put a word to. It looked nice, though.
"So I suppose this is as good a time as any to finally talk," Harry ventured.
At this, Hermione came to attention. She nodded; so did Ron.
"When we were at the café," he said to Hermione, "I got to ask you questions. Same with you, Ron, when we went out those evenings. Now I guess you get to ask me some questions." He sat down between them, putting his palms face up in a gesture of welcome. "So go ahead, I can take it. I'll answer every question I can."
"Where?" Hermione demanded immediately. "Where were you all this time?"
Harry sighed. Their very first question, and he couldn't answer it fully.
"I'm not allowed to give specifics," he said slowly, "but I can tell you a few things. First, it's the world's only unplottable island."
Ron gave a start. Hermione's eyes widened. "I had no idea such a place existed," she said.
"Almost no one does," he answered. "That's why it's so hard for me to talk about it.
"After Dumbledore died and Scrimgeour finally turned out to be halfway decent," Harry went on, "he told me that if things got too bad and there was anything I needed, anything at all, to consult the enchanted parchment he then handed me. I was so distracted at the time I barely gave it a thought.
"As it happens, each new Ministry of Magic becomes a secret keeper for the location of the island. It's an ancient, powerful spell-"
"It must be," Hermione interrupted, the old academic light shining in her eyes, "to be able to encompass an entire island. It must be well nigh unbreakable."
Harry smiled at her. "I should think so. Anyhow, one night I finally consulted the parchment. It contained the incantation necessary to apparate to the island. I'm guessing he meant it as a safe haven in case there was no longer anything standing between me and death. But after Voldemort went down and the dust cleared, I began to think of it as the only place I had left. I knew it was a world away, intensely private, and that was enough.
"When I apparated to the island I was immediately surrounded by a pack of fierce-looking wizards whose first instinct was obviously to kill me. My deeply confused expression - and my scar - probably saved my life at that point. They dragged me to headquarters, where I explained to the people that live there who I was and how I'd gotten there."
"They didn't know who you were?" Ron asked, nonplussed.
"I was just as surprised," Harry said. "But I won't lie, it felt good. Anyway, of course they'd heard of Voldemort and the bit about the prophecy, they'd just never seen my face. So they let me stay for a few days in some spare quarters, which I don't mind telling you were rather lacking in basic comforts.
"After a few days I came before them again. They told me they'd discussed my heroic deeds and they had a proposition for me. Then they finally explained who they were."
Harry paused, tipping his head thoughtfully. "This part, well…I can't promise you won't forget about it immediately afterward. Because of the whole Secret Keeper business. That's what I mean when I say I have to be vague. It's not that I'll be punished, it's that it won't do you any good, you won't remember any of it. But I'll tell you anyway and I guess we'll see."
They both nodded quickly. Harry could tell they were intensely curious.
"Turns out they're a very ancient, powerful society of witches and wizards, nameless to anyone who happens to know about them but not be a part of the group. Yeah, they're that protected. Oh, and they have absolute control over the flow of magic on this planet."
Hermione gasped aloud. Ron's jaw dropped. They all waited in silence for one long moment.
"I'm not forgetting," Hermione said slowly.
"Me either," said Ron. "I think this might be okay."
"All right, good. There's probably some caveat in the secret-keeping thing about hostile intent, I dunno.
"Anyhow, when I say they control the flow of magic…well, that's oversimplifying it. There's ancient rites surrounding the whole thing, but it's a very raw connection to the primal magical force. I can't tell you much more, or it would become an issue of punishment.
"So, this ancient society needs certain representatives in every nation. Ambassadors, I guess you could call them. Their purpose is to keep the society abreast of political tensions and things like that, but also to directly power-check each Minister of Magic. Mad-Eye Moody was an ambassador, may he rest in peace - which perhaps partially accounts for his deep paranoia - and I'm guessing he's the main reason Fudge was ultimately sacked. They weren't very friendly, Moody and Fudge. The society seemed to be under the impression that Fudge tried some serious sucking up early on in Moody's tenure - Quidditch box seats and the like - and Moody wouldn't have any of it.
"There's a strict balance required when it comes to magic, you see. It's not so much about good or evil, light or darkness, but intent. That's why a good, strong leader is so necessary during hard times. Motives have to be pure, or else your magical energy is tainted and it contributes to a worldwide imbalance. Fudge was okay during the intermittent periods, and Scrimgeour got the job done with the Death Eaters, but you can see how neither is an example of sterling morality."
Hermione snorted. "Understatement of the century."
"So, as it happened, they'd been looking for a new ambassador for Britain. And my name had come up in some vague talks, though they had little idea of who I really was. Usually they don't go for someone so young. But it turned out they were interested."
"Wow," Hermione said. "So that's a big deal, right?"
"It is, a bit," Harry admitted. "Usually they want to put you through some rigorous test, see you perform a few gusty and courageous acts, but they gave me a pass on that one. Given that I'd just put Voldemort in his place and all.
"So I was signed up. It's highly ceremonial, and three times a year there's a big ceremony with lots of robes and spells and chinese gongs. Same with the initiation rites. But I also feel very strongly about the position and its importance in the Wizarding World. The society could see this. When I explained my relationship to Dumbledore - also a former ambassador - they were pretty much salivating. Another big draw for me was the stipend."
"Which is?" Ron asked, goggling.
"Ample." Harry gestured around him. "It's why I felt comfortable signing for this flat. I would have been uneasy otherwise, even with my inheritence."
Hermione sighed. "So you're all rich and stuff."
Harry shrugged. "Guess you could say that. Those guys don't have too good a sense of the Galleon exchange. They deal strictly in ancient gold coins that are extremely valuable, so the pay probably ends up being more than they think it is."
Ron chuckled. "Works out well for you, though."
Hermione leaned forward a bit, folding her arms on the table. "So these initiation rights or whatever, they took three full years?" she asked him directly.
Harry shook his head slowly. "No. But the thing is, they didn't need me to start right away. They had someone in the interim and she was doing fine. But the maximum term allowed for that kind of thing is, well, three years."
"And of course you made sure she used up the maximum term."
Harry winced a little at Hermione's tone. "Well, yes. She wanted to, and I didn't mind. Especially because the longer I was away the harder it got to came back, as I've told you."
Ron nodded. "And that also explains why you didn't get our owls. Since the island was unplottable, the owl couldn't find it unless the sender knew of its existence."
"Right."
"We thought…well, we didn't know what to think," Hermione said.
"We thought you just weren't responding." Ron smirked half-heartedly. "Either that or you'd taken up with some veela. But time went on too long. We really started to lose hope, Harry."
Harry hesitated. "Well…I won't lie. The island was also a big draw for me for that resaon. If I'd gotten your owls I wouldn't have been able to stay away. Certainly not as long as I did, but probably not more than a week. And I had to be alone. I had to leave it all behind."
Ron's throat worked. "You needed to be away from us that badly?"
"It wasn't us, Ron," Hermione said, surprising them both. "It was about Harry, he'd been through hell."
Harry looked moved at her protest on his behalf. But she held up a hand.
"Just because I understand," she said. "Doesn't mean I forgive. That will take time."
Ron nodded slowly, staring at the tabletop, and again Harry realized the magnitute of what he had done. The extreme selfishness.
He dropped his head into his hands, feeling more terrible than words could express. They all sat there for a while, silently sharing their pain as only best friends could.
"I should get home," Ron said after a while, standing stiffly. "Tomorrow's Monday, after all. Another day at the Prophet."
"And you, Hermione?"
She shook her head. "I don't have to be in early. The good thing about Mungo's is that the hours are dependable, far more so than in Muggle hospitals. So I work every hour that Dotty's in daycare, and for emergencies I ask Ron or Ginny to sit. The pay isn't bad," she said, "but I'd do better if I could get more hours in."
Ron hurried out the door, giving his friends quick, distracted hugs. Harry knew Ron needed to think about all he'd learned. Hermione, however, paused in the doorway, a sleeping Dotty gathered in her arms.
"Yes," she said to him in a low voice.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, we'll move in with you." She looked determinedly at the floor. "I think it's best for everyone. Dotty will get used to your presence - and we can get to know each other again."
Hermione did look up then, to gauge his reaction. Harry was deeply and dizzyingly happy and didn't mind if it showed on his face.
"Thank you," he said roughly.
Still cradling Dotty in her arms, Hermione smiled at him. Her guard seemed to have lowered a bit, and there was an expression in her eyes that threatened to take his breath away.
"I'll tell my landlord, all he needs is a week's notice." She smiled at him. "Goodnight, Harry."
*
End of Chapter Four. Sorry it was so bleeding long, everyone. But I hope it was satisfying for those who had questions about Hermione's side of things.
Chapter five will bring family bonding, and a bit of a catastrophe. As I've said, it may or may not be the final chapter. Only time - and my muse - will tell. :)
Reviews are not only loved, they're cherished.
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