A Day in the Life (of a Relationship)

Title: A Day in the Life (of a Relationship)

Spoilers: Books 1-7 (Disregarding the Epilogue of DH)

Summary: Set almost two years since Harry defeated Voldemort. The trio had moved on with their lives, with all the good and bad parts. Each chapter is a day in their respective relationships, giving us a slice of how they are coping with grief, happiness, and life.

Author’s Note: I know, and rest assured, I am working on In-Between Summer but I can’t get this ficlet out of my head. I needed to release some angst, so here it is. Thanks to The_Scribbler for the excellent beta work. This will be a short one, guys.

Author’s Note:

Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copywrite Act of 1998, this work is copywrited 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion without the express written and notarized permission of the author.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted.

CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. These stories are just that, stories, and may or may not reflect the opinions of the author.

*****************

Chapter 1 – Apologize

“I’m holding on your rope,

Got me ten feet off the ground.

I’m hearin’ what you say but I just can’t make a sound.

You tell me that you need me

Then you go and cut me down but wait…

You tell me that you’re sorry

Didn’t think I’d turn around and say…

It’s too late to apologize, it’s too late.

I said it’s too late to apologize, it’s too late.

I’d take another chance, take a fall

Take a shot for you

And I need you like a heart needs a beat

But it’s nothing new

I loved you with a fire red –

Now it’s turning blue, and you say…

“Sorry” like the angel Heaven let me think was you

But I’m afraid…

It’s too late to apologize, it’s too late.

I said it’s too late to apologize, it’s too late.”

- Apologize, OneRepublic feat. Timbaland

24^th May 2005

Hermione opened her eyes to the empty space beside her bed.

She blinked and reached out, confirming the absence of the person who was supposed to sleep beside her. She sighed and sat up in bed, tried to rub the sleep from her eyes and shake the cobwebs out of her brain.

As like most mornings, she got up and made the bed neatly. Still half-awake, she made her way to the kitchen only to stop halfway there.

Sprawled on the couch was her boyfriend of almost two years, snoring as if there was no tomorrow. Her temper rose. Her spine stiffened even more as she picked up the scent of stale cigarettes and alcohol as she passed his prone figure on the couch, walking directly to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Like clockwork, as she was scooping the bacon from the pan, Ron came in the kitchen all bleary eyed and obviously a bit hung over. He made his way to her and wrapped her in his arms from behind. She shrugged him off irritably.

“Sweetie, c’mon. Give me a morning hug.” He smiled winningly at her.

“Take your seat and have breakfast. I don’t want to be late.”

Ron sighed. After getting a cup of coffee, he made his way over to where she had placed his plate.

“I’m sorry, alright? Ollie insisted we were only going to be gone for a pint or two, I swear it.”

Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes at the flimsy excuse as she ate. “You could’ve owled to let me know.” She said quietly.

“I know, sweetie, I’m really, really sorry. Did you wait up for me long?”

Hermione looked at him with tired eyes. “I fell asleep around 11. Harry dropped by before he went to meet you at the pub.”

He flushed, with guilt or irritation that it was Harry who had told her, she didn’t know. And after the restless night she had, she didn’t have the energy to find out.

She stood up. Placing the dishes in the sink, she silently made her way back to the main bath to take a shower and prepare for work.

Turning on the shower, she let the hot water wash the sluggishness she was feeling. She was pissed at Ron for not remembering to be with her last night. But she felt so numb, so hollow. She shut her eyes tightly, vainly hoping to feel her anger, disappointment. Anything. She fell to her knees in the shower, her face in her hands. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She made her way towards the door solemnly, dressed in her smart navy blue robes with the Chinese collar. On her way out, she spied Ron from the corner of her eye. He was still slumped over his plate, grudgingly pushing the remnants of his breakfast. A stab of affection pinched her heart as she looked at his dejected form.

Ron sensed her behind him and looked up at her with apologetic eyes and her cold demeanor melted a little. She went over to him and placed a kiss on his forehead then drew back to look him.

“Please don’t forget about tonight.” She said almost inaudibly.

She saw his eyes widen as he remembered the date. He opened his mouth, ready to spew another apology. She shook her head sadly at him.

Ron clamped his mouth shut. “I won’t.”

She gave him a small smile and then walked over to the apparition point.

“Don’t be late. It’s at 7.”

****************

Hermione was having a bad day. As soon as she appeared in her office, her panicked assistant cornered her and almost tearfully said that the brief for the McNair case they needed at 10am was missing. A thorough search of her office yielded the papers which were mistakenly placed in the bin for the June hearings.

It was already 11:30, and she was furiously finishing scribbling her notes for the Avery hearing scheduled in a couple of weeks. Scattered all over her desks were law books opened at various chapters and subjects. She looked at the wall clock again. 11:45. She needed to get ready for her meeting with her boss and the head of their French office.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, she grabbed her case from her table and went to Michael Turpin’s office. Michael finished ten years ahead of her at Hogwarts and was the eldest brother of Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl from their year. He was Head Boy in his seventh year and proceeded to make a stellar career for himself as the wizard equivalent of a Chief Prosecutor for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement where Hermione was a junior practitioner.

“Hermione” Michael greeted her warmly as she knocked on his open door. “Just in time. We need to disapparate to Muggle London. Pierre is being an arse and insisted we meet him for lunch at the only reputable French restaurant in London. If you ask me, he just wanted to dine swimmingly on the Ministry’s expense account.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s a bit of both.” She smiled at him. “Maybe he just wants to give you a hard time, you were good mates when he worked here right?”

“Unfortunately, yes. And he thinks that gives him the right to take advantage of me since I was promoted a couple of months before him. Two months, come on!” Michael sighed theatrically as he reached for his business robes and adjusted them over his muggle suit on his stocky 6’4” frame. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

They made their way out the office, discussing the McNair case. As they reached the lobby, Hermione heard someone shouting her name. She stopped and turned to see Ron running to catch up with her, holding a bouquet of red roses.

“Hermione! Where were you? I dropped by your office to ask you out to lunch. I feel really bad about last night, I wanted to make it up to you. Your assistant said you were on your way out. Good thing I caught up with you.” Ron held the bouquet towards her. “I really am sorry, Herm.”

Hermione’s mouth opened slightly. She was touched but she didn’t know what to say. She took the bouquet from him and tried not to inhale the cloyingly sweet aroma. She looked at Michael apologetically. “Can you give us a minute?” He nodded.

She tugged Ron softly away from Michael and lowered her voice. “I know. But Ron, I told you, I have a really important lunch meeting today. I can’t come with you. I’m sorry.”

His expression clouded a bit. “Can’t you get out? I had to duck Kingsley just to be able to take you out.”

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t, Ron. I told you about this meeting ages ago. You’ve complained about me obsessing about this meeting twice already. Didn’t you remember?”

Ron’s eyes lit with comprehension. “The French guy! I’m sorry, Hermione, I forgot. Really. I’ll see you tonight.” He made to turn back.

“Ron,” she called him back. He faced her questioningly. She gave him back the bouquet. “I’m sorry, but can you please take this for the meantime? Thank you, it was really sweet. But I can’t really carry it to the restaurant, I’m sorry, Ron.”

He gave her a forced smile as he took back the roses. “Sure, sweetie, no problem.”

Hermione gave a large sigh as she watched him walk away. She turned to Michael and motioned to go.

******************

It was already dusk when she got back to their flat. She felt drained. It had been one of those days at the office when everything that could go wrong went wrong.

“Ron?” She called out, flicking her wand to turn on the lights. “Ron? Are you home?”

Silence greeted her. She made her way to their bedroom and tiredly took off her business robes. She took off the pins from her hair and lightly massaged her head. She looked at the clock. It was already half past six. She needed to be there at 7.

After a quick shower, she chose a simple black sheath dress which fell flowing just above her knees. She put on a dainty sterling silver wristwatch along with a pair of small diamond studs. She applied a bit of make-up and a spritz of perfume. She looked at the clock. 6:55. No Ron. Her jaw clenched.

She strode over to the apparition point and left.

*********

Quiet surrounded her. She took the hand of the man beside her and squeezed. Somber brown eyes met hers.

“I miss her every single day.”

Her father’s arms went around her. She pulled back her tears as her father’s ran down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Dad.”

“It wasn’t your fault, moppet. You did everything you could.” He said to her with a smile, hugging her to him even tighter. “You’re still here with me. And your mom’s waiting for me. I know she is.”

Hermione felt a lump in her throat and just nodded at her father’s sad smile. Her eyes read that white stone in front of them for probably the millionth time.

Elizabeth Granger

May 24, 1956 – October 31, 2004

Beloved Wife. Loving Mother.

You will be loved till the end of our days.

***********************

It was the first peaceful moment in her day.

Nicholas Granger changed his mind at the last minute and they cancelled their reservations at the French restaurant where they usually celebrated family occasions. Hermione humored her father’s request that they take a walk around London, talking about nothing in particular. He felt lonely nowadays, she could tell and she was glad that she can still have these moments with him. She knew it cheered him up considerably.

They finally chose a hole in the wall Irish pub. It seemed her father was finally starting to accept the changes in his life. It had been a dreadful year and she had tried to support him as best she could.

After a quiet dinner, she took her father home and found herself where they had started the night.

Hermione softly traced the letters on her mother’s tombstone as she knelt on the soft grass. Immense guilt clouded her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mummy.” She said softly.

“It’s not your fault. It was theirs. You had no idea they would still go after your parents. If it was anyone’s responsibility, it should be mine. I should have known.”

Hermione looked up, not surprised to see Harry standing a little off to her side. She sighed.

She looked down at the white marble marker again. “It was neither of our faults, I know that, Harry. Logically, I do.” She felt him sit down beside her.

“Logically, we know a lot of things.”

She chose not to reply; instead, she let her eyes wander around the deserted cemetery. She desperately wanted to cry.

Harry reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. She turned her head back at him and saw haunted eyes identical to her own staring back at her.

“I brought you this.” His right hand held a single white orchid.

A tear slid down her left cheek, unheeded and unexpected, as she reached for his gift. She gave the petals a soft kiss and gently laid it down her mother’s grave.

“Thank you, Harry.”

*************************

Hermione tiredly disapparated back to her flat. Ron immediately stood up, he was dressed smartly in a black Muggle suit.

“What happened? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the cemetery. Kingsley cornered me and made me pay for skiving off at lunch. I barely made it to the restaurant but you didn’t show up. Are you alright?”

Her blank eyes met his tired, irritated blue ones. “I’m fine. Dad needed a change, we ended up in an Irish pub. I didn’t know how to reach you.”

“You still could have tried to owl me.” He said, hurt.

“Well, I’m sorry, Ron. How was I supposed to know you remembered?” She snapped. His jaw clenched. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”

Ron went to her and placed his hands comfortingly on her arms. “I really am sorry, Hermione. How are you?”

Hermione avoided his eyes, “I’m fine.”

He sighed. “Yeah, you always are.” He dropped his arms and turned away from her. “Is it too difficult to at least try to need me, Hermione?”

She kept her eyes on the floor. She felt inconspicuously empty. “I did.”

He turned back to her again. His eyes narrowed at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Hermione brushed past him and flopped down on the couched tiredly. She rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know, Ron. Why don’t you tell me?”

His eyes blazed. “I’m trying here, you know.”

She dropped her hands from her eyes. “I know.”

He knelt down in front of her and cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me. I am here, sweetie. I keep trying and trying. I don’t know what else to do. I know I usually bollix things up, but you don’t even get mad at me anymore. It’s like I don’t exist.”

She tried to feel anything, she swore. She really did. She looked for the anger, the disappointment. “I don’t know the answers, Ron.”

Hermione stood up and made her way to the bedroom. At the door, she stopped. She looked at him, still kneeling there dejectedly looking at the spot where she was sitting moments before.

“I really am sorry, Ron. I try, I really do.” He looked up at her with hurt eyes. “It just seems like we have to do a lot to make this work.”

Ron stood up shakily and went to her, his face ashen. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “I’m saying, it’s been almost two years and we’re still struggling with every step. We can’t bicker over everything our whole lives. I know you try, and I do try to understand. It just seems like every time I need you, you’re not there.” She held up her hand as his mouth opened to refute what she said. “I know. It’s usually not your fault. But sometimes, I feel like we just can’t make it work. It seemed so great at first, finding out about everything, making up afterwards. But you just don’t think things through sometimes. Like last night. Or tonight.”

He looked properly chastened. “If you had just remembered, Ron. Kingsley wouldn’t have been on your case for skiving off for a lunch date I already told you I wasn’t available for.” She took his hand and squeezed, looking at him directly.

“I know it’s not your fault. That it’s actually one of your sweet qualities, how you try to make it up to me. This is who you are, and I loved you for it.”

Ron went even more ashen. “Loved? Hermione, what…”

Hermione’s eyes teared up. “I really am sorry, Ron. But I’m tired. I don’t have the energy to sustain this dynamic anymore. With Mum, and the thing with my dad. All I feel is bone deep exhaustion. Logically, I know it’s neither of our faults. Logically, I know I shouldn’t always feel so disappointed. Logically, I know I shouldn’t pressure you so by expecting too much. Logically, I know I should be more understanding. Logically, I know you have a good heart and you try so much to take care of me. Logically, I know I need you that way too.”

She averted her eyes. “Logically, I know a lot of things.”

“Hermione, we can still make it work. We’ve been through this before. I know what you’re going through. This is nothing, it will pass.” Ron’s voice held a touch of panic.

Her eyes blazed with the first touch of anger. “Nothing?! Nothing?!” She spat at him. “Was it nothing when I held you as you cried for Fred? Was it nothing when you couldn’t even look at George for three bloody months! Was it nothing when you had nightmares every single night?”

“Hermione, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Hermione pushed him roughly back. “Sorry? I’m so tired of hearing you say sorry! All we do anymore, Ron, is apologize to each other each and every bloody day. I don’t want this anymore.”

Ron turned a nasty shade of red. “You?! What about me? I’m scared shitless of doing the wrong thing around you. It’s like I’m walking on sodding eggshells here all the fucking time! I don’t know what to do for you, Hermione. I tried everything I know. But you…you just cut me off! I do everything I can think of to try and help you with this, but you won’t let me! And what do I get for all my efforts? A bloody, fucking apology!”

“I saw them fucking kill my mother, Ron, and I wasn’t able to do anything to save her! Excuse me if I don’t feel like talking about it every minute like you did. We’re different people, you and I. I can’t act exactly the way you want me to all the time! Sometimes, I think you had this image of me in your mind and how we’re supposed to be that I feel so suffocated because I bloody have to change myself every single minute to keep you happy!”

Their harsh breathing cut in the still night air. Ron was glaring at her murderously. He suddenly turned around and kicked the nearest furniture – which happened to be the couch. The fabric tore from the impact of his foot. He let out a scream of frustration, “Aarrgh!” He grabbed the lamp from the side table and threw it the opposite wall, shattering it into irreparable pieces. He breathed heavily but kept his back to her.

Hermione tried to calm herself. She looked at her furious boyfriend. “Ron, look at me, please.”

He faced her with such a blank expression, her numb heart cracked a little.

“Tell me you’re happy with me, be honest. Tell me that I am everything you thought this relationship would be. Tell me that you don’t feel like we’re forcing this too much.”

Ron lost the vivid shade of his temper. He opened his mouth, his eyes darting everywhere except her face as he sought to deny what she said. “I…” He looked at her.

Hermione didn’t know what Ron saw in her eyes. But he said nothing. He looked desperately at her, silently begging her to take back what she said.

She couldn’t lie to him.

“I… I need some space. Maybe we need some space. I’m just so tired.”

His jaw clenched. “Fine.” And he quickly turned his back on her and strode over to the apparition point.

As soon as he disappeared, Hermione fell against the bedroom door and let her weight bring her down the floor. She covered her eyes with her hands.

The tears still did not come.

Disclaimer: Please see chapter 1

Author’s Note: Thanks for all the kind words, guys. It makes it all sweeter to write this. My special gratitude to Ravenclaw(d69) for the recommendation. I’m extremely flattered after only a chapter out. I hope you all like this one also. Special thanks again to my beta The_Scribbler for the excellent beta work as always.

A/N: Sorry about the current format. I tried everything I knew to fix the annoying thing but I can’t get it to accept my original format. I swear the lyrics are a lot smaller than the fic, and justified well. As soon as I get work from the mods on how to fix it, I’ll upload the chappies again. For now, please bear with me.

Chapter 3 – How to Save a Life

“Step one you say we need to talk

He walks you say sit down it's just a talk

He smiles politely back at you

You stare politely right on through

Some sort of window to your right

As he goes left and you stay right

Between the lines of fear and blame

And you begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best

Cause after all you do know best

Try to slip past his defense

Without granting innocence

Lay down a list of what is wrong

The things you've told him all along

And pray to God he hears you

And pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I known how to save a life”

- How to Save a Life, The Fray

31^st July 2005

Ginny woke up smiling to sunshine that was streaming in her window. She stretched leisurely on her bed. She turned her head to look at the framed picture of her boyfriend Harry Potter prominently displayed on her bedside table.

“Good morning, Harry.” She greeted his grinning photographic counterpart. She giggled when the Harry in the picture blew a kiss at her. Ginny felt a little silly as she blew one back. She was definitely having a good day.

Happily, she got out of bed to prepare. Today was Harry’s nineteenth birthday and her mind was almost bursting with excitement as she thought of how she had planned his special day.

After a quick shower, she thundered downstairs to have breakfast with her family. Her smile grew wider as she spied Percy being fussed over by her mother, her Dad looking on amusedly as he turned the pages of the Prophet. Her face darkened a little as she glanced at the chair Fred usually occupied. His death had definitely changed her family and it took them a long time before they could even share a laugh. But as her father had said at the time, they were Weasleys. They were stronger together than apart and they had slowly rebuilt the one, big happy family they had, helped along immensely by the arrival of the first Weasley grandchild.

Bill and Fleur gave recently given birth to Victoire, the first female Weasley ever to have blonde hair instead of the trademark red. Her addition to the family provided to be the much needed healing salve to the wounds created by war. Ginny was smitten with her niece and hoped that soon, she’ll have a little bundle of joy of her own with Harry.

“Good morning, everyone.” All red heads looked up at her cheerful greeting.

“Ginny, you’re bright and happy this morning,” Her father said remarked.

“Well, it’s a beautiful Sunday, isn’t it?” She replied as she took a plate and started eating breakfast. “Mum, is everything ready for Harry’s party tonight? I want everything to be absolutely perfect for him.”

Her mother smiled at her indulgently. “Of course, dear. Bill and Fleur will be by later with little Victoire to help with the decorations. Charlie apparated early this morning, he’s still sleeping. Ron owled all your friends, almost everybody said they were coming. Even Minerva said yes.”

“George and I’ll be in charge of the entertainment. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just keep Harry away till 7.” Percy said.

Ginny shook her head affectionately at her brother; she still can’t believe how much he’s changed. “Thanks, Percy. I know Harry suspects something but I’ve been trying so hard to keep the party as a surprise. I’m sorry I can’t help more but he’ll know it for sure if I said I can’t spend the whole day with him today.”

She finished her plate and prepared to leave. She gave both her parents a kiss and disapparated out.

*************************

Ginny apparated in an unobtrusive spot behind one of the buildings on Harrowby Street, prepared to walk the few feet to Harry’s flat. She loved this area of London; in fact, she was the one who had found the absolutely adorable Westminster flat for Harry. She had wanted to move in with him then. Unfortunately, her mother would have none of it, claiming it was bad form to live with your boyfriend before one was married.

Ron was aghast at first at how pricey the area was. But Harry had fallen in love with the spacious three-bedroom flat with the balcony overlooking the Marble Arch. It was near the tube station in case he needed to travel as a Muggle for his Auror missions, in walking distance from the park, and even boasted a concierge and that delightfully muggle invention called video entry phone so Harry could screen who visits him. In other words, it was perfect. And Harry only deserved perfection.

She entered Harry’s building and waved to Brian, the concierge for the day. Brian waved back a greeting as she boarded the lift. She had made a point to know the staff since, she reasoned, she dropped by fairly often to visit her boyfriend.

Humming softly to herself, she pressed the buzzer outside Harry’s flat. She could hear his footsteps on the other side and she waved at where she knew the little video camera was.

The door opened and her breath, as usual, caught at her first glimpse of Harry Potter for the day. She swore, she fell more and more in love with him as each day passed. She gave him her sweetest smile and raised herself on tiptoes to give him a right good snog.

“Happy Birthday, hun.” She greeted him a little breathily.

Harry loosely held her in his arms as he gave her a gentle smile. “Gin, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” He murmured.

She followed him inside. Her brow furrowed, however, as she took note of what he was wearing. Harry was dressed head to toe in black; from the muggle shirt bearing the Ministry seal on his left breast that hugged his slim torso to the muggle jeans that encased his long legs ending in serviceable looking combat boots. Ginny’s jaw clenched as she realized that he was dressed up to go out on a mission.

One of the various changes Harry and Ron had initiated since entering the Auror academy was the now prerequisite all black muggle clothing they all wore to missions. It was more practical than the Auror robes that were now used primarily for official functions only. The approval of such muggle uniform was only one of the numerous changes Harry, Hermione, and Ron had instigated since joining the ministry a year and half ago after being given permission to take their N.E.W.T.S despite never having completed their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. The three had – and still are – considerably shaking the Ministry’s very foundations with their supposed radical ideas and reforms. All three seem to be adamant that their sacrifices – and everybody else’s – during the war will not be forgotten in vain.

Ginny was, of course, very proud of what her boyfriend, brother, and friend had chosen to undertake. Sometimes, however, she can’t help but resent the fact that she feels a bit left out of their tightly woven lives. It was like she was in first year again, and was watching the trio have their now legendary adventures year after year.

She shook her head. Now was not the time to bring out her long-forgotten insecurities. Now was the time to confront her boyfriend why he was dressed to go out on a mission on his birthday.

Ginny followed Harry towards the bedroom and her eyes narrowed at the backpack on the bed, various items of clothing scattered for packing. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Harry.” She said sternly.

Harry turned from packing his toiletries in a small bag to give her a guilty smile. “I’m sorry, Gin.”

“It’s your birthday, can’t they send someone else?” Ginny couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice.

He averted his eyes. “It’s important.”

Ginny exhaled a breath. She went to Harry and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I know it is. You wouldn’t be going if it wasn’t. But it’s just that…”

Harry hugged her back. “I know, Gin. But I can’t give this to someone else. I don’t think it’s going to be long though. The backpack is just in case of an emergency.”

Ginny leaned back to look at Harry. She took note of the tired lines around his mouth. His eyes had dark smudges underneath, revealing that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep recently.

“I was hoping we could spend the day together in muggle London. I had it all planned out, I was going to take you out shopping. There’s a really special party tonight at the Burrow, and everybody even helped prepare it.” She said sadly.

Harry sighed and placed his forehead against hers. “That sounds heavenly, Ginny.” He gave her a soft kiss then led her to sit beside him on the bed.

“We had a breakthrough last night. Remember the locator charm Hermione and I were working on? Well, last night we managed to make it work. We found two Death Eaters hiding out somewhere in Brighton. The Ministry sent scouts early this morning and they sent in a report saying they think it might be Travers or Rowle but we’re still not sure.”

Ginny turned away from him. “They’re not even notorious Death Eaters, Harry.”

“I know, Ginny. But we have reason to believe they might know something about the bombings last week or even the 7/07 bombing. I have to do this, Gin.” He said emphatically.

Ginny looked at him. He was so very noble all the time, why can’t he let some of the others pick up some of the responsibility? She thought bitterly. “Harry…”

“I know, I know. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But I can’t let them get away. That bombing took out a lot of lives, innocent ones. I can’t even imagine how the Death Eaters managed to get a hold of those muggle terrorists but the fact is, they had. I… I can’t help but feel responsible for…”His voice cracked as he raised haunted eyes at her.

Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t know what to say, frankly. “I…” She caressed his cheek with her hand. “I’m sorry, Harry. I understand. You go and get them.”

She gave him a forced smile. “Be quick about it. We’ll be waiting for you tonight at the Burrow. I’ll let them know you’ll be late.”

Ginny then took hold of his nape and pulled his face closer. She kissed him with all the worry and love she could muster.

They parted heavily. Harry looked at his watch, the same watch that Mrs. Weasley had given him for his seventeenth birthday. “I have to go, Ginny.”

He took the backpack and shrugged it on his shoulders. Harry looked at her solemnly, “Why don’t you go ahead and do that shopping trip you said? I don’t want to be the one to ruin your plans.”

“Oh Harry, we were going to go for you.”

“C’mon, Gin. I’d like whatever you’ll buy for me. I’ll need to be extra handsome tonight anyway, it might make Molly and Fleur more merciful towards me in case I’m late.” He gave her a half-smile that somehow came out looking like a grimace.

“You’re a prat, Harry Potter. Just be sure to get your arse safely back tonight or I swear I’ll follow you to Brighton to hex you.”

Harry gave her a last smile. “Don’t forget to lock the place when you go out.” Then he was gone.

Ginny sighed and sat down again in the bed. Her eyes caught the framed pictures by Harry’s bed side table. One was of him and her, sitting by the lake. Right beside it, a larger frame showing Harry, Hermione, and Ron on their graduation day was prominently displayed. Ginny remembered that day. It was a graduation unlike any Hogwarts had. For one, none of the seventh years actually completed the year what with the damage done to the castle after the Final Battle. But amidst the construction, Hermione had spearheaded massive study sessions for anyone who wanted to review for their N. E. W.T. S.

Surprisingly, it was Harry and Neville who had been her most ardent supporters. In time, almost every seventh, sixth, and fifth year were holding impromptu classes in whatever classroom they could use in between helping around to fix the castle. Those impromptu classes had been a beacon of hope then. A symbol that they could actually go on despite the pain war had demanded of them. They were the reason the lot of them actually passed the O.W.L’s and N.E.W.T.S that year. Graduation was attended by almost all students regardless of year; it became more of an affirmation of strength than academic completion. It was the most memorable graduation Ginny could ever remember attending, far surpassing her own the next year.

As she stared at the picture of the three infamous friends, a tear slipped down her cheek. Ginny absently wiped it, then stared at the moisture gathered by her fingers. She was happy, was she not? Angrily, she got up, locked the doors, and promptly disapparated.

******************

It was already an hour past noon, and walking round for half a day was taking a toll on Ginny. But she still needed to find the perfect shoes for Harry tonight. Spying a posh looking shoe salon, she entered lugging the various bags that were her morning’s accomplishment.

Browsing though the selection, she came to a pair of brown leather moccasin loafers. She asked the attendant if she could see it. He gave it to her with a flourish and much aplomb. It must be expensive, she thought dryly.

“You have very good taste, Signorina. These are made from Moro calfskin, very high quality Italian loafers.”

“Er..May I see it please?”

“Of course.”

The attendant handed the pair to her and she inspected it carefully. Harry usually went for trainers or comfortable slip-ons but she wanted to get him something different. She read the label “Prada” inside but it didn’t really mean anything to her. These muggles and their labels on their clothes always confused her. It didn’t really matter who made your clothes, as long as they were made just right. Suffice to say, this Prada person really knew how to make shoes. It was a handsome pair and she couldn’t wait to see Harry wearing them tonight.

“I’ll take it.” She said happily. The attendant was ecstatic with the easy sale and told her to stay put and that he’ll happily finish her purchase.

As Ginny was waiting for the shoes, an old couple entered the shop browsing the same selection. They were talking in low whispers to themselves, the man had his arm wrapped around the old woman’s rather rotund waist. There really was nothing extraordinary about the two but Ginny saw how loving they had looked at each other. They looked around the shop, stopping at a pair from time to time. They shared these glances sometimes, and then suddenly they’ll burst out laughing. Ginny looked at them wistfully, thinking and hoping that someday, Harry and she can be like the old but obviously still in love couple.

“Signorina, your shoes.” She was jolted out of her daydream by the attendant, holding out her purchase. She gave him a smile and took the shoes. Giving one last glance at the old couple, Ginny left the shop.

*******************

Flopping down tiredly on her bed, Ginny was just taking off her shoes when Pigwidgeon came zooming in with a letter for her. Recognizing Harry’s scrawl, she took the note and affectionately fed Pig an owl treat from the bowl by her window. Making a mental note to buy Harry his own owl this Christmas, she tore open the letter excitedly.

Gin,

We finished early, I can meet you early, say about 6:30? Apparate directly to the flat, I’ll adjust the wards for tonight.

Sorry about this morning,

Harry.

Ginny smiled. She looked at the clock, it was just a quarter past four. She still had some time to help out downstairs before preparing to meet Harry.

*****************************

Six forty-five found Ginny again in Harry’s living room.

“Harry!”

“In here!” He yelled from the bedroom.

Ginny happily lugged the bags she bought that afternoon to the bedroom. She found Harry getting out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

Ginny’s mouth ran dry as her eyes took in his finely toned torso. Harry smiled at her mischievously. “Hey there, Gin”.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him playfully. She let go of the bags and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him hungrily. He was her hero, her knight-in-shining armor. She really didn’t know what the heck she was thinking earlier this morning. Harry was hers.

She jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist. His Seeker trained reflexes caught her agilely and he gently rubbed himself against her. Ginny moaned, mashing her mouth harder against his. Harry walked unsteadily to the bed. They haphazardly fell on top of each other, Harry’s towel slipping off completely. His hands were suddenly under her skirt, ripping off her knickers. Ginny gripped his member and positioned him as he surged forward.

She moaned at his entrance. Harry gripped her thighs and proceeded to move against her. Their harsh breathing cut the night air. Ginny gripped his hair, burying his face against the crook of her neck as she arched towards her completion. Harry thrust once, twice, thrice more before collapsing against her completely with a satiated grunt.

A short time later, they regained their breathing. Harry looked at her and blushed. Ginny was completely glowing. “Now how will I explain my flushed, knicker-less state to my mother, hmm?” She teased him.

Harry flushed a deeper shade of red. He carefully extricated himself from her and scourgified the proof of their brief frolicking. “I’m sorry, Gin.” He apologized bashfully.

Ginny giggled and put her arms around his still naked waist. “You are so adorable. I really don’t care what they think. We’re already adults and we’re been together a year and a half. What did they think we were doing all these time, playing Gobstones?”

Harry gently shook his head at her candor. “Ginny.” He said fondly.

“C’mon, let’s get you dolled up. I can’t wait to see the ladies salivate over you tonight.” She winked at him.

***************************

The party was a smash. It looked like a mini-Gryffindor reunion with a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs thrown in. McGonagall came, along with Hagrid and the rest of the Hogwarts staff. Some of Harry’s Auror buddies also came, and of course, the Weasleys were in complete attendance.

There were all situated in the brightly lit backyard. Ginny was surreptitiously watching Harry from the corner of her eye while she chatted with Luna Lovegood.

A loud crack was heard and everybody turned to see Hermione Granger arrive with Teddy in her arms, holding Kreacher by the hand. Andromeda Tonks was quietly at her side.

“Harry!” The boy quickly clambered down Hermione’s arms and ran towards his godfather who picked him up and then swung him around happily. Ginny saw Hermione slowly walking towards Harry, quietly talking to Mrs. Tonks. Kreacher had ran ahead trying to catch up with the toddler and upon reaching Harry, hugged his leg. Harry patted his head warmly. She saw Hermione give Harry a big hug which Harry returned. It bothered her that the hug lingered more than she would have preferred and that Harry buried his face in the nape of Hermione’s neck as he held her. Then Harry, to her surprise, also put his arms around Mrs. Tonks and whispered something which made the older witch tear up immediately.

“Oy, let’s get this party started now that Hermione’s here!” Ron shouted near the door, holding a large cake bearing sparkling candles.

Ginny excused herself from Luna and made her way to Harry. “C’mon everyone, gather round!” She shouted.

Harry was turning a bit red with all the attention, Ginny giggled. He was so shy sometimes. Everyone was congregated around him as he still held Teddy in his arms. Ginny reached his side and gave Harry a peck on the cheek and ruffled little Teddy’s hair. She laughed as the toddler ducked his head away.

Everybody joined in a hearty and rather off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” and as Harry blew out all the candles, a rather magnificent display of fireworks lit up the night sky. They could all see Percy and George quite a distance off, lighting each like a kid in a candy store.

All fed and sated, everyone eventually drifted off into little groups in and out of the house, catching up on each other’s lives. Ginny was having a particularly enjoyable conversation with Neville about his travels around the world obsessively hunting for the rarest plants when her Mum came to her looking for Harry. They needed to open the presents. Ginny looked around, not finding Harry. She waved to her mum, indicating she’ll look for him and went outside. Not finding him within the vicinity, she decided to walk further out and came to hear voices near a bench that looked over their little pond. She can barely see two figures sitting; the moon had hidden herself, providing cover for the lovers and thieves of the night.

Nearing the bench, Ginny slowed her walk as she heard the unmistakable signs of someone crying.

It was grief like she hasn’t heard before, a wrenching of a person’s soul.

“….Shh…It’s alright, I’m here…” That was Hermione’s voice.

Ginny moved in a bit closer, the sobs were lessening, indicating that the person was calming down.

“I’m sorry for laying that on you, Hermione.” Harry. That was Harry. Her Harry. Ginny couldn’t believe her ears. Harry was crying. Harry never cried. Never. Not with her.

“It’s ok, Harry. What are friends for, huh?” Ginny could still hear a bit of sniffling. She didn’t want to eavesdrop but she couldn’t move.

“But I know you’re still not okay. I can see your eyes y’know.”

“I’ll deal with it when I can, Harry.” Ginny heard Hermione say softly.

“You always know where I am, ‘Mione.” The tenderness of his voice as he said her name – the name that only he was allowed to use for her – threatened to take her breath away.

“We’re a sad lot, you and I.”

Hermione chuckled softly. “That we are. How many did you capture earlier at Brighton?”

“Three men and a woman. It was Rowles and Travers. We didn’t count on seeing Parkinson and Nott though.”

“Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott? What were they doing with those two?”

“Still hanging out with the wrong crowd, apparently.” Ginny heard Harry sigh deeply. “They didn’t know anything about the bombings, Hermione. Most likely, they’ll be released.”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I know how much you wanted to get those men.”

“They killed muggles – and children. Children! We’ve given so much to that stupid war, and for what?! For those stupid bastards to murder helpless muggles.”

Silence.

“I feel so tired of fighting all of them sometimes. What more can I do, Hermione? I’m just one man.”

Ginny stiffened as saw Hermione touch Harry’s arm. He didn’t resist. He covered her hand with his. “No, you’re not. You’re a man of conviction, of principle. You’re brave enough to stand up for what’s right and you fight for it. You are not just one man, Harry. Don’t ever belittle what one man can do. Most would already give up by now, given what they had already sacrificed. But you, you bring hope.”

“From just one man, Harry, you brought one woman and another man. There are three of us doing this. From the three of us, there are our friends, our family, all those who love us. You are not just one man, don’t ever forget that.”

Ginny desperately wanted to move. She’s never heard Harry sounding so vulnerable. He’s always been so strong for her, protecting her from everything and everyone. This was a Harry who doubted himself. This was a Harry she never knew.

“But how can we go on, Hermione? I look at Teddy and I miss Remus. I miss Tonks. I feel so guilty every time I see Andromeda. She lost her whole family. That’s why I chose not to take care of Teddy, I knew she needed him. All these people, they’ve given everything. I don’t know how to help them.”

Ginny couldn’t take it anymore. She ran. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks as she raced back to the house.

Once in sight of the Burrow, she slowed down and wiped her cheeks. She didn’t know why she was crying. She knew Harry had always gone to Hermione for help. But she couldn’t help the stab of pain that shot through her as she realized he never talked to her that way. Never, ever. It was like Harry shielded a whole different side of himself. A side she wasn’t allowed to see or even to know about. A great sob rose in her throat and she quickly covered her mouth. There were so many things Harry didn’t tell her. They’ve fought about it a million times and yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. God damn it! Why was it always Hermione he turned to? What more do I have to do? What else does he need from me?

Ginny desperately tried to calm herself. Now wasn’t the time to break down. It was Harry’s birthday.

And they still had to open the presents.

Disclaimers : Please see Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks again for all the encouragement, guys. Here’s the third part. I still don’t know how to fix the error on my formats so please bear with me. As for *that* scene last chapter, I swear that all is tied in when this is finished. Still will be short, though. 2 more chapters left and an rather short epilogue (as of now). Special thanks to The_Scribbler for being such a wonderful beta.

************************

Chapter 3 – Goodbye Again

Guess I don't know what's left to say

But hear me out

All of the dreams of, yesterday

Keep breaking me down

What's on the outside, can you say

Or am I getting carried away

It's in your mind

It's in your eyes

So it's goodbye again

It's way past time

For one last try

So it's goodbye again

Goodbye... again

….

You’re falling out,

I'm falling in

So it's goodbye again

It's way past time

For one last try

So it's goodbye... again

So it's goodbye again

- Goodbye Again, Vertical Horizon

6^th Aug 2005

It was a beautiful Saturday morning as Ronald Weasley walked among the repaired buildings in Diagon Alley, softly whistling to himself. It amazed him to think of how the Alley had managed to rebuild itself so quickly after You-Know-Who’s defeat.

He shook his head. Voldemort, his name was Voldemort, he chastised himself. He looked around the Alley again and saw the flower shop that was his original destination.

He entered the shop as the bell chimed to signal a customer’s arrival. He wondered at the array of flowers that adorned the little shop. He mentally grimaced, he can’t imagine how a bloke was supposed to know which one to buy from all these?

“Hi, can I help you, sir?” A petite blonde came from the back of the shop, wearing a customary polite smile. He saw her eyes widen as she recognized who he was.

“Hi,” He grinned. It did feel good to be recognized, even if the attention can be a bit too much at times. Harry, as expected, had suffered the brunt of it at first; but when details of their Horcrux quest suspiciously leaked out, the public happily latched on to their spanking new celebrities – namely Hermione and himself. It was a bit of an adjustment, but he quickly took to the adoration he regularly encountered. He never abused it, God help him from his mother and Hermione if he did. But he did enjoy the advantages it afforded him most of the time.

“Actually, yes, I do need help.” He gestured to the amalgam of flowers behind him. “I need to buy some flowers for my girl. And I really need for it to make a statement.” He smiled charmingly at the young girl.

The blonde blushed and at the same time struggled to maintain a somewhat professional demeanor which he found amusing.

“What is the occasion, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Ron flushed. That was a question he did not need. He tried to think of what to answer. He decided maybe distraction might be better. “Er…Oh, pardon me, I forgot to ask for your name. I’m Ron Weasley.” He extended his hand to her.

“My name’s Abby.” She had turned red as she shook his hand. “I know who you are.”

Ron gave her another warm smile and she turned even redder. Then she seemed to compose herself.

“Um, what is the occasion you needed flowers for again?”

Ron inwardly sighed. It was just his luck that the day he decided to ask for help, he got the sane shop assistant. He shuffled his feet and averted his eyes. “Well, let’s just say, I need the bouquet to help her remember how she loves me.”

Abby’s face broke into a wide, knowing smile. “You had a fight with Ms. Granger then?”

“Well, not exactly a fight. I...um,”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I really don’t envy how your lives are being called news nowadays. Now let’s see…” She disappeared among the throng of multi-colored petals. “I know just the thing for her!” She called from somewhere behind the plants. He could hear her bustling about.

She emerged with her hands full of some white, delicate looking blossoms along with a gaggle of exotic looking leaves. She went behind the counter and started arranging them into, what he could admit, a rather elegant looking bouquet. Instead of clear plastic, she chose a very thin pale blue gauze as the wrap and made the ribbon as small as possible. “Here you go.”

The resulting product was beautiful. Ron took the bouquet and gazed at the exotic and fragile looking white flowers arranged around an embrace of thin gauzy looking leaves. “It’s perfect!” He said happily. “You knew exactly what I needed.”

Abby blushed again. “Oh it’s nothing, really. Harry’s always said that white orchids were Ms. Granger’s favorite flowers. I just amped the arrangement a bit.”

Ron’s smile was wiped from his face. He gulped. “Harry, as in Harry Potter? He buys his flowers from you too?”

“Well, yes. We are the only magical flower shop in metro London. He comes in here from time to time to buy flowers. We usually deliver either to your mum or his girlfriend. But if it’s for Ms. Granger, he always insists that it should be white orchids.”

Ron’s mood dampened. He nodded his assent. “Yeah, yeah it is her favorite.”

He paid for the bouquet and left.

********************************

Ron chose to apparate about 3 miles from their flat. He needed some time to think after what happened at the flower shop.

Since their explosive row three months ago, he had been living in the Burrow and let Hermione have the flat. He had gone back the day after they fought to get a few of his clothes. They didn’t speak for about two weeks after and he only went back to get a few of his things at times he knew she was busy in her office.

But he never did bother to completely empty the flat of his belongings.

Somehow, it had become an unspoken fact that whenever they fought spectacularly, Hermione and him would break up. He’ll move out for a couple of weeks taking everything he owned with him; but they wouldn’t be able to cut each other out of their lives and he would always be back to snuggling in with her within a month or two.

Their last fight was the worst one they’ve had though. There was something so frighteningly different about what they had said to each other that night.

When she had asked him if he was happy, he looked her straight in the eyes prepared to say yes. But he felt like he just saw her for the first time once his eyes met hers. And he didn’t see the attractive nineteen year old young woman in front of him then.

What he saw for a brief second was the bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl he met in his first year at Hogwarts. He saw that same girl as she looked at him in concern as he vomited slugs. The girl who had nagged him to death during exams, refusing to accept the mediocre efforts he gave his studies when she knew he could do better. The face of the girl he hurt every single time he became petty and mean because of his then unvoiced insecurities.

He saw his best friend for that one second. And he saw that his best friend was suffering and he had no idea how to help her. Emotional range of a teaspoon. That’s the way she had once described him. Now it really gnawed at him.

He had blinked that image away at the time. He recognized the signs of another break up and he silently begged her to give him one more chance but she refused to hear his plea. His insecurities had risen along with his temper, and he left.

First he apparated to the front door of Harry’s flat in North London. Seeing that Harry wasn’t home, he did the only thing that came to him. He went for a walk in the park. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, to not rage at the world. He was feeling so lost that he could barely walk, because of the tears he was struggling to fight back. Finally though, the tears won and he sat on an old park bench and cried.

He was terrified of what it all meant and so he never did have the guts to empty the flat of what he owned, getting only what he needed to get by from day to day. He couldn’t leave with everything he had. Not when he wasn’t sure that he would –or could - come back.

They did see each other again after the fight. In fact, they had started to see each other fairly often again, falling back into their cycle of dating after each fight or break-up they go through. He just had lunch with her – owling ahead this time – three days ago. He was trying to win her back, albeit at a pace a lot slower than usual. There had been something missing though. An indefinable quality had permeated their dates.

For each and every time he saw Hermione again after their huge row, he couldn’t shake that image of her he saw that night.

And each time that image permeated his psyche; calm would suffuse his being. And all he could think of was try to help her. He saw her pain clearly now and he knew she was having a very difficult time. He only wanted to help her for some reason, feeling no ulterior motives behind his actions.

He was still mulling over this as he reached the door of their flat. He knocked. “If that’s you, Ron, you know how to get in yourself!” He heard her yell from inside.

Ron grinned. He checked that nobody can see him there in the hallway as he took out his wand. “Alohamora,” he whispered.

He entered the flat only to stop at the sight of the almost empty living room. Empty of everything he had come to associate as hers, that is.

“Hermione?”

She came out of the mini-library wearing a tired smile. “You’re right on time.” Her left eyebrow rose as she saw the bouquet in his left hand.

“For you.” He offered her the flowers.

She took the bouquet with a smile of appreciation. “Have you been taking tips from Harry?” She said teasingly.

“Oy!”

She laughed softly. She raised the blossoms to her face as if to smell them; instead she let the soft petals caress her cheek as a peaceful smile stole over her face.

“My mother always had white orchids in the house when I was growing up. She said they signified love, magnificence, and beauty. She wanted our home to always be abundant of those.” Her mouth quirked up in a playful half-smile. “And many children.”

Ron choked. “Eww, Hermione, parents having sex have never been good images to have in your head.”

Hermione’s eyes snapped open and she slapped his upper arm – hard. “Gross, Ron. I meant they wanted to have lots of kids. It just so happened there were complications. You are such a pervert.” She rolled her eyes and went over to the couch, placing the bouquet gently on the side table.

Ron was rubbing his arm but he was laughing. “But you used to like it so much before.” He pouted at her mockingly.

Hermione looked at him sternly but she couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of her throat. Bingo, exactly what he had been hoping for. He thought he can still count the times she had laughed since her mother died. Then, she pointed a finger at him warningly, “Don’t you dare say anything like that ever again if you want to keep your ability to procreate.”

Ron laughed out loud. “Only you, Hermione, would issue a threat to a man’s bits using polysyllabic words.”

She affronted a shocked look. “You know the meaning of polysyllabic?” She peered at him exaggeratedly. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”

That cut off his laughter. He looked at her. She seemed to sense the change in mood and silently stared back at him.

Ron really looked at her. He took in the soft, curly brown ringlets haphazardly pulled into a ponytail. He saw her sharp cheekbones, her pink lips, and narrow nose. She really was very pretty. He stared at her eyes, those chocolate brown eyes that normally sparkled with life and thirst for learning. He frowned as he saw the dark smudges underneath that indicated she was still having trouble sleeping.

He raised his hand and affectionately stroked her cheek. She just stayed silent as she kept staring at him but her gaze softened. A rush of affection warmed his heart.

That’s it, he realized.

He took in her whole face and felt only affection. “My best friend.” He said softly.

Her eyes teared up. He gave her a soft smile then took one of her hands in his and squeezed. He released her and cleared his throat.

“So, what’s all this then?” His hand motioned to mean the living room.

Hermione sighed as she gently bit her lower lip, clearly contemplating how to tell him something he can bet his new Firebolt he wouldn’t like. “I’m leaving.”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Remember the French guy Michael and I met for lunch? Y’know, that day we…”She broke off.

“I remember.”

“Well, he took a liking to me. He’s been courting me to transfer to the French MLE ever since. He sent me a very impressive promotion package and everything. I need a change, Ron.”

He didn’t say anything. Ron looked around the flat. Every single thing of hers was missing. He assumed it’s all been neatly packed and labeled. He stood up and craned his neck to glance briefly at the open bedroom door. Yep, everything was packed and already sent away.

He sighed and faced her again, still sitting quietly on the couch. “When are you leaving?”

“In a week. And I accepted only three days ago.”

He made his way back to her and knelt down so he can meet her eyes. He took her hands in his, oddly mirroring his position three months before.

“You can’t run away from it, Hermione.”

She looked up at him with panicked eyes. “I don’t know what else to do. I need to get away, just for a while. Dad seems to be doing better, he’s been out with friends.”

“But Herm, you won’t have us there. I don’t like the idea of you going off to who knows where in France alone.”

“It’s only Paris.”

Ron shrugged. “What’s the difference?” He chuckled softly as she rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?”

“Not really. But I know I want to get away from England for a while. Not for long and I’ll always come to visit. I just think I need this. So many things happened, Ron. I just need to step away from everything for a bit. I feel so overwhelmed.”

He nodded and sighed. Then he sat beside her and took her in his arms. “I don’t like the fact that I can’t be there for you.”

“You will be. And Harry also. You’re all there for me.”

He sighed.

Ron drew back and cupped her face in his hands and stared deep in the chocolate depths that he had lost himself in countless of times before.

“You will always be my first.” His voiced cracked from the strength of emotion he was feeling.

A tear escaped her eyes. She brought up her hand to cover one of his. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t be the last, Ron.”

Ron brought his lips down to hers. It was a bittersweet kiss, befitting the farewell they were saying to each other. He shut his eyes at the barrage of emotion bombarding him and he couldn’t help tearing up. He was waking up from the fairy tale of his childhood innocence to find that his princess was just like any other girl.

She can be hurt. And damn, can she hurt him too.

Hermione broke the kiss first. She smiled at him shakily as she wiped the tears from his cheeks. He never noticed them fall.

“This is goodbye, Ron.” She said softly.

He nodded. “I couldn’t stand hurting you anymore.” He said while he caressed her face.

“And I, you.”

“I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Neither did I, Ron.”

“I did love you.”

“Well, I still love you. It’s just…”

“You’re not in love with me.” She gave him a bittersweet smile.

She took his hand and he felt the first stirrings of peace envelope him.

“You know, I think I was too wrapped up in my idea of you, of us, that I didn’t see how awful we were being to each other.” He gave her a nervous look. “Wait…that didn’t come out right.”

She grimaced. “Actually, I think you got it right this time.”

“Imagine that.” He chuckled.

Her brow wrinkled. “You know, I never did ask you what you've thought of our relationship. Or me. I just always assumed I knew what you were going to say." She said softly.

Ron was silent as he tried to compose his thoughts. She was right, she had never asked. And like her, he had always just assumed that she’ll know what he would have said. After everything that had happened though, he wasn’t so sure of that now.

“Well, I always had this version of you in my head. You were this brilliant – though a bit mental – girl that I had absolutely no trouble talking to. I’ve always found you pretty though it took me a bit to be mature about that part as I’m sure you can remember.” She grinned.

“But you were always like my…I dunno…You were like my snitch.”

Hermione’s forehead furrowed at the comparison. Ron saw this and hastily explained. “Well, I’ve never felt that I was special. I had lots of older brothers who went ahead and did this or did that. I was the funny, likeable son, but never the extraordinary one. And you and Harry, you chose me as your best friend. Me, plain old Ronald Weasley. Harry’s, well, Harry. And you. You were smart, and brave, and loyal. You weren’t bad on the eyes either.” He gave her a roguish grin. Then his demeanor turned serious.

“You’ve refused to accept me as ordinary from the very first day we met. Some might call it nagging. Well, I did too. But somehow, it had evolved into a challenge for me. You became my validation. Like if I did something that you found brilliant, than I must have done something really genius. And I knew, if I just worked hard at it, I really will become that extraordinary. You were like that special Golden Snitch. I thought, once I’ve proven myself to Hermione and we get together, I won’t be plain Ronald Weasley anymore. Everything will fall into place. And I’ll be the hero in the story and get my happily ever after.”

“Oh, Ron.” He shook his head at her, motioning that he wasn’t finished.

“But when we were already together, the feeling didn’t last. You became more and more elusive every day. It’s like, I’m pushing my broom to the limit but I still can’t catch up with you. I don’t think I ever did.” He admitted softly to her.

Hermione looked back at him with deep regret in her brown eyes. “I am so sorry, Ron. I didn’t mean to make you feel so inadequate. I swear, I didn’t see you as such.”

Ron raised disbelieving eyes at her.

She gently took his hands in hers. “I think, we might be looking for different things. It was our first adult relationship, Ron. We had no idea what we wanted then and we both thought that what we wanted was each other. But we’ve changed, both of us. I think in the beginning, if I complained about something, you took that as a challenge to change. But that kind of pressure is draining. It’s the same with me when I couldn’t do something you wanted. I berated myself for expecting perfection from you since I was trying so hard to be your idea of a perfect girlfriend.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “But now, I think I wasn’t really looking for perfection. I was looking for someone who understood me for me, and loved me despite my imperfections. I wanted the freedom to be imperfect. I don’t have all the answers and I can’t always save you. And you,” She looked at him with such gentle warmth, his throat constricted with unshed tears. “You need to feel extraordinary not because of something you’ve achieved but because you are you.”

“So this is it then?”

Hermione gave him a sweet smile. “But, you will always be my best friend.”

“Well, Harry’s mine so that might be a problem.”

Hermione looked shocked at first. Then, she sputtered into laughter.

Bingo number 2, Ron thought, feeling a mite proud of himself.

“I will always love you, Hermione. I never meant to hurt you.”

Her laughter died down and she threw herself into his arms, hugging him so tight he thought she’d never let go.

“I love you too, Ron. I’m sorry that it has come to this. Take care of yourself, and don’t do anything stupid. You’ll always be a joy to me.”

He stood up and disapparated back to the Burrow.

************************

Alone under the moon, Ron contemplated what had happened.

He was sitting on a bench a few feet from the Burrow. He had thought to come to Harry’s but at the last second changed his mind and went home. Harry was too involved in everything he was going through, and he needed a respite from the barrage of drama he’d had that night.

So now, he found himself alone hidden under the solitary moon. His arms felt horribly empty, missing such a vital part of himself. A part that he had left sitting back at the flat he no longer cared to call his own.

In a week, Hermione would be leaving. She would be gone, just like that. The pain of it struck him again but the tears did not come this time. In a week, he would be forced to consider a life he never gave a thought before. And he was scared shitless.

Bloody Gryffindor I am, afraid to be alone, he sighed grumpily to himself.

He was conflicted between feeling depressed at the chapter he closed in his life tonight and the promise of the unknown future before him.

Lost in thought, he jumped as he spied a figure in the shadows. He gripped his wand.

“Hello, Ronald.” A dreamy voice greeted him.

Ron exhaled loudly. “Loon – Luna. Bloody hell, woman, didn’t anyone tell you it’s not polite to sneak up on people like that?”

Luna emerged into the moonlight. She looked puzzled by his question. “Well, not really. But then again, I’ve never asked.”

Ron let out an involuntary chuckle, eager for company to rescue him from the swirling mass of emotion he was going through. “How’ve you been? I thought you and your father were out on a hunting expedition?”

“We had to cut it short. Father received a report on a Nargle infestation near here.”

Ron tried to quell the amused smile that tugged at his lips. “Nargles?”

“You remember, I’ve told you guys to be wary of them. Father always said…” Luna’s voice cut off as she took in her first good look at his face. “Are you alright, Ronald?” Her voice was suspiciously lacking its usual dreamy quality.

Ron shook his head. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me about them Nargles?”

Luna smiled at him again as she made her way to the bench.

**********************

Disclaimers: Please see chapter 1

A/N: Hello there, again. Here’s the latest chapter, in Harry’s POV. Special thanks to The_Scribbler, as always, for his excellent beta work. My apologies for the readers of An In-Between Summer. The next update would be next week, I had to go away for work and I just didn’t have the time. But I promise, it will be next week. Still haven’t figured out my formatting problem, so please bear with me. If you know how to help, email me please. Thanks, guys.

A/N: I borrowed (with permission) the idea of the Finder from DeliverMeFromEve’s “Forever Knight.” It was in the chapter entitled “Rain.” If you haven’t read that story, please take the time to do it. It is an amazing piece of fiction.

Chapter 4 – Let Me Go

“In my head there's only you now

This world falls on me

In this world there's real and make believe

And this seems real to me

And you love me but you don't know who I am

I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand

And you love me but you don't know who I am

So let me go, let me go

I dream ahead to what I hope for

And I turn my back on loving you

How can this love be a good thing?

And I know what I'm going through

In my head there's only you now

This world falls on me

In this world there's real and make believe

And this seems real to me

And you love me but you don't know who I am

I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand

And you love me but you don't know who I am

So let me go, just let me go, let me go”

- “Let Me Go”, 3 Doors Down

************************

19^th September, 2005

Harry Potter knocked soundly on the door of apartment 6B.

From inside the flat, he could hear the shuffling of feet. The door opened to reveal Hermione Granger, hair all askew, pillow marks still on her cheeks.

Harry grinned. Hermione just stood there holding the door, hand on her hip, glaring at him.

“Would you mind telling me what you’re doing pounding at my door at,” She broke off to glance at the clock in her living room wall, “seven bloody o’clock in the morning?”

“I took a personal day.”

“Which still does not answer my question why you’re here at my door, in Paris, no less , at an unholy hour on a Saturday.”

Harry’s grin grew wider if possible. “Happy Birthday, Hermione. Aren’t you going to let me in?”

Hermione gave a long-suffering sigh, then stepped back from the door, indicating he can come inside.

“This better be good,” She muttered as he passed by her.

He smirked at her. “Of course it is. And you’re late.” He looked at his watch, “It’s already 8am in England. The shops should be opening soon.”

Hermione gaped at him. “You have to be kidding me.”

Harry bounced on the balls of his feet. “Nope. C’mon, ‘Mione, get ready. I promise the surprise is worth it.”

“We’ll see.” She grumbled under her breath as he half-dragged, half-pushed her back to her bedroom to urge her start preparing.

“You know, I distinctly remember you being a lot cheerier in the mornings when we were at Hogwarts.”

“That was already after two cups of coffee, Harry.”

“Then coffee is coming up. Go on, have your shower, I’ll fix us a quick bite and take care of everything.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him and he tried his best to give her his most innocent smile. She said nothing as she took the towel he offered and went inside the bath.

Harry suppressed a cry of triumph as he watched her enter the bath before he turned to go to the kitchen to make the promised breakfast.

*************************

“Can you please tell me what I’m doing in the loo of the London terminal, changing into my Hogwarts uniform?”

Harry sighed. After the quick breakfast at Hermione’s flat, he directed her to the International Portkey terminal to catch the 8:30 schedule back to London. Once arriving, he pulled out their old Hogwarts uniforms out of the duffel bag he was carrying and demanded that they both change into it. Harry refused to tell her why and so she was still badgering him as she changed inside the loo.

“C’mon on, Hermione. I know you’re done.”

She came out and Harry gulped. The uniforms were from three years ago and so the difference in fit was astoundingly obvious. The skirt was shorter on her than he remembered, displaying long, amazingly smooth, lightly tanned legs. The white oxford shirt and gray jumper hugged her upper body, displaying a figure that had sadly been hidden beneath the shapeless black robes.

Hermione looked down at herself self-consciously. “Can you pass me the robes? I look ridiculous.”

“What do you mean? You look great.”

“Harry, it’s too small. These were from our sixth year; I’ve changed considerably since then.”

“I won’t wear the robes if you won’t.”

Hermione looked at him then. The uniforms were indeed from their sixth year and so were terribly fitting on both of them. He knew that the pants were at least three inches above his heel, the shirt and jumper’s hem reached just a couple of inches below his belt. The sleeves were obviously too short and he had to keep three buttons at the top open just to be able to breathe comfortably.

Hermione snorted a laugh. “Hey, I don’t think I look that ridiculous, do you?” He gave himself a quick glance but he was grinning madly when he looked back at her. Harry slung the duffel again on his shoulder and then offered his arm to her.

“I think you know where we’re going. Shall we?”

Hermione gave him a big smile and they disapparated.

**********************

“I can’t believe it looks exactly the same.” She sighed.

“You don’t think it looks less scary?” Harry asked beside her, looking studiously at the Shrieking Shack.

“I think that might be because we know it’s really not haunted.”

“Could be.”

They heard their names being shouted and they turned to see Ron walking towards them. As soon as he was near enough for them to see him properly, Harry and Hermione looked at each other and promptly lost themselves in laughter.

“Bloody Hell, Harry, did you have to spell them to be resistant to adjustment charms?” Ron complained loudly as he reached them. Harry couldn’t answer him as he was still doubled up in laughter.

“Har bloody har, har. And what did you do to my robes? Mum couldn’t find a single Hogwarts robe anywhere at home. Seven kids, and not a single robe!” He glared murderously at him.

Ron wasn’t finished ranting though. “Of all the bloody hare brained ideas, Potter, this takes the cake.” He put his hands indignantly on his waist and looked at Hermione. “Did you know he also charmed them so that I couldn’t take them off once I’ve seen how they fit?”

Hermione was gasping for breath, clutching him as they looked at Ron. Of the three of them, he was the one who had grown the most. His pants were showing about an inch of leg above his ankle socks. His shirt and jumper ended just right above the belt, showing white skin underneath whenever he twisted his torso. The sleeve was about four inches short from the wrist. Like Harry, he opened the first few buttons of his shirt just to be able to be more comfortable. All in all, Ron looked like he was wearing uniforms that he swiped from a much younger brother or cousin.

Ron glared at both of them again. “It’s really not funny, you know.”

“Come on, Ron. We all look the same.”

Ron only glared at him but then Harry saw him glance at Hermione and take in her appearance. Harry could almost read the thoughts running through his best mate’s brain. He stiffened and blocked Ron’s view of Hermione’s body with his own and glowered at Ron.

“Oy, no ogling the birthday celebrant.”

Ron flushed, but he just shrugged at him, grinning broadly. Hermione peeked from behind his shoulder, blushing. “How charming, Harry. I can’t believe you actually defended my honor.” She teased him.

Harry felt his face warm up. He didn’t know what happened or why he reacted that way. The only thing he was sure of was that this was Hermione’s special day. She was going through a difficult time and he took measures to ensure to make this birthday extra special. He didn’t want anything to ruin it, and he’ll be damned before he let anyone else make her feel embarrassed or uncomfortable today.

“It’s nothing.” He said, still blushing. “Shall we go to the bookstore? I know they’re already open, I checked.”

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him and he blushed deeper still. His eyes dropped to the ground. “I just want everything to go as planned.” He murmured.

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Harry raised his eyes to her and she gave him the sweetest smile. He could see the life sparkling again in those cinnamon pools and he felt wonderfully elated. He tugged her towards the bookstore.

Ron followed them silently. Once they reached the bookstore, Harry opened the door for Hermione. He moved to follow her but Ron grabbed his arm. Harry nodded at Hermione to go on without them. She made a circling motion with her hand, indicating she’ll be browsing.

He turned to Ron, who was looking at him with a relieved expression.

“Thanks, mate.”

He frowned. “What for?”

Ron motioned Hermione with a nudge of his head. Harry peeked inside to see her happily engrossed reading title after title. He looked back at Ron. “She needed this.”

Ron silently nodded his assent and they went inside to join Hermione, both men intent on making her birthday the best day they could possibly give her.

************************

Harry sighed. It was the most peaceful he had ever felt in a long while.

He was lying on the grass, facing the lake, under their tree at Hogwarts.

His head was pillowed on Hermione’s lap, her fingers soothingly running through his wild locks. She was sitting comfortably against the boulder while Ron was stretched out against the tree trunk. Around them were chocolate frog wrappers, half-eaten sugar quills, Bertie Bott’s boxes, and a few more evidence of their stroll through memory lane.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend and so they blended, albeit a bit weirdly, through the throngs of Hogwarts students around the wizarding town. They went through all their old haunts, relieving days when they were a lot younger, when life was simpler, and they psyches were a lot less scarred. Eventually, they found themselves in Hogwarts, resting under the tree they had long considered their own.

“We should do this more often.” He heard Hermione say softly.

“Dress terribly in public and embarrass ourselves horribly?” Ron quipped.

Hermione didn’t take the bait. “No, spend more times like this.”

Harry opened his half-closed eyes and turned his head to look at her. She looked calm, and content as she watched the squid’s tentacles lazily cutting through the lake. She looked radiant.

“You look beautiful.” He blurted out.

Hermione started. She blushed and turned her eyes away. “Thank you, Harry. It’s nice of you to say so on my birthday.”

“I’m serious. You look beautiful like this.” He didn’t know what he meant but as soon as she met his eyes, he knew she understood what he wanted to say. A smile played across her lips and she dipped her head down to brush her silken lips against the faded skin of his scar. “Thank you for today, Harry.”

He just smiled back at her.

*********************

After dropping Hermione off at her parent’s house for her dinner with her father, Harry happily apparated to his flat.

He found Ginny in his bedroom, tracing the picture of his graduation day that was resting by his bed. “Ginny, what a nice surprise.”

She gave him a forced smile. “Did you have a nice time? I saw Ron this morning. He looked hilarious.”

Harry’s face broke into a grin. “Oh yeah, I should have taken a picture. I had a great time.”

Ginny faced him squarely and he sobered at the traces of dried tears on her cheeks. “Ginny,” He started. She shook her head at him. He came to her and wrapped her in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Ginny leaned back and looked him in the eyes. “Please let me go, Harry.”

Harry immediately released her, thinking she was hurt. “Do you need me to take you to St. Mungo’s? What happened, Gin?”

Ginny shook her head forcibly, a frantic expression marring her face. She stood up and paced in front of him. “I’m not hurt.”

“What’s wrong, Gin? Tell me, you’re scaring me here.” He pleaded with her.

Ginny looked at him again, searching his eyes for something. “I…I need you to let me go, Harry.”

“I don’t understand.”

Tears started to fall on her cheeks. Harry panicked. He stood up and moved to go to her but Ginny’s hand raised up as she took a step back from him. Harry stopped, confused.

She took a deep breath. “I can’t do this anymore.” She indicated with her hand that she meant the two of them.

Harry felt the air sucked out of him. To say that this was unexpected was a major understatement. He couldn’t move as he stared at her, mouth agape.

“Why, Ginny? I…I don’t understand. Did… Did I do something wrong?” Harry asked totally gobsmacked.

Ginny just looked at him, tears coursing down her cheeks. “No, you didn’t. I…” She bowed her head. “I just think I deserve better.” She whispered.

Harry’s temper rose. “Better?! What are you saying, Ginny? Explain yourself! I think I deserve that at least. I think I’ve been a good boyfriend, haven’t I? I always send you flowers; we go on dates regularly; I’ve never missed an occasion. I always owl you, I’m goddamned always being strong for you. I’ve always been there for you to run to. What more, Ginny?” His voice rose in volume with every statement as he was swept by anger and hurt.

Ginny’s breath caught in a sob. “Harry, please.”

“What, Ginny? Please what?!”

Ginny faced him then. “I don’t want a boyfriend who only shares half his life with me. I..I’d like to think I deserve better, Harry.”

Harry was stunned. He felt the bed meet his arse as strength left his legs. “I don’t understand.”

“You’ve always kept your distance with me.” Ginny raised her hand to stop him as his mouth opened to deny what she said. “I don’t think you even know it, Harry. But you’ve always guarded too much of yourself from me. It’s kept us apart. It always has!”

“But…”

“I’m not finished. Do you have any idea how hurtful it is to be reminded again and again that the person you love, the one you would do anything for, says he loves you but never needs you?”

Harry shook his head. “What...”

Ginny looked at him, eyes flashing with her temper. “Do you know, Harry, that you never even told me about the prophecy?”

“That was a long time ago, Gin! It was something I didn’t want to be reminded of. I can’t believe this.”

“That’s not the point. How can you leave out something as important as that? Or what happened during the Horcrux hunt? You told me of how you missed me, yes, but have you even considered sharing what happened? I had to learn all of this from Ron and Hermione!”

“I did that to protect you!” He yelled.

“You did that because you couldn’t share it with me!” She yelled back. “This is supposed to be a relationship, Harry. We’re supposed to share all aspects of our lives, not edited portions of it!”

Ginny took a deep breath. “I gave you everything, Harry. I told you everything that happened from the time you left after Bill’s wedding till we saw each other again at the Room of Requirement. You shared my life even if you weren’t there. I trusted you enough to show you who I am. I gave it all, what more do you need for you to trust me?”

Harry felt like his head was going to explode. “I…” He looked at her and his gaze softened. “I do trust you, Ginny.”

Tears were running down her cheeks again. “But not enough to let me in.”

“It was another time, Ginny. They weren’t particularly happy times, and I was a different person back then.”

“But you can tell Hermione about it.” She said bitterly.

Harry looked at her with betrayed hurt in his eyes. That sort of comment was something he expected from someone else; certainly, not from Ginny. She seemed to realize what she said though and looked instantly apologetic. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“She’s your friend, too, Ginny.” He said accusingly.

“I’m really sorry, Harry.”

Harry turned his head away from her. Everything was happening so fast, he had no idea how to catch up. He had been so happy that morning, only to have this dropped on him suddenly. “Ginny.”

“I can’t even apparate directly to your flat with you adjusting the wards first.” She whispered.

Harry flushed. He didn’t know what to say to that.

“Do you think I don’t know you’re having trouble sleeping? Do you really think I don’t know about the nightmares? There’s a dreamless sleep potion right beside your bed, Harry. There’s always been a vial of that potion by your bed ever since we got together.”

“I didn’t want you to see the nightmares, Gin. It’s not pretty.” He said pleadingly.

Ginny laughed bitterly. “Do you really think that, Harry? Why, do you think they’ll make me think less of you, worship you less?”

“If you had really wanted to know about it, Ginny, you would have insisted more. You seem to know a lot about the nightmares, why didn’t you let me know before? Or are you too afraid of what you might see when you finally see me thrashing in the middle of the night, whimpering like a scared little child?” Harry snarled at her.

Ginny reddened and averted her eyes. “I don’t like who I am anymore, Harry. I’m becoming this obsessed, weak, pathetic creature whose only desire in life is to please you. I can’t even choose a job yet, I’m too busy trying to be your girlfriend to look through my job offers.”

Harry was stricken by what she said. His heart felt like it was painfully squeezed by the knowledge that he was hurting the person he strived hardest to protect. His head fell into his hands, stilling the tears that were threatening to fall.

“Harry,” Ginny’s voice held a note of desperation. “Please. Let me go.”

Harry fought against the tears. He refused to let them fall, knowing they’ll only serve to hurt her more. Inwardly struggling for control, he raised his head to look at her.

“I…I don’t have the strength to leave you. I’m sorry, Harry. Please.” Her eyes were begging him. “Save me, one last time.” She whispered almost inaudibly.

Harry swallowed his hurt and wretchedly pushed the tears back down. He prayed to whatever Gods were listening for strength.

“It’s over, Gin.” He said softly to her.

**************************

Harry walked faster. He couldn’t get away from the image of Ginny lying on the floor crying despondently from out of his head.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to go to Hermione; he knew she was still having dinner with her father. And he didn’t really want to ruin her day. Not after he’d seen how happy she was after their Hogsmeade outing. He ended up on one of the park benches, hiding out under the cover of the new moon.

The words he and Ginny exchanged played over and over in his head. He felt so hurt and angry, mostly at himself. He couldn’t imagine how he had managed to do the very thing he had sworn to protect Ginny against. Now, in the cover of darkness, he had to face the fact that in trying too hard to protect her, he had inadvertently managed to hurt her even more. He grabbed his hair, as if to tear his pain out.

He stood up and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

“Tom, can I use your floo please?”

“Of course, Harry. It’s out back.” The friendly bartender smiled at him.

Harry threw the green powder into the fireplace. “The Burrow!” Harry waited a moment, and then stuck his head into the green flames. “Ron!”

Ron scrambled into view, clothes askew. “Harry! What’s the matter?”

“Can you meet me at the Three Broomsticks in ten minutes?”

“Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

Harry’s voice cracked. “Please, Ron.”

“Of course, mate. I’ll see you there.”

**********************************

“I broke up with Ginny.” Harry said softly.

“What? Why’d you do that?” Ron was stunned.

They’ve been at the Three Broomsticks, sipping glasses of Firewhiskey for about three hours. Apparently imbibing enough alcohol, Harry finally plucked the courage to tell Ron why he asked him so abruptly to meet him.

“I…I think I wasn’t good enough for her anymore.”

Ron turned red. “You bloody wanker! What did you do to my kid sister?”

“I have no idea, Ron. I did everything I could to keep her safe and happy.” He commiserated.

Ron didn’t say anything. He took another sip of the whiskey. “She asked you to break up with her didn’t she?”

Harry looked at Ron suspiciously. “How did you know that? Did she tell you?”

Ron scowled. “No. I know you, Harry, and I know my sister.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously it wasn’t your idea since you don’t know why you split. And you said it was you who broke up with her.”

“You can understand this even after three glasses of Firewhiskey?” Harry peered at him. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”

“What the hell am I here, the bloody comic relief?” Ron sputtered. “You and Hermione are a pair of arses, you know that? She said exactly the same thing and all I was doing was trying to help her too.”

“Yeah, Hermione and I are the saddest pair of arses I know. Cheers to that, mate.”

“Sod off, Harry.” Ron said though he did clink his glass with Harry’s own, taking a huge gulp.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand how women’s minds work.” Ron said.

“Cheers to that, mate.” He replied, raising his glass.

*****************************

Harry had no idea how they managed to drink almost a third of that bottle of Firewhiskey. He also had no idea what he was doing skulking around in Hermione’s parents’ house. He found himself underneath her window, trying to get a glimpse of conscious life from inside the room.

Rummaging in the dark, he grasped a small pebble. Aiming haphazardly, he threw the pebble to her window. Not having complete control, he threw it too strong and heard the pane crack.

“Ooops.” He giggled.

“What in the world? Harry?” Hermione’s head stuck out the window, trying to see him in the dark.

“Hi, Hermione.” He waved at her.

“Harry, what are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?” She whispered furiously in the dark.

“Can I come up?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” He heard her exclaim. “Go on to the front door, I’ll come get you.”

Harry staggered towards the front door. A minute later, the door opened. Hermione took one look at him. “You’re drunk.”

“Just a bit.”

She sighed. Then she took one of his arms and guided him up the stairs to her room. Once there, she took off his jacket and motioned him sit on the bed. She took off his shoes then turned the covers over. Harry moved to lie on the right side, as he knew she favored the left side of the bed. He turned over to face her on his side, only to find that she had slipped under the blanket and was already facing him.

“So?” She whispered.

“I broke up with Ginny.” He said flatly.

Hermione gasped. She took one of his hands and held it in the middle of the bed, hers covering his.

“I didn’t even see it coming. She just surprised me with it.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Harry.” She said softly.

He fell silent. He sighed.

“Okay, so I knew things weren’t terribly right for a long time now. But I thought we could talk about it. Like normal people.”

“Oh, Harry.”

“I think, that was it. We never really talked, Ginny and I. We were always doing something; snogging, Quidditch, or participating in the middle of a Weasley family occasion. We’ve never really sat down one quiet afternoon and just talked.”

“What did she say to you, Harry?”

He dropped his eyes. “She…she told me she doesn’t want half a boyfriend. I don’t even know what that means. She said I don’t tell her things, that I’m keeping her at arm’s length. She said she doesn’t like that her whole life revolves around me.”

“Listen to me.” Hermione’s voice was laced with steel. Harry raised his eyes at her.

“I know you, Harry. You didn’t hurt her.” Harry averted his eyes again. “Don’t berate yourself for something that she chose. I can’t believe it; she made you break up with her didn’t she?”

“How did you know?” He asked quietly.

“I know you. And I know Ginny. She won’t break up with you, she can’t. But if she wasn’t happy, she can ask you do it for her. Now, she’s the damsel in distress dumped by her fairytale prince. She can happily move on now, feeling completely justified because you broke up with her.” Hermione said vehemently.

“This isn’t just your fault, Harry. Don’t let her make you believe that. Things like these,” She broke off.

She continued in a fevered whisper, almost as if she was talking to herself. “It happens, Harry. You don’t know when it started. But you start doing things you know deep down is wrong because you want them to be happy with you. And you keep on doing it until you forget it was wrong in the first place. And now, when it’s all fallen apart, you’re left with nothing but doubts and a shadow of who you thought you were.”

Harry’s throat constricted with tears. Hermione just stared at him, her hand covering hers. And finally, they fell down his cheeks silently.

He didn’t make a sound. He just let everything flow out of his eyes and onto her pillow. After a few moments, none were left.

Harry felt cleansed.

He moved his hand to caress her cheek. “Hermione,” He said softly. He brought his hand down in the middle of the bed again, this time, his hand covering hers.

They talked of nothing and everything, just facing each other on her bed. In time, the alcohol and fatigue got to Harry and his voice became sluggish and his words a bit slurred.

“You have to go to sleep, Harry.” Hermione admonished him gently.

“Wait, I haven’t given your present yet.”

“The Hogsmeade visit was enough for me, Harry. It meant more than I can say.”

“But that’s not a gift. Hold on.” Harry took out a small velvet box from his pocket and gave it to her. Hermione accepted it silently but didn’t open it. She looked at him again.

“Go on, open it.” He urged. Hermione opened the velvet box and found what looked like a compass on a chain. The chain had a clip on the end, with teeth, so it could be attached to anything. The compass itself was set in a simple elegant design of gleaming silver, but its face was a fairy tale dream of cows jumping over the moon, blackbirds in a pie, Georgie Porgie kissing girls and Jack jumping over the candlestick. There were more images that moved about, the scenery changing at every turn.

“Oh, Harry, it’s a Finder! I love it! However did you get one? I heard these are extremely rare.”

Harry grinned stupidly at the childlike enthusiasm on Hermione’s face. She was examining it more closely, the needle turning continuously with the symbols for North, South, East, and West also moving.

“So you know how it works?”

“Of course. It’s supposed to be able to find whatever you’re looking for. It still has its limits like distance and magical protection, of course, or things you haven’t seen before. But there are always ways around that, you just have to find ways to outsmart the Finder and make it work for you. Oh, you shouldn’t have gotten me this, Harry. It must be terribly expensive.”

“I wanted you to have one.” Harry stifled a yawn.

“But why? It’s handy, I know, but it’s still too expensive a gift to give me.”

“Hermione, I bought that for you. I even signed an autograph and gave that snitch from the first time we won the Quidditch cup to a guy from the Unspeakables to charm the thing to work in a radius of roughly the size of England.”

Harry briefly caressed her cheek. He could feel an alcohol induced sleep starting to claim him.

He covered her hand again with his. “You’re only been to Paris for a month but I’ve missed you terribly. And I’m always so worried about you living so far away. I gave you the Finder to make extra sure you can always find me.” He said sluggishly, his eyes starting to droop.

“I don’t want you to ever lose me.” He managed to murmur as sleep finally overtook his tired brain.

***********************

Disclaimers: Please see Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks again for all the support, guys. It’s been a fab ride. I still haven’t figured out my format problem. If you want me to email you a copy in my formats, please email me at angel.of.isis@gmail.com. Special thanks again to The_Scribbler for the excellent beta work. I’ve also uploaded the Epilogue, hope you guys enjoyed my little fic!

Chapter 5 – Ever the Same

“We were drawn from the weeds

We were brave like soldiers

Falling down under the pale moonlight

You were holding me

Like someone broken

And I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now

Just let me hold you while you're falling apart

Just let me hold you and we'll both fall down

Fall on me

Tell me everything you want me to be

Forever with you, forever in me

Ever the same

We would stand in the wind

We were free like water

Flowing down

Under the warmth of the sun

Now it's cold and we're scared

And we've both been shaken

Hey, look at us, man

This doesn't need to be the end

Just let me hold you while you're falling apart

Just let me hold you and we'll both fall down

Fall on me tell me everything you want me to be

Forever with you, forever in me

Ever the same

Call on me

I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me

Forever it's you

Forever in me

Ever the same

You may need me there

To carry all your weight

But you're no burden, I assure

You tide me over

With a warmth I'll not forget

And I can only give you love

Fall on me tell me everything you want me to be

Forever with you, forever in me

Ever the same

Call on me

I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me

Forever it's you

Forever in me

Ever the same”

- Ever the Same, Rob Thomas

***************************************

24^th December, 2005

Harry watched the full moon shining down brightly that Christmas Eve. The silver moonlight touched everything gently, making the snow glisten with an ethereal glow.

It was already quiet at the Tonks’ residence. His godson, Teddy Lupin, had been put to bed hours before. Andromeda had excused herself not too long after, leaving him to enjoy the warmth of the fire on the living room. Feeling restless, he went outside to contemplate the silence of the night.

After Remus died, Harry had taken to spending Christmas Eve with his godson and Andromeda. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had been a bit miffed at the tradition he started at first, but he was adamant that he do everything in his power to make his godson’s Christmases special. It had been one of the points of contention between him and Ginny.

Ginny. Three months into their break-up, thinking about her still produced a dull ache that he suspected would not ever go away. Ginny had been his escape at a time when everything was such a burden for him. He let her feisty nature distract him from the responsibilities he had faced at such a young age. She was the promise of a reward after almost a lifetime of difficulties. And he had done his best to preserve that escape. He refused to taint her with any of the horrendous realities he had discovered after Sirius died. And he had strived even more to keep her away from the fighting, thanking the Gods for Mrs. Weasley’s determination to send her to school despite Ron leaving with him for the Horcrux hunt.

When Voldemort was finally defeated, he expected to feel an indescribable feeling of release. What he didn’t expect was the feeling of loss and regret. Sacrifices, great sacrifices had been made to achieve victory. Parents, friends, brothers, sons and daughters had been lost in the fight; people who would only be mourned and talked about from then on.

People everywhere had been celebrating the end of war. In each of the parties they went to, Harry had inadvertently felt removed from the happiness that was palpable from everyone. He couldn’t figure out why. It was his celebration, if he thought about it. Voldemort was defeated and his life was his to live again. And yet, all he felt was loss. He had no idea what to do now, or where to go. Confronted with the possibility of choices in his life, Harry was stumped at the realization that he did not know what he truly wanted to do. Decisions, it seemed, was easier to accomplish when in the face of life and death situations.

Forced to a standstill, wounds unseen and ignored had bled anew. Emotional wounds he had disregarded before had festered and spread without his knowledge. Not knowing what to do, he had grasped at anything he could that resembled a normal life. He went back to Ginny and had thrown himself at Hermione’s improvised classes then. He worked hard to be an Auror, and together with Ron and Hermione, vowed to change the Ministry bit by bit to ensure that the sacrifices of war would never be forgotten.

In striving to be normal, he had boxed his relationship with Ginny, he realized now. He had unconsciously limited what she could know about him and what he could share with her. The things he had seen, the nightmares, anything that he had associated with his life before Voldemort died was never to taint the rose-colored life he had with her.

He had heard it said once that Ginny never did lose her adoration of him as the Boy-Who-Lived and thus their relationship was doomed from the start because of her. What not many people realized was that he never did see her as anything besides the girl who held the promise of a normal life. She just represented what he so wanted that he never did really see who she was. Harry knew what kind of life he wanted with her but he had never asked his supposed ideal girl what she had wanted. He had dominated their relationship too much, controlled it too tight in fear of what would happen lest he become less vigilant. And she had let him. Harry shook his head. Though it hurt him when she asked him to let her go, Harry had seen how she had lost herself in their relationship. And despite being unhappy and discontent in their relationship, Harry knew that he would never have asked for the break-up first. He just didn’t have the heart to hurt her so deliberately. He had really loved Ginny when they were together; and yet, he can’t help but wonder how he could truly love someone he never knew. He concluded that both he and Ginny had done what she could to make the relationship work but it had been become unhealthy for either of them for quite a long time already. It was right that they had ended their relationship at a point where they still had an idea of who they are and not when they had totally lost each other completely. Hermione was right; you never really know when these things happen.

Now, Hermione was a different issue altogether. Harry sighed. How he longed for times when he never thought of Hermione as an issue. But she was one now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Harry wasn’t stupid; he knew something was happening between them. Since splitting up with Ginny, he spent almost every weekend in Paris with her; Sometimes, popping up even during the week to have the odd lunch or dinner with her. Hermione had Sirius’ communication mirrors fixed and had given it to him on his birthday together with a snapshot of them with Dobby in the Room of Requirement. He promptly gave the other mirror to her when she moved, telling her sternly to call anytime she needed someone to talk to, assuring her that he’ll do the same. Any time, apparently, meant almost every night with them. Somehow, it had become a habit they couldn’t break. Sometimes, Harry would see an interesting book and would call her on the mirror just to ask if she wanted him to buy it for her. He really didn’t know where they were headed for now, but each meeting between them had held a note of promise growing bigger and bigger. Each touch, each call, each look was suddenly so special between them even though they both realized that they had actually been doing it half their lives to each other.

However, he also knew that Hermione carried her own scars. He could only imagine her nightmares since Bellatrix had tortured her at Malfoy Manor. Her screams then were still a presence in his dreams. Harry sighed again; how he had wanted her to spend Christmas Eve with him. But he knew, her father and her still needed each other to get through this holiday.

Harry looked up at the full moon again. Thinking about Hermione always calmed him down, a quietly happy feeling so unfamiliar before had become a constant companion to his thoughts of her. He stared at the moon, trying to reach out to her. He stilled. His brow furrowed for some reason, and he knew that he had to go to her.

************************

Harry went to Hermione’s house and finding she had left, he knew, without a doubt, where she had gone.

He found her standing in front of her mother’s tombstone, arms wrapped around herself. She looked so frail and vulnerable; his arms ached to hold her.

He stopped about three feet from her, not wanting to disturb her yet knowing she knew he was there. “Hermione.” He called her softly.

She raised her head to look at him and his throat constricted from the pain he saw in them.

“Why won’t they stop, Harry? Why can’t I escape the memories?” She asked him despairingly.

Harry couldn’t move. A wave of guilt suffused him. He knew, part of her suffering was a result of who he was.

“I don’t know.” He said.

“I’m just so tired of pretending I can handle this. I haven’t been able to sleep straight since it happened.”

Harry slowly walked towards her. He raised her chin so he can look her in the eyes. He caressed her cheek. “You don’t always have to be so strong, you know.”

“But I have to be.” She replied, her eyes misting. “I’ve always been the one with the answers. I’ve always been the one with the plan. How could it have happened? Why didn’t I know they weren’t safe yet?”

He just stared at her. “You can’t be prepared for everything. As much as you try to protect everyone you love, they can still get hurt. I know, I’ve tried.” He gave her a wry smile.

She dropped her eyes to the marble marker. “Every night I see her. I hear her screams as they crucio’d her.”

“I always hear yours.” He half-whispered.

Hermione raised her eyes to his again. Harry leaned over and brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You, who have always been so strong”, he said tenderly. His lips traveled over her eyes, placing a butterfly kiss on each. “You, who’ve always taken care of me.” He moved his head to the left side of her face and brushed his lips on the apple of her cheek. “You, who’ve always been at my side.”

Harry pulled back and looked deeply into her infinite eyes. “Trust me, now, to be here for you.”

His lips finally met hers. Softly, tenderly; the kiss promising to the other that they always be there for each other. Harry opened his mouth slightly, moving over hers, coaxing her in slowly.

A hundred different memories flashed behind his closed lids. When they first met; when their eyes first spoke silently to each other that time she lied for them after they had saved her from the troll; the feel of his first hug coming from her; her annoyance every time he had slacked off; her arms around him as they rode Buckbeak to save Sirius; the belief in her eyes when he told her he didn’t put his name in the goblet; how she looked at the Yule Ball; him and her running from the centaurs after tricking Umbridge; how she had stayed with him in the woods as their best friend left them to the unknown; how she had stood at Dobby’s funeral despite her injuries.

Each image of Hermione in his memories coalesced into the amazing young woman in front of him as he caressed her lips with his.

He felt the first drop of her tears on his cheek. Pulling back, he saw them running down silently. He put his arms fully around her, placing her face against his chest, and she finally gave in to the tears and cried.

Crying women had always been a problem for him. Crying women made him break out in a sweat; they made him nervous and feel inadequate.

But this was Hermione. She wasn’t just any woman. She had been by his side through everything. They’ve fought evil and each other. They’ve shared horrors no nineteen and twenty year olds should have known.

He thought he needed to escape for him to feel peace. But there surrounded by tombstones commemorating lives lost and remembered; he held the person who had always been there through everything. And he felt he had finally come home.

Hermione’s sobs racked her petite frame. More than a year’s worth of doubts and remorse were released in the presence of the one person who had always accepted her for who she was. She finally let herself feel the pain and the helplessness as she had watched while errant Death Eaters broke into her home and tortured her mother to death while they bound her. Her confidence in her abilities and magic shaken by the memory of what she had been unable to protect. She let Harry’s presence be her companion as she faced her fears.

Her cries echoed across the cemetery. Harry caught her as her strength failed to support her weight; both of them falling to their knees on the soft, green grass. Harry cooed incomprehensible words of comfort that touched her soul as no one else’s could.

Harry’s tears soon followed her own. Tears for lost opportunities and for the premature loss of their childhood and innocence coursed through their cheeks mingling together as they had faced countless obstacles in their young lives.

***********************

Harry took Hermione back to his flat as soon as she managed to calm down. He laid her down softly on his bed, taking great care to take off her shoes and her coat. He pulled the covers, placing her under the warmth of his winter blanket.

Taking off his own coat and shoes, he joined her and enveloped her in his arms. She hasn’t said a word since leaving the cemetery. Her arms tightened on his waist and he kissed the top of her head.

“Harry,” Her voice was scratchy from crying. Her eyes were puffy from her collapse earlier.

He replied, “Yes, Love?”

She raised her head to look at him. A thousand words were exchanged from that single look they exchanged. “How did you know how to find me?” She asked softly. She made a try for levity. “Did you get a Finder for yourself?”

Harry didn’t smile back. He took one of her hands and placed it above his heart. “I always know where you are.” He whispered. He gave her a small half-smile. “We’re a sad lot, you and I. It had to take us several tragedies to realize what we needed was right in front of us. It was you all along, Hermione.”

Her eyes held an unspeakable sadness. “Do you really think this is right, after all these years?”

Harry’s eyes were solemn as he tried to convey the sincerity of his words. “I looked for normal. I looked everywhere for what will define me besides the destiny I had been born with. I thought I found it in Ginny, I thought I had found an escape from who I was and what I had been through.”

He tucked a stray strand of her behind her ear, tenderness stealing over his face. “What I’ve realized is that you can’t really run from who you are. The horrors, along with the good times, make us who we are now. How can I really regret the mistakes and bad memories if they had been the ones that have shaped me who I am today? How can I regret the very things that had thrust me into a path where I met someone who not only had been there with me through everything, but who had already accepted me – bad temper and all – before I had even accepted myself?”

Tears fell down her face again. “Don’t cry, Hermione. Everything that had happened, I think, was necessary for us to go through. It wasn’t our time yet then. We were too young, and we weren’t ready to accept certain truths.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the smart one between the two of us. I had always been the one explaining all these to you, supporting you.” Her face curved into a wry smile.

“You have been there, and you had been my support. I needed you to be that for me then. But you need me now. I can be strong for you too, the same way you had been for me. It’s because of your strength that I can catch you now when you need it most.”

Hermione dipped her head and touched her lips with his. Harry slipped his tongue to touch hers and she opened her mouth without hesitation. Her tongue reached out to touch his.

Souls thrust too early into reality met and slowly repaired the scars of duties and expectations with each swipe and caress. Harry gently snaked her hand to cradle her nape, pulling her ever so softly closer.

This was not a result of ideals or blind hope. This was an acceptance between two people who had seen each other through the worst and who had supported both to reach greatness that had saved and touched countless others.

Harry removed his mouth from hers, eliciting a small whimper of protest from Hermione. He moved over her face, placing soft kisses and memorizing each curve, each dip. Hermione closed her eyes from his intense study.

He glided his hand down her side, pausing subtly on the side of her breast. Hermione breathed in sharply and unconsciously leaned her body closer to his, her hand moving up to place gentle pressure on his chest.

Clothes were slowly removed as they bared themselves to each other. No pretenses, no masks – just a man and a woman seeing each other in the most natural way with the bright moonlight chasing away the shadows that had covered imperfections they had hidden from everyone else.

Harry shifted her beneath him, his lips traversing the silken path from her cheek down her neck, caressing the curvature of her collarbone. He swiped his tongue at her pulse point, earning a gasp of pleasure. Each touch was sending a jolt of electricity all through his body.

He pulled back a little as he moved down and raised his hand to cover her left breast. He met her stare, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he kneaded her flesh. Not breaking eye contact, he lowered his mouth and tasted her. Her back arched, her hand coming up to grasp his head, pushing herself closer. Harry laved her breast lovingly, sucking gently, circling his tongue around the hardened peak. He repeated his actions to her other breast, his other hand coming up to replace his ministrations.

His free hand travelled soothingly down, down to her point of passion. He groaned when his fingers met her wet heat, her moan increasing in volume as he spread her juices around her folds.

“Harry.”

He inserted a finger inside her and mentally repressed the urge for release as her inner muscles clamped on him. His thumb stroked her nub as he added another digit, moving faster as her hips moved against his hand. Her breaths were coming in faster. Harry raised his head to watch her reach her peak, a glorious moan escaping her lips as her body bowed to the pleasure.

Her eyes opened to meet his. “Please.” Her right hand grabbed his head down to kiss him hungrily. Her left moved to his waist and urged him to move in between her legs.

Hermione opened herself to feel him positioned at her entrance. She grabbed his buttocks as she goaded him forward. Their eyes met as he slowly pushed into her, each letting out a small groan as he finally filled her fully.

Harry moved and Hermione met him thrust for thrust; their eyes never leaving each other. Neither made any loud sounds; save for small moans of ecstasy at the feeling of finally coming home to each other. It was almost silent, as deep and personal as the looks they had exchanged over the years of their childhood.

As they both felt the end coming near, they broke their stare for their mouths to meet. Their tongues tangling as their bodies reached a culmination borne from years of shared history. Neither was aware of anything beyond the feel of the other’s body sharing their own.

Collapsing together, Hermione snuggled on Harry’s chest, his arms enveloping her as if to protect her from the outside world that had demanded too much too soon.

****************

It was with the sun peeking on the horizon that Harry was awakened by a small whimper. Waking up with all his senses alert, he looked down on Hermione’s face to find it scrunched in an expression of remembered pain.

“Mum, no, please, it’s not her fault. Flint, no!” Her shoulder twitched as if her hands were still bound behind her.

Harry quickly gathered her in his arms, shaking her gently awake. “Hermione,” He whispered as he stroked her hair. “Hermione, wake up, it’s just a dream, Love.”

She jerked away from his arms, snapping into consciousness but he maintained his hold on her. Her glazed eyes cleared as she woke fully from her nightmare. Once she registered that it was Harry holding her, she grabbed him and buried her head in his chest.

She let out an angry sob. “Why isn’t it going away? You’re here with me. I’m so sorry, Harry. I’ve become such an emotional wreck!” She ranted, disgusted by her weakness.

“It’s not going to go away just like that, Love. We all need time to heal.” He said soothingly into her hair, inhaling her unique scent. “What matters is that I’m here to be with you as you go through this.”

She fell silent. “I feel so lost, Harry. I can’t believe I didn’t know, or even suspected. I can’t imagine how it must have been for you to live through this over and over again.” She looked gently at him. She raised her hand lovingly, to brush his hair from his forehead. “You’ve been so strong. I can’t imagine how you do it.”

Harry cradled her cheek. “I didn’t do it alone. Whether I realized it or not, I had always come to you. You and Ron, you both were my strength. But you, only with you was I allowed to be weak. You allowed me to have fears, you allowed me to have dreams. You allowed me to be me.”

She looked at him with saddened eyes. “I’m not this mythical girl you’re talking about, Harry. I’m just me.”

“I know.” He kissed her softly and gave her a gentle half-smile. “You’re bossy. A terrible nag, sometimes. You need to be right almost all the time, you demand perfection from everyone and you’ve been known to be impatient with people who do not see things the same way as you do.”

He lifted up her hands to his lips. “But you’re the most loyal person I’ve ever known. You have a lot of fears and yet you’ve faced each and everyone with me because you believed what we were doing was right. That is true bravery for me.” His lips showered her face again with gentle kisses. “You’re the most brilliant person I know, you could do anything you want. And yet you choose to use your intelligence to crusade for beings that are treated unfairly and cannot fight for themselves. You’re eyes light up when you learn something new, but they sparkle even more when you see a person you love happy. You’ve worked so hard to make the world a better place and yet all you ask for in return is to create a life with someone who would accept you for you.”

Her eyes softened as she listened to his words. “When did you become so wonderfully eloquent?”

He gave a soft laugh. “Only with you, Love. I’m still the same bumbling Harry you met at the Express.” He smiled at her. “But you, you make me feel like I’m so free. I can say what I want and won’t be judged and analyzed for each syllable I say.”

He gathered her in his arms. “Besides, you need to hear the words you usually can just see in my eyes.” He placed a soft kiss on her head. “And I can be that for you; with you. Though maybe not all the time” He looked down at her and gave her a wink. “I do have my moments.”

Hermione reached up and touch her lips caressingly on his own. “I love you.” She said softly.

“And I love you.”

Unable to go back to sleep, they watched silently as the sun rise. Hermione’s head was cradled in the nook of Harry’s neck, one hand on his chest, the other wrapped around his waist. Harry just held her, just letting his presence soothe her tired soul as they greet a new day together.

Disclaimers: Please see Chapter 1

A/N: Well, like I’ve said, it’s been a great journey. Just to be sure, if you’re reading this and you haven’t read Chapter 5 (Ever the Same), please go back and read that first. My extreme appreciation to all those who’ve reviewed. Thanks again to The_Scribbler for the excellent beta work.

A/N: By the way, I had entered this in the Elderwand Competition in a brief moment of insanity. If you have time, please log in and rate it. Thanks!

Epilogue – And Now You’re Mine

And now you’re mine. Rest with your dream in my

dream.

Love and pain and work should all sleep, now.

The night turns on its invisible wheels,

And you are pure beside me as a sleeping amber.

No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams. You will go,

we will go together, over the waters of time.

No one else will travel though the shadows with me,

only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.

Your hands have already opened their delicate fists

and let their soft drifting signs drop away;

your eyes closed like two gray wings, and I move

after, following the folding water you carry, that carries

me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.

Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.

- Pablo Neruda, And Now You’re Mine (Love Sonnet LXXXI) as read by Andy Garcia and Julia Roberts from the Il Postino (The Postman) soundtrack.

In every relationship one goes through, there are days that stand out more than most. For whatever reason, be it of extreme sadness or unexpected happiness, we remember those days. Each sunrise or sunset, a memory of a scent, a smile or tear - they become the pieces that create the colorful mosaic of our lives; each piece different from the others and yet needed all together for the work of art to be completed and make sense.

*******************************

31^st December 2008

Harry Potter is finally at peace.

It was a quiet Sunday morning, and he was lying in bed, naked, watching a peacefully sleeping Hermione Granger. She was sleeping on her stomach facing him, her wild hair gloriously spread out on her pillow like cinnamon flames. Her left hand was stretched out to him, a soft smile on her lips. The sheet had dropped halfway down her back, exposing her lightly tanned skin, and telling of her nude state.

He watched her contentedly, not believing that she was in his bed, her even breathing calming his soul.

He couldn’t believe it had been three years. Three years since they broke down holding each other in the middle of the cemetery. Three years since they had first admitted they loved each other.

A finger traced her lovely profile. The three years they had spent together had not been easy. Burdened by invisible wounds, they had to confront the lowest moments of themselves. However, as they had promised to each other that night, they did not do it alone. For every remembered pain and ghastly memory, the other had been there to hold their hand.

Hermione had moved back six months after they had gotten together. She had wanted to move back right away but her boss wouldn’t let her and it took her six months to get him to let her go. Those six months had been spent apparating back and forth Paris and London, resulting in many haggard hours for the two of them. The mirrors, though, were an immense help during those times when miles had separated them.

They had moved in together once she completed her transfer. It had been quite an adjustment then, little quarrels spouting here and there. Little spats between a couple creating a normal life between them; Harry had loved every single minute of it, not to mention the making up afterwards.

They never did have the explosive rows Hermione had with Ron, a fact which she had been entirely grateful. Their fights were quieter and usually a lot more complicated than at first glance - befitting of their deep natures and intense personalities. For some reason though, they never even contemplated breaking up even when they were maddest at each other. They’ve always managed to hold back, their instinct to protect the other superseding their anger and annoyance.

It had been a marvelous three years, difficulties and adjustments all, in Harry’s opinion. Sharing their lives had been second nature, something that they had been doing their whole lives. They usually spent their time watching films or, if Hermione nagged or bribed him enough, catching a play at one of the West End theaters. They loved to go to muggle grocery stores together, laughingly debating the values of nutrition versus taste.

It had surprised them that most of their friends seemed to have accepted their relationship so easily. It was inevitable, they had told them. Apparently, they were the last ones to see what everyone had known all along.

Ron had also been heartwarmingly accepting of them. He had cornered Harry, one time that they went out to dinner. He said that though he never realized it at the time, it had always been at the back of his mind that what he had with Hermione weren’t meant to last. They had no idea then what they had been doing, how to adjust to each other. Eventually, their differences wore them down. He told Harry that he was glad Hermione found him finally. She needed someone who understood her, not someone who riled her up at every opportunity.

Ron had been instrumental in repairing the awkwardness their relationship had generated with the Weasleys. Though the Weasley kids had been accepting of them, Mrs. Weasley had not. Mr. Weasley, though he was not outwardly disapproving of them, had been noticeably distant. This had resulted in a drop of their attendance in the Weasley Sunday lunches. It was at one such lunch, that they had attended because of George’s and Ron’s insistence, that Mrs. Weasley’s attitude was too much on Ron.

She had placed Charlie in the middle of Harry and Hermione then, with Ron seated on Hermione’s right and Ginny at Harry’s left. They had been too polite to say anything and just looked at each other, passing the message that they’d leave early after eating. Ron, however, had fumed. And when his mother had obviously made a comment on the strangely silent Ginny’s appearance to Harry, Ron had enough. He told his mother that it was their lives, their decisions to make and though she had the right to tell them how she felt, she had no right to force her preferences on them. A shouting match previously unheard of in the Weasley household commenced as Mr. Weasley tried to comfort his wife while berating Ron for his ‘disrespect’. Bill, George, and Percy had been on Ron’s side, though they tried real hard not to raise their voices, they told their parents of the same woes they had. Fleur desperately tried to calm everybody down while Ginny had just disappeared mysteriously.

In the midst of the family chaos, Harry had gently wrapped Hermione in his arms and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She gave him a smile, his smile. Then she wrote a note to the Weasleys, saying they had to go, and they disapparated back to their flat.

It had been awhile before went back to the Burrow, even when Mrs. Weasley had owled her apology, profusely saying how sorry she was and how she asked for their understanding as she had just been trying to protect her children. They just looked at the note and sighed. They did go back because of the other Weasley’s insistence. But it had taken awhile before words said in anger had been forgotten between them.

Time does heal wounds though. Though they both still had the odd nightmares, something they suspected might not ever go away, the instances had lessened considerably. The presence of the other beside them at night was a big factor, they knew.

For three years, they had built a life that was solely theirs. They shared smiles, fears, their dreams.

Harry lovingly traced the oval cushion cut three carat diamond on the ring finger of her left hand. Set simply in platinum, he thought it reflected the woman who had always occupied his dreams. Simple, elegant, forged by the harshest forces of nature to become the most beautiful and dazzling person in his life; She has been and will be the only one there beside him.

Harry moved his hand underneath hers and her fingers instinctively interlocked with his. He brushed his thumb again over the ring he had given her not even three hours before. He reached up to brush a soft kiss on her lips, smiling at how she moved to press hers against his even in her sleep. He laid his head back on his pillow, watching her foray into the dreaming contentedly.

All was well.