Disclaimer : We all know - thanks to JK Rowling!
Chapter 18. The Secrets and Lies of Hermione Jane
The doors to the study mercifully opened. Harry and Hermione turned away from each other as Ritchie brought in a tray of sandwiches and drinks.
"The power company says it must have been just a power fluctuation. Catching up on old times, were you?" Ritchie said as he set the tray on one the desks near Hermione.
Harry answered, considerably calmer than he was just a few seconds ago, "Yeah, we were. It's amazing how so much can change in two years."
Hermione whispered something in Ritchie's ear and left the room.
Ritchie said to Harry, "Get started with the sandwiches, we'll be right back," he then shut the door behind him.
Harry could hear their muffled voices from just outside the door. They were arguing. "This is interesting," he thought as he walked closer. He could not help wanting to eavesdrop.
Hermione said, "I'm serious, Ritchie. Stop pushing his buttons."
"How do you know for sure I'm doing that?" Ritchie tried to deny Hermione's accusation.
"Because I know Ron told you what most books wouldn't know about Harry, including his inability to control his temper and his insatiable curiosity. Richard, I'm serious!"
A smirk formed on Harry's mouth. He was hoping Ritchie would even try so it would get more interesting.
"Okay, maybe I am doing that just a little bit. It's so much fun watching him lose his temper but that last one was totally rich, I had nothing to do with that."
Prick.
"Look, I expect you to be nice and be civil. I need both of you to work together to catch the Cardinal so set aside whatever differences and prejudices you have against him. He's really a nice guy once you get to know him," Harry heard Hermione say.
Ritchie answered, "Considering how this is the first time you've ever talked to me about him, I find it disturbing how you're defending him."
"I'm not defending him."
That sounded familiar. Harry finally realized she was not really defending either of them. She was just trying to give them a better chance of having a conversation in the same room without having to bite each other's head off.
An unidentifiable buzzing sound replaced the conversation and Harry knew that Hermione had something to do with that. Hermione was right; Harry had to be nice and civil too, regardless of how he thought about Ritchie. They did have to work together.
He walked around the study to keep busy and maybe pick-up on what kind of person this boyfriend of hers was. Several school awards and trophies for football. There were a few pictures of his parents who Harry thought he seemed not to take after. There were some of him and Hermione as well. Ouch.
Harry gravitated to the tray of sandwiches and suddenly felt hungry. As he picked up one he noticed Muggle post on the same table. They were sorted into three neat compartments; outgoing and one each for Richard and 'Jane'. It appeared, much to Harry's dismay, that Hermione's life was now so entwined with Ritchie's to the point of even having her post delivered to his house. Despite what just happened at her apartment, Harry wondered if he was too late.
Muggle Post. Why would Hermione get Muggle Post?
Looking back at the still closed sliding doors, he quickly sifted through the mail in Hermione's tray.
His heart raced as he browsed the contents of some of the open letters. There was a phone bill, a credit card statement, a bank statement, pay notices from the nearby University, and an acceptance letter to the University Research Associate Program indicating that classes were to start next fall. It was not hard to come to the conclusion that Hermione had been living a Muggle life. She must really care about Ritchie to sacrifice her magic to be with him, but not enough to prevent her from almost sleeping with Harry?
He quickly shoved the mail back to where he took them from just as the doors to the study opened. It was Ritchie.
"Jane just had to make a quick call to the bookstore," Ritchie explained as he approached Harry.
"Bookstore?"
"Yes," Ritchie countered, "At the University. She's working some hours there and just wanted to confirm she was coming in tomorrow."
That explained the pay notices. So Hermione had a job, at a Muggle bookstore. Harry frowned, "She's a fugitive."
Ritchie laughed, "So I told her. I just spent the last five minutes trying to tell her what that meant, so be my guest trying to talk some sense into her."
Harry just shook his head, "And then some things don't really change."
Ritchie walked closer to him and said, "Listen. She asked me, actually expects me, to be nice and civil to you so we can work together to catch this lunatic. I know you're a hero and she says you're really nice, but if you were either you would not have left her and Ron in the dark about where you were for two years. That was just selfish and cruel. I don't like you so don't expect me to be chummy. But for her I can do nice and civil."
Harry did not expect him to understand; he could not tell him he thought it would have been more cruel to everyone had he stayed or kept in touch. What he thought was right then certainly wasn't right anymore, knowing what he knew now. Ritchie was annoyingly right. Though he didn't mean for it to be, from Ron and Hermione's perspective, it was selfish and cruel for him not to have kept in touch.
Harry offered him a handshake, "Nice and civil it is then."
They shook hands again. Harry felt it was a good opportunity to ask Ritchie something about Hermione while she wasn't around.
"If you don't mind me asking, why do you call her Jane? I mean, it is her middle name but you're the only one I know who calls her that."
"Unfortunately, if I tell you it might be misconstrued as an attempt to make you lose your temper," Ritchie said, but Harry could sense he really wanted to tell the story. Nice and civil was relative after all.
"No, that's okay. Please, indulge me," Harry really wanted to hear it too. It was driving him crazy.
"You know that Jane and I grew up together, right?"
Harry nodded and mentioned hearing about their first meeting during his 9th birthday party. He did not want Ritchie to know all about Ron's memories, yet.
Ritchie continued, "About four years ago, I was coming out of a really bad relationship and she was just starting her training at your Ministry. Our parents took us both on some winter vacation, partly to get us to get to know one another, telling us jokingly we were meant to be because we were 'Dick and Jane'. They made sure we spent a lot of time together. She hated it and I was just too depressed to really care what our folks were trying to do."
"Well, it didn't take three days for me to be smitten," he smiled as he reminisced, "It was just awkward, growing up with her and just suddenly realizing what a wonderful woman she is."
Harry knew exactly what he meant.
"So I started calling her Jane to tease and annoy her," Ritchie chuckled, "She's so amazingly attractive when she's annoyed. To make a long story short, towards the end of the two weeks, we had grown very fond of each other we had to come up with excuses to ditch our parents and be alone. She didn't mind being called Jane anymore so the name stuck."
"Winter four years ago," Harry repeated, recalling now that this was something they talked about when they had dinner with Ron, "So what happened? Why did you break up?"
Ritchie answered, "We wanted to continue seeing each other in London. But when she said she was a witch, waved her wand and made it rain hearts, I freaked out. We broke up. I didn't see her again until she and Ron came to talk with me about the murders two months ago," then giving Harry an accusing look, "You should have seen her then, she was a mess."
Harry didn't appreciate his last comment but didn't say anything. Harry had just confirmed what he suspected since seeing them at the Muggle restaurant in Ron's memory. Hermione had an affair with Ritchie while she was still seeing Ron. That was the reason for Ron's unsavoury remark when he first referred to Ritchie in that second memory that happened two months ago. Ron knew about the affair.
Hermione also had an affair with Harry while she was still seeing Ron. Then tonight, she was willing to do it again him even though she admitted she was seeing Ritchie. Harry wondered how many other times she had affairs; he never really thought she was the type who would have difficulty being faithful. Maybe she just didn't want to be faithful or couldn't be faithful.
And Ritchie ended their relationship four years ago when he found out she was a witch. Was she trying not to scare Ritchie off a second time by giving up magic?
Hermione walked in and muttered, "You're both still standing, that's a good sign."
Harry replied coldly, "Ritchie was just telling me about winter vacation with your parents four years ago."
"You shouldn't be boring Harry with details," she told Ritchie, taking notice that there was something bothering Harry again.
"Actually, it was a good story. Definitely one for the grandkids," their eyes met as Harry looked over to Hermione.
Just then, the phone rang and Ritchie excused himself to answer it. Ritchie's voice droned on in the background as they talked silently.
You and Ron were still going out four years ago.
He was disappointed not to see remorse in her eyes but was more disheartened than irate.
It was long time ago. Don't judge me or look at me like I've done something unforgivable. It's not what you think.
Was your unfaithfulness the reason why you and Ron were having trouble all those years? How could you do that to Ron?
I never cheated, not while I was with Ron. I'm tired, Harry. I don't want to argue with you anymore, at least not tonight.
Despite Hermione's request, Harry couldn't let it go. He needed her to know he was dismayed, not only by what she had done but also with her continuing lies.
I participated in one such instance. Remember? I couldn't look at you and not want you to be unfaithful to him so I left, because that would not only destroy me but, I thought, also ruin you. I was so thick it never crossed my mind that infidelity was nothing new to you. Ron knew about Ritchie. Does Ron know about us?
Ron knew everything about us, which, let me think, was basically that one night.
Harry could tell he got to her. Her reply had a slight tinge of sarcasm.
Ron was a saint to keep on giving you chances. And what about this boyfriend?
What about Ritchie? It won't kill you to say his name.
Why bother knowing his name? This boyfriend might not last once he finds out about all the lies. You have not even told him the truth about us.
Finally, Hermione's frustration exploded.
Get a grip, Harry! Does everybody have to know? Would you want me to take out a full-paged ad in the Prophet announcing that I was foolish enough to sleep with you? I never told Ritchie because I never believed you'd ever come back for it to matter!
Like it doesn't matter that he's oblivious to the fact that you still do magic? Why? Are you afraid he's going to break-up with you again when he finds out that you still practice witchcraft? Affairs, potions, lies. I can only imagine how many other blokes took that potion before me. Tell me something; would you have obliviated me if you knew I didn't take it? Was Viktor the only one lucky enough to have an honest relationship with you?
Satisfied with the pained expression in her face, he broke off eye contact. He loved her with all his heart, and it just hurt him to know that what they had was actually not as special to her as it was to him. It was, for her, their one night of idiocy; one of possibly numerous one-night stands. For the first time they both fell silent and had nothing to say.
Ritchie noticed the eerie strained silence between them when he got back, "Run out of things to say to each other?"
Harry answered plainly, "We were just wondering how Ron must have felt knowing you and Hermione had an affair while he was still seeing her."
"Is this what this is about?" Ritchie sounded irritated, "I guess, Ron, your supposed best friend, never told you the truth and you think Jane cheated on him."
"What truth is he talking about?" Harry asked Hermione, who ignored him.
"It's not important, Ritchie," Hermione tried to dismiss it but without success.
What's not important? Harry's heart was pounding, recalling all the horrible things he believed true about her and just said to her.
"What do you mean it's not important?" Ritchie said to Hermione, "Ron's in a coma and may never get to tell Harry the facts. I think Ron will understand if you break your promise so your friend here will stop thinking you've been unfaithful all this time. If you don't tell him, I will."
What promise? What was it that Ron never told him about?
"It's between Ron and him."
Finally, Harry turned to Ritchie and insisted, "No, tell me why I shouldn't think she was unfaithful."
Ritchie gladly replied, "Jane had been trying to break up with Ron even before you graduated from Hogwarts. She stayed with him to keep appearances until Ron was ready to let everyone know. Of course, Ron never got to the point of being ready. The only other reason Ron said he would let go was if she wanted to be with someone else."
Harry shook his head almost immediately, "No," then he turned to look at Hermione who was ready for him, "Tell me that's not true."
But he knew it was true. It made more sense now, looking back at how things were between Ron and Hermione after Hogwarts. Why didn't he see it when it mattered?
Hermione met his inquiring stare and apologized, "I'm sorry, Harry, I promised Ron I wouldn't tell anyone."
Ritchie was about almost through with being nice and civil, "Why are you apologizing to him? He just accused you of being unfaithful!"
"So how come he knows?" Harry asked pointing at Ritchie.
"'He' has a name and it's not polite to point."
"Ritchie doesn't count," it was as if Ritchie wasn't even talking.
"That's so nice to hear," Ritchie mumbled.
"Ron didn't care if Ritchie knew, but he wasn't ready to let his family know. He wasn't ready to let you know," then talked to him in his head, Ron cared about what you thought of him.
"Ron was in denial that it was over, for a long time, hoping it was just some bad dream. At least that was how he explained it to me," Ritchie offered.
Harry said, "I was his best friend. How could he not tell me?" You should have told me that night. Why didn't you?
Hermione replied, "You'd have to ask him that." I couldn't break a promise. He was your best friend but you didn't tell him how you felt about me, either.
"Ron was too proud to let you know he failed," Ritchie seemed to know a lot about how Ron felt.
"Why did you stay with him?" Harry still could not understand.
"If I didn't, I would have lost the only family I had left."
Ritchie's phone rang again, and he answered it with annoyance, "What? Oh, hi Chief…", he walked away.
I would not have left had I known.
"Now? It's really a bad time, I have guests," Ritchie said over the phone as he watched Harry and Hermione look intently at each other, seeing their anguish and feeling his own pain, "Maybe in a couple of hours."
Do you think I don't know that? At least you didn't have to go on with life knowing what could have been for the past two years.
I'm really sorry for being a jerk. I said all those rotten untrue things about you and you let me do it. If it hadn't been for your…for Ritchie, I would have continued to think you did all those mean things to Ron.
I guess that's one thing you have to thank Ritchie for.
I don't understand. You actually chose to keep a promise and preferred me to continue to think you were unfaithful.
I need all the help I can get to stay faithful.
I'm sorry. I can't help you with that.
I know not to ask.
XXXXXXXXXX
It was late and Dean still wasn't home. He usually said something if he was going to be this late. Ginny wondered if he slipped into his workroom without telling her.
With the kids fast asleep, she slipped on her cloak and walked across their backyard to a modest hovel where Dean had set up his painting studio. She knocked first; there was no answer.
Ginny unlocked the door with a spell and entered. The smell of paint immediately brought her back to the time when she used come by everyday, watching him paint, more like distracting him from painting. She looked over to the futon where the twins were conceived and broke into a nostalgic smile. Then she found herself wondering when she stopped coming to watch him work and why.
She looked at his current work in progress. A young girl with a woman, dressed as a Healer, who she assumed was her mother in a familiar patient waiting area at St. Mungo's. That was his talent. Putting family moments like that on canvass as he had done so many times for his own. Similar paintings of her, and the twins were hung all around the studio. His favourites were inside their house, some he gave to her mom to display at the Burrow.
As she was about to leave, something different caught the corner of her eye. It was another room that wasn't there before. Dean said years ago he wanted a room where clients could come in and pose for him so he wouldn't have to be away from home. Maybe he finally got around to making that happen.
As she walked towards it, she did not know why but her pulse quickened. Something about what she was about to do terrified her. It was locked, of course, thinking, as she unlocked it, that maybe it was to keep the twins out. Stepping into it, she wished she could have been more prepared to see what she saw.
Every imaginable space was covered with pictures of Hermione.
XXXXXXXXXX
It was cold and dark in the closet save for the small amount of light passing through the keyhole. A familiar voice from the living room was pleading, "I beg you, my Lord. The child is my life. Let the child live."
A sinister laugh echoed in their small abode and that would be forever etched in the child's memory. It came from a most odd individual; a man with two faces with a terrifying voice.
"I will let the child live on one condition."
"Anything, my Lord."
In the coldest and most heartless tone one could ever hear, the two-faced man said, "You must die!"
And as the man laughed, he turned the back of his head towards the closet; his snake-like eyes penetrated the tiny slit through which the child was observing from, and an overwhelming wave of horror caused the child to fall back.
Soon after, a flash of green light briefly infiltrated the confines of the closet space. Then there was total silence.
The Cardinal's eyes opened. The vision of that horrible moment used to happen only in dreams. Now, it scorched through the Cardinal's entire being and replaying it was a ritual. It was the best way to focus before each murder, which would be any time now. The Cardinal was about to meet and kill the next victim.