Chapter 29 - The Memory
At the East London General Hospital Emergency Room, a badly beaten participant of an early morning bar fight occupied Trauma Room 6. The patient screamed like a girl when the doctor reduced his nasal bone fracture, swore like a sailor every time his broken rib cage moved and cried like a baby as the intern anaesthetized the part of his face just below his right eyebrow where he needed stitches.
As Ritchie momentarily removed an ice pack off his bruised left eye, he pondered whether or not he should have anticipated that while Harry, a being of outstanding moral fibre, would unlikely use magic to reciprocate childish behaviour, he was not beyond participating in a brawl. How was he supposed to know that in Harry's two years of absence, he had taken up kickboxing in his spare time? And, judging from his skill, he must have had a lot of time to spare.
It was a nice, clean fight and while he had landed as much as he received and caused a fair amount of damage on Harry, Harry did win the fight fair and square. Ritchie looked worse only after Harry performed first aid magic on himself. He begrudgingly accepted Harry's offer of a truce, declined Harry's suggestion to fix him up after seeing the job he did on himself, but wisely accepted Harry's offer to drop him off the nearest ER. They agreed that, for both their sakes, Jane should not know the truth about how they sustained their injuries.
Maybe having a packed nose and breathing through his mouth for four weeks will finally teach him not to be such a sore loser.
While awaiting final clearance from the medical staff, he closed his eyes and his thoughts wandered back to that morning Jane finally told him about Harry Potter.
"Please don't cry, Jane," he pleaded with her, not desiring to join her tearful display. "It's obvious what that means and I understand. You have to do this, for yourself."
They were in agreement that she had to find out if Harry felt the same way about her.
"I'm so sorry," she repeated earnestly. "I didn't think he was ever going to come back. And I was hoping he would just leave again."
Ritchie did not share with her that he was wishing Harry would leave too and maybe, tell her he wasn't interested, so she could finally be with him, body, mind and soul.
"I'll be around if you need me, you know that," he struggled to keep his composure, "I meant what I said. I have no regrets."
They hugged and as he stroke her hair to reassure her that he was fine, he fought off a desperate desire to kiss her and make love to her, not wanting to have this moment's memory tarnished with a rejection or have her do it out of pity.
"When are you telling him?" he asked her.
"I was thinking never. Or, at least, not in this lifetime," she replied.
"He has to know."
"He doesn't. It's in the past. It has nothing to do with us now."
Ritchie wanted her to tell Harry, so he could be less involved and not be part of the reason he could not be with her. But it seemed that Ron was right; she had thought about it and had already decided. He had to talk her into it. He was sensible enough to realize that if it didn't work out as she hoped, it was preferable that there would be no possibility of it haunting her in the future.
"Remember how you refused to talk about Harry thinking he was in the past? The past will come around; it always does. The conversation will be easier now when you don't need to talk about it and harder when you have to."
Jane told him why she couldn't tell him, trying to get him to see it her way, "If it were about something else I would tell him in a heartbeat; just not this one. Am I asking for too much? Do you think it's unreasonable to want what I want?"
He shook his head and replied, "I don't think what you want is unreasonable, but then I know what it's about and I know why you're doing this. He doesn't. You're taking a big risk. He will think this is about something else. In fact, he already does. As much as I would love for it to be true, you really should stop letting him think you gave up magic for me."
"But I need to know."
"Who doesn't?"
"If I tell him now, I won't ever know, not for the rest of my life. I don't want that."
"Just find another way. Think about what you could lose if you don't tell him. He'll feel you don't trust him or don't love him enough, or both. This uncertainty will eat him up and he'll ask himself if it's all worth it to be with someone who doesn't trust or love him enough."
"If it gets to that then he doesn't really want to be with me."
"Or, if he really loves you and believes that, he might just let you go, like the last time."
Jane shook her head.
"If you don't tell him, just be prepared for him to think the same about you, that you don't really want to be with him. He'll ask, how can you love him and choose not to tell him about this, or any part of your life. Do you think he can believe that your keeping something from him is not a measure of how much you love him?"
She remained unconvinced, "Just promise me you won't tell him."
He did promise her knowing that if Harry deserved to know, he didn't have to be the one to tell him.
Jane would not give details about what transpired after she and Harry left the bookstore, but whatever did happen broke her again and she would not talk about it, at least not to him. He thought that what he thought would happen did happen. Unfortunately, he still had to sort Harry out himself, see if he was truly unworthy of Ron's memory as the night with Jane implied. He was about to call him when Harry did the same thing.
They met, they talked and he had to give Harry the phial.
He gave Harry the phial. He gave Harry the phial?! He was such an idiot! How could he give Harry the one thing that would make him want to stay with her forever! He looked at the broken man crying and staring back at him from the reflection on one of the glass storage cabinets.
At two o'clock in the morning, the peace and quiet surrounding the East London General Hospital was disrupted by loud screams and wailing from inside Trauma Room 6, where an about-to-be-discharged patient was apparently having a very bad anaesthetic reaction.
XXXXXXXXXX
At the safe house, Hermione was on the verge of tears as she lifted the phial closer to read what was written on it. It was a date, five months ago. She had a good idea what the swirling silvery material was a memory of.
"Ron's," she couldn't really blame him for doing this without her knowledge but it was her memory to share, not his.
Harry nodded, "I'm guessing it's about what we can't talk about."
"You haven't seen it," it wasn't a question. Hermione had no doubt in her mind that he had not, not only from what he just said, but also from how he was acting. She was overwhelmed by his gesture she couldn't hold back anymore. Tears started to trickle down both her cheeks.
"I stared at it for quite some time before coming over. I admit, it was very tempting, is very tempting. Why do you think I'm giving it to you?" he gave her a weak grin.
Hermione could only think of what it meant to him, what he was giving up in exchange for their second chance. She was laughing and crying openly at the same time. Harry was trying to wipe her tears away and failing at the task. Recognizing that they were ones of joy, he didn't tell her to stop.
"I love you. I want to be with you. I hope you're finally convinced of that," Harry said as the tears started to subside.
"Completely," she replied, and recognizing a definite qualified moment, did not let another one pass, "I love you, too, Harry."
Harry was beaming, his eyes sparkling from what she could only describe as pure bliss. She felt the same way.
"I heard you the first time."
Time stopped at the exact moment their lips found each other. She returned his kiss, full of love, hope and promise, his soft mouth wiping away any uncertainly of how much he loved her. Their bodies embraced and moulded, his encasing hers with a warmth and protection she had never known from anyone else. A million butterflies fluttered within her! She loved this man she was kissing, and she knew he loved her back. Finally, she had no doubts whatsoever about how Harry felt about her.
After what seemed like an eternity, their kiss ended. Her face and his now damp from her tears, he continued to hold her close to him as they basked in the rays of euphoria that exuded from within them. She could not think of a better place to be at that moment.
"You heard me?"
She didn't think it was possible considering how eye contact was an essential in Legiventroliqy.
"You really shouldn't say something like that and not expect me to save your life," he was teasing.
"I'll keep that in mind. But that was the least you could do after screwing up my Patronus," she teased back.
She caught a glimpse of the phial she still clasped tightly in her right hand. It obviously just came into his possession, likely from the same person his face ran into. She realized it was Harry who had rang Ritchie as he was leaving, the person he was meeting at the Screeching Moon. She was curious what that was about.
Harry must have seen her looking at it.
"Ritchie was keeping it for Ron. For the most part, you're right about him being a decent guy," he said, confirming her suspicions.
"Plotting with Ron to give you this hardly qualifies as decent behaviour," she didn't really know how else to answer, not wanting to add to Harry's insecurity about Ritchie.
Her ex-boyfriends' conspiracy was totally unexpected though both had expressed their disagreement with her desire to keep Harry uninformed. Ron asked her once, hypothetically, whether or not she would let Harry know if he ever came back. Ron backed off after she answered him with an immediate and definite 'no'.
The conversation with Ritchie wasn't so easy because it no longer was hypothetical. Ritchie probably had the phial for a few days at least. No wonder he was not surprised when she told him; he was expecting it to happen and likely knew it was going to happen even before she decided.
It had to be difficult for him to do what he did. She never meant for him to get hurt and her expression betrayed her regret.
"Are you sure about giving him up for me?" Harry asked, seriously.
All night that was what she was hearing from him; an underlying doubt of her intent to be with him. As much as Harry loved her, he was uncertain about how much she loved him.
Hermione was well aware of the possible repercussions of his acceptance of her request. In essence she had asked him to take a leap of faith, or more graphically, to jump off an airplane without a parachute or a wand, and know in his heart she would not let him down. He could have conceivably thought that her request was unreasonable, and that the act itself showed how little she cared about him. After all, if she truly loved him, shouldn't she tell him everything?
And yet despite that uncertainty, Harry wanted to be with her.
"Isn't the fact that Ritchie and I broke up enough to tell you I want to be with you and not him?"
Harry told her what he told Ritchie.
"I've seen you with him through Ron's memories. I just don't get it why you would give up all that you have with him for me when as you said, we've only had that one night."
"Why do you think I'm doing this?" she asked him.
"I'm not sure, but I do hope you're doing it for us or at least yourself. You've taken up more lost causes than anyone I know; Buckbeak, the House-elves, me after Ginny, staying with Ron longer than you should have. Ever since I've known you, you've always been there for me, looking after my best interests. I can't help but wonder if you're doing this just to make me happy and to save what remains of the close friendship we once had."
Hermione listened and observed Harry as he talked. Experience taught her that actions spoke louder than words, and also had the potential to speak louder untruths. Two years ago, she heard him say that he loved her and hoped that it was true, but she finally discarded the notion after months of waiting for an owl and for him to come back. She could tell him again and again that she loved him, even tell him that she never loved Ritchie, but the words would always be overpowered by his perception of her actions. And they were old enough to realize that their physical attraction for one another could exist even without love, so, just because they found each other desirable didn't prove anything. How else could he know, indisputably, that she loved him more than she loved Ritchie?
What Harry did not know was that he just gave her the one thing that could erase his worries about how she felt about him.
It would be cruel and unfair not to assuage his doubts about why she chose to be with him. After all, though she did not demand for proof that he truly loved her, he had given her that by not only agreeing to her request to not talk about what happened, but more so by giving her Ron's memory without looking at it.
She now recognized the folly of believing that he didn't have to know. If she didn't tell him they would not have a chance.
He's done his part. It's your turn. He has to know, to make it work.
What about after, if it still doesn't work out?
Then you have to be prepared to be the one to let go.
They needed a pensieve, but pensieves were made from materials with magical properties it was a theoretical improbability to conjure one. Harry's was likely in his study; she would rather not show him there considering she still could not disapparate on her own. She could not assume everything would go well after he found out and there was a small chance Harry would be very upset that she had even considered not telling him.
Hermione pulled up another chair, sat and asked Harry to sit across from her.
"What are we doing?"
"I'm showing you Ron's memory."
Astonished at first, he asked, "Why?"
She clearly explained why, "I love you; I don't love Ritchie. That's why I want to be with you, not him. I don't want you to ever doubt that," then seeing his puzzled expression, added, "It will make more sense once you've seen it."
"Are you sure about this?"
She nodded as she uncorked the phial.
"We don't have a pensieve."
"Sure we do," she pulled the silvery material from within the phial using her wand and deposited it into her mind. "You can use me."
Putting someone else's memory into another person was not advisable. She thought better her than Harry, because she shared the memory with Ron and because she would be able to segregate it from hers as she had before, during training. And besides, she wanted to see exactly what Harry was going to.
As the memory played out in her consciousness, the images she saw confirmed her suspicion of what it was about.
"You remember the incantation and the wand motion, right?"
"You want me to read your mind," he wanted to clarify what he was going to do.
"I guess you have to. I don't think I have the energy to push the entire memory to yours."
"You know I've tried but have never been able to do this," he reminded her.
"You've never had a good reason to," she sensed his lack of confidence but always believed he could do anything he set his mind to, "Just try."
"Or, you can just tell me yourself what this is about."
"Honestly, I wouldn't know how to begin. And besides, it's better if you see it from Ron's point of view. His would be more objective," and hopefully less pathetic. Then she said to him again, concentrating on the memory, "Just try. I'm ready when you are."
With that, Harry stared into her eyes, lifted his wand and, with confidence and clarity uttered, "Legilimiens!"
Hermione felt a rush of alertness and knew he was in. She was anxious, to say the least. In her heart she knew it was the right thing to do but still, there was overwhelming apprehension that if this act of sharing the memory with Harry were a mistake, there would be no undoing it. There would be no turning back. What consoled her was the knowledge that his intention to be with her, at least right now, wasn't because of it. She was content with that.
Seated across from her, Harry experienced the same sensation, not quite as he expected it would feel. Her mind was such a warmer and personal space; it was more comfortable that being in a pensieve. The images were more vivid though he was not part of the memory but a mere observant, like watching the scene unfold but through Ron's eyes.
Hermione's gesture was a definite surprise. He had indeed hoped that she would eventually change her mind but was stunned it would happen this soon. He was glad, because he was eager, very eager to find out what it was about.
Harry saw an image of her apartment office, and he, actually Ron, was perusing a Daily Prophet article. The blinds were somewhat drawn in to block off the intense light from the sun and the clock on the wall showed one o'clock. Reading the Headline, it said:
VOLDEMORT'S WAND MISSING!
"Unspeakables are idiots!" Ron exclaimed just as Hermione came in, popped a pill in her mouth and chased it with a sip of coffee from the cup in her hand.
"What did we do wrong this time?" she asked as she sat beside Ron.
Harry looked at her more closely and noticed deep indentations under her tired and lacklustre eyes. He searched for a word to best describe her and all he could come up with was 'defeated'. She sounded exhausted, too.
"You lost Voldemort's wand," Ron said dryly, pointing out the Prophet headline.
She squinted, read the article with Ron and Harry, who noticed Lowes' name mentioned a few times.
Hermione said blandly, "You're right, we're idiots."
"You realize you're pulling me away from this investigation," Harry imagined he was faking a pout, trying to make her feel guilty.
"Be thankful. I'm really saving you from taking part in a colossal waste of Ministry resources," she replied in the same monotone voice. "Who cares if some lowlife wants a souvenir? A wand is a wand. It's only as good, or in the case, as bad as it's owner. There's nothing more evil about that wand compared to yours."
Ron put away the paper and confronted her, "Okay, if you can call your colleagues idiots and say something like that with a straight face then something's definitely wrong. Do you want to talk about it?"
"I'm fine. I'm just in a persistent down and caustic mood. I haven't been sleeping well lately."
"Any moron can see that," Ron answered.
"And today, a splitting headache. Why don't we skip today so you can join the merry hunt for the wand? I won't be good company."
"Now you have my full attention. Haven't you learned by now that telling me to go away makes me want to stay even more?" Ron's joke didn't even break a grin on her face. "If you don't tell me, you know I'll stick around and annoy you all day."
"Ron, please, I am not going to waste time arguing with you."
"Then don't," Ron moved closer to Hermione, "Ginny is quite worried, and frankly, so am I. Are you avoiding her? She's starting to think she did something wrong."
"Tell her she hasn't."
He saw her shut her eyes momentarily as if willing Ron to disappear, or at least stop talking. As when he asked her last night, she didn't deny the fact that she was avoiding Ginny.
"Why can't you sleep?"
"There's a pea under my mattress," she said in jest, rubbing her temples with her fingers.
Ron was apparently used to this evasive conversational style that she had taken a liking to after he left.
"Is this about him, again? Because I thought we were done with that months ago."
Should he assume by 'him', Ron meant him?
"No, it isn't," she answered rather quickly then added, "Actually, yes it is…well, not really, but related…"
Ron heaved a sigh of impatience and interrupted, "Blimey, no wonder you're losing sleep. You can't even decide if it's about Harry or not."
Harry was grateful to Ron for clearing that up.
Ron paused and when she didn't say anything, continued, "We can play this Muggle game where you tell me how many words there are, draw clues and let me guess what this is about. Or we can do it our usual way; let me take wild guesses and you can tell me yea or nay."
She looked at him seriously and finally relented, telling him, "I'm leaving the Ministry."
That obviously surprised Ron it left him dumbfounded for a few seconds. So, she had decided to do this months ago, even before Ritchie was in the picture.
"No, you're not. You've always wanted to work for the Ministry. The Ministry is your life."
In Harry's opinion, Ron's assessment was accurate. That was her dream job and she never even talked to them about the possibility of doing anything else.
"It's not my life, at least not anymore," she replied with melancholy in her eyes.
Ron's eyes widened, "You've been convinced to go into Industry for more galleons!"
Harry at least knew it was highly improbable that Hermione would work for Industry because it stood for a lot of things she disliked, especially not for more gold.
She shook her head, "No, Ron. Really, I'm not going into Industry,"
"If not the Industry, then where?"
"I really don't know yet. I was thinking of taking a trip, maybe to Africa, where no one knows me. Stay there, never come back."
There's a shocker. She said it in a flippant manner Harry couldn't tell whether she was serious or not. While their defeat of Voldemort did make her and Ron famous, too, she never gave him the impression that it bothered her. Was that what she wanted? Anonymity?
"You're off your rocker!"
Hermione was somewhat enjoying the torment Ron was going through, "And why is that news to you?"
"Sleep deprivation is driving you more insane! Tell me you've at least seen a Healer."
"I saw three in the last two weeks. They couldn't find anything that they could cure. I even saw my Muggle doctor and she said aside from a mild case of depression, which apparently is more common than we think, I'm as fit as a fiddle."
"But why are you leaving?"
"My job, I can't do it anymore."
Harry wondered what about her work she couldn't do anymore. Thinking back two years ago, she had a few legitimate concerns; foremost was how senior Unspeakables generally were left on their own with minimal accountability. There was also the politics. She never could stand the politics.
"You're burnt out. Eighty-hour workweeks have finally caught up with you. I told you this past year you've been working too hard. You just need some time off."
"I have been off for a couple of weeks, remember, I just got back this week, and with Lumos being mostly research and theory, I haven't been doing much for the past six months."
"Give it time," Ron suggested. "It might get better."
"No it won't," then she emphasized a point, "I'm not asking for advice Ron. I'm telling you, I'm doing this."
Harry realized, as Ron just had, she had decided and there was no changing her mind.
"First Harry, then you. I can't believe this is happening, " Ron grew silent, "So, this is what's keeping you awake at night? What does it have to do with Harry, aside from the fact that you're about to do the same dreadful thing he did?"
Hermione hesitated, seemingly trying to choose how to tell Ron, "I was hoping I would never have to have this particular conversation with you, at least not until we're grey, forgetful and hopefully more forgiving, but seeing that you're my best friend and I need you to understand why I have to leave, I have no choice. I know this will hurt you and you have every right to get upset. I just want you to know I'm really sorry…it's about Harry and me."
Harry felt Ron's jaw tighten, his demeanor unusually serious.
"Do you remember that night we officially broke up?"
"Of course I remember. You told me you've had the hots for Harry since Hogwarts and you wanted me to let go to see if he felt the same. It was one of the worst nights of my life."
Harry remembered too, the night he spied on them and thought she was going to marry Ron. He guessed Hermione was about to tell Ron about their night together. His pulse quickened and the rest of him reacted as if he was there that day telling Ron himself.
"I kind of left out a few details."
"Go on…"
Hermione took a deep breath and spoke deliberately, "On the night you graduated from Auror Academy, we had a fight and I had a bit more firewhiskey than I was accustomed to. On Ginny's insistence Harry took me home and I invited him up to my apartment."
She took Ron's hand and held it. "He spent the night…in my bedroom…on my bed… with me…both of us…naked…"
Hermione choked on the last few words. She couldn't hold back her tears, as she was likely witnessing Ron cry. Harry could imagine how much it hurt Ron to hear that and how much it hurt Hermione knowing that she broke Ron's heart all over again. Ron attempted to pull away but Hermione held on to his hands tight until he stopped.
Ron didn't look at her and his gaze settled on the two pairs of hands in front of him, "Bloody traitor! He was my best friend, he was like a brother to me, how could he cross the line!"
He was right. Harry may have loved Hermione but that was not an excuse.
"It wasn't his fault, Ron. He wouldn't have had I not made the first move. He tried to stop us but I convinced him. You should blame me..." she was interrupted, her attempts to point out mitigating circumstances falling on deaf ears.
"Stop defending him! You, I can understand, but he didn't know about us. I know, because he wouldn't have left had he known!"
Harry knew what Ron meant. He was less of a traitor had he known, though to Harry, a traitor nonetheless.
"I don't know about that, but he left because of what we did," she tried to reason with him, "It happened a long time ago; he's gone; you and I, we're not together. It doesn't matter anymore. There is no point to stay angry. It will just eat you up inside for no good reason."
Ron calmed down, resigned and accepting of what Hermione just said. After some time, he spoke, "I can't promise I won't hurt him when I see him. I should have seen this coming. Was he, at least, any good?"
He had a smirk, or at least it felt that way and he said the last sentence with a hint of annoyance. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, Ron didn't really want an answer, "Well I hope it sucked. I hate the guy. I love him, but I hate him. Considering I spent years trying to get you to sleep with me, he does it just like that!"
That was Ron, making jokes when he found himself in uncomfortable situations. No, Ron, it didn't suck. It was amazing.
At least Harry could see Hermione smiling now. They fell silent for a moment, then Ron said to her, wanting confirmation, "I guess that explains why it took you so long to get over the fact that he left. You loved him. I mean more than as a friend. You were really in love with him."
She frowned and couldn't look at Ron, almost embarrassed.
"You still are?"
"Pathetic, isn't it? I realized that night that I wanted to be with him that way for the rest of my life. But I didn't know how he felt about me. That morning, I couldn't wake him to ask. It was a no-win situation. If he said that night was a mistake that would have been death to our friendship. And if he said he wanted to be with me, I would have wondered whether he was just saying that to not hurt my feelings. And there was also how he would feel about betraying you. So I concocted an amnesiac, pretended to drink it and left a glassful for him to take, so he wouldn't have to live with the guilt, hoping to buy time, and give us another chance after I sorted things out with you."
Harry heard this for the first time. They never really talked about that night. At the time he left, Hermione's potion offer to him signified a mistake she wanted to correct and proved that she cared more about Ron than him. Then, after realizing that she never took the potion, he thought it was all about wiping out guilt, to save friendships.
But for Hermione it wasn't entirely about that. She wanted to know how he really felt about her. The potion was all for him, so he wouldn't feel what he felt and do what he did before she could talk to Ron. Hearing this, he understood where Hermione was coming from. He understood but still would have handled it differently, he would have hoped on the slight chance Ron would accept and be happy for them. They would have probably lost Ron, be awkward with the Weasleys, but he would have never willingly parted with that memory.
"So, like you he only pretended to take the potion," Ron concluded, "And he left before you could talk to me."
"I thought, he'd owl or at least get in touch with someone for sure. Then he'd know that you and I had broken up and that it would not be too much of a stretch for him to think we could be together. And I didn't want you seeking him out, so that if he came back it would be because he wanted to. Until recently, I was still waiting for him to come back. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and now it's been more than a year; we still haven't heard from him."
That was just me being a stupid git.
"He's never coming back. And I can only think it's because he chooses not to, that he doesn't want anything to do with his old life anymore. That he had left not only because of guilt that he had betrayed you, but also because he couldn't face me, to tell me that our night was a mistake."
Hearing this, Ron took out from his wallet a piece of old parchment and gave it to her. As she started reading, Harry recognized that it was the note he left Ron two years ago.
"I know it doesn't explain why he's not here, but at least it tells you why he left. It doesn't sound like he thought that night was a mistake."
Not before long, Hermione was crying again, not with sadness but with frustration.
"Why does he do that? Why does he have to do the honourable thing all the time?"
"He does it because that's who he is. Some actually find that quite endearing about him."
"If only he took the potion."
"He never would have taken it. He loved you."
She gave him back the note, "That night, he told me he loved me, too. Maybe it did then but the words mean nothing now. Even if it were true, it doesn't change the fact that he's still not here nineteen months later. A lot can happen in nineteen months. He could be dead, he could be married, he could have kids, he could be with someone else."
"True."
Thanks for the confidence, Ron.
"So, I decided a month ago that I'm done waiting. I'm done. I'm done. I am so done."
Hermione repeated it so many times not for Ron who got the message, but seemingly more for herself. Harry never envisioned she would be in such a conundrum and she really could have waited forever for no one.
"Well, it's about time. Good for you," Ron was being supportive, "And what about this is giving you sleepless nights?"
She replied, "When it finally dawned on me that he wasn't coming back, I just wanted to be able to move on. But at that point he was still everywhere in my life. I've been seeing him in my work, at the apartment, at the Screeching Moon, at Diagon Alley, places where we've been, things that we had done, even in my sleep."
"I didn't mind them before because they helped me wait for him but now that I was done waiting, I wanted the memories to leave me alone. It was proving to be quite a challenge. Then, I started having difficulties. And it's why I can't work for the Ministry. I can't do it anymore."
"What difficulties?" she didn't answer and just looked at him with a pained expression.
"What exactly can't you do anymore?"
Ron still was not clear though Harry had a strong suspicion of what she meant. He could hear his heart pounding in anticipation. How could she think of not letting him know?
Hermione stood up and shocked both Ron and Harry as she smashed her half filled cup hard on the edge of her desk, breaking it into tiny pieces, coffee leaking out onto the floor next to shards of ceramic.
She took out her wand and pointed it at the broken cup in her hand.
"Reparo!"
Harry had seen her do this countless times, it took a second or so to realize that something was amiss. The broken cup pieces remained where they fell! Nothing happened!
She let the cup go and then aimed for the spillage, her eyes filled with frustration and brimming with tears…
"Evanesco!"
Same result. She directed her wand at Ron who, on instinct, jumped back.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Ron was immobile and seeing him through Hermione's eyes Harry saw he had a plastered surprised and horrified look on his face, despite the fact that the jinx didn't work.
Hermione was weeping without inhibition at this point. She rattled off several other non-complex spells throughout her office until finally Ron had come to his senses, took her wand and held her in his arms as she sobbed.
She had lost her ability to do magic!
Harry felt faint as the entire room spun around him like a merry-go-round out of control!
At that point, the image of Hermione with Ron faded. Harry's mind rejoined his present self, seated across from her and staring in disbelief at a composed but somewhat concerned current Hermione. He barely noticed that he had tears in his eyes. Why couldn't she tell him about this?
"I never gave up magic, Harry," Hermione said to him. "Magic gave up on me."