Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer : Harry is JKR's.

Chapter 4. A Most Painful Experience

The week flew by so quickly. Ron was still away on assignment and Harry was swept into rookie doghouse, being dispatched to the most frivolous of all calls. There was a definite increase in crank calls since the Daily Prophet featured him after Auror graduation. Witches and wizards alike wanted to see him in action, even if they had to make something up. He was too pre-occupied with other thoughts to really care.

It was a good thing that he didn't see Ron or knew where he was. He felt rotten and his conscience was constantly commanding him to come completely clean. Harry thought the longer time he had, the better his resolve would be against telling Ron everything that happened.

He wasn't really concerned with what Ron would do to him, because he deserved every bit of it, but more for Hermione's sake. She did not want Ron to know for the obvious reasons. She drank the potion and she would not have any recollection of that night. If they broke up because of something Harry claimed she did with him but she couldn't recall, Harry didn't want to think what would happen beyond her being very furious.

Because of Hermione's request, Harry was on the fence about whether or not he would at least tell Ron how he felt about her. He wanted to tell Ron because that was the right thing to do but was afraid about being pressed for details and not being able to lie convincingly.

What gave Harry hope was the knowledge that Hermione had some feelings for him too and that things didn't seem to be working out between her and Ron. True, he was disappointed that she didn't want to remember their night but he loved her and would wait for that chance to be with her again. That chance would certainly come, it had to.

Intoxicated, he could no longer stop himself from wanting to be with her. He seemed to notice her more frequently around the Ministry that week. Harry saw her on a packed elevator once. She said 'hi' and he smiled and waved back. It was then that he finally had the courage to invite her to have a working lunch with him. He was ecstatic when she accepted.

"How's rookie life so far?" she asked.

They were in the Auror office on the 2nd Level, eating at Harry's desk. Hermione was multi-tasking; carrying on a conversation, reading some documents, and eating a burger at the same time.

"Officially, it's a wonderful learning experience. Truthfully, I could use a Time Turner to the future to get it over with. I spent two hours this morning checking the wands used in the Ghoul Murders that happened, I don't know, how long ago for potential missed evidence."

"Why?"

"It was either that or twiddle my thumbs."

She chuckled, as she scribbled down a few ideas on her pad.

"It's your fault really."

"How do you figure that?"

"If you had not put an end to Voldemort you'll be busier with real cases."

"Or dead."

"Well, you almost did die."

"That would have been a kinder fate," he concluded under his breath.

Without looking up from what she was reading during their entire conversation, Hermione said, "You've been staring at me for quite sometime. Is there anything wrong with how I'm eating this burger?"

"Not that I notice. I was just admiring your impeccable concentration in getting work done."

"Admire away then…" she smiled and playfully threw a piece of grape at him.

His heart almost melted seeing her like that.

"I've been meaning to ask you."

"What is it?"

"That night when I was at your apartment…"

"Yes? What about it?"

"How drunk were you?"

Hermione looked up, gave him her full attention and said matter-of-factly, "I wasn't drunk. I was just tipsy."

"Do you remember what you did that night?"

She shrugged, "Not really."

"So that's how smashed you were."

"We could argue all day but what's your point?"

"That night, I realized how much I missed hanging out with you. We haven't really done that since Hogwarts."

She frowned before answering, "Things change, Harry. We get busy with other things that we don't do together; partly because we're not in Hogwarts anymore."

"Yeah, I know. It's just unfortunate because it doesn't have to be that way," he commented with regret in his voice.

"What are you trying to say, Harry?"

"Well, maybe we should make an effort to spend time with our family and friends."

"Maybe, we should."

She couldn't really disagree and turned her attention back to her work.

The conversation was left at that and the rest of that week they did spend as much time with each other as their other commitments allowed. They spent most of their lunch hours together and during times when they brought work outside of work, they met mostly at the Screeching Moon, or some public place, worked separately but occasionally asked each others' help.

One time, she arrived very late at the Screeching Moon, fuming mad as she sat at his table. She wasn't talking to him but was writing on a parchment quite furiously, he had to ask.

"Who's the Howler for?"

"My boss," she said, her lips were dangerously thin.

"Don't you think sending a Howler to your boss can get you fired?"

"I don't really care if he does; in fact, if he doesn't do anything about Lowes, he might as well fire me!"

Alfred Lowes was her senior supervisor. Hermione said he was an empty headed stupid git who took credit for work he did not do. Harry was guessing, he took another of Hermione's ideas and said it was his.

"You're asking for another supervisor?"

"No, I'm asking to work independently and report directly to him, or I quit."

With that she finished her Howler, sealed it and asked Tom the bartender to have it delivered to James Dorner, the Head of the Department of Mysteries, by their customer service owl right away. She came back to their table with a glass of firewhiskey and she was much calmer.

"What if Dorner says no?" he asked.

"Well, I guess I'll be out of work," she said in an indifferent voice.

She could be so impulsive sometimes. Harry was more concerned for her than she was for herself but she never ceased to amaze him. She probably could get away with it too.

"I can get married and have time for a dozen kids."

Harry thought Ron would like that. Worried, he asked her, "Seriously?"

She was smiling, amused by his concerned look.

"Not to worry, Harry. Dorner will not say no. He may be an asshole but he's not dim-witted."

She was biting into his cold half eaten sandwich and chasing it down with her drink. Hermoine seemed so confident and Harry hoped she was right. True enough, the following day, she got her wish; independence, with her own private office and lab on Level 9; the youngest Unspeakable ever to be granted such a promotion.

Harry felt rekindling their friendship was important to make things right. He was careful not to be too close to her, or allow them to be completely alone. At the moment, he did not have great confidence in his self-control.

Attraction aside, he cherished her close friendship now more than ever. He was constantly comparing how she was now versus how she was during Hogwarts and overall, found a less neurotic, more relaxed Hermione. On occasion he would find something new about her. For instance, until seeing much more of her this past week, he did not realize how much Hermione liked firewhiskey.

Harry was having tea with Ginny the following week. Dean had to be at a meeting about his art exhibit and she dropped by the Auror office, would not take no for an answer. They actually became close friends after they broke up. Harry thought it was probably out of pity for him.

"So tell me, Harry, who is she?"

"What?" Harry thought she was still talking about getting Mr. Weasley a new set of multi-attachment screwdrivers.

"You've been very distracted today. Do I know her because I want to know if she is worthy of all this attention."

"Work," he lied.

"You can't lie even if your life depended on it," she knew him only too well.

"Ginny, after you, no other woman will ever be worthy of my attention."

"Save the bullshit, Harry. Your godchildren may be unborn but they are listening."

He thought, wouldn't saying the word 'bullshit' be more offensive? No, it wasn't worth ticking her off.

"Well, whoever she is I hope she's not anything like the skanks you've been dating lately."

That was definitely another inappropriate word.

"I don't recall ever dating loose women."

"That's debatable. But then again I wouldn't want to recall really bad dates either so I can't say I blame you for wanting to forget!"

Harry laughed with her. He said, "I'll let you know if I actually decide to tell her how I feel."

She sighed in exasperation. "You're such a coward, Harry. I think you will be hard-pressed to find any witch who would not want to have a serious relationship with a hero."

"I'd hate to point this out to you but I'm looking at one."

"What can I say, I was young and stupid," Harry must have imagined that Ginny blushed a bit. "So, did Ron tell you? Tonight's the night, again."

"Really?" Harry felt like his chest was being drilled into, "I didn't know he was back. Haven't seen or spoken to him in ages."

He had hoped to speak with him before Ron saw Hermione but there would be no time to do that.

"Yeah, just last night. And it seems that Hermione might let him, finally."

He looked down; was a stake being nailed into his heart?

"I spoke with her yesterday and it does seem like she's gotten a load off. She's more relaxed and seems happier. Did you talk about Ron at all when you spent the night over?"

"Umm yes, though not in so many words," he chose to tell a bit of the truth but almost choked on his biscuit.

"Well whatever you guys talked about that night it certainly had made her decide what to do. Good one, Harry."

Yeah, that's a good one. He smiled half-heartedly. Ginny began to talk about the pain and hardship her unborn children were causing everyday. Harry could only half listen.

That night, a mousy haired thin man sat on a park bench peering above a Muggle newspaper watching a young couple having dinner inside the restaurant across the street. He could not hear them but could see plenty, more than he wanted to. About half past ten he saw the red haired man take his date's hand and he could almost hear a version of the proposal the man had practiced so many times. He helped pick out the diamond ring that the man was trying to find in his pocket. They embraced. He saw her kiss the man sweetly on his mouth, and he could tell the man kissed her back.

Harry had seen enough. Everything became dark and unfocussed, not even caring that someone could have seen him transform from the mousy haired man to himself. He felt his eyes burn and his chest throb. He could not see where he was going as tears flowed freely from his eyes. He did not even remember Apparating to Number 12 Grimmauld Place,

After that night with her, Harry was sure this would not happen and that was his flaw. He was not prepared to hurt this much to see Hermione chose to spend the rest of her life with someone else, even if he was his best friend.

Hermione was right as usual. Some memories are better off forgotten. It was wise of her to drink that potion but then, she knew what would happen. She probably had decided to marry Ron that night. He should have seen it when she drank the potion; that he never had a chance. She had made a choice.

Tomorrow, he would have to face Ron, Hermione and their family and friends, knowing he had slept with his best friend's future wife and that he would always love her but they would never be rightfully together.

Ron and Hermione deserved to be happy and he was sure that at the moment, he could not pretend to be happy for them. Godric Gryffindor would be rolling in his grave just about now. He betrayed Ron's trust once. He could not promise that he would not attempt to betray it again in an instant, so he could be with her, more so because he knew Hermione was capable of betraying Ron too. That would ruin Ron. That would ruin Hermione.

Wasn't this the finality he had been waiting for so he could move on?

Then he decided. He could not stay, not around them, not for a while. He had to go away and leave the only family he had ever known hoping that in the future, if they found out the truth, they would understand and forgive him. Maybe a few months, just to get away, until he could trust himself not to cross that line again.

He made provisions to ensure Dobby would be fine and left him in charge to keep the Black house maintained. He packed his wand, his broom and a few personal effects. From the bottom of his bedroom drawer, he took out a note from Oliver Wood, his former Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, inviting him to join the professional club Wood was coaching. Harry decided that should be far enough and Wood would make sure he did not have any time for himself to wallow in his depression.

He scribbled notes to the Weasleys and to Remus. He had a perfect reason for wanting to leave, the papers certainly wrote about it when news was on the slow side.

Harry Potter wants normal life away from spotlight.

Harry Potter cannot live up to expectations.

Or something to that effect.

To Ron, he wrote what he did not get a chance to tell him.

Ron,

Harry

To Hermione, he chose his words more carefully.

Hermione,

Love, Harry

He used a late owl service to send them. Then Harry Potter disappeared into the night.