A/N - not so many hits for the last chapter, I have to work on my little previews!! Oh well. Sorry this is a day late, I climbed up the volcano that sits in the middle of our harbour yesterday (very much dead volcano, I must say) and was absolutely knackered so hence, this is a day late. Thanks for your reviews. A few of the comments raised a point that will make this story one or two chapters longer! Thanks for taking the time to review, I do really appreciate it. Right, here we go!
An Understanding
Sunday morning arrived and as Harry made his way down to the kitchen for his late morning breakfast, it was to see Hermione busily packing a lunch around the equally busy Kreacher making his breakfast.
"Good morning, Master Harry," Kreacher welcomed, alerting Hermione to his presence.
"'Morning Kreacher," Harry replied, sitting down just as the house elf placed the customary bacon, eggs and toast in front of him - his usual Sunday fare, "'morning Hermione."
"Hey Harry," she smiled, still looking exhausted even though he hadn't seen her since she left mid afternoon yesterday, supposedly to sleep, "late start?"
"Yeah," he nodded, stuffing some eggs into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he continued, "always sleep in on a Sunday. Where're you off to?"
"Thought I'd do some sight seeing," Hermione told him, sitting down in a neighbouring seat, "I haven't really looked around London for ages and I thought I'd do something fun, get my mind off things."
"You know something," he mused out loud, his piece of toast half way to his mouth, "I've never had a good look at London. Do you fancy some company?"
She looked as if she was going to say no, but then changed her mind and gave him a hint of a grin.
"Sure."
It was nearly seven that evening when they re-entered Grimmauld Place, tired but happy. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had had so much fun just being normal, doing normal things. He and Hermione had gone pretty much everywhere, joining in the throng of summer tourists easily. As the day had progressed, Hermione had smiled more and slowly became the girl he had known for so long.
They collapsed in the drawing room talking about their day and Harry felt content. Crookshanks came in and sat on Hermione's lap while Kreacher served them some butterbeers and snacks. It was a few hours before conversation began to dwindle but instead of feeling uncomfortable, Harry felt exactly the opposite. Hermione got out a book she had just bought and started to read it, disturbing Crookshanks, who made his way onto Harry's lap instead.
Harry began to feel sleepy, the activity of the day catching up with him, and before he knew it, he had dozed off. It wasn't long before the images that so often invaded his dreams began to disturb him. Visions of the snake emerging from the open mouth of Dumbledore danced in front of his closed eyes, the body of his old headmaster melding into Lupin before splitting into two so both Remus and Tonks stood before him, both taunting him of how he failed them. He tried to tell them he did the best he could, but they wouldn't listen, their ghostly images angry and disappointed.
Harry pleaded to them, begged them to accept his apology, but they just shook their heads, advancing on him - their eyes red, with slits as pupils. He tried to run…
…and fell off his chair, a concerned Hermione kneeling over him, holding his hand. He snatched his hand away embarrassedly, scooting back into his chair and making sure he didn't look at her.
"Sorry," he mumbled, "nightmare."
"Are you okay?"
It was a question she had asked him thousands of times but for some reason, this time seemed different. This time there was no fear or reproach just the same concern but also an…understanding. Harry frowned and looked at her, forgetting his own problems immediately.
"Hermione," he started, pausing as she went back to her seat and took a deep breath, "are you having nightmares too?" After a brief hesitation, she nodded. He thought hard, running a hand through his hair as he did so, and suddenly a few things clicked into place. After a moment, he asked quietly, "how long?"
"I haven't slept a full night since Remus and Tonks' funeral," she told him with a sigh.
"Neither have I," he admitted and she looked at him then, a sad smile dancing on her lips.
"What do you see?" she whispered.
"Normally the dead," he told her as if he was talking about the weather, "telling me how I let them down, or how there's nothing left for me to do so I should join them. Sometimes Voldemort. Sometimes just monsters and bad stuff," he paused then asked, "how 'bout you?"
"Sometimes I see you dead. Sometimes it's Ron. Sometimes even mum and dad," she admitted quietly, "but most of the time it's Malfoy Manor and the pain …"
Harry felt guilty, so very guilty. He had forgotten how Hermione had been tortured to the point of unconsciousness; all because of his own stupidity…
"Don't Harry," she said suddenly.
"What?"
"Don't blame yourself or whatever it is you're doing."
"It's just that," he tried to explain, "I've never asked you about what happened, we've never talked…"
"Because you had other things to do," she frowned, "other priorities. That's why I didn't tell you about mum and dad until…until I couldn't be on my own any more. You've been through so much, I didn't want to add to it. I don't want to add to it."
"Why do you always put me first?" he suddenly blurted out, his frown matching hers as he tried to catch her eye.
"I don't always," she countered with a blush, looking down at her lap.
"You do for the important things," he argued, "you stayed with me when Ron made you chose, you've been tortured, you've put yourself in danger time and time again because I asked you to. Even before that, during Hogwarts, you've broken school rules for me, you've stood by me when no-one else did - you even went to every one of my Quidditch games when you hate Quidditch! Why? Why are the horrors you're going through and the sacrifices you've made any less than mine? I don't understand why my problems are more important to you?"
"Because you're my best friend," she replied weakly.
Harry would say he knew Hermione, knew her very well. He had seen her in every possible situation from full fledged anger to insecure shyness, but he had never seen her like now - small, meek…delicate.
"I'm worried about you," he said softly.
"What?"
"You come here when you should be in Australia," he began as she looked up at him with her dead eyes, "only to tell me that you've been back for a month without telling anyone and have buried your parents and sold your family home. You're way too skinny and you've haven't slept for over two months. You look terrible, Hermione. And I'm really worried about you."
She looked at him and he could tell she was thinking, debating over something in her mind as she unconsciously chewed her bottom lip like she always did when lost in thought. He let her, not speaking but not looking away either. After a few minutes, she spoke.
"I want to tell you not to worry," she admitted finally, her voice barely above a whisper, "that I'm fine. I want to make you talk to me about your nightmares so we can work through them and make them disappear so you can get your nights back and begin to live the life you deserve. I want to tell you all of that Harry - but I can't.
"Because I'm not fine, I'm anything but fine and I can't do this on my own any more. I thought I could, that I could make the nightmare's disappear - but I can't.
"Everything…everything is just…piling up, I guess. Burying Fred, then Remus and Tonks, seeing little Teddy alone…and then Ron…Ron not understanding why I had to leave," she paused as she wiped away some of the tears that had begun to fall, Harry just watching in guilty silence, "I had tried to get myself ready to see mum and dad, I thought I would be able to cope with seeing them without them knowing who I was, but it was horrible! When I removed the spell, they were so happy to see me, they didn't seem to care that I had basically taken their lives away from them and given them new ones!
"But every time they asked me how one of their friends back home was doing, or told me of some of the difficulties they faced moving to a new country on the other side of the world, I felt so terribly guilty! I kept telling myself that I did it for their own good, that they probably would've died if they had stayed in England but…but I had taken everything away from them! What gave me the right to do that, Harry? I didn't even give them the choice!"
For the second time in two days, Harry went to his friend and took her in his arms as she cried, soothing her as best he could.
"I just seem to cry all the time," she sobbed into his shoulder, "I know it's because I'm so tired, but…but everything…it's all too much! I feel like I'm this weak, useless, pathetic little girl who can't look after herself!
"I have no appetite, no desire to eat. In fact, I have no desire to do anything! I don't know what I want to do with my life any more! It's like…it's like I'm a shell and I don't know how to feel…"
"I know what you mean," Harry finally said, stroking her hair gently.
"You do?" she asked, looking up at him with watery eyes before smiling slightly and returning her head to his shoulder, "of course you do. You're probably one of the few people who can truly say that."
"Everyone expected me to be an Auror," he told her with the slightest of sneers, "and everyone expects me to help lead the Ministry, to be the one that gets the wizarding world back on their feet. They're still looking to me for answers but the truth is, I don't have any. I'm just a teenage boy who doesn't know how to do anything but bumble my way out of dangerous situations."
"Harry…"
"No, Hermione," Harry interrupted, pulling away from her slightly so he could look into her tired, yet familiar eyes, "everything you said, about feeling guilty, about everything being too much, about not knowing what you're supposed to do with your life - that's me! Everyone expected me to be an Auror, so that's what I'm doing. Everyone expected me to date Ginny, so that's what I'm doing! But I'm not happy, and I don't know how to be.
"Today, today was the first time in years where I was relaxed and not worrying about tournaments or Horcruxes or Umbridge or Voldemort or even the Weasleys. Today, I had fun."
"Me too."
"You and me, we can get through this," he said quietly, "neither of us are alone any more…"
"But, you're not alone," Hermione frowned in confusion, "you have Ginny…"
"Just as you have Ron."
"They don't seem to understand, do they," she admitted after a moment.
"No, they don't," Harry agreed with a small nod.
Neither spoke as the sat there, wrapped up in each others arms, both lost in thought. Harry had said more to Hermione in the last few minutes than he had said to either Ron or Ginny in the last two months. He wasn't sure why he was alright at opening up to Hermione where it was so difficult with anyone else. He guessed it was because it seemed she was feeling the same as him, feeling the same sense of loss, the same lack of desire.
He realised, after a while, that Hermione had fallen asleep, exhausted from so many things. He re-arranged himself on the couch she was sitting on so that she was leaning against him, her head still on his shoulder and her arms loosely around his neck. In her restless sleep, she groaned a bit as she got more comfortable, yet her breathing remaining slow and regular.
Harry briefly thought of taking her up to her bedroom and putting her to bed, but decided against it. He wanted her to sleep. So instead he rested his head on top of hers and closed his eyes, thinking about what had just happened.
He thought of Hermione over the years, of how she had changed from the book-worm, bossy know-it-all to someone he couldn't imagine his world being without. As he thought of all the times they had spent together, he realised how much he had taken her for granted, how he just expected her to know the answers, to have read the right book with the solution to what ever problem they were facing.
He realised that what he had said before was true - she has always been there for him, always. He also realised how things had changed between them during their sixth year at Hogwarts and then again last year. He puzzled over why that was.
A new image hit him, making his eyes snap open. He saw it clearly; Hermione being hit by a spell and falling, as if dead, in front of him at the Ministry of Magic in their useless attempt to save Sirius. How could've he forgotten that? He thought hard but couldn't recall him ever talking to her about it, if she had any side effects from the multitude of potions she had been made to drink to get her well again. Both she and Ron had been hurt badly during that whole, messy affair.
Because of his stupidity.
Just like how she was tortured at Malfoy Manor.
Because of his stupidity.
Harry hugged her tighter to him and she moved slightly, burrowing her face into his neck. How many times had she nearly died because of him? Too many. Ron too, injured when they went to get the Philosopher's Stone, with the attack by Aragog, the Ministry of Magic…
I'm such a prat, he thought angrily to himself, an arrogant, selfish prat. Oh, and don't forget stupid! I could've got them killed so many times because I didn't have a clue!
Closing his eyes once more, he vowed to himself that he would no longer take his friends for granted. Ron would be back from France in a week, reuniting with Hermione after two long months apart. Harry thought of ways he would show them both how much they meant to him, how much he appreciated that they were his friends and how much he treasured their friendship.
He smiled to himself as his mind moved on to the day he just had with Hermione and how much fun it had been. As drowsiness began to muddle his thoughts, it was happy images that invaded his dreams this time, his head dropping to the side to rest on the top of the head of the young lady still safely secured in his arms.