1. Preparations

Life Begins at 40

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all the characters in it belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is a work of imagination and is directed solely at readers of this website. No infringement of any rights is intended and no criticism of J.K. Rowling or her work should be considered to be stated or implied.

Part 1. Preparation

Harry Potter was feeling nervous. “There’s nothing to worry about”, he scolded himself for the umpteenth time. “You’re just having dinner with a friend.”

While this was undoubtedly true, it didn’t seem to help very much. Harry looked critically at his image reflected in the mirror of his room at the Leaky Cauldron. The suit and tie seemed unnatural to him. Although he held an important position in the Ministry, he always liked to be prepared for action and so rarely dressed formally for work. His social life, such as it had been in recent years, was also generally suited to more casual clothes. He licked the fingers of his right hand and tried unsuccessfully to paste a loose strand of his unruly black hair back into place. As usual, as soon as he released the pressure the hair sprang back into its former position. He adjusted his tie and ran his fingers around the inside of his shirt collar. It felt so tight. He was sure that he was putting on weight, even though most people would still describe him as slim; his build was certainly nothing like the skinny, emaciated youngster that he had once been. However, he just didn’t get enough chance to exercise any more. His job and family demands saw to that.

Harry was due to meet Hermione Granger, his second eldest friend, in about three quarters of an hour. They had become firm friends just a few short months after he had first met her and Ron Weasley on the train to Hogwarts. Although he initially enjoyed Ron’s company more, Harry had to admit that Hermione’s influence had grown quickly and by the time they reached their fourth year he really thought of Hermione as his chief friend and confidante, even though he still depended on Ron for male camaraderie.

Hermione had done so much for him over the years. It was Hermione who researched the background to the Philosopher’s Stone; Hermione who solved the riddle of the Chamber of Secrets; Hermione who helped him to rescue Sirius from the Dementor’s kiss; Hermione who believed him when everyone else turned against him over the Triwizard Tournament; Hermione who proposed Dumbledore’s army and helped him get through his most depressing year at Hogwarts; Hermione who warned him against using the potions book of the Half Blood Prince; and Hermione who had been with him every step of the way in the hunt for the horcruxes that finally lead to the vanquishing of Voldermort. In fact, it was no exaggeration to say that without Hermione Granger, Harry would have probably been dead or in despair a long time ago. Now, he hardly ever saw Hermione alone. It was always him with Ginny and Hermione with Ron and some of the kids were generally there too. They snatched brief moments of private conversation but he was always very aware of Ginny’s close attention and his current relationship with Hermione just wasn’t the same as the time, all those years ago, when they virtually seemed able to predict what the other was thinking.

Harry peered at his reflection again. It didn’t get any better. At 40 years of age, Harry didn’t think that time had been very kind to him. It wasn’t really surprising with his malnourished and abusive early upbringing and his teenage years filled with the strain of facing the possibility of death almost every day, with the knowledge that his actions could spell disaster for every free thinking individual alive. Those years had been superseded by a different type of strain that had gradually grown from his marriage and family. It wasn’t that he was unhappy exactly. He just felt a void. Something was missing; something that he seemed to have lost somewhere along the way. The shallow creases under his eyes were ever more noticeable and he could detect some strands of grey hair at his temples and crown. Perhaps his changing appearance was part of the reason for the apparent cooling of his relationship with Ginny, although she rarely commented on his looks any more. In any case, time hadn’t been too kind to her either. Certainly, Ginny’s hair was still as long, shiny and flaming red as it had ever been, although now it required a little help from a Wonder Witch potion, but her figure and demeanour got more like her mother’s every day and her ambition and drive had seemed to fade as soon as she and Harry were married.

Hermione, on the other hand, had hardly changed at all, in his view. Her bushy brown hair was almost as unruly as his own and she still wore it long but generally tied back, away from her face. Other things about her also hadn’t changed. Her brow was generally creased with the same worried frown that he remembered so well from their time at Hogwarts, as if she was concentrating on a problem that only she could resolve; but it always cleared when she greeted him. He had noticed that she didn’t seem to smile very much anymore and the reason for that now seemed clear, although he wondered when the change had begun and whether he might have picked up on it sooner. So much had happened in the last few weeks that Harry found it hard to remember any subtle signs that he might have noted from years gone by; but then he had to admit that he wasn’t the most observant of people when it came to interpreting the feelings and emotions of others.

Now, he had the feeling that his part in recent events was reaching some sort of climax, although whether it was going to be good or bad he couldn’t be entirely sure. Harry pulled on his overcoat, nervously preparing to leave, even though he knew that he was way too early, and thought back to when this had all started; the night when his carefully constructed charade of a happy, contented family life had first started to unravel.

2. A meeting with Ron

Life Begins at 40

Part 2. A meeting with Ron

Harry sat at the usual table in the Leaky Cauldron with his back facing the crumbling, bare brick wall, staring across the room at the welcome flames in the fireplace opposite and, further over, just able to see down the small corridor that lead from this back room to the main entrance door that opened onto the street outside. The wood of the table top was marked with rings from countless glasses that had stood on it over the years and was cracked and pitted. The same furniture had been in the Leaky Cauldron for as long as Harry could remember and he always preferred to sit on the wooden bench seat behind the table rather than on the fairly rickety wooden chairs that stood on the other side. Two foaming glasses of butterbeer rested on cardboard coasters on the table in front of Harry. He listened to the gentle crackling of the burning logs and could just about hear the muffled voice of Tom the barman speaking to other patrons through in the main bar.

He was waiting for Ron Weasley. Harry and Ron met every Wednesday night in the Leaky Cauldron, if they were both in town. It was a ritual that they had observed since they both got married and it gave them a break from the confines of family life. It provided a chance to reminisce about old times and discuss their work and the latest Quidditch news. Harry thought that he couldn’t survive without these regular bouts of male bonding and he was growing both frustrated and worried at Ron’s lateness. Finally, Harry heard the door opening and felt a cold rush of air from the winter evening outside. He looked up with relief to see Ron’s bright red hair appearing around the door, followed by his tall lanky frame, wrapped in a thick, dark overcoat and a woolen scarf patterned in hoops of green and gold, the colors of Ron’s favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons.

“Ron, over here.” Harry waved his arm, even though Ron had already glanced over at the table. “I’ve got you a butterbeer. Where have you been mate, you’re late?”

Ron frowned. He looked flustered as he unwound his scarf and began to absentmindedly unbutton his overcoat. He didn’t meet Harry’s eye.

“Sorry, I got held up at work,” he muttered. “Should have sent you a message really, but you know how it is.”

“Yeah, I know how it is with you. You probably got engrossed and forgot the time. Still you’re here now. What have you been up to?”

Ron threw his overcoat and scarf onto one chair and slumped down into the other, directly across from Harry. He gave a deep sigh, staring at the glass of butterbeer in front of him and then starting to nervously turn it in his long, freckled fingers.

“Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Work, taking the kids here and there, arguing with Hermione.” Ron lapsed into silence, still staring hard at the table and Harry tried to think of something to say that would cheer up his friend. He was embarrassed by the thought of the problems that he knew Ron and Hermione were having, but as they were both his friends, he felt that he couldn’t take sides. He deliberated about revealing to Ron that things were none too smooth between him and Ginny right now, but he wasn’t sure how Ron would take this unwelcome news.

“Hermione and I are splitting up,” Ron suddenly blurted out. “I thought that you should be the first to know, as you’re partly responsible.”

“What!” hissed Harry, making an effort not to attract the attention of the rest of the pub. “What have I got to do with it?”

“Well, you know I've never really stacked up against you as far as Hermione is concerned.”

“No, you just think that you don’t.” Harry kept his tone hushed. “Hermione doesn’t think like that.”

“You should know. Let’s face it, when we were at school you and her were always on the same wavelength. Most of the time I didn’t have a clue what was going on. Hermione always agreed with you about everything and followed you around. I felt like a spare wheel. I was only really there to provide a bit of light relief.” Ron sounded morose.

“It wasn’t like that Ron, and you know it. We were all friends and I seem to remember you and Hermione spending as much time together as Hermione and I did. Anyway, Hermione loves you and you love her.”

Ron sighed again and took a long sip of his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he replaced the glass on the table. “Yeah, but when Hermione and I were together we were normally talking about you.” He paused for a moment. “I suppose I thought that I loved her once, but I’m not really sure any more. I think it was just something that I reckoned I could finally beat you at. You know how ridiculously competitive I used to be. You probably don’t remember this, but you know when I got that self help book from the twins after our sixth year at school and tried to be a bit more like you where Hermione was concerned. Well, I remember once, just before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, the three of us, you, me and Hermione, were all sitting in my bedroom back at the Burrow and you said something that upset her. Of course, you apologised straight away, but I leapt up and shot across that room to comfort her before you could. I nearly ruptured something. That’s what it was like; I can’t believe that I was that stupid. So can you call that love? I’m just not sure. Let’s face it, she and I never had much in common and we always squabbled over the stupidest things. If it hadn’t been for you, we would probably never have been friends. One thing I am certain about though, Hermione never really loved me. Oh, she felt sorry for me; she always was a sucker for the under dog. But I think that I was just the consolation prize because you never showed any interest in her.”

“Ron, what are you talking about mate? I told you a long time ago, there has never been anything like that between me and Hermione,” Harry responded a note of panic in his voice.

“Sure, you’ve told me often enough. But Hermione never has though. She tries to reassure me, but she has never directly denied that she has always been in love with you. Anyway, we’ve both decided that we’ve had enough. We both want something better. It’s quite amicable, you know. Well, as much as anything ever is between us. We’re still friends and we’ll share time with the kids, but it’s definitely over. I feel relieved actually.”

Harry was silent and it was now his turn to stare at the table. Eventually, he summoned up the courage to speak. “Does Ginny know?”

“No. I told you; you’re the first. I mentioned to Hermione that I was going to tell you tonight and then I couldn’t face it. That’s why I was late.” Ron paused. “By the way, guess who I bumped in to today,” he volunteered, suddenly changing the subject. “Luna Lovegood. Haven’t seen her for ages. She hasn’t changed much. Still as dizzy as ever but she remembered me and she asked after you.”

Harry was grateful for the change of topic but couldn’t stop himself reflecting on what Ron had said. Why hadn’t he taken more notice of what was going on between Ron and Hermione? Could he have done something about it? Ron was way off target, wasn’t he? Hermione loved him like a brother, she always had. He wasn’t really responsible for the troubles that Ron and Hermione seemed to have? That was the way that they had always behaved towards each other. He had thought that it was how they showed their mutual affection, even though he found it hard to understand.

“Ron, you know that I’ve never done anything to make her think…” he tailed off lamely.

“Oh, I know. Don’t worry mate. I don’t really blame you. I’m just letting off steam. I know that it’s just how things are. Hermione and I need to move on.” He hesitated. “I think that I might give Luna a call you know, see if she fancies going out to dinner some night. Anyway, enough of my problems. How’s my sister?”

With that, the conversation moved on to safer ground but Harry just went through the motions for the rest of the evening. He couldn’t stop dwelling on what Ron had said about Hermione. He knew it wasn’t true, but it had unsettled him and he needed time alone to gather his thoughts and try to make sense of things.

3. Two Conversations with Hermione

Life Begins at 40

Author’s note: Thanks to the people who have taken the time to post a review. For a first time author it is great to get comments and encouragement. Hermione finally makes her entrance in this part.

Part 3. Two conversations with Hermione.

The next morning found Harry sitting idly at the desk in his office at the Ministry. He was trying desperately to concentrate on his work but couldn’t help mulling over the events of the previous evening. Suddenly, the phone on his desk rang, jolting him from his thoughts. He had insisted on having a phone in his office, since he was one of the few magical folk who knew how to use one and it enabled him to easily keep in touch with the Muggle world. Hermione also used it occasionally, as she also had a phone to allow her to contact her parents by the conventional means that they preferred.

“Harry?” It was Hermione, sounding agitated.

“Oh, hello Hermione,” Harry began hesitantly. “How are you?”

“You know damn well how I am. What did Ron tell you?” she demanded.

Harry thought desperately of ways to avoid revealing the full nature of his conversation with Ron. “Well… he said that you two were splitting up, but… that it was perfectly amicable and you both just wanted something different. He said that you would still be friends.”

“Is that all?” Hermione continued relentlessly, her tone still harsh.

“Yes, what else is there?” Harry tried to sound convincing.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” There was a pause and when Hermione continued to speak, she sounded notably calmer. “The thing is Harry; I need to talk to you about this.”

“OK Hermione. I think that Ginny is going over to the Burrow this weekend…” Harry began.

“It’s urgent Harry! I need to see you before the weekend. What are you doing this lunch time?”

“Well, I suppose I could slip out, but it would have to be quick. I’m up to my eyes in it, I really am.”

“OK, meet me at that café in Regents Street at half past twelve. And Harry, please don’t be late.”

She hung up before Harry could answer, leaving him looking at the clock and realising that he probably wasn’t going to get much further with his work that morning.

***

Harry apparated into a quiet side street at exactly 12.30 and walked straight to the café. He found that Hermione was already sitting at a table staring blankly out of the window and absentmindedly moving the menu and condiments back and forth in front of her; a sure sign that she was worried about something. The café was small and popular, with only a few tables and Harry was relieved to see that Hermione had managed to grab one of the tables next to the window, which only seated two people. She looked up and smiled unconvincingly as Harry approached.

“Hello. Thanks for coming at such short notice.” She spoke distractedly and reached again for the menu.

“No problem. Have you ordered yet?”

“Oh, I think I’lll just have a cup of coffee.” Hermione still seemed to be concentrating on something more important than their current conversation.

“Come on, Hermione, have some lunch.” Harry smiled reassuringly. “Don’t they do great baguettes here? What do you fancy, tuna and sweet corn or Chinese chicken?”

Hermione grinned. “Go on then, you’ve persuaded me. I’ll have the tuna…and a small latte.”

Harry placed the order at the counter, exchanged pleasantries with the cashier and handed over payment. He smiled across at Hermione as he waited for their drinks to be prepared, but found that she was again looking through the window at the street outside. She started nervously as Harry placed her latte in front of her, none too carefully, and then collapsed into the seat opposite.

“There’s your latte,” Harry said more loudly than was really necessary, to make sure that he had her attention. “They’ll bring the baguettes over when they’re ready. So what’s this all about? What’s so urgent that it couldn’t wait until the weekend?”

Hermione looked away, slowly stirring her coffee. “Oh, I just needed to talk to you. I was worried about what you might be thinking after your conversation with Ron.”

“Well, what should I be thinking? Isn’t there any chance of you and Ron patching things up?”

Hermione shrugged and picked up her cup, holding it half way to her mouth but making no attempt to drink. Eventually, she put it down again, untouched. “No. No chance, we can’t go on like we were. It just wasn't working.”

“But you used to be so happy.” Harry expressed the thought that had been bothering him since last night.

“No Harry! You wanted us to be happy,” Hermione responded with unexpected vehemence, “so that’s what you projected, but you know we’ve always argued. Oh, for the first few years it was OK. It was like Ron was making a special effort. But he couldn’t keep it up and then it became worse than ever and we really started to hurt each other. I should have known that he couldn’t really change that much. He’ll always have the emotional range of a teaspoon.” She smiled sadly, remembering when she had first used those words. “I suppose that I just hoped that I was seeing something different in him. But at the end of the day, you just have to accept people for what they are and not try to mould them in to someone…I mean something…that you want them to be. Anyway, by the time I realised it, we had the children and I suppose we thought that we ought to try and make a go of things for their sake. Well, now that the children are old enough to handle it, we’ve both decided it just isn’t worthwhile any more. Ron was right. There’s no real animosity; we made the decision together.”

The waitress brought their baguettes and withdrew back behind the counter. Harry sat glumly looking at the baguette in front of him and sipping his coffee. “Is there anyone else?” he eventually asked, tentatively.

“No,” Hermione answered defensively, looking up at him. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps it would make all of this a bit easier to understand.”

Hermione lifted up the top of her baguette and appeared to study the filling intently as she prepared to broach the real reason behind their lunch time meeting. “Harry…” she began quietly “...this doesn’t need to make any difference to us, does it? I mean…we can still be friends can’t we?”

Harry took a bite from his baguette and chewed thoughtfully. Eventually, he swallowed with an effort and cleared his throat. “I don’t see why it should. I mean, it isn’t as if you and Ron are flinging things at each other or having a massive custody battle over the kids.”

“Yes, but you know Harry…” Hermione was speaking quickly now, anxious to get her point across “…what about Ginny. You know how protective she is of her family and how she is about us; well about you and any woman really. My relationship with Ginny has gone steadily down hill since you and she became an item back in sixth year. And now she isn’t going to want to see me anymore and she certainly won’t be happy with you and I meeting up alone.”

“Oh, don’t worry about Ginny,” Harry reassured. “She’ll come round. Look Hermione, you and Ron have been my best friends since I was eleven years old. I am not going to take sides in this and I’m certainly not going to let it spoil our friendship.”

Hermione looked relieved and picked up her baguette, smiling; but even as Harry spoke the words, he couldn’t help wondering if he was really telling the truth.

4. An Argument with Ginny

Life Begins at 40

Part 4. An Argument with Ginny.

Harry couldn’t put his hypothesis about Ginny’s reaction to Ron and Hermione’s break up to the test immediately that evening. He got home to an empty house and a hastily scribbled note, attached to the refrigerator door, saying that Ginny had gone to the Burrow and that there were plenty of “ready meals” that he could heat up if he was hungry.

He had a simple supper on a tray in the living room, while watching the evening news and was just clearing away his dishes when he heard the front door closing and Ginny’s footsteps dragging down the hallway, before coming to rest in the kitchen doorway.

“Hi Gin,” Harry said, glancing over his shoulder while he continued drying a plate; but he froze as he took in the frown on her face and the slump of her shoulders, hands pushed deep in her coat pockets.

“When did you find out?” she asked accusingly.

Harry understood her question immediately and decided that honesty was probably the best policy. “Well, Ron told me last night in the pub, but…”

“And I don’t suppose it entered your head to tell your wife, who also happens to be his sister,” she interrupted. “No, I had to find out tonight, in front of Mum and Dad.”

“Ginny, Ron asked me not to tell you. He said that he wanted to break the news to you himself,” Harry pleaded.

“Oh well, that’s alright then,” Ginny replied sarcastically. “Do you always do what Ron tells you? Don’t you have a mind of your own?”

Harry was silent for a moment, waiting for Ginny’s obvious anger to subside. She seemed ready for a fight and Harry knew that it could be dangerous to provoke her when she was in this type of mood. Ginny had always had a fairly fiery temper and could often say or do things in the heat of the moment that she would regret later. “How was Ron?” he asked softly when he deemed it to be safe.

“How do you think? He’s devastated. What a bitch that woman is.”

“Steady on Gin, it isn’t all Hermione’s fault. At least Ron doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Don’t you dare take her side,” Ginny retorted angrily. “I thought that Ron was your best friend.”

“Well, they’re both my friends. I just think that we should stay out of it and let them work it out by themselves. Anyway, Hermione is your friend too.”

“Oh grow up Harry, can’t you see what’s going on? Are you really that thick? How can Hermione be my friend, when she has always wanted what I have? Don’t you realize that precious Hermione has always been jealous of me? That’s what this is really all about. Come on, even you must see that.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry was genuinely perplexed.

“Oh Harry, it’s you that Hermione is after. She always has been. Don’t you remember how she used to follow you and Ron around all of the time at school? Why do you think that was? She was overjoyed when Rita Skeeter wrote those articles about the two of you in fourth year. They enabled her to indulge her fantasies to the full. Didn’t you wonder why she was the only one who stuck by you when your name came out of the Goblet of Fire?”

“She was my friend,” Harry responded hesitantly.

“And what about Ron, wasn’t he your friend as well?” Ginny countered, exasperation in her voice, as if trying to explain two plus two to a retarded five year old.

“Well, yes he was,” explained Harry, “but Hermione was different.”

“Of course she was different.” Ginny jumped on this response like a cat pouncing on its prey. “She fancied you, that’s why she was so different. Why can’t you see it? It’s so obvious. Don’t you realize that I saw her kissing you at Kings Cross at the end of that year. She couldn’t have been much more obvious, unless she’d unzipped your fly on the platform. Just imagine how disappointed she must have been when she found out that you were still mooning around after Cho the next year. Then once that was over, you moved on to me. Hermione must have been devastated that you always just treated her like one of the boys.”

“Hold on,” Harry saw a weakness in Ginny’s argument that he could exploit. “Hermione was really pleased when we got together and you said that she gave you advice.”

“Oh wake up Harry! She pretended to be pleased; she pretended to give me advice. Ron told me that she let slip to you that I had gotten over you, when she knew that I hadn’t. How friendly was that?”

Harry was dumbstruck. He couldn’t take in what Ginny was saying. The facts sounded about right, he knew, but Ginny’s interpretation of them was way off base. It had to be.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Ginny’s voice, now taking on a more pleading tone.

“Look Harry, you can’t have it all ways. Ron is my brother. That’s family. That counts for more than some friendship with a love sick girl from your teens. I don’t want anything more to do with Hermione Granger and I expect you to be willing to support me.”

Harry was speechless. He was staggered by the intensity of Ginny’s reaction and the turn that events were taking. He couldn’t believe how quickly his peaceful evening at home had degenerated into this potentially disastrous confrontation.

“Ginny, it’s not that simple. Ron, Hermione and I were together all through school. If Ron and Hermione can stay friends, why do we have to behave differently? Anyway, you’re wrong about Hermione. She never fancied me; it was always Ron that she liked.”

“Oh Harry, don’t you see?” Ginny exclaimed desperately, “Hermione used Ron to keep close to you and now that she’s finished with him she is going to try and break us up next. Look what’s happening already. I bet she didn’t waste any time coming crawling to you with her side of the story. Did she?”

Harry thought back to the urgent lunch time meeting. Hermione wasn’t as manipulative as Ginny was making out. She couldn’t be. She had just always turned to him when she was in trouble.

Ginny understood Harry’s silence. “See, I knew it! She’s got her hooks into you already, hasn’t she? It’s always the same. I am so fed up of arguing with you about her; it’s ruining everything. Harry, you’re going to have to make a choice. It’s me or her. I’m not putting up with sharing you any longer.”

Harry clung to the edge of the kitchen sink, staring at the bubbles slowly fading in the washing up water; dissolving along with his sense of normality, as he struggled to hold on to the view of relationships that he thought he understood so well. How had it come to this? He couldn’t just cast aside his friendship with Hermione; not when she was relying on him to support her.

Ginny didn’t need to wait for any words to confirm what she suspected. “I see. It’s like that then,” she said bitterly. “You shouldn’t have to think about this Harry. I’m your wife for Merlin’s sake! How could you do this? Look, if you can’t make a simple choice after all that we’ve been through together…all that we’ve meant to each other, then I think that you should just leave. I don’t want you around at the moment.”

The coldness of her voice shocked Harry more than the words that she had spoken. “But Gin, can’t we…”

“Just go Harry. Get out; I’m sick of you!” Ginny screamed and then ran from the kitchen and up the stairs as she struggled to hold in the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her.

Harry stood in the centre of the kitchen, still holding his dish cloth. He felt stupid and lethargic. He couldn’t fully comprehend what had just happened. He took a few paces across to the bottom of the stairs, where he could hear Ginny now sobbing up in their bedroom. What should he do? He ought to go up and try to comfort her. But wasn’t that what always happened when they argued? Ginny cried and he caved in. What would it really achieve? They were just continually going round in circles, covering the same old ground; particularly where his relationship with Hermione was concerned. Wasn’t it time to finally break the pattern?

His hand reached automatically for the banister rail and his foot moved on to the bottom step. Then with a sudden decisiveness he turned, grabbed his coat from the hook in the hallway and went out into the cold winter night. He didn’t really have a clue what he was going to do or where he was going to go. He just felt that something had unexpectedly changed and he needed to take advantage of the opportunity that it presented. Suddenly, becoming conscious of the coldness of the night air, Harry wondered if there might be a room free at the Leaky Cauldron and directed his thoughts towards its friendly, welcoming atmosphere.

5. Dinner with Hermione

Life Begins at 40

Author’s Note: The penultimate part, brings us back to where we came in. I also knew that I would get the Chudley Cannon’s colors wrong in Part 2! I should have checked. I am informed that they are orange and black. Apologies.

Part 5. Dinner with Hermione

Harry sat in the small, dark restaurant in the back room of a pub in Hampstead waiting for Hermione. He had chosen this restaurant because of the low lighting and the generous space between the tables, giving diners more privacy than in virtually any other restaurant that he knew. He was anxious that he and Hermione shouldn’t be recognized or overheard tonight. It was just over two weeks since Ginny had suddenly demanded that he leave their house and although he had been back to pick up a few things and had met up with Ginny a couple of times, she didn’t seem to be in any mood for a reconciliation. Harry was almost certain that Ginny had deliberately sought a confrontation on the night that he had left, in the hope of finally cutting off his ties with Hermione. However, after things hadn’t gone quite as she had expected, she was now too stubborn to back down. As Harry also had no intention of giving way this time and was convinced that his separation from Ginny should be permanent, he had decided to take the next seemingly logical step. Disregarding Ginny’s views about Hermione’s duplicity and trusting his own judgment for once, Harry had phoned Hermione from his office a couple of days ago and asked her to meet him here tonight. When she had tried to press him for an explanation, he had pretended that he had to dash off for an urgent appointment, leaving Hermione confused and frustrated.

As the meeting was his own idea, it was difficult for Harry to understand why he felt so nervous tonight; it was only a dinner after all. Ginny had often said that one of the things that had attracted her to him was that he was so brave in the way that he had pursued Voldermort. Harry had tried to explain to her, as he had tried to tell Ron and Hermione many years before, that bravery had little to do with it. Most of the time it was just bloody mindedness and sheer blind panic that drove him on during those years. Harry thought that to be brave you had to act out of choice and he felt that he had never really had that opportunity. He hadn’t chosen to seek confrontation; it had been forced on him like a part of his genetic programming; something that he had no voluntary control over. In Harry’s opinion, Snape had been brave, as he had chosen to act against Voldermort for Lilly’s sake, being fully aware of the dangers involved. By this reckoning, Ron and Hermione had also been braver than Harry, since they had chosen to stick with him, when they could have walked away at any time. Neville had been brave, leading the resistance at Hogwarts and perhaps even Ginny. He also regarded Luna Lovegood as braver than himself, since she always stuck to her convictions, no matter how much abuse she took; something that he had never quite been able to manage. Even now, he wasn’t really being truthful with himself. He knew why he was nervous. It was because this meeting tonight was potentially very important to him and he really had no idea what he hoped to accomplish or how to go about it. He just knew that things had to be brought out into the open with Hermione, but Harry was well aware that if the meeting went badly it could deal a major blow to their friendship.

Harry glanced up as Hermione entered the room. She always appeared beautiful to him, but tonight she looked stunning, wearing a close fitting, sleeveless, calf-length dress of a soft, pale turquoise material; a double strand of pearls around her neck and her hair hanging loosely to her shoulders. It was clear that she had made a special effort. Harry stood as Hermione was shown over to their table.

“Hello,” she said a little nervously, looking around the room. “This is a nice place; I didn’t even know that they had a restaurant here.”

Harry leaned forward and kissed Hermione lightly on the cheek in greeting. “Yeah, I’ve used it a couple of times to meet up with Muggle VIPs. It’s very private and the media don’t seem to know about it.”

“What’s this all about? You aren’t usually so mysterious,” Hermione asked anxiously.

Harry smiled, indicating the chair opposite and waited for Hermione to sit down before retaking his own seat. He took his time, forming his words carefully. “I just thought that we should meet up and clear the air. Things have been moving very quickly recently and we haven’t really had the chance to catch up with each other.”

Hermione grimaced. “That sounds ominous,” she said lightly.

“Look, I’ll get straight to the point,” Harry continued decisively, ignoring Hermione’s flippant remark. “It’s to do with your break up with Ron. Ginny and Ron have both said things to me about you that made me start thinking and… I just need to know whether what they suggested is true or not. If it is, it means that I have been a total idiot for longer than I care to remember.”

Hermione fell silent, the color draining from her face, suspecting and dreading what was to come next. Whatever she had been expecting from the evening, it hadn’t been this.

“The thing is,” Harry continued, oblivious to the change in Hermione’s expression, “we’ve been friends since we were just a couple of kids; really good friends. In fact, I don’t know what I would have done most of the time if you hadn’t been there for me to turn to. Well, Ron and Ginny both hinted that… at one time… you perhaps hoped that we might be… more than just friends.” Harry’s voice got gradually quieter as he struggled over his words. “I need to know whether I should believe them,” he finished, almost inaudibly.

Hermione exhaled deeply and looked away, appearing to study the room and the other diners. Harry was horrified to see her eyes moistening and she ran her hand roughly over the top of her cheeks before turning back and looking down at the place setting in front of her. She was quiet for a long moment, her breathing rapid and shallow as she struggled to regain her composure.

“Things were never really that simple,” she finally began tentatively. “Look Harry, I won’t try to deny that I always liked you. Even before we met, I knew so much about you. It was obvious that we were about the same age and I hoped that you might be in my year at Hogwarts. But then we met and you weren’t at all what I had imagined. You were skinny and wore silly round glasses. Your hair stuck up, you didn’t seem to know very much, and you were annoying and slightly arrogant.” She paused and smiled. “But you were also sincere and kind. You were the only one who thought of me when that troll got loose on Halloween; don’t deny that it was your idea, Ron told me all about it when he was drunk one night. How could I not like you after that? And then, we became friends. In fact, you turned out to be the best friend that I had ever had and we appeared to understand each other so well.” The wistful expression on Hermione’s face was replaced with one of resignation. “But that was how you seemed to want to keep things. Just as friends and, I have to admit, I wasn’t particularly overjoyed to see you chasing after Cho and then Ginny, when you didn’t seem interested in me; especially after I stuck up for you and helped you out in fourth year. I suppose that I hoped that once other boys started to take an interest in me, you might follow suit. But it didn’t happen; even though Victor Krum was really jealous of our friendship. Then Ron made it clear that he fancied me and I suppose that I thought that might be enough. And it was for a while.” Hermione paused again and she became more serious. “But the thing that you must understand Harry is that those feelings were over a long time ago. They had nothing to do with Ron and my break up. So you mustn’t feel guilty about it.”

Harry frowned. “It isn’t that. I don’t feel guilty; I just feel incredibly stupid. The thing is, when I was growing up with the Dursleys, I was a nothing; the lowest form of life. It’s hard now to remember just how bad things were. But then I came into the wizarding world and suddenly I was famous and I got attention. It just seemed to me that all my dreams had come true and really good looking girls, like Cho and Ginny, were interested in me. That had never been the case when I was a Muggle.” Harry smiled and gave a deep sigh. “I suppose that it went to my head a bit and it was even fun to see how jealous the other blokes were, particularly Ron, who never was very good at hiding his emotions. I thought that I deserved it in some way. After all, my Dad managed to marry probably the best looking girl in his year at Hogwarts, didn‘t he?” Harry looked at Hermione, trying to judge her mood and decided that he might as well be totally honest with her. “But you know, all that time, if it came to a choice, you were more important to me than any of those other girls. I don’t think that I’ve ever told you this, but whenever I was thinking of doing something particularly rash or foolish, I would actually hear your voice in my head telling me to think again. That’s the real reason that Cho and I broke up you know; because she was jealous of our relationship.” He looked down; avoiding the empathy in Hermione’s eyes and his voice became more uncertain. “Then, when we went back to Hogwarts that last time for the final confrontation with Voldemort and I saw you kissing Ron, I felt a real sense of loss. I’d never expected to feel like that; I thought that I had become resigned to you being with Ron. But when I was walking off to face Voldermort, believing that I wouldn’t be coming back, I thought of the people that I would like to see one last time.” Harry looked up again, needing to study Hermione’s reaction to the confession that he was about to make. “And do you know who I thought of first? It wasn’t Ginny or Cho. It was you. I think that was when I finally realized just what you meant to me; but it was too late. You were with Ron and, once it was all over, I didn’t have the heart to say anything to you. I never dreamt that you might have some of the same type of feelings, so I just took up with Ginny again.” Harry shrugged. “What an idiot I was, eh?”

A waiter approached their table, notepad and pen in hand, but Harry waved him away, miming that they needed more time. He looked at Hermione, who returned his gaze with an expression of bewilderment. “You probably know that things aren’t too rosy between Ginny and me at the moment,” he continued. “She didn’t take your break up too well and all of these issues suddenly came out into the open. The truth is, I’ve been staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the past two weeks. So you see, you and I are both at a bit of a loose end.” He paused, wondering how he should phrase the request that he had been leading up to. “I know that you said that those feelings were over a long time ago for you…” Harry pressed on doggedly, reaching across the table and resting his hand on one of Hermione’s “…but they aren’t for me. And so, I was wondering… whether it’s too late, or whether we could try being a bit more than just best friends after all?” He stopped and looked at Hermione hopefully. She sat shaking her head in disbelief, with a puzzled frown now creasing her brow.

“This is a bit much to take in, Harry. What is it exactly that you want to happen?” she offered after a long period of silent thought.

“I don’t know,” Harry wondered hastily, not wanting to say anything that would seem inappropriate and spoil the mood, now that he had come this far. “I need to find somewhere else to live. Perhaps we could consider moving in together. Nothing heavy; separate bedrooms and all that. But I really can’t think of anyone that I would rather spend time with than you and I can’t see how any other relationship is going to work, when I have such a beautiful woman as my best friend,” he finished with a weak grin.

Hermione didn’t answer immediately, her frown deepening. Harry felt his heart beat quickening and found that his senses suddenly kicked into overdrive as he strained to gauge her reaction. He was conscious of the soft ticking of a grandfather clock through in the adjoining hallway, a muffled curse coming from the kitchen as someone accidentally touched a hot surface, and the distant rumble of a local train heading towards Kings Cross. Hermione looked away and Harry thought that he noticed an unexpected expression pass across her face that he didn’t quite understand; but when she turned back towards him, her gaze was hard and unsympathetic.

“So let me get this straight,” she began, sounding harsh. “After you messed me about for all of those years, you come to me now, at a time when you know that I’m going to be feeling vulnerable, and propose that “because we’re both at a bit of a loose end” you would like to be “a bit more than just best friends,” whatever that’s supposed to mean.” Hermione’s tone was scathing and the last vestiges of hope disappeared from Harry’s face as he recognized the growing anger in her voice.

“And you want us to move in together, but “nothing too heavy.” This is the best that you can come up with after all this time and all the things that I have done for you over the years.” Hermione appeared to be approaching boiling point and Harry could scarcely remember when he had ever seen her react in this way. “Well, I’ve only got one answer to give to you, Potter!”

Hermione paused for dramatic effect and Harry opened his mouth to plead forgiveness, like an anxious fish coming to the water’s surface to feed; but then closed it again as Hermione’s fierce expression was replaced by a radiant smile.

“I think that it’s a brilliant idea,” she said happily. “When can we start?”

6. New Beginnings

Life Begins at 40

Author’s Note: The final part finds Harry trying to mend bridges. Once again, thanks to those of you who took the time to review. This is the first story of any type that I have submitted anywhere and so it was a bit of an experiment for me. All comments, both good and not so good, have been greatly appreciated.

Part 6. New Beginnings

Harry was just throwing a few final books and CD’s into his sports bag, when he heard Ginny entering the house. He stopped and looked up. Ginny had come in from the cold outside; her cheeks were flushed and she dabbed at her pink nose with a tissue.

“Hello Ginny,” Harry forced a smile. “I’m just going.”

“No rush,” she answered wearily. “Have you got everything?”

“Pretty much.” Harry hesitated. “Look Ginny, about you and Hermione…”

Ginny held up her hand to silence him. “Can we not talk about that just now?”

Harry shrugged and they stood looking at each other in silence. There was no real animosity remaining, they had been through their grievances too many times for that; all that was left now was a sense of resignation.

“Are you going to be alright?” Harry asked eventually and now it was Ginny’s turn to shrug.

“Yeah, I guess so. Neville has been very helpful; really sweet.”

“Good old Neville,” grinned Harry. “He always did have a bit of a soft spot for you. But then he wasn’t the only one, was he?”

Ginny couldn’t help smiling, recognizing the compliment. Her posture softened and she shifted uncomfortably. “Look Harry, if it’s any consolation, I don’t really think that Hermione is a bitch; I just get a bit carried away sometimes. I do think that she’s not as innocent in all of this as you want to believe, but I can’t really blame her for falling for you. I did - even though Mum liked you and that was normally a real passion killer for me. And I should have realized that you couldn’t just sever your links with Hermione after what you two went through together. That was wrong of me.” She looked up defiantly. “You can’t expect me to like it, though.”

“I don’t expect that Gin. I just don’t want us to hate each other.”

“Well that’s OK then.” Ginny gave a resigned sigh. “I don’t hate you Harry, although I probably should; I’m just really disappointed in you. And so is Mum by the way. I would stay away from the Burrow for a while if I was you.”

Harry couldn’t prevent the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth at the reference to Molly Weasley’s undoubted displeasure. He looked at Ginny standing forlornly in the centre of a room in which they had spent so much time together and took a hesitant step towards her. “Thanks for the advice.” Slowly, he reached out, placing both hands on her shoulders and pulled her tenderly towards him, touching her forehead with his lips and then wrapping his arms around her small, sturdy frame. He held her for a short while until she moved her hands up to his chest and pushed him gently away.

“OK Potter, that’s enough. You’re not off the hook just yet. I haven’t forgiven you or forgotten what you did. So don’t get any ideas.”

Harry grinned, realizing that even this level of response represented significant progress. He knew from bitter experience that Ginny never found it easy to apologize or show remorse. “I’d better be going.” He hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, buttoned his coat and headed for the front door.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Ginny unexpectedly muttered, almost as if the words were being drawn out against her will.

“Fat chance,” Harry called back from the doorway. “The kids will be home next week and I’ll be coming over to see them; if that’s OK?”

Ginny shrugged again, noncommittally, but Harry just gave a rueful smile and a parting wave of his hand before going out into the street, closing the door firmly behind him.

***

“So you didn’t waste much time then.” Harry was sitting opposite Ron at their normal table in the Leaky Cauldron. He was perched on the edge of the bench seat as usual, while Ron leaned precariously back in a chair, warming himself in the flickering glow of the log fire. It was the first time that they had met up in over a month.

“Look, I’m not taking that from you, mate. You didn’t waste any time either and you’re dating my ex-wife!” Ron sounded scandalized.

“Touché,” Harry responded with a grimace.

“Things are different with Luna though,” Ron continued. “Very relaxed; easy going. She just seems to drift through life, but everything appears to get done anyway and she’s great with the kids. They really like her. She seems to be able to respond on their level and understands all of their problems. Hermione was a lot more demanding. I suppose that applied with me as well.”

Harry smiled gratefully. “You know Ron, I can’t believe how well you’re taking all of this.”

“Well, I won’t deny that at one time things would have been very different. I was so jealous of your relationship with Hermione, who I had somehow designated as the girl of my dreams. But I think that Luna has taken the edge off things and in any case, the last few years haven’t been a bed of roses.” Ron took a sip of his drink and leaned forward setting his glass back down on the table. “Hermione was never an easy woman to live with; not for me at least. She has her own ideas, as you well know, and she just didn’t seem to be able to accept that I couldn’t match up to her high standards. I didn’t want to either, if the truth be told. Not only that, but I was never really into the whole “save the underdog” thing that she has going. You’re the only one who could ever stomach that.” He paused reflectively. “No, I don’t really miss living with Hermione. At least now we can go back to how we used to be. Friends; good friends, who don’t have to pretend to agree with each other all of the time for the children’s sake.”

Ron’s expression suddenly became more serious. “If anything, the thing that I should be mad with you about is what you’ve done to Ginny, but I can’t seem to manage even that. I suppose it would be different if she seemed more upset herself and, in any case, it’s hard to be mad at you for doing something that I’ve just done as well. Anyway, from what Ginny tells me, it sounds as if you and she had almost as many problems as Hermione and me.” Ron looked at Harry sympathetically. “I know that she’s still giving you a bit of a hard time, but the last couple of occasions that I’ve seen her, she’s seemed to be fairly cheerful. Almost back to her old self. No, overall I think that things have probably worked out for the best; for me and Ginny at least, although I doubt that Ginny would quite see it like that at the moment.” He chuckled. “It’s you I feel sorry for. I hope that you know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

Harry nodded his head, flicking idly at a beer mat with his fingers. “Oh, I’m pretty sure that I’ll be able to manage.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” agreed Ron. “After Voldermort, even Hermione must seem pretty tame. Anyway, I wish you the best of luck mate; I really do.”

“Cheers,” Harry laughed, raising his glass and letting out a sigh of relief. “Your round, I think.”

***

Harry and Hermione leaned on the metal railing and looked out over the deserted, pebble beach. Low waves slithered over the surface and sucked small stones from their rest as they retreated. The sky was clear and a weak, low sun couldn’t begin to counter the chill of the winter morning. The soulful cries of a few brilliant white seagulls provided a discordant accompaniment as they crisscrossed repeatedly overhead.

“I forgot to tell you that I bumped in to Ginny and Neville last week,” Hermione offered. “It was still pretty strained, but at least we were talking. I think that Ginny finds it hard to stay too mad at me when Neville’s around. He has to be one of the nicest and most genuine people I know.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied thoughtfully, “and just imagine, he could have been “the boy who lived” instead of me, if Voldermort had seen things differently.”

“Well he wasn’t - and if he had been, nothing would have been the same and we might not be standing here today.”

“Perhaps…” admitted Harry, “…but we also might have got here a lot quicker. You know, when I think about my great period of insanity, I can’t help wondering if I stuck with Ginny and didn’t attempt to do anything about you and Ron because I was trying to put the past firmly behind me. To me, Ginny was never really associated too closely with the struggle against Voldermort, while you were entwined so intricately with it that I just couldn’t escape from all the bad memories when you were around. It turned out though that the cure was far worse than the sickness.”

Hermione smiled. “Well, I can’t really say that I’ve got too many regrets. Obviously, we missed years together, but by rights none of us should have survived our teens in any case. I’ve got two great kids, a career that I enjoy and I’m finally extremely happy; with plenty of years to look forward to.” She sighed. “Just think of all of the people who didn’t make it: Sirius; Lupin and Tonks; Fred; Colin Creevey; even Cedric Diggory.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining either,” Harry answered quickly. “But I really thought that you were happy with Ron and I convinced myself that Ginny was what I wanted. We seemed to have so much in common; but in fact we were probably too much alike, as it turned out. I never felt as comfortable with her as I do with you. We seemed to connect straight away, you and me; right from our first year at Hogwarts. It’s just a shame that it took such a long time for me to work things out. Anyway, it’s better now. This feels right, although I’m glad that we followed your advice to wait a while before moving in together. I realize that this cooling off period is really going to help Ron and Ginny come to terms with things in the long run, but I’m getting sick of the Leaky Cauldron.” Harry shook his head despairingly. “Why am I so hopeless at this sort of thing?”

“All part of your charm,” Hermione replied playfully, nudging Harry with her hip. “It wouldn’t do for you to be good at everything, would it? If you were, what would you need me for?”

“Oh, I’m sure that I’d think of something,” Harry joked. “For one thing, I need you to help me recover. I’m still mentally scarred from that stunt you pulled in the restaurant after I revealed my deepest feelings to you.”

“Come on Harry, where’s your sense of humor?” Hermione laughed. “I know that it was a bit cruel, but I was stunned at first; I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing. Then I thought about all of the anxiety that you had caused me over the years and I just couldn’t help myself.” She shrugged. “Anyway, you should really blame Ron. It’s impossible for anyone to live with him for any length of time without perfecting the subtle art of the scathing remark. And if you’re honest, don’t you think that you deserved it, after keeping me waiting for so long?” Hermione left her question unanswered.

“But speaking of waiting,” she continued more positively, “I don’t think that it will be too long now before we can start looking for somewhere to live. Ron and Luna aren’t exactly keeping up the pretense any more; he spends most of his time around at her place. Ron and I have decided that we are probably going to sell our house and split the proceeds; so now we’ve just got Ginny’s reaction to worry about. You are going to let her and the children stay in your house, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, for the time being,” Harry sighed. “It’s seems the least that I can do. I know that Ginny is going to be OK and that she’ll probably be better off without me. I know that I’m going to stay close to the children and that I’ll continue to support them, but I can’t help feeling guilty about all of this. Why is that?”

Hermione was ready with her answer. It was an answer that she had formulated a long time ago. “Basically, it’s because deep down you’re still “the boy who lived” and you feel that you’re responsible for everything and everyone!” she replied, squeezing Harry’s arm. “We are going to have to see what we can do to sort that out. You can’t carry the weight of the whole wizarding world on your shoulders for ever; after all, I need most of your attention now.” She smiled affectionately. “But that’s for the future; for the moment let’s just enjoy this weekend away together.”

Hermione shivered and pulled her coat more tightly around her.

“It’s getting cold. Shall we make our way back to the hotel?” Harry suggested.

Hermione nodded and they both turned and headed away from the beach; Harry’s arm draped loosely over Hermione’s shoulder and her arm clasped firmly around his waist.