A/N - thanks for the reviews. It's always nerve wracking posting a new story, especially when you're reading some really good fictions here on Portkey, but the comments have all been really positive - so thanks!
Chapter 2
He hated the funerals, but strangely it was the funeral of Colin Creevy that Harry hated the most. It was two weeks after he had stood at the foot of Professor Dumbledore's tomb as it was reinstated to its proper state; two weeks after he had stood stoic with Ron beside a crying Hermione and Ginny while they watched Remus and Tonks being buried. And just under two weeks since he had stood with the Weasley family as Fred was laid to rest.
The rest of the funerals had progressed at a numbingly regular rate to the point where Harry couldn't attend them all. But he attended Colin's. He stood at the back on his own, remembering his fellow Gryffindor with a mixture of fondness and guilt. The family were celebrating Colin's life more than focusing on his death, each story making Harry's guilt even more gut wrenching.
When the funeral was over, he made to leave quickly but Mr Creevy came up to him and said they wanted to give him something of Colin's. Embarrassed, he made his way to the family home and waited, smiling a fixed smile and accepted with polite graciousness the thanks given by other mourners for 'saving them'. He was handed a reasonably large box of photos that the Creevy's thought he would like. They had removed all the photos of the family and such and because Colin had always spoken so highly of Harry that they thought he should have the rest.
This was why he was now sitting on his bed with the box in front of him, psyching himself to take off the lid and see what was inside. Colin's funeral had been two days ago and today was Harry's eighteenth birthday. He was due to meet Hermione in a couple of hours so they could go to the new Burrow together to celebrate, Hermione having moved back home to be with her recently returned parents.
He didn't know why he needed to look at the photos now, but he did. Sitting crossed legged on his bed, he took a deep breath and removed the lid from the box - inside were hundred of images, all moving. Harry began pulling them out, one by one, and looking at them, every now and then smiling at a face or a memory.
"Harry, are you nearly ready to go?"
Hermione's voice and the tap on his door startled him slightly until he realised that two hours had nearly gone and she was here to collect him.
"You can come in, Hermione," he called out, still picking up and looking at the photos one by one. She popped her head in, frowning when she saw him, then made her way to where he was sitting.
"What's all of this?" she asked, sitting on the other side of the bed and looking at the piles in front of him.
"Colin Creevy's photos," he answered absently, putting a picture of Lavender and Parvati onto one of the piles, "his parents thought I should have them."
"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed as she picked up a photo of a smiling Remus and looked at it sadly, "have you been looking at these all morning?"
"Yeah," he shrugged, "there's heaps of them. I didn't realise just how many he took. Most of them seem to be when no-one really noticed."
"My, there are quite a few of you," she observed, flicking through the biggest pile, "then again, he was one of your biggest fans."
"And look where it got him," Harry snapped as he dropped a photo of someone he didn't know on another pile.
"I know," she sighed before gasping a little 'oh' at a photo of Professor Dumbledore.
"I can't go to anymore funerals, Hermione," he said suddenly, pushing the now empty box away from him, "I can't put up with any more people thanking me for saving them or some such nonsense. I'm sick of it."
"I bet," she tried to smile, glancing up at him and the smile dying on her lips, "it's been horrid and it must be even worse for you. People will understand if you don't attend any more funerals and if they don't - who cares?"
"Really?" he asked with a bit of confusion, "you agree with me? No fight? No 'you must do your duty'? No telling me that I deserve the thanks or whatever?"
"No," she stated shortly, "though you do deserve everyone's thanks. Honestly Harry, you need to start doing things for you, not because you think that others expect it of you. You don't have to do that any more, you're free," she paused as she looked at the photo of Ginny he had put to one side, "this is lovely - she really is quite pretty, isn't she?"
Harry just nodded and watched as she put the photo back on the bed and noticed the other pictures he had selected. She picked up the image of her and himself sitting on the couches in front of the Gryffindor fire, their heads bent together as they talked. Harry had liked the photo as the firelight seemed to dance off Hermione's hair and they both looked so intent with their conversation that it looked somewhat peaceful.
A small frown crossed her face as she looked at the picture, before letting go a sigh and gently placing it back on the bed.
"We should get going," she said softly, standing, "are you ready?"
"Sure," he replied, "I just need to get my shoes."
"Happy birthday, by the way," she added as if an afterthought; Harry smiled his thanks.
She waited patiently for him, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Harry left her to it, his own mind returning to the many images he'd seen throughout the morning. All reflection disappeared, however, when they arrived at the Burrow, both quickly caught up in the noise and bustle that is the Weasley's as they celebrated Harry's birthday.
The day was beautiful and hot, and it wasn't long before Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione found themselves lounging in the backyard in lazy contemplation. Ginny was laying down with her head in Harry's lap as he leaned back on his arms and watched his two best friends interact opposite him. Hermione had been very quiet all day and Harry was concerned. Ron didn't seem to notice.
"So," the redhead began, squinting into the sunlight, "dad was saying there's heaps of jobs' going at the Ministry, Hermione, a lot of them temporary until things get sorted. Are you going to try out for one of those?"
"No," she answered curtly.
"Whatd'ya mean, 'no'?" Ron grunted, "you have to do something, even if it's only for a little bit."
"Why would I only need a temporary job?" Hermione asked, glaring at Ron.
"Well," Ron carried on, oblivious of the mess he was getting himself into, "I mean, once we get married and have kids, you won't need to work…"
Harry felt himself flinch as he watched Hermione turn to Ron, her face red. Ginny bolted upright with a look of unrepressed glee as she readied herself for the mayhem that they both knew was going to happen.
"You think," Hermione spat, her voice low and controlled, "that I want to give up my chance at a career? My chance to make a difference? Just so I can marry you and have your babies?"
"Er…yeah?" Ron said tentatively, glancing to Harry for support, finally realising he was in trouble.
"Do you know me, Ronald Weasley?" Hermione growled, getting to her feet, "do you have any clue about me at all?"
"Sure…"
"No you don't!" she yelled, her anger finally getting the best of her, "for goodness sake Ron, you haven't even told me you like me! You're planning my life, thinking I'm going to walk away from all the hard work I've done so I can raise your children and you haven't even had the bollocks to ask me out! You're unbelievable!"
"You know I fancy you!" he yelled back, scrambling to her feet and facing her, "everyone knows I fancy you! Bloody hell, even Harry dreamt that you and I are going to get married!"
"It was a dream!"
"So?" he shouted, "it might as well be real - everyone expects it! Harry marries Ginny, you marry me, just like his dream! And what's wrong with thinking you'll look after the kids - mum did it!"
"I am not your mother!"
"Well, that's good, because otherwise me thinking that you look rather pretty when your hair kinda bounces all around your head would make me a bit…sick."
Both Ron and Hermione's head snapped towards the grinning George as he walked towards them, Harry and Ginny hurriedly standing as they, too, looked at the newcomer.
"What?" Ron snarled, still angry.
"I said, little brother," George continued jovially, putting his arm across Ron's shoulders and guiding him away from Hermione, "that I'm glad that Hermione isn't your mother, because that would make her my mother and that would make all the times I've thought Hermione was rather lovely just plain wrong. Blimmey, I would've thought you would've heard me loud and clear.
"Anyway, the birthday nosh is ready. Come on, you lot."
Hermione fell into step behind George and Ron, George's compliments not enough to pull her out of her foul temper. Harry and Ginny came up the rear, walking hand in hand.
"Did you really dream that you and I were married?" Ginny asked after a moment.
"Yeah," Harry admitted, not looking at her.
"That's really sweet," she cooed, hanging onto his arm tighter. Harry didn't have a chance to say anything more as they were suddenly engulfed into the family, but Ginny couldn't stop smiling at him throughout the meal. Harry, however, was more concerned with Hermione and Ron - both stony faced and solemn. This latest argument had been brewing for a while and in a way, Harry was glad it had finally come to a head.
"So Hermione," Mrs Weasley started, and Harry's attention latched onto her, "have you made plans yet, dear? What with Ron working with George, Ginny going back to Hogwarts and Harry starting Auror training, we still don't know what's happening with you!"
"Actually," Hermione answered politely, ignoring Ron's glare, "I'm going to university…"
A chorus of 'university?', 'what's university?' went around the table as the wizarding folk were not used to the term. Harry, however, was. Hermione looked over the table to him and he could see a mixture of determination and guilt in her eyes. Still looking at him, she began to explain to the others.
"University is like a Muggle school for higher learning," she said briskly, "I'll be studying law and politics in Oxford so I can live at home with my mum and dad."
"You're going to live like a Muggle?" Ron asked, shocked.
"Yes," she replied, finally glancing to Ron, "though I will be working in the Ministry once a week. Professor McGonagall and Mr Shacklebolt helped me sort it all out."
"So, you're going back to school?" Ginny piped up.
"Yes."
"For how long?" Ron nearly spat at her.
"Four years."
"I don't believe this!" Ron snarled, standing as if to storm away.
"Sit down Ron," Mr Weasley ordered sternly before looking more gently to Hermione, "that sounds like a brilliant idea. Will you be returning to the wizarding world once you've finished?"
"I'm hoping to," she carried on, once more looking to Harry while Ron slumped down in his chair, "I thought I could do the most good by learning how to negotiate and such. It doesn't seem to be a common trait within the Ministry."
"No, no it's not," Mr Weasley agreed, nodding with understanding.
"Well, I think it's a brilliant idea," Ginny smiled, "good for you, Hermione."
Harry knew Hermione was waiting for him to say something, to let her know he approved of her decision - but he wasn't sure he did. It would take her away from him. He knew that was selfish and unfair. He was soon to go into Auror training which meant he was going to be cut off from everyone while he followed his dreams - why couldn't Hermione do the same?
He was still debating with himself when Ginny brought up the idea of a friendly game of Quidditch, Ron quickly agreeing. Bill and Fleur had already gone, with both Charlie and George declining for various reasons. Harry jumped at the chance, knowing that flying would take his mind off of things plus it had been so long since he had flown for pure enjoyment.
Which meant they were one short. Ron started cajoling Hermione into playing and after a moment or two, Harry joined in. She reluctantly agreed and soon it was Ron and Ginny versus Harry and Hermione.
As soon as he was up in the air, Harry felt all his troubles fading away. Even on a borrowed broom, he was able to fly fast and easy. It wasn't long into the game, however, when he realised that Ron was still incredibly angry.
It was well known that Hermione hated to fly and usually that was taken into consideration whenever she joined in any flying activities. Today Ron wasn't being considerate at all. He kept forcing her into manoeuvres that were way beyond her capabilities, not really worrying about the game and instead he seemed more intent in upsetting Hermione.
But Harry was getting madder and madder at Ron and his attitude. He could see that Hermione was getting pretty upset and soon it wasn't fun anymore. He was just about to tell Ron to pull his head in and stop being such a prat, when he heard her scream.
Ron had just wound past her in a flashy move to get to the make-shift goal posts. In her attempt to stop him, she had lost balance, and now was falling from the skies. Harry didn't think twice as he sped towards her, working out how he was going to catch her in a way that didn't send them both plummeting to the ground.
He caught her mere metres from the earth, jumping off his broom and taking the impact of her body against his. She was shaking and sobbing in his arms - Harry was just livid.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he bellowed at Ron, who had quickly flown over to them, Ginny not far behind.
"Is she alright?" Ron asked frantically, "I didn't mean…is Hermione alright?"
"No, she isn't," Harry snapped, then said to Ginny, "thank your parents for a lovely meal, would you?"
And without further thought, he Apparated himself and Hermione home.
As soon as he stepped into the hallway of Grimmauld Place, he called for Kreacher, asking him to make a pot of tea and bring it to the drawing room. With Hermione still in his arms, he then Apparated there and gently placed her into her favourite chair.
"Hermione?" he ventured, brushing away some of her wayward hair out of her pale face, "Hermione, are you alright?"
"I hate flying," she sobbed, eyes downcast.
"I know."
"Ron's a git."
"A huge git," Harry agreed, smiling slightly when she did, though it soon died on his face, "are you alright?"
"Besides scared out of my wits," she said quietly, wiping her tears off her face, "and really quite embarrassed, I'm fine."
"Why are you embarrassed?" Harry asked, confused.
"Because you had to save me," she told him, looking at him briefly, then back at her hands in her lap.
"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," he nearly growled, making his way to one of the other chairs. "what Ron did was well out of order."
"He was pretty mad at me, wasn't he?"
"Yeah."
"How about you, Harry," she asked, once more looking at him, "are you mad at me too? You haven't said anything about my going to university."
"I'm not mad," he answered, thinking, "it's just that…I don't know. Last year I don't think we were ever apart and now I'm going off to Auror training and you'll be living with your parents in Oxford being a brilliant student, doing something that you'll love. It'll just be weird, I guess."
"I know," she admitted, "everything's…changing."
"What's really going on, Hermione?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence.
"What do you mean?"
"You told me two weeks ago that you were going to tell Ron that there's no chance for him and you," he told her straight, watching her every move, "why haven't you? He obviously still thinks you two are together."
"I don't know why," she grumped, "I've done absolutely nothing to encourage him. The stupid thing is, I think it's blatantly obvious that things between us will never work, that we want different things and that I could never give him what he wants. Yet he seems to think it's obvious that I know he fancies me and that we will one day marry and have babies. Honestly, is he really that dense?"
"That's a bit harsh, Hermione."
"Is it?" she sighed tiredly, wiping away the remnants of her tears, "the war is over, the funerals are over and everyone is starting to heal and get their lives back together. So then why am I pushing Ron away instead of starting to plan the future with him? I didn't tell him about my plans to study because I knew it would just start another argument and I don't want to argue anymore. We barely touch, we barely talk - how can he still think we're good together?"
"But you kissed him," he said after a moment.
"That was a lifetime ago, Harry," she slumped back into her chair, "a lot's happened since then."
Harry didn't say anything - she was right, a lot had happened since then. And although they were talking about the relationship, or lack thereof, between Ron and Hermione, Harry started to think about his own relationship with Ginny.
After his initial misgivings, he and Ginny had fallen back into dating easily. They did talk more, Ginny trying to understand what he had gone through during the Horcrux hunt, but Harry could tell she really had no idea. He listened as she talked about her year at Hogwarts and he felt an admiration for those who had been trapped there.
But she didn't know what it was like to be so hungry, you'd eat anything, or to hear your best friend tortured and not being able to help, or seeing a snake come out of the body of an old lady - the list was a long one.
Still, they were together and he found a small amount of comfort from her. She had been ecstatic when he told her he had enrolled into Auror training, and instead of it taking the normal three years, the course had been condensed into a year and a half. Which meant, as far as Ginny could see, they could get married sooner, as soon as he had finished training.
Even though he still had the dream about Kings Cross and seeing his children off to Hogwarts, Harry noticed there were starting to be subtle differences. Ron and Hermione bickered more, little Rose's appearance was changing and Ginny was more secondary - it seemed to be his and his children's story. As the weeks had progressed, the idea of marrying Ginny was getting less appealing.
Kreacher used the pause in their conversation to bring in the tea. Both Hermione and Harry accepted the drink gratefully and Harry used the distraction to ask about the courses she was taking at university. Hermione began to explain what she was going to do, her whole demeanour changing. She was excited and Harry was quickly caught up in her enthusiasm.
"It sounds brilliant, Hermione," Harry smiled at her, "how long have you been planning all of this?"
"Oh, ages," she admitted, "years even. I always wanted to carry on SPEW, but I realised I had been going about it all wrong. I knew I needed to learn about law and negotiation and diplomacy and all of that sort of thing before I could really make a difference.
"But it's grown from just house elves. I realise now there are so many wizarding creatures that have been given the rough end of the deal. While…while you were sleeping, I spoke to Professor McGonagall and she gave me some advice and helped me enrol into a Muggle university. She also was with me when I discussed with Mr Shacklebolt what I wanted to do and we worked out a sort of apprenticeship programme of sorts. They've both been brilliant."
"And Ron never knew?"
"He spent a lot of time with his family," she explained, "which I encouraged because that's where he needed to be. I asked the professor and Minister to keep my plan quiet so really only you were privy."
"But I was fast asleep…"
"Dreaming of marriage and children," she laughed.
"It's going to be strange, not having you around," he blurted out suddenly, frowning when she blushed.
"I'm sure you'll get through your essays just fine without my help," she tried to joke.
"It's more than just checking my homework," Harry countered, "it's just…you've always been there, through everything. Not even Ron can say that."
"I know."
"I'm going to miss you."
She looked up at him then, tears once more brimming in her eyes as she whispered, "I'm going to miss you too, Harry."
"Everything's changing," he scowled, slumping down further in his chair, "I'm not sure that I like it."
"It's inevitable though," she told him quietly, "we're growing up."
"I guess," he snorted.
"Can…can I give you some advice?" she asked, tentatively.
"I suppose," he shrugged, wondering what she was going to say.
"You need to start letting Ginny in."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," she continued patiently, "that when something big happens in your life, you shouldn't tell me or Ron first - you should tell Ginny."
"You and Ron are my best friends…"
"I know," she sighed deeply, "but Harry, Ginny's your girlfriend and she should take priority. Especially over me."
"I don't understand."
"It's your eighteenth birthday and you're here with me…"
"You fell off your broom!"
"I know, but Ginny won't see it like that," Hermione tried to explain, "she'll wonder why you didn't just drop me off and then head back to her. She doesn't want to share you, and to be frank, if I was her, I wouldn't want to share you either."
"So you think she'll make me choose between her and you?"
"She already has, Harry," she told him gently, "remember? After you cursed Malfoy…"
"Sectumsempra.."
"You chose her. Like you should."
"You and I didn't speak to each other," he thought out loud, then explained when Hermione looked at him, puzzled, "in my dream. You and I hardly even looked at each other."
"See, even your subconscious knows that's the way it needs to be," she smiled sadly.
"But I can't just turn my back on you!"
"Oh, you'll never lose me completely," she said, leaning forward so he would look at her, "the bond between us is too strong to ever completely sever. Even now with you going in one direction and me in another, if you need me, I'll be here in a heart beat."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you care so much?"
She leaned back in her chair and looked at him strangely. He could tell she was thinking and thinking hard, but he was prepared to wait. He was curious of her answer and he really didn't know why. All he knew was there was something missing in his life and somehow Hermione knew what it was. He saw she had resolved something as she took a deep breath, her eyes filled with tears once more.
"I was never going to tell you this, Harry," she started, "but you're right, everything's changing and already things have moved forward in ways that has altered the dynamic between us. My secret doesn't matter anymore. You knowing it won't have the impact that perhaps it might've had."
"I don't understand."
"Before I came to Hogwarts, I was pretty lonely," she continued, "I had no friends but that didn't matter - I had mum and dad and I had my books, I kept telling myself. When I found out I was a witch, I thought I could start afresh, reinvent myself and finally have the friendships I craved deep, deep down inside. But Hogwarts turned out like my primary school and once more I was the outcast and alone.
"Until you remembered me."
"The troll."
"Right, the troll," she paused, took a deep breath, then carried on, "from that moment on I made it a personal mission to help you in whatever way I could. In the beginning, it was a romantic ideal of loyalty - naïve and innocent in its simplicity. It wasn't really until the Tri-Wizards Tournament that I realised how fully I was committed to you. You had become everything to me, something I realised when I thought I'd lost you on the final task.
"The following year I tried to see if you felt the same way, but you fell for Cho. It hurt but I just made a new vow for myself that I would be the best friend I could be and support you in whatever way I could.
"Of course Cho was a disaster, but then came Ginny. I think I knew you fancied her long before you did. I decided then that I could make things work with Ron, I knew he liked me and I tried to tell myself that in time, I could like him back.
"It worked for a while, especially when he changed. I really thought I'd be able to give it a go.
"But then you died."
"I…I don't understand," Harry interrupted, his mind swirling with what she was saying.
"We were in the Hall, talking about what we were going to next but I wasn't really listening. You weren't there and something in me told me you had gone off and done something stupid. When Voldemort announced your death, part of me died along with you. When Hagrid carried you out of the forest and laid you down in front of us, I'm sure I heard my heart break.
"I knew then that I could never, ever love any boy…any man, the way I loved you. That pretending with Ron wasn't fair to him and that he deserved, deserves, so much more. I knew at that moment just how much you were part of my life.
"But then you didn't die, instead you came back bigger and stronger. As I sat by your bedside while you slept, thinking about what I was going to do next, I knew nothing had changed. I still loved you and I could never love Ron as much. And I knew you'd never love me back.
"I had thought about my future but as I sat there watching you, I knew what I needed to do. I had to let you go so you could find the happiness you deserve with the girl you love while I tried to find a way to get over you and have a life of my own. I knew I had to break away."
"So you're leaving because of me?"
"No, Harry," she smiled sadly, "I'm leaving because of me. I will always, always be your friend and there for you whenever you need me. But I need to find my own way, a way without you in it.
"Go to Ginny, talk to her, let her into your life - give her a chance. Let her be the most important girl to you, tell her your secrets, or problems or fears. That can't be me any more…"
"Hermione…"
"You are an incredible, wonderful man, Harry Potter," she whispered, cupping his cheek with her palm, "thank you for being such a wonderful friend."
With that, she abruptly stood and left the room - all before Harry could think. He was stunned - Hermione loved him! How could that be? It was always meant to be her and Ron and him and Ginny, just like the dream! He didn't understand.
How could Hermione love him?
A/N 2 - ah, my first bit of possible out of character-ness, let me know what you think. Also, total poetic license re Hermione's courses. I have no idea how long that degree would take, if she could take that type of course in Oxford and whether it really would help with SPEW and the ministry. Just sounded good in my head.