Chapter 21 - Wanting the Impossible
Amidst the shrill ringing sound of the subway passenger assistance alarm, Harry looked around and noticed that the last subway car had emptied during the commotion. He quickly pocketed both phials and held on to them as he Disapparated just before the transit officers came.
In no time he was back in the alley where he and Andy had spent the night. Neither Andy nor Floyd's henchman was there. He called her on the phone.
"Where are you?"
"Still on his ass," she replied, "He's stopped at the docks near the end of Cherry Street. His cabin lights are on and it appears like he's picking his nose, disgusting pig. What about you?"
Harry told her.
"And Greasy?"
"He Disapparated on me in the subway," he replied, "One can only guess where he is right now. But I did find a phial of potion."
"THE potion?"
"I believe so," Harry could not think that it was not the same magic enabling potion Floyd took before he Disapparated. "I gotta run it up to the Lab to see what they find. I'll see about getting someone to take over for you."
"Harry."
There was something suddenly very odd about her voice.
"Yeah?"
He heard her sniffing.
"I smell something."
"What?"
"Shit!"
"What?!"
"I um…found Greasy."
"He's there?!"
"The slimy freak is right beside me."
Then the line went dead.
In a split second he Disapparated to where Cherry Street ended and had his wand drawn out. He didn't know exactly where she was but he hoped he was close. The sun wasn't up yet and there was an eerie silence in the darkness that made the small hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. He paused, trying to listen.
A distant sound of a revving car engine caught his attention and he saw a faint taillight speeding away about two hundred meters off to his left further up the shoreline. He ran towards its direction. On the single streetlamp in the vicinity, an almost used up light bulb flickered for the first time since he arrived and was struggling mightily to illuminate the surrounding area. He could barely see it but the Ministry issue Ford Taurus was there and its passenger cabin was empty. A sudden whiff of a familiar awful odour filled his senses. He needed more light.
Lumos!
He walked around and peered inside the car for a closer look, his wand lighting the way. A piece of paper was on the driver's seat.
For last night - Quid pro quo
Surely, Floyd wasn't so stupid so as to do anything to Andy. He wouldn't want the entire Toronto MLE out for his blood at this point in time. On the other hand, he was a cocky son of a hag. Really concerned now, he scanned the perimeter for signs of human life hopeful when he got a positive hit. If it was Andy, she was very close.
He walked around the car once more, stood at the back and opened the trunk. The horrible stench overwhelmed him and on impulse did the first thing that came to mind before staggering back.
"Scourgify!"
A literally petrified Andy was in the trunk, eyes ablaze, furious as even he had never seen before.
"Rennervate!"
The moment she regained control of her muscles she immediate got out of the compartment, ran off to the nearby streetlamp, and held it for support as she retched her gut out. He could certainly understand why. Thankful that at least she was physically okay, his eye caught sight of another note stuck on the inside on the trunk.
I felt generous. Next time, she won't be breathing.
As he glanced over to his partner who was cursing creatively in between the vomiting, he was certain that Floyd would eventually wish he wasn't so charitable.
XXXXXXXXXX
Dennis Creevey quickened his pace and glanced over his back to make sure no one was following him. He had just met with the Potion Master and dropped off more St. Mungo phials. He reported the Argus Filch incidence and got the reaction he expected. They had no choice on the matter. It would have to be done to keep the lid from blowing off before the Toronto conference. With the Healers milling around the miracle Squib, the only question was who would do it and when.
And there was the other matter.
He stopped, looked around and phoned Lestrange. He told her about Granger having an emergent need to be in Toronto and the possibility that she would not get any additional potion prior to Mexico. The matter of her trip to Mexico wasn't clear to him either.
Lestrange seemed unperturbed.
XXXXXXXXXX
Not a couple of hours later, Hermione stepped out of a cab and onto the curb in front of Harry's rented Toronto townhouse. The slow, agonizing beat of drums against her chest was deafening. Unbeknownst why, she was overcome with a sense of dread as she visualized herself talking to him. She was scared and no amount of pep talk was going to change that.
You have to do this.
Right.
Get it over with.
Sounds splendid.
Hermione found herself facing the door. She took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly.
Ding dong…
She waited. Maybe he wasn't home although the Auror at the Ministry said to try him here. She resisted an impulse to turn away. She wasn't about to give herself a way out of this too quickly.
Ding dong…
She heard muffled voices within. The door flung open but instead of Harry she found herself facing a tall, blonde woman with blue eyes and a confident air about her. She was also wearing what looked like men's clothes. Harry's?
Ouch…
"Hi. Can I help you?" the woman asked.
"I might be in the wrong place," she said, thinking that it was definitely possible that she was.
Or maybe she wasn't. Was she just stupid and blind to not consider that this could happen? The woman confirmed that she was.
"Are you Hermione?" she asked, seemingly excited, giving Hermione that same uncomfortable feeling that this woman knew more about her than she would have wanted.
"Um…yes," she replied.
"Come in," the woman ushered with enthusiasm, stepping aside, "He's just getting changed. This is unexpected."
It was definitely unforeseen. She didn't even think that this was a possibility and it was throwing her off. She needed to gather her thoughts and make sense of it before meeting him.
"I should really come back at a later time."
"Who is it, Andy?" Harry's voice flew towards them from deep within.
Too late. Best of luck.
"You're not going to believe this. It's Hermione," this 'Andy' replied back.
She heard the sound of footsteps drawing near. It seemed from his reply that this, that she, was an ongoing joke between them.
"I swear to Merlin your pink knickers and a copy of Canadian Witch Has-beens will find its way on the Ministry announcement board if you're making fun of …" he swung the door, opening it wider and saw her, "…me. Hermione…"
"Harry," she heard somebody say his name.
Hermione was certain it was mere perception that they stood there frozen for quite some time. The sight of him siphoned the remaining air in her lungs and amplified the deafening sound of the beating in her chest. She missed him, no doubt. She missed seeing his untamed black hair, his warm green eyes, his mouth with that roguish smile and even the faint scar on his forehead that distinguished him from everyone else. She missed the playfulness in his voice that she just heard right now and the mischief in the look that he just gave the woman who answered the door.
This was why she wasn't ready. She still wanted to be with him, needed to be with him despite knowing that she couldn't possibly be happy with him.
He put on the dark green sweater he was about to before he came to answer the door. He must have just stepped out of the shower.
"This is a surprise," he said, it obviously was for him.
Harry seemed more curious than happy about her showing up unexpectedly at his doorstep. She preferred it this way, to come unannounced. She did not want him prepared for their meeting. The less time he had thinking about what to say to her, the less time it would take her to do what she had to do, the less possibility of her needing medical attention for inability to breath. Focus. This is Order business.
"I was at the Ministry and they said I might find you here. I should have called," she glanced over to the tall blonde woman, in apology. "If this is a bad time, I…"
He interrupted her mid-speech, shaking his head, "No, it's not. We were just on our way out."
'We' came out so naturally and spontaneously they must have been together for quite some time. He was joshing her about 'pink' knickers and she was in his clothes. He had finally found someone to do that with.
This was really good. He had closure and they wouldn't have to do that part of the talk. Yes, she loved him, but like twice before she could move on, knowing there would be no resistance from him. Just what the Healer ordered, a definite conclusion. It was something that should have happened at Hogwarts.
"I'm Andy, by the way, Andy Marsh. Harry has told me a lot about you. I'm his partner."
"I see," was all she could muster to say as she ignored the green tinge that the surrounding seemed to acquire each time the blonde woman spoke.
They politely shook hands. Meeting Harry Potter girlfriends was not a great experience and this time she distanced herself, not judging this one's suitability to her former best friend, not thinking how good enough she was for him. It was far too painful to go trek down that path this time around.
"She's an Auror, too. We work together," Harry explained.
Why he would think that she actually wanted to know that was beyond her.
"My condolences," Hermione turned to her and said.
The remark was an attempt at humour, taking a page from Ron's how-to-disperse-pain-and-awkwardness book.
"Thanks for empathizing with my misery," she replied, chuckling.
At least she had a sense of humour. It was a good time to shift to more relevant matters.
"The Order sent me. I need a few minutes of your time."
"The Order sent you?" Harry asked her.
"Yes."
Harry started laughing hysterically; irritatingly hysterically. What was so comical?! She felt her face flush but recognizing beforehand how this, him provoking not so neutral emotions from within her, could happen, she willed herself to focus for a little while longer. She needed a simple answer if she could only hold on to her wits long enough to ask the question.
"The Order sent you?!" he repeated.
"I'll report back that at least one of us finds that amusing," she remarked sarcastically hoping to convey her displeasure.
"The Order sent her!" he said to his partner.
Andy laughed with him, a bit more contained, "I know it seems very funny right now but I think you should stop saying that. You look like you're losing it."
"I hope he takes something for this," she addressed her.
She was half-serious and half-insulting, unaware of what Harry's mental state and health was over the past year. Any good partner should know. Hermione noticed that she had transformed Harry's clothes to a more feminine version.
"He's normally morose and depressing. This is quite an interesting side of him that I haven't seen before," Andy replied and then turned to Harry, "Don't rush. I'll see you at the Ministry."
Hermione stepped into his house and he shut the door, his inability to control the enjoyment he was experiencing annoying her no end. Not knowing the reason for his shared amusement with his 'partner' was disconcerting but she would never ask him why even if that was the last burning subject she had on her mind.
He led her into his living room and helped her out of her coat. A couch, centre table, a telly, a bookcase with generic literature. Except for some very healthy plants near the window, it was plain, impersonal, nothing to indicate who or what kind of person lived in the house. Curious, it even looked like it was space barely lived in. The plants were definitely not 'him'. They were greener than normal as she thought that maybe they crashed Andy's place more often.
"You just don't know how funny it is you showing up after all that's been happening since yesterday," that would be the old Harry trying to share a joke.
"I don't really care what you and your partner do to keep yourselves entertained," Hermione replied, wishing it came across as more indifferent than sarcastic. She was having trouble not making it personal. "I'm just here to ask you a question."
She settled as close to the entrance and as far away from Harry as she could. She wondered about Apparition wards and planned for the quickest exit route in case there was fire. The laughter and smile on Harry's face finally disappeared.
"Tea?" he offered.
She shook her head. Firewhiskey.
"Coffee?"
"No, thanks." Lots of it.
"Have a seat."
"I won't be staying long."
She had no intention to. It was uncomfortable, them talking so distant, physically and emotionally.
"Are you here for the research conference?"
"No, I came just for this."
"For the Order."
"Yes."
"To convince me to come back to London."
"Yes."
"I gave them my answer, twice. And still they send you."
"The situation is desperate."
"I can see that, but considering you won't even open my letters, I find it hard to believe that you're desperate to have me back in London, too."
He was right. 'Desperate' would not be the word to describe her feelings about having him back in London. Conflicted, maybe. Chaotic seemed right.
"My personal preferences take a backseat to the greater good," she replied, remembering how she was taking one for the team.
She certainly learned her lesson when she didn't choose the greater good the last time she was in Toronto.
"I see," he answered and continued, seriously, "I'm not sure if I should be flattered that I'm important enough for you to come or insulted that you did."
"I stopped trying to figure out how you felt a long time ago," that would be last year when she found out he was Roy Hunt, "I can't help you with that."
"You know why they want me back," he had this tone; he was upset.
"We need to get more witches and wizards involved in the Order. You know the balance has always been tenuous at best. We can't lose what we've fought so hard for," she replied, doing what she said she would, make a best effort to get him to agree to come back.
Out of the blue, Harry startled her with an impassionate diatribe against the Order.
"Why can't they just leave me alone?! All they want is a poster boy! And it will be like Cannon Quidditch all over again. I'm just so disappointed that you agreed to come because you of all people should know I'm done doing that!"
Hermione was taken aback by what he said but met his fiery gaze in kind. He was disappointed? In her?! He made it sound as if she was selling her soul to come and convince him to go home! That because she knew that after his experience with Quidditch he wouldn't want to be their poster boy for recruitment, it was a crime to try and do as the Order asked!
Unable to hold back, she said icily, "I do know and I told them. I told them that you are not the same person ten years ago. That you're not the fifteen-year-old kid they remember who wanted to be a member of the Order even before you could be. That you're not the same man who saved Wizardom from Voldemort, risked life and all that was important to you because you believed in what you were fighting for."
"What I did not tell them was that you're now a selfish fool who would have no qualms about hurting people who care about you and that there was no one more important to you than yourself. I said I would go, do my best to persuade you to come, but I did not tell them how happy I would be if you said 'no'. Because if you said 'yes', I would have to bear the burden of guilt thinking about all those people who will risk all that they have, their lives, their families, their future, believing in someone who was not worthy of the trust they were going to give him!"
He did not answer, the rage in him had obviously subsided and it was now mixed with palpable annoyance and obvious hurt. She had thought that for a long time but never said it to his face. She never had the heart to point it out, hoping that if she didn't it wasn't true. His inability to come up with a rebuttal said it all.
Tears were streaming quietly down her cheeks, crying for the loss of a good man, a man she once knew. She walked towards the front door, stopped right beside him, and without looking at him, said one more truth that she just couldn't keep to herself anymore.
"You're going to be a poster boy because you will choose to be one. It will be sad when you do. I don't believe you were ever one before."
As she walked towards the door, she brushed the wetness off her face and gritted her teeth to stem the dam from breaking and further flooding Harry's living room floor. It was a lot to say to someone she never wanted to hurt, someone she would fiercely protect against being hurt, someone she cared about, the one man she loved. It hurt her to hurt him. The rest of the conversation would have to be put on hold after she got herself together. And if that didn't happen within the day she would not be surprised.
"Wait!"
She stopped, mostly a reflex to his request. He had that power over her. Without looking back she could feel him approach. He settled in front of her, so disconcertingly close they were breathing the same air.
In her mind she begged in silence, Please, don't make me hurt you more than I already have.
He stood there and didn't say anything until she looked up and met his enquiring gaze.
"Do you want me back?" he asked her, softly, almost a whisper, with an evident desperation for the truth.
It was a question that meant more than the five words he put together and she quickly looked away because the answer would have been so obvious. She was not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing the truth and have him play her like he did the last time.
To want him was one thing but to be with him was just not possible.