Learning to Be
A/N: Hello again! Chapter 4 is officially here! Wow, I haven't updated this in a while. I had a bit of a writer's block…but that's over. I admit that updating will be slow because I have a lot of other stories to update and need to deal with life. Hopefully you guys understand my dilemma.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed Sleeping; I love all of you! I'm so glad you guys liked it. And I also hope you will enjoy this chapter too
: )
Chapter 4
"Two!" Hermione exclaimed, panic quickly surfacing in her voice. She yanked the parchment out of Harry's hands and with quick, searching eyes, she frantically scanned the contents. Then she gasped and slammed the paper down onto the nearest table. "Then I have to cook something! Merlin, we don't have anything in this house!"
"What do you mean, Hermione? We just want shopping a few days ago," said Ron. Both of his best friends turned to glare at him. "Oh."
Hermione sighed fractiously. "Yes, Ron, we did go shopping but because we ate the last of our foods in the morning and because of the never ending well that you call your stomach-"
"-and your midnight snacks-
"-and your morning snacks-"
"-we have nothing," finished Hermione and Harry in unison.
Ron could only blink twice before shaking his head. He never understood how they did that. "Don't do that again."
Hermione glared at him. "Whatever. Now, I'm going to have to go to the grocery store and buy more food." She gestured to the kitchen and house in general. "And I'll have to clean everything!"
"We'll do it," Harry quickly volunteered. He didn't want Hermione to get too stressed. She didn't need it; living with him and Ron was enough of a stress.
Hermione's eyes softened once they rested on Harry. "You will?" Her friend nodded and she quickly broke out into a smile. "You're wonderful!"
"It's no big deal," Harry replied, coyly scratching the back of his neck. He was remembering last night's discussion. Hermione was quick to defend that Harry had helped her in some ways, but he was still not convinced. Besides, cleaning the house was not so hard. He did it all the time when he lived at the Dursleys'.
"Great," Ron grumbled, crossing his arms. That earned him Hermione's famous eye roll, but he was well immune to it and countered with his own.
"Okay," Harry interrupted, grabbing his redheaded friend's arm, only to have it yanked away, "you should go. I don't know how long it'll take to shop and cook. If you have any problems, just call me on the mobile."
Hermione quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek and smiled widely. "Of course. So, I'll get steak for Remus because he likes it a lot and-"
"-some appetizers and…oh! They, whoever 'they' may be, might stay for dinner too, so you'll probably have to buy for dinner too-"
"-oh, that's right. Good thinking, Harry." Hermione grabbed her keys and purse off from the kitchen table and scanned the room. "I think I have everything…alright, boys, I'm off."
The men of the house muttered quick goodbyes before watching their friend leave the room. They heard the loud sound of a door slamming, and once realizing they were alone, they both let out long sighs.
"Why, Harry, did you have to volunteer for cleaning?" Ron groaned, plopping down to a seat.
"Because I'm the noble hero who only cares about making a pretty girl smile," he replied with a straight face.
"And who's the pretty girl?"
Harry shot his friend a peevish glare. Was that how he felt about Hermione?
"I'm only kidding, Harry so you can stop with the death glares."
Once the two of them settled down with their obvious procrastination, they set to work.
They worked in silence for the better half of an hour. Truthfully, Ron and Harry didn't have a massive amount to clean; they just needed to straighten out a few things. Hermione was the one who forced them to limit their messes because she said that she was not to be a maid to two males. Ron had, of course, said something to set Hermione off after this, and the two had gone without talking for a good week. That had happened a few months ago.
Harry and Ron started cleaning in the living room. There were only a few scattered books on top of the coffee table (Hermione's) and some of Harry's required Auror outfits were draped on the couches. Overall, there wasn't much damage in need of repair.
"So…" Harry began, for the sake of conversation, "you guys just broke up like that?" he asked, busily pointing his wand to levitate a pile of clothes into the laundry basket. Actually, he didn't mean to ask that, but it was already on his mind. He glanced over at Ron who was fluffing the pillows on the sofa.
"Yeah…just like that," his friend answered briskly.
"Really?" Harry stopped trying to pretend that his question was casual and turned to face his friend.
"Yep."
"Why'd you break up?"
Ron shrugged nonchalantly, not seeming to mind the questions. "The arguments. The days of silence. We weren't as happy together as we were when we first started dating. So, we ended it. It's only natural, right? In fact, the days after our breakup have been my happiest."
"Oh…so you're not mad, angry, or regretful…or anything like that?" Harry asked.
"No." Ron laughed.
"How did Hermione act? Was she sad?" It was possible for her to hide her feelings, Harry thought. He knew she could do it.
"No, Harry. Why are you worried about this?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Hermione's fragile, I suppose."
Ron turned on him. "Hermione? Fragile! Harry, this is the girl who bloody punched Malfoy in third year!"
Harry countered exasperatedly, "Ron, she's also the girl who bawled in the girl's loo when a certain git called her some names. Twice." He was slightly satisfied when seeing his friend flinch. "Don't get me wrong. My Hermione is the strongest woman I know. But she has a more vulnerable side to her. You may not see her as someone who gets hurt easily but that's because she puts up a wall whenever the two of you fight. But I know, Ron, that every time you call her a name, a part of her feels like she's not worthy. But she is, Ron. Hermione's worthy of everything. She's smart, beautiful, and a great friend…and when you treat her as if she's not-"
"Alright, alright!" Ron finally said, interrupting Harry's lecture. He stared astonishingly at his friend who stared back at him just as surprised. "I didn't know you felt that way…"
Harry flushed; he didn't realize how much he had said. He turned away quickly, pretending to fix the table spread of the dining table. They had moved on to different rooms during their talk and were in the dining room that was also connected to the kitchen.
"Well, I've had a lot of thoughts in my life, but never got a chance to voice them."
"You can tell me now," Ron suggested, not sounding mean or anything. "We can multitask." He gestured to the chairs and sat down in one. With a flick of his wand and a muttered spell, the kitchen appliances flickered to life and scattered around, washing and rearranging themselves.
"Alright, now spit it out."
"Remember…when you left us?"
Harry didn't need to elaborate with his question because Ron remembered quite well.
"Yeah…yeah, I do. Of course."
"Hermione cried. Nonstop. You hurt her a lot. And I didn't like it one bit." Harry suddenly saw Hermione's vulnerable form as she was curled into a ball, sobbing quietly like she had wanted to hide from him. He heard her soft whimpers in his mind and realized just how much he hated hearing it…and also recognizing her cries as the one he sometimes dreamt about. The days after Ron's departure were still stuck in his memory. The two of them were cold and miserable, feeling rejected and abandoned by the person they had trusted the most.
"Harry, I-"
"I know that you were stressed, but we were too," said Harry loudly. "And I know that we weren't in the best positions during that time, but damnit, you left us out there as if you didn't care. You stormed out of our lives, not seeming to care about how much hurt you caused with your decision." Harry threw his hand down onto the table, shocking Ron with his show of emotion. Truthfully, he was speaking to Ron, but looking above his head. "Hermione cried as if she lost a part of her body. I felt…as if I had lost a brother." He didn't realize it, but his hands were curled into fists.
Ron sat across him, head down and thoroughly ashamed.
"Why did you leave, Ron? I need to find an honest answer," Harry pleaded, wanting to finally confront his friend and move on.
"I was jealous."
Harry didn't need to say anything to that; it was a well known but unspoken fact that Ron was always jealous of him. Jealousy had always been one of his defining characteristics. Harry supposed that it was because Ron came from a family of five boys and one girl with parents who tried to provide for each one of them. Ron never got the attention he really deserved and he may have believed that Harry always got it.
"I was jealous…of you and Hermione."
"Me?" Harry pointed to himself with a finger and Ron nodded. "And Hermione? What…do you mean-?"
"Yeah, in that way."
"Have you always felt that way?"
"Yes."
"And back then, you thought that me and Hermione were-"
"Yes."
"You're an idiot."
"Ye-oy!" Ron looked affronted.
Harry didn't care one bit. "Well, you walked away from us because you thought me and Hermione were having an 'affair' or whatever behind you back? That is a stupid reason! Besides, we wouldn't have had time to do anything since the three of us were always together."
"So you had the intent to be with Hermione-"
"Ron," Harry warned him. Ron held up his hands as if he was surrendering.
"Sorry…habit."
Ron sighed.
"Look, I've always been jealous of you. First because of your fame then your money then your attention from girls…"
"But you had girls look at you too," Harry interjected, hoping to steer Ron away from delving into the past again.
"Yeah, but only after they finished looking at you. I bet Lavender was one of them."
Ron stopped himself before he was able to spout out nonsense. He glanced awkwardly down at his hands. His friend was staring out into space, his lecture momentarily forgotten.
"Back then, I saw how you and Hermione were. Like your own little team. You never made her cry, she always seemed to worry about you, and you guys have this…thing!" Ron stopped. "I didn't it like it because I had always fancied Hermione and…and…
He shook his head. "But now I know I was being foolish."
"You must have had a lot to say, Harry. I never knew you were still thinking about the past, you know."
"I can't escape it, Ron. No matter how hard I try, I still remember our days in the cold, you walking out, Hermione being tortured…I guess…I guess the past still lives in me," Harry replied quietly.
"I'm sorry. Really, I am. I can't really say anything more to that because I'm just…really-"
"No. I had forgiven you a long time ago. It's a 'forgive and forget' thing."
"I don't think you can, Harry-you know, forget. Can you?"
"No," he finally answered, standing up from his seat. He stretched for a second then looked down at Ron who was watching him. "No, I can't. But it doesn't mean that you're not my best mate. It doesn't mean that I hate you. You're still Ron, my first friend."
Harry held out his hand as a sign of truce. Though he still felt as if his past was not done with him, he knew that he had settled things with Ron, and the latter seemed like he was truly sincere in his apologies. Ron wouldn't dare lie.
"Wait…"
He glanced up at Ron who was looking at his hand oddly. "What?"
"You said 'my' Hermione back there."
Huh, Harry thought, the git paid attention?
"No, I didn't," he lied, looking at Ron as he was crazy, but once he backtracked, he realized that he did say something along those lines. "You must have heard me wrong."
Ron smirked and suddenly looked like Fred or George Weasley.
"Right."
"Look, give me your bloody hand, or else I'll smack you," Harry lightly threatened. He surprised when Ron didn't take his hand, but instead, grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a…erm…manly hug. Harry was shocked at first; Ron wasn't usually a person to express his feelings through gestures.
"Maybe something did happen while I was asleep."
Ron and Harry sprang apart from each other as the other had leprosy.
Hermione was standing at the kitchen doorway with two brown bags of grocery in her arms. A few other bags magically floated behind her. The expression on her face could only be described as highly amused.
"That's not funny," Harry mumbled, grudgingly making his way over to her to help with the bags.
Hermione's melodious laugh reached his ears. "I'm only jesting, Harry."
"Alright, my Harry, I guess I'll leave you two to cook like slaves," Ron teased, stressing the "my" and smiling at him.
As the two watched their friend leave, Hermione said, "See, now that is why I doubt his sexual orientation and not yours. What was that about?"
Harry observed her for a moment while she was busy removing her stuff from the brown bags. There was a soft smile on her face as she hummed with her work. He could also see that she was counting the number of cans that she took out.
"Nothing. Ron's on a high, I suppose."
Harry quickly grabbed the cans of beans and moved across the kitchen to stack down in its cabinet. It was rather comforting for him to walk in his own space and know where he was supposed to put the stuff. He was just glad to help Hermione.
Hermione slid her hands together once she was done and then excitedly announced, "Alright, now take everything back out."
"What? Are you barking?"
"Harry, I need the stuff to cook."
"Then why didn't you just tell me to-"
"Harry," Hermione said warningly with her hands on her hip. "If you're too lazy to do it the Muggle way, then use magic."
Sending her a playful glare, Harry withdrew his wand and retrieved the items Hermione requested. He set it gently down in front of her; she smiled in return.
"Excellent. Now…I think…we're going to make some appetizers. Harry, bring out the cutting board and grab a few of those knives…"
After getting the kitchen equipment he needed, he settled at the center island with his produce. The two of them had agreed that they would set out a platter of vegetables and dip for an appetizer. They also had some bell peppers carrots, celeries, and broccolis set aside.
Hermione was sorting through the pots and pans that they kept in a separate cabinet. She was officially in charge of boiling a good amount of pasta. The dish they were going for was pasta with basil, tomato, and cheese--the main meal.
Hermione wound up the timer, set a pot of water onto the gas stove, and turned it on, leaning back slightly to avoid any flames. She had neatly set her ingredients aside and prepared them for use. The tomatoes were washed, the basil was fresh, and the cheese was grated.
That gave Hermione time to sit back and relax.
"So you talked to him, didn't you?" she asked, standing on the tips of her toes to watch Harry at work.
"I have no clue about what you are talking about, Ms. Granger," Harry quickly replied. He began to chop the bell peppers into thin sticks by rote-all the while trying not to hurt himself. Cutting closely always made him a bit nervous.
"You're like a book, Harry. And you know me; I'm a bibliophile."
Harry laughed. "I know." He set down his knife and turned so that he could lean against the center island. Chopping the produces suddenly became his second priority. Hermione faced him, resting both hands on either side of him. She was up close to him and would have been face to face to him if she were only a head taller. Harry could smell the light aroma of vanilla coming from her, and strangely, he felt content. "Yeah, I did talk to him."
"Harry, you didn't have to," Hermione said softly, shaking her head. Her curly hair brushed against his chin, and Harry was oddly tempted to laugh. It tickled.
Not realizing what he was doing, Harry brushed Hermione's hair aside and wrapped his arms around her waist. The two were now comfortably supporting each other.
He sighed.
"Actually, Hermione, it wasn't really for you. More like for me. I just had to find out, had to know that everything was finally settled and that you and Ron would be okay."
"They are. I can guarantee you that, Harry," said Hermione gently as she rested her head under Harry's chin. Her own arms reached behind his back and her hands were involuntarily stroking his spine. Harry suddenly moved, chuckling a bit.
"Tickles," he explained once seeing Hermione's humored expression.
"Well-noted," Hermione said, moving away from him. She turned her attention to the boiling water and carefully added some pasta, following up with two small pinches of salt. "So who do you think Remus is bringing?"
"I dunno…I'm betting they're wizards because I don't think Remus knows any muggles, right?"
Hermione shrugged. "We don't really know who Remus tags along with these days. But I guess they can be muggles too…after all, they're coming to meet us here."
"Is he going to bring Teddy? I haven't seen Teddy in such a long time."
"Oh yes, two days is just too long for you, Harry."
"What? I can't help it; the kid's too bloody cute to resist," said Harry as he was removing a platter from the cabinet. He had finished with all his cutting. "Plus, he needs some extra loving. With Tonks gone…"
They were both silent for moment. Tonks had died protecting Remus. They were both fighting Bellatrix Lestrange and Dolohov, respectively, but when Tonks saw a green beam burst from Dolohov's curse, she abandoned her duel, dashed across the battle field, and jumped in front of her husband. It was instinct for her to protect the person she loved the most. As a result, not one but two curses had hit her. The second curse was useless; she was already dead.
Remus had spent nearly three months after the war with his son being his only company. He was in mourning for the longest time; he truly loved Tonks. She was accepting, she was brilliant, and she was his lover and best friend. She was Teddy's mother. After enough time, though, Remus resurfaced in the world and for the first time in a long time, he appeared happy. The reason was Teddy.
"Teddy will be a spoiled wizard with you as his godfather," said Hermione with humor in her voice.
"I can't deny that," Harry said back, sending his friend a large smile.
The doorbell rang at that moment, and he quickly dropped his knife and apron.
"He's here!"
Hermione shook her head and pointed Harry away. "Go ahead, I'll finish with this; it's not much. You greet our guests, and then I'll fetch Ron and meet you."
"Great!" and Harry sprinted to the front of the room, yelling, "Coming!"
With a bit more force then necessary, he opened the front door.
"Hi," said a timid voice. Harry glanced down and saw that a little girl had rung the doorbell. He crouched down to her level.
"Hey there."
The girl, who had short brown hair and a cute flowery dress, took a small step back. "Hi." She nervously tucked a strand of her hair behind a tiny ear. There was no one following her so Harry reckoned she was lost.
"Umm...are you lost? Have you come to the right place?"
"Yes, sir. Dad said to come here."
"Oh. So where is your dad?" Did Harry know anyone who had a daughter? He didn't think so…
"Harry."
He probably spent a good minute scrutinizing the man who said his name. His voice was faintly familiar and Harry tried to remember where he had last heard the voice. The man didn't look recognizable. He was a bit tall and healthily skinny with some of muscle. His hair, though, was blond and Harry wanted to think of Malfoy, but of course, the man was definitely not Malfoy.
So who…?
"Hey, Big D!"
"Dudley!"
WAIT!
"D-Dudley?" Harry gasped, faintly wondering if his guess was even accurate. No, it couldn't be. Dudley was fat; this man was fit. Dudley would have pounded him; this man was standing awkwardly in front of him.
The girl Harry was talking to before ran to the man and quickly hid behind his legs. She was so small that she was actually hidden.
"Mary," Harry heard "Dudley" whisper as he tried to coax the girl out from hiding. Once seeing that his daughter refused to budge, the man sheepishly glanced at Harry.
"Sorry…um, yeah, it's me. Dudley Dursley."
Harry wondered if it was possible to die from shock. Because that was how he was feeling. His heart had stopped, all thought had ceased to run, and his eyes would not move away from the man who was apparently his former childhood bully and hateful cousin.
"Are you joking?" he finally managed to sputter…it was the only line he could think of.
"Um…no," came his cousin's nervous reply. "Uh…well, this is my daughter, Mary." Dudley had unattached himself from the girl behind his knees and pushed her up front. "Mary, say 'hi' to…Harry."
"Hello," the girl shyly said for the third time.
"Hello," Harry said in a daze. His eyes rested on the girl for a moment, but then focused back on Dudley. "Dudley…Merlin, you-you changed!"
Dudley awkwardly chuckled, digging his heel in the ground while his hands were kept in his trouser pockets. "Yeah…worked out and stuff…went to the university…married…"
"Married!" Harry yelped…yes, yelped. Never in his life had he ever imagined his gangbanging, spoiled cousin getting married to a…civilized woman!
"And with kids," Dudley interjected as a joke, but he stopped laughing when he saw his cousin looking like he was going to die. "Er…Harry?"
Harry shook his head, trying to get back to normal. Okay, so Dudley found him. Why? How? He was about to ask, but then he saw a pretty woman walking towards them.
And with the pretty woman was Remus.
"Ah, so you two have reunited," Harry's former professor said as he led the woman with a hand on her back.
"Remus, I expected you, but I didn't think you would bring Dudley and his…family!"
Remus chuckled and for a moment, he looked apologetic. "Sorry to surprise you like that, Harry. I just couldn't help it. Now are you done being shocked?
Harry, despite feeling a whirlwind of emotions, laughed and gestured towards his house. "Yes…now come on in, Remus…and you too, Dudley."
He glanced at his cousin and the shock came back when he saw him standing with his wife and daughter. They looked like a family…Harry quickly turned away because he would have continued to stare at them if not. He was uncomfortable enough.
He was in a daze as he stepped back into his house. Harry faintly felt himself sit down in the living room on one of the sofas. Everyone else sat across him; Mary sat between her parents.
"Remus!"
Hermione came in with her apron on and immediately hugged her former professor. Remus chuckled and patted her back.
The two separated, and Hermione went to sit down besides Harry. She noticed the three people sitting across her and immediately reached out a hand. "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger."
Dudley smiled apprehensively and did the same with his own hand. "Hello, I'm Dudley Dursley and this is my wife, Ally, and daughter Mary."
Harry watched Hermione as her smile was completely wiped from her face. She withdrew her hand before Dudley could even touch it, as if touching him would be poisonous. Hermione was one of the few who knew how Dudley and his old family had treated Harry.
"Dudley," Hermione curtly said as her way of greeting him. Dudley frowned, but he guessed why she was treating him so callously.
"Hermione," Harry gently said, grabbing her left hand. She turned and spoke to him with her eyes.
Why is he here?
Harry gestured to his cousin. He'll explain.
His friend raised an eyebrow. Better be a good explanation.
Harry smiled and squeezed Hermione's hand again.
Remus watched the exchange with a small smile while Dudley and his family waited awkwardly.
"So…uh, Dudley, what brings you here?"
Dudley grinned uneasily and answered, "Well, it's about Mary here."
Once seeing Harry glance at her, she grabbed her father's arm and tried, unsuccessfully, to hide again. Ally whispered something to her and encouragingly squeezed her daughter.
Harry, feeling a little sorry for her, tried his best to give an easy smile. "How old are you, Mary?"
The little girl hesitantly held up four little fingers.
"Four? Wow, you look very young for your age."
"That only works for older women, Harry," Hermione pointed out teasingly. Her friend rolled his eyes and feeling like it was needed, Harry stuck out his tongue.
Mary let out a small giggle.
"I'm glad you thought that was funny. Now, can you tell me why your father brought you here?"
"Daddy said I was a witch," the little girl whispered, her voice sounding quiet.
Harry and Hermione gave each other shocked glances and then looked over at Remus. The latter nodded slightly, confirming the fact as true.
"A witch? Wow, I didn't think you could even…" Harry trailed off. He was about to say how he never thought a person with Vernon's blood could ever have a magical child.
"Yeah, me too," Dudley said, oddly knowing what his cousin was thinking, "and me and Ally aren't even wizards…"
"Well," began Hermione matter-of-factly, "the parents don't have to be magical in order to have a magical child. For example, my parents are muggles-dentists, in fact-but I'm a witch. I'm what you would call a Muggle-born."
"My mum was too. But since she married my dad, who was a Pureblood, I'm considered as a Half-blood."
"Okay, so Muggle-born, Pureblood, and Half-blood…do you have a pen I can borrow?" Ally asked. The others smiled at the woman's confusion.
"Yeah, it's a lot to take in," Hermione sympathetically said. "When did Mary show signs of magic?"
"Uh, well, the other day a few bullies were teasing her at the park. Mary got mad or irritated and she froze one of them…"
Hermione nodded. "Accidental magic was what she did. It's very common for underage wizards and witches. I accidentally hexed a bully of mine when I was little and Harry here…well, you know what he did."
Harry glanced sheepishly away.
"What?" Ally inquired anxiously. "What did he do?"
"He blew up his Aunt Marge," Remus answered, humored. Mary giggled again, imagining her most hated aunt as the size of a hot balloon.
"Yes! I always hated that woman," Ally said, earning a grin from Harry.
"Same here. But accidental magic shouldn't happen. You can get in trouble for doing magic if you're underage."
"Will Mary get in trouble then?" Ally asked worriedly.
"She's extremely underage so the Ministry will just pass it off," assured Remus.
Harry took the time to observe the Dursley family again. Mary was the miniature image of Ally; she had the same short brown hair, the same nose, and the same perceptive eyes. However, Harry could see that she inherited the eyes from Dudley. Watching Dudley in front of him, looking so different, so much older…it made Harry feel as if everything had changed. It felt so odd to connect this Dudley to the old Dudley he remembered. The last time they had seen each other was when Harry had to leave with his escorts. The two of them had parted with a handshake, but the gesture hadn't completely explained the change of relationship between Harry and Dudley.
He hoped that he would see get an explanation as to why Dudley had reached out for his help.
And why Harry felt as if he needed to help Dudley and Mary.