A/N. I loved the responses to the question last time. They were very interesting to read.
In this chapter Hermione faces the demons that haunt her. It's mostly internal dialogue about Harry.
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Chapter 25 - Delusions of the Fairy Tale Kind
9 February 2003
The Boeing 747 touched down at Heathrow that gloomy Sunday afternoon, its tires screeching against the rain soaked landing strip as it braked and rapidly decelerrated. Overhead the pilot redundantly announced what his passengers already knew and welcomed them to London. Hermione felt good to be back.
The suspension had been a blessing in disguise. One week in Perth living all Muggle with her parents was just what she needed. It gave her perspective of who she was, where she was and what she was capable of, renewing in her a sense of purpose, or more accurately, the desire to search for her place in Post War Magical London. Armed with the inspiration, she was eager to report back to work.
Hermione couldn't wait to get off the plane. It had been a long trip and she no longer had the patience for it. The Muggle style commute was really for her parents for e.ven though they accepted she was a witch, they never became comfortable with the ways of the Magical world.
The 'normalcy' was the least she could do for them. She still felt guilty that she altered their memories and gave them new identities to protect them at the height of Voldemort's power five years ago even though it was the right thing to do. After she reversed the memory charms, her Dad had been very upset (more so than her Mum) when he remembered what she did.
The way her Dad saw it she could have done things differently. For once she could have listened. She could have listened to him when he told her not to go back. She tried to explain that she couldn't just leave, that Harry needed help and that she and Ron were the only ones who could. They had a big argument and when her Dad threatened to confront Harry about 'not taking her along to his death' she used magic on them. It had been her every intention to persuade them and get their blessing but unfortunately things didn't turn out as she hoped and she had to do what she had to do.
Five years later, with her Mum's continued intervention, things between her and her Dad were better but not totally back to the way they were. Her father continued to harbour a grudge against the world she had chosen to be a part of, the way of life that she had risked all for and the man he saw as the reason why she stayed. Needless to say she didn't go into detail about what happened and how they won the war. It hurt that he blamed Harry but there was no point arguing with him about that. And when she told them she had signed up to join the Auror office, he looked at her with disappointment and shook his head without saying a word. Her Dad thought she was doing it for Harry too.
At that time she was steadfast in her belief that her father was wrong. Harry championed what was right; he represented what was good. That was why she stood by him. Joining the Auror Office was a way to protect what they had fought so hard for and what many died for.. But the more she thought about it the more muddled the picture became for her. Even she, his best friend who knew him better than anyone else, had difficulty separating Harry the person from Harry the icon. It was his pure heart that made him both the man and the symbol of good that he was. Would she have stayed to fight to her death had it been someone else?
She looked out the window and watched the plane slowly make its way towards the arrival terminal. Harry was in there somewhere, waiting for her. She sighed involuntarily. The idleness of her mind during the past few days easily filled up with thoughts about her somewhat changed friend and about how she felt about him now. She missed him way more than she should have considering she had only been gone for a few days.
Come to think of it she wasn't supposed to miss him at all. They spoke everyday she was away. Before she left he made her promise that she would call him.
"If I don't hear from you I'm going to come and see how you are," he said like he meant business.
"This is ridiculous, Harry," she protested, "It's only a seven days. Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Actually, no. I'm off for the week too," his eyes suddenly brightened up as he had an idea, "I can come with you."
That wasn't an option. Seven days with this doting, caring Harry was not a good idea. And she couldn't imagine that her father would behave himself. There was nothing to gain by making Harry aware that her father was unenthused by their friendship.
"No, I'll call you," she gave in to the lesser of two evils.
"Everyday," he added..
Her brows merged into one and before she could stop herself blurted out, "You do know you're acting worse than an overprotective boyfriend, right?"
Harry laughed then; he must have thought she was kidding and she didn't have the heart to tell him she wasn't. She knew why he was doing it. She would let him be the 'better' friend he wanted to be but while a part of her was appreciative, a part of her wished he would go back to the way he was.
The truth was the attention he was giving her was very deleterious to her mental health. She wasn't used to him being like this and it resurrected an old buried emotion she thought was thoroughly dead.
The time with her parents in Perth was great but it was the time with herself that was even more important. In Perth she had come to a better understanding of who Harry was to her and why this change in his attitude towards her bothered her so much.
She began where they started. He was her first real friend; the first one who was able to look past the annoying aspects of her that had made her an outcast and accepted her for who she was. And as an eleven year old girl being saved from a fully grown troll she swore allegiance to the boy for the rest of her life, not that she announced it for fear it would freak him out
He was a hero to her long before he was a hero to the wizarding world. Just with that one defining moment she knew in her heart he was the real deal and the knowledge made her stand by him time and time again when others doubted his character and his intentions. Loyalty, gratitude and admiration drew her to him.
And she cared about him as any good friend would. She saw up close what he went through and it was hard not to feel for him when his life had been one tragedy after another. It was hard not to want things to get better for him; for him to be happy.
It was also hard not to notice the glaringly apparent; he was fanciable. Of course she had a crush on him (and a few other boys), she was after all normal in that way. She rationalized then that there was nothing wrong with having a crush on her best friend especially since almost every girl she knew had one on him. For her it had never been so much about his looks. Okay, who was she kidding? In her opinion he was the best looking boy on her list. But really, his unassuming way and his inability to resist trying to save people were the two things about him that she found most appealing. She still did.
However the thought of acting on it while they were at Hogwarts never crossed her mind. She recalled thinking she would rather die than be like the others, all but throwing themselves at him. She remembered thinking she was better than that. And besides, the boy had a murderous Dark wizard to get off his back. He didn't have time for teenage romance.
It turned out that he did. Setting priorities had never been one of Harry's strengths. That was when she got hurt. That was when she first realized she wanted him to be more than what he was to her. It was agonizing when he became interested in someone else, when he kissed that someone else and when he kissed someone else after getting over the previous someone else. Why them? Why not her?
Confused she wasn't sure what to make of it. She did some research and compared what she was feeling with what the books said and then immediately declared, with relief, that she didn't love him. Love was associated with wonderful and euphoric emotions; what she was feeling was nothing like that. She was delusional, jealous and even arrogant, upset that Harry not only fell in love without her knowledge, he didn't fall in love with her.
And she blamed it all on the fairy tales she grew up reading. What was it about them and wanting to be that princess or that damsel in distress who gets swept off her feet and gets to spend the rest of her life happily ever after with her prince or hero? Why didn't anyone ever write memorable stories about the fact that not everyone would get to play princess or damsels-in-distress, that princes and heroes were scarce and that it was perfectly okay for plain girls like her to not end up with one of them?
It wasn't easy but she got out of the fairy tale delusion that her hero would fall in love with her. Fairy tales were just that. Fairy tales. They didn't happen in real life, especially not to someone like her. Surely if Harry found her remotely attractive just by the amount of time they spent together he would have done something to let her know by then. And he wouldn't have fallen in love with someone else.
The alternative to perpetuating the delusion was horrifying. It was revolting to think of being that ex-friend who went vindictive, possessive and crazy jealous, and she swore at a young age never to be that girl who would chase after an uninterested boy. With that in mind she was able to put the emotional blip behind her and brushed it off as normal for the average teenage girl. It was one of those awkward teen moments Obliviation must have been designed for.
And she was happy for Harry that he had found Ginny, happy for him that he fell in love before he died, which back then was a big deal considering how his mortality was being tested so often. And seeing him happy made her happy. She wanted him to be happy like that for the rest of his life. She hoped she could be that person for him but she knew Ginny loved him and that was enough. She loved him that way.
As she thought that back in Perth it hit her. She loved him that way. She had always loved him that way; with that irrational compulsive do-whatever-she-can-to-help-him-survive-and-be-ultimately-happy kind of way. For years without even thinking it that had been her life, not because he asked it of her but because she wanted it to be, because if anyone deserved to be happy it would be him. While Harry had this 'saving people thing' she had this 'helping Harry be happy thing'. It had been premature to conclude she didn't love Harry just because the books said so.
It wasn't her intention to fall for him. Everyone fell for the hero and she didn't want to be like everyone. But at some point in the time they spent with each other she did. How could she not?
Hermione found it curious but not entirely surprising that all this time she had been content to be his friend and that she could be content to be his friend. That was how he needed her to be and she was good where she was. She had accepted that he would never look at her that way and that he would never need her that way. It was likely the contentment that kept her sane and protected her from the despair of knowing he didn't love her back.
Knowing this now some things were more clear.
First, the Hag and her Dad were somewhat right about her motivation for joining the Auror office. While working at the DPMC she missed helping Harry; she missed being needed by him and she missed being around him. Dysfunctional as it was it was the emptiness, the hollowness in purpose that drove her to make that career decision. She had to fix this but didn't quite know how yet.
Second, her relationship with Ron had been doomed from the start It was difficult not to notice how much less of herself she could willingly give up for Ron when she would give up everything for Harry. Even her usually insensitive ex got it right that she chose Harry over him and would do so if push came to shove.
That was what happened that rainy night they were on the run and looking for Voldemort's Horcruxes, when she shielded herself and Harry from Ron who wasn't quite himself. The reflexive decision proved that third, she couldn't leave Harry when he needed her; not for Ron, not for her parents, and probably not for anyone including herself.
When Voldemort died Harry survived and got his girl back. Things were perfect and she was no longer needed so it was quite natural for her to step back. But now things were different. The reason for her discomfort with the current state of their friendship was that she was afraid she would cross the line. She had been feeling lonely since her break up with Ron and he was as unattached as she was now. It didn't help that Ginny was foolishly messing around with a good thing and was now living in Holyhead. Encouraged by Harry's attentiveness, her delusion was making a come back big time and there was an overwhelming temptation to live her fairy tale and to seize the opportunity for her own happily ever after.
Last week at the Bat Cave her guard was down and she slipped. For a brief moment that night there was just Harry pressing his mouth against hers and she kissed him back the way she had imagined she would many times in the past. The rest of the world around them dissolved into nothingness. For a few seconds it was very real to her, that her hero, the man who saved her life many times and whose decency and character she admired, desired her, that he wanted her that way. And the worst part of this particular delusional backslide was that he didn't even have to love her. She would take whatever it was that he could give even if it was less than what she wanted.
Unconditional and forever.
Everyday since her return she could feel herself falling for him even more. She could feel herself losing rational thinking, losing control. She had come a long way from deluding herself it was possible and she couldn't let herself be that stupid again.
Nothing had changed. He still wasn't interested and she still didn't want to be that girl who pined after someone who wasn't. She wasn't an idiot to want to suffer like that.
Miffed at herself for the future she had sentenced herself to, she hung onto hope that she was wrong. Maybe it wouldn't be forever. If only he'd stop his mission to be a better friend and got back with Ginny already this would be so much easier on her.
Closing her eyes, she reminded herself, "He's just a friend and you're not in a fairy tale."
The plane had finally halted at the terminal and speaking beside her. The chatty Australian couple she sat with during the flight, the Allmans, thanked her for her company and for giving them a Londoner's overview of where to go, what to see and what to do. She wished them a safe and enjoyable stay, grabbed her one carry-on and was the first person off the plane when the door opened.
Always with this knack of spotting him easily in a crowd, Hermione saw Harry the second she stepped into the gate. He smiled and waved; she did the same. A girl could get used to this.
"You really didn't have to do this," she said to him when they were close enough.
He leaned forward and met her with a hug. It was only good manners to do the same. He was warm, comforting and his freshly showered scent invoked fluttering in her chest and stomach. Their mutual embraces of late felt better compared to past ones; at least they did to her. She figured that was part of the delusion.
Note to self...must refrain from unnecessary physical contact.
"Don't you ruin this for me," Harry admonished jokingly, "I've never picked anyone up from the airport before. How was the flight?"
"Uneventful," her voice got caught in her throat as she kind of forgot to breathe and had to disentangle herself from him.
Oh get a life. You've done this a gazillion times without even thinking about it.
She must have frowned.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
"Yes, other than this fairy tale nightmare."
Did she just say that out loud?
"Fairy tale nightmare?"
Great. The filters were off again.
She shook her head, dismissing his query, "I um...fell asleep on the plane. It's a long story. How are you?"
"I'm okay. And you?" he enquired with that worried look she remembered from that night she made a total fool of herself.
"Much better," she really did.
"Good," he nodded, "How's your Dad?"
"Still unwell. He's having more tests," she replied. Her Dad had been nursing a cough for weeks and she and her Mum had finally coaxed him to see a doctor, "How are things here?
"Not as interesting without rogue law enforcement running around," he jested.
She replied something to the effect that he shouldn't encourage her bad side. While they waited for her checked luggage they chatted about the mundane and the not so mundane; the weather in Perth, her one disasterous excursion on a surf board with her Dad the last day she was there, her Mum telling her they were planning a trip home in a couple of months. In no time they were in the car park, Harry seemingly content with keeping up with this Muggle charade, a welcome break from magic, he said. He helped her into the passenger seat of his new car, a pewter coloured Aston Martin DBS, a gorgeous piece of metal that Hermione thought was an excess. Over the time she was away he had developed an attachment to fast expensive cars, which Hermione rationalized was better than fast brooms.
Hermione squirmed in her seat, finding it mentally uncomfortable like she didn't belong while Harry disappeared behind the car, magically created trunk space and stowed her bags. Another deep breath in and out later, Harry was beside her and was driving them out of the car park. She'd have to admit that seeing him now she couldn't imagine him driving a lesser vehicle anymore unless he had to.
Harry was thankfully oblivious to her assessments and discomfort. He updated her about work. John had announced his retirement at end of the year and the politicians were jockeying for position. They talked about that for a while, about Humptail being the likely successor, about how Kingsley had hoped John could stay longer so there would be someone else, about Harry needing more experience before he could be that person. He asked her to look into joining a couple of Ministry committees he thought she should get involved in and told her Gates was unexpectedly reassigned to Southeast Asia.
"Some wizard from the IMP legal department did a random audit and found his transfer papers inadequate," he glanced over to her, "You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"
She put forth the best offended reaction she could muster, "Harry, Gates was a childish prick. Do you really think I would stoop down to his level?"
Hermione was way too pleased to pull it off. His reply was a chastising look.
"Fine, so I did stoop and called in a favour from my IMP contact," she admitted to the deed.
"You cost me a partner," Harry scolded her light-heartedly.
"You're better off," she recognized that he wasn't really upset.
"He was livid."
"Good," she answered, the fact that Gates was brought enormous satisfaction.
She glanced at his speedometer. He was going twenty over.
Harry continued, "He spoke with Dean and talked him out of transfering to the Aussie Auror office."
"Gates did what?"
Harry missed their turn onto Foxtrot Avenue and didn't seem perturbed he was heading past the Ministry flats.
"He told Dean to consider the IMP. It was a good suggestion."
It was. With the IMP Dean would be able to move residency more easily whenever Luna did and still maintain seniority. But she would lose a partner.
"What did Dean say?"
"I hooked him up with the IMP recruitment officer," Harry answered. "He's looking into it."
It bugged her that Dean was. It bugged her that it bugged her too much.
"Where are we going?" she finally asked and a smirk formed on Harry's face.
"I thought you'd never notice," he replied mischievously, "I found you a place."
"You found me a place," she repeated slowly.
"Yes."
"A place to live in?"
"It's not quite ready yet but eventually yes. I just wanted to show it to you right away."
"Harry…"
"It's new, in London…" he said with a glint in his eye.
"You didn't have to do this."
"I know but just have a look. My realtor brought it up and I thought of you," he seemed to think that was a perfectly reasonable explanation. "No pressure. If you don't like it I promise I won't be offended."
He obviously spent time and effort on it. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. So, he thought of her...
Note to self...don't give yourself an aneurysm hanging onto his every word.
"Okay, I'll have a look but no promises."
Harry abruptly pulled over the curb.
"I do need you blindfolded for a short period of time," he said then added quickly as she was about to object, "Just humour me."
"This better be worth it," she gave in and he jinxed her with a magical blindfold before she could change her mind.
They were moving again, seemingly faster than before. He was going way over the city speed limits. She thought of something else to keep her mind off it.
"Is this place for sale?" she asked.
"Um, it's not on the market yet."
"How big is it?"
"Bigger than the flat you're in, smaller than the Burrow."
That narrowed it down. He obviously shouldn't quit his day job.
"What's the neighbourhood like?"
"It's not in a ghetto."
"That's reassuring," she remarked dryly.
"Enough questions, you'll ruin the surprise."
They had stopped. He helped her get out of the car and had her hold onto his arm, his hand over her hand like he was leading someone blind. He warned her they were Disapparating Side Along and after confirming her readiness felt the familiar sensation associated with it. Harry lifted the blindfold as soon as they arrived.
She was standing just inside the entrance and was looking at a brightly lit unfurnished open room. There was something hauntingly familiar about it that hit her instantly but she couldn't tell what. Scanning from her left her attention was drawn by the generous bay and bow window that overlooked the street and the polished and glistening hardwood floors that complemented the intricate wooden mouldings lining the edges of the ceilings, walls and floor. There was a fireplace and off on the other end, double swinging doors that led to a kitchen in the back. A staircase that went to the upper levels was right next to it.
As she took the sight in Harry informed her, "It's got a quaint backyard, three bedrooms on the second level, a balcony coming off the master bedroom and an attic. It's not immediately livable but it has potential and you can fix it up the way you want it."
Her imagination had already taken off on her. Without seeing the rest of it she could already picture herself coming through the doors, seeing this, furnished as she had imagined it to be her place. She could not contain her excitement.
"This is amazing Harry!"
"You like it?" he was not sure if she was serious.
"I love it!" she erased his doubts, "Wait, how much is it?"
"You can have it."
"What?"
"I did intend to put it on the market but I can't sell it to you. That would be too weird."
"This is yours?"
It suddenly dawned on her where they were.
"We're on Grimmauld!" she exclaimed even more excited that they were.
Harry thought she was changing her mind, "I understand why living here would creep you out."
It would have had she not seen the place. The blindfold was definitely worth it.
Hermione asked her one concern, "Are there residual dark magical forces here leftover from the Blacks?"
"I was assured there wouldn't be," he answered tentatively.
"Then I wouldn't mind living here," she told him sincerely.
"Really?"
"Except I can't live here for free."
"Sure you can," he responded.
"I can't Harry. Come to think of it I probably can't afford it even if I wanted to buy it."
"Don't be ridiculous…"
"Give me your phone," she already had it in her hand, "What's your realtor's name?"
He was not being practical about this. She had to speak with someone who would be.
"Benjamin. But seriously, I'd rather you have it than me selling it to someone else..."
"Benjamin? Hi. You don't know me. I'm a friend of Harry's and he's showing me Number 12 Grimmauld Place. What's his asking price for it? I want fair market value. Thanks," she hung up, gave Harry his phone back, and coaxed him out, "Come on, let's go."
"No, let's work something out," he pulled her back by the hand.
Even with the simplest of math she figured it wasn't going to work. She had some money but not the kind of money to buy the place and be able to eat three meals a day. And there was no way she was asking her parents for a loan.
"Listen to me, Harry. I can't afford this."
"I'll sell it to you at price of construction."
He must have no concept of limits on money, "I still can't afford it. The interest on the mortgage alone…"
"Forget interest."
"Harry…"
"I'll loan you the money, you can pay me when you can, with cost of inflation if you insist but no more than that," Harry proposed.
Was he crazy?
"That doesn't make business sense."
He shrugged, "So what? It's my money."
"Which you should take better care of. I don't need your charity, Harry."
"This is not charity. I know you're good for it and I have more money than I can use in three lifetimes. I want to help my friends without whom I wouldn't be around to enjoy all this anyway," he reasoned.
"But you just helped Seamus out and I know Ron's place up north is technically ninety per cent yours," Hermione pointed out.
"It's not totally without advantages. I think of them as investments. This way if my luck runs out I won't ever be homeless," he was really almost begging her to take it. This picture wasn't right, "Why do you find it so hard to accept anything from me?"
"This is too much, Harry," it was a very tempting offer, "I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you."
"That's a load of rubbish and you know it," he was very serious, "It's only money."
She was waffling and had to verbally scold herself, "I can't believe I'm even considering this."
"I'll ask someone to draw up the papers tomorrow," Harry knew she was caving in and grinned from ear to ear.
Hermione emphasized, "I am paying you every cent."
"Of course you are."
He showed her the rest of the place and by the end she was in love with it. They were bouncing ideas off each other. He knew of a great place to get affordable furniture and volunteered to help her put her ideas in action.
Before they left she took another look at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It felt nothing like the gloomy former headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix but there was history here that it would have been a tragedy if it ended up belonging to someone else . She was excited. This was going to be hers. Her very own place. Well, hers and Harry's until she could pay him off.
The next day she was still high from all the excitement she found it hard to concentrate. Even the call from Dean that he was going to spend a couple weeks shadowing a friend of Gates' who worked with the IMP didn't rain on her parade.
"Hermione," John called from his office door and signalled her in.
She figured he was going to assign her a temporary partner, probably the rookie Greengrass. Dean wouldn't be around for much longer anyway so she might as well get used to working with someone else. When she got there she found Harry leaning against John's desk, arms folded across his chest with a pleased expression on his face.
John spoke, "You heard about Dean taking some time off to look at his options."
"Yeah, he called me this morning," she answered, throwing Harry a questioning look, curious what was going on.
"While he's away I'm assigning you to Harry's team. With Gates' departure he needs help," John answered her question.
"Sounds good," she was ecstatic but tried to temper her exuberance. The two weeks without Dean wasn't too daunting now that she wouldn't be reporting to Trussel. She asked Harry, "Who do you have me working with?"
"It's temporary so it's pointless to break in a new partner. You're stuck with me," he smiled, handed her a file and motioned her out the door.
That information had not sunk in even after she followed him to the car park. They were going to work together the two weeks Dean was away. Was that what he really said? Harry was talking; telling her about the case they were assigned to investigate. A private magical artifact enthusiast had been robbed of a significant portion of his collection and they had to track down a person of interest.
Harry got into the driver's seat of a Ministry issue sedan, a non-descript one. He revved the car. This didn't look right. He clued in when she didn't get into the vehicle, rolled the passenger window down and leaned closer.
"What's wrong?"
She never had this problem before.
"I usually drive," she explained, "Actually, I always do."
"I don't mind driving" he answered because many Aurors did, "I prefer to drive."
Harry wouldn't know this about her.
"Harry, you don't understand. I always drive. And trust me. You'll prefer me to drive."
Unlike Dean Harry would have none of her idiosyncrasies. Maybe if she said please.
"Just get in the car."
She sighed and did as he asked. This was going to be interesting.
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A/N. I realize this Hermione perspective is a bit different but I hope it was believable. And I couldn't resist making Number 12 Grimmauld 'theirs' :)
Next chapter should contain Harry's epiphany.