A/N. Thanks for the feedback. I was looking for a reason why Hermione wouldn't tell Harry about Hugo and it had to be a very personal one. Once again I've taken liberties with her family and past so that would make more sense. I am surprised though that only one reviewer picked up that one tiny hint about Hermione in the last chapter. I must have done such a poor job of it.
Now, more of Hermione as she tries to sort out this Harry-Ginny thing. Dean helps her in his own way. Ginny makes a cameo in this one.
XXXXXXXXXX
Chapter 33 - Fear
"The whole thing makes less sense than tits on a bull," Dean said to Hermione after Seamus went off to tend on the other side of the bar.
It was about nine, they had just had dinner and Jessie left with Harry for work. Her partner had been pestering her about the 'whole thing' every chance he got since she gave him the long version of the story a few days ago. In truth she was avoiding more conversations about it, for as much as she was ecstatic Dean knew about her and Harry's little secret, she didn't like the feeling of being pressured into coming out into the open with it.
"Tits on a bull?"
"Don't distract me," he chastised, quite aware of what she was trying to do, "Seriously, what are you planning on doing? Be a couple in secret forever? Start bringing in fake boyfriends and girlfriends? Don't you think we're all going to eventually clue in and find out?"
"We'll tell everyone. We just haven't set a firm date yet," she replied vaguely, thinking maybe Harry should know this was the plan.
"The date is long past due," Dean snapped, "It's been more than three months. I take it it's still going strong?"
"I think so."
"Feel great?"
"Uh-huh."
"Feel right?"
"Most days."
"So, let me get this straight. First you weren't sure he was serious or that it would last and you thought it wasn't worth it to hurt his ex-girlfriend and your Dad, which I still don't get, by the way. There was also the Ministry policy against it. Despite all that you ask him to move in with you, which he agrees to, and so you figure that perhaps he is indeed serious about what you guys have gotten yourself into, duh, but then you're not sure sometimes because he seems content about this 'secret' propagating itself and hasn't asked you about it again since trying to talk you out of doing it. And while technically you're no longer violating some archaic Ministry rule, all this time you've been feeling guilty about betraying his ex, feeling bad about not fulfilling your Dad's dying wish to break up with him and lying to all your friends about it. But you're happy. Does that sum it all up?"
"Pretty much."
"You are mental," he pointed out the obvious, "So what's really holding you back?"
"I think it's because I can't face her once she finds out."
"Why not?"
"She'll be hurt, angry, and it'll be justified."
"So what?"
"I don't want her hurt or angry and I'll feel like this hideous person that I really am."
"Your sleeping with him doesn't make you a bad person but I must say keeping this secret from her makes you a horrible friend. Nevertheless, it doesn't matter what you want. She'll eventually find out."
"I was hoping she'd find someone else before I had to tell her and she'd be happy by now," she was still hoping.
"Well she hasn't and I think you're underestimating Ginny's ability to understand."
"No names," she reminded him.
It was late and they were far from the rest of the crowd but were still in a public place. She did an Impertubatus spell just in case.
"Sorry," he apologized. "Why is her happiness so important to you that you would forsake your own so you won't hurt her precious feelings?"
"She wants him back, Dean."
"How do you know this?"
"I just know, okay?"
He took her word for it, "If she wants him back then tough shit. She had her chance. She blew it when she broke up with him. He's moved on."
Hermione made a face which Dean caught a sight of.
"You don't think he's moved on?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted.
"You're living together and you're not sure?"
She winched at his good logic. When he put it that way it did seem like she should be more certain.
"It's so bloody clear what your problem is."
"You mean aside from being a traitorous friend?"
"Uh-huh," Dean replied non-judgmentally, one of the things she loved about him.
"What?"
"You're an insecure girlfriend," he blatantly put it. "You're afraid to lose him."
"I am not," she denied it like it was the craziest theory she had ever heard.
But Dean stood his ground, "Think about it. Your reasons for keeping it secret may have been there in the beginning but they aren't there anymore. Now you're just afraid. You're afraid that she'll tell him she wants him back and he'll say yes. You're hiding behind this bubble of secrecy you've fashioned, making her an excuse when you know there is no way to prevent her from getting hurt, so he wouldn't have to choose because you can't risk losing him."
The more she considered it the more she thought his claim had merit. It upset her. How did she get from having nothing to lose three months ago to having so much now and being afraid to lose it all? It was ridiculous, immature, cowardly...
She groaned, buried her face in her hands and muttered to herself, "I'm about to fuck this up."
Dean leaned in closer and tried to make her feel better.
"No you're not. You're just thinking too much. You need him to put your mind at ease. Ask him if he wants her back."
"I can't ask him that," she said to Dean like he had two heads.
"Why not?" Dean seemed totally oblivious to the obvious.
"Because he'll say he doesn't."
"But that's good, isn't it?" he was more perplexed.
"Not if he really wants her back," she reasoned, "I don't want him to stay with me just because he doesn't want to hurt me and it's the noble thing to do."
"What makes you think he'll choose you only because it's the noble thing to do?"
"Because he chose her first; because he loved her first."
Dean quickly corrected her, "That doesn't mean anything."
"It shouldn't but it kind of does," Hermione replied, now feeling warm on the face as words flowed from her mouth unedited, "I've known him for what, over half my life now? I've spent much of that time with him and not once, not once did he look at me this way..."
Dean interrupted, "You might want to breathe a bit there."
She ranted on, "You've seen him and her together. They were this perfect couple and we all thought they were going to get married. Then she breaks up with him for some stupid reason and now he's with me. I'm his rebound girl."
"So, fucking what?"
"I'm only with him because the one he wants tells him she doesn't want him anymore," she hurt herself saying that, "Only she wants him back."
Dean continued to have a reasonable answer for her every point, "You don't know that for a fact. How do you know that he wants her and not you?"
"Because I know he told her he loves her many times and he hasn't said anything about loving me."
That surprised Dean; it shocked her. The truth finally came out; the root of her insecurity. She didn't know if he loved her. She thought and she hoped he did, but she didn't really know.
After some time, Dean said quietly, "Then ask him"
"I can't do that."
He rolled his eyes, "I know what you're going to say, that he might say he loves you even if he doesn't mean it."
Finally he was starting to get it.
"He might also mean it," he suggested.
She expounded, "I don't want to have to ask. I want it to come from him."
"What good is that if you won't believe him anyway? Have you told him how you feel?"
"No, because I don't want to pressure him into feeling the same way."
"This is maddening. Thank goodness I'm not a woman!" Dean declared in exasperation, "Let me channel Luna here. You can't force people to feel something out of nothing. And, if it's meant to be, it will happen even if you mean for it to be something else."
She blushed, hating that she had to tell Dean the truth about how she felt about Lunaspeak, "I never could figure Luna out."
"Okay, let me try someone else," he changed his tone to one more firm and direct, "Stop fooling around with a good thing. Life's too short. You've known him for a long time and he's a good guy. Witches would kill to have what you have. And really, now's the perfect time to do it because I'm so busy being famous I won't know what hit me."
"That's not funny."
"Do you see me laughing? But it makes the most sense. Look, I know she's your best friend and she may want him back as you said but maybe she'll be okay with it. If she really is your friend she'll be happy for you."
"I know she'll be happy for us but that doesn't mean she won't get hurt," she replied.
"I don't see any other way to prevent that, do you?" he raised another good point she had no rebuttal for and when she didn't answer she heard him sigh, "Bear with me here. I'm not a woman, I don't think like a woman and I can't pretend to think like one. Her you can't do much about, she'll find out one way or another. She's a big girl and she can take care of herself. But you should have the honest conversation with him. Give him the chance to do the right thing."
Then she let her most desperate thoughts out for Dean to hear, "I know what I feel about him but how do I know how he feels about me? Even if I ask him and he tells me he loves me, how do I really know?"
"You don't 'really know'. There is no knowing," Dean said what she already knew. 'No knowing' was an answer she didn't like. He continued, "You just feel and you trust. You don't have reason to second guess whatever he'll say he feels about you, do you? And if for some strange reason he decides he wants his ex- back instead of staying with you then he'll be making a big mistake. I'll have to hex him for being such a stupid ass but you can't keep him and this hidden forever. If you're not meant to be with each other it may hurt like hell but nothing you do will keep you together."
And maybe for the first time in her life she truly got tempted to believe in fate. She could imagine how believing that there were things that were just 'meant' or 'not meant' to be could bring about relief that there was a higher power above her determining what was best and removing the burden of control from her. It would also mean that no matter how poorly she decided, if they were meant to be, they would end up together.
However, she couldn't get past destiny trivializing all the hard choices she and everyone else made everyday. For her, the existence of a predetermined outcome would make choosing to do the right thing meaningless and existence pointless. That reminded her why she didn't, couldn't, believe in fate. Fate was a cop out; it was just something to make one feel better at the end of the day when things didn't work out as planned.
But Dean was right too. There were things that were beyond her control. She couldn't do anything about Ginny getting hurt and she couldn't do anything about how Harry truly felt about her. Recognizing this now it was easier to let go, not to leave the outcomes up to fate but to let Ginny and Harry determine them, to trust that they would choose well.
Hermione had to face losing her fear of losing him. Maybe he did love her back the way she loved him but if he didn't then she'd have her moments with him to cherish forever. That wasn't such a bad thing. And how easily did she forget that this was her exact thought when he proposed all this that night at the pond?
Dean said it. She could not keep it to herself forever, even if Harry was allowing her to do so. She had to set whatever this beautiful and overwhelming thing that was between them free and let the elements test how steadfast it was; how real.
She downed the remainder of her drink, set her glass down and nodded over to Dean to let him know she got it and that she appreciated the bitter pill he was making her take. Then they were interrupted by Seamus making an announcement.
"Gather up, everyone!"
He flipped on the telly that was temporarily perched at the centre of the bar and adjusted the dial until it focussed on the BBC Magical London channel. Sportscore was on. It was some daily sports show she had seen Harry watch sometimes with highlights of games played that day.
"Ginny's getting interviewed!" Seamus said excitedly.
True enough there she was, seated confidently across from the show's host, smiling demurely. Hermione could tell she was nervous by the way she intermittently tucked her flowing red hair behind her ear even when she didn't have to but that would have gone unnoticed by the rest of those watching.
"She looks positively radiant," someone said from the gathered crowd.
"She's even more beautiful than she was before," some bloke added.
Dean disagreed, "Nah. That's just all lights and make-up."
It was and it wasn't. Her partner was obviously trying to prop up her diminishing confidence, quite unsuccessfully. Ginny looked amazing on the screen and it wasn't so much about how she looked, it was how she carried herself. She last saw Ginny in person just before her dad died about a month ago. When her popularity took off after that first game, her handlers pounced on the opportunity and Ginny got a make-over. Physically there was not a lot to change but to sell the sport and to get people more interested they worked on her public image such that little girls would want to be like her and boys and men would want to watch her and the Harpies play.
"Ten games since you started, ten wins for the Harpies; you're averaging a hundred and seventy points a game. What does this all mean to you?" the host asked.
"I don't think words can describe it," Ginny answered, just as she would if she were talking to them and not to millions of viewers, "This is all wonderful. It's a dream come true."
"Many are already speculating Rookie of the Year. Some say MVP."
The Finnigan crowd cheered.
Ginny blushed, and dismissed the remark, "No, please. That's a bit premature. It's only been ten games. There are other great players out there who have done much more for their teams than I have."
"How do you do it? Every minute you're flying you play with such focussed intensity. What inspires you to play the way you do? Who inspires you?"
She shrugged, "A lot of it is really the people I play with. Being the new kid on the block my teammates have been so supportive and we do push each other to play as best we can. I just play hard."
That wasn't quite the answer the host was hoping for.
"Now, most of our viewers know you as Harry Potter's former girlfriend. Now that you've come into your own, what does Harry say about that?"
The mention of his name caught her off guard. Hermione felt like someone just slapped her across the face.
"He's happy for me."
"You've remained close all this time?"
"We're friends."
"Any chance he'll come to a game sometime and watch you play live?" the suggestive tone made Hermione grit her teeth.
Ginny laughed naturally, "I'm afraid you're going to have to ask him that question."
"No truth to the rumours he actually sneaks into the pitch disguised as someone else?" the host asked her teasingly.
Her friend chuckled, "That's absurd. We really should talk about something else."
The host was pushy, "Holyhead is playing London in a few days. Is it true that you've been receiving death threats from Flamer fanatics who want you to sit the game out and that Harry Potter has volunteered to personally protect you for the duration of your London stay?"
"No and most definitely no. Where does all the rubbish come from?" Ginny dismissed them good naturedly, though Hermione noticed the annoyance behind her tone, "I played on the London farm team. London fans are knowledgeable and they love a good challenge. Whoever started that rumour is unfair to paint them in such a negative light. I'm excited to play in front of them."
"You miss London?"
"London, the fans, my old teammates, my co-workers at the Prophet, my family and my friends," she listed, meaning that she did miss them, "And I can't wait to go home and have drinks at this lovely bar in Diagon Alley called Finnigan's."
"Finnigan's. I'll be sure to check that out. Thanks for coming by today," the host said, ending the interview.
"Thanks for inviting me," Ginny replied, shaking the host's hand.
Seamus shut the telly off, still beaming from Ginny's mention of Finnigan's as the crowd hooted and howled in approval. Hermione was proud of Ginny not only for how she handled herself in the interview but how she steered the conversation to talk about what mattered more to her while the host had an obviously different agenda.
Watching that she realized just how popular Ginny had become. Hermione didn't anticipate her past relationship with Harry being dragged into the limelight with her. She wondered if Harry did. Was that why he didn't watch Ginny's games?
Dean nudged her, "I'm telling you nothing can bring her down from the high she's in now. It'll be perfect timing."
If he said 'perfect timing' one more time she would have to tell him off.
They left Finnigan's around eleven but instead of going home she dropped by the Ministry to look into these alleged death threats. It turned out that the threats did exist and that the Harpies and the Flamers were taking it seriously. The teams had approached the Ministry to look into it and it was seen fit to get Aurors on the case.
It was no surprise to her that it was assigned to Harry but that didn't stop a hollow pit from growing in her gut as she saw his name on the file. The case had been opened yesterday and the fact that he didn't mention anything to her was unsettling.
It deflated her considerably and she fought off tears on her way home. She kept on telling herself he must have just forgotten, that he meant to tell her. She would ask him in the morning; this was a small thing and wasn't worth a phone call.
She tossed and turned in bed, ignoring her insecurities, scolding herself for being so emotional. Finally falling asleep past one, she dreamt very unpleasant dreams of Ginny and Harry getting back together. He woke her up inadvertently as he got into bed.
"Go back to sleep," he whispered as he kissed her in the dark, slipping under the covers next to her, holding her in his arms.
She faced him and asked, "What time is it?"
"Four, way too early to get up," he answered, "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," she felt like she was choking.
Harry turned on the lamp on the bedside table and brushed off wetness from her cheeks.
"Tell me."
"It's so stupid really. I feel bad enough thinking it. I'm going to hate myself if I ask it," she was scolding herself for being so weak about this.
"I want to know," he encouraged her, his voice very patient as he gazed down upon her.
She gathered up her courage and asked, "Why didn't you tell me Ginny was receiving death threats?"
He sighed, tucked a stray strand of her brown hair behind her ear, "Because if I did I'd have to tell you that I volunteered to look into it and I didn't want you to feel bad."
His honesty begat honesty. She fought off the stupid tears coming from stupid envy and stupid, useless jealousy.
"I feel bad."
"I'm sorry," she heard him say, his words laced with remorse, "It was something I had to do."
"I understand."
She did. Having someone else take the case was not an option for him. He had to be the one to look into it. It was the way he was and she accepted that.
Out of the blue, seemingly attuned to her fears, he gave her reassurance, "I'm not leaving you. Not for her, not for anyone else."
"Okay."
"I'm here for as long as you want me here."
"Okay," she repeated, believing that he believed his words to be true, "Next time, just tell me, even if you know it'll hurt me, okay?"
"Okay," he whispered back, planting another kiss on her forehead and drawing her into his arms.
"Did you find anything?" she asked, her head resting on his chest as he turned the lights down.
"No. Ginny thinks it's a publicity ploy by the teams to drum up more interest about the game," he replied harshly. "She's quite pissed."
"But you are treating it like it's real, right?"
"We're not taking any chances," then he added, "She'll be in London next week. I want to tell her about us."
She had already thought about this, "After the game. I'll do it after the game."
"I want to be there with you when you do. We should do this together."
"Okay."
That settled, she felt him sigh and his tone became more relaxed.
He laid out the plan, "Then we'll call Ron and your Mum. Then we'll snog at Finnigan's so everyone else will know."
She laughed and looked up at the outline of his face, "Harry..."
He had a smile, "What? It's either that or I'll go on national telly, jump on someone's couch like a freak and tell the world how I feel about you."
"Fine, Finnigan's it is then."
"I thought so."
He leaned closer and kissed her mouth tenderly, making her all emotional again.
Merlin, what the hell was wrong with her?
He embraced her and made her feel much better. She slept in his arms as always. When she woke up the next day she felt like she had a load off. He woke up briefly when she got out of bed but went back to sleep when she left for work.
That afternoon she and Dean were watching Borgin and Burkes. It was a rare day when Caractakus Burkes was manning the store. Borgin was apparently visiting family somewhere up north and Hermione had a couple members of their team trail him. She wanted to go but Dean convinced her to stay and send someone else. She had been feeling kind of off lately and she blamed the bug that was going around the office that week.
"You should go home," Dean said to her as he took over listening into what Burkes was doing in the shop.
"I'm fine," she responded, closing her eyes and willing her tiredness away.
Not half an hour later Dean nudged her and detached the headphones so she could hear what he was hearing. Burkes' impatient tone came over the speakers.
"The markings are all different. They're not even close."
"If you had pictures..." the other man defended himself but Burkes cut him off.
"All I hear from you are excuses. I pay you a lot of money to find the Peverell jewels and you keep on giving me garbage," Burkes chastised, "We don't have the luxury of his patience."
The Peverell jewels?
"Look," Dean pointed at the magical imprint recognizer monitor in front of them, "It's Dodgey's magical signature or someone very close to his."
"Visual?"
"No, he slipped past the alley surveillance cameras."
"We need confirmation," she told him.
"I'll go," Dean volunteered but she made an executive decision.
She knew the stolen items better than he did and was better at stealth. She put the comm bud into her ear and listened as she transfigured herself and then made her way to the store in the guise of an interested shopper.
"Let me talk to him," the other man replied.
"He only talks to people he wants to talk with; you know this," the owner spat out, "Now get out of here before someone sees you."
"Can you at least give me something for those?"
"For these? The locket is made of fake Goblin gold, the stone on that brooch is cheap black diamond and the cloak I can get from a toy store," scoffed Burkes.
"You know that's not true," the other man's voice answered, "I'll take them next door if you don't want them."
"Seventy-five galleons," Burkes offered.
"I'm not parting with them for less than two hundred."
The storeowner began complaining, telling the other man how it was hard to sell something that was hot. That was a confirmation of sorts but they weren't going to make a public arrest unless it was Dodgey or someone of interest. They couldn't waste their only lead on a nobody.
She quickened her pace, needing to be in there before the suspect left the store. The moment she walked in Burkes and the other man turned in her direction. It was Dodgey.
Burkes called out, "I'll be right with you, honey."
"I'll wait," she replied, a signal to Dean that they found their man and that she would stand down until he came so they could make the arrest together.
In the background she heard Dean make the necessary calls but Dodgey became fidgety. She caught him glancing her way more than once. Then their eyes met and she saw a flash of recognition in them.
"He made me," she announced to Dean as she reached for her weapon the same time Dodgey had.
A flash of red light emanated from somewhere near her mark. She ducked and the curse flew past her head, smashing the Egyptian mummy case on display behind her.
Collaportus!
She fired an exit blocking charm at the door he was heading for, making him go the opposite way. Dean, who was just outside and now couldn't get in, swore.
"Sorry. Back door," she told him through their comm device, continuing to avoid and block hexes from Dodgey, at the same time forcing him back on his heels to use the less populated exit where Dean would hopefully be waiting for him.
Crash!
Glass splintered behind her, making her swear. That one narrowly missed her. She had underestimated Dodgey's combat skills and if not for the anti-Disapparition charm Borgin and Burkes was equipped with he would have been long gone. He parried each and every restraint she threw at him, annoying her of the lack of intel on him. Nothing on his file suggested that he would be a difficult arrest. Had she known she would have waited for back-up before coming in.
Dodgey just slipped past a cowering Burkes beyond the counter and out to the back office and exit. Instantly hearing him engage Dean in a wand fight, she hurriedly made her way to join the fray.
Stupefy!
Protego!
Expelliarmus!
They were moving too fast, at least Dodgey was. At one point she almost got hit by friendly fire. Then, just as they heard more Aurors and MLE Apparating outside Knockturn Alley, Dodgey hit Dean with a green spell that propelled her partner up and back, demolishing the back window, exposing the footpath behind the store.
The sight of Dean motionless momentarily froze her.
"Dean!" she called out, almost in panic.
Her partner groaned and stirred, and as relief washed over her, she met Dodgey's pissed off stare. He ran for the path, sidestepping another Stunner from her. Without hesitation she moved swiftly towards the same exit, pounced on him and was able to grab him just as he Disapparated, taking her with him.
Craaackkk!!!
Pop!!!
A split second later they crashed back onto solid ground, the impact jarring them both and causing them to lose their wands. He had taken them to some remote field with tall wild grass all around them. She was first up on her feet and she swung her foot hard into his midsection as he was on his fours trying to get up.
"Umph!"
He grunted and swore at her. She tried to do it again but he was ready the second time, catching her foot and twisting it. Letting her body go with the motion, she twirled mid air and on her way down caught his jaw squarely with her trailing foot. Dean taught her how to do that.
A satisfying crunching sound echoed through the air and she took the opportunity to free up her holstered spare wand. He was quick too. He lunged, crashed hard against her with his shoulder and knocked her off her feet, making her lose her wand again.
"Enough of this!" he screamed in her face, his hands holding her wrists down above her head, his weight pinning her body to the ground.
"But we just got started," she spat back.
With a release move she freed up her right wrist and tried to punch him but he quickly restrained her again, more agitated than he was before.
"Don't make me hit you!" he warned, as if he really thought that would scare her.
She brought her forehead forcibly against his face, making him swear again as she drew blood, mostly his. His grip loosened and he got off her, holding his hands up his mouth, his eyes watering from the pain. She made a fist and was about to swing at him again when he held one arm up.
"I said that's enough!" he yelled out, in a familiar voice, "It's me."
"Who...?"
Before she could finish the question the man who was looked like Dodgey transformed right before her eyes. It was Warren Gates.
XXXXXXXXXXX