Chapter 14 - The Truth and Angst of Harry Potter
Harry and Thomas had a routine time at the club after the latter's initial outburst, following which Harry learned that he could kiss all chances of Mr. Granger becoming his father-in-law goodbye if he even dreamed of rooting for a non-Manchester team.
Even so, it wasn't a bad evening, in Harry's opinion. Thomas seemed to be fairly pleasant to him and not once did he ask him for details on his friendship with Hermione. He played a good game of tennis and he also challenged Harry to a friendly game of ping pong. He even occasionally came up with a wisecrack that would leave Harry in splits.
They stopped on the way back to buy some juice. After guzzling down a fair amount of apple squash, they drove back home slowly.
'You don't mind if I ask you something, do you?' Thomas asked suddenly.
'Er - no, of course not,' Harry replied cautiously.
'From what I've heard about you, you seem like a great guy. I don't like saying it, but what I've seen today just reinforces that firmly.'
Harry didn't reply ; he preferred Mr. Granger to do the talking while he would nod along.
'Please tell me if you have any unfriendly intentions in mind regarding my daughter.'
'Unfriendly?!' Harry thought to himself vaguely, 'How is it unfriendly if I'm cuddling up with Hermione in the loveseat and kissing her for all she's worth?'
'I meant more than friendly thoughts,' Thomas verified loudly.
'Oh,' Harry said simply.
'Yeah.'
'Um - well - ' Harry's mind raced furiously. He didn't want to lie, but he needed to give Mr. Granger the truth in such a way that wouldn't cause him to land up begging in a blind school.
'I - uh - '
'Come on Harry, I'm not asking you to explain quantum physics to me,' Thomas said drily. 'I'm just asking if you have feelings for my daughter.'
Harry's eyes closed of their own accord. He was about to say it ; to her dad of all people. He muttered an almost unhearable 'Yes, I do' and then he waited. Waited for a sharp, searing pain between his neck and shoulder blades. Waited for the cracking of his spectacles and a rain of blows upon his face. Waited for a turbulent flow of blood.
Nothing happened.
Looking at the man beside him, Harry saw that he offered no reaction and seemed to devote his full attention to the road ahead.
Not sure whether that was a good sign or not, Harry fumbled for something to say before Thomas saved him the necessity.
'So you're crushing on my daughter.'
Harry raised his eyebrows.
'No,' he replied firmly. 'It's more than that. I've known her for sev - for two years and I would like to think it's a little more than that.' Much, much more than that.
'I see,' Thomas replied. 'Well, I won't interfere if anything happens, but just remember : she's my daughter.'
'I know that Mr. Granger, I wouldn't even think of - '
'I'm very close to trusting you Harry. I'm not saying you would hurt her or something but let me just say this, for the record. If you in any way do anything that causes her even remote physical or mental distress, I swear to God I will inflict upon you the shocking brutality of all the drilling machinery I've ever come across in my fifteen years of dentistry, following which I will carry you to the roof of my house and hurl your mutilated corpse down, Darth Vader style, am I clear?'
Harry nodded slowly, all of a sudden he was feeling quite unhinged.
'You do know what I'm talking about right?' Thomas asked suddenly, suspiciousness clearly evident in his tone.
Harry nodded quickly and spoke, 'Yes, you basically said that if I hurt H - Hermione in any way, you'll put to good use all the tools from your dental prac - '
'No, I'm pretty sure you understood that part, I was talking about hurling your corpse down. How is that Darth Vader style?'
Harry raised his eyebrows, this conversation was getting weirder and weirder. Was Hermione's dad testing his devotion to Hermione or testing his knowledge of blockbuster Hollywood movies?
'Well,' he began slowly, 'technically speaking, it's Anakin Skywalker style, because by the time he lifted Pal - '
'You're damn right it's Anakin Skywalker style!' Thomas declared emphatically, the pride in his voice unmistakeable. 'From Sith to Jedi, from darkness to lightness, from monstrosity to purity...'
Harry's eyes rolled into the back of his head as Thomas drove out the remaining distance cheerfully. Thomas seemed to have completely forgotten their ongoing serious discussion about Hermione and Harry was suddenly glad for it.
*
Harry strolled into the Granger household, feeling quite bewildered by everything that had happened so far in the day.
He took a brief moment out of his time to think about Aunt Marge's dog Ripper and whether or not he would be dead by now. No, he decided sadly. It would probably be alive and participating in the burning of his effigy along with the other four Dursleys.
He walked into the dining room only to bump into Hermione.
Feeling slightly breathless all of a sudden, he said 'hi' softly, which she did not return.
Harry gazed at her curiously ; she seemed to be scrutinising him carefully, as though he were a particularly juicy Arithmancy equation to be solved.
She pursed her lips before giving him a quick smile.
'Hi,' she said sweetly, perhaps a little too sweet, before she was off on her way.
Harry frowned. Was it his imagination or was she miffed at him for some reason? Chalking it down to his growling stomach, he shrugged carelessly and made his way to the table.
'How was your time at the club Harry?' Jane asked, as potato dumplings and sauteed vegetables made their way around the table.
'It was great fun,' Harry answered. 'We played tennis and then we watched some football.'
'At exactly what point duing your stay at the club did Thomas grill you over the brand of shampoo that the Manchester United players use and whether they prefer boxers or briefs?'
'Hey!' Thomas cried indignantly. 'I'll have you know that there is another genuine MUFC fan in this household and you shall treat him with some respect!'
'Of course dear,' Jane humoured her husband. Hermione rolled her eyes.
'Something wrong Poppet?' Thomas asked curiously of his daughter.
'Huh? Oh, um, nothing,' Hermione replied. She didn't even think of admonishing her dad for calling her 'Poppet'.
'What time is it mum?' Hermione asked.
'It's eight-thirty. What happened to your watch?'
'Oh, I took it off. It never worked properly, I could never trust it to tell me the time. In fact, I can't trust anyone to tell me the truth about time,' Hermione answered sharply, making sure to look at Harry as she spoke.
Harry looked at Hermione in shock ; she met his stare defiantly, her nose high in the air and Harry felt himself falling in love with her all over again - was it possible she had actually figured everything out by herself?
Of course it was, he thought to himself stupidly, she was the Brightest Witch of Her Generation. But even then he had to admit he was very surprised about the whole thing ; after all it had been barely a day since he had touched down in the Granger household.
'Bollocks, what if she doesn't fancy older men trapped in younger bodies?' was Harry's first immature thought when he came out of his temporary coma.
He looked at Hermione to see if her expression gave anything away, but he had no luck there. All she did was put her head down and eat her food silently and whenever she looked up, a guarded, neutral expression formed itself on her usually soft features.
Thomas and Jane did not miss the escalating tension between the two youngsters at the dining table. Jane gave Hermione a questioning look and Thomas frowned at both of them.
'Did we miss anything?' Jane asked, not sure to whom her question was directed at - Hermione or Harry.
'No, mum' Hermione replied firmly, 'just an old school joke of Harry's.'
'Oh, what's it about?' Thomas challenged. Surprisingly, he didn't blame Harry at all for whatever just happened. He had a feeling his daughter was lashing out at something and she had Harry nervously dodging on the backfoot.
'Um - ' Harry's eyes darted around the table nervously, but it was Hermione who answered him.
'Nothing particularly important. It's just some minor fact about his life that Harry should have told me instead of keeping me in the dark. Harry's a big fan of H.G. Wells,' Hermione said, in her I'm-Hermione-Granger-and-I-know-everything tone.
'Really!' Jane replied enthusiastically, 'which of his works do you like the most?'
'Oh, Harry loves 'The Time Machine',' Hermione replied quickly before Harry could even open his mouth, 'he always wishes that he could travel back in time, don't you Harry?'
Harry froze on the spot, goosebumps erupting all over his arms, a cold dread washed over him as he knew now for sure that Hermione had guessed his secret and by the looks of things, she didn't seem to be too accepting of the fact that he was a time-traveller.
'To tell you the truth, I've never laid my hands on any of his books,' Harry replied quite truthfully. Intelligent, dramatic science-fiction stories never made an appearance in the Dursley household.
'All right Harry, if you want to play it that way, who am I to object?' Hermione asked loftily.
'Okay, that's enough,' Thomas loudly. 'If that's their idea of teenage flirting, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about the fact that they're living under one roof,' he added snidely to his wife.
*
After bidding Hermione's parents an awkward good-night, Harry trudged up to his room and closed the door.
Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Tonks and probably Dumbledore. These were the few people he was planning to tell. Hermione was on the top of that list. And now she had figured it out without him saying anything. So why was he so morose now? Was it because of a fear of rejection? No, it couldn't be. Hermione had seen him at his absolute worst, she had seen him as a human wreck, so how was this any worse?
With that thought in his mind, he opened the door and went out into the dark hallway. He walked resolutely to Hermione's room and knocked softly on the door.
'Come in,' was all she said and Harry slowly opened the door.
Looking at Hermione almost made Harry forget his purpose of being there. She was wearing pink pajamas and she had her hair bunched up into a messy ponytail. She had a teddy bear in her lap and a thick book in her hands and Harry failed to recall anything cuter in his whole life.
On seeing Harry, she quickly discarded the teddy bear and her face reddened slightly, only to go back to the cool, unfeeling countenance she had worn at the dinner table.
'Um... hi,' Harry said nervously.
Hermione only gave him a peculiar smile and gestured for him to continue.
'I - I guess you figured things out,' Harry said.
'What are you talking about Harry?' Hermione asked innocently.
'You know what I'm talking about Hermione,' Harry replied wearily, as he moved closer to Hermione's bed.
Hermione watched him warily, but didn't say anything.
'Can I sit?' Harry asked her.
Hermione put her book aside and moved over slowly. Harry took a seat at the edge of the bed and wrung his hands together nervously.
'I was going to tell you at some point. I mean, how could I not? You're the person I trust the most in my life, you were on top of my list of people to tell. I guess I waited too long to actually say it, but I should've known better when it came to you. You obviously manage to figure out everything and - '
'Harry,' Hermione gently interrupted his rambling. She put a comforting arm on his shoulder.
'When?'
Harry knew exactly what she meant by 'when' ; there was no need to elaborate.
'May 2nd, 1998,' Harry replied.
'Five years?' Hermione asked curiously, 'not more?'
Harry looked at her in confusion.
'I just imagined you did it as a prank or as an accident,' Hermione said.
'Hermione, I was murdered by Voldemort. The wizarding world including Hogwarts fell to his Death Eaters,' Harry snapped.
Hermione gasped loudly and covered her mouth with her hands.
'Harry...' she breathed.
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The last time he heard his name in that husky tone was on that cold, unfriendly December evening in the tent ; the one and only time they gave in to their passion...
'I owe you an apology, Harry, I'm so sorry,' Hermione said, 'when I found out, I thought you were in violation of something or the other again, I didn't know - '
'You thought I was rule-breaking as usual?' Harry asked, though he was not really angry.
Hermione looked embarassed. 'It's stupid I know, but Professor McGonagall told me some time ago that awful things have - '
'Happened when wizards meddle with time. Loads of them end up killing their past or future selves by mistake!' Harry chuckled.
Hermione's eyes widened and she looked at Harry in shock. 'How do you know that?'
'As I said, I'm from the future. The most intelligent and beautiful witch I've ever laid my eyes on helped me a lot and she was the one who once told me that.'
Hermione blushed furiously and looked away from Harry.
'Intelligent maybe, but I'm not beautiful,' Hermione mumbled under her breath.
Harry sighed. 'If that's what you really think, you can keep telling yourself that. However, anyone even slightly blessed with the gift of sight will tell you how wrong you are.'
Hermione's face was now beetroot red and she moved away from Harry, who briefly caught the words 'bushy hair' and 'buck teeth' coming from the blushing girl.
Harry frowned ; hearing Hermione put herself down like that was getting on his nerves.
'So where was I, when you - died?' Hermione asked softly.
'You were the last person I saw before I fell,' Harry replied.
'Oh.'
'You can ask Hermione, I'm still alive. Ask me whatever's on your mind,' Harry said.
'Is there really a heaven and a hell?' Hermione fired off immediately. 'Is there someone who actually judges your life and then makes a decision? Does God really exist or do we go to church for no reason? 'What about - '
'Whoa!' Harry said loudly. 'Do you have to write a thesis on this?'
'You said I can ask,' Hermione pointed out.
'Yeah.'
Harry took a moment to think before he gave his reply.
'Cut it out, you're distracting me,' he said sharply to Hermione, who was tapping her foot impatiently.
Hermione rolled her eyes and scooted closer to Harry.
Harry spotted this out of the corner of his eye.
'All right here goes. Not exactly, yes and kind of.'
'Care to elaborate?' Hermione asked drily.
'It isn't exactly heaven or hell, but instead every human takes on a physical form that truly represents their morality ; what their heart really is filled with. For example, Voldemort turned into a hapless, hideous stunted creature because he made Horc - um - because he made horrible decisions and did terrible things.'
'So what did you turn up as?' Hermione asked.
'Batman,' Harry replied seriously.
'Harry!' Hermione punched his shoulder, 'tell me!'
'I turned up as myself,' Harry said, rubbing his shoulder.
'Just like that? No deformities, completely unblemished?' Hermione asked disbelievingly.
'Hermione, do you think somewhere deep down I'm a monster waiting to be unleashed?'
'NO!' Hermione cried out, 'I meant, I know you're a good person, you're my best friend, but... nobody's perfect.'
'Well, Merlin and the other chaps must have decided I came pretty damn close,' Harry smirked.
'Harry...' Hermione said warningly, even though butterflies fluttered in her stomach when she saw Harry's devilish smirk.
'As to your second question, the answer is yes. There is someone who seems to take a decision regarding your future after you die. A fat, balding man sits on a rickety chair and is regularly seduced by a vixen. They talk to us about our life and then they carry the message from Fate.'
'Fate?' Hermione asked.
'Yeah, he exists. So does Death - I guess.'
Hermione took a moment to absorb everything, before she nodded.
'How bad was it?' she asked. 'If you're not too uncomfortable talking about it.'
'It was pretty bad. As I told you, Voldemort had taken over Britain and Muggle borns were being rounded up by the hundreds. The Ministry was full of Voldemort's henchmen and we were on the run from practically everyone.'
'Because I'm a Muggleborn and they wanted me?' Hermione asked.
'Yeah, and because Voldemort had this crush on me, I was Undesiable Number One. So anyway, we didn't go to Hogwarts for our seventh year.'
'What did they do with the ones they captured?' Hermione asked.
'They gave them a farce of a trial, relieved them of their wands and then either tortured them to death or chucked them to the Dementors.'
'That's horrible!' Hermione gasped, 'that's like what the Nazis did to the Jews!'
'Yeah, it was exactly like that. There's no exchange of good things between the Muggle world and the wizarding world, but they certainly do have bigotry and corruption in common. Pathetic.'
'What about Professor Dumbledore, Harry? Where was he when V - Voldemort took over?'
'He left less than two months before Voldemort's coup.'
'Left? You mean - he - no, impossible!' Hermione exclaimed.
'That was my first reaction too when I saw him go plummeting to his death.'
'Plummeting? You mean he fell - '
'I'll just say this once,' Harry snapped, 'it wasn't the long fall or the sudden stop that killed him, it was the green light he took to the chest just before he fell.'
Hermione's face showed nothing but horror ; she was hurting Harry deeper and deeper with every question she asked. She looked at Harry with sympathy, seeing it happen once was bad enough, now she was forcing him to relive all those memories.
She vowed not to talk about the death and depravity Harry had seen in the future.
Tears formed in Harry's vibrant green eyes and he quickly looked away from Hermione, not wanting her to see him cry.
'Kill the spare.'
'Avada Kedavra!'
'SIRIUS! NO!'
'Severus... please...'
'KILL ME LIKE YOU KILLED HIM, YOU COWARD!'
'Avada Kedavra!'
'Harry Potter.. you will lose everything.'
'Dobby, don't die, please...'
'NO!!!'
'Dora, get out of here, Teddy needs someone!'
'I won't leave you Remu - AHHH!'
'NO! No! Tonks!'
'I want to see the light leave your eyes!'
'No - no - no! No! Fred! No!'
'You will always be alone, Harry Potter.....'
Harry's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped to the ground ; the memory of each painful death pummeling his skin like shards of hate, each terrible loss assaulting him like physical blows.
He felt helplessness and despair taking over him and he crawled into a foetal position, willing himself to go numb and forget everything.
Hermione was dumbstruck. She knew that with the kind of upbringing Harry had, he was unlikely to display his emotions or even cry in front of anyone else ; but this was brutal.
He was trying and failing miserably to hold in his sobs of grief and he was shaking as badly as she did when she was four and there was a storm outside.
'Harry...?' she whispered softly, moving closer to him.
No response.
It seemed he had gone to far in the pool of misery that was his mind. His body seemed to have wilted, he had gone into a protective shell and Hermione knew that getting a response out of him now was impossible.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and muttered soft, comforting nothings in his ear. Rubbing his back softly, she tried getting a reaction from the green eyes she loved so much, but to no avail.
She pressed a hand to his cheek and gently lifted his head to meet hers. Their faces were mere centimetres apart and Hermione shivered as his hot breath touched her.
For a brief instant Hermione swore she saw a powerful, unreadable emotion flash in his eyes but then something in them seemed to snap and Harry quickly moved out of her arms and ran out of the room.
AN - Didn't mean to make it so angsty at the end, but I think it's natural for Harry to have a major breakdown after all he's been through in canon. Probably also due to the fact that I finished this on Sunday evening, which along with Monday morning - is a very depressing time of the week.
Review!!! ( I got barely 20 for the last chapter, hint, hint...)