Warning Sign

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and company. So if you recognize it, it isn't mine.

Author's Note: Thank you to my reviewers and readers. I guess I should mention this is slightly AU seeing as I am choosing to ignore that last book. Please continue to let me know what you think. Thanks!

Chapter Two

Train Wreck

I wrote quickly. Eyes darting from my parchment to the large tomb of a book in front of me. I was in my zone, which I hadn't been in, in about a week. Which was exactly how long it had been since Harry had made an appearance at my door. I hated being distracted.

I was in the middle of translating a particularly difficult passage when I got the sensation of being watched. It wasn't just that. It was as if I was being studied. It felt….well, alarming. I didn't hear my office door opening.

I looked up and there he was. Leaning against the door frame as if he did this sort of thing often. A small smile graced his face, arms crossed across his chest, his feet crossed at the ankles. He looked relaxed and comfortable to be in my space. Like he belong here.

“Hey.” So casual. When did he get so confident? When did I become a wreck?

“Hello.” Be calm. Be aloof. “Is there something I can help you with?” I gripped my quill tighter to help control the shaking of my hand.

He walked over to my desk and came around to me. `Oh lord. What is he doing?' I'm sure the look on my face spoke volumes. Volumes of confusion.

He held out his hand, palm side up. I look at it, then up at his face. He curled his fingers twice in a gesture of `come with me'.

I slowly placed my ink covered hand in his. I felt him tug me out of my chair and followed him back around my desk. He then led me out of my office and down the hall to the lift. The panic in my head could not be pushed down. `What am I doing? I have work to do. Research. This isn't right; going to lead to nothing but trouble.'

We were quiet as we stood next to each other. His fingers were suddenly interlaced through mine and I quickly looked to his face for a clue to his behavior. His eyes were on the door, but I was sure he was smirking. It was if he was trying to throw me off balance.

The doors opened and he led me through the lobby and out into the sun. I continued to follow him (like I had a choice) and not know why.

The street was crowded with mid-day traffic and people busy with getting their lunch and a few minutes to themselves. No one paid us any mind.

“Harry, where are we going?” I asked as I was drawn through a particularly large crowd.

He turned back and looked at me with a finger raised to his lips, “Shh.” Then he smiled and continued pulling me. I was forever doomed.

Finally we entered a quiet café on a corner. It was small and dimly lit with tables place around the room. People were sitting in pairs or in small groups. Voices were hushed. The atmosphere of the placed covered up the hectic ness of outside.

Harry guided us to a table by the front windows and gestured for me to sit. I settled myself across from him and avoided his eyes at all costs. He sat down and I knew that he was staring, playing his little game in his head. I wonder what the score was.

`I will not look. Keep your eyes on the window' I knew my face was slowly becoming a shade of red. I knew that I if I looked at him, I would be lost. Completely lost. Why am I not strong? I put the box up, in the closet. All physical memories put away. Now if I can only do that with the mental ones.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I was snapped out of my reverie by the waitress.

“I'll have water please,” I said while quickly making eye contact with the girl. No looking at Harry.

“The same for me,” was his reply. The waitress walked away after placing two menus on the table. Outside there seemed to be an abnormal amount of young couples out today. `Yes, throw it in my face. You'll never have this Granger.'

“Hermione.” My eyes were stuck looking out the window. There was a young couple, probably a little younger than me, embracing across the street.

“Hermione, look at me.” His voice was firm, but not forceful. He simply wanted my attention. Little did he know, he didn't have to ask.

My gaze connected with his slowly. This was a slow painful death. I knew he could read my eyes. He always had that power. His green eyes held mine captive.

“See. That wasn't so bad, was it?” He leaned down to look into my eyes and smiled. God I hated those lips. `Be strong.'

I matched his gaze and felt a small victory as he leaned back in his seat. `Take that! I can be calm and collected too.'

I heard him sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What happened Mione? It use to be we couldn't get you to stop talking. Now I can't wait to hear your voice, but you have nothing to say.”

I was quiet as our drinks arrived. I declined to order—food was the last thing on my mind. Harry followed my lead and also did not order. I took a big breath as I thought about what to say.

“Everything I say falls on deaf ears. Why waste my breath? Why get my hopes up that my best friend is actually going to stick around this time. You'll leave again. You always do.” I took a drink and dropped my eyes. I didn't want him to see that I didn't believe my own words. I didn't want him to see the hope in my eyes.

“How can you say that? The other day I told you that I was back for good.” He was leaning forward on the table looking at me in disbelief.

“Other day? That was over a week ago. No contact since then. For all I know you could have ran off again to god knows where. We use to talk everyday, see each other everyday. Then you left and I know why you left. I forgave you for that. Then you only show up every once in awhile and every time you say, `I'm back for good.' Only you weren't. That's what hurt--you leaving with no goodbye. The lies. Where have been? Where do you go? What am I suppose to think? I've heard the speech Harry, I just don't believe it anymore.” I sighed and fell back in my chair. There it is Harry, there is the truth. This is how I feel.

He took a deep breath and glanced out the window. Part of me regretted instantly what I had said, but it was how I felt. He needed to hear that. He should be thankful I left out the biggest part. I couldn't stop my hands from shaking or my eyes filling. I had always been emotional.

He quietly cleared his throat and kept his gaze to the window. In a voice almost too quiet to hear he stated, “I was figuring things out. Finding a flat, getting everything….settled.”

My head shot up. `Excuse me?' I thought. This was the first time this had been done. I couldn't help it. “You what?”

`Oh god!' The voice in my head started chanting. `See! See! I told you!'

He smiled at me. “I got a flat. Even has furniture. I still need to unpack though. Maybe you'd like to help…” His voice trailed off.

As he spoke, I took the time to grasp all of this by drinking my entire glass of water. `What was happening? None of this fit into my little compartments I had set up in my mind.' I was brought out of my thoughts when I began making that sound signals the emptiness of your glass. Very unladylike, but screw that.

I realized he was smirking then. “Here, I'll go get refills.” Harry took our glasses and proceeded to the counter at the back of the café.

I used this moment to study the new enigma of Harry Potter. He seemed the same, yet he didn't. He was taller and had seem to fill out that scrawniness that followed him all through school. (What had he been doing all this time?) He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. I had never seen something so plain look so…..delectable. Dear god……it was all I could do not to bang my head against the table. I had practically drooled in school all over him, but this is more than I can take.

I am so confused. I'm mad, hopeful, and…..well, let's not go there. The voice in me says believe him, go for it! `But,' I say in return, `he may not feel like I do. He may not want what I want. He may just want to restart our friendship.' And with that, I shut the door on that voice, terrified of what it may say next.

I watch as he walks back to the table. He is different, not in looks, but in presence. He is more alive. Not so confused and loaded down with worry. More sure of his purpose in life. I wonder what he thinks his purpose is now. He seems more confident--he knows who he is and doesn't question it. The old, scared little boy is officially gone, at least as far as I can see.

Harry places the glasses on the table and takes his seat. I sit there worrying my bottom lip between my teeth and I taste the metallic taste of blood.

“I wish you wouldn't do that.”

“Do what?” I ask.

“Worry yourself with what ifs and whys. Let go of it. Breath. Just, I don't know….”

“This is the only way I know how to be. I've never been any different. What do you expect?”

“Actually, I'd be lost if you'd act any different. I just don't like being that one that causes you to be this way.”

“Well you should have thought of that.”

“I want you to see it.” Ah, changing the subject. He looked hopeful. It was hard to hang on to my resolve and say no. Going with him would lead to nothing good.

“Why do you want me to see it?”

“I want your opinion on it. I know its mine already, but your opinion matters. It always has.”

I wanted to snort in disbelief. “My opinion didn't matter when you ran all over the world. Why now?”

“That's something I can't tell you right now. I will soon though, trust me.”

Trust him? I wanted to, but that would mean letting my guard down (which was so easy to do with Harry). “I want to trust you, Harry, really I do.”

“Then come with me. See my place. Let me prove to you that I'm here to stay.” His green eyes pleaded with mine.

“Fine. Okay.” I nodded my head and tried to smile.

His smile was breathtaking. My heart flipped at the thought that I made that happen. Harry jumped out of his seat immediately and grabbed my hand. I was once again pulled out of the dark and into the sun.

“How far is it?” I couldn't help but ask. I hated not knowing what was going on. I also need to get back to a thing called a job, but that wasn't really in the front of my mind.

He stopped, looked at me, and said, “Don't worry about it. We're close. I'll get you back to work.” He once again turned and began walking.

His strides weren't long, so I didn't have to hurry to keep up like with some people who shall remain nameless. I was able to walk along side him. His grip on my hand was soft and it was a comfort to hold his hand and have him tug me along the busy streets of London.

As we walked along, I took another look at him (I couldn't help it). The way the sun glinted off his dark, messy hair. The peaceful look in his eyes (that had never been there before). The way he walked—back straight, eyes forward. It would be so easy, but that's not what he wanted. It's not what I wanted anymore.

It seemed we hadn't been walking all that long, but I didn't really know. We were in front of a building in muggle London. Would I expect anything else? He hated fame. This gave him the annanimity that he wanted.

“This is it. I'm on the third floor.” He stood on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets rocking back and forth on his heals.

I looked up to the third floor windows and pictured him standing there looking out on the world. Picturing myself coming down the front stairs in the morning on my way to work. Arriving home at night, coming through the front door and into his arms. That was what I wanted when I got our, sorry, my house. Us, together, being normal for once. Who was I kidding? Normal eluded us everyday of our lives. And that wasn't what I wanted anymore….right?

I finally looked up at him and notice him watching me again, smiling. He needed more to do….

His smile got bigger, if possible. Harry then ran up the stairs and unlocked the door. I followed him into the build and we began walking up the stairs to his floor. I missed holding his hand.

We finally arrived at his door and I stood silently as he unlocked it. I wonder what I would see.

He pushed the door open and held his arm out. I walked pass him into the sunny room. Harry's place was very open and had lots of sunlight streaming in. He had room to breath now. He wasn't locked up anymore. I briefly wondered if he was claustrophobic.

He quietly shut the door behind him and watched me look around. “What do you think?”

I chose to not answer and to keep looking. He hadn't done much in unpacking, he was right. He did have some photographs up. Some of his parents, others of the three of us. I was shocked to see one of me studying. It was a muggle photo, so it was still. But my hair was whipping around me as I read. I don't remember the location, but it must have been somewhere around school, outside on the grounds.

“Had to have one of you in your element.” I felt him standing close behind me.

“I didn't even know it was taken. Where did you get it?” So I could thank them. I had never seen myself look so serene.

“Ginny. She had that old muggle camera from her dad. Remember, she went around taking photos of everything during our seventh year. I think she was scared things were going to be different…….afterwards.” He reached around me and pick up the picture from the shelf.

“Things were different and they've never been the same since.” I begin to walk around the living area and very quietly say, “Things could have been so different.”

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