A/N - thank you for your reviews! Just a warning, this is short and angsty and takes place after the worst bit of professional writing I've ever read (yes, I'm talking about the epilogue) so it is canon. But don't fret, there is no warm hot fuzzy's at all in this chapter. Enjoy.
Chapter 2
Nineteen and a half years later
Hesitating, Harry stood on the top step and looked at the door, thinking, not for the first time, whether he was doing the right thing. But the events of two days ago had disturbed him more than he liked and he knew that he had to find out the truth otherwise he'd drive himself mental.
Taking a deep, calming breath, he knocked on the door and waited for the occupant of the house to answer. It didn't take too long before a woman who he'd known for more than half his life was standing there in front of him.
"Hey Hermione," he greeted with a smile, trying to ignore the look of shock that covered her face.
"Harry," she stammered, "my, this is a surprise. Er, Ron isn't here - he's with Hugo at that Quidditch thing that you suggested they'd go to…"
"I know," Harry cut in, still smiling what he knew was a stiff smile, "I actually wanted to have a chat with you. Can I come in?"
"Sure," she said after the briefest of hesitations, "come on through."
Harry entered the home of Ron and Hermione and their two children, Rose and Hugo. He knew this house as well as he knew his own - small, clean and tidy with a healthy dose of Weasley clutter in places that were definitely Ron's domain. Harry liked it here better than the mansion that Ginny had insisted they buy, liking the more homely feel rather than cold marble floors and too many rooms to live in of his own house.
"How've you been?" he asked as he followed Hermione into the kitchen, noting absently how tired she looked.
"Okay, I guess," she replied, putting the kettle on and getting out two cups ready for tea, "missing Rosie like you wouldn't believe."
"Oh, I can believe it," Harry said, still trying to smile, "when James went that first year, I was a wreck!"
"Really?" she questioned, glancing at him briefly with surprise before going back to her tea making, "I would've never guessed."
"That's strange," he chuckled a laugh that had no humour in it, "because once upon a time you could read me like a book, know how I was feeling before I did…"
"Why are you here, Harry?" Hermione cut in with a frown.
"Do you realise that you and I never spoke at Kings Cross?" he said directly, finally catching her eye, "that when we saw our kids off, we spoke to everyone else but each other?" He watched as she thought about it and could see the realisation cross her face, but she stayed silent. Determined now, he asked the question that had been on his mind since his two - James and Albus - and little Rosie, Ron and Hermione's eldest, went off to Hogwarts.
"When did you and I stop being friends, Hermione?"
"I think you already know the answer to that," she replied, her voice hard. Her lack of denial and quick response to his question highlighted to Harry even further what he guessed was true - they weren't friends any more, just acquaintances.
"Since Ginny accused us of having an affair two years ago," he answered his own question with a deep sigh as he watched Hermione fight back tears, still not able to look at him, "we did nothing wrong, Hermione."
"That's not what Ginny thought," she whispered, "and Ron. In fact, you shouldn't be here, Harry. If she finds out, your marriage will be over."
"My marriage is pretty much over already, and you know that," he told her quietly, "but that's not why I'm here. I miss you, Hermione, I miss us, our friendship…"
"I miss us too," she admitted sadly.
"I started thinking," he continued, his eyes never leaving her, "thinking about you and me, all the years we've known each other. I just sat in my study, with the lights off and the doors locked, remembering how many times you saved me at Hogwarts, how many times you helped me, looked after me. How you alone stood by me when no-one else did, not even Ron.
"And then I remembered the night in the tent, a night I had told myself that I'd never forget - do you remember when I'm talking about, Hermione? Just before Ron came back?"
"Yes."
"You made a promise to me, to help people remember the good things about me if I didn't make it through," he told her gently, "and that you'd only remember me with a smile. You got so upset that I'd even consider the thought that I'd die, and you were so certain I wouldn't. I should've known you'd be right, you so often are…"
"Harry…"
"The more I thought about that night," he carried on, ignoring her weak attempt at an interruption, "the more I remembered, something clicked in my brain. I couldn't believe I hadn't worked it out sooner because if I had, we wouldn't be in the mess we are now…"
"Please…"
"The memories, the thoughts of everything that has happened since then just confirmed what I finally let myself admit these last few years. That the love I feel for you isn't platonic, isn't the love a brother feels for a sister. It's real and it's true and it's stronger than anything I've felt for Ginny…"
"Don't do this…"
"But I need to know something, Hermione," he pleaded, standing right in front of her, wanting desperately to reach out and wipe her tears away but knowing it would be too much, "and I need you to tell me the truth. Have you ever been in love with me?"
"You know I can't answer that!" she cried, moving away from him to the other side of the table.
"Yes, you can," he said, turning so he could continue to watch her.
"No, I can't," she hissed, "there are too many…anything I say will hurt too many people!"
"Don't you think the lives we're living are already hurting the people we love?" Harry pressed on, "I know James and Albie realise that Ginny and I aren't in love anymore and I get the feeling Rose…"
"You leave my daughter out of this!"
"She knows, Hermione," he told her gently, "I've seen her watching us with an understanding. She's very smart, that girl, just like her mother."
"It doesn't matter!" she nearly screamed, "don't you get it, Harry? It doesn't matter! Even if you left Ginny and I left Ron, we could never be together - our families, our lives are too intertwined! Our children would lose their grandparents! They would be mocked, ridiculed, by everyone - I will not let that happen!"
"Do you think I want that?" he replied, his voice still calm, "I don't, I really don't. But I can't go on living this lie, being in a marriage which has no love in it anymore. Ginny and I are through, it's time to move on…"
"So you thought you'd come over here and see if I'm willing to take Ginny's place?" she scoffed, angry.
"No, of course not," he said, slightly hurt, "I love you…"
"Why couldn't you have come to that conclusion sooner!" she yelled, tears running down her face, "why now? Why, after nearly twenty-seven years of knowing me, you finally realise that you love me? It makes no sense! Actually, it makes perfect sense - you've fallen out of love with your wife so you tell yourself that I'm the next best thing…"
"Hermione…"
"No, Harry, no," she growled, "you asked me have I ever been in love with you and the answer is yes, I have - since fourth year, actually. The trouble is, I've never fallen out of love with you, do you understand that? You have always been the most important man in my life, always. But you didn't want me so I made myself love Ron, your best friend. He's given me a good life and two beautiful children and I'm not going to leave him just because you've finally realised something I knew twenty-four years ago.
"So instead I'll keep on loving you, like I have done for so long I don't know any different, and pretend to love my husband just as much. And you? You can sort your own shit out because I really can't deal with it.
"Now, I think you should leave my home and not come back. If you really love me, like you say you do, then you'll respect my wishes. Seeing you just make things so much more difficult."
"I'm sorry," he began, but she cut him off.
"Don't be sorry, Harry," she snapped, "just do the right thing and leave me alone."
Harry looked at her and with a sinking heart, realised the mess he'd just made. Nodding, he turned and made his way back to the door, feeling her watching him. Just as he was about to leave, he heard her call out his name. Turning, he looked at her.
"You know that night in the tent? The night I made those promises to you?" He nodded once more and she continued, "I lied."
"Lied?"
"I told you I couldn't be like you, that I couldn't hide my emotions away like you did. That was a lie - I'm more like you than I care to admit. In fact, I've become so good at hiding how I feel about you, I no longer know if it's real or not."
With that, Hermione turned on her heel and left him standing there with one hand on the doorknob, ready to go. Fighting back tears, he turned the knob and then left.
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