A/N: I'm afraid this is another chapter that focuses on plot. The good news is that after this chapter, we can finally get to that house.
Chapter Ten
"Hermione, an owl came in for you this morning." Ginny crossed the kitchen, holding out a letter in her hand. "It's from Hogwarts."
Hermione frowned, taking the letter from Ginny and noticing the telltale Hogwarts seal. "Thanks, Ginny."
"Don't mention it." Ginny said, moving around her and casually bumping Hermione's shoulder. As she passed, she leaned in and murmured into her ear, "Harry was staring."
Hermione's brow creased, and she opened her mouth, unable to say a word. With a smirk, Ginny strode out of the kitchen, hop-skipping over a somewhat grumpy-looking Crookshanks.
Hermione stared after Ginny, her mind going back to the conversation she and Harry had with Adrian earlier this morning.
"It was you, then, that kissed Hermione this morning?"
And he'd said yes. Hermione felt herself blush pleasantly, an embarrassingly giddy smile threatening to fix itself firmly upon her lips.
"Aren't you going to read it?" Ron broke Hermione's reverie. She started, then said, in a rather flustered tone, "Oh-yes, of course!"
She looked down and broke the seal, pulling out a piece of parchment covered in an unfamiliar, spindly handwriting.
She scanned the letter, her eyebrows shooting upwards on her forehead.
Dear Miss Granger,
You will be interested to know that I have recommended you for training as a Healer at Saint Mungo's. It is no secret that your grades in both Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts were exceptional, and you have had an unusual amount of experience in the use of both fields in the past conflicts. You may wonder at this decision, considering you have not taken your N.E.W.Ts, but all things considered, all of your professors at Hogwarts consider you advanced enough to take on the enormous responsibility that being a Healer entails. If you would like to take this training, please meet Healer Pruitt in the lobby at St. Mungo's at five o'clock this Thursday.
With best wishes,
Madame Poppy Pomfrey
"Well?"
Hermione jumped as Harry's voice came close to her ear. He straightened, though he didn't quite look at her properly. He cleared his throat and took a step back.
Hermione felt her heart flutter oddly at the strange look on his face. He had a sort of strained smile on his face, but his jaw was tense, and everything in his green eyes told her exactly what he wanted her to do.
"What do you think?" he said, with a forced cheerfulness. Hermione's eyes were rather wide, as though she couldn't quite take it in.
Neither could he.
He knew Hermione deserved this; Merlin knows she was the best witch he knew… of course she'd get a job like this, the sort of job that saved lives, that required the best of wizardkind…
But something in him wanted to beg her not to do it. It was stupid, really, but somehow he knew that taking a course like this would severely limit the time he would have to spend with her.
But she deserved this. She wanted this, he could tell. And he would encourage her to take it for that reason.
"I'm-not sure," she said faintly, staring blankly ahead. "It's such a huge responsibility, and I'm not… I'm not sure I'm good enough to be a Healer."
"Hermione," Harry said with difficulty, forcing a laugh. "You're the brightest witch of your age. I know you could do it if you wanted to."
He put his hand on her shoulder, his voice softening.
"Hermione, if you want this, you'll be the best Healer in history."
She turned suddenly, looking rather frightened.
"But what if I'm not?" she whispered, so softly only Harry could hear it. "What if I can't?"
"Then Gryffindor will still win the Cup, Ron will still beat me in every chess game, Ginny will still spend hours in Madame Malkin's, and Neville will always bring some absurd plant to family dinners." He smiled sincerely, wanting to reassure her. It was what he did. "And I'll always be here."
Her uncertainty faded, and a brilliant smile appeared on her face.
"I know you will," she said softly, sliding her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Will you come with me?"
"Anywhere," he promised quietly, feeling a tingle of warmth travel through his body.
"Shut your mouth." Ginny muttered to Ron, whose jaw had dropped in mid-chew. "That's disgusting. And don't you dare say a word, Ronald Weasley, or we'll see who was exaggerating about the power of my Bat-Bogey hex."
She glanced with a slight smile at Harry and Hermione, who were still holding each other in the middle of the kitchen.
"It's only a matter of time now," she murmured with a wistful sort of satisfaction. "They've finally noticed something."
"You know what? I think you just like this sort of stuff," Ron said rather resignedly. "I'll never understand it."
"There's a lot of things you'll never understand, Ron-and that-" she lowered her voice and jerked her head toward Harry and Hermione, who had finally let go of one another, "is one of them."
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