More important things
Chapter 1: The Hazards of Brooding
It had been nearly dawn when Harry finished off the last of his fire whiskey and dragged himself upstairs to bed. So he was quite annoyed when his sleep was interrupted by his being levitated out of his warm bed and dropped unceremoniously onto the cold hard floor of his bedroom. He made to stand but between his spinning, whiskey addled brain and his being tangled in his own bed covers he ended up collapsing back onto the floor in a heap.
Hermione's voice filled the room.
"Kreacher's making breakfast. You should shower before you come down."
The tone of her voice made it clear that her words were neither a statement nor a request but a command. He knew without looking that she was wearing that stony expression that often covered her face when she was angry or otherwise displeased with him. Kicking his legs free of the covers he'd been tangled in Harry rose to his feet with a grunt and plodded heavily into the bathroom.
As he turned on the tap for the shower and stripped off the clothes he'd worn the previous day Harry admitted to himself that he had been expecting this visit for quite some time now. He hadn't seen Hermione, or any of his other friends for that matter, since the Christmas holidays; it was now mid February. He supposed that Hermione had taken it upon herself to come and see whether he was occupied with his auror training or whether something was actually wrong. Then again Kreacher had shown that he was quite proficient in tattling to Hermione when he found his master's behavior unmanageable.
Harry stepped into the shower and stuck his face under hot spray of the tap. Groping blindly his fingers fumbled until they closed around the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shelf; pouring a dollop into his hand he attacked his scalp. Normally he wouldn't have bothered with shampooing his hair, he knew a very good cleansing charm that handled the job well enough for daily use, but as Hermione was downstairs in the kitchen waiting to lecture him about his current activities he needed all the time he could get to compose himself.
Fifteen minutes later Harry emerged from his shower scrubbed clean from head to foot. A glance around the room told him that Hermione had tidied up. He knew it was Hermione and not Kreacher by the scent of the freshening charm that hung in the air; her charm always produced a spicy, woodsy type of smell, Kreacher's was closer to pine. Looking around Harry saw that the rubbish bin had been emptied of its overflowing contents, the floor was likewise devoid of the detritus of unused and forgotten items and articles of clothing that were sorely in need of the laundry. The mass of unopened and unanswered post that had littered the dresser had been sorted into piles and was considerably smaller; this was unquestionably Hermione's work. Harry had developed a bit of dislike for strict organization and tidiness, a carryover from his years with the Dursleys. Kreacher, and everyone close to him, knew this and made a point of leaving Harry's personal space a little bit lived in; Hermione was the only one who ever got away with such austere meticulousness with his things. Walking over to the freshly changed and made bed his eyes drifted to the clock resting on his bedside table, it was half past seven; sighing he picked up his wand and waving it in the direction of his dresser summoned himself something suitable to wear to breakfast.
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Some ten minutes later Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing an ominous scowl. His drinking binge from the night before coupled with Hermione's wake up call had left him with quite a headache. He dropped down into the chair across from Hermione. Kreacher promptly appeared at his side and deposited a cup and a bowl in front of him. Harry looked down at the coffee and porridge sitting before him. A frown blossomed across Harry's face as he considered the beige mass before him; since the horcrux hunt neither he nor Hermione had held much fondness for mushrooms and porridge, Hermione must be awfully cheesed off if this was her idea of breakfast.
As if reading his mind Hermione spoke from the other side of the table. "You need something warm and substantial in you and considering the amount of drinking you've been doing I didn't think rashers and eggs was a good idea."
Harry nodded mutely and winced.
With a small sympathetic smile Hermione added, "You may want to drink the coffee first; it should help your head."
Harry picked up his coffee cup and drained the contents in two mouthfuls. He then picked up his spoon and began shoveling porridge into his mouth. As he ate Hermione made no attempt at conversation, she merely sat studying him as though she were trying to discern the reason for his brooding. Harry's spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, signaling that he was done. Hermione, who had risen from the table a moment before refilled Harry's cup and removed his bowl, in its place she deposited a saucer bearing two pieces of toast slathered with marmalade. He smiled gratefully and wolfed the pieces of toast down as he finished off his second cup of coffee.
When he was done he looked across the table at Hermione who was quietly sipping a cup of coffee and gruffly said, "Thanks."
She nodded and said, "You're welcome."
They sat in silence for a few minutes more as Hermione finished her coffee. Once she was done she again rose from her seat and taking hers and Harry's breakfast things to the sink set about washing up.
Harry rose from his seat as well and grabbing her wrist stated, "Leave it, Kreacher'd do his nut if he found you doing the washing up, he likes to feel useful." Harry made for the door, pulling Hermione along in his wake, and added; "besides I don't think you came all the way from Hogwarts before seven in the morning on a Saturday to do the washing up."
Harry made his way through the house and up the stairs to the second floor lounge. A blazing fire burned in the grate, no doubt set by Kreacher. Harry flopped down on the couch, pulling Hermione down beside him. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes.
Hermione toed off her shoes and curled her legs underneath her body and staring at Harry's motionless profile asked, "How's your head?"
Harry replied without opening his eyes, "Better… what was in the coffee, hangover or reversal of drunkenness potion?"
"Neither." Hermione paused as Harry opened his eyes and turned to stare at her quizzically before she went on, "It was Carouser's Comfort, its George's latest product. It combines hangover, headache and reversal of drunkenness potions along with a dash of pepper - up potion. Ron says its become one of their best sellers."
Harry smiled and tapping his temple muttered, "I can see why, perhaps I should buy a case or two of the stuff to keep on hand just in case."
Hermione frowned. Harry could tell she was resisting the urge to scold him about his excess the evening before she managed to master the impulse and instead asked, "How is your training coming along?" Harry gave a noncommittal shrug as he replied. "Fine, a bit taxing but that's to be expected it being auror training and all."
Hermione bobbed her head up and down in agreement and added a second query. "What's it like, I mean do you have lessons like at Hogwarts or is it more actual in the field type instruction?"
Harry considered the question for a few minutes before responding. "There are lessons and there is in field instruction but there are other things as well," he paused for a second before continuing, "we're tested on all sorts of things… physical endurance, reflexes, mental acuity, knowledge of potions, spells, charms, curses, and hexes, basic healing, defense tactics and strategy, things like that. And we study previous missions and field operations to see what techniques and strategies worked and which ones didn't. We have to sort out why things happened the way they did and sometimes we run drills recreating elements of the missions we've studied to see which of our suggested theories would actually work."
"Sounds like it's really intense."
Harry nodded. "It is. There's a lot of studying involved as well. I spend half my free time in the bloody Ministry archives looking up information and I'm now on a first name basis with the entire staff of Flourish and Blotts and Culpepper's Manuscriptorium."
Hermione smiled at the hint of annoyance in his voice over the amount of studying he had to do. "And how are you getting on with your fellow trainees, made any new friends?"
His expression suddenly went neutral as he tersely responded, "Training isn't exactly the place to make friends Hermione."
Her brow furrowed in worry as she stared at his expressionless face and stated, "The other trainees are giving you a hard time."
Harry sighed as he averted his gaze from Hermione. Sometimes he hated the fact that she was so damn intuitive where he was concerned. He didn't particularly care to discuss his troubles with the other trainees and he wasn't altogether sure that he could endure any of Hermione's kind and considerate compassion at the moment given his recent realizations about his feelings for her as he had yet to decide what he planned to do about said feelings.
His mind drifted back to the Christmas holidays and the moment he'd accepted that his feelings for Hermione were much more than friendly and far too improper to be considered remotely brotherly. They were at the Burrow sitting through another of Mrs. Weasley's marathon listening of Celestina Warbeck's greatest hits. To amuse herself Fleur had charmed and warded the doorway leading to the kitchen to immobilize any two persons passing in the doorway under the mistletoe that hung there until they kissed full on the lips. So far Fleur's little diversion had caught Neville and Ginny, George and Angelina and Percy and Luna. The last had resulted in Ron laughing uproariously at Percy's baffled expression over Luna's rambling discourse on the dangers of Nargles and their preoccupations with tonsils. Molly had demanded that all the pranks and tomfoolery and everyone thought that Fleur had obliged her mother-in-laws wishes, but Harry was soon to find that that was not the case.
He had been exiting the kitchen as Hermione had been entering it. When they passed each other in the doorway they each felt the effects of the charm. Harry had looked around at Fleur who was smiling mischievously at the immobilized couple as she made a gesture with her hand that seemed to be saying 'Get on with it'. Apparently Hermione had glanced at Fleur as well because she'd said something about it seeing as how it was Christmas who was she to buck tradition. The next thing Harry knew Hermione was rising on her tiptoes and pressing her soft lips against his. At the feel of her lips he had been inundated with images from the previous kiss they'd shared and his body had recalled how wonderful Hermione had felt pressed against. He had also been reminded of how badly he had wanted her that evening in the entryway of that tent; he was reminded of how he had wanted to do much more than kiss her. Reflexively he had pushed his lips more firmly against hers, prolonging the kiss by a second or two more. As she drew away from him a sudden urge to haul her back to him and kiss her soundly and properly rushed through his him, and then it was over. He felt the enchantment as it loosed its hold on him and Hermione walked into the kitchen without a backwards glance, seemingly unaffected by the whole affair.
Harry had made his way to seat at the back of the room more than a bit dazed over what had happened. He was so confounded by the realization that he was harboring amorous feeling for Hermione that he hadn't been able to deny the source of his sudden anxiety when Luna had taken a seat beside him and asked if he was contemplating his true feelings for Hermione. Needing someone to talk to and having always found solace in Luna and her unnerving insightfulness, Harry had excused himself and Luna on the pretext of his seeing her home safely, which he did. It was there, at Luna's, over fire whiskey and lemon arts that Harry came to understand why he had called things off with Ginny and why he had such misgivings about Ron and Hermione as a couple; he wanted her for himself, he was in love with Hermione.
"Harry!"
"Wha…what?" Harry stammered bemusedly, having been snapped out of his remembrances by the sound of Hermione's voice.
She was looking at him questioningly, her left eyebrow arched slightly as she asked, "Harry where were you just now I asked if the other trainees were giving you a hard time and you went all quiet," she paused and sat up a bit straighter as she posed her next question, "what are they doing to you?"
Harry took in the steely glint in Hermione's eye and the hard set of her jaw, the clipped tone of her voice and quickly ascertained that she was envisioning his fellow trainees attempting to cause him harm. Hastily he replied. "No one's doing anything to anyone," her eyes narrowed suspiciously as he continued on, "its no more than the usual; there the over awed half who can't walk past me without whispering and going all wide-eyed because it's the Harry Potter, the Boy - Who - Lived, the Chosen One. And then there's the other half who reckon I'm a big headed, show off who got lucky a few times and hasn't got much real talent so he relies on his famous name and his well connected friends. Quite a few of the trainees think I used my friendship with Kingsley to get in the program to begin with."
Harry hadn't meant for the bitter edge to creep into his voice but it was hard to hide once he'd gotten himself into a good flow. Hermione expelled a breath of air and smiled sympathetically as she intoned, "It is a bit wearing." It was Harry's turn to sit up straight and look on suspiciously as he inquired after how things were going for Hermione. "What's wrong? Has someone done something to upset you?"
She shook her head as she replied, "Nothing's wrong per se, its just… is like you said, there's the staring and whispering and people feeling as though its perfectly all right to stroll up to you in the middle of your dinner and ask the most ridiculously questions about the horcrux hunt. Twits like Romilda Vane and her crowd constantly asking if you're seeing anyone and what kinds of women you prefer. Trying to get through classes and decide what I want to do with the rest of my life as well as making time for having something that vaguely resembles a personal life. And I'm on my own most of the time with no one to talk to so…"
Harry cut in. "On your own, what about Ginny and Luna and Neville, what about everyone else from our year who came back to finish out their seventh year and take their N.E.W.T.s?"
Hermione shrugged. "Well its not exactly like I ever ran in the same circles as Lavender and Pavrati or Seamus and Dean. Neville's always good for a chat when he's around which is hardly ever, considering how popular and confident he's become since the battle; and Luna's been wonderful we've gotten quite close she and I but as we are in different houses and have very different classes we seldom see each other…"
Again Harry interrupted. "And what about Ginny you two've always been rather close, why aren't the two of you spending time together?"
Hermione sighed, "Ginny's spending a lot of time on her Quidditch as she's captain and she wants to make a go of it as a professional player," Hermione paused and gnawing her lower lip nervously for several seconds before she said "to be honest Ginny hasn't had much use for me since you called things off with her."
Harry frowned; he had ended things with Ginny before she'd returned to Hogwarts. In the aftermath of the war he and Ginny had attempted to rekindle their romance from before but Harry had found that he was not the same person he had been. He found that all he had been through, all the losses and the general unpredictability of his moods were too much to deal with along with Ginny's expectations. There was the further issue of his simply not feeling as drawn to her as he once had. After speaking to Hermione at length about the matter Harry had come to the conclusion that it was best for them both if they ended things before the situation became more muddled than it already was. Suddenly, Harry realized the problem. "She's upset with you on account of me calling things off with her."
With a deep sigh Hermione nodded her head. "She knows that you asked me what you should do and she thinks I could have done a bit more to encourage you to give things between the two of you more time."
Harry shook his head, "Hermione I'm..." She waved off his words. "Its all right really. Ginny will come around eventually once she gets over her hurt feelings. Its just a bit lonely sometimes watching everyone else with their friends having a laugh as they head off to Hogsmeade when my best friend is off starting his brilliant career as an auror while I'm sat in the library looking up ingredients for potions."
"Is that why you're here?" Harry's question hung in the air between them for several moments before Hermione inclined her head. "I got special permission from Professor McGonagall to floo here today instead of going to Hogsmeade with everyone else. I came early thinking we could make a day of it but when I arrived Kreacher informed me that you were on a bender and he made it sound like this had become a regular habit of yours so…"
Harry interjected. "So you came upstairs in a huff and dropped me on my bloody head!" She nodded the asked, "Is this drinking yourself into a stupor becoming a standard activity for you?"
Pressing his lips together, Harry sighed and closed his eyes as he answered back. "I've only ever been that pissed one other time," he paused to expel a second sigh before adding, "but I have been drinking a bit more than the occasional butterbeer here and there."
He could feel the reproachful glare he knew she was leveling at him. "Harry, that's not the type of habit you need to start in on. It's not healthy to start and as you have a tendency to brood when you're upset or stressed with you training to be an auror by the time you're fully qualified you'll be a bloody alcoholic!"
Though he knew she hadn't meant it to be funny the picture Hermione had painted of him in his mind's eye staggering around in soiled and unkempt auror's robes with a bottle of fire whiskey in his hand set his shoulders shaking with mirth. Thinking that Harry was having a laugh at her concern, Hermione snapped her mouth tightly shut and folded her arms across her chest and stared out of the snow dusted windows a clearly annoyed and affronted expression covering her face.
Seeing that his laughter had upset her, Harry composed himself and reaching across the space separating them pulled Hermione into his arms, "I wasn't laughing at you I was laughing at the rather comical picture you painted of me… the great Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, a common drunk, you have to admit the image is somewhat funny." A smile ghosted across her face as she bit her lip and conceded, "That is funny actually." Harry playfully tugged one of her russet colored curls and said, "I'm sorry that I haven't been much of a friend lately."
Hermione shook her head and answered in reply. "You don't have to apologize I know that you've been busy and I understand that you are under a fair amount of pressure right now," Hermione turned and wrapped her arms snugly about Harry's waist and rested her head against his shoulder as she whispered, "I've just missed you."
Harry shut his eyes and summoned every ounce of willpower in his possession to stop his heart from beating out a tattoo similar to that of a herd of stampeding Hippogriffs. Taking a deep breath to steady himself in replied in a hoarse whisper "I've missed you too." He felt her smile as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. Instinctively he wrapped his arms more tightly about her and rested his jaw atop her bushy hair. He allowed himself a minute to fix the moment in his memory before he disentangled himself from her and stood to his feet, extending his hand to her he said, "Come on, up you get, we've already wasted two hours, you'll be due back at Hogwarts soon and we'll have spent the whole day moping about." Hermione smiled brightly as she jammed her feet back into her shoes and took Harry's hand.
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Harry and Hermione left Grimmauld Place and headed to the nearest tube station and made their way to Whiteley's shopping centre and Portobello Market to do a big of browsing and bumming about. After an hour or so of that they had worked up a rather fierce appetite having had such a meager breakfast so they stopped in one of the pubs along Baker Street and had lunch. From there they decided to look in on Hermione's mum and dad, who were immensely pleased to see them both. They whiled away an hour or two there before leaving to catch some French film that Helen had thought Hermione would love to see. Jonathan had warned Harry that it wasn't the sort of thing that a bloke was likely to enjoy but as Hermione wanted to see it and they only had the one afternoon to see it Harry had made up his mind to endure it. It turned out that the chance to sit in a darkened movie theater with Hermione's fingers woven into his own had been worth trying to sort out the subtitles flashing across the screen. After the movie they stopped for a coffee before strolling back to Grimmauld Place.
It had been a perfect day and Harry was more than a little reluctant to see it end but Hermione had to get back to Hogwarts. Standing in front of the kitchen fireplace Hermione turned to Harry and wrapped him in a tight, warm hug. "Thank you for today, it was really nice being able to get away for a bit."
Harry returned the hug and murmured, "Yeah it was really nice." Hermione smiled, "Maybe sometime you could come up to Hogwarts and we could go and visit Ron at the Hogsmeade store, he'd love to see you. Harry nodded and said something that sounded like 'Yeah maybe'. Hermione tightened her hold just a bit before stepping back and reminding him of his promises to owl more often and to cut back on the drinking. Harry promised that he would. Seemingly satisfied with his assurances Hermione hugged him once more and brushed a kiss against his left cheek before turning and tossing a handful of shimmering green powder into the flames. As the flames turned emerald Hermione stepped inside the fireplace called out 'Private Head Girl's quarters Hogwarts School' with a contented smile and a wave she went swirling out of view.
Harry stood there watching the flames turn back to their normal orangey red, his fingers delicately rubbing the spot where Hermione's lips had touched his cheek. He had spent the last seven or so weeks trying to put as much distance between himself and Hermione as he was certain that remaining so close to her given his feelings for her was not the best idea. After all it would only have been torture for him being so near her but unable to confess how he truly felt for her out of deference to his long standing friendship with Ron. And now he'd gone and promised her that he wouldn't hide himself away from her anymore. Moreover, he also promised her that he would stop drinking so now he didn't even have an outlet to aid him in more despairing moments. But ever since the horcrux hunt he'd found it difficult to deny her anything considering what she had sacrificed for him. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair as he wondered just what in the name of Merlin had he gotten himself into.
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