Scar by Gluglug
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all the characters in it belong to J.K. Rowling. No infringement intended, just borrowing.
A/N: I found this one shot on my hard drive - it was written before DH came out. I wrote it because JKR never really followed up on Hermione's near death experience in the DoM or the possible scar she might have received.
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Hermione Granger stepped out onto the terrace of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The sun was setting on a warm early June evening. She had spent the entire day in the Black Library researching a lead Harry and Ron had found on the last remaining Horcrux, only taking brief breaks for meals, while the boys went out on another search with Remus Lupin. Hermione didn't like it when her boys went out without her, but she knew that Remus wouldn't let them get into too much trouble.
As she watched the blood red sunset, she let out a long sigh as she realized that nearly a year had passed since Professor Dumbledore's death and exactly two since Sirius Black disappeared through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. Hermione's thoughts wandered to Harry, as they often did, and she wondered if he realized that this was the second anniversary of his beloved godfather's passing.
Harry didn't talk much about Sirius; in fact, he hadn't really spoken of him at all since his death.
It always bothered her that Harry never really openly grieved for him, not the way he had for Dumbledore. Then again, Sirius had no funeral; no ceremony to mark his passing nor did he have a grave. He just disappeared on that fateful day two years ago.
Hermione felt a slight twinge near her heart and remembered the searing pain she felt when Dolohov hit her with that silent curse. She had a physical reminder, too - a pale pinkish streak right above her breasts, something that had only been seen by Madam Pomfrey and her parents. She only thought about her scar on occasion, usually when she looked in the mirror as she dressed. Her scar was nothing like Harry's - his was on his forehead for the world to see.
Hermione never talked much about what had happened to her that day, but it still scared her. She had been right all along that they had walked into a trap. Even though she knew better, she did it for Harry. She was always doing it for him. She had tried to distance herself a little from him their sixth year and concentrate on being a normal teenaged witch, but Dumbledore's death ended that. Her primary focus, again, was Harry and his quest to defeat Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters.
"Enjoying the sunset?" A familiar voice interrupted her reverie.
Hermione smiled. Harry had returned from his outing and came to stand beside her.
"Oh yes, it's lovely. I've been in the library all day, and just wanted some air. So how did it go today?"
Harry shrugged, "Same old, same old. We knew where Ollivander was hiding out, but when we got there, he had gone. Nobody we talked to know where he went. I don't think we're ever going to find him or the Horcrux we suspect he has."
"We'll find it, Harry," she promised him, for the millionth time. "Where's Ron?"
"He apparated to the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley's making his favorite meatloaf for dinner, so he couldn't pass it up. He asked me to go with him, but I wasn't in the mood to deal with Ginny and her not so subtle hints that she wants to get back together."
Hermione looked at Harry's profile. "She's not giving up, is she?"
"Yeah, she sent me an owl the other day, saying how much she misses me, and couldn't I take a break from saving the world to have a picnic with her. Why can't she take a hint?"
"Harry, sometimes you just have to be blunt and tell her that you aren't interested in her anymore. It might hurt, but it will allow her to move on."
"I suppose you're right, Hermione."
"I always am, you know," she smirked.
Harry frowned and faced her; Hermione noticed how tired and defeated he looked. "Well, I will deal with Ginny when I'm ready. I have other things to focus on, as you well know. I can't believe we've been on this hunt for nearly a year. When we left Hogwarts, I thought maybe by now we'd be done with it."
"Well, you need to be patient. I know it's hard but you have to hang in there."
"I know. I guess I'm just feeling a little down today. You do know what today is, don't you?" Harry asked, as he rested his elbows on top of the terrace wall.
Hermione nodded, surprised that Harry acknowledged it. "Yes, the anniversary of Sirius' death."
"It's been two years," sighed Harry. "Where did the time go?"
"Harry, why don't you ever talk about him?" Hermione asked pointedly.
"Sirius? What's there to say? He's gone and I'll never see him again," he replied bitterly.
"I know. It's just that the summer after he died, we never talked about how you were feeling.
I never really saw you grieve for him. I mean, he didn't even have a funeral."
"Hermione, why would I want to talk about it?" Harry said, his voice rising. "We both know that it was my fault he died. I'm the idiot who was tricked into thinking that Voldemort had him, and you knew better. I should've listened to you instead of shouting at you."
"You did listen to me, remember?" Hermione replied fiercely. "I asked you to check to see if Sirius was at home and we snuck into Umbridge's office to use her fireplace. It's not your fault that Kreacher lied to you."
"I should've known that Kreacher was lying. He hated Sirius and vice versa. I was so stupid."
"Harry, you're not to blame for his death. Bellatrix was - she killed her own cousin! And if you believe you were stupid then so was I because I went along with you, even though I had my doubts," Hermione said impatiently.
"If you still had your doubts, why did you come, then?" Harry asked, sounding equally impatient.
"Because I had no choice! I had to make sure that you didn't get yourself killed."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, that's ironic, given you were the one who was nearly killed."
The impact of Harry's words hit her. She had always known that, but they never spoke of it before.
"That's right," she nodded, feeling tears threatening. "I could've died."
Harry turned to look at her, the last of the setting rays reflected in his glasses. "For a moment there, I thought you had," he said softly.
"You thought I had d-died?" Hermione asked, her voice breaking.
"Yeah," Harry continued. "I panicked and fell to my knees and Neville tried to help and one of the Death Eaters kicked him in the face and broke his nose. But even with a broken nose and blood everywhere, Neville kept it together. I, on the other hand, was a right mess, I couldn't think properly or even breathe. I couldn't even look at your face, because I thought you were dead. Then Neville had the good sense to check your pulse and told me that you were still alive. When I heard that, I nearly passed out from relief."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed, as tears flowed down her face. She embraced him then, burying her head on his shoulder. "I had no idea that you went through all of that. I mean Neville told me later that you helped him carry me to safety and I knew about his nose, but I didn't know…"
"But now you do," Harry finished, continuing to hold her tightly. He pulled back for a moment and looked at Hermione for a moment, his green gaze filled with intensity.
"And I hate to think how I would react if something like that happened again, only this time you wouldn't be as lucky."
He let go and turned away from her, as the twilight settled around them.
"How would you react?" Hermione whispered behind him.
Harry turned around and asked angrily, "How do you think I'd react? Hermione, if I panicked and freaked out two years ago at the possibility of your death, how do you think it would be if I lost you now, for real?"
"What's changed over two years, Harry?"
"We have. Or at least I have," Harry replied, running a hand through his messy hair. Back then, you were one of my best friends. But now you're…"
"I'm what?"
"I don't know, I just know that you are more than just my best friend. You're my partner, you're my guide, you're….my Hermione."
"I'm your Hermione?" she repeated, her heart pounding.
Harry nodded. "Yes, I'm not sure quite how it happened, but you are my Hermione."
Hermione smiled through her tears. "And you are my Harry."
Harry crossed the distance between them and before she knew it, he was kissing her. His lips were soft and sweet but she sensed a hunger and passion as well. Hermione poured herself into their kiss; her whole body was humming with an energy she had never felt, let alone knew existed. All too soon, the kiss ended with both panting a bit, breathing in the night air.
Harry leaned his forehead against Hermione's. "That was incredible."
Hermione nodded. "It was, wasn't it?"
"Let's give it another go," Harry said playfully.
"Yes, we should, but I want to show you something first," Hermione said, her tone serious as she took Harry's hand and pulled him toward the terrace door.
Once inside the house, Hermione opened the door to her bedroom and led Harry inside. She tapped her wand against the wall, muttered "lumos'' and the lanterns in her room illuminated.
"Harry, please sit in that chair and wait for me, I'll be right back."
He nodded at her with a look that combined desire and curiosity.
Hermione went into the bathroom that was connected to her bedroom and closed the door. She looked into the mirror with resolve. She had to do this, to show him. Hermione unzipped her lightweight hooded sweater and removed it. She was dressed in a thin white camisole and her jeans. Her top was cut low enough that her scar was visible.
She took a deep breath and went back into the bedroom, finding Harry sitting where she left him with an expectant look on his face. He broke into a seductive smile, when he saw Hermione in her semi-undressed state.
He stood up as she approached him and before Hermione could say anything, he was kissing her again, this time with more passion. As he left her lips to nibble on her right earlobe, Hermione mustered her self-control and found her voice.
"Harry, please stop."
Harry let go of her earlobe and looked puzzled. "What's wrong?"
"Harry, I think you misunderstood me. I didn't bring you in here for a snogging session."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Right, you said you wanted to show me something. I assumed it was you in that sexy top."
"Well, kind of," Hermione blushed in wonderment that Harry was using the word "sexy" and "you" in the same sentence.
"I wanted to show you my scar."
"What scar?" Harry asked. He looked down at where Hermione's hand was on her chest as the realization seemed to dawn on his face. He peered closer to see the pale pink line going straight across her tanned skin.
"Oh Hermione…." he seemed at a loss for words and sat back in the chair again. "Dolohov's curse…I didn't know, I had no idea you had a scar. You never told me."
"I know, we never really talked about what happened that day, not until now. I guess I didn't think it was important."
"Not important? Hermione you have a visual reminder that you nearly died on your body, just like I do. The only difference is - is that mine is visible and people gawk at it. You're able to hide yours from the world."
"Yes, but I can't hide it from you. Not anymore. Harry, if I'm your Hermione now, I want you to see what you are getting…someone who isn't perfect…someone who is disfigured."
"Disfigured? Hermione I would hardly call that disfigured. Your scar shows me that you are a very brave witch who followed her foolish best friend into danger and took a hit for him. It doesn't turn me off, if anything it makes you more beautiful."
Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "You really think I'm beautiful?"
Harry stood up and cradled her face in his hands, trying to dry her tears. "Yes, I think you're beautiful, Hermione."
He kissed her again and Hermione did indeed feel beautiful. He then dipped his head lower and traced the outline of her scar with his fingertips and then repeated the action gently with his lips.
When Harry finished his careful administration to her scar he looked up at her and what Hermione saw in his eyes nearly took her breath away. She knew without a doubt that he loved her.
"I love you so much, my Harry," she breathed, tearfully as she returned the favor to his scar, first brushing it with her fingertips and then placing a kiss on his forehead.
"I love you, too. My brave, brilliant Hermione," he whispered. "Scar and all."
Fin
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