a/n Just an interlude chapter for now to move the relationship issue along a bit - I hope no one minds too much…
I will be going on holiday for a few days so there may be a slightly longer wait for the next chapter - I hope this serves to keep you all going for the moment.
A huge thank you once again to everyone who has taken the trouble to review. I do try to respond to them all but sometimes life gets in the way. Please be assured that all comments are greatly appreciated.
BF
Close Encounters
Harry and Hermione sat side by side next to a large wooden desk in an office on the top floor of Gringotts and awaited the arrival of the various ledgers and files that Ragnok had requested from an assistant at the end of their interview. They had been escorted to the room and told that they would be provided with anything they required. The aide had informed them that Ragnok had specifically ordered that full co-operation was expected from every Gringotts employee and that neither Harry nor Hermione were to hesitate in making requests for aid. It was something of a shock to receive such co-operation from the goblins on such a sensitive issue but neither was inclined to complain about this sudden stroke of good fortune.
To say that Harry was surprised by the turn of events was an understatement. He'd not realised that his direct approach to the head Goblin would pay such a fruitful dividend but he'd been frustrated by Ragnok's attitude and had felt the need to speak out at what he thought was deliberate intransigence. He smiled ruefully to himself; had he known he was being subjected to some kind of test then he might have acted differently. Perhaps it was just as well that he had been kept in the dark.
He was aware that Hermione had been quiet since leaving Ragnok's office and he'd an inkling as to the cause of this. He sighed, hoping that she wasn't put out too much by what had occurred.
'Hermione?' he asked quietly. 'What's wrong?'
He noticed her sigh before answering. 'Do you know how long I have been struggling to form a working relationship with Ragnok, Harry?'
'Yes; you have been dealing with him for a few years now. It's quite clear that he has a very high regard for you. Why?'
'Because you achieved more in two minutes with him that I have in two years, that's why! I am supposed to be the head of the DMC and it turns out that I have been taking the wrong approach all this time.' She smiled a twisted, bitter grimace. 'I thought Ragnok was going to chuck us both out onto the street. How did you know what to say?'
'I didn't. I just said what I think.' He noticed that she did not take too well to this explanation; that she still looked unhappy. He leaned across and took her left hand in both of his, enfolding it as it rested on her lap. 'Look, Hermione; you couldn't speak to him like I just did, you don't have that luxury. You are the head of the Ministry department that deals with magical creatures. When you speak to Ragnok you speak as the Ministry - you are the Ministry in effect. If you cock things up; if you insult or offend the Goblins, then we could have a war on our hands. I don't have to consider any of that shit. I'm just a punter; a customer - I'm nobody. I can say what I want to them because I have no official Ministry capacity. Don't beat yourself up about this; it's obvious how much Ragnok likes you. Human-Goblin relations are better than they have been for years and that is solely down to you.' He smiled and waited for her to look him in the eye. 'If I was in your job, we would be facing a civil war right now. Don't put yourself down, Hermione; you have done too much good to let this upset you.'
He hoped that his words were having the desired effect and he was pleased to see that his explanation seemed to mollify her somewhat. They remained staring at each other for a moment before Hermione looked down to her lap where their joined hands lay. He glanced down too and suddenly became aware that he was gently stroking her palm with his thumb; that he had been tracing little circles and patterns on it throughout the conversation. He flushed at the realisation and made to pull his hands away but was surprised when Hermione - without looking up - grabbed his thumb tightly and refused to let go. He felt a sudden heat rush through him, but composed himself. Unsure of where this might lead them, he started to gently stroke her palm again with his thumb. She looked up and met his eyes, a shy expression on her face.
'Thank you,' she whispered and her face broke into a smile; a soft, gentle smile that took his breath away and seemed to radiate throughout the room.
Thank you? For what? For my words or for my actions? He didn't know; didn't have a clue. All he did know was that Hermione was looking at him in a way that he had never noticed before; that her skin felt like silk under his thumb and that when he looked on her he realised with certainty that she was quite simply the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. Not beautiful in the classic sense; no, that was not it. Hermione was certainly pretty but she was no pin-up; no glamour model. Artists and sculptors would never queue up to immortalise her with their art. But this didn't matter. What makes her so beautiful is the way she is looking at me; the way she is smiling at me right now. This particular smile was reserved especially for him - no one else - and the realisation of this truth made him feel ten times the man he actually was. When a woman - any woman - smiled at a man the way Hermione was smiling at him then true beauty became more than just a matter of mere aesthetics. He briefly considered the fiery beauty of Ginny; the classical beauty that Cho had possessed and finally came to understand why neither had been enough for him. Neither had looked at him the way Hermione was right now and neither had made him feel like he was the most important person alive.
All this passed through his mind in just a few seconds and he became aware that he was also smiling - he couldn't help it. When she looked at him like that he felt like he could do anything; that nothing was impossible. He cleared his throat, hoping that his voice would not betray just how much her smile had affected him.
'You're welcome,' he finally replied, softly. They sat gazing into each other's eyes for what seemed like an interminable length of time; static - almost as if they had been carved from marble. Harry began to feel the sweat on his palms; became aware of the thumping of his heart and was sure that Hermione could hear it too such was the pounding. He licked his lips, leaning slowly in towards her as he did so, seeking confirmation of what he thought that look and smile meant. She tilted her head expectantly as they drew closer together…
BANG!
'Here you go Mr Potter,' said a voice as the office door was swung open with such a force that it hit the wall. A small goblin entered with a trolley laden with ledgers and files. Harry and Hermione broke apart almost as if they were magnetically repelling each other such was the speed of their movement. Harry stood quickly, aware that his heart was still pounding and that he was struggling for breath. He wiped his palms on the sides of his trousers.
'Thank you,' he managed to croak. He shook his head, almost as if trying to awaken himself from a dream. 'I'll take them from here,' he added, pleased that his voice was returning to normal.
The goblin nodded and turned before leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Harry closed his eyes for a second and tried to regain his composure before beginning to move the ledgers from the trolley to the large desk. He kept his back to Hermione as he did so. When he finally finished and turned to face her he was surprised to see that she was regarding him with what could only be described as a knowing smile. He decided to ignore this for the moment; now wasn't the time to deal with this.
'Ready to start?' he asked as casually as he could. The words sounded normal but all that was going through his head at that moment was one recurring thought.
I nearly kissed her! I nearly kissed her! I can't do this right now; I have to tell her first!
'I sure am,' replied Hermione and Harry found himself faintly annoyed to realise that she sounded perfectly composed. 'Are you going to stay here too?' she asked.
He took a moment to consider the question. He hadn't expected to be allowed access to the accounts and had already made other plans. But he didn't want it to look as if he was running away from what had just occurred either.
Damn!
'I was going to go and scout out Willie Widdershins,' he finally replied. 'Do you mind? I feel quite bad leaving you with all of this but I will need to get an idea of his routine if I am going to approach him unnoticed.'
Hermione regarded him for a moment and he got the distinct impression that she knew exactly what he was thinking.
'That's fine,' she replied. 'We need to spread ourselves for the moment. We need to check all of this stuff but we have to speak to Willie too. Don't worry about it; we have our mirrors if we need to contact each other. You go to the Hog's Head and I'll make a start on this. OK? Just promise me that you will be careful; don't go barging in and doing anything foolish.'
'OK,' he replied, a little unsure. 'I promise. I'm just going to observe for now, nothing more. Just get in touch if you need me for anything. Do you know what you are looking for?'
She shook her head. 'Not really; I thought I was just looking for anything that seems irregular.'
'It might not be obvious. Just keep an eye out for names you recognise - see if anyone has more cash than they ought to or look out for strange money transfers. It could be anything.'
Hermione nodded her understanding then sat and stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to act. He stood still, suddenly unwilling to depart. He noticed Hermione observe his indecision with amusement. 'Right then; I'll be off. See you later,' he added before finally turning to leave. His feet felt like lead as he headed towards the door and he cast one last glance back at Hermione as he swung it open. Giving her a final nod and smile, he finally forced himself to walk out of the room.
When the door closed behind him, he did not see Hermione slump into her chair; a smile on her face as she folded her arms across her shoulders; hugging herself as she considered what had just happened.
Harry nearly kissed me!
But more to the point, she realised; I nearly kissed him too.
***********
Harry's mind was racing as he approached the apartment block where he had once resided. He was still trying to process what had just happened in Gringotts and he had an internal dialogue going on, almost as if there were two Harry Potters in his head, each battling for dominance.
You nearly kissed her! What are you playing at?
But you saw how she was looking at me! She wanted me to kiss her! How could I resist her when she was looking at me like that?
You can't do anything right now. Remember, you still have to tell her the truth.
Why?
Because you can't start anything with her with a lie. You know that. This is Hermione we are talking about here. You can't lie to her. You could never lie to her.
I've been lying to her for over five years.
No, you haven't. You just…didn't make her aware of all the facts. You will have to now, though.
But she'll flip if I tell her.
She deserves to know. And how much worse will it be if she finds out later, hmm?
Much worse. Much, much worse. I can't lie to her. I have to tell her.
He shook his head, wondering dispassionately if he was quietly going round the twist. This was too much to deal with right now; he had enough on his plate without trying to finally lay this particular ghost to rest as well.
He glanced up as he finally reached the front door of the apartment block and noticed that his name had been removed from the list of nameplates on the wall. Where once it had said "Potter/Weasley," it now read only "Weasley." He felt a sudden rush of sadness overwhelm him as he realised just how many people he had hurt with his dishonesty. Whatever the reason; however noble the excuse, he had damaged more than just his own life when he had lied to Ron that fateful day.
Ah, well; let's get this over with.
He made his way up the stairs until he finally arrived at the front door of the flat that he had once shared with Ginny. He knocked loudly a few times but it seemed that no one was home. He removed his wand from his pocket and was pleasantly surprised to discover that he was still keyed into the wards as the door swung gently open.
'Ginny?' he called, hesitating on the threshold. There was no answer and it was with some relief that he made his way into the flat. He noticed immediately there had been a few changes since he had last been here; the living room had a slightly more feminine air about it and it was quite obvious that this was now the home of a single woman. He shook his head as he made his way towards the master bedroom where he knew his stuff was once stored.
When he entered his eyes were instantly drawn to the large double bed that dominated the room - the bed that he and Ginny had once shared; the bed where they had made love.
Made love? No; that wasn't right, was it? Had sex would be more accurate. Another person I lied to.
He turned away from the bed almost as if feeling accusations emanating from it. Sighing, he opened his wardrobe and was pleased to see that his stuff still remained within. He spotted a large holdall at the bottom and without hesitation he chucked it onto the bed and began cramming it full of clothes. After a few minutes, he came across his Firebolt and grabbed that too before he finally discovered his invisibility cloak - the reason that he had come here in the first place.
Finally finished with the packing, he took one last glance around the room and found his eyes drawn to the photographs that were placed on the bedside table. He reached across and lifted one, smiling despite the sadness he felt. It was a photo of him, Ron and Hermione, taken a few months after the defeat of Voldemort. He and Ron had just been accepted into the Auror training program and they had gone out to celebrate. He looked on the happy faces, so full of hope and joy and it occurred to him that these people were strangers now. He and Hermione had changed since the day this picture was taken. And Ron?
Ron was no more. Only a memory.
'Hello? Is someone there?'
Harry started in surprise at the voice and nearly dropped the photograph. Shit; Ginny. He quickly replaced the picture on the table.
'In here!' he called. 'It's me; Harry!' He tried to compose himself as he heard her footsteps approach. He turned as she entered the room and her eyes took in the situation immediately as they registered the packed holdall on the bed.
'Oh,' she said.
'Hi, Ginny,' he began. 'I'm sorry to barge in like this, but I needed to pick up a few things.' He forced a smile. 'I've really only got the clothes I'm standing up in and if I don't get a change soon I'm going to have to start walking around in the buff.'
Despite the awkwardness, Ginny smiled in return. 'We can't have that, can we, Harry? Narcissa might not be able to contain herself if you go walking around Malfoy Manor in your birthday suit.' Her humour sounded forced, her tone betraying how she was feeling.
'I'm not staying at the Manor anymore,' he replied. Oh, fuck! Why did I say that?
'You're not? Why? Where are you staying now?'
He took a few seconds before replying. 'I'm moving in with Hermione for the moment.'
Ginny's eyes widened and the smile she had on her face became fixed. 'Hermione?' Her eyes narrowed. 'Is there something I should know about, Harry?'
'It's not what you think,' he replied hastily. 'I don't have anywhere else to go at the minute. I wasn't comfortable at the Manor and I didn't think I could stay here given…what's just happened. Hermione suggested I move in with her for now as she has a spare room. There's nothing going on.'
The little voice in his head decided that this was a good moment to chime in. Yet. There's nothing going on yet. Another lie, Harry?
Shut up.
Ginny did not look convinced by the explanation. 'Hermione said nothing about this to me,' she said and her tone suggested that things would be said.
He shrugged. 'We just arranged it earlier today. It makes sense when you think about it. We are working on this case together and it will mean we can devote more time to it. Once it's all over, I suppose I will find somewhere else.'
'You suppose?' Her eyes narrowed even further. 'Is there something you're not telling me, Harry? Is there something going on between the two of you? Is this why you dumped me?'
Harry closed his eyes, hating the bitterness in her tone. 'Look, Ginny. I'm sorry if this upsets you but please believe me when I tell you that there has been nothing going on between Hermione and me. We both value your friendship too much to have ever done anything behind your back. Or Ron's,' he added. He looked her straight in the eye. 'I was never unfaithful to you and Hermione was never unfaithful to Ron. I don't want to risk your friendship over this and I'm sure Hermione feels the same. I didn't think it would upset you this much but I guess I'm not the best person to judge when it comes to things like this.'
He knew that he was on very thin ice here; that he was being more than just a little economical with the truth, but he hadn't lied to her. He knew he loved Hermione but there was no way on God's green earth that he was going to admit this to Ginny before he'd had the chance to tell Hermione.
He was relieved to see that his words seemed to have the desired effect for Ginny seemed to deflate before his eyes.
'I'm sorry, Harry. Sorry for thinking that you would cheat on me. And Ron. I'm sorry for thinking that about Hermione too.' She shook her head. 'What you and Hermione do is none of my business; at least, it is only my business if you choose to make it so as my friends.' She smiled, trying to force levity into the conversation. 'I suppose you are both single adults; you can do what you want. I'm just still trying to deal with things. Can you forgive me?'
'Of course I can,' he replied, feeling awful as he drew her into a tight embrace. They remained like that for a few moments until Harry finally released her. After standing facing each other, Harry finally turned and lifted the bag from the bed.
'I'm sorry, Ginny, but I really need to go.' He saw her nod at his words before looking away. Sighing, he turned and headed out of the room and made his way to the front door, reaching for the handle and opening the door.
'Harry?
He turned to face her, a questioning look on his face.
'I just want you to be happy, Harry. I want you to know that I will still remain your friend whatever you decide you need to achieve this.' She sounded as if it had taken her a great effort to say these words.
Harry felt like she was reading his very soul at that moment and felt ashamed. But he also felt gratitude; gratitude for the magnanimity that Ginny was displaying.
She knows, he thought to himself. She knows exactly what I need to be happy.
'Thanks, Ginny,' he replied softly, before turning and walking out of the flat.
Forever.
***********
Hermione tried her best to concentrate on the ledgers that she had spread across the desk but found herself unable to focus. The columns and rows of numbers seemed to swim in front of her eyes as her mind churned over the events of the afternoon.
Harry nearly kissed me!
There was no doubt in her mind that had the messenger from Ragnok not interrupted when he did then she and Harry would have kissed. When he had explained to her why he was able to speak to Ragnok in the manner he had it had taken all of her willpower to concentrate on what he was saying as she did her best not to shiver at his touch. There was nothing overtly sexual in what he had been doing; rather, the soft, gentle patterns he'd been making on her palm as he held her hand seemed to offer reassurance and love but she'd nonetheless felt a thrill of pleasure at this simplest of touches. Her skin had tingled and she'd felt a stirring from deep within as he had gently stroked her palm. It was incredible that his slightest touch could affect her to such an extent.
So when he'd made to let go of her hand something had compelled her to grip him tight to make sure he did not stop. She still didn't know why she'd done that but she was glad she did. When they had gazed at one another - had leaned in towards one another - she had not been aware of anything but Harry. His look; his scent - his sheer presence had blocked out every sense and every thought. A tiny part of her mind had told her that this was a bad idea but for once she'd decided to ignore her reason and allow her instinct to take over. They had been so close to going past the point of no return…
It opened a can of worms however. She'd felt herself more drawn to him with each passing day and could sense that he was going through the same process. Looking at it rationally, she reasoned that it was because they were both lonely; that they had both been deprived of physical pleasure for so long that it might be a case of "any port in a storm." But she also knew that neither of them would be likely to risk their deep and lasting friendship over something as shallow as momentary sexual gratification. At least; she knew this to be true of herself and she was certain that Harry would think the same. She knew him better than he knew himself and reckoned that she was correct in her assertion. She also knew that it had taken every ounce of her willpower to speak to him in what she hoped had passed for a normal voice. He had really affected her and she'd not wanted him to know just how much.
So what was going on then? Was he looking for something more? Did he feel something more?
Do I?
They had both changed, of that there was no doubt. They were no longer the teenagers forced to grow up before their time. No longer the callow youths; inexperienced in love and sex. It had only been five years since the defeat of Voldemort but those years had wrought changes both physical and emotional that could not now be reversed. The simple fact was that she was attracted to Harry and she suspected that it was more than merely a physical attraction. That Harry was now moving in with her was only going to complicate the situation, she knew. How long would they be able to keep up the pretence when they were living in each others pockets?
She leaned back in her chair and let out a sigh as she considered the real issue at stake.
Do I love him?
On face value, the fact that she even had to ask herself that question did not inspire the confidence that she did. But then, nothing was ever simple when it came to Harry. Her mind was repeatedly telling her of the pitfalls that lay ahead.
We're friends; can we risk that? And what about Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys? How will they react?
What would Ron say?
This last question troubled her more than any other and she suspected that this was what Harry had been alluding to back in the Weasley orchard. Ron was gone, but his memory was almost like a physical presence in the room. What would he say?
But if she disregarded these considerations; if she ignored the practical issues and considered the question of love in isolation, she came up with a simple answer.
Of course I love him. I can't imagine life without him. He's not just the most important thing; he is everything. When he left it was like having a part of me cut out. When he's not with me I need to see him; when he is with me, I want to touch him. I'd follow him wherever he asked me to go; give up anything just to be with him.
If that's not love then I don't know what is.
What really troubled her more than anything though was the realisation that she had never felt quite this way about Ron. She'd loved Ron - or at least, she'd thought she'd loved Ron - but she'd never felt the same sense of need for Ron that she now felt for Harry. She felt like she was betraying Ron; that despite being true to him physically, her heart had betrayed him by desiring another. The fact that it was Harry who was the one to be the catalyst for this made it worse. Ron had always felt second best to Harry and the idea that she loved their mutual friend would have destroyed him.
But Ron was second best, said the traitorous little voice in her head. Harry never rejected me; never insulted me to alleviate his own feelings of inadequacy. Harry has never tried to belittle me; never remained angry with me for long. He always supported everything I decided to do; he has always been willing to listen to what I have to say. He values my advice; he has always - right from the start - appreciated me for being me. He's never tried to change me; always accepted and loved me for who and what I am.
He loves me unconditionally.
And that was what love was supposed to be, wasn't it? She couldn't say the same about Ron; couldn't pretend to herself that Ron had been anything like the man Harry was. This, she knew, was the ultimate betrayal of Ron's memory; comparing the two men and realising that Ron came up so short in relation to Harry. It was the ultimate betrayal because it confirmed everything that Ron had feared all those years.
I made a mistake five years ago. I settled; for the first time in my life I accepted second best because I was too afraid to go for what I wanted. I never believed that I deserved any better.
That I deserved Harry.
Tears started to flow down her cheeks as she finally came to accept this truth. Tears for what had passed; tears for what might have been.
And not least, tears for Ron's memory; for having lived a lie with him for five years and for not loving him the way he had evidently loved her.
Even in death, he was still in Harry's shadow.
Oh, Ron. I'm so sorry.