Ships in the night
Jane Granger sat on one end of the sofa and held her daughter's hand as she listened to Hermione finally finish explaining what was upsetting her so much. It had been a long tale in the telling and had made for a long night. Now as silence finally descended, she realised that Hermione was waiting expectantly for the advice she hoped would alleviate her distress. The problem was Jane had no idea what to say to her at the moment.
She'd initially been delighted to see Hermione when first opening the front door but it immediately became clear that it was not an unexpected social call; rather her only child had required a shoulder to cry on and some good, solid, motherly advice. It had taken a few minutes to get Hermione to calm down enough to talk about what was distressing her but she had managed to do so with the aid of a strong cup of tea and she knew now that it had been worth the effort. Now as she considered everything she had been told, she came to realise that her daughter had kept so much of her life hidden away from herself and her husband. She felt like weeping too, but that was not what Hermione needed right now. Hermione needed her to be strong; needed her to be the shoulder to cry on; the rock that she could cling to in a world that had suddenly threatened to overwhelm her and sweep her away. Jane would save her own tears for later.
Jane Granger had always been proud of her daughter. Proud of her achievements; of her intelligence and of the warm, loving young woman she had matured into over the years. She was aware that Hermione was considered a heroine in the magical world owing to her role in the defeat of Voldemort but she'd never fully been aware of just exactly what that role had been.
Until now.
Jane sighed as she considered what her daughter had just divulged. Hermione had spoken haltingly at first but had soon warmed up and had narrated everything that she and her two friends had been through since she first entered the magical world. She had spoken for several hours and Jane had hardly said a word; content only to speak when seeking clarification on some point or other, or to offer reassurance when Hermione faltered. It was with a growing sense of disbelief that she had listened to everything her daughter had endured. She'd had to suppress her horror as Hermione - her little girl - had spoken of death and destruction; of murder and intrigue and eventually of the desperate, final battle that had finally rid the world of Voldemort once and for all.
She now viewed Hermione in an entirely new light. She now understood what had driven her daughter to wipe the memories of herself and her husband and as a result of this new understanding she felt petty and sorrowful for not having fully forgiven Hermione for doing such a thing. Relations between the three of them had been strained since their return from Australia but now she had heard the details of what Hermione had endured, she felt a surge of remorse for ever questioning her daughter's motives.
She'd had no choice. She was only trying to protect us.
As she'd listened patiently to the tale, she'd had a premonition of where it was going and so it had come as no surprise to finally discover what lay at the heart of the matter.
Harry Potter.
She closed her eyes for a few moments and considered what had transpired between Hermione and Harry earlier. She'd always known that Harry was different; that he was famous in the magical world and that great things had always been expected of him. But tonight was the first time she had heard the whole story and despite the obvious love and concern she had for her daughter, she found herself returning to one dominant thought; that poor, poor boy.
It defied belief what he had been through. She couldn't claim to know him well but she had always liked what she did know. He was quiet and unassuming; modest and courteous and she had always detected hidden depths to him which she now fully understood. It obviously took a long plumb line to fathom Harry Potter and it was with a sense of pride that she realised that Hermione was probably the only person who had ever managed to get behind the mask and find the real Harry that lay underneath. To manage this whilst being involved with another man was no mean achievement and it occurred to her that this was what lay at the heart of the matter. This was what was causing the distress.
Hermione, Ron and Harry, she mused. A trio that had overcome so much adversity and in doing so had forged bonds that could not possibly be understood by any not of their group. And she knew exactly where that could lead; precisely the problems that such a dynamic could cause. She cast her mind back to the not so distant past.
When Hermione had first brought Ron home and introduced him as her boyfriend to herself and Dan, she'd been very surprised. After years of receiving letters that spoke about little but Harry; of listening to Hermione during the summer holidays talk about her raven haired friend, it had come as a shock to discover that Ron Weasley was the man she'd elected to spend her life with. It wasn't that she or Dan had had anything against Ron - on the contrary. Ron had been a good man; had clearly loved Hermione and it was obvious that he always tried his best to make her happy - everything, in fact, that parents wanted from the man dating their daughter. But on the few occasions Harry had also been present, she'd noticed that he made Hermione happy without even having to try. Harry did it just by being there. There was definitely something between them and had it not been for the fact that Hermione was with Ron, she would have sworn blind that there was an attraction between Hermione and Harry.
And I was right, wasn't I?
Hermione's final revelation of the night had not surprised her at all; indeed the only surprise was that it had taken so long for the matter to come to a head. When Ron died, Hermione had been understandably distraught but when Harry had left she had noticed her daughter really withdraw into herself. It had been an extremely trying period.
And now Harry was back and with his return came the re-opening of old wounds. Jane understood her daughter's feelings of anger and guilt but she was also aware of an acute sadness for the young man who had lied. She understood - perhaps even better than Hermione - why Harry had told the lie. He thought he was going to die and when she considered this; when she pondered on the fact that a seventeen year old boy could shoulder the burden of an entire society and in doing so quite dispassionately contemplate his own death, she felt moved to tears. Harry had been willing to die for all of them and she could not even begin to imagine how he must have felt when walking to face Voldemort.
Walking to his death.
She opened her eyes as Hermione suddenly began to speak again.
'Do you understand why I am having trouble dealing with this, mum? He told the lie to Ron that night but indirectly he lied to me too - and Ginny. If I had known about how he felt then I would have acted differently. I settled; I accepted Ron and in doing so I lied as well. Riddle was correct; when it came to true friendship and love, Ron was second when compared to Harry. He always was.'
It was clear that Hermione expected her to have the answer; expected her to think of a solution to what seemed an insurmountable problem. But when she considered everything that she had been told, Jane Granger knew that there was only one approach to take; that only one thing she had been told by her daughter really mattered.
'Hermione? Are you in love with Harry?'
She saw the surprise on her daughter's face at the question, but saw too that she was considering her answer. After a short pause she finally nodded her assent before looking away.
'And he loves you, dear. He loves you in quite an extraordinary way. What happened five years ago doesn't matter anymore. Yes, you're right; he shouldn't have lied, but he did what he thought was for the best.' She paused before continuing, thinking best how to proceed. 'You shouldn't be surprised that he did what he did.' She waited until Hermione looked up sharply at these words. 'Was Harry prepared to die for his friends, do you think?' she asked her daughter, already knowing the answer.
Hermione nodded. 'He didn't know Voldemort's curse wouldn't work. He had no idea he was still protected. He…he walked into that forest expecting to die.'
'Think about that, Hermione. Harry was prepared to sacrifice his life for his friends. Why be astonished that he also sacrificed his heart?' She saw her daughter gasp at this observation but ploughed on. 'It's quite obvious that he loved Ron - I can't think of a nobler deed a man could do for his friend.'
'But I am his friend too! Where was the consideration for me?'
Jane sighed. 'Hermione? I want you to be totally honest with yourself because this is very important. Did you ever give Harry any sign that you had feelings for him? That his love might be returned?'
Hermione took her time before answering and when she finally spoke, her anguish was manifest.
'No! I never thought he loved me in that way. I was too afraid to take the chance. I thought he loved Ginny.'
'And he thought you loved Ron. You can hardly blame him for doing what he did, can you? He thought you loved Ron and he knew Ron loved you. He obviously thought that revealing his true feelings would shatter the friendship the three of you shared. It would have, wouldn't it?'
Hermione looked at her feet and nodded and Jane's heart almost broke at the sight of her only child in such pain. 'Yes; Ron would never have forgiven us,' Hermione finally replied in a small voice.
'And yet you are angry at Harry for not revealing how he felt even though he was certain that his love would not be reciprocated. You expected him to destroy what the three of you had for the sake of unrequited love?'
'But I wouldn't have rejected him!'
'He didn't know that, Hermione. What else could he have done?'
She watched as her daughter considered the question and it was obvious that this was something that she really hadn't thought through. This gave Jane a fuller insight into just how rattled her daughter was by what had occurred - it was most unlike Hermione not to see what was important. She decided to press on; to finally make Hermione see what really mattered.
'He loves you, Hermione. He has for over five years. And you love him. Does anything else matter? Are you really going to risk that for a mistake made five years ago? How far are you willing to let the past affect your future, dear?'
This clinched it, she knew. She watched the expression on Hermione's face change at these words. Watched as her daughter finally accepted the truth of her heart and finally came to terms with what had occurred. Hermione sat up suddenly, her face full of alarm.
'Oh, God! What have I done? Harry! Poor Harry! I need to go to him, mum. I need to see him!' she exclaimed as she got to her feet.
Jane smiled, relieved that her daughter had finally got there. 'Yes, dear; you do. But I think we should get you straightened out first. Don't take this the wrong way but you look terrible. It's probably best if we get you looking human again before seeing him. Don't you agree? Besides,' she added, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece, 'it's the middle of the night. Sensible people are asleep right now.'
Hermione took a moment to consider these words and when she did - to Jane Granger's delight - she smiled.
'Harry has never been sensible his entire life,' she said with amusement. 'But you're right, mum. Thanks,' she added, before reaching over and giving her mum a hug that tried to convey her gratitude.
***********
Harry stood in Kingsley's office and phased out what was being said as the Minister outlined to his audience what was going on. It was crowded; there were a dozen Aurors present all of whom had been called in at short notice to carry out the raid. Harry had been adamant that such security was necessary; he had insisted that no one be allowed to go off alone once everyone had been informed of the mission. He was not willing to risk the chance of someone slipping off and warning the Deatheaters.
But he knew what the mission was and so was able to ignore Kingsley as he outlined the plan. Instead, his thoughts turned to the events of the previous evening and for the thousandth time he cursed himself for his handling of the whole situation.
He'd lingered for a long time by the side of the lake - lingered until the first signs of sunrise could be discerned just below the eastern horizon. He'd felt as if he was looking upon the scene of his greatest folly which - considering all the cock-ups he'd made in his life - was quite an achievement. He'd been distraught when Hermione had left. He had not known what her reaction would be but he had to confess that the possibility of her leaving had not crossed his mind when beforehand he had tried to imagine all the possible scenarios of finally coming clean. He'd been angry at first; angry that she could walk away from him after he had just revealed the innermost feelings of his heart. He had sat down by the lake and wondered how she could have done such a thing to him.
Thankfully, this line of thought had not lasted long. After a few moments he had realised how selfish he was being. It wasn't about him; it was about Hermione and he'd realised with certainty that her reaction was perfectly natural. He had ambushed her; had hit her with a momentous revelation that called into question their entire relationship.
No wonder she needs the time. I would too if the roles had been revered.
After coming to this realisation he had calmed down somewhat and his anger was replaced with a feeling of dread that had not yet gone away.
What if she can't forgive me? What if she never wants to see me again? No matter what she decides, we can never go back to the way things were.
And this was the cause of the dread, he knew. His revelation had changed their dynamic - their friendship was changed forever, whatever she decided. If she could not love him the way he wanted her to then they could never return to the close friendship they had enjoyed up until now. He had let the cat out of the bag; he couldn't unsay anything and what he'd admitted would always be between them. She knew he loved her and that was not something that anyone could be expected to ignore.
And if she gives me the answer I want? Then their friendship would change to something else; something he wanted - no needed - above all else.
He closed his eyes as he recalled their embrace in her flat. He had never experienced anything like it. Although he had lived like a monk this past year, he was no strange to the physical side of a relationship. But nothing had prepared him for the sheer…intensity of what he had felt with Hermione. He'd been taken aback when she had leant forward and planted her lips on his but his instincts had taken over and he had moved immediately to return her overture. He'd lost himself in her embrace; it had almost been primal such was the manner in which his reason had suddenly flown. He had never - not ever - felt such a need and the sensation of losing all control still astonished him. They had only kissed; had remained fully clothed and yet he had felt a desire and an arousal that he'd never known possible.
When she had reached for him it had taken all of his will power to break away from her. It was not that he did not want to continue - on the contrary, he wanted nothing more - rather it was because he knew that if they had gone even a little further then he would have ended up giving himself completely to her.
He had not wanted to do that before telling her the truth but even now a small part of him wished he had ignored his conscience for once. I might never get another chance, he realised. Their embrace had been an indicator - the merest sip - of the possibilities that lay before them if Hermione could forgive him and love him. He wondered if he would be able to live with the knowledge if she cast him aside; if that one brief taste would torment him for the rest of his days if she denied him.
He'd hoped that she would have returned before he felt the need to depart for the Ministry but as the sun had finally begun to poke its way into the sky there had been no sign of her.
'Harry?'
He snapped out of his thoughts at being addressed directly. He glanced up at Kingsley, a hint of apology in his eyes.
'I said are you ready to go, Harry? The briefing is over; we are all set,' said Kingsley.
Harry could detect some hostile stares from some of the others present and it occurred to him that this was not the time or place to let his personal life get in the way. What they were about to do was dangerous and he did not want anyone thinking he was unreliable - or unprepared.
He nodded. 'I'm ready, boss. You just say the word.'
Kingsley held his gaze for a moment before nodding. 'OK; let's go,' he finally replied.
*************
Five minutes later the group could be found in the doorway of an old warehouse that was adjacent to the one to be raided. All were concealed and Harry was grateful to see that all were accounted for too. No one had attempted to slip away and he was as certain as he could be that the targets were completely unaware of what was about to happen.
He watched as Tom and Kingsley cast their wands in seemingly random patterns as they muttered under their breaths. It looked absurd but he knew what they were doing was vital. Both men were locating and removing a variety of wards, traps and detection charms and doing it in such a way that those inside would have no clue what was going on. He suppressed his admiration, knowing that both men were experts at this sort of thing and he had complete trust in their abilities. To pass the time while he waited, he glanced around the corner and eyed the old brick building in order to locate any potential problems. It was much like the one that Ron had met his end in; it looked run down and the ground before it was littered with debris from a bygone era. He noticed that there were some old containers dotted around that would provide some cover and on the side of the building he noticed an old water tank and what looked like some old gas canisters. They too could act as some cover, he realised. He turned his attention to Kingsley as the older man began to speak.
'Right; that's us clear to go. This will be my command post,' Kingsley whispered. 'You all have your assignments; make sure you keep all the exits covered. We have set up an anti-Apparition ward so the only way out is through one of these exits. Dawlish and I will be the back up in case any of you get into trouble. Just use your mirrors if you need to. Stay with your assigned partners if you can. I know that it is possible for you to get separated but do your best to back each other up. You have all done this kind of thing before; just remember what you have learned. Good luck everyone,' he added with a grim nod.
Harry felt a sudden surge of fear as he sought out his partner. No matter how many times he had done this sort of thing he still found that the last few moments before everything kicked off were always the worst.
I could die here today, he thought and with that realisation he was suddenly glad that he had told Hermione the truth. No matter what happens; at least she will know. A sudden thought occurred to him and he crept over towards Kingsley who regarded him with a questioning look.
'Kingsley? Can you do me a favour?' he asked as he withdrew his mirror from his pocket and cast a quick charm on it. 'Would you mind swapping mirrors with me? Hermione might want to get in touch and I don't want it going off in the middle of the raid. It's still hooked up to everyone else, but she has her own mirror that can access this one.'
Kingsley didn't reply. He simply withdrew his own mirror and wordlessly made the exchange. Harry smiled his gratitude before making his way over to his partner for the mission.
He glanced up at Tom as he neared him, glad that Kingsley had assigned them together. They had partnered on a number of missions and he drew comfort from the familiarity the two of them shared.
'Ready, Potter?' Tom asked with a grin.
Despite his fear, Harry grinned back. 'Ready.'
************
Hermione quietly slid open the front door of her apartment and entered, taking care to tread softly in case Harry was asleep. The hands on her watch told her that it was still the middle of the night but at this time of the year dawn came early and as she had neared her home she had been aware of the first glimpse of sunlight as it began to creep over the horizon. She noticed Crookshanks raise his head from his position of slumber in front of the fire but for once her pet seemed content to remain where he was, safe in the knowledge that his mistress had returned.
To her surprise she noticed an envelope on the floor and it was with a feeling of dread that she leaned down and snatched it up. She flipped it over to see who it was addressed to and felt a wave of relief wash over her as she recognised straight away that the writing was not Harry's. It was addressed to Miss Hermione Granger and she elected to put it down on the table, deciding that it could wait; she had more important things to deal with right now.
She hadn't realised how late it was and the lack of sleep was beginning to catch up with her. She hadn't intended to speak for so long but once she'd begun talking to her mother she'd felt a dam burst within her and had suddenly been overcome with a desire to tell her mum everything. She was glad she had done this; as each part of her magical life was revealed she felt a sense of release and it was with some relief that she had finally managed to relate the tale. Her mum's obvious good sense had also helped her come to terms with what had happened. It was just like her to cut right to the heart of the matter.
'Hermione? Are you in love with Harry?'
Such a straightforward question and ultimately the only question that really mattered. Of course I am in love with him.
She now felt terrible for leaving him by the lake. He had just bared his soul; had just done the decent, honourable thing by revealing the truth to her. It was typical of him to want to be totally open and honest with her and she now knew that she wouldn't want it any other way. It was one of the things she loved about him; his obvious need to ensure there were no secrets between them. She only hoped that he did not view her departure as a betrayal; that he would understand her need for some time and space.
She'd been completely overwhelmed by the revelation. Whilst suspecting that Harry had strong feelings for her - even loved her - she'd had no idea that he'd harboured these feelings for so long. Her mum was right though; there was nothing to be gained by dragging the past into the present. Harry had his reasons for lying and now that she was able to view the issue with some objectivity, she knew that his reasons were sound - if misguided.
Harry was prepared to sacrifice his life for his friends. Why be astonished that he also sacrificed his heart?
She felt the tears well up again as she recalled he mother's words. Just when she thought he could no longer surprise her, she discovers something like this. When she thought of everything he had done in his short life she actually wondered how Harry remained sane. How did I ever claim him back after Ron died?
She approached the door to his room and slowly opened it expecting to see the sleeping form of her friend and - she hoped - her soon to be lover. To her discomfort she realised immediately that the bed was empty; that it was still made from the previous day and she knew instantly that Harry had not been home.
Shit. Where would he have gone?
Taking a moment to consider her options, she concentrated on a forest clearing and a few seconds later she found herself by the lake where so much had happened. She glanced around, hoping and praying to see his familiar form but it was apparent that he had left this spot too. She glanced to the eastern sky and saw that the sun was now fully up.
Damn it! She knew that he was going on the raid this morning but she had no idea what time they would be starting out. Something told her that it would be soon; that they would want to catch the Deatheaters unaware and that the raid would be done as close to first light as possible. Fighting a sudden feeling of panic that rose within her, she closed her eyes again and a few moments later found herself in the Atrium of the Ministry. Ignoring the curious stares of the few early risers present, she dashed immediately for the elevators and made her way straight to Kingsley's office. When she got there, she thrust the door open and was confronted with the rather startled expression on the face of Susan Bones.
'Hermione?' she asked in surprise.
'Have they gone yet?' she asked without preamble. 'Has Harry gone?'
'They left about ten minutes ago,' replied Susan, taken aback. 'Is something wrong?'
Hermione considered the question. Yes! Everything is wrong! I need to see Harry!
'No; nothing that can't wait,' she replied as casually as she could. 'Thanks, Susan; I'll see you later,' she added as she turned and left the office. She had only gone a few yards when she stopped and rested her back against the wall. She closed her eyes as she considered her options and fought a growing sense of unease.
Calm down! She thought to herself as she took a few deep breaths. Getting worked up now wouldn't help the situation, she knew, so she did her best to recover her composure as she decided what to do next. She knew where the raid was to take place; knew from her conversation with Harry that it was close to where Ron had died. Whilst she had never visited that particular spot she did know where it was.
Do I go there now? Will I get in the way? She decided against it. Her presence would not be wanted there by the majority of Aurors and it occurred to her that she might prove something of a distraction to Harry too. He needed to be fully focussed on the job at hand so no; going to the scene of the raid was not an option at the moment.
Then she remembered her mirror and cursed herself for not thinking of it sooner. She withdrew it from her pocket and regarded it thoughtfully. She glanced at her watch, knowing that she risked distracting Harry if she called him now. Would they have started yet? Susan said they left ten minutes ago. Would they have started so soon?
Deciding to chance it, she activated the mirror and waited for a reply. To her pleasant surprise, she realised that her call was being answered.
'Harry?' she asked breathlessly. 'Harry? Can you hear me?'
'Hi, Hermione,' came a familiar voice. But not Harry's voice. It was Kingsley. 'Harry said you might call. It's not a good time to talk I'm afraid; they have already gone in. They shouldn't be too much longer.'
'I'm sorry, Kingsley,' she replied, confused at having the Minister reply on Harry's mirror. 'Is he OK?' she asked tentatively.
Kingsley sensed her concern. 'He's fine; he just swapped mirrors with me - he said you might try to get in touch. He didn't want his going off at a bad time.'
Hermione hid her relief and was about to reply when she saw Kingsley look away sharply.
'Where did those flames come from?' she heard him ask sharply. 'Dawlish! Where did that fire come from, damn it?' She could hear the concern in Kingsley's voice but she couldn't hear the muffled reply from Dawlish. 'Well I don't care what you think,' she heard Kingsley say. 'Get them out. That fire is spreading fast! Pull them out right now!'
Hermione thought that her heart was going to explode such was the feeling of suffocation that she was experiencing. Flames? Spreading? Oh, God, Harry. Please tell me you're out of there. Please.
Time passed but she had no idea how long such was the intensity with which she focussed on the mirror. Finally, she heard further muffled shouts and then Kingsley's loud clear voice once again. 'Is everyone accounted for?' she heard him ask. Once more, she couldn't hear the full reply; once more she was frustrated by the limitations of her mirror. Then she heard a voice that she recognised as Tom Proudfoot's.
'Harry's still in there! Drop the Apparition wards!'
Hermione slumped to the ground, her back still pressed against the wall. This can't be happening. Not again. Please, God; not again.
'I don't give a fuck if they could escape!' Tom's voice again. 'That building is going to go! Drop the Apparition wards! Do it now!'
Hermione sat with the mirror on her knees and stared into the glass, tears starting to fall down her face. She opened her mouth to speak but before she had the chance to ask for more information a sudden, loud crash could be heard and the image on her mirror went completely black for a few moments. She lurched forward, pressing her ear to the glass to try and hear what was happening. She heard nothing for what seemed like an eternity before Kingsley's voice broke the silence.
'Did anyone see him?' she heard him say, and the anguish in his voice was matched only by her own feeling of dread. 'Did anyone see him?' Kingsley repeated, urgently.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Harry.
Harry.
It was at precisely that moment that another loud crash could be heard; one that shook the very building around her.
***********
a/n OK, so I left you with a bit of a cliffy, but surely I deserve some fun for my efforts? If you don't like it then feel free to vent your spleens if you decide to review…
I'll do my best to ensure you don't have to wait too long to find out what happened.
BF