Three quarters of an hour later, Harry and Hermione were slurping up noodles and sharing lighthearted reminiscings about the mischief they'd made back in school. Hermione, feeling decidedly reckless towards magic all of a sudden, had quietly cast a Muffiato spell around their table when they'd sat down.
It was incredible how the two friends had so easily struck up a conversation during their walk to the restaurant. It was as if no time had gone by, as if they'd been writing and visiting the whole time they'd been apart. Aside from the fact that neither knew any details of the other's new life - but eventually the conversation turned to that topic, too.
"Now don't take this wrong," Hermione said, "but why exactly are you here, Harry?"
Harry took a sip of his drink. "Honestly…just a whim."
"What do you mean? A whim?"
Harry shrugged. "Well, it's Friday…I got your letter yesterday, and it seemed like you were - might want to see me. So I thought I'd stop by and catch up."
Hermione frowned with her eyes. "Stop by? Harry, no offense, but we haven't spoken or even written in more than two years…"
"I know, and I was just missing you, lately. A lot."
Hermione looked down at her plate. "Yeah," she said. There was so much feeling inside her she felt like she was suffocating. She wanted to tell Harry that not writing had been a mistake, that living without him had never felt right, that she couldn't stand another day without her best friend. But all she said was, "I've missed you, too, Harry."
She looked up at him - he was smiling, a little embarrassed-looking. But then he said, "Lucky you weren't busy, huh?" Harry chuckled. She could tell it was forced as he tried to change the tone of their conversation.
"Yeah," Hermione said, following suit. She tried to sound less serious. "I'm not usually busy, though. I spend most of my time studying."
"I should have known," he said. "So you're liking University life?"
Hermione nodded. "Learning is something I'm good at," she said. "You know that. Of course, this is nothing like Hogwarts…I mean, besides for the obvious reasons…I haven't really connected with anyone here. But the instruction is first-rate."
"You want to be a doctor, then?"
"I don't know. I guess." Hermione looked out the window.
"Well why else study your bloody arse off for years and years? Right?"
"Yeah," she said, not really agreeing. "I don't know if I want to be a doctor, really. Well, most people at university don't know what they want to do. It all gets a bit confusing just about now."
Harry finished off the last few bites of his dinner. Over chewing he said, "But you want to go back to being a Muggle?"
"Oh, I don't know. Don't ask me…" Hermione sighed. "That's not what I meant to say. I mean, of course you can ask me. I just don't know how to answer."
"It's okay," Harry said. "I know how you feel." He crossed his utensils on his plate and slid it to the edge of the table. "Why'd you decide to come to University, though? And why in the states?"
Hermione distractedly played with her straw paper. "I don't know. I wanted to try being someone different for a while, I guess."
"You don't seem different to me," Harry said.
"Yeah…I thought that by moving away and starting over I would find out who I was supposed to be. Find out that without the war and without - well, without taking care of you and Ron…I thought I might be somebody different."
"Well, I can appreciate wanting to get away," he said. "Everyone thought that things would go back to normal after the war. I don't know how we were supposed to go on living like nothing happened after - after all that happened."
"Exactly," Hermione said. "That's exactly how I felt. I didn't want to get caught up in pushing myself into that mold of how I thought I should act, how other people thought I would be. I never had a normal relationship with you or Ron or even myself - we were all always defined by the war…"
After a pause Harry said, "I'm not mad at you, Hermione." He must have noticed the glisten that was starting to appear in her eyes. "And Ron was just a git."
"Thanks," she said. She didn't speak for a moment but then said, "I feel the worst about Ron."
"Don't," Harry said. "I won't lie to you, he was torn up when you left. But he's forgiven you."
"Well that's good to hear," Hermione said sarcastically. She sniffled loudly.
"No, Hermione, don't take it that way. I did preface by saying he was a git, remember."
She shrugged. "Me and Ron could have been something," she said. "In a different time, if Fred hadn't died…"
Harry reached his hand across the table and touched hers. "No use, Hermione. Don't do that to yourself."
"You're right," she said. "But all that time…It just seems like it was such a waste."
"Knowing you hasn't been a waste to me," Harry said.
Hermione was quiet when she spoke. "I didn't mean that all those years of you and me and Ron were wasted. That's not what I meant. Your friendship means more to me than you can know… …even though we haven't, well…I'm really glad you stopped by."
Just then the waitress came by to clear their empty plates, and the sincerity of the moment passed. Harry was the first to speak. "Well, I'm officially on holiday for the next week. So if you'd like to do some more catching up, I think I'll stay in the states."
"Most certainly," Hermione said. "I'd love for you to stay with me."
"Oh," Harry said, "I didn't mean to invite myself. Really, I'm planning on staying in a hotel, if you'd just point me in the right direction."
"Definitely not," Hermione replied. "I've been awful enough to you to last the rest of our lives. Anyway, my roommate is away for the weekend so there's room enough until Monday at least."
"I don't guess you'll let me say no," Harry said.
Hermione shook her head, grinning. "No."
"Alright, that's decided then," he said.
As the two walked back across campus to Hermione's dormitory, she took the opportunity to point out some parts of the campus to Harry: where her classes were held, where she liked to sit for lunch when the weather was warm, the sorority house that was entirely witches.
"And you don't have any friends that are witches?" Harry asked.
"I don't know, some of them might be," she said. "But nobody knows I'm one."
Harry nodded curtly. "Suppose buddying up with them would have been counter-intuitive?"
"Yeah," she said. No more words came. It was getting late, and she was getting tired…and it was getting harder to keep her mind from wandering into that familiar trove of guilt.
They walked along the sidewalk, side by side, Hermione taking two steps to each one of Harry's. A dusting of snow was starting to settle across the campus. The flakes fell silently; the only sounds were of their footsteps and the quiet chatter of a couple a few yards ahead, walking slowly and holding hands. Hermione felt a pang in her chest. She yearned for that same connection, that closeness, that contact with someone else.
"You haven't said much about what you've been up to, Harry," Hermione said.
"Just because it's not that exciting," Harry said.
"I'd like to hear about it, at any rate. You're living in Leeds, then?"
"Not exactly - well, on the outskirts, yes, but I've got a Muggle post box in Leeds. I'm actually sharing a flat with Neville."
"Oh, that's wonderful. I always liked Neville. He's doing well, then? Neville?"
"Yeah, great," Harry said. "He's running the greenhouse in East Keswick…moved right up to managing the whole lot after only a few weeks. The owner says he's a natural green thumb."
"And you?" Hermione asked. "Any reason you're hiding what you're up to these days? Didn't even mention it in your letter."
"No reason…nothing to hide. I haven't been doing anything."
"Nothing? I find that hard to believe."
Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. "I tried out being an Auror…I mean I applied for the training, and I started on with that. I was surprised they let me in, seeing as I hadn't even finished school. Just wasn't for me, though."
"But I thought you wanted to be an Auror?"
"I did, I guess."
Hermione's tone was dismayed but sympathetic. "Then why did you give up?"
"Dunno…it just didn't feel right. Half the old Aurors are gone - Moody, Tonks…"
Hermione didn't press. She knew how deeply their deaths had cut into Harry's soul. She'd had barely known them yet silently cried herself to sleep every night for months after the war. Hermione guessed that Harry had likely had enough of battling the Dark Arts for the rest of his life. She knew she had.
"Anyway," Harry continued, "the Brits are all bonkers over me, still. Can't barely go anyplace without being asked about it."
Hermione bit her lip and nodded in understanding. Poor Harry…it must be hard trying to heal from your past when it's plastered on every newspaper and spilling from the lips of every passer-by. "Well nobody in the states will likely recognize you," she said, trying to be comforting. "Nobody recognized me - not that I was as famous as you, but I did share a small bit of your uncomfortable limelight."
"Yeah?" Harry said. "Well then maybe this is where I belong."
"You want to move away?" Hermione asked, taken aback. "But what about Ginny? And Ron? And Neville, and everyone, really?"
"What about them? They'll get on without me."
"Harry, take my advice, abandoning your best friends isn't the best idea," Hermione said.
Harry shrugged his shoulders again. "Ron's gone anyway - he was drafted to the Chudley Cannons last summer and been off training since. And the flat belongs to Neville, his Gran bought it for him, so it's not like he'll be shorted on rent."
"But Ginny? Certainly she'll be crushed," Hermione replied.
"We haven't been together for over a year."
"What?" Hermione yelped. The word came out with a sound of relief that she hadn't intended.
"We never got on well. Once we stopped snogging constantly and started talking to each other, it was pretty clear. Lots of bickering."
"Oh," Hermione said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Don't be sorry," Harry said. "That was just a mess. That was never meant to be."
Hermione paused. She noticed the bitter edge to his words. "I wager Ron wasn't too happy about it, you two breaking up."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron was in a state about a lot of things right after the war. He is one of my best mates, but he's a right git a lot of the time."
Hermione could just imagine how horrible Ron had likely been to Harry, even if the breakup had been a mutual decision. It was true that Ron did have the emotional range of a teaspoon, as Hermione had once articulated, but even so it was undeniable that protecting his baby sister was something Ron did with tenacity. "You two not on speaking terms, then?"
"No, we're fine. Everything between me and the Weasleys got better when…when Ron started dating Luna."
Hermione gasped inwardly. "Oh…Ron is - dating - Luna."
Harry nodded but didn't offer any more.
Soon enough they were both standing outside of Hermione's dormitory, the warm light from inside inviting them in. "Well, here we are, this is my dormitory." Hermione stepped under the overhang by the door and brushed the snow off the arms of her jacket.
Harry followed suit. "Am I allowed to come up?" he asked.
"Of course," she said, opening her wallet and trying to finesse her ID card from the jumble of American bills inside. "This isn't Hogwarts. This stairs won't disappear under your feet."
Hermione tried to speak lightly, but her mind was overflowing with conflict. How could Ron be in a relationship with Luna? After Hermione, he'd chosen Luna? Hermione had always like Luna well enough, but in all fairness she was no comparison to Hermione in either sense or character. That Ron - what a toad! Whining every time something didn't go his way…first Hermione's leaving, then Ginny and Harry's breakup.
Harry and Ginny, to begin with…just destined to be botched. Everyone could see those two were a terrible match. Of course, Ginny had wit, and she was bold, especially for a girl…and, Hermione couldn't deny, absolutely gorgeous. She must have been twenty pounds lighter and three inches taller than Hermione, with silky hair that cooperated with a person.
But Harry was a special exception to the male sex. Surely he appreciated physical beauty, and even wit and audacity - but Harry needed a partner who was, well, just as broody and profound and deep as he was. He and Ginny had never connected, at least not in any way other than by the mouth. Hermione had watched Harry lust over Cho, and then Ginny, but she knew he was never fulfilled by either of them. The look on his face after a Quidditch victory…on his one and only Christmas with his godfather…those expressions had never been duplicated when Harry was with Ginny.
"Do you need some help?" Harry asked.
Hermione looked up, embarrassedly realizing that her hand was thrust into her wallet as she stood still and watched it not move. "Oh, sorry," she said, "I was just remembering that - something. Never mind. Here it is." She swiped her card through the reader on the door; it unlocked so they could walk in.
Harry blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the brighter interior and looked around the lobby. "Seems nice enough," he said. "How do you like living here?"
Hermione lead him to the stairs and replied, "It's fine. I'd prefer my own bedroom, though. Deirdre - my roommate - she's really not awful, but she's always ragging on me for studying too much."
Harry laughed. "Good. Someone had to take the place of me and Ron."
Hermione cringed inwardly at the name. "I suppose."
Harry didn't notice that she spoke coldly rather than with a feint of exasperation at his joke. "Well I can't wait to meet her then. Perhaps she'll show me a good time this weekend while your nose is buried in a book."
"I told you already, she's away for the weekend," Hermione said, nonplussed. They'd arrived on her floor - she unlocked the door which led into their living room and walked in ahead of Harry. She was glad that none of her other suitemates were in.
"Come on, Hermione, I'm just trying to irk you," Harry said, stepping over the spilt contents of someone's school bag.
Hermione put her hand on the bedroom door knob but didn't turn it. She braced herself against the wall instead. "I know," she said, squinching her eyes. She wasn't going to let herself cry. "I'm just - Ron - is a total - prat."
Her willpower was no match for the burning in her eyes, and hot tears streaked down her face. She wouldn't sob, she told herself. Ron wasn't worth all of this…
But before she knew it she was in a heap on the floor, and Harry was hugging her wet face to his shoulder. He hugged her gently, unsure of how close was too close…but Hermione hugged him back with everything inside her. The torment of the war, the disappointment at her failed relationship with Ron, the stress of her separation from Harry and her life in Britain…
Harry just sat there on the floor beside her, arms wrapped about her shoulders, rubbing her back in the most comforting way. When her breaths became slower and less erratic, she pulled herself away and tried to look at him. Everything was blurry through her eyes, but she could tell he was - well, scared. "Thanks," she said. "If you haven't been able to tell, I'm quite the bloody mess. So if you didn't want to stay with me, I'd understand."
"Blimey, Hermione, you think I'd leave you right now?"
"I don't know," she said. "Not really. But this isn't fair, you're on vacation. You're not here to put me back together."
"How do you know what I'm here for?" he asked quietly.
Hermione just sniffled and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her coat.
Harry put his hands on Hermione's shoulders and tipped her chin up so that their eyes met. "Listen, Hermione. A lot of shit has happened to us. It's not wrong for you to cry about it."
Hermione half-nodded. She tried to stop grimacing; she knew her face must have been a sight.
"The reason I came here was because I missed you," Harry said. "I don't ever want to miss you like that again."
Harry's soft gaze and the passion in his words made Hermione's stomach flip. And then, very gently, he separated himself from her and stood up. With a small swish of his wand and an "alohamora," he unlocked her bedroom door and swung it open. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand to her. "The rest of my night is devoted to you."
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