Chapter IV: The Crime of Love
--
"The crime of loving is forgetting."
-Maurice Chevalier
"Hey," Harry greeted with a grunt as he opened the door for Neville.
Neville rolled his eyes. "Don't give `hey' me," he immediately chastised. "I may be a bit scared of you at times, but when you hurt Hermione… well, it's different then. You can just fuck off then," he bitterly replied, punctuating the expletives solely because he wasn't used to using them as often.
Harry frowned, surprised by the words uttered. Neville had never been that bloke; he was the reliable one, the nice one, the one who never got in the way. It was a wholly different facet of his personality-one that Harry loathed just a smidge… or possibly more. The bitterness simply wasn't something that he was accustomed too and it made the gravity of the whole situation all the more palpable.
"So… are you going to let me in?" Neville derisively asked.
"Right," Harry nodded, scowling as he further opened the door so that Neville could pass through.
He couldn't help, but watch Neville as he made his way into the townhouse. There was something so different about the man. It was an off-putting change. Everything about him simply had an air of abhorrence towards Harry. His back was so stiff that his anger was more than clear. It wasn't the laid back Longbottom that everyone was so accustomed to, that much was more than clear.
As soon as Neville walked into the living room he paused, cocking his head to the side, his gaze taking on a calculative air as he assessed it.
"It's odd, I know," Harry commented in a futile attempt at creating some sort of peace or common ground. "I thought the same thing when I first came in here. It's really weird, it's both Hermione… and not, right?"
"Yeah," Neville whispered, his brow furrowed and creases marred his forehead, "I guess that's what it is…"
"Come on," Harry ordered. "Ron's upstairs in the library, we can talk there."
"Okay," Neville nodded, allowing himself to be led out.
--
"He made me feel as if I wasn't boring and plain, but fascinating and stunning. I don't know if you can comprehend how amazing… life altering something like that can be, but I can assure you that it's the most fantastic feeling ever. He completely altered my perception of myself. While I still have my insecurities-they were simply too deeply ingrained for me to just forget them-they aren't debilitating anymore. If anything the thought of them is empowering… the reminder of how much I've progressed… having something to fight for or towards… proving everyone wrong… showing that there are more facets to my personality."
"He," she paused, the conclusion suddenly striking her with such force that it she had to back peddle for a second to reassess. "He changed me," she finally admitted, her voice a hoarse whisper. "He made me better… he built me up," she finished, her voice choked as she forced the words out. "He loved me wholly and completely, just like I did him."
"So what changed then?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But he stopped."
"Stopped what?"
"Loving me."
How can you know something like that for sure?"
She let out a self-deprecating sigh before explaining. "When… when he doesn't look at you the same way anymore, with that awe that he had in his eyes for so long… that's something that's hard to miss. It kills you. Trust me."
"I'll take your word for it then," the voice replied. "But why did you stay with him if he wasn't there… or invested anymore?"
"I didn't, not initially at least."
"What do you mean?"
"I ended things. Broke up with him."
"What happened?"
"It was a year after we finished school. I ended things then. I guess I was pretty lucky actually…"
"How so? I'd always assumed that breakups are terrible things when you still love the individual," the voice noted.
"There is that factor," she admitted with a small laugh. "But he and I were also always very publicity and media shy… we ensured that our relationship never turned into a media frenzy, we kept the whole thing very quiet actually. It helped a lot. It was a lot less painful to deal with the whole thing when I didn't have it plastered everywhere, advertising the news of our breakup. Made it easier to properly wallow. I had peace… at the very least, I had that."
"But it didn't last long?"
"No," Hermione replied, her tone quizzical. "It did, why would you ask that?"
"Well something must have changed," the voice noted. "Something to get you to this point."
"I guess something did change," she admitted.
"Oh?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "We got back together. He was charming as ever and I believed him. I'd missed him so much… wanted him so badly that I was desperate to believe him."
"Desperate?"
"Yeah," she divulged, rather ashamed by her admission. "He just… I don't know what it is about him, but he can make me feel so complete… whole."
"Then why are you even here?"
"Because… because even though he can make me feel so amazing, practically superhuman even, he can also destroy me like no other. He can break me so easily… effortlessly even. I'd rather just always feel average than have to experience this ridiculously tumultuous roller coaster of highs and lows. It just… it hurts too much for me to handle. I'm not strong enough for something like that. It may be terribly weak of me to say that, but even I have my limits."
"hmmm," the voice hummed.
"Hmmm?!" she incredulously scoffed. "I pour my heart out for you and the only words… the only consonance you can offer me is a blasted hmmm?"
"It's not my job to be your therapist," the voice pointed out.
"No, but you could at least be somewhat reciprocative!"
"I am."
"Oh really, how?"
"I'm helping you… making it possible for you to move on from him," the voice reminded her, reassuring her. "Now, take me back."
"To what? When?"
"To when you were broken… and then the reunion."
"I… I'd really rather not. It's not something I like to remember or even dwell upon. It… it hurts and it's embarrassing."
"Hermione," the voice was terse and cutting.
"Yes?" she hesitantly asked.
"You don't have a choice in the matter. You wanted help, now you have to do what I say. Take me back. Take me back now."
--
"Something about all of this just feels off," Neville announced as Harry showed him into the library.
"Well of course something feels off, you dolt. Hermione's gone missing!" Ron sneered, rolling his eyes at Neville's stupidity.
"Not that," Neville retorted, immediately scowling. If there was one person who he'd never been able to forgive for his rudeness in their youth it was Ron. At least Malfoy had the excuse of terrible manners courtesy of his father. Ron was simply a berk, as far as Neville was concerned. "This apartment isn't Hermione."
"I know," Harry cut in, stopping Ron from making some sort of exclamation that would only serve to make the situation tenser than it already was.
"No, I don't think you really understand," Neville said, shaking his head. "Everything here's from IKEA."
Ron squinted as he repeated Neville. "IKEA? What the bloody hell is that?"
"Are you sure?" Harry simultaneously intoned.
Neville nodded in reply, the tips of his ears pinking a bit as he admitted, "I like interior design… I order their catalogue and a few other periodicals. Trust me, I'd recognize IKEA. The furniture's pretty distinct most of the time… and this looks exactly what their showrooms would be designed like."
"But… no," Harry shook his head. "No."
Neville sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. "Harry, I don't know what the hell's going on here, but it's something big. Hermione doesn't even really like IKEA all that much."
"Fuck," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes as he scratched his neck. What the hell has she gotten herself into this time?"
"I don't know," Neville admitted with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders. "Harry, Hermione's not a total bint… she can make stupid decisions when overly emotional, but something has to bring that on. What did you do?"
"I just… we got into a fight. We both said things, which is why I just don't understand how she can do this. She's never just run off like this, and… and this letter," Harry picked up the little card, "what am I supposed to make of this? What does it mean? I'm forgotten? What the fuck?!"
"It means she's an idiot," Ron quipped.
Neville merely sent him a dirty look in reply.
"Don't give me that look," Ron defended. "She's my friend, too… but it sounds like she did something stupid, and I won't deny it if she did. Unlike you, I'm a tad bit more realistic when it comes to my friends"
"This just doesn't sound like Hermione. She's not the type to run away like this."
"Well… people do idiotic things. Also, what the hell is the Make a Dream Foundation anyway?" Ron asked.
"No clue, never heard of them," Neville replied. "You, Harry?"
"Never," he shook his head. "But I called into the office and am having some trainees do recon on the firm."
"Okay, good," Neville nodded. "Has anyone looked into her credit card and bank records to see whether there have been any charges in the past few days."
"No charges," Harry replied. "But she took out a huge withdrawal a few hours after our argument apparently. I checked out the records myself after she hadn't been home in a day. Usually we'd try to rehash it all out. When she didn't come home after so long I got worried and decided to check up on her…"
"Great," Neville muttered with a sigh. "What the hell are we going to do then?"
"I have my laptop, I'm going to connect to the internal database and do some research… why don't you two try getting her on her WiziCell, maybe you'll have more luck than I did… other than that, I think our only option is to wait until we have information on the foundation."
"I hate this," Neville muttered as he whipped out his phone.
--
"I just can't do this anymore, Harry," I admitted with a whimper, and I can't deny that the heartbroken look on his face brightened my spirits just a bit. It means too much to know that he really did care after all.
"Can't… can't do what, Hermione?" Harry asked, his words coming out almost hesitantly. He was afraid of my reply, that much was obvious. I think he knew what was coming; I just don't think he realized why I was breaking down right before his eyes like that.
"I can't just stay with you like this, Harry. I… I think it's time we took a break," I told him, biting my lip as I watched his face turn ashen.
"But-"
I shook my head, effectively cutting him off. "We've been together a year now, Harry," I said, pausing to try to gulp the growing lump in my throat.
"And they've been great…" Harry goaded. I don't know why he was trying so hard, but for some reason I think he was scared to let go. Ron and I… we're his security blanket, in a way. We keep him grounded and we were the sole constants in his life. I think he was just terrified of losing that.
"Harry," I shook my head, my eyes so wet with tears that they began to sting if I kept them open too long. "I'm not happy anymore… not like this, and I don't think you are either."
"But I-"
"No, please," my voice cracked. "Please don't do this, Harry. I… I've honestly thought about this for a long time and… and I just think this is for the best. You'll trust me on that, won't you?"
He reluctantly nodded, his hand creeping across the table, reaching for mine. He squeezed it. "I'll give you your space," he promised. "But it's only for now. I'm not letting you go, Hermione."
"I'm not leaving, Harry," I promised. "I'll always be your friend."
"I don't mean like that," he told me. "I mean I'm not letting go of us. You need space now, Hermione, and I get that… I honestly do, but I'm not going to let go of what we have. It's something good… better than I'd ever hoped for so you can forget about me just giving up."
"Don't… don't do this to me, Harry," I cried, a whole new storm of tears taking me over. "It… it hurts."
"And I don't want to hurt you, but I think… in the long run and all, we'd both be a mess without the other, and I'll prove that to you, Hermione," he promised me.
"I think that that was the most excruciatingly painful night I'd ever had to experience. There he was… saying everything I'd always wanted to hear," she explained. "He said the things he'd never said while we were together and I had to turn him away. It… it pained me so much, but I had to."
"Why?"
"Why what?" she asked, befuddled.
"Why did you have to turn him away? If he was saying everything you'd always wanted to hear, why were you letting him go?"
"Because he was confused."
"How so?"
"He thought he couldn't be without me. We'd been together for so long that he was just so used to having me there… in that way. He needed to realize that he didn't love me as much as he told himself he did," she explained, her tone about as rational as could be.
"And you're sure?"
"About what?"
"That he wasn't in love with you," the voice questioned.
"To be this sure, I have to be right… don't I?"
--
"I… I think I've got something," Harry announced after two hours of relentlessly typing away on his computer while Ron took a nap and Neville ordered them all some food.
"What'd you find?" Neville asked, his interest instantly piqued by Harry's words. His head had snapped towards him so quickly that Harry was surprised that his neck was able to handle the brutality, but he supposed it was only natural, too.
"It's not much," Harry admitted with a dissatisfied frown. "But I've managed to find something at least. All of the searches I did for the foundation didn't come up with any results, but I decided to try one for licenses in case this firm needed them and I got one," Harry explained.
"Okay… and?" Neville asked. "What license is it? Do you have any addresses or contact information?" he pushed, his eyes wide and disbelieving over the fact that Harry could be so idiotic as to not even bother with such pivotal details. He was an auror, for fuck's sake. Weren't they supposed to be more intuitive than that, or something to that extent?
"Well, fuck. If this is the best of the force protecting me, then I may as well run while I can, like Hermione," he bitterly sniped to himself. Angry as he was, however, he wasn't about to put himself in direct contact with Harry's infamous temper. Hermione had warned him about the tumultuous storm that ensued when Harry went apeshit and made him promise, on numerous occasions, not to put himself in harm's way. Apparently, Harry was a bit unstable. Neville wasn't sure whether that was honestly supposed to be a surprise, but Hermione had sounded like she was revealing the best kept secret ever when telling him so maybe others were just blind?
"Memoria novus ordo… and no. At least not yet," Harry replied, pulling Neville out of his all consuming thoughts. Neville noted that his tone was rather bitter, but he didn't appear to be reaching for his wand so he considered his personal mission accomplished.
Ron, however, merely cocked his head to the side as he listened to the exchange, puzzled. "What the hell is that?"
"Dunno, never took Latin," Neville blandly pointed out, rolling his eyes. The bastard was a berk, simple as that as far as he was concerned. Maybe he could respect how protective he appeared to be of Hermione, but really… sometimes Neville was even wholly doubtful that Ron could even spell idiot. "Can you look it up in a translator or something, Harry?"
"On it," Harry muttered, riveted by the screen before him as he began typing again. "Hmmm," he hummed, his lips thinning as he read from the screen.
"What is it?" Ron impatiently snapped.
"Says that memoria novus ordo means memory new order."
Neville heaved a heavy breath, wincing. "Well… I guess at least we know that there's got to be some truth to those cards I guess…"
"Apparently Protozoa Incorporated is the manufacturer and licenser for it," Harry further informed them. "I'll forward this to the trainees, see if they can follow up on this and get me a contact… Maybe we can talk to someone and get an address for this `Make a Dream Foundation' from them…"
"Well there has to be one," Ron nodded. "I mean how the hell would Hermione even know about them if their name wasn't anywhere…"
"I have no idea," Harry admitted. "Honestly," he breathed out, clutching his forehead with his right hand, squeezing to try to ease his headache-among other aches, though he was loathe to admit it-over the situation. "I don't know what the hell she's thinking now. This is all just a bit too insane, in my opinion. Don't you think?"
"Well I wouldn't know, really," Neville immediately retorted. "I mean, neither of us even know why the hell she might even consider forgetting you, Harry," he broached, raising a brow so as to challenge Harry.
Harry's back stiffened at the thought, but he didn't bite. Instead, Harry informed them, "Well… then all I can say is tough luck. I'm not letting her do something stupid that'll just fuck us both over. She can just forget it."
"Well what if it's what she wants?" Neville pushed and the scowl marring Harry's face deepened. The creases in his face were so deeply etched that Neville couldn't help but think how shock he'd be if they didn't leave marks afterwards. Young as Harry was, he didn't think any skin could take that sort of abuse.
"She doesn't know what she wants. Not really. She took things for face value and stupidly acted on her emotions and that's that," Harry tersely informed him.
Ron decided to make a reappearance at that point. He initially paused, biding his time, considering how to phrase his second question as he wet his lips. "Harry…"
"What?" Harry gruffly asked.
"Maybe you should consider that she actually was in the right frame of mind…"
"No," Harry cuttingly grunted.
"But, Harry-"
Harry's whole body whipped towards Ron in what felt like a fraction of a second. The look in his eyes, the power emanating from his body… it was the must frightening sight Neville had ever seen, and for once he saw that supposed "Chosen One" who'd managed to kill such a powerful wizard. For once he saw what the talk was all about and it scared him shitless.
He'd always known Potter was unstable, but he'd never realized how much clout there was behind it. Maybe Hermione was on to something after all…
Still, he couldn't help, but put himself in the line of fire. Screw Hermione, he figured, she left me with the bastard anyway what'd she expect?
"Fuck you, Potter," he spat. "This has been a long time coming, by the looks of it, and you can just stop pretending! No more bullshit. She left you."
"No," Harry pushed. "You… you don't even understand. You never thought I was good enough for Hermione; you don't get us. She… she's it for me, Neville, and it's the same for her, too. I know it."
"Maybe you believe so, Harry, but-"
"No," Harry replied, the word lengthened as he stared Neville down. "You can just fuck off if that's all you're going to say. It's not like that with us. We're young, and so what? It's why we fuck up all of the time, but if she did this… well if she did this I'm still not giving up, and I know she wouldn't want me to. Not if she was in the right frame of mind," he adamantly promised.
Neville hated to admit it, but he had to respect the devotion there. After so many years of being the odd one out, he was used to watching people, detecting lies, and the arse really did seem to love the chit. Why the fuck she cared about him, however, still perplexed him.
"I… I hope you're right, Harry, but I'm just not that sure," Neville admitted. And he honestly did because if it came between Harry or some ominous company, even he could admit that Hermione was safer with Potter… solely of the two, of course. In other situations, he might not be so kind in his assessment.
Ron sighed, finally deciding to join the testy conversation he'd so been hoping to avoid rejoining, for fear of putting himself at risk of the testy temper that had made its appearance. "Harry… get your head out of your arse. Neville… just let him be," his voice was soft, but words authoritative and the two listened. "Hermione's what's important," he reminded them. "We're all going to have to grow up during this… and then maybe later we can have that pissing contest Hermione keeps talking about…"
Sadly, Neville was quite sure that Ron was totally serious about the latter. The imbecile had always been a bit too intrigued by that idiom.
Still, even though his words weren't eloquent or kind, they got the desired effect. No one spoke for the next hour, instead they worked on whatever they could to further the investigation.
--
"Do you think he ever truly loved you?" the voice asked.
"I don't think it's a question of that so much as whether he was ever in love with me," Hermione admitted.
"That sounds like a terrible thing to question," the voice noted. "How long were you together?"
"Going on about six years now. There were points in between during which we'd take a break… they were pretty short, but we both managed to fit in a few dates with other people."
The voice hummed.
"Yes?" Hermione asked, loathing that hum more than she ever thought it was possible to despise a sound so simple as a hum.
"I'm just wondering why you'd put yourself through that for years on end then… that questioning. If it hurt you so much, why'd you let it go on?"
"I… I don't know. I guess I just thought that there was something worth fighting for. I wasn't ready to give up on that hope."
"And now there isn't?"
"I don't know," she candidly admitted. "Maybe I'm just more jaded than before?"
"Sounds like a small excuse to use for losing your memory is all… willingly undergoing brain damage…"
"But… isn't it always the small things that make up the truly terrible ones?"
"I don't know," the voice admitted, loudly exhaling. "But you better hope so, don't you think?"
--
Author's Note: Many apologies, this took longer than expected since I was so busy with other work (blogging for work *sigh*… I truly loathe blogging) that I didn't have as much time as I'd like to write this. I have however, promised myself I wouldn't let this story become utter crap again so I refuse to post unless I genuinely like a chapter (as opposed to last time when I was sometimes "eh" about them).
Many thanks, again, to my ever so wonderful beta, Searcy.
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