We All Have Scars

Author’s Note: Hello everyone, here’s my newest fanfic. I think JKR could have done amazing things in the aftermath of Hermione’s torture, but that’s not how she saw it. Oh well, that’s why we have portkey<3 Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter place, characters, ideas, etc. are not mine.

The coarse sand slid between his toes as he made his way down the steep dunes to the water’s edge. The soft sea breeze ruffled his messy raven locks as the sound of the ocean met his ears. Harry Potter’s bright emerald eyes scanned the beach until his eyes came to rest on the young woman seated in the sand, the tide reaching the tips of her toes. Harry continued to make his way down the beach increasing the distance between him and the empty cottage on the hill. His focus was all for the woman before him, yards away he could see the tension in the set of her slim shoulders. Her left arm cradled against her as she faced the setting sun.

“Hermione,” he murmured as he approached the spot where she had anchored herself on the beach out of sight of Bill and Fleur’s cottage. In the few days since the Trio arrived with the help of Dobby, Hermione had made created her own self-imposed exile. Harry assumed she needed time to herself and had tried to escape everyone but for the third day in a row she’d risen early and disappeared to the beach. With the small house empty, the inhabitants having taken a trip to town for groceries and such Harry decided it was time to attempt to comfort his dear friend.

Harry took no time in reaching her side, but her gaze never wavered from the softly crashing waves. “May I?” Harry asked searching for her eyes. “Yes,” Hermione murmured quietly, raising her right hand to pull her wind-blown mahogany locks away from her face. Harry lowered his lean frame into the sand and rested his elbows on his knees. The pair sat in silence for some time as the sun continued its descent to the horizon. Harry transferred his gaze from the sea to his friend of seven years; the strong young woman he knew had closed herself off after torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. “Hermione, I’m worried about you. You’ve spent the last three days out here, only coming in to sleep. You haven’t been eating well at all, either. Ron may be thick enough to respect you telling him to sod off but I cannot let you deal with this alone,” Harry spoke, breaking the silence, his voice low and gentle.

Hermione remained silent; giving no inclination that she’d heard his words. Harry returned his gaze to the ocean, watching the waves as he waited for her to speak. Minutes passed before her heard her say “Thank you, Harry.” Harry turned back to her, chocolate finally meeting glinting jade; Harry gave Hermione a small smile encouraging her to continue. Hermione kept her eyes trained on his face, not quite meeting his eyes as she said “Now we both have scars, memories of traumatic events forever etched in our skin for the world to see,” her voice upset with emotion. Harry’s ears stung at the raw pain her words and watched as she pulled her left arm even closer to her body. Harry spoke, his tone soft “Hermione, you are the strongest person I know. You could have given in, told her that she had captured me and that we were destroying Voldemort’s Horcruxes. You endured torture for me, for what we were trying to accomplish, you won,” He paused, lifting a hand to his scar before continuing, “A scar means whatever you want it to mean.”

Hermione let a forced laugh pass her lips before extricating her arm from its place around her stomach so he could see the word “Mudblood” carved in jagged letters into the underside of her forearm, the skin still raw. Harry’s heart leapt into his throat as white hot anger coursed through his veins, he fell silent as he cursed Lestrange for the injury she’d caused Hermione. Hermione watched the emotions pass over Harry’s face, feeling sad and useless as she had since the fight at Malfoy Manor. At that moment the careful control Hermione had over her emotions collapsed and she turned to him, voice raised and asked “What else could this possibly mean to me, Harry?” brandishing the wound in his face. Caught off guard by the fire in Hermione’s eyes, Harry’s eyes widened as she stood and stalked down the beach, farther away from the now distant cottage. Paralyzed in the sand, Harry watched as Hermione continued to her rapid pace until she stopped, head turned up toward the darkening sky. Harry quickly got to his feet and set off at a run to her as she fell to her knees and began to scream. Harry’s heart caught at the agony and stress that burst forth from Hermione through her scream. Harry didn’t ask for permission nor did he hesitate for a moment before he threw his strong arms around her and held her as her scream dissolved into sobs.

Only when she quieted did Harry finally speak, “Mione, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over in her ear. His words seemed to calm her, for she stood and turned to him her face pink and the trail of her tears silently flowing. “Harry,” she started, pausing to take a deep breath, “I hate that word. Now I have to carry it on my body for the rest of my life, a constant reminder of what I am. I feel useless,” she finished, her voice quiet as she lowered her head. Harry pulled her small frame into his, encircling his arms around her waist as her head fell to his shoulder. Harry held her as she cried silently; seeming to mourn for the part of her she’d lost in Malfoy Manor. It took several minutes before those sobs dissipated and Hermione pulled away from Harry and turned to the sea, her back to him the tide now reaching her ankles.

“I’m supposed to be stronger than this,” Hermione stated aloud to no one in particular her tired toffee eyes searching the calming water. Harry moved to stand behind her, almost touching and spoke softly, his deep baritone rumbling in her ear, “Mione, you are the most amazing person in my life. You are allowed to fall apart. The countless times I’ve lost my way you were there to take care of me, let me do the same for you. Please don’t hold it in.” Harry wrapped his arms around her waist holding her to him, comforting her with his presence. Hermione raised her hands from their position at her sides and laid them atop his laced fingers, leaning into his embrace. “Please, Mione. Let me help you heal,” Harry whispered quietly his mouth inches from her ear.

The young wizards stood on the deserted beach as the sun began to set where the sky meets the sea. Harry waited for Hermione to speak or pull away, the young witch did neither. Finally, Hermione sighed and asked, “Since when are you the one taking care of me?” Harry was thankful to hear the smile in her voice and responded “Because you’re finally allowing me to. No one can do everything for others and take care of themselves too, Mione. You’ve got to be taken care of too.” Hermione turned to face him, feeling more at ease than she had since their journey began. Hermione smiled at him, her deep brown eyes finally twinkling, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. A content smile spread across Harry’s face as she said “Thank you, Harry. I’ve never had someone to take care of me other than my parents. And this,” she paused, her eyes traveling to the letters on her forearm, “isn’t something they can understand.” Harry shrugged lightly, “I’m not Ron,” he stated before turning his head and kissing the scar letter by letter. Hermione’s breath caught in her chest as Harry’s feather-light kisses continued to cover the new blemish on her otherwise perfect forearm. Hermione took a deep breath to find her voice and asked, “What do you mean?” Harry’s ministrations ceased as he raised his jade eyes to hers, “I could never walk out on you, for any reason. I could never let you dismiss me and honor it when I could see the pain in your eyes. I could never blame for you anything, nor could I ever hurt you,” Harry explained, his voice serious.

Hermione, slightly taken aback asked “What does Ron have to do with anything?” Harry sighed, seating himself in the sand pulling her down beside him. “After Ron left, you became so distant. You were hardly speaking to me and throwing yourself into finding a way to destroy the locket. I didn’t understand, I thought you were upset with me because I’d told Ron to go if he wanted. I tried to help, but you pulled away when you finally began to act like yourself when I got you to dance with me,” Harry explained, images of Hermione’s smile as he twirled her around the tent parading to the front of his mind. Hermione pulled her jean-clad knees to her chest and turned to him, “I was angry at Ron for deserting us, for leaving us when we needed him. Having him there, kept my mind off of other things, things I’d been trying to avoid. When he left, those things I wanted to avoid came to the forefront and I busied myself with destroying the locket,” she responded, her gaze traveling to the patterns her toes were making in the wet sand.

Thoroughly perplexed, Harry asked “Would you mind explaining, Hermione? I’m quite lost. Was it something I did?” Hermione raised her eyes to his tender gaze and felt warmth spread in her stomach. “I’ve been avoiding the fact that I don’t feel more than brotherly love for Ron. With that knowledge, I had been trying to avoid what that also meant for me, then you and I danced and I let my mind shut down and then, it hit me. I needed to be alone, so you left. Then you came back with Ron in tow and the locket had been destroyed. Ron was actually begging me to forgive him and you, you looked as if you’d seen a ghost,” Hermione explained cautiously, then adding “What did happen to the locket, Harry?”

Harry took a few minutes to push back the image of he and Hermione locked in a passionate snog sending a fierce blush to color his cheeks. Hermione watched the symbol of embarrassment flitter across Harry’s face and waited in amused silence. Harry began to stammer, “Mm, uh, well you see,” he took a shallow breath before recounting the images the locket had produced and its destruction. “How did Ron react to the locket’s defenses?” Hermione questioned. “He took it quite well, considering what I spoke with him about on the hike back to the tent,” Harry answered, attempting to swallow the lump that had appeared in his throat.

The hope had begun to flower in the depths of Hermione’s heart at the blush that decorated Harry’s sculpted face as he told her about the locket’s image. But now, her heart had begun to race in anticipation, hoping that he would say what she’d longed to hear for so long. “What did you say?” Hermione asked quietly. Harry locked his eyes on hers, the green iris aflame with such intensity as he replied, “I told him that I was in love with you, but no matter what we needed him.” Hermione got to her feet in the last minutes of sunset, the stars barely visible in the sky. Harry stood and lazily reached a hand out to her as the first wholehearted smile lit up Hermione’s face in days, weeks even. Hermione closed the small gap between the two of them and gripped his scruffy face in her small hands and said slowly “Harry, I’m so in love with you.” A smile lit up Harry’s face as he lowered his mouth to hers in a tender first kiss.

The pair kissed for a few minutes, reveling in the taste of each other before Hermione pulled back and rested her forehead against Harry’s. Neither spoke as their breathing returned to normal the sounds of the waves taking them to a place far away from the war, where the two of them is all there was. “Harry, I’m glad you came to comfort me. I still have to deal with this and I’m glad I don’t have to do this alone. Then again, I’ve always had you at my side, haven’t I?” Hermione spoke, resting her head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry planted a small kiss on her forehead and responded, “You’ve always had me, Mione. You’ll never lose me.”

Hermione’s heart leapt at his promise, though both knew there was a battle ahead larger than they’d ever faced before. They’d stand against Voldemort together with Ron as three halves of a whole and save the Wizarding World. In that moment, for the first time they were two souls, both with their share of scars that became a whole.

Author’s Note: So, after reading a review asking for more I’ve decided to add an epilogue. Whether it needs it or not is up to you guys, but here it is. Of course, I skipped to the end of the battle. I’d love to hear thoughts on this. Hope you enjoy :)

Harry awoke in the hospital wing of Hogwarts with no concept of the day or the hour. His entire body felt heavy, drained from his battle against Voldemort. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened, the last he saw was Hermione running to him battered and bruised after Voldemort had fallen. It’s really over, his mind reminded him. Harry opened his eyes to the blurry ceiling of the oh-so-familiar infirmary. Harry reached a bandaged hand to his bedside table blindly searching for his glasses. Once he had donned his glasses, the room swam into focus. He was alone; Madame Pomfrey was not bustling around as usual yelling at him for not resting.

Harry slowly sat up, his body screaming and swung his legs over the side of the bed. I have to find her, he thought to himself as he stood up and began his walk to the doors. Outside the castle, Hermione and Ron stood on the banks of the Great Lake, it’s once threatening depths a distant fear after the events of the last week.

Ron lifted a hand to Hermione’s shoulder and said “He’ll wake up soon, Herms. Madame Pomfrey said he just needed to rest. She even left for St. Mungo’s with the rest of the Order and teachers. She wouldn’t have left if she thought he needed to be taken care of.”

“Hermione sighed, “I know, but I’d just like to see him awake and hear his voice. It would make me feel better,” not to mention I love him, Hermione’s thoughts continued for her.

Ron let his hand fall back to his side and turned to leave her in peace, but stopped and called to her. Hermione spun on the spot and looked at him questioning his soft tone.

“I already know, Hermione. You don’t have to keep it to yourself that you’re worried. It’s not hard to see that you love him, it’s never been hard to see,” Ron stated, his voice lacking its usual jealousy on the subject.

Hermione’s eyes widened and she began to apologize profusely but Ron held up a hand to silence her. “I know Herms, I know. You don’t need to apologize, I’ve accepted it. I’ve even moved on, we wouldn’t have worked. I see that now,” he said smiling. Hermione ran to him, throwing her arms around his slim waist in one of her signature hugs. Ron enveloped her in a tight hug, his quiet words only loud enough for her to hear, “If he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

Hermione laughed and stepped back from him to point at him, “Just because I’m glad you’re okay with us does not mean I’ll let you skive by on the over-protective brother bit.” Ron held up his hands in surrender, his smile stretching the length of his face. Both turned to the sound of approaching footsteps to find Luna Lovegood smiling dreamily as she reached them. Luna stood awkwardly to the side, her large grey eyes on Ron, who then reached out and took her hand drawing her to his side. Luna laid her head on his shoulder with a content smile. Ron placed a kiss on her hair and looked up at Hermione.

“Oh I see,” Hermione began, smiling widely, “Finally.” Then the two girls erupted in girlish laughter and hugged one another, while Ron looked on completely dumbfounded.

“I don’t understand, what just happened?” He asked loudly to be heard over the rushed girl talk.

Luna turned to him, “Oh Hermione and I are just catching each other up on things. You know, being girls,” her voice trailed off as she caught sight of something over Ron’s shoulder.

Ron, Hermione, and Luna turned to see the tall, muscular form of Harry crossing the grounds, his smile turning into a bright grin his eyes finally came to Hermione. Hermione pushed past Ron and Luna and ran to him, her eyes filled with unshed tears of happiness. Harry opened his arms just in time to catch her as she launched herself into his embrace. Harry held her, feeling as though his world was finally right just having her in his arms. Harry began to kiss her face, first her forehead, cheeks, nose then finally her lips.

“Harry, you’re awake,” Hermione began as she pulled back to look at his healing face, the bruises already fading. Her arm found its way around his waist as she turned to walk them down to the lake side.

“Sore, but never better,” he replied his arm winding around his shoulders. The pair shared a smile before walking the remaining distance to their companions’ side in silence. Hermione felt Harry tense as Ron took in their position but quickly comforted him by looking up at him, smiling, her eyes telling him all he needed to know.

Hermione stepped away from Harry and made her way over to Luna’s side and both watched from the sidelines as Ron threw his arms around his friend. Of course the hug lasted but a second as men don’t do that sort of thing for too long.

“You look good mate, glad to you see you up and about,” Ron said clapping Harry on the back as both women took positions at the side of their respective boyfriends.

Harry stole a look down at Hermione, and replied jovially “So am I, Ron. Glad to be alive and well with my friends around me. Oh and don’t worry yourself with the big brother speech, I would never hurt her. I expect you’ll do the same with Luna.” Ron merely laughed and nodded his acquiescence.

Luna snuck a glance at Hermione and rolled her eyes, Hermione giggled and nodded that she too felt this was completely unnecessary. The two couples began a walk around the lake discussing the three days since the end of the war and what Harry had missed while he recuperated.

Many were lost in the final battle and each name that Ron, Luna or Hermione spoke of that had given their lives in the battle hit Harry hard. Harry fell behind, lost in his thoughts of those that had passed until he stopped walking all together. He found himself standing by the white tomb that held his old Headmaster, whom he still missed dearly.

His emerald eyes searched for answers in the white marble but silence was the only response he received; people had died for him, because of him again. He hung his head and remembered each memory he had of the fallen. So absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps of the witch whom he’d given his heart to years ago. His only knowledge of her presence was her soft hand in his. Harry raised his head and turned to her, his eyes showing the pain and uncertainty he felt.

Hermione cupped his cheek in her hand, “We all have scars, Harry. Some where others can see some are inside our hearts. Those who died would not want to be scars in your heart, but memories in your heart. They died for justice, for the freedom of the Wizarding World. It’s time you stopped blaming yourself, we all need to heal including you.”

Harry said nothing, but the uncertain look in his eyes had left, his eyes now held a question to which the answer only Hermione could give him. Hermione raised her hand from his cheek and traced his scar then rolled up the sleeve of her jacket to reveal the now healed scar, the letters still visible against her pale skin. Hermione took his hand in hers and ran his fingers over the scar on her forearm.

“You see Harry, we’re the same. We and everyone else in the war must heal from this. We have our whole lives ahead of us that privilege is because of the sacrifices the lost made for us. You and I have never been stopped before, why start now?” Hermione spoke seriously, her toffee brown eyes never leaving his.

Harry cleared his throat and took her hands in his, “Is this what we’re going to be like for the rest of our lives?’ Hermione gave him a puzzled look, he smiled, “You taking care of me when I lose it, and me taking care of you when you lose it?” amusement filling his voice.

Hermione smiled slyly, “Of course, that’s how it’s always been, Potter. You’ll never be rid of me,” she said, intertwining their fingers.

“Nor do I want to be,” Harry replied, kissing her lips softly.

Throughout the years, they’d been through everything imaginable now as the couple looked across the lake into the bright sunlight nothing stood in front of them. Finally they had won the freedom to live out their lives in peace, together.