Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's Note: I know that this has not been uploaded in a while. It took me a long time to get files uploaded that looked normal without weird symbols (hopefully the problem is fixed when I upload this). I apologize for the delay - hopefully I have not lost everyone! That being said, please enjoy!

The Librarian

Chapter Two: The First Lesson

Hermione sat up from her bed, awakening from her nightmare, gasping for air. Her dreams were drowned in memories of her and Harry before she'd left. Harry's stupid moments of tactlessness and using her were really getting to her and it was difficult enough to fight those thoughts off when she was awake, but to have to face them in her dreams as well? To see him practically orgasming over the thought of his precious fan girl Ginny, and begging Hermione to almost fill out all of his Auror reports for him, was hard enough to experience the first hundred times. But Hermione always kept her mouth shut about Ginny; she was used to that, used to keeping her tongue because she knew that she wouldn't like it if Harry criticized her boyfriend… as if she'd ever want anyone besides him….

Since Ginny got the boy of her dreams, there was not much for Hermione and Ginny to talk about… there was no more boy talk, no more giggling in the room they'd shared at the Burrow over the summers. Ginny, like Harry, was treating Hermione as though she were disposable. There was no more guy advice, no more of Ginny's fan girl squeals. She'd gotten what she wanted all along. Harry was probably still with her. Heck, maybe they got married and had a kid already: and that kid was bound to be perfect, with gorgeous, athletic, completely-unlike-Hermione and not-a-know-it-all Ginny for a mother and… and Harry, who was probably even more handsome by now, as the father. Maybe the kid would even have his eyes…. Harry would make a good father, Hermione thought, he'd make sure that any children of his would get the childhood he never had. She remembered how great he was with Teddy.

Hermione got up and prepared for the day, trying to shake the morning's thoughts from her mind. The idea of beginning her first real day of being the new librarian was liberating her and it kept her going. This was the first day of her new life….

. . .

By the end of the first real day of her job - the third day of the term - the dream she'd had the night before had been forgotten and Hermione loved her job already.

She was dorky, she knew, as her classmates in her school always reminded her. Her ridicules for being such a bookworm had been endless. But Hermione could never stop loving the library.

She had thought that, given the Daily Prophet's knack for giving her a horrible reputation, the students would hate her, but in fact, many of them appreciated her. One student had even told her that she avoided the library because of Madam Pince, but now that there was a normal librarian, she'd visit more often.

A few students - a gaggling group of first years - were simply star struck by her presence, and she heard whispers of people daring each other to ask for her autograph.

However there were a few students who didn't like her because she, as the Prophet liked to remind everyone, "abandoned the Golden trio". She got a few glares when they thought she wasn't looking, but none of them dared to actually speak up against her. Most of the people who didn't like her, according to what she'd overheard while organizing some books in the Magical Sports section, simply did not go to the library as a form of boycotting her. Hermione was quite alright with that.

However, the next day, two days after she'd been hired, Hermione could sense a change in the mood of the castle.

Students were talking amongst themselves much more than usual, and they kept their voices in low murmurs. Hermione even got a few looks shot at her in the process: they were looks of worry. One might've thought she had a disease, with the way people examined her face like she was going to suddenly convulse or have a seizure.

"Do you need help finding a book?" she politely asked a group of Hufflepuffs who were crouched in a corner.

One of them said a quick, "Er, no, thanks," and then the group disbanded.

Though this all struck her as odd, she decided to shrug it off and carry on throughout her day. After all, she was used to this, especially in her fourth year. There were speculations that she and Harry were together. She'd ignored it all because, quite frankly, she liked the idea of being thought of as Harry Potter's girlfriend.

After lunch, there was even more unusual activity, though. Hermione ate her food - food she'd bought at Hogsmeade on her way up to the castle that morning - behind her desk. She never remembered seeing Madam Pince at the staff table in the Great Hall and she thought that, perhaps, since the librarians were not teachers, they did not get to sit at that table. Or maybe Madam Pince was just too grumpy to eat with other people. Either way, she was fine eating alone. She'd been doing it for the past three years except for when she hesitantly went over to her parents' house for an awkward dinner and tea, or when she stopped by Andromeda's home.

No matter how much Hermione tried to ignore it, it seemed as though an incredible, mouth-watering piece of gossip was traveling throughout the school. Hermione was an adult, and so she normally didn't care about gossip, but it seemed that this particular buzz going on had something to do with her. Students were still acting oddly around her.

"Er, Miss Granger?" a student asked hesitantly, breaking Hermione from her thoughts.

Hermione immediately snapped out of her thoughts and saw the same girl who'd told her that she had been afraid of the library because of Madam Pince.

"Oh, hello," she said distractedly from behind her desk. She shook her head and exhaled. "Checking out a book?" Hermione smiled, hoping that this would make the girl think she was normal. Too often, Hermione got lost in her own thoughts.

The girl - who must have been a fifth year - nodded and handed over a book about Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Oh, have they found a new teacher yet?" she asked conversationally as she marked down the due date on the torn inside cover. The girl nodded. "What's your name?"

"Mary King."

Hermione nodded mutely and wrote her name down on her clipboard beside the date. Ron always said how ridiculous her handwriting was - "It's way too neat to be normal," he'd mock. Hermione gripped the quill in her hand more tightly.

"So, who's the teacher?" Hermione wrote down the date the book was taken out, trying to start friendly conversation.

"Er -" the girl stammered.

Hermione looked at her strangely. "What's wrong?" She looked at the cover of the book again. "Was this the wrong book?"

"No, that's the book I wanted." Her voice lowered to a whisper and she said, "Well… er… the new Defense teacher is r-really good. It's - it's Harry Potter."

Hermione dropped the book, which landed on her foot. She cursed under her breath. A few students that had heard her giggled, however the fifth year girl did not. In fact, she looked very far from giggling.

"Oops, sorry about that," Hermione said, picking up the book again and handing it to the girl. "Er, have - have a good morning. I mean, er, evening."

"Miss Granger, are you okay?"

"What? Oh, yes, I'm quite alright," she lied. She gripped her desk tightly and felt blood rush to her head so quickly that she was afraid of passing out. All she could hear were the girl's words again: It's Harry Potter .

"You don't seem it… should I get Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, no, that's fine, Miss Ring."

"King," the girl corrected.

"Yes, very well… off you go, Miss Ring."

Mary Ring - er, King - walked off, looking like she'd done something terribly wrong but also like she didn't know what had just happened.

Hermione was still clutching onto her desk for her dear life.

He was here? He was here, and a teacher, no less! How did that happen? Why, oh why, could she not have this one job without worrying about a thing? She felt like she was breaking her promise to herself just by being in the same building as him.

She clutched her heart, hoping that that would somehow reduce her alarmingly high heart rate. She felt strangely light-headed and faint. A few nearby students were now looking at her just as Miss Ring - God, King, whatever! - had.

Hermione caught her breath again and let go of the desk. Surely he didn't know she was here, right? After all, she had not been at the staff table in the Great Hall. Maybe his students were just as nervous to tell him about her presence as they were to tell her about him.

She collapsed into her chair and hid her face behind her hands. Hermione could hear her own shaky breaths against the palms of her hands. Part of her reason for getting a quiet job here was because of him, to avoid him, and now he was here and she was hopeless.

No, she told herself, calm down. He couldn't have known. That was not his fault. But many, many other things were his fault, and that was why she felt dread pulse through her veins instead of blood. Would she have to see him?

Or would Hermione continue to play that game again - the game she'd been playing for three years in order to save herself from being hurt anymore - and avoid him?

. . . . .

"She works there, too?"

Harry nodded. His headache had intensified and was now becoming unbearable, but this was less because of the alcohol getting out of his system and more due to the fact that Hermione worked at Hogwarts as well.

He was more tired than ever; he had intended to catch a quick nap after his talk with McGonagall, but it became clear that he would not be falling asleep for a while now, because too many thoughts were racing about his head.

"Yes. She's the librarian," he said lowly.

"Are you sure McGonagall said it was her?" Ron stammered as he aimlessly paced the room. His eyes were full of disbelief. "I mean, not for nothing, but you're not really in a right state -"

"Yes, I'm sure," Harry said irritably. He ruffled his hair and sighed. "I know her name when I hear it, trust me."

Both of them were avoiding saying Hermione's name aloud. It was too painful to say it. They'd dealt with enough suffering from her absence.

"Well…" Ron began, sitting across from Harry for a few seconds before standing up again. "Are you going to work there, then?"

"You're the one who demanded that I get a job!" Harry exclaimed. His eyes were widening to saucers. "You said I was being a lazy arse and I had to get a job! Don't start going back -"

"Yeah, well, things have changed now," he said firmly. "I didn't know that she'd be there…. I mean, I suppose that you could just ignore her, couldn't you? You'll have to… she'll go mental if she sees you. I wonder if she knows you're there…."

"I'll have to ignore her, won't I?" Harry said. He pulled his legs in and hugged his knees. He felt stupid for doing this, because it was so childish, but at this moment, he felt childish. "I mean, you know what happened the last time I tried to talk to her."

"Yeah," Ron said quietly, putting his hands in his pockets.

Both men were silent for a few moments, strained expressions dominating their faces. Harry buried his face into his knees and wondered what the hell he had just gotten himself into. He took the job as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that morning without even giving it much thought. Ron had forced him to get off his arse and get a job. But Ron hadn't known that Hermione was already hired as the new librarian there… if he had known, he wouldn't have forced Harry to go through with this.

For a moment, Harry had thought that perhaps Ron would have demanded that Harry quit immediately and just forget it. After all, Harry had seen enough of Ron's moments after Hermione left; he may have matured, but it didn't stop him from getting out of control once in a while. There were some times when Ron looked ready to burst, about to say what was really on his mind, but he'd refrained… most of the time. Perhaps he wanted to live vicariously through his best friend on the off-chance that Harry would bump into Hermione.

Because if Harry was torn by Hermione leaving, he could not imagine how Ron could have felt. Hermione had actually admitted, in her tantrum that included breaking up with Ron and shortly leaving them, that Harry had always treated her better than Ron could ever wish to treat her, and that if she were to return to any of them she'd always choose Harry. She'd also told him to mature and that "maybe then, you'd be worthy of a woman's attention". Hearing the recollection of this from a distraught Ron three years ago, Harry thought that his best friend would also leave him. But Ron never talked about Hermione from that point on - until now, of course.

It seemed that Ron had not mentioned some things, because there were clear gaps in the story, but whatever Hermione said to him, it was enough to keep him from completely blaming Harry for being more respectful than him towards Hermione.

Somehow that made Harry feel even worse… he'd always tried to reconcile with Ron, telling him that he was worse to Hermione than Ron at many times (although really, Harry knew he was straight out lying to him, but it was to make him feel better). However his best friend always ignored him, and when Harry got really insistent, he'd just walk away and not be seen for days. But Ron was always there for him, especially when Harry got himself into a drunken mess and needed someone to lean on.

Hermione's departure had somehow matured Ron, making him realize that he needed to grow up if he was to be worthy of anyone's attention.

Harry only knew too well what it was like for someone he loved - as more than a friend - to leave him for good. Ginny had left him to travel around the world to play on the Holyhead Harpies. She gave him a choice, and he made the right one, he knew, but it still didn't make him feel any better. Their relationship had been heading downhill anyway… they were bound to break up eventually, but he wished it would have been more… traditional? He would've preferred a civil way of breaking it off than his girlfriend running away from him not too long after his best friend left. "I can see that you've made your decision," Ginny had said to him. He tried to explain to her that she made her own decision also, and he couldn't leave Teddy, his godson needed a father figure in his life, but she'd already turned around and Disapparated.

The two women that meant the world to him had left. Ginny was stubborn and preferred flying than being with him. Hermione just couldn't stand him and his treatment of her.

He hated himself.

Harry knew, immediately, that he would avoid Hermione. It would kill him inside and eat at whatever was left within him, and every single day he'd want to run to the library just to see her, but he knew that, right now, he wouldn't. Harry would resist the urge to go up to her and try to reconcile their relationship. But God, he missed her.

Harry had grown up for the first eleven years of his life wanting friends, wanting people that he could care about, and that aching had killed him inside as he'd lie there in the cupboard under the stairs. But now that he'd had Hermione as a friend and he did care about her - more than she would ever realize - this sort of ache was something he wasn't even sure what to compare to. He was burning with a need to fix all of this, to have Hermione back.

He kept dreaming about her, but he was sure that the face he remembered was different from what she looked like now. Maybe she was even prettier… or had her deletion from his life made her just as stressful as he was, and made her face a reflection of that stress? Would she look like a wreck? Did she also wake up screaming from nightmares? Was she surrounded by people but still so alone? Did she also reach for Firewhiskey once in a while as a side effect of an ever-growing depression? God, he hoped that she was stronger than that, he hoped that she wasn't making the same mistake that he did… he could deal with having his own issues but to imagine Hermione just as depressed as him made his heart ache.

No, she wasn't like that at all, he decided: she'd made the decision to leave. She was happy with this.

The only thing Harry wanted more than Hermione herself was her safety and her happiness, in that order. Without him, Hermione was safe as far as he'd heard, and she was probably happy, wasn't she? He would have to live with it.

The need to become her friend again was burning at his insides, eating away at every particle of his body. He wanted Hermione again… he would kill just for them to be on civil speaking terms, even if they couldn't be just friends.

This was what Hermione wanted. She'd left them. She was done with them and their treatment towards her. She was done being the one left out. Hermione had cut off all ties to them… according to Andromeda, Hermione even stopped by to spend time with Teddy only when she knew that Harry wasn't going to be there.

"What if you do see her? Like, by accident?" Ron asked in a small voice, breaking the silence between them.

Hermione's departure had been difficult for Ron. Sometimes Harry wondered Ron was not the one reaching for glasses of Firewhiskey into ungodly hours of the night. Even Ron had admitted that a relationship between them would not work… their differences set them too far apart and they were constantly bickering. It didn't make Ron appear to feel any better about it, though.

"I don't know," Harry admitted, talking to his knees and avoiding Ron's gaze. "I guess I'll just have to walk away before she freaks out and hexes me like last time, right?"

He heard Ron cough. "Yeah… yeah, best to avoid her." There was a tiny pause that was somehow excruciating despite how short it was, as their fears were all being laid out between them… they always avoided talking about Hermione. Maybe they'd talk about books, but no, that was too closely related to her. Maybe they'd talk about the D.A., but no, she had been involved in the D.A…. It was better to just not talk about what was killing them both. "She doesn't want anything to do with us."

Harry couldn't speak; he just nodded as the truth rolled into his ears and tortured him. There were a few more moments of silence and then he managed to say, "I better go and, er, plan my lessons…" He no longer wanted to talk about Hermione.

"Right," Ron said shortly, running his fingers through his vivid red hair. "Right, I'll leave you to that, then…."

Ron nodded, more to himself than to his friend, and then left Harry's flat, his head hung and his eyes blinking quickly.

Harry didn't get much sleep that night. His hand had half-twitched towards his refrigerator, but he shook the intentions away and locked himself in his room so that he wouldn't stumble into the kitchen without any second thoughts. And besides, when he'd returned from his interview with McGonagall, he saw Ron Summoning Firewhiskey, destroying it, and telling him that his abundant possession of Firewhiskey in his flat was out of control and that he should be ashamed of himself. It was only until Harry told him that Hermione worked at Hogwarts that Ron calmed down. In fact, Ron became almost too calm. He was too relaxed, most likely very lost in his own thoughts.

His dreams were filled of Hermione, wearing a beautiful wedding dress and running away from him, laughing right in his face. He was always too far away from her…. She spoke in an oddly high-pitched, sinister voice, telling him that he and Ron always treated her like the third wheel, and that she was just a person that did homework and Auror reports for them. He tried to apologize and tell her that she meant so much more than that, but she kept running away from him….

Harry woke up with cold sweat collecting around his hairline. He wiped it away and rolled out of bed. He somehow felt worse than he had when he woke up the previous morning, despite now being completely sober. Harry got ready that morning with a sluggish sort of temperament. He took his lesson plans with him and tried to grasp some sense of reality as he left his apartment and Apparated to Hogsmeade.

The walk to Hogwarts felt unusually short. His nerves were getting to him as he approached the front door. Filch opened the door for him and snarled, but let him into the castle all the same. He then stalked off and Harry made his way into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to set up before breakfast. The office was completely empty. He did not plan on imposing his personality on the room just yet; after all, if he were to impose his personality here, there would be bottles of Firewhiskey littering the floor and pictures of Hermione on his desk, smiling up at him from a time when she did not hate his guts.

He went down to breakfast in the Great Hall with a sickening feeling in his stomach. Would Hermione be there? Or had she already heard of his appointment as the newest staff member, and decided to avoid him? Maybe she didn't know yet…. How would she react if and when she saw him?

Harry, getting strange looks from students who were late and rushing into the Hall, peaked around the corner of the doorway. A quick glance at the staff table told him that Hermione wasn't present. It probably was not routine for the librarians to be at the staff table, but he wanted to be sure just in case. He walked into the Great Hall and was already past two House tables before people really started staring at him, craning their necks and pulling themselves up a few inches by grabbing their neighbor's shoulders for leverage.

Harry, used to stares from his own days at this school, ignored the whispers and murmurs of people around him and made his way up to the staff table. Hagrid waved at him genially and said, "Harry! Professor McGonagall told me yeh'd be here!"

Relieved that there was a familiar, kind face here, Harry returned his wave and walked straight up to him. It was nice to be reminded that there was a friendly, familiar face here.

"Hey, Hagrid," he said. "How've you been?"

"Alright, alright…." Hagrid said airily. "I haven't heard from yeh in ages, Harry!"

"Yes, well… I've been trying to stay under the radar."

"How's Teddy?"

"Oh, he's fine," Harry said happily. The thought of his godson always brought a smile to his face. "You should stop by at Andromeda's for dinner."

Before Hagrid could reply, they heard a sharp, unnatural cough coming from somewhere down the staff table. Harry turned his head and saw McGonagall beckoning him over.

"Talk to you later, Hagrid," Harry said, and he walked down the next few seats - saying a quick "hello" to some of his previous teachers who were still there - and took the empty seat beside McGonagall.

"I need to address the school," she told him briskly before he even got comfortable in his chair.

Harry nodded, and McGonagall stood up and cleared her throat. She still had a way of silencing a room full of students without much effort, for the buzzing in the Great Hall had died down at once. It didn't stop their staring at Harry, however.

"As you can see," McGonagall announced, "we have a new professor. Professor Potter -" Harry tried to suppress a laugh; Professor Potter? That would take some getting used to, "-will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. I hope that you'll all give him a warm welcome."

Students looked at each other excitedly, as though McGonagall had announced that Christmas had come early and they wouldn't have any homework assignments for the rest of the term. McGonagall sat down and began to eat her breakfast, and the students' talking immediately started up again, at an even louder volume this time. There was one universal tone of hunger possessing the student body: Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts.

"So, Potter," McGonagall said dismissively, turning to face him and taking his attention away from the students, "I can see that you haven't been talking to Miss Granger, or you wouldn't have been surprised when I told you yesterday that she'd been appointed as the new librarian. I don't want to know what happened and why you two are this way, but if this - whatever this is - will affect your job performance, it then becomes an issue of mine as well."

"It won't interfere with my performance, Professor," Harry told her at once. "Things have just been… complicated."

"I'm sorry to hear that." She really looked it. McGonagall had abandoned her meal and was now giving Harry her full attention. "I didn't know that you two were - I mean, if I had known that there was a rift between you two, I would have thought twice about admitting both of you to work here…. Not that you two aren't mature enough to handle this, but -"

"If anything, Professor, fire me," Harry said immediately. "Don't kick her out. Listen… none of this was Hermione's fault. She's a great person… I'm the reason that we aren't talking. I don't want you to think poorly of her."

McGonagall pursed her lips and gave him a quizzical look, then shook her head and sighed. "I wouldn't think poorly of Miss Granger," she said. "And I certainly hope that I wouldn't have to fire one of you… I expect both of you to act maturely about the situation."

"We will."

A half an hour later, a few students began to stand up from their seats and make their way to their first classes of the day. Following their lead, Harry stood up, said his farewell to McGonagall and Hagrid, and walked to his classroom…. God, it felt strange referring to that place as his classroom. Never, in a million years, had he thought he'd be teaching here….

"Good morning," Harry said several minutes later in front of a full class of fifth years. He somehow had the skill of holding the class's attention in complete silence, although he doubted much of this had to do with actual skill. Their fascination with his presence seemed to be enough of an answer.

"Good morning, Professor," some of the students called back, a few amongst them giggling from calling him "Professor."

"No need for textbooks. Wands out," he ordered.

Just like in the D.A., it felt odd to see people obeying his orders. A few students who had taken out their books hastily put them away. Everyone scrambled for their wands. Eager looks were on everyone's faces.

"We won't be doing too much from the textbook, except for when we're going over what you'll need to know for your O.W.L.s, of course," Harry told them. "I generally find that practical lessons are much more helpful than any theory you'll read."

"Hear, hear!" someone called out.

Harry smiled. "Right, then…. Today we'll be practicing Disarming Charms -"

A girl's hand shot into the air, and he immediately thought of Hermione. Trying to push the thought from his mind, he looked at the girl and said, "Yes?"

"Er, Professor," the girl said quietly, "is it true that you used the Disarming Charm against - against You-Know-Who?"

People who had been looking at the girl now snapped their heads around to witness Harry's reply.

"Yes," he said. "It's certainly proved itself useful. It's gotten me out of a lot of tight spots… so it's important that you master this. You can certainly get an advantage from Disarming your opponent. It will buy you at least a few seconds of time, by which you might already have another spell up your sleeve."

Talking to a group of students didn't seem nearly as bad as he'd thought. In fact, it was extremely easy to tell them all about how they should defend themselves… it felt like he was back at the D.A., teaching his classmates about this very subject. His nerves were ebbing away.

"Now, as you know, the incantation is Expelliarmus," Harry said. "Repeat after me -"

"Expelliarmus," the class repeated in unison. A couple of girls in the back of the room were whispering behind their hands and blushing.

"Good," he said. "Now, split up into pairs and try Disarming each other. I'll be walking around to make sure you're doing it right… and that you're doing it at all."

A few people laughed. The class obeyed him and divided into groups of two. Wands went flying. Harry helped students who were waving their wands the wrong way or muttering the incantation incorrectly.

"-she's really nice, you know -" the girl who had asked Harry about the Disarming Charm was now telling her friend.

Harry was quite a distance away, so the girls were unaware of him listening in. Clearly whatever they were talking about was not related to the assignment.

"I don't know, Mary, she seems so - so off," the other girl, a fellow Gryffindor, said. "I mean, you know what - what she did! The Prophet still talks about it to this day -"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Carly!" the girl named Mary said indignantly. "The Prophet is rubbish."

"The Prophet always holds some truth, even you know that. I'm not going to the library, not after what she did! I can't believe that Hermione Granger had the nerve to -"

"Whatever you two are doing, it's not Disarming," Harry interjected, walking towards them now. A few nearby students were poking their friends and nodding in his direction. He felt his defensive side taking him over. "Ten points from Gryffindor. I don't want to hear about any disrespect aimed towards staff members while you're in my classroom. If you have a problem with Miss Granger, then please, by all means, go and tell her yourself."

The girl named Carly looked at him with widened eyes as her friend gave her an I-told-you-so look.

"S-Sorry, Professor," Carly said in a small voice. "It won't happen again…."

"Good," he said firmly.

His actions had caused a ripple of whispers throughout the class. Harry had never meant to be that strict on the first day, but he would not tolerate anyone talking about Hermione like that. He deserved the whispers and the rumors, not her.

When there were a few minutes left until the bell - some students were now using Shield Charms against the Disarming Charm, and Harry made a mental note to have them perfect that as well - Harry told them to take their seats. He gave them the assignment to practice the Disarming Charm, warning them that he'd know if they had practiced or not. The class was dismissed by the bell, whispering amongst each other. Several students called back over their shoulders, "See you, Professor Potter!" It seemed like some of them had gained respect for him from ridiculing Carly.

Harry sat down behind his desk once the classroom was emptied of students. He sighed and ruffled his papers around the top of his desk aimlessly, not giving a shit how messy of a pile it was becoming. Would he have to be reminded of Hermione for the rest of the day, too? It was painful enough to know that she was here, and to want to run up to her and ask for her forgiveness, but now he was being reminded of her in his own classes.

Surely he'd run into her one day? They couldn't be stuck in the same castle and not somehow bump into each other…. Harry was dying to see her. Ron's words were whirling about his head, warning him not to approach her for the sake of his own safety, but Harry yearned to see her again, even one little glimpse of her. She'd become a figment of his imagination, just one huge, unattainable memory, and to see her would give him hope that they could work through this. Hermione had made it clear that she never wanted to see him again, but while they were in this castle, they were bound to meet up again… weren't they?

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