A/N: Okay I'm not entirely late so don't get your panties in a twist. I was a bit tied up yesterday and had to grind this chapter out from scratch, all the while being incredibly distracted by the internet and other tasks. But it's done now and that's all that matters! I hope you won't be mad at me for too long.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, blah blah blah.
Enjoy!
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Magique
Chapter 11: Perspective
There are moments in a person's life that make them truly look at themselves, into their very souls, and literally rip apart their own insides at the scene before them. Moments like these included seeing someone murdered, looking at what they truly desire in the Mirror of Erised, and finding out a great truth that had been previously hidden from their eyes.
Harry Potter was having one of these moments.
His eyes were filled to the brim with unshed tears and his stomach felt like it was about to spontaneously combust. He stood very still as his invisibility cloak slid off of his shoulders and looked at the spot where Hermione had just been, crying her eyes out because of him.
Because of him.
Ron looked at his friend and pressed his lips together. Harry stood before him as a broken man, no longer in control of his own emotions or self. Any shadow of his old persona was vacant from his features. In all truth, he looked as though he had just received the Dementor's kiss. The sight filled Ron with a mixture of great sadness, anger, and hopelessness.
After a few moments of heavy silence, Harry's eyes flickered to his red-haired friend and opened his mouth. It was dry and his voice sounded as though he had just swallowed a pint of sand. "How did you know?"
Ron looked into his lifeless green eyes and answered simply. "Your boots peeked out for a second while Hermione was crying into my shoulder."
Harry looked down and avoided his gaze.
"You really fucked her up, do you know that?"
Harry's neck snapped up at Ron's colorful language. Sure, Ron swore more than any other monarch he knew but the way he said it, like he was spitting at his feet, made Harry feel like he was scum. Worse than scum, even. No one else in the castle, the kingdom, had the guts to speak to him like that, except maybe Hermione when she was angry enough. And usually no one, not even his closest friends, did unless he had done something horrible - something unforgivable that would take a miracle to redeem.
Like breaking Hermione's heart.
A patch of tears escaped from Harry's eyes as what was left of his inner walls began to break. He spoke through them with a grainy voice. "I know."
"Then. Do. Something. About. It." Ron said, annunciating every word so that they dug into Harry's chest like knives. "And don't go around making excuses like you always do. You love her; it's always been her, even when we were together."
"Ron-Ë®
"SHUT UP!"
The pure power of his voice was enough to throw Harry back against the wall. Only by the sheer will of his rapidly waning mind did he stay level-footed. Harry silenced himself, knowing that if he muttered a single syllable, it could be the last thing he would remember until morning.
"You always told me that Hermione was special and that she needed to be protected." Ron began, his voice lowered significantly. "And I did that. I kept her away from you and the darkness that Voldemort brought. She stayed in my home for nearly a year while you were off hunting Horcruxes, nearly a walking corpse because she was worried so much. But then something changed and we weren't just friends anymore. We… we became lovers."
Harry was gob smacked. He had known that Ron and Hermione had been together briefly while he began to hunt Horcruxes. Hell, he had pushed the two of them together so that they would be safe. He had gotten as far away from them as he could before finally relenting and coming to terms with the fact that he needed them both with him. But never in his wildest dreams did he think that in his brief absence they had…
Oh gods.
"If you're trying to make me feel worse-Ë®
"I'm telling you the goddamned truth for once." Ron interrupted viciously. "Hermione made me swear that I wouldn't but now that you know more than you should it's only a matter of time before you know everything else. I'm just… I'm trying to make you understand."
"By telling me that you and Hermione slept together when I was in love with her?" Harry said, his voice rising in anger.
"Am." Ron said flippantly.
Harry stared at his friend with narrowed eyes. "What?"
"You're still in love with her you tosspot, and there's no use in denying it." Ron said, his face becoming hard with unreadable emotions. "Now can I finish talking or are you going to keep interrupting?"
"Just one question." Harry said. Ron nodded for him to continue. "What am I going to gain from all this?"
"Perspective." Ron said simply. He then walked over to him and bent down to pick up the discarded invisibility cloak. "Now come on. We'd best be sitting down for this."
Harry let Ron lead him all the way down to the library. When they arrived, he stopped in front of a large bookcase and pulled a few books from the shelf. "Now I know it's one of the tiny ones… aha!"
He yanked a small book with a green spine and brown engravings. With Ron's urgency, Harry expected the book to fly off the shelf. He was proved wrong when it simply folded down like he had just pulled a lever
"What-Ë® Harry began but was cut short by the bookcase being pushed inwards by an invisible force. It stopped a foot or so deep and slid to the left, revealing a hidden stone staircase that spiraled upwards. He looked at it with wide eyes.
Ron noticed Harry's sudden fascination with the hidden passage and grabbed his forearm firmly. Muttering a soft Lumos to light the way, he led the dazed prince up the steps and into the foreboding darkness. After a significant climb, there was an opening in the ceiling big enough for three brawny men to slide through. Ron eased himself up and onto what seemed to be a landing of some sort and helped Harry gain entry as well. It was pitch black but that soon changed when Ron flicked his wand and the light at the tip was distributed into lamps and candles that were dispersed randomly across the room.
It was clear they were in one of the many towers of Gryffindor castle. The floor was made of old wood but was not at the point of creaking and there was an ornate scarlet and gold rug that covered most of it. Three comfortable chairs faced each other in a half-circle on the left side of the room, each the same shade as the rug but with distinct gold patterns sewn onto them. The three windows that circled the tower were covered by velvet hangings, keeping the moonlight hidden from their sight. On the right side of the room was a small bookcase that barely reached to Harry's knees. On top of it were miniature paintings that Harry recognized from when the war had ended, one of his, Ron's, and Hermione's, profiles respectively, and one of the three of them together, smiling and waving enthusiastically.
Harry circled the room in a good minute, taking all of it in. It was small, yes, but very comforting and almost home-like. Someone had made a refuge of this hidden tower - a place even Harry himself had never ventured in his lifetime here. It made him slightly sad that he didn't know of this particular secret the castle had to offer, mostly because it was so beautiful.
Harry turned to Ron and asked in wonder. "Whose is this place?"
"That's another thing you need to understand." Ron said, gesturing to one of the chairs.
Harry walked over and looked at the chair and back at Ron. The redhead motioned at the chair meaningfully and Harry's gaze flickered back to it, getting down on his knees. It was then that he began taking in the details of what he first thought was a normal, comfy-looking seat. The golden stitching on it was not only ornate but incredibly detailed. It had pictures of books, flowers, potions, and other beautiful patterns stitched into the plush material. But the thing that struck him was the name that was stitched on the inside of the chair's left arm.
Hermione.
He looked back at Ron in shock. "It's Hermione's?"
"Not quite." Ron said. He circled around and tilted the chair across from him so that he could see the stitching on the inside of its left arm. It read: Ronald. But before Harry could say anything, Ron moved to the chair that was in the middle of these two and Harry's eyes followed him. He moved the chair slightly to the right and showed Harry the final name engraved on the chairs.
His own.
There, engraved in the exact same gold thread, was Harry.
He looked at Ron with shining eyes. He spoke in an even tone, though there was a fair share of emotion interlaced within it. "This was supposed to be your coronation present."
"My… my coronation present?"
Ron nodded and walked over to the chair that bore his name, sitting on it gingerly. Harry followed his lead and walked over to his own chair, taking a moment to admire the stitching of swords, lightning, and dragons before sitting down. Ron was looking at him pointedly and it took all the strength Harry had to not look away. He had already avoiding his gaze enough. It was time to face his fate and listen to what Ron had to say.
"It was Hermione's idea." He began. "This used to be her haven after the war when she found it during one of her all-nighters in the library. She would come here and read or just sit and look down at the kingdom as it was rebuilt, wanting solitude. She only told me about it because she thought you had too much on your plate to be bothered with such mundane things as this."
Harry bit his tongue, wanting to rebuke that statement. He always had time for Hermione.
Ron continued, not noticing Harry's discomfort. "Then one day about two years ago she came to me with the idea to turn this place into a room for just the three of us. A place we could meet and be together after you were made king. She thought that with all your new duties you would find little alone time, not to mention any time to spend with us. So she came up with the idea to create this tower so that we could be together, just us, no disturbances."
"Wow." Harry said, flabbergasted. "But… why are you showing it to me now? I don't get crowned for another few months. It sort of ruins the surprise, doesn't it?"
Ron shrugged. "After tonight, I doubt that Hermione will ever get the courage to show it to you. She has it in her mind that you don't need her anymore."
"That's not true!" Harry refuted.
"Well you haven't done much to prove that, have you?" Ron asked in a mocking tone.
Harry frowned. "If you're talking about Clara-Ë®
"It's not just about Clara, Harry." Ron said hotly. "Hermione has been fighting for you longer than you realize and you've taken her for granted. As soon as the war was over you simply stopped caring enough to realize that. There was a time where you two were inseparable but then something broke you apart. Hermione stopped trying after that but never gave up hope. She's too damn stubborn for that, even if it caused her pain. And now, years later, Clara is just the small push Hermione needed to stop hoping that you would come around."
Harry's face was blank, devoid of all emotion. Not because he wasn't feeling anything, but because he was feeling too much, like a color scheme - when all the colors are intermixed with each other they become white, creating the illusion of something blank. The same could be said for Harry's state of mind. Inside he was feeling a mixture of emotions consisting of bad, good, and others that cannot be defined by words. Outside, his expression was blank as all the emotions flooded through him.
"Don't you get it, Harry?" Ron said, taking his silence as indifference. "You ripped the last bit of hope she had into shreds."
"I get it." Harry snapped. "I just… I can't… Merlin, I love her. I love her so much." He paused. "But that's the problem. It made her a target back in the war so I asked you to keep her safe and away from me. And after that, when it was all over, she seemed so broken and damaged from when Riddle got his slimy claws into her. So I stopped trying to place myself next to her, knowing that she was better off without me, anyway. Safe. I never stopped caring but trying to show her that just seemed too dangerous." He sighed. "I know I made a mistake but back then, the last thing I wanted to do was burden her with the responsibilities of queen."
"You… you wanted her to be your queen?" Ron asked, bewildered.
"Of course I did - do - I mean, I don't know!" Harry threw up his hands in frustration.
"Why the bloody hell didn't you say something?"
"I wanted to, more than anything." Harry admitted. "But I just couldn't. I thought I was protecting her."
"Protecting her," scoffed Ron. "That girl would give her life for you if she had the choice. Even… even when we were together those few weeks it was always you and I knew that. We both knew that. But we were all each other had. I even made the mistake of falling for her after a while." He laughed to himself. "But as soon as you came back, you were all she could talk about. It was a brief fancy but it was still there. I pity any guy who has tried to be with her since then. No one can compare to you in her eyes."
Harry felt tears well up once more and bowed his head. Hermione had been his all this time, even after he had given up and practically forced her to move on. She never had. And now he had just thrown any hope that remained in her because of his stupid decision to listen to her - to accept her push to move on. How could he have been so naïve?
The nights they had been spending together - how could he have not seen it? She needed him, no matter how much she wanted him to think otherwise. Because, the truth of the matter was, he needed her, too. They needed each other. It was pointless to argue otherwise. No Ravenclaw Lady or anything else was going to get in the way of that.
He looked back up at Ron, whose gaze had never left him. He spoke roughly. "I'm going to win her back, Ron."
Ron continued to stare at him with a blank expression. "For real this time? No games or chivalry?"
"Chivalry be damned." Harry cursed.
~*~
After talking for the better part of an hour, the two wizards decided to call it a night. They exited the secret passageway together and walked to their respective chambers, both in a better mood than when they had entered. Harry especially had a wide grin plastered on his face.
Tomorrow, he thought, tomorrow is going to change everything.
The figure in the shadows had to agree with the young prince's thoughts, but for a much different reason. Quietly, Elizabeth sniggered to herself and began to clean up her books that she found during the time that Harry and Ron had disappeared.
When she stumbled upon Ron and Hermione embracing outside Hermione's chambers, she thought she finally had luck on her side. Unfortunately, as the rest of the scene unfolded in front of her eyes, she found that the situation was worse than she originally thought. The Prince and the Muggleborn were in love and if she didn't do something soon, her plans would be foiled. She had thought she would have another few days, at least, to come up with a proper way to dispose of the Granger girl. But now it was clear that she had to think fast.
She followed Harry and Ron to the library but stopped short when she realized that she had a vast amount of resources right in front of her eyes. Leaving the two boys to converse for the next few hours, she set about researching. By the time she heard them making their way out of the library, she had come up with an ingenious plan, if she did say so herself.
As the night progressed into early morning, Elizabeth began initiating her plan. If she did this right, Granger would be gone by that evening. The thought made the Ravenclaw shiver with delight.
And, with her stride as determined as her mindset, she entered Harry's chambers.
~*~
Hermione woke up to a knocking on her door. She rolled over onto her back and groaned. She had barely slept a wink, though it wasn't a big surprise. Another nightmare had plagued her that night. It wasn't a memory, this time, but a scene that could only reside in her deepest fears: Harry and Clara's wedding.
She had woken up in a fit of tears and hadn't been able to sleep soundly since, maybe ten minutes every three hours. She supposed she should get used to it. Without Harry, she would rarely sleep at all. A selfish part of her wanted to run to his chambers and take back everything she said. But the reasonable, less rash, part of herself reminded her that it was for Harry's own good. She had to get used to not relying on him for everything.
She had to get used to being in love with him when really, she stood no chance.
The knocking continued and this time and Hermione was awake enough to subconsciously count the knocks. Three.
Harry was making it increasingly difficult to live without him.
Sighing, she threw off her covers and grabbed a lace wrap to throw over her chemise. She padded slowly over to her door and opened it. He greeted her with his hands clutched behind his back and a winning smile. She looked at him tiredly, wondering what had him so peppy this morning.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
"Of course." She said, opening the door wider to let him inside.
When she shut the door behind him, he was already looking at her canopy, which had sheets and blankets thrown all over the place. He turned back to her, his face set in a frown. "Rough night?"
She shrugged and crossed her arms across her chest. "What do you want?"
"I've just… well, I've been thinking." He started, fiddling with his hands, something he only did when he was incredibly nervous. "I don't want you to have nightmares."
She sighed, untangling her arms and letting them dangle helplessly at her side. "I told you that I can't ask that of you anymore."
"Yes," He agreed. "But what if I'm asking it of you?"
Her brow furrowed with sudden confusion. "Pardon?"
He took a step forward. "Hermione I can't stand to see you like this, making sacrifices you don't need to make. Let me help you."
"No." Hermione said. "Merlin, Harry, I already explained to you why we couldn't be like that anymore."
"That you did." He said, nodding. "You also said that I am free to do what I want with who I want."
"That's not what I m-Ë®
"Then I told you that the person I desired is unattainable." He took a step forward. "And I never told you who it was."
Hermione remembered that moment vividly. She had asked who was on his mind after he denied that it was Clara. He ignored her and began to say something else. Something that flared up the little hope she had left in her chest. But then the announcement for dinner had been made and the moment was lost. For a second, she had thought he was going to say that she looked beautiful, the same compliment he paid her before their last kiss.
Her hopes had been permanently shattered after Harry stayed glued to Clara's side the rest of the evening.
"No." She said shakily. "You didn't."
He inhaled a deep breath before continuing. "Hermione I've been keeping a secret from you for quite some time now."
"Oh?" Hermione said, her heartbeat increasing significantly.
He nodded. "On the night of the first Freedom Ball, I was drunk. Really drunk. The next morning I told you the entire night was a blur and that I couldn't remember a thing." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "Well, I lied. I remember everything from that night."
"Everything?" Hermione whispered.
"Everything." He confirmed.
Her face paled and reddened all in the space of ten seconds. "Why are you telling me this?"
"I felt you deserved to know." He answered simply.
"Why is it important now?" She asked, trying to keep a level head. "It's all in the past."
He sighed and looked at her, his eyes boring holes into her soul. She felt goose bumps arise on her arms from the intensity of it. "I thought that if I told you that secret then maybe I would have the guts to say something else."
Hermione raised her eyebrows at this. "Another secret?"
"Of sorts." He said while shuffling from one foot to the other, though Hermione couldn't tell if it was from nervousness or if he was just antsy. "But you have to tell me a secret first."
Her puzzled expression never left her face. "What makes you think I have secrets?"
He put on an innocent face and shrugged. "Everyone has secrets."
"What makes you think I want to know your secrets?" She rephrased, keeping her face impassive.
"I know you." He said simply. "You have an unnatural thirst for knowledge." Hermione frowned. "And, up until a few moments ago, you thought you knew everything about me and now that that's changed, you're itching to know what I've been hiding."
Her frown deepened. He was right. It pained her to think that she didn't know him through and through. But the only secret she had been keeping from him was the same one that she had been keeping from herself until last night. She couldn't tell him that! It would ruin everything.
He saw the conflict in her eyes and took a few steps closer. Hermione stiffened and looked up at him to see him staring at her curiously.
"I don't have any secrets." She said unconvincingly.
"Liar."
She huffed out an annoyed breath. "Well, I don't have to tell you anything. You and your secret can go to Timbuktu for all I care."
She turned around, hands crossing about her chest once more. He was being absolutely incorrigible. How dare he come in here, telling her that he remembered every detail about their last kiss! How dare he tell her he had another secret that she didn't know about! How dare he ask for a secret in return!
It was juvenile, rude, and altogether infuriating.
There was a poignant silence between them and Hermione thought she had made her point. She was soon proved wrong when she heard Harry's soft footsteps close in behind her back. Before she could turn around and yell at him, he placed both his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to whisper in your ear.
"Are you sure you don't have any secrets you want to tell me?"
She gathered her strength and spun around, Harry's hands falling to her waist in the change. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him, but softened when she saw that his eyes were no longer mischievous. They were almost sad looking.
"None that I can tell you." She answered.
"You can't or you won't?" He asked.
"I… shouldn't." She said, avoiding his gaze.
He caught her cheek in the palm of his hand before he lost sight of her face entirely. He guided it up softly and forced her eyes to meet his. She began to shiver at the power she felt in his gaze.
"Please." He spoke just above a whisper. "Tell me."
"I…" She began, but faltered. What could she say? "I…"
He sighed heavily and cursed under his breath. "Oh, to hell with it!"
Before she knew what was happening, he closed the small distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. She was nearly knocked backwards by the force of it and was only still standing because of Harry's hand that circled her waist. All she could do was stand there and return the kiss with equal ferocity, unable to move, unable to think straight.
The kiss ended soon after it had begun, but they were both winded as they pulled away. Hermione's eyes opened dazedly and looked at Harry with a mixture of puzzlement and wonder. Her thoughts were all in a jumble and because of this she said the first thing that came to mind without any filter.
"Oh, wow."
Harry chuckled deeply.
She regained some of her composure as Harry removed his hand from her cheek and moved it back to her waist. She blinked a few times before speaking again. "Was that your secret?"
He smiled and opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a loud BANG that erupted behind them. They both stiffened and looked around to the door, which was shaking violently in time with the loud noises. The pair disentangled themselves right before it blew off the hinges and headed straight toward them. Before it could make impact, Harry jumped in front of Hermione with his quick reflexes and reached for his wand. He conjured a shield around them just as the wood reached them. It smashed against the spell a moment later and broke into a manifold of shards that spread all around the area of the shield. When the last of the wood fell to the ground, Harry dropped the shield and made an attempt to look through the thin layer of dust that had accumulated in the door's wake, Hermione coming to stand at his side.
After a short silence, the sound of heavy footfalls echoed through the chamber just before a handful of Gryffindor guards erupted from the fog. The guards stopped in front of the couple just as Harry gathered himself and tried to handle the situation calmly.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
Tried being the key word.
"Sorry, your highness, king's orders." A guard spoke up.
"The king?!" Harry asked in shock. "I highly doubt he would give you orders to blow up the door to Lady Hermione's private chambers!"
"Certain measurements had to be taken, your highness." Another guard answered calmly.
"Measurements for what, exactly?" Harry asked.
The guards ignored his inquiry. Two of them stepped forward and grabbed Hermione viciously as a guard toward the middle spoke in an authoritative voice. "Hermione Granger, you are under arrest for the use of illegal magic against his royal highness, Prince Harry, in the form of a love enchantment."
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