He sat in the lone chair. Black robes. Stony expression. He was so still she wasn't even sure he was real until he got up and moved towards her. He was taller, and broader, but his green eyes still shined bright behind his glasses.
The blood was pounding so loudly in her head she was unaware she had gasped his name. Throat clogging with tears as her eyes blurred, not wanting to allow herself to believe what she was seeing.
Her knees felt weak, and between the shock of seeing him again and her healing charm wearing off, her right leg chose then to give out on her.
She would have hit the floor if he hadn't caught her by the elbows. Her breath hitched at the contact and she shut her eyes tight in an attempt to center herself.
He guided her to the edge of the bed and helped her sit and when she opened her eyes again he was kneeling in front of her.
He didn't look so hard now. Looking down at him, he looked like the Harry she remembered, slightly sheepish, and worried about what she was going to say.
"I'm sorry." he whispered so softly she almost didn't hear him and then bowed his head to await her reaction.
She swallowed heavily, realizing that in four years these were the only words he had spoken to her. They were the last words she had heard him say in England and the first ones she had heard him say here. And as he waited her hand came up as if from it's own volition and fell gently on the back of his head.
She felt him shudder and then she was stroking the dark locks, watching her hand as if it was no longer attached to her, because she never would have expected to find Harry Potter in her room on this night.
As she touched him her breath began to even out. She let her hand ghost over the side of his face, fingers brushing the familiar metal frames until she cupped his cheek. Two strokes of her thumb and then she pulled up gently until he raised his head and met her eyes again.
"Hello." she said, no more than a whisper.
"Hello." he replied, hope starting to reach his eyes.
"You're really here?" eyes watering once again. She had imagined this day so many times.
"I'm here."
And then before she can stop herself she launches towards him. "Oh, Harry!" she exclaims, wrapping both arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.
He catches her on reflex, and maybe muscle memory, and barely keeps them from tipping over backwards.
"I've missed you. I've missed you so much." she whispers fiercely and feels his hold on her get tighter.
Eventually she feels his hands in her hair and rubbing her back and they both shake when he lets out a shuddering breath.
She holds him forever it seems, not caring that she's getting him wet. He still smells like Harry and feels like Harry, and it's been so long.
She pulls back a little so she can look at him, her hands on their own mission to touch him everywhere. Rememorize.
"Where have you been?" she asks, not expecting an answer. "Where have you been, Harry." she repeats, her hand trailing over his jaw noticing a new scar on his chin. And then her own question resonates with her and suddenly she's furious.
She wrenches away from him and staggers to her feet. "Where in the hell have you been!" she yells. He hasn't moved. "Where did you go? I looked for you for almost a year! I put everything on hold to find you, but you just disappeared!"
He still isn't looking at her and then suddenly he's standing in front of her. A head taller than her now. But he still hasn't said anything, which is just making her more angry.
"It's been four years!" she roars "I didn't know if you were alive or dead." she chokes on the last word and has to turn away.
She hears him try and start a sentence and she whirls back "No! I don't want to hear it. There is nothing you could say that could make this o.k. Nothing." she stalks to the window unable to look at him.
She's never been more unsure of anything before in her life. She is so incredibly angry at him, and at the same time completely overjoyed he was there, in front of her.
The anger was easier to focus on, it had been simmering just below the surface for the past four years.
"I know you were hurting, and messed up, and needed time, but so was I. I searched for you long after everyone else told me to stop. I kept looking, because I needed to. And all around me everything and everyone was being fixed, but I couldn't worry about fixing me then because I had to find you. Except I couldn't find you because you didn't want to be found."
He hadn't moved from where she left him, but she knew he was listening.
"And then there came a day when I had tracked down another dead end and I just knew. I knew that I wasn't finding you because you didn't want me to. And that's when I gave up." she knew she sounded bitter and dejected and a part of her hoped that stung him because she had never given up on anything else in her entire life and he had made her give up on the one thing she never thought she could ever give up on.
He took a step back at that and she knew he understood.
"Harry Potter made me give up on Harry Potter." she said with a dark laugh, "It's kind of meta if you think about it."
Never, in all these years had she ever really admitted to herself what she had done and why she had to leave. She had to get away because staying in England would mean constant reminders of what had happened and how she had failed. She wouldn't have been able to handle the stares and the questions. `Surely if anyone could find Harry Potter it would be Hermione Granger.' Surely not, she scoffed to herself.
She was ashamed.
Ron had told her over and over again `He'll come back when he's ready."
Well what about her. Where did it leave her. Was she expected to be put in perpetual stasis until he decided it was time to come back. She couldn't move forward until he was at her side and until that happened she was stuck. And then she had realized it was what she deserved.
So she made what they called a `lateral move' in the muggle world and she slid sideways into university. Waiting.
It was her penance. Her way of paying back the universe for doing the only thing she said she would never do.
"Is four years enough?" she asked him, tears threatening once again "Is it enough atonement for what I did? Because if you come back and then leave again I don't think..." she broke off on a sob, wrapping her arms around herself for support. Her head was so light then she didn't know how she was staying upright. "I don't think I'd survive it." and then she was falling apart.
He caught her as she fell, at least she assumed he did because the next thing she knew she was sitting in his lap as he leaned back against the side of the bed and he was stroking her hair and saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." over and over again.
She reached up a tentative hand and he surprised her by grabbing it and pressing it to his cheek. The next time he repeated his mantra she shushed him gently.
"Gods `Mione." he almost sobbed and her heart clenched at the sound of him using her nickname, she never thought she'd hear it again. "I want to tell you. I will tell you. But I just can't right now."
She unconsciously tried to pull back, but he held her tighter "I know I don't deserve that from you, but I hope that you'll understand. I hope you can forgive me."
She was silent for a long time "Can you at least tell me one thing?" and she watched him swallow audibly before he nodded his consent. "Did you miss me?" she asked brokenly, hating how small she sounded.
He stopped breathing for a moment and then her face was pressed into his neck as he clutched her to his chest "Every day." he murmured "Every damn day. Don't ever doubt that." and he said it so fervently that she could do nothing but believe him.
They stayed like that until she felt like she could look at him without bursting into tears, and then she sat up slowly and gave him a small smile before climbing unsteadily to her feet using the bed as leverage, trying not to wince as her leg smarted in protest.
When she was once again seated he stood in front of her, looking entirely awkward and ill at ease and she simultaneously wanted to make him feel better and be glad that he was feeling so miserable.
She ran a hand through her hair and took a ragged breath and then he was grasping her hand in his and turning it into the light.
"What is this?" he asks roughly, looking at the band on her left hand. "Did you...I didn't think...I mean you could have..." he trails off, clearly affected by what he's seen.
"It's just a ring." she said wearily, not knowing if she has enough strength to explain that as well.
"It's not..."he starts, still holding her hand, still staring at the ring. "It's not from..."
"No Harry." she says softly, taking pity on him "It was just...easier."
"Easier?" he parrots, not understanding.
"When I first moved here someone asked if I had anyone, had a guy, and I reacted...poorly. Before I knew what I was doing I said I had one, but I lost him in the war." she gave him a sad smile "They didn't ask which war and I didn't tell. They just assumed he was... that you, were dead, and I let them think it. Not long after that I bought the ring." she tried to shrug it off, like it wasn't a big deal but the look he leveled her with let her know he wasn't going to allow that.
"I told myself I bought it because it fit the story, the `grieving young war widow'." and she sees him visibly flinch at her words. "But really...I really bought it because it's how a felt. I did feel like that, like you were dead, whether you really were or not, I had lost you in the war. In my life you were gone. So the ring reminded me of you, and of what we had, before the war."
The look he was giving her now was so intense she couldn't have looked away if she had tried. "And what about during the war?" he asked, knowing she would know exactly what he was talking about.
"It reminded me of that as well." she admitted and it was a long time before he broke her gaze.
"So, if you can't tell me where you've been can you tell me why you're here now? Is it in an official capacity?" she asked, gesturing towards the robes he wore that obviously belonged to an auror.
He looked surprised for a moment and then gave a rueful shake of his head. "I should have known I couldn't get anything past you."
She was tempted to make a snarky reply regarding the four years he had been evading her but she chose to hold her tongue.
"Yes, I'm an Auror, but not in the way you're familiar with. I'm more on an as needed/where needed basis. That's all I can say right now." he said apologetically
She nodded her acknowledgment of his unspoken request to not press for more information.
"Are you here because of what happened to Ron?" her voice was thin and strained, she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he had to say.
He scrubbed a hand over his tired face before answering "Unfortunately, yes, I believe so."
Her eyes shut for a moment "Have you seen him? How is he? The only thing I've read was in one horribly short article from a three day old Prophet. I have no idea what's going on." she had gotten more frantic as she spoke, the reality that one of her best friends may be grievously injured finally hitting home.
He knelt in front of her and clasped her hands in his "Hey, calm down. I'll explain everything I know." he waited until she nodded once and gripped his hands tightly "I only heard about Ron yesterday and headed back to London as soon as I could. He's woken up twice since the article you read, and the healers think he'll make a full recovery, it's just going to take some time." she let out a sigh of relief and blinked furiously to clear her watery eyes.
"That's good news. Very good news."
He smiled in response and squeezed her hands again. "Now, can you tell me what's been going on here? Everyone thought the attack on Ron was an isolated event but your owl to Mr. Weasley this morning changed all that."
"If they thought it was isolated why were you called in?" she asked
"Mr. Weasley knows about my...situation. Things were looking bad for Ron and he requested that they send for me. By the time I was found and I arranged to come back he was improving." Harry explained.
"Oh." she said, trying not to let the hurt show that no one had contacted her.
"Hey." he said, lightly turning her head back towards him "Ron was the only one who knew where you were. They searched his flat but couldn't find anything."
"So, you said no one knew anything until I sent the owl?"
"When Mr. Weasley got it he thought something seemed off. I had arrived about an hour earlier and he showed it to me. `Am fine for now.' That seemed like maybe things hadn't been fine and you didn't expect them to stay fine. And since we then had an owl we knew where you were. I tied up a few loose ends and apparated here. It wasn't hard to find your room, I just walked around until I discovered the one with the most complicated wards."
She shook her head at him and tried not to smile, she was still mad at him.
"Can you tell me what's been going on? How you got hurt?" his hand came up and brushed gently across the scrapes on her cheek and she felt her breath catch.
"I'm not really hurt."
He just leveled her with a look "I'm not. I swear. It's healing fine on it's own."
"You can say whatever you want, but don't think I'm not looking at that leg when we're done here." he said seriously
"My leg is fine." she retorted, annoyed that he saw how much it was hurting her.
"Didn't look fine when it gave out on you earlier." he countered smugly since he knew he was right.
"Fine." she conceded
"Now, what's been going on?"
She told him everything. From the pain in her scars that night in the alley to the carving in her door to the attack on the road.
"I got here yesterday and I haven't had that feeling of being watched." she admitted, and gave an involuntary shudder at the memory. "No one seems to know who I am here."
"You never got a good look at the person who attacked you?"
"No. In fact I never really saw anything, just the spells going by. Whoever they were they stayed far enough back and in the trees so that I couldn't make them out."
"Did you recognize the casting?" oftentimes certain wizards would become known for sticking with a specific repertoire of spells.
"No, it was all non verbal of course and other than the one that blew the side out of tree and the one that grazed my leg I was lucky enough to not get directly hit with one."
"And they didn't get into your flat?" he had stood up and was pacing in the small space in front of her now. She was reminded of how he would sometimes do the same thing in the common room while trying to work out what to write for an essay.
"Your flat `Mione?" he asked again, taking her from her memory
"Oh, sorry. Um, no they didn't get in. Same wards as here. They tried, I could feel that they had attempted to bring them down, but they weren't successful."
"Not many people can get through your wards." he said, pride in his voice
"That's the point of wards." she replied, sounding harder than she intended and she saw him flinch.
"No. Harry. I didn't mean..." she cut herself off and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and sighed deeply before trying again. "I'm glad you got through my wards."
He gave her a weak smile and then gave her hands a tug. "How about we fix that leg of yours."
She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could he barely pressed a finger over the wound and she saw stars. "Don't say it's fine." he stated and helped her scoot back to the head of the bed.
"You play dirty Potter." she ground out, her leg throbbing now.
"Whatever works." he admitted.
She realized the problem before he did and made the decision that it wasn't something he hadn't seen before so she shouldn't be embarrassed.
She was undoing her belt when it seemed to dawn on him that she'd need to take her pants off for him to see the burn. He flushed red and cleared his throat before he turned away slightly under the guise of removing his robes.
Underneath he was wearing a blue button down and dark jeans that suited him. By the time he was through rummaging in the pockets of his robes she had divested herself of her pants and was propped against the pillows. The long sleeved tee she was wearing covered her for the most part and she met his eyes with a challenge to see if he was going to make a deal out of this.
She wasn't sure how they stood on that subject. It had only happened once and right after that everything had been so fast. Snatchers and the Malfoy house and Bellatrix and Dobby and breaking in and out of Gringotts and the final battle. There hadn't been a moment to breathe much less talk about it and then he was gone. Sometimes she wondered if she had imagined it. But then tonight she'd seen the flash in his eyes and she knew he remembered.
She shook her head quickly, needing to get those thoughts out of her head and bent sideways to look at her thigh.
"See, it's not that bad." she repeated. "Looks better than it did this morning." she says with self confidence.
"Let me look. I had to learn a fair bit about healing in auror training."
She sat back, and watched as he dug through a pack he had pulled out of his robes and then enlarged, it seemed to be filled with potion vials and tubes.
He knelt next to the bed and laid one hand on her leg above the wound while he used his wand to cast a diagnostic spell.
She felt her stomach flip at his touch and she hoped he wouldn't detect the increase in her heart rate.
His eyes grew dark and he dropped his wand harshly on the bed before turning to his kit.
"What was it?" she asked softly
"Severing charm" he answered in a short clipped tone
She was lucky then. If it had been a direct hit she could have lost her leg or bled to death before anyone found her.
"Oh." she said shakily and ran a hand down his arm, not missing how tense he was.
He turned back and handed her a potion. "Drink" he directed and she swallowed it down obediently, grimacing at the taste but immediately feeling the throbbing begin to stop.
"Better?"
"Much. Thank you."
He didn't answer, just picked out a jar and scooped a fair amount of salve onto his fingers. She hissed when he applied it, her hand clutching a handful of his shirt.
"Shh, just give it a second." and sure enough it was soon blessedly numb. The majority of the redness began to fade and she relaxed back into the pillows, letting go of the death grip she had on his shirt but not removing her hand.
She let her other hand rest across her forehead and let her eyes fall shut as he finished up. There was clanking of bottles and some ripping noises but she was so tired she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes.
A shot of something she didn't want to address went through her when he began taping a gauze square to her leg and one of his hands trailed dangerously high while making sure it was secure.
She knew he couldn't have missed her reaction and she dared peek through her lashes to see him busily packing his kit back up, her hand falling from his arm as he stood to move his things out of the way.
She chided herself for her reaction. There was every chance he didn't feel that way about her anymore, or that he didn't ever really feel like that about her in the first place and that night was only about what was needed in the moment.
She had rehashed all of these thoughts a million times in her head but that had done nothing to prepare her for the reality of what it would mean when she saw him face to face again.
She wanted to talk to him, but she was drained right then, mentally and physically and as much as she wanted to stay awake and make sure he wasn't going to disappear in the middle of the night she could feel herself starting to drift off.
Something soft was placed over her and she opened one eye with some effort to see him tucking his robes around her.
"Did you put something in that potion?" she asked slowly, hating how off she sounded.
"You need to rest." was his reply and she saw him making his way back to the chair, clearly intending to stay there.
"Don't" she said "C'mere." reaching one hand limply towards him and did her best to scoot to her left and make room.
He hesitated, clearly torn between what he wanted and what he thought he should do.
She could feel herself getting sleepier by the second and she desperately needed him near her, partly for comfort, but mostly so that she could insure he wouldn't run again.
Her breathing got deeper and she fought sleep with everything she had when she felt the bed dip next to her as he climbed in.
"Safe here?" she murmured, barely able to speak, and then she felt a hand stroke through her hair and over her shoulder "We're safe. Your wards are good. We'll figure out where we're going in the morning."
She hummed her approval before turning towards him slightly, bringing her right arm up to grab clumsily at his hand and dragging it over her stomach, anchoring him to her.
"Don't leave."
"Never again." he promised and the last thing she was aware of was his lips brushing across her temple.