Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and quickly came into focus. They were currently lying on the single bed of Hermione's apartment, and from the numbness in her neck, she'd evidently been using Harry's chest as a pillow. Since it was the holidays, and no one would be around, Hermione sank back and took advantage of the time she'd have - pretending everything was fine. As if to disrupt her fantasy, the body behind her shifted and let out a whimper. Hermione sighed, and tried to sit up. 'It's ok.' she began reassuring as the boy's tears began. He latched onto her, his face resting in her arms as she ran her hands through her hair. Harry started sadly 'I'm sorry 'Mione, I'm so-'
'Harry,' Hermione insisted forcefully 'it's not your fault. It's never been your fault.'
Harry shook his head and cried for a bit longer. Hermione wanted to cry with him but she needed to stay strong, and she had been for the past year; she hated seeing him deteriorate like this, how his self-confidence became replaced with self-loathing and blame. After the war, everyone promptly forgot about him and mourned the lost - as did Harry. Using her savings, Hermione began to rent this small apartment above the Leaky Cauldron and she alone cared for him. Harry was fine at first - the defeat of Voldemort created a short-lasting sense of relief, revenge and completion. 'But that's just the problem.' Hermione remembered telling Ron on his last visit. It was the numerous funerals that followed that started to break him; Fred's, Remus' and Tonks', even Colin Creevy's put guilty ideas in Harry's head. 'I'm so sorry,' he would apologise to the families of the dead - even the Weasleys, who had no hard feelings at all for him, only love. 'Love,' Hermione scoffed bitterly in her train of thought, 'the thing Harry needs right now but no one can be bothered to give it to him.' She hugged Harry tighter, to let him know she was there. For the past year, Harry had moved into denial; reliving experiences from his lacking childhood in order to 'suppress his self-blame', as Madam Pomfrey had first put it. Some days were better than others - Hermione spent weeks getting this new Harry to trust her, assuring him that she didn't ever want to leave him malnourished in a cupboard under the stairs. At first he had stopped talking completely, and when he did old conversations would slip out. Ron's visits were once the only times he smiled, albeit a small, broken one. Ron would joke around, play with him, bring take out to eat - and Harry loved it. 'I've never had chips before,' he'd say excitedly, 'Uncle Vernon says I don't deserve them...'
'Of course you do, every single one is just for you!' Ron would say jovially, like nothing was wrong. Though Hermione wasn't as ignorant - everything was wrong. As Harry would nod childishly, Ron would ruffle his hair. With Ron around, Hermione could get some time to be vulnerable. Only Hermione's touch could calm the sadness, anger and fear that had become bottled up in the fragile mind of the Wizarding World's hero: looking after him was a full time job.
Once Harry had calmed down, Hermione took his hand and led him to the bathroom, where she promptly filled the bathtub with hot water. Once it was full, Hermione motioned for him to get in, and he slowly removed his own clothes (Hermione always helped him to pull off his shirt) and sat in, initially hissing at the biting heat but saying nothing. Hermione had felt particularly disgusted when a broken Harry had fearfully whispered to her once, 'Aunt Petunia's not in there with the hose, is she?'
'No, never.' Hermione had replied, a tear rolling down her cheek. Of all the years she'd known him, Hermione had never realised how abused Harry was. While Harry splashed around, pulling his knees to his chest, Hermione grabbed a bottle of shampoo and began working on Harry's hair. It was comforting, the smells of citrus and nature that Harry had always used. Hermione gently cleansed his head, and today came without protest. On bad days - Hermione noted that it had been two weeks since his last one - Harry would beg and scream, pleading 'I'll be good, I swear!'
'Harry, it's alright,' Hermione would say automatically, 'don't you trust me?' Harry would always stop at those words, and follow her every notion - 'He loves me, of course he trusts me.' As she rinsed his black hair Hermione realised how lucky she was, that Harry would never question or argue.
The luxury of peace could not be said for others; on one of Ron's particular visits, Harry was reliving the days spent on the run. As they sat in silence in front of the fire, Harry mumbled 'What's the problem?'
'Harry?' Hermione had queried, as Ron looked on with concern.
'Well, you've obviously got a problem,' he continued, a sadness in his voice. 'Spit it out will you?'
'Harry, are you ok mate?' asked Ron worriedly, having never stayed long enough to see Harry have an episode. Harry looked up at Ron, then to Hermione, and then to the floor. Hauntingly, he spoke 'I thought you knew what you signed up for.' Immediately, Ron tensed up and Hermione brought her hands to her temple. 'Did you think we'd be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a horcrux every other day? Did you think you'd be back to Mummy by Christmas?' It was then that Ron became angry, and in a moment all he could see was red. Harry yelled to the ground 'So why are you still here-'
'Ron!' Hermione shouted, as Ron punched Harry firmly in the jaw, sending him clattering to the floor. He promptly began to cry and, much to Hermione's frustration, scramble away from the two of them. Hermione shoved Ron as she made her way to Harry, whispering comforting words as she kissed his cheek better. Ron was panting as he looked on in shame. He'd just hit his best friend, and it wasn't his fault he was reciting that one moment where he'd left them. Ron put his hands in the air and began to back away. 'Hermione, I'm so sor-'
'It's not me you need to apologise to.' she spat, taking Harry's arm and leading him to bed. As she tucked him in, fully clothed, he whimpered 'Well, s-sorry to l-let you down,' as more tears escaped for her to wipe away, 'I've been straight with you from the start, I told you everything Dumbledore...'
'Shhh Harry. I know.' Hermione whispered, kissing his forehead and switching the light off with a flick of her wand.
When she returned, Ron was crestfallen. 'He didn't have to say all of those-'
'He can't control it you prat!' Hermione yelled, only then remembering to bring her voice down. 'Don't you have any self-control? You hit him.' she said disbelievingly. 'He's mentally unwell, and you can't get over a spat that happened years ago-'
'Hermione,' Ron had said forcefully, grabbing her arm to get her attention, 'so why don't you get him help? St Mungo's, or Madam Pomfrey... anything could help.'
Hermione pulled her hand out of his grip. 'I did, but they said nothing was wrong. PTSD, the healers said.' There was a moment of sheer quiet, before Hermione fumed 'You shouldn't have lost your temper, Ron. You punched his face, and he doesn't understand why! This has got to be the last time you make him cry or I swear to god I'll-'
'Oh shut it, 'Mione. He's not right, but I know you want to be married to him, having sex and-' Hermione slapped him and glared at his form, the air around them quickly heating from the boiling of her blood. 'Don't you dare, Ronald Weasley!'
'Hermione, how can you-'
'You're still arguing? Get lost, Ron.' she ordered, her wand pointing threateningly at him. Since then, Ron hadn't been back. She had reluctantly sent many an owl, telling him that Harry was always asking for him, but there was never a reply - 'He's most likely still guilty, as he should be,' Hermione thought, finishing up with Harry's hair and carefully massaging his wet shoulders. 'No one hurts my Harry, ever.'
Hermione flicked through the post, throwing the bills and adverts over her shoulder. Behind her, Harry began to chuckle. 'What?' Hermione asked, smirking, as she played confused.
'Haven't seen so many envelopes since I was invited to Hogwarts.' he said. Hermione turned and gave him a smile, patiently waiting for him to tell that story for the umpteenth time. He didn't; holding his spoon awkwardly in a fist Harry continued to stir more sugar into his cereal. 'Isn't that enough, sweetheart?' cajoled Hermione.
Harry, as if suddenly woken up, said 'What? Oh-' he looked down at his cereal, which was just sugar and cornflakes, without milk. 'I've never really had sugar in my cereal before.' he joked, and the two shared a look and erupted into laughter. It was good, Hermione thought, that he could be humorous at times. It reminded her that Harry - her Harry - was still in there. The laughter began to die down, when Harry suddenly began weeping. Hermione was instantly by his side, asking 'What's wrong?'
'I w-wasted your sugar.' he said fearfully, expecting a beating.
'Our sugar,' Hermione corrected, smiling as Harry looked at her in confusion. 'And it's not wasted, look.' She said, taking her wand and summoning the excess of grainy sweetness out of the bowl. Harry could've done that himself just as easily, if he could will himself to. Harry smiled, and kissed Hermione's cheek sweetly, hugging her awkwardly. 'Thank you, 'Mione.' he said, blushing, before actually pouring milk into his bowl.
'Welcome...' Hermione trailed off quietly, feelings he ambivalence of being both secure and discontent. She loved how sweet and innocent Harry was, and how he could brighten her day. But his mind was so... 'Shattered.' Hermione's thoughts concluded. Without his sense, and emotions, and feelings, this person was just a shell of the person she loved. But she stuck by him for that very reason. Hermione dismissed her hesitance with a sigh, and went back to the post. She took a while to take in the thick envelope of parchment that she had stopped on. It was held closed with a wax insignia of four animals - a lion, a snake, and badger and a raven. Hogwarts was calling her home. She knew that Headmistress McGonagall wanted her to return (either to study or to teach), but she had never considered it before. Not when Harry was so... she shook her head, as if to physically dispel negative thoughts from her mind, and sat across the table from Harry as he ate breakfast. Leaning in, she said 'Harry, how's about today we go to Hogwarts. Would you like that?'
Harry was clearly hesitant. 'Hogwarts? I'm not sure...'
Hermione pouted playfully, saying 'Not even for me...?'
Harry smiled instantly. 'Ok. Anything for you, 'Mione.' he said in a daze, looking at her with endearment. She uttered 'Thank you Harry.' before patting his shoulder and moving to tune the radio. Harry loved listening to Potterwatch, which continued to air after the war. When she asked him why, Harry had replied 'I dunno. It makes me feel better, I guess.' Hermione was sure this was a part of the real Harry trying to communicate, so she always made sure to put it on in the mornings. 'Is Ron coming with us? I hope he is.' Harry asked from the table, childishly hoping she would magic Ron from thin air. He hadn't been round, and Harry clearly missed him. Sadly, Hermione answered 'I don't think so Harry. Maybe next time.'
Harry nodded, and asked innocently 'Are we going to stay there? I hope they have nice beds.'
Hermione was brought out of her sudden melancholy, chuckling. 'I hope so to.'
Travelling for the first time in months, Harry gripped Hermione's hand tightly. She have his a comforting squeeze to give him confidence, and talked to him, asking questions, to keep his attention away from the looks being given by passers-by. She heard little snippets of whispers: 'Is that...?', 'No way, he's way to skinny, looks like he's been petrified...' and 'Shall I ask 'em?' were thrown about by the crowd. Harry stepped closer to Hermione and shrank towards her. 'Everyone's looking at me funny, 'Mione.'
'Ignore it, Harry, it's fine.' said Hermione curtly, trying to make her way through Diagon Alley - more specifically to Flourish and Blots, where she was told she could floo to Hogsmeade. Suddenly, Harry jerked her, pointing 'Hey, that's Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour! He used to give me free sundaes when I was doing my History of Magic homework. I wonder where he is?' Hermione didn't have the heart nor the time to tell him that Mr Fortescue had been carried off by Death Eaters, so instead promised to buy him some ice cream on the way back. Doubly excited, Harry ambled besides Hermione, who strode to the bookshop. Harry became silent as they entered, squeezing Hermione's hand as he became more uncomfortable. 'Breathe, Harry. You're going to see a lot of 'new' places today.' she said, and was satisfied by the long drawing of breath besides her. She used her own key to get through to the fireplace; the bookshop was fairly empty, and Hermione could easily make her way to the back room where she once worked as a clerk. She stepped into the fireplace, followed gingerly by Harry. Grasping his arm for extra support, she said clearly 'Headmistress McGonagall's office!' and threw her floo powder down.
They landed in a heap on a fine tartan rug by the fire, into a well-kept circular office. Harry looked around in awe, memories of his Transfiguration professor's old office surfacing. 'Hermione, are we-'
'Yes, Harry. We're back.' announced Hermione proudly. This was the place where it had all began, and where it had finished. 'Not for Harry, though.' thought Hermione bitterly. Speaking out, Hermione called 'Professor? Harry and I are here-' In a flash of light, the new headmistress stood in front of them. 'Ah, Miss Granger. And Mr Potter! I'm so sorry I couldn't receive you, but I was caught up with Professor Slughorn, again.'
Hermione assured 'It's not a problem. I got your letter in the post, could we discuss it now...?'
Professor McGonagall was eying Harry, who was curiously looking closely at everything in the office. 'Is he...?'
'Oh, Harry'll be fine. Harry, sweetheart?' Hermione called from the fireplace.
'Yes?'
'There are some colourful sweeties on the desk, why don't you find me a nice one?'
'Ok 'Mione.' said Harry, moving back into their eyesight and sitting quietly in a chair. The two women stood a way behind him, one more worried than the other. 'Miss Granger, what has happened to Mr Potter?'
'I'm not quite sure. He's been like this for a year. Sometimes he's joking, playful, himself, and then he suddenly switches into this abused, sad, tortured-'
'I'm so sorry. Is there anything that can be done?' she asked grimly.
'I think so. But I'm too scared to try. He's so fragile, and I feel like I might break him. More.'
'Is this a self-induced issue?' Professor McGonagall asked, her voice thick with concern.
'His mind is... plagued with all of these thought of death, and blame. He-he's got it in his head that it's his entire fault that people died because of him. And he thinks he's worthless.' Hermione noticed a tear had fallen down her cheek as she watched Harry earnestly searching through the bowl of sweets on their teacher's desk. 'Worthless?' said McGonagall in disbelief.
'Did you know Harry was abused before he came to Hogwarts. His bedroom for eleven years was a small tight cupboard under the stairs. They fed him a day's worth of food over a month and hit him. Living like he knows nothing is his coping mechanism.' informed Hermione, a darker matter-of-fact tone to her words. McGonagall sighed. 'How he managed to stay sane for so long, we'll never know.' With that, the two took seats at the desk, and humoured Harry by accepting the treats he's given them. They discussed schooling, and agreed that they would take residence in the staff accommodation. Hermione planned to get Ron to shift her things to Hogwarts - 'His way of apologising.' she told herself out loud as she and Harry walked to the great hall for lunch.
'What?' asked Harry in regards to her meaningless words, being the normal Harry at that moment.
'Never mind. Hungry?' Offered Hermione, as Harry nodded and smiled sadly. He took out a sweet from his pocket and gave it to Hermione, saying 'I owe you a lot, 'Mione. Sorry for being such a bur-' Hermione kissed his lips, stopping his words in their track. Separating slowly, she whispered 'I don't want to here that kind of talk, ok Harry?' He nodded. She wanted to kiss him again, but held back. At the moment, he was too fragile to hold a romantic relationship and she was his carer - kissing was just positive reinforcement. As they walked, their hands slipped effortlessly into each other's and Harry's arm became wrapped around her shoulder. They soon approached the large wooden doors of the great hall and they stood outside, letting the cool air envelop them. 'Shall we?' chimed Hermione.
'Ladies first.' said Harry, waving his arm and motioning her forwards. They entered the great hall and stood astounded at the sight. When empty, the room had an actual ceiling. 'Wow...' breathed Harry as he held tighter onto Hermione. Suddenly, he froze beside her. 'Harry?' inquired Hermione, only to realise what he'd spotted. A flash of red and orange was heading towards them. 'Harry! 'Mione! I haven't seen you in so long.' Suddenly, Hermione found herself wrapped tightly by Ginny Weasley. 'Ginny!' greeted Hermione, flustered. She hadn't expected anyone to actually be at Hogwarts. She felt as uncomfortable in her head as Harry did in that space. As Ginny was about to hug him, reaching out to embrace a long-distanced brother-
'No! I can't!' Harry yelled, his voice higher than usual, before he bolted out of the great hall. 'Harry, wait!' shouted Ginny, but he was already gone. Hermione frowned, and then smiled sadly at her friend. Quickly, she said 'I'll speak to you later, common room. Got to catch him quick before he panics.' She sprinted after him, and searched the castle for him. Walking around the corridors as the afternoon went on was peaceful, and she guaranteed to herself that Harry would've calmed down by now. She asked the room of requirement for 'a place to feel safe' (as she had taught Harry to always look for), she tickled the pear by the kitchens for information and, more for personal satisfaction, and she visited the library. Huffing, she sat down at her favourite desk by the restricted section before having a thought of realisation. 'The Marauders' Map!' she squealed in her mind, pulling out her beaded bag. Harry begged her to keep it when she originally planned to throw it away, but she fell for those pleading eyes in a heartbeat. She fished for the map for a while before she pulled out the rough fold of parchment, muttering 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good.' Spreading the map fully on the table before her, Hermione used her wand to track the few names moving around the map; Hagrid was with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses and Slughorn was in the headmistress's office – though curiously McGonagall was not. She was in the great hall, with Professors Vector and Trelawney. 'That cow,' muttered Hermione under her breath, remembering the absolute rubbish the Divination professor used to 'teach' them. As that trail of thought ended, she finally spotted Harry – he was by the lake. 'Of course,' Hermione thought as she rolled her eyes at herself, 'he always went there to think.' She hurriedly folded the map back up, and shoved it into her little beaded bag before running to the lake.
Hermione sighed in relief as she turned around the corner, her eyes trained on the contrite silhouette. He stood by the edge of the shadow of the large oak tree, which flourished by the lake. While the setting was calm and serene, the boy who inhabited it was evidently not. He was aggressively throwing stones into the lake, creating large splashes and disturbing the stillness of the water. Hermione edged forward cautiously, unable to read her friend from so far away. 'Harry?' she called, making her presence known as she walked forwards. 'Do you want to talk?' she asked gently, stopping a distance away from him - he may act childish, but he was still stronger than her. He turned around in surprise, dropped the rock in his hand to the pebbly ground and stormed back to the tree, before slumping down the trunk and curling his knees to his chest. Hermione knew he was crying, but didn't want to aggravate him further. 'Harry, do you want me to stay?' she asked, knowing that he would say –
'Please, 'Mione.' he answered, sniffing through his tears. She hurried to his side, wrapping her arms around his form and resting her head on his as he wept. 'I'm so sorry,' he cried, sobbing as Hermione shushed him. 'I can't st-stop, I k-killed Fred-'
'No!' Hermione yelled, causing Harry to shrink. 'No, ' she repeated more quietly, cupping his face in her hands gently and facing him to her, 'it wasn't your fault. You've got to believe me, Harry. It was not,'; she kissed his left cheek, continuing 'your…', and then planted another on his right before looking at his face passionately. '…fault' she finished, staring into his emerald eyes. They sat there for a while before Harry became slack besides her. Reclined against the bark, they sat in the shade and watched the sun set over the horizon. The sky transformed from a dull shade of light blue to splashes of orange and red on the canvas of the universe. 'Hermione,' Harry said weakly.
'Yes, sweetheart?' Hermione asked distantly, her mind focused on the hands that were wrapped around her waist. 'I, I l-love you.' He declared, his head resting on her shoulder. She craned her neck and kissed his temple, replying 'I love you too, Harry.'
'…and Ron hasn't been back since, Ginny.' Finished Hermione, who sat on one end of the couch in the Gryffindor common room. Harry, who had fallen asleep in the glow of the fire, lay on the warm couch with his head resting on Hermione's lap – she would occasionally stroke his hair from his face, and he would answer with a content sigh. Ginny exclaimed 'That git!'
'Yeah,' Hermione agreed, though her heart wasn't in it much anymore. Ron helped Harry most of the time, who'd already forgot that Ron had hit him. As he stirred in his sleep, Hermione studied his face – he was smiling, probably dreaming of a better time. 'So is he completely…?' Ginny asked carefully, not risking saying the wrong thing. 'No, not really. He just needs to accept everything. He won't forgive himself.'
'If he came to the Burrow, maybe, or-'
'No!' Hermione cut off, then she smiled apologetically. 'Did you see how he reacted just by seeing you? He'll crumble if he sees all of you at once.'
'Yeah, you're right.'
'Just to warn you,' Hermione said prudently, 'he will probably be very scared to see you tomorrow. Took months for him to enjoy Ron's company again.'
'So he sort of, reverts, back every day?' asked Ginny, as if she hadn't quite understood her. 'Yes,' Hermione said, a tint of tiredness in her voice.
'So, you've been opening him up every day for the past year? Why didn't you tell anyone?'
'Ginny!' Hermione said insistently, 'No one cared about Harry after the war. I'm sorry,' she added when she saw Ginny's argumentative face, 'but everyone was so occupied with their own lives. I know its not anyone's fault.'
'Are you're parents-'
'Still in Australia, yes.' Hermione told her, running her finger across Harry's cheek. 'I should have done more, 'Mione. I am so, so sorry.' Ginny apologised mournfully, with the realisation that Hermione had basically sacrificed her whole life to care for Harry. Hermione laughed sadly. 'Y'know, that's all he ever tells me. 'I'm so sorry 'Mione, I killed them' he says to me.'
Harry shifted in his sleep, making himself more comfortable as his head lay on Hermione's thigh. She shook him gently, and he purred. 'I don't want to…' he whined, yawning as Ginny giggled from her seat on the floor. 'But Harry, don't you want to sleep in a proper bed tonight? With me?' Hermione questioned playfully. Tiredly, Harry pointed out 'You're here right now, aren't you?'
'Maybe she'd better go then.' Ginny suggested, getting up herself as if to make a point. Ginny noticed how happy Hermione would get when Harry acted so adorably. Harry immediately sat up, and declared 'Ok, I'm ready.'
The two girls laughed, and Harry smiled. 'Say goodnight to Ginny, Harry.' Said Hermione. 'G'night Ginny.' sung Harry, walking past Hermione to the door.
'Bye 'Mione. Bye Harry!' Ginny called, before going to the Head Girl's dormitory, where she had been sleeping for the majority of her visit. Hermione was informed that Ginny was taking up the post of Flying Instructor for the first years, after Madam Hooch had decided she'd had enough for one lifetime. The walk to the staff accommodations was a long one; having never been there themselves, it took Harry and Hermione ages to actually find the portrait that hid the rooms. Behind said portrait (who was very unhappy with their late arrival and almost made Harry cry in apology), there was a long corridor of suites. Hermione went to the very end of the hall, where her own room had been established – the door was even labelled 'Ms Granger'. They stepped inside, and Hermione was surprised to find the room as homely as the common room was – a fire was burning, and on the kitchen table lay a warm meal, which Hermione insisted Harry eat first, before exploring the rest of the place. As they ate their dinner, Hermione wondered out loud 'Did Harry enjoy his day?'
'Very much thank you.' Came his muffled response, his mouth full of bread.
'Good.' Hermione said quietly, taking a napkin to wipe a bit of sauce off of Harry's mouth. After dinner, their dishes disappeared and Hermione let Harry drag her along to inspect each individual room. 'That bathtub could fit both of us, 'Mione.' Harry exclaimed in wonder as they exited the bathroom. 'Maybe we should try it?' Hermione said, though Harry obliviously ignored her. They finally arrived at the bedroom, where Pat – Hermione's speckled brown owl – sat perched by the window. Hermione, in her own strange way, found it humorous to name her post-owl Pat, and Harry had laughed to despite telling her the Dursleys had never let him watch TV. She scribbled a quick note to Ron while Harry collapsed onto the bed, laughing as he sunk into the covers. After asking him to get their stuff and bring it to Hogwarts, Hermione frowned, and then asked loudly, 'Is there anything you want to say to Ron, Harry?'
There was a pause as Harry thought of what to say. 'Could you tell him I miss him and… and that we love him?'
Harry's use of the word 'love' instantly struck a chord. He was so touching, so caring; it never ceased to amaze her. 'Of course I will, Harry.' Hermione said, adding his message to the bottom of the page and telling Ron that Harry really meant it. Harry quickly got undressed and clambered into the bed, yawning contently as Hermione joined him. He cuddled her, and then reclined, his head momentarily vanishing amongst the fluffy, fresh pillows. He had stopped flinching when she touched his bare skin, his trust for his long-term companion allowing for her to cuddle him till he fell asleep – and long after. Hermione rested her head over his heart and finally let her muscles relax. They had survived yet another day.
