Sehnsucht
"Put those boys in the cellar!" Bellatrix snapped. "I'd like to have a conversation with this one – girl to girl!"
Harry fell hard onto the mildewed stone. He looked through the iron bars and up to the entrance, the dim light completely extinguished by Peter Pettigrew's slamming of the basement door. Ron's urgent whispers were coming from somewhere in the darkness. "What are we gonna do? We can't leave Hermione alone with her!"
Some footsteps. Luna's soft voice. "Ron?... Harry?"
Harry was somehow in the basement and watching from above at the same time.
Then the screams.
Hermione.
Harry awoke with a start. Hermione's screaming still echoed in his ears. He could feel a hand stroking his arm. He turned to see Ginny' watchful eyes trained on his. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, rubbing his eyes and looking away from her. Ginny simply took his hand in hers and rested her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and started to breathe deeply, rhythmically. She waited until the pace of Harry's breaths matched her own.
"Tea?" she whispered.
Harry nodded.
In one graceful movement, Ginny was off the bed and walking toward the door. Harry could already hear clinking in the kitchen downstairs, Ginny's enchantments ever-prepared. This was why Harry knew she would make a good mother.
He reached for his glasses on the nightstand.
Harry opened the door to watch James asleep in his crib. He folded his arms and leaned in the doorway. He wondered how many sleepless nights James Potter Sr. had, how many times visits to baby Harry somehow both calmed and intensified his fears.
Ginny padded back up the stairs, mug in hand. She stopped at the top of the bannister, watching him for a moment.
"Here."
Harry turned back to Ginny, who met him in the doorway. She handed him the mug, and he pulled her to his side. They looked back at James sleeping soundly.
"We'll sleep in this morning," Ginny replied, "and we'll spend a lazy Saturday with James. How does that sound?"
"Perfect," Harry whispered, kissing the top of Ginny's head.
"Don't forget that we have that dinner with Ron and Hermione tonight too," Ginny said.
Harry took a sip of tea. "Perfect."
Hermione and Ron stood at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione could feel her heart pounding everywhere in her body – her chest, her stomach, even her fingers. She looked at Ron, who took a quick breath before trying one last time.
Ron made a horrible, strangled hissing noise. Hermione jumped as the door's mechanisms all clicked into place to reveal the Chamber. Ron smiled victoriously at Hermione. "Harry talks in his sleep. Have you noticed?"
Hermione furrowed her brow. "No, of course not."
It was all happening. She felt the smooth surface of the basilisk fang in her hands. She felt the air against her arm as she forced it back and into the Hufflepuff Cup. She felt Ron's lips on hers. She felt terror – not from the impending doom befalling her as she and Ron made a break for the door, but of not seeing Harry alive once more.
She tried to maintain her grip, but her fingers were only clawing at air. Pieces of ceramic were littered on the floor. It was her mother's favorite plate, the one with a beautiful jade pattern spiraling out from the center. "Drat," Hermione muttered to herself.
Before she could reach for her wand, the plate was already mending itself. It landed gently on the center of the dining room table. Hermione walked over to the table and ran her hand over the plate.
"Are you alright?" Ron asked, still holding his wand up.
Hermione stared at the plate. "Just tired, I guess."
Ron sighed. "Did I wake you again? I thought the anti-snoring charm had been working."
"It is. I think it's just work that's tiring me out." Hermione waved her wand, and breakfast leapt from the pots and pans and onto the serving platters. Ron joined Hermione at the table and spooned some scrambled eggs onto his plate.
"I don't think that's what it is," Ron replied solemnly.
Hermione's eyes darted at Ron, then back to the table. "What do you mean?"
"I think you're nervous about tonight," Ron said simply. He looked up at Hermione. He knew how difficult the past couple of years had been for her – the battle, finishing up at Hogwarts, starting work at the Ministry. She seemed lost in the whirlwind. He wanted so badly for her to find what she was looking for, and for him to be it.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Well." Her eyes fell to her plate. She took a piece of toast and started spreading some marmalade on it.
"You don't have to be," Ron offered. "Ginny and Harry will be here."
Hermione looked back at Ron.
Ron smiled. "And I will be here, too." Hermione just smiled.
Hermione had been cooking all day. Her joints actually ached. She didn't once remember her joints aching when she was running around London with Harry and Ron. When was she a person whose joints ached?
She placed the silver serving dish in the center of the table, but it just didn't seem right. She replaced it with the jade plate. She ran her hand around the spiral pattern and felt the thinnest crack in the center. A detail only her mother would notice.
The doorbell rang. She gulped and tore her apron off, walking down the hall toward the front room. She caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. She walked back, fixed her hair, and tried a smile. When had she gotten older? There were lines and wrinkles now, mapping the different places she had been. There was even a scar from the battle, just by her lip. She had changed so much. Would that matter?
Ron opened the door just as Hermione was joining him in the front room. Ginny smiled and hugged her brother. Harry laughed, pushing James's pram in through the door. Hermione cooed at baby James and gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek. "He's perfect," Hermione sighed. Ginny beamed with pride.
Hermione looked at Harry.
"Hello, stranger," he said.
His eyes looked as they did that fateful day.
Hermione was back there, in the Great Hall, staring at Harry. The resolve in his eyes made him look… older… changed, somehow. Tears poured from her eyes.
"I'll go with you!" she sobbed.
Hermione blinked.
"Harry," she said, softly.
He smiled.
The four of them made their way through the front room to the kitchen, sitting at the table made for six. Hermione served some tea, looking uneasy despite Ron's best attempts to comfort her. Harry stared at the floor. Ginny filled the room with an hour's worth of details about how fast James was growing, as James laughed to himself in the pram.
Suddenly, a clock rang in the hall. Hermione leapt to her feet.
Ron checked his watch. "It's only five 'til," he said, confused.
"I set it early," she explained, rushing to the front room.
Ron, Harry, and Ginny followed. "It's going to be great!" Ginny said happily.
"Yeah!" Ron echoed, "It'll be a shock at first, but I think it will be really lovely!"
Hermione started pacing, adjusting throw pillows and clearing nearly invisible specks of dust. "I don't know why I waited so long… I just wanted to make sure things were safe, and each time I was close to it, they seemed so happy, and I…"
As Hermione listed reason after reason, Ron met Harry's gaze. Ron nodded in Hermione's direction, his eyes pleading for Harry's help.
"Hermione?" he asked. Hermione stopped in her tracks.
"Well…" he said, exchanging glances with Ginny and Ron. He looked at Hermione. "I think they're just going to be so happy to see you," he said simply.
Hermione finally genuinely smiled.
Harry smiled back.
The clock chimed six.
Suddenly, Mr. and Mrs. Granger appeared, both holding an old stuffed animal of Hermione's. They gasped and looked up at Hermione, who raised her wand and started to cry. A warm light filled the room, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger's faces twisted into all kinds of emotions. Finally, Mrs. Granger started crying and fell to her knees. Mr. Granger knelt alongside his wife, holding her to him and looking up at their daughter. He weakly reached out to her, so overcome with emotion that he could barely get her name out. Hermione joined them, hugging them tightly, all three of them crying and laughing at the same time.
The six of them sat at the table, toasting the Grangers while Mr. and Mrs. Granger regaled them with their adventures in Australia. Harry and Ginny introduced the Grangers to baby James before Harry went upstairs to put him to bed. While Harry was putting James down, Hermione began to serve dinner, and Ginny shared stories from her time with the Holyhead Harpies, stories she told so vividly that it was almost like they were there. Mr. Granger congratulated her on her career, as well as her particular way with words. "You could be a sports writer," he mentioned, and Ginny smiled so keenly she felt as if her cheeks might burst.
As dinner went on, they talked mostly about the battle. Ron talked about how it felt when the horcruxes twisted his insides, driving him mad with jealousy and doubt. Ginny spoke of the bleak days at Hogwarts, wondering day in and day out if her family was alive. With each story, Mrs. Granger clung onto her daughter harder and harder. Hermione told them about Bellatrix Lestrage, and how Hermione just wanted to leave it all behind at the Forest of Dean. Harry had largely been distant and silent, but when Hermione said this, he looked up from the table. Everyone was looking at him.
"It was so cruel," Mrs. Granger said to Harry, before turning to everyone else, her eyes brimming with tears. "What they did. What they took from you."
Harry nodded. "But look at what we got in return," he said, looking around the table at his dear friends.
Mr. Granger raised his wine glass, and everyone followed suit. "We can't express how grateful we are to you all for taking care of our Hermione," Mr. Granger said.
"Well, sir, I wouldn't be alive without her," Harry replied, turning from the Grangers to Hermione.
Hermione smiled softly.
"In fact, none of us would be," Ginny echoed.
"And I never want to be," Ron replied. "Alive without her, that is."
"What?" Hermione asked.
Ron stood suddenly, bumping the table with his knee. Ginny's eyes widened, and she looked at Harry with a big smile.
Ron awkwardly fell to one knee.
Ginny squealed.
Harry felt his stomach fall again.
Ron took a deep breath. "Hermione, I love you. And now that your parents are safely with us again, I want to commit myself and my life to you, forever."
After some fiddling with his jacket pocket, he presented to her a small ring box with a beautiful sapphire ring.
Hermione covered her mouth in surprise. "Oh, Ron!"
"A sapphire?" Mr. Granger whispered.
"Her birthstone, sweetheart," Mrs. Granger sighed.
Ron brushed some strands of hair from Hermione's face. "What do you say?"
"Yes, Ron. Yes," Hermione said softly, reaching for him and kissing him sweetly. Ron gleefully placed the ring on Hermione's finger, and everyone cheered.
Soon, dinner wound down. The Potters were saying their goodbyes, and the Grangers were getting ready to spend the night before leaving for home in the morning. As Hermione kissed her parents goodnight, Mrs. Granger turned to her daughter and smiled.
Hermione's heart was so full that all she could muster was a weak, "I love you."
"I love you, too," Mrs. Granger whispered. "Are you happy, dear?"
"Of course," Hermione laughed, looking at her ring. She looked over at Ron shaking Mr. Granger's hand with Harry happily looking on.
Mrs. Granger pulled her in for another hug.
Hermione chuckled. "That's, what, fourteen hugs now, Mum?" She hugged her mother back, and her eyes settled across the room on Harry for a moment. Harry turned to her and gave her a quick wink and a smile.
"I'm just so happy to see you," Mrs. Granger whispered, hugging her tightly.
Hermione suddenly felt like she had the wind knocked out of her.
Ron was snoring loudly. Hermione watched him, his eyelashes fluttering slightly in his sleep. For a second, Ron stopped breathing, but then coughed and turned over. Hermione stifled her laughter. As she watched him sleeping, she wondered what it was like to be able to sleep so soundly, to have a night's worth of peace instead of hours of despair. She found herself reaching for the time turner around her neck, but then she remembered she had locked it away in her study. She couldn't remember how many times she had used it since the day they freed Sirius, but she could remember bits and pieces of each trip.
The first was her seventh year, when she missed Harry and Ron so much that she spent an entire Alchemy class in Harry's office. She and Harry would sit on the floor and pretend like they were in the Gryffindor common room. Sometimes, they'd talk. Other times, he'd do paperwork, and she'd read. She visited him so often that Harry had even secretly noted a standing weekly appointment in his agenda, which made Hermione laugh.
There was the time she stole a moment before James's birth, just to give Harry a quick, much-needed pep talk that would help him stay conscious in the delivery room the second time around.
More recently, there were the quiet times just before dawn, when they'd meet at The Seven Swans to work through the nightmares.
Hermione closed her eyes and thought of the last visit they had.
Harry was still in his Auror's robes. Hermione had fallen asleep with her apron on. The two were under the Invisibility Cloak, huddled behind The Seven Swans, sharing a stolen butterbeer.
"He didn't say so outright, but Ron was obviously disappointed in the mince pies I tried today," Hermione said, dusting some flour from her sleeves. "Sometimes I wish Molly weren't such a great cook."
"Are you joking? All those care packages she sent us? If Mrs. Weasley weren't such a great cook, I wouldn't have had a decent meal from June to September for six years," Harry laughed, taking a swig of butterbeer. He handed the glass to Hermione and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
Hermione smiled at him. "Do you ever dream of them?"
Harry's smile faded a bit. "The Dursleys?"
Hermione nodded while taking a sip, then passing the glass back to Harry.
"Well… sometimes. I have a dream where Uncle Vernon grows fangs and claws and tries to scratch my eyes out in my sleep. I've had that one since I was little, though."
Hermione frowned at Harry. "You never told me that."
Harry looked at her. "It's OK, Hermione," he said, taking a drink.
"It's not OK. I never knew that. I'm so sorry, Harry."
"Why?"
Hermione rose to her feet. "Well, it's just… sad! I hate to imagine you as a young boy, dreaming about such things…"
She folded her arms. Harry simply tugged at Hermione's pant leg and offered the glass to her.
Hermione sat back down and took the glass.
"I think there are other things to be sorry about, Hermione." Harry scratched his forehead, where his fading scar was. Hermione looked at it. It was wearing with time. Like other things.
Hermione didn't know how Harry could do it – how he could have such perspective in the face of such tragedy, and how he could always find the right thing to say.
"Your turn, then."
Hermione furrowed her brow, and Harry laughed. "Your turn," he repeated. "You tell me one that I don't know."
Hermione looked out at the fenced, grassy field, mere feet from where she and Harry had first paid their respects to Harry's parents all those years ago.
"Well… OK. I have one."
"Let's hear it, then. C'mon."
"Well, I'm walking through a large crowd… and I see my parents… and they don't remember me. And, suddenly, I'm an old lady, and I'm dying. And they still don't remember me. I try to call out to them, but of course, I use the wrong names. And I die. And they never remember me."
She buried her face in her lap, trying to cry as quietly as she could.
Harry held her in his arms, stroked her hair, and whispered, "I'm so sorry", over and over again. After a while, Hermione's breaths became less shallow and more measured. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, and they sat there silently for a bit. Then, Harry lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.
"What are you thinking?" Hermione whispered.
"I'm thinking… it's time to bring them home," he said, simply.
They sat there, holding each other, and staring into each other's eyes for a long, long while.
Hermione knew they said that the last time would truly be the last time, but she couldn't resist.
She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Ron. She padded across the hall into her study, past her sleeping parents, and retrieved the time turner. Then, she crouched in a dark corner in the hallway and clasped the time turner in her hands. She started to cry, but then she took a deep breath and turned it over twice. She watched as night turned back to day, and she felt her breath catch in her chest as she heard Harry humming to James in her and Ron's room.
She entered the room and looked over at James in his pram, fast asleep.
"He seems ready for bed," she said to Harry.
Harry looked at her sternly, taking note of her pajamas. "So do you."
She closed the door behind her and just looked at him. He closed James' pram so as not to wake him. Hermione crossed the room. Harry softened, and they embraced warmly. When Harry moved to pull away, Hermione held on tighter.
Harry felt his stomach fall. "He's going to ask tonight, isn't he?" he asked.
Hermione pulled away but kept her arms around his neck. Harry ran his hand down Hermione's left arm and took her hand in his. He raised her left hand to look at the ring. "Hmm," he said, "Ron's got good taste."
"You mean you've got good taste," she countered.
Harry shrugged.
Hermione sighed and pulled away. She sat cross-legged on the floor and leaned against the bed, staring straight ahead at the wall. Harry joined her, stretching his legs out in front of him.
"Just like the Gryffindoor common room," Harry joked softly.
Hermione smiled. She turned to Harry. "Do you remember the last night? At The Seven Swans?"
Harry grew very serious.
"I just want you to know that night meant so much to me," Hermione replied.
"Me too," Harry said, and Hermione knew he meant it.
Hermione felt herself blinking back tears again. She looked at the wall. "I'm going to miss you," she whispered.
Harry managed a grin. "I'm going to be so happy for you," he replied.
Hermione let the tears fall. She couldn't fight it anymore. She kissed him deeply, with every inch of her heart. Harry kissed back, his hands running through her hair, almost as if searching for something. Between kisses, Hermione gasped for air, little sobs escaping before they reconnected. Harry whispered that everything was going to be alright, kissing her cheeks, her neck, her hands, just grazing her sapphire ring with his lip.
After a short while, they stood.
Holding hands, they walked to the door. Harry kissed her one last time, softly. Then, they stepped into the hallway. Hermione sadly watched as Harry went back downstairs to rejoin the group for dinner. Hermione crouched in the dark corner of the hallway, took a deep breath, and turned the time turner forward.
Hermione and Mrs. Granger were making breakfast. As Mrs. Granger fried the bacon, Hermione waved her wand, and four mugs of tea sailed from the kitchen countertop. Three landed on the table, and the other slid into Ron's outstretched hand. His fingers curled around the handle, and he brought the mug to his lips for a sip as he read the paper. Hermione smiled as she heard Ron's grateful sigh.
"Sweetie," Mrs. Granger said, "I thought I heard something last night. It sounded like…" She turned to her daughter. "Is everything OK?"
Hermione just smiled at her. "Probably just a bad dream."
She turned back to see Ron and Mr. Granger talking about something in the newspaper.
"Well, dear. I just want you to remember. Life's just like this plate."
Hermione turned back to her mother. She was placing strips of bacon onto the jade plate.
Mrs. Granger smiled. "Things can be fixed, but you have to know when they're broken."
Hermione managed a sad smile.
She looked down at her sapphire ring.