A/N: Hey everybody, jandl here! I just want to think all my faithful reviewers and beg you to continue to read. This is my last songfic for a while and I was going to put it off till later, but I finally got the time to write it this winter break. I've spent most of these last two weeks tweaking it and making it work so I hope you like it. I'm sorry I haven't been working on my regular fics, but this break has been busy and apart from writing this, I haven't had much time. Well, here it is, I hope you like it!
Unglued
Restless and alone
A weary soul has traveled home.
What am I to do,
In a world without you?
A 21-year-old Harry Potter stepped into his penthouse flat in London, which he shared with Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. Well, he and Hermione used to share the place with Ron, but recently he'd become quite popular as the keeper for the Chudley Cannons, putting them back on a winning streak, and had since moved out so he could be closer to his team.
The place was completely silent as Harry laid his jacket on the coat rack and placed his key on the top frame of the door.
"Hermione, I'm home!" he yelled. When there was no answer, he felt assured that she wasn't home.
He walked into the living room and lit the fire, for the days were getting chilly. He then grabbed a chair, and sat down wearily in front of the fire.
He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He took one hand and moved it into his pocket, and withdrew a bottle. He took two tablets from the almost empty bottle and popped them into his mouth, swallowing them dry. He didn't want Hermione to know, but he was slowly becoming addicted to them. He had started to take them after he had defeated Voldemort in his seventh year. The battle had gone fine, but ever since Voldemort had entered the afterlife, Harry had been suffering from migraines every day. He had started taking two a day right from the start and then he'd escalated to four, then six, then eight, and now he was at twelve. He didn't even wait for the migraines anymore, he just popped them at the first sign of a headache, frustration, or anxiety.
It hadn't been so bad at first, when Ron was still living with them. There had been laughter in the house then; they had been a family. The headaches didn't hurt so bad when there had been someone around to talk to all the time. It had felt like he had been back at Hogwarts. Ron had taken that with him when he had left. Now all that was left was silence.
Hermione was good company, but due to her job at the ministry, she was barely around, and when she was home she was always working or reading. All things considered, he was basically living alone, and he hated it.
I don't want to believe.
I turned around and you're gone.
All the sweet memories--
Of loving you for so long
"Harry, I'm home!" yelled Hermione excitedly from the front hallway.
"In the living room," answered Harry.
Hermione entered the room, facing glowing like the sun.
"Guess what," she said.
"What?" Harry asked, starting to get excited himself.
"I was just asked by Professor McGonagall to take her place as Transfiguration teacher, since she retired at the end of last year; I accepted."
Harry was quiet for a minute as he allowed her announcement to set in. She was leaving him. She was going back to Hogwarts; back home.
He forced a smile onto his face and said in a jubilant voice "Congratulations, Hermione," and gave her a hug.
"You'll have the place all to yourself now," she said, smiling as she pulled away.
"Yeah….great," Harry said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt.
"Now you can be alone with a girlfriend if you want to."
Harry gave a hollow laugh. He hadn't dated anyone since he realized his feelings for Hermione during seventh year. He didn't remember the exact instance that he noticed it. It wasn't as though lightening had struck his head causing him to have an epiphany. It had been small, subtle moments.
He remembered how much he actually enjoyed listening to her quote her textbooks. He loved hearing her laugh. He loved how she was always concerned about him. He loved everything about her. She was everything to him. But he could never tell her. He had discovered a long time ago that happiness was not in his future. He was eternally doomed to pain and misery. He accepted that fact, although he bought it with a great pain.
"How about I make you a celebratory dinner?" he offered.
"Would you? That's so sweet of you, Harry. I'll go write to Ron and tell him the news," she said, beaming with happiness. She kissed him on the cheek and left the room to write her letter.
Harry walked into the kitchen, his hand gently touching the cheek she had just kissed. He walked to the sink and started the water so he could wash the dishes before cooking. As the water filled, he took out two more pills and swallowed them. Glancing at the bottom, he couldn't help but think that there could never be enough pills to numb the pain this time.
And sometimes it's hard
Most times I cry
But God holds this heart of mine
He feels the pain inside
He couldn't believe this day was here already. It was August 25th--the day Hermione was leaving for Hogwarts. She had to be there a week early to prepare for her students. He had spent every possible moment with her, basking in the glow she emitted, and trying to ignore the inescapable pangs of misery that consumed him at the thought of her leaving.
She hugged him one last time before getting on the train. He used those few precious last moments to memorize her--the way her hair smelled of lavender; the way her hair gently caressed her face, how her skin was as soft as silk; the way her laughter filled a room; the way her arms would gently wrap themselves around his neck when she hugged him.
After a few minutes, she pulled back, smiling softly.
"It's hard to believe we're being separated. I can't remember a time when you haven't been there. Now, we're separating. I'll be on my own."
"You'll be great."
"I'll see you soon, Harry."
She kissed him on the cheek, whispered in his ear "Don't forget me," and before he could reply, she was gone. He waved at the train until it was a tiny spec in the distance. When he was convinced she couldn't see him, he allowed a tear to fall. he then swallowed four more pills from a bottle, since he knew two pills would never ease his pain. He looked down at his wand, thinking of his loneliness. He knew what he had to do, but he had a few months of pain left first.
Broken and undone
You were the one we counted on
You taught us how to say "I love you"
And then you showed us how to pray
Hermione sat alone in her office a few months later, grading papers late at night. At least, she was supposed to be grading papers, but her mind was far from the origin and mathematical properties of switching spells. She was thinking of Harry.
He had written every week at first and his letters had been the highlight of her weeks, but then the letters had become fewer and fewer, until they'd stopped completely. She didn't blame him though. She had stopped replying to his letters long before he'd stopped writing them. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to him, it was just she was running out of things to say. She wanted to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him…and how much she….loved him. But, it didn't seem like the kind of thing one would say in a letter. She was waiting until Christmas break to tell him, and break started the next day, so she was trying to work out what she'd say.
She was still thinking, when a snowy white owl dropped a letter in front of her.
"Hello, Hedwig," she said, patting it gently on the head. "You keeping on eye on Harry for me?"
Hedwig hooted in reply and Hermione smiled as she started to read the familiar, untidy scrawl. Her smile soon faded, however, and was replaced by tears.
Dear Hermione,
I am currently standing on the pier at my favorite spot by the River Thames. Have I ever told you about it? The water hits the pier in a steady rhythm and the Sun sets directly over the water, giving the impression that the Sun sinks and rises from the river's depths. It's positively beautiful…almost as beautiful as you.
It's a shame that in a few hours, I will have no memory of this place…or you.
I'm miserable, Hermione. I've reached the end of my rope; my last thread of hope has been cut. It seems my life has become unglued with no hope of resolution.
The last ten years have taken their toll. I completed my purpose at the end of seventh year, and since then, it seems as though there's nothing left for me.
Although I have had good memories these last ten years, (of which you played a large part), it feels to me as though I have an onslaught of bad memories I don't want.
It is because of this that I've decided to put a memory charm on myself, covering the last ten years of my life. Things will be hard for me at first, I know, but I feel that maybe if I have no memory of what it is I have lost, then maybe I can truly live my life.
Don't feel pity for me nor try and stop me, I beg of you. I just wanted you to know why I'm doing what I'm doing.
I also wanted to tell you that I love you with every beat of my heart. Even though I won't remember your name or face, the very essence of you is forever imprinted on my soul. I send this letter with all the infinite love for you that my heart possesses.
Please tell Ron what I have done, and know that I am forever in your debt.
All my love,
Harry
P.S. Don't forget me.
I don't want to believe
I turn around and you're gone
All the sweet memories--
Of loving you for so long
Then, another owl landed on the desk with a letter containing the St. Mungo's seal. She opened it, her hands trembling.
Dear Ms. Granger,
We are writing to you concerning your friend, Mr. H. Potter. There's been an accident. Please come immediately.
Sincerely,
Marla Koffman
Head Nurse, Closed Ward
Without waiting a second, Hermione threw a pinch of floo powder in the fire place, and closed her eyes and the soot swirled around her head.
"Flat 15B, Diagon Alley!" she shouted.
She closed her eyes again and coughed as the soot flew and the fireplaces streamed past.
"Ron!" she called out once everything had stopped spinning. "Ron!"
"What!" came Ron's annoyed voice as he squatted in front of the fireplace. His annoyance faded though when he saw who it was.
"Hi, Hermione. What's up?"
"Harry's in St. Mungo's."
"What? Why?"
"I don't know why! Just come on, would you? I don't have time to dilly-dally."
"I'm kind of busy," Ron answered lamely.
"You're busy! You're best friend is in St. Mungo's and you're 'busy'! Well, I don't care how busy you are, get your arse down there immediately! Harry needs you!"
She withdrew her head from the fire, and apparated to St. Mungo's.
She ran to the closed ward and asked a nurse where she could find Marla Koffman.
"She's over there by the information counter. She's the one with the long, dark hair," she answered, pointing for clarification.
"Thank you. Ms. Koffman!" Hermione called as she walked over to her.
"May I help you?" the lady asked politely.
"I'm Hermione Granger. You sent me a letter saying that Harry had had an accident."
"Oh, yes, of course."
Suddenly, Ron appeared next to Hermione.
"What did I miss?"
"Nothing, Ron."
"Excuse me, Miss. Who is he?"
"I'm Ronald Weasley."
"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything, sir. Your name's not on the emergency forms."
"But Ron is Harry's best--"
"I'm sorry miss, but Ministry guidelines say I can't let--"
"I know the Ministry guidelines and I know Ron's name isn't on the forms; I was there when Harry signed them, but trust me, he deserves to know what's going on."
"Look, I can't just ignore Ministry regulations."
"Yes, you can. In any case, I'm entitled to know what's going on, so you can tell me and if he hears, he hears."
"Very well. Mr. Potter's case is extremely complicated. The memory charm he put on himself was severe. We'd have enough problems stabilizing him as it is, if it weren't for the other factors."
"What other factors?" Hermione inquired.
"Are you aware Mr. Potter was addicted to Ibuprofen?"
"No," said Hermione, dumbfounded.
"We checked his personal belongings and found receipts and empty bottles dating back three years."
"3 years? That's when he graduated from Hogwarts."
"Well, the drugs mixed with the spell and caused complications."
"What sort of complications?"
"It caused a comatose state, of which we were able to revive him…but I am afraid the other complication--paranoia--was incurable."
Hermione took a deep breath.
"Can we see him?"
"You can, but I'm afraid Mr. Weasley doesn't have the clearance."
"What's the room number?"
"It's the room right behind you."
"Thank you."
Shaking slightly, Hermione walked into the room.
Sometimes it's hard
Most times, I cry
But God holds this hearts of mine
He heals the pain I hide
He was muttering insanely to himself, almost incoherently, except for a few words that bore no relevance for her.
She quietly sat down and grabbed his hand, brought it to her lips, and kissed it softly. Surprisingly, he seemed to calm. He looked at her and their eyes locked. As her eyes slowly searched his, she found a flicker of sanity. It wasn't much, but it was there.
"Harry, do you know me?" she asked him. There was no response. "I've known you for ten years. You've always been a model of good character. Why did you do this? Why did you think that this could resolve anything? Why couldn't you just tell me what was bothering you?"
She covered her face, crying in despair.
She felt a hand lift her chin, and she found her self staring in to Harry's emerald green eyes, his sanity restored.
"I didn't want to burden you."
"You could never burden me, Harry."
"I just couldn't see the point of living this life anymore. I'd defeated Voldemort; being an Auror didn't seem as important after that. I had you and Ron; that kept me going for a while. Then Ron left and then you left; there was nothing left for me. You'd all left. What's there left for me to live for?"
She held up their still interlaced fingers.
"There's me. You can live for me. I need you and I love you," she admitted.
"You're just saying that so I don't feel bad."
"No, I really mean it. I've always meant it. I did so many things to try and show you, but you never noticed. I accepted the Transfiguration job because I thought you wanted some time alone. I kissed you on the cheek and you never showed any reaction. You never noticed how much I love you?"
"I've always been somewhat obtuse when it comes to people's emotions. But I notice now, and I thank God I have the memory to see it."
"What happened to you? With the drugs?"
"I started taking them to block my headaches. Remember?" (She nodded). "Then, I started upping my dosages to 18..20 a day. Any sign of weakness in emotion, and I took them. It just never seemed to be enough."
"What is enough?"
"You are."
Slowly and softly, she kissed him for the first time. One of her hands was braced against the bed, the other remained interlaced with his. His other hand was in her hair, gently running its appendages through her lacy curls, pulling her closer.
She gently pulled back for a breath. "That was better then I could ever have dreamed," she said, and leaned in to kiss him again.
She exited the room a few minutes (and kisses) later, to find Ron pacing the hallway.
He immediately rushed to her.
"Is he okay?"
"He's sane again," she said, smiling.
Ron smiled knowingly.
"So you finally admitted it to each other, huh?"
"Admitted what?"
"That you love each other."
"Yeah, we…how did you know?"
"I've know you both for ten years; I notice things. I'm not completely obtuse."
Hermione smiled at the comment.
"Is he going to be okay?"
"What was once unglued has been resolved," Hermione muttered softly.
"Huh?"
"Everything's going to be fine."
And in her heart, Hermione knew she spoke the truth.
And sometimes it's hard…so hard…
And most times I cry
But God knows this heart of mine
He fills the pain…inside.
FINIS
A/N: I'm not going to say anything more here, since it's almost midnight, and I still haven't done my homework. I hope you liked it. Please Review, I would very much appreciate it.
Lots of love
jandl